Chapter Nineteen: The Good and The Bad
6:53 p.m., Sunday, March 24th, Limerick, Ireland
"Alright then, five minutes to go!"
Harry sighed in relief. Moody had made them circle the north of Scotland, take some drastic turns over the sea to shake off any people that might be following them, and then made them fly high above the clouds bordering Ireland. He was drenched, rather hungry, and for the first time in his life, tired of riding a broom.
But then, two days of traveling could do that to a person.
Hermione, who sat in a broom Tonks had lent her, had her hands clenched tightly about the handle. Her face white, hair flying behind her, and her robes completely soaked from the rain, she wore a look of mingled fear and annoyance, and refused to meet anyone's eye, even Harry's.
Their trip, so far, hadn't really been that bad. Despite the fact that they had spent the night flying, sustained on coffee and several charms to keep them awake, it had almost been enjoyable. For Harry, anyway. Hermione was having a very miserable time indeed, both from the fact that she didn't have her books to study with and sleep deprivation. Everyone knew by now that it was better to avoid talking to her, as she would probably not reply, or glare at whoever had spoken.
In front of them, Tonks took an enormous dive through the clouds, while Moody kept barking orders from behind them. They followed Tonks, Harry keeping an anxious eye on Hermione, and were glad to see the distant land below them. They sped downwards, anxious to get off their brooms already and have a decent meal…Tonks arguing with Moody that they were not going to double back again…Hermione sighing and gripping her broom even tighter, sparing a half-glance at Harry…Harry attempting to smile encouragingly at her, but managing something more along the lines of a grimace….
And finally, they arrived.
They landed, Hermione jumping off her broom in such a hurry that she tumbled to the ground. She uttered a small, slightly maniacal laugh and leant back, feeling the cold, wet grass on her skin, savoring the fact that they were finally off those horrid brooms.
Harry laughed as he saw her, dismounted his own broom, and hurried over to her, holding his hand out for her to grasp. She tangled his fingers with his, and he pulled her forward, so that she came to a standing position. She smiled at him, for the first time in two days, and Harry felt his stomach do a flip-flop.
"Well, come on, now!" Moody barked from behind them, speaking to the group at large, "We're already late as it is, so there's no time to waste. The house isn't too far now-"
"Err…couldn't we just Apparate there?" asked Harry.
Moody turned his eyes on him, looking slightly annoyed, "I told you; Apparating to a place you've never seen is much harder. You could splinch yourself, or end up somewhere completely different, neither of which we want to happen, right? Good, so let's go…"
Lupin walked over to Harry and Hermione, a benevolent look on his face, "Don't worry, Harry, it's not too far from here. It shouldn't take long."
Harry nodded, and they began to walk. They had landed in a clearing off the south coast of Ireland, presumably to avoid being spotted, and were now headed towards Mr. Dupont's house. From what he'd been told, Harry could assume he didn't live too far from where they were-the man was very antisocial, and tended to prefer living away from the noise and bustle of the city. He was very old-though not older than Dumbledore-and dedicated his days to perfecting more protective amulets, which he refrained from selling nowadays.
Now that they were actually here, Harry felt a strange sense of foreboding he had not yet experienced. It was surreal-they had been traveling for two days, surely that might have been enough time for him to ponder on this, but it only occurred to him now that coming might not have been such a great idea. He couldn't explain why, exactly, but he just felt as if they shouldn't have come; as if something bad was happening and they were too thick to realize it.
Feeling helpless, he stole a glance at Hermione, squeezing her hand tighter in his. It suddenly dawned on him that although her temper had been a telltale sign that she had been having a dreadful time, she hadn't once uttered a word of complaint. She hadn't once spoken to him about how she hated flying, or how she didn't quite like the coffee, or…actually, she hadn't spoken to him throughout the whole trip.
