Here at the End

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Five: Not the Ideal Girl

Disclaimer: Still don’t own Harry Potter. Dammit.

Ideal girl, ideal shmerl. Or something.

***********************************

“Ow!” Harry said, as one of Hermione’s hexes hit him in the shoulder.

“Oh, sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry,” Harry muttered, panting, but he sounded a little insincere, even to himself. They had been sparring for over an hour; he had been hit with more stinging hexes than he could count, and it felt like his wand was going to wilt.

Hermione was walking over to him (she didn’t have the energy to run), and putting her own wand into her pocket. Harry let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t think he could take any more of those hexes. They were practicing out by the lake, using the trees as cover.

“We should practice one more thing today,” Hermione said and Harry fell against the nearest tree trunk. How could she want to keep going? She looked awful; there were bits of her hair singed off from Harry’s own hexes, and her face was covered in dirt from diving behind trees. “There’s a spell that I-” she paused. “Well, that I’m working on…Voce Extricia, it’s not perfect yet-”

“Wait,” Harry said. “You’re writing spells?” Harry was impressed. They didn’t really start to learn spell work until their seventh year. “What does it do?”

“The person hit with it has no inner monologue. They can’t think anything to themselves.”

Harry grinned. “They wouldn’t be able to use wordless magic. We’d know everything they were thinking! Hermione that’s brilliant!”

She started to blush. “I thought of it just after I really got good at nonverbal spells.”

“Harry! Hermione!”

They turned to see Hagrid lumbering towards them, a rather jolly look on his face and a smoking pipe in one hand.

“Hello, Hagrid,” Hermione smiled.

“You’d better come with me up to the castle. Professor-er-Headmistress McGonagall wanted ter make an announcement over the evenin’ meal.”

Harry looked up into the sky. The sun was just dipping down below the horizon. He hadn’t realized that it was so late. But at least that meant that training was over. He followed Hagrid and Hermione towards the castle, listening to her inquire after Buckbeak (the entire ‘Witherwings’ fiasco was completely forgotten; the Ministry had more important things to deal with), and looking forward to a hot steak and kidney pie.

**************

Headmistress McGonagall and the other professors were gathered at the head table in the Great Hall when Harry walked in. Hermione was already there in her usual seat. He still thought it felt strange, having the Great Hall so empty. It echoed terribly, and it felt too big. Lonely almost. It never had that feel over the winter break, when it was decorated with candles and holly for Christmas. But he supposed that this was what it was always like during summer break…that it was normal….and had nothing to do with the fact that Dumbledore was no longer at the head table.

“I have a wonderful announcement,” Headmistress McGonagall said, as Harry helped himself to steak and kidney pie. “Next week, the Hogwarts Express will depart from King’s Cross.” There were widened eyes and a few murmurs around the table. Professor Sprout gave a little gasp. “The school will reopen.”

“Was there ever any doubt?” Nearly Headless Nick chuckled, floating just behind Hermione’s chair.

“A significant bit of doubt actually,” the Headmistress said. “I spent hours…days arguing with the trustees, until they realized that students should not be denied an education, that we shouldn’t bend to the will of-Voldemort. However, it is unlikely that many students will return. Many parents will take it upon themselves to educate their children.” She looked down.

Harry glanced at Hermione, who offered a small smile. She was probably thinking that Ron would be back soon, he thought. And that meant that Ginny would be back too.

**********

When Harry woke up the next morning he couldn’t move. That is, his body simply refused to. Every muscle was knotted and sore. After lying motionless for a few minutes and gathering his nerve, he swung himself completely out of bed, wincing, and made his way down through the Common Room to the showers, which were thankfully, Moaning Myrtle-free.

****

“Good morning, Harry,” Hermione said brightly. She was eating a bowl of porridge and sipping from a tall glass of pumpkin juice. Harry also noticed that she looked very limber.

“Harry,” she said, puzzled, “Why are you just standing there? Sit down and eat; we’ve got a lot of training to do after breakfast. Really we should get as much in as we can before the term starts again-”

Term, Harry thought dismally. And classes. And homework. And Quidditch. Plus training? There just didn’t seem to be time enough in his day. And just now, there wasn’t stretch enough in his legs to allow him to sit down.

“Would you like some toast?” she asked, reaching towards the plate and the butter and jam.

“Yes,” Harry said, unable to move his arms.

Hermione quickly buttered a bit of toast and then asked what kind of jam he wanted, raspberry or blackberry. Harry looked at her sheepishly, wondering how on earth she could be fine when he was in tremendous pain. He had hit her with just as many stinging hexes! Even more, actually! Hadn’t he? “Blackberry,” he said, and Hermione dipped her spoon into the jam. She held the toast out to him. “Could you just put it in my mouth?” He mumbled, even though they were alone.

