First off - A GIANT sized cookie to SoulShine who might have been the only person to catch my reference to the "bluffing" thing. Not only did you hit that spot-on, you also figured out exactly HOW Ginny KNEW Harry was bluffing! I am duly impressed SS - You are a force to be reckoned with…I wonder how many more of my plot lines you have figured out already (Here I thought I hid them so well!)
For the many others who seem confused by this last sentence, it came as reference to the letter Ginny read that Harry had written her. In the letter he was very clear that he'd hexed the parchment so Ginny couldn't tell Hermione what he'd said…she obviously knew he was bluffing-or was willing to risk it-to help the trio on the back patio.
Second - As far as Harry and Hermione's plan to keep certain "pleasantries" for the honeymoon, you must remember that an author must pour themselves into a story in order to make it viable. I am a 29 (at least until Wednesday) year old mother of 2 and have a very difficult time writing a steamy scene between two seventeen year olds who aren't married. I'm not naïve enough to know that it doesn't happen-I'm not even going to say I haven't partaken in the same, but I also remember being that age. I remember wanting desperately to be the "good girl" who "does everything right" and failing miserably in the heat of the moment. One reviewer though it was OOC for Hermione to NOT want to shag Harry right away. I have issue with that…I think just the opposite. That's probably evident from the way I've written it I suppose.
However, if you just saw through my lines there (and likely the last internal dialogue comment of that scene) their intentions - while perfectly acceptable and well-mannered are going to be very difficult to keep.
Third-I'm glad you all liked the argument between the trio - it's obviously been building since H/H both got together-if re-reading Power check Ron's reactions anytime they're together after Christmas, and certainly I specifically built it since the beginning of this story. I'm also glad you responded so well to the emotional scene at Grimmauld Place. Harry has done "well" throughout all of Power-and through too this point, at repressing his feelings over Sirius' death…I've built that to this point as well - but everyone needs to move one eventually-Harry is no different. That was an important first step for him.
Last-I mentioned that there are other ships associated with this fic. In final count there will be at least 4. H/H goes without saying. However, I think you've got to be blind at this point to have not picked up on the second…I think everyone has so I have no issue in "spoiling" it here. Remus and Tonks will be a couple in this. Long before I posted Power I asked the mods here if that would be acceptable within the constructs of the site. They assured me it was okay. After getting their green light I began posting Power-knowing where the sequel was going.
All that being said-here is your latest installment! I hope it is to your satisfaction!
Vleigh!
Chapter 9 - Détente
Harry heard footsteps crossing the floor. He was vaguely aware someone was in the bedroom. Just as he opened his eyes to search for the intruder, she squeezed them shut again and buried his head in his pillow.
Molly Weasley snapped the drapes open allowing a blazing beam of warm sunlight to pierce Harry's tired eyes.
"Mum!" Ron growled form the neighboring bed.
"Oh, don't 'Mum' me, Ronald. I've been calling for the both of you to wake up for fifteen minutes. If I don't take some drastic measures you'll never wake up in time for the train." She picked a few scattered pieces of laundry and headed for the door. "And frankly, we have no more cars to donate to your efforts in creative transportation!" She trotted out of the room and her footsteps carried her back down the stairs.
"Will she ever let that go?" Harry muttered.
"Ha! You're an optimist. She's still sore about the time I set her crocheted table cloth on fire." Ron scoffed.
"I don't remember that. When did that happen?"
"When I was three."
Harry and Ron's eyes met and both of their weak smiles faltered. After their catharsis on the back patio, everyone had decided it was time to turn in. They had all hugged, said goodnight, and wearily made their way to their beds. Now, in the bright light of a new day, it was clear Ron and Harry didn't quite know how to behave. They screamed, they insulted, they had been emotionally exposed, and most importantly, they cried in front of each other for the first time in memory. It was the last part that got Harry. No matter what the circumstances, even in Cedric's death, he had not let Ron see him cry. He was acutely concerned with it.