His spirits seemed to plummet as he remembered the terms on which they'd left Hogwarts. They had gone just a bit farther than they meant to, and suddenly everything seemed to have changed between them. They felt uncomfortable around each other, she wouldn't meet his eye, and they just hadn't spoken to each other. This particular fact was the one that made Harry feel lost, as if Hermione had suddenly fallen way beyond his reach, and he couldn't bring her back. He felt as if, in a moment of passion and irrationality, they had done something mortally wrong, though he couldn't place what. He couldn't understand why Hermione was going to such lengths, when she seemed so very willing to let him kiss her and touch her back then. He didn't understand why she was doing this…why she was keeping this unbreakable silence between them, this wall that could never be broken, all because they had gotten carried away for a moment.
What, what did she want from him? What did she want him to do? He couldn't feel sorry for what they did, for, in his eyes, neither he nor her had done anything wrong. They hadn't actually crossed the line. They hadn't…gone a step further.
And more importantly-she had let him. She had been the one to start it all, she had been the one to touch him and let her hands wander to where they shouldn't be, first. She had been the one that brought it all on!
But maybe…maybe that's why she's upset. Does she feel ashamed?
It dawned on him that, being Hermione, that was exactly what was bothering her. She wasn't used to this, was she? He strongly doubted whether she had ever gone farther than kissing with any other bloke.
Being Hermione…she would feel embarrassed that she wanted that…she would feel uncomfortable knowing that her body wanted her to do those things; that her body responded so obviously to his touch. She would feel embarrassed that it was not only her body that felt that way, but she, consciously, wanted it too.
Being Hermione, she was probably dwelling on that to no extent. Being Hermione, she would have probably resolved that not talking to him was the best decision for now.
And him, being Harry, was now determined to show her that she was wrong.
He was disappointed to know, however, that that would have to wait. They were here for the pendant, and however much he wanted to sort out his problems with Hermione, he knew that the pendant was more important for now.
So for now, he contended himself to squeezing Hermione's hand even tighter, and hoping that things would get better between them very, very soon.
***
"Well, those are definitely the most powerful wards I've seen, Mad-Eye," said Lupin, frowning and gazing up at the sky, as if it might give them an answer, "We'll have a hard time getting through."
Tonks looked at the grounds of the castle thoughtfully, "The wards probably extend over the house as well, so flying's out. No use trying to Apparate, either-he'd have thought of that."
"We'll just have to find a way to break it. Unless you fancy tunneling in?"
Harry sighed, squinting at the castle in the distance. Between them and the house stood an enormous lake, a maze, and the wards. It resembled something along the lines of an obstacle course, as if he were measuring his guests' nerve and general worth by their ability to get through his tasks. Or perhaps the obstacles were merely a means to weed out unworthy guests. Whatever the reason was, it did not cease to annoy Hermione further, he noted. She had her arms crossed at her chest, and stood beside Lupin and Tonks, giving out suggestions once in a while, the brisk manner in which she spoke making it obvious that she did not have much patience left.
Harry himself was not feeling very happy about this obstacle course. If that man knew the conditions they'd have to travel in-and just to see him! All the way from Scotland, just to see him about a pendant.
And this was what they got?
Hermione seemed to give up helping after a while. She gave a small sigh and walked away, coming to stand about four feet away from Harry and frowning at the wards. She stood that way for a very long time, her arms crossed at her chest, staring up at an invisible point between the sky and the castle's grounds…the wind blowing at her hair…her eyes narrowed thoughtfully…
"I know what to do."
Her words were quiet, but triumphant. A slow smile spread across her lips, and her eyes were suddenly filled with obvious satisfaction. She looked at Harry fleetingly, that smile lighting up her features, and Harry thought, for a moment, that all was fine, that she would lock her arms around his neck and joyfully explain what she had discovered.
But a second later, she turned away and sprinted over to Moody, Lupin, Tonks, and the rest of their guard, without even glancing back at Harry. He watched her clear her throat, watched as she gestured with her hands at the ward, watched as she explained what she knew…he could only watch, feeling so far away from her, never understanding what in the world had come over her. Why? Why did she hand him this stony silence?
Tonks was nodding emphatically, while Elphias Doge stood by her side, listening intently to Hermione. Moody seemed to be giving her a look of mingled admiration and understanding, while Lupin listened with a small smile on his lips, as if he'd known all along that she would figure it out.
