MetaFic

The first Hogsmeade weekend of the term was scheduled for the Saturday after the first weekend of classes.  Harry, Claire, and their friends gathered in the common room that morning, waiting for the rush of younger students to get through the line to exit the castle.  Since Filch had disappeared – along with Snape, Madam Pince, Professor Binns, and a particularly creaky set of armor – the students were able to leave the castle much more readily, but the seventh-years preferred to avoid the queue.

Once all five of them were ready, Claire clapped her hands excitedly.  “I have an idea!  Instead of going to Hogsmeade, let’s all go up to the Heads’ Suite and just talk.  I feel like we never see each other around here.”

The others agreed, and they all climbed up to the small common room of Harry and Claire’s suite, which expanded automatically to accommodate them.  A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door, and Harry answered.  

“Oh, hello, Luna,” he said.  “Come on in.”

“Hi, Harry.”  Luna skipped into the room, her bare feet making no sound on the plush carpet.  Her radish earrings tinkled merrily and her butterbeer cork necklace swayed to and fro as she dropped into an empty armchair.

“This is nice, huh?” Claire said.  “Just to be able to talk without worrying about studying or anything.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Ron said.

As Harry sat back down next to Ginny, she idly reached up and unbuttoned the top of her shirt to give him something to see.  “So, Claire,” she said.  “Tell us about America.”

The stunning blonde waved her hand airily.  “Oh, it’s mostly boring.  Not for me in particular, of course, but in general.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow.  “Why isn’t it boring for you?”

“Lots of reasons.  But never mind that.  For most people it’s a lot like living here, but with different words, different weather, different government, and different people.  Honestly, the only good thing we have that you guys don’t is cheerleading.  Y’all should really catch up on that.”

Luna nodded, blowing her stringy hair away from her yellow eyebrow.  “I’ve read about that.  Cheerleading is when tribes in the desert get water out of bumblebee palaces, right?”

“Nope.  Isn’t that cool, though?” Claire asked.

“No, not really,” Luna replied.

Claire nodded happily.  “Cheerleading is when a group of girls – and sometimes guys, but that’s a little weird unless they’re in college – lead the school in cheering for their team.  Mostly it’s Quodpot, but sometimes the squad cheers for our Quidditch team, too.  I can’t, though, because I’m the Seeker.  My twin sister plays Quodpot, so she takes my place to cheer for Quidditch games.”

“You play Quidditch?” Harry asked.  “Are you any good?”

“Just average,” Claire said.  “The U.S. Quidditch Association gave me a plaque listing all the national records I hold, but I never really paid attention to the sport.”

“Quodpot has it all over Quidditch, anyway,” Ron said.  “The Chudley Cannons switched games this year because they figured it out first.”

“What sort of cheers do you lead?” Hermione asked.

“All kinds.  Some are simple.  You know . . .”  She leapt up from her chair and planted her feet shoulder-width apart.  With her back perfectly straight, she clapped her hands together in front of her chest.  “Ready?  O.K.!

“Gryffindor, Gryffindor, fight fight fight!”  She repeated the same phrase several times, accompanying each line with a series of stiff arm movements.  On the fifth or sixth round, she stopped at the end and jumped straight up and down, shaking her hands above her head.  “Wooooo!”

“That was bloody brilliant!” Ron shouted.

“Thanks!”

Harry shook his head.  “I can’t believe we’ve been chanting ‘Go, Go, Gryffindor’ all these years.  That one is so much better.”

“That’s just a simple one,” Claire said.  “With more people you can do formations and dances and gymnastics and stuff.”

Hermione lowered her eyebrow.  “Could you teach us to be cheerleaders?  Then we could do all that neat stuff with you.”

“Sure!  With four of us we could do some good routines, and Ginny’s so small we could throw her really high.”

“I can’t wait!” Ginny said.

Claire moved to the edge of her seat and straightened.  “Okay, first you have to look like cheerleaders.  That’s the most important thing.  If you don’t look like a cheerleader at all times, even when you’re not in uniform, no one’s going to know you’re a cheerleader.  Then they’ll just look at you funny when you do cheers.  We call that pep squad.  Anyway, what y’all need are makeovers.”

