You're a Badger, Harry

17: You Need to Come up With a Good Title, Author

Yeah, um... the title shouldn't be permanent, but knowing me, it will be. Anywho...

Summary: Hermione gets a brilliant — (*Harry clears throat*) okay, fine — wonderful idea

Sluuuurrrp.

Ron, Hermione, and Draco watched as Harry downed half his chocolate smoothie. All three wore identical expressions of worry.

"Guess it really is a good reason you didn't play, huh?" Ron said once Harry had set aside his cup for the time being.

"Mm."

Harry had been prepared for the dementors to be at the Quidditch game, even told Remus he had a feeling they should all be extra careful, but it hadn't been enough. They still came, and Harry had still heard his mother begging Voldemort to spare Harry while Voldemort tried to get her to move so he could murder Harry to death.

.........

Isn't Hogwarts great?

On the bright side, the chocolate smoothie was phenomenal. It had been sweetened with bananas and sprinkled with chocolate chips. Harry didn't need a dementor to give him an excuse to drink it.

"We get it, you like chocolate smoothies," said Ron, speaking over the rather... interesting noises Harry was making as he finished off his smoothie.

"Hell, yeah I do. It's just too bad you can't just, I don't know, order one off a menu or something. You know, as a snack."

Hermione suddenly gasped. "That's it!"

"What?" said the boys in unison.

"Harry, you just gave me a brilliant idea!"

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who can come up with brilliant ideas," said Harry. "Just ask Sage."

Sage the author pauses in her writing to shrug. "Debatable."

"A wonderful idea, then," Hermione continued, unperturbed. "You know those vending machines in the Muggle world?"

Harry's eyes lit up, but Ron and Draco just said with all the eloquence of pureblood culture, "Huh?"

About a week passed, then, to the confusion of the purebloods and pleasure of the Muggle-born and -raised, snack machines were put into place.

"I am a genius," said Hermione, doing a little dance.

"That you are," said Ron, who was currently trying out ketchup-flavored crisps. They were surprisingly not that bad.

Only Fred and George didn't seem to like the idea — but only because they hadn't come up with it.

"It's perfect!" George told Sirius, lying on a couch like one would in a therapy session.

Sirius hummed, jotting something down on his clipboard. "And how does that make you feel?"

Remus appeared in the doorway at that moment. Then he left.

George, who hadn't noticed the brief interruption, huffed. "I'm upset that I love it."

"I see." Sirius pushed his glasses (which were just for show) up his nose. "Tell me, George, have you ever considered... improving it?"

George blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you and Fred have clever minds. I'm sure you can turn this around."

A smile slowly slid over George's face. Yes. Yes, they could.

Remus returned to his office only after George had left. "Padfoot, darling, must I remind you that there are plenty of other rooms if you want to play therapist?"

"Play therapist? Who said I'm playing therapist?" Sirius looked very indignant. "I'm simply letting George rant to me for free."

"And you're giving him advice?"

"Not to worry, I have a permit." Sirius handed him a folded piece of parchment.

Remus opened it, then gave Sirius an unimpressed look. "This just says, 'I can do what I want.'"

"Yes." Sirius returned the look. "It's permitting me to do this. Besides —" he leaned against Remus' desk, a smirk crossing his lips "— you have to admit I look hot like this."

Remus' Adam's apple — er, Remus' apple? — bobbed. "Maybe a little..."

Sirius' smirk broadened and he pulled Remus forward by the tie.

A few moments later...

The door banged open. "Moony, I have something to — HOLY SNITCH ON A QUIDDITCH PITCH!"

Harry glimpsed a pair of flushed faces and an unbuttoned shirt before hightailing it out of there.

Both men froze. "Maybe we should have gone to the bedroom first," said Sirius.

Remus gave him another unimpressed look — which was quite impressive considering he had a full view of Sirius' bare chest. "You think?"

Meanwhile, Harry had run into the common room and was now lying in the fetal position on the floor. "This is the end..."

Hold your breath and count to ten

Jayson quickly turned off his phone at the deadpanned looks thrown his way. "Sorry."

"What did you see?" Susan asked, kneeling next to Harry with a very serious expression.

"I saw — I saw —"

"Yes?"

"I saw them... about to do it..."

"Oh." The word was barely audible. Susan placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "My condolences."

"Please don't tell your aunt."

"As you wish."

The vending machines at Hogwarts were totally a thing, they just weren't important to Harry's journey.