Chapter 6: Rooming at the Cauldron
Back at the Cauldron, all three gathered in Harry and Ron's room to talk more and ended up playing exploding snap and at least three games of wizard chess (Ron won against both) before they were ready for bed.
It was getting late in the evening, and Hermione retreated to her room, leaving Harry and Ron to shower before bed. Ron grabbed his pajamas and headed toward the bathroom, but stopped at a word from Harry.
"Uh mate, mind if I have a go first?"
Ron quirked a questioning eyebrow. "Sure, why?… Oh… nevermind. Go ahead." He ended with a smirk.
Harry stood hesitantly and shot Ron a guarded look. "What…"
"Still haven't had a proper snog session, aye?" replied Ron with a sarcastic grin.
Harry instantly reddened despite himself. "It's not…Well I just…"
"Right mate. Stop trying to explain…Go ahead."
Harry set his jaw and grabbed up some clean clothes, passing Ron without a glance. Ron laughed out loud.
Harry went to shut the bathroom door rather loudly but then thought better of it and poked his face out a crack. "Don't know what you're going on about mate…Heard things from Hermione over the summer about you and Lavender…"
Ron shot up from his seat on the bed. "WHAT? I told her to keep that secret! It's not like anything's official yet!"
Harry smirked and slammed the door shut. "What…secrets from me!?"
Ron walked over to the door and spoke through it. "Hermione wasn't even supposed to know! She happened on Lav and I in the common room one night…Wasn't anything serious, we were just talking. That's why I didn't want to mention it yet."
"Just talking huh?" said Harry lightly, "That's not what I heard." He then quickly turned on the water to drown out Ron's reply, muffling the irritated response. He laughed lightly to himself and stepped into the shower.
After a few minutes he was out, and dressed in regular clothes rather than pajamas, much to Ron's amusement.
"All yours mate," said Harry, ruffling the excess water out of his hair.
"Right," Ron smirked as he walked past him towards the bathroom, "See you in the morning."
Harry shot him a dirty glance. "Ron, I won't be gone that long."
Ron gave him a droll look before shutting the bathroom door behind him. "Mmhmm. Just don't make too much noise…I'm a light sleeper."
"Ron!" Harry complained loudly, but Ron drowned out Harry's reply in much the same way Harry had and turned on the shower full force. Harry gave a loud rap on the door and heard Ron bark out a laugh. Harry scowled. "Anyway, you sleep like the damn dead! Light sleeper my ass!"
***********************************
Hermione sat up against the wall on her bed, reading a schoolbook by the light of the small lamp by her bed when she heard a light rap on the door.
She smiled without looking up, knowing who it was and called out softly.
"Come in."
Harry poked his tousled head in with a huge grin and Hermione matched the expression, tossing the book down and jogging across the room to him; both enveloping each other in a warm hug.
As Harry kicked the door closed, Hermione noticed the damp hair lying in messy clumps all over his head and the half-opened button down shirt he had quickly thrown on, exposing a well sculpted, damp chest. She felt her pulse quicken as he finally let her go.
She spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Miss me much?"
"You know I did," he smiled down at her.
Hermione gave him her best seductive smile. "Show me."
He took in her slim, tanned form in the lavender pajamas he had given her last year, her long, curly taffy-colored hair falling slightly more down one side of her face than the other, brushing her smooth cheeks, which were burning a fetching warm pink. The intense gaze she was giving him, her brown eyes flecked with gold, staring intently into his, made his heart begin to beat a steady rhythm of desire.
Quickly he grabbed her, pushing her gently against the wall, and captured her lips with his own, feeling her gently return the pressure. Their bodies were barely touching, but where they met felt curiously more alive. Hermione felt like every inch of her skin was on fire. Excitement coursed through her veins and her pulse seemed to beat an erratic rhythm…one that made her breathing change and her mind cloud with dizziness.
After both of their arms had encircled each other, he grabbed her up in his arms (which both of them laughed at), and walked over to her bed, tossing her lightly onto it and crawling up beside her, straddling her on all fours. They smiled at each other.
"I hope you don't mind if I snog you senseless." Harry smiled at her, but his eyes burned with an intensity that told Hermione his mood was fare removed from playful.
She smiled back, but returned the hot gaze. "You have to ask?"
That was enough for Harry. He lay on top of her, being careful to transfer most of his weight onto his elbows, and placed his hands on either side of her face, letting his fingers tangle in her soft hair.
