Harry Potter and the Triptych by Vickles

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 23/07/2005
Last Updated: 20/11/2006
Status: Paused

From Ch. 17: Harry sighed, “Ginny is acting like a normal human being again and now my
girlfriend is having tea with my ex-girlfriend who doesn’t know that I’m dating my best friend. And
hey, just to top it off, Hermione just did what I think constitutes as telepathy, and you know
what’s worse?” “What?” Harry sat back up, “I wasn’t even surprised that she did it!” ~*~ Starts off
a couple of weeks after HBP. NOTICE! THE STATUS HAS CHANGED! For more information see
http://xvicklesx.livejournal.com/20227.html.




1. The Triptych Uncovered
-------------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: Even after Book 6 and that incident on Mugglenet, JKR is still awesome, and I would
not steal anything from her. These characters are hers and I am only borrowing them for a
while.

Author's Note: Welcome to the first chapter of my new fic, Harry Potter and the Triptych.
This story begins a couple weeks after HBP ends, and I am entering this in the Felix Felices
competition, so please read, rate (when the time comes), and review! With that said (I think this
is my shortest A/N yet!) please read and enjoy!

~*~

Chapter One: The Triptych Uncovered

“Allow me to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Bill Weasley!”

Everyone clapped and cheered for the bride and groom, now husband and wife, as they walked down
the aisle. When the bride and groom were gone the guests began to gather their things and leave
their seats.

Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, “You two can head along to the reception if you want. I have
to make a couple stops before we go anywhere anyway. Don't worry,” Harry said in response to
Hermione's concerned expression, “I'll be fine. I have my invisibility cloak if I need
it.”

Hermione nodded, seeming content with that, “Okay. Do you have any idea how long you will be
gone?”

Harry shrugged. “I'll be back before the reception is over, I promise.”

Ron smiled a little and patted Harry on the shoulder. “Okay, we'll see you later then,
mate.”

Harry smiled a little in return, aiming his glance mostly at Hermione, who he could tell was
worried despite the fact that she was trying very hard to hide it. Then, with a pop, he was gone,
having apparated straight to the Leaky Cauldron.

It was only the second weak of June and he was not yet of age, but Harry, realizing that he
wouldn't be able to accomplish much without the use of magic outside of school, had gone
straight to the Ministry of Magic the morning after Dumbledore's funeral. After getting his
wand checked, Harry requested a meeting with the Minister, doing something he rarely did, if ever:
He used his position as The Boy Who Lived, or The Chosen One, so he could get what he wanted, or
rather needed. Unsurprisingly, Harry found himself in the Minister's office, talking to Rufus
Scrimgeour not five minutes later.

“Okay, here's the deal,” Harry began, “I agree with you. Now, don't get your hopes up
too much.” He responded when a look of elation fell across the Minister's face. “I am still
Dumbledore's man; more than ever, in fact, but I do think that the public needs to hear certain
things.

“I'll work with you, but only under my terms,” Harry continued, “You accept this for what it
is, or I walk out this door and you will never, and I mean never, get this chance again.”

The Minister looked at him for a moment, clearly trying to figure out if Harry was, indeed
serious. Harry forced himself to keep his face stern and unreadable, “So what is your decision,
Minister?”

Scrimgeour spoke hesitantly, “What are these terms?”

“First, I want to be granted permission to practice magic, now. This includes Apparition, but I
will consent to test for it. I would also like Ronald Weasley to be able to test to. He is of age,
of course.”

“Your friend may test, but you are not of age, Mr. Potter. I'm afraid it simply isn't
possible,” The Minister seemed pleased with this.

Harry did not waver in his demand, however, “Make it possible. I'm sure you can arrange it,
*Minister.*”

Scrimgeour chose to simply move on, “I will consider it. Your other terms?”

“Stan Shunpike is to be released from Azkaban immediately and reinstated working at his job on
the Knight Bus. We both know he is innocent, Minister, and he has been locked up far too long.
Also, I will do an interview, and the story can be put in the Daily Prophet, but only if Rita
Skeeter does the interview, and Hermione Granger and Mr. Lovegood are allowed to edit it. I will
not tell any lies about the Ministry, and if I am misquoted once, I will publicly go up against
you.”

The Minister debated these requests, or rather demands, as Harry sat there. Truth be told, Harry
expected the Minister to call the whole thing off, saying sorry, but they simply don't need him
that badly. Harry was gambling that the Ministry was desperate enough for good publicity that they
would get it on any terms, even his.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, the Minister rose from his desk, extending his hand to
Harry, “Very well, Mr. Potter, I accept your terms.” Harry held back the sigh of relief that
threatened to escape him as he shook the Minister's hand.

Not wanting to waste time, the interview had been arranged for that afternoon, and Hermione had
accompanied him as Ron retested for his license. The story was written fairly well, considering it
had been Rita Skeeter who wrote it. Once edited by both Mr. Lovegood and Hermione, Harry was
pleased, and the interview would be printed in the next Daily Prophet, as well as the next edition
of the Quibbler. Harry wanted to reach everyone.

Harry had tested for his license and passed, along with Ron (who turned out to have left behind
a particular mole but the examiner didn't notice and Ron didn't miss it). Stan Shunpike was
released, thanking Harry profusely and offering him free rides on the Knight Bus for the rest of
his life.

Now Harry waved to Tom as he slipped through the Leaky Cauldron and headed to the back, tapping
that familiar brick. Upon entering Diagon Alley, Harry headed straight to Gringotts. The three
friends would be leaving after the reception and Harry knew that it would definitely be a good idea
to have some money on him since he wasn't sure when he would be back.

Before Harry could make it to Gringotts, however, he saw a commotion near Weasley's Wizard
Wheezes and was distracted. Not thinking, Harry headed toward the store in a hurry, pushing through
a crowd of people to get to the front, where Fred and George were standing, talking to the local
Enforcers. “What's going on?” Harry asked the twins.

George turned to Harry as Fred continued talking to the man in uniform. “We've been
robbed!”

“By who?” Harry asked, rather stupidly.

George didn't seem to mind the question, though, and simply shrugged. “We don't know. We
were at the reception when suddenly this man here showed up and told us. There isn't even much
missing. Just some shield hats and gloves, along with some of our decoy detonators and instant
darkness powder.” At this Fred finished talking to the man, who continued taking notes, and turned
to them.

“We reckon it was just someone who's a little shaken up by all of the danger. Figure they
couldn't afford it so they took it. If it was a major robber there would be some money missing
from the register, and we'd expect them to have taken many more products.” Fred said with a
shrug.

“The Enforcers are still going to look into it, though, right?” Harry asked and the twins
nodded.

“So why are you here, mate? We didn't see you at the reception,” George noticed.

It was Harry's turn to shrug, “I just came down to pick up some gold at Gringotts, before
we, you know…” Fred and George had been let in on the fact that Harry, Hermione, and Ron would be
leaving after the reception.

They nodded knowingly. Fred spoke seriously, “Has Ron told Mum yet?”

Harry shook his head, “I don't think so. I figure he reckons that if he tells her right
before we leave she has less time to persuade him not to. I mean, she can't really stop him,
since he's of age.”

“You know that when he makes that argument she's going to point out that you aren't of
age, right?” George asked.

Harry nodded, “But I'm not her son. I know she likes to consider herself my honorary mother,
but, well, she's not.”

“You don't have to tell us, mate,” Fred said, now closing the store up as the crowd
dissipated, “But that doesn't mean she wont try.”

“I know. You two want to come with me to Gringotts quick and we can go back to the reception
together?” Both twins shrugged and nodded.

So the three of them headed into the bank, Harry pulling out his key as they stepped inside.
Ensuring that this would be a quick trip, Harry had gotten clearance from the Ministry a week ago
when they had gone to visit Mr. Weasley so he wouldn't have to spend five hours waiting to get
his money. He headed straight to the goblin that he had been told to speak to, setting his key on
the counter as Fred and George came up behind him. “I wish to make a withdrawal.” The goblin nodded
and stepped out from behind the counter and led them to one of the small carts heading down to
Harry's vault.

When they reached it the goblin opened the door as the three stepped out. “Wow,” Fred and George
said together.

“Yeah, I know it's a lot, but…whoa,” Harry looked up in disbelief. Harry had forgotten that
all of Sirius's things had been transferred into his vault. Not only had his already small
fortune tripled in size, but also there were what seemed to be some Black family heirlooms. “Well,
come on,” Harry said, heading into the vault with Fred and George shortly behind him.

Quickly taking a reasonably large amount of gold and putting it in his moneybag Harry turned to
Fred and George, who were looking at what appeared to be three necklaces, talking in soft voices to
each other.

“Are those…”

“I think so…”

“But I thought that they…”

“Me too.”

Harry looked at them, “What?”

George looked up, “Harry, have you always had these?”

Harry shook his head, “No, I only had my parents' gold in here before. This was all moved in
with the Black Family Fortune, I believe.”

Fred, still looking at the necklaces, let out a low whistle, “I can't believe it, the
Triptych.”

“Pardon?” Harry asked, having no clue what they were talking about.

“The Triptych,” Fred, now facing Harry, repeated, “Awhile ago at Hogwarts, George, Lee, and I
were looking for ways to communicate with each other when we couldn't use floo or owls, such as
when trying to pull off a large prank,” He said with a happy reminiscent smile.

George continued, “When we were looking up things in the library, we found information on
these,” he motioned to the three necklaces, “the Triptych. Essentially, they bind the three people
wearing them together. They can be removed at any time, but only by the wearer, if he or she is
still alive, and only if they want to.”

“So no one can make you take them off, like a teacher or something,” Fred said.

“Or dark forces,” Harry said just above a whisper.

“Exactly,” George went on, “It only works if three people are each wearing a necklace. When it
works, the necklaces allow the wearers to do all kinds of things. I don't remember what
exactly, but I reckon if you ask Hermione, she'd know. That girl's a walking encyclopedia,
she is.”

Harry smiled with pride like he always did when people complimented Hermione's brainpower.
“Yeah, I'll ask her when we get back,” Fred and George nodded.

“We're not even positive that these are the real thing,” Fred said, “When we read about them
the book said that no one's seen the Triptych for nearly a thousand years. Everyone figures
they've been destroyed.”

Harry shrugged, putting the glass back over the necklaces and exiting the vault. “Well,
let's get going, then. I expect Hermione will figure it out.”

Once the three of them had apparated to the reception in the Burrow's back yard, Harry
pulled Hermione aside, not wanting to bother Ron, who was in the middle of dancing with Fleur.

“What is it, Harry? Is something wrong?” Hermione asked with concern.

“No. I don't think so. I doubt it,” Harry said in a hurry as he pulled her up the stairs to
the room he and Ron shared, closing the door behind him. He went and sat on his bed; pointing to
the spot in front of him, “Sit down,” he said.

Hermione seemed to hesitate for a moment before she did as he asked, sitting about a foot in
front of him, pulling her legs up under her as Harry sat with his legs crossed pretzel style. “So
what's this all about?” She asked curiously.

“Have you ever heard of the Triptych?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded, “Of course, who hasn't?”

Harry tried to ignore how dumb he felt at that comment, “I think I have it.”

Hermione gasped, “How? Is that what you went to do? Harry how did you manage it? Wait, what do
you mean you think you have it?” Hermione asked rather quickly and Harry struggled to keep up.

Harry shook his head, “No, I just went to Diagon Alley to get some money, but I ran into Fred
and George…”

“Oh that's right they were robbed! Was everything okay?” Hermione asked with concern.

Harry nodded, “Just some of the Defense products were taken. Anyway, they came with me to
Gringotts and while I was putting some gold in my bag they noticed the Triptych, or what may be the
Triptych.”

Hermione gasped again, “But how did it get into your vault?”

Harry shrugged, “All of the Black Family Fortune was moved in there as well as some other
heirlooms. I suppose that would be where it came from.”

Hermione's brow furrowed as she thought, “But why would they have it?”

“I don't know,” Harry said, “But I was just wondering if you could come with me down there
some time so we can figure this out.”

“Sure,” Hermione replied seemingly distracted for a moment before snapping out of it, “Speaking
of which, could you come with me to my parents' house in a bit while Ron talks to Mrs. Weasley?
I figure we can get it all done with at once. Plus, if you come with me Mrs. Weasley can't try
to stop you, and, between you and me, my parents like you better than Ron. Don't ask me
why.”

Harry stopped himself from asking if that was an insult, “They do?”

Hermione was about to reply when the door burst open, causing Hermione to jump and Harry
instinctively move into a protective position in front of her, wand at the ready. Looking at who
was at the door, both Harry and Hermione let out sighs of relief, Harry settling back down next to
Hermione. “Ron, Ginny, you scared us!” Hermione said next to Harry, who was chuckling now,
remembering the little squeak Hermione let out in her moment of shock. Hermione noticed his
laughter and turned to him, stern, “What on earth is so funny?”

Harry stopped laughing and smiled at her, “You, Hermione Granger, just squeaked.”

Hermione looked surprised. “I did not!”

“Did too.”

“Did no- Oh, this is silly. I know for a fact that I do not squeak, and look who's talking.
You're the one who jumped in front of me and pulled your wand on your best friend and
girlfriend!”

At this Harry and Ginny exchanged an uneasy glance. “Actually, no. Me and Ginny broke up,” Harry
said. Hermione looked at him in disbelief, turning to Ginny for confirmation as Ron did the same
thing. Ginny simply nodded and then smiled and shrugged a little, trying to show them that it was
okay with her.

“It's okay guys, we talked about it,” Ginny said, “Anyway, I just came with Ron to help him
find you two. Now that you have been found doing Merlin knows what I'm going to head back to
the party before all of the cake's gone.” With that she turned around and headed back down the
stairs.

Ron looked at Harry with murder in his eyes, and this time it was Harry's turn to jump and
hide behind Hermione. “Ron…” Harry said, trying to calm his friend down.

“You…you better have an explanation, Harry,” Ron said, slowly walking towards the bed, Harry
holding Hermione's shoulders now and putting his head behind her back. What was it that Dudley
always called in that game to keep Harry from beating him? It began with an s. What was it
though?

“Sanctuary! Sanctuary!” Harry cried in desperation, causing Hermione to laugh.

“Harry! Do you even know what that means?” Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head, “It always worked for Dudley.”

Hermione laughed again, “Since when do you take tips from Dudley? Besides, I am neither a church
or cathedral, so how can I be your sanctuary?”

Harry thought a moment, “You're my safe place, Hermione. Sanctuary!” Harry cried again as
Ron stood two feet from them.

Hermione blushed a little and rolled her eyes, holding up two fingers in a sign of peace and
addressed Ron, “I suppose he's right enough for now. This man is under the protection of
sanctuary,” She turned her head back to Harry, who's face had a tight wince on it, “But
don't expect me to let you get away with this again. I refuse to be your human shield. And
don't look at me like that.” Harry had put on a sweet smile in an attempt to please her, “I
wont fall for it, Harry,” she said sternly.

Ron, seeming deflated due to their lack of paying attention to him, sat on the bed heavily, “Did
you hurt her?”

Harry sat up again next to Hermione and shook his head, “No, I did it to protect her.
There's no need to make her a target. It's bad enough that you two are.” Harry stood up
when Ron nodded, seeming temporarily pleased with this answer. “That cake sounds tempting. I'm
going to go get some. Meet me down there in a few minutes and we can go, okay?” Hermione nodded and
Harry left the room, heading downstairs.

He found Ginny next to the dance floor, where a slow dance was playing, and walked up to her.
“Want to dance?” he asked, holding his hand out to her. Ginny looked up and nodded, smiling a
little as Harry led her to the dance floor, placing an arm around her waist and holding her other
hand gently.

“Is it really okay?” Harry asked, looking down at her.

Ginny nodded, “Yes. I hate to admit it to myself, but I don't think I loved you, or that I
ever would.” Harry opened his mouth to speak, but she gently placed a finger on it. “I've
thought a lot about this, Harry, so please let me talk. I mean, I did like you from the moment I
meant you. Or, rather, I liked The Boy Who Lived. Over the years I got to know you, but still, when
I looked at you, it was through fogged-up glasses.

“It wasn't until these last few weeks, when we were together, that I actually got to know
you. Just Harry. If you hadn't broken up with me, I would have stayed with you, no doubt, but
I'm glad you did break up with me. Once you did, I started to see that we were only ever
friends. Good friends, but that's it.”

“But we…” Harry began but she cut him off.

“Yes, we kissed, I know,” she smiled a little, “And you are a very good kisser, may I say,”
Harry blushed and grinned, “But once you get past the kissing, what were we? We never really talked
or anything like real couples, did we? I'd be willing to bet that you talked more to Hermione
when we were together than you talked to me.”

“Hermione's my friend…”

“I know. I'm not jealous like Cho, trust me,” she made a face, “I'm simply pointing it
out. Besides, I know you felt, or feel the same way I do, even if you don't want to admit
it.”

Harry didn't say anything, but just kept dancing. What did she mean? He had felt something
for her, something real. He still felt something for her! And so what if he happened to talk to
Hermione more than he talked to her. He'd been talking to Hermione since he was eleven, he was
used to it. Who said couples had to talk? As the song came to a close Ginny kissed Harry on the
cheek and went off to dance with one of her brothers.

Harry turned around to see Hermione sitting in the chair Ginny had vacated, looking at him
intently. Harry sighed a little to himself and stood in front of her, “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replied, standing up inches before him, “Are you okay?”

Harry shrugged and nodded, “Where's Ron?”

“He's talking to Mrs. Weasley, since the reception's almost over.”

“Is all of our stuff already there?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I asked Tonks and Remus to take care of it this morning.”

“Are you ready to go?”

Hermione smiled weakly, “Yes. It will be hard to make them understand what is going on.”

“That's okay,” Harry said, “We should leave a note for Ron so he knows where we are.”

Hermione smiled, “I already told him. Do you need to grab anything before we go?”

Harry shook his head. Hermione nodded, “Okay, well then take my arm since you don't know
where it is.”

Harry gently took a hold of her arm and immediately got that familiar feeling of being cork
stuffed in a bottle. Harry vaguely heard a *pop* and they were gone.

~*~

A/N: I want to thank my fabulous beta, Dedi! You rock Dedi!. Like I said, please rate (when you
can) and review!

-->



2. Advice, Consent, and Craziness
---------------------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Author's Note: Okay, guys, here's chapter two. This was a bit difficult to write, mainly
because a lot happens, but at the same time very little happens (though all of it is necessary).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy, as always, and please take about 30 seconds and drop a review when
you're done!

~*~

Chapter 2: Advice, Consent, and Craziness

Harry waited a moment before opening his eyes. His first reaction was surprise at finding
himself inside a rather large estate. “Is this your house?”

Hermione beamed, “Yes, isn't it beautiful?”

Harry found himself lacking an appropriate response. Indeed, from what Harry could see, the
house appeared to have been professionally decorated. “It's so…so…” Harry struggled to find the
word for what he was looking for.

“Big?” Hermione supplied. Harry laughed and nodded. Big was an understatement. “Yes, I know. My
parents are among the best dentists in Europe. Plus, they love what they do and without me around
can work as much as they like. My dad once inspected the teeth of Princess Diana before she married
Prince Charles. He likes to say that he gave her that beautiful smile.” Hermione smiled with
obvious pride.

“Princess Diana?” Harry asked, not knowing whom this was.

Hermione seemed about to explain before changing her mind, “It's not important. Mom? Dad?
I'm here!” She called out into the massive hallway.

Not a moment later two people who Harry recognized as the Grangers came walking in. “Hermione,
dear! This is a surprise,” Mrs. Granger said, embracing her. “Oh, and you must be Harry, am I
right?” She asked, turning to him as her husband embraced Hermione.

Harry smiled politely and shook her hand, “Yes, I am. It's very nice to finally meet you,
Mrs. Granger. Of course I've seen you in Diagon Alley before.”

The middle-aged woman blushed and smiled, “Yes, I recall seeing you as well. You've grown up
a lot, and my, such manners!”

Hermione's dad turned to Harry, clearly sizing him up, “It's nice to meet you,
Harry.”

Harry shook the man's hand firmly, “Likewise, Mr. Granger.”

Hermione wasted no time getting to the point. “Mom…Dad…we need to talk.”

Harry watched as the Grangers exchanged a panicked glance before Mrs. Granger spoke, “What is
it, honey?”

Hermione smiled reassuringly and led them all into what Harry thought could only be called a
sitting room, as it only contained a few couches and side tables and lighting, the couches facing
each other so the occupants could carry on a conversation. Harry and Hermione sat on one couch and
the Grangers sat on the one opposite of them. Hermione took a deep breath before speaking, “I'm
not going back to Hogwarts this year.”

The Grangers stared at her in shock for a moment, “You're…dropping out?” Hermione's
father asked.

Hermione shook her head. “No, it's not like that at all,” The Grangers became visibly
relieved, “Do you remember all of those things I told you about Harry and V-Voldemort?” Harry
inwardly applauded Hermione for using the name, something she had only done once or twice before.
The Grangers nodded. “Well, Harry needs to face him eventually, you see, and when he does he has to
be prepared. He has things that he needs to do before any of this happens, too. Ron and I want to
help him. That is to say, we're going with him.”

Mrs. Granger turned to Harry, no accusation in her eyes, but rather innocent wondering or
curiosity, “Did you ask them to do this?”

Hermione answered for Harry, “No, we offered,” she turned and glanced at Harry for a moment
before turning back to her parents, “Harry would never ask us to do something like that. Besides,”
she went on, “Hogwarts may be closing anyway. I'd be much better off with Ron and Harry, and
even if I wasn't, Harry needs us, and we need him.”

The Grangers looked between the two of them before Hermione's father spoke hesitantly, “When
are you leaving?”

Hermione looked down at her hands, “Now.”

Harry looked up, hearing Hermione's mother emit a strangled sob. Something occurred to him
in that moment. Going to Hogwarts was never a big deal to him, for he never left anything behind.
His family, his true family, was at Hogwarts, in the wizarding world. The Weasley's didn't
think much of it either, because this is how it had always been for them, they didn't know of
anything different. For the Grangers, however, it was another thing entirely. Muggle families
weren't accustomed to this. It was one thing to find out your daughter has magical powers.
It's another thing entirely to find out that you may never see her for more than a month or two
out of the year ever again.

Mr. Granger seemed to study Hermione for a moment, thinking, “We can't stop you… can we?” he
finally asked in a defeated tone, “You've already decided.”

Hermione nodded, “This is something that I have to do, Dad. Something that we all have to do.”
Harry could tell how difficult this was for her and gently laid his hand on hers, if nothing else
than to remind her that he was there. She turned her head and smiled at him gratefully.

Mrs. Granger stood and walked over to her daughter, who stood as well, “Will you write?”

Hermione nodded, hugging her mother, “Whenever I can, I promise.”

Mr. Granger stood and embraced his daughter as well. “Be safe,” he told her. When they let go he
turned to Harry, who was now standing as well, “Take care of my daughter, Harry.”

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh, “I'm capable of taking care of myself, Dad.”

Harry ignored her response and nodded his head, “I will, Sir.”

Mr. Granger made a brave attempt at a smile, “Well, then, you two better get going. The world
needs saving.”

Hermione laughed, “Oh yes, duty awaits.” She turned to Harry, “Where are we apparating to?”

“We should apparate to the Burrow,” Harry said, “We can saying goodbye to everyone, and get Ron.
I expect Mrs. Weasley will want to have a word with us, as well.”

Hermione smiled and gave her parents one last hug and kiss goodbye. “Okay, let's go.”
Hermione waved to her parents as she and Harry disapparated.

Back at the Burrow, the reception had wound down quite a bit. Only the family was left, mingling
with each other in the back yard. Upon noticing them, Ron ran up to Harry and Hermione. “You guys
wouldn't believe Mum! She's mental I tell you! Absolutely…”

“Harry! Hermione!” The familiar voice of Mrs. Weasley greeted the teenagers' ears. “Ron,
there you are! Where did you go? Never mind, could the three of you come with me for a moment?” The
three friends exchanged a glance before following Mrs. Weasley into the kitchen.

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley?” Hermione asked when they were all inside and Mrs. Weasley had closed the
door.

“Sit down, please,” Mrs. Weasley said sweetly. They did as she said, sitting next to each other
at the table, opposite of where she was standing. “Are any of you thirsty? Do you want something to
drink?”

“No thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry replied.

Mrs. Weasley sighed, “Alright then, I suppose I should just get on with it. I just wanted to say
to you three that I am very proud of you,” she said quickly.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a shared look of shock before Ron muttered, “I told you, mental.
She's gone totally bonkers.”

“Oh hush,” Mrs. Weasley gently swatted Ron on the shoulder, “Now, I don't exactly approve of
you three going off on your own, Harry not even being age, but I don't have a hold on the two
of you,” She nodded to Hermione and Harry, “since I'm not your mother,” she added sadly.

She went on, facing them with a stern expression, “I trust that you will ask for help if you
need it, and write regularly so I don't worry. I'm letting you go, but that doesn't
mean I don't care. Please don't make me regret this.” She finished and swiped at her face,
carefully concealing her bloodshot eyes.

Harry, without understanding why he was doing it or bothering to question it, stood and gave
Mrs. Weasley a hug, and said, “We can't thank you enough, Mrs. Weasley, for everything.
You've been a wonderful mother to Ron and a like a mother to Hermione and me.” Harry pulled
back and looked at her, facing down since he was now taller than her, “I think we can manage to
send an owl once in awhile,” Harry added with a smile.

Mrs. Weasley was positively bawling now, pulling Hermione and Ron into the next hug along with
Harry. “I'm going to miss you three.”

Hermione smiled, wiping a tear from her face as well, “We'll miss you, too.”

After a moment the four of them turned to the door, facing the back yard, where the rest of the
Weasleys were talking to each other animatedly about something or other. Mrs. Weasley nudged them,
“Do you think you could tell them goodbye?”

They nodded and opened the door and entered the back yard, everyone looking up to see them.

“Hey, Harry!” Fred shouted, breaking the ice. “Are you guys leaving?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered back a little quietly, “We just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Leefing?” Fleur asked, “But ver are you going? Vy are you going?”

“Oh, you know the story,” George said with a smile at the three friends, “The great trio is off
to go fight evil, side by side.”

Ginny looked up at Hermione, “Is this true?”

Hermione nodded with a weak smile, saying, “I suppose that's one way to put it.”

Ginny stayed seated for a moment before abruptly jumping up and running to Hermione, pulling her
into a friendly and bone-crushing hug. She then turned to Ron and hugged him the same way. When she
came to Harry, she gave him a hug, though considerably lighter than the ones she gave Hermione and
Ron. She looked up at him with an unreadable expression. She seemed to think about what she wanted
to say for a moment before speaking, “Just…don't get yourself killed, okay?”

Harry nodded, frowning slightly since he was still trying to read her face, “Okay.”

There was a brief pause before all of the Weasleys were rushing to them, giving them the same
bone-crushing hugs and saying goodbyes. When it was all over, the three said one final goodbye to
the group before apparating to the destination Harry had set.

Slowly they climbed out from inside the bushes, crossing the playground and beginning their walk
down the path that seemed suddenly so familiar to Harry. The sun was setting, and as darkness began
to cover the neighborhood, Harry moved closer to Hermione, who was between him and Ron. He
wasn't scared, but he definitely felt better when he could almost feel her next to him. After
several minutes, Ron spoke, “How much further mate?”

“It's this next one I think,” Harry stopped and pointlessly checked the address on the
house. Like he could forget which one it was. “Yeah, this is it.” They turned and headed up the
walkway, Harry lifting the silver brass knocker once they reached the door. They waited silently
for a few moments before Harry lifted his hand back up, about to knock again. However it wasn't
necessary, because at that moment the door was opened.

“Hello, Aunt Petunia,” Harry said, not wasting any time. “As I already told you, we'll be
staying the night. I assume our things are already here?” Harry asked and his aunt nodded.

“What time will you be leaving tomorrow?” She asked somewhat timidly, wrapping her night robe
tighter around her.

Harry shrugged, and he was about to ask her why she cared when Hermione spoke, “Mrs. Dursley we
will try not to disturb you and your husband and leave as soon as possible.” Harry and Ron both
turned to her in shock, but she merely shrugged in return.

Petunia seemed to study Hermione for a moment, “Okay, then. Come on in.” She opened the door and
ushered them in. Harry was about to lead his friends up the stairs, but to his surprise his aunt
led them down the main hallway.

Harry had not gone down this hallway in a long time. There were only three things in this
hallway. His aunt and uncle's master bedroom, Dudley's equally large bedroom, and
Harry's old cupboard under the stairs. Just walking in this direction made Harry feel sick to
his stomach. Hermione seemed to have noticed and sent him a curious glance, but then she noticed
the door to under the stairs and gasped. “Is that…?” She began in a whisper and Harry nodded, not
looking her in the eyes.

“Excuse me, Aunt Petunia, but why are we going this way. Surely you aren't planning to…”
Harry couldn't fathom the thought that his relatives actually believed that three adolescents
and their things could fit into that tiny cupboard for one whole night.

“You'll be staying in Dudders' room tonight,” Petunia cut him off. When they reached the
door she opened it and Harry nearly lost his breath for a moment when he saw what was inside.

Dudley's room had always been full of things. When he was a baby, it was full of stuffed
animals, baby items, and expensive diapers. When he was a young boy, it had always been full of the
priciest toys around, loads of them. There were toy guns, rocket launchers, army figures,
dartboards, and other paraphernalia; more than enough to make Harry jealous as he sat in his
cupboard and listened to his cousin playing. As a teenager the room was full of stereo equipment, a
television, stolen items, a real gun, and mementos from some of his favorite victims (with a
shudder Harry realized just how much his cousin was like Tom Riddle).

But now as Harry looked around the room he could scarcely tell that his cousin had ever lived in
it. If it weren't for the stains on the carpet and scorch marks on the ceiling Harry wondered
if he would have been able to tell if anyone had ever lived in this room. All that was in it now
were three bedded cots and their luggage.

Harry couldn't help himself as curiosity flooded him, “Where's Dudley sleeping?”

Aunt Petunia didn't seem to want to answer this question, “Dudders…Dudley is staying with
his Aunt Marge for a while until he… until things get better,” the sad finality of her tone
prevented Harry from asking any more questions.

Harry stepped into the room, selecting the middle cot and Hermione and Ron followed behind him.
“Okay, well, thank you, I suppose.” Harry said to his aunt, realizing that this may have been the
most the two of them had spoken to each other in years. Petunia nodded in response and left the
room, closing the door behind her. They each sat down on the cot they had chosen.

As soon as the three of them heard the door to the master bedroom close Ron rounded on Hermione,
“What were you thinking?” He exclaimed quietly.

Hermione clearly didn't know what he was talking about, “What do you mean, what was I
thinking?”

“Pretending to be polite to Harry's aunt! Did you inhale one of Fred and George's
experiments and it made you loopy?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Yes, that must be it, Ron. I'm high on an experiment! Has it
occurred to you that maybe a little politeness goes a long way? Besides, I wasn't pretending to
be anything; maybe I'm just polite by nature.” Ron snorted. “And what's that supposed to
mean?”

Ron snorted again, much more obviously this time, “Just that, in the time I've known you,
you have been anything but `naturally polite,' as you put it.”

“Oh yeah, because you are so…”

“Stop it,” Harry spoke at last. The pair looked at him as if shocked to see he was still there,
which was stupid since he was right between them. “Look, I know you two have pent up…whatever, but
please listen to me. I'm honored that you guys want to join me on my journey, but if you are
going to bicker like this the whole time I'm sorry, you can't come.”

Hermione seemed about to cry and Ron looked angry and hurt at the same time. “I'm not saying
this to be mean,” Harry continued before either of them could speak, “This is for your own good.
What we're trying to do is going to be very dangerous, and none of us can afford to have any
distractions.”

Harry turned to Hermione, suddenly feeling very sad and guilty as she stared back at him, trying
to keep the tears from escaping her eyes, “I promised your father that I would take care of you. If
that means leaving you behind so that you and I will both be safe, I will do it, and I wont
hesitate. Honestly, though, I really don't want to do that, because I need you with me,
Hermione.”

Harry turned to Ron, who looked less angry now, “And I need you, too. So please, can you two
just learn to get along like the best friends you are?” Harry asked, looking between the two of
them, each of them nodding weakly. “Good,” Harry said, and then smiled. “Now how about we get some
sleep, because I'm knackered.”

Ron smiled in return now, and Hermione laughed a little, speaking, “Okay, I'm going to use
the closet to change, and you two can change out here.” Harry and Ron shrugged and nodded as
Hermione pulled her nightclothes out of her trunk and walked into the closet.

Harry and Ron quickly changed into their pajamas and got into their cots, Hermione coming out
after a moment and turning off the light, then getting into her cot as well. “Good night,” Hermione
said.

“Good night,” Harry answered.

“'Night,” Ron replied.

The three of them became very quiet, which made sense since they were supposed to be trying to
sleep. Harry however was wide-awake. He stared up at the ceiling for many minutes, attempting to
count the amount of little dots in the paint. Once many minutes had passed and he still
couldn't sleep, Harry sighed loudly, annoyed.

“Harry?” a voice whispered and Harry froze, mentally slapping himself for his stupidity.

“Sorry, Hermione, did I wake you up?” Harry asked, turning on his side to face her.

Hermione, who was already facing him, shook her head, “No. Are you having trouble sleeping,
too?” Harry nodded, and Hermione strained her neck to see over him, “Ron? Are you still awake?”
Hermione asked. Ron, however, simply replied with a light snore.

Harry laughed, “Figures. I think Ron could sleep through and earthquake if he wanted to.”

Hermione chuckled softly, “You're probably right. Why are you still up?”

Harry shrugged, “I don't know, I just don't feel very tired. Why are you still up?”

Hermione sighed, “I miss my parents. I'm also a little nervous about all of this, to be
honest.”

“Oh, Hermione, you could have said…” Harry felt guilty for not even checking to make sure his
friends were still okay.

“I know, Harry. I'll be fine, don't worry. It's just; I know that what we're
doing is dangerous this time. Every other time I was just vaguely aware that it could be dangerous.
This time it's definitely dangerous, and there's a very real chance of not coming out of it
alive.”

“No there isn't,” Harry replied before thinking about it.

“How can you even say that?” Hermione asked, “We're going up against one of the greatest
dark wizards of all time, Harry. A person doesn't get a title like that for no reason.”

“It doesn't matter.” Harry replied.

“What do you mean?” Hermione responded.

Harry looked her in the eyes now, “Because it doesn't matter who it is. I'm not letting
them hurt you, Hermione, or Ron, for that matter. Besides, I'm not ready to die, so you
shouldn't be, either.”

Hermione sighed, “I'm not ready to die, Harry. I'm just trying to look at the reality of
the situation. And you better do like Ginny said and keep yourself from getting killed. What?”
Hermione asked as Harry's expression changed. “What is it, Harry?”

Harry turned on his back and faced the ceiling again, “She broke up with me earlier, when we
were dancing.”

Hermione remained silent for a moment, “But I thought that you were already broken up.”

“We were. I broke up with her at Dumbledore's funeral. But today, she got to have her say.
She made it final.”

“What did she say?”

Harry shrugged, “A lot of things. She pretty much told me that she had always had a crush on The
Boy Who Lived, and had no interest dating Harry, and that we're only friends. She said that
real couple talk more than we did, and that I talk to you more than her, which I thought made sense
since you and I are best friends,” Harry stopped and thought for a moment, “Oh, and she said I was
a good kisser,” Harry added as an afterthought.

Hermione suddenly got up and sat next to Harry on his cot, looking down at him as he laid there,
“You did understand what that was, right?”

Harry looked up at Hermione and her flannel pajamas, “Um…no?”

Hermione exhaled sharply, “She's in denial!”

Harry sat up, “You think so?”

“Definitely,” Hermione replied, “Plus, if I know Ginny, she felt it was unfair that you got to
break up with her. It's that Weasley personality,” Hermione rolled her eyes with a glance over
at Ron's cot, “She probably felt the need to get you back and have her say.” She got up and got
back into her bed, lying down, Harry doing the same.

“You're probably right, Hermione. Thanks,” Harry said, stifling a yawn.

“You welcome. Good night, Harry,” Hermione replied.

“Good night, Hermione,” Harry whispered, and a few minutes later both of them were fast
asleep.

~*~

A/N: Okay, hopefully you all enjoyed that. Don't worry, this is Portkey, and it's a H/Hr
story. Just give it time. Please Review!!! (And if you don't like the chapter title blame my
awesome beta, Dedi, lol.)

Also, I want to get this out of the way right now. I've read a lot of stories where the
author is constantly giving excuses for not posting as often as the readers would like. I'll
just tell you now, I will always get the chapter to you as quick as possible and I will never
abandon this, so don't worry. I promise that if it takes me a little longer to get a chapter
out I have a good reason. Sometimes I wont have a lot of time, but I will use the time I do have to
write, and you also have to remember that sometimes Dedi may be busy and it may take her a day or
two to get back to me with her edits. Anyway, I just thought I'd get that over with right now
so you don't have to worry later!

More to come soon! :)

-->



3. Petunia Gone Bonkers
-----------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Rating: PG13 (Yes, I upped it, just to be safe. It wasn't necessarily for this chapter, but
I figured I might as well do it now.)

Author's Note: Okay, sorry it took a bit longer. I was arranging a new beta (who rocks, as
does my other beta) as well as preparing for the start of marching season (proud band member!) and
classes again. That said, I wrote almost 2500 words of Chapter 4 (I do believe that's a
personal record) the other day while waiting to get Chapter 3 back from Dedi, and am hoping to get
it to you guys very soon. Enjoy the chapter and (*nudge nudge wink wink*) be sure to vote in the
Felix Felices Competition!

~*~

Chapter 3: Petunia Gone Bonkers

~*~

Harry woke up the next morning unexpectedly well rested. After a moment, he realized he had
woken up by a knock on the door. Before Harry could even get out of bed, however, Hermione was
already up and across the room, opening the door.

“Yes, Mrs. Dursley? Did you want to speak to Harry?” Harry couldn't hear his Aunt's
response, but simply watched as Hermione listened and nodded. “Okay, just hold on for a moment,
please.” Harry's aunt uttered a reply and Hermione gently closed the door.

Harry stared at Hermione as she rummaged through her trunk and pulled out a neatly folded
bathrobe, pulling it on over her pajamas. “What are you doing?” Harry asked.

Hermione looked up, startled, apparently not having realized that Harry was awake. “Your aunt
wanted to speak to me about something, and the house is a bit cold right now.”

Harry shook his head. Did she honestly think this was about the bathrobe? “Why does she want to
talk to you? And what about?”

“I don't know, Harry. She didn't tell me.” Hermione replied as she closed her trunk
again.

“But…” Harry tried to think of something else to say as Hermione made her way to the door, “But
why does she want to talk to you and not me?” Harry questioned.

Hermione shrugged. “Again, I don't know, Harry. Of course, if I had to guess,” Harry could
tell that she had already thought this through, “I think she's rather afraid of us, and maybe
my `fake politeness'” Hermione sent an angry glance in Ron's direction even though he was
sound asleep, “yesterday made her feel a bit more comfortable. Anyway, wake Ron up and get dressed
while I'm gone, okay?” Harry barely managed to nod before Hermione was out the door, closing it
behind her.

Harry turned to Ron, who was still snoring roughly. Getting out of his cot, Harry stood and
leaned over Ron's. “Ron…” Harry began shaking his friend's shoulder, realizing with a bit
of disgust the line of drool that was leaking out of his mouth. “Ron…” Harry said again, this time
a bit louder. Of course, Ron remained blissfully asleep. Losing his patience, Harry smacked Ron
across the head just like Ron had done to him the previous summer, “Ron!”

“I'm up!” Ron suddenly exclaimed, his eyes snapping open as he sat up abruptly. He turned
and looked at Harry, who was already on the other side of his own cot, pulling some clothes out of
his trunk. “Bloody hell, Harry, what did you have to hit me for?”

“You wouldn't wake up,” replied Harry simply as he began pulling on a fresh pair of pants.
“Apparently hitting you works, so I think I'll consider using it from now on.” Harry pulled his
shirt off and sat on his cot to put on his socks and shoes.

Ron rubbed his head, mumbling under his breath, “Yeah, well maybe I'll consider…” He walked
over to his trunk and began dressing as well. He put on a pair of pants and some shoes and socks,
changing his shirt as Harry spoke.

“What was that, Ron?” Harry asked with a smile just as Hermione walked in.

“Oh, sorry!” She exclaimed, blushing at the sight of her two topless friends.

Ron apparently didn't realize the cause of her embarrassment (Harry guessed that he was
still half asleep). “Nah, you don't have to be sorry, Hermione. It's him who should be
sorry.” Ron pulled a shirt over his head.

Her embarrassment quickly forgotten, Hermione glanced at Harry suspiciously, speaking to Ron.
“And why should Harry be sorry?”

Ron grabbed a comb and ran it through his hair quickly, “He hit me, that's why.”

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed.

Harry shrugged, putting on his belt and then pulling his own shirt over his head. “It's not
my fault that hitting him is what it takes to get him up.”

Hermione sighed, “Perhaps you could come up with better ways to wake him up from now on?” Harry
nodded, combing his own hair quickly before packing up his trunk. Hermione took her clothes out and
went into the closet as she had the night before, exiting a minute later with her night clothes in
hand, putting them in her trunk and closing it, pulling a brush out first.

“So where were you, Hermione?” Ron asked, sitting on his cot as she put her hair into a
ponytail.

Hermione winced as her brush reached a tangle. “I was talking to Harry's aunt.” She turned
to Harry. “She says we can eat breakfast here before we leave.”

“That's all she wanted to talk about?” Ron asked. “Breakfast?”

Hermione nodded, but Harry could easily spot that she was lying. Ron seemed to accept it,
however. “So do you think we should eat here, then, Harry?” Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged, “I suppose it makes sense. I don't see why she's offering, though. Are
we talking about the same person here?” Harry tried to wrap his mind around the idea that his aunt
was being somewhat decent to them.

“Maybe the reality that she'll never see you again makes her realize that she'll miss
you. I mean, if you haven't noticed, her own son isn't around, either.” Hermione said.

“Yeah. I've been wondering about that. Perhaps he finally got himself into some real trouble
and they had to ship him off. Still, I doubt that she'll miss me. Hey, maybe Aunt Marge is
serving Dudley to her dog.” Harry added with a tiny smile before he could stop himself.

“Harry! That's horrible!” Hermione scolded. Harry shrugged.

“Hey, so are we eating or what?” Ron asked. Harry and Hermione smiled at him and the three or
them headed into the kitchen.

Breakfast was relatively quiet for the most part. Harry was having some trouble eating, having
been a bit thrown off by Aunt Petunia's lack of verbal abuse. After awhile, Harry even started
trying to give her reasons to scold him. He made soft slurping sounds when he drank his orange
juice, and he kept his elbows firmly on the table during the entire meal. However, none of this
seemed to bother his aunt, who was quietly eating, occasionally glancing at the teenagers. All that
this seemed to accomplish was some annoyed glances from Hermione. The only thing that kept Harry
from thinking that he had gone totally around the bend was that his uncle seemed to despise him
just as much as he always had. This comforted Harry in an odd way.

Towards the end of the meal Aunt Petunia addressed Harry at last, “Will your headmaster be
picking you three up?”

Hermione and Ron stopped eating and looked at Harry, who slowly finished chewing his piece of
bacon before answering, “Um, no, Aunt Petunia.” He didn't feel the need to explain to her
why.

Of course, this did not stop her. Being the gossip she was, Petunia was curious by nature,
“Why?”

Harry glanced at his friends and then replied, “Well, he, erm, died last month.”

Harry wasn't sure what he expected to see in his aunt's reaction, but it was certainly
not the distress that immediately overcame her face. “He…died?”

Uncle Vernon, however, was completely clueless about his wife's reaction, and simply
snorted, “Good riddance.”

Harry was standing with his wand out over his uncle so fast that he couldn't even remember
precisely how he did it. All he remembered was pointing his wand at his uncle threateningly, “You
will never say something like that again.”

Uncle Vernon became angry as well, “I will say what I please in my house, boy.”

Harry was just about to curse him when he felt a comforting hand on his elbow. Keeping his wand
in place, Harry turned to see Hermione staring back at him. “No, don't,” was all she said.

Harry didn't know exactly what it was, but as he looked at Hermione he felt his temper begin
to fade away. He slowly lowered his wand and sat back down. “Just don't talk about things you
don't understand.” He told his uncle.

Aunt Petunia looked puzzled and sad, “But how did he die?”

Harry didn't have to answer because Ron did for him, with clear anger in his voice, “Someone
killed him, that's how.”

Petunia's eyes widened for a moment before she turned back to her breakfast, quietly eating
once again, clearly not having anything else to say.

The rest of the meal went by in silence. When everyone was finished, the three teenagers went
back to Dudley's old room, gathering their trunks together.

“Well,” Harry said, “I suppose we should be going.”

Hermione looked at him in shock, “You mean, just Apparate from in here?”

Ron and Harry shrugged, “Why not?” Ron asked.

Hermione looked at Harry, “You aren't even going to say goodbye to them? I mean they raised
you!”

“They did not!” Ron said. “They locked him in a cupboard for almost ten years.” Harry nodded in
agreement.

“Still,” Hermione said, “This may be the last time you'll ever see them. Do it for yourself,
to let them go.”

Harry sighed and set down his trunk, “Fine, wait here.” But at precisely that moment Aunt
Petunia came into the room, looking very shaken up.

She looked at him meekly, “You're going then?”

“I was going to,” Harry said. What was she playing at? She had been acting very funny since
they'd arrived.

Petunia turned to Ron and Hermione, “May I speak to him for a moment?”

Ron was about to object but Hermione simply grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room.
“Come get us when you're done,” Hermione said before they were gone.

Harry went and sat on a cot, Petunia on one across from him. “What's going on?” Harry asked
suspiciously.

Petunia seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, “Your mother, whenever she needed to tell
me something she wanted to no one to hear, would do something to the door with one of those
*things* so people outside couldn't listen in. Could you do that?”

Harry stared at her for a moment, and when she didn't saying anything else, couldn't
stop himself from blurting out, “You're serious.” He couldn't hide the shock in his
voice.

Aunt Petunia nodded briskly, “I don't want Vernon to hear any of this.”

“You…don't?”

She nodded, though it seemed physically painful for her to perform the action, “No. Could you
just do it?”

Harry nodded and shrugged. “Alright then.” He cast a silencing charm on the door. He looked at
her for a few minutes expectantly, waiting for her to speak, since he didn't know what this was
about.

“We're not safe are we?” Aunt Petunia asked.

Harry cocked his head. Did she mean what he thought she did? “What are you asking?”

“Muggles,” Harry hid the surprise at her lack of hesitancy, “We aren't safe. There's
going to be a war, and it's going to affect Muggles, too. And with Dumbledore gone, no one is
safe. Am I right?” Harry noticed a slight quiver in her lip and he could see evident fear in her
eyes.

Harry thought for a moment, “There's been a war for a long time now. You're right,
though. No one's safe. Everyone always thought that Dumbledore could defeat Voldemort, but now
that he's dead, they can't rely on him.”

Petunia seemed to be choosing her words carefully, “Voldmart…is that evil w-wizard. He, killed
my sister, and your father.”

“Voldemort,” Harry enunciated the name, “Killed my parents and many other magical people, as
well as muggles. Yes, he's very evil.”

“And your people…” Petunia had the look on her face as if trying to put a complicated puzzle
together, “They depended on Dumbledore to kill…Voldemort?”

Harry sighed and nodded, “Yes.”

“So then whom do they look to now?”

Harry felt very odd all of the sudden. All of this time, talking to his aunt, he had known that
this was very rare and strange indeed, but it wasn't up until this moment that he appreciated
how much his aunt knew about the Wizarding World, yet, how little she knew about him. She knew how
dangerous magic could be in the wrong hands, and, somehow, Harry wasn't sure, she knew how
great and good Dumbledore had been.

All of these summers Harry had mostly kept to himself and the Dursleys acted like he was scum,
and that they were better than him. How could he possibly begin to explain that the magical world
had begun calling him the Chosen One? How could he possibly explain that the fate of the magical,
and maybe even muggle, world could very well rest upon his shoulders?

Harry took a breath and sighed, “I suppose they look to me.”

Aunt Petunia stared at him for a moment, shocked, and then seemed to wait for him to go on, as
if he were to say it was only him and some other wizard, or that it was him as a last resort. Harry
held his reserve and looked back at her blank-faced. What could he do other than that?

After a moment Petunia seemed to accept this, and began speaking, very softly and hesitantly,
and Harry had to strain to hear her, “It's been…you've…how difficult it must…”

Suddenly she seemed to snap out of it and stood up, surprising Harry, who rose with her. “You
should be going, then.”

Harry nodded blindly, briefly wondering if he had just imagined it all. “Yeah, say goodbye to
Uncle Vernon and Dudley for me, I guess.” He felt odd. Before he had been ready to leave, but after
this conversation he had so many questions he wanted to ask. He almost felt sad to leave now. Harry
raised his wand and undid the silencing charm he had placed on it.

“Okay. Goodbye, then.” Aunt Petunia tilted her head for a moment as she stared at Harry and then
left through the door.

“…Bye,” Harry watched her walk back to the kitchen, and then went to get Ron and Hermione.

They followed him back into the room and the three of them picked up their luggage, “You know
what?” Harry asked, getting an idea.

“What?” Ron replied.

“I don't really feel like Apparating. C'mon, follow me.” Without a word, his two friends
flowed him out the door and down the hall, and then past that out onto the sidewalk until Harry
stopped and pulled out his wand, sticking it out into the street subtly.

“What are you doing, Harry?” Hermione asked.

Harry smiled at her, “Just wait a moment.”

And, without further ado, the big purple Knight Bus came hurtling down the street, coming to a
screeching halt in front the Dursley's home. A moment later Stan Shunpike got out of the
bus.

“Harry Potter!” He exclaimed happily, immediately lifting Harry's mood as he had hoped Stan
would. Stan took Hermione and Harry's trunks and motioned to the man at his side wearing the
same uniform to take Ron's. “Come to claim your free rides, I see?”

“Oh, no, I'll…” Harry started to say, but Stan cut him off.

“None o' dat, none o' dat. I wouldn't fink of lettin' ye pay for a ride. Ernie,
dese tree are on me!” He told the driver as they all loaded on to the bus, sitting on the seats
that lined the wall, facing the inside of the bus. Hermione sat in the front on the right, with
Harry to her left. Ron was across the way facing them.

“Don't forget to hold on,” Harry quietly said to Hermione. She nodded and grabbed onto the
handlebar with one hand rather tightly, and across from them, Ron did the same. After a moment the
bus took off and Hermione's other hand immediately latched onto Harry's arm.

“Would Apparating have been that bad?” Ron asked just before being swung backwards as the bus
took a sharp turn. This made Hermione laugh and take her hand off Harry's arm for a short
moment before taking it back and gripping even harder. Using something to ignore the pain (when had
she gotten so strong?) Harry answered Stan and told him where to take them.

Despite the pain in his arm, where Hermione was gripping tighter by the second, Harry enjoyed
the ride, as he had expected he would. With he toss and turn he felt every troubling thought leave
him.

“Hermione?” Harry asked after a minute.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Could you loosen up a little? My hand's starting to feel numb,” Harry said, pointing to
where his fingertips were beginning to lose color.

Hermione looked down and gasped, immediately giving him a little more slack, “I'm sorry!”
She blushed a little.

“It's o-” Harry was cut off as the driver slammed on the breaks, pushing Harry forward and
right into Hermione so hard that he was afraid for a minute that he might have broken something.
Hermione let out a little squeal of pain. When the bus settled Harry immediately pulled himself
over and began checking her arms and shoulders for damage. “I'm so sorry, Hermione! Does this
hurt?” Not knowing what else to do, Harry began poking her in random places.

“It's okay, Harry, I'm alright. No, that doesn't hurt. Not there either. Wait,
don't, Ah!” Hermione suddenly jumped up, Harry doing the same.

“Did that hurt?” Harry poked her in the same spot, just between her neck and shoulder,
again.

Hermione jerked away and grabbed her trunk, thanking Stan. “No, it didn't hurt. It just…
never mind.” Hermione got off the bus, stepping onto the sidewalk. Harry picked up his trunk as
well and said goodbye to Stan; Ron, doing the same and laughing.

“What?” Harry turned around and asked Ron as they got off the bus.

Ron smiled mischievously, “I think, my good mate, you have just found out the secret to where
our dear Hermione is ticklish.” And with that, he followed Hermione into the already visible Number
12 Grimmauld Place.

~*~

A/N: First, I wanted to say hi to all of my fellow Delusionalfans over at livejournal! You guys
rock! I also want to give a huge thanks to my newest beta, LadyStarlight! You are so awesome!!!
Dedi, never fret, you still rock to.

Okay, I know some of you may comment on this, so I just want to say now that Petunia's story
isn't over (hopefully that got the point across without revealing too much), so don't
worry. Hopefully those of you who have been starving for some H/Hr lovin' were temporarily
appeased with this chapter. Trust me, it's killing me just as much not to have them suddenly
start snogging the heck out of each other, but I am trying REALLY hard to get this right. In the
mean time, I promise that there shall be more moments to come, for this is Portkey after all!

Please review, and if you don't have time to review, vote for this (awesome, but I may be
biased) story in the Felix Felices Competition!

-->



4. Delusions and Nightmares
---------------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Author's Note: Okay, so, compared to my other chapters that were about 3,000 words in
length, this one tops off at just over 5,000, so I hope you enjoy. For those of you who have been
worried about the pace, you can see it beginning to pick up in this chapter, and definitely in the
chapters that follow, so never fear. This chapter's main purpose is to focus on the advancement
of Harry and Hermione's relationship (and, to my fellow delusionalfans over at livejournal, I
stuck in a special something for you). That is pretty much it, so just please read and review (I
have gotten a surprisingly low number of reviews for this, though a high number of hits) and rate
it, as well!

~*~

Chapter 4: Delusions and Nightmares

~*~

Harry followed them in and closed the door behind him. “So I guess this is home now,” Harry
said, looking around at the house, which appeared to have been kept clean somehow.

“Do you reckon we should use the same rooms we did last summer?” Ron asked.

“Don't be silly, Ron,” Hermione replied immediately. “Since it's only the three of us
and Professor Lupin on occasion, there's no reason for you two to share a room anymore.”

“You think so?” Harry asked. He wasn't sure what he thought about having his own room in
this big house. “Well, Ron can keep the old room.”

“Then which room will you get?” Ron asked.

As if to answer his question, Dobby immediately popped into the hall, next to Hermione. “Harry
Potter, sir! Dobby has a room for you!”

“How did you…” Harry decided halfway through speaking that he would rather not ask. “What
room?”

Dobby smiled, “Follow Dobby, Harry Potter and friends! Dobby will show you!”

And so they followed him, up the stairs to the fourth floor and down to the end of the hall.
Harry watched as Dobby pulled out a key and opened a sturdy-looking door that Harry had never
noticed before. Once opened, he led them up six or seven more stairs to a vast bedroom. It was
furnished quite nicely, with a large bed prominent in the middle of the room up against the right
wall. There was a desk to the left against the wall as a fireplace and a small table with two
chairs in the back left. On the opposite side of the room were two tall windows, arched at the top.
They seemed to be charmed, since the view provided a look at the countryside, with a small pond
just visible in the distance. Lining the wall on each side of the door were two large, vast
bookshelves, stuffed with books.

Hermione let out what seemed to be a surprised and excited gasp as she pushed past Harry and
began examining some of the books. “Dobby, did you do all of this?”

Dobby nodded proudly, “Yes, Miss Hermione, Dobby did it for Harry. Dumbledore paid Dobby extra
to do it, ma'am!”

Hermione was positively beaming now as she took Harry's hand and pulled him into the room.
“He paid you extra? Dobby, that's wonderful! Harry, look at all of these!” Clutching
Harry's hand tightly, she began pointing out several books. “I haven't even read or heard
of half of these! Harry? Could I…I mean, would you mind if…” She suddenly seemed very bashful.

Harry smiled, “You can borrow them whenever you want, Hermione. But where do you suppose these
all came from?”

“The books came from Headmaster Dumbledore's private collection, Harry Potter, sir!” Dobby
informed him happily. “He paid for everything else, sir.” Harry considered telling Dobby not to
call him `sir' anymore but decided that it would be a waste of breath.

“Blimey,” Ron said from over by the fireplace as Harry suddenly became aware of Hermione's
hand still in his, “I can't believe he did this for you, Harry.”

Harry looked around. He couldn't believe it, either. The room was huge. Hermione pulled him
in different directions, pointing out different aspects of the room, but Harry barely heard her.
Finally he just went over and sat on his bed. His bed. There was a thought.

Hermione and Ron came and sat on either side of him. Dobby bid them goodbye, and left the room.
There was a slight pause and then Hermione spoke first, “So when would you like to leave for
Godric's Hollow?”

Harry tried to hide his hesitation, though he suspected they both noticed it. He had gotten the
directions and coordinates of Godric's Hollow from Professor McGonagall a little over a week
ago, along with a key to the house from Remus, who had offered to come along. Harry had, at the
time, told Ron and Hermione that they would wait until after the funeral and stopping at the
Dursley's, and then go. Now, however, with no reason not to go, and nothing else to do to
prepare, Harry didn't know if he could go just yet.

He thought of a reasonable answer, “I think we should all unpack and get settled today. Lupin
wants to come, so we should owl him. We're going to be living here for quite awhile, I suspect,
so I think we should get comfortable, maybe explore a little.”

They nodded, “Sounds like a good idea, mate,” Ron said, “I'll send the owl to Remus.” Ron
got up and left the room.

Harry could feel Hermione reading him, and he knew that she knew why he was waiting. Before he
could come up with another excuse though, Hermione placed a comforting hand on Harry's knee,
“It's okay, Harry, you don't have to explain. I understand, and I think Ron does, too. We
don't have to go until you're ready.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, anything, to show he how much he appreciated her gentle
words. Nothing he could possibly come up with seemed adequate, so he just smiled a little and
mumbled, “I'm glad you came.” Harry would spend quite a bit of time wondering if he had been
referring to both of his friends when he said that or just the one in front of him.

Hermione smiled in return, “I'm glad I came to. I'll go see what's in the kitchen.
We may have to do some shopping.” She stood and headed down the stairs, closing the door behind
her.

Harry sat there for a few moments before standing and looking over his vast bookshelf. Had Dobby
said it was Dumbledore's private collection? Harry scanned the titles that adorned the various
books, looking for some kind of clue. Professor Dumbledore had to have had some kind of reason for
putting them all there. After looking for ten or fifteen minutes Harry decided to go ask Hermione
for help.

From outside of the kitchen Harry could hear Ron and Hermione's voices, though he
couldn't tell what they were saying. He walked on inside and was greeted with silence, the two
of them sitting across from each other at the table, something clearly hanging between them. Ron
looked up and smiled at Harry with what could only be considered fake innocence, “I sent the letter
to Remus.”

“Oh, good,” Harry tried to figure out what they could have been talking about that they
didn't want him to hear.

Harry sat down next to Hermione and after another pause she spoke, “Were you looking for
something, Harry?”

Harry stared at her stupidly for a moment before remembering, “Oh, yes, actually. I was looking
for…” Harry was interrupted as a knock rang at the door.

“Who could that be?” Hermione asked rhetorically as they walked to the door. Harry reached out
and opened it, immediately greeted by three batches of red hair.

The twins and Ginny smiled at them. “Hi,” Ginny said.

“What are you three doing here?” Ron asked incredulously.

“Mum's going spare.” One of the twins answered. “She can't believe she let you lot go.
Ever since you left last night she's been walking around the house mumbling to herself and
yelling at anyone who gets in her way. We told her that we knew where you were headed and that we
would check up on you.”

“Ginny didn't know where we were,” Ron said.

Ginny shrugged, “Like I was about to let them escape without taking me, too.”

Harry thought this sounded like a valid answer and Hermione ushered them in, leading them down
to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” She asked them as they sat at the table.

“Depends,” Fred said, “When were you three planning to eat lunch?”

Hermione looked at Harry as if to ask him, and he simply shrugged, so Hermione answered, “In
about an hour.” Harry noticed that Ginny had watched this entire interaction with interest.

“Then we're fine,” George replied. “Mum kicked us out for the day, so she won't let us
back until supper.” Fred and Ginny nodded in agreement.

“Fancy some chess then?” Ron asked. The twins nodded in agreement.

“You guys go set it up. Harry and I will be up in a moment,” Ginny said, casting Harry a
glance.

The twins and Ron headed up the stairs, Hermione lingering for a moment to make sure this was
okay with Harry before following them.

Harry turned to Ginny, “What do you want?” Had she felt bad for what she said at the reception?
Did she want to get back together? Harry did not want that, for some reason. He wasn't sure
what he wanted. He watched Ginny expectantly.

After a moment she spoke. “Harry, the reason I came is because there's something I should
have told you at the reception. Before that, actually.” She hesitated for a moment. “Dean and I are
back together. We have been for a week now.” She said the last part very quickly.

Harry stared at her, waiting for that familiar monster erupt inside of him, but it never came.
To his surprise, Harry didn't even feel and urge to hurt Dean. What did this mean? Did this
mean that Harry was okay with them being together? But, then, that would mean he didn't care
for Ginny. No, he still cared for Ginny. So why wasn't he jealous?

“Harry?” Ginny asked after an unknown amount of time, “Are you okay? I'm sorry I didn't
tell you before. I just felt that you should know and…”

“No, it's not that. I don't know. I think…” Harry wasn't sure he wanted to say it,
because to say it might make it true, “I think I'm okay with it.”

Ginny looked very surprised, as if this was the very last thing she expected him to say. She
also looked a little disappointed, if Harry wasn't mistaken. “Oh,” She then put on a smile.
“That's great. Well, I think I'll go watch them play chess upstairs.” She left the kitchen,
and after a moment, Harry did the same.

He walked into the living room and sat next to Hermione on the couch, watching Ron play chess
against the twins. “Isn't that unfair? Two against one?”

Hermione shrugged, “I suppose. Ron's winning, though, so I'm not sure that it is.” She
turned and faced him, giving him an odd look as she studied him.

“What? Is there something on me?” Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head, still looking at him intently. “It's just…Harry, when was the last
time you got your hair cut?”

Harry thought for a moment. “Last summer. Aunt Petunia hates for me to look shabby in front of
the neighbors, so she takes me every summer. Of course, this summer she didn't. Probably
because she knew I was only staying the night.”

Hermione bit her lip thinking, “I could give you a hair cut.” Everyone in the room stopped what
they were doing and looked at her like she was crazy. “No, really,” Hermione went on, “My mother
was a beautician before she became a dentist. I used to help her cut my father's hair. It's
quite easy, actually.”

Harry considered this for a moment as Ron spoke, “Are you telling me that your mother used to be
a beautician but she still let you go around looking like you do?”

Hermione looked at Ron with a hurt expression and spoke softly, “What's wrong with how I
look?” Her voice cracked a little as she spoke.

Ron appeared like a dear caught in headlights. “Nothing…I was just meaning…with your hair
and…never mind.”

Ginny seemed to sense how Hermione felt and sought to comfort her, “You look perfectly fine,
Hermione. Don't listen to Ron.”

Hermione smiled a little and stood, “No, it's fine, really. I just remembered that I have
to…do something…upstairs. I'll be back down for lunch in a bit.” She hastily left the room.

As if they had planned it, all three Weasley's smacked Ron upside the head. “Ow!” He
exclaimed. “What?”

“Ron, you dolt!” Fred scolded his brother.

“What kind of bloke is dumb enough to tell a girl she's not pretty?” George elaborated.

“I can't believe you would hurt her feelings like that, Ron!” Ginny went on.

“How thick can you be?” Fred asked.

As this went on, Harry slipped out of the room unnoticed and headed up to Hermione's
bedroom. When she wasn't in there, Harry had a hunch and headed up to his own room, finding
Hermione sitting on the floor in front of the now lit fireplace, leaning over a book that sat on
her lap, her shoulders shaking a little.

Please do not let her be crying, Harry thought to himself. No such luck, however. Not knowing
what else to do, Harry sat down next to Hermione, “I'm sorry.”

Hermione sniffed in surprise and hastily wiped her eyes. “Oh, no it's fine,” She said,
though her chest hitched a little as she spoke. “Besides, Ron's the one who said it, not you,
Harry.”

“Yeah, but I don't want you to…I mean you're not…”

“What?” Hermione looked up at Harry and he felt a pain in his chest at seeing her tear-stained
cheeks.

Harry took a breath. “I just don't want you to believe what he said. You don't, do you?”
He asked.

Hermione searched Harry's face. “Oh, it's okay, Harry. Ron's right. I know
I'm…”

“No!” Harry said, louder than he had intended to, and surprised Hermione. “I mean, no,” He went
on, “You're not ugly at all. You aren't even close.”

“Harry, you don't have to lie to me, it's fine, really.” Hermione made a sad attempt at
a smile.

“It's not fine!” Harry wasn't sure why he was getting so upset at this. He simply
didn't like the thought of Hermione thinking she was anything less than beautiful. “It's
not okay because clearly Ron is mad and he's making you crazy, too!”

Hermione sighed and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, placing her book on the floor beside
her, “Harry I assure you that I am perfectly sane.”

Harry shook his head. “Do you really believe that you aren't pretty?”

Hermione lower lip shook a little and she nodded, “Yes.”

“Why?” Harry couldn't make her change her mind if he didn't know why she thought these
things to begin with.

Hermione sighed, “Because, for one thing, my hair is thick and curly. My face is very
tired-looking from all of the studying I do, and, well, my body is rather shapeless.” Hermione
seemed to find it odd to be defending that she was ugly.

Harry listened and tried to understand what she was talking about, but he seemed to be seeing
something different. He saw her thick and curly hair, but it was pretty brown locks that fell past
her shoulders and down her back. Her face was clean and lovely, and Harry realized with a start
that her body was even nicer than Parvati's, Lavender's, or even Ginny's, though you
wouldn't notice right away because of the way she dressed comfortably rather than to
impress.

“I don't see what you're talking about, Hermione.” Harry replied after a moment.

“Are you trying to say I'm pretty?” Hermione asked, her hands now fiddling with each other
as she looked at her lap.

“No,” Harry bent his head down so he could look her in the eye, “I'm *trying* to say
that you're beautiful, but you refuse to listen to me. I've got half a mind to go
downstairs and punch Ron for making you think like this.” Hermione laughed despite herself.

“Harry, I'm sorry, but you're delusional,” She told him with a smile.

Harry shrugged and grinned, “Is that so bad?”

Hermione looked down at his hands now, “I suppose not.”

Harry took one of her hands in his and she looked up at him, “Be delusional with me.”

Hermione giggled, “What?”

Harry nodded. “It doesn't matter what Ron or anyone else thinks. Just believe me when I say
you're beautiful, and we'll be delusional together.”

“But then we're just a couple of lunatics,” Hermione answered, confused.

“So? Do it for me. I can't stand that you believe you're ugly.” Harry pleaded with
Hermione.

She thought for a moment, “Do we have to tell anyone?”

Harry shook his head, “People don't listen to crazy people anyway, do they? So it can just
be between us.”

Hermione smiled, “Okay, Harry.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?” Hermione asked, confused.

“Say that you're beautiful.”

Hermione looked distressed at this, “Do I have to?”

Harry nodded.

“Fine. I'm…beautiful.” Hermione said with a pained expression.

Harry shook his head, “You have to mean it.”

Hermione gave him a stubborn look before speaking again, “I'm beautiful.”

Harry smiled, “Yes, you are.”

Without warning Hermione launched herself at Harry, hugging him as he fell back on the floor,
“You're such a great friend, Harry. I don't know what I would do without you.”

Harry hugged her back. “Thanks.” He waited a moment. “Hermione?”

“Yes Harry?”

“Could you get off of me?” Harry asked with a smile.

Harry could feel Hermione blush and she stood up hastily. “We should probably go downstairs for
lunch. It's starting…” She looked at her watch, “…five minutes ago. I bet they're wondering
where we are.”

“I doubt it,” Harry replied as he stood up as well, “Though we should head down anyway. Are you
sure you don't want me to punch Ron?” He asked with a grin.

Hermione smiled slyly, “Well, maybe later.”

“I look forward to it.” Together they headed down to the kitchen where Dobby had some sandwiches
set out. As they sat eating the teens carried on conversation about various things, such as
Quidditch teams. Harry for the most part remained quiet.

He had been thinking about what Ron had said as they got off the Knight Bus. Could Hermione
really be ticklish? As he watched her talk to Ginny, gesturing with her hands, Harry suddenly
wondered what it would be like to tickle someone. He had never tickled anyone before; he had never
felt the urge. However, as he stared at Hermione's collarbone, where she had fidgeted earlier,
he found the idea of tickling her very appealing. Harry had begun wondering how he would go about
such a thing when the subject of his musings spoke to him.

“Is there something on my shirt?” Hermione asked.

“What? Oh, no. I was just thinking, sorry,” Harry supposed that he might have been staring at
her collarbone for a bit too long. Ron let out a snort of laughter, presumably knowing what Harry
had been thinking, but shut up when Harry glared at him.

“So how was imprisonment last night?” Fred asked. At the mention of the Dursleys, Harry
remembered something.

“Hermione, can I speak to you for a moment?” Harry asked, standing up.

Hermione shrugged and nodded, “I suppose so. What's this about, Harry?”

“I'll tell you in a second.” Harry took her hand and pulled her out of the kitchen, telling
the lot of confused and slightly annoyed Weasleys that they would be back in a minute.

When they reached the living area Harry sat Hermione down on the couch and sat next to her,
“What did you talk to my Aunt Petunia about this morning?”

“I told you…”

“I know it wasn't just about breakfast, Hermione.” Harry interrupted her, looking at her
sternly.

Hermione met his gaze stubbornly, “What did *you* talk to your aunt about this morning,
*Harry*?”

Harry shrugged, “She was scared and asked some questions about the war, Voldemort, and
Dumbledore. It was rather odd, really, but I suppose she knows firsthand, having seen her sister
die, that this is no game. Now answer my question.”

Hermione seemed startled, apparently having been expecting him to refuse to answer like she had.
“Harry…I want to tell you, but…” She looked up at him apologetically.

“But what?” Harry asked a little harsher than he had meant to. Hermione winced slightly.

“But I can't.” Upon seeing the anger forming on Harry's face, she went on, “I'm
sorry, Harry! I had hoped you wouldn't ask. Look, I promise that I *will* tell you.
Just…not yet, okay? I need you to trust me.”

Harry sagged a little, “Fine. You promise you'll tell me?” Hermione nodded. Knowing that he
could get her to change her mind, Harry changed the subject. “Have you told Ron about the
Triptych?”

Hermione shook her head, “I mentioned that you may have found something, but then he went off to
talk to Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry thought for a moment, “I think we should go to Diagon Alley tomorrow. You can have a good
look at the necklaces, or we can bring them back here and you can examine them. How much do you
know about them?”

“Not much. Yes, I know,” She replied in response to the shocked look on Harry's face, “But
there's very few books on the subject, Harry. The Hogwarts library didn't even carry one of
them. I wonder where we could find…” Her eyes lit up with an idea and Harry caught on quickly.

“Let's go check,” was all Harry managed to say before Hermione was up and running to
Harry's room as he struggled to keep pace.

Once inside Hermione began scanning the bindings of the texts. “We shouldn't get our hopes
up, Harry. I highly doubt that…hold on…wait…I found it!” Hermione exclaimed with excitement. They
went and sat on the bed as Hermione opened it up, turning the pages quickly. “Yes…this is perfect.
Harry, can I…?”

“Go ahead.” Harry smiled as she immediately took off out of the room, most likely heading to her
own where she would begin reading immediately.

Harry went back downstairs and they all, excluding Hermione, played Exploding Snap the rest of
the afternoon. Around five o'clock the twins and Ginny headed back to the Burrow, promising to
write before showing up next time, if there was a next time. As Harry closed the door and owl came
swooping in. Harry opened the envelope, reading the letter from Remus:

*Dear Harry, Ron, and Hermione,*

*I would definitely like to accompany you to Godric's Hollow. However, I'm very busy
with a project right now, and will not be free tomorrow. If you would like to wait, we could go on
Friday. Send me an owl if that is a problem, otherwise I will see you Friday morning.*

*Remus*

Harry closed the letter and showed it to Ron. “I think it makes sense to wait. He knows his way
around the area. It'll be good to have him there.”

Ron nodded, “Definitely. You want me to go tell Hermione?”

“Yeah, that'd be great. I'm going to go ask Dobby if he can make some dinner.” Harry
told him as Ron headed up the stairs.

“Dobby?” Harry asked into the air, since he had no idea where the elf was. Dobby immediately
popped in at Harry's feet.

“Yes, Harry Potter?” Dobby asked.

“Could you make us some dinner?” Harry asked. Dobby nodded happily and scurried down to the
kitchen. Not having anything better to do, Harry headed up to Hermione's room, where he assumed
he would find his two friends.

When he reached the outside of the bedroom, Harry stood outside and waited, remembering the
incident that had taken place this morning when he had walked into the kitchen. Harry listened in
to see if he could hear what they were talking about, privately scolding himself for spying on his
best friends.

For the first five or ten minutes they were talking to quietly, but Harry finally managed to
catch on to the conversation.

“…out on the roof tomorrow night.” Harry heard Ron's voice. “We can just tell Harry that
there's something we wanted to do. He won't mind. I'm sure he'd like some time to
himself.”

“Yes I suppose you're right,” Hermione's voice answered. “So what day is Remus
coming?”

“Friday.”

“And today's Tuesday,” Harry heard the scribbling sound of a quill on parchment, “So that
gives us tomorrow and Thursday to get a hold of Professor McGonagall about training.”

Getting annoyed of waiting in the hall, Harry stepped into the room, making his presence known.
“Dobby's making supper.”

“Oh, good,” Hermione replied. “Harry, come sit here.” She scooted over on the bed, pushing Ron
to do the same, and then patted the bed. “I had an idea I wanted to run by you.” Harry noted that
this time neither of them had abruptly stopped talking upon his entrance, nor had they seemed
guilty about hiding anything.

Harry went and sat next to her as she had told him to, “What is it?”

“Well, I was thinking, with all of the danger we could be facing this year…and since we
won't be going back to school…”

“Yeah?” Harry prompted her after a moment.

“Iwasthinkingwecouldgettraining.” Hermione said quickly as Harry struggled to listen.

“What about it raining?” He asked, confused.

Hermione sighed, and spoke slower this time. “I was thinking that we could get some training.
You know, like combat training. Maybe from some members of the Order of the Phoenix?”

Harry considered this for a moment as Ron mumbled, “If the Order's still around that
is.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Well, Dumbledore was the leader, wasn't he?” Ron replied. “If he's gone, who going to
be in charge? I mean, they're thinking of closing *Hogwarts* because he's dead. Why
would they keep the Order running?”

Harry considered this and turned to Hermione, “He's got a point, you know.”

Hermione appeared troubled by this thought. “I'll send an owl to Professor McGonagall after
supper. Do you know when Dobby will be finished?”

Displaying his impeccable timing (Harry began to wonder if the elf sat around waiting for cues
like that) Dobby popped into the room. “Dinner is ready, Sirs and Miss!”

“Thank you, Dobby! That was very nice of you.” Hermione smiled at the elf, who beamed at the
praise.

They ate dinner relatively quietly, and afterwards Harry felt oddly tired. He thought back and
realized that it had been a particularly long and full day. He bid goodnight to his two friends and
headed upstairs, where he showered and then headed into his room, pulling on some pajama bottoms
and laying down in the large bed.

Once again, Harry found himself having trouble sleeping, but this time it was because of the
bed. It was very comfortable, but Harry found himself having trouble dealing with so much space.
Deciding that he would have to get used to it, Harry continued to lie there, opening and closing
his eyes from time to time, and shifting positions when his body began to feel stiff.

After what turned out to be several hours Harry had begun to nod off, but jumped out of bed at
the sound of screaming coming from Hermione's bedroom. Grabbing his bathrobe from the hook but
not putting it on, he took off down the hall. Ron was standing outside her room, which was quieter
now, but he could hear Hermione inside, talking loudly and possibly hyperventilating.

“She wouldn't talk to me,” Ron said, “She keeps talking about how she `should have given him
the potion' and then she starts crying. I tried to explain that it was just a dream, but…”
Harry did not hear anymore as he opened the door and saw Hermione wandering around the room, her
hands in her hair, shaking her head.

“Hermione?” He asked tentatively.

“Harry!” Hermione turned around and crossed the room, immediately latching onto him and holding
him tightly, shaking with sobs. “Harry, you were dead! I tried to give you the…potion…but you would
not…and I saw your body…” her words became muffled as she held him tightly, despite his lack of a
shirt. He found this odd for a moment, considering the embarrassment she had demonstrated that very
morning, but then decided that she may have been too shaken up to notice.

“I guess you'll take care of her, then,” Ron said, a bit sadly. He turned from the doorway
and left them.

Harry tried to lead Hermione back to her bed, but she didn't want to. “No!” She exclaimed
quietly. “I might see it again! It's too horrible…I can't…” She had stopped crying, but
continued to hold Harry tightly.

Not knowing of anything else he could do, Harry took the robe he had in his hand and wrapped it
around her, leading her out of the room and up to his own. When they were inside he led her to the
bed, sitting on the edge of the bed and up against the headboard on one side, pulling her up next
to him, still holding her gently

They sat there for several moments. When Hermione had stopped shaking, Harry turned his head and
tried to get a better look at her, “Are you okay now?”

Hermione nodded, though her lower lip still quivered slightly.

Harry paused a moment and then spoke again, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Hermione seemed like she wouldn't at first, but then started talking, looking down at his
lap where the hand that he didn't have on her shoulder rested. “You died.” she whispered. “You
gave me the Felix Felicis potion, and I tried to make you take it, but you wouldn't. Then I
found you later, and you…you were…” She trembled as a tear fell down her cheek and Harry wiped it
away.

“I'm sorry.” It was all Harry could think of to say.

“I felt so lost,” she said quietly, “And I can't close my eyes, because when I do…I see it
again.”

Harry gently guided her in front of him, so she was sitting in front of him, turning her to the
side with both of her legs swung over his left leg and her shoulder up against him. “Here,” He
pulled her to him and she placed her head in the crook of his neck. “I'm not dead, I promise.
It was just a dream.” He rubbed her back lightly in an attempt to reassure her that he was indeed
solid and alive.

Hermione remained silent before speaking hesitantly, “And what happens when it's not a
dream?”

Harry felt his chest tighten, “I don't know.”

“You can't leave me. I need you. We all need you.” Hermione said.

Harry rested his chin on top of her head, “I know.” It was all there was to say. He couldn't
promise her that he wouldn't be killed. He could not promise anyone that. He wrapped his arms
tighter around her, as if holding on could keep him from falling.

They stayed there for a bit, and then Hermione yawned, causing Harry to yawn as well. This went
back and forth for a moment. “Do you want to go back to bed now?” Harry asked.

“Can I…would it be alright if I stayed here?” Hermione requested timidly.

Harry could tell that her dream, or nightmare, rather, had clearly shaken her up quite a bit and
that she was still frightened, and figured that if he couldn't promise her that he wouldn't
die, the least he could let her do was stay he if she wanted to. “I suppose you can.” Harry shifted
so she could lie down on the bed.

She moved under the covers, wrapping his robe tighter around herself, and Harry stayed on top of
the covers, not very cold on the summer night. He settled himself onto the bed and turn to his
side, facing her. “Will you be able to fall asleep?”

Hermione answered him with another yawn. She closed her eyes and not five minutes later, she was
sound asleep, breathing gently. As he watched her, Harry felt himself grow tired as well, and it
was not long before he joined her.

~*~

A/N: A big thanks to my beta, LadyStarlight, who gave fabulous tips, as always. I hope that all
of the delusionalfans loved that little tidbit (I actually hadn't planned on doing it, but it
seemed so perfect as I was writing). Please be awesome and leave a review, and rate this if you
can, because you only have until the 22nd!

-->



5. The Triptych
---------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Author's Note: Okay, this may be my last chapter during the voting period (which ends
Monday) so be sure to rate this! This chapter is insanely long, for me anyways, topping off at
almost 8500 words! For those of you who have been waiting for the Triptych, that the main focus of
this chapter, so you should enjoy that. (As always I slipped in some Harry/Hermione.) I'm not
really sure of how the feedback on this chapter will be, so please leave a review, it takes about
one minute. That's about it, so without further ado, Chapter 5!

~*~

Chapter 5: The Triptych

~*~

Harry woke up to the sound of rustling in the room. He lifted up his head and reached over to
the bedside table, putting on his glasses. He turned back over and saw Hermione moving around the
room, grabbing various books from the shelf one at a time and then taking them over to the table,
where a small pile was growing very quickly. Harry watched her for a minute before speaking, “Good
morning.”

“It's almost good afternoon, Harry,” Hermione said, though neither her face nor tone gave
evidence of reproach. In fact, she was smiling at him. She looked down at her watch and then said,
“I told Ron we'd be down for lunch in about fifteen minutes. Do you want me to go so you can
get dressed?”

Harry could easily tell that she didn't want to leave whatever she was doing and shook his
head, “No, I suppose I can change in the closet.” He got out of bed and walked over to her,
stopping her midway between the table and the bookshelf. “Are you okay now?”

Hermione stopped smiling for a moment, sobering up, before smiling again, genuinely. “Yes, thank
you so much, Harry. It's a little embarrassing to have gotten so worked up over a nightmare,
and I'm sorry that I took over your bed and all. I just didn't…”

“It's fine, Hermione. I just wanted to make sure that you were better now.” Harry
replied.

Hermione nodded, “I'm much better.” She gave reached up and gave Harry a hug and a kiss on
the cheek, causing it to grow rather warm.

Harry shivered as a draft swept through the room as Hermione turned back to the bookshelf. “Is
it cold in here or is it just me?” He asked.

Hermione did not pause in her search for whatever book she was looking for, “You might not be
cold if you were dressed decently. Perhaps a shirt would be a good start.” She plucked the book,
now found, from the shelf and took it to the table, sending him a grin. “Though I'm sure
I'll get used to this if you and Ron insist on displaying your upper bodies around the house
with no modestly whatsoever.”

Harry grunted in response and turned and headed into the closet, closing the door most of the
way, and began getting dressed. “Does it bug you that much?” Harry asked.

“No, but honestly, Harry. I don't suppose that either of you would want me to be parading
around here topless.” Harry chose not to answer, which apparently sent the wrong message because
Hermione opened the door (thankfully he was still in boxers and a t-shirt) and swatted him with one
of her books. “It's not happening!” She stomped back out and shut the door.

“So what are all of these books for?” Harry asked a moment later, stepping out of the closet and
putting on his belt.

Hermione set one last book on the table and let out a contented sigh, “I'll tell you and Ron
at lunch. We should be heading down.”

They walked into the kitchen where Ron was already sitting and waiting for them, munching on
some pork chops. “It's about time you two got down here.” He said between chewing. “Finally
wake him up, did you?” He asked Hermione with just a hint of annoyance.

Hermione shrugged and sat down next to Ron, putting a little bit of food on her plate. “I
didn't think it would be fair to wake him. We're not in any kind of hurry, and it was kind
of my fault that he was up so late.” Hermione said, looking guiltily at Harry, who waved it away
with his hand, taking a seat across from them.

“I was up late, too, you know,” Ron grumbled.

“And did I wake you up this morning?” Hermione asked in return. Ron looked down at his food and
mumbled something.

Not wanting them to start arguing, Harry changed the subject, “So what were all of the books
for, Hermione?” He asked as he began eating himself.

“Oh, that's right!” Hermione finished chewing and then wiped her mouth delicately. “I've
decided that we should have some type of plan.”

“Plan? For what?” Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Ron, what do you think? We've got to help Harry find
and destroy the Horcruxes. And I think we all know that eventually Harry at the very least will
need to face Voldemort, and we'll probably be with him. Then there's the Triptych…”

“What about the Triptych?” Ron asked curiously.

“Have you heard of it?” Hermione asked.

Ron nodded, “Of course, who hasn't?”

Harry sighed. Had everyone heard about it except him? “I might have it.” Harry said.

Ron's eyes bugged out, “Really?”

“We'll have to verify it. That's why we need a plan. Basically we've got a lot to
do, and a lot of things to prepare. I got Professor McGonagall's reply this morning. She said
she would meet us tomorrow sometime. We can discuss training and the Order with her then.

“I came up with jobs for everyone today,” Hermione went on. “I already did my research on the
Triptych yesterday, so Harry and I will go to Diagon Alley to retrieve the necklaces from the vault
and verify whether or not they are the real thing.”

“Why can't I come?” Ron asked immediately.