“What? Oh Harry,” Hermione scolded. “I thought you must’ve known to go to Madam Pomfrey! When I woke up I could barely move; I went there straightaway.”

“Well I didn’t,” Harry said somewhat defensively. “I’ll go there after breakfast. Now would you please just feed me my toast?”

Hermione giggled. “You can’t go after breakfast. Madam Pomfrey is gone for the next two days, she’s got some kind of a mediwitch conference or something.”

Harry frowned, then brightened. “Well then I guess there’s no way to train today! If I can’t move,” he said with a smile, until Hermione stuffed toast into his mouth.

“Come with me, Harry,” she said.

***

Hermione left Harry sitting in the Common Room while she went into her dormitory. He was glad to be sitting, even though it had taken a moment or two to lower himself onto the couch.

“Here we are,” Hermione said, coming back down the stairs. She walked over and presented Harry with a white jar with a bright red label.

“Esmerelda Snuffington’s Dueling Cream,” Harry read. “Maximum pain relief for all hexes, curses, and stuns. External use only.” He looked down at his useless arms. “Would have been easier if I could just eat it,” he mumbled.

Hermione smiled. “I’ll help you, Harry,” she said. “Madam Pomfrey had to do my back and one of my arms for me too. I couldn’t believe how stiff I was; the stairs up to the hospital wing almost did me in!”

Hermione unscrewed the lid and rolled up his sleeve. She began to rub a bit of cream onto his skin and he was taken back by the horrible smell, which reminded him vaguely of the slugs that Ron threw up during their second year.

“Smells awful,” Hermione agreed, wrinkling her nose. “Sorry.”

But Harry hardly cared. Esmerelda Snuffington was a genius! The cream worked instantly, leaving a pleasant warm sensation in place of the pain. He flexed his fingers tentatively; they were completely loose and felt even better than usual. “This is terrific! Hermione, why are you stopping?” She had worked her way up his arm and then sat back, nibbling her lower lip.

“Well, I- can’t really go any farther,” she said, and Harry looked down at his rolled up sleeve.

“Oh-” Harry said, and was surprised at how disappointed he sounded. “That’s all right, I can-”

“This is silly!” Hermione exclaimed. “We’re adults, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” Harry said thoughtfully, realizing it for the first time since his birthday. “I suppose that we are.”

“Right then,” Hermione said, looking very determined. Her hands went to his shirt buttons, then drew back, then went forward again. A definite blush was beginning to creep into her cheeks. Harry was about to say that he could apply cream to his other arm and take the shirt off himself, but the singular way that she was focusing on each button and the way she was nibbling her lip were too amusing. She slipped his shirt off of his shoulders and sat back, then started to apply cream to his shoulder. Harry turned around when she gestured with her hand, so that she could rub more into his back.

At first it was awkward, being shirtless in front of a girl, but soon the cream started to work, and Harry forgot all about it.

“There you are,” Hermione proclaimed. “Done. You can do the rest yourself.”

Harry pulled his shirt back on and stretched his back, marveling at how good it felt. Beside him, Hermione was smiling to herself.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said, and then, “Well, it’s just that, you don’t have a Hungarian Horntail.”

Harry was puzzled for a moment and then grinned, remembering Ginny’s joke about a tattoo. “Of course not,” he said. “And she wouldn’t know if I did, actually. She’s never really seen my chest.” Harry started to blush as well. He didn’t know why he had said that.

“Well,” Hermione said, her voice like a song, “You’d better finish up. I’ll meet you outside in twenty minutes.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to do my toes?” Harry said teasingly. “You hexed them pretty badly yesterday- really I thought you’d be a bit guilty-” He was abruptly cut off by a dollop of Dueling Cream connecting with his face. He heard Hermione laughing.

“Why don’t I just do your face? That’s the part that hurts me the most.”

It took Harry a minute to realize that Hermione was joking, and then he started laughing too. He dipped his fingers into the open jar. “I think I should do your hair…it got a bit scorched, didn’t it?”

Hermione was rolling, and he supposed that he did look pretty funny with a big spot of cream on his face. “You keep away from me with that, Harry Potter!” she screeched. But Harry couldn’t resist flinging it a bit into her hair. “Why you-!” She came at him, smearing the cream on his face onto the corner of his mouth.

“Hermione!” he laughed. “External use only!”

“What the bloody hell is going on in here? What’s that all over your face?”

Harry and Hermione abruptly stopped wrestling. Standing just behind the couch was Ron, and behind him, with one hand still resting on the portrait hole, was Ginny.

