Author notes: Hi everyone! We bet you thought we'd abandoned this. Or maybe you don't even remember this story. There are no words to say how sorry we are for leaving this aside for so long, and even if we wasted space explaining all the reasons we had, it wouldn't matter. So we can only hope that you like this chapter, and if you forgot about this story, read it again =P!
With the release of HBP, this story is very much AU by now, but nevertheless, we'll always keep as close to canon as possible. Most of this chapter was actually written before HBP, so we won't be changing anything from what we originally planned for this story. We know you're sad, but there won't be any H/G here *grins* (We really dislike Ginny-Sue, in case you didn't notice. Psy_Girl has been trying to delude herself that HBP never happened *sigh*).
Since we're back on track, we'll probably have the next chapter out a lot sooner than this one. Or so we'll try, because Psy_Girl is getting married in January and everything's quite hectic for her now.
We have to thank Another for the time he took out of his busy schedule to beta read this chapter for us. And everyone should thank perfectzero (Marisol) and WonkyKris (Kris) because their nagging is responsible for the release of this chapter in this century. We love you guys, and we'll make this chapter your birthday present, Marisol. You better like it, no refunds!
Chapter 08 - Same Time, Same Dilemma
"Reducio!"
A spell filled with frustration and hate hit a beautiful vase and sent it flying all over the room in hundreds of tiny, colorful, shattered pieces.
"How dare he! How. Dare. He! That ... that insignificant fool!" Another flick of her wand, and a piece of artwork hanging in the wall was reduced to ashes.
"Bella ... darling, please, calm down..."
"How can you ask me such a thing, when that filthy mudblood-lover has escaped from our Master's grasp once more!" Bellatrix Lestrange exclaimed, outraged, and pointed her wand at a marble statue in the middle of the room.
This time, before the blast had a chance to destroy it, a hand whisked the object away from the path of the destructive spell, and instead only a window was broken.
"This is more than a thousand years old, my dear sister. Such a rare item should be handled more carefully," said Lucius Malfoy, carefully putting the statue back in place and staring at Bellatrix with cold eyes, "would it be too much to ask for you not to destroy my house? If you wish to continue your little tantrum, I suggest you direct your anger towards the Death Eaters who let our master down."
Bellatrix's scowl turned into an evil smirk, her head spinning with wonderful and fulfilling ways she could teach a lesson or two to those useless idiots. But, at the same time, it reminded her of the reason of her distress, and she let another furious exclamation come out off her mouth.
"Ah, come now, my love," Rodolphus Lestrange said, taking his wife's arm and pulling her next to him. He knew very well that Bellatrix was impossible when she was angry, so it was better to comfort her now before she decided to include him in her path of rage.
"If Master had let me stay instead of that rat, the mudblood and the others would be dead by now. Master would be happy. And you know that I love it when our master is pleased."
"We all do, darling," said her husband, stroking her hair in a soothing way. Lucius Malfoy rolled his eyes. Bellatrix was the only person that Rodolphus ever treated kindly; it was painful to watch him when he looked at her.
"Why?" Bellatrix kept whining. "Why did he choose the rat and not me? I could have dealt with Potter and his friends! I would've crushed them!"
An eerie silence filled the room, located in the secluded part of the Malfoy Manor. Several Death Eaters were gathered, the deadliest and most vicious of all Voldemort's followers. They were waiting for the Dark Lord to contact them and inform about their next move.
"Something disturbs me," said Dolohov, moving forward so the rest would see him clearly. "How did Potter and Dumbledore found out where our Lord would be? The clues were supposed to lead them somewhere else. Isn't that what you said, Narcissa?"
The blonde woman turned her cold eyes to him, but remained silent behind her husband.
"Isn't it obvious?" Bellatrix spoke again, leaving Rodolphus' side and walking slowly towards the group of Death Eaters. "There is a traitor among us. Now we know it for sure."
She turned to Severus Snape, who was standing in the farthest corner of the room. She moved until she was standing in front of him, her wand pointed threateningly at his neck, a cruel smirk covering her features.
"I've never really believed your story, my dear Severus. I've always suspected that you're Dumbledore's puppet pretending to be one of us, and not the other way around. I'd be delighted to take care of you, you know."
Snape didn't even flinch. He lowered her wand effortlessly and returned her smirk calmly. "I know how much pleasure my death-or any other death, for that matter-would bring you, Lestrange. I hate to disappoint you, but it wasn't me the one who told Potter our whereabouts."
"No one else aside from you has contact with Potter..." Bellatrix insisted.
"Are you sure about that?" Snape asked, his lip curling slightly. "I, like most of the people in this room, didn't even know where the Master would summon us until the time came. Maybe you should direct your questions to the ones who were more … informed," he added, looking straight at Narcissa Malfoy.
Bellatrix followed his gaze and her eyes met with her sister's, who was suddenly frowning.
"You're not suggesting..." Narcissa said, in a high pitched voice. Everyone turned to look at her, somewhat curious. It wasn't very common to hear her speak up. "How could I let the information leak?!? I've never even talked to Pot-"
"Shut up, Narcissa," Lucius ordered. "I won't tolerate that kind of insinuation from you, Snape."
