Here at the End

1. Chapter One: The Trees by the Lake

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter One: The Trees by the Lake

Disclaimer: I think you all know that the world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

And by the way, I really really wanted to write ‘Harry Potter and the Ginormous Catfight’, but this is for the Felix Felicis competition, so, oh fine.

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

The grounds of Hogwarts had seldom been so quiet, even in summer. The students were gone, and so too were many of the staff. Few saw a point in hanging about when there was little chance of the school reopening in the fall. All that remained were a handful of witches and wizards, plus one Squib, a nasty cat, and some old ghosts.

And of course the giant squid. And some centaurs in the forest. And the mermen. And, then there was a half-giant, drunk and snoring in the pumpkin patch.

But all of these things were still. The mermen and the squid were slumbering at the bottom of the lake, and even the centaurs had gone to bed. The castle was completely dark. Nothing in the night moved. Nothing at all.

Except for one tiny little star, zipping and swooping through the sky, which if you looked closer you would realize is actually a hippogriff. A hippogriff with one too many names. A hippogriff with a past. And on his back was a tiny rider. With distinctly fuzzy hair.

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

Harry Potter was taking one last look at Privet Drive. Today was his birthday. Not that that was important. His birthday had gone virtually unnoticed for the whole of his life. But this one was special. He was seventeen. An adult. And that meant that whatever protection Dumbledore had left him at the Dursleys’ was gone. So there was no point in hanging around.

He was standing in the kitchen helping his aunt prepare breakfast when he realized that he was leaving, and that he would probably never be coming back. He looked at his aunt with no particular feeling. He looked at his uncle, and his cousin Dudley, sitting at the table, their fat pink faces smeared with butter from their toast, and grimaced.

“I’m leaving today, Aunt Petunia,” Harry announced suddenly.

“The bloody hell you are,” Uncle Vernon snorted. “You’ve got a lawn to mow.”

“Look, I’m leaving,” Harry continued, ignoring him. “And I suppose I should say, well, not thank you exactly, because you’ve all been really quite awful, but you did let me live here, and that’s probably kept me alive, and I do enjoy the being alive part, so-”

“Where will you go?”

Harry stopped rambling and turned to his aunt, surprised to hear the tone in her voice, and the look on her face. He blinked for a moment. He really didn’t know. He could’ve stayed a week and then gone to the Burrow. But then he had gotten an owl from Ron saying that the house was in an uproar over the wedding and if he didn’t want to be annoyed, worked like a dog, and positively covered with Phlegm (though Harry really thought that Ron wanted all of the Phlegm to himself), that he should stay away until the nuptials. And the more he had thought about it, the more he had agreed. As much as he wanted to see Ron was as much as he didn’t want to see Ginny, he couldn’t imagine how things would be between them now that…now that they had parted. Would they go back to normal? Would they be extremely embarrassed? Or would one look at her break his resolve and bring them back together?

He thought about all of them, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, all getting ready for the wedding, cleaning, decorating, organizing, or rather, being organized by Mrs. Weasley, and wished that he could feel right about being there. But he couldn’t. As much as he needed to be happy, to be distracted, he had things to do. Things that Dumbledore had left him to do. And he would never let him down. Not ever again.

“Harry? Where are you going?” Petunia asked.

“And will we never see you again?” Vernon barked hopefully.

“I’m going back to Hogwarts,” Harry answered, and the moment it left his lips he knew it was true. It was, after all, the only real home he had ever known. “And I’m going to go to Godric’s Hollow,” he added, looking squarely at his aunt. “To visit my parents.” Behind him, he heard Vernon grunt dismissively, and had to try very hard to resist using Levicorpus.

Petunia was acting very strangely. She was mumbling something about Harry’s needing a sandwich, and pacing back and forth through the kitchen, wringing her hands.

As he watched her, it occurred to Harry to ask a question that he’d never thought of asking before. “She was your sister,” he said suddenly, and Petunia ceased pacing and stood staring at the floor. “Did she love you?”

“What the bloody kind of question is that?” Uncle Vernon demanded, crumbs of toast flying from his mustache.

Harry gave his uncle a glance that said, my wand’s in my pocket, and if you’re very quiet, it will stay that way. He turned back to his aunt, who looked up at him.

“Yes, Harry,” she said, looking as though she might actually convey a decent emotion. “Yes, she did. And I- I-”

Harry sighed and smiled at her, just a little bit. “I won’t be needing that sandwich, Aunt Petunia.” He took one last look around the kitchen, and was unable to conjure up one single, happy memory. Well, except maybe for that time he blew up Aunt Marge.

“Er, goodbye,” he said, and then Apparated the heck out of there.

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

After that squeezed through a bottle feeling that he wasn’t quite used to, Harry opened his eyes on Hogsmeade. It was quiet. It didn’t feel normal. And he knew that it would be exactly the same at the school. He looked at the Three Broomsticks sadly. He could really use a butterbeer, but Madam Rosmerta was probably still at St. Mungo’s being de-Imperialized, and besides, he wasn’t really sure if he could stand to see her yet, or if it would make him think too vividly of those last moments with Dumbledore. Of the look on his face when he saw the Dark Mark in the sky over his school. Harry shook the image out of his head and started walking.

It seemed only seconds before he was staring at the passageway to Dumbledore’s office. He kept staring at it, like maybe if he just stared hard enough, or stood there long enough, he could will Dumbledore to be inside.

“The password is ‘chocolate whip’.”

Harry turned his head to see Professor McGonagall, Headmistress McGonagall, he supposed, standing behind him. He heard a soft grinding as the passageway opened.

“Hello Headmistress,” he said, and she winced like she’d rather he hadn’t said it. “Chocolate whip?”

“As long as I am here, Potter, the password will always be food,” she smiled, and led him up the stone steps.

***

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” Harry said to her once they were inside the office. He was standing in front of her desk, trying very hard to ignore the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, which still looked freshly painted, and which was also smiling down at him serenely. He supposed that it should make him feel glad, like some part of Dumbledore was still with him, but it didn’t. It only reminded him that he would never again be out of that portrait.

“I’m not, actually,” the headmistress answered. “I can only assume that you’ve returned here because Hogwarts is your home. And because the enchantment that-” she hesitated to say Dumbledore’s name, “that was placed on you has expired. You are very smart to come here Harry, and to train while under the protection of the school.”

“Er, yes, thank you,” he said, having not really thought of training at all. But she was right. Where else could he find such resources? Where better to prepare? He was becoming more and more glad that he came. “So is it all right if I stay here until the school reopens?”

They looked at each other quietly for a moment, knowing that the school might never reopen.

“Of course. The Gryffindor boys’ dormitory is at your disposal. As are all of the school’s resources.” She peered at him through her glasses. “All of the usual school year rules still apply.”

“Right.” Harry smiled. “Well, thank you.” As he stood, she stood with him, and he saw her glance up at Dumbledore’s portrait. They left the office together, neither one wanting to be left alone with it.

***

After listening to the echo of his own footsteps ring through the empty corridors for awhile, Harry ventured outside. The sun was very warm and bright, and he wanted to see Hagrid, whom he knew must have taken Dumbledore’s death particularly hard.

He walked down the path and up to Hagrid’s hut, and was just about to knock on the door, when it opened.

“Harry!”

Harry blinked. “Hermione!”

“What’re you doing here?!” they demanded together.

“I came to see Hagrid,” Harry said. “Have you been here the whole summer?”

“No, I-” Hermione began, and then put her finger to her lips as she came out and closed the door behind her. “Hagrid’s sleeping.” She gripped his wrist and led him away towards the pumpkin patch.

“In the middle of the day?”

“He’s taking it very hard, Harry.”

“Oh. Right.” Harry kicked his feet in the dirt.

“I’m glad to see you,” she said, smiling at him.

“Me too. Glad to see you, I mean. So, have you been here the whole summer?”

Hermione kept glancing nervously back at the hut, like their talking might wake Hagrid, even though they could hear the sawing of his snores quite clearly.

“Let’s take a walk,” she suggested.

***

“Have you been having to feed Buckbeak?” Harry asked her, brushing at some downy gray feathers that were stuck to the sleeve of her shirt.

“What? Oh, yes,” she said quickly, shaking them off.

“He saved me, you know,” Harry said. “From Snape. The night that- the night of the attack, he charged in out of nowhere, nearly pummeled the stuffing out of him.”

“Oh? Did he?” Hermione said, sounding almost bored, almost like she already knew.

“So how long have you been here?”

She shrugged. “Only a few days. I couldn’t stay with my parents any longer. They’re trying, but they don’t understand. And I don’t feel like I can tell them everything, either, like if they knew, they’d flip out and put me in some kind of Muggle protection program. And I thought of the Burrow, but then Ron owled me and-”

“Phlegm?”

Hermione smiled. “He says there’s a lot of it going around.”

“He must be thrilled.” Harry smirked, and she giggled, and then quieted. “So you came to Hogwarts instead?”

“Yes, it was the only thing I could think of to do…and I thought that I should…for Hagrid…I wasn’t really there for him this year, what with dropping Care of Magical Creatures, and then with Aragog’s funeral, and now,” she sighed. “He really needs someone. Poor Buckbeak looked half starved when I got here. And Hagrid was drunk, he just kept saying ‘great man, Dumbledore’, over and over.”

Harry did his best to look serious. He was truly concerned about Hagrid, but he’d never heard Hermione do her Hagrid-impression, and it was quite good.

Beside him, Hermione made a sheepish face. “I didn’t get you anything for your birthday, Harry,” she whispered, looking very regretful. “I tried, but everything- everything I looked at seemed stupid!”

“It’s okay, Hermione,” he said, frankly just pleased that she was here, and that she had remembered his birthday at all. So few people did.

“It’s not!”

“Yes it is. I don’t have much use for presents right now anyway. And I’m really glad that you’re here. That can be my present.”

“It can?” she said, brightening.

“Sure.”

She lowered her head. “I promise to get you something better, later.”

Harry sighed. They had walked down to the lake, down by the trees, and he could see the giant squid rolling lazily in the water.

“This place reminds me of Ginny,” he said quietly.

By his side, it was a long time before Hermione said, “The lake, and the trees….they make you think of Ginny?”

Harry nodded. “We used to walk here, and sit on those rocks, and…other things.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, sounding very distracted.

Harry looked around at the leaves, and thought of the way Ginny’s hair looked when the breeze off of the lake caught it. He sighed again.

“Like you’ve never walked here with anyone else,” Hermione said, rather shrilly.

“What?”

“Nothing. Harry, how did you get to Hogwarts?”

“I Apparated into Hogsmeade.”

“You Apparated without a license? You haven’t taken your test yet have you?”

Harry groaned. “Hermione, aren’t you ever going to let me break the rules?”

“It’s not likely,” she snapped, walking faster, glancing around at the trees like they were all Whomping Willows.

“Bill and Fleur’s wedding is next week,” Harry said, trying to keep up with her, and to change the subject. “Maybe we should go to the Burrow a little early and see if we can help out.”

“You want to see Ginny?” Hermione stopped walking.

“I don’t know,” Harry said truthfully. Well, not exactly truthfully. He did want to see her. He just didn’t know if he should. Hermione was looking at him very sympathetically, and he wanted to confide in her. “I broke up with her, because with me she’d be in danger. Voldemort would use her to get to me.”

“That’s the only reason?” Hermione whispered.

“Well, that and the fact that I have four horcruxes to find and a dark wizard to kill and I don’t imagine that’ll leave me much time for snogging.” He thought of kissing Ginny under the trees, and sighed again. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

Hermione looked down, like she didn’t want to tell him something. “I can’t tell you whether or not you were right, Harry.”

“Why not? You always could before!” But Harry could tell that she wouldn’t budge. “Well anyway, I know we have to go to the wedding, but I don’t know what’s going to happen, I mean, it’s obvious that we still like each other- is she going to expect me to be her date? Just as friends? I don’t know-”

“Look Harry,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “Ginny and Ron are both in the wedding party. They’ll be busy most of the time; I’m sure they won’t even need dates. So I guess you’ll just have to sit with me.”

Harry looked at Hermione, but she was staring straight ahead. They only had a day or two before they should depart for the Burrow. He hoped that it was enough time for him to think of something to say to Ginny that didn’t sound awkward or stupid.

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

Author’s Note: This fic is dedicated to all of you theorists out there. You know who you are. You’re the ones who research the significance of hippogriffs and the histories of love potions. You’re the ones who analyze every loaded sentence, and every loaded silence. Don’t stop. Because whether or not those theories bear fruit, the evidence is THERE, and it’s brilliant and loads of fun. You didn’t just pull that stuff out of your butts, and I refuse to believe that JKR put it in there just to be a turd. So here’s to you, my feeble attempt at thanks, for your meticulous investigation. Bravo. You didn’t just read between the lines, you crawled between them and built a scale model of Buckingham Palace out of Linkin Logs. Good show.

Next time we’ll see Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and we’ll see how Ginny reacts to Harry and Hermione showing up together. And I know, the Harry mooning over Ginny stuff is gross. But come on, I’m trying to be realistic.

2. Chapter Two: I Take Thee, Phlegm

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Two: I Take Thee, Phlegm

Disclaimer: Do I have to do a new one of these every time?

Also, due to the surprising popularity of ‘Harry Potter and the Ginormous Catfight’, I’ve decided to include a mini ‘ginormous catfight’ later in this fic. Who knew that people wanted to see Ginny get her butt kicked so bad?

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

“Hermione? Are you ready?” Harry was knocking on the door to Hagrid’s hut. Hermione had insisted on going down to make certain that the half-giant was all right before they left for the Burrow. He didn’t know why. These days, when Hagrid wasn’t drunk he was sleeping, and as he stood outside the door, Harry could hear some very distinctive snores issuing from inside. The door creaked open.

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione whispered, glancing back over her shoulder. “But come in and sign something before we go.”

Harry followed her inside and bent down to read the piece of parchment laid out on the wooden table. It read:

Dear Hagrid,

Harry and I have to go to the Burrow a few days early to help out with the wedding. I’ve left plenty of extra treacle fudge, a pumpkin pie, and four puddings, if you get hungry. There’s also a large store of COFFEE.

We hope to see you at the wedding, we know that all of the Weasleys would love it if you came.

Signed,

And Hermione

P.S., Don’t forget to feed Buckbeak.

“You see,” she said, tapping the parchment. “I’ve left a place for you to sign.”

“Sure,” said Harry, feeling a little bit guilty that he hadn’t thought of doing more to help Hagrid. He looked down at Hermione’s sleeve and saw more grey feathers stuck to it. “You know, I can feed him now. You don’t have to.”

“No, I- I don’t mind. Really, I can’t get enough of those dead ferrets.”

Harry watched her curiously as she weighted the parchment down with a large piece of treacle fudge. It was no secret that she had never been particularly comfortable around hippogriffs. Or any large, four-legged animals for that matter.

“Don’t you think you left enough sweets?” Harry asked.

Hermione frowned. “Since-” she paused. “It’s all he’ll eat.”

“He’s going to outgrow his hut.”

Hermione made a face that was close to a smirk. “Oh Harry,” she said and pulled him out the door.

They were going to Apparate out of Hogsmeade.

“You know, we could have always traveled by floo powder,” Hermione mused.

“But Apparation is so much cooler. And less messy,” Harry stated.

“Yes, I suppose so.” Hermione gave a thoughtful pause. “Are you nervous about seeing Ginny?”

Harry looked down at the ground. “I’m mostly hoping that the Burrow is so busy that we don’t have time to say two words to each other.”

Hermione smiled. “Well, stay close to Mrs. Weasley. I’m sure she’ll manage to keep you occupied.” She stopped walking. They were on the entrance road to the village. “Are you ready?”

Harry nodded, and Hermione grabbed his hand. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t have a license yet! Don’t tell me you thought I was just going to let you go Apparating willy nilly all over the place with no license!”

Harry groaned.

“Harry we could get in serious trouble. It’s side-along or floo powder, all right?”

“All right, Hermione,” Harry sulked.

“Good, now if you’ll just take my hand-”

But Harry had other ideas. Before she could finish her sentence, he grabbed the whole bit of her, and pressed her to his side.

“Harry!” she squealed, but she was too late. He triple D’d, and they were sucked through a bottle en route to the Burrow.

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

“You were completely right about that side-along Apparition, Hermione,” Harry chuckled after they had regained their bearings. She gave him a very disdainful look.

“That was extremely irresponsible! What if I had let go of my suitcase? What if I had pulled free of you? Half of me might have been left back in Hogsmeade!” She was very worked up, and was giving him little punches in the arm, almost unconsciously. Harry laughed.

“It wasn’t that bad! Aren’t you impressed with my skills of Apparition? Come on, we’ll Apparate into the house together. Side-along now,” he said, laughing harder as he reached for her amidst a flurry of blows from her little fists.

“Harry,” she shrieked, and now she was laughing too, “We’re only twenty feet from the door!”

“What’s with all this racket?”

Harry and Hermione abruptly stopped wrestling. Standing in the open doorway, was Ron, and peeking out from behind him, was Ginny.

“Oh, hi Ron,” Harry said, waving. “Hi Ginny.”

Ron and Ginny walked down the path to greet them. “Hi Harry,” Ginny said softly, and he thought that she looked a little sad. He glanced away, trying to find anything to look at besides her eyes. Beside him, Hermione was very flushed, probably at seeing Ron again, he supposed.

“Well, where have you two come from?” Ron asked, a little suspiciously. “I thought you were still at your Aunt and Uncle’s.”

“I was,” Harry said, and then told them both of how he had decided to go back to Hogwarts, and how he had found Hermione there.

“So you came together,” Ginny said carefully, looking first at Harry and then at Hermione.

“Well sure. We were both at Hogwarts, weren’t we?”

“Of course. And you Apparated here, Harry, I knew you’d be good at it.”

Harry felt a blush rising into his cheeks. “Er, I’m not too bad, I guess. That’s what Hermione and I were fighting about. She doesn’t want me to go Apparating around without a license.”

“The last thing you need is more trouble from the Ministry, Harry,” Hermione scolded, and Ginny and Harry exchanged looks.

“Some things never change, I guess,” Ginny smirked.

Harry smiled, but Hermione said briskly, “I’m going to go and see if Mrs. Weasley needs any help.” She started off towards the house, and then, almost as an afterthought said, “Ron, do you want to come with me?”

“Maybe we should go too,” Harry said. “That’s why we’re here early, after all.” Together the four of them walked into the house, Hermione leading the way and walking very fast. Harry couldn’t be sure, but he thought that he saw Ginny’s face fall when he said that he was only here early to help with the wedding. He smiled. Even though he knew they couldn’t be together, it made him feel good to know that he wasn’t the only one who regretted it.

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

The two days before the wedding passed so quickly and exhaustingly that Harry could scarcely believe it. Hermione and Ginny were being kept busy with the flowers, cutting and arranging them, and then soaking them in Rejuvenating Solution, to ensure that they stayed fresh throughout the ceremony. Harry spent most of the time in the yard and garden with Ron, Fred, and George. As it happened, the gnomes were extremely attracted to the solution soaked flowers, and had to be expelled almost on the hour, until Fred had the brilliant idea of building a ‘gnome moat’ filled with gnome repellent, all around the ceremony grounds and the house. Bill was scarcely seen, always off having a cigar or two with Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley was monitoring everyone’s progress, and making the final arrangements for the food and the music. Fleur was continually skipping across the lawn or through the house, smiling at everyone, and saying “Oh, it will be just perfect! It will be ze most wonderful day of our lives! I am so ‘appy!” And everyone wanted to slap her.

*********

The day of the wedding, Harry smoothed out his dress robes, and looked in the mirror. Downstairs, he could hear the rest of the Burrow moving around. Once or twice he could hear Molly roar out something like, “Get a move on, you lunkheads!” and assumed that Fred and George were up.

Harry had lingered in Ron’s room well past breakfast, wanting to stay out of the way. Everything was in place, and today he was just a guest. Ron had risen and dressed hours earlier, in much nicer dress robes than he had worn to the Yule Ball three years earlier, mumbled something like, “bloody marriage, rather be puking slugs than go through this again,” and then trudged downstairs to join the fray.

When it seemed like things were about to get started (Harry could hear the first of the guests arriving to the loud and joyous exclamations of Mrs. Weasley), he opened the door.

“Hermione!”

“Harry!” she said, surprised. He had almost run into her. He couldn’t help noticing that she looked very nice in her pale blue dress robes. Her hair was swept up onto the top of her head, with very pretty curls hanging down and little flowers laced through the plaits.

“Er, were you going down?”

“Yes, I was coming to get you. You’re supposed to be my date, remember?”

“Oh, right,” Harry smiled. Although when he had agreed to go with her, he hadn’t counted on her looking so pretty. He gallantly held out his arm. “Shall we?”

Hermione giggled. “Thank you, sir. You look very nice in your robes, Harry.”

“Er, thanks,” Harry swallowed, and wondered why it was so hard to talk all of a sudden. “You, um, you look really nice too.”

“I do?”

“Yes,” he said, and paused to look at her. She was smiling at him softly and he noticed the way she was biting her lower lip. “You look really, really nice.”

“Harry! Hermione!”

They looked away from each other quickly, and Harry pulled his arm away and stepped back.

“Are you guys coming down? They’re going to start seating people.”

Harry was speechless. Ginny looked fantastic. He couldn’t stop looking at her in her green bridesmaid’s dress, with her flaming red hair curling on her shoulders. He vaguely heard Hermione say that yes, they were coming, but he couldn’t say anything. He could barely nod.

He snapped out of his frozen state when Hermione pushed roughly past him, saying very loudly that she’d meet him downstairs. She stormed past Ginny without a word.

“What was that about?” Ginny said.

“I have no idea,” Harry said honestly.

**********

The ceremony was lovely. The turnout was good too, even with a war on. Tonks and Lupin had turned up, and so had most of the Hogwarts staff. Even Mad-Eye Moody made an appearance, his wonky magic eye flaring at the sight of Fleur in her pristine white gown.

Throughout the vows, Harry tried desperately to keep from stealing glances at Ginny, all to no avail. Once or twice she caught him, and blushed, causing Harry to clear his throat with embarrassment. Hermione was sitting beside him, but she didn’t say a thing. In fact, she hadn’t talked to him at all since this morning in the stairway. She just sat, stone-faced, her hands linked together in her lap.

At the reception, which was held in the garden, Fleur wrapped Harry in a hug and kiss. “Oh ‘Arry, zank you so much for coming! It was so beautiful, no? My gown is perfect, yes?”

“Erm, yes,” Harry said sheepishly.

“And ‘Ermioneee, zank you for the ‘elp with ze flowers! Zey are perfect, no?”

“Yes, perfect Fleur, everything was perfect,” Hermione smiled, and hugged Bill, who looked much better since the attack. The scars were quickly fading from an angry red to a pearly pink.

Harry was watching Ginny, who was talking animatedly to some older people, who, because of their faded red hair, he assumed to be relations.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione exclaimed. “It’s Hagrid! He came!” She was pointing excitedly to the gate, which Hagrid was currently trying to fit through.

“What?” Harry said, distracted by Ginny’s hair, blowing in the breeze.

Hermione sighed. “I don’t know why you just don’t go over there.”

Harry thought she sounded a little annoyed, so he said, “No, you’re right, we should go say hi to Hagrid, make sure he’s been feeding Buckbeak.”

“You mean ‘Witherwings’. There are people from the Ministry here, Harry.”

Harry glanced around suspiciously at the faces of the guests. Hermione always thought of everything.

“Hermione! Harry!” Hagrid boomed, having made his way through the gate (with minimal cracking of the wood).

“Hello Hagrid,” they said together. “How are you? We’re so glad you could make it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’ta missed this for the world,” the half-giant said, seeming much better, and not drunk at all. “And I have to thank you two, especially you, Hermione, for looking after me and Bu-Witherwings the way you did.”

“It was the least I could do Hagrid. Haven’t you always looked out for us?” Hermione smiled, and then exchanged a look with Harry. Although Hagrid was always doing his best to help them, he had gotten them into an equal measure of sticky situations. The incident with Grawp sprang immediately to mind.

“Anyways, I had to come over and thank ye,” Hagrid said, smoothing the lapels on his enormous jacket. “Now if ye’ll excuse me, I promised someone a dance.”

Harry looked over his shoulder, and saw Madame Maxime blushing a short distance away, her head up over all of the other guests. “Sure Hagrid. Have fun.”

Harry and Hermione watched him go, and then turned to each other as the music played. He supposed they should dance, and he knew that she probably wouldn’t turn him down, but for some reason he still felt nervous asking her. “Hermione-”

“Yes?”

“Do you-”

“Hey, Harry, that was some ceremony eh? I thought I was going to pass out from boredom standing up there for so long.” Ron walked up, a happy grin on his face, and Harry could tell that he really was happy for his brother. “But at least the gnome-moat seems to be holding. I haven’t seen a single one of those little buggers.”

“Nope. Fred is a real genius.”

“I wouldn’t say genius. He’s a real something though.” Ron said, and then looked a little pale. “You know, my little sister could use a dance. She’s been fending off Angus McFadden for the last half hour.”

“I don’t know if I should,” Harry said, looking over to where Ginny was, and she did look very uncomfortable talking to a rather short boy with blond hair. As he continued to watch, he could vaguely hear Hermione scolding Ron about something.

“Oh come off it Hermione,” Ron was saying when Harry tuned back in. “I was coming over here to ask you to dance, but if you’re going to be like that-”

Harry smiled. “Just go,” he said to her. “I’ll be okay.”

Hermione glanced over at Ginny before nodding and following Ron to the dance floor.

Harry spent a few minutes watching them, Hermione looked very uncomfortable as Ron kept stepping on her toes, and lingering by the punch bowl, being uncomfortable himself. He couldn’t decide whether or not he should go and talk to Ginny. It seemed false not to, but then again, if he did- and then he glanced up at her, and she was tossing her hair over her shoulder. The lovely sight of it made Harry make up his mind. He stalked onto the dance floor.

“Ron, I need to cut in.”

“What?”

“I need to dance with Hermione,” Harry said, almost desperately.

“Well, I don’t know why you can’t wait for the next song,” Ron said sulkily. “And what about Ginny? She’s still being cornered by McFadden.”

“I’m sure she can handle it,” Hermione said, pulling out of Ron’s grasp. “What’s going on Harry? What’s happening?”

Ron was still put out. “I don’t know why you need to-”

“Listen, Ron,” Harry said quickly. “I know you don’t, but I need her. Just be a friend, okay? I need her.” And then he slipped into Ron’s space and swept Hermione away in a waltz.

“All right, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “What did you need me for? What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Then what?” Hermione asked. “And why do you keep glancing at Ginny?”

“What are you talking about?”

Hermione abruptly stopped dancing. “You keep glancing at her. You’re not trying to use me to make her jealous, are you?” Hermione’s lip was beginning to tremble.

“No!” Harry exclaimed, although, he supposed that what he had been doing was using Hermione to distract himself from Ginny, and from the look on Hermione’s face, that explanation wouldn’t be too much better. “I- I just need to talk to you. About what I’m going to do.” He could see Hermione drop her guard, but not completely.

“If that’s true Harry,” she said. “Then we should go somewhere and talk. We shouldn’t be out here on the dance floor to be seen and overheard.”

“Okay,” Harry said, relieved, and she led him out of the garden and across the gnome moat, out into a field.

*********

“I was thinking of leaving here after the wedding to go to Godric’s Hollow,” Harry said, trying to talk quietly. He doubted that anyone could overhear, but he couldn’t be sure, because Hermione had scowled when he had suggested using Muffliato.

“And?” Hermione said, her face filling with concern.

“And, I don’t know how to feel about seeing my parents. About seeing their graves, and the place that they-” Harry stopped.

“Were murdered by Voldemort,” Hermione said boldly. “Of course you don’t know how to feel. I can’t even imagine what that must be like, Harry.”

“I almost feel like I should go alone, but I’m scared to.”

“And it’s out of the question. Ron and I already said we’d be there with you. And we will be. If you want to go inside and pack now we can be ready.”

Harry’s heart felt very big, just as it always did when he realized how loyal his friends were. “I don’t know what I intend to do there. Maybe just think. Maybe just tell them, tell them that I intend to fight….that I won’t let them down.”

“You could never let them down, Harry,” Hermione said softly, and reached out to touch his shoulder.

“You’re going back to Godric’s Hollow?!”

Harry looked up in surprise to see Ginny.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione asked, and Ginny looked at her sharply.

“What do you mean? This is my house!” Ginny said, rather defensively, walking up to Harry, but Harry knew what Hermione meant. They rarely discussed serious issues in the presence of anyone but themselves, and Ron. Later he’d try to explain that to Ginny, so she wouldn’t be angry with her.

“I want to come with you,” Ginny said loudly.

“Your mother would never let you,” Harry said, and to his surprise, Ginny threw her arms around his neck.

“I know,” Ginny said shrilly. “But you can’t go alone!”

“I’ll be with him,” Hermione said, and Harry felt Ginny’s arms tighten.

Ginny pulled away to look at Hermione over her shoulder. “Well, that’s good at least. He’ll be glad to have his friends there. But I know he’d rather have me there too, wouldn’t you?”

“Er, of course I would,” Harry stammered. Ginny was looking deeply into his eyes. “I’m, I’m leaving right away,” he added, hoping that she might hug him again.

