Forest Scene

This is my second fic (the first one will be posted here after I finish this one). I hope you enjoy it!
A very kind reviewer has told me the chapter appears as one big long page without line breaks. It shows properly divided in paragraphs in my computer though: does anyone else have this problem? What can I do to correct this? I'm new to Portkey (not as a reader, though), so any help will be appreciated. Thanks!

Like she had done the previous five years, Professor McGonagall was asking the Gryffindors wether they were staying at Hogwarts for Christmas or not. Unlike ever before, though, Harry was not going to sign up this time. Mrs. Weasley had long ago owled Ron ordering him to invite Harry to spend the holidays over at the Burrow. However, when Professor McGonagall stopped by him, and he explained this to her, she pursed her lips tighter than usual, something Harry recognized as a sure sign of disaster ahead.

"I'm afraid you'll have to ask permission from the Headmaster to leave school grounds, Potter. You must remember that your security is still an issue."

So in the afternoon of the final day before winter break started, Harry found himself entering Professor Dumbledore's office, to which he now knew the entry password, as the old Headmaster would always inform him when it changed. He was a little worried but hopeful: surely Dumbledore would understand how important it was for him to spend these days with the few people that he was close to. However, Dumbledore flat-out refused to let him go.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but you know there are only so few places where you can be safe, and the Burrow isn't one of them - no isolated place, either from the muggle or the wizarding world, will do. Only Hogwarts, the Order's headquarters and your aunt and uncle's home are safe for you. Maybe if there was a guard protecting you, but most members of the Order are busy now guarding key places, and I can't ask the rest of them to sacrifice their Christmas plans for you, Harry. Maybe if you asked me to go to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, where at least there are plenty of our kind around to keep things under control... I'm sorry, Harry."

So it was with a heavy heart that Harry had told Ron that he wouldn't be able to go after all. With Hermione going back home to spend the holidays with her parents and also help Hagrid deal with some issues with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in London, this would be the first Christmas, since he had entered Hogwarts, he'd spend away from his friends.

In the end, Harry had had to say goodbye to Ron and Hermione when they took the Knight Bus home from Hogsmeade, and made his way back to the castle, wishing winter break was already over rather than just beginning. Sure, there was the feast and the gifts, but without the two people closet to him, he wasn't looking forward to that.

...

The following days were rather dull for Harry, as his best friends had gone and he wasn't feeling much like dealing with anyone else. Though it had been half a year already, the death of Sirius kept weighing him down. And it was impossible for him not to remember that it was now a whole year since he'd seen his godfather happy for the last time, as they all cellebrated Mr. Weasley's recovery at the Order's Headquarters.

There were plenty of people around though, and Harry tried to at least keep himself busy. He even held a DA meeting in the Room of Requirement, on the afternoon before Christmas eve. With only a quarter of its members present, it was still more crowded than it had been the previous year; a lot of people had joined them now that it was no longer a secret society. Once word had gone out that six DA members had fought mano-a-mano with a dozen Death Eaters, and with Voldemort's return being official, almost everybody not in Slytherin (and even some of them) had wanted in. The meetings for such a large crowd had been hell to schedule, but so far they had managed by splitting the DA in different age groups, with Harry supervising them all - something that took most of his free time.

They had an exhausting duel practice and, when everybody was too tired to continue and had started leaving, Harry saw Cho walk out on her own (her friend Marietta had never come back to the DA, something everybody else was glad of). He couldn't help but think of this same time a year ago, when they had kissed for the first time, but the memory didn't make him feel annoyed or even sad. He had ceased caring about this a long time ago, in the wake of Sirius' death, and during all these months he had treated her just like everybody else. She was still a little stiff when addressing him, but other than that there were no signs they had ever been more than just schoolmates.

In the end, everyone had left except for Harry and Luna, who had taken to staying behind and helping him, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville to clean up after the practices. Since they rest had all gone home for the holidays, it was just the two of them now. Harry hadn't asked, but he was sure that Luna's father had gone out of the country in search for the Crumpled-Horned-Spectacled-whatever monster he was after now. They took their time putting everything in place. It was possible not to do so - after all, the Room of Requirement could take care of things by itself - but the list of things the DA needed for practice had grown so long and complex that they had realized it was better this way. The Room could 'remember' the way it had been during their last session, and they only had to keep asking for new stuff without having to worry about missing something.

In this particular meeting, they had requested some christmassy decoration and now they had to remove it. Harry found himself standing on a long-legged stool, trying to extricate the mistletoe that had been hung on the hanging lamps on the middle of the room, thinking about how pointless that was - no one ever kissed in this room anymore. Most of last year's blooming couples had vanished, or so it seemed. At least, Cho had dumped Michael Cormer, and Dean Thomas and Ginny had also broken up, not even a week ago. He was distracted from his ramblings when he realized Luna was standing next to him, her arms full of magically glowing baubles and ribbons.

"I'm done," she said while looking at him with her big, dreamy eyes. "Oooh... mistletoe... just like last year, remember, Harry?"

He did remember. "You think it's infested with Nargles?" he asked, in what he hoped sounded like an off-hand voice. To his surprise, though, Luna started giggling. "What's so funny?" he asked, frowning a little.

"Oh, Harry," she said while throwing the decorations in a big box, where they promptly vanished, and sitting in one of the many cushions of the room. "There are no such things as Nargles."

Finally disengaging the mistletoe from the lamp, Harry jumped down onto the floor and threw it on the box, which he then made dissappear with a wave of his wand. "What do you mean - why do you say that then, last year?"

Still giggling, she replied: "Isn't it obvious, Harry? Oh... I guess not. Well, I hope you don't get offended by this, but I just didn't want you to kiss me that time."

He had not seen this coming. He stared at her, sitting on the cushion with her legs crossed and wearing that ever-lengthening butterbeer corks necklace. "And what do you mean by that?," he asked, raising his voice a bit.

She smiled and pushed a second cushion his way. Glaring at her, he sat down on it.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Harry, it's just you're not my type. Oh, don't put that face - you never liked me that way either so there's no harm done," she said with a lingering smile.

"Er - right, I guess," said Harry, blushing a little. He'd never expected every girl in Hogwarts to like him, including Luna, but this had caught him unexpectedly. Being told that you are not their type by someone who usually has radishes hanging from her earlobes... Harry stopped himself there; that wasn't fair to her. He'd realized, back last year, that there was much more in Luna Lovegood than what your eyes could see.

"So what exactly is your type?," he asked, having calmed down somewhat.

She looked at him with that dreamy expression he had gotten so used to. "That, Harry, is not for you to know, not now anyways." And again, she started giggling madly. Which, Harry thought, was kind of out of nowhere and did nothing to help her image. But just as suddenly as she had started, she stopped and stared at him seriously, her eyes looking even bigger than usually. "She's not your type, though," she said.

Again, Harry found himself unprepared for this. "Who?" he asked cluelessly.

"I noticed you staring at Cho just a while earlier, Harry," she replied. "And again, don't get offended by this, but you aren't her type either," she added as she started playing with her bizarre-looking earings.

"B - but - you don't know - " stammered Harry. He stared at her, his mouth open, until he managed to arrange his thoughts somewhat. "I don't even like her anymore. I mean, I don't hate her or anything but... you know. I don't think I even care about her, or anyone, like that," he finished simply.

"Oh, but I think you do, Harry. You just don't know it yet," she said off-handedly.

