Childish Things

artchick

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 28/01/2005
Last Updated: 04/10/2005
Status: in_progress

After the Department of Mysteries, everyone is dealing with their own nightmares. After an attack, the trio is shaken and ready to fight back. It is revealed that all things are set in their appropriate time. There is a time to put away childish things and become the heroes they were destined to be.

Chapters

1. Nightmares

2. Anger and Distance

3. Leaving Home?

4. The Train

5. Life Lessons

6. Friend or Foe

7. Low Blows

8. Potter is our King

9. Hogsmede

10. Regroup

11. A time for everything

12. Being Hermione Granger's Boyfriend

13. Being Harry Potter's Girlfriend

14. Rubbish For Brains

15. Finding Your Roots...

16. Hermione Giggles!

17. Gryffindors, its always the Gryffindors...

18. Witches Unite!

19. Decisions

20. Traitor

21. Insanity

22. The Power of the Spell

23. The Future is...NOW!

24. Finite Incantatum

25. Fading Away

26. Lost

27. Power and Vengeance

1. Nightmares

Chapter 1

Nightmares

Hermione woke up with a start. Her heart was thudding in her chest like she had just run a marathon. She blearily peered over the covers and examined the alarm clock.

Oh yeah. She had thrown it across the room last night about four. That's why it's blinking twelve o'clock, she grumbled irritably. It was early morning now and there was no way she was going to get back to sleep. She sighed tiredly. The silence of her parents' home had become a bit uncomfortable for her now after so many years being surrounded by others in her dorm room at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Even the pleasant tick tocking of her family's grandfather clock sounded odd to the girl. It had come to remind her too much of the room in the Department of Mysteries where she had fought for her life only one month before. Images of the Death Eater caught in the bell of Time aging back and forth from baby to adult while waving its arms trying to get free made her shiver with distaste. Nothing seemed normal anymore. Without thinking she walked to the hallway and pulled the weights free from the elaborately carved oak clock. The lack of that ticking sound was bliss.

Hermione hadn't slept much since she had returned from Kings Cross Station in early June. She was so exhausted. Visions of Voldemort and his followers attacking her and her friends wouldn't leave her in peace. She couldn't key down enough to realize she wasn't still under attack. The girl would have recurring fits of panic that were beginning to worry her father and mother. So many what ifs would flit through her mind jumpy and irritable Sirius was dead. There was no escaping that unpleasant fact. Hermione's heart broke when she imagined what Harry was going through right now.

Gently, she peeled back the comforter and slid her bare feet across the floor. She didn't want to wake her parents again. If she kept alarming them they would seriously consider not allowing her to return to Hogwarts. She had convinced them that she had contracted a kind of wizard's flu to explain her morose behavior. They didn't realize that most wizards enjoyed robust health that never led to simple disease or illness. Most of what witches and wizards would need healthcare for would be self-inflicted charms or for badly performed curses that backfired onto them.

The girl walked slowly down the stairs and entered the kitchen. Her mother had left the dirty dinner dishes in the sink to soak. Mrs. Granger wasn't one to be too obsessed with order like her daughter.

Hermione sighed and shrugged. Might as well be helpful. Running water and adding soap seemed mundane and normal. Just like Hermione liked it. Quietly she wiped the dishes in the water cleaning each one carefully. The water dripped over the edge of the sink getting her old and threadbare Snoopy nightshirt soggy in the front. The dishes were well loved and oddly matched. The Granger family could afford better china, but these were the dishes Hermione had bought her mother for Christmas with her allowance the year she was twelve. Her mom couldn't part with them, so they used them often, laughing at the chips and cracks as the years went on.

It didn't take very long, however and the dishes were dried and stacked away. She leaned back against the counter and enjoyed the cool air as her shirt chilled in the air conditioning. It had been a hot summer. Even the nights stayed balmy. Her father had ranted and raved about the price of running the cooling system at night, but Hermione loved the feel of the vents whooshing clean cold air down her back. The feel of it was delightful.

Hermione had started to appreciate the simple pleasures in life. She couldn't seem to handle anything too complicated lately, anyway. If her mother mentioned her holiday homework revision, the girl would blanch and murmur that she'd get to it and not to worry. She knew that her old self would have had it done in the first few days. She used to think that “a task done would be more fun” as her planner loved to chant. Now she didn't want to think at all. Any thought about Hogwarts or even her friends in the DA sent her into panic mode. Hermione's chest would constrict and she wouldn't be able to swallow. They had no idea what was really going on in the wizarding world. If they ever found out how dangerous her life was at Hogwarts she would never see the old castle or her Gryffindor mates again. She had held back showing how afraid she had been following the attack by Voldemort and the Death Eaters at the Ministry. Not one guessed that nightmares were nightly terrifying one of the strongest witches in the D.A.

Light was starting to peer through the windows above the sink. She wondered how many nights she could endure like this one. Up until two a.m. and awake again from nightmares by five. Not much chance to rest like that. What she wouldn't do for a long draught of Madame Pomfrey's dreamless sleep. She could have brewed it herself, but the underage magic decree prevented her from performing any magic at all away from the school. Not that she had the energy or mental faculties to accomplish the potion in the state she was in right now. She wryly admitted to herself that she couldn't possibly perform the simplest of charms even if she had tried.

The sunrise was beautiful. That lovely and welcome daybreak calmed her as she warmed a cup of cocoa in the microwave. She liked to slip outside to enjoy the soft chill of the morning before it all burned off in the heat of the day.

It was so nice here. It was calm and quiet. No one yelling death threats or curses that killed with one word or phrase. She shivered even though the temperature outside was quickly warming up.

How nice it would be to just attend a regular Muggle school she sighed.

She could if she wanted to. And maybe just maybe she really did want to. No more magic. No more attacks where she and her friends were the target of absolute evil. No more standing up against such atrocities to witness the death of innocents and mentors like Sirius.

A lump rose in her throat at the thought of her older friend. He had been frightening at first sight, but later “Snuffles” had become a good confidante. She had always considered him a more approachable parent figure. Her own parents didn't seem to want to know much about the magical world and her involvement in it. She also had so few close friends that the camaraderie of friend's parents had never been an option before. Sirius had been more playmate than parent having lost so much in prison that he took to the joys of Godfathering Harry with fervor and abandon.

Hermione shook off the momentary pang and dashed quickly upstairs as if trying to outrun her memories. A quick change into her bathing suit and twist of her hair she was ready for the day. It was all she could do to lie in the sun as she had every day since she had returned home. She could manage a doze but could never quite get to sleep. To sleep would be to invite the horrors that edged the corners of her mind.

The days passed quickly drifting one into the other. No one called for her since most of her friends were wizards and knew very little of Muggle technology. Ron had sent a few owls though, mostly to inquire about her contact with Harry. She kept meaning to owl Harry, but she didn't own an owl herself, and she always forgot to send one with little Pig, Ron's tiny owl. All she wanted to do was to drift through the days and enjoy the sun as it floated across the sky.

Her mum, tired of this behavior forced Hermione out of the house one day. It was still blistering hot as they traveled by tube to Harrod's. It was completely different from Diagon Alley, with its bright lights and flashy banners calling the customers to `buy me'. After a few moments, Hermione couldn't help herself. She was a teenage girl after all. Soon she and her mother were enjoying a lovely day immersing themselves in the latest fashions.

By the end of summer, she had developed quite a wardrobe, but still hadn't dealt with the issues that were plaguing her. She also hadn't written to Harry. She wanted to, very badly. Everything she wanted to say to him about Sirius and how proud she was of him felt flat and expressionless when she put quill to paper.

“Why don't they just use ball point pens! This is the twenty-first century, you know!” She groused after busting the tip on another quill. Harry would have laughed at that, she thought. She remembered the times back in school when Voldemort seemed far away and they were just students with nothing more to worry about than their exams.

Just the thought of Harry laughing brought a smile to her face. His eyes always lit up with green sparks when he was delighted about something. His messy hair would fall forward on his face and his loud gaffaw would send Ron chortling in response. Her smile faded. Harry would not be laughing now. Her heart saddened with the image of her best friend hurting over Sirius's death.

She stared back at the scratched and ill-written parchment then snatched it off the desk throwing into the bin. She huffed as she slid back against her chair. No ideas came to her. How was she going to tell him that she was so terrified? He would be ashamed of her. Was she a Gryffindor or not? Maybe she should have been a Ravenclaw. She had been clever, but not really that clever. A Hufflepuff? Apparently she wasn't being that loyal after all. She stared at the bin overflowing with bits of parchment and snapped quills.

“Harry will never understand.” She whispered sadly to herself.

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2. Anger and Distance

Chapter 2

Anger and Distance

That sound again! Harry clenched his teeth grinding them in irritation. His cousin, Dudley had acquired a girlfriend. She was an exact copy of Harry's Aunt Petunia down to the horsey face and a fawning attitude toward his bulky and overbearing cousin. Her constant braying laugh caught on Harry's nerves like nails on a chalk board.

It had been days of listening to her say, “Of course you're right, Duddy”, or “They deserved to be beaten, Duddsy.” Apparently these phrases were the only things she knew how to say, since that was all he had ever heard come from her mouth.

He had never actually met her because the family had never introduced him. When she came to number four Privet Drive, Harry was forcibly shoved into his upstairs room for the duration of her stay. He had heard them tell her that his room was just a storage area for Dudley's massive collections of toys and the noises inside from Hedwig were old electronic games whose batteries hadn't died yet. Harry smirked with that outlandish lie, but being forced to stay inside his room for longer and longer hours tolled on the boy. But he was both bored and grateful not to be outside in the searing heat to do the gardening. At least it wasn't the cupboard! Mr. Dursley tried to push Harry underneath the stairs but he didn't fit! He had definitely shot up over the summer.

The Dursley's household ran efficiently from their standpoint. Harry knew his position as cook and maid was demeaning, but years of forced labor and strong-arming the boy had beaten him down and he performed these services without question. Days and years would pass before Harry realized this wasn't a normal family. Other families actually showed love to each other; even nephews who weren't meant to be loved. Vernon Dursely had pounded that concept into Harry's brain early on. He was pounded in the literal and figurative manner as well. The good for nothing boy was worthless Harry had been told. Only the most gracious people would endure company of such a shiftless and lazy specimen of life. Harry had held these concepts tightly within knowing that somehow, even though friends and mentors had indicated these were vicious lies, that he truly didn't deserve love. The day he received his letter he knew that there was something better and greater than this life for him.

His new life as a wizard and knowing what he was had allowed him to endure what was normally harsh conditions at his relatives' home. He cherished his homework in a way that would have stunned Professor Snape. He would portion out his readings in History of Magic with such delight that even Hermione would be shocked.

Every summer he loved to sneak out his broom and use the broom servicing kit she had given him one year for his birthday. His broom had been definitely badly treated down in the dungeon where the previous Headmaster, Miss Umbridge, had stolen it away from him. This year, though, Harry didn't feel like any of it. He would stare at his opened book and re-read the first paragraph over and over until giving up in disgust.

All Harry's thoughts eventully led back to that night and seeing the only father figure he'd ever known fall soundlessly through a veil and out of his life. The loss of Sirius tortured him. The older man was more than a friend and Godfather; he was his connection to his family.

Sirius had happily shared stories of his mother and father that made them come alive to him in a way he had never imagined. Stories of the Mauraders and of Lily as a young girl delighted him. He could picture them clearly and perfectly in his mind. They loved and cared for him. Dreams of his parents holding him and playing with him were laughingly detailed by the man so that Harry could manage to believe it. If he had seen it then it must be true! He was loved! Harry was able with his Godfather's help, to crush that kernel of self-loathing and doubt that had been bred at the Dursley's. However, with the loss of Sirius, the picture of love evaporated into thin air. He was caught listlessly drifting without an anchor. Harry knew that his death was his fault.

Harry Potter had cried all he could cry. Eyes clear and painfully dry, he would endure the day of drudgery with the Dursleys before trudging upstairs to relive over and over that horrible night in his dreams. June came and went. July arrived with stifling heat that Harry suffered upstairs with cobbled together fans and cracked windows. He had to sleep on top of the covers and be glad of the top broken window that caught a breath of air. With the broken window he would have frozen to death in the winter, but luckily he had never lived there during those months.

Hedwig reveled in the freedom of flying in and out of the upper window at night. The boy had to be careful that his uncle caught no wind of Hedwig's nightly escapades, or he would be locked up tight to swelter in the airless room. Vernon Dursley was deathly afraid that the neighbors would see something unusual. Therefore, Harry had been instructed to keep the bird locked up. He was pushing his chances, but Hedwig couldn't survive on the little bits of leftover food Harry could barely manage to give her from his own meager meals. One thing Harry loved was his owl, and Hedwig unconditionally loved him. She was the one thing he would dare to bring Mr. Dursley's wrath over.

The Order still checked on him, so his living had improved somewhat. It wasn't perfect, but the family generally left him alone. Harry always had to be sure not to anger Mr. Dursley, however. His temper had caused more than one black eye over the years.

If the members of the DA could see the boy now, they wouldn't have recognized him. A few years ago, subtle jabs and pushing Dudley's buttons kept him sane. He could laugh and joke with Hermione and Ron about the whole farce of his `family' armed with the knowledge that soon he would be out of here and rid of them forever. Harry used to endure the summers with the Dursley's knowing Hogwarts and his friends were only a few days away. Sirius was reachable by letter and Ron or Hermione would send something funny to keep him going. Now Harry felt he didn't deserve any better.

Ron had sent several owls that thankfully had been missed by his uncle. Harry had stared at them unopened. It was too much work to deal with Ron. The letters piled up on the dresser unanswered until Harry couldn't stand to look at them. He shoved them into a drawer but would still wait anxiously for the next one to arrive. The letters could have been horrible attacks by his friend's family yelling at him for letting Ron and Ginny be so terribly hurt. They might have been telling him he was no longer welcome to the Burrow and that he could never be with his friends again. He couldn't muster up the courage to find out.

One day his anxiousness, worry and lack of sleep had pushed him to the breaking point. He had received nine letters from Ron and nothing from Hermione. It was July 31st and his birthday and he hadn't received anything for eleven days from anyone. It was proof. They were hate letters and both Ron and Hermione didn't want to see him again. He could almost understand Ron forgetting. He was just a bloke, and such things as birthdays sometimes didn't stick. Hermione, however lived for such moments. She really was angry with him. It sent his heart plummeting. Harry had always looked to his best friend as his resource for calm joy and approval. Not when she was yelling at him for something, of course, but usually, he could turn to her and feel understood. She was different from Ron in a way Harry didn't quite have a handle on. Their relationship had grown over the years to become something singular.

Harry got mad. He couldn't help it. They were abandoning him just like all the others! He was furious! The sounds of furniture breaking and glass shattering were hard to explain by the Dursley's to Dudley's girlfriend, but she wasn't terribly smart so the lie about squirrels in the attic had sufficed.

When Vernon had finished berating Harry, the boy, locked in his room, nursed his wrenched shoulder and battered face with almost satisfaction. Harry was still radiating anger at himself and his friends. Without a thought, Harry spelled a howler off to the Burrow to finally stop the letters. He didn't care if the Ministry walked in at that moment and snapped his wand. Maybe now Ron will leave him alone, he thought tiredly before pulling the threadbare sheet over his body and falling into dreamless sleep.

When Harry awoke the next morning Fawkes was perched on his bedside table watching the boy sleep. The dark haired boy eyed the bird warily then rolled over to ignore him in obvious insult. The phoenix had brought a letter from Headmaster Dumbledore in his claws. The bird dropped it onto the bed trilling unsurely at the boy who had always been the older wizard's defender. Harry curled up tighter into a ball and squeezed his eyelids shut. Fawkes hopped over the broken bed frame and perched on Harry's sore shoulder. Scarlet head feathers rubbed softly against his arm releasing a feeling of well-being, peace and comfort. His arm stopped aching and Harry did feel better. Chirping lightly, Fawkes landed next to Harry's face and looked him in the eye very closely.

“Thank you, Fawkes.” Harry whispered.

The bird graciously nodded before flying out the window in a burst of rainbow colors.

Thumping feet on the stairs outside his door told Harry his Uncle was furious about something. It was usually something Harry did or didn't do that set the man off. Sometimes for no reason what so ever the overly angry man would explode at his nephew. For the first time in months Harry felt good. For the first time in a long time Harry felt like fighting back. All the accumulated aches and pains of boxed ears or being shoved against the wall were now gone. His head seemed unclouded and he was still very, very angry.

The door burst open as Mr. Dursley came in yelling about breakfast and ungrateful leeches.

“Get up, you lazy oaf! Do you think you deserve a lie-in or something?” The man shoved at the bed that had been busted by Dudley's heavy frame, knocking the precariously put back together bed off its legs. Harry landed in a heap on the other side of the bed knocking his head against the old scarred side table.

“Hey!” Harry angrily scrambled back upright holding the back of his head gingerly.

“What do you think you are, get your arse up!” Dursley yelled pulling sheets off the boy's fallen frame.

“Get yourself downstairs. Your Aunt Petunia has been waiting for five whole minutes for you!” The older man's eyes gleamed as he approached the boy menacingly with his beefy fist raised. The he struck. The pain hit roughly against Harry's face sending stars skittering across his vision.

“NO!” Harry yelled and he instinctively threw back his own punch before the man could see what was coming. Mr. Dursley's beefy body knocked hard against the wall and he gave a `whoosh' as his breath pushed out in pain and surprise. Harry had never responded before. Mr. Dursley had always been able to rough up the boy with little reaction. The child had been too scared to try to defend himself when he was younger. Vernon didn't like this new change in his favorite punching bag.

The man's face closed harshly into an even uglier expression. He pushed back off the wall and launched himself toward the boy.

Harry stood his ground. He pulled himself at his full height, locked both his legs apart front and back and prepared to defend himself. Vernon Dursley looked slightly startled but didn't stop even when he saw the determination and steely ferocity in his nephew's eyes. Harry didn't stop to think about using Magic. He didn't have his wand, anyway. The only response his body knew was to physically throw everything he had at the attacker. With a yell, Harry shoved his shoulder into the coming fist and threw his own sharply connecting right hook. The surprised man fell onto the ground in pain and disbelief clutching his jaw. Harry stood over him in anger and shook slightly with the strength of his angry emotions.

“Never hit me again!” Harry yelled as the room shuddered magicly.

Harry's uncle's eyes widened to take in the now tall and forbidding figure. Harry looked more like an angry man than a cowering boy. Vernon scrambled up throwing himself at the door. Rattling down the stairs, Mr. Dursley muttered about ungrateful wretches under his breath. In reality, he was afraid. They had to get out of here.

The tousled-haired boy stood shakily, pale and shivering even in the heat of the upstairs room. He didn't know he had been holding his breath until it whooshed out involuntarily. It was over. Harry understood that now. He didn't feel good or bad about it, just resigned. He had lost the only protection he had had against Voldemort because he couldn't keep his temper in check. He had also lot his only home. Dumbledore would be so disappointed in him. The thought of the kind man turning away from him in anger sent Harry spiraling in dismay.

“Damn.”

He wasn't unhappy with the thought of leaving, but he didn't know where he could go. The burrow was out. So was Hermione's. That thought made him sigh.

He was still shaking from the adrenaline rush. He had stood up for himself, finally. He remembered the glance of fear in his uncle's eyes. That look directed at him made him feel low and dirty. He didn't want to see such things in the eyes of his relatives; even after all that had happened he only wanted them to love him. At this stage, Harry had to admit that he knew that wasn't going to happen. He was never going to have a family that cared for him. Harry dropped himself down onto the tilted bed and placed his face wearily into his hands.

Hours passes and shadows fell across the disheveled room. Harry had crawled back onto the bed after pushing it off its frame and settling in onto the floor. He fingered the letters he had pulled out of the drawer and had laid them out in front of him in sequential order. Fear of rejection, fear of being hit, fear of loss; all had been controlling him since that day at the Ministry. Harry's heart thudded in his chest and he forced himself to pick up and open the letters one by one.

Each letter was heart-wrenching for Harry. They were all in Ron's handwriting asking about him and wanting him to spend the summer at the Burrow. The letters in succession became angrier at his lack of response. If Harry had just answered the letters to begin with he would have been with his friends a month ago. Ron spoke little of his injury, but Harry could read in the red head's writing that his thoughts were becoming clearer and more his old self. Ginny was better and flying Quidditch with her brothers as well. By the time Harry read the last letter he wanted to kick himself. After that scathing Howler he sent Ron, there was no way his friend would forgive him.

A clattering in the front yard caught his attention. Looking out the broken window, he saw his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin Dudley throwing their baggage into the family car. It was a conservative indiscriminate colored car that Mr. Dursley was sure stated taste and quality. Harry had always hated that car. It always smelled of cheese and Dudley's sweaty uniforms; both of which Dudley often left in the back seat on Harry's side. Uncle Vernon was swearing at the blond overweight boy and grappling the car door as if to force the car into submission. Dudley looked very subdued and wide-eyed. The slowly blooming black eye on his face made Harry wince in sympathy. Apparently his angry uncle had found a new subject on which to vent his frustrations.

Harry's uncle followed his son's eyes and looked up to see his nephew dispassionately watching their departure.

“You will be in school when we get back from our vacation. Well, maybe you will, I have no idea how you will get there!” he grinned evilly liking the idea of the boy stranded without anyone to help.

Mrs. Dursley looked alarmed and confused by the week-early rush to their vacation resort. Vernon hadn't acted this rashly since the day Harry's acceptance letter came in floods of envelopes carried by those dirty owl things.

“Don't bother to come home next summer! The locks will be changed!” The man's voice hissed loudly enough for Harry to hear but low enough the neighbor's wouldn't notice.

The metallic doors slammed pointedly and the car squealed out of the drive leaving black marks that made Mrs. Dursley squeal with dismay. Harry could see but not hear the man berating his wife and son all the way down the drive and into the street and out of his life.

He paused for a moment then padded in his socks down the stairs, out side and onto the brick patio. The breeze was slight, but cool. He settled down into the reclining deck chair he had never been allowed on before and sighed. This was nice. No one to think about and three weeks before term, Harry thought. He was relieved. He just had to get to Hogwarts in a month. He'll never have to see the Dursley's again. He didn't know where he'd go or what he'd do, but for now things were decided beyond his control. His brain fogged again and he slipped softly into a light doze rather that stopping and examining his real feelings.

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3. Leaving Home?

Chapter 3

Leaving home

Mr. Weasley walked up to Number 4 Privet Drive with not a little displeasure. If Harry had been one of his sons he would have given him a big talking to. He didn't like it at all when the Missus cried, and that Howler of Harry's had ruined a perfectly good pot roast. It had taken him several hours to stop the flow of tears and that was a feat in and of itself.

The front yard looked a little overgrown and not at all what he'd remembered. The Dursley's were far too fastidious to allow their prize lawn to grow so abused. Arthur knocked at the front door and rechecked his Muggle clothing. It seemed alright. However, he would never understand why Muggles would want to wear a piece of cloth so tightly around their neck that you felt like you were choking to death. He had a rather loud tie in orange and yellow (approved by Ron, the Chudley Cannons fanatic) and a rather dapper blue leisure suit that would have been highly sporting in the 70's. It all was essentially correct according to the records he had reviewed, but he suspected something had to be a bit off.

Harry didn't even blink when he opened the door to the knock of Arthur Weasley and his alarming attire. It was the first day of term and the Hogwarts Express was due in less than two hours. Secretly Harry had dreamed that Sirius would show up at the door, saying it had all been a great joke and he was here to take him on to school. They would laugh and carry on about what a lark it all had been. Harry knew this was not just a stupid idea but also a little teesy bit insane. Too much time alone he guessed. His relatives had left on July 31st and today was September 1st. A month alone never leaving the house had to make anyone batty.

“Mrs. Figg told us the Dursley's had gone on their holiday and that you needed a lift to the Express.” Mr. Weasley was still put out by the boy's bad manners, but he also knew his children had been blessed with a mother that cared for them and taught them how to behave. Harry however had that shrill horse-faced woman and that angry lout of an uncle for family. How anyone could learn anything about manners in that household was beyond his comprehension.

Harry opened the door wider and let Mr. Weasley inside. It was dank and gloomy and a little smelly inside. It also looked like Harry had made a nest-like area in the living room where he had been sleeping and apparently eating by the evidence of several boxes of pizza scattered around the room. The smell was coming from the refrigerator in the kitchen.

“Harry? Can't we turn on the lights in here? It's a little dark.” Mr. Weasley stumbled over a box of Luigi's Best Pizza Pie and put his foot in a day old slice of pepperoni and onions.

“Oh. Well. When the Dursley's left they had the electric service turned off.” Harry stated this matter-of-factly as if that was expected even though he had been left to fend for himself.

“Don't you need `lek-trick' service to have lights and such things? Surely your relatives wouldn't do that on purpose. Why didn't you come and stay with us when you knew they were leaving? You do realize Mrs. W was very upset by that Howler you sent Ron, don't you?”

Harry winced at the news of his well-beloved Mrs. Weasley crying over him.

“I'm really sorry, sir.” He hung his head and shuffled over to his bedding to collect his shoes. He had to shove at the sleeves of the enormous sweatshirt to get them high enough over his arms that he could tie his trainers.

“She'll be fine once you send your apologies, young man. I don't know what the new generation does sending howlers at each other. You upset her and that upsets me. You understand? Now where's your baggage?”

Mr. Weasley waved his hand to dismiss the subject. He was a little concerned about the state of things here at Privet Drive. Why didn't Figg tell Dumbledore the state of things here? It was not his place to say, but he would never countenance any child to be left alone like this without the basics of life.

Harry had mentioned nothing about the family being away when the Order owled him. It was very unusual.

Mr. Weasley peered about in the dark examining all the interesting Muggle artifacts in their proper setting. A wizard's home ran smoothly enough without Muggle `Lek `tizzity', but he knew it was essential to keep all of Muggles going. He was going to have to check into this situation, no matter if he wasn't in charge of this boy or not!

“Um. Sir, I haven't unpacked from last term, so that shouldn't be problem, but they locked my trunks in the basement along with my wand,” Harry paused and shrugged.

“Lead the way, Harry.” Arthur was sure there was more to that story than Harry was willing to reveal. Ron was going to be asked a few pointed questions next time his father saw him.

Something dawned on Mr. Weasley as he charmed the trunk up the stair after magicking the door lock undone.

“Harry, what did you eat? If the `E-Lek-Trick' service;” he said it carefully, “wasn't functioning…” Comprehension and dismay spread across the man's face.

“Oh, I broke into Dudley's money stash and had pizza every few days. It was actually not that bad. I didn't think of it right away, and I was sure I was in for it, but I got the notion when I saw empty boxes in his room. I found out I really like pizza.” Harry grinned at the thought of Dudley coming home to find all his hidden money missing.

Mr. Weasley shook his head wondering how his family could abandon him like this. Harry was sixteen and really almost a man, but the emotional toll of being left like this had to be damaging. It was a wonder that Harry had survived so well. It actually told more to Arthur than any questions Harry would have answered. Harry was used to surviving like this. He knew that Ron would have been right helpless without his mother to take care of every little thing. He often told his wife to let Ron learn a few life skills, but she tut-tutted his words saying she had just a little time left to baby her last son, so would he kindly keep his ginger head out of it.

“We'll have to apparate, son, so just a warning.” Harry looked startled to be called anyone's `son', but a small smile still tugged at him a little.

With a pop and a shriek from Hedwig, the two figures left Privet Drive forever. Harry didn't even look back.

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4. The Train

Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling has everything. It just isn't right, but that's life.

I would like to say a lovely “THANK YOU!” to all my reviewers. I never thought about the apparition thing…let's just say you got me. Sorry.

Also, Chockymousse is my beta and I love you! Chocky Rocks!

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Chapter 4

The train

The train huffed and rattled into the station floating huge clouds of steam to roll over the occupants of the platform. Ron was delighted to see the Hogwarts Express finally reach the station. He couldn't wait to get his hands on that stupid prat of a best friend. Ron knew what was happening. Harry was running amok in the guilt thing again. He couldn't understand how Harry would try to take everything on himself like he did. That bloody howler was the last straw. At first, Ron thought it was a ripe joke and he had laughed. When he saw Ginny's face he understood that he actually didn't understand anything after all. Gin could always read people better than he did. He had finally grasped that his best friend really wasn't coming for the last bit of summer.

At first he wanted to throttle him. Now, Ron just wanted to get him here to talk! He knew once they were back in the train and having a proper Chocolate frog nosh that everything would feel right again. Every time Harry went back to those horrible people in the summer he seemed darker and more beaten in spirit. A lot had happened last term, but a lot had happened every year. They'd get through this just like they always did. As long as no one brings up the whole `big brain' episode again. He had been properly harassed by his dim-witted twin brothers every time they came home on the weekends from their joke shop for Sunday dinner. His parents made sure he had a checkup at St. Mungo's after they got home from Hogwarts, but it wasn't so bad. Ron spent a pleasant evening chatting up a very young and very pretty nurse who was impressed with his stories about fighting off the Death Eaters.

Ron grabbed his trunk and absently kissed his mother goodbye while she fluttered and admonished him and Ginny before they could escape.

“Try not to grow anymore Ron! I just let out Percy's robes for you and there won't be any more hems to let out! Ginny dear, please be sure and write me all about Harry as soon as you can. I am very worried about that dear boy.”

Mrs. Weasley waved them off as they pulled themselves up onto the steps and into the train car. Ginny immediately saw one of her mates and left Ron to his own devices. The tall red-headed boy looked around and noticed they were actually early for once. Ron grinned realizing his two older brothers were the ones who were always making them late for everything.

“Brilliant! For once we don't have to settle for the worst cabin car!”

He wandered around before he found the cabin closest to the trolley cart refill station. It couldn't hurt to be close to where the trolley was. Harry always bought a cart full for tradition's sake.

Neville Longbottom nearly bumped into him as Ron was inspecting all the candies and cakes on display.

“Oy! Watch it!” Ron sputtered as he got a nose full of custard.

Luckily he had a few knuts to pay for it since the witch watching the trolley had crossed her arms and was tapping her foot in anger. Neville looked properly contrite and offered to pay him back as soon as he unloaded his trunk in their dorm.

Neville had grown taller than but not nearly as tall as Ron. Surprisingly, Neville had also caught up to his gangly legs and arms and his features had filled in pleasantly as his nose finally fit his face. The shy boy had been surprised to see the appreciative looks of several girls as he had entered the train. He didn't know what that meant, and he was a little intimidated to find out.

Hermione walked around the corner and seeing Ron, waved slightly. Her smile was small and her eyes appeared worried. She had tied her hair back in a twist and she had on her robes already. The dark black of the robes made her appear smaller and thinner than last year. Or maybe, Ron thought, she was thinner than before. She looked like she had gotten a little taller and more womanly over the summer. Her manner seemed less gawky and coltish. Almost graceful, Ron thought surprised. He could see the beauty she was becoming. She was so delicate and tiny, it was hard to remember this was the girl who screamed at him for ten whole minutes when he accidentally singed Crookshanks' tail with firecrackers. He was sure they would have shot OFF the cat for the display and not stayed tied on its fuzzy tail. He couldn't help but grin about that recollection. His smile faded as he stared at the quiet and worried young woman. Ron couldn't be sure, but she didn't look too happy to be here.

“Hullo.” Her voice had a sense of forced cheer and it only served to highlight her overall anxious demeanor.

“Seen Harry, yet?” She asked not really wanting to know.

“No. You all right, `Mione?” He was looking at her closely.

“I'm just fine, Ronald. Settle down. How's your brain?”

She saw his concern and it touched her a little. Not many things pulled her back from the self-imposed fog she had been living in. Her sincere question after his health made Ron's eyes roll and remember similar questions asked incessantly by his irritating brothers.

“My brain is fine, thank you very much, Ms. Granger. You didn't look too bloody good after that fight, either! Just please, don't do any brain jokes. My brothers have completely driven me spare this summer!” he laughed but then sputtered to an embarrassed stop when she sat down and was staring out the window. That was definitely not Hermione, Ron thought. Merlin, what was wrong with her?

Harry heard Ron's laugh down the corridor and he winced a little in anticipation of their meeting. He knew he had royally messed things up as usual. Why couldn't he just do things right for a change? Harry contemplated running for just a second. He realized he was just putting off the inevitable so he trudged down the slightly dirty hallway until he was right behind the taller red-headed boy.

“Oy, Ron.”

Ron's head seemed to swivel faster than the rest of his body as he jumped at the voice of his friend. Harry's dark shaggy hair and lightning scar looked the same as always. He was taller, broader and a little quieter, but still the same Harry. It was hard for Ron to even think that the three of them were really growing up. There were times during the fights with Death Eaters and Voldemort that believing they would live to sixteen was almost laughable.

Ron nonchalantly leaned slowly against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't going to make this easy for him. It had really hurt the way Harry had pushed him away like that. They had endured so much together and Harry just shut him out. Not to mention that Howler. That was going to take a lot of explaining.

“Um. Well. Sorry about that.” Harry sounded a lot like Hagrid.

Ron blinked. Suddenly he couldn't help laughing. He slapped his mate on the back and shook his head rolling his eyes.

“Just don't be such a stupid prat again, eh? Sending me a howler! What were you thinking!?” Ron shoved Harry into the cabin and imperiously motioned for the trolley lady to bring the cakes and candies.

Harry smiled slightly. For once Ron made it easy. He reached into his robes and pulled out a few coins to pay the witch who carried the enormous platter of wizarding candies.

“Tradition is so great!” Ron said through a mouth full of pumpkin pasties.

“So then, Pax?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Pax, Harry. I'll get you back at some point. I don't have the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes as brothers for nothing.” Ron smirked at Harry's mock expression of worry hiding his true sense of relief.

Harry had settled his things and then noticed Hermione staring out the window in the corner. She hadn't even noticed his entrance to the train car. She must really not care. His eyes furtively flashed her direction. She looked tired. What was it about her that made him hurt inside when she was mad? Even her funning scolds made him wince a little. Hermione was so small and yet so strong. Harry couldn't help but admire so much about her.

She hates me. His face fell with the knowledge of her apparent feelings.

If only I had kept her from being hurt. She could have died! There is no way she'd forgive me now.

It was amazing that Ron had so understood, but that was Ron for you. Hermione was a bit of a mystery. Well, the way girls think in general befuddled him. This proved to him that she must hate him after all. That thought ripped at his heart and he could feel his whole body clenching up to hold back the emotions. Harry turned his body and forced himself to stare out the window until he could deal with the hollow feeling inside.

Ron chewed thoughtfully as he saw both his best friends pull into themselves. The emotions in the room reminded him of the Dementors that were allowed on the train third year. He sighed softly. This was going to be a long trip.

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5. Life Lessons

Chapter 5

Life Lessons

Ron eventually slipped out of the cabin to escape the oppressive atmosphere.

Those two were going to drive him insane! He thought.

Shaking off the depression he stalked off to find Neville and maybe a game of exploding snap before the Prefect meeting began. There were several fifth year girls that were showing definite promise as well. They might need a little Weasley pick me up. He did have a Family Reputation to uphold after all.

Hermione had fallen asleep with one hand curled under her head. She had huddled her body into a ball and uncomfortably leaned against the darkening glass as the day slowly fell into dusk. The rumbling action of the engines soothed into drowsy slumber. After Ron left, Harry couldn't help dozing as well. He slipped off into the first good sleep he'd had in a long time.

The train came to a faltering halt some hours later. Ron was surprised that Hermione had skived off the prefect meeting. Usually she was the one with quill in hand to take notes and bring up her new ideas. Last year alone they had to fight her back to keep the meeting down to two hours.

Ron joked around with the other prefects after the meeting. He was so glad he had older brothers. The pointers from Bill had certainly helped today! Bill made it all seem so easy. Ron would never tell any of his mates that he asked for girl advice from his older brother, but he wasn't going to be the gibbering mess he had been for so long.

Maybe with a kick in the pants, he thought, I might even ask Hermione out.

He grinned but then gulped hard when he actually thought about doing it.

The girl in question woke up to the sharp sound of the train whistle calling all stop. The carriage stuttered in place as the brakes slowed the Express to a halt. She noticed Harry still asleep in the corner. She had seen him come in but didn't know what to say so she faked being asleep. After a while she really did nap, and got some much needed rest. She felt better than she had felt in a while. Quietly, she grabbed her travel bag and slid out of the compartment so as not to wake the slightly rumpled boy. She knew she had missed the prefect meeting, but in reality she didn't care. It seemed so trivial compared to all that they had lived through. She was unsure what her role could be now. Was she some kind of freedom fighter or was she a petty tyrant hall monitor that handed out detentions in class? Those two people couldn't possibly be the same person.

She stumbled a little with her bag and followed the queue to the trunk pick-up and carriages. Ron, Luna and Neville greeted her with big waves and motioned for her to stop and ride with them.

“Where's Harry?” Ron asked looking over her shoulder expecting him to be following.

“He was asleep. I..I guess I should have woken him, shouldn't I?” Hermione said miserably.

Ron looked at her questioningly and dashed off to get his friend off the train. Luna and Neville exchanged glances that asked what was going on but both responded with shrugs. Neville got a few jokes about his new physique from Seamus who was passing on another carriage but held up admirably with a shy grin and his good nature.

Harry had been awake when Hermione had left. And he was a little miffed she hadn't tried to talk to him at all. He had just gathered his things together at the side of the train and was directing his trunk with a locomotor spell. It was good to be able to use his wand again! Next summer he would reach seventeen and be considered an adult and would never have to deal with the decree for underage magic again! Memories of the hearing last year in front of the Wisengamot were enough to give him the chills again. Ron caught up to Harry and grabbed the other end of the trunk and pushed it on its way.

“Come on, Harry. Everyone's waiting for you. The trunks know where to go. The house elves charm them once the train stops. Come on!” Ron dragged at his friend who had one arm in and one arm out of his robes as he tried to stuff them on while being pulled. Ron laughed and infectiously made Harry grin in response.

The group of teenagers gathered around one carriage and the boys magnanimously allowed the girls to get in first. When they were all settled they leaned into the soft cushy seats. The comfort of knowing they were on their way back to Hogwarts made every one of them pleasantly excited. All except Hermione. She had been holding her breath and her expression caused everyone to stare at her.

“The Threstrals are still invisible.” She whispered softly. Harry's breath slid out in one huff.

“You haven't seen anyone die, yet.” Harry explained simply.

“Yet.” Hermione burst into tears.

The boys didn't know what to do. Neville looked wildly about for a handkerchief he knew his Gran had forced on him before the train. Ron did his best to ignore her but was failing miserably. He eyes were wildly trying to land anywhere but on the crying girl. Harry reached over and picked up the small linen square that Ron had apparently sat on and handed it to the weeping girl.

“It's alright, Hermione.” He said gruffly.

“They're not much to look at, really. The crumple-horned snorkak looks similar in color, but Thestrals aren't really that lizard-like, are they?” Luna said to no one in particular.

Neville stared at Luna and agreed nervously completely unsure what a Crumple-Horned Snorkak could be. The carriages pulled up to the gate and let the sixth years off before bringing the last line of carriages carrying the seventh years. Luna took Hermione's hand and officiously led her off away from the boys and into the castle. The immensely relieved three boys left behind walked more slowly taking their time before entering the large stone building. Neville chatted about his summer interning at the New Magi Garden Center leaving Harry and Ron to grin at each other in amusement. They couldn't see the joys of dealing with man eating flora or stink-sap throwing plants, but it was good to see how excited Neville had become about it.

They wandered up the stairs to the Great Hall and settled in for the Hat's yearly song before it chose the houses for the intimidated little first years. Wide-eyed children in fresh new robes lined up against the teachers' table and awaited the pronouncement that would determine so much of who they would become. The Great Hall's ceiling was full of scattered stars reflecting a beautiful full moon dipped lightly in cherry sauce. Each new child's face was filled with the wonder and excitement of starting at Hogwarts. Harry watched their faces and smiled as he remembered the same exact feeling.

Professor McGonagall strode up to the podium carrying the frayed and wrinkled tall brown hat. It sat very still on the three-legged stool as all the students gave it their attention. Slowly it began to hum and sway as if taking it's time before choosing its words for the New Year song.

“It seems each year I take the time

To tell to you all a special rhyme.

A story about the needs of all

To share the burden or you will fall.

By now it may be time to share

The tragedies of a certain pair.

Of Grindlewald and Dumbledore

Of fighting and a cause of War.

For Grindlewald was sly and cunning

He hurt his partner who thought him funning.

Fast friends were they but fortunes bore

A break in harmony, trust and more.

Purity, tradition and power sought

So with hearts fallen heavy war was fought.

It took each house and special talents

To keep our world from losing balance.

For Dumbledore was just one man

Still a boy he did much to save our land.

But many died to keep our ways

And few thought all would forget those days.

But time did pass and thoughts grew dim

And others sought to become like him.

So look to each other and be prepared too

Each house has a need and a skill to do.

Be careful your friends

Be sure your house mends.

For good can lose

Look to how the tale ends.”

The room thundered with polite applause settling down with the Professors waving hands. She nodded briskly at a small boy and announced his name as Adams, Gregory before setting the hat firmly over his brow.

Several children later and after Young, Beverly had been sorted into Hufflepuff; a hungry and rowdy school began to enjoy their feast.

Harry laughed as he watched Ron pile a huge plate of fried pies and drumsticks. He was trying to also eat a pumpkin pasty without allowing everything to fall into his lap. Harry reveled in the huge offerings of food. There were more bowls and tureens than he could possibly attempt. They ate until nothing more could be forced into their mouths. A blissful contented feeling fell over them all and the warmth of the Great Hall fireplaces made them drowsy as they waited for Dumbledore's first of term announcements.

The sight of the grey-bearded wizard sent Harry's stomach plummeting. He had forgotten about how he needed to talk to the Headmaster about the Dursley's pronouncement that he was never welcome back to Number Four Privet Drive. The knowledge that the man he looked up to so much was going to become upset with him made everything he had eaten turn sour inside him.

Dumbledore was going to be so disappointed. That was a sight worse than anything Vernon Dursley had ever done to him. Harry would rather take a sprained shoulder or busted lip over seeing the usually twinkling eyes of the Headmaster turn to anger or dissatisfaction.

He leaned forward and slumped down behind the still eating figure of Seamus Finnegan. It would be better not to call attention to himself right now, he thought. He caught sight of Hermione who had slid in the back row and was picking at her food with disinterest. She looked better now than when she had been crying, but Harry had never dealt well with the sight of a girl crying. He had no idea what to do. Cho had terrified him last year with her perpetual tears. He was glad she had started to see Michael Corner and he had escaped her daily emotional breakdowns. Not that he hadn't appreciated seeing her. Not to mention kissing her. That had been smashing. Maybe you have to deal with one thing to get the other. Harry wasn't quite sure that it was worth it. He looked over at the Ravenclaw table and noticed the shiny black hair of a certain girl. No, well. Maybe it was.

Everyone at the table stood up and started moving out toward the door before Harry knew they had been dismissed. He had completely missed whatever it was Dumbledore had announced. Oh, Well. He would ask Neville later. They were all tired from the journey but still overly worked up about being back with their friends and at Hogwarts. That extra energy led to several raids up the girls'staircase sending off the alarms to the delight of all their inhabitants. Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes had made brisk business as well. Wafts of sparkle glitter had drifted across the room from the remains of several firecracker dragons that had been let off by two overachieving third years. The firecrackers weren't so bad, but the glitter settled on each entrant to the Gryffindor Common Room and caused them all to break into dance. Not any particular dance, however, as several couples were found waltzing around a set of first years doing the hustle.

