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SIYE Time:16:01 on 29th March 2024
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Picking Up The Pieces
By Dopeydo

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Category: The Carpe Diem Challenge (2017-1), The Carpe Diem Challenge (2017-1)
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Genres: Angst, Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 20
Summary: It's not easy being possessed.
Hitcount: Story Total: 9487; Chapter Total: 1583





Author's Notes:
A little bit more from PoA here for setting the scene, credit to JKR. Thanks for the positive feedback!




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Harry stretched luxuriously on his bed as he was woken by Dean’s wind-up alarm clock. He went through the motions absent-mindedly, and had showered, brushed his teeth, dressed and gone halfway down the stairs before interrupting his routine with conscious thoughts such as ‘what’s Divination going to be like?’, ‘has Ginny got anyone in Gryffindor to hang out with?’ and ‘what in heck does Madam Pomfrey mean, delicate?’


 

He was turning these questions over in his head when he walked right into the girl in question.


 

“Sorry, Ginny,” Harry rushed. “My head’s all...”


 

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, turning very red.


 

“Oh, hey,” said Hermione, her head appearing over the back of an armchair. “Is Ron...?”


 

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged.


 

Hermione looked at him for a moment, then sighed and shooed him up the stairs. “Go get him, Harry.”


 

When Harry got to their dorm, he found Ron just getting out of bed. The red-haired boy yawned mightily, staring groggily at him.


 

“Mate,” said Ron. “You sure you went to sleep?”


 

“I’m sure I look a damn sight better than that,” Harry grinned, dodging the pillow that came his way. “Come on, are you going to be late for your first class?”


 

Ron gave him a vaguely sardonic bleary look. “Do I look like Hermione to you?”


 

“Well from this side — oi!”


 

Harry abandoned the cause at that point, turning to head back down the stairs. Seamus came storming past him with two towels, while Dean shouted bloody murder from the showers.


 

Taking the stairs two at a time, Harry stopped dead at the bottom. Ice water pooled in his gut. On a sofa on the far side of the fireplace, Ginny and Hermione were sitting together, giggling.


 

Taking a deep breath, Harry headed over to them, wondering why this was so much more terrifying than chasing down Lord Voldemort.


 

“Mind that table, Harry,” Hermione smirked. “We don’t want you knocking those delicate knees of yours.”


 

“Oh I am so going to — bugger!” Harry grunted as his knee slammed into the table.


 

He saw the tip of Ginny’s wand disappear up her sleeve, and narrowed his eyes at her. She gave him a very convincing ‘who, me?’ expression, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. Dropping onto the sofa next to her, he put one arm behind her, and caught the hand concealing her wand with his other.


 

“Tell me, Ginny,” he said, leaning in so only she could hear. “What will I find up here?”


 

Ginny looked right into his eyes, making Harry acutely aware of how close they were. Her cheeks were flushing a deep red, and Harry found himself forgetting what they were talking about as he looked into her big, dark, golden brown eyes.


 

“I don’t know, Harry,” Ginny said. “What will you find hidden in my robes?”


 

Harry felt his own eyes widen. Hermione, on the other hand, let out something Harry could only describe as a howl.


 

Ginny smirked up at him, biting her lower lip in a way that derailed his thoughts still further.


 

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” Fred and George said.


 

“This here,” one of them said, indicating a metre bubble around Ginny. A bubble that he was most decidedly inside.


 

“Is protected space,” said the other.


 

“A no-fly zone, if you will,” the other added.


 

“We understand that you haven’t been properly educated about this,” one said.


 

“So we’re letting you off on this one,” the other said.


 

“But if we see it happen again...” they finished.


 

Ginny smirked up at him, one eyebrow climbing up in challenge. A challenge Harry found himself inexplicably eager to answer.


 

“Well, friends, seeing as you’re so kindly overlooking it this time,” Harry said, turning to look at Ginny’s very big older brothers, “you wouldn’t mind if I stayed in the, err, no-fly zone a little longer?”


 

“Not at all, Harry,” one of them smiled.


 

“Oh,” said the other, “oh dear, that hasn’t turned out too well, has it?”


 

It was then that he realised that he was no longer holding Ginny’s wrist. Looking around, Harry found her standing a good two metres away, her arm around Hermione. The redhead grinned and winked at him.


 

“On the contrary,” Harry grinned. “I think things are going perfectly.”


 

Ginny turned bright red, but the smile she gave him was a clear green.