For the third time in mere minutes, Harry was feeling at the same time at a loss for words and with an urge to say something. This is the problem with Luna, he thought, you never know what's going on in that mind of hers, and then she drops these bombs on you...

"What are you talking about, Luna? I don't - who do you think I like?" This time, his voice wasn't so calm.

She considered him for a moment. "That's not for me to tell you, then. You'll find out eventually, Harry, because you already know. You are just in denial, but you can't keep yourself from the truth, you know?"

With that she stood up and left Harry sitting alone, trying to work out what she'd meant. Finally, he gave up, thinking that what Luna said didn't always make sense. He left the room too, only to find himself facing a panting Professor McGonagall, muttering something about there being too many stairs at Hogwarts.

"Here you are, Potter. You are to come with me to the Gryffindor tower to pick up some things, and then we'll be going to the Headmaster's office."

And so they did. Soon they had picked up a confused Harry's dress robes and were walking towards the Dumbledore's office and entering the room Harry knew only too well by now. But it wasn't the old wizard the one who greeted them there.

"Hello, Harry!" said Lupin, smiling as he shook his hand. Lupin's clothes looked in a better state than ever before, not so shabby anymore. In the months following Umbridge's fall from grace, some of the legislation she had inspired had been changed, and Lupin had finally been able to get a job giving Ministry-sponsored Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts classes to adult wizards, as part of the efforts the Ministry of Magic was making to protect witches and wizards everywhere from Lord Voldemort.

"Hi, Remus." Lupin had insisted on being called by his first name now that he was no longer their teacher. "What are you doing here?" asked Harry, puzzled.

"Well, word got to me that you weren't happy spending Chrismas here, so I made some arrangements. We're going to a little party with some people you know."

"A party? Where?" said Harry, who was still surprised but nonetheless excited now that he knew he was in for something... well, for something better than he would have had at Hogwarts.

"At the Leaky Cauldron, we rented a party room there. But I think we should hurry, you still need to get ready."

"Why - what's with the formal dress? Who's going to be there?" asked Harry, now a little nervous.

"Oh - that - nobody, Harry, we just thought it'd be fun. Well, actually, Tonks did." Lowering his voice so that Professor McGonagall wouldn't hear, he added "Women, you know, they like this sort of stuff..."

Professor McGonagall seemed to have heard him though, and she let out a quiet "hem, hem" fake cough that started Harry and then almost made him laugh. Smiling again, Luping walked to Dumbledore's fireplace and lighted the magical floo-powder fire.

"Well then, Remus, we'll see you at the meeting next friday. Enjoy yourself! You too, Harry," said Professor McGonagall, who would of course stay at Hogwarts with the other students.

Harry politely said goodbye to her and then Lupin and him walked in the greenish fire ("The Leaky Cauldron!"), and they were gone.

...

A nausea-inducing trip later, they had arrived at the bar, which was almost deserted as most people were staying at their own places that night. Tom, the owner, was there though, and he lead them to a room upstairs.

"You go take a shower and get changed, Harry. I'll help finish setting up the place and the other guests should be showing up soon. See you in a bit!"

When Lupin had left, Harry undressed and got into the bathroom. He had been aware of needing a shower since the rather active DA meeting had ended, and for a moment he wondered if Lupin, even as a human, still had a wolf's sense of smell, but he just shrugged and got under the hot, steamy stream of water.

As he washed, he felt himself becoming more relaxed - he hadn't noticed how tense he'd been. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes and left his thoughts wander away as he had done so many times since last June. He thought of Sirius, falling through the veil, Sirius singing happily a year ago now, his parents and Sirius in that wedding picture of them... he thought of Cedric, also dying in front of him, his parents, Cho crying over him...

The image of Cho carried his mind in another direction. He remembered talking to Luna not an hour ago... What was it that she had said? That he cared about someone but he hadn't realized it yet? That was stupid, Luna was crazy... but, somehow, Harry couldn't believe Luna crazy. Even if a lot of people thought so, he felt she was alright... she just looked at the world in a different view.

But why did she think he liked someone? He didn't... there was no one that had ever elicited in him the kind of feelings he supposed were the signs of love, except maybe Cho, and that seemed ages ago, in another world, in another life...

Realizing he'd already been too long in there, Harry sighed and left the bathroom, and just a while later he'd found his way to the party room, dressed in his green formal robes and with his hair as neat as he had managed to get it. A long table was set and a few people sitting there already. Lupin, who had changed into somewhat more stylish robes, was talking to Mad-Eye Moody, and Mrs. Figg was there too. She got up and greeted Harry with a timid handshake, while Moody just nodded at him and continued his conversation with Lupin.

"Who are we waiting for, Mrs. Figg?" asked Harry, looking at the dozen or so empty chairs. But before she could answer him, they heard the noise of many feet coming through the hallway, and the door opened as a sea of red heads entered the room, all of them smiling at Harry.

"Hey, mate!" said Ron, approaching to shake Harry's hand only to be nearly thrown off his feet when his mother rushed past him to engulf Harry in a tight hug that left him breathless.

"Oh, Harry, dear, I'm so glad to see you!" She held him at arm's length and checked him out. "I guess I really haven't seen you in a long time, you must have grown two inches! I'll have to get you new robes at Madam Malkin's..." said Mrs. Weasley, but she, too, was pushed away as her sons made their way towards Harry. Fred and George whispered in his ear that they'd be sending samples of their new Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes' inventions soon. Bill and Percy were there too; Percy had rejoined his family once the Minister of Magic himself had admitted they'd been wrong all along. Finally, they all took their places at the table and Harry found himself sitting between Ron and Lupin.

"I hope you enjoy this, mate. Mum flipped out when she found out you weren't allowed at the Burrow anymore and she arranged all of this, with Dumbledore's help."

"It's great, really," said Harry, and he meant it. About all the people he liked best were there and they had done all of this just for him. "Say, where's your dad?" He didn't ask about Charlie because he already knew the older Weasley brother was still working on Romania.

"Oh, he's busy tonight. Order's business, you know the drill." Ron frowned. "You know, I wish they'd let us in on what's going on. I think we've kind of earned that."

Harry agreed with Ron; this was exactly why Sirius had died, yet the adults kept tiptoeing around them. Dumbledore had entrusted Harry with some things that neither Ron nor Hermione were supposed to know, but he knew there was much more they weren't told. But he'd rather not dwell into those painful, aggravating memories tonight, so he changed the subject quickly.

"What about Hermione?" he said. After seeing the Weasleys walk into the room, he'd been a little surprised not to see her there too.

Ron opened his mouth to reply but was cut short by none other than Percy, sitting opposite them. "Oh, she says she's sorry she can't make it here," he said. "She was at the Ministry this morning, we talked for a bit before she and Hagrid had to go to their meeting with Amos Diggory."

Harry didn't have to ask what was that about. Hermione had been helping Hagrid with Buckbeat's case. Now that Lucius Malfoy and Macnair, the two key figures in the Hippogriff's trial, had been exposed as Death Eaters, they felt they had a chance of overturning the sentence. That way Buckbeat would be able to leave Grimmauld Place, where he'd been hidding in a room for over a year and a half now, and go back to his herd in the Forest at Hogwarts. Amos Diggory, Cedric's father, worked at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and Harry thought that he was sure to do what he could to help them, seeing as how Malfoy had been there the night his son had been murdered by Voldemort.

