Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry Potter and the Trpitych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: Harry requested that all female characters in the story fall madly in love with him. I fear that I may have offended when I laughed in this face, so he went and rubbed it in that I don't own him.

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Chapter 23: Attempting Normalcy

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"Hey," Hermione said with a smile when Harry walked in, "What are those?" She pointed to the parchment in Harry's hand.

Harry looked down at the papers he had grabbed on his way in, "This is Malfoy's list of spells he knows to be in the death orb." He shuddered. Nothing with the term "death" in it should ever be anywhere near Hermione.

Hermione nodded, clearly excited to be able to do something, "Bring it over here please. Oh, and could you get the papers in the top drawer of the desk over there?"

Harry retrieved the small stack of parchment, surprised to find more of Malfoy's handwriting. "What is all of this?" he asked as he took a seat beside her on the bed.

Hermione struggled to pull her legs up, resting the sheets of parchment against them after she did. "The set on the bottom is his list of all Death Eaters or darkly-associated witches and wizards he knows of and what they've been involved with. The rest are his takes on the events that happened at Hogwarts for the past six years. You know, the Sorcerer's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, Tom Riddle and Ginny's possession, Sirius, the Triwizard Tournament and what went on in the graveyard, The Department of Mysteries, Umbridge, Snape…" Hermione's beautiful lips formed into a tight scowl.

Harry, fascinated, began to flick through the stack, "Is there anything you're trying to find?"

Hermione shrugged at this, turning away from the list she was reading, "Actually, I don't expect to find too much in terms of discoveries. I just think that by having Malfoy we have a great chance to really have a clue about what's going on behind enemy lines. By giving me the list, I can have an idea about who knows what and how close they are to Voldemort. The closer to him they are, the more that their knowledge becomes his knowledge. Besides, you never know what random things might be useful. I still haven't got a clue about how we're going to destroy those Horcruxes, except Nagini, of course. I'm pretty sure we can just kill her."

"Probably," Harry agreed, then noticed her eyelids were drooping slightly, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, considering what happened," Hermione answered, "I simply don't understand why I'm still so weak. I can't even lift my arm without feeling exhausted, and I need help merely sitting up. You saw how hard it was for me just to pull my knees up. Just shrugging my shoulders is a challenge. I know that Madam Pomfrey said I would be stuck in bed for a day or two, but at this rate, it will be so much longer than that. A week at least."

Harry bit his lip, "Do you think she missed something?"

"That's the only thing I can think of. I plan to ask her about it when she stops by later. I think she said it would be around noon. In the meantime, I think I'll give this a look over once or twice. Maybe something will pop out at me."

"Okay. Do you need anything? You look tired," Harry observed.

"I am," Hermione replied simply, "But I don't need any sleep, I'm sure of that. Do you think you could have Dobby puree some soup or something so I could drink it through a straw? A smoothie would even be fine. I just don't think I can take being spoon-fed again."

Harry nodded, glad to be able to help, "I'll go take care of it. Will you be okay up here?"

"I'll be fine."

Harry chose to ignore her sharp tone, noticing that she had trouble switching pages and reached over to change them out for her. "Just the same, I think I'll go get Ron so he can keep you company, okay?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Harry took that as a yes, kissing her on the cheek before leaving. To his surprise, Ron was already heading down the hall when he came down the stairs.

"Hermione said you're coming to get me," Ron answered Harry's unasked question.

Sighing, Harry shook his head, "This whole mental-message-sending is going to send me through a loop, I swear. Yes, I was looking for you. Could you stay with her for a bit while I make her some lunch? You know, help her out subtly and all of that."

Ron nodded, "Sure. Subtlety is my specialty."

Harry laughed and refrained from arguing that point. Setting a hand a Ron's shoulder, he spoke, "Just don't tick her off, okay?"

"Right." When Harry still didn't move, Ron began pushing him down that hall, "I know that I'm not in love with her or anything Harry, but I do love her and she's my friend, too. Now go make some soup and I'll keep her company." Ron stood at the top of the stairs expectantly, arms crossed as he waited for Harry to go down them.

Harry sagged, "Fine. Just…"

"Go," Ron pointed.

