Chapter 20- Admittance and Reunion
When Ron and Hermione questioned Harry about his conversation with Hagrid upon his arrival to lunch, he brushed it off, stating simply that Hagrid was checking up on how his summer had been. Harry was careful to avoid Hermione's eyes as he said this, instead pretending to be extremely interested in his food, which he merely pushed around his plate with his fork. He could feel her gaze penetrating him from across the table the entire meal, but whenever he looked up at her she only gave him a warm smile. Harry was grateful that Ron was too preoccupied with thoughts about Quidditch to pay him much concern. Even as he shoveled food down with his right hand, Ron's left hand was scrawling busily away at a play he entitled "Sink and Dash."
After lunch Ron headed off to his next lesson and Harry made directly for the library. However, he didn't make it more than a few steps up the stairs when Hermione called out to him.
"Harry! Wait!"
She appeared in front of him, heaving her bag back onto her shoulder with both hands.
"I want to know the truth," she said simply.
The unease and panic he had felt a short while earlier returned full blast. He couldn't do this. He couldn't tell her.
"What are you on about?" he snapped moodily, shoving past her.
She caught up to him quickly, running up in front of him again and holding her arm straight out against his chest, pushing him back. Tears were gathering in her eyes and Harry had to bite his lip and turn his face away from her, the sight hurt him so much.
"Stop doing this to me, Harry," she pleaded. "Why won't you just tell me what's really wrong?"
Harry took a deep breath, met her eyes again, and made up his mind.
"Follow me," he said plainly, grabbing her hand and leading her up the stairs and down a deserted corridor. They reached a seemingly ordinary wall. Harry released her hand, closed his eyes tight, and thought about what he desired.
"I need a place where no one will interrupt us or hear us," he repeated over and over again in his head as he paced back and forth in front of the wall three times. Soon a tiny door half his height appeared in the wall, leading to the Room of Requirement. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand again and they both bent down double in order to squeeze under the top of the doorway.
Inside the room was much different than what Harry was used to seeing. The walls were thickly padded and a crisscross pattern of intricately woven electric blue lines coated every square inch of the room. Harry figured it to be a silencing charm of some sort. The room was tiny and the ceiling low. Candles floated all throughout the air around them, producing the only light in the room. Two low chairs set directly across from one another in the very center of the room. The top of Harry's head scratched the surface of the ceiling when he stood fully upright.
Hermione maintained her attentive silence even after they sat down. Her eyes never left his face as minutes passed by while Harry's mind and heart battled each other over what he meant to do.
Finally he found the words he had been searching for and began. He forced himself to meet her eyes as he spoke.
"Hermione, you were right. I have been keeping something from you. I've been afraid how you and Ron would react; I didn't want you treating me any differently."
"Why would we treat you any differently?" Hermione asked.
"Because- because, oh I don't know- because it's so horrible."
"What is, Harry?"
Harry inhaled deeply. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…."
For the first time since Harry had known her, Hermione was completely speechless. Her entire form seemed frozen in a position of utter bewilderment, mouth open slightly and owl eyed.
"When the Prophecy about me smashed, we thought it had been lost forever," Harry continued painfully, "But it hadn't. Someone heard it. Dumbledore did. Professor Trelawney delivered it to him not long before my birth. He told it to me when we returned from the Department of Mysteries. Do you see? All along you've realized there was something special about my relationship with Voldemort, apart from the obvious. Well, you were right. I'm the only one who can kill him. It's up to me." Tears were now flowing freely from Hermione's chocolate eyes. "See why I didn't tell you?" Harry whispered. "I didn't want to burden you with it. You shouldn't feel burdened with it. It's my burden, Hermione, and mine alone. Oh, don't cry, please don't cry." She had broken into muffled sobs, her entire chest shaking and heaving. Before he knew it, Hermione flew from her seat and flung her arms around his neck.
"Oh Harry," she sobbed into his back. "It'll be okay. You'll defeat V-Voldemort, I'm sure of it!"
At this he wrapped his arms around her. "Hermione, I don't want to be a murderer. I don't know how I'm going to do it… I'm not a killer."
"I know you're not, Harry. I know," she said firmly. "No one's going to hold that against you. You're our hero. You have been in the past and you will be ultimately. I just know it. You're going to defeat Voldemort and everything will be the way it was meant to be."