Scowling at Percy for interrupting him, Ron turned to Harry. "Yeah, well, you know they're having meetings with people from the Ministry every day during the holidays, even tomorrow." Hermione had insisted on accompanying Hagrid to speak with the people in charge, afraid he would mess things up if left by his own means. Winter break was their best opportunity to do this, since it required a lot of meetings and she refused to skip that many classes. "So tonight was her only chance to be with her parents. Bah, it's her lose," added Ron.

...

To be concluded soon! On the next chapter: Where is Ginny? Lord Voldemort strikes, and some major characters get caught in the middle of it. Fireworks and strange cellebrations. House elves and something scarier than He-who-must-not-be-named. And of course, the Forest Scene. Stay tuned!

I'd like to thank the people who reviewed so far; your support helps me write this.

It was a wonderful dinner. The food wasn't as great as that which the house-elves prepared every year at hogwarts, but it was still good. Harry wouldn't have minded even if there had been no food at all, since he was spending the evening with some of what he thought were the best people in the world. After midnight, they had spread about the room in smaller groups chatting about pointless stuff, such as wether or not the Chuddley Cannons would have an opportunity next year (they had had an expectacularly bad performance this one). George and Fred made everybody laugh showing off one of their new inventions on Percy (Ear Extenders, which far from the usefulness of their siblings, the Extendable Ears, were only good for a prank, as they made ears elongate two or three feet up in the air, giving the person the look of a fur-less bunny). That the twins kept making Percy the victim of most of their jokes was actually a sign that they had forgiven him. Ron had challenged Harry to a match of chess, and though he had tried hard, his pieces had received the usual beating.

As they were having way too much fun to care about the time, they hadn't realized just how late it was. It wasn't until Mrs. Weasley started yelling at them to go to bed that Harry looked at the clock on the wall to see it read "Time to Sleep". The Weasleys had booked rooms for the night at the Leaky Cauldron, and they were all going to stay there and have lunch un Christmas day, before Harry had to go back to the school.

Ron, who was sharing Harry's room, had already started changing into his too short pajamas when Mrs. Weasley, wearing a nightgown, walked in the room.

"Kids, do you know where Ginny is?" she asked.

"Oh, I think she went to the rooftop," said Ron, "but that was like an hour ago."

"Harry, do you mind going to look for her?" she said. Harry was the only one that was still dressed up.

"Sure, Mrs. Weasley. I'll be right back."

Harry quickly found the way to the rooftop. As he'd spent a lot of time here back at the beginning of his third year at Hogwarts, he knew the layout of the Leaky Cauldron rather well. However, he wasn't prepared for the sight that awaited him there.

The sky over Diagon Alley was ablaze with the most magnificent fireworks he'd ever seen, including the ones Fred and George had lighted on that memorable first day of Umbridge as Hogwarts' Headmistress. Much like those fireworks, the ones he was watching had amazing shapes and kept flying around instead of fading out like the muggle ones did. Catherine wheels were running amok, while dragon-shaped clouds of sparks flew over them. Shooting stars drifted slowly from the street level and up to what seemed miles into the night sky.

Distracted by this impressive manifestation of magic, it took Harry a moment to remember why he was there. He turned around looking for the youngest Weasley, and finally he saw her, sitting by the edge of the terrace. She was staring at the fireworks, but at the muggle ones. The streets occupied by the wizarding shops existed in a magically enlarged space surrounded by normal houses. It had been muggle-protected so no one would ever want to build something through it, and it was invisible to outside eyes. Only through the Leaky Cauldron could anyone get into it coming from muggle London, or even see it; and the rooftop of the bar was the only place where bot worlds, the wizarding and the muggle one, were visible at once.

"Hey!" called Harry. Ginny didn't answer right away and he noticed that she was rubbing her eyes, before she turned to face him. Had she been crying?

"Hi, Harry. What's up?" she asked.

"Er... your mum was looking for you." Harry hesitated for a moment. "Is everything alright?"

She just sighed, and Harry had a feeling he might know just what this was about. He walked towards her and sat on the edge of the terrace.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" he said. It took a moment for her to reply.

"Yeah... wonder what's he doing now. You know... I really thought we were going somewhere. I don't know what happened."

Ginny sounded on the verge of tears, and Harry didn't really know what to say. They had all thought that Dean and her were alright, and their breaking-up earlier that week had surprised them all. He hadn't talked to Ginny about it; he supposed she'd be more likely to discuss it with her girl friends. Dean hadn't said anything to him either, maybe because he was too close to the Weasleys, or perhaps simply because Seamus was much closer to him. And Harry had had other things in his mind, as Voldemort, though deep in hidding, hadn't remained still, and this kept him worried all the time.

"Did you love him?" he asked. The moment he said this, however, he wished he hadn't, because Ginny looked him in the eyes for the first time that night (he suddenly realized she hadn't talked to him all night, not even to say hello), and her tear-strained face was the most pitiful thing he'd ever seen, with the possible exception of that time they had run into Neville at St. Mungo's.

"I'm sorry, I don't even know why I said that." It was true, though he suspected the confussion in his thoughts had something to do with his earlier little chat with Luna.

"I do," she said, ignoring his last words, "or at least, I guess I do. I don't know. This - " she stopped for a moment, seemingly fighting back the tears " - this is nasty business, Harry. You think you care about someone and they - they care about you too, and everything seems great until it all falls apart. And it's just too hard - " this time, she couldn't hold it anymore, and begun sobbing quietly, shaking under the bright light of the fireworks from two different worlds.

Awkwardly, Harry patted her softly on the back, and all of the sudden, she threw herself on his arms, bawling openly now. He put his arms around her shoulders and they stayed like that for several minutes. All around them, people were still cellebrating, but up in the rooftop of the Leaky Cauldron time seemed to have stopped, as Harry held a completely broken down Ginny, her tears running down his bottle green dress robes.

After a while she calmed down somewhat, and he gave her a handkerchief with which to clean her face.

"I'm sorry, Harry... please, don't tell Ron about this, okay? I've told him I was fine, I don't want him to go and do anything to Dean..."

"It's alright, Ginny. Sorry I'm not much help... don't have too much experience with these things myself, you know? But yeah, better not expose him to Ron's temper," he said.

With a sad smile, she finished cleaning up her face, though her swollen red eyes betrayed the fact that she'd been crying. "Having experience on this isn't something desirable, Harry. Maybe someday you will, but I hope for your sake that you skip this part and go right to the good stuff."

Not knowing how to answer to this, Harry remained silent until Ginny was ready to go downstairs, and then he walked her to the room she was sharing with her mother, where they said goodnight to each other awkwardly.

Back in his room, Ron was already snoring, so Harry changed into some pajamas with the Leaky Cauldron logo on them (he hadn't brought his) and slipped quietly into his bed. Usually, he would be thinking of the gifts he would be getting the next morning, but he couldn't really care about that right now. Maybe that was a sign of him growing up, he thought idly. Tonight his mind was occupied with strange thoughts of things he hadn't really stop to consider before. The things Luna had told him so out of the blue... his old feelings for Cho - what had those been? What had happened to them? And then, having seen Ginny torn apart over the loss of someone - Dean, of all people, someone who had sleep in the same bedroom with Harry for the past five and a half years. Was Dean crying by himself, wherever he was now? Had Ginny also cried like this, with no one noticing, when Michael Cormer had left her? Had Cho cried too, after having dumped that same guy? She certainly used to cry a lot back when they'd been dating...

