Kapitel 21: Chapter 20
Draco, still fuming from the day's chaotic events, caught up with Harry and his friends as they trudged back to the castle. Usually, Draco would wear his trademark sneer, but this time, his expression was more of a hesitant grimace. He wasn't used to being out of his comfort zone, and it showed.
"Potter," Draco began, his voice tinged with reluctance, "I... I owe you a Life Debt now, don't I?"
Harry, taken aback by the unexpected confrontation, glanced at Ron and Hermione for support. Ron shrugged, but Hermione nodded, confirming Draco's words. Ron leaned in and whispered, "Life Debt is a big deal, mate. Basically means he owes you his life."
Harry frowned, considering the weight of Draco's statement. "Look, Malfoy, I didn't save you so you'd owe me anything," he replied, trying to keep things cool and casual, which is easier said than done when you're thirteen and trying not to freak out over wizarding customs you just learned about. "That's not how it works."
Draco's jaw tightened, his pride visibly wounded by the idea of owing Harry Potter anything. "I can't just owe you forever," he insisted, sounding both stubborn and vulnerable. "What do you want in return?"
Before Harry could answer, Hermione chimed in, her voice soft but firm. "Draco, it's not something you can just pay back. It's magical and binding."
Draco's frustration was palpable as he shifted his gaze between them, obviously struggling to come to terms with the situation. "There has to be something," he muttered, more to himself than to the others.
Harry thought for a moment, then finally spoke up. "Draco, there is something you can do."
Draco raised an eyebrow, skeptical yet curious. "What is it, Potter? Just say it."
Harry hesitated, knowing the importance of what he was about to ask. "I want you to free Dobby, your family's house-elf."
Draco looked confused. "How do you even know about Dobby?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.
Ron couldn't resist adding his two knuts. "It's a Life Debt, mate. You owe Harry, and he's asking for something big."
Draco considered Harry's request, clearly torn. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh and nodded. "Fine, Potter. If that's what you want."
Draco called for Dobby, and with a crack, the house-elf appeared before them, his large ears trembling nervously. "Dobby," Draco began, offering his tie to the elf, "you are free."
Dobby's eyes widened in astonishment, and his entire face lit up with a mixture of joy and disbelief. "Master Draco is freeing Dobby?" he squeaked, clutching the tie like it was the greatest gift in the world.
Draco glanced briefly at Harry, his expression unreadable. "Consider the Life Debt repaid, Potter," he said tersely before turning on his heel and walking away.
As Draco retreated, Dobby turned to Harry with tears of joy in his enormous eyes. "Thank you, thank you, great Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby squeaked, holding the silk tie to his chest as if it were a lifeline.
Harry nodded, touched by Dobby's overwhelming gratitude and the unexpected turn of events. Jean, who had been watching nearby, chuckled softly. "You've got a real knack for making interesting friends, Harry," she said, a light in her eyes that made Harry's heart do a little flip.
Harry grinned sheepishly, feeling a warm flutter in his chest at Jean's laughter. He really liked it when she laughed, though he wasn't quite sure how to say that without sounding like a total dork.
Hermione turned to Harry with a thoughtful expression. "So, Harry, what are you going to do now that you've freed Dobby?"
Harry scratched the back of his head, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "I'm not really sure, Hermione. I just wanted to do something good for him after everything he's been through. I hadn't thought much about what comes next."
Hermione nodded, clearly impressed by Harry's actions. "Well, it's a wonderful thing you've done. Dobby deserves his freedom."
Ron, who had been standing by quietly, chimed in, "Yeah, mate. You did the right thing. Dobby's free now, thanks to you."
Jean smiled at Harry, her eyes twinkling in that way that always made him feel a little light-headed. "You've got a good heart, Harry. I'm sure Dobby will find his way."
Just then, Dobby stepped forward, his eyes still brimming with admiration. "Great Harry Potter, sir," he said earnestly, "Dobby is forever grateful to you. Dobby... Dobby would like to be your house-elf, if Harry Potter would have him."
Harry blinked, surprised by the request. "Dobby, you don't have to do that. You're free now. You can do whatever you want."
Dobby nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir! Dobby knows! But Dobby wants to help Harry Potter. Dobby wants to serve the greatest wizard he knows. If Harry Potter will allow it, Dobby would be honored to be his house-elf."