Harry smiled gratefully and sat back up again, lifting her arms off his shoulders.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Try to understand. I just hadn't come to terms with it yet myself, you know? With that and Sirius, everything was so overwhelming I just kind of pushed all into the back of my mind and tried not to face it. But then I began feeling guilty that I wasn't telling you and--" He gave a short laugh. "I can't keep anything from you." She smiled at him briefly and then wiped the tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands. "Will you forgive me?" asked Harry.
"Harry, there's nothing to forgive. I understand. Just know that I'm always here for you, okay? And you're right," she smiled again, "you can't keep anything from me. So next time, don't even try. Just tell me."
"Okay," Harry said, returning the smile. She climbed off his seat and he stood up beside her. "Oh, can you do me a favor?" Harry asked.
"Anything."
"Please don't tell Ron. I'm not ready to tell him yet."
Hermione looked slightly hesitant for a moment but then said, "Sure. I promise I won't tell him. But you're going to have to tell him sooner or later, you know."
"I know. Only not yet."
Hermione nodded her head once. "Understood. Now," she continued, seizing his hand. "Let's hit the books. We have a lot of learning ahead of us in order to properly arm you, and for what it's worth, I'm going to help you every step of the way."
* * *
"Oi! Harry!" Harry turned on the steps the same way he had turned to meet Hermione three days earlier. This time it was Ron. Ron grinned at him as he approached. "I take it you're heading to the library, as usual?" Ron teased.
"You know you reading a book wouldn't kill you," Harry returned.
"Yeah, well, you've probably got a point there. So is that where you're heading?"
"Actually, no. I'm off to the Common Room."
"Really? That's terrific! So do you have time to play a game or two of wizards' chess this evening then, if your studies are all done?"
"No, I don't," Harry groaned. "I'm heading to the Common Room because Hermione already brought the books we need there."
"Oh," Ron said, looking significantly downtrodden. He raised a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it. "I never get to do anything with you anymore, mate. I mean, since we've returned the most we've done is gone out flying once. I can barely drag your nose out of your books long enough to tell you about my new play ideas- ones you asked me for, by the way. Quidditch try-outs are tomorrow! You haven't even organized it yet!"
"I have too," Harry retorted grumpily. "In case you hadn't cared to notice, there's a sign-up sheet alongside a flyer on the Gryffindor bulletin board. People know when it's happening, Ron. It's not like I have to run up to each of them individually and make sure they've remembered to practice! Besides, all we need to audition for are two Chasers."
"I know, it's just-"
"It's just what, Ron? You have to realize that this year's going to be different from the last ones. I've got a lot of lost time to make up for in my studies."
Ron sighed and let his arm fall back to his side.
"I know. Look, I have to grab a book from the library for Binns. D'you have a few minutes you can spare, or will you implode from the effort of not studying something for ten minutes?"
Harry glared at him and then realized he was taking Ron's teasing too seriously and laughed. After all, Ron didn't really understand why Harry needed to study yet, and they always teased Hermione about her studies before; this was no different.
"Sure, I'll come."
"Good," Ron said as they continued up the stairs together. "So, exactly what are the lessons like? I know I wouldn't want to be trapped in a room with Snape alone… nor McGonagall, for that matter…or really any of the professors, except Hagrid."
"It's actually not as bad as I thought it would be," said Harry truthfully as they turned toward the library. "Well, Snape's still Snape, of course, so that isn't exactly pleasant… but with the rest of them it's really no problem at all. It's easier for them to see if I'm doing things right or not, to help me fix things."
"Since when is them knowing everything you do wrong a good thing? Blimey, you've been spending too much time with Hermione. She's already going to your head."
They strolled across the library through beams of dusty light streaming from the upper windows. To Harry's surprise and confusion, they didn't turn off to either side as he would have expected, but instead headed straight for the back of the library. They stopped in front of the iron barred door to the Restricted Section and Ron withdrew a tiny bronze key from within his robes. He inserted it in the keyhole and swung the door open.
"Since when did you have a key to the Restricted Section?" Harry asked. "Since when is there even a keyhole?"
"Since the beginning of this year. Apparently Filch grew rather tired of having students sneaking in at night--" he cast Harry a meaningful glance along with a smirk-"so he installed a lock over the summer. Sixth and seventh year Prefects are each given their own key."
"Wonderful," Harry said under his breath. Now there was no way to sneak down under his invisibility cloak at night.
"Bloody History of Magic," Ron commented as they walked straight down the middle aisle between the shelves. "I'm telling you, it's even worse than before! I mean, a paper on the history of Dark Curses goblins used in the rebellions of 1540 in contrast to the spells they used in the 1730 rebellion? Who cares?"