Ron tried to confiscate the remaining packet of crackers, but every time he tried to grab them, the package shouted, “So sorry, Ronnikins!” and slid out of his hands. He was going to kill his brothers, Fred and George. They actually sold the Gryffindors some Anti-Prefect contraband specific to him. Ron tried to get help from Hermione, but she had her own hands full of first years wandering around the dorms unsure of which rooms were theirs and almost in tears. First Night was always a little trying for the eleven-year-olds who had never slept away from home. She trundled them all off sniffling into their sleeves to the appropriate beds and slipped into her own room before Ron could force her to deal with anything else. She couldn't tell anyone, but she felt exactly like those first years. She wanted to curl up in the corner and cry for her mum.

Several days passed and all the students fell into the old pattern of classes. Hermione had gotten into the habit of slipping upstairs as soon as lessons ended so she didn't have to deal with any of the rowdier students and their pranks. That left a very harassed Ron trying to keep the full Gryffindor dorms from going completely out of control. It wasn't long before Ron figured out what she was doing. It wasn't like her to shirk her prefect duties like this but he didn't care what was going on with her, he desperately needed help. When he did catch her in Transfiguration she would promise to be more helpful, but would still be missing when he returned to the dorm each night. It almost seemed like she was hiding from him.

“Those two stupid bloody gits Jervis and Bartley are driving me spare! I truly believe they have some underground connection with my brothers just to send me around the bend!” Ron growled.

He was playing a very aggressive game of Wizard's Chess with a worried and sweating Neville as Harry sat in a comfy chair in the corner next to the crackling fire. Harry was startled out of his reverie by Ron's pronouncement and the yell of the Black chessmen as they trounced Neville last horseman.

Harry shook his head and tried to focus on the game in front of him. He still hadn't made it to the Headmaster to confess, and it was eating at him a little more each day. It had been over a week since the Feast and he had been ducking around corners every time he caught sight of the Headmaster. Not exactly Gryffindor behavior, he scolded himself miserably.

Inside the library Hermione was re-reading her chapter assignment. This was the second time she had read it without anything sinking in. She had been hiding from Ron and any other Gryffindor just so she wouldn't have to deal with any of their petty disagreements. It had been a week, and she was getting lonely. She had a sneaking suspicion that Ron wanted to ask her out. He never said anything, but he would grow very red around the ears whenever they were alone and he acted as if he wanted to say something. Nothing every came out as the boy would stutter and gawk as his voice broke, and they ended up staring uncomfortably at each other until one of them fled. It didn't lend itself to good friendly conversation. She had considered dating Ron before, but he always ended up saying something so completely rude that Hermione most usually ended up angry and storming off. The girl knew they would end up killing each other if they ever tried to be romantic. She was sure he hadn't figured it out yet, but hopefully she could let him down gently without having to bash his head in.

She slid her hand into her left pocket and pulled out a round shiny ball about the size of a walnut that secreted inside was a miniature castle much similar to Hogwarts. She had picked it up while in the Department of Mysteries last spring. She knew she should have given it back to the Ministry, but it had been under the desk where she had hidden during part of the fight and it looked like it had been there for some time. It panged her to know she had stolen something, but this little token helped her believe that everything that happened had been real. She hadn't dreamed it. She wasn't going crazy. She would take the small object out and examine it whenever no one was looking. It was so like a tiny Hogwarts that she could almost imagine minuscule students tromping here and there around the grounds. A few things were different, like the additional wing in the back and the greenhouses were missing, but other than that, they appeared the same.

She had created herself a nest. Hermione had created a place all her own that was silent, lonely and undisturbed. Surrounding herself with books and texts piled up one on top of the other to give her a sense of privacy, she hid from her problems and mired herself in study. No one bothered her in the library so she spent as much time as she could there. She was robotically rolling the ball around in her hand when Fawkes flew in over the books and settled on her shoulder with a flutter. He was holding a small bag full of lemon drops and a card that stated:

Meeting with headmaster, 3:15.

She glanced at her watch and noticed it was already 3:14. She reached for the delicately bound bag of sweets when a hook behind her navel pulled at her and with a pop she found herself thrown into an overstuffed chintz wingchair facing Headmaster Dumbledore.

“Miss Granger, right on time, I see.” He smiled as if surprised and delighted to find her there.

“Pro..Professor…I mean, Headmaster…um…hello.” She swallowed convulsively and coughed for a moment.

“I realize this is a little out of the ordinary, but I wasn't sure you'd choose to make our meeting. Sometimes one must push one's friends in a direction they'd rather not go, don't you agree Miss Granger?”

She realized that he hadn't missed her skulking behavior at all. Hermione wondered how he knew what went on in the Gryffindor Dorms, but decided she'd really rather not know. Actually, even the portkey he had employed wasn't supposed to work at Hogwarts. Somehow the Headmaster had secrets even Hogwarts, A History didn't know.

It was actually nice to realize that someone had been paying attention after all. Her parents hadn't noticed. Harry and Ron didn't want to talk to her. It comforted her greatly to know Dumbledore saw and cared so much. She had to subtly wipe her eyes to clear them.

“Maybe lemon drops aren't your cup of tea, my dear. How about a string of licorice? I favor the Red Vines myself. An old friend always loved the lemon drops, and I offer them out of habit.” He pulled out a small packet of red twisted licorice, handed them to her and smiled with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Strawberry or Cherry?” He grinned causing his beard to fluff in place.

Hermione couldn't help but smile tremulously back. Dumbledore was such a consolation. Just being in his office made her feel warm, loved and no longer alone. Why had she tried to hide for so long? She sighed softly and settled back into the squidgy chair.

“I've had Fawkes bring you here for a discussion. I want you to feel perfectly free to interject any of your thoughts. You have been known to have excellent ideas that have led to many well executed plans. I have need of a plan maker. I have need of you, Miss Granger.”

Hermione was surprised he was asking for her help and not giving her a talk about responsibility and how she had disappointed him.

“I need you to talk to Harry.”

Those words made her suddenly feel terrible. Talking to Harry meant accepting so many things. She'd have to accept that their friendship meant they were always in danger. She'd have to become that person who was never afraid and always willing to fight. Why didn't anyone realize they were still children?

“There is a need for Harry. And for you. And for all of my `army'.” He paused to smile softly at her. “ I don't know how to make this any easier.” He stood up restlessly and walked over to Fawke's perch where the bird had settled upon arrival.

“I want you to know that I do understand. We are not dissimilar, my dear. Just like our very interesting Sorting Hat conveyed; these times are a repetition of a dark time from before. I fear I am become too old for this struggle. Poor Harry must carry the mantle that I once wore. So much depends on him and the strength of his friends to carry him forward.”

She was startled by the intensity of his words. He usually acted silly and playful, but everything he said was spoken in absolute intensity.

“This is your story, and your era. The prophesy spoke of Harry and Voldemort. Not me. I am afraid my usefulness is limited to what I can teach you here in this revered school. I take that occupation quite seriously.” He smiled slightly to soften his words as she was startled by his use of Voldemort's name and not the suggestion of `You-Know-Who'.

“Yes, of course, Headmaster. I will help Harry however he needs me.” She nodded seriously but wondered how to make that come about.

“Of course, you will, my dear.” He patted her hand and wandered back to his desk and sat for a moment contemplating a spinning globe that lit up with sparkling flashes.

“I thought you had called me in here because I hadn't been fulfilling my role as Prefect.” She hated to bring it up, but it didn't feel right not to confess.

“Yes, dear. Wasn't that part of what we were talking about?” She looked confused but waited patiently.

“What I wanted to say, my dear, was we have a need to fulfill many roles that sometimes feel hard or difficult to do. Your Prefect duties are sometimes more of a hardship than a privilege. Many students don't understand that and tend to be jealous of the position. We both know it isn't all that enjoyable, is it?”

She managed a tremulous grin and had to look down from his very understanding eyes.

“The Prefects do more than just give out demerits and break up couples in the Astronomy Tower. Yes, I know all about that Trysting Tower. I was a student here once myself, girl!” He laughed at her shocked expression and harrumphed to get settled back down.

“The Prefects, along with the Teachers and the Headmaster, all form a unit to give these children a sense of security. We give them structure, guidance and love that they miss from their own parents. They are here to become Wizards. That is a miraculous and dangerous job for all of us, just ask Madame Pomfrey.” He chuckled.

“But it is important. This school does more than that, I hope. We wish to instill an understanding that Good, though more difficult a path, is worth the struggle. So much of our world has become corrupted. We are the last bastion of hope for the next generation. Without this small school, many children would be left to turn towards the Darkness of Dark Magic and self-destruction. Look at what so many of the other schools have turned into.” Hermione couldn't help but remember Durmstrang and the dark arts that were taught there.

“I think I understand, Professor.” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. It was time to grow up. There had to be a stand, and this was where it was going to happen. Even little things like giving up on her duties as Prefect made a difference in the fight against Evil. What she did for the children under her was in its own way extremely important. A feeling of determination flooded through her. She had been afraid for so long. It wasn't that she was no longer scared, but now she understood there was a reason to be brave. For being considered such a clever witch, she sometimes felt extremely foolish.

“Thank you, sir. I won't let you down.” She felt like laughing. So much weight had left her shoulders. It was harder to be afraid and indecisive than to take a stand and move on it. She had a lot to make up with her duties, and she pitied the poor soul who was the first to be caught when she came back to the Common Room. She giggled to herself and excused herself from the Headmaster as she tripped down the stairs to Gryffindor Tower chewing her licorice with relish.

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6. Friend or Foe

Disclaimer:

Everything Harry Potter belongs to the great JK Rowling, and I have no personal gain from any of this. Sad but true.

Chapter 6

Friend or Foe

Hermione sat down onto the common room sofa with a heavy huff. It had been several days since her talk with the Headmaster and she had had a tough time getting everyone to get back under control. Jervy or was it Barkley? It didn't matter. Both of their names were now decidedly on her hit list. They had taken her new mission and attitude as a personal affront and were targeting her daily with pranks. She had finally removed the charm that had sealed her in her dorm room and was infuriated with the two boys.

She had absently threaded several quills up into her hair to pull it out of her face while she had been reviewing her homework schedule for the term. A couple of first year giggled at her severe look until her focused scowl shut them up. The feather quills were sticking up giving her the appearance of a wild-haired Indian. At this point in the day she didn't care.

Lessons had ended badly with double potions and the usual sniping from Snape had made the day almost unendurable. How was it he could always find the snarkiest insults that would set her nerves on edge? Harry still hadn't said much beyond monosyllables to her in a week. She didn't know what to do about him. The thought of her best friend walking around her as if she wasn't there was driving her spare. Her lips pursed tightly and she angrily rubbed the palms of her hands into her eyes to thrust away her emotional need to cry.

Hermione was glad she had finally gotten through the depression she had been under and had vigorously reset herself back on track. She had purposely made the decision to not let anything get to her; or at least show that it was getting to her. Not even Draco Malfoy with his filthy mouth would crack her newly stoic exterior.

She fervently wanted to put all that childishness behind her. Who cared if every time Malfoy spoke she wanted to pound his face into the ground? Just the memory of third year and the emotional thrill she got when she had slugged Draco made her sigh with pleasure. But this year had to be different. She was going to be the better person. She had so many more important things to think about than his stupid name-calling or insult baiting. He had gotten particularly good at throwing a nasty comment while coming off appearing the victim.

Maybe Malfoy had been taking lessons from Snape. The thought made her snort.

She had more important things to think about. Like Harry. Dumbledore's request sat heavily on her mind as she thought over what the gentle headmaster had said. Her brows crinkled into a pucker and she bit her lower lip in concentration. Harry had drifted in and out of sight not really connecting with anyone but Ron since school had begun. He had spent the summer alone in his room rather than leave when the Weasley's offered to take him on his birthday like they had every summer. Tonks had told her this in confidence when she dropped by one day since neither Ron nor Harry had bothered to tell her about their row. Hermione felt completely cut off from her friends. They had basically stopped even speaking to her. She was used to that from Ron when they fought, but not from Harry. He would have tried to work it out at least. Maybe he didn't really care after all. She missed him desperately.

The bushy-haired girl sniffled a little and drew her legs up underneath her robes. Hugging herself tightly she wished for a life where none of the horrors the three of them had experienced had ever happened.

Or, she thought, at least where they could be forgotten.

Crookshanks her ginger-colored cat pounced playfully at her fingers to get her attention. She smiled softly and ruffled his fur backwards making the fluffball rumble in pleasure. The peach-fuzzed face jumped quickly up into her neck and settled in with a purr.

“You're such a sweet thing, Crooks. You'd never be mad at me for anything, would you, hum?” Her hand's rubbing caused the cat to snuggle in close and somehow in the way of cats fall immediately asleep.

The entrance to the common room opened with the sound of loud, strident voices. Ron was shouting and gesturing with his arms waving wildly about as if he had to explicate his argument physically as well as vocally.

“Of course you are the seeker! Ginny is fine with the chaser position now that Alicia has left Hogwarts after graduation. Are you saying you think Umbridge's ban can possibly still be enforced?” Ron stuttered to a fanatical stop.

Harry had slid into the room silently and leaned against the cold stone wall. A painting of Wizard Knights of Ancient Briton had to shift over a little across the wall to make room for the sullen boy and the painted Hogwarts ancestor looked decidedly grumpy about it as they waved their tiny swords his direction before pushing the frame out of his way.

Harry ran his hands slowly through his hair, messing it up even worse than usual. Hermione slithered farther down the couch so that neither boy knew she was there. This was a new fight.

When had Harry decided to give up on Quidditch? She would have bet all her savings that flying again would have been just the ticket to re-animate her friend. Apparently his depression over his Godfather's death had not lessened at all.

She was so tired of all the fighting. It seemed that all they ever did was scream at each other. It was infuriating.

“Why is it always so hard?” she questioned herself angrily.

Too many people have been hurt. Too many people had died! She was sick to death of it. Even the passing of Sirius had been so heavy to hold. She had mourned the loss of Harry's godfather as much as Harry had, though in a different way. Hermione and Ron had known the animagus for as long as Harry had. Their furtive communications to “Snuffles” had always made the older man somehow more approachable than other people in their lives. So much of their adventures had included him. Harry, however, had clung to the dream of finally having a family that cared for him; even if it was a broken prison escapee with few friends and even fewer opportunities. With the death of the animagus, Harry's hope died with him.

“Just let it go, Ron.” The girl surprised herself as she spoke loudly and clearly from the sofa.

Both the boys jerked their heads to the sound of her voice.

“It won't bring him back, Harry, but if you think punishing yourself more will make you feel better, then just go ahead and wallow in it!” She stood up suddenly toppling the cat from her lap and found herself start to shake with the emotional overload she had been forced to deal with over the past few days.

Ron's mouth dropped open and his eyes darted quickly between the now angry girl and his friend. He had never seen her so angry before and he had been around for some exceptional Hermione tirades.

Harry's eyes narrowed in fury and self-righteous anger.

She doesn't know what she's saying! No one understands!

He leaned forward bouncing on his toes as if to launch himself at the shaking girl.

“What do you mean? How can you even say that!?” He exploded with eyes slitting menacingly.

Her hands flew to her hips and with brown flashing eyes she growled her pent up anger and frustration. Stoking the indignation that pushed her to use words that she would have never considered proper before today she lit into him verbally.

“We don't need you to sulk anymore. I am so sorry that your childhood sucked, but you're not a child anymore! You may or may not have noticed, Harry, but it's not all about you anymore.”

Ron's mouth opened and closed in horror as his head continued to swivel back and forth.

“Now Hermione…” the taller boy began to stutter.

The common room had grown unpleasantly quiet. An exploding snap game had stopped mid-air and the incessant chatter of the second year girls in the corner abruptly turned into a hiss of disbelief.

Harry stared at his friend with her disheveled hair and heated eyes. So many furious retorts bottled up behind his throat that he could barely hiss through his teeth.

“What do you know of my childhood, Hermione? You've never been there have you! You never had to go a week without food or find yourself boxed into a dark dirty closet for days on end!” His breath came in fast high pulls as he revealed much more than he ever meant to.

Hermione's eyes widened in horror and tears quickly pooled in shocked empathy. She never knew it was like that. The Dursley's were bad she knew, but to abuse Harry like that…She gasped trying to hold back the flood of animosity toward his guardians and the crushing guilt she felt for not seeing Harry's pain before.

Harry however had built himself up into a rage. He couldn't stop his body from shaking. Almost blinded by his anger he stopped seeing his friend and could only feel his fury and the bottomless envy of the life he knew all his friends took for granted.

“You've never seen it, have you? You can't tell me you never saw the bruises or noticed I would drop weight just over the summer vacation!” He sputtered wildly.

“Hell! You had your perfect parents and your happy little family vacations and so why think anything about your friend who has to try to survive on the little bits of cake he has to portion out every day to survive that his REAL friends,” he gestured at Ron,” at least think to send him!”

Hermione's eyes looked shattered. The boy seemed to shrink down a little and his breath came in sharp bursts. His hands kept clenching into fists and he rolled them up and down his thighs as if to keep himself from hitting someone.

The room was deathly quiet. No one could dare speak. Harry had never spoken a word about how truly horrendous his life at Privet Drive had been. Hermione wondered if even Dumbledore had known he gave The-boy-who-lived to real-life monsters every time he left the train station. Her thoughts of Dumbledore gave her pause. Dumbledore had looked so sad when they spoke in his office the few days ago. If he didn't know about this the girl knew it would devastate the quiet gentle wizard. So many things weighed heavily on the shoulders of the old man. Students and the wizarding world alike turned to the Headmaster and expected so much. It was hard for him to be held to such expectations, but the kind old gentleman embraced the worries with a twinkle in his eye and a wry laugh on his lips. This was what he had been trying to tell her. He knew everything about Harry. He had left him there for a reason. The choices the headmaster must have had to make would have broken any lesser man.

She gathered her breath and tried to shove the tears away. Hermione knew this was the moment to which the Headmaster had been hinting. This was really going to hurt.

“I'm sorry, Harry. Really. But I'm still right.” Several people gasped at her harshness.

The room seemed to fall in temperature and the chill traveled up her spine leaving her feeling very, very alone.

Her voice lowered and she faltered a bit. “We don't have time to be children anymore.”

She paused and looked at him very hard. “This is a WAR!”

Her vehemence startled Ron whose expression had clouded in worry. “Now Hermione, you can't expect…”

“Shut up Ron.” Harry hissed through his teeth without taking his eyes off the girl.

Hermione hugged herself as if she would never be warm again. “We are at war, Harry. Think about it. And for some INSANE reason, you're IT! You are the leader. Or the target, or whatever, but you are what is driving this defense of what is good and necessary to keep our world alive.”

“Think about it Harry. A sixteen-year-old half trained teenage boy up against one of the most evil and powerful wizard our world has ever seen. A man who has cheated death and murdered hundreds of wizards. You don't have the luxury of feeling sorry for yourself anymore. Do you think Voldemort will patiently wait for you to work your way thorough your issues? No one here is untouched by the evil, Harry. NO one.”

Her hands had unclenched and had jerked out to include all of the young people in the room. Her eyes scanned over children who had lost brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers in this war against evil.

Harry growled low in his throat with a threat that sent Hermione a step back.

“I …DON'T…WANT…THIS!” the scream ripped from deep inside his body. The room shook and two of the topmost stained glass windows shattered instantly.

No one dared say a word. The silence stretched across the room like a curse. Only the tinkling sound of the shattered bits of glass falling could be heard.

Silence settled around the two figures as they stared at each other as if they had never seen each other before.

She turned to him opening her hands palm forward to him as if he was a wild animal and she had to move toward him carefully.

“It is time for you to be a man, Harry. We need you to be.” Tears slid noiselessly down her face. She stepped right up to his shaking body and raised her hand to touch his arm, but shaking; pulled back and wrapped her hand tightly together in a prayerful attitude.

“I need you, Harry.” She whispered low only loud enough for Harry; and then fled upstairs and out of sight.

Author's Notes:

Thank you so much for reviewing! I have more chapters already written, just editing and parsing a few phrases…If you review I get happy feelings which FORCE me to upload more quickly..

Thought you should know.

PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!

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7. Low Blows

Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter. J.K.Rowling has nothing to fear from me.

Chapter 7

Low blows

Today was a day that Harry truly wished he was at St. Brutus' School for Hopelessly Criminal Boys. Then all he'd ever have to deal with would be learning how to hot wire stolen cars and trying not to get beaten to death every day by goons like Dudley. A shadow of a grin passed over his face. He had skived off History of Magic knowing Professor Binns would never notice. The out of doors called to him with a siren's song. It was a delicious fall day with clear skies and just a hint of coolness in the breeze. Perfect flying weather. Perfect Quidditch weather, too. The thought of Quidditch made his stomach knot up. He still hadn't decided if he was going to play Seeker again or not. Hermione's harshly flung words about his “sulking” had struck a nerve.

He couldn't believe he didn't get detention for breaking the windows. Professor McGonagall had shown up just after Hermione had bolted. The older woman merely pursed her lips at the destruction then charmed the glass back in place with a swishing “Reparo.” Then she left just as suddenly as she had appeared. When the moment that held everyone in frozen place had passed the room emptied out like a ghost town. Only Ron and Harry had been left in the room staring at each other.

Harry had pushed himself out the picture hold without even stopping to hear what Ron was trying to say. He had to get out of there.

Three days had passed and Hermione wouldn't even look at him. Ron didn't look too pleased with Harry much either.

“Be a man, she says.”

He was still wincing from that lashing. He'd been rounded before by his friend when he and Ron had put off revisions or teased a first year unmercifully. This was different. Hands shoved into pockets he walked stiffly toward the Quidditch pitch. Somehow since the last time he had seen her at the department of Mysteries she had changed.

Harry had seen Hermione off and on the past fortnight since term had begun, but it was more like a blur. Worried expressions and vague memories of pleading conversations rolled through his head.

Merlin, he missed Sirius! If it had been Ron, he could have thrown a few punches and gotten a black eye or busted lip for his anger. Everything would have been fine after that. Girls just didn't know how to fight.

But Hermione! He could barely believe the violence he felt towards her. He had been shaking with the need to push her down or to do anything just to shut her up. That was what scared him the most. That he could possible want to hurt one of the closest people in his life made him nauseous. Was he somehow like his Uncle Vernon after all? Was he so like the man who would punch little boys or throw a four year old in a closet?

He was still skinny. But age and Quidditch had broadened his shoulders and he had gained several inches over the summer despite the lack of nutrition. He could actually look his uncle in the eye now. In many ways Harry realized he had crossed a threshold between childhood and adulthood.

The Dursley's had packed up and said they were taking an extended stay on vacation. Harry had no idea where they went. All he knew was the house was empty and he had been blissfully alone. That was all he wanted anyway. They didn't leave him any food, but he wasn't that hungry, anyway. He had enough Muggle money taken from Dudley's stash that he pretty much had delivery pizza every few days and ate cold slices whenever the urge hit him.

On the day of the Hogwarts Express when Mr. Weasley showed up at the door and briskly herded Harry and all his belongings together and took him to the train; Harry had secretly hoped he could just miss the train and everyone would slowly forget about him. In a daze, Harry followed the kind fatherly man's directions and found himself pushing his trolley and his owl through the stone barrier.

The memories of the past two weeks blurred past his mind leaving him swirled in guilt and fog. He had been distancing himself from everyone who cared about him. It had seemed easier at the time. However, if he ended up in fights with all his friends like the one he just had with Hermione, then maybe he had better try to be more aware of what's going on!

Hermione.

“I need you.” She had said. It was so forlorn and vulnerable. Knowing the strong-willed and self-sufficient girl had said such a thing made it so much more poignant. With Hermione and how emotional she was after their fight, he knew she had probably spent the rest of the evening crying her eyes out. His whole body cringed to know he had hurt her.

“I didn't ask for any of this!” He yelled aloud scuffing dirt with his feet as he walked.

“Whinging on again, Potter?” Malfoy drawled. The tall blond Slytherin had been leaning against the Broom shed watching several of his house team beat each other senseless with bludgers.

“Sod Off, Malfoy.” Harry winced at being overheard talking to himself.

“Oh? Is the little Potty boy still sad?” Draco's eyes narrowed angrily. He pushed himself off from the wall and walked menacingly over to his green-eyed nemesis.

“You're meddling got my father sent to Askaban! My mother cried for a month! I can't stand that my father is gone and you show up here as if you own the place! With that stupid Dumble Dunce dancing to your every whim! Though I heard your little mudblood girlfriend roughed you up a little recently. I presume you have to take it where you can get it, right Potter? I guess maybe she'll put out for the boy-who-cried.” He sneered.

Harry's fist connected with Malfoy's nose before Draco could even blink. The dark haired boy launched himself and knocked the Slytherin roughly to the ground. Draco spluttered in anger spitting blood and epithets equally. Grunts and sounds of pain came from both boys as they shoved and threw punches landing on each other's face and body. Malfoy growled low in his throat and rolled Harry off with a well practiced move. Laughing maliciously, Draco carelessly wiped blood off his chin and whipped out his wand.

They circled each other warily as they tried to sense a break in which to attack. Malfoy's grey eyes narrowed and he attacked with a move that Harry didn't even see coming. Draco whirled around quickly knocking Harry's legs out from under him. With a grunt, the Gryffindor rolled away just missing a vicious kick intended for his face. Malfoy wasn't pulling any punches. Harry could see the anger and malice in Draco Malfoy's eyes and he knew this was going to get nasty. Harry had seen this wild look in Vernon Dursley's eyes many times before. This time, however, Harry was sure he could fight back. Something inside him was joyous in the idea of hurting someone he hated and his mouth turned up slightly as he threw himself full force into the boy in front of him.

Harry spun just in time to miss a curse by inches. He swung his arm in a broad arc and knocked the boy back to the ground. Harry threw another punch that connected hard with Malfoy's nose making a sickeningly wet and crunching sound. This time it was Harry who smiled maliciously.

Draco hissed in pain and angrily grabbed his wand up from the ground where he had dropped it. The Gryffindor turned to get out of the way of any shot from Malfoy's wand and ended up being viciously low kicked in the groin by the furious boy. He was going to have to remember that Draco has practiced martial arts, he thought to himself through the blinding pain that sent him crashing to the ground. A very important thing to remember.

The Slytherin had the wand nearly poking into his eye as Draco started to incant a curse before a voice behind him made him pause mid-word.

“You should see Madame Pomfrey about your face, Mr. Malfoy. I am sure that,” Professor Snape indicated the rapidly swelling and bloody nose, “is not the look you would prefer to show your housemates during dinner.”

Draco's eyes narrowed painfully as he took in the presence of his teacher then refocused on his enemy. Blood dripped slowly from a cut just above his eyebrow.

“This isn't finished, Potter. You have much to answer for.” He stalked away in a rush of black robes and muttered threats. Harry dragged himself off the ground with a groan to force himself to look the professor in the eye.

Snape leaned forward malevolently almost nose to nose with Harry Potter. The greasy-haired professor stared into the boys already slowly bruising eyes. Harry was amused to realize he was almost as tall as Snape. He had always thought of the man as towering and formidable. That thought would have made him smile if the pain in his groin and face didn't hurt so much.

“Detention for two weeks, Mr. Potter and fifty points from Gryffindor.” The professor smoothly declared.

Harry stared back at the Professor with dislike. He didn't care that Snape was with the Order. He still always took the Slytherin's side. The dark man's eyes glittered and he pursed his lips in a nasty grin. He held contact with the boy's eyes for a moment more as if daring the boy to protest then swept back into the castle.

Harry waited until the last of the black robes disappeared into the stone fortress before dropping back down in a grunt and grimace. Just like Malfoy to aim low, Harry thought. He shifted uncomfortably but couldn't find a position that would lessen the harsh throbbing pain. He fingered his left eye noting its swelling. His glasses were resting on the ground snapped in half.

Harry sighed and just gave up. He leaned his back gingerly against the broom shed and realized he actually felt better. “Well,” he thought optimistically, “at least I got to hit Malfoy.”

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Harry didn't know how long he sat there. It just seemed pleasant to lean back against the wooden wall and let the sun warm his ever tightening and swelling face. He hadn't been cut much, so what blood there was had dried thick and was starting to flake off. His fist ached throbbing where it had connected with Malfoy's bony nose. Skin was split and knuckles stung as the breeze brushed against the open wounds. Harry's face split into a twisted grin and he could feel the busted lip burn, but the release of such pent-up emotions had felt great. He had been itching to shove that prat's nose down his throat for years. Hermione was the only one who had ever gotten a clean shot in.

Harry's grin faded a little with the thought of his friend. Good thing she hadn't heard Malfoy's accusations. She would have kept Harry from beating on the little ferret and it had felt too good. No, it had felt Wonderful.

“Oclular Reparo.” The spell floated past his hands and his broken spectacles reformed into place. He looked up to see Hermione Granger leaning over him to cast her charm. Harry squinted myopically at her and could vaguely tell something was different about her. Maybe it was his black eye, but she didn't look quite as bushy as usual.

Harry turned his head around quickly so she wouldn't notice he'd been fighting. However, he couldn't help wincing as he replaced his glasses on his nose. He was going to have a lot of explaining to do to Madame Pomfrey. Too bad Malfoy had gotten there first. His version would color him blacker than was really fair. Actually, maybe not. He HAD jumped the git.

“I'm still mad at you.” The girl spoke lightly. “But anyone who punches that hard on that evil little ferret gets at least a little appreciation.”

Hermione had heard Malfoy yelling in the hallway about how Potter had attacked him. She wanted to make sure Harry didn't look as bad as Malfoy. Draco's left black eye was blooming into blues and greens with a harsh cut above the other eye. It looked like the Slytherin gave as well as he received, however. Harry's eyes were both swelling and a grinning busted lip looked painful.

She closed her eyes and leaned back on her elbows to let her face enjoy the warmth of the fading summer sun. She pulled off her over robes and stretched out in her summer things that she had changed into once classes were over for the day.

Harry smiled slightly at how she didn't even mention their past disagreement. Maybe that was how she wanted it. If it had been Ron and Hermione they would still have been throwing things at each other. He hurt too much right now to care so he leaned back as well and settled with a groan. Harry pulled off his glasses to clean off a smudge of dirt then replaced them onto his nose.

“I really should remember that charm to fix my glasses by now.” He smiled slightly remembering all the times she had fixed them before.

“Oh, I've got to be useful for something.” She chuckled lightly.

His face finally cracked into a full grin as he turned to look at his friend. He couldn't help but blink when he realized how different she looked. Hermione had chucked off her robes and had changed from her school uniform venturing outside in a mid-driff baring summer halter top and shorts that revealed a well-planned tan and newly shapely figure.

His mouth dropped in open appreciation.

“What?” she questioned with one eye cracking open when he paused too long.

“Umm. Nothing. No..thing.” His voice cracked high making him want to crawl under the nearby stadium seats.

“I was wondering when you'd notice, Harry.” That seemed to startle the boy almost as much as her new looks.

“I was tired of all the bushy hair. Padma has this great charm that straightens it completely flat. Does it look too strange?” She peered up at him expectantly.

“What?! Your hair?” He looked confused. He really hadn't been focusing on her hair.

She blushed when she realized he had been appreciating something completely different than her new coiffure.

“I guess we've all grown up a little this summer.” Harry grinned appreciatively at the red-faced girl.

“Harry Potter! You've barely looked me in the eye for two weeks!” she paused pursing her lips.

“And you're still not!”

She crossed her arms across her chest causing his wide green eyes to revert back up to her face leaving him embarrassed and red-faced as well.

He gave a short low chuckle when she actually stood up and stamped her foot in anger. He knew he would be wondering if she was wearing that outfit under her robes for the rest of term.

Wait. He thought. This is HERMIONE. Know-it-all best friend-homework-obsessed Hermione. He shook his head to stop thinking that way. Forget about the tan. Great tan. No lines at all. I guess that meant when she was sunbathing she had to take off…. His face blanched and then turned even redder than before.

They just stood there for several minutes and stared at each other. Neither was willing to make the next move. She blinked owlishly up at him and cocked her head to the side as a soft smile slowly grew on her face. He could barely breathe with the thought that that smile was for him.

Creating an enormous amount of noise, Ron barreled around the corner yelling for Harry.

“Harry you great brilliant git, where are you? The Ferret had the most beautiful bloody nose and he blamed you for all of it! How could you do it?! You didn't let me in on the brawl! What I'd give to flatten Malfoy…” Ron sounded euphoric and dismayed all at the same time.

Hermione started at the sound like a frightened deer. Harry could tell she was unsure of what Ron would think or say about her new look, too. She grabbed her robes and bunched them into a ball as she almost ran away from the two boys.

“Harry Potter, my hero, you broke the ugly wanker's nose! You-ARE-BRILLIANT!” His voice rose higher and higher as he did a victory dance in slow motion around his friend.

“You don't look that great, yourself, though, Mate.” Ron peered closely at Harry's newly blooming shiners.

Ron's head pivoted as he caught sight of Hermione leaving the Quidditch Pitch.

“Who was that?” Ron stopped and whistled appreciatively.

“That…” Harry pointed raising his hand slowly toward the girl and speaking in amazement, “is HERMIONE!”

Harry couldn't help it when his voice cracked again and he cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment.

Ron blinked and stared back at his mate. “No bloody way.” He whispered slowly.

“I wonder if she will be wearing that under her robes again…”

Harry couldn't help but appreciate how alike they thought. He turned his head and followed the retreating figure back to the castle.

“Exactly.” Harry said simply.

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8. Potter is our King

Disclaimer:

I own nothing Harry Potter. Blah, Blah, Blah.

Chapter 8

Potter is our King

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon in Madam Pomfrey's very annoyed care. She had given him several grim moments of verbal thrashing on the subject of inter-house fighting that left him feeling like a disobedient first year. He knew he deserved the scolding, but the satisfaction of pushing that Slytherin prat into the dirt was making it difficult for him to stop his face from grinning. The nurse could tell by his expression that she wasn't getting through that thick Gryffindor bravado to make her point. However, she knew the rule about not healing fighting bruises of the attacker would probably push that smile off his face eventually. They were going to bruise hard and painfully for about a week. Harry had actually admitted that he had been the first one to throw a punch. She tut-tutted around the boy and shuffled him quickly out of the infirmary before the Slytherin house found out where he was and decided to take revenge. With both boys considered the leaders of their respective houses, the nurse hoped this didn't turn into a full-scale war!

The tall dark-haired boy ambled back up the stairs to the Fat Lady's portrait. With a mumbled, “Weasley's Wizarding Weezes Rule,” he stepped through the portal and into the red and gold common room. He didn't know how Fred and George had conned the password, but it did make him smile. He wondered if all the houses had the same password this week. It wouldn't surprise him one bit.

He had just entered the large room when a chorus of cheers startled him in surprise. Ron led the ovation of, “Potter is our King,” with gusto. The red-haired teenager led a laughing Harry around and in a manner imitating Percy he theatrically introduced his best friend to all the Gryffindors as,” Harry Potter, also known as the Fist of Death!”

An impromptu party rolled through the late afternoon and into the evening. Dobby had shown up and provided a feast of food and butterbeer for all the house.

Dobby had whispered a quiet, “Harry Potter socked former master in the nose! I wished I had seed it!” The small house elf raised shocked eyes to Harry, but couldn't help but dance in pleasure at the thought of such things happening to the evil master who had knocked him around for so many years.

Eventually Harry sat down with a grunt next to Hermione who was drinking a butterbeer, but also reviewing her potion notes. He smiled at her attempt at house unity, but still not “really” joining in with the revelry.

“You look a little stiff, Harry. Wouldn't Madam Pomfrey heal your face?” She reached over and was tenderly touching his cheekbone that was blossoming into a lovely shade of green and yellow. Harry held his breath as she leaned so close. He could smell her hair. It faintly reminded him of apples. Or was it strawberries? Apparently the charm she had used was fading and her hair had started to curl on its own. She was so pretty. Why hadn't he noticed before?

He grinned with a wince. “My face isn't where it hurts the most. I must say that Malfoy surprised me. He was positively lethal. I'm just glad I got a shot in before he realized what was going on.”

Her hand was still on his cheek and his face was getting warm. Her fingers were so soft. “Her…Hermione, I…uh…” he stuttered.

Neville interrupted with a loud slap on Harry's back. “Way to go, Potter! I hope his face sticks like that!” Neville guffawed and leaned over the couch between the couple. Hermione dropped her hand quickly with a flushed face as well.

The Gryffindors eventually went in to dinner arm in arm bursting into the Great Hall full of noise and cheers. No one was particularly hungry after the huge plates of food provided by Dobby, but they all sat with a clatter as several Houses nearby whispered about the fight. The Slytherins muttered angrily and shot fuming looks across the aisles.

Professor McGonagall stood up and focused her eyes on the disruptive Gryffindor table.

“That will be quite enough.” She harrumphed suddenly quieting the group.

“As all of you may be aware, fighting will not be tolerated in this school.” She continued pointedly searching out Harry until she had captured his eyes.

He swallowed hard and slowly realized this might actually be worse than he had previously thought.

“Professor Snape tells me that fifty points had been taken from Gryffindor because of a fight instigated by Mr. Potter against Mr. Malfoy from Slytherin House.” The older woman looked over to the smirking Potions master and nodded his way.

“However, as head of house, I have deemed that insufficient.” She paused as she could see the faces around her house table blanch in dismay.

“I believe a loss of two hundred total points would make the message much more clear. Mr. Potter has received detention as well. It would seem that my house has now reverted from first in league for House Cup to the absolute last. If any such behavior happens again, the punishments will double. Do I make myself clear?” Absolute silence surrounded the stunned group of students.

The Slytherin table could barely restrain themselves. Whispers all around the hall sounded from every quarter. The Gryffindors were aghast. Two hundred points! Seamus Finnegan; who had previously help lead the choir of `Potter is our King', glared at Harry and even Neville could only stare at his plate.

“Bloody hell.” Ron whispered in despair.

Harry looked over and saw the smirk on Draco Malfoy's now bruiseless face. He winced as he felt the throbbing pain in his own nose and chin. It was going to be a long week.

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It took three days for anyone but Hermione to talk to him from his own house. He was able to get his homework finished with her assistance, but there was little joy in that. He got pranked by Jerv and Bartley when they stole all the towels from the showers and forced him to streak down the hall to the dorms. After having to run past the girls buck naked, the house must have felt he had paid his dues. Ron finally gave in and challenged him to a game of Wizard's chess. They had been playing for half an hour and were pretty well tied. Harry knew that Ron was letting him get a little ahead before demolishing him in some brilliant and lethal manner. He could never seem to fake Ron out in chess, and without a doubt, Ron was a commanding tactician.

“You have to play Quidditch now, Harry. You'll have the house on you for sure if you don't. Maybe you can win us a few games and get us back into first. It's early in the year yet.” Ron said casually while looking down at his Rook decimated Harry's Queen.

“Yeah. I guess.” Harry mumbled. He wanted to play. Things were starting to feel right again. He had fewer dreams about Sirius lately, and the joys of flying after the snitch seemed like a good idea after all.

“Yes!” Ron yelled knocking over the game pieces who yelled up at him. “Oh sorry, Harry.”

“I was just about to win, too.” Harry laughed. He hadn't beaten Ron in chess in all the years they had played. He'd come close, but never won. Several chess pawns grouped together and were yelling rather nasty things in Ron's direction.

“It's time for a lot of things to restart. Quidditch first and then the D.A.?” Hermione said hopefully with her head leaning over the couch. She had been reading her chapters again for Arithmancy while lazily watching her two best friends play make up chess.

Hermione's words shot several heads their direction. Neville, Lavender and several other members of the D.A. voiced their approval of restarting their club.

“No Umbridge to fight against, why bother?” Ron said slouching back against his chair and raking up the angry dropped pieces with his foot while trying not to get speared by the King's long sword.

“We didn't start the D.A. to fight Umbridge, Ron. Don't you remember? We started it because she wouldn't teach us defence. This year's teacher, Professor Fadora is alright I guess, but it isn't the same as the D.A. We learned so much from Harry. Don't you think?” Hermione had sat forward and earnestly said this in one breath.

“But all of you got hurt last year. Why would you want to go through that again?” Harry spoke quietly.

“Yeah, Ron. How's the brain?” laughed Neville.

Ginny rolled her eyes Neville's direction and shook her head at him as he was on the floor in giggles at Ron's scathing expression.

“We would have died without learning the spells and hexes you taught us, Harry. We thought we knew stuff until you showed us how they were meant to be done. You helped us survive.” Ginny had approached quietly and sat next to Hermione on the couch.

Harry's eyes grew wide and suspiciously wet around the edges. “Thanks Gin.” He whispered.

“So. Next Friday?” Neville stated not as much as a question but as a command as he rolled up next to the couch.

“Next Friday.” They all responded with a laugh. Harry ran his fingers through his hair messing it up thoroughly. It was so good to be back.

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9. Hogsmede

Chapter 9

Hogsmede

Hermione perched nervously on the top stair and waited for Harry and Ron after Divination. She had Arithmancy at the same time as their class. It was at the end of the hallway next to Professor Firenze's Forest room. She almost wished she had stayed in Divination just to see what the mysterious and forbidding Centaur was teaching. Peering into the darkened room, she could see the outline of the two boys against the softly lit night sky above them. They were gathering up their books and saying their goodbyes to their unusual professor.

“Don't tell anyone, but I think I fell asleep in there.” Harry stretched and shook his head to get the cobwebs out.

“Yeah. No one noticed at all when you rolled over and started to snore.” Ron snorted.

Harry punched him in the arm and pushed him through the doorway into the hall.

The slender girl caught step with the boys and walked beside them as they jostled each others books. Harry was looking much better these days. She knew he had worked through a few things, but she didn't know if it was because of her yelling at him or just feeling better because he knocked down Malfoy. Whatever the reason, she was glad he was better. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her overanxious nerves.

“Harry, what are you doing on Saturday?' She questioned with a small smile. “Would you like to go to Hogsmede with me?”

“What!?” The question caught both boys off guard as they turned to face their best friend.

Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise. He had almost convinced himself to ask her out as well, but he didn't think he'd have the courage. She had been his best friend for ages. What if she said no and it messed everything up? Then, here she was asking in plain sight as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Harry had thought about asking her but then he would remember how pretty she had been the day of his fight and his mouth would go completely dry.

“I'd love to go with you, Hermione.” Harry said quietly.

Ron looked back and forth between his two friends and tried to hide his dismay.

“Good.” She pronounced matter-of-factly. She pulled her arms over her class books to stop her shaking hands. “We need to get a book on physical self-defense and a book about strength training. You were too slow with Malfoy. I saw the fight. He was faster and much better trained.”

“Oh.” He paused. “For the D.A.”

All three stood silently as Hermione's face blushed full red.

“Well, um. Yes. Um. For the D.A.” she looked up at Harry through her lashes and smiled tentatively.

Harry slowly smiled back at her. He could see her insecurity and the reddening blush of her cheeks. That told him a lot more than he had previously suspected.

Ron couldn't help grind his teeth at the two smiling teens as they stood there blinking owlishly at each other.

“Come on, you two. You can stare at each other during lunch.”

