Title: Father's Day
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: J.K.R does. I don't. Any questions?
Author's Notes: Thank you all for the reviews. I'm thrilled you liked the confrontation between Harry and Artie! This story is somewhat still being edited in my mind … I've changed the ending at least three times. I'm hoping that stops … my muse only talks when I'm about to go to bed and I'm extremely tired. I wish I had the time to reply to each of you, but time is something I have relatively little of. Glad you like my work so far. This chapter will probably run a bit slow. Got a lot of little things I've got to get them through so I can get to some more of the good stuff. Hope you enjoy it anyways.
Chapter 6: Invitations and Insinuations
Harry Potter leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly as he set aside the last stack of papers. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to grading essays, but at least he didn't spend hours anymore trying to decipher the writing. He glanced at the clock, which read 10 p.m. He usually stayed up for an hour or two more, but there was nothing to do this evening.
Instead, he allowed his thoughts to drift over Artie. Sure enough, Harry's threats had seemed to work. Ron's son had yet to be tardy to a class, and every one of his assignments had been turned in promptly. But he hadn't spoken a word to Harry since. At first, Harry had been content with the new arrangement, anything felt better than being manipulated by the 11-year-old. But Harry couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out for them to make a breakthrough in their relationship. After all, this summer he would have to go back to his job as an Auror, and he couldn't very well do that with him and Artie on bad terms.
He sighed. He wished he could talk to someone about his fears regarding Artie, but Ginny never stayed past the evening meal, and while Harry had spent some time with Neville and some of his other former classmates, it just didn't have the same feel. What he really needed was Hermione.
Frowning, Harry pulled out his old Marauder's map, muttering the incantation and watching as the Hogwarts map came to life. Severus Snape was pacing back and forth in his office. Neville appeared to be sleeping, though that hardly surprised Harry, and McGonagall appeared to be in her office. His gaze flickered over the map, coming to the familiar name and tracing the outline with his finger.
Hermione Granger.
She was in her room, which of course did Harry no good. Each Hogwarts teacher had a private room, sealed by password. Still, Harry wondered if he might be able to crack hers. What would he say to her if he managed to get there?
I guess I can always figure it out if I make it, Harry thought to himself. He grabbed his invisibility cloak off the nightstand, a silent smirk of amusement coming to his face as he thought about all of the times he'd patrolled the corridors at night, scaring students who had broken curfew. Rumors of a hidden poltergeist had floated around, and Harry was more than happy to indulge them. He tucked the map into the pocket of his trousers and made his way out the door, the cloak pulled over his head to shield him from prying eyes.
He wound his way through the staircases, past the third floor corridor where he, Ron, and Hermione had found themselves trapped by Fluffy their first year, and down a long hallway where the suits of armor turned in the direction of his footsteps and scratched their helmets in puzzlement. He came the wall where a large statue of Godric Gryffindor sat squarely in the middle. Harry frowned, looking down at his map. Behind this wall was the corridor that supposedly led to Hermione's room, but how on earth was he supposed to get there?
Slowly he pulled of his cloak, scratching his head as he tried to think of a password that Hermione would choose.
"Gryffindor."
No response.
"Arithmancy."
Ditto.
"Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, McGonagall, Snape, Snape in dress," he said quickly.
The wall remained shut.
"Never going to figure it out," the statue of Godric Gryffindor said. "Might as well give it up."
Harry narrowed his eyes at the statue's announcement. "Fizzing Whizbee, Chocolate Frog, Quidditch Pitch, Lemon Drop, Hippogriff, Alohomora."
Still no response.
"World Cup, Dentist, Crookshanks, Hedwig, Transfiguration, Fluffy, Sorcerer's Stone, Chamber of Secrets, Basilisk, Voldemort," Harry said, beginning to grow desperate.
And the wall remained as solid as ever.
"Ravenclaw, Firebolt, Victor Krum, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Shrieking Shack, the Great Lake …"
Harry's eyes widened as the statue grumbled a quick "rats" and began turning. The stones in the wall began separating.
