I Do Not Own Harry Potter or Temeraire
Harry's return to Hogwarts for his fifth year was part joy and part frustration and anger for the young man.
The Joy came from the fact that he had hit a growth spurt during the summer, along with some lean muscle from all the work the Dursley's had him do. The result was that he looked a few years older than fifteen, and drew some appreciated glances from not only young women his own age, but from several older women as well.
Not that he actually noticed either groups appreciative glances.
This was, unfortunately, outweighed by the the fact that his name was being slandered, the Ministry was trying to discredit him, Dumbledore was ignoring him, Umbridge was torturing him, and people denying Voldemort's return.
Not even the formation of Dumbledore's Army had completely taken away these feelings, though it had helped.
Tonight however, Harry just wanted a break from everything. His date with Cho had been an unmitigated disaster, his interview with Skeeter had been both unpleasant (due to his dislike of the woman) and painful (due to the memories it brought up), and he had overheard several comments about his mental stability from several Hogsmeade residents and his fellow Hogwarts students.
So his decision to go to the Room of Requirement to unwind had not been to unreasonable.
Arriving in front of the hidden room, the young teen began to pace in front of the blank wall, thinking of what he wanted.
'I want a place to escape my life and relax for a few hours.'
When the door appeared, Harry immediately opened it and stepped through...
Only to be shocked as his clothes changed and he found himself in a quiet tavern.
Looking down, he noticed that his clothes wouldn't be to terribly out-of-date in the wizard world. His simple shirt and breeches appeared to be quite old fashioned. But he fit in with the few people milling about. Reaching down and finding a full coin purse, Harry decided that he'd start off with trying something to drink and made his way to bar. Sitting down at the far end, near a staircase leading to another level, he waved the barkeep over and ordered a simple ale.
His experience with fire-whiskey smuggled into the dorms by Fred and George had told him that, at least until he got used to alcohol, it was best to start off small.
Captain Jane Roland idly ran her hand over her newly healed scar.
As an aviator, the brown haired woman had never really concerned herself much with her appearance. But ever since that damned Frenchman had sliced her face open, almost blinding her in the process, she had been unable to prevent herself from starring at it whenever she looked into the mirror. And while she didn't consider herself to be a proper lady, in fact her appearance was deliberately boyish, she still liked to think of herself as somewhat attractive.
It was hard to think such when her left eye dropped a bit on the side and her left lip refused to rise as far as it once did.
Which was why she had actually dug out a, admittedly plain looking, dress and left the covert to visit one of the taverns down in Dover. Sure, she could go the covert's officer's club for a drink, but a drink wasn't what she wanted.
She wanted reassurance that she was still attractive, a reassurance she knew she wouldn't get from her fellow aviators. Despite their unconventional lifestyle, women in the corps actually had a harder time attracting a suitor from the men of the corps. This reason was two-fold. The first was their deliberate boyish appearances, so as not to diminish the authority of their rank in battle from non-corpsmen, meant that they typically weren't as attractive as non corps-women (or perhaps the proper term would be hidden). The second was the sense of camaraderie amongst the Aerial Corps.
They were simply 'one of the boys' to their fellow corpsmen.
So walking into the tavern, she was pleasantly surprised to find several appreciative glances...
Up until they saw her scar.
In fact, Jane noticed that only one man didn't seem to mind her scar. As she sat at a corner table, observing the tavern, she couldn't help but notice his stare every now and then. And when the barmaid brought over a whiskey for her, she began to observe him as she sipped her drink.
He was a fair bit younger than her, with messy black hair and bespectacled eyes that she could not see the color of. But she did notice two scars, though she couldn't make them out well from where she sat. One was on his brow, and the only reason she noticed that one at all was because of the young mans frequent attempts to brush his messy hair down in front of it. The other seemed to cover the back of his hand.
As she ordered her second whiskey, she wondered if he would gather the courage to approach her.
He noticed her immediately when she stepped into the tavern.
She had to be at least several years his senior. And her figure, at least what figure that was revealed by her dress, appeared to be quite fit. Her brown hair was cut short, and fell just past her shoulders. And he noticed a scar running from her left eye to her lip.
He wondered how she had got it.
It certainly didn't detract from her beauty. In fact, Harry figured that if she wore different clothes and carried a sword, she would appear as a warrior goddess incarnate. It was a savage beauty, but a beauty none the less.
One he appreciated.
He studied her for a while as he drank his ale, which he was thoroughly enjoying. When she ordered her second whiskey, Harry came to a conclusion.
This was the room of requirement, and so everything in here was an illusion anyway. What would it hurt to talk to her? It wasn't as though he'd embarrass himself so much he couldn't show his face. Besides, the tavern had rooms, and if he was lucky, he could experience actual (or at least a resemblance to actual) sex.
He was a teenage boy after-all.
Finishing his ale, he waved the barkeep over. He ordered another ale, along with a whiskey, and asked for a room. Pocketing the key, he stood and picked up the ale and whiskey, carrying both over to the woman.
Jane smiled sadly as she looked down at her sleeping lover.
He may have been inexperienced, but his size, endurance, and recovery-time had made the night worth it. He was actually better than her last partner, her had been a one-hit wonder, and the hit hadn't been her own.
She felt a small pang of regret that she couldn't stay with him tonight at least. But she had to return to the covert and Excidium. Standing, she quietly gathered her clothes before dressing and leaving the room.
Harry awoke alone.
With a sigh, he smiled at the though of his first sexual interaction with a woman, even if she wasn't real.
Dressing quickly, he left the room and went down to the tavern and out the door. Upon his exit, he found his clothes returned to normal and himself back in Hogwarts. Smiling happily, Harry checked the time and was shocked to discover that only a few minutes had passed since he entered the room. Shrugging, he returned to his common room.
And though his thoughts would occasionally drift to the woman the Room of Requirement made for him, he never returned. Deciding that, while it was fun, he wanted a real relationship.
Nine months after her encounter with the young man from the tavern, Jane Roland gave birth to a healthy baby girl.
She named her Emily
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And for the record, the Room transported Harry briefly to the Temeraire universe, he just thought everything was made up if you didn't already realize this. As for why Emily is blond when neither of her parents isn't, recessive genes.
I sincerely hope you enjoyed my take on Emily's conception.