Harry Potter and the Ancient Secret of War

Author's note:

It isn't really in my style to start off with Author's note but it is necessary here. I have decide here to attach Chapter Eight and Chapter Seven together (since they share the same flow of events). So I am modifying this chapter. Besides, the visit to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes will also be chronicled. But that update might take upto Thursday. Hope you enjoy this, and don't forget to review.

Chapter Seven

Getting Back to Normal

Harry wanted to inform the Order of Emmeline Vance's murder immediately. He tried to get up from the floor, where he had involuntarily ended up sometime during the vision. But he found that he could not do so. He was tired, no that wasn't the right word, he was exhausted. Before he could try to get up one more time or call out to someone or even think about what he had to do, he found himself dropping back to bed and passing into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Harry did not hear as two hurried pair of feet entered the room and knelt down beside him. He did not know that those two persons were Lupin and Hermione. He did not hear Lupin cast the `Mobilicorpus' charm on him and transfer him to the bed. He did not feel Hermione's touch as she grasped his hand and willed him to wake up. He was trapped in dreamland, only his dreams were all filled with an unknown emptiness.

It was nearly an hour before Lupin and Hermione succeeded in waking Harry up. He looked around, with a dazed look on his face as he tried to ascertain what was happening.

Suddenly, the vision that he had earlier in the night came to Harry's mind. He got up quickly and said in a hoarse voice, “Voldemort! Voldemort killed her!”

“Who, Harry?” Lupin asked him, with a concerned look on his face.

“Emmeline…Emmeline Vance.”

“What? Are you sure?” Lupin asked him again.

Harry nodded. Lupin looked at him for a brief second while he decided what to do. He said, “I will just inform the Order about this. You two, try to get some rest.”

With that he went out of the door and disappeared downstairs. They could hear some sounds coming, as if a conversation was going on. After some time, Lupin came back up only to see Harry sleeping in his bed, while Hermione sat beside him.

Seeing Lupin, Hermione got up and asked, “What happened?”

“I informed the Headquarters about what Harry just said,” he replied, “They are going over to check on Emmeline.”

“What if this is true?” Hermione asked, with fear in her eyes.

“I don't know. I can't think about this,” Lupin replied, with his brows furrowed. “I mean I don't think even Dumbledore counted on Voldemort springing to action so quickly. I think this may mean that the war is now days away from beginning.”

“What do you mean - the war?” Hermione asked him again, “That's what all of us have been engaged in the last year or so.”

“No,” Lupin said, “That was just a prelude, I think. I am sure that the real war is going to start now. And not just with unexplained disappearances or massacres or things like that, I think maybe Voldemort has decided to come out openly.”

“In that case, we have to be careful,” Hermione said, worry clouding her hazel eyes.

“Yes,” Lupin said, “We always have to be careful, but I think you don't need to worry about this, just yet. All of you will be safe at Hogwarts. You know, it is the safest place there is.”

“And the last place you would expect Voldemort to attack,” Hermione continued from where Lupin had left off, “and hence, probably the place we should expect him to attack first.”

“Now, now Hermione,” Lupin said, “I know you are worried, but that's no need to become paranoid like Moody. I think you just need some rest. I would advise you to go back to your room and get some sleep.”

Hermione nodded as Lupin turned and made his way back downstairs, into the living room. She knew he would stay there the entire night, keeping vigil, trying to listen out for anything that might be out of the normal.

Hermione considered going back to her room, but she decided against it. She went to where Harry was sleeping and snuggled into the bed along with him. Just as she entered the bed, Harry rolled about onto his side and pulled her in tightly against him. The last thought that she had in mind before she fell asleep was how warm Harry's body felt against hers.

* * * * *

Ron rolled about in his bed that night, thinking about what had happened earlier at Hermione's house. He was carrying out an impromptu synopsis of all that was going on in his head. Normally, it was not in his nature to analyse anything. Those things were best left for Hermione, but now, at this time, he couldn't help it. He was confused, and that was saying a lot, considering that Prefect duties, Quidditch practice, homework and all such things always confused him at school.

