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The O.C. by lain

Format: Novel
Chapters: 2
Word Count: 8,202
Status: WIP

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Violence, Substance Use or Abuse

Genres: Drama, Romance, AU
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Arthur, Molly, Luna, Draco
Pairings: Harry/Hermione, Draco/Hermione, Ron/Luna

First Published: 08/01/2007
Last Chapter: 09/02/2007
Last Updated: 09/02/2007


Harry Potter has defeated the Dark Lord, but is now getting into trouble.  When he gets caught in a crime, his defense attorney, Arthur Weasley, brings him home and into the prestige community of Orange County. He will meet all of the faces of this rich town, most importantly the brown-eyed beauty to whom he is smitten,  to which he finds himself such an outcast. please reivew!

Chapter 1: Welcome to the O.C.
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A dark fog crept over Willow St. as two figures appeared out of thin air at the end of the road. Walking very smoothly over the ground, as to not be seen or heard, they made their way up the street.  The two figures looked around cautiously in the darkness, with their wands at the ready. They continued until they reached the end of the street, which left them gazing up at a large, darkened home. They stood just behind the driveway, checking one more time for any sign of life on the street. The two figures looked at one another in silence, finally the taller of the two spoke,

"No one's home. Perfect. I'm your godfather, Harry. If I don't teach you this, who will?"

The boy who called himself Harry looked up. Harry Potter meant many things to the wizarding world. To many, he was a boy with piercing emerald green eyes that could practically hypnotize people. He was a boy with a pair of round glasses that never left his face. He was a boy with untidy black hair that covered his lightning bolt shaped scar. To some, he was the Boy who Lived. "The Chosen One", they called him. That is exactly what he was, too. The Dark Lord destroyed his parents and then marked him as his equal. 

Harry attended Durmstrang, where he quickly learned of Grindelwald's sign, the Deathly Hallows and the Dark Lord's want for the Elder Wand. When Lord Voldemort returned to his body during his fourth year, Albus Dumbledore become the new headmaster of the school. The headmaster informed him of Voldemorts horcruxs' and helped him to destroy them. Dumbledore died during the final battle, which took place at the school. With all but one horcrux gone, Harry went to face Voldemort in the final battle. He sacrificed himself for the entire world, came back, and saved the day, all by age sixteen. 

However, once he defeated the Dark Lord, things took a turn. Harry Potter was used by the wizarding world. Not one single soul thanked him for saving the fate of the world. He prevented millions of deaths, particularly muggle-borns, yet Harry did not even receive one thank you card. Harry literally killed himself for the greater good. Sure Harry did not want a full blown ceremony dedicated to him and an article by Rita Skeeter entitled "Harry the Hero", but it seemed as if he meant nothing to these people. 

Harry met up with his godfather, Sirius Black, who had been in hiding at 12 Grimmauld Place during the entire war. Considering the fact that he was on the bad list for both sides of the war, he thought it was best to remain hidden. To the wizarding world, Harry Potter had vanished. Only some rare and slightly misguided Daily Prophet articles were all the wizarding world had of him now. The only thing that the article had correct was the fact that Harry Potter meant one thing now: trouble. He practically blew his entire fortune at a muggle casino and became engulfed by his dark past. He let his Godfather's old rule-breaking ways consume him and followed along on all of his Godfather's schemes. They broke both wizard and muggle laws and were doing so again tonight. 

Harry looked from Sirius to the house. It was quite large. Rich people obviously dwelled inside the empty house. Harry despised the rich, but he was somewhat hesitant about robbing the house, deep down Harry Potter knew that this was wrong. 

"Sirius, do muggles live here?" Harry asked hurriedly as he looked down the street once more.

"Of course not Harry," said Sirius, "there's nothing worth stealing from a muggle."

Sirius hurried up the driveway and quickly went around to the back of the house. Harry followed closely behind. 

"Alohomora," whispered Sirius, pointing his wand at the door. 

Surprisingly, the door sprung open. Harry thought a more powerful spell would have been required to enter the hose, but clearly these were rather trusting people. Since the downfall of Voldemort, Harry found people trusting others everywhere he turned. Harry knew better, though. Harry knew that there is always something to ruin our lives. We're always ripe and ready to be taken. Sirius had rushed into the house with a satisfied grin on his face, while Harry hesitated. 

"I don't know, Sirius. Why are we doing this?" asked Harry.

"Quit being a ruddy coward! Start acting like your bloody father! Get in!" barked Sirius. 

Harry entered, obeying his orders. They walked through what looked to be the kitchen. Sirius looked around like a little kid in the candy store and grabbed anything and everything he wanted. Harry went to the front window to keep watch. He sat himself down on a red couch and pulled the curtain to the window back. It had been maybe five minutes when Harry saw a flash of light coming from the street and heard a distinct "pop". 

