Chapter Ten: Diagonally
Hermione's silent reflection time was interrupted when she felt Harry move behind her and a very sleep slurred "Good morning" made its way to her ears. Pushing herself upright, or trying to, did her no good when his arms tightened around her.
"Harry," she said sharply and forcefully, having turned her face half around to see his still sleep shuttered eyes, "let me go."
His emerald eyes snapped open behind his glasses and got quite wide, echoing the flush that brightly lit his face. "Sorry," he muttered, looking anywhere but in her eyes, so very close to his own, as he unwrapped his arms from her waist hurriedly. Hermione felt a slight pang of loss when his arms snapped open, but brushed it off. She was close enough to see in his eyes as the night before came back to him, when he whispered, "Thank you." An explanation of that was unnecessary.
Hermione decided to move things along, though, ending her night in Harry Potter's arms. Best not to dwell on it, she reminded herself. It isn't like it's going to happen again. She smiled brightly at Harry. "Let's get ready to go. It's time for shopping."
The expression on Harry's face was more than priceless. It was a memory Hermione would keep to her dying day. It fully reminded her of that though Harry had grown up without a true family, he had still somehow acquired the stereotypical male dislike of 'shopping'. "Can't we at least have breakfast first?"
Hermione shook her head. "There's no food, remember? We can get food at the Leaky Cauldron, so they sooner you are ready, the sooner you get to eat."
Harry groaned, but a noise from the hallway made him spin off the couch, even more awake than before. Hermione found herself abruptly seated on the floor, in front of the couch, its bulk blocking anyone in the doorway from seeing her, watching as Harry's wand slid out of his pocket so fast she nearly missed it. When she rose from the floor, she caught sight of Harry stopping dead in the door, drawn up into a frozen position so quickly she nearly panicked before her eye caught sight of him placing his wand back in his pocket. Joining him in the doorway, she poked him in the side to get him to move over so she could see around him. The way the boys had grown in the last three years had not been fair to her in this department. Tonks was staring at Harry from the hallway, a pile of things cluttered around her feet, and Harry was staring back, understandably.
"Tonks?" Hermione gasped in surprise, recognizing the only thing the older witch was wearing to be a ragged man's shirt, exactly the type Lupin wore. In fact, if Hermione had to guess, it was the shirt Lupin had been wearing the day before. Despite being too large for her, the sloppy job buttoning it and the thin material left little to the imagination, though a glance at Harry showed his imagination was working overtime. Why doesn't he look at me like that?
"I thought you had left last night," Harry's voice finally said.
Tonks smiled brightly. "Remus asked me to stay through the night while he was transformed. I was just coming down to get some tea. If I had thought you two would be awake yet, I would've put some more clothes on."
Harry nodded like a dummy. "That would've been a good idea." He was carefully staying focused on Tonks' face, a thought that cheered Hermione slightly. "Tell me, Tonks, are there any other nights you've stayed I've not known about?"
Hermione giggled, breaking the tension, at the look on Tonks face, before understanding dawned. "Oh, no, Harry, its not like that at all." A brief dreamy look crossed Tonks face. Harry missed it, Hermione thought, but she certainly did not. "Besides, he was transformed last night. That'd be way too kinky, even for me."
The shade of green Harry turned at that, really did not go well with his eyes, Hermione decided. "I think…" he began, then spun on his heel, charging up the stairs towards the master bedroom and the bath located there.
Hermione's face was questioning as she looked at Tonks. "You aren't sleeping with the Professor, are you, really?"
Tonks grinned wickedly. "Not yet." Hermione let out a bark of laughter. "I didn't think Harry was quite ready for that bit of information."
Hermione shook her head. "No, definitely not. Go easy on him, though, okay? Lupin is the closest thing to a father he has left. I don't want him hurt again." The last was said with surprising force.
Tonks looked at her. "I promise." The wicked Tonks grin was back, though. "Professor. I can't wait to see Remus' face the first time I call him that while we're…"
Hermione cut her off. "I don't want to know.
Tonks just grinned. "So what's up with you two? You were both looking pretty cozy on the couch last night."
Hermione shook her head. "We're just friends."
Tonks snorted, a very unladylike sound. But then, it was Tonks. "Well, I think he'd like more than that, if those fire pictures last night were any indication."
Hermione suddenly felt relieved that she had not imagined it. "They were just dreams. They didn't mean anything." She tried not to sound bitterly disappointed. "He would never think of me that way while he's awake."
Tonks smiled. "That's because of who he is," she responded cryptically. "But, seriously, how long has he been able to do that with the fire? I mean, he was asleep, right? Can he do it while awake?"