But as he lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking out everything, Ron didn't want to think about all that. All that he thought about was what was going on. What was happening? How did things end up like this? He had no idea, but he had resolved to find that out, before the night was over.

Ron thought about all that he had shared with Harry and Hermione over the past five years. These years had been the best of his life as far as he could remember. He had not been like Harry, who had never had friends or shared his feeling with anyone in the ten years before he had come to Hogwarts. He had not even been lonely as the only child of his parents like Hermione was. He had a perfect childhood - lots of siblings, loving parents and a very happy family indeed. But somehow, the last five years, they were different.

He could not explain it. Maybe, it was because he had grown out of the shadows of his brothers and found for himself that niche, he had always sought. Maybe it was because he got two of the best friends that anyone could ever dream of in his life. Maybe it was because his friends accepted him for what he was, instead of ranting about the legacy that his elder brothers had left for him to try and emulate. Whatever, be the reason, Ron was sure that he could not imagine his life without the presence of either Harry or Hermione.

That brought him back to the present question, “How did things get to this?”

Ron knew that he should be happy today, especially after what had happened after he had come back to Grimmauld Place. His Hogwarts letter had come that day, and Ron found that he had received 9 OWLs. Okay, so that was only half of what Hermione had got, and even three less than the number Harry had managed to secure, but at least his performance was far better than the three OWLs secured by the twins. But more than the exam results, he was flattered by another note that accompanied the envelope. It read-

Dear Mr Weasley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been appointed Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor house for this year. We hope that you will take serious regard of your responsibilities as Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

Team Trials will start in the second week of term. We hope that you can take your Quidditch team to new heights after this appointment.

Sincerely yours,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress,

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Ron had never stopped to wonder why he had been appointed Quidditch captain instead of Harry. After all, he had been on the team for only one year and Harry had been on the team ever since his first year at Hogwarts, and was the youngest player to play for a Hogwarts Quidditch team in hundred years.

He had only taken in this news with glee as he gloated on the fact that he had been made Captain ahead of Harry, just like he had been made a Prefect last year. This gave him more fuel to add to the fire that was raging inside of him, as he thought of the argument they had earlier in the morning.

However, that night all these seemingly small things caught up with him. He was thinking, thinking as he had never thought before. He wondered why Hermione had chosen Harry over him, especially since Harry never had shown any interest in her, at least not in public. Then maybe, there was something in the name `Harry Potter' or the title `The Boy Who Lived' that added charisma to his persona.

Ron couldn't understand. Even though he was brought up in such a large family, even he couldn't deny that emotions were something that he did not understand and sensitivity was something that could not be associated with him. But he still tried his best to fathom the current situation.

He was shocked at what he had said to Harry, at what he had done to Hermione. He was ashamed of what he had done, but somewhere in his mind, some unknown feeling, (he put it down to his own pride) prevented him from admitting it. He thought about it, and concluded that it was his feeling that he was better than Harry. But then, he obviously was. He had been made a prefect when Harry hadn't. He had been made Quidditch captain when Harry hadn't. In fact, as far as he could remember, every time when the choice was between him and Harry, he had been chosen as the one. Except by Hermione, which confused him even more than ever.

In the end, Ron resolved to mend his friendship with his two best friends. He realized that his life at Hogwarts wouldn't be worth it, if he did not have them in his life. And then maybe, things would not work out between the two of them, and he might still have a chance to win Hermione back. With that thought, he saw a flicker of hope in the surrounding darkness and drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

The next few days passed in a pleasant blur for Harry. That morning, he had woken up to a handful of curly, light brown hair in his face. Hermione's face was inches from his own as she slept soundly, never once getting disturbed in her sleep. Harry had watched her for a long time, with the dazed and blissful look of watching an angel. And truth be told, she did look like an angel, especially since all her innocence and raw beauty came to the fore as she slept with a peaceful and contented expression on her face. Her parents were getting better with every passing moment; she had a boyfriend who happened to be her best friend, who cared for her a lot and who undoubtedly was the `love of her life'; she had scored eighteen OWLs - things were definitely starting to look up for her.