“Promise to be careful,” Ginny said, and then paused. “Harry, I know we’re not together any more. I know we’re not a couple. But I also know that there’s only one reason why we’re not, and I’d really, really like to kiss you right now,” she whispered, but even though she was whispering, Harry was sure that Hermione could hear her very plainly. He looked into Ginny’s eyes.

“I know,” he said. “And I would too. But we shouldn’t.” And he pulled out of her grasp, looking away from her, towards Hermione, who was looking away from him, and who, for some reason, had turned very pale.

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

A/N: All right, I imagine that chapter was mostly frustrating. I know it was frustrating for me. Could that little brat interrupt any more? We are SO building up for a catfight. At least a mini catfight. I’m trying to stay true to the series, so I don’t think there can be a ginormous one, but there will definitely be something going down! Next time, we’ll be at Godric’s Hollow.

And for those of you who requested longer chapters….how was this for you? Long enough? Too long?

Also, maybe I’m turning into a theorist myself, but did anyone else notice how jealous Ron was when Harry and Hermione were alone together in HBP? I’ve only read it once and that still jumped out. Anyways, I’ll leave that to the forums. GO THEORISTS!

3. Chapter Three: Give Him Something to Fear

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Three: Give Him Something To Fear

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter I’d be really, really, ridiculously rich. I’m not. And it sucks.

Hmm, can anyone tell that I like that People=Pets theory?

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

The night of the wedding, after Bill and Fleur had left for their honeymoon and all of the guests had departed, Harry was sitting silently in the Weasley’s living room watching Ginny play with Arnold, her pygmy puff, who, in Harry’s opinion, was very cute and cuddly but other than that didn’t have much going for him. The little furball would roll around in Ginny’s hands, occasionally nipping her fingers, and showing off his one trick, which was puffing himself up. It was cute for awhile, but a pet like that really made Harry grateful for Hedwig, whom he had left at Hogwarts.

In his lap, Harry felt Crookshanks give a faint growl. Crookshanks was very cranky; he had been driven from the room that Hermione shared with Ginny by her rampant packing. Hermione had insisted that they travel to Godric’s Hollow by Muggle train, and they were leaving for King’s Cross that same night.

Harry was still feeling confused about going to Godric’s Hollow. At his feet, Ginny was being very quiet. She had asked him one or two tentative questions, and then stopped, unable to think of what else to say. But it was all right. He’d have plenty of time on the train to discuss it with Hermione and Ron.

Behind him, he could hear Hermione coming down the stairs, dragging her trunk. He was going to get up and help her when he heard Ron say, “Levicorpus!”

Harry jumped to his feet and saw Hermione floating above the stairwell, upside down, using both hands to hold her skirt in place.

“Don’t you dare use that infernal spell on me!” Hermione shrieked, while trying to reach her wand with her teeth.

“Ron,” Harry shouted, “that’s the wrong spell!”

“Well I bloody know that now!” Ron shouted back, horrified. “I was just trying to help her carry her stupid trunk! What do I do?”

“Liberacorpus!” Harry called out, and then, realizing his mistake, made a dive for the stairs to catch Hermione as she fell. “Are you all right?” he asked. “I didn’t mean to just drop you.”

Hermione was seething at Ron, but when she spoke to Harry her voice was calm. “I’m fine, Harry. Thank you for getting me down.” She straightened her clothes as he helped her to her feet. “You can’t wear those robes to King’s Cross, you know,” she said to Ron in her most Hermione-ish voice. “And we’re traveling as Muggles. I hope that you’ve packed accordingly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron sulked, tugging at his dress robe collar. “Look, I said I was sorry about the spell-”

Hermione put her nose in the air and drew her wand, giving it a swish and flick. “Wingardium Leviosa,” she said distinctly, and her suitcase rose gracefully into the air and followed her the rest of the way down the stairs.

Harry smiled after her, admiring her spell craft as always. But his smile faded when he looked at Ginny, who was watching Hermione leave with an unpleasant look on her face.

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

“Where are you going after Godric’s Hollow?”

“I don’t know. We’ll probably just go back to Hogwarts and wait for term to begin,” Harry said thoughtfully. “If it begins, that is.”

“Dad and Mum say that they think it will. They don’t think that Professor McGonagall and the others will let Hogwarts close.” Ginny was standing very close; they were outside under the stars, waiting for Hermione and Ron to come out so they could leave for the train station. “I’m going to go back, whether it opens or not,” she said fiercely.

“You can’t,” Harry said sadly.

“What do you mean I can’t?”

She was looking very much like Molly Weasley at the moment, and Harry backpedaled, stuttering, “Well, er, of course you should come back to school…if it reopens…but if it doesn’t…”

“What? I should stay away from you? Is that what you mean?” Her voice was becoming very high.

“Ginny, I thought you understood me. What I said at Dumbledore’s funeral, and why I said it-”

“Well I did!” she exclaimed. “I mean, I do, but-” She stopped short, because a very familiar bickering could be heard behind them, and that meant that Ron and Hermione were coming.

“Well, are you ready?” Hermione asked brightly, and Harry couldn’t help noticing that Ginny was looking at her very strangely. For some reason, it reminded him of Cho Chang, though the two looked nothing alike.

Harry nodded, and Ron said, “Yeah,” very sulkily, having re-packed and changed out of his robes and into blue jeans.

Hermione bit her lip nervously. “I don’t know if I can side-along you both into King’s Cross,” she said.

“Side-along nothing!” Ron snapped. “I passed my test last month!”

“Oh,” Hermione said, sounding a little too surprised to be flattering. “Well…that’s terrific Ron. Then you can go by yourself, and Harry and I will be right behind you.”

“Oh for pity’s sake Hermione,” Ginny groaned. “Harry can Apparate just fine. Why don’t you butt out and let him do it on his own?”

Hermione’s brow clouded. “Because he doesn’t have a license,” she said simply, as though this would explain everything and put the matter to rest.

Harry looked nervously from one girl to the other. They were staring very directly into each other’s eyes, neither one giving ground. Ginny was beginning to glare and Hermione was starting to look simply furious.

“Erm, maybe we should just floo into Diagon Alley and then walk to King’s Cross,” he suggested.

“Oh, just let her have her way,” Ginny said, but the two girls continued to stare at each other, their arms crossed.

Harry’s stomach was doing flip-flops and his eyes felt like they were at a tennis match. Having Hermione and Ginny behaving like this made him very uncomfortable.

“Ginny,” he started, and then Hermione exhaled in a huff.

“Fine! Apparate, do whatever you want!” she said, and then turned and stalked off. And before Harry could tell her that he had been going to tell Ginny that Hermione was right, there was a faint Pop! And she was gone.

As soon as she left, Ginny gave Harry a kiss on the cheek and said, “Be careful,” and then went back into the house.

Ron shook his head after her. “I don’t know what’s going on with those two,” he said.

“I know,” Harry said, puzzled. “They used to get on fine. I wonder what’s changed.” Harry looked into the night at the spot Hermione had just vacated. “Just the same, can you do side-along?”

Ron grinned. “Sure mate,” he said, and grabbed Harry by the arm. Harry had only a few seconds to pray that all of him made it to King’s Cross before they were pulled through a bottle.

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

When Harry and Ron came out of the shadows at King’s Cross, Hermione was already walking towards them, her face business-like.

“I’ve already got our tickets,” she said. “The train departs from platform seven in forty-five minutes.” She handed them each a ticket, which Ron studied as though it were a new species of bug.

“It’s going to be weird, you know,” said Ron, who had never traveled by Muggle train, “Just getting on a train…not running through the wall first…”

Harry and Hermione laughed, then Hermione exclaimed, “Harry! Your shoe!” And Harry looked down to see his right foot clad only in a sock.

“Bloody hell, Ron!” he laughed. “You left my shoe back at the Burrow!”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Oh! Sorry! But you know I’ve never done side-along before,” he said. “Frankly, you’re lucky it’s not your whole leg.”

Hermione was laughing very good naturedly at all of this, and Harry thought that she must be pleased that he hadn’t Apparated on his own. Without a word, she discreetly flicked her wand at his foot, and a new shoe appeared. He smiled at her in thanks, and they went to board the train.

******

“What’s that thing?” Ron asked, gesturing to a little boy across the aisle, who was playing a hand held video game.

“It’s a video game,” Harry said patiently. Ron had asked about every strange Muggle thing he had seen since they boarded.

“Well, what’s a video game? And wow! Did you see that guy’s drink? The bottle made a hissing sound when he opened it! Is it enchanted, do you think?”

“No Ron, it’s carbonated.”

“Oh. Well, what’s carbonated mean?”

Harry groaned.

Hermione intervened. “Ron, you’re going to have to stop asking so many questions. It’s a few hours yet to Godric’s Hollow, and people are going to think that you’re…well…that you’re simple or something.”

“Simple!” Ron sputtered. “I’m not simple! And why do you have to be such a nag?”

“Why do YOU have to be such a child?” she countered, and Harry groaned again as they started in on each other, doing their old routine. He listened to the two of them sling insults back and forth for a few minutes before he said,

“Enough! Ron, be nice to Hermione. Hermione, be nice to Ron. I can’t stand any more of this bickering.”

“Sorry mate,” Ron said sheepishly. “It’s just the way we are, you know. It’s just what we do.”

“Right,” Harry said somewhat irritably. And he knew that Ron was right, fighting was their dynamic. Although the more he thought about it, the more it seemed that Ron was the only one who enjoyed that; Hermione only seemed to want him to be nicer to her. Maybe he should tell Ron…but he didn’t want to butt in. After all, they were a couple…

“Harry? What’s wrong?” Hermione asked.

Harry barely heard her. Maybe Ron and Hermione weren’t a couple. Ron hadn’t mentioned anything about them going out, but Harry had just assumed, ever since Ron had been poisoned, and Dumbledore’s funeral…the way Ron had stroked her hair…

“Harry?” Hermione said again.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” He smiled, although he suddenly felt very strange. There was a warm, tingly feeling in his chest that he couldn’t account for.

“You’re worried about something,” she said softly. “Are you still nervous about going?”

Harry stared out the window at the landscape going past in greens and browns. Nothing fantastic out there. Just trees, and grass, and normal animals, like deer and chipmunks. No dragons. No Whomping Willows. He thought for a minute about what might have happened if Dumbledore had never sent for him. If Hogwarts, and the rest of the Wizarding world had just forgotten that he existed. Would Voldemort have been able to return? Would Dumbledore still be alive? Maybe. And he certainly wouldn’t be starting out on this bleary quest to destroy Horcruxes, a quest that was starting to feel like the end, the true end of everything. Maybe he wouldn’t be going to see his parents’ graves either, if he thought they had died in a car crash.

Harry lowered his eyes. He was the Chosen One, but chosen for what? Chosen to bring back the worst wizard the world had ever seen? Chosen to be a pawn, or a bait in a war that was wreaking havoc in the lives of everyone he’d ever loved? His eyes closed.

“Maybe you should rest, Harry,” Hermione said from beside him, and he hadn’t even noticed that she had switched seats. He was tired. He was very tired. He’d been fighting this battle since he was eleven, after all. He leaned back. He would try to sleep. He had a few hours left on the train, and Hermione could answer all of Ron’s Muggle questions.

“Thank you, both of you, for coming with me,” he said as his eyes closed.

“Sure mate,” Ron said.

“Aren’t we always with you?” Hermione added, and he opened his eyes to look at her. She was right, as usual. They were always with him. Especially her. It was her who’d helped him rescue Sirius, who’d taught him the Summoning charm. She’d saved him from Rita Skeeter and almost given her life at the Department of Mysteries.

“Come on Ron,” Harry heard her say. “Let’s let him get some rest. We can go to the lounge car and get some of those ‘carbonated’ drinks.”

“Really?” Ron said, sliding out of his seat.

Harry listened to them chatter as they walked away, and leaned his head against the cool window. Everything seems all right when they’re with me, he thought, as he drifted to sleep. If only Hermione had been there, the night that Dumbledore had died….

********

They got off the train at the little station in the Muggle village of Godric’s Hollow. Harry looked around. If the place had changed since his parents’ time, he couldn’t see how it could have changed much. The whole village had a very rustic feel. Homey little shops and cottages, wooden signs. And the streets were cobblestone, if they were paved at all.

“So where did your parents live?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know. It was a cottage…nobody ever told me exactly where.” He looked around helplessly. He thought that maybe it had been a mistake to come. He still had that uneasy feeling, and the realization that he had no idea of where to go didn’t do much to quell it.

“Library!” Hermione exclaimed, pointing very excitedly to a shabby gray building down the street.

“Good eye, Hermione,” Ron smiled, and Harry saw her lower her arm and color a bit, like she was slightly embarrassed.

“Right, well, we can check the public records there; they’ve got to have something,” she said quietly, and together they set off down the street.

In no time at all Hermione had a table stacked four deep in newspapers and was leafing through them, trying to find the correct date. Harry and Ron mostly just tried to stay out of her way, taking away the papers that she dismissed and trying not to chuckle at the newsprint on her nose. She was mumbling quickly to herself as she read, and then she said, “Oh,” very softly.

“What?” Harry asked. “Did you find it?”

“Yes,” she said resolutely. “Your parents lived at 915 Knightley Lane. In a little cottage just like you said.” She snatched up the paper and folded it in half. “Let’s get going.”

Ron stood to leave, but Harry reached for the newspaper. Hermione shook her head and bit her lower lip.

“Hermione,” Harry said resolutely, and she let go so that he could read it. The front page headline was extremely large, black and bold: Couple Found Murdered; Baby Missing. Beneath that line was a picture of his parents, laughing and holding a very young infant with unruly hair and a perfectly scar-less forehead. Harry clenched the paper so tightly that it shook, and then folded it quickly and stuffed it into Hermione’s bag.

“915 Knightley Lane,” he said darkly.

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

Harry stared up at the ruin of his parents’ cottage. The house, once white, was now a dingy gray, and the bluish shutters were either cracked or falling off. The yard was overgrown with weeds, and the front gate stood open like a yawning mouth. It looked like nobody had lived there in years.

“Your parents must have been the last people to live here,” Hermione said, repeating Harry’s own thoughts. He didn’t say anything, just walked through the gate, and up to the door, hesitating only a moment before opening it and going inside.

The musty smell hit him full on and made him pause. But if was a bit of a relief. In the back of his mind, he had been worried he would be reminded of the night of the attack by the smells and sights of Godric’s Hollow, but he didn’t recognize anything. Not the moldy and scattered furniture in what remained of the living room. Not the stairway that led to what he thought must be the bedrooms and nursery.

He could hear Hermione and Ron right behind him as he mounted the stairs. The floor beneath their feet creaked with an almost painful sound, and he heard his own voice tell them to be careful. It seemed to him that he was only watching this through someone else’s eyes; nothing seemed real.

Until he saw the crib.

His crib, cream colored with blue ribbons painted on it, he could see that, even though the paint was chipping away and one of the crib legs had broken, leaving the whole thing tilted to one side. He reached out tentatively to touch it, and could suddenly feel his body inside it, warm and only curious about the strange sounds coming from downstairs.

Harry doubled over as he remembered his mother’s scream, closer than ever before. Ron tried to pat him on the back, but he pushed his hand away and ran down the stairs and out of the house.

He didn’t stop until he was leaning against the rickety gate.

“Harry?”

“Let him alone,” Ron said. “Just give him a minute.”

“I have to see if he’s all right,” Hermione said, and a second later he felt her hand on his shoulder.

“What happened in there?” she asked.

“You know what happened,” Harry said shakily. “Voldemort killed my parents.”

“I mean, what happened just now?”

Hermione was holding his hand, and he couldn’t really tell whether he was leaning against her or she against him. “I could hear him,” Harry said, turning to stare back at the cottage. “I could hear him fighting my dad. And I could hear my Mum, I heard her beg…I’ve never remembered that before…” Harry was surprised to feel a tear slip from his eye. It seemed ages since he’d cried.

“Harry,” Hermione soothed him, and wiped the tears away as quickly as they came, as though she couldn’t stand to see them there.

“I’m going to kill him,” Harry said. “I have to kill him.”

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

A half hour later they had made their way to the cemetery, looking for Harry’s parents graves. Hermione had purchased some flowers from a shop, a bouquet of lilies and wildflowers. They had all fanned out, reading the names carved into the headstones. They had been walking for several minutes before Ron called out to them, and waved them over to the eastern corner, to two granite markers placed underneath a large walnut tree.

Harry stood before them somberly, looking down at the names of his parents. It felt very separate from them; he couldn’t quite believe that they were buried beneath his feet, forever.

“It’s a really nice spot,” Ron said quietly, and Hermione nodded. “Lots of shade, and they keep it up too. Nothing’s overgrown.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “I suppose if they’ve got to be-Oh…” His breath caught in his throat. He thought he must be hallucinating. He blinked once, then again, and rubbed his eyes. It wasn’t until he heard Ron say, “What the bloody hell?!” that he knew it was real.

The graves no longer read James and Lily Potter.

The graves read Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

“What’s happening, Harry?” Hermione whispered, her face pale and her eyes very wide.

“It’s him!” Ron hissed in a high pitched voice. “It’s You-Know-Who! He’s here! He’s doing it!”

“Be quiet Ron!” Hermione scolded gently. “It is not!”

“Yes it is,” Harry said in a very dread voice.

“We have to get out of here,” Ron said, panicking.

“And go where exactly?” Hermione asked. “He can see us, obviously, if it is Voldemort-”

“Don’t say his name!” Ron half shouted.

Harry wasn’t listening to either of them. He was watching the ground above his parents’ graves tremble and shift.

“Hermione!”

“What! What is it Harry!”

Harry pointed to the ground, which considered to move and seethe, like something was going to burst through to the surface. “He’s trying to raise them! He’s trying to turn them into Inferi!” Harry’s voice was growing louder and louder, and he was beginning to shake. “Make him stop Hermione! It’s Voldemort, he-” He started to back away. Don’t let me see my parents dead, he thought in a panic. I’ll go mad…I’ll go absolutely insane…Hermione…

“Harry, Harry listen to me!” Hermione shouted through his fear. “He can’t raise your parents, do you hear me? That’s not the way that Inferi are created! He can’t do it! Listen to me!” She pulled his hands into her own. “He can’t do this. It’s just a trick.” She turned to face the woods nearest to them, and spun in a circle. “And it’s a cheap parlor trick!” she screamed. “Do you hear me Voldemort!? It’s a cheap, stupid trick! Do you hear me Tom Riddle?! Do you hear me!!”

“Hermione, it’s stopped,” Ron said, although he still looked scared.

Harry fell to his knees. “Don’t you see what this means,” he whispered. “He knows where I am. He knows how to get to me. And he’s not afraid to do it anymore.”

“He stopped, Harry,” Ron said again, sounding like he wanted to convince himself as well.

“No, Ron, he’s just toying with me!” Harry shouted. “Don’t you see? Dumbledore is gone! There’s no one- He can do whatever he likes! He’s got nothing to fear now!” Harry’s eyes blurred in frustration. How could Dumbledore have been killed? How could he have left him alone? Everything seemed suddenly hopeless, and all he wanted to do was lie down.

“Then we’ll give him something to fear.”

Harry looked up at Hermione. She looked angrier than he had ever seen her as she sank to her knees beside him.

“You and I and Ron, we’ll give him something to fear. Do you hear me?” She smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “You’re going to tell us all about those Horcruxes. We’re going to train. And we’re going to kill him, Harry.” Her resolute eyes softened slightly. “But first-” She was holding out the bouquet of lilies.

Harry swallowed. He took them and squeezed her hand, and nodded to Ron, who was shifting his weight from foot to foot and looking nervous. And then he laid Hermione’s flowers on his parents’ graves.

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

A/N: Whew, that got a little serious at the end there, didn’t it? Anyway, next time we’re back at Hogwarts, which manages to reopen! And soon we’ll get to see Hermione the Heroine! Hey thank you to all of the reviewers, all of you insightful, funny, and sometimes downright weird reviewers! I really appreciate it. And sometimes there’s like, a mini theory in a review. Bonus! I hope that I’ve been replying in a timely manner. If I’m not, yell at me about it! Seriously. Yell. All caps and that angry face emoticon. I’ll get the message.

4. Chapter Four: The Hippogriff Theory

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Four: The Hippogriff Theory

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

So what’s my favorite new theory this week?

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

“I should be getting back to the Burrow,” Ron said.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you coming back to Hogwarts with us?” Harry asked, surprised.

Ron shuffled his feet and glanced furtively at Hermione, who was dragging her trunk over to them. After the incident at Godric’s Hollow, they had wasted no time and caught the next train back to London. King’s Cross was bustling with people; it was taking her quite a while to reach them.

“Well, sure I am,” Ron said with a grin that Harry thought was a little bit unconvincing. “As soon as the term starts. Or even if it doesn’t, I’ll be back when term was supposed to start. It’s just that- I think my mum is a little worried, and she’s going through this whole, ‘empty nest’ thing, what with Bill getting married and Charlie and Percy gone, Fred and George having the magic shop, and Ginny’s really grown up-”

“I get it Ron,” Harry said with a smile. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.” Harry thought that it was very good of Ron to be concerned for Mrs. Weasley, but he still couldn’t help but wonder if Ron’s departure had something to do with the incident at the cemetery.

“Hey Hermione,” Ron said. She had finally made her way over. She was huffing and puffing and blowing her hair out of her eyes.

“Yes Ron?”

“I’m going to head back to the Burrow until school starts.” He hesitated and shifted his weight again. “Do you- do you want to come with me?”

Harry took an inadvertent step backwards and almost stumbled over his trunk. Hermione caught his arm to steady him, but she was looking at Ron, with a confused expression. It was several moments before she spoke, several uncomfortable moments for Ron, Harry thought. He kept clearing his throat and looking back at the train like it might be leaving.

“Well, Harry, are you going back too?”

“I have to start training,” Harry said, almost bitterly. As much as he wanted to keep his friends out of danger, there was still a small part of him that wanted them with him, helping him, instead of spending another cozy summer at the Burrow together.

Hermione bit her lip. “You’ll be coming back, won’t you Ron?”

Harry brightened. Was she staying? Suddenly the air at King’s Cross seemed much fresher, and he noticed a nice breeze being kicked up by an incoming train.
“Right, well then,” Ron was saying, looking nervously at Hermione and purposefully at Harry. The three of them stood very still in the middle of dozens of milling people. “I guess…I’ll see you at school!” And then there was a Pop! And Ron Disapparated out of the station.

The tone of Ron’s voice snapped Harry back to reality. I’m an idiot, he thought with regret. He probably wanted to say goodbye to Hermione alone! Why didn’t I just excuse myself?

“Mommy! Mommy! Did you see that boy disappear?! Where did that boy go?!”

Harry looked down in horror to see a little girl jumping up and down and pointing to the space that Ron had just occupied. She had seen him Disapparate!

“Oh dearest,” Hermione smiled, leaning down to her and giving one of the girl’s pigtails a twirl, “There was no boy there! What are you talking about?”

The little girl lingered for a moment longer before running back to the safety of her mother’s skirts, away from the crazy disappearing people.

“Oh that’s just lovely!” Hermione huffed. “I probably made that poor little girl feel like a simpleton!”

“Better that than to have to call the Ministry,” Harry observed.

Hermione pursed her lips and began to drag her trunk into the shadows. “I suppose you’re right, Harry, but just the same, Ron has to learn to Disapparate more discreetly! Or to at least learn to cast a decent cloaking spell first!” Her brows were knit in that way that she had when she was very frustrated, and Harry couldn’t help smiling.

“What’s so funny?” She snapped.

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly. “But where are you going? I thought we were taking a train?”

“The Hogwarts Express isn’t running. We’re going to have to Apparate. Or rather, I’m going to have to Apparate both of us, and our trunks. This isn’t going to be easy…but if I mess up I promise to conjure you another shoe.”

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

“Oh no,” Hermione was whispering over and over, in between indecipherable mumbles to herself. She and Harry were sitting on their trunks, in the middle of a forest. She had meant to Apparate them directly to the Hogwarts front gate.

“Oh no,” she said again.

Harry watched her for a few seconds with faint annoyance. She had missed her mark because she had been focusing too hard on taking everything with them (which she had succeeded in doing; Harry still had both shoes, and his whole trunk), but if she had just let him Apparate on his own, they’d be inside by now.

“Look, Hermione, it’ll be all right,” Harry grumbled. “I’m sure you didn’t miss by that much.” He looked around at the trees, which looked to him like every other tree in the country. And there were several of them. Whatever forest they were in, they were definitely in the middle of it. He sighed. “I don’t know why you didn’t just let me Apparate on my own.”

Hermione’s brow clouded, and it made Harry a bit angry. “What? Don’t give me that ‘high and mighty’ look, everyone knows that you’ll break the rules when it suits you!” Harry shoved himself off of his trunk and walked a short distance away.

“When it suits me?” Hermione said incredulously.

“Yeah,” Harry snapped, “Everyone else has to follow the rules to a T, just because I got some help from some old notes in Potions last year I’m dirt, but you…” He looked squarely at her. “Have you Confunded anyone lately? To bail your boyfriend out of trouble, maybe?”

“Ron’s not-!” Hermione’s eyes were blazing, and beginning to sparkle with tears.

“Ron’s not what?”

“I can’t believe that you’re saying this to me,” she said, ignoring Harry’s question. “Although maybe I should.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry’s eyes narrowed. Hermione had been standing up and smoothing her clothes, and now she crossed her arms at him and nearly yelled.

“It means that I got you out of Umbridge’s office last year to rescue your godfather, and all I got was snapped at because I didn’t think about the centaurs! And all this year, about the Half-Blood Prince, you wouldn’t listen, you…you and Ginny, would just snap at me!”

Harry walked closer to her, barely hearing what she was saying. “Don’t change the subject. You break the rules when it suits you, but nobody else can. What about attacking Ron with those birds?” Harry was remembering the past year very vividly. He remembered his surprise when he had realized that Hermione had Confunded Cormac just to get Ron on the team. It was so unlike her…and that’s what bothered him the most.

Hermione had drawn her wand with a sigh. “Indagatrix Dispicio,” she said clearly, pointing her wand tip into the sky. Harry watched with wonder as bright blue speckles of light emerged from her wand, to arrange themselves in the air. Two of the speckles glowed much brighter than the others, and Hermione seemed to be studying them intently. “We have to go that way,” she said after a moment, pointing west.

“A map spell,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice from sounding like an apology. Hermione nodded. She lowered her wand and the blue lights exploded and fizzed away like tiny fireworks. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

“Why? Do you intend to be lost quite often?” Hermione levitated her trunk and started to walk west with it hovering before her.

“Hermione-”

“Actually Harry,” she said, cutting him off in a business-like tone. “You can’t use that spell. I wrote it for a woman. Actually, just for me. It can be altered of course,” she added, and Harry couldn’t help but be impressed. Hermione slowed her pace and looked down thoughtfully. “Confunding Cormac McLaggen- can you imagine if I hadn’t? You’d have had to choose between him and Ron based on nothing but your own preference. If you’d have picked Ron, you’d be accused of playing favorites and lost your credibility as Captain. If you hadn’t, Ron would be angry at you and you would have been stuck with Cormac constantly trying to take over the team.”

“I hadn’t really thought of it that way,” Harry said honestly. He levitated his own trunk and started off after her. They walked through the trees in silence. Every now and again Hermione would call up her map in a flash of blue sparkles to check their position. They had Apparated about a half mile into the forest just outside the castle grounds.

Harry was still thinking about what she’d said. Confunding McLaggen really had helped him, he supposed. And she had disobeyed a professor when she lied to Umbridge last year…and she had broken school rules with her Time Turner to help him save Sirius from the Dementors…and she had brewed the Polyjuice Potion for him when he needed to spy on Malfoy…and then of course she had set a professor on fire for him in their first year (and Harry smiled as he thought of Snape on fire).

He looked at Hermione, walking in front of him, her brown hair swaying softly, and he suddenly felt very guilty.

“Hermione,” he said awkwardly.

“Yes Harry?”

“When you break the rules,” he paused and heard Hermione sigh.

“Yes? What about it?”

“You break them for me,” he said finally. “I shouldn’t have said what I did, just now.”

Hermione quickly wiped at her face and then turned to him, smiling. ‘It’s all right, Harry.”

Harry stiffened as behind them he heard the very distinct sound of footsteps.

“I can really be a bit of a nag sometimes…you know I-”

“Shush, Hermione,” Harry said, and the tone of his voice made her freeze. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” she whispered. They both stood completely still, their ears and eyes straining. Harry’s heart was pounding. They waited for what seemed like an eternity before they heard it again, this time a sharp crack, of a twig beneath a foot, Just to their right. And then again, to their left. Harry got the sinking feeling that they were being surrounded. He looked at Hermione, and she nodded slightly.

Without a word they started running together, towards the castle, and around them, the forest seemed to erupt from all directions as whatever had been trying to cut them off gave chase. Harry glanced back over his shoulder and saw what looked like a red werewolf, its horrible, spindly legs propelling it extremely fast.

“Impedimenta!” He shouted and sent it rolling, but there were half a dozen more crashing through the underbrush towards them. “Faster,” he said to Hermione, and from behind them, he thought he heard a very scratchy laughter, but that didn’t make sense; werewolves couldn’t laugh, but then again, nor could they be werewolves without the full moon. Harry glanced up to make sure that the sun was alone in the sky. He couldn’t see a false moon anywhere.