Their voices slowly died, and before he knew what they were even planning on doing, all four of them moved to stand before the ward, pointing their wands at it. They spoke quickly, saying an incantation Harry found vaguely familiar, though he couldn't quite place where he'd heard it, and a rupture suddenly began to form at the ward. A large hole gaped before them, wide and tall enough for even Hagrid to walk through. Lupin turned, beckoning Harry and Hermione towards the hole, and they hastened to walk through.
As soon as they were all inside, the breach in the ward disappeared, leaving no trace that they had done anything to it. Before Harry could even ask what they had done, or what kind of ward that was, they ushered him towards the maze entrance.
Tall, thick hedges-very much like the ones in the Triwizard Tournament maze-casted towering shadows before them. There was but a gap before them, and whatever laid beyond it was completely immersed in darkness. Harry felt Hermione stiffen beside him, and he suddenly felt very apprehensive to go in. It couldn't just be a maze…there had to be creatures inside…creatures that could hurt Hermione…
"Err…can we Apparate now?"
It was not Moody who spoke, but Lupin, "I don't think so…we can try, but I assume, if he has planned this all out so well, that there is an Anti-Apparition Jinx set inside these wards."
Harry didn't bother arguing. He just followed Moody inside the maze, keeping a close eye on Hermione, and wondering what lay ahead.
But, as they ventured inside the maze, and weaved through the dark passages, they found nothing to harm them. They walked quietly, always ready, but nothing came. This seemed to increase the tension, somehow, and instead of relaxing, they felt more apprehensive. They walked closely together, keeping a close eye on whoever was next to them, and wondered why they hadn't encountered anything. Why were they being allowed safe passage through a maze that was so simple in itself? Surely they should have encountered something by now…
The silence was deafening, but not one of them ventured to break it. They walked in stony silence, following Moody, and it was not until they had walked for forty minutes, that they saw a figure blocking their way through.
Harry recognized it immediately as a sphinx. It had the body of a very large lion, enormous clawed paws and a long, swishing tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head, though, was that of a woman. It stared at them calmly, her eyes unblinking, waiting until they were at a reasonable distance from her before speaking.
"You near the end of the maze. I stand between you and the exit," she said smoothly, calmly pacing from side to side of the path, "You must answer my riddle correctly. If you do, I will grant you safe passage to the exit. Should you not be correct, I will attack. If you do not answer, I will allow you to go back unharmed."
The group glanced between them uncomfortably, and the adults huddled to discuss the matter fleetingly. They muttered in low voices, glancing at Harry and Hermione from time to time, before nodding and stepping back. Lupin looked at the sphinx, and said, his voice level, "Could we have the riddle, then?"
The sphinx nodded, coming to a halt and facing them.
"From the beginning of eternity
To the end of time and space
To the beginning of every end
And the end of every place.
What am I?"
Silence greeted her words. Harry could tell Hermione was thinking quickly, her eyes narrowed, nails digging into her palms. The adults were going through the words in their heads as well, wearing expressions of mild confusion and exasperation. Harry felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, wondering whether they would end up dueling the sphinx. Whenever he tried to find an answer to the riddle, the words seemed to fade away in his head, leaving him with nothing but an extremely vague idea of what the riddle said.
Twice he asked the sphinx to repeat the riddle. The creature obliged calmly, her almond-shaped eyes unblinking and serene.
From the beginning of eternity…end of time and space…what in the world did those things have to do with each other, anyway? Beginning of every end and the end of every place…his brain seemed jammed, either unable or unwilling to process the information. He felt as if a thick fog kept clouding his mind…
The adults and Hermione were huddled together discussing it. Harry walked closer and joined in, but they seemed to be as confused as he was. Not one of them seemed to have an idea of what the answer could be; even Hermione wore a look of intense frustration and bewilderment. Harry wished he could help her…he wished he could wipe away that sullen expression from her face and make her happy…he wished he could say something to her…
As he turned to the sphinx to ask it to repeat the riddle again, Hermione suggested they write it down. Elphias Doge conjured a piece of parchment and a quill, and copied it down as the sphinx recited the riddle yet again.
