Author's Note: So, an update after two weeks isn't so bad, right?
So, the new job's going great, thanks for asking. I managed to cobble this together during downtimes. Just as an FYI, my chapters generally average 1,700 words in length. I don't know why it works out like that, but in invariably does. This one, however, is almost twice that, so rejoice!
Chapter Four
After that night, things between Hermione and I improved a little. I still wasn't sure how to deal with the fact that she took points from me (and what that might mean about our changing relationship), so I took the easy way out and pretended that it never happened. Somewhat to my surprise, Hermione, Ms. "Let's talk about our feelings until you want to poke your eyes out," never mentioned it either. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, so in the end I decided to ignore that too.
This is not to say that all was peachy in my life. After all, my Firebolt was still missing. After about a week of terrorizing the general student populace with threats and suspicions, apparently the staff had had enough, and Professor McGonagall took me aside for a little chat, "asking" me (in the same way that a lioness "asks" a zebra to be her next meal) to act like an adult. So I did…eventually. But looking on the bright side, I was able to smack Malfoy around and not get in trouble for it. Well, not counting the points Hermione took from me, but I'd trade 10 points for the chance to hit Malfoy any day.
It was about a month later when I received another shock. I was finishing up a Transfiguration essay after dinner in a secluded little corner of the Common Room, having procrastinated beyond my usual standards. Ron had abandoned his essay long ago, and, of course, Hermione had finished hers even longer ago. I was trying my best to work on the essay, but it was difficult with the sounds of the other Gryffindors (Ron included, that lazy bastard) having fun on the other side of the room. I was seriously contemplating giving up when I heard a small fizzle sound.
"Mr. Harry Potter sir?" came a quiet, tentative voice.
I turned in surprise. "Dobby?" It was very rare to see a House Elf where there were a lot of people, unless it was in a service role. In fact, House Elves generally avoided such things, as it was not considered "appropriate" to be seen in the wizard culture. That explained Dobby's quiet demeanor, but it didn't explain the large bandages that were wrapped around his head. "What happened to you?" I whispered.
"Dobby has been very, very bad and deserved to be punished," he whispered.
I considered probing further, and possibly trying to convince him that smacking oneself in the head wasn't proper, but it seemed like to much effort at the time, what with my essay glaring up at me. "Alright, fine," I said. "What can I do for you?" I asked, wondering why he was here.
But of course, I should have been more aware of my phrasing. Dobby started weeping quietly. "Haw pter s knd n gnrs t off tdo smthn fDobby!" he said between sobs and sniffles. After five years of being around Dobby, I was able to translate that to, "Harry Potter is so kind and generous that he offers to do something for Dobby!"
I patted him gently on the left shoulder, the only spot I could see that wasn't covered in bandages. "Shh, it's okay Dobby. What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Dobby has been a very bad elf because he has violated…" and he went on and on a bit about how bad he was. I learned early on to let him get through it, otherwise he'd never get to the point. Eventually he said, "…and Dobby deserved punishment because he took this to give to Mr. Harry Potter," placing something on the table.
At first glance, I thought it was wand, or at least a slightly broken wand. I picked it up and turned around in my hand. "Dobby?" I asked, confusion evident in my voice. "What is this…"
And then I knew what I was holding. "Dobby," I said, still looking at the shard of wood that could only have come from my Firebolt, "Where did you find this?"
I turned to face the little House Elf and was surprised to see him cowering in the corner, afraid of me. I took a deep breath to calm myself. "Dobby," I said again, but it still sounded a bit menacing. I tried again, putting on my best smile. "Dobby? Hi, how are you? So, where did you find this?"
But Dobby shook his head. "Dobby cannot say, Mr. Harry Potter sir. It is against school rules for House Elves to take-"
"Cannot say?" I parroted. "Cannot say!?" I realized my voice had gotten a little loud and tried to take another deep breath. By this time, though, I had attracted the attention of the rest of the Common Room.
"Hey Harry, you okay?" Ron asked, slowly approaching my table.
I took another deep breath and handed Ron the piece of wood from my Firebolt. "Sure, fine. Look what Dobby found."