On cue, the room expanded again.  The loveseat Harry shared with Ginny split, and his newly-formed armchair slid to the edge of the room alongside Ron’s.  Hermione, Ginny, and Luna all ended up sitting on armless chairs in a line in the middle of the room, and Claire stood in front of them.  Behind her was a huge array of tables holding mirrors, lights, aerosol cans, hairbrushes, and oversized tackle boxes.

“Now girls, we need our own looks,” Claire said.  “I’m ‘statistically impossible girl next door,’ so that’s taken.  Let’s see . . .”  She scanned the other three girls, her brow slightly furrowed.  Her gaze landed on Luna.  “Okay, Luna, you’re going to be ‘elegant enigma with endearing hidden quirks.’”

“All right.”

Claire picked up a hairbrush and a few small implements from the table behind her.  As the others watched, she smoothed Luna’s hair into a neat ponytail and then shaped it into a flat, elongated twist at the back of her head.  Next she applied a bit of makeup, darkening the area around Luna’s eyes, reddening her lips, and accentuating her cheekbones.

“Now for clothes.  Let’s see . . . white, I think.  You’re a tad skinny, so we’ll want to show your shoulders without going completely strapless.  I think . . . yes.”

Luna’s sweater and jeans shimmered and re-formed into a white, knee-length dress.  It had a collar but no shoulders or sleeves, which seemed odd to Harry.  He could not deny that it looked quite nice on Luna, though.

“Perfect!” Claire said.  “Now you wait a few minutes, okay?”

She turned to Ginny.  “Hmm . . . you’d be really good for girl-next-door, but we absolutely can’t be similar.  Your hair would work for ‘crazed sex kitten,’ but you’re not that kind of girl.  You don’t really need make up, which eliminates a lot of the exotic personalities like ‘gothic-but-not-too-gothic mistress of the night.’  So I think it’ll have to be ‘surprisingly hot country girl who’s friends with everyone.’  What do you think?”

“Works for me.  I’m from the West Country, you know.”

Claire nodded.  “Sometimes I amaze myself.”  Once again she performed her magic, keeping Ginny’s flowing red mane loose but sorting it neatly across her shoulders so that it fell down in front of her breasts.  That done, she transformed Ginny’s clothes into overalls that exposed her sides to the air yet clung to her chest and hips.  The legs of the overalls ended well above mid-thigh, leaving Ginny’s legs visible all the way down to a pair of ankle-height leather boots.  Just as Harry was leaning to the side and trying to see inside the bib of the overalls, a white tube-top appeared and fitted itself tightly around Ginny’s chest and ribs.

“Damn,” Harry said.  “That is hot.”

“She’s definitely going to be friends with at least half of everyone,” Ron added, nodding morosely.

“Now for you, Hermione,” Claire said.

Hermione tried desperately to flatten her bushy hair.  “I hope you appreciate a challenge.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.  I once took the ugliest girl in school and turned her into the prom queen.  Or the runner-up, anyway, which was just as special all things considered.  You’re not nearly as unfortunate-looking as she is.”

Claire walked around Hermione’s chair for a few minutes, turning her head this way and that.  Finally she stopped and nodded.  “You’ll be ‘well-known nerd who’s hiding her beauty until just the right moment.’”

“That sounds complicated,” Hermione said.

“It is, I guess, but it’s totally worth it.”

Hermione’s makeover took longer.  Claire began by plucking several dozen hairs out of Hermione’s brow, which left her fighting back tears.  After liberal application of something in a black bottle, Hermione’s hair was straight and shiny.  Claire twirled it up into a round bun high at the back of Hermione’s head, and she carefully secured it with two perfectly-sharpened pencils.  A flurry of makeup left Hermione’s face looking reasonably normal but somehow smoother and shinier.  Without warning or commentary from Claire, Hermione’s weekend clothes morphed into an exact replica of her uniform skirt and shirt, complete with knee-high socks and Mary Janes.

“Erm . . . Claire,” Ginny said, “that’s how Hermione looks every day, more-or-less.”

“With better hair,” Ron said.

“That’s the idea,” Claire responded.  “Now, Hermione, listen carefully, because this is important.  The pencils hold everything together.  Do not pull them out until just the right moment.  We can test it now so you know how it works, but after that you have to pay attention and not pull them out accidentally.  Got it?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, a familiar look of determination on her face.  “I won’t touch them until just the right moment.”