She pulled him down into a soft kiss that soon turned into a ferociously passionate one. A kiss that both were using to crush away the summer months without each other, a kiss filled with children's playfulness, friendship turned much deeper, youngsters filled with rough passion and a sense of immortality, and beyond all that, a love that transcends experience, that needs no more time to mature, that had matured with hardship, friendship, and loyalty; even a kiss that tried to erase all the time spent trying to remain just friends.
Hermione's body was on fire with a desire she didn't even know existed. She loved how Harry made her feel; (o god, how did he DO that?). His hands were so slow and warm, almost reverent. Each touch, each caress left a trail of fire on her skin.
She could tell, very easily, that he was just as turned on as she, and that both were beginning to lose their resolve.
Her will power was ebbing, slipping away with every touch. She'd never wanted anything so much in her whole young life as she wanted Harry to stay, and to keep on kissing her and touching her the way he was, so gently, so passionately, and to her surprise, so knowledgeably. She knew he hadn't been with any other girls this way. Was it possible that some things just came naturally?
Harry's mouth caught an area of Hermione's neck that sent pleasure shooting down her body in a sudden wave of tingles. Maybe, she thought heatedly as she pulled his face up to make contact with hers once more.
It wasn't long before Harry was rid of his shirt and had almost rid Hermione of hers. Both knew they were nearing the end of how far they could go, and Harry reluctantly pulled away, lying on his back, one arm under and around Hermione.
He finally spoke, although in a whisper, and Hermione wasn't sure she was supposed to have heard.
"Someday…soon."
It was a mutual pact between them that each wanted to wait until they were married, not that the decision came easily.
To Hermione, it went beyond respect. It meant being loved so much that her partner was willing to commit to her and wait for her. She had known too many girls that had had their hearts torn apart, and she wasn't about to let that happen to her. Though she knew Harry by heart, and knew he'd never hurt her like that, they'd both decided together to wait.
Harry had nothing but love and admiration for her that always kept him, and them, from doing something in the heat of the moment that both would regret. Hermione was too special for that, but he also had other reasons for waiting. If, God forbid, Voldemort were finally able to kill him, he wanted Hermione to be able to move on, no regrets. He didn't want her bonded to him in that way if it wasn't to be…he wanted her to be happy, and free to live the life she deserved, with someone else. God it hurt to think that way…
Harry pulled her close, aware that his body was still reacting to her, but reveling in her closeness all the same. He heard her sigh a little in contentment, and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"I've sure missed this," he said huskily.
Hermione grinned a little wickedly and threw an arm about his waist, pulling him closer. "What…snogging?"
Harry smiled crookedly. "No…Snogging you. The others just aren't as exciting."
Hermione's jaw dropped open and she raised enough to give Harry a look of feigned shock, giving him a swift punch in the shoulder as well. "Harry James Potter! You are an absolute grotty twit, you know that!?"
"Grotty is a bit harsh…" mused Harry thoughtfully.
Hermione raised up further and slapped Harry on his bare chest, making him laugh out loud in the high-cracked way he usually did when he was barely controlling an absolute fit of laughter. Adorable…but she wouldn't give in, even though her façade did crack a little.
"Take it back or I'll never speak to you again."
"Never is a long time, 'Mione," he turned his head to look up at her with half-lidded eyes.
Hermione smiled cockily, folding her arms across her chest. "I'll never snog you again."
Instantly Harry shot up to his knees and bowed his head to her lap. "Oh please forgive me! I'm such a fool! I'll never joke like that again!"
Hermione sat still for a few moments, pretending to think about it and finally relented, relaxing her posture and tapping Harry on the back of his head. "Well…ok. But only because I adore the way you look when you're worshipping me."
Harry grinned and sat up, pulling her down on top of him as he lay on the bed once again. "Can't help it." He raised a hand to gently stroke her cheek and smiled when she flushed from that simple touch. "You've ruined it, you know. There'll never be anyone else for me. No one else could ever measure up."
Hermione leaned down to touch noses with him and smiled lovingly. "You are a charming git, aren't you?"
Harry shrugged and rolled her over and under him, quickly eliciting a surprised squeal from her.
"I try."
Hermione laughed at that, and both began kissing once again, oblivious to the time, and even to the rest of the world.
* *
* *
* *
The sun rose too early the next morning for Ron and he awoke with a beam of it rudely turning the inside of his eyelids from black to bright red.
He rolled over in his bed and groaned, throwing an arm over his face.
"Blast those enchanted drapes," he croaked out groggily.
At precisely the stroke of seven a.m., the drapes had begun to glide open. The brighter the sun, the more parted they became, until the sunlight beamed directly in the occupant's face. Much more effective than any Muggle alarm clock. The hotel guest could choose to have them open at a different time or counter charmed to not open at all, but Ron had forgotten, and was now left with the consequences.