"Sirius!" yelled Harry fiercely. "They're coming! The Aurors!"

Sirius came running down the stairs with a jubilee of items in his hands. 

"We have to apparate, Harry!" bellowed Sirius. "Back to Grimmauld Place, now!"

Closing his eyes and gripping Sirius' arm, because Harry still had not fully gotten the hang of the Apparation, he stepped forward into that feeling of horrible compression. However, when he opened his eyes, he was not in Grimmauld Place. He was not in Grimmauld Place at all. He opened his eyes to a dark cell. No windows were in the cell, only a thin mattress and a toilet. 

"Sirius?" Harry called out into the darkness. There never came a response. 

Harry was walking past the cells of Nurmengard, with Aurors on either side of him. Harry was looking at the floor as the prisoners in the cells he passed jeered and hissed at him. Harry reached the end of the hallway and was led into a room with long lunch tables. At the furthest table sat a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he has was a very bright shade of red. He was wearing a very nice pair of green robes, rather expensive looking, too. 

Just great, thought Harry, a rich bloke is defending me. 

The man looked up and saw Harry. He stood from his chair and started rummaging through some papers. 

"Harry. Arthur Weasley. The ministry's appointed me your public defender," the man said with a rather odd giddy smile, looking at Harry expectantly. Harry looked at the man up and down with a stern and unwelcoming look upon his face. Arthur frowned as they both sat down. 

"You could do worse. You okay? They treating you all right?" Arthur questioned. 

"Where's my godfather?" Harry asked while keeping his eyes focused on something besides Mr. Weasley. 

"Sirius is way over seventeen. Sirius broke into a house. Sirius had a muggle gun in his trousers, an ounce of pot in his jacket, a couple of priors," he stated not taking his eyes off the file he was reading. "I'm guessing right now Sirius is looking at three to five years. But Sirius's not my concern right now. This is your first time in lockup. I'm guessing you don't plan on coming back. Your marks are not great. You dropped out of Durmstrang. But your exam scores. Straight O's and one A on your O.W.L.S. Harry, if you get back into school? Are you thinking of having a career?"

Harry scoffed to himself while rolling his eyes as he leaned away from the table. 

"Have you given any thought at all to your future?" Arthur asked. "I'm on your side. Help me out here. Give-"

"Healers are advancing to the point where the average life span will be one hundred years," Harry interrupted. "But I read this article which said that the ministry will no longer be able to fund those who retire, meaning the government will stop paying them by 2025, " Harry continued without averting his gaze, or blinking for that matter. "Which means wizards are gonna have to stay in their jobs until they're 80," Harry paused, finally making eye contact. "So I don't want to commit to anything too soon."

Arthur chuckled to himself. He knew this kid would be tough, but he hadn't suspected clever.

"Look I can plea this down to a misdemeanor. Petty fine, probation. But know that breaking into a house because your godfather told you's stupid and it's weak. Those are two things you can't afford to be anymore-"

"Two more things?!" Harry spat back. 

"Do you want to change that? Then get over the fact that life dealt you a bad hand. I get it. I lost loved ones too, Harry. We all do. That's no reason to behave the way you are. I lost my son, Fred, to Voldemort. I almost lost everything by being a "blood traitor", but we need to live for them. Not avenge them," Mr. Weasley finished. 

"You honestly think I do these things because of my parents’ death? Because of Dumbledore's death? No one cared after I killed Voldemort," Harry said, his eyes flashing." I was marked as a pig to be slaughtered. I always was. I was used. I did what I was told, saved everyone's arse, and no one says, 'Hey, thanks.' My godfather was the only one who understood," Harry finished quietly, looking away from Arthur.

Mr. Weasley blinked and then sighed, "I grew up with no money, my father was gone, and my mother worked all the time. I raised my younger siblings. All by myself. I get it. I was pissed off. I was stupid-"

"Look at you now," Harry muttering with a smirk.

Mr. Weasley ignored the comment, then said, "A smart wizard like you, you gotta have a plan, some kind of a dream."

"Yeah right," Harry said as he lifted hiss head up again. "Let me tell you something, okay?" Harry said as he leaned in closer. "Where I'm from, having a dream doesn't make you smart, knowing it won't come true, that does. I moved to Albania, where there are no dreams. "

Mr. Weasley exhaled one large breath.”Harry, you're coming with me. Just until Monday, when Child Services opens."

Mr. Weasley told the guards the information while Harry went to put his regular clothes on. It felt good to get out of the worn down bright orange prison clothes he had on. He now wore a wife beater, black jeans, and a black necklace. His muscles were practically ripping though his beater. Harry was never much for Quidditch but developed his muscles from all the fist fights he's gotten into. 

They stepped out of the jail and headed towards the parking lot. "Here follow me," Arthur said as he led him toward a muggle car. It was a black Lexus, a very expensive car.

