Give me ___!!!

[Claude Laroche]

Claude nodded as Harry translated her slip up. “Oui, with. It is nice to know that I can sit with others.” She said as she was lead over to an unoccupied section of the Gryffindor table. She placed her messenger bag on the floor before crawling over the bench seat and marvelling at the food that appeared. She should have been used to the event after five years of witnessing it, but she couldn’t keep her smile off her face. Maybe it was because she had met someone new or was sitting at a different table, but her eyes sparkled at the magic.

When she was a girl she had believed that magic existed even before she had hid away in her father’s study only to have the truth revealed to her unknowingly. Claude remembered how her brother had waited in secret, outwardly acting like he didn’t care, for some sign that he was also special and would be trained as a wizard. His eleventh birthday had come and gone, depression setting into his personality. She hadn’t seen the brother of her youth until he had left for college. Stephane had come home for Christmas holidays, a bright smile on his face and Justine on his arm. When the small family questioned him about the sudden and welcomed change, he had only replied that he had found his magic.

Unlike her brother, Claude had inherited her father’s magical blood and had received her letter of acceptance to Beauxbatons. She had been prepared, but that didn’t matter once the girl had found out that unicorns, Pegasus, dragons, and mermaids were all real creatures; that food could appear magically and all sorts of other wonderful things. She giggled at the memory of all her childhood dreams coming true. She hoped she would never get used to magic just to keep the joy inside of her.

Examining the food, she reached out and started to load her plate with a leafy salad, scrambled eggs, sausage, and buttered toast. Sinking her fork into some of the eggs, she placed them in her mouth and moaned her appreciation for the delicious food.

“I do not think I will cook this good.” she admitted once her mouth was empty.

[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}

It was like watching a five year old on their birthday; as family and friends handed the small child present upon present, wishing many the child many years of ice cream, cake, and sweets. That was the impression he got while he watched Claude as the food magically appeared on the plates, seemingly phasing up through the wooden table. As he took a bite out of his egg sandwich, he thought of the house elf Dobby. He'd have to go pay the small elf a visit; perhaps even give him a present. He vaguely remembered the House Elf telling him that socks were particularly his favorites.

Harry could easily remember the first time he had been told he was a wizard. He had denied it at first, thinking there had been some type of mistake. Because if he'd been a real wizard, he wouldn't have had to suffer through the abuse and neglect handed to him by his Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin. However it had been Hagrid who had made him believe; who showed him that, although he hadn't realized he had, he'd been getting his revenge on the Dursley's. So it had been with that knowledge that Harry had set out to unknowingly fullfill his destiny. He had wandered so many times what would have happened if he hadn't accepted Hagrid's offer... if he had remained with the Dursley's all those years ago. Would they treat him any different? Would they have allowed him to keep the bedroom he had now? Or would they have shoved him back into his cupboard under the stairs?

He was brought out of his musings by Claude speaking to him again; her voice thick with her french accent. He smiled slightly, swallowing the large bite he had taken previously. "The food here is Excellent! Although, I personally enjoy my friend Ron's Mum's cooking. Mind you, there's only one of her, and about a couple hundred House Elves here. She normally sends some fudge for the holidays or if she feels we need fattening up. I'll let you try some next time she sends me some." he said to her. Harry loved to share almost everything he owed with others. He had grown up having nothing of his own, and he knew how it felt. So when he had realized he had a small fortune hidden under ground; he was only to happy to share it with his friends.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL open AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 405 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 French girl smiled at Harry and his generosity, seeing as how her mouth was now full of the heavenly food. When her mouth was finally cleared, she couldn’t just swallow without savouring the taste, she leaned over and gave her friend a quick hug.

“Merci! I will love to try!” She said before pulling out of the brief hug.

Her family also had sent her Christmas gifts since she started wizarding school, but rarely was it food. Her packages usually consisted of dense novels or original muggle fairytales, as well as a small trinket that she would use to brighten her living space. Just last year, Claude had received a small glass dragon that sat on top of a music box. It wasn’t the item that made her so happy about it though, it was the song that played while the dragon came to life and danced; the same lullaby that her mother had sung to her children just before they closed their eyes and drifted to the land of dreams. The girl couldn’t help but wonder what gift she would receive this year, or, for that matter, what she would send them.

