Author's Note: Hello everyone! It's time to end the cliffhanger that made you all go "ewww!" Thank you everyone for your reviews. On June 17th, I noticed over on PK's forums that it was dolphingurl's birthday, so a happy belated birthday to her. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to her as sort of a late birthday present. Many thanks to Nitya for her speedy beta job. You rock girl!
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
REVELATIONS
"Go to Dumbledore, Harry, now!" Hermione told him. "He must know this immediately."
Harry nodded. "Yes, you're right. The Order must know this. I just hope Professor Dumbledore is up this late at night." He got up and headed to the portrait hole. "Erm-Hermione?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks."
Her features, which looked so alarmed only moments ago, softened into a smile. "You're welcome. I'll stay up for you."
"Okay," he said and left.
He found Professor Dumbledore, however, not in his office, but on the first floor with Professor Trelawney and the centaur Firenze. Professor Trelawney was looking dazed and confused while Firenze spoke to Dumbledore.
"Mars continues to be bright, but I saw both Phobos and Deimos tonight, the small moons of Mars. Something gravely important has happened," Firenze said.
"My discussion with Professor Trelawney just now has also speculated as such," Dumbledore said, to which Professor Trelawney spun and looked at him, amazed.
"I don't recall giving you any warnings, Professor," she said.
"My dear, you made a prophecy," Dumbledore informed her.
Firenze frowned.
"A prophecy? Then why don't I remember it?"
"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry called, rushing down the stairs.
Dumbledore turned. "Harry? What is it?"
"I know what that important thing is," Harry said, reaching the bottom where he commenced to try to catch his breath-running from Gryffindor Tower to the first floor could be quite the chore.
Professor Trelawney looked quite excited. "You saw? You had a vision?" she asked, grabbing Harry by the upper arms and looking into his eyes wildly.
"If you could call it that," Harry said, glancing up at Professor Dumbledore, a plea in his eyes.
"Sibyll, I'm afraid that is all I will need you for tonight. Try to get a decent night's sleep. Firenze, I thank you deeply for your report. It is an honor to have you here," Dumbledore said, moving to Harry's side.
"The honor is mine," Firenze said before turning and walking away.
"Harry, if you would accompany me, please," Dumbledore said as he started back towards his office.
"Yes, sir," he replied, falling into step behind Dumbledore. Once they were out of earshot of the others, he asked, "Sir, may I ask what Professor Trelawney said in her prophecy?"
"Certainly. Reciting it is a good way to help an old man remember. 'The month of war is at its end but the constellation Aries still reigns...A new power has arisen from the darkness; it will serve its master well…All innocence shall became tainted, no purity will remain…But there is still hope if the power is taken away…' I look forward to whatever light you may shine upon this, Harry," Dumbledore said.
They reached the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore muttered the password, and both he and Harry rode the revolving stairwell up to his office where Dumbledore opened the door and ushered him inside.
"Now, Harry, tell me what you've seen," he said once he sat behind his desk.
"They were just flashes really," Harry said, "but they were clear. I was in Voldemort's head and I saw…I saw a baby before I felt his…pleasure."
Dumbledore sat back and steepled his fingers. "A child," he murmured.
"Seth."
He glanced back at Harry. "Seth? How appropriate for Voldemort. The Egyptian God of War, Strength, and, in the myths later on, Evil. I'm surprised he didn't choose 'Anubis.' That seems more fitting of his style."
"Sir?"
"Anubis was the God of Death," Dumbledore told him.
"Oh."
Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked to the window. "This is a very interesting turn of events. I can only imagine the plans Voldemort has for his son. Yet again, this may just turn back to his quest for immortality. Some people say that having offspring-continuing the bloodline-is the only way for immortality. He will pass his evil onto his son."
"I think…I think that Bellatrix Lestrange is the baby's mother," Harry said darkly.
"That does not surprise me. Bellatrix has always been his favorite female Death Eater. But the maternity of the child does not matter," he said, turning back to Harry. "Voldemort will not care about that-he will only think of the opportunities the child will present." He looked pensive for a moment. "He does not know love; therefore he could never provide his own son with it. I daresay that the child, if left in the care of Lord Voldemort alone, could die."
"Die?"
"Oh, a child can be provided with everything he or she needs, but if he or she is not given an ounce of affection, the child will die," Dumbledore explained.
He sat down and brooded before looking back up at Harry and asking, "Do you have an idea of where they were-the child and Voldemort?"
"All I saw was a cellar and then a room. I don't know," Harry replied.
"Does Voldemort know that you have this information?" he asked.
"No. At least, I don't think he does. He didn't seem like he detected me," Harry replied.
Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. It's late. You should head off back to your dorm and try to have a good night's sleep."
Harry got up, ready to exit.