"I haven't made any insinuations," Snape said. "I'm merely suggesting that since Bellatrix is so fixed on blaming one of her own, she should start with the ones who knew the place we would be at beforehand and actually had a way to let Potter and Dumbledore know ... I'm not the only one at Hogwarts."
"That son of yours," Bellatrix said, leaving Snape's side and strutting towards her brother-in-law. "He's proven to be quite the failure, hasn't he? He's lost to Potter and his mudblood friend more than once..."
"That's none of your business!" Lucius yelled, his face tense with anger. "My son has nothing to do with this."
"Are you sure about that? Since he's disappointed you in so many ways already, he might as well be one of Dumbledore's allies."
In less than a second, he had taken his wand out and was pointing at Bellatrix's face. The woman smirked and lifted her own wand, and for a moment, the rest of the Death Eaters thought they'd be entertained with a duel while they waited for Lord Voldemort's arrival.
"Stop it, Bella!" Narcissa exclaimed, standing between her husband and her sister. "Draco didn't know anything. I swear on my life. He couldn't have told Dumbledore. Stop looking for a traitor among us! We're all loyal to the Dark Lord!"
Bellatrix lowered her wand, not very convinced. She went back to her corner, determined to bring up the subject again when the time came.
Across the room, no one noticed Severus Snape smiling to himself in a pleased fashion, his eyes fixed on Narcissa Malfoy and a strange idea forming in his head...
The sound of the door opening got everyone out of their ponderings. A short, shabby looking figure stepped in the room. A loud hiss of disaproval was heard at the back of the room.
"My, oh my, if it isn't the nasty rat," sneered Bellatrix, not bothering to hide her look of disgust. "Craving for some leftovers?"
Wormtail ignored her remark as he entered the room. He tried his best not to show any fear. He knew what they all thought.... They hated him. If they could, they would kill him on the spot. It bothered them, especially the Lestrange woman, that he had such a close position to the Dark Lord. They all thought he was useless, and a coward. He was used to it. For as long as he remembered he'd been looked down, even by the people who were supposed to be his friends. So he didn't mind what the Death Eaters thought of him, as long as he had his protection. If he ever lost that... He didn't even want to think about it.
"The Dark Lord requests your presence, Bellatrix," Wormtail said, not looking at anyone in the face. The room was full of his most powerful supporters, and he knew better than to give anyone a reason to get more crossed with him.
"What for?" asked Lucius Malfoy. His tone clearly showed he was irritated, and it seemed that he was expressing everyone's question.
Wormtail clicked his tongue. "He asked for Bella, Lucius, I don't know anything else and you should know better than to pry in His business."
Bellatrix dedicated a smug smile to her brother in law, and followed Wormtail out of the room. She wondered what plans her lord would have for her, but whatever they were, she hoped they involved a raven-haired boy and a filthy mudblood from whom she desperately craved revenge.
* * *
Harry leaned his forehead against the cold shelf of the Restricted Section. He was really tired. He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to continue like this.
Ever since that talk with Dumbledore, he'd been sneaking out at night to go to the library and research in the Restricted Section. He would wait until everyone was asleep, pull out his Invisibility Cloak and start looking among the hundreds of books that were cooped up in there until the crack of dawn, when he'd go back to the dorm, think about how useless the previous hours had been, and then try to sleep for at least an hour before he had to get up for the first class.
Harry raised his wand to look at the title of another book and sighed in disappointment when he read it. He wasn't interested in the side effects of mixing the Draught of Peace with Polyjuice Potion during the full moon. He decided to let it go for that night, as he could barely keep his eyes open anymore and could do well with two extra hours of sleep. Maybe he'd look less tired the following day and Hermione would stop looking at him as if she feared he'd collapse any second (not that he was too far from it).
He put on the cloak and started walking back to the Gryffindor Tower. Maybe the reason why he hadn't had luck so far was because he wasn't sure what he was looking for exactly. He knew if he would just ask Dumbledore, he'd probably tell him where to look.... Heck, he'd probably even give him a signed permission to wander freely in the Restricted Section, but Harry was determined not to show the Headmaster that what they'd talked about in his office the morning after the rescue had disturbed him. It was better to keep the denial act.
"So let's talk about the real reason of your presence here this morning. You seem eager to talk to me.... That's something I haven't seen in a while."
"Well, I wanted to talk about what happened last night, in the cemetery..."
Dumbledore looked right into his eyes, and made a slight nod to encourage him to continue.
"Um, I..." Harry cleared his throat. "Fred was telling everyone about how we battled the Death Eaters before the Order arrived. And he said I ... he said I..." thinking about what Fred had said again, Harry had trouble to repeat it to Dumbledore. He didn't even understand himself, how was he supposed to explain it?
Fawkes cried softly and approached Harry, nudging his arm with its feathered head. Harry patted the phoenix gently, recognizing its supporting gesture. "Fred said I cast some spell... That it managed to keep the Death Eaters away from us long enough until you came. He said he had felt... that his magic was being drained." Harry looked up to Dumbledore to see his reaction, but the old man was staring at him calmly. Harry took a deep breath and continued. "But I don't remember casting anything like tha t... I don't think I-no, I'm sure I can't do something like that. Not consciously, at least. So he must be wrong, right? He was probably confused..."
