Props to Another for his wonderful beta work.
Chapter 9: You Go to My Head
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`Where am I?'
Harry slowly opened his eyes, feeling heavy and somewhat woozy. The last thing he remembered was reaching his room after his conversation with Hermione. Seamus and Dean had been playing a game of Wizard Chess, Neville was reading a book on Advanced Herbology, and Ron was already snoring, tangled in his bed sheets. Harry remembered he had gone straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth and then slipped into bed, wishing the day would end as only a person with a broken heart would wish.
But when he opened his eyes, Harry found he was not in his room, but rather, he was standing inside the Great Hall, next to the entrance. Harry turned around and tried to push the heavy doors open, but they didn't budge an inch.
Turning his attention back to the room, he took a good look at the Great Hall. It was almost pitch black, but he instinctively knew that the usual house tables and chairs were nowhere to be found. The only sound that reached his ears was his own steady breathing.
He started walking toward the other end of the Hall, toward the area where the staff tables usually lay. With every step he took, the temperature inside the room dropped dramatically, until he could actually see the mist of every breath he exhaled.
He could feel the increasing cold jarring his bones, piercing his skull, burning his scar, but he couldn't stop walking. It was as if he was in autopilot, not knowing his final destination.
And then, Harry saw it. It was just hovering in the air in the middle of the staff area…a glowing crimson orb. It was petite, no bigger than a baseball, with deep rune markings all around.
It was calling him.
At first, it was almost imperceptible, like the sound the breeze made against the leaves on a spring day. Then it grew louder, like the rising wind of a stormy night. Now, Harry thought he could actually hear voices in that raging wind.
"Come."
He kept walking, with each step growing closer and closer to the orb.
"Come to us."
Just then, Harry noticed that with every step he took, the light coming from the orb grew stronger. He was standing so close now that the light washed over him, bathing him in red glow.
He stretched his arm… just two feet more and he would be able to touch it. It was a strange sensation… half of his mind was telling him to turn around and run and scream for help… and the other half was telling him that as soon as he touched the orb, everything would be all right.
No more cold…no more darkness.
"Come to us, Harry."
Just a few more inches.
The light coming from the orb was so strong it was blinding him, and even then he found he couldn't close his eyes. Instinctively, Harry knew that he wouldn't be able to stop, even if he wanted to.
It was too late.
He felt his outstretched fingers touch the glowing orb and gasped. It was a thousand times colder than ice, so cold that the moment he touched the orb he felt his arm go numb. The numbness spread like a snake from his arm, to his chest, his face, his stomach, his legs…
`This is the end.'
There was no time to scream.
The orb had consumed him.
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Thursday, October 30th
Harry woke up abruptly, sitting on the bed with a jolt. He was bathed in cold sweat, the sheets tangled on his legs.
`Breathe… just breathe…'
He closed his eyes and took a series of long, deep breaths. He felt as if his lungs were burning; his heart was beating so hard inside his chest he thought his ribs were going to be cracked at any moment. And his scar… his scar was on fire.
`It was just a nightmare…'
But was it? What if Firenze was right? What if Harry had been chosen by The-Powers-that-Be as the one who would have a revelation?
Whatever it was that the universe was trying to tell him, Harry had no idea.
What he knew was that The Powers that Be had picked one hell of a week to mess with him.
He got out of the bed and left the dormitory, grateful that his nightmare had not woken up his roommates.
Harry wanted-needed-to be alone.
Automatically, he walked toward the only window in the Gryffindor common room. The window ledge was just big enough for him to fit, and he pushed himself up and sat on the ledge, leaning back against the wall so he could look outside.
The sun was coming, the first light already peeking behind the mountains to the east. Harry hugged his knees close to his body, still feeling the coldness from the dream in his skin.
What was going on? He knew he had experienced revealing dreams before, and that the source of his dreams was his dreaded archrival, Lord Voldemort.
One thing he knew was that Voldemort was not the source of these dreams. He didn't know why he knew; it wasn't like he had any proof. But something deep inside of him knew that the Dark Lord was not the answer this time.