Beside him, Hermione gave a little shriek and swung her wand around, guiding her levitating trunk and using it to bludgeon one of the creatures that was getting too close. But they were all getting too close. And Hermione was panting; they just couldn’t run fast enough. Harry was vaguely reminded of the time he and Ron had fled Aragog’s nest, chased by hundreds of hungry and oversized spiders.

“I wish we had a flying car!” he shouted as they ran, and to his surprise, Hermione’s face lit up.

She put her fingers to her mouth and whistled twice, very loudly.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked her.

She smiled at him. “As it turns out, today wishes are hippogriffs. Now use your trunk! Knock them down!”

As she spoke, Harry heard a very familiar and welcome screech, and saw Buckbeak swooping down through the trees. Harry and Hermione stopped running, and swung their trunks from left to right and back again, bowling over every creature that leaped at them. But more were coming. Harry noticed with a sick feeling that when they fell they made no sound, no whimper at all.

“Harry, come on!”

He turned around to see Hermione already on Buckbeak’s back, and ran to climb up behind her. They were in the air in three quick leaps, their trunks floating along behind them.

******

“What were those things?” Harry was pacing back and forth after they had landed in the courtyard. “They looked like werewolves, but werewolves can’t be out in the day…” He was puzzled. And shaking. The creatures, whatever they were, really looked much worse than werewolves. They had spindly, unnatural legs, and their eyes were blood red. They seemed nothing but eyes, teeth and fur…and horribly elongated teeth at that. “Hermione, what do you think?”

But Hermione didn’t appear to be thinking much. She had her arms wrapped around Buckbeak’s neck, and the hippogriff didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was clicking his beak rather contentedly, not unlike Hedwig after she had eaten a very plump mouse.

Now things made even less sense. Because even though Hermione had helped to save the hippogriff’s life, and was obviously fond of him, she had never been comfortable around Buckbeak. And yet Harry had just seen her call him to her, and ride him as if she’d been riding him for ages. Harry suddenly remembered the gray feathers that seemed to be frequently stuck to her sleeves, and the way that she refused to give up feeding him.

“Hermione-”

“I know, Harry,” she said, reading his mind. “I guess I’m just not so scared of him anymore.” Buckbeak bobbed his head as Harry approached, and bowed.

Hermione giggled. “I don’t think you need to bow anymore,” she said. “But you probably should say thank you,” she added, “After all, he’s saved your life twice now, in the last three months.”

Harry looked at her hard. He saw the way that Buckbeak was nibbling at her shoulder and remembered how the hippogriff had charged in from nowhere to save him from Snape’s attack. “Hermione, how long have you and Buckbeak been….friends?” he asked suspiciously.

“Since-” she started, and then blushed and looked away. “Since right after your last Quidditch match.”

Harry reached out to pat the hippogriff. “The night that Buckbeak saved me-” Harry said, intending to ask her if she had sent him, but she cut him off.

“Yes, he was very clever, wasn’t he? Very brave.” She was looking down at the ground and blushing furiously. As Harry looked at her, he felt a curious warmth in his chest.

“He was very brave,” Harry said softly. “And he’s always very clever. Thank you,” he said, and Hermione looked up at Buckbeak proudly.

But Harry wasn’t sure if Buckbeak had been the one he was talking to.

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

A/N: Okay that one was kind of short. But if I had added the next section, where training begins and Ginny (bleh) shows up again, it would have been way too long. Thanks to all of you hippogriff theorists, and to whoever came up with the idea that the Confunding helped Harry more than Ron. I like it.

And the reviews have been excellent. Gnarly. Bodacious. Tubular. And whatever other dorky 80’s word you can think of.

Next week we’re laying more groundwork for the catfight…I don’t think Ginny’s going to be too happy about Hermione helping Harry train…and Ron too, will be feeling suspicious…

5. Chapter Five: Not the Ideal Girl

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.

6. Chapter Six: To Kill a Rat

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Six: To Kill a Rat

Disclaimer: Harry Potter blah blah blah, JK Rowling blah blah blah, Warner Bros., gabba gabba hey.

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

“Oh! I can’t find any trace of those wolf-creatures anywhere!” Hermione slammed the cover down on the enormous book she had been reading, sending a little cloud of dust up around her face. “I thought they might be distant relatives of Mongolian vash-tapirs, you know, the giant wild dogs, after all, they’re forest dwelling, but-” She sighed and thumped her forehead against the table.

“Right, yeah, Mongolian vosh-tappers,” Ron said, and rolled his eyes. “We know exactly what they are.”

“Well you would,” Hermione said hotly, “If you did ANY extra reading at all!”

Ginny was sitting beside Hermione, paging calmly through a copy of Carniverous Magical Creatures to Avoid, by Prawnski. “There’s no point getting upset about it,” she said evenly. “It won’t help us find them any faster.” She had insisted on researching with them in the library, and since research didn’t seem all that dangerous, Harry hadn’t tried to argue with her.

Hermione pushed her chair away and left to get another book, just as Luna Lovegood drifted up to their table. She had returned on the Hogwarts Express the previous evening, which was, as Ginny had predicted, nearly empty. She was wearing a necklace of bottle caps.

“Hello Harry, Ginny, Ronald,” she said. “What’re you all looking for?”

“Some monsters that chased Harry and Hermione in the forest,” Ron said. “Big red thingys.”

“Maybe they were Pygmy Hoonhares,” Luna suggested.

“Trust me, there was nothing ‘Pygmy’ about them,” Harry said.

“There’s nothing! Nothing!” Hermione exclaimed, and Harry gave a start. She was standing right behind him, and he hadn’t heard her walk up. “They have to be werewolves…except that they can’t be…” Harry could see that the lack of logic was beginning to drive her crackers.

“But it was broad daylight, and I heard one of them laugh,” he said with a shiver. “And besides, they didn’t even look like werewolves, we’ve seen a werewolf- these things were…much worse.”

“Worse than me?”

The five of them turned to see a very familiar face standing against the shelf behind them.

“Professor Lupin!” Harry and Hermione exclaimed, and Lupin smiled and came to the table, shaking hands with Harry and Ron and nodding to the girls. He placed his hand on Hermione’s shoulder.

“Now, what could be worse than me?”

Harry told him what had happened.

“Have you told anyone else about this?”

Harry shook his head. “Just the Headmistress. She ordered the forest searched, but didn’t find anything. Do you know what they might be?”

Lupin frowned. “They don’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard of,” he said thoughtfully.

The six of them looked at each other in silence until Ron said, “Oy! Does this mean you’re back? Are you the new DADA teacher?”

“I am,” Lupin said. “Apparently with the war on, they’re very short on professors. Although, they did offer the job to Mad-Eye Moody, but he didn’t want it. Said he had more important things to do.”

“Like what?” Hermione asked.

“Like cursing Deatheaters and running the order, I suppose.” He looked around the nearly empty library. “Headmistress McGonagall said that class sizes could be very low. There are only nine first years.”

“Only nine?” Hermione gasped.

Lupin nodded. “Most parents are choosing to hold them back for a year, or at least to send them to schools that are less-” he glanced at Harry, “high profile.”

Harry looked down. He hadn’t realized that his being there was hurting the school.

“But we’ll still have normal classes?” Hermione asked hopefully.

“As normal as we can manage. But, there will probably be no Quidditch, this year.”

“No Quidditch!” Exclaimed Ron and Ginny in unison. Harry looked at Ginny sadly. His last year of school and there would be no Quidditch….

“Maybe it’s for the best, Harry,” Hermione said, trying to be helpful. “You’ve got so much training to do as it is…and with classes, you’d hardly have time for Quidditch practice.”

Harry gave her an annoyed glance, and Ginny was practically glaring at her. Hermione looked away and began to page through her book again.

“Well,” Professor Lupin said. “I’d better go and review my lesson plan. Classes will start up in a few days.”

The table was very quiet after he left. They all knew that classes should have started today, the morning after the arrival of the Hogwarts Express. But the school was so empty, and they knew that Headmistress McGonagall was still holding out some hope that more students would trickle in.

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

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny looked around dismally at all of the empty seats during their first Potions class. There were so few students that the sixth years and seventh years had been grouped together; it would be largely up to the older students to make sure that the younger class could keep up. Ginny, at least, seemed to be doing well. By the end of the first lecture her Flammarion serum was almost as sparkling and golden as Hermione’s.

“I think mine actually made him break a sweat,” Ginny said happily as they left, referring to Professor Oddburg. Professor Oddburg was a nervous young man, who actually reminded Harry a bit of Professor Quirrell, only less unpleasant. He had replaced Horace Slughorn, who had gone into hiding again after Dumbledore’s death.

“I think mine made him want to throw up,” Ron mumbled. Harry tried not to laugh. Ron’s serum really was pathetic, a sickly shade of gray rather than gold, and it kind of just gurgled, rather than sparkled. Flammarion serum was meant to keep the drinker’s body warm even in the coldest of climates, and when prepared properly, was supposed to taste like melted butter and cinnamon. Harry thought that Ron’s potion must have tasted more like warm clay and yard weeds.

Harry looked around. “Where’s Hermione?”

Ginny motioned over her shoulder dismissively. “She stayed behind to talk to the new teacher.”

Harry craned his neck to see the back of the classroom. Hermione was chattering animatedly to Professor Oddburg, who was chattering animatedly back, and motioning something with his hands. Harry wondered what she was up to. She had never been that interested in potions before.

******

By the end of the day, all four of them were loaded down with homework. Even Professor Lupin had asked for two feet of parchment on poisons derived from amphibians.

“I can’t believe all of this homework on the first day!” Ron groaned. “It’s like they’re trying to make up for all of the work they could have assigned if the school was full!”

Harry stared down at his roll of parchment, which had barely four sentences on it. Hermione was scribbling away across the table from him, already done with everything except for her Arithmancy assignment. She was pausing every few moments to take bites from a large sandwich that Dobby had brought up to the Common Room for her. He had brought one for Harry too, but so far, he hadn’t touched it. All of the homework left him with no appetite, even though he and Hermione had skipped dinner in the Great Hall to try to stupefy each other on the Quidditch Pitch.

“There! Done!” Hermione announced proudly, putting down her quill. “What’s wrong, Harry? Why aren’t you eating?”

“Nothing, it’s just-” Harry sighed. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Hermione frowned, and tried to push his sandwich plate closer to him. “It’ll give you some energy, at least,” she suggested.

“It’s not the food he needs,” Ron said. “It’s this bloody homework. Why don’t you give him a hand?”

Harry looked up at Hermione hopefully, but she avoided his eyes.

“I’d be happy to look over Harry’s homework once he’s finished with it,” she said simply.

“Oh for pity’s sake Hermione,” Ginny grumbled. “Doesn’t Harry have enough to do without worrying about fifty miles of parchment due the next day?” She reached across the table and gathered up Harry’s things. “Here, I’ll do them for you. I’m almost finished with mine anyway.”

Harry smiled at her gratefully. Suddenly that sandwich was starting to look extremely tasty. What was it that Dobby had made? Roast beef and swiss cheese?

“Hey, what’s the matter with you, Hermione?” Ron asked, raising his eyebrows.

Harry glanced over at her, and was startled to see her expression, dark as a storm cloud. Hermione said nothing, just gave a Hmpf! And stuffed her parchment beneath her arm.

“What’s wrong?” Ron asked again, “Why are you glaring at me? What’d I do now?”

Hermione, who had started to walk towards the girls’ dormitory, stopped and hissed at him, “Doing Harry’s homework is NOT helping him! I can’t believe you suggested it!” And then she turned on her heel and stormed out of the Common Room.

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

Since Ginny had already finished his homework, Harry didn’t really mind being called into Headmistress McGonagall’s office early Saturday morning. He actually felt very refreshed; he said the password, ‘Buttercream frosting’, and bounded up the curving stairway.

“Good morning Professor McGonagall,” he said cheerfully as he entered, and then paused when he saw that Professor Lupin and Alastor Moody were there as well. “Er, good morning Professor Lupin…Mad-…er…Moody,” he mumbled, not knowing what to call him.

“It’s Mad Eye Moody, Potter,” Moody said proudly. “Not Mad-Ear.”

“Right,” Harry smiled, even though that wasn’t what he’d said.

“Have a seat, Potter,” the Headmistress said sternly. Harry suddenly got a very strong sense of foreboding. It wasn’t every Saturday morning that he was called into a meeting with three of the strongest members of the Order of the Phoenix.

As he sat down in the chair beside Professor Lupin, he saw them all exchange concerned looks. Mad-Eye actually exchanged two: one per eye.

“What is it?” Harry asked. “What’s going on?”

Professor McGonagall appeared reluctant to speak.

“There have been sightings, Harry,” Professor Lupin said softly.

“Sightings? Of what?”

Lupin glanced at McGonagall, but Moody declared brazenly, “Of Peter Pettigrew!” and both of the other professors winced at his lack of tact.

Harry was filled with a sudden fury. “Peter Pettigrew!? Where? Where is he?!” Harry’s hands were digging into the arms of his chair; he was shaking. The rat was daring to show his face…the rat who had betrayed his parents to their death….who had betrayed his own best friends….

“Harry,” Professor McGonagall said sternly. “The only reason that we are telling you this is because Headmaster Dumbledore left explicit instructions that you were to be involved with all aspects and actions of the order. We aren’t allowed to keep you in the dark, according to his wishes.”

“And is it very good of you, to abide by my wishes.”

All four of them glanced uncomfortably up at Dumbledore’s portrait, which was watching over the meeting very closely, a sly little smile on his face. Harry winced inwardly. Before Dumbledore had died, he had thought that the portraits were a clever way to honor the former Headmasters, but now, it was only an eerie reminder that the portrait was all that was left.

“Yes,” McGonagall said after a few moments. “In any case, we wanted you to be informed, and to be aware that the matter is being handled with great care, and caution.”

“Great care and caution?” Harry said incredulously. Had they all gone mad? This was Peter Pettigrew, the murderer, the man who was responsible for Sirius being imprisoned in Azkaban for most of his life!

“Until we know what he’s up to, we have to use care, Harry,” Professor Lupin said reasonably.

Harry blinked. All three of them were watching him very closely. He had to remain calm. He had to appear calm, or they would disobey Dumbledore’s orders and keep him out of the order. He took two deep breaths, and when he spoke, was impressed at how even his voice sounded. “Where has he been seen?”

Professor McGonagall exhaled. “In Pitcairn forest, south of Hogsmeade. Tonks is watching for him, Harry. He won’t get away.”

“I know that,” Harry said quietly.

***********

When Harry left the meeting, he bumped directly into Ginny.

“Hi Harry,” she said. “What were you doing in the Headmistress’ office?”

Harry opened his mouth, and then hesitated. “Do you know where Hermione and Ron are?”

Ginny frowned. “No. They probably went off together or something. I haven’t seen them this morning.”

Harry scanned the hallway quickly, as if any moment Hermione and Ron might come around the corner. But they didn’t, and he had to tell someone.

“Oh Harry!” Ginny exclaimed, after he had told her about Peter Pettigrew. “Are you going to go after him?”

“I have to,” Harry said determinedly. “He killed my parents. Or he may as well have.” Ginny smiled at him and said something about how brave he was, but all he could hear was Hermione’s voice shouting in his head about dangers, and rushing into things.

“Ginny, do you….do you think that I should?”

Ginny’s eyes blazed. “Harry, Peter Pettigrew ruined your life. He deserves whatever he gets, and you should be the one to give it to him.”

Harry smiled. “Thanks Ginny. Listen, don’t tell anyone, all right?”

“I won’t. Good luck. I know you’ll find him.” And then she leaned in, and kissed him lightly on the lips. By the time Harry had recovered from the shock, she was gone.

*********

Harry ran lightly across the castle grounds, a knapsack slung over his shoulder. He had stopped by the dormitory to pack a few things, just some essentials, extra food and clothes. He hopped over a few of the smaller pumpkins in the patch, running until he saw what he was looking for: a big gray hippogriff, and beside him, grooming his feathers, a bushy haired girl.

“Hermione!” he called out to her and she waved.

“Harry!” She looked at his knapsack uncertainly. “Where are you going?”

“Peter Pettigrew is in Pitcairn forest.”

Hermione looked down and bit her lip. Buckbeak nudged her hand and she absently went back to grooming his feathers. “What does the order say?”

“I’m going to find him,” Harry said, ignoring her. “I’m going to capture him. He must know something. He might even know where the other horcruxes are.”

“Does the order know that you’re going?”

“No,” he said stubbornly.

“Oh Harry, you can’t go! It’s almost certainly a trap; think about it! Why is Pettigrew suddenly showing up? And in the forest, no less, when we already know that those horrible red dogs are in forests…”

“If you’re scared-”

“I am scared!” Hermione cried shrilly. “And you should be scared too! This is serious, Harry-”

“I know it’s serious. But do you want to find those horcruxes or not?” Harry glanced around. The pumpkin patch was empty. Hagrid was nowhere to be seen, but he still didn’t feel comfortable having this conversation out in the open.

Hermione stroked Buckbeak’s neck. “I really don’t think that Peter Pettigrew knows where the other horcruxes are. He’s a weak, simpering idiot; Voldemort would be a complete fool to tell him his secrets.”

“My parents told Pettigrew a secret,” Harry growled.

“That’s not what I meant! Nobody knew then how disloyal he was,” Hermione bristled. “I’m just saying that you shouldn’t go running off into something this dangerous unprepared and all by yourself!”

Harry paused. “What do you mean by myself? Aren’t you coming?”

Hermione made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a nervous breakdown. “I have to go and change first.”

“I brought some extra slacks for you to wear,” Harry said, reaching into his bag.

“Do you really think I’m going to fit into your slacks?” Hermione asked, sounding offended.

Harry looked at her. She was dressed very prettily in a gray pleated skirt and white blouse. He supposed that she was much slimmer than he was. “Well…I…Hermione, we’re kind of in a hurry.”

With a shake of her head, she drew her wand and softly tapped her skirt, transfiguring it into a pair of dark blue jeans. “We’ll take Buckbeak,” she said, her tone very direct. She started to walk towards Hagrid’s hut, and Harry couldn’t help admiring her blue jean spell. They fit perfectly. Maybe too perfectly, Harry thought suddenly, and tore his eyes away before he started to blush.

Hermione went inside Hagrid’s hut, and when she came back out, her hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was carrying several vials of dark liquid, which she proceeded to stuff into Harry’s bag.

“What’re those?” Harry asked, trying to get a closer look.

“Blood-replenishing potion,” Hermione said. “Professor Oddburg has been helping me to stockpile it.”

“That’s optimistic,” Harry grumbled.

“That’s practical, Harry.” Hermione whistled softly and Buckbeak trotted up. Harry stroked his wings. Hermione had been right; he didn’t need to bow anymore. After a moment, the hippogriff got down on one knee, and Harry sprang onto his back. He wanted to get going; it was a long way to Pitcairn forest, even by hippogriff.

“Just one more thing,” Hermione was saying, almost to herself, as she disappeared into Hagrid’s hut. This time she came out with a very familiar looking jam jar, which she stuffed into a knapsack of her own.

Harry reached down and pulled her up behind him, and in a few short leaps, they were airborne.

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

The wind was extremely chilly at the height they were flying, looking down through wisps of fog at the tops of the trees of Pitcairn forest, which were very dark green and densely packed together. Harry shivered and nestled his fingers deeper into Buckbeak’s feathers. Behind him, Hermione was snuggling tightly against his back, causing the vials of blood-replenishing potion to rattle about. He wished that there was a little bit of Flammarion serum amongst those nine vials…after all, how much blood did she think he was going to lose?

“It’s so thick,” Hermione shouted in his ear, trying to make herself heard above the howling wind. “We might have to go to the edge of the forest and walk in.”

Harry peered down at the tightly packed treetops. They were so close together that they looked like a head of broccoli. He sighed and scanned the horizon. Nothing but trees. No clearings, and no end to them, that he could see. They had already been flying for hours; the sun was going down. Making it to the edge of the forest would take forever.

“There!” Harry exclaimed, pointing down to a small shadowy space between the trees.

“There?” Hermione said skeptically. “Buckbeak’s never going to fit through that tiny hole! And I’m freezing, can’t we just-”

Harry grasped her hands from where they lay clasped on his chest and put them to his mouth, blowing on them to warm them. “Come on Hermione, Buckbeak can do it. Just duck down close behind me.”

Hermione was staring down frightfully at the trees. “Can’t we just blow a hole through them?”

“Don’t you think that would attract a bit of attention?”

“And a gigantic hippogriff throttling though the brush with a screaming girl on his back isn’t going to attract attention?” she snapped.

“Don’t scream then,” Harry smiled, and clicked softly to Buckbeak, who dove for the small space without a second’s hesitation, tucking his wings tightly against his body. Just before they hit the trees, Harry realized just how small the opening was, and closed his eyes, feeling branch after branch scrape his arms and face.

It seemed to take an eternity to get through the canopy, but then Buckbeak’s wings spread wide, and they floated to the forest floor. Hermione slid down and went to the hippogriff’s face, brushing leaves from it and making sure that he wasn’t hurt.

“Are you all right, Harry?”

“Yes, fine. You?”

“Fine,” she said, and Harry tried to keep from grinning as she plucked a stray twig from her hair.

“Now,” Harry said, looking around thoughtfully. “To find Pettigrew.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said, drawing her wand. “There’s nothing in this forest but trees, Peter Pettigrew, and us. It could take forever, and we could get abominably lost.”

“Not with that map spell of yours,” Harry said helpfully. “But you are right. Pettigrew can hide much better than we can, being a rat and everything. I wish we had some kind of Marauder’s Map, you know, one that worked everywhere.”

Hermione had gone suddenly silent at his words. Her brow was knit and she was nibbling her lower lip furiously.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing….” she mumbled. “At least, not yet.”

Harry looked at her, puzzled. “Well, I suppose there’s only one way to do this then,” he said after a few moments of silence. And they started to walk through the forest, Harry first, Buckbeak second, and Hermione trailing distractedly behind.

****

“Do you want to stop? Have a bit to eat maybe?” Harry said over his shoulder. They had been walking for almost two hours and it was officially dusk. The forest had turned an ethereal gray.

Harry put his knapsack down on a nearby boulder and fished around in it until he found the bread and cheese that he’d hastily wrapped in a cloth that morning. He handed a piece of bread to Hermione, who tore into it gratefully.

“I’d better save some,” she said reluctantly. “To share with Buckbeak. We forgot to bring his ferrets.”

“Don’t think that’s a problem,” Harry smiled, and Hermione turned to see the hippogriff trotting happily from tree to tree, his head low to the ground and his tail flickering excitedly, gobbling up one unlucky chipmunk after another.

“I guess he’s set then,” Hermione said with a grimace. “It’s a good thing you remembered to bring food, Harry. All I remembered to bring were potions. Sometimes I get so involved in preparation, that I…well, I…”

“Forget to prepare?” Harry finished for her, and she blushed.

“Harry, you have a little…crumb-” Hermione reached out tentatively and brushed her fingers against his cheek. “There,” she said, satisfied, and went back to eating her piece of cheese.

Harry sat very still for a moment and watched her eat. There was a soft breeze moving through her hair, and her features were shadowed in the fading light. She really is pretty, Harry thought suddenly. Every bit as pretty as Ginny, actually…maybe even- Harry coughed loudly.

“Are you all right, Harry?”

“Yes,” he said, a little too fast. He looked down at his piece of cheese. “We’re running out of light, do you think we might be able to set a trap for Pettigrew? Use the cheese as bait?”

Hermione blinked at him.

“You know,” he grinned, “Rats love cheese.”

Hermione laughed and pushed him in the shoulder. “Harry really, I don’t think we’re going to get Pettigrew to fall for a mousetrap, no matter how stupid-”

“I’m not stupid!”

The blast from behind them came so quickly that Hermione didn’t even have time to scream, she was knocked off of the boulder and thrown several feet, where she lay in a limp heap. Harry spun, ready to cast the best stinging hex of his life, but Pettigrew disappeared.

He had never seen an Animagus transform so quickly, nor a rat run so fast. In only an instant, Pettigrew had scrambled across the ground to Hermione, and transformed back into himself, dragging her up with him, using her as a shield.

“Who’s the stupid one now, girl!” Pettigrew shrieked in his rodent-like voice. He snapped his wand against the side of her head and she came to, groggily, and then her eyes widened. Pettigrew was stroking her hair like she was some kind of pet.

“Hermione, don’t move,” Harry said evenly.

“Hermione don’t move,” Pettigrew sneered. “Stupid little Harry Potter! The Dark Lord knew that you couldn’t resist me! He knew that I was the one to entrust with this task…that I was the one who could trap the great Harry Potter.”

“He used you as bait, you idiot,” Harry said through clenched teeth, and Pettigrew began to look shiftily from side to side, as though he were wondering about the reliability of his reinforcements. But the fact that it was a trap barely registered in Harry’s mind. All he could see was Hermione’s trembling form, all he could hear was her breath, coming in gasps, and his mind kept replaying the way she had flown through the air…how hard she had struck the ground.

“Let her go,” Harry said.

“Or what?” Pettigrew chattered, his overgrown front teeth clicking grotesquely. “One more move and I curse your girlfriend…right out of her mind!”

To his left, Harry heard Buckbeak screech, and saw the hippogriff paw the ground furiously, snapping his beak like he would very much like to have rat for desert.

“Ah, I see that my friends have arrived,” Pettigrew preened. All around Harry the forest was moving. The great red dogs were coming out of the fog, walking upright and very slowly, in such a way that they could have been there the whole time, motionless amongst the tree trunks. But Harry couldn’t take his eyes from Hermione. There was a trickle of blood leaking from her nose and she looked as though she might cry. Harry’s heart was pounding, and his chest felt so warm, so unlike anything he’d felt before.

Suddenly, Buckbeak gave an ear shattering screech, and charged at the nearest dog-creature, knocking it to the ground. The others, who had been closing in on Harry, smelled the bloodlust and leapt for the hippogriff, who began kicking and snapping his beak in all directions.

“Buckbeak!” Hermione cried, starting to struggle in Pettigrew’s grasp, and in his moment of distraction, Harry yelled, “Expelliarmus!”

Pettigrew’s wand went flying, and Harry was upon him in an instant, tearing his arms away from Hermione, his hands going to Pettigrew’s face.

All he could feel was the warmth in his chest. All he could see was Hermione’s bruised and bleeding face. And beneath him, Peter Pettigrew began to scream, and smoke. And then Harry became extremely dizzy.

*********

“Harry, help me! There are too many of them!”

Harry shook his head to clear it, and saw Hermione, her wand raised, hexing creature after creature as they sprang at them in a flurry of red. Buckbeak was there as well, using his wings to beat one of them senseless upon his back. The red thing tumbled into the dirt, unconscious.

Harry looked down. Beneath him, the ground was charred and black. It was all that remained of Peter Pettigrew.

“Harry!”

Harry stood, still in shock, and shouted, “Impedimenta!” knocking two of the animals to the ground before they even had time to leap. “We have to get out of here. Get up on Buckbeak, I can hold them!” He shouted hexes to his right and left, while Hermione scrambled onto Buckbeak’s back.

“Come on, Harry!” She held her hand out to him, and he took it, heaving himself up behind her just as the red leader sprang, sinking his teeth into Buckbeak’s hindquarter.

“Stupefy!” Harry hissed, and the red thing howled and released its grip. Harry looked down worriedly at the wound, and then back at the ground, and was horrified to realize that the thing he had just hexed appeared to be smiling at him.

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

Somehow, Buckbeak managed to fly back to the castle grounds. Every now and then, Hermione would try to get him to drink a bit of blood-replenishing potion. His hindquarter was bleeding profusely, and Harry was extremely relieved that she had brought all nine vials. When they landed, Hagrid was so worried for his hippogriff that he didn’t even ask where they had been.

“Don’ worry Buckbeak, we’ll get yer fixed up good as new,” he kept saying, wringing his hands and rummaging through his cupboards of healing herbs. Buckbeak was lying listlessly on the half-giant’s bed, exhausted.

“Hermione, look at me,” Harry said.

Reluctantly, she turned her eyes from the hippogriff and looked at him. There was still a bit of blood on her nose. “Tergeo,” he said softly, touching his wand to her face, and it disappeared.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Learned it from you,” he said, and then looked down. “I killed him.” The weight of it descended on his shoulders like an unwelcome owl. He had hated Pettigrew, and he didn’t regret it exactly, but for some reason he kept thinking of Dumbledore’s words to Draco Malfoy…. ‘you’re not a killer’…

And then Harry gasped in surprise as Hermione flung herself into his arms.

“You saved my life,” she said tearfully. “He would have killed me, he would have killed us both, and you didn’t let him.”

Harry’s eyes blurred as he stared out over Hermione’s shoulder. “I couldn’t,” he realized suddenly. “I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

Hermione pulled away, smiling, and Harry found that he didn’t want to let her go. He wiped a tear from her cheek, not really understanding what was happening.

“You killed Peter Pettigrew?”

Harry and Hermione both gave a start. They had forgotten that Hagrid was even in the room. Harry nodded mutely.

“You two ad better get back up ter the castle.”

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

“I guess I’d better go see Professor McGonagall,” Harry said dismally. What he really wanted to do was walk Hermione back to the Common Room and then collapse into bed. He was exhausted.

“I suppose so,” she said, sounding equally tired. “Will you be all right? Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I-”

“There you are!”

Harry and Hermione gave another start as they saw Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville standing at the top of the stairs. Ron stormed down towards them, and Ginny ran to Harry and threw her arms around him.