Dumbledore opened a small box he had on his desk and pulled out a sherbet lemon. He offered one to Harry, which he refused. "Do you really think Mr. Weasley mistook what he saw? Or should I say, what he felt...?" the Headmaster asked, sucking the candy.
"Well, I don't think he.... Maybe it was like that time I blew up Aunt Marge. Hagrid once told me that sometimes magic can get out of control a little when we are really upset..."
"Do you remember how you felt that time you blew your aunt?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry nodded. How could he forget how furious he was at that time? He could feel the anger building up inside him just by recalling that woman's words. "And, if I asked you to, would you be able to tell me about other times when something you couldn't control happened?"
Harry nodded again. He remembered the snake at the zoo, the time when Aunt Petunia had cut his hair and ... Dumbledore interrupted his silent recount.
"Harry, the night your friends were kidnapped, I sent Remus and Alastor to your Uncle's house so you'd know from us, and not from other sources, what was going on. Then, I thought it might be better if I went there as well, because, like I told you that time, I had the suspicion that Voldemort's action was aimed at something that neither Remus nor Alastor know."
"Finding out about the prophecy," Harry muttered, pronouncing the last word as if it was some king of venom.
"That's right. Do you know what I saw when I got there? Or, to put it better, what I felt?
Harry shook his head. Everything had been so confusing that he couldn't recall the events very well.... He hadn't even noticed when Dumbledore had showed up in the second floor. He remembered Lupin telling him that Hermione was gone, and the next thing ... Dumbledore telling him to calm down, that she wasn't dead.
Dumbledore noticed Harry's frown. "Those few seconds you can't remember about that night, that fragment that is blurry inside your head... Isn't it a little like what happened last night, when you were surrounded by those Death Eaters?"
Harry's eyes widened. "I..."
"Magic varies from wizard to wizard; some are more powerful than others, as I'm sure you are already aware. And although it's true that training is essential to develop skills, it doesn't have a real effect on the amount of magic power you have. It's just a way to achieve that potential."
Harry blinked, not very sure why Dumbledore was telling him all that at the moment. Dumbledore must have read the "what does that have to do with anything?" expression in his face, and smiled gently.
"I think it's time you accept that you're not an ordinary wizard, Harry."
"Of course not, I'm being targeted by a bloody maniac just because of a stupid Prophecy," Harry said angrily, not able to hold back what he was really thinking. He was tired of everyone thinking he was special just because he had been lucky enough to escape from Voldemort and could conjure a Patronus.
Dumbledore, far from getting angry with his outburst, chuckled. Harry resisted the urge to ask him what was so funny about it.
"The answer you're looking for, Harry ... I can't give it to you. You're the only one who can get to it. And the first step is believing in yourself, and in what you can do."
Harry looked at Dumbledore, frustrated. "That's it? You won't tell me anything else?"
Dumbledore removed his glasses and started cleaning them with his robes, breaking eye contact with Harry. "I have the impression you had your own theory about this, Harry," he said. "Come on, say what's on your mind."
Harry took a while before speaking up. "I thought that ... maybe ... this had to do with ... `The power the Dark Lord knows not.'"
Dumbledore put his glasses on again and looked at Harry with interest. Harry felt a little flustered under his gaze.
"I realize it's ridiculous ... I don't have such power. I don't have it."
"You've already said that," Dumbledore remarked, with a slight smile.
Harry sighed heavily at the memory. He had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who let him past with a groan, complaining about how she'd been awoken every day for a week. Harry ignored her and entered in the Common Room, pulling off his Invisibility Cloak as soon as he stepped there.
"You came back earlier tonight."
Harry almost had a heart attack at the sound of the voice and turned to the fireplace with a startled expression. Ron was sitting on the couch, staring up at him. He was wearing his pajamas, but Harry had the impression it had been a while since he'd gotten up from bed.
"What are you doing up so late?" Harry asked, not able to hide the surprise in his voice.
"And I thought that was my line," Ron said. "I was hoping that tonight you'd finally tell me what you've been doing all these nights you've sneaked out."
Harry stared at him, somewhat embarrassed. "You knew?"
"Yeah, apparently Malfoy's dungeon turned me into a light sleeper," Ron answered, shrugging. "I hear when you go out, and I hear when you come back. You're three hours earlier tonight ... not that I'm complaining, I don't know if I would've been able to wait until six in the morning for you to come back."
For a moment, both friends looked at each other without saying anything, as if they were trying to read the other's mind. Of course, the only one skilled enough to guess what the others were thinking was Hermione, so they gave up fairly quickly.
Ron spoke first. "So, are you going to tell me, or do I have to start with the interrogation?"
"It's nothing, really," Harry said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I just needed some air, to clear my head."
Ron snorted loudly. "Apparently your head needs lots of clearing if you have to do this every night. Come on, Harry, I'm not that thick, you know?"