"But Harry-"
"Yes?"
"Try to clear your mind beforehand," Dumbledore advised.
"Yes, sir. Good night."
"Good night, Harry."
*****
When Harry returned to the common room he found not only Hermione waiting up for him, but Ron too.
"When did you wake up?" Harry asked when he entered.
Ron yawned and pointed in Hermione's direction. "She actually had the-" He yawned again. "-nerve to go up to our dorm-a room filled with four sleeping boys, mind you-and wake me up." He yawned for a third time. "And I was having a nice dream."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't you want to know the latest on Voldemort?" she asked.
He shuddered, but the sleep had left his eyes. "Is that what you woke me up for?" He looked over at Harry. "What'd you see, mate?"
Harry grimaced. "A baby."
Ron's brows furrowed. "A baby? How does that have to deal with You-Know-Who?"
Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "Don't be thick, Ron-wake up and put two and two together!"
He scowled. "I'm thinking, I'm think…EWW!" He looked desperately at Harry. "Please tell me what I'm thinking isn't true!"
"Well, if you're thinking that Voldemort now has a baby, you're right. He has a son," Harry told him and watched as Ron went an unpleasant shade of green.
"Who on earth would shag him?" Ron gasped.
Hermione frowned. "That's what I've been wondering."
"Well, the mother is Bellatrix Lestrange, but I…" he trailed off and sat down on a sofa, thinking.
"You what?" Ron asked.
"I don't think that's the way the baby was conceived," Harry said.
This time Ron's eyebrows raised. "And what other way is there to make a baby?"
"Well, Muggles have different ways of conceiving a child, other than…that way," Hermione said.
"Like what?" Ron demanded.
"Well, surrogate motherhood, donors, in vitro fertilization…"
"What's that?"
"Well, it's when a woman has her eggs-"
"Stop! Never mind, I don't want to know," Ron said, cringing.
Suddenly, a voice drifted up into Harry's mind…an echo from a dream.
"As stupid as the Muggle ways are, sometimes they can be useful."
"That's it," Harry whispered. "That's how Voldemort did it!"
"What? In vitro?"
"Yes! I had a dream over the summer involving Voldemort and Wormtail when he found out that the procedure had been a success. He may hate Muggles, but he had to use their technology to quietly have one of his most faithful Death Eaters impregnated!"
"That's brilliant, Harry," Hermione said, grinning. "Brilliant, if not disgusting."
"Huh?" was Ron's response.
"Don't ask, Ron," she advised. "Trust me, you don't want to know."
*****
Before any of them knew it, the Easter holiday was upon them and Hermione was ready to go. Her trunk was packed and she was waiting for the carriages to arrive to take her to Hogsmeade station. Harry was going to miss her. He and Ron stood outside of the castle, waiting with her.
"Well, it's only a week," Hermione said, although it sounded like it was more for herself than either Harry or Ron.
"Yeah, here's hoping it doesn't rain on you all the while you're home," Ron said with a grin.
"Thanks Ron," she said and rolled her eyes before hugging him. "See you."
"Bye," he murmured before releasing her.
She turned to Harry. "Take care of yourself," she said, hugging him too. "Try not to have any more visions."
He laughed. "I'll try," he said as he pulled away and looked into her eyes. "You take care of yourself too."
"I will," she promised as the carriages arrived. "I better go."
He nodded. "See you in a week."
She smiled. "Bye."
With that, she grabbed her trunk and walked to a carriage. Before she entered, she turned back and waved good-bye.
Harry waved, as did Ron. "A week without Hermione," Harry said sadly.
"I know. At least we won't have her nagging us about our homework," Ron said.
Harry gave a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah."
They stayed there until the carriages rolled away. Ron turned to Harry and asked, "So mate, it's just you and me. What do you want to do?"
"I dunno. What do you feel like doing?"
He shrugged. "Nothing really. How about a wizard's chess match?"
"Yeah, sure. Okay," Harry replied, and followed Ron back up to the common room, but his mind was on the train and with Hermione, while his new-found feelings made his heart ache as he already had begun to miss her.
*****
A couple of hours later found Harry in the Room of Requirement. Ron had successfully defeated him in wizard's chess six times before Harry called it quits. When he got up to leave, Ron had asked him where he was going, and Harry merely told him that he was going to the library to get some homework done.
"Merlin, what has Hermione done to you?" Ron groaned.
Harry chuckled as he thought about it. Wait until Ron found out about what he was really doing.
Harry examined the broomstick floating in midair in front of him. He thought it looked good. He had applied all of the spells and charms that were required on a broomstick-Cushioning Charms, Braking Charms…the works. He was steadily going through the list that Professor Lupin had written for him, adding the specialty ones as well. It was almost done.