Staring at it in paper did no good for Harry, but it somehow seemed to soothe Hermione to be able to read something. He could almost see the gears in her brain working…turning as they fought to find the answer…
And when she spoke, he fought off a very large impulse to gather her in his arms and just hold her very, very tightly. This was his Hermione, the logical, rational one that always knew what to do. He loved her, for being the way she was, for knowing the answer, for her logical instincts…
"It's the letter 'e'" she said, keeping her voice low enough so that the sphinx didn't hear her, but they did.
Lupin looked at her sharply, "Are you sure?"
She nodded, "The first line-'from the beginning of eternity'. It refers to eternity as a word, not as a thing, and eternity starts with the letter 'e'. 'To the end of time and space'-both words end with 'e'. And the last two lines: 'To the beginning of every end and the end of every place'-in 'every end', both words start with 'e', and in every place, the last letter is 'e'."
The group stared at her in awe, before Moody said, rather gruffly, "You're a very clever witch for your age."
Hermione smiled proudly, and walked towards the sphinx with an air of mingled determination and slight fear. She looked straight into the creature's eyes, and said, in a clear voice, "The letter 'e'."
The sphinx held her gaze for a moment, smiling, before sinking into a bow. She then stretched her front paws, and moved aside to let them pass. The group moved passed through rather hastily, all beaming and praising Hermione. Harry was the last to pass, and he waited patiently until everyone was done speaking with Hermione, before walking towards her and tapping her shoulder. She turned, her smile still broad and proud, her eyes immediately finding his. He smiled at her.
"You're amazing, Hermione, you know that?"
Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked away from him momentarily, before looking back at him and saying, with a timid sort of grin, "You too, Harry," she gathered her hands in his, held them tightly for a few moments, before letting go and turning away from him. She looked back once, still smiling, before walking over to the edge of the lake and peering at the castle.
"Imagine that. It seems as though we have visitors!"
A voice spoke suddenly, loud and booming. They looked around sharply, expecting to find the person somewhere along the trees, but they did not. It was Harry who saw the old man in silk burgundy robes, staring at them from a balcony high up in the castle. He was tall, and thin, with short curly white hair. He looked down at them with an expression of mild surprise and curiosity, twirling a fine silver chain around his fingers.
"There!" Harry said, pointing at him.
The man looked straight at Harry, "And odd, too…you look very much like James Potter. You are Harry Potter, I presume?"
Harry nodded quietly, not knowing what to say. He glanced around at Moody and the rest of the guard, wanting them to continue talking, but they merely continued to stare up at the man with unreadable expressions.
"Well, then, what business do you seek with Fabrice Dupont?" he asked, frowning.
Lupin stepped forward, "It's about one of your protective amulets. The one James asked you to make for Lily? About…seventeen years ago?"
The man nodded, "Yes…well, you'll be lucky is Fabrice does indeed agree to speak to you. I am afraid he has grown quite reclusive at his old age-more than he ever was."
"You're not Fabrice?"
He smiled, shaking his head, "No, I am his brother. Let me conjure a bridge for you…and I trust Fabrice will be down to greet you shortly."
They nodded quietly, and waited. Harry crossed his arms at his chest, gazing at the grass below his feet…thinking…what if Fabrice couldn't help them? What if the pendant simply couldn't be fixed? Had they come all the way here for nothing?
And surely, if Dumbledore had even bothered sending them here, it was because the amulet was important on some ground. Could it help him fight Voldemort? Harry seriously doubted whether a pendant would do much difference against him…it honestly looked very fragile-any mild curse could surely break it. And then…? What would they do? He had hardly trained…well, he had trained during the holidays, but it wasn't enough.
But, Harry reasoned, will training really do much difference? Either he could fight him off or not. There wasn't really much he could learn at this point apart from evasion techniques. He knew all the spells he thought he needed, except…well, the Avada Kedavra. But that wasn't a question of practice, either. It was power. Either he had what it took or not…and only then would they know. He certainly wasn't going to practice the spell on anything.