“I’m fine, Ginny,” Harry said, peeling her off. His back was starting to hurt, and he was beginning to crave some of Esmerelda Snuffington’s Dueling Cream. Ginny was looking at him proudly, without even knowing what had happened. Harry remembered the kiss from this morning. She was behaving as though they had never broken up.

“You can’t just run off somewhere like that and not even tell me!”

Harry looked up. Ron was shouting at Hermione.

“There wasn’t exactly time, you know,” Hermione hissed, mustering up her best angry goose impression, even though Harry knew how tired she must be. “Besides, the last time I checked, I could go where I pleased!”

“I’m involved in this too…you’re not the only one who’s Harry’s friend-”

“Oh Ron!” Hermione huffed. “We weren’t trying to leave you out! We were- we just had to-”

She was sputtering, and Harry was just about to defend her when she shouted, “What does it matter to you anyway?!”

Ron’s face was so red that it matched his hair. Harry thought that he might just explode into a rage, but then, without another word, Ron reached out and took Hermione in both of his hands, and kissed her.

There was silence in the hallway. Harry stared at them in disbelief. It was painfully clear that he had just witnessed Ron and Hermione’s first kiss.

When Ron finally broke away from her, Hermione stared at him blankly for a few seconds, and then glanced at Harry, who quickly beamed a smile.

“Well, it’s about time,” Ginny said from beside Harry, and rushed to hug Hermione, as though they were sisters and best friends again in an instant.

Hermione looked at him again through the red haze of Ginny’s hair, and attempted a tremulous smile. Harry felt his heart suddenly hit the floor.

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

AN: Long chapter, as an apology for the long wait. Thanks to everyone who’s been reviewing and who’s sticking with me. I hope this little Ron thing at the end wasn’t too yucky for you. I really appreciated all of you who wished me luck in California…it went well, and was actually rather interesting.

Thanks for all of the advice and feedback, the reviews have been some of the best I’ve ever seen. Okay I need to stop yacking and post this thing. But first, a teaser:

Next week, Harry starts to explore his newfound feelings, and yes, catfight city. I think we’re almost at the end, folks! And yes, for you careful readers, I did borrow Flammarion Serum from one of my other fics. Creativity goes only so far.

7. Chapter Seven: And in this Corner....Hermione Granger

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Seven: And in This Corner…Hermione Granger

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. If he was, I’d rewrite book six to have Harry profess his undying love for Hermione, and they’d celebrate by putting Ginny in a stewpot. Just kidding, Ginny fans! And by the way, what are you doing here?

Many thanks to everyone who voted and helped this story come in a surprising third in the Felix Felicis! It’s amazing! Astonishing! You all kick serious aay double ess. Bootay. Badonkadonk. Whatever you want to call it. Butt, even.

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

Everyone was staring at him. Everyone being Professors Lupin and McGonagall, Mad-Eye Moody, and Tonks. Harry couldn’t tell whether they were so angry that they were speechless, or if they were just plain confused.

McGonagall’s lips pursed. She was angry. “The fact that you went hunting for Pettigrew, when we expressly told you that it was being taken care of-” Her lips pursed tighter; she hardly even had lips anymore, “You’ve broken several school rules, and you could have been killed! Worse still, you put Miss Granger in jeopardy as well!”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said helplessly. And truly he was. Had he not gone after Pettigrew himself, they might have captured him, they might have been able to learn things from him. Now he was just a pile of dust. At the time, going to Pitcairn forest had seemed the only option, but those feelings were miles away, and Harry couldn’t find the words to explain them.

“You…burned him up?” Moody asked slowly, squinting his wonky magic eye. He was confused. “Did you use Incendio?”

“No, I-” Harry looked down at his hands. “I can’t explain it. I didn’t use my wand at all. I just touched him…like-”

“Like Professor Quirrell,” Lupin finished thoughtfully.

“Exactly,” Harry said. “Only not exactly. With Quirrell, I had no idea what was going on. I couldn’t feel anything; I didn’t know why it was burning him to touch me, I only knew that I had to hang onto him. This time I- I definitely felt something…I think I wanted it to happen…” Harry trailed off, thinking of Hermione’s frightened face.

“Can you control it? Could you call it up now, for instance?”

Harry tried to focus. He tried to recall everything he was feeling in the forest. After a moment or two he sighed and shook his head. Around him, the Order of the Phoenix looked crestfallen.

“Peter Pettigrew is dead,” Professor McGonagall said flatly. “And we’re no closer to identifying the wolf-like creatures….we have no other option but to wait for the Deatheaters to make their next move.”

Harry thought her tone sounded faintly accusatory.

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

The Great Hall was an uproar of chattering, that is, until Harry walked in. He supposed that he should be used to the sudden silences by now, but it still bothered him to see the other students staring at him, or worse, desperately trying not to stare at him. His footsteps seemed to make very loud thumps until he reached the table where Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting.

“Hi Harry,” Ginny smiled at him prettily.

“Hi Ginny.” Harry reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice and glanced over at Ron and Hermione, who were both poking at their food and not looking at each other. For some reason, Harry felt relieved. Part of him had thought that after their kiss, Ron and Hermione would turn into Ron and Lavender, but luckily, the only thing that appeared to have changed was that there was no bickering.

Suddenly, Hermione pushed her plate away and stood up.

“Where’re you going?” Ron asked.

Hermione seemed physically unable to look at him. “I have to go and work on something. Harry, would you meet me later in the empty charms classroom?”

“Sure,” Harry said.

“What for?” Ron and Ginny asked together, but Hermione acted as though she hadn’t heard.

“I’m going to lock it, just give a knock.”

“Can’t I use ‘alohomora’?”

Hermione gave a little smile and met his eyes for just a second. “Oh Harry, I must know some decent locking spells by now.” And then she walked out, her brown hair swaying.

Harry wondered what she was up to. Part of him wanted to finish his pumpkin juice and follow her that instant.

“I think I might have messed things up,” Ron said miserably.

“Messed what up?” Harry asked.

Ron jerked his head in the direction Hermione had just gone. “Ever since…she’ll barely look at me. And I don’t know what to say.” He sighed. “I wish I hadn’t done it. I just want things to go back to normal. One more day of this awkwardness and I’m going to go spare.”

Harry brightened. Going back to normal seemed like an excellent idea. Then he wouldn’t have to wonder why Ron kissing Hermione had bothered him so much. He wouldn’t have to feel strangely guilty when he noticed that Hermione was pretty, that she was beautiful even, and brilliant-

“Don’t give up,” Ginny said with surprising force. But she wasn’t looking at Ron at all. She was staring after Hermione with an odd expression on her face. “After all, you’ve liked her for ages, haven’t you?”

Harry watched Ron closely. Ron’s brow was furrowing, and he was pressing his lips together and moving them from side to side. This was obviously Ron deep in thought.

“Well haven’t you?” Ginny demanded.

Ron gave a start. “I don’t know; I guess so, I mean, I don’t really like the idea of her snogging Krum…”

Harry thought that Ron sounded doubtful at best. He was surprised. After all, Ron had always blown a gasket whenever it seemed that Hermione was dating someone.

“Of course you didn’t; you like her,” Ginny said soothingly. “That’s why you kissed her last night.”

Harry was faintly annoyed with Ginny for reminding them all of the kiss, but Ron said, “I don’t know…kissing her, it wasn’t like snogging Lavender…” Ron’s brow began to furrow again, and his pursed lips began to move back and forth….Harry was watching so closely that his eyes were becoming dry from not blinking, and Ginny’s face looked like she was watching a train wreck.

Ron’s face suddenly released into an expression that was part humor, and part horror. “It felt like I was kissing you!” He exclaimed, pointing at Ginny.

Ginny turned a very deep shade of red, and then she threw a dinner roll at him, which bounced off of his forehead. Harry couldn’t help laughing, but Ginny seemed deadly serious when she hissed, “That’s an awful thing to say! Don’t you know how much Hermione likes you? She goes on and on about you…She’d be heartbroken…you can’t ever tell her that!”

Harry’s laughter died in his throat. Did Hermione really go on and on about Ron? When? Certainly not these days; she and Ginny were barely speaking. Unless they had talked last night in their dormitory…

“Settle down, I wasn’t going to tell her,” Ron was saying, embarrassed. Ginny’s reaction was getting a lot of attention from the other tables.

“Well I certainly hope not, because she’s crazy about you,” Ginny concluded.

“I know,” Ron said, but Harry thought that Ron was giving him a strangely furtive look.

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

“Hermione?” Harry knocked on another door. He hadn’t asked which empty charms classroom Hermione would be in, because he hadn’t realized that there would be so many, but then the fourth door shivered and clicked, and Harry walked inside.

Hermione was in the center of the classroom. All of the tables had been pushed to the far outsides, and she was pacing around a cauldron with an open book in her hand. The cauldron was billowing white smoke in a steady stream.

Harry stepped closer and tried to peer inside, but could see nothing but white.

“There’s nothing in there yet,” Hermione said, reading his mind. “I’m just preparing it. Honestly I wanted to get your opinion before I started.”

“Well,” Harry said curiously, “What’s it going to be?”

Hermione’s book clapped shut and her eyes were positively sparkling. “I’m trying to conjure a talisman for you.” She glanced over Harry’s shoulder towards the door. “But you can’t say anything…technically I’m not supposed to do it…I’m not even supposed to know HOW to do it, we aren’t scheduled to really learn conjuring talismans until next term.”

Harry couldn’t say that he was surprised. She always mastered things weeks and weeks before anyone else. “You’ve always been good at conjuring,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ve never really tried it.” He hesitated a moment, not wanting to sound stupid, and then said casually, “What is it anyway?”

“Well it’s…” she paused and stared into the cauldron. “It’s making something out of nothing, really…or in this case, making something new out of a bunch of existing somethings…”

“Like transfiguration,” Harry suggested.

“Not exactly. We’re not changing existing things into something new, we’re using existing things to influence the something new that we’re making.”

Harry’s brow started to furrow a lot like Ron’s. “You’re getting confusing. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Hermione looked insulted, but then gave a sheepish smile and said, “I’ve never had a problem before. I’ve been conjuring since first year. It’s kind of- well, it’s really the only magic that I’m naturally good at…”

“Don’t be ridiculous; you’re good at everything. You Apparated before everyone else…you were the first to master nonverbal spells, and you were the best one in the DA…really the only thing you stink at is flying,” Harry said, trying to think of things that she had conjured. “Of course! I saw you conjure those canaries! And my shoe!” He looked down with a grin. “I guess I was just taking your conjuring for granted.”

“Amongst other things,” Hermione mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing. Now let me tell you what I’m trying to do.” Hermione reached into her robes and pulled out a small bottle, filled with what appeared to be nothing more than a bright blue glow. “I’ve managed to extract the spell from the Marauder’s Map-”

“You broke the Marauder’s Map!” Harry’s mouth dropped open.

“I’m going to put the spell back,” Hermione said, wrinkling her nose at him as though that should be obvious. “But we need it. I’m trying to conjure a talisman that will act like the Marauder’s Map, only for horcruxes.”

“Hermione that’s brilliant!”

She lowered her eyes and blushed. “Well, you gave me the idea, in Pitcairn forest, you said that you wished we had a Marauder’s Map that worked everywhere.”

Now Harry was blushing too. “You really listen to what I say, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Only there’s one problem. The spell from the map isn’t enough…I also need a horcrux.”

Harry thought quickly. “The locket was a fake, and Dumbledore blasted the ring into oblivion, as far as I know, but-” his eyes lit up, “maybe Dobby still has the diary! Will that work? I mean, it was destroyed, in the Chamber of Secrets…”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed as she considered it. “It might. Could you get it from him?”

“Sure.”

“Terrific. But there’s one other thing that you need to do today.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you remember how I told you that my map spell was written just for me?”

Harry nodded. “I was impressed.”

Hermione smiled. “Yes, well, I want this talisman to work the same way. I don’t want just anyone to be able to get their hands on it.”

“Good idea. So how do you do that?”

“Cast your patronus into the cauldron.”

Harry drew his wand and focused very hard; the Patronus was still a challenge. Thinking about happy things was never that easy for him. But after just a second, he said, “Expecto Patronum,” and his silver stag burst forth. In one graceful moment, it had leapt into the billows of smoke and disappeared.

“That should be long enough,” Hermione said after a minute or two. Harry raised his wand and the stag jumped back out of the cauldron and returned to him in a wispy, silver thread.

“Don’t you think you should do it too? What if I-” Harry paused, realizing that he had almost just said, ‘what if I die’.

When he looked up, Hermione was wearing a stricken expression, but she quickly recovered and said, “What if you want me to call up the map while we’re looking for one of the horcruxes?”

“Right.”

Hermione nodded, and cast her patronus wordlessly; a shining otter bounded out of her wand and raced across the floor. Harry tried not to laugh as it scrambled comically into the cauldron. “All right,” she said, after she had recalled her otter. “Now it’s ready for both of us. We just need the diary from Dobby. And Harry,” she said sternly. “Make sure that you pay him for it.”

“Yes Hermione,” Harry said in the same tone that reluctant children often say ‘yes ma’am.’ They started to walk towards the door. Harry glanced at her from the corner of his eye. He wanted to ask about Ron, but didn’t quite dare. “So…how’s Buckbeak doing?”

“Oh, he’s nearly recovered already! Madam Pomfrey was down at Hagrid’s this morning, and she almost healed the wound, even though she kept saying things like ‘I’m not a MagiVet, if this hippogriff dies I won’t be held responsible!’” Hermione smiled and Harry chuckled. “But there’s still the question of lasting effects. We don’t know what that thing was that bit him…if it’s like a werewolf…”

“He’ll be okay Hermione,” Harry said, instinctively placing a hand on her back.

“I know… he’s restless already…Hagrid had to tie him up; he kept trying to fly…I think I might take him out later.”

“Maybe I’ll come down to visit him with you,” Harry said.

“Oh Harry would you?” Hermione said, clapping her hands. “He’d really like that.”

“Sure I will. After all, he’s saved my life what, three times now in the last four months?”

Hermione gave Harry a quick hug that made him shiver. And then they left the classroom, Hermione casting a silent locking charm over her shoulder, and Harry wondering what was happening to him that a girl who had hugged him all his life was suddenly making him shiver.

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

Harry and Ron were walking back from Divination, yawning. It hadn’t been a particularly interesting lesson. Professor Firenze had droned on and on about the position of one star juxtaposed with another, explaining the cosmic influence of gravity and the earth’s rotation as it related to predicting the future. He noted that when Orion was in the southern sky there was a great propensity of false prophecies, except if the seer happened to be in the South China Sea…

“So many stars,” Harry said listlessly.

“Enough to make you SEE stars,” Ron said dizzily, but Harry didn’t know what he was complaining about, Ron had snored through half of the class.

“I suppose we’re lucky,” said Harry. “We could’ve been stuck with Professor Trelawney.” From what they had heard, Professor Trelawney’s class to the first and second years pretty much consisted of her falling to her knees and moaning, “doomed, doomed, we’re all going to die! Save yourselves!” She would then rise up and go to each child, predicting their futures: “Dead” “Maimed” “Maybe just disfigured, but still bad,” and then leave the room.

“Well at least Trelawney isn’t a homework freak,” Ron grumbled, shaking the rolls of parchment beneath his arm. “If I have to do one more star chart….but what do you care? Ginny does all of your bloody homework anyway.”

“You’re the one who suggested it!”

Ron frowned and clammed up, just as they ran into Hermione on her way back from Arithmancy.

“Hi Hermione,” said Harry. “How was Arithmancy?”

“Not much homework today,” she answered, and actually sounded a little bit disappointed.

“How can you be sad about that?” Ron exclaimed, exasperated. “I mean, we all know you’re a little bit cuckoo for the assignments, but with the load we’ve been getting this year-”

“A little bit cuckoo?!” Hermione hissed, her eyes darkening, “Just because I LIKE to learn things-”

“Ha, ‘like to learn things’, that’s the understatement of the century,” Ron sneered, giving Harry a light elbow in the ribs. “Can you believe it? Hermione Granger ‘likes to learn things’!”

Hermione’s face was becoming very red. “If you hate homework so much, why don’t you just get your sister to do it?! She does everyone else’s anyway!” And then she turned on her heel, and stormed off down the hall.

Ron peered after her with a huge grin on his face. “Did you see that?” he asked Harry. “That was great!”

“You and Hermione arguing,” Harry said, confused. “That was great?”

“Yeah! Didn’t it feel like things were back to normal?”

Harry started walking again, feeling something hopeful flutter in his chest. “So…you aren’t dating then?”

Ron was thoughtful. “Well, I don’t know- I’ve been talking to Luna a lot-”

“Luna?” Harry asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Ron said defensively. “What’s wrong with Luna?”

“Nothing! I like Luna.”

“Me too,” Ron smiled, “She’s a complete wacko, and it’s great…and talking to her, I’ve realized what I like best about me and Hermione…it’s the way we are together, the fighting and stuff, it’s the best part…so if we’re going to go out, that’s how I want it to be.”

Harry stopped walking and grabbed Ron by the arm. “Listen, you can’t just do that, do you understand? You can’t have it both ways…you can’t date Hermione and still treat her like the twin sister you’ve never had, don’t you get it?” Harry knew that his voice was becoming louder, but what Ron had said had made him so angry that he couldn’t help it. “All the bickering might be fun for you, but it hurts her feelings Ron-”

“What are you talking about? No it doesn’t-”

“And now I find out you’re talking to Luna on the side-”

“I can talk to Luna!”

“That’s not the point-”

Ron crossed his arms and looked at Harry very carefully. “Then tell me Harry. Just what IS the point?”

Harry looked away. Why had he let himself get so upset? If they wanted to bicker, it was their business…except that it was starting to feel as though it was his business as well, that Hermione was his business and his business alone-Harry pushed that thought out of his mind. It was a miracle that Ron had been all right with his dating Ginny…if he found out that Harry was having wrong thoughts about Hermione…well, it’d take more than just a miracle to save their friendship.

He glanced back up at Ron, who was still watching him. Maybe I’m wrong, he thought, because it’s not like it was with Ginny…I don’t want to strangle Ron like I did Dean………..I just want to hit him a little bit, box him around the ears maybe…

“Did you hear that?” Ron whispered suddenly. “Someone just said your name.”

“That’s nothing new,” Harry said glumly.

“It sounded like McGonagall,” Ron said, and began to creep along the wall to where the hallway met another corridor. “Wish we had extendable ears,” Ron whispered when they reached it.

“I refuse to believe it,” Professor McGonagall was saying to someone. “No. I won’t hear of it.”

“We’d be fools not to consider the possibility,” said a voice that Harry recognized as Professor Lupin.

There was a long pause before Professor McGonagall spoke again. “I just can’t believe that…Harry Potter is NOT a horcrux,” and Harry and Ron had to strain to hear her now; her voice had dropped to a hissing whisper. “To think that he’s the one who will save us, and that he’ll have to die….that we’ll have to kill him…No. It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” said a new voice, and that was Tonks. “It’s straight bloody awful, and I hope it’s not true, but-”

“It’s not true, and until you have evidence to the contrary, I won’t hear any more about it.”

They could hear Professor McGonagall’s footsteps as she stalked away in the opposite direction.

“Oh Remus,” they heard Tonks say after a few seconds. “I hope we’re wrong.”

And then Ron dragged Harry away down the hall.

“They’re professors,” Ron muttered angrily as they walked. “You’d think they’d know how to use silencio…”

But Harry barely heard him.

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

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat quietly at a corner table. Ron had just told Hermione and Ginny what they had overheard, since Harry seemed unable to form words. Upon hearing the news, Ginny’s eyes welled with tears and she threw herself into Harry’s arms.

“Harry, Harry,” was all she kept saying, as he gently patted her back.

“Well I don’t believe it for a second,” Ron said, not sounding so sure. “Lupin and Tonks have got to be off their rockers. Harry can’t be a horcrux…Can he Hermione?”

Harry looked across at Hermione, who had been staring at him, wide eyed and unblinking. She was as white as a sheet.

“I don’t know anything about horcruxes, Ron,” she said, without taking her eyes off Harry. “I don’t know how they’re made…or any of their properties…and there’s nothing in the library. Not even in the Restricted Section.”

“Is that all you are?” Ginny demanded, extracting herself from Harry’s shoulder to glare at Hermione, who lowered her eyes. “Books? Look, we have to find out- If Harry’s a horcrux-” she turned to him, her green eyes glittering. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to train tomorrow,” Hermione interjected, her tone even and businesslike. “So I’m going to bed.”

Ginny watched her go with an expression of horror. “How can she sleep?” she asked incredulously. “You’re going to have to die and it’s like she doesn’t even care!”

“Pipe down, Ginny,” Ron said quietly, as Hermione’s feet disappeared up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. “That’s not what she means.”

***********

The next day, Harry somehow made it through classes, and was rewarded for his diligence by loads of homework. Twenty inches of parchment on the uses of dragon’s blood for Potions, and he was informed by Professor Lupin that he was to begin taking private Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons twice a week. And of course, there was another star chart from Firenze.

Harry hardly cared. If he was a horcrux, then what did it matter? What did it matter if he went to class at all? I’m just going to end up dead anyway, he thought as he walked slowly to the Quidditch pitch, where Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were waiting. Harry couldn’t decide how to feel. Part of him wanted to accept it, after all, he realized that this was always the way it might have turned out. That part wanted to save his friends, to save the world…that part wanted to keep fighting.

The other part just wanted to stop. He just wanted to lie down and rest. Death had always been a risk. But now it seemed like the only choice, and it took everything in his heart just to keep his legs moving across the grass.

“What would you like to practice today, Harry?” Hermione asked without looking up from the book she had been reading.

Harry felt a twinge of annoyance. She had been ignoring him all day, and now she wouldn’t even look at him. “I don’t care,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“How about ‘lateo’?” Ron suggested, but Harry shook his head. “Stupefy?”

Harry sighed. “Look, maybe we shouldn’t practice anything today. I’m bogged down with homework, and Professor Lupin is going to take over training me.” Harry looked away from them all. “So we really don’t have to do this any more.”

“It’s ridiculous for you to have all this homework,” Ginny grumbled from where she sat, surrounded by rolls of parchment and open books. “You should be dedicated one hundred percent to your training. You should talk to Professor McGonagall and get her to waiver you out of classes.”

Frankly, Harry didn’t care one way or another, but Hermione suddenly slapped her book down hard against the ground.

“Harry has to go to class,” she said simply.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Not this again. I know that you think there’s nothing more to life but libraries and fresh parchment, but Harry’s got more important things to do.”

“School is important,” Hermione said coolly.

“Don’t you get it?” Ginny exclaimed, standing up and crossing her arms across her chest. “Harry needs to focus on his training-”

“Harry’s always been focused on his training. And he’s always handled school as well.”

Ginny made a frustrated noise in her throat like a strangled cat and spat, “You’re impossible! Why do you have to be such a goody two shoes?”

“Hermione,” Harry said calmly. “Maybe Ginny’s right. Maybe I should be concentrating on what really matters now.” Hermione stared at him with a horrified expression. Then she looked at Ginny, whose face was blazing with triumph, and lowered her eyes. “I’ll go talk to Professor McGonagall,” Harry said flatly.

“I’ll go with you, if you want,” Ginny purred.

“You go right ahead.”

Harry turned sharply. He had never heard Hermione use that tone of voice before. It was cold, and hard, and angry. And she was trembling. He could see it in her arms.

“Hermione, what-”

“Both of you go right ahead!” she shrieked, her expression wild. “Really you’re quite perfect for each other- Harry needs to sacrifice himself and constantly save everyone, and you need to love the hero! It’d be all the better for you if he did sacrifice himself, wouldn’t it? It’d be the perfect end to your tragic, star-crossed story!”

Harry glanced down at Ginny; her eyes had narrowed to slits. “You don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about!” Hermione said shrilly. “And I understand what you don’t! Don’t you get it?! Harry needs to go to classes, he needs to pass his tests, because he has to if he wants to be an Auror, and he will be an Auror, after all of this is over, because he’s not going to die!” Hermione was shaking so badly; Harry wanted to go and steady her, but he was too shocked to move.

“You, both of you, might be ready to accept that Harry’s a horcrux, but I’m not!” She looked at Ginny very directly. “He’s not a horcrux, and if you don’t keep your nose out of this I’m going to break it off!”

Ginny stepped in front of Harry. “I’m his girlfriend!” she screeched, and to Harry’s horror, she drew her wand. “If there’s anyone who needs to keep their nose out of this, it’s you Hermione!”

When Harry looked back at Hermione, she had drawn her wand as well. Things were going from bad to worse. Ron looked like a spectator at a very fast Quidditch match, his head whipping from side to side…except that Quidditch spectators didn’t generally wear such a terrified expression…

“What are you going to do,” Hermione was sneering. “Turn my bogies into bats?”

“I’m going to beat you over the head with a copy of ‘Hogwarts: A History,’ that’s what I’m going to do!” Ginny screeched furiously, and before Harry could say, “Ginny, don’t!”, she had pointed her wand at Hermione and shouted, “rictusempra!”

Harry watched helplessly as a jet of silver light flew towards Hermione, but at the last second, Hermione waved her wand across her body and disappeared. Harry knew that she had used a nonverbal Lateo. She reappeared a moment later and Ginny tried again, this time missing completely.

“Stop running away!” Ginny shouted, getting frustrated, and Hermione stopped directly in front of her and glared.

“What? Not fast enough to catch me? Maybe you should try that bat bogey hex instead, you one trick pony.”

Harry saw Ginny clench and unclench her fists, and Harry quickly grabbed her hand. Ginny looked up at him gratefully and wrapped her hand around his own; she had misunderstood, he had only been trying to keep her from striking Hermione…

“You’re just jealous,” Ginny said haughtily, and Harry was reminded of the tone she used when she was talking about Fleur. “And you’re sick of yourself, ashamed that you’re useless to Harry when it comes to horcruxes…there aren’t any books on the subject…and that’s all you were ever really good at anyway…”

Hermione’s eyes went dark as storm clouds, and then, before Harry could even open his mouth to put and end to this nightmare, she waved her wand in a broad stroke across her chest and sent Ginny flying through the air. Luckily, Ginny’s grip on Harry’s hand hadn’t been too tight, or he might have been tossed right along with her. She landed with a hard thud, and didn’t seem likely to get back up.

“Hey!” Ron said without much conviction. He still couldn’t decide who he should be defending. But he jogged to Ginny’s side, as did Harry, to see if she was badly hurt.

“I think she’s all right, just got the wind knocked out of her,” Ron said, holding her hand and patting her pale cheeks. “What was that spell anyway? Bloody nonverbal spells…they make Hermione a lot more tricky….as if she wasn’t confusing enough to begin with…”

Harry looked back to where Hermione had been standing, but she was no longer there. He stood up and scanned the pitch.

“Hermione? Hermione where are you?” he called out.

“Let’s get Ginny in to Madam Pomfrey,” Ron said, hoisting her limp form off of the ground.

“Right,” said Harry, and they started to walk slowly towards the castle.

But Harry kept looking over his shoulder, wondering where Hermione had got off to.

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

AN: These chapters are getting long, aren’t they? All right, next time we see the aftermath of the catfight, I don’t know if there’ll be another, but you know Ginny will probably be spitting mad for awhile…there will also be some Harry and Hermione bonding in the air…but don’t count Ginny out yet!

On a more somber note, I, and I know many of you, have been horrified by the destruction of Katrina. It’s truly awful, the destruction of that city; it was so incredibly culturally rich, and I really can’t stop thinking of the lives of the survivors. And I know, every time somebody writes these kind of notes, they seem artificial, and self-serving. But seriously, I hope that none of you were affected….and those of us who were not, can’t really even comprehend it…

8. Chapter Eight: The Pitfalls of Love Potions

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Eight: The Pitfalls of Love Potions

Disclaimer: Ergh…too tired to do a disclaimer…

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

“What on earth-!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, as Ron burst through the door carrying a still unconscious Ginny. She motioned to a bed and quickly shooed Ron out of the way as she felt Ginny’s cheeks, which were extremely white.

“She’s out cold,” Ron said, and Madam Pomfrey gave him a severe look. “We were practicing,” he explained hastily, “And Her-I mean- I got a little carried away.” Ron looked sideways at Harry, who nodded at him. They couldn’t let Madam Pomfrey find out that it was Hermione who had hexed Ginny; Hermione would be mortified.

“What kind of hex was it?” Madam Pomfrey asked, as she applied a cool rag to Ginny’s forehead.

“Well-” Ron hesitated. “I don’t know. Like I said, I got a little carried away, doing nonverbal after nonverbal, and then Wham! My sister’s flying through the air.”

“Someone ought to take points from Gryffindor,” Madam Pomfrey grumbled, but neither Harry nor Ron said anything. Points didn’t matter a lick this year, because there was no house cup.

“Is Ginny going to be all right?” Harry asked.

“She just needs some rest. You boys get back to your Common Room.”

Harry stared down at Ginny’s still face. He still couldn’t believe what had happened. Hermione and Ginny….had dueled….and they were dueling over ME, he realized and his eyes widened.

Ron tugged on his sleeve and headed for the door.

“So,” he said quietly to Harry as they left, “Do you want to tell me why my girlfriend just tried to hex your girlfriend’s head off?”

“Ginny’s not my girlfriend,” Harry said tersely, wishing that Ron wouldn’t call Hermione ‘his girlfriend’ either.

