At Large

It was eleven by the time Harry woke in a stiff knot on the chair. The common room was empty and the fire had all but burnt itself out. Harry stretched and made his way to the dormitories where he planned to wash and change into something other than his dressing gown. He briefly wondered where everyone had gone but by the intense sun shining through a nearby window he guessed most people were outside.

>>()<<

Hermione stood between a faded tapestry and the girls toilets in what she hoped was a casual way. For the last ten minutes she'd been watching people coming in and out of the boys toilets a little way down the corridor. A scrawny first year left the room and hurried off leaving it empty. Hermione seized her chance. Taking a sweeping glance to see if anyone was coming she pulled the carefully folded invisibility cloak from her bag and threw it around her shoulders. Running, but managing to stay reasonably quite, she slipped through the boys' door and crouched by the sill of a high window. She dropped her bag to the grimy floor and retrieved Harry's glasses and wand from the pile of house elf clothes she'd wrapped them in. Looking around again she stood up and placed the stolen items on the windowsill. She allowed herself a small smile of relief, in spite of her racing heart beat she'd managed it. Soon someone would find Harry's things and hand them in to a teacher. As she turned to leave a sudden thought struck her, what if whoever found them didn't hand them in? She turned back to face the windowsill, could she really just leave Harry's things here for anyone to find? It had seemed like a good idea when she first thought of it. Dejectedly she reached forwards and pocketed the wand and glasses. Behind her someone clapped, as they did so she felt the cloak, which was already half off, slip from her shoulders.

"Very good Granger, I must say for a mudblood I'm impressed." Draco Malfoy stepped from one of the cubicles. He had a thin cigarette clasped between two fingers that was leaking acrid green and red smoke. He also has an evil smirk on his face that could only mean he'd seen everything. "Tell me, is the cloak Potter's as well?" He paused for a moment. "Of course it is, why would a filthy mudblood like you have something like that?"

"Go away Malfoy!" She pulled her wand from her back pocket, she'd started keeping it there ever since she'd seen Harry do the same.

"I don't think so Granger… I mean, you wouldn't want to get yourself into even more trouble would you?" He produced his wand from somewhere and waved it lazily. "Accio." The cloak bunched itself up and flew into his hands closely followed by the wand and spectacles.

"I'm warning you, you insidious ferret - give them back!" Brandishing her wand she stepped forwards ready to fling hexes. Draco held the cloak up triumphantly.

"If you hex me you'll hex this, don't fool yourself mudblood there's no worming out of this one. But, I suppose I could just give you them back."

"Do I look or sound as stupid as you?" She flexed her grip around her wand, there had to be a way out of this somehow. She was good at answers why wasn't there one here? She looked at Malfoy, who was still smirking madly; he gave the cloak a little twirl while he waited for some response. Blood rose to her face. It was Harry's cape, Harry's! How dare he have it!?

"Give up? It's quite simple really. You stop Potter from playing in the next quiditch match and I'll give it back… I'll even hand it in to a teacher, I could say I found it somewhere."

"I hate you."

"What are you going to do about it? Cry?" Malfoy threw the spent cigarette into a nearby toilet bowl and walked out, stowing the cloak away as he did. "Think about it." Hermione suddenly she felt giddy and something welled in her throat. Leaning over a sink she wretched violently.

"Hey! This is a boys toilet!" A high-voiced second year stared at her incredulously from the doorway.

"I'm a prefect! What's your excuse!" She shoved the still gawking student out of the way rather harder than she meant to and bolted towards to girls' room tears stinging her face.

>>()<<

Harry walked towards the quiditch pitch feeling considerably better than he had done since the morning's early start. The fresh air was clearing his head and, despite all that had happened he still had his firebolt, which at this moment was slung over his shoulder.

"Your awake then?" Ron, already in the air, called down to him.

"Yeah, I thought I'd get in at least three hours practice today." He was about to mount his broom and take to the air when Ginny came to a stop just above Ron.

"Oh, Harry. - Sorry I didn't think you'd be playing for a while. I was sort of standing in for you…" Harry stared up at them puzzled. It wasn't long before the whole team had stopped to look at him.

"Why wouldn't I be playing?" Although as he spoke he remembered what Neville had said that morning.

"Well, aren't you hot on the trail of the person that took your stuff?" Ron landed smoothly next to Harry and moved his head close. "Look, mate, I wouldn't normally ask you to skip a practice or anything but Ginny's doing really well."

"We have a match in three days," Harry whispered back.

"I know, I know but its not like you need the practice. Plus with you busy somewhere else it looks like I'm in charge of the team for a while…" Harry looked over Ron's shoulder and saw a group or Ravenclaw students sitting at the base of one of the stands. "Besides," Ron's voice became even quieter, "aren't you a bit concerned that this might have something to do with 'you know who'?"