Harry exchanged a look with Hermione, Ron, and Jean. Hermione seemed a bit torn, but Ron was nodding in approval. Jean gave Harry an encouraging smile that made his insides do a little happy dance.
"Alright, Dobby," Harry said finally, "if that's what you really want, I'd be happy to have you around. But only if you promise me one thing."
"Anything, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby said, his eyes wide with anticipation.
"Promise me you'll remember that you're free and that you can leave anytime you want," Harry said firmly. "You can make your own choices, Dobby."
Dobby's eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of joy. "Dobby promises, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is free, and Dobby will serve Harry Potter because he chooses to!"
Harry smiled, feeling a warm glow in his chest. "Alright, Dobby. Welcome aboard."
Dobby's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Thank you, Harry Potter, sir! To officially become Harry Potter's house-elf, we must hold hands and make a magically binding pact."
Harry hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He reached out and took Dobby's small, rough hand in his. As they clasped hands, a warm, golden light enveloped them both, signifying the formation of the pact.
As the magical bond formed, Harry felt a strange sensation, a tingling that spread through his body. He realized that his mutant ability was at work, absorbing some of Dobby's unique powers and abilities. He could feel the magic coursing through him, merging with his own.
The light faded, and Dobby looked up at Harry with a beaming smile. "It is done, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby is now your house-elf."
Harry gave Dobby's hand a final squeeze before letting go. "Thank you, Dobby. I'm glad to have you with us."
Dobby's eyes were full of gratitude and determination. "Dobby will serve Harry Potter faithfully!"
Hermione, Ron, and Jean had watched the entire exchange in awe. Hermione seemed slightly concerned but also accepting. Ron was clearly impressed, and Jean gave Harry an encouraging nod.
As they continued their walk back to the castle, Harry couldn't help but feel a new sense of strength and connection, both to his friends and to the magical world around him. With Dobby by his side, he felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
—
As the sun began its slow descent, casting a golden glow over Hogwarts' grounds, Harry and his friends headed toward the Quidditch pitch. Harry carried his prized Firebolt, while Jean cradled his old Nimbus 2000, looking both nervous and excited for her first flying lesson. Fred and George Weasley, along with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, tagged along. Ron and Ginny were eager to practice for the Reserve team tryouts. Ginny was set on becoming a Chaser—or Seeker if she could, while Ron aimed to be the new Keeper. They both carried school brooms that might as well have been old mop sticks compared to Harry's Firebolt.
Hermione, ever the studious one, preferred to watch from the stands with a thick tome in her lap. She glanced up from time to time to offer encouragement, but was mostly absorbed in her reading, or at least pretending to be. Truth be told, she found her eyes drifting more toward Harry than the text, her cheeks flushing slightly as she watched him prepare for the lesson.
"Alright, Jean," Harry said, flashing a reassuring smile. "Flying is all about confidence and balance. Just relax and trust the broom. Easy-peasy."
Jean nodded, her grip on the Nimbus 2000 so tight her knuckles were white. "Confidence and balance. Got it," she muttered, trying to sound more certain than she felt.
Up in the air, Fred and George were already zipping around, demonstrating their Quidditch skills with playful jibes. "Come on, Harry! Show Jean how to fly!" George called out, as Fred zoomed by with a grin.
Ginny, a natural on a broom, gave Jean an encouraging smile. "You'll do great, Jean. Just follow Harry's lead. And if you crash, at least try to land on something soft."
Ron, holding his broom, looked like he was debating between practicing or sneaking back to the common room for a nap. "I'm going to practice some saves. Ginny, think you can chuck the Quaffle at me without taking my head off?"
Ginny laughed. "I'll do my best, but no promises, Ron."
Harry mounted his Firebolt and kicked off, hovering just above the ground as he waited for Jean to do the same. "Ready?" he asked.
Jean took a deep breath, then nodded. "As I'll ever be."
"Okay, on three. One, two, three!" Harry said, and they both pushed off the ground.
Jean wobbled for a moment, but quickly found her balance, trailing behind Harry. "This is... amazing!" she exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face as wide as a Quidditch goal.
"See? Told you!" Harry called back, feeling a mix of pride and relief. He was pretty sure his heart was doing cartwheels, which was either a good sign or a sign he needed to see Madam Pomfrey.