Hermione nodded, still trying to work out Tonks first statement. "He just told me he had been able to do it for a while. He does it, apparently, to keep the nightmares from being so bad. He hadn't been sleeping since the funeral. At all. He just stays awake and plays with the fire while his body sleeps."
The look on Tonks face was one of great worry. "I'll talk to Remus about it, Hermione." Hermione blinked in surprise. "Reading your concern for him is like reading a large print book. Easy."
Hermione blushed. "Thanks, Tonks. I'd better go get ready. I'm going out with Harry today." At Tonks expression, she realized how what she had said sounded. "Shopping. There's no food in the house."
Tonks smiled oddly. "I had noticed that."
Hermione rushed past her, eager to escape the conversation that had left her mind swirling. Tonks merely smiled after her. "Those two poor children."
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later, Harry, wearing a set of black cloak-like robes with dark green trim over a black lightweight turtleneck sweater and a pair of grey slacks, stood waiting for Hermione to come back downstairs. When she did, he smiled at her. She had obviously had the same idea as him, since they were going to Diagon Alley, they might as well dress like wizards.
Hermione was wearing a blue set of robes of the same style as Harry's over a pleated grey skirt and white jumper, and she smiled at Harry, her bushy hair drawn back into a clip at the base of her neck. She smiled. It was that smile that Harry knew was just for him, her best friend. He had never even seen her give Ron that smile. He grinned back at her. "Ready to go?" As she nodded, his stomach punctuated this with a loud growl, and she laughed softly.
"Let's go before you eat yourself for breakfast."
"Apparate or go by the Floo Network?" he questioned her.
She glared, letting a false anger cover her fear. "What do you think? I'm not getting soot all over me just to travel to the other side of London."
He grinned. She knew how much he liked just popping into existence. She hated it, her Muggle upbringing making it possibly the weirdest method of transport wizards had to her, but she still did it, for him, anyways.
Quite possibly he liked it because it was the only thing that made him feel like he was moving faster than when he was on his Firebolt, despite the Floo being nearly as fast. He blinked out of existence. She followed a second later.
When she arrived, Hermione dropped to her knees with a gasp. Harry's torso was lying against the brick wall of the Cauldron's courtyard. His legs were not present. "Oh no, Harry, you splinched yourself!"
Harry looked up at her as she put her hands on his shoulders. He was shaking. And then, when she met his eyes, she discovered it was with laughter. She looked down at his legs again. They were visible, and his Invisibility Cloak was bunched up in one hand. "You beast!" she shouted, hitting him. "How could you do that to me?!"
He was just laughing too hard. He stood up and wrapped her in his arms. "Sorry, 'Mione. I couldn't resist. I know how much you hate Apparating."
She was still shaking with adrenaline let down. "That was horrid of you."
He squeezed her tight. "I really am sorry."
She nodded. "I know." She grinned. "It was rather funny. But you know I'm going to have to get you back for it."
He shrugged. "I'm looking forward to it." Harry's grin was just pure challenge. "Let's get some food, though." They went into the Leaky Cauldron for breakfast.
* * * * *
Ollivander's looked exactly the same as it always did, and as the two youngsters stepped inside, they discovered it still smelled the same as it always had, like saw dust and lemons. As the noise of the wizards in the street, all clamoring after Harry (and Hermione, too), faded outside the closed doors, Hermione reached over and gently squeezed Harry's hand. She knew how hard it was for him for all the world to be clamoring for the 'hero' he did not believe himself to be. It was clear, from the shouted questions, that even after a week, there were still only rumors of what had happened in the Ministry.
After a moment of quiet, a noise from the back of the shop drew Harry's attention, and almost his wand, before he recognized Mister Ollivander. Hermione stared at him slightly, quickly, first Tonks, now Ollivander. Harry seemed to have become paranoid in the last week, ready to snap like a loaded weapon.
"Ah, young Mister Potter, it seems only yesterday you were in here buying you first wand… I trust that choice has proven satisfactory?" At Harry's slight nod, he continued. "You have done great things, I see, as I knew you would." The old man's attention seemed to switch suddenly, his eyes coming to rest on Hermione's bushy head. "And Miss Granger, if I recall correctly… Let me see… vine wood, I believe?"
The young witch nodded, but the old wizard could not have actually seen her reply before he vanished into the rows of shelves. Harry and Hermione sort of ambled about, waiting for him to return. Hermione looked out the window at the crowd gathered in the street, and struck by sudden inspiration, grinned cheekily and waved to them. She caught sight of a small smile on Harry's face, before the sound of Ollivander returning brought them back to where they were.