Hermione had taken to snuggling into bed with Harry each night. They did not have a physical relationship, not yet, although both of them would have admitted that such an occurrence was impossible in the circumstances that prevailed. However, despite all this, both of them had silently agreed not to make a move until they were ready, until both of them were ready. Harry, for his part, was still not sure if he loved Hermione completely in that way, and even if he did, he didn't want to leave her with something as unforgettable as this, knowing very well that there may soon be a time when he may be dead. At the present, he was satisfied with the way their relationship was evolving slowly, based on trust and understanding and not just a sudden upsurge of hormones. He had come to look at Hermione in a different light over the last few days. Ordinarily, she would've been one to control her feelings and put on a brave face in the wake of everything that had happened, but now she was more open to him. She laughed and she cried (especially when Ron was mentioned - she was still scared of him, Harry thought). She was more easy-going than usual and although everything did not stop her from studying and all the `Hermione' stuff that she did, Harry had to admit that she had somehow changed into a more relaxed and secure person, a person who he was, in all probability, beginning to love, more than as a friend.

As far as Hermione was concerned, being the sensible person that she was, she had decided long back to wait until her marriage, even if that meant waiting for years together, for her to be physically intimate with someone. It was one of her unspoken principles, that she wanted to be with one person all her life, and no other. She had wanted her first experience to be special - she had wanted it to be both emotionally and physically satisfying and although she was sure she loved Harry and that he was the only one for her, she felt that she was not ready to take that big step which would change her life for ever - at least not for the time being.

Their daily routine was pretty much the same - Hermione would visit her parents in the hospital (they were well and good but the Muggle doctor still insisted that they stay since he wanted to find out the reasons for this miracle discovery). Harry would always accompany her. Often, he would just sit in the waiting area, giving Hermione the time she needed to be alone with her parents. However, these times were not much because Bob and Julia Granger were always careful to include him in whatever they did with Hermione. Harry believed it was partly because of pity but he was still grateful for what they did.

Harry found Hermione's parents very interesting and endearing. His father, Bob, loved to joke and laugh aloud. Meanwhile, her mother, Julia, was a bit more serious, yet he could tell that she loved a good laugh as well. They had this quality of making anyone feel like one of them and Harry was really glad for that. However, one thing did startle him quite a bit. Whenever Harry had met Bob and Julia Grangers, they came across as nervous and timid persons to him. But he could see now that it was in all probability due to a fear of the magical world.

Days started to pass like this and soon, it was only a week before Harry and Hermione had to return to Hogwarts. Harry was glad that he was with Hermione, all this time, with everything that was going on. He believed that if it were not for his relationship with Hermione which was better than it had ever been and every day made it more wonderful still, it would have been for the fact that she had ensured that Harry too, like her, completed the school work well before time. She had even ordered some extra books regarding careers and was searching through them for something appropriate for her (and Harry).

For the most part, while she worked on all this, Harry would watch her, fascinated at her dedication and concentration. He had begun loving the way she bit her lip as she turned pages of the book and the way her eyebrows contracted as she thought about something she'd read.

It was the evening before the big day, when Hermione's parents would finally be discharged from hospital. Nick had jokingly told Harry the day before that he had to administer a Co-operating Potion to the doctor in charge of the Grangers' treatment so as to get him to let go of them.

Hermione was poring over a certain book regarding Healers. (She had, since the last two days, begun to pay more attention to the Healing profession than all others.) Harry was looking at her dreamily.

Suddenly Hermione looked up and saw Harry gazing at her.

“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious and wondering if there was something wrong with her appearance.

“Nothing...,” Harry began, but then with a smile on his face, continued, “It's just that…you are…you are so beautiful.”

Yes! He said it. He had wanted to say that so much for the last week or so, and he had finally said it.

“You're just flattering me,” Hermione said, with a blush, looking down into the floor.

“No,” Harry replied. “It's true…You're beautiful.”

After that, both went back to what they were doing earlier. After some time, Harry asked, “What are you going to take up when we get back to Hogwarts?”