Great Lake? Hermione set her password as the place they … Harry felt his throat grow dry as he peered into the long stone corridor. Candles illuminated the hallway and Harry felt his nerves building as he tentatively walked down the hallway, coming to a halt beside a large, intimidating oak door. Harry hesitated only for a moment before lifting his hand and tapping three times on the heavy wood.
"Who is it?" Hermione's voice called out. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but only a high pitched squeak came out. The door opened, and soon Harry found himself standing across from a very surprised Hermione dressed in a uncomfortably short nightgown.
"Harry? What on earth are you doing here?" Hermione exclaimed, peering over his shoulder as if she expected McGonagall to be standing right behind him.
"I uh … I … uh … I mean I guessed your password … and I … I'm I just wanted to talk."
Hermione blushed a deep crimson when Harry admitted he cracked her password, but she hurriedly beckoned him in and retreated to her study. When she returned she was wearing a long, fluffy maroon bathrobe over her nightgown. Harry wasn't sure if that made it any better.
"What on earth are you doing out at this time of night? Don't you have classes to prepare for?"
"I finished," Harry said quickly, and then at Hermione's arched eyebrow, added, "I usually get that done in the afternoon."
"Since when do you do your work ahead of time?" she asked, settling onto an old chair and grabbing a steaming mug of what appeared to be hot tea.
"I had to learn when I became an Auror," Harry admitted ruefully. "They tend to get on your case if your paperwork isn't turned in by noon."
Hermione arched an eyebrow, clearly impressed. The two sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment before she spoke again. "You never answered my question. What are you doing here?"
Harry frowned, the original reason for his visiting Hermione having fled his mind. In truth, he'd never expected to make it this far, and now that he had, he was beginning to feel like a big idiot.
"Um, I uh, well the Halloween feast is tomorrow night, and um … the students have their first Hogsmeade trip and I have to run some errands to the ministry and um Diagon Alley do you wanna go with me?"
Both of Hermione's eyebrows raised so high Harry thought they might disappear off her forehead. Blushing furiously, he shook his head, quickly speaking again before she refused. "I mean, I just have to pick up some supplies and I thought if you had something maybe we could just pick them up together."
Hermione's shoulders seemed to relax just a bit and she took a deep sip of her tea, closing her eyes as she drank. After a moment she opened her eyes and met Harry's gaze.
"I think I'll go," she said quietly. "I have a book I'd like to pick up from Flourish and Blott's, and I need to replenish a few of my potion supplies."
Harry released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
"Great," he said, standing quickly to his feet. "Um, then, see you at … noon?"
At Hermione's nod, Harry gave her a rare grin, quickly bidding her goodnight before she could change her mind. Then he practically ran back down the corridor.
* * *
The next morning, Harry stood in front of the mirror of his private bathroom, staring at his reflection. He'd already spent fifteen minutes trying to get his unruly hair to behave - to no avail. Sighing, he traced his tongue over his teeth, trying to feel out any last grit from his toothpaste, and passed a hand over his recently-shaven chin.
It isn't a date, Harry thought to himself. Even still, he found himself more than just a little nervous. This was the first time he would be alone with Hermione since the night before their graduation.
Pulling one of his maroon sweaters over his forehead, and donning a pair of jeans and his favorite sneakers, Harry quickly tucked his wand in his coat and made his way to the front of the grand entrance. Nervous butterflies were bouncing in his stomach, lending itself to a feeling of nausea, but he tried to shake it off.
He'd been waiting for fewer than five minutes when he saw Hermione making her way towards him. Her image sent his heart skipping a beat and his pulse racing, and he found he had to remind himself to breath.
She didn't look much different than she normally did, except that she'd donned a light blue sweater, and her hair, normally unruly, had been partially tamed and pulled back into a large clip. A few tresses had been left loose, framing her face.
"Hello, Harry," she said quietly, giving him an odd look. Harry let out a breath and nodded lightly to her.
"Shall we get started?"
Hermione nodded, and together the two of them headed towards the nearest fireplace. Harry carefully opened his bag of floo powder, handed a bit to Hermione, and then stepped inside the fireplace and shouted "The Ministry of Magic!"