Ron took the piece of wood and examined it. After a moment, he said slowly, "Harry, is this…"
"Yes it is."
"Um…where did Dobby find it?"
"He won't say," I said in tightly controlled voice.
"He won't say?"
"He won't say. He'd have to beat himself if he did."
"Oh."
Since I didn't want Dobby to punish himself (at least not yet), I tried to think of another way to get him to tell me. Suddenly I had an idea. "Ron, can you go get the map from upstairs?"
"Sure," he said, and then ran off for our dorm room. I sat there silently with Dobby when Hermione appeared.
"Harry? What's going on?"
Without looking at her, focusing all my energies on controlling myself, I said, "Dobby found a piece of my Firebolt, but he won't tell me where because he'd be violating a House Elf rule."
After a second, Hermione said, "Oh." After another second, she said, "Harry, you're not thinking of making him talk, are you? Because-"
"No, I'm not," I said, finally looking at her. She seemed relieved to hear that. "I do, however, have a plan."
Hermione no longer looked relieved. "Harry…" she said slowly.
Before I could reassure her that my plan was Elf-friendly, Ron appeared with the map in his hand. He handed it to me, and I saw that he had already promised the map that he would misbehave. I spread the map on the table and beckoned to Dobby. "Here Dobby, come take a look at this."
Dobby looked at the map. "Oooooo…Harry Potter Sir! This is a-"
"Yes, yes, yes," I said impatiently. "We're going to play a little game, Dobby. DO you like games?"
Dobby squealed and clapped his hands. "Oh yes! Dobby loves games!"
"Okay, great. The game is called…um…hot/cold." Ron looked curious, but I could practically hear the wheels churning in Hermione's head as she was trying to figure out where I was going with this. "It works like this: whenever my finger gets close to the place on the map where you found my Firebolt, you say `Hot.' Whenever my finger gets further away, you say `Cold.' Understand?"
Dobby nodded slowly. "Dobby thinks so."
I smiled encouragingly. "Okay, let's begin." I placed my finger on part of the map labeled `the Great Hall.'
"Hot!" Dobby shrieked, startling all of us.
"You were in the Great Hall when you found my Firebolt?" I asked skeptically, once my breathing had returned to normal.
Dobby shook his head. "No sir. But Dobby wasn't outside."
"Oh, no Dobby. You see, you should start with `warm' or `cool' first. The closer I get to the place where you found the Firebolt, you say `warmer' or `really warm,' and then you say `hot' then `hotter' then `really hot.' DO you understand now?"
Dobby nodded enthusiastically. He looked at my finger, still on the Great Hall, and said, "Cool," looking awfully proud.
"All right," I said, taking a deep breath, hoping that this would work. I next placed my finger on Gryffindor Tower.
"Cool," Dobby said, creating a sudden sigh of relief around me. I look up, surprised to see practically all of Gryffindor Tower standing around the table. I returned to the map and started moving my finger around the castle. There was a disappointed moan from the crowd when Dobby said that the Slytherin dungeons were cool. I found the trail when Dobby said, "warm," and then "really warm" and then "really really warm" and so on. By the time he got to "really really really really really really really warm," Ron interrupted him and requested that he use the word `hot' instead. The trail led me to the west side of Hogwarts, and my finger circled around and around until I got to a single room. There were a couple of names in the room, but I wasn't sure exactly what the room was used for. I did, however, know what part of the castle the room was in, as it was clearly labeled: Ravenclaw Tower.
As I sat there, my finger firmly planted somewhere in Ravenclaw Tower, I couldn't help but hear Hermione's voice in my head: "Harry, now don't go off without thinking. We need think sensibly. We need to take this to the professors; they'll take care of it. Besides, you can't just go barging into another House and start destroying things just because Dobby found a piece of your broom in there. For all you know, some poor Ravenclaw might have picked it up accidentally from somewhere else and brought it into their Tower. Are you listening to me Harry? Harry?"