Realizing he wouldn't be able to get away with this unless he lied to his best friend, Harry sighed in resignation and sat on a chair next to Ron.
"I've been at the library."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "I think the only person who could use that excuse convincingly is Hermione."
"I'm serious," Harry said. He had to admit that it did sound suspicious.
"Okay," Ron said, clearly not convinced yet. "May I ask why do you need to sneak out in the middle of the night to go to the Library? Unless you're meeting a girl there..." Harry looked at Ron with utter shock and the read head laughed. "I was only joking, Harry! Well, are you?"
"Of course not!" Harry said, slightly flustered at the idea.
Ron laughed a bit longer and eventually became serious again. He looked at Harry straight in the eye. "Then why are you going to the library every night?"
"I'm... doing some research."
"But why at night? You could do it during the day."
"I'm looking in the Restricted Section. I don't want Pince breathing on my shoulder all the time," Harry answered. It was only a half-truth, of course. He didn't want Ron and Hermione knowing what he was looking for, either.
"What are you looking for in the Restricted Section?" Ron pressed. "It must be something important. I could help, you know. I'm sure Hermione would too-"
"No!" Harry said, more forcefully than he would've liked. Ron looked at him, puzzled. "I mean ... I don't need help. I don't want to bother you..."
Ron sighed heavily and leaned back on his couch. "You think we don't know you're hiding something from us?"
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, trying to sound innocent, but he was failing miserably at hiding his uneasiness.
"It's so evident, I could tell even before Hermione said something to me."
Harry, who was already used to Ron and Hermione talking about him behind his back, couldn't help the little pang of annoyance in his stomach when he pictured them this time. He stared at Ron, wondering what he should say to make him drop the subject.
"If you don't want to tell me what it is, I understand," Ron said, after a long silence.
"It's not that," Harry said defensively.
"But there is something, right?"
Harry lowered his head, cursing silently. Why did Ron have to get sharp and perceptive the one time he needed him to remain oblivious? Knowing he wouldn't get anywhere lying to him, he nodded weakly.
"I will tell you. Just ... I can't right now."
Ron nodded in understanding. "I know you must have your reasons to keep it to yourself." He made a pause. "Harry, I just ... I wanted to say I'm sorry."
Harry looked up in surprise. "Why?"
"For not being the friend you needed me to be."
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Ron shut him up with a gesture of his hand.
"Ever since what happened at the end of our fourth year, I've been avoiding any topic that might affect you. I haven't voiced any opinions because I feared it would make you angry. I've just followed you along, not even attempting to be any kind of guide, so you wouldn't get upset with me like you did with Hermione. She's a lot braver than I am. I've just stayed out of it and haven't helped you at all."
Harry stared at Ron with his mouth open, in disbelief. "Ron, what the hell are you babbling about? You've been a great friend. You've helped me much more than you think. I've always felt your support and you've stayed with me without questions or hesitation." Harry swallowed, and cleared his throat, realizing he and Ron had never talked like this before. "If it wasn't for you, I..."
"I'm glad you think so," Ron said, his face reddening like it always did when someone gave him a compliment. "But I've realized that the best way to be your friend isn't pretending that things don't happen. So, from now on, I'll stop agreeing in everything with you," he added, grinning to break the sappy mood a little.
Harry grinned back. "What did those Death Eaters do to you?" he teased.
"Death Eaters? No mate, you've got it all wrong! The real torture was being locked up with Ginny, Hermione and Loony.... That's more than enough to drive a good bloke nuts. Pure torture, I'm telling you," Ron said, shaking his head dramatically. "Women ... dunno how Neville and I got through it."
Harry laughed as they headed back for a much needed rest.
* * *
Hermione shut the book with such force that the table trembled. Sighing, she turned to look out of the window. Time was passing by too quickly, she thought, looking at the cloudy sky, and imagining the grounds were covered in a cold fog. She felt a pair of eyes on her, and turned to the girl in front with a frustrated expression.
"It's been almost a month already, Luna!" Hermione said. "Never before I was in a situation where I had such an important question and absolutely no answers!" She closed her eyes, tired, and rested her head on top of the now closed book.
"Patience is a virtue, they say," answered Luna, in a voice that could match Hermione's exhausted expression, "and I'm quite sure by now that we both lack that virtue."
"I don't know what to do," Hermione whined, banging her head against the table.
Luna left the book she was reading aside and grabbed another. "Well, I think you do know what you have to do. You should ask Harry..." Hermione lifted her head and glared at Luna. "Of course, you don't want to do that, so we'll have to keep looking here," the blonde finished.
Hermione couldn't help but smile at Luna, and she smiled back. She wasn't sure how it happened, but she could tell they had become good friends. She knew it was the first time Luna had someone to call friend, even if she got along very well with Ginny. Luna seemed to understand what Hermione was thinking, and they sealed their silent agreement with another smile, before turning back to the books. Or so they tried.
"Hermioneeeeeee! Heeeeeelp me, pleaseeeee!"
