Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter, Walker of Dreams
Disclaimer: Things begin to move a bit faster in this part. Also, my first attempt at posting my stories confirms that (contrary to anything you may read in this story or any other) Voldemort survived and now lives in Redmond, Washington, wreaking more havoc than ever. As for the dream, well, another random bunny bit me. I should have the place fumigated.
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Friday, March 15th started clear and considerably warmer than normal for the British Isles at the beginning of spring.
Friday started a bit earlier for Angelina Johnson than for others at Hogwarts, as she had set her alarm to awaken her at 4 am. Her dreams that night had been unusually vivid, as they had been since Tuesday, involving Harry, herself, and very few clothes. Since she was graduating in three months, she knew she couldn’t wait any longer to find out if Harry felt the same feelings toward her that she felt for him.
She knew that her best chance was to come to practice looking her best, and thanked the gods that the weather was going to cooperate. To that end, she carefully brushed and rebraided her hair, applied a little discreet makeup, and washed very carefully before putting on her chosen outfit and a windbreaker. If she rubbed herself just a little bit, just enough to put her slightly on edge, that would only make the morning a little more fun.
As on Tuesday, the practice began a bit early. By 6:40, all the Gryffindors had assembled on the sideline for their instructions.
“Alicia, Katie, as I said on Tuesday, I’ll be joining you to practice our moves. Harry will help me keep an eye on the rest of you, so don’t think that you can goof off! Sloper, you’ve made some real progress over the last couple of weeks. Keep it up! Harry, my broom’s over here.” With that, Harry fell in line behind his captain as she removed her windbreaker- causing Harry to stop short.
Instead of her usual Quidditch gear, Angelina wore only a very tight maroon top with gold edging and a similarly colored pair of bicycle shorts. When she straddled her broom, Harry stared at her for a few seconds before running behind her. Then he paused, uncertain as to where he should place his hands. His only other experience as one of two (or more) people on a flying implement was with Hermione, when he was riding in the lead on Buckbeak almost two years earlier.
“Come on, Harry. Just put your hands on my sides, and we can get started,” Angelina said, smiling back at him. Harry did as his captain ordered, and the two of them took off.
For the next hour and a half, Harry was trapped in an emotional cycle, even while he supervised the Beaters and the Weasleys to the best of his ability. He’d start thinking about how pleasant it was to actually ride a broom for the first time, as opposed to piloting it, and his mind would start to wander. His hands would begin to creep around to Angelina’s stomach, and he would press closer to her, especially when she dove while working with the Chasers. He’d start having some pleasant feelings down below, from a body part that would start rubbing against the posterior just a few layers of cloth away. He’d realize what he was doing and where his body was, and jerk back in shock. A few minutes later, the cycle would start again.
Harry had just reached the end of such a cycle, at 8:10, when it happened.
Whatever else you could say about him, Jack Sloper worked hard. He knew that he was only in the lineup because of emergency conditions, and would have a hard time defending his spot on the roster next year. To make up for his lack of innate skill, he resolved to listen to every piece of instruction he heard, stay in the air until told to come down, and hit the Bludger as hard as he could every time.
At that moment, Andrew Kirke had just hit an off-balance Bludger toward him. By chance, Andrew had managed to put it right in Jack’s wheelhouse, and Jack responded by hitting it as hard as any Bludger he’d ever struck.
Unfortunately, he hit it directly toward Angelina and Harry. Even more unfortunately, Angelina was busy trying to maneuver the other Chasers into a Hawkshead attacking formation, and thus had her head twisted around too far to see the Bludger.
But Harry saw it bearing down on them. The next few seconds seemed to pass in slow motion. With a yell, he pressed down on Angelina’s shoulders, while twisting his own body down and to the right to try to avoid the hurtling chunk of iron while he attempted to keep it in sight. He saw the Bludger miss Angelina’s head by perhaps two inches, the air disturbed by its motion picking up several of her dreadlocks. He felt it pass an inch from his own head as his hair ruffled in the wind. As he started to lose his balance, he called out again and grabbed Angelina in a death grip. Angelina immediately heeded his cries and set the broom down, Harry still clinging to her shoulders.
Harry’s heart was beating a mile a minute as it began to sink in- a teammate had nearly succeeded where Voldemort had so often failed. Jack had already landed and was running toward Harry and Angelina, screaming apologies at the top of his lungs. In fact, only the Weasleys, oblivious to the events around them, were still in flight. Needless to say, Angelina ended the practice immediately, summoning Harry to join her in the captain’s office.
The captain’s office was a small room off of the tunnel connecting the locker rooms and the Quidditch field. Once they were inside, Angelina embraced Harry.
“You saved my life, Harry. I honestly don’t know what to say,” Angelina blurted.
“I was saving my own life too, Angelina. That’s part of what I try to teach in the DA- you’ve got to make decisions quickly and you’ve got to be lucky,” Harry said, feeling a bit embarrassed. “If you’d been facing Jack and I’d been looking away, then you’d have saved me.”