They halted in front of one of the towering shelves and began searching for the book Ron needed: "A History of Rebellions- Goblin Revolts Circa 1400-1800 A.D." Thinking about goblins struck a nerve in Harry.
"Ron," he said with some trepidation, "You don't s'pose the goblins will side with Voldemort, do you?"
Ron continued his quest to find the book, obviously not as concerned with the notion as Harry. "I don't know- I'm not a goblin. Good thing too- I hear they eat bugs." He made a revolted face. "Although it would be nice to have free access to that much money," he added as an afterthought. Harry felt the pang of guilt that always accompanied the blatant remembrance of how poor the Weasleys were. "Aha! Here it is…." Ron withdrew a heavy black-leathered volume from the shelf. He opened it and Harry moved closer, looking over his shoulder.
"See right here?" Ron pointed at a black and white moving picture. The occupants of the photo, which in fact were a large number of goblins, were moving around in a frenzied state. The towering edifice behind them was shaking and swaying while the goblins fought with ropes and hands to keep the structure standing. "That's why Gringotts is so crooked," Ron said with a hint of amusement. "There was some sort of earthquake caused by giant mating rituals in a forest in the north. It almost shook the entire building down." He began flipping the pages, glimpsing each page in search of another interesting photo. Around the middle of the book, Ron's fingers suddenly back-tracked and flipped to a page they had passed. "Hold on! Would you look at that?"
Harry examined the picture in awe. It depicted a spacious, cavernous space filled with stalactites and stalagmites hanging from the ceiling and protruding from the floor. There were magical fires bobbing in the air, suspended by invisible means. The limestone walls that framed the room had wide jagged arched openings placed randomly throughout, leading to narrower tunnels. Unlike in the last picture, there was no movement spare the trickling of some water off the stalactites and the flickering of the fires. Harry had never seen anything like it before.
Ron read aloud the short caption underneath the picture. "Here exists Halizize, one of the greatest natural features on earth- or rather under. The Halizize cavern is located many miles under Gringotts bank, and it is reportedly as far as the banks' carts will go. I knew that Gringotts went far underground, but I didn't know that cavern was there."
Something in the picture caught Harry's eye. "Look here," he said, pointing at the upper left corner of the picture. "Did you see that bit of movement?"
Ron shook his head and squinted his eyes. "No, I didn't see anything."
"There it is again!" Harry exclaimed, thrusting his finger toward it again.
"Oh yeah, I see it now," Ron said in a hushed voice. "What is it?"
"I don't know…." Harry and Ron both leaned in closer, struggling to determine why the vast dark space in one of the stone archways was apparently moving.
"Hello Ronald."
Harry and Ron jumped and twisted around, hearts racing. Luna Lovegood was standing behind them, hands clasped together behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels innocently.
"Bloody hell, Luna!" Ron cried. "What'd you do that for?"
"Do what for?"
"Sneak up on us like that! You nearly scared us out of our wits!"
"I didn't sneak up on anyone. I was only saying hello."
Ron frowned at her and picked up the book he had dropped. "What are you doing in here anyway?"
She shrugged her shoulders, still rocking on her heels. "I dunno. The gate was open."
"Yes, because I unlocked it to get a book I need. If you don't have permission from a teacher, you aren't allowed back in here."
Luna fell back down onto the flats of her feet and began wandering down the row, running her hand along the dusty volumes' spines. Harry and Ron followed after her. She spoke, though she never turned to face them.
"There was another muggle attack, did you hear?"
"What? No, we didn't hear. When was it?" asked Harry.
"Just last night, in Leeds. The Death Eaters killed an entire wizarding family known to be Dumbledore's supporters and then continued into a pub down the lane where they killed 7 unsuspecting muggles, then blew up the place."
"So then the muggles don't know there was any magic involved?" Harry asked.
"Nope. They just think that there was a gas leak that led to the explosion. Apparently they took the remains of the Dark Mark that were still hovering overhead to be gaseous fumes. The skull had already begun to dissolve, but there were a lot of reports of people claiming they saw a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth in the smoke.
"And the one at the house had already dissolved too. Wizards from the ministry arrived there before the muggle police and placed traces of carbon monoxide throughout the air in the house, so that's what they think killed them."
They had wound back through the shelves to the gates. Ron turned, locked the gate, and placed the key back in his pocket.
"Well, I'm off to re-fill my quills," Luna announced suddenly. "Goodbye Harry, Ronald." She nodded her head at Ron with a faint smile and he waved back awkwardly.