There was a loud clanging sound, and as Harry looked up, he dived away in shock. A large, long and very solid-looking bridge had suddenly materialized itself in midair between them and the castle. He could see Fabrice's brother lowering it slowly with his wand, until it fell with a splash on the lake, splattering them all with water and causing large waves to form. Moody swore silently, drying himself and the rest of them, before beckoning them towards the bridge.
When they reached the entrance to the castle, Fabrice's brother bowed, and led them inside. Their castle was immense-it looked even bigger than Hogwarts-and extremely elegant. The floor was of a shiny wood, while the walls varied in color depending on the room. Enormous chandeliers dangled from the high ceilings, and almost all of the furnishings bore an emblem of a very elaborate 'D', embroidered in small golden stones that glinted in the firelight. The curtains were drawn back on all of the windows, revealing an exquisite view of the grounds and the city that laid beyond.
As they entered one of the living rooms, Fabrice's brother turned to them and beckoned them to sit, "He will be down soon-I suspect he's getting ready. I'll go inform the house-elves that they are to bring you something to eat, shall I? Excuse me…"
And with that, he walked away, disappearing down a staircase.
Harry stole a glance at Hermione, who was sitting next to him, and leaned forward to whisper, in a very low voice, "Anything that reminds you of?"
"S.P.E.W.," she said, pursing her lips in the direction of the staircase, "I wonder how many they have trapped in here. The nerve, honestly! I bet they make them clean the whole house by themselves…oh, I wish I could help those poor elves…"
"Thought that was it," said Harry, smiling.
She turned her attention to him fully, locking her eyes on him, "Listen Harry…I'm really sorry for not talking to you since we left Hogwarts. That was really horrible of me…I just-"
"No, Hermione, it's okay. I kind of figured out why you did it and-"
"Welcome!"
Harry turned his neck so fast he could have sworn he broke something. Standing in the doorway was a tall, spindly old man, with sleek gray hair that reached his shoulders. He wore fine pale green robes that were several inches too short for him, and surveyed them with an expression of mingled dislike and curiosity.
"It is a pleasure to meet you all-my name is Fabrice Dupont," he said, his smile never reaching his cold eyes.
Lupin made to step forward, but Moody was faster. He cleared his throat and said, in a slightly threatening tone, "My name is Alastor Moody…this is Remus Lupin…Nymphadora Tonks…Elphias Doge…" ha paused for a second, before pointing towards Harry and Hermione, "And these here are Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."
Fabrice's gaze remained cool as ever, but at the mention of Harry's name he whirled to face him, his eyebrows so high they were barely visible, "Harry Potter? Well, this certainly is an odd assortment of guests I have here today…" he said softly, peering at Harry. His gaze, though nothing close to welcoming, was less colder, and his frame seemed less tense, "And to what do I owe this visit?" he added, recovering from the shock and looking back at Moody.
As Moody explained everything about the pendant, Harry let his mind wander. He was sitting so close to Hermione…it was incredible how pleasant she still smelled, despite two days of merciless traveling. Her eyes were trained on Fabrice, slightly narrowed in mistrust, and she was sitting unusually straight, her frame rigid. Harry was tempted to wrap his arm around her, but he fought off the impulse. He knew she wouldn't feel comfortable, snuggling in front of all those adults, and in a house they had barely stepped foot in.
Fabrice reminded Harry of Karkaroff, for some reason. Maybe it was the hypocrisy in his smiles, and the coldness of his pale eyes, but he couldn't shake off the image.
It wasn't long before all eyes were on him, though. He suspected the conversation had ended a bit of a while ago, and they had clearly asked him something.
"Err…what?"
Fabrice seemed to fight off an impulse to roll his eyes, "The pendant. May I have a look at it?"
"Oh-yeah," said Harry hastily, fumbling for the pendant, which was safely around his neck. He took it off, handing it to Fabrice carefully.
Fabrice pulled out a monocle from his robes and examined the pendant through it. He made a lot of annoying noises, such as slight gasps, or mumbles to himself. After ten minutes or so passed, a small cluster of house-elves peeked timidly around the corner, carrying a tray of food for them. They looked completely frightened, though Harry supposed that was more due to the presence of strangers rather than anything else. Hermione, however, didn't think so, and he had to restrain her from trying to talk to them as they placed the tray on a small table. As they hurried back to the kitchens, Hermione huffed, crossing her arms and refusing to eat anything.