“I hope so, Harry. But you did save us. And, well, I guess that makes this a little more awkward,” Angelina responded. Harry didn’t really know how to react, as Angelina let him go and sat down in an old chair. After a minute, Angelina continued, “I’ve been talking with Hermione lately. She’s worried about you, and wants to be sure that you’re okay. That’s one reason that I’ve been inviting you to all our practices. I want you to feel like you’re still part of the team. And if anyone ever straightens out Umbridge, you’ll be welcome back.” Neither of them could imagine that happening.
“But there’s another reason I wanted to talk to you today, Harry. I...” Angelina trailed off again, and Harry patiently waited for her to start again. “I know that you noticed how I dressed for practice today.” Harry blushed as he remembered the way she must have ‘noticed’ him.
“Harry, after Fred and I broke up, I wanted to be with you as your girlfriend. That’s one of the reasons why I joined the DA, and asked Alicia and Katie to join too. I enjoy spending time with you, here and in the Common Room. Unlike some people who’ve been captain of this team, I don’t think of Quidditch 24 hours a day. Just 19 or 20,” she joked.
After Harry stopped laughing, she continued. “But I know that you have your mind on bigger things, outside of Hogwarts. I want to be part of it,” she continued, only to be cut off by Harry.
“Angelina, the ‘bigger things’ you’re talking about include fighting Voldemort. Trust me, you don’t want any part of that. I don’t want any part of it!” Harry exclaimed.
“But you have a plan, instead of just sitting and complaining or beating up on your friends! That’s something I can’t say for anyone else here, teachers or students. Except maybe Snape, and I doubt he’s on our side. Besides, I’ve known you for five years, I like you,” she said, getting up and moving to where Harry was standing, “And I have to say that, from the ‘interest’ you showed in me today, you must like me.” With that, she took his chin in one hand and kissed him deeply- only to have him pull away after a few seconds, pushing on her shoulders.
“Angelina,” he gasped, “Angelina. It’s Hermione. She’s my girlfriend now. I can’t do this to her.”
“Harry, I know. And she knows. She won’t mind, really she won’t. Actually,” Angelina said, smiling, “I think she wouldn’t mind being where you are now.”
“Kissing you?” Harry asked, barely able to keep his jaw from dropping.
“Kissing me,” Angelina confirmed with a quick peck on Harry’s cheek. “When we talk, she tries to keep eye contact and doesn’t always succeed. I don’t mind- I’m proud of my body,” she said with a flourish, “I work hard to look like this, and I’m glad that someone appreciates it. I don’t think Fred really did.”
“I remember that he said that he…” Harry started, but didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Angelina did.
“Yes. Once last year, and it wasn’t much fun, to tell the truth. Then a couple of weeks later, he hinted that he wanted to do it again- and he brought George with him,” Angelina reported, smirking at Harry’s gobsmacked reaction. “Yeah, that was the end of that. I’m glad that you mentioned Hermione, though. I’d like to avoid making the same mistake twice.”
“Well, don’t worry. We’ll try to make new mistakes instead,” Harry jested before turning serious. “Actually, we’ve got two other secrets to tell you.”
“What, Harry?” Angelina inquired.
“I think it’ll be easier to show you tonight than to try to explain now.” With that, Harry and Angelina left the office to shower and change.
---
Several hundred miles away and about twelve hours later, it was a fine, breezy evening in London, and Fleur Delacour was quietly approaching the end of her patience at the back of Madame Perenelle’s, a moderately fancy magical restaurant just off of Diagon Alley.
William Weasley had been nice at first, she thought, and she admitted that her English really had improved during those first couple of months. She had rewarded him with a couple of dates. But lately, he had dropped her office more and more, in the belief that he was entitled to be her boyfriend- or worse, lover. She had said little to him over the last few weeks, trying to dissuade him without success. She had invited him to this restaurant tonight and paid for dinner to politely tell him not to pester her any more.
Bill Weasley, on the other hand, had a different take on their relationship (starting with the idea that he thought they had one). He believed that Fleur spoke to him less often because she was finally getting the finer points of the language down, that her words to him were less enthusiastic because they were getting more serious, and that her efforts to fend off his advances were to satisfy her honor and show that she was not a scarlet woman. Tonight, he figured, she would tell him that he had waited long enough. He certainly thought so.
Twice, while discussing work and the weather, Bill had let his hand fall upon Fleur’s thigh, covered by a long skirt that she had hoped would serve as a hint. Twice she removed it, the second time interrupting her speech to tell him to stop.
“Fleur, I’m just trying to be friendly,” Bill said, but his leer was unmistakable.
“That is the kind of friendship I am not looking for right now, William,” Fleur retorted, firmly placing his hand on the table. “I appreciate your help, but I do not want a romance right now.”
Bill raised his voice to reply. “Oh, come on, Fleur! You’ve been leading me on for months now, with your inviting me to your office-“
“I have not done this for three months now!” Fleur replied, also loudly.
“-and you’ve been leaving little messages for me-“ Bill continued.
“Those were owls for your office, William!” Fleur snapped. “Which reminds me, I’ve seen some of them again and again. Do you do any actual work over there?”
“-and I know that you invited me here to tell me that I’ll get what I deserve!” With that, Bill brought his hands back below the table to raise her dress.
Full-blooded veela are known to change into birds when highly agitated. Fleur lacked this ability but, like most women with veela blood, she possessed a somewhat avian build nonetheless. She had a narrow, aquiline face, broad shoulders, modest breasts, and slim hips leading to the slender legs that Bill was trying to expose.