"All that's left is this Anti-Hexing Charm and that's it," Harry said to himself. He grinned. He couldn't wait to take the broom out for a test flight. The end drawing near, he inhaled excitedly, waved his wand, and murmured the incantation. The broomstick glowed red for several moments, and then dropped to the floor. Harry bent over and scooped it up, examining every detail of it. He had created that broom-the broom that the Marauders were going to make. He just hoped it worked.
Grinning, he decided to finally tell Ron about his secret project. He checked his watch. It was nearly dinnertime. Harry figured he could find his best friend already down in the Great Hall. He sighed. Morning would be a much better time to give his broom a test flight. He'd wait to tell Ron about it until then.
"I'll be back tomorrow morning," he told the room. "Please keep this stuff safe until then."
The room shimmered and then everything, like always, disappeared. Harry grinned again, before opening the door and leaving.
After dinner, Ron and Ginny settled down on the floor in front of the fire to play a game of Exploding Snap. They had invited Harry to join them, but he had declined with a smile before going up to the dormitory and getting out his mother's diary once again. He got through the rest of February and read all of March's entries of her fifth year. April came and went before he read through the panic of May as her O.W.L.s drew nearer. Before he knew it, he was into June's entries when Ron opened the door tiredly. He quickly closed the diary and slid it under his pillow.
"Hey Harry," Ron greeted, and yawned. "What were you reading?"
Harry frowned. He had hoped that Ron wouldn't have noticed. "Oh, just some book Hermione said I should read sometime," he lied, turning away and glancing out the window.
"What's it about?" he asked.
"Er-" He racked his brain. Suddenly he had remembered something Hermione had told him about long ago. "It's actually a very long poem. Ever heard of Beowulf?"
Ron gave him a reproachful look. "You're reading that?"
"I take it you have," Harry replied with a smirk. He really wanted to give a sigh of relief. "It's not that bad, really-monsters and all."
"Haven't you had enough monsters in your life already, Harry?" Ron asked as he dug around in his trunk for something to sleep in.
"Yes, but this one isn't real," Harry said.
Ron looked over at him as he pulled out a pair of pajamas. "So you're a fan of monsters you don't have to kill?"
Harry laughed. "You could say that."
He shook his head. "Mate, whether you like monsters in real life or in fairy tales, you're weird."
"Thanks, Ron," Harry murmured before laughing again.
*****
The next morning found Harry and Ron right outside of the Room of Requirement as Harry paced three times, concentrating hard.
"What is it that you want to show me?" he asked as Harry paced.
"Just wait," Harry told him as the door finally appeared. He turned to Ron and grinned. "Ready?"
"I've been bloody well ready since you said, 'Hey Ron, come with me. I've got something you'll want to see.' That was ten bloody minutes ago!"
"Okay, okay," Harry said with a laugh as he opened up the door before stepping inside, Ron following right on his heels. Before them was the Phoenix, hovering a mere inch above the worktable Harry had used to make it.
"Holy s-"
"What do you think?" Harry asked.
"When did you do this?" Ron queried, gaping. "How did you know how to do it?"
"When Hermione and I went into Sirius's vault this past summer we found some blueprints of a broom that he, my father, and Professor Lupin were going to make. I sort of…decided to make it in their honor," Harry explained.
Ron turned back to him, still gaping. "And you didn't ask me to help?"
Harry shrugged. "I wanted to do this on my own. It's called the Phoenix."
"When did you find time to do this?"
"Off and on. I started it right after Sinead's death." He frowned.
Ron gave him a skeptical look. "It only took you four months to make this? Are you sure it works?"
"I dunno. That's what today's for. I would like to take it on a test flight."
Ron's eyes widened in horror. "Is that what you wanted me for?"
Harry laughed. "No, I'll test my own invention. But I want you there in case I actually get off the ground and plummet to my death."
"Not funny, Harry." He examined the broom before whistling appreciatively. "Even if it doesn't work, it's still a thing of beauty. Absolutely wicked, Harry." He touched the shaft before turning back towards Harry with a gleam in his eye. "Let's take it out for a test spin."
Harry stepped forward and grabbed the broom, letting Ron lead him as they headed outside. "If this works," Harry was telling him, "I have to let Professor Lupin know."
"Why?"
"Because he gave me the list of spells I used on this," Harry explained. "And I promised I'd let him have a go on it when I was done."
Ron just laughed. "Sounds like the boy in him is trying to come out," he said in between chuckles.
"I guess so." They walked into an open field. "Ready?"
"Yeah. I want to see how fast it can accelerate," Ron said eagerly.
"I have no idea, but we're about to find out," Harry said as he swung his leg over the broomstick. He made a silent prayer, hoping that it would work. Then, he kicked off from the ground and, to his amazement, he soared like a bullet into the air. He heard Ron's whoop of excitement as Harry guided the broom around. It was as though he was just riding his Firebolt. Harry couldn't believe it. He laughed and gave a yell of triumph as he soared around.