Last night they both cried. They didn't cry quiet, sheepish, considerate tears. They cried like a two year old child who just watched their red balloon float into the heavens and dropped their ice cream cone all at once. In retrospect, Harry wasn't quite sure why he had become so emotional.
Maybe it was the relief of knowing he hadn't driven his best friend away forever. Perhaps it was the joy of having the "trio" back together again. It might've been the stress of knowing this issue was not over. More than likely, it was just the ability to be in the presence of the two people he loved the most and be able to show such raw emotion with no fear of judgment. He had never had that kind of love in his life before now, and quite frankly, at times, it scared him more than Voldemort did.
"Er, so…Harry," Ron stuttered. "About Hermione."
"No, please," Harry interrupted. "We've got all the time in the world to talk about that. I really just want to spend some time with us; the three of us. I've missed you."
Ron's broad smile shone brighter than the morning sunlight. "I've missed you too. Let's get something to eat. I'm famished!" With that, Harry and Ron climbed out of their beds and made for the kitchen. They thundered down the stairs, chuckling like first years, and bounded into the breakfast room with beaming smiles.
Hermione and Ginny were already dressed and seated at the table. They had been hunched over the latest Daily Prophet but looked up as the boys burst into the room. Normally, a scathing remark would've been opportune at this moment, but as it was, the entire room merely fell silent, in hushed thanksgiving at the sight before them. The silence didn't last for long.
Pop!
QUACK!
"Blimey! That wasn't supposed to happen for another ten minutes!" Fred exclaimed.
QUACK! QUACK!
A rather oversized Welsh Harlequin duck flopped off the dining chair and began chasing Fred around the table. "George! It's not my fault!"
QUAAAACK!
"Don't talk to me like that! You mixed the potion!" Fred said, throwing his arms in the air.
"Do you actually know what he's saying?" Hermione asked, astounded.
"Hermione, I don't have to speak duck to understand that my brother just called me a… OUCH! Don't bite George!" Fred squeaked. He grabbed his knee cap and hobbled out of the room, George flapping his wings and quacking wildly behind him. The room burst into a fit of laughter. Even Molly Weasley couldn't contain her giggling as she looked upon her family; all of her family. She smiled warmly at Hermione, winked at Harry and returned to the bacon sizzling on the pan before her.
As usual, Fred and George were exactly what the house needed. Fred's bleeding knees were a small price to pay for the tension breaker they provided. Everyone quickly gathered around the table and Ms. Weasley brought several bowls and plates, brimming with food, to the table.
"Tuck in!" she beamed.
"Cor, Mum. Look at all this food." Ron shot a glance to Harry and nodded his head in Hermione's direction. "When did we get a house elf?" Hermione stopped spooning her porridge and looked at her plate for a fleeting second. Realizing the Weasley's didn't have the income to support a house elf, comprehension dawned and she pursed her lips at Ron. He elbowed Harry in the ribs and continued loading his plate with bacon, smiling the entire time. Harry sighed contentedly.
It's a promising start.
They continued eating breakfast and regaling each other with stories, new and old, that families often told. Their Hogwart's letters had come to the Burrow in the frightful weeks that proceeded September the first. Mrs. Weasley ensured each student had the appropriate supplies and neatly bound them all together. She purchased their textbooks, quills, ink, parchment, potions supplies, and even gone all out for Hermione.
Sometimes having six male children was a bit trying for Molly. She relished at having a girl to dote upon when Ginny finally came. In Hermione, she felt like she'd gained another daughter, and she treated her accordingly. Traditionally, Hogwarts hosts a rather grand ball for their outgoing seventh year students. While the gala was not to be held until the spring, Molly simply couldn't resist purchasing a beautiful crème gown for Hermione. She hadn't expected to do so, but saw it sparkling in the window of Madam Malkin's and simply couldn't resist. It was rather expensive, but Hermione's parents had sent Muggle money that Molly easily exchanged to cover the cost of her supplies. The gown was wrapped neatly in simple brown paper and tied with a raffia bow. It had been placed with great care on the top of Hermione's stack of textbooks. Besides, it was the least she could do for her "adopted" daughter. She was so proud of her accomplishments.