Like most veela and their descendants, she also possessed considerable upper body strength, which she demonstrated with both of her fists on William’s face, several times. “I have had it with you, Bill! I do not want to see you again, and I shall tell my manager what you have done!” With that, Fleur stormed out.
Bill Weasley, soi-disant romantic man about town, was left to moan in his seat with a broken heart. And nose. But he did get what he deserved, although he certainly wouldn’t agree.
Fleur, for her part, wondered what the problem was with the men of this country. The veela allure always attracted men, but they shouldn’t have their tongues hanging out like dogs! The one English man she had met who behaved like a gentleman around her was that young man, Harry Potter, back during the Tournament. Why couldn’t more men be like him?
Actually, she thought as she reached the local Portkey station, she really ought to get in touch with him. To have seen what he had seen that night- well, she was glad to have been spared, and hoped that he was alright.
---
Harry went through his sleeping exercise as usual that evening just before midnight, trying to finish by focusing on Angelina. The exercise was proving to be more difficult when he tried to control the ending, but he believed that he’d managed it as he fell into slumber… just in time for the mirror next to his bed to start flashing lights and making whirring sounds.
Opening his eyes, Harry grabbed the mirror and put it on the pillow, bending over it. “Hello?” he said fuzzily.
The pink-haired face of his favorite Auror appeared. “Wotcher, Harry! Sorry I called so late, but my shift ran long this evening. Did I wake you up?”
“’Fraid so, Tonks. But it’s not your fault. So, when will you be able to teach us the spell?” Harry said more clearly.
“Hmmm,” Tonks said, putting a finger to her chin. For some reason, the camera view pulled back to reveal her in a fluffy white bathrobe. “Sorry, just took a shower. I really needed one after a long, hard day,” she chirped, and the view narrowed again.
“How does eleven o’clock sound? I know you don’t want to get up too early, and neither do I,” she explained.
“Sounds great, Tonks. Is there anything else you want to tell me? How’s Sirius?” Harry inquired.
“He’s fine, Harry. Looks happier now that he hears from you regularly. Nope, that should do it. See you then!” With her trademark grin, Tonks tapped her mirror and it turned off.
Harry now had to repeat his sleeping exercise. He thought he’d managed it, but couldn’t be sure…
---
He had. In the corridor he had visited so often before, he met Hermione and Luna as usual, and shortly after came across the silver initials AJ next to a hall leading away.
This time, as they walked, he heard their steps begin to echo, and electric lights began to appear on the sides of the hallway. After making a couple of turns, they were able to determine what kind of building they were in. It was a stadium, a little smaller than the one that hosted the Quidditch World Cup. It didn’t glow and had features that appeared distinctly Muggle, like an electric scoreboard. The three of them walked out to the opening in front of them and then down stairs that eventually led to field level.
On the playing field below them, there were about twenty figures, in some form of armor covered by garish uniforms. The action involved an oblong ball given to one player, whose teammates tried to protect him from being crushed by his opponents, with only brief success.
“Oh, I know what this is!” Hermione yelled after a few seconds.
“It appears to be the mating dance of the-“ Luna started, but was interrupted.
“No, Luna. This is football!” Hermione cried, as usual pleased when she got to announce that she knew something.
“No, it’s not,” Harry corrected.
“Yes, it is, Harry! Why do you say that?” Hermione demanded.
“Because Dean is crazy about football. At least once a week during their season, he gets a letter from his dad describing West Ham’s latest match. I’ve gotten a pretty good idea of what football is from his letters, and that,” he gestured toward the field where the players had grouped into huddles, “is definitely not football.”
“But I went to a game like this last summer, an exhibition at Wembley. This is American football. They’ve got different rules and everything,” Hermione explained.
“I’ll have to take your word for it. I don’t think Dean would care for it- too much time when nothing is happening,” Harry conceded as they reached the field. They were on the side whose players wore red and yellow uniforms, while their opponents were clad in silver and green.
“This side are in the same colors as Gryffindor, and the other side are in Slytherin’s colors. So if we’re in Angelina’s dream, she must be somewhere on this side of the field, unless she’s on the field,” Harry reasoned.
“People are starting to stare at us,” Luna pointed out. It was true; they were in their Imperial uniforms, and the three figures clad in black leather were very distinctive. “We should probably try to look like the other women at field level.”
“You’re right, Luna. Let me see…” Hermione scanned the area for other women, but there were none visible among the players. Then over near one end of the field, she saw several performing women in red and yellow, jumping and urging on the crowd. She concentrated to copy their uniforms on her and Luna’s bodies. “Alright, Harry, how do we look?” she inquired.
Harry saw that he was now wearing a uniform, and then looked at the two women with him. Each of his companions was now wearing a thin, tight red-and-yellow top that exposed her midriff and a very short pleated skirt in the same colors. Looking down with an effort, he saw that both were still wearing the Imperial boots. “Very impressive. But unless you change your shapes, people will still be-“ Harry was stopped by a woman’s voice screaming.
“Right Deuce Trigger! Left Eight Zig on Two!” The voice was very clear even if her words made no sense in sequence. With that, the source of the words came into view, and they saw that it was Angelina.