He thought of the first time he had noticed Cho, back before that match against Ravenclaw, how beautiful she had looked. Even now, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever known. He thought of Luna, reading The Quibbler on the train, back when they had never seen each other - how that person had risked her life to follow him on his chase of a wild dream. Ginny had done that too, and he thought back of the day when he was trying to find Platform nine and three-quarters; she had cried then too, the first time all of her brothers would be gone from home.

Women cried a lot, he thought, as he closed his eyes. But they flew well, too. Ginny was great on a broomstick, she had scored a bunch of times on their last match against Slytherin, Luna could ride a Thestral better than anyone, and Cho was as good a Seeker as he was. But she could never catch up to him now that he was riding his Firebolt, and when he looked over his shoulder, he saw she was quickly falling behind, except that now she was pointing her wand at him and firing, and the spell hit his broom and threw him off it, and Harry was falling, falling to the ground, and everyone around him was screaming his name.

"Harry! Harry!"

It took him a few seconds to realize that someone was actually calling out his name. He opened his eyes with effort, to see Lupin standing over him, his face bathed in the sunlight coming in through the window. Apparently they had slept into mid-morning.

"What's it? Did something - " he started to say, but the look in Lupin's face told him something bad had indeed happened. He bolted up, and grabbed Lupin's arm tightly. "What is it?" he asked, urgency in his voice. In the bed opposite him, Ron yawned, the noise having awakened him.

"There's been an attack at the Ministry, Harry. We don't know exactly what happened yet, but Dumbledore's sent word that you are to go back to the castle as soon as possible."

"The Ministry?" interrupted Ron, looking very pale all of the sudden.

"Yeah, but don't worry Ron - your dad wasn't even there, he's alright. But you must get ready too, Molly is already up and gathering all of your stuff so that you can go back to the Burrow. I'm afraid things are going to be really busy here, specially for Ministry employees like your dad and your brother Percy, so she'll want to have you all back in a safe place."

When Lupin left, Harry and Ron stared at each other.

"What do you reckon happened?" asked Ron. "You think You-know-who did it?"

"I reckon so," replied Harry, who had started getting dressed, "I just wonder if anyone's injured... hope Dumbledore'll tell me."

"Well... if you find out about anything, will you let me know? I doubt mum's gonna tell us much, in any case."

"Sure," said Harry, though he doubted he could say much more in a letter than what Ron could learn from reading the Daily Prophet, since he'd already been warned by Professor McGonagall not to send any sensitive information through owl post, and this looked just like the kind of things he wouldn't be able to talk about in a letter.

Lupin was waiting for him when he made it downstairs, wearing his dress robes (the only clothes he had brought). After hurriedly saying goodbye to the Weasleys ("Sorry about last night," said a blushing Ginny on Harry's ear), they walked to the fireplace, and soon enough, after another twirling and dazzling trip, they were back at the Headmaster's office, back in Hogwarts.

...

"Hello, Harry, Lupin," said Professor Dumbledore, not a trace of his usual cheerfulness. "Please take a seat, I'll be with you in a minute."

So Harry sat on a chair next to Fawkes the Phoenix, and distractedly caressed the feathers on the back of his head while Dumbledore talked to the people on the pictures. Lupin chosed a seat next to the fireplace, which was now alight with the usual, non-magical fire again. Harry listened carefully, trying to catch anything of relevance, but the old Headmaster was just issueing instructions to the different picture people to go and check what was going on in the places they had access to.

After a while of this, Dumbledore turned around, sat on the chair behind his desk, leaned back and clossed his eyes, sighing. Harry waited for a few seconds before clearing his throat and speaking.

"Er... sir?"

Dumbledore straigthened up slowly and looked at him with those deep blue eyes whose piercing gaze Harry knew so well.

"Of course, Harry... you'll want to know what's been going on. Well, we aren't certain on all the details, but about an hour and a half ago, half a dozen Death Eaters apparated into the Ministry of Magic and attacked one of the offices there. They killed three or four people - I don't know exactly how many yet - and injured several more. It was lucky that enough Aurors were close by, as they put up a terrible fight."

"Did they catch them, sir?" asked Lupin, who ignored as much of this as Harry did.

"No, Remus. The Aurors killed two of the attackers, but the rest of them managed to escape, and we believe they took something with them. And we don't know what that could be, since the offices they attacked are pretty much ruined. That will be one of our priorities, trying to figure out what was so important to risk an open attack to the Ministry - even today, the less busy day of the year."

Harry had other worries in mind, though. "Professor, did they harm... who did they get, Professor?" he asked, fearing the answer he might get. He knew plenty of good people that worked at the Ministry; Tonks, Kingsley, Madam Bonnes to name a few. The Weasleys too, but he already knew they were alright.

"I've sent Everard and Dilys, as well as some others, to find out what they can. They should be back soon enough. I should also be getting an official report from St. Mungo's, too, though that might take a while - "

Dumbledore stopped talking when one the witch named Dilys reappeared on her picture. Harry knew her, as she was the one that had let them know Mr. Weasley had been taken to St. Mungo's.

"Ah, Dilys, what have you find out?" said Dumbledore.

"I just heard the names of the ones they brought to St. Mungo's - not all of the people in the attack where sent there, mind you. I don't know which ones are dead and which are just injured, though."

"Aberdeen, Elias;" the witch started to read from a list she was holding, "Verbisky, Kane; Diggory, Amos - "

Amos Diggory worked on the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, so this probably meant that it had been his office the one the Death Eaters had attacked. Harry felt the blood thumping on his veins, drowning all the sounds in the Headmaster's office, including the voice of the witch on the picture. It wasn't necessary though, as he could still see her lips moving, forming the next name:

"Granger, Hermione."

...

To be concluded soon! Coming next: House elves and something scarier than He-who-must-not-be-named. And of course, the Forest Scene. Stay tuned! Hope you liked the little cliffhanger ;)

As always, thanks to everyone who read and to everyone who reviewed. A special thanks to those who took the time to correct my mistakes ;)

"Granger, Hermione."

The witch on the picture continued naming people, but Harry wasn't listening. Hermione was in St. Mungo's, wounded... dead? His mind was racing, faster and faster; all he could think of was of her, screaming silently as a stream of green light washed over her.

He became dimly aware that Lupin was helping him get back on his feet, and realized he must have fallen off the chair he'd been sitting on. Dumbledore was talking to him, but he had to make a real effort to understand what he was saying.

"...until we find out whatever happened, Harry, so stay calm for now, alright? I know it's difficult..." Dumbledore was saying. Harry noticed he was holding a charred piece of wood on his hand. Looking behind, he saw that the chair he'd been sitting on lied in smouldering pieces on the floor, and that there were scorched marks on the wall. It had been a while since he'd done any magic without meaning to.

"I - I have to go there. To St. Mungo's - " he said, " - she must have been there with Hagrid." For a moment he wondered what had happened to his friend Hagrid, but as his name hadn't been mentioned, he thought he was probably alright. But Hermione...

"I understand, Harry," said the Headmaster softly. "You can get there through the floo network - but we have other ways to travel. I think we should go there and see for ourselves. I'm going with you, Harry."