"Fine, I'll go and look around or something." Returning his broom to his shoulder Harry turned and walked back towards the school.

"You know where I am if you need me!" Shouted Ron behind him but Harry, who didn't bother replying, half suspected he was saying it for the benefit of the audience rather than him.

After cleaning and checking his broom (although it hardly needed to be done) Harry made his way slowly towards the hall. It was slightly too early for lunch but he hadn't eaten yet. As he walked he thought about the thief, it wasn't Voldemort's work, he felt sure of that. There was something unprofessional about the whole thing. He tried to picture the thief from what he'd managed to make out. Rather a short man with a strong punch, somehow - no matter how he twisted the idea in his head the description wouldn't quite fit his memory.

"Nice glasses Potter, where'd you get them? The Weasly's yard sale?" Malfoy entered from the opposite side of the large room. Flanked by Crabe and Goyle he looked particularly ferret like, or maybe it was just the way he was grinning.

"No, it's just that someone seems to have taken my other pair." Harry felt for his wand. Damn…

"Lost anything else? Carelessness is a muggle trait Potter… but any real wizard would know that anyway. It must be terribly hard living with all the half-blood impurities your mother gave you." Malfoy took a step forwards, his hand hovering close to where he'd fixed his wand to his belt.

"As a matter of fact I have." Harry's eyes flashed dangerously. "I was wondering, Malfoy, maybe you'd like to give me a hand in looking. I could use the help of someone with experience. I hear crime runs in the family."

"Don't you talk about my father Potter." Malfoy took another step forwards, drawing his wand like a sword. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could utter a sound the house tables flew across the room and landed in their mealtime positions. Students and teachers flooded into the room destroying any chance Draco might have had to cast a spell.

Harry ate quickly deciding it probably wasn't a good idea to stay near Malfoy undefended, no matter how many people filled the room. He was so preoccupied with eating that he didn't notice Hermione's absence until he found her sitting in the common room about ten minutes later.

"Are you okay?" He said as soon as he noticed the red streaks down her face. Almost immediately he wished he'd said something else. Of course she's not, she's been crying. "Well… um… what I mean is do you need help with anything?"

"It's okay Harry, there's nothing you can do." She brushed he hair out of her eyes as best she could and tried to smile at him.

"Anything you want to talk about." She shook her head sharply.

"No, I'm fine now - I just messed something up that’s all." She mopped at her face with what looked like a half finished bobble hat. "You can sit here for a bit though… if you like."

"Yeah, sure." He walked over to the chair slowly with measured steps. There was something about the atmosphere of the room that made him move carefully. Everything felt like it was made of glass. He stopped before sitting down, way she was sitting; hunched up and miserable made him put his hand on her shoulder. She jumped slightly and turned to face him, her eyes wide and shimmering. "Sorry, I didn't mean to…" This is far too awkward, I must look like a right git.

"Its okay." Slowly she rested her head against his hand. Her hair was damp with what he guessed to be tears and she sighed gently. He knelt beside her and felt a shard pain in his leg like he'd knelt on a stone.

"Ouch, sorry, knitting needle." He picked up the offending needle and its partner and placed them on the arm of the chair. She shivered against his grip, he looked up to find her quaking with fresh sobs.

"No, I'm sorry Harry… you're so nice to me but I'm… I'm not worth it." Scrabbling up she ran towards the girls dormitories still crying."

"What was that about?" Ron clambered through the portrait hole holding a leftover sandwich from lunch limply in his hand.

"I'm don't know, anyway, I'm off for a while." Harry stalked up the stairs towards his bed the day's frustration suddenly coming to fruition. He kicked his trunk as he passed a bubble of sudden rage bursting in his head. Why does everyone keep asking me for answers? It's no big deal, anyway; what am I supposed to do? Go around and curse every other student I meet until I find one who confesses to having my stuff. Besides I think I know who did it. He pulled a half-finished essay from the pile of papers by his bed. He was surprised that they hadn't been stepped on last night. Sitting on the edge of his bed he began to add to the work. After five minutes, in which he'd made more crossings-out than words, he was seriously considering getting extra lessons.

>>()<<

Hermione sat cross-legged on her bed. She'd put a silencing charm around the curtains and pulled them tightly shut but it didn't matter, she was beyond crying, she just sat feeling wretched and melancholy.

Why do I keep hurting him? I just wanted to do one stupid spell and now look where it's got me. She pulled a glossy magazine from under her pillow and flung it towards the nearest bin. The title, which was in big red letters, read: 'Compatibility Charms - See if someone is right for you.' I knew there was a reason for me hating those stupid magazines.