"Might I join you?' The unmistakable, distinguished, voice of Albus Dumbledore effectively brought the conversation to a standstill.
"Albus, what a pleasant surprise!' Arthur Weasley chimed as he conjured another chair for the headmaster.
"Oh, I don't know that it was all that unexpected." The trio looked at each other. No one else in the room seemed surprised to see the Hogwarts Headmaster casually saunter in for a spot of breakfast. Lupin and Tonks, who had arrived earlier and were playing chess in the next room, didn't look up from their game. A cacophony of waterfowl calls in the backyard led the house to believe there were, in fact, two Welsh Harlequins flapping about the back garden now. Molly merely gathered some empty plates from the table and cast the self-washing spells at the sink.
"I thought, perhaps, I might have a word with Ron, Harry, and Hermione."
Gulp.
Ron and Harry exchanged nervous glances. Usually, if they were in the presence of the headmaster together, they were about to be handed detention or the threat of expulsion in the next sentence.
The term hasn't even started? What could we have done?
Ron must've had similar thoughts. As Harry looked his way, Ron merely shrugged his shoulders and rose from the table with Harry and Hermione. They entered the small parlor where Tonks and Lupin had been engaged in a rather vicious game of chess. Without comment, they both rose from their seats and left the room for the patio, chess board floating along behind them.
Moving as though they were one, Harry, Hermione, and Ron quietly perched themselves on the edge of the couch and waited for Dumbledore to start talking.
"First, let me say this. I am proud of the efforts you have made in your friendship. Friendships are of significant importance, especially a bond as strong as that which you three share. That bond will be the most important thing you share this year. Preserve it at all costs." Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged sheepish, but rather alarmed looks. Dumbledore was being rather philosophical. That was never a good sign. "I did not wish to deride your friendship further and thought my presence might be more settling than an owl. I need to announce the new Head Boy and Head Girl before the train departs this morning."
Hermione clasped a hand to her mouth and gasped. Her reaction told Harry that she had done the same thing he had…completely forgotten about the Head student assignments.
"I can, of course, only choose one boy and one girl. That leaves me in a bit of a predicament this year. Ms. Granger, I have chosen you for Hogwarts Head Girl position." Hermione's eyes welled up and both Ron and Harry gave her congratulatory hugs while awaiting the bad news. It really didn't matter who it was, it was bad for at least one person in the room. Suddenly, Lupin's assertion that odd numbers always produce a "third wheel" came rushing back to Harry. Either Ron or he was going to be left out of this.
If Harry was made Head Boy, it would likely exacerbate the feelings Ron already harbored. Given the unsteady ground of their current relationship, that was a result Harry did not desire. If Ron was named Head Boy, which made a bit of sense to Harry given the fact he was a Prefect during fifth year, then Harry would be left out. Ron would have time with Hermione that Harry would be excluded from. Not that he minded her spending time with Ron, he thought, but any time with someone else was time away from him.
Way to go Potter, I think you've officially crossed the line to obsessive now.
I'm not obsessed.
No, just jealous.
Harry was pulled from his thoughts as Dumbledore began to speak. While he secretly begged to be named Head Boy, if only to share the role with Hermione, he didn't want Ron to know. He suddenly felt like a pageant contestant about to hear which was named 'runner-up.' Would he smile meekly and offer condolences? Would he hug Ron and cry?
Isn't that what those women do?
But, what if he was the one being consoled? Suddenly, the moment was upon him. "Harry, this may be a bit of a surprise," Dumbledore began.
Oh, gods.
"I'd like you to be Hogwarts Head Boy this year." If he tried to hide it, Ron's slumping shoulders indicated how crestfallen he really was. Hermione looked from one to the other, not knowing how to respond. If she congratulated Harry, what did that mean for Ron? As they both sat, perched on the edge of the sofa, clamoring to devise an appropriate response, Ron took the initiative.