Hermione and Luna had both added greatly to their heights in their dream forms. Angelina hadn’t “grown” nearly so much, but she was already rather tall; this version of Angelina was a bit taller than Luna but still shorter than Hermione. She was wearing an expensive-looking suit with a fedora and a headset. She started yelling random words again.
“Hey, Angelina!” Harry called, and Angelina stopped short.
“Harry? But you’re, I mean, what are you doing here?” Angelina yelled in confusion.
“Remember that I told you that I had a couple of surprises for you? This is one of them. I can enter other people’s dreams under certain conditions,” Harry explained. “There are Hermione and Luna, at least as they see themselves. Well, not the uniforms, but…” Harry faltered as he tried to explain, but Angelina was already nodding in understanding.
“You can enter other people’s dreams? Have you ever been in mine before?” Angelina demanded.
“No, never. I just learned how to do this a couple of weeks ago. It’s part of my Occlumency training- that’s why Snape has me doing remedial Potions lessons,” Harry answered.
“Snape?” Angelina asked with a frown.
“I know, but it works so far,” Hermione responded, and Luna nodded her agreement.
“Could you hold on just a second? I need to talk to my quarterback,” Angelina interrupted. She yelled for a “time out” and then called one of the players over to her.
Harry wasn’t very surprised that this player looked a lot like him. He was intrigued that his friends had such a similar dream image of him- about six inches taller than in real life, muscular, and not wearing glasses (although he’d get them broken immediately in this game, Harry figured). They talked, and Angelina whispered something in the other Harry’s ear, then slapped him on the butt and sent him back onto the field.
Looking at the scoreboard, Hermione saw that the Gryffindor team was down by five points with only a few seconds left on the clock. “How many plays can you run in that time?” Luna asked.
“Just one,” Angelina responded. “But he’ll only need one.”
“How long have you been an American football fan?” Hermione asked.
“My dad was born in the US and was a big fan, and he taught me to enjoy this game,” Angelina answered. “Now be quiet or we’ll miss the play!”
When play started, quarterback Harry took the ball and ran to his right, then up the field. He jumped completely over a couple of tacklers, pushed down a Slytherin who looked a lot like Goyle with his free hand, and simply ran over a defender who closely resembled Malfoy. With no figures in green and silver ahead of him, he ran all the way to the end of the playing field, and a man in a striped shirt raised his hands as a gun went off in the distance.
“We won! We did it!” Angelina ripped off her headset and screamed, running out onto the field along with the rest of the Gryffindor players and Harry’s trio. When she encountered the other Harry, who had removed his helmet, she jumped in his arms and kissed him. After they came up for air, she said something else that Harry and his friends couldn’t hear. Then she scrambled out of the quarterback’s arms and back to Harry’s group.
“I had to apologize for not… celebrating with him properly,” Angelina said. “Now, is Luna here the other surprise?”
“Well, yes. How did you recognize her?” Harry didn’t know that Angelina knew Luna, and even if she had, this Luna didn’t look that much like the real-life version.
“I still remember that lion hat she made earlier this year. Made quite an impression,” Angelina said, chuckling. “And Hermione has mentioned her a couple of times. Is she your girlfriend, too?”
“I hope so. I’m certainly working on it, Angelina. I’m Hermione’s girlfriend too, or would like to be. Can I be yours?” Luna then adopted a round-eyed, almost puppylike pout; he knew he’d find it very convincing, especially combined with that body and outfit.
Apparently, so did Angelina. “Oh, sure. Why not? You seem like a nice girl and Harry and Hermione certainly think highly of you. Now, I’d planned on commemorating our victory with Harry, I mean the other Harry, in my office. Why don’t you join me?” With that, she gave the others a saucy grin and a wink, before turning around and walking away, with a little extra wiggle in her hips. Harry, Hermione, and Luna ran to catch up with her.
Once locked in her office- a much more spacious one than Harry and Angelina had visited that morning- Angelina removed her blazer. Harry knew an invitation when he saw one and took Angelina in his arms, for a much longer and deeper kiss than they’d shared that morning. His hands reached around her to squeeze her buttocks; the gasp she made suggested that he’d done something right.
“My turn,” Hermione said as soon as Harry came up for air. As she was taller than Angelina, Hermione bent down to kiss Angelina on the lips while Hermione’s hands wandered around Angelina’s back and eventually between her legs. A gentle caress there caused Angelina to moan louder than before when their lips finally separated.
Sure enough, Luna tapped Hermione on the shoulder as she wanted her own smooch. Luna’s kiss was softer than Harry’s or Hermione’s, but her hands were more aggressive, homing in on pulling up Angelina’s blouse and then creeping under her slacks to tickle her lower lips. With that, Angelina came, loudly.
“How have we done so far?” Harry grinned as he moved back into Angelina’s embrace.
“Very well, Harry. But you’ve just started, right?” As Angelina purred, Harry ripped her blouse open to reveal Angelina’s unbound breasts, which looked larger than in real life. He bent down to suckle one while his other hand reached to unfasten her slacks and he…
Woke up with some inconsiderate idiot shaking him.
“Ron, what the bloody hell are you doing?” Harry growled.