 

They took off as soon as Ron got there, the twins already having left with Lee Jordan. When they reached the Great Hall, the first thing they saw was Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be entertaining a large group of Slytherins with a very funny story. As they passed, Malfoy did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.


 

Harry was about to say something, but Ginny shook her head, grinning. Raising her hand, she made a very visible gesture with her little finger that turned Malfoy purple with rage and mortification.


 

Harry dropped into a seat at the Gryffindor table, next to George Weasley.


 

“New third-year course schedules,” said George, passing them over. “What’s got you lot in such a good mood?”


 

“Your sister is a riot,” Hermione said. Harry wasn’t sure whether the comment was exasperated or admiring.


 

“She certainly did learn well,” said Fred.


 

“Oh I did, did I?” Ginny laughed. “Tell us all how many times Mum gave me dish duty.”


 

“Hey now, sis,” Fred smirked.


 

“You’ve got to at least make it a level playing field,” said George.


 

“Boys, I couldn’t do that if I tried,” Ginny said.


 

“Damn!” Lee crowed. “That’s a knockout from the red corner.”


 

“What in the world did you say to her yesterday?” Hermione muttered.


 

Harry grinned at her. “Hermione, if you can’t figure it out, what do you expect from me?”


 

“Well unless she’s secretly a dementor,” Hermione said, “I suppose she must really like you.”


 

“And either way she wants to kiss me, right?” said Harry. “I’d say that’s a pretty good deal.”


 

“That could almost be sweet if we didn’t have dementors all around our school,” she hissed.


 

Harry grinned easily. “Hermione, my life is always at risk. At least she’s pretty!”


 

Hermione shook her head and sighed, returning to her breakfast.


 

“Oh don’t be like that Hermione,” Harry said, throwing Ginny a wink. The redhead blushed, but rolled her eyes at him. “You’re very pretty too.”


 

“Oh,” Ginny said, leaning back and giving him a dangerous look. “So I’m just pretty, but Hermione’s ‘very pretty’, hmm?”


 

Harry blinked, his eyes flicking over to a smirking Fred. “Err... No, I...”


 

Hermione just smirked at him, picking up her bags and leaving with a quick, “See you in Divination Harry.”


 

Ron, who arrived as Hermione was leaving, seemed utterly oblivious to the rising mirth of his housemates, began piling his plate with gusto, immediately engrossed. Past a grunted good morning, his attention was taken up solely by breakfast. Harry couldn’t help but snigger even in his state of mortification.


 

Ginny looked up at him through bright orange/red bangs and blushed both brilliantly and very suddenly. Funny. She was perfectly forward when Hermione was around...


 

“So, what have you got first?” Harry asked.


 

“Err...” Ginny said, fumbling for her timetable.


 

Lavender and Parvati were stifling giggles, which Harry attempted to quell with a hard look but he may have only made things worse.


 

“Ugh,” Ginny scowled. “Potions.”


 

“Ouch,” said Harry. “Don’t tell me you have it with the Slytherins too.”


 

“No, Hufflepuff,” said Ginny. “Still, I don’t know if I can make it through another year of his classes without sticking his greasy head in my cauldron.”


 

“It’s a daily struggle,” Fred agreed.


 

“But if you want to get him worked up...” Harry said. “Find some casual way to start talking about my dad.”


 

Ginny gave him a funny look. “Why...?”


 

“As far as I can tell, they uh... didn’t get along,” Harry said. “At all. And it’d be nice if for once it was him that was stewing over it than me losing points and getting detentions because I have the audacity to exist.”


 

Cocking her head at him, Ginny nodded, a shifty smile pulling at her lips. They were very pink, and Harry found himself wondering if they were as soft as they looked. Distracted as he was, he started when she spoke.


 

“Yeah, I can do that,” said Ginny. “But if I’m getting him worked up about your dad, won’t he take it out on you?”


 

“Snape doesn’t compare to Voldemort, or a basilisk,” Harry grinned. “Go have some fun.”


 

Harry left the hall on a quest to find the Divination classroom, so that he wouldn’t be late the following period, only to be yanked into a broom cupboard.


 

“You’re both charming guys, really,” Harry said. “But I’ve got to be honest, you’re not my type.”


 

The twins smirked at him.


 

“We figured as much,” Fred said.


 

“Dreadful shame, really,” George grinned.


 

“We had this elaborate plan...” said Fred.


 

“Serenade you by moonlight...” said George.


 

“Take a boat out on the lake...”


 

“But first,” Harry grinned. “Necking in a broom cupboard. Classy.”