Fred and George whooped as they flew past, executing a synchronized barrel roll that would've given any Muggle aerobatics team a run for their money. Hermione, who had been feigning interest in her book, looked up and clapped enthusiastically. "Great job, Jean!" she called out, her voice slightly higher than usual.
Ginny and Ron had started their practice session. Ginny tossed the Quaffle toward Ron, who managed to block it with a clumsy but effective swing of his broom. "Nice save, Ron!" Ginny cheered, her competitive spirit on full display.
After a few more laps, Harry and Jean landed smoothly on the grass. "You were fantastic," Harry said, helping her dismount.
Jean beamed at him, her eyes shining with excitement. "Thanks, Harry. That was incredible. I can't believe I was actually flying!"
Fred and George landed beside them, looking amused. "You sure you're not part Weasley?" Fred asked Jean. "You've got a knack for this."
"Yeah, you're already better than Ron was his first time out," George added, earning a scowl from Ron.
"Oi! I wasn't that bad," Ron protested, though a grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Hermione joined them, tucking her book under her arm. "You all looked great out there," she said, giving Jean a nod of approval. Her eyes lingered on Harry for a moment, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of something she couldn't quite name, watching him and Jean laughing together.
As they walked back to the castle, the group was in high spirits, sharing jokes and stories. Harry felt a sense of camaraderie and warmth that made the world seem just a little bit brighter. Sure, there were exams and dangerous magical creatures and the occasional dark wizard trying to kill him, but right now, surrounded by his friends, he felt like the luckiest kid at Hogwarts.
Fred and George, ever the pranksters, were plotting their next big stunt. "So, I was thinking," Fred began, "we sneak into Snape's office—"
"—and switch out his potion ingredients for sugar and flour," George finished.
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "You two are going to get yourselves expelled one of these days."
"Expelled? Us? Never!" Fred said with a grin. "We're far too charming for that."
Ron rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smile. "You're going to give Mum a heart attack, you know that, right?"
Ginny nudged Ron playfully. "As if you're any better, Ron. I saw you trying to aim for Fred and George out there."
"Just keeping them on their toes," Ron replied with a smirk.
Jean and Harry walked side by side, stealing glances at each other and blushing whenever their eyes met. It was that awkward yet thrilling stage where they both knew they liked each other but were too shy to say anything about it.
As they reached the castle doors, Hermione looked at Harry and Jean, then at Ron and Ginny, and smiled to herself. Despite the chaos and danger that often surrounded them, moments like these made everything worthwhile. And as the sun set over Hogwarts, casting long shadows across the grounds, they all felt a little bit closer, a little bit stronger, and a whole lot luckier to have each other.
—
As the sun set over the Hogwarts grounds, casting a golden glow on everything in sight, Harry and his friends headed back from the Quidditch pitch, the excitement from their flying session still buzzing around them like an over-caffeinated pixie. That's when they spotted a familiar figure walking barefoot through the castle corridors. It was Luna Lovegood, the second-year Ravenclaw with a flair for the whimsical and a penchant for seeing things differently. Today, her feet were bare, her blonde hair loose and tangled as if she'd just escaped from a particularly friendly thicket.
"Luna!" Ginny called out, quickening her pace to catch up. "What are you doing walking around barefoot? Did you lose your shoes to some hungry Nargles again?"
Luna turned, her large, dreamy eyes lighting up at the sight of Ginny and the others. "Hello, Ginny. Hello, everyone," she said, her voice as airy as the breeze drifting through the corridors. "I just wanted to feel the cool stone under my feet. It's quite grounding, you know. Like hugging a giant squid but without all the tentacles."
Harry noticed Luna's typically carefree demeanor seemed more subdued today, and he exchanged a concerned look with Hermione. Hermione, was quick to pick up on Luna's mood. She was also very aware of the obvious chemistry brewing between Harry and Jean, which made her own feelings more tangled than a pack of doxy-dusted broomsticks.
"Luna, have those Ravenclaw seniors been bothering you again?" Ginny asked, her tone laced with a sisterly concern that would have made Mrs. Weasley proud.