Ron had to admit to himself he was a little jealous. Hermione had been a crush for him for a long time. He had figured out finally that she didn't see him that way and he had nursed his broken heart eventually enjoying chatting up other girls in school. He knew the time would come and she would pick someone; and to tell the truth, he was glad it wasn't old bandy legs Krum. Harry, though. That kinda hurt. He didn't really want to think about it. He tried to stifle the growing sense of envy that always seemed to crop up when Harry got something he wanted for himself. It had felt great to get the Prefect position when Ron had been sure Harry was going to get it. He tried not to gloat, but it had felt bloody brilliant.

It's just a Hogsmede weekend, it's not like they're getting a flat together or something. Calm Down.

Now, with a sinking feeling, all the terrible feelings low self-worth and resentment were slowly creeping back into his mind.

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The first Hogsmede weekend was a glorious tribute to the coming autumn. September had bloomed with soft, cold breezes echoing the call of winter in the distance. Troops of students with light jackets and money jingling in their pockets waited impatiently for the officious Mr. Filch to allow them to leave the castle grounds. A caravan of fancifully decorated horse and carriages were lined up in front of the gate waiting to take them to the nearby town. The Weasley brothers had supplied the transportation and had plastered their name over every available surface of the brilliantly color changing coaches. They were difficult to look at as the colors and script styles moved randomly.

Hermione was ten minutes late. Harry had been standing in the line anxiously awaiting her. He was nervous and excited and unsure of what was really going on. Did she want to go on this trip with him because she wanted a book or had that been a convenient excuse for them to go together? He had convinced himself back and forth until he gave up in despair of ever knowing what the girl was thinking. Sadly, the only one he could turn to for girl advice was the girl he was completely clueless about. With a groan he turned and checked the doorway again. He knew he was going to collapse if she didn't show up soon.

His breath left him in a woosh. She had sneaked up behind him and wrapped her hands around his face in a “guess who”. She smelled deliciously of apples and vanilla and her soft laugh made him grin in appreciation. When he turned around he saw a very fashionable and pretty girl with a scared expression on her face. It made him more aware of the hand-me-down raggedy clothes he was wearing today. At least his jacket covered most of the worst spots. He shrugged. She had seen his clothes before and it had never made a difference. That was one of the things he's always liked about her.

Smiling, he slowly took her hand in his. Her expression slowly changed to relief and she let out the small hidden breath she had been holding in.

“Is this okay?” He whispered closely in her ear.

She twined her fingers in his and bit her lip nervously.

He grinned to know she had been just as unsure and nervous as he was. It made everything so much better, somehow.

The line started moving pretty quickly and they entered an overly garish carriage with Neville, Padma and a couple of fifth year Ravenclaws.

The coaches stopped in front of the new second store-front for Weasley's Wizarding Weezes II. It was brand new and the first week of opening. Their blitz on marketing at the school had won them instant acclaim and the building was packed full of students. Fred and George spotted the slowly wandering couple and waved them back.

“Oy! Harry! Partner in crime! Come on back!” George and Fred yelled together.

Hermione and Harry shoved through the throng and eventually reached the back of the store where the two tall red-headed twins stood grinning.

“Where's Ron? I thought for sure he'd be here to give us a piece of his MIND.” George guffawed.

Harry rolled his eyes at the lame brain joke. Fred and George had dressed the same in bright blue shirts that said “Prefects are brainless” with an outline of Ron's face.

“Ron's not with us. We're um...we're here, uh… Together.”

Harry stammered and gripped Hermione's hand tighter. She hid her smile with a turn of her head.

“Oh, they do grow up so quickly! Oh my!” Fred or maybe it was George grabbed the other twin and pretended to cry loudly on his shoulder.

Hermione laughed at their antics and shook her head. Harry was so sweet. She had tried not to be caught up in the whole girl's dorm hero worship of the Boy-who-lived that had run rampant throughout the school. She didn't like how girls who had never even spoken to him professed utter devotion to those beautiful green eyes and Quidditch muscles. Hermione had slowly fallen instead for the kindness and fearless friendship he had given an insecure and bossy little know-it-all. He had been a friend when she had desperately needed one. He still had his moments of silliness that every sixteen year old boy had and she knew from personal experience he had faults. She had seen every one of them up close. But she was finding herself falling for him anyway. And those gorgeous green eyes didn't hurt.

He caught her staring and he squeezed her hand. He understood completely. It was like he had never seen her before. This was Hermione, but it also wasn't. She had changed but was completely the same. He loved to see the expressions flying fast across her face. She had always been so easy for him to read. Every emotion she had was obvious to him. That look on her face as she had been watching him however was new. She had been thinking about him, he was sure of it. It made his breath catch and they stood there in the middle of a bustle of students and stared at each other as if they were absolutely alone.

Alone except for the two red-haired men in front of them that were talking at them trying to get their attention. Fred and George grinned as they looked back at each other. Fred reached over the counter and pulled a small round firework out and handed it to his brother.

“Do you mind, Forge?”

“My pleasure, Gred.”

“Won't little Ickle Harry be sooo grateful!”

“It makes me want to just cry.” They both grinned maliciously.

With a whiff of smoke the firework shot up in front of the couple and popped off above their heads.

“Oy, What are you doing?” Harry ducked pulling Hermione down with him.

The fireworks let out a whizzing pop and streamers of flame magically cascaded over their heads. The words, “First Date” was floating above them sparking with little hearts at which tiny magical cupids shot arrows.

“Bollocks.” Harry grimaced.

Hermione giggled. Yes, giggled. Harry was shocked. Everyone in the store started clapping and laughing at the embarrassed two.

“You want to get out of here?” He whispered into her ear.

“Please.” She grinned up at him and then stuck her tongue out at the twins. They raced out as people split to either side of the store to let them out of doors. The floating label however, hovered above right along with them.

“Brilliant. What are we going to do about that?” Harry scowled pointing above his head.

“Let's just go somewhere where we can wait it out. None of Forge and Gred's fireworks last that long.” Harry grinned at her use of the twins' favorite nicknames. They set off at a leisurely pace and walked down the sidewalk past other hurrying couples.

To their right, the Wizarding clothing store, Gladrags, was a shiny modern building with enchanted gargoyles that called out for customers to try their wares. Hermione slowed and peered at a pretty crème dress robe that caught her eye as they were passing.

“Would you like to go in?” She asked hopefully.

Harry grinned at the hungry look the girl gave the dress and gentlemanly held the door for her as they breezed through into the brightly lit clothing store. Ginny was there and when she saw Hermione she squealed and pointed excitedly at the pretty garment in the window.

“Hermione! You have to see this one. You would look fabulous in this!”

Harry couldn't help but grin at the excitement the two girls had for something as common as clothes. He didn't understand it at all. He had gotten by with Dudley's old cast-offs for years. It wasn't a big deal he thought. It was just clothes.

Hermione and Ginny were laughing as they eventually walked back to where Harry had seated himself in one of the chairs kindly placed by the store management. He imagined lots of blokes had sat here waiting for their girlfriends as the girls tried on dress robes and such. The idea that he was waiting for his girlfriend made him grin and blush just a little. Maybe not quite a girlfriend yet, but he was determined to make that happen as soon as possible.

Ginny smirked at Harry as he blushed when he saw Hermione walking back.

“You know, Harry, your style could use a little dressing up as well.” She eyed him speculatively and leaned back on her heels examining his attire.

“What's wrong with my clothes?” He mumbled to himself. He knew his clothes were old and too big, but he really didn't see the big deal.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Men! If I had the galleons that you have!” She sighed at his obvious maleness.

Hermione grinned at Harry's discomfiture. “Why don't we get you a couple of new outfits, Harry? It'll be fun.”

Harry looked back at the two teenage girls in horror. He suddenly felt like somebody's ill-used dress up doll. This was going to be frightening.

The girls laughed and dragged him over to the men's section of the store that had casual wear and nice shoes. Before long he found himself actually enjoying the shopping. He'd never been shopping for clothes before if you didn't count school robes. It felt good to try on a shirt that actually fit and didn't have to be shoved over his elbows to keep his hands free.

It took Hermione several minutes to drag Harry out of the Quidditch theme wear that sported every team from the Puddlemeres to the Chudley Cannons. They had filled his arms full of shirts and casual pants and even a set of new dress robes. Ginny had forced him into new trainers that he had to admit felt like heaven. When the laughing trio finally checked out, he turned and smiled at the two girls.

“Thanks. I think I am really going to enjoy these.” He smiled sheepishly at them as they beamed in response.

The clerk rang up a shocking number on the register that Harry barely twinged over. Ginny gasped at the galleons he was willing to spend, and was a little jealous, but still glad to get Harry out of those horrible rags he had been forced to wear for so long.

Ginny didn't want to interrupt them any longer. Hermione was perfectly able to take over from here. She was glad she had seen the couple, however. The red-head was sure Hermione would have died rather than tell Harry his clothes needed replacing. Ginny left the couple as she saw Harry's eyes twinkling hugely at the equally smiling brown haired girl. After all his purchases were set up for delivery to the castle, they nervously reached for each other's hands and slowly walked out of the store. As their hands reconnected, the fizzing fireworks burst back into life above their heads causing Harry to groan out loud.

They wandered into the darkened bookstore around the corner and riffled through several books about self-defense and physically training the body. Hermione had stacked a large pile into Harry's arms while she searched the lower bookcases for more.

“Are all of these really necessary?” Harry huffed as he switched hands underneath the heavy stack of new books.

“Well, I don't know…”

With a huge bang that caused Hermione to scream, she was knocked against the wall by an enormous blast just outside the doors of the bookstore that shook wafts of dust and falling books off the walls and sent Harry tumbling. Shrieks could be heard as students rushed to get out of the way of the falling dirt and debris.

Harry pushed the piles of books off him where he had fallen in a heap and grabbed the frightened girl by the hand. Rushing, they reached the shattered glass doors and witnessed several Death Eaters screaming hexes at fleeing students.

Shouting as he ran Harry pulled his wand out and yelled “Stupefy” at the closest masked figure. The dark robed Death Eater fell backward as three other masked fighters caught sight of the boy before raising their wands in defense.

Hermione was shooting hexes right and left from the doorway of the bookstore. They both knew someone had to stay there and keep the younger students inside and defended. He was worried, but knew she could take care of herself. It was the frightened children cowering behind in the store that had to be kept safe. The crossfire of wizard fighting was dangerous and often deadly.

With eyes blazing, the witch waved several groups that were fleeing other blasts into the bookstore. Crying children rushed to their prefect and scurried into the safety of the familiar storefront. A couple of Death Eaters had noticed her barrage of hexes and had stationed themselves behind a wall to fire steadily back. Two third year Hufflepuffs had been struck by Immobilous curses and were precariously standing in the middle of the street. With a grunt, the girl pushed off the wall and launched herself at the two children knocking them down. At least down was better than directly in the path of flying spells.

As she pulled up from her position, a heavy red curse slammed into her back throwing her into the pavement knocking her unconscious. Several others in the D.A. including Neville and Ron rushed to her side. Ron furiously shot at the two robed attackers hitting one in the chest with an,“Immobilous” and missing the other by inches.

Shots fired back and forth as Harry took on several other Death Eaters at the end of the street. His eyes narrowed as he could see other attackers around the corner setting the “Imperio” curse on several students making them furiously attack each other. One group had set the Hog's Head on fire and was hexing people as they tried to flee from the flames and the smoke.

Harry had finally taken care of the three attackers that had surrounded him and left them stunned on the ground. He raced over to help put out the fire and joined Cho Chang and Professor Flitwick as they tried to charm the flames away by turning them into flowers.

A harsh cackle made Harry's neck shiver when he turned and found himself face to face with Bellatrix Lestrange. Her face was contorted in glee as she pointed her wand at the boy and yelled “Crucio!”

Harry fell to his knees in blazing pain. He couldn't help but scream in agony. Lestrange had stunned Cho and the Professor before they even saw her coming. The hurting boy writhed in pain and rolled into fetal position with a whimper. Leaning close, she slowly ran her fingers through his hair, petting him softly.

“Poor little boy. Does it hurt?” She grinned evilly as his eyes narrowed at her malicious words.

She ended the curse and kicked him hard in the back. She was reaching down to grab his arm and pull him up when he swung his legs around knocking her off her feet. Shakily he whipped his wand around and stunned her as quickly as he could.

Looking down the street, he could make out the figures of Ron shooting curses at a fleeing black robed figure and the bodies of Neville and Hermione lying prostrate on the ground. Luna Lovegood and Blaize Zambini were shooting hexes from behind a hedge even though Harry could tell both of them had been hit in the face with a `conjuctivitus' curse.

One of the masked attackers was leaning over Neville and Hermione and looked like he was shooting a spell them again. Ron and Blaize couldn't hit the Death Eater since he had a protection shield surround him in a glittering blue haze.

With a snarl Harry burst into a run shouting as many curses at the attacker as he could come up with. The man turned and disapparated before Harry could reach him. Suddenly, the air was filled with popping noises as yelling Aurors filled the street throwing curses at fleeing black robes. In minutes it was over. The Aurors had chased the Dark Wizards away, but apparently Volemort had provided a portkey to his minions that activated the instant the Death Eater had been rendered unconscious or unable to move.

Harry rushed to Hermione's side just as Ron had reached her as well. Neville had apparently fallen on top of the girl trying to take a curse that was meant for her.

“Ennervate.” Harry yelled through gritted teeth.

Neville woke suddenly with a groan and it took a second before he stopped struggling against Ron who was trying to help him up. The shaken boy stood up with a whoosh of breath and staggered to lean against the bookshop wall.

Ron woke Hermione who nearly knocked him over as she grabbed for her wand ready to continue the fight. When she saw Harry dirty and clothes torn, she grabbed for him and pulled him into a hug. They clung to each other for a moment before releasing in embarrassment.

“That's alright; nobody needs to give me a hug. I just will stand here all by myself.” He grinned at the two who immediately swallowed him in a death grip hug.

Fred and George rushed around the corner with eyes blazing and a fierce expression on their faces. Their clothes and arms had been burned somewhat as they had finally put out the fire that had threatened the Hog's Head. Several shop owners had worked together to put out the blaze. Students that had been cursed or stunned were being floated back magically to the castle in a line organized by Madam Hooch. A small group of third years that had been corralled by Ginny followed behind them. Professors were calling shrilly for the students to load up into the carriages as they herded them back to the safety of the castle. Fred grabbed Ron from his friends embrace and pulled him into his own arms.

“Murmph!” Ron's muffled surprise at the fierce affection shown by his brothers was cut off by George's slapping him on the back.

“We knew you'd be okay, little brother, but we had to be sure or Mum would've killed us.” The twins grinned in relief at each other and let him go with a ruffled head pat.

Ginny smiled with rolled eyes at her brothers then tiredly shuffled the smaller children into the nearby coaches sending them sniffling on their way.

Harry turned back to Hermione and grabbed her shoulders while peering anxiously into her wide eyes.

“Are you okay, `Mione?” He watched her start to shake as the enormity of the attack hit her.

“Mione, you were brilliant! I saw you fighting at the storefront doors. You were positively frightening!” Harry laughed to lighten the mood as he could tell she was starting to break down.

Ron laughed. “You were absolutely wicked!”

She smiled tremulously at her friends and leaned slightly onto Harry's arm.

Dumbledore and Professor Snape appeared suddenly in front of the group. The headmaster looked furious. You could see the crackling magic that threatened around his person. His eyes were thunderous and the students stepped back a step or two in awe of the forbidding figure.

“All students should be back in their common rooms within fifteen minutes to be counted by their head of house.” The grey bearded man swept past the students and entered the still smoking building just behind them.

Snape stared silently at the students watching them without his customary sneer. He waited a moment then merely pointed at the carriages to imply his command.

The group trudged over to the waiting coaches and climbed in shakily as the adrenaline rush was fading leaving everyone horribly tired. Harry had wrapped his arm around the white-faced girl and let her lean back into the seat close to him. No one said a word as the carriage jerked into motion to lead them back to their school in silence as the softly fading fireworks above Harry and Hermione's head fizzled away.

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10. Regroup

Chapter 10

Regroup

Absolute chaos overwhelmed Harry and his companions as they entered the Great Hall. Students were crying as professors cast spells to set up a triage area for the overflow from the infirmary. Most of the students had minor curse damage or bruising. Surprisingly, Draco Malfoy was sitting in the corner with bandages on his arms and a large ugly scratch across his face.

“Malfoy Senior will be fuming about his little death eater son being all scratched up!” Ron whispered pointing at the Slytherin prefect who was officiously ordering his house mates to bring him things.

Harry snorted at that comment and nodded at Headmaster Dumbledore before leading his friends out the door and up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower. Professor McGonagall was standing at the entrance next to the painting of the Fat Lady irately ticking off names on a list with a quill. She looked furious and could be heard muttering scathing comments about `evil little toadies and little lordy volde-prat'.

Ron and Harry could barely keep themselves from snickering out loud but held back as her stare caught them forcing them through the door to hurry into the Gryffindor Common Room. Ron left to immediately corral children who were wailing in shrieking tears as they worked themselves into further whoops of hysteria. Several seventh years helped him herd the younger children upstairs into their dorms and try to get them to calm down.

Harry led Hermione to the corner window seat and checked her for curses or cuts that she might have acquired from the fight. She never said a word. Her eyes were wide and tearless as they stared off aimlessly. Harry was starting to get worried. The only motion that showed Hermioine wasn't comatose was her absently rubbing her left wrist where a burn welt had wrapped around her arm.

“'Mione?”

Harry stared into her eyes and tried to catch her attention.

Suddenly her eyes snapped back to his and they widened even more.

“Bloody Hell!” She screamed at the top of her voice.

Harry was so shocked at this response he nearly fell off the window seat barely keeping him from falling onto the floor.

She sat down hard beside him and pulled her legs up wrapping her arms around them to perch precariously on the wooden seat. Her head fell onto her knees and she muffled a harsh scream with her arms against her mouth.

“I can't believe this! They could have killed all of us! What is the ministry even good for? It took the Aurors a good fifteen minutes to even bother to show up! We were sitting ducks!”

Harry's mouth opened and closed a couple of times and he could only nod his head in agreement since he had no idea what to say. He had expected a nice little cry from the girl that he could hold her close and tell her how he would always defend her. This reaction was not what he had expected. She looked mad enough to take on the whole of Voldemort's army.

“We have to get ready, Harry. We can have only so much luck. This could have been so much worse.” She grabbed his hand and gripped it fiercely.

“We didn't do too badly, Hermione. We chased them off!” Harry sputtered defensively.

“Harry! They could have killed all of us! We don't know how to defend against half the spells they threw at us. I was stupid and got shot with a Stunner and left the children open to being attacked! I saw you go down with Lestrange shooting you and I didn't know what to do. I didn't know if you were dead or alive.” She whimpered and all of her anger fled as she relived the moment she saw Harry fall leaving her crying softly.

Harry grabbed the girl and crushed her into a rough embrace. They sat that way for several moments then leaned back to relax into a softer more comfortable hug. They were filthy and covered with sweat and soot from the fire. Hermione's hair had unwoven from the plaits that had been so carefully braided leaving her wild-haired and disheveled. Harry couldn't care less how she looked. He had never been prouder of her than when he saw her fiercely fighting three death eaters at once over the bodies of the fallen students in the street.

Ron tiredly trudged down the stairs and sat heavily down next to the couple.

“Most of the first years had to be charmed to sleep, but at least they're out of our hair.” Ron ran his hands through his red hair that looked like it had been dipped in soot. Soft clouds of ash fell around him as he ignored Harry's snort.

“I might need a bath.” He said with pursed lips before breaking out into a tired grin.

“Or possibly a throw in the lake.” Hermione giggled with a sniff.

Ron stuck his nose into the air and looked down at her in pretend disdain.

“You can't be implying that I smell?!” He huffled dramatically before shaking his soot-filled head all over his two friends causing them to jump up with a cry to try to brush the dirt off themselves.

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes at the three friends as she herded the last of children on the list up the stairs. Casting a quick cleaning spell, the three felt the wind rush past them in a furious whirlwind leaving them spotless.

“You still need a shower, but maybe now you won't track filth all over the common room. Go clean up and report back to me in half an hour. We need to discuss what happened and if you recognized anyone. Those ministry Aurors have most of the professors held up in the Headmaster's office asking all of us questions about what happened. If anything ever happened without you, Potter, being in the middle of it, I would probably have a stroke.”

The three teens looked at the ferocious teacher and scrambled off the window seat. Hermione paused before she reached the stair leading to her dorms and pulled a stunned Harry into a quick kiss before rushing out of sight.

He rocked back onto his heels in surprise at the unexpected kiss. It had been so fast he almost missed it. Ron snorted at his friend's wide-eyed expression and slapped him on the back as he pulled his dumbfounded mate up the stairs.

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Harry rushed through the shower and was surprised to already see his new clothes lying on the bed in nice fluffy piles. He had never had such beautiful clothes before. It was delightful to pull on such soft fabrics and not have to put on something that had been previously stained or torn. Ron looked surprised to see Harry's new look and couldn't help but rib Harry a little for dressing like a Malfoy. After sufficient time in a headlock for that comment, Harry let Ron go and the bounded down the stairs to meet with Hermione and Ginny who were grinning at Harry's new appearance as well.

Harry slipped his hand into Hermione's and they laughed as the fireworks reappeared lightly above their heads. It still said “First Date” but it was barely visible and the cupids looked wan and tired as they gave up shooting arrows through the barely floating hearts.

They approached the Headmaster's entrance and were waved in by Mad-Eyed Moody who glared fiercely at each of them. They could hear Fred and George yelling at someone about the fire and how were they to know that no one was still inside. They had apparently been burned when they had burst into the flame-filled building to make sure no one was trapped. Ron and Ginny were wide-eyed to hear the normally jovial twins angered and yelling.

The group of friends slid into the room to see several of the Professors and many other adults they didn't know. Cho Chang was there next to Professor Flitwick and Neville looked decidedly nervous as he stood beside a glaring Professor Snape.

Headmaster Dumbledore saw the teens enter the room and nodded to show he saw them. Harry gulped. Until this moment he had forgotten about telling the headmaster about the Dursley situation. Actually, Harry hadn't even read the letter Fawkes had given him the day of the fight. He mentally kicked himself for being so stupid sometimes. He hoped he could fake his way through all of this without making a complete fool of himself.

Hermione looked around at the faces of all the adults until she saw the Minister of Magic, Mr. Fudge. With a huff her eyes narrowed and she left the surprised boys and Ginny and walked purposely up to the officious man.

“Fudge! What do you have to say about this! Children could have been killed! No one has been terribly hurt, have they, headmaster?”

She had turned to Dumbledore to receive confirmation. Seeing him shake his head with a smile, she nodded and turned her angry body back to face the surprised Minister.

“How can this happen? I believe we need to call for your removal! I can't believe…”

She sputtered as Harry and Professor Snape took each of her arms and pulled her away from the startled politician. They gently pushed her into a chair conjured by the Charms professor and left her fuming with her arms crossed in front of her. Harry looked anywhere but at her and actually found himself hiding from her behind her chair as she looked hard left and right to give him a piece of her mind for interrupting her diatribe.

“Afraid of your girlfriend, Harry?” Ron snickered low to his best mate.

“As much as you are, Ron.” Harry grinned back.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and twinkled brightly at the angry girl. Fudge was looking around wildly as if expecting more crazed students to attack him.

“We'd like the impressions of the attack by anyone who would like to give them. Harry, you and your, ahem…Defense Association, were quite in the middle of the fight. Could you give us your thoughts?”

Fudge winced at the mention of the Defense Association and his eyes narrowed when Harry Potter approached the cluttered desk. He harrumphed at the boy and looked away giving the impression that anything Harry said was suspect.

Harry glared at the Minister of Magic and shook his head to gather his thoughts. Dumbledore offered him a lemon drop with a smile making Harry grin and accept his favourite candy.

“Everything happened so fast.” Harry began.

I recognized Bellatrix Lestrange especially when she crucio'd me.” The smattering of gasps made him look around and restart.

“Several of the D.A. were pinned next to the Book Store. They were defending the younger children and were trying to get them out of the streets and out of spell shot.” Several of the Professors were nodding at the intelligence of that move.

“We had discussed it at one of our meetings to make the bookstore our base of collection for all the students who couldn't defend themselves in such a situation as today. I guess we all remembered and it worked pretty well.” He paused thinking back and trying to remember.

“I can't tell you much, but I don't know if they accomplished what they were trying to do or not. Were they just trying to scare us? Did they want to capture me or possibly someone else? No one has turned up missing and no one was killed. I'd like to think we had a hand in keeping them at bay, but a friend pointed out to me today that we were woefully unprepared.”

Harry looked sharply back at the Minister. “Why did it take so long for your Aurors to show up?”

Moody entered the door and made everyone jump as he slammed the

door shut.

“He wouldn't let us go because Dumbledore asked for help.” Moody growled as he pointed his hand at Fudge.

Fudge bristled at the accusation and puffed up in defense.

“I had to make sure that everything was real and not a ruse to take all my Aurors away from the Ministry. We could have been attacked while all our defense was running around the countryside!” Fudge sputtered in anger.

Harry shook his head angrily knowing it was just an excuse. Fudge had always been a useless minister and always would be. It didn't matter. Things had to change. Harry realized that they couldn't ever depend on Aurors for help. It was up to them and the D.A. to be the real defense for Hogwarts. But why did Voldemort attack this time? It had to be more than wanting to kill Harry or even Dumbledore. It was sloppy and poorly done by the Death Eaters. From Harry's previous visions he had with Voldemort he knew for a fact there were Death Eaters being punished right now.

Snape whispered something to Dumbledore and then disappeared out the door. The headmaster looked worriedly at the Potion Master, and then focused his attention on the young man in front of him.

“Thank you, Harry. That was very helpful. It is time for dinner, and my students must be looked after. If you would all excuse us?” The eccentric old wizard waved at the young people in the room who stood quickly and followed him out the door.

Fudge was still sputtering and Harry, Ron and Hermione could hear the Weasley twins consoling the angry minister with, “It's okay, Fudgy. You'll get them next time.”

Harry and Ron laughed out loud and even got the angry Hermione to crack a smile.

Harry was laughing when his head started to ache. The pain shot from his scar pushing him to his knees. The pain was intense and Harry's eyes were watering as he clenched he teeth with a grinding noise. With Harry's cry, Dumbledore spun around and had the boy in his arms holding him close as if holding him could stop the pain. Hermione, Ron and Ginny stopped and dropped down to help their friend though they felt helpless as Harry whimpered with the pain.

Dumbledore cast a lightening charm and picked Harry up in his arms as if he were weightless, which he probably was. Hermione grabbed for Harry's hands which were clenched into fists. There was nothing they could do but rush him to the infirmary and hope the pain would subside with a potion or the gentle nurse's skills.

Madam Pomfrey was overwhelmed with crying children with burns and cuts and bruises. A few students had been cursed with more dire spells, but they had been dealt with first leaving the more normal childhood injuries to finish with.

The headmaster rushed through the doorway carrying a grumbling Harry Potter in his arms. Harry's scar pain had fled just as quickly as it had come. The old Wizard wouldn't hear of Harry not going to the school hospital to be at least checked out. The old man, gently dropped the younger man off onto an empty cot, and then sat down heavily himself. The old Professor looked winded and his face had lost all its color. Madam Pomfrey took one look at the elderly gentleman and rushed a bottle of pepper-up potion into his hands. After downing the liquid, and releasing the steam from his ears, he looked considerably better.

“You frightened me, my boy!” The professor's eyes were twinkling again much to the relief of all who surrounded him.

Harry felt a little ill-used and was irritably trying to get Ron to charm him back to his previous weight as he was bouncing lightly up and down on the cot. He rubbed his lightning bolt scar as the feeling of weightlessness faded and he settled onto the bed. Dumbledore handed Harry the rest of his potion and the boy swallowed the Pepper-up in one pull. The smoke cleared from his ears and Harry leaned back feeling a little better.

“Did you have another vision, Harry?” Ron was shaking a little to have seen his friend react so harshly to his scar burning.

“No. I didn't. But I could tell he was happy about something. Why was he happy? They didn't get me or hurt anyone really. I just don't understand.”

Dumbledore sighed.

“There's no understanding such evil. I do believe you must continue your, um..remedial potions class as soon as possible.” The Wizard smiled knowing at least Ron and Hermione knew he meant the Occulomency training he had with Professor Snape.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head in confusion. What did potions have to do with his scar? No matter, she had several others to deal with and she left the children in the Headmaster's care.

“Thank you, Poppy!” Professor Dumbledore called after the retreating nurse who waved before bustling off to deal with cuts and burns.

Neville and Cho rounded the corner and burst in on the group as they were getting ready to go back to their dorms.

“Harry, are you okay?” Cho asked breathlessly.

Neville bent over and leaned his hand on his knees to catch his breath and nodded with a wave to indicate he wanted to ask the same question.

Harry smiled grimly. “I'm fine.”

Cho looked at the Headmaster who shook his head to say “no more questions.”

She shrugged and threw her hands up. She had things to do. Her whole Ravenclaw House was a disaster right now with sniveling First years driving all the older students crazy. She needed to be there instead of chasing after Harry. Hermione's flashing eyes also told Cho that she wasn't really that appreciated either. Cho frowned at the younger girl's territorial manner as Hermione reached over and took Harry's hand in hers. It looked like Harry finally figured out what the rest of the school had known for ages. He and Hermione had liked each other but never really knew it. It still rankled that he had never really understood what she needed when they were dating. He was always rushing about to see what `she' wanted. He ran at her beck and call. Whatever. She had a much better and older boyfriend now. She flounced out the door with a sniff and her head in the air.

The Headmaster shooed the group back to their dorms and left them to attend to his duties. They had missed dinner, and they were all very, very tired as they trooped up the seemingly endless stairs to the Gryffindor Tower and their beds.

Harry walked into his room with Ron and Neville. Harry's bed was still covered with all the bags and purchases that had been delivered earlier. He was too tired to deal with it. He just pushed them over to one side and quickly pulled on his pajamas. Sighing with pleasure, the bed was delightfully warm and he groaned with relief. His whole body ached from the fight and the curses he'd endured that day. He'd been crucio'd, his scar had blazed in pain, he had fought numerous Death Eaters and he had his first date with Hermione Granger. That last thought made him smile and chuckle to himself as he remembered Fred and George's firework prank.

Too bad the day had to go to complete crap, he thought.

“Well,” he thought, “I did get a kiss. That kinda made everything else, okay.” With that grin, he rolled over and fell instantly to sleep.

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11. A time for everything

Authors notes:

I want to thank everyone who has reviewed my story. It makes me thrilled and humbled that so many people have read it. I looked on the Chapter stats and in counts into the thousands. Completely overwhelming. I appreciate all your advice—even the ones that are hard to take. This is my very first fanfic and I am having a blast.

Also, general disclaimer…I own nothing Harry Potter.

Chapter 11

A time for everything

Ron awoke with a start as Harry threw himself in a backwards slam onto his friend's bed yelling with a loud, “Get UP!”

Harry had come from the showers and had already dressed for the day. The young man was really enjoying his new wardrobe and he had already been picked on that morning by Neville and Seamus for preening. Nothing could be done about his hair, though, no matter what he tried. The more he messed with it, the worse it got. Ron threw a lumpy pillow vaguely toward his best mate and burrowed back down into the warm comforter like a rabbit going to ground for winter. Neville jauntily saluted Harry and with a grin he grabbed one end of the sheets as Harry took the other. Heaving with a forced grunt, they pulled the sleeping boy off the bed and dragged him flailing helplessly to the showers. No one seemed particularly surprised by this occurrence as this happened at least twice a week. Ron sputtered as cold water sprayed heartlessly in his face and on his sheets as he yelled loudly and incoherently.

Eventually, Ron staggered mostly dressed down the stairs to the clapping of several Gryffindors who had congregated in the common room to go down to breakfast together. Ron bowed, and nearly tripped himself as everyone filed out into a sprint down the corridor to the delightful smell of cooking bacon.

The girls usually were there before the boys. The boys could be counted on to prank each other so much on the weekends that the girls knew to get out of the way or be a target themselves. Lavender and Parvati had circled Hermione at the table like Raptors before a kill. They had been harassing the young woman by asking her question after question about her date with Harry. The Prefect girl had perfected the expression of polite disinterest with her nose in the air as she pointedly ignored the two gossip-mongers. Harry ruined her composure however when he swooped down beside her and gave her a loud bussing kiss on the cheek. Lavender and Parvati squealed and clapped as Hermione blushed crimson in response.

The boys grinned at her blushes as they loaded their plates full of toast and eggs. Harry had gone through his first plate and felt he could pleasantly enjoy his second while reading the letter he had crumpled in his pocket from Fawkes early this summer.

“Better late than never,” he thought while stuffing a sausage in his mouth.

The letter was from Dumbledore and it was about his Godfather, Sirius. The boy blanched and swallowed hard. The crumpled letter went on to ask Harry to meet with the Headmaster when he felt up to hearing about Sirius's last Will and Testament. The idea of the finality of a will and truly knowing his beloved Godfather was really gone hit him stiffly in the stomach. Everything he ate felt cold and leaden inside him. Hermione noticed how subdued he was and she raised her eyebrows in query.

Harry sighed and paused a moment before handing the letter over to her. She read it quickly then hugged him softly before folding it back up and placing next to his plate.

Today was Sunday, and was actually a good day to meet with the School Headmaster, he thought. He had found it was better to just get it over with instead of dwelling on it like he had about telling him about the Dursley incident. He could get both done at once and finally off his mind.

Overhead, the owl post swooped in dropping packages and mail haphazardly across the Great Hall. A Hufflepuff third year had apparently received a bad mark on an exam and his father had sent a howler that made everyone in the hall laugh to the recipient's chagrin. Harry had a letter from Remus politely asking about his health which he read quickly and asked his owl, Hedwig to take a note to Dumbledore asking for a time to meet. He used the back side of Dumbledore's message and rolled it up for the bird to carry. She hopped back into flight with a nip at his breakfast sausage and headed out the door to the upper stairs.

“Would you like to go for a walk around the lake today, `Mione?” Harry asked softly.

She looked at his sad eyes and then leaned her head softly on his shoulder.

“That would be lovely.” She slipped her hand into his for a quick squeeze then picked up her newspaper that had been delivered just a moment ago.

“I have a letter to write to my folks, but that won't take an hour. Let's say ten o'clock?”

He nodded at her as he shoved the unfinished plate out of his way and leaned his forehead thoughtfully in his hands.

Harry left the Great Hall without anyone really noticing. Ron was talking animatedly to Seamus about Quidditch and didn't see Harry slip out. The young man had a few minutes to kill before the meeting with Dumbledore. He wandered aimlessly until he reached the Trophy Room. The glass cases glittered with stacked gold trophies and hanging ribbons of past achievers. Apparently someone had received detention recently with Filch as the awards looked freshly polished and gleaming with new rubbing.

He leaned with his shoulder pressed against Phinias Widdlebumble's award for Excellent Hex Removal, 1697, and shoved his chilled hands into the pockets of his robes.

Glinting brightly, a flash of his father's Quidditch trophy caught his eye. He couldn't touch it, but just knowing it was there was a bit of a comfort. Such things made the presence of his father seem so much more real. Even having the Maurader's Map gave him a thrill as he imagined a boy that looked quite a bit like him sneaking around the castle getting into who knew what kind of trouble. Time passed slowly as he walked quietly past the cases examining each prize until he suddenly stopped.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, he read.

“Why in Merlin's name is HIS trophy still here?” Harry gritted out his teeth as his fingers gripped the case whitely.

“It is there to remind me that every student starts out with a fresh beginning, Harry.”

“At the time he received this trophy, he was already on the path he had chosen, but he could have been led back to appreciate what was good even then if I had only been more aware. That award is for my personal remembrance.”

Dumbledore had appeared suddenly behind the angry boy startling him enough to have Harry whip around with his wand defensively raised.

“Headmaster! I didn't see you come in.” Harry was breathing fast and caught himself quickly slipping his wand into his back pocket.

“Not in your back pocket, Harry. Moody tells me he lost a buttock once that way.” Dumbledore murmured wryly as he swept past the grinning boy who promptly moved his wand to his front.

“That explains a lot.” Harry mumbled.

“I thought I'd catch you down here rather than in my stuffy office. I spend much too much time in there and I like to wander a bit once in a while.”

“Yeah.” Harry agreed. “You tend to pace a lot.”

Dumbledore paused and raised his left eyebrow at Harry as if questioning how Harry could know such a thing. Harry had noticed the Headmaster often paced his quarters when the boy was using the Maurader's map. The map showed where every person was in the castle with a little dot showing their movements. Harry and Ron and the Weasley twins before them had used the very instructive diagram to sneak about the castle without being caught out by snooping prefects or teachers.

Harry winced slightly, and tried to change the subject.

“Well, ah…right. Um…” his faculties for changing the subject had fled him and he stood there in consternation.

Dumbledore laughed a low chuckle and waved his hand dismissively.

“I don't want to know, my boy. Believe me, I did a few things that my headmaster would have dreaded to know as well.” His eyes twinkled merrily and he moved to examine the numerous awards on the bottom of the case for Most Impressive Disfiguring Hexes.

“I'm glad you are no longer so angry with me, son. It disturbed me greatly to know that one of my favourite pupils held me in such disregard.”

“Yeah. Well. I was angry with you. I still am, a little. But, I was more angry at myself, really.” He muttered low casting his eyes back at the floor.

“You aren't hiding anything from me now are you?” He raised his eyes and connected piercingly with the older wizard.

“I have many secrets, Harry. But I have truly told you all that I know in regards to the prophesy and your Godfather. Alas, I should have trusted you more and I lay much of the failures of the past year at my own doorstep.” Dumbledore sighed and his robes rustled as he turned away.

Harry paused then put his hand on the old man's shoulder, “No. I take the responsibility of my own actions, Sir. I realize the foolhardiness of so much I did. I am taking precautions now to be more vigilant and aware in this war. Hermione told me something very important. We are no longer children in this war and we must become the warriors that are necessary to win this fight. Not that we were given much of a childhood to begin with.”

Dumbledore looked down with regret at that sad statement.

“Don't let Voldemort take your joy, Harry. That is much of what we are fighting for. There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven…a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time for war and a time for peace. (1)”

Harry looked up thoughtfully. “We deserve a time for peace, but Riddle is making us fight this war to get there. Since we out of necessity must have war, I am prepared to fight—and not just defensively. We must be ready to strike and win. Do you understand that?” Harry looked fierce as the idea of fighting made his body tight and muscles tense.

Dumbledore took the young man by the shoulders and with a moment's hesitation, pulled him into a strong hug. Harry stood there stiffly until after a second he relaxed and breathed deeply. He had never been comfortable with anyone touching him, and it took him a moment to allow it to happen. Too many years of his childhood had been cheerless and without love. Harry had received rough slaps and beatings in the place of hugs and soft touches. More than anything, the life he led without gentle contact at all was worse than any casual whipping he received. He felt his breath catch and he was embarrassed to feel wetness on his cheeks.

“I'll meet you in my office when you are ready to go over Mr. Black's Will. Take your time, son. This will be here when you get back from your walk. Right now it is a time to enjoy the pleasures of life. I believe Ms. Granger is waiting?” The wise older man stood back and witnessed with pleasure the glad open face of the often troubled boy.

“How did you know I was going to go on a walk? I didn't tell…”

Dumbledore rumbled a laugh. “There are some secrets I won't tell you.”

He swirled his flickering star decorated robes as he exited the room laughing in amusement at the boy's confused face.

After he left, Harry smiled at the reflection in the plate glass of a boy who probably looked a lot like his father. He brushed his hands in front where the trophy of his parent was placed, then turned with a deep breath to walk out the door to find the girl that waited patiently for him.

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Hermione finished her letter to her mum and handed it to the school owl that she had collected from the owlery. With a nip of owl treats, the brown owl swooped out the window into the fresh air.

The girl sighed softly and shook herself. She was tired. It had been a night of nightmares again. Since coming back to Hogwarts, the nightly terrors had abated until the evening following the last Death Eater attack. The images of the vicious fight and the horror she felt seemed to swallow her whole when she tried to close her eyes. Her whole body ached from lack of sleep and her face was pale and wan.

I just need to get some fresh air and I'll feel much better. A few hours outside studying will do just the trick.

She gathered up her writing things and put them away in the pretty writing box her father had made for her when they found out she'd be away at school for nine months out of the year. The box was painted a delicate yellow color and detailed by her mother in soft spring roses. It always made her think of home and the smell of summer as she'd open the back door to the yard full of rose bushes. She touched it with a smile and sent a thought of love to her mother and father. She paused a moment to wonder how her parents would see her now. She was no longer a little girl, but becoming a young woman, and she hoped, resilient and strong.

Taking only three school books, she placed them in her shoulder bag and tripped down the stairs to the common room which was filled with Gryffindors of all shapes and sizes.

Ginny was seated on the loveseat cuddled in with a trashy novel and Crookshanks who knew an easy target when he saw one. The red-haired girl was absently petting the cat as he slowly shredded the couch arm. The couch repaired itself magically as a spell had been cast upon it many years ago by a former headmaster who had despaired of all the animals and hard-living students ever treating the furniture well. After a while all spells fade, and the furniture and hangings were taking on a decided shabby appearance after several decades of use. The couch, a favorite spot for late night assignations and group meetings, had seen the worse of wear and was currently losing the battle to a certain ginger-furred cat.

Hermione leaned over the top of the couch and roughly scruffled her cat's fur so that he looked like he had just come from the clothes dryer. She laughed when he looked up at her with a very disdainful cat-like expression and he flicked his tail and bounded away expressing his opinion in a low grumbling meow.

Ginny grinned up at her friend as Hermione sat lightly beside her.

“You look a little tired, are you alright?” Ginny noticed the circles under her eyes that Hermione had tried very hard to hide under makeup.

“Just a sleepless night, Gin. I'm sure I am not the only one.” She could see several yawning faces around the room.

Hermione leaned back into the couch and absently rubbed her wrist where the slight burn still hadn't healed. She had thought about seeing Madame Pomfrey about it, but dismissed the idea after seeing the infirmary filled with students still recovering from the attack. It will heal on it's own. It's one of the good things about being muggleborn, you don't expect everything to have a magical fix. She grinned as she thought of Ron and his shock and dismay when she told him how she did her laundry at home.

A loud yawn erupted from behind the couch startling Ginny and Hermione, both. Neville leaned between the girls and ducked his head into the pillows of the couch with a moan.

“Not getting enough sleep, Neville?” Hermione said wryly to the top of his head.

“Murrfff.” He replied succinctly.

Ginny laughed as she got up and stretched leaving Neville room to push himself over the top of the couch to take up the position left by the girl. He ran his fingers through his hair and moaned.

“I am so tired. I have twelve inches of parchment for Potions class that I've put off for four days. Just thinking about Professor Snape makes me turn into a gibbering idiot. I couldn't sleep last night so I tried to do a little. When I read what I had written this morning, I could imagine the grade I would get. It's not going to be pretty.”

Hermione laughed at his expression and shook her finger at him.

“Work done first, beats doing your worst!”

Neville groaned again and threw a pillow at the prim and studious face of his friend.

“Actually, I had some bad nightmares last night. It was worse than this summer. I really thought I was over them but last night they came back as horrible as ever.” He shuddered remembering the dreams of Death Eaters and the visions of his friends falling in pain and possible death.

Hermione's face fell in commiseration. She knew exactly what he was feeling. She leaned over and gave him a hug.