The one person he needed now more than ever was the one person that he would probably have to do without.
"Hermione."
Even saying her name made his heart ache. He closed his eyes, remembering the look of triumph in Roger's face when Hermione had smiled at him. Harry didn't know why he ached so much… it wasn't as if he had ever had a chance to be the one to make her smile like that.
He had lost the war before he could fight a single battle.
Harry wondered briefly what might have happened in that room behind closed doors.
`Stop that.'
He ran his fingers through his raven hair in frustration and opened his eyes. The sun was now coming from behind the mountains. Harry intuitively knew it was going to be a beautiful day… not too warm, not too cold… without one wisp of cloud to mar the perfect sky.
He was going to hate it.
Harry spent the next hour looking out the window, trying to push the memories of the nightmares out of his head. He had been quite successful. But he wasn't as successful in trying to push Hermione out of his head.
`Is this what it feels to be in love?'
"You are not in love with Hermione," Harry whispered out loud. What could he do to make his heart understand that? It was the potion… it was ONLY the potion. Hermione was his best friend… nothing more!
But what did he really know about being in love? After all, he had a mild infatuation with Cho Chang in his Fifth Year (alright, his Fourth Year also…what a waste of time that was). He didn't know if he should count his "date" with Ginny on Hogsmeade, where after an hour of being alone with him, Ginny had told him it would be better if they were to remain just friends (something which he agreed on 100%…but it still hurt a bit).
The truth was Harry knew as much about love as he knew about Arithmancy. He had a vague idea of what it was, but did he understand it?
Not at all.
Before the sun could fully appear, Harry sneaked back into his room, careful not to wake his friends. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast the day before, and his stomach was already rebelling against him. He decided that the best he could do was to get something to eat.
After a quick shower and a much-called-for date with the shaving razor, Harry dressed in his school uniform and walked toward the Great Hall. The hallways were deserted, as they usually were at 6 in the morning. Harry actually enjoyed the silence. He didn't felt like answering questions about what happened yesterday in Firenze's class, especially on an empty stomach.
When Harry reached the Great Hall, there was a sense of déjà vu that left him paralyzed for a second. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Harry remembered the burning cold spreading from his hand throughout his body, that feeling that your body was dying faster than your mind could register. He felt the pull of the orb as it swallowed him whole, and that sensation of knowing that there was nothing else beyond the void.
But when he opened his eyes, Harry found the Great Hall the same way it was every morning. All the house tables were ready to receive the students, and there was no strange hovering orb at the other end.
Feeling less hungry than he had been two minutes ago, Harry walked toward the Gryffindor table and sat down. As soon as he did, a tray with bread, butter, cereal, fruit and pumpkin juice appeared next to him.
It wasn't until Harry was buttering his third slice of bread that the other students started coming into the Great Hall. The Hufflepuffs, being the most reliable group in the school, were the first ones to fill their table. Soon joined the Ravenclaws, who talked excitedly about the coming ball.
The Slytherins started pouring in too. Most of them whispered snide comments when they passed by Harry's side, laughing amongst themselves at the latest rumors concerning the Boy-Who-Lived. He could ignore them well; they didn't know how to push his buttons. He just hoped Malfoy and his goons would have a case of the runs this morning, because he was definitely not in the mood for them.
Soon Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati came, joining Harry at the table. They were polite to him, making casual conversation, but after six years Harry knew them enough to know they were very concerned about what they had witnessed on Divination the day before. One thing he was grateful for was that his friends seemed as reluctant to talk about it as he was.
Before Harry could make an exit though, Ginny and Neville came inside. Ginny seemed so happy to see Harry that he didn't have the heart to avoid them again. Ginny gave him a quick hug when she reached his side, and she and Neville squeezed themselves next to Harry.
"How are you feeling, Harry?" Ginny asked.
Harry forced himself to smile and say, "Better. Much better."
"Neville told me what happened in Firenze's class," Ginny said quietly.