"That is the oddest girl I've ever met," Ron commented as he watched her round the corner. "C'mon, let's check this book out and head back to the Common Room."
Back up in their dormitory that evening, Ron pulled a sweater over his head.
"I'm going to head down to the Quidditch Pitch. Care to toss a ball around for a bit?" he asked Harry as his head reemerged.
Harry almost said `yes' when his thoughts traveled to the Scrying Glass he had neglected to tinker with yet; he had been thinking about it all week. "Not this time, Ron," Harry replied in a regretful tone from his bed. "I'm kinda tired and I've got some reading left to do."
Ron grabbed his broom and then turned to Harry, one eyebrow cocked. "Are you feeling alright? It's not like you to turn down Quidditch."
Harry nodded reassuringly. "I'm fine. I just really need to finish this assignment is all." He smiled at the end for good measure.
"If you say so," Ron said, leaving the room. "I'll see you later, mate."
"Bye," Harry said as Ron closed the door. Harry puffed out his cheeks and blew out all the air. He didn't like lying to Ron, but he wasn't about to tell him about the Scrying Glass either. Harry flipped himself onto his stomach, bent his head down over his trunk and dug around for the tiny bundle that held the glass. When he found it, he scooped it up gingerly in his hands and sat back up again. Just as he was unwinding an old shirt of Dudley's from it, he heard footsteps outside the door. As quickly as he could, he dove for his pillows and stashed the glass under it, then grabbed his book from his nightstand and jerked it open to a random page. At that very second the door opened and Ron wandered in.
"I forgot my hat," he explained as he crossed the room to his bed. He yanked the maroon and brown striped stocking cap onto his head. "I guess you weren't kidding when you said you were tired," he commented, glancing at Harry.
"Huh?"
"Your book's upside down."
"Oh, right," Harry hastily turned it over, blushing.
Ron chuckled to himself as he left the room again. As soon as Harry heard his steps fade away he sighed and tossed the book down on the floor. He then reached behind his pillows and finished unwinding the shirt from the Scrying Glass. Sitting propped up against the headboard, Harry twirled the dark glass disc in his hands, looking for some clue as to how to activate it. There weren't any marks along the solid gold edge except nicks and scratches it obtained over the years. Harry picked his wand off his nightstand and tapped the glass.
"Reveal your true self," he commanded as he tapped it. Nothing happened. "Er, show me the Other Plane! Demon, take heed my command! Abra Kadabra?" The glass remained black and motionless. Harry tossed the thing on the bed beside him in frustration. He was never going to figure out how to work it; he would never talk to Sirius again. This thought brought a heap of despair onto Harry's chest. This had been his last chance, after the mirror hadn't worked and he had learned Sirius would never be a ghost. Growing angry at his foolishness at getting his hopes up again, he grabbed the Scrying Glass firmly in his hands and yelled directly into the surface, "I want to see Sirius Black!"
As soon as he spoke the last word, the dark glass swirled rapidly and transformed into a view of a dreary grey landscape. Harry almost dropped it in shock. A sense of euphoria and hope returned as he peered into it, trying to determine what it was he was seeing. There was no color to speak of, spare shades of solemn grey. It appeared to be a never-ending plain of some sort, with flat light-grey ground and a few dark-grey, dead bushes dotting the sparse landscape. Harry's view was a bird-eyed one, and now the ground drew closer and closer, and as it did so, more details surfaced. What Harry had taken to be the ground was in fact a sea of drifting figures.
"What the…" he said softly to himself.
The view changed from an overhead view to one of someone walking on the ground among the figures. And it was then that Harry discovered what the light-grey figures were. People, or rather semi-transparent ghosts of people, drifted all around him in various directions with the same stoic, solemn look on their faces. It appeared as if they were numb to their surroundings, to everything. They certainly took no notice of Harry's presence, which led him to think that however the demon trapped inside the Scrying Glass was showing him the scene, it was doing so by invisible means. Yet again, the ghosts here were looking straight ahead anyway. Harry felt involuntary chills run down his spine at all of their dreary expressions and sluggish movements as they each floated in and out of view.
Harry's view propelled him forward through the crowd at a leisurely pace. One thing he noticed as he watched the people pass by was that whenever a spindly bush blocked their path, they floated around it or over it, rather than directly through it. Similarly, they never passed through each other, but slightly diverted their paths enough to avoid a collision. Harry couldn't figure why ghosts would do that, which soon led him to think that perhaps these weren't ghosts, but rather spirits of some kind, neither solid nor permeable.