“I understand, Nev. I almost didn't want to come back to school. This summer was the hardest thing. I knew everyone was alright, but the dreams kept telling me you had all died or were hurt horribly. Every night was terror after terror. I was so afraid.”

He looked at her with concern and returned the hug. They sat there for a moment both caught up in the memories that haunted them.

At that moment Harry entered the Portrait-hole and stopped suddenly when he saw Hermione and Neville in each other's arms.

Neville was the first to catch sight of Harry's slowly angering eyes and he snatched himself away from the girl's arms as if she was on fire. With a stumbling, “Uh, potions. Gotta go. Twelve inches, you know. Uh. Bye.”

His sudden flurry of movement nearly knocked her off the couch and it took a second for her to register Harry's appearance.

“Oh! Harry. I didn't see you there. What did the Headmaster say?”

Harry merely stared at her before crossing his arms in anger.

“What were you and Neville doing?”

“What are you talking about?” She was gathering up her book bag so they could go to the lake.

“You were hugging Neville.”

She stared at him as if he had grown a second head.

“Yes. I was.” Hermione stood up and draped the bag over her head and arm so it rested on her hip.

“Oh.” Harry seemed to crumble in place. He blinked a few times then turned to walk up the stairs to his room.

“Harry, don't be an idiot. Neville has been having nightmares just like me and he needed a little comfort from a friend. A FRIEND. Do you understand me?” She glared at him and rolled her eyes in frustration with the boy.

“Oh…OH. A friend. Got it.” He took a deep breath and with a wry grin ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head at his crazy behavior.

“Sorry. This boyfriend-girlfriend thing is a little new to me. I apologize now for all the stupid mistakes I am going to make.” He grinned at her as he reached for her hand.

“I'm your girlfriend?” She asked softly looking up at him through her eyelashes.

He pulled her in closer and brushing her soft hair off her shoulders, he put both of his hands to the sides of her face and whispered closely.

“If you want to be.” His deep green eyes were bright with promise and he held his breath in anticipation of her answer.

“I want to be.” Her lips curled up and he noticed she had a dimple on her left cheek. He had never looked at her so hard and so close before. She was so beautiful. The girl's chocolate brown eyes were wide and ringed with dusky lashes that made him catch his breath.

They stood there for a moment looking deep into each other's eyes when they were nearly bowled over by Ron who came into the common room going faster than his legs could carry him.

“OOmmpffh!” Ron collided with Harry and knocked himself onto the floor as Hermione grabbed her boyfriend to keep him upright.

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn't see…” Ron trailed off when he looked up to see his two best friends locked in a tight embrace as they peered down at him.

“Oh.” Ron grimaced.

“Sorry.” He mumbled and then scrambled away before either one could say anything to him.

“What was that about?” Harry asked her in confusion. Hermione lowered her head and worriedly watched her other best friend run away rather than talk. She sighed softly then turned back to Harry.

“Don't worry about it, Harry. We'll talk to him at dinner. What books are you bringing to the lake?” She redirected him as she patted the heavy bookbag at her hip.

“Books? What books?” He smiled at her as he showed her his Defense Against the Dark Arts book on the couch where he had placed it.

She grinned back at him and kissed the tip of his nose.

“You know the way to my heart, Harry Potter.”

“Yeah. Through the library.” He laughed.

Smacking his shoulder playfully with his DADA book, she shoved the book into her bookbag and turned to go when he pulled the heavy sack over her head.

“Hey!” She turned in surprise.

“Boyfriend's privilege.” He smiled sweetly at her as he placed the bag over his own shoulder.

“Well. That's going to make classes so much easier!” She rubbed her hands together as if she was concocting an evil plan.

He shrugged and with a grin wrapped his arm around her as they walked out the door.

Ron watched them leave together and sighed softly to himself. Without a word to anyone, he walked slowly up the stairs and into his room.

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12. Being Hermione Granger's Boyfriend

Author's notes:

Sorry if I messed up your reading yesterday, I uploaded chapter 11 and realized I had misnamed Harry's owl as Hagrid. The howlers I would have received on that would have deafened me! So I removed then replaced. Sorry. My bad.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter…so sad.

Chapter 12

Being Hermione Granger's Boyfriend

Lord Voldemort leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. The room was dimly lit by slowly dying embers that crackled in the oversized fireplace at the end of the long dark room. Rare tomes of magic were stacked haphazardly around on the floor and across a large mahogany desk filling the air with both dust and the pleasant smell of old mustiness. He was tapping his fingers softly against the broad armrest of his throne-like chair as he considered the dead man at his feet.

“I would say, `Do better next time', but the irony would escape you.” He smiled dryly at his own humor before waving his wand to remove the slightly steaming body from the room.

A soft scratch at the door caught his attention and he waved the door open with his hand. Two darkly clad men were nervously waiting to enter but both paused until the imperious man indicated they could come in. Voldemort could smell the fear on them. It was delicious.

Nott, a sullen, sallow-faced man, approached his Lord on his knees and waited for his Master to allow him to speak. Voldemort enjoyed seeing them squirm in apprehension of his moods. The last man in this room had waited just as these two, and they knew it. They had heard the screaming and pleading all the way down the corridor.

“You may tell me of your progress.” He waved his thin hand to signify his acceptance of their fealty.

Nott turned his feverish eyes up to look into his Master's emotionless face. A wild grin of pleasure at being able to finally bring good news filled his face maniacally.

“The plan progresses well, my Lord. Both subjects are welcoming our advances and know nothing of what we do. They will tell us everything they know and soon they will get us into the castle.”

Nott, so pleased with himself and his accomplishments, reached over and grabbed the armrests of the chair leaning over his Master. His eyes were wild and spittle had leaked from his mouth.

“Get off me, you oaf!” Lord Voldemort stood up shoving the man out of his way.

Nott fell on the floor in dismay and waited to be tortured for his over-familiarity. Others had died for much less. He shivered and whimpered anxiously.

The Dark Lord walked slowly around the two men as his robes billowed around his legs.

“You have done well. Very well. Soon I will kill that pretentious doddering fool and all his sycophants. That Potter boy will be first in line after Dumbledore.” He leaned his long thin body up against the fireplace mantle and waved the flames into a raging blaze. The light from the fire left his body in shadows; outlined in darkness.

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The week had flown by. Harry had very little to present to the new DA on Friday, and he was starting to get a little worried about it. The young man knew what he needed was a whole new fighting philosophy. This year had to be different. There was too much at stake. He grimly scanned his list of hexes and charms he had researched and threw it down on the library table in dissatisfaction.

Hermione was sitting next to him and was abruptly startled by his sudden movements. Being the boyfriend of Hermione Granger had greatly improved his studying skills. Being the girlfriend of Harry Potter had definitely ruined hers. She would be completely immersed in her Arithmancy homework when he would stand up and walk around the table muttering to himself under his breath.

“Harry. Go. Away.” She had endured two hours of his muttering and pacing until he was driving her insane.

“What? What's wrong `Mione?” He reached for her hand and peered searchingly into her eyes. It made her feel terrible when she saw the genuine distress on his face even though he didn't understand he was completely ruining her homework timetable.

“Never mind, Harry. Forget it.” She closed her book and turned to look at his parchment covered in spell notes and scratchouts.

“What are you working on?” She read through the list and could discern a theme. They were all spells that you could cast in a fight that would incapacitate your opponent.

“These look great, Harry. Are they for the DA?”

He ran his hands through his already messy hair and threw up his hands in frustration.

“Yes. But it isn't enough. We have to think differently than this. We have to be on the attack. There has to be a way that we can take them down quickly without leaving them time to hurt anyone else. We need to be fast! Strike quick!” He twisted around her to grab a book on Fighting Spells and thumbed it open to a chapter on Strategy.

“Strategy, humm.” He knew just who to talk to about strategy. Ron had been trouncing him at Chess for years. If there was someone who could plan an attack, Ron could do it. But Ron wasn't talking to him much, lately. Harry knew it was about his relationship with Hermione, but he hadn't wanted to face his friend and deal with it yet. He had put it out of his mind like he often did.

“I need to talk to Ron.”

Hermione bit her lip. “Ron's a little touchy right now. I don't think he's too happy about us.”

“Yeah. I know.” Harry slumped back into the stiff backed library chair and leaned closer to the girl in front of him.

“Well, he'll just have to get over it. I'm not giving you up for anything.” He smiled widely as a light blush covered her face.

Harry tentatively leaned in and softly kissed her. The kiss was slow and chaste and full of the wonder of first love, and it left Hermione breathless.

He pulled back and smiled gently at her. He had messed his hair up with his frustrated hands so much he looked like he had just been flying. His glasses had slipped down his nose and he had an ink smudge across his left cheek, but she had never thought him so handsome before. With more courage than she ever thought she'd have, she leaned in and surprised him by kissing him back.

“Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger! Stop that at once!” A voice stridently cut into the air startling them enough that Harry fell out of the chair and onto the floor.

Madame Pince, the librarian was standing right over the two teens with righteous fury.

“I had expected more from you, Ms. Granger! Take your things and carry on somewhere else. The library is not for romantic trysts.” She imperiously pointed the completely red-faced couple out the door as the rest of the students in the library clapped and catcalled.

The doors slammed shut leaving them out in the hall as they could hear the muffled voice of the librarian calling for quiet.

Hermione looked scandalized and she was nearly hysterical chattering on about “Never allowed back into the library,” and “Madame Pince was so angry.”

“Hermione! Hermione, wait! Don't worry. If Fred and George were allowed back into the library after blowing up a whole section of books with fireworks, then we'll not be banned for snogging in the corner. Don't worry, so much! It'll be alright. Besides, I kinda like snogging you. I plan on doing it pretty much everywhere.”

She glared at him and couldn't help but laugh at his silly Groucho Marx impression.

“It's just so embarrassing. Everyone was laughing!” she couldn't help but sniffle a little.

“No, they were clapping. Apparently we were doing it right.” He grinned.

“Funny, Harry. Really funny.”

She sighed softly and leaned into his shoulder as he braced himself against the wall comfortably.

“Sorry to be so hysterical. I've been a little keyed up lately. Not enough sleep.” She absently rubbed her wrist with the irritated burn mark.

Harry turned her around and put his forehead against hers. “Why don't we go upstairs to the common room and we can sit by the fire and study all the books you want. Okay? No mean librarians there, I promise.”

The girl smiled and rubbed her nose lightly to his. “That would be marvelous.”

He grabbed her hand and twined her fingers through his own. It was several flights up the changing stairs to the Gryffindor Tower and they walked slowly hand in hand. Their feet knew the way by heart and they were surreptitiously catching each other's eyes and grinning at one another when Professor Snape rounded the corner nearly knocking Hermione down in his hurry.

“My apologies, I didn't see…” The professor started to express regret for his hurry until he saw to whom he was speaking.

“Miss Granger and Mr. Potter. How touching. Do you normally like to block the walkways? Or were you unaware of where you were going when you were making cow eyes at each other? The hormones in this place are overwhelming. Well? Why are you still in my way? Move on! Move out of my way you dull-witted buffoons!”

Harry and Hermione were staring mouth-open at the man as he prodded his way through them with growl.

“Professor! Who do you think you are…Owww!” He got no further when Hermione punched him in the shoulder to make him quiet down.

Snape paused and turned around with an expression of seething hatred.

“I am your better, Mr. Potter. That is what I am. Don't think that because you have the Headmaster believing you are something special means you really are something special. You are merely another snotty little brat given more than his fair share. I can't stand the sight of you. Ten points from Gryffindor for blocking the hallways. So. Stay out of my way.”

Harry and Hermione turned their heads in dismay and watched the rubies disappear from the glass jar holding their House points.

Hermione gripped his arm tightly but Harry wasn't going to say a word. He pursed his lips rigidly and watched the dark man turn in a billow of black robes down the corridor. I hate that man. He thought to himself.

They continued up the stairs to their door entrance and smiled at the new password as they whispered together, “Weazley's Wheezes Now Open in Hogsmede!” They climbed into their Common Room and happily found it mostly empty. Their favorite spot was just waiting for them.

After settling in front of the fire, she soon found herself nodding off. It was so warm and cozy, and Harry's arm was wrapped around her shoulder as they sat together against the foot of the couch with books in each others laps. In moments she drifted off laying her head against his chest.

The dream started so sweetly. She and Harry were together at the lake walking hand in hand. The breeze was light and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. She couldn't hear anything, however and she felt like she was watching a movie with the sound turned down almost completely. With a suddenness that scared her, the air changed to deep, biting cold and she saw dark, ominous clouds rolling in and surrounding them both in a whipping cold storm. She turned to Harry and she saw a look of horror on his face. Instead of being at the lake they were suddenly transported to the Department of Mysteries. Low whispers could be heard swirling around her, but she couldn't tell who was speaking. The voice kept asking about the prophecy, but she didn't know anything to tell. She could see the man in the glass bell turning into a baby over and over and she couldn't hear herself screaming, but she could feel it. It was a grating harsh pain in her throat as the scream silently ripped out of her. She looked around her to see that Harry was horribly still and lying dead at her feet. Rushing towards him she could see him grow smaller and smaller as everything started to spin…

Harry was shaking her awake and she couldn't stop herself from sobbing into his chest as he held her close. Hermione gripped his jacket roughly with her hands and rubbed her eyes hard against the soft fabric.

He was safe. It was only a nightmare.

Her sobs subsided and she looked up into his worried face.

“Does Ron hold you like this when you wake up from a nightmare?” She joked half-heartedly.

He breathed out a half laugh/ half sob as he drew her in close. She had burrowed down to snuggle under his arm and was breathing more steadily but was having trouble with hiccups.

“I usually throw him in the shower, don't I, Harry.” Ron had come in a few moments before to witness Hermione thrashing in a nightmare. It had scared him to death. Harry had her in hand, but he could see his best friend was shaking like a leaf. This was Hermione, for Merlin's sake. She was the rock. Harry had dreams like this, but when did she start? Ron stooped down next to the couple and grabbed the girl into a rough embrace.

“Are you alright, Hermione? Do you want to go see Madame Pomfrey? I can get her to come here if you want…” He was shaking as well.

“It's just a nightmare, boys. I've been having them a little lately. I know Harry's had some so I'm not abnormal or anything.” She hugged Ron back and shakily stood up. Nervously, she rubbed her wrist and looked up at the clock that read nearly midnight.

“I'm so sorry, `Mione. If I hadn't dragged you to the Ministry…if I didn't leave you alone in that street to be shot with hexes…if I…”

She stopped him there with a hand at his mouth. She stared him hard in the eyes and merely shook her head.

“Harry. It is not your fault that I have nightmares. Don't take everything on yourself like that. I've been enjoying the happy version of Harry Potter. I like the one that sneaks a snog in the library and carries my books to class. Don't become that morose creature I met on the train. Okay?”

Harry smiled wanly at his girlfriend then nodded assent.

“I'll see you both in the morning. We have double Potions first thing, you know. You did do your homework, Ron, didn't you?” Harry grimaced with the thought of seeing that git Snape again.

Ron grinned to see the old Hermione he was used to. If she was questioning his homework she couldn't be doing that bad. She smiled at both of them then trudged up the stairs to go to her dorm.

Ron and Harry watched her go then they both picked up the mess that Hermione had made when she flailed about in her dream. After straightening the books and piling them into the corner, they both silently climbed the stairs to their beds.

Ron paused just before they opened the door.

“Stealing snogs in the library?” He raised his eyebrows mockingly.

“Shaddup.” Harry grinned in relief and shoved his friend through the open doorway.

7

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13. Being Harry Potter's Girlfriend

Chapter 13

Being Harry Potter's Girlfriend

Harry leaned back on his stool, tipping it onto two legs until they felt like they would crack. The dungeon was cold and dank, but the boy was so mad, he could imagine the chill settling around him like a cloud of steam. Class was almost over and he felt like running out of the room screaming while throwing hexes right and left. The Potions Professor, Snape was being as nasty as ever, but now instead of Harry being his favorite one to pick on and humiliate, he was antagonizing Hermione, gleefully aware of the seething young man seated behind her next to Ron.

“Why hasn't anyone turned him into a toad yet? Aren't wizards and witches known for that sort of thing?” Harry hissed through his teeth at his brewing partner, Ron.

His tall and gangly friend snorted in reply but kept stirring the cauldron counter-clockwise while counting softly under his breath. Just a few more ingredients and the tedious potion would be ready to simmer. Ron glanced at his friend and rolled his eyes at the searing glare Harry was directing at the Potions Professor. Harry had shredded a pile of dried mugwort into a tattered mound of useless twigs. Ron sighed and handed Harry another stack of roots to dismember. It at least kept him occupied.

At a final swirl of the stir stick, Ron pulled back and squinted at his potion. It was at least slightly blue, and not neon green and sparking like Neville's; but it still looked slightly off. He peered back at the instructions on the board, and counted back in his mind over all the ingredients. Harry had been no help whatsoever this class. He hadn't taken his eyes off Snape since the professor had started harassing Hermione over the way she cut her roots or how she stirred her potion. Ron was just glad Harry hadn't flipped out completely. He remembered several classes with the former Defense teacher, Ms. Umbridge; where Harry had utterly lost it. Today Ron could see the color on Harry's face get redder and redder just like before. Ron was sure it wasn't going to be long now until his friend went combustible.

Actually, Hermione was enjoying her potions class. Every remark Snape made about how she performed her experiment was so pathetic she could tell he was just trying to make Harry blow up so as to get him in trouble. Hermione was actually a little glad of the attention. At least this way she knew Professor Snape really was aware that she knew what she was doing. He had always made such nasty comments about her in class that being able to shove her talent with brewing right up his beaky nose made her stand straighter and put a small grin on her face.

“Too fast, Miss Granger. I expect better from a six level. Shoddy potions workmanship could cause worse damage than any hex.” He glowered over his shoulder at the girl as he strode down the isle looking like a bird of prey.

Neville gulped as the darkly dressed man paced behind his workstation. He couldn't keep his hands steady when the professor stopped and hovered behind him. Neville was doomed. A clatter of spoons and a large splash later, Neville's face and hands were covered in lime green muck spattered up from his cauldron. Shiny green scales erupted from his skin and the frightened boy found himself flicking a forked tongue and hissing to himself. Professor Snape swished his wand and the bubbling muck in the boy's cauldron disappeared.

“Ten points from Gryffindor. You'll go to the nurse after class. Until then, please write an essay on what you did wrong with your potion. I expect it before the end of class.”

Neville blinked his now dragon-like eyes and sniffed from his newly elongated snout. How he was supposed to write with claws for hands he didn't know, but he scrambled across his desk for parchment and at least looked busy. The Potions Professor grimaced in disgust and spun around to see who wasn't attending to their own potions and were watching Neville's astonishing display.

Hermione couldn't hide her sense of loathing. How a teacher could browbeat a student like that made her furious. It would serve him right to get his own back once in a while. A sneaky little idea suddenly popped into her brain when the hawk-nosed teacher had begun his harangue. She had remembered a similarly colored potion to the one they were currently brewing that caused a distasteful reaction of putting hair all over one's face and body. It was only a few ingredients different and it only needed to be topically applied. With a stealthy gleam in her eye, she slipped the small changes into the pot then purposely leaned over the cauldron as if examining it carefully. Snape couldn't resist. He strode over and leaned his face in to see what mistake she had discovered about her potion. With a quick flick, she pulled back on her spoon, and splattered the man's face with the sticky blue solution. Hermione stepped back and affected dismay at the professor's rapidly growing beard and, well, fur.

“Sir, I knew I had mistaken an ingredient or two, I was so upset! What could have happened? Professor! Should I call Madame Pomfrey?” Hermione had mastered the wide-eyed innocent face that all girls learn to use in certain situations and was using it to perfection.

The class couldn't keep from staring at Snape, they all stood dumbstruck with stir sticks dripping in the air, unsure whether to laugh at the man or run away in fear of being hexed. The professor was dripping blue goo from his protuberant nose and was quickly turning into a rather good facsimile of the Wolf-Man. The low growling didn't help dispel the image at all.

“Class dismissed!” He shrieked as he stalked away leaving the class with full bubbling cauldrons and a good half hour of class remaining. Everyone just stood there looking at each other before shrugging to one another, then magically removing their potions and filing out of the door.

Hermione waited stiff-backed with her face to the front of the room until everyone but Ron and Harry had left. She hid her face from the two boys as she waved them out the door in front of her. Worriedly, they shoved all their books and parchments haphazardly into their bags and put away the cauldron as slowly as they could.

Her whole body was shaking, and she ran out the door with her head down.

“Go! Go! I can't hold it any longer!” She gasped with tears running down her cheeks.

“Hermione? Are you alright? I'll kill that evil toad for everything he said! I am sure that he will…”

Harry pulled back his angry tirade when he caught her laughing so hard she doubled up and threw her book bag on the floor. Large, full tears were coursing down her cheeks and she was laughing so much, no sound was coming out anymore. She started gasping for air and reached her hands out to a completely confused Ron and Harry.

“Could you possibly believe that I would mess up the Festinatio potion? I could do that one with my eyes closed!” She hiccupped loudly as she giggled.

Both the boys stared dumbfounded at the normally prim and proper and law-abiding girl. Her cheeks were red as apples and her grin spread from ear to ear. Ron turned and grabbed Harry by the shoulders.

“What have you been teaching this girl? She was so sweet when we met. Remember when she thought getting expelled was worse than death? Here you have her performing pranks on the teachers!” Ron shook his head mockingly and clapped a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

“Don't let him corrupt you completely, my girl. However, when my brothers hear about this your stock will definitely go up in their books.” Ron beamed down at his friend and grabbed her hand to help her up from the floor.

Their laughter rang down the hallway as they walked together to the already buzzing Great Hall for lunch.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The crowds were blowing on their hands and stamping their feet to keep their blood flowing in the first really cold day that heralded the opening Quidditch match of the season. The Slytherins were playing against their favorite enemy, the Gryffindors, and tempers were flying high.

The Red and Gold team was flying high above the pitch running relays and cross path formations to warm up for the upcoming competition. Harry had finally been convinced to take on his old Seeker position, much to the relief of Ginny Weasley who was a much better Chaser and had taken that role instead. It was odd to not see the Weasley twins in their beater spots, but the “new pranksters”, Jervy and Bartley, had taken to the positions with abandon. Ron floated around his goal with a hawk-like concentration on his face even though the game had yet to begin.

Malfoy's team was huddled together on the ground around their own goal posts whispering plots and counter plots that would bring down their enemies to the Slytherin's greatest advantage. Malfoy would turn every once and a while and throw his arms up making the whole Green and Silver side of the stands erupt in cheers and stamping feet. Harry thought he looked like a maniacal cheerleader with his prancing and posing. The blonde Slytherin kept throwing sneering grins up in the direction of the Red and Gold team. Harry knew they were planning something underhanded, but what else was new?

Before long, Madame Hooch whistled loudly and the match began. Harry swung high and positioned himself above the fray so he could keep an eye on the match and still hunt out the snitch. The air was colder there, and Harry kept rubbing his gloved hand together in anticipation. He loved the feeling of absolute abandon that flying gave him mixed with the fierce concentration finding the snitch required. It seemed strange that two completely opposite things meshed so well in Quidditch. That was one of the delightful but oddly brilliant things about magic that he loved.

He swooped down in wide circles to warm himself up and ready his mind and body for the exercise to come. He could make out Hermione in the stands as she jumped up and down and waved his direction. He grinned and flew fast over the tops of the Gryffindor crowd buzzing their capped heads and causing them to whoop in delight. He could hear the boos from the crowd across the stands, but that only made his House yell all the louder. He carried himself up higher and settled in to scan the horizon for the elusive glimmer of the snitch.

Jervy and Bartley were brilliantly rushing the other beaters and swooping circles around the chasers making the Slytherin team spout angry threats against them. Harry couldn't help but laugh when Jervy smashed Nott right in the backside with the bludger as the Slytherin had bent over to fly his broom lower.

With a loud laugh, the announcers gleefully noted the masterful move and suddenly everyone recognized the Weasley Twins as the ones commenting on the game. A loud roaring cheer erupted as the two young men were clapped on the back and generally shoved about. Harry waved at the two and even Ron was seen grinning from his guard position.

“Can't seem to get rid of those two, can we?” Professor McGonagall grimaced playfully at the Headmaster.

“They always seem to be in the mix of things, don't they, Minerva? I wonder how they came to have that commentator's position. Do you know anything about it?” He openly grinned at the smirking Transfiguration Professor. He knew she had a soft spot for the twins even though she always acted as if they were the bane of her life. He didn't doubt she had fallen prey again to their conniving ways.

“Well, Gred, it seems our protégés are working out magnificently if I must say so.”

George nodded to his brother as if they were watching the Ascot race instead of witnessing teenagers bludger each other mercilessly.

“Yes. I must say.” Fred agreed.

“It looks as if our younger sister has knocked young Baddock off of his broom with a right hook. Wasn't that quite lovely?”

“Quite!” Fred agreed as he drank a cup of tea.

Lee Jordan was sitting behind them laughing so hard he couldn't speak. He shook his head and grabbed them both with his arms around their necks.

“Don't you think you should comment on the game a little and stop acting like complete gits?” Lee grinned at the two boys who looked back at him with their noses in the air.

“Who lets the riff-raff in these days?” Fred brushed Lee's arms off and straightened his clothing as if it were much finer than the loud neon yellow tee-shirts that proclaimed, “Weasley's Wheezes are Wonderific!” in bold type face that changed colors randomly.

Hermione was sitting next to Neville as they watched the game progress. She had brought a book from the library, but for once she couldn't help but pay attention to the match. It was different now that Harry was her boyfriend. It mattered when he was just her friend, but now, she wanted him to know she really was watching. She was bored out of her mind, but she hid it well. She gasped and grabbed her book close to her chest when Harry dived nose first in a swooping arc that nearly crashed him into the goal posts until he pulled up into a tight save. She didn't let out her breath until he saw her and waved. She knew he was acting a little foolish on her account, so she rolled her eyes and waved back even though she wanted to throttle him for making her almost pass out.

Neville had never been one to care much for Quidditch, but he watched so he wouldn't be left out of the conversations that inevitably happened in the dorm room every night. He liked to fly, but he wasn't that great at the whole quaffle thing. He'd rather be doing racing or just doing rolls and twists. He liked to have both hands on the broom, though, and that didn't help when you are trying to make points with a ball in your hand. Malfoy always said stupid things about how he knew he couldn't fly at all, which was a bald-faced lie. Neville wasn't the only one who really wished he could someday shove that Slytherin's face into the smelly pile just outside Hagrid's hut.

The boy sat with his body propped against the next bench above him and he absently rubbed his wrist. He had a burn just like Hermione's that he had scratched until it had scabbed over in a painful red itchy patch. Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand to keep him from ripping the scab right off.

“Neville! It will never heal if you keep picking at it! Look. Mine has gotten much better. We must have been hit by the same spell at the Hogsmede attack. Mine is still red, but if you don't mess with it, it will eventually go away.”

Neville grimaced at her but he did stop scratching. These matches always take so long. He thought. At least Hermione is sitting next to me. That's something! He couldn't help stealing a glance at the pretty girl next to him. He knew she and Harry were going out, but he could still dream, couldn't he?

Ron had caught three in a row which sent the whole side of the stadium that wasn't Slytherin into rolls of yells and screams. Even the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Houses were cheering for Gryffindor. It was the beginning of the season with no one in the lead as yet, and Slytherin was notoriously the hated of the four. Luna Lovegood, of Ravenclaw, could be seen from a mile away wearing her ridiculous lion hat that roared off and on at odd moments.

Without missing a beat, the Gryffindor team swooped into formation and narrowly hooked another goal by side swiping the Slytherin beaters and confusing their chasers until Ginny could throw one in. Harry was watching carefully for the snitch and was studying Malfoy out of the corner of his eye as well. He knew the blonde boy had something up his sleeve, but they were winning by sixty points and he couldn't help but grin at the other boy's obvious anger.

Hermione had finally thrown her book down and was standing up and cheering with the others around her. Lavender was jumping up and down and had grabbed her hands around Dean Thomas' neck making the boy's face get redder and redder from lack of oxygen.

Hours passed and the wind started to pick up sending couples happily into snuggle position. It was getting colder, and the match was still pretty even after three hours of play. Neville's eyes were glazing over with boredom. Why don't I just sneak out? He thought to himself. No one would miss him, and maybe he could get some time in at the Herbology lab all by himself for once. He could practically hear a voice in his head agreeing with him. Almost as if he wasn't in control of his own actions, he stood up without even speaking to Hermione and slid down the row to the stairs. He was happy and whistling a little to himself. It was good to get out away from everyone else, sometimes.

He walked down the stairs and turned to his left to where Filch was standing muttering to himself. Neville reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. With a gentle, “Dormire,” Neville cast a sleep spell on Filch who slid softly against the wall in a grunting and whiffing snore.

He's gone to sleep. How odd. He thought to himself. The boy stared blankly at the caretaker then smiled vacantly as he pulled the school's master keys off the man's left hip. Yes, I think I'll go to the Herbology lab. That will be lovely. He continued whistling to himself as he pushed the sleeping figure roughly into a nearby cubby and locked it. Without a backward glance, he happily walked out the stadium toward the Castle. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and jauntily started humming `Weasley is our King.' He frowned a little when he pulled the large ring of keys out of his pocket and stared at them disinterestedly. Just some trash in my pocket, it seems. Shrugging to himself, he pitched the handful of keys hard across the Hogwarts apparition barrier. Continuing on, he spent the rest of the afternoon ensconced in the lab puttering around to his hearts content.

Soon after Neville had entered the Herbology building, a dark figure appeared just outside the Hogwarts barrier line. Nott chuckled to himself at the ease the boy's mind became his plaything. The bracelet had done its trick and no one had noticed the boy's departure. The caretaker's magical keys glittered on the ground and Nott grabbed them and held them close. Next time, I am going to use the girl. If I get her to kill that Potter boy, I know my master will be very pleased! Nott laughed wildly then apparated into nothingness.

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14. Rubbish For Brains

Chapter 14

Rubbish for Brains

Hermione watched in confusion as Neville bustled away from the crowds in the Hogwarts Quidditch stadium. He was moving so oddly, while muttering softly under his breath, that she followed him with her eyes until his scrunchy woolen hat drifted out of view.

She wouldn't have minded trading this drafty cold stadium for the brightly warm couch in front of the Gryffindor fire, either.

She had endured both Harry and Ron getting bludgered at least once and she had chewed her nails on her left hand completely off while watching in fury and righteous indignation at each painful hit. It was all she could stand to see both of her friends being hurt even if they acted as if being slammed in the face was the highlight of their year.

Boys must have rubbish for brains.

She shook her head sadly as she rolled her eyes and sighed half-heartedly at the total insanity of her best friend and her boyfriend as they waved heartily at her with both boys sporting newly blossoming bruises across their faces.

The chill was whispering in as the cold air slid through gaps in her muffler and ran racing fingers of drafty frostiness across her face and down her neck. She blew hard on her hands and tried to sit on them to keep them warm, but the ice-cold stadium seats were metal and merely made her colder than before. It was moments like these she remembered her Mum and Dad and caught herself drifting into homesickness. When she was a little girl, they would go to football matches as a family and her parents would wrap their arms around her creating a warm nest that was both mother and father and home all in one. Hermione closed her eyes tightly and she could almost feel her father's arms around her shoulders.

Suddenly, a loud roar shattered her reverie and the match was over. Shrieks of dismay from the Slytherin crowd were overpowered by the joyous cheers of the rest of the school. Harry had caught the snitch and dumped Malfoy onto the ground as the Slytherin had missed an attempt at a rolling grab and found himself face first in the unseasonably bright green grass. Hermione could just make out the angry boy's words which were quite obviously rude from his body language and manner.

If words were swords, Harry would be sliced into little bits by now.

Hermione grimaced at the venomous looks Draco was throwing at Harry as he clawed bits of grass and dirt out of his mouth and off his face.

With a swooping bow, Harry tipped an imaginary hat toward the angry boy and laughed as he held up the snitch in his triumphant hands. The Gryffindor team rolled and barreled around him in flying glee at the first win of the season. Hermione was up and screaming with all the others who wore red and gold and she couldn't help but grab onto Dean Thomas' already red face and shake him as hard as Lavender did. He merely rolled his eyes as he pried her hands off his neck and redirected her jumping and screaming to face the other girls who were doing the same.

The hallways and house of Gryffindor took hours to calm to a manageable roar. The Weasley Twins had redecorated the main wall of the common room with a repeating picture of Malfoy heading face first into the dirt and the succeeding scene of him spitting grass and invectives at Harry. It ran similarly like a movie on perpetual rewind and Fred and George sat in front of it like two movie critics commenting on how they enjoyed it every single time. Dobby had filled the room with treats that were sneaked in by other willing house-elves who always loved to give a party, no matter the reason. Ron was paraded around in full king regalia that had been magicked from a now very disgruntled painting of some vague nobility from some bygone era now having to hide behind a bush or suffer public nudity. Several of the girls were following him about the room and giggled quite loudly as Ron threw out imperial commands for cake which they immediately curtsied and brought to him to his obvious delight. Ginny couldn't help but roll her eyes at her brother's silly display but eventually found herself paying little attention to him as a few older and rather handsome boys had circled her into a corner and were bringing her treats from the dessert tray as well.

Hermione had raced in with the rest of the crowd encircling the Quidditch team. She had laughingly bewitched the now infamous “king” costume for Ron and was currently sitting perched on the window seat watching her friends in all their insanity. She chuckled to herself to see Harry so happy and animated as he mimicked Malfoy and his tirade in front of the picture show. It was good to see Harry so normal and silly. Everything had been so disturbing and ominous for so long, she could barely remember when it had seemed so dire.

Hermione was about to get up and approach Harry when a gaggle of girls swooped in and encircled the Quidditch hero. The girls surrounded him and draped themselves as close as humanly possible. Hermione frowned and her brow creased a little as she saw Harry laughing while he seemed to enjoy the spectacle. Several red lip prints covered his face and neck where the girls had pounced him. He still had his Quidditch uniform on and was wearing the dirt and sweat as a badge of honor. He had an adoring crowd of third years sitting on the floor in front of him hanging on his every word. Pulled up onto the couch like it was a stage, his grin was huge and he was reveling in the attention. He sat down with a flourish and Lavender and Parvati snuggled in beside him. With a laugh, he stole his arms around them. She rolled her eyes and was just about to put her hand on his shoulder and laugh with him when he leaned down to the crowd and stage-whispered, “Just don't tell Hermione, and everything will be great! She's probably got her nose in a book anyway!”

Her hand froze and she could see Neville's eyes grow wide as he looked up and caught her expression from the side. A voice inside her head whispered terrible things to her. The voice wanted her to yell and scream and rip at Harry for saying such things.

The boy hissed for Harry's attention, but Harry had become completely immersed in the fun. Neville winced as he saw the slowly angering girl tilt her head and slowly cross her arms. Neville silently said a prayer of thanks for some of the small blessings of NOT having a girlfriend. Harry didn't know what he was in for. Harry was laughing hard and had the two girls around the waist who were still giving him kisses. Slowly everyone in the circle around the boy stopped laughing and noticed the girl simmering behind Harry's back.

Harry stopped laughing.

“She's right behind me, isn't she.” He winced and gulped as he slowly disentangled himself from his groupies and he turned to face his girlfriend.

“It was just a joke!” He pleaded while ineffectually scrubbing at the lip prints across his face and neck. Their red lip rouge had smeared and his frantic efforts made it look much worse.

“I didn't find it funny, Harry.” The girl whispered softly in a quiet tone that sent chills down the backs of several boys who suddenly remembered similar incidents in their own past and felt sincere pity for the black-haired boy.

Without another word, she spun on her heels and flung herself through the Portrait hole. Ron tried to stop her but a searing look from the girl caused him to back off with his hands up in obvious withdrawal.

“Excuse me, but remind me to never get relationship advice from you, Harry.” Ron shook his head in sympathy.

“Shut up, Ron!” Harry growled. He stormed up the stairs punching the stone wall as he went.

“Aren't you going to go after her?” Neville asked the question everyone was wondering.

“You shut up, too!” Harry yelled from the top of the stairs then slammed the door to the dormitory.

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Hermione stormed down the stairs cursing men in general under her breath until her shoe slipped and she caught herself hard against the wall. Her ankle had twisted a little on the lip of the step when her shoe had come untied and the pain brought tears to her eyes as she landed roughly on the next step.

“Stupid shoes!” She yelled as loud as she could. Tears were flowing down her cheeks for a reason having nothing to do with the slight pain in her foot.

“Stupid miserable insensitive prat!” She whispered more softly through a sniffle and a huff as she tried to gather herself back together. Maybe she did read too much. She never thought being a bookworm was something you could make much fun of. She found herself staring at herself in an old battered mirror in the hallway. Hermione pulled at her hair to tame it a little and rubbed at her eyes where the redness was so awful. The mirror sighed softly and murmured, “It's alright sweetie, you look right lovely. Those silly boys never know what they're saying.”

Hermione snorted at the mirror in disgust then slid closer to the wall and leaned into the chill of the stone castle. Hogwarts had always felt comforting even on the coldest days. In moments of loneliness, she could find a cubby or corner of sunshine in a small terrace or unused tower room and she could feel like the castle would greet her and make her feel welcome.

She knew so much about the history of the old stone keep from Hogwarts, A History, that she kind of thought of it as its own personality. The moving stairs, the room of requirement, all these were just humorous things about a kindly old building with an interesting character of its own. She noticed as she leaned into the wall, it softly molded to almost hold her in consolation. Hermione patted the wall with a sniffle and laughed a little at her silly ideas. She rubbed her ankle gingerly then gently stood back up on it to test it. A little wobbly still, but sound.

Thinking back to the blowup in the common room, she shook her head in anger and hurt. It almost felt like there was a thought in the back of her head that she wanted to strike at Harry and make him pay for making her the laughingstock of the whole Gryffindor house. Her anger and fierce desire to cause him pain had scared her and she fled before she ended up saying something she would have regretted. She had never felt such surging hatred before, especially for Harry. She loved Harry, didn't she? Well, she really liked him and who knows where that was going to go in the future. She certainly didn't have feelings of complete hatred against anyone like that before. It had shaken her badly leaving her feeling chilled and very alone.

She wiped at her eyes harshly, and quietly slipped down the stairs to hide in the library, while absently scratching the slowly reddening band of skin around her wrist.

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Harry threw off his uniform and set the water in the shower on full hot. He deserved a little scalding after such an idiotic mess he made. He hated the limelight! What in the world had gotten into him? Schmoozing with Lavender for heaven's sake! Everyone knows what a tart she can be. How could he have even forgotten about Hermione in the same room, either? He was an idiot. He knew it. And now everyone else knew it. That had to be the shortest relationship in the history of Hogwarts.

Finally clean, he kicked his uniform into the corner at that moment hating everything about Quidditch. He grabbed the clothes out of his drawers which he didn't even notice were the castoffs he had recently replaced, and he sullenly wandered downstairs ignoring everyone who tried to catch his eyes.

Within moments he was at the library where he knew Hermione would go to hide. Not a great hiding place, he had to admit since everyone knew where she was, but he knew she felt safe there. He spied her in the far corner and with absolute certainty he was about to be hexed into oblivion, he walked over with his head down and his hands thrust into his pockets.

Her eyes were dry, but very red and he knew he had made her cry. He felt rotten. She had her hands in her lap and was clenching hard around her worry ball that she'd been carrying all term.

He pulled a chair out across the table from her and sat down without looking her in the face.

“I don't know what to say. I'm sorry for being a complete git.” He wouldn't look her in the eye and was instead focusing with all his might on the frayed edge of a book of traveling spells as if it would somehow give him the perfect words to say.

“You just completely forgot I was even there, didn't you? I thought you liked me, but I guess I was just available, then?” She spoke quietly and wavered so little that the final crack in her voice made Harry cringe in self-loathing for hurting her.

She had pulled her hands up onto the table and was focusing all her thought on the little round Hogwarts sphere rather than looking at him. He swallowed quietly then put his hands on hers who reacted by stiffening to his touch.

“I wish I could go back in time and change all that.” Harry whispered softly to Hermione who looked up through her lashes filled with tears.

At that moment a sharp acrid smell of smoke and the reverberating sound of a loud gong filled their ears and they tried to stand up, finding themselves unable to separate at the hands. The round ball was glowing and getting very warm to the touch. Hermione tried to yell something at Harry but he couldn't hear a thing with the bell noise so loud. It was getting harder and harder to see with the smoke and their hands were getting really hot. In seconds, however, the sound and smoke vanished and everything appeared as if nothing had happened.

Hermione snatched back her hands and shoved the still warm sphere into her robe pockets while standing up and knocking over her chair. Harry stared gape-mouthed at her and dismally watched her flee the library in tears.

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15. Finding Your Roots...

Author's Notes:

I don't like having miles of author's notes, so this is it. Thanks for all the reviews and kind words! It is so neat to be on someone's favorite list. I had no idea so many people would read and like my story. For those who don't like it…'raspberries'!

Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter belongs to the great JK.

Chapter 15

Finding your Roots

Hermione snuffled a little and kept looking back over her shoulder to see if he was going to follow her. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted him to or not. Well, actually she knew she really wanted him to, who was she kidding? It was their first fight as a couple and neither of them knew how to do it anymore. If they were just friends, she'd would've yelled at him and made him suffer for a week doing his own homework without any help while making snarky comments. After a while she'd relent and Harry would be particularly nice for a while until Ron did something stupid and they gang up and laugh at her together.

Now, all she wanted to do was go cuddle up into his shoulder even though she was still mad at him! What craziness was that? He was in the wrong acting like a stupid idiot and making her feel bad, and all she wanted was him to say silly “I'm sorry's,” and hug her close and make her feel wanted. That definitely wasn't the old pattern at all.

After seeing Harry in the library she knew his silly antics didn't really mean anything, and that he was just playing around; but it still hurt her feelings. She hated to admit to herself that she was really very insecure about Harry. She had so much to lose if he really didn't like her like she liked him. Or loved him. That was a scary idea. It felt right, but still very grown-up and serious. Love him.

She's always loved him. Friends love each other and care about each other. Throughout all their adventures he had always looked to her as an equal and at the same time tried to make sure she was always alright. She smiled softly to herself and right then decided she wasn't going to play all those mind games the other girls always did to the poor sods that dated them. She wasn't going to run anymore and when she found Harry, she'd tell him she understood the situation and that she knew he meant no harm by it. Lav and Parvati would've made their boyfriends jump through hoops and buy them presents to make them happy. She just wanted Harry.

The relief she felt cleared most of the heartache away and she felt better than she had felt in ages. She had been walking aimlessly while she had been thinking and found herself back in front of the Gryffindor portrait hole and the Fat Lady.

“Weasley's Weezes now open in Hogsmede!” She mumbled to the painted lady while rolling her eyes.

“You'll have to speak up, dear. I don't think that was right. You've got the right robes, but not the right words. Maybe you need to wait for the prefect.” The Lady barely took notice of the girl as she was trying to catch the attention of a certain knight in a painting across the hall.

“I AM the prefect and I know this is right…” Hermione stamped her foot impatiently and perched her hands on her hips in frustration.

Several Gryffindor-robed fourth years bounded up behind the girl and shouted, “Cockroach clusters!” as the painting hastily opened in fear of being torn from her frame in their rush.