Harry looked into the Dumbledore's eyes, and amidst the dreariness that was filling his whole being, he silently thanked the old wizard for not leaving him alone in what he realized was suddenly becoming the worst moment of his life. He thought of his parents, and Cedric, and Sirius; was he now going to lose his best friend as well?

"Could you be so kind as to let Professor McGonagall know where we're going, Remus?" said Dumbledore.

"Of course, Professor. Here, Harry, I was meaning to give you this - open it later, will you?" Lupin gave Harry a small package, which he quickly pocketed after muttering "Thanks."

After giving Harry's shoulder a soft squeeze, Lupin left the office. "Now," continued the Headmaster, "we're going to need your help, Fawkes."

The Phoenix jumped into his extended arm with one swift movement of his red and golden wings, and as he put his other arm around Harry's shoulders, Dumbledore said "Ready, Harry?" Harry just nodded. "Well, then, Fawkes, you've heard us talking. Let's go!"

And with a sudden flash of light no one could see, they were gone.

...

They reappeared on the reception hall of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The place was even more crowded and noisier than usual, and full of official-looking wizards and witches, who stared at them - the Boy-who-lived and the most powerful wizard of the country holding onto a Phoenix where a rather odd picture in an already strange place. As Harry made it to run towards the spokeswitch to ask for information on Hermione's whereabouts, someone called out his name, and he turned around to see Kingsley Shacklebolt sitting on a bench with a bandaged arm. Dumbledore had spotted him too and they both approached the Auror who, Harry noticed, looked rather tired.

"Hello, Kingsley," said the Headmaster. "We're here - obviously - to see what happened. Got any news for us?"

"No, Albus, nothing more than what I've already reported earlier," the Auror said quietly. "But you might want to ask Tonks, she was there too - "

"Have you seen Hermione?" Harry interrupted roughly.

"Oh - your friend? Yes, she was here earlier, but she's gone now" answered Shacklebolt.

"What - what do you mean?" asked Harry, his face white as a paper.

"She was with Hagrid, and I saw them both leaving just a few minutes ago. They were going back to Hogwarts, I think."

"So she's alright? She's not - hurt?" Harry, who was breathing again, thought asking if she was not dead would be both stupid now and overly dramatic, so he corrected himself in mid-sentence.

"She seemed alright to me," said Shacklebolt, "but you'll have to ask her yourself. Probably got stunned like so many others and was brought here for a check-up, though. I wouldn't worry if I were you."

Harry stood there, speechless, the color returning to his face. Hermione was alive, she was fine; in fact, she was probably looking for him back at Hogwarts, and he would be talking to her right now if he hadn't made Dumbledore rush him to the hospital. He felt a bit dumb now.

Dumbledore, though, gave him a small, worn smile - the first he had shown him in all morning. "It seems you better go back to the school, Harry. I'll stay here, trying to see how the victims of the attack are, and what can they tell us. You go now, and I'll see you later - I don't need to remind you to be careful, alright, Harry?"

"Yeah... thanks, Professor," said Harry, who had just noticed he was shaking. "Hum, I'll see you later then, Sir - Mr. Shacklebolt." They both nodded as Harry made to leave.

There were several fireplaces in one side of the hall, which he hadn't noticed before. A few of them where for incoming people, and there were queues on the outgoing ones. Harry took a place in the shortest queue, wishing they would all hurry up. He stared at the back of the witch in front of him, not really seeing anything. It seemed incredible that not even half an hour ago he'd been sleeping on his bed on the Leaky Cauldron, so much had happened since then. He'd found about about the attack, thought one of his best friends had died and discovered that she was alright. He'd gone from numbness to panic to anger to relief, all in so few short minutes. "What if she had been killed?" he thought. "What if Voldermort had gotten her?" What would he doing right now, instead of standing on this queue? He didn't know for sure, but he had a feeling that it would have involved him barging into some of the places the Order thought were hideouts for Death Eaters and blasting a lot of things - and people - apart.

And then the witch in front of him had dissappeared. Harry mechanically spread the floo powder on the fireplace, said "Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts" in a throaty voice, and then he walked through the fire too.

...

He emerged on the other side and, surprisingly, he didn't feel dizzy at all, though, he thought, this was probably because he was already feeling angry and relieved and anxious, and there was simply no more room left in him to feel anything else.

"Alright, Harry?" said the familiar voice of Colin Creevey from a corner. He didn't bother replying properly though.

"Have you seen Hermione Granger?" he spat.

"Yeah, she was here just a minute ago. Didn't look too great though - Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil dragged her to the girl's room."

Harry turned on his heels and stared at the staircase climbing to the girl's side of the tower. He knew it was no use trying to go up there as boys weren't allowed, but still... He made his decision and grabbed the arm of a startled second year girl who was nearby.

"Hey - you - do me a favour, alright? Can you go to the sixth years' bedroom and tell a girl named Hermione that I want to talk to her? Please?" He finished in a pleading note, realizing he'd been rather rough so far.

The girl nodded and did as he'd asked her to. Harry paced up and down the short way from the girls' staircase to the fireplace, until she returned, a couple of minutes later.

"She says not to worry, Harry, but she's busy right now and she'll see you later, ok?" the girl said.

"What - yeah - alright, thank you," he replied. He was starting to feel angry again; why would she delay coming to talk to him? Didn't she realize just how worried he was? But at least she was here and she was, well, alive, he thought.

When he turned around he noticed Dennis Creevey had joined his brother and they were both signaling for him to go talk to them. Between that and being annoyed for not being able to see Hermione, he decided to go out for a while. When he was climbing out of the hole covered by the Fat Lady's portrait, he thought about Hagrid, and decided to go check on him.

An uneventful little trip down the castle's staircases and grounds, Harry was knocking on the door of Hagrid's hut.

"C'mon in!" he heard from inside, over the booming of Fang's barking.

"Hi, Hagrid," he said as he entered the house, fighting to keep the enormous dog from licking his face.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," said the Gamekeeper, and paused. "'Fraid it ain't too much of a 'appy day, 'sn't it? Those blasted Dark Wizards!" he added, and hit the table with his fist, making Fang divert his attention from Harry's face and stare at him.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?" asked Harry, sitting down across the table from Hagrid. Fang went back to him, but limited himself to rest his head on Harry's leg, making it all wet with his spit.

"Not much ter tell yeh, really. We're just there, miding yer own b'sness, then all of the sudden, people start blasting spells all over yeh. Bad things, Harry. People dead, like yeh wouldn' believe. Ol' Diggory got 'imself badly hurt. Yeh know 'im, don'cha Harry?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I met him 'couple of years back... then I saw him the night Cedric was killed." He stopped for a moment; after all this time, the memory of that night always brought him back a mess of tangled emotions. "What were you doing there, anyways? On Christmas day?" he asked.

"Got a special meeting, yeh know. That 'hole deal with Bucky's case turned out ter be tougher than we thought. Tell yeh the truth, if it wasn't for Hermione's help, there wouldn't be nuttin ter do, really. She's found us a lot of useful stuff, she has."

And so Harry was brought back to the issue of his friend.

"Tell me, Hagrid, is she alright? I haven't been able to see her - follow her all around the place, actually." His voice betrayed he was more than a little resentful for this.

"Oh, she'll be fine, don'cha worry 'bout it. She actually helped them Aurors, yeh know? Jinxed a couple of them blasted Death Eaters before getting herself Stunned. Oh, and I think sum of the fire got her too."

"Fire?" said Harry, startled. He hadn't heard anything about fire until now.