 

“Worked well enough for ‘im and Angie,” George grinned. Fred casually tripped his twin so that he collapsed in a loud clatter of brooms, buckets and bottles of scouring potions. “Ow, that bloody hurt!”


 

“Now, where were we?” Fred said. “Ah yes, your... type.”


 

“I reckon I know what this is about,” Harry sighed.


 

“Never let it be said the boy’s not sharp,” Fred grinned.


 

George was finally back on his feet, grumbling and brushing himself down. “Listen, Harry, we like you, really.”


 

“Almost like another little brother,” Fred said with mocking levels of fondness.


 

“Thing is,” George said, “we’re guys too.”


 

“If we even suspect you’ve taken advantage of Ginny’s crush, or the Life Debt...” Fred said.


 

Harry stared at them. Up until that point, he hadn’t even considered such a thing. Well, he had considered such things, but not manipulating Ginny like that.


 

“We’ll redesign you from the ground up,” said George.


 

“Clear?” they finished together.


 

“I swear on my life,” Harry said. “I would never, ever do that. Not to her or anyone.”


 

George smiled and patted him on the back. “Good. Now don’t think this means you’re free to go gallivanting off with her.”


 

“We’ll be keeping a very close eye,” Fred said.


 

“Oh, and if you need help finding one of your new classes and Nick isn’t around,” George said, opening the cupboard door.


 

“Ask a portrait,” Fred grinned.


 

Then they were gone.


 

Harry, not feeling quite ready to face the world, collapsed back against the wall.


 

 

The Divination classroom, as it turned out, was quite the trek from the Great Hall. The room itself looked like an attic that had been converted into a tea shop or something. It might have been quite nice and cosy what with the abundance of small, circular tables surrounded by chintz armchairs and little pouffes. However, the curtains were all drawn, the air was thick with a sickly perfume and the only light came from a low fire and lamps draped with red scarves. The overall effect was overwhelmingly stifling.


 

Harry headed over to the table Hermione had claimed. She seemed vaguely amused.


 

“No Ron?” she said. “You must have left in a hurry.”


 

Harry turned irritated eyes on her, but she only laughed.


 

“And after you saved her from the Chamber of Secrets too,” Hermione crooned. “Oh Harry, it’s perfect!”


 

“I may actually have to kill you,” said Harry.


 

Hermione snorted. “Oh Harry, we both know I’m much better with a wand.”


 

It took a moment, but Harry slowly looked up, not quite believing his ears. Hermione looked horrified. Her hand was clamped over her mouth.


 

“Do we?” said Harry slowly, wanting to savour every moment. “I don’t think I got that memo, Hermione. When did we find this out?”


 

Hermione seemed torn between laughing and crying.


 

“What’s happened now?” said Ron, dumping his bag.


 

“Hermione’s-ow! Ow! Ow!” Harry cried. “Bloody vicious.”


 

Hermione relented in kicking him, but Harry was quite sure he’d be bruised for weeks, and told her so. Ron, being a great friend, laughed at his misfortune.


 

“Welcome.” The voice was soft and slightly preoccupied, and suited the stuffy room perfectly. “How nice to see you in the physical world at last.”


 

If anything, it was the least bizarre part of the performance they were then given. Professor Trelawney mixed attempts at mysticism into horoscope-like predictions targeted, unsurprisingly, at Neville, Lavender and Parvati. Harry wondered if Trelawney had made inquiries about them beforehand, or whether they simply wore their hearts so openly on their sleeves. The professor of divination certainly wasn’t looking anyone in the eye.


 

At the very least, the melodrama allowed for a few covert laughs. When Trelawney said that books would be of little use to them, Harry couldn’t resist. Grinning at Hermione, he put a consoling arm around her shoulder. She just looked so taken aback.


 

“There, there,” Harry murmured.


 

She shoved him off indignantly, turning bright pink, and he stifled a snort.


 

Still, Harry began to wonder if he’d made the right choice in taking Divination. He already had yearly run-ins with death, and he didn’t need this on top of it. Hermione was still doggedly tracking every word as always, but even she seemed to be getting irked. Whether it was the vague, horoscope-like predictions or the artificially mind-numbing atmosphere that was getting on her nerves, Harry couldn’t tell, but the whole package was a hell of a show, to be sure.


 

They began with tessomancy, the art of reading the tea leaves, and Harry paired off with Ron, who seemed somewhat less amused than Harry or the muggle-borns. They raced each other to drink the tea as fast as possible, which on reflection was probably a mistake. Still, breathing delicately around painfully scalded tongues, they swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped over.