Finally, Fabrice pocketed the monocle and looked up at them, "It is specific, yes, but not as Albus suspected. It should respond to young Potter. Amulets specific to people are made with their blood, and if I'm not mistaken, there are two blood crystals here," he paused, scrunching his face as if to remember something, "I'm very sure James came with both Lily and her son when he asked it to be made…and I very much doubt he asked it to be specific to him and Lily-if ever a man was noble it was James."
When no one spoke, he sighed, "It is also specific to a certain situation-mortal peril. It has a phoenix core, and that specific type of blood crystal used…yes; it is definitely specific to mortal peril. If the bearer-in this case, Harry-were not in any mortal danger, the pendant would not react."
Just as Moody opened his mouth to speak, Fabrice held up a hand to silence him, "There is more, I'm afraid…since it has been buried under dust and debris for such a long time, its magic is somewhat…well, weakened. It would take me a day, at the least, to correctly mend it. It this is fine with you, I can-and will, of course-offer you a place to stay, as well as food and drink."
Moody and the rest of the adults huddled together for a moment, discussing whether or not it would be safe to stay. Harry distinctly heard Moody say, in a low, growling tone, "I don't trust him. We don't know if it's safe here, anyway."
But Tonks shook her head dismissively, "Oh, you don't trust anyone, Mad-Eye. We didn't come here for nothing! And if Albus sent us here, it's because he trusts this Dupont. I think it's worth it."
That seemed to close the matter. Moody nodded, looking disgruntled, and Lupin addressed Fabrice, "That would be excellent. It's no trouble for you, though, right?"
Fabrice shook his head, "Of course not! I'll just send a few of the house-elves to get your rooms ready, shall I? Oh-would you like a tour of the house as well? Of course you would, wait just one minute…excuse me."
He exited the room, and Harry heard him calling for someone. In a few minutes, a diminutive house-elf entered the room, wearing a broad smile that contrasted greatly with his frightened eyes. In bright, squeaky tones that forcibly reminded Harry of Dobby and Winky, she beckoned them to follow.
***
6:02 a.m., Monday morning, Fabrice Dupont's castle - Limerick, Ireland
Harry awoke with a jolt. He had cold sweat all over him, and he was very, very thirsty for some reason. He couldn't remember very well that he had been dreaming, but he could still feel the anxiousness, the distress that had taken over him. He sat up in his bed, running a hand through his hair and sighing. It was no use trying to remember what the dream had been about. He only remembered it having to do with someone he cared very much about.
Feeling no real impulse to go back to sleep, he pulled on his dressing gown and glassed, wandering instead out of his room. He decided he would venture down to the kitchens and have something to eat, or merely just take a stroll around the house.
He did not go far, however, before he heard them talking.
Moody was speaking, his breathing slightly ragged, as if he had run there, "…I got it less than a minute ago. Voldemort's lot has attacked the Ministry. Most of the Order's there right now, fighting them off, but it's useless. He's got all sorts of foul creatures working for him, and an incredible number of Death Eaters. The Ministry's lost."
Harry froze. Had he heard correctly? Pressing himself to the wall and praying that Moody's eye didn't stray in his direction, he began to listen intently.
Lupin's hoarse voice spoke next, "What? But how could this happen? We've only been away for three days, and suddenly everything's falling apart?"
"Yes, well, never mind that. What do we do with Potter and Granger? We can't send them back to Hogwarts-that's probably his next target. The students are going to be sent away to their homes soon, too, possibly after Easter break."
There was a momentary silence, before Tonks spoke, "They'll have to go to Headquarters, won't they? The Weasleys will be arriving there soon, anyway, after the whole mess breaks out…it's probably the safest place there is now."
Harry's body felt numb. He could barely breathe…it was really happening. After all this time, it was all finally happening, and it would all lead up to his due with Voldemort. The one that would decide everything…the future of the Wizarding and Muggle worlds…the lives of every single person…it would all be decided by that one duel, that was incredibly close now.