"Aren't we just going to use a portkey or apparate, sir?" Harry puzzled.

"Oh no, Harry," replied Mr. Weasley, "We're going to Newport Beach in Orange County, the "O.C.", as most people call it. Have you ever heard of it?"

"Yes," answered Harry, as they pulled out of the lot, "It's where the snobby rich muggles live in their steroid houses with their fancy cars and designer clothes. It's on the shore of Britain.  They live in a bubble." 

"I guess you're right," Mr. Weasley said, "It is where the more fortunate live. Well, I live there. And so do many other wizarding families. It's almost entirely taken over with people from out world, though. But, since there are still some muggles we do not use any magic. No portkeys, no apparting, no brooms, and most importantly, no wands. I will not be giving you your wand back for that reason. We even go by and listen to the muggle police system. I know, shocking isn't it? The kids attend a private and highly selective wizarding school, Hogwarts, during the year."

Harry looked out the window while Mr. Weasley explained their world. He kept watching as the world passed him by. He saw the ocean coming closer.  They began to pass some houses, which were bigger than Durmstrang. They passed a beach and Harry saw some teens running around with a football, kicking it.  They pulled into the driveway of a large, white house and stopped. Harry went to get out of the car when Mr. Weasley stopped him and said, "Why don’t you wait here for a minute, I'll be back." Arthur left Harry in the car and braced himself for the gale force he was about to meet, his wife.

"You brought him home!' spat Molly Weasley, a skinny little witch with red hair like Arthur's.”This is not a stray puppy, Arthur"

" I know that Molly," said Arthur.

"You're endangering our home. Did you even think of Ron?" asked Molly. 

"It's only for the weekend. Till Child Services opens on Monday."

"What if this is all a scam?"

"He's not a criminal mastermind. He's a kid who has no one, and nowhere to go. When did you become so cynical?" retorted Arthur. 

Molly began to walk away from Arthur. She turned just before the door frame and said, "He sleeps in the pool house."

"Where are you going?" asked Arthur as he found himself looking at her back again. 

"To put my jewelry in the vault." she replied, "where do you think I'm going? He's going to need sheets and a toothbrush and towels."

Molly left leaving Arthur standing alone in the kitchen.

Harry had gotten out of the car and walked to the end of the driveway. He carried with him a pack of muggle cigarettes, his newfound obsession. He stood at the end of the driveway, pulling a cigarette from the container and putting it in his mouth. He looked up, and then he saw her. 

A girl, a fairly tall girl, but not as tall as Harry, with long brown ringlets that fell onto her back. Her long slender legs were hidden behind a pair of dark denim jeans. She wore flip flops and a white tank top, which fell just above her hips, revealing some of her tiny torso. She was standing at the end of her driveway, the driveway next door to the Weasley's. She hadn't seen Harry yet; she was doing something with what looked to be a muggle cell phone. Harry lit a cigarette. She heard it, and looked up. Her brown chocolate eyes poured into his emerald green ones, at a distance. They remained silent for a moment, and then she spoke.

"Who are you?" she asked with an air of confidence as she dropped her arms to her sides.

Harry paused, then said, with his cigarette in his mouth, "Whoever you want me to be."

The girl looked him up and down, taken aback by his comment.

"Okay" she said hesitantly, as she smiled and looked the other way. She knew him from somewhere. His eyes looked far too familiar. Turning her head back towards him, she watched him as he played with the flame his lighter was producing. Her eyes traveled from his eyes up to his forehead, resting on the lightning bolt scar half-hidden from his unruly black hair. 

Harry Potter? Could this really be the Harry Potter? No, Hermione. Don't just scream his name, stay cool. 

She looked back at her house and then said, "Hey, can I bum a cigarette?"

Harry put the flame away and walked over to her driveway. He pulled a cigarette from the box and handed it to her. She took it, placing it between her two fingers and smiled as he lit hers. She blew out the smoke and smiled, looking at Harry.

Harry put the cigarette back in his mouth and stepped backwards back into the Weasley driveway. He put the lighter and box into his jean pocket. 

"So what are you doing here?" she asked, "Seriously?"

"Seriously?" he mimicked blowing out the smoke, taking a step towards her. "I broke into a house. Actually my godfather did. Since he had a gun and drugs on him, he's in jail."

The girl raised her eyebrows in interest and smirked a little.

"I got out," Harry continued, "so Mr. Weasley took me in."

The girl puffed an air of smoke from her lips, looked at him and smiled.

"So, Harry Potter, you're their cousin from Paris, right?" she said coolly. 

"How did you-"

"I'm a witch. Muggle-born. My name's Hermione. Hermione Granger. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that the infamous Harry Potter is here. So back to my question, you're their cousin from Paris right?" stated the girl. 

"Right," said Harry as he smiled. He liked this girl's spunk. 