“Let’s test it, then.  Here’s what you do . . .”  Claire leaned over and whispered in Hermione’s ear.  Ginny and Luna, sitting nearby, giggled softly at whatever the blonde was saying.  “Ready?”

Hermione nodded.  “I think so.”

“Stand up, then, and give it a try.”

The brunette rose to her feet and turned to face Harry and Ron.  She bit her lip for a moment and then took a deep breath.

“Okay,” Claire said.  “Here we go . . .

“Just the right moment!”

Her eyes downcast, Hermione reached up with both hands and pulled the pencils out of her hair.  The effect was instantaneous.  Her hair fell in tumbling curls around her face and brushed her shoulders.  Her shirt shrank, and the top buttons opened themselves just in time to show her breasts lifting and filling out a bit. The bottom hem of her shirt crept up to just above the waistline of her skirt.  The skirt itself shortened a few inches – though it was still much longer than Ginny’s shorts – and began to sway gently in an invisible breeze.  When her clothes stopped changing, Hermione looked up from the floor and straightened, her eyes taking on a look of innocent nonchalance.

“Bloody hell, that was brilliant,” Ron muttered.

“My goodness, Hermione,” Luna said calmly.  “You’re very alluring.”

“It worked?” Hermione asked, her expression shifting to excitement.

“Definitely,” Ginny and Claire chorused.

Harry grinned.  “The Ravenclaws aren’t going to be able to think straight if they see you do that.”

“Bloody hell, that was brilliant,” Ron said.

“Perfect, Hermione,” Claire said.  “The key here is that it’s okay to be the least attractive girl in a group.  You just have to make sure you’re in the right group.  With Ginny and I here, and Luna to provide contrast, no one will ever think you’re not gorgeous. That’s what gives your look its integrity.”

“Oh, thank you, Claire,” Hermione said, hugging the other girl.  “I can’t tell you how . . . how really fulfilled I feel right now.”

“You’re welcome, hon,” Claire said.  “Now we can start on cheerleading, see?  But we’ll only do some stretching today, because if you don’t stretch properly you can’t do anything else.”  

A fourth chair appeared facing the first three, and Hermione and Claire both sat down.

“Excuse me,” Luna said.  “Before we begin, may I adjust my outfit?  It’s not quite comfortable.”

“It’s not?” Claire asked, a beatific look of confusion on her flawless face.

“No.  I won’t change anything you can see, though.”

Claire shrugged.  “Okay, then.”

Luna pulled out her wand, waved it silently, and then shimmied in her seat.  “That’s better.  Thanks.”

“Okay, then, here we go.  Sit up straight, put your knees together, and put your hands on your hips.  When we move, you’ll feel how your hips flex and bend, and that’s what’s important.  It may not always look like it, but cheerleading is all in the hips.

“Now, move with me.  Move your right knee to the right, and keep your foot right under your knee.  Move until you feel your muscles stretch, but don’t go any further than that.  Now bring your right knee back to the start, and do the same with your left knee.  Got it?”

The girls began repeating the pattern in time to Claire’s instructions.  Ron and Harry sat, transfixed, as they watched in the mirrors along the front of the room.

“Next we’re going to stretch the other way.  Move your right knee out to the side, just like before.  This time, when you bring it back to center, lift it up towards your chest at the same time.  Then lower it back to the side.”

While the three novice cheerleaders practiced the new maneuver, Harry found himself staring at the mirror in front of Luna.  Next to him, Ron was clearly doing the same.

“To finish up, we’re going to do one more motion.  Move your knee out to the side, and when you bring it back to center, don’t raise it as much.  Instead, cross it as far as you can over your other knee.  You’ll feel the stretch in your hip under your hand.  Now put your right leg down and do the same thing with your left leg.”

Ron whispered, “Bloody hell.”

Harry swallowed carefully.  “Er . . . should we leave?”

“No,” Claire said.  “Why would you?”

Harry grunted as Ron elbowed him sharply.  “No reason.”

“That’s great, girls,” Claire said after several repetitions of the final pattern.  “We’ll continue another day, but for now keep practicing those stretches.”

Harry exhaled loudly, and Ron released a soft, disappointed groan.  Both of them wiped their foreheads on their sleeves.