"Should go now, or should we wait a few hours?"
"Now. Go wake Potter and Granger, Remus. Tonks-go inform Dupont that we're leaving. Don't tell him why. Remember to take the pendant. Elphias, help me get our things."
Harry quickly disentangled his legs and backed away from the wall, cautious not to make a sound. When he was sure he could sprint back to his room, he turned and made to run, but quickly collided with someone. He bumped heads with whoever it was, stumbling backwards, biting back a cry of pain.
"Ouch! Harry, be careful!"
"Hermione? What're you doing here?"
"The same thing you are. C'mon, we'd better get back to our rooms," she grabbed hold of his wrist and steered him up a flight of stairs, almost flying back to their rooms. Harry could barely breathe.
"Did…did you hear everything?"
They had reached his room. Harry's eyes met hers, and in the faint light, he could make out the small, pearly tears clinging to her eyelashes. Her lower lip trembled, and she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.
"Oh, Harry…" she said softly, sobbing, "What are we going to do? It's all happening…it really is…"
Harry wrapped her arms around her, silent. He stroked her hair and patted her back for a few moments, until he heard footsteps coming towards them. He pulled away, wiping her tears from her cheeks with the tip of his finger and kissing her quickly. He tried to look strong, to look as though nothing of this made him feel the least bit nervous about what might happen. He really tried…but in the end, he only managed to give her a weak smile, kissing her lips softly once more. She looked up at him, feeling desolated, worried. She held his gaze for a moment, before pulling away and slinking back to her own room, beside his.
They couldn't help it. As they both sank back into their beds and pretended to be asleep, they couldn't help the tears that fell down their cheeks.
Tears of desperation. Of fear. Of worry…for everything, for each other, for all those people that were in danger…
They couldn't help wishing that none of his were happening.
***
They arrived at Grimmauld Place ten minutes later, by Apparition.
Harry couldn't help it. The memories of Sirius came flooding back into his mind. He had been here after it all happened, yes, but somehow, he just couldn't get over it. He couldn't just step foot into his house and not remember his godfather.
How could he do this?
He didn't have Sirius, he didn't have Ron…he only had Hermione, and while he may love her very much, and confide in her…he needed his friend, and he needed his godfather. He couldn't do this without them.
He hated that he hadn't made up with Ron. He hated that, no matter what he did, Sirius couldn't be there.
He needed them.
As their guard walked into the kitchen to have an impromptu Order meeting, they began to walk up the flights of stairs to their rooms. Along the way, however, Harry lost any will to keep walking, and sat down on the steps, staring at his feet…wondering…
What was he going to do? He couldn't do this…he couldn't just kill the most powerful dark wizard of all time, just like that…
He knew there was still a bit of time to go before the inevitable came, but…he couldn't help thinking about it. The attack on the Ministry had pushed all rational thought out of his mind, all security and happiness he might have possessed, and left him only with worries…weak, defeated.
Hermione sat down next to him. She didn't speak. She just wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head on his shoulder, crying silently. The only sound he could hear were her choked sobs…
"I'm sorry, Hermione."
She shook her head, not looking up at him, "Don't be sorry, Harry. You've done nothing wrong," her voice was muffled, and she seemed to cry harder at Harry's words.
"I just am. I hate myself for bringing you into this."
She pulled away from him, looking at him straight in the eye, "I would have been here, anyway, Harry. I've always been your friend," she paused, as if considering her words, "and so has Ron. He still is, Harry…he'll be here for you soon."
And with that, she leant her head back on his shoulder and uttered not another word.
They stayed like that for a long, long time…waiting. Waiting until the Weasleys and the rest of the Order arrived…waiting to see if things would worsen or not…
Harry pondered Hermione's words carefully. He'd never thought his friendship with Ron had ended like that, but he couldn't deny he hadn't been worried. Ron had so diligently went about his days without speaking, or even looking at them, after all, that he couldn't help but think that Ron was no longer his friend. He certainly didn't want their friendship to be over, especially for a matter of who got Hermione or not.
He really didn't care how it happened; he just wanted his friend back.