She groaned as she realized just how close it was to becoming the said holiday. “Ah, zut! I shop for Christmas soon.” She said as her brain began working on who she should buy for and what she should buy.

There was Mother, Father, Stephane, Justine, and Bijoux within her family. Her parents had been only children and her grandparents deceased, so those bases were covered. Her friends from Beauxbatons, Antoinette , Charlotte, and Dominique. Oh, and Madame Maxime, of course. And now, Harry Potter was added to the list.

Going through the list, she couldn’t help but feel that maybe she should include all off her current professors, even if she didn’t know what they would like. “Should the professors receive presents?” She asked. She wanted to know if it would be appropriate for her to give them anything more than a card, and she was also sure that she could spread her Christmas budget enough to give them a small gift if it was.

[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}

Another hug. Merlin at this rate Harry was pretty sure that that Claude would be attached to him by the time he went to sleep. Either that or he would be used to hugs. Not that he really didn't appreciate hugs... but from people he just met, it was bit much. However Claude was starting to desensitises him. Or maybe he was getting used to her. Either or.

A small smile appeared on his features, his body not tensing as much, but still tensing enough. "Er, you're welcome." he said to her. He took another bite of his sandwich, now effectively eating half of it in a few bites. And he was still extremely hungry! Harry was used to not eating food, so he was able to go long periods of time of either not eating or eating very little. But he noticed that over the past year, his hunger seemed to be increasing with his size. And according to Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, he had grown a whole foot in just the summer.

"Err... zut?" he asked her. He was pretty sure that she had probably just swore in French. A breif thought crossed his mind. Maybe she could teach him some French swears. He was pretty sure his Professors weren't familiar with French. At least, he was hoping one Severus Snape wasn't. He effectively finished his sandwich, now looking around to see what else was on the table to eat. He started to shovel on heaps of Beef Cassarole, and began to shovel a gracious amount into his mouth.

He froze, his fork of food halfway to his mouth as she asked her next question. "Do the Professors receive..." he paused, thinking about it, lowering his fork to his plate in thought. "Never really thought about it really. I suppose you could get a Professor something... But you don't have to. They may actually look at you funny if you do." he said with a shrug. He still had to do his Christmas shopping.... and he wasn't sure where or when he was going to do it. He was being heavily protected where ever he went, and it made it difficult to shop for people.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL open AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 373 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 girl’s eyes widened as she realized that she had sworn, even if it was just a childish swear, and that her new friend had picked up on it. “Désolé, sorry. I not mean to swear. It mean... um.. how you say... dang? I not swear lots, et never any bad.” She explained. “Mon pere say it is not good to swear, very bad for making friends.”

She shook her head to get the abundance of swears she had heard out of her head so that she could actually focus on the idea of giving her professors an appreciation gift for Christmas. She could already see a list of books that would be suitable for both Professors Snape and Slughorn, seeing as how one was the former and the other current potion professors. Claude was also sure that a muggle gardening book would interest Professor Sprout, maybe even Madame Pomfrey. Yes, she decided. After she had bought presents for her family and friends, she would use the rest to send small gifts to the people who were willingly teaching England’s young wizard population how to control, use, and expand in their magic.

“I will get strange looks then.” She repeated aloud for Harry’s benefit. “I think it will be a good show, no? Show how much I like them.” Claude smiled at her friend before turning back to her half finished plate of food.

She strangely didn’t feel hungry now that her stomach had quieted down and she could once again hear herself think. Not wanting the horrible noises to come back, she consumed the rest of her food before washing left over particles down her throat with a few gulps of the pumpkin juice provided.

“Ah, Harry,” She turned back to her friend who was filling his own mouth with some sort of casserole. “Is there much you wish for Christmas?” Due to her lack of understanding with the English language, what she hoped would be subtle came out horribly blunt.

[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 jumped slightly as Claude started to apologizing for her swearing. He blinked, looking at her as if she were a bit strange. Honestly, what was so wrong about swearing every now and then? It wasn’t like he was a Prefect or anything that would turn her in for it. He swore himself a lot of times. Normally he did so where his Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin were concerned. Considering how poorly he was raised, Harry prided himself in having manners. “It’s okay, really… I don’t even know what you said.” he quickly told her to calm her down. He took another mouthful of Casserole, chewing only a little before swallowing thickly; washing it down with a huge gulp of Pumpkin Juice.