"Congratulations, Harry." He extended his hand with a warm, although reserved smile, and shook his best friend's hand. Then he left the room. Hermione and Harry watched him go, not knowing what to say. Harry returned his gaze to Dumbledore.
"I don't understand, sir. Ron was the Prefect. The responsibilities you told me about then, haven't changed. Why me?" Harry was sincere in his question. Before the announcement came, he had wanted the position for the mere fact of being near Hermione. But after seeing Ron's face he wasn't sure if irreparable damage had befallen their détente.
"No, Harry. Your responsibilities have changed. They've changed drastically. As Head Boy I expect I'll see some of your innate leadership abilities. You both had the leadership and determination to begin a secret defense group under Professor Umbridge's nose. It's daring, cunning, and leadership of that caliber that I require now. That is why I chose you, Harry. We'll discuss it in more detail after your return. For now,' he looked toward the vacated spot on the sofa, "I think you have more pressing matters to attend to."
For the number of lingering questions Harry wanted to ask, Dumbledore rose to his feet as he spoke the last sentence. Harry had seen that look before. The conversation was over. Dumbledore smiled warmly at Harry and Hermione and pulled two badges from his robes. He handed the appropriate badge to each one and bade them farewell.
***
Platform 9 ¾ was bustling like never before. Given how late they had slept in, Harry felt they would be running through the barrier at 10:58, much as they had for the past seven years. It didn't happen though. Molly Weasley had done such a wonderful job of packing and preparing the "troops" this was likely the earliest they had ever gotten to King's Cross. Students were streaming around the Weasley clan, pushing trolleys, shushing a menagerie of animals, and shouting excitedly to friends they had not seen in two months.
Harry felt the same ache in his heart he experienced last year at this time. Last year he left this platform still repressing an emotional response to the loss of his godfather. He'd managed to successfully keep that wellspring of emotion contained until facing the void in his heart at Grimmauld Place. Although he was not the poster child for emotional understanding, he saw the same desperate fight to maintain composure being waged by someone else.
He strode over to Remus Lupin, who was quietly standing against the brick wall.
"Alright Harry?" Lupin asked.
"I'm fine. I just wanted to say goodbye, and…thanks."
"For what?"
"For being there for me this summer. For dropping everything to get me when you knew I was in trouble; for listening to me ramble on." Harry smiled up at him.
"Harry," Remus sobered. "I'll always be there for you." Remus pulled him into a warm embrace and ruffled his raven hair with his hand. "Impossible. Just like your father's." They laughed together.
After a few parting words, Lupin insisted Harry contact him anytime for any reason. Tonks, who was standing nearby, needlessly hugged Harry as well. She retained her position as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and would be following Harry to Hogwarts that evening anyway. Before setting off to find Ron and Hermione, Harry gave a look to the two of them.
I have a feeling I'll be seeing a bit more of Lupin around Hogwarts this year.
He smiled warmly, said good bye and scanned the throng of students for Ron and Hermione. Ron was not hard to find. His flame red hair would draw attention even if he wasn't a foot taller than practically everyone there. He was standing near the door to the train, appearing to be cornered by Luna Lovegood. Harry began walking toward him. Hermione couldn't be too far away.
He saw her just beyond where Ron was standing. She was standing in a group of girls animatedly chatting between the three. Two of the girls he knew immediately as Pavarti Patil and Lavender Brown. He didn't recognize the other student. She was relatively nondescript; long, brown hair and a moderately athletic build. The best he could surmise about her was her house placement. She was wearing Ravenclaw robes, which explained why he didn't know her. No matter, really, this platform was filled with people that he didn't know.
He caught Ron's eyes towering above the bustling students and they exchanged a brief smile. Encouraged, Harry set off to join him, paying little attention to the people he was moving through. That was unfortunate for at least one small boy, obviously a first year. Harry, looking straight over his head, walked into him, sending his packages spilling to the brick platform.
