A/N: K... I'm gonna say this now... It MAY not happen at all, but the way it looks now, it's inevitable. The updates may become... erm... Farther apart. You guys have almost caught up to me... I've just been so busy lately that I haven't had much time to write. I was about five chapters ahead of you when I posted the first three and now I'm only two, so I'm telling you, my updates will probably be quite sporadic until I can get ahead again. Yeah, so moving on...
Much thanks to everyone who reviewed and to my brilliant beta... You rock! Thanks to Meg/Mel/Lily who listened (for my insanity's sake) when I had mad plot bunnies... (Meg/Mo/Herm-Own-Ninny *hearts* you, right CECIL?)
And I still own nothing...
Chapter Nine:
I'm Going Slightly Mad
"I'm one card short of a full deck
I'm not quite the shilling
One wave short of a shipwreck
I'm not my usual top billing
I'm coming down with a fever
I'm really out to sea
This kettle is boiling over
I think I'm a banana tree
Oh dear
"I'm going slightly mad
I'm going slightly mad
It finally happened - happened
It finally happened - uh huh
It finally happened
I'm slightly mad
Oh dear"
'I'm Going Slightly Mad'
-Queen
It's been a bad day all around. First off, I went to Gringotts to withdraw some money and it was all gone. All of it. My vault was dusty, dry and empty, not a single Knut growing dust bunnies in a corner. Neville stuttered something about nothing improper going on, said I need to talk to Dumbledore. So I had to go all the way to France just to get my hands on some money. Yeah... That's what I thought. But it couldn't stop there, oh no! Rita Skeeter had to corner me a get an exclusive interview. I told her to sod off, so there'll probably be a nasty article about me in tomorrow morning's paper. Like I'd tell Rita anything when I haven't even had a chance to talk to Hermione yet. When I finally got home-er, back to the Burrow-Molly had just gotten an owl telling her that Arthur had been hurt on one of his raids. She cried a little but then got angry. 'I've been telling him that he's too old to be doing this!' she ranted to Ginny and me. We Flooed all of the Weasleys except for Ron and Hermione. Their fireplace was blocked-something about James playing with the Floo powder-so Ginny went over to their house. Now, all of us, minus Molly, are sitting around the kitchen table just waiting for news and trying to keep busy.
"We should be there..." Fred says suddenly.
"For Dad..." George adds.
"And Mum..." Ron agrees.
Hermione is sitting across from Ron with her arms crossed. She really doesn't look happy. Sigh. Have I seen her look happy once since I've been back? No, don't believe I have. Maybe she's miserable with Ron. Maybe when the shock of my return wears off... Or maybe she looks miserable because I'm back. Yeah, it's probably that one.
Finally she speaks up. "You should all go to St. Mungo's. I'll stay here and wait for word."
Ron rubs his forehead. "I'd really like for you to be with us, 'Mione. We-I need you to be there."
She looks across the table and her face softens. She reaches across for his hand. "Ron," she says softly, "you know how much I care about Arthur. It's not that I don't want to go, but we can't take James. You know children aren't allowed in the Critical Care wards."
At the mention of his name, James perks up. "I can stay by myself, Mum. It's almost my birthday, you know," he says authoritatively. God, he sounds so much like Hermione that it hurts. I always thought Hermione would have my sons. We both wanted a big family-guess Ron changed her mind on that one.
Hermione suppresses a smile. "Of course I know it's almost your birthday. Still, I'd feel more comfortable if you weren't alone tonight."
James considers this seriously for a moment, then his face lights up. "I can stay with Harry Potter! He probably shouldn't be alone, either." He looks so pleased with himself that I can see Hermione struggling for a way to let him down easily.
"That's really not a good idea, James," she says slowly. "See, Harry's not terribly... responsible. I'd rather leave you with someone I trust. Besides, we can't expect Harry to inconvenience himself just for us."
OUCH. I know I'm not her favorite person right now, far from it, it fact, but it is a family emergency. And I'm pretty sure that I, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, can handle one small child for a couple of hours.
"I don't mind." I speak up. "You need to be with your... family, Hermione. Let me do this for you." My eyes plead with her to understand that I want to do this. I want to show her that no matter what she thinks of me, I still care about her. I want her to see me as the good guy here.
"Heh..." she snorts. "Right. Good one, Harry! Let's get serious, who am I going to leave James with?"