“Because I have a different job for you. Up on the table in Harry's room are all of the
books that I think may have information on Horcruxes. I need you to start going through them,
taking some notes.” Hermione answered.

“Why can't you or Harry do that?” Ron persisted. Clearly he didn't like the idea of
being stuck at home while they got to leave.

Hermione sighed. “Harry needs to be there because it's his vault, Ron, and I need to be
there since I don't think either of you would know how to tell the difference between the real
Triptych and a bunch of fakes, would you?” They both shook their heads. “Okay then, it's
settled. Harry and I will leave in a bit, and when we get back we'll discuss the Triptych and
I'll tell you two what I know.”

Ron still seemed unhappy about not being able to go, but couldn't come up with a reason that
he should, so he just nodded in agreement and went back to eating.

When they were finished eating, Harry turned to Hermione as Ron trudged up to Harry's room,
“So how are we getting there?”

Hermione shrugged, “I suppose we could floo there. I don't like to apparate unless I have
to. We should grab our cloaks.” They headed out into the hall and grabbed their cloaks off the
rack, and then headed over to the large fireplace.

Hermione grabbed some Floo Powder first, taking a handful and stepping into the fireplace. “The
Leaky Cauldron!” She called as she threw the powder down and disappeared into the flames. Harry
followed suit, and met her a moment later.

They walked to the bank in silence, occasionally bumping up against each other. After a moment
Harry broke the peace, “Do you think Ron was really upset that we left him behind?” Harry
asked.

Hermione looked around. “I wouldn't hold it past him, but I don't think he'll hold
it against us.”

Harry nodded as they entered the band, “I suppose.” They greeted the goblin and headed down to
Harry's vault.

When they entered, Hermione's reaction had been much like Fred and George's had been. “I
know,” Harry said in response to her wide-opened eyes. “It's a lot.”

Hermione nodded, looking around in awe at the gold-filled room. “I knew that you were well-off
Harry, but I had no idea that you were independently wealthy!” She did not seem particularly happy
or upset about this, simply shocked.

Harry shrugged. “Is that what you call it? A lot of this is part of the Black Family Fortune.
Anyway, the necklaces are over here.” He led Hermione to the glass case where the necklaces lay and
she lifted up the cover, taking each one out individually to look at it closely.

It was as she inspected them that Harry noticed how pretty they were for the first time. Each
necklace was on a fairly thin, but clearly very sturdy, gold chain with little pieces of platinum
intertwined. The chains did not have clasps, so Harry assumed they were enchanted so you could put
them over your head. This would make sense since that would keep the necklaces from falling off. At
the end of each chain was a quarter of an inch thick flat piece of gold in a shape that reminded
Harry of a teardrop with a platinum lining around the edge and on the back. It was about two inches
long and an inch wide. Then, right in the middle of each teardrop was a round gemstone. One was an
emerald, one was a ruby, and one was a diamond.

“Wow,” Hermione breathed after quite some time. She had taken all three into her hands and was
now sitting on the floor, Harry across from her.

“So what do you think?” Harry asked as she continued to stare.

Hermione thought for another moment before responding, “Well, I'll definitely do some spells
and charms when we get back just to double-check, but, Harry, I think these are the real deal!”

“Really?” Harry felt very happy to hear this.

Hermione nodded. “We should get back and tell Ron. I expect he's taking a break from
researching by now anyway.” Harry laughed at this. Hermione gently placed the necklaces in a velvet
bag that she had brought along and they exited the bank, Apparating back to Grimmauld Place.

Hermione called out to Ron as they hung their cloaks back up. He came down a moment later and
they went into the living room.

“So what's the verdict?” Ron asked as they sat down.

“I think they're the real thing.” Hermione said.

Ron blew air through his teeth. “Whoa. So what does this all mean? I've a heard a little
about the necklaces, but I don't know much about them.”

Hermione took the necklaces out of the bag and laid them on the table in front of them. “Well,
first we have to figure out which one of us goes with each necklace.”

“Huh?” Harry asked, already lost.

Hermione went on patiently, “You see, the Triptych essentially binds the three people together
to act as one body, but still separate at the same time. It's a little complicated, but
basically each jewel stands for a different part of the body. The three interdependent active
parts.”

“Which are…” Ron prompted with obvious clueless ness.

“The heart, the mind, and the hand, right?” Harry asked, remembering learning about that
somewhere.

Hermione smiled at him and nodded, “Exactly, Harry. Each part is just as vital as the next, you
see. The mind can't accomplish anything without the hand, the hand can't run without blood
pumping through it, and the heart can't function properly without the logic of the mind.
Likewise, the heart needs the hand to feel, the hand needs the mind to tell it how to act, and the
mind needs the balance of emotion.”

“So, we have to figure out which one of us represents each part?” Harry asked and Hermione
smiled again.

“Exactly. Then, once we've each put them on, the powers of the Triptych will be in
place.”

“What powers are there?” Ron asked.

“Well, Fred and George told Harry that it would bind us, which I just explained with the
interconnected parts. These parts also play in individual as well as group powers. Firstly, we each
gain the same powers. For example, you can touch the pendant and immediately Apparate to the
location of one of us, or to a reasonable distance from one of us, even if you don't know where
we are.

“Also, the pendants have an active Shield Charm, much like Fred and George's Shield Hats.
They protect us from simple jinxes and curses, nothing major, though. They also offer individual
protection from the unforgivable curses. The person acting as the hand can not suffer from the
Cruciatus, the person acting as the mind can not suffer from the Imperious, and the person acting
as the heart can not suffer from the Avada Kedavra, or at least not directly. The three people may
suffer short-term trauma from someone trying to cast these spells on them.”

“That's incredible,” Ron said.

Hermione nodded, “But it's complicated. By wearing these, our control over our powers
changes as well. The hand can perform magic without a wand, the mind can perform magic without even
moving if their wand if it is somewhere on their person, such as in a holster, they can simply use
their brain, and the heart's powers come from their emotions. It's a difficult transition
for each person. The person not in need of a wand needs to learn control of their movements,
because none of the three needs incantations. Likewise, the mind has to have complete control and
power over what they are thinking at all times, and the heart has to have extreme control over
their emotions.”

“So it takes some experience and practice for the people, is that what you're saying?” Harry
asked.

Hermione nodded. “Basically, each person gains strength, but in a way it's in their weakest
area. For example, with the three of us, I would probably be the mind, right?” Harry nodded and Ron
muttered a `duh' in response, causing Hermione to laugh and blush a little.

Oh, so, it's kind of a catch, right? You would be the mind because you are thinking all of
the time, but because you are the mind, you would have to learn to control *all* of the things
you are thinking *all* of the time?” Ron asked and Hermione nodded.

“I think I understand,” Harry replied slowly. “Is that all or is there more?”

Hermione shrugged slightly, “From what I've read it's little things. Being able to feel
when another is in danger. Being extremely in tune with each other. Occasionally we may be able to
tell what the other is thinking.”

Ron laughed, “Is there a downside to any of this?”

Hermione thought for a moment, “Well there is the part about learning to control the powers.
Also, the three people become so in tune with each other that there begins to be a feeling that
other people can't be included, as if they can't intrude on the group or something along
those lines. Everything I researched yesterday and this morning told me that the first few weeks
could be very stressful, like when a baby is learning to walk for the first time. There's also
mentioning of other possible things taking place that the groups of three wouldn't talk about.
What we're talking about is an extreme connection. We can't possibly know how it will be
before it happens.”

“This isn't Dark Magic, is it?” Harry asked and Hermione shook her head. “Which pendant
stands for each part?”

Hermione picked them up off the table and held them out, one at a time. “The diamond is the
hand, because it is the hardest substance, and represents invincibility. The ruby is the heart,
obviously, with red representing the blood that it sends to vital organs. That leaves the emerald
to be the mind. Nothing I researched explained why, but I do know that green as long been seen as a
sign of power, so it could be in relation to that.”

Ron thought for a moment. “Do you reckon we should talk to Professor McGonagall about this?”

Hermione considered this and turned to Harry, “What do you think?”

Harry shrugged. “I suppose it would make sense to bring it up if we were considering asking for
training. If this will affect our powers than the people who will be training us will need to know
that.”

Hermione nodded, “Yes, that's definitely true. Okay, I think I am going to go make a list of
all of the things that we should be sure to talk to Professor McGonagall about tomorrow. Perhaps
you two could go do some more research on Horcruxes?” Though she had asked them, it was painfully
obvious that she was telling them to do it.

Ron sighed, unafraid to mention his annoyance, “Or *perhaps* you could do some research?”
he asked.

Hermione fixed him with a look that made Ron draw back, “Or *perhaps* I spent all of
yesterday afternoon researching the Triptych while you two played Exploding Snap? *Perhaps*
you might have thought about that?”

Ron looked about to reply but Harry cut him off, “I think that *perhaps* we may just do it,
won't we, Ron?” He glanced at the two of them and Ron nodded, “And *perhaps* you could
tell us when to meet you for dinner?” Harry hoped that the thought of food might distract Ron.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look before Hermione spoke, “Actually, Ron and I have something to
do tonight, so we were going to eat separately. Is that okay?” She asked.

Harry studied them suspiciously. What were they playing at? “I suppose so. I'll just ask
Dobby to make so you two can take it with you, and I'll just eat in my room, then.”

Hermione nodded, “Good idea. Well, we should get to it, then.” She stood up and Ron headed up
the up the stairs. Harry was about to follow him when Hermione pulled him back.

“Yes?” Harry asked.

“Check Ron's notes. I highly suspect that he didn't take any this morning.” Hermione
said with a sigh. Harry shrugged and agreed to do it, heading up to his room as she went off to the
study.

When he arrived, he found Ron scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. “Hermione was
right?” Harry asked as he sat down next to Ron at the table. “You didn't take *any* notes
while we were gone?”

Ron's ears turned bright red. “No!” He said, his voice about an octave to high for a
truthful answer. “I was just…adding to these, that's all.”

Harry held his hand out, “Let me see what you've got, then.” Ron reluctantly handed him the
parchment, which had about three inches of information on it. As he looked over it, Harry realized
that this was all information that they already knew about Horcruxes. “You know what this means,
don't you?” Harry asked, setting the parchment down.

“What?”

“It means we have to work even harder now.” Harry answered.

Ron squeaked unhappily, “Why?”

“Because you know Hermione is going to want as much information on Horcruxes as possible before
we go to Godric's Hollow on Friday. We each need to have at least a foot of notes before
dinner. You especially.” Harry replied.

“Why me?” Ron whined.

“I can work on this later tonight, and probably will even if I don't want to. You, however,
will be up to something with Hermione, and I know that the chances of you coming back to work on
this are very little. Now, let's get to work.” Harry pulled a book of the stack and opened it,
skimming the table of contents.

Ron let out a low growl as he did the same, “I thought that our workload would lighten if we
decided not to go back to school.”

Harry looked up at him as if he was possibly the dumbest person on earth, “Then you clearly
don't know Hermione as well as you think you do.” He turned back to his notes and Ron said
nothing in reply, and remained surprisingly quiet. A couple of hours later Harry called Dobby and
asked him to start some dinner, and told the elf that he would be eating in his room. An hour after
that, Ron left for dinner with Hermione (though he only had ten inches of notes, but Harry
wasn't in a mood to argue with him).

Harry ate his dinner in peace, and, though he tried, found it next to impossible to go back to
his note taking. He had over three feet already (mainly about various wizards who had used them and
what the results had been), so he figured that a break was well due. His eyes were worn out from
all of the reading, and Harry decided to rest them and went to lie down on his bed. It was no more
than thirty minutes later that Hermione came charging into his room, pacing back and forth
madly.

Harry sat up and grinned at her, “You know, for this being *my* room, *you* sure do
seem to spend a lot of time in it.”

“Shut it,” Hermione snapped, and Harry was a bit taken aback by her rudeness. Then
Hermione's eyes opened wide and she sent Harry and apologetic glance, “I'm sorry! I
didn't mean that. I'm just so…argh!” She flopped into one of the chairs and then jumped
right back up again, resuming her laps around the room. She was not exactly angry, just…flustered
and worked up.

Harry sighed, “What did you two fight about this time?”

Hermione stopped pacing and frowned, “I'm annoying you, aren't I?”

Harry shook his head, “No, I just know that Ron's the only person who can make you act like
this. So tell me, what happened?”

Hermione sighed and sat on the other end of the bed, facing Harry. “Well, we didn't really
fight, I don't think. It has to do with why we met tonight.”

Harry nodded, urging her to go on.

Hermione seemed to be picking her words carefully. “Surely you've known that Ron's
fancied me for some time now.”

Harry shrugged. “I suppose.” Did she fancy him? Harry did not like this thought for some
reason.

Hermione began to calm down. “Well, the point his he did, or does, or whatever, and confronted
me about it.”

“Yesterday morning?” Harry asked, trying to put the puzzle together in his head.

Hermione nodded, “Yes, in the…”

“Kitchen. Yeah, I knew something was up.” Where was this headed?

Hermione continued, “Well, to be honest, I've never really felt anything for Ron in that
way,” Harry felt oddly relieved to hear this, “but I felt I at least owed it to him to give it a
try. I mean, he is one my best friends. I'd do the same for you, not that you fancy me or
anything.” She added quickly.

“Wait,” Harry had to back up and clarify something, “You agreed to go out with him even after
what he said yesterday?”

Hermione chewed on her lip for a moment, “Well, I felt I should give him the benefit of the
doubt.” Harry nodded, though he could hardly believe it.

“So that's what we were doing tonight.” Hermione went on. “It was a date, I suppose. Rather,
it was more of an experiment, for me that is, and I thought he understood that!” Hermione began to
look stressed again. “But then, Harry, you wouldn't believe it. He thought that…well, I
don't really know *what* he thought…

“He started going on about how happy he was that I agreed to go out with him, and how he had
always known that we were meant to be together. I know.” Hermione said in response to Harry's
eyes nearly falling out of their sockets. “He said that we should probably wait before telling his
mum, *so she wouldn't start making the bridesmaids' dresses yet*…” Hermione sighed and
turned, lying on her back across the foot of her bed with her arm over her face. “It just went
downhill from there. I decided to be honest and told him that I wasn't even sure that I felt
anything for him, and I could tell he was horribly embarrassed, so he covered it up with his anger
and started yelling at me, asking me why I would agree to go out with him if I wasn't sure. It
was like he believed that, by agreeing to eat dinner with him, I was pledging to be his soulmate!”
She exhaled loudly and closed her eyes. “I feel so stupid!”

Harry stared at her for a few moments, unsure of what to say, “So… you just left?”

Hermione sat up, “Well I couldn't very well stay!”

Harry nodded and held up his hands as a sign of peace, “No, I was just wondering why you came
here, that's all.”

Hermione thought for a moment, “Well, I suppose I wanted a guy's perspective, that's
all. I mean, did you ever think like that, when you were with Cho or Ginny? That you wanted to
marry them, I mean.”

Harry frowned as he realized that he had never considered marrying either of them. “No, I
can't say that I did. Cho was more of an infatuation. And Ginny…well, I'm still working on
that, but I don't think I would have ever married her.”

Hermione nodded, and crawled over to the other side of the bed, lying on her stomach in front of
him. “Do you ever think about things like that? Marriage and all?”

Harry tried to remember a time when he had, but realized that he had not given it much thought.
“I don't suppose I have. I mean, I never really had a reason to, did I? I was always happy to
live until tomorrow.”

Hermione seemed troubled to hear this. “You *should* think about those things, Harry, even
if so they only give you a reason to live.”

Harry shrugged, “I would hardly know where to start. I don't really have much to go off
on.”

Hermione sat up and scooted next to him, “I'll help you, then. Let's start with the
basics. Would you want children?”

Harry felt very put on the spot. “I…don't know. I think I would like a family of my own some
day, but I wouldn't really know how to be a father.”

Hermione smiled, “I'm sure you could figure it out, Harry. At the very least, I am sure your
wife would know how to be a parent, and that she would help you. How many would you want?”

Harry shrugged, “I'd probably just leave that up to her. Money wouldn't be an issue,
obviously.”

“And here I thought you would say seven just so you could have your own Quidditch team.”
Hermione teased him.

Harry grinned, “If I played Seeker I would only need six. How many children do you want?” He
asked, turning the conversation on her.

Hermione sighed, thinking, “I'd have to say three or four, and I want my first-born to be a
boy, so he could watch out for his little sisters.”

“Just hope you don't get all boys, then.” Harry replied.

“Oh, well, then I'd just leave them to my husband,” Hermione said with a laugh.

“Wouldn't he be lucky,” Harry chuckled and Hermione gave him a light smack on the arm.

Thinking about Ron, Harry excused himself for a moment (not telling Hermione where he was going,
though he assumed she figured it out) and looked around the house, only to find Ron pretending to
be asleep in his room. When he did not move after the third time Harry tapped him on the shoulder,
Harry gave up and went back to Hermione.

They continued talking for several hours, moving on to various subjects; sometimes back to Ron,
until they were eventually talking about nothing at all. At some point they had both lain down, and
after a pause in the conversation Hermione yawned loudly, her eyes drooping.

“You should go to bed, and then I can go to sleep,” Harry said, barely keeping his eyes open as
well.

Hermione yawned again, “Too…tired…can't…move,” she yawned once more, forcing Harry to yawn
in return.

“You know…this is…starting…to become,” he yawned, “a habit.”

“It's not my fault that your bed is more comfortable than mine.” She answered sleepily. “I
slept like a baby last night.”

“I hardly think that counts as an excuse.” Harry replied quietly.

“It doesn't matter, you don't have the energy to kick me out, and you know it.” Hermione
smiled and snuggled into the pillow.

Harry sighed, “Fine, but this is not happening again.”

Hermione grinned and closed her eyes, “Whatever you…” Harry did not hear anything else, for he
was already unconscious.

When Harry woke up, the first thing he saw was Hermione's foot. (Had she moved in the middle
of the night? Harry noted that she still had a pillow under her head.) The second thing he saw was
Ron's face.

“What in the bloody hell happened here?” He asked Harry quietly.

“Um…Hermione came in here and told me about what happened last night.” Harry watched as
Ron's face flushed.

Ron hesitated, “How much did she tell you?”

Harry looked at him guiltily, “A lot. It's fine, mate.” He said in response to Ron
embarrassment, “We can talk about it later or something, if you want.”

Ron shrugged, “That sounds good. I'm sorry about last night, I just…needed some time to
myself.” Harry nodded with understanding. “I'm not sure what she told you and I wouldn't
want you thinking I was some poor confused bloke or something like that.”

Harry smiled, putting on his glasses, “Ron, you're my best friend. I do not have to think
that you are a poor confused bloke, because I know it for a fact. What'd you come up here
for?”

“McGonagall's here. She's talking to Dobby downstairs.” Ron looked at Hermione with an
odd look on his face. “Why didn't she go back to her bed?”

Harry shrugged, “She didn't want to. You go keep McGonagall company, and I'll wake
Hermione, okay?”

Ron nodded and left the room, sending one last (rather sad) glance Hermione's way. As Harry
looked down at her foot, contemplating how to wake her, a thought came to his mind, and he gently
ran the tips of his fingers up and down her foot.

Hermione immediately jerked it away and scrunched her face up, but she did not wake. Harry
smiled and repeated the motion, and the same thing happened again. He did it again, this time
continuing to tickle the foot as she jerked it away, her eyes snapping open a moment later as she
started laughing.

“What are you doing?” She asked as Harry continued to tickle her foot, laughing all of the
while. “Harry stop. Harry, I said stop. Harry, stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” She finally
managed to pull her foot away, kicking Harry's hand, and sit up. “What was that for?” she
asked, breathing heavily.

“McGonagall's here,” Harry answered, “And I needed to wake you up. It seemed to work just as
good as anything. I wasn't sure if you would be ticklish on your feet, too.” He smiled at
her.

Hermione fixed him with a fake glare before getting out of the bed, “Look at you, so pleased
with yourself. Rest assured, though, that I will get you back.” And with that, she left the
room.

Harry changed into fresh clothes and headed down to the kitchen, realizing with start that it
was almost eleven, making it the second day in a row that he had slept late. Maybe his bed was
really great after all and Hermione was right, Harry thought to himself.

“Good Morning, Mr. Potter,” Professor (or, Harry thought, Headmistress) McGonagall said upon his
entrance. Harry took a seat next to Hermione, who was already there, with the Triptych in the bag
and her notes lying out on the table. The professor turned to Hermione, “May I inquire as to what
this meeting is about?”

“Well, you see, Professor,” Hermione began, “What we're setting out to do is quite
dangerous, and we thought that, since we are lacking all seven standard years of schooling, perhaps
we could get some training.”

“And who did you want to train you?” she asked.

“Well, you would be a great start, and we were also thinking of some other Order members. That
is, if the Order of the Phoenix is still around.”

Professor McGonagall nodded, “I think that training would be a good idea. I will get in contact
with some people and see what we can work out. The Order of the Phoenix is still around, but we are
currently a bit inactive, trying to find a place to set up Headquarters.”

“Why don't you set Headquarters up here?” Harry asked. “I mean, this is where you used to
meet before.”

“I appreciate the generosity, Mr. Potter, but this house would have to be put under a series of
protections before that would happen.” Professor McGonagall said.

“Right, because it was under the Fidelius, and Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper!” Hermione
said.

“Exactly, Miss Granger. We would need to recast the Fidelius and find a new Secret Keeper, which
is no simple task. Now, is there anything else you called me for today?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, looking at Ron and Harry, “It has to do with our training. You see we have
the Triptych. Or at least I believe we do.”

Professor McGonagall looked at them in shock, and then looked at the bag Hermione was holding,
“Is that what is in the bag?” Hermione nodded. “May I see the necklaces?” Hermione nodded again and
handed over the bag. Professor McGonagall examined them for an extended amount of time, inspecting
each crevice and molding. When she finally set the third necklace down, she spoke. “Well, I must
say, if this is not the real thing it is an extraordinary replication. Where did you get it?”

“It was in Harry's vault,” Ron answered.

Professor McGonagall nodded, “I assume it arrived with the Black Family Fortune?”

They all nodded in response.

“I strongly suspected they had it,” she said with a grim look. “Am I correct in assuming that
you three plan to use these?” They nodded again. “And have you figured out which part you are match
up with?”

“Not yet,” Harry answer. “We know that Hermione's the mind.”

The professor nodded, “Yes, well, I suppose that would be a given. Miss Granger, have you any
ideas of how the other two might work out?” She asked.

“Well…” Hermione began slowly, avoiding Ron's gaze, “I believe that Ron would be the hand
and Harry would be the heart.”

“Why?” Ron and Harry asked.

Hermione looked at Harry. “Well, this is just a theory, but Ron tends to be very active and rash
in his decisions, while, if you do choose to act, your actions tend to be rooted in your
emotions.”

Harry nodded, but Ron shook his head, “I think you're wrong.”

“Oh? And why is that, Mr. Weasley?” Professor McGonagall questioned.

Ron seemed very hesitant. Proving Hermione wrong was no easy feat. “It's just that I
believe, while I can see why Hermione would say that, some things don't match up. In fact,
Harry's much more proactive and reactive than I am, and while it is sometimes linked to his
emotions, it's also instinct for him to act. As for me, every time I act it is always in direct
relation to my emotions, such as my temper…or embarrassment.” His ears turned read and he looked at
Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall pondered this for a moment, “Well, as surprised as I am to say it, I
believe Mr. Weasley is right. It's Harry's instinct to act. While there may be emotion
there, I doubt it is always the lone purpose.” She turned to Hermione, “When were you planning to
begin using these?”

“I wasn't sure. I wanted your opinion, since this will affect our magic as well as our
training.” Hermione said.

“I would say put them on as soon as possible. Tonight even, would be fine. The sooner you do it
the better. Your powers will be slightly weaker at first, so you want to begin at the early stages
of your journey, before putting them on may place you in danger. Am I understood?” Professor
McGonagall asked.

“Yes,” The three of them said in response.

She nodded. “Good. Now, I got an owl from Remus Lupin. Am I correct that you are planning to go
to Godric's Hollow tomorrow?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Harry said.

“Do you have any idea of what to expect when you get there?”

Harry shook his head. “I've been told that they, my parents, are buried out there, but know
nothing about the house.”

“It's still there,” Professor McGonagall informed him. “The Ministry paid to keep it there,
and when you become of age it will belong to you. I brought the key,” She pulled a small key out of
her robes and placed it in the table in front of Harry, “So that you may go inside. Everything is
as it was, with a few repairs. Whether or not you choose to go in is up to you, Mr. Potter.”

Harry nodded, placing the key in his pocket. “Thank you.”

Professor McGonagall smiled just slightly, “Is there anything else you three needed?” Hermione
shook her head and Ron and Harry did the same. “Well then I should be going. Let me get a hold of
some people, and I'll come back on Monday. We can arrange a schedule then.” With a curt nod,
she Disapparated.

“Well,” said Hermione after a moment, “That's a lot of information to work through at once.
Do you suppose we should put on the necklaces tonight like she suggested?” Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged and Harry spoke, “Is there some kind of ritual to perform?”

Hermione shook her head. “What I read told me that we simply need to be sitting in a triangle of
sorts, facing each other, and put them on together after the sun sets. If we do it correctly and we
each are wearing the correct one, the necklaces will glow to signify that their magic is
active.”

Harry nodded. “I suppose. We could do it up in my room, so we don't have to worry about
being disturbed in case someone should come by.”

Hermione nodded. “Great. Do you two want some lunch?” She got up and walked over to the icebox,
searching through its contents.

“Actually I'm not very hungry. I think I'll just go up to my room, maybe write Mum or
something. I'll see you guys later,” Ron exited the room.

Hermione winced, “So there went my hopes that last night might blow over as some kind of bad
dream.”

“Give him time,” Harry said. “He just needs to get used to the idea that you two may never be
together.”

Hermione nodded and closed the icebox, sitting back down next to Harry and dropping her head on
his shoulder. “Do you think I really hurt him?”

“Maybe,” Harry said and Hermione sighed, “But you know Ron. He will move on, eventually. In a
day or two, when the memory isn't so fresh for him, you could try talking to him about it.”

Hermione nodded. “Since when are you the expert?”

Harry shrugged a little, jostling her head, “Since you two forced me to be, I suppose.”

“Well, I suppose it's good if at least one of us knows what they're talking about.”
Hermione said.

Harry snorted. “Just because I'm an expert doesn't mean I know what I'm talking
about.”

Hermione lifted her head and laughed for a few moments, “That makes no sense at all, Harry.”

Harry stood, “I'm not very hungry anymore. I think I'll go up to my room and read or
something.”

Hermione stood as well, “Would it be alright if I kept you company?”

“I suppose.” They walked up to Harry's room. Harry scanned the bookshelves, trying to find
something that he might actually want to read.

Hermione did the same, pulling a book out for herself, and then another one, “Here, it's
about Aurors.” She handed him the book and they walked over to the bed, leaning against pillows
propped up by the headboard.

They sat there quietly for hours, reading. Harry was fascinated by the Auror book, and found
himself wanting to pursue the career even more. Hermione had finished her first book, which was
almost twice as long as Harry's and pulled out another book. As they quietly turned the pages,
time flew by, and before long it was dark out, and Ron came in.

“Hey. Should we get to it, then?” He asked, referring to the Triptych.

Hermione looked up, surprised, and looked down at her watch. “Wow! Yes, Ron, we should. Let me
run down and get the necklaces.” She set her book on one of Harry's bedside tables and left the
room.

Ron walked over to the bed awkwardly, “Say, Harry?”

“Yeah Ron?” Harry asked as he placed his book on the other table.

“Well, you said that we could talk this morning. And I was wondering, if maybe, after we
finished with this, if we could do that?” Ron's face turned red.

“Sure,” Harry replied and Ron smiled with relief.

“Okay,” Hermione said, walking back into the room. “This shouldn't take very long, since
there really isn't a process. Let's come sit on the floor.” Harry got up and the three of
them sat on the floor in a triangle.

Hermione pulled out the three necklaces and laid them out on the floor, the appropriate pendant
in front of each person. Harry looked down at the pendant in front of him, the prominent diamond in
the middle of a teardrop. “So now what do we do?” He asked Hermione.

Hermione took a deep breath. “Now all that we do is put them on at the same time. So, pick them
up…” All three of them picked up their necklaces, “And I suppose on the count of three?”

Neither of them counted for a moment, simply staring at the objects in front of them. After the
pause they all took a deep breath and Ron spoke, “Okay, one…”

“Two,” Harry said.

“Three.” Hermione said and they all quickly pulled the chains over their heads. When he let go
of his, Harry felt the chain tightening just slightly around his neck, securing itself in place,
and he saw Ron and Hermione's doing the same. They all stayed completely still for a moment,
not daring to breath, and then, together, each of the jewels glowed faintly, illuminating the dark
room. Harry wondered inwardly when the lights went out.

When the glowing subsided, they stayed in the dark, breathing quietly.

“Blimey, did you feel that?” Ron asked.

Harry and Hermione nodded. Harry had indeed, felt something change inside of him. He
couldn't place a finger on it, but he could definitely sense it.

Hermione was the first to move, standing and pulling out her wand.

“What are you doing, Hermione?” Ron asked with curiosity.

Hermione paused, “I was going to turn the lights back on.”

Why don't you try doing it…you know, without your wand?” Ron suggested.

Hermione nodded and stowed her wand in her pocket. She stood there for a moment, not moving,
though Harry could tell that she was clearly concentrating. After a moment she let out a sigh and
pulled out her wand, turning the lights on manually.

“Looks like we've got a long way to go,” Harry said.

Hermione nodded, “I think I'm going to go to bed, maybe eat something.” She gave them a
faint wave and left.

Ron turned to Harry, “She's right. I am hungry, too. Think we could get Dobby to bring us
something?”

Harry nodded. “Dobby?” He asked and the elf popped in front of him, at eye level in Harry was
sitting.

“Yes, Harry Potter, sir?”

“Could you bring me and Ron some sandwiches or something like that? And maybe something to
drink? If you see Hermione, could you give it to her, too? Then she won't have to make herself
something.” Dobby smiled and nodded, popping out.

Harry went over and sat on his bed, “So I'm assuming this is about Hermione.”

Ron nodded. “You said she told you about what happened last night.” He sat across from
Harry.

“She told me that you thought she was your soulmate.” Harry replied. Ron nodded with a blush.
“Why?” Harry asked.

Ron shrugged, “It makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, Mum's crazy about her, and everyone
is always saying that we act like an old married couple… I just thought that it would work.”

Harry noticed that Ron said nothing about loving Hermione, “Do you love her?” He asked.

“Of course,” Ron replied a bit too quickly. “I mean, sure, she isn't much to look at,
but…”

“You were serious when you said that?!” Harry had thought that Ron was just picking on Hermione
the other day, but did he really think Hermione was not beautiful?

Ron looked a little dumbfounded, “Well, I'm not saying she's ugly or anything…”

Harry snorted. “That's good, considering she isn't.”

Ron looked at Harry with an odd expression, “Are you telling me that you actually think Hermione
is *beautiful*?”

Harry didn't hesitate. “Yes. And, considering you think she's your soulmate I would
expect you to think the same thing. Actually” he went on, “I would expect you to think that anyway,
since she is.”

Ron sat in silence for a few moments, blinking at Harry, as if trying to figure something out.
“I'm a stupid prat.” Ron said after a moment, causing Harry to laugh.

“You're not a prat, Ron. Moreover, you are not stupid. Well, at least not all of the time.
It's just, I don't get you. You say you thought Hermione was your soul mate, but the way
you talk about it, it is as if you are settling. I don't really know much about this soul mate
business, but it just seems that if she was really your soul mate you wouldn't think you were
settling at all.” Harry pondered this. “It just doesn't make much sense, if you think about
it.”

“I suppose you're right. Do you think she'll ever forgive me?” Ron looked at Harry with
a hopeful expression.

Harry rolled his eyes, “If she didn't I would be very surprised.”

“It's odd, though.” Ron said, twiddling his thumbs.

“What is?”

“Well, I just always assumed that Hermione and I would end up together. Now I don't have
anyone. What does that make me?”

Harry shrugged, “Like all of the rest of us, I suppose. Do you think I have a clue about who
I'm going to end up with?”

Ron looked up at him, shocked, “I thought you would end up with Ginny!”

Harry shook his head, “I highly doubt I'll end up with Ginny, and, no offense, but I
don't think I want to. Besides, she's back together with Dean now.”

“Oh,” Ron deflated slightly. “I thought it would be kind of cool to have you as a brother.”

“I don't have to marry Ginny to be your brother. I think I have always thought of you as a
brother, really. Your family's like my family.”

“Really?” Ron smiled. A plate of sandwiches appeared on the bed and he grabbed one, eating
hungrily. “Tho I thpothe I thud talp too Humine, huh?”

Harry laughed, taking a sandwich himself. “What was that?”

Ron chewed and swallowed. “I suppose I should talk to Hermione.”

Harry nodded, “I'd say that's a good idea, though you might want to wait until
you're done eating, so she can understand what you're saying.”

Ron agreed and continued eating, going to talk about how he expected the Cannons to do this
year, asking if they could go see the World Cup, maybe, if they made it. After he had consumed two
sandwiches he bid Harry goodnight and went off to find Hermione.

Once he was gone, Harry took a shower and changed into his nightclothes consisting of a white
t-shirt and red pajama pants with snitches on them. He climbed into bed, read a little and then
turned out the lights, trying to go to sleep.

Of course, he had no such luck. Harry lay there for about an hour, wide-awake though he was
horribly tired, before giving up and donning his bathrobe. He headed down to the kitchen, thinking
that a cup of tea might relax him properly.

Harry had just put the kettle on the stove when Hermione came walking in, surprised to see him.
“What are you doing down here?” She asked.

“Making some tea. I couldn't sleep. You want some?”

Hermione nodded. “I couldn't sleep either.” She sat down at the table.

Harry came over and sat next to her. “Did you talk to Ron?”

“Yes, he seems better now.” She fingered her pendant. “I don't feel that much different,
yet. Do you?”

Harry shook his head and stood as the kettle already began to whistle. He poured two cups and
stuck tea bags in them, bringing them over to the table. “When will we start noticing changes in
our magic?”

Hermione gently dunked her tea bag “I don't know. It is suppose to be different according to
the person. Some people could continue to use their wands for magic while others could only use it
according to how the Triptych allows.” She took a sip of her tea and Harry did the same.

They continued drinking their tea in silence. When Harry finished his cup he stood and cleaned
it out, putting it away, then taking Hermione's when she was finished and doing the same. “I
think I'm going to go to bed. I'm not really sure if I'll fall asleep, but I might as
well try.”

Hermione waited a moment and then spoke just as he was about to exit the kitchen, “Harry. Could
I maybe…I mean, would you mind terribly if I…”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Remind me to take you mattress shopping on Saturday.” He smiled and held
out his arm.

Hermione beamed and laced her arm through his. “Thank you!”

They headed up to his room and got into the bed. As the lights went out, Harry snuggled under
the covers and was soon asleep.

~*~

A/N: *deep breath* Okay, so, as I said, that was one long chapter. Next chapter we will finally
be off to Godric's Hollow, which you all have been waiting for as well. I would love to say
thank you to my betas LadyStarlight, who left some excellent comments and gave some great ideas,
and Dedi, who finished it late at night just for me! They are so awesome, and I know from
experience how long it takes to beta, especially a chapter as long as this one, so I am forever
grateful. I would also thank to thank those of you who have reviewed thus far. Your feedback is
great, and it helps me so much (as well as encourages me with finishing those chapters quicker,
just so I can get more reviews). If you enjoy this story, please show your support by rating
it!

Until next chapter…. :)

-->



6. Godric's Hollow
------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych.

By Vickles

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

Author's Note, **please read**: Okay, this chapter took a bit longer to get out, for
which I am sorry. This is an important chapter, though, and required more careful writing than
usual. I also did some rewrites and made a layout of Godric's Hollow, which I suggest people
see after they finish the chapter (you risk spoiling the chapter if you look before reading it). If
any of you have not figured it out yet, I am a fan of quality over quantity, which means that I
work really hard on each chapter. If it takes a little longer to get to you, then that means
I'm working to make the chapter that much better. This chapter is rather long, at about 6000
words. Please read my author's note at the bottom, since I do not want to waste space up here
and would rather let you read the chapter first. So, without further ado, let's get to
Godric's Hollow!

~*~

Chapter 6: Godric's Hollow

~*~

Well, this is odd,” Harry slowly opened his eyes to the sound of Remus' voice. He lifted his
head and was immediately greeted with the sight of long, purple hair.

Tonks gave him a funny look, glanced over his shoulder, and the stared back at him, “What on
Earth are you doing, Potter?”

“Now, hon, I'm sure that Harry has a perfectly good explanation for this.” Remus placed a
gentle hand of Tonks's shoulder as she stood.

Harry yawned and sat up. He rubbed his eyes, putting on his glasses, “Explanation for what?”

Remus nodded towards the bed with an odd expression. Harry looked and saw Hermione sleeping
peacefully, a sight that made him smile slightly despite himself.

“Oh, you mean Hermione.” Tonks nodded as if this had been painfully obvious, which Harry
supposed it had been. “Well, she couldn't sleep and insists that my bed is more comfortable
than hers.”

Tonks' jaw dropped severely, “She's slept in here before?!” She calmed a bit and grinned
just barely, “Damn.”

Remus elbowed her slightly, “We're not supposed to condone this kind or behavior.”

“It's not what you guys are thinking,” Harry said, though they did not seem to believe him.
Harry could understand this, and realized with a slap of reality that Hermione had not spent a full
night in her bed since they had arrived. “Seriously. She just couldn't sleep, that's
all.”

Tonks nodded, though she obviously still didn't believe him, “And, the other time?”

Other *times.* Harry inwardly reminded himself. “She had a nightmare the other night. It
really freaked her out, and she didn't want to go back to her room.”

Remus frowned, “Hermione's having nightmares? What about?”

Harry felt a pang of guilt, “Er, well, I died.”

Tonks and Remus shared a look that Harry failed to translate. Tonks sighed, “Well, wake her up,
and we'll go get Ron.”

“Er, could you guys not tell him that she spent the night here?” Harry asked cautiously.

“Why not? I thought you said that nothing was going on,” Remus replied with a smug look.

“Nothing is. It's just that…well, Ron and Hermione are on delicate terms right now. I need
them to get along, especially today. Please?” Harry practically pleaded.

Remus and Tonks nodded, exiting the room. Harry turned to Hermione, who was still sleeping
soundly.

“Hermione?” he said quietly, tapping her on the shoulder. He leaned over her, looking down at
her face, and gently ran his hand along her cheek. “Hermione?”

Hermione slowly began to stir, her eyes fluttering open. She glanced around the room before her
eyes landed on Harry. “Good morning,” she smiled sleepily.

Harry smiled back, getting off the bed, “Good morning. Remus and Tonks are here.”

Hermione sat up, stretching her arms and yawning, “Thank you for not tickling me this
morning.”

Harry laughed, taking clothes from his trunk, “You're welcome. You better go to your room
before Ron realizes that you were here all night.”

Hermione nodded and stood. Before leaving, she walked over and gave Harry a hug from behind.
“Are you sure you're ready for today?” she asked, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Harry nodded, “As ready as I'll ever be.” He turned around and returned the hug. “Thank you
for asking.”

Hermione smiled and headed to the door, “That's what I'm here for. I'll meet you in
the kitchen in a bit.” She exited down the stairs.

Harry sighed, then got dressed and sat back down on the bed. He let his mind wander for a
moment, preparing himself for the day ahead of him. Harry was not sure what to expect. Would it be
painful? Would it hurt? What would he see? What did the house look like? What did their graves look
like? Would he be brought to tears? Would the people with him expect him to cry and be disappointed
if he did not? Harry had so many questions, and they would all be answered today.

After a moment, Harry took a deep breath and pulled himself up off the bed, heading down to the
kitchen. When he arrived, he grabbed a muffin off the table and sat down next to Hermione. As the
other four people at the table carried on conversations, Harry nibbled the muffin, tearing pieces
off and not really paying much attention to anything. As everyone began to get up from the table,
Harry shoved the last bits in his mouth and chewed quickly.

“Do you have the key?” Remus asked Harry.

“Oh, no, it's up in my pants pocket. I'll be right back.” Harry headed up the stairs.
Once inside his room, he fetched the key from his trousers, holding it firmly in his hand. He stood
there for a minute, hesitating. He was ready for this, Harry kept telling himself. It did not
matter how many times he thought it, though, as his hands began to tremble slightly. Suddenly Harry
felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and realized it was Ron's.

“Hey mate,” Ron said with a half smile.

“Hey,” Harry replied feebly.

Ron put his other hand on Harry's opposite shoulder, “Ready to face the past?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, I just…got a little nervous.” Harry felt his face flush slightly with
embarrassment.

Ron tilted his head in understanding, and then headed the door, turning and waiting for Harry
once he reached it, “C'mon, Harry,” the corner of his lip twitched with encouragement,
“Hermione and I will be there.”

“Right, yeah, you're right.” He followed Ron out the door, shutting it behind him.

When they reached the main hallway, Remus began speaking, “Does anyone besides me know how to
get there?”

“Professor McGonagall gave us the coordinates, but we weren't really sure where to
Apparate.” Hermione answered.

“Can we even Apparate?” Ron asked Hermione, who nodded.

“Why wouldn't you?” Tonks asked.

As Ron began to stutter, Hermione replied, not missing a beat, “It's just that we don't
know where it is and we are a bit inexperienced with Apparating.”

Remus nodded, clearly buying it, “Okay, the each of you needs to grab an arm. I think I have a
place in mind.” Ron and Tonks took hold of Remus's right arm and Harry, sticking the key in his
pocket, and Hermione clutched the left. After a moment, Harry was filled with that familiar
sensation of Apparating.

They landed inside of what appeared to be a small shed. Everyone except Tonks let go of
Remus's arms. “Where are we?” Ron asked.

Remus sighed, “We are in the abandoned shed, for lack of a better name. I'm glad that it is
still here.” He opened the worn door and they followed him. Remus stared at the shed and
smiled.

Harry knew that he must have been remembering something, “What is it? What are you thinking
about?”

“Well, Harry, you learned to walk at a fairly young age, you see. I think you were only about
five months old, which is young even for a wizard. Your mother and father bragged about it
constantly, and you really enjoyed walking, and were soon running. Except one day, your mother was
gardening, you were outside with her, and then you ran off. Scared the wits out of her, you did.
She was in hysterics, calling everyone in the neighborhood to a search. She thought she had failed
you as a mother.

“In the end you were missing no more than fifteen minutes or so. One of the neighbors found you
playing in this shed. You were returned to Lily and she started crying and kissing you all over,
vowing you never let you escape her vision again, and she actually stuck to it for the most part
until a few months later, when, well…until she…” Remus let the sentence fall, a downcast expression
now etched upon his face.

“Until she died,” Harry finished for him. He waited a minute, looking at the shed, and then
changed the subject, swallowing the lump that was slowly developing in his throat, “So, where is
it?”

Remus turned and pointed up the road, “It's at the top of the hill. I'll lead the way.”
He turned and began heading up the street on the nicely paved sidewalk.

Harry walked, with Hermione on one side and Ron on the other. He looked around at the peaceful
neighborhood with the beautiful, unique, and some rather large houses. Harry saw some kids playing
on a swing set.

*That could have been me.* Harry thought to himself, sadly. Harry tried to remember ever
swinging on a swing set just for fun, and found that he could not. He watched their laughing faces,
and found that he could not remember laughing as a child, except for the rare occasions when Dudley
did something particularly stupid.

They approached the end of the street and Harry saw a quaint house, small compared to the others
on the street, but still plenty large and seemingly perfect for a young family. There was a
beautiful garden; the same that his mother had been working on when he had run away. There were so
many memories that he had here, but Harry knew none of them himself.

As they approached the low white picket fence, Harry began to walk slower, his hands trembling
once again. Almost as if on cue, Hermione placed a hand in Harry's and Ron did the same, both
of them squeezing tightly. Harry looked at the two of them with gratitude, and together they
stepped into the yard.

Harry hesitated before speaking to Remus, “Where are they…where were they…can we…?” Remus nodded
with comprehension and understanding and led them around the house, Tonks supporting him.

They reached the backyard and Harry nearly lost it right there. In the middle of the yard was a
swing set, with one seat made for a small child, two regular seats, and slide on the side. About
seven or eight meters away there was a large prominent tombstone under the shade of a weeping
willow.

Harry, still clutching his friend's hands to hold himself up, combed through the hanging
branches, leaving the sunlight behind. The stone was about two meters in front of him, but he could
not go closer, not yet. Harry noticed that Remus and Tonks had stayed outside, and soon, with
gentle pats on the back and shoulder, Hermione and Ron left him, sensing his need for a moment
alone.

Harry waited another moment before taking a few steps forward, now in front of the stone that
almost seemed to be mocking him with its innocent stillness. Harry sat on the soft green grass,
reaching and arm out and placing it on the stone, reading its lines.

*James Potter
Beloved son, friend, and father

Lily Evans-Potter
Beloved daughter, sister, friend, and mother

May you love in Heaven as you did on Earth.*

Harry's lip trembled as he read it several times. He looked down at the fresh earth beneath
him. This was where they had been buried. He was so close to them, yet so far away.

“Mom?” Harry whispered, choking on the word, “Dad?” The tombstone remained steadfast and
unchanging. “Can you hear me?” Harry looked up into the branches of the tree. “It's me, Harry.
Your son.”

As he sat, Harry felt his eyes begin to sting and his throat tighten. “I miss you.” Harry was
not sure why he was talking, but that did not stop him. “I miss you all of the time. Sometimes at
breakfast at Hogwarts, when the other students get letters from their parents, it hurts really bad,
and then some other times it's not so bad, but it still hurts.”

“I'm supposed to save the world, you know,” Harry went on, “I'm not even of age yet and
everyone expects me to save them. I have to kill Voldemort,” the name of his parents' murderer
felt foul on his tongue suddenly, “just like he killed you.”

Harry took a shaky breath, “The problem is, I feel something missing. It is just this hole
inside of me that nothing seems to fill. It is as if I am missing some kind of organ. I'm
supposed to save the world and I'm not even whole.”

Harry's skin began to glisten due to the warm summer day. “Say hi to Sirius and Dumbledore
for me. Hopefully, it will be a long time before I see any of you, but I won't count on it.

“I have two best friends, you know. I am sure you watch from wherever you are. They are the
best, Hermione and Ron. They cannot fill that hole that I told you about, but they sure do make it
smaller.”

Harry found himself running out of things to say, “I suppose that I should go back to the
others, they'll be waiting for me.” He waited a few long moments, not quite wanting to leave
just yet. His hand lingered on the tombstone for a second before he stood and turned to go, “Bye
for now, I guess.” Harry swiped at his watery eyes, and left through the curtain of branches.

The first thing he saw was Hermione standing just outside; Ron sitting over of the swing set,
unmoving. Both of them watched him closely. Remus and Tonks were nowhere to be seen. Hermione
stared at him for a moment with clear hesitation, before moving towards him, opening her arms.

It was all that Harry needed. No sooner were her arms around him than he was clutching onto her
desperately, his body rocking with unchecked sobs. He could not understand it or explain it, but he
could not stop it either as tears flowed from his eyes, forming a puddle on Hermione's shirt.
It was as if her touch had pulled some kind of emotional plug. They stood there for several
minutes, Harry holding Hermione tightly, his head bowed over onto her shoulder as she gently ran
her hands through his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear. Ron stayed on the swing, watching
but not interrupting.

As he began to calm down, Harry loosened his grip on Hermione, stepping back slightly, “I'm
sorry,” he said, barely loud enough for her to hear.

Hermione shook her head as if she would not think of it, “Don't be.”

Harry sighed and wiped his face with his sleeve, looking over at Ron as well and speaking so
they could both hear him clearly, “Where did Remus and Tonks go?”

“They're waiting around front,” Ron answered, approaching the two of them. “Remus said that
when you're ready we could go in.”

Harry nodded, “Okay. Let's go.” He unconsciously took Hermione's hand and led them
around the house. Remus and Tonks were sitting on the grass, Tonks's head resting on
Remus's shoulder. When they saw the trio, they stood and brushed the grass off their pants.

“Are we going in?” Remus asked.

Harry nodded, “We should all look for…things that might be useful. Do you know where anything
might be?”

“A little, from what I remember of the house. I haven't been inside since the week it
happened,” Remus said.

“Right. Well then, you two can look together, and the three of us will look together.” He took
his hand out of Hermione's, pulled out the key, and walked to the door. His hand paused in mid
air, just inches from the keyhole. After several moments, Hermione placed her hand on his, guiding
it to the keyhole and turning the key gently. She then pulled the key out and stowed it in her
pocket.

Harry gave her a look of gratitude, and then carefully turned the doorknob, pushing the door
open and walking in, everyone close behind him. About two meters in front of the door was a
staircase leading straight upstairs. Harry turned to the left, heading into what appeared to be the
living room and, despite what Harry had said about splitting up, everyone followed him.

“Your mother designed the house herself,” Remus said, “and James had it built for her.”

Harry looked around the room. There was a large couch was covered two sides of the room, with a
prominent coffee table. Pictures were hung all over, but Harry wanted to see the whole house before
looking at those. He turned to his right and walked alongside the staircase through what appeared
to be a dining room, and then through a doorway, leading to a vast kitchen.

“This is where your mother did all of her cooking and laundry. James couldn't cook to save
his life, and despised laundry, so he rarely came in here, but Lily loved to cook. She spent almost
as much time in here as she did in her library.”

“Her library?” Harry and Hermione asked at the same time.

Remus nodded and laughed a little, “Surely after what you've heard of your mother you know
that she loved reading about as much as Hermione. Come on, I'll show you.” He led them back to
the foyer and crossed to the other side of the hall, leading them into a rather vast library.

“Wow,” Harry breathed as he looked at the room. Every wall was lined with books as well as some
bookshelves that were standing in the middle of the room. In one corner, the only corner where no
books resided except for one on a small table was a big, comfortable looking chair, with a window
right beside it, looking out on the garden. “Why is there only one chair?” Harry asked
curiously.

“Oh,” Remus smiled, “It was pretty much known that this was Lily's room. In fact, I've
never been in here before today. Even James was not allowed in here. The only other person whoever
came in here besides Lily was you, Harry.”

“Me?” Harry asked.

Remus nodded, pointing to a picture on the small table, next to the book. Harry looked closely
and saw a very miniature version of him jumping on the chair, waving at whoever was taking the
picture. “See? She spoiled you, she did.”

Harry felt his eyes sting as he looked at the picture. “What else is there?”

Remus led them back into the hallway and led them into the room immediately next to the library.
“This is the study. James hated to be away from you and your mother, so he worked at home whenever
he could. Lily also did any of the work she had at home. She did inventory for Flourish and Blotts,
as well as ordering any new books when they needed them. That's why your play room is right
next to this room.”

“I had a play room?” Harry asked, almost not believing it.

Remus chuckled, “I told you that you were spoiled.” He crossed the room and they all walked
through an archway on the right.

Harry could not believe his eyes. Before him was a rather large room, full of toys. There was a
miniature Quidditch set in the corner, still open, and a little broom was propped up next to it, no
more than a meter in length. There was also a rocking horse, as well as various stuffed animals.
Harry's eyes began to glaze over as he looked at all of the many toys that he had never known
as a child at the Dursleys'. The walls were decorated with hand-painted animals, all smiling
innocently. If Harry looked closely, he could see a miniature version of himself playing in this
room.

Across the room, a door led to an enclosed porch. Without saying anything, Harry headed back
through the study, through the small foyer, and up the stairs. Once he reached the second floor
hallway, he saw a door immediately in front of him, a door to his left, and a door to his right.
Harry opened the door on the left and found what must have been his parents' room.

Harry had noticed while going through the house that most things had been left as they were. He
looked over next to his parents' bed, and saw a book, most likely on his mother's side,
still marked.

“Oh.” Harry heard Remus say quietly behind him.

“What?” Harry asked, turning around.

Remus sighed a little and smiled sadly, pointing to the book that Harry had just been looking
at. “It's just… she had wanted that book for awhile, but was always too busy to go get it.
I'd always thought that… oh, but she never finished it,” Remus frowned slightly.

Hermione gasped a little, “That's so sad!”

Harry smiled slightly. If anyone could recognize the sadness of not finishing a book that a
person had wanted to read, it was Hermione. Hesitating slightly, Harry went over and sat on the
bed, picking up the book and cradling it in his hands. “Oedipus Rex,” he said softly, reciting the
title.

Hermione's eyes opened a bit wider, “I've read that.”

“Like that's a surprise,” Ron said softly.

Hermione blushed a little and spoke again, “It's a Greek tragedy.” Hermione's brow
furrowed, and Harry could tell that she was thinking, but he chose not to question her, since he
was not sure that he could take in much more information.

After a moment Tonks spoke, “So where's Harry's room?”

“Across the hall. Do you want to go look at it?” Remus asked and Harry nodded. They made it
halfway across the small hall when Remus stopped.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

Remus tilted his head, “I don't remember that being there.” He pointed to a little hall that
extended around the other side of the stairs for only a meter or two before ending with a dead end
and a door on the right.

“When was the last time you were here?” Hermione asked.

“A couple weeks before it happened. All that used to be up here was their room and Harry's
room and a linen closet.” Remus replied. “I thought that the house had looked a little different
when we were outside, but it's been so long…I wasn't sure.”

Hermione seemed to be putting together a puzzle in her head. Harry sighed a little, “Well, I
suppose we should go see what's there.”

He stepped forward slowly, pushing the door open, but staying outside of the room. He was
greeted with a lot of pink.

Harry and the others stepped into the room. It was completely bare with a white carpet and pink
walls, and a picture handing in a frame on the opposite wall, between two windows.

Harry tread closer to get a better look at the picture. In it he saw what was clearly a happy
scene. James was smiling like mad, running around the room, picking up a very young Harry, tossing
him in the air (causing Lily to tell him to be careful, though she was smiling widely as well) and
the placing him down, running to Lily and lifting her up as if she was light as a feather, and
kissing her stomach. Meanwhile, little Harry was running around the room, yelling, “Sistah!
Sistah!” Then Lily would smile and put a finger to her lips, and Harry would do the same,
whispering the word “Secwet! Shhh!”

Suddenly Harry had difficulty breathing, getting a strong feeling of the walls closing in around
him as he barely registered the sound of everyone's collective gasp. He tried to inhale, but
there no longer seemed to be any oxygen in the room. He felt his knees buckle as he fell to the
floor, Hermione catching him under his arms a couple inches above the floor and lowering him
slowly.

Harry could only stare at his shaking hands as he heard Hermione yell at Ron to go get some
water from the kitchen. Tonks and Remus went as well, Remus in an evident state of shock. Harry
wanted to thank Hermione, but he could not. He could not speak. He could not think. If he did, he
would think about…no, he could not. He would not.

Hermione had folded his legs into a pretzel shape, and now she sat in front of him, searching
his face, her hands solid on his shoulder. She looked down, “Oh, God, you're shaking.” She took
his hands into her, their warmth immediately calming him just slightly.

Ron came in with the water and handed it to Hermione, “Here, Harry, drink this.” She tilted the
cup to his dry lips and he did as she said, sipping it slowly as Ron stood awkwardly in the corner.
Harry paused for a moment, choking on the water a bit and Hermione pulled it away.

“Breathe, Harry,” she said softly, unlike the ordering tone that she had used with Ron. Harry
began to fill his lungs with air, and then let it out. He repeated this a few more times, feeling
his heartbeat, which had been practically buzzing, beginning to slow.

“I'm going to go check on Remus and Tonks. He didn't look so well,” Ron said, turning
and leaving through the door.

Hermione continued, swapping between giving Harry water and telling him to breathe. After the
glass was empty, she set it on the floor and remained silent for several long moments as Harry let
a million thoughts run through his head.

“Are you any better now?”

Harry nodded, though he said, “Not really.”

Hermione tilted her head with understanding, “Do you want to go? We can come back again when
you're ready.”

“Okay,” Harry replied. Hermione stood and held out her hand, helping Harry to his feet. When he
was standing, she embraced him, her cheek pressed against his chest as she squeezed him
tightly.

“I'm sorry,” was all that she said before letting him go and leading him downstairs, where
they then Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

“I'll go ask Dobby to get dinner ready,” Ron said, heading to the kitchen.

Harry looked at his watch. It was already 5 o'clock. He turned to Remus, who still seemed a
bit pale, “Are you two heading back now?”

Remus shared a glance with Tonks, “I think you might want some time to yourself to sort
everything out. McGonagall owled me last night about something going on Monday, so I expect
I'll see you then.”

Harry nodded, “Okay.”

“Bye,” Remus replied weakly, before he and Tonks Disapparated.

Harry and Hermione stood quietly in the hall before Harry spoke, “I think I'm going to go up
to my room.”

Hermione nodded, not questioning his actions, “Are you going to come down for dinner or do you
want me to bring it up for you?”

Harry shrugged, “You can have Dobby bring it up. You can stay down if you want.”

He did not stay and wait for her reply, but simply went up the stairs silently to his room. When
he reached it, he sat heavily on his bed.

He had started the day thinking that he would have all of his questions answered, but somehow he
had come home with more than ever before. Of his many questions, one was blinking rapidly in his
brain, very prominent in his thoughts.

*He would have had a sister if…?*

Harry kept remembering the picture. His young family had been rejoicing, all of them so happy.
In fact, the whole house had reeked of happiness. How could he have had such a happy part of his
life and not remember it? How could someone take it away so abruptly?

Harry's anger towards Voldemort grew with each thought. Before, he had only been missing
parents. But a *sister…*

In the Wizarding World, Harry had formed his own family. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sometimes acted as
surrogate parents, accepting him as one of her own, and Remus and Sirius, when he had been alive,
acted as uncles. Professor Dumbledore had been a grandfather of sorts, and Ron was as much of a
brother as he could be.

But, he had never really had a *sister*.

The only two girls that Harry really knew well enough to qualify were Ginny and Hermione. Harry
couldn't really call Ginny his sister, as she had spent several years having an infatuation
with him, and then dating him. And Harry had never thought of Hermione as a sister. She was a best
friend. More then a best friend, really, but never a sister.

Harry would have been a big brother. He no longer was simply missing parents. He was missing
this whole, practically perfect family, with a mother, a father, and a *sister*…

There was a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” Harry responded, and Hermione entered the room,
carrying a tray with two plates of food and two drinks on it.

“Are you hungry?” Hermione asked quietly.

Harry shrugged, “Not really.”

Hermione frowned slightly, her eyes sad, “I didn't think so. I'll set this here in case
you get hungry later.”

Harry looked at the tray with her plate of food on it as well, “Did you want to eat in
here?”

Hermione looked up, having set the tray on the table, “Oh, I don't really mind either way.
If you want some time alone, I can go…”

“No, stay,” Harry answered. “I'm starting to get a headache. It would probably be good to
have some company.”

Hermione nodded and brought her plate over, a sandwich and salad on it. She gently placed it on
the bed before sitting down next to Harry, facing him.

They sat quietly for a few moments, neither of them having anything to say. Hermione nibbled on
her food as Harry let his mind go blank, listening to the sounds of her chewing.

Hermione finished her sandwich and set the plate back on the table, ignoring the salad. She
climbed back up onto the bed, laying down and yawning. “I'm tired.”

Harry nodded, yawning as well, and looked down at her, “Today went by fast.”

Hermione looked at her watch, “It's only eight o'clock.”

“Oh.”

“I'm still tired,” Hermione added.

Harry shrugged; glad to have something to talk about besides the day's events, though he
knew it was killing Hermione not to say anything. “So go to bed.”

“I'm in bed,” Hermione replied with just a hint of a smile.

“You aren't going to change into nightclothes?” Harry asked.

“Oh, right,” Hermione said, sitting up. “I'll be back in a few minutes.” She left the room
and Harry went and changed into his pajamas. He had just turned out the lights and climbed back
into bed when Hermione came back, lying down beside him, facing him.

“Don't forget we have plans to go mattress shopping tomorrow,” Harry told her.

Hermione nodded firmly, “Of course. We cannot make a habit out of this. As soon as a get a new
mattress I can…” she trailed off as she yawned again.

Harry yawned in response, closing his eyes, “You have got to stop doing that.”

Hermione sighed softly, “Okay.” Soon her breathing slowed to a gentle tempo, signaling her
unconsciousness. Unfortunately, sleep was not coming to Harry quite as easily. He grabbed his robe
from beside the bed and half of his sandwich from the table, and then headed out of the room,
closing the door quietly behind him.

Harry entered the kitchen, and found Ron just as he had hoped he would. “Hey, Ron,” he said,
sitting down across from his friend, and taking a bite out of his sandwich, suddenly hungry.

Ron looked up, “Hey mate.”

There was a pause for a few moments before Ron spoke again, “I don't know how you do it,
Harry.”

“Do what?” Harry asked, though he was sure he knew what Ron was referring to.

Ron sighed, rolling his eyes, “Blood hell, I don't know. How do you get up in the morning
for starters?”

Harry smiled, chewing his food, “Well, I don't think Hermione would ever let me stay in bed
all day.”

Ron smiled, but his expression became serious again, “I wish I could understand.”

“No you don't,” Harry answered, pouring himself some pumpkin juice and taking a swig.

“I have no idea what must be going on inside your head,” Ron replied.

Harry thought for a moment, his mind wandering, “Why didn't you stay?”

Ron blinked, “What?”

“In the room. After you brought up the water. You went back downstairs.”

Ron shrugged, as if it was not a big deal, though Harry could see that he was clearly
uncomfortable, “Hermione seemed to be handling things fine, and Remus was doing to well
downstairs.”

Harry felt a bit selfish, realizing that he had not considered how this may have affect his
parents' friend, but still persisted, “Why didn't you stay, Ron?”

Ron looked down at the table and mumbled something, but Harry could not hear him. “Pardon?”

“You scared me,” Ron said more clearly, though still looking down. When Harry did not respond,
Ron looked up and went on, “I mean, I'm your best mate, right?” Harry nodded; that was obvious.
“Well, I don't know what it was exactly, but seeing you like that. Hermione had to tell you to
breathe, Harry! I just felt cold, like something was not right. I've known you since you were
eleven, so seeing you in a less than perfect state shouldn't shock me but it did. And before
then, when you *cried*…”

Harry simply stared at Ron, not knowing what to say. Ron continued, “I'm not one of those
blokes who thinks that a guy can't cry, it's just that… you were so broken. I'd never
felt like you seemed to in my life, and I didn't know how to react. I didn't mean to make
things worse.”

“You didn't,” Harry said. “I'm sorry I did that.”

Ron shook his head, “I don't blame you.”

Just then, the door opened and Hermione came in, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She gave Harry an
odd look, but refrained from mentioning that she had noticed his absence in the bed in front of
Ron. “What are you two doing?” she asked, sitting down next to Ron.

“Just talking,” Harry replied. “So, I think we should go back there on Sunday,” he added, not
thinking about it.

“Really?” Ron asked.

“That soon?” Hermione added.

Harry nodded. “There's got to be some clues there, which is the actual reason we went today,
it just, well, didn't work out. Besides, I know you're itching to thoroughly inspect my
mum's library,” he added to Hermione.

“Does this mean you're okay now?” Ron asked, not quite believing it.

Harry shook his head. “No, I'm not okay, but we need to go back there. Tomorrow I was going
to go with Hermione to get a new mattress, and you will probably come, of course, and I was
thinking of going to see Remus. Monday we will probably be starting our training, so I think Sunday
is our best option.” Harry had not really thought it through much until then, but what he said made
sense.

Hermione nodded, “There were definitely some things that I noticed, and I'm sure you'd
like to see your room. We never really got to it today.”

Harry nodded. The three of them moved on to talk about other things, such as training, the
Triptych, and Horcruxes. Eventually they moved into the living room, laying about on the floor, and
had Dobby make some hot cocoa. As the hours went by, they slowly grew more tired, and rather than
heading up to bed, simply fell asleep there on the floor.

~*~

A/N: This may run a bit long, but please read it:

First, I want to thank everyone who gave me good ratings in the Felix Felices Competition, as
well as all of you who continue to leave me great reviews. It is very much appreciated.

In addition, there are odd things in this chapter that some of you may notice (especially the
more observant readers). I promise, they are not inconsistencies (my betas help me fix those if
they exist). Like I said, I was careful in writing this, and almost everything has a purpose, so do
not worry. I am not stupid, I promise. :)

If you would like to see the layout of Godric's Hollow, you can go to these URLs:
First Floor/Yard>>> http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y206/vickles/godrics%20hollow/ghollow1.jpg

Second Floor>>> http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y206/vickles/godrics%20hollow/ghollow2.jpg

As always, a big thanks to my betas LadyStarlight and Dedi! They are so awesome, honestly.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and please review!

-->



7. Friends
----------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Author's Note: See bottom.

~*~*~

(Ch. 6 ending, for those who have forgotten…)

*Harry nodded. The three of them moved on to talk about other things, such as training, the
Triptych, and Horcruxes. Eventually they moved into the living room, laying about on the floor, and
had Dobby make some hot cocoa. As the hours went by, they slowly grew more tired, and rather than
heading up to bed, simply fell asleep there on the floor.*

~*~*~

Chapter 7: Friends

~*~*~

*“**Hermione, WAKE UP!**”* *Harry shouted to his friend. Ron was already awake
and panicking. The house was under attack. The Order had shown up and was battling with the
numerous hooded figures. Hermione somehow managed to stay asleep through all of it.*

*One of the hooded figures approached them, and Ron and Harry raised their wands defensively.
The hooded figure simply stood, no more than half a meter from them, and pulled down his hood,
revealing the sickly smile of Draco Malfoy.*

*“**You**'**re rather dense, aren**'**t you Potter? She
won**'**t wake.**”* *He laughed mockingly at Hermione**'**s
motionless form.*

*Harry couldn**'**t breathe,* *“**What do you mean,
Malfoy?**”*

*Draco laughed again,* *“**She**'**s DEAD, you daft git! They all
are!**”*

*Harry looked around the room, where so many of the Order members lay motionless on the floor.
There was Moody, Kingsley, and Tonks, and, oh God, Remus, and McGonagall.*

*Harry looked back down at Hermione and let out a cry of frustration. He felt a pain that he
had never felt before as it ripped through his body, shredding his soul. He felt Ron move closer,
and thanked the heavens that at least someone had been spared. Ron patted him on the back and
smiled with strength, though it did not reach his eyes, ignoring his own fallen tears over the
countless deaths,* *“**I**'**m still here, mate.**”*

*“**Oh, that**'**s right,**”* *Malfoy said, the rest of the
hooded figures now gone.* *“**I forgot one.**”* *He raised his wand at Ron,*
*“**Avada Kedavra!**”* *Ron never stood a chance.*

*Harry gently laid Hermione back on the floor, cradling her head, before letting her go and
rushing Malfoy, grabbing his collar and lifting him off the ground with new unfound
strength.*

*Draco only grinned,* *“**Going to use an Unforgivable, Potter?**”* *he
scoffed.* *“**You don**'**t have the strength.**”*

*Harry smiled, a sick smile that he had never known was in him.* *“**Who said
anything about spells?**”*

*Harry began to strangle Malfoy, and watched with pleasure as the color drained from his face.
Suddenly Ron was alive again, and shouting at Harry.*

*“**Harry, STOP!**”* *He tried to pull Harry off Malfoy.*

*“**Why should I?**”* *Harry asked, his eyes still on Malfoy.*

*“**Harry, WAKE UP! You**'**re hurting Hermione!!!**”*

Harry let go in an instant and his eyes blinked open, only to see Hermione crumpled on the floor
below him, whimpering as she clutched her throat. “Oh God, Hermione!” Harry fell to the floor in
front of her and wrapped his arms around her quivering body. She shook with quiet sobs against his
chest as Ron sat next to them.

Harry tried to comfort her, running his fingers through her hair, “I'm so sorry,
Hermione…I'm so sorry…” Harry kept repeating himself, keeping his arms wrapped around her.
Eventually Hermione calmed down, hiccupping occasionally, and wrapped her arms around him as well,
her head leaning on his shoulder.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said next to them. “What happened?”

Hermione looked up at him and Harry felt a pain in his chest upon seeing a little bit of
bruising in her neck. How could he have done that? “I…I thought you were Malfoy. He killed both of
you, and I was so angry. I have never been that angry before. I hated him so much, and just wanted
to see him dead.”

Hermione's eyes opened wide. “Harry, that's not like you,” she said quietly.

Harry let her go and scooted back a little, pulling his knees to his chest, “I know it's
not. It is just… I could not control it. I was completely unhinged.”

Just then Dobby popped in. “Breakfast is ready, Sirs and Miss. You may eat whenever you are
ready.” Hermione thanked him and he popped out, his normally happy expression not on his face.

“I'm going to go change and take a shower,” Ron said, standing. “I'll meet you guys for
breakfast in a bit.”

Harry and Hermione sat in silence for a few moments. Harry turned to Hermione and gently touched
her neck where it was beginning to change color. Hermione flinched and Harry wanted to curse
himself.

Harry looked down at his hands, “I'm so sorry. I would never…if I had known that…”

Hermione gently reached out her hand and laid it on his own, holding it. “I know.”

Harry looked up at her, “Even if I was angry at you I would never hurt you. You know that,
right?”

Hermione nodded. Harry looked at her normally beautiful skin, now damaged, and frowned. “It
still hurts, doesn't it?”

Hermione tilted his head up with her other hand, looking him in the eyes, “I'm okay,
Harry.”

Harry nodded. “Maybe you should see if Dobby could do something about the bruising.”

“Okay. I'll go find him.” Hermione stood and Harry did as well. She gave him one last look
before turning to leave, “Don't beat yourself up over this, Harry. It was an accident.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied as she walked off. It did not matter though. Even if she did not blame
him, he could not help but blame himself. He went upstairs, dressed, and showered before coming
back down to the kitchen, where Hermione and Ron were already eating and discussing the day's
plans.

“Okay, so we can go get Hermione's new mattress after breakfast, and then stop back and get
some lunch or eat out. Then, you can go see Remus if you want to and I'll help Hermione set up
the new mattress on her bed and get rid of the old one,” Ron said as Harry sat down and began
eating a pancake.

Harry nodded. “I just sent Remus an owl, so hopefully he'll have sent a reply by the time we
get back.” He turned to Hermione, whose neck seemed to have been healed. “You got Dobby to heal
it?”

“Yes.” She paused for a moment before speaking again, “I think the three of us should definitely
talk about it later, if you do not mind. There's something a bit off about this whole thing,”
Hermione answered, slightly avoiding Harry's gaze.

“No kidding,” Ron replied, finishing off his second waffle.

“Yeah, I think you're right,” Harry responded. “We can talk later if that's what you
want. I…I don't want something like that to happen again.” Hermione nodded, just glancing at
him. They finished their breakfast and cleaned up their dishes.

“So where are we going to get this mattress?” Ron asked, thankfully changing the subject.

“Actually, I looked it up and found a place in Muggle London, and thought we could go there. It
is owned by a wizard and sells to wizards and muggles, so I won't need to exchange my money. We
still can't Apparate, though, so I figured we could take the Knight Bus,” Hermione answered and
Ron winced.

“If we won't be Apparating everywhere we should definitely find another way to get places
besides the Knight Bus.” Ron sent them each a pointed look.

Harry held up his hands with innocence, “Okay, fine. When we get a chance we can look into
it.”

Ron nodded, pleased. “Good. Well then, let's get this over with.” They grabbed their things
and headed outside. Harry held out his wand and soon enough the big purple bus came from around the
corner, screeching to a halt on front of them.

“'Ey, Ernie! It's Harry and his friends, again! So where are ye goin' dis time,
folks?” Stan asked, ushering them in. Hermione pulled a slip of paper out of her purse, Harry
guessed it had the address on it, and handed it to Ernie, who nodded.

Hermione walked over where Harry and Ron were sitting and motioned with her hands, smiling
sweetly. Ron sighed and scooted over so she could sit between them. “If you weren't a girl,
Hermione, I swear…” Ron began muttering under his breath.

Hermione simply smiled again, grabbing each of their arms tightly. “Hold on,” she told them and
Harry grabbed the pole to his right and Ron did the same on his left. After a moment, the bus took
off, this time providing a much less eventful ride, Ron mumbling the whole time. They reached the
store quickly and got off, thanking Stan.

They entered the building and were greeted with various mattresses of many sizes and colors.
Hermione looked around and nodded to herself, “Yes, this will do. Come on, let's start
looking.”

After following Hermione around for over an hour and listening to many various reasons why each
mattress wasn't quite right, Ron yawned loudly, “You know, being in a room full of beds that I
can not sleep on is making me tired. I am going to go home and take a kip. Maybe I can Apparate out
of a back room or something. I'll see you two when you get back.” They bid each other good-bye,
Ron whispering to Harry that if he wanted he could help Harry escape as well, but Harry turned it
down, figuring that it would be rather rude to leave Hermione alone. He also was still holding onto
some guilt from the morning's events, and was feeling a bit protective of Hermione.

The shopping went on for another one or two hours (at some point Harry just stopped looking at
his watch). Hermione insisted on laying on each mattress for at least five minutes, before coming
up with yet another flaw for each and every one. Harry found it hard to believe that she had not
run out of new things to say yet. Just went Harry had begun considering how much time he could make
pass by attempting to hit his forehead into the nearby wall, Hermione called out to him, with a
happier tone this time.

“Harry! Come here!” Harry yawned and walked over to the bed that she was laying down. “Lay down
for a second.”

“Why?” Harry asked, confused. “You're the one who's going to be sleeping on it.”

“I want your opinion, so lay down, please.” Hermione repeated.

Figuring that questioning it would take even longer, and his stomach was beginning to rumble,
Harry laid down. He was immediately greeted with a very nice feeling. Hermione turned on her side
and leaned over, “Comfortable, isn't it?” She asked happily, though there also appeared to be
some kind of other emotion in her eyes.

Harry nodded. “Does this mean you're buying it?” He could not hide the impatience in his
voice.

Hermione frowned, “Why didn't you tell me that you were bored? I could have sped up the
process a bit.”

He sat up and looked at her in disbelief, “You could not tell?”

Hermione leaned back; pulling her legs under her and sitting on her knees. “Well, maybe a
little. I just assumed that you were tired from not having slept well.” They paused awkwardly,
remembering what had taken place earlier.

“I'll go get a store clerk, hold on,” Harry said, getting up and finding the nearest
employee, telling them that they were ready.

“So I see that she finally made a decision.” A small plump woman smiled warmly as she came over
to Hermione and stood by the bed.

Hermione looked slightly offended and her lip pouted slightly. “I didn't want to get
something I didn't like.”

The woman smiled again. “It's quite alright, dear. I have just been watching you out of the
corner of my eye since you came in. I could not believe that this one stayed after the other one
left.” She pointed at Harry. “Rather nice of a man, if you ask me. Makes you wonder if there's
*ulterior motives*.” She said to Hermione, who gasped.

The store clerk chuckled after a moment. “I'm only joking. May I ask what bank you use?” she
asked, returning to business.

“Gringotts,” Harry and Hermione replied and the woman nodded with understanding. Then she looked
at Harry closely, and then turning to Hermione, gasping as Hermione had before, only for a
different reason.

“I *knew* you looked familiar!” She said before composing herself and going back to work
(Harry noticed that she got distracted rather easily), “Follow me to the back so you can purchase
your mattress Mr. Potter and Miss Granger.”

Hermione blushed and she and Harry followed the woman into a back office, taking two seats on
one side of the desk.

“Now,” she pulled a few forms along with a quill out, “What size will you be needing?”

“Queen,” Hermione answered. The witch nodded and scribbled on one of the pieces of
parchment.

“Do you want it delivered?” She asked and Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance.

Hermione shook her head, “I'll just shrink it and take it home myself.”

“Okay, then!” She looked through a few more papers, mumbling to herself before looking back up
and smiling. “Your total will be three hundred and five galleons.”

Both teenagers nodded and reached for their money bags. “What are you doing?” Hermione asked
Harry.

Harry looked up in confusion, “Er…getting out money to pay for your mattress?”

Hermione tilted her head and spoke slowly as if Harry was a small child, “But I am paying for
it.”

“Why would you do that?” Harry asked.

“Because it is my mattress.” Hermione answered. Her tone was beginning to annoy Harry.

Harry sat his bag down. “I'm not letting you pay for this. It's going in my house so it
makes sense for me to pay for it.”

Hermione sat bag down as well, sighing. Harry noted that the store clerk had scooted, carefully
avoiding looking at either of them. “I am paying for it, Harry. I live there, too, and it's
going in my room.”

They argued for a few more minutes, eventually coming to a compromise. Hermione would pay for
the mattress and Harry would pay for lunch. Harry thought this was rather unfair, but Hermione
insisted that she would pick some place expensive so that it would balance out.

Hermione shrunk and pocketed the mattress and they walked to Diagon Alley, which was nearby.
Harry asked Hermione where they we planning on eating, but she only led him around the alley, past
the familiar stores and just beyond Gringotts.

“I didn't know that Diagon Alley went back this far.” Harry commented.

Hermione nodded, taking his hands and leading him on. “Most people don't come back this far
because they simply come to Gringotts to do their business and be done with it. Here we are.” She
stopped in front of a small restaurant before pulling Harry inside.

It turned out to be an Italian restaurant, and Hermione was not lying when she said it was
expensive. Harry had never had Italian food, so Hermione ordered everything, speaking fluent
Italian to the waiter. Harry questioned where she learned it and she explained that she had taught
herself a bit of Italian a few years ago. They ordered take-out for Ron and Apparated back to
Grimmauld Place.

They found Ron flopped on the couch, sleeping with a line of unattractive drool running from his
mouth. Hermione cleared her throat and Ron immediately woke up, taking the bag of food from her
hands and stuffing half of a breadstick in his mouth before even saying hello.

“Lovely, Ron,” Hermione said, standing next to Harry, “Just lovely.”

Ron swallowed with great effort and smiled. “You know you think it's endearing.”

“Sure,” Hermione replied with a look of disgust on her face. “Did Remus' reply for Harry
come yet?”

Ron nodded and replied with a mouth full of food. “If om du tabbow,” he said, pointing to the
table.

Harry laughed and took the letter, “I just realized that I speak fluent Ron.” Hermione giggled
in response and Ron smiled with pride.

Harry opened the envelope and found a letter and a pin inside. He was about to take the pin out
when Hermione stopped him. Harry looked at her questioningly.

“Read the letter first,” she said, “It might be a Portkey.”

Harry nodded and read the letter.

*Dear Harry,*

*I will be free for the rest of the day. Just pop in whenever you get a chance.*

*Remus*

*P.S. The pin enclosed it is a Portkey.*

Ron stared at Hermione for a second before sighing and shaking his head, “It doesn't even
surprise me anymore. How *sad*.” He dug into his spaghetti.

“I think I'm just going to go right now,” Harry said. They nodded and he took the Portkey
inside. No sooner had he touched it than he felt this sickening feeling that always came with this
way of travel.

Harry landed in the middle of a living room of what appeared to be a rather spacious flat. Remus
and Tonks were sitting on the couch, reading the paper. Tonks saw Harry first and got up, speaking
to Remus, “I'm going to go work on that report that I have to finish.” She gave him a kiss on
the cheek, waved to Harry, and left the room.

Remus scooted over on the couch, and Harry sat at the opposite end, turning and facing Remus.
“Hi,” Harry said, unsure what to say now that he was here.

Remus, however, dived right in, “I assume that you want to talk about what happened
yesterday.”

Harry nodded. “Did you have any idea? You know, that she was…”

Remus shook his head. “No.”

“Why wouldn't they have told you? Or Sirius?” Harry wondered if his godfather had possibly
known and not told him.

Remus shrugged just barely, “I'm pretty sure Sirius didn't know. He was horrible at
keeping secrets like those. Something like that… in such dark times… he would not have been able to
hold it in.”

“But why…” Harry began to ask again.

“I don't know. You have to understand something Harry. Towards the end there, such as the
last week or so, things were getting dark. We all knew that James, Lily, and you were in trouble,
but we were powerless to stop it. They took every precaution they could, and that meant minimal
outside contact. Part of me isn't surprised that they kept the news to themselves.” Remus
sighed.

Harry bit his lip, pondering this. “What was it like?” he asked after a time. “I mean, before
things got bad. What were they like?” *What was my life like*, Harry longed to ask.

Remus smiled, his eyes twinkling a bit and reminding Harry of Dumbledore. “Couldn't you tell
from seeing the house?”

“Kind of. I just… I suppose I want to hear about it from someone how was there. Tell me about
us, how we were.” Harry answered.

“Oh, well, let me think…” Remus twiddled his thumbs for a moment. “To most people, your family
was the portrait of perfection. Those of us close to you know that you were not perfect, but I
think the three of you got pretty damn close.

“Whenever Lily had to go out and James was at work Sirius and I would baby sit you. Man, you
were a handful.” They both laughed a little before Remus spoke again, “But we loved it. Lily often
joked that we were so good that she was going to trade James in for one of us. Of course, no one
ever believed her for a second. It was James that she loved.” Harry noticed a bit of sadness in
Remus' voice.

“Your favorite pastime, outside of Quidditch, which James continued to teach you when Lily
wasn't looking even after you hurt yourself falling off a toy broom, was hiding things. You
always hid things. Usually it was valuable. One time your mother took off her wedding and
engagement rings to wash dishes, she liked to do it the Muggle way, and you hid them in a pair of
Sirius' shoes. Everyone kept asking you where you put the rings and all you would do is
giggle.”

Harry laughed and Remus continued, “By the time James got home Lily was in hysterics. I remember
he took you into the living room and sat you on the couch. He explained to you that it was bad to
hide things because it `made Mommy feel bad.' After he was done talking, you went and got the
rings and gave them back to Lily, apologizing. Sirius teased James for weeks about his `fatherly
behavior' but I know it is only because he was jealous. Sirius always wanted kids.”

“Couldn't she have simply Accio'd them?” Harry asked.

“She tried,” Remus replied, “but it never worked. I suppose that we should have figured it out
then that you were no ordinary child.”

Harry waited a moment before asking a question, “How did they react when… towards the end when
things got dangerous?”

“Well, it was more gradual, so there was nothing to really react to. In addition, Lily was the
head of that part of the Order at the time. Anything that the Order of the Phoenix knew about
Voldemort and his plans, Lily knew that and more. She kept Dumbledore updated, but a lot of us
suspect that there were things that she did not even tell him. There's no way of knowing just
how much she knew, really.”

“Did she tell my father?” Harry asked.

Remus shook his head. “No. They fought constantly over it. Lily thought it made sense to keep
the burden of her knowledge to herself, while James felt that if she did so he wasn't
succeeding at his job of protecting his family.”

“Do you think that maybe…” Harry stopped himself; unsure about whether he wanted to
continue.

“What?” questioned Remus, urging him on.

Harry sighed, “Do you think that maybe there was something that my mom knew, and that is why
they never told anyone about… about the baby?”

“What are you asking?” Remus inquired, apparently confused.

Harry shook his head, ridding himself of the thought. He began to feel the need to end this
conversation. “Nothing. I think I am going to go. Ron and Hermione will be wondering where I
am.”

Remus nodded. “Okay. I'll see you Monday.” Harry waved and popped back on home.

He had just landed in the foyer when a shriek came from upstairs, sounding like Hermione. Harry
immediately dashed up the stairs, hearing the sound again a moment later, clearly coming from
Hermione's room. Harry ran as fast as he could the rest of the way, imagining all sort of
horrible things happening to his friend. He arrived at the door panting, only to find that Hermione
was not in any sort of peril at all.

Hermione and Ron were standing frozen on the bed, holding pillows in their hands and breathing
heavily, glistening with sweat. Harry looked at the scene in front of them for a few moments,
trying to make sense of the smiles on their faces. “What on Earth are you two doing?” he asked
incredulously.

“It's a pillow fight, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed excitedly. “Get up here!”

“A pillow fight?” Harry tilted his head in confusion.

Ron nodded. “It's really simple. All you do is hit the other person with a pillow as many
times as you can until they surrender.” Ron promptly hit Hermione in the back with a pillow he was
holding, causing her to shriek again before hitting him back.

Hermione reached down and tossed Harry a pillow. “Come on!” Immediately his two friends went
back to their fight, leaving Harry to watch for a moment before joining in. He jumped on the bed,
taking his pillow and hitting Ron, knocking his friend over and causing Hermione to laugh so hard
that she collapsed onto the bed in a fit of giggles.

“That was easy,” Harry commented with a grin, “So do you surrender now?”

Ron mumbled something under his breath and stood back up, “No, you just caught me off guard,
that's all.”

Harry nodded and Hermione, still lying on the bed, snorted. She gasped and covered her mouth,
looked up at the two of them with wide open eyes before bursting into another fit of laughter.

