Disclaimer: Harry Potter, characters, and all related names and phrases are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. and/or their respective owners. This is a fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended.
"You never did tell me why you gave her that ring."
Harry waited a few minutes before looking up from his piece of parchment. How he hated Potions.
"Hmm?" he asked.
Ron Weasley gave an impatient sigh, sitting up and facing Harry squarely. They both sat in the common room, Harry working on his Potions assignment, Ron working on his Divination.
"The ring, Harry, the ring. What possessed you?" he asked again.
Harry rolled his eyes, something he had been doing quite often around Ron lately. Months had passed since Christmas, and Ron was still having the same fits...demanding to know why Harry had given Hermione such an "important" ring.
"Did you want one too, Ron?" Harry teased.
"Don't be such a prat, Harry. I just don't understand it, is all." Then he added in an undertone, "is there something going on between you two?"
Harry arched a brow. "Now who's being the prat?" he muttered.
"Well...you have to admit it looks a little suspicious. I suppose you'd tell me if there was something going on, though," Ron added.
Harry tried not to look guilty.
"Of course I would, not that it matters. Nothing is going on. Nothing has been, nor will there be anything going on. Would you drop it? This is Hermione we're talking about," Harry said, doing his best impression of sounding aghast.
"Fine...but you do know about the ring, don't you, Harry?" Ron asked.
"What about it?" Harry asked.
"Well... it's the Friendship ring...don't tell me you gave it to her without at least having some idea about it," Ron said, his blue eyes widening with shock.
"Er...of course not," Harry stammered, suddenly looking very worried.
"You are such a dolt!!" Ron hissed.
"Shh...keep it down Ron...I had the ring custom made. There's nothing to worry about," Harry reassured his red-haired, freckled friend. But he didn't sound as sure about it as he once did. Ron obviously knew something that he did not.
"Sorry to tell you, Harry, but the Friendship ring is one-of-a-kind. You can't have it custom made," Ron told him, confirming Harry's worried thoughts.
"But...I did..." Harry tried to argue.
The truth was, he couldn't prove that it was custom made. He had asked for it, and when the jeweler said it was too rare and didn't have it, nor did he have any idea where it was, Harry had requested it to be made. Now that he thought about it, how could such a ring be made in a weeks time?
The original, which apparently was so rare, took years to construct. No one knew the true powers of the ring, they only knew that it was supposed to protect a loved one. The one who carried the ring linked her or him to the one that it had been disposed from.
"Well then, what do you know about it?" Harry asked quietly, so no other students could hear what they were talking about.
Ron lowered his voice dramatically.
"There's a myth that a woman, many years ago, was cursed. Her spirit was placed in the Friendship ring. Only until a pair came across it, a pair so pure and in love, could release her spirit within. There's more to it, but no one really knows. Apparently the spirit within the ring is what protects ...well in this case it would be Hermione. It's amazing that you came across it really. That's why it's suspicious about you two..."
"So you're saying that there's a spirit inside Hermione's ring waiting to be released?" Harry asked.
Ron nodded furiously.
"What happens if she isn't released?" Harry ventured.
"Ah, well" Ron looked a little uncomfortable. "It's a myth really. Like I said. But if that happens, then well...Hermione could die..." Ron trailed off.
They both suddenly felt very foolish. What a thing to say...Hermione die. They both secretly shuddered.
"Well, lucky it's just a myth. Well then, how do you suppose she'd be released?" Harry asked.
Ron only shrugged. "That's the mystery as well. It's said that there are three keys to the ring...in order ..."
Ron continued but Harry wasn't listening. Three keys? It was just like the dream. The soft, misty voice pleading with him...he had had the dream more than a few times now. It didn't necessarily haunt him, but it had a very firm effect all the same.
"So anyway, do you suppose Sirius will be looking for a house to live in now?" Ron asked, changing the subject.
Harry grinned and nodded. "Yeah...we both have never been more excited to find a home. I'll be looking with him," Harry said, thinking back to the very first month of the new year.
The Daily Prophet had cleared all and any charges against Sirius Black and steadily, but surely, wizards and witches all over began to trust and like Sirius again. It made Harry slightly angry, thinking that people closest to him had accused him outright, and as soon as his name had been cleared, they suddenly acted innocent, as though they had never believed that he had done something so horrid, and had believed him to be innocent the all throughout his imprisonement.
The anger didn't last long, however, because then Harry's mind would drift to the home he would be heading to this summer. No more Dursleys. It was more than he could ever hope for. He finally had the family he wanted. Sirius would become the father Harry never had.
Thinking of that also made Harry think of Peter Pettigrew. He was now in Azkaban, serving a lifetime imprisonment. It was then that Harry wondered what kind of life he would have if he had just let Sirius and his former professor, Remus Lupin, kill Pettigrew when they had the chance. He didn't venture along these thoughts for long though, because the present was far too important to him. He was far too anxious for his own good.
"We're going to Hogsmeade tomorrow to meet Sirius. Wanna come?" Harry asked.
"We? You and Hermione?" Ron asked, his blue eyes focusing intently on Harry's own green ones.
