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HP429- Not the Sort of Thing You Forget
🕑 Added 2025-05-17 21:40:01 +0000 UTCRest of the Christmas holiday passed quicker than anyone really noticed. Between short trips around France, late breakfasts at the Flamels’, and Petunia’s quiet fondness for the sunroom, things stayed oddly peaceful. She remained in the south after Harry left, wards still layered by Nicolas himself, safety was not a concern.
By the time Harry and his friends arrived, the castle was still half-covered in snow. Icicles drooped from the towers, and the main hall was warm with returning chatter and enchanted fires. Students trudged in, luggage in tow, some still half-asleep. The staff gave their usual smiles, grumbles, and sharp looks at dress code violations. Classes resumed two days later. Snape was already assigning essay pairs by the time most students remembered what day it was.
The Duelling Club started up again the following week. The room buzzed as usual—mannequins moving across the floor, students testing reflex drills, others comparing spell cooldowns like it was a sport. The enchanted book system still worked perfectly; stats updated, and spell trackers ran fine. A few third-years tried to challenge the high-tier section and got bounced straight back by the gating charm.
Harry stood off to the side with Tracey and Susan, flipping through a new batch of data in his admin copy of the book. Susan looked over his shoulder, munching on a pear tart.
“You’ve got Neville in top five now?” she asked.
“He’s been practicing,” Harry replied.
“Can’t argue that. I saw him take down a Shield Spider last week with a banishment spell and a mop.”
Tracey looked up from her own book. “A mop?”
“He didn’t realise it was enchanted cleaning gear until halfway through. Just rolled with it.”
Tracey grinned. “Classic Neville.”
Meanwhile, Luna was in a corner practising wind magic by launching parchment birds at anyone walking past. Blaise walked into one and didn’t even blink. “You realise this counts as harassment, right?”
Luna shrugged. “They’re friendly.”
Elsewhere, Daphne had Hermione in a one-on-one sparring loop that was starting to gather a small crowd. Both were holding their own—Hermione with sharp, clean casting; Daphne with movement spells that kept her in constant motion. Pansy stood nearby, arms folded, offering commentary like it was a Quidditch match.
“She’ll go for the disarming hex,” Pansy said.
“She always does,” Astoria replied, perched beside her.
“She should try the mirror bind,” Pansy said. “Bet Granger hasn’t practised it properly.”
As if on cue, Daphne spun, flicked her wand—and Hermione’s spell bounced straight back into her own shoulder. Daphne arched a brow.
Pansy smirked. “Told you.”
As the room started to empty out, students packing up their things or heading off with the usual post-duel chatter, Harry flicked his wand once to vanish a scorch mark on the nearest dummy. He didn’t look up until he heard a rustle behind him—Susan was still there, wand in hand, scooping up stray equipment and resetting dummies into place.
“You don’t have to stay,” Harry said, tapping another rune marker into reset. “I’ll lock up.”
Susan laughed lightly. “And leave you to clean everything by yourself? Not likely.” She knelt beside one of the practice mats and started tidying the edges, but there was a faint flush on her cheeks—likely from the sparring earlier, though her hair was sticking slightly to her forehead, eyes a bit too wide, a bit too flicky.
Harry raised a brow. “You’re the one always going on about sleep. Tracey’s got a whole chart on it somewhere.”
Susan didn’t look up, but her reply was light. “I’ll survive missing a few hours if it means the room isn’t a disaster tomorrow.”
Harry looked at her, one brow raised. “I’m still going to wake you lot in the morning, you know that?”
Susan gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “It’s fine. I want to help you.”
“I’ll give you some peace,” Nigel murmured, tone sly. “For now.”.
Only after catching the mischief tone in Nigel's voice did Harry realized what was going on. Susan hadn’t really needed to stay behind. Not for cleanup. Not for an extra sweep. She could’ve left ages ago. But she hadn’t. And he hadn’t said anything about it because, frankly, he hadn’t minded.