"Hey Ron!" he yelled down. "Go find Professor Lupin! He's got to see this!"
Ron gave him a thumbs up and ran off while Harry maneuvered around, enjoying the wind as it blew through his hair. He decided to see just how fast the broom could go, so he laid flat against the handle and tore off like a rocket. For a moment, he wondered just how fast he was going. It certainly felt like he was going as fast, if not faster, than he could on his Firebolt. He made a loop and headed back for the castle, slowing down so that he could spot Ron and Professor Lupin when they approached. He did not have to wait very long.
Ron and Lupin were sprinting out to the field. Harry almost laughed at the sight. He flew down to meet them.
When Lupin saw him, his eyes went wide. "Sweet Mother of Merlin, it works!"
Harry landed neatly and dismounted. "So, who wants to give it a try?"
"How fast does it go?" Lupin asked as he marveled at the broom.
"I don't know. Let's find out," Harry said, grinning.
"I'll have a go on it," Ron said. "You two can run tests and stuff."
Harry handed the broom over to Ron. "Okay. Be careful though. Honestly, I had this odd feeling that I was going faster than what I could do on my Firebolt. Do you think that's possible, Professor?"
"I don't know, but we'll find out. After all, the Firebolt can achieve what speed how fast?" Lupin said as Ron mounted the broomstick.
"One-hundred and fifty miles per hour in just ten seconds," Ron recited.
Lupin laughed. "Ron, you sound like a broomstick magazine."
"There aren't any kinks in this thing, are there?" he asked Harry.
"I don't think so. We'll see if it bucks you off," Harry replied with a wink.
"Gee, thanks," Ron muttered.
Lupin raised his wand and muttered a spell. The Phoenix glowed a bright orange for a moment, and then went back to its normal color. "Okay, Ron, give us a show."
He nodded. "Okay." Then he kicked off from the ground and tore into the air while Lupin timed him with his watch.
After ten seconds, Lupin flicked his wand. Suddenly, readouts appeared in the air before them. "Well, would you look at that," Lupin murmured, turning to Harry and grinning. "It's actually five miles per hour faster than the Firebolt."
Harry's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?"
"Yes," Lupin said, laughing. "Harry, you did it! You made the Marauders' broom! I know your father would have been so proud-Sirius too." He grinned. "And I'm proud of you too."
"Thanks," Harry said, an immense pride bringing a bright smile to his face. "I just can't believe it actually works!"
Lupin laughed. "You don't give yourself enough credit. So," His eyes sparkled, "when Ron's done, would you mind if I had a turn?"
"Not at all. I mean, the broom is your design," Harry said.
"James and Sirius' actually. Peter and I only had a little input," Lupin told him.
"I wouldn't think that Wormtail would have had much input in it," Harry said darkly. "He wasn't the brightest now, was he?"
"No, he wasn't, that's certainly true," Lupin agreed as Ron came in for a landing, laughing the entire way.
"That was wicked!" he said.
"Professor Lupin would like a turn now," Harry told him.
"Okay. Careful though, Professor-it's really fast! How'd the test go?" Ron asked.
"One-fifty-five," Harry replied as Lupin took off.
"Blimey! That's faster than the Firebolt!" Ron exclaimed.
"I know."
"Bloody hell!" he said in awe.
After Professor Lupin had finished his turn, he excused himself and went back to the castle. Harry and Ron spent the rest of the morning and a good part of the afternoon taking turns on the Phoenix.
"Harry," Ron said after he landed again, "I think you may want to adjust whatever Cushioning Charm you used. Being up there for more than fifteen minutes doesn't exactly feel good."
Harry nodded. "I'll check into it."
"I think I'm ready to go inside. My arse is killing me," Ron said. Harry noticed that he was walking a little bowlegged.
"Alright," Harry agreed, taking the broomstick back from Ron.
"It's a great broom though, Harry," Ron said.
Harry grinned and looked down at the broom. He'd have to research a new Cushioning Charm, or maybe use the patented one, before he could fly it again. Provided, he thought as his feelings suddenly and unexplainably grew sour, that I live that long. After all, how much longer did he have before Voldemort decided it was time to kill him?
"Hey Ron?"
"Yeah?"
"Er-I was just thinking…well, if something were to ever happen to me, I'd want you to have the broom," Harry said awkwardly.
Ron stared at him. "What do you mean?"
Harry frowned. He didn't know about the prophecy. He didn't know that Harry was probably never going to live to his twentieth birthday. He didn't know that it was up to Harry to try to kill Voldemort. But he should, Harry decided. Ron was his best friend, and it was time to bring him into the loop. "What I mean is that I may not live long enough to truly use it."