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

Harry pushed the last few days out of his mind as he whipped through the sky on his Firebolt. After leaving Ginny, he never made it back to the Common Room, but said goodbye to Ron and went down to the unused Quidditch lockers. He needed to think, something to get his mind off of everything that was happening, and to Harry, that meant flying. He felt much better already, nothing up here but him and clouds, the wind rushing through his ears as he dove and accelerated, spun and curved around wide to fly through the Quidditch pitch, trying to remember the sound of the crowd as he swept past the empty stands.

He pulled his broom to a stop and looked down at the lonely playing field. All of his adventures as a seeker ran quickly through his head: the possessed broom, the rogue bludger, all of the times he had beat Malfoy to the snitch…I’ll probably never play Quidditch again, he realized numbly, just before he was almost knocked off of his broom.

“What?!” Harry exclaimed, and whirled angrily, expecting to see Ron, messing around, but instead there was Buckbeak, flapping his wings very hard in order to hover, and on his back, nibbling her lower lip, was Hermione.

Harry couldn’t speak, because the thousand thoughts and questions spinning around in his head had suddenly run into each other, forming a clog. Hermione didn’t say anything either. She was just sitting there with a rather ashamed look on her face.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked.

“I needed to think,” she said, looking down and toying with Buckbeak’s feathers.

“Me too,” Harry said. They sat there for a few minutes more, she on her hippogriff and he on his broom, neither one saying much. Then Hermione smiled hesitantly.

“Follow the leader?” she suggested uncertainly, and Harry barely had time to grin and nod before she nudged Buckbeak forward very fast, racing past him and dipping into a dive.

Harry dove instantly after them, and he saw her look over her shoulder just before Buckbeak tucked his wings and freefell towards the ground. Harry could hardly catch his breath, the wind was so strong against his face…had the hippogriff lost his mind? They were going to crash….but at the last second, Buckbeak unfurled his wings and skimmed across the grass, and Harry too, pulled up just in time, the end of his broomstick kicking up dust and dirt. He heard Hermione laughing and accelerated past her.

“A hippogriff can’t beat a Firebolt!” Harry shouted at her.

“Well, maybe not any old hippogriff,” she shouted back, “but this hippogriff can!” And then Buckbeak took off like a shot, bounding higher into the air, unbelievably fast. Harry stayed right on his tail, listening to the flapping beat of his wings as they all streaked across the sky.

“Woo hoo!” Harry shouted as he followed the hippogriff through the trees, dodging the trunks, watching him glide down to the ground only to leap back up again, matching him dive for dive and corkscrew for corkscrew. They even did a loop de loop.

He could have passed them at any time, of course.

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

“That was incredible,” Harry gasped when they were on the ground. Hermione was just sliding off of Buckbeak’s back in the middle of a circle of stones, on the very northernmost portion of the Hogwart’s grounds. She gave the hippogriff a tidbit of something from her pocket, which he ate, and then clicked his beak and trotted a short distance away before flopping down onto the grass, obviously exhausted.

“You let him win on purpose,” Hermione smiled. “I think he needed that.” She was staring at Buckbeak’s hindquarter, which was oddly puckered around the healed bite. There appeared to be reddish fur growing around the area.

“Hermione,” Harry said, alarmed. “The fur-”

“Don’t worry,” Hermione shook her head. “Hagrid’s had a MagiVet out to see him, and he thinks that it’s just a reaction to the bite. Nothing more. Just kind of a- funny scar.”

“Well, I know all about funny scars,” Harry said, relieved, and almost in a jovial mood. Flying always took his mind off of things. But beside him, Hermione still seemed troubled.

“Harry, is Ginny all right?” She was looking away from him with a very embarrassed expression on her face.

“Yes,” he said. “Ginny’s fine. But Hermione, you really shouldn’t have.”

“I know,” she said, but Harry thought he heard a little bit of defiance in her voice. “I’m sorry. It was a foolish, stupid thing-”

“Especially after all of your talk about me and Malfoy-” He stopped. He didn’t really know why he was rubbing that in, he wasn’t in the mood to scold her, and really, part of him did think that Ginny had it coming. But part of him also thought that it was nice to be able to be her conscience, just this once.

“I know,” she moaned, her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I did that! I’m so disappointed in myself!”

She really did look sorry. “Don’t be too disappointed,” Harry said gently, leaning his broomstick against one of the rocks and sitting down. “Some of the things she was saying to you…they were pretty ugly.”

“Really?” Hermione said, surprised. She sat down on the rock beside him.

“Yes really. And I hope that you know, you’re a lot more than just books and cleverness. I’ve been trying to tell you that since first year.”

Hermione blushed, and Harry smiled softly, remembering that first adventure through the trapdoor, and his very first hug. They hadn’t known then that those things would be the first of many.

“Why did you come out flying?” Hermione asked quietly.

“I needed a break. To think. All of this business, with Voldemort, it was starting to weigh on my nerves…though I suppose it should be very run of the mill actually-”

“You’re not a horcrux, Harry.”

Harry blinked at her. She sounded so sure. So resolute. “How do you know?”

Hermione was staring at Buckbeak with a stony look on her face. She had her bushy hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a few strands had come loose during their chase. He couldn’t help noticing that she looked very pretty. He wanted to reach up and tuck the loose strands behind her ear.

“Even if you are a horcrux,” she said seriously. “We’ll find ways around it. All right?”

Harry nodded, even though he had no idea what those ways might be. He sighed. He wished they were back up flying together instead of down on the ground where things were real, but from the way Buckbeak was snoring, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

“What was that spell you hit Ginny with, anyway?” Harry asked, trying to lighten the subject.

“I don’t know, actually,” Hermione said, blushing again. “I just got so mad; and then she was flying through the air….That’s the trouble with nonverbal spells, they’re harder to remember, after the fact.”

“Well, whatever it was, it was awfully good,” Harry said, and then “What?” as Hermione was looking at him very curiously.

“Well, I thought that- I thought that you’d be-”

“You thought that I’d be mad?”

Hermione nodded. And she had a point. Why wasn’t he angry? Ginny was lying in a bed in the hospital wing and he was out swooping after Buckbeak. Shouldn’t he be by her side when she woke up? I’ll get her some flowers later, Harry thought absently, and then pushed her out of his mind.

“Is Ginny really your girlfriend again?”

Harry looked at Hermione, exasperated, as though she should know he was trying not to think about Ginny. But Hermione was watching Buckbeak again, and wringing her hands softly in her lap. She was also nibbling on her lower lip in that thoughtful, worrisome way that she had.

“No,” Harry said gently. “I broke up with her. I told you that.”

“Right,” Hermione said without looking at him, “Because you wanted to keep her safe.”

“Yes,” said Harry, although he wasn’t sure anymore if that was the only reason. Flying with Hermione just now had been better than any of the moments he had spent with Ginny, better than any of their kisses, or any of their time by the lake. He glanced over at Hermione; they were sitting so close…he could just reach out to her…touch her hand…her face… “Ron isn’t mad, either,” Harry said, feeling guilty.

“Oh,” Hermione said, and smiled. “oh, well that’s a relief.”

“Yeah,” he said, and sounded unconvincing, even to himself. But what was going on? Why did he suddenly feel guilty being alone with Hermione? Why was an innocent hug from a girl who’d been hugging him since he was eleven suddenly giving him shivers?

It’s because she and Ron are dating, he explained to himself. I’m just feeling on the outs…and come to think of it, he did feel a little bit on the outs. They were a couple now, and where did that leave him? Would Ron become more important to Hermione than he was? The thought filled him with a surprising surge of jealousy. Maybe they would become so involved with each other that they would forget about him completely….

“No one’s ever said that they loved me,” Harry said softly.

“What?” Hermione asked, turning to him wearing a look of disbelief. “No one? Ever?”

Harry shook his head. He didn’t know why he was telling her this, except that he had never told anyone before, and the possibility of being a horcrux brought it to the forefront of his mind.

“I never realized- I thought that someone must have, surely-” Hermione looked at him searchingly and the concern in her eyes made his heart start to beat faster. “But you know, don’t you Harry?”

Harry felt hope leap into his throat. He found that he couldn’t move, or breathe, or even blink.

“You know that….that I…That Ron and I- we-”

“Yes, I know,” Harry said, dropping his eyes. Ron and I. That was it then. He felt very stupid, and said in a clipped voice, “You’re my friends. But it would be nice to have something else too….to be something else….to be someone’s everything…” Harry trailed off. “I want to have that, before I die, you know?”

Hermione punched him hard in the arm. “You’re not a horcrux,” she snapped.

“Ow! You’re starting to be very violent, you know that?” Harry said, and then he noticed the tears standing in her eyes. “Hermione, what is it?”

Her lip trembled and she opened her mouth, but only a very small squeak came out.

“Hermione-” Harry said, and placed his hand over hers. It was ice cold. “Hermione what’s that matter?”

“You should be with her!” she exclaimed suddenly, and with that declaration, the tears fell out of her eyes and she began to cry in earnest.

“What?”

“Ginny- you should be with her…you deserve that….she’s in danger anyway, really, we all are- you don’t have to be noble, it won’t make a difference,” she stammered, trying to regain control of her voice but in the end that only made her cry harder.

“Hermione please stop crying,” Harry said, horrified. “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no it’s fine,” she said, still shaking, and Harry placed an arm around her. She appeared to be calming down, to his relief. He felt awful, making her feel so bad for him. She stared at Buckbeak again, and then squeezed her eyes shut. “Why shouldn’t you love her?” she said, trying very hard to keep her voice strong. “She’s beautiful…and….and she does that ‘bat bogey’ thing and….and….” Hermione paused and searched her brain. “Help me out here, Harry.”

“Hermione,” Harry said in a careful voice. “You want me to be with Ginny…”

“You love her,” Hermione said, and began to cry again, then hugged him desperately. “I want you to have that.”

Harry held her until she quieted, and then she pulled away and looked at him so intently that he was sure she could see right through. Her hands were on either side of his face. She glanced up at his scar, and then dropped her eyes to his lips.

Harry felt his heart flutter like it had wings. That warm, tingling feeling was back in his chest and he was starting to feel dizzy. He placed his hand hesitantly on her waist. Don’t be a dope, his mind cautioned, she wants you to be with Ginny…she’s dating Ron…..

I don’t care, Harry realized suddenly.

“I’m sorry nobody ever told you they loved you, Harry,” Hermione said resolutely, snapping him back into reality. She pulled away and shut her eyes very tight, then wiped them dry. “But it’s obvious, to me at least, that they did. Even if they never said it.”

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

Harry returned from his Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson exhausted. Professor Lupin had drilled him on every disarming spell known to wizard kind, so intensely that Harry was actually relieved every time that his wand was knocked from his hand, as it gave him a break to walk over and retrieve it. As he was leaving, he heard Professor Lupin say, “Blocking spells next time, Harry,” which of course meant that he would have to run around the room while Lupin tried to hex his head off. He wasn’t looking forward to it, although he also couldn’t wait to show off Hermione’s Lateo.

Harry exchanged pleasantries with the Fat Lady and then pulled himself through the portrait hole, thinking of his nice warm bed and feather pillow. He paused when he heard Hermione’s voice.

“Would you like me to look over that for you, Ron?”

Harry looked over at the pair of them where they sat by the fire, and tried not to frown. It had been just one day since he and Hermione had flown together, but since then, she’d been almost unnaturally pleasant to Ron, which was evidenced by the bewildered look that was now constantly on his face.

Ron was wearing it just then, actually, as he handed over his homework. “Oi, Harry! How was your lesson?”

“Long,” Harry said, walking over and plopping down next to Ron. Hermione it seemed, was ignoring him.

“This looks very good Ron,” she said brightly. “Except that it’s ‘their’ and not ‘there’, and amber is used to purify things, not fix them.”

“But I did the rest right?” Ron looked amazed.

“Well,” Hermione tried very hard to keep her smile broad. “Mostly right…it’s much better than last week…um, good job Ron.”

“Er, thanks,” Ron said suspiciously.

“Maybe tomorrow I can help you on your transfiguration report, what subject did you draw?”

And that, for Ron, was apparently the final straw. “What the bloody hell’s gotten into you Hermione?”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked innocently.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Ron accused. “This “Miss Nice” routine- everyone’s noticing it…me, Luna…I bet Harry’s noticed it too, haven’t you Harry?”

Harry looked at Hermione, who was beginning to blush and refused to meet his eyes.

“It’s not a routine,” she said, and Harry could tell that she was trying very hard to remain calm. “I’m just trying to help you…I’m just trying to be nice!”

“Yeah? Well cut it out! It’s just not normal!”

“I’m not nice normally?” Hermione said shrilly.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, waiting to hear whatever idiotic thing Ron would say next as though he was waiting for an explosion.

“No!- Well, sure, but not like this, it’s weird,” Ron said, backpedaling.

“Oh, so now I’m ‘weird’ am I?” Hermione fumed, gathering up her books. “I’m going to bed. See if I ever try to help YOU again!”

“What’s with her, anyway?” Ron grumbled as Hermione disappeared up the stairs in a blur of brown hair and robes. But he didn’t give Harry time to answer, just gathered up his scattered homework and disappeared up the stairs as well.

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

A day later he heard from Neville that Ginny was finally awake and was asking for him. When he arrived in the hospital wing holding a bouquet of tricolor daisies, she was sitting up and turned in bed, absently staring out the window.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked, setting the flowers on the table.

“Fine, for someone who was just hexed by one of their friends,” she quipped, cocking her eyebrow, and then clapped her hands and bounced when she saw the flowers. “Oh Harry! They’re lovely! But they need water, and a vase!” She motioned with her hand. “Dobby! Would you get a vase and some water for these flowers?”

“Dobby?” Harry wondered aloud, just as the little tomato-nosed house elf trotted into view and said, “Yes Miss!”

“He’s been helping Madam Pomfrey now,” Ginny explained. “I think there was some trouble with him in the kitchens. He wasn’t getting along with the other elves…probably because someone was putting ideas about unionizing into his head…”

Harry ignored her. “Well good, because I need to see him. Hermione needs something for her-”

“Hermione?” Ginny exclaimed, her eyes becoming fierce. “You’re still helping her?”

“She’s helping me,” Harry corrected her, “to find the horcruxes.”

“Harry,” Ginny said with an incredulous look on her face, “she HEXED me!”

Harry sat there dumbly. He didn’t know what to say. He tried to make himself look as small as possible, and scanned the room for a way to change the subject.

“There are loads of other people here that you could get to help you,” Ginny continued. “Professors, other students…I don’t see why it’s always got to be her.”

Because it’s always been her, Harry thought to himself, but said to Ginny, “Look, she’s really sorry about what happened; now that you’re awake I’m sure she’ll come and tell you so herself.” Ginny just rolled her eyes and reclined back against her pillows.

“Harry Potter sir!” Dobby exclaimed, running into the room with a sloshing vase.

“Dobby! It’s good to see you. I have something to ask-”

“Harry Potter has need of Dobby?” Dobby said excitedly, stuffing the flowers into the vase.

“Yes,” Harry smiled. “Do you remember the diary I gave to you…well, that Lucius Malfoy gave to you?”

Dobby blushed with joy. “Yes,” he said wistfully. “It contained the clothes…it made Dobby free!”

Harry couldn’t help grinning. “Do you still have it?”

The elf nodded.

“May I have it?” Harry asked, and then he remembered Hermione’s warning. “For ten galleons?”

“Harry Potter sir may have it for free,” Dobby said. “But ten galleons is also very nice-” and then he snapped his fingers and disappeared, presumably to fetch the diary. In a moment he was back, and placed it in Harry’s hands. Harry reached into his pocket and paid the house elf, who put the money into the sock he was wearing on his head and bowed, then trotted away.

“What do you need THAT for?” Ginny asked, looking fearfully at the diary.

Harry quickly regretted asking for it in her presence. He hadn’t thought about how she might feel seeing it again. He tucked it into his robes. “I’m sorry, Ginny,” he said sincerely. “I wasn’t thinking-”

“It’s all right,” she said stiffly, but she seemed much better with the book out of sight.

“When can you- well, when can you get out of here?”

Ginny smiled. “Madam Pomfrey says I can leave today!”

Harry glanced down. “Good,” he said softly, and then looked up at her. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned forward and kissed her.

“Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed, and Harry turned. Hermione was standing in the doorway, holding what appeared to be a basket of sweets wrapped in gold ribbon.

“Would you like me to come back later?” Hermione asked, taking a step backwards.

“No!” Ginny said, grabbing Harry’s hand. “You can come in.”

Harry looked at Ginny. She looked like the cat who had just mauled the canary. He looked at Hermione, who was beaming down at Ginny with an apology in her eyes. Harry saw her glance down at his and Ginny’s linked hands, and saw her gaze drift to the flowers on the table. He thought that for a moment she looked regretful.

But this is what she wanted, Harry thought. This is the way it’s supposed to be, me with Ginny and Hermione with Ron. One big happy family.

He watched Hermione and Ginny talk to each other with forced cheerfulness, and tried to be glad, but couldn’t quite manage it.

*********

Ginny was going to be in the hospital wing until at least dinnertime, so Harry left to go and find Hermione, who had only stayed at Ginny’s bedside for a few minutes, just long enough to deliver the sweets and to apologize profusely. Harry walked quickly down the quiet corridors. He couldn’t wait to find Hermione, to show her the diary, and to tell her how he had paid ten galleons for it. Only she hadn’t told him where she was going. He decided to head for the library, which was the most likely place, and ran into Ron and Luna.

“Hey Harry!” Ron said.

“Hi Ron, hi Luna. Have you guys seen Hermione?”

“Yes,” Luna said in her dreamy voice. “She was headed down towards the Potions classrooms.”

“Yeah,” Ron added. “Professor Oddburg is her new best friend.”

“Thanks,” Harry said quickly, turning towards the Potions classrooms and then doubling back and reaching into his pockets. “Hey Ron, Ginny wanted me to give these to you.” He handed him several packages of chocolate frogs.

“Thanks Harry! Here, Luna, do you like chocolate frogs?”

“I prefer chocolate three-toed mooktoos, actually,” she said, turning up her nose.

Ron burst out laughing and looked at Harry. “She’s completely nuts!” He grinned, and Harry looked at him, stunned, until Luna said,

“It’s all right, Harry. I think that Ron likes nuts. You’d better go find Hermione,” she added.

“Okay, I’ll see you guys later,” Harry said uncertainly, and then hurried off down the hall. He vaguely wondered what Ron was doing spending so much time with Luna, but the thought didn’t stay with him for long; he was too busy thinking of what Hermione might say when he showed her the diary. And would it even work? After all, the bit of Voldemort’s soul had been eradicated in the Chamber of Secrets. It wasn’t even a horcrux anymore really…just a shell.

Harry counted off empty potions classroom after empty potions classroom. He was starting to wish he had consulted the Marauder’s Map. Except that it doesn’t work anymore, Harry remembered. Hermione borrowed the locator spell from it.

There was only one classroom left in the hallway, and Harry had almost given up hope. He barely glanced into the room, expecting it to be as empty as the rest; when he saw Hermione inside he had to do a double take.

She was standing with her back to him, clearly making some sort of potion. On the table before her was a clear tumbler filled with red, fizzing liquid. She was surrounded by empty vials, some of which were still emitting wisps of smoke from whatever they had contained. Harry sniffed the air curiously. It smelled very strongly of roses. He took a quiet step into the room and looked closer.

The liquid in the vial was swirling excitedly, enticingly, making Harry’s mouth water. He had no doubt that whatever the potion was, it was wonderful. It was such a lovely shade of pinkish red…it had to taste like raspberries…or maybe strawberries…and honey…

Hermione was holding something listlessly in her hand, and Harry heard her sigh and wipe at her eyes. She lifted her hand, and he could see that the item she was holding was actually a photo of Ron. She stared at it for a moment, and then dropped it into the tumbler. Harry blinked as he saw Ron’s face, waving and smiling, float to the bottom and dissolve in a haze of red fizz. The room was suddenly filled with the sound of Ron’s laughter.

Harry’s mind suddenly cleared. It was love potion. And she had just put a picture of Ron into it. His mouth opened to say “Stop!” or, “What are you doing!?” but he didn’t have time.

Hermione had raised the tumbler to her lips.

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

AN: Yes, the hippogriff theory never dies. Because for all of her snide remarks about “Witherwings” and “hippogriff tattoos”, JKR still has Buckbeak save Harry’s butt in the end. Haha! Not even she can escape it!

Thank you reviewers for continuing to be entertaining, and witty, and wittily entertaining. And for continuing to amaze me with your careful reading. Already you’ve pointed out that Ginny’s eyes are brown, not green, and that the boys can’t take Divination because they sucked it up on their OWLs. Dang it you guys are good. And apparently, I’m not.

Sorry about the cliffhanger, next time we’ll see just what Hermione was up to, and I’m pretty sure that the horcrux hunt begins. I think there’s just two more short chapters, and an epilogue…

9. Chapter Nine: Hermione's OTHER Secret

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Nine: Hermione’s OTHER Secret

Disclaimer: It’s four thirty in the a.m, and I am not JK Rowling.

So we left off last time with Hermione’s love potion at her lips….

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

“Expelliarmus!”

The clear tumbler flew from Hermione’s hand and dashed against the floor, shattering into pieces. Harry wasted no time in getting to her; she was kneeling over the spilled potion and fluttering her hands around it, shaking her head.

“Hermione, get away from it,” Harry ordered, taking her by the arm. “Get away from it!” The red liquid was evaporating quickly, fizzing up bubbles in the shape of little jagged hearts, and as each one popped and disappeared, it made a noise that sounded like Ron’s laughter, and yet not like Ron’s laughter at all. It sounded malicious, and tricky. Harry couldn’t believe that only moments before he had been entranced by the beauty of it.

“Oh,” Hermione was moaning regretfully, “That took hours to make! Now look at it! It’s useless, and I’m out of powdered unicorn horn…I can’t just go back to Professor Oddburg again-”

Harry looked at her as though she’d gone mad. How could she consider making it again? “Hermione, what were you doing?!”

Her mouth dropped open and she blinked at him as if she were just realizing that he was there. “I-” she stammered, brushing off her robes and quickly pointing her wand down at the mess, which promptly disappeared. “Well it was a potion, obviously-”

“And you were just going to drink it?”

“No, I-” She was looking away from him, her nose slightly in the air, trying to act as though nothing were amiss. “It was- just an experiment, really-”

“That was a love potion,” Harry said darkly. “I saw the hearts. And I saw what you put into it.”

Hermione was silent, wringing her hands and staring at the floor like a little girl who had been caught in the cookie jar.

“It was a potion to make someone fall in love with Ron,” Harry said. “And you were going to drink it…Why Hermione?”

She just stood there, wearing a slight frown.

“Say something!” Harry exploded at her.

“It’s none of your business!” she shouted, her eyes shimmering.

“You’re my business!” Harry shouted back, and then for some reason that Harry couldn’t fathom, Hermione began to cry.

“No I’m not.” Hermione put her hands to her face. “Oh Harry,” she groaned weakly. “Why did you have to break that tumbler? If you’d have just let me drink it, everything would be fine…everything would work out perfectly…”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Harry said gently. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Ron-”

Hermione gave a soft, brittle laugh. “What’s going on? Nothing’s going on. Nothing’s changed…”

“Of course it has; he kissed you,” Harry said, forcing the words out of his mouth.

Hermione looked at him levelly. “Yes. He kissed me. That one time and never again since…and even that one time…there was nothing, nothing like there’s supposed to be- Can you imagine what he would say if he knew?”

Considering how much time he’s been spending with Luna, I don’t think he’d say much at all, Harry thought, but said instead, “But I thought- all this time- you and Ron…You canaried him when he snogged Lavender!”

“Well he was being a prat!” Hermione fumed. “I asked him to go to that Christmas party, and he said yes, and then made out with Lavender!”

“But-” Harry said, confused. “You fight constantly…”

“And that is supposed to mean we’re crazy about each other?”

“Well, you were really worried about him after he got poisoned.”

“We were all worried about him, Harry,” Hermione said, her face falling. “I can’t believe you notice all of that, yet you don’t notice-…I’m so tired of this- I just wanted to stop feeling this way-” She fell silent. She looked exhausted, too exhausted to even be embarrassed anymore.

“I don’t notice what?” Harry asked curiously. He took a step forward and she stepped back.

“Look, I won’t do this again,” she said, a tear slipping out of the corner of her eye. “But I don’t want to talk about it, all right?” She turned to go.

“Hermione-” Harry started.

“Let it go, Harry,” she sniffed.

“But can’t you-”

“No!” she shrieked, and ran from the room.

“Hermione wait!” Harry shouted, starting to run after her. And then he heard her scream “Oppugno!” and the in the next minute he was assailed by a flock of little yellow birds, who beat their wings very sincerely against his face, and then flew away after Hermione.

Harry stood in the middle of the Potions classroom, slightly breathless. “She canaried me,” he said, shocked. There was one little yellow bird still sitting on his shoulder. Harry looked at it, awestruck. “Well, she’s not getting away THAT easily!”

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

When Harry got outside he tossed the canary into the air and watched it fly away. He hadn’t found Hermione anywhere inside the castle, and nobody had seemed to have seen where she went.

But he wouldn’t give up; he wanted answers, he wanted to know what was making her act so irrationally. And he also wanted to confront her about her recent use of birds.

As Harry walked towards the pumpkin patch, he heard the very distinct sound of Hermione crying. His feet hesitated just a moment under him and then propelled him forward; she sounded so upset…he had to tell her that he hadn’t really minded about the bird attack…

She was sitting with her back to him, leaning against a pumpkin, and Buckbeak was lying before her with his wings tucked, nipping at her skirts. Harry ducked down quickly behind a nearby tree stump.

“Oh Buckbeak, stop that now,” she said through her sobs, and Harry didn’t quite know why he had felt he should hide, after all, hadn’t he come to talk to her?

“I feel so stupid…and there’s no one but you to listen to me…a hippogriff. But you’re just as good as anyone really, aren’t you?” Hermione was saying fondly. Harry peered out from behind his stump and watched her ruffling Buckbeak’s feathers.

I really shouldn’t be listening to this, Harry thought, and began to creep away.

“Harry,” Hermione said, and he froze on the spot. He was about to say something, to come up with some clever reason as to why he was hidden behind a tree stump, when she said his name again, and said it in such a pained way that he knew she had no idea he was there.

“I was so sure,” she said to the hippogriff, “I was so sure that if I waited, if I was patient…if I stood by him and helped him and….” she sniffled. “I thought that one day, he’d just turn around and see me, really see me, right there where I’ve always been…”

Harry was confused. What was she talking about? Who was she talking about? If she wanted to be with Ron this badly- his brow furrowed. Maybe he had misunderstood the potion.

“But instead he turns and sees Ginny-”

Ginny?! Harry felt his heart begin to pound against his ribs. She was talking about him! He tried very hard not to blink and also not to breathe, as his breathing interfered with how much he could hear.

“Beautiful Ginny Weasley,” Hermione said, and started to cry. Buckbeak nudged her roughly with his head, and she patted him. “I know,” she said, her voice strained, and then she cleared her throat and fluttered her lashes. “Oh look at me, I’m Ginny Weasley, I’m so pretty, with my red hair that I’m constantly flipping about everywhere, of course I’m the perfect girl for The Great Harry Potter! I’ve been possessed by Voldemort! I can make fun of people in really funny ways! I’m good at Quidditch! And look how big I can make your bogies! See how they fly around and attack your face like bats? Big bogey bats?” Hermione struck her fist against the dirt. “Well what if someone doesn’t HAVE any bogies? Does she ever think about that?”

Buckbeak seemed to be nodding in agreement, bobbing his head and blinking slowly.

“Oh,” Hermione said sadly, “I shouldn’t say that…she’s my friend….or at least she was until she turned into such a horribly bad influence on Harry!” She laughed a laugh without humor. “And to think that I encouraged them to be together…I gave her advice on how to get him to notice her! What am I, some kind of idiot?” She shook her head and put her face in her hands. “Buckbeak, what am I going to do?”

And hidden behind his stump, just a few pumpkins away, Harry was wondering the very same thing.

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

Hermione loves me, Harry thought dizzily. Hermione is in love with me!

Those were the only thoughts that passed through his head, all through dinner in the great hall; Ginny must have been very frustrated with him, as he only answered her questions with vague, ‘mm hmms’ and didn’t ask her any questions at all.

They were also the only thoughts in his head as he walked to the library, and the only thoughts in his head when he finally saw Hermione, who seemed completely normal, after exchanging one awkward smile with him. But the tone of the thoughts, which had been jubilant, if a little confused, changed, when he saw Ron.

“There you are,” Ron said as he returned to the table with another book. “Hermione, Harry was looking for you earlier, did he find you?”

Hermione stared very hard at her open book. “Erm, yes, he found me,” she muttered.

“Yes, I found her,” Harry added redundantly, and looked away when Hermione glanced at him.

“Ron,” said Ginny from beside Harry, “What on earth is that thing on your shoulder?”

Attached to Ron’s shoulder appeared to be some kind of pin, arranged out of bottle caps and odd, multicolored feathers.

“Luna made it,” Ron said, and didn’t sound embarrassed at all. “Look what it does-” he poked it with his finger, and the bottle cap creation shook and hissed, and then spit out some more feathers. “Isn’t it weird?” he grinned. “Luna says it’s a miniature model of a gwimbly woll. The bottle caps are supposed to be its shells.”