"Vine wood and hair of unicorn, fourteen inches, quite flexible." He handed her the wand, which felt deathly cold to the touch. Hermione shivered, and boxes of wands exploded off a shelf behind the counter. "I think not, something a little less enthusiastic, perhaps." He extracted another wand. "Core of a hippogriff feather, eleven inches, somewhat rigid." This one sat inert in Hermione's hand, even when she tried the simplest of spells. "Perhaps, no." He looked her up and down, "I wouldn't've thought," he mumbled, glancing at Harry, then her again, before pulling out another wand. "Veela hair core, twelve and a half inches, flexible." He extended it to Hermione. "I received this by post a few days ago."
She shook her head. "Absolutely not. Veela and I…" Harry coughed slightly into his fist, covering a grin.
Ollivander nodded, unperturbed. "Well, then…" H reluctantly extracted a wand that was very dark in coloration. "Stained vine wood, inset rose pattern, core of an Athenian owl feather, wrapped in a tail hair of a Pegasus, thirteen inches, flexible."
Hermione could not take her eyes off the wand, and wordlessly extended her hand to take it. It began to vibrate slightly before it even touched her hand, and was warm as she closed her fingers about its girth. She felt it throb with power under her touch, and it seemed to glow briefly.
The blue glow drew Harry out of his stupor leaning against the wall. It was familiar, almost like a… Hermione vanished with a pop of displaced air… a Portkey.
The young wizard exploded into action, but even as his wand stopped moving, motionless by Ollivander's head, his emerald eyes took in the truth of the old man's shock. Instantly, he swept around, his wand clearing the store, before, outside the window, he saw a man in a dark cloak shoving his way through the crowd. He was a mere second behind the reductor curse that blew the front window to Ollivander's shop apart, his Quidditch skills serving him well to keep his balance as he slammed into the crowd, which was peeling apart for him.
"Diffindo!" His shout send the running man in black to the ground, his sliced open leg spraying blood over the cobblestones of Diagon Alley. "Incarcerous." The ropes coiled about the man, preventing him from resisting. Harry stopped by the bleeding man. "Where did you send Hermione, Death Eater?"
The man on the ground laughed through his pain. "I'm not a Death Eater, Potter."
Harry raised his eyebrows in disbelief and smiled darkly. "Let's check, shall we?" His wand flickered, and the arm of the man's robe tore, baring his forearm. Harry knelt down. "This may hurt you a little bit." Reaching out, he touched his hand to where the mark had been on Snape's arm. The Death Eater screamed as the Dark Mark burned black on his otherwise pasty skin, growing paler by the second as he continued to bleed.
"How…" the man sobbed.
Harry breathed out slowly, and with a trick he had learned long ago, ten years from now, he drew darkness about himself, casting shadow over his body, and his eyes burned red behind the green when he leaned forward to whisper in the man's ear. "The Dark Lord lives in me, faithful servant." His voice was silky smooth, almost a hiss, high and cold. "Now tell me, where is the mudblood? Where did you send her?"
Which is when the inherent stupidity in the pure-blooded systemic inbreeding became apparent. "To our base, milord, as Malfoy and Lestrange commanded."
Harry hissed angrily at those names. "Why?"
"To draw Potter in. The girl is the bait, to bring in Potter for a Death exchange…" Confusion reigned in the man's eyes. "To bring you back, milord."
"Where are they?"
The man trembled. "I cannot say, the orders arrived, I carried them out."
"Legilimens." Harry whispered, easily battering his way into the unfortunate, confused man's mind, seeking the answers he needed. His vision blacked for a second, then turned red, and as it cleared, he found himself ten feet away as the Death Eater's eyes rolled up into his head and blood ran out his nose.
"Damn," Harry muttered, feeling, through the residuals of the link, the man die as he picked himself off the ground just in time for two men in clothing that instantly identified them as Aurors rushed up.
"What's going on?" they demanded simultaneously. Harry explained quickly. One of them picked up the dead man's wand and after a near silent moment of his muttering, he looked up. "He's right, at least, that creating a portkey was the last thing this wand did." He examined Harry's wand next, nodding as he completed his investigation confirming Harry's story. "Stay where you can be found, Mister Potter, in case we have more questions for you."
"Can I have his wand?" Harry asked softly. "Or do you need it for the rest of your investigation?"
The older of the two looked dubiously at him. "We really shouldn't… but it is you, Mister Potter. Just make sure we get it back." He handed Harry the wand, then watched as Harry walked a few steps away before picking up a loose cobblestone from the street and vanishing.
The younger Auror looked at his partner. "He's not allowed to do that."
The older man sighed. "He's Harry Bloody Potter. Leave him be for now. We've got enough mess to sort out here."
* * * * *
A bit later, Hedwig dropped a package off for Ollivander, and it chinked when the old man opened it to discover a pile of Galleons. A note was inside.
Mister Ollivander -
This should cover the cost of Hermione's wand and the window. Sorry about that. Keep any change.
HP