Hermione looked up and said, “I am beginning to think quite a lot about pursuing Healing. I have read this book and a few more, and I think it really appeals to me, you know, saving people's lives, watching the joy on their faces when they come to know that their loved ones are safe…Besides, when I didn't know about being a witch, I always imagined being a doctor when I grew up. So, I think its magical counterpart is not going to be that bad either.”

Harry leant closer to her as he tried to get a proper view of the page that she had been reading. He said, “Doesn't it require a three-year course after Hogwarts?”

“Yes,” she replied, “I even talked to Nick about this yesterday and he gave me some insider stuff on all that they teach. He said that the classes are conducted at St. Mungo's, and he also told me some things about the potions and spells that are taught. I daresay that I think I will be able to manage all this.”

“You can manage anything,” Harry said, with a sincerity in his voice, that made Hermione blush bright pink.

“Anyway, the time required after Hogwarts is the same as that for an Auror. So, that means that both of us will have to study for three years after Hogwarts…That is of course, if you still want to be an Auror,” Hermione said.

“Yes, I still want to. And then after the OWLs, I am glad that I will be able to be one,” he said, “I wonder, though, what Ron will take up…”

As soon as he said this, he wished that he hadn't. At the mention of Ron's name, Hermione's expression became impassive and she went back to the book that she was reading. Nothing was said between them for the rest of the time they were in the room.

Harry sighed. The only dampener on their spirit over the holidays had been the state of their friendship with Ron. Harry was still enraged over the way Ron had treated Hermione. As for Hermione, she felt scared of Ron, she felt scared of the way he'd reacted. She still needed some time to recover from the shock and in the meantime, both she and Harry made conscious efforts not to let their conversations or memories veer onto anything connected remotely to Ron. It was really difficult, since Ron was a part of both of them, and as such, occasional slip-ups did occur, which usually resulted in silence. Hermione knew that running away like this from the problem wasn't a solution, but for the first time in her life, she was happy to just ignore an impending issue.

That night, as they were downstairs for dinner (Tonks was with them), Harry asked Tonks, “Do you think Dumbledore will give his permission to visit Diagon Alley?”

Tonks said mildly, “Why?” (She was still preoccupied with her food.)

“Well,” Harry began, “I needed to buy some things there.”

Tonks looked up from her plate and said, “Like?”

“Like robes, parchment, potions equipment, quills, ink. And yes, I have to take some money out from my Gringotts vault as well,” Harry said, rolling his eyes, “Honestly, Tonks, the way you talk anyone would believe that I was a nine year old.”

“Sorry Harry,” Tonks said sheepishly, “But you know it is my job to ask. They assigned me to look after both of you for no reason. Anyway, I don't think your visit to Diagon Alley will be a problem with Dumbledore. After all, what can go wrong with a streetful of wizards to look after you. Anyway, when do you want to go?”

“I think day after tomorrow will be good. Tomorrow, if you can manage it,” Harry replied.

“And Hermione?” Tonks asked. Hermione looked at Tonks as she said her name, “Will you be going too?”

“I think I will,” Hermione replied, “My parents won't be able to this year, so obviously I will need to visit Gringotts.”

“Okay then,” Tonks said, “I will ask Dumbledore. I don't think it will be a problem. But for now, I think we should return to our food.”

With that, she began ploughing all the food in her plate into her mouth, not unlike the way Ron usually did. Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes at her and went back to their own food, albeit in a far more civilized manner.

After dinner, Tonks asked them what they were going to do. Harry wanted to sleep, but Hermione insisted that they should complete the last remnants of their holiday work that night itself. It was a nasty Potions essay on `Safeguards to be Taken While Brewing Advanced Potions'. Snape had set this essay, saying that he wanted a roll of parchment from each student, irrespective of whether they would be `admitted' to the NEWT classes for Potions; since he did not want anyone's foolishness or ignorance dent his reputation as a teacher.

Neville had positively squeaked at this declaration. Although his fear of Snape had considerably diminished since the OWLs and the events at the Department of Mysteries, the venom that Snape had packed into the remark was enough to make him the old Neville, one more time.