Harry looked at Ginny, whose eyes were wide. What must they look like, sitting on the couch covered in Dueling Cream? She must think I’ve gone mad, he thought with embarrassment.

Hermione cleared her throat and stood up, shaking her wand wordlessly at herself and then at Harry. The cream disappeared from his face and her hair, and he knew that she had used Scourgeify. “When did you get back?” she asked them, her voice a little too loud and too happy sounding.

“Mum dropped us off just now.” Ron was looking back and forth from Hermione to Harry with a questioning look on his face. “What’re you two doing?”

Hermione was uncharacteristically wordless, so Harry said, “Dueling Cream,” very simply, trying to avoid Ginny’s eyes. “Why didn’t you take the Hogwarts Express next week?”

“Mum thought it might be safer to come now. She’s got some kind of paranoid notion that the train might get attacked,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.

Ginny pushed past her brother. “I think she’s right,” she snapped. “And I think a lot of parents are thinking that way…that train’ll probably be close to empty when it leaves the station!”

Hermione nodded. “I wonder if anyone else has thought of that.”

“I’m sure they have,” Harry said.

“Well just in case, someone should mention it to Headmistress McGonagall.” Hermione looked at Harry, and then glanced at Ginny, before finally settling her gaze on Ron. “Do you, want to come with me, and tell her what your Mum said?”

“Sure,” Ron nodded, still looking a bit put out. Together they walked to the portrait hole, and Ron held it open while Hermione ducked through. She gave one last glance at Harry before she disappeared.

“I’ll meet you outside in five minutes Hermione!” Harry shouted. And then he and Ginny were alone.

“Ron told me what happened at Godric’s Hollow,” Ginny said softly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Harry said, looking longingly at the portrait hole. Why had Hermione brought Ron with her? Didn’t she know that he didn’t want to be left alone with Ginny? Harry glanced at his former girlfriend. A part of him did want to be left alone with her. A part of him still wanted to be snogging contentedly in a dark part of the castle. Harry felt the beast inside of his chest begin to growl and scratch. “Listen, Ginny, I’m glad to see you, but I have to finish putting on this Dueling Cream so that I can go and meet Hermione. She’s helping me train,” he added, when Ginny’s brows raised.

“Oh,” she said quietly and then appeared to be thinking of something. “Harry, do you think that’s such a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, rubbing Dueling Cream hastily into his calves.

“Well, only that, after what happened in Godric’s Hollow, with the gravestones,” Ginny paused, looking almost guilty for mentioning his parents’ graves.

“What about it?” Harry spoke softly. For some reason he didn’t like where the conversation was going.

Ginny had a very concerned look on her face. “One of the graves said ‘Hermione Granger’. Don’t you think that means that Hermione is in danger? The Deatheaters obviously know that she’s helping you.”

Harry stopped applying the Dueling Cream and sat quietly. Ginny was right, of course. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. The gravestones…Voldemort was targeting not only himself but Hermione too…

“Maybe you shouldn’t let her help you,” Ginny suggested. “For her own good.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Harry said sadly, and Ginny nodded her approval. She sat down beside him and leaned against him supportively.

“It’s for her own good, Harry,” she said with resolve. “And for my brother’s too. Can you imagine how upset Ron would be if she got hurt?”

*****************

Harry walked with heavy feet out to the empty Quidditch pitch, which was where he and Hermione were going to practice their hexes. Hermione and Ron were already there, and it took him what seemed like forever to reach them, he was walking so slowly. But he wouldn’t have minded if it had been longer. He didn’t know how to tell her what Ginny had said. And most of him didn’t want to.

“Harry, what’s the matter? Did you run out of Dueling Cream?”

“No, I’m just a bit tired, nothing serious.” Harry tried to smile. “Ron, what’re you doing here?”

“I was going to help you,” Ron said, looking offended. “Hermione said I could.”

Hermione was looking at him helplessly.

“I’m going to practice with you guys,” Ron continued. “Here, watch this. Voce Extricia!” He said, pointing his wand at Hermione.

Her eyes widened as her mouth began to work on its own. “Oh! Ron used my own spell on me and I can’t believe that he got it right! I’d never have thought that he’d get it right on his first try…Ron! We’re here to help Harry, not to mess around! I knew I shouldn’t have told him about that spell, I should have known he’d only play with it…and Harry seems upset about something, I hope he’s not angry with me for telling Ron that he could practice with us…But don’t be stupid, he wouldn’t be upset about that, it’s not as though he wants to be al- control your thoughts control your thoughts- VOCE INTRINSIA!” Hermione touched her wand to her lips and then to her forehead. Then she punched Ron in the arm. She was blushing furiously, and her lips were pressed tightly together, like she was trying to prevent any more words from escaping.