He felt the familiar tug on his body as he began falling, the various levels and fireplaces indecipherable. Soon, he felt his feet hit solid ground and Harry stepped out of the fireplace, brushing off the ever-familiar soot as he moved away from the entrance. A second later, Hermione appeared, and together the two of them made their way to Auror Headquarters and Kingsley's office.
Kingsley was busy at work, up to his elbows in stacks of parchment when the two arrived. So busy was he that he didn't notice their presence until Harry cleared his throat. The older wizard's eyes lit up warmly as he rose to his feet in greeting.
"Harry, Hermione, It's good to see you, come in," he said, beckoning to two chairs that had folders stacked at least three feet high. Harry and Hermione gave each other a quick glance, and Harry immediately stepped to one of the chairs and moved the folders in it to the ground. A second later the two of them were seated, albeit uncomfortably, on the hard wooden chairs.
"I'm glad you could come, Harry," Kingsley said, not quite looking at him as he shuffled through mounds of paper. "And I'm glad you brought Hermione. We might need her help on this one."
"On what?" Harry asked, feeling more confused than ever. For the first few weeks he'd been teaching at Hogwarts, he'd sent daily owls to the Ministry, trying to stay abreast of the comings and goings of the Aurors. Only after Kingsley sent him a fairly nasty Howler did Harry accept the fact that he was not going to be privy to any news on the Deatheaters.
"We captured Notts last week," Kingsley said, wincing as he knocked over a stack of paperwork and sent parchment flying across the room.
Harry's eyes widened. "Rupeus Notts?"
"Who's Rupeus Notts?" Hermione said, her forehead furrowed in confusion.
"A highly placed Deatheater," Kingsley said, not bothering to look at her as he shuffled through the drawers of his desk. "In fact, we think he's the second-in-command of all of the lot."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "So that's good then."
"Yes, and no," Kingsley said, clutching a piece of parchment in his hand as he closed his desk drawers. He focused his gaze on Hermione. "Good, because that's one less Deatheater we have to worry about. Bad because he's not talking, and we've spent the past two years trying to track down the hidden source of their funding."
Harry nodded, well remembering the countless hours he'd spent trying to break the financial backbone of Voldemort's lackeys. Every time he thought he stumbled on a lead, he took three steps back. It had been one of the most aggravating parts of his work.
"We got this shortly after we captured him," Kingsley said, handing a piece of parchment to Harry. Harry took it, frowning as he studied the parchment. Strange markings were scribbled on the paper - it appeared to be some type of code, but he could make neither rhyme nor reason of it.
"We think that's the key we've been looking for," Kingsley said. "If we can crack this, we think we'll be able to stop their funding at the source."
"What is it, exactly?" Harry said, frowning as he turned the paper upside down, trying to make sense of it.
"That's what we need you to figure out," the older wizard responded. "Or Hermione rather."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Why me?"
Kingsley gave her a weak smile. "The best minds in the Ministry have been pouring over this parchment for a week, and not one of them has been able to crack it. I've been given permission to use whatever methods are necessary to break that code. You have a NEWT in Ancient Runes. That might come in handy."
The younger witch nodded, taking the paper from Harry and studying it for a few minutes. "It doesn't look like anything I've seen before," Hermione said, a frown crossing her face.
"I know," Kingsley said with a sigh. "But we need that code. It's quite possible that if we find their financial backbone, we might stumble across their records too. That could lead us to even more important things - like finding out who killed Ron."
Harry's head snapped up at this revelation. Hermione froze for the briefest moment, then gave a slight nod, folding the paper and slipping it discreetly into the pocket of her jeans.
"I'll see what I can do," she said quietly. Kingsley nodded, and after a few minutes of idle chatter, he escorted the two to the front of the Ministry.
A half hour later, the pair found themselves walking in Diagon Alley. Neither spoke - Kingsley's words weighed heavily on their mind. Harry felt his heart racing - he wanted to avenge Ron as badly as Hermione did, he was sure. This parchment may be the only chance they had of getting revenge on the person who had killed him.
"I'm still not sure what they expect me to find," Hermione said, unexpectedly. Harry slowed in his walking, casting a glance at his brown-haired friend.