"What are you talking about? Does this have something to do with You-Know-Who? You've beaten him before-"
"But can I be lucky enough to beat him again? That's the question, Ron," Harry said grimly.
"Can't somebody else do it? You've had too many turns with You-Know-Who."
"No, Ron, only I can."
"Why?"
Harry sighed. "D'you remember that prophecy that Voldemort-" Ron cringed. "-wanted me to get from the Department of Mysteries last summer?"
"Yes, of course I do, but you said that Neville dropped-"
"He did, but I know what it says anyway, thanks to Professor Dumbledore."
Ron's eyes went wide. "Professor Dumbledore knew what it said?"
"Yes," Harry replied.
"Then why didn't he tell you before?" Ron asked, outraged.
"He didn't think I was ready," Harry replied.
"That's bullocks!" Ron muttered darkly before looking up anxiously at Harry. "So what did the prophecy say?"
Harry took a deep breath and recited the words that had been engrained into his memory. "'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but He will have the power the Dark Lord knows not…And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.' "
Ron stared at him. "Bloody hell…you've got to kill him-"
"Or he has to kill me," Harry finished. "Cheery, isn't it?"
He looked mortified. "That's awful! Fate has certainly dealt you a crappy hand, mate."
"Yeah, no kidding. But Ron, you can't tell anyone, okay?"
"What about Hermione?"
Harry grimaced. "She-er-already knows."
"WHAT?"
"Shush!" Harry urged.
"You told her already? And you didn't tell me? When did you tell her?" Ron demanded.
"It was on accident! I didn't mean to tell her, really. It just sort of slipped out," Harry said lamely.
"When did you tell her?" Ron repeated.
Harry sighed. "The day after Christmas."
"Christmas!" he hissed.
"I should have told you sooner, I know, but I didn't want you freaking out about it," Harry said. "I didn't want you to treat me differently, knowing that I'm a marked man and that I may die tomorrow, next month, or twelve years from now! It's my burden and I really didn't want to have to share my burden with either you or Hermione. But now you know. Now you know what it means to be Harry Potter."
Ron looked quite ashamed. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry I'm acting like a prat." He frowned. "Is that the reason why you've been spending so much time with Hermione? Are you two preparing or something?"
Harry shook his head. "No, Hermione and I are simply studying. She's-er-well, she's actually tutoring me."
"Tutoring? Why?"
He couldn't tell Ron about trying to become Head Boy. He didn't want to deliver two blows in one day. "I figure I might as well do my best and receive some good marks before I die."
Ron frowned. "Does she know that's your motive behind it?"
Harry shook his head. "And you're not going to tell her it is."
"No," Ron said. "I won't tell her."
"Thanks." Harry looked up at the sky. "Storm clouds are coming," he murmured to the darkening western sky. "We had better get back inside the castle."
By the time they got to the great oak front doors, it was beginning to sprinkle. Both Harry and Ron could hear the thunder in the distance.
"Glad we're no longer out there," Ron said
Harry nodded. They headed up the stairs, and were well on their way to Gryffindor Tower when they ran into Professor McGonagall.
"Good afternoon, Professor," Harry greeted.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Potter, I've been meaning to talk to you for the past couple of days. Would you follow me, please?" McGonagall asked.
"Er-sure. Ron, would you take this?" he asked, handing the Phoenix to him before following McGonagall back down the stairs.
"Now," McGonagall said when they were seated in her office, "I would like to talk to you about your marks this past term."
Harry gulped. "Is something wrong?"
"Wrong? No. On the contrary, your marks this past term are the best I've ever seen out of you. Even Professor Snape could not muster up an excuse to give you a poor mark. You've done exceptionally well this term, Mr. Potter-nearly as well as Hermione Granger." She looked at him sternly over the top of her glasses. "I've always known that you have been capable of such marks, but what I am wondering is, why now? Why is it that only now are you getting good marks?"
Harry frowned. "I guess I never really cared before. As long as I survived the year and moved on to the next one, I was happy."
"Does that not satisfy you any longer?" McGonagall asked.
He scratched his head absently. "I guess it doesn't anymore. My parents were the Head Boy and Girl and I'm…I'm nothing."
"You're the captain of the Quidditch team," Professor McGonagall reminded him.
"And how long did it take you to convince Professor Dumbledore?" Harry demanded, anger stirring inside of him. "He feels that I can't handle any burden placed on me, like I'm some fragile piece of china! He didn't make me prefect even though me, you and him knew that I should have been one. I know he was hesitant about making me Quidditch captain. And I know that he'll pass me over yet again for Head Boy, just because he thinks I 'can't handle' it. Where does he get off saying that anyway?"