"Hi Hermione,” said the voice of Mr. Weasley who had interrupted their conversation and was now eyeing the cigarette in her hand. 

"Hey," Hermione started nervously as she chucked the cigarette as far as possible, "Mr. Weasley. I was just meeting your nephew."

Mr. Weasley looked between the two of them confused for a second, but the understood.

"Oh! Of course! My favorite, Harry!" e said as he passed Harry's back, "Harry all the way from Surrey!"

Hermione looked at Harry and smiled. "Surrey?" she asked. 

"Dad lives there, mom lives in Paris," Harry quickly recovered/

"Mmmmm," she muttered with a knowing smile on her face. It didn't take a troll to know that Harry Potter never even had parents. 

"So we're all really excited about your fashion show fundraiser tomorrow," Mr. Weasley said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Really? You are?" said Hermione not missing a beat.

Mr. Weasley pretended to do a hair flip with his balding head and said very confidently, "NO!"

Hermione laughed at Mr. Weasley, showing her pearly white teeth. 

Just then a black pick up truck drive by them and stopped in front of them. In case you couldn't see the truck with its very bright lights, you could always go deaf from the music the car was blasting.  A blonde with black beady eyes was the driver.

"Come one, let's go," he barked at Hermione.

Harry looked from him to Hermione,

"Hey, you should come by, check it out. If you don't have any other plans," aired Hermione, "see you."

She walked past them and up into the truck. Hermione kissed the boy and for some odd reason Harry felt annoyed. 

"Who's that kid?" the boy asked Hermione as they drove off.

Mr. Weasley looked to Harry and said, "Let’s go inside."

Harry was still holding the cigarette in his mouth as Arthur said, "There's no smoking in this house."

Harry simply threw the cigarette on the driveway and kept walking towards the mansion. Mr. Weasley quickly went to put it out. 

Harry and Mr. Weasley entered the pool house.

"So this is where you’ll be staying," Arthur said. “And this is the queen of the manor, my wife, Molly." He raised his hand to point to the red headed woman standing in the corner staring at him apprehensively. 

"Hello, Harry," she said with a smile, "welcome to our home. If you need anything, just let us know."

"Thank you. Thanks very much," Harry said and smiled. 

Molly looked to Arthur as he said, “We’ll see you in the morning, and make yourself comfortable." They left. 

Harry dropped his backpack on the floor and looked around. In the center of the room, there was a large king sized bed with black pillows and blankets. There was a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a lovely sitting area. It was nicer than Harry's houses. Harry quickly got into bed and fell asleep.

Chapter 2: fight club
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quick disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter...or the o.c...i just merged the two together! 

Harry Potter opened with green eyes then next morning, slowly, with caution. He picked his head up, looking around the room, confused. Where am I? He thought. He suddenly had a vision of the brown eyed girl he met last night, and everything came floating back to him. Harry yanked the covers off of himself and headed towards the door to the spacious pool house. He opened the door to what was a simply stunning view. He could see the ocean for miles from the house, which sat atop a monumental hilltop, as did all of the other houses in The O.C. The pool in the Weasley's backyard was also very stunning. It was very large and the far end of the pool was greeted by a hot tub.

In my house, Harry thought, we had a bath tub...with hot water. I could get used to living the muggle way.

Once Harry finished soaking in the radiance of the view, he walked inside the main house for some breakfast. When he opened the door, he saw a bright red-headed boy, his age, with brown eyes, and many freckles, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed in front of him. He was wearing a black shirt that had the symbol of the Chudley Cannons Quidditch team on it. On the back it read, "Win or lose, we still booze!" The boy was playing what looked like a muggle video game. His hands were working fiercely at the controller he was holding.

As Harry shut the door behind him, the boy turned his pale face to him. He simply stared at Harry for several minutes before saying a quick, "Hey."

"Hey," Harry replied curtly.

"Do you wanna play?" asked the boy, leaning his heads towards the game.

Harry had never played a muggle video game before. When he was a small boy, he used to watch his cousin Dudley play them all the time. He was never offered to play. However, the machine was once thrown at him because Dudley kept losing whatever bloody game he was playing. Charming boy, that Dudley was.

"Sure" said Harry, as he walked over and sat down next to the boy.

After several minutes of playing, Harry quickly learned that the red-head was very good at the game. Harry was losing, horribly.

"Look's like someone's trying to be a hero, but he got a little cocky" the red head shouted at the TV. Actually, his intent was to shout at Harry, but he never turned his head away from the screen. He spoke very fast, almost mumbling making him nearly impossible to understand.

"X, O! X, O! It's an unbeatable combination! Oh...Oh!" the boy shrieked as he threw the controller down and his shot his arms up in victory. "Where did your head go, buddy? I’m sorry. Did someone die?" he swooned sarcastically at Harry.