"Why do you say that?"
"Well," Hermione said with a frown. "Even if I do discover what it means, it's likely to be in code."
"But Kingsley's right," Harry said quickly. "You did get a NEWT on Ancient Runes. If anyone will be able to figure out what it says, it's you."
Hermione shrugged, and soon they were talking about nothing in particular, visiting shop after shop. Their bags began to steadily grow, and pretty soon it was time for lunch.
"Let's take a break, Harry," Hermione said, dragging her bags to a small table outside the Leaky Cauldron. Harry nodded, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he slumped into a seat. Hermione took the seat across from him, with their bags filling the last two chairs. Tom appeared, greeting both of them warmly and taking their orders, promising quick service before he disappeared into the kitchen. Harry turned his focus to Hermione, who, to his surprise, was staring directly at him.
"Hermione, can I ask you a question?" the raven-haired wizard asked. At her nod, he continued, "When I left, you were getting ready to start a job at St. Mungo's. But you came to Hogwarts, why?"
Hermione settled back in her chair, inhaling deeply as she met Harry's inquisitive gaze. "I did go on and finish my training at the hospital. I spent a few years there, in fact, as a Healer-in-Training under Augustus Pye."
Harry nodded, remembering how excited she had been when she'd first received notification of her acceptance into the program.
"Why did you leave?" he said, feeling just a bit more confused than before.
"It's … complicated," Hermione said quietly. "I liked being a healer, I really did. And my parents were thrilled I'd chosen to enter the medical profession. But … I just wasn't happy."
"But you were so excited when you got your letter of acceptance," Harry pointed out.
"Yes, I know," she acknowledged with a nod. "But … after awhile it quit being fun. Something was missing, I guess."
Harry felt a gnawing at his insides. Somehow, he wondered if Hermione's sudden change from healer to professor had anything to do with him.
"When Professor McGonagall owled me and told me there was going to be a position opening at Hogwarts, my first inclination was to turn it down," Hermione continued. "But after giving it some thought, I realized that maybe a change of environment was exactly what I needed. Once I stepped foot inside Hogwarts again…" her voice trailed off.
"What happened?" Harry asked, curiosity etched in his features. A small smile crossed Hermione's face as she looked back up at Harry. He instantly became mesmerized with her gaze.
"I realized I had come home," she said softly.
At that moment, Tom returned with their food and the two began talking about more mundane issues. Harry gradually began to lose his nervous edge and Hermione eventually relaxed enough to even laugh at a few jokes. Harry could almost imagine it being as if he had never left - almost.
After Tom brought their ticket, which Harry paid, much to Hermione's chagrin (he'd pointed out she'd done him a favor by joining him, as it's not much fun to do all your shopping alone), the two gathered their bags and were about to leave when Harry caught sight of a familiar head of blonde-hair making its way to Knockturn Alley.
"Draco," Harry said in a low hiss. Hermione stepped up beside him, her eyes squinting in confusion until she made the identification.
"Yes, but what's he doing in Knockturn Alley?"
Harry frowned, "I don't know, but I think I better find out."
"Harry," Hermione said, a hint of warning in her voice, "Ginny isn't going to like you following him around like a Deatheater."
Harry looked back at Hermione. "I just want to see where he's going. I won't follow him into any stores. But what business could he possibly have in an alley that's the shopping center for most dark wizards in these parts."
Hermione could not offer an answer. Together, the two of them carefully wound their way into the darker alleyway, taking caution to remain a safe distance behind Draco. Hermione looked more than a little nervous to be in the presence of so many unsavory people, but Harry moved quickly, at ease among the darker elements of society. After awhile Draco turned into a store, which Harry recognized instantly. It had been the store he and his father had almost caught Harry in his second year.
With a hurried whisper to Hermione, he ducked into an adjoining alleyway, coming to a stop a few feet from a window as he pressed his back against the wall. Hermione stared at him, questions in her eyes, but before she could speak Harry quickly pressed a forefinger to his lips and arched his neck towards the window. The woman nodded, ducking underneath the window and going to the other side.
Inside, Harry could hear low voices, but it was impossible to determine who was talking. Suddenly, a very distinct voice caught his ear.
