Harry Potter: The Blogger of Hogwarts

Our heist plans, however, sort of fell to the wayside over the next few days, because Hermione's first game of Quidditch was approaching and Marcus Flint, Slytherin team captain, was a harsh taskmaster obsessed with training. He was also kind of an idiot and a vicious arsehole. But, to be fair to him, he was like that to everyone, regardless of blood status. Say what you like about Flint, though, while he's a horrible person, he wins games. And I wasn't about to get in the way of Slytherin achieving a glorious victory. Well, more to the point, Hermione achieving a glorious victory.

Ron was over with the Gryffindors when the game started. Since his brothers were on the Gryffindor team and Hermione on the Slytherin team, Ron had freaked out about who to root for. Eventually, I brokered a compromise: Ron would alternate between the teams each time Slytherin and Gryffindor played each other. So I was alone and nearly jumped out of my skin when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hello there, Harry, old chap!" a jovial and very posh male voice said. "I'm Dr. Emmet Granger and this is my wife Danielle. A pleasure to meet you."

I turned around slowly to see Hermione's parents giving me wide smiles. True to their profession, their teeth were quite impressive. They were almost stereotypically British in their demeanor and clothing, almost as if they were compensating for something, and I had the strangest feeling I'd seen them before, but I couldn't quite place them. They were both wearing large medallions inscribed with ruins which were glowing, emitting the enchantment which allowed them to see Hogwarts.

"Oh, hi!" I said. "Hermione talks a lot about you. I'm Harry Potter. You probably know that already, though." I gave a nervous laugh. For some strange reason, I was finding the two of them very intimidating. "Hermione's been doing great at school! Great grades, great hair, great everything!" Why couldn't I stop talking?!

Hermione's mum gave a laugh. "Oh, Harry, you're so funny, just like Hermione says in her letters."

"She talks about me, ma'am?" I asked eagerly.

Hermione's mum and dad gave a knowing glance. What was up with that? "Oh, very much so," Emmet said. "And please do call us by our first names. We're not too formal in our house." This very much went against the fact they were dressed as if they were ready to meet with the king, but, hey, that worked for me.

I'm embarrassed to say I missed a lot of the Quidditch game. Apparently, Quidditch isn't good for my focus. But I did get a lot of dirt from the Drs. Granger about Hermione's childhood (which she'd kill me if I told you, so you're not going to get it) and I really think I made a good impression on them. It was important for me to make a good impression on them for some reason.

But HERMIONE CAUGHT THE SNITCH!

SLYTHERIN WON!

And it's all thanks to our resident bookworm! My dad would probably be rolling in his grave right now, but I don't care. We did it. Slytherin had a moment of triumph and Hermione was able to prove Muggleborns could do just as well as purebloods and Hermione's parents like me and everything is wonderful.

....

It's been a few weeks since the Quidditch match and we've been furiously preparing to steal…er, borrow the Philosopher's Stone. We don't know what to expect beyond the Cerberus, but we've been preparing for the worst. Hermione's wonderful parents sent her a taser (apparently, it's very useful in stopping unruly patients from running away) and a harpoon gun and honestly aren't the Grangers just the coolest?! Percy, of all people, decided he would give us an alibi, which was absolutely perfect, because everyone thinks he hates Ron, so who would suspect him of covering for us? No one, that's who!

Finally, the time came. It was the weekend and several feet of snow had been dumped onto Hogwarts, so practically everyone would be outside playing in it. Which meant the teachers would also be there to look after them, including O'Neill. Hogwarts was practically deserted, which served our purposes just fine.

"You ready to do this?" I asked Hermione and Ron as we stood outside the door to the forbidden room.

"No!" Ron shouted. "This is the stupidest idea we've ever had!"

I nodded solemnly at him. "Thank you for the support, Ron."

"Look, if you're going to do this incredibly dumb thing, I've got to be with you so you don't get killed," Hermione said. "Or, worse, expelled."

The three of us charged into the room as I started singing my favorite song. "I threw a wish in the well!" I shouted as I played the instrumental version of Call Me Maybe from my mobile. "Don't ask me, I'll never tell. I looked to you as it fell and now you're in my way." I cast a glance at Hermione, who looked like a deer in the headlights.

I grabbed her hand to reassure her there was no problem – I didn't care if she had a bad singing voice – and she let out a squeak. "I trade my soul for a wish, pennies and dimes for a kiss." She looked at my face and took a step forward, then quickly stepped back. "I wasn't looking for this, but now you're in my way."

"Come on, Hermione, sing!" I begged her. "Your stare was holding, ripped jeans, skin was showing, hot night wind was blowing!"

"I really shouldn't be here," Hermione said and started to back away to the door. "This was a stupid idea."

I winked at her. "Where you think you're going, baby?"

Hermione took a deep breath and then she started dancing! And she was good at it! "Hey, I just met you and this is crazy!"

"But here's my number!"

"So call me maybe!"

Ron looked between the two of us as if we'd lost our minds. I grabbed Hermione's hands and pulled her close, giving her a wide smile. "It's hard to look right at you, baby!"

"But here's my number, so call me maybe!"

Ron cleared his throat. "Uh, guys, I think the dog's asleep?"

It seemed like an eternity before I felt as if I could let go of Hermione, and I only did it reluctantly. Something had happened during our little song and dance number, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what. It was probably something that needed to be addressed later, I decided. Right now, we had a Philosopher's Stone to steal – borrow – and I couldn't waste time wondering why my heart was thundering in a way it never had before.

.....

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