At Large

Disclaimer: As usual I don't own Harry Potter, nor did I invent it.

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As lunch ended people gradually trickled back out onto the castle grounds, leaving the Gryffindor tower empty of all but a few students. Harry, having given up on work for the time being, paced the common room back and forth feeling increasingly bored. He tried to force his head around the problem at hand - his missing things. Unfortunately every few seconds his mind would ramble out towards the Quidditch pitch. He ran a hand through his hair and cast about for some sort of inspiration.

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Hermione sat on the edge of her bed with a large book balanced on her lap. She looked and felt considerably more composed than she had done a few hours ago. The curtains were no longer closed and the silencing charm had been lifted. She finished the last page of the book and closed it gently adding it to the pile of other recently completed books. Standing rather stiffly she stretched and yawned, discovering that her neck had developed a rather annoying crick during the time she'd been sitting. Stretching again she decided to head down to the common room for a change of scenery.

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Harry continued to pace around the large floor. He'd been puzzling at his problem for the last half an hour but was still stuck in the same place. - He felt sure it was Malfoy, but then how had he managed to get in and out of the tower without knowing that password? For a few happy moments Harry contemplated locking the Slytherin student somewhere and force feeding him truth serum. When Hermione appeared at the foot of the girls' stairs, however, he jumped on the chance of a distraction.

"Hi, feeling okay?" He stopped walking and leant against the back of a chair.

"Yes thanks… Why aren't you out playing Quidditch or something?" She froze, as he stood smiling at her she could feel guilt well up like bile.

"The team think they're being kind by giving me time of to sort things out. Why? Not pleased to see me?" He grinned at his own joke.

"No, no its just I didn't expect anyone would be here…" Her eyes darted for something to look at other than him but slowly she forced herself to speak normally and to calm down.

"Sure your okay? You've gone very pale." He pushed the silver framed glasses back onto his nose, they seemed slightly too big for him. His smile turned to a look of concern.

"I'm fine Harry, if you were busy with something I can leave if you like." She half turned back towards the dormitories. But before she'd got any further he stepped forwards and caught her hand in his. She tugged for a second but his grip, although gentle was strong, something developed from Quidditch no doubt.

"Something's bothering you, I can tell. You can't stay in your room all day, I tried something similar when I thought Voldemort was possessing me - It didn't help." She turned to face him, standing on the first step of the stairs she was taller than he was but not by much.

"Thanks but you can't help me. I've just messed something up and need to deal with it on my own." He frowned at her words his expression somewhere between worry and thoughtfulness.

"I understand, but it doesn't sound much like you." He said eventually, still holding her hand - it was almost as though he'd forgotten he was. "But then I suppose even super smart, good looking prefects make mistakes sometimes." He smiled again, reassuring this time.

"I'm sorry, did you just call me good looking?" Of all the things he could have said, that would have been on the list of least expected. He released her hand as though it were suddenly covered in needles.

"… … I've got to go - good luck with the problem thing." Harry bolted from the room, trying desperately to look as though he weren't running from anything. 'Idiot' he hissed at himself. 'Why didn't you just think before speaking…' Come to think of it; why had he called her good looking? Well he supposed she was. Her standing on the step had put him in rather an appraising position… "She's your friend!" He scolded himself - needing a distraction more than ever.

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Hermione sank onto the stone step, for a long time she didn't do anything but stare blankly forwards. A part of her felt glad, ecstatic almost. Beneath the joy however, was a guilty taste. It finally seemed that he was taking an interest in her - she couldn't just throw that back in his face by submitting to Draco. 'But what else am I to do?'

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Harry hurried through the corridors; he could still feel the warm glow of embarrassment seeping from his face. He was walking so quickly that, at first, he failed to notice the series of dripping sounds that he was heading towards. He stopped suddenly and turned to face the freshly white washed suite of armour. Peeves the poltergeist floated a few feet away admiring his work, a dribbling paint pot swinging in one hand.

"Ah-ha!" He exclaimed gleefully. "It's potty wee Potter!" Peeves discarded his decorating equipment and zoomed towards Harry.

"Get lost, I think there's a statue near Filch's office that needs painting." Harry turned quickly but the poltergeist zoomed after him, bursting into song as he went."