Harry stared at Hermione in disbelief as Ron merely shook his head and clucked his tongue, “To
think that I wanted *her* for a soulmate. I must be about as mental as she is.”

Harry was not really paying attention to Ron, however. A smile played at his lips as he watched
Hermione attempt to compose herself, only to begin laughing even harder. He crouched down and
grinned at her. “Are you alright, Hermione?”

Hermione smiled at Harry, keeping her mouth firmly shut so that she would laugh, causing her
face to turn rather red. After a moment she spoke, “What? Oh yes, I'm quite alright.” She
looked at something over Harry shoulder and smiled. “Harry, do I have anything in my hair?”

Harry looked at Hermione bouncy curls. “I don't see anything.”

“Are you sure? Look closer.” Harry was about to do just that when Ron hit him with two pillows
at once, toppling him over on Hermione. The two of them sprang up at once, the three of them
beating each other simultaneously for several minutes. After awhile, they all collapsed on to the
bed at various angles, exhausted.

Harry sighed happily, “So that's what a pillow fight is.”

Ron and Hermione chuckled weakly, as if they lacked the proper energy. “We should definitely do
this more often,” Ron commented.

Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement. In the back of Harry's mind, he knew that soon they
would have to get up and discuss the previous day's events as well as what had taken place that
morning, but for the time being her was perfectly content to just lay there, quietly enjoying their
presence.

~*~*~

A/N: This is rather lengthy (sorry), but I didn't want to make a separate chapter simply for
an author's note. Feel free to skim, but please don't skip:

*As always, thank you to my wonderful betas, who are largely responsible for this story not
being a wad of crap. You both rock, seriously. I have no idea what I would do without you.

*I also want to say thank you to everyone who gave me good ratings in the Felix Felices
Competition, even though I didn't win (I wasn't expecting to). Congrats to the three
talented writers who did win.

*For anyone unhappy with this chapter, my apoligies. It's actually about half of what I
intended when I outlined it. Life got in the way this week, and I wanted to give all of you
something because you are so great. (Especially when you leave reviews *nudge nudge wink wink*)

*There was a semi-major error in Chapter 6 (it is now corrected, but a little too late). The
tombstone read the names “James Evans” and “Lily Evans.” That was not intentional. It was supposed
to read “James Potter” and “Lily Evans-Potter,” which it does now. I am sincerely sorry for any of
you that were confused.

*As always, I stuck in some little things (not nearly as many as Chapter 6) for some of you more
intent and careful readers. (Some of you really surprise me with your great and insightful reviews,
and I try to reply when I can)

*Lastly, I know this is off topic, but I just want to extend my sympathies/prayers towards
anyone who has been affected by Hurricane Katrina (I know that at least some of you are from the
US).

*And, of course, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! ~Vickles

-->



8. Repercussions
----------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: If I owned this stuff HBP would have been a totally different story.

Author's Note: Since I've made you all wait so long the author's note will be at the
bottom. Happy reading!

~*~

Chapter 8: Repercussions

~*~

After many comfortable minutes of silence, Hermione was the one who finally broke the ice, her
voice betraying some residual mirth, “You know, we should probably do what Ron and I came up here
to do.”

“What's that?” Harry asked, not thinking.

“We were going to set up her new mattress,” Ron said, sitting up and getting off the bed,
reaching out his hands to help them as well. They each took a hand and he pulled them up to a
standing position.

“Oh,” Harry replied, “Well then I suppose that we should get this out of the way, then.” Harry
bent down and grabbed the mattress, lifting it up with some effort. “What?” he asked, seeing
Hermione and Ron's shocked expressions.

“We…uh…well…er…” Ron stuttered.

Hermione nodded, agreeing with him even though he was not saying anything, “Exactly.”

“Huh?” Harry was thoroughly confused.

Hermione gasped, speaking slowly and quietly, “Okay, um, Harry, just put the mattress
down…that's it. Thank you. Now,” she turned to Ron and then back to Harry, “Both of you come
with me. We need to talk.”

Harry and Ron nodded wordlessly, following her out of the room. Without thinking about it Harry
knew that they were headed to his bedroom. The place had become a source of comfort for all three
of them lately, so it made sense that if they were going to discuss something important, that would
be the location do it in.

They entered his room and Hermione conjured three cushions, setting them together on the floor.
Hermione sat on one cushion, motioning for Harry and Ron to do the same. Once they were settled
Hermione let the silence stay for a moment before speaking hesitantly, “I think the Triptych is
taking effect.”

Ron nodded in agreement but Harry felt a bit behind. “What do you mean? I haven't noticed
anything.”

“No, she's right,” Ron replied, “I noticed it this morning when, well, when you were having
your nightmare.”

Hermione nodded, “We need to talk about that later, but go on. What did you notice?”

Ron paused for a moment, as if he was afraid of being ridiculed, but then seemed to realize who
he was talking to and went on, “Well, you both know how hard it is to wake me up.” Harry nodded,
recalling the morning at the Dursley's when he smacked his friend upside the head. “This
morning neither of you two were making any sound at all, really, except for, well, Hermione, you
were whimpering a bit.”

Harry felt a pain in his chest as vividly remembered seeing Hermione in a crumpled heap on the
floor. Ron waited a moment before continuing.

“But, despite how quiet you were, and how early it was, I woke up, really suddenly, actually. I
was having a nice dream, about playing professional Quidditch, when suddenly I just felt this
overwhelming sense of pain and anger at the same time. I didn't have time to dwell on it
because I spent the next moments waking Harry up, but… it was like I could feel the same things you
two were feeling. Horrible, those two nasty feelings jumbled all together. It was like a chaos
inside of me.” Ron was looking at the floor, replaying the scene in his head. Hermione reached over
and rubbed his arm in a comforting gesture. Ron looked up and smiled in gratitude.

“I am sorry, Ron,” Harry said, feeling as though it was the only thing he could say.

“It's okay,” Ron answered, “It was hardly your fault, mate.”

Harry nodded and moved on, feeling Ron's discomfort, “Is that the only time you noticed
something like that?”

Ron shook his head, “Just now, back in the room, when we were all having fun, it was as if the
happiness I was feeling was magnified somehow. Almost like so much couldn't possibly fit inside
of me.”

Hermione nodded, “Right, and I could tell what you were thinking just then, back in the room,
after Harry lifted the mattress. I think that my mind is more prone to succeed at things such as
Legilimency and Occlumency now, and that for a moment I had a bit of a… surge, I suppose. Could you
tell?” she asked Ron.

“Yeah,” Ron replied, “It was so weird.”

“*All* of this is so weird,” Harry pointed out. “I haven't noticed anything different
about how I've been, though.” He felt slightly left out.

“We've noticed, though,” Hermione said, soothing Harry just slightly. “This morning, when
you… were choking me, you were extraordinarily strong. It only lasted for a few moments until Ron
woke you up, but somehow you managed to bruise me quite badly.”

“Oh,” Harry pulled his knees up to his stomach, feeling the need to cocoon within himself. The
thought of bruising Hermione, let alone badly, made him want to hurl several times.

Hermione frowned sympathetically and moved her cushion closer to him, giving him a hug and then
pulling his hand into both of hers. “I know,” was all she said, but the magnitude of her
understanding him made Harry's heart swell.

Ron waited a moment before speaking, “Then there was also earlier, when you lifted the mattress
all on your own.”

Harry shrugged, “What's the big deal with that?”

“Nothing, except of course that Hermione and I tried to lift it together and failed miserably
yet you accomplished it with a rather small amount of effort in comparison.” Ron and Hermione each
smiled a little, apparently finding the situation a bit humorous upon reflection.

Harry felt his cheeks redden a bit, “Maybe you two are just weak, that's all.” He tried to
recall what else had taken place that day that was out of the ordinary, “Hey,” he said to Hermione,
remembering something, “Earlier in the restaurant, you spoke fluent Italian, but you told me that
you only learned a small amount and that it was a few years ago.”

“Wow,” Hermione responded, clearly impressed with his observation, “You're right.”

They all sat in silence for a few moments. “So what does this all mean?” Ron asked, looking to
Hermione for the answer.

Hermione shrugged, “I knew that changes would take place, but I didn't read about anything
like this when I was researching the Triptych. Perhaps it's simply a temporary imbalance as we
adjust to the necklaces.”

“And if it's not?” Ron pressed.

Harry answered this time, “Then we deal with it. We know it's not dark magic, right?” Ron
and Hermione nodded. “Well then obviously there's a way to control it. I for one cannot wait
until we get started training this week.”

“Definitely,” Hermione agreed, “I wonder who Professor McGonagall is going to have training
us.”

Ron and Harry nodded. They sat in silence for several moments, all of them thinking. After a
time Ron sighed, “Okay, well if we're done here I think I'm going to grab some dinner and
head to bed or something. Do we need to get up early to go to Godric's Hollow tomorrow?”

Harry shook his head, “We can probably go in the afternoon.”

“Okay,” Ron left through the doorway, and Harry stood, going over to sit on his bed. Hermione
rose as well, getting rid of the three cushions before walking over and sitting next to him.

“I'm not really hungry,” she said quietly.

Harry nodded, “So I suppose you want to talk about what happened this morning.”

“Yes,” Hermione replied, “I do. But first, I want to tell you something so you don't think
otherwise.”

Harry waited expectantly and Hermione turned to him, looking him in the eye, “I don't blame
you for what happened this morning. I know it was an accident, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry said, appeasing her, “Now what do you really want to tell me?”

He knew her too well. Harry watched as Hermione drew back, leaning against the foot of the bed.
Her voice shook a little as she spoke, “You really scared me this morning.”

Harry watched as her eyes began to redden and wanted to just give her a hug or do something,
anything, to keep her from being sad, but he knew that she had to get through this and that there
was a reason for putting space between them.

Hermione went on, her lower lip now trembling, “I was just sleeping when you suddenly grabbed me
and pushed me up against the wall. It hurt horribly, and I could tell you were asleep. I was about
to say something, to wake you up, but then your hands closed around my throat. I didn't know
what to do. I was horrified. Not just because it hurt or because I did not know why you were doing
it, but because it was *you.*”

A tear fell down her cheek and Harry watched helplessly as she talked on, as if she desperately
needed to get this off her chest, which she probably did, “It's the worst feeling ever. I trust
you with my life, and this morning, you could have taken it. If Ron had not woken you up, I think
you might have.” Harry could not handle the thought that he could have *killed* Hermione. “You
were so strong, and I could do nothing. Even though you were asleep, your eyes were open, but it
was not you. At least, it was not a form of you that I ever thought existed.”

“When Ron got you to wake up, you blinked a few times and then you were back; I could see it,
and your arms were around me. I cried against you, because I needed you to be my friend again. I
needed you to make that other person, that person who hurt me, disappear.”

Hermione, who had been staring at her hands, looked up at Harry, tears now falling freely down
her cheeks. “I look at you now, and you are Harry, my best friend, who I know would never hurt me.
The thought of you acting the way you did this morning seems impossible. I can see in your eyes how
sorry you are, and I feel safe. I know that you thought I was Malfoy, but the thing that troubles
me is how unlike you it is. You are not a violent person by nature, Harry. You do not normally act
on your anger, or at least not in a violent way. I could see if maybe you thought I was Snape or
something but…”

“Stop,” Harry could not take anymore. Hearing her talk about what he had done had been bad
enough, but to bring up *him*. He got up off the bed and began pacing through the room. “I
can't think about it anymore. Or him. Or that dream. Or what I did to you. I wish I could just
take it back. I hate that you had to go through something so unbelievably horrible. You keep
talking about it and I look at my hands, and can't believe that I was capable of… and I want to
be like Dobby and burn them or something!” Without thinking Harry grabbed a vase off the table and
flung it across the room, immediately shattering into a million tiny pieces upon impact.

Hermione gasped, a hand flying to her mouth as she watched him with open eyes. Harry felt
something inside of him snap as his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor, putting his face in
his hands as he breathed heavily. There was a thumping sound and soon Ron was in the room,
observing the scene in front of him before approaching Harry slowly, placing a hand on his
shoulder. Harry looked up at him and tried to think of something to say, to explain himself.

“You don't have to,” Ron said, saving Harry the trouble, “I know how you feel.” The corners
of his lips lifted just barely. “Trust me.”

Harry fell back into a sitting position, resting his elbows on his knees as his hands raked
through his hair. “I'm not… in control anymore.”

Ron nodded with understanding, “None of us are. None of us ever were, I don't think.”

Harry shook his head, “Something isn't right.”

Hermione took out her wand and put back together the broken vase before coming over slowly, “No,
Harry's right Ron. I haven't seen him act remotely close to this since fifth year.”

“What's wrong with me?” Harry asked Hermione, needing an answer.

Hermione frowned sadly at him, thinking for a moment, “I don't know, Harry. It could be in
relation to the Triptych, but Ron and I really haven't had any negative changes yet.”

“Well,” Ron pondered this for a moment, “Didn't you say that the first few weeks were very
stressful? Harry might just be getting the start of it all.” He sent Harry an apologetic
glance.

“Figures,” Harry muttered and Hermione gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“What were you two talking about?” Ron asked.

Hermione was about to say but Harry shook his head, “Let's discuss it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Ron replied, clearly knowing that Harry was not in the proper state of mind, for which
Harry was eternally grateful.

Hermione waited a moment before speaking carefully, “I don't think we should go back to
Godric's Hollow tomorrow. The emotional strain may be too much for you right now.”

Harry considered arguing before deciding that she was right and only had his best intentions in
mind, “Yeah. That's a good idea.”

“I've got another idea,” Ron said, “How about we go finish putting Hermione's mattress
up? You know, to distract us for a while. I think that maybe we're all thinking a bit too much
right now, which is not a great thing, especially for Hermione, right? If this,” he motioned to
Harry, “Is going to start happening to us to, we don't need to do anything to trigger making it
worse.”

They went and set up the new mattress, shrinking the old one and giving it to Dobby for his bed,
making the small elf very happy. (Harry thought he heard Dobby muttering something like `must give
them nice socks' as he walked off.) After putting some sheets and blankets on the bed Ron bid
them goodnight and went of to catch some sleep. Harry and Hermione stood in the room awkwardly for
a few moments.

“Well, goodnight then.” Harry gave Hermione a light hug.

“Right, goodnight Harry.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and Harry walked off to his
room, changing into his pajamas and getting into bed.

He lay there in the darkness for a long time, his mind blank and sleep very distant. When a
knock sounded at the door he practically sighed in relief, thankful for something to distract him
from his difficulty in achieving slumber. “Come in,” he called.

The door opened and Hermione came in, her face displaying a bit of guilt. She closed the door
and stood still for a few moments before speaking, “I don't have any books in my room, so I was
wondering if maybe I could keep you company for awhile as I read. Did I wake you?”

“No. You can read if you want,” Harry gave the room a little more light and scooted over.
Despite everything that had happened, he still wanted her near him. “Can you get me something to
read, too?” Hermione nodded and grabbed two books off the shelves, sliding under the covers and
handing one to Harry.

Harry looked at the book, reading the back cover. “Is this fiction?” he asked.

Hermione nodded, looking at him quizzically, “Do you not read fictional books?”

“Well, yeah I do, I just didn't think that you did,” Harry replied.

Hermione sighed, “Now you know. Just read it, I think you will like it.”

Harry shrugged. “Okay.” He said the title aloud, “Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. I
can't even pronounce the author's name.”

Hermione smiled at him like a teacher smiles at a young student, “Just read it and ask me if you
want to know how to pronounce something.”

Harry nodded and began reading, frequently taking Hermione up on her offer. After about an hour
or so Hermione closed her book and marked it at the halfway point. “I suppose I should go to bed,”
she said with what Harry thought was a little regret in her voice.

Harry marked his book as well, “Okay, goodnight.”

Hermione left and Harry turned out the lights, sighing and knowing that sleep was not going to
come soon.

Harry woke up the next morning rather early, finally giving up on falling back asleep despite
how tired he was. He came into the kitchen where Dobby was making some fresh coffee.

“Good morning Harry Potter, sir!” Dobby greeted him happily, pouring coffee in to a mug for
Harry. He brought the sugar and cream over as well, setting them in front of Harry with a snap of
his fingers. “Did Harry Potter sleep well?”

Harry yawned and shook his head, “No, Dobby, I didn't, actually.”

Dobby frowned, “Is there something wrong with Harry Potter's room that Dobby can fix?” Harry
shook his head.

“What about Harry Potter's Hermione? Why is she not being in the kitchen, too?”

Harry shrugged, “I don't know. Perhaps she is still asleep.”

Dobby looked very confused, “Does Harry Potter not know?”

“No, I haven't seen her since last night,” Harry replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

Now Dobby was truly confounded, “But didn't Harry Potter sleep with his Hermione?”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “No, Dobby. Hermione slept in her own bed last night.”

Dobby still seemed befuddled but decided to let it go and began cooking some eggs and toast.
Just as he was finishing up, Hermione walked in yawning. The Daily Prophet, still unopened, was in
her hand. She took her own mug of coffee form Dobby and sat next to Harry.

“How'd you sleep?” Harry asked.

Hermione yawned again, “Okay, I suppose. I'm still adjusting to my new mattress.”

“Oh,” Harry turned back to the table as Dobby sent over breakfast.

Hermione unfolded her Daily prophet, setting it out on the table as she took a bite of her eggs,
immediately spitting them out. “No!” she exclaimed quietly.

Harry leaned over, “What?”

Hermione blushed and moved the paper away so Harry could not see it. “Nothing, just the Daily
Prophet writing trash again.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Let me see.”

Hermione shook her head, “It's nothing, really.”

“You're lying, Hermione. Why wont you let me look at it?” Harry asked.

Hermione bit her lip, “You might get upset, and today I wanted you to relax. I don't want
anything provoking you.”

Harry sighed, “Just give it to me, Hermione. It's not like they haven't done this
before.”

**Hermione gave in and handed over the paper. Harry opened it again and read the front page
article:**

**HARRY POTTER OR HARRY WHO-CAN'T-KEEP-HIS-PAWS-OFF-HER?**

*Yesterday, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were spotted* *mattress shopping* *in
London. Miss Granger reportedly spent hours searching for the perfect mattress, before finally
finding it. When she did, she had Harry Potter, known also as `The Chosen One' for his active
role against You-Know-Who, test the mattress as well. When they were going into buy it, the young
couple argued over who should pay for it, mentioning in the line of fire that they were living
together.*

*Three years ago this newspaper reported a relationship between Mister Potter and Miss
Granger, which was irrevocably denied by both parties. It now seems that they are something of an
item, and experiencing what can only be considered `young love at it's peak,' according to
our inside source.*

*So what does this mean for the Wizarding World? Will young Harry be too caught up in his
romance with Hermione Granger to care about You-Know-Who, or will the brilliant young woman give
him strength, and help him in his ultimate battle? This reporter sits on the edge of her seat in
anticipation, but only time will tell.*

*~Anonymous*

Hermione, who finished reading over his shoulder a minute before him, waited patiently for him
to read the entire article. When he was done, Harry stared at the paper for a few moments,
blinking, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

Hermione stared at him in shock as he continued laughing, tears streaming from his eyes, before
eventually laughing as well, if only because he was. After the laughter subsided Harry spoke, still
chuckling, “It's rather pathetic, really. There's a war going on and the story of us going
mattress shopping is front page news?”

Hermione giggled as well, “Honestly. Well, at least they made a reference to Voldemort a couple
times. I suppose that's progress. You notice that the reporter remained anonymous. It must mean
that they are scared of you. Of course, you know, *time will tell*.”

Harry snorted, causing Hermione to snicker at his expense. “So, is our newfound romance going to
help me or hurt the Wizarding World?”

Hermione made a scene out of gasping and placing a hand over her throat, “Oh, well we would
never dream of hurting the Wizarding World! What would they call you then, `The
Oops-We-Should-Not-Have-Chosen-Him One?'”

Harry nodded, “Or `The Boy Who Didn't Let Us Live.'”

The banter went on for a bit as they returned to their breakfasts, Hermione scanning the paper
for anything else out of the ordinary to which they found none. After awhile they went back up to
his room, reading until noon when Ron woke up, then proceeded to enjoy the article all over again
as he read it.

After lunch the three lazed about, playing games and eating sweets. Harry enjoyed an afternoon
nap as Ron and Hermione played a round of chess, and then humored Ron, playing a round as well.
They ate dinner and then separated to their bedrooms. Overall it was a quiet and peaceful day; no
one wanted to trigger anything Triptych-related, silently agreeing to have one last day of real
happiness before the work would begin.

Harry showered and put his nightclothes on, getting in bed and pulling out his book. He'd
read about three pages when Hermione came in, sliding in next to him and reading as well. When she
finished her book, she closed it quietly and placed it back on the shelf. She then bid Harry
goodnight and gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving to her room.

At first, Harry did not even try to fall asleep, simply choosing to continue reading. As his
eyes began to droop, however, he gave in and turned out the lights, only to be greeted with
complete exhaustion and utter sleeplessness. Harry sighed. This was *not* good.

Light flew in through the room as Hermione pulled back the great curtains that Dobby had hung
over Harry's large windows. Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What is it,” he asked.

“Professor McGonagall stopped by,” Hermione said, walking over to Harry's closet and pulling
out some clothes. “She'll be back in twenty minutes with our trainers, so get dressed and eat
breakfast quick. Laying his clothes gently on the foot of the bed, Hermione left the room.

Harry did as she told him, coming downstairs five minutes later and eating the food that had
been set out for him. He was just cleaning up his dished when Hermione called to him, announcing
Professor McGonagall's return.

Harry came upstairs where he was greeted with four wizards and witches, as well as Professor
(Headmistress, he reminded himself) McGonagall. He recognized three of them as Tonks, Remus, and
Mad-Eye Moody. The fourth was a tall woman, only a few centimeters shorter than Ron and the same
height as Harry, with a light complexion and long dark brown hair that fell straight down her back,
unlike Hermione's chestnut curls.

Hermione was speaking to them when he entered, “How about we all go to the living room where we
can sit down?” she asked politely, leading them despite the fact that most of them knew their way
around the house quite fine already. The woman that Harry did not know was looking at the house
with interest, nodding with approval and turning to Professor McGonagall. “I thought you said three
teenagers lived here. This place is quite clean.”

“We have a house elf,” Ron said. “He keeps us company and helps out with things like that.”

“Of course we pay him, though,” Harry added for Hermione, who smiled. “He's free, actually,
but has developed a liking for us, and enjoys being here.”

The woman raised her eyebrows and grinned in return, extending her hand to Harry, “I am Gretta
Runnerstrom. It is nice to meet you.” She shook Ron and Hermione's hands as well.

Professor McGonagall motioned the guests to sit, pulling Hermione aside and talking quietly to
her. Hermione nodded along as the Headmistress spoke and turned to the adults, speaking politely,
“We're going to go discuss something for a moment, but while we're gone Dobby will bring
you some refreshments. Dobby?” she called quietly.

The little house elf popped in right away, happily taking people's orders, as the three
teenagers and Professor McGonagall headed down to the kitchen.

Hermione entered last, closing the door behind them, “So is that everyone that you picked?”

Nodding slightly, Professor McGonagall replied, “I mentioned something to Professor Flitwick,
and he offered to help out here and there with little things. You wouldn't have to tell him
anything, of course.”

“Does that mean we have to tell all of them about the Triptych?” Ron asked as the four of them
sat at the table.

“It would be best, yes. In my opinion they are all trustworthy, but it is ultimately up to
you.”

“How do you know Gretta Runnerstrom?” Hermione asked.

The professor smiled with pride, “Gretta was one of my best students over thirty years ago, and
one of my closest friends today. She exceeds at nearly everything she does and is gifted in
Legilimency and Occlumency as well as the art of Seeing. On top of that she has studied the
Triptych nearly as much as I have.”

“I thought that you believed Divination was foolish,” Harry challenged her.

She nodded, “I do, Mr. Potter, but I know a true Seer when I see one, pardon the pun.”

“So you reckon we can trust her?” Ron asked.

“I would bet my life on it, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall replied.

Hermione stood up. “We should get back up there, then. We have a lot to explain.”

The talk lasted for nearly two hours. Moody questioned practically everything, demanding to look
at the necklaces despite the fact that they were being worn. Tonks was in a continual state of
surprise and shock. The other two, being Remus, and Gretta Runnerstrom, sat quietly, occasionally
checking a few facts and appearing very interested. Together everyone worked out a loose schedule,
keeping the weekends mostly free to give the trio time to rest and do anything else that might be
necessary for their “project,” as Tonks decided to label it. Harry thought that the title made it
seem childish, but agreed that it was accurate and general, which was definitely good.

They all bid each other good-bye, and everyone left, save Tonks who approached the three of
them, grinning like a mad woman, “So, my young adults, are you ready for your first lesson?”

~*~

Author's Note: There are no words to express how sorry I am for the delay with this chapter.
In a nutshell: computers suck. Period. I will not waste your time with a long-winded explanation.
You are all awesome, and if I could, I would give you a chapter a day. Chapter 9 is already in the
works and should be up much sooner. I also want to thank LadyStarlight for getting this back to me
quickly despite her own busy schedule. Please review!!!

-->



9. Training and Tragedies
-------------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: JKR rocks, HBP sucks, and I therefore claim no ownership. This is just my plot.

~*~*~

Chapter 9: Training and Tragedies

~*~*~

“Right now?” Ron replied uncertainly.

Tonks was positively beaming now. “Sure, come on. Where should we work?”

Harry and Ron shrugged, so Hermione answered, “I know that Dobby's cleaned out the attic.
It's the full length of the entire house.”

Harry nodded, “That should be plenty of room. What are we doing?”

Tonks bit her lip as they ascended the stairs. “Well, Minerva told me that I would be your
practical instructor, being an Auror and all. After hearing about the Triptych, though, I think
that I may be able to help you with control of your powers, so I will experiment with that today.
Being a Metamorphmagus, I have experience with this type of thing. I think I may be able to help
Ron and Hermione especially, though I can certainly still help you, Harry.” She opened the door and
sighed at the sight of one last small set of steps, “My this house has a lot of stairs, doesn't
it?”

They entered the room and Tonks conjured some wooden chairs. Staring at the place happily, Tonks
looked excited to be able to teach them. She motioned for Hermione and Ron to cross to the other
side of the room, and pulled Harry to her side, whispering a plan in his ear. Harry listened
intently, not sure what to make of it.

“Now,” Tonks began, speaking to all three of them now, “You've all noticed some changes in
your powers, yes?” They nodded. “But you haven't obtained any control whatsoever thus far?”
They nodded again. “Okay then! Let's see what you've got!”

She promptly picked up one of the chairs and thrust it at Hermione, who froze. Harry watched as
if in slow motion. If Ron failed to do anything, he was to wait until the last possible moment and
then freeze the chair. Just when he lifted his wand, however, a force sent the chair away, back at
Tonks, who caught it with a smile and set it back down.

“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed, “What just happened?”

Tonks waved them over and spoke when both arrived, “What do you think just happened, Ron?”

Ron shuddered a bit, “I don't know exactly. You threw the chair at Hermione and suddenly I
was scared, as if I could feel her fear. I didn't know what to do, I just felt that the chair
needed to go away, and it was like it listened to me.” Ron's eyes opened wider as he spoke, as
if shocked at his own power, which he probably was, Harry thought to himself.

Tonks grinned like a mad woman and hopped a bit, “That's exactly what I hoped would
happen!”

Ron shook his head, sighing and running his fingers through his hair, “Bloody hell.”

Hermione frowned, “That was very risky of you, Tonks.”

“Nah,” Tonks waved away her worry, “You'd have gotten a bump on your head at the worst, and
we learn how to fix those in basic training. Besides, I told Harry to freeze the chair if Ron
didn't do anything.”

“Oh,” Hermione smiled gratefully at Harry, “Okay, then.”

Tonks turned to Ron, “Now what we want to do is harness that power you have and control it. I am
not going to worry about it now because you are new with all of this, but I want you to start
thinking about it. We will work on it the next time I am here. Now you,” she turned to Hermione,
“Why didn't you do anything?”

Hermione thought a moment, biting her lip, “I don't know exactly. I just…I could not think
in time.”

“Exactly,” Tonks nodded in response, “Unfortunately, Death Eaters won't give you time
either. Because Ron's powers are rooted in emotion, that makes it a lot easier for him to act
on instinct, though a lot harder to control. Your powers are almost the opposite, really, in the
way that they work. If I am right, you will soon find that many aspects of your powers are easy to
control, but only with a lot of concentration, which you will not have during a battle. You're
going to have to learn to harness your powers like a sixth sense.” She faced Ron and Harry, “All of
you will. Follow me over here, Hermione.”

She led Hermione over a few feet to the chairs. “Levitate this chair,” she commanded. Hermione
began to squint her eyes and Tonks shook her head, smiling, “No, the way you know how.”

Hermione nodded, blushing slightly and pulling out her wand. “Wingardium Leviosa.” The chair
lifted gracefully off the ground before resting back down with Hermione's wand.

“Good,” Tonks continued, “Now do it without speaking the incantation.” Hermione did as Tonks
told her, with slightly more effort. Then Tonks instructed her to do the same things without a
wand.

Hermione concentrated for nearly a minute before the chair began to wiggle just barely. Tonks
placed a hand on her shoulder and had her stop. “It's okay. I hardly expected you to get it on
your first try.”

She turned to Harry, “So you've been getting Superman strength, right?” Harry nodded,
wondering how she possibly knew about Superman, then remembered that her father's a Muggleborn.
Tonks smiled, “Well, I hate to break it to you, Potter, but you're no stronger than you were a
few days ago. I think that your body is automatically casting a charm to lighten heavy things when
you struggle or put extra force behind your hands when you want them to, is all. Unfortunately for
you, your power is the most imbalanced and toughest to control. The nature of your powers makes you
more accident-prone, but you've been that your whole life so I expect that you're use to it
by now.” She laughed as Harry rolled his eyes, then returned to a serious tone, “You have to
control your movements very carefully whenever you're outside a neutral emotion or blank
thought process, because it won't take much to trigger the littlest things.”

Harry nodded, wondering what he would get to try, and stepped forward. Tonks bit her lip in
thought, “To be honest I'm not really sure what to do with you, yet. I could get you to do make
all kinds of hand gestures until the goblins come home, but it will not really accomplish anything.
Give me some time to think about it, okay?”

Harry nodded, “So what are we going to do now?”

Tonks shrugged, “McGonagall didn't really tell us what to plan, so I don't have anything
in particular prepared. How about we pair up and duel some. Ron and Hermione, you two pair up.” She
grinned challengingly at Harry, “And you, Potter, can duel with me. Minerva said you want to be an
Auror, so let's see what you've got.”

They all began dueling, but after some time Ron and Hermione stopped and simply watched Tonks
and Harry. Harry wanted to believe that he was putting up a good fight, but that did not stop Tonks
from beating him every time. He marveled at her never-ending source of energy, probably something
she gained during training and in the field. Despite the sweat that glistened on her skin, she was
always able to jump up and dish out more. Finally, Tonks sent Harry's wand into Hermione's
hand and dropped her own to the floor. “Okay, we're done! I am getting tired. Harry, you do put
up quite a fight for someone who has not even finished schooling.”

Harry smiled and shook her extended hand, “Thanks.”

Descending the stairs, Dobby brought them all glasses of ice water, receiving much gratitude in
response. He followed them quietly; a little too quietly, and Harry noticed. “What is it, Dobby?”
he asked, stopping.

Dobby hesitated, “Miss Granger has a visitor downstairs.”

Hermione shared a look with Harry before the two of them sprinted down the stairs, Ron and Tonks
close behind. Harry panicked. Had something happened to her parents? He knew that Hermione must
have been thinking the very same thing. When they saw Ginny standing on the landing, all four of
them sighed with relief.

That is, until Ginny launched herself at Hermione, pushing her up against the wall and glaring
at her fiercely, almost hissing as she spoke, “How could you?”

Harry was not sure if he or Ron got there first, but it took no longer than a second to remove
Ginny from Hermione. Honestly, Harry thought to himself, hadn't Hermione had enough? What was
Ginny doing, attacking her like that?

Ron held Ginny back as Harry checked to make sure Hermione was okay. Tonks stood off to the
side, quietly observing the scene unfolding.

Ginny watched as Hermione reassured Harry that she was okay. “I can't believe you, Hermione.
And just look at you two! It makes me *sick*.”

The trio shared a confused look as Ron spoke, “*What* makes you sick?”

Ginny rolled her eyes, “Don't play innocent with me! I read the article!”

“What art…oh…” Harry smiled as he remembered the laughter that they had shared over the previous
day's Daily Prophet.

Ginny gasped, “So it is true?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Is that why you are so angry? Over an article in the Daily Prophet?”
The look on Ginny's face was answer enough. Hermione scoffed, “Honestly! Does your mother
believe it as well?” Ginny nodded dumbly, clearly unsure of where this was going.

Hermione looked at Harry and rolled her eyes, then turned to Ron, continuing as she stood next
to Harry, “Ron, what do you see?” she asked, motioning to herself and Harry.

Ron shrugged, “I see you and Harry.”

Hermione nodded, “Exactly. Looking at us, does the thought enter your mind that we are involved
romantically?”

Ron shook his head, “No. You two are just friends.” Harry did not know why, but his words felt
harsh as they reach Harry's ears.

Hermione turned to Tonks, who they had ignored up until that moment, “How about you Tonks? Do
you think that we are involved romantically?”

Tonks grinned devilishly and raised an eyebrow, asking, “Are you saying that Harry is *not*
The Boy with a Bed Mate?”

Harry doubled over in a fit of laughter at this, tears of happiness leaking from his eyes. Ron
was laughing as well and Tonks continued to smile innocently. Hermione stood and tapped her foot,
and Harry felt a bit guilty for not taking things more seriously. He looked at Tonks in shock,
still laughing, `The Boy with a Bed Mate?!'”

Tonks took a bow to a nonexistent audience, “Thank you. Thank you. I made it up myself. The
shirts will be on sale in retail stores soon. There will also be companion pieces such as `The Girl
with a Boy Toy' on sale as well.”

Hermione tried to remain upset, but could not stop herself from laughing a little. “Honestly.
Does everyone we know believe that stupid article?”

Tonks shrugged, “Well Remus and I did. I mean, you know, especially after…” Harry sent her a
warning glance and Tonks switched her words without missing a beat, “After you two being friends so
long.

Harry inwardly let out a sigh of relief. He did not need Ron, Ginny, or even Hermione knowing
about how Tonks and Remus had `caught' them in his bed together. A few moments later Ginny
left, very disgruntled with what must have been an unexpected outcome. Remus showed up and together
they ate a rather late lunch or early dinner, featuring some more of Tonks' titles for Harry.
Soon Remus and Tonks went back to their flat and Hermione went upstairs to go take a shower.

Ron sat in his seat quietly, and Harry waited patiently for him to say what he was thinking.
Finally, Ron took a deep breath spoke, “So, do you think you could tell me about what happened last
night with the shattered vase?”

Harry pushed back the surge of anger and shame that ran through him as he recalled the event.
Ron did deserve to know, he reminded himself, and briefly went over the events. “I don't know
what it was,” Harry said as he finished, “but something inside of me snapped as soon as she brought
up Snape. She had a good point, too. Why, in my dream, did I want to hurt Malfoy so badly? I mean,
in the dream, he killed everyone, but even that does not make sense. I was there that night on the
tower; I saw it in his eyes. Draco Malfoy may be a general arse for all eternity, but he is not a
murderer.”

Ron nodded, shrugging a little, “I think I have an idea.”

“What?” Harry asked, anxious for some insight.

“Well, now remember, I am no Hermione so I could be totally off, but I think that a part of you
would rather that Malfoy killed Dumbledore than Snape.”

Harry let out a hallow laugh, “Oh yeah, that must be it.”

Ron held up a hand, “Hear me out. I mean if, you think about it, the idea makes sense. You have
pretty much hated Malfoy since the day you met him, so for him to kill someone you care about would
be easy to accept. However, Snape, now he is different. You have always hated him, but only because
he has this thing against you. And, you know, Dumbledore did not hate Snape; Dumbledore trusted
him. You trusted Dumbledore. Therefore, at least in some way, you trusted Snape. It's never
easy to accept it when someone you trust betrays you.”

“Wow.” Harry gave Ron an odd look, lifting an eyebrow, “When did you start become all analytical
and smart?”

Ron shrugged and smiled. “Hermione must be finally rubbing off on me. Next thing you know I will
actually want to do work and research. Won't she be pleased?” he said sarcastically.

Just then Hermione walked in, already dressed I her pajamas and bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a
towel, “What will I be pleased about?”

“You are rubbing off on Ron,” Harry answered as she sat next to him.

Hermione smiled despite herself, “Good.”

They sat quietly, munching on some fruit on the table. “Fancy some Exploding Snap?” Ron
asked.

Hermione shook her head, grinning, “I think it's time to teach you some Muggle games.”

It turns out that Ron was just as good at Muggle games as he was at Wizarding games. Hermione
went and got her own deck of cards, and Ron proceeded to beat them at every game she came up with.
Over time, Hermione's grin grew to a scowl, and after awhile Harry stopped convincing himself
that it was beginner's luck, considering he was new to many of the games as well.

Ron, possibly feeling their annoyance with him, left to go to bed, yawning exaggeratedly.
Hermione stood and turned to Harry, smiling a little and holding out her hand, “Want to go read
some?”

Harry nodded. Together they walked up the stairs to his room, each enjoying the blissful moments
of peace that had been rare on this day. Hermione sat on her side of the bed and pulled out her
book, reading as Harry got read for bed. The time went by quickly, and soon Harry finished his book
that he'd been reading. He closed it with a sigh.

“What?” Hermione asked, marking her book and closing it as well.

“I don't understand the point. After everything that happens, he dies.”

Hermione set her book on the table and turned to him, “But that *is* the point.”

Harry tilted his head, “What is?”

“It's a tragedy, Harry. In tragedies, the hero always has a fatal flaw that leads to his
destruction. Okonkwo's flaw, like many heroes, is his pride, as well as his fear of becoming
like his father.”

Harry made a face, “But he was so… mean. Shouldn't the reader feel sorry for Okonkwo?”

“You didn't?” Hermione asked, a bit shocked.

Harry shrugged and shook his head, “Why should I? He did not care about anyone. He pushed all of
the good out of himself.”

“That's not true,” Hermione said, taking the book from his hands and flipping through the
pages. She founding her spot and showed him various passages, “See here? He is worried about
Ezinma. And before that, he was worried about her mother. He has several children and three wives,
but those two hold a special place in his heart.”

“He never shows it though,” Harry mumbled, trying to prove his point.

Hermione nodded, putting the book on top of hers. “Exactly. Okonkwo's so worried about
becoming like his father or being seen as weak that he refuses to show his care and compassion. In
the end he dies with shame just like his father did,” she said sadly.

“So…” Harry tried to understand her point, “Are you saying that if he had let himself care for
people he might have lived?”

Hermione nodded, “I think if he had let himself be open to love he could have been truly great.
That is the tragedy, though. One flaw stopped that from ever happening.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Hermione turned and gave Harry a kiss on the cheek, just as
she always did. “Good night, Harry.” She climbed out of the bed and left the room.

Harry turned out the lights and pulled up the covers. As the clock ticked on, however, Harry
stopped thinking about Okonkwo and his problems, for a lack of sleep was plaguing him night after
night.

Now that was a tragedy.

“Get up!” Harry sat up instantly and a voice rang through his bedroom. Grabbing his glasses, he
stared around wildly, his head throbbing, and finally rested his eyes on Mad-eye Moody.

“Well?” Moody asked, “What are you doing? Why are you sitting in bed? I could have cursed you to
the underworld and back by now! Grab your wand! Vigilance!” Harry took a moment and tried to
process was Mad-eye was saying, and then got out of bed, standing, still rather confused about what
was going on. He heard a snicker from the corner and turned to see Ron and Hermione smiling at him,
Hermione three shades of red and hiding her behind Ron's back.

Ron stopped his chuckled for a moment nod to Harry and say, “You might want to get dressed
mate,” before laughing again.

Harry looked down to see that he was only wearing his boxers, since he had taken off all other
clothes during the night as the temperature in his room increased. Harry sighed, his head still
throbbing from the rude awakening, “Bloody hell.” Hermione snorted and Ron had to hold her up so
she would not collapse in her fit of laughter. “Oh, shut up, you two.”

Ron whispered something in Hermione's ear and she laughed even harder. At this point Harry
was greatly annoyed with the pair of them, and, feeling the need to make fun of Ron in return and
give Hermione another reason to laugh, smiled evilly at Ron. “Fine then,” he said, “See how you
like this, then.” He motioned with his hand to Ron and suddenly Ron was clad in nothing but a pair
of bright orange briefs, adorning the Chudley Cannons logo.

Hermione, who had been holding onto Ron up until that point, shrieked and let go, running
towards Harry and then stopping between them, realizing her predicament. She closed her eyes, and
turned towards Harry, “Harry Potter if you so much as think about doing that to me I'm going
to…”

“Potter!” The three of them turned to Moody, who was looking at Harry, his magical eye whizzing
between the three of them rapidly and his normal one trained on Harry.

Harry quit smiling. “Yes?”

“What did you just do to Weasley?”

“I…uh…” Harry was not sure how to respond but Hermione gasped and stared at Harry with her eyes
wide open, his lack of proper attire long forgotten. “What?” he asked her.

Hermione took a gulp of nothing before speaking, “Harry, your wand is over there.” She pointed
to the bedside table and continued, “And you didn't say an incantation. How did you remove
Ron's clothes?”

Ron and Harry caught on and gasped in unison as Moody spoke again, “How long have you been doing
things like this, Potter?”

Harry shrugged, “This is the first time I've done something like this. I've done other
things before, when I was angry. Like, just before third year I blew up my aunt.”

“Do you think you could put my clothes back on?” Ron asked. “It's a bit drafty in here.”

He teetered uncomfortable on his feet and Hermione placed her face in her hands, shaking her
head back and forth and muttering something about `too much information' and `no firewhisky in
the world strong enough.' Harry smiled, feeling a bit sorry for her. Not thinking about it, he
waved his hand and he and Ron were both properly clad once again.

Hermione looked up, back to her ready-to-learn self. “How did you do that?”

Harry stuttered, “I…I just sort of… you know… wanted to do it… and… um… so I did?”

Hermione grabbed his hand and began pulling him behind her. “Come on!” She called to the other
two. “We're going to the attic to check this out.”

They spent the next forty-five minutes trying to get Harry to do something like that again, but
it was no use. Eventually they gave up temporarily, and Mad-Eye moved on to Hermione.

“So you had a burst of Legilimency?” he asked. Hermione nodded. “And you,” he turned to Ron,
“have been having empathic powers of sorts?” Ron nodded. “Well then,” Moody went on, “let's see
what we can do. Potter, go sit down and work on keeping your mind as blank as possible. Weasley,
come here.”

Harry did as he was told, moving to the corner and sitting on the floor, attempting to tune
everything else out. It was proving to be difficult, however, so he chose to pay attention to only
one thing. Allowing the sounds of the other voices to fade away, Harry watched as a drop of water
slid down the wall, slowly and almost painfully. Sometimes it nearly stopped, but then it would
resume its coarse, allowing gravity to do its job.

“Stop! No! It hurts! I can't…no, please, no stop!” Harry turned and saw that Hermione was
sitting and sobbing. Across from her, Ron was sitting idly, clearly oblivious to her state. Harry
watched as Hermione continued to sob until he could finally take it no more. A low growl emitted
itself from deep inside him as Harry launched himself across the room, knocking Ron off his chair
and shaking him out of his trance.

Ron looked up at Harry, confused, “Did I do it?”

Harry sighed and stood, going over to Hermione, who was now sitting on the floor with her head
resting on her knees as she hugged herself. Harry sat beside her and pulled her onto his lap,
gently patting her on the back. He looked up at Ron and Mad-Eye for an explanation, not bothering
to hide the anger, “What the hell were you doing to her?”

Mad-eye rolled his normal eye, “Training, Potter. I was trying to get Weasley to achieve an
emotional link with Miss Granger. Granted, it didn't go quite as I expected…”

“You th-think?” Hermione asked, hiccupping slightly, looking up from where her head rested on
Harry's shoulder.

Ron crouched down and rested a hand on her shoulder, “I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean
to. It was an accident, a mistake.”

Hermione frowned and narrowed her eyes. “I seem to be on the wrong end of a lot of mistakes and
accidents lately,” her voice betrayed the first tone of resentment that she had dared let pass as
she sniffled lightly.

Harry sat in thought, pondering Hermione's words, as Mad-Eye informed them that their two
hours were up (how had that happened, Harry wondered) and he was going to head on his way. The
three sat in silence, just sat they had before, only Ron was sitting instead of crouching. After a
long time Harry pulled back slightly and Hermione turned to meet his gaze as he spoke, “Are you
sure that you still want to do this?”

“Training?” Hermione asked confused. “Definitely. How can we expect to be any kind of match for
Voldemort if we don't…”

“No,” Harry interrupted her, “I mean do you still want to do *this*. Stay here.”

Hermione frowned, “Harry I am not leaving, if that is what you are asking. Do you think I would
leave just because of something like this?”

Harry shrugged, letting go of his hold on her though she continued to sit on his lap. He spoke
sternly, “It's going to keep getting more dangerous.”

“It's always going to keep getting more dangerous. That's why we have to help you defeat
Voldemort,” Hermione said, Ron nodding in agreement.

“I can't promise you that accidents like today and that morning won't keep happening,”
Harry added.

“That is good of you to admit. I can't promise that they won't upset me either, no
matter whose fault it is,” Hermione countered.

Harry raised an eyebrow, “You could die.”

Hermione sighed, “Tell me, Harry, do you actually care about my opinion or are you trying to get
rid of me?”

Harry stared at her in open-mouthed shock. Not only because of her straight-forwardness, but
also because of that he was not sure of the answer. “I… I want you to stay,” he began uncertainly,
“But I don't want you to get hurt.” He looked down and watched as his fingers traced along the
floor.

Hermione lifted his chin up, smiling sadly and speaking softly, “You may not get it both ways,
Harry.”

Harry nodded. Ron shrugged his shoulders and smiled a little, relieving some tension, “So,
naturally, we make the decision for you. And that means we're not going anywhere.”

“Exactly,” Hermione added.

“Yeah,” Harry replied. Thank Merlin for that.

~*~*~

A/N: Thanks to LadyStarlight, as always.

-->



10. Rainbow
-----------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter Harry and Ginny would never have kissed in such a cheesy
fashion (or kissed period, rather). That said, I don't own it, I just play with it. :)

~*~

Chapter 10: Rainbow

~*~

They soon went downstairs to eat some lunch, knowing that Gretta Runnerstrom was next, and in
only half an hour. They had no idea what to expect from her, so they made sure that they had plenty
of food and water before cleaning up after themselves (or trying to, at least. Dobby stopped them
halfway through, demanding to finish for them).

No sooner had they left the kitchen then a familiar popping sound was heard in the foyer. Gretta
Runnerstrom greeted them with a smile, shaking their hands. Hermione spoke first, “Should we head
up to the attic, then?”

Gretta tilted her head with a bit of confusion, “No, that's quite alright. Today I would
really just like to get to know you three. I feel a bit behind, for I neither taught nor met any of
you before yesterday.”

Ron smiled with a bit of relief, “Let's go sit in the living room, then!”

Gretta allowed them to lead the way, sitting on a chair to the right corner of them as they took
seats on the couch, Hermione in the middle with Harry on the right.

“What would you like to know?” Harry asked once everyone was seated comfortably.

The woman thought for a moment. “How did you meet?”

Ron immediately launched into a story about how they had met on the Hogwarts Express. He spoke
about sharing the compartment with Harry and how his family had reacted. He also told her about
Neville's toad running away, bringing Hermione to their compartment. “Best thing Neville ever
lost, I'd say,” Ron told her with a smile, “Granted, we weren't very fond of her then…”

“You weren't?” Gretta asked, puzzled.

“No, they weren't,” Hermione answered. “I came on a bit strong, I suppose. The truth was, in
the Muggle world I always had trouble making friends because I was different, and so in the
Wizarding world I felt like I needed to learn and know everything, just to prove that I belonged
there. It backfired, though, and I came off as a know-it-all.”

Harry went on, “Then Ron, the git, made fun of her one day, Halloween actually, and she heard
him. We came to dinner and found out that she had been crying in the girls' lavatory.”

Ron laughed, “And then the troll attacked…”

“Troll?” Gretta asked, clearly fascinated and entertained with the story, and a bit shocked as
well.

Hermione nodded, “A troll was let loose in the castle. All of the students headed to the
dormitories, but since I was in the bathroom…”

“She never heard about it,” Harry continued, “Soon enough, Ron and I were trying to fight off a
troll.”

Hermione smiled, “They didn't even like me and they still wanted to protect me. And people
think Harry's the only one with a hero complex.” She rolled her eyes.

“I had no problem with you,” Harry injected, “Ron was the stupid one.”

Ron scoffed, “Sure, I'm the dumb one.” He turned and addressed Gretta, “Do you want to know
what he did?” Gretta nodded. “He jumped on the troll's back!”

Gretta laughed as Harry blushed, mumbling, “I was trying to save Hermione.”

Hermione patted his shoulder, “Ron finally managed to levitate the troll's club and hit him
over the head with it.”

“She hasn't left us alone ever since.” Ron grumbled, the corners of his lips quirking.
Hermione smacked him in the head.

Gretta smiled, “I bet that makes for a great story.”

Harry shrugged, “Yeah. I think we've got plenty of stories, though.”

“Someone should write a book about us,” Ron said.

Hermione laughed, “I think it would have to be a series with all of the things we've
done.”

Gretta nodded. “I've read about some of these things in the paper. Is it true that the two
of you dated?” she asked Harry and Hermione.

Hermione shook her head, “It wasn't true when they said it this weekend or when they said it
two, or wow, I suppose it's three years ago now.”

“Really?” Gretta asked.

“Well, Hermione was dating Krum at the time,” Ron answered, “And Harry had his eyes on Cho
Chang.”

Harry sighed, “That turned out to be a wonderful waste of time.”

“What happened?” Gretta asked, and Harry noticed Hermione and Ron listened intently as well.

“Well, she's not a bad girl, I suppose. It's just, she spent most of her time crying,
being mad at me, or being jealous of Hermione.”

Ron nodded, “Lavender got jealous of Hermione, too, at times.”

“Krum was jealous of Harry. To be honest, I was a bit jealous of Cho and Lavender,” Hermione
admitted.

“Really?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded, “I wasn't jealous of Ginny, but I think it's perhaps because I know her
better. I'm very protective of them,” she told Gretta, who seemed to understand.

“So did you two ever date?” Gretta asked Ron and Hermione, who both shifted a bit
uncomfortably.

“There was a short period of time when we grew closer, and something might have happened, but…”
Hermione began.

“It didn't work out. I think we sort of missed our chance.” Ron finished.

They all paused for a moment before Gretta spoke again. “Okay, now I want you each to tell me
something particularly unique about yourselves.” She gave them a few moments to think. “Do any of
you have something to tell me yet?”

All three of them began speaking at once. Gretta smiled, “Okay, Ron, you can go first.”

“I love chess and the Chudley Cannons.”

Gretta frowned, “I don't think you understand my question. What were you gong to say,
Hermione?”

“I love learning.”

Gretta sighed a bit, “Was your answer similar to theirs, Harry?”

Harry shrugged and nodded.

“Okay, here's your assignment until next week when I will see you again. Your answers are
telling me about the things you love. While those are important, they are not about you and you
alone. I want you each to come up with something. While you are trying to figure it out, I want you
to write. It does not have to be an essay, or even comprehensive. It just needs to be you writing
out your thoughts as you go along. If your thoughts change in the middle of a sentence, fine. If
you want to make a graph or chart, go right ahead. What I want to see is your thoughts on paper.
Try to sit down and work on it at least once a night. Next week we'll discuss what you've
come up with.”

The three of them nodded.

“Right then,” she stood, putting her cloak on, “I'm going to go. I look forward to seeing
you next week.” With that, she Disapparated.

The rest of the day passed with little event. A challenge in hand, Hermione immediately went to
her room to begin writing. Stalling, Ron offered to play some Exploding Snap with Harry, who
obliged.

They ate dinner together and then Ron left to go begin working on his own paper. Harry and
Hermione retreated to his room, where Hermione found him another book to read. After changing into
his pajamas, they sat on his bed in silence. Harry struggled to read the book in front of him, and
eventually closed it, turning to Hermione.

Hermione finished her sentence and then marked her page, “Yes, Harry?”

“What happened with you and Ron earlier?” Harry asked. “You looked so… but he didn't…
and…”

Hermione set their books on the table and turned, motioning him to lie down. He did so and she
laid her head on his stomach, looking up at him. She waiting a moment before speaking, “I'm not
sure if I can describe it. Do you remember telling me what it was like whenever Professor Snape
worked with you on Occlumency?”

Harry nodded, remembering all of the memories whizzing through his mind.

“I think it was like that,” she told him, “Only there were no memories, just the feelings behind
them. There were all kinds of emotions. Happy ones, sad ones, angry ones… and they were all being
crammed inside of me at once and I felt like I was suffocating. Like I was trying to breathe in
water. It was absolutely horrible. I could not have taken it much longer.” Hermione shuddered
slightly.

“What was Ron trying to do?”

“He was trying to channel one emotion to me. At first, he could not do anything. Then he finally
did it, and I guess he just could not control it. I don't think that he even realized that he
was doing it.”

“He didn't,” Harry replied, “I had to knock him over to get him to snap out of it.”

Sighing, Hermione spoke softly, “Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“I suppose.”

Hermione bit her lip, “Why do you think Ginny reacted the way she did?”

Harry shrugged, “I didn't give it much thought, to be honest.”

“Do you think she was jealous?” Hermione asked.

“Why would she be? She told me before we left that she thought breaking up was a good idea.
Besides, she told me that she's going out with Dean now.”

Hermione tilted her head, “She is? When did she tell you that?”

Harry took a moment to remember, “That day her and the twins came over. Remember, when you
wanted to cut my hair?”

Hermione smiled a little, the memories playing in her eyes, “I still need to do that. It's
getting rather shaggy.”

“If you say so.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever given a girl flowers?”

“No. Why would you ask that?”

Hermione shrugged, “Well, earlier you said that Cho was jealous of me. Perhaps she would have
felt better if you had given her flowers. Every woman likes getting flowers.”

“I suppose,” Harry replied, puzzled, “I can't say that I regret losing Cho, though.”

“I guess you're right.” Hermione turned her body, resting her cheek on his abdomen, her eyes
fluttering open and closed. Harry watched her, beginning to feel drowsy himself.

After a few minutes, Hermione yawned and sat up, a bit reluctantly. “I suppose I should go to
bed.”

Harry nodded despite his inner struggle. “Right. Good night, Hermione.”

“Good night,” Hermione smiled a little gave him a kiss on the cheek, lingering for just a moment
before leaving the room, turning out the lights. In the dark, Harry sighed and wondered how high he
could count before sleep would eventually come to him.

Two thousand, one hundred and nineteen.

~*~

Harry woke up rather early, just as the sun was beginning to rise, but out of sheer stubbornness
refused to leave his bed. It was not until Ron came in and suggested that he try to eat some lunch
before Remus' arrival that Harry finally gave in, yawning almost continuously.

“You okay, mate?” Ron asked as they head downstairs.

“Yeah, why?” Harry asked, stifling a yawn.

Ron rolled his eyes, “Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you have not stopped yawning since I
forced you out of bed? Have you been having nightmares again?”

Harry shook his head and almost laughed. “That would be impossible. To have nightmares one has
to be asleep.”

“You're having trouble sleeping? How is that possible? You have the nicest bed in the
house!” Ron exclaimed as they entered the kitchen.

Hermione served Harry some mini sandwiches and gave them both the highlights from the Daily
Prophet. Just as Harry forced down a fourth sandwich (Ron's orders) Remus entered the kitchen,
smiling at the three of them.

“What punishment are you planning to put us through?” Harry asked as they headed to the
attic.

Remus grinned in a way that reminded Harry of Hermione whenever she learned something
particularly fascinating. He opened the door to the attic and ushered them in, speaking, “Actually,
after our discussion Monday I decided to do some research. Today I want us to work on your
Apparating powers. Have the three of you worked with them at all yet?”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Have you tried Apparating to each other using the necklaces?” Remus rephrased his question and
they shook their heads. He nodded, as if he had assumed as much, and turned to Hermione. “Hermione,
I want you to go anywhere in the house, anywhere you like. Don't tell us.”

Hermione bit her lip, “But how will you know when I've gotten there?”

“Dobby?” Ron called.

Dobby popped in with a smile, “Yes, Mr. Wheezy?”

“Can you go with Hermione and then come back here when she gets where she needs to be?” Ron
asked the little elf.

Dobby nodded enthusiastically and took Hermione's outstretched hand, following her down the
stairs.

As they waited Remus turned to Ron, “Now Ron, when Dobby comes back here, I want to you attempt
to Apparate to Hermione. You wont be able to use you `Three D's' …” Harry snorted and then
sent an apologetic glance Remus' way, motioning for him to go on, “So instead you will have to
concentrate on Hermione and your connection with her. When you feel ready you can try to Apparate
to her. If you do not find her, simply Apparate on back to the attic. If you find her, tell her to
move to a new spot.”

Ron nodded, “Got it.” A moment later Dobby came back, giving Ron his cue. Ron's face screwed
up in concentration and after several minutes he Disapparated. Immediately following, Ron's
voice sounded from somewhere downstairs, “Bloody hell! I thought I had it.” Ron cursed and then
Apparated back. Harry swore he heard Hermione giggling, but the sound seemed to be coming from
somewhere inside of him.

“Where did you go?” Remus asked Ron.

Ron shrugged and smiled a bit sheepishly, “The library.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “You're supposed to concentrate on Hermione, Ron, not a
location.”

“I did!” Ron exclaimed, “Can I help it that when I think of Hermione the first thing that comes
to my mind is the library?”

Harry laughed and prepared himself, knowing that his turn was next. Before he could begin to
think, however, and light pop sounded in the room, and Tonks stood grinning.

She gave Remus a quick peck on the cheek before speaking, “I'm on a lunch break and thought
I would stop by. How's training going?”

“Good,” Remus answered, “We're working their special Apparition powers.” Tonks eyes widened
with fascination and Remus continued, “Ron just tried it and now it's Harry's turn. Go on,
Harry.”

Harry nodded, focusing in on Hermione. Immediately a picture of her popped into his head. How
she looked when studying, or when she was angry. He remembered her storming into his room the night
of her disaster with Ron. He also remembered how she had looked in the morning, sleeping peacefully
despite Ron's presence in the room. Harry tried to focus on his connection with her. What was
his connection with her? He was her friend. Yes, he was her friend. Harry mentally slapped himself.
Remus was talking about their connection with the Triptych.

There was that giggling again. Harry focused all of his energy on it, then closed his eyes and
Apparated, not exactly sure where he was going. He was quite surprised to find himself sitting on
his bed.

“You found me!” Harry opened his eyes, just as Hermione leaned over and gave him a light hug,
standing afterward.

Harry nodded. “Did you do that on purpose?” he asked, referring to the giggling.

“Do what?” Hermione asked, pulling him off the bed.

“Er… never mind. We should get back.” Harry wondered if he was slowly developing the sanity of
Gildroy Lockhart.

Hermione nodded, “You're right. Let's go!” She Apparated. Harry was just about to follow
her when his eyes landed on something on the table. He grabbed them and Apparated to the attic.

Upon arriving, Harry handed three of the lilies to Hermione and the other three to Tonks. Both
of the females blushed. Remus and Ron stared at Harry in shock.

“Very smooth, Potter. Trying to steal my girlfriend?” Remus asked with a grin.

Harry shrugged, “I just saw them in the vase and…” Harry suddenly felt rather stupid, “Just
that, well… all women like getting flowers.” He watched his feet, suddenly very interested in the
wooden floor.

Hermione beamed and gave Harry a hug, whispering in his ear “Thank you, Harry.” Harry felt a bit
light headed as she let go and Ron mumbled something under his breath about how he would have done
it if there were flowers in the library.

Harry looked up to see Remus going a bit misty eyed. “What is it?” Harry asked curiously.

Remus smiled, shaking his eyed, “Nothing, it's just… that was very James-like of you. He
would have been proud, claiming to have taught it to you.” He wiped at his eyes with the back of
his sleeve and Tonks gave him a hug.

Tonks soon left to get some lunch and the other four of them soon went back to practicing. Harry
and Hermione both excelled at Apparating to each other and Ron, but Ron was still struggling with
getting to either of them. After a couple hours Remus called it a day and left. The three of them
left to work on their papers for Gretta.

As Harry wrote, he did not feel as if he was achieving very much. Finding something unique about
himself was difficult. There were many unique things about him, such as an evil dark lord after him
since infancy, but he had a strong feeling that Gretta was not talking about things like that.
Giving up for the day, he left to go eat some dinner in the kitchen. He could tell that Ron and
Hermione had already eaten when he saw Dobby doing dishes. He had his own bowl of soup with some
toast and then went to his room, expecting to find Hermione there, reading. When he did not see
her, he left to go find out where she was.

After looking in her room and the study, Harry went on a hunch and found her in the attic,
staring rather intently at a chair. “What are you doing?” Harry asked.

Hermione jumped and let out a tiny squeak, placing a hand on her chair as she caught her breath.
“Oh, Harry! You scared me!”

Harry leaned against the door frame, “You didn't answer my question.”

“What am I doing? Oh, I was just…” Hermione looked at the chair and turned a bit pink, “I was
just trying to…”

“You were trying to levitate that chair, weren't you?” Harry asked, remembering their lesson
with Tonks.

Hermione nodded, looking a bit embarrassed, “I still can't do it; it is quite difficult.
What are you doing up here?”

“I was looking for you,” Harry answered, “I was wondering if you wanted to come read, but if
you're busy…”

“No, I can come read!” Hermione interrupted, holding up her hand to stop him, “I didn't
realize out how late it was getting. Just let me go change and I'll meet you in a bit.”

Harry nodded and headed to his room. Deciding to take a shower, he headed into the bathroom.
Once he was finished, he realized that he had forgotten to grab his pajamas. “Smooth,” Harry
muttered to himself as he wrapped a towel around his waist. Without thinking, he walked back into
his room and began looking for some clothes. He was just about to take the towel off and put some
boxers on when Hermione walked in.

“I'm sorry!” She turned bright red and covered her face, “I should have knocked!”

Harry watched as she stood completely still by the door, a hand firmly clamped over her eye.
Figuring that she was not about to look if Voldemort walked in with the circus, he quickly changed
and walked over to her.

“It's fine now, Hermione, you can open her eyes,” he told her.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked.

Harry could not help but smile at the look on her face. “Yes, I'm sure.”

Hermione peaked through a couple fingers, evaluating Harry's appearance before taking her
hand down. “I'm sorry. I did not mean to just barge in like that. I assumed that you had
already changed.” She got into the bed, speaking at about a kilometer a minute as she grabbed her
book, her face slowly returning to its normal complexion.

“What?” she asked Harry, who was still watching her from across the room, “Why are you still
standing there?”

Harry shook his head and sat next to her, “Nothing. You're just funny when you're
embarrassed, that's all.”

Hermione sighed, “Well excuse me. It's not my fault that you and Ron enjoy walking around
half dressed.”

“Nuh-uh,” Harry replied, shaking a finger at her, “I was in my own bedroom. This time it was
your fault.”

“Oh, do shut up,” Hermione mumbled, burying her face in her book.

Harry shrugged, “Whatever you say.”

They read in silence for an hour or so. Eventually Hermione set down her book, taking
Harry's as well. “We have an easy day tomorrow. Just Tonks in the afternoon.”

Harry scoffed, “I was pretty tired after Tonks' last lesson.”

“My apologies. Ron and I have an easy day tomorrow. Good night, Harry,” Hermione gave Harry a
kiss on the cheek, lingering slightly just as she had the night before, then left.

*Well,* Harry thought to himself, *Best get counting then.* Soon Harry began his
second night of counting. How high would he get this time?

Two thousand, seven hundred and forty-six.

~*~

The next day went by with little event. Tonks' training session was grueling. They worked
some more on Apparating (Ron could almost do it every time now) and then moved on to basic combat
skills. Harry naturally excelled, and Ron was quite good, but Hermione struggled a bit. Tonks also
worked with Ron on some more Instant Reaction exercises, as she had come to call them. She tried to
get Harry to perform some wandless magic, but he failed to do it. Finally, she had Hermione attempt
to lift the chair again, resulting with very little success and a rather confounded and
disconcerted Hermione.

Overall, the session lasted several hours, not ending until an hour after they normally ate
dinner. Tonks pulled Hermione aside and then left. They met in the kitchen.

“What was that about?” Ron asked Hermione as they feasted on the wonderful food prepared by
Dobby.

“You two get the day off tomorrow,” Hermione answered. “Tonks is going to come back up here with
Gretta tomorrow and they are going to work with me.”

“Oh, okay. You want to go to Diagon Alley then, Harry?” Ron asked.

Harry shrugged and nodded, chewing on his food.

After dinner, they all left to their rooms, working on their unique attributes. Once a little
over an hour had past and Harry had made no new insights, he set his growing pile of papers aside
and went to find Hermione. When he found her, she was at her desk, asleep on top of a stack of
papers at least three times as large as Harry's. Harry gently woke her up just enough to guide
her to bed and under the covers. Without thinking, Harry waved a hand over her, putting her in
nightclothes.

He tried to harness what he had just done and do things similar, but it seemed to be no use.
Turning out the light, Harry headed to his room, his fowl mood growing.

Three thousand and twenty-five.

~*~

Harry woke up Friday much the same as he had fallen asleep, annoyed and tired. Of course, this
would not steer Ron away from his plans for the day. He mercilessly pulled Harry from his bed and
forced him to dress. In no time at all, they were walking the streets of Wizard London. The weather
matched Harry's mood, with clouds darkening the summer day.

“Right,” Ron said, “Hermione has a couple of books that she wants us to pick up, so I figure
that we should do that first.” Harry followed Ron into Flourish and Blotts and stood by the door as
his friend wandered around what was clearly unknown territory. After twenty minutes, and with the
help of a store clerk, Ron managed to get the desired books. He then led the way to Weasley's
Wizard Wheezes. On the way, they ran into Dean.

“Hey, Dean!” Ron greeted their former roommate. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just stopping by Fred and George's shop. They've got some really great
merchandise,” Dean replied. “How's Ginny?”

Harry tilted his head, confused, “Shouldn't you know?”

Dean shook his head, “I don't think so, why? Did something happen?”

“Not that I know of. Ginny told me that you two got back together,” Harry answered.

Dean laughed a little, “Not that I wouldn't love that, but if that is the case she certainly
has not told me.”

Harry shook his head, “No. Perhaps she said someone else.”

“Someone else?!” Ron exclaimed. “Just how many guys is my sister dating, anyway?”

Harry shrugged, “Apparently we aren't the ones to know.”

Dean glanced at his watch, “Well, I've got to go, guys. See you later!” With that, he turned
and headed in the direction of Fred and George's store. They were just about to step through
the door when Dobby popped in front of them.

“What Dobby?” Harry asked.

“Harry Potter and Mr. Wheezy must come quick! Miss Granger is not being so good. She is needing
her Harry and her Wheezy!” He anxiously tugged on their cloaks.

Harry and Ron shared an urgent look before Apparating back to Grimmauld Place in the attic. They
found Hermione kneeling on the floor with her hand cradled against her body, a stubborn look on her
face as a steady stream of tears ran past her eyes. Gretta stood a bit away and Tonks was crouching
next to Hermione, wand in her hand, “Hermione, if you just let me have a look at it I can heal
it…”

“No!” Hermione exclaimed with a bit of fear and anger, “You can't fix it! I need Harry and
Ron. Go get them, please!”

“We're here, Hermione,” Harry answered taking Tonks' place and Tonks stood.

“What happened?” Ron asked as Harry had a look at Hermione's bruising arm.

“We were trying to levitate the chair again,” Tonks replied. “Hermione was having difficulty so
I thought that if I levitated it for her she might gain some confidence. But when I levitated it, I
don't know, it was as if she was pulling it to her. It smacked her in the arm, and I think she
may have fractured something. She refused to let Gretta or myself help, though.”

Ron looked to Hermione for confirmation and she nodded. Harry used the healing spells that he
had learned from Madam Pomfrey over the years and healed Hermione's arm. He then stood and
pulled Hermione up as well.

“It's the Triptych,” Gretta said, “as you wear the necklaces, your bond is strengthening.
For a time period you may feel like no outsiders can reach you like each other can.”

They nodded, remembering Hermione telling them the same thing. Hermione seemed to have calmed
down, and everyone seemed to be okay. Harry, however, was not.

Perhaps he had simply woken up on the wrong side of bed, or perhaps he was just sick of not
knowing exactly what was going on, but Harry was growing angrier by the second. Hermione was the
first to notice, and backed away slightly. “What is it, Harry?”

“I… am so… sick of this!” Harry yelled. “We're doing all of this training and what have we
got to show for it? A few party tricks? How is any of this going to help us? Ron is still having
trouble Apparating to us and any time he tries to channel his emotions something bad happens. I can
do wandless things, but only when it doesn't occur to me that I am doing them. And this chair…”
Harry rounded on the chair that had been mocking Hermione from day one. “Hermione has been going
crazy trying to lift this stupid chair, and for what reason? So it can sing and dance? What is the
point of levitating a STUPID CHAIR?!”

Harry pointed at the said chair and simultaneously flung it across the attic room, breaking it
into at least fifty pieces as it made contact with the wall that door about fifteen meters away.
His heart pounded as he stared at the former chair, the hairs standing on the back of his neck.

Ron was the first to move, letting out a low whistle, “About time someone smashed that thing.
Good job, mate.”

“Alright, then,” Tonks said, her voice slightly above pitch, “I think that about wraps things up
for today. I'll see you three next week.” She Disapparated, Gretta following soon after.

“I'm going to go take a nap,” Ron announced. “All of this excitement has got me knackered.”
He saluted Harry and headed down the stairs.

Hermione approached Harry hesitantly, “Are you okay?”

Harry nodded, “That felt good.”

Light laughter escaped Hermione as she led him down the stairs, “Thank you for that. I was about
to smash that thing with my bare hands, but your way seems much easier.”

“Well I'm all about convenience,” Harry replied as he sat on a couch in the living room.
Hermione took a seat by the window, still watching him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

Harry sighed, “Yeah. I'm just in a bad mood today.”

Hermione nodded, “Do you really think that training is pointless?”

“No, I'm just annoyed with how slowly we are progressing.”

“It's only the first week,” Hermione reminded him, “I'm sure that things will speed up
plenty soon enough.”

“I guess.” They sat in silence for several minutes.

“It's raining,” Hermione said, looking out one of the windows that was not enchanted.

“Is it?” Harry asked in return. “I hadn't noticed. It was cloudy earlier.”

“Do you want to go out on the roof?” Hermione asked.

“While it's raining?” Harry asked just to clarify.

Hermione nodded and smiled gently. Harry could feel that she wanted to, and therefore consented.
“Sure.”

Hermione beamed and held out her hand, leading him up the stairs to the door that led to the
roof. It only took about five seconds of being outside for them to get completely soaked by the
pouring rain.

“What are we doing out here?” Harry asked, already uncomfortable in his wet clothes.

Hermione simply led him to a slant in the mostly flat roof and leaned next to him against it,
still holding his hand. “I like the rain,” she replied, watching the drops pitter-patter on the
panes.

“Why?” Harry asked, studying her face and trying to understand.

Hermione shrugged just barely, “Because it's the start of something new.” She smiled at him,
willing him to understand. He watched as the raindrops hit her face and then slid down. Her
normally bushy hair sat flat on her head. “Plants that were dying now have a chance to live, Harry,
and everything is clean again. What could possibly be more beautiful than that?” She smiled as she
watched the water fall from the sky.

Harry looked at Hermione with amazement as she stared at the surrounding houses. He had never
heard her talk like this before. She had always spoken in a way of quoting facts and things that
she had read somewhere or another, or by asking questions in an attempt to learn more. However
this, this way of speaking, could not have been something she had read. As he watched, Harry
realized that he was seeing Hermione, and just Hermione. This girl, or woman, was a person that was
completely unique, and he was seeing a part of her that would have existed even if she was not a
witch or if she hadn't met him. It was simply Hermione.

“You're incredible,” Harry said, the words surprising him as they escaped his lips just
barely loud enough for her to hear him.

She looked up, taken out of her thoughts, “Why?” Harry could tell that she was not really
questioning him, but rather just wanted to know why he thought that.

Harry scooted closer to her, close enough to feel her presence, “Because of things like this.”
He motioned to the rain. “There's a war going on, you and your best friends could die, and
it's a rainy day, but you see it for something that others don't. You see it as something
beautiful and magical, but a different kind of magical than we are used to. You take something that
could depress anyone else, and turn it into a fairytale.” Harry marveled with amazement and
awe.

Hermione stared at him intently as he spoke, her eyes becoming red, but not from the rain. She
stood up in front of him as he continued to lean against the roof so that she was at eye-level with
him. “Maybe with this magic you can make the world a little bit lighter, so your shoulders
won't hurt so much,” she suggested quietly, looking into his eyes.

Harry placed a hand on her cheek, and the corner of his lip quirked just slightly, “You already
do that.”

Hermione settled her face into his palm, closing her eyes, “I do?”

Harry nodded as she opened her eyes again, “I don't understand it, but it seems that every
time I'm with you lately the world gets a little lighter. When you come in at night, just
before we go to sleep, I often forget that anyone else ever exists or that there was ever a weight
on my shoulders. Sometimes, like just now, I don't even feel it anymore.”

Hermione lip quivered slightly, “Really?”

“Yeah. When you leave the feeling goes away, though.” Harry brushed a piece of hair out of her
eyes.

Hermione leaned in slowly and wrapped her arms around his neck, her face just inches from his,
“I wish I could make it go away forever for you.” She kissed his forehead, something she had done
many times before. “You don't deserve this.”

Harry smiled sadly and kissed her cheek, whispering in her ear, “Neither do you.”

As he drew away, they stared into each other's eyes for an amount of time that neither of
them would ever know. It could have been hours or days, or perhaps only a matter of seconds. They
studied each other, and felt something break. They did not know what it was, and did not have time
to question it. All they knew was that with every inch that their faces drew closer, another piece
of their friendship that they had treasured and protected for so long was changed forever. What
they also knew was that it was inevitable, and only a matter of time before destiny took over. This
was happening, and it made *sense*.

Their lips met and Harry felt his heart break, only to start pulling itself together. Her lips
parted and he felt whole again, a feeling that he had not known for a long time. His lungs screamed
for air, but Harry continued to kiss her, if only for just one second more. They finally let go,
and they knew that they had just changed their lives forever.

Hermione rested her forehead against Harry's, holding him close and staring into his soul.
After a moment, Harry turned his head just slightly, so it was still touching hers, but so he was
now looking over her shoulder.

“What's wrong?” Hermione asked, her brow furrowing as she read him carefully.

“Everything's going to change now, isn't it?” Harry asked after a moment, looking down
at his feet.

Hermione said nothing, but simply nodded and held him closely, resting her head on his shoulder,
and giving him an occasional kiss on the cheek or neck, just to remind him that she was not taking
it back.

Harry felt her lips on his skin and smiled before his chest began to hitch slightly,
Hermione's doing the same. He pulled her up, looking at her, “You feel it, too, don't you?”
He asked.

Hermione nodded, “This is not going to be easy.”

Harry laughed a little, “Well, it wouldn't be us if it was now would it?”

Hermione gave him a kiss on the nose, frowning a little, “No, I suppose it would not be us.”

They held each other for several moments before Harry smiled, speaking, “It's okay, though,
Hermione.”

Hermione tilted her head, smiling with question, “Why?”

Harry gave her a soft kiss and grinned. “Because it's raining.” Hermione turned around and
slipped into his arms, staying there for an unknown amount of time, watching as the rain began to
subside, and smiling at the rainbow forming in the distance.

~*~

A/N: As always, a big thanks to Lady Starlight! Please review! :)

-->



11. Adjusting
-------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: It's not mine, but I do what I want with it anyway. Feel free to sue me for
piracy, I have nothing to give you.

~*~

Chapter 11: Adjusting

~*~

After several minutes (and many more kisses) Hermione turned to Harry. “You know what we have to
do now, right?” she asked.

Harry, only half hearing her because he was thinking about how pretty her hair looked when she
was wet from the rain, shook his head.

Hermione smiled at his expression, “We have to tell Ron.”

Harry blinked confused, “We do?”

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione laughed, “Because, aside from the Triptych and that our powers are tied
to the bond we share, he is also our best friend and it would be good to tell him.”

Harry winced. This would be wonderfully difficult. “But couldn't we just,” he smiled and
kissed her, “do this,” he kissed her again, “instead?”

“You're going to be trouble,” Hermione said as he began to leave a trail of kisses along her
neck, “I can already tell. Still,” she gently pushed him away and laughed at his sad expression,
“we need to talk to Ron.”

Harry nodded in defeat, able to tell that she was not going to let up. “Come on, then,” he said,
taking her hand in his, “Let's go find him.”

After searching the house for a few minutes, they looked in the kitchen, where they found a note
on the table. Hermione read Ron's untidy scroll aloud, “Gone to Diagon Alley. I'll be back
later. -Ron.”

Harry checked to make sure that Ron had not written anymore, “Why do you think he left without
telling us?”

Hermione shrugged, “Maybe he couldn't find us. I mean, I doubt he would think that we'd
be on the roof.”

Harry nodded, though he had an odd feeling. “So what do you want to do now?” he asked, unable to
contain his grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly Harry,” she sighed and left the kitchen, Harry closely on
her heels, “We've been together less than an hour and already I can't get rid of you.”

“Do you want to?” Harry asked with seriousness as they reached her bedroom.

Hermione turned around and sighed. “Of course not, don't be silly,” she replied, lacing her
arms around his neck, “Do you want to get rid of me?”

Harry shook his head, “Never.”

She smiled and gave him a peck on the forehead, “Good, now go to your room so I can change into
my pajamas. You can change, too, while you are at it. I love the rain, but I don't like wet
garments.”

Harry looked at his watch, puzzled, “But it's only four o'clock. Why are you putting on
your nightclothes?”

Hermione shrugged, “Are we planning on going anywhere?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Well then I say we can change into our nice and dry pajamas, you can ask Dobby to make some hot
cocoa, and then I can meet you in your room where we can sit in front of the fireplace, next to
each other... How does that sound?” Hermione asked, her eyes dancing.

Harry felt a bit lightheaded, “I…I say that sounds good. I will get right on that.” With that,
he let Hermione push him out of her room and proceeded to head up to his own, still in a slight
daze.

“Dobby?” he called, closing his door behind him.

“Yes, Harry Potter?” Dobby asked.

“Could you make Hermione and me I some hot cocoa and bring it up here when you're done?”
Harry asked as he pulled out a change of nightclothes. Dobby nodded and left.

Harry had just pulled his shirt over his head when Hermione walked in wearing penguin pajamas,
complete with a bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. Smiling at the sight, Harry walked over and pulled her
to him. “You're beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, then placed a kiss on top of her head.

Hermione blushed and smiled, “You're going to spoil me rotten, Harry.”

“I plan to enjoy every minute of it.”

Hermione left his arms and walked over to the fireplace, sitting on the couch across from it.
Soon crackling flames began to dimly light the room. Harry walked over and sat next to her, but
then tilted his head in confusion. “Where is your wand?” he asked.

“I left it in my room, why?” Harry waited a moment and then watched as realization donned on
her.

“Harry, I did it!” Hermione exclaimed, hopping onto his lap and kissing him as she continued
speaking. “I did it! I used wandless magic! I cannot believe it! This is,” she paused and gave
Harry a long kiss, “This is unbelievable!”

Harry watched as Hermione got up and began dancing around the room, and then began jumping up
and down on Harry's bed in a way that much resembled a five year old. Ron walked in and looked
at her like she had sprung a third head (never mind the second).

“What finally made her go round the bend?” Ron asked Harry with an eyebrow raised.

Harry watched as Hermione ran up to Ron and pounced him, giving him a bone crushing hug as he
held her up, still confused. Harry walked over to them, speaking, “She just did wandless magic,
Ron.”

“Oh,” Ron said as Hermione got back on her own feet, ran over, and hugged Harry again, “What did
she do?”

“I lit the fireplace!” Hermione exclaimed, still bouncing on her feet slightly. Then she seemed
to realize that Ron was there and calmed down quite suddenly, “Hey, Ron, come over here. You too,
Harry.” She walked over and sat on Harry's bed. With a shrug, Ron followed her, Harry close
behind.

Harry sat across from Ron and next to Hermione, letting her speak since she had clearly already
thought this through, “We've got to tell you something, Ron.”

“Okay,” Ron said slowly, studying them, “Is this about you two getting together?”

The expressions on Harry and Hermione's faces would have been quite comical to an outsider.
Their jaws dropping in unison, looking like a pair of deer caught in headlights.

Harry was the first to find his voice, “How…how did you…but we just…”

Ron sighed, “I bloody felt it, that's how.”

“You felt it?” Hermione asked, astonished.

Ron nodded and made a face, “I felt like I was stuck in some girls' movie, only I did not
get to see the scene. Mind you,” he said, holding up his hands, “I am quite sure that I'm
better off without the visual, thanks.”

Hermione reached out to Ron but he drew back. “We're sorry, Ron.”

“Yeah,” Harry added, “we didn't know that it was going to happen, and definitely didn't
know how it would affect you like that.”

“Is that why you went to Diagon Alley?” Hermione asked.

Ron nodded, “I also went to go see Fred and George since Harry and I didn't get the chance
this morning.”

Hermione sucked in a breath, “You didn't tell them anything, did you?”

“No. Would it matter if I did?” Ron quizzed.

Harry and Hermione shared a look and Harry spoke, “Could we keep it between just the three of
us?”

“Yeah,” Ron replied, biting his lip, “Why?”

Harry sighed, “Because I don't want the bloody world knowing, I suppose.”

Hermione nodded in agreement, “And I have my parents get the Daily Prophet. I just told them
that the last article was not true. They'd be horribly confused, and I would like to tell
them.”

Hermione moved to sit next to him. “Are you okay with this?” she asked him softly.

He shrugged in reply, “Would it really matter if I wasn't?”

“We probably wouldn't end things if that's what you're asking,” Harry replied, “but
it would definitely matter.” Ron looked at Hermione, who nodded in agreement.

He shrugged, “Is this real or is it just something you two are doing?”

“It's real,” Harry and Hermione responded without so much as a glance at one another.

Ron made an indescribable face, “I suppose I'll just have to get used to it.” He turned to
Hermione and smiled, “So you did wandless magic?”

Harry watched as Hermione immediately forgot the subject at hand and began to talk rapidly,
recounting what had happened in extensive detail (though leaving out any kissing that took place)
for Ron. Harry, however, was not as easily distracted, and watched as his friend occasionally sent
him a guilty glance.

About fifteen minutes later Ron finally managed to escape and Hermione began to return to a
human state again. Hermione came over to Harry, who had moved back to the couch, and sat on his
lap. She grinned at him.

“What?” Harry asked with amusement.

Hermione ran her fingers along his shoulder, seeming to ponder something, “You'll think
it's stupid.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Nothing about you is stupid.”

“Fine,” Hermione grinned again and took a deep breath, “I'm Harry Potter's
girlfriend.”

Laughter erupted from Harry's chest as Hermione recited the words, “You say it like it's
some kind of award you've won. Like an Order of Merlin or something.”

he laid her head against his chest, exhaling contently, “You know, nothing has really changed,
if you think about it. We just kiss now.”

“Oh, so that's why you were smiling then,” Harry kid.

Hermione swatted him on the arm, “You know what I mean.”

Harry nodded, “I suppose. We were rather close to begin with, weren't we?”

“It's a bit of a relief, actually. We do not have to go through that awkward stage of
getting to know each other. I already know almost everything about you.” They sat in silence for
several moments until Hermione spokes again, “Do you really think he's okay?”

“I don't know,” Harry sighed, “He seems to be taking it rather well…” he bit his lip, “How
about I talk to him some tomorrow. Will that make you feel better?”

Hermione nodded and smiled, but it soon faded, “So are we going to pretend that there's no
other reason that we don't want people to know about us?”

Bending to kiss her forehead, Harry whispered, “Is it so bad that we haven't been together a
full day and I already don't want to lose you?”

“No. It's odd, but certainly not horrible,” Hermione said, her voice no longer louder than a
whisper as well, “The thought of losing you is far worse than anything else I can imagine.”

Harry nodded, running his fingers through her hair. As his eyelids began to weigh down he failed
to stifle a yawn.