Both girls turned to look at Ron, who had stumbled on the library carrying a ton of parchments and ignoring Madame Pince's angry remarks about keeping quiet. He dropped the parchments on the table, in front of Hermione, and sat next to Luna. "That greasy git gave me extra homework! I don't know who I hate more now... Snape, for being his ugly self, or Dumbledore, for forcing me to take NEWTs Potions even if I didn't get the O that was required." He stared at the parchment and books in front of him, and his face contorted in pain. "Please, take me back to that cell. Now. Anything is better than this." He stared at Hermione with his trademark pleading look.
"Oh no, Ron Weasley, you know that look doesn't work on me!" Hermione said as sternly as she could, even if she knew that in the end she would give in.
"Come on, `Mioneee, can't you help your very best friend at his time of need?"
"Ron, you should be able to do this by yourself now, or how do you plan to pass the NEWTs? Don't make that face! You know that-oh, fine-if you're going to be a prat about it, then forget it! And don't call me Mione!" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "And you're not my only very best friend."
"Ouch, you've hurt my feelings. But ... what is it that you're working on so hard, that locks you here everyday and can't allow you to help me?" He leaned forward and tried to grab the book that Hermione had just closed, trying to read its title.
"I can help you, if you want, Ronald," Luna chirped in. Ron turned to her as if he had just realized she was sitting next to him.
"Oh, hi Luna..." He looked at her uncertainly. "This is really advanced, and I-I ... I don't think..."
Hermione bit her lip, trying not to smile. She had noticed Ron getting weirder when Luna was around, and she found it incredibly funny. She wished she could comment it with Harry so they would tease him together, but his head had been anywhere lately, and he probably hadn't even noticed.
"I might not be in the same grade you are, but I'd say I'm better at Potions than you," Luna said, grabbing the parchments that Ron had brought with him and studying them carefully. "Besides, my father has always taught me how to brew special potions and the importance of roots and plants, just in case I find myself in mortal danger while looking for a flercarnish.... Quite an interesting animal, that one."
"Yeah ... okay," Ron said quickly, not wanting her to start a description of the flowerfish or whatever it was. He wasn't very confident that Luna could help him, and shot a desperate glance at Hermione.
All Hermione did was grin wickedly. "Well then, I better leave you two to study," she said, standing up and putting some books into her schoolbag. "Are you sure about this, Luna? He can be quite thick and stubborn.... And he'll surely try to trick you into giving him the answers he needs."
"That's not true! Luna, don't pay attention to what Hermione says!" Ron said somewhat panicked, and looking at Hermione with a don't-ruin-me expression.
Hermione was about to come up with another retort, when Luna interrupted her, looking past her shoulder.
"Hello Harry."
Hermione looked behind her and saw Harry coming towards them with a book in his hands. She didn't notice her grip on the books she still had in her arms got tighter.
"Hi," Harry said, looking at Luna, and then at Ron and Hermione. Hermione noticed he looked really tired, which seemed to be his natural state lately.
"What brings you to the library at this time of the day, mate?" Ron asked. Something in his tone made Hermione think that he was trying to imply something else with that sentence.
"I'm just returning a book I borrowed for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry replied, raising his hand to show his proof. "Well, see ya..."
"Where are you going?" asked Hermione.
Harry looked at her briefly. "I still have to finish my Transfiguration homework..."
"Do you need any help with that?" Hermione offered, good-naturedly. "I was heading to the Common Room myself, and I'm already done with my assignments..."
"How come he gets all the help?" mumbled Ron.
"No thanks," Harry said quickly, "I mean, I need to do it on my own for once, or I'll never learn."
There was a brief moment of silence. Harry avoided Hermione's eyes, Hermione refused to look at Ron's direction, Ron stared at Harry shaking his head and Luna let out a tiny sigh that went unnoticed. Harry waved goodbye and disappeared again, and Hermione finally turned to Luna, looking resigned and not exactly surprised that Harry had refused her company.
"Tomorrow, same time?" she asked.
"Same time, same place, same dilemma," came Luna's answer.
And then Ron noticed something-a flash of pain in Hermione's eyes when she turned to walk away. He looked at Luna and she just stared back, understanding what he saw and nodding her head slightly.
"By George!" exclaimed Ron suddenly.
"Your brother?" asked Luna, confused.
"What? Oh no, not that George ... the other George ... oh, forget the George! Do you realize what we just did?"
"Talk about your brother George and not your brother Fred?"
Ron looked at her strangely. "What does Fred has to do with anything? Oh, never mind that! We did a Harry-Hermione thingy!"
"A what?" Luna looked more lost than usual.
"A Harry and Hermione thing!" Ron repeated.
"What do Harry and Hermione have to do with George and Fred?"
"Not George and Fred! Harry and Hermione!" Ron yelled, exasperated, earning himself a glare from Madame Pince.
"Ronald, sometimes you are just too loony for me to keep up," Luna said seriously, shaking her head.
Ron just stared and then couldn't help but laugh at her remark, finally starting back on his homework.
* * *
Harry was sitting by the lake, slowly turning the pages of Hermione's journal. Even now that it had been a while since they'd returned, he still hadn't given it back.... Hermione hadn't mentioned anything about a missing book, which was odd coming from her, but Harry didn't want to return it yet.