“Loads of people swear here. And every now and then you may here a Professor slip up and swear. It’s rather funny actually.” he said. Of course, he hadn’t heard to many teachers swear, but he had come across a few of them doing so. He shrugged slightly at her comment. “Like I said, it’s all up to you really if you want to give a Professor anything. But if you do, a word of advice. Stay away from Professor Snape. He’s not worth the effort or money, regardless of how little or how much you spent he won’t care. The only thing that anyone could possibly give him to make him happy would my mysterious disappearance.” he said. Snape absolutely hated him. Harry was positive nothing could make his Christmas than to hear ‘Harry Potter is Dead’.

He continued stuffing his mouth without appearing to be rude and just shoveling his food into his mouth. He blinked, stopping mid-chew with her blunt question. He had a feeling she hadn’t quite wanted to ask like that… but well; when English wasn’t your native tongue, it was a bit difficult to speak. He thought about it for a moment, slowly chewing his food as he thought. What did he want for Christmas? A small frown appeared on his features. “To be honest…” he was about to say nothing when his mind seemed to jump with sudden wants. He looked down at his plate, his green eyes filling with sorrow.

“Nothing that I could be given…” he said to her. What he wanted for Christmas… would be something he would want for the rest of his life. A day with his parents and Sirius… But he wasn’t to get that. There was no way to bring the dead back to life. “Besides, I don’t really like Holidays that much… Bad memories.” he said to her.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL open AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 435 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 French girl found herself agreeing with Harry on the opinion of their Defence against the Dark Arts Professor. The ‘greasy git’, as she had heard him been commonly called, was constantly in a sour mood and was never hesitated to remove house points whenever it seemed to suit him. There was also the issue with his inability to answer raised hands without insulting the student as either a dunderhead or as a know-it-all. From the few months of being his student, Claude sometimes wished that there was another professor to cover DADA’s classes just so that she and her classmates wouldn’t have to deal with his attitude. Unfortunately, that dream would probably be impossible to complete until the man either retired or died. Still, he was a damn good teacher and she had learned lots under his tutorage.

“He is not nice, but maybe not know how.” She suggested. She hadn’t been raised immune to the fact that other children did not grow up in a loving family like hers, that some had issues that she couldn’t comprehend. “Maybe a present will help, even little bit.”

Claude took another drink of her pumpkin juice as she waited for her friend’s answer to her blunt question of his Christmas gift, however, when Harry’s lips turned downward, she was worried. Then he spoke and the worry ebbed away until it was almost non-existent. It wasn’t that she was cruel, the opposite in fact, but because he gave a simple explanation for why his face had twisted in the form of sadness and anger. ‘Bad memories.’ It explained so much and so little at the same time. The girl was tempted to push to satisfy her never ending curiosity and thirst for knowledge that had ultimately placed her within the Ravenclaw House, instead she put her goblet of juice back on the table before giving the boy next to her a soft reassuring hug. After a moment of silent connection, she slipped her arms off of him and turned back to the food covered table before them.

“I am full now.” Claude reported as she stretched her arms above her head to lengthen her spine and take a deep breath of air. She lowered her arms and turned to her friend, a wide smile on her face. “How about you, Harry?”

[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}

A small snort escaped Harry as she suggested that he probably didn't' know how to be nice. Honestly, Harry knew for a fact that Snape knew how to be kind. How many times had he heard how kind his mother had been to everyone... And the memory he had obviously glimpsed last year of Snape's memories showed that they were some type of friends. So he knew how to be nice. But, then again, he had referred to his Mother as a Filthy Mudblood. He felt a surge of hatred flare up in him, his grip on his fork tightening to the point where his knuckles turned white. Dumbledore always insisted that Snape was okay... Even Remus had said so. But he'd been a Death Eater at one point! And his use of that word to his mother obviously showed what he thought of Muggleborns... No, Harry didn't believe an ounce of it. There are just some people would couldn't change who or what they really are.

