"Oh, bugger, Sirius! Not you, too?"
Sirius Black, sitting cross-legged on the grass beneath the Whomping Willow, looked down in puzzlement on his godson. Harry was lying with his head propped against the rough bark of the tree, his eyes closed, his glasses discarded to one side. His hands were folded across his chest in what appeared to be a relaxed manner, but close examination revealed that his interlocked fingers were tensed like the links of a steel chain being pulled from two directions. A deep furrow marked his brow just beneath his lightning scar.
"All I asked," Sirius said, "was whether you intended to propose to Hermione before the graduation ceremony or after."
"First Ron, now you," Harry sighed wearily. "I just...don't want to talk about it, okay?"
"What is it, Harry?" Sirius said with growing concern. "I thought you sorted out your feelings for Hermione a long time ago. Nothing's changed -- has it?"
"Everything's changed," Harry said. Though his eyes remained closed, Harry could tell from the scuffling sounds beside him that Sirius was rising to a standing position. Even unseen, his godfather was a dominating force whose very presence radiated authority and strength. Harry shifted uncomfortably, the muscles in his shoulders growing stiff as they pressed against the gnarled roots of the tree. He could almost feel Sirius' eyes as they burned down on him.
"You're not telling me that you don't love Hermione any more?" Sirius said, his voice comprised of equal parts of shock and alarm.
"It's not that," Harry grunted with a note of unmistakable anguish. "If anything, I love her more than ever. More than I thought possible."
"Then what the bloody hell is the problem?" Sirius growled, his patience eroding rapidly. "When two people love each other, they get married. It's as simple as that."
"It's not that simple," Harry said. His left hand felt for his glasses, which were lying on a tuft of grass just out of reach. Realizing that he had tossed them too far away in his indifferent haste, he blew a weary sigh and drew his wand.
"Accio glasses."
Harry felt his glasses thump into the palm of his upraised hand. Pocketing his wand, he pulled his glasses on and surveyed Sirius through slightly smudged lenses.
"We're not kids any more, Hermione and I," Harry said. "In two weeks we become certified wizards. We have to go out into the world and find out where we belong."
"You belong together," Sirius stated, as if the matter were settled and any rebuttal on Harry's part pointless. Harry responded with a humorless laugh.
"Hermione is the smartest witch Hogwarts has seen this century," Harry said flatly. "Which is a damn sight better than being the youngest Quidditch player in that same period. So I won Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup. She's going to change the whole bloody wizarding world! In Parvati's words, she's going to 'Hold it upside-down by the ankles and shake out all the bollocks.' Something like that. She's going to make a real difference, Sirius."
"And you're going to be beside her every step of the way," Sirius said resolutely.
"Why?" Harry said blankly.
"WHY?" Sirius fairly roared. "Because you LOVE each other! What other reason IS there?"
"If I really love her as much as you seem to think I do," Harry said, "then I have to let her go."
"Let her GO?" Sirius exploded. "What kind of sodding blather is THAT?"
"I'd only hold her back, don't you see?" Harry said, his eyes fastening on his godfather's imploringly. "Saying 'I love you' doesn't make the world's problems go away. There's no such thing as a 'storybook marriage.' It takes work, and time, to make a solid marriage. A husband and wife have to devote themselves to each other. They have to focus on their marriage, keep building on it to keep it strong so it doesn't come crashing down around their ears.
"Look at you and Michelle."
"What?" Sirius said, taken completely by surprise by Harry's statement. "Me and Michelle? Why -- she's the best thing that ever happened to me. This last year with her has been the best time of my life."
"So, you like living in France, then?" Harry said casually. "Is Michelle's chateau as nice as our house?"
"It's...fine," Sirius said unconvincingly.
"You'd much rather she live here with you," Harry said. "I've heard you say it a hundred times. But you continue to live there, because of Michelle's job, and because she's happy there. You do it for her. You put her happiness before yours. Because you love her."
"Damn right I do," Sirius said. "As much as you love Hermione." But Harry was not to be swayed so easily.
"Yes, I love her. And that means I have to do what's best for her. Hermione has great things to accomplish, Sirius. But she can't do that if she's tied down to me."
"Tied down?" Sirius exclaimed. "Is that all you think marriage is, Harry? You make it sound like a -- a prison sentence."
"For Hermione, it would be," Harry said. "She'd be sentenced to a home, and a family -- "
"Merlin forbid!" Sirius spat caustically. "Why, I'd rank it right up there with the Unforgivable Curses. 'Cruciatus.' 'Avada Kedavra.' 'I take this woman to be my lawfully wedded wife.' Worst one of the lot, no question about it."
"My mind is made up, Sirius," Harry said.
"It damn well is made up -- " Sirius snapped, " -- of hippogriff droppings!"
Sirius jerked his right leg back, and Harry flinched, fearing for just a moment that his godfather was actually angry enough to kick him. But Sirius' booted foot swept past Harry and struck the knot at the base of the tree, freezing the violent branches into quiescence.
Harry watched in silence as Sirius stormed off in the direction of Hogsmeade (either to his room at the Hogsmeade Inn, or, more likely, to the Three Broomsticks for a tankard of ale). Without knowing he was doing so, Harry began to finger the chain around his neck, twisting it around his finger until it began to tug at the back of his neck. This sensation seemed to awaken something in him. Releasing the chain as if it were burning his finger, Harry bolted up so suddenly that he had to lean against the tree until a momentary wave of dizziness passed. When his brain cleared a minute later, he had made a decision.
Harry slipped into the secret passage at the base of the tree and began to walk. He was in no hurry. The cool dampness of the underground passage was refreshing after the heat of the day. His mind was a blank slate as he continued on until he reached a familiar stairway. Just above him, he knew, was the Shrieking Shack. He was now within the borders of Hogsmeade, outside the barrier of protective Charms surrounding Hogwarts.
Harry reached into his robes, pulled out the chain until his hand folded around the object depending from it. He could not see it, nor the chain to which it was attached. But his touch told him it was there. He closed his eyes and concentrated, using the object in his hand as a point of focus. As he steadied his breathing, his mind formed an image. Harry concentrated harder until the scene in his mind was sharp and clear.
The next moment, with a soft popping sound, Harry was gone.
Author's Note: Apologies again for the shortness of the chapter, but it served its purpose. We now have a cauldronful of questions to be answered. Where did Harry go? What is the mysterious object hanging around his neck which none but Ron has seen? And will Harry ever come to his senses and realize what a berk he's being? All will be answered next time. Tune in again next week...and thanks for reading.