He'd already read through it twice. At first, he'd felt a little guilty, reading something that belonged to Hermione without her authorization, but then he realized that not much of what was written there was unknown to him... But he'd relived everything that had happened since his start at Hogwarts through Hermione's eyes, and that was an experience hard to describe. He was suddenly aware of many things he hadn't noticed before. Or maybe he had noticed them, but never really thought about them.
He was suddenly very conscious that, if it weren't for Hermione, he would be dead for sure. She had saved him so many times (starting in his first Quidditch game) that he was thinking that to the name "The Boy who Lived" someone should add "Thanks to his friend Hermione Granger."
And for the first time, he was seeing how hard it'd been for her all these years. By reading the way she described all their close encounters with danger, he could tell that they had been terrible for her. He had unwillingly pulled her-and Ron, who probably felt the same way than Hermione-into the mess that was his life, and she didn't deserve that. He felt miserable, selfish, and extremely self-centered.
"Hello, Harry."
The voice startled Harry and he quickly tried to hide the journal inside his robes. "This is a very nice spot," Lupin said, looking around.
"Hello, Professor. Yeah, Hermione discovered it a few years ago, and it kinda felt like a fine place to be right now."
"I see. I liked it, too when I was a student. You get a great view and it still gives you privacy, a fact that Sirius enjoyed greatly. His `thinking spot,' I think was the name your father gave to it." Without waiting for an invitation, Lupin sat next to Harry, leaning against the tree.
Harry noticed the small smile on his face. "I bet some of the best pranks were planned here".
"True. This tree has a lot of History. I'm glad that you and your friends enjoy being here."
"I'm sure Ron would like to hear about it... He has a weird obsession with this tree... "
"So what's so interesting about that book you're carrying with you all the time? And by that very poor attempt to hide it -if you don't mind me saying so- I assume that it's not something you're willing to share with others."
Harry fidgeted a moment in his spot, not knowing what to say.
"I don't know if anyone has told you this, but books in the magical world can be dangerous"
Harry let a small laugh. "Umm ... yeah, I think Ginny mentioned something back in second year. But don't worry, Professor; this book is from a reliable source … too reliable, actually," he finished with a sad tone.
"It's not from Snape, is it?"
Harry gave him a scandalized look, and Lupin chuckled. "Just kidding. So it's Hermione's."
"What? How do you … I mean … what?"
"Sometimes, you're not too hard to read Harry. When you're moody it has something to do with Snape or Malfoy, and when you get all pensive, it usually has to do about the people you care about. Like Hermione."
"Well, is just that … let's just say that she gives me stuff to think about."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Harry hesitated for a moment.
"Have you ever … er … how do you … it's hard to explain."
"Well, let's start with the easy part. What's the book about?"
"It's a journal-"
Lupin straightened and looked down at Harry with a serious face.
"Her journal?" He shook his head. "I'm kinda disappointed with you, Harry. Reading a private journal is not so far from betrayal.... Your father did a lot of crazy stunts in our time but he never..."
"No, no you got it all wrong! It's not hers, it's mine.… Well she wrote it, but ... it's not about her."
"Okay, I'm officially confused."
Harry sighed. "Here." He passed Lupin the journal. The older man hesitated at first when he saw Hermione's initials on the cover, but Harry gave him a reassuring nod.
Lupin passed on the pages carefully, stopping to read a paragraph every now and then. Harry waited for him to finish, while he pulled out handfuls of grass, his mind drifting back to all the thoughts that had been filling his mind.
Finally, Lupin raised his head and stared at Harry in awe.
"I never knew … Dumbledore told me some about your adventures, but.... You, Ron and Hermione have done things … I never … It's amazing! But how?"
"Hermione is the one who's amazing, actually. I always get myself in trouble and they get involved; Ron always opens his mouth and we get in deeper trouble.... And then there's Hermione, who gets us out … she's always been there to help out."
As he heard Harry talk, Lupin could see something ... something in his eyes, something he'd seen before, a long time ago.
"She's always been there; even when she was petrified, she solved the mystery. Even when she was scared, she fought; even when she knew I was doing something stupid and reckless, she stood by my side... Even when I was lost because she wasn't here to give me the answer, her diary came to me and showed me the way."
"What do you mean?"
"This is how I found where that cemetery was, she had pointed it out when I got dragged there during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She even drew a map of the surrounding area!" He gave a small snort. "So you see … the Boy Who Lived is alive thanks to Hermione Granger."
"You've also helped her, and the rest of your friends, a lot. You've also saved her life, more than once, apparently."
"Maybe, but if I hadn't dragged her along, she would've never been in danger in the first place, would she?"
"I wouldn't say that you've dragged her. I'm pretty sure she's followed you on her own accord."
"Of course. That's who she is. That's who both of them are, Ron and her. They would follow me anywhere, even if it means to put themselves on the line. And I understand why Ron does it. Not only because he's a loyal friend, but also because he needs to prove himself. No matter how he protests, in the end he wants to. But Hermione ... she hates it. She's terrified. But she just keeps on doing it, because of me. How do you think that makes me feel?"