While Hermione were poring over `Wizard's Guide to Advanced Potions' written by Jeremy Wizardsmith, later that night to find some suitable material for the essay, Harry looked up from another book that he was reading and said, “Hermione?”

“Huh?” came the reply.

“I was just wondering,” Harry began, “since we will both be going to Diagon Alley together, if we could make it a date.”

Hermione looked up from the book that she was reading and stared at Harry. After a moment, her face broke into this big, wide smile and she said, “It's a date, Harry.”

And with that, Harry felt his heart rising within his chest. Clearly, he was starting to fall for Hermione.

* * * * *

Harry and Hermione made ready to go to Diagon Alley, the day after next. Tonks had informed them of Dumbledore's permission for the visit. Personally, Harry couldn't have cared less for himself. His trust for Dumbledore had received a major setback even since Sirius' death. He had decided to visit Diagon Alley by himself, irrespective of whether Dumbledore agreed or not. However, he couldn't deny that the ancient wizard's permission made him feel a whole lot better, especially now that Hermione was coming along.

It was against such a backdrop that Harry and Hermione flooed from a shop nearby to the Leaky Cauldron. (It was the same fireplace that Ron had used a few weeks earlier). They were told that it was owned by a wizard, who had `ethically' decided to renounce magic. Hermione had snorted at this, saying that if it was indeed, the case, why on earth, had he still maintained a Floo connection. Still, Harry was glad that there was a way to reach Diagon Alley within a short time. Although he hated travelling by Floo powder, Harry couldn't deny that it was the only way he could spend the maximum possible time in Diagon Alley with Hermione.

Lupin accompanied them to the shop and watched them go. Harry was personally glad to see Lupin, even though he looked a bit worn out. He had been especially worried about his old teacher and friend during the past few days, since a full moon had just passed.

Harry was the first to step into the fire and was afterwards, followed by Hermione. He took a handful of Floo powder and (fortunately) shouted out the name of the Leaky Cauldron clearly. He was greeted at the other end by the toothy grin of Tom, the landlord of the inn.

“Hello there, Harry! Are you alright?” Tom asked as he helped Harry on to his feet. Harry had never mastered the `art' of travelling by Floo powder and this time was no exception either as he found himself on the floor instead of on his feet.

“Got the message from Dumbledore yesterday. Told me to look out for both of you, you know, both you and Miss Granger,” Tom continued, with a hint of pride in his voice, which clearly stemmed from the personal request made to him by the greatest wizard alive, so as to ensure the protection of `The Boy Who Lived'. Harry, however, was not impressed.

But he was interrupted in his musings (and fortunately saved from further talk by Tom) at that precise moment as the fireplace burst into life once more and Hermione stepped through smoothly and elegantly, into the confines of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry couldn't admire her more. Even though she still didn't like flying which Harry thought was a hell lot easier than this, she travelled by Floo powder as if she had done that all her life.

`Trust Hermione to do make difficult things easy and easy things difficult,' Harry thought with a light smile lingering at the corners of his mouth.

“Welcome, Miss Granger! Long time no see!” Tom greeted her as if he had just met a very old friend. This was starting to really affect Harry's nerves. But relief came over him when Tom said, “Well, must go back to the pub now. Great business today! Can't afford to wait a moment longer! I think you two should hurry up as well. You don't have all day, you know. Dumbledore told to send you back before seven.”

With that, he left both Harry and Hermione alone. They walked towards the opening to the secret wizarding marketplace. Harry tapped the wall three times with his wand and the bricks parted, revealing before them the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Diagon Alley was just as Harry remembered - a streetful of wizards where you want to go everywhere and anywhere - as Sirius had told him last year when they had had a chance to speak of lighter matters (for once). Harry tried desperately not to think about all that. He offered his hand to Hermione, who laced her fingers through his and they made their way up the crooked street towards a white building shining in the distance. It was the Gringotts Wizard Bank. Both Harry and Hermione passed the goblins at the entrance, without second thoughts (or, looks for that matter) and made their way back to one of the counters.