Hermione turned and looked at him with concern, “Why are you already tired? It's only six
o'clock.”

Harry shrugged and yawned again. “It's been a long week, with training and all. That, and I
haven't been sleeping so well.” Harry felt the heat rise to his cheeks.

She smiled sympathetically, “And what might have caused this?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her teasing, “Maybe I just need a new mattress.”

Hermione laughed and placed a gentle hand on his cheek, “I had trouble sleeping, too.”

“Really?” Harry could not contain his happiness upon hearing that he was not alone, “But you
always seemed fine…”

Hermione blushed guiltily, “After two nights I started using sleeping potions.

“Right,” Harry mentally punched himself, “Well, I feel like the world's biggest dolt.”

“No, that would be Ron. You're a close second, though,” Hermione grinned. Harry yawned again
and Hermione stood, pulling him up with her, “You are going to sleep right now, Harry Potter. And
don't even consider arguing with me.”

Harry sighed contently at the thought of getting a full night's rest, “Wouldn't dream of
it.” *Dreaming, what a pleasant thought…*

Hermione put out the fire as they got under the covers. Without thinking, Harry drew her close,
and within minutes both were fast asleep.

Meanwhile, Ron felt very disconcerted as he sat and ate downstairs. The food was not making him
feel better, a very rare case indeed. Deciding that he needed to talk to them, he headed up to
Harry's room, stopping just outside the door.

*Dear Merlin, what if they are snogging?* Ron thought to himself. *I suppose I could
knock…no answer. Okay, it is fine, just shut your eyes, Ron, there's a good chap. Now turn the
doorknob… I cannot hear anything. Are they even in here?*

Ron opened his eyes and saw his two best friends asleep, rather innocently, actually. The only
sign to indicate that they were a couple was Harry's arm peacefully draped across Hermione,
almost protectively. Smiling despite himself, Ron quietly closed the door.

“Oh, it's fine,” Ron told himself, “I can simply milk this for all of its worth in the
morning.” And with that he went back to his dinner.

~*~

Saturday morning came and went, with Harry not waking up until the late morning. His eyes
fluttered open and he found himself alone in his bed, just as always. Blinking, he put on his
glasses and scanned the room, hearing his shower on. Wondering why someone would be in his shower,
he knocked with curiosity just after the water turned off.

“Yes?” Hermione's voice responded.

“Hermione? Why are you in my bathroom?” Harry did a quick mental check on how messy he had left
it.

The door opened and Hermione stood in front of Harry, wet hair hanging down her back with a
flannel bathrobe…

“Is that my bathrobe?” Harry asked, astonished.

Hermione smiled sweetly, “Good afternoon to you, too.” She reached up and gave him a quick peck
on the lips. Morning disorientation left Harry as the previous day's events came back to him,
causing Hermione's presence in his bathroom to make much more sense. “And yes, I'm sorry,
but I left my robe in here and didn't want to walk out to get it when I was all wet. I promise
I'll ask Dobby to wash it and you'll never even know I had it.”

Thinking that the chances of him ever being able to look at the bathrobe again without certain
thoughts flooding his mind was unlikely, Harry smiled and gave her another kiss, “You can have it.”
Then he realized something, “Are you wearing anything under that?”

Hermione rolled her eyes as she walked across the room to retrieve the change of clothes that
she had apparently brought up, “I just got out of the shower, Harry. What do you think?”

Harry closed his eyes firmly before opening them again and heading to the door, “I think that
I'm going to go meet Ron for breakfast. See you down there.”

He entered the kitchen and sat at the table next to Ron, “How long have you been up?”

Ron rolled his eyes, “Longer than you. I tried to eat some breakfast a few hours ago and I found
Hermione in here trying to make breakfast without a wand.”

“Did she do it?” Harry asked with curiosity.

“Are you mad? When it did not work she tried to do half of it manually, but all she did was end
up burning some perfectly good pancake batter. Finally Dobby and I got her to stop.” Ron
laughed.

Harry remembered Hermione's concerns the evening before and changed the subject, “So are you
really okay with us?”

Ron shrugged and shifted uncomfortably, “Yeah. I mean, I do not really have a problem with it;
it is just odd. I never even considered you two getting together. When Hermione and I did not work
out, I thought the three of us would just remain friends for the rest of our lives, each finding
some one else. Now I just feel behind, or left out.”

Harry sighed, “I promise that we won't try to leave you out. Minimal change is the
goal.”

Ron snorted, “I can be left out of some things, but thanks. I saw you two last night after you
feel asleep. Is she planning on moving into your room?”

“Er…” Harry considered it for a moment and realized the likeliness of it, “I suppose so.
She's already taken over my bathroom. Why? Would that be weird?”

“No,” Ron shrugged, “I just want her room is she does. It is bigger and her new bed is very
comfortable. She let me lay on it after training earlier this week.” Ron smiled at the memory and
then quickly snapped out of it, “Oh, and there's probably something I should tell you
mate.”

“What?” Harry asked, taking a drink of orange juice.

“She won't have sex until she's married.”

Harry began choking on his juice as Hermione walked in, “Hello! Oh, Harry, are you all right?
Ron, what did you do to him?”

“We were just talking,” Ron replied innocently. Harry sent him a glare when Hermione was not
looking.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat across from them as Harry calmed. “So Harry, I was thinking of
what we can do today.”

“So much for not leaving me out…” Ron mumbled in a joking manner.

Hermione gave him an annoyed glance, “Well, you are more than welcome to watch me cut
Harry's hair, but I assumed that you'd have better things to do.”

“Not really,” Ron smiled. Harry, still thinking about Ron's words earlier, was becoming
irritated with his friend's new light-hearted manner.

Hermione sighed and then turned to Harry with a smile, “So how about it?”

Harry considered this, “You aren't going to change it, are you?”

“Just a trim, I swear,” Hermione replied, clearly eager to do this.

Knowing that turning her down was clearly not an option, Harry nodded. With a happy squeal,
Hermione got up and left the kitchen, saying something about special scissors. It took no more than
two seconds for Harry to turn and hit Ron upside the head.

“Ow!” Ron exclaimed, “What was that for?”

“You know exactly what that was for!” Harry replied, “What was with that little tidbit of
information before Hermione walked in? First of all, I hadn't even thought of that yet…”

“Liar,” Ron interrupted.

“Huh?” Harry asked, thrown off by being stopped mid-rant.

“You're lying,” Ron repeated, “I may not have feelings for her anymore, but a chap would
have to be both blind and stupid to not see how gorgeous Hermione is. Since you spend more time
with her than me, even before *recent events*, I know for a fact that it had to have crossed
your mind at least once.”

“Maybe,” Harry mumbled, “But…”

“And furthermore, I did not say that to play with your head. It's the truth and I thought
I'd give you a head up incase you got any ideas.” Ron finished with a pointed glance.

“How do you even know this?” Harry asked.

“She told me during one of our patrols fifth year,” Ron replied simply.

“Oh.” Harry slumped in thought for a few moments before Hermione walked back in, giddy as ever.
“Ready?”

They went to Hermione's room to cut his hair since it already had two mirrors and more light
than most of the rooms in the house. Hermione kept to her word and only did a short trim. Ron,
possibly for the sole purpose of annoying Hermione, sat on her bed and watched the entire time,
occasionally making comments to throw her off. Harry did not know where his friend got the guts;
the thought of angering Hermione as she held a sharp metal object did not seem like a good
idea.

“Okay,” Hermione said at last, “I'm done! Let me just get this excess hair off your neck,
here, Harry…” She proceeded to begin gently blowing on his neck.

Harry tilted his head a bit, shifting slightly as Hermione's breath continued to brush
across his neck. She probably did not even realize that she was doing it, but Ron grinned, knowing
the plight that Harry was in.

“Hey Ron?” Harry asked through clenched teeth.

“Yes Harry?” Ron asked innocently.

“Could you go away please?”

Ron shook his head, “No, I'm perfectly fine here, thanks.”

Harry glared at him, then smiled evilly. *Fine*, he thought to himself, *if he wants to
play dirty…* Without a second thought Harry stood and met his lips with Hermione's
hungrily.

“Bloody hell! You bloody prick…” Ron fled from the room.

Hermione reluctantly severed contact with Harry and he pushed her against the wall. “We should
go after him. He's probably mad. Harry, why did you…”

Harry stopped her with his tongue, which seemed to work perfectly. He smiled, “He deserved it,
trust me.”

Hermione smiled back, her eyes dancing, “Well, if you say so…”

~*~

A/N: I am eternally sorry. As always, I did try to get this out ASAP, but, as I'm sure all
of you know, sometimes life just doesn't cooperate. Thanks to Lady Starlight for her awesome
beta skills!

-->



12. Truly Unique
----------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: Do not own the rights to Harry Potter. Or Care Bears, for that matter.

Author's Note: Enjoy!

~*~

Chapter 12: Truly Unique

~*~

The rest of the day passed by with little event. Ron, possibly out of fear of receiving another
show like the one from earlier, stayed secluded in his bedroom. After eating dinner, Hermione and
Harry went to the up to Harry's bedroom, Hermione stopping to change her clothes on the way.
Together they sat on the couch in front of the fire.

“So Ron and I had an interesting discussion earlier,” Harry started.

Hermione shifted and rested her head on his shoulder, taking his hand in hers and they looked up
at the ceiling. “Oh? What about?” she asked with curiosity.

“You,” Harry replied honestly.

Stiffening slightly, Hermione looked up at him, “That can't be good.”

“It was nothing bad, I suppose,” Harry continued, feeling a bit like he was fibbing, “He was
just telling me about something you two discussed during patrols fifth year.”

“Oh,” Hermione said and Harry instantly knew that they were on the same page, “That.”

Harry could tell that she was uncomfortable and desperately wanted to back off, but at the same
time needed to know, “Is it true?”

Sitting up and facing him, Hermione bit her lip with a blank expression in her face. She then
leaned slightly closer to Harry, staring at her fingers as they ran robotically through his hair,
“What would you do if it was?”

Unprepared for the question, Harry had to think for a moment, “Nothing, I guess.”

Hermione opened her mouth and almost immediately closed it, hesitating a bit, “You wouldn't
leave me?”

“What?” Harry asked, sitting straight up, “Do you really think I would leave you?” He placed his
hand on her cheek.

Her face grew red as she settled her face into him palm, “I don't know what to think. About
any of this.”

“What do you mean?”

Hermione moved Harry's hand from her cheek and held it in her lap as she spoke, “It's
just that, when I told Ron that, the man I would be with didn't exist in my head outside of a
shadow. I had not even considered that it could be you.”

Harry attempted to swallow as is mouth grew dry, “And now?”

Letting out a shaky breath, Hermione continued, “And now there's a whole lot of variables
that I didn't even know existed at the time.”

“Such as?” Harry asked, feeling clueless.

“Such as the fact that we could die and that it is constantly hanging over our heads, even if we
don't speak about it most of the time. We will fight as long and hard as we have to if that is
what it takes to finish it, but the risks are all there. You have seen Moody's picture of the
old Order of the Phoenix. That could be us. With that in mind, I know that there is a chance of
never being able to marry, which screws with my great plan a bit,” she laughed sourly, wiping a
tear from her cheek.

Hermione smiled at Harry, “And then there's you.”

“Me?” Harry questioned, surprised.

Hermione nodded and blushed a little, “Whenever we're together now, it just seems like I
can't get enough. There's no overdosing with you,” Harry grinned inwardly, “Also, outside
of that, the whole reason I made my plan was to keep myself from ever going through with it with a
man who I wouldn't spend my life with. I'm not worried about that with you.”

“Really?” Harry was smiling now.

“Yeah,” Hermione said, “Like it or not, you're stuck with me.”

Harry's smile spread from ear to ear as he knocked her over on the couch and pinned her
down. “I could think of worse things,” he said as he began kissing her.

They were setting new records for time spent without oxygen when a knock sounded at the door.
They each hastily sat up, fixing their appearances. “Come in,” Hermione called as she settled back
against Harry's shoulder.

“Hey,” Ron said as he entered and pulled up a chair across from the couch.

“Hey,” Harry replied. “Did you need something?” he asked, trying not to sound irritated.

“Yes, actually,” he responded, turning to Hermione, “Are you going to be moving in here,
then?”

Caught off guard, Hermione stared at him blankly for a moment before shrugging, “I suppose I
will eventually, if Harry doesn't mind.”

“I don't,” Harry pointed out for Ron's benefits and his own.

“How long is eventually?” Ron pressed.

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “Why?”

“He wants your bedroom,” Harry told her.

“Oh.” Harry and Ron watched as she furrowed her brows in thought. “Well then…” she spoke after a
minute, “If we're going to be moving we should do it tomorrow, since we don't know if
we'll be busy on the weekends or not from now on.”

“I hope not,” Ron sighed tiredly. “I suppose we can do it tomorrow, but that probably means I
should be heading to bed. Goodnight.” Hermione stood gave him a hug before he left.

Harry put out the fire and then went and joined Hermione, who had already gotten into bed. She
rested her head on his shoulder, laying a hand on his abdomen, “Harry? About what we were talking
about earlier…”

“Yeah?” Harry asked as he set his glasses on the nightstand.

“I know that some things are different…but I'm still not ready. It's only been about a
day, after all, and it's not that I don't at some point it is just…”

“It's fine Hermione,” Harry said with a smile.

“Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure that we were on the same page.”

“Same page, paragraph, sentence, and word,” Harry replied.

Hermione laughed, “You forgot letter.”

“That's why you're here, to remind me that I forgot it,” Harry told her.

Hermione sighed with content and whispered quietly, “I like this.”

“What? Making jokes and references to books?” Harry grinned.

“Well, yes, those too I suppose. I meant us. I like us.” Hermione yawned and closed her
eyes.

Harry nodded, running his fingers through her curls, “I like us too.”

“This all happened so suddenly. Perhaps we're crazy.”

“Maybe we were just blind and stupid,” Harry pointed out; “Even Rita Skeeter and Viktor Krum saw
it before us.”

“Let's not forget Ron. And Cho Chang,” Hermione added, “Wow, we must have been stupid.”

Hermione yawned again and Harry smiled. “Goodnight, Hermione,” he said, laying a kiss on her
forehead.

She smiled sleepily, “Goodnight.” In less than a minute she was fast asleep. Harry watched
contently as she slumbered, a soft blanket of moonlight illuminating her innocent face. It did not
take long before Harry was asleep as well.

~*~

Hermione sighed. She had left them alone for five minutes. Five minutes, just so she could use
the loo! All they had to do was put Ron's bedding on Hermione's former bed, and what did
they do? She did not really know, but she was quite certain she did not want to as she walked into
the room to see them both wrapped from head to toe in some form of bedding or other. “What on Earth
happened?” she practically shrieked.

Both boys turned to look at her. “Oh, you're done already?” Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “I was using the loo Ron, not going on some great expedition. Now
answer my question.”

Harry looked at her sheepishly and Hermione felt herself going sappy almost instantly. “Well, we
were, er, you see…”

“We were pretending we were trolls!” Ron finished, grinning. “Actually, Harry's the troll.
I'm a giant.”

Before she knew it Hermione was receiving a detailed explanation of the game *Trolls and
Giants*, which mainly involved the Ron and Harry wrestling through the thick padding of sheets
and comforters. Try as she might, the two did not want to get back on the task of moving,
practically insisting on acting half their age, so she soon found herself the princess of all
trolls. Harry, of course, had to get past the giant in order to rescue her.

The rest of the day went by rather similarly, and it was a wonder that they ever managed to move
everything. Around dinnertime, Hermione asked the guys if they would like to come with her to
Diagon Alley, since she wanted to by a few things for Harry's and her room. Obviously having
nothing better to, they accompanied her.

Two hours later, Hermione was satisfied with the few things she purchased (well, Harry purchased
them because he wanted to and Hermione found it pointless to argue) and Harry and Ron were trudging
behind her. Hermione was just about to tell them that she was finished when Harry perked up.

“What is it?” Hermione asked as he stared blankly at something in the distance.

After a moment, Harry blinked and looked back at her. “What? Oh, I don't know. I just had a
strange feeling.”

Hermione wanted to press the issue, but that seemed to be the extent of Harry's knowledge.
“Are you ready to go home?” she asked.

Harry nodded, turning to Ron for confirmation. Ron shrugged, “Actually I just remembered
something that I was going to do. You two can go on home, I'll see you in the morning.”

“Okay,” Hermione replied, shrugging, “Goodnight.” She gave him a quick hug, took Harry's
hand and together they Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

Both tired from the moving and shopping, they each changed into their pajamas. (Hermione went
into the bathroom, despite Harry's partially fake protests.) Hermione came and joined Harry in
the bed and after a few quick kisses and utterances of sweet dreams, both were fast asleep.

~*~

The next morning came all too soon, in Harry's opinion. As he blinked at the clock on his
bed stand, his mind registered that he should start getting ready for Gretta's lesson.
Practically dragging his feet across the room and opened his bathroom door. It was not until after
he had kissed her good morning that Harry noticed how utterly…organized his bathroom had become
over night. Trying to cope with it and going about his business (despite the fact that he
couldn't find anything) he showered and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He was going
to brush his teeth when finally it pushed him too far.

“Hermione!” he yelled as he looked throughout the house. “Hermione?” He tried to stay calm,
knowing she probably had good intentions.

“Is everything okay?” Hermione asked, concerned.

Harry shook his head it feverishly, “No! I woke up this morning, everything was fine, and then I
found out that the bathroom is different!” Harry explained.

“What did you do?” Ron asked Hermione.

“I *cleaned* it,” Hermione replied, looking at Harry, “What's making you so mad about
this?”

Harry sighed, turning to Ron, “Could you give us a moment, Ron?” Ron nodded and left. He faced
back to Hermione, “You moved everything.”

“I was just trying to make it nicer.”

“I can't find my toothbrush.” Harry pressed.

“That's because I threw out the old one and bought you a new one.” Hermione replied,
shrugging.

“You threw out my toothbrush?”

Hermione smiled at him, as if he was kidding, “Yes, Harry. That thing was so old I'm willing
to bet that it wasn't cleaning your teeth anymore. Honestly, what's up with you?”

Harry sighed, trying to relay to her that he was not joking, “You can't reorganize my
bathroom and throw out my things without telling me.”

“But,” Hermione looked at him, confused, “It's *our* bathroom now. I thought you'd
thank me for the changes I made.”

“Why?” Harry said, a bit harsher than he intended to, “I don't know where anything is and
you threw out my toothbrush.”

Hermione simply stared at him as if he was quite possibly the densest git to ever walk this
planet, and then glanced at her watch. “You should go finish getting ready. Gretta will be here in
fifteen minutes.” With that, she turned and headed towards the kitchen. Harry knew that this was
not over, but decided to give her some space for the time being.

When he headed into the kitchen, setting his papers for Gretta on the table, Harry noticed that
Hermione was not there with Ron. They had established a custom of sitting and discussing the day in
the morning so this disturbed Harry a bit, but did not surprise him. He sighed as he grabbed a
muffin.

“Still having hangover anger from your argument from Hermione?” Ron asked with slight
amusement.

Harry shrugged, “It wasn't so much an argument, but I think I may have said something
stupid.”

Ron nodded sympathetically, “You probably did. Since we have Gretta this morning and Moody this
afternoon, you should probably talk to her after dinner.”

Harry followed Ron upstairs, shortly followed by the arrival of Gretta. She led them into the
living room and they all sat, Hermione moving so Ron had to sit between the two of them.

Gretta read over all of their writing in silence, occasionally asking Harry or Ron to clarify a
particularly untidy scroll of letters. After what seemed to be a long time, she sighed happily and
set the stack down. “I must say, you three did much better than I expected. You all made very
astute observations about yourselves as well as your powers. Each of you did a great deal of
reflection on the events in your life which really impressed me.”

“So did any of us get it?” Hermione asked.

Gretta smiled sympathetically and shook her head, “But that's okay. In all honesty, I did
not expect you to. I was misleading when I told you to find something unique about you and you
alone, as was intentional. I really wanted you three to look inside yourselves, and though it does
not necessarily apply directly to my lessons with you, I think that you will realize that the way
you are in touch with your own characteristics will help you in many things you do.

“That said,” she went on, “All three of you touched on it. Right at the very beginning.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

Gretta smiled again, “The thing that is truly unique about each one of you is your relationship
to each other.”

“Each other?” Ron asked, “But how does that apply to us and us alone?”

“Excellent question, Ron,” Gretta told him, “You see, it's actually quite simple. Ron, no
one else in the entire world shares the same relationship you have with Harry and Hermione. The
same applies to the two of you as well. The reason that I want to point this out is because that
work I will be doing with you in the coming weeks will be in direct relation to the Triptych and
the powers it holds together with the bond that the three of you share. It is going to become
increasingly necessary for you to understand this bond and its presence all of the time as we go
further on.”

“Which leads me to your assignment this week,” she grinned at their disappointed faces, “I know
you want to learn more practical uses, but a great deal of the magic that lies within the Triptych
is internal, so we need to acknowledge that before moving on to anything else. I want you to do
something very similar to last week, which means you will simply be writing in an unabridged
fashion. I want you to each write about the relationships that you share with the other two of you.
You can make charts, drawings, etcetera. You can draw on memories, experiences, and write what you
know about them from their favorite color to their worst fear. You can explain what you think makes
you click with one another, and what you feel around them. Feel free to compare. The most important
of this exercise is that you be completely honest. Any questions?”

The three of them shook their heads. Gretta bid them goodbye and Apparated out. The three of
them ate a quiet lunch, finishing just as Moody showed up.

The lesson was much like the previous one. Harry sat in a corner, clearing his mind or trying
to, anyway. Thoughts of Hermione and their argument distracted him. Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione
worked on Ron's powers. Just as Harry was beginning to doze off, the lesson was over and Moody
was leaving. According to him, Ron was making improvement, whatever that meant. Harry stretched his
cramped legs as they headed to the kitchen. After eating, he stood and held out his hand to
Hermione. Hermione looked at him questioningly. “We should talk,” he said quietly.

Hermione placed her hand in his, immediately making him feel better. Together they walked up to
his room. Harry sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, and pulled Hermione up to him, her
side to his chest so they could look at each other as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I'll be honest,” Harry started, “I really don't understand this whole thing.”

Hermione exhaled softly as she let her head sit in the crook of his neck, “It's just that,
this is my room, too, now. I was not trying to make you mad, so it hurt a bit that you got so upset
over a toothbrush.

Harry nodded, running his finger through her hair, “I used the one you bought. It is really a
nice toothbrush and it was nice of you to get it for me. I'm sorry though, I don't the
difference between me calling it my room and calling it our room.”

“Let me see if I can explain,” Hermione said slowly, “In my head, if it is your room, that means
I am just a guest. If it is our room, that means that we are partners and equal.”

Harry thought that he was beginning to comprehend, but sensed something else. “Is there a
possibility that this is about more than just the bathroom?”

Hermione shrugged, “Maybe,” she paused for a moment, “I guess that I'm just a bit worried
that you still only think of me as your best friend.”

“Why would you think that?” Harry asked, smiling just barely, “I hardly kiss Ron.”

“Well that's just it. I think that in your head you still think of me as your best friend,
we just kiss now. I'm not simply your best friend anymore, Harry.”

Harry sighed, realizing that he had occasionally thought like that, “Okay, I've had a few
slip ups. I apologize.” He gave her a kiss on the temple.

Hermione nodded, closing her eyes. “I'm sorry I moved everything around and threw out your
toothbrush without talking to you first. I really was not thinking about how it would make you
feel. It should have occurred to me that you would not like it.”

“It's fine. At least you didn't make the entire bathroom pink.”

Hermione scrunched her face up in a way that Harry found rather adorable, “I don't think you
have to worry about me turning everything pink, Harry.”

Harry laughed, giving her a chaste kiss on the nose, “Well that's good, because I would be
hardly comfortable in a room representing Care Bear throw up.”

Hermione giggled before sighing after a moment, “I suppose that being a couple isn't all
happily ever after.”

“It's not so bad,” Harry shrugged, “If all of our arguments are like this one I think
we'll be able to handle it. We can figure things out as we go along.”

“Speaking of figuring things out,” Hermione said, “What are we going to do about Gretta's
assignment? She said that it's important for us to be honest.”

“I suppose we should be honest, then. It's not like she's going to tell the Daily
Prophet or anything.” Harry pointed out.

“Yeah, plus McGonagall trusts her. And, she may even already know. Didn't McGonagall say
that she's a Seer?”

“Yes she did. I wonder what she'd see, though.” They shared a look. Hermione grinned as
Harry began placing kisses on her neck.

“Hopefully she can find some way to tune things out,” was the last thing Hermione said before
she was lost in Harry lips.

~*~

The rest of the week practically flew by. In their practical lessons with Lupin or Tonks (or
both of them at the same time) all three of them were improving greatly in traditional magic
skills. The Triptych powers were still a bit of a mystery, having some kind of unknown trigger. On
Thursday, there was another rather irritating lesson where that stupid damned chair (repaired by
Tonks) refused to levitate as Hermione wanted. When Remus showed up Tonks called a five-minute
break and they and Ron went downstairs to get a few drinks. Hermione stood in the center of the
attic, staring at the chair.

Harry smiled sadly at her, “I think that thing hates you.”

Hermione gritted her teeth. “I refuse to let an object made of wood defeat me. Why is this so
hard?”

Hermione watched as an idea seemed to dawn on Harry as he strode toward her. “Do you want to
levitate that chair?” he asked when he stood in front of her.

She blinked, “Of course I do. What are you getting at?”

Harry said nothing, but simply leaned forward and gave her the most mind-blowing kiss ever,
tongues tangling, hearts racing. When he finally drew back for oxygen, Harry grinned at her, “Then
levitate it.”

“I…uh…okay…” Hermione turned to the chair in a bit of a daze to realize that it was already in
the air.

After staring in shock for a few moments, Hermione let out an excited yelp as she jumped into
Harry's arms. Harry smiled, “Told you that you could do it.”

Hermione merely smiled and kissed him again, “I can't believe it. How did you know that
would work?”

“Probably that Potter ego. Gets it from James,” a low voice said from the doorway. They looked
over to see Tonks and Remus grinning with amazement as Ron stuffed his fist in his mouth to contain
his laughter. “May I ask when this happened?”

Harry set Hermione on the floor. “Last Friday?” he answered, looking at the cracks on the
floor.

Tonks smiled at Remus and held out her hand, “You owe me five Sickles.”

Remus sighed and handed the currency to her, “Bloody hell. You're good.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

Tonks laughed, “I said that it'd happen this summer. He said it would take longer, since
Harry's dense and all.”

“You had a bet going on us?” Harry exclaimed. Tonks and Remus merely shrugged, not even
bothering to have the decency of being ashamed.

Ron walked in and stared at the chair that continued to hover in mid-air. Ron walked in and
stared at the chair that continued to hover in mid-air. Ron stared at it for a few moments, the
rest of the room watching him as he turned to Hermione. “Are you telling me that just because Harry
kissed you, you were able to lift this bloody thing?” he asked her.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded, “Yes, that's pretty much it. What made you think that'd
work?” she asked Harry.

Harry shrugged, “I don't know. I just remember when you lit the fire in my room Friday
night, just before Ron came in. You just knew that you had to do it, but you weren't really
focusing because I suppose you were thinking of me then.”

“I see what you were saying about the ego,” Tonks commented, causing Remus to chuckle. “Try and
do it again, Hermione, without Potter smooching on ya!”

Hermione shrugged. She faced the chair and concentrated on it, lowering it back down to the
floor. Hermione was about to try to lift it again when Tonks held up a hand to stop her.

“Slow down. I do not want to jinx this. Okay, I am going to spend tomorrow working with you and
Harry to see if we can figure out exactly what the hell is going on here. Ron, you get the day off.
Sleep in, pig out, wank, whatever makes you happy.”

“Hey!” Ron exclaimed as Harry and Hermione laughed hysterically. After a moment he huffed and
crossed his arms, staring at Harry and Hermione in annoyance.

Hermione only giggled, turning and whispering in Harry's ear, “I suppose we should practice
then. Want to be excellent pupils.”

This was a pleasing idea to Harry, indeed. “Okay, well, we'll be heading off then. See you
all later!” Taking Hermione's hand, they practically ran out of the room.

Ron sat on the floor and sighed as Tonks and Remus Disapparated. “Well, my appetite has
sufficiently been ruined.”

Ron spent Friday in Diagon Alley, not coming back on until late that evening. Hermione and Harry
worked with Tonks again (Remus came by a few times) as they tried to place their fingers on an
exact trigger. While they definitely made a lot of progress (most certainly in Harry's opinion)
they failed to figure out the exact cause by the end of the day. After an hour or so of sparring,
Tonks let them go.

Harry and Hermione were both fast asleep before they knew it, and as Harry woke Saturday morning
the first thing he saw was Hermione's glowing face.

“Well this is a pleasant thing to wake up to,” Harry commented.

Hermione smiled and held up an envelope, “Happy Birthday, Harry.”

~*~

A/N: I was busy, my beta was a bit busy, and I needed to do a couple of rewrites. That said, I,
as always, got this out ASAP, so I hope you enjoyed. The next chapter may take a bit longer
(according to my outline it will be a rather large chapter). As always, your patience (and reviews)
are greatly appreciated. Much thanks to Lady Starlight for helping me make this chapter (and this
story) much better for all of you than it would be otherwise. :)

-->



13. Birthday Surprises
----------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

Author: Vickles

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the rights to them, and I must admit that I have
a bit of a writing affair going on with them. I keep begging them to leave JKR for me, but they get
somewhat touchy, saying that “she created them” and other similar things. I know the truth, though…
it's all about the money! They wont leave her for me because she's wealthy, that's all
there is to it!

A/N: Sorry it took so long, please enjoy!

~*~

Chapter 13: Birthday Surprises

~*~

“Birthday?” Harry asked as he sat up and stretched his arms, giving Hermione a quick peck on the
lips.

Hermione tilted her head, a bit surprised, “Harry, are you telling me that you forgot today was
your birthday?”

Harry shrugged as he pulled on his glasses, “I knew it was coming soon, but I thought I had
another week or so yet. What's in the envelope?” he asked, motioning to what she held in her
hand.

Hermione looked down at the envelope and then back at him. “Do you remember at the beginning of
the summer when your aunt wanted to speak to me and I could not tell you what it was about?”

Harry nodded slowly, “Yes…” Though he had tried not to think much about the occasion in the past
month it had remained steadfast in the back of his mind. “Did she give you this then?”

“Mhmm. And this,” Hermione added, pulling a small parcel out of her bathrobe pocket. “Dumbledore
gave them to her to hold last year, saying that you weren't allowed to have them until your
seventeenth birthday, which is why she gave them to me. You're supposed to read the letter
first. Do you want to me leave and give you a moment?”

Harry took a moment to absorb the information as he stared at the parcel and envelope, which he
now realized bore Professor Dumbledore's untidy scroll. He blinked and looked up at her,
shaking himself out of his daze, “No, you can stay. I suppose I should look at it now, then?” he
asked.

“You don't have to if you don't want to. I would understand perfectly,” Hermione
reassured him.

“No, I want to. Can I see the envelope?” He held out his hand and Hermione placed the envelope
in it. As soon as the paper touched his skin, the envelope opened and the letter slid out, landing
in Harry's other hand. Harry smiled, “Dumbledore did have style…”

Harry looked at the letter, surprised at how short it was, and read silently.

*Harry,*

*I must apologize that I am not there to tell you these words in person. However, I know what
fate shall be put upon me all too soon (the same fate that awaits all of us at one point or
another, do not forget) and I am eternally sorry to those I shall soon be leaving behind. That
said, it is not the purpose of the letter so I shall not speak of it until you receive your gift,
which I hope you enjoy. Go ahead and open it.*

The rest of the page was blank, so Harry turned to Hermione and asked for the parcel, no larger
than ten centimeters cubed. He opened it up to find an ornamental motorcycle.

Hermione gasped, “Is that…”

“Is it what?” Harry asked.

“Look,” Hermione said, pointing at the letter, “There's more.”

Harry looked and Hermione was in fact correct. More of Dumbledore's writing had appeared on
the letter.

*If Miss Granger is in the room, I am more than certain that she has already figured out what
this is. If you haven't however, I am pleased to tell you that in your hand you are holding
Sirius' motorcycle, though shrunk down considerably so as not to alarm your relatives by the
sheer size of it. A simple charm can get it back to normal size.*

*It is all I have to give you other that the room that I currently have Dobby working on. Use
it wisely, and feel free to have some fun. Never forget, that in times of great darkness and
stress, sometimes life's simplest pleasures can put that smile back on our face.*

*Before I end this letter, there is one last thing I must ask of you Harry (for we both know
not enough was asked of you in my lifetime…). Should Severus Snape or Draco Malfoy ever come to you
in need of aide, give it to them. There are things that you do not know now that may soon come to
light. If you can get a hold on them, do not let them go, for they will help you in the
end.*

*I fear that I have dampened that happiness of the gift I have given you, do enjoy it. Happy
Birthday, Harry, for this one as well as all of the ones to come.*

*With love and sincerity,
Professor Albus Dumbledore*

*P.S. When you can, do remind Tonks and Remus that I have not forgotten our bet.*

Harry looked up at Hermione, who had been reading over his shoulder. “Do you think I should
listen to him?”

“About which part?” Hermione asked.

“The part about Snape and Malfoy.”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders just barely. “I think it's clear that he knew he was going
to die, and obviously at the hands of one of them by the sounds of it, which does go along with
what you've told me about that night. He makes it pretty clear that he knows other things as
well.”

Harry nodded, biting his lip.

Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, Hermione smiled and spoke again, “You don't have to
worry about it right now. He didn't ask you to go looking for them, just that you'd help
them if they came looking for you. How about we go get some lunch and decide on what you want to do
for your birthday?” She grinned and began placing kisses along his collarbone and neckline.

Harry smiled, setting Dumbledore's letter and gift (a wonderful gift, indeed) on his table.
“Well, we could go get lunch, or we could just stay here…” He was all for his idea, too, but then
his stomach growled, causing Hermione to giggle and stop her heavenly kisses as she stood and took
his hand, pulling him up with her.

“I'll go dress and get ready in the bathroom, and you go ahead and get changed out here,”
Hermione told him, tossing a set of already picked out clothes as she walked to the bathroom with
her own bundle.

Harry sighed as she closed the door behind her. He walked over and sat on the bed, holding the
miniature motorcycle in his hand. It really was a great present for Dumbledore to give him, almost
like two gifts in one, really. Harry looked closely at the object, noticing that it held seats for
two people. Definitely a good idea, Harry thought to himself before he realized that Hermione would
hardly go flying with him, so his only company would be Ron. Still, it was as if the present had
come from Sirius and Dumbledore. Now all he needed was a present from…

Harry set the motorcycle back on the table and changed his clothes, shaking off the sad thoughts
on what was supposed to be a happy day. He had just pulled off his shirt and was about to pull on
another one when Hermione walked out in jeans and a t-shirt and her hair pulled up in a clip.

Hermione came over as Harry was about to put on the fresh shirt, but Hermione stopped him,
smirking. “You could just go without it, you know.”

Harry laughed, “I hardly think Ron would enjoy that and you never know who might decide to stop
by, since McGonagall said she's been working on getting the Order back into swing. Besides,
what happened to taking things slow?”

Hermione shrugged and placed a hand on his sternum, smiling innocently, “Just because a girl
doesn't want to make the purchase yet doesn't mean she can't admire the merchandise.”
She stood on her toes and kissed him.

“Merchandise?” Harry grinned, wrapping his arms around her waist, “Is that what I am to
you?”

“Mm-hmm…” Hermione answered, tracing mindless shapes along his biceps, “That's it.” She
looked up and him with curiosity, “What are you doing still changing anyway? I was in the bathroom
for at least ten minutes.”

Harry bit his lip, “I was just thinking.”

“About what?” Hermione asked, though she seemed to know already.

“Just about Dumbledore. And Sirius. And my parents.”

Hermione nodded sympathetically as Harry let go of her to pull his shirt on, then took her hand
again as they left the room. “You miss them a little more right now, don't you?”

“Yeah. Do you think we could go to Godric's Hollow today or tomorrow?” Harry asked as they
walked down a flight of stairs.

“If that's what you want, we can go as soon as we get a chance. But first, let's get
that stomach of yours to quit growling.” She let go of his hand as they entered the kitchen.

Harry's brain was just registering that the kitchen seemed awfully crowded when suddenly a
great yell of “Surprise!” nearly sent him back into Hermione. He blinked a couple of times to see
all of his trainers, excluding Gretta, the entire Weasley family (including Fleur), Hagrid, and
even Neville and Luna happily greeting him. As the shocked wore off, Harry found himself begin torn
away from Hermione as he was sent around the room, receiving hugs from nearly everyone. Tonks made
a point of complaining about the lack of an actual birthday suit as Remus tactfully distracted Mrs.
Weasley, who was standing nearby, asking her if she would like some punch, the color of which very
much resembled Harry and Hermione's faces.

Soon they all settled down around the additional tables, enjoying the pizza that Dobby had
cooked up. Harry enjoyed his spot between Ron and Hermione, with Neville, Luna, Ginny and the twins
sitting with them as well. Ginny and Hermione had gotten up at one point to put away their dishes,
Ginny taking Hermione's seat next to Harry as she sat back down. When Hermione walked up and
asked why Ginny had moved, Ginny, clearly surprised by Hermione's questioning, simply told her
that she hadn't meant to and immediately moved back to her seat. Hermione smiled and sat back
next to Harry. Harry, not failing to notice the interaction, took Hermione's hand under the
table and squeezed it gently, careful not to act anything other than interested in the conversation
he was having with Neville and Ron.

“Say, Harry, how about you open up your presents?” Fred asked as they finished up their
food.

Harry shrugged and followed everyone into the living room. He took a seat in the middle of the
small couch next to Hermione, the rest of his friends on the other one.

The presents were better than anything Harry could have thought to ask for. There was an
assortment of gifts relating to Quidditch and flying which he enjoyed immensely. Tonks and Remus
gave him a Dueling Board; which was designed to be hung up on a wall, sending various curses and
jinxes, ranging in danger and difficulty at the person practicing with it. Hermione was fascinated
with it, telling Harry that she would like to watch as he practiced with it.

Harry finally got down to Hermione's gift, one that he had been intentionally saving for
last. Hermione handed the rectangular box to him carefully, keeping it upright. Harry tore off the
paper and removed the lid, pulling out what resembled a clear glass perfume bottle, full of pink
liquid and held shut with a cork. Harry looked up at Hermione to see her smiling with anticipation.
“What is it?” he asked curiously.

“It's a potion,” Hermione told him, “I've been working on it since just before last
Christmas. It's designed to protect you from basic curses and jinxes for 48 hours. It took
awhile, but I've also adapted it to only react to your specific DNA, so even if someone else
gets a hold of it they won't be able to use it.” Harry looked at her in shock, unable to speak,
and Hermione took it the wrong way, rambling on, “I know it's not great, but I thought it could
be useful for you to use, and I completely forgot to give you a card, I know…”

Harry cut her off, “It's a great gift. Thank you.” He gave her a friendly hug, though he
desperately longed to give her more to show his gratitude.

Hermione smiled, relieved, “I'll go get you your birthday cake. Ron keeps looking at the
stairwell like a starving puppy.”

Harry got up, “I'll help.”

“Nonsense!” Mrs. Weasley called from across the room, “It's your birthday, Harry!
Relax!”

Ron came to Harry's rescue, “Aw, just let him, Mum. It's his nature to constantly stress
himself out. If he ever started relaxing he'd have nothing to complain about.” The room laughed
good-naturedly as Harry followed Hermione down the stairs into the kitchen.

Checking to make sure that the door was closed and no one had followed him, Harry pressed
Hermione against the ice box, kissing her with everything he had in him. His tongue danced with
hers and he felt her grin. “So does this mean you like the present?”

Harry smiled and kissed her on the forehead, and then her nose, and her cheeks, cradling her
face in his hands, “Only you could spend months making something just to protect me and then say
it's not that great.”

Hermione shrugged, “Ginny's gift was better.”

Harry rolled his eyes and kissed her again, “You're absolutely right, hon. Why on Earth
would I be pleased with an innovative potion that even Snape would envy when I could have
cologne?”

She giggled as he wrapped his arms around her, “First Ron gives me perfume and then Ginny gives
you cologne. Do you think there's something that they are trying to tell us?”

Harry pretended to be shocked, “By Merlin, I think you're right!”

Hermione laughed and gently moved away from Harry, “We should get back up there before anyone
gets suspicious.” She pulled the large cake out of the ice box, candles already in place. Harry
grabbed the knife and paper plates and held open the door open for her as she carried it up the
stairs back to the living room.

When they arrived, Harry noticed that Ginny and Ron were nowhere to be seen. “Where'd they
go?” he asked the rest of the room, motioning to their vacant seats.

George shrugged, “Ron had to talk to Ginny about something.”

“When he knew that cake was coming?” Hermione asked, shocked. “Surely you are joking.” Just
then, the brother and sister came back in, Ginny looking suitably irritated. Ron sent Harry a
glance that clearly meant he would talk to him about it later, so Harry shrugged and moved back to
his seat next to Hermione, who was lighting the candles.

They sang the birthday song (an unusual thing for Harry, he realized) and he blew out the
candles and the guests mingled as they ate their cake. Just as people began leaving, Bill gathered
everyone's attention.

“Just before you all start leaving,” he smiled, “Fleur and I have an announcement to make.”

Fleur beamed at Bill, then turned to everyone's expectant faces, “Vee are going to haff a
baby!”

Their was a collective gasp followed by various happy squeals from the women in the room,
Hermione and Tonks included, which surprised Harry a bit. Everyone gathered and gave the happy
couple congratulatory words before bidding each other farewell. Before Harry knew it the house was
back to its usual empty self, excluding himself, Ron, and Hermione.

After a few cleaning charms performed by Hermione and Dobby, everything was back in place. Harry
looked down at his watch to see that it was already six o'clock in the evening. Hermione walked
over and wrapped her arms around him and he let himself melt into her embraced, the stress from
being around so many people ebbing away as his thoughts revolved around only her.

Ron walked in, having left to get a drink, and cleared his throat after a moment. “Harry? Could
I talk to you for a few moments?”

Hermione smiled and gave Harry a quick peck on the lips, “I'm going to go take a bath. Will
you come up when you're done?” Harry nodded and kissed her softly on the forehead before
letting her leave the room.

Harry sighed and turned to Ron as they sat across form each other on the sofa, “This is about
Ginny, then?”

Ron nodded, “You know how she told you that she was dating Dean?”

“Yeah, but then we saw him at Diagon Alley not too long ago, so we know that's a lie.”

“Exactly,” Ron replied, “But that's not something Ginny usually does. I asked her about it
tonight and she got really defensive before I finally got her to tell me the truth.”

“Which is…” Harry prompted.

“She's still crazy about you,” Ron admitted, “And believe me, I mean crazy in both senses of
the word.”

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the couch, “What do you want me to
do, Ron? I'm with Hermione, now.”

“I know that, and I know that the chances of you two breaking up are about as good as the
chances of Millicent Bulstrode being my soul mate. It's just… no matter what kinds of dumb
things she does, she's still my little sister. I think that you should talk to her. You
don't have to tell her about Hermione if you don't want to; just let her know that she
doesn't have a chance anymore, so she can move on.”

“I'll think about it,” Harry told Ron, thoughts of Hermione in his bathtub fluttering in the
back of his mind. “Is that all?”

Ron shrugged, “Yeah, I guess. You going upstairs?”

Harry nodded, “See you in the morning.” He ascended the stairs and entered his room, quietly
shutting the door behind him. He padded over to the bathroom door and knocked gently. “It's
me,” he told her.

“It's unlocked,” Hermione called softly. Harry turned the doorknob and entered, greeted with
the sight of Hermione beneath a thick layer of frothy bubbles in his rather large bathtub. He
swallowed, his throat dry, and Hermione grinned, motioning with a bubbly arm for him to come over.
Upon closer inspection, Harry noticed that she was wearing what seemed to be a bikini, which both
relieved him and disappointed him a bit. Harry looked at her questioningly, wondering why she would
need to wear anything in the bathtub. “I thought that you might like to join me,” Hermione told
him, answering his unspoken question, “You trunks are on our bed.”

*Our bed*. Harry's mind was suddenly reeling as he nodded and quickly left to change.
As soon as he was, he walked back in to see Hermione resting her head on an inflated pillow, her
eyes closed. Harry closed and locked the door behind him before settling into the hot water across
from her. Hermione's eyes slowly opened and she looked at him in a way that made Harry forget
to breathe for a few seconds, her eyes boring into his soul as she told him everything he could
ever want to hear without uttering a single soft syllable.

Hermione moved to his side of the tub, sitting on his left and resting her head on his chest as
he hesitantly placed his hand on the small of her back, reveling in the feeling of her bare skin.
Hermione turned, straddling him as she began to place kisses on his neck and shoulders and chest
before returning to his lips. Her fingers ran through his hair as his hands roamed her back under
the water, beneath the bubbles. His heart ached with desire as he kissed her neck, her earlobe,
even being so bold as to kiss a few inches below her neck, not far from where the bikini fabric
covered her wet skin. Hermione did not seem to mind as she ran her hands over his chest, kissing
his shoulders. She then wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close, her head resting next
to his, as he continued to place kisses everywhere he could.

“Harry,” she whispered his name in his ear, causing him to pause. He gently pushed her back so
he could look at her properly, and what he saw was Hermione, completely vulnerable and unguarded,
looking at him in a way that she hadn't even on that night up on the roof.

Harry memorized everything in that moment, storing it tightly in the back of his mind to keep
with him forever. He wanted to say something, anything, to let her know what he was feeling, but
lacked appropriate words to describe it justly. As Harry pulled Hermione close, he knew that if
such a thing as soul mates did in fact exist, than surely she was his. He felt Hermione shake just
slightly and looked at her to see tears in her eyes. His brows furrowed with concern, “What's
wrong?”

Hermione simply shook her head and smiled as a few choked sobs escaped from her throat. She
beamed as him through her bloodshot eyes, “I'm just so happy, that's all.” She kissed him
softly on the lips. “There's no where else I would rather be right in this moment.” She turned
and settled back to her original position next to him with her head on his chest.

Harry stroked her hair and smiled, “There's no where else I'd rather be, either.”

Hermione sighed contently, “Happy Birthday, Harry.”

Harry kissed her on her forehead. Happy Birthday, indeed.

~*~

Ron just couldn't bring himself to do it.

He stood watching his friends from the foot of the bed as they slept, stifling the chuckles that
he held in his chest. It was not like the scene he had a seen a few weeks ago when Harry's arms
had been wrapped protectively around Hermione. Harry was still facing Hermione, who faced the door
as she always seemed to, but they were at least two feet apart on the vast bed. Ron assumed that
they must have gotten cold during the chilly night, for Hermione had pulled the entire comforter
around herself in search of warmth, leaving poor Harry with nothing but a thin bed sheet. This
explained why Harry was curled up in a tight position while Hermione seemed very relaxed, making
“sleeping sounds,” as Harry had taken to calling them. Ron preferred to call it light snoring, with
an occasional, rather unattractive, snort, making him pleased with his decision (*okay, it had
been her decision*) not to be with Hermione.

Hermione had told him the day before that Harry wanted to go to Godric's Hollow and to wake
them up by eight thirty if they were not already conscious. He had been standing in the same place,
watching, for fifteen minutes, and still could not bring himself to wake them from their sleep.

Deciding that it would be best to take his mate out of his misery, he grinned and threw a pillow
at Harry's head. Harry blinked as he stirred, sitting up and squinting at Ron with his lack of
glasses. “You,” Harry told him with a yawn, “Are either Ron or a very masculine looking Ginny
Weasley.” He reached over and put on his glasses. “Well, that's a relief, I suppose. You should
get Hermione to cut your hair, too, you know. Even with my glasses on it's hard to tell the
difference.”

Ron crossed his arms, “Quit being a wanker and wake up your girlfriend, then meet me downstairs
for breakfast.”

Harry did as Ron instructed, and thirty minutes later, they met him down for breakfast.

“So Ron, Harry tells me that you're needing a haircut,” Hermione said with a grin as she sat
down at the table.

Ron sent an annoyed glare at Harry, “No, that's quite alright, thank you. And you know,
mate, I'll be sure to tell my sister that she thinks she looks like a flat-chested bloke.”

Harry shrugged as he poured syrup on his pancakes, “Maybe if you did she'd be mad at me and
I wouldn't have to talk to her.”

Hermione looked at the two of them, clueless, “Why do you need to talk to Ginny?”

“She's in love with Harry,” Ron told her simply.

“She is?” Hermione asked Harry, who simply shrugged again.

“Don't ask me, I heard it from Ron.”

“But why would she be in love with you?” Hermione asked.

Harry looked up from his food and swallowed as he stared at Hermione. “Is there something wrong
with me that makes me unlovable?” he asked with his eyebrow raised.

Hermione waved away his question with her hand, “Oh, you know I didn't mean it that way. I
mean, I know that she's always been a bit hung up on you; I simply assumed that after you two
had for fling this past year she would grow out of it. Similar to Ron and I.”

Ron snorted, “We had a fling? Hmph. Must have missed that. I feel rather gypped now. Seems
unfair that they got to have a fling and we didn't.”

“Well, it's a bit late now, Ron,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes, “So what are you going to
tell her, Harry?”

“I have no idea. I suppose I could just tell her about us, but Ginny can be rather vengeful when
she sets her mind to it, and might tell the papers just out of spite, or much worse.” Harry added
as an afterthought.

“I'd go with `much worse,' if I was you mate,” Ron told him, “Ginny's damn near
frightening when she sets her mind to it.” Harry sighed and Hermione rubbed his shoulder
softly.

They finished their breakfast quietly, Hermione giving them the highlights from the Daily
Prophet. As they cleared their dishes, Hermione turned to Harry. “Do you still want to go to
Godric's Hollow?” she asked.

Harry nodded, “Can we go now?”

“Sure, that's why I had Ron get us up earlier.” With that being said, they fetched their
cloaks, Apparating to the same shed as last time and walking to the now familiar house.

Just as they reached the door, Harry paused, turning to Ron and Hermione, “Would it be okay with
you two if I went in alone first? You could come in fifteen minutes from now.”

They nodded and let him go in, going around to the back yard. Ron shivered slightly despite the
warm weather. “What is it?” Hermione asked.

“Just this place,” Ron told her, “The way it's peaceful and pretty and perfect. Merlin, it
must kill Harry to come here, see what could have been his.”

Hermione nodded, looked at the weeping willow that housed the Potter's tombstone. “I'm
going to…well…you know…” she motioned at the tree and Ron nodded.

“Want me to come get you in fifteen minutes if you aren't done?”

“Sure,” Hermione turned and headed through the drooping branches. Once inside the shade,
Hermione looked at the encasement, small beads of light finding a way through the thick dome.
Hesitating slightly, Hermione approached the tombstone, sitting in front of it.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Potter; James and Lily. I'm Hermione, Harry's girlfriend.” Hermione
could not help but smile as she spoke the words. “Don't be offended that he didn't tell you
last time he was he, this is a new development. I hope he told you about me at least a little; that
is, if he said anything at all.

“It's funny, the way that you two exist in our lives. You've almost become these
mythical beings to us. I wonder if you watch us from where you are. Maybe you can't even hear
what I'm saying right now. Just to let you know, I'm not really in the habit of talking to
graves.

“Being with Harry in the way that I am isn't always easy. I haven't told him yet, but I
love him, just like I know he loves me. He isn't ready to say it yet, so I will wait. I
understand that love's a new concept for him.

“There isn't really much I have to say. I just wanted you to know that I will take care of
him. Ron, too. Harry needs that. He has the whole Wizarding World behind him, but never has he had
someone to take care of him since that night.”

Hermione bit her lip, “I suppose I'm lucky, I don't have to worry about meeting my
boyfriend's parents!” She tried to laugh, but failed, “I'm sorry, that was a bad joke. I
think it's about time for me to go join Ron and Harry, so I am just going to go, then.” She got
up, brushed off her jeans, and headed through the branches. Ron stood there waiting, putting a
comforting arm around her shoulders as they headed around the house. Hermione smiled at her friend
and leaned against him. “What would Harry and I ever do without you, Ron?”

Ron simply shrugged and kissed her on the forehead, which required bending a bit since he was so
much taller than her, “You two would be colossally screwed, that's what. And you wouldn't
smile as much,” he added as an afterthought.

Hermione laughed as a single tear rolled down her cheek, “We would definitely smile less.
Don't ever leave us, okay?”

“You've got it. I'll stick around so long that you'll get sick of me.”

Hermione smiled and gave him a hug as they reached the front door.

Harry sat in the middle of his former bedroom, something they had missed during their last
visit, and held a small stuffed panda in his hands. So many blurry pictures, words, memories ran
through his head, but he couldn't remember almost any of them. On the walls were pictures of
him playing, but he could not remember receiving the toys. There were pictures of his parents
dancing with him, but he could not remember how it felt to be held in their arms. Faces smiled from
the figures, but he could not remember smiling during his childhood.

He looked up as Ron and Hermione tentatively entered the room. Ron walked around and looked at
the hanging pictures while Hermione crouched down in front of him, looking at the panda. “What is
that?” she asked curiously and gently.

“His name is Bandit,” Harry told her as he handed her the small bear. “He was my first stuffed
animal.”

Hermione's eyes widened, “Did you remember that?”

“No,” Harry shook his head as he stood and stuffed his hands in his pockets, “I don't
remember any of this. It was in that scrapbook over there.”

Hermione nodded, then stood and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting a head on his
shoulder. “Is it too soon for us to begin looking for clues?” she asked.

Harry shrugged, “We can look. I figured that you'd want to go through the library. Almost
all of the books in there have my mum's notes in the margins or slips of paper stuck inside of
them. Some of it might be useful. While you look in there Ron can look in the office and I can look
in my parents' room.”

“Okay,” Hermione answered and Ron nodded in the agreement. The three of them headed their
separate ways.

Harry got distracted and began reading the book that had been on his mother's nightstand
when Hermione called to him from downstairs. Harry entered the library, where Ron and Hermione were
already waiting for him. “Bloody hell,” he heard Ron say as he looked at the book that Hermione
held in her hands.

“What? What is it?” Harry asked. Did it have something to do with Voldemort? The Horcruxes?

“Close,” Hermione answered and Harry realized that she had been using Legilimency again, but
decided not to distract her. “It's Lily's diary.”

Hermione handed Harry the leather book. As he turned it in his hands he saw a cursive *L*
and *E* etched on the front.

“We know it must be pretty old, since it has her original initials,” Ron said, “I'd reckon
it's one of those enchanted ones that never runs out of room. Ginny's got one, except hers
is kept shut with a lock. This one is kept shut, but we're not exactly sure how to open it. I
mean, there's no hole for a key.”

Harry held it gingerly in his palms before finally handing it back to Hermione. “We can take it
home and maybe one of us will think of something. Did either of you find anything else?” They shook
their heads in response. “I think we should head back, then.” Hermione and Ron both nodded and in
moments they were all back at Grimmauld Place.

“I'm going to go put this somewhere safe,” Hermione said before ascending the stairs. Harry
walked into the living room and sighed as he sat on the couch, closing his eyes.

“What is it?” Ron asked, walking over and sitting in the coffee table in front of him.

“Shouldn't we be doing something?” Harry asked.

Ron shrugged, “Depends what you mean. You're going to have to be a bit more specific.”

“Voldemort,” Harry said and Ron nodded knowingly, as if he had expected this, which Harry
supposed he might have felt it coming or something weird like that. The connection between the
three of them had been getting more unexplainable by the day it seemed. “I mean, we're training
and improving our skills and powers, but what good does it do if we're not out there
*doing* something?”

Ron studied Harry for a moment, “Well, I'm not sure. Maybe we're all a bit hesitant
because we know that once we get this… whatever it is, started, there's no going back. Of
course, I'm assuming that you're about ready to get started if you are asking me this, and
maybe even have an idea rolling around in your head?”

Harry grinned slightly at Ron, who was returning the gesture. “I was thinking that Borgin and
Burkes might be a good place to get started. There seems to be a lot of important dealing that goes
on there, and even if there's no Horcrux that we know of there…I don't know, but there
might be something. What do you think?”

Ron's grin grew to a full-out smirk, “I say let's go.”

“Go where?” Hermione's voice reached their ears as she entered the room, sitting on the
couch and resting a head against Harry's chest as he habitually draped an arm over her
shoulders.

“Borgin and Burkes,” Ron answered.

“Why?” Hermione asked suspiciously, looking at Harry even thought his eyes were closed.

Harry smiled, “We're starting.”

Hermione simply nodded. She stood and looked at them expectantly, “Well then what are we waiting
for? Grab your invisibility cloak and let's go!”

Minutes later they found themselves in front of the store display window. The Boys had let
Hermione use the invisibility cloak while they Disillusioned themselves. “Why is it closed?”
Hermione whispered impatiently.

“Who cares?” Ron asked, “Let's break in. We can get a good look around without the store
owner noticing anything.”

“Good idea,” Harry said sarcastically, “Except for the fact that there's still quite enough
people around that they'd see a store shop opening and no one going through it.”

“Fine,” Ron said. “So much for jumping right into adventure. This was a colossal waste of
time.”

“I'm not so sure,” Hermione said, a bit breathless. Harry's eyes went to Hermione's
shaky finger, just peeking out of the cloak for a second, pointing at the window. “Do either of you
recognize that?” she whispered.

“No,” they whispered in return as they looked at a golden charm bracelet with a single
heart-shaped charm hanging from it. There appeared to be intricate carvings on the heart, but Harry
didn't have much time to study it.

Not wasting a moment, Hermione blindly grabbed each of their arms and Disapparated them. When
Harry opened his eyes, they were in what would have been his sister's room at Godric's
Hollow. “Hermione, why did you bring us here?” Harry asked as he folded up his invisibility
cloak.

“Look!” Hermione exclaimed, pulling them over to the single picture that hung on the walls.
Harry looked at it, watching as what had been his family dance happily around the room at the
thought of a new sibling, a new child.

“Hermione, what am I supposed to see?” Harry asked.

“On her wrist, do you see it?” Harry looked again. This time he saw just what Hermione had seen.
On Lily's arm hung a gold bracelet, exactly like the one from Borgin and Burkes.

~*~

A/N: Ah, yes, I hear your collective words: “Finally! Some action!” (<You people are like
Lady Starlight, then…) or “What? How dare you end the chapter there?” Well, to keep myself alive
(self preservation is usually a good thing, you know) I decided to give you what I have despite the
extensive mulling I spent on this chapter. Please Review. As always, even though I don't reply
to every single review I greatly appreciate every single one, and you all really give me great
ideas, or sometimes just the inspiration I need to finish up the next chapter, so thank you very
much. :)

-->



14. Hermione's Secrets
----------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

Author: Vickles

Disclaimer: I think JKR is suspicious of the affair I share with her characters, but I don't
care. I refuse to quit writing a story that makes them happier than she ever will! *runs off
sobbing*

Rating: PG-13

Author's note: Happy (early) Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans! To all of my readers,
enjoy!

~*~

“But how did your mum's bracelet get to Borgin and Burkes?” Ron asked later as the three of
them sat in front of the crackling fire in Harry's bedroom.

“That's a good question,” Harry responded tiredly, “and one I would definitely like the
answer to. The first thing we need to do is get it back.”

“Great idea. I think the lot of us are starting to feel stifled in this place. We need to get
out,” Ron commented, “So how are we going to do it?”

“Well…” Hermione said in a way that practically made the wheels turning in hear head visible,
“Breaking in during the night and taking it back, which I have a feeling is what you were
thinking,” Ron smirked guiltily, “may not be the best idea. If we decided to disguise ourselves and
purchase it, however…”

“Are you suggesting we buy the bracelet that belongs to my mum?” Harry asked, surprised.

“Well, I did look at the price, and while it is a bit on the expensive side, it's really
nothing we can't afford. And, if we disguise and purchase it, not only do we create aliases to
use at our disposal, but we keep the heat away from ourselves. If word reached Voldemort that the
bracelet were to be stolen, and you know that it very well could and most likely would, he'd
know that we were behind it. I'm all for us starting this adventure, or whatever you want to
call it, but there's no reason for us to reveal all of our playing cards just yet.” Hermione
smiled a little, clearly pleased with her plan.

After a moment of silence, Ron let out a low whistle, “Remind me not to be your enemy, Hermione.
That's genius really, creating aliases.”

“I'm surprised you didn't think of it first, actually, Ron,” Hermione commented.

Harry grinned at her, giving her a kiss on the cheek, “Merlin, we really have corrupted you,
haven't we?”

Ron grinned as well, “I would say so,” he paused and yawned. “What time is it?”

Harry looked down at it watch, “Eleven o'clock! What time is Gretta coming in the morning?”
he asked Hermione.

“She's not. She owled earlier and said she had an appointment tomorrow so we will see her
Wednesday morning. We still have Moody tomorrow afternoon, though, so don't sleep too late, you
two.”

“Yes ma'am,” Ron smiled as he saluted her and stood, “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Ron,” Harry and Hermione replied as Ron let himself out. Harry stood and walked over
to the bed, settling in under the comforter. Hermione put the fire out and followed suit, relaxing
in next to him. Sleep did not come quickly, however. Feeling that Harry was still wide-awake,
Hermione turned to him, propping herself up on her elbow. “What is it?” she asked, gently running a
hand through his hair.

Harry opened his eyes, turning and mimicking Hermione's position. “Do you think it's
possible that my mother practiced Dark Magic?”

Hermione sighed lightly, “I thought that might be troubling you.”

“What do you think about it?” Harry asked.

Hermione bit her lip, “Honestly, from what I've heard and learned of your mum and what
I've seen in that house I don't think it's possible. Then again, I know how much she
loved you, and we know that she may have known what would happen. Maybe there's something about
that bracelet that helped save you that night, and maybe your mother loved you so much that she was
willing to do anything, including use Dark Magic, to save you. There are two things we'll need
in order to find that out, though.”

“Which would be…” Harry prompted.

“That bracelet and access to the inside of your mother's diary.”

~*~

The next morning was spent planning for the evening's expedition, which would begin after
Moody's lesson. Ron and Harry worked with Harry's Dueling Board in the attic, brushing up
on their basic dueling skills in case of emergency, also sparring with each other a bit. Meanwhile,
Hermione meticulously designed every aspect of their disguises.

After a hearty lunch, they gathered in the attic with Moody. As Harry and Hermione worked
together on their powers in one corner, Ron and Moody worked on channeling Ron's emotions in
another. When a few hours had passed Moody called it a day and the three teens anxiously ran
downstairs.

“Take these,” Hermione told Ron and Harry once they were inside the kitchen, handing them each a
pin with two wands crossing each other and a standard skull in the middle. “They basically contain
a blueprint of what we will look like. They also are part of our aliases. We will wear them on our
cloaks in Knockturn Alley to keep our appearances even when the spell wears off. When we are ready,
we'll each say this incantation,” she handed them the written incantation on a small piece of
parchment.

“Why couldn't we have done this second year instead of using Polyjuice?” Ron asked, making a
face.

“Well, Polyjuice is meant to aide in the impersonation of someone, so this is a bit different.
Also,” Hermione blushed, “this technique wasn't created yet.”

Harry smiled a little, “What do you mean?”

Hermione fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable, “Well, I've just been doing some experiments and
research over the past two years when I've had spare time. This is one of my more successful
results.”

“How on Earth did you have spare time?” Ron asked, clearly shocked.

Hermione shrugged, “I don't have Quidditch or detention most of the time, for that matter.
It also doesn't take me as long to finish my homework.”

Harry and Ron simply looked at her for a moment in disbelief before returning to the task at
hand. After uttering the incantation they each attached their pins to their cloaks. The three of
them were all rather plain-looking, sure not to stand out, and bore a resemblance similar to that
of siblings. Ron and Harry were each pale with brown wavy hair and seemed to have aged a few years,
Harry appearing the oldest. Hermione was her same age and slightly darker with dark blond hair that
fell straight down her back. All three of them shared similar green-brown eyes.

“Well,” Ron said, “This is interesting, I'd say. Would you mind telling us who we are,
Hermione?”

“Right,” Hermione replied, “Harry, you are…”

“Joseph Brill,” Harry said, shaking the unfamiliar clerk's outstretched hand, “And this is
my brother Greg, as well as our sister, Linda.” Harry would hardly recognize his voice without the
action, which Hermione had done with a simple masquerade charm they had learned sixth year. Harry
brushed his cloak where his pin was attached, drawing the clerk's attention to it.

*“Some supporters of Voldemort wear them,”* Hermione had told them earlier, *“Mostly
wealthy families that are deeply rooted in the Dark Arts in general. It is less obvious than a Dark
Mark, which we would not have, being Yanks and all. With these pins he'll know we're
wealthy, and more inclined to be courteous for the sake of profiting.”*

The clerk noticed the pin and smiled at his customers. “And may I ask what you are interested in
purchasing today?”

“Actually,” Harry smiled, “We were interested in buying that bracelet there in your store
window.”

The man's smile grew wider as he went to retrieve the bracelet, undoubtedly happy at the
prospect of making such a hefty sale. “This is actually a rare piece in our collection,” he told
Harry as he came back to the counter, “As of yet we have not found what powers it contains, if it
contains any.”

Harry held in his sigh of relief, glad that the bracelet seemed not to be a dark object,
“That's fine. It's a present for our sister, here, she just became of age. She spotted it
in the window and demanded it.”

“Excellent. And will you be purchasing anything else today?” The three exchanged a glance.
Having already browsed for the cup when they came in, it appeared that their business was done.

“No. If you could just put that in a box we'll be on our way.” Harry paid for the bracelet
and soon they were home again.

“So what do we do know?” Ron asked as they ate dinner later. They had already worked quite a bit
on the bracelet, placing spells and charms on it, attempting to figure out what it was, nearly
positive that it was not simply a bracelet. After a time they had decided to give up and let it sit
for the night.

Hermione said nothing and Harry shrugged, “I don't know, but it's good that we go the
bracelet back.”

“Yeah,” Ron replied, ending any discussion for the rest of the evening.

~*~

Hermione cursed silently, having stubbed her toe on the foot of the bed. Looking up and seeing
that, to her relief, Harry was still asleep, Hermione continued quietly to their closet. Gently she
turned the brass knob and entered the tiny room, turning on the light after closing the door behind
her. She walked to the back corner and crouched down, retrieving the diary and boxed bracelet and
sitting on the carpeted floor. She felt the familiar twist in her stomach that came on the verge of
possibly solving a great puzzle.

Hermione looked again at the steadfast lock that held the diary shut. Engravings were etched
into the gold; engravings that, Hermione now realized, matched the ones on the heart. Se So she
studied the lock, she looked for a place to put the heart, no longer doubting that it was some sort
of key. When she found nothing, Hermione began touching the heart to the lock. After several
minutes she became tired and frustrated and began tracing the engraved swirls on the lock with the
tip of the heart. It was after tracing a particular swirl in one of the corners that the lock
glowed and popped open.

Hermione's eyes grew wide, but she could not bring herself to open the diary. Instead, she
locked it again, restoring it and the bracelet to their original positions on the closet. Quickly
she turned out the light and moved back into bed next to Harry.

Harry opened his eyes sleepily, “Where did you go?”

“I just had to use the loo,” Hermione whispered gently, “You can go back to sleep.”

Harry nodded and closed is eyes, pulling her close with her back against his chest and his arms
around her. Hermione relaxed as his slow breathing lulled her back to sleep, not prepared to
process what she had just done.

~*~

Tuesday passed quickly as the three worked with Tonks and Remus, successfully draining them of
any energy they may have acquired. This was what had become of their weekdays. In the morning they
would rise, showers and eating breakfast, have a lesson, eat lunch, have a lesson, eat dinner, work
on their essays for Gretta, try to figure out something in relation to the Horcruxes, maybe talk a
bit, and then go to sleep, always exhausted. Then, in the morning, they would get up and do it all
over again. After cleaning up the dishes, Hermione went upstairs to find Harry and Ron inspecting
the diary and the bracelet, though separately.

“What are you two doing?” Hermione asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“Trying to figure out a way to open this along with trying to figure out what the heck this is
other than your ordinary bracelet,” Ron replied before returning to inspect the lock on the
diary.

Hermione felt a knot forming in her stomach, but simply walked over and sat on the floor next to
them, “Have you found anything?”

“Nothing,” Harry sighed, “I'm just so annoyed, feeling like the answer's right in front
of me. Have you got any ideas?”

Hermione paused, a part of her wanting to tell them, but another part of her, the part that was
afraid of what might lie in the pages of the diary, “No, not really. Have you tried breaking the
lock?”

“You mean other than the fifteen ways we tried yesterday?” Ron snapped, clearly irritated with
not being able to crack this, “Yes. Nothings worked. I tried exploding the lock and the stupid
thing snapped at me.” He held up his finger where Hermione found a small cut.

Hermione smiled and kissed it, “Well, at least we've learned that it doesn't like
explosions. Maybe you could try…”

“Stroking it?” Harry replied with a grin, “I highly doubt it's as simple as that.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, then chuckled, “Plus Harry's already tried it.”

When Wednesday morning rolled around, they were grateful for Gretta's subdued lessons.

Harry and Hermione watched nervously as Gretta read their unabridged essays. Having decided to
be honest when Gretta asked the three of them to write about their relationships with each other,
Harry began to wonder if he had been too honest. He recalled describing his feelings about Hermione
when she was around in detail.

“I appreciate that you two were honest with me. If you had concealed this we would certainly
have problems later on. I am also pleased to tell you that I will not be giving you your last
written assignment.” She laughed as the trio failed to contain their smiles.

“I want you to try and figure out what is triggering your powers. From what Professor McGonagall
and your other trainers have told me this has been particularly difficult. Feel free to risk
outlandish guesses. If you would like, you can try and figures out what triggers each other's
powers, too.”

Hermione was practically bouncing in excitement, while Ron and Harry looked rather ill and
intimidated. Gretta smiled and bid them goodbye, leaving them for the afternoon, which they spent
working on their essays and then had a quick practice and workout with Tonks.

Hours later Hermione was washing away the sweat (and smell) of herself when she heard the door
open and close in the bedroom. Wondering what Harry was doing heading to bed so early (it was only
9 o'clock, after all) Hermione quickly finished her bath (her sore muscles protesting all the
while) and donned her pajamas and bathrobe.

She found Harry sitting quietly on the side of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees. Gently
she crept onto the mattress behind him, enveloping him in her arms. “How are you doing?” she asked
quietly.

Harry shrugged, lifting one of her hands and softly kissing the back of it. “Come here,” he said
softly, moving back on the bed and sitting Hermione on his lap.

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, speaking after several minutes, “Are you going to tell
me what's on your mind or am I going to have to drag it out of you?”

“It's just…” Harry started and then stopped, closing his mouth and opening it again, “I
don't think I will go back to Godric's Hollow anymore. At least not for awhile.” Hermione
nodded understandingly and Harry went on, “You and Ron and anyone else I suppose can go if you want
to, but I just… it's too hard to go there. Okay?”

“Okay. Speaking of Ron, where has he been at nights?” Hermione asked changing the subject since
she could tell Harry didn't want to talk about it.

“He told me that he been helping out at Fred and George's store in Diagon Alley, earning
some extra money.” Harry replied.

“Oh. Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah?”

“I've been thinking…perhaps we should tell Professor McGonagall, Tonks, and Remus about the
Horcruxes. They may know things, especially McGonagall and Remus, since they were part of the
original Order of the Phoenix.”

Harry remained silent for several moments, staring blankly ahead, before answering, “I think
you're right.”

“I know…you do?” Hermione asked, shocked.

Harry smiled at her, chuckling a bit, “Yes, I should think you'd be used to being right by
now.”

“I am, I just thought you might need more convincing,” Hermione replied.

Harry grinned, “Well, now that you mentioned it, I'm starting to doubt my decision.”

“Oh, I see…” Hermione said, beginning to kiss him, “And what might I need to do to persuade
you?”

Harry merely smiled as her lips continued to touch his skin, “This…this is good.”

~*~

“That's why we decided to tell you,” Harry finished the following evening as he, Hermione,
Ron, Professor McGonagall, Tonks, and Remus sat around the kitchen table. “We figure that you are
all more familiar with happenings in the dark world, or that you'd at least know something
about what kind of objects he might have chosen or where we might be able to find them.”

“How many still need to be found?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Well, we're assuming there are six, not including the one inside of Voldemort himself.
Harry destroyed the diary and Dumbledore destroyed the ring. We also know that the locket is one,
though someone has already stolen it, and Helga Hufflepuff's cup is believed to be one.
According to Dumbledore, Voldemort's snake, Nagini, is most likely one, so that only leaves one
more,” Hermione answered.

“Have you considered that…well, that Harry might be one?” Remus quizzed, frowning at the
thought.

“Me?” Harry replied, shocked.

“I've though about it,” Hermione replied, “But I strongly doubt it. I believe that Voldemort
prepared all of the Horcruxes around the same time, and long before he encountered Harry. That
said, I've been reading up a bit on Horcruxes since there are a couple of books about them in
Harry's room that Dumbledore left. From what I can tell, it's next to impossible to create
on by accident, let alone in another person.”

“Bloody hell,” Tonks mumbled, “That is one petrified man.”

“Definitely,” Ron replied.

“What do you two mean?” Harry asked.

“To be that frightened of death that he's willing to split his soul,” Tonks responded with a
shudder, “There is something seriously wrong with that man.”

Remus snorted, “You think?”

“Well, that's quite enough about that for one evening,” Professor McGonagall said, ending
the discussion, “It was very wise of you three to tell us and it is greatly appreciated that you
trust us with this. I can promise that we will be keeping our eyes open and that, should anything
come up, you will be informed immediately.”

“Thanks,” the three answered.

“So who's up for a game of Exploding Snap?” Ron asked after a moment. Harry, Remus, and
Tonks immediately jumped up and followed him upstairs. Hermione hung back to help Dobby with the
dishes (she finally gotten him to quit trying to stop her).

“Miss Granger, may I have a moment?” the Headmistress asked.

“Sure,” Hermione replied, drying her hands and walking back to the table.

“Surely you realize that school is starting up in a few weeks,” she began, “And I assume that
you plan to stay here with Misters Potter and Weasley?”

“Yes, ma'am, that's correct. Why?”

“Because I would like to offer you the position of Head Girl,” Professor McGonagall told her
with a hint of a smile.

Hermione smiled sadly, “Professor, I mean Headmistress, you don't know how much it means to
me that you would offer me that, but I am not changing my mind.”

“You could help them from school, you know…they could come, too, even if not to attend as
students.” Professor McGonagall insisted.

“That's a wonderful offer,” Hermione replied, “But we need to be here. Hogwarts would give
us many limitations, and I need to be available to Harry and Ron all of the time. I'm
sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am. It's going to be quite a challenge finding someone to replace you,”
Professor McGonagall said with a sigh.

“I'm sure you'll find someone. Look on the bright side. Without Harry and Ron or Malfoy,
Crabbe, and Goyle, you won't be needing a Head Girl quite as much.”

Professor McGonagall grinned, “Now that, Miss Granger, is a beautiful silver lining.”

~*~

“Hermione?” Ron's voice came from the doorway, “What's wrong?”

Hermione looked up, taken from her thoughts as she sat on the bed, “Nothing, I was just
thinking.”

Ron came over and sat next to her, “I'm not buying it. Something's upsetting you, I can
feel it.”

Hermione sighed and cast a charm so that Harry would not hear from the bathroom, where he was
taking a shower. “I've been keeping something from you and Harry.”

“What is it?” Ron asked, clearly concerned.

“I…” Hermione bit her lip, “Please don't tell Harry. A couple of nights ago I figured out
how to open Lily's diary.”

“You what? How?” Ron quizzed, clearly surprised.

“The bracelet charm is a key,” Hermione answered.

“Really? How did you…” Ron stopped, realizing that Hermione was still troubled, “So why
don't you want to tell Harry?”

Hermione shrugged, “I'm afraid of what's in there. There might be things that he's
better off not knowing.”

“Or there's another reason…” Ron prodded gently.

“It's just…” Hermione sighed, “It's her *diary*, Ron. I'm sure you've never
kept one, but I have, and there are things in mine that I wouldn't want my kids to know, let
alone their friends.

“I understand,” Ron replied, “but I think we both know that you'll have to tell him
eventually, and that sooner is always better than later.”

Hermione sighed, “I'll tell him…” she bit her lip, “tomorrow night. I have to try and think
of how I am going to say this.”

Ron smiled as they heard Harry turn off the shower, “Good.” Hermione took down the charm and a
few moments later Harry walked out, clad in pajama bottoms.

He smiled at them, “I think I am the only guy on this planet who can find his girlfriend and
best mate on the same bed and not be suspicious.”

“Says who?” Ron asked, draping a suggestive arm over Hermione's shoulder and wiggling his
eyebrows. Hermione played along and leaned into Ron, who smiled, “Looks like you have competition,
mate.”

“I see. You want to come over here and fight like a real man?” Harry asked.

“I sure do,” Ron replied, scooting off the bed, “And you know what? I can do it with my shirt
*on*. What do you have to say to that, `Oh Chosen One'?”

Harry grinned, “I am shaking with fear, `Oh Red and Freckled One'.”

Ron clapped his hands together, “Then let the fight for `Oh Bushy One' begin!” The fight did
begin, of course, but only after Ron received a good few pillows to the head. After about fifteen
minutes Harry was ultimately proclaimed champion. Ron soon left, and Harry came to Hermione with a
grin plastered on his face.

“Have I won fair lady's heart in my noble fight against the `Freckled One'?” He asked,
standing in front of her as she knelt on the bed, wrapping her arms around him.

Hermione shook her head, and at Harry's crestfallen she added, “You did not win my heart in
that fight for you already had it.”

Harry smiled, pleased, and kissed her, “Good.”

~*~

Hermione stood next to Ron, watching as Harry and Tonks dueled mercilessly. Their training
session had ended forty-five minutes ago, and since then he and Tonks had been having at each
other. Sometimes they would forgo their wands and begin doing what Hermione could only consider
martial arts, though unlike anything she ever learned about in the muggle world. This was quicker,
more powerful, and appeared to be much more painful. Tonks was easily more skilled than Harry in
this, but he seemed to be holding his own quite well. Back and forth it would go, the brutal
beatings and occasional quips being exchanged like cards in a game of poker.

After receiving a kick in the gut, one that looked so painful Hermione winced and had to cover
her eyes for a moment; Harry gritted through the pain and lunged past Tonks, retrieving his wand
that had been previously knocked out of his hand. Tonks, having miscalculated and overestimating
the amount of downtime she would receive for kicking Harry, was stupefied on the spot. Breathing
heavily, Harry walked over and revived her, grinning proudly.

“Bloody hell, Potter,” Tonks sighed as Harry pulled her to her feet, “You've been practicing
with that birthday present of yours, haven't you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said as he took in gulps of air, “Though I would definitely say that you are much
more of a challenge. Do they teach you to kick like that when you become an Auror?”

“A bit. Most of if comes with on-the-job experience. I am scared of the day when you learn to
kick like that. Merlin, I am thirsty!” Tonks finished, changing the subject and heading to the
door, Ron and Harry close behind, but Hermione held Harry back. As soon as Ron and Tonks had
descended a decent amount of stairs, Hermione closed the door and pushed Harry against it, kissing
him urgently.

“What…has,” Harry said between kisses, “gotten…into you?”

“That,” Hermione said, running her hands up and down his arms, “Was the single most sexiest
thing I have ever seen.” She pushed herself upon him again, thrusting her tongue in his mouth.

Before Harry could say anything else, the doorbell rang. “For the love of Merlin!” he exclaimed
as Hermione immediately stopped her ministrations and began pulling him down the stairs, “We've
been here for weeks and that doorbell hasn't rung once, figures that it would ring *now*.”
Hermione simply smiled at him and tugged him to the door as Tonks and Ron entered the foyer as
well.

Harry walked to the door and opened it, but nothing could have prepared him for what stood
behind it. There may have been a collective gasp coming from behind him, but Harry wasn't sure,
for all that his brain registered was that on his doorstep stood Draco Malfoy, appearing to have
been beaten almost unconscious.

If that were not truly odd enough, Malfoy seemed just as surprised to see them, for the only
words he muttered were, “Oh Bloody Hell,” before promptly fainting on the doorstep at Harry's
feet.

~*~

A/N: Big thanks to Lady Starlight as always, for she really makes this story so much better.
Another big thanks to all of you who left all of those great reviews, you really got me motivated
to write more, hence the quick update. Thank you!

P.S. I will be posting a one-shot sometime between today and Thursday (unrelated to this story,
but cute nonetheless) so go check it out! :)

-->



15. An Unwelcome Guest
----------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

Author: Vickles

Disclaimer: The characters blatanly refuse to divorce JKR for me, and now some of them are not
returning phone calls. I swear I heard mutterings of “restraining order”…. Why don't they see
how much I love them?

~*~

Chapter 15: An Unwelcome Guest

~*~

“Just shut the door, Harry,” Ron said from behind him as Harry stared dumbfounded at Draco
Malfoy's still body, “Just shut the door and we can pretend this never happened.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Ron! We can't just leave him there!” *That's Hermione,*
Harry registered in his head. He turned around and looked at his two friends and Tonks, and could
tell that they were waiting for his instructions. *Since when did I become the one who gives
instructions?*

“Well, honestly, Harry, it's your house,” Hermione replied to his thoughts impatiently.
Harry let her snappish tone go, knowing that it was her way of working past her shock.

“Let's pull him inside. When we close the door we can levitate him,” Harry pulled
Malfoy's surprisingly heavy body inside the house. Once inside Tonks levitated him, which
seemed to worry Hermione a bit, clearly thinking of Tonks' clumsy tendencies, but as she was
about to say something Ron put a hand on her arm, stopping her.

“Do you really care if she runs his head into a wall?” he asked quietly. Pausing to think about
it, Hermione shook her head, and the three of them followed Tonks and Malfoy up the stairs.

“Hey, Potter! Where do you want me to put him?” Tonks asked.

“Take him into me and Ron's former room,” Harry answered and Tonks turned into the room as
they approached it. Once she had gotten Malfoy on the bed, Tonks conjured ropes and secured him to
the bed as Hermione removed his wand from his pocket and placed it discreetly with her own in her
wand holster strapped to her hip. Hermione then did a quick once over, checking him for any serious
internal injuries, then did a spell on his right arm.

“He just seems to have been beaten quite badly, nothing totally serious,” Hermione said after a
few moments, “From what I can tell he's fractured his arm, but I already healed that. It also
looks as if he hasn't eaten in a few days. Evil or not, Harry, we should get him some food if
we expect to get anything out of him.”

Harry shrugged, not particularly liking the idea but not minding it either, “Okay. Dobby?” he
called. The little house elf appeared in front of him at once, but his smile soon disappeared.

“What is it?” Hermione asked, crouching in front of Dobby.

“M-master Malfoy!” Dobby exclaimed, turning to Harry, “What is Master doing here, if Dobby may
ask?”

Harry shrugged, “That's what we'd like to know.”

Dobby narrowed his eyes at Malfoy and then returned his gaze to Harry, “May Dobby leave, Harry
Potter, sir?” They all nodded and Dobby left.

“Right,” Harry said after a moment, mentally smacking himself, “I forgot for a moment that he
used to work for the Malfoys.”

“No problem, I'll go get the food for the bugger, then. Be right back,” Tonks said, sensing
that they needed a moment, then left the room.

Once she was gone, Ron turned to both of them, “Okay, I'm calling a Triptych meeting.”

“A Triptych meeting?” Harry asked and Ron nodded.

“All members of the Triptych please meet me over here right now,” he told them in an official
voice. Exchanging a glance, Harry and Hermione followed him to the back corner. “What are we going
to do with him?” Ron asked once they we in a huddle.

“He's staying here,” Harry replied, not thinking about it.

“Why?” Ron asked.

“Because Dumbledore told him to,” Hermione said to Ron in an `I'll tell you later' sort
of voice, “But, Harry, I don't think that Malfoy was seeking your help. He didn't seem to
expect that we'd even be here.”

“I don't care. He's here now, which means he's staying, like it or not. Besides, I
want to know why he left Voldemort and why he's here.” Just as he said this, Tonks came in with
a plate of sliced bread and a glass of water.

“It's what we give prisoners or people we're interrogating,” she told them as she set it
on the table beside Malfoy's bed, “Gives `em what they need and puts `em in their place. Do you
want me to revive him?”

“Yeah,” Harry said and Tonks did immediately.

Malfoy barely lifted his head as he opened his eyes, taking in his surrounding, “Oh Bloody
Hell,” he sighed, dropping his head back on the pillow and wincing.