I looked up at Hermione, slightly startled, as she waited patiently for me to answer; I guess her voice wasn't just in my head after all. I started to nod. After all, she was right, I had to have a clear head and not just rush out of here all half-cocked…
Ah screw it! Since when did I ever think things through? It's pretty much worked for me in the past, so why change now? I stood up and surveyed the Common Room, every face turned toward me. I looked over to Dobby. "Dobby, was the rest of my broom in the same room?"
Dobby nodded.
"Right then." I looked directly at Hermione. "This isn't a matter for the professors. This is personal." A path cleared for me as I walked towards the portrait hole.
"Harry! You can't-"
"It's not after hours, Hermione," I shot back. "I can take a walk if I want to." I started trekking through the corridors, only slightly aware that there were a quite a few Gryffindors behind me. Or perhaps not so slightly aware, as Ron and Hermione were having quite an argument behind me. I came to a sudden stop just before the portrait that protected the entrance, creating a small pile-up behind me. I glared over my shoulder at the assembled Gryffindors and received a few sheepish looks in return.
Because, no matter what I tried, I couldn't get Hermione's voice completely out my head (and the fact that the real thing was only a few paces away didn't help any), I wanted to be sure that my Firebolt was in there. Placing the wood shard on the palm of my hand, I cast a spell. It was a simple searching spell that almost all mothers knew - if you had something that was part of another (like the lid to a jar, or a piece of a broomstick), the piece that you had would orient itself in the direction of the rest. I had a grim little smile as the broomstick shard pointed directly towards the portrait hole.
I walked up to the portrait, the inhabitant looking rather nervous. "What…what is the meaning of this?" she asked. "Why are all you Gryffindors here?" I took one last look at the Marauders Map to make sure I had the right password before muttering it silently to the portrait - no point in letting all of Gryffindor know the Ravenclaw password.
The woman in the portrait looked uncertain. "This is highly irregular. I don't know how you came to know the password, but you just can't-"
I was too irritated to argue with a painting. I knocked hard on the frame to get her attention. "I gave you the password. Now open up, or I'll open you myself." The painting, choosing discretion over valor (and plus I did have the password) opened slowly. I walked through, followed by a dozen curious Gryffindors.
The Ravenclaw Common Room pretty much looked like I expected it would: lots of dark cherry wood and teak, bookcases all over the places, and most of the inhabitants were studying. Or, at least they were studying seconds ago. Now, every Ravenclaw was staring at me and the Gryffindors behind me.
After a moment of silence, Anthony Goldstein, the Head Boy, broke away from the crowd and approached me. "Er, Harry…Hermione…um, what's going on?"
I ignored him while I cast another search spell on the broom shard. The shard moved slowly until it pointed towards a set of stairs leading upwards, which I hoped led to the boys' dormitory and not the girls'. By this time, Luna had joined us and was talking quietly with Ron, while Hermione and Anthony were in a discussion. I didn't much care about what they were saying, as my only concern was my broom. While I hoped that the only thing wrong with the broom was the shard, I feared the worst. After all, having the broom in little pieces would definitely interfere with my summoning charms. I started walking when I felt a restraining hand on my shoulder.
"Wait, hold on Harry," Anthony said. "Hermione told me what's going on, and I think we should call Professor Flitwick."
I looked at the hand that was still on my shoulder and then looked at Anthony. He dropped his hand almost immediately. I resumed my march towards the stairs, the way clearing before me. I had just reached the first step when some part of me, the part that was still paying attention to my environment, registered that someone had said `stupefy.' I then became very aware of that when I felt the spell strike me in the back.
Normally being stunned isn't so bad. I mean, one moment you're awake and lucid, and the next you're opening your eyes, confused and wondering what happened. Sometimes you might get a headache, but that's rare.
Now, getting stunned and resisting it is a completely different story. It actually feels like getting stung by a bee - everywhere. It starts where the spell struck you, and then spreads all over your body. It isn't pleasant at all, and getting stunned in the back at that moment didn't help my mood. I spun around, only to face another shock.
Facing me, wands out and their faces clearly showing their surprise that I wasn't unconscious, stood Anthony and Hermione. This was the second time that Hermione betrayed me over this damn broom! Okay, so maybe `betrayed' is a strong word, but I was seething. I walked quickly towards the two of them, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors shuffling backwards as I approached. I stood before them, the Head Girl and Head Boy, and then savagely whipped my hand out, knocking their wands out of their hands and clattering across the room.