Luna shrugged, her gaze drifting off to a nearby tapestry that depicted a group of wizards trying (and failing spectacularly) to teach a group of trolls how to dance. "They don't understand," she said softly. "They think I'm strange because I talk about the creatures they've never seen. Like Blibbering Humdingers and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks."
Fred and George exchanged glances, their expressions hardening in a way that promised a world of trouble for anyone who messed with their friends. "Who's been giving you trouble, Luna?" Fred asked, his voice serious for once.
"We can have a word with them," George added, his knuckles cracking ominously. "And by word, we mean a prank so spectacular it'll be legendary."
Luna smiled faintly, her eyes twinkling with a touch of mischief. "That's kind of you, but it's alright. I don't mind. They just don't know any better. Besides, pranks can be quite fun. Maybe we could turn their robes into Flutterby bushes?"
"That's not fair, Luna," Ginny insisted, placing a comforting hand on Luna's shoulder. "You shouldn't have to put up with that nonsense. You're a Ravenclaw, not their personal target dummy."
Jean stepped forward, her eyes soft with empathy. "You have every right to be yourself, Luna. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise. Plus, who else is going to remind us that Wrackspurts are everywhere?" Jean glanced at Harry, and they shared a smile that made both of them feel a bit fluttery inside.
Ron nodded, his expression more determined than Harry had seen since their last chess game. "Yeah, you're just as much a part of this school as anyone else. If they can't see that, it's their loss, not yours. Maybe they need a few lessons in 'Don't Be a Troll 101.'"
Luna's smile widened a bit, and she looked at Harry with those big, earnest eyes. "Thank you, all of you. Your kindness means a lot. It's like a Butterbeer on a chilly day—warm and comforting."
Harry felt a surge of determination. "If you ever need help, Luna, don't hesitate to ask. We're all here for you. Consider us your personal anti-bully squad, equipped with wit, wisdom, and a few trick wands."
Luna nodded, her eyes shining with gratitude. "I'll remember that, Harry Potter. And thank you for being my friends. Friends are like the stars; you don't always see them, but you know they're always there."
As they continued their walk back to the common room, Ginny fell into step beside Luna, chatting animatedly to lift her spirits. The rest of the group surrounded them, forming a protective circle of friendship and mischief that would make any foe think twice before crossing them.
Harry glanced at Jean, who gave him an encouraging smile, and his heart did a little somersault. It was those little moments that made everything worthwhile. Even Hermione, who was struggling with her own feelings, couldn't help but smile at the camaraderie among her friends.
As they walked through the castle, their laughter echoing off the ancient stone walls, Harry realized that they were more than just a group of friends. They were a family, bound by shared adventures, jokes, and a fierce loyalty that could withstand even the darkest magic. And as the evening shadows lengthened, the bonds of friendship and understanding grew even stronger, lighting the way through whatever challenges lay ahead.
—
As they entered the Gryffindor common room, the familiar warmth and chatter enveloped them, creating a cozy contrast to the chilly corridors of the castle. The place felt like an old sweater—comfortable, slightly worn around the edges, but filled with a certain magic all its own. They made their way toward the fireplace, where the rest of their friends were huddled, chattering away like a flock of sparrows at dawn.
Suddenly, a tall, confident fourth-year Gryffindor swaggered over to them, his eyes locked onto Jean. Harry recognized him as Cormac Maclaggen, known for his over-the-top charm and a smile as wide as the Great Lake. "Hey there, you must be Jean," he said, flashing what he probably thought was a dazzling grin. "I'm Cormac Maclaggen. Welcome to Gryffindor."
Jean smiled politely, even though her expression suggested she'd rather be anywhere else at the moment. "Nice to meet you, Cormac," she replied, her voice cordial but cool.
Cormac's grin widened, and Harry could almost see the gears turning in his head. "So, Jean, I was thinking, if you ever need any help with, you know, anything at all, I'd be more than happy to assist. Maybe a tour of the castle sometime? I know all the secret passages." He added a wink that he probably thought was charming but came off as more of an involuntary twitch.
Harry felt a surge of protectiveness bubble up inside him, his jaw clenching like someone had just offered him a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and only the bogey-flavored ones were left. He stepped a bit closer to Jean, subtly positioning himself between her and Cormac, trying to keep his expression neutral and failing miserably.