While Harry was accompanied by a goblin (his name was Griphook, Harry remembered him as the one who had taken him to his vault for the first time, but Griphook did not show any sign of recognition). Meanwhile, Hermione was exchanging Muggle money into galleons and sickles. It was indeed fortunate that Gringotts didn't worry about underage wizards carrying out their transactions, otherwise it would have been a bother for both of them.

Half an hour later, Harry stood outside Gringotts, waiting for Hermione, who had told him to wait outside for a moment. Since this had happened at the time they were passing by the watchgoblin at the entrance, Harry had a sneaking suspicion about what she was going to do. After about two minutes, Hermione came skipping down the steps, seemingly very happy.

“What?” she asked, as Harry stood there, looking critically at her, his brows furrowed.

“Hermione,” he replied, “Please tell me that whatever you did back there was not concerned with SPEW.”

“It isn't SPEW, it is S.P.E.W. - Society for Promotion of Elfish Welfare,” she argued.

“Yeah, yeah but at least you could change the name,” Harry said in a resigned tone.

“Don't speak like Ron,” she said without thinking and immediately after realizing that she had mentioned Ron, her face quickly fell and she became grim.

A similar change came over Harry's countenance. Although he knew how much Ron was a part of their lives, he wasn't ready to forgive him for what he'd done to Hermione, not yet. However, he soon regained his composure.

“Come, now for our date, and I pay for everything,” he said and taking her hand, led the way.

Hermione gave him a watery sort of a smile and followed. Still, things did get better and more enjoyable as the day passed.

Their first stop was Madam Malkin's robes for All Occasions'. Harry had to buy some new robes, as did Hermione. Hermione modelled the designs for him.

“How do I look?” she asked as she stood before him, wearing the newest design.

“Wonderful!” Harry replied, his gaze fixed on her face, instead of on her robes.

“Harry!” Hermione said disapprovingly, “Each time I've asked you for your opinion, you've said `wonderful' and nothing else. You are not even looking.”

“What's there to look?” Harry said dreamily, “You look wonderful in whatever you wear.”

“Boys!” Hermione gave an exasperated sigh as she said this loudly, shaking her head. However, she could not help but feel pleased as she walked back towards the changing area.

“Excuse me! It's men,” Harry called out after her.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Men!” Hermione rolled her eyes to herself as she shouted back.

Twenty minutes later, it was Harry's turn as Madam Malkin herself took up his case. He had just fallen asleep, wondering why women took so long to pick out a simple robe for the school, when he had been woken by a very amused-looking Hermione.

Hermione then had a long discussion with Madam Malkin regarding how she wanted Harry's robes to be made (Harry, of course, was completely oblivious to all that was being discussed). Now, the elderly witch was pinning the measuring robe accordingly.

“I didn't know you were so deep into fashion,” Harry said. “Ow!” he winced. One of the pins had just pricked him in the midriff.

“Sorry!” Madam Malkin said apologetically but sternly, “However, I must admit, Mr Potter that it would, indeed, be a great help if you stopped moving and stood still for a moment. This'll take only a minute and I don't think I need to tell a sixteen year old wizard that.”

Hermione burst into laughter as she heard this, while Harry stood still. He had turned a bright crimson, at being chided at by the elderly witch.

“So you didn't answer my question,” Harry said, as he sat down beside Hermione, waiting for his robes to be made ready.

“What?” she asked absentmindedly, as she pored over the catalogue of dress robes of various designs.

“I'd asked you since when have you had such an interest in fashion,” he said.

Hermione looked up from the catalogue to see his emerald green eyes dancing merrily, as they looked at her. She replied, “Just because I don't flaunt something doesn't mean that I don't have a healthy interest in it. It's only the first time that I have used my knowledge though. You know, drawbacks of having a completely clueless boyfriend.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her and was about to retort, when a witch came out and handed over their packages. Harry paid for both of them (at least he tried to) but Hermione insisted on paying for her robes herself. (“No you don't,” she said, “This is my uniform.”) So, Harry contented himself with passing on the money she handed him over to the witch on the cash counter. That meant he would have to think of something else to give her as a gift.

“You know, I think we should pay a visit to Fred and George's shop now,” Harry said as they made their way from Madam Malkin's shop, “After all, I am still their financial backer, you know.”