“Well,” Ginny said, nodding skeptically but smiling too, “that’s nice…”

Just at that moment, Luna walked behind them humming a tune that sounded very much like “Weasley is Our King.” Harry looked over at Hermione, but she didn’t appear to be paying attention.

He could feel the weight of Dobby’s diary in his pocket, but the library was so crowded; he couldn’t possibly show it to her now. Harry sighed and began paging through his book, The Art of Attacks, by Finola VanderGaard. A lot of the things in it he already knew: going on the offensive with your Patronus, stinging hexes, Stupefy, Impedimenta, and of course, a very brief chapter on the Unforgivables. He was about to return the book to its shelf when he flipped to a page that read, “Lightning in a Bottle, how to become a master of the forces of nature.”

Harry sat up straighter and read a few paragraphs. It was very interesting, how to carry lighting in a bottle and release it at will, though he didn’t very much fancy lugging around a bottle all the time….But maybe he could modify the spell…

“Harry, don’t you have a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Lupin?”

“Right,” Harry said, looking up at the clock. “Thanks for reminding me, Ginny.” He stood, and after a moment’s consideration, tucked The Art of Attacks under his arm. Ginny stood as well, and moved closer to kiss him goodbye. Harry met Hermione’s eyes for a split second, and then coughed into his hand and turned his back to Ginny, stacking the books around him. “Hermione, would you put these back on the shelves for me?” he asked quickly, but she didn’t say anything. She was staring at him with a shocked and thoughtful expression.

Harry walked away quickly. He didn’t look back at Ginny at all. He didn’t want to see the blazingly offended look on her face.

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

“You’re late, Harry.”

“I’m sorry Professor,” Harry said as he closed the door behind him. Professor Lupin was standing near the desk at the center of the room. All of the tables had been pushed out, leaving a large, empty practicing area, in which Harry could run away from all of Lupin’s hexes.

“I was in the library-”

“Don’t worry,” Professor Lupin waved his hand. “It’s only eight o clock. Now. Are you ready to practice evasion?”

Harry pulled the copy of Finola VanderGaard’s The Art of Attacks out from underneath his arm. “Actually Professor, I was hoping you might be able to help me with something.”

Professor Lupin took the book from Harry and looked it over carefully, then sighed. “I suppose that you’re right,” he said, rather sadly. “Of course. We should be focusing on your attacks. I can’t imagine, Harry, what this has done to you, these past weeks…” He leafed through the open book without really reading it.

“What are you talking about Professor?” Harry asked. “I just wanted you to help me modify a spell- the Lightning in a Bottle charm, I wanted to….get it out of the bottle,” he finished lamely, as Lupin stared at him with his mouth agape.

“Yes!” Lupin exclaimed, trying to recover. “I apologize, Harry, I thought that you must have heard…of course we can work on the Lightning in a Bottle charm…”

“Oh,” said Harry, understanding. “You were talking about me being a horcrux. I did hear about it. I heard you and Tonks talking with Headmistress McGonagall.”

Professor Lupin sank down on the desk, and Harry thought he heard him curse himself under his breath. “Stupid,” he muttered. “Stupid and careless.”

“It’s all right, Professor,” he said. “I’d have found out one way or another. And I still want to practice evasion tonight; I actually have a new spell to show you.”

“That’s good, Harry, that’s very good,” Lupin was saying, rubbing his temples with the fingers of one hand.

Harry watched him quietly. He looked terrible. His skin was drooping and gray, and his eyes were completely bloodshot. He couldn’t even stand up straight, and they were still weeks away from the next full moon.

“I really am a horcrux, aren’t I?”

“No!-I…don’t know. We don’t know. I…hope not, Harry, but it would explain so many things…” Harry noticed that Remus appeared to be looking at his lightning bolt scar.

“If I am,” Harry swallowed, “Then I have to die-”

“No,” Remus said, but to Harry it sounded more like denial than an actual answer. “There may be ways- to avoid it-” he paused and breathed in deeply. “The longer that I’m alive…I believe that destiny is what you make it. Prophecies are empty…until you choose to fill them.”

“You sound like Dumbledore,” Harry said, and smiled, and realized that it was the first time he had been able to smile about the Headmaster since the funeral. “Can you help me with that spell?”

Lupin looked down at the open page, grateful for the change of subject. “It seems reasonably simple,” he said, brightening. “You see here, the second portion of the incantation is actually what contains the electricity in the bottle…and you should be able to use the same motion with your wand to call up the lightning…”

Harry leaned in over the book with him, and they spent the better part of two hours perfecting Harry’s new spell, leaving several burnt black streaks on the classroom walls in the process.

As they walked out together, their hair singed and their robes full of holes (even though Harry had taught Lupin Hermione’s Lateo, they were still unable to dodge all of the bolts), Professor Lupin placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Your parents would be so proud of you Harry,” he said, his face somber, and more than a little proud himself. “You’re ready.”

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

When Harry finally made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room, it was nearly eleven, and he expected it to be deserted. He didn’t expect to see the bushy haired silhouette that was perched on the sofa.

“Hermione? What are you doing up?”

“I was waiting for you,” she said in a very Hermione-ish voice, and he knew that she had already rehearsed whatever she was going to say. “I wanted to apologize, for earlier. I was acting foolishly. I don’t need a potion for Ron, he’s-” she hit a snag in her speech and closed her eyes. “He’s-”

“It’s all right,” Harry said. He felt very awkward knowing what he knew, that she loved him, and it was somehow even more awkward that she didn’t know that he knew. It was all very confusing.

“It’s not all right,” she said, and continued with her speech. But Harry stopped listening. He just watched her, her animated movements, the way that her brows knit together when she was embarrassed. How could I not have known? He wondered. Well, she’s done a good job of hiding it, anyway….But had she? He thought back over all of their years together. She had always been by his side, breaking the rules for him, even yelling at him when he needed it…and Ron had said that she nearly went spare over that summer, not seeing him. And he could picture her now, in the Quidditch stands, clapping so loudly that her hands must’ve ached….long before Ron had ever played.

Ginny really had no business telling her she doesn’t understand Quidditch, Harry thought. After all, she’s the one who got me all of those Quidditch books…

“-me Harry?”

Harry’s eyes snapped back into focus. “What?”

Hermione frowned. “I said, do you forgive me, Harry?”

I guess I should have been listening, Harry thought as he nodded dumbly. “And I have something for you,” he said, reaching into his robes. “I got the diary from Dobby.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and she reached for it greedily, turning it in her hands and scrutinizing the flaking black ink still on the cover. “Oh Harry! I wonder if it’ll work!”

“I hope so, because I paid ten galleons for it,” Harry smiled.

Hermione beamed at him. “Well, there’s only one way to find out. Do you want to-”

“What’re you to up to down here?”

Harry looked up to see Ron standing on the stairs. He took an inadvertent step back from Hermione, and saw Ron narrow his eyes.

“I just got back from my lesson,” Harry said, and tried to make his voice light.

“Well, what’s that you’ve got,” Ron said suspiciously, gesturing to the diary in Hermione’s hands.

Hermione gave Harry a look that said, I suppose we ought to tell him, and then turned to Ron. “I’ve been working on a talisman for Harry. To help him locate all of the remaining horcruxes. This is the final piece. Or at least I hope it’s the final piece,” she said, looking down at the demolished book. “We were just going to try it out.”

“Do you want to come?” Harry asked, and Ron gave him a resentful look.

“Of course I want to come. I’m in this too, aren’t I?” And then, as if to make a point, he brushed past Harry and guided a bewildered Hermione through the portrait hole.

Harry followed behind, hoping that Ron’s foul mood was just a side effect of being woken late at night.

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

On the way to the empty Charms classroom, Ron stayed close beside Hermione, asking her questions about her talisman, which she readily answered. It wasn’t often that Ron got so interested about something academic that she was doing.

Harry shuffled his feet behind them and glared into the back of Ron’s head. Don’t act this way, he thought angrily, when I and just about everyone else can see that you’re crazy about Luna.

But Ron had always been possessive where Hermione was concerned. And he had always been worried that he would be somehow left out. And, Harry realized, he doesn’t know how Hermione really feels. Or how I really feel, for that matter.

Those thoughts calmed him down a bit, and by the time they reached the classroom, which Hermione unlocked with a silent password, he felt almost amiable towards Ron, and Ron it seemed, was now fully awake and amiable towards Harry.

“Ginny’s right pissed at you, you know,” Ron grinned. “She was practically rattling the table legs in rage after you left the library tonight.”

Harry glanced at Hermione, who was peering into the cauldron, and trying not to pay any attention to what they were saying.

“I don’t think-” Harry started, and then swallowed hard. What would Ron say if he told him that he wasn’t going to date Ginny anymore? He was such a protective brother…But I suppose it’s nothing to what he’s going to say when I tell him I think I’m falling for Hermione, Harry thought, and looked at her as she pondered the diary, nibbling her lower lip in concentration. Harry broke out in a sweat. Had he really just thought that? Was he falling for Hermione? There was a strange, dizzy feeling in his chest, like his heart was doing back-flips. But it couldn’t be- he was probably just feeling threatened by her relationship with Ron….except that he knew now that there was no relationship with Ron-

“What don’t you think?”

Harry jumped, having forgotten that Ron was standing right beside him. “I-” he said, and steeled himself. “I don’t think I’m going to be dating Ginny anymore.” He looked at Ron carefully. The red from his hair seemed to be traveling all the way down his face, and right into the collar of his pajamas. Harry winced inwardly as the seconds of silence ticked by.

But then Ron began to return to his normal freckly color. He looked at Harry intently, and then shrugged. “She’ll be all right,” he said after a minute. “She’s a tough one, my little sister, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ve definitely noticed,” Harry said, exhaling with relief.

“But can I ask you,” Ron said thoughtfully. “Why? Why aren’t you going to date her anymore? I thought you two got on fine.”

Harry looked down at the ground, then back up at his friend. “We do get on fine,” he said. “She’s a great girl, it’s just that she’s not-”

“The girl,” Ron finished for him, and nodded. Harry noticed that Ron wasn’t looking at him anymore, but rather over at Hermione. “Does she know yet?”

“Not yet,” Harry said, and frowned, realizing that there was another unpleasant task lying ahead of him. As if vanquishing the forces of darkness wasn’t enough.

“I think we’re ready,” Hermione said loudly, and Harry and Ron moved closer to the cauldron.

The room was nearly full of the white smoke that was billowing from it; Harry could feel its icy cold as it curled around his knees and feet. The center of the cauldron glowed a pale bluish silver.

“I- I have to say the incantation,” Hermione said to them, smiling awkwardly. “It’s kind of like the one for the Marauder’s Map, only-”

“Just say it, Hermione,” Ron said, peering into the cauldron.

“Right,” she said, and cleared her throat. She lifted her wand, and dipped the glowing tip into the liquid. “I solemnly swear to defeat the Dark Lord.” As she spoke, the pale glow grew brighter and brighter, until they had to shield their eyes. “I’m tossing the diary in now,” Hermione announced. “I don’t know what’s going to happen; maybe we should duck or something-”

“Just throw it!” Harry heard Ron say, and she did; Harry heard it land in the cauldron with a splash.

The room was instantly dimmer, and there was not only white smoke now, but blue and pitch black as well. And then, the cauldron ceased to smoke altogether.

“What happened?” Harry asked. “Did it work?”

Hermione didn’t answer. She was staring intently at the cauldron, and then, she suddenly stepped forward and, jerking up her sleeve, plunged her arm into the black liquid.

“Hermione!” Harry and Ron exclaimed. She was in up to her elbow, and then up to her shoulder, before the pulled her arm back out.

Clutched in her hand was what appeared to be a small, iridescent blue pyramid. It hardly appeared to be there at all, as if she couldn’t possibly be touching it, as if it were just an illusion.

“Very cool,” Ron whispered.

“Only if it works,” Hermione whispered back.

Harry couldn’t resist. He drew his wand and tapped it against the pyramid in her hand. “I solemnly swear to defeat the Dark Lord,” he said quietly.

The three of them gasped as the pyramid opened up in Hermione’s hand, unfolding itself and projecting a wide beam of light into the air. Inside of it was a scene, of a country road, and then it moved, along several roads and through forests. They watched as street signs and markers sped past, and then the view moved through the trees, and into a clearing, at the center of which was a lake.

“It’s taking us there,” Harry said with awe as the view plunged into the water. He thought he could see the waxy shapes of floating Inferi and shivered. And then it was there in the view, resting at the bottom: a sapphire encrusted coffer, half buried in silt.

“Ravenclaw,” Hermione said quietly, and then the light disappeared, and the pyramid refolded itself in her hand. “We’d better tell McGonagall,” she said hurriedly.

“We’d better get some rest,” Harry corrected her. “Because we leave in the morning.”

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

A/N: Yeah, I know, Harry, Hermione, and a hippogriff together in the pumpkin patch. It’s a little precious. But come on, don’t we love that fluffy pie goodness? Or at least I do anyway.

And also, I’m a liar on two counts. First, I said that this chapter wouldn’t make it out on time, which it obviously has, and second, I said that this chapter would be the second to last, which it obviously isn’t, because the horcrux hunt hasn’t even started yet. So it’s going to be longer. By one or two chapters maybe. At this point I should really just stop guessing. It’ll be over when it’s over!

Thank you so much for all of your reviews….they’re brilliant and funny all around, and sometimes you sneak in a mini theory…or a good Ginny-rant, both of which I adore. You guys rule.

10. Chapter Ten: Back into the Water

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Ten: Back into the Water

Disclaimer: I hereby claim Harry Potter in the name of H/Hr shippers everywhere! MUAHAHAHA! And I can do that, because I’m delusional. So there.

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

“How shall we go? Should we Apparate?”

“We can’t do that; we don’t even know where it bloody is.”

“But we have the image from the talisman…I think if we focus….but perhaps you’re right; maybe we should just take Buckbeak…”

“You’re really obsessed with that hippogriff, you know that?”

“Well he’s fast, and strong, and….what business is it of yours, Ron!”

“It’s plenty of my business if you intend to stuff me up onto his back with the both of you! And you’re in the middle, there’s no way I’m going to be straddling Harry for miles…”

“You won’t be ‘straddling’ anyone besides Buckbeak-!”

“Shush, both of you,” Harry whispered sharply. Ron and Hermione fell silent in the dark. It was hours before sunrise, and the fire in the Common Room had gone out. “We’ll go by broomstick.”

“And I’ll take Buckbeak,” Hermione said.

“No Hermione, we don’t know how far it is to that lake, and I don’t want to have to stop to rest him.”

“But-” she said hesitantly. “But, Harry, I can’t fly that well.”

“Then you’ll ride with me,” he said quickly, and was suddenly very glad that it was too dark for him to see Ron’s expression. He hadn’t known that he was going to say that; telling Hermione to ride with him just seemed…natural somehow. And then Ron surprised him by clapping him on the back cheerfully.

“Good,” he said. “Maybe my Cleansweep will be able to keep up with your Firebolt for once, what with the extra weight and all.”

“Extra weight!?” Hermione hissed.

“Oh come off it Hermione, that’s not what I-”

“Shush!” Harry said, stepping between them in the dark and taking Hermione by the shoulders, physically turning her away from Ron.

“Lumos!”

Harry squinted at the unbelievably bright light shining from the tip of Ginny’s wand. She was standing on the stairs, pointing it at them accusingly. Harry quickly removed his hands from Hermione’s shoulders.

“What’re you doing up?” Ron demanded.

“Me? I heard Hermione leave the dorms. What’re YOU doing up?” Ginny’s eyebrow arched as her gaze moved from Ron to Harry.

“It’s none of your business,” Ron said tersely. “Now get back to bed!”

Harry winced. If there were two things that Ginny hated to hear, it was that something wasn’t her business and that she should go back to bed. Harry watched with a detached kind of awe as her face turned a very Weasley red.

“You’ve discovered something haven’t you?! You’re going off adventuring somewhere and you were just going to leave me here, as usual!” She cast a seething look in Hermione’s direction, and Harry felt Hermione step slightly behind him, as though embarrassed.

“Yes as usual!” Ron snapped. “It’s dangerous, all right? Can you imagine what Mum would say if she thought I was just going to let you go traipsing around-”

“I can take care of myself just as well as you can,” Ginny growled.

Harry felt Hermione moving behind him, and saw her flick her wand in the direction of the girls’ dorms, and then walk to the boys’ staircase and do the same. She was using a non-verbal silencio, he realized, and smiled. And it was a good idea. Ron and Ginny were quickly losing control of their voices; they were liable to wake the whole school. And Ginny was waving her glaringly bright wand about in all directions. It was sure to attract attention, and the last thing he wanted was to be trapped in Headmistress McGonagall’s office, listening to her call him ‘Potter’ and peer at him through her spectacles.

Harry looked over at the cold fireplace and cleared his mind. It couldn’t be that hard, after all, he’d managed it once or twice in class….he focused his energy carefully and took a deep breath. Incendio. The word resonated between his ears without ever leaving his mouth. And a bright fire crackled to life amidst the dead embers.

Ginny and Ron stopped bickering and stared at it. Harry himself was still speechless, although quite pleased, and Hermione was trying not to smile as she added fresh logs.

“Tell him I can go, Harry,” Ginny pleaded, after the moment had passed.

Harry looked at her awkwardly. He wanted to hex both Ron and Hermione for waking her up; he had enough to worry about without wondering what to do about Ginny.

“Listen Ginny, Ron’s right,” Harry said, and forced himself to meet her eyes. “It’s just too dangerous.” He tried to speak with an air of finality, but she didn’t seem impressed. She just stood there with her hands on her hips, looking increasingly furious.

“I’m not a child! I can help! And I heard you say that you were taking broomsticks, and I can fly…even faster than Ron…”

“You can not!” Ron sputtered, insulted, and Harry exchanged looks with Hermione.

“Oh, you’re listening to HER, are you?” Ginny scowled, and before Harry could say another word, she was advancing on Hermione with her arms crossed against her chest. “Well of course SHE doesn’t want me to come along! She’s so used to having you all to herself; she can’t stand that I’m in your life…that I’m your GIRLFRIEND!”

Hermione’s eyes were wide. “Ginny, I-”

“ ‘Ginny I’ what? You’re supposed to be my friend!”

“I am! I am your friend!” Hermione said desperately, and glanced at Harry.

“Don’t even look at him!” Ginny screeched, and pushed Hermione roughly.

“Hey!” Ron said angrily, and grabbed his sister by the arm. “You can’t just go around shoving people-”

“Get off of me Ron!”

They continued to bicker, but Harry barely heard them. He was too busy staring at Hermione, who was wearing a shocked expression and leaning against the wall she had just been pushed into. All of Harry’s vision seemed to go red.

“Ginny, we need to talk,” he said very clearly over the tumult. Ron and Ginny stopped wrestling immediately.

Hermione brushed herself off. “I’m fine, Harry,” she said softly, and he looked over at her just to be sure.

“Hermione, you and Ron meet me in the Room of Requirement.”

“All right,” Ron said carefully, and moved to collect Hermione from the wall. Harry heard him whisper “You ok?” to her as they ducked out of the portrait hole. And then the passage swung shut, and he and Ginny were alone.

She was biting on her lip and looking away from him. “Look, I know what you’re going to say, and maybe you’re right, maybe I shouldn’t have pushed her, but let’s not forget that she HEXED me!”

“You tried to hex her first,” Harry said flatly, and Ginny twisted her head to glare at him, her red hair flying. “Hermione’s going to go with us. You’re not.”

“It’s not fair, Harry,” Ginny said, but he shook his head. He had lost all patience with her. It would be better just to get it over with, here and now.

“Yes it is. She created the talisman; if it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t be going at all-”

“Oh that’s just perfect,” Ginny snapped. “Genius Hermione, making herself indispensable again!”

“Don’t Ginny,” Harry warned, bristling at her. “Conjuring that talisman was brilliant.”

“Of course it was! Everything precious Hermione DOES is brilliant, isn’t it?” she sighed, and her shoulders slumped tiredly. “I swear Harry, sometimes you act as though she’s your girlfriend instead of me.”

“You’re not my girlfriend,” he said quickly, and looked away as her eyes grew large.

“What’re you talking about?” she said suspiciously. “Harry, if you think you can be noble again- I’ve had enough of that-”

“No,” he said gently. “Listen Ginny, I don’t want to hurt you…but you-I…We’re not getting back together. And I’m not trying to be noble.” He watched her guiltily as she began to tremble. “It’s just not meant to be.”

Ginny was shaking her head. “Harry, if you’d just let me come….You’d see what I can do, that I can help….that it’s not just her that can-”

“I know that you’re a great witch, all right? That’s not it. You’re not coming because it’s none of your business,” Harry said flatly. “It never has been, really. And neither am I.” He turned away from her, and walked towards the portrait hole. He didn’t stop when she said his name. He didn’t stop when he heard her start to cry. And remembering the way that she had pushed Hermione, he couldn’t quite manage to be sorry.

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

When Harry entered the Room of Requirement, Ron and Hermione sprang up from where they were sitting and tried to look busy. Neither one of them looked at him. Hermione was moving from shelf to shelf selecting spell books and tucking them into her bag. Ron was studying his wand as though something new and interesting might suddenly grow out of it.

Harry cleared his throat and Ron looked up. “Everything all right, Harry?” he asked uncertainly.

“Everything’s fine. Are we ready?” He looked around the room. His Firebolt and Ron’s Cleansweep were leaning against the far wall. Hermione was scooping a few more items into her bag. “Do you really need all of that?” Harry asked, watching her pack a very familiar-looking jam jar. “You just might weigh down the Firebolt after all.”

Hermione scowled. “You can’t be too careful, Harry. Who knows what we’ll run into,” she said, and, picking up a vial of dark liquid, “or how much blood we’ll lose.”

Ron swallowed audibly. “That’s cheerful.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’ll be grateful when it saves your life,” she said, and scanned the room. “All right, I think we’ve got everything.”

Harry looked around at the shelves, which Hermione had ransacked and left nearly empty. He was just about to accio his broomstick when his eye passed over a clump of what looked like slimy green rat tails. Harry pointed quickly. “Hermione, take that would you?”

“What? That mess of slime?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Harry said excitedly.

Hermione looked at it doubtfully. Ron lifted his wand. “Er…Accio….mess of slime!”

Harry scowled at them both and walked to the shelf, scooped up the pile and stuffed it into his pocket. “It’s gillyweed,” he said, exasperated.

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed. “Of course! Of course we would need that. The horcrux is at the bottom of a lake! How could I have forgotten…you used that during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament!”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled sheepishly, feeling flattered that she remembered. “Um, let’s have another look at the talisman map.”

Hermione reached into her pocket and held the pyramid out to Harry, who looked at it levelly. He drew his wand.

“I solemnly swear, to defeat the Dark Lord.”

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

“Don’t break the surface yet,” Harry warned, as the three of them stood beside the still, dark water.

“I don’t think I want to,” Ron muttered, and sunk down on his haunches.

It was early evening, and the light was fading, but the waxy, seaweed covered figures of the floating Inferi were still very visible in the lake. There appeared to be at least forty of them, drifting around motionless, their limbs stiff and their eyes open and sightless.

Harry looked up at the retreating sun. It had taken several hours to fly to the lake, going high up into the atmosphere where the wind was blisteringly cold; Harry’s face still stung, and Ron’s complexion definitely looked rosier than usual. Hermione had fared better; she had clung to Harry’s back, and buried her face against his shoulder. Her hands had eventually nestled themselves inside his cloak, and Harry had been grateful for the cold then, so that he had a reasonable excuse for his shivering.

Now she was standing at the shoreline, looking fearfully into the water and trying to count the Inferi. “There are so many,” she whispered, and Ron placed a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off and turned to Harry. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait? We flew so far; you must be tired, and you shouldn’t be fighting so many of them when you’re tired-”

Harry stared down into the lake. This was no mere bowl of potion. And there was no boat to slide across the surface of the water. There was only one way to the horcrux, and that was straight down.

“Perhaps there’s another way,” Hermione said quickly. “I mean, Voldemort must have made an alternate route….he couldn’t have wanted to have to go into the lake if he needed to retrieve it…”

“Maybe,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Or maybe he just never intended to retrieve it…”

“Listen,” Ron said shrilly, unable to take his eyes from the water as if one of the Inferi might come lurching out of the lake at any moment, “Harry can have a…a sandwich or something, but then we’ve got to get that horcrux. I’m not spending the night next to a lake full of dead bodies!”

“There’s nothing to fear from a body, Ron,” Harry said, hearing Dumbledore’s voice in his head, “Any more than there is to fear from the dark…”

“The dark can be pretty scary, if you ask me,” Ron mumbled.

“I should have thought of this,” Hermione lamented, shaking her head. “I should have realized…I should have found a spell to use fire underwater!” Ron was looking at her curiously as she wrung her hands. “What do you want us to do, Harry?” she asked.

“There’s not enough gillyweed for all of us,” he said, feeling the weight of it in his pocket. “I have to go in alone-it’ll be all right, Hermione,” he added, seeing her eyes widen in fright. “After I take the horcrux, the Inferi will awaken. I’ll need you two to give me some cover.”

“Give you some cover?” Ron asked doubtfully.

“Hex their heads off,” Harry said, trying to smile, but Ron only swallowed and looked worried.

Harry walked to the water’s edge. The Inferi were swirling lazily beneath the surface. There were so many; he’d have to touch some of them on his descent, and he seriously hoped that Ron and Hermione’s hexes were spot on…He reached into his pocket and grasped the gillyweed, then stuffed it into his mouth. The cold, slimy texture was no more pleasant than it had been during the Triwizard Tournament. As he chewed, he looked back at Ron and Hermione, who already had their wands drawn. Hermione looked very pale, and Ron looked as though he’d just kissed Aragog. And then Harry’s gills sprouted, and he did the only thing he could do- he dove in.

***********

The lake was thick with Inferi. Harry swam straight down, trying to see through the murky water while ignoring the things drifting around him in their tattered rags, their hair gone green with weeds. He thought he felt one grab at his leg and jerked sharply.

Calm down, he thought to himself, don’t disturb them before you have to…there’s nothing to fear from a body…And then, just ten feet below him, he saw it: the coffer, encrusted with sapphires, sparkling in the dim green glow.

He reached it in a flash, sending silt churning up around it. He reached out and then looked around warily at the Inferi. Would they wake as soon as he touched it? He looked up at the surface and tried to make out the shapes of Ron and Hermione. He couldn’t. So could they see him? How could they hex the Inferi if they couldn’t see him? But there was nothing to be done about it. He reached out to grab the horcrux, and then quickly pulled back. Hermione’s voice was screaming in his head for him to take his time.

He studied the coffer carefully. It was rather large, at least one meter wide and two deep, and it looked extremely heavy. He would have to kick hard to get it to the surface. He kicked his legs tentatively, testing his strength, and stirred up more silt. And that’s when he saw it, still half buried. A chain. Harry’s heart beat faster. If he had just grabbed it…the Inferi would have attacked him….he wouldn’t have had any time to find a way to break the chain. And from the looks of it, I can’t anyway, he thought with frustration. The links are too thick.

Harry closed his eyes. What would Hermione do…his scar was beginning to throb. And then his eyes popped open. The coffer itself was unimportant. It was flashy for a reason; it was a trick! It was what was inside that mattered, and that was protected by only a simple lock! Dumbledore had always said that Tom Riddle was overconfident and cocky…he’d have loved the idea of hiding it in plain sight, within a trap…

Harry’s scar was practically pulsing. The horcrux was inside of the coffer…he was sure of it. He only needed to unlock the box….he opened his mouth, and emitted a large bubble. He shook his head. He couldn’t speak underwater. He’d have to do it the hard way…He cleared his mind…and then felt a waxy hand on his shoulder.

Harry didn’t care if he could speak underwater or not, at that moment he screamed as hard as he could. The face leering in front of him was horrific, gray green and toothless, with cloudy, yellowed eyes. Harry tore at its hands, as more of them came at him, each more awful than the last. He could feel bits of their hair come out as he struggled with them; he could feel their flesh give, and that they didn’t care.

Hermione, he thought in a panic, Ron, where are you?

As soon as he thought it, two of the Inferi closest to him were blasted back through the water. Then another two. Then three more.

Harry reached for the box and pointed his wand at the lock. Alohomora! He thought wildly, but nothing happened. Alohomora! Alohomora! He thought again, as he felt more hands tearing at his back. He had to focus…he wasn’t leaving the lake without whatever was inside that box…

He forced himself to be still. He forced his world to go dark, and quiet. Alohomora.

The lock clicked open, and Harry wrenched open the lid and pulled out the contents of the coffer, then sprang off of the bottom of the lake and kicked with all his might for the surface.

It seemed that a thousand hands were dragging him back down. And though he could see Ron and Hermione’s hexes flying around him, he was certain that he’d never make it to the top. But then a barrage of hexes shot down and knocked the Inferi back; Harry surged upward and broke the surface, and swam for shore, kicking as hard as he could at whatever his legs touched.

He fell upon the sand, panting, pain throbbing in the sides of his neck as his gills receded.

“Harry run!” he heard Hermione shout too late. The Inferi had come up from the lake, and were upon him, tearing at his arms and legs. He desperately tried to hang on to the horcrux, which was dripping wet and heavy, but it felt as though the Inferi were going to rip his limbs clear off. He could hear someone screaming and then realized that it was him, that he was screaming; he could feel the tendons in his arms begin to stretch…begin to snap…there are too many Inferi now, he thought, mad with pain. There must be two dozen….