Rather than wait around, Hermione shrugged and climbed through the passageway into a now much nicer common room. She was startled to see how rich and lustrous the tapestries and couches looked. The stained glass was missing from the dormer windows and the bookshelves that covered most of the west wall were also gone. Everything was the same and yet…slightly different. She stood there in the middle of the room not recognizing anyone at all.

Three girls about her age were staring at her curiously and whispering to themselves. They were similarly fair haired and each of them had woven their hair in simple plaits in a much younger style than Lavender or Pavarti would have permitted. She could hear them whispering about how odd her trainers were and questioning if anyone had ever seen her before.

Hermione was starting to get a little worried.

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Harry sat in the chair in the library as if he weighed a thousand pounds. He couldn't seem to move. He wanted to follow her, and he wanted to tell her again how sorry he was and somehow make her tears go away. He also wanted to just go hide in the cupboard and not deal with it all. At least in the cupboard he knew where he stood. There he was wrong, he was punished and life went on.

He finally pushed off the chair and wandered out of the library. She was nowhere to be seen. He scanned ahead down the corridor but he saw no one. He snapped his fingers when he remembered the marauder's map sitting in his trunk three stories above him in his dorm room. She would be easily found there and he could make a game plan on the way figuring out precisely how to grovel and make up. Groveling was looking pretty good now. Anything to make her eyes not fill with tears again. He couldn't stand to disappoint her like that. And that was exactly what he had done. She trusted him and he'd cracked jokes about her in front of the whole house.

He passed the familiar tapestry that was near the Room of Requirement, and he realized it didn't hurt to see what Hogwarts thought he needed to make up with Hermione. Of all the “people” who had seen it all, the castle always knew what they needed when they needed it.

With three passes he turned and the door never appeared. He looked around and checked to make sure this was the right place. Yes, the dirty old tapestry was the right one. He remembered it well from all the D.A. meetings. He shook his head and did the three laps again. Nothing.

I guess the Castle is against me on this one.

He grimaced in frustration and gave up. He shrugged and trudged up the next stairway that was turning his direction until a group of Slytherins, on their way down, stopped him.

“I didn't think the servants were allowed up here after hours. Get your grubby self back down to the dungeons and get out of the wizards' way, squib!” The speaker was a tall, fair, snubby-nosed boy around sixteen who stood glowering over Harry in a way very reminiscent of Draco Malfoy.

“Give'm a scare, Rigel!” The two hulking minions that flanked the fair-haired wizard egged him on. `Rigel' smiled maliciously and slowly pulled out his wand.

Harry cocked his eyebrow and leaned against the wall nonchalantly.

“So, you're a big, scary wizard and I should be afraid, you say?” Harry had put his hands in his pockets and the oversized sleeves of Dudley's old ratty sweatshirt hid his pulling out his wand.

“None of your cheek! Students are commanded to wear their robes at all times outside of their House, therefore you must be a servant! Servants should be seen and not heard! In my house, if a servant disobeys, we whip them till they have enough scars to remember it by.” Rigel was seething as his eyes narrowed and he pointed his wand right at Harry's head.

Harry grinned mirthlessly. “I've had it up to here with scars.” He saluted his forehead lightning bolt, then pointed his own wand right between Rigel's eyes. The Slytherin's eyes widened for a split second, then narrowed spitefully.

“Stealing a wizard's wand, Squib, is grounds for removal, you know. I think I'll remove you right now. No one will miss another dirty Squib…” He started to mutter a curse.

Harry flicked his wand tip like a rapier, and shouted, “Coalesco Certus!” The Slytherin's mouth dropped open mid-word and he looked down to see his feet and the bottom of his robes merge and take root into the stairs. Knobby root strings shot out from his feet and wrapped themselves around the banister rails. The boy's robes shuddered in place then stilled as they solidified into a hard, rough shell. His arms snapped to his sides and started to melt together like a dripping candle. The only thing not affected was his head which was currently yelling expletives at Harry.

“Just because I left my robes off for the evening doesn't mean I'm not a wizard. How stupid are you feeling right now?” Harry grinned widely still holding his wand at the ready in case the two gaping Slytherins behind the currently rooted student decided to attack. Apparently not. They mumbled something about leftover homework and disappeared so fast Harry would have sworn they had apparated.

The roots had swirled around the angry boy's body and were now trying to attach themselves to the sconces on the wall and were crawling up the staircase.

“Don't worry. In about an hour you'll leaf out and in two, you'll have fall and everything will gradually scale off.” Harry paused and tightened his expression. “Don't mess with me again.”

The blond boy merely seethed in place as tiny buds started to pop out from the delicate branches that had erupted from his shoulders.

Harry knocked lightly on the outer shell of Rigel's `tree' with a snort, then passed quickly by him and bounded up the stairs and to the right into Gryffindor tower.

Funny about the rule on robe wearing…He couldn't see that working with the girls in his House for even an hour past classes…maybe this was a new rule in Slytherin House. You never know what bug will run up Snape's nose… Harry was grinning to himself. He couldn't wait to tell Hermione what he had done to the stupid Slytherin…

Hermione.

His gait hitched, and he slowed a little. We've just got to talk. There's nothing else to it. I will grovel and she'll hex me and somehow I'll get her to like me again. Yeah. That's a great plan.

He sighed and wondered how someone so thick-headed ever got into Gryffindor. A gaggle of black-robed firsties were climbing through the Portrait hole so he helped the smallest one in and pulled the frame back into place.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Hermione Granger standing on the couch with her hands on her head and a circle of Gryffindor students all pointing their wands at her.

“What the bloody hell…?!” Harry yelled as he pulled his wand out when he saw how frightened his girlfriend appeared.

Several students dropped their wands from Hermione and turned to defend against Harry.

“Who are you people? WHERE'S RON? WHAT'S GOING ON?!” Harry roared as he reached around the couch and pulled Hermione down beside him while keeping his wand at the ready.

Hermione was a little irritated since her wand had been confiscated by the three girls who looked so young and innocent. They saw her prefect badge and since one of them had a badge of her own, they decided she was a spy. They didn't know how she had gotten into the tower or what her objective was, but they knew they were going to find out.

Hermione of course tried to reason with them first. Bad move on her part. The only McGonagall they knew was a shy little first year named Minnie and no one had ever heard of any Hermione Granger. Since she wasn't expecting it, they disarmed her easily to Hermione's dismay. She was still seething about it when Harry burst into the scene.

In moments it appeared to be a standoff. Four boys were stiffly lying on the floor from a large `stupefy' from Harry leaving a small crowd of students against him watching him warily with their wands at ready. Harry wouldn't drop his guard and the crowd of sixth and seventh years seemed pretty determined to find a way to blow his head off. Harry's mind was reeling. What had happened? Where was Ron and Neville? Something was DEFINITELY wrong here and sadly the smartest witch in Hogwarts was just as befuddled as he was.

Voices were heard yelling behind the Portrait hole and it opened flooding in with at least fifteen Gryffindors that Harry had never seen before. A tall gangly seventh year wearing the Head Boy badge was shushing the younger students while trying to get a grasp of the situation as was being relayed loudly by at least four different people.

The young man calmly walked in the room and signaled for all the students to get out of the way. Harry stared at the boy and worriedly thought hard and quickly over all the defensive spells he had recently been studying for the D.A. He couldn't remember if the one that creates the ice wall was conglacio or congracio. Like an ice wall was going to really help here anyway. That head boy just crackled with magical power.

The dark haired young man calmly positioned himself between Harry's pointed wand and the other students.

“I understand there is some confusion here. This young lady says she is a member of Gryffindor House and has been for numerous years, yet none of us recognize her or her newly arrived protector.” He tilted his head in a simple acknowledgement of Harry before continuing.

“It seems we need to clarify this situation before we bring this before the Headmaster.” The young man twisted his lower lip and his face was a study in polite concentration.

“I think that is a brilliant idea. Let's get Headmaster Dumbledore in here and we can settle this instantly.” Hermione voiced with her arms crossed, a little at all ends without her wand in her hands.

The young man looked startled and the crowd behind him started to whisper amongst themselves. He pinched his brow together then shrugged in confusion.

“Well, we can start there, I suppose. You must have misunderstood what I said when I said Headmaster, I am merely Head Boy. Let me introduce myself. My name is Albus. Albus Dumbledore.”

Harry and Hermione stared at the boy and the niggling question that had been bothering them about him finally came clear. It WAS him. It was Headmaster Dumbledore. But he couldn't be more than eighteen!

They looked back at each other then slowly with their mouths dropped in amazement, they turned back to stare at the gangly young man.

“That's alright. It's a bit of an odd name. You can call me Buzzy. Everyone does.” He smiled widely and held out his hand.

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16. Hermione Giggles!

Author's notes: Thanks for all the reviews! I will probably reach 100 today if YOU will review…

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Very sad, I know.

Chapter 16

Hermione giggles!

Harry found himself staring up at `Buzzy' Dumbledore. He was staring up because he had stood up when the young man had entered then fallen on his backside in absolute shock. His wand drifted down and Harry couldn't help but shake his head in confusion.

“How can YOU be Dumbledore when you're only eighteen? You've lost your beard! What's Fawkes going to say?” Harry was rambling under his breath and he shoved his wand behind his ear very like Loony Lovegood.

Hermione of course seemed to take everything in stride. Her brows were crinkled in worry for Harry, but things like these were bound to happen in a Magical society. She'd figure it out and get things righted, that's what she did in life. She didn't want to think TOO hard on it at the moment, however, because it made her head hurt a little and she felt a slight bit queasy over it all anyway.

“You two look like you need a nice cup of tea.” Dumbledore smiled patiently and waved his wand to create a simple Tea table with bread and butter and a chipped but pleasant mixed setting with a steaming Teapot. Such a British resolution seemed to brace Harry and Hermione quite a bit. Apparently, it didn't matter WHEN you were, as long as some things never changed.

The two nodded wide-eyed, and found themselves sitting across from a man they knew but barely recognized. He had waved the rest of the House away with them grumbling under their breaths and then turned back to focus on the quiet couple. Harry didn't know what to do, so he shrugged and ate some buttered bread.

“Murrmph.” Harry acknowledged his thanks with the manners of most sixteen year old boys.

Hermione rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “Umm. Well, …Buzzy. Ahem. We are just a little confused here.”

Harry nearly choked up bread when he heard her call him `Buzzy'. Just the thought of addressing the elegant masterful wizard they knew as `Buzzy' seemed to make bread want to come out of his nose.

“Do you think you could be kind enough to give us your full name, `Buzzy'?” Hermione was staring daggers at Harry hoping he wouldn't interrupt everything by choking to death.

“My pleasure. I am Dumbledore, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, at your service.” Buzzy was busy putting seven cubes of sugar into his tea and smiled happily at the brown-haired girl.

Harry gulped in air and swallowed some shockingly hot tea in one swallow. Blowing from his mouth to cool his scalded tongue, he leaned forward and pulled a pack of frayed cards from his back pocket. On one card was the twinkling eye of the same wizard in front of him, but much older and greyer. And, well. Bearded.

“Great Merlin!” Dumbledore's eyes grew wide as he read the name listed on the card. The picture figure was pointing at his younger counterpart and rubbing his eyes in disbelief. Buzzy's mouth dropped as he recognized himself in the faded and older wizard.

“My word, I need a haircut!” Buzzy dropped the card and stared back at the two students in confusion.

“And who are you?” His calm demeanor was broken and he was slowly but surely shredding his bread into crumbs.

Hermione looked at Harry and winced. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a card as well. On it was a photo taken of Harry in one of his more distracted moments. It was a Chocolate Frog card listing Harry Potter as the `Boy-who-lived' and all his accomplishments including fighting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for the Sorcerer's Stone and even his Quidditch statistics. Harry of course had never seen this.

He was absolutely mortified.

“Where did you get this!??” Harry's voice got shrill and panicky.

Hermione wrenched it out of Harry's hand and politely handed it to their host.

“Ron didn't think you'd like to know about this, so we always checked before we gave you Chocolate Frogs. Haven't you noticed he eats other things now? Ron knew you'd go spare.”

Harry stared at his girlfriend in disbelief then buried his face in his arms on the table with a groan. “I am never going to live this down, am I.”

“Probably not.” She said with a shrug.

“I'm Hermione Granger. I'm a sixth year just like Harry, and we both attend here at Hogwarts. Just not now.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the Hogwarts ball that she had carried for so long and handed it to Dumbledore. Inside the ball had become misty and hard to make out any definite shapes.

“This used to look like a tiny Hogwarts inside. We had it in our hands and we must have said something to trigger a time spell. I wish Professor McGonagall was here to explain it. She's always been so good with these things.” She sighed quietly then continued to drink her tea.

Harry was marveling at how well Hermione was taking all of this. That was Hermione for you. He finally sat up and took a deep breath. He didn't know why they were there, but they might as well get used to the situation until they could find a spell to send them back. Or. Send them forward as the case may be.

Dumbledore was still staring at his own Chocolate Frog card front. He seemed captivated by the smiling wizard who looked a century or more older than he was right now. He started to turn the card over to see his own accomplishments, but Harry stopped him and gingerly took the card out of the questioning wizard's hand.

“It might be best to know only what you need to know at this stage. We don't know how such information could harm.”

“Or help.” Dumbledore stated while eyeing the card in Harry's hand.

“That's true, Harry. Maybe we're here to fix something that we've already fixed in the past! Maybe we must do something before we go back.” Her eyes brightened and he could tell she was wanting to go to the library to research the idea. His head was starting to hurt again.

Dumbledore's eyes looked concerned and he was biting his tongue as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should.

“May I see your wand, Harry?”

Harry shrugged and handed his wand over to the man he knew he trusted. Dumbledore tapped his wand against Harry's and whispered, “Virtuos” making both wands glow bright blue for a moment. Dumbledore paused a moment as if listening to his wand then he turned to the couple and smiled.

“Well, apparently you haven't done any particularly evil spells, though I should ask you about a student rooted in the lower stairs it seems. Your wand looks innocent of any wrongdoing, so I guess I'll have to trust you for now.”

Harry stared at the man for a moment then dropped his eyes. “Yeah. You do that. To tell you the truth, you don't have that great of a record of being all that trustworthy, either.” Harry hunched down in his chair and grimaced in frustration about the whole situation. He didn't need to be here! There were so many more important things to do than be mucking about in some stupid time spell. What if Voldemort attacked while they were gone? What if his friends go hurt because he wasn't there to help? He rubbed his arms with his hands to get rid of the overwhelming urge to throw something and break it just to feel better.

Hermione was staring at him strangely so, doing the only thing he could think of, he stood up and started to pace. He noticed the broom hangers in the corner filled with odd-sized brooms of various states of wear and the thought that his favorite broom hadn't even been made yet made him glower even more.

“He's a very touchy fellow, isn't he?” Dumbledore whispered brightly to Hermione over his half-full cup and saucer. Hermione couldn't help but giggle a little when she saw Harry give them both a dark look.

It was getting dark and the shadows were streaking across the walls in dark criss-cross patterns from the windows from the west. The Portrait hole had cracked open at least six times as different students checked in on the situation to make sure their head boy hadn't been cursed or murdered during tea. Dumbledore leaned back and stretched, his body making a popping noise as his neck apparently realigned. He apologized quickly citing a difficult class in Offence Training.

Harry turned to the young man with a startled glance, “Offence Training? Not Defence? We have Defence Against the Dark Arts but no training to attack. How much different is this time, anyway?”

Dumbledore's smile faded and a serious look made him look more like the old Headmaster than ever. He paused as if to say something, then shook himself and turned back with a polite smile to Hermione.

“I was delightful to have tea with such a lovely lady, Miss Granger.” He bowed over her hand had gave it a very smart salute. Hermione giggled again causing Harry to look back at her in disbelief. Hermione was not a giggler. She has been known to giggle once in a while, but twice in an hour? Harry frowned at the very dapper young man and then walked briskly back over to stand next to his girlfriend.

“Yeah. Thanks. Tea was great.” Harry growled.

Hermione hid her smirk as she recognized the jealous alpha male instinct Harry was starting to bluster with. She rolled her eyes and kicked the back of his shin to try to make him calm down.

“It seems we need to find accommodations for the evening for you both and I would suggest a new robe for Mr. Potter. It wouldn't do to be walking about without one. School rules, you know. Though how that would affect you I haven't the foggiest. It's not as if taking demerits from you causes Gryffindor to lose points, would it?” The Head boy turned to the ruby vase and stated, “Two points from Gryffindor for Harry Potter.”

Two small rubies vanished from the jar in a puff of smoke.

Harry grimaced. He lost the House points even a hundred years ago. Lovely.

“Well, that's good to know. Hogwarts considers you to be true Gryffindors then. If you hadn't been the rubies wouldn't have gone. Too bad to lose two points with the race so close, but couldn't be helped. Besides, you did attack the whole house, so I guess its fair turn about, eh?” Dumbledore stared philosophically at the half-filled jar and shrugged.

“Miss Granger, you are welcome to stay in my room if you'd like…” Harry interrupted with an angry, “Hey!”

“…and I will bunk with the seventh years with Mr. Potter upstairs in the dorm.” He carried on without pausing but gave Harry a smirking eye roll.

Harry harrumphed and took Hermione by the hand. “We've got to figure this out, `Mione! Who knows what could be happening while we are gone. What if there's an attack? People could be killed! I won't be there to…” Hermione stopped him with a hand pressed against his mouth.

“Harry. We are in the past. There is nothing we can do right now. We will figure it out. If something happens in the future when we aren't there the…headmaster,” she paused here and gave a strong widened eye look out the side of her face, “…will be strong enough to handle it.”

Harry grimaced then nodded his agreement. If there was anyone who could handle an attack it would be Dumbledore. He'd done it before and he could do it again. Harry rubbed his forehead wearily. It couldn't be later than six o'clock but he was positively exhausted. The good thing was Hermione seemed to have forgotten she was mad at him. He looked at her tired face and smiled tentatively and after a moment she smiled back. With a gentle tug he pulled her into a tight embrace.

“You could do much better than such a thick-headed moron, don't you?” He whispered into her hair.

“I like my men moronic, didn't you know?” she laughed gently as he squeezed her tightly to him.

“Mr. Potter! I have your robes right here.” Floated a voice from up the stairs.

Harry snorted and continued to hold Hermione with his face snuggled into her neck.

“Harry! I think you are a little jealous of Buzzy, aren't you?!” She giggled again to his consternation.

“Preposterous! The man is over a hundred years old! He has a beard down past his navel and he has a kooky little fetish with candy! Why would I be in the least bit jealous?” Harry pulled back and gave a prim and stiff-necked impression of Percy Weasley.

Dumbledore bounded down the steps and gave Hermione an elegant and sweeping bow then held out his arm to her to hold.

“I would be delighted to show you to your bedchamber, Miss Granger.” His eyes twinkled and Harry couldn't help but grind his teeth in irritation.

Hermione merely giggled.

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17. Gryffindors, its always the Gryffindors...

Chapter 17

Gryffindors, it's always the Gryffindors…

Ron rolled and whipped himself around the poles in a fantastic twist to end up in position facing an imaginary Chaser. He had practiced the move several times and he felt he was almost ready to use it in next weeks' game. They had Ravenclaw with their solid team to beat and he wasn't letting anything slip. Harry had always caught the snitch, but it was just as important not to let the other team over score and have Gryffindor lose the Cup because of sloppy playing. Every point counted.

He barrel-rolled into a spin then nearly knocked himself silly by almost garroting himself with the pole. He grimaced and rubbed his aching neck. That was going to bruise!

Ginny was about thirty feet below him yelling something about the D.A. starting in a few minutes. She was standing with her hands on her hips and it reminded him forcefully of his mother. She had gotten taller this summer, but she was still short compared to all her brothers. You couldn't mistake that red hair for anyone but a Weasley, however. He flipped a couple of more times then swooped around the field. He hoped it was worth his time. Another few hours of training could make all the difference. Ron sighed and drifted closer until he could see Ginny smile and wave him down.

“That was a great roll, Ron. There is no way Cho is going to get through you. I need to work on my speed catching. Maybe later next practice you'll throw for me?” Ginny grinned at the maniacal gleam that erupted in Ron's eye as he considered the best way to plan for their practice. Their current Gryffindor Team Captain was not as `fervent' as Ron thought she should be. He always considered Wood as the pattern of coach to copy ever since he had gone on to work on the Cannons Quidditch Coaching staff. Wood was only the junior speed trainer, but the former Gryffindor had achieved God-like status for by his association with Ron's favourite team. He had never spoken about it for fear of jinxing it, but he desperately hoped he would make Team Captain for his seventh year.

Ginny laughed and pushed Ron forward towards the Stadium showers. He was covered in sweat and they only had thirty minutes to make it to the Room of Requirement. It took almost the whole half hour, but they ended up right on time outside the tapestry and through the door.

The room was unsurprisingly full of Defensive tools and books on spell fighting. They had seen it all before and they barely took notice of the rare tomes of magic or the expensive Auror items. The group was slowly drifting in and several students dropped onto fluffy pillows on the floor to wait for their instructor, Harry. After a quite a few minutes passed a game of exploding snap started between Neville and Seamus while Ginny and Parvati took to charming their hair into braids. Luna merely sat with her wand behind her ear staring up at the ceiling and humming to herself. Then an hour passed. Harry didn't show. Ron was started to get worried. Hermione wasn't here either. Cho started to snigger to herself in the corner and then started whispering something to Luna loud enough that he could hear making his ears turn brilliantly red.

“Cho! I don't think they're off somewhere doing that!!” Neville looked shocked and dismayed and then felt humiliated and his face reddened when he found he spoke so loudly.

Ron grimaced. Hermione was going to hate this. Cho was the worst gossip in the school and she's always had it in for Hermione since she thought she was a boyfriend stealer. There was no truth to the rumor that Hermione did anything of the kind. It had been months since Harry had gone out with Cho, but Cho was never one to worry about the fine letter of truth.

He stood up and motioned everyone to listen. “Alright, something must have come up and I guess we'll have to reschedule for next time. Hermione will charm your galleon to tell you when the next meeting will be.”

Cho was still whispering to whoever would listen and Ron was starting to get a little annoyed. Ginny and Parvati unrolled their braids and were kicking the pillows up against the wall and out of the walkway when Ginny whirled around to Cho with the red-haired girl's face aflame.

“Cho! You shut it! Don't go saying such things! You know you and Roger have done much worse…and on the common room sofa, too! I heard you were caught by your whole fourth year Astronomy class last Friday night. So you can just keep your imaginings about Harry and Hermione to yourself!” Ginny threw her last pillow hard at the Ravenclaw who shrieked and was pulling out her wand before Neville put his hand forcefully on her shoulder. Cho's eyes narrowed in sullen anger and she shoved her wand away storming out of the room.

Ron sighed and rolled his eyes after she had left. Just what they needed. More stupid rumors about those two. Whatcha bet it ends up in the Daily Prophet before the day is out? Cho's that kind of vindictive.

Ron drifted off in a grumble. Harry better turn up with a good excuse.

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`Buzzy' led Hermione and Harry to see each of their sleeping quarters then they had been re-directed upon command to the Headmaster's Office. Hermione and Harry were a little nervous to meet a headmaster that wasn't the kind, gentle Dumbledore that they had grown used to. Who knew who he was? This new Headmaster might not take as easily to invasive students from the future. Or maybe he wouldn't believe that they were telling the truth after all. Harry gulped a little and Hermione slipped her hand into his with a gentle squeeze. Her eyes were wide however and she looked a little pale as well.

The door opened slowly and the three students entered the large dimly lit office to face the School's leader. Harry was startled that he actually recognized the man. It was Phineas Nigellus from the picture frame in Dumbledore's office. Harry winced a little remembering how rude he had been that night after the Department of Mysteries debacle. He let loose a small sigh of relief when he realized that had happened much later in the future and Headmaster Nigellus would have no memory of the incident.

The Headmaster was tall, dark and imposing. His beak nose rose high on his face lending his tightened eyes to remind one of an eagle or some other predatory bird. His robes were dark green with sigils of unknown magical meaning floating in silver around the hem and neck of the garment. Hair sharply back in a tight twisted tail, the powerful man looked impassive and dangerous.

Dumbledore walked up to the man and whispered something quietly over the desk that Harry and Hermione couldn't hear. When their discussion was over, Dumbledore left the room giving the couple a slight `it's alright' face before slipping out. The two squeezed each others hands then stepped up closer to the large dark mahogany desk.

Headmaster Nigellus said nothing and merely stared at the two students. Harry shifted his feet nervously but stood his ground and stared back with a raised eyebrow of his own. After a moment the man grunted and reached across the desk for his pipe and began smoking it in large puffs of smoke.

“And who, may I ask, are you spying for?” Nigellus asked quietly stroking his pipe while admiring the color of the wood as it glinted in the low firelight.

Hermione gasped out loud. “Why would you think we are spies? We merely set off a silly time spell and fell out here in this time. We really just want to get home. There is no reason to think we have any other agenda.”

Harry groaned inside. You don't just spill everything to a Slytherin such as Headmaster Nigellus. You have to give them some reason to want you around or you're nothing more than a niffler without a nose. If only Harry could remember anything from the past that could help. Harry stepped a little in front of Hermione then spoke up.

“Sir, I realize this situation may seem a little odd, but I understand you have tools to determine truth. We are perfectly willing to submit to whatever means you consider necessary. And who knows, maybe some of our information may be useful to you after you deem us trustworthy. I can imagine the certainty of the future would help you in many ways.” Harry stood with his feet apart and ready to shove Hermione out of the way of any blasts of magic the man might throw their way.

The Headmaster tilted his head then slowly smiled. “And you're a Gryffindor. How very interesting. I would have expected such an offer from one of the Slytherin students. Most Gryffindors would have merely played the suffering hero. What an odd situation this is.” He tapped out his pipe and magically whished the ashes away with a flick of his fingers.

Hermione tugged at the back of Harry's shirt and hissed into his ear, “We can't tell him anything from the future! What if something important is changed? What if…”

Harry shushed her by squeezing her hand again and she fell silent. He rethreaded his fingers through hers and softly rubbed her thumb. She leaned against his shoulder and he pulled her closer to his side. He had no idea how this was going to turn out, but just having Hermione close made everything a little bit better.

Nigellus frowned at their display of affection then steepled his fingers together in reflection.

“Of course, I have instruments that can tell if a student is lying. I am the headmaster. There would never be a truth told in this office if I didn't. I don't know how many students have tried to spin falsehoods here, but they all paid the punishment. If you had lied I would have known instantly. I have shrouded this room with truth detectors from the moment I took this office. The rest of the afternoon would have you making the acquaintance of Filch, who always loves to dole out the detentions. He is particularly fond of the dungeon whip room. He does love those whips.”

Harry gulped. Filch from his own time was no contest apparently to his grandfather. The groundskeeper from the future could still give Harry the creeps, and he never really did anything much besides bark a little and give a sullen detention. Apparently even so, times had definitely changed for the better in the future.

The Headmaster stood up and walked around the desk to face the students. He wasn't much taller than Harry, but his imposing presence and crackle of magic made him extremely intimidating. Harry took a step back and Hermione shuffled back with him.

“You really shouldn't offer Time advice to just anyone, Mr. Potter. Such information could be used to make or break whole generations. The power to change the future is beyond measure.” Nigellus had a bright gleam in his eye that was starting to worry Harry.

“We won't talk of it now. It isn't the time.” The man chuckled softly to himself at the little play on words. He paused then turned back to his large throne-like chair.

I will allow you to be in Gryffindor, but I cannot allow you to mix so freely with the school population. You might let something important slip. I restrict you to classes and to eat in your dormitory. Since the Houses are taught separately that is not a large problem. You will not see much of each other as the sexes are separated as well. What subjects had you been studying?”

Harry and Hermione were surprised by the separation of students, but it was over one hundred and fifty years ago. Some things had to be different.

Well, Sir. Harry and I are both taking Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts…” The Headmaster interrupted her abruptly.

“Miss Granger, I was speaking to Mr. Potter. We will discuss your schooling in a moment.” He dismissed Hermione with a wave.

“Um. Yes, Sir.” Harry grimaced and looked back at a quickly reddening Hermione. “Sorry, `Mione. It is over a century ago.” Harry whispered to her as he gripped her hand tightly feeling her nails biting into his palm.

Well, Sir, we are both in Potions, Transfiguration and Defense against the Dark Arts. I take Divination, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures and play seeker on the House Team. Hermione takes Arithmancy, Muggle Studies and Ancient Runes as well.”

The man rifled through his desk and pulled out some parchment than wrote something quickly down. “Mr. Potter, since you are both staying her for an indeterminate time I am forced to place you in classes. You are now to take Divination, Transfiguration, Potions, Astronomy, Battle Magics and Design. Miss Granger, you may proceed with Potions, Transfiguration, Healing, Etiquette, Family Magics and Divination. Your schedules are on these parchments. I will have you both meet with the Historian to discuss your research into your travel back to your own time. I find these upsets from silly children playing with magics they do not understand to be trying and tiresome. You would think your Headmaster from your own era would have such things more under control.”

With a wave of the man's hand, the door to the office slammed open against the interior wall and he proceeded to ignore the two teens completely. With nothing else to do, they exited together and slowly walked back to the tower.

“Family Magics and Etiquette? What in Merlin's name are they? Harry looked at Hermione questioningly.

“Oh, you know, cleaning spells and the like. I am so glad we don't have to take them in our time. I am a little tiffed I can't take Battle Magics and Design with you. They sound very interesting.” She paused and looked around to make sure no one was listening.

“I could have throttled him when he cut me off. He is going to regret putting me in with all those girls. Our forewitches didn't experience the Witch's Revolution for nothing…” Her eyes were gleaming with the thrill of shattering a few misconceptions before Harry turned her around to face him.

“Mione? Are you sure you should do that? What about the repercussions? You said we shouldn't mess with time and everything.”

She straightened her shoulders and shook out her hair. “There are some things that should be changed. The harassment of these witches forced to take Etiquette!” She laughed lightly. “I'll try to control myself, Harry. I know what you're thinking. I'll be a good little witch.”

Harry internally rolled his eyes. Yeah. Control herself like she did by knitting little hats for all the house-elves last year.

She smirked at his expression then kissed him lightly on the nose. He grinned back at her then with a quick look around, he pulled her into a darkened portico and softly kissed her lips. A quiet, “Ohh!” was all she said before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He had pulled his fingers lightly through her brown curls noticing how soft it was. She tasted like lemon drops and strawberry lip gloss. It had only been hours since they had fought, but it seemed like days. He leaned back against the cold stone wall and pulled her closer in as he nuzzled her neck making her sigh happily.

“Did I say I was sorry for hurting your feelings earlier? Because I really was an idiot. I never want to hurt you like that again.” He kissed her right under her left ear feeling her pulse quicken in pleasure.

“Thank you, Harry.” She whispered into his neck. When she kissed his ear he nearly jumped. She continued kissing down until she found the same spot on his neck that he had found on hers. They were breathing so hard and their hearts were racing so fast that they almost didn't notice the Ravenclaw Prefect walk up behind them and tap his feet to get their attention. They broke apart instantly throwing themselves to the opposite sides of the hallway.

“Gryffindors. It's always the Gryffindors.” The Ravenclaw shook his head then covered his eyes and pointed up the stairs as if to say, `I saw nothing just get out of here.”

Harry grinned at Hermione then grabbed her hand as they raced up the stairs to the Tower. Dumbledore was waiting outside the Portrait Hole holding it open for a couple of rumpled red-faced seventh years. The Head Boy merely raised one eyebrow at Harry and Hermione before rolling his eyes and waving them inside.

1

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18. Witches Unite!

Thank you for all the reviews! We broke a hundred! I am so thrilled!

Disclaimer: I must admit the world of Harry Potter is not my own creation. I'm just here on vacation.

Chapter 18

Witches Unite!

Over the weekend, Harry and Hermione met with the Historian, Mr. Hogswiddle who was very similar in temperament to their own librarian, Madame Pince. He seemed rather put out to step away from his own personal research to deal with students so they got his permission to research and hurriedly moved out of his way. Harry groaned at Hermione as she pulled book after enormous book from the shelves and piled them towering high in his arms. It was a wonderful clear day outside and after all the drama of the past few days, he was itching to hit the Pitch and fly. If Ron had been here the two of them would have ganged up on poor Hermione until she would have shoo'd them out just to get them out of her hair. Not a chance now, thought Harry.

She looked up at Harry with a soft smile then pulled open a book and started to read. His stomach would lurch and he would almost stop breathing when she looked at him that way. Her smile made him grin widely in response then he settled back into the chair to pretend he was reading all the while just sitting there and admiring her. He didn't get too many opportunities to watch her, and when he could get her to smile at him like that, he felt like a million galleons.

After three hours of Hermione working hard taking notes and Harry daydreaming, she broke up the study session and stretched. Hermione reached over and turned Harry's crumpled parchments so she could read what notes he had taken. He had barely covered the page with scribbles of questions with no answers. He had written, “Time…hole? Rift? …followed by a funny charmed sketch of Harry on his broom playing Quidditch where he kept falling off. She turned the page and laughed at his drawing of Ron and a spelled spider that kept falling on Ron's head and making the stick-figure Ron fall to pieces. She started to shake her head at him until the third page turned to reveal a very sweet drawing of Hermione herself studying. As a curl would fall over her cheek, she'd push it behind her ear, and wrinkle up her nose in concentration. It was surprisingly well done and she couldn't help but kiss his cheek making him blush.

“Come on, beautiful. Are you ready for some lunch? We have to go to the Tower to eat, and I'm starving.” Harry tried to hide his reddened cheeks as he pulled her away from the table into a kiss. Harry didn't want everyone to know he was a hopeless romantic. He was just lucky Ron hadn't seen it. Well, couldn't see it because he hadn't even been born yet. Harry thought. Hermione smiled sweetly and leaned in for a soft kiss.

“Students will not fraternize in such a manner! Twenty points from Gryffindor for such ill-mannered behavior!” The historian was beside himself in red-faced anger. Harry and Hermione broke apart aghast at his loud reprimand and quickly fled the room.

“Some things never change, do they`Mione?” Harry snorted as they crossed the doorway into the Common Room.

“I guess they are a lot stricter with students these days. I suppose you'll just have to keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Potter.” She giggled as she broke free from his grip and twirled away playfully.

“We can lose all the points they've got! I don't care if they lose the next five House Cups! We're not even born for over a century!” He leered at her menacingly then pounced over the couch to grab her in a giggling hug.

“Yes, Mr. Potter, but there are those of us who would turn you into a gibbering flower pot if you contrived to cost us this years' House Cup.” Dumbledore had come in through the door quietly and was standing by the couch pretending not to notice them giggling on the floor.

“Urm. Sorry.” Harry said muffled by Hermione's hair in his face.

“May I help you arise, Miss Granger?” Dumbledore held out his hand and pretended not to notice the other boy on the floor.

“You wouldn't turn me into a flower pot, would you, Buzzy?” Hermione smiled up at the young man through her lashes while giving him a sweet pout. Dumbledore turned a little pink in the face.

“Of course not, Miss Granger. How could you even think such a thing?” The Head boy blinked and smiled down at the girl who had reached up to take his hand. Harry snorted and pushed himself up from the floor on his own. He and Dumbledore were pretty equal in size and Harry stood back and frowned as he saw Hermione's hand in the other boy's. Who knew Hermione could flirt like that?

Dumbledore pulled Hermione's arm through his as he led her to the side chamber where their meal was already set. Harry harrumphed as he sat down and frowned again as he saw `Buzzy' pull out the chair and laid her napkin across her lap. Harry grabbed his own plate and started to fill it to overflowing.

Dumbledore leaned back in the chair after finishing a meal to rival Ron Weasley and leaned forward onto the table.

“Miss Granger, Hermione if I may, I'd love to have you tell me a little about, well…myself, if you would. The thought that you know me so well in the future has truly pushed all else from my mind. Can you give me just a few ideas of what kind of an old codger I have become?”

Harry grinned at the twinkle in Dumbledore's eye and couldn't help but think about how much this young man will lead the destiny of so many in the future. For Harry, Dumbledore had become more like family. An almost grandfather, if you will. To see such an esteemed figure lean his left elbow into a small boat of gravy made Harry feel just a little off-kilter.

Hermione paused thoughtfully, “Well, I can tell you that you are a powerful wizard, which of course you already know. I can say you have an idiotic sense of humor and an unusual requirement for sugar which is currently apparent by your eating three enormous helpings of pudding. I really don't know a huge amount about you personally, like if you married or have kids or anything, but I can tell you that you are kind, generous, and good. And you always lead against Evil and help those less fortunate than yourself.” Hermione remembered his kindnesses to the house-elves and all the great things he had done for students muggle-born or not in the past.

“Thank you. That's a lot to live up to.” Dumbledore leaned back quietly and studied Harry who was seated across the table.

“You however, have something against me, from what I can tell. Did I hurt you or cause you harm in some way in the future?” The older boy questioned seriously.

Harry didn't know what to say. Dumbledore was both father figure and confidant who in the end had failed somewhat with both. By keeping him at the Dursleys he broke Harry's faith and trust; and by keeping secrets Harry had learned to keep some of his own.

Harry looked at the young man very seriously. After a moments hesitation he looked him full in the eye and smiled slightly. “You have done nothing wrong other than possibly letting me get away with a few things. You have become someone I turn to in times of need. You are what the history books call a good man and a good wizard.”

Dumbledore seemed humbled by his words and he stood up quickly to hide suspicious wetness around his eyes.

“You both need to get out of here today. It's beautiful outside.” He spoke gruffly and left the room after bowing before Hermione.

“That truly is the measure of a man. To have lived for over a century and to be considered good. I wonder what will be said of us, Harry?” She smiled at her boyfriend who was quietly smiling to himself.

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Monday after their first double class, Hermione in Etiquette and Harry in Design; they found themselves together both trudging up the stairs to have lunch in the tower. Harry looked overwhelmed with books stacked six deep in his arms while Hermione mumbled under her breath about, `can't you stand straighter, Miss Granger, and surely you can spell the table set Miss Granger…'

Harry grinned to finally see Hermione upset about a class. The last time she thought a class was bollocks she told off the Divination Professor and had stormed out. He didn't think that would work this day and age. Knowing what he knew now about Filch's family tree, he wouldn't suggest anything that required `detention' in this time.

“It's weird how much everything seems the same. You'd think after one hundred and fifty some-odd years more things would have evolved. Apparently `Design' class is your old style Arithmancy, Hermione. It's all about layering spells and creating new ones. The only cool thing I can think of about this class is maybe I already know a spell that they haven't thought of yet. Other than that, I'm getting eaten alive. How do you understand this rubbish?” Harry was panting as he carried the very heavy oversized books while shifting from one side to the other to give one arm a rest at a time. They were finally inside the tower and Harry dropped the books right on the floor rather than carry them one step further.

“I thought as much. The maths alone can eat a witch for breakfast. You're going to need my help with that one.” Hermione sighed.

“And how was your class?” Harry hunched over and waited for his girlfriend to blow with the frustration she was feeling.

“Actually, I think it will be quite useful. I'm just not as…well…studied on the subject.” The girl had that gleam in her eye like when she'd been told there was an extra long essay to do.

“Barmy. That's what you are.” Harry grinned at her and hugged her from behind. “I'm glad you'll finally know how to curtsey to the Queen if she ever shows up. Hey, it's not the Queen right now is it? It's the King, King Something.”

“Did you even go to school before you came to Hogwarts? I don't know how you learned to write your name before I came along. This is 1858 and it is the time of Queen Victoria as King Edward VII won't be crowned until 1901.” Hermione had acquired her teaching airs and Harry was smirking as he listened.

“Fine, Queen Victoria. I bet you don't know who is Head Wizengamot now, do you?” Harry loved to wind Hermione up.

“Actually, Harry it would be Head Warlock, but since you don't know either I don't think you should push it. So, shove off!” She grinned back at him and play pushed him off the couch.

They ate lunch and then found they had Potions at the same time; however they could not sit together. They were in the same room just separated into girls and boys and by a wide pathway with desks on each side. The Professor was a wizened old man who looked as if all the moisture had been sucked from his body leaving him withered and wrinkled. The fluttering old man mumbled to himself as he billowed into the room with his dark blue robes flapping out behind him. He reminded Harry of an ancient black crow.

The class proceeded rather easily and Harry was surprised to find himself with a perfect potion by the end of class. Without Snape breathing down his neck, Harry could concentrate and actually enjoy the potion making. Hermione gave him a big smile from across the room as she returned her cauldron to its place on the wall. Class had been quick and painless much to Harry's delight.

They had Astronomy in the evening so they were free for the rest of the late afternoon. The couple walked slowly out to the lake enjoying the chill wind and leaves blowing up and over the lake. Apparently the squid was no where to be found and several students were foot bathing even though the water had to be absolutely freezing. They wandered for a while pointing out known places that were still the same without saying a word. They held hands and Harry kept stealing admiring glances at Hermione whose face was chilled with bright apple cheeks and curls floating about her face.

Several shouts erupted from over the hill. Suddenly the ground shook and a great billow of smoke and debris could be seen floating above Hogsmede Village. Hermione and Harry's wands were both poised and ready in seconds. The front of the school exploded with students and teachers running outside or half hanging from windows to see what had happened. Harry's stomach dropped when he saw the Dark Mark shoot high into the air with an enormous blast. The floating signal drifted and started to fade like dripping blood, mixing sinisterly with the smoke and ash.

Harry watched as older students and teachers disappeared when they apparated over to the site of the terrible noise and destruction. Harry and Hermione hadn't yet taken their tests, but they had studied the spell and felt confident they wouldn't get splinched, so with a nod to each other they disappeared, reappearing instantly in High Street just before the bookshop that had been there for centuries.

The smoke and ash was stifling giving them little ability to see clearly into the thickness. Shouting and the sounds of blasting spells could be made out just ahead of where they were. It was a battle zone and Harry felt his body react to the situation and his focus narrowed. His body clenched and he scanned as much of the area as quickly as he could. Harry grabbed his girlfriend's hand and led her through the dirty haze to crouch down together behind a display of discount magic books. Several books on Witch Cooking had fallen from the makeshift trolley and were shouting out ideas for lunch recipes so loudly that Hermione had to shove them closed so they could hear what was going on.

They could see Dumbledore fighting furiously shooting spells with both his wand and his raised hand at different attackers. Hermione squeezed Harry's hand in hers and they both jumped out at the same time yelling `Expelliarmus” at the two menacing figures attacking the young man. The attackers fell back as the spell blew their wands out of their hands and were thrown extremely hard against the outside wall of the side of a building. Standing back to back next to Dumbledore, the three continued to shoot spells blasting and disarming the invaders. Fire was spitting out the windows of the bookstore as thousands of spellbooks erupted into flame. A hex caught Harry across the shoulder knocking him hard against Hermione and whipping him around and flipped down to the ground. Hermione crouched over him to help him up all the while sending sparks and blasts from her wand. Headmaster Nigellus had come across them and was creating a powerful protection spell that surrounded the three and several students who had come up to crouch behind him.

Apparently the ones who had attacked had accomplished their goal of arson and the popping sound of black robed figures disapparating filled the roadway. The dust started to settle and the Headmaster set several students to magically stop the burning of the bookstore. When it was determined that the spells weren't working, a chain of water buckets were set up to at least wet down the buildings on either side of the store. It kept the fire from spreading, but the owner, a slender brown-haired middle-aged witch sobbed openly in the Headmaster's arms. He awkwardly patted the woman on the shoulder and quickly handed her over to a group of shopkeepers who seemed to know her.