“No, I'd rather not go,” Hermione said firmly.

“Why?” Harry inquired. “I heard they have gone for every possible protection charm to protect their establishment. Ginny told me personally at Mrs Figg's.”

“Many things can happen,” Hermione replied, “Knowing Fred and George…” she trailed off as she visibly shuddered.

“I don't know why you are so afraid of those two,” Harry teased her, “They are our friends, after all.”

“Yes, they are,” Hermione said, “And I'm not afraid of them, I am just…I just am worried of what they might be up to.”

“But you've always succeeded in controlling them. Remember, last year in the common room?”

“Only too well,” Hermione replied, “But that was different, that was back at Hogwarts. There I had the option of threatening them with telling Mrs Weasley. She knows now and I do not have that luxury anymore.”

“And?” Harry asked, looking on amused and willing her to continue at the same time.

“Remember what they did at the party?” Hermione continued, “Who do you think was their number one target with the ghost lines?”

“Neville,” Harry replied, not knowing where she was getting to.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “But the thing is, I sort of manipulated Neville so that he'd be the target and not me.”

“Don't tell me,” Harry groaned, “How could you?”

“I was just a little scared,” she said, “I think they are still trying to pull off some pranks on me.” She added the last part with a nervous twinge to her voice.

“Hey,” Harry complained, “And I thought you were a Gryffindor!”

“I am…it's just that…” she began uncertainly, not willing to meet his eyes.

“No, you're obviously not,” he said, “Otherwise, you wouldn't be chickening out on this. Hell, you're just going to meet your friends and you go on ranting about them trying to get back at you.”

“Fine!” she snapped. “But let's just make it the last and the shortest stop.”

“Bravo!” Harry tried to control his laughter at the sight of an unnerved Hermione. “That's my girl!”

“But mind well, Potter!” she threatened him, “If I get even one prank pulled up on me, you will have to pay for it.”

Harry grinned at her and going close to her, whispered in her ear, “Anytime, Miss Granger, anytime.”

* * * * *

Thereafter, Hermione dragged Harry to Flourish and Blotts. It was probably the first time that Hermione had ever been recognised before the famous Harry Potter. The owner of the shop had personally come forward to attend to their needs (or to Hermione's needs, to be more precise). Hermione bought book after book and Harry just followed her around. She had told him that these were books that she would not be able to find at Hogwarts - they dealt with very advanced Healing. Finally, while she was busy with the billing, Harry's eyes saw it - a dark grey coloured book with seemingly yellow pages. He went near it and took it in his hands. It read in thin, golden letters - `THE ANCIENT SECRET OF WAR'.

Harry did not know why he wanted that book so badly, it was as if something unknown inside him was telling him to do so. He had never so much as bought another book for what Hermione would call `light reading' (that of course, if you could discount the Quidditch magazines and manuals he had or the Defense books he was given by Lupin last Christmas).

He thought of telling Hermione, but decided against it. He went out and told her, “Can you please wait a minute?” She nodded, and promptly went off to scan another part of the bookstore.

Harry turned to the store owner and asked, “Mr….?”

“Greenwitch. May I help you, Mr…?”

Harry was stunned. Did this man not know his name? To Harry, it was a welcome relief that somebody in the wizarding world did not recognise him. Then he remembered that it had been three years since he'd last appeared in the book store and hence, maybe the owner did not recognise him.

“Potter,” Harry replied.

“Ah yes! Now I remember! Thought I'd seen you before!” His eyes lingered upon the edge of Harry's bangs where he hid his famous scar.

“Mr Greenwitch, I was just wondering whether you could help me with something.”

“Sure, Mr Potter.”

“Actually, I want to buy this book,” Harry said, bringing up the book from underneath his armpit. “But I want it delivered by evening post today, to Hermione's address. Think you can manage that?”

Mr Greenwitch nodded. He said, “You want it to be sent to Miss Granger?”

“No,” Harry replied, “I want it in my name.”

“You are staying with Miss Granger, I suppose,” Mr Greenwitch asked. It was Harry's turn to nod this time.