“No Hermione!” Harry heard Ron shout, and then the Inferi holding his left arm was blasted apart and she was beside him, pressing against him and carrying a very familiar looking jam jar.

“Stay close to me Harry!” she shouted above the Inferi’s moans, and Harry tried to slide nearer as she opened the jar’s lid.

From inside the tiny glass came a rush of blue flames, which quickly whirled into a maelstrom, the fire spinning around them and consuming the Inferi in droves, so hot that it left behind nothing but a sifting of ash. Harry clutched Hermione about the waist and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were crouched alone on the shore, and the jar was closed. He looked at her, amazed.

“My bluebell flames,” she said breathlessly. “I kicked them up a bit.”

Harry held up the soaking bundle that he had retrieved from the jeweled coffer. “I got it,” he said, smiling at her.

“You were brilliant,” she said, as Ron ran over. “Oh Ron, are you all right? The flames- I didn’t even think-”

“I’m fine,” Ron said, waving her off. “I ducked behind a tree.” He grinned at Harry. “That was close.”

“Too close,” Hermione said seriously, and then Harry, too exhausted to think, or move, or breathe, collapsed onto the sand.

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

Harry’s blinked and squinted at the light shining in from the hospital wing windows. He held his hand up as a shield and gave a low moan. His head was pounding, and there was a sound in his ears like Hedwig’s wings flapping.

“How are you feeling mate?”

Harry peered carefully out of the corner of one eye. Ron was seated beside the bed, looking worried. “What?” Harry managed. “What hap-”

“Don’t try to talk, Potter,” Headmistress McGonagall said from the other side of his bed, and Harry turned his head too quickly to look at her and made himself wince. “The horcrux is safe and sound, and so might you be, if you had only seen fit to inform the Order of this little escapade.” She sounded very stern, but even with his blurred vision, Harry could see that her eyes were soft behind her spectacles.

“We thought for a minute that you were gone,” Ron said quietly. “Hermione practically went spare-” And Harry vaguely remembered hearing her crying, feeling her arms around his neck…Ron was looking down at his feet. “She never left your side,” he said lowly. “I finally had to order her out of here, to get some rest…Ginny came by too,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

Harry felt himself rising out of bed.

“What are you doing, Potter!? Lie back down! You’re going to be here for the next few days!”

But Harry couldn’t wait. He swung his legs over the edge and barely caught himself when his knees buckled. But he kept going. He had to see her. He had to thank her. And then he felt Ron’s hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll help you,” he said quietly.

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

Ron helped Harry into the Gryffindor Common Room, and then left without a word. The few students who were there studying scattered as well, but Harry barely noticed. He was looking at Hermione, who appeared to have fallen asleep on the sofa by the fire.

He pushed his leg forward and clenched his teeth. Walking had been a lot easier with Ron to lean on. It seemed an eternity before he reached her, and then he lowered himself to his knees, his head starting to spin. He couldn’t help but give a little moan as his sore joints voiced their objection to the movement.

Before him, Hermione stirred and then opened her eyes and blinked. “Harry?! What’re you doing- you can’t be out of the hospital wing!” She lifted herself hurriedly onto one elbow, but he shook his head. He wanted to thank her for the flames, and for the map. He wanted to thank her for worrying, and that he knew what she felt.

He wanted to tell her so many things.

But his head was pounding, and his joints were screaming. So instead of saying all that, he just leaned forward, and kissed her.

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

A/N: Yay he kissed her! Okay, so, that was a long time coming, and I know it was brief but there’ll be more. And next chapter we’ll get to see the reactions…and…yeah, I’m really tired guys. By the way, there’ll be a delay next week. No seriously this time. I’m going out to Illinois on business and I won’t have any time to write the next chap…so expect a one week delay. And that chapter might be the last chapter. Haven’t decided yet.

Thank you for the reviews, you all really really rock. And I hope you liked this chapter…it was kind of like a revisiting of spells from the past…

11. Chapter Eleven: The Power He Knows Not

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Eleven: The Power He Knows Not

Disclaimer: I’m on eleven chapters. I’ve run out of disclaimers.

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

Hermione was blinking at him, wide-eyed. She appeared to be speechless. She was frozen in place, lying on the sofa, propped up on one elbow. Harry thought she looked beautiful. He kissed her again and watched her eyes close, and then her brows knit together.

“I don’t understand,” she said softly.

“Of course you do,” Harry smiled at her, the pain in his head and joints completely forgotten.

“But…you never….and Ginny- you-”

“Never loved her,” he said simply, and moved toward Hermione, but she sat up quickly.

“Wait-I have to think,” she said, placing her hand on her forehead. “What about Ron, and Ginny, and-”

Harry sighed and heaved himself up onto the sofa beside her. She was wringing her hands and nibbling on her lower lip nervously. “Are you really all right?” she asked him. “This doesn’t make any sense…You hit your head when you lost consciousness; maybe you have a concussion…”

He smiled and reached out to touch her face. “Hermione- I’ve been wanting to do this….for awhile now.”

“You have?” she sounded doubtful. And scared too. And Harry realized that he was more than just a bit scared himself. She was his best friend, after all, and he had just kissed her. And it hadn’t felt like any other kiss he’d had before.

“Listen,” he said carefully. “I know that this- well, it’s scary, everything right now is scary-”

“With Voldemort, and the horcruxes,” Hermione whispered, looking at his scar.

“Yes,” he said, feeling a great warmth in his chest. He was dizzy just looking at her, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with hitting his head. “But this, you and me, it’s scary in a good way, I think. Besides, do we really have to think about those other things right now?”

Hermione smiled shyly and shook her head, her bushy hair swaying back and forth. Tentatively, she placed her arms around his neck and moved closer…

“Mmm!” Harry squeaked against her lips when she squeezed him a bit too tightly. “Still sore!”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, jumping away. “Harry, we have to get you back to the hospital wing; you’re in no condition to be out of bed.”

“I don’t want to go back,” he said stubbornly. “Do you know how long it took me to get here?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” Hermione stated, arching her eyebrow at him. “Well, lie down at least.” And she gently pushed him onto the sofa cushions.

Harry’s eyes fluttered closed. He was really much too happy for a boy who had just been nearly killed by a lake full of Inferi. But he was also still too exhausted to fully enjoy being so happy. He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione, who was sitting at the other end of the sofa, yawning. She must be almost as tired as I am, he thought, or maybe even more; she didn’t get those restful couple of hours that I spent unconscious.

“Hermione,” he said, and gestured for her to lie down with him. She glanced around the empty Common Room and shook her head. He held out his hand. “You’ll never get any sleep, sitting up like that.”

“I don’t know Harry,” she said reluctantly.

“Come on, we’ve slept near each other before.”

“But, things are different now,” she said, and then, looking alarmed, “Aren’t they?”

“Yes,” he said, smiling at her. “They’re very different now. But I promise that I’m too tired to do anything about that tonight.”

Hermione studied him uncertainly for a few more seconds, and then laid down beside him on the sofa. Harry could feel the cozy warmth coming from her and closed his eyes.

“You know, that kiss was pretty good,” he said impishly. “Did you really snog Viktor Krum?”

She replied with a light elbow in his ribs. “Good night, Harry.”

“Ow! Good night, Hermione,” he grinned. And it didn’t take long for him to fall fast asleep, because lying beside her, even on a cramped sofa was ten times better than being in any hospital bed.

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

When Harry awoke the next morning, every muscle in his body ached. He felt like he had just been trampled by a herd of elephants. He squinted his eyes against the light, and then blinked. Hermione was gone.

He sat up quickly and winced. “Hermione?”

“She’s gone to the showers.”

Harry turned his head to see Ron standing a few feet behind him. “Oh,” Harry said, trying to sound casual as a trio of first years walked through the Common Room, trying not to stare at him and failing miserably.

“And you’d better go too,” Ron said, his arms crossed against his chest. “McGonagall wants to see you as soon as you’re up.”

“Ron-”

“I’m fine Harry, all right? Just get a move on; McGonagall’s right pissed off with all of us….but mostly with you.” Ron wasn’t looking him in the eyes, rather he was staring down at his shoes, and then over at the wall, and then off towards the portrait hole.

“No, I wasn’t going to ask that,” Harry said, getting to his feet, and that’s when Ron did look at him. He looked him straight in the face.

“Well you bloody well ought to!” Ron sputtered. “You just spent the night sleeping with my girlfriend…and this, right after you’ve been making out with my sister…”

Harry didn’t think that it was the best time to point out to Ron that Hermione wasn’t actually his girlfriend, and that he hadn’t really snogged Ginny in months. “Ron-”

“No, just wait a minute, - you go around snogging everybody you want to, and you never bother to ask me how I feel about it…” Ron pointed his finger at him. “You know, Harry, I’m starting to think that you don’t know when to ask, well let me tell you: when you decided you’d like to snog my little sister, that was a good time, and when you decided you wanted to snog my girlfriend, that was a good time-”

“Ron,” Harry said forcefully to stop Ron’s tirade, which was making him want to smile, and he was fairly certain that smiling at Ron just now would be disastrous. And besides, it was very serious business. “Ron, are you all right with it?”

Ron looked down and shrugged. “I don’t think I have much of a choice, do I? I mean, the way she was crying over you….” He looked at Harry with a sheepish expression. “The way she’s always cried over you…I must’ve been really thick not to see it…”

“You’re not the only one,” Harry said with equal sheepishness.

Harry looked at Ron. Ron looked at Harry. They’d been friends since the moment they set eyes on each other that first day on the train. Harry didn’t know what he’d do if Ron didn’t forgive him…he’d have to find some way to make it up to him, though he had no idea of what that could be. Maybe a boatload of chocolate frogs, he thought. But that wasn’t enough. Maybe two boatloads, and tickets for the Chudley Cannons…

Ron exhaled deeply. “Well, do you suppose there’s time for breakfast before you’ve got to go before the judge?”

Harry blinked. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? It couldn’t be; Ron was a Weasley, he should be turning eight shades of red and beginning to shake. Instead he was standing there very calmly, although a bit awkwardly, and inquiring about breakfast. Harry peered at him, studying the tips of his ears and nose for a hint of Molly’s temper. He couldn’t see any.

“Well? What are you staring at? Can we eat, or not?”

“Sure,” Harry grinned, the relief flooding like cool water all the way down to his fingertips. “Just let me grab a quick shower.”

“I’m hungry,” Ron said, and drew his wand, giving Harry a dose of Scourgeify. “That’ll do for now. Let’s go.”

Harry looked down at his clothes, which were no longer wrinkled. His hair felt suddenly combed (though still unruly), and his whole body felt refreshed. “Thanks,” he said, impressed.

Ron shrugged and they walked towards the portrait hole together.

“Listen, Ron,” Harry said awkwardly after they had ducked through, “I suppose I really haven’t been a very good friend to you lately….but what I was trying to say, earlier, was…thank you, for helping me last night.”

Ron didn’t say anything, just pursed his lips and nodded. They walked in silence to the Great Hall, the smell of fried eggs and bacon growing stronger and stronger. Harry’s stomach growled fiercely; he felt like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“You know Harry,” Ron said thoughtfully as they walked through the enormous double doors, “I think that part of me did know how Hermione felt about you.”

Harry looked over at him, surprised.

Ron gave a weak smile. “I don’t even know what I’ve been feeling for her, all this time. Whether we were just friends, or…I think that it was partly that I wanted her to pick me instead of you. I know it sounds stupid…But I just…wanted somebody to pick me.” He shrugged as they sat down, and reached out to grab a slice of toast off of the floating tray in front of them.

Harry looked at Ron carefully, his eyes floating down to the strange little pin made of feathers and bottle caps. “Someone will,” he said.

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

“Potter! Do you have any idea how many school rules you’ve broken?”

“Yes Professor.”

“Traipsing around in the middle of the night after horcruxes! And dragging Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley along with you!” Harry winced. McGonagall’s face was not only stern, it was stern to the point of exploding. Her lips had formed into a grim, thin line. “You could have all been killed! I may have been head of Gryffindor house, but if there were points to take away this year, I would take them all, this instant!”

“I’m sorry Professor,” Harry said, looking very properly down at his shoes.

“I certainly hope so!” she exclaimed, and Harry tried very hard to continue to look at his shoes. But it was difficult, because they weren’t alone: Professor Lupin and Tonks were there, and so was Mad-Eye Moody, and he was very interested to see what they thought of the horcrux.

“Now, I realize that you’ve had the…run of the school, during your time here,” she said seriously, “That you’ve managed to save numerous students, on these little adventures…that you’ve had to battle against your enemies, and in doing so have needed to break the rules…that….that….”

“Ahem,” said Professor Lupin, sensing that the Headmistress was losing her train of thought. McGonagall dropped her forehead into her hand and gave a dismissing wave, obviously too exhausted with Harry to keep on yelling at him.

“I think what the Headmistress is trying to say, Harry,” Lupin said, trying not to smile too much, “Is that there has to be a limit to rule breaking. We’ve told you numerous times before that the Order is behind you, that we’ll keep you informed of the entire situation, and it would be nice if you would do the same.”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said earnestly. “It’s just that….Well, I didn’t think you’d let me go.”

“Going alone was a poor choice!” McGonagall exclaimed, rallying her strength.

“I wasn’t alone; I had Ron and Hermione,” Harry said simply, and she sighed and waved him off.

“Well, all methods aside, you can’t really dispute his results,” Tonks interjected, glancing over her shoulder at Mad-Eye Moody.

Moody was standing at the rear of the group, but now he moved to the forefront, and Harry could see that he was carrying something large in his arms, something dark and flowing….

“The horcrux!” Harry exclaimed. “Why haven’t you destroyed it?!”

The professors exchanged uncomfortable looks. “Destroying a horcrux is dangerous business, Harry,” Professor Lupin said gravely. “Remember what happened to Dumbledore’s hand.”

Harry looked at the horcrux apprehensively, remembering Dumbledore’s blackened wound. But it was just a bit of cloth; and he had destroyed the diary himself. Nothing bad had happened to him….well, except being bitten by the basilisk, but that had nothing to do with the destroying of the horcrux.

“But I destroyed Tom Riddle’s diary,” Harry said quietly.

“We’re well aware of that,” Moody grumbled. “And nothing happened to you…no burning, no howls of pain…not even a little bit of crying…”

“But we don’t know why,” Headmistress McGonagall said sharply. “Very little is known about horcruxes; for all we know, each one must be destroyed differently-”

“Give it to me,” Harry said suddenly.

“Harry, it’s not safe; don’t try anything,” Lupin warned, even as Moody moved forward to lay the cloth in Harry’s arms.

The minute he touched it he wanted to throw it down. He could feel the power inside of it as he unfurled it and studied its length. And it wasn’t just a bit of cloth, it was a richly embroidered cape, studded with sapphires and detailed with ribbons, obviously one of Rowena Ravenclaw’s favorite garments, and from the way it shimmered, it may have held some magic in it as well.

“Has anyone put it on?” Harry asked.

“No,” Moody said. “It might be magic; and who knows what it does-”

“It could be a trap, for all we know-” Lupin whispered.

But Harry wasn’t really listening to them anymore. He was too busy feeling the curious burn in his scar as he held the cape, too busy thinking of Dumbledore’s hand, of Dumbledore’s death… “We have to destroy it,” he said quietly.

“We will, Harry, we just need time-”

“We have to destroy it now!” Harry’s heart was suddenly pounding; he was thinking of his parents, of Sirius, of Ron and Hermione…he was thinking of everything he had lost, and everything that he could lose. There was a great warmth in his chest, and the air was filling with smoke from somewhere….had there been an attack? He was so dizzy…He could hear the professors shouting, but they sounded miles away.

**********

“How did you do that?”

Harry blinked. He was still sitting in the chair next to the Headmistress’ desk, but he was slumped down, and Moody, Lupin, McGonagall and Tonks were all leaning over him with worried looks on their faces.

“Are you all right, Harry?”

“I’m fine, Professor Lupin. What happened?”

Remus looked at him worriedly. “You don’t remember?”

“No, I…I got dizzy,” Harry started, sitting up, and then he looked down at his lap. He was covered in a thick layer of black ash. “What?”

“Aye, that’s all that’s left of it,” Moody said gravely. “And not a scratch on you. So much for burning, or howls of pain…or crying of any sort.”

“You mean I-?”

“Destroyed it,” McGonagall said, her voice soft with awe.

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

“You destroyed it?” Hermione and Ron exclaimed together. “Just like that?”

They were sitting in the library, trying to catch up on their potions essays, but the subject of the horcrux kept coming up, and they weren’t making very much progress. Not even Hermione could keep her quill moving for more than ten seconds at a stretch.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly ‘just like that’,” Harry said, remembering his burning scar and heart, and his dizzy-ness.

“How did you do it?” Ron asked, completely ignoring his scroll of parchment, which had a total of two sentences written on it.

“It was like,” Harry paused as he struggled to explain. “It was like how it was with Pettigrew, which was like how it was with Quirrell…except that it wasn’t…this time I think I knew what I was doing.”

“You could control it?” Hermione asked, trying to talk and write at the same time.

“I think so…but not exactly….I mean, I knew that I wanted to destroy it, and then it just happened…” Harry shook his head. How could he explain it to them when he didn’t really understand it himself? He tried to remember how it felt to destroy it, knowing that he had to…for his parents…for Ron and Hermione…but as hard as he tried, his scar and heart refused to even tingle.

“That’s really-” Hermione began, and then stopped, as Ginny walked by their table with her head held high. She didn’t pause, or give any indication that she had noticed them at all.

Hermione looked down uncomfortably. “I guess she’s not speaking to us,” she said quietly.

Harry looked around. The entire library had gone quiet, just for that one wordless encounter. He frowned. Of course Ginny knew about him and Hermione…this was Hogwarts, after all. The whole school knew.

“Well actually, she’s speaking to me,” Ron said with an awkward grimace. “But only to tell me that I need to be a man and stand up to you,” he looked at Harry, “and get my girlfriend back.” He glanced at Hermione, who blushed. Ron picked up his quill. “But don’t worry, Harry, I’ve no intention of doing that…considering what a homework tyrant she is, I think I may have just dodged a stinging hex here.”

Harry smiled as Ron hummed a tune and scribbled away on his essay, completely ignoring the incredulous expression on Hermione’s face. That is, until she punched him in the arm.

“Ow! What? I’m writing, aren’t I?”

“Ron Weasley, if you think I’m going to let you flunk out just because I’m not your girlfriend then you’ve got another thing coming!”

“Of course I don’t think that; you weren’t my girlfriend for the first six years we’ve known each other, and that never stopped you from harping!”

“Harping!? Well you could use it! Just look at that topic sentence! And ‘slug horn’ was our teacher last year, not an ingredient in regeneration potions!” Hermione began to dig in her bag for the self-correcting ink.

“I knew we shouldn’t have saved you from that troll,” Ron grinned, and Hermione sputtered for a minute before shaking her head and grinning back.

“Are you going to let him talk to me like that, Harry?” she asked him, arching her eyebrow in that challenging way that she had.

“I suppose she’s right, Ron, I’ll have to start sticking up for her now,” Harry smiled.

Ron moaned. “Oh, you’re not bloody serious…”

Hermione was smirking smugly. “All right, enough goofing off. Back to work.” She flicked the feather of her quill in both of their directions.

Harry watched her affectionately for a few seconds before trying to continue with his essay, which dealt with various commonly used recovery potions. He just couldn’t think of the right way to prepare clotting cream. He glanced up at Hermione, who was scribbling away, and then over at Ron, who was also watching her. He now had three sentences on his parchment.

Harry sighed. “Then again, maybe we really shouldn’t have saved her from that troll…”

And then he and Ron had a good-natured laugh until Hermione punched them both in the arms.

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

Harry was walking quickly through the hallways with his head down. He was trying to make it on time to meet Professor Lupin for his Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, one lesson in an endless stream of lessons it seemed, because since his destruction of Ravenclaw’s cape, the Order of the Phoenix had gone into overdrive, its members both scattering and pouring in, and each one wanted Harry trained in different techniques than the last. He’d barely had five minutes alone with Hermione, as rapid preparations were being made which required her help as well; they were trying to duplicate her talisman in order to allow the deployment of several retrieval teams. Three of the seven pieces of Voldemort’s soul had been destroyed, and possibly a fourth, if the mysterious R.A. B. had made good on their promise, and it seemed to Harry that the more horcruxes they found, the more paranoid the order became that Voldemort would somehow discover what they were planning. But following that line of thinking, he wondered if it was such a good idea to let Hogwarts become such an ant’s nest of activity.

On the bright side of such busyness, he hadn’t had any time to think about Ginny, or to stop and try to talk to her when they happened to pass each other in the halls. From what Ron said, late at night in the Common Room when they had finally finished working for the day, she was still extremely angry, and was no longer even speaking to him.

“Excuse me,” Harry panted, as he nearly trampled a tiny first year, who was pulled out of the way by her friends at the last moment. He could hear them start to whisper about him as he passed, but these days he didn’t mind; the whispering had changed from wide eyed stares and the hissing of ‘he’s The One!’ to sly stares and the hissing of ‘he’s The One, and isn’t he dating Hermione Granger? And didn’t she save his life?’

Harry smiled to himself, wondering if Hermione was noticing a bit of the same thing, and then he turned the corner and ran straight into Ginny and Luna Lovegood.

“Hi Harry,” Luna said dreamily, and Harry said hello back, glad of the excuse to look at her instead of Ginny, who was glaring at him. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Oh, a…um…Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson,” he said uncomfortably, but Luna didn’t notice. She smiled and cocked her head to one side. Her necklace of bottle caps jangled.

“I remember when we were all in Dumbledore’s Army,” she said wistfully. “And you taught us all about defense….you did so well…do you remember that, Ginny?”

Harry glanced reluctantly over at her, but she just shifted her glare briefly to Luna before stalking away, passing Harry as though he didn’t exist. Harry frowned. He had been angry at Ginny, for what she had done to Hermione, but he didn’t want things to stay like this. She was his best friend’s sister…he didn’t want it to always be like it was with him and Cho Chang, too uncomfortable to say two civil words to each other…

“She’s just upset, Harry.”

He turned back to Luna with surprise. Her voice had lost all of it’s usual dreaminess. “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he said honestly. “Hermione and I…we didn’t know…well, at least I didn’t know, and Hermione never would have done anything-”

“I know that, and you know that, and Hermione knows that,” Luna said, affixing her now famous roaring lion hat onto the top of her head, “But Ginny isn’t so sure.”

“I know how it must seem,” Harry said, trying to avoid looking directly at the hat, “I just wish Hermione and I would’ve figured things out sooner, so no one would have gotten hurt.”

“So do I,” said Luna seriously. “I’ve spent so many hours listening to Ron puzzle through his feelings for Hermione.” She looked down.

“I’m glad that he has you to confide in,” Harry said.

“Yes, ‘Loony’ Lovegood is an excellent confidante…you can tell her anything…because who would believe her, if she told…”

Harry looked at her, at the bottle cap necklace, and the lion hat. And also at the very pretty, very sweet face beneath the hat. “Ron doesn’t think of you like that. He thinks you’re great- he..er…he really likes that pin you made,” he finished , a bit lamely he thought, but Luna brightened.

“The gwimbly woll!? He said he’d go out with me someday, looking for real ones,” she said excitedly. “We’d have to go deep into the blackest part of Muddgutt’s Delta….” Her face fell. “I’m sure he was only making fun of me.” She smiled and shrugged. “Everybody does.” And then, before Harry could think to say anything else, she walked away.

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

Harry’s DADA lesson left him with the usual scrapes and bruises, and he entered the Common Room looking forward to a bit of a dueling cream fight with Hermione. He was thinking of just how nice a shoulder rub would feel, and smiled lazily at the Fat Lady, who rolled her eyes at him. But when the portrait swung open, he stopped short.

Everyone in the Common Room was motionless, aside from Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who were shouting at each other. Or rather, Ron and Ginny were shouting, and Hermione was looking nervously from one to the other. And then the portrait snapped shut, very loudly. Harry mentally cursed the Fat Lady as everyone, including his three arguing friends, turned to stare at him.

After a few very uncomfortable seconds, Ginny shouted. “Oh, will the two of you just leave me bloody well alone?! I never want to speak to any of you again!” And then she ran for the stairs in a huff.

“Well I’m family,” Ron shouted after her. “You can’t avoid me forever! We live at the same house!”

Harry walked cautiously over to them, each footfall sounding extremely loud in the uneasy silence.

“I guess she’s not ready to talk to us yet,” Hermione said awkwardly.

“That was a lot of shouting,” Harry said quietly.

“Could be worse,” shrugged Ron. “We could have gigantic bogies flying around our faces.”

Harry and Hermione gave him disgusted looks, and then they all three glanced over their shoulders at the rest of the staring Gryffindors, who were making no attempt whatsoever to conceal their curiosity.

“Um, I’m going down to visit Buckbeak and Hagrid,” Hermione said.

“We’ll join you,” Harry and Ron said together, and they quickly filed out of the Common Room.

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

“Nice night,” Ron said as they walked across the cool, moonlit grass.

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled, watching the reflection of the white crescent in Hermione’s eyes as she looked up at it.

“Makes me forget all about what I’m going to have to tell Mum.”

“What do you have to tell Mrs. Weasley?” Hermione asked.

Ron looked at her incredulously. “About Ginny! Upsetting her like we have…I think we can all expect a round of really good Howlers…”

Harry and Hermione winced at the thought as they walked up to Hagrid’s hut. The windows were all lit with a warm yellow glow. It would be nice to see Hagrid again, the three of them together…perhaps he had some new horrible beast to show them. Hermione peered around the corners of the hut.

“No sign of Buckbeak,” she said. “Maybe he’s inside with Hagrid.” She knocked firmly on the door, and waited a few seconds before trying the knob. It creaked open easily, allowing the smell of Hagrid’s unchewable treacle fudge to reach their nostrils. But Hagrid himself was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is he, I wonder,” Hermione said thoughtfully, and then called out his name.

“Well, it’s not like he can be hiding in here,” Ron said, looking doubtfully around the empty hut.

“Maybe he’s out in the pumpkin patch,” Hermione said, and whistled for Buckbeak. “Do you see him anywhere, Harry?”

But Harry wasn’t listening. He was looking around the hut with growing unease. Something was wrong. There was a half-full cup of tea sitting by the window, and the fire was quickly burning down to soot. He walked carefully towards the back of the hut.

“Hermione, Ron, come here,” he said, and the tone of his voice brought them at once. They stood behind him, and stared. The back door was wide open, and swinging in the breeze.

“I don’t like this,” Ron said, edging closer and staring out into the dark of the forest. “And what is that thing…lying there…is that a rock? Or-”

“Buckbeak!” Hermione shrieked, and vaulted through the open door.

“Hermione! Wait!” Harry tried to grasp her but she was already gone, running headlong into the dark to where the hippogriff lay motionless at the edge of the trees. When they reached her she was on her knees beside him, fluttering her hands over his wings. She looked up at Harry tearfully. “Is he-?”

Harry bent down and touched the hippogriff’s beak. For a moment he felt nothing and felt a great weight descend in his stomach, but then Buckbeak exhaled, and inhaled with a hitch. “He’s all right,” Harry said, with relief.

“But he’s not,” Hermione exclaimed, and he wasn’t; he was covered with cuts, and there was a pool of blood around his head. “What did this? Where’s Hagrid?”

“Look at the tracks,” Ron gasped, pointing to the ground beside them. There were definite signs of a struggle: deep scrapes in the earth and dirt kicked everywhere. And worst of all, a large patch of blood and flattened grass, and then more tracks that led into the forest.

“Hagrid,” Harry said, and stared into the dark. “Hermione, go back and get help.”

“No! You’re not going in there alone!”

“There’s no time to argue. Whatever did this to Buckbeak got Hagrid too, and it was in a hurry; it didn’t even take the time to kill Buckbeak. We have to go now.” Harry drew his wand, and Hermione looked sorrowfully at the hippogriff and then stood and drew hers as well. “Ron-”

“I’m not leaving you two, so don’t even ask,” Ron snapped, his wand already drawn. “But if this something could do this to Buckbeak, and could get a half-giant who must’ve been spitting mad, I don’t exactly want to tangle with it alone…”

“Look, we’re wasting time!” Harry said impatiently.

Ron’s eyes widened. “Shoot sparks into the air,” he said quickly. “Like you did in the maze during the Triwizard Tournament.”

“But whatever it is,” Harry said doubtfully, “It’ll see us coming…”

“Well we weren’t exactly going to sneak up on it, were we?” Hermione asked, liking Ron’s idea. “Shoot the sparks. Someone has to see it and come…someone from the Order…”

Harry looked at them both for a moment and then raised his wand, shooting off a fury of red sparks. And then he started to run alongside the tracks, with Ron and Hermione right on his heels. “All right, keep shooting them,” he panted, and saw each of their sparks reflected in his glasses like a desperate celebration.

He only hoped that somebody was watching.

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

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I worked as fast as I could, but thank you for the most excellent reviews! And so many! I think I replied to you all, except those of you who signed Anonymously, because I can’t be sure you’re getting my replies anyway. But if you signed, and I missed you, yell at me. A lot.

Okay anyway, in the next chapter, something bad happens! And things may get emotional for Harry and Hermione…which provides ample opportunity for fluff! And come on, have you guys forgiven Ron yet?

