A/N: Sorry for the long wait on this one. Really - I'm trying to stay a chapter ahead of where I actually am. Hopefully (hopefully) it won't take as long for chapter three to come out. Thanks, to the usual suspects, Kristin and James for the beta.
When Harry entered his room at Grimmauld Place, he was even angrier to discover that all his things were already there. New robes and books were sitting in a pile on his bed. Hedwig's cage was in a corner. He tore open some of the drawers, finding his clothes neatly folded.
He slammed the drawer shut and sat down on the bed, breathing hard. They were still treating him like he was a child. Fat load of help it was being legal to do magic.
Harry's thoughts drifted to Hermione's parents and he shivered. It suddenly occurred to him that the only reason that Hermione wasn't in critical condition at St. Mungo's was because she'd been with him when her parents were attacked.
Stupid, leaving the Grangers unprotected.
Harry wondered how many Order members had followed Hermione to Privet drive-if it was because of her visit that her parents were attacked.
They'll be okay, Harry thought, trying to calm the beating of his heart. They had to be okay. He didn't want Hermione to have to deal with that pain-of losing her parents. Not yet. Not until they were old and went quietly in their beds.
There was a knock on the door. Harry straightened up, unwilling to see Lupin again.
"Harry?"
It was Ron's voice. Harry felt a jolt of relief and scrambled up.
"Come in!"
Ron opened the door, looking frantic. "What in the blazes is going on?" he said. "We're about to sit down for supper at the Burrow, and the next thing we know, the house is being invaded by Order members!"
"Yeah," Harry said. "I had a similar experience."
"Mum's downstairs now, trying to sort things out with Professor Lupin. Dad's still at work, he didn't want to draw attention away by leaving. Ginny's gone to mope in her room, she's angry because no one will tell her anything." Ron focused on Harry for the first time and seemed to pale. "Hermione… where's-she's okay, isn't she?"
Harry swallowed. "There-there was an attack."
Ron's mouth dropped open and the colour drained from his face. "Her-Hermion-Hermione?"
"No," Harry said quickly. "Er… on her parents. There was an attack on her parents. Hermione's okay. She's with them now."
Ron stared, looking shocked. "There was… on… her…"
"Parents, yeah," Harry said. "She's… well, I don't know how she's doing. They wouldn't let me go with her."
Ron looked sympathetic, though still dazed. "She's Hermione… you know, go through it with your head held high and all of that."
"Yeah," Harry said. "I know. But she's not supposed to go through this alone. I just don't want… I don't want her to think I've abandoned her."
"She won't think that!" Ron said. "You know she won't!"
"It all went so fast… I don't… I don't really know what she thinks…" Harry said.
The earlier scene in the kitchen had been reduced to nothing but a confused blur of colour and noise. He could scarcely remember anything that happened.
Ron swallowed. "D'you know what happened?"
Harry shook his head. "There was an attack," he said. "What else do you need to know?"
Ron narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "It's not your fault, and you know it. I don't reckon Hermione would want you blaming yourself."
"I don't know what Hermione would want," snapped Harry. "I can't very well ask her, can I?"
"No," Ron said, alarmed. "Nothing you can do but wait, I s'pose. They'll bring her here as soon as they can. Blaming yourself now won't do much to help her."
"Look, Ron," said Harry. "If you're not going to tell me anything useful, you might as well bugger off."
Ron raised his eyebrows. "Okay, I'll let that one slide by since you're upset. But, Harry… what good is it going to do, locking yourself in here?"
"I was thinking," Harry said. "Something you haven't done. Her house was attacked when Hermione wasn't home-"'
"She wasn't home?"
"She was with me-for my birthday, Ron, don't look at me like that-and that's when they went in. Why? What could Voldemort gain from attacking her parents? Seems like it would have made more sense for him to… wait."
"Wait for Hermione to come back you mean."
Harry nodded gravely.
"Bloody hell," Ron said. "I dunno. Maybe-maybe they were more assured of success this way. I mean, Hermione's a right powerful witch, isn't she? And they're still hurting you, in a way. It's like… you're being told you're not safe, no matter what you do."
"Yeah," Harry said, resisting the urge to kick something. "Yeah."
"C'mon," Ron said, looking worried. "Let's go see if Mum's made something for supper. I reckon it'd be a good idea for you to eat something."
The last thing Harry was feeling was hungry, but he was unwilling to be left behind alone. It felt good to have Ron there.