“Well, I daresay that can be managed. Anyways, we have to send some new books to the same address tonight,” he said.

“No, no,” Harry shook his head. “I want this book to be sent separately. You know what I mean.” He looked meaningfully at the store owner.

He nodded. He took the package from Harry and kept it on the table. He looked once at the book and said, “You know, Mr Potter, I know every book that we keep here at Flourish and Blotts, and your choice, to me, is indeed, a strange one. This is an ancient bookstore started by my grandfather and although I must admit I've never opened this text, I know that this has been here ever since the store was opened. But no one has ever bought it before. Are you really sure then that you want to buy it?”

“Yes, please,” Harry said testily, making sure that he conveyed his desire not to answer any more questions that might be directed at him.

“Very well then,” Mr Greenwitch replied, “Will you be paying for this in advance or upon delivery?”

“Now please.” Harry replied.

* * * * *

“Hermione, can I say something?” Harry asked as they exited Flourish and Blotts. Harry was now holding the huge packages that contained Hermione's books.

She nodded at his question.

“Next time we go out,” he said, “please try not to leave me alone.”

Hermione blushed. She muttered, “Sorry about that, Harry, but you know, when I walk into a bookstore…” she trailed off and Harry picked up from where she'd left.

“…when you walk into a bookstore, you cannot stop yourself from running to the nearest shelf and scanning through all those heavy volumes, yeah, I know,” Harry said as Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

“So what do you say about lunch?” Harry asked her. “I must say I'm starving with all this stuff that you've made me carry.”

“Stuff I made you carry?” Hermione said faintly and shook her head in disbelief, “It wouldn't be so if you didn't insist upon being so chivalrous. Stuff I made you carry! Honestly!” She rolled her eyes at Harry.

They continued their good-natured banter as they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. Once there, Harry was met with great relief as Tom agreed to keep their packages safe till such time when they were to return to the Granger home.

After lunch, Harry and Hermione went back to Diagon Alley. It was a warm afternoon and Harry was thankful that he had chosen to wear plain Muggle clothing instead of normal wizarding clothes. Admittedly, it did grow stifling hot underneath those heavy layers of robes.

Even as they walked into the Apothecary for replenishing their potions supply, they ran into Neville who was hurrying off somewhere.

“Oi Neville!” Harry cried out as Neville literally ran right into him, “Watch where you are going!”

“Sorry Harry,” Neville apologised, “By the way, nice to see you. You too, Hermione.”

Neville smiled at them both. It was quite clear that he had changed a bit ever since they had last met at Hogwarts. To Harry, it seemed that he was a lot more relaxed and cheerful than usual (although that did not mean an extrovertly confident guy, by any means).

“Hermione, how are your parents?” Neville asked her.

“Fine! They'll be home in a couple of days,” she replied.

“So, what are you doing here?” Harry asked Neville, “and how is your grandmother?”

Harry, Ron and Hermione had grown very close with Ginny, Luna and Neville ever since the night in the Department of Mysteries. The adventures that they had shared and the chaos that they survived had firmly cemented their friendship.

“I just came to buy some dung beetles and unicorn hair,” Neville replied, “”My gran told me to bring some when I go home tonight.”

“What? Isn't she here?” Hermione asked, absentmindedly spilling some of the powdered asphodel that she was examining closely. The store owner, however, saw this and cleaned it up with a wave of his wand.

“No,” Neville replied, “Actually, I've taken a summer job at Fred and George's.” Neville tried not to look too embarrassed as he said this and Harry suspected that there was something more going on than that met the eye.

“Well, I'll get going then,” Neville said as he paid his bill. “Shall I tell everyone the twins that you too will be coming over soon?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, ignoring Hermione's rather pleading expression. “Tell them we'll be there in about an hour or so.”

“What?” he asked as Neville departed and Hermione held his gaze.

“You could have made an excuse,” she said, a hint of accusation in her voice.

“Hermione!” Harry said exasperatedly, “You promised.”

“Fine!” she snapped at him. No words were spoken as they silently paid the bill and left the apothecary.

* * * * *

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