“You said that already,” Harry told him, crossing his arms, “Why did you come here?”

Malfoy kept his mouth firmly shut, only opening it to give a demand, “Let me go.”

Harry shook his head as Hermione walked over and stood beside Malfoy's bed, “It's not
happening.” Harry watched Hermione transfigure the lamp into a chair, sitting on it and lifting up
a slice of bread, holding it close to his mouth.

“Eat it,” she told him, “We know you haven't eaten for days.”

Malfoy looked longingly at the piece of bread, but resolutely kept his mouth shut and Hermione
sighed, “Just eat it.”

Malfoy simply continued to stare at the ceiling, stubbornly taciturn.

Hermione rolled her eyes rather obviously, “Okay, Malfoy. You can choose to be a stuck up prat
about this, but let us look at some facts. You have not eaten in days and you want this bread, or,
at the very least, your body does. We are not letting you go anywhere and with your hands strapped
to this bed the only way you will be able to eat this is if I hold it for you. Now, I may be a
Mudblood and we may hate each other, but the truth is that you do not have many options. Whether
you knew that we'd be here or not, we all know that you came here because you need help, and
whether we want to or not, we are giving it to you. So here are your choices: You can eat this
bread from my dirty Mudblood hands or we can leave and come back tomorrow when you will again have
the exact same choice. Am I making myself clear?”

Malfoy did not answer, but apparently she had been quite clear indeed for, after he gave her a
nasty scowl, he grudgingly took a bite of the bread, and then another one. Ron and Harry watched
with shock as Malfoy ate the whole piece from Hermione's hand. Hermione cleaned off her hands
briskly and turned to Harry in a businesslike manner, “Do you want me to wait until I give him
water or any more bread?”

Harry nodded; something about what Hermione had done suddenly telling him how he needed to
handle this, “But just leave the plate there.” Hermione watched as Harry's face became
unreadable to her, taking a form that she had never seen before as he turned back to Draco. Looking
at Ron's expression, she could tell that he noticed the change in Harry's air as well. “Why
are you here?” he asked again.

“Let me go,” was the only answer Malfoy gave.

Harry did not flinch, but simply repeated his question, only to receive the same answer. This
went on five more times before Harry turned to Hermione, “Give him some water and then meet us
downstairs,” he then addressed Malfoy, “Welcome to this room, your new prison. When that changes is
based entirely on you.” With that, he followed Ron and Tonks out the door, closing it behind
him.

“Yeah, right, Potter,” Malfoy muttered as Hermione conjured a straw for the water. He turned to
her, “How the hell am I supposed to go to the bathroom, Granger?”

Hermione simply shrugged, holding the straw to him lips. It took no more than a minute for him
to finish a glass. Malfoy leaned his head back on the pillow, “I give him two days until he
cracks.”

Hermione looked at him crossly, “I wouldn't count on it.” She walked to the door, “I suppose
one of us will see you in the morning to give you breakfast.” She shut and locked it and then
walked down to this kitchen.

“Okay, what was *that*?” she asked Harry when she came in, the three of them standing and
leaning against the counters, drinking butterbeer.

“What was what?” Harry asked as he reached into the fridge and then handed her one.

“You weren't you for a minute there,” Hermione told him, “You were like…like…”

“An Auror,” Tonks finished with a grin.

Harry looked at her in disbelief, “Really?”

“Oh yeah. It's this weird thing, really. You cannot quite explain it, and even most Aurors
do not have it, but when it's there, you just rather get this air about you. It's
like…”

“What you say is the law and anyone who disobeys will be killed on the spot,” Ron commented.

Harry shrugged, clearly embarrassed by the attention, “I don't know what you guys are
talking about.”

“I've seen guys using it at work. Remus does it when he gets into a mindset about something
in the Order or at the Ministry. About Malfoy, though, I want to know how the little bugger found
his way here,” she said, returning to the subject at hand.

“I don't know, but we definitely need to recast the Fidelius charm on this house. We've
been putting it off for over a month now, I suppose it only makes sense that something like this
would happen,” Hermione told them grimly.

“Okay, but who are you lot going to use as Secret Keeper?” Tonks asked as they walked over and
sat at the table.

“Harry, of course,” Ron said, “I mean, it's his house.”

“No, we shouldn't use me,” Harry replied, “All I would need is one off night and Voldemort
invading my mind for the whole charm to become completely useless. I think Hermione should be
it.”

“Me?” Hermione asked, “Well, I suppose that does make sense, since my mind is less penetrable
because of the Triptych, but perhaps we should have someone who doesn't live in the house.”

Harry turned to Tonks, “Do you think Remus would be willing to do it?”

“I could talk to him. Off the top of my head, I cannot think of a reason why he would not do it,
but I suppose it is polite to ask. Everyone would have to leave the house at the Charm is being
cast, which means we'd need to find something to do with Malfoy, Jr.,” Tonks pointed out.

“Speaking of Malfoy, what do you suppose made him leave Voldemort's ranks?” Harry asked.

“I reckon it was his dad that finally did him in,” Ron replied, “I always knew Lucius was gay.”
This was followed by a fit of snorting laughter from Tonks, and Harry and Hermione's drinks
simultaneously spit from their lips, only causing Tonks to laugh harder. Ron simply smiled
innocently, “You laugh, but I am one hundred percent serious. I swear that before second year in
Diagon Alley he tried to make a pass at me.”

“Ron!” Hermione wheezed as she nearly fell out of her chair, “S…stop…it's too…funny.”

Harry laughed, trying to regain his composure, “Now there's a scoop for Rita Skeeter. I bet
he and Voldemort are in it, together. Chamber of Secrets, indeed.”

“Oh, goodness, poor Ginny!” Tonks giggled, “And we all thought that the only thing she suffered
from was brainwashing!”

“Tonks!” Hermione gasped, then swatted Harry and Ron as they both convulsed, smacking the table.
Hermione tried to bring the group back to focus, “You know we are supposed to be having an
important discussion.”

“You are absolutely right, Hermione,” Tonks said as she and the guys wiped the tears from there
eyes. “Tell me, what is left to be discussed?”

“What are we going to do with Malfoy?” Hermione asked them, “We can't keep him strapped to
the bed…” Ron muttered something in Harry ear causing Harry to snigger momentarily until a cross
look from Hermione shut him up, “He has to be able to go to the bathroom, since I don't fancy
cleaning a soiled bed and there is no way I would make Malfoy do it.”

“Just leave it to me,” Tonks told Hermione, “I can put some wards up like we use at work. Malfoy
will be forced inside the room and adjoined bathroom, sound good?”

“Perfect. Do you want to go do that now before you get going? I imagine we've held you over
quite a bit longer than you expected to stay,” Hermione pointed out.

Tonks smiled, “Yeah, I'll go do it. When I get home I'll talk to Remus and we can come
back in the morning, bring McGonagall if we can.”

“That'd be wonderful. Thank you, Tonks,” Hermione said as Tonks left the room. “Now you two,
there's one last thing. His meals.”

“What about them?” Ron asked.

“Well, he needs three of them, and there's three of us, so I say we split it up equally.
I'll bring him dinner.”

“And I'll bring him lunch,” Harry added, immediately following Hermione's statement.
They looked expectantly at Ron, who sighed.

“I guess I'll be bringing breakfast, then,” Ron droned with a sigh, “Bloody hell, there is
something horribly wrong with the universe when I have to get up extra early to feed
*Malfoy*.”

Harry nodded, “Then again, something's horribly wrong with the universe when Malfoy comes
knocking on your door and proceeds to pass out.”

Ron let his head fall to the table, “Bloody wanker.”

~*~

“Harry?” Hermione asked timidly as he got into bed next to her.

“Yes?” Harry replied.

“Are you…Has Malfoy being here put you in a foul mood?” Hermione quizzed, pulling her knees up
to her chest under the blankets.

Harry laughed, “A bit, yes. Why?”

“It's just,” Hermione sighed. He was not going to be happy to hear that she had kept
something so important from him. “It's just that there's something I have to tell you but I
would hate to be going into it with you in a mood, to be perfectly honest.”

Harry seemed torn between wanting to know what she had to tell him and reassuring her that he
was not in a *mood*, as she had called it. He turned and faced her, placing a hand on her knee
as he scooted closer, “Hermione, my bad feelings are all directed towards Malfoy at the moment.
Now, depending on what it is that you need to tell me I can't promise that this won't
change.”

“Alright,” Hermione took a deep breath, “I figured out how to open your mum's diary.”

“You did?” Harry's eyes lit up, but Hermione pushed on.

“I figured it out four nights ago.”

Harry drew back, “You what?”

Hermione figured that she might as well tell him everything. “Do you remember when I woke you up
in the middle of the night and told you I had been using the loo?” Harry nodded. “That's when I
figured it out.”

Running a hand through his hair, Harry took a calming breath, clearly trying to control his
temper, “Why didn't you tell me and Ron? We were just sitting and making fools of ourselves and
you knew the whole time.”

“Ron knows. I told him last night.”

Harry stood and crossed the room, putting some distance between them, “You told Ron first.” He
stated it so simply, so clearly controlled.

“I'm sorry,” Hermione said, unable to look at him, “I meant to tell you first, but you know
how Ron's gotten lately. He can read us likes books, and he could tell something was eating at
me. I could have tried lying, and I did, but he saw right through it.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest, “Yeah I've noticed that you and Ron
both possess that peculiar power lately.”

“Mine's different, you know that, and it isn't nearly as consistent as Ron's has
been. Look,” Hermione crossed the room to Harry and put her hand on his neck, as she looked him in
the eye, “I am sorry I didn't tell you until now. There is no excuse. Besides the fact that we
should always be honest with each other, that diary belongs much more to you than it does to
me.”

Harry sighed and sat back on the bed, Hermione with him, “Why didn't you want to tell
me?”

“I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid that you'd want to read it,” Hermione
admitted.

“What would be so horrible about that?” he asked.

“It's her diary, Harry,” Hermione told him, taking his hand in his, “I mean, on one level,
sure, it might be the greatest chance you get to really know your mum. Then again, on the other
hand…” she struggled for a moment, thinking of how to word it.

“On the other hand…” Harry prodded gently.

“I've kept a diary, and I know that my mum has kept diaries. I love my mum, and I'd like
to think that I know her pretty well considering how much I see her and vice versa. But, Harry,
there are things in my diary I would never want my mother to know, and I'm sure it's the
same with her. There are things in my diary that I would not want my children to read, because I
think that as parents, people make an image of themselves to their children. I know you never
really had this Harry, but all kids grow up thinking that their parents are perfect, and that they
can do anything. Then, at some point, we just realize that they are people, and that they can mess
up, just like everyone else.

“I'm not saying that you think your mother is perfect, or that she necessarily has a bunch
of dark secrets. Diaries tend to contain our thoughts in our very moments of weakness and
vulnerability; even as Gryffindors our courage sometimes fails us. There is no doubt in my mind
that your mother was a great woman, but she, like all the rest of us, was human. I would just hate
for you to read that and lose the respectable image that you have of her in your mind.”

Harry stared at Hermione for a moment, then patted her hand tenderly, kissing the back of her
palm and smiling a little, “You're making it really hard for me to be mad at you, you know
that?”

“That wasn't my intention,” Hermione told him, “I simply wanted to explain to you why I
withheld the information.”

“Well,” Harry sighed, “I hate to tell you this, but you worried over nothing. To be quite
honest, I've thought the same things over the past few days and do not plan on reading it.”

Hermione looked up, “You don't?”

Harry shook his head. “At some point, I may have to ask you to read it, though. There may be
information in there that we need, and I know I can trust you to know what's important and what
not to tell me.”

Hermione nodded and they both scooted back into bed under the covers, “So, are we okay now?” she
asked as they faced each other.

“Yes, I just wish you'd have told me first.”

Smiling, Hermione touched his cheek, “Are you jealous of Ron?”

Harry pouted, “Maybe a little. I mean, I had no idea that anything was bothering you but he did,
and that's my job, isn't it?”

“Maybe,” Hermione said, “But I think that you do your job just fine.”

“Why do you say that?”

Hermione shrugged and smiled, “Because at the end of the day yours are the arms I want to be
held in.”

“Oh,” Harry pulled her close as she buried her head in his chest. He turned out the lights and
kissed her gently on the forehead, “How's that?”

“Wonderful,” Hermione told him, stretching her neck and kissing him gently. Harry exhaled softly
and began to kiss her back when suddenly he stopped. “What is it?” she asked him.

Harry sighed, “I can't do this right now.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, puzzled, only causing Harry to sigh again, clearly irritated.

“Malfoy's in the building.”

“Right,” Hermione replied, seeing how that could be a bit of a mood killer, and then looked back
up at him, “Can you still hold me?”

Harry looked down at her and smiled and, for a moment, she got the feeling that he had forgotten
Malfoy existed, “Always.”

~*~

“Merlin I hate that stupid bloody horse-wanker,” Ron said when he entered the kitchen the next
morning, causing Harry to choke on his sausage.

Hermione patted Harry on the back until he quit coughing, “Please enlighten me, Ronald. What
exactly is a horse wanker?”

“Er…” Ron thought about this as he scooped eggs onto his plate, “One who wanks horses?”

Hermione made a disgusted sound as she went back to reading her paper and Harry laughed, “So I
suppose you didn't get any information out of Malfoy as you gave him breakfast, then?”

“Of course not,” Ron said, “Wouldn't even talk. By the way, why do we have to watch him eat
if we don't have him strapped to the bed anymore?”

“Because he'll open up eventually,” Hermione answered, “It's just a matter of
*when*. The more time we spend around him the shorter amount of time it will take. Harry will
try some more at lunch and I'll try some at dinner.”

“Try some what?” Came Remus' voice from the kitchen door as he and Tonks walked in.
“Hopefully not Tonks' cooking, you'll be sick for days.”

Tonks smacked him on the shoulder, “You said you liked it!”

Remus smiled and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek before taking a seat next to Harry and
Hermione as Tonks sat by Ron. “So I hear you have a new guest,” he said after a moment.

“Is that what we're calling him now?” Ron asked, “Because I thought horse wanker was more
accurate.” Tonks snorted as Hermione threw a roll at Ron, which he then thanked her for with a
cheeky grin and proceeded to stuff in his mouth.

“Right,” Remus said, choosing to move on, “And the fact that our guest has arrived has brought
up some security issues?”

“Definitely,” Hermione replied, “And we think you're the best candidate for Secret Keeper,
as I'm sure Tonks already told you.”

“She mentioned it, yes. Are you three sure about this?”

The shared a quick looked before Harry answered him, “Yes. We think it would be better to have
someone outside the house and someone a bit lower profile than the three of us.”

“Alright, well, I'll get in contact with McGonagall since I'll need her help with
casting the spell. We can probably have it up by this evening or tomorrow afternoon at the latest,
but you three will have to leave the house while it is being set up. Any idea where you can go?”
Remus asked.

“Well, the Burrow's the last place we'll be wanting to go if we want to keep Malfoy
secret, so that's out,” Ron said.

Harry and Hermione stared at each other, thinking, before Hermione spoke to Remus, “How about my
parents' house? They have no contacts in the wizarding world so we don't have to worry
about them telling anyone, and it will only be for a few hours, am I right?”

Remus bit his lip, “No more than two or three hours. If I can get in contact with McGonagall you
can go for dinner tonight. Is there anything else?”

“Just one thing,” Harry said, “Do either of you know how to transport a prisoner?”

“I do,” Tonks said, sitting up. She looked at Remus, “How about you go and try to get a hold of
McGonagall while I explain it to them? I expect she's setting up the school right now.”

“Good idea, I'll be back as soon as I can,” Remus bent and gave Tonks a quick kiss before
Disapparating.

“Now,” Tonks grinned, turning to them, “You wanted to learn about transporting unwilling
subjects?”

~*~

“Get up, Malfoy,” Ron said, shaking Draco's shoulder as Harry and Hermione entered the room
behind him.

Malfoy sat up on his bed that he appeared to have been napping on, “What?”

“We're going on a little vacation,” Harry told him, and then turned to Hermione, “You can go
ahead.”

Hermione nodded and cast the spell, magically binding Malfoy to Ron so he could not get away.
They were not connected visually, just so that Malfoy would remain in the same area as Ron at all
times. “We better get going so they can get started,” Hermione said.

“Right. They know we're coming?” Harry double-checked and Hermione nodded.

“I stopped by earlier this afternoon. They're very excited.”

“Excited?” Ron asked, glancing at Malfoy, “Why?”

“I told them Malfoy was a friend from school,” Before Malfoy could come up with a remark she
went on, “Let's just go.” With that, she Disapparated and Harry, Ron, and Malfoy, unwillingly,
followed suit.

They arrived in the familiar estate and were immediately greeted by Hermione's parents.
“Hermione dear!” Mrs. Granger exclaimed as she gave Hermione a big hug, “It's so nice of you
and your friends to come visit us.”

“No way…” Malfoy said as he stood between Ron and Harry.

“Malfoy,” Harry warned through clenched teeth.

“You actually…

“Malfoy.”

“…brought me to…”

“*Malfoy*.”

“A filthy Muggle house?!”

“Malfoy! Shut up!” Harry turned to Draco with his hands raised, unknowingly sending him five
meters into the corresponding, thankfully bare, wall. After impact, Malfoy immediately fell to the
ground, conscious but stunned.

Harry turned to Hermione and her parents, embarrassed. “I swear I didn't mean to do that,”
he told Hermione, who, like everyone else in the room, was rather shocked, “I'm not even
entirely sure how it happened. Do you have any idea?”

Hermione looked at him, walking across the hall on instinct and making sure Malfoy was okay.
Once she was certain that all of his bones were intact, she walked back to Harry. “You know, I
appreciate you defending my family's honor and all, Harry, but next time perhaps make as little
movement as possible.”

“Is that what happened?” Ron as, coming towards them, “Harry pushed Malfoy without touching
him?”

Draco got up and walked towards them, still keeping his distance. Harry glared at him.
“Apologize to them,” he commanded.

“That's really not necessary,” Mrs. Granger tried to say but Hermione held her hand up,
knowing that Harry would not back down.

Appearing torn between defying Harry and keeping himself from being beaten, Draco sighed and
turned to the Grangers, “I'm…” he struggled, “*sorry*.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Granger responded. “Now, how about you all follow my wife into the den. Harry,
could I have a moment?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said. Hermione tried to hang back, but Harry silently told her to go ahead,
which she finally did. Mr. Granger led Harry over to a pair of chairs on the side of the foyer.

“I'm not stupid, Harry,” Hermione's dad said once they were seated.

“I never thought so, sir,” Harry told him, “I'm pretty sure that would be impossible,
Hermione being as incredibly smart as she is.”

“It's good of you to notice that. Tell me, Harry, what are your intentions with my
daughter?” Mr. Granger asked, staring intently at Harry.

Harry thought for a moment, “That's a broad question to try and answer, Mr. Granger. Do you
mind me asking how much Hermione has told you?”

“Me? Nothing,” the older man answered, “But my wife has brought to my attention that you two are
together. Why are you with my daughter, Harry?” Harry chuckled a bit, which, understandably,
irritated Mr. Granger some, “What is so funny?”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Granger, I do not mean to disrespect you at all it's just that, quite
frankly,” Harry had to stifle his chuckles so he could speak, “there is no real reason that I'm
with Hermione, and I'm pretty sure she'd tell you the same. We care a lot about each other,
of course, but as far as `choosing' to become more than friends?” Mr. Granger nodded along and
Harry laughed again, “To be totally honest I don't think either of us had a choice.” Harry,
never having given it much thought before, began to laugh harder at the revelation.

Apparently having heard him from the next room, Hermione walked in, Ron peeking from the
doorway. “Harry, what on Earth are you doing, laughing at my father?” She looked at him as if he
was certifiably insane.

Harry waved his hands as he laughed at the oddness of the situation, “I'm not laughing at
him, Hermione,” Harry put a hand on his middle as it began to hurt form the laughter, “It's
just that he asked me *why* I'm with you…” Hermione began to catch on and giggled a little
while Ron smirked from the doorway. Harry stood from his chair and walked a few steps to Hermione,
still chuckling, “Do you know what I told him?”

“What?” Hermione asked, her eyes twinkling.

“I…I told him…” Harry realized how confused Mr. Granger must have been, “I told him that we
didn't really have a choice!”

Hermione laughed, turning to her father as she rested a hand on Harry's shoulder, “He's
absolutely right, Dad,” she giggled and went on, “We're like magnets!” This made both of them
laugh even harder.

Ron shook his head as he watched from the doorway, “And people say that Luna's crazy.”

Later, after things had calmed down and everyone had eaten dinner (including a reluctant
Malfoy), Remus Apparated in to the den where they were relaxing, smiling. “How did it go?” Hermione
asked.

Remus simply cleared his throat and spoke officially, “The home of Harry Potter, Hermione
Granger, and Ronald Weasley is at Number 12, Grimmauld Place.”

A little mini applause was given from the couches where they sat. “So can I take our
*guest* on back, then?” Ron asked.

Remus nodded and Ron stood, Malfoy and Harry along with him. Harry turned to Hermione, “You want
to come back a little later?”

Hermione smiled, “Just an hour or so. Thank you.”

Harry nodded and said goodbye to the Grangers, returning to Grimmauld Place with Ron and Malfoy
quite soon. As Ron took Malfoy back to his room, Harry bid him goodnight and headed to his and
Hermione's bedroom, changing and lying down on the bed, unexpectedly tired. He was just dozing
off when Hermione popped in. She changed quietly, trying not to disturb him, and carefully got in
next to him, facing away. Harry was going to simply let her fall asleep when he realized that she
was trembling just slightly. Reaching out, he pulled her close to him and enveloped her in his
arms, kissing her temple, “What's wrong?”

She shrugged a little, “Nothing. I just didn't realize how much I miss them, that's
all.”

Harry smoothed out her hair as he gently ran his hands through it. “But you usually don't
see them often, with school and all…” he said, trying to understand why it was troubling her.

“I know,” Hermione replied softly, then turned around, burying her head in his chest, “This is
just the first time that I don't know when the next time I'll see them will be. Every time
I leave them I feel like it might be the last time.”

He pulled her closer, “I'm sorry.”

She nodded, “I know, it's okay. I just…let's just stay like this. I feel really alone
all of the sudden.”

“Okay,” Harry whispered in her ear.

“Thank you.”

That is when Harry realized his answer to Mr. Granger's question. He was not with Hermione
because they did not have a choice (though it was probably true it was not why). He was with her
for moments like this, to help her in her times of weakness, just as he knew she would help him
when his time came. It was all about give and take, but mostly give, because that is what it is all
about. That is what love is all about.

Harry smiled to himself as he held Hermione's sleeping body in his arms, picturing the look
on her face when he would tell her.

~*~

Sunday passed by quickly. Taking advantage of their day of rest and exhausted from the intense
training that they had began the previous week, the three teenagers slept in a bit. (Actually, Ron
got up to feed Malfoy, then went back to sleep.) After lunch, they decided to do some experimenting
to help with their essays for Gretta. Figuring out what triggered their powers proved to be a
tricky process, and they often got the feeling that the answer was right in front of them and that
they simply were not looking properly. Once a couple of hours had passed they each went and worked
on their theories. Around seven o'clock they gathered in the kitchen for dinner.

“So, is Malfoy's tray ready?” Hermione asked as Harry and Ron tucked in.

“It's over on the counter,” Ron told her, pointing at the plate of bread, a piece of meat
(or at least that's what it looked like), and some vegetables. They had decided that Malfoy
could get other foods for dinner so that he would not suffer from malnutrition, but that didn't
mean it had to taste, or look, for that matter, good. “Good luck getting him to say anything.”
Harry nodded in agreement.

Hermione simply smiled knowingly, “You two just don't know how to handle him.”

“And you do?” Harry asked.

“Maybe, maybe not. Despite his exterior, Malfoy is still a person…”

“I wouldn't count on it,” Ron muttered under his breath, causing Harry to snicker.

“*And*,” Hermione continued, “I know how to handle people. See you two in a bit.” With
that, she headed up the stairs. Out of habit, she knocked before opening the door, finding Draco
lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Silently she walked over and sat in the chair she had
transfigured, setting his food on the small table beside the bed. Malfoy took the food, making no
sound, and began eating the bread. With each passing minute, he seemed to grow increasingly
uncomfortable, but Hermione merely sat there, observing. Finally, he set the piece of bread down
and looked up at her, meeting her eyes for the first time, “Aren't you going to ask me why I
came here?”

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly and shook her head, “No.”

This answer did not please him. When she did not elaborate, he spoke again, “Why not?”

Hermione shrugged again, noticing that the act irritated him, “I find it a waste of my time, not
to mention yours, to ask a question that I will not receive an answer to.”

Malfoy paused, then went back to eating, this time cutting up the peice of meat and chewing it
as he stared down at his place. After another unknown period of time he looked back up at her,
swallowing, “Why are you still here?”

“I'm staying until you are finished eating so I can take the dishes, just like Harry and
Ron,” Hermione replied, finding the question odd.

He rolled his eyes as if impatient with her lack of understanding, “Yes, I know that, but Potter
and Weasley set my plate on the table and then go wait by the door.”

“So?”

“So why don't you wait by the door instead of just sitting there?” Malfoy asked, clearly
vexed at this point.

Just to add to his annoyance, Hermione shrugged again and watched with pleasure as he gritted
his teeth, “Because I choose to sit here. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Malfoy stuffed some more food in his mouth, taking a drink of water, “Yes, in fact, you
are.”

Hermione did nothing, “Well that's a shame. I just hope it does not ruin your appetite. Your
blood won't do us any good if you don't eat well enough.”

Malfoy stopped chewing and swallowed it partially hole, “Blood?!”

She smiled at him, a big, cheesy grin, “Honestly, I don't know why Harry and Ron complained.
This is almost fun.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes and went back to his dinner. “I'm glad you're happy,” he muttered
sarcastically.

Hermione leaned back in her chair and tilted her head sympathetically, “You know this will all
be over as soon as you decide for it to be. Perhaps you could tell me why you came here?”

“It's not happening,” Malfoy said, happy to have finally cracked her, or so he thought, “If
I stay silent long enough Potter will let me go.”

In response Hermione looked at him as if she would an innocent and ignorant small child, almost
surprised at his words, “Is that honestly what you think?”

“Yes,” Malfoy said at he set his fork and knife of the now empty plate, then narrowed his eyes
suspiciously, “*Why*?”

“It's just that…oh look, you're done!” She picked up his plate and stood, walking to the
door, “I'll see you tomorrow evening!”

“But…” he sputtered as she opened the door.

“Bye!” She closed the door and headed back to the kitchen, smiling to herself all the way. Ron
and Harry were still sitting at the table when she walked in, setting the tray down in triumph.

“What's with you?” Harry asked, grinning.

Hermione shrugged innocently, taking one of Dobby's scrumptious rolls and a nice big bite.
She chewed and swallowed before answering him and Ron, “All I have to say is that I told you so.
He'll be talking by the end of the week.” As their jaws dropped, Hermione simply smiled again
and dug into some mashed potatoes.

~*~

A/N: As always, a huge thank you to Lady Starlight, who ever so kindly takes time out of her
busy schedule to make sure I don't royally screw this story up. All reviews are greatly
appreciated! :)

EDIT: The line that Ron says “I always knew Malfoy was gay” was taken/inspired by
ScienceBoy's funny review for Chapter 14. I cannot pretend to have come up with such a funny
idea by myself.

-->



16. Revelations
---------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: roughly 10,518 (*huge smile*)

Disclaimer: I convinced the characters to hold off on the restraining order, but they said that
I need to prove how much I love them, so hopefully this chapter will make them understand!
*sniff*

A/N: Ignore the random hyperlinks, I don't know why they are there.

~*~

Chapter 16: Revelations

~*~

“What are you two still sleeping for?” Ron exclaimed as he opened the door and shut it loudly,
waking them up, “Gretta's going to be here in ten minutes!”

Hermione gasped and looked at her alarm clock, “I forgot to set it last night!” Saying nothing
else, they both jumped out of bed and went in their separate directions. Harry ran into the closet,
throwing Hermione the change of clothes that she had set out for herself the night before and then
Hermione ran into the bathroom. Ron watched from the door with amusement as all of this took
place.

Only five seconds after closing the door, Hermione opened it again and ran out calling, “Wait a
second!” and then opening the closet door where Harry, already having begun changing, had his shirt
off.

“Yes?” Harry asked.

Hermione simply smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips, “Good morning.” She then ran out,
leaving Harry happy and confused.

Five minutes later, after they'd both brushed their hair and teeth, they ran downstairs,
each grabbing a buttered roll that Ron had set out for them. The three of them walked up to the
living room and
quietly waited for Gretta's arrival.

“Good morning,” she greeted them as she Apparated in, “I expect you have your theories for
me?”

Harry and Hermione simultaneously gasped and excused themselves. Ron, quite pleased with
himself, handed his to Gretta. “They slept in this morning.”

“Ah,” Gretta nodded, “Well then I suppose I'll read yours first.”

About twenty minutes later, after carefully reading each theory, Gretta smiled at them, as she
always did. “So I assume you did a bit of experimenting together.”

They nodded and Harry spoke, “It was hard to come up with any theories on what triggers our
powers without comparing them to the other two.”

“I'm glad you noticed that, and you all made some very good observations. Let's discuss
those. Hermione, you can go first,” she said, noticing Hermione's anticipation.

“Well, I believe that they are all interconnected, and that we share some things, but it's
difficult to say, because every time I make an observation of one or two of us, it doesn't work
with the third.”

“Yes, that's correct. Have you made any specific observations of any one of you?”

“Well, yes,” Hermione paused, “I think I've figured out how Harry's work.”

“You have?” Harry asked, surprised.

Hermione nodded, “It came to me when we were at my parents' house, which I wrote about in my
paper. It seems that when you make movements, they rather cue your powers. But I don't think
it's just that. I believe that there has to be something else
there.”

“I've noticed that, too,” Ron said, nodding along. Harry nodded as well, recognizing what
they were talking about now that it had been brought up.

“You are very close, I must say,” Gretta said, “But it's a bit more complicated and
confusing than that. You see, each of you has three triggers, in a way, but they work
differently.

“How?” Harry asked.

“Let's start with you,” Gretta said, “Hermione says that yours is trigged by movement. This
isn't quite true, but it's very close. What is triggering your powers is actually a
conscious emotion or thought, not movement. The movements you make set your powers in motion, but
they are already going from the things you are feeling or thinking. Does that make sense?”

“A bit,” Harry replied honestly.

“Okay, how about I move onto Ron, then? Ron's emotions are what set his powers in motion,
but an emotion is not enough for them. An underlying thought or instinct must activate his powers
before he can use them.

“It's much like Hermione. Before she can use a power, it must originate from an instinct or
emotion, which is why hers are the hardest to control and the most sporadic, if you have
noticed.”

Harry and Ron were still a bit puzzled, but something seemed to have clicked in Hermione, “So
what you're saying is that we each are interconnected one way or another. Since Harry is the
hand of the Triptych, instinct and movement are what act out his powers, but they actually
originate from the powers Ron and I possess, which is thought and emotion. Our powers do not
actually originate from our powers, then, they originate by the other two! That's why Ron's
and my powers can both originate from instinct, why Harry and Ron's can both originate from
thought, and why Harry's and mine can both originate from emotion. Our powers are
interconnected!” Hermione smiled at her revelation as Gretta nodded.

“That's correct,” Gretta told her as Harry and Ron began to catch on.

“So, if I want to use my powers, the power comes from an instinct or thought, but it takes
emotion to make something actually happen?” Ron asked.

“Yes, I must say you three are catching on much quicker than I might have expected.”

“Blimey,” Ron said, “This is going to make training so much easier.”

“Actually,” Gretta said, “Your training will be changing from now on, as has already been
arranged. This week you will be reviewing everything you have learned and you will have your last
lesson with Moody, though he may still occasionally pop in. Tonks and Remus will continue to do
daily workouts with you so you can all pick up endurance and strength, but they will also be
teaching you strategy on the battlefield, which is something that I've heard you need. Being
able to think on your feet is good, but you also have to be prepared. I will be working with you as
well, a bit more than I have been, showing you different ways in which you can use your powers and
talents without necessarily revealing it to the enemy.”

“So when will this all be starting?” Hermione asked.

“Later this week. Also, I know you won't like this, but you will no longer have the weekends
off,” They failed to hide their disappointment and Gretta smiled sadly, “We just believe that time
off is no longer efficient. If you have something that you must do, rescheduling lessons is
possible, and we will give you Sunday mornings to relax a bit.” The three sighed, relieved at that.
“Now, if there is nothing else I am needed for, I promised Minerva that I would help her out up at
the school today since the students will be arriving in a few weeks.”

They nodded and bid her goodbye. Ron frowned after she left, “No weekends off. That royally
stinks. I've been tired enough as it is.”

“Look at it this way,” Harry said, “No more essays.”

Ron smiled, “Would you look at that, there really *is* a silver lining to every cloud.”

“I'm going to miss the essays,” Hermione said as they entered the kitchen, where
Malfoy's tray of bread and water was out. Harry groaned and Hermione patted him on the
back.

“I'll be back in a bit,” Harry muttered before walking out after having had a quick bite to
eat. Ron and Hermione ate the rest of their lunch, but Hermione hurried a bit through hers, leaving
the kitchen not long after.

When she reached Draco's door, she sat down quietly, waiting for Harry. She knew the affect
that Malfoy could have on Harry, as well as the rage that Malfoy inspired. The memory of Harry
choking her in his sleep, thinking her body was Draco's, was all too vivid in her mind.

After fifteen minutes or so, Harry walked out, looking annoyed and tired, not noticing that she
was sitting by the door right away. Then, as if he sensed her, he looked down, his features
relaxing almost instantly, “Hi.”

She smiled as she stood, “Hi.” Leading him into the nearby study, she took the plate out of his
hands and set it on one of the desks, then wrapped her arms around him.

It took a moment, but he soon relaxed into her embrace, exhaling softly. Hermione gently touched
her lips to his skin, and soon he was doing the same kissing her collarbone. Remembering when he
had unintentionally tickled her there, Hermione smiled, “You know, I never got you back.”

“For what?” Harry asked as he continued his kisses and traced his fingers along her sides.

Hermione struggled to maintain her train of thought, though it proved to be difficult, indeed,
“For tickling me that morning. I told you I'd get you back, but I never did.”

“Mhmm…” was all that came from Harry's mouth in response, “And why does that matter?”

“I…” Hermione sighed gently as his lips began making a path to her lips, “I don't
recall.”

Harry nodded, “Good, then do me a favor.”

“What?” Hermione asked, almost breathless.

“Quit talking.”

Hermione willingly obliged, giving in as his mouth finally claimed hers. His hands rested on her
hips, then drew up under her shirt where no fabric separated them. Not meaning to, Hermione
shuddered a bit, holding his hand there so he understood it was okay. He nodded and went back to
his ministrations, bringing one hand up and running it through her hair as their tongues continued
to tangle. It was the perfect moment; right up until a throat was cleared from the doorway.

Harry and Hermione broke apart instantly and saw Ron leaning against the doorframe, a hand over
his eyes and looking adorably embarrassed and apologetic, in Hermione's opinion, “I honestly
hate to interrupt, but Tonks is waiting for us in the attic. I'll…I'll just see you up
there.” With that, he walked out, assuming they'd follow soon enough.

They quickly straightened their clothes and Hermione spoke, “Best get going to training then.”
She headed to the door but then was stopped in her tracks by an unknown source. A shiver went up
Hermione's spine as she realized that Harry was holding her back with magic. She turned around,
expecting to see a grin on his face, but his features were serious and his eyes were clouded as
they bore into her. Without a word, he strode forward, grabbed the back of her neck, and pulled her
into a quick, but fierce kiss.

He let her go, straighten up, and began walking out of the room, “Now we can go to
training.”

Hermione watched in a daze, her lips still tingling, as he walked through a door. Lightheaded,
she began to follow him, stumbling a bit and smiling to herself, “Dear Merlin, I love him.”

Training went on as normal. Despite the morning's revelations, Tonks wanted to hold off on
any special use of their powers until later in the week as Gretta suggested, which was fine with
Hermione since all she seemed to be able to concentrate on was Harry. She was relieved when the
time came for him and Tonks to duel, though it did nothing for her current state. As they finally
wrapped up, (Tonks won today, which disappointed Harry and made Hermione want nothing more than to
walk over and kiss away his troubles) Tonks Disapparated. Harry and Hermione began to follow Ron
out of the room when Ron turned around, an annoyed look on his face as he stared at them.

“Just stay here and snog, alright? It's all she's been wanting to do for the past three
and a half hours!” Ron exclaimed, giving an involuntary shudder. “Meanwhile I am going to Diagon
Alley to see if Fred and George have any good firewhisky or some kind of product to make me forget
this afternoon.” He shuddered again and left them.

Without further ado, Hermione practically pounced Harry, ignoring how sore he probably was and
expecting him to complain. To her surprise, however, Harry chuckled.

“What's so funny?” Hermione asked, drawing back a little.

Harry merely smiled, “You want me.”

“I…” Hermione felt the need to object.

Continuing to grin, Harry went on, “You want me so bad that it was emanating off of you and
causing our poor friend mental damage.”

Hermione pulled a few feet away from him and crossed her arms, trying not to smile, “Okay, fine,
but what are you going to do it about it, then? Are you going to stand there and be cocky, or kiss
me until I swoon?”

Harry smirked, “Well, I rather like being cocky…”

Those were the last words out of his mouth for quite a long time.

Around an hour later, (how time flies…) they headed downstairs into the kitchen, where
Malfoy's tray was set out once again. Hermione grinned in anticipation and Harry looked at her
in wonder, “I will never figure out how you are possibly getting him to talk.”

“Don't take it personally, dear,” Hermione said patronizingly, “I'm simply better than
you.”

Harry mocked the face that one makes when a person suddenly makes a realization, “My goodness,
you're right! I will eternally be inferior to Your Greatness.”

Hermione sniffed as she headed to the door, smiling, “I prefer Oh Great One, but that will do.”
With that being said, she headed up to Malfoy's room, opening the door quietly.

Tonight she set his food down and then proceeded to stand by the door. Before he could even take
a bite Malfoy looked up at her, curious and irritated, “Why aren't you sitting?”

“You said that it annoys you when I sit.”

“I know, but it's more annoying for you to stand there like that.”

Hermione shrugged, “Then there is no pleasing you. Now eat or I'll simply leave and you can
have food in the morning when Ron brings it.”

Malfoy made a bit of a growl and then began eating, but not for long. After a moment he looked
up, the irritation no longer betrayed on his features, “Look, could you just sit?”

“Why?” Hermione inquired.

“Because,” was the only answer Malfoy gave.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Malfoy seethed, “Yes, I want you to sit here.”

“Okay!” A bit too perky about it, Hermione semi-skipped over and sat on the chair.

He took a few more bites, and then looked up at her, “Why were you waiting outside the door this
afternoon when Potter brought me lunch?”

“Do you actually care?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Then why should I answer?” Hermione quizzed.

Malfoy clenched his teeth and took some water. “Why do you have to be so difficult?”

Hermione leaned in, whispering, as if about to reveal a juicy secret, “I'm not the difficult
one here.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Malfoy asked, offended.

“It means that between the two of us you are the one acting like an petulant child, stubbornly
choosing to sit locked up alone in a room all day rather than answering a few questions and
receiving the help you want and need,” Hermione replied simply.

“I don't want any help.”

“Then why did you come here?”

Draco opened his mouth to answer and then caught himself, grinning at her with the tiniest bit
of respect, “Well done, Granger, but it won't be that easy to get me to open up.”

Hermione merely shrugged, “I hardly expected it to be. You're the one that almost fell for
it.”

He continued to eat his dinner, “So, say I do care, why were you waiting outside the door?”

“I was waiting for Harry. Knowing how angry and tense you can make him I thought it might be a
good idea to calm him down.” Hermione had to contain the giddy smile that almost came to her face
at the thought of what had happened earlier in her quest to `calm him down.' “Now do I get to
ask you a question?”

Malfoy swallowed, “You can ask what you want, but I don't have to answer.” He began to
scrape the remains of his dinner off the plate.

Hermione leaned in, staring at him intently, “Why couldn't you bring yourself to kill
Professor Dumbledore?”

Malfoy looked up, shocked and speechless at her question. Hermione took his empty plate,
“I'll leave your water here tonight and let you think about that. Goodnight.” With that, she
left him, still staring silently into space.

When Hermione entered the kitchen, she found Harry deep in thought. Quietly she set the tray
down and scooted next to him, “What's wrong?”

Harry blinked and turned to her as if just knowing that she was there, which was most likely the
case, “I was thinking about Godric's Hollow.”

“Yes?” Hermione urged gently.

“It's just that… is it just me or does something about that house not add up completely
you?” Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. She had not wanted to bother him, but she had noticed the same thing the very
first time they had went, “Yes, I noticed that parts of it seem a little off. I would have to go
back there to verify anything, though. Why is this suddenly bothering you?”

“Well, it's just that…this whole mission, the reason we aren't going back to school and
why we're training…it's all so that, eventually, I can end it, right?” Hermione nodded.
“But going back there, I'm starting to wonder how it even began. I mean, why did my parents
keep the fact that they were going to have another child a secret? I suppose what's bothering
me is that….Hermione, how can I possibly end something if I'm not sure how it started?”

Hermione wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head on his shoulder, “I don't
know.”

“Do you think we'll ever find out about all of the things that happened before that
night?”

“Not everything, I suppose, but we'll find out enough, I think. Are you sure you want to
find out everything?”

Harry's head drooped, his cheek against the top of her head, “No. Then again, I'm not
sure about a lot of things.”

Hermione looked up at him, “What are you sure about?”

Kissing her forehead, Harry pondered this for a moment, “You. And Ron. But mostly you.”

“I'm glad you can be sure about me. That makes me happy.”

“You make me happy,” Harry said giving her a kiss.

Hermione sighed and began kissing him backing when her stomach growled rather loudly, causing
them both to giggle. “Oops,” Hermione said, with a laugh.

Harry chuckled, “Apparently, I am detaining you from your meal.”

His arm still around her shoulders, Hermione poured some soup in a large mug, drinking it like
she would whenever she was sick. After she finished, she surprised herself with a yawn. “Goodness,
what time is it?” she asked Harry.

Harry looked at his watch, “It's only eight thirty.”

Hermione began clearing away her dishes, “I'm exhausted for some reason. I think I'm
going to head up to bed, are you coming?”

“In a bit,” Harry sighed tiredly as he stood, “I promised Ron I'd owl Ginny so she can come
over tomorrow night. You know, so we can *talk*.” He sat the last bit with loathing.

Smiling sympathetically, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a quick kiss,
“Don't stay up too late, okay?” Harry nodded, and with another kiss goodnight, Hermione headed
upstairs.

On her way to their room, she ran into Ron as he was heading to his room. “Did you just get
back?” she asked him.

Ron shrugged, “Yeah.”

“Did you get that firewhisky you were after?”

“What?” he asked confused, then remembered, “Oh. No, I can't even count on Fred and George
for that.”

Hermione gasped in a joking matter, “The world must be ending.”

“Seems like it. Where's Harry?”

“Writing Ginny.”

“That's right. I forgot he was going to do that. Well, I'm going to bed. Goodnight,” He
gave her a quick hug and headed into his room.

Sleepy, Hermione headed to their room. She had barely changed clothes and gotten into bed when
she fell fast asleep.

Tuesday passed with amazing swiftness. Ron had his last lesson with Moody in the morning, and it
was a great success. He was able to selectively channel emotions into Harry and Hermione, the same
thing he'd been trying to do for weeks. In the afternoon, they'd worked with Tonks and
Remus. Harry practiced moving objects around the room, something he could only do occasionally
before, and Hermione attempted to read Tonks' mind. Hers being the hardest power to control, it
was still a bit random in occurrence, but the progress was obvious. As they headed into the kitchen
Dobby presented Harry with a letter. Assuming it was from Ginny, Harry opened it as they sat at the
table.

*Harry,*

*I was very happy to hear from you, but I will not be able to come until tomorrow night. If
that will not work owl me back, otherwise I will see you then!*

**Ginny**

“Why was she happy to hear from you?” Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, “I don't know. All I said was that we needed to talk.”

Hermione laughed, but stopped herself, apologizing “I don't mean to be rude. It is a shame,
actually. Ginny is such a level-headed girl in all matters that exclude you, Harry.” Ron nodded in
agreement.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Well that just makes me feel all warm and tingly inside.”

“Why aren't you taking Malfoy his food?” Ron asked Hermione.

Grinning, Hermione took a quick drink, “I have a feeling that I'll be in there longer
tonight. Despite his best efforts, he's opening up to me.”

“Sure he is,” Ron said sarcastically.

Hermione quickly finished her food and grabbed Draco's tray, “Think what you will, but I
know that you are simply jealous.”

As soon as she entered his room, Hermione could tell that tonight was different. Rather than
taking large amounts of food as he had previously done, Malfoy was nibbling it, not speaking at
all. Hermione waited patiently, and it eventually paid off. “How did you know about…about that
night?”

“That's irrelevant,” Hermione replied simply, “The point is that I do and I know that you
couldn't do it. What I don't know is why.”

“I don't want to answer your question,” he finally said, no longer eating.

“What do you think is going to happen here?” Hermione asked him, changing the subject, “Do you
really think we'll just give up on you?”

“No,” Draco admitted, “I just know that school starts in a few weeks and when that comes
I'll be home free.”

Hermione pondered revealing the information to him, then decided it could not hurt, “That's
a great idea, except of course that we are not going back to school this year.”

Malfoy raised and eyebrow, “That's rather stupid, isn't it? Especially for you,
Granger.”

“Why do you say that?”

Releasing a hard laugh, he rolled his eyes, “I may not like you, but even I know that you'd
be Head Girl.”

Hermione smiled, flattered despite herself, “You think so?”

Malfoy shook his head, going back to nibbling his food, “Don't be dumb about it. I was just
trying to make a point.”

“Either way,” Hermione said, going back to what they had been talking about, “we're staying
here so you being stubborn will not achieve anything.” She watched as he continued to move food
around on his plate, “Are you not hungry? Because I can just go…”

“No,” Malfoy cut in, hastily putting a bit of food in his mouth.

“Oh, okay.” That's when Hermione first saw it. Whether they liked each other or not, Malfoy
did want to tell *someone* about what happened, whatever it was. Since Ron and Harry had
suitably closed themselves off to him, she was now his only option.

“Do you actually want to know?” he asked after a bit.

“What do you mean by that?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I mean that…do you actually want to know why I couldn't kill him or were you just trying to
get at me?”

“Honestly?” Hermione asked and Malfoy nodded, “Honestly…and this stays between you and me, I
hope you understand. Unlike Ron and Harry, I do not believe that you are completely bad, even if
you want to be. I believe that you were raised to see a different view of right and wrong, but
despite your best attempts, some part of you is telling you that what you see isn't as right as
you have been led to believe. Harry told me what happened last year in that bathroom,”
Hermione's chest stung as she remembered the lashing she had received from Ginny later that
night for `harping' on Harry, “And I know that, possibly despite your best efforts, you are
capable of human emotion. That said, up until recent events I still would have believed you capable
of murder. This leads me to want to know, why couldn't you do it?”

“You're wrong,” he told her.

“About what?”

“That I'm capable of murder. I…I know that I pick on people…”

“You mean bully.”

“Fine,” Malfoy admitted, “I know that I bully and that I've done some horrible things, but
even I…I couldn't possibly...” He looked down at his hands, avoiding her gaze.

Not knowing why, Hermione placed her hand on his, “I know that…” Those were the only words she
said before suddenly his manner changed and he grabbed her wrist and flung her, sending her
tumbling over the other bed and landing on the floor rather harshly. She had barely gotten to her
feet when the door was thrust open, Ron and Harry storming in and slamming it behind them.

“What did you do to her?” Harry yelled in Malfoy's face. Hermione felt something sting and
looked to see that her hand was bleeding, having sliced it on something. Not wanting Harry or Ron
to see it, she hastily covered it up, but it was too late.

“Bloody hell…Harry, he actually hurt her!” Ron exclaimed, taking her hand despite her
protests.

Harry looked like he could have given Malfoy the beating of a lifetime, but Hermione ran forward
and stopped him, pushing him back by Ron. She turned to Malfoy, refusing to give up on him because
of one little thing, “Fine then, you want to fight? Come with me.” She disengaged the protections
on the room and pulled Malfoy out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out the door, Ron and Harry
following close behind.

She took them to the attic, then handed Harry her wand, motioning for him and Ron to stay by the
door and pulling Draco to the middle of the vast room. She tensed up for a fight, “No magic, just
us. You've got your frustrations, I've got mine.”

Malfoy seemed to think she was kidding, so, just to make sure he got it, she sent him a swift
kick in the gut, hardly any force behind it. With that done, they began fighting. Malfoy was
stronger, but she was quicker and more skilled, so it turned out to be a pretty even match. Out of
the corner of her eye, she could see that Ron had to restrain Harry at first, but soon he relaxed,
as much as he possibly could, at least.

As they circled each other, Hermione began speaking, “Why did you push me away?”

“Because,” he grunted, getting in a punch on her side.

Hermione winced, but gritted her teeth, “Maybe it's because it's been so long, perhaps
never, since someone has actually touched you without motive or bad intentions and it's now
your instinct to repel anything or anyone that tries to get close to you.”

“You're not trying to get close to me. You just want to know why I'm here.”

“Maybe I want to know because I'm trying to get close to you,” Hermione replied as their
sparring went on.

“Maybe you're just nosy.”

“Maybe I am. That doesn't mean I don't want to help you.”

Malfoy made no reply, but simply focused on the fight.

Hermione knew she was getting somewhere. *So this is what he needs*. “What are you really
fighting, Draco?” She used his first name for the only time in years, and she could tell it had an
effect on him.

He did not speak, so Hermione picked up the chair, the one that had been her enemy for so long
and, signaling a truce, handed it to him. “Break it,” she instructed.

“Excuse me?” he asked, not taking it from her hands.

“Break it. Does one of us need to show you how?”

“No, I just…what do you mean?” She could tell that her sudden change in attitude had thrown him
off.

“Just break it. If it helps you can picture that it's Harry,” she told him with a quick
wink, then went back to being serious, “Unless, of course, it's not Harry that you're
fighting?” she prodded.

He sagged a little, taking the chair from her hands, “So you just want me to break it?”

Hermione nodded and stood back. Without further ado, Draco picked up the chair and smacked as
hard as he could into the wooden floor, breaking off two of the legs. He proceeded to continue
smacking it until all he held in his hands was a single piece of wood. Meanwhile, Hermione motioned
for Harry and Ron to leave, which they did without question.

Malfoy looked up at Hermione, chest heaving, as handed her the single piece of wood
silently.

Hermione took it and put the chair back together, sitting on it, “Did that help?”

He sat on the floor, “No.”

“Did beating me up help?”

“No.”

Hermione nodded and scooted off the chair, sitting in front of Malfoy, inches from him but
carefully not touching. “At some point you're going to need to get past this,” she said, trying
not to sound too kind or too harsh, motioning to the chair, “Whatever *this* may be. You
don't really trust me and I get that, but I have a feeling that you know things that could help
us, and that we have the means of protecting you, since, in a way, we already are. All I have is
one question.”

Malfoy sighed, “Why am I here?”

“No,” Hermione took a breath. She was taking a big risk by bringing this up, but she just had to
know, “Why haven't you left yet?”

Draco looked up, startled, “What do you mean?”

“Surely it has occurred to you that you could escape whenever you feel like since I took you out
of your prison, but you've stayed. Do you really want to go back where you came from?” Hermione
waited for him to simply take off, knowing how angry Ron and Harry would be. To her surprise,
however, Malfoy simply stood, heading to the door.

“I think I'm going to go finish my dinner.” Hermione nodded and followed him, directing him
to the room and closing the door once he was inside, feeling no desire to stay and watch him eat.
Sighing, she walked up to her and Harry's room, knowing without much thought that Ron and Harry
would be waiting for her there. When she walked in, she expected them to be angry with her,
lecturing her about how dangerous it was for her to do what she'd done, but that didn't
happen. Instead, they both jumped up, Ron checking to make sure she was all right as Harry pulled
her into a hug.

After a moment Harry pulled back, holding her at an arm's length and looking down on her
with pride, a look that she also noticed was on Ron's face. “I can't believe that you
actually *fought* Malfoy,” Harry said with a grin.

“And kicked his butt on top of it!” Ron added. Hermione blushed, raising a hand to her cheek.
Ron winced, “Blimey, that's a pretty bad cut, there.”

Hermione looked down at where she had hurt the back of her hand earlier, noticing for the first
time that it was actually a bit deep. Harry gently took her hand in hers, covering the blood, and
led her over to the bookshelf, scanning for a book. “I think there's a book on healing here
somewhere…there it is.” He said after a moment and released her hand, reaching down for the
book.

Hermione gasped. *No way,* she thought to herself, her other hand flying to her mouth,
“Harry, I don't think you'll be needing that book.”

“Why?” Harry asked and Hermione merely held out her, now fully healed, hand.

Ron walked over for a closer look, then proceeded to stare at Harry in awe, “What the hell did
you just *do*, mate?”

Harry seemed to be in shock as he delicately turned Hermione's hand in his own, “I…I guess I
healed her cut.”

Hermione smiled at him in disbelief, “Well I think that might come in handy on the battlefield,
don't you?”

“I'd say so!” Ron exclaimed. “Is anyone starting to get the feeling that we're
invincible?”

“I'm not sure about that…” Harry said slowly, “We'll definitely need to talk to someone
about this tomorrow,” he added, reading Hermione's thoughts.

“Okay, well…I think I'll be off, then. All of this activity this evening has got me
knackered. Goodnight,” Ron said, shutting the door behind him.

Hermione watched as Harry quietly walked over to the clothes, taking off his shirt and kicking
off his shoes on the way. She noticed for the first time that his hands were trembling. Walking up
behind him, Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him around, “This just now really
freaked you out, didn't it?”

Harry nodded, “Not that it isn't great, but it just kind of popped up on me.”

“I know. Don't think about it too much and let it wait `till morning, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Hermione grabbed her pajamas. Since Harry went into the closet to change, she figured
she might as well just change in the bedroom. She had changed her bottoms and had just pulled off
her shirt when Harry walked out of the closet in his pajamas. Embarrassed at being caught in only
her bra, Hermione quickly reached to grab her top, but Harry reached out his hand and stopped
her.

“Please…don't,” he said softly, his eyes boring into hers.

“I…” *I need to put my shirt on now,* Hermione thought desperately but could not find the
words.

“Here,” Harry said, pulling off his shirt, “Now we're equal.”

Hermione swallowed, *Oh, yes, that makes me feel* loads *less uncomfortable*, her
mouth dry, “Okay.”

Harry pulled her over to the bed, both of them kneeling on the mattress. He stared at her, not
rudely, just stared at her, as if taking it all in. Hermione finally tried to cross her arms over
her chest, but Harry gently rested his hands on her arms, stopping her, and looking up into her
eyes, “You're so incredibly beautiful, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled and laughed a little despite how exposed she felt. “You go and say things like
that and it makes me…” she said lightly before Harry stopped her with his lips.

He pulled away and smiled a little, becoming familiar with her again and allowing her to
remember that this was Harry for a second, “No jokes for a bit, alright?”

Hermione nodded, barely hearing him as she became lost in his eyes, laying back on the mattress.
Their kiss began to exceed the point of counting, and Hermione's skin began to tingle on her
abdomen and back where his hands would touch her. Though she was grateful that he was carefully
avoiding her chest, it only made her want him to touch her there more. Tenderly put her hand on
his, pulling it up to the curve of her breasts as she felt it hesitating in her palm, telling him
with her kisses that it was okay. It didn't take long for him to catch on, though he still
remained a bit unsure. They continued on, Harry never pushing despite how much she knew a part of
him must have wanted to. The material of her bra remained intact, but that was okay for
tonight.

*One small step at a time*, Hermione told herself before she began to lose all logical
thought.

Some time later, they lay in each other's arms, (not fancying sleeping in a bra Hermione had
gone and changed into her pajama top) relaxing but not sleeping.

“It's eleven thirty,” Harry said quietly in her ear, “We are going to be so tired
tomorrow.”

“I know,” Hermione said, “But I'm not tired.” She paused for a moment, and then added,
“Actually, I'm hungry.”

Harry sat up and turned to her, “Me too. You want to go get a snack?”

Hermione nodded and took his extended hand. They both donned their bathrobes and headed out the
door, holding hands and in oddly good moods. About halfway there, their lips had collided (neither
of them were quite sure how this happened). Not really minding, they proceeded on their way to the
kitchen, giggling madly between kisses whenever they would run into something. They finally reached
the kitchen, but the door was closed so Harry bumped into it. Fumbling with his hand to find the
doorknob as Hermione continued to kiss him, Harry finally found it, smiling against her lips, and
opened the door, sending them stumbling inside, cueing more laughter.

“Dear Merlin, please spare me before I vomit,” came the voice of Draco Malfoy, sufficiently
surprising them.

Hermione screamed in shock, breaking apart from Harry and instinctively wrapping her robe
tightly around her, finding Malfoy sitting at the kitchen table drinking what looked like tea out
of a coffee mug. “What are you doing in here?” she asked, wrapping her bathrobe tightly around
her.

Malfoy shrugged.

“How did you get out?” Harry began interrogating him.

Draco rolled his eyes, “Chill out, Potter. Have I run away yet? Didn't think so, though I
have to admit I almost did after *that* little show just now.” He turned to Hermione, whose
face seemed to be growing redder by the second, with less hostility, “You forgot to put the
barriers back up so I came down to get something to drink.”

Hermione mentally smacked herself as Harry crossed his arms, still looking at Draco,
“There's a reason we've got you locked up in that room, you know, and…”

“Yes, I know. I am being left in solitude without any luxuries in life until I decide to say why
I came. Believe it or not, I was doing something thinking just now.”

“Really,” Harry retorted, clearly not taking him seriously.

“Yes, really. I was thinking that I'm sick of being locked up and might as well just save
you the trouble and tell you how and why the hell I came here.”

Harry and Hermione shared a wary look, wondering if it could possibly be that easy. “I'll go
get Tonks,” Harry said, figuring that she may have access to Veritaserum, and Disapparated.

“I'll go wake up Ron,” Hermione said, mostly to herself, and then turned to Draco, “Will you
stay here?”

He shrugged in response, “I don't have anywhere else to go, do I?”

Not knowing how to respond, Hermione briefly nodded and Apparated to Ron's bedroom. Walking
over to his bed she shoved him a bit, knowing how difficult he could be to wake up. “Ron,” she said
a little above her normal speaking volume. After a few more times she gave a little tug on his
hair, sufficiently doing the job. His eyes popped open and he looked around the room wildly,
“Whazzit? Whazzapning?” he asked, his words slurring together.

“Malfoy's decided to talk,” Hermione told him.

“*Now*?” Ron asked, “How…why?”

Hermione briefly recounted what had happened with her and Harry going down to the kitchen to get
a little snack, carefully leaving out the part of the state she and Harry had been when walking
into the kitchen, not feeling the need to bother her friend with that considering what she's
unknowingly put him through earlier. Ron nodded and pulled on his own bathrobe, following her back
down to the kitchen where Malfoy was just as they'd left them.

Ron took a seat next to Hermione and across from Draco. “Only you could ruin a midnight snack,”
he said irritably.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Hermione, now scarlet red, and then turned to Ron, his features
unchanging, “Well pardon me. I didn't realize that *Potter's tongue* was a midnight
snack. I'll be sure to make note of that.”

Thankfully, Harry and Tonks popped in before Ron could react.

“Isn't Remus coming?” Hermione asked.

Tonks shook her head, “He's had a busy week so I figured I'd let him sleep and I'd
just fill him in tomorrow morning about the story behind Malfoy. Speaking of which,” she took a
seat directly across from Draco, setting her pencil and parchments pad on the table, “Would you be
willing to submit to Veritaserum? To be frank, this is all a big waste of time if you are not.”

He thought about this a moment, “If you tell me what you plan on asking first. I refuse to be
taken advantage of.” *Clearly he's been in this situation before*, Harry noted as he took
a seat on the other side of Tonks.

“How can we possibly…” Hermione began in protest but Tonks interrupted her, nodding along with
Malfoy.

“Okay, I can respect the right to privacy, even for the likes of you, and I've dealt with
this before. We can perform the interview and then you will submit to Veritaserum.”

“What will you ask then?” Malfoy questioned cautiously.

Tonks shrugged, “We will merely see if you answered everything honestly.”

Draco pondered this, “Okay.”

Tonks motioned for the three of them to begin, effectively letting them take control of the
situation. Ron and Hermione nodded to Harry, who began, “Why did you come here?”

“The Dark Lord…”

“*The Dark Lord*?” Ron asked, referring to Malfoy's address of Voldemort.

Malfoy merely rolled his eyes, “Yes, Weasley. You grew up saying You-Know-Who, I grew up saying
the Dark Lord. May I continue now?” They nodded. “After that night, when I couldn't kill
Dumbledore…a lot of things sort of happened at once. Snape was put in place as the Dark Lord's
right-hand man, basically, and I was, well, I was effectively shunned, I suppose you could say. My
father disowned me and had me secured until they could figure out what to do with me. He forbid my
mother to see me, but she did, every day. She'd bring me food, reassure me that she was taking
care of things.”

“She started circulating this story, saying that I was going to kill Dumbledore but Snape got to
it first, and that I would have killed him if I'd just gotten the chance. Eventually this story
reached Snape and the Dark Lord. In a moment of mercy, perhaps, Snape suggested that we test this
idea.”

“Test it?” Hermione interjected, puzzled, “How?”

“They brought me down to the prisons, where the Death Eaters awaiting death are caged. There
aren't usually many, but he sometimes keeps a few there, tortures them, especially the
betrayers. He can sometimes get information from them. They brought out one of them, and I knew who
it was. We had known each other as children, because of our parents, and hated each other. When
they had pulled him out, he had been begging, pleading—something that is useless in the Dark
Lord's presence, but many try anyway. No one wants to die knowing that they did not do
everything in their power to stop it.”

“He saw that I was the one to perform the act and he just gave up, as if all that we had done to
each other as children was enough for me to kill him. It was completely different, the way he
looked at me. Dumbledore, he looked at me as if I was not a murderer, and I hesitated. This guy,
though, he looked at me like there was no hope for him because I was the one holding the wand, and
I knew I could not do it.”

Draco paused for a moment, then sighed and went on, “When this became apparent to the others, a
lot of things happened all at once. Chaos ensued, and Snape, once again, performed the murder for
me. The Dark Lord, no longer caring, left us to our squabble, as every other man in the room
proceeded to beat me. Thankfully, I'd already concealed my wand, or I would have lost it. My
mum tried to get them to stop, but,” his eyes began to water, just barely, though it was apparent
that he was trying his hardest to keep it from happening, the others watching him, deadly tacit
with their mouths slightly agape, “But my father yanked her away and pushed her across the room,
yelling at her. In the moment that he turned to watch them beat me, she pulled her wedding ring
off, enchanting it into a Portkey, then threw it at me. There was only a moment before the Portkey
took me away, but that was long enough to see…” His face had now hardened as he stared at the
table, and it seemed that the words simply would not exit his mouth.

“See what?” Hermione asked gently.

Draco raised his eyes to meet hers; “It was long enough for me to see my father send the Avada
Kedavra at my mum.”

The silence that sat in the kitchen following that statement was almost painful. Ron and Tonks
stared at Malfoy in shock, while Harry watched as Hermione's face crumpled, hating that she
should ever have to hear of such a thing happening. Draco sat back and exhaled, crossing his arms.
After many long moments Tonks cleared her throat and spoke, “Do you have any plans now that
you're here? Harry mentioned that you've been doing some thinking.”

Malfoy shrugged, “I just figured that I might as well help the lot of you, seeing as I'm now
number one on the Dark Lord's hit list.”

Harry let out a hollow laugh, “Glad someone else is number one on that list for a change.”

Rolling his eyes, Draco went on, “Fine then, number two. The point is that I can't go back,
and there's nothing I could do short of murdering all three of you that would even get the Dark
Lord to consider it, and it still probably wouldn't be enough, because even if he didn't
want to kill me, my father still would. In addition, we have already established that point.
Besides the fact that Granger already proved that you can take me on, though I wasn't really
trying that hard, I probably couldn't do it if I wanted to, which, to be quite honest, I really
don't.”

Tonks looked at the three of them, “Any other questions?” They shook their heads. “Alright
then,” she passed Malfoy a shot glass with pumpkin juice and a couple drops of Veritaserum, “Drink
up.”

Malfoy did, waiting expectantly, emotionless.

“Is all that you have told us tonight absolute fact?”

Malfoy winced as if trying to hold the answer back, “No.”

They all shared a look of surprise, “How much of it isn't?”

“Just one thing.”

“What is it?”

“When I said I wasn't trying very hard fighting Granger earlier. She puts up one hell of a
fight.”

Hermione blushed and Tonks grinned, moving on, “Is everything else fact?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any bad intentions involving anyone in this room?”

“No.”

“Do you really plan to help?”

“If I can.”

Tonks looked at the three of them, waiting, then spoke. “Well it looks like my job here is done.
I didn't give him much so it should take no longer than a minute or so to wear off. It's
just me for training tomorrow, so I'll come later, seeing how late it is right now.”

“So you'll be coming around noon?” Ron asked hopefully.

Tonks smiled and patted him on the head as she stood, “I was thinking around ten. See you all in
the morning!” With a pop, she was gone.

Ron let out what seemed to be a yawn that he had been holding in for a very long time, “Can I go
back to bed?” he asked the two of them.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “We're not your parents, Ron.”

“Right. Well then, I am knackered. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Hermione and Harry replied as Ron left the room. Hermione turned to Harry, “So what
now?”

Harry leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, unknowingly mimicking Malfoy, “Now…” he
looked at Malfoy, “Would you be willing to give up any information necessary?”

He shrugged in response, “I don't see why not.”

“Okay,” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and Hermione was beginning to see how much training
was taking out of him. He looked up at Draco, “Do you plan on actively fighting or staying behind
the scenes?”

Draco raised his eyebrows in thought, “I don't know…I hadn't thought about that
yet.”

Harry stood, Hermione with him, “We'll let you think about that.” He turned to Hermione, “We
better get some sleep, seeing as it is already one o'clock.”

Hermione nodded and followed him silently out of the kitchen, hesitating just slightly at the
door and letting him go ahead. She turned to Draco, “It was the right decision to talk.” She
paused, wanting to say more, “You no longer have to stay in that room, but…you won't leave the
house, will you?”

“Don't really have anywhere to go, do I?” For one of the first times that evening she
noticed some bitterness in his voice, and it oddly comforted her.

Hermione shrugged, “I suppose not.” With that, she left him, taking Harry's arm that he held
out for her as he waited in the hallway.

They didn't even turn the light on when they reached the room, quietly hanging up their
robes and collapsing on the bed, Harry stopped to take off his glasses. Hermione yawned, “Are we
going to keep holding onto his wand?”

Harry nodded, closing his eyes as he pulled her close, “Veritaserum or not, he needs to do
something to show me that I can trust him.”

“I know. Do you…”

“Hermione?” he interrupted.

“Yeah?”

“Is there any chance that this question can wait until tomorrow?”

Hermione smiled, “Of course, I'm sorry. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

~*~

Draco was already eating breakfast when Harry and Hermione entered the kitchen the next morning.
As they began tucking into their own meals, Ron entered, grinning, “Good morning! Did anyone else
get an extra thirty minutes of sleep last night? Just me?”

Harry shook his head, chuckling, as Hermione simply smiled as she continued to read the Daily
Prophet. Draco frowned, annoyed with his own lack of understanding, as he watched, “Why did Weasley
get an extra thirty minutes of sleep?” he asked the two of them.

Hermione looked up from her paper, swallowing her mouthful of eggs, “Because he didn't have
to get up to feed you this morning.”

“Well, I suppose I didn't luck out. My morning has gotten significantly worse.”

The three of them looked at each other, none of them wanting to ask, but all wanting to get it
over with. Finally Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes at the two boys, “Why is your morning
worse?”

Draco smirked, “On top of having to look at Weasley's sorry face, I now have to look at
Potter's as well.”

Harry scowled, “You realize that I don't actually *need* a reason to lock you up.”

“I'm shaking with fear. I bet I can get Granger to protect me.”

Hermione scoffed, “Even if that were true, it wouldn't matter, seeing as I'm sure Harry
could take me.”

Smirking, Draco continued to look at Harry, “Notice that she didn't deny that she would
protect me.”

“She wouldn't defend you,” Harry replied sternly.

“Oh really,” Draco turned to Hermione, “Would you defend me, Granger?”

Hermione shrugged, “I refuse to defend anyone who can't refer to me by my first name,
*Draco*.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Tonks popped in, “Ready?” She smiled as the three groaned
and followed her out the door.

Today they began working on some basic strategy with their powers. Harry was okay, but, being
more of an improviser, Ron and Hermione were excelling much quicker than her was.

“You know,” Tonks said to Harry as they headed back up to the attic after breaking for lunch,
“This could be for the better. Ron and Hermione can strategize which leaves you free to do
what's necessary while still coming in prepared. I think this might turn out to be a very good
balance.” That made Harry feel much better.

About two hours into their afternoon dueling, Draco came in, sitting on the floor and watching,
unnoticed at first since they were all considerably focused. Ron was the first to spot him and
called a truce, distracting Tonks and giving Harry the opportunity to bind her. He undid the spell
and helped her to her feet.

“Did you need something?” Hermione asked as the four of them stood, attempting to catch their
breath.

“No, I was just bored and I could hear you up here. How long do you go on like this?” he
asked.

Hermione looked at her watch, “Ron and I usually go for another two hours and Harry and Tonks
another thirty to forty-five minutes past that. Why?”

Draco shrugged, “Well, you will definitely have an upper hand against the Death Eaters in terms
of endurance, at least. They work out in the mornings, but they're all about bulk and pure
strength.”

“Don't they ever duel?” Ron asked, surprised.

“Not really,” he replied, “They just rely on those good old Unforgivables, if you haven't
noticed.”

Harry nodded and turned back to the other three, “Should we get back to it?”

“Actually,” Tonks said, “I think it's time for some change up, since we're all learning
to read each other too well. It's good, because when fighting we can aide each other, but when
dueling it makes it a little too easy. Ron, you're with me, and then you two are together.”

Harry hesitated, “Can't I fight Ron?”

Tonks laughed, “I wouldn't think of her as your girlfriend right now, Potter. Hermione's
not going to go easy on you so I suggest you do the same. Now let's go.” She began by sending a
curse Ron's way.

After that, Harry didn't really have a choice, seeing as Hermione merely grinned and began
sending jinxes his way, causing him to rack his brain for every counter-jinx known to the Wizarding
World. Tonks was quick and creative, but she stuck to the classics. Hermione, however, almost never
used the same spell twice. She didn't have the muscle Tonks possessed quite yet, but she moved
easily, making her a difficult target.

At some point, they both abandoned their wands, putting them in their holsters, and used their
other powers, sending various objects in the room at each other. There was a moment when Harry had
begun moving Hermione, but that ended when Hermione sent a book flying to his gut. Instinctively,
Harry lifted the chair that sat across the room and sent it flying. He realized a moment too late
that Hermione was not going to be able to miss it, and it hit her very hard in the arm, despite his
best attempts to slow it.

“Damn!” Hermione yelled, surprising everyone in the room as she cradled her arm against her
body.

Harry ran up to her, apologizing profusely, “Are you okay?”

Hermione tried to laugh, despite the tears that fell from her eyes as Harry carefully took her
arm, “I'm fine, just bruised.” She growled a bit, stamping her foot.

Harry couldn't help but smile a little at her, “What is it?”

“I just…dear Merlin, I hate that chair!” Hermione half laughed, half sobbed. Harry let go of her
arm, now healed, then wrapped his arms around her, looking at Tonks.

“Can I *please* fight Ron?”

Tonks laughed as she walked over, changing the subject as she asked, “So when did this new
healing power come up?”

“Er…last night, was it?” Harry could scarcely believe it; feeling like it had been so long ago.
Hermione and Ron confirmed his statements with nods.

Tonks bit her lip, “Gretta's stopping by tomorrow, I think. We can ask her about it
then.”

Hermione suddenly gasped softly, Harry the only one really noticing, and pulled away from him.
She walked over to Malfoy, “Okay, go ahead.”

“With what?” he asked, confused.

“You must have a million questions.”

“Not really. Just one.”

“Yes?”

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, “Where did you three get the Triptych?”

“How do you know about it?” Harry exclaimed, surprised.

He rolled his eyes in response, “Practically everyone knows about the Triptych, Potter. It's
not a big secret or anything.” Draco turned back to Hermione, “So are you going to tell me how you
found it? You can't exactly deny it, especially after that little outburst.”

Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, who merely shrugged, “Harry had it.”

“The Potters had it?!”

“No,” Harry replied, “The Blacks had it, but seeing as I am now the owner of the Black Family
Fortune…”

“How…oh, *Sirius*…” Draco replied as if a puzzle were putting itself together in his
head.

“What do you know?” Ron asked suspiciously.

Draco shrugged, “Nothing. It's just always been a mystery, where the Triptych is.”

“Well, now you know,” Hermione told him.

Ron looked at his watch, “Are we done? I'm helping out Fred and George tonight.”

“We're done,” Harry replied, “See you later.”

“Bye,” Ron popped out, Tonks following not long after.

Draco got up to leave the room. “Where are you going?” Hermione asked.

“I'm hungry,” he replied simply, then left.

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked her. Hermione shook her head and he smiled. “Good, because I had
an idea.” He took her arm and led her up to their room, causing Hermione to giggle.

“You know, Harry, I think it is now *you* who wants *me*.”

“What?” Harry asked as they crossed the room, “No…well, yes, of course I do, but that's not
what my idea was.” He snatched something from his bedside table and led them up to the roof.

Hermione smiled a bit, recalling their first kiss, “Harry, what are we doing?”

Harry smiled and took out his wand, setting the object that Hermione couldn't see on the
ground and enlarging it. She gasped, “What we doing with Sirius' motorcycle…on the roof?”

Harry grinned, approaching her hesitantly, “Hermione…I want you to come flying with me.”

“But…” Hermione stuttered, “Someone will see us!”

“No, there's a Disillusionment Charm on it that I can activate.” He pouted a little,
“Please? I promise it will be worth it.”

Hermione looked at him, holding her ground for one moment longer even though she knew that she
would give in, “Alright. But I have to be able to hold onto you!”

He simply smiled in response as he first helped her on, then got on himself, “Have I ever
complained about that before?”

“No, I suppose not. Harry, are you sure that it's safe to leave Draco in the house alone?”
Hermione searched for excuses as Harry started up the bike.

“I already asked Dobby to keep an eye on him and I have his wand, so there isn't much he can
do. Now do you have anymore excuses before we take off?”

Hermione sighed, “No.”

“Good, then hold on tight.” Hermione let out a little squeal and grabbed Harry as they took off
into the night sky.

Hermione kept her eyes closed for the first minute or two, making Harry a bit sad. “Hermione,
open your eyes please. It's a really lovely night, you know, and if you don't look down I
think you'll really like it.”

“Fine,” Hermione gasped as she looked around. They were flying around a public park, just above
the trees. She allowed herself to breath, taking in the scent. Just as she began to get used to it,
Harry descended, taking of the Disillusionment Charm when they landed on the soft earth. “Where are
we?” she asked him as he helped her off the bike.

“I went flying around Tuesday night when you were with Malfoy. Here, follow me. There's
something I want to show you.” He took her arm and began leading her through the woods. After a
moment he stopped her, covering her eyes with his hands.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Hermione asked with a smile as he gently directed her through the
trees.

“Just a second…here. Close your eyes.” Hermione did as he said. “Are they closed? Good.” He took
his hands down and wrapped them around her waist from behind. “Open them.”

Hermione looked up and gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. On the tree, he had carved a
message:

`Hermione and Harry…

…Forever'

She turned around, expecting to find him grinning with pride, but instead he was simply staring
at her. “I love you,” he told her before she could say anything.

Caught off guard, it took Hermione a few moments to process what he had said, “I…I love you
too!”

Harry smiled, “Really?”

Hermione simply kissed him, holding him tight as their tongues danced, embedding the moment in
her memory forever. “Really,” she replied.

Harry took her and held her, “So was that worth flying?”

“Definitely,” Hermione replied with a smile, her eyes sparkling, “I want to do it again.”

“That's a good thing,” Harry told her, “Seeing as that's our way home.”

Hermione exhaled softly, resting her head on his shoulder, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Hermione smiled to herself, glad that, just for a moment, everything could be perfect.

~*~

A/N: Thanks to Lady Starlight!

Okay, there was a LOT in this chapter, I know. Any questions/concerns/comments/issues/etc can be
sent to me via email at hogwartzchik@yahoo.com or left
in reviews.

-->



17. Exhaustion and Anger
------------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Rating: R (I decided to move it up since I'm not exactly sure what achieves and R rating and
also because I will most likely need to eventually.)

Disclaimer: Christmas makes you want to be with the people you love, and the characters I have
come to adore are spending it with JKR! How can they do this to me? The pain is unbearable, I tell
you! Unbearable! *runs off sobbing, throwing chapter at readers*

~*~

Chapter 17: Exhaustion and Anger

~*~

When Harry and Hermione arrived back at the house, it was only to find that, in their absence,
chaos had ensued. The house looked as if a stampede had whipped through it, and was still whipping
through it by the sounds of things. It seemed like running was going on downstairs, and
occasionally you could hear voices, but not loud enough to distinguish. Just as they reached the
second floor, Harry gasped in realization and ran down the rest of the stairs. Hermione was
confused for a second until she heard Harry yelling, “Ginny, it's okay!” causing her to take
off down the stairs after him.

Upon reaching the sitting room they found Draco Malfoy crouching behind one of the couches as
Ginny stood across the room, her wand fixed at on him. Seeing Harry, she ran up and gave him a hug,
“What is he doing here?” she immediately launched into a great questioning, clearly a bit shaken
up, “I popped in and he was sitting and eating, but none of you were anywhere! I thought he had
done something horrible, that you were all…all dead!” She let go of Harry and immediately gave
Hermione a crushing hug as well.

“We're okay, Ginny,” Hermione reassured her with a smile, “Draco is just…staying with us for
a while.”

“*Draco*?” Ginny asked, looking between the two of them. Harry shrugged as he sat on the
couch, “Are you…friends with him now?”

Harry snorted and Hermione shook her head, leading them all over to the couches, “Of course
not.”

“You know,” Draco said, standing, “I'm still here.”

“Yes,” Hermione said, not really caring, “Why is that?” Not needing more instruction, he left
them. Hermione turned to Harry and Ginny, “I think I'm going to go as well, grab a bite to
eat.”

Ginny nodded, “Okay. Where's Ron?” she asked before Hermione left.

“Helping out at Fred and George's.”

“No he's not,” Ginny replied almost immediately.

“He's not?” Harry asked. “How do you know?”

She merely shrugged, “Just that I've been there all afternoon and Apparated straight from
there to here, so I would have run into him.”

Before Harry could even begin to stand Hermione stopped him, “I'll go check it out, you
stay. You two need to talk.” Hermione smiled as she left them, ignoring the angry glare Harry sent
her from behind Ginny's back. Grabbing her cloak, she Apparated to Weasley's Wizarding
Wheezes.

“Hermione!” One of the twins exclaimed at the sight of her, “What brings you here?”

“I'm looking for Ron. Have either of you seen him this evening?”

“Haven't seen him since Harry's birthday party. Have you, Fred?” George asked his
brother.

“Nope.”

“But…” Hermione did not like this, “But he told Harry that he's been coming here and helping
out at nights.”

They shrugged. “I don't know what to tell you,” Fred answered and George nodded in
agreement.

“But how about some Instant Darkness Powder?” One of them asked.

“Yes. We've fixed it so it can only be used with good intentions!”

“At least we think so, anyway.”

“We're nearly positive!”

“You know you've got a special discount anytime you'd like to use it, right?”

“I know, thanks. Have a good evening!” Hermione waved goodbye and exited the shop quickly,
turning into the small area beside and walking down the narrow walkway as the last of the sun's
rays left the horizon. Staring at her feet in thought and trying to figure out where Ron could
possibly be that he couldn't tell either of them, she moved along, no real speed behind the
action.

Just as she was considering using the Triptych to Apparate to him, Hermione bumped into a couple
in the middle of a deep snogging session. “Sorry,” she muttered as the couple pulled apart.

“Hermione?” an all-to-familiar voice asked in shock.

“RON?” Hermione turned around and looked up suddenly. In front of her, lit by the moonlight,
stood Ron and Luna, both embarrassingly disheveled. “What are you doing here?” When Ron
couldn't answer Hermione shook her head, “I mean, why aren't you helping Fred and
George's? I came looking for you, and…”

“Is something wrong?” he asked, concerned, as he straightened himself up, Luna doing the
same.

“No, nothing's wrong,” Hermione sighed, turning to Luna, “Hi.”

Luna smiled, “Hello.”

Hermione turned back to Ron, smacking him upside the head, “I love you, Ron, but…” suddenly
Hermione had a great headache, likely stress-induce, she thought to herself with a sigh, “Never
mind. We can talk later. Goodnight.” Turned to Luna she smiled, “It was nice to see you again.” She
Disapparated, landing in the front room, now Ginny free.

“How'd it go?” Harry opened his mouth to reply but Hermione interrupted him, “Actually, tell
me later. I don't think I can handling it right no.” She flopped down on the couch beside him,
resting her head on his shoulder.

“What is it, hon?” Harry asked.

“I found out what Ron's been doing.”

“What?”

“Snogging Luna.”

“You mean Luna Lovegood?”

“That's the one.”

“Are they serious?”

“I don't know. For all of the knowledge I have he may just be out snogging random girls in
the evenings and Luna was tonight's pick.”

“You know that's not how Ron is.”

Hermione sighed, “I know. Then again I didn't think Ron would lie to us about something like
this.” She turned and lay back, resting her head on his lap as he began running his hands through
her hair. “I'm so exhausted,” Harry nodded and she went on, “I mean, just with everything.
There's … so much right now. Ron has been lying to us for weeks about a girl. Everyday we are
learning to strategies to defeat Voldemort. You just discovered that you have healing powers, and
Ron is sometimes forced to feel it when I `want' you, as you put it. If that's not enough,
my best friend's little sister is lusting after the man I love, and later you can tell me all
about how *that* went. And then, hey, just for kicks, Draco Malfoy is staying with us as his
father, who killed his mother—who sent him to us—disowned him for not having the nerve to commit
murder.”

“Speaking of which, how do you suppose Lucius got out?” Harry asked as she stopped to take a
breath.

“Voldemort wanted him out. No more questions, okay? I'm not entirely sure I can handle
it.”

“Okay.”

Hermione kissed the back of his hand, “I'm so glad that I have you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

Just as Hermione was beginning to relax, Ron popped in, speaking immediately, “I am so sorry. I
never meant for you to find out like that.” He crouched in front of the couch, “You have every
right to be furious with me.”

Hermione exhaled softly, “I'm not furious with you, Ron. Just surprised. And a little
disappointed that you thought you had to lie.”

“I was just… worried what you would think I guess. I know you guys don't think much of
her.”

“That's not true,” Hermione said and Ron frowned in doubt, “Okay, I'll admit that I
think she's odd, but she's also put herself in danger for our sakes twice in the past two
years, and I can't ignore that. Do you really care about her?”

Ron shrugged as he sat, “I…I don't know.” Though he was looking at the carpet, his bright
red ears gave him away.

Hermione looked up at Harry and they shared a smile. “You know,” Harry said, “she could come
over here anytime if you want. Maybe she'd like to watch us train, help out a little.”

“Really?” Ron looked up, happy, “I think she'd like that. She's been wanting to spend
more time with me, seeing as school starts in a little over a week.”

His expression saddened a little at this and Hermione reached out her hand, “I'm sorry. That
can't be easy.”

Ron shrugged, sighing a bit, “No, but we both knew that it was going to happen.” He looked up at
Harry who was about to speak, “And don't even say it, Harry. I'm not going to ditch my best
friends as they face the fight of a lifetime because I miss my girlfriend. She's great, amazing
actually, and I care a lot about her, but I know where I belong. Besides,” he grinned, “you two
would be lost without me, and I might be able to convince McGonagall to let her visit on some of
the weekends.” He looked at them hopefully and they nodded.

“Just don't start taking Luna away from her studies, okay?” Hermione asked nodded in
response and she sat up, “Good. Well, I am in need of some relaxation so I'm going to take a
bath. I'm very happy for you, Ron.”

“Thanks,” he replied as she headed up the stairs, and then turned to Harry. “So how'd it go
with Ginny?”