The bookstore was standing as it was made from local quarried stone, but the interior had quickly simmered into shards of melted glass and ash. There was nothing left to do but scourgify the insides and eventually rebuild and restock. Harry could hear several people whispering about the owner's family as being part muggle. He sighed softly to himself as he dropped down on the edge of the pavement to catch his breath. Apparently it didn't matter what time he was in, hate seemed to be something he'd always have to fight.

The three students were covered in soot and sweat and still breathing heavily. Dumbledore hadn't even taken stock of who had fought with him and his eyes widened when he saw Hermione next to Harry.

“Miss Granger! I can't believe Mr. Potter allowed you to be put into such extreme danger! You might have been hurt!” Buzzy looked scandalized to see the young witch.

Harry snorted. There would have been no way he could have kept Hermione from doing anything she felt she needed to do. He had learned that early on. She was just as capable if not more so in some situations and he had come to rely on her skills and fast thinking. He could also see her eyes narrow at `Buzzy' and he knew the young man was in for a scathing lecture.

“Albus Dumbledore. I am as competent as any wizard in this school. There is no reason I should be forced to sit and wring my hands when I am able to fight like any other student. While I realize you are a product of your generation, I will have you know I am a product of mine. I will not tolerate being thought less than or unequal to any wizard around and if you persist in this archaic thinking you will soon find yourself shunned by every witch in this school. I have been discussing the idea of Witch's Rights with the other girls and almost every one is willing to prove themselves and take a stand against those who try to hurt us and those we love. So, either start realizing we as witches are just as able or be prepared for the consequences.”

Dumbledore stood there taking the diatribe with his usual polite interest and aplomb. When she finished, he smiled lightly at her, wiped his sooty hand on his pants then offered his arm to lead her back to the school. Harry was watching the obvious battle of wills with a smirk on his face. The lads of 1858 won't know what coming. Harry thought to himself.

Hermione stared at Dumbledore then crossed her arms in front of her then promptly disappeared. Dumbledore seemed to be surprised and looked questioningly at Harry.

“Yeah, isn't she brilliant?” Harry had an enormous grin on his face that made Dumbledore roll his eyes and snort.

“She's going to cause a riot at this school, you know. I don't know how different your generation may be but things are done a certain way now and…” Harry cut him off with an arm around the other boy's shoulders.

“Its going to take you a while, mate, but you will get used to the idea. You might as well start now because you have to realize that witches ultimately control every wizard anyway. It's a fact of life. Now that Hermione has shown all the other girls what they were missing, your little world is going to start to change. I suggest you let them do what they want because sooner or later, you'll be hexed into oblivion if you don't. Believe me, I know.” Harry grinned widely at Dumbledore's consternation and laughed when the man threw up his hands and shrugged.

They apparated back to the school to find students subdued and silent. At least six seventh year students had been viciously hurt with one student in extremely critical condition. The Head boy nodded at Harry then ran to the infirmary to check on his classmates.

It all seemed so familiar to Harry. The attack was so reminiscent of the Death Eaters fight in Hogsmede just a few months earlier. He knew that Voldemort wasn't even around yet, but the feeling of dread he had been lately living unconsciously without suddenly flooded back leaving his heart in his throat. What had happened? Who was attacking now? Harry shoved his hands hard into his pockets and stormed up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione had joined the girls in the infirmary and was helping in any way that she could. The other witches were much better versed in healing spells so she held back and merely handed them what they needed to try to heal the hurting students. The witches were brilliant as they took orders from the Head Doctor and hurriedly put every wounded student into beds and started stasis spells until the Doctor could determine treatment. Several older girls were healing wounds and canceling very difficult hexes to Hermione's great admiration. Dumbledore tumbled into the dungeon infirmary out of breath and scanning for friends and classmates in danger. Hermione came to stand beside him.

“I think everyone is out of the woods except for the seventh year boy Alvis Elledge. He is still dangerously wounded. I don't know what they can do to help him at this point. The Doctor has him in stasis until he can find a way to remove all the curses without causing more harm. Some things even a wizard can't heal.” She had tears in her eyes and she looked very pale. Dumbledore merely nodded that he heard her then turned away to leave the way he had come.

It was hours later when Hermione slowly reached the Common Room to find Harry and Dumbledore at separate sides of the couch both staring off into space. They were both filthy with soot and sweat. She leaned tiredly over the couch and put her hand on the back of each of their shoulders.

“Go get cleaned up. There's nothing else to be done.” Both boys looked up at her blankly then robotically stood up and went to their rooms. She had used a cleaning spell to rid herself of dirt so no one's open wounds in the infirmary would be made dirty from her, but her clothes still felt scratchy and no matter how clean the spell made her, she felt she was still disgustingly covered in filth. She leaned against the couch, then went around and took the corner where Harry had been seated just moments before. She was tired. More than just physically, she was mentally tired of dealing with such Evil that would attack and kill children.

The strain was too much. Her head lowered and tears started to fall silently through her hands and into her lap as her body clenched and her legs drew up. Arms suddenly grasped her and pulled her into a soft hug. Harry had come back to check on her and seeing her dismay, his heart couldn't stand to see her hurting so much. He drew her into his lap and rocked her like a small child. They both comforted each other until Hermione pulled back and hiccupped, surprising herself.

Harry laughed softly then pushed back a stray curl that kept falling into her eyes. They had entwined their fingers together with one hand and wrapped the other arm tightly around each other. She was small and soft and fit perfectly under Harry's chin. They sat there rocking until slowly the common room started to fill back up with loud students and the common noises of children. Then Harry put her feet on the ground,

and led her to her room kissing her softly on the nose.

“Sorry, I've made you all sooty again. I should have cleaned up before touching you in all my dirt.” Harry brushed at her nose to rub off a dark smudge.

She smiled sweetly at him. “It's that you came back and held me that's important. A little bit of dirt is fine.”

“I'll go now.” He whispered still not moving.

“I should clean up as well.” She whispered back not taking her eyes off of his.

“Well, you're dirtying up the hallway, the both of you, so get a move on.” Dumbledore had come down from his shower and was standing there behind them with no shoes and his hair still wet.

They both turned and smiled at him and then Hermione slipped through the door leaving a bemused Harry and a smirking Dumbledore.

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19. Decisions

Thank you for waiting for this chapter. I know it took me forever to post, but I have gotten to a point in the story that plot devices must be placed just so, and I have written ahead to make sure everything is in its place. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter, how sad.

Chapter 19

Decisions

Harry found Dumbledore sprawled half across one of the study tables in the Common Room executing a rather loud and impressive whiffling snore. He had stacks of Battle spells and Hex books scattered in haphazard towering piles that looked like they could fall over with just a soft breeze. His dark hair was mussed and the shadowy bruises under his eyes lent the Head boy a sense of childish frailty. It startled Harry to see the vulnerability of the young man so evidently exposed. He didn't look at all like the powerful master wizard of his memory. Harry's approach must have jostled the sleeping wizard making the snoring young man wake suddenly with his fist grasping his wand in his befuddlement.

“Whoa! It's me! No need to hex me to death!” Harry cried pulling away from the startled sleeper.

Harry cautiously pushed the pointed wand's tip away from his body with his finger and sighed with relief when Dumbledore merely closed his eyes again and put his head back on the table with a moan. Wearily he stuffed his wand down his back pocket and faintly waved Harry away with his hand.

“Goway.” He murffled.

Harry grinned then purposely noisily pulled out a heavy chair just across from him. Shuffling and knocking a few books to the floor to get them out of the way he grabbed the notepad on which the other boy had written copious scrawlings the night before. Words like, `extreme freezing,' and `I liked that rooting thing of Harry's', and `protection spells?!!!” were all scribbled with notes of specific curses scratched out and rewritten around them. Harry snorted when he saw several rude drawings underneath the parchments. Apparently Dumbledore was a lot like Harry in more ways than the boy had ever realized.

“So. Are you ever going to tell me what that attack was all about? Who would attack that village and try to hurt so many people?” Harry was so frustrated. When he saw the Dark Mark he was sure Voldemort had somehow tracked him down. He had experienced a moment of freezing fear until he had forced himself into action. Very subtly he had asked a few students and no one had ever heard of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Dumbledore winced in weary irritation then finally sat up with bleary eyes notably reddened by loss of sleep. He ran his hand through his hair and with just a few pats he looked perfectly presentable. Whatever empathy Harry had been harboring for the other student promptly vanished in his envy of instantly arranged hair. He couldn't help but rub a little at the messy mop on his own head self-consciously before snorting and shoving his hands into his pockets. Dumbledore pretended not to notice and leaned back comfortably in his chair.

“Grindlewald. That's the name of the moment. We've heard whispers and rumors of the dark wizard and his need to push his agenda of Wizard Domination. No one knows who he is but his message has been made perfectly clear. He wants Wizards as a ruling entity with him as the head of the class. He thinks Muggles and even Squibs are merely in the way and he not only wants to remove them from the immediate Wizarding area, he believes they should become our slaves! His thoughts on half-Muggles don't appear very imaginative either. He considers them an abomination and preaches their removal from the Wizarding World completely. The madman professes the desire for world control by Wizardkind! Can you believe it?”

“What is the Ministry doing about these attacks?” Harry asked quietly.

“Not much. It seems they miss the mark and arrive only in time to mop up the mess. Like the poor witch who lost the bookstore. It was destroyed because she was half-Muggle. She had finally succeeded in getting most of the shopkeepers in Hogsmede to accept her and this happens. I know her pretty well since her daughter was a graduate last year. I actually spent a lot of time in that little bookstore holding her daughter's books.” He smiled slightly in remembrance.

“I wonder if they will stay or if Grindlewald will win by forcing them to leave.” Dumbledore said in a monotone.

Harry sat back in a slump with so many terrible images of the recent and future Hogsmede attacks running though his head.

“Well, the bookstore is still there in my year, I don't know if the same family runs it but at least you know some of the things don't change.” Harry shrugged.

Dumbledore sighed heavily rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand. So many people had been hurt and even killed in the last year. He felt that somehow, someway he was missing something very important that would be vital to bringing this dark wizard from succeeding at his goal. He stretched his shoulders pulling one arm back then the other to pull the kinks from his body from sleeping in such an odd position.

“Harry, I know this is terribly disturbing news. I am sure in the future you never have to deal with such megalomaniacs as this nightmare wizard, but sometimes these things happen. It is hard to comprehend that such Evil could really exist.”

Harry's mouth dropped open and he shook his head in disbelief. “Never have to deal with…?”

Harry sat there with so many things he wanted to say. But he couldn't. If only he could tell Dumbledore what he was going to have to deal with in the future. Just give the man a hint of the terrors the Death Eaters wrought or even to tell him to take special care of James and Lily Potter. The instant he thought of his parents his throat thickened and he closed his eyes to help him hold back the flood of questions and information he wanted to shout out loud.

Hermione had walked into the conversation and merely stood there with one eyebrow raised. “You've got to be kidding! You wouldn't believe all the terrible things that have happened! To Harry's parents! I know of complete families killed by Volde…Murrphhh.” Harry had jumped up and capped her mouth with his hand. She looked indignant at first, then the realization of what she had almost told widened her eyes and she nodded at Harry in agreement.

“I'm afraid we can't really discuss that.” Harry noted the look of intense concentration on the face of Dumbledore and Harry promptly shuttered his thoughts and could feel Dumbledore's surprise at the refusal to his mind.

“That wasn't very nice.” Harry's eyes narrowed as Dumbledore frowned and snorted.

“Well, you can't blame me for trying. So you know Occulomency? That's something my father taught me, they don't teach it here. Too bad. I might have found out a few interesting things and you'd be none the wiser. Pity.”

“How very Slytherin of you.” Harry hissed causing the Head Boy to narrow his eyes then look away, grinding his teeth to keep himself from saying something further in front of Hermione.

Hermione gasped indignantly and was going to say something else when Harry pulled her back and started toward the door.

“We'll see you later. We have a few things to discuss.” Hermione huffed then turned and followed her boyfriend out the door. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it as they walked down the dark hallway that led to the stairs.

“When did you get so smart? I could have told him everything and really did something damaging. I heard him talking about Grindlewald. You know I know everything about that. It's all in Hogwarts, A History. He doesn't know who Grindlewald is! Maybe this is why we are here! Should we tell him or not?” She said all this in one breath turning to Harry expectantly.

“Whoa! What do you mean you know who Grindlewald is?” Harry stopped quickly at stared at Hermione with his mouth open in surprise.

“Harry, don't you remember the Sorting Hat? In his song this year it was about what is happening right now. It can't be a mistake or just a fluke of fate! We are here to save Wizardkind! If Grindlewald is allowed to continue, who knows what our future may be! We might not ever meet…Or since I am Muggle-born, I could be a slave like the house-elves...It's got to stop!” She shuddered and unconsciously inched a little tighter into Harry's embrace.

Harry pulled her in closer with his chin resting on top of her head. They didn't say a word, but merely stared out the enchanted window that allowed them to see the softly falling snow but not feel the bitter coldness of an open casement. His brow furrowed as he grimly considered what she was saying. It makes sense. He thought. Maybe Hermione was actually led to pick up that blasted Hogwarts ball after all, just to send us both back here to correct this situation. He paused and looked down at her worried face.

“If I had to choose to tell something about the future I would tell about this. To lose at this point would cause everything we know to disappear. I think you're right, `Mione. This is what we are here for. And if it isn't right, then no one else will know anyway, so why not! But do we tell Dumbledore or Nigellus?” He grinned widely to win a small smile for her face. He pulled her back into a small pillared balcony and sat down on an old stone seat built for two.

Hermione smiled and scooted in snuggling under his arm and raising his hand to drape around her shoulders. With her head fitting right under his chin she sighed and relaxed her body into his. Their fingers met and intertwined as he rubbed his thumb across hers. With her warmth and closeness he could finally feel his body's tenseness and anxiety start to die away.

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The next day bloomed bright and cheerful. The snow glittered and bounced the sunlight everywhere like scattered diamonds. The leaves had abandoned the trees ages ago, and the thin fingers of the limbs brushed the sky in a grey brown wave. Harry had bundled himself up with an enormous muffler while wearing a mismatched knitted hat that Hermione had made for him. He personally found it eye-searingly ugly, but the delighted squeal she gave when he plonked it on his head sunk him and he knew he'd be wearing ugly hats for a long time. They were taking a walk around the grounds and found themselves staring at Hagrid's cabin. It was much newer and was being used as a sort of barn to house several kinds of fowl. The sight of their friend's hut sent both of them a pang of homesickness. He softly held her hand in his and sighed quietly to himself.

Hermione had written up a list of what was acceptable to tell the Head boy about Grindlewald. It was sadly very short. Harry had argued to tell him about the future threat of Voldemort citing the many lives that would be saved, but Hermione had stood her ground and finally convinced him that telling the essentials was the only way. It was a half-hearted argument anyway. Harry knew it was the right thing to do, but in his heart he could still imagine a fantasy of his own where his family survived and he lived in a home full of love and happiness. Harry smiled grimly and with resolution. He had people that were counting on him. Even the people that he didn't even know were expecting the Boy-Who-Lived to save them from the menace of the Dark Lord. He had decided that for once he was going to go into this with his eyes wide open. The weeks of good sleep uninterrupted by the nightmares and visions sent by Voldemort had strengthened him greatly. He was now able to step away from the muddled thoughts and desperate feeling of fear and exhaustion and look to the fight with a clearer mind. Hermione was a great help, also. He felt strong with her. Not just that, but he really felt optimistic for once. It was thrilling to actually live in a mindset that for once included hope! For so long the Prophecy hung over his head like the Sword of Damocles. No longer.

They approached the little wooden and stone house/barn and leaned up against it. It was pretty cold, and they huddled against each other to block the wind. This is where they had arranged to meet with Dumbledore. In hindsight, the common room fire seemed a much more intelligent option, but they were already here and they could see the Head boy coming down the hill with someone.

“Now, what was the reason we are out here in the blasted cold? Oh, yeah. My idea. No snoops. Well, you ready to change history?” Harry whispered through his muffler.

“Maybe we aren't changing anything at all, Harry. Time is funny that way. I feel in my bones that we are doing just what we were meant to do.” She smiled and blew on her chilled hands.

Dumbledore ambled over to the two students suited up in his regular robes looking toasty and warm. He actually had opened his robes and untied his tie to relieve the apparent warmth. He had cast a warming spell a little too strongly and was sincerely considering going back up to the dorm to fetch his swimming costume. He was accompanied by a tall, imposing fellow whose red hair was peeping out from beneath a rather posh bowler and a warm coat of sleek fur. The man reeked of precision and perfection and an attitude that expected no less from anyone else.

Fanning himself, Dumbledore and his friend reached the hut and hailed the two students. Harry looked suspiciously at the other person, and nodded at them both in greeting. He was surprised that Dumbledore had brought someone else. Dumbledore introduced his good friend as Edmund Prewitt, graduated last year who was visiting for the weekend.

Hermione was starting to feel uncomfortable as Dumbledore's companion was staring at her. His eyes were boring into hers and she could distinctly feel the dislike the man felt for her. He hid it well by greeting them nicely and hiding behind a polite smile; but the girl could see the calculations that were spinning behind his eyes.

Dumbledore left his friend off to the side and walked a space with the two students. His friend waved off his exclusion with a shrug, but Hermione could tell he was vexed to be kept from the information. His body was tense and he looked to her to be barely concealing his apparent anger. His eyes narrowed as he caught her watching him so she quickly turned away to focus on Harry and Dumbledore. Having him stare at her back did nothing to relieve the feeling she had that Dumbledore's friend was trouble.

She caught up to the boy's conversation just as Harry was beginning their list of what was acceptable to tell him. Dumbledore looked anxious and almost ready jump out of his skin. He didn't know what was coming, but by their expressions he could discern it was going to be bad.

“We don't know the true name of Grindlewald, just that you fought him and defeated him. We know that his group attacked Hogsmede a few weeks ago, so the timeline we can remember starts pretty soon. He attacks Hogwarts with a large group of dark wizards who try to take over the school to train up more followers. The castle is a fortress and he wanted a new more defensible place of operations. He also had the idea of starting his own little Junior Nazi group or something.” Harry paused at the confused look on Dumbledore's face with the Nazi reference, but waved it off as unimportant.

“He created several spells that are terribly powerful and deadly. For one, he created the Crucio curse which as Harry can attest is the most horrible curse that doesn't actually kill you. At least, not right away.” Hermione paused and looked back at Harry for confirmation before revealing more.

Dumbledore looked at them expectantly. “That can't be all. That tells me nothing. How can I defeat this man with just this?”

Harry grimaced and pursed his lips and began. “We know very little about Grindlewald. But what we do know concerns you in particular. The first of term the sorting hat sang a song about you. About all the houses really, but the main idea of the song was Dumbledore and Grindlewald…and how they were best friends.”

Harry watched as Dumbledore stood perfectly still. His eyes never wavered from Harry's as he tried to take in the information. “That can't be true.”

“My only best friend is…” Dumbledore looked over to the hut quickly to find his best friend gone.

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20. Traitor

Author's note:

Sorry about the upload for chapter 19. Apparently I messed up somewhere, and no one got the alert that it was posted. Well, here's two chapters for the price of one! Chaps 19 and 20. Please read and review…

Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter…

Chapter 20

Traitor…

It had been two weeks and Ron had nearly run a groove in the stone path around the castle in search of the missing students. He had been in every room imaginable and a few he didn't previously know about looking for his two friends. Harry and Hermione had vanished into thin air and shockingly no massive search had been set up to find them. Ron Weasley was going positively insane. Classes continued, tests were given and the days came and went; but without them things were oddly flat and colorless. He missed them terribly.

The boy had tried to catch Headmaster Dumbledore at least four times in the past two days but every time he tried to corner the wizard, Dumbledore would somehow sneak away before Ron could question him about Harry and Hermione's disappearance. After the first night Harry didn't show in the dorm for `light's out', Ron had asked Professor McGonagall about it. He almost decided not ask her at all when he remembered the spiteful things Cho had been spouting. But that wasn't Harry. He wouldn't be sneaking around with Hermione like that. Well, he didn't think so. Harry had too much respect for Hermione to have people talking about her again behind her back. Harry hated it when it happened to him, and he usually was very aware of it for others.

So he decided to seek out his Head of House. Professor McGonagall seemed perturbed, even irritable, but she merely said the Headmaster knew where the two were and not to bother her any more about it. She had been curt and sounded disapproving of the Headmaster's vague explanation, but she had always stood by the crazy old goat even when she didn't understand half of the extreme things he did. Most of the time things Dumbledore did made sense eventually so the Transfiguration Professor merely held interference with the students like Ron and Ginny who kept trying to pester the Headmaster with questions.

Even Hagrid seemed to try to hide when he saw the red headed boy persistently try to capture his attention. Ron was positive the weathered old giant would be on his side. He had always been a friend and compassionate advocate for Harry no matter what mess the boy had ended up in. Apparently Dumbledore had already gotten to the giant before Ron. Every time the boy brought the subject of the two missing students up, the giant tried to force a rocky piece of pastry down Ron's throat and change the topic to Quidditch. The boy had stormed out of the older man's hut in anger leaving a sad but stoic Hagrid standing wearily at the door.

Oddly, Ron had found the caretaker, Filch snoozing noisily in a small storage room under the Quidditch stands. Ron yelled and yelled but nothing would wake the man from his doze. Realizing the old buzzard was under a spell, he cast a quick `finite incantatum' and woke the cranky man up who was blustering about wizards and their stupid pranks. Ron didn't know what he was talking on about and didn't really want to be the one who was on the receiving end of Filch's anger, so he skived out and left the man yelling to himself without catching sight of Ron sneaking away.

He couldn't give up. There was no way Harry or Hermione would stop looking and he wasn't going to either. Tiredly he trudged back up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower and staggered through the hole. Neville was sitting ramrod straight in front of the fireplace staring off into the distance. He was mumbling to himself and nodding amiably. Ron couldn't even begin to think of what Nev was up to and didn't really have the energy to try. He bonelessly fell onto the ratty sofa and absently scratched Crookshanks behind the ears. The cat had become a mascot of sorts for the whole House and a reminder of who was missing. Everyone took care of the scraggly creature, but oddly Ron was the one the cat chose most often to grace with his companionship. He didn't think too much about it, and he and the cat had developed a sort of truce with the absence of Hermione. It was funny to Ron how much the silly cat's fur and Hermione's hair were so similar in color and bushiness. Sometimes when she was cuddling the cat Crooks would snuggle up under her chin giving the girl a ridiculous impression of super long twitching hair with a tail of her own.

Crookshanks rowled softly and butted his head against Ron's knee and rolled over in expectation of a proper petting. The red-headed boy grinned wanly and did as he was bid. The cat eventually had enough and flounced away leaving the boy alone with his thoughts.

“And then I should disable it. Right.” Neville mumbled to himself then stood and wandered off. Ron shrugged. Nobody seemed themselves lately. Neville is always muttering like a mad hermit, Ginny is hexing everybody who dares to talk to her and even Hagrid is talking Quidditch.

He shook himself then forced his body to get up and go upstairs. Tomorrow he'd check the dungeons again. Sometimes people get lost there. Or Malfoy's hexed them. Maybe they've found that funny mirror Harry showed me and are stuck staring at it. Maybe.

Ron was crawling into bed when suddenly the whole castle shook with a thunderous roar. Knick-nacks on dressing tables shattered as they fell to the ground and several bed hangings were knocked loose. Ron found himself thrown to the floor when a second blast knocked his head hard against the wall.

“This doesn't seem good.” Ron grabbed his wand and his shoes and flew out the door quickly followed by Seamus dressed only in boxers and Dean who had at least the foresight to grab his pants.

It was chaos in the common room as the dorms streamed upset students who were looking to Ron for answers. Within minutes, Ron had the fifth years in charge of the younger sets to calm them and called all the able sixth and seventh years to him.

Ron incindio'd the fire and floo-called the headmaster's office. The head of Professor Flitwick lurched dizzyingly in the grate. He looked frazzled but glad to see the Gryffindor house under control. Professor McGonagall could be heard in the background shouting orders to secure the front doors and to call for the Ministry. Apparently Hogwarts was under attack.

Hermione usually called the D.A. together, but she had shown him the spell and in moments, he sent the call by the magicked Galleon for all the Army to meet in the Great Hall immediately. Ron instructed those who felt able to fight to grab their wands and follow him. In minutes the stairs were filled with all the D.A. members and several older students who knew something dire was up. The clattering of feet flying down the steps was all that was heard as the students were silent and wand-ready.

Another blast filled the air knocking several students to the ground. Arms were grabbed and everyone made it to the Great Hall quickly. Dumbledore met them in a rush of robes and shouts at the large entry. His presence was crackling with power and his face looked grim.

Professor Adora, the Defense teacher, was standing behind him. They spoke for a moment then the Headmaster turned to face the expectant and frightened faces of his oldest students.

A large booming noise filled the air as another blast rocked the castle walls. Stone chips and dust rained down on them all as they ducked and covered their heads expecting the whole of the castle ceiling to fall down around them.

Headmaster Dumbledore stood in front of the group. “Those that are good at Defense go with Professor Adora. We are going to set up some cross-fire in the battlements and try to chase them off if they try to approach the doors. Those good with Charms go with Professor Flitwick. The wards are being attacked and it will take as much as we've got to get them stabilized and still keep the Attackers out. The D.A. is to come with me.”

He stared into Ron's and aGinny's eyes then continued, “We …are going outside.”

Ron nodded grimly and waved over Lee, Dean, Seamus, Ginny and Lav who were the closest. “Harry isn't here, but we know what he'd say. Be sure to protect yourselves and help those around you. If you get hexed too badly and can't fight, lay down and try to roll out of the way of the fighting. No one wants to kill a friend by mistake. I don't know what's out there, but no matter what happens, protect Dumbledore and do your best to keep the invaders out of the school. Once they enter the castle, children will die.” All their faces looked pale but steady and they nodded their understanding to Ron.

They all ran as a group to the front doors and streamed out sliding around the walls to keep themselves from being easy targets. Apparently the wards hadn't completely fallen, and they glowed oddly green and Ron could just make out a figure casting spells on the Hogwarts side of the barrier that was obviously trying to destroy the wards. Small holes like Swiss cheese dotted around the area revealing the greenly glowing partition that magically separated and hid Hogwarts from the outside world. In seconds the holes were getting bigger and several masked Death Eaters were shooting blasts through them attacking the castle from the other side. The D.A. members fanned out and shot back through the holes and scattered the huddle of attackers. The Dark Wizards quickly reassembled and began throwing nasty hexes at the student Army.

It wasn't very easy to aim through the breaks in the spell wall, so much of the shots were ineffectual on both sides. Ron grimaced and grunted as he rolled out of the way of a rather vicious curse that struck the side of the Quidditch shed knocking a hole the size of a Niffler. That really made Ron mad.

He caught sight of the dark figure setting the spell that would finally take down the barrier and with a grunt he shoved himself off the ground and ran to intercept. The Wizard didn't even have a protection spell on him and the man fell with a simple stunner. Ron watched as the holes quickly reformed and all the partition went transparent again. Apparently without the attacking spells of the wizard on this side, the wall would stay intact. He could hear the roars of anger of the Death Eaters who looked like they were in touching distance, but were stopped steps away from crossing over by the wards. He stared at the furious masked men who promptly disapparated while shaking their fists at him. Ron steadied his wand and reached the fallen Wizard and pulled him roughly onto his back

Ron couldn't believe it. Something was terribly wrong.

It was Neville.

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Lunch the next day was quiet and Ron sat grumpily at his spot at the Gryffindor table with the seats feeling very empty on either side of him. Other students around him were watching his red face and angry mutterings carefully trying to stay out of his way. Seamus had inadvertently crossed forks with him as they both reached for the same pork chop and got the royal Weasley telling off to show for it. Ginny was barely much better. Having a friend locked up in the dungeon having turned traitor and her best friend, Hermione go missing was terrible for Ginny and in grand Weasley tradition she had her own attitude in rare form as well. Students around her watched themselves as Ginny was known for a few rather potent hexes.

Neville was a traitor. Ginny didn't believe it. A couple of people made snide comments about him and were silenced by the flash in her eyes. No one was hurt from the attack save a few students who had bruises from being knocked about by the explosion. They had been very lucky. Ron had been hailed as a hero which surprisingly he shrugged off with disinterest. Apparently he didn't like being known as the boy who brought down Neville Longbottom.

Ginny grimaced at the sight of her brother glowering at everyone around him. These had been especially hard days for him and she felt really badly for him. Not that she'd tell him so and have her nose bitten off by his foul temper. Something had to be done and she'd finally come up with the solution. It was going to cost her, but it was the only way she could think of to finally get things moving again. The Headmaster knew something and he wasn't telling anyone.

The girl glowered at those around her and sat fuming as she tried to catch the eye of Dumbledore or McGonagall who were talking quietly to each other. The red-haired girl however had thought it through much further than her brother this time and she had an ace hidden up her sleeve.

A raucous commotion at the doors to the great hall had captured the attention of all the students and faculty and several students near the front were nearly knocked over when the doors flew open letting in a very strident and extremely livid Mrs. Molly Weasley.

Ginny couldn't help but smirk at the dismay on the faces of Dumbledore and McGonagall and even the widening eyes of Professor Snape as they caught sight of the imposing figure of the Weasley Matriarch. She was wearing her lumpy woolen knitted hat and coat in all their colorful glory and was swinging her oversized handbag in a forceful enough manner that at least three Slytherins in her way fell onto their backsides as they tried to escape out of the path of the angry and blustering female.

Ginny had considered telling her father, but she realized all that would do was bring the whole of the ministry down onto the school's faculty. By telling her mother instead, they had to face dealing with Molly Prewitt Weasley, almost mother to Harry Potter. That had to be sooo much worse. Ginny's smirk drew into an enormous grin and she started shoveling mashed potatoes from her shepherd's pie into her mouth with glee. Finally. Someone will have to tell us what is going on!

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21. Insanity

Author's notes:

Thank you to my husband, Charlie who has become my favorite fan…and beta. He is now so cute as he begs for new chapters. Thank you to all who read…We're coming to the good part!

Disclaimer: J.K. Owns the Universe. I just play here.

Chapter 21

Insanity

Harry watched his face as the realization hit Dumbledore like he was standing in front of an oncoming bus. The emotions flitting across his features varied from disbelief, despair, anger and finally desperate acknowledgement.

“I knew he had leanings that he wouldn't discuss with me. He knew how I felt about the attacks. He tried to talk today and convince me the ideas of Grindlewald were somehow right. I guess this was his last attempt to draw me into his regime.” Dumbledore growled and almost spat his words.

Harry and Hermione both drew their wands and were checking around the small building to see if Edmund Prewitt had secreted himself behind or around them to hear what they were saying. He was nowhere to be found. Hermione angrily stomped back to the front of the cottage to meet up with Harry and Dumbledore.

“We just let him slip through our fingers!” She huffed shoving her wand back up her sleeve.

Dumbledore was staring off into the distance with an eerily calm demeanor. “He isn't gone. He wants this castle and he is probably not alone. We have to be prepared. Harry, I think you both need to inform the Headmaster and I have a few things I need to do.”

Harry watched the face of the boy softly change into the countenance of a man with a mission. His heart clenched to see the joy leeched away from his friend to be replaced by an angry and resolute Wizard willing to kill his best friend. The boy could see the subtle changes that created the man from the future that Harry knew and admired. He wondered if he would have the same strength when it came to dealing with his own demons.

Hermione looked up at the Head Boy and wordlessly hugged him. With a small smile she pulled a tiny bag of lemon drops from her pocket and handed them to the boy. His face lighted up just for a second and he smile softly.

“Thank you, Hermione.”

“They're lemon drops. A kind of sweet and sour Muggle candy. I know you'll like them.” She smiled back, a little embarrassed by the heightened red in his cheeks.

“I'm sure I will love them.” His smile was fleeting and with a sigh he turned away from the two students and started walking up the hill.

Hermione paused for a moment then grabbed Harry's hand and they rushed back to the castle to alert the faculty to the imminent danger.

Grindlewald was not only in the area, but he has access to the castle and may already be inside. The old fortress had defenses, but how would they defend against someone who had already been invited in?

By the time everything had been explained to Headmaster Nigellus, several commands had been set into motion by Dumbledore and other faculty members that had been magically alerted during their conversation. Nigellus had sarcastically remarked that this was exactly the kind of information he would have liked to have been told during their first meeting, but Harry and Hermione impatiently brushed that comment aside and set to work letting the man become more aware of the forthcoming attack. Hermione didn't remember much, but the several specifics from Hogwarts, A History she did recall might be very useful after all.

By the time the Houses had been locked down with the youngest children safely secured, the fighting had commenced. Sounds of battle magics rang through the air zinging the surroundings with the metallic taste of blasting spells. The whole castle was surrounded by black robed Wizards who were incanting spells to break down the doors to the entrance. Apparently they had become closed to Edmund Prewitt/Grindlewald just in time. If Hermione hadn't told Dumbledore earlier, the Dark Wizard could have strolled right in and taken the castle without any chance of defeat. The few minutes head start had allowed the Headmaster and others to set the wards, prepare the castle's defenses and hide the children from harm.

Dumbledore apparated into the Headmaster's office wildly disheveled and crackling with magic. Even Nigellus took a step backward when he felt the power that was emanating from the young man.

“This is not your fight, Albus.” Nigellus spoke sharply as he took in the determined look in his eyes.

“Yes. It is. I knew. Well, I should have known. He changed over the last few years and started spouting that poison and I never said a word. That is exactly why this is my battle.” Dumbledore spoke with a growl.

The young man looked around the office a when his eyes saw what he was looking for he accio'd the item then disappeared.

Hermione sputtered and whispered to herself, “There's no apparating in Hogwarts, really!” Apparently what goes for everyone else doesn't necessarily go for Dumbledore even at this age.

Nigellus harrumphed then turned to the two students. They kept looking out the window to catch sight of the fight. Harry was itching to get out there and help. Being the one to send the message to the headmaster rankled a bit and his eyes flitted back and forth from the Headmaster who was speaking to the window in the corner. The Headmaster paused then waved them out.

“I don't know what a couple of sixth years can do to help them but you apparently think you can. Those with Dumbledore have been trained to fight, and it seems you never have been. I don't know what they are teaching in Hogwarts in your day, but it appears the Wizardly Gentlemen's fighting skills have become sorely lacking. If a wizard cannot duel, what kind of gentleman can they be?” Nigellus was almost talking to himself as the students were poised to run out of the office.

Hermione bit her tongue and just pulled Harry out the door and down the stairs. They hurried to the side entrance as the front was being closely guarded by grim faced faculty who shooed them out of the way. The side entrance was covered by students who were allowing other students in and out to help with defensive and protective spells until they tired and traded off. Harry was nodded out and even Hermione was allowed to follow. Apparently her reputation as a witch who would stand on her own was appreciated at least in this situation. They scooted out the door to face a barrage of spells that were intended to inflict enormous pain and hurt. Harry didn't hear one spell set to kill until he heard the voice of Edmund Prewitt yelling in a duel against Dumbledore.

The intensity of the bombardment of hexes and curses were overwhelming. Dumbledore was almost bent over with the force of the onslaught. His protection spell was holding but he wasn't able to fight back. Grindlewald's eyes were aflame in the power and exultation of the release of so much magic. His arms were raised above his head and he wasn't using his wand any longer. The spells rolled off him like oily flames that attacked his former friend.

“You should join me, Albus. There is no one that can rival our power. We could become Gods before the pathetic muggle masses. Why should we waste our time hiding ourselves and scraping about in small villages away from their stupid eyes? They see only what they want to see. I could make them see us, Albus. They could see us as their masters and serve us as they were truly meant to do. It is the true way things should be. Join me now, or we are finished. There will be no mercy for those who oppose me. It would be a terrible price to pay, my friend, but for truth, I will pay any price.” Grindlewald's face lit up with the frenzy of absolute religious fervor. He was smiling beatifically all the while shooting death and pain hexes at his friend.

Harry could see the anger and despair flood Dumbledore's face as he took in the speech of his friend. The man had become lost in his own insanity and sadly his fanatical leanings had drawn like-minded people to him.

Harry whispered a protection spell as Hermione did the same. A new barrier came to life in front of Dumbledore allowing him a moment to regain himself and stand again. Harry and Hermione's wands shook from the torrent of power that was thrown against their protection spell, but it held. Dumbledore saw Harry and Hermione and he nodded slightly to acknowledge their help. He had pulled out the small round object that he had taken from the headmaster's office and was about to throw it when a `reductor' curse caught him from behind knocking the object from his hands.

Harry raced up beside him and helped him back up. Hermione grabbed the orb as she shot blasts back at the followers of Grindlewald who had crept up behind them. Dumbledore was panting hard and his face was covered in sweat. He seized the sphere thankfully from Hermione's hands and pushed it into Harry's holding the top of the ball as well.

“The words are unimportant. But you must think about the castle. How much it needs to protect the grounds against all attackers. This is very important, Harry. Help me. I haven't much left. Know this will work. Put all of yourself into it. Believe that they cannot win, and imagine the whole of Hogwarts pushing them away.” Dumbledore stared into Harry's eyes until he could see understanding and agreement. They stood together silently for a moment allowing Hermione to protect them and then together they could feel the power within them build up then at the last possible moment they aimed and threw the orb at Edmund Prewitt.

Tears were softly falling down Dumbledore's face as he looked once again into his best friend's face. He closed his eyes for a moment so he wouldn't see the insanity that had taken over his once best friend.

Time seemed to slow and a ripple seemed to flow out from Edmund Prewitt and over his followers causing them all to freeze into place. Silence fell as they stood rigidly as all magics stopped for a second. Then suddenly the air was shattered by a shrieking noise as every attacker screamed and their bodies were blasted with force strong enough to shake the ground knocking Harry, Hermione and Dumbledore to the dirt. The sound of Pheonix song shrieked around their heads whipping their hair and lashing their robes tight against their bodies.

Within just a few seconds every black robed invader was stunned onto the ground. The dirt beneath them became muddy and swollen and horrifically the bodies started to sink; being swallowed up like they had staggered into quicksand. The squelching noise of people screaming as they were being buried alive made Hermione gasp and turn her face away. Harry looked on with a face white as a sheet, his eyes wide and horror-stricken. Dumbledore merely watched in silence as the grounds slowly returned to its former grassy self with the only thing showing the presence of the attackers being their wands scattered across the field. Without a word, Dumbledore walked to the place where his friend had been and picked up the wand that was still there and snapped it in half.

Harry watched as every wand of the dark wizard's followers across the field responded by snapping in half as well. Harry reached over and pulled Hermione close as she softly cried into his shoulder. His cheeks were wet as well, but he continued to watch Dumbledore as the Headmaster went out to meet him and other students followed in his wake.

Dumbledore paused the approach of the Headmaster with a raised hand and he reached down and grasped the round ball that had been thrown by himself and Harry. Picking it up, Dumbledore walked slowly back to Harry with a questioning look on his face. He stopped then put the orb into Harry's hand. It had been magically changed. Instead of the orb it had been, in Harry's hand now sat a large knobbly egg that started to shiver. In seconds the shell shattered and in Harry's palm sat a phoenix, hot to the touch. Harry's mouth dropped open and Dumbledore stood fascinated, and then took the small bird into his own hands.

Harry could feel the power and heat emanating from the small creature and he couldn't resist smiling.

“It's Fawkes!” Harry pulled Hermione to see the bird.

Dumbledore looked stunned and astounded, and then he smiled softly. “Yes. Fawkes. It seems perfect.”

The bird chirruped and bumped his beak against Harry's hand that was hovering over his head and he fluttered his wings awkwardly in Dumbledore's palm.

“Well.” Nigellus spoke as he walked purposely over to the students surrounding the newly hatched bird.

“It seems you were meant to be here after all, Mr. Potter. But I think this was a bit more than you were expecting.” Nigellus frowned when the bird snapped at his hand and seemed to chitter laughingly.

“I will be so glad when you graduate Mr. Dumbledore. It seems like normalcy is too much to ask for with you around.” The headmaster spun around and started striding back to the castle as if nothing more than a small disruption had taken place.

Dumbledore grinned wanly and handed the bird back to Harry then turned and followed the old Wizard back up the hill.

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22. The Power of the Spell

Chapter 22

The Power of the Spell

It was a week after the attack and things had slowed down to normal. They still hadn't found a spell to send them back. Hermione had forced Harry to actually read some of his Magic Design text and he was beginning to believe his eyeballs could really just roll up into his skull in boredom. The writing was dry and difficult and he felt he had read the same words over and over again. Hermione was working diligently on her Healing essay. She had titled it, “Why Healing Never Works on Muggles, and the effects of conventional Muggle Medicine on Wizards”. Apparently she had put forth the concept of Wizard Magic interfering with Muggle Medicine and the opposite being true as well. It showed in how seldom Wizards, even Muggle-born were almost never ill except from Wizard-borne hexes or spells. It also theorized that Muggle medicine was useless to wizards since their bodies would reject anything that wasn't magically based.

Her professor was delighted of course, which only made Harry shake his head. Even in the past, Hermione was the teacher's pet. The concept in her paper was actually a new idea in the future as well, and he wondered what changes her new ideas would have on the future. Probably not much being just an essay in school, but it got him to thinking pretty seriously about all the repercussions that would be had by their actions in the past. Headmaster Nigellus hadn't approached him about the information on the future and Harry didn't know quite what to think of that. Nigellus wasn't quite the horror Harry had imagined of a Slytherin Headmaster. Yes, he seemed much more into Filch's way of punishment, but it was still the Eighteen fifties and probably accepted by more than he would have imagined.

He stretched and re-wrote the last few sentences of his own essay. “In the creation of magical spells, it is the thought, focus and desire that powers the enchantment. An increase in any of these characteristics increases the power of the spell. The connection between words, feelings, and the focusing control of a wand or even wandless magic creates the initial spark that drives all magic.”

This actually started to make sense to him. The fight with Grindlewald and what Dumbledore had told him had made a huge impression on him. The few times that he was forced to face Voldemort he had succeeded because somewhere inside him he knew he had to win. His focus would narrow to that razor-thin point and all he would be able to think about was his friends and how he was the only barrier between them and the Evil that Voldemort would do. It felt like an epiphany to him. He finally understood that the feeling or the indescribable need inside himself to `do' these seemingly impossible tasks was his creative ability coming through his magic. He felt like jumping out of his seat and running fifty laps around the school shouting, `I get it! I really get it!” which would be a stupid thing to do as Filch would of course tie him up by his fingernails and make him eat bugs or something. Even so, the grin on his face wasn't unnoticed by his girlfriend across the table. She glanced at his essay and smiled while rolling her eyes at the paragraph. She understood that, of course. She'd been taking Arithmancy for years already. Even so, she re-read the statement and it got her thinking.

“Do you think that's really all there is to it, Harry? Is all the things we learn like the words and the `swish and flick' really unimportant? Is it just like Tinker bell and all we have to do is just clap and believe?” She looked at him seriously and put her hand underneath her chin in bemusement.

“Oh, I don't know. I do know that when I blew away the Dementors at the lake I really knew I could do it. Everything just stopped and I could center my mind completely on my Patronus. Maybe all a spell can be is just the accumulated movements and words that help you focus your mind to do that task. Have you ever seen a Neville work on a spell in the D.A.? At first he's all klutzy and gangly legs because he's afraid we're all looking at him and it takes him forever to get the spell to work. But he was fantastic when he could focus when he was at the Ministry that night or at least until he broke his nose…” Harry paused. He hadn't thought about that night in weeks. He hadn't thought about Sirius or anything about that terrible night in ages. The guilt swamped him for a moment until Hermione reached over and took his hand.