"Yeh, but again, don'cha worry 'bout it, she's alrite, she is."

Harry opened his mouth to say that he was worried about it nevertheless, but he was interrupted when someone knocked softly on the door.

"Door's open!" boomed Hagrid.

Slowly, the door swung forwards and a small head with big green eyes and long floppy ears appeared behind it.

"Hi, Dobby," said Harry, surprised to see the house-elf here of all places.

"Oh! Merry Christmas, Harry Potter! Merry Christmas, sir Hagrid!" squeaked the tiny creature.

"Merry Christmas, Dobby," they both replied at once. "What are yeh doing 'ere, Dobby?" asked Hagrid.

"Dobby is coming here to invite you to the house-elves cellebration!" said Dobby.

Harry looked from Dobby to Hagrid, wondering what the house-elf was talking about. Hagrid wasn't at all surprised, though.

"'Fraid I can't make it there this time, Dobby. Lots'a things ter do today, what with the attack 'n all. Thanks for inviting me, though," he said.

"Oh, Dobby understands, sir..." The house-elf remained quiet for a moment, apparently waiting for something. Finally, he spoke again. "Will Harry Potter be coming to our cellebration, then?"

"What? Er - " Harry didn't know what to say. Playing for time, he asked: "What is this cellebration you're talking about, Dobby?"

"Tis the house-elves cellebration of Christmas day, Harry Potter! After the sires and misses has done having their cellebration and the house-elves has nothing to work on, they held their own party every year, sir! And some sires and misses are invited too," said Dobby excitedly.

"Really good party, Harry, yeh oughta go if yeh have nuttin' else ter do. I go there ev'ry year if I can make it" said Hagrid, smiling under the mass of tangled hair that was his beard.

"It is, Harry Potter, really! Dobby would has invited you before but sir wasn't here last year for Christmas, and Dobby came to Hogwarts after Christmas the year before!" Harry noticed that the house-elf was getting more excited with every word. He didn't know what to say. On one hand, this sounded like something he should see at least once in his life (it had to be better than the Deathday party he had attended to during his second year). But somehow it didn't seem right to be in any kind of party hours after people had been killed at the Ministry. The thought of the attack made him remember something else.

"Oh, I don't know Dobby. I need to go and see how Hermione's doing - " he started saying, but Dobby interrupted him earnestly.

"But miss is coming to the party too, Harry Potter! Dobby asked the other house-elves to let her come - some of them wasn't too happy but most wants her there too!"

"They do?" asked Harry, frankly bewildered. Hermione had changed her strategy for S.P.E.W. this year; she'd been visiting the kitchens and talking to the house-elves individually. He and Ron had thought she was wasting her time, but apparently some of the house-elves, at least, had taken to like her, if they wanted her there.

"Yes, Harry Potter, they does! Dobby has just been in the Gryffindor Tower and invited miss Hermione and she said she's coming!" Dobby was decidedly delighted with this, and he looked at Harry expectantly. He sighed and made up his mind.

"Alright, Dobby, I'll be there. After the feast is over, right?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Dobby, jumping in place, his ears twitching. "Oh, this is wonderful! Harry Potter is coming to the cellebration! Such an honor! We is so happy!" And with that, he dissapparated with a faint pop.

"Wait!" cried Harry. "Rats... he didn't even tell me where it is!" he said, more to himself than to anyone.

"That's alrite, Harry. I've been there meself, 'member?"

"Of course," said Harry, feeling, not for the first time in the evening, a little dumb. "So, where is it? Where do the house-elves go to get wild, Hagrid?" he asked.

Hagrid gave him an appraising look. Then he smiled in a way that told Harry that whatever was coming would be no good to him.

"Why, deep in the Forest, of course!" Hagrid said.

...

To be concluded soon! Yeah, I know i keep saying that. A few things I have to say:

First of all, I'm sorry this keeps getting longer and longer. I know I said it would be two chapters. That's because most of it was already written, but I've been having too much fun rewriting it and expanding it. I hope no one's too bugged by this; if you like it, then you shouldn't mind it doesn't end so soon ;) It will definitely end in the next chapter though.

Second, another apology, this one for making this chapter so short. I really wanted to post it and I don't have time to finish the rest of the fic today. That will make for a rather short final chapter too, I guess, but at least you get something to read for the time being, huh? Also, I guess I felt a little guilty for the cliff hanger of the previou chapter. I got so many notes for that!

Third, about the cliffy: even though I enjoyed it, you should know that wasn't just me being evil. The cliff hanger had a purpose, which is to let the readers feel a little bit of what Harry must have felt upon hearing the dreadful news. This is important, as the whole fic centers on Harry's feelings. So now you know why I did that :)

Finally, I'm just wondering, did anyone get the little Final Fantasy VII reference? I guess not...

Anyways, stay tuned for the much famed Forest Scene, coming soon to a browser near you.

The feast was as spectacular as ever. A dozen Christmas trees had been set on the Great Hall, adorned with the usual fanfare of everlasting icicles, live owls and real light faeries. The food was also as good as Harry could remember it; the house-elves had made their best effort preparing it even though they had another feast of their own to attend to shortly after this one was over.

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table with some of the students that had stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays. Hermione, Lavender and Parvati hadn't shown up yet, but he was done by now being irritated by this. Let them have their fun with whatever it was they were doing, he thought. Not that he couldn't use the company of a real friend, as the Creevey brothers had sat across from him and had been bombarding him with questions all along. The news of the attack hadn't took long to spread around, and everybody was talking about it.

Directing his gaze once more to the Ravenclaw table, Harry saw Luna staring at him. When their eyes made contact, she gave him an odd, lopsided grin. Earlier on, they'd talked for a minute on the Entrance Hall, and she'd let him know that Cho had left. In the aftermath of Cedric's death, she had grown quite close to his parents, and now she had gone visit Mr. Diggory at St. Mungo's.

The sight of Luna smiling at him reminded him of their little conversation the previous day. He thought of that as he made his way across the school grounds towards the edge of the Forest. He thought of the girls he knew... Luna, who seemed to be so out there and yet, as probably only he knew, had such a special outlook on life... Ginny, so strong and confident, breaking down like that the night before... Cho, the girl he had liked for so long, gone to visit the father of her dead boyfriend... Hermione, who had been close to getting herself killed just this morning and was now apparently avoiding him... Girls are so complicated, Harry told himself.

He had reached the edge of the Forest, and looked at it apprehensively. Even though it was only the mid-afternoon, it was already getting dark, the nights had gotten that much shorter. The moon, nearly full, was visible low in the sky. He walked in and started following the path he knew only too well by now, trying to avoid the low-hanging branches that treatened to rip his robes on every step.

After a while of following the path, he reached the huge white stone that Hagrid had told him would mark the approximate place where he would have to leave the path to get deeper into the woods. Sighing slightly and watching his breath come out in clouds in front of him, Harry turned and started walking among the spikey bushes that littered the tight space between the towering trees, all the while wishing he could just Apparate at the cellebration place like the house-elves did.

...

Nearly an uneventful hour after leaving the path, Harry started hearing sounds coming from ahead; it sounded like many high-pitched voices trying to sign several different songs at the same time. Light was filtering through the nearby trees, and as he kept walking, Harry turned off the tip of his wand which he had had to light up to see his way under the dark canopy of branches above him.