Harry threw a look to Neville that made the round-faced boy turn the color of his girlfriend's hair. Finally, "It was just a bad dream."
"Are you under a lot of stress? Aside from the normal `The most powerful dark wizard there ever was has a beef with me since I was born' stress, that is," Ginny asked.
Harry frowned. Was it just his impression or was Ginny unusually interest in the subject of his emotional state?
"I've had a lot of things on my mind… that's all," Harry said with a lacking smile. He could have sworn Ginny and Neville shared a very conspiratorial look when they heard his answer.
"I can imagine," was the only reply he got from Neville.
"So," Ginny started as she chewed hungrily on some passion fruit, "what do you think about me and Neville?"
Harry almost choked on his pumpkin juice. Was Ginny asking for his opinion in the love department? Didn't she know how bad he was when it came to relationships?
"Oh, don't give me that look. You know I care about what you think as much as I care what my brothers' think. Ron already gave me his opinion. Now I want yours," Ginny continued candidly. Neville was looking at him over Ginny's shoulder with an almost nervous expression. Harry had never realized that his opinion actually mattered to Ginny, but he had no doubt that Neville's expression confirmed exactly that.
He gave Neville an appraising look, and found himself smiling genuinely for the first time that morning. Neville was honest, kind-hearted, and courageous. He had experienced almost as much heartache in his life as Harry had. If there was anyone who really deserved to be happy, it was Neville.
"I couldn't be happier for you two," Harry said with sincerity, giving them another quiet smile. Neville exhaled loudly and put his arms around Ginny's shoulders, as Ginny mouthed a "thank you" to Harry.
Ron and Luna soon appeared by the entrance to the hall. Ron looked around, and smiled softly when he chanced upon Harry. He walked Luna to her table and quickly ran to the Gryffindor table, taking the empty chair next to Harry.
"How are you, mate?" Ron asked as soon as he sat down.
"Better than expected," Harry lied. Thankfully, Ron could not read his emotions like Hermione could.
"Did you speak with Hermione last night?" Ron whispered, leaning closer. Harry chuckled dryly; Ron was so concerned about the Hermione issue that he had not touched the food in the trays in front of him. This was definitely a new record for the redhead.
"Yes, I did," Harry answered, sipping some of the already-warm pumpkin juice.
"AND?" Ron asked, getting annoyed at Harry's nipping of relevant information.
Harry licked his lips clean before answering, "Nothing… I apologized… she forgave me… we…" Harry looked at Ron out of the corner of his eye and thought about telling him about the nightmares, but he suddenly realized it would be counterproductive. He didn't want to have another person worryingly incessantly over him.
"We talked and… she says everything's good between us,"' Harry said, taking the tray with the bacon and passing it to Ron in an attempt at not-so-subliminal hinting to stop talking and start eating. Ron took the bait, quickly pouring a generous helping of bacon into his plate.
For the next five minutes, Harry discussed Quiddith with Neville and Ginny, right up until Ron whispered with his mouth still full, "Did you told her?"
Harry didn't quite grasp the meaning of the question. "Told her what?" he asked, turning his attention away from Ginny and Neville.
"That you are in love with her," Ron said, his voice dropping low. Harry looked at Ron as if his face had just turned purple.
"Are you bloody insane? I can't tell her how I feel!" Harry whispered angrily. He groaned when he realized what he had said. Ron gave his friend a cheeky smile, and was about to make what was probably going to be a very inappropriate comment when Harry cut him off.
"You know what I mean, Ron. I can't tell her about the Potion…it's too…embarrassing. Besides, it would make her too uncomfortable and…well, it would get too weird…," Harry whispered, hoping Ginny was so engrossed in her conversation with Neville to overhear them.
`Especially when Roger is hanging all over her.'
Harry sighed. That's one thing he didn't want to remember…how she had smiled shyly up at Roger when he had touched her cheek…and how Roger had taken a step toward Hermione just before the door closed.
`Where is she?'