"Oh hey, want to play 'Dark Wiz'? It's pretty cool. You can’t break into houses and-"he paused realizing that that was the sort of thing Harry was involved in. He quickly continued with, “not that that's cool-or uncool . . . I don't know."

Just then Mr. Weasley entered carrying a bag of groceries.

"I see you met my son, Ron" he stated. "Ron, what are you doing inside on this beautiful day? Why don't you show Harry around town?"

"Okay because it's so great around here," retorted Ron with a hint of revulsion in his voice. "There's oh so much we can do! We can't use our bloody wands! 'No magic allowed', thanks to you. What do you want to do, Harry?"

"What do you guys do around here?" Harry asked,

Ron had decided, well Arthur pretty much forced him, to take Harry sailing on his sailboat. Harry had no idea how to handle a boat, so he left Ron to pull and tug at the ropes. Once they had been sailing for a long enough time, Ron eased up on ropes and just let the wind take control of the boat. It was a beautiful day.

"I have this plan. I-I-I don't know what you think," Ron stammered out through his mumbling. "But um, next July the winds shift and I want to sail to France. I could do it in only a few days."

"Wow man..." Harry started, unsure if he was supposed to be surprised or completely creeped out. "That sounds really cool."

"Yeah," Ron said. “You just hit the high seas and catch fish off the side of the boat. Of course, I could always just used magic to get the fish. My dad has my wand somewhere though. Just total quiet."

"You won't get lonely?" asked Harry.

"We'll I'll have Luna with me," Ron said, as he pointed to the far end of the boat.

Harry followed Ron's finger and printed on the side of the boat, saw the name, 'Luna Nights'.

"It's the girl the boat's named after," Ron explained.

"She must be pretty thrilled," Harry said.

"Yeah," Ron hesitated, “she has no idea. I've never actually talked to her before. I mean I talk to her in my dreams and stuff... but that's totally beside the point."

Harry looked away, slightly embarrassed for Ron As far as Harry could tell, Ron did not have many friends. They finished up their sail and headed back to shore.

"Hey fellas," Arthur said as he approached them on the beach. "I thought we'd head over to the fashion show at seven."
"Yeah. Have fun. Give Mr. and Mrs. Granger all my love," spat Ron as cleaned up his boat from their sail, not even looking at his father.

"Come on, it's a whole new school year," his father pleaded.

"It's also the same kids dad. Why do they even need a fashion show? We wear school robes to school yet everyday is a fashion show for these people." said Ron.

"Harry has to go," said Arthur, looking over to Harry. “Hermione invited him."

Ron stepped down from his boat and gazed at Harry.

"Hermione invited you?" he said, in awe. "I've lived next door to Hermione since, like, forever. Her dad almost got married to my mom even. And she's never even invited me to a birthday. They had a cotton candy machine once, I saw from over the hedges."

Arthur stood there shaking his head. "Okay Peeping Tom. At any rate, that is not true. They did not almost get married."

"Maybe Luna will be there," Harry chimed in.

"That's super interesting," Ron said using a lisp to emphasize the 'super'. "She is Hermione's best friend. Seven?"

"Seven." Arthur replied.

Hermione walked from her room out onto her balcony with an astounding view of the beach. She rested her petite hands on the railings as she looked at the path that led from the beach up to the Weasley's. She saw Ron and Mr. Weasley (easily recognizable by their bright hair), and Harry. He was so intriguing to her for some reason. He had this air of a rebel, yet she knew he wasn't as bad as he pretended to be. He was tall, mysterious, dark, and extremely handsome. If that weren't enough to do a girl in, she could not get his striking green eyes out of her thoughts. She watched them travel up towards the Weasley house until she was broken from her thoughts by the doorbell. She went to answer it to two big men in black suits and sunglasses. Hermione had seen these two before; their visits became more frequent as the days passed.

"My dad's not here," she stated matter-of factly. Hermione had the reputation for being an 'insufferable know-it all' and she always knew the answers to any question before they were even asked. She learnt everything she possibly could from books. Her favorite, Hogwarts, A History, was so beat up that several pages were torn and the binding was broken.

"Mhmmm," said the bigger of the two men, clearly disbelieving her, "Well when you see your father, please remind him again how much we'd like to talk. Here's my card."

Hermione snatched the card from the man's hand and slapped the door in their face. Hermione headed towards her Dad's office, giving a slight knock on the door as she entered.

Mr. Granger sat at his desk, drowning in paperwork. He had messy brown hair, a strong build, and a pair of Hermione's eyes. Being a muggle, he had a muggle job. He was some kind of accountant, at least that was Hermione's take on the matter.

"Hey," he said. "Thanks, kiddo. I just didn't have time to deal with those guys right now."

"But I mean everything's okay, right?" Hermione asked nervously, handing him the card.