Harry groaned and Ron chuckled, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, propping his legs up
on the table. “Well,” Harry began, “first off, I found her cornering Malfoy in the living room. You
see, Hermione and I had gone out for some fresh air after our session and I'd forgotten about
Ginny for a moment, to be honest. So, we weren't here when she found him.”

Ron smiled, “I hope Ginny gave him a third ear of something. Or boils. Boils would be good.”

“Not that he wouldn't deserve it,” Harry replied darkly, “but I stopped her. Figured
Hermione or Dobby would eventually have to heal the boils and that's just not fair. Plus,
Malfoy would make a big fuss out of it, the great baby that he is. He left, and after that Ginny
made the comment about you and how she didn't see you at the shop so Hermione went after
you.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, opening them again as he spoke, “Basically I started off by
asking her why she lied about Dean. To my surprise, she was actually honest, or I think so anyway.
Starts going off on how she'd hope it would make me jealous and about how much she's been
missing me. Obviously, I didn't let her go on too long. I apologized and told her that I
didn't return the feelings anymore, and that while what we had in the spring was great at the
time, it wouldn't be now.”

“I expected her to be furious. To be honest, it probably would have been better if she had been.
But do you know what she did? She told me that she understood; she wasn't okay with it, but she
understood. Then she started crying, and you know how I am around crying girls that aren't
Hermione.”

Ron laughed and shook his head, “You're not even that great when Hermione's crying.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, then sighed, “She left pretty soon after that. I felt rather horrible
though. Ginny has never really done anything bad to me, and I have to give her credit about being
pretty mature about it. I hope she finds someone else soon. That would be good.”

“I know that's the truth,” Ron said in agreement. They talked for a little longer and each
headed up to bed, bidding each other goodnight. Harry entered the room to find that Hermione was
still taking her bath. He sat on the bed alone for a few moments, then crossed the room and knocked
on the door gently.

“Yes?” Hermione asked.

“Are you almost done?”

“I was planning on staying in a bit longer,” she admitted.

“Can I come in?”

She didn't say anything for a few moments, “No.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, hurt a little.

“Well, I just…I don't exactly have my swimsuit on right now, Harry.”

Harry pushed past the lovely mental image she had just given him, “Hermione, it's just been
a long day and I'd really like some company. I know that you've got bubbles going and I
promise I will just sit on the floor.”

She seemed to be thinking, “…Okay, you can come in. The door's unlocked.”

Harry pushed open the door and walked in, sitting next to the bathtub, where Hermione lay under
a sea of magical bubbles enchanted not to fade, her head resting on an inflatable pillow and her
arms crossed over the chest despite the fact that Harry couldn't possibly see anything anyway.
“Hi,” he said, propping his elbows up on his knees and leaning his head against the wall, closing
his eyes.

“Hey,” she replied, relaxing a little, “what's bugging you?”

“Malfoy.”

“Why, did he do something?”

“No,” Harry replied, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose, “and that's
exactly the problem. I don't trust him Hermione.”

“I know.”

“But you seem to,” he added after a moment.

Hermione turned, surprised and puzzled, “What's that suppose to mean?”

Harry opened his eyes, putting his glasses back on before sitting up straight, “Why are you
being so nice to him, Hermione?”

“I'm not! I just…”

“You just what? It's Draco Malfoy, Hermione! Have you suddenly forgotten all of the horrible
things he's done?”

“No, I haven't, Harry, it's just that…” she stopped talking as Harry stood.

“It doesn't matter. I'm… I'm going to go to bed.” Harry walked out, closing the door
behind him.

When Hermione came out of the bathroom Harry was sitting in bed, already changed into his pajama
bottoms. Also in her nightclothes, Hermione padded over and got up on the bed, sitting in front of
him. For a minute they just stared at each other, then she finally spoke, “I don't want us to
be fighting.”

“Me neither.”

“Especially over Malfoy.”

“I know that you just want to help him, Hermione, and it's great that you can do that. You
wouldn't be you if you didn't,” Harry admitted.

“But it's still not okay for me to be treating him so well after all he's done to us. I
suppose I just thought I could fix him or something,” she replied, “I want you to know that I
haven't forgotten what he's done to us,” Hermione told him. “And you're not going to
find us playing a game of cards anytime soon. I guess I believed that if he wasn't really that
bad or that it wasn't his fault he was so bad, I could find a reason for why he's done
everything he's done.”

“I get it. It's just that…” Harry sighed, “I *really* don't like him,
Hermione.”

“I know,” Hermione said, joining him at his side and lacing her arms around him as he placed one
on her shoulder. She smiled, “But I have to say that getting the chance to kick his butt felt quite
nice.”

Harry chuckled as he turned the lights out, “I bet it did. I'd like the same
opportunity.”

Just then, a knock came at their door. “Come in,” Hermione called.

The door opened and revealed Ron and Draco. They walked in, Ron shutting the door behind them as
Draco hovered near him. “He says he's got something to tell us,” Ron began bluntly.

Harry and Hermione got up out of the bed, Harry pulling a shirt over his head on the way, and
walked over to them. “And that would be…” Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You asked me if I would like to take an active role in this or something behind the scenes, and
I decided to take the more active route,” Draco answered, abnormally without his usual sneer.

The three stared at him in silence for several moments, all having expected him to stay behind
the scenes. “So…” Ron started, the first to find his voice, “what does this mean?”

“This means…” Hermione said, looking at Harry and knowing he was thinking the same thing.

Harry nodded to her, “This means that a change of plans is in order.”

~*~

“We have a proposal,” Hermione said at lunch the next day as the three of them, Malfoy, Tonks,
Lupin, Gretta, and even Professor McGonagall sat at the table. “While I can understand our
necessity for intense training, I believe it would also be advisable for us to spend our time doing
other things.”

“Such as?” Gretta asked, clearly able to see that Hermione had been thinking about this.

“Research. We still have four Horcruxes to find, remember…”

At the mention of the Horcruzes the adults all looked at Draco, who shrugged, “I already knew
about them. My dad helped to hide on of them, back when he was the Dark Lord's right-hand
man.”

They all relaxed a bit and Hermione continued speaking, “There's also some definite shady
areas in relation to Voldemort's past, especially in relation to what all went on the weeks
leading up to…well, up to that night.”

“But we already know what happened, don't we?” Tonks asked, “Dumbledore's told all of it
in bits and pieces at some point or another. There was the prophecy and Snape and Pettigrew…”

“You may be right,” Harry said, “But clearly Dumbledore didn't know everything, or I imagine
that he might have let on at some point that my mum was pregnant.”

Ron nodded in agreement, having spent the morning discussing this with his two best friends, “If
he didn't know about that how can we know that there aren't other things he ever knew
about?

“So what do you have in mind?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“We will continue our workouts and tactical training in the mornings and earlier afternoon,
having a late lunch at one or so,” Hermione began.

“Then in the afternoon, Ron and I will use our aliases to get information from the other side,”
Harry said, “Malfoy has consented to give us some good starting locations, and we already have a
connection with the store clerk at Borgin and Burkes. From what we've been able to tell the
only other ticket in is money…”

“And Merlin knows Harry's got enough of that,” Ron added.

Professor McGonagall sighed, “I don't suppose I need to tell you how dangerous this could
be,” they shook their heads, “And I expect you know by now that you will need to err on the side of
caution?” They both nodded. “Well then, what are you two going to do in the afternoons?” she asked
Hermione and Draco.

“Tonks and I will help catch Draco up on the basic skills, and then I will also be doing
research on Horcruxes, Voldemort, anything I can get my hands on. We will also be doing background
checks on wizards and witches that Harry and Ron come into contact with, as well as supplying
supply any information on magical objects and such or any other thing that should come up as they
are out.” It had been decided that Hermione should help Malfoy seeing as she was the least likely
to kill him in the process. “I'm also going to get back to my tests and experiments. I think
any tool that we can have that they don't is vital.”

“Definitely,” Tonks replied with a nod.

“This is all nicely thought out,” Professor McGonagall said, “But I do have a couple of
suggestions that I would like you to take to heart. Misters Potter and Weasley should not go out
every afternoon, and never to the same location more than once a week. If they start showing up too
often Voldemort is bound to notice something for sure. Also, try to get some help from Fred and
George Weasley on the experimenting, seeing as it is their one area of expertise if you exclude
causing trouble.”

“Yes ma'am,” Hermione replied with a respectful nod, Harry and Ron as well.

“Good. If that it is all, then, I must excuse myself to get back to the school,” Professor
McGonagall stood, Gretta as well.

“I should be getting back there, as well,” she said, “I need to work on my lesson plans for the
fifth and seventh years, yet.”

“Lesson plans?” Ron asked, “You're teaching at Hogwarts?”

Gretta nodded, “Didn't I tell you that?” They all shook their heads, “Oh, forgive me. Yes, I
am teaching all years of Potions and Transfiguration for the first and second years.”

“I'll be continuing to teach the upper grades,” McGonagall added.

Hermione looked at Gretta, concerned, “That's quite a lot of work isn't it?”

“Yes, it is,” Gretta agreed, “But there is a definite shortage of teachers this year, and I am
willing to help out as necessary.”

“Who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?” Harry asked, curious.

The headmaster sighed, “Wouldn't I like to know? I have a few more prospects to look at this
week. Hopefully one will turn out.” After a few more exchanged words she and Gretta left.

“Right then,” Tonks said as they began cleaning up their dishes, “Am I to assume that this new
plan won't be going into effect until tomorrow?”

“That's correct,” Hermione answered.

“Good. Then I suggest we do some tests on Malfoy to see where he lies with skill. Come on,
then.” She led them up to the attic.

“How are you going to test me?” Draco asked cautiously.

Tonks shrugged, then looked between the three of them, pondering something. Finally her eyes
rested on Harry, “I want you to fight Malfoy. Give him his wand.”

Hermione and Ron grinned as Harry almost laughed in disbelief, “Seriously?”

Draco scowled, “Don't be so cocky, Potter.”

Harry shrugged indifferently, handing over Malfoy's wand, clearly trying not to let him get
to him, “At least I've got the skill to back my attitude up. All you ever had was back-up
thugs.”

“Please. Crabbe and Goyle couldn't kill a spider.”

“Neither can you, from what I've learned this past week.”

That struck a nerve as each of their faces turned to stone. Tonks, Ron, and Hermione backed away
as the rivals began circling each other, both waiting to see who would make the first move.
Hermione could tell that Tonks was observing Malfoy closely, watching his reactions. They all knew
that Malfoy would act first, if only because Harry knew better then to start offensively.

They were right, of course. After several long moments, Malfoy send a simple jinx at Harry,
which was avoided and reflected with ease. Draco conjured a shield and this time Harry simply let
the jinx go past him. “You're going to have to try harder than that,” he told him.

“I know how to fight, Pothead.”

“Really? How surprising, considering you haven't been able to develop any new insults in the
last six years. Am I to assume that Ron and Hermione's nicknames continue to be Mudblood and
Weasel?” he took a quick moment to glance apologetically at Hermione.

“I haven't called either of them that since I got here.”

“Only because when you called Hermione's family Mudbloods I sent you flying into a
wall.”

The almost light banter continued as jinxes and curses were sent, mostly from Malfoy. Harry
repelled everything with an air of ease, causing Ron, Hermione, and Tonks to chuckle with each
other on more than one occasion. If Draco planned to show them that he possessed any real skill he
was going to have to step it up a notch.

Suddenly the fight took a turn, all talking coming to a stop as Harry began tapping into his
other powers, placing Malfoy on the defense for a change. When something finally pushed him over
the top, no one could ever remember what Harry had done, he stared at Harry angrily, “Crucio!”

The spell it Harry dead on, but it did nothing, unless one were to count the fury emanating from
everyone in the room. Harry raised a hand and lifted Draco in the air, pulling him towards him.
“What the hell to you think you're doing?”

Malfoy sighed, “I wasn't thinking. I told you that they only teach us to use those when
fighting. Why didn't it do anything?” he asked, then it dawned on him as Harry tiredly set him
down, “Right, the Triptych. So you're the hand, then?”

“Yes,” Harry replied through gritted teeth as Hermione placed a calming hand on his forearm.
“Malfoy… I swear… if you ever even consider using an Unforgivable again…”

“You'll what?” he asked in a tone that he could not support.

“I'll…” Harry tore away from Hermione, walking away from them with gritted teeth and
grabbing what had been now labeled The Chair. “I'll tell you what I'll do…” he started
mumbling to himself, though they could easily hear him. “I'll…I'll just…” He picked up the
chair and threw it so close to Draco's head that his hair moved in response, then pulled it
back with magical force and bashed it into his knee. Harry sighed, looking up at Malfoy, who was
sufficiently stunned, “Got it?”

Draco nodded numbly as Harry stormed out of the attic, Hermione only pausing to glare at Malfoy
before taking off after him. Tonks left not long after, leaving only Ron with him. “Do you,” Draco
started to ask, “Do you really think he'd do that?”

Ron shrugged as he put The Chair back together, “I suppose it would depend. If he was in a bad
mood it would probably be much worse. And, well…”

“And what?”

Ron looked at him as if he was the stupidest person on earth, “And if you used it on any of the
three of us, especially Hermione, you could just consider yourself a dead man.”

Draco scoffed, “What makes Granger so special? Just because she lets him stick his tongue down
her throat she's of great importance?”

Ron rolled his eyes as he began to leave, then turned around as he reached the door. “You know,
Malfoy, I never thought I'd say this, but I almost feel sorry for you. It must be pretty sad to
be such a prat that you don't understand a concept like love.” He had almost made it out the
door when Draco stopped him.

~*~

Hermione found Harry in the study, sitting at one of the desks and staring at nothing, his
breath still a bit ragged. She took a seat next to him and placed her hand on his, saying
nothing.

“I want to hurt him so much, Hermione,” Harry said after a moment, “I want to hurt him so much
that sometimes it scares me. I don't know how he does it, but somehow…”

Hermione nodded, “It makes sense.”

“I shouldn't let him get to me like that. Even I know that it's just habit for him to
use it, but…it's such a horrible feeling, and for a moment I had forgotten about the
Triptych's protection, and I prepared for the pain and…” Harry's face screwed up into a
tight grimace and Hermione wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder when
suddenly a yell sounded from upstairs, causing them to split apart and Apparate out of the
room.

~*~

“Take it back, Weasley!” Draco said as he held Ron against the wall, having already taken his
wand.

“Take what back?” Ron asked, surprised by the sudden assault.

“You know what you said!” Draco roared as Hermione and Harry popped in, pulling them apart.

“What the hell are you doing?” Hermione exclaimed at Draco.

Harry crossed his arms, “For someone who says he wants to fight on our side you show it in a
really strange way.”

Draco was seething as he pursed his lips and shook his head back and forth, his cheeks flushed
with anger as he looked up at Ron. They all paused, waiting for him to say something. Finally he
spoke directly at Ron, “You can call me a prat all you want, Weasley,” he said, his tone very
controlled and low, “Even I'll admit that I am an asshole. But…” he blew air through his teeth
before continuing, “don't you ever say that I don't understand what love is again.”

Ron looked at him, confused, “Is that why you're upset? Why does it matter?”

Malfoy stamped his foot a little, clearly on the brink of explosion, “It *matters* because,
in case you've forgotten, my mother is *dead* because of love, you idiot!” He yelled the
last words, grabbing The Chair and smashing it into his knee, just has Harry had done minutes ago,
then turned to Harry, “And *that* was without fancy super powers.” With that, he handed
Hermione his and Ron's wands, then calmly, a bit rushed, left the room.

Harry and Hermione turned to Ron, who stood shocked. “What did you say to him?” Harry asked with
surprise.

“I don't remember. He made some comment about you two and I just said that I felt a little
sorry for him, not understand love. I wasn't even trying to bug him; how was I supposed to know
that he'd get all touchy about it?”

Hermione sighed and lied down on her back, unconsciously putting The Chair back together. “We
can't keep doing this. He's never going to really fight on our side until we can all get on
each other. Not like each other, necessarily, but… we've got to get past this.”

Harry and Ron sighed, lying down on either side of her. “How are we supposed to do that?” Ron
asked.

Hermione shrugged, “I don't know. To be honest I don't know what to think about him yet.
But…I think that we'll have to do whatever it is that needs to be done first.”

“I don't want to,” Harry said, “I want him to just go away.”

“I second that,” Ron added.

Hermione exhaled softly, “Yes, I do suppose that would be easier.”

Outside the attic, Draco stood silently, not knowing where he wanted to go, when suddenly
someone ran into him. He looked up to see Ginny Weasley staring back at him. “What are you doing
here?” they asked at the same time.

“I sort of live here,” Draco replied, “What's your excuse?”

Ginny held up a handkerchief, “I came to return this to Harry.” She squinted at him, “Are
you…have you been *crying*?”

Malfoy blinked rapidly in an attempt to soothe his bloodshot eyes, “No. This house is just
dusty. Makes my eyes water.”

Ginny didn't seem like she believed him but simply shrugged, “Well, good then. I really
don't feel like dealing with seeing a person I hate crying. Are they in here?” she asked,
pointing to the attic door.

Draco just nodded, walking away.

“So what's the deal?” she asked him, causing him to stop.

“What deal?” he asked in return, annoyed.

Ginny scowled at his rude tone, “I was just wondering why you would come here, a place where you
are clearly unwanted.”

“Yeah, well,” Malfoy shrugged indifferently as he continued walking away, “The places where
I'm unwanted seem to be just about everywhere these days.”

Ginny watched him go, then turned and entered the attic, finding the trio lying on the floor,
“Am I interrupting?”

They all sat up at the sound of her voice. “No,” Harry answered, “Did you need something?”

“I just came to return this to you,” Ginny replied, handing him the clean handkerchief.

“Oh,” Harry took the cloth from her outstretched hand, “Er…okay. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Ginny stood there stiffly, as if not sure if she could leave.

“Hey, Gin?” Hermione asked, standing up.

“Yes?”

“Do you want to come have some tea with me? Dobby makes it really sweet,” Hermione told her as
she headed to the door.

Ginny smiled, relaxing a bit, “Okay, sure. Thank you.” She walked through the door and Harry
attempted to get Hermione's attention.

*Relax*, Hermione's voice sounded in his head, throwing him off a bit. Harry watched
her walk out with Ginny and then slumped back to the floor. “I think I need to go hit my head into
a wall a few times.”

Ron grinned, “Why is that?”

Harry sighed, “Ginny is acting like a normal human being again and now my girlfriend is having
tea with my ex-girlfriend who doesn't know that I'm dating my best friend. And hey, just to
top it off, Hermione just did what I think constitutes as telepathy, and you know what's
worse?”

“What?”

Harry sat back up, “I wasn't even surprised that she did it!”

Ron laughed, “I know what you need mate, and it's not to smack your head into a wall.”

“And that would be…”

All Ron did in response was smile, “C'mon. We're going to have a little visit with my
brothers.”

~*~

When Harry and Ron got back home, Ginny was long gone and Hermione was sitting in the living
room, reading. “Where have you two been?” she asked curiously at the sight of them.

Harry laughed as Ron began wondering up the stairs, running into the wall twice, “Ron thought I
could use a drink, but, well, as you can see…”

“So many stars!” Ron shouted from the hallway and Harry chuckled.

“I think he means stairs. I'm going to go make sure he doesn't kill himself on the way
to his room.”

Harry came out of Ron's room to find Hermione waiting for him. He took her hands in her and
they head up the stairs. “Did you have anything to drink?” Hermione asked.

“I had a butterbeer. You think I'm stupid enough to get smashed when I'm in the middle
of training, let alone know that I'm coming home to you?”

Hermione smiled despite herself, smacking him lightly. “It's not like I own you, Harry,” she
told him as they entered the bedroom.

“Yes, you do,” Harry replied, pulling her into a kiss, “But I really don't mind at all.”

“Liar.”

Harry gasped and put a hand over his heart, “That hurts. I never lie to the women I love.”

Hermione sat on the bed and crossed her arms, “There are others?”

“Oh yes,” Harry told her with a grin as he sat next to her, “Tonks as captured my heart.”

“Oh really…” Hermione replied softly as she leaned back on the bed, “And how does Remus feel
about this.”

“He doesn't know. She refuses to leave him for me.”

Hermione sighed and he lay back as well, leaning over her and placing gentle kisses on her skin.
“Maybe she doesn't really love you.”

Harry's fingers began to trace lines under her shirt as he whispered in her ear, “That's
a horrible thing for you to say.”

“It's just another reason…” Hermione tried to regain her thoughts as she became rather
distracted, “Another reason to love me more than her.”

His hands were searching her bra now, “I already do.” She gasped as he found the clasp, but then
laughed a little as he clearly couldn't work it, cursing mostly to himself, “Damnit.”

Hermione lifted her head and kissed him, then sat up and reached under her shirt, unhooking the
material and pulling it off and out through her sleeve as Harry watched in awe. She smiled a little
and scooted back on the bed, pulling him with her, “Where were we?”

Harry blinked a few times, “I think I've forgotten.” He began to kiss her again, his hands
hesitantly moving under her shirt. As his kisses continued to warm her skin, she unconsciously
reached down, pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it, lifting her head to kiss his
chest, her hands touching his abdomen and making him shiver.

“What is it?” she asked.

Harry smiled and shook his head, “Your hands are just cold.”

“Right,” Hermione blushed as Harry kissed her fingertips, “Sorry, I just...”

Harry shut her up with his mouth on hers, his tongue instantly tangling with her own as his
hands went back to their former ministrations, causing Hermione to give an involuntary moan as his
fingers reached the curve of her breast. His other hand reached down and tugged at her shirt,
forcing them apart for only a moment before their lips reclaimed each other as the shirt was flung
through the air.

They lay their, spooning, for an unknown amount of time, eventually lying next to each other and
breathing to the rhythm of soft kisses, soon lulling themselves to sleep.

~*~

A/N: Thanks to Lady Starlight, who took time away from her family just to beta this. I'm
extremely grateful. I am sorry to say that this is my last chapter for two or three weeks I
believe, with the holidays and all. That said, I will try to get you the next chapter ASAP and will
then be back into my usual swing of things.

I hope you all have a Merry Christmas!!! (Or any other holiday that you may celebrate, but even
if you don't celebrate Christmas, I hope you have a good day on the 25th just the
same!) :)

-->



18. Long Day
------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Rating: R (for later chapters and generally just incase)

Disclaimer: The character will only see me late at night on dark street corners where JKR
won't find us. It's a horrible state that we live in, for we love each other so, but in the
end, it is JKR that they belong to. Curse you, copyrights!!!

A/N: Sorry it took so long.

~*~

Chapter 18: Long Day

“Where's Malfoy?” Hermione asked as she sat down at the breakfast table the next
morning.

Ron yawned loudly and Harry shrugged in response, “Beats me.”

“He really should be up with us. Tonks will be here in fifteen minutes.”

Ron started mumbling to himself as he rest his head in his arms on the table, “If you want him
up you can go wake him.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as Malfoy walked into the kitchen. “You know,” Hermione said with a
sigh, “hangovers really don't suit you, Ronald.”

Ron turned helplessly to Harry, whining, “Make her stop talking.”

Harry smiled at Hermione across the table, “Okay, but I only know one way to do that and it may
just give you more of a headache.” Hermione blushed.

“Hey Weasley,” Malfoy said as he took a seat next to Hermione.

Ron looked up at Draco like a foreign creature, “Seriously?” he turned to Hermione,
“*He's* talking to me right now?”

Draco shrugged, “I was merely wondering if you would like a hangover potion before training
starts.” The three looked at Draco in surprise as he went on, “I asked Dobby to make one last night
after I heard you running into every wall in the house.”

“*Why*?” Ron asked.

“How does Dobby know how to make a hangover potion?” Hermione quizzed.

“After what I've told you, do you actually believe there was a shortage of drunk people in
my house growing up? I just don't fancy listening to Weasley whine all morning, alright? I find
him quite annoying as it is.”

Harry and Hermione watched Ron with interest until he finally sighed, “Okay. Bring on the
potion.”

Instantly Dobby popped in holding a steaming goblet, “Drink the whole thing, Master Wheezy!” Ron
nodded and took the goblet from the little elves hands, he winced a bit as he gulped down all of
it, and then slammed it on the table.

“That has got to be the worst thing I've ever tasted.”

“Even worse than Polyjuice Potion?” Harry inquired.

Ron pondered this for a moment, “No, not worse than Polyjuice, I suppose. Man, that stuff was
*disgusting*.” None of them bothered responding to Malfoy's curious glances.

“Oh,” Ron said, turning to Hermione as he appeared to have remembered something, “I had Remus
tell Luna where we are, you know, with the protection charms and all. She may be stopping by this
afternoon before Harry and I get back.”

Hermione nodded, “Okay.”

“Hello, all!” came Tonks' bright and cheery voice far too early in the morning, “Ready for
training?”

They nodded and followed her up to the attic, but Hermione stopped Harry before either of them
entered, telling the other three, “Go on ahead, we'll be right up!”

“What is it?” Harry asked.

Hermione fixed him with a stare, “Quit it.”

Harry merely smiled innocently, “Quit what?”

“You know exactly what, Harry Potter. Stop it.”

“I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, darling.”

Hermione let out a hollow laugh, “Now is so not the time for pet names. Quit looking at me like
that!”

“Like what?” Harry persisted with a grin.

Hermione looked around to make sure no one else was there before exclaiming in a hushed tone,
“Like you've seen me topless!”

Harry simply continued to smile as he bent down a little so he was at eye-level with her, “But I
*have* seen you topless.”

“Yes, I'm fully aware of that,” she paused and then simply smirked at him, “Fine, go ahead
and continue to look at me like that all day.” Harry waited a moment for the rest, “Just be sure to
engrave that lovely mental picture you have in your memory for eternity, because if you don't
quit it, that's all you will have for a *very* long time. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded, “I'll stop.”

Hermione let go of her tension, “Good. Thank you.”

Harry bent and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, “You're cute when you're angry.” He
smiled and walked off.

Despite the annoyance Hermione was positive she should feel at such a demeaning statement, she
blushed with a smile and followed him to the attic.

~*~

“Be safe,” Hermione told Harry with a warning glance, “I swear if either of you come home with
one scratch you will never leave this house again.”

Harry nodded and gave her a quick kiss, “We'll be good.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Alright then,” Hermione gave them each a quick one-armed hug, “Best get going then.” She
watched as they each gave her a quick wave and then popped out.

“So what do we do now?” Malfoy asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Now I desperately attempt to catch you up with us, despite how
impossible the task may be.”

“Are you saying you can't do it?” he asked, egging her on.

She stopped abruptly, turning to face him. “There is nothing I can't do.” With that, she
turned and led him the rest of the way up the stairs.

“You've got to think more creatively,” Hermione told him later that afternoon, “It's not
enough to use the standard jinxes and curses that they use in school. You've got to know
others, and you've got to have a plan when firing them.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, rubbing his butt like a wounded deer after being knocked on the
ground yet again.

Hermione thought for a moment, “Let's say you just managed to expel my wand, sending it
across the room. What's the best thing to do next?”

“Stupefy you?”

“No,” Hermione said, shaking her head, “*Stupefy* has a very narrow path, meaning that,
even without my wand, I could easily dodge it, so the only way you would hit me is by attempting to
anticipate my movements, and by that time I might have already reached my wand.”

“So what would I do?”

“Something at my legs, probably, such as a Jelly Legs Jinx. This would limit my movement,
keeping me from my wand and allowing you to incapacitate me.”

They began dueling again, and Hermione allowed him to expel her wand, but as he uttered the
jinx, she summoned a table from across the room, putting it in the spell's path.

Draco threw his hands up in the air, aggravated, “What did you do that for?”

“What do you mean, what did I do that for? I was defending myself,” she replied as she restored
the table to its original condition.

“But you told me to the Jelly Legs Jinx!”

“That was an example. Do you think your opponent is not going to defend themselves?”

Malfoy opened his mouth to argue but a soft pop announced the arrival of Luna. “Hello. Am I
interrupting?”

“Yes.”

“*No*,” Hermione said with a pointed look at Malfoy, “Of course not.” She turned to Draco,
her arms crossed, “I think we're about done here today anyway. I want you to get started on a
list of all of the Death Eaters, former and current, that you know of. I want any information on
them that you can give me.”

“What do you mean by any information?” he asked, irritated.

“I mean any information. You know, how do you know them, how close are they to Voldemort, are
they in prison, are they married, how old are they, what are their jobs for him, any interesting
facts or stories involving them, have you slept with any of their daughters…any and all information
you have on them.”

“Pardon?”

Hermione ignored him and went on, “I'll check on you later to see how much you've done.
If your progress is not sufficient, we can find something besides training to do tomorrow
afternoon.”

He rolled his eyes, “What are you going to do if I refuse?”

After realizing that he was in fact not joking, Hermione simply crossed her arms, watching as he
was pinned to the nearest wall by The Chair and enjoying only a little that she could do such a
thing with no visible movement. Slowly she walked up to him, “You have a few choices. I can let you
down and you can act like a civilized human being - something that is a struggle for you, I know,
but I am confidant you can handle it - or you can stay here until Harry and Ron get home and I will
simply let them deal with you.”

Malfoy rolled is eyes again, “Oh, so you're sending your big-bad boyfriend after me, are
you?”

Hermione had to give Luna some credit. She simply stood and watched the scene with detached
interest; she was silent, observant, and making no reactions whatsoever. Taking a calming breath,
Hermione stopped her slow strides, standing in front of Draco. “Why are you doing this?” she asked,
an eyebrow lifted.

“Doing what?”

Hermione sighed, “You say that you want to help us. I don't know if that's because you
want revenge for your mother's death or if you simply want to save your arse. I do know that
it's not because you suddenly have seen the light and want to change sides. Yet, you continue
to contradict yourself.”

“Like how?”

“Like nearly killing Ron because he made some off-hand comment about love. Why do you have to
prove that you know anything, let alone about that? What's more, why do you have to prove it to
*us*, the people you probably hate the most in the entire universe?”

Draco seemed puzzled, “I…”

“And then you act surprised when we insult you,” Hermione added, “As if you shouldn't expect
or deserve such treatment from us.”

“Perhaps he simply doesn't know any better,” Luna interjected, focusing briefly on Draco
before resuming her study of the attic.

Draco glanced at her perplexedly, before starting in again. “Look Granger…”

“That, right there!” she exclaimed, “Then, after all this hurt, but-oh-I-am-a-good-guy crap, you
refer to us just as always, and then constantly contradict our requests and orders.” Hermione
leaned against the wall next to him, “I think we've established that none of us trust you, but
despite that, we are trying to make the best of the situation we have been given. You say
that's what you're trying to do; yet, your actions don't display that. So what is it
you want, Draco?”

He looked at her; seeming to have an internal battle waging, “Let me down, *please*.”

Hermione sighed, and then let him down, “What is it that you want?”

Draco smiled, a sick smile, then pinned her up against the wall, “You.”

Too surprised by his actions, Hermione stared up at him, “I beg your pardon?”

“You, Granger. I want *you*.”

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, rendered speechless and utterly brain dead by the
repulsive thought as he ran a hand threw her hair.

Then he laughed.

*Laughed*.

Malfoy let her go, chuckling to himself as he began walking away, “Had you going for a minute,
didn't I?”

Hermione's thought came rushing back as she started using her lungs again, and the first
thought was that she wanted to kill him. She stared at him venomously, “Where on earth do you get
the gall to even…”

He turned around, smirking, “Look, you don't have to get your knickers in a twist just
because I don't cooperate with your every demand. I said I want to help and I will. If our
places were reversed I'm positive that you wouldn't easily do everything I asked of
you.”

Hermione continued to stare at him, seething, “You…” she began walking towards him, holding her
magic in tight check, “are the most infuriating person that I have ever…”

“Oh come on,” Malfoy continued to egg her on, “I think we both know you liked it. There's no
reason to get upset just because Potter isn't enough for-” He was abruptly cut off, and
Hermione turned to see Luna standing with her wand raised, appearing rather uninterested.

Luna shrugged in response to Hermione's questioning glance, “He's got a rather annoying
voice, doesn't he? All low and scratchy, but certainly not in that sexy way that Ron and Harry
possess, don't you think?”

Hermione nodded, not entirely sure how to react to Luna's, however accurate, bluntness. She
turned her attention to Draco; walking up to him and punching him square in the jaw, then grabbing
him by his blonde hair. Hermione stared down at his face, “Are you a virgin, Malfoy?”

He shook his head violently, and she went on, her voice cold and flat, “Yes, I suppose you
wouldn't be, with a cocky attitude like that. Right, well, if you ever do anything at all like
the stunt you just pulled again, you may rest assured that sex will no longer be an option for you
with anyone, do I make myself clear?” She turned to Luna, “You can let him talk now.” Luna nodded
and flicked her wand.

Hermione let go of Malfoy and he stood upright again, looking at her as if she was certifiably
insane. “Fine,” he muttered after a moment.

“Good. Now please go work on that list. I will check your progress later.”

Draco nodded a little, clearly just wanting to get as far away from either of them as possible.
He had no sooner than left the attic when Harry and Ron popped in looking rather tired
themselves.

“Hey,” Harry said, walking up to Hermione as Ron greeted Luna. “How was your afternoon?”

“Vile,” Hermione replied as he wrapped an arm around her and they walked out of the attic,
giving Ron and Luna some time alone.

“That bad?” Harry asked, though clearly not doubting it.

Hermione nodded, “Did you get any useful information?”

Harry shrugged, opening the door to the room, “We got a few leads, but I doubt that any of them
will lead us anywhere important. I have a feeling that it's going to take a long time to find
out anything.”

“Yes, you're probably right. Patience will be key. And, you know, I was thinking, perhaps I
should go along occasionally, so no one gets suspicious should I ever suddenly show up. I mean,
I'm supposed to be your sister and all. People would expect me to be there.”

Harry smiled as they sat on the bed, “You just don't want to hang out with Malfoy all
afternoon.”

Hermione crossed her arms, lying back in the mattress, “Well, honestly, can you blame me?”

“No, of course not. But maybe,” Harry told her with a grin as he lay back as well, “I could help
you take your mind off it.”

As he began to kiss her Hermione shifted away a bit. “Er, sorry Harry, but not right now,
okay?”

Harry quit immediately, turning to his side and propping himself up on his elbow, “Okay…May I
ask why?”

Hermione sighed, not entirely she should tell him, “Malfoy made a pass at me earlier.”

“He WHAT?” Harry exclaimed, sitting up.

Hermione sat up as well, “Yes, well, apparently he was joking, the great prat, but…” she
shuddered, “It just gave me the creeps, that's all, alright?”

“No!” Harry said, shaking his head, “There is nothing right about it! What did he do?”

“It doesn't matter, Harry. I took care of it, and if he knows what's good for him he
won't try anything like that again. Can we please just try to forget about it?”

Harry sighed, “I don't like this. What if he had tried to do more than make a pass at
you?”

“I highly doubt that…”

“It's Malfoy, Hermione. As far as I'm concerned, there is nothing he won't do,
especially when it comes to doing things that will piss me off.”

Hermione nodded, “You're right. But still, Harry, you've seen me fight him. If he were
to try and do anything more than what he did this afternoon he would not be conscious right
now.”

“Just…be careful, okay?”

“Okay.” Hermione smiled, “Look at you, so protective of me.”

Harry shrugged, “That's nothing new, is it?”

“I suppose not. You've just never really been so blatantly obvious about it before.”

“Does it make me more appealing?” Harry asked with his nose in the air.

Hermione laughed, “Oh yes. You are just reeking of perfect boyfriend material right now.”

“Do you know what your perfect boyfriend wants more than anything right now?”

“What?”

“Food. I'm starving.”

“Well then, let's see what we can do about that, shall we?” Hermione took his arm and led
him down to the kitchen, where Ron and Luna were already eating.

“Luna says that Ginny might stop by later tonight and informed me of your exciting afternoon. I
wanted to strangle him, but Luna…convinced me otherwise,” he finished, his ears beginning to turn
red.

“I merely reminded him that there were much more enjoyable activities than bothering with
Malfoy,” Luna stated matter-of-factly.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and grinned, trying not to laugh. They turned to their
food, which effectively ended conversation.

After awhile, they all left the table, going their separate ways. Harry and Hermione headed up
to their room while Ron and Luna headed to the den.

It was around eight o'clock when Ginny showed up.

“Hello?” she called softly in the empty foyer, “Is anyone home?” She heard something in the
kitchen and wandered in that direction, setting her things down in the hall. “Oh,” she stated once
there, “it's just you.”

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Yeah, *just* me. Is there a problem with that?”

Ginny put her hands on her hips, “Actually, yes, there is. You wouldn't happen to know where
Harry is, would you?”

“Do I look like Potter's babysitter?”

“It was just a simple question. You don't have to get so defensive.”

“He's probably in his room.”

“Could you tell me where that is?”

Malfoy looked up at her, trying to see if she was kidding. When he saw she was not he sighed
heavily and stood, “Follow me.”

“Thank you.”

“Whatever.”

He led her up to the room, “There.” He was just turning to go when the door opened, revealing
Hermione.

“Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed in surprised, “What are you doing here?” Harry stood in the
background, hoping that Hermione could come up with something.

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly in response, turning to Draco and handing him a book, “You need
to read this before we can do any more real training. It covers basic dueling techniques and ways
to trick your opponent. Do you have your list ready?”

He nodded, looking at the book as he moved it in his hands, “But not all of it.”

Hermione bit her lip, “Is it in your room?” Malfoy nodded. “Okay, well, let me come see what
you've got so far.” She turned to Harry and Ginny, “I'll be back in a bit.” They nodded and
she left with Draco.

“So,” Harry said, turning to Ginny, but carefully standing in the doorway, “What are you doing
here?”

“I…well, actually I have a bit of a favor to ask of you three, but mainly you. Could I come in a
moment?” she asked.

“Er…” Harry racked his brain for an excuse, “I'd prefer if you didn't. The room's a
terrible mess.”

Ginny shrugged, “I'm sure it's nothing I can't handle, having six brothers and
all.”

“I just think it would be rude and all…”

“Hermione was just in there and you didn't care.”

“Well, Hermione's used to the mess though, you know, seeing as she lives here and all
and…comes to borrow books all of the time.”

“Harry, this is silly,” Ginny said, smiling, “Could we please just talk for a moment? I swear I
will pass no judgment.”

Harry sighed, “Fine, but wait out here for a minute so I can tidy things up, alright?”

Ginny laughed, “If you insist. I'll sit right here.” She instantly flopped onto the ground,
looking up at him expectantly, “Well, go on then.”

Not needing any further push, Harry instantly closed the door and looked at his and
Hermione's actually surprisingly clean room, considering they were both teenagers. Looking
around, Harry immediately began to grab anything in sight that was Hermione's, stuffing it in
drawers, apologizing to her mentally. After checking the room a couple of times, he walked back to
the door and opened it, “Okay, it's all clear now.”

Taking his outstretched hand, Ginny pulled herself up and followed him in, taking a seat in one
of the two chairs by the table. “So about why I came here…”

“Yes?” Harry asked, taking a seat next to her.

Ginny fidgeted a bit, “I…I'm just going to say it.” She took a deep breath before plunging
in, speaking very fast, “Mum's driving me absolutely bonkers and if it's alright I would
like to stay here with you three for a few days before I go back to school.”

Harry stared at her for a few moments, blinking. Of all the things that he expected to come out
of her mouth, that was the last phrase he would have imagined. “Seriously?”

Ginny nodded a bit nervously, “If it's okay.”

“Well…I er…I think I should ask Ron and Hermione what they think. Would you mind waiting here a
moment?” She had barely nodded by the time he was out the door and running down to den.

He heard talking and saw that Ron and Luna had moved up to Ron's room. He stuck his head in
the door, “Ron! Meet Hermione and me in the study in one minute, okay?”

Ron nodded, standing without question as Harry took off again, arriving in Malfoy's room,
where he and Hermione were hunched over his desk.

“Harry!” Hermione looked up with a smile, “You really should have a look at this list.
There's so many we never knew about! What's wrong?” she asked then, noticing the edge of
panic on his features.

“Come with me, please. I told Ron to meet us in the study.”

Hermione nodded and followed him out, telling Draco to start reading the book she'd given
him. When they reached the study, she closed the door behind them, soundproofing and locking it.
“What is it, Harry?”

“Ginny wants to stay with us for a few days.”

Ron visibly rolled his eyes and Hermione smacked him a bit on the arm.

“What?” Harry asked, confused.

Taking his turn, Ron smacked Harry over the head, “Don't *do* that, mate! You scared
the bloody hell out of me.”

“Well, *I'm* scared!” Harry said, “*Ginny* wants to stay with *us* for a few
*days*! What part aren't you getting, here?”

Hermione sighed, “It may be a bit uncomfortable…”

“A bit?”

“But it's not the apocalypse, Harry.”

“But she's my ex-girlfriend. And you're my current girlfriend.”

“Current? As in not permanent?” she asked with a grin.

Harry narrowed his eyes in response to her light-hearted manner, “You know what I meant. The
point is she doesn't know about us. So what are we supposed to do?”

Hermione shrugged, “Obviously we need to tell her.”

Ron nodded, “About bloody time.”

Harry sagged, “Fine.” He glared at Ron, “You know I've got half a mind to owl Lavender and
invite her up.”

“That's not fair. Then I'd have two exes, since Hermione's already here.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow, “I'm your ex?”

Ron nodded, “Well, I admit it was rather short, but it existed just the same.”

Hermione shrugged, “What an odd thought.” She turned to Harry, “See? I've lived with my ex
and my boyfriend for weeks and I haven't been struck down by lightning.”

Harry crossed arms, “Yet.” He sighed, “So are you going to come with me to tell her now?”

“Sure. Are you coming, Ron?”

Ron laughed, “I think I'll sit this one out, thanks.”

Hermione unlocked the door and took the soundproofing off the room, turning to Harry with a
small smile and holding out her hand, “C'mon, love. I won't let the big bad ex hurt
you.”

Harry smiled, taking her hand and following her up to the bedroom where Ginny was waiting,
“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

When they reached the bedroom, they released hands and walked through the threshold. Ginny was
still sitting at the table, now flipping through a book featuring pictures from all over the world,
looking up as she heard them close the door behind them. “So?”

Hermione smiled, “We would love for you to stay for a few days.”

Ginny smiled and jumped up, giving them each a hug.

“But…” Hermione began.

“But what?” Ginny asked, confused.

Harry and Hermione shared a look, Harry speaking, “Gin, there's something we've got to
tell you.” They guided her over to the couch, each sitting on one side of her.

“What is it?” Ginny asked.

*Just say it*, Harry thought to himself. “Well, you see, the thing is that Hermione and
I…we sort of…” he looked up at Hermione for help.

Hermione took Ginny's hands in her own, “We're together, Ginny.”

Ginny looked up at the two of them, shocked, turning her head back and forth. “Together?”

They both nodded. “I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner,” Harry said, following
Hermione's lead and taking her other hand, “We know you must…”

“No,” Ginny interrupted, shaking her head a bit as she seemed to try to clear her thoughts.
“I'm just…how long?” she asked Hermione, carefully slipping her hand out of Harry's, though
not moving the one in Hermione's grasp.

“Er…” Harry said as they tried to do the math.

“Were you together when the article came out?” she asked and they shook there heads. “What about
Harry's birthday party?”

Hermione sagged, “It was just before then.”

“*Before*?” Ginny asked, her voice strained a bit, “You were together when we were all here
visiting and…and you just let me go on like I did?”

“We weren't ready to tell anyone,” Harry told her, “And we thought you'd be hurt.”

“I *am* hurt!” Ginny exclaimed, standing up and looking at them as they stood as well, her
eyes watering, “But aside from the hurt I'm mostly embarrassed! You just let me go on believe
that there was a chance, or hope!”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Ginny stopped him, turning to him, “A few days ago you told
me it was completely over for good, and that hurt, but I accepted it, didn't I? I didn't go
into some fit of pre-teen rage. I just left.”

She sighed shakily as she rested a quivering hand on her forehead for a moment, letting it fall
back to her side, “That hurt because I care about you, Harry, and I think you both know what it
feels like to be rejected one way or another.” They nodded. “This hurts because you two are my
friends. I know we aren't as close as you two are with Ron, but we're friends, just the
same. It hurts that I've completely humiliated myself in front of you and you said nothing. It
hurts that you didn't decide to tell me until it would be impossible to hide it any
longer.”

Harry wait a moment and then turned to Hermione, “Can you give us a moment?” Hermione nodded,
leaving them. Once she was gone, he hesitantly opened his arms.

Ginny seemed to ponder things for a moment, and then walked into his embrace; finally let the
tears escape her eyes, her body rocking slightly as she cried in silence.

Harry held her for a bit, saying nothing and remembering not too many months ago when he had
held her for another reason and in another way and years before that when he had shaken this very
body in an attempt bring it back from the brink of death. He recalled the times when they had been
just friends, missing it dearly in the face of this complication. “I'm sorry, Gin. This is why
I didn't want to tell you.”

She hiccupped slightly as she spoke, “I don't need protecting.”

“I know.”

“I've acted pretty stupid the past couple of months, practically throwing myself on you, but
that doesn't mean I can't handle things.”

Harry nodded, “I know.”

“Do you love her?” she asked, looking up.

Harry nodded, “Yes.”

“She loves you?”

He nodded again, smiling, “I'm not sure why.”

Ginny smiled a little as well swiping the wetness from her cheeks, “I do.”

Not sure what to say, Harry changed the subject, “So are you still staying?”

“Of course I'm still staying. Mum's driving me absolutely crazy,” she said, making a
face as they let go of each other, heading to the door.

“Is she really that bad?” Harry asked.

“Not really, just bored since it's just me now. Summer was always better when you guys came
to visit.”

Harry smiled, “Do you want one of use to come with you to get your luggage?”

Ginny blushed. “Actually, I kind of already brought it,” she told him, pointing at her things as
they reached the foyer.

Harry laughed, picking up her trunk and small bag, “Okay. Well, let's see if we can find you
a room, then, shall we? Dobby?”

The elf popped in front of them response to Harry's call, “Yes, Harry Potter?”

“Are there any clean rooms Ginny can stay in for a few days?” Dobby nodded and led them through
the house, stopping in front of a door on the second floor. Once they'd thanked him, he left,
and Harry set her things on the bed. “Okay, well, I'm going to head to bed. This has been a
rather long day and we have to get up early in the morning. If you need anything, just call Dobby.
I swear that elf doesn't sleep.”

“How early do you all get up?” Ginny asked, opening her trunk and rummaging around for a pair of
pajamas.

“Well, training and workouts start at eight, so I usually get up and take my shower around six
thirty.”

“Why so early?”

“Er… I take mine first so Hermione can sleep in.”

“Oh.” They stood uncomfortably for a few moments.

“Okay, well, like I said, you can call Dobby if you need something. If you need one of us, you
already saw me and Hermione's room, and Ron's is the second one on the third floor.
Malfoy's is at the other end of this hall, so I'd avoid that.”

Ginny nodded, “Got it. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Harry left and went upstairs, finding Hermione already on the bed. After changing and sliding
in, he gave her a kiss goodnight.

“Is everything okay?” she asked quietly, her eyes closed and her face relaxed.

“Yeah. I set her up in a room downstairs.”

“That's good. It's good we told her.”

“Uh-huh,” Harry sighed. “Goodnight.”

Hermione smiled, “Sleep well.”

And a few moments later that's exactly what he did.

~*~

A/N: Thanks as always to Lady Starlight, but much more so this time for some great input! :)
Also, I know I haven't been replying to as many review as I used to, but I promise that I do
read and greatly appreciate them all, and some of your comment really get me thinking, so don't
stop!

I hope everyone's holidays went well!

-->



19. A Discovery
---------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: European Law Enforcement is going after me now. Someone let it slip about my evil
intentions. I know it's all a conspiracy. JKR owns the police, I tell you!

A/N: Words do not express my apologies. I will not waste your time with an excuse, so just enjoy
the chapter!

~*~

Chapter 19: A Discovery

~*~

The next morning, it seemed difficult for everyone to get to breakfast on time.

Harry slept over a little, waking up fifteen minutes late and finding Hermione already brushing
her teeth in the bathroom, standing in her bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her hair. As she
swished mouthwash around in her mouth, Harry walked in, wrapping his arms around her, “Why
didn't my alarm go off?”

Harry took a step back as Hermione spat out the wash and rinsed the sink, looking up at the
mirror. A dazed expression crossed her features as her eyes clouded slightly and a small smile
crept across her lips. After a moment, she shook it off, “I'm sorry, Harry, what did you
say?”

“I asked why my alarm didn't go off. What were you thinking about just now?”

Hermione leaned back into him, “I thought I'd let you sleep for a change, since you always
get up first. And I was just looking at us in the mirror.”

“And…” Harry prodded, still not understanding.

She smiled again, placing her hands on the ones he had rewrapped around her waist, “And I was
thinking how much I liked the picture, and how much I can't wait to see it every morning for
the rest of my life.”

Harry looked at the mirror, seeing what she saw - a young couple with only their futures ahead
of them. “You know, if I wasn't so positive that my breath must be horrible right now, I'd
sit you on this sink and kiss you senseless.”

Hermione merely grinned and handed him the mouthwash.

Ron groggily opened his eyes, only to find a pair of blue ones obscuring his vision. “Luna?” he
asked, sitting up, “What are you doing here so early?”

Luna blushed a bit, a rare occurrence, as she smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, “I missed
you and decided that I want to be the first thing you saw when you woke up this morning. Does that
bother you?”

“No, of course not,” Ron said, then returned her smile, “I think it's possibly the loveliest
thing I've ever woken up to. I'll try and get ready quick so you don't have to sit and
do nothing for very long, okay?” He got out of bed and grabbed some clothes to wear for the
day.

“Take your time,” Luna replied with a smirk he liked to believe was reserved for his eyes only,
“I thoroughly enjoy to view.”

Chuckling, Ron walked back to the bed where she sat. “You,” he gave her a quick, chaste kiss,
“are the coolest girlfriend ever.”

It was not long before the clothes that he had grabbed for himself, lay on the floor,
forgotten.

Draco groaned as he leaned over to turn off his alarm clock, consequentially leaning over too
far and falling on the floor. After letting out a long string of curses, he stood, attempting to
face the day. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he grabbed a towel and headed down the hall to the
bathroom. When he arrived, he noticed the light was on through the closed door. Assuming he had
left it on the night before and wondering why Dobby had not turned it off, he just turned the
doorknob and entered, greeted by a sight that woke him up instantly.

Little Weasley's back was turned to him as she showered, rinsing the shampoo out of her
hair. Thinking off how Potter or Weasley would react if they knew what he was seeing right now,
Draco was unable to suppress a chuckle. Unfortunately, Ginny heard him, gasping and turning her
head.

He had to give her credit, Malfoy thought to himself as he ran back down the hall to his room;
she never screamed. He had no sooner closed the door, though, when she barged through it, beating
him fiercely with a hairbrush with one hand as the other clasped the towel wrapped around her.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she yelled as he tried to get away from her, desperately trying
to remember where he'd placed his wand.

“How was I supposed to know you'd be in there?” he asked as he feebly attempted to shield
himself. “Haven't you ever heard of locking doors?” He finally managed to grab her wrist so he
could stop the brutal beating and look her in the eye.

Ginny did not care, though, as she returned his stare, not intimidated in the least, “You should
have left right away, and you definitely shouldn't have stood there laughing! Seriously,
Malfoy, what is your problem?”

“Would you people just quit asking me that? There is nothing wrong with me and I have no mental
problems, unless you count the fact that everyone wants a turn in beating me!” he exclaimed,
irritated, as he let her go, then narrowed his eyes. “Even Potter and your saintly brother would
stare if they walked in on a girl showering.”

“They wouldn't *laugh* if they walked in on a girl showering, though!”

Draco shrugged, considering this; “Maybe they would if the girl was fat or something…” he
mentally kicked himself as Ginny's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, then turned so
severe that even he found himself shrinking away. Before he could think to do anything else, Ginny
swung her arm back and punched him square in the left eye. Then, with a frustrated scream and a bit
of foot-stomping, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

About half an hour later, Draco entered the kitchen, sitting at the other end of the table, away
from the rest of them. Ron, Harry, and Hermione couldn't suppress their confused chuckles at
the sight of a beautiful black eye. “What happened?” Hermione asked.

Draco rolled his eyes as he ate his oatmeal, “Ask Little Miss Redhead.”

Harry laughed and turned to Ginny, who wore a scowl as well, “Little Miss Redhead?”

Ginny simply shrugged, “Trust me, he deserved it.”

Hermione laughed, “I'll take your word. Is that why I heard screaming this morning?” Ginny
made no response, returning to her breakfast.

After Tonks' arrival they all headed upstairs, waiting for her to pair them up with their
dueling partners. Tonks stood silently for a moment, biting her lip in thought, “Okay…let's
see. Luna, I'll pair you up with Malfoy here. Ginny, you and Ron can have a go at each other…
and Harry…” she narrowed her eyes as Harry instinctively moved to Hermione, then grinned evilly,
“I'll have you go against Hermione and I.”

“What?” Harry exclaimed as the other two pairs began working, “That's not fair. You're
an Auror…and Hermione's brilliant…and I can barely handle either of you by yourselves!”

Tonks shrugged, “Fine, then. You can be the one to tell old Snake Eyes that you don't really
feel up to dueling him and about five to ten of his minions simultaneously. I bet that will go over
real well.”

Harry sagged in defeat as he walked over to where they were anxiously waiting. “This is going to
hurt, isn't it?” he said, not really in the form of a question.

Hermione smiled sympathetically, “We'll go easy on you, Harry.”

“Ha!” The older woman laughed, “Speak for yourself.”

And then it was off. For the first hour or two, Harry held his own, but he soon began to realize
that this was a fight he was not going to win. Finally, getting careless, Harry began to dodge in
every direction, flinging curses without abandon, hoping some of them would reach the appropriate
targets. After forty-five more relentless minutes, Harry dodged in the wrong direction, allowing
Tonks to stun him as Hermione simultaneously and mistakenly sent him flying across the attic,
plowing into Draco and sending them both into the boxes that were stacked in the far corner.

After the collision, Harry quickly shook the stun off, though he was rather disoriented and
Malfoy pushed Harry off his lap, standing and attempting to look dignified despite the fact that he
was tenderly rubbing his own clearly bruised bum, “Honestly Potter. I'm not that way…”

Harry narrowed his eyes, then made his own attempt at dignity as he stood nonchalantly, “Trust
me, Malfoy. Even if I was *that* way you would be my last choice in partners.”

“Oh that's right. I forgot you had a thing for Weasley.”

Hermione had to avoid rolling her eyes as a fistfight ensued. Ron ran over in an attempt to
break it up, but a few well-placed words on Draco's part invited him on into the match as well.
Since it was two against one, Malfoy should have been down already, but Ron seemed to be bouncing
between the two of them and Harry was not being strategic with his attacks in the least. After a
few moments, she turned to Tonks, who for once actually looked annoyed instead of amused. The woman
looked at Hermione tiredly, “I say we divide and conquer. You grab Malfoy. The other two and eye
will get Ron and Harry.”

With a quick nod, Hermione jogged over and pulled Draco out from under her two friends. She
managed to get him in a corner as Ginny and Luna pulled Ron and Tonks single-handedly got ahold of
Harry, restraining him. She looked up at the other teenagers in the room as she kept a tight hold
on him, “How about you five go get some lunch? I need to have a quick chat with Mr. Potter
here.”

Thrown off by Tonks' short manner of speaking, they all merely nodded and left. Once the
door was closed behind them, Tonks released Harry and crossed her arms, “So what do you have to say
for yourself?”

Harry took a few deep breaths to slow down his heartbeat, “He insulted me…”

“I noticed that. Is a little bit of schoolboy taunting your justification for you immature
behavior?”

He looked at her in disbelief, “Tonks, why are you so…”

“You've mentioned serious thoughts about being an Auror on more than one occasion. Let me
tell you, if you want to do it, there's a definite chance you could be really great at it,
but,” Tonks uncrossed her arms and placed them on her hips, “just for the record, if you were in
training and you had just pulled a stunt like that, you'd be out like that.” She snapped her
fingers in illustration of her point.

“But this isn't Auror training, it's just…”

“Training to kill one of the most dangerous evil maniacs of all time? Look, Harry,” Tonks said,
finally becoming recognizable to him once more, “I'm trying to *prepare* you here. I'm
been working extra hours so I can come here in the mornings and I've sacrificed a lot of time I
could be spending with Remus, who, by the way, has been working to help you as well. These
aren't just workouts and play-duels we're doing here. It's serious training that is
typically intended for adults. This means that when I come here to help you I expect you to be
mature and above Malfoy's level, understood?”

Harry looked her straight in the eye, all trace of complaint gone, “Yes, ma'am.”

Tonks laughed, “Oh dear Merlin, don't ever call me that again.”

Harry chuckled, walking up and holding out his arm, “Now shall we go join the rest for
lunch?”

“Yes, I think we shall,” she said as she linked her own arm threw his.

A smile graced Harry's lips as a thought came to him, “So do you really think I'd make a
great Auror?”

“Well…”

Later that night, in an effort to get rid of some excess energy, Draco went up to the attic and
began to clean up the mess from earlier, repairing the boxes and putting items back in them when
suddenly something came to his attention.

“What the hell…” Picking the item up in his hand, he immediately sprinted out of the attic and
down stairs. Crossing the hallway, he unthinkingly opened Harry's door, which was of course a
mistake.

As Harry and Hermione immediately reached for their shirts and pulled them over their heads,
Malfoy put his free hand over his eyes, swearing. “Honestly, have any of you ever heard of locking
doors?”

“Well, excuse of if we weren't expecting visitors at ten o'clock at night,” Harry
muttered, irritated.

“We're fully clothed now,” Hermione told him, “What did you need?”

Draco pulled down his hand and held out the locket. Hermione gasped as Harry hastily took it
from his hands. “Where on Earth did you…”

“It was in the attic. Must have been in one of the boxes.”

“RON!” Harry yelled out to his friend at the top of his lungs, but Ron had Apparated in behind
him just a moment before.

“What is it?” he asked, “I felt something and…”

“Look,” Hermione interrupted, pointing to the locket that Harry held in his hands.

“Bloody hell,” Ron breathed, “Is that…”

“Sure as hell looks like it,” Harry replied. Without a word, they all walked over to the
fireplace, sitting in front of the fire in a close-knit triangle.

Draco watched awkwardly form the doorway, assuming his part was done with. “Okay, well, I'll
just go then.” The only form of acknowledgement he received was an absent-minded nod from
Hermione.

“So what do we do?” Ron finally asked after many minutes of silence.

“I suppose we should find some way of checking to see if it's the real thing,” Hermione
answered.

Harry looked up at the two and replied, “It's the real thing. I can feel it.”

Hermione swallowed, concerned, “You can…*feel* it?”

“I can't explain it, but… I just know that this is one of them,” Harry clarified.

“Mate,” Ron spoke with hesitance, “Are you sure it's safe for you to be holding that thing?
Perhaps we should be careful.”

Harry laughed a bit, “If I recall correctly Sirius banged this on a wardrobe continuously. I
doubt anything's going to happen just by me holding it.”

“Should we put it somewhere? Can Voldemort, you know… sense it or something?”

Hermione pondered this, “It's been here for over two years, and no one's come for it.
Even if they wanted to, this house is safe, so while extra precaution may not be a bad idea, I
don't believe it would be necessary.”

“How'd it get here, though?” Ron asked, quite the interrogator this evening.

“R.A.B.” Harry mutter quietly.

“Sirius' brother?” Ron replied in disbelief.

Harry shrugged, “It's the only idea I've got right now.”

Hermione carefully watched Harry's features, then gently reached out her hand to his, “What
do we need to do?”

Ron waited for an answer with her as Harry turned the piece of jewelry over in his hands. After
several moments he looked up, “We find a place to put this. Somewhere safe. I reckon we could put
it with my mum's things in the closet… In the meantime, we need to see if this can lead us to
any of the others. I'll owl the Headmistress, Tonks, and Remus first thing in the morning.
Hermione, do you have any idea how we can destroy this? The sooner the better?”

Hermione shook her head, “I've been reading up on it a bit, but so far everything I've
come across has been experimental and either not fully documented or failed. I'll begin
researching it more intensely.”

Harry nodded, turning to Ron, “Do you still have those notes we took earlier in the summer?”

Ron nodded also as he spoke to Hermione; “I'll bring them to you before we leave
tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Hermione replied, though her mind seemed to be miles ahead of her mouth, “Where are you
two going tomorrow?”

“Some place in France,” Harry answered, “Malfoy says that there's a guy there who claims to
have known Voldemort when he was still Tom Riddle.”

Hermione's brow furrowed, “Seems odd that Voldemort would be okay with some guy walking
around telling stories of his childhood.”

“According to Malfoy, no one takes him seriously,” Ron replied, “They all just consider him a
raving lunatic. Lucius had some business with the man once and brought Malfoy along when he was a
kid. He told us that the man told him all kinds of stories. We figured we'd check it out.”

Hermione nodded, worried as always, “Alright. I know it's getting redundant, but please be
careful.”

They both smiled and put and arm around her. “Aren't we always?” Harry asked.

With a laugh, Hermione gave them each a kiss on the cheek before letting them go, “If that were
true, I wouldn't feel the need to constantly repeat myself.”

“So what now?” Ron asked, returning to the task at hand, “Is that it? We just put it away and go
on with our lives until we come up with some way of destroying it?”

Shrugging, Harry sighed, getting up and taking it to the closet, “There's nothing else that
we can do, is there?”

“I suppose not. Best get to bed then. We still have training in the morning, after all.
Goodnight.” After shutting the door behind him, Hermione took Harry's hand and led him to the
bed. Giving him one look, she immediately opened her arms, allowing him to practically collapse
against her as they laid back on the mattress.

“That is definitely not what I had planned for this evening,” he muttered after a few
minutes.

Hermione couldn't help but giggle a little, recalling what they had been doing before Draco
had ever-so-kindly interrupted, “No, I suppose not.”

“Do you suppose he was telling the truth?”

“About what?” Hermione asked, confused.

“About how he found it. Perhaps he had it all along…”

“Harry,” she stated, sitting up, “Are you actually suggesting that…”

“Would it be that crazy?” Harry replied mid-sentence. “He could have been sent here. Maybe
it's a trap.”

Hermione bit a lip, “It's not an entirely crazy thought, I admit, and I understand that you
are the last person to be trusting where Draco Malfoy is concerned, but in this case it really
isn't logical.”

“What makes you say that?”

“First of all, you've already stated that you know that locket is the Horcrux we've been
looking for.”

“It is. I'm certain.”

“Then, according to your theory, Voldemort willingly let Malfoy put part of his *soul* into
your possession. Trap or not, that's a pretty risky thing to do, ever for a wizard as crazy as
Voldemort himself.”

“It's not impossible, though. Malfoy could have been planning it all along,” Harry
insisted.

“But what about the Veritaserum? There's no way Draco could have been lying about why or how
he came here. He also said that he had no bad intentions toward any of us and that he really does
plan to help. Whether he is very happy to be doing it or not, I have to give him the benefit of the
doubt.”

Harry frowned, “Why?”

“I just have a feeling. A hunch. When it comes to Malfoy, that is,” Hermione replied honestly,
“I really have no other way to explain it.”

With a sigh, Harry laid back on the bed again, this time sliding over to where his pillow was,
“Well, I suppose your hunches have been pretty accurate in the past. I still don't trust
him.”

“I didn't say I did either.”

“But I do trust you.”

Hermione smiled, leaning over him, and giving him a quick kiss on the lips, “Thank you. Now do
you want to tell me what's really bothering you?”

Harry exhaled softly, turning to his side to look at her as she laid down next to him, “It's
been here all along.”

She nodded, “Yes.”

“Dumbledore and I, we went through all of that…and he *died*, for Merlin's sake! And
the whole time it was sitting right here; right under our noses!”

“Harry, I don't want you to blame yourself.”

“Why shouldn't I?” he asked, “I saw it. I should have remembered.”

“But you didn't.”

“Yes, I didn't. I didn't because…”

“Your human,” Hermione replied sternly, “Harry, I don't care how many Avada Kedavras you
survive or how many weird powers you suddenly discover. At the end of the day, you are just like
every other man on this planet. You make mistakes. But just because you failed to remember five
minutes of what can be considered a very eventful life, does not mean that you yourself are a
failure, or that you are the reason Dumbledore died.”

“But he wouldn't have if…”

Hermione sighed a bit, “Snape killed Dumbledore. Before that, Malfoy tried to. He was the oldest
person I'd ever seen, and essentially didn't have one of his hands. I hate to say it, but
Dumbledore has been avoiding death for some time now. It just finally caught up to him, and I think
a part of him let it.”

“Let it?” Harry echoed, confused, “Why would he let it?”

She smiled sadly, “Albus Dumbledore dedicated the last years of his life to protecting you, but
when he wasn't doing that he was preparing you for a time when you would have to protect
yourself. Professor Dumbledore was not well last year, and I think he knew that his time was
near.”

Harry frowned, “You really think so?”

“I do.”

“I still think it's my fault in part that he died, even if it hurts to ponder,” Harry
admitted.

“So,” Hermione said, placing a hand on his cheek, “maybe if it was all some big scheme on
Malfoy's part, you wouldn't have to think of that fact that all of us missed something so
critical?”

Harry shrugged, “I suppose.” He blinked. “You know, I really despise it when you psycho-analyze
me like that. It makes me feel like I'm talking to a shrink or something. Like I'm telling
Dr. Granger my problems.”

Hermione pouted her lips sympathetically, “I'm sorry. I hardly realize when I'm doing
it. Do you want to know what this doctor prescribes, though?”

Harry smirked, his eyes darkening mischievously, “What?”

Giving him a playful smacked on the arm, Hermione rolled her eyes, “I was thinking sleep.”

“Oh,” Harry replied, yawning at the thought, “That's sounds good, too.” The lights turned
off and he leaned over to give her a soft kiss, “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight.”

The next few days passed quite quickly, with training in the mornings, studying, research, and
tutoring in the afternoons, a quick dinner, then usually more research before going to bed, the six
teenagers were slowly being drained of their energy. Harry and Ron's meeting with the Crazy
Man, as they'd titled him, was postponed, due to the fact that he was apparently out of the
country - at least, that's what they were told. The trio had decided to talk to Ginny and Luna
about the Horcruxes, seeing as it had become increasingly clear that they planned to help in any
way possible.

Both girls had spent Saturday and Sunday morning with their families, returning Sunday evening
just before dinner. As they all began to clean up their dishes, Draco headed upstairs and the rest
headed into the living room, relaxing.

“This is our last night here,” Luna stated after awhile, “We should be doing something.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Ginny asked. Luna merely shrugged in return, but Hermione seemed to
have an idea.

“What are you thinking?” Ron asked her.

Hermione smiled a little, “We could play a game.”

Harry groaned, “No cards or chess, I beg of you.”

“Actually,” she went on, “I was thinking of something a bit more… physically engaging. I'll
be right back.”

The room sat in silence after her departure, Ron finally asking the question on everyone's
mind. “What do you suppose she means by *physically engaging*?”

Hermione grabbed the box from the shelf in her closet, pleased that she had thought to grab it
when they had visited her parents. On her way downstairs, a thought crossed her mind. Before she
could decide against it, she gently knocked on Draco's door.

“Come in,” she heard him mutter. Hermione tentatively opened the door, stepping inside to see
him sitting up on his bed, his elbows resting on his knees.

“We're about to start a game downstairs.”

He looked up at her, nonplussed, “And?”

Hermione shrugged, “I just though that you might want to…”

“*Join*?” Draco asked, clearly thinking she was kidding.

“Look,” Hermione said, trying not to let herself get annoyed by him, “I was just thinking that,
well, we've let you out of your little prison for awhile now, but it seems like your just as
alone as you were before.”

“Why do you care?” he questioned suspiciously.

“I *don't*,” she replied, “I just have this crazy idea that somewhere under that
titanium shell of yours, there is a human being inside. And, you know, being a fellow human being
myself, it seemed that you could use a little company, let alone some fun.”

“I'm pretty positive that not one single person downstairs wants me there.”

“Now that's just not true.” At his questioning glance Hermione went on, “I'm rather
certain that Luna really doesn't care one way or another.”

Draco chuckled for a small moment, then returned to his confused expression he wore before, “I
still don't understand, Granger. Why are you doing this?”

Hermione sighed, looking at the ceiling, “Because despite the fact that you get on my last
nerve, I appreciate that *most* of the time you have been a decent person, despite the
unfortunate circumstances.” She began walking to the door, “You don't have to play. I just
thought I'd offer.”

“What game are you playing?” Hermione held up the box. “Twister? Looks like a Muggle game.”

Hermione tried to ignore the rudeness in his voice, “Yes, it is, but if you want you can have
the job of being spinner, which involves watching as you inflict pain on others.”

He pondered this a moment, “Maybe I'll come down later or something.”

“Alright.”

“Don't count on it or anything.”

Hermione just nodded, closing the door behind her as she exited the room. When she arrived back
downstairs, they all looked up at her expectantly. “What took you so long?” Ron asked
curiously.

“I stopped to check on Malfoy,” Hermione said, biting her lip, “You know, making sure he's
not trying to burn the house down or anything,” she added as they stared at her in response.

“Good idea,” Ginny replied.

Hermione shrugged, smiling, “So are you ready to finally get your butt kicked at a game, Ronald
Weasley?”

After a couple hours of awkward positions, sore muscles, and tangled heaps, the group called it
a night. Hermione stayed behind, folding up the mat. Harry hovered by the entrance to the room,
“Why don't you leave it until tomorrow, when I'm not too tired to help you clean up?”

Hermione glanced over. “Everything will be hectic tomorrow morning sine we will be taking Luna
and Ginny back. Besides, I'll be done in a minute. Why don't you go ahead? I'll be
right up.”

“Okay,” Harry gave her a quick kiss, heading up the stairs.

After putting the game pieces back into the box, Hermione headed up the stairs, going back to
her room.

Noticing that Harry was still in the shower, Hermione put the game away, changing into her
pajamas. Just as she was getting ready to crawl into bed, Harry exited the bathroom, beautifully
topless in only his pajama bottoms. In an unusual moment lacking inhibition, Hermione whistled with
appreciation, causing Harry to flush a bit as he grinned in return, grabbing her around the
waist.

“Was that a cat call, Miss Granger?”

“I think it very well might have been Mister Potter. Do you plan to do something about it?”

Harry's smirk was all the reply Hermione needed - all thoughts vanishing as she became lost
in those green, green eyes.

~*~

A/N: Okay, if you actually care why it took so long, here's a quick recap: Due to technical
difficulties (I think my computer has some electronic form of cancer), I handwrote most of this,
and typing and saving this was very difficult. When I finally sent it off, my beta was out of town
for the weekend (I tend to have great timing like that…). Then, I spent about four days rewriting
parts, seeing as this is a big chapter in relation to plot (some reasons are more obvious than
others). As I said before, I'm very sorry.

Big huge thank you to Lady Starlight! Your comments and suggestions were especially great this
time around. I hope you liked the final product.

To the rest of you: I greatly appreciate the patience you have demonstrated this past month; it
really means a lot. As always, I am grateful for all reviews and constructive criticism!

-->



20. Platform 9 3/4
------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: Draco is very upset about the black eye, but he is more upset that the rest of the
characters refuse to tell him how to heal it. Darn…

A/N: Please read the note at the bottom. And now, for those of you who asked for action, I give
you…finally…

~*~

Chapter 20: Platform 9 3/4

~*~

It was nice, Hermione decided, to kiss one's boyfriend.

It was *very* nice to have said boyfriend kissing you in return.

And hey, she was not about to complain about the fact that she lived with said boyfriend many
miles away from her parents.

But, Hermione Granger could not appreciate any of this, because as Harry softly muttered her
name, another name was heard in her head, a name that should most certainly not be heard in her
head when she was lying on her bed snogging her boyfriend.

*Luna*.

Hermione shook it off, focusing on Harry. But only moments later, the same thing happened again.
“Hermione,” he whispered, as he placed kissed on her jaw line.

*Luna*.

Suddenly realizing what was going on, Hermione moaned, “Dear Merlin!”

Unaware as ever, Harry merely nodded, “Dear Merlin is right…”

“No,” Hermione said, removing herself from Harry and standing, “I did not mean that in a good
way.”

Harry sat up, “Did I do something wrong?”

*You are incredible.*

Hermione clapped her hands over her ears, stupidly thinking it would stop the voice from
penetrating her skull. Harry was now standing in front of her, worried, but she didn't have
room to care.

*Where do you learn things like that?*

“Shut up, Ron!” Hermione begged aloud, her palms no longer against her ears, but one firmly
against her forehead. “Please just shut up for once!” A best friend was not supposed to hear these
things ever. Ever.

*Luna…Luna…*

Clinging to her sanity, Hermione looked up desperately at Harry, willing him to understand. He
seemed to be putting the pieces together, as he grabbed her wrist and pulled them out of the room,
heading down stairs.

As they neared the door, Ron's voice only grew louder and clearer in Hermione's head,
and she whimpered a bit, trying to just get it to stop and hoping she could rid herself of this
memory.

*Luna…I can't believe you…Oh, sweet Merlin!*

Harry pushed open the door, clearly trying not to look, “Ron, whatever it is you are doing with
Luna Lovegood must stop this instant!”

Hermione, scarred enough for one evening, tried not to watch as Luna casually grabbed her shirt
and bra, while Ron was pulling a shirt over his head and grabbing a pair of pants off the floor.
“Bloody hell, Harry! What is going on?”

Harry blinked, obviously trying to get the images out of his head, “What is going on, is that
whatever it is that you were just doing with your girlfriend is causing my girlfriend mental
problems.”

Hermione nodded weakly, unable to completely look at Ron. “I can hear your voice in my head,”
she added feebly as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Oh,” Ron replied, complete sympathy crossing his features, “Hermione, I'm so sorry. I
suppose it isn't really my fault, but still.” He reached out to her but she ducked behind
Harry.

“No offense or anything Ron, but I can barely look at you right about now.”

“Right,” Ron said, backing away a bit, then smiled. “I guess this makes up for that other
afternoon, Hermione?”

“I suppose this would be Triptych related?” Harry interrupted.

“Most likely,” Hermione replied.

“Then…should we try to get ahold of Gretta?” Ron asked tentatively.

Harry groaned, “That'll be a pleasant conversation.”

Hermione nodded, “We'll have to wait until later in the week. She starts classes
tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Ron said. “We should all be getting to bed, then, since we're dropping off Luna and
Ginny tomorrow.”

“Yes, you're right. Goodnight Ron.”

“Goodnight.”

After shutting the door, Harry turned to Hermione, “Are you alright?”

“I'll be fine. I think I'm going to make a bit of tea, though, to soothe my nerves.”

“Do you want company?”

“No, you go on to bed. I just need to clear my head, that's all.”

Harry nodded and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, “Don't stay up too late.”

Hermione smiled, “Sir, yes, sir.”

With a laugh, Harry pulled her into a hug, holding her for a moment or two, “I think the
universe is punishing us for something. We've been interrupted twice tonight now.”

“I think the universe is telling us that there are more important things to do than snog each
other.”

“Oh, but it's so much fun…”

Hermione playfully pushed him away, “Goodnight.”

He smiled, tenderly this time. “Goodnight. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

With one more kiss, this one on the lips, Harry headed off in the opposite direction. Sighing
lightly, Hermione went to the kitchen and made her tea, letting her mind be blissfully blank as she
stared off into space. Once the cup was empty, she rinsed it and put it away, heading up the stairs
to her room.

As she passed by Draco's doorway, she heard something inside. She hovered for a moment, and
then knocked softly. When he didn't answer, she opened the door, assuming he was awake for some
reason and figured she'd ask why he'd never come down to join them in Twister. “Hey, why
didn't you…” she began to ask but the words fell from her lips at the sight in front of
her.

Draco Malfoy lay curled up under his sheets, sleeping, but not peacefully at all. His face was
disfigured into a terrible grimace as he all but hugged himself, moaning in what Hermione could
only assume was pain, though she was not positive that the pain was physical. She began to wonder
if this was what he went through every night, and though her first instinct was to comfort him,
despite whom he was, Hermione knew it was not her place. And, even if she did not want to admit it,
there was a part of her that was glad to see him in this position; a part of her that felt he
deserved this. Disturbed by such a dark thought, Hermione softly closed the door, leaving him and
going up to her room.

Despite the tea, sleep did not come easily to Hermione that night.

The following morning was thankfully much less hectic than every other summer, but still the
house was buzzing with activity. Harry helped Dobby prepare breakfast as Ron and Hermione helped
Ginny and Luna with their packing, which, obviously, was saved until the last minute. And Malfoy,
well, Malfoy just tried to stay out of the line of fire.

“Where's my toothbrush?!” Ginny yelled down the hall, holding a cosmetic bag in hand. When
no one answered, she simply yelled again, increasing her volume, “Hello? Anyone? Where is my
TOOTHBRUSH?!”

“NO ONE KNOWS WHERE THE HELL YOUR STUPID TOOTHBRUSH IS SO JUST SHUT UP ABOUT IT!!! Ow!” Ron
thundered back, receiving a smack in the head from Luna.

“We don't know where it is, Gin!” Hermione called in reply politely.

Ginny sighed in frustration. How could she possibly lose her toothbrush? It never left the
bathroom! Then, just as she was about to head back into her room, Draco came walking down the hall
- doing what else but - brushing his teeth. Except instead of using his normal green brush the one
currently scrubbing his oral cavity was blue… much like Ginny's.

“Are you kidding me?” she half-yelled as he entered the bathroom and pulled the toothbrush out
of his mouth to spit.

Draco rinsed his mouth before looking up, utterly bewildered, “About what?”

Trying to take a few deep breaths to calm herself but failing miserably, Ginny growled in
response, “That…is…my…*toothbrush*!”

He looked down at the brush then, realizing for what seemed to be the first time that it was the
wrong color. Promptly rinsing it, he handed it back to her, “Right. Sorry.”

Having grown up with five older brothers to deal with, Ginny knew her temper well. First, there
would be this small tingling in her breath, starting deep within her chest and coming out through
her flared nostrils, the second sign. Her hands would begin to shake, and then, just before her
rage was let lose, her cheeks would burn and her ears would turn a violent shade of red. When this
happened, there was little to put a cork in her.

This, of course, was why Harry walked up to the doorway right in that instant, to suggest that
she Accio the toothbrush, because he had heard her yelling from downstairs in the kitchen.

Deflating only slightly, Ginny turned to him, “Malfoy *used* my toothbrush.”

In an oddly good mood, Harry laughed, “Now that is just disgusting. I suggest you purchase a new
one before using that thing again.”

Even Malfoy was forced to feel a little sorry for Harry as Ginny's temper, which was clearly
not meant for Harry to begin with, was quickly turned on him. But, as she raised her hand to
attempt to inflict pain on him, he held up his own palm, freezing her arm midway through, though
clearly with magic, since he hadn't touched her.

“Ginny,” Harry said, suddenly less lighthearted, though still calm, “I am sorry. Please just try
to let it go and finish packing. It would be nice to be on time for the Express for a change.” He
lowered his palm, releasing her arm from its mysterious bind. Sulking a bit, Ginny nodded and left,
realizing, despite herself, that he was right.

Thinking the scene was over; Draco turned back to his morning routine and began swishing some
mouthwash around, counting in his head. However, Harry did not leave, instead leaning against the
doorframe aside from which he stood, arms crossed.

Since, with liquid currently inside his mouth, Malfoy could not say anything, so they both knew
Harry would have to be the first to speak. Finally, though there seemed to be no waiting, Harry did
speak, with an irritated sigh, “Do you do it on purpose or are you simply that stupid?”

Draco spit out the mouthwash and rinsed the sink, then, unable to contain it even in the
presence of his rival, he smiled - not a sneer or a smirk, but a smile - just barely. “I like to
think I have very bad timing, actually.”

Perhaps it was because he really had been in an oddly good mood throughout the morning, or maybe
it was that Draco's answer threw him off a bit, but Harry chuckled in reply, saying before
leaving back to the kitchen, “Well, I don't suppose I can argue with that.”

As Harry walked away, Draco only allowed himself to ponder what in the name of Slytherin had
just happened before deciding not to consider it any longer, far too disturbed to give it any more
thought.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione stood folding some of Luna's things, when both paused, looking
at each other.

“Did you feel that?” Ron asked, a hand just touching his ribcage.

Hermione shook her head, “But I heard it, or thought it. What did you feel?”

Ron searched for words, “Oddly relaxed. And *Friendly*. But that couldn't be, could it?
Because I felt the presence of another person. Very much like…”

“Malfoy,” Hermione finished, a bit wide-eyed, “And here I was positive I would never see the
day.”

“You know what this means, don't you?” Ron asked.

“What?”

“Harry is clearly high.”

Hermione thought about this, and considered pointing out to Ron how completely ludicrous the
thought was, but since she had no better explanation herself, she simply laughed, throwing a jumper
at him, “I wonder who supplied the drugs.”

Before long, they safely made it to the train station and onto the platform.

“What's with all of the people?” Harry asked, noticing the rather crowded area.

“The Daily Prophet is making a big news story out of McGonagall keeping the school open. A lot
of press is here to interview parents and students,” Hermione replied.

Harry nodded and together they loaded the girls' things onto the train as Ron said goodbye
to his sister and girlfriend. Tonks, Remus, and Gretta had come along as well, just as a safety
precaution.

“Look out for each other, okay? I don't want McGonagall calling me and telling me that
either of you got into some kind of trouble,” Ron was saying, trying to sound official and
mature.

“Poor Ron,” Hermione said as she and Harry now watched from a few meters away, “After they go,
he'll be stuck with just us and Draco.”

Harry laughed, “He's been fine with just us for the past six years. I think he'll
manage.”

Hermione smiled, “I suppose.” Together they walked up and said goodbye to Luna and Ginny,
helping them onto the train. After a few moments, the two of them stuck their heads out of a window
a little ways down.

“We'll see you in a few weeks,” Ginny told the three of them with a smile as the train began
to pull away. “I-” she started to say something but was cut off mid-sentence as screams were heard
down the way.

After that, many things began to happen all over the platform. Familiar pops of Apparition rung
out as black-hooded figures, undoubtedly Death Eaters, arrived all around the Express, immediately
firing off curse after curse. Some adults in the crowd, those not frozen in shock or terror, began
to defend themselves and others. Others tried to reach the train, mothers shouting out to their
children.

On board many of the older students, prefects and the Head Boy and Girl, were trying to keep
order, attempting to calmly evacuate the Express. The younger children were screaming, clearly
terrified, trying to reach their parents as well. Looking around at the packed platform, growing
increasingly more so as more and more pops sounded the arrival of Death Eaters, Harry could see
this wasn't a good idea. “Ginny!” he shouted out to the redhead who was trying to get off as
well, “*Ginny!*”

At last she turned around, Luna having heard him. “What is it?” she called through to
uproar.

“Keep the younger kids on the train, they're safer there! Then get down here and help us!”
She nodded quickly and pulled Luna, shuffling to reach other older students and pass on the
message.

The three teens turned to each other as Remus, Gretta and Tonks tried to listen in as they
helped the other adults. As the number of curses flying through the air rapidly grew in number,
Harry threw up a shield around them, trying to give Ron and Hermione time. He could tell that they
were mentally calculating what their next move should be, Ron was also looking for Ginny and Luna,
so he waited a moment, an abnormally long moment it seemed, for one of them to speak.

“Harry,” Hermione finally said, after what felt like ages, ducking a flyway curse in the
process, “How strong are you?”

“What do you need me to do?” Harry asked, unsure.

“I want you to push the train as far away from the station as possible.”

Ron, who had been helping the other three and scanning the crowd for his sister and girlfriend
had not appeared to be listening, looked up when Hermione said this, eyes widening slightly as he
nodded in agreement, “Yes! We need to split up their targets and get the kids as far away as
possible. Think you can do it, mate?” He only held Harry's gaze for a moment before turning and
sending a Stunner at a Death Eater aiming at Luna, who Harry spotted about fifteen meters away,
still pushing through the crowd.

Harry looked at the Express apprehensively, then began running to the back of it, speaking with
as firm of a voice as he could muster, “There's only one way to find out, I suppose.”

Ron and Hermione followed close behind, covering him, as they continued to communicate silently.
As they reached the back, Hermione spoke again, this time to Ron. “Get him out of sight after the
push. I'll be right back.”

She popped away as Harry braced himself against the train. “Where'd she go?” he asked Ron,
worried.

Ron waved his free hand as he sent off another jinx, “She said she needs something. It's
fine. Push the train.”

“How far?”

“About one hundred meters should do it,” Ron said distractedly, throwing up a hasty shield
charm.

“What about the people in the way of the train? What if I hit them?”