"Okay, but…"

"Go."

"I will Ron. All I'm saying is…"

"Harry, in about two seconds I'm going to push you down these stairs and hope your weird magical abilities allow you to land safely. Do you understand?" Ron asked, irritated at his friend's lack of trust, but unable to resist a smile just the same. He swore he could hear Hermione laughing in his head.

"I understand," Harry replied, heading down the steps, "But I swear if she's dead when I get back…"

"You can feed me to Fluffy on a bloody stick. I get it Harry." Ron turned and left his friend, heading up to Hermione, who he found smiling when he walked in.

"If he didn't have to be so frustrating about it, I would find his over-protectiveness cute," she told him as he pulled up a chair beside the bed.

"If I didn't see the torture he went through yesterday I'd think it sick and pathetic," Ron replied, causing Hermione to giggle. "So what are you doing?"

Hermione sighed, "I'm trying to figure out what's making me so weak, and I'm going over this list Malfoy gave me to try and figure it out."

Ron nodded, "Okay. Do you need any help with anything?"

Hermione bit her lip, "No, not right now. Oh, wait!" She looked up at him, a strained hand pointing to a spell on the page, "I don't recognize this spell."

Ron laughed, "Hermione, if you don't recognize it there's no way that I do."

"I know that. Could you look through those biographies?" she asked, tilting her head, "I'm looking for someone. The last name is Turcotte, if I'm not mistaken."

Ron leafed through the pages, finding one that looked about right, "Emyr Turcotte?"

Hermione nodded in concentration, "Yes, that's the one. Tell me what it says under profession."

"Spell invention."

"Can you tell me if Fortitudo Quiesco is listed under the spells he created?"

"Er…yes, I see it."

"Did Draco write down what it is?"

Ron shook his head.

Hermione studied the paper before her, letting her stiff hand fall limply to her side. "Fortitudo… I believe that involves strength, and Quiesco definitely has quiet in it, so perhaps sleep?" Hermione looked up at Ron, "Could you go get Draco for me? I have a question for him."

Ron nodded, disappearing and reappearing moments later with Malfoy in tow.

"Yeah?" the latter asked, walking up to the bed to see what she was looking at.

Hermione determinedly lifted to point at the spell again, "Is that a muscle relaxant?"

Bending to see what she was pointing at, Draco nodded, "Yep."

Hermione sighed, letting her hand fall as she looked up at him, "Did you tell Madam Pomfrey that was in the orb?"

Draco searched his memory for a few moments, then shook his head, "No. When I was telling all of that her I was thinking about the things that might kill you. That one didn't occur to me until later when I was writing up this list."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply and then seemingly switched gears, turning to Ron, "Harry's on his way up with my lunch. Could you stall him for a few minutes?"

Raising an eyebrow, Ron looked between Hermione and Malfoy before shrugging, "Yeah, I guess, but you know how Harry is."

Hermione nodded, "Thanks Ron." As soon as he left the door she turned back to Draco, a pained expression crossing her face as she worked the words out, desperate to get this over with, "Thank you."

Taking a seat and already looking at Emyr Turcotte's profile, Draco looked up, surprised, "For what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "For saving my life."

Draco shifted uncomfortably, "You don't have to thank me."

This reply puzzled Hermione, so she pressed, "Why not? You could have let me die."

He shrugged, "Not really. We've established that, don't you remember? I'm irritating as hell and a complete jerk, but I'm not a murderer. Besides," he went on when Hermione opened her mouth to interrupt, "I think we both know that you're the only person in this house who doesn't hate me with every fiber of your being, so if I were to have let you die, I'd be shipped back to my father right about now." Hermione saw a look of fear flash across his eyes then, and remembered all too clearly two nights ago when she had been witness to his nightmare. The expression of vivid pain on his face was still fresh in her mind.

Hermione changed the subject slightly, choosing to let it go if he did not want to be thanked, "How do you know that I don't hate you with every fiber of my being?"

"Do you?"

"No."

"Then why does matter?"

Hermione sighed, frustrated, "Do you hate me with every fiber of your being?"

Draco bit his lip in thought, as if he had never bothered to consider this before, "Not every fiber of my being."