He groaned again as the curtains drew completely open, the relentless sunlight prying at his eyelids.
"Ok, I'm up!" Ron yelled in aggravation to the drapes as he sat bolt upright in his bed. "It's absobloodylutely morning isn't it, there!? Thanks for that!"
The drapes simply fluttered in response. Ron turned sleep-clouded eyes across the room in the direction of Harry's bed and ran a hand roughly over his face.
"Harry, get up."
No response.
Ron blinked a few times and tried again. "Get up mate…"
Still there was no answer. He squinted and raised a shading hand to his eyes. Harry's unrumpled, clearly undisturbed bed stared guiltily back from the far opposite corner of the room.
Ron dropped his arm in surprise and chuckled, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and making his way over to the mirror to survey his form.
"Well I'll be buggered…" he grinned to himself.
"I'll say you will," replied the mirror bluntly, "You should do something about that hair, I think."
Ron frowned and moved away from it, towards his trunk. "Shove off."
At least the mirror was nicer about his hair than Harry's. The "Give it up, dear," Harry always received never failed to lighten Ron's spirits.
He grabbed up some clean, comfortable clothes and thought rather brassly to himself that he might decide to pay Harry and Hermione an early visit before they could explain Harry's absence away.
He smiled rather evilly to himself and began throwing on his clothes, chuckling to himself.
As it turned out, he needn't have tried anything. He went to the door and banged loudly on it with the intention of scaring them to pieces, but got no answer.
After using the Alohamora spell and cracking the door open a bit, he saw that there was no one there to scare. They must have already headed down to breakfast.
Ah hell, thought a disappointed Ron, Couldn't a lad give a decent scare now and then?
He shut the door and headed downstairs where he saw Harry and Hermione, seated at a table in the corner eating a hearty breakfast, sipping on tea, and sharing the Daily Prophet, obviously lost in each other's company.
Ron joined them with a loud huff and slid out his chair, plopping down rather grumpily.
Harry glanced at him over the rim of his cup.
Hermione looked at him oddly and frowned. "What's with you, then?"
Ron snorted and turned a peeved gaze towards Hermione. "Thanks for the wake-up call. I'm so glad to know you two didn't want to eat breakfast without your 'best friend'."
Harry set down his teacup and gave his friend a sardonic glance. "Ron, we couldn't wake you! Guess you don't remember 'Mione and I shaking the sodding hell out of you earlier."
"Yeah right, mate. That's a load of bosh." Ron waved to the waitress and then turned back to Harry.
Potter shook his head and laid down the copy of the Daily Prophet he'd been reading. "It's true. I wasn't lying when I said you slept like the dead." Then he smirked. "Seemed to be having some pretty smashing dreams too."
Hermione smiled and looked down at her plate. Ron's gaze shot up to both of them, and while he tried to look nonchalant, he came across as a bit nervous. "Th…that's not…Bullocks, mate…"
Harry grinned and then squeezed his eyes shut, affecting a look of sleepy concentration and smiling stupidly. "That's right Lav…you know what I like…C'mon baby…"
Ron's face flushed as red as his hair. "I never did!"
Harry smiled maliciously and resumed drinking his tea. "Hermione was there. If you don't believe me, ask her."
Ron turned a dark gaze Hermione's way and she glanced up at him quickly, stifling a laugh. She turned back to her food, concentrating extra hard on the biscuit she was buttering, and accidentally let a hearty snort slip out.
"Not very lady-like," quipped a displeased Ron.
"Neither is what Lavender was obviously doing to you," she shot back.
Harry, who had opened the Daily Prophet in front of his face, now shook with laughter and gripped it tightly, the paper trembling with him.
Ron huffed in annoyance and reaching over, crushed the paper down to the table and glared at Harry.
Harry wiped a tear from his eyes and grinned. "HA!…Oh Ron…You are quality flippin' entertainment, you know that, mate?"
Ron gave them a prickly narrowing of his eyes. "Glad I could help…Here I thought I'd gotten up early to surprise the two of you doing Merlin knows what," (Hermione scowled), "and I find you both down here waiting to give ME grief! You two take all the fun out of a bloke's life, you know it?"
Harry smiled and smoothed out his paper. "You love it."
Hermione patted his arm reassuringly. "It's ok to like Lavender, Ron…You just might want to get your dreams in check before we get to Hogwarts. It wouldn't do to have the whole seventh year boy's dorm knowing what goes on in your head."