"Har-" Hermione began.
"Don't!" I said angrily, my finger pointed in her face. I couldn't deal with this, at least not yet. If I tried to process the fact that Hermione attacked me, I would get overwhelmed. I had to focus on the broom first, and then on Hermione's actions. I glared at them both, daring them to speak, before I walked up the stairs. I heard footsteps behind me but was past caring as I cast another search spell. I followed the broom shard until it pointed me towards a single door.
Without knocking, I opened the door to find two very surprised Ravenclaws, Mike Corner and Terry Boot, sitting at their desks. I stepped into the middle of the room, a few people following in behind me.
"Harry?"
The shard was pointing towards a trunk, though I didn't know whose. I extending my hand outwards, I said, "Accio Firebolt," knowing my summoning spell would work this time as I was so close. The trunk shook for a second before the top flew open, spreading clothes, book, and other small bits of parchment and quills in the air. To my horror, though, the `small bits of parchment and quills' started flying towards me, and I realized that I was looking at the remains of my broom.
Various splinters, shards, and twigs, along with three larger pieces (two from the handle and one from the tail), flew towards me and landed in a messy pile at my feet. I just stared at the pile, unable to believe that this heap of wood was the Firebolt that Sirius gave me. I noticed a few scraps of parchment intermingled within the wood, no doubt dragged when the pieces of wood were summoned. I fished one out and looked it over. It was an old homework assignment, and my eyes narrowed as I read the name at the top.
Terry Boot.
I looked over at Terry, and he froze. Then he made a dash for the door. I whipped out my hand, pushing back the people in the doorway and slamming the door in their faces. I crumpled the parchment in my hand before throwing it aside and approached Boot.
"Hold on, hold Harry! Listen to me for a second," he said quickly, raising his hands in front of him.
I continued to approach him as he walked backwards and sidled along the wall. Suddenly Anthony appeared in front of me. "Now wait a second Harry. I know you're upset, but-"
Over his shoulder I saw Boot make another run for the doorway, so I flung out my fingers, banishing him across the room and into the opposite wall. I heard a shriek but ignored it.
Boot picked himself up from the wall and drew his wand, shakily pointing it at me. "Wait Harry, I don't want to hurt you."
I couldn't help it - I barked a short laugh moments before banishing him again. He dropped his wand when he hit the floor. I kicked it towards him and gave him time to point it at me again before banishing him again into another wall. I was starting to enjoy myself when Hermione suddenly jumped in front of me.
"Harry! Please don't do this!" she pleaded, tears evident on her face.
I pushed her aside as I approached Boot again. I was a little bored with banishing him, and was considering which spell to use when Hermione jumped in front of me again.
"Hermione! Get out of the way!"
"No!" she said. "This isn't right! You can't do this Harry!"
I looked at her incredulously. "Are you kidding me?! That bastard steals my broom and busts it into pieces, and you say this isn't right?"
"No, it's not," she said, now openly crying. "It's not Terry's fault, Harry."
I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Oh really? Whose fault is it then? My broom's for falling apart?"
"No Harry," Hermione said, her voice unsteady. "It's my fault. I'm the one who took your broom."
A/N: Right…so, um, I guess you might consider that a cliffhanger, but if so, it's a really small cliff. More like a hill.
I'm sure that it comes as no surprise that Hermione took the broom; well, some might have thought Terry stole the broom. And the why isn't that big of a deal either. The rest of the story will focus on Harry's reactions and whether or not they can repair their friendship.
I know a lot of people are probably not that favorably disposed towards Hermione right now. In an author's note later I'll probably explain her behavior, since I doubt it'll come up from Harry's POV. Just keep in mind that desperate people do desperate things, and Hermione was desperate that Harry not find out who stole his broom.
Oh, and my analogy of being stunned is like being stung by a bee is from another fic I read long ago, one of my favorites. At least, I think it is (the quote, I mean); it's been so long since I read that part that I might be mistaken.
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