All of the sudden he had walked right into a wide clearing populated by what appeared to be a thousand elves that were all busy either singing and dancing or eating from very large tables covered with all kinds of dishes, some of which Harry couldn't identify for the life of him. A million tiny magical fires that didn't burn had been attached to the trunks of the trees bordering the clearing, at the height of Harry's eyes, and their shuddering light shone brightly over the heads of the cheerful elves as they went about their party.

And then some of the nearby house-elves noticed him and the singing faded for a moment as they all started squeaking "Harry Potter! Harry Potter is come here!" to each other.

Harry was soon surrounded by a sea of shiny bald heads with long floppy ears, some with tomato-like noses, some with long thin ones, all kinds really, as the house-elves scrambled around him excitedly. He noticed that something tall and red with yellow stripes that he couldn't identify was making a zig-zagging path through the tiny creatures towards him. When it got closer, he realized it was a long Gryffindor scarf wrapped around dozens of misshapen wool hats. Underneath all this was Dobby's grinning face.

"Harry Potter! Welcome to the house-elves party!"

Harry tried to say something but he never got around to it as Dobby grabbed his hands and pulled him while many small hands pushed on his back, steering him into the middle of the mass of elves who had now resumed dancing.

For the next half hour he was forced to dance around with the elves, something that, he had to admit, was rather fun. They all kept making a big deal of him being there. Finally, though, as he was getting tired of all the spastic dancing, he managed to escape to a more quiet part of the clearing where a few house-elves, having drank too much butterbeer, laid on the grass snoring loudly. Soon he was joined by Dobby.

"Is Harry Potter enjoying the party?" he asked anxiously.

"Yeah, sure" said Harry. He looked around at the elves... there just seemed to be too many of them. "So where are they all from, Dobby? Not just from Hogwarts, right?" he asked.

"Oh, no, Harry Potter. They comes from all over the country, the house-elves of most wizarding families are here. Tis a time for us to cellebrate while the masters is enjoying their presents. Also," Dobby added with a sly grin, "tis a time for house-elves to get to know each other better, if sir knows what Dobby means." The tiny creature winked up at Harry and he felt the grin spreading on his own face. He remembered something all of the sudden though.

"Say, Dobby, have you seen Hermione at all?" He'd been looking around for her since he had reached the clear, and although it was big and full of noisy elves, he was sure he'd have spotted her by now if she had been there, as she would raise a good two feet over the creatures' heads.

"No sir, Dobby hasn't seen miss..." The elf turned around on his heels, and then turned back to face Harry again, with a keen look on his eyes. "But Dobby knows who we can ask! Come with me, Harry Potter!" And he grabbed Harry's hand and led him through a zigzagging path between tables, chairs and ecstatic house-elves. Finally they got to a place where the clearing did a small turn so that a part of it was hidden from the main party-area by some heavily decorated trees. This was obviously the "kitchen" of the place, as several house-elves were busy preparing food and drinks for their peers, under the commands of an elf that was standing on a stool and wearing a white cook hat much to big for his head.

With some surprise, Harry realized that the elf was actually a female and none other than Winky, the old servant of the Crouch family. He hadn't seen her in a year and a half, yet he knew from Hermione, who has been visiting the kitchens a lot, that she had recovered somewhat from the depression she had sunk in after being thrown out by her former master. And recovered she looked indeed, as she kept issueing commands to the other elves non-stop, with a very energetical yet high-pitched voice.

"Winky! Winky! Look who is come here, Winky!" exclaimed Dobby delightedly.

"Welcome, young master Harry Potter," said Winky. "We hopes you is having fun at our party."

Harry thought she didn't sound all that sincere though. She hadn't trusted him much the last few times she had seen her, during his fourth year at Hogwarts; maybe she believed him somehow responsible for the fate of the late Crouchs?

"Harry Potter wants to know if miss Hermione Granger is here, Winky! Has you seen her?" asked Dobby.

"Oooh, yes, miss Granger was just here." Harry noticed that Winky sounded much more warmer now that she was talking about Hermione. Maybe she had taken to like her after all. "She just says Winky, 'Winky, I'm going to be over there for a while', and Winky says, 'Young miss, you is not being able to taste Winky's dessert' but she goes anyways."

"Alright, thank you, Winky," said Harry, looking at the opening in the trees Winky had pointed to. "I'll go see what she's up to, alright, Dobby? I'll be back soon," he added, seeing the somewhat dissappointed look in the house-elf's eyes.

"Be careful, Harry Potter! We is waiting you back soon!" Dobby said as Harry made his way out of the clearing and back into the dark trees beyond it.

...

Harry walked slowly, trying as best as he could to avoid the bushes, so dense now that he was out of the clearing. As the Forest blocked out the light coming from the enchanted fires the elves had put up, and their singing faded away, Harry was able to make out the distant sound of water running. He headed in that direction, wondering what in heaven's name was Hermione up to hiding in here.

The ground was rising steadily here, and soon Harry had reached the source of the noise. He was standing atop a small mound of rocks covered in moss. Water poured from within spaces in the rocks and cascaded down to a natural pond at the bottom, some twenty feet below, where it spilled over into a slim stream that slithered away, into the forest. The trees had receded here, and the moon, now bright in the sky, illuminated the melancholic scene.

And sitting in the edge of the pond Harry saw - finally - Hermione.

She hadn't noticed him. He was about to call out her name when something made him stop. There was a different sound, and it was coming from... Hermione? Was she singing? Harry stared at her in disbelief: he would have expected many odd things from his friend, but sing? That didn't sound like something she would do. So he remained silent, just watching her and listening.

He was too far to make out the words, but it was something sad and slow. Harry frowned slightly: Hermione didn't sing very well. If she liked to do this, it was really no wonder she'd kept it hidden from them. He could just picture in his mind Ron guffawing hearthily, if he had been next to him right now. For some reason, though, this didn't feel remotely funny to Harry.

He adjusted his glasses as he tried to take in the whole strange sight. Her robes, he noticed with a start, weren't her usual black ones, but deep-blue formal ones that he had never seen before and that really suited her figure. Hermione's shoulders were visible and Harry, due to his vantage position, could see way more cleavage than the designers of the dress probably intended anyone to see. He suddenly felt awkward, spying on his friend like this, but he told himself that she was the one that had been playing hide-and-seek the whole day so he was entitled to do a bit of voyeurism.

There was something on the ground next to Hermione - were those her shoes? Sure enough, her bare feet were poking from one side of her robes, as she was sitting with her legs folded undereath herself. Her socks had been folded neatly and placed on top of the shoes. With a start, Harry wondered if Hermione was about to go skinny-dipping in the pond. Then he chastized himself for being so silly: it was the middle of winter and the water would be freezing. Still, she could just magically heat up the water of perhaps make herself insensitive to the cold, but would she? She was to uptight to just go and get naked where people could accidentally see her (this would be no accident though, he told himself). Then again, hidding in the middle of the Forest to sing wasn't like her either.

And what if she was about to take her clothes off? Would Harry leave, to give her friend privacy? Would he stop her? Or would he stay and watch? Harry was surprised to realize that the last option sounded really appealing to him, and that it would probably take a lot of willpower to leave and do the "right thing" if it came up to that.