Ron opened his mouth to reply, but Harry suddenly cut him off with a decidedly less playful expression. "Nevermind that mate…have a look at this."
He slapped the paper down in front of Ron and folded his arms. "Page four…read it aloud."
Ron opened the paper and stared at the column in front of him with wide eyes.
UNICORN KILLINGS ABOUND
by Lorivan Thatchmire
The continued slaughter of unicorns in the Forbidden Forest near our esteemed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry leave Magical Wildlife rangers and Science Wizards baffled.
According to Harv Hortimire, the head of Magical Wildlife Services in the Ministry of Magic, the killings are "absolutely senseless, a travesty. Why would anyone want to kill a unicorn? Beautiful creatures, they are. Sure the blood has life giving qualities, but as we all know, the blood doesn't necessarily give the desired effect. I mean, who would choose to live such an empty, soulless life?"
Who indeed? But as this reporter has gathered from Gemma Burgleton, a magi-scientist at the Institute for Advanced Wizard Sciences, the perpetrator has to be someone who is on the edge of death itself, someone beyond desperate to survive, even though a half-life is all he might receive.
Since speaking to witches and wizards in the surrounding area of Hogsmeade, the locals have been more than wary, some closing their shops early, or even permanently, as Japes and Gambol joke shop has chosen to do.
Farnswick Japes and Hortence Gambol, owners of the business, have been witnesses along with others to more than the odd scare in their years of business dealings at Hogsmeade.
"It just isn't safe here anymore," says Japes of Hogsmeade, "Ever since this's been coming about there's not been much business. No one's in the mood for a prank when evil's lurking about. We've been steadily losing business over the years because of the resurgence of You-know-who."
Says Gambol, "We just can't make bloody ends meet anymore."
The mention of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has brought about many concerns for the locals who soon began to suspect the dark lord. "Who else would need it so much? Who else would be so vile?" asks a local who wished to remain anonymous, "I'm thinking of closing up shop as well; maybe moving. Too much going on in recent years."
Who else indeed, muses this reporter. Who is behind the killings? Only time will tell. But the rumor that is spreading about the evil lurking within the Forbidden Forest carries with it a heavy blanket of fear that no one can deny.
Ron slapped the paper down with an astonished whistle. "Bloody hell. So that's why Japes and Gambol are closing shop. Fred and George never asked why…They just jumped at the chance to grab it up."
Both Harry and Hermione looked solemnly from each other to Ron.
Harry sighed in heavy frustration, running his fingers through his hair. "It won't do to ignore it any longer. The question is what the bloody hell to do about it? I don't want to wait until Voldemort is able to get his body back, or wait until he strikes again but what choice do we have? I just…I can't kill him."
Ron fixed Harry with a serious gaze. "Can't, or won't mate?"
Harry was jolted abruptly from his thoughts by this and turned a disdainful look on his friend. "Both Ron! The only way to get rid of him is with a friggin' dark curse and I can't use the dark arts unless I want to be bloody taken in by them myself!" Again he clawed a hand through his hair and let it come to rest on the back of his neck, but Hermione grabbed it and held it in reassurance.
Ron sighed and glanced sideways at his friend in frustration. "I know mate, I know…It's just…I have a feeling, you know? Somehow…somehow I feel that we're heading towards something big. An end for all."
"I do too, Ron," said Hermione, a hand on both his and Harry's arms, "Something is coming; I can feel it…I don't think Voldemort will sit idle for much longer."
"I'm sure he won't," said Harry, lifting his head and slumping back against his chair heavily, "The unicorn blood is a necessity for now…until he can come up with some way to get his body back again; and it won't be through me. Dumbledore'll probably have the teachers on triple alert now where I'm concerned; you two as well."
"Us!?" exclaimed Ron, "Why us!?" He waved to the waitress again, and with a nod and a smile, she began heading their way.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Hermione, summoning the teapot over from Harry's side of the table. It hovered over her cup and poured her another, setting back down rather heavily. Hot tea splattered a little over all three of them. Hermione looked chagrinned. "Sorry…a little nervous talking about all this…Ron, after last year and what happened to me, you really have to ask? You're close to Harry too."
"That happened because of Starven, not some portkey like with Diggory!" said Ron, "And after all of the extra security charms Dumbledore had placed over the school after last year, it ought to be harder for Voldemort to sneak into than Azkaban! Not that anyone would want to…"
The waitress had reached their table, and almost dropped her tray in reaction to the last few snatches of conversation she overheard. She tucked it under her arm and glared at the three young customers, finally turning her attention to Ron.
"Something I can get for you then?" she asked shortly in a thick, Cockney accent.