Hermione, ever observant, noticed Harry's reaction and raised an eyebrow. She leaned over and whispered, "Harry, you alright?" Her voice was soft, but her eyes sparkled with a mix of concern and something else—something she wouldn't quite let herself acknowledge.
Harry gave a brief nod, trying to maintain his composure. "Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered, though he wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Hermione. She could read him like one of her textbooks, only with slightly less enthusiasm and more dog-eared pages.
Jean, sensing the tension in the air, glanced at Harry and then back at Cormac. "Thanks, Cormac. I'll keep that in mind," she said diplomatically, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She shifted closer to Harry, the move subtle but significant.
Fred and George, who had been watching the interaction with the kind of glee usually reserved for planning their next big prank, decided to step in. "Cormac, mate, don't you have a detention to serve?" Fred said with a grin that promised all sorts of mayhem.
"Yeah, McGonagall mentioned something about you needing to scrub cauldrons," George added, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
Cormac's confident demeanor faltered for a moment, like a cat caught halfway through knocking over a vase. "Uh, right. I should probably get to that," he stammered, shooting one last look at Jean before reluctantly heading toward the portrait hole.
As soon as Cormac was out of earshot, Ron snickered. "Nice save, you two. Cormac would have been unbearable if he kept at it."
Fred shrugged nonchalantly. "Someone had to do it. Can't let him scare off the new talent."
George smirked, his eyes darting between Jean and Harry. "Or steal Harry's chance at giving a proper tour."
Jean chuckled, a sound that made Harry's heart do a little dance. He looked at Hermione, who gave him a knowing smile. She was happy for them but couldn't help the little pang of jealousy that tugged at her heartstrings.
"You handled that well," Hermione whispered, her tone teasing yet supportive.
Harry pretended like he didn't know what she was talking about, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Handled what well?" he asked, feigning innocence, though his ears were turning as red as Ron's hair.
Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled. "Oh, nothing," she said, her voice playful. "Just making sure you know that we're all here to help if you need it."
Harry nodded, grateful for Hermione's discretion. "Thanks, Hermione," he said, relaxing a bit. He glanced over at Jean, who was now engaged in conversation with Ginny about their flying lesson, and couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest.
As the evening wore on, the common room filled with the sounds of laughter and the crackling fire. Harry found himself stealing glances at Jean, feeling that warm, fluttery sensation in his chest each time she smiled or laughed. He knew Hermione was right; jealousy wasn't a good look, especially on him. But he couldn't deny the growing feelings he had for Jean, feelings that seemed to intensify with every passing day.
For now, Harry was content to enjoy the company of his friends, knowing they had his back no matter what. And maybe, just maybe, one day he'd find the courage to tell Jean how he felt. Until then, he was happy to be a part of this motley crew of mischief-makers and magical misfits, ready for whatever adventures awaited them in the ever-mysterious world of Hogwarts.
—
As the Gryffindor common room buzzed with the usual late afternoon energy, the door swung open with a dramatic flair that could only be described as Oliver Wood's signature entrance. With his face lit up like the Hogwarts Express on Christmas Eve, he strode in and called out to the room, "Listen up, everyone!"
Heads turned, and the room fell silent, hanging on every word. "I've just received fantastic news from Professor McGonagall—she's given us permission to form a reserve team! Tryouts will be next weekend!"
The announcement hit the common room like a Quidditch bludger, causing a wave of excitement to ripple through the crowd. Ginny's eyes sparkled with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for a Quidditch victory, while Ron's grin was so wide it looked like it might split his face in two.
"That's amazing!" Ron exclaimed, already picturing himself in a Keeper's uniform, catching every shot that came his way.
"Brilliant!" Ginny echoed, her mind racing through possibilities for Seeker or Chaser roles. She looked like she could hardly wait to jump on a broom.
Jean, who was holding her Nimbus 2000 like it was a prized artifact, turned to Harry with curiosity. "Reserve team?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in question.
Harry's face lit up, matching the excitement of the room. "Yeah, it's for backup players in case any of the main team gets injured or can't play. It's a great opportunity for more people to get involved."
Fred and George, who had been quietly observing with a glint of mischief in their eyes, clapped their hands together with glee. "Finally, a chance to have some decent backup if one of us gets knocked out of the game!" Fred said, his grin practically glowing in the firelight.