"I'll tell you one thing that's for sure," Harry said, without humour. "Her parents are going to be even less likely to approve of me after this."
Ron cracked a smile. "You know, Harry, if you'd only picked any other girl in the wizarding world-I'm sure most parents would be beside themselves to know that Harry Potter was dating their daughter."
"Unless they were Death Eaters."
"Unless they were Death Eaters," Ron agreed, grimacing.
Entering the kitchen, it became evident that Molly Weasley had outdone herself. On the stove, there was water boiling, vegetables frying, and soup bubbling. Salad, bread, and chips were all ready assembled on the table.
Harry and Ron exchanged nervous glances but refrained from saying anything. It was just like Mrs. Weasley-overdoing it on the food in order to try and cheer them up.
Her expression was sympathetic and pitying when she saw Harry. Harry immediately wished he hadn't come downstairs.
Ron seemed to pick up on the tension. "Smells great, Mum. What are we having?"
"Well, I was thinking a nice carrot soup would be a pleasant way to-"
There was a large bang that interrupted Mrs. Weasley's words. Harry tensed up, reaching for his wand.
He rushed into the living room. There, he was greeted by Tonks, holding a lamp in her hands and sporting a guilty expression. There was a large piece missing from it, sitting on the floor by her feet.
"Whoops!" she said cheerfully, setting the lamp back on the table. "Reparo!"
Harry couldn't quite contain his disappointment. "Where's… er…"
"Hermione?" Tonks continued brightly. "Still at the hospital. Don't ya' worry, Harry. Your girl's holding up just fine."
Harry was certain she was-that was Hermione. It would be just like her to put on a brave face.
"How are her parents?"
Tonks frowned. "Her Mum's fine. Her father got the brunt of it. Transported them to Mungo's right away, of course. He should pull through."
"Good," Harry said, feeling his stomach rumble unpleasantly. "I wish… I'd really like to see her."
"She'll be brought here tonight," Tonks said and Harry felt a surge of relief.
"Really?"
"Yes," Tonks said. "She'll need somewhere safe to spend the night. But… Harry, if I were you…. Well, I don't expect that she's going to need to be coddled, if you know what I mean."
She gave him a significant look and Harry blinked, uncertain. Instead of questioning her, he nodded and went back to the kitchen, Tonks following behind him.
Ron let out a large burp as he entered, looking proud of himself. Mrs. Weasley turned around, breaking into a large smile when she saw Tonks.
"Nymphadora," she said causing Tonks to wince. "Sit, sit. We've got plenty. You must be starving."
"You've outdone yourself, Molly," Lupin said, folding a napkin across his lap.
Mrs. Weasley flushed with pleasure. She looked at Harry. "Go on then, dear. Why don't you sit next to Ginny?"
Harry glanced around the table. There seemed to be an awful lot of people around it. His stomach revolted in protest. All these people and it didn't matter. As far as Harry was concerned, the entire wizarding world could have sat at the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place and it wouldn't have made much difference.
"Er… I don't think… I don't feel so good…"
Without looking at anyone else, Harry stumbled out of the kitchen. He went back upstairs, the dingy atmosphere of the house suiting his mood perfectly. He glanced at the fireplace on his way out, wondering if he could floo to St. Mungo's. Perhaps while everyone was busy eating…
In a flash, his memories of rescuing Sirius came back to him. If Harry had learned anything it was that he paid for his recklessness. If the Order didn't want him at St. Mungo's with Hermione, then he had to believe that they had a good reason.
Reaching his bedroom, he flopped down on the bed, turning on his back to study the ceiling. There was a jagged crack, running diagonally from one side to the other. White paint was chipping along it, giving it a black outline. Like a scar.
There was a knock on the door and Harry sat up, feeling irritable. "Yeah?"
Ron opened the door. "Hey."
"Go away," Harry said, flopping back down.
Ron cleared his throat. "Mum says that she thinks you should come back downstairs."
"I'm not hungry."
"She baked a cake for you and everything."
"That's nice of her."
"Yeah," Ron said, coming further into the room. He shut the door behind him. "C'mon, Harry. We have all kinds of gifts and stuff for you. I reckon it'd do you good if you tried to enjoy it."
"I can't, Ron."
"Sure you can," Ron said, his voice cajoling.
Harry stared back up at the ceiling. "I'm not trying to make this about me-really I'm not. But it seems wrong somehow to celebrate my bloody seventeenth birthday while Hermione's stuck with her parents at St. Mungo's."