"I'm sorry!" Harry exclaimed, helping the boy to his feet. Not unlike every other star-struck first year he'd met in his years at Hogwarts the boy's eyes trailed from his Head Boy badge, directly to his forehead. They locked eyes for a moment. There was something eerily familiar about this boy. He was a little taller than most of the first-year students and they had certainly never met. But Harry, knew he'd seen this boy somewhere. As the boy stumbled away, smiling haphazardly over his collision with The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry knew his identity would plague him until he placed him in some pre-existing frame of reference. He watched him trot away, alone, until a familiar voice at his shoulder shook him from his trance.
"It's time to go home Harry." Hermione snaked her arm through his and smiled warmly as he turned to meet her eyes. He took the bag off her shoulder and slung it over his own as they walked to the train.
"Yes, it is. Let's find Ron and get a compartment."
***
Harry and Hermione quickly determined the finer points to being named Hogwart's Head students. First and foremost among the advantages was a separate car on the Hogwart's Express. The compartment was situated at the front of the train and was easily twice as large as the other compartments. Rather than the rather stiff bench seating to be found elsewhere, the Head Student's compartment had a soft squashy couch and chair not unlike the ones to be found in the House common rooms. It also had a table surrounded by a few comfortable chairs and a large picture window. It did not pass without notice that this particular car was decorated in Gryffindor colors.
"Well, this is certainly something," Hermione said as she pushed the door open.
"Er, yeah." Harry echoed her thoughts as he stared into the sea of scarlet and gold.
"I wonder what they do when the head boy and girl are from different houses?"
"I don't know." The whistle sounded and Harry looked at his watch. It indicated the time as 10:58 and the train was preparing to get underway. He nodded his head toward the compartment as silent encouragement for Hermione to enter. They flopped onto the large couch and their astonishment quickly dissolved into laughter. Harry wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in, finally relaxing.
"Did you find Ron?" she asked, voice muffled in his shirt.
"Yeah, he was taking his luggage to the baggage car. I told him where to find us." As if on cue there was a knock at the door. Hermione pulled her head up and called, "Ron, it's us, it's not like you have to knock for heaven's sake!"
The door slid open and Ron poked his head in. "Wow, this is something!" Harry laughed at the near exact statement that echoed Hermione's. He stepped in, slid the door closed behind him, and settled into am inviting squashy chair. It was clear Ron wouldn't be impressed for long. That changed about thirty minutes after the train pulled out of King's Cross.
Regardless of the cabin assignment, the scene inside played out as it had nearly every year before. Harry and Ron were hunched over the mahogany table, scrutinizing a rather temperamental chessboard and Hermione was stretched out on the couch feasting on her latest assemblage of textbooks.
"Give him the chair! Give him the chair!" Ron directed his bishop who was walking ominously toward Harry's pawn. Following orders, the bishop sat up from his chair, swung it from behind his back and it connected with Harry's pawn with a sickening "crack." They both chuckled together as the pawn's head careened across the room and landed on Hermione's leg. Hermione lowered her book, so only her scathing glare appeared above the pages. Harry and Ron quickly returned to the game as if nothing happened, but failed miserably at erasing the smiles from their faces. The boys locked eyes for a moment and both visibly relaxed. Ron nodded his head, in silent agreement with Harry's state of mind and decided it was time to engage in his favorite pastime.
"What kind of Head student compartment is this if you still have to wait on the snack trolley?" He smiled broadly at Harry as Hermione scoffed from behind her book. It was a full hour before they'd ever seen the trolley witch in previous years so Ron hadn't expected what happened next.
"Did someone call for the snack trolley?" the kind witch said brightly as she slid the door open slightly. Ron's mouth fell open, as did Harry and Hermione's, as they looked out to a fully stocked trolley. It was not only clear that the Head student's got their snacks early, they obviously got them before anyone else had picked through the selection.