Lupin regarded Harry with a thoughtful look. He knew that Harry carried a lot on his shoulders, and that he seemed to force himself to carry even more. He was glad that he was opening his heart to him a little....
"I think you should talk to her, Harry."
Harry looked at him, and then shook his head. "What for? I know what she'll say. It won't change than I'm making her feel like this."
Lupin stood up from his spot and crouched in front of Harry. "It's not fair that you jump into conclusions and don't let her say something about it. I'm sure that Hermione has strong reasons to help you the way she does-reasons beyond loyalty." Again, Harry shook his head. "Listen to me," Lupin insisted, "I, like you, have known the value of a strong friendship. If it hadn't been for my friends, I probably wouldn't be here right now. And I ended up losing them all. You don't know how terrible it is ... to lose your friends, Harry. You can't let that happen to you. Don't push them away."
Harry swallowed hard as he stared into Lupin's eyes. "I'm s-sorry, I forgot..." They stayed in silence. The professor stood up straight and gave the boy a gentle smile.
"I know that you'll do the right thing. And whatever you need ... I'm here for you, okay?"
He left, leaving Harry alone, with a strange feeling in the pitch of his stomach. Almost unconsciously, he looked up to the window in the Gryffindor Tower. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him, but he was sure there was Hermione's silhouette, staring down at him.
* * *
Later, when Ron went up to the Gryffindor common room, he found Hermione sitting by the window, her gaze lost somewhere in the grounds. For a second, Ron thought about leaving her alone with her cavilations, but the sad look in his friend's face made him reconsider it. He knew that comforting people wasn't among his best abilities, but at least he had to try.
He approached carefully and sat in the chair in front of her. Hermione acknowledged him with a small smile.
"Did you finish you homework?"
"Yeah, who would've thought that Loony actually had a thing for something so grounded like Potions," he answered, shrugging. "What were you doing?"
"Oh, just thinking..." Hermione said, her eyes moving to the window again.
Ron looked outside. The day was dull and cloudy, the trees moving along with the cold breeze of Fall. He then noticed a very familiar figure sitting by the lake.... He turned to look at Hermione again, and saw that, without a doubt, she was looking at said figure too.
"I talked to him last night, you know?" Ron said, and Hermione looked at him somewhat surprised.
"You talked to Harry? About what we discussed?"
Ron nodded. "I told him we knew he was hiding something from us. At first, he played innocent, but in the end, he admitted there was something.... He said he'd tell us, but he couldn't just now."
Hermione sighed. "I wonder what could be so big that he has to hide it from us?"
"Beats me. I guess we have no choice but to wait until he decides to spill the beans..." Ron said, but the truth was he really wanted to know, too.
"But Ron, don't you get what he's doing? He's shutting himself up again! This is what he spent all summer doing, leaving us out of his worries.... I thought that, after what happened, he wouldn't do it again." Hermione let out a frustrated growl. "He's so annoying."
"I have to admit I'm actually glad to hear you refer to someone else than me as `annoying'," Ron said and Hermione shot him a look. "But maybe we shouldn't worry so much. You know Harry, he's not very keen on letting others know that something's bothering him.... He always has to be strong and invulnerable. I guess he's still having a hard time dealing with Sirius."
"You honestly think that's all?"
"Well ... no."
"I don't, either. I'm sure there's something else."
Ron stared at her in silence for a moment. "Since we are talking about hiding stuff..." he said, and didn't miss Hermione's uneasy expression, "shouldn't you tell me what you've been looking for all this time?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ron," Hermione said, in a poorly convincing way.
"I'm talking about you spending time in the library with Luna Lovegood, of all people. I'm talking about same time, same dilemma," he said, quoting Luna's words. "What is it? It has to do with Harry, doesn't it?"
Hermione bit her lip and finally nodded. "I'm looking for the answer that Harry doesn't want to give me-us."
Ron's face looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"Isn't it obvious? I want to know why Voldemort kidnapped us. Aren't you curious to know about that Prophecy he's so interested in?"
"But Neville broke the Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries last June."
"Yes, but still, there has to be people out there who know about it. What about the one who told it, the one who heard it? What if-"
"What if Harry knows what the Prophecy says?" Ron finished for her. Hermione didn't say anything, but it was clear to him that he had guessed correctly. "So you think Harry is acting like this because of something that appeared in a prophecy?" Again, Hermione remained silent. "But Hermione, I doubt Harry believes in that stuff.... He's been three years with Trelawney, no one can keep their faith in Divination after that."
"I don't know, Ron. I'm just making assumptions. Luna thinks the same way I do, that's why she's been helping me. We've been looking for everything related to prophecies, but we haven't found much that can be of use."
Ron rubbed his forehead. "Shouldn't we ask Harry? If we go to him with a direct question, he won't be able to weasel his way out."
"We could try, but that could only increase the distance he's putting between himself and everyone else."
Ron admitted she had a point. They both sighed and stayed silent for a couple of minutes. There was something Ron wanted to ask her, but he couldn't gather enough courage to do it. He cleared his throat a couple of times, until Hermione looked at him, questioningly.
"Hermione, um, can I... can I ask you something?"