Hermione snorted, "Gee, thanks." She heard Harry and Ron returning and went back to the task at hand, "So how strong do you think Snape made the muscle relaxant?"

"Good question." As Harry and Ron walked in, he picked up her hand and lifted it above her head, "Hold this in the air as long as possible." He let go and the four of them watched as it shook for a few moments before Hermione exhaled and let it fall.

Draco smirked, "I think he made it pretty strong, Granger. But, you know, that's not the best part."

"What?" Hermione asked, dread in her voice, as Harry took a seat next to her, a smoothie in one hand and soup in the other.

"I'm pretty sure there's no counter curse." It was easy to see that he was restraining himself from laughing at her.

Hermione leaned back against the pillows, letting her legs fall flat again. "We'll just have to come up with something else, then. Madam Pomfrey will be here in a few minutes; maybe she'll have an idea. Is that my lunch?" she asked Harry distracted.

Harry nodded, "Would you like soup or a smoothie first?"

"Can I go?" Draco asked.

"Do you have somewhere you need to be?" Hermione asked, then smiled at Harry, "Smoothie, please."

Harry put the soup down on the table as Draco replied, "Er…no, I don't."

"Then you're not going anywhere. You either," she added to Ron, who had been heading to the door, before taking a sip of the smoothie, "If I'm going to be stuck in here all day you three are going to be as well. This is really good!"

Harry laughed, "It's strawberry banana."

"It's bloody fantastic," Hermione began to drink it greedily from the straw before Harry pulled it away.

"Slowly," he reminded her. "Do you want some soup?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose, "What kind?"

"Minestrone."

"Maybe in a minute." Hermione took another sip of the smoothie and then turned to Draco, who appeared highly uncomfortable, "So tell me about Emyr Turcotte. You don't have much written down about him."

Draco shrugged, as Hermione continued to drink the smoothie, switching to soup after a minute, "There isn't much to tell. He died a couple of years ago, very old. He had retired after my father paid him a hefty sum for all of his work about ten years before that. He wasn't big on the Pureblood movement, but never openly opposed it, either. He was actually somewhat odd. He was pureblood, but not very rich at all, except for after my father paid him off, and he never really participated in the Dark Arts. Most of the spells he created were completely innocent, like that muscle relaxant. It's odd that no one ever killed him. His genius was clearly seen as an asset."

"Hmm…" Hermione replied, the wheels turning in her head, "Sounds like he was being used more than anything."

"I don't doubt it."

Before anyone could say anything else, Madam Pomfrey came walking in, bag in hand as she took Draco's spot beside the bed. "How are you doing today, Miss Granger?" she asked, pulling a few potion flasks out.

"Weak," Hermione answered, "Draco found a spell that might be causing it. We just don't know a counter curse."

"What is the spell?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she gave Hermione a spoonful of liquid.

"Fortitudo Quiesco," Hermione answered, making a face as she swallowed.

The witch pursed her lips, and then pulled her wand from its holster, pointing it at Hermione's abdomen, "Novo Validas."

Hermione felt an odd warmth spread over her, tingling as it reached her fingertips.

"Try lifting your hand," Madam Pomfrey instructed, and Hermione did as she was told. It was still a bit limp, but considerably easier to do.

Hermione sighed, "Thank you." She turned to get out of bed, but Madam Pomfrey gently pushed her back with a smile.

"You're still on bed rest for another twenty-four hours."

Hermione couldn't resist as a small groan escaped her mouth, but gave in as Madam Pomfrey administered a few more treatments.

After the nurse's exit, the day went by quickly. Hermione let Draco and Ron leave, and then finished her lunch. Later, as Harry was telling her about the training that they would start, she realized that she had to use the loo. This, of course, meant that Harry had to help walk her across the room (thankfully she convinced him that she didn't need help with actually using the loo anymore, and was glad that her mother and Madam Pomfrey had been around during that period) to the toilet and back. She had no sooner gotten the fierce redness from her face when Luna and Ginny stopped by to say goodbye. Both girls promised to write regularly and had plans to come visit in a few weekends when things started settling back to normal. After having a bit of dinner and catching up on some reading, Hermione decided to call it a day.