"It seems Mr. Potter is easily lead,

He's moving quite quickly - his face is all red,

I think he's running - but not from all this,

He really quite likes it when Peeves takes the…"

Harry disappeared around a corner, cutting off the out of key singing. He carried on walking while deciding on a destination for two reasons. The first was that Peeves might just catch up and he didn't like the idea of ending up like the armour. The second was that as soon as he stopped keeping busy he knew he'd have to think about what had happened with Hermione.

"Ooof!" He doubled over suddenly as something collided with his stomach. As soon as he felt able to move he started to reach for his wand, but then remembered that it was absent. He stood cautiously but received another sharp jab between his ribs, this time sending him sprawling onto his back. He searched for his unseen attacker and found no one. He tried to stand again, this time stepping to the side at the last second. Something made of material shot past face, he couldn't see it but he recognised the gauzy feel of the invisibility cloak. Another punch, this time to his face removed the borrowed glasses, which he managed to catch them as they brushed past his fingers. Harry struck out directly in front of him but by that time whoever it was had changed position. Awkwardly he pushed the spectacles onto his head and ran forwards full tilt…

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Hermione picked her way through the library's assortment of books and scrolls as quickly as she could. Normally she enjoyed the hushed atmosphere and the gentle faded colours but today they were wasted on her as she hurried. The book she was lifted down from the shelf was one of the largest she had ever seen. She was barely able to lift the black covered tome, let alone place it on one of the spindly reading tables. Instead she lowered it to the floor and began to flick through the thousands of tallow coloured pages. The 'Hogwarts Book of Rules for Students, Teachers, Visitors and Other Staff" was not, it seemed, designed for easy reading.

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Harry continued to speed through the near-empty school. The footsteps of his invisible attacker rang in his ears. Gasping for breath he had not yet regained from being punched he skidded inside a vacant classroom. Clinging to the door he listened hard to the approaching unknown, their breathing was heavy with fatigue but they were still travelling at a fair speed. They turned and began heading towards him, picking up the pace as they did. Harry waited and then, at the last second, slammed the door fast. He was rewarded by the sound of whoever it was meeting with the ancient wood and staggering backwards then falling flat.

"It's a very bad idea," Harry said in a satisfied way, "to try and use my own things against me." He walked forwards reaching out with his foot to locate the attacker. "You might as well give up, there's no way you can take me after…" A wand blast from somewhere to his left cut him off in mid sentence.

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"Can you tell me your name?" He opened his eyes blearily but they were aching from the light that suddenly filled his vision. His head gave an almighty thud and he felt himself lapse back into unconsciousness. "Come on," said the voice, "you need to tell me your name." His eyes opened again, this time they caught a glimpse of someone leaning over him before once again clamping shut. He forced himself to speak.

"Harry… name's Harry." His mouth was dry, rough and coppery with the taste of blood.

"Okay, good, now can you remember anything about what happened?" He risked opening his eyes again but with the blinding light that followed came a wave of irrepressible nausea.

"Invisible… couldn't see, there was a flash and then I fell or something." The more he spoke the easier speaking became. "Someone hit me with a hex and then everything goes blurry… I remember a bright flash and the floor moving towards me."

"Not exactly Harry. We think you ran into a door on the second floor. There's certainly the dent there to prove it. But don't worry, you'll be fine - just drink this." Madam Pomfrey offered him a beaker of something hot and deep blue. He sipped at it and soon fell back into a deep sleep on the hospital bed.

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Hermione skimmed over the third page of the books forth index. The school seemed to have policies on almost everything but they were hardly ever implemented. A shadow fell across the page she was reading causing her to look up.

"Hello Granger - It's nice to see you've finally learnt to sit where you belong." Malfoy flicked the book shut with his foot and dropped something over it. "I think your looking for this. I had a friend of my fathers look into it for me." She picked up the neatly rolled parchment and got to her feet whilst pulling it open angrily. Without taking her eyes off Malfoy she scanned the paper. One sentence practically screamed at her from halfway down the text. 'In short, anyone found in serious breach of the schools rules on theft will be immediately expelled and escorted from the grounds.'

"Why should I believe you? For all I know you could have written that yourself." She wasn't going to let him push her over this time.

"You may be inferior in every other way but you're not stupid." Draco's look of smug satisfaction increased as he drawled. "Can you really afford to risk it? Will you really go back to being a stinking muggle in some hovel somewhere?"