"Albus Dumbledore is one of the wisest men I know, Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "But even wise men make mistakes, as I know he did in concerns to the prefect's badge and you. Believe me when I say that he may have underestimated you once, but he will not do so again. One other thing, Mr. Potter-do not presume that you are the front-runner for becoming Head Boy next year and that you are even worthy. There are several candidates and your lack of maturity here makes me wonder if I should nominate you at all. There are gentlemen in your year who possess just as much leadership abilities as you have, and have the maturity and the marks to back it up. Do not blame Professor Dumbledore for your lack of success-you've had quite the hand in it yourself!
"However, generally I find you to be a mature young man and I can understand your frustration about the prefect's badge. While I am surprised that Professor Dumbledore told you in the first place, any jealousy you may feel towards Mr. Weasley is well hidden and you have not let any ill feelings ruin your friendship. I find that admirable. And in these dark times there is no question that you have the most experience of all of the students in the school when it comes to sticky situations. You possess a great amount of leadership ability. The younger students in that little organization of yours admire you greatly, even though I doubt you realize it. You truly have the capacity to be Head Boy, Potter, and your improvement in your marks only shows how much you desire to be recognized. But don't get your hopes up. There are several young men that the staff can and will consider to recommend. Your improvements could be deemed too little too late. I'm terribly sorry, Potter, but I doubt that you will take after your father and become Head Boy."
A heavy weight had settled in Harry's chest. "It's alright," he murmured quietly. "I've screwed up over the years, I know. I guess-I guess I just wanted to make something of my life before it all comes crashing down, and the war takes it over completely." He got up. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall."
"Mr. Potter, you can do a lot more than you think you can do and you can be a lot more than you think you can be," she told him. "Remember that."
He nodded slightly and exited, heading back towards Gryffindor Tower. He felt angry and sad at the same time. All of that work, all of that time Hermione had wasted to tutor him; all of it might be for nothing. He sighed as he approached the Fat Lady.
"April showers," he said, and the portrait swung forward.
He expected to find Ron sitting in the common room, waiting for him, but he was not there. Instead he found Neville sitting in a chair, doing his homework.
"Hey Neville, have you seen Ron?" Harry asked.
"Er-yeah. He showed up not too long ago with a broomstick, which he took upstairs to the dorm. Then he left," Neville told him.
"Left? Did he say where he was going?" Harry asked.
"No. He just left," Neville replied.
Harry frowned. "Alright. Thanks." He turned and decided, instead of searching for Ron, he'd let Ron come to him. He headed up to the dormitory, plopping down on his four poster and kicking off his shoes before grabbing his mother's diary and reading again.
15 June, 1976
Today was an interesting day. I took my Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. today. I hope I did alright. Potter, Black, and Remus seemed pretty confident about themselves. I could hear their boasting echoing off of the hallways.
Belinda, Zelda, Zelda's Hufflepuff friend Nora, and I were by the lake when the fight happened. Potter and Black went after Snape. I tried to stop them-to defend Snape even-but Snape had the nerve to call me a Mudblood! What a greasy git! It's no wonder that they call him 'Snivellus.' And then, Potter tried to get me to go out with him-again! You'd think he'd get it through that thick skull of his that I don't like him! What an insufferable prat!
I need to study. If Potter comes near me anymore today, I'll hex him.
Lily
Harry stared at the entry. It was the day that he had seen in Snape's Pensieve a year ago. Now he knew his mother's point of view on that day. She had skipped a lot of details, but it still relayed the anger she exhibited that day. He sighed and turned the page.
16 June, 1976
So Potter came up to me this morning before breakfast and asked me if he could talk to me alone. This was really early in the morning…his friends weren't even up yet. I was so mad at him though, that I said no. He sat down anyway. Then he apologized about yesterday. He said that while Snape deserved everything he got, he shouldn't have tried to use Snape to get me to go out with him. He called himself immature. Honestly, this is a side of James Potter that I have never seen before. But really, it's not me who he should be apologizing to, is it? Snape was humiliated. I may not like him very much, but no one deserves that.
The Transfiguration O.W.L. was today. I think I did well, but Potter and Black certainly scored the most points during the practical portion of the test. It was quite the spectacle and the examiners loved it.
I am looking forward to the end of O.W.L. examinations. They have completely worn me out. There are still a few more to go. I will manage. I don't know about Belinda though. She seems hysterical and she's studying more than I am. We'll pull through.
Lily
Harry closed the diary as he heard footsteps approaching. He stuffed the book back under his pillow as the door opened to reveal Ron. "Hey," Harry greeted. "Where were you?"
"I took a walk. I had some things to think about. What did Professor McGonagall want?" Ron asked.
"She praised me about my marks improving this past term," Harry told him.
Ron gave him a funny look. "That's odd."