"Yeah it's just a- just a thing with a client," he said, "noting for you to worry about, okay?"

Hermione nodded as she turned and walked out of the room. She went upstairs, thinking of her father. She was so worried about him.
Several hours later, Hermione headed back downstairs ready for the fashion show. She wore a black dress with a thin strap on one shoulder that had nothing on the other shoulder. It hugged her body very nicely, hitting on all of the right curves. Along the dress was a pink lining that led to the bottom of the dress, which fell on Hermione's knees. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore very light make up.

"Hermione you look," her mother started in a disapproving tone as she turned around to face her daughter, "oh honey, I thought you were going to wear your hair down. Pulled back like that, it's harsh on your angles."

Rose Granger was very difficult to please. She grew up very poor and in the wrong side of town. She married into money and got all that she ever wanted. She bought and bought, spent and spent. The only thing more important to what designer clothes she was wearing was how people perceived her and her family. She spent more money on clothing, purses, shoes, etc. then she spent loving her daughter. She was a nasty piece of work, that's what she was. In her mind, she was royalty.

Hermione simply nodded her head at her mother and went into the car, anxious to get away from her.
Harry Potter entered the fashion show wearing a borrowed black suit. The party was at the country club that the Weasley’s' belonged to. It was an impressive building with a very nice outdoors area. All of the people stood around a very large pool, which was located in the center of the party. Everyone was dressed in their finest, drinking champagne, listening to the classical music being played by the band. Harry felt very uncomfortable at a party like this. Most of the parties he had been to involved strippers, and a keg.

A small, yet flamboyant waiter approached Harry with a tray of food. "Mushroom-leek-crescent? Crab and-brie filo?" he offered.

Harry, who thought he was speaking French, simply stared at him. He muttered a "no thanks" and the now flustered waiter walked on.

Ron came up behind him in one of his many nice suits and stated into his ear, "Welcome to the dark side," as he continued walking past Harry.

Harry strolled through the party, one his own, gazing at all the rich people. It wasn't long before he discovered that word travels fast in this town. At least a dozen people advanced on him, asking him bizarre questions about his life, each having a different wild story.

"Did I hear you were from Canada?" a dark-haired woman said to him, not really asking the question, but more so stating it.

Harry, unsure how to answer, because apparently that is what she heard, even though it was the furthest thing from the truth, took a bite of his crab-n-somethin, and said, "Yes, yes you did."

Meanwhile, Ron was standing with his hands in his pockets and his head down at the edge of the pool, alone. The blonde boy who had kissed Hermione the other night just walked past him, not looking at him. Ron, who had been mad fun of by the boy since their first year at Hogwarts, decided that maybe this year would be different.

Ron took one of his big hands from his pockets and waved awkwardly while stumbling out a, "Hey, Draco, what's up?" Ron then quickly put his head back down and remained where he stood.

"Hey!" Draco Malfoy mocked as he strut his lean body over to Ron. "Suck it, queer," Draco sniggered as he walked away, making sure to nudge into Harry who stood not far off, witnessing the whole interaction. Harry gave him one of his infamous 'death stares' and Draco kept walking.

"My vacation was great too. Thank you for asking about it. Can't wait to see you at Hogwarts!" Ron muttered pathetically to himself, as he looked up at Harry.

Across the pool stood Luna and Hermione, who Ron had made a point to notice. Luna had long flowing blonde hair, and very pretty blue eyes. She had a whimsical air about her and seemed to be swaying back and forth, as if two invisible people were pushing her between them.

"Luna's right over there. Don't look," Ron rushed out at Harry faster than a Firebolt, "wait, I'm sorry, don't look. I mean you can look but don't look like you're looking."

Ron, who was very flustered at this point, looked back down at the floor. Mr. Weasley made their way over to them.

"Hey guys," he said.

Mr. Weasley followed Harry's gaze and saw Luna across the pool. He lifted his finger and noticeably pointed right at her while saying loudly, "Ron is that Luna?"

"I'm -I'm just gonna go stick my head in the loo," Ron said in embarrassment as he walked away from them.

"Way to salt his game, Mr. Weasley" Harry said as he sauntered past Mr. Weasley to go find seats for the show with Ron. He saw Ron towards the back of the room, at a table with small children. He was saving him a seat.

The lights had dimmed as everyone took their seats. Loud techno music began to fill the room as a spotlight came onto the runway. Young, beautiful teenage girls began walking out onto the runway wearing the best and most expensive clothes that were donated for the event. The show was slightly boring for Harry and he could barely keep his eyes on the show. He rested his hand under his head to give him head support, he was dozing off until something, someone, caught his eye.

Hermione had come onto the runway. What she was wearing, Harry had no idea. All Harry knew was that she was simply gorgeous. She had simplicity about her. It wasn’t a striking beauty like a model but it was more subdued, almost hidden. Her hair was tied back in a bun and it revealed her long, flowing neck. She elegantly walked down the lengths of the runway.