The room shifted again, and Harry found himself back on a loveseat next to Ginny.  Fortunately, Ginny’s outfit did not change, and Harry wasted no time in caressing her exposed thigh.

“Now, Harry,” Claire said, “I know you’ve been sitting back there getting bored for a while, and I appreciate your patience.  But now I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Harry asked, surprised.  “What surprise?”

“I’ll show you.  We’re going to make a quick trip.”

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked, twisting her hair back into its bun and replacing the pencils, which somehow caused her outfit to revert to its original configuration.

“Diagon Alley.”

Ginny glanced around at the others.  “But . . . are we allowed?”

“Oh, sure,” Claire said.  “I got special permission from Dumbledore.”

“Well, okay,” Harry said.  “Shall we head down to the Three Broomsticks to use the floo, then?”

“Of course not.”  Claire pulled a book of matches out of her pocket.  “I got us a portkey.  Everyone grab on.”

They all put a finger on the little cardboard square, and a moment later Harry felt the tugging sensation of portkey travel.  When the feeling ended, Harry spun in place, trying to get his bearings, and ended up falling to the floor and rolling several yards until he ran into a wall.

“Oh god, not another method of transportation Harry can’t manage,” Ron said.

“Hush, Ron,” Ginny said, pulling Harry to his feet.

He looked around and recognized the interior of Gringotts Bank.  The six of them stood near the back of the main hall, near a set of ornate doors.  A goblin waited next to the doors.  “Is that you, Griphook?” Harry asked.

“Of course,” the small creature said.  It looked over the group, winked down at Ginny, and then opened the doors with wave of its hand.  “Come in.”

They all filed into the room and sat around a large table.  Claire smiled hugely at the goblin.  “Mr. Griphook, sir, would you mind releasing Harry’s full inheritance to him?”

“Humph,” Griphook grunted.  “We’ve been trying to hide that so we could keep it for ourselves, but since it’s you, I suppose we can give it back.”  He snapped his fingers.  “There you are, Mr. Potter.”

“So, Harry,” Claire said, grinning.  “I get to tell you what you have.  First, you now have access to vault number one, which is the entire lowest level of Gringotts.  It’s guarded by basilisks.  Inside is approximately 987 billion galleons in cash, several thousand years’ worth of family jewelry, a couple of talking portraits, and a large collection of swords and such.”

“That’s in addition to the 13 billion galleons you have from your parents’ trust vault and the Black fortune,” Griphook said.

“Wait,” Harry interrupted.  “How do I have the Black fortune?  Is Sirius dead?  Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“No, he’s fine,” Claire said.  “He just wanted you to have it.”

Hermione counted on her fingers quickly.  “Goodness, Harry.  That makes you a trillionaire.”

“That’s only the cash,” Claire said.  “You also own a property in Godric’s Hollow, Potter Manor and all of the surrounding countryside in Devonshire, two castles, and the entirety of the Canary Islands.  Oh, and the Great Sphinx of Giza.  Your private library is inside.”

“Cool,” Harry said.  “Is that all?”

“No, of course not.  You own flats in every major city of the world and a summer cottage in a place called Newport.  The Catholic Church rents Vatican City from you, which is a nice little money-maker, and you receive shipping taxes from the Panama Canal.  Technically, you own the Mariana Trench, too.  I’m not sure where that came from.”

“That’s wonderful, Harry!” Hermione said, leaping up from her chair and hugging him until he could not breathe.

Harry extricated himself before turning back to Claire.  “Can I give her the library?”

“Sure,” Claire said, shrugging.

“Hermione, I’m giving you the Sphinx.  Have fun.”

“Excuse me,” Ginny said.  “Is Potter Manor that huge house that I’ve just realised is not far from The Burrow?”

“That’s it,” Claire said.

Ginny grinned.  “Harry, I think you might actually own my house.”

“Really?  Well then, I’ll give it to your parents.  Let’s see . . . Ron, why don’t you take one of the castles; whichever one you like.  Claire, Newport is in America, right?” She nodded.  “Then you can have the cottage there.  Luna . . . well, you should have the trench.  There must be loads of odd creatures down there for you to find.”

“Why thank you, Harry.”

“What about me?” Ginny asked, looking up at him with a patently false expression of self-pity.