"Yeah. So what did you have to think about?" Harry asked as Ron sat down on his bed.
Ron's ears turned red. "I was just sort of thinking about your prophecy." He frowned. "You don't have much time left."
"Thanks for the reminder," Harry grimaced.
"Sorry, but it's got me thinking that, hell, any one of us could die in this war. We both could die tomorrow, Harry, and neither of us will have had all of the experiences that adults do."
"That's certainly true," Harry agreed. "Were you thinking about any particular adult experiences?" he added with a grin.
Ron's face flushed. "Surprisingly, I wasn't thinking about that. Actually, I was thinking more about-and don't laugh at me, Harry-I was thinking about love."
Harry didn't laugh. "You're afraid you'll die without ever experiencing love?"
"Real love. So-erm-I was thinking that-er-perhaps I should finally…that I should finally tell this girl that I-erm-fancy her." His face was beet red.
Harry grinned. "You should. You would be a braver man than I am. After all, Cho had to approach me."
"Really? You think I should?"
"Absolutely. Who's this girl anyway? Do I know her?" he asked.
"Er-well...yeah."
Harry raised his eyebrows.
"Er-it's…it's…it's…" His face was getting, if possible, redder.
"It's who?" Harry demanded.
"Hermione!" Ron shouted quickly.
Harry felt the color drain out of his cheeks and his anger ignite like a bonfire. A deep black hole of jealousy entered his heart.
Ron was looking at him anxiously. "What? What is it?"
Harry tried to look calm as he worked on stamping out his anger. The black hole remained, but he was pleased that his voice was calm and steady when he murmured, "Nothing. It's just that I'm a little surprised." In actuality, part of him had known about Ron's feelings for her for a long time. He gave Ron a hard look. "Are you positive you fancy her?"
Ron's eyes widened and he gave Harry a defensive look. "What do you mean, 'are you positive?' Of course I'm positive!"
What was he going to do? How could two best friends fall for the same girl? How was he going to deal with this? He didn't see how Ron or Hermione could ever possibly fancy each other. They bickered far too much. Granted, in all of those shows Aunt Petunia watched during the day, the bickering meant an underlying tension, and not one that ended up with the two slapping each other. Instead they usually wound up…
Harry barely was able to control his grimace. He did not want to think about Ron, Hermione, and that.
But what if Ron somehow got it into his head that bickering with a girl all the time meant that he felt something for her? What if he was just living under a delusion?
Ron was tapping his foot impatiently, waiting for an answer. Harry cleared his throat. "I didn't want you to take that the wrong way, Ron. I certainly didn't mean it that way. I'm just trying to look out for what's best for both you and Hermione."
"What's best? What's that supposed to mean?"
Harry frowned. "You two are my best friends. I don't want either of you to get hurt."
"Get hurt?" Suddenly Ron's eyes sparkled. "Did Hermione say something to you? Does she fancy me as well?"
"No, that's not what I meant! I don't know how Hermione feels about you," Harry replied. "What I meant was, let's think things through before you go rushing off and proclaiming to Hermione that you fancy her. She may not feel the same."
Ron sighed. "It's definitely a risk."
"Hermione could fancy someone else. She doesn't exactly tell us about who she has feelings for."
"Krum," Ron muttered darkly.
"She never told us she felt anything for him," Harry reminded him. "As it is, I think she's really mad at him because of the letter she got after her birthday and then the magazine article."
"Yeah. What a git."
"As it is, if you truly desire to…become her boyfriend," Harry said, controlling his cringe, "I have to know a few things first."
Ron looked up. "Overprotective, aren't you, Harry? Okay, what do you want to know?"
"First, is there anyone else out there who you may have the remotest feelings for?" Harry asked.
Ron sat up straighter and Harry noticed his eyes wander slightly down to the floor. His face began to turn red. "Well…"
Hope restored itself slightly as Harry leaned forward anxiously. "Who?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Ron muttered.
"Try me," Harry replied.
His face flushed even more. "It sounds unbelievable even to me," Ron said with a sigh of defeat. "Luna Lovegood."
Harry jerked back in surprise. "Really?"
"I don't know how!" Ron said suddenly, as if he needed to explain himself. "But after the dementor attack in Hogsmeade, we had to spend all of that time in the hospital. After you, Hermione, and Ginny left, she was the only person I had to talk to. I really didn't want to, but she just kept chatting and I wanted her to shut up, but instead I found myself chatting along with her. And she listened to me so well-better than you and Hermione, even. I felt she truly was interested in everything I had to say-everything! Even the stupid things. I mean, I know she listened to me because look at what she gave me on my birthday! She gave me one of the rarest chocolate frog cards around! She's crazy to have given that away, but-"
"She fancies you, Ron, and you know it," Harry reminded him.
