Give me ___!!!

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE
_{I DON'T NEED IT, BUT I'LL TAKE WHAT I WANT FROM YOUR HEART
G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E}

Ah, the joy of free periods. Of course, they weren’t supposed to be used for just wandering around the castle. No, they were meant to be used to study for his classes; to help him catch up on his Homework that he would surely be overwhelmed with by the time Christmas break came around. Of course, the semester was still only just starting, so he had a while to worry about Homework. In fact, Harry wouldn’t worry about his homework until he was up to his scar in it and struggling. It was usually around that time that Hermione made charts for him and Ron to help them get organized and pull themselves together. He was positive that if he actually tried, he wouldn’t have to struggle. But he just didn’t have the energy to worry about his homework. Harry was smart… just not intellectually motivated. That would be Hermione.

A small yawn escaped Harry as he made his way down the stairs; only to enter the Entrance Hall. Sitting on the steps, he took the moment of silence and solitude to write a letter. It was a letter no one was going to read. In fact, he had planned on shoving it into the corners of his Trunk back in his Dormitory and never looking at it again. Just like with the other ill-assorted letters he had written. It wasn’t like it mattered. The receivee was deceased. Now, the letter’s only brought him comfort.

After about fifteen minutes, he neatly cleaned up his mess; careful not to drip any ink spots. He didn’t fancy having Filch coming after him all day. Once his Quill and ink was away, he looked at the note, rereading it again. His eyes were drawn to the last paragraph where he admitted his feelings for a certain red-haired young witch. Harry found it funny really. All those years ago, Ginny had always been after his affection. Now that she had moved on, Harry was after hers. But a relationship with Ginny was something he wasn’t allowed… wouldn’t allow himself; no matter how much he desired it.

If he were to start courting Ginny, Voldemort would surely catch wind. He would feel Harry’s emotions towards the younger girl, and use her against him. No, it was safer for all involved if he didn’t act on his feelings for her. As long as she was happy… As long as she continued to smile; he would be happy with that. Folding the letter up, he put it in his pocket before standing and stretching slightly; unaware of the approaching figure.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL open AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 433 WORDS IN THIS POST SO THAT SHOULD BE GOOD. LIKE THIS SONG TOO? IT'S NA NA NA BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE. OH! BEFORE I FORGET, I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT this is really crappy, sorry. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0.}

[Claude Laroche]

Without a doubt, Claude knew she was late beyond belief. That morning she hadn't woken up and with her curtains spelled to keep everyone out of her bed, no one had had the chance to wake her as well. By the time she had finally opened her eyes to see the harsh sunlight filter through the cracks of the deep blue cloth, it had been to late for her to join her morning classes. She groaned in annoyance as she pulled herself out of the warm covers and gotten herself ready for not only the day but the scolding she was bound to receive.

After she was showered and dressed, her long hair had been charmed dry and was thrown into a high ponytail that caused the tips of her reddish brown hair to tickle the cotton fabric of her school shirt just below her shoulders. Then she had grabbed her schedule and black messenger bag and left the Ravenclaw dorms to make her way to the Great Hall so that she could indulge in some brunch.

Claude couldn't help but admit that her life since she had come to Hogwarts was lonely and sometimes so boring that she found herself in the library reading nothing but past editions of the Daily Prophet. Sure, she could write to her family or friends, but she knew that if she did the homesickness would set in even more so than it was now.

I really should study, the girl thought as she walked the corridors and ever changing stairways. And get an alarm for that matter. Oh I wish I was back at Beauxbatons! At least O.W.L.S aren't until 6th year there. Darn it Daddy! Why did you take that transfer?

Lost in her thoughts, Claude relied on muscle memory to get her to where she wanted to go. What she forgot was that she always took the long way to the Great Hall, the way that passed through the Entrance Hall. What's more is that she didn't see the boy sitting on the steps until her messenger bag, full of books and scrolls, smacked him in the face.

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE
_{I DON'T NEED IT, BUT I'LL TAKE WHAT I WANT FROM YOUR HEART
G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E}

After stretching, he turned his neck, cracking it and removing the kinks that seemed to be a growing problem. He placed his hands on his back and pushed while he leaned back, feeling his spine crack several times. Now that he felt all nice and relaxed, he sat back down on the steps, digging around in his bag to consult his schedule once more. He wasn’t used to having so much free time on his hands… thus he wasn’t able to keep track for how long each of them were. But he knew one thing; they seemed to last less than the actual classes. Probably because he spent most of them sleeping, due to his trouble sleeping at night.

Of course, no one knew of his sleeping problem. He had learned his lesson last year, and had placed a silencing charm around his bed; so that when the currents were closed no one could hear him. How many nights had he been awake by Ron shaking him the previous year? It had been bad enough to have the whole Wizarding world (or at least most of it) thinking him a liar… but to keep his Best Mate up because he was having Nightmares? He knew he was putting his friends through a lot last year, and he still felt immensely guilty for it. So he had sworn to himself that he wasn’t going to do the same thing this year.

Of course, the dreams last year had been about Cedric dying, or whatever Voldemort was seeing at the present time… This time around, the dreams were about Sirius dying. About seeing his friends dead because he, Harry, was too weak to protect them. He had woken up sick a number of times, barely conjuring a bucket in time for him to empty the contents of his stomach. He would then lie awake for a few more hours before falling back into a troubled sleep. No, it was best not to let Ron know about it. Or Hermione. If Ron found out, all Harry would have to do was tell him to drop it. Hermione was another story; she would push him… And Harry didn’t trust his temper at the moment. He didn’t trust anything about himself.

Finding his schedule, he saw that he was free until after Lunch. Maybe he’d have a big lunch before heading to class. It looked like he had Transfiguration after Lunch, and he still needed to finish reading that chapter that was for Homework. As he made to stand, he heard someone approaching from behind. Turning (not liking the idea of someone behind him) he was immediately introduced with a rock hard school bag, knocking him back down the steps, his glasses cracking. “Bloody hell! What’s in that bag?” he asked, hands over his nose, feeling the blood covering his hand.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL Claude AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 476 WORDS IN THIS POST SO THAT SHOULD BE GOOD. LIKE THIS SONG TOO? IT'S NA NA NA BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE. OH! BEFORE I FORGET, I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT this is really crappy, sorry. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0.}

[Claude Laroche]

The sudden force of her messenger bag colliding with the only other human present caused Claude to trip and tumble down the short set of steps, her bag’s contents falling out and scattering themselves across the stone floor.

“Bloody hell! What’s in that bag?”

The petite girl’s head whipped around to see a boy with rowdy black hair and cracked glasses holding his nose, blood seeping out from the cracks between his fingers. Her honey brown eyes widened before scrambling over to him on her knees to access the damage that she had probably caused.

“Ah! Excusez-moi! Je suis vraiment désolé.” She rambled out in her native French as she practically sat on the boy’s lap to see the bleeding nose. She practically ripped the boy’s hand away, her own fingers replacing it to feel the cartalige. Sighing in relief, she pulled her wand out of her sleeve, aimed it, then ‘reparo’-ed the damage away. Fingers went back to confirm that the boy’s nose was healed before her wand was pointed once more to clean away the drying blood.

Claude wrapped her arms around the boy, hugging him tightly. “Sorry!” She said in with a thick French accent. “I did not mean harm! I am late for class and not pay attention.” She felt absolutely horrible that she had caused more problems within her first month of being a transfer student. The way things were going, Ravenclaw would be losing house points just because of her and that wasn’t what she wanted in the least. She honestly wanted to make friends with her fellow students, she wanted to be a part of Hogwarts life, and she didn’t want to be known as a clumsy twit who was only good at sneaking around the castle at night and reading books.

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE
_{I DON'T NEED IT, BUT I'LL TAKE WHAT I WANT FROM YOUR HEART
G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E}

If he hadn’t been worried about getting blood all over the girl, he would have reached out to grab her before she fell. But as it stood, he was still in a bit of shock from the hit. He blinked, looking around at the books that fell out of her bag, ignoring the blood that was seeping through the cracks of his fingers and onto his robes. Harry was no stranger to blood, especially his own. His eyes widened slightly at the books. Dear Merlin! No wonder if felt like his nose had been hit with a brick.

“Ah! Excusez-moi! Je suis vraiment désolé.”

He jumped slightly as she crawled over to him, practically sitting on his lap. He watched her in amazement, to stunned to do anything as she ripped his hand away from his nose, effectively covering her own hands in his blood, which was now starting to cover parts of his chin. “What are you- Ow!” he said, instinctively moving back when she felt his nose. That hurt! He blinked, watching as she pulled out her wand. He was about to ask what she was going to do when, as it was pointed at him, his nose mended itself. He’d had his nose mended early in the year by Luna Lovegood… It hurt just the same as it did then. Making a slight noise in discomfort, he was about to feel his nose when she once again beat him to it.

He stared at her like he had never seen anything quite like her, not used to be mothered like that. In all honesty, if she would have just continued on her way, he would have felt more comfortable… And this was probably shown as he tensed when she threw her arms around him, hugging him. He looked around the hall slightly, almost wishing for someone to appear to do… SOMETHING. But no one did. Tentatively, he patted her on the back slightly with his blood free hand.

“Umm… It’s okay. Really. I’m used to getting injured… a broken nose is actually one of my lesser injuries.” He said to her, noting the thick accent. He was instantly reminded of Fleur. “Um, who are you? I’ve never seen you before… and you’re accent is different from England’s…” he said, looking at her, still slightly uncomfortable with the way her arms were around him. He was NOT used to hugs. Hermione hugged him all the time and he was still getting used to them. The only time Harry himself really gave Hugs was when he was extremely happy. But even then, they felt weird to him. He supposed it was due to a life absent of any affection besides loathing and abuse until he’d turned eleven.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL Claude AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 458 WORDS IN THIS POST SO THAT SHOULD BE GOOD. LIKE THIS SONG TOO? IT'S NA NA NA BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE. OH! BEFORE I FORGET, I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT NOTES HERE. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0.}

[Claude Laroche]

Claude felt the boy’s body tense under her and finally let her arms slide away from her hug, his hand still patting her back awkwardly. Now that she had a proper view of his face, she noticed that his glasses were also cracked down the right lens. Wand raised once more, she quickly fixed the break so that he could see properly.

“Umm… It’s okay. Really. I’m used to getting injured… a broken nose is actually one of my lesser injuries. Um, who are you? I’ve never seen you before… and you’re accent is different from England’s…”

“Ah! Sorry!” She said once more. “I am Claude Laroche. I am fifth year Ravenclaw, but transfer student from Beauxbaton Acadamy of Magic.” She explained as she looked over the boy’s features. His rowdy hair covered his forehead enough to draw attention to the bright green eyes hidden behind the round glasses. His newly fixed nose was, in her opinion, quite cute, where as his lips were thin, the bottom one a bit fuller than the top. All in all, Claude found her newest acquaintance to be quite the looker.

Until then, Claude hadn’t really noticed that her legs were straddling the boy’s hips or that she was basically sitting on him in a suggestive manner. A blush rushed to heat her cheeks, her freckles darkening their way into visible existence. She shot out of the boy’s lap and scooted a few feet away from him, her hands tugging her evil wool skirt lower to cover her knees, legs pressed together. She adverted her eyes from the boy, convinced that if she looked at him she would see the product of her unconscious wanton behaviour.

After a moment, her hands relaxed enough so that the white of her knuckles went back to their healthy pink and her fingers unwound themselves from her skirt. Her blush was still running ramped on her face, but there was nothing short of dunking her head into ice water that would get rid of it at that moment. She picked up her fallen wand and placed it back into the sleeve of her shirt before picking up the courage to look at the boy once more.

“Sorry,” she squeaked out once more.

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE
_{I DON'T NEED IT, BUT I'LL TAKE WHAT I WANT FROM YOUR HEART
G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E}

Harry relaxed slightly as she stopped hugging him. Okay, now he was on more comfortable ground so to speak; minus the part she was still straddling him (which he was trying his damnedness to ignore). He blinked, his head shooting up slightly as she fixed his glasses, his emerald green eyes going slightly cross eyed to look at the mended lens. “Err, thanks.” He said to her.

“Ah! Sorry! I am Claude Laroche. I am fifth year Ravenclaw, but transfer student from Beauxbaton Academy of Magic.”

He nodded his head slightly. “Beauxbaton? I know someone who went there! Fleur Delacour. I believe she mentioned her sister was starting soon.” He said. Now that she wasn’t hugging him, it was easier for him to get a better look at her. And he had to admit, she was very pretty indeed. She had nice brown eyes, and a reddish brown hair coloring that complimented her complexion nicely. He was also able to see the small constellation of freckles across her nose. And while he wasn’t an expert on kissing (he had only ever kissed Cho Chang, and she had cried the entire time) he thought her lips would have been perfect for doing such.

And then it seemed that she was fully aware of the position they were in. And Harry was glad for it too. He was only thanking whatever God was listening to him that through the whole ordeal, he’d been too shocked to actually have had any reaction to their position. And it seemed his body and its raging hormones had agreed to that as well. Giving her a moment to try and regain herself, he stood up, dusting himself off and running a hand through his hair, causing part of his bangs to stand on end slightly before picking up the books that had flown from her bag. Cradling the books in one arm, he reached out his right hand to help her up.

“You’re fine. Really. I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t be sitting on the steps like that.” He said to her, smiling lightly. “I’m Harry by the way. Harry Potter.” He said.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL Claude AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 360 WORDS IN THIS POST SO THAT SHOULD BE GOOD. LIKE THIS SONG TOO? IT'S NA NA NA BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE. OH! BEFORE I FORGET, I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT it's short, sorry. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0.}

[/quote]

[Claude Laroche]

The petite girl was grateful that the boy hadn’t mentioned their earlier position and was now helping her shove the heavy books and papers back into the traitorous bag that had ultimately lead to their meeting. When she heard the name of the French participant of the latest Triwizard Tournament, a smile broke out onto her face and her blush faded away.

“Beauxbaton? I know someone who went there! Fleur Delacour. I believe she mentioned her sister was starting soon.”

“Oui. Fleur is graduate now. I hear much good things about her et her sister is second year now.” Claude reported with pride in her voice. She had wanted to go to the tournament when she was younger, but because of her age and lack of connection to the elder students, she hadn’t been allowed to tag along. Remembering how she had tried to use her father’s position as a reason to attend the event, that hadn’t made Madame Maxime budge an inch, she remembered the shame of both rejection and greed. She had gotten over the most of it in the past two years so the emotions didn’t stay on her face for longer than a few seconds.

She watched as the boy ran his hand through his hair, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. There was a small mark there, barely visible from her spot on the floor but it drew her curiosity like a moth to the flame. She unconsciously took the hand offered to her and stood, her eyes fixated on his forehead and the mark that grew larger and darker as she neared. A lightning bolt shaped scar.

“I’m Harry by the way. Harry Potter.”

Her eyes grew wide as her brain clicked into the truth from both the boring articles of the Daily Prophet and facts that Fleur Delacour and her entourage had boasted about after their return from Hogwarts. Now it was confirmed. The boy she had given a semi broken bloody nose to, who she had straddled so inappropriately and hugged, the boy she was now sort of holding hands with, was Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived.

To place further confirmation and also to wrap her head around the idea that she was in fact in the presence of the boy that had been deemed both a liar and the world’s saving grace, she whispered the name with both reverence and disbelief.

“Harry Potter...”

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE
_{I DON'T NEED IT, BUT I'LL TAKE WHAT I WANT FROM YOUR HEART
G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E}

His smile widened as she became excited, clearly happy about his ignoring their earlier positions and mentioning someone they both knew. He was happy that he could make her happy. Although to be honest, he really didn’t expect her to get that excited. But whatever worked! He wasn’t going to complain. A happy girl was better than a sad or miserable one. Harry couldn’t handle tears; they kind of frightened him a bit.

Of course, Remembering Fleur also meant remembering the Tri-Wizard Tournament…. This meant Remembering Cedric Diggory. Something he really tried not to do, for the death of his Classmate was still a sore topic for the young man. He still hadn’t really forgiven the Wizarding world for overlooking Cedric’s death for the last year as some type of Tragic Accident. He was just glad that the Representatives from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton had believed him. The more they had united on their side the better. But of course, now he was a hero to the Wizarding community was again. To be honest, Harry liked it when they thought him nutters.

As she took his hand, he noted how her eyes were trained above his own. It was only too easy for him to actually guess what she was so transfixed by. How many stares did he get to his forehead? And while he was used to it, he still found it a bit annoying. Honestly, he wanted to know what was so fascinating about his scar anyways. He didn’t like being reminded that he was a walking miracle. It was only another reminder of the Prophecy that Voldemort had been so desperate to have his hands.

… And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…

He was broken out of his thoughts by hearing her repeat his name, almost as if she couldn’t believe who he was… as if he would be lying about his identity. Finally feeling to uncomfortable with her staring at his scar, he reached up with his left hand and subtly covered his scar again by running his hand through his hair and flattening it this time instead of making it untidy. “Err… yeah. Pleased to meet you.” He said. And then to get the attention away from him and his scar he added, “You’re English is very good by the way.”

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL Claude AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 399 WORDS IN THIS POST SO THAT SHOULD BE GOOD. LIKE THIS SONG TOO? IT'S NA NA NA BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE. OH! BEFORE I FORGET, I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT it's short, sorry. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0.}

[Claude Laroche]

His hand reached up and pulled his bangs back down to cover the scar that she was staring at. Knowing that he knew what she was doing, she cast her eyes downward before separating their hands. The boy really was Harry Potter and she could feel the waves of discomfort rolling off him. Claude remembered how just a few moments ago the boy had acted like nothing had happened between them after falling down the stairs, so, she decided, she would overlook the rumours and articles pertaining to the boy in front of her and get to know the truth of him for herself.

“I am sorry,” she found herself apologizing again. “I did not mean to stare. I hear so much about you, it is almost all not real. I see you now and I am acting like a not good reporter. I can get to know you for you?” She reached out for the books that lay in Harry’s arms not only to stash them away in her bag, but to show that she didn’t mean to offend him. “Merci, et my English needs much work. I only speak much for one year.”

Since she had been raised in France and hadn’t left the country until now, she not only was learning English when she could, but only knew what the papers had said about the war that was brewing within the wizarding world of England. France had been affected but not nearly as much as she believed England had. Moving, even though Claude had disagreed with it, did have its perks. During the short months she had been within England and Hogwart’s walls, she could see the damage done to both the economy and the people. Harry, she knew, had been in the spotlight since he had turned eleven years old and from everything that had happened to him, well the recorded things anyways, he had probably been forced to leave childhood a long time ago. She, on the other hand, had lived a fairly sheltered life and didn’t have much to fear the consequences to her actions. Even if she was 16 and almost a year ahead of the maturity of her fellow fifth years at Beauxbatons, she had a feeling that if she were to make friends within her year here, they would be the same, if not more mature, as her.

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE
_{I DON'T NEED IT, BUT I'LL TAKE WHAT I WANT FROM YOUR HEART
G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E}

He let their hands fall apart as she casted her eyes away from his scar at last. She was… something else that was for sure. Most of the people he met, or rather who met him had no problem staring openly at his scar, as if he were some show piece on display. He had to admit… he liked the change. Maybe it was just the people of England… Maybe it was because they suffered more than any other country in Europe that he meant that much more to them; thus they stared more intensely and without shame. He was still learning things every day about The First War; he wasn’t sure how far Voldemort’s terror spread, if it had reached France at all. All he knew is what the Adult’s told him, and they didn’t like talking about it much.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to stare. I hear so much about you, it is almost all not real. I see you now and I am acting like a not good reporter. I can get to know you for you?”

He smiled lightly at her, shaking his head again. “No, it’s fine. Really, I’m used to people staring.” He said. Even though her English was pretty good compared to the other Beauxbaton students he met, it was still slightly difficult to understand her, but he managed to figure out what she was saying none the less. “Sure. I have no problem with you getting to know me.” He said to her. Seeing her reaching out for her books only reminded him that he was still holding a few of them.

“Oh, sorry.” He said, handing them over to her. He listened to her as she told him she had only been learning for a year. He smiled lightly at her. “Well, for just one year, you’ve learned a great deal. If you want… I can help teach you. Mind you, I’m not much of a teacher… But this way, you can learn English, and you can get to know me better. The Prophet’s not exactly an honest paper.” He said his voice slightly bitter towards the end.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL Claude AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 360 WORDS IN THIS POST SO THAT SHOULD BE GOOD. LIKE THIS SONG TOO? IT'S NA NA NA BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE. OH! BEFORE I FORGET, I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT it's short, sorry. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0.}

[Claude Laroche]

“If you want... I can help teach you. Mind you, I’m not much of a teacher... But this way, you can learn English, and you can get to know me better. The Prophet’s not exactly an honest paper.”

At the offer to not only learn more about the famous boy as a person but to improve her language skills, the Ravenclaw student’s eyes lit up like the rising sun did to the sky. Forgetting to keep her distance, she hugged Harry again, squashing her books between them, a silly grin on her face.

“Oh merci, merci!” She turned her head and pressed her lips against the boy’s cheek to show her full appreciation of his offer. “I love to learn from you! I only learn English from mon père et mon mere. Mon père is very good, but I do not understand well.” she admitted sheepishly before unwinding her arms from her new friend and taking the heavy text into her own arms. She bent down and packed them into her messenger bag before hoisting it back into place on her shoulder, her body barely noticing the weight against her side.

“Daily Prophet is not a good newspaper. I only read when I am bored. Fretilles Langue is also not so good, but it is media et everywhere.” Claude commented, mentioning France’s main wizarding newspaper too. She shrugged then remembering that Hogwarts actually had different houses for different personalities, and one of those houses fit perfectly with the gossiping and manipulative papers. “That is why Slytherin exist, no?” she somewhat asked. She may have read Hogwarts: A History, but from what she had read versus what she had seen of the Snake house, the ability to manipulate anything and everything was right up their alley and a requirement to join their ranks.

Her stomach rumbled and her hand automatically went to cover the area to lessen the sound. She remembered her original reason for being in the Entrance hall as only a route to scarf down some breakfast before running around apologizing to professors for missing their classes, gathering missed homework, and finally attending her afternoon courses. She looked back up to Harry, her hand not leaving her abdomen for fear of her stomach giving off more noises.

“Harry, why you down here anyways? I do not think you sleep in like me this morning.” she asked as her fingers dug into her cloth covered skin to keep the small noises at bay. Unfortunately just as she was tightening her fingers, another loud rumble came from her. She dropped her hand, knowing that holding back the noises was now a lost cause. “Please let food still be served. I am hungry.”

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE
_{I DON'T NEED IT, BUT I'LL TAKE WHAT I WANT FROM YOUR HEART
G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E}

He was happy to see that his offer, both of them, seemed to have made her day. What he wasn’t counting on was her hugging him again. He took a slight step back in surprise, his emerald green eyes widening behind his thin, round rimmed glasses. His free hand instinctively came up to plant itself firmly on her waist as he looked down at her. A slight huff escaping him as her books were smashed between him, effectively knocking the wind from his lungs. Apparently in France, there was no such thing as Personal Space. He vividly remembered Fleur flinging her arms around him when he ‘saved’ her younger sister Gabriella. And if he remembered when the French were exceptionally grateful they…

Yup, he had remembered correctly. He wasn’t aware his eyes were able to go any wider than what they had when she threw her arms around him. But they did, and the spot where her lips and been on his cheek seemed to burn pleasantly; causing a blush to color his cheeks and run down his neck slightly. He blinked looking at her, not understanding a few of the words she was saying, but getting the jest of it anyways. Whatever she was learning from, she wasn’t learning much. Maybe they could make it a learning experience for the both of them… Maybe he could learn French…

He shrugged his shoulders slightly. “The Prophet has its moments. But they’re job is to get reviews and ratings, even if it means telling lies. But yes, that’s media everywhere.” He said; his head nodding in agreement. He was finding it rather easy to talk with her, despite the language barrier that was between them. He laughed slightly at her question. “Slytherin’s exist because of one of the Founding Father’s of Hogwarts. It wasn’t so much that he lied and manipulated everyone or thing but that he… was selective in his choosing. But yes, those are qualities that he looked for…” he said. Qualities that I have, that would have made me perfect for Slytherin, he thought silently to himself. But he wasn’t about to say that… He had only ever told Dumbledore about his fear of actually belonging in Slytherin, and the Headmaster had dissolved those fears. It is are Choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.

When he heard a stomach growling, he first thought it was him, until he saw her hand move to her middle, as if trying to stop the sound from being heard. However, she didn’t address that, but rather why he, Harry, had been down here in the first place. “Oh, I have a free period now. My next class isn’t until after lunch.” He said to her. He pointed over his shoulders back towards the Great Hall. “I was actually just about to go get some lunch when err…. We met.” He said, smiling lightly at her. And chuckled slightly, hearing her stomach growling as she seemingly gave up on hiding it. He was about to open his mouth to explain when a deep, low grumble came from his own stomach, causing him to shut his mouth. “Shall we go get something to eat?” he asked her, picking up his bag and shouldering it with ease. Granted, he had nowhere near as many books as she did, but he still had quite a few books, being that he was now an N.E.W.T. student and was on his last stretch of his education.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL Claude AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 585 WORDS IN THIS POST SO THAT SHOULD BE GOOD. LIKE THIS SONG TOO? IT'S NA NA NA BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE. OH! BEFORE I FORGET, I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT NOTES HERE. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0.}

[Claude Laroche]

Claude nodded to Harry’s explanation of his absence from a classroom, not that she wouldn’t have mentioned the advantages of actually attending class instead of skipping it if that were the case. Her smile widened once more as she heard the boy’s own stomach admit a loud grumble to compliment her own stream of them.

“Food is served still? It is not yet lunch period,” the French girl pointed out as she took her new friend’s free arm and walked, more like dragged, him along beside her to the Great Hall. Regardless as to if food was actually going to be served or not when they arrived, Claude was animated about quieting her body’s screams for nourishment. Then another she happened to remember another fact about Harry. She turned her face up to him as her steps slowed to a stop, free arm still holding his own. “Harry, you are in Gryffindor, no? Does that mean I cannot eat avec you?” She asked, a hint of sadness in her accented voice.

She was a shy girl by nature, the fact that she was so outgoing right now was because of the fact that the ice had been broken between the two teenagers the minute her bag had connected with his nose. Within her own house, she only knew the names of her roommates and prefects, and even then it was difficult to really talk to them. Not only the language barrier and her natural shyness prohibited her from expressing herself fully to her housemates, but also because this was her fifth year and all the people within her year had their cliques. They had been together since they were eleven years old and from what Claude had seen from the outside, were tightly knit and knew how to work together. Sure they were friendly and courteous, but it only went so far. Once comfort she did have within her house was the knowledge that even if all she had were acquaintances, they would be willing to help her with anything school work related. That, in itself, was one gift that she wouldn’t give up for the world.

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE, GIVE ME LOVE
_{I DON'T NEED IT, BUT I'LL TAKE WHAT I WANT FROM YOUR HEART
G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E G I M M E M O R E}

Harry knew his presence made a lot of people’s day. But for this young lady, it seemed that he not only made her day, but that so far he was her day. And she got happy about the weirdest of things as well. The instant his stomach growled to accompany her own, her face split into an even bigger smile. This was new to Harry, who was used to getting yelled at if his stomach growled at all during the day, regardless of the last time he had. He could easily remember long punishments where he’d been locked away in his Cupboard, and the only company he had had was his Aunt and Uncle coming to rap on his door; yelling at him for the excessive noise his stomach made. Of course, as he got older, he learned to unlock the sliding lock from inside his cupboard. However it was a long process of which he had to use a thin piece of string to try and work the lock. Most of the time, the string was to flimsy and protect, sending Harry on a search to find another…

He was brought back to reality by another growl from his stomach, his hand moving to rest onto his abdomen. He looked up as she asked him if food was still being served, even though it wasn’t lunch yet. However, before he could even open his mouth, she had intertwined their arms and all but dragged him down towards the Great Hall. He stumbled slightly in an attempt to get his footing, and had only just got it when she stopped, suddenly turning to look at him. He blinked, looking at her. “Avec? … You mean to eat with me?” he asked her. He nodded his head. “Yeah you can… Most of the kids only eat that the table with their Houses at Dinner time or at feasts. Then it’s sort of a golden rule really.” he said.

He shouldered his bag again, it had fallen off when she was dragging him, and motioned with his head towards the door and walking in. He was extremely aware of the fact that she still held his arm in her own, but tried to pay it no mind. There were already a few students in the Great Hall; some either already eating, or doing homework and studying. As was seemed to be tradition whenever he walked into a room, all the heads stopped to turn and stare at him. However he ignored them, leading Claude over to the Gryffindor table, and sitting about halfway down the table where there was a nice big open spot. Golden plates appeared on the table, and were soon covered in food, some of it still holding breakfast foods, while others had changed for lunch. “Help yourself.” he said, grabbing some toast, eggs, and lettuce and proceeded to make an egg sandwich.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL Claude AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 484 WORDS IN THIS POST SO THAT SHOULD BE GOOD. LIKE THIS SONG TOO? IT'S NA NA NA BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE. OH! BEFORE I FORGET, I WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT NOTES HERE. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0.}

[/quote]