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten you, Gin.  I’m giving you Vatican City so that everyone there can worship you as much as I do.”

Claire stood up and smiled.  “Luna, Hermione, Ron . . . why don’t you go visit your gifts?  Griphook can give you portkeys.”

Hermione bolted out of the door, dragging Griphook along with her.  Smiling and waving, Ron and Luna followed.

“Now, Harry,” Claire said, sitting back down closer to Harry and Ginny.  “I want to thank you for that house in Newport, and I have a gift for you in return.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry said.  “Apparently I have just about everything I could ever imagine, and I can buy the rest.”

Claire smiled.  “Not this.  I’m going to help you and Ginny have a deliriously happy life.”

“Really?  How?” Ginny asked.

“There’s a spell we use in America, but no-one here seems to know it.  It creates a soul-bond between two people which allows them to hear each others’ thoughts, feel their feelings, and even remember their memories.  Davin and I use it sometimes, and it’s really wonderful.”

“You mean it’s not permanent?” Harry asked.

“No, of course not,” Claire said.  “It can really get to be overwhelming if you use it for too long.  You just turn it on every now and then to catch up and share something special.”

Ginny scooted forward in her chair.  “How do we do it, then?”

“It’s easy.  Just hold your wands tip-to-tip, stare deeply into each others’ eyes, and say Soulicus Bondicus.”

“Let’s try it, Harry!” Ginny said, drawing her wand.

Harry pulled out his own wand, touched it to hers, and spoke the incantation while staring down into her beautiful brown eyes.  As soon as the final syllable left their lips, he felt something change in his brain.

~ O~h  m~y  g~o~d,  i~t  w~o~r~k~e~d! ~

He could feel her knees pressed up against his, and she could feel his knees pressed up against hers.  They could both feel the slightly rotting aftertaste of Harry’s morning orange juice, and they both wanted to fix the incredible wedgie that Ginny’s outfit was giving her.

~ T~h~i~s  i~s  t~o~t~a~l~l~y  w~e~i~r~d. ~

Memories immediately began flowing back and forth between them.  All of the memories were very interesting and wonderfully detailed.  

After a few moments, as the memories got older, Ginny shuddered.  ~ S~w~e~e~t  m~o~t~h~e~r  o~f  M~e~r~l~i~n,  H~a~r~r~y!  Y~o~u’v~e  h~a~d  s~o~m~e  s~e~r~i~o~u~s~l~y  d~i~s~t~u~r~b~i~n~g  d~a~y~d~r~e~a~m~s. ~

Harry grinned at her thoughts.  ~ E~x~c~e~p~t  M~i~c~h~e~a~l,  e~h? ~

That question triggered another torrent of memories.  As their faces reddened and their breathing became heavy, Harry squeezed his eyes closed.  “How do we turn it off?” they asked.

“Just say Bondicus Endicus together.”

“Bondicus Endicus!” Harry and Ginny said.

The bond ended, leaving Harry and Ginny staring at each other separately and panting.  “That was incredible,” Ginny said, fanning herself.

“Isn’t it awesome?” Claire asked.

“I can see how you have to be careful with it, though,” Harry said.  “We almost got carried away there.”

Claire shrugged.  “Don’t worry, I was ready to leave the room for a few hours if necessary.”

“You’re a good friend, Claire,” Ginny said.  She sniffed softly.  “I just . . . I feel like everything good in the world has happened since you came to Hogwarts.  Absolutely everything.  I can’t explain it, but I just know.”  She reached up, wrapped her arms around the taller girl’s knees, and hugged her tightly.  “Thank you so much for coming into our lives.”

Claire patted Ginny’s head.  “Oh, you’re welcome, of course, but it’s been my pleasure.  Do you two want to head back to the castle now?  Maybe take a nap in Harry’s room?”

Harry took Ginny’s hand and pulled her to his side.  “Yes, please.”

“Okay,” Claire said, grinning again.  “Just use the portkey to get right back there.  Oh, and Ginny, those clothes changed permanently, so be sure to fold them properly when you take them off.”

“I will,” Ginny said.

Harry took the portkey, this time noticing the word ‘pinehearst’ written on the front.  Ginny put her finger on the other end, and a moment later they fell directly into Harry’s bed.  For once, he had no problem landing in the right spot.