“It’s nine o’clock, Harry. Time for breakfast!” With that, a fully dressed Ron scampered away toward the common room. Muttering all the while, Harry started to get dressed.
---
---
Friday, March 15th started clear and considerably warmer than normal for the British Isles at the beginning of spring.
Friday started a bit earlier for Angelina Johnson than for others at Hogwarts, as she had set her alarm to awaken her at 4 am. Her dreams that night had been unusually vivid, as they had been since Tuesday, involving Harry, herself, and very few clothes. Since she was graduating in three months, she knew she couldn’t wait any longer to find out if Harry felt the same feelings toward her that she felt for him.
She knew that her best chance was to come to practice looking her best, and thanked the gods that the weather was going to cooperate. To that end, she carefully brushed and rebraided her hair, applied a little discreet makeup, and washed very carefully before putting on her chosen outfit and a windbreaker. If she rubbed herself just a little bit, just enough to put her slightly on edge, that would only make the morning a little more fun.
As on Tuesday, the practice began a bit early. By 6:40, all the Gryffindors had assembled on the sideline for their instructions.
“Alicia, Katie, as I said on Tuesday, I’ll be joining you to practice our moves. Harry will help me keep an eye on the rest of you, so don’t think that you can goof off! Sloper, you’ve made some real progress over the last couple of weeks. Keep it up! Harry, my broom’s over here.” With that, Harry fell in line behind his captain as she removed her windbreaker- causing Harry to stop short.
Instead of her usual Quidditch gear, Angelina wore only a very tight maroon top with gold edging and a similarly colored pair of bicycle shorts. When she straddled her broom, Harry stared at her for a few seconds before running behind her. Then he paused, uncertain as to where he should place his hands. His only other experience as one of two (or more) people on a flying implement was with Hermione, when he was riding in the lead on Buckbeak almost two years earlier.
“Come on, Harry. Just put your hands on my sides, and we can get started,” Angelina said, smiling back at him. Harry did as his captain ordered, and the two of them took off.
For the next hour and a half, Harry was trapped in an emotional cycle, even while he supervised the Beaters and the Weasleys to the best of his ability. He’d start thinking about how pleasant it was to actually ride a broom for the first time, as opposed to piloting it, and his mind would start to wander. His hands would begin to creep around to Angelina’s stomach, and he would press closer to her, especially when she dove while working with the Chasers. He’d start having some pleasant feelings down below, from a body part that would start rubbing against the posterior just a few layers of cloth away. He’d realize what he was doing and where his body was, and jerk back in shock. A few minutes later, the cycle would start again.
Harry had just reached the end of such a cycle, at 8:10, when it happened.
Whatever else you could say about him, Jack Sloper worked hard. He knew that he was only in the lineup because of emergency conditions, and would have a hard time defending his spot on the roster next year. To make up for his lack of innate skill, he resolved to listen to every piece of instruction he heard, stay in the air until told to come down, and hit the Bludger as hard as he could every time.
At that moment, Andrew Kirke had just hit an off-balance Bludger toward him. By chance, Andrew had managed to put it right in Jack’s wheelhouse, and Jack responded by hitting it as hard as any Bludger he’d ever struck.
Unfortunately, he hit it directly toward Angelina and Harry. Even more unfortunately, Angelina was busy trying to maneuver the other Chasers into a Hawkshead attacking formation, and thus had her head twisted around too far to see the Bludger.
But Harry saw it bearing down on them. The next few seconds seemed to pass in slow motion. With a yell, he pressed down on Angelina’s shoulders, while twisting his own body down and to the right to try to avoid the hurtling chunk of iron while he attempted to keep it in sight. He saw the Bludger miss Angelina’s head by perhaps two inches, the air disturbed by its motion picking up several of her dreadlocks. He felt it pass an inch from his own head as his hair ruffled in the wind. As he started to lose his balance, he called out again and grabbed Angelina in a death grip. Angelina immediately heeded his cries and set the broom down, Harry still clinging to her shoulders.
Harry’s heart was beating a mile a minute as it began to sink in- a teammate had nearly succeeded where Voldemort had so often failed. Jack had already landed and was running toward Harry and Angelina, screaming apologies at the top of his lungs. In fact, only the Weasleys, oblivious to the events around them, were still in flight. Needless to say, Angelina ended the practice immediately, summoning Harry to join her in the captain’s office.
The captain’s office was a small room off of the tunnel connecting the locker rooms and the Quidditch field. Once they were inside, Angelina embraced Harry.
“You saved my life, Harry. I honestly don’t know what to say,” Angelina blurted.
“I was saving my own life too, Angelina. That’s part of what I try to teach in the DA- you’ve got to make decisions quickly and you’ve got to be lucky,” Harry said, feeling a bit embarrassed. “If you’d been facing Jack and I’d been looking away, then you’d have saved me.”
“I hope so, Harry. But you did save us. And, well, I guess that makes this a little more awkward,” Angelina responded. Harry didn’t really know how to react, as Angelina let him go and sat down in an old chair. After a minute, Angelina continued, “I’ve been talking with Hermione lately. She’s worried about you, and wants to be sure that you’re okay. That’s one reason that I’ve been inviting you to all our practices. I want you to feel like you’re still part of the team. And if anyone ever straightens out Umbridge, you’ll be welcome back.” Neither of them could imagine that happening.