He blushed again. "Yeah."
"And how do you feel about her?"
Ron frowned. "I'm rather confused about it all. She's weird, Harry, and yet I enjoyed talking to her. She's carefree. She doesn't care what people think about her at all. She talks about some insane stuff. But she sat there in that bed and listened to me while I rambled on and on about everything I'm interested in. I don't think I've ever had anyone listen to me so intently before. I really, really liked it. And really, she's not all that bad."
Harry sighed. "Quite frankly, Ron, I wouldn't want you attempting to go out with Hermione until you've gotten your feelings for Luna sorted out. Besides, if you really want to go out with Hermione, I would suggest trying not to bicker with her so much."
Ron actually laughed. "I don't try to bicker with her. It just happens, Harry. I bicker with Hermione as much as I bicker with Ginny, and I don't try to bicker with her either!"
Suddenly, Harry went very still as realization dawned on him. "You bicker with Hermione as if she were your own sister."
Ron's lip curled. "I highly doubt that."
"No," Harry insisted. "You do! You two sound like bickering siblings."
Ron looked rather disgusted. "Impossible!"
"Ron, the second thing I have to ask you is to really think about your feelings for Hermione," Harry said desperately. "To protect both you and her, I want to know exactly how you feel about her."
"I care about her," Ron said. "I really do. I care about her welfare. I don't want anyone to hurt her. I definitely don't want some boy to hurt her," he added with a scowl, "like that Krum."
That sounded a lot like being overprotective to Harry. Like the way Ron was about Ginny when it concerned her getting a boyfriend or getting into danger.
"How does Hermione make you feel?" Harry asked instead, his voice very quiet.
"She annoys me most of the time. Always babbling on about how we should do our homework and being completely bossy. Then she's always spouting off knowledge and telling me that I'm wrong. And she doesn't really like Quidditch! But still," he said, shrugging slightly, "she's my friend. She's helped me out over the years and I'm grateful for her. I am willing to do anything to help her." He looked up at Harry, finished.
Harry weighed his friend's words carefully. "Ron, I used to fancy Cho and I must tell you, everything you just said then sounded nothing like what I felt for Cho. As it is, you sound extremely overprotective of Hermione, just like you are with Ginny. You hate Krum. Well, you didn't exactly like Michael Corner, and you weren't so keen on Dean while he and Ginny were dating, and now you don't like Justin. When did you start thinking that you might fancy Hermione?"
"Well, it sort of started a bit in second year, when she got petrified. Then it went away. But then I really felt it in fourth year."
"Why?"
Ron blinked. "I dunno. I think I realized it when I found out she was going to the Yule Ball with someone else. I couldn't believe it. I got jealous, I will admit. She should have gone with one of us."
"So there wasn't any chance that she could get hurt by being suddenly rejected," Harry said.
"Precisely!" Then Ron paled. "Merlin, that does sound like how I act towards Ginny." He looked at Harry in horror. "Have I really been confusing these sibling-like feelings for something more?"
Harry wanted to grin, but instead he frowned. "It certainly sounds like it. Ron, I don't think you really fancy Hermione."
Ron looked quite sad. "I think you may be right," he conceded. "I treat Hermione like I treat my little sister."
"But the good news is," Harry said with a small grin, "you still have a chance to experience what it's like to be with another person." Hearing Ron admit that Hermione was more like a sister to him made Harry want to cheer. The black hole in his heart had been filled and he felt happy again.
"How so?" Ron asked.
"You said you have an interest in Luna, didn't you? Ask her out," Harry suggested.
Ron's jaw dropped. "Are you mad? Ask Luna out on a date?"
"Why not? You pretty much just said that she makes you feel really special. Why not try it? Why not give it a go? I'm positive she'll say yes."
Ron looked highly uncomfortable, but then, as the idea sunk into his head, he looked more and more thoughtful. "I could do it, just once. I owe her a picnic as it is since she gave me that chocolate frog card."
"There you go," Harry said, grinning.
"Alright," Ron murmured, "I'll do it."
"Good," Harry said.
"D'you know what, Harry?"
"What?"
"It feels weird to finally understand exactly how I feel about Hermione."
Harry chuckled.
"D'you know what else?"
"What?"
"I'm hungry. Let's go down to dinner."
"Okay," Harry said as he examined his best friend. Had Ron truly fancied Hermione, Harry knew that he would have had to completely put a lid on his developing feelings for her and bury them. He would have done that so his two friends could be happy together. They would have lived happily, while Harry would have lived in misery, because Harry knew that there was no way that he could have stopped himself from feeling the need to be near her or to stop himself from relying on her strength and compassion. He was lost without her, and he knew it. He wondered why he hadn't realized the truth before. It was so simple. Harry needed Hermione, badly.