"You're doing it now, aren't you?"
He glared at her, but decided to continue. "The reason why you've been looking so sad and upset lately... It's because of Harry, isn't it?"
Hermione frowned. "Weren't we talking about that just now?"
"Yes, I know you're worried about what he's hiding and all that..." Ron knew that he wasn't wording his question correctly. "What I want to know is ... are you like this because he's drifting away from you?"
Hermione stared at him, her eyes a little wide. "What? Well, I told you, I'm worried that he's alone.... Of course I don't like the fact that he's leaving his friends out of his problems. I wish he would talk to us so we-"
"That's not what I'm asking," Ron interrupted, impatiently. "I already know that Harry's problems worry you all the bloody time. But I'm talking about you. What you feel when he pushes you away, like he did today."
Hermione couldn't help the faint blush that coloured her cheeks when she got what Ron was trying to say. "Well, he's my friend, of course I miss him..."
Ron let out a very small sigh, and looked briefly through the window. Harry hadn't moved from his spot. "Maybe you should try to knock some sense into him," he suggested.
"You think I haven't tried already?"
"Hermione," Ron said, looking at her seriously, "in all the time I've known you, I've never seen you giving up with something that matters to you ... so much."
He was right, Hermione realized. She couldn't let Harry do this. She had to keep trying, until he got in his thick head that he wouldn't be able to get rid of his friends so easily.
Ron watched Hermione leave the tower, mentally thanking Luna for hinting him what he should do about Hermione. He leaned back, feeling pleased with himself. Who'd have thought that he'd end up advising the very same person that always complained about his lack of sensitivity?
* * *
He could hear the footsteps coming closer. He didn't need to turn around to know it was her. He should've known she would come, and silently hoped she would suddenly change her mind and go back... But he'd already learnt that, when she had set her mind about something, there was no turning back.
Without moving from his spot, he heard her voice.
"Hey. I saw you here and thought that you might want some company. Do you mind if I sit?" she asked timidly.
"If you want to..." he replied curtly, still not looking at her.
"I've been meaning to talk to you, but..." she started, but trailed off when she saw that his expression had changed for one of alert "Wha-"
"Sssshhhh!" he whispered, standing up. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" she whispered back, not really sure what for.
But as soon as she asked that, she heard it, a soft sound that seemed to come from the grass. It was familiar, yet she couldn't say where she had heard it before. Without knowing what was going on, she felt a chill ran down her spine, and a sense of dread filled her until it got hard to breathe. By the look on his face, she figured he was experiencing something similar.
"Go back to the castle and get help," he said then, looking everywhere for the source of the increasing sound.
"No! I'm not leaving if you're staying here."
The sound was coming closer.
"Over there!" he exclaimed, taking out his wand. "Near that tree! Petrificus Totalus!"
In the back of her mind, she knew it wasn't very smart to just throw a hex at something they didn't even know what it could be, but she realized that she would have done the same thing if he hadn't done it first. It seems as if their instincts had taken over completely.
A silence followed his shout.
"Did you hit it?" she asked.
"I don't think so..." he swallowed and moved forward. "Maybe I scared it off-"
He couldn't finish his sentence. Suddenly, he felt something brush his feet and less than a second later he saw it. It was a snake, a really big one, wrapping slowly around his legs. He was paralyzed, and his body wasn't responding to what his brain was commanding,
"No!" she yelled, trying to think of a way to hex the snake without hurting him. But it was wrapping him too tightly and her hands were shaking bad.... "I can't get a clean shot!"
"Listen to me," he said, voice strained. "You have to go back and get help."
"I can't leave you!"
She tried to move closer to him, but the snake was faster. She never had the chance to figure out what happened when she felt something hit her, a sharp pain in the back of her head, and then it all went black.
* * *
When she woke up, she was alone. If it wasn't for the fact that she was lying in the humid grass, she would have thought it had been a dream. The silent and calm wind seemed to be mocking her. Trembling, she stood up, fighting with her wobbling legs to regain some control. She found her wand a few feet away, but his wasn't anywhere. Fear was consuming her, and she was having troubles to think clearly, but she knew that she couldn't lose any time, and started running towards the castle. If she had gone for help, maybe none of this would've happened. Where in Merlin's name was everyone!?!
She was out of breath and felt dizzy, and could feel she was about to black out again. She suddenly heard familiar voices. Two people were moving towards the castle's entrance, and with the last of her strength, she ran towards them. She tried to call them, but her voice sounded like a faint whisper.
One of the figures stopped and turned to look at her.
"Oh my God! What happened to you!?" she heard.
"You've got to help him! The snake... it got him... I tried... But I couldn't... help him!"
"Help who?" it was another voice, one that she knew was the one that she'd been looking for. "What snake!?"
"Harry..." she whispered urgently, grabbing someone's robes tightly. "You have to help him.... You have to save Neville, Harry!"
Then, the world started spinning again, and she closed her eyes.
"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed when the girl fell forward and was barely caught by Harry before she could hit the ground.
* * *
We don't have the right to end a chapter with a cliffie, we know, but there was no other way to do it. Extra points for the ones who catch the HBP joke.
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