"I'm warning you, if you're responsible for this you're dead."
Hermione's eyes widened at Draco's threat. Harry shook his head, craning his head towards the room.
"I'm not, I swear. I'm just the messenger. He knows you were there."
"Who does?" came Draco's sharp reply.
"I … I don't know …" the other, sicklier sounding voice whimpered.
"You're lying!"
"I'm not, I swear. I've never seen him. I just overheard this!"
There was a thump, and Harry's hand instinctively arched for his wand. Then, just as sudden, all went silent.
His eyes widening in realization, Harry sharply grabbed Hermione's hand, and before she could protest, he drug her behind a trash can and had summoned their bags. Moments later Draco Malfoy passed the entrance of the alleyway. Harry's breath caught in his throat as the grey-eyed wizard cast a look in their direction before walking away.
Hermione closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she pulled her hand from Harry's grip. She gave him a weak smile as they quickly gathered their bags and made their way quickly back to Hogwarts.
* * *
"Harry! Hermione! There you two are!"
They had just made their way into the Great Hall after returning their bags when Ginny's voice called to them. The younger witch came up to them, giving both of them a hug and a light peck on the cheek to Harry before sitting down next to them. Harry and Hermione had not yet talked about what they'd seen in Knockturn Alley, but Harry had a bad feeling about telling Ginny what he'd seen. The fiery redhead would not like it if she knew Harry had been spying on her husband.
"They just passed around the list for the Christmas Holidays. Will you be signing up to stay?"
Hermione nodded, but Harry gave Ginny a slight frown.
"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I mean, your mum will probably want to see Artie."
Ginny's face took on a thoughtful expression. "That wouldn't be good, would it? You really need some time alone with him."
Harry looked at the table glumly. "Don't know why. He's still not speaking to me."
"That's why you need to spend some time alone with him," Ginny stated, matter-of-factly. "Get to know him."
"But how," Harry said, hating the fact that his voice sounded a bit whiney. "We have nothing in common - he doesn't even like flying!"
"Then find something you two do have in common, Harry," Hermione said. Harry glanced at her and she returned his stare unflinchingly.
"Like what?" he demanded. She shrugged.
"That's up to the two of you," she replied, unperturbed.
Harry sighed, slumping back in his chair. "Doesn't matter anyways, I suppose. I don't have a place to stay anyways."
"What about Grimmauld Place?" Ginny asked.
"Grimmauld Place? I haven't been there in years. It's probably got cobwebs up to the ceiling." Harry said.
"Well, then maybe you should start cleaning," Hermione said. "Or hire someone to do it."
Harry frowned. "Maybe …" he allowed his voice to trail off, unsure. What would he do with Artie during the whole winter break?
Ginny gave him a sympathetic look. "Look, Harry, I'll send an owl to Fleur. I'm sure she can talk Bill into having my parents over for Christmas. It will do them a lot of good to get out of the country for awhile."
"Fleur?" Harry asked, confusion building. Ginny sighed, exasperated.
"Yes Fleur. Not everyone in my family hates me, Harry." Ginny responded as if Harry were a two-year-old.
"How is Draco anyways?" Hermione interrupted suddenly. Harry's eyes widened and Ginny's face took on a suspicious look as her blue eyes leveled on her friend.
"He's fine," she said suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"
Hermione immediately paled, and Harry could instantly tell she hadn't counted on Ginny questioning her on this. Harry grimaced inwardly, knowing he'd face Ginny's wrath; but his desire to spare Hermione from further discomfort overruled his senses.
"I saw him today in Knockturn Alley," Harry said, drawing a sharp gaze from Ginny. "I was just telling Hermione about it."
"Knockturn Alley?" Ginny asked, her face confused. Then, understanding dawned on her and she narrowed her eyes angrily. "You were spying on my husband?!?"
Harry winced, bracing for the screams that were sure to come. But none did. Instead, Ginny rose angrily to her feet, pushing forcefully away from the table, angry tears welling in her eyes.
"I can't believe you," Ginny whispered, her voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "You're just as bad as my family."
And with that, she left.