Another thing Harry noticed was the variation in the spirits' appearances. Some were wearing hats; some had long hair, others short; some were women, some were men; some were merely young children while more were adults or elders. Harry found himself wondering how they had all ended up here, and where `here' was.
Suddenly whatever was allowing him his view stopped again. Spirits of the deceased continued floating by on either side of him, but Harry took no notice, as the figure in front of him captured his complete attention. He felt a stirring in his heart, both happy and sad as he observed the person drifting directly toward him with unblinking eyes. He had long, dark hair and dark robes as well. His shoulders were slightly hunched and there was a hint of something about his countenance that the other spirits Harry had observed didn't have, a sort of anguish in his eyes that gave them life. Harry could hardly believe what he was seeing. All he wanted to do was dive into the glass and run to the man who faced him as if his life depended on it.
"Sirius?" he said in a voice filled with hushed awe.
What happened next shocked Harry almost out of his mind. Ever so slowly, the spirit of Sirius lifted his chin and gazed directly at Harry. His eyes lit up like a spark and his mouth slowly opened. He stopped drifting forward and hovered in place. Harry looked on longingly, gripping the glass in his hands so tightly his knuckles were turning white.
"Harry?" Sirius said, clearly amazed himself. His voice was so feeble Harry could hardly hear it. "Is that really you?"
Harry almost cried out with joy. Sirius could hear him! He could see him! The Scrying Glass worked both ways.
"Sirius! Yes, it's me!" Harry fought to keep his voice under control; he didn't want anyone hearing him and coming in.
"Oh my God, it is you! I-I don't know what to say! What is this thing?" He motioned in front of himself at something Harry couldn't see.
"I'm not sure what you see, but I'm using a Scrying Glass. I found it in the Room of Requirement."
"A Scrying Glass, huh? I've heard of those, very rare. Only a handful left." He shook his head briskly. "But that's not important. How are you?"
"I'm fine," Harry replied. "I miss you," he added.
Sirius looked back at him sadly, his expression readopting the one of sorrow he had worn a short while earlier. "I know, I miss you too. I'm so sorry. I was so foolish, not taking the fight with Bella seriously enough. I could have prevented it."
"You shouldn't have come at all, but please don't apologize. I could never be mad at you for coming to my rescue. It's Dumbledore I'm mad at."
Sirius' voice grew stern as his brows knitted together. "Why's that?"
"Well, it's his fault, isn't it! The way he kept you under house arrest for so long, it was enough to drive anyone stir crazy. Maybe you wouldn't have come if you hadn't been so desperate to get out-"
"That's not the case and you know it! You can't blame Dumbledore; he was right in what he did, telling me to stay indoors. Who knows what would have happened otherwise. And it didn't matter how stir-crazy I was, that's certainly not the reason I came with the others. I came because I knew you were in trouble. That's the only reason."
"Kreacher lied," Harry choked through gritted teeth.
"I figured as much," Sirius said. "I hope Dumbledore gave the little beast what he deserved."
Harry nodded. "He's dead; his head's on the wall with the rest of them."
"That's a generous fate in my opinion. Of course, Dumbledore was never one for torture."
Harry laughed shortly. "So what is that place? Where are you?"
"Some sort of purgatory," Sirius responded. "Some of these people have been here for a hundred years, bidding their time. That's what we're all doing here. It's like a world between the worlds."
"Does it hurt, being there?"
"Nah, not really. Although it could be a tad bit less drab, couldn't it?" he commented, looking around himself.
Harry laughed again. "Yeah, it could a bit."
"Listen Harry, we hear things here, news from your world. Every time a newbie shows up whispers are passed round until everyone knows the latest happenings. I've heard all about the breakout at Azkaban and the Dementors shifting sides. But news isn't the only thing we hear. People here know things; don't ask me how they do." He glanced around suspiciously, as if he suspected those around him to be eavesdropping. "And from what I hear, Voldemort is plotting something involving you. I don't know what it is, but be on the look-out. Practice your Occlumency. I take it you are still taking lessons?"
"Yeah, with Dumbledore."
"Good. He'll do a much better job."
"There's something I have to tell you, Sirius. There was a Prophecy made about me…." Harry related the entire thing to Sirius, who listened attentively.
When he finished, Sirius said passionately, "I'm sure you'll defeat him. I'll keep you updated on anything I hear that may help. And don't let your virtue get in the way when the time comes that you have the chance to kill him. Don't let anything stand in the way, okay? You were meant to do this, it's your destiny. He's evil and he must be killed."