"Honestly Harry," Hermione said with a sigh as she watched him set up the couch, already in his pajamas, "I feel fine. You won't break me, I swear. My parents aren't here anymore either."

Harry shook his head, "I refuse to risk it."

Hermione crossed her arms, happy to do such a simple motion with relative ease again, though she still felt sore, "Come here, please." She then patted the empty spot beside her.

Harry crawled beside her and she pulled him into a kiss, innocent at first but growing heated quickly as the two of them remembered how good it felt to be so close to one another. Hermione tangled her hands in his hair as Harry leaned over her, holding himself up with one arm as the other hand caressed her collarbone, her neck, her cheek. Their lips formed into tiny smiles against each other, and for a few moments they let themselves be lost in this world completely their own. Harry's hand traveled down, smoothing over her side and gently stroking her back, then coming to the front, where her felt a small ridge against his hand, unfamiliar in this territory he had come to know so well.

He broke the kiss, catching his breath as they looked each other in the eye. Harry reached down and took hold of the hem of her white t-shirt, pausing as she laid a hand on his, stopping him. Her eyes held a trace of fear, or was it something else? He waited a few more moments until she gave in, allowing him to lift her shirt up, stopping just under the curve of her chest.

Not wanting to worry Hermione, Harry bit back the sound that threatened to escape his throat, an almost strangled-sob being the result as he stared at the black spidery lines that revealed where the orb had hit. His brow creased as a shaky hand reached out to tenderly touch it, forcing himself to feel the residue of his failure.

"I'm sorry," he choked out at last, bending to kiss the mark, as if he could make the darkness go away.

Hermione shook her head, speaking softly, "Madam Pomfrey says it won't leave a scar."

Harry smiled, bittersweet, "You know I'm not talking about the scar."

Reaching out her hand, Hermione stroked his jaw line with the back of her fingers, watching as it worked, tense. Attempting to smile, she spoke again, "Please don't sleep on the couch tonight."

Harry nodded, allowing her to pull his hand away and cover the mark with the material of her shirt. He got up to turn out the lights, then returned to bed, letting her curl up against him. Though it was awhile before either of them fell asleep, neither of them spoke, choosing to be content with the silence of the night.

"Harry!" the desperate plea woke Harry up instantly. He hastily jumped out of bed and crossed the room to the bathroom, opening the unlocked door. The shower was running. Harry shook his head. Surely even Hermione would not try to take a shower in her state.

"Harry…please!" Indeed, she would. Harry hesitated barely a moment, knowing that the chances of his girlfriend being naked were very high and also knowing that the chances of her wanting him to see that were very low. Then he quickly grabbed the towel hanging on the wall, holding it in front of him as he flung open the shower curtain. Hermione was crouched on the floor with her knees up to her chest and her arms around her legs. The spraying water soaked him as well, but Harry paid no mind, tightly wrapping the towel around her frail and shaking body before bending to lift her up in his arms, noticing how thin she'd gotten in the past few days and kicking the knob off with his foot as he stepped out of the stall with her. Harry carried her back into the bedroom, barely acknowledging Ron as he set her in a chair, positive that she did not want to be put back in bed right away.

"Is everything okay?" Ron asked, taking in the towel-clad Hermione and soaking wet Harry.

Harry ignored him for a moment, turning to Hermione, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied, a tad bitter. Harry supposed that she was annoyed with her still less than perfectly functioning body.

"What on Earth were you doing?" he asked.

"I needed to take a shower," Hermione replied, her arms still quivering.

"And it didn't occur to you that you might need some help?"

"Yeah, I just bet you would have enjoyed helping me in the shower, Harry Potter. No thank you."

Harry rolled his eyes. This was the thanks he got for helping! "I could have found someone else to help you. I might have even had Dobby draw you a bath. You knew that you weren't strong enough yet. And in the end it didn't matter since I had to come retrieve you."

Hermione sulked as Harry pulled a pair of pajamas and underwear from the dresser drawer. He turned to Ron finally, "Everything's fine. Can you give us a minute?"