“But there’s another reason I wanted to talk to you today, Harry. I...” Angelina trailed off again, and Harry patiently waited for her to start again. “I know that you noticed how I dressed for practice today.” Harry blushed as he remembered the way she must have ‘noticed’ him.
“Harry, after Fred and I broke up, I wanted to be with you as your girlfriend. That’s one of the reasons why I joined the DA, and asked Alicia and Katie to join too. I enjoy spending time with you, here and in the Common Room. Unlike some people who’ve been captain of this team, I don’t think of Quidditch 24 hours a day. Just 19 or 20,” she joked.
After Harry stopped laughing, she continued. “But I know that you have your mind on bigger things, outside of Hogwarts. I want to be part of it,” she continued, only to be cut off by Harry.
“Angelina, the ‘bigger things’ you’re talking about include fighting Voldemort. Trust me, you don’t want any part of that. I don’t want any part of it!” Harry exclaimed.
“But you have a plan, instead of just sitting and complaining or beating up on your friends! That’s something I can’t say for anyone else here, teachers or students. Except maybe Snape, and I doubt he’s on our side. Besides, I’ve known you for five years, I like you,” she said, getting up and moving to where Harry was standing, “And I have to say that, from the ‘interest’ you showed in me today, you must like me.” With that, she took his chin in one hand and kissed him deeply- only to have him pull away after a few seconds, pushing on her shoulders.
“Angelina,” he gasped, “Angelina. It’s Hermione. She’s my girlfriend now. I can’t do this to her.”
“Harry, I know. And she knows. She won’t mind, really she won’t. Actually,” Angelina said, smiling, “I think she wouldn’t mind being where you are now.”
“Kissing you?” Harry asked, barely able to keep his jaw from dropping.
“Kissing me,” Angelina confirmed with a quick peck on Harry’s cheek. “When we talk, she tries to keep eye contact and doesn’t always succeed. I don’t mind- I’m proud of my body,” she said with a flourish, “I work hard to look like this, and I’m glad that someone appreciates it. I don’t think Fred really did.”
“I remember that he said that he…” Harry started, but didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Angelina did.
“Yes. Once last year, and it wasn’t much fun, to tell the truth. Then a couple of weeks later, he hinted that he wanted to do it again- and he brought George with him,” Angelina reported, smirking at Harry’s gobsmacked reaction. “Yeah, that was the end of that. I’m glad that you mentioned Hermione, though. I’d like to avoid making the same mistake twice.”
“Well, don’t worry. We’ll try to make new mistakes instead,” Harry jested before turning serious. “Actually, we’ve got two other secrets to tell you.”
“What, Harry?” Angelina inquired.
“I think it’ll be easier to show you tonight than to try to explain now.” With that, Harry and Angelina left the office to shower and change.
---
Several hundred miles away and about twelve hours later, it was a fine, breezy evening in London, and Fleur Delacour was quietly approaching the end of her patience at the back of Madame Perenelle’s, a moderately fancy magical restaurant just off of Diagon Alley.
William Weasley had been nice at first, she thought, and she admitted that her English really had improved during those first couple of months. She had rewarded him with a couple of dates. But lately, he had dropped her office more and more, in the belief that he was entitled to be her boyfriend- or worse, lover. She had said little to him over the last few weeks, trying to dissuade him without success. She had invited him to this restaurant tonight and paid for dinner to politely tell him not to pester her any more.
Bill Weasley, on the other hand, had a different take on their relationship (starting with the idea that he thought they had one). He believed that Fleur spoke to him less often because she was finally getting the finer points of the language down, that her words to him were less enthusiastic because they were getting more serious, and that her efforts to fend off his advances were to satisfy her honor and show that she was not a scarlet woman. Tonight, he figured, she would tell him that he had waited long enough. He certainly thought so.
Twice, while discussing work and the weather, Bill had let his hand fall upon Fleur’s thigh, covered by a long skirt that she had hoped would serve as a hint. Twice she removed it, the second time interrupting her speech to tell him to stop.
“Fleur, I’m just trying to be friendly,” Bill said, but his leer was unmistakable.
“That is the kind of friendship I am not looking for right now, William,” Fleur retorted, firmly placing his hand on the table. “I appreciate your help, but I do not want a romance right now.”
Bill raised his voice to reply. “Oh, come on, Fleur! You’ve been leading me on for months now, with your inviting me to your office-“
“I have not done this for three months now!” Fleur replied, also loudly.
“-and you’ve been leaving little messages for me-“ Bill continued.
“Those were owls for your office, William!” Fleur snapped. “Which reminds me, I’ve seen some of them again and again. Do you do any actual work over there?”
“-and I know that you invited me here to tell me that I’ll get what I deserve!” With that, Bill brought his hands back below the table to raise her dress.
Full-blooded veela are known to change into birds when highly agitated. Fleur lacked this ability but, like most women with veela blood, she possessed a somewhat avian build nonetheless. She had a narrow, aquiline face, broad shoulders, modest breasts, and slim hips leading to the slender legs that Bill was trying to expose.