He shook his head. "No, trust me when I tell you, a present won't be of any help where Snape's concerned. He just has it in his greasy head that he's better than everyone else." he said, his voice laced with hatred. Harry hated Snape for a number of reasons. For the way he bad mouthed his dad... for what he called his mother... and even... A small part of him blamed Snape for Sirius' death. If Snape had just assured Harry in some way, shape, or form that Sirius had been alright to begin with, than Sirius would still be here with him... He felt the tears burning in his eyes at the mere thought of his Godfather. He was slowly getting over it... but every now and then the pain reared its ugly head, striking him deep in the heart.

He was once again brought out of his thoughts by another hug. Dear Merlin! Girls were clingy!!! He'd grown use to Hermione's hugs... but that had taken the better part of a year or two! He blinked, looking at her as she stated that she was full. The smile on her face as she turned to ask him made him stop and look at his plate full of food. Was he done? He didn't want to appear rude and make her wait... but at the same time, talking and thinking about everything made him lose his appetite. So maybe this was why he subconsciously sought to keep everything bottled up. He wasn't sure what hurt more; the ignoring of everything or letting it all out and actually facing it. "Um, yeah... I think I'm done." he said, pushing his plate away. Now that he thought about it, the idea of food made him sick to his stomach.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL open AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 479 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]

Claude nodded as she watched as Harry’s white knuckled hand slowly returned to its regular colour and the poor fork was released back onto the half finished plate. Now that his hand was free, and didn’t look so threatening, she took it in her own and dragged to boy away from the table. Just before she was to cross the threshold to leave the Great Hall, the girl stopped and dropped Harry’s hand before running full speed back to where they had sat. Her petite frame practically wrapped itself around her overloaded messenger bag while apologizing to the inanimate object profusely in French and swinging it onto its rightful spot on her shoulder. Turning back to her new friend, she smiled from across the room before skipping to his side and taking his arm in her own.

“Sorry for that. It looks like I am... marbles lost?” She frowned at the sound of the phrase. “That does not sound right. Harry, what is the word when brain does not remember? Not forget though, it is a different word.”

Merlin! She wished she didn’t have this stupid language barrier from blocking half of her thoughts. It was a pain enough in class listening to lectures or replying to questions on tests. At least she could read the messed up language; that was at least a blessing of high value. She would defiantly have to put Harry’s offer of teaching her to full use, very soon if her grades had anything to do with it.

“Can you teach me soon? That is English. I want to talk better. It is not easy talking like I not do not know how. Many do not listen to me so easy like you.” Claude admitted honestly. Besides, she wanted friends and a certain title that would possibly be out of her reach unless she returned to her homeland as soon as she was able to. Anyways, learning the language properly would help her in the end.

[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 was taken by surprise as she grabbed his hand. He blinked, looking at her slightly, wondering what she was going to do. He wouldn't deny that a small part of him was glad she hadn't hugged him again. Maybe when they became better friends, he'd be more comfortable with that... But really the only ones he let hug him where those he considered family... and Harry wasn't up to trusting people who he didn't already consider family just yet. Not with Voldemort on the rise and attempting to find ways to kill him. His eyes widened as she pulled him away from the table. For such a small, petite girl she had a strong grip. The only other person he could remember being this... aggressive was Rita Skeeter... and he sincerely hoped she would not turn out to be like the Prophet writer. He barely had time to grab his bag and toss it over his shoulder as he was dragged from the table. He could feel the eyes of the students that were present on him again, and he wondered what new rumor about him would be running around the castle within the next few days.

Just before they got to the threshold of the Great hall, she quickly let go of his hand. At first he thought it was because she was aware of the eyes on them, but he quickly learned that it was not for that reason. She made a mad dash back to the table and grabbed her bag... Okay not so much as grabbed it but launched herself onto it and hugging it as if it were a long lost friend she hadn't seen in a few years. She quickly made her way back to him, wrapping her arm around his. He blinked, looking at her as she attempted to explain how she must have looked. “Er, well there's a few different phrases you could use there... You can say it looks like you've lost your marbles. Or You've got a few screws loose. Or just plain barmy. So... you'll just have to listen around and find a phrase you like.” he said to her.