 

It was difficult to think in the dim, foggy room. The heavy perfume slowed their minds to a crawl, but they did their best to read their cups, until Professor Trelawney snatched Harry’s from Ron’s fingers. She was staring into the cup, rotating it anticlockwise, while everyone watched keenly.


 

“The falcon… my dear, you have a deadly enemy.”


 

“But everyone knows that,” said Hermione in a loud whisper.


 

Professor Trelawney stared at her, as did everyone else.


 

“Well, they do,” said Hermione. “Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who.”


 

Harry stared at her with a mixture of amazement and admiration. He’d never heard Hermione speak to a teacher like that before. Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her huge eyes to Harry’s cup again and continued to see ill omens until she gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed.


 

Harry sat and waited while Professor Trelawney took half the class through an act so planned and scripted that he almost looked for television cameras. But after much build-up…


 

“My dear,” Professor Trelawney said, her huge eyes opening dramatically, “you have the Grim.”


 

“Err, should I go and see Madam Pomfrey?” said Harry. “It’s not contagious is it?”


 

Hermione snorted, squeezing her hand over her face to try in vain to hide her mirth. Trying to ignore her giggle fit, Harry could tell that he wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand; Dean Thomas shrugged at him and Lavender Brown looked puzzled, but nearly everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror.


 

“The Grim, my dear, the Grim!” cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harry hadn’t understood. “The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen – the worst omen – of death!”


 

Harry should have been expecting it, but his stomach still twinged. The rest of the class reacted more fully. Everyone was now looking at Harry, except Hermione, who had moved behind the professor.


 

“I don’t think it looks like a Grim,” she said.


 

Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermione with mounting dislike.


 

“You’ll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future.”


 

Hermione gave Harry a sardonic look. Seamus Finnigan was tilting his head from side to side.


 

“It looks like a Grim if you do this,” he said, with his eyes almost shut, “but it looks more like a donkey from here,” he said, leaning to the left.


 

“Well, when you’re all done with the funeral arrangements,” said Harry.


 

“I think we will leave the lesson here for today,” said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest voice. “Yes… please pack away your things…”


 

Silently the class took their teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away their books, and closed their bags.


 

The three of them descended Professor Trelawney’s ladder and the winding stair in silence, setting off to the second floor for Transfiguration. All the way there, Ron said not a word, and the silence was so heavy that neither Harry not Hermione could think of anything to say.


 

Partly to get away from that, and to avoid the looks from the rest of their classmates, Harry nodded towards the front of the classroom. Hermione looked confused, but Ron just shrugged and dropped back to join Dean and Seamus. As he’d expected, most of the class seemed to be glancing ‘subtly’ at him every five seconds as if he might drop dead at any moment. Professor McGonagall was telling them about Animagi (wizards who could transform at will into animals), which seemed like an interesting topic, but he doubted more than half the class were even watching when she transformed herself in front of their eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes.


 

“Really, what has got into you all today?” said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. “Not that it matters, but that’s the first time my transformation’s not got applause from a class.”


 

“I thought it was very impressive, Professor McGonagall,” Harry offered.


 

“Why thank you, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said. “It’s good to know that one person in the class was awake. Well go on then, what’s the matter?”


 

Everybody’s heads turned toward Harry again, but nobody spoke. Then Hermione raised her hand.

“Please, Professor, we’ve just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and –”


 

“Ah, of course,” said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. “There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?”


 

Everyone stared at her.


 

“Me,” said Harry, finally.


 

“I see,” said Professor McGonagall, fixing Harry with a calm stare. “Then you should know, Potter, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favourite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues –” Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, “Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney…”


 

She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, “You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don’t let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in.”


 

Hermione laughed.


 

“Don’t worry Professor, I’ll still do my best,” Harry smiled. “Attempts on my life don’t tend to work out anyway.”


 

Hermione punched him in the shoulder for that one.


 

“If you would restrain yourself from physical violence, Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall said, though she looked uncharacteristically relaxed. “I would rather not put you in detention on the first day of classes.”


 

The rest of the lesson veritably flew by.


 

As they left, however, Ron didn’t join them, busy as he was talking to Dean and Seamus. Shrugging, Harry and Hermione carried on towards the Great Hall without him.


 

“You know, I’ve always wondered whether anyone’s fallen,” Harry said as their stairway on the Grand Staircase choose a new orientation just as it was lining up with their target landing. There was quite a drop to the bottom, even from the first floor.