Hours later, as he stared up at the ceiling of his bed, he wished, with all the strength he could muster, that Ron would arrive the next day. He needed to talk to him. They couldn't let it end like this.
***
4:35 p.m., Monday afternoon, Grimmauld Place - London
Ron and his family arrived that afternoon.
It was a very hard thing to do, going up to Ron and just saying he was sorry, but he would do it. He didn't care if Ron should be the one to apologize, or him. He really didn't care who should go first. He would go ahead and do it, because he knew that Ron would take an age to finally say it, and he honestly couldn't wait that long.
As Fred, George, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley walked into the kitchen to talk to the rest of the Order members that were present, Harry asked Ginny is he, Ron and Hermione could have a moment alone to talk.
"Sure," she said, shrugging, "I'll just go up to the room Hermione and I always share."
Ginny sprinted up the stairs, and Harry waited until she had shut the door quietly behind her, before turning to Ron.
Ron had been silent ever since he had seen Harry. He knew it was time to let it all go. And he was ready, sort of. He knew Harry was facing something much worse, and compared to his own stupid feelings, that was much more important. He knew that Harry and Hermione loved each other-in a way Hermione had never loved him. He didn't know if he would ever feel for someone like that…he'd always thought he had felt that way for Hermione, but maybe…maybe he was wrong. He didn't know anymore. Nothing really made sense.
The only thing he knew was that he had to be strong about this, for Harry.
For his best friend.
"Ron," said Harry, looking straight at him.
"I know," he said, "I'm sorry, too."
Harry looked as if he wanted to say more, but Ron cut him off, "Listen Harry…we should just get to the point. I know what you're going to say and, well…I already know that. You're my best mate, and I could never stop being friends with you because you did what…what was right. You and Hermione…you're meant to be like that. I was just…wrong. And I'm sorry for being such a prat about it for so long. I really am, mate. I wish I could take back all the stuff I said…I was such a prat," he finished, looking down at his feet as he remembered all the cruel things he'd said to his friends.
Had he really said that? Had he really been so immature about things?
Sure, they shouldn't have gone behind his back like that, and they shouldn't have lied…but everyone made mistakes. If he had been in the same situation, he might've ended up doing the same thing, after all.
And they were friends…they always had been…it wasn't worth ending their friendship over something as trivial as that.
Harry nodded, and a stony silence settled between them. Hermione cleared her throat, and Ron looked at her, slightly apprehensively.
"Ron…I…I'm really sorry. I know I hurt you so much…I didn't think about the things I did and said, and I behaved like such an idiot…" she said softly, tears welling in her eyes, "It was all my fault…every single thing that happened…I should have handled things better…I really hate that I said such things to you. You're my friend, no matter how much we fight and disagree, and you mean a lot to me. You're like a brother to me…I really can't believe how I acted towards you. I know that things between us might not be the same for a while, and I am really sorry, Ron…I truly am," tears were sliding down her cheeks now, and she was sobbing quietly, barely holding herself together.
"Oh…Hermione, c'mon…don't cry like that…"
Ron walked forward and pulled Hermione into a clumsy hug. He held her for a moment, making soothing sounds and patting her head.
When she pulled away, her eyes were still red and puffy, and her face was tearstained, but she seemed to be holding herself differently now. Harry couldn't quite explain it, but she looked calmer, more composed than before.
"So…are we…?"
Ron looked at him and smiled, for the first time in a very long time, "Friends?" he said, and chuckled, "'Course, mate."
Harry smiled back, and Hermione looked between the two of them before collapsing into more tears, though these were mostly due to the fact that she was glad to have things back to normal between them. She pulled them both into a hug, smiling, and Harry distinctly heard her say, in a low voice, that she was glad to have them both back.
And he found himself agreeing, full heartedly.
A/N: Hey, guys! This is the penultimate chapter…be on the lookout for the last one this week, too!
Um…well, check out my one-shots. I've written quite a few lately. =) There's 'Lips and Reason' (H/Hr), 'Cold' (D/G), and 'Strong' (D/G).
Hope you've enjoyed the fic, up till now! Cheers, and till the next!