Harry looked at the entrance hall, unsure of what he was actually feeling. It was like half of him wanted nothing more than to make a run for the doors before Hermione came, and the other half couldn't wait to see her in the morning light.
Harry didn't noticed when Luna walked toward them and sat next to Ron and asked, "Has Hermione's Daily Prophet come in yet?"
"No. You want to read it? I thought you said it was rubbish," Ron said casually, chewing loudly on a juicy sausage.
"I do think it's rubbish. But the news about the missing artifact seemed interesting. I owled Dad yesterday for more information, but I haven't received his answer yet," Luna answered as she started playing with Ron's hair, the dreamy expression in her face masking her cunning intelligence.
"There she is," Harry said a little too happily when he caught sight of Hermione at the entrance…by herself. But the smile soon faded when Roger appeared a second later, giving Hermione a dimpled smile and putting his hand on the small of her back. She smiled gently up at him and let him guide her toward the house tables.
The Ravenclaws' table came first, so when they reached Roger's table Hermione and her companion stopped. Roger leaned to her and whispered something in her ear. Harry watched as Hermione shook her head, the auburn locks flying all over the place, and gave an apologetic smile to Roger.
Roger pouted slightly, but soon winked at her and sat down at the head of the table, all his fellow housemates greeting him as if the King of England had decided to drop by for breakfast.
Harry searched his brain to see if he knew of any spell that could make Roger's teeth rot and fall out.
Before he knew it, Hermione had already reached his side. "Good morning, everyone!" she said cheerily, taking the seat in front of Harry and greedily grabbing the two remaining slices of toast in the tray.
She didn't even bother to butter her toast, choosing to take a big bite out of one of the slices in a very Ron-like manner. When she raised her eyes and noticed the shocked expressions in her friends' faces, she mumbled with her mouth still full a rather deadpan "What?"
"Quite an appetite today, eh?" Ron said. Lavender and Parvati managed to overhear them as they walked behind Hermione. They winked at each other, a malicious glint evident in their eyes.
"Leave Hermione alone, Ron. She probably needs to replenish all the energy she exhausted last night," Lavender said, winking mischievously at Ron and Harry as they kept walking toward the entrance.
`Hags!'
"What was that all about?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrow, swallowing her last bit of toast and reaching for the bacon before the Ron and the rest of her friends mumbled various "I don't know" "have no idea" "insane mumblings" and anything else that might avoid them having to explain to Hermione the dirty implications of Lavender's words.
`They can't be right, can they?'
"Anyway, Harry was right. I haven't been eating well these last few days," Hermione continued casually, drinking from her pumpkin juice glass. The sound of wings flapping nearby alerted them to the morning owl post.
A young tawny owl stopped in front of Hermione, dropping the newest edition of the Daily Prophet before flying away. "Can I see this?" Luna asked, nudging the newspaper with her finger. Hermione nodded absently, and Luna quickly grabbed the newspaper and started reading the front page, her face disappearing behind the magazine.
Hermione gave Ron a questioning look; nobody had any misunderstanding about how Luna felt about the Daily Prophet's reporting skills. Ron just shrugged, saying, "She's nosing about the stolen thingy in Berlin." Hermione's eyes suddenly sparkled with interest.
`I love how she looks when she's curious.'
`No, you don't! Stop thinking that!'
"The artifact! Oh, I forgot about that! Any news, Luna?" Hermione asked her best friend's girlfriend.
"Well, there's a small article about it, but there's no new information about the artifact… although there's something strange concerning a security guard," Luna said, placing the newspaper back on the table and pointing it at the third panel of the main page.
Under the title "Ministry in Trouble", there was a picture of a foreign looking wizard with a caption of "Till Linderman, Ministry of Magic, Berlin."
Harry watched Hermione distractedly as she read the article out loud.
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Ministry in Trouble
By Megara Blackflower
The enigma of the missing magical artifact from the Museum of Berlin keeps getting more mysterious as the local Ministry of Magic office releases new information pertaining to the case.