Ron shuffled his feet. "You know what I think?"
"What?" Harry said.
"I think… well… I think that if you're not careful, this might split you up."
Harry snorted. "Don't be stupid."
"Hear me out, will you?" Ron said irritably. "You two… you're right stronger when you're together, aren't you? Proved that well enough with a demonstration last year in the middle of the Great Hall. He must've known what he was doing when he attacked her parents."
Harry thought about it. "Maybe."
"He's afraid of you, Harry," Ron said, voice growing stronger. "Yeah, that's right. He's frightened of you. You and Hermione both. You can't let him split you two up."
"He won't," Harry said, with certainty. "He can't."
Ron grinned. "Aww, Harry, that's sweet. You're all secure in your relationship. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Come off it, Ron. Don't you think it's possible that I learned a thing or two last year?"
"Nope."
To his surprise, Harry found himself reluctantly grinning back.
"Harry, I don't reckon there's much you can do at this point. Just come back downstairs, will you? There's loads of presents for you and Mum spent a long time on your cake."
Harry sighed. "Fine."
"Great!"
Not feeling quite as enthusiastic as Ron, Harry followed him back downstairs. The rest of the household was gathered in the living room. To Harry's astonishment, the living room looked much more livable than it had a couple years ago. It had been brightened up, the paint re-done, and the furniture replaced. A large couch, two pink armchairs, and a coffee table sat in front of a roaring fire.
Everyone perked up when Harry came in. There was a moment of awkward silence before Ginny cheerfully declared that she was cutting the cake and she didn't care whether or not Harry wanted any because she did.
Everyone laughed and Harry felt himself relax. He was thankful no one mentioned his behavior from earlier. He had presents thrust at him from all sides while everyone was careful not to mention Hermione's name.
Harry opened his presents, smiling in all the right places, while keeping one eye on the clock. He received a book on Quidditch theory from Ron and a new quill from Mrs. and Mr. Weasley. The twins had sent him what they were calling "a new millennium snitch," which Harry carefully avoided opening. Lupin gave him a book on dark curses and their counter spells. Ginny gave him a gift certificate to Honeydukes.
When it was Tonks' turn, she shifted uncomfortably before breaking into a hesitant smile. "Well… I've already cleared it with Dumbledore and he thinks it would be a good idea if you received your Apparition license as soon as possible."
Harry nodded. "That makes sense."
Tonks cleared his throat. "And I'm going to train you."
There was a long moment of silence.
"Er…. Happy birthday?" Tonks tried weakly.
Harry blinked a few times. "You're going to teach me how to Apparate?"
"Yeah," Tonks said, trying to sound cheerful. "I know it's not a real gift, but-"
"I think it's brilliant!" Harry interrupted, grinning. "Thank you!"
Tonks looked proud of herself. Mrs. Weasley frowned, but didn't say anything.
The noise of the door opening and shutting echoed in the front hall. Harry stood up immediately, heart in his throat.
His hopes were dashed, however, when a loud male voice rang out. "Hello? Molly? Ginny? Ron?"
Mrs. Weasley stood up, looking relieved as Mr. Weasley came into the living room. "Arthur," she said faintly. "You're back."
Mr. Weasley looked pale and tired, but came in to give his wife a kiss on the cheek.
"Come, let me get you something," Mrs. Weasley said gently, putting a hand on her husband's arm and leading him from the room. "You look exhausted, dear."
"I'm fine, Molly, really… just been a long few days…"
"That job of yours, Arthur…"
Their voices faded away and the occupants of the living room exchanged several uncomfortable looks before Lupin gave a long stretch.
"Well, I think it would be wise if I turned in. 'Night all." He gave Harry a long look. "Don't stay up too late."
"I'll stay up as long as I need to," Harry said evenly.
Lupin gave a small nod. "Of course."
"Turning in sounds like a fab idea, Remus. Especially if I have to give the Potter a lesson on Apparating tomorrow." Tonks winked at Harry and Lupin frowned.
"You'll have a hell of a time trying to keep her focused," Lupin said. "I remember when Nymphadora was trying to get her Apparition license-she'd also Apparate everything within a three foot radius of herself!"
"Oh, I did not!" Tonks said. "I'll have you kids know, I was among the first in my age group to pass my test."
"Perhaps because you'd sent the judge to Australia."
"Don't listen to a word he's saying, Harry." Tonks shook her head. "He's just having me on."
"We'll see tomorrow at any rate, won't we?"