“They'll be fine! Just push the train. We don't exactly have the luxury of time
here!”

Harry swallowed, his throat dry, then, trying not to give it too much thought, pushed it with
all of the energy he possessed. To his great surprise, the Express rolled away in response, a good
distance from the platform. Before anyone could see how it had happened, Ron pulled him back into
the crowd toward everyone else, Hermione popping in next to them along the way as they ran to
everyone else.

“Where's Tonks?” Ron asked, grabbing Ginny and Luna out of the way of a curse. The girls
then dropped into crouches and started firing spells back, allowing the others a moment to
communicate.

“Went to the Auror department,” Remus replied, ducking as a purple flash whizzed past his head,
“I already sent out a Patronus to McGonagall. Gretta or I will need to leave when the Aurors arrive
to help her out.” His voice had steadily risen to a yell over the chaotic cacophony.

“Good,” Harry shouted between curses that he had begun firing off at rapid speed, ignoring the
pain in his arms from pushing the train moments ago, “Either of you can just go now. We can handle
things here.”

“Are you sure?” Gretta called from a small distance away, not unkindly, but clearly concerned.
Around her there was almost a blur of color as curses were shouted. “Your powers aren't totally
consistent…”

“Harry just single-handedly moved a train!” Ron shouted, glancing at Hermione and sending a
shield around her, much to her irritation by the looks of the glare she sent his way as she
carefully inched closed to them, something in her hands. A bag of some sort, Harry thought.

“Look,” Hermione said loudly as she reached them, pulling them into a somewhat safe alcove,
mostly out of the line of fire, “I don't need that, Ron! Put these on.” She pulled out five
brass medallions, nothing particularly impressive, each attached to a clip or a hook.

“Hook them onto you belt loop,” she instructed, pointing to the one she already had attached to
her jeans, “I put a minor shield on each of them. This way you won't have to defend against
standard spells that are merely flyways.”

Ron looked as if he could have kissed her, hooking one on and then grabbing two for Ginny and
Luna, plunging back into the crowd. This left one for Harry and a last one for Remus or Gretta.

“See,” Harry half-shouted to Gretta, attaching his quickly, anxious, “Just go! We need to get
out there.” He was holding up a shield charm, but he felt a strong urge to quit simply defending
and take some of the numerous Death Eaters down.

Clearly seeing that this was not the time to argue and that there would be no point if it was,
Gretta nodded and Disapparated. Quickly grabbing the fifth medallion, Remus nodded to the two of
them, then, after a quick squeeze of Hermione's hand, Harry followed close behind, Hermione
nearby.

Harry quickly found that this was nothing like training or the countless times he had faced
Voldemort over the past six years. The most similar event he could think of would be what had taken
place in the Department of Mysteries fifth year, but there had been many less people then, only six
willing kids up against half a dozen or so Death Eaters. Now, there seemed to be an endless supply
of unprepared civilians, and at least thirty black-hooded figures. Without endless rooms and doors
to close, everyone was instead trapped on a single crowed chaotic platform.

In an attempt to protect themselves, many people had conjured temporary barriers, only waist
high, but big enough to duck behind. They were doing good considering how utterly unprepared they
clearly were, and for what it was worth they seemed to be taking many of the Death Eaters down. The
only problem was that it seemed that every time one fell two appeared to take his or her place, and
the Death Eaters weren't doing badly on their side of things either. There seemed to be many
casualties all over the platform.

“Duck!” Harry recognized Ron's voice and crouched to the ground immediately just as a
dangerously green beam flashed over his head.

It was hard to see the faces of the Death Eaters, obscured by their massive hoods and appearing
to even be wearing masks in some cases, but that just made it that much easier for Harry to picture
every single one of them as Bellatrix or Malfoy Senior, or Snape.

He tried to recall and use the strategy he had learned from Defense Against the Dark Arts or
from Tonks in the recent weeks. He knew that they thought that self-defense was important,
particularly for *him*. But, he had never fully agreed with this when they had merely been in
the attic, and now it seemed impossible to do anything but defend as many people as he was able,
including and especially Hermione. Ron seemed to have this thought as well, though he was
simultaneously protecting Luna and Ginny. When the Aurors finally arrived, Harry was more than
relieved.

“Crucio!” Harry heard a male voice shout from nearby and he quickly conjured a shield. He
couldn't risk them realizing that he was not affected by the curse, and he did not have that
much faith in his acting abilities. He turned, trying to find the source of the Unforgivable, but
there were too many to figure out where it came from. There wasn't time to anyway, for just
then three seemed to have recognize him, turning towards him in a predatory fashion.

“Diffindo!” The one in the center shouted.

“Protego!” Harry yelled back, not fancying a severed body part. “Expelliarmus!” A wave of blue
shot from his wand, tossing Death Eaters like bowling pins.

Not waiting around for them to get back to their feet, Harry began to scan the area for
Hermione; he had lost track of her somehow. Finally he found her, battling against a single Death
Eater. Not far off Ginny and Luna were doing some damage of their own.

Harry was forced to turn his attention away, however, as at that moment he spotted a small
child, most likely a first year, running around in the line of fire, tears in her eyes. Wondering,
in the back of his mind, how the small girl had possibly survived this long. Harry took off at a
sprint, unconsciously summoning a bubble shield around her, plucking her off the ground and running
back to his former position, this time closer to where Hermione fought.

It only took a second for Harry to realize that he had put himself in a dilemma. He couldn't
very well put the girl back down and leave her to her own defenses, but it was increasingly hard to
keep an eye out for the three girls (he had taken over Ginny and Luna when Ron and taken off to
find Tonks) with a young girl in his arms. The girl, for her part, seemed much calmer in
Harry's arms, appearing to only be waiting to see what would happen next.

“You and me both,” Harry muttered as he scanned the area for a safe place to put the girl. No
luck.

Hermione glanced up, her eyes widening at the sight of the child. “Get her out of here!” she
shouted. Harry shook his head, maintaining his ground as he desperately tried to find another
option.

Hermione, of course, knew what he was thinking, taking a risk by sending a glare in his
direction. “For goodness sake, Harry, I'm fine! *Stupefy!* Just get that girl away from
here. It's not safe. *STUPEFY!*” The stubborn Death Eater, amazingly, finally fell, but
this only caused two that had been hovering nearby to take over in his place. “Take her to
Grimmauld Place or something!”

Before Harry could reply, Ron ran up to him. “Tonks and I have decided the best way to go at
this is quantity. We figure strategy won't do a fat lot of good with how many there are, but if
we shoot enough at them, something's bound to take them down.” It wasn't until after
he'd said this that he seemed to notice the small girl leaning against Harry's chest. “What
are you holding that kid for?”

Though he knew it was not the best time for it, Harry rolled his eyes, “I thought I'd use
her as a shield.” When the girl tensed up in fright Harry smiled kindly at her, “I'm kidding.”
The child appeared to believe him, relaxing once again.

Ron nodded, “Right. Stupid question. Reducto!” All this accomplished was some damaged brick as
the Death Eater the curse was intended for jumped out of the way in time.

“Harry, get her out of here!” Hermione shouted again, “I'm fine!”

Harry couldn't leave though, and instead gently, but quickly, handed the girl over to Ron.
Hastily he pulled off his medallion and clipped it onto the girl's own small skirt. He took her
back and turned to Hermione, “Look, I can hold her. It's fine!”

But Hermione was not listening any longer. Five Death Eaters were now beginning to corner her, a
certain happy evil emanating from them as they inched closer and closer, blocking her in. She was
calculating, Harry could tell, but for the first time in a long time, he also saw a glimmer of
panic in her eyes. He watched, as her feet backed up slowly while she steadily fired off jinxes,
attempting to by herself some time. Harry tried to inch closer to her, but movement was difficult
as he was trying to protect the small girl and himself simultaneously from a couple of stubborn
Death Eaters who had noted his predicament. It wasn't long before Hermione eventually came in
contact with the brick wall behind her, sucking in a breath as she realized that she was indeed
trapped. Having achieved what seemed to have been planned, the five Death Eaters ceased movement as
well, looking at each other now, possibly debating something.

Without a second thought, Harry, noticing Ginny standing beside him, hastily handed her the girl
and took off towards the Death Eaters, halting as he heard Hermione's voice.

*Stop, before they hit you, too!*

*Better me than you*, Harry thought, not sure if she could hear him or not. The one in the
center uttered something to the other four, then they turned, slowly towards Harry, clearly seeing
him as a threat. He saw Hermione's eyes widen, but as she raised her wand the one in the center
raised his own. “Expelliarmus!” he called, flinging her wand far away. “Stupefy!”

Harry tried to run towards her, thinking her could pull her out, but the other four Death Eaters
that had turned began to attack.

Ron came up and helped him, throwing up shield after shield and uttering every counter-curse he
could think of, but these Death Eaters were clearly skilled. Trained, it seemed. This was as
difficult as fighting Hermione or Tonks, only there were four of them, making it that much harder,
even if Ron was at his side. At last, one fell, and Harry realized what their purpose indeed had
been - a distraction.

The middle one was doing something now. His lips moved rapidly, soundlessly, as some kind of
green sphere - *an orb?* Harry wondered - formed in his palm. Hermione was clearly frozen, but
Harry could not tell if it was involuntary, and he was suddenly that much more desperate to reach
her, but three still stood in his way, and though Luna was helping now, that wasn't enough. He
risked a second, turning around to find Tonks, realizing that few even noticed anything out of the
ordinary was going on. The Aurors were doing an excellent job, and it seemed that at last, there
were no more Death Eaters to show up, but there were still many left.

Frustrated, Harry turned back to the three Death Eaters, quickly reaching to wipe the sweat off
his brow as he mentally went over every spell he knew, finally landing on an idea he prayed would
work, if only temporarily. “*Avis Oppugno!*” he shouted, watching as a flock of birds attacked
the Death Eaters, remembering when Hermione had done the same to Ron.

It worked, they were distracted and Harry was able to get around them and closer to the last
one, slowing about three meters away, considering his next move as he carefully inched closer,
afraid of what it was in the man's hand.

The orb seemed to be at about full size now, about fifteen centimeters in diameter, and the
Death Eater was practically bouncing it, almost giddily, in his palm. Harry reached out-

*No!* Hermione's voice was there again. Harry looked at her, frozen, but with eyes
moving wildly. *Don't provoke him!*

*I have to do something.* He thought desperately.

*Just stay there!*

*No!*

*Please!*

“NO!” he finally shouted in reply, but this did not have the effect he would have hoped. Almost
as if the word had startled the Death Eater, he wasted no more time, thrusting the orb through the
air.

It took no more than a second for the orb to penetrate Hermione's abdomen, the force pushing
her into the wall and rendering her unconscious. The orb, now inside of her, flashed, blinding
everyone in the area with an unbelievably bright light before disappearing, along with every single
Death Eater on the platform. Silence fell upon the platform everyone as they all turned to where
Hermione lie, now bleeding quickly.

For the first time Harry noticed the headmistress standing on the platform. She turned to back
Ron immediately, “Go fetch Madam Pomfrey and bring her to Grimmauld Place!” Ron obeyed without
question. Harry sprinted to Hermione, pulling off his cloak of as he crouched beside her, wrapping
it around her midsection to slow down the blood that was rapidly leaving her body.

“Oh Merlin,” he heard Tonks' voice as she came to his side, taking over in place of his
shaky hands. Harry could hear muffled screams or terror behind him, but only vaguely.

McGonagall seemed to notice, as well. “Let's get her out of here.”

Harry nodded, lifting her limp body off of the ground and popping away, landing in the foyer of
Grimmauld Place and immediately sprinting up the stairs to their bedroom.

“What took you guys so…” Malfoy had begun to call as he heard footsteps, but abruptly stopped at
the sight. “What happened?” he almost croaked.

Harry didn't bother with a reply, only shaking his head as he continued to walk, “Open the
door.” He tried his best to remain calm on the outside, though inside he was panicking. *Please
don't let he be dead,* he thought. *Please don't let her be dead*.

Tonks was already in the room when they walked in, pulling back blankets and sheets as Harry
tenderly set Hermione on the bed. Madam Pomfrey showed up moments later, stepping out of the
fireplace and pulling off her cloak as she began to inspect Hermione, her face pale.

“I need everyone out of this room,” she said as she opened the bag she had brought along, “And
I'll need someone to fetch a nurse from the hospital. I must operate.”

Harry tried to stay where he was, shaking his head and crossing his arms stubbornly even when
Professor McGonagall tried to force him out, but Tonks convinced him to go, speaking gently, “Even
though she's unconscious she might sense that you're here and feel anxious or panic if she
hears what you are thinking.”

So he let himself be led out, Ron running up with Ginny and Luna as Tonks closed the door behind
them. “I'll go fetch a nurse,” she told them, then Disapparated.

The teens, except for Harry, looked at McGonagall uneasily for a few moments until she finally
spoke, “Well. I think it's safe to say that there is much that must be attended to. I'll be
back to check on Miss Granger soon.”

Ron read Harry's pale face and, Harry had a hunch, probed his emotions a bit, “Is she going
to be okay?”

“Madam Pomfrey says she'll need to operate.”

“What happened to her?” Malfoy asked again, his eyes narrowed as if thinking, “There aren't
many curses that do that kind of damage.”

“It wasn't a curse,” Luna answered, crossing her arms, “That Death Eater threw
something…”

“A greenish orb,” Ginny interrupted.

“…Inside of her,” Luna finished, her eyes narrowed.

Draco paled visibly, “Was there a blinding light after impact? Like an explosion?” They all
nodded and his eyes widened. He turned and headed to where Madam Pomfrey was, shutting the door
behind him.

Ron was the first to speak, “Is it good or bad that he knows something?”

Harry sighed, suddenly very tired, “Bad if you consider where he probably gained the knowledge.
Good if that knowledge helps Hermione.”

“Right.”

Pinching the bride of his nose, Harry shifted on his feet. He could not stay around all of these
people, even if it was only his friends. The walls of the hallway felt as if they were closing in
on him, sucking the oxygen out of the air. “Look, I can't just stand here and do nothing but I
know Madam Pomfrey well enough to know there isn't much I can do to help. I reckon someone
should tell Hermione's parents what's happened.”

“I'll go with you,” Ron said, “But you should probably change your clothes before we leave.
You can borrow one of my shirts.” Harry looked down and noticed what Ron was talking about; even if
one did not include the bloodstains his shirt was sufficiently ruined.

“We'll stay and let you know if anything changes,” Ginny told him.

“Okay, but you should go down to the kitchen or something. I have a feeling it's going to be
awhile up here,” Harry pointed out, then headed down the hall.

When they reached Ron's room, Harry turned to his friend, “Could you, um, give me a minute
or something? I need to figure out what I'll say to her parents.” It was a lie, but he
didn't really care if Ron realized that or not, which he probably did.

Ron nodded, “Sure mate.”

After grabbing a shirt, Harry sat heavily on Ron's bed, taking a few deep breaths,
remembering when he had gone and picked out the mattress with her. As if the thought had pulled
some kind of trigger, Harry was overwhelmed with a wave of some horrible feeling he couldn't
possibly describe, blinking as he felt the heat rise from his throat all the way through him, his
eyes watering slightly. He began to suck in air quickly, unable to obtain enough air from his
surroundings.

“Woah, mate,” Ron said, walking in from where he'd been standing outside the doorway,
“Breathe. Slowly.”

Harry followed the instructions, putting his head in his sweaty palms. “What if she isn't
okay, Ron? What if there's nothing Madam Pomfrey can do?”

Ron hesitated for a moment, crossing his arms as he leaned on a long leg, choosing his words. “I
have more faith in Hermione and Madam Pomfrey to think something like that could happen,” he said
at last, “I've never been more scared of two women in my life. Except maybe my mum. Or Ginny.
Or Luna.”

Harry let out a reluctant, pitiful laugh, but it was short-lived, “That just about narrows it to
every female you know.”

Ron smiled only a little, “What happens will happen. We can't worry about it too much.
Let's just work on things one at a time.”

“Starting with telling Hermione's parents she might die,” Harry pointed out.

“Starting with telling Hermione's parents that she's been injured,” Ron corrected.

“Badly.”

Ron sighed, “Fine. Badly.”

Harry stood up slowly, “You know I told her dad I would take care of her?”

“Yeah?”

Harry nodded, “She rolled her eyes and told him she could take care of herself, but I told him I
would just the same. It just… I hate to go back there and look him in the eye knowing I
failed.”

“You didn't fail.”

“Yes I did.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

Ron rolled his eyes, “Yes, Harry. Fine. You failed. It is completely your fault. Now be a man
and face it.”

Harry smiled slightly, glad to have Ron with him, “Let's go.” Ron nodded, and together they
Disapparated.

Telling Hermione's parents turned out to be a difficult task. Harry had to select his words
carefully, choosing how descriptive to be (he decided that more vague was better) and trying to
explain it in Muggle terms. After a few minutes Ron and Harry brought them back to Grimmauld Place,
meeting up with everyone: Ginny, Luna, Malfoy, Remus, Tonks, and, obviously having been contacted,
Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, and Fred and George.

After receiving a hot cup of tea from Tonks Harry chose to stand in the corner, watching
everyone. It was clear that the Grangers still had a million questions and were looking for someone
to blame, most likely Harry, but upon seeing his state, which was growing more exhausted by the
second - his arms, which had originally only hurts from pushing the train felt internally bruised -
they seemed to let it go, if only temporarily, and sat quietly with everyone else. Ron looked up a
few times, concerned, but Ginny or Luna would take notice and distract him, leaving Harry alone in
his secluded corner, the only sounds being an occasional barely-there whisper.

And then they waited.

~*~

A/N: I'll try to make this quick.

First off, I must thank Lady Starlight and Madscientist for helping me out with this chapter,
and Lady Starlight for not being cruel when I sent her the very first draft that, I'll admit,
stunk.

Secondly, I am very sorry for the wait. Hopefully by now you know that when I don't post I
have good reasons, because I really do love when I can write and give you all quick updates. You
really do deserve a chapter a day and if I could give it to you, I really would.

Thirdly, I think it is hideously unfair for you to have to wait between posts with no word from
me, so if you ever want to see how the next chapter is going, you can check out my livejournal at
http://xvicklesx.livejournal.com, where I will keep
you filled in. Feel free to leave nasty comments on there when I don't give you a chapter soon
enough.

Lastly, I've really gone out of my zone with this chapter, and it is really a product of
much frustration and teamwork and rewrites, so any and all observations/comments/critiques you have
to offer are greatly appreciated.

Okay, you may now commence tarring and feathering.

-->



21. Torture
-----------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Rating: It's been moved back to PG-13. I'm not yet sure if it will be moved back up.

Disclaimer: I had a meeting with Voldemort in Knockturn Alley the other day. He agreed to kill
JKR for me if I bring Malfoy to him. How can I possibly be asked to make such a choice? I care for
Malfoy just as much as the other characters, but JKR must get out of the picture!

Author's Note: There was an embarrassing amount of typing errors in the last chapter, but (I
believe) all of them have been fixed, and were not consequential. However, at the end of the
chapter it said there was a little boy waiting with everyone in the kitchen. Some reviewers thought
I meant little girl, but I actually didn't mean to have either of them there and it was a
remainder from one of the first drafts. It's been deleted, so if you would like to go verify
what I actually meant it is one of the last paragraphs of chapter 20.

~*~

Chapter 21: Torture

~*~

The Kitchen was quiet, with only an occasional hushed word disrupting the steely silence of the
room. While Harry was grateful for the tacit company - it meant that he was not being questioned -
he was able to hate it as well. The quieter the room remained the louder his thought persisted.

Images of her being cornered and Stupefied replayed as a constant blur behind the one vision
that hurt the most, and consequently remained the most prominent. A blinding light, then all of
them gone…leaving her there to die on the cobblestone ground.

*She isn't going to die*, Harry tried to reassure himself, but it was of little use.
Every time he tried to remove the thought from his mind, he would recall the blood - so much blood
- that had spilled forth from her abdomen. Harry had seen the one part of Hermione that he was
never meant to see. No one should ever be exposed in such a way to the ones they love. Again and
again and again the images flashed, with nothing he could do to stop it. Shutting his eyes only
made the pictures more vivid, and opening them forced him to see his thoughts reflected through
everyone else in the room.

Shaking his head, Harry jumped down from the counter and quickly left the kitchen, unsure of
where he was going. Footsteps sounded behind him as he climbed the stairs, and he felt Ron's
presence, though his friend did not speak. Without realizing it, they soon found themselves in
front of the heavy door that led to the roof. Sucking in a fresh batch of air, Harry turned back to
Ron, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke, “Come get me when…” he hesitated, “when there's
news.”

Ron nodded, “Of course.” They stood silently for a moment before he spoke again, “Want to be
left alone?”

“Yeah,” Harry did not bother being polite, but knew Ron would feel bad about leaving him alone,
so went on, “Besides, Ginny and Luna need you more than I do.” It was a pathetic excuse, but it
would do.

Ron was understanding, “You're right. I'll be back for you later if you don't
return.”

Once Ron was no longer sight, Harry turned and, his hand trembling slightly, rotated the
doorknob, stepped through the door, and walked slowly up the stone stairs until he reached the
roof.

The sun was now setting, casting brilliant shades of various colors across the night sky. Harry
felt like it was mocking him. Things should never be so beautiful on such an ugly day. A day like
this deserved clouds, rain even, though that would be no good either. Rain would only serve to
remind Harry of the other time he had been on the same rooftop. Had it really only been just over a
month ago? It felt like ages ago as Harry recalled the warmth of her embrace and the coolness of
the rain as it fell against their cheeks.

Harry watched as below a boy, undoubtedly Muggle, rode by in a bright red bicycle. Perhaps he
was heading home, or maybe he was meeting up with some friends. Harry hoped the boy had friends.
Hoped that those friends were safe and that he would never have to go through the things he'd
been forced to go through with Hermione and Ron. Hoped that the boy would never have to worry about
losing a friend through death.

They'd all talked about it. Ron and Hermione both agreed to stay with him. They understood
what they were getting in to, and while he did not like it, somehow Harry had been able to accept
it. But now, he was no longer so sure. Could he really continue to let things like this happen?
Harry could not face the Weasleys if something were to ever happen to Ron. As it was, he could
barely look the Grangers in the eye. How would he ever even stand in their presence if Hermione
were to *die*?

“Please don't let her die,” Harry said out loud to no one in particular, “I don't care
what I have to do, just don't let her die.” He felt himself losing his composure and took a few
deep breaths. He would not lose it. Not yet. Not when there was still hope, if only a glimmer.

It was a moonless night and the clouds he had wanted earlier had finally appeared. The
streetlamps had just turned on, yet their light did little to illumine those above. Harry heard the
door open, but didn't move as Ron came up and stood beside Harry, leaning against the same
section of rooftop. Harry couldn't read his features in the darkness, and couldn't bring
himself to ask. Ron must have picked up on this, speaking after a moment, “Madam Pomfrey says
she'll make it.”

It startled him. Harry hadn't realized until just then how much he had resigned himself to
losing the one person he loved more than any other on the entire planet. “Really?” he asked, the
air sucked right out of him.

Harry felt Ron smile and, without further ado, pulled his friend into a tight hug,. “How is
she?”

“She's sleeping. You can see her, but her parents are with her now…” He continued talking,
but Harry heard no more as he ran down the steps and through the door, down the hall a short
distance to their room, anxious to see her.

Madam Pomfrey was standing outside the door and had a look on her face that Harry took to mean
she would not let him through. When he tried to simply side-step her, she stood in his way,
blocking his path. “Mr. Potter, Miss Granger already has two visitors. You can see her when they
leave.”

Harry sighed. This would not do. He apologized to Madam Pomfrey, “Please don't take this
personally ma'am, for I do appreciate all that you have done today, honestly, but I really must
see her *right now*.” It was the truth. Harry was practically bursting out of his skin knowing
that he was standing so close and yet so far away.

Ron came up behind him, talking to Madam Pomfrey, “Couldn't you just let him in for a little
while? He's been killing himself for hours.”

Madam Pomfrey looked at Harry again and softened - Harry restrained a grin at this - and spoke
sternly, “You have two minutes, Mr. Potter.”

Harry wasted no time, rushing past her and through the door. Hermione's mother was sitting
beside Hermione on the bed, her father at the foot. Both were just watching her quietly, but it was
obvious they did not want to be disturbed. However, though he felt a twinge of guilt, the better
part of him didn't care. He hurried to the other side of the bed and kneeled on the floor,
taking one of her cool hands (the room was rather drafty and Harry suspected her blood circulation
wasn't up to par at the moment) in both of his and placing it against his dirty cheek.
Happiness overwhelmed him as he watched her chest rise and fall. She was breathing. She was
alive.

The tears he had been holding in for the past several hours threatened to finally spill down his
cheeks as he kissed her hand once, tenderly, reaching another hand out to stroke her hair.
Forgetting her parents, he spoke softly, almost a whisper as he blubbered on with words of no real
importance. He kissed her hand again, squeezing it.

A throat was cleared and Harry looked up at the doorway to see a smiling Ron, eyes glistening
slightly.

“Yeah?” Harry asked, his voice wobbly.

“Madam Pomfrey's patience is wearing thin.”

Harry nodded and looked lovingly at Hermione, torn. He didn't want to leave her, but he knew
it was best. It would not do to upset her parents, and Harry suspected a part of her might sense
her surroundings, and disturbing it would definitely not be a good idea. Harry decided to wait
until her parents left. Giving her a swift kiss, he whispered in her ear, “I'll be right
outside.” He stood and left the room, avoiding the Grangers' gaze as he did so.

When they reached the hallway, Harry, tired, waved a hand, conjuring a cushioned chair. Once he
sat down, he looked up at Ron. “What?” he asked in response to his friend's odd expression.

“How long have you been able to conjure things like that?”

Harry shrugged. “I've stopped keeping track of when weird powers manifest themselves.”

“Do you want to come with me to the kitchen to get something to eat?”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “I'm staying right here. Besides, I'm not really hungry.” This
statement was betrayed by the fact that his stomach was growling and his hands were trembling.

Ron grinned, “How about a small sandwich or something?”

Harry sighed, “Fine. Have Malfoy bring it though. I need to have a word with him.”

With a nod of understanding, Ron took back off down the stairs. Once he was gone, Harry leaned
his head back, allowing his eyes to rest for just a moment. Next thing he knew, someone was tapping
him on the side of the head. “Potter,” an annoyingly familiar voice kept repeating, “Potter. Wake
up.”

Harry opened his eyes, finding Draco holding a rather large tray of food. Harry snorted, taking
the tray from his hands, “He said just a small sandwich.”

Draco ignored Harry's comment, “Weasley said you wanted to talk to me?”

Harry nodded, standing and waving a hand, at which the chair disappeared. He turned to Madam
Pomfrey, who was sitting outside the room, occasionally going inside to monitor her patient.
“I'll be down the hall if she wakes up, okay?”

The woman nodded. Harry looked back to Draco, “Come on.”

At the other end of the hall, in a slightly secluded corner, Harry conjured two more chairs
beside a small table that had already been sitting there. Setting his tray on the table, he sat,
waiting for Malfoy to do the same. “Surely you know what I want to talk to you about.”

Draco shrugged. “I have a hunch.”

“What do you know about that thing they hit Hermione with?”

Draco sighed, “I don't know much.”

Harry tried to keep his patience, “I didn't ask you how much you know.”

“Fine.” He took a moment before responding, “It's widely known as a death orb among dark
circles, but I know it has another name, I just don't know what it is. Snape is the one working
on it, and has been for about as long as you and I have been alive, from what I hear.”

“What does it do?”

Draco hesitated, wincing slightly, “It's designed for single targets. Sort of a hit and run.
It isn't meant for widespread injuries, which is the reason the Dark Lord has had no real
interest in it. He's big on numbers; mass murder. The only reason he's taken any notice of
it lately is that he's seeing potential in it; seeing what it could do.”

“Which is what?”

“Kill you.” When Harry remained silent, Draco went on, “See, not many people know this, but the
Dark Lord is very threatened by you, as well as Weasley and Granger. The way he acts and talks,
most think that he considers you three pests that simply won't go away, but many on the inner
circle are realizing that you three could defeat him given the opportunity.”

Harry leaned in now, intrigued, “Really?”

He nodded. “From what people are telling me, he threw a lot of Death Eaters at you earlier, am I
right?”

“Yes. There were at least fifty.”

“That right there should tell you something. He would never use that many in a simple civilian
attack. He'd send about ten thugs and tell them to kill as many as possible. Then, by using the
orb, it was like he was attempting to ensure that one of you would die.”

“But it didn't work. Hermione didn't die.” Harry pointed out.

“She would have,” Draco replied grimly.

“What do you mean?”

“The orb is designed to kill, and based on where it hits decides the method of death. Where she
was hit, Granger should have bled out, but slowly after the initial blood from the impact.”

“How slowly?” Harry asked, horrified.

Draco did not seem to want to say it, “It could have taken weeks.”

Harry repressed the vomit that threatened to escape at such an appalling thought. “Do you know
why didn't she die?”

“I've been Snape's understudy since about the age of seven. I've worked with him on
this thing and know that spells that have gone into it. The orb is like a combination of the
Killing Curse and the Cruciatus, but neither of them is actually in the orb. It's a delicate
balance of many smaller things, like jinxes and the more dangerous charms. Therefore, all Madam
Pomfrey needed was to know what those were so she could reverse the effect.”

Harry shook his head, processing this, “I thought you said you didn't know much.”

“I don't,” Draco replied, becoming irritated, “I only know how everything works
theoretically, but most of the progress seems to have been made this summer. So, obviously, I know
nothing about that. I can't tell you how they are going to use it any more than you can, and I
can't tell you why they hit who they did. All I could do was keep it from doing its job.” He
had begun speaking faster, his words a bit heated.

Harry knew that he should thank him, but the words simply would not come. “The Death Eater that
threw it, the orb just formed in his hand. How does that work?”

“Did you see his lips moving?” Draco asked, curious.

“Yes. Very rapidly.”

Draco nodded, “It's a long and complicated spell in ancient Latin, even different from most
spells we use. Whoever conjured it had undoubtedly been training to do it for a long time now.
I'm not surprised they had four expert fighters to back him up. I can assure you it had nothing
to do with you.”

Harry chose to ignore that last remark, not at all in the mood for a fight. “They were pretty
good. Usually Death Eaters are all about Unforgivables, but these guys actually used strategy.”
When Draco didn't reply Harry sighed, moving to stand, “I should go check on Hermione.” He had
no sooner stood than his legs began to wobble.

Draco rolled his eyes, “For goodness sake's, Potter, just eat something. Here,” he grabbed a
mini sandwich off the tray and stuffed it in Harry's open mouth. “Now chew. Good job.” Heading
back down the hall, Harry heard him muttering to himself, “Stupid Gryffindor can't even feed
himself because his precious girlfriend is wounded…”

Swallowing the food and grabbing another sandwich, Harry headed back down the hall to Madam
Pomfrey, who exhaled rather loudly as he took a seat on the floor. “Really Mr. Potter. It could be
hours, honestly, and I refuse to crowd my patient. Why don't you get some rest yourself?”

Harry just smiled, “I'm fine right here. Aren't you the least bit glad to have some
company?”

The way she crossed her arms and turned away from him answered that question quite clearly, so
Harry returned to his sandwich. Not more than ten minutes later did Harry hear footsteps, then a
bang. Harry looked up to see Tonks sprawled out on the floor. She smiled as she stood, “And here I
thought I had been getting better.”

Harry laughed, “Some things can never be completely fixed.”

She cocked her head to one side as she took a seat in front of him, “So how are you doing?”

“She's alive.”

Tonks smiled, “That's good, but I asked how you are doing, not how she is doing.”

Harry shrugged, “I'm not sure I know the difference anymore.”

“Well, I have a bit of news that might make you happy.” Harry tilted his head, interested.
“I've been told that you saved a little girl?”

Harry nodded, “She somehow got lost in the shuffle. I just got her out.”

“I met up with her parents,” Tonks said, “They were very grateful and wanted me to pass on their
thanks, and the girl also asked me to return this to you.” She held up one of the small medallions
that Hermione had made. “She said you clipped this on her?”

“To protect her.”

“And removing your protection in the process,” Tonks pressed.

Harry shrugged, uncomfortable, “It was pretty much a no-brainer, Tonks. I am capable of
protecting myself. She's just a kid.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” she admitted, with a small frown, “Anyway, I just thought I'd
pass on that, thanks to you, the girl is perfectly fine.”

Harry smiled, “That's good.”

Tonks looked down at her watch, “And now I've got to be going. The press is going insane,
and McGonagall needs all the help she can get, trying to make sure her students are safe while
trying to keep random Ministry officials and Daily Prophet reporters from harassing them at the
same time. Of course, they would be bothering you too, if they could find you. The Minister of
Magic himself wants a private meeting. You want to come?”

“I'm not leaving Hermione.”

“I figured as much. I'll see you tomorrow morning for training.”

“What?” Harry asked, surprised.

“Hermione doesn't have to come, of course, but make sure you tell the others. Bye!” Before
Harry could reply, Tonks was gone.

Ron soon came walking up the stairs, taking a seat next to Harry and keeping him company as they
waited. About thirty minutes later, the Grangers stepped out of the room. Both boys got to their
feet.

“It's getting rather late,” Mr. Granger said, “And the doc—Healer said it could still be
hours.”

Mrs. Granger nodded, though it was obvious she didn't want to leave. Knowing he would regret
this later, Harry opened his mouth to reply, “You could spend the night here if you want.”

Both of the adults lit up. “Are you sure you have enough room?” Mr. Granger asked.

Ron laughed, “I think we'll manage. I'll go tell Dobby to set a room up.” He left them,
walking down the hall.

“Dobby? Do you mean one of those poor enslaved creatures Hermione tells us about?”

Harry was not surprised that Hermione had told them. “Well, yes, but Dobby is paid, or Hermione
would never let us keep him.” He chose not to mention Dobby's fetish with him or that he
probably didn't *have* to be paid. “Why don't you two go downstairs and get something
to eat while you wait? I'm sure you must be starved.”

Though they clearly hesitated, both of the Grangers nodded and left down the hall in the same
direction Ron had. As soon as they were out of sight, Harry rushed into the bedroom where Madam
Pomfrey was monitoring Hermione. She looked up at him, slightly irritated, “Mr. Potter, you may
stay, but please do not disturb my patient.”

Harry nodded, happy just to be near her again, “I wouldn't dream of it.” As the older woman
left, Harry pulled up a chair beside Hermione's bed, taking her hand in his again, carefully
stroking her cheek.

He smiled as she lay there peacefully, undoubtedly thanks to a Dreamless Sleep potion. Taking a
breath, he began to speak softly, “Why do these things always happen to you, Hermione? Do you
delight in placing me in cardiac arrest?” He sighed, “I have to say, though, this is one of the
biggest scares you've given me. Are you trying to break some kind of record?”

Hermione simply continued to sleep, so Harry went on, “Please try to be more careful from now
on, sweetie. I know this isn't your fault, but maybe if you would just quit being so stubborn
and let me help you once in awhile things like this wouldn't happen. It's not like anyone
doubts how strong you are, hon, we just think that you're human like the rest of us. Is that
such a bad thing? Please don't get mad. I respect your ability to defend yourself. I just
couldn't bare to lose you, you know that, right? I mean…” Harry stopped mid sentence as
Hermione began to stir. He watched as, very slowly, her eyes began to flutter open, looking around
the room unfocused.

“Harry?” she asked softly, her voice a bit scratchy.

Harry squeezed her hands, his heart welling up, “I'm right here.”

Her eyes followed the sound and finally rested on him, gradually coming into focus. She turned
her head, leaning into the palm of his hand.

Harry sighed, not wanting to leave her for a second but not wanting to disturb her more than
necessary, “I need to go get Madam Pomfrey so she can make sure you are alright, but I'll be
right back, okay?”

Hermione looked at him, as if processing his words about half as quickly as he said them,
finally nodding, though still confused, “Okay.”

Harry quickly ran to the door, fetched Madam Pomfrey, and speedily returned to her side as she
was inspected, kneeling beside her on the bed since Madam Pomfrey needed to stand where he had been
sitting. An array of colors lit up around her body, indicating different things that Harry
didn't make sense of. He could tell that Hermione still didn't fully understand what was
happening and took her hand, rubbing it as a reminder that he was right there. Just as Madam
Pomfrey began to speak, the Grangers walked in, somehow having been notified about their daughter.
They stood at the foot of the bed quietly.

“Miss Granger, do you know where you are?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

Hermione nodded, “Me and Harry's room.” Harry used all of his self control to avoid looking
at her parents.

“And what is the last thing you remember before waking up?”

Hermione concentrated, “There was an attack at the train station. I got cornered. Harry and I
were fighting because he wanted to get me out. But I didn't want to risk it, and thought I
could handle it. Then that Death Eater threw that green thing at me. I just remember feeling a
horrible flash of pain right before everything went black. Is that right?” She turned to Harry for
confirmation, who nodded.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, “That orb was designed to kill you, but thanks to Mr. Malfoy, I was able
to prevent that. I believe you will be okay, but unfortunately I cannot be sure about what kind of
long term effects this might or might not have.”

Hermione looked at Harry, smiling weakly, “I bet you just hate it that Malfoy did something
good.”

Harry shook his head, though she was right. “I would have hated it much more if you had
died.”

Hermione seemed unsure of how to reply, so focused her attention back on the older woman, “What
else is there?”

“You're very weak. I expect it to be at least a week or two before you can make it through a
whole day like a normal person should, and even a bit longer than that before you can return to
your normal rigorous routine. I've got some potions for you to take, but I'll talk to you
about that later.”

“But I will be okay, though?” Hermione confirmed, brow furrowed.

Madam Pomfrey hesitated briefly, something Harry did not like, “As I said, there is no way to
guarantee anything at this point, but my bets are one yes, eventually you will be your normal self
again. I do recommend bed rest for at least the next two or three days, though.”

Hermione nodded, “Thank you.”

“You're welcome. I must be going now. The Headmistress needs my assistance, but I will be
back to check on you periodically throughout the night, and don't hesitate to send for me if
something happens. Am I understood?” Hermione nodded again, and after a few more exchanges of
gratitude, Madam Pomfrey left.

There was a semi-awkward silence before Harry turned to Hermione. “Is there anything we can do
to make you more comfortable? Are you hungry or thirsty?”

Hermione shook her head, “Though maybe a cup of crushed ice would be nice. And could you prop me
up a bit? I feel odd being completely horizontal.”

Harry nodded, getting up off the bed, “I think we have some extra pillows in the closet.”

“And I'll go get you some ice, Sweetheart,” Mr. Granger said, leaving the room. Mrs. Granger
took Harry's seat by the bed. Harry entered the closet and found a small stack of pillows on
one of the shelves, and grabbed three, in case she wanted another.

When Hermione saw him coming towards the bed she tried to sit up, but her arms shook beneath
her, so Mrs. Granger pulled her up, holding her gently as Harry put two of the pillows on the one
already there. Carefully, Mrs. Granger placed Hermione back against the pillows, now sitting up
slightly. She smiled, “Thank you, that's much better.” A few minutes later Mr. Granger returned
with the ice. Not long after that, Dobby popped in, speaking with a proud smile, “Harry
Potter's Hermione's parents is having a room ready to sleep in! Dobby is taking them
there!”

The Grangers seemed unsure, but Hermione prodded them, “You should go and get some sleep.
I'm fine now.” It took a few more tries, but finally they consented, leaving them alone as
Dobby led them out.

Harry turned and lay down on the bed beside Hermione, every muscle in his body sore. Hermione
looked at him with pity, “You should go to sleep too.”

“I will in a minute, but I've got to get the energy to carry a blanket and a pillow over to
the couch.”

“Why would you need to do that?” Hermione asked confused.

Harry chuckled, sitting up, “First of all, because your parents are here, and I cannot morally
justify sharing a bed with you when they are under the same roof. Secondly, I don't want to
risk kicking you are something while I sleep.”

“I see.”

Harry got off the bed and set up the couch, pulling off his shirt and pants and putting on some
pajama bottoms. “Is there anything you need before I go to sleep?”

Hermione bit her lip in thought, “Well, you should probably put on a top, incase my parents come
to check on me.”

“Good idea,” Harry walked over to the dresser and pulled out a clean white t-shirt. “Anything
else?”

Hermione yawned, “How about a goodnight kiss?”

Harry smiled, “I think I could manage that.” He strode towards the bed and leaned over to give
her a quick, chaste kiss. “Good night.”

Hermione smiled, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Harry returned to the couch and it was no more than a minute before she could
hear him snoring softly.

A couple of minutes later there was a soft knock on the door, opening after a moment to reveal
the third member of the trio.

“Ron!” Hermione whispered happily as he took a seat by the bed, “I was wondering if you were
coming.”

“I was helping your parents get settled.”

“Oh. What about Ginny and Luna?”

“They both went home. They each promised to stop by tomorrow.”

“That's good.”

Ron smiled, “You really scared us, you know that? Harry practically lost it, and the rest of us
weren't doing much better. I think even Malfoy was a bit worried for a minute there.”

Hermione nodded, “I heard he's the reason I'm not dead.”

“Madam Pomfrey is the reason you're not dead,” Ron corrected, “He just had a few useful
facts for her.”

Hermione winced, “Do you think I have to thank him?” She smiled lightly, yawning.

“I suppose you do,” Ron replied sympathetically.

Hermione's eyes began to close, “What does he know?”

“I'm not sure,” Ron answered, “But I know Harry talked to him earlier. Merlin, I bet that
was uncomfortable. Just imagine it. Poor Harry. I wonder if he even thanked…” Ron stopped talking
as he realized Hermione had fallen asleep. Gently, he pulled a pillow out so she could lie down
properly, then turned the light out beside her bed, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead before
getting up to leave. “Good night, Hermione.” Then he shut the door behind him and went to bed
himself, putting an end to a very long day.

~*~

A/N: Big thanks to Lady Starlight as well as to all of those who reviewed for the last chapter.
Your comments were all really great. Thank you!

-->



22. The Morning After
---------------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: Did some thinking. I decided it was a bit rash to consider striking up deals with
Voldemort. Plus, Draco heard about the discussion and is now very cautious around me.

~*~

Chapter 22: The Morning After

~*~

Hermione woke up the next morning to the sounds of water running in the bathroom. Blinking
sleepily, she concluded it was Harry in the shower, but wondered why he would be up so early,
finding that it was only seven o'clock according to her watch on the nightstand.

Unable to fall back asleep, Hermione decided to grab a book, only to realize that she could
barely sit up, her limbs wobbly and her muscles weak. Slowly the memories of the previous day came
flooding back to her, and Hermione groaned in thought of what was coming. With a sigh, she flopped
her head back against the pillows. How long had Madam Pomfrey said she would be bed-ridden? A few
days? This would certainly not do.

The water shut off and less then a minute later, Harry came walking out of the bathroom,
positively adorable with his glistening, slightly-wet skin and his wet hair messy as usual.
Realizing that she was awake, he smiled, “Good morning beautiful. Did I wake you?” He then walked
over to a drawer and pulled out a pair of socks.

Hermione nodded, “Yes, I think so, but I don't really mind. I have an inkling I'll be
getting quite enough sleep, not that I'm tried or anything.” This comment did not stand up well
when she yawned immediately following the statement. Before Harry could make a remark, she
continued, “Why are you up so early anyway?”

Harry pulled the second sock on, sliding a bit on the hardwood floor as he walked to the bed,
sitting on the edge. He held her delicately and propped her up with some pillows as he spoke,
“Tonks will be here in about ten or fifteen minutes for training.”

“Thank you. You get to go to training?” Hermione asked with jealousy obvious in her tone.

Harry chuckled and nodded, “Yes, but I'm not nearly as excited as you seemed to be.”

Hermione crossed her arms, though it took some effort, “Who else gets to go to training?”

“It will only be Ron and myself. I'm having Malfoy write up a list of every single
ingredient inside of the *thing* that Death Eater threw at you - he should be bringing it by
later - and Ginny and Luna, being prefects, are helping McGonagall prepare this morning for the
transportation of students that will be taking place tomorrow. There's a lot of paperwork;
letters to be sent out and that sort of thing.”

“How are they doing it?” Hermione asked, curious.

“A lot of portkeys from what I understand. There's an article in the Prophet about it,
though it's very vague, obviously for security purposes. Dobby will have it with your breakfast
any minute now.”

Showing off his perfect timing, the little elf popped in right at that moment, beaming as
always. “Dobby has Hermione Granger's breakfast and newspaper, Harry Potter!”

Harry grinned, taking the tray from the little elf's hands and conjuring a small lap-table
to put in on. “Thank you Dobby.”

“Yes, thank you,” Hermione added with a smile.

With a blush that would have rivaled any Weasley, Dobby nodded and left.

Hermione looked at the small dish of soup with a glass of orange juice on the side. “This looks
good.” She lifted up her hand to grab the fork, but it began to tremble, then shake, resisting her
efforts. Finally she just let it fall back to her side, her eyes watering a bit with
frustration.

Harry reached over and grabbed the fork, “What do you want first?”

Hermione pouted, “I don't want you to feed me.”

“It's me, Dobby, or one of your parents,” he pointed out.

After holding her mouth firmly shut for a few more moments, Hermione gave in with a sigh, “I
would like some of the soup first, please.”

Harry pulled out a small spoonful; unsure of how much Hermione could eat, and then carefully put
the utensil in her mouth, resisting the urge to smile as she rolled her eyes and took the food.
This process was repeated a several more times before Hermione shook her head as he reached for
more, “That's enough for now. Could you give me some of the orange juice?”

Harry nodded, conjuring the straw and holding it out for her. As she took a drink, Tonks entered
the room, closely followed by Hermione's mother, who was holding a bowl of oatmeal.

Tonks, seemingly oblivious to the tension caused by the entrance of Hermione's mother, took
a seat on the bed beside Hermione and smiled brightly, “How's it going?”

Hermione took a few more sips of juice before letting Harry pull it away and put it back on the
tray. “It's frustrating.”

Tonks nodded, “I know how that is. I was taken down in the line of duty last year and forced to
stay in bed a full week, if you can believe it. I nearly went crazy!”

“That's exactly how I feel, and it's only been a few minutes!” Hermione agreed
enthusiastically, “It's as if my mind is completely alert but my body couldn't care less!
How did you make it?”

Tonks smiled then, “Remus kept me company.”

Hermione grinned and then looked at Harry darkly before turning back to Tonks, “Tell him he
isn't allowed to go to training.” Harry tried to ignore the obvious reaction Mrs. Granger had
to this suggestion, her body tensing up and her eyes widening just slightly.

Tonks patted Hermione on the shoulder sympathetically, “I'm afraid I can't help you.
It's very critical that we train now. I'd make you do it, too, but being as incapacitated
as you are at the moment, that is not an option. I promise that we will be done by noon, though.
How does that sound?”

Hermione sighed, something Harry had a feeling she would be doing much of for a while, allowing
her head to rest against the pillow, “That sounds like over four hours for me to lie here not
training with you guys.”

“I'll be here with you, dear,” Mrs. Granger said with an honest smile.

On the outside, Hermione nodded in gratitude to her mother, but Harry could hear her thoughts
frantic in his head.

*She's upset! Why does she look like she's ready to lecture me? I'm not up for
this today! Don't go!*

Harry smiled, helpless, and admittedly not wanting to hear what Mrs. Granger had to say, “See
Hermione? You'll be fine. I promise I'll be back by noon, okay?”

*Harry Potter I will never forgive you for this! So help me if you leave me with her
I'll…*

“Okay!” Harry stood, addressing Tonks, “I think we should get going! Is Ron ready?”

Tonks nodded, “He was grabbing some breakfast first, but he should be up there by now.”

“Right then, let's go.” Harry bent over and gave Hermione a quick kiss on the forehead,
trying to ignore her scowl, “Bye love. I'll see you later.”

Once he was gone, Hermione turned to her smiling mother and resisted a sigh. This was going to
be a long morning.

When they reached the attic, Harry found Ron waiting with an odd smile. “What's up with
you?” Harry asked him.

Ron continued grinning, “Hermione is irritated that you left her.”

“Not like I had much of a choice,” Harry pointed out, though he flashed a beam of gratitude
Tonks' way, “So what are we doing? Three-way dueling?”

Tonks shook her head, “I think we've had quite a bit of practice on dueling for awhile now,
and I'd rather hold off on going further with anything physical until Hermione's ready to
join us.”

The boys nodded, understanding this. “So what, then?” Ron asked.

“Actually, I thought we'd go back to your roots a bit. You all seem to have regained
complete control and balance of your powers after it was offset by the Triptych, and that it very
good. You, Harry, were stronger than ever pushing that train yesterday,” Harry's cheeks
reddened slightly as she turned to Ron, “And you are practically becoming an Empath, with the way
you can read their emotions even when you're not in the same room, and even seem to have in
under control most of the time. Can you tune them out if you wish?”

“Sometimes. Most of the time, it is like a faint hum inside of me. What's an Empath?” he
asked, puzzled.

“It's a witch or wizard, or sometimes even a muggle, born with the ability to feel
others' emotions. From what little knowledge I have on the subject, it's a gift and a
curse, since they are not limited to merely their two best friends.”

Ron nodded, “Blimey.”

“That's what I say. Anyway, on top of your own achievements, I'm hearing that our
Hermione is performing what I think constitutes as telepathy. Is that right?”

Harry quickly agreed with this, “She was using it before she got it. Most of the time, it can go
both ways. She'll send me a thought, and if I can form a reply clearly enough, she can read it
as if we are having a mental conversation. The only difference from it being truly two-way is that
I can never initiate it.”

“Still, that's rather brilliant. How's she doing with that?”

Ron cleared his throat uncomfortably and Harry bit back a laugh, recalling what had taken place
a few nights ago. Tonks eyed them curiously and Ron finally spoke. “There may have been a bit of an
accident there.”

“What kind of an accident?” she asked, a bit concerned now.

“Well…” Harry began for Ron, “The other night Hermione and I were…er…um…”

“Snogging,” Ron supplied helpfully, bright red.

Harry agreed, “And suddenly she stopped, shaking her head and talking to herself. She was
holding her head as if she was in pain.” Tonks' hand flew to her mouth, though Harry
couldn't read her eyes. “See, apparently at the very same time Ron and Luna were…erm…snogging
as well.”

Ron was now so flushed that Harry found it a challenge to figure out where his face ended and
hair began, “So Harry came down and put a stop to it and I discovered that apparently she could
hear my thoughts while I was *snogging my* *girlfriend*!”

Harry looked up to tap Tonks reaction to this, only to find her face quite red as well, the hand
still covering her mouth. For a moment, he considered that they may have embarrassed her by
discussing such intimate details of what went on in the house, but then he noticed her starting to
shake. It was subtle at first, but then she began to shake some more, until it was almost violent,
as if something from deep inside of her was trying to burst out.

And then it did.

A huge roaring laugh escaped Tonks lips as the hand finally lowered, touching her knee just as
the other hand as she braced herself, shaking with tearful laughter as she attempted not to fall
over. Being Tonks, Harry thought that this may be impossible, but somehow she managed it. Both boys
waited, stunned, until she finally seemed to let up, composing herself after a bit and standing,
the occasional giggle still escaping from her throat.

“I'm sorry,” she apologized, eyes dancing, “It's just that…I mean we adults have always
made jokes about what could happen,” she laughed, wiping a tear, “You know with so many teenagers
sharing a house…I had simply never considered…” Her eyes widened as she began to fan her face, “My
goodness. Poor Hermione! How does that girl even get up in the morning?”

Even Harry had to chuckle a bit at this, “I ask her that all of the time.”

Tonks sighed, taking a few deep breaths. “What were we talking about?” she asked, shaking her
head.

“Training,” Ron answered, still a bit pink on the edges.

“That's right. So, I was thinking that we could work on broadening these powers and helping
them connect you. The fact that Hermione is sharing thoughts is proof that it can be done. Also,
Ron, as I recall, didn't Moody try to get you to transfer your emotions to Hermione?”

Ron nodded, “But that didn't turn out too well.”

“Yes, I remember,” Tonks replied, thoughtful, “Though a part of me is saying that it just may
have been too early to try. I also wonder if there is any way for Harry to transfer his strength to
either of you.”

Harry brightened at this, “That would certainly help Hermione get up and running quicker. I can
already tell that she hates not being as strong as she can be.”

“That's a good point. It would also be quite a bit useful in battle. You never know how long
things can rage on, and while you, Harry, have a good bit of supernatural strength, Ron and
Hermione aren't so gifted, though obviously they have their own abilities. I also expect that
it could be helpful for Ron to pass on a bit of positive feeling when things get a little hopeless,
and I can definitely see opportunities with Hermione's mind-power. As well as thoughts, it
could even be possible for her knowledge, such as facts, or spells that the two of you may not
know. Do you see what I'm saying?”

Both nodded. “It's brilliant,” Harry complimented.

“Thank you,” Tonks said with a happy smile, “I expect Hermione's already started down this
road, but I would like you to fill her in anyway. I thought that this was something she would be
able to actively train in, though Madam Pomfrey has instructed that she is strictly off-limits
today, so we will begin tomorrow.”

“So what are we doing the rest of this morning?” Ron asked.

To their surprise, Tonks shrugged, “I really don't have much planned. I simply wanted to
make sure that you got information. How about you two dual for a bit? Only use your special powers,
though. I'll watch and we'll go from there.”

The two nodded in response, taking up their positions. Harry smiled menacingly at Ron. This
would be a great distraction.

Downstairs, Hermione was not having quite as good of a time, though her mother's mere
presence had promised that from the moment she entered the room. This was increasingly made worse
when her father entered only minutes after Harry's departure.

“Hermione,” her father had greeted her with a smile, but it was stiff, “How are you
feeling?”

“Perfectly fine,” Hermione replied, disgruntling her mother.

“She's weak. She can't even feed herself. Are you sure you're not hungry?”

Hermione restrained herself from rolling her eyes, “Mum, I told you I'm fine. It is not as
if I require a lot of energy to lie in bed all day. Besides, Harry fed me some before he left.” At
the mention of Harry, Hermione noticed her father stiffen up, her parents sharing a look. She
decided to do damage control before damage was done. Looking between her tacit parents, Hermione
decided her mother looked more approachable at the moment. “Dad? Could I have a minute alone with
Mum?”

Mr. Granger hesitated, but with a bit of pushing from his wife soon left the room, promising to
be just outside. When she was sure that he was gone, Hermione turned to her mother. “What's
going on?”

“Funny,” her mother replied, oddly sarcastic for her quiet nature, “I was going to ask you the
same thing, Hermione Jane Granger.”

Middle name. This was not good. Had Harry said something? No, he couldn't have. He was too
smart for that. “Mum, I'm sorry that I got hurt, but I told you that this could be
dangerous.”

Her mother sniffed, “That is not what I am talking about. I wouldn't dream of blaming you
for getting hurt protecting other people.”

Hermione's brow furrowed, “Then what exactly is this about? You seem angry and Dad can
barely look at me. Did something happen that I should know about?”

Crossing her arms, Mrs. Granger looked her daughter straight in the eye, “How long have you been
sharing a room with that boy?”

Hermione stiffened, “How did you find out?” She mentally smacked herself as she looked around
the room. It was clearly obvious that it wasn't just hers, if only by the faint scent of
aftershave wafting in from the bathroom.

“You mentioned it yesterday as you were waking up, when Madam Pomfrey was asking you
questions.”

Hermione searched her memory, and finally came to it, mentally smacking herself. “It's been
about a month. Maybe a bit longer,” she answered.

“A month?” her mother asked, shocked, then Hermione could see the lecture building in her mind,
“Hermione…”

“Mum,” she interrupted, “Before you say anything I want you to know that I Harry and I
haven't done anything.”

This deflated the older woman a bit, “You haven't?”

“No.”

Mrs. Granger narrowed her eyes, “Hermione are you lying to me?”

Hermione shook her head, “No, Mum. I swear we haven't done anything besides kiss.” Okay, so
it had gone a *bit* farther than that, but Hermione figured she should spare her mother of the
details.

“Then why do you even…” Mrs. Granger was confused.

Hermione sighed, desperately wishing she was strong enough to pull her knees up to her chest and
hide behind them. “We can't sleep.”

“Can't sleep,” her mother raised an eyebrow.

“When we're in separate rooms,” Hermione answered. “I'm not exactly sure why it never
came up. I suppose the opportunity never really presented itself, not that we needed it, seeing as
we're still young even now.” Pointing out that she was aware of her youth seemed to please her
mother. She went on, “See, it all started a few nights after we moved in here. I had a really
horrible nightmare that Harry died, and it really freaked me out, so he brought me up here and sat
with me until I calmed down. After awhile he actually asked me if I was okay to return to my own
bed, but, as I said, I was really shaken, so I asked if I could just stay here.” Hermione smiled at
the memory, “He was a perfect gentlemen and lay on top of the covers, by the way.”

Mrs. Granger nodded, as if internally debating, “But what do you mean you can't sleep?”

“For the next couple of weeks after that it was virtually impossible to fall asleep when I
wasn't in here, and from how tired Harry looked I have a feeling he was having similar issues.
After we started…you know, being boyfriend and girlfriend, it just didn't make sense for us to
keep putting ourselves through that. Also, Ron wanted my mattress,” Hermione added with a laugh,
then winced at the pain it caused.

“Your father and I still don't approve of you sharing a room with a boy. You're only
seventeen, after all,” her mother replied after a moment.

“I'm almost eighteen,” Hermione pointed out, but it sounded juvenile even to her ears.

“*But*,” her mother added after a moment, “You promise me that you aren't doing
anything?”

“I promise. Harry and I discussed, and I told him I'm waiting until marriage,” Again,
Hermione left out that she had begun to reconsider this, but felt it unnecessary to mention since
either way it would still not be any time soon, “And he hasn't so much as mentioned it
since.”

“A perfect gentleman,” her mother stated, though she seemed a bit doubtful.

Hermione couldn't help but smile, though, “He is. I love him, Mum.” The words floated out of
her mouth without her hardly realizing it. She waited as her mother sat in silence for many
moments. When she began to no longer stand it, she tilted her head, trying to read her mother's
features, “Please say something, Mum.”

Mrs. Granger sighed, “I find it hard to imagine that at once in my life I pictured having an
ordinary child. Now my seventeen-year-old brilliant witch of a daughter is off trying to save the
world and in love with a boy who can fling people across a room simply by waving his hand.”
Hermione was reminded of the trio's previous visit to the Granger house.

Hermione smiled sadly, “Have I disappointed you?”

Her mother shook her head, “No, of course you haven't, dear. I just find it odd that your
father and I have yet to suffer whiplash from all of these surprises. We only want the best for
you, you know.”

Hermione nodded, “I do.”

“And you seem happy, despite the fact that you're stuck in bed.”

“I am.”

Mrs. Granger smiled, her thoughts wandering as she looked at the wall that was lined with
bookshelves, “There was a time when you'd have been perfectly content to lie in bed all day,
reading books and such. Where'd that little girl go?” Hermione's heart broke a little when
she noticed her mother's eyes watering. Using all of her effort, she reached out an unsteady
hand and set it on her mother's own.

“She's still there. She's just…grown up a bit, that's all.” Hermione smiled, a
little wobbly.

“I miss you,” Mrs. Granger finally admitted. Her voice cracked and a tear fell down her cheek,
smudging her makeup.

Hermione bit her lip, tears forming in her own eyes as well, “I miss you, too.”

Mrs. Granger reached out and pulled her daughter into her arms, holding onto her for a rare and
sacred moment, stowing it in her memory forever. Hermione let herself be held, simultaneously doing
the same. For a moment, she decided, she would just be someone's daughter. Heroine of the
Wizarding World could wait a minute or two.

Upstairs, Tonks stood and sighed, “Alright boys! I think we're about done here.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, looking at his watch. It was only just after just ten
o'clock.

Tonks nodded, smirking, “Yes, I'm sure, and it wouldn't hurt you to rescue your
girlfriend, Potter. I have to go. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow!”

When she was gone, Ron turned to Harry, speaking, “You know, you really should go save
Hermione.”

Harry shook his head, “I am willing to rescue Hermione from trolls, Petrification by overly
large snakes, criminals, werewolves, Dementors, Death Eaters, and even Voldemort himself, but I am
not willing to rescue her from her own parents.”

Ron outright laughed at this statement, “Are you telling me that you're afraid of the
Grangers?”

Harry nodded.

“But they're Muggles!” Ron exclaimed, “If they try anything you can just wave your hand and
freeze them or conjure a cage or whatever it is that you're doing now. Though, that probably
wouldn't make them like you much more,” he added as an afterthought.

“Do not underestimate Muggles,” Harry replied, “The Dursleys are Muggles.”

Ron winced, “Still, you know that you should. You're no coward Harry.”

Harry rolled his eyes in response to this, crossing the attic to the door and slowing only to
pat Ron on the shoulder. “No, I'm not. Thanks for making me feel guilty about it,” he added
sarcastically as he left.

Ron watched his friend leave, grinning, “No problem.”

When Harry reached his bedroom, he was surprised to see Mr. Granger sitting at the foot of the
stairs outside of a closed door, reading a novel. “What's going on?” he asked, pulling Mr.
Granger out of his book.

“Hermione and her mother asked for a moment alone,” the man sighed in reply, marking his
page.

Nodding, Harry began to back away, “Okay. Well, I'll just come back later then.” Before he
could move a meter Mr. Granger spoke again.

“Harry, come over here and sit down for a minute.” Harry waited, facing the other direction, for
the other painful part. “I want to have a chat with you.”

Making his face carefully neutral, Harry nodded and turned, taking a seat on the steps beside
Mr. Granger. When he had found the most comfortable position possible, Harry spoke, “What is it
that you wanted to speak to me about, sir?”

Hermione's father seemed to ponder this question for a moment, “What do you think it is that
I want to talk to you about, Harry?”

Despite himself, Harry fidgeted, “I can't read minds, sir.”

Mr. Granger laughed, though it was stiff. With a sigh, he got to the point, “Why are you sharing
a room with my daughter?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything the door opened, Mrs. Granger
standing at the threshold, her eyes a bit red. She looked between the two of them, and then spoke
to Harry, smiling a little, “Harry, why don't you go keep an eye on Hermione for a moment. My
husband and I have some things to talk about.”

Certainly not wanting to stay outside, Harry only nodded as he walked past her, faintly hearing
the click of the door behind him. When he reached the bed, sitting beside Hermione, he noticed that
her eyes were slightly red as well, less than her mother's. Frowning, he reached up a wiped a
bit of wetness from her cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

Hermione nodded, looking down at her folded hands, “I was just talking to my mum, that's
all.”

“How did that go?” Harry inquired kindly.

“I told her everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes.”

“What does that mean?”

“I didn't give her every sordid detail, but I explained why we share a room,” Hermione
answered, “And I told her that she haven't done anything and don't plan to anytime
*soon*, and that seemed to help quite a bit. I told her that I love you.”

Harry smiled, guiding a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “You did?”

Hermione nodded again, her bottom lip beginning to quiver and her eyes beginning to water.

“What's wrong?” Harry asked, concerned.

Hermione shook her head, beginning to ramble, “Nothing's wrong. I have no reason to be
crying. It must be some reaction to something Madam Pomfrey gave me. I mean, obviously there is no
logic behind this behavior. I'm alive aren't I? I should be happy…”

Harry pulled her into his arms as she continued her incoherent speech, stroking her hair and
lightly rubbing her back. “Shhh…” He tried to sooth her.

Finally, Hermione let the tears fall like she hadn't earlier with her mother. “I miss them,
too, Harry,” she confessed into his shirt, “I really do.”

Harry merely continued to sit there, comforting her as she went on, his heart breaking a bit,
knowing that there was really nothing he could do. He listened quietly, occasionally apologizing or
offering a comforting word, but mostly just listening.

After a bit, Hermione calmed down and pulled away, leaning back against her pillows with her
head turned towards him as she spoke, “They're leaving soon. They have patients waiting and
can't afford to cancel another day of appointments. I also know that they aren't totally
comfortable here, surrounded by all of this magic. My mum took my dad to pack the few things they
have and they'll be back in a bit to say goodbye. I told them they could come back
whenever.”

Harry nodded, unable to contain the thought since he figured she would read his mind even if he
didn't say it out loud, “Do you want to go with them?”

Hermione's eyes widened, “Why would you even have to ask something like that?”

He sighed, “Hermione, you were just crying and telling me how much you miss them. You could go
with them for a couple of weeks while you recover.” He knew that no one else would like this and
that they needed to train, but Harry would rather see her happy than in perfect condition.

To his surprise, Hermione laughed a little, “I'm not going anywhere Harry. I knew when I
left that I would miss my parents. I've been missing my parents for several years. And you know
that I couldn't heal nearly as well at my parents' house. If something were to go wrong,
they'd have no way of helping me.”

“But…”

“And what would you do?” Hermione asked.

This caught Harry off guard, “What do you mean?”

Hermione smiled as if she was revealing a great fact, “You can not go two days, let alone two
weeks without me, Harry Potter.”

Though he knew that this was at least partially true, Harry was offended, “I can survive without
you. I've lived through many summers, not to mention eleven years before I even met you.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, “But I wasn't the love of your life then.”

This time it was Harry's turn to smile, “You were always the love of my life. I simply
didn't realize it.”

As Hermione opened her mouth to give a remark, there was a soft knock on the door before it was
opened slowly by Hermione's parents. “We came to say goodbye,” Mr. Granger said, a trace of
sadness in his gruff voice.

Harry carefully got off the bed, trying not to jostle Hermione. “I'll give you three a few
minutes. When you're ready to go, I'll be outside to take you home.” They nodded and he
left the room.

Outside, Harry ran into Malfoy. “What are you doing here?” Harry asked rudely before he could
stop himself. He had decided to attempt to be nicer to Malfoy after saving Hermione's life. Not
nice necessarily, but *nicer*.

Draco seemed unsure of how to respond to that. “I live here?”

“I mean why are you all of the way up here? Your bedroom is on the second floor.”

In reply, Draco held out a few sheets of parchment, “You told me to bring this list to Granger
when I was done. It's all of the spells that I know of to have gone into the orb.”

Harry nodded taking the sheets and looking over them, then setting them on the nearby table,
“Thanks. This is great. I'll have to give it to her in a bit, though. I've got to take her
parents home.”

Draco shrugged, not really caring, “Okay. I'm going to go.”

Harry watched as he walked back down the hall, deciding he didn't care what he was doing.
After a few more minutes, the Grangers walked out. Taking their arms gently, he took them home,
saying a quick goodbye before returning.

As he arrived in the hall, he noticed the chair he had conjured earlier when talking to
Hermione's father. He sat down and exhaled happily, emotionally drained. Taking a brief glance
at his watch, he noticed it was only ten thirty. Only over half a day left.

Harry took a deep breath and then stood, returning to Hermione.

~*~

A/N: Forever thankful to Lady Starlight! I'm also thankful to everyone who's reviewed
the past two chapters. Even if I haven't replied, I have read and appreciated every single one
of them.

-->



23. Attempting Normalcy
-----------------------



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.

~*~

Chapter 23: Attempting Normalcy

~*~

“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!

-->



24. Testing
-----------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

*By Vickles*

Disclaimer: I went to post this only to find on my computer a lovely note from the characters,
expressing not-so-subtle and blatantly sarcastic remarks about how *grateful* they are for my
speedy writing of this chapter. *Sigh* I considered reprimanding them, but they have wands, so that
idea faded quickly.

A/N: I realize how long it has been, so just to give everyone a quick reminder, there was an
attack in Diagon Alley and Hermione was severely injured. She is now recovering, though not without
roadblocks, and her, Ron, and Harry have begun training again. Ginny and Luna are back at Hogwarts,
and Draco is still at Grimmauld Place, grim and sarcastic as ever.

~*~

*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.*

~*~

Chapter 24: Testing

~*~

“How are you feeling today, Miss Granger?” Madam Pomfrey asked as she took a seat beside the
bed. Draco, after grabbing a quick bite to eat, had retreated back to his room and Ron had gone to
make preparations for his and Harry's afternoon trip to meet with a Mr. Jokin.

“Excellent,” Hermione replied, “I think I'm ready to get out of this bed.”

“Yes, well, we will see about that,” the nurse told her, “Lie down please.” Hermione did as she
was instructed and Madam Pomfrey gently lifted her shirt, inspecting the mark. It was all Harry
could do not to look away.

Madam Pomfrey's brow furrowed, “Miss Granger, have you felt any pain at the sight of
impact?”

Hermione hesitated before answering, “No.” After a stern looking from the nurse she sighed,
“Yes. In the shower this morning.”

“The shower?” Madam Pomfrey asked, looking at Harry.

“I would have stopped her,” he defended himself, “but I was sleeping.” He turned to Hermione,
“You said you were fine.”

Before Hermione could respond, Madam Pomfrey continued with her examination, “Could you describe
the pain for me, Miss Granger?”

Hermione gave in, “It was very sharp - a hot, stinging pain, as if that part of my body were
being burned. I don't think it lasted very long, if I recall correctly. I was just a bit sore
for awhile afterwards.”

“Hmm…” the nurse thought out loud, “Was that the first time you had an episode like that?”

“Yes.”

Madam Pomfrey remained silent for a moment, then exhaled softly, “Alright, Miss Granger, you are
now free to move about. However, you are not to do any serious activity for at least another week
and I would appreciate it if you will try not to strain yourself more than necessary. I am leaving
Mr. Potter in charge until I check up on you - same time next week. We will reevaluate your
restrictions then. I will talk to the Headmistress about your condition and see to it that she
informs your trainers. Am I understood?”

Hermione nodded, unable to suppress a wide smile.

“Very well, then. In the meantime, I will figure out what is causing the pain in your abdomen,
because I have a feeling it will continue.” She stood to leave.

Hermione, with great effort, remained sitting until the nurse left, “Thank you, Madam
Pomfrey!”

“Do not make me regret this, Miss Granger,” The nurse warned with a smile before Disapparating.
While Hermione hopped out of bed, Ron walked in, standing beside Harry.

Hermione smiled at the two of them as she walked around the room, “Did you hear that? No more
bed rest!” She began to skip, but got slightly dizzy and began to wobble. Harry put his hands on
her waist to steady her.

He laughed, “Did you hear that? No over-exerting yourself.” Ron snorted at this.

Hermione blushed, “Got a little excited, that's all.”

“I know, but Ron and I are leaving in a minute and I'm wondering if I can trust you to not
try anything more than you should.”

Hermione's brow furrowed, “Where are you going?”

“We've got an appointment with Crazy!” Harry laughed at the use of the nickname they'd
adopted, “How could you forget?”

“Oh!” Hermione nodded as if a light bulb turned on, “That's great. We've been putting it
off for weeks. I was just reading up on his biography yesterday, actually. We don't actually
know that he's crazy, you both realize, right?”

“Yes,” Harry answered.

Ron agreed, “But even if he is, one must wonder why.”

“Precisely,” Harry smiled.

“Will you be using your aliases then?” Hermione asked.

“Of course,” Harry replied, letting go of her waist and taking a pin from Ron and putting it on,
“Will you do the honors?”

Hermione smiled and muttered the incantation, watching as their appearances changed into that of
Joseph and Greg Brill. Her own appearance would be that of their `sister' Linda Brill, but even
she knew better than to put herself in danger at the moment. As the youngest, her alias was just
seventeen, while Ron, or Greg, was twenty and Harry, or Joseph, was twenty-two. Both had brown eyes
and wavy brown hair. They used their aliases more than she did, since they went out the most often,
but still she was unused to it.

Harry grabbed his cloak from the chair he had laid it out on, removing the pin and replacing it
on the outer material, causing his appearance to waver for a moment. “See you later,” he told
Hermione with a smile as he gave her a peck on the forehead. She nodded, giving Ron a quick hug,
and then they headed out the door.

“We need to stop by and see Malfoy before we leave,” Harry told Ron as they walked through the
hallways.

“Okay,” Ron replied, “But why?”

Harry clenched his teeth, “I have to ask him for a favor.” They reached Malfoy's room and
knocked on the door, waiting for a few moments before he came to it, blinking as he opened it for
them.

“Yes?” he asked, sitting on his bed and yawning as they both walked in. He had seen them with
their masquerades once or twice previously.

“Were you *sleeping*?” Harry asked, surprised.

Malfoy shrugged, “Yeah. Is that what you came here for?”

“No,” Harry replied, sighing, “I want you to watch Hermione while we are gone.”

“She can't take care of herself?” His irritation was not masked at all.

Harry rolled his eyes, “I just meant for you to keep an eye on her in case something
happens.”

Draco eyed him suspiciously, “Something like what?”

“She's been experiencing some pain. If it gets really bad or if she over exerts herself and
something goes wrong, I need you to get a hold of Madam Pomfrey.”

Malfoy grinning at this, “Say that last part again.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “What part?”

“The part where you *need* me.”

Harry sighed, “Will you do it or won't you?”

“I'll do it, Potter. Bloody hell, you don't always have to get your knickers twisted
up.”

“I don't. In fact, it only seems to happen when you're around.”

“I am honored. Who doesn't want to be the stick in Harry Potter's arse?”

“Now that's just…”

Ron cut in, “I hate to break this up; I really do. But don't you think we should get going,
Harry? Er…Joseph?”

Harry backed down, “Fine. Let's go.” And without another word, they were gone.

~*~

Harry wasn't sure what he expected when he walked into the back room of the Dragonskin Pub,
but Imja Jokin, pronounced Im-Yuh YO-kin as Draco had informed them a few weeks back, was certainly
not it. He was seated at a small round table by the fireplace, calmly drinking his tea. His suit
was well tailored, and he was freshly shaved. Though he appeared to be getting on in his years, he
seemed perfectly healthy, both physically and mentally.

*That does not necessarily mean anything. Looks can be deceiving*. Harry smiled and shook
his head. There was not even a question anymore about whether or not that voice inside his head
sounded like Hermione. Standing beside Ron - or Greg, rather - about two or three meters away from
the man, Harry recited the words Draco had given him, “It is a pleasure to meet with you, Mr.
Jokin. May we have a seat?”

The pub was located in Stockholm, Sweden, and had a warm, yet damp feel to it. The main area had
reeked of testosterone from the abundance of drunken middle-aged men, and two scuffles had taken
place as Harry and Ron were led to the back. The room itself was rather large and an elliptical
shape. On an adjacent wall to the fireplace was a single large window, covered with hangings, and
scattered around the room were various pieces of furniture. Opposite the fireplace was a door,
leading to a storage closet, Harry assumed.

Imja Jokin nodded and gesture to the other two seats around the small table. Once the two of
them were sitting, he spoke, “It is my understanding that the reason for this appointment is your
curiosity about old Red Eyes.”

“Actually,” Ron replied as he and Harry accepted the drinks politely, “We are a bit more curious
about Tom Riddle.”

“One in the same, one in the same, but I see what you are saying. What information do you
seek?”

Harry felt himself smile, “Any information you can give us. It is *my* understanding that
you have a few stories to tell.”

This earned a smirk from Jokin as he raised an eyebrow, pressing, “Crazier men than you have
called me mad.”

Harry only shrugged in reply, “Saner men than you have been known to lie.”

A laugh erupted from Imja Jokin's throat, short and crisp. Harry and Ron were surprised, as
they considered the subject matter more somber. The man sighed, giving in. “There is in fact only
one story I have to tell, but it is first important that you know how I came upon it. You see,
before I became the rich man I am now, I worked as a servant in the house of Lord Kavanagh. He was
very prosperous, and a nice man from what I knew of him. He and his wife were not blessed with a
son, however, but rather a daughter. Her name was Aislin. Aislin Kavanagh.”

The man smiles, “I must say that she was, and continues to be, the most beautiful creature
I've ever had the opportunity to lay my eyes on. She was heir to a fortune, and kinder and more
giving than the saints themselves. Any man would have been lucky to marry her. I used to fancy the
idea of marrying her myself one day, in fact.”

Harry and Ron listened, curious and confused. What did that have to do with Voldemort? After a
sip of tea, Jokin continued, “Miss Kavanagh had many suitors that came to court her, but the rumor
amongst the household staff was that her honor was at risk.”

“Her honor?” Ron asked, not used to such language.

Imja nodded, “An orphan, they said. I never gave it much thought. I believed Miss Kavanagh was
above such behavior. Then, one day when she was supposed to be out, I was ordered to tidy the
bedroom. I used the servants' entrance, but before I could enter, I saw them.”

Harry swallowed, feeling uneasy.

Mr. Jokin went on, “He was sitting on the edge of the bed, helping her retie the back of her
dress. When he finished, he stood, wrapping his arms around her waist. She glowed beautifully in
the morning light, and her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. I remember he smiled, took her
hand, and said, `Marry me, Aislin.'

“Miss Aislin shook her head sadly, letting go of his hand, `I would, Tom,' she told him,
`But my parents would never allow it. I'm heir to a fortune, and you are a penniless
orphan.' He then asked her to run away with him, and again she refused.”

Imja Jokin took a deep breath, “He began to tell her his plans. He went on and on about how one
day the world would be his, and he only wanted the love of his life, Aislin to be at his side. Miss
Kavanagh wanted no part of it, and would not hear of killing Muggle-borns and Half-bloods. She
asked him to leave, and never return.”

“Tom was crushed and tried to persuade her to his wishes, but she threatened to scream. It was
then that he held his hand up, and Miss Kavanagh began to act very queer. Her eyes seemed glazed
and she began to say all of these odd things about how she would love to be his bride, his loyal
servant for all eternity.”

“The Imperius,” Ron said, nodding.

Jokin continued, “Riddle leaned in to kiss her, however the glazed look began to fade and she
wouldn't return the kiss. Furious at this point, he grabbed her by the elbow and the two of
them Disapparated together. For three weeks no one heard from her, but on the third week she was
dropped off on her parents' doorstep, dead. The Dark Mark made its first appearance that
night.”

Ron looked at Harry; clearly feeling like this was a waste of time. Voldemort *in*
*love*? Perhaps when Peeves dies and becomes a saint. Imja did not notice this, however, and
continued in a theatrical voice, “I believe that day in the bedroom was the last day that Tom
Riddle walked this earth.”

Harry nodded, trying to figure out the quickest way to leave, his unease making his hand want to
twitch towards his wand, “Thank you Mr. Jokin. That was just what we were looking for.”

“You know,” the man continued, ignoring Harry's subtle hint, “I used to have a picture of
Aislin around here somewhere, but I'm afraid I gave it to a young lady quite a long time
ago.”

“That's quite alright,” Ron replied, clearly following Harry's lead, “We should be going
now anyway. Thank you for meeting us.”

Imja Jokin smiled and nodded, extending his hand, but Harry knew the time to leave had already
come and gone. He could sense the room practically crackling with energy, and was positive that a
quick look around the room would show that they were surrounded. As he stood to shake Mr.
Jokin's hand, Harry used his other to surreptitiously reach into his pocket and touch his wand.
Once Harry was sure that Ron had taken similar actions, he let go of the old man's hand. He
ducked under the table just in time to avoid a purple streak and then the fight was on.

~*~

How much longer would they be? Hermione asked herself as she lay curled up on the bed. Her
abdomen felt as if it was on fire, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming. It had been
going on for a while, though she had no idea how long exactly, and she could barely force herself
to think, let alone move. Hermione tried to focus on anything but the pain, but she could not
concentrate enough to open her eyes.

In the back of her mind she heard the door open, and she thought for a moment that it might be
Harry, but then she her the drawling voice for Draco Malfoy. “What's wrong?” He sounded
startled. Clearly, Harry had asked him to keep an eye on her and, clearly, he had not taken the job
seriously.

Hermione tried to open her mouth and reply, but the only sound that came out was a pathetic
whimper and the choking of her tears. “I'll fetch Madam Pomfrey,” Draco replied, seeming to get
the idea. Hermione heard his footsteps leave the room and was left alone again.

She was not sure how much time passed before Draco was back again, but when she forced herself
to open her eyes, Hermione saw that Madam Pomfrey was not with him. Draco pulled a chair up beside
the bed, and, taking a seat, reached out to lift up her shirt. Hermione immediately slapped away
his hands and turned away from him.

“Granger, I have to see your wound to make sure we know what's wrong with you. Do you
understand?”

Hermione nodded, another embarrassing whimper escaping from her lips as she tried to lie on her
back. Draco carefully lifted up her shirt and looked at the wound, holding both of her hands in one
of his as he gently prodded the scar, sending burst of pain throughout her body. Hermione winced
and tried to move her hands to stop him but his grasp was firm, though he muttered an apology that
sounded surprisingly genuine. She watched through watery eyes as he leaned in an examined it
carefully before letting her hands go and tugging her shirt back down. He then began telling her
things but Hermione could no longer hear them as she began to let herself be enveloped by the
pain.

“Granger. Granger, look at me. Granger! Hermione!”

The use of her first name caught her attention, it being such a rare occurrence, and Hermione
forced herself to open her eyes and focus on him as he spoke. Draco took her hands in his, this
time to try and keep her focus, and began talking rapidly, “According to Pomfrey, your body is
rejecting the residual dark magic left by the death orb, but the magic is fighting back. Until the
good and bad magic reaches a temporary impasse you will be in pain. But listen, Hermione, this is
important,” he shook her and she looked up at him, “You have to stay conscious and alert, or your
body will start to give in. If your body gives in that means you may die which means that either
your boyfriend will kill me or I will be kicked out on the streets and someone else will kill me
and then we will both be dead, which is quite a loss to civilization, don't you think?”

Hermione nodded, a tiny smile reaching her lips as she managed to speak, “Yes.”

Draco returned the expression, “Exactly. Now since I am currently in charge of you I am going to
proceed to talk until your ears fall off or until Potter gets home and takes my place,
alright?”

Hermione nodded again, the pain spreading to her hands.

“Perfect. Now did I ever tell you how positively bushy your hair is? At times I swear
there's a dead animal on top of your head.”

~*~

“Stupefy!” Harry shouted, knocking down another one. Looking around, he saw that none were left
standing, and that Imja Jokin was nowhere to be found, probably having escaped during the shuffle,
though Harry could not be sure when. “Greg?” he asked, looking around the destroyed room for his
friend.

“Over here, Jo,” Ron replied, climbing out from under pile of mud, undoubtedly conjured at some
point.

“Stand back while I bound them and round them up,” Harry instructed. Ron obeyed with out
question and Harry held out his hand, instantly binding them with ropes, and then motioned, moving
them all to one side of the room, lined up on the floor. “Grab their wands,” he added, studying
each one of them. Once Ron had a hold of all of their wands, Harry revived the one that he had
noticed shouting orders to the other during the fight.

The man, about the same age as Greg and Joseph - meaning a few years older than Ron and Harry -
looked around for a moment before his eyes landed on Harry. “What do you want?”

Harry crouched down so that he was at eye-level with the man, “Funny you should ask, because
that is exactly what I want to know.”

“I'm not telling you anything.”

Harry, using his wand as a prop so as not to give away his powers, tightened the ropes around
the man's neck just enough to cause panic, and then patiently waited a few moments until the
man spoke.

“Alright, alright!”

Harry loosened the ropes, “Who sent you?”

“No one. Mr. Jokin wanted us here.”

“Why?” Ron pressed.

“Why have you been snooping around?” The man asked.

Harry tightened the rope again for a moment before replying, “We're asking the questions
here, not you. Answer him.”

“It was a test. You passed. Expect to hear more from Mr. Jokin in the future.”

Harry shook his head, looking at Ron, who shrugged. Not knowing what else to say, he stupefied
the man again, and then helped Ron stick there wands under one of the floorboards. Harry sighed, “I
think we should get out of here before more show up.”

“I agree,” Ron nodded.

“And I think you should just pop straight into your shower,” Harry laughed.

Ron looked down at himself, completely covered in dirt, “I agree.” The two of them
Disapparated.

Once inside Grimmauld Place, Harry headed for his bedroom, surprised to find a sleeping, though
clearly formerly-crying, Hermione with Malfoy in a chair beside her. Harry opened his mouth to
speak, but Malfoy raised a hand, stopping him, and then led him out into the hall.

“What happened?” Harry asked as soon as they were outside.

“What took you so long?” Draco asked in return.

“I asked first.”

“My question is more important.”

Harry sighed, “Just as we were ending our meeting, Ron and I were ambushed. Any idea how that
could have happened, *Malfoy*?”

“You don't honestly think I would set you two up…”

“Maybe I do. That's not important at the moment, though. Tell me what happened with
Hermione,” Harry replied, undeterred.

Malfoy sighed, “Pomfrey says that in order for her to heal, her body has to repel the dark magic
inside of her. Apparently this is not a very pleasant experience, as you may have observed, and in
order to keep her from succumbing to said magic, I had to keep her focused.”

“Why could Madam Pomfrey not come?”

“One of the students that had been attacked at the train station was having terrors.”