Ron nodded, leaving the room. Harry turned back to Hermione, sighing, "Do you want me to find someone to help you get dressed?"

"No," Hermione answered, frowning slightly, displeased with herself, "I'm sorry about the comment I made about you wanting to help me in the shower. I know you're just trying to make things easier for me, and it was kind of you to not stare at me back in there."

Harry smiled, taking in the sight of her, dripping in the big, fluffy, semi-soaked towel, and then looked down at himself, sopping wet in his pajama bottoms and t-shirt. He laughed a bit, setting the clothes down for a second and walking up to her, wrapping his arms around her as she held the towel in place. "I love you, Hermione."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, caught off-guard, "I love you, too."

Harry let go and grabbed the pair of underwear; gently sticking her feet threw the holes and sliding the pair up to her knees. He then put a hand over his eyes, "You may do the rest if you like."

"Thank you." Harry felt Hermione smirk as his jaw clenched in frustration a few times.

After a similar procedure with the bra (though he did remind her that it was not the first time he had seen her topless), Harry helped Hermione into a pair of sweatpants and then a t-shirt. Hermione smirked as she watched him get his own change of clothes, "Do I get to help you change?"

Harry mimicked her voice from earlier, "I just bet you would love helping me get dressed, Hermione Granger. No thank you," he smiled as she laughed, "I will be changing in the closet, and you just stay put."

Hermione crossed her arms as he left, but it turned out to be just as well, because Ron and Tonks came walking in only moments later, and it would have been a shame for them to catch him in such a compromising position. Well, funny, but a shame nonetheless.

Tonks rested her hands on her hips as her eyes fell on Hermione, "You are supposed to be in bed, young lady." She turned to Ron, "Could you kindly put Miss Granger back where she is supposed to be?"

Hermione sighed as Ron did as he was instructed, helping her walk back to the bed. "I thought we were training!" she complained.

Tonks nodded as Harry exited the closet, "We are training, but the whole beauty of it is that it doesn't involve you leaving bed. Nice hair, by the way. The dripping look works for you. You too, Potter."

Harry laughed, shaking his head like a dog to get some water on her, "Thanks." He took a seat beside Hermione, who was sitting at the edge of the large mattress.

"Okay," Tonks said, clapping her hands together with a smile, "Let's get started. Did these two fill you in yesterday, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, "I think that this is all a fascinating, and you were right, it has crossed through my mind once or twice. What will we be doing first?"

"Actually, I want to start with Ron today. I know that you all tried a transfer of emotions in the past and I would like to have another go at it."

"So what do you want me to do?" Ron asked.

Tonks pressed her lips in thought, "I want you to try this on your own at first. Try passing an emotion to Harry."

"Just in whatever way I want to?" Ron confirmed.

Tonks nodded patiently, "Follow your instincts."

Shrugging, Ron shut his eyes, deep in concentration. They watched for a few minutes as Ron made various faces that vaguely reminded Hermione of constipation before he finally sighed and opened his eyes, looking at Harry, "Anything?"

Harry shook his head, clearly thinking something similar to Hermione and resisting the urge to make fun of his friend, "Nothing."

Ron sighed, turning back to Tonks, "I think we should try whatever method you have in mind, now."

"Okay. It may not work, but this is what I was taught to use when first learning finer control with my Metamorphmagus powers. I though it might apply here. Sit on the floor here with your legs crossed, and Harry, I want you to sit across from him, about an arm's length away. Yes, that's good. I'm sorry, Hermione, but Madam Pomfrey has strictly instructed that for today you are only to observe."

Hermione sighed, but put up no further argument, "Alright then."

Tonks smiled, turning back to Ron, "Now close your eyes and try to concentrate on completely relaxing yourself. Once relaxed, try to focus in on one particular emotion. The trick may be to use less mind and more gut. Try to relax your mind as well, and allow instinct to do most of the work. Tell me when you're ready for the next step."

Ron nodded and they all watched for a long minute as his body slowly began to relax, starting with his core and working out to his fingertips and toes. His breath slowed, and if Hermione didn't know better, she would have assumed that he was sleeping while sitting upright. Finally, his head moved, just barely, and he spoke one word, "Okay."