Draco Malfoy, who had a seat practically on top of the runway, ‘wooed ‘loudly while clapping his hands as she passed. Hermione smiled at him for a split second, but continued walking. She kept her head up and looked out into the crowd ahead of her. There, sitting way in the back corner of the room, her chocolate eyes were met with a pair of emerald. They kept that eye contact as she got to the end of the runway. When she finally reached the end, keeping the eye contact, she popped her left leg out and placed her right hand on her hip as it pushed out. While she hit her pose, she smiled at him while raising one eyebrow suggestively. She then turned around, letting her hips sway a little extra and walked off the stage.

Harry turned to Ron to see if he saw any of this, but he was busy mumbling to one of the boys how he accidentally bumped into Luna in their second year. ‘It was a gift from Merlin’, he was telling him.

From across the room, Harry Potter was receiving a shooting glare from a pair of beady little black eyes that belonged to Draco Malfoy. He watched Hermione’s eyes when she was onstage, and was astounded by the fact that they were not staring back into his, but into this green-eyed stranger. Draco swiftly garbled something to one of his friends’ sitting at the table next to him.

When the show ended about two hours later, Harry was eagerly to leave. Him and Ron bolted towards the door and were almost on their way to freedom when Harry felt a slight tug on his arm. He turned around and saw that the tug came from a skinny girl, who was of Indian descent, with straight long black hair that fell at her shoulders. She had brown eyes, not nearly as enticing as Hermione’s, and high cheekbones. Harry recognized her from the show; she was one of the prettiest.

“Hey where are you going so fast?” she said in a soft voice, “I’m having a party at my parent’s beach house. Their letting us use it for all of our hard work on the fashion show. If you need a ride or anything…. I’m Parvati.”

She ran back to her group of giggling girls and they all hurried over to a big yellow muggle truck. Harry gave one look at Ron and they speedily headed towards the truck with all of the girls. There were no safety belts in the car so they each grabbed onto the ceiling as the car started and drove off to the party.

Harry and Ron entered a beach house that was jammed pack full of teenagers. All of the girls were running around in little bikinis, or they were dancing on anything that could be stood on. Music was blaring from a sound system and people were dancing everywhere. There were kegs and bongs everywhere, along with empty bottles and red cups. Ron stayed very close to Harry, clearly uncomfortable, but Harry felt right at home.

“Welcome to the dark side,” Harry said to Ron as he smiled and then left Ron to go and find a nice hard drink.

Ron stood amongst the teens, befuddled. He sat down on a coach near him to see the people next to him snorting cocaine. They looked up at him.

“Oh hey, cocaine,” Ron stuttered as he got up and walked away from them, “that’s awesome.”

“Hey Hermione,” Parvati said as they were fixing themselves a drink. “Look who I brought. “

Hermione looked up at her as Parvati motioned her head toward Harry Potter, who was walking around by himself.

“I’m gonna play him hot and cold,” Parvati said as she took a swig of her beer.

Hermione walked away from Parvati in disgust. She was only interested in him because he’s attractive, she thought, she doesn’t even know him and she’s already acting like the scarlet woman that she is. This shouldn’t even bother me. Why do I care? I don’t know him anymore than she does. He is really handsome though, wait…what am I saying? I love Draco. I’ve been with him since our first year when we first met on the train. Now we’re going into our seventh year and I still love him. At least I think I do, don’t I? Oh, now I’m confused. Me and my ruddy brain.

Hermione wandered aimlessly around looking for Draco throughout the house so that she could get her mind right and forget about Harry. She took another drink and headed upstairs.

Draco, however, was not looking for Hermione. He was currently lying on the beach with some girl he met at the party. Well, he wasn’t really “lying” on the beach; he was lying on top of the girl, kissing her passionately. His hands roamed over her body hungrily and all thought of Hermione were far from his mind.

Ron was making his way through the party, still dumbfounded by everything he was seeing. He wanted to go to the bathroom to hide out for a couple minutes, so he went to go and find one. He opened the door to find a threw-way in the bath tub. He quickly turned his head around, while muttering, “Wow, I’m sorry. I should really learn to knock…in case there’s a three-way going on in the bathroom.” Ron continued to walk around through the party. He decided he needed some fresh air and headed towards the beach.

Ron stood there, staring into one of the many bonfires. Her heard a cracking noise behind him and whipped arums to see Crabbe and Goyle, two of Dracos’ men. They were both big, bulky, and carried a slight resemblance to trolls. They approached Ron.

“What’re you doing here, ass-wipe?” Crabbe teased. “Who invited you here geek?”

They began to shove Ron back and forth.