"Don't make it sound like that. How many times to I have to tell you..." Harry warned.
"Hey...I didn't say anything," Ron said defensively, putting a hand up to stop Harry from saying more. "Sure I'll come. Haven't been there in a while," Ron added to himself as he turned back to his assignment.
Harry followed suite, though his mind was locked on Hermione.
She would die? Was it really a myth? Ron was convinced that that was all it was, but then again, Ron hadn't been having the same dreams as Harry. Was their love really enough to release the spirit? There was no question that he loved her deeply, but there was still the uncertainty of how she felt about him. He secretly wondered how many hands had fallen to the Friendship ring? How many lovers had ceased to exist because their love wasn't pure enough? How in the world did Harry, at age 16, soon to be 17, fall upon the mysterious ring?
All these questions and more rolled around Harry's mind like small round stones...thumping and rolling around against each other, making his head pound with the beginnings of a headache. The only thing that got him through the rest of the day was the fact that he would be visiting his godfather the following day. Besides finding alone time with Hermione, it was excitement at its best.
"Hello, Mr Potter, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, " greeted Madam Rosmerta as the two wizards and one witch stepped into the Three Broomsticks.
"Good afternoon, Madam Rosmerta," greeted Harry enthusiastically. The warm weather that normally came with the beginnings of spring only added to Harry's excitement.
"You're late, Potter," greeted Sirius Black, already seated in the far corner, having saved them a round table with four wooden chairs to match. They all took their seats and Hermione offered to go get them some Butterbeer.
"Sorry about that, Sirius. Ron slept in," Harry told him, grinning.
Ron's mouth dropped.
"You filthy liar," he hissed. "Then how was it that I ended up dragging you out of bed?" Ron demanded.
Sirius only laughed along with Harry as Ron continued to look defensive.
"Thank you, dear," Sirius said as Hermione returned with four mugs of delicious hot Butterbeer.
"Can't get enough of these, I can't," Ron murmured into his mug before taking a long gulp.
"Sick," Hermione said, gawking at Ron as he inhaled half his mug.
"Ahhh..." Ron sighed contentedly, slamming his mug down onto the table.
"Anyway, Harry. I think I've found the perfect place, but of course I won't know that until you've seen it," Sirius said, turning to his godson.
Harry's mood brightened (which couldn't have been that much more, because he was already bouncing off his seat with quiet excitement).
"Where is it?" he asked.
The three others laughed, enjoying Harry's enthusiasm. His two friends were very happy for him, and couldn't wait for Harry to move into the home he deserved.
"Actually, I've been talking a lot with Arthur Weasley, " he said glancing at Ron as his eyes widened.
"I told him not to say anything because I wanted to keep this a bit of a surprise. There's a house just down the road from the Weasleys. It's a three bedroom, two floor, large kitchen, family room with a fire place, two bathrooms, a large back yard and front yard. There's also a rec room, which I thought we could turn into a study, and the third bedroom can be used, of course, for guests..." Sirius stopped talking, because the look on Harry's face started to worry him.
"You all right, Harry?" he asked, his dark eyes darkening even more with concern.
Harry just kept staring, and though they couldn't tell, he was really fighting off tears. He was absolutely speechless.
A home. A real home. And Sirius would be living with him. He had known this for a few years now, had waited patiently. But he had no idea that this was what it would feel like when the actual day came. It seemed so surreal to him that he could have the home he always wanted. Down the road from the Weasleys no less.
He suddenly realized that everyone was staring at him and he snapped out of his reverie instantly.
"It sounds perfect," he choked out, reaching under his glasses to wipe away the beginnings of a tear.
Sirius beamed at his godson, knowing just how he felt. He owed so much to Harry, and his two friends. He felt that he would never have enough time to make it all up to them.
"There's more good news," he said, now beaming with a proud kind of happiness.
"More...Oh I don't think I can handle this," Harry said, his eyes red from being rubbed free of tears.
"I owe a lot to your father, Ron. He's gotten me a job at the Ministry. Seems his partner, as old as he is, finally retired. You're looking at his new partner," Sirius said.
Hermione gasped with delight and quickly ran over to give the older wizared a congratulatory hug.
"Leave it to my father to do something this great. I'm very happy for you, Sirius," Ron said, also smiling broadly.
Harry only stared at his godfather in awe. Could things possibly get any better?
Wait, yes they could, he thought as he glanced at his secret girlfriend. She met his eyes and gave him a special smile, one reserved just for him. His heart gave a light flutter, wondering if it was possible if Hermione could or would ever love him. Then he thought about the ring, and suddenly hoped that she could, for the sake of her own life. He had kept the dreams and the conversation he had with Ron to himself, not wanting Hermione to worry too much. She already had enough on her plate, what with Voldemort and everything.
"Could things possibly get any better?" Harry asked, voicing his first thoughts exactly. Everyone at the table laughed with Harry, each and every last one giddy from the butterbeer, and thrilled for Harry and Sirius.
Even now, Harry seriously doubted that even Voldemort could take away this feeling.
To Be Continued...