Thanks for the support Harmonians….keep up the theorizing….who needs anvils when we’ve got subtext? What kind of mystery writer leaves behind a trail of ANVILS anyway?

12. Chapter Twelve: The Curse of the Red Thingys

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Twelve: The Curse of the Red Thingys

Disclaimer: This isn’t exactly a Harry Potter disclaimer, more like a disclaimer for the bottom of the chapter. I’m going to get all “read-between-the-lineist” and delusional in my A/N this week. It might get ranty. You have been warned.

And oh yeah, I don’t own any of this crap.

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

Harry, Ron and Hermione were running headlong through the forest. Harry and Ron had both cast lumos, to keep from tripping over roots, and to try to see the crumpled path that was left by whatever had taken Hagrid. Hermione was in the rear, still sending up hopeful red sparks.

Harry’s ears were straining, trying to hear anything up ahead of them, but with all of the panting that he was doing, and the thrashing around that Ron and Hermione were doing, he couldn’t hear a thing. But nor could he slow down. Because there were now virtually no signs of struggle on the path. Only drag marks and faint, scratchy footprints.

“I don’t hear anybody coming from the castle,” Ron croaked breathlessly. “What if no one sees the sparks?-Whoa, Harry, look out!”

Harry felt Ron grab his arm and skidded to a stop, directly underneath the gaze of a particularly fierce-looking centaur.

“Bane,” Harry panted, backing up a few steps and lowering his wand a bit so that it didn’t directly illuminate the centaur’s face.

Bane didn’t look at all pleased to see him. His enormous black body was practically trembling with rage, and he was stamping, and pawing the ground feverishly with his fore-hoof. Harry couldn’t help but notice the bow and quiver of arrows that he was carrying.

“This forest is forbidden. You are not allowed here.”

Harry felt Ron inch behind him, but Harry squared his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he said to Bane, “but something’s taken Hagrid-”

“That is none of our concern.” The centaur stomped his hoof again, and Harry stomped his own foot, in frustration.

“But it’s Hagrid- he’s always been good to you, respected you- and now something really bad is in your forest….don’t you care?”

Bane crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Hagrid has brought “bad” things into our forest before,” he said lowly, and without much interest.

Harry was losing patience. They couldn’t be stuck here all night arguing with a stubborn centaur. He was just thinking of nice ways to stun him when Hermione stepped up.

“Please Bane,” she said evenly. “We know that we’re not to come here, we’ve known that since we were….foals….” she looked awkwardly at Harry and Ron, “But Hagrid is our friend and he’s in trouble. We couldn’t let him get hurt, even if it meant angering you….we had to show him some loyalty…” Hermione was looking very respectfully at the ground as she spoke.

Harry was watching Bane closely; Hermione was being very smart, he couldn’t try to stop them now, not after she’d emphasized their loyalty…centaurs loved that noble stuff…

“As soon as we find Hagrid, we’ll leave the forest, but please let us pass,” she said, raising her eyes imploringly. “Look at the tracks; he’s already hurt- he might be…even worse…please, we have to hurry!”

Bane blinked at her slowly. And he didn’t look at the scuffle of track marks on the ground. But after a few moments, he uncrossed his arms.

“Find Hagrid and take him out of the forest,” he ordered, and began to walk away. “We will not interfere. But nor will we help you.”

“Er, thank you…” Ron said uncertainly after him, just as his black tail disappeared through the trees.

Harry looked at Hermione gratefully. If he had had to stun Bane, there was no telling what kind of trouble they would’ve had from the centaurs later on. “Hermione that was brilliant.”

“Belatedly,” she grumbled, shaking her head. When Harry and Ron looked at her blankly, she said, “I’m an idiot! We’re all idiots, shooting sparks up into the air like a trail to follow….what if whatever took Hagrid decided to double back on us…”

Ron cast a worried glance back over his shoulder. “Well, we had to get help somehow,” he said.

“I know,” Hermione continued, “But what were we thinking? We’re practically in the Order of the Phoenix, we should know this by now-”

“We should’ve sent a patronus,” Harry said quietly, feeling very stupid himself for not remembering.

“Well, let’s do it now anyway,” Hermione muttered. “Harry, would you send your stag? I’d send my otter, but it might take it forever to gambol up the castle steps.”

Harry cleared his mind and raised his wand, pointing it towards the castle. Then he chose a happy memory (which were surprisingly easier to come by, these days) and thought the words, Expecto Patronum, very forcefully inside his head. There was a jet of silver light, and the stag leapt out, hesitating not a moment before racing off the way they had come.

“Getting pretty good at that non-verbal stuff, aren’t you?” Ron smiled, and then looked down at the tracks.

“Let’s go,” Harry said, and started off again. But he wasn’t running this time, because he had a vague idea of where the tracks were going. And he was getting the distinct feeling that the path of trampled forest that they were following was meant to be followed.

After about a quarter mile, the tracks diverged into the brush, and ended just where Harry had feared they might…in the clearing where he and Hermione had faced the centaurs with Umbridge two years ago. And lying in the middle of the clearing, motionless, was something that appeared to be a great boulder, or a very small hill.

“Hagrid,” Ron and Hermione gasped together, and rushed out to him. Harry’s scar was tingling fiercely, but he had no choice but to follow, though he kept his eyes on the trees around them.

“He’s just unconscious,” Hermione was saying, as she leaned over the half-giant, trying to assess his wounds, which were many. As she leaned, it was very clear that he was still alive, because she was being heaved up and down with the force of his breathing. “We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey; look at all these deep scratches…” Hermione’s lip trembled. “Just like Buckbeak….he’s lost so much blood- why didn’t I bring some of that blood-replenishing potion?! I stockpiled it in his hut; it was right there!”

Harry placed his hand on her shoulder and bent down beside her. “He’ll be all right Hermione,” he said gently. “We just need to figure out how to get him back to the castle.” Harry looked at Hagrid’s hulking form doubtfully. He must weigh as much as a baby elephant…maybe even a juvenile elephant, Harry thought. “Maybe we could all three cast ‘Wingardium Leviosa’,” he suggested, and his heart beat a bit more warmly as Hermione smiled weakly in spite of herself.

And then he felt Ron tap him on the shoulder. Harry brushed him off. “I was just kidding Ron, I know that one Wingardium Leviosa would be plenty-”

“N-No, Harry,” Ron stammered, making Harry and Hermione look up at him. His face had gone pasty white in the moonlight.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“We’ve got bigger problems,” Ron said shrilly, his wand hand shaking. “Bigger, hairier, problems…”

The three of them watched, their eyes wide, as tall figures on spindly legs emerged into the moonlit clearing on all sides, materializing from the mist, stepping slowly, and disjointedly towards them.

Harry and Hermione got to their feet.

“Why do they have to do that,” Hermione cringed, glancing around.

“Why do we keep walking into it,” Harry muttered, and felt Ron tug at his sleeve.

“Is that them?” Ron asked in a frightened whisper. “Are they the red thingys? They move like spiders…”

“Don’t worry, Ron,” Hermione said bracingly. “Harry’s patronus has surely reached the castle by now…Professor McGonagall and the others will be coming-”

“Not soon enough!” growled a voice almost directly behind them, and they whirled around.

“You…you can talk…” Harry stared incredulously at the thing that was crouched on the opposite side of Hagrid, its yellow lamplight eyes mocking them as it dug into Hagrid’s prone form with its foreclaws, drawing fresh blood. He watched in horror as the black lips stretched wide in what he assumed was a smile, revealing every single razor sharp fang that was housed inside the elongated snout.

“What do you want?” Harry said, keeping his voice hard even though he wanted to recoil. The stench of carrion was heavy in the air, the scent of old death, and the creature had moved so fast…Harry shuddered as he thought of it creeping up behind their backs.

“Nothing much…” said the creature, its mouth moving unnaturally as it spoke. “Just perhaps another taste of Weasley…” The quick, yellow eyes shifted to Ron, who was looking at it now with more wonderment than terror.

“I know you…” Ron said, wagging his wand at the thing. “I know your voice; you’re Fenrir Greyback…You bit my brother!” Ron was trembling with rage. Harry placed a hand on his wand arm.

“How is it possible…” Hermione whispered, and Harry was wondering the same thing. The creature hunched before them looked very little like the werewolf he remembered. It had the wolfish features, but it was much larger, and its fur was red, and ragged. Its legs were too elongated, like spindles, and seemed to have one too many joints. The teeth were too large and too many for the snout…He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be bitten by one. It was a disgusting, funhouse mirror of an animal.

“But it’s only the three quarter moon,” Harry said, pointing out the largest inconsistency, aside of course, from the fact that the beast could talk.

“Curious, isn’t it,” Greyback said, beginning to skulk around to their side of Hagrid’s body.

Harry’s scar was itching terribly. He brushed at it absently with the back of his hand as he tried to keep Hermione and Ron behind him, but realized that they were being closed in on all sides; there were at least twenty other werewolves moving towards them on upright legs, each one as unnatural and disjointed as Greyback.

“Why are you following me?” Harry asked angrily, as he wondered when the order was going to show up. “Don’t you remember what happened to Peter Pettigrew?”

But instead of eliciting the apprehension that Harry had hoped, his question only made the werewolf laugh.

“Ah yes, poor Peter….fallen victim to ‘The Power that He Knows Not’,” the werewolf snickered, moving around Hagrid’s body until he was standing directly in front of them. “As if, there was ever anything…that He did not know.”

Harry forced himself to keep his face stony as Greyback continued.

“Did you think he didn’t know what you and that old fool Dumbledore were up to? All of your traipsing around…Digging up the past…Destroying horcruxes….”

“Yes,” Harry snapped, bristling at the mention of Dumbledore’s name. “That’s exactly what we’ve been doing…Four gone so far, and as soon as we find the other two,” and for some reason this made Greyback sneer, “I’m going after Voldemort. And I’ll probably find those traitors Snape and Malfoy on my way.”

“Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy…” Fenrir exclaimed with mock surprise. “Why, they’ve gone to ground; the cowards- everyone knows that the boy didn’t complete his task, and that dear Severus betrayed the dark lord by entering into an unbreakable vow…” He squinted his great wolf eyes and peered into Harry’s face. “In fact, after we’ve disposed of you, we are to track them down and kill them.” The wolf’s face took on an eager expression. “I’m going to rip out that boy’s throat…Severus will be thrown to the pack.” This announcement brought hungry snarls and the snapping of fangs from the others; Ron and Hermione backed in close to Harry.

“And speaking of horcruxes,” Greyback chuckled, looking at Harry furtively. “Don’t you think that it’s odd, your destroying them I mean….when you are one?”

“He’s not!” Hermione cried, coming out from behind Harry. “You’re lying!”

The werewolf shrugged. “I may be…but it seems that it would explain many things…”

“Of course it would,” Harry scoffed angrily. “But you’re a bit slow on the uptake. Remus Lupin thought of that weeks ago.”

“Remus Lupin is a disgrace!” Greyback roared, lunging forward with his teeth and claws bared.

“Stop Fenrir!”

The shout came from another werewolf in the pack, and Harry didn’t recognize the voice. But whoever it was, Fenrir halted his assault mere inches from Harry’s neck, and retreated, panting and snarling. “You’re right,” he muttered, “I must remember orders…we are to bring back his head…”

Harry heard Hermione’s breath catch in her throat. Sweat was trickling down the side of his face. Where was the order? Why hadn’t they come? Had the castle been attacked? Harry looked desperately around them for a way out, but they were completely surrounded, and from the looks of it, Hagrid wasn’t going to be waking up anytime soon. They were on their own.

We have to break them up, he thought. We have to fight our way through the pack and make a run for it…we’ve fought them off before…Discreetly, Harry moved closer to Hermione, and stepped on her toes. Then he twisted his foot sharply to the left, making her wince. He would apologize to her later, but for now he just hoped that she got the message. They had to make a unified break to the left, blasting hexes as they went. And they had to go all at once. There wouldn’t be any time to go back for someone. He felt her move closer to Ron and pass along his instructions.

“GO!” Harry shouted, and they sprang forward and to the left, pointing their wands wildly and sending werewolves flying. Harry could hear Ron yelling his hexes behind him, and vaulted forward as he felt hot, rancid breath on the back of his neck. He heard the fangs snap shut close to his ear. Too close. If one had gotten so close to him, and he was in the lead….

Harry glanced back over his shoulder. Ron and Hermione were both caught, their faces frozen in fear.

“Run Harry!” Hermione shouted, but it was no use. The pack had recovered from their initial shock, and were descending on him again. His heart sank. They hadn’t even come close to escaping; it had been a laughable attempt. As he walked backwards, away from the advancing wolves, he stumbled over the body of one of their fallen, and closed his eyes as he heard the nearest creature lunge for him.

“Stop this instant!”

Everyone froze at the sound of Professor McGonagall’s voice. She sounded as though she had just come across a few rabble-rousing school children rather than a pack of mutated werewolves. But nevertheless, Harry had never been happier to see her. He rolled to his feet and raised his wand. Tonks, Remus and Moody were all in tow, their wands drawn, as well as Professors Flitwick and Sprout.

“Let them go,” Professor Lupin said in a hard voice, but the werewolves made no move to obey.

At the sight of Lupin, Greyback began to move through the pack, closer to where the order stood, his jaws snapping open and shut with rage. “Remus Lupin,” he hissed. “Disgrace….Coward….Half-breed…” With each insult, blood-flecked foam flew from the werewolf’s lips. “You protect that boy….you deny yourself….you are nothing!”

“At least I’m my own man, Greyback,” Remus said evenly. “I’m not scampering about doing someone else’s bidding.”

“Fool! It is my bidding,” Greyback snarled, laughing maniacally. “I am my own master! I am the Dark Lord!”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Remus said simply.

“I’ve found it,” the werewolf corrected him. “I’m faster, smarter, and stronger. And I never have to wear that disgusting human face, ever again.”

Harry was studying Greyback very carefully. There was something he was missing….his scar was positively burning now….what was it….what….

“They’re horcruxes,” he said quietly, and everyone turned to stare at him in shock, including the wolves.

“Impossible,” gasped McGonagall. “He could never split his soul into so many pieces…and what of the law of seven…”

Harry’s heart was racing as he looked at the creatures, particularly at the ones holding Hermione and Ron.

“It can’t be…it can’t be…”

“It is,” Harry said forcefully. “He’s found a way to split his soul indefinitely, and he’s abandoned the law of seven…I don’t know how, and I don’t know why. I guess that Greyback isn’t the only one who’s lost his mind.”

Greyback bared his teeth at Harry approvingly. “Very good boy…I’ve been waiting for ages for you to figure it out.”

Harry glared at him. “You should wish that I hadn’t.” An expression passed briefly across the werewolf’s face that was vaguely reminiscent of a puppy surprised in the rubbish bin. “Don’t you know who I am? Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Harry said darkly. “I’m the chosen one, you idiot.”

Greyback’s lips curled back in rage but Harry barely noticed. His scar was burning white hot. He could do it. Suddenly he knew that he could. He smiled ruefully.

“I….destroy….horcruxes.”

Greyback’s eyes widened, and then he roared in rage. Before Harry could move, he had reached back and seized Ron by the shoulders, and was tearing into his neck.

Ron was jerking away, his robes quickly becoming soaked with blood….he was screaming….

Greyback tossed Ron onto the ground, where he lay motionless. “Bite her!” He bellowed to the werewolf holding Hermione, but she beat him to it, and dug her teeth into the beast’s paw, making it yip and release her. Harry watched with horror was she scuttled across the grass to where Ron lay.

There were werewolves coming towards him. There were hexes flying through the air. There was shouting, and growling and bodies crashing to the earth. But all Harry could see was Ron’s bleeding form, and Hermione leaning over him, defenseless, her wand lying broken on the ground, trying in vain to shield his body with her own.

Destroy them, Harry thought calmly, clearing his mind of everything but that thought. All of them…

Harry closed his eyes. His scar felt ready to explode. Fulminate, he thought clearly, saying the incantation for lightning that Professor Lupin had taught him just weeks ago. For a moment, his world crackled with electricity, and then he heard howls of pain, and sharp cracks in all directions. And then his world seemed to burn.

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

When Harry opened his eyes, he could see no one in the clearing. Before him, the ground was charred and blackened in places, and he assumed that those were the marks left by the werewolves as they burned to ash. He reached up and touched his scar gingerly. It was still throbbing, but it no longer ached or tingled.

“Harry!….Harry!”

He turned at the sound of Hermione’s voice. She was still kneeling over Ron, pressing her hands against the wounds in his neck. Professor McGonagall was kneeling over him as well, as was Professor Lupin, and Tonks. Moody and the other professors were trying to rouse Hagrid.

Harry walked over as though in a trance. Ron’s throat was ripped out….he might be dead. And it was his fault…he had brought him here….he had angered Greyback…Harry looked down at his friend in shock. Ron’s skin was deathly white, and he was moaning feebly. He was alive, but just barely.

“He’ll be all right,” Hermione said bravely, even as she trembled. “He’ll be fine…Harry, this wasn’t your fault…”

“He bit him,” Remus said sadly. “Greyback….he bit him.”

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut on tears of remorse.

“Get Madam Pomfrey!” Hermione screamed.

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

“Get out of the way!”

“Mrs. Weasley, please, let us tend to him-”

“Ron…Ronald Weasley, you wake up this instant…oh…my baby, my baby…”

The entire hospital wing was filled with the sound of Mrs. Weasley’s moaning, along with the clanging of washbasins and the clinking of instruments. Madam Pomfrey had her hands full, dealing with a room full of panicked family members, worried professors, and several Healers who had been quickly brought in from St. Mungo’s and who were mostly just getting in her way.

Harry and Hermione were standing in the back of the room, trying to peer through the jostling confusion of people. Healers were moving back and forth between Ron’s bed and the collapsed bed that they had placed Hagrid onto.

Hermione kept saying, “He’ll be all right….he’ll be all right,” in a very unsteady tone of voice. Harry couldn’t quite seem to form words at all. He just kept thinking of the attack; the moment that Ron was bitten was replaying in his mind on a constant reel…he searched every minute, every second, for anything that he could have done differently…that he could have done better…

One of the Healers from St. Mungo’s passed by them, covered in Ron’s blood. Harry shut his eyes and Hermione gave a small cry. He felt her arms go around him, and held her tightly. Wake up, Ron, he thought desperately. Please, just wake up…

Madam Pomfrey shoved her way through the horde. “Everyone out!” she screamed. “Everyone out besides the medical staff! WE MUST HAVE ROOM TO DO OUR JOB!”

Arthur Weasley, looking very pale, took his wife gently by the shoulders and tried to nudge her from the room. “Come along Molly,” he said calmly. “They’ll take care of him; we’re just in the way…” Mrs. Weasley leaned against her husband and walked out without a struggle. She had exhausted herself with crying.

“I can’t face them,” Harry said, looking after the Weasleys. Fred and George had arrived, as well as Bill and Fleur. Each of the sons were trying to keep their mother on her feet.

“We’ll just go to the Common Room; they’re so upset, they won’t notice if we just go by,” Hermione said softly, and then turned to where the professors were standing in an awkward and very useless bunch. “Professor McGonagall, would you send for us if anything changes?”

“Of- Of course,” she nodded, her eyes wet with tears behind her spectacles. She had one hand resting on Hagrid’s beaten chest.

“Let’s go,” Hermione said, turning back to Harry.

Harry took her hand gratefully, and they walked out of the hospital wing, and straight down the hall towards the Common Room. Harry winced with guilt as they passed Mrs. Weasley…he felt like such a coward for not going to her….for not saying something….but he had no idea what to say.

When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Luna was just stepping out. She looked at Harry with a terrified expression.

“It’s true, isn’t it!” she demanded, wringing her bottle cap necklace in her hands. “Ronald….he’s really hurt, isn’t he?” Luna was shaking her head sadly. “I know that it is…I’ve been trying to get Ginny to come out, but she won’t…she just stares and stares into the fireplace…” The poor girl looked desperately at Hermione. “I want to stay with her, I do, but….I have to go and see if Ron’s all right!”

“You go, Luna,” Hermione said tenderly. “We’ll stay with Ginny.”

Luna disappeared down the stairs in a flash of robes almost before Hermione had finished speaking.

“I don’t think that Ginny’s going to want much of our company,” Harry said tonelessly.

“She needs someone, Harry,” Hermione whispered, and to their surprise, the Fat Lady swung open without a password.

“My poor little Gryffindor,” she moaned, and Harry and Hermione realized that she was crying. “You’ll tell me if he’s all right, won’t you? Won’t you?”

“Of course,” Hermione said as they stepped inside, pulling the portrait closed after them to muffle the Fat Lady’s wailing.

Ginny was sitting on the sofa before the fire, but she didn’t turn, or acknowledge them in any way. Harry tugged on Hermione’s sleeve.

“We should go…we should leave her alone,” he whispered, but Hermione was inching towards her already, studying her cautiously. Harry followed with dread. Ginny would blame him, surely…she would lash out at him, at both of them…they were the last people on earth that she wanted to see…

“Ginny,” Hermione began gingerly, “Are you all right?”

Harry was standing beside her now. Hermione sat down on the sofa.

“Ginny,” she said again. “Have you been to the hospital wing? Your parents are there….your whole family…”

Ginny didn’t move. As far as Harry could tell, she might as well have been made of stone. Hermione looked very worried. “Maybe you should try,” she said to him.

“I don’t know what to say,” he muttered, but when Hermione put on her most Hermione-ish face, he said, “Ginny,” very softly. “Have you been to see Ron?”

There was a long moment of silence, during which Harry looked at Hermione helplessly, not knowing what else to do, but then Ginny said in a very dead voice,

“Why would he want to see me?”

“Of course he’d want to see you,” Hermione said. “He’d want to know that you’re there…you’re his sister!”

“The last thing I did was yell at him,” Ginny said, and two silent tears fell down her cheeks. Hermione lifted her hand and then hesitated, but finally placed it on top of Ginny’s where they rested in her lap. To Harry’s surprise, Ginny grasped it tightly.

“That doesn’t matter,” Harry said. “He knows….He knows that you…”

Ginny’s eyes welled up again and overflowed. “It does matter,” she said simply. “What if he dies?” And then her face crumpled and she turned her head into Hermione’s shoulder and sobbed in a very loud, very Weasley fashion.

“He won’t, Ginny, he won’t,” Hermione shushed her, and Harry could only hang his head.

Ginny sniffled, and tried to catch her breath. “My Mum and Dad are here?”

Hermione nodded.

“And Bill, and Fred and George?”

Hermione nodded again.

“What about Percy?”

Hermione looked at Harry, who said quickly, “Not yet, but he’ll come, I’m sure of it.”

“I should go, then too,” Ginny said, not sounding too sure. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “They said it was a werewolf…” she looked up at Harry. “Voldemort sent it, didn’t he? He sent it after you…”

“Yes,” Harry croaked. Ginny’s face was blazing as brightly as the fire behind them.

“You’ll kill him for this, won’t you,” she demanded, her eyes like stones. “You’ll kill him…” And then she got up, without waiting for an answer, and walked out through the portrait hole.

For a moment the Common Room was quiet, except for the hissing and crackling of the flames. Harry looked around. Every inch of the school held some memory of Ron; he stared over at the table where they did their homework every night and wondered if they’d ever be there again. He’d gladly do a hundred inches of parchment on potions if only…

“I will kill him,” Harry said suddenly. “I will kill him for this…for this and a million other things…I will…” He looked down at Hermione. She had her face in her hands and was shaking. When he touched her shoulder, she took hold of him and pulled him down beside her on the sofa.

“Hermione,” he whispered, pushing his fingers into her hair and trying to look into her eyes. “Please stop crying; it’ll be all right.”

“D-Don’t, Harry,” she said, shaking her head and taking his hands away.

“Don’t what? What’s the matter?”

“Stop trying to comfort me,” she sobbed. “You don’t have to….” Hermione looked at him, her eyes shining. “He’s your friend…He’s our friend…And he’s…”

Harry listened to her words, and the sound of her hitching breath. Ron, he thought miserably, as his eyes were drawn to the corner table, where they had first played wizard chess so many years ago. He could practically see them there…eleven years old, Ron pointing out to Harry that he couldn’t move his rook that way, and then ordering one of his pawns to smash it to bits. Harry’s heart felt suddenly ready to burst.

“Hermione,” he said, his voice starting to shake. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly, and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

She could’ve been bitten too, Harry thought, gathering her further into his lap. I could’ve lost everything…

Slowly, he pulled back from her, and looked into her eyes. He remembered the roaring order from Greyback (BITE HER) and saw her struggle in the werewolf’s grasp. But in his mind, she didn’t get away…in his mind, he saw the wolf reach her neck…he heard her screams…

“Hermione,” he said in a tortured voice. “I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

She started to tell him that she knew, but then he kissed her, their first real kiss, their lips pulling the breath out of each other. Harry held her closely; he could hear a heart pounding, and wasn’t sure if it was his, or hers, but for a long minute there was nothing else in the world besides that heartbeat, and the feel of her, and the scent of her hair. They didn’t even hear the portrait hole swing open, despite the Fat Lady’s continued laments. Luna had to actually say their names before they parted, and looked at her, rather embarrassed.

“They sent me to find you,” she said somberly.

Harry studied her carefully, the way she refused to meet their eyes, and the silvery tear streaks that marked her face. And he went ice cold all over.

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

A/N: Yeah, that’s not where I was going to end the chapter, and I’m sure that you cliffy haters are going to have some words about that, but this chapter exhausted me. Seriously. Tough one. So try not to be too hard on me this week, eh? (hehe, like you ever are! You guys rule.) Next week we’ll find out what happens to Ron, ( I know, some of you don’t care…) and Harry and Hermione will get desperate. More angst filled mushy stuff.

Anyway, I promised a rant! And don’t think that I won’t deliver! So here’s this week’s installment of ‘Digging Deep: the Periodical for the Idealist and Delusional’:

Has anyone else noticed the section on Tonks, (pg. 467-68 U.S. edition), where Harry, Ron and Hermione are conjecturing about her odd behavior? It’s really the only foreshadowing we get of her relationship with Lupin, and it’s done in a very strange way, a very…sub-textual way…which I kind of like. Okay, let’s dig in…Harry notices that she’s acting irrationally and out of character. Sound like anyone we know? He also notices that all signs point to her being in love with Sirius. He’s wrong, of course. Hermione starts to uncover the hidden motivations behind her strange behavior, you know, the less than anvil-obvious motivations, but is interrupted by Ron, who once again says something insensitive about women.

Now I’ve been wondering about that Lupin/Tonks thing for awhile. What the heck is the point of it? Sure, it’s cute, and nice…and so far, completely unnecessary! Except to point out that whoops, everybody thought she was in love with Sirius, only to find out that all along she’s been pining for Lupin.

And could Hermione ignore Ron any more in these books? Geez, how many times do we see the phrase “Hermione said, ignoring Ron,”? Unk. I just can’t take it. And she really doesn’t think that much of him…she’s always way too surprised when he actually comes up with an idea that isn’t completely retarded…how can people who like Ron think that Hermione is a good girl for him? A good influence, yes. A good girl, no. The ideal girl….certainly not.

And one minor note, the hospital scene (U.S. pg. 613), Ron, Hermione, Luna, Tonks and Lupin are gathered around a bed. Hermione runs to Harry. That leaves Ron and Luna, and Tonks and Lupin. Curious….very curious….

Well, actually, that’s digging really deep. But the thing is, we Harry/Hermione shippers are intuitive readers…we feel things, we see behind things….we don’t need to be whacked upside the head with neon signs and heavy objects…in fact, we probably don’t even like it!

But enough ranting, I’ll probably get in trouble for this….but I warned you in the beginning, and this story is an homage to theorists…so I should be able to throw my delusional two cents in!

13. Chapter Thirteen: The Chosen One

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Thirteen: The Chosen One

Disclaimer: Thirteen chapters. I can scarce believe it. Anyway, the world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, blah blah blah, except that it’s really sucked as of late, yada yada yada.

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

“Mum, why isn’t he waking up?” Ginny asked tremulously, and Mrs. Weasley put an arm around her.

“He’s not responding well to the treatment,” Madam Pomfrey answered for her. “The wound…it refuses to heal properly…”

Harry and Hermione were standing at the foot of the bed with Luna, looking on in silence. Harry watched Ron’s chest rise and fall with each breath, as if to will that movement to continue. He tried not to let his eyes drift up towards his neck, where blood still seeped at the bandage, and where angry red lines were starting to streak out beneath the skin.

“Well,” said one of the Healers from St. Mungo’s, “We might have better luck with treatment if we knew what the bite was really from.” He looked accusingly at Harry.

“It was a werewolf,” Harry said simply. “We already told you.”

“You know that’s impossible; it’s not even the full moon!”

“Nevertheless,” interjected Lupin, “It was a werewolf.” He looked down at Ron sadly. “And worse than a werewolf.”

As they watched, Ron moaned softly and grimaced as though in pain.

“Ron?” Mrs. Weasley said hopefully. “Ron?”

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. “I don’t think he can hear you…”

And then from behind them came a louder moan, and some mumbling, and everyone turned.

“Hagrid?” said Hermione, stepping tentatively over to where he lay, half on the ground after the hospital bed had collapsed from his weight.

Harry and Professor McGonagall walked with her, as did Madam Pomfrey. The half-giant appeared to be trying to open his eyes.

“Ermione?” he asked, softly.

“I