“Thanks, `Mione.” He smiled softly back at the concern on her face.

She rubbed an ink-stained finger across her face and wrinkled her nose at him.

“Well! This is crazy. I don't think we're going to find this spell we are looking for so I think we're going to have to be creative and make one.” Harry knew he was a goner when he thought that insane look of determination on her face was cute. He grinned and merely raised his shoulders in agreement like any good boyfriend should. She laughed lightly at his resigned expression and gave him a little kiss on his nose.

“Ha! You can do better than that!” He waggled his eyebrows at her leering comically.

“Harry!” she hissed. “Not in the library! Remember how mad the Historian was…”

He grabbed her hand and shoved their books and parchments quickly into her bag in one swoop.

“You're right.” He grinned and pulled her out the door.

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Several days had passed and the two had settled into a routine of sorts. Attend classes, eat in the tower, study and homework then off to a secluded room to work on the time travel problem.

They sat down together on the floor with their knees touching. Hermione was relaxed but with good posture, while Harry's forehead had wrinkled with concentration and he had slumped over resting his arms slackly across his legs. He had shoved his sleeves up to his elbows and in his frustration had completely set his tie in disarray. Dust motes filtered down dancing among the feeble sunbeams that somehow had survived the early snow. It was crisp and clear outside and the windows revealed students of all ages taking advantage of the velvety snow and bright sunshine all rolled into one. Harry grimaced when a solitary rider flew past the window with a loud whoop. What he wouldn't give to be back on his broom. Maybe later he could borrow one out of the shed…it won't be like the racing broom he left behind but at least he'll be flying! Maybe later if the sun lasts he could… Hermione interrupted that train of thought with a not-so-subtle throat clearing that indicated he should be meditating.

How she could talk him into such things he couldn't quite figure out. Last year if she had mentioned extra spell homework he and Ron would've laughed her right out of the room. But last night she was so close on the couch and her soft, silky hair smelled so nice and she kissed just under his ear where it tickled but it felt so goodreallyreallygood…and he was a goner. Harry realized he might have a chance if Ron was here, but alone with Hermione?...he'd always lose. Well, he'd lose but he'd be snogging his girlfriend, so that's not much of a loss, really. All in all, except for a few pangs for missing out on a pick-up Quidditch match, he'd rather be here with her than anywhere.

“Alright, Harry. Are you ready to begin? First we imagine the first layer spell—we want transport so think `anteeo' with a raised wand. Then we think `peragro' with a swish and a flick…

Harry snorted completely breaking Hermione's train of thought. “Harry! You are being no help whatsoever!” She crossed her arms in front of her and scowled.

He leaned back against the wall to relieve the tension in his shoulders.

“Look, Hermione. All the Latin words in the dictionary aren't going to help us get home. Besides, you sounded just like Ron imitating you in first year Charms. “Swish and Flick!” He grinned as he imitated Ron mimicking her.

“Fine. Whatever. We're never getting home this way.” Her tone was icy and she stood up to flounce away making Harry scramble up and try to salvage the situation.

“Look, Sweetheart. The creation of a spell can't just be figuring out the words and how we should gesture. We have to build this from the standpoint of what it is we really want. What is the desire and power behind it? If it was just words and wand anyone could do magic. And right now, I don't really think I'm ready to go back. It's nice here. No one is trying to kill me and I have you all to myself.”

Harry pulled the girl into a close hug wrapping his arms around her shoulders from behind. She didn't give way in her expression at all, but he could feel by her bearing that she was softening.

“You called me Sweetheart.” Her mouth tugged up into a whisper of a smile turning her head to meet his eyes brightly.

“Yeah, I did. It kinda fits, doesn't it?” He snuggled closer and tried to hide his reddening cheeks.

“I like it.”

“I'll continue to use it.”

“Good.”

They stood there watching the swirls of dust rise and fall and listened to the sounds of laughter of children at play.

“You do realize you're hiding, don't you?” Hermione whispered softly.

Harry's grip loosened, but he didn't let go of her completely. He knew it. She knew it. But it didn't hide the fact that here they were both safe. Here they could live for a hundred years before ever hearing the name of Voldemort. Hell, they could stop the git from ever coming to power! Everything could be perfect…

“No, Harry. We can't stay.”

“To everything there is a season…That was what Dumbledore told me just before we left. A time to live and a time to die. “ He paused for a moment then pulled back. She could feel his tension rise as he started to pace the floor.

“I never told you about the prophecy. I didn't want to believe it myself but it is real. I know I have to go back. Time or fate or God has decided I have to kill a man. I am going to become a murderer.” Harry's eyes burned harshly and he released her shoving his hands in his pockets as his expression slowly shuttered closed.

“But I thought the prophecy was lost! How could you know what it said? What do you mean you will have to kill a man? Voldemort? Well, of course you're going to have to kill him. Let's not beat around the bush here, Harry. It's not like we can politely send him off to Askaban or say, `Sorry, but you're going to have to quit all that bad behavior and start acting nice-nice... This is a real fight! The only one who doesn't seem to realize the severity of the situation is you! You're going to have to kill him and I will be right there with you and so will Ron! And don't forget the D.A.! You may have been in a prophecy but that doesn't mean we won't be there to help.” Hermione had on her doggedly intense face and he could tell she meant every word.

“Well, actually the prophecy said `…And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…' I've got it memorized,” Harry mumbled.

She stared at him silently for a moment. She slowly took in how young he looked, no matter how much height he had gained over the summer. His shoulders were wider, but he still lacked filling out, and his eyes were still large like a child's and he was standing gawkily as if unsure what to do with his hands, either pocket them or run them through his already messy hair. It touched her heart to know someone she cared so much for was going to have to do something so terrible. She didn't know if she wanted to kiss him or mother hen him. In the end she merely turned away so he wouldn't see the tear try to roll down her cheek. She stopped it, and breathed deeply to keep her emotions in check.

“Harry. We have to go. And we have to want to go if this spell is ever going to work. I know you're no coward. You have always helped me no matter the danger. Look at that stupid troll incident and you were only eleven! If we don't go back who else will have to die? Ron? Neville? Maybe all of Ron's family `cause you know they'll all be in the thick of it…”

Harry's face contorted in pain as he thought of losing Molly and Arthur or any of the family. He could imagine every red headed boy in that family, not to mention Ginny, with faces of absolute resolution to fight to the death. His breath nearly left him as the enormity of the situation hit so close.

“You're right! What was I thinking? How could I be so selfish?” Harry started pacing again rushing his hands up and down his arms and pulling his robes tightly across his body.

“Calm down, Harry! You were just enjoying the first experience of freedom and safety you've ever known. I don't think anyone would fault you for that.”

The boy sat back down hard on the floor and positioned his body for absolute concentration. He was mumbling to himself and unconsciously rocking back in forth as if he were listening to music and keeping the beat.

“What do we need? What is the most important thing? We need…we require…”

His eyes shot open and he nearly fell over since his legs were folded underneath him.
“Hermione! I've got it! We NEED the Room of Requirement! It always gets us exactly what we need! Why didn't we think of this before? I know once we walk through that door, we'll find a book or a parchment or some odd magical gizmo that will do the trick or at least lead us to it!” He finally detangled himself and whooped while forcing the girl to jump around with him in a circle.

“That's great, Harry!” She grinned then rushed to the door causing him to chase after her. They both ran out the door and up the staircases to the familiar corridor on the seventh floor. The found the odd tapestry showing Barnabas the Balmy trying to teach trolls to dance the ballet, and they walked past three times thinking hard about needing a way back home to their own time. Expectantly, and panting, the two giggled and grabbed onto each other's arms. Nothing happened.

Harry stared hard at the wall hoping to find some indication of the door that he remembered. Hermione was fingering the tapestry and looking underneath thinking maybe the ugly needlework had been moved at some time. Nothing.

“What's the word in Latin for requirement, `Mione?” Harry said a bit sarcastically.

“Expeto, indigeo or postulo.” She said automatically.

“Great.”

He sat down hard onto the floor in defeat.

Hermione started pacing back and forth in front of the space where the door should have been. She was thinking hard and stopped every few seconds ticking off ideas soundlessly on her hands. She would shake her head and then start walking again. Harry merely watched her thinking to himself that she had finally tipped off the end.

Bending onto her knees right in front of the boy, she rubbed her hands together then placed them on her hips.

“Harry! It's never that easy. But think about it! You were right. We need the Room of Requirement. It's perfect. To think we did it is amazing! Just think, Harry! We know it worked because it was there! Just like how you brought your powerful Patronus to save us—you knew because you had already seen it!”

Harry stared at her with her wildly billowing hair falling out of her carefully set plaits. Her expression was so familiar and dear to him he couldn't help but smile. Intensely biting her lip and waiting for Harry to react, she nearly fell over when he hopped back up and grasped her in a big hug.

“You're right! I do give up too easy. Let's think about this. We really need the room, but more than that we need the castle to KNOW it needs to help us.”

“I've always felt the castle knew me…is that crazy?” Hermione looked a little embarrassed to admit such an idea.

“Think about it, `Mione. How do the stairs know we need to get to the fourth floor and line up just in time? There is intelligence here. Maybe all the magicks over the years have bled off to infuse this old place with a personality of its own. Or maybe the Founders built it that way. Who knows? But haven't you often felt that it somehow is alive?” Harry was serious and peered into her eyes to see if she believed him.

“Yesss…I guess. If we made the room, and the castle is sentient, then I assume we have it's approval. It will be an odd and powerful spell, Harry. Do you think we can do it?”

“Well, we have to try.” Harry cleared his throat and pursed his lips in contemplation.

“What do we know about the Room? You have to pass three times. You have to think really hard about what you want. It sometimes gives you what you need and not exactly what you think you need. That's a spell that requires the castle to know what you're thinking. Hmm. Any ideas?” Hermione ticked off what they knew in her best Professor McGonagall manner.

He hid his smile and rubbed his forehead looking up and squinting at the ceiling. It didn't help.

“Desire, Power, Focus and Control.” He chanted softly under his breath repeating it over and over. She watched him intently then grabbed his hand and raised her wand to point at the wall where the door should have been.

“Desire, Power, Focus and Control… Desire, Power, Focus and Control… Desire, Power, Focus and Control… Desire, Power, Focus and Control…” They continued to chant as their voices once discordant started to harmonize. His voice a rich baritone with hers a soft alto mixing and expanding and causing the air to shimmer. They closed their eyes to concentrate holding both wands slightly touching together.

They could feel the walls start to warm and pulse behind them like a living body. They scrambled up and held onto the vibrating wall, never breaking their chain of words and concentration. A swell of power throbbed around them and their harmony suddenly included a low pounding note that seemed to charge the air with a strong burst of energy.

Everything started to become bright, the air around them glittered unnaturally and the sound from their mouths was suddenly overpowered by the pounding throb around them. Their mouths opened and their eyes widened as they stared at each other and everything become silent and still.

With an enormous explosion of sound and light they were thrown up against the wall with a scream. Harry reached for Hermione's hand and held on as tightly as he could. The light dimmed and they could see again. He grabbed her against himself and shaded his eyes until the light appeared natural again. They were in a room, stark white and pristine. The walls barely had definition from the floor and ceiling, and the lack of color was both startling and surreal.

“It could be the Room of Requirement.” She whispered softly. Hermione gasped out the breath she had been holding and stared around herself.

“It could be… The only problem I can see…is we have no door.” Harry growled and sat down hard in the middle of the room.

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23. The Future is...NOW!

Chapter 23

The future…is Now!

Harry sat on the floor tapping his wand against his forehead in deep thought. Hermione had traveled around the room several times trying to find a break in the wall or some indication of at least where the wall and the floor met. Nothing.

Hermione sat down with a sigh next to her boyfriend leaning against his back.

“I guess it's likely we haven't finished the spell, yet. Maybe there is something else at this stage. We've never been on the inside only on the out when we made our wishes. Could it be as simple as making the wish inside?” Hermione spoke over her shoulder.

“I don't think so. I've been wishing for a whole bunch of stuff and nothings happened. It has to be more than that.” Harry pursed his lips and stuffed his wand behind his ear.

“Maybe it's just is new at this. We have to really wish hard. Let's try together. What we need is the room from our time. Can you visualize it, Hermione? We need all the pillows in the corner, all the books on the wall…” Harry grabbed her hands and closed his eyes concentrating hard.

“…and the sneak-o-scopes and that odd Mirror on the wall…”Hermione continued for him.

The walls started to shimmer as if it was remembering something out of focus but couldn't quite make it clear. Slowly different items started to appear. In moments a door came into view and breathlessly Harry stared at Hermione wide-eyed.

“Do you think…?” Hermione grinned and ran to the door just as the knob started to turn. Cho Chang stared stupefied at Harry and Hermione as the voice of Terry Boot could be heard just behind her.

“I knew it!” Cho sputtered and spun around to run right into Terry's chest. Harry gave a whoop of joy and lifted Hermione up into the air for a second then pulled her through the door. Even Hermione couldn't help jumping up and down with elation at finally getting home. She gave Terry a buzzing smooch on the cheek and Harry laughed as they looked down the hallway to see things just as they should be. They looked a little bedraggled having come through so much. Harry turned to Hermione and grinned hugely.

“Ron's gonna have kittens!” Harry laughed at the idea of seeing Ron again and Hermione grabbed his hand in agreement.

“What day is it, Cho?” Hermione was giggling and looked at the pretty Ravenclaw expectantly. When Cho didn't say anything, she turned and looked at Terry who had an expression of dismay and shock all rolled into one.

Cho's face grew cold. “You've both been hiding in the Room of Requirement for two months and act like nothing has happened? You could have left a note or something. I mean, there's been a few rumours that you two…” She raised her eyebrows and sneered leaving them to fill in the blanks.

“Well, I can't say I really want to see what the room's been like for you two, but I guess I could stand a quick look…” She smiled viciously and turned expecting to see something salacious about the room and was disappointed.

Harry and Hermione's expressions quickly lost their smiles and they both stared at Cho and her harsh and accusatory stance.

“What are you talking about, Chang?” Hermione raised her hands to her hips and looked incredulously at the Ravenclaw.

“It's December 7th. You've been missing for ages. Everyone thought Harry decided to run rather than face You-Know-Who and he took you along to, well…I don't know why he'd take you, but… whatever.” Cho flipped her hair back and stood defiantly with her arms crossed.

“You thought I'd done WHAT?” Harry got loud and immediately angry.

Hermione turned and took Harry's hand in hers. He grasped it tightly but he was still tense and just barely holding back on his anger.

“I'm sure you had nothing to do with all those foul rumours, did you, Cho? Sometimes I can't believe what a jerk you can be. Come on, Harry. We have friends who are probably worried about us.” Hermione pulled him away still seething at what the girl had insinuated and they ran down the stairs to the Great Hall.

“You realize we've skipped a month or two here. When we were in the past it was only mid- October. What happened to the other days? Did we spend all that time in the Room of Requirement?” Harry looked still angry but now leaned more toward confused and irritable.

“I don't know Harry. I am just glad to be back even vaguely close to the time we left. I'm not going to mess with time for…well…a long time.” She snorted at how stupid that sounded.

The doors to the Great Hall burst open with Molly Weasley ranting at the top of her voice at Headmaster Dumbledore with several other of the faculty following closely behind. Harry could see Ginny and Ron coming up the rear and with a whooping yell he bounded around the crowd and nearly knocked Ron over. Instantly Ron had his wand out and ready to fire before he realized who had attacked him. Ginny saw Hermione and Harry and nearly sat down on the floor in amazement. Hugs went all round until the boys became uncomfortable hugging then merely tried to beat each other to death in joy.

Molly had pushed everyone out of the way until she could grab Harry and be sure for herself he was alright. She spent several minutes hugging him and cleaning bits of dirt off his face and more hugging. After she was sure he was perfectly fine, she changed into a frightening figure that promptly railed and scolded him for being missing for so long. She could have continued for quite a while if Dumbledore hadn't gently led her to his office where she instantly started sobbing in relief.

Harry was truly touched to see how much she cared. Walking over to the softly crying woman he kissed her fondly on the cheek. With a watery smile she pulled him again into a hug then released him when the rest of the group started to settle down and sit in the magically produced chairs that filled Dumbledore's office.

Ron sat next to his friends staring at them as if they could disappear if they tried to get out of his sight. Hermione had settled beside Harry into a fluffy reading chair wide enough for them both and released a sigh of contentment and relief to be finally home.

The group grew quiet and their faces lobbed from Harry's to Dumbledore's as neither said a word; merely grinned at each other remembering the Past.

“Ok. Fine. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” Ron couldn't stand it any longer. He had jumped out of the chair and stood over the couple in the chair like a crazed interrogator.

Dumbledore chuckled and waved his hand causing Ron to plop back down into his seat indignantly.

“I know there are numerous questions you would all like to ask, but I am going to request that you take my word that Harry and Hermione were on a mission for me. They were safe and always under my care. I couldn't tell you when they were to return because I didn't know exactly, but I knew they would be all right. There are some things that must remain secret.” Dumbledore took a small round ball that made Hermione gasp in recognition and he threw it up into the air where it promptly disappeared. The old wizard smiled softly to everyone in the room.

“Would anyone like a lemon drop?”

“Oh, Albus. That tells us nothing!” She harrumphed and stood up to leave. “Harry, dear. I am so glad you and Hermione are all right. Maybe when you come this summer you will be willing to tell me the truth.” She glared at the Headmaster and strode out the door.

Ron and Gin both watched their mother pet Harry and not even acknowledge that they were there. Ron snorted. Sometimes when his mother was in this kind of mood it was better no to be noticed.

Ginny crossed her arms and fumed. She still didn't know anything!

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Hermione had had a headache from the moment they had come back. The building of pressure was starting to make her cross. Her stupid wrist starting itching again and the welt had returned full force. Maybe she had an allergy or something. All I need is a good long shower and a change of clothes.

Hermione had dragged herself upstairs and had basically collapsed onto her bed. It seemed like too much energy would be needed to reach the shower after all.

“Weren't you going to the showers, Herms?” Ginny had skived off class to make sure Hermione was alright. Not that it took much to make Ginny want to sneak out of Potions with Professor Snape. It seemed anyone with red hair had a target painted on their backs in that class.

Lazily Hermione grinned at her friend. “Well, that sure smacks of effort, doesn't it. I don't think I have the energy to even crawl to the baths. I'll get there…it just may take a while.”

Ginny grinned back. “If you were meeting a certain green-eyed Seeker, you'd jump up in a hurry!” Hermione merely stuck out her tongue and threw a pillow at Gin.

“You'd be just as giddy if you convinced Nev to finally ask you out!” Hermione laughed but stopped when she saw the horrified expression on Ginny's face and she sat up quickly when her friend crumpled into tears.

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Harry had watched everyone else exit leaving him staring at Dumbledore trying to find “Buzzy” inside the face he knew so well. A turn of the jaw here or a twinkle in the eye made Harry grin at the memory of the funny, quirky boy from the past.

“You've changed, a little.” Harry grinned.

“You haven't at all.” Dumbledore responded with a wry smile.

“I knew you the instant you started here. Younger, yes and so very tiny, but it was you. I was sure of it. One of many different secrets I've hidden from you.” Dumbledore leaned back into his tall chair and stroked his beard absently.

“I was just glad that Nigellus didn't remember me in the office from last year. He probably wouldn't have given me the time of day if he had. I guess all Slytherins aren't bad. He really came through in the end. I think I understand Filch a little better, too.” Harry couldn't help but take a quick look up at the portrait of Headmaster Nigellus who was staring down at him with one eyebrow raised.

Dumbledore smiled. “Yes, you did make an impression on the old Headmaster, didn't you. You had a lot of anger that day.” His smile faded and he looked sad for a moment.

“Do you think you are ready to hear what Sirius had to say to you? A lot has happened in the past few months. I hope you have worked through some of the pain you had kept so close to yourself.”

Harry sighed quietly and felt the knot of grief drift over him. It wasn't as strong as it was, but he could still feel the regret and sadness when he thought of his Godfather.

“Hermione helped me. She's my girlfriend now, did you know?” Harry smiled softly.

“She's given me so much strength and I have to admit, she's given me so much more. I don't feel like the kid no one wanted any longer. With her, I know I am important to someone. She gives me hope.”

Dumbledore's eyes were suspiciously wet, but he blinked the moisture away. Reaching into his desk drawer he pulled out a small painting. It was about the size of a postcard with a small cheap frame around it. The old Wizard handed it to Harry and tapped it with his wand making the picture expand until it was a life-size image of Sirius from the chest up.

Harry felt his breath catch as Sirius nodded at Dumbledore and cheekily waved at Harry.

“Yes, yes. I'm dead. These blasted pictures don't work until you are, so here it is.” Dumbledore magicked an easel for the painting and then sat down to hear what the painting had to say.

“Well, Harry. I know you're fretting about what happened and I don't want you to take it all on yourself. Falling through a veil. How stupid am I? NO REGRETS, Harry! It wasn't your fault. Besides. You gave me back my life. If I never knew you, my life would have been so much less, you know?” Sirius started to grin wryly and rub his own eyes.

“Now. No blubbering. You may not have the real me, but at least I can make snarky comments when you try to get dressed for dates and such. I could be just like my mother and start screaming whenever you try to bring a girl home!” Sirius started to guffaw at the idea and Harry had to smile even through his tears.

“Now for the serious stuff. I want you to know how much I loved you. You were the son I would have wanted. I just regret that our time was so short. I want you to take care of Remus. I know, I know. He won't want anything, but he needs you. He's the only one left and he's all alone. SO, I want you to let him know that the Grimmauld place is his. Maybe if you're real nice he'll let ya stay there for Summers.” Sirius smiled softly remembering the gentle Werewolf and old friend.

“You do realize how much I care about you, don't you? I know you probably have fan mail and people swooning at the boy-who-lived, but for me you were just the skinny messy haired son of my best mate, James. I looked at you and saw the sweetness of Lily and the mischievousness of James all rolled into one. If I had only gotten to Lilly first, you could have been my boy! Of course, she only had eyes for James, but it didn't stop me from trying in the beginning.” He laughed at the scandalized look on Harry's face.

“Boy, you are perfect. You are the embodiment of all the goodness of two truly good people. I want to make sure you KNOW how much you were loved by those two. And by me. I'm sorry none of us are still here in person, but we are with you in your heart. And in this rather tacky frame.” Sirius snorted at his feeble joke but resumed when he saw Harry roll his eyes.

“I'd like the Order to take what they need from my vault, but the rest is yours. I'd imagine the accumulated money from the whole of the Black family has to be considerable. You'll have enough to do whatever you want when you graduate. Be sure to help people with it. The stain of Dark Magic on the Black family ended with me. I'd be pleased to know that you're using it for the good of others…and let my family go to rot.”

Harry grimly accepted the parchments handed him by Dumbledore that included the deed to the house for Remus which Harry signed and a paper from the bank with a figure that stunned an already wealthy Harry.

“I gave Remus a Trust Fund as well, I knew there'd be more than enough.” Sirius nodded at the other parchments on the table.

“I wanted to be sure that you'd always have a little bit of me looking out for you. I hope you don't throw me in the attic. You know by my mother that us Blacks have a distinctly loud singing voice, so, beware!” Sirius bark-laughed softly as Dumbledore reshrank the picture to a manageable size for Harry to carry up the stairs.

“Thank you, sir.” Harry whispered through his tears.

He walked up the stairs slowly and began to softly smile as he could barely hear the voice of Sirius singing ribald limericks from his pocket.

5

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24. Finite Incantatum

Chapter 24

Finite Incantatum

Harry had placed the painting of Sirius on his beside table sized to match the eight by ten photograph of his parents and himself as a small baby. Sirius smiled fondly at the couple who waved jauntily at him in greeting then settled himself in for a long nap. After checking on all of his things he had been missing for so long, including his broom, Harry tiptoed out of the room to let Sirius sleep. It had already been a long day. Months long, to be exact. They had missed a lot and so much had happened. Harry couldn't wait to find Ron and tell him about what had happened to them in the Past.

Harry trotted down the stairs humming a little. It had been wonderful to have had such a vacation. It was a vacation of sorts. He felt great. Rested, even. It had been such a long time since he had gone just one night without nightmares or Voldemort-induced visions and finally not dragging around being exhausted made him feel strong and much more confident. Not to mention having a girlfriend who liked him for just being Harry and not some puffed up symbolic hero-figure. All it took for Harry to feel like the world was normal was for Hermione to roll her eyes and say, “Whatever, Harry” in that sarcastic voice. It made him shudder to think he could have dated one of those smarmy `fans' of his who would simper and giggle every time he walked by.

It was late in the afternoon and most of the classes had let out. A few students lounged about the common room having divested themselves of any robes or ties and had settled in wearing the Quidditch team shirts for Puddlemere and the Falcons who were playing tonight on the Wizarding Wireless. The light filtered through the stained glass and scattered colors everywhere warming the room with their playful dance. Harry threw himself lazily onto the couch and perched his glasses onto his forehead closing his eyes. It was good to be home.

Ron busted in through the door with a grunt and upon seeing Harry slouching on the couch, grinned widely and took a running leap that landed him beside his friend and knocking the dark haired boy over with a surprised yelp.

“Are you mental? Like I need anyone else trying to kill me!” Harry snorted as he righted himself and shoved Ron onto the floor in reprisal.

“Oh, I'm not the one you have to worry about, mate. You missed a couple of matches between us and the `Claws and the `Puffs and the rest of the team wants your skin for a flag. We were slaughtered by the Ravenclaws but made up somewhat with the `Puffs so it really isn't that terrible. I'd just watch your back when some of the team starts coming near.” Ron leered menacingly making Harry grin and roll his eyes.

Seamus leaned over the back of the couch and whispered something into Ron's ear that made his smile disappear. Ron looked back at Seamus and nodded quickly. Harry noticed the seriousness of the two Gryffindors making Harry wonder what was so dire that they were whispering about it in front of him.

“What's up? What did I miss? You can't keep me out of it whatever it is…” Harry put his hand on Seamus' shoulder and got the young man to face him.

“Harry…well, there's a lot that happened while you were …on your mission or whatever…” Seamus rolled his eyes showing that even he didn't quite believe in Dumbledore's `mission'.

Harry ground his teeth in frustration. “Just tell me what happened, Seamus!”

Ron pulled his leg up and propped his chin on top. His expression surprised Harry and he thought his friend seemed older somehow. Ron rubbed his eyes wearily then nodded again to Seamus.

“I'll take tonight's shift with Harry. I don't have anything but Binns and Hagrid tomorrow so it'll be easier to catch a few winks then.”

Ron stood up and shoved his hands roughly into the pockets of his jeans. He stood up and started walking to the door then turned with a pause towards Harry.

“You coming?” Ron questioned quietly.

Harry was confused. He shrugged then followed Ron out the door.

“What's with the mystery?” Harry whispered as they traveled down the third set of stairs to the lower parts of the castle.

“We're going to watch after Neville.” Ron muttered just loud enough for Harry to hear.

“Neville? Is he alright? Did he mess up another Snape potion?” Harry grinned remembering Neville and his scales and dragon eyes from a potion gone wrong.

“No.” Ron paused and looked Harry in the eye. “We're on Suicide watch.”

Harry gasped in horror and felt rooted into place. Suicide Watch? What the hell is Ron talking about? What did happen while they were away? He wanted some answers and he wanted them NOW.

Harry grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him back around to face him. Ron's expression was hard and cold. He crossed his arms in front of him and tapped his foot.

“While you and Hermione were doing whatever it was you were doing,” He smirked snidely, “We faced off an attack by Death Eaters. The castle took a beating and they nearly brought down the Wards to kill us all. However, we caught the traitor who was working the spell to disarm the Castle's Protections just in time.” His smirk died on his face.

“Did Neville get hurt in the battle? What the Hell were they after? Were you there?” Harry shot question after question with each one landing on Ron like a blow.

“You don't understand, Harry. Neville was the traitor. He went Wormtail on us.”

Harry stood there in shock as Ron walked a few paces then opened a dungeon cell with a large oversized key. He spoke a quick spell and the door glowed harshly for a moment then opened on its own.

Ron grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him through the doorway. He could see Neville sitting in the corner of a dusty, dank stone-walled room leaning against the wall listlessly. Ginny was sitting just inside the door with red eyes that didn't move from the prisoner as the two boys walked quietly in.

“Gin. What are you doing here? Dean was supposed to be on duty right now.” Ron growled at his sister angrily.

“It's no use, Ron. He won't speak to me at all. I convinced Dean to let me take the last ten minutes of his shift in hopes I could get him to talk, but he hasn't even looked at me.” Her voice wavered but didn't break. She refused to cry. She took a deep breath and stood up.

“Maybe he'll talk to you, Harry. If we could just get him to tell us why. That's all.” She hung her head and slid out the door silently.

“I don't believe it.” Harry watched Ginny leave then turned and faced Ron resolutely.

“I'm the one that caught him and I don't want to believe it either, Harry.” Ron stated grimly.

“Suicide Watch?” Harry whispered.

“Yeah. He tried to kill himself a few days after we had him in the infirmary. That's why he's down here. It a magic-free cell and we've taken all the possible things away that he could use to inflict harm on himself. Ever since then he hasn't said a word.”

Harry ached to see his friend apparently beaten and hopeless on the floor. “Was he under a curse?”

“Snape tested him for the imperious first thing and came up empty. It's gone now if it was ever there. If he was under the imperious curse, there's no way to really tell. That's why all the old Death Eaters got away, like Malfoy Senior. They said they were imperio'd and there's no real way to disprove it.”

Harry's expression darkened. “Snape's not the best one for curse-breaking. Why didn't Dumbledore do it?”

“I don't know, Harry! This has been really hard, you know? Other houses have tried to sneak in here and attack Neville just as we're trying to keep him from killing himself. Everyone in Gryffindor calls him Pettigrew now and I've had to keep Ginny from crying so much she makes herself sick. All I know is Neville did it. He tried to help the Death Eaters gain entrance to the castle. Can you imagine how many children would have died? They would have killed everyone! I don't know if they were after you or if they were after Dumbledore or if they just wanted a high-profile attack, but Neville was a part of it…” Ron was panting from the exertion of trying not to yell.

“It's alright, Ron. It's O.K.” Harry stared at Ron until he gained his breath back and nodded in response.

Harry walked slowly up to the shivering boy sitting in the corner. Neville's eyes were blank and he was whispering softly to himself.

“Not too much water, and the plant will be fine. Yes, yes. Just a little bit. Not too much….” He was rocking back and forth as he scratched his wrist bloody. His arm had been wrapped with gauze just a few hours before, and he had wrenched it off immediately to scrape at the wound again.

“Has he gone mad?” Harry whispered softly to Ron.

“It's possible. You remember his parents.” Ron whispered back.

For a fleeting second, Neville's eyes cleared and he looked up at Harry with widened eyes. “Harry! It's so good to see you!” He smiled at Harry happily.

Ron looked at Harry with eyebrows raised and shrugged whispering, “This is the first thing he's said since the attack.”

They both turned back to Neville and bent over to talk to him better. He had turned around and looked happy to see Harry. But in a moment his eyes darkened and his pupils turned to pinpricks. His smile faded and the blank look returned. Harry put his hand on his troubled friend's shoulder to talk to him when Neville stood up and started to shove at Harry.

“Whoa! Wait up, Nev. It's me, Harry!” Neville smiled beatifically as he tried to grab Harry's head and shove it into the wall. Neville slammed Harry hard against the stone and knocked him roughly against his jaw with a right hook. He was fighting dirty, clawing and kicking as Ron tried to pull him away from his best friend. Harry was yelling and trying to fight back, but the boy was acting like he was demon-possessed. The strikes and hits were ruthless and he would have continued until he'd killed him if Ron hadn't slammed him hard up side the wall striking his head harshly against the stones. Neville crumpled silently to the floor leaving Harry wheezing for breath.

“What the Hell!” Harry exploded.

“You sure bring out the best in people, Harry!” Ron leaned against the wall and tried to stop the flow of blood running into his eyes from a cut just above his left eye.

“That wasn't Neville! There is no way he'd attack me like that!” Harry fumed as Ron dragged the unconscious boy back into the corner where he'd be out of hitting range once he woke up.

Harry stood angrily watching Ron drag his friend through the dirty cell to the corner. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Neville's prone body. Ron looked up and wearily shook his head at him.

“It won't work in here, Harry, The cell has a protection spell…”

Harry could feel the power growing inside him as he began the spell. He whispered a few words to himself then closed his eyes as he focused all his power.

“FINITE INCANTATUM!” He yelled making the walls shudder with the power of his spell.

Neville jerked and started to glow a sickly green. His body started to shudder until all the glowing focused on his wrist. He screamed in agony as his wrist started to bleed profusely and Ron turned and looked worriedly at Harry. Something dark and shadowy appeared just above the imprisoned boy's hand that looked like a spiked bracelet covered in Neville's blood. After a few moments, the bracelet seemed to extricate itself from Neville's arm pulling out needle like spikes from his wrist and it fell clattering onto the ground. Ron grabbed the slightly grubby gauze that had been left on the floor and ran to Neville to stop the streaming blood coming from his wrist.

“Bugger me, Harry! How in Hell did you do magic in here? No one else…” Ron looked up at his friend and saw the power crackling all around Harry like water flowing all over him.

“Thank you Harry…” Neville whispered before fainting once again.

Ron stared at Neville then back at Harry in disbelief.

“How did you know, Harry? No one else could tell…” Ron shook himself imagining the torment Neville must have endured with the cursed bracelet that apparently controlled him.

“I know Neville.” Harry said simply looking more like himself with only the glittering power in his eyes betraying what had just happened.

Neville is NOT Wormtail. You knew it. I knew it. Neville would never betray us.” Harry spoke softly and leaned up against the wall and tried not to fall gibbering onto the floor.

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25. Fading Away

Chapter 25

Fading Away

Harry awkwardly slid down the wall as all the power he'd expended from the spell left him empty and barely able to keep his eyes open. His body ached all over from the punches that Neville had attacked him with and his eyes blankly watched Ron as he scrambled about calling for reinforcements. Other Gryffindors flew quickly to his call and the tattered and unconscious boy was carried out of the cell to be sent to the capable hands of Madame Pomfrey. Ron looked just as wiped out as Harry when he settled himself down beside his friend on the dank dusty floor. Dean and Seamus had arrived in a hurry and looked shocked to see Harry beaten up but didn't say anything, just gathered Neville's things together and got out of their way.

“So. Are you going to tell me how you did that? Is there a reason you can break a magic-dampening spell that no one else can break?” Ron leaned his head back against the cool of the stone and calmly looked back at his weary friend. He tenderly poked an aching jaw and opened and closed his mouth experimentally.

The castle wall softly curved around Harry's form settling him into a more comfortable position that didn't cause his already sore ribs any more pain. Harry smiled a little realizing it was the castle's way of befriending him. Who knew it would react that way to the spell from the past? I guess we did more that just create the Room of Requirement. It looks like we've made a friend of the castle, itself!

Harry just shook his head slightly at his friend's question and shuttered closed his eyes with a sigh. Ron ground his teeth and seethed. Harry was always doing that. Something completely crazy would happen and Harry would shrug and not say anything about it. It's not like they hadn't been friends for ages.

Harry rolled his head against the wall his friend's direction and caught Ron's irritated stare. It just made him even wearier to have to explain it all. Ron never quite got that. He always wanted all the answers after something like this. He fights the most powerful wizard, gets slashed with a knife, a classmate gets killed right in front of him and when he's finally out of danger, Ron wants to sit back with a cuppa and chat about it. Harry just wants to go climb into bed and sleep! Harry finally sighed and stood up with a groan and held his hand out to his friend.

“How `bout a cup o' tea and we talk it over?” Harry grinned.

“Now that's more like it.” Ron smiled widely grasping Harry's arm to pull up.

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Hermione's headache was hammering. She had untied her French braid in hopes that that the looseness would relieve the pressure on her scalp; but nothing seemed to help. Her anger was simmering as her frustration with her studies started to escalate. Looking over the classes that she had missed she actually found she was slightly behind in her studies. She had worked so hard to be ahead and all that effort had been snatched away by the time spell. All that work and special hours spent studying late into the night were for nothing. For once she wasn't going to be the one with the first answer. That little image she had of herself was the class brain. Being first in her class was pretty much an all-consuming ambition. Nobody really knew how much work she put into her studies. She was a naturally talented witch, but spells don't write themselves. Everyone would be watching her and expecting her to know all the answers. The first time Snape asks her a question she didn't know…that was going to be completely humiliating! Who knows? She might have to get tutoring! The thought made her shudder.

“Stupid, sodding time spell!” Gritting her teeth and muttering under her breath she emptied out her straining-at-the-seams ruck sack and rifled through various class books looking for something to get started on that didn't make her want to fling it at the wall. Leaning back, she flipped through her Arithmancy with a growl and started scratching down notes for the chapters she had missed. After an hour or so, however, she found herself mentally drifting having read the same paragraph at least five times without retaining a thing. Something just didn't seem right. Hermione couldn't concentrate and she shifted her shoulders back and forth as everything felt uncomfortable. Her jumper was itchy; her shoes felt too tight, even her eyes felt scratchy like she was coming down with allergies or the start of a bad cold.

With a weary groan she pulled herself off the bed and peeled off her school outfit to shrug into her favorite tattered nightgown. She had gotten it her second year at Hogwarts and it always made her feel special. It was the first real `wizardy' thing she had bought that hadn't really pertained to her schooling. It was soft blue cotton with a couple of cute fluffy baby kittens that liked to roll about and play with the ribbon strings at her neck. They tended to drive her a little crazy when they'd run about when she was trying to sleep, fluttering around her torso and flouncing her skirts in play, but the little nightgown made her feel girly and pretty and she had become fond of the silly kits. Their big round eyes and fluffy fur reminded her of her sweet Crookshanks. It had gotten shorter and thinner over the years and was just the right side of decent in her eyes. Lav and Parvati like to prance about in really skimpy outfits, but even those girls never left the dorm room in anything but virtuous flannel. The boys drooled enough around here.

She sighed softly and rubbed her face and eyes wearily. So much had happened while they were gone. She had missed so much. Her face troubled when she imagined the horror Ron had felt when he found Neville betraying them all. How could Neville have turned into a Death Eater? How!? The thought of her friend tragically turning away from the Light and choosing to work for Voldemort made her want to cry and throw up at the same time.

Her head was still pounding and her wrist had started stinging again. How irritating! After all that time in the past without even a twinge…and I am going to have to pull an all-nighter just to catch up to tomorrow's class in Potions. She hated being behind.

Hermione sat down in the small comfy corner at the window seat and watched the stars slowly peek out as if heralding the approaching winter moon. Blowing softly on the pane of glass it fogged in delicate crystals in which she wrote “HP + HG 4-ever” with a giggle. The letters softly melted away with the heat from the smoldering fire in the grate that warmed the room.

She tried to read a little more, but she just didn't seem to be able to concentrate. There was something niggling at the back of her mind and she absently scratched at her wrist as it delicately started to bleed from the pressure of her fingernails. Her emotions simmered in frustration in her mind until all she could feel was the pounding pressure of the headache throbbing angrily. She leaned her head against the chilled pane of glass and her eyes slowly dilated. Her forehead was creased in confusion, but gradually they smoothed leaving an expression of quiet blankness. She smiled vacantly and scratched and scratched pulling the skin in thin strips with her nails as she never even noticed the drips of blood that were starting to stain her nightdress.

With a soft blink, she nodded to herself as if talking to a friend. “Yes. Yes. I do so love the library. I'll just go then.” She slid off the window seat and started ambling listlessly toward the door when she paused, looked around for a moment as if to collect herself.

“Wait, what was I doing? I was…no…NO! I don't want to go …yes. Yes. The library.” Her face looked horrified for a second then resettled back into the blank stare. Whatever she had been struggling with apparently was put to the side and she continued on her path.

The stone floors were icy, but she didn't even pause for her fluffy kitty slippers or warm dressing gown but slid quietly through the hallway and down the stair to the common room. It was early yet, and several people called to her as she walked past them but she didn't even pause. Lavender thought Hermione was mad at her or something. Hermione was always a little stand-offish anyway. Silly cow.

Hermione slowly exited out the Portrait hole and passed Seamus who made a snarky crack about the whole kitten nightshirt. She didn't say a word or even acknowledge he was there. He had always been a little intimidated by the pretty and brillant girl but he couldn't help but stand back and admire her legs as she strolled past.

Too bad Harry got first crack. Potter could crush me like a bug. Harry's a good bloke, but I wouldn't have minded dating those legs. Hermione sure turned into a pretty girl.

Seamus grinned appreciatively as he watched her leave the hallway and lightly trip down the stairs.

I wonder where she's going dressed like that? I mean, we all dress down in the common room, but geez if a Slytherin catches her in that outfit, she might be in a little trouble. I'd better tell Harry. I don't care if she tries to bite my head off for sending for her boyfriend. I've seen Draco eyeing her enough times to know he'd take whatever advantage he could. His smile turned into a face of puzzled worry as he lost sight of her at the turn of the stair.

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Harry and Ron had walked silently to the infirmary where the Nurse was administering mysteriously smoking potions and murky vials to the unconscious Neville. Snape and the Headmaster were obviously but awkwardly quarrelling over something in front of Madame Pomfrey and were pretending that they weren't. They would say something low under their breaths then smile her direction very unconvincingly. Her lips were pursed tightly closed and she kept flashing angry eyes at the two men standing in the corner where she had forced them to be out of her way. If she could have lit them on fire with her eyes, they would have been mere grease spots on her otherwise immaculate floor. Actually, as a witch she could do that or something equally drastic, and that was why they obligingly kept their distance.

“Leaving the boy in a prison cell! This is not acceptable!...An obvious lack of investigation…look at all the loss of blood!…” She mumbled under her breath while shooting glares at them both. Dumbledore looked abashed while Snape carried a haughty and indifferent face.

“Now, Poppy…how were we to know such a dark device had been…” She cut the older man off with a wave of her hand.

“A sixth year doing a basic spell-ending charm caught it! That's why I am so angry. If you had trusted him as much as Harry did you would have seen…” She stood ramrod straight and stared at them both as if daring them to try to explain.

Snape rolled his eyes and was actually about to apologize when Harry and Ron silently entered the room. The Potion master's eyes snapped narrowly and his mouth closed into a pinch.

“It appears your favorite is here now, Albus. I am apparently useless in the sight of his greatness. I'll just remove myself, shall I?” Snape sneered sarcastically and billowed out of the room in a huff. It was all Harry could do not to whip the scornful man back around and shove his wand in his face. Madame Pomfrey took one look at the two battered boys and rolled her eyes, closing them as she counted to ten. In a few moments she huffed to herself and marched into the office to pull out several potions that would help the battered boys with their more obvious hurts. Ron winced as he tried to smile engagingly at the nurse and with his tongue wiggled a back tooth that had apparently become loose.

Neville's face was bunched up in an expression of pain and weariness that made Harry's heart hurt to see. He knew Neville would never deliberately hurt anyone and he would NEVER turn to Voldemort EVER. The two boys sat down on Harry's usual bed and watched their friend start to thrash about as if he were fighting imaginary demons. Ron stood up to help but was waved away by the nurse who forced a dreamless sleep potion down Neville's throat. He became motionless but his hands were still clenched into fists as he fell back into oblivion.