 

“Well, in Hogwarts: A History,” Hermione said, narrowing her eyes at Harry’s barely concealed smirk, “it says that lots of people used to fall, so they had to put Cushioning Charms on the floors, Repulsion Jinxes on the sides of the stairs and Momentum-Reducing Charms on the walls.”


 

“Why isn’t it hard to walk up and down the stairs then?” Harry asked.


 

Hermione shrugged, smiling absently. “Perhaps they’re triggered by high speed?”


 

“Fancy a run?” Harry grinned.


 

“Oh for goodness’ sake, Harry,” Hermione sighed, before being yanked into a near-sprint.


 

She shrieked as they hurtled down, dropping four steps at a time. She caught her breath at the landing just long enough to yell, “I’m going to kill you!” before they were once again barrelling down, this time to the Entrance Hall landing.


 

Brushing himself off, Harry smirked over at Hermione, whose chest was heaving distractingly...


 

“You prat!” she hissed. The smile growing on her flushed face betrayed her, however. “There could be any number of... Harry?!”


 

For he had taken the opportunity to propel himself over the banister. Sure enough, he was limited to a sedate pace, almost floating down to the surprisingly soft stone floor.


 

“You complete dungbrain!” she yelled down at him.


 

“Dungbrain?” Harry laughed.


 

Almost everyone had already gone to lunch, as could be heard from the nearby Great Hall, but a couple of others leaned over banisters to see what all the yelling was about. Harry headed back up to Hermione, who was glaring at him now.


 

“How could you do something so idiotic?” she fumed.


 

Harry shrugged at her. “I’ve been through worse.”


 

“Not you,” she said. “You took your bag with you. What if you damaged one of your textbooks?”


 

Harry laughed. “Come on, Hermione, let’s go eat.”


 

The Great Hall was, in fact, up to full occupancy. They found seats across from Ginny again. Harry somehow doubted it was coincidence.


 

“This lunatic hurled himself down the Grand Staircase,” Hermione said.


 

Ginny gaped at him, looking rather despondent.


 

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” Harry griped.


 

“No,” Hermione agreed. “He only does that on a broomstick.”


 

“Why in Merlin’s name...?”


 

“He was testing the wards on it,” said Hermione. “And he’s an idiot.”


 

“Thanks for clearing that up,” Harry said drily.


 

Ginny smirked at him. “Tried your little trick, by the way.”


 

“Yeah?” said Harry.


 

“Yeah...” Ginny grinned. “He may murder you.”


 

“Good to know,” Harry shrugged. “Thanks for the heads up.”


 

“Any time,” Ginny said, winking at him.


 

“Hey, Harry,” Ron said, dropping into a seat opposite Hermione.


 

“Hey Ron, wh-”


 

“Look,” said Ron, “you haven’t actually seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?”


 

Harry’s smile faded. “I... Yeah. I saw one the night I left the Dursleys.”


 

Ron stared at him. “Mate...”


 

“It was probably a stray,” Hermione said calmly.


 

Ron looked at her as though she’d gone mad. “Hermione, if Harry’s seen a Grim, that’s — that’s bad,” he said. “Our Uncle Bilius saw one and... he died twenty-four hours later!”


 

“Coincidence,” said Hermione, pouring herself some pumpkin juice. Ginny looked troubled as well, though.


 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” said Ron. “Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!”


 

“There you are then,” Hermione said imperiously. “They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim’s not an omen, it’s the cause of death! And Harry’s still with us because he’s not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I’d better kick the bucket then!”


 

Harry successfully hid his smirk, but Ginny snorted with laughter, a thoroughly guilty, ashamed look on her face.


 

Ron glared at them. “Fine, you deal with it then.”


 

“Ron, listen,” Harry said, but his best friend was already walking away. “Are you two always going to be at each other’s throats?”


 

“I’m not going to let him scare you with these stupid stories,” Hermione said. “Divination seems a very woolly subject in the first place, and this idea of a professor predicting students’ deaths as a tradition... She never even specified when you’d die, I mean we hardly expect you to be immortal, do we?”


 

“Look, Harry,” Ginny sighed. “Grims are a pretty big deal for wizards. Now I wouldn’t put any stock in whatever Professor Trelawney saw in the tea leaves if these stories are true, but if you’ve seen one in real life...”


 

Hermione snorted derisively, but didn’t comment further.


 

“I’ve been through worse, Ginny,” Harry said, putting an arm around her. It was funny how he’d progressed, being barely capable of being hugged a few short months ago. “I promise, I won’t let this stop me.”


 

“Good,” Ginny smirked up at him, “because if you do, I’ll kill you.”

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