"I'm serious, Hermione." I speak softly. "I'll watch James for you."
I glance over at Ron and see him looking at me with an intensity that I'm not used to from him. I stare back impassively, waiting for him to pass a verdict. Somehow, it feels like there's a lot riding on this stare-down. Finally, he nods once, decisively, and I see a flicker of something-pain? fear? and something that looks strangely like satisfaction-in his eyes. He turns to Hermione and takes her hand, raises it to his lips. "Leave James with Harry, Hermione. They'll be okay. After all," he grins, "how much damage can James cause in a couple of hours?"
She jerks away and glares at him. Ahh... Trouble in paradise? "It's not James I'm worried about, Ronald." She shifts her eyes to me. "All right. But just this once. And just because there's no alternative."
* * *
I should have known by that smirk that Malfoy and Ron exchanged... I should have known when Fred and George patted me on the back and nodded solemnly... I should have known by the way Ginny pointed me to the First Aid supplies... I should have known... But I didn't.
So, now I'm chasing a Mini-Ron around the Burrow, blindly waving my wand and yelling 'Reparo' as he breaks things. We've been up and down the stairs-all the stairs, from basement to attic-at least fifteen times and I am exhausted. I sink into the couch, lean my head back, close my eyes, and desperately try to catch my breath. I'm tensed up, waiting for the next crash, when I feel James bounce up beside me. He stops. "James?" I say wearily, not bothering to open my eyes.
No answer.
"James?" I open my eyes and find myself staring straight into his. "Holy shit!"
He claps a hand to his mouth and widens his eyes. "Umm! You said a bad word!"
"What?" Oh...
"I'm telling my mummy you said a bad word in front of me!" He shakes his head. "I don't think she'll like that very much." He considers me seriously. "Then again, she'd probably expect something like that from an inconsiderate prat like you."
What? Where does he get this stuff? "Urm... what did you just call me?"
"Inconsiderate prat. That's what my dad calls you. One of the nicer things he calls you." James grins mischievously. "Mum really won't like it when I tell her you taught me shit."
I can't have him telling Hermione about that... "Look, James... If you don't tell your mum, I'll... I'll..." I bite my lip, desperately thinking of what might please him.
He starts bouncing up and down. I swear, the child cannot stay still. "It's going to be my birthday."
"Really?" I ask. Well, at least he's not running to tattle... Or running, period. And he's changed the subject, so maybe Hermione won't be washing both our mouths out with soap.
"Yep!" he answers gleefully, still bouncing. "What are you getting me?"
Well, who said I was getting you anything? "Erm..." Think, Harry, think! What did you want when you were six years old? "A teddy bear."
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Teddy bears are for babies!" He keeps bouncing. "What are you getting me?"
"Er..." I purse my lips and think some more. What did Dudley have that I always wanted? "A racecar."
He actually stops bouncing and stares at me. "Racecars are for babies! What are you getting me?"
Come on, Harry, this is Hermione's kid we're talking about. "I know! You'll love it. I'll get you a book."
The look he gives me is so scathing I want to shrink away from him. "A book?"
He asks, incredulously.
"Hogwarts... A History. It's was always Her... your mum's favourite."
He sits back, still giving me that Look. "Why in bloody hell would I want a book?"
"James!"
He looks terribly guilty for a moment, then grins up at me, a lopsided, gap-toothed grin, and at that moment he's so cute that my heart hurts for what might have been.
"Oops." He says, then shrugs. "Well, we're even now. I won't tell on you and you won't tell on me. Will you?" he looks up at me with huge, worried eyes, eyes that almost seem to change color as I watch, shifting from blue to brown to... green? No, surely it was a trick of the light.
"So what are you really getting me for my birthday?" James asks, snapping me out of my reverie.
Hmm... "What do you want?" Now, that was good. Why didn't I think of that before?
He grins. "A broom."
I look over to the corner. "But... you already... have a... broom..."
"That one is for babies!" He sighs. "And Mum enchanted it so that it only goes four feet off of the ground and how am I supposed to play Quidditch four feet off of the ground?" James begins bouncing again.
The kid has a point. Wait a minute... If James is really as spoiled as Molly said, then why hasn't someone already bought him a broom? But... Hermione hates flying. "James, what does your Mum think about you getting a broom?"