“How did you keep Hermione focused?” Harry asked.

Draco shrugged, “I talked to her.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. After several moments, he reached up
and awkwardly patted Malfoy on the shoulder, “Thanks. We'll discuss the attack later.”

Draco looked back at him, confused. “Um…Okay,” he replied, uncertain and thrown off by
Harry's sudden lack of hostility.

Without anything left to say, Harry headed back into the room where Hermione was still fast
asleep. Smiling at her peaceful form, Harry reached to cover her up more with the blankets, only to
feel an unexpected weight on top of them. He looked down at what it was, finding his mother's
journal, closed. Though he was burning with curiosity about why Hermione had had this out, Harry
decided it could wait until she woke up. After placing it on the nightstand, Harry headed
downstairs to fix himself a snack, figuring it would still be awhile before Hermione would be
awake. Once he'd had his fill he headed back up to the room and, a little tired, decided to
rest his eyes for a moment.

“Harry?”

He woke with a start, “Yes?” He turned to see Hermione looking at him as he sat up.

Hermione's eyes were wide, as if she had only just woken up herself, “When did you get
back?” She sat up as well, stretching tenderly.

Harry looked down at his watch. It was already seven o'clock, which meant he had completely
fallen asleep, “About four hours ago.”

“What took you so long?”

Harry bit his lip, “We can talk about it tomorrow.” Though Hermione did not seem to like that
answer, she nodded as Harry went on, “I would have said hello when I got home, but I did not want
to wake you.”

This made Hermione smile sadly, “I would have rather you did, actually.”

“I'll make a mental note for next time,” Harry replied, taking her hand and giving her a
kiss on the cheek.

Hermione nodded, growing quiet and looking down at his hands. “Madam Pomfrey was finally able to
get here just before I fell asleep. She told Draco that it looks like I'll have several more of
these `episodes' before I'm fully recovered. Sometimes they'll only be short spurts of
pain, like I had in the shower this morning, but other times it will be more like this afternoon.
She still doesn't know how often they will occur, and mentioned that I may have as many as
three a day or I may go a week without having any. She does not know how long they will go on.”

Harry nodded, taking it in, “Okay. Do you need anything right now?”

Hermione bit her lip, “No, I'm okay. I need to talk to you about something else,
actually.”

Reaching back, Harry took his mother's diary off of the nightstand. “Does it have something
to do with this?”

“Yes,” she admitted, “I just have this feeling that she knew something about all of this Harry.
I know it is a long shot and that most of the information will be nearly twenty years old, but it
is still one of the best resources we have.”

Taking a moment to consider this, Harry nodded, “Okay, though I still stand by my position from
earlier. You can read it, but I only want to know what you need to tell me.”

“I assumed as much. There's a problem, though,” Hermione replied, “Open it.”

Trusting her, Harry did as she said. The lock was already unhinged, so all he had to do was lift
the cover. As he looked down though, he was only greeted with a completely blank journal. “She
didn't write anything down?” he asked.

Hermione shook her head, “I highly doubt that. The leather on the binding is highly worn in and
the bracelet that unlocks it was found on her wrist only weeks before her death. I bet if I went
back there tomorrow I would find that she is wearing it in most pictures.”

“So that can only mean she charmed it,” Harry finished.

“Exactly. I am going to start researching different masking charms immediately. I used the ones
we already know, but obviously the charm is more complicated than that. I think that if I can…”

“Did you try writing in it?” Harry asked abruptly.

Hermione shook her head, “That would only work if your mother had actually split her soul,
Harry. Based on what we know about her, I have to believe that she would never do that. So I
don't risk writing over anything important, I am saving that as a last alternative.”

Harry nodded, suddenly not sure which thought was better. What if his mother *had* chosen
to split her soul? Remus has commented that she kept up to date with what went on in dark circles.
Had she dabbled in the Dark Arts? Would it be better to know that his mother had done something
horrible, but a part of her was still alive, or would he rather she be the image of perfection and
gone forever?

Reading the look on his face, Hermione summoned the chessboard and pieces from the nearby table.
Changing the subject, she said, “Come on, let's play some chess. You might actually stand a
chance of winning against someone besides Ron.”

Thankful for the distraction, Harry nodded, “You're on.”

~*~

“Is she okay?”

Surprised by the sudden presence of another person in his room, Draco woke up immediately,
sitting upright and smacking his forehead into someone else's. “Who's there?” he asked,
grabbing his wand.

“It's Ginny Weasley, you wanker! That hurt!” She held her palm tightly against her forehead
as Draco lit the wall sconces with a wave of his wand.

“What the hell are you doing here? I was sleeping, if you did not notice!”

Ginny sat down, frowning, “You talk in your sleep and had already responded to me being here. I
thought you were awake.”

“I wasn't.”

“I got that.”

“So why are you here, waking me up in the middle of the night? Aren't you supposed to be at
school?”

Ginny sighed, “I was doing paperwork for Madam Pomfrey when you showed up this afternoon. Luna
and I were worried, so I flooed here.”

“How'd you managed that?”

“Does it matter?”

Draco rubbed his eyes, “And you couldn't bug one of your friends because…”

“Because, like you so intelligently pointed out, it is the middle of the night, which means
Hermione and Harry are snug in each other's arms, a visual I am not totally comfortable with
yet. Ron, for all I know could be talking in his sleep about shagging Luna - also another visual I
can live without. There's also the added bonus of waking any of them up in the middle of the
night and receiving a lecture about leaving school.”

“Right. Well Granger's fine, so you can go.”

“What happened?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “How about you act like a rational person and send them an owl?”

Ginny merely crossed her arms, hoping to show that she was not backing down, but Draco simply
shrugged and turned out the lights, assuming the conversation was over. As he began to lie down,
Ginny nudged him on the shoulder.

“What now?”

“Never mind.”

“Okay.”

*Nudge*. “Yes?”

“What do you do during the day?”

Draco sat up, “Now you're just trying to irritate me.”

“Maybe,” Ginny admitted, “Or maybe I'm making sure that you aren't here to kill my
friends.”

This earned a dark laugh, “If I wanted to kill them I would have done it already.”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

Ginny grinned, “On who you are trying to kill. I doubt you could take Harry. Can you turn a
light on? It's rather dark in here.”

Draco lit a lamp by his bed, “I could take Potter any day.”

Ginny scoffed, “*Voldemort* can't take Harry any day.”

Draco shuddered briefly, before replying calmly, “I read. And I sleep.”

“Pardon?”

“You asked what I do during the day. I read and I sleep,” Draco answered.

“That's it.”

“Unless your friends have me do something else. Granger had been helping me brush up on my
fighting technique before the attack, but other than that… nothing. I'm a fairly simple
person.”

Ginny nodded, “Okay.”

“Are you leaving now?”

“Do you want me to leave?” Ginny asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation.

“Oh, right. Well I'll just go then.”

“You do that.”

“It was nice talking to you.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” As Draco turned the lamp out, Ginny left the room, shutting the door behind her.

~*~

“I think that Draco should start coming to our Triptych training with Tonks,” Hermione announced
the next morning at breakfast.

Harry swallowed his food slowly, “Why?”

“Well, he'll be fighting with us, won't he?” Hermione asked, “It only makes sense that
he knows what is going on.”

Ron shook his head, “I don't trust him, and aside from that, I doubt in my ability to
concentrate when he's there. I know that I was doing okay yesterday morning, but transferring
my powers is really a challenge, and you two have not even tried it yet. I think it is a bad
idea.”

Hermione sighed, “I trust him. He already comes to dueling practice and is helping out with
everything else. Why not this as well? I do not like the idea of him staying in his room
accomplishing absolutely nothing while we train. We are preparing for war here, or have you two
forgotten? We need to get back onto a schedule and I think we should use the extra muscle to our
advantage.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “I have not forgotten, and I agree that getting back on schedule would
be good. Ron and I will not be going out again too soon, so…”

“That's right. You said you'd tell me what happened yesterday,” Hermione interrupted
right as Tonks popped in.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

Harry and Ron nodded. “We'll talk about it later,” Harry said quietly as they headed to the
attic.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Good, because this discussion is far from over.”

“Alright then,” Tonks smiled as they sat in a square on the attic floor, “It's good to see
you up and about, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled, but Harry spoke, “No dueling for another week - Madam Pomfrey's order.”
Hermione scowled, only earning a shrug from him, “She left me in charge of making sure you
don't overexert yourself.

Tonks held her hands up, “That's fine, Professor McGonagall sent me an owl and filled me in.
Kingsley will be taking over dueling from here on out, anyway. He's much more experienced than
me, and since you all have the basics down he will push you much harder than I will. Starting
tomorrow he will come in the afternoons unless one of us tells you otherwise, okay?”

The three nodded. Tonks clapped her hands together, “Okay. Today I want to work on Harry's
ability in transferring strength. Hermione, go stand over there by that old icebox.” Hermione did
as she was told and Tonks continued, “Harry, take a seat on the chair next to the opposite wall.
Good. Now, Harry, can you lift the ice box from where you're sitting?”

Harry nodded, demonstrating by holding out his hand and moving the icebox a few inches closer to
Hermione before setting it back down, “No problem.”

“Excellent. And, obviously, Hermione cannot lift it on her own. Hermione, I want you to put your
hand in the handlebars and, without straining yourself too much try to lift the icebox. Don't
stop until I tell you to.”

Tonks walked over to Harry, speaking so Hermione could not here, “I want you to focus on giving
Hermione the strength to lift the icebox. It sounds simple, I know, but the trick is not lifting
the icebox yourself. If you lift it, you've achieved nothing. You have to pass the power onto
her, and be able to keep it there. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded, “Yes.”

“Okay, go ahead, and try to remember the techniques I used with Ron yesterday.”

“Right.” Harry closed his eyes, focusing on Hermione, who was pulling lightly on the ice box. He
tried to figure out what different muscles she was using. From what he could see, her arms and
hands were flexed, as well as her shoulders and pecs. Harry flexed the same muscles on his own
body, trying to imagine how it would be if he were in her position. Then, looking at Hermione,
Harry attempted to pass the feeling onto her.

Hermione's eyes widened as she lifted the icebox for a few moments, then watched as it fell
back to the floor, out of her hands. She, Tonks, and Ron all smiled at Harry.

“That was brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, “And to think, just two days ago she could barely lift a
finger.”

Harry sighed, looking at Tonks, “I was not able to maintain the connection, though.”

Tonks nodded and crossed her arms, “Why do you think that is?”

“I'm not sure,” Harry shrugged, “But as soon as the link between us was forged, I suddenly
needed to use twice as much muscle and power than I normally need to. It was really difficult.”

Hermione placed her hands on her hips, “I think we should try again. Maybe all it takes is some
conditioning.”

After checking to make sure Harry was ready, Tonks nodded, “Let's do it.”

Harry went through the same process several more times, and Tonks began to time his progress.
Once he had reached two minutes, she began to challenge him by distracting him as he tried to
sustain a connection. As he began to ignore her, she through Ron into the mix, having Harry forge a
link with two people at once. He was only able to do it for up to twenty seconds, but once they had
done it several times and Harry was clearly exhausted, Tonks called it a day.

Ron shook his head as the three of them headed down for some lunch, “That was wicked, mate. Can
you imagine how helpful that would be in battle? Insane.”

They entered the kitchen to find Draco eating one of Dobby's sandwiches, looking rather
tired. Hermione smiled in an all-too-friendly matter as she took a seat beside him, “Good morning,
sunshine!”

She ruffled his hair and Draco scooted away, “Did I do anything that implies you touching me was
okay?”

“What's up with you, Malfoy?” Harry asked, annoyed, “Did you not get enough sleep or
something?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “I would get plenty of sleep if things weren't waking me up in the
middle of the night.”

Ron raised an eyebrow, “What woke you up?”

Draco paused to take a bite of his sandwich, “Nothing. Just this house.”

Hermione nodded, suspicious, then turned her attention to Harry and Ron, “So what happened
yesterday? You've stalled long enough.”

They exchanged a glance, then Ron sighed, “You tell her.”

Harry reached across the table and took Hermione's hand in his, “Don't get worked up,
okay? Ron and I are fine.”

“Harry…”

“When we went to meet Imja Jokin yesterday we were ambushed.”

Hermione removed her hand from his, “How?”

Harry shrugged, “They somehow got in. In any matter, we managed to get out okay, but we think
there might have somehow been a leak about our true identities.”

“But how would that even be possible?” Hermione asked.

Ron narrowed his eyes at Draco, “Ask him.”

Draco looked up from his sandwich, “Are you kidding?”

“Does it look like it?”

“Why the hell would I tip them off? *How* in the hell would I tip them off?”

Ron shrugged, “You tell us.”

Harry put a hand on Ron's shoulder, “I don't think it was him, Ron. Remember what they
said about it being a test? And even if he did rat us out, that's not the point.” He turned
back to Hermione, “The point is that I think the Brills should lay low for awhile.”

Hermione nodded, “Alright.”

“Wait a second,” Draco spoke up, “What was the ambush like?”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, did they sneak into the room while you were talking to him?”

“Yes.”

“And did he somehow get away?”

“Yes.”

“And did they use the Killing Curse?”

Ron and Harry looked at each other. “No,” Ron finally answered, “They didn't actually.”

Draco nodded, “It *was* a test.”

Hermione turned to him, “A test?”

Harry tilted his head with interest, “You mean he was actually telling us the truth?” Ron seemed
surprised as well.

Draco nodded, “Though don't ask me why. The thought of you actually intimidating someone is
laughable. At any rate, I had a feeling it might happen eventually, but I couldn't be sure.
When new people start sniffing around various dark places, it is only a matter of time before the
news circulates. Being part of the dark circles is like being in a special club. You have to be
tested first, and only the strongest make it in. Did you take everyone down or did you escape?”

Harry tilted his head, “We took everyone down, then bound them and hid their wands after
questioning one of them. Why?”

“That's good. You've proved that you aren't some mindless idiot out for a laugh and
a few stories. I think you'll find you have easier access to information now. There's no
reason to stay home.”

“Why should we believe you?” Ron asked.

“Why shouldn't you?”

“Well, there's the fact that you didn't warn us about possibly being attacked,” Ron
pointed out.

Draco shrugged, “You wouldn't have died. These aren't Death Eaters you are dealing with.
It's rich, snobby, pureblood families that have been tied to the Dark Arts for years. While
they aren't stupid, I have seen you two duel. It was never a fair match.”

Hermione bit her lip, “I believe him. Still, I think you two should wait a day or two before
going out.”

Harry nodded, standing up, “Sounds like a plan. If we're done here I think I'll go take
a shower now.”

“Wait a second,” Hermione said, “What about Imja Jokin? We've been waiting to talk to him
for weeks! Did you get any good information off of him?”

Ron snorted, “Oh yeah. Tom Riddle was in love with a girl and a broken heart led him to be the
unfeeling bastard he is today.”

“What?”

Harry nodded, “That's pretty much the gist of it. From what it sounds like I simply think a
spoiled rich girl chose to use the wrong poor little orphan boy. According to Mr. Jokin she was his
first victim, but we may want to see if we can verify that. He sure seems to enjoy telling stories.
I would not be surprised if he embellished a bit.”

“I'll see what I can dig up. I'm owling Professor McGonagall tomorrow to get permission
to use the Hogwarts library, especially the restricted section. The library here is vast, but there
are a lot of books at the school I could use,” Hermione replied.

Ron perked up, “Tell me before you send it, okay? I have a letter for Luna.”

Draco made a gagging sound and Harry spoke up before Ron could retaliate, “May I go take my
shower, now?”

Hermione nodded, following him as he stood to leave, “I need to get something out of the
bathroom first.”

Harry looked at her questioningly as they walked up the stairs, “What do you need to get?”

Eyes sparkling, Hermione grinned, “Nothing.”

The light dawned on Harry, “Ah. You do realize that I actually do plan to take a shower, though,
right? Linking muscle and power made me incredibly sweaty.”

“*Incredibly* sweaty?” Hermione asked as they entered their room, “Then you may be needing
some help getting it all off, right?” She leaned close to him, her face less than an inch from his,
“Especially in all of those… hard to reach places.”

Just as Harry smiled and moved in for a kiss she leaned away and opened her drawer to grab her
bikini, heading towards the bathroom. Harry reached a hand out and stopped her from across the
room. Walking over, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck, “Do you know that I am so
much in love with you it literally hurts sometimes?”

Hermione laughed, “I am aware of such things.” She turned around and gave him a soft kiss,
teasing him with her tongue before turning around and closing the bathroom door behind her. “Grab
your trunks!” she called.

Harry stood with his hands on his hips, shaking his head, “Tease! That's all you are,
Hermione! A big tease! Get a guy's hopes up with thoughts of taking a shower with his
girlfriend…I ought to skip the shower and make you smell me like this the rest of the day!”
Nonetheless, he grabbed his trunks and changed into them quickly before knocking on the door,
mumbling to himself, “I am so whipped.”

~*~

A/N: Okay, this note may be a little on the long side, but I've received a few emails and
been alerted of a few concerns and would like to address everything:

First things first, YES, I will finish this story. I have no plans on abandoning or pausing it.
That said, I make no promises of when chapters will be out. It could be anywhere from two weeks to
two months. I realize that this one was longer, but there were many unfortunate circumstance. If
you want a better answer feel free to email me at hogwartzchik@yahoo.com.

Second, if you want to be updated on when new chapters are coming, would like to read about the
Potter children (you may have to go a few weeks back for those posts, but you might enjoy them), or
would like to see excerpts from upcoming chapters as well as other stories, visit my live journal:
http://xvicklesx.livejournal.com.

Last, if you have any angry words to say to me, email me please. I completely understand the
emotion, but I would rather save the review board for comments/criticisms on the story, not on
me.

That said, I've received a lot of support and encouragement over the summer and would like
to say thank you all of you who have helped, as well as (and especially) Lady Starlight and
madscientist who offered quite a lot of help with this. Thank you!

-->



25. Presents
------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: Harry has requested that all of the girls fall madly in love with him. I fear that I
may have offended him when I began laughing hysterically. This will not look good in court.

~*~

Chapter 25: Presents

~*~

Hermione exhaled heavily as she sat down at the kitchen table, smiling gratefully at Dobby, who
was setting out some chicken and vegetables. Taking her iced tea, Hermione had to resist the urge
of swallowing it all at once. Nonetheless, she finished half of it in seconds.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco eying her curiously. She waited for his usual snide
remark, but clearly he was far too exhausted even for that. He only nodded and did the same with
his own tea, finishing his entire glass and setting it out for Dobby. *Show off,* Hermione
thought to herself. The house elf refilled it, appearing to have finally gotten over his fear of
Draco, though he continued to stay away when possible. Draco did not seem to mind.

Across the table, Ron was inhaling his second chicken leg, barely taking time to chew between
bites. Instinctively, Hermione reached across the table and gave him a light slap on his arm, her
meaning not lost. *Chew*, she admonished him mentally, *I do not fancy having to take you to
St. Mungo's because you could not remember your table manners.*

The look on Ron's face, coupled with the mental growl emitted from his mind, forced Hermione
to restrain herself from smiling. She supposed she could not blame him for his eating habits at
this moment, as she was currently resisting the urge to stuff half of a baked potato in her mouth.
Her body was burning up her energy, as it had been all day today, and she desperately needed to
refuel.

*Oh, Lord,* she thought to herself, *I have been living in a house full of boys for far
too long.*

It had been two weeks since Harry and Ron had been “tested” by Mr. Jokin's lackeys, as they
had taken to calling them. Despite one of the men's words, they had not been contacted by the
old man since. That said, they had been kept plenty busy.

Tonks continued to come in the mornings, working with them on stretching their Triptych-related
powers. Draco did not come. Harry and Ron had won that argument, and Hermione saw their point. Much
as she wanted to trust Draco, she admitted that she had been a little hasty to include him.

Hermione was surprised by how far they had been able to take their powers in so little time. She
had been staying in contact with Gretta, valuing her knowledge on the Triptych, and according to
the woman the harnessing of powers was not normally so…easy. It worried Hermione that so far,
nothing had gone too wrong, but she tried to put these thoughts out of her mind. She should be
grateful for any sort of break they got.

Harry had shown perhaps the most progress, controlling objects all over the house with his sheer
will. Just the other night they had been lying in bed when Hermione had realized she had left her
book in the living room. She had gotten up to go downstairs and get it when Harry, with a grin,
stopped her and held up his hand. Within seconds, the book was in his grasp as he handed it to her.
Needless to say, Hermione was no longer interested in *reading* anymore. Later as Harry was
softly kissing her neck, she began to wonder if that had been his intent all along.

Ron was doing very well, too, of course, though his powers seemed to have less day-to-day use.
In dueling practice however, he had managed to make Harry cry - or make his eyes very bloodshot,
Hermione revised - allowing Ron to take him down with ease. As soon as the emotional override had
been released, however, a semi-joking fistfight had ensued before Kingsley stepped in the break it
up.

As for Hermione, she seemed to have reached a plateau with her powers, and she did not like it.
She continued to communicate mentally with the boys, and even somehow managed to rebound their
thoughts to one another with little effort at all, allowing them to communicate with each other as
well whenever she was in the room or nearby. Of course, she also had not been able to practice as
much as the boys, do to her ever-present episodes.

The thing that Hermione hated most about the episodes was that she never knew when they were
coming or how bad they would be. According to Madam Pomfrey, who came by to check up on her once a
week, she was healing well, but the episodes could continue for up to four to six months. The nurse
had also said that they might be over in as few as two months, but that was still very little
comfort to Hermione, who had only been suffering for two weeks and already had enough.

Today was a good day, since she had not had any episodes at all, and that made Hermione happy.
Her worst day had five episodes, a thought that made her shudder. Normally they only happened when
she was conscious, but there had been two exceptions so far. Hermione felt guilty waking Harry in
the middle of the night but she could hardly help herself, and he never mentioned any anger about
it. He simply held her and talked to her and wiped at her tears as they streamed down her face
until eventually it was over and they could both go back to sleep. Hermione knew that Harry
continued to blame himself, so she was thankful for days like today when they could pretend
everything was normal.

*Speaking of Harry*, Hermione thought to herself, *Where on Earth is he?*

Ron looked up. Oops. She had not been thinking to herself after all. Ron shrugged, too tired to
do more, and went back to his chicken. Today had been especially grueling. It included a
morning-long battle simulation in which they were only allowed to use their Triptych powers. Harry
did quite well, summoning various objects this way and that, but Hermione and Ron were not as good
with controlling objects, since it was not a natural affinity for their powers. That said, they had
done very well as a team, and after what she considered to be a far-too-short lunch break, they had
gone straight to dueling practice.

Draco came along to this, which made Hermione happy since Kingsley was a much better teacher
than she could be. They had been working on physical strength and battle abilities lately, and
today had been the hardest yet. After a two-mile run through the woods (they were still working
their way up), several sprints, some basic combat exercises, and some muscle extension (Hermione
was almost able to do the splits), they had spent an *hour* on hand-to-hand combat. Even with
safety charms, which were designed to heal immediately, the initial hits always hurt. Every twenty
minutes they had switched partners, so they could compare themselves to each other.

Hermione looked up as Harry walked into the kitchen, sitting down at the table and digging into
his own potato, slathered in sour cream. “Where have you been?” she asked curiously.

Harry chewed and swallowed before answering, knowing her pet peeves, “I had something to take
care of.”

Hermione sighed. In the past two weeks, she had lost count of how many times she had asked him
the same question, only to receive the same answer. It bugged her not to know what he was doing,
and even tried to read his mind with the hope of getting an actual answer out of him, but he had
not taken the bait, and was very successful in hiding whatever “something” was. She soon gave up,
though, thinking it was unfair of her to use her powers in their relationship.

Ron let out a loud belch as he stood up, grabbing a chocolate muffin from the centerpiece
basket, ignoring the disgusted expressions worn by everyone in the room except Dobby, who was
looking at Ron in awe. “I'm going to go shower and tidy up the guest room. I'll see you lot
in the morning. Maybe not you Malfoy, if there's any luck.”

Draco scoffed as Harry and Hermione bid Ron goodbye, who then stood up shortly after, leaving
the two of them at the table, still picking at their dinners. In honor of Hermione's birthday
the next day, Ginny and Luna were visiting for the weekend. Though they all were excited -
excluding Draco who did not care one way or the other - Ron was positively beside himself. Hermione
had never seen him resemble Mrs. Weasley more than he had lately in the entire time she'd known
him.

“I can't believe he's *cleaning* for her,” Hermione commented later that night as
she lay cuddled up against Harry in bed, “He certainly never did that for me.”

She felt Harry grin against the top of her head, “Hermione Granger, are you jealous of Luna?
Surely you aren't still fostering feelings for a certain red-headed best friend of ours?” His
tone was joking, but she could sense an underlying truthfulness to his question.

Hermione laughed, “Don't be silly, Harry. I have not fancied Ginny in ages.”

Harry stiffed for a moment before replying, “Well, if we're talking about *Ginny*
I'm sure that some sort of arrangement can be made…”

“In your dreams, darling. No, I am not jealous of Luna. I am simply surprised that anyone aside
from Mrs. Weasley can persuade Ron to clean up after himself.”

“Ron? But he's the cleanest bloke I know!” Harry laughed, the sobered, “I am happy to hear
that you are not jealous, though, because Luna Lovegood has nothing on you.”

Hermione patted his chest, smiling up at him and giving him a peck on his chin, “You may be a
bit biased.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, yawning.

With a smile, Hermione stroked the arm he had around her. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“'Night.”

It was not long before he was snoring softly, but Hermione, despite her utter exhaustion, found
herself wide awake. Careful not to jostle the sleeping form next to her, she slipped out of bed,
snatching Mrs. Potter's diary and heading down the stairs.

Quietly she crept onto her favorite chair in the corner of the living room, looking at the
still-blank pages. Though she had been dedicating every spare moment - there were not many - over
the past two weeks to cracking whatever was blocking Lily's words, she had not gotten any
further. It drove her crazy to hold such a critical piece of information and not have access to any
of its contents. It was worse than being locked out of the library.

Hermione was not sure how long she sat there, curled up in a tight ball as she racked her brain
for a new idea, something that she had not yet tried, but the sudden sound of the wooden floor
creaking was enough to snap her out of her reverie. Covering her mouth to silence herself, she
looked up to find Malfoy. He appeared just as shocked to see her.

“What are you doing here?” they asked in hushed tones at the same time. Both of them waited
stubbornly for a response. As Draco finally gave in and slumped into the nearby couch, Hermione
discreetly slid the diary into the drawer of a small table.

“I was just coming down for a drink and I saw a light on, so I was going to turn it off,” he
replied, leaning his head against the back of the couch and shutting his eyes.

Hermione nodded. “Having trouble sleeping?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Draco's head snapped up at this. “No,” he answered, though it was obviously a lie, “Why
would you say that?”

Hermione smacked herself inwardly. Why had she brought it up? Should she pretend she did not
know anything? The image of him curled up beneath his sheets as he whimpered and moaned in pain was
still thoroughly engraved in her head. It was there constantly; every time she saw him. How could
she say it, though? “I noticed…er…I saw…” Hermione sighed, “I know that you've been having
nightmares.”

One of Draco's eyebrows shot up, “What are you talking about?”

Suddenly incredibly embarrassed for some unknown reason, Hermione stuttered, “A few weeks ago,
before the attack. I had come in to ask why you never came downstairs and you were asleep,
and…”

“Oh.” Draco seemed as uncomfortable as she was for a moment, but it passed quickly. He stood,
heading to the kitchen, his manner very stoic, “It was a one time thing, Granger. I hardly even
remember what the dream was about.” He laughed condescendingly, “I can't believe you were
actually worried about me.”

Hermione blushed furiously, angry at his tone. She knew what she'd seen, and it was no
ordinary nightmare. She also hated that he'd gone back to referring to her by her last name,
something she'd though they had gotten past recently. Abruptly she stood, tired, and grabbed
the diary. “Well, excuse me if some of us are capable of human emotions such as compassion,
*Malfoy*.”

Once in bed again, she slid back beneath the sheets and Harry stirred for a moment, “'Mione?
Whazgoinon? You `mkay?”

Hermione smiled, giving him a soft kiss on the lips, “Everything is fine sweetie. Go on back to
sleep.”

Harry nodded, drifting off again, and Hermione smiled. Without his glasses, a certain innocent
quality about him made Hermione want to protect Harry. Though she was always protective of him, she
usually played the role of the one protected, as much as it sometimes infuriated her. Curling up
against his sleeping form, Hermione was soon lulled to sleep by the rising and falling of his
chest.

~*~

Hermione smiled as she woke up, the feel of Harry's kisses placed along her jaw line already
making her toes curl. One of his hands was currently running up and down her thigh as the other
stroked her cheek. Though her telltale grin alerted him that she was conscious, Hermione kept her
eyes closed and her mouth shut, desperate to hold on to this feeling for a moment longer. His warm
breath trailed up her neck, his lips steadily creeping closer and closer to her own. Hermione
resisted the urge to reach out at grab him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his lips met her own, but only for a moment. She
could feel his smile against her lips. “Happy Birthday, love,” he uttered quietly.

Hermione opened her eyes, immediately greeted with a sparkling green. “Today's my birthday,”
she answered, realizing it for the first time that morning.

Harry laughed, leaning back and helping her up into a sitting position, “How does it feel to be
old and haggard?”

This earned a chuckle, “Harry, I would hardly call eighteen old and haggard.”

He sobered for a moment, “I don't feel eighteen.”

Another laugh, “That's because you are seventeen, dear.”

Harry stared at her, ending all mirth, “I definitely don't feel seventeen.”

Hermione nodded, scooting onto his lap and lacing her arms around his neck, “I know what you
mean. Sometimes with the war and everything going…”

“All the people dying…” Harry added.

“Yes. I forget sometimes what we are.”

“What are we?”

Hermione nestled her head in his neck, “Two teenagers lost in the shuffle, just looking for a
way to make it out alive.”

Harry kissed the top of her head, “Being the `Chosen One' adds a few years.”

“Being the Chosen One's girlfriend comes with a couple of its own.”

They sat there for a few minutes, holding each other. Harry laughed, “Look at me. I wanted to
make this a happy day for you, and already you are sad.”

Hermione smiled up at him, “It was a nice way to wake up. A girl could get used to it.”

Harry kissed her, “I bet you could. Now what do you want to do first?”

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but her stomach growled, “I guess there's your
answer.”

A grin flashed across Harry's face as he hooked an arm under her knees and lifted her up,
carrying her across the room and down the stairs, “Breakfast it is, then. I had Dobby make
something special.”

~*~

“Thank you, Ginny, it's perfect!” Hermione reached over and hugged her friend, smiling down
at her new book illuminator from Wringer's Brew. She'd wanted one for ages, since she loved
the way they evenly lit the entire page and stored important notes, but they were hard to find and
a bit expensive. It meant a lot that Ginny had clearly saved up for one just for her birthday.

Ginny smiled, “I'm glad you like it.”

“I do. Thank you.” Hermione looked at her other two gifts. Ron had surprised her with a soothing
quill, designed to relieve cramps in the hand, arm, and shoulder when one was writing extensively.
Luna had given Hermione a press pass, with would enable her to get into the archives of many
newspapers in the area. It would also give her access to any press conferences held by the
ministry. Hermione was not quite sure how she would use that gift yet, but it was lovely
nonetheless, even if it would only end up helping with some offhand research for her own purposes.
Her parents had not sent anything because Harry had arranged to go to their house for dinner.

Overall, it had been a very pleasant day so far. Luna and Ginny had shown up during breakfast,
and the group was able to catch up. The girls wanted to come to dueling practice, and the trio had
conceded. It made sense, after all. They had only had a bit of light training with Kingsley, and it
ended up being more of a game than anything else. The group had then had a break for lunch, and
from there, they went to the living room for presents.

“That is really great, Hermione,” Luna commented, pointing at the book light from where she sat
at Ron's side, “I absolutely love Wringer's Brew. My father took me there a few weeks ago
to check out a story about their employment of reindeer for transporting goods. They have some of
the most amazing products.”

Hermione nodded, “I've never been to the actual store, only glanced at their catalog.
I'm surprised you remembered that I had wanted one of these,” she added, turning to Ginny.

Harry cleared his throat before Ginny could reply, “Aren't you missing something?”

Hermione played dumb, scanning the room with a furrowed brow, “I don't think so…oh! Do you
mean your present? I assumed you were it!” The group laughed. The truth was that Hermione was
itching to know what he had gotten her, for he'd had the strangest grin plastered on his face
all day.

“Do you want to find out what it is?” Harry asked.

“Yes, please,” she replied, all jokes gone.

Harry stood, holding out his hand, “Then if you'll please come with me, ma'am.”

Curious, Hermione took his hand and followed him into the hall, noticing that the others did not
follow. “Why aren't they coming?” Hermione asked.

Harry smiled, “They've already seen it. I showed it to them while you were in the shower
this morning.”

“Oh.” Hermione tried to remain calm, but on the inside she was very nearly bouncing up and down
with anticipation. They ascended the stairs, reaching the third floor, just down the hall from
their bedroom. Hermione suddenly grew nervous. She was about to speak again when Harry stopped her.
They were standing in front of a door leading to one of the storage rooms that they were yet to
clean out.

“Harry, what's going on?” She asked, confused.

He smiled, clearly very proud of himself, nodding to the door, “Look inside and you'll
see.”

Not able to wait any longer, Hermione did as he told her to. Placing her hand on the doorknob,
she turned it and pushed the door open, entering the room.

It was…Hermione was not sure if she had a word for it, exactly. The room expanded straight out
and to the right of the door in a fairly large square. Straight ahead of her was a table, followed
by three rows of low bookshelves, filled to the max, with a fourth pushed up against the back wall.
To the right of that, in the back right corner of the room, was a cozy fireplace, in front of which
sat a large, comfortable looking chair, with a small round table beside it. The corner was
separated from the rest of the room by foldable partitions. In the front right hand corner of the
room, next to where Hermione was standing, was a large corner desk, extending almost two meters
from the corner in each direction, with four chairs - two on each side. On the wall hung what
looked like small cupboards. Last, directly next to Hermione, against the front wall, was a small
couch.

Hermione turned to Harry, who had walked in behind her, a million questions running through her
mind. “What is it?”

Harry looked ready to burst, “Well, after what you gave me for my birthday I had a tough act to
follow.” Hermione bit her lip, recalling the look on his face when she'd given him the
invincibility potion. “Anyway, I know that you like to do research and projects and experiments, so
I decided to give you a room to do all of those things.”

Hermione's jaw dropped, “You're giving me *a room*?”

Suddenly nervous, Harry replied, “Yes. Is that okay?”

This earned a laugh as Hermione threw her arms around him. “Are you kidding? Of course it is
okay! You got me *a room*! I thought maybe some flowers and a book or two and maybe something
random that I would not think of, but *a room*? I don't even know where to begin!”

Harry laughed, “Do you want me to show you everything?”

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, “Yes. I do.”

Harry held out his arm and Hermione hooked her hand through it, “Okay, well, starting on the
right, we have a couch here. I figured that if you ever pull any all-nighters you can crash here
for a couple of hours. It folds out into a bed also incase for whatever reason you decide to stop
sleeping with me.”

He pointed to the large desk in the corner, “This is your workspace. I know how much you like to
keep different tasks separate, so this is really more like four desks pushed together. You can
always combine projects as well, if you desire. On the walls are temperature-controlled storage
units. There are four of those as well. If you do not reset them they will stay at room
temperature, but can be heated or cooled for different potions ingredients.

“Back here,” Harry went on, turning towards the fire place and chair and table, “Is your
sanctuary. The fireplace had a one-way hook-up to the Floo Network, but otherwise you can mostly
just curl up here with a good book. The chair is really comfortable, I tested it. It also reclines.
You can move or remove these partitions; I just thought you might like a little bit of an escape
once in awhile.”

Harry smiled, turning her towards the bookshelves, “This is my favorite part. These shelves
aren't very tall, as you may have noticed, but completely full. If you want to add to the
collection, tell Dobby and he will take care of it. You can add onto the bookshelves to make them
taller if necessary.

“The front three rows are nonfiction. The back row is fiction. That mostly consists of a little
bit of everything. Comedy, drama, tragedy, etcetera. The nonfiction is the good part. I got all of
our trainers to give me a list of books that might be useful, then I got all of the seventh year
teachers to give me books used and suggested for this year's curriculum, so you don't fall
too far behind. From there I bought new copies of your most worn-in books, and then I pretty much
got every one of the top Defense Against the Dark Arts books ever published. You have two complete
encyclopedias, one magical, one muggle. Lastly I got the owner of Flourish & Blotts to give me
a book about almost every subject. My hope is that if you need to find it, you will. The books are
organized completely and I got you a Search and Scan to help you find topics quickly.”

By now Harry was positively beaming at her, “So what do you think?”

Hermione took a few deep breaths, “Oh. My. God.”

Harry laughed, “Is that good?”

Unable to formulate a verbal response, Hermione simply turned and grabbed the back of his head,
pulling him into a fierce kiss. She felt him stiffen for a moment, surprised, and then relax into
it, kissing her back with just as much force. “I,” she muttered between kisses,
“love…you…so…much.”

He smiled against her lips, “Ditto.”

They had just collapsed on the couch in a fit of giggles when suddenly Hermione gasped in
pain.

*No,* she thought desperately, *No, no no! Not right now.* But she knew it was no use.
Hermione supposed she should have seen it coming. It would have been too good for her to have two
good days in a row.

Without saying anything, Harry turned and laid against the back of the couch, pulling her close
to him, her back against his chest, with his arms around her. He whispered comforting words in her
ear as the tears began to fall. They simply had to ride the wave.

Hermione clenched her teeth as her abdomen caught fire, if only in her head. Harry gently wiped
her cheeks, placing soft kisses on the top of her head. It was enough to keep her conscious, and
enough to get her through it.

Very soon, the pain began to ebb away. It was surprisingly soon, actually, Hermione thought to
herself. The entire ordeal could not have lasted longer than five minutes. Sometimes the pain
continued for over half an hour, so Hermione took this small reprieve as a blessing.

“Are you okay now?” Harry asked as she began to sit up.

Hermione nodded, taking his hand in hers as she leaned her head against his shoulder, “Yes. For
now.”

Harry said nothing in reply, but she knew what he was thinking. Not because she could read his
thoughts - she chose not to do that more than necessary - but because she knew him so well. And
also because he had spoken the same thoughts several times over the past few weeks. Every time the
pain came he was overcome with guilt. He thought it was his fault, she knew, and he blamed himself
for letting the orb hit her. It was only after she demanded it of him that he stopped apologizing,
but he still felt it.

“Are you ready for an evening with your parents?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

With a smile, Hermione turned and look at him, “Yes. As much as I love the company, I think it
will be nice to see them, just the two of us. I really want the three of you to get to know each
other and get along.”

“We get along.”

“You are polite and nice to each other.”

“And that's not enough?”

“It most certainly is not enough,” Hermione replied with a smile, though she was clearly
serious, “I fully intend to marry you one day, Harry Potter, and that means that when the time
comes, the four of us will be family in a very real, binding way. Besides, it is not as if you have
any hostilities toward each other.”

“They blame me for what happened to you.”

“They also know how sorry you are and how much you love me.”

Harry kissed her forehead, “Indeed. I am and I do.”

Hermione jumped up, pulling him with their still-clasped hands and snaking her other arm around
his back, looking up at him with a twinkle in her eye, “That is exactly why they will grow to treat
you like a son. Though you may want to hold off in the `I do' part. I am not entirely sure my
father's heart can handle it.” She waited for him to chuckle at her feeble joke, but he was
staring off into space. “Harry what is it?” she asked.

“So…” he struggled with the words as he continued to look away, “One day. After I've
proposed and we are happily married,” the corner of his lip twitched at this, “Will I be expected
to call them Mum and Dad?”

Hermione paused, choosing her words carefully, “It would be nice, and I'm sure they would
love it, but you would not have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

She pulled his chin until his was looking her in the eye and he blinked, returning to the
present. Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “We are getting ahead of ourselves. I think perhaps we
should have dinner with them first.”

Hermione smiled, “Let's go.”

~*~

“Where are we going?”

“You'll see soon, I promise.”

“Ronald, I can't see anything with this cloth secured over my eyes.”

Ron paused, stopping Luna in the process, with his hands on her waist, “That is the point, you
realize.”

“You don't say?” Luna replied in an airy tone, “I thought perhaps you had enchanted it to
get rid of those dark circles under my eyes. You know I was reading about that the other day
and…”

“Luna?” Ron interrupted as he began steering her again.

“Yes?”

“You've gone into Ravenclaw mode.”

“Is there a problem with acting intelligent?”

“No, I love it. Smart witches are the best. Every girl I've ever liked was intelligent.” He
chose to omit Lavender from this statement.

“Oh? And how many girls might that be?” Luna inquired.

“What? Oh, bugger. You know what, never mind. I think I will just stop talking now, since my
mouth has led us in the wrong direction yet again, creating the entirely wrong mood for this.”

“And `this' would be…” Luna prodded impatiently, though a smile played at her lips.

Ron removed the cloth napkin, “*This*.”

Luna took a moment to look around at the dimply lit room, and then her eyes brightened. She
turned to Ron, her smile lighting up her entire face. “Ronald Weasley, did you do this for me?”

Reaching down and kissing her hand, Ron smiled, “Dobby might have helped a bit.”

Luna responded by grabbing his head and pulling him into a fierce kiss. Ron had discovered that
Luna had a way of kissing where she threw her entire self into it, and the result always made him a
bit light-headed. With his added sensitivity to the emotions of everyone around him - he could not
read them clearly like he could with Harry and Hermione, it was simply more of a tingling sensation
- it was all his could do not to collapse on the spot.

Letting him go, Luna gave him a moment to pull himself back together. Feeling his ears turn
bright red, he shrugged his shoulders, “It's only dinner.”

Taking his hand, Luna looked him square in the eye, “It is the nicest thing anyone has done for
me ever, Ronald, and I love you for it.”

Ron froze, startled at her complete honesty, “You…you love me?”

Reading his expression, Luna tensed up, her eyes growing wider than normal, if that were
possible. “I…I mean, yes! Yes, I do, but you…if you don't…*why is this funny*?”

Ron was grinning, for in his entire life he never thought we would describe Luna as tongue-tied,
but that is exactly what she was. Not wanting her to suffer long, he removed his hand from her own,
framing her face with it and his other hand. Ducking his head, he looked her in the eye and spoke
softly, but clearly, “I love you, too.”

Luna stared back at him, a bit dazed. “You do,” she stated cautiously.

“I really do.”

“And you are not freaked out.”

“I am a bit freaked out, but only because I've never really said that and meant it and
suddenly I feel a bit like I'm free-falling and hoping you'll catch me which makes no sense
since you are such a tiny thing and I'm a bloody beanpole and…”

“Ron?” Luna looked up at him.

“Yes?”

“Let's eat.”

~*~

“I can't believe you *won*!” Hermione exclaimed as she climbed into bed later that
evening.

Harry laughed as he waved his hand, turning out the lights, “You know, if you keep saying that
it will start to injure what little ego I have.”

“Nonsense, you have plenty of ego to work with. I'm just surprised, that's all. No one
has ever beaten my father at Scrabble before. And then that stunt you pulled with the word
`knifed!' I could not believe that was actually a verb!”

Harry rubbed her side as she snuggled up to him, “Me either. But only the `d' and `s'
were open and my other letter was `x,' so naturally the only other word I could think to use
was `sex' and I refused to pull a stunt like that with your parents there.”

Hermione snickered, high on happiness from a wonderful day and a lovely evening, “Honestly, I
think it might have made my father less mad than you beating him. Though winning might have earned
you a bit more respect.”

“Considering I am a teenage boy sharing a bed with his teenage daughter, I would say it earned
me a *lot* more respect.”

She smiled up at him in the dark, “You realize I love you, right?”

“You might have mentioned it once or twice,” Harry replied, cocky.

“I may love my new work room more, though. You might never see me again.”

“The room is an extension of myself, so I am perfectly fine with that.” Harry grinned, waiting
for Hermione to reply. When she did not, he looked down, seeing her biting her lip as her eyes
watered. Knowing that he saw her, she could not repress a small sob that escaped from her lips.
Harry turned, immediately wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back, as he always did.
Knots from in his stomach and he began to feel like he might be sick from the guilt, but he ignored
it, whispering words in her ear and occasionally asking questions so she would stay alert and
focused.

This one was longer than most of the others, lasting for nearly forty gut-wrenching minutes.
When it finally passed, Hermione's body all-but collapsed from the exhaustion of fighting the
dark magic inside her. Knowing she was unconscious and therefore could not hear him, he whispered
softly in her ear, “I am so sorry.” He then gently detangled himself and grabbed his robe, heading
down to the kitchen for a cup of tea to calm his nerves.

He was surprised to find Ron at the table. What was it with this house, he wondered. It seemed
like every time someone came down to the kitchen in the middle of the night, there was another
person there waiting for them.

“What are you doing up?” Ron asked, as it was past midnight.

Harry took a sip of his tea before answering, “Hermione just had a very bad episode.”

Ron frowned, “Poor thing. I can't imagine how bad it must be, and she seems to be hiding the
brunt of it from us.”

Harry nodded, “I agree. Anyway, they just always shake me up, so I thought I'd come calm
myself down a bit before heading upstairs. What are you doing up?”

His companion shifted slightly, “Luna talks in her sleep.”

A grin formed itself on Harry's lips, “Ah, and is Miss Lovegood not in her own room this
evening?”

Ron rolled his eyes with discomfort, “I told her I loved her earlier.

“Congratulations,” Harry replied, “Welcome to the club.” He extended his hand across the
table.

Ron looked at it dubiously, “And what club might that me?”

Harry shrugged, “The Wanting-to-Hate-But-Can't-Help-But-Love-Our-Girlfriends Club. Otherwise
known as Whipped.”

Ron shook his hand, but frowned, “That acronym does not work.”

This earned a laugh as Harry finished the rest of his tea, “It's not an acronym, mate,
it's the truth.”

“It is *not* the truth,” Ron replied indignantly.

Harry laughed as he stood, “Of course, and that is exactly why you are down here drinking tea
instead of upstairs putting a good *Silencio* on Luna. Goodnight, Ron. Happy Beating.”

As Harry headed out into the hall, he crossed paths with Draco Malfoy, who was headed the way he
came. Ignoring him, Harry continued up the stairs, mumbling to himself, “What *is* it with
this house?”

Ron was about to go upstairs as well when his enemy/annoyance walked in. After debating the idea
internally for a moment, Ron turned to Malfoy, who had sat down at the table heavily, completely
ignoring him. “Malfoy, would you say that I'm whipped?”

The other boy looked up at him tiredly, his tone aggressive as he spoke, “Why are you talking to
me?”

“Just answer and I'll leave you alone. I don't exactly enjoy your company either, but I
need a neutral opinion.”

“My opinion is not neutral.” Ron was about to argue, but Malfoy held up a hand, “Yes, Weasley,
you are whipped. *Now* will you leave me alone?”

Ron stomped out of the kitchen and up to his room, where Luna, beautiful as ever, lie on the
bed, softly mumbling to herself. He could only make out a few words here and there, but he
distinctly heard his name as a smile graced her pink lips. Reaching for his wand, Ron held for a
moment and then set it back down. He could not bring himself to simply silence her. Sitting on the
bed, he took her small hand in his own, rubbing it gently. “Luna…Luna, honey, wake up.”

Luna stirred, blinking as she sat up, “What is it? Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Ron shook his head, suddenly a bit nervous, “You were just talking in your sleep, that's
all.”

Luna flushed, staring down at their joined hands, “I do that sometimes. Does it bother you?”

“It just surprised me, that's all,” Ron reassured her.

“All you have to do is roll me over and I'll stop.”

“Okay. I'll remember that. You can go back to sleep now.” He waited, but Luna simply sat
there, a calculating look in her eye. “Is there something bothering you?”

Luna looked up at him, “I'm not very tired anymore.”

Ron tried to process what she was saying, positive that he was missing something obvious, “Okay.
Well, you don't have to go back to sleep if you don't want to, obviously. I'm sorry I
woke you like that.”

“I'm not.” Luna's eyes were probing, trying to send him a message.

Ron sighed after a moment, shaking his head, “I'm very sorry, Luna, but whatever you are
trying to say you are going to have to spell out for me.”

Luna bit her lip in a moment of hesitation before scooting closer and placing a hand on his
shirt, kissing his jaw before looking him in the eye, a tentative smile forming at her lips, “Ron,
I'm *ready*.”

And just like that, he understood.

~*~

Author's Note: A huge thanks to Lady Starlight, as well as to all of you that continue to
read this. It never ceases to amaze me that anything I write is remotely enjoyable for other
people. Thank you.

P.S. If you want to see a drawing of Hermione's workroom, I will be trying to get it up on
my LJ some time this weekend.

-->



26. Treshold
------------



Harry Potter and the Triptych

By Vickles

Disclaimer: Draco is upset about having no girlfriend. I told him that he would get one if
he'd just quit being a prick for two seconds, but I don't think he was listening after
that, because a very colorful set of words came out of his mouth.

A/N: There's a rating for a reason.

~*~

*Ron sighed after a moment, shaking his head, “I'm very sorry, Luna, but whatever you are
trying to say you are going to have to spell out for me.”*

*Luna bit her lip in a moment of hesitation before scooting closer and placing a hand on his
shirt, kissing his jaw before looking him in the eye, a tentative smile forming at her lips, “Ron,
I'm ready.”*

*And just like that, he understood.*

~*~

Chapter 26: Threshold

~*~

Harry was aroused.

Having just come back upstairs from the kitchen, Harry had climbed into bed next to Hermione,
careful not to wake her as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. He'd then laid down and
closed his eyes, attempting to fall back asleep. Then, unexpectedly, his body, if not his mind,
became very alert, suddenly very aware of his surroundings, and the sleeping form next to him.

Hermione was not wearing anything particularly sexy to bed that evening. In fact, she was
wearing a pair of red flannel pajamas that looked as if they would fit on Dudley, if he held his
breath, and were a few years younger, and... Alright, they would not fit Dudley. But they
weren't form-fitting, and that was the point. It was nighttime, so she wore no makeup, not that
she wore much during the daytime, and her face was still stained from her tears earlier. Harry was
completely confused.

After trying to put all thoughts out of his mind, though his mind did not seem to be the
problem, Harry sighed and got out of bed, walking over to the bathroom, where he turned the light
on. Starting the water faucet in the sink, he began to splash his face in cold water. When he still
felt on fire, he pulled his shirt off from over his head and fanned himself with it, desperate at
this point.

“Harry, what are you doing?”

Her soft voice from the doorway broke the dam. Surprising even himself, Harry turned and
immediately launched himself at Hermione, crushing her in an embrace as they stumbled back to the
bed, him placing kisses on her neck and shoulders and chin. She let out a little yelp as they fell
back against the mattress, and he pressed his lips against hers, tangling his tongue with her own
as he began to undo the top buttons on her shirt.

Hermione pulled away and looked down at him as he placed kisses down the column of her neck and
continuing between the open buttons, speaking through her erratic breathing, “Where did this come
from?”

Harry undid the last of the buttons, getting impatient at the end and accidentally ripping the
final one from the fabric. Without a second thought he pulled it from her shoulders, flinging it
across the room. Hermione stared at it in shock before turning her eyes to wear he hovered above
her face, “Harry, what on Earth…”

Her words were stifled as he claimed her lips again, stroking the curve of her breast with one
hand as the other reached down to pulled on the drawstring of her bottoms.

Harry fell back against the mattress as Hermione, with a stunning amount of strength, pushed him
off her and stood, summoning her discarded top from the floor and pulling it back on. She did not
bother to button it as she wrapped it tightly around herself. “Harry Potter, what are you trying to
accomplish here?”

From his spot on the edge of the bed, Harry stared up at her, his mouth slightly ajar and his
eyes wide and confused. He seemed about to reply when he bit his lip, his body convulsing with an
involuntary shudder. Harry shook his head as he stiffened. “Oh my God,” he croaked.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, now out of concern, “What's going on?”

Biting his lip once again, Harry stood and ran to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him,
but not before Hermione got an eyeful of a bulge beneath his pajama pants. Covering her mouth in
surprise, Hermione went and sat on the couch by the fire.

What had just happened? This was rather unusual behavior for Harry. He had always been very
gentle, even during their more heated snog sessions. But this, this urgency - she had never seen it
in him before. And why had he kept pushing it? Harry knew her position when it came to sex, and he
had never seemed to object before. Also, Hermione thought, what was that after she'd pushed him
away? It was as if…

It was as if it had come from outside himself.

Hermione winced. *Oh, Merlin*. She knew she could find out if she was correct in that
moment and was not sure that she wanted to. Taking a deep breath, she let it out, opening her mind
for a few seconds.

*Oh. Bloody hell, Luna. Merlin. Praise the…*

Hermione restored her mental wall, shielding herself from any more of Ron's thoughts. She
looked back at the bathroom, a theory working itself out in her head. Standing, she decided it
would be good to give Harry some space for a while - whether for his sake or her own she was not
sure - and headed to her workroom.

She spent quite a bit of time in there, not altogether positive the reason. Hermione suspected
that she might be trying to stall before returning to their room. After doing a little bit of
research and making a few charts *Okay*, she admitted to herself*, several charts.*
Hermione decided to call it a night and head back to bed.

When she returned the their room, Harry was still in the bathroom, though the door was open. He
was sitting in the empty bathtub, staring up at the ceiling. Sensing her presence, he turned to
look at her, sitting up.

“Hermione, I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me…”

“I do,” Hermione replied, putting the lid down on the toilet seat and perching on top of it,
“Ron.”

Harry raised and eyebrow and studied her for a moment as if trying to decide if she was serious,
“Right. Not to insult your intelligence, Hermione, but Ronald Weasley has never and will never
inspire *that* reaction in me.”

Hermione laughed, “I am talking about the Triptych, you goof. I think that somehow you were
feeling or sensing the same things as Ron earlier.”

“Okay…” Harry replied slowly, “Well, as comforting - and not at all disturbing might I add - of
a concept that is, why has this not happened before?”

To this Hermione could only shrug, “My only guess is that none of us have felt something strong
enough before.”

“Because being hit by a death orb is an everyday occasion.”

“Well, that is puzzling me too,” Hermione admitted, “And I do plan to research this further.
Maybe it's a guy thing”

“Ew,” Harry made a face at her last comment, “I really did not need to bond with Ron on
*that* level.”

Hermione chanced a chuckle, “I bet you enjoyed it.” She burst into laughter at the appalled
expression that came over Harry's features. She held out a hand, “Come on, we should just get
back to bed. It seems like we will have a long day tomorrow.”

Harry looked at her outstretched hand for a moment before sighing, “I think I'll take a
shower first. I feel very … dirty.” He scrunched up his face as he said this.

Hermione nodded, “Okay, well, try not to wake me up when you get done, alright? I'm
knackered.”

“Will do. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

~*~

“Oh my God,” Ron sighed for the hundredth time as he laid back against the mattress, “That was
bloody amazing.”

Luna smiled, her head resting in the curve between his chest and the arm he had wrapped around
her. “That's nice.”

“Are you okay?”

“I'm perfectly fine.”

“Luna?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Luna smiled again, “I know.”

Ron chuckled, “Rather sure of yourself, aren't you?”

Luna yawned, “I was not sorted into Ravenclaw because I *don't* know things. I love
you, too, by the way.”

“Well that's good. I was a bit worried for a moment.”

“Ron?” Luna yawned again.

“Yes, love?”

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

Ron smiled, “As you wish.”

~*~

Ginny yawned and stretched as she sat up in bed, the sunlight drifting in from the window and
putting a smile on her face. She felt well rested. It was a very odd sensation that she had not
been familiar with recently. Flinging the comforter back, Ginny hopped out of bed and gracefully
walked to the door. She grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom.

When she arrived, she found it already occupied. The door was closed and from the inside she
could hear the shower running. Glancing down the hall, Ginny noticed that Draco Malfoy's door
was slightly ajar, and it looked as if his room was empty. Then, recalling what had happened a few
weeks ago, Ginny grinned and opened the door.

And immediately found herself greeted with the sight of her older brother showering. She quickly
shut the door, thankful for the fog provided by steam.

“I never took you for the peeping Tom sort, Weasley. And your own brother! Are the pickings
really so slim?”

Ginny suppressed the temper that flared within her at only the sound of his voice - his stupid,
drawling voice. “It's rude to sneak up on people like that, you know,” she told him, turning
around.

Malfoy only stared back at her, not blinking. He had his hands loosely in his trouser pockets,
and calmly exuded the attitude that made it all too clear that he could not care less about what
she considered rude. At the same time, he managed to look amused at her expression, and yet annoyed
by the very sight of her. It was baffling, to say the least.

Irritated even more by his silence, Ginny sighed, “Just leave me alone.” With that, she stomped
back off to bed.

~*~

“Harry? What are you doing over here?”

Harry blinked from where he lay on the couch and looked up at Hermione, “Oh, I just… you
didn't want me to wake you so…”

Hermione frowned, “I did not mean for you to sleep on the couch, though.”

“It was not a big deal,” Harry replied with a shrug as he stood up, “I was really tired after my
shower and this was closer than the bed. I pretty much crashed and fell asleep. I'm sure you
didn't miss me.”

“I suppose not, it's just…” Hermione's voice faded. She could not explain why, but the
idea of having spent the entire night in the bed by herself made her uncomfortable.

“It's just what?” Harry asked.

Hermione smiled, “Nothing. Go ahead and get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs for
breakfast.”

~*~

Harry and Hermione were sitting at the table eating silently when Ron and Luna walked in, hand
and hand. Exchanging a glance, both Harry and Hermione stood.

“Ron?” Harry spoke as they headed to the door, “Could we speak to you in private for a
moment?”

Ron raised an eyebrow at this, clearly thrown off by their actions, and then nodded, “Sure,
I'm right behind you.” After giving Luna a quick peck on the lips and squeezing her hand, he
followed them up to the study, where Hermione shut the door and cast a Silencio.

“What's all this about?” Ron asked as they turned to look at him.

“Ron,” Hermione began, her wringing hands betraying her intense discomfort, “There really is no
delicate way to put this.”

“We know what happened with you and Luna last night,” Harry finished for her.

Ron's eyes widened, “What? How? Did you hear us? I cast a Silencing Spell and …”

Hermione shook her head, “We didn't hear you. Well, not technically. Erm, you see, it
involves that Triptych and how we are all attuned to each other, and Harry is attuned physically…”
her voice faded as she waited for him to catch on.

Ron's brow furrowed as he looked between the two of him, and then his body suddenly tensed,
“Surely you two are not saying what I think you're saying.”

Harry looked at his feet, severely embarrassed, “I wish. It was like being thirteen all over
again, mate.”

A strange sound was stifled in Ron's throat as he covered it with a cough. “Right then. So
what's the plan?” he looked up at Hermione as he asked this, and Hermione could hear him in her
head. *Please tell me you have already thought of a way to make this situation go away as quickly
as possible.*

Hermione sighed, “Not exactly. My knowledge of the Triptych is based on some very limited
research. I figured since Ginny and Luna have to go back today we could pay a visit to Hogwarts,
stop by, and see Gretta. Don't look at me like that, you two. I know this all makes you very
uncomfortable, but she is an expert in the workings of the Triptych and if we do not get help from
her now we don't know what repercussions we might face later.”

The two of them sighed in response. “I'll go fetch Ginny,” Harry replied, “We best leave as
soon as possible.”

Ron nodded, “And I'll go get Luna. Are we keeping this between the three of us?”

“If you feel it's necessary to tell Luna, I think that's alright, since is does involve
her, but I really see no reason to inform Ginny, unless your plan is to scar her for life,”
Hermione responded with a sigh, “And obviously Draco needs to know nothing more than necessary.
I'm going to set the wards so he can't leave while we're gone - not that he wants to.
Alright?”

“Definitely,” Harry said.

“Could not agree more,” Ron added.

With a nod of understanding, the three of them went their separate ways.

~*~

“Ginny?” Harry asked, leaning through the doorway, “Would you mind getting your things together?
Ron, Hermione, and I thought it would be nice to spend the day at Hogwarts.”

Ginny looked up from where she sat at the edge of her bed, “I'm pretty much ready. Just have
to stick my night clothes in my bag.”

Harry nodded, and then noticed that something was off in her expression. Entering the room, he
stood in front of her, ducking his head as he spoke, “Is everything alright? You didn't come
down for breakfast.”

“I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all. Dobby brought me some toast and juice.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry waited a moment as Ginny bit her lip, something that he had seen Hermione do
when deciding whether or not to say something.

Ginny sighed, “I just feel a bit like a fifth wheel, that's all.”

Harry crouched down in front of her, placing a hand on her arm much as any of her brothers had
done on several occasions, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not really,” Ginny answered with a smile, clearly pleased that he bothered to ask, “But
it's alright. I really am happy for you all.”

“Okay,” Harry stood, and then pulled Ginny to her feet as well. “In that case, if anybody in
particular catches your eye, tell me, and I'll put in a good word.”

He winked in conspiringly, earning a laugh from Ginny as she replied, “I'll hold you to
that, Potter.”

~*~

It was odd, Hermione thought to herself, to be back in Hogwarts after all of this time. She had
been in the library recently, and had made a few stops to the Headmistress' office, but other
than that she had mostly kept to herself. Now, as they passed the Great Hall, Hermione felt a
warmth pulse through her. As the other four headed inside, Hermione nodded to Harry, saying
goodbye, and headed to Gretta's office.

Before their departure, the three of them had agreed that Hermione would talk to Gretta alone
first - there were some other things she had questions about - and then later Harry and Ron would
come by, after meeting up with some of their friends.

Reaching her destination, Hermione calmly knocked on the doorframe, causing the older woman to
look up from her desk. A smile immediately made its way across her features, pleasing Hermione,
“Hermione! I had a hunch you'd be stopping by today. How are you doing?”

Hermione smiled in return and entered the office, taking a seat in one of the cushy chairs
behind the desk. “I'm doing well, though I'm afraid this is not merely a social visit.”

Gretta nodded knowingly, lightly touching her forehead with her left hand, where her quill was
poised, “I sensed as much.”

Hermione laughed, “Any chance that you also *sensed* why I'm here?”

“I'm afraid not, though I do know it has something to do with the Triptych, which I might
have figured out without my Sight.”

“Yes, you're right. Well, I have a couple of things to talk with you about, actually. One is
relating to an incident that took place last night, and the other relates specifically to me.”

Gretta folded her hands delicately on the desk, “I, see. Well, if it does not matter to you,
dear, I'd rather hear about what has been going on with you first, and then we can find Ron and
Harry before I hear the scoop on this incident you are talking about.”

Taking a deep breath, Hermione nodded and began speaking. It was difficult, since she had not
talked to anyone, including Harry, about this until now, “It's about my powers. They're…
expanding.”

“Expanding? Do you mean you are becoming more attuned to them?”

“Not exactly. I mean, yes, I suppose I have become more attuned to them, but that is not what
I'm talking about. They're expanding, as in I don't only hear the thoughts of Harry and
Ron anymore.”

At this comment, Gretta's brows furrowed in concern, “What do you mean?”

Hermione twisted her fingers in her lap, “It's only in flashes, and it is very inconsistent,
but lately - only since yesterday, to be honest - I have been hearing the thoughts of others.”

Gretta nodded, “Am I right in assuming that I am the first person you've told?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Gretta paused for a moment, and then stood, walking over to one of her many
bookshelves and grabbing a small volume from it. She returned to her seat and began flipping
through pages, “Well, I can tell by the concerned look on your face that I don't need to inform
you of the possible risks and problems that may arise if this continues.”

“So far it is only sporadic, but if it becomes constant I assume that it could drive me
mad.”

Gretta looked up and smiled reassuringly, reached out across her desk to gently take
Hermione's hand, “Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

Hermione bit her lip, “Has this ever happened with the Triptych before? It was my understanding
that our powers would extend as far as our triangle.”

“The Triptych is a powerful set of objects that has existed possibly as long as magic itself. It
does not surprise me that over time the edges of its powers would become… blurred a little.
Nonetheless, that is what I'm looking for in here. Have Harry or Ron mentioned anything similar
happening to them?” Gretta asked as she withdrew her hand and returned to her scanning, a small
pair of reading glasses now perched on the tip of her nose.

Hermione shook her head, “No.”

Gretta turned a few more pages, then scribbled a few notes on a scrap of parchment and closed
the book, looking up at Hermione, “Well, I am fairly certain this has not happened before, but that
does not mean you should worry. I'll continue to look into this and we will take this as
it…Hermione, are you okay?”

Hermione, now hunched over in her chair, shook her head slightly, trying to speak, but finding
it difficult. *Damn these episodes!* she thought to herself as her vision blurred.

“Is it your pain? Should I fetch someone?” Gretta had gotten up from her seat and now crouched
in front of Hermione.

Hermione only shook her head again, not wanting to be left along, calming herself to say two
words, “Just wait.”

Gretta nodded, taking Hermione's hand in her own and rubbing gently in a motherly gesture.
Hermione waited it out, the minutes slowly ticking by, until it eventually ended and she could open
her eyes. “Thank you,” she told the older woman.

“Anytime. The pain is still strong?”

Hermione sighed and nodded, “According to Madam Pomfrey it will continue to be for another
couple of months.”

Gretta smiled sadly in response to this, “That sounds like a very long time.”

“You have no idea. Any ideas on what I can do to make it better?”

“Actually, give me a second,” Gretta replied, now perusing her bookshelf again and plucking off
a few titles, both of them Muggle if the frozen pictures on the cover were any indication. She
handed them to Hermione, “Adding any more magic to the equation could be detrimental, so take a
look through these and see if there is anything that catches your interest. They're old muggle
techniques.”

Hermione nodded, taking the books and feeling happier than she had in weeks, “I definitely will,
thank you. How about I go get Harry and Ron so we can talk about the incident I mentioned, and then
we will let you get back to your work?”

With Gretta's agreement, Hermione left, heading to the Great Hall, where she discovered
neither one of her friends was present. Spotting Neville doing some homework at one of the tables,
Hermione walked over and took a seat next to him. “Hi, Neville.”

Neville looked up, a surprised smile making an appearance at the sight of her, “Hermione!
It's good to see you.” With a confidence that caught her off guard, he extended his arms and
pulled her into a friendly hug, “We've missed you around here. How was your summer?”

“Interesting,” Hermione conceded, feeling lighter just talking to her former classmate, “And
yours?”

He laughed, “Boring compared to yours, I'm sure. I saw you in the papers a few times. I told
Gran that it was all a bunch of lies.”

Hermione thought back to the article about her and Harry mattress shopping, and shook her head,
“Yes, it was, actually, but we are together now. Speaking of Harry, did you see where he and Ron
went? I dropped them off here earlier and I seem to have lost them.”

Neville grinned, “They didn't stay for long, actually. Visited for maybe ten minutes before
the two of them and half of Gryffindor set out to play a game of Quidditch. I would have joined
them, but I've been busy lately and had to catch up on some homework.”

Hermione saw him glance down and for the first time noticed the Head Boy badge on his robes.
“Neville! I had no idea! Congratulations!”

Neville smiled proudly, “Thank you. And now I suppose you are going to desert me as well for the
great outdoors?” She noticed his smile faltered slightly.

“I'm afraid so. Business calls - I hope Gryffindor will forgive me for stealing them away,”
She laughed and then smiled brightly, placing her hand on his, “But I promise we'll stay for
dinner, alright?”

“Sounds good,” Neville replied, genuinely happy, “I'll finish my work so I can play Ron at
some chess. I've been practicing.”

“Good. Between you and me, I hope you win,” she winked and stood, “I'll see you later,
Neville!”

“Bye, Hermione!” He called just as she left the hall.

~*~

“We win!” Harry shouted, zooming through the air on one of the school brooms, “Even without my
Firebolt!”

Ginny playfully scowled as Harry's team, including Ron, cheered and her team laughed as he
whizzed around the field in celebration. “I'll beat you next time, Potter!”

“You wish!” he called back, doing a flip in mid-air.

“Harry Potter, if you break your neck I swear I am *not* taking you to the Hospital
Wing!”

Harry leveled himself and looked down to see Hermione standing at the edge of the field, trying
not to smile as she crossed her arms and glared at him. The rest of the Gryffindors turned and
found her as well, looking at him knowingly. Since their relationship was now common knowledge,
Harry could tell what they were jokingly thinking. *Uh-oh, your girlfriend's here. What are
you going to do now, Harry?*

Harry grinned, and decided exactly what he was going to do. Giving Ron a quick nod, he zoomed to
the ground, plucking Hermione off the ground with his extra strength and placing her in front of
him on the broom as he flew by. By the time she could get out a proper scream, they were over
thirty feet in the air. Pulling her close before she could say anything, Harry placed his lips on
hers.

~*~

Hermione smiled against him, not usually a fan of public displays of affection but literally
caught up in the moment. She opened her eyes and brushed his hair out of his face, only slightly
concerned about his ability to concentrate. There certainly was something to be said about kissing
and flying at the same time. Harry opened his eyes and removed his lips for a moment to speak,
“Hold on.”

She had no idea why, but being now a hundred feet in the air, she immediately wrapped her arms
around his back and help tight as he kissed her once more, his tongue doing things to her more
enjoyable than screaming as they began cart-wheeling through the sky. It was the most magical
moment of her life - definitely saying something - until the thoughts of Lavender and Parvati,
conversing down below, leaked into her mind.

*That looks like fun. They seem awfully comfortable with each other.*

*I bet they've had sex.*

*Obviously. They live together. You heard Harry earlier.*

*And who wouldn't have sex with that?*

*Merlin, he's yummy. I'd give anything to be Hermione right now.*

Hermione opened her eyes and tore herself away from Harry as they leveled once again, making
slow circles high in the air. Harry smiled at her, catching his breath, “That was fun.”

Hermione tried to regain her composure as the oxygen returned to her system, “Harry, I want to
go back down now.”

~*~

Harry looked at Hermione with concern. He could tell by the look in her eye that something was
wrong. But what could be wrong? Was she mad at him for kissing her in front of everyone else? He
knew she was usually private, but she had looked like she was in a good mood, and had seemed to
enjoy it…

“Is everything okay?” he asked, stopping the broom and tucking a strand of hair behind her
ear.

Hermione looked down where her fingers toyed with one of the buttons on his pullover,
“Everything's fine. We should just be getting back to Gretta, that's all. I told her I
would be quick.”

Harry nodded, not believing her for a second, “Alright, we can go. Tell Ron.”

Without a nod, Hermione looked over at Ron, sending the message his way. As soon as he
acknowledged her, she turned around on the broom, facing forward, “Let's go.”

Knowing that whatever had just happened would bite him in the arse later, Harry wrapped an arm
around her waist and steered the broom to the ground. For now, they had other things to deal
with.

~*~

“So is that everything that happened?” Gretta asked as the three of them finished their
retelling of the previous night's events. Ron did not have much to say, only nodding and giving
one word replies to verify anything that Harry or Hermione said. His mind was elsewhere. He still
had not told Luna about any of this, and was deciding if he should.

The previous night should have been perfect, and it was, but it also should have been private,
which it clearly was not. It would have been acceptable for them to talk about it to other people
later, but this, this invasion of his body and his mind…it was all just so wrong. It was bad enough
that the knowledge of what happened spoiled a bit of the evening for him. He did not think it was
fair to do the same to Luna.

Luna. He smiled just thinking about her, and quickly tried to cover it up so that his friends
would not look at him and think that he was crazy. She was just so perfect, in everything. He could
still remember tracing his fingers along the delicate curve of her hips, wanting to memorize every
part of her. Luna had smiled when he said this out loud, and told him that it would come in
time.

Being the teenage boy he was, Ron had grinned at the implications of her statement. Clearly this
meant that there would be other times, other chances for him to look at her and touch her and love
her and remember all over again every reason her fell in love with her to begin with.

Merlin. Ron laughed inwardly at himself, completely ready to shout his love from the rooftops
and write poetry or something of the like. He wondered what Hermione would say now, him having
previously possessed the emotional range of a teaspoon. As Harry spoke, Ron noticed her turn in his
own direction and give him a quick, gentle smile, and reminded himself that she could hear him. For
her sake, he tried to censor some of his thoughts, but it was so hard. Already, he was wondering
when this meeting was over so he could see Luna again. They did not have much time left. He wanted
to hold her and kiss her and listen to her voice as she told him about her day and what she had
planned for the week. And, he conceded to himself, he wondered if they would have time to do it
again.

Hermione let out a small squeak and tried to disguise it with a clearing of her throat. She then
looked up at Gretta, “Yes, that's pretty much what happened. I don't think there is really
anything to add.

Gretta nodded, “Well, I think that this is pretty much a simple case of control. You three have
had problems similar to this in the past, and they went away when you became more used to your
powers. I'd give it a week or two. Once Harry is adapted to his added sensitivity, I think
you'll see that things will return to normal.”

Ron nodded, “So is that all?”

“Yes, I believe so. I'd like you three to come back here again in a week or so to see how
everything is going, mostly as a precaution. Other than that you may all return to your normal
lives.”

“Thank you, Gretta,” Hermione said with a smile, and then turned to Ron and Harry, “I promised
Neville we'd stay for dinner. I'll see you then.” With that she turned and left the room,
and Ron swore he felt the air get a bit colder.

He turned to Harry, “Is something up with her?”

Harry shrugged, “Probably. I think I'll give her a little space before I find out what it is
though. See you later, mate. Goodbye, Gretta.”

Gretta nodded, but as Ron turned to go, she asked him to stay behind for a moment. Ron hovered
by the door, “Yes?”

The woman made no attempts at pretense, “Luna is one of my students, and I have a certain soft
spot for her. I trust you used protection?”

Ron felt his ears redden as he nodded numbly, “Er, yes, ma'am, of course.”

Gretta smiled, “Good. I would hate to think you'd be so irresponsible. I'll see you next
week, then.”

Ron nodded again, then turned and left as quickly as he could.

~*~

He found Luna reading a book beneath a tree, the soft breeze blowing her hair across her face
and causing her to reach up and brush it away, scrunching her features each time, every ten seconds
or so. Smiling at the sight, Ron wanted to wait a few moments before he interrupted her. This, of
course, would not do. Perhaps sensing his presence - *was that possible?* Ron wondered to
himself - Luna looked up in his direction, a bright and unedited smile crossing her features as her
eyes met his. She marked her page in the book and patted the ground beside her, motioning for him
to come over.

Ron did, seating himself between her and the tree trunk so she could lean against his chest and
he could sniff her hair as he pleased. Even sitting, the top of her head barely reached his chin.
“Are either of your parents tall?” he wondered out loud.

Luna turned and smiled at him, “My father is almost as tall as you are, actually. But my mother
was very small,” she paused as a sad laugh made it's way from her lips, “If she were still
alive I imagine I'd actually be a bit taller than her.”

“Really?” Ron laughed at this as well, giving her a gentle squeeze, “I can scarcely imagine you
being taller than anyone. You are the tiniest thing I've ever seen. Except maybe a nymph or a
gnome, I suppose.”

She only slapped his leg, turning back to face the leg, “Well pardon me if I'm not a great
hulking giant. Another growth spurt and you'll be giving Hagrid a run for his money.”

“Then I'll just have to carry you around in my pocket then. With your tiny legs you'd
never keep up,” he kissed her neck softly.

“With your giant hands you'd probably squeeze me to death.”

Ron growled and wrapped both arms around her waste, tightening his grip just slightly, “Take it
back.”

Luna smiled, “Never.”

He squeezed tighter, careful with his actions nonetheless, “Take it back.”

“Or what?”

Ron hesitated, but only for a moment, “Or I'll never let go.”

Luna shifted so she could look at him, his blue eyes boring into her grey ones, “Is that a
promise?”

Ron nodded.

“Then I will never take it back,” she paused for a moment, her lips less than an inch from his,
“Though…”

“Though what?”

She smirked, “Though that would make using the loo rather awkward, don't you think?”

Ron laughed and gently shoved her away, pretending to scowl as he stood, “You just ruined a
perfectly romantic moment, I hope you know. I'm never going to attempt that again.”

“Liar,” Luna replied as he helped her to her feet, “My mere presence makes you want to recite
poetry.”

He sighed dramatically at this, “You have been spending far too much time with me. I don't
recall you being this witty when I met you.”

Luna sobered, “You bring out the best in me, and I don't spend nearly enough time with
you.”

Ron reached down to take her hands in his, “Now that I cannot disagree with.”

~*~

After returning to the house to retrieve the Marauder's Map, Harry was able to locate
Hermione in the Room of Requirement - only because he could not find her anywhere on the map at all
- and mentally admonished himself. He should have thought to look there earlier.

Harry entered the room, surprised by the sight. The area was completely empty except for a lone
oversized beanbag, where Hermione sat, staring at her hands. She spoke without looking up, “How did
you find me?”

“You weren't on the map,” he replied.

Hermione nodded, but said nothing else.

“Hermione, what's wrong?” Harry kneeled in front of her and reached for her hand, but she
pulled it away. He paused, choosing his words carefully, “Have I done something wrong?”

Hermione shook her head, but the movement was half-hearted.

Harry sat down on the wooden floor, “I can't help if you don't tell me what's going
on, hon.”

Finally, after several long moments, Hermione looked up, her raw expression boring into
Harry's eyes, “I'm not ready to have sex yet.”

“I know that,” Harry nodded, waiting for the other shoe to drop, “What is the problem?”

Hermione blinked, frozen, “That *is* the problem.”

Harry tried to figure out what he was missing, “The problem is that you don't want to have
sex?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Why is this a problem?”

“Because you do.”

“No I…” Harry started to lie but then stopped as he saw Hermione's expression, “Well,
alright, I do want to have sex, but I'm a seventeen-year-old male. I'm pretty sure
that's in the brochure. I just don't understand why this is suddenly a problem now.”

“Because Ron had sex.”

“And…? Help me out, Hermione. I'm not following.”

Hermione sighed, “And apparently you gave half of Gryffindor the impression that we already had
it!”

Harry leaned back, bracing himself against the floor with his palms, “When did this happen?

“When I was with Gretta, obviously.”

“Who told you this?”

“No one.” Hermione began biting her lip.

“Then how…”

“Because I heard them earlier when we were out on the pitch and you were kissing me. I can hear
what they're thinking, Harry. I heard Lavender and Parvati talking and they thought it was
obvious that we were sleeping together and that you had said something to them earlier and then I
started thinking about the way you swooped down like that in front of everyone and…”

Harry nodded, now understanding what was going on, or at least he thought. “Hermione, please
listen to me. The only thing I said was when they asked me if you and I really felt that way about
each other, and I said that I'm madly in love with you, because it's true. And the only
reason I swooped down and kissed you like that was because I thought you'd like it and to let
them see what an awesome thing we have. I did not tell them that we are sleeping together.”

Hermione exhaled, “Really?”

Harry took her hand in his, and this time she didn't fight him, “Really. You know me,
Hermione. Even if it were true, I would never publicize it like that. I wish you'd said
something.”

“It just shocked me, that's all. And that kiss was a bit of you showing off, admit it.”

Harry grinned, “Maybe a little. But it was amazing wasn't it? We'll have to try that
again sometime.”

She slapped his arm, but nodded nonetheless, “Yes, we certainly will.”

~*~

Dinner was a pleasant affair. Hermione enjoyed the Hogwarts fare that she had been missing.
Dobby was excellent, but he had them on a somewhat strict diet for their training, and the Hogwarts
elves were brilliant, even if they refused to be paid. As they finished up, Neville and Ron settled
into a game of chess, which Neville nearly won - Hermione could hear Ron's panic several times
during the match. As the Gryffindor boys, including Ron, Harry, Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Colin,
started up a game of Exploding Snap, Ginny turned to Hermione and asked if she fancied a walk.
Feeling a little bit crowded and noticing that Ginny wanted to talk about something, Hermione
agreed, and gave Harry a quick kiss goodbye

It was a quiet night and the air was warm as it softly blew against Hermione's cheek. Hardly
any students roamed the castle grounds, not needing their wands as the moon was bright. Ginny was
tacit as she strode gracefully along the grass, her brown eyes dark Hermione waited patiently. She
knew that the younger girl would speak when she was ready.

Abruptly, Ginny came to a stop, taking a seat on one of the large rocks bordering the lake.
Hermione sat down besides her, waiting.

“Can I ask you something?” Ginny asked, her voice cracking a bit as if she'd been so
distracted that she forgot how to use it.

“Of course.”

“When things started… with Harry, how did you first realize it?”

Hermione hesitated for a moment, waiting to see if she could hear Ginny's thoughts and know
where this would lead, but it did not come. She spoke slowly, “I'm not sure, exactly. It was
not all at once, you see. Harry insists that it started with the nightmares, but I think it had
been coming even before that.”

“The nightmares?” Ginny asked, curious.

Hermione nodded, having forgotten that she had not told anyone about this, aside from Ron, who
was there, “I had this really horrible nightmare one night, and I saw Harry dead. When I woke up I
was completely beside myself, convinced that it was true. It was horrible,” she said with a brief
shudder, “Ron heard my hysterics and came to help, but he could not really do anything, and I could
tell it hurt his feelings, but I just had this overwhelming sensation. I *needed*
*Harry*.

“I was not able to fall back asleep in my bed after that so he took me up to his room, and we
eventually fell asleep on his bed,” Hermione smiled in recollection, “He slept on top of the
covers. It was so sweet. After that neither of us could stand to sleep apart, and it pretty much
became a matter of denial.”

Ginny smiled, “So that's when it started?”

Hermione shrugged, “I suppose. That's what Harry says at least. Personally, I think he was
fairly oblivious right up until our first kiss and says that so I'll think better of him. I
think it began that day when Ron made that comment about my appearance.”

“I remember that,” Ginny replied with a nod, “Harry went after you. What happened?”

“Not much, I suppose. Harry had to convince me that I was beautiful and threatened to go punch
Ron for making me think otherwise. He made me say that I'm beautiful, and insisted that as long
as both of us thought it no one else mattered. I felt so happy and gave him a hug, knocking both of
us over, and I remember not wanting to let him go,” Hermione blushed and looked down at her hands
clasped in her lap, “That's when it began for me. I had a rather tragic date with Ron not long
after, and Harry was there to listen to me whine about it.”

“He can be really sweet when he wants to be,” Ginny commented.

“I know,” Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled, “So what's going on, Ginny? I can't
imagine you brought me out here to listen to me talk about my boyfriend.”

Ginny sighed, hesitating for a moment, “It's about Malfoy.”

Hermione froze, choosing her words carefully, “What about him?”

“Is he always such an infuriating arse?” Ginny asked.

“Mostly, yes.”

“But…”

Hermione could not hold her tongue any longer, “Ginny, please let me stop this before it can
even begin. Don't think about Malfoy like that, alright?”

Ginny stiffened, bruised, “I don't see you giving him the cold shoulder.”

“Please don't make me the enemy, Ginny,” Hermione replied gently, “I know how he is. He has
a charisma that makes you want to be around him no matter how much of an arse he is, and even I can
turn away from Harry long enough to recognize that he is attractive,” she waited for Ginny to stop
her and when she didn't, plowed on, “But there is one important thing that you much always
understand when you are around Draco Malfoy. The only thing that he cares about is himself. On his
list of priorities, he is always number one. I don't know exactly why this is and I probably
will never find out, but I simply don't think you deserve to be with someone who feels that
way.”

Taking a moment to herself, Ginny spoke, “I understand, but try not to overreact, Hermione. I
was not exactly planning to marry the guy. I just thought…I don't know. It was just a silly
infatuation.”

“Okay,” Hermione nodded, then tried to lighten the air, “Well, if that's all, I happened to
notice some Gryffindor boys giving you a second glance. Neville Longbottom is looking rather
dashing with that new Head Boy badge of his. Just imagine using that power to stay out after
curfew…” she winked conspiringly.

Ginny laughed, reaching over and smacking Hermione on the leg, “I always knew you were attracted
to power.”

Hermione shrugged innocently, “Perhaps.”

~*~

“I'm so tired!” Ron exclaimed when they arrived at the house much later that evening,
“I'm going to get myself some tea and head straight to bed!”

“Here, here!” Hermione added with a yawn, leaning heavily against Harry as they entered the
kitchen.

Draco sat at the table, holding an orange envelope in his hand, a smirk playing at his lips,
“This came for you in the post. It's from Jokin.”

Hermione took a seat beside him as Harry reached over and took the envelope. “Do you know what
it is?” she asked as Harry opened it, the envelope turning into a pumpkin, or rather, a
jack-o-lantern.

Draco nodded, no longer hiding his grin, “You've been invited to the Halloween Ball.”

~*~

A/N: Thanks to Lady Starlight for the editing work. Check for information at http://xvicklesx.livejournal.com. Please review!

-->