There are no records about the artifact, which the Ministry of Magic still refuse to identify to the general public, being loaned to the Museum for their "Myths of the Dead from the Middle Ages" exhibition. In fact, as official records show, the artifact is supposed to be housed in the Ministry offices and its extraction consists an illegal and dangerous action.
A parallel investigation has been opened in order to find how the artifact was taken from the Ministry of Magic offices without the appropriate permissions.
There are rumors that the brightest minds in the magical community have been called by the Ministry of Magic to help in locating this artifact, but at the moment, these rumors are still unconfirmed.
In what could be related news, 43-year-old Frank Potente, who worked as a museum security guard for the last 13 years, was found dead in his apartment late last night. No official information about the cause of death, time of death, or if it might be related to the theft of the artifact has been released.
When this reporter questioned Till Linderman about Mr. Potente, the liaison between the Berlin and London Ministry of Magic offices, the only answered I received was "No comment."
The Prophet promises our readers that we will not rest until we find what the Ministry seems to be hiding.
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"13 years…13 wasn't a lucky number for poor Frank," Ron said with a slight chuckle. He quickly sobered when Hermione glared at him.
"A missing artifact and a dead guard? I think that's too much coincidence for my liking," Neville said to Hermione as Ginny wiped some watermelon drops from his cheek.
"I agree," Hermione nodded, "there's something fishy with this." She looked up at Harry to find him staring right at her with a rather wistful expression on his face. Thinking that Harry was lost in his thoughts about the newspaper article, Hermione asked, "What do you think Harry?"
Harry shook his head slightly, as if waking up from a dream, and blurted exactly what had been floating in his head at that moment.
"I think you are amazing."
Hermione frowned, Ron choke on his juice, Luna sighed rather dramatically, Ginny and Neville stifled a laugh, and Harry clenched his fists under the table when he realized what he had just said out loud.
`Great, Mr. Smooth! Just great! Why don't you leave your foot in your mouth and save you the trouble?'
"What did you say, Harry?" Hermione asked, sure she had not heard correctly.
"Oh, that… I think you are right. Something's definitely fishy with the…the…the thingy," Harry corrected, doing his best to save face. As judged by the small "O" that Hermione's lips formed, she was satisfied with the answered.
Harry stepped on a foot that belonged to Ron, who was now snickering at Harry's slip of the tongue. Hermione was once again busy with her food as Ginny reached over the table and grabbed the newspaper away from Hermione.
"Oh, I don't know why you insist on reading this. As if we didn't have enough bad news to deal with in our lives," Ginny said good-naturedly. She flipped the newspaper and an article on the last page seemingly grabbed her attention.
"WHAT?" Ginny screamed in alarm. Everyone in the Great Hall turned their heads to look at the youngest Weasley, but only her closest friends leaned toward her and looked over her shoulders to find what had captured her attention.
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A Close Call
By Paolo The Fabulous
The Weird Sisters, the most successful wizarding musical trio of the century, were involved in a strange incident in Belgium's The Pit last night after finishing their presentation.
According to the three musicians, three fans entered their dressing rooms after the show and demanded to take pictures with them. The girls complied, fearing for their safety. After the pictures were taken, the rabid fans demanded that the girls apparated with them back to their hotel rooms.
It was then that Tori, the group's lead singer, summoned her wand and hexed her attacker as the other two girls managed to free themselves from their fans. When club security opened the magically sealed door, this talented trio had already stunned their attackers senseless.
"I think this was a good thing. We were a bit to lax with security and this showed us we need to be more careful in the future because we don't know who might be out there to get us," Alanis, the most sensible of the group said.
"Oh, this was so exciting! I've already written a song about the incident. You can find it on our next album!" squealed Fiona, the drummer.
"There's a moral to this story. DON'T MESS WITH THE WEIRD SISTERS!" Tori said, offering her trademark middle-finger pose to the adoring fans waiting outside.
This reporter was assured that this incident would not affect their future concert dates."
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"Oh, this is tragic!" Ginny huffed, putting the newspaper down. Everyone knew how passionately Ginny felt about her favorite musical group.