Hermione spent most of the party looking for Draco. He wasn’t picking up her calls either. She decided to change out of her dress and into a pair of jeans and a red stripped tank top that laced at the chest and rested before her hips, showing some of her torso. She was walking towards the bar, when she saw Harry there, alone, fixing himself a drink.

“Hey, “she said smiling seductively as always, “what do you think of Newport?”

Harry looked her over as she took a sip from her cup, still keeping eye contact.

“I think I can get into less trouble where I’m from,” Harry said, grinning slyly.

Hermione lowered the cup from her face and smiled back.

“You have no idea,” she said as she walked away.

Harry walked out onto the porch and gazed down at the beach. From a distance, he could see a small fight breaking out by one of the bonfires. Harry squint his eyes through his glasses and saw that it was two boys against one, and the one appeared to have bright red hair.

“Ron,” Harry murmured to himself as he sprinted towards the fight. When he got down there, Ron was not putting up a good fight. Harry seriously doubted that Ron had ever been in a fight before though.

“You guys really wouldn’t hurt me because that would be so clichéd,” said Ron as the two boys picked him up and threw him back down on the sand.

“Oh, I guess you’re fans of the cliché, “Ron sneered, mainly to himself.

“Shut up,” Goyle barked.

“Oh, very cliché. You guys could write a book with that material,” Ron joked back. That remark earned him to be picked up again this time by his feet; he was hanging completely upside down by his feet.

“Hey, hey! Put him down,” demanded Harry.

“Oh hi’ya Harry! What’s up?” Ron asked casually.

“Hey, what’s up pal? You got a problem?” insisted Draco as he strolled over to Crabbe and Goyle, his shirt off.

“You tell me!” Harry spat, walking closer to Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked and then pushed Harry. Harry paused, smiled, and then punched Malfoy in the face. Malfoy fell over in the sand, looking at Harry with those hate-filled eyes once more. Malfoy got up and tackled Harry unexpectedly. After several punches later, Harry lay defeated on the sand, wishing he could have used magic more than ever.

“WELCOME TO THE O.C. BITCH!” Malfoy shouted at Harry as he walked away, “This is how it’s done in Orange County!” 

A small crowd had gathered around the fight. Harry quickly got up and brushed himself off, fixing his glasses which were askew. He went over to Ron, who was laying on the sand. He helped him off and they made their way through the crowd. As the walked, the passed Luna. Ron literally screamed at her ,"HEY!HEY! LUNA! HEY! I'M RON!!!"

Her big blue eyes stared at him in a confused daze. She had no idea who he was. She didn't really want to know who he was either.

Ron and Harry entered the pool house, beaten up, and exhausted. Harry immediately fell onto the bed as Ron fell onto the couch. They sat in silence for a few moments.

“I don’t know what to say, “said Ron, breaking the silence.

“Then don’t say anything,” Harry whispered to himself so that Ron could not hear.

“You totally had my back out there. You were, like, out of Fight Club or the Aurors Department something. You know what I think?” Ron continued without waiting for Harry’s response. “I think that if you were to teach me some moves, I think we could totally take them next time, that’s what I think. A little bit of that” he said as he flailed his leg up pretending to kick it. “You know what I mean? A little bit of that and that, that, this!”

He kept kicking and punching the air, but to anyone else it looked like he was having a fit or something.

“What about that?” he asked Harry as he raised his hand up for a high five, which Harry accepted.

“Yeah, oh also, “Ron persisted, “that wasn’t exactly the way I first planned to talk to Luna, but I’m now on her radar. Do you think I should tell her about France? Do you?”

Harry laughed at the hopeless cause and said, “Not yet.”

“Okay, that’s what I thought, well, “mumbled Ron, “that’s what I was thinking. I wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”

Harry chuckled and sat up on the bed. Ron settled down on the couch.

“What a little night we had there, “said Ron happily. “I’m not gonna forget it. Harry, I’m not gonna forget that one.”

Ron passed out within five minutes, snoring loudly. Harry stood up and decided to air out the alcohol in his system. He went out onto the balcony. From it, he could see down upon Hermione’s driveway, where a car pulled up. Harry watched as Luna and Parvati carried a sleeping Hermione to her front stoop and quickly ran back to the car and drove off.

“Great friends,” Harry said to himself.

Harry went down to Hermione’s driveway to check on her; she had been drinking a lot that night. He knew she couldn’t stay there. He also couldn’t go ringing the Grangers’ doorbell at three in the morning with their drunken daughter. Harry bent over her petite figure and picked her up. He drooped one of her arms around his shoulder and then scooped up her legs at the knees. He carried her body back to his pool house. He silently placed her in his bed. He pulled the covers over her body, just stopping at her chest. Harry stared at her for a few minutes.

She looks so peaceful, so beautiful, Harry thought.

Harry grabbed an extra pillow from the closet and made a small bed for himself on the floor. He silently fell asleep.