“Well, at least we know it works,” Ron laughed.

Harry tried to laugh too. But he couldn’t. He wanted Hermione to teach him Voce Extricia. He wanted her to help him with his hexes. And instead he had to tell her that she shouldn’t. Harry looked regretfully at Ron and thought about what Ginny had said in the Common Room, that Ron would be devastated if something happened to Hermione.

So would I, he thought to himself, but I still want her with me. He looked at Ron again and wished that he would go back into the castle.

“Harry,” Hermione said between clenched teeth. “I think we should work on a new defensive spell today, it’s something that I found in-”

“You can’t help me anymore.”

Hermione looked stunned.

“What I mean is,” Harry continued, intending to pour everything out in one long and final sentence, “Voldemort changed the graves to reflect your name as well as mine, which means he’s probably targeting you, and I can’t let you help me anymore because he knows you’re helping me, it’s putting you in danger, and if anything ever happened to you Ron would be crushed and I- I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.” Even to Harry, this sounded unconvincing. He looked at his friends. Ron seemed mortified, probably because Harry had mentioned his attachment to Hermione, but Hermione’s face, which Harry thought would be furious, was resolutely calm.

“I’m still going to help you, Harry.”

Harry blinked. “But Hermione- you can’t- I can’t keep letting you!”

“You’re just trying to be noble,” Hermione said simply. “It’s my choice. It’s our choice,” she added, glancing at Ron, who rubbed his punched arm. “It’s nice of you to try and protect us, but Harry, us, sitting on the sidelines while you go to fight a war? Really, it’s out of the question.”

Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had expected a flurry of shouting, maybe some tears, he had expected her to be upset; he hadn’t expected this cool, reasonable speech. She should yell at him, and stalk away, and accept it…this was so much easier with Ginny.

“Don’t you know what it would do to me,” Harry said, trying the same tactics on her that had worked with Ginny, “If you died, and it was my fault?” Harry’s senses were rocked as he thought of Hermione in a white tomb similar to Dumbledore’s, and for the first time felt that maybe Ginny was right after all. “I’d never get over it,” he said softly. “Never. And I can’t be thinking about that if I want to find these horcruxes and destroy Voldemort.” Hermione was shaking as Harry looked at her. “I’m not practicing today. Go back into the castle. I’m just going to take a walk by the lake.” He turned to leave, and then felt Hermione’s hand on his elbow.

“Harry listen, I’m- we’re not letting you do this alone!” Her voice was starting to lose its careful control.

“Why do you have to make this so difficult? Why do you have to argue? Can’t you make anything easy for me?” Harry spun on her.

Ron took a step back. “Hey, Hermione, maybe you should think about it for a bit…just think about it,” he added hastily, when she glared at him.

“There’s nothing to think about,” she said, lifting her head higher. “Look, I know that what you’d like to hear is that I just accept it. But I don’t. I’m going to help you, and I don’t care whether you want the help or not, you need it!”

“I don’t need it!” Harry half-shouted, exasperated. “So will you just lay off?!”

“No I will not!” Hermione blazed. Ron was watching her very closely, his mouth slightly open, but she didn’t notice. “If it was me, if it was me who had to fight, would you let me do it alone?”

Harry looked at her. There were tears standing in her eyes and he barely heard himself as he said, “No. I’d never let you go alone. I’d help you.” And Harry knew that it was true. He could never let her face something this big without him. And he really couldn’t imagine facing anything without her.

Hermione nodded and her whole body seemed to release as the tension floated out of her limbs. She looked as relieved as Harry felt. “Look, you’re right. It was- I was just trying to do the right thing. Ginny said-”

“This was Ginny’s idea?”

“Well, not her idea exactly, but she thought it might be better if you didn’t help me, for your own good-”

“Do you want her help instead?” Hermione asked rather shrilly.

“No! What? What are you talking about?” Harry sputtered, confused.

Hermione blushed. “Nothing…stupid,” she shook her head and looked determinedly out across the pitch. “Um…all right then. Shall we get to work?”

Harry nodded and drew his wand.

“I don’t think we should practice Voce Extricia today. Ron was kind enough to demonstrate it once already,” she muttered towards Ron, whose head snapped up. He had been staring rather thoughtfully at the ground. “So as I was saying before, there’s a new defensive spell that I found in Zan Malvoisin’s ‘Encyclopedia of Escapes.’ It goes something like this-” she walked out about twenty feet away from them and then looked back uncertainly. “I’m not exactly sure about the timing…Ron, would you try to jinx me please?”