Harry treated the trio, as was his custom over the years, and they sat down together for a meal between friends. They were so interested in assuaging the growls from their stomachs, they failed to close the door to the compartment and soon found themselves among guests, some invited, and some not.
Ginny, Luna, and Neville were the first to happen upon the compartment. Ginny flopped on the couch next to Hermione and Neville and Luna sat down nearly bursting for a blow-by-blow account of what had happened at Privet Drive. One thing about the wizarding world, it didn't take long for news to travel.
"Everyone is talking about it Harry," Neville said excitedly. "Did you really fight off four Death Eaters with only a tea kettle and a bottle of shampoo?" Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.
"What?"
"Well, I thought that account might've been a little skewed. But honestly, how many were there?" Harry looked from Ron to Hermione with a clearly incredulous look on his face.
"There was only one guy Neville, and I'm not entirely sure he even was a Death Eater," Harry said, inwardly dreading the multitude of rumors he was apparently going to fight as soon as the train steamed into Hogsmeade. He looked over at Hermione who was obviously not enjoying the conversation at hand. She was staring blankly out of the window, absently spinning the ring on her left hand.
He looked to Ron who apparently noticed the same thing. Ron nodded at Harry and quietly rose from his chair and knelt down between Hermione and the window. She drew her eyes away from the scenery and smiled warmly at him. He quickly kissed her on the head and returned to his chair. Harry gave Ron a grateful smile and returned his attention to Neville and the conversation he was hopelessly trapped within.
"Come on, Harry, give us just a few details. My summer consisted of hat shopping with my Gran and a rather depressing visit to St. Mungo's," Neville pleaded.
"All right," Harry said dejectedly. He really didn't want to go through this story, but felt if he shared just a few highlights Neville might leave him alone. He took a deep breath and began to talk. "Well, the guy's name is…"
"Potter," Minerva McGonagall interrupted from the open doorway. Everyone turned their attention to the rather imposing figure of the Gryffindor Head of House that stood ominously in the doorway. "You and Ms. Granger are needed in the prefect's compartment. As Head Boy and Girl you'll need to address our fifth year prefects regarding the responsibilities of their position." Hermione rose from the couch, apparently relieved for a feasible escape plan. McGonagall turned and walked down the corridor. As her footsteps grew fainter, they heard her distanced voice addressing another well-known Hogwarts student. "Good afternoon Mr. Malfoy."
Given the past association with the infamous Slytherin, the entire compartment tensed as Malfoy's footsteps grew louder. Within seconds, he was standing in the doorway. Ron and Harry got to their feet, joining Hermione who stepped in front of Ginny.
"Well, well. I do believe congratulations are in order," Malfoy said coolly.
"Congratulations for what?" Harry replied. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation. It was obvious the full count of D.A. inside the cabin were on heightened alert, but was any of it necessary? The last time he truly saw Malfoy, short of his snoring backside in the hospital wing, was shortly after he stood up to his father and fought alongside Ron and Harry at the Hog's Head Tavern.
"Well, if you're not bright enough to remember you're Head Boy I should surely rescind my sentiments," Malfoy drawled. Hermione was apparently not the only one to hear Ginny growl behind her. Malfoy lowered his eyes and glowered at her, drawing the attention of her consistently over-protective brother.
"If you've got nothing important to say Malfoy, I'd suggest you stop looking at my sister and start looking for those two overgrown warthogs you usually keep company with," Ron said quietly.
"Well, as much as I hate to agree with Weasley on anything," in deference to Ron he shot an obvious glare toward Ginny. "I'm at least comforted by the fact I knew this would be a gargantuan waste of time." He looked back to Ron.
"Then get out," Harry replied, spirits falling that Malfoy apparently hadn't changed at all. Malfoy turned on his heel and swept from the compartment. Hermione, remembering McGonagall's directive, grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him out of the doorway with her. They looked at each other and chuckled as they heard Ginny admonish her brother that she, "didn't need a protector," and in frustrated shouting declare, "no one will ever see me as more than eleven years old!"