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Hermione walked slowly down the stairs humming to herself. Her hand touched the wall lightly and she barely felt the chill of the stone. Shadows drifted across the steps as clouds floated past the high castle windows. She opened the towering doors that led to the Hogwarts library and tilted her head as she took in the musty smell of old magic and even older books. Her hands drifted across piles of manuscripts and tomes of learning that puffed up soft clouds of dust settling around her like perfume.

The library was enormous. Three large fireplaces stood on one wall with comfortable but old couches and wingback chairs set in place to maximize seating and warmth. The ceilings went high like a cathedral and the highest shelves were almost unreachable without magic. She danced fancifully as if she was five again and she twirled on her toes remembering ballet classes from her early childhood. Giggling girlishly she tip-toed up to the corner of the shadowy room and paused in front of a narrow but serviceable outer castle door.

Leaning forward she sighed as she examined the door knob and would have continued had someone not stopped her. Draco Malfoy stepped out of the shadows as if a ghost himself. His paleness seemed suited to the moonlight and the malevolence in his face fit the chilliness of the night. Hermione tried to pass by him as if he was just an object in her way, but he grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him.

“Walking alone at night? No Potty Scar-Head around to play hero? Tisk, tisk, Miss Granger. You should know there is evil in the shadows.” He smiled sweetly but there was no kindness behind his eyes. Hermione seemed to come to herself a bit and her eyes cleared to take in the situation. He had pushed her hard up against the wall and was hurting her wrist by twisting it hard. She noticed there was blood and she was afraid.

I don't have my wand! Why am I here? I've never seen his eyes like that before. He looks so…cold. My wrist! It hurts! She started to tremble as he stood so close she could feel his warm breath on her face.

He pulled his wand and ran the tip of it gently across her cheek. She couldn't bear to look at him and she closed her eyes tightly shut.

“Now, now Miss Granger. That's no way to treat at a classmate. I've always looked fondly at you.” He managed to make the statement seem foul and frightening.

“You may be a mudblood, but you definitely have started to show promise this year. And your lovely outfit. I must say, is quite…charming.” His voice was chilling and cruel and her whole body cringed when he pulled her face to him with a harsh hand at her neck.

“Look at me, Mudblood. LOOK AT ME!” He hissed through his teeth right into her ear. She wildly opened her eyes and tried her best not to cry with the pain at her wrist and at her neck.

He sneered as her eyes locked with his. Hermione couldn't stop shaking, but she forced herself to lift her chin and match his eyes with her own. She had one arm captured by his rough hand and the other forced back behind her against the wall. She couldn't do magic without her wand and she couldn't even remember how she got here. No one would know where she was or even that she was missing until the morning. It was completely up to her to somehow survive this. She didn't even want to think about what could happen if she didn't get away.

“Malfoy! Stop it! You have no reason to hurt me! Please, I won't tell anyone…I'll just go back to the dorm and no one will know…” She gasped as she found herself pleading.

“He'll know. He always knows.” Malfoy's eyes dimmed in his own fear and despair.

“We can protect you.” She whispered barely loud enough for him to register her words.

He leaned in closer and she could almost taste the terror in his voice. “You can't even protect yourself, Granger. We all have roles and mine has been chosen for me. The wizard Shakespeare one said, `all the world's a stage, and all the men and women are merely players…' I am apparently the villain here. There's no turning back.” He pulled back and shoved his sleeve up to reveal a pulsing and reddened dark mark.

Hermione gasped when she saw the snake and skull tattoo on her classmate's shoulder. Her eyes darted from his arm to his face in a flash as his expression of pain shuttered and his normal sneer returned.

“Yes. It normally gets that reaction.”

“Malfoy…Draco. Why would you follow Voldemort? All he does is destroy people. Do you really think he's going to win and give you all kingdoms of Muggles to rule or something? He'll kill you all when he's done with you.” She was desperately trying to reach the young man. Surely he wasn't really that far gone. He was an irritating prat sometimes, but not really evil. Not yet.

He sucked in air at the voicing of Voldemort's name and stepped back letting his face bathe in the soft moonlight. His eyes glittered and hopelessness was evident in his face. “Do you think I want this? To be another faceless toady to a man who takes my family's money and belittles and tortures my father? I am a Malfoy!” He pushed her back against the wall and tilted over her to whisper into her ear.

“I am in this for me. No one else. Not my father, Not the Dark Lord. I know darkness. I've been trained to it. It is a power that consumes and commands you. Potter could never stand against the Dark Lord. He is so much more powerful than even you could imagine. No, I'm for Draco, no one else.”

Hermione couldn't help but cringe at the finality of his statement. She knew that without her wand, there was nothing she could do but try to survive.

She took a gasping breath and shoved her knee hard up to catch him unawares, but he sensed her move and ruthlessly blocked her with his body.

“Filthy mudblood!” He shoved her hard against the stone wall and knocked the breath out of her sending her to the floor. She could feel the blood pool around her knees as the rough floor scraped them raw. He grabbed her hair and pulled her back up to face him as he laughed at the fear evident in her face.

“You have nothing to fear from me, mudblood. But my Lord has a few ideas for you that I would be very much afraid of. You won't die right away, but you will wish you had. I have only been to one Dark Revel when I received my Dark Mark, but believe me, Mudblood, you have much to fear.” He slammed her roughly against the wall making her head swim in pain and stars cloud her vision.

I need help! Please someone help me! She screamed inside her head. Her hands slid down the wall slicked with her own blood and she heard someone whimper, slowly realizing it was her own voice.

She could hear Malfoy walking softly to pick up his wand that she had knocked from his hand in the scuffle. He started to laugh low in his throat, almost like a growl.

“I can't wait to see Scarhead's face when he realizes it was me who took you to the Dark Lord.” He laughed again at his own cleverness.

Her breath was racing and she knew if he ever got her out of the castle she would be dead. “I can't leave the castle. I can't leave. Please, someone help me!” She whispered desperately as she clung to the wall.

Suddenly the stone started to warm. Hermione could begin to feel the roughness soften and her fingers could push through the hard rock like it was dipping into clay. A sudden sob racked her body as she understood what was happening. She leaned her whole body against the wall and quickly looked back at her assailant. He had picked up his wand and was pointing it toward her as he was considering which spell to cast. The wall shimmered and it became as soft as butter then clear as water. With a cry, she fell through the wall to disappear. Malfoy growled then slammed against the wall in anger. The stones had solidified leaving him alone in the empty room with only dark shadows and a stain of blood against the wall.

7

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26. Lost

Lost

Voldemort

The Dark Lord was angry. Nott had completely disregarded his intentions with the students. The idiot man had almost destroyed whatever chance there was to retrieve the prophecy after his bumbling attempts to control the Longbottom boy. Voldemort steepled his fingers reflectively and considered the situation logically. There was still another.

Apparently the mudblood wench was fancied by the Potter brat as well. The situation could possibly be salvaged after all. He had directed Malfoy's irritatingly shrill whelp to deal with the witch this evening. By first light, he would have the girl and the prophecy in hand. If Potter neglected to tell her what the Seer had said, Potter could expect to find his `girlfriend' in a much more disagreeable state. Dead actually.

Tom Riddle snorted to himself enjoying his own humor. He quieted to set his face back into the impassive visage the figures that waited in the shadows had come to expect.

It had become more difficult to control his followers when they were led by such imbeciles as Nott and Malfoy. Such sycophantic lap dogs. They had lost their fire and were now only led around by their base desires and dark hungers.

Voldemort frowned to himself. They didn't understand anymore. The impurity had to be expunged. Potter had mocked him once telling everyone that he was a half-blood. His eyes narrowed in anger; red slits and sparking dangerously. All the Muggle had been exactingly purged from his soul. He was now Pure. The dark magics he had performed and sinister atrocities committed to expunge the taint of Muggle blood made him shiver delicately. His soul was divided, but no one could ever see him and think him merely human ever again. He held himself more erect and petted the silently watchful snake at his left that slithered quietly closer as it's dryly rasping skin brushed against the floor. Voldemort smiled mirthlessly. Yes. Yes. He was completely in Control.

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At Hogwarts

Seamus had fallen asleep on the couch and his soft whuffing snore alerted Harry and Ron to his presence as they wearily trudged through the Fat Lady's portrait. Neville had finally dropped into an undisturbed sleep and they had turned to Healer Pomfrey who luckily fixed their worst bruises. Shuffling in tiredly through the common room, they couldn't help but grin at each other when they saw their friend on the couch and with a mutual nod they sat at the head and foot of the dilapidated sofa. Trying to repress their sniggering they pulled off his shoes and transfigured them into goose feathers with which they proceeded to tickle him just enough to make him squirm but not wake up.

“Umm. No. Wait! Hermione...great legs…there's no Potter here, now, my sweetums…” Seamus mumbled in his sleep making Harry frown and Ron try to hold in his laughter without tipping completely over.

Harry transfigured his feather into a small canister of shaving cream and a straight razor then proceeded to cover the unsuspecting sleeper's head with the foam while preparing to shave his head with a maniacal gleam in his eye that would make Fred and George proud. Ron couldn't help but snort making himself fall off the couch with a loud thud that did finally wake the boy up from his sleep.

“Whuuzit…Whoosipit..Harry?” Seamus scratched his head pulling back a handful of foam. The glitter in Harry's eye brought him even more awake and Ron rolling in laughter on the floor made him look at them both as if they had gone round the bend.

“You are SO lucky, mate. Harry was about to make you the Shiny Snitch-head from Gryffindor Tower if you hadn't woken up. Actually with whatever you were dreaming about his girlfriend…” Ron paused significantly.

Seamus' eyes grew wide and he faced the territorial glint of his bunkmate with not a little fear. He scooted quickly off the couch and fell hard to the floor with a grunt.

“Don't go mental, mate. He can't control who he dreams about. I've had odd dreams about Hermione before, too.” Ron smirked then pulled back his hands in a defensive gesture when he saw Harry's eyes narrow.

“Hey! I'm a young and virile sixteen-year-old male! Get over it! I'd pretty much dream about Winky at this stage. Now, your girlfriend, she does have some great legs! And she's got that cute dimple…” Ron laughed and jumped out of the way of the oncoming blur that was Harry Potter trying to throw Ron to the ground. With a grin, Ron charmed his feather into a dozen more that proceeded to mercilessly attack the boy-who-lived.

“Hey! Stop!..No..not up the nose…” Harry couldn't help but laugh as he curled into a ball to protect his face from the pitiless feather barrage. Harry closed his eyes and focused hard, and within a moment all the feathers burst into brilliant blue flame and turned into ash with a pop.

“That was unexpected.” Ron raised his eyebrow and looked questioningly at the confused Seamus who couldn't seem to pick up his jaw.

“You didn't say anything for that spell.” Seamus dumbly pointed out the obvious.

Harry stretched out on the floor and crossed his ankles and shoved his arms under his head to prop himself up.

“Thanks, Seamus for that brilliant observation.” Ron rolled his eyes and looked pointedly at his friend.

“Learn some new tricks on your `mission', did you?” Ron said lightly but he couldn't hide the real amazement in his voice. Harry grinned up at his friend and just shrugged.

“Let's just say that I've worked through a few ideas lately. It's easier with the wand, but that's just to give you focus, anyway. You should have signed up for Arithmancy Ron. It's a brilliant class.” Harry yawned widely and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“I think you spend too much time with the Homework Queen as it is. Now you are starting to talk like her! Hermione has got you completely whipped, boyo. What will a bloke do for a pretty face…” Ron threw the threadbare couch pillow at Harry's head which Harry snatched out of the air and stuffed under his head with a grin.

Seamus slapped his forehead and groaned. “I forgot to tell you, Harry. Hermione was walking out of the tower late this evening and something seemed a little odd about her. She was wearing the skimpiest outfit,” Seamus grinned wolfishly then swallowed the grin at the expression on Harry's face; “and she seemed in a daze of sorts. I tried to talk to her, but she just walked on without a word. No shoes, no wrap and a nightgown that stopped, well. I'd have to say you normally wouldn't expect something like that on our `Homework Queen'.” He leaned over to Ron and wiggled his eyebrows. Ron snorted in response.

“Actually, the thing that most caught my attention was her wrist. She had scratched it bloody and had stained the side of her nightgown pretty badly. It was dripping down her arm and she smiled like everything was sunshine and butterbeer. Kinda wibbly, if you ask me. I just thought, you know, since you're the boyfriend…” Seamus rolled back onto the couch and missed the alarmed look that passed between the two other boys.

Ron was first to grab the boy and pull him back up from the couch with Harry rushing just behind him.

“Hey! I didn't mean to dream about her, really! It wasn't my fault!” He squirmed around trying to see what prank the boys were trying to get him with.

“Which way did she go, Seamus! She's in trouble! Are you sure it was her wrist? There's no telling how long she's had that device…How could we have missed it!” Harry angrily ran his hands through his hair and started to pace thinking furiously.

“It must have been the Hogsmede Attack. They were both stunned by a spell at the same time…they must have focused on Neville first…maybe they couldn't reach her while you both were away.” Ron sat down heavily next to a very confused Seamus who gaped openly at the odd conversation.

“I think she said she was to the library. I dinna think mun aboot it.” Seamus' brogue thickened with worry as he saw the concern on both of their faces.

“Don't worry, Mate. You go check her dorm, Ron and see if maybe she's in her bed and fine. Maybe she's alright after all.” Harry face had blanched with worry and his eyes were growing brighter and starting to crackle with magic. Ron nodded and flew to the stairs yelling for Ginny. He was back in moments with worry obvious on his face.

“She's gone.” Ron said bleakly and without another word, the two friends ran out the door.

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Hermione

Hermione was gasping for air. The sobs had finally abated, but she just couldn't seem to calm herself down. The terror she had felt was slowly fading, but the leftover adrenaline swept racking tremors up and down her body and she had succumbed to the emotional release of a really good cry.

Finding herself in a small dusty tower room she looked down from a tiny crenulated window from which she could just barely see the tops of the Herbology building by the fading moonlight. It was confusing to discover herself in a tower, when she had just come down three flights of stair to the ground level just minutes before. The castle had taken her to a room she had never seen before and with apparently no way out. The ancient but solidly carved wooden door was locked from the outside and no one came to let her out when she had banged and yelled. It took her a while to get up the nerve to even do that when she imagined Malfoy somehow finding her. After considering that horrible idea, she reasoned that the castle wouldn't take her away from him only to lead him back to her after all. It was all pointless, anyway. No one heard her and obviously no one was coming.

She wiped her eyes and stood swaying in front of the window. Her heart was slowly getting back to normal and the stickiness and pain of her bloody knees and wrist was aching horribly. There was nothing much in the room except an antique baroque bed with truly tacky cherubs carved into the headboard and on the posters. An ancient and tattered silk swag collected dust on top of the four posts and even though she was vaguely concerned about what might have been nesting in the bedding, she sat on it gratefully. There were no paintings in the room that she could send out for help, and the only other thing in the sparse room was a rickety old spinning wheel covered in cobwebs. She could see the pile of fleece next to the wheel had been used once as a bed for untold generations of mice and she pulled her feet up underneath her just to be sure nothing scurried too close to her toes.

Hermione sighed softly to herself. Why had she gone downstairs in the first place? It had been almost like she had been sleep-walking. A voice in her head had been whispering softly over and over for her to go. It had sounded so sweet and tender, and then suddenly, it wasn't tender at all. The voice became desperately evil and the taint of it made her whole body shudder in rejection. Even though she had wanted to scream, she found she couldn't. Her body refused to be her own and as much as she wanted to run to Harry, she felt the essence of herself fade into the background as somehow someone else's voice was sweetly commanding. “Go to the library,” it had said. Hermione shook her head to dispel the lingering fog that had enveloped her as the voice tried to call to her again.

“No!” She wailed and shoved her face into her knees focusing on the pain to keep the voice from beguiling her again. She breathed hard and fast and focused her mind as hard as she could on the clear image of herself in control. She sat up ramrod straight, squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lower lip in concentration. The voice receded slowly away leaving her panting slightly in her mental exertion.

A slow tear trickled down her cheek and she brushed it away angrily. No one had the right to do that. No one controls me but ME. She stood up and wandered around the room looking for something of use. What ever this room had been used for before it had been ravaged by time and apparently also the whole castle's vermin population. A small black silvered mirror alerted her to her rather frantic appearance and she uselessly tried to brush the dirt from her face.

The moon had set and Hermione finally gave in and crawled into the dusty bed curling into an exhausted ball. Tomorrow. She'll get someone's attention tomorrow. She'll yell out the window or maybe climb down the tall sloping roof. Yes. Tomorrow. She sighed tiredly and faded off into a worried sleep filled with frightening voices and images of too much blood.

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Harry and Ron

They had looked everywhere. Harry and Ron had alerted their Head of House, and Professor McGonagall had woken up the teaching staff and all the prefects who were currently combing the grounds for the wayward girl.

Harry looked out the darkened window to desperately watch the tiny points of wand-light crawl across the grounds. Few were left still looking outside and he despaired when he watched the last wand flicker out. The grounds were empty. The Ravenclaw Prefect, Terry Boot had found the blood at the front of the library and he had stepped back almost in fear when he saw Harry's green eyes almost blacken in flashing power and anger. Everyone had rushed to the spot but there was no sign of Hermione.

Harry's face whitened when he saw the blood. There wasn't really a lot of it but there was enough. The streaks of her hand prints showed she was trying to get away from something. Harry closed his eyes and angrily wiped away a stray tear. He had no time for that. She could be hurt.

A startling thought entered his mind and he grabbed against Ron in disbelief of his stupidity. “Accio marauder's map!” He yelled startling Professor Flitwick and nearly knocking the tiny man's hat off with his wand movements.

Within moments the map flapped furiously into Harry and Ron peeled it off his friend's face as he scrambled to open it.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” Harry tapped the parchment then quickly ruffled it open. They scanned across the pages and even turned it over looking for the tiny dot that indicated Hermione Granger. There was nothing.

“Where is SHE!?” Harry yelled angrily throwing the map to the floor.

“Not everything in this castle can be seen by your very excellent map, my boy. Only things that were known by your, ahem….friends?...Mssrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.” Dumbledore had approached the seething boy and had picked up the map and was inspecting it curiously.

Ron sighed as he realized they'd probably never see that map again. “He's right, Harry. When you make a magical map, the spell can only show what you know since you are essentially writing the map.” Harry looked shattered and rubbed his hands tiredly across his face.

“There are rooms upon rooms in this old castle that even I have never seen. It looks like we should make a floor by floor search and open any possible door, cabinet or drawer. This is an odd castle, of course. Who knows? Maybe she's climbed into a wardrobe or something? I can try and SEE if you would like me to, Mr. Potter.” Sybil Trelawny had floated down from her perch in her tower room and had come to see what all the trouble was about.

Harry shut his eyes tightly and forced himself not to hex the bumbling old witch. She meant well, but she was bloody useless. Harry had to admit that right at this moment he was just as useless as well. He stared at the slowly drying blood and he could feel his heart race as he imagined his beautiful Hermione in pain somewhere calling for him. Harry swallowed slowly and forced his mind back on the situation. Ron was carefully watching him hoping for some brilliant idea to come up that they could use to save their best friend. However, it was usually Hermione that did most of the “brilliant plan” things now that he thought of it.

Harry leaned against the cold stone wall and pushed his head back in despair. One after the other, the prefects would stumble in and announce their lack of information about the girl then be sent back to their dorms. Harry's head ached and his body was still sore even after the ministrations of Madame Pomfrey. He rubbed his temples with his thumbs and tried to force himself to think. The ache grew stronger until the pain of it knocked him to his knees. In seconds, Harry could feel the malevolent familiarity of Voldemort's anger wash over him through the pain.

“He's so angry!” Harry hissed through his teeth to Dumbledore who had followed the boy to his knees in concern as he gripped the young man tightly with his hands grasping his shoulders. Harry forced himself to look up into Dumbledore's eyes so the Headmaster could possibly see something that Harry couldn't. The old man understood his silent plea and focused hard on Harry's face making Harry flinch as he felt the wizard's power hit him full force. Harry felt something slowly well up inside him that unexpectedly threatened to spill over. Harry's eyes grew wide and his mouth tried to verbalize a warning when the two kneeling figures were suddenly and painfully thrust apart. Harry staggered against Ron who caught him with a grunt. The headmaster however had collapsed to the ground and the two boys rushed to his side.

“Angry…so angry…he was controlling her…he sent one to her…he was going to torture her for the prophecy.” Dumbledore gasped in pain and grabbed his head wincing.

Harry's face was desperate as he willed the old wizard to remember what he could not. Dumbledore grimaced as Ron leaned in to help the old man back to his feet. Ron couldn't help but snort at the fancifully mismatched socks on the Headmaster's feet.

Dumbledore's joints popped and he smiled wryly at the sound of his aching bones. The smile faded quickly when his body froze as he remembered one last thing from his brief voyage into Harry's mind.

The Headmaster turned and faced Harry and Ron with the most serious face they had ever seen on the usually jovial old man. His hands shook as they took Harry and Ron both at the shoulders and gripped them quite strongly.

“You must promise. There can be no more of my students' bloodshed from this.” Dumbledore looked older than he had ever been before. His voice quivered in pain and worry as he saw the faces of two of his favourites harden in expectation.

“Who did you see try to hurt her, Sir? Who was it!?” Harry's voice was low and menacing as his eyes narrowed.

Dumbledore looked around to Professor Flitwick, Professor Trelawny and Professor McGonagall who had just joined them. His eyes lowered in reluctance but he forced himself to face Harry who was clenching and unclenching his fists in controlled fury.

“Draco Malfoy.” Dumbledore's face had hardened. I have lost another to Evil.

Ron let loose an epithet that made his head of house gasp. Harry merely pivoted in place without a word and flew down the hallway. Ron hastily apologized then flung himself into a full out run to catch him.

Dumbledore unabashedly stood as tears rolled down his face. He was mourning. So many of his children had fallen away. He was feeling every year of his one hundred and sixty- one years. Professor McGonagall silently held him up and allowed him to rest against her.

“Have I done so badly, Min?” He looked down at her with his cheeks flushed and wet from fallen tears.

“No, Albus. You haven't done badly at all.” The staid Professor looked up at the old wizard and her eyes mirrored his as tears fell from hers as well.

“So many children…lost. I could have helped them if I had only seen…” Albus's eyes were far away in remembrance.

“You do know you have a bit of a saving-people thing?” the normally stark professor's eyes softened and she bit her lip in worry when he didn't respond.

Together they sighed with the weight of the lives and choices made under their leadership and they slowly walked back to his office to await the coming morning.

8

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27. Power and Vengeance

Author's notes: alright. So Joseph Schuler is completely right. I hate it when that happens. Crenellated windows? What was I thinking? Crenellated: to make something with square indentations like the openings (crenels) of a battlement. Goofy description for a window, I guess. I was thinking more scallopy. Well. You get the brownie points, Joseph. Thanks for the nice way of telling me I was a little odd.

Disclaimer….I own nothing that belongs to the Great and Mighty JKR.

Chapter 27

Power and Vengeance

Malfoy was furiously throwing clothes into his trunk as quickly as possible, knocking down a rather gaudy lamp in the process. His wand swished wordlessly and the brass handled luggage snapped closed with a click. Grimly he examined the room he had lived in for most of the last few years and found little that felt familiar any longer. Childish things like his exploding snap game or even the tattered remains of his first school broom made him feel nothing. His life was over here.

With a flick, he magicked his trunk small enough to fit in his pocket and turned to exit the room for the last time. No one knew he was leaving; therefore there was no one to say good-bye to. Escaping was more to the fact of the matter. When the Dark Lord found he had failed in his task and his bungling tipped the Dumbledore crowd to Voldemort's plans he was sure to be dead by nightfall. But there was no way he was going to stand around and be a stationary target. Somehow he had contrived to be hated by both sides.

A rattling thud drew his attention to the common room and he cautiously peered out his doorway to see what the commotion was about. Draco's face drained white when he caught sight of Harry Potter knocking Blaise Zambini out of the way with little more than a look. Harry Potter looked angry. Very angry.

Draco could barely see around the corner and watched as Harry stalked toward Pansy Parkinson. She had just slammed a painful reductor curse at the boy's head missing by an inch. The Gryffindor walked faster and the power swirling around him forced the glaring girl to back up to the wall with Harry coming inches away from her face.

“I don't know anything about Granger! You can't just come into our House and hex everyone! If you want to hex Draco go ahead, but leave me out of it!” She defiantly threw her nose in the air but Harry could see her shoulders shaking violently in fear. His eyes narrowed as he remembered all the hateful words to come from the now very frightened girl. He reached very slowly and deliberately and removed her wand from her hand.

“I'd leave now, if I were you.” Harry hissed softly through his teeth.

She turned and fled.

Several groans sounded from the floor letting Draco know there had been at least a few who had tried to defend the Slytherin sanctuary. He could just make out the feet of Crabbe next to the couch.

Whispering a disillusionment charm Draco faded into invisibility. Sticking close to the walls he snaked around the corner and soundlessly made for the door. Getting through them wasn't going to be much of a problem since Potter had basically melted them to the ground. Malfoy winced when he stepped on Goyle's hand making the unconscious boy groan and caused Harry to turn his direction. Harry's eyes narrowed and his whole body began to glow in anger. Draco could feel the disillusionment charm break as the feeling of water over his skin made him shiver.

“Well. It seems that the system of code entry words has fallen a bit. It isn't everyday one sees a Gryffindor in the Slytherin Common Room. And messing up the place as well, it appears.” Draco hid his fear behind half-lidded eyes and his customary sneer.

Ron burst into the room and gasped when he saw the destruction obviously perpetrated by his friend. When he saw Draco Malfoy he purposely pulled his wand out and tilted his head as if taking his time choosing which curse to use.

“Ah. And you've brought your red-headed girlfriend as well. How cosy. Apparently you should feel welcome, Weasel. Potty certainly has.” Draco's hands shook slightly so he pushed them lazily into his pockets as he leaned casually against the wall.

“Where. Is. She.” Harry hissed through his teeth.

Draco's eyes skirted from Ron back to Harry and said nothing. Ron stepped forward and Malfoy found himself neatly cornered by the two boys. The look of hatred in Harry's eyes made the Slytherin pause. He didn't think Potter would kill him, but the blighted Gryffindor had been in so many fights with other Death Eaters, it may not give him much of a bother any more.

“I didn't kill her.” Malfoy whispered softly.

“There was blood.” Ron stated emotionlessly.

“The stupid girl had cut herself already or else the wrist device had become activated. Either way I did nothing. She was alive the last time I saw her.” Draco spat out in a snarl.

Harry lunged at the blond boy and knocked him hard onto the ground grinding his knee into the panting and wild-eyed boy's chest. Draco tried to roll out from under him, but Harry's wand caught him flat under his chin forcing him to still. Draco looked around furiously but there wasn't a Slytherin in sight. Typical. Scattered like rats.

“We all have roles to play, Potter. Some were set into motion before either of us were born. How different would our lives have been if you had only shaken my hand the first day?” Draco smiled mirthlessly.

Harry didn't say a word. He just stared into Draco's eyes until the boy nervously looked away.

“Look at me!” Harry bit out. Draco's eyes caught his and he blinked when he witnessed the power glowing within the boy's green orbs.

“Legimens!” Harry shouted as he pointed his wand mercilessly at the Slytherin's temple. Jumbled images knocked Harry's head back but he fought the pain and forced himself to stare into the other boy's eyes. Scenes flashed by of Malfoy in various rooms and conversations until it slowed as the moment in front of the library came into focus. Harry watched unblinkingly at the memory of Draco shoving Hermione to her knees and knocking her against the wall. He stared amazed when he saw Hermione slip through the wall to disappear into nothingness. His hand shaking, he slowly pulled the wand away from the still form of Malfoy who had apparently passed out from the power of the spell.

Ron grabbed Harry's shoulder pulling him upright to face him. “What happened? What did you see? Where is she?”

“She just disappeared.” Harry looked wide-eyed at Ron in confusion. “It looked like she just walked through the wall. I don't know if Voldemort has her or not.”

Ron cast ropes around the passed out form of Draco and levitated him up so they could take him to a more secure location. Ron knew just the vacant cell to use.

“Draco doesn't know much of anything. He was part of it, though.” Harry reached over and ripped the shoulder from the sleeping boy's robe tearing the shirt beneath as well to reveal the shadowy tattoo of Voldemort. Ron sucked in breath when he saw the proof of Draco's betrayal.

“He said he didn't have a choice.” Harry stared bemused at the tightly tied form in front of him.

Ron glanced at Harry and watched him deflate from the powerful angry wizard just moments before into a tired teenager who appeared confused and insecure. Slowly Harry turned away from Draco and peered up through his glasses to tiredly blink at his best friend.

Ron smiled wanly then frowned as he stared at Draco. “He had a choice. He just wasn't willing to pay the price for it. You are one who knows, Harry. Your parents paid. Dearly. To choose what's right can cost a man. Draco just doesn't understand that Good is really worth it.”

Harry's eyes teared up and they both breathed deeply to keep themselves from bawling like little girls. “Let's get him put away. We have some Hermione searching to do.” Ron took hold of Malfoy's floating head and shoved it through what remained of the door.

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Hermione woke to find a platter of breakfast foods piled high on the side table next to her rumpled and rather dusty bed. She stretched and winced at the pain in her knees as the scabs cracked with the movement. A pitcher of water in a large bowl that reminded her of her Gran was wafting up steam and she scrambled out of the bed and gratefully dipped the cloth sitting beside it into the deliciously warm water. It took a while, but she finally felt normal again after attacking the dirt on her face, her wrist and her scabby knees. Her wrist was aching horribly still, and she still couldn't remember scratching it so deliberately. The thought of losing so much time made her shiver. She felt better being at least somewhat clean, and she sighed missing the luxury of the Prefect's bath. Nothing much could be done with her hair, so she braided it and tied it off with a bit of tapestry string she pulled from a very old and dilapidated wall-hanging.

She stared at herself in the tiny mirror above the washstand and mentally reprimanded herself for even considering leaving their dorm in such a skimpy nightgown. The thin material had split under one arm and the revealing tear crossed her chest leaving little to the imagination. She grimaced at her reflection and sighed.

“It was absolutely brilliant to leave your wand back in the dorm. What a first-year thing to do! I can't even scourgify and reparo this silly thing.” She muttered lightly to herself. Suddenly the wind around her body picked up and her nightdress fluttered with the power of a spell that left her garment clean and patched to perfection. Even the tiny kittens on the front of her gown started to lick and clean themselves. Her mouth dropped open in surprise and she stumbled back and landed on her backside luckily on the old bed.

She started to laugh. “Brilliant, lovely castle! Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts indeed!” She hopped up and twirled on her toes hugging her arms close when she realized what this truly meant. She didn't need her wand. Or at least not here. Not at Hogwarts it seemed. Apparently her connection to the ancient site was amazingly bolstered by the spell that created the Room of Requirement. Or was it just this room? No, the walls disappeared to help me escape. “I wish I could research this. I wonder if this has ever happened before? Such an increase of power or is it just an increase of focus?” She mumbled to herself with fingers itching to open a book.

“I can get out of here!” She grinned to herself in the mirror and made a silly face. She approached the door and raised her hand. Then lowered it. Then raised it again. Shaking her head ruefully she rolled her eyes in self-derision. I'm a bit unused to working without the wand. This is going to take a while to get used to.

“Alohamora!” She said forcefully staring at the door handle. Nothing happened. Apparently she hadn't focused hard enough. Scrinching up her eyebrows she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

“Alohamora!” This time a little more emphatically. Still the lock held.

She grabbed the antiquated door knob and shoved against it as hard as she could. Nothing. “I want OUT!” She screamed at the door as loudly as she could. Suddenly, the door shimmered and chains slithered up and around the door like ivy on a trellis. Several padlocks appeared and a heavy stone block appeared jamming the entrance completely.

“So I'll just stay, shall I?” Hermione sarcastically sneered in the door's direction. She felt suddenly exhausted and she forced herself to sit down quickly on the bed. The spells she had cast without her wand had sapped all her strength away.

Bollocks! I am going to die of old age here in this sodding tower! She gripped her hands on the edge of the bed in anger and frustration managing to slightly tear the aging fabric. She stood up wobblily and walked to the window. The day had come bright and chilly, and the window pane glistened with morning frost. Examining the glass she could see it had been charmed to withstand breakage beyond anything she could manage. She could throw a chair at it and it would merely bounce back. Her options limiting by the minute, Hermione gritted her teeth and found herself almost growling in frustration.

With a sigh, she glanced over at the now cooling plate of croissants and softened butter and shrugged her shoulders in defeat. She scrambled back onto the coverlet and dug her feet into the warmth while taking a handful of sweet buttery bread. The House Elves are brilliant at breakfast, she thought.

House Elves! She nearly spat her breakfast down her nightshirt trying to scream out Dobby's name.

“Dobby!” She shouted excitedly.

With an explosive pop, a startled little Elf appeared just to the side of the aging bed. His eyes widened and he squeaked loudly when he saw the girl.

“Master Harry's Hermmi-nee!” Hermione jumped up and bounced off the bed to whirl the surprised Elf around in a circle.

“Miss Hermmi-nee, Miss Herrrmmmi-Neee!” He squealed now more afraid from her picking him up and twirling them both.

“Dobby, you are my favorite Elf! Help me get out of here!” He had wobbled a little when she had set him back down and his eyes were even wider than usual when he realized he would be saving “Master Harry's girl”.

His smile grew wide and he reached out with his hand to take hers. She smiled back and curtsied to Dobby's blushing embarrassment.

“Dobby will rescue Master's Hermmi-Nee!” He squeezed his eyes shut and holding her hand, he vanished, then reappeared again moments later.

“You not go with Dobby?” The small Elf looked confused and held out his hand again for the startled girl to take. He squinched up his eyes and disappeared with a pop. Hermione was left again until he reappeared again.

This time he found Hermione sitting back on the bed with her chin in her hand and a storm cloud look on her face. Dobby tiptoed back to the angry girl and blinked up at her. “ Dobby tried…”

“Oh, Dobby. It's not your fault. It's this silly old castle. It thinks I am still in danger so it won't let me out. I tried to magick the door open, and it grew chain vines. The window won't break and I'm running out of ideas.” She huffed in frustration.

Dobby's mouth fell open and he stared widely at the flustered girl. He stepped back quickly and stammered in fear. “The castle wo…wo..won't let you go? Hogwarts very powerful place. Elves talk to Hogwarts. Hogwarts loves us, and now loves Hermmi-Nee! Special bond, Hogwarts gives! Special Magics! Better not make castle mad! Hermmi-Nee safe here. Castle keeps Master Harry's Hermmi-Nee safe and sound.”

Dobby backed up a space then disappeared with a sudden pop leaving a sputtering girl behind.

”Dobby!” She waited but there was no answer.

“Dobby! You better get up here!” She was fuming by this time.

“Dobby! I will tell Harry you left me here to rot!”

He appeared with a sudden pop and wringing his hands. He looked around quickly and waved his hands in an abrupt gesture. The bed suddenly freshened and the fabrics looked immediately brand new. The walls shimmered and all stains and scuffs disappeared. A desk materialized with a small shelf of books stacked with pieces of parchment and a quill. With a last look around Dobby glanced at the angry face of Hermione then looked away quickly.

“Hogwarts knows best! Dobby tells Master Harry his Hermmi-Nee safe. Hogwarts knows best.” He nodded his head as if agreeing with himself then with a final wave, he disappeared. Just as he popped away, a yelp sounded and Crookshanks appeared on the bed in a rolling mass of fitzing fur and growls.

“Crooks!” She gathered the greatly perturbed cat in a hug and brushed down his startled fur. Hermione snuggled her face into his scrunched up one and got a lick on her nose for the effort.

Hermione scanned the new additions to her room noting the new bedding and examined the new desk with several books and a very large quill that was so large it looked like it came from Buckbeak.

“Well, Crooks, it looks like our options are limited here. We can either write a scathing letter to someone, or take a nap.” Crookshanks nodded wisely and jumped down from her arms, sauntered purposely to the bed, circling twice and settled down comfortably. Hermione snorted and ruffled the cat's fur. She turned wearily away and sat at the desk breaking out the stiff-leather bound books finding of course, Hogwarts, A History. She shrugged, and leaned back in the chair and opened it randomly. Tapping her quill against the table she began to read as she absently started to scratch at her wrist.

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Several of the D.A. were waiting outside the Slytherin common room expectantly. Harry acknowledged them all with a grim nod as he watched Ron shove the levitating Malfoy up the stairs. Luna, Seamus, Dean and Ginny were all standing nervously with their eyes flicking every so often to the ruin of the Slytherin Room and apparent destruction of their door.

“Malfoy didn't know anything. We still don't know where she is.” Harry spoke low running his hand tiredly through his hair. He leaned stiffly against the stone wall and looked to his friends for guidance. Luna was staring at the room before them and playing with her bottlecap necklace.

” Maybe you need to talk to Neville. He might remember something.” Dean mumbled trying not to look Harry in the eye. He knew Harry was powerful, but the display of anger had frightened him.

The look of fear in Dean's eyes cut Harry to the quick. Groans of pain were sounding from the ransacked room and Harry winced when his friends wouldn't look him in the eye. Maybe he had gone a little far, but that was what was expected of him, wasn't it? Didn't the whole wizarding world somehow expect the great Harry Potter to save them all? How did they expect him to accomplish that without things getting a little messy sometimes? Do they expect him to just tiptoe up to Voldemort and whisper Boo? Harry closed his eyes and released a deep breath.

When he opened them, Luna was inches away from his face. “Just checking for Wingles. Sometimes they attach themselves to the eyes of warriors after a battle and cause them blindness.” She continued to stare until Harry rolled his eyes and shoved away from the wall. He hunched his shoulders and turned down the hall when he saw Seamus take a step back in fear.

“Neville, then.” Harry mumbled and fled down the hall.

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Neville Longbottom was still sleeping having taken the dreamless sleep potion from Madame Pomfrey. Harry pulled a chair away from the corner and sat right next to the bed. Neville would jerk soundlessly opening his mouth to sound a refusal; his head rolling back and forth to deny something he feared in his dreams. Harry watched the boy and hurt with him. How many dreams had Harry endured just like this? A cloth and a small pitcher of water was on a table near the bed, so he wet the cloth and gently wiped the boy's forehead. It seemed to soothe him somewhat, and he settled back against the pillows and seemed to rest. Slowly, his eyes opened and Harry watched the tired and bruised boy carefully.

“Harry.” Neville smiled as if the act exhausted him.

“Nev.”

“Thank you for helping me, for trusting me. I could see you and everyone else and I could hear what was going on, but I couldn't stop my body from attacking you and Ron. The voice forced me away. I was screaming inside, but no one noticed.” Neville's eyes were hollow with remembrance. His body shivered and he pulled up on the covers to gain some warmth.

“Nev, the device on your wrist…” Harry left the question open.

“It was controlling me. They must have spelled me at the Hogsmede attack. I can't even remember being hit, to tell you the truth. I just remember Hermione falling from a hex and I rushed over there only to be knocked out moments later. We both laughed about it later…” Neville looked up at Harry.

“Hermione's wrist…!” Neville started to jump up from the bed until Harry forced him back down.

“What are you doing? You don't understand! She's in trouble! The Voice will have her too! I saw her wrist. It was just like mine, but it didn't bother her as much. Maybe she can fight it, maybe she…” Harry had to push the boy back into the bed even as Neville tried to escape.

“I know! I know! We are trying to find her! We have to know what you can remember! She's gone missing and nobody knows where she is! Neville, I need you to stop and try to remember anything about it that can help us find her! Neville, STOP!” Harry's voice finally broke through to Neville and he stopped pushing against him panting heavily.

“Right. Right, sorry. She's missing? What happened?” Neville looked about wildly grasping at the sheets and running his hands through his hair anxiously.

“Apparently the device on your arm was on hers as well. Seamus saw her going to the library, and we found out she had been led there to meet with Draco Malfoy to some end. We don't know where he was taking her, but we found blood and his memory of her disappearing in front of him. That's all we know. She's gone, Nev. She's gone.” Harry slumped in the chair in despair.

“Does Voldemort have her?” Neville whispered fearfully.

Harry didn't answer and the silence in the room became unbearable until Harry broke it and began to pace the floor.

“Do you remember anything?” Harry flung the words at Neville as if daring him to reply.

“Flashes. I saw an old house. I remember a vision of this horrible snake man with eyes that looked like blood. I remember hitting you.” Neville spoke haltingly as the memories flitted behind his eyelids.

“Voldemort.” Harry grimly stopped pacing and stared out the window at the dawning light.

“I've never seen him. I didn't know what he looked like.” Neville whispered.

Harry sat back down heavily on the chair next to the bed. His hands were shaking and his eyes were burning from lack of sleep and trying to hold tears at bay.

“You know, Neville? You and I have a lot in common. We both have birthdays in July.” Harry spoke quietly as Neville looked at his friend in confusion. What was he talking about birthdays for?

“It could have been you, Nev. It was a flip of a coin. One stupid choice separated our fates.” Neville was staring at Harry as he spoke softly almost as if he was talking to himself.

“There was a prophecy, Nev. The prophecy said a boy born in the end of the seventh month to those who thwarted Voldemort three times. It said the boy would be the one with the power to vanquish him and that the dark lord would mark him as an equal. Well, Voldemort heard part of it, and that part nearly killed us both. The prophecy said the boy would have a power the dark lord wouldn't know about. He chose me for some reason. It could have been you. You could have been the boy-who-lived and I could have just been some kid with funny hair and bad eyes.”

Harry sat up straighter and looked over at a stunned Neville. “The prophecy says I have to kill him. `Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives'. So at some point there has to be an all-out kill or be killed fight. He didn't hear that part. He's taken Hermione because he wants to hear that final part of the prophecy. He doesn't realize that it's all meaningless now. Now that he's taken her he's made the prophecy true. I cannot allow that Evil to stand…” Harry's eyes burned brighter and brighter as the power welled up within him. The bed started to shake and the glass on the tableside shattered into a thousand pieces throwing drops of water everywhere.

“Harry. HARRY! Stop!” Neville grabbed Harry's arm and shook him out of his reverie.

Harry blinked back at his friend and nodded grimly. The shaking stopped as he breathed deeply grasping his hands together to calm himself.

“I remember the house. We can apparate there. He won't kill her right away. He wants the prophecy from her. Maybe we can save her.” Neville's face was grim but resolute.

Ron appeared at the door and leaned tiredly against it. Harry looked up hopefully but Ron merely shook his head.

“No luck. Sorry, mate.” Ron sighed and wearily threw himself onto a nearby bed.

Harry was telling Ron their idea when another thought came to Harry that stymied the plan.

“We can't apparate, Neville. We don't know how yet. We can't take the test for several months. We'll have to fly there, and we really don't know where it is.” Harry shook his head ruefully.

“What? Oh, yeah. You've been gone for three months. Guess what extra class you missed? Yeah. Well, we can side-along, I guess. Funny. You've got all this power and I have to help you apparate.” Neville smiled slightly at the idea.

Harry glared and rolled his eyes at the smirking boy. Neville shakily finished putting on his clothes and the three boys looked carefully down the hallway then stealthily slipped out of the hospital to the apparition point.

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