"I didn't even know this thing had an Entertainment section," Neville said in wonder as he grabbed the newspaper and passed it back to Hermione.
"Well, at least this won't affect Friday's plans," Hermione said absently. She winced as soon as the words left her mouth.
"WHAT PLANS?" Ginny screamed excitedly, her brown eyes wide with shock.
"Shh! Lower your voice, Gin! No one's supposed to know!" Hermione whispered, leaning closer to Ginny.
"No one's supposed to know what?" Luna asked, her curiosity peaked by Hermione's embarrassed expression.
"Oh, I'm just going to say it…but you can't tell anybody because this was supposed to be a surprise. Agreed?" Hermione asked. Everyone but Harry nodded in agreement. He was too distracted by the chocolate curl that kept falling over her cheek to hear what she was saying.
"The Weird Sisters are the surprise musical guest on the Halloween Ball. It was Dumbledore's idea…he's a fan," Hermione whispered. Harry had to clamp his hand over Ginny's mouth to shut the squealing.
"Calm down, Ginny. I think you've busted my eardrum," Harry whispered as he let go of Ginny's mouth. Ginny turned excitedly toward Neville and started talking about rehearsing dance moves for her favorite songs. Neville looked at Harry like a deer caught in headlights.
"Are you okay? You are awfully quiet," Hermione asked Harry with a worried expression.
"Don't worry about it," Harry whispered, trying to manage a smile but failing.
"Harry, you have a date yet?" Ginny asked with girlish abandon. The sudden change in subject just added more confusion to Harry's already befuddled psyche.
"A date? For what?" Harry asked Ginny. Ginny sighed, the expression on her face changing from excitement to maddeningly patient, as if she had just realized she was speaking to a child.
"For the Halloween Ball, Harry. You remember? Tomorrow night!" Ginny answered Harry, shaking her head, showing her disappointment at his obvious indifference.
"I'm not going to the ball, Ginny. Ipso facto, I don't need a date," Harry answered, trying to hide his annoyance at the question behind his irritatingly casual tone.
"What do you mean you are not going? Harry, this is your last year at Hogwarts! Surely you don't want to miss this," Luna said, looking at Ron in search for support. Ron was too busy chewing his pancakes, and it wasn't until Luna slapped him in the back of the head that he looked at Harry and said something like "Una a'ight'"
But it was Hermione's expression that made Harry's stomach do violent summersaults. It was almost… almost as if she suspected… that she was the reason why.
`Merlin, you have to do something! Say something!'
"You mean why I want to miss having to dress up, ask a girl I probably can't stand out, dance on each other's toes all night… when I'd rather be doing anything else? Because I think the whole ball thing is just stupid," Harry answered without really thinking about it before it came out of his mouth.
`Anything but that, you idiot!'
Harry realized his mistake as soon as he caught sight of the shocked expression on his friends' faces…especially Hermione's.
"I'll see you later in class," Hermione said briskly, standing up with such speed that her chair screeched loudly. Harry didn't know if Hermione was angry or just hurt, but her chocolate eyes were unusually shiny. She walked toward the exit before any of them could say anything.
Harry slapped himself in the forehead as Ron whispered angrily, "What the hell did you do that for? You know she's been working hard on this whole Halloween thing!"
"Because I'm a git," Harry answered, getting up from his chair and hastily following Hermione out of the Great Hall. Luckily, Roger was so busy recounting his latest Quidditch victory to his groupies to notice Hermione's departure.
He wasn't as lucky when he found Malfoy and his goons standing by the entrance. Malfoy was behaving rather oddly that morning, for he barely looked at Harry as he whispered, "Fighting with the girlfriend, Potty?"
"That line is getting old, Malfoy. Do us all a favor and get a new one," Harry mumbled bitterly, looking to his right to find Hermione at the end of the hallway.
Hermione had turned around the corner toward their first class when Harry finally managed to catch up with her. That girl could really walk! "Hermione, wait!" he said breathlessly as he jogged to her side.