"I understand," Harry said bleakly.
"No you don't," Sirius replied. "And you won't for a while, but you will eventually. When the time comes you will."
Something that had been gnawing away at the back of Harry's mind the entire conversation pushed through now. "Have you seen my mum or dad there?"
Sirius frowned. "No, I haven't. Of course, this place is so big it's no wonder we haven't run into each other. For all I know, they could be in the Beyond by now." Sirius was silent a moment and then spoke again. "I hope you took me up on the offer of Grimmauld Place. I know you need a place to stay once you graduate and seeing as I was going to offer you to stay with me anyway…well, I figured it was the least I could do."
Harry opened his mouth to reply just as he heard voices right outside the door. He jerked his head up at it and then quickly back down to Sirius again. "I have to go! Someone's coming!" He didn't even wait for Sirius to say goodbye, he willed the image to disappear and the Scrying Glass followed his whispered plea, transforming in a rush of grey back into the same solid back block of glass it was originally. Harry shoved it underneath his pillow just as the door opened. He twisted back around to face them, but they didn't notice his odd behavior at all.
"Should've seen Parvati's face when she heard what Lavender had done," Seamus said to Neville and Dean as they each walked over to their separate beds. "She grew all red and then dashed off to the loo, I s'pect."
"Hello, Harry," Neville said as he pulled his pajamas out of his trunk.
"So Parvati and Lavender have had a row then?" Harry asked them with feigned interest, when he was actually rather annoyed at their interruption.
"Yep," Dean said, clearly amused at the situation. "All over that bloke Thomas from Hufflepuff as well- Seventh Year. Don't ask me why they're bothering to fight over him in the first place."
"Maybe because he's older and he's a Quidditch player," Seamus commented, "Which is more than I can say about you, by the way."
"Well I'm the one who's got a girlfriend, aren't I? So look what Quidditch and a year got him- nothing but two blubbering girls who are going to both dump him in the end as part of their little make-up treaty anyway."
"Which reminds me, how are things going with you and Ginny?" Harry asked. He swore he saw Neville stiffen up out of the corner of his eye as he said it.
"Pretty good. She's got a fire to her, that's for sure. She's going out for Chaser tomorrow, now that you're back as Seeker. Reckon you'll give it to her?"
Harry shrugged. "I dunno. It all depends on how she plays compared to everyone else. I can't be biased."
"Aw, c'mon, Harry! If she doesn't make Chaser, I'm going to have to deal with her fits and crying for a month! Don't do that to me!"
Harry and Seamus laughed. "I'm pretty sure she'll get it anyway, Dean," Harry assured. "She's really good."
"How's studying going for you, Harry? We never see you around anymore, unless you're snuggled in some corner with Hermione reading a book," Seamus said, a teasing smirk playing across his lips.
Harry fought back the color that was rising in his cheeks. "It's going well. The studying I mean, not anything with Hermione, because there's nothing going on between me and Hermione. And by studying I mean actually studying, as in studying for class," Harry stumbled over his words.
"A little defensive, are we Harry?" Dean teased.
"No! I just don't want you to get the wrong idea is all, because Hermione and I are just best friends."
"Well, we'll just see how long the "just friends" thing lasts," said Seamus. "You're spending so much time with her I'm sure something will happen, if it hasn't already started."
"Plus, just because you insist you're just friends, that doesn't mean you don't harbor a secret wish to be more than just friends," Neville joined in, a distant expression on his face. "It doesn't mean that it can't evolve into more, that she won't eventually take notice of you and realize how you've secretly admired her for so long."
Harry, Seamus, and Dean all stared at him. Neville seemed to come to his senses as he looked back at them, blushed deeply, crawled onto his bed, and yanked the curtains closed with a mumbled, "Goodnight."
Dean raised an eyebrow at Harry while Seamus had to shove his fist in mouth to stifle his laughter. Harry strongly suspected the girl Neville was referring to was Ginny so he chose not to pursue the subject more with Dean there, and announced he was ready for bed too. After he closed the hangings around himself, Harry carefully wrapped the old shirt back around the Scrying Glass and tucked it inside the pillow case of his bottom pillow until he had time to stow it back in his trunk. He heard Ron return and draw his bed curtains closed many minutes later, as he finally drifted off to sleep, a content smile on his face as thoughts of seeing Sirius danced across his mind.
A/N: Thanks again for your patience between chapters and for reading. I hope you liked it.
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