She was still down by the mats, stacking training pads, a faint flush still clinging to her cheeks. The kind that didn’t come from sparring anymore. She was focused on a particularly stubborn strap, not looking at him.
Harry didn’t say anything at first, just crossed the room and flicked the pad into place with a tap of his wand.
Susan startled slightly, then gave a short laugh. “I forgot I can do that.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “You forgot how to magic?”
She flicked him a look, hair stuck slightly to her cheek. “No, just… didn’t think to.”
He tapped the last training pad into place with a flick of his wand. “You’re not usually the one doing clean-up duty, Bones. Something on your mind?”
Susan stood up, brushing off her skirt. “Maybe I just wanted the room to myself for a bit.”
Harry glanced around. Empty mats, half-dimmed sconces, faint hum from the resetting wards. “Well, you’ve got me instead.”
“Hardly a downgrade,” she said, then looked a touch embarrassed she’d said it aloud. She covered it by fussing with one of the mats. “Besides, if I left you in here on your own, who’d make sure you didn’t overwork yourself?”
Harry smirked. “You think I need supervision?”
Susan gave him a dry look. “You’ve ended up in the hospital wing a few times now—either from pushing through too many sleepless nights or trying to cram more magic into your head than it could handle. I’m not sure you know what rest means.”
He shrugged. “Rest is relative. Besides, it’s not like I do it for fun.”
She stepped a bit closer, hand on her hip. “No? Then why do you do it?”
He tilted his head. “Because it works.”
Susan didn’t answer right away. Her gaze lingered on him, sharper than usual. “You always knew what to do. Even back in first year.”
Harry didn’t flinch at the shift in tone. “Lot of guessing, really. Lucky most of it worked.”
“You caught me,” she said, quietly. “When I fell off my broom. First flying lesson.”
“I remember,” he said. “You nearly flattened me.”
Susan laughed, slapping his arm. “I did not. I weighed nothing in first year.”
Harry grinned. “No, no, I remember. I felt sore all night.”
She raised an eyebrow. “From catching me?”
“From being flattened,” he said. “You landed like a brick.”
Susan huffed, pretending to be offended, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “You’re lucky I didn’t knock you out.”
“I was nearly concussed,” he said. “Didn’t hear straight for half the lesson after.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
Harry leaned against the edge of a practice dummy. “Am I? You screamed on the way down.”
She gave him a look. “I was ten.”
“Still loud.”
Susan rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now. “You could’ve let me hit the ground, you know. Everyone else backed off.”
“Well,” Harry said, casually adjusting one of the nearby dummies with a flick of his wand, “didn’t seem right. Figured I’d earn some house points.”
Susan let out a short laugh. “You did, more than that.”
Harry tilted his head. “Oh? I thought it was just house points.”
She gave him a look. “You caught me, Potter. Not the sort of thing you forget.”
He smirked, brushing dust off one of the mats. “Clearly. You’ve been holding onto that fall for years?”
Susan shrugged, but there was a flicker of something behind her grin. “Might’ve stuck with me, yeah.”
“Could’ve told me,” he said, eyeing the way she still lingered near the training pad even though everything was already sorted.
“Thought it’d go to your head,” she said, stepping closer, arms crossing lightly. “Didn’t want to feed your ego.”
Harry shrugged, “Too late. I’m Emperor now, and according to Astoria, I’ve got a harem.”
Susan gave him a sharp look, the corner of her mouth twitching. “Oh, does Your Majesty deign to dance with peasants then?”
He smirked. “Depends. Are the peasants bringing snacks?”
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling properly now. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m the best. Ask anyone.”
“I’d rather not get involved in that debate,” she said, taking a step closer.
Harry got near her, touched her hand, and didn’t pull back. “You alright?”
Susan looked up, eyes flicking to his hand, then back to his face. “Yeah.”
She didn’t move away either.