Smiling to himself, Lupin left them where they were. Grumbling under her breath, Tonks followed him. Harry couldn't help his small smile. It felt good to see some levity, despite the dark cloud that seemed to hover over his head.
There was a small part of him that was relieved to see Lupin doing so well. There were times after Sirius' death that Lupin had seemed defeated. It was a look Harry was accustomed to seeing on his old Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but this was more profound. Almost as if the last bit of his hope had finally been sapped.
Seeing him surviving, laughing, joking… in Sirius' old house, no less, made Harry feel lighter.
Ginny and Ron exchanged a look and Harry felt a pang of guilt.
"Go on," he said, gesturing to the kitchen. "I'm fine, really. You two should see your Dad."
Ron looked hesitant. "I reckon he'd love to see you too, Harry. You're really one of the family, you know."
"I know," Harry said. "But you two go on. I think some time alone would do me good."
Looking unconvinced, Ginny and Ron left Harry sitting in his pile of presents. Letting out a breath, Harry grabbed the Quidditch theory book Ron had given him and climbed into the armchair by the fire. He felt pleasantly warm with the flames flickering at his feet and he opened the book on the lap, leaning back in the chair.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that everything was fine.
***
Harry awoke with a sudden start, horrified that he'd fallen asleep. He shifted, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain. Someone had thrown a blanket over him. The fire had turned to nothing but a lump of smoldering ash. For a moment, Harry had a sinking feeling he'd missed Hermione's return.
The reason for his awaking quickly became apparent. There was a large clunk in the hall, an unmistakable announcement of Moody's approach. Harry threw off the blanket and leapt to his feet, the Quidditch book falling to the floor.
He rushed to the hall, stomach clenching with nervousness. First he saw Moody, as conspicuous as ever. Behind him, clutching a small duffel bag and looking worn and tired, was Hermione.
Harry sagged with relief. He came forward, barely noticing Moody's eye as it whirred all over the place. His only concern was Hermione.
Aware of his presence, she lifted her head to meet his eyes. For a breathless moment, they stared at each other. It was clear from the way she looked at him that she was exhausted. He took two steps towards her and his throat clenched when she took a startled step backwards.
Moody clunked off towards the kitchen, as if sensing their need to be alone.
Harry stood there-feeling stupid and useless. He could never say the right words. Here she was, needing his comfort more than ever, and he had nothing to offer her.
Finally, he cleared his throat. "Can I… er… help you with that?"
Hermione pulled her duffel bag closer to her chest. "No, it's okay. I've got it."
Harry swallowed. "Are you tired? Hungry? Can I get you something?"
Hermione shook her head. Her voice was quiet, "I'd really just like to get some sleep. I want… I want to-to get back early to the hospital tomorrow."
Harry nodded, wanting to kick himself. "Of course. I'll… walk you to… your room, if you want."
"You don't have to do that."
Her words were gentle, but Harry felt himself fighting panic. He couldn't believe it. She was pushing him away. After everything they'd been through-she was trying to pull away from him.
Harry gestured in front of him. "I want to."
"Alright," Hermione said. Clutching her duffel bag tightly, she started off. They climbed the stairs in silence. Harry studied her back as she walked, growing increasingly desperate.
Their silence wasn't the calm, comforting silence of the past. This silence was prickling his skin. He needed to say something-only he wasn't sure what. He searched his head over and over for the words that would make things okay-the words that would give her comfort.
He couldn't find them.
They stopped outside her room. Hermione turned back around to look at him, her face pale. "Well, good-night."
"Yeah," Harry said. "Good-night."
Hermione gave a forced smile before turning back around. She had one hand on the doorknob when Harry stopped her.
"Hermione, wait… hold on a minute, will you?"
She turned back around, biting her lip. "Harry, what is it?"
"I just… how are you, really?" Harry hesitated before reaching out to brush her cheek.
Her eyes fluttered closed and she reached up to grasp his hand briefly before letting go. She looked like she was holding herself in check only by sheer effort.
"I'm fine."
Harry sighed and removed his hand from her cheek. "Alright, then. I guess… there's nothing left to say, is there?"
Her eyes opened and she looked at his face. An emotional struggle passed over her features before she backed up. "No, I don't suppose there is."
She turned back around and Harry took a deep breath, feeling like he had to say something to bridge the gap that had suddenly sprouted up between them.
"I love you. You know that, right?"
Hermione opened the door. "I know," she said, without turning.
She went into the room, shutting the door behind her.