"And maybe some fresh competition during practice," George added with a smirk, clearly already plotting their next prank.
Hermione, who was nestled in a corner with a book that seemed to be more of a prop than anything else, couldn't help but smile at the enthusiastic chatter. "Looks like you'll all be quite busy," she remarked, her tone a mix of amusement and mild exasperation.
Wood continued, his excitement palpable. "So, if you're interested in trying out, make sure you're ready next weekend. We want the best of the best for Gryffindor!"
As Wood exited, the common room erupted into animated discussions about the upcoming tryouts. Harry felt a surge of excitement, thrilled by the thought of new faces on the team and eager to see who would rise to the challenge.
Meanwhile, Hermione watched Harry with a soft smile that hinted at a deeper feeling she wasn't quite ready to confront. She'd developed a crush on Harry over the holidays, a feeling that had only grown stronger with time. And while she couldn't help but notice the undeniable chemistry between him and Jean, she was determined to be supportive, even if it stung a bit.
Harry, meanwhile, kept stealing glances at Jean, feeling that familiar flutter of nerves and excitement every time their eyes met. They were both caught in that awkward, heart-thumping stage of their friendship where feelings were intense but actions were restrained, like two players on the verge of a big game but still waiting for the whistle.
Ron, with his usual blend of laziness and fiery loyalty, leaned back with a smirk. "Well, if I'm not in the main team, at least I'll have a good excuse to miss a few classes. Tryouts should be a blast."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "You're incorrigible, Ron."
Fred and George, not missing a beat, exchanged knowing glances. "Oh, we'll make sure the tryouts are memorable," Fred said.
"Definitely," George agreed. "We'll have them singing for their places on the team."
As the room buzzed with excitement, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging. Surrounded by his friends, each with their quirks and charms, he knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. And who knew? Maybe the upcoming tryouts would bring even more surprises—both on and off the pitch.
—
As the Gryffindor common room emptied out and the night settled in, the girls' dormitory was bathed in the soft, silver glow of moonlight. Hermione and Jean were getting ready for bed, their conversation shifting from the day's events to something a bit more personal.
Jean, lying on her bed and staring up at the canopy, finally broke the silence. "Hermione, can I ask you something?"
Hermione, who had been absorbed in her book, looked up with a smile that was both curious and encouraging. "Sure, Jean. What's up?"
Jean twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers, clearly nervous. "It's about Harry. I think he might like me, and honestly, I think I like him too. But I'm not really sure what to do about it."
Hermione closed her book with a soft thud, her eyes lighting up with understanding. "Oh, I've definitely noticed the sparks flying between you two. It's like watching two stars orbiting each other. But Harry? He's kind of a disaster when it comes to realizing his own feelings."
Jean chuckled. "Tell me about it. He can be so clueless sometimes. Do you think I should just wait for him to make a move?"
Hermione shook her head vigorously. "No way. Harry's brain often forgets to switch from 'hero mode' to 'romantic mode.' He's got a lot on his plate and might not catch on unless you give him a little nudge. Why not take the plunge? With Hogsmeade weekends coming up, it could be a perfect opportunity."
Jean's eyes lit up with the kind of excitement usually reserved for discovering a hidden treasure. "Hogsmeade? That's a great idea."
Hermione's grin widened. "Absolutely. Once they announce the next Hogsmeade trip, just ask him to go with you. Trust me, he'll be over the moon."
Jean's smile grew as she imagined the possibilities. "Thanks, Hermione. I really needed that pep talk."
Hermione gave her a reassuring nod. "Anytime, Jean. And don't stress too much. I'm sure it'll work out. Just be yourself, and things will fall into place."
As they settled into their beds, Jean felt a burst of confidence and excitement. The idea of asking Harry out on a Hogsmeade trip seemed not just feasible but thrilling. She couldn't wait for the announcement and knew exactly how she'd make her move. Meanwhile, Hermione lay in her bed, her thoughts drifting back to Harry. She could see the chemistry between him and Jean and felt a pang of something she wasn't quite ready to label. For now, she pushed her own feelings aside and focused on being the supportive friend Jean needed.
With the moonlight casting gentle shadows, the two friends drifted off to sleep, both with their own swirling thoughts about the future and the delicate dance of young love.
---
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