"She loves the idea!" He nods fervently.
"Oh... Well, then, don't you think that she and your dad will get you one?" I ask him.
James's eyes widen and he shakes his head. "No!" He leans towards me. "Now, don't tell them that I told you this but, I don't think they have very much money."
So that's where the money from my Gringott's vault went. She's been using it to live on all these years... Merlin... I make a mental note to transfer some money to the London branch in case she needs it. "I see."
"My birthday party's Friday!" He continues bouncing.
I smile. "I'm aware of that."
"You coming?"
"Well... James, isn't it about your bedtime?"
"CATCH ME!" James hops up and starts running around. I stand up and start jogging around. After about fifteen minutes of this, I collapse into a chair and close my eyes.
There's a pop in the kitchen and I hear Hermione walk into the living room. "Harry! James!" She grabs the red-haired streak as he runs across the living room and she points upstairs. "Harry, why is James still up? It's hours past his bedtime!"
I don't open my eyes. It hurts too badly. "Too... tired... to... fight." I could swear that I just heard Hermione muffle a laugh, but I don't mind. At least she's laughing.
* * *
I sit upright in my hospital bed, jam my glasses on my face, and wipe the perspiration from my forehead.
"Hello, Mr. Potter." Professor Dumbledore is sitting beside my bed with his hands folded neatly in his lap.
"Hermione... Is Hermione all right?" I ask hurriedly.
He half-smiles at me. "I think a more appropriate question is are you all right?"
I ignore him. Who cares about me? "Is Hermione all right?"
He stands, crosses to the wall and turns his back to me. "The battle drained you, Harry. You're weak, vulnerable."
"Is Hermione all right?"
"Voldemort won't want to do battle again for quite a while... He's probably worse off than you. It'll be sometime before you're up and ready to go out again."
"Is Hermione all right?"
"Kingsley and Remus will continue to train you. You're greatly improved. Even Severus noticed it."
Is he trying to make me angry? "Is Hermione all right?"
"I must say, Harry... I was quite proud of you. I didn't think Voldemort and you would survive."
I look around for something to throw. "Is-Hermione-all-right?" I hiss through gritted teeth.
Professor Dumbledore turns to me. "She's protected."
I raise an eyebrow at him. "What in bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"
"She's well protected in the walls of Hogwarts. No harm will come to her, Harry, I assure you. We're watching out for her. And, I dare say, Ron is keeping an eye or two on her. He's moved into your room." He laughs.
Didn't waste any time, did he? "Oh." Well, at least they're not bloody sharing the room. "Well, what of Ron? How is he?"
"Fine. They're both just fine." He leans toward me. "I believe they miss you."
I want to talk to Hermione... I need to talk to Hermione... "Can I talk to them?"
Professor Dumbledore sighs. "No... I'm afraid that just cannot be arranged. There are more things to consider than you know of..."
I throw a shoe against the wall. "Damn you!"
He closes his eyes and I realize just how lined his face is. "You can be angry if you wish, but you could betray our whereabouts if you spoke to her."
"I don't care about our whereabouts! Where in bloody hell are our 'whereabouts'? I don't care about any of this! I just want to go back to Hermione!" I know I'm hurting him, but I don't care. "Do you know what it's like to be in love? Do you know what it's like to want something so badly that you physically hurt? Do you know how that feels? I want her! I need her..." I fight back tears.
"Which is it? Want and need are two very different things."
"I need her..."
"You would risk her life for a night of passion?"
He misinterprets me. "I need her in more ways than one...
Dumbledore shakes his head. "I am sorry..."
I pick at a string on the blanket in between my knees. "Well... C... Can you give her something for me?"
He nods. "Of course."
I reach over and dig through a drawer. It's not there... Bloody hell... "Well, it must have gotten lost in battle. Can you tell her something, then?"
"What?"
"T... Tell her that I love her... And that I meant what I said... that night... Up on the tower..."
Dumbledore smiles at me. "I'll tell her... Get some sleep, Harry... The sooner you defeat Voldemort... The sooner you get to go home to her."
TEASER
"Do you love him?" he hisses.
"He's been there through the best and worst times of my life." What is he trying to prove?
He steps back and crosses his arms. "You're not answering my question, Hermione."
A/N: (Kinda shortish this time... Ah, well... Take it or leave it! :D)