"Now," Tonks continued with her voice solid but gentle, "focus on letting go of that emotion, and then try direction it straight towards Harry."

Hermione watched in anticipation, but visibly she noticed nothing. Harry seemed to be nervous, undoubtedly recalling the incident in which she had been overwhelmed with emotion earlier in the summer. She noticed that Ron seemed more controlled now than he had been then, but that didn't stop her from worrying on Harry's behalf a bit as well. She didn't want to watch Harry go through what she could remember all too vividly, over a month later.

What happened next surprised everyone in the room. They had all been completely still one second, and then a moment later Harry burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. For a second Hermione could only stare at the unusual sight. Harry was known to chuckle, even laugh a little on occasion, but only in short, quick bursts. She watched as he laughed so hard that tears streamed from his eyes and she was positive that he wasn't thinking straight. Hermione was certain that she had never seen him like this, and it threw her off to see a version of Harry that she knew would never make an appearance under normal circumstances.

"Harry," she spoke hesitantly, stifling the urge to giggle as well in the presence of so much unguarded happiness, "Are you okay?"

This only made Harry laughed harder. Wiping his eyes, he looked at her and replied, "I'm fantastic! This is bloody insane, but I can't stop! I'm so happy!"

Hermione was suddenly overwhelmed with love for the young man on the floor, but Ron looked embarrassed, speaking to Tonks, "Sorry about that."

Tonks shrugged, grinning herself, "Don't sweat it. Potter will calm down in a minute. I should have warned you. Happiness is pretty powerful. You should probably steer away from love as well until you get better control of your powers. We don't want him pouncing Granger. Or anyone else for that matter." Hermione laughed as the woman gave an involuntary shudder.

Harry was now reduced to chuckling and seemed to have regained his senses, speaking to Ron, "Thanks for that, mate."

Ron smirked, "No problem."

"Okay," Tonks moved on, "I think that we'll try that a few more times, then probably wrap up. I don't want to push things so early on."

Hermione paid attention as the process was repeated. The next time Ron used depression, and for about five minutes, Harry locked himself in the bathroom, refusing to come out and completely inconsolable. Finally, Tonks got him out and after a few chaste kisses from Hermione, he returned to normal. The time following that was unsuccessful, but some good results came when Ron channeled anger towards Harry, who was able to repress it. A clenching jaw and a strong glare the only visible signs that anything was bothering him. To rid him of his foul mood Ron sent a small shock of happiness his way again, this time only gaining a few laughs. As they finished up, Tonks left, and Ron and Harry began to leave to get some lunch.

"Take me with you," Hermione insisted, pouting as she crossed her arms, fully aware that she was acting like a small child.

"Bed rest, remember?" Harry pointed out, "I think you've pushed your limits enough for one day."

Choosing a different tact, Hermione smiled at him in the flirtiest way she could manage, "I wouldn't have to do anything. You could carry me," she batted her eyelashes, "It isn't as if you aren't strong enough."

Ron snorted at her performance, but she could see that Harry was caving. "What time does Madam Pomfrey arrive?" he asked.

"Two o'clock," she answered promptly.

Harry sighed, walking over and effortlessly lifting her into his arms, "You will be back in bed at one thirty."

Hermione smiled as she wound her arms around his neck and kissed his jaw, proud of herself as the three of them headed down to the kitchen. "Yes sir."

Harry returned the smile, and though he could hear Ron muttering what sounded suspiciously like "whipped" under his breath, Harry was pleased that things were slowly going back to normal. As he set Hermione down and watched her happily dig into the lunch Dobby had set out, exchanging rude remarks with Malfoy, he grinned to himself. She would get better, and things would be okay.

Yes, he tried to convince himself, things would be okay.

~*~

A/N: I must express my eternal gratitude for everyone's patience. I'm also grateful to my beta, Lady Starlight. Good news for everyone: only a month until summer break! I'm hoping to finish this by the end of the summer, so all the encouragement that everyone has continued to offer is very helpful. I mentioned this once already, but if you ever want to know how the next chapter is coming along, check out my livejournal: http://xvicklesx.livejournal.com. Again, thank you for reading and reviewing!

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