Hermione took a deep breath and turned toward him, her eyes shooting daggers at him. "What is it, Harry?" she snapped impatiently.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to say that I thought the Halloween Ball was stupid," he blurted.
Hermione looked at him in astonishment, and hissed, "That was exactly what you said!"
"I know, but I didn't mean it! It's just…it's just," Harry stuttered, nervously running his hands thru his hair.
"Just WHAT?" Hermione demanded, throwing her hands up in the air as if asking the superior forces to help her understand her friend.
"That I don't want everyone to know I'm not going because I can't find a date," Harry said in defeat. He tried to rake his brain for the memory of another moment where he had sounded as pathetic as he had just sounded. He came out with none.
Hermione's expression softened instantaneously. "Oh, Harry… that's not so bad. I'm sure there are dozens of girls who'd die to go with you," she whispered, taking a step toward him and resting her hand on his forearm.
`Why aren't you one of them?'
Harry gulped.
"There's only one girl I want to go with…and she's taken," Harry said before he could stop himself, utterly entranced by the way she clutched possessively to his arm. He remembered the night before, when Hermione had taken a hold of his shirt and her nails had raked his stomach with her nails in exquisite torture, and a violent tremor ran through him.
Hermione didn't make the association, as judged by the way she sighed before she added, "I'm sure it's her loss."
"Yeah," Harry said absently, lowering his head until his eyes fell on the floor. Contradictory thoughts assaulted his head: in one hand, the heat that spread through his body at her chaste contact was intoxicating, and on the other hand, he was so afraid she was going to see through his charade that he wished he were anywhere but here.
He looked up when he felt her fingers brush against his forehead, moving his unruly hair away from his scar. Harry's eyes locked momentarily with Hermione's and his heart skipped a beat. There was so much emotion in those brown eyes, emotions he couldn't identify… much less understand. But they were gone as soon as Hermione noticed he was looking at her, and her attention focused on the area she was touching.
"Well, the bump is gone," Hermione said, referring to Harry's first injury when he crashed in the library.
"What can I say? Madame Pomfrey's the best," Harry said in an attempt to be lighthearted, not wanting to betray the fact that her touch made his nerves stand on end. Hermione stopped tracing the scar with her finger and tucked her hands back inside her robes in an unusually anxious gesture.
"Did you sleep well last night?" Hermione added as an afterthought. Harry knew that it was her way of asking, "Did you have any more nightmare/visions I should worry endlessly about?"
"Like a baby," Harry lied, mustering a half-hearted smile. The dream had haunted him all morning. Now that he had managed to push it out of his mind for more mundane thoughts appropriate for a 17-year-old male (but equally scary), he wasn't about to bring it back.
Not, at least, till he speaks with Dumbledore.
Hermione didn't look convinced, but decided the morning had been troublesome enough without pressing the subject any further. "When are you going to talk to Dumbledore?" she asked curiously. Harry smiled sadly; only Hermione could pinpoint exactly what he had been thinking about.
"There are at least 15 minutes till class starts. I think I'll wait for him outside the Great Hall so I can talk to him as soon as possible," Harry said, very conscious of his promise to Hermione last night.
"You better try his office. He wasn't in the Great Hall during breakfast," Hermione informed him. Harry frowned slightly. It was true that he hadn't actually looked for Dumbledore in the staff table that morning, but he thought he didn't have to. He couldn't think of a single day Dumbledore hadn't joined his students for breakfast.
"I guess I better try his office then," Harry said. He was going to ask `Do you want to go with me?' but he proved to be too slow to ever get a chance.
"There you are!" a voice boomed from the other end of the hallway. Harry and Hermione turned their heads simultaneously to find Roger Davies jogging toward them. He beamed when he reached Hermione's side, and again placed his hand on the small of her back.
Harry didn't catch Hermione's embarrassed expression, because all his energy was focused on trying to perform a little wandless magic that would make Roger's perfect set of blonde hair go up in flames.
"I've been looking everywhere for you. Peeves just flooded Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. We need to get there right away," Roger said in a honey-coated voice. The kid had the uncanny ability of talking about toilets with the same charm that someone used when talking about poetry classics.