He felt himself blushing as she mentioned that she would like to learn English properly soon. He honestly had no idea how he was to go around teaching her English... Sure, he could teach her defensive magic in a heart beat... but speech? That was different. The only way he could think of helping her was to have her really listen how others spoke, or correct her when she made a mistake. But, he's already said he'd help... and he wasn't about to go back on his word. “Well, Quidditch try outs are soon... which means that I'll be busy for the quite some time. But if you want, we could probably get together during breaks or something to figure out the best way to teach you.” he said, his voice thick with embarrassment. Was he really the only one to stop and give her the time of day or to figure out what she meant when her English was to badly broken? He would have thought that her fellow Ravenclaw's would have jumped at the chance to help her.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL Claude AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 544 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 ---. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0.}

[Claude Laroche]

The Ravenclaw nodded as she listened to Harry explaining the different phrases used to describe memory loss. Personally, Claude would have loved to keep listening to his voice instead of the words themselves. She found that the boy’s voice was low and pleasing to the ear, it was very soothing and deep, just bordering perfect for her. Too bad it wasn’t. As much as the girl loved his voice, it wasn’t the one that she wanted to hear when she would be falling asleep in a lover’s arms. She smiled to herself as Harry’s voice finished on the lines of something about Quidditch and getting together on breaks. As long as her new friend wasn’t interested in her romantically, they would have a great friendship.

Claude continued smiling at everything and nothing at all while walking, her arm still tangled with Harry’s, her heavy messenger bag clunking against her side like an old friend. As she just enjoyed the new stretch of silence and the company of the boy beside her, a single word filled her brain and her eyes lit up like fireworks. “Scatterbrain!” She exclaimed. “That is the word I want! I hear it sometimes when people do not remember right. Finally I remember. I must be scatterbrain then, right Harry?” She beamed a smile up to the boy before turning back to smile at the random corridor they were traveling through and continued walking randomly.

Soon a childhood tune had entered her happy little world and she was singing right along with it, her feet picking up into a light skip.

“Alouette, gentille Alouette
Alouette, je te plumerai
Je te plumerai la tête
Et la tête
Alouette
O-o-o-oh
Alouette, gentille Alouette
Alouette, je te plumerai.”

She finished the single verse before bursting into a fit of giggles. She let go of Harry’s arm and twirled in the middle of the corridor before taking a slight bow. “I have not sing this song since I was little.” Claude admitted. “I forget how fun it is.”

[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 was probably the only student to ever enter Hogwarts, receive all the attention he did, and still feel completely uncomfortable; even if he were only with one person. He was used to being ignored... treated as scum. And it was so deeply ingrained in him that even after six years at the magical school where he and his scar were famous, he had no idea how to coop with it all. He knew his popularity was always something of a bother to Ron, who craved the attention Harry received. Harry was more than willing to give it to his best friend. He didn't want it. He felt he had enough going on with his life that he really didn't need right now. He didn't need to world to know every type he wiped his arse.

He really had no idea where he was going. Or rather, he had no idea where Claude was going. He wondered vaguely if they had the next class together... He tried to think of what he had. He wasn't entirely sure what the time was. But he knew Ron and Hermione would probably be wondering where he was. They usually ate lunch together, and if he had a sudden change of plan and didn't tell them... well, they panicked quite easily where he was concerned. Especially Hermione. He jumped sky-high at her sudden outburst, all thoughts of his friends drifting from his mind. He looked at her, slightly alarmed. He opened his mouth to say something, however she had already turned her attention back to the Corridor they were currently traveling. And then she started to sing a song in French.

Filled with Curiosity, Harry listened quietly, wondering slightly what she was saying. It had a nice, catchy little tune... He came to a stop as she let go of his arm to do a little twirl and bow. A dark brow rose high into his bangs, which were effectively hiding the scar on his forehead. “What is that? That song you were just singing?” he asked her. He reached up to scratch at his scar lightly, a small pang of irritation bothering him; although he barely realized it. It was nothing compared to how badly it was capable of hurting.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL Claude AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 378 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 ---. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0.}

[Claude Laroche]

Claude tilted her head to the side as she watched Harry scratch his forehead, where if she remembered correctly, his famous lightning bolt scar was located. The song she had sung was a children’s song that originated from the French America... Quebec, she believed it was called. She did know that Alouette was almost as old as the fur trade that had begun there, a song that the children developed while helping their mothers pluck the feathers from various birds. The French girl may have felt sorry for the poor bird, but she enjoyed the song.