Like most veela and their descendants, she also possessed considerable upper body strength, which she demonstrated with both of her fists on William’s face, several times. “I have had it with you, Bill! I do not want to see you again, and I shall tell my manager what you have done!” With that, Fleur stormed out.
Bill Weasley, soi-disant romantic man about town, was left to moan in his seat with a broken heart. And nose. But he did get what he deserved, although he certainly wouldn’t agree.
Fleur, for her part, wondered what the problem was with the men of this country. The veela allure always attracted men, but they shouldn’t have their tongues hanging out like dogs! The one English man she had met who behaved like a gentleman around her was that young man, Harry Potter, back during the Tournament. Why couldn’t more men be like him?
Actually, she thought as she reached the local Portkey station, she really ought to get in touch with him. To have seen what he had seen that night- well, she was glad to have been spared, and hoped that he was alright.
---
Harry went through his sleeping exercise as usual that evening just before midnight, trying to finish by focusing on Angelina. The exercise was proving to be more difficult when he tried to control the ending, but he believed that he’d managed it as he fell into slumber… just in time for the mirror next to his bed to start flashing lights and making whirring sounds.
Opening his eyes, Harry grabbed the mirror and put it on the pillow, bending over it. “Hello?” he said fuzzily.
The pink-haired face of his favorite Auror appeared. “Wotcher, Harry! Sorry I called so late, but my shift ran long this evening. Did I wake you up?”
“’Fraid so, Tonks. But it’s not your fault. So, when will you be able to teach us the spell?” Harry said more clearly.
“Hmmm,” Tonks said, putting a finger to her chin. For some reason, the camera view pulled back to reveal her in a fluffy white bathrobe. “Sorry, just took a shower. I really needed one after a long, hard day,” she chirped, and the view narrowed again.
“How does eleven o’clock sound? I know you don’t want to get up too early, and neither do I,” she explained.
“Sounds great, Tonks. Is there anything else you want to tell me? How’s Sirius?” Harry inquired.
“He’s fine, Harry. Looks happier now that he hears from you regularly. Nope, that should do it. See you then!” With her trademark grin, Tonks tapped her mirror and it turned off.
Harry now had to repeat his sleeping exercise. He thought he’d managed it, but couldn’t be sure…
---
He had. In the corridor he had visited so often before, he met Hermione and Luna as usual, and shortly after came across the silver initials AJ next to a hall leading away.
This time, as they walked, he heard their steps begin to echo, and electric lights began to appear on the sides of the hallway. After making a couple of turns, they were able to determine what kind of building they were in. It was a stadium, a little smaller than the one that hosted the Quidditch World Cup. It didn’t glow and had features that appeared distinctly Muggle, like an electric scoreboard. The three of them walked out to the opening in front of them and then down stairs that eventually led to field level.
On the playing field below them, there were about twenty figures, in some form of armor covered by garish uniforms. The action involved an oblong ball given to one player, whose teammates tried to protect him from being crushed by his opponents, with only brief success.
“Oh, I know what this is!” Hermione yelled after a few seconds.
“It appears to be the mating dance of the-“ Luna started, but was interrupted.
“No, Luna. This is football!” Hermione cried, as usual pleased when she got to announce that she knew something.
“No, it’s not,” Harry corrected.
“Yes, it is, Harry! Why do you say that?” Hermione demanded.
“Because Dean is crazy about football. At least once a week during their season, he gets a letter from his dad describing West Ham’s latest match. I’ve gotten a pretty good idea of what football is from his letters, and that,” he gestured toward the field where the players had grouped into huddles, “is definitely not football.”
“But I went to a game like this last summer, an exhibition at Wembley. This is American football. They’ve got different rules and everything,” Hermione explained.
“I’ll have to take your word for it. I don’t think Dean would care for it- too much time when nothing is happening,” Harry conceded as they reached the field. They were on the side whose players wore red and yellow uniforms, while their opponents were clad in silver and green.
“This side are in the same colors as Gryffindor, and the other side are in Slytherin’s colors. So if we’re in Angelina’s dream, she must be somewhere on this side of the field, unless she’s on the field,” Harry reasoned.
“People are starting to stare at us,” Luna pointed out. It was true; they were in their Imperial uniforms, and the three figures clad in black leather were very distinctive. “We should probably try to look like the other women at field level.”
“You’re right, Luna. Let me see…” Hermione scanned the area for other women, but there were none visible among the players. Then over near one end of the field, she saw several performing women in red and yellow, jumping and urging on the crowd. She concentrated to copy their uniforms on her and Luna’s bodies. “Alright, Harry, how do we look?” she inquired.
Harry saw that he was now wearing a uniform, and then looked at the two women with him. Each of his companions was now wearing a thin, tight red-and-yellow top that exposed her midriff and a very short pleated skirt in the same colors. Looking down with an effort, he saw that both were still wearing the Imperial boots. “Very impressive. But unless you change your shapes, people will still be-“ Harry was stopped by a woman’s voice screaming.
“Right Deuce Trigger! Left Eight Zig on Two!” The voice was very clear even if her words made no sense in sequence. With that, the source of the words came into view, and they saw that it was Angelina.