"Right. I'll see you later, Harry," Hermione nodded, her eyes avoiding Harry's, her cheeks slightly flushed. She finally turned around and, with Roger's hand still firmly tucked in the small of her back, started walking away.
Roger looked over his shoulder and winked at Harry before turning his attention back to Hermione. Harry couldn't scream at Roger to go eff himself, he certainly couldn't take his wand and hex him with Hermione standing so close, and he definitely couldn't cry like the big baby he was.
So he gave Roger the international "hope your dick falls off" signal by proudly showing him his middle finger.
`Really courageous of you to flip someone behind the back, Potter. Really brave.'
Harry decided to forget about hurting Roger until after his little talk with Dumbledore.
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Meanwhile…
Luna, Ron, Ginny and Neville watched with their mouths open as Harry ran out of the Great Hall in an
attempt to catch up with Hermione.
"And I thought you were an insensitive jerk when you spoke to girls… was I wrong," Ginny said to Ron with a sarcastic smile. Ron glared at his little sister, but spared Ginny from the expletives he wanted to release when he Luna's fingers started twirling his hair. That was Ron's Achilles' heel.
"I think we need to do something for Harry," Neville suddenly spoke up. Ginny, Ron and Luna turned their heads to look at Neville. Neville was seemingly lost in thought, his finger tapping rhythmically the empty glass in front of him.
"Harry's obviously stressed out. I mean…not only with this whole love potion situation, but with what happened in Transfiguration and in Firenze's class yesterday…and I know he had another nightmare this morning…I just…I think we need to do something for him…to make him forget all the negative things, even if it's just for a moment…so he can realize what he feels for Hermione, potion or not," Neville finished, still tapping the glass absently.
The other three openly gaped at him, surprised that the ultra-shy, absent-minded boy could provide the solution to their problem with such ease. Neville finally stopped his tapping and looked at his friends, suddenly nervous to find them staring at him. "W-w-hat is it?" Neville stuttered.
"I think I love you more now than I did this morning," Ginny said truthfully, squeezing Neville's hand under the table. Neville's cheeks went bright red, and a shy smile came over his features as Ginny leaned in and brushed his lips gently over his. Ron groaned, and Luna had to pinch his butt cheek to stop him from pushing Neville away from Ginny.
"Alright, alright…before you two lovebirds make me sick," Ron interrupted, his ears as red as Neville's cheeks, "I think we need to plan out exactly what we are going to do for Harry that will make him all happy-go-lucky."
Neville, Ginny and Ron threw some ideas out…Ginny's idea involved chocolates, Neville's idea involved flowers, and Ron's idea involved Dean's dirty magazines. It wasn't until Luna coughed loudly that they turned their attention to her.
"What is it, darling?" Ron asked. Luna had a playful smile on her lips as she leaned toward her three conspirators.
"My dears, I think you are forgetting just who Harry Potter is…and what's the one thing that has the ability to make him forget every little trouble of his in the world?"
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A/N: This chapter is very VERY important. Lots of hidden clues scattered throughout. Hope you enjoyed! Leave me some feedback!
Thanks to my reviewers for taking the time to let me know what they thought of this story.
A bit of trivia:
Till Linderman is the name of the singer of Rammstein, one of my favorite bands.
The names of the Weird Sisters (Tori, Fiona, Alanis) come from three of my favorite all time singers: Tori Amos, Fiona Apple, and Alanis Morrisette.
The dead security guard is named after one of my favorite actress, Franka Potente (Ron Lola Run, The Bourne Identity).
Until the next update,
Anasazi
PS. Due to the recommendation of the wonderful WonkyKris (thank you, oh wonky one!), this story has a discussion thread on the PK forum. Although the forum does list this story's alternate location (Fanfiction.net), I strongly recommend that you keep reading the version posted in PK, since this is version 2.0 (the version in FF.net is sort of a draft). The link to the forum is the following: Caught in a Web discussion forum.
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