“Well, okay,” Ron said, raising his wand. “But remember, you asked for it…Impedimenta!”

“Lateo!” Hermione shouted. Ron’s jinx went horribly off course, and Hermione disappeared.

“What?” Ron exclaimed. “Where’d she go? What happened to my jinx?”

Harry looked around. He hoped that the spell hadn’t gone wrong.

“I’m right behind you, Ron,” Hermione said happily, and the boys spun to see her standing behind them, with her arms crossed, looking as pleased as Crookshanks after a saucer of warm milk.

“Wow,” Harry said, impressed.

“What was that?” Ron asked.

“It’s Lateo,” Hermione explained. “See, what you do is, sweep your wand across your body, like this,” she moved her wand diagonally from her left shoulder to point towards her right toe. “You’re supposed to use it when there are multiple curses coming at you. It confuses them, makes them go all awry, and it also makes you invisible for a short period of time, so that you can escape, or at least make it to a place where you’re less vulnerable.”

“That’s terrific,” said Ron, amazed. He seemed to have forgotten whatever it was that had made him so thoughtful before. He moved his wand across his body. “Lateo!”

Nothing happened.

“It only works when there’s attacking magic nearby,” Hermione said.

“Oh,” Ron said sullenly, and then brightened. “Well, attack me then! I want to try it!”

Harry and Hermione both laughed, and then spent the better part of an hour hexing Ron until he managed to disappear and escape them.

***********

Harry and Ron ate ravenously in the Great Hall that evening, but Hermione only stuffed a sandwich into her mouth and said that she needed to go do more research in the library. Much to their relief, she didn’t ask for any help.

“That Lateo thing is really going to come in handy,” Ron said. He had managed to master it pretty well by the end of the session. In fact, they had all three advanced in their technique, and were able to cast a hex immediately upon reappearing, which added a useful offensive dimension to the spell.

“Mmmph,” Harry nodded, his mouth full of beef. He felt very satisfied. Today’s practice was much more gratifying than spending an hour being repeatedly hit by stinging hexes. He might not even need any Dueling Cream tomorrow.

“Can I talk to you, Harry?”

Harry looked up, and abruptly stopped chewing. Ginny was looking at him rather seriously.

“Oh um, sure,” Harry said, grabbing a bit of bread and exchanging a glance with Ron before getting up and following her out of the Great Hall. “What did you want to talk to me about?” He asked her, once they were alone in a quiet corridor.

“You didn’t tell her, did you,” she said quietly.

“Who?” Harry asked, even though he knew perfectly well who she was talking about.

“Hermione. You didn’t tell her that she shouldn’t help you anymore.” Ginny had her arms crossed and was looking very stern.

“No, I did,” Harry said truthfully. “It’s just that…well…she wouldn’t listen, exactly.”

Ginny made a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a heavy sigh. “She can’t listen, can she, not when it comes to butting out!”

“Ginny-what do you mean - butting out…”

“Why should she get to help you when I can’t? Why is it okay for her?” Ginny was starting to pace back and forth. “I’m helping you too, Harry, and that’s the end of it! You don’t get to push me away, and then keep her!”

Harry had no idea why she was so upset. “But you can’t, you can’t help me- I meant what I said at Dumbledore’s funeral.”

“Hermione’s in danger too. Even more than me! He didn’t change the grave to read ‘Ginny Weasley’!”

“Listen,” Harry said desperately. “It’s different with Hermione; I need her.” Ginny’s eyes opened very wide, and she turned and stalked away. Harry began to sputter, “Ginny! Wait! That’s not what I- I didn’t mean that I don’t need you-I-” But she was gone. And that was probably for the best, Harry realized. Because he didn’t know how to make her understand why he needed Hermione, when he didn’t really understand it himself.

**************************************

AN: Okay, I know the little “Dueling Cream Fight” sequence was a little fluffy for a fic that’s supposed to be following JKR’s style. I don’t think JKR really writes much fluff into the books, because the HP series is not a romance series…but this is a romance fic, so I’m going to do it anyway. If you’d rather I didn’t, let me know and change my mind. I’ll probably listen to you, since you are, after all, quite excellent.

The review replies might be a bit slow this week, and I don’t know if the update will make it out next week…I’ll be on a job in California and probably won’t have much time…but I’m going to try!

Okay, next chapter we’ll probably see a horcrux quest, or something related to it, and the struggle for influence over Harry begins between Ginny and Hermione. Also, towards the end, there might be some major Ron/Hermione stuff. Sorry guys. You know it’s got to be in there. On the bright side, I’m pretty sure it will bother Harry almost as much as it bothers you. Almost.