Hermione and Luna had both added greatly to their heights in their dream forms. Angelina hadn’t “grown” nearly so much, but she was already rather tall; this version of Angelina was a bit taller than Luna but still shorter than Hermione. She was wearing an expensive-looking suit with a fedora and a headset. She started yelling random words again.
“Hey, Angelina!” Harry called, and Angelina stopped short.
“Harry? But you’re, I mean, what are you doing here?” Angelina yelled in confusion.
“Remember that I told you that I had a couple of surprises for you? This is one of them. I can enter other people’s dreams under certain conditions,” Harry explained. “There are Hermione and Luna, at least as they see themselves. Well, not the uniforms, but…” Harry faltered as he tried to explain, but Angelina was already nodding in understanding.
“You can enter other people’s dreams? Have you ever been in mine before?” Angelina demanded.
“No, never. I just learned how to do this a couple of weeks ago. It’s part of my Occlumency training- that’s why Snape has me doing remedial Potions lessons,” Harry answered.
“Snape?” Angelina asked with a frown.
“I know, but it works so far,” Hermione responded, and Luna nodded her agreement.
“Could you hold on just a second? I need to talk to my quarterback,” Angelina interrupted. She yelled for a “time out” and then called one of the players over to her.
Harry wasn’t very surprised that this player looked a lot like him. He was intrigued that his friends had such a similar dream image of him- about six inches taller than in real life, muscular, and not wearing glasses (although he’d get them broken immediately in this game, Harry figured). They talked, and Angelina whispered something in the other Harry’s ear, then slapped him on the butt and sent him back onto the field.
Looking at the scoreboard, Hermione saw that the Gryffindor team was down by five points with only a few seconds left on the clock. “How many plays can you run in that time?” Luna asked.
“Just one,” Angelina responded. “But he’ll only need one.”
“How long have you been an American football fan?” Hermione asked.
“My dad was born in the US and was a big fan, and he taught me to enjoy this game,” Angelina answered. “Now be quiet or we’ll miss the play!”
When play started, quarterback Harry took the ball and ran to his right, then up the field. He jumped completely over a couple of tacklers, pushed down a Slytherin who looked a lot like Goyle with his free hand, and simply ran over a defender who closely resembled Malfoy. With no figures in green and silver ahead of him, he ran all the way to the end of the playing field, and a man in a striped shirt raised his hands as a gun went off in the distance.
“We won! We did it!” Angelina ripped off her headset and screamed, running out onto the field along with the rest of the Gryffindor players and Harry’s trio. When she encountered the other Harry, who had removed his helmet, she jumped in his arms and kissed him. After they came up for air, she said something else that Harry and his friends couldn’t hear. Then she scrambled out of the quarterback’s arms and back to Harry’s group.
“I had to apologize for not… celebrating with him properly,” Angelina said. “Now, is Luna here the other surprise?”
“Well, yes. How did you recognize her?” Harry didn’t know that Angelina knew Luna, and even if she had, this Luna didn’t look that much like the real-life version.
“I still remember that lion hat she made earlier this year. Made quite an impression,” Angelina said, chuckling. “And Hermione has mentioned her a couple of times. Is she your girlfriend, too?”
“I hope so. I’m certainly working on it, Angelina. I’m Hermione’s girlfriend too, or would like to be. Can I be yours?” Luna then adopted a round-eyed, almost puppylike pout; he knew he’d find it very convincing, especially combined with that body and outfit.
Apparently, so did Angelina. “Oh, sure. Why not? You seem like a nice girl and Harry and Hermione certainly think highly of you. Now, I’d planned on commemorating our victory with Harry, I mean the other Harry, in my office. Why don’t you join me?” With that, she gave the others a saucy grin and a wink, before turning around and walking away, with a little extra wiggle in her hips. Harry, Hermione, and Luna ran to catch up with her.
Once locked in her office- a much more spacious one than Harry and Angelina had visited that morning- Angelina removed her blazer. Harry knew an invitation when he saw one and took Angelina in his arms, for a much longer and deeper kiss than they’d shared that morning. His hands reached around her to squeeze her buttocks; the gasp she made suggested that he’d done something right.
“My turn,” Hermione said as soon as Harry came up for air. As she was taller than Angelina, Hermione bent down to kiss Angelina on the lips while Hermione’s hands wandered around Angelina’s back and eventually between her legs. A gentle caress there caused Angelina to moan louder than before when their lips finally separated.
Sure enough, Luna tapped Hermione on the shoulder as she wanted her own smooch. Luna’s kiss was softer than Harry’s or Hermione’s, but her hands were more aggressive, homing in on pulling up Angelina’s blouse and then creeping under her slacks to tickle her lower lips. With that, Angelina came, loudly.
“How have we done so far?” Harry grinned as he moved back into Angelina’s embrace.
“Very well, Harry. But you’ve just started, right?” As Angelina purred, Harry ripped her blouse open to reveal Angelina’s unbound breasts, which looked larger than in real life. He bent down to suckle one while his other hand reached to unfasten her slacks and he…
Woke up with some inconsiderate idiot shaking him.
“Ron, what the bloody hell are you doing?” Harry growled.
“It’s nine o’clock, Harry. Time for breakfast!” With that, a fully dressed Ron scampered away toward the common room. Muttering all the while, Harry started to get dressed.
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