Ron noticed the glare and eyed her curiously, answering slowly. "Ah…yes, I'll just have the breakfast special, and…"
"That all then?" she broke in rudely.
Ron stopped and lowered his eyebrows in puzzlement at the frizzy-haired woman. "Something wrong?"
The waitress pursed her lips and eyed all three of them again before slapping down her tray and leaning between Harry and Hermione. She spoke in an angry whisper. "You'll wanna watch wha' you three youngsters discuss in this establishmen'! It's doin' no one, 'specially me a lot of good what with you three witterin' on about You-Know-'Oo. Everyone's frightened enough about this unicorn business wivvout daft younguns like you talkin' outta your arses, scarin' away customers! Business is off enough as it is!"
All three sat up straight in bewilderment, but Hermione spoke first. "I'm so sorry! We didn't know we were being loud."
"Not loud so much as speakin' abou' him at all," said the waitress, straightening and clutching the tray to her ample chest, "We don' speak his name, young missy!"
Hermione sighed impatiently and repeated the same phrase she had used before. "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."
The waitress narrowed her eyes in aggravation. "Well in case you missed it, lassie, there's already enough fear here to fill all th' vaults in Gringott's! Now no more talk a' this here! Business is already so bloomin' low the boss's thinkin' abou' closin' this place, an' I've got two sprogs to keep fed at home. Don' make me ask you again!" In the same breath she turned to Ron. "Now…what to drink?"
Ron worked his jaw until he was able to form words. "O..orange juice…Please."
She smiled falsely at him. "Spiffin'. It'll be jus' a moment then. An' 'Arry…yours'll be on the house, complimen's of th' owner. He's a big fan a' yours." She gave him what she considered to be a conspiratorial wink and waddled away towards the kitchens.
Ron turned back to his two friends with a raise of his eyebrows and a derisive snort. "Gone 'round the twist, that one has."
Harry shook his head. "No…She's bloody scared though, that's for sure."
Hermione sighed. "She said the owner's thinking about closing this place. I hope Diagon Alley doesn't start losing shops as well!"
Ron nodded, though obviously in thought. "We're a little farther away from the Forbidden Forest than Hogsmeade is though. Scotland to England would be a rather long way to travel, even for Vol…(ahem) him…especially in his condition."
Harry nodded, eyeing the restaurant carefully in an attempt to verify the waitresses' words. It seemed she was right. The Cauldron was unusually quiet for this time of year. Usually it was filled with students, parents, and teachers alike, each taking a break from start of the school year shopping to catch a little bite to eat or drink, or to catch up with neighbors and friends on the latest gossip from the papers or from Rita Skeeter's column.
Even in the streets, the three had noticed an unusual lack of bustle, or at least the wrong kind. Instead of the usual excited hustle, there was an anxious hurrying and a heavy feeling of worry among the crowd. Very few stopped to chat pleasantly, all were in too much of a rush to gather their supplies and retreat back to the safety of their homes. Harry would have been surprised that the turnout for school supplies was so great except for the fact that Dumbledore had included in the start of the school term letters that he and the other teachers had taken every precaution that they could after last year to insure that the school grounds were indeed safe for students to return. Even after all of this though, Harry noticed that the crowd in Diagon Alley was noticeably thinner.
Very few of the Cauldron's tables were occupied either, and the ones that were seemed to be filled with whispers and hushed undertones. The patrons all seemed to be on the edge of their seats, too quiet, and jumpy at every loud sound.
Harry, however, along with Ron and Hermione, failed to notice, or rather didn't pay special attention to the tall stranger in the dark hooded cloak, who had chosen the darkest most out of the way booth in the little eatery area.
He sat quietly, pretending to concentrate on his copy of the Daily Prophet, and sipped his tea, every now and then taking covert glances at the trio of teenagers, obviously deep in conversation at a table across the room. So far, he'd been careful enough to conceal the fact that he'd been following them, and had kept a safe distance behind, taking note of every single thing they did, right down to where they went, what they did, even what they bought.
He was gauging them, sizing them up, waiting for any small grain of new information…especially about Potter; not only for the dark lord, but also for himself. He gritted his teeth as he watched the Potter boy laugh at something one of his idiot friends had just said.
If the dark lord hadn't insisted that he himself be reserved the right to kill Potter, the death eater would have done it himself. He hated Potter for his own reasons. But this time, Voldemort had insisted that the man simply follow all three, not that it had been difficult. They were hardly ever apart; the damn three musketeers.
But it wouldn't do to start raging about them now. His mission was simply to observe; to gather information for his master; and gather he would.
* *
* *
* *