He felt his face blushing at the thought of the possible nakedness of his best friend, and it took him a few seconds to notice that she was silent now. He forced his mind away from the alluring images of her and concentrated on the real Hermione down there. He couldn't make out her face, as she seemed to be staring into the pond and her bushy hair was covering it. Her bushy hair... there was something different there as well. Harry narrowed his eyes and tried to figure out what it was. It took him a while but he finally saw that it was a lot shorter than it had been just a few days before, reaching now only to Hermione's shoulders. With some effort, he put two and two together and came up with an explanation for what had happened: Hagrid had told him she had got burned in the attack but she was okay. The Death Eaters had just got her hair. Harry told himself that this was probably why she had dissappeared with Lavender and Parvati as soon as she had arrived at Hogwarts - they must have been helping her cut it so the damage wouldn't be noticeable. They had done a good job, he thought.

And then he saw her arms moving, her hands reaching up to her face and rubbing her eyes. Was she crying? He distinctly heard her sobs, leaving no doubt about it, and decided at once that he had been spying on her for way too long. Careful not to make any noise, he climbed down from his spot atop the small waterfall and made his way around it. He purposefolly started stepping hard on the branches on the floor so that she would hear him approaching and would have time to adjust her appeareance.

When he saw her again, having just entered the small clearing, she had turned her face away from the place he was coming from and was rubbing her eyes furiously with both hands.

"Winky said you'd be here..." he said tentatively.

"Oh, hi Harry," she replied as she turned to face him.

Harry stopped dead on his tracks, staring at her. The moon was shining right above them and its reflection in the waters of the pond gave her face a pale sort of glow, the dress showed off her slim figure, and her shorter hair somehow made her appear less like a teenager and more like a woman. The whole image, he thought as he felt himself blush again, was pretty impressive: she looked like an angel...

Harry mentally slapped himself from thinking such silly things and resumed walking towards her. He sat across from Hermione, and looked at the depths of the pond. Tiny silvery fishes were swimming around the bottom, only a couple of feet deep, all going in a direction then turning around at once and reagrouping. It was quite fun to watch, but he had other things in mind.

"I... I heard about the attack," he said. She merely nodded. "So, are you, er, alright?" he asked lamely.

She sighed before answering. "Yeah, I guess... I don't know, really." She turned away from him again.

Awkwardly, he put his hand on her shoulder and said, in what he hoped was a soothing voice, "It's alright, Hermione... we'll catch them... we'll go and - "

But what they were going to go and do, he never got around to say, as she completely broke down then, throwing herself on his arms and sobbing hard against his robes. Taken aback, he couldn't think of anything to do besides putting his arms around her and patting her on the back.

"Oh, Harry! I - I thought we were all going to die!" she managed to say in between her sobbing. "I thought that was it!"

"Come on now, Hermione," he said, feeling this was a bit unreasonable for her to say. "You've been in worse situations than that... remember the end of last year? It was just the six of us against all those Death Eaters... there were a lot of help in the Ministry today, wasn't it? Think of second year, how you faced the Basilisk..." He didn't know what else to say, as he had faced a lot of dangerous situations but she had either not been there or not been really endangered then.

"I didn't gave it much thought - you know - " she said, shaking in his arms and without looking at him " - with the Basilisk. I guess I was just too young and irresponsible." She swallowed hard. "And last year... it was bad, but Harry... Harry, you were there, you see?"

For a couple of minutes there was just silence, interrupted every so often by Hermione's sobs. Then Harry spoke with a would-be-cheerful voice.

"Calm down, Hermione... it's alright, I'm here now, and - and - besides... where's that Gryffindor braveness? You can't let this affect you... we are going to win this war and you should know it... okay? Let's return to the party..."

Slowly, her crying subsided, and she pulled apart from him, her hands resting on his chest. He looked into her red, swollen eyes; tears had streamed down her cheeks and a single one was clinging from the end of her nose. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned up her face inexpertly, causing her to laugh nervously a couple of times.

"I guess you're right, Harry... we should go back there, huh? Don't want Dooby and Winky to grow all worried about us." She started pulling on her socks as she was speaking. Soon she was ready to go, having put on her shoes as well.

"You go first," he told her, "I'll be there in a minute, ok?"

"Alright, Harry, I'll see you there. And sorry about that..." She smiled sheepishly.

"It's quite alright," Harry said, and he thought he was sounding like Dumbledore. "Go, now!"

Hermione left the clearing quietly, and Harry sat there looking at the place in the trees where she had dissappeared. Then he turned to the pond again, and watched the little fishes in it, letting his gaze wander about the smooth surface of the water.

Suddenly something dropped, causing ripples in the water. It was followed by another of its kind, and then another, and Harry realized he was crying.

He didn't quite understand why he was feeling like this, not now; he'd been worried about one his best friends, but she was alright, he had just been with her and would be with her again as soon as he was able to leave the pond. But he couldn't right now, as he was feeling torn inside. It was something unlike anything he'd ever felt, and it scared him. He thought of the dreadful things he had seen in his short life; the rise of Voldemort, the death and suffery of the people around him, the horrors that lied in this very Forest, but nothing had ever terrified him the way he was now. He dropped to his knees, still staring at the place where Hermione had dissappeared, and thought of how he had liked Cho, and how he had cared about Ginny, and how he had felt so comfortable around Luna; but Hermione was so different from all that and yet somehow so much more important! She was like a thorn that had embedded itself deep into his heart, and he felt now the warmth spreading from it and the freezing cold growing around it. Because this was something he couldn't deal with, something far more difficult to do than anyhing he had ever done. He was feeling something he had never felt before, yet, somehow, he knew what this was. He simply loved Hermione Granger. She had almost died today and the thought tortured him, for he hadn't been there with her and he couldn't even begin to think of what losing her would do to him. There were many people he cared for in his life, but suddenly he realized he could probably live through the loss of any and all of them, but not of her.

Images kept running through his mind of Hermione as he had seen during all these years: she barging into his and Ron's compartment; she bossing them around to prepare for the tests; she lying on a bed in the Hospital Wing, petrified; she, next to Ron, smiling up at him after they had won the Quidditch Cup; she dancing with Krum; she holding onto him as Grawp had tried to grab her; she being hit by that spell last year at the Department of Mysteries; she looking at him with her eyes red and swollen and with something dangling from her nose; and this girl, no, this woman, he thought, was someone he couldn't live without.

It was strange, he thought, how he had slowly grown on him; how someone he had never even seen as a girl was now arousing these feelings on him; how it had taken nearly losing her to realize how she had won his heart over the years. How, far from the casual attraction of someone's looks or something imposed by society's rules and customs, this was real... there was no other word for it. This was the real thing.

He got up slowly and cleaned his own teary face as he walked back to the party, still feeling extremely warm and completely frozen at the same time, thinking about how close he had been to tell her something he could have never possibly explained to her.

But as he left the pond where the reflection of the moon was shinning calmly, he thought that he would have to tell her some day, because that was the way he really felt. Because he had wanted to tell her "Calm down, Hermione... it's alright, I'm here now... and I'll never leave you again." What would she have answered to that? What would she have said?

He made his way in silence to the party, to the girl he now knew he loved, and to the future he dreared so much now.

Well, that's it, I hope you enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed writing and re-writing it, as you can tell from the amount of words ^^; Thanks to everybody who read, and everybody who reviewed!!

(*) If you liked this fic, you might also like Transformation Scene, to which Forest Scene is a prequel (in other words: if you want to know what happens next, you can go and read Transformation Scene). Be aware it's rated R though! :O