"You can't prove I did anything - you've got the Harry's things not me." She glanced towards the rest of the library not wanting to be heard by anyone else.

"That had occurred to me, but why tell them when I can show them? I happened to notice a pensieve in Snape's office the other day, I'm sure he can be persuaded to let me borrow it for the good of the school… you see Granger? You have no easy way out." By now his eyes were almost bulging from his head in malicious joy.

"I'll tell him anyway - they might expel me for stealing but lets see what they do to you for blackmail." She took a step forwards and shoved the parchment towards him, which he snatched and folded away.

"Just make sure Potter doesn't play for Gryffindor." He turned and stalked off.

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Harry sat up in his bed. All he knew was that it was sometime late into the night. For the first time since arriving he took a good look at his surroundings. Everything was either sterile white or sterile blue and there was very little of everything to go around. A thin window channelled a small amount of moonlight into the room by which he could make out the bed he was sitting in and a small table. Resting on the table were Dumbledore's glasses and a small note. Using the strange green lenses Harry was able to read the neat writing on the paper perfectly.

'Dear Harry, I thought I'd return these to you, as I still believe you have a use for them. Please be careful, I can do nothing about your lost things without first getting a permit from the ministry allowing me to search students property, it seems Umbridge's work still needs undoing.'

Harry placed the note and the spectacles to one side. Why was Dumbledore always away when he needed him the most? He yawned suddenly; the potion seemed to be working again. He lay back and fell asleep almost as soon as his head brushed the pillow.

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Sunday morning came and went without anything unusual happening. For most of the students it followed much the same pattern as Saturday had done. Harry was sitting in the small side ward of the hospital wing in which he'd spent the night.

"Can I go now?" He called to the matron as she hurried past the door on some unknown errand. She stopped briefly and studied him shrewdly.

"You can go at twelve, I'm still not sure your over the concussion and I want to make sure you get a decent meal - none of that Honeydukes rubbish." She was about to carry on her way but he persisted.

"I feel fine."

"That as maybe, but half an hour ago you were spouting nonsense at me about someone hexing you in the corridors." Her attitude towards his retelling of the garbled story from before didn't seem to have improved.

"They did." He sat up straighter and tried to look as honest as possible.

"I'm sorry Harry but you collided with a door at high speeds and knocked yourself cold. You've just got to accept that you're still a little confused." She spoke in a firm but not unkindly way and then left to continue her duties. To begin with Harry sat moodily, he tried to harbour dark thoughts about what he would do to his assailant but revenge was not an easy task while he was still half doped on sleeping potion. His mind ticked towards thoughts of Hermione and the day before.

'If I died tomorrow I'd never be able to tell her that what I said was true…' It was a grim thought but it opened his eyes. When would he work if she weren't there every night to help him or chivvy him into studying harder? What would he look at if he couldn't rest his eyes on her when they were tired from too much time on the pitch? There were a million different situations and they all seemed to rush into his head at once… He suddenly felt changed, but couldn't say why or how.

"Harry!" The girl in question sped through the door and ran to his side. "I would have come sooner but I only found out a few minutes ago. How are you doing?"

"Well apart from no one believing me that I was attacked and hexed into last week - I'm fine thanks." He swung his legs around so that he was sitting on the side of the bed and forced her a smile.

"What! Who attacked you?" Instead of sitting she walked over to the window and stared out worriedly.

"Malfoy - and don't think he isn't going to pay." Harry stretched; he could feel a bubble of restless energy growing inside him and he itched to do something about it.

"He attacked you in broad daylight?" Instead of turning towards him she gripped the narrow windowsill nervously.

"He was invisible - he had my cloak. That must have been his plan all along. Steal my things so I was defenceless and then beat on me without being seen." He played with the silver-framed glasses in his hands. "Well, at least I've had some time to rest and think about some things that have been on my mind." He stood slowly and joined her at the window. His limbs felt stiff and he was still, in yesterday's clothes. He couldn't see it but he was pretty sure his hair was messier than ever. This defiantly wasn't the venue he's have chosen but something told him it was now or never.

For a long time they gazed into the distance, both lost in though and not really taking in the view.

"I need to ask you something." He said quietly.

"I need to tell you something." She said at the same time, equally as quietly.

"You first then." He stepped back and sat down to listen.

"Harry," she still didn't look at him, she couldn't bring herself to see his face as she told him, "I'm the one who took your things…"