“It is a child song.” She said as she straightened her body and skipped back to her friend’s side, naturally taking his hand from his scar and placed it in her own before continuing to walk. “When mon pere was little, he went to Canada avec his pere and learn Alouette. Stephane and me were born and pere teach us how to sing the song. He tell us how little children would sing and clean birds to eat. I feel sorry for the alouette. It is a pretty bird. Brown and earthy colours. Very pretty voice aussi. I think the English is a Skylark... oui, a skylark. Alouette is song where a skylark is lost all feathers from person. You take them from la tete, the head, and everywhere else there are feathers. Much more verses to get all feathers.”

The Ravenclaw stopped talking for a moment before turning to Harry. “Do you have a favourite song, Harry?” She asked in curiosity. Alouette and Frere Jacques were her favourites from childhood, but those were French. She wanted to know if there were any really good English songs. Besides, if she could get her dark haired friend to use his voice to sing, it would be worth it, even if he was horribly off-key. Claude couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as the thought entered her mind. Imagine, Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, singing off-key in the shower every morning. Actually, it probably wasn’t that weird of an idea. Who didn’t sing in the shower?

[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 blinked, looking at her as she told him it was a children's song, skipping back over to him. His emerald green gaze fell to his hand as she took it from his forehead to hold it in her own. He continued to stare at their hands for a bit before looking back up at her as they continued their aimless walk down the corridor. He listened to her explain about the song and how she learned it. But... she kept saying a name, or at least he thought it was name, he didn't understand. “Mon... Mon Pere... Is that your Dad?” he asked her. He really didn't know much about any other language... but she was referring to a male. Unless... it was her uncle or brother or grandfather or something like that. Hell, for all he knew it could have been her cousin or boyfriend.

He licked his lips slightly to take in her words. “So... It's a children's song about de-feathering some bird... That seems... a bit... disturbing.” he answered truthfully. “But it has a nice tune to it. Maybe, you can teach me the song?” he asked, looking at her sideways. He frowned slightly, trying to rack his brain for songs. He... really didn't know any. The Dursley's never let him near anything that could possibly bring him joy of any type. He only acquired a bedroom shortly before his eleventh birthday... a few days to be exact. And the Dursley's had only given it to him in the hopes that it would stop the acceptance letters from Hogwarts from being delivered to their house. He wasn't allowed to watch T.V. or listen to the radio. Even here in the Wizarding world he didn't listen to the radio much.

“I don't have a favorite song... Er... I don't listen to music at all really. So, I wouldn't know any songs... So I don't sing either.” he said. He knew a lot of people sang in the Shower... how many times had he heard one of the other boys singing in their stalls off key or missing half the words? Harry himself never really joined in. He knew a very few songs, and the only time he could remember singing anywhere had been right after the Quidditch World Cup last year in the tent with the other Weasley's... and even then it was a single verse maybe a grand total of nine words.

_{SO THIS POST IS FOR THAT SPECIAL PERSON I CALL Claude AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE done! THERE ARE ABOUT 410 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 ---. CREDIT FOR THIS TEMPLATE GOES TO BUNNYA! OF CAUTION 2.0.}

[Claude Laroche]

Claude slowed her pace as she looked up at Harry. “Oui. Mon pere is my father, but father is not easy to say so I say Pere. Et Alouette does have good tune, I would be happy to teach you. Et at least the bird is dead before song starts. To clean feathers so one can eat right, rip out big feathers before boiling bird and then get little feathers. Before people had to clean birds all on their own, now we buy from store already done.” She said, answering his questions. However she stopped walking completely when her friend admitted to not singing. Her jaw dropped open before she remembered to close it, and when she did, she had moved right into his personal space again. “C’est impossible! All people sing, even just a little! You not sing in shower or hum when you do something?” She asked. As she talked, her hand detached itself from his and her fingers traveled to his throat to examine his adam’s apple and the glands beside his vocal cords, studying them for any signs of use other than talking.

Finding nothing, she moved her hands to cup his face and turned her watery eyes to his. “It is terrible. I must teach you to sing, even just a little. Many have songs inside, few do not let them out and become miserable in life.” She said, words of wisdom pouring out from her lips.

She blinked to clear her eyes that were threatening to destroy her vision with the blurriness of tears and cleared her throat. “Repeat after me.” She said sternly. “Do. Re. Mi.” The three notes were the lowest on the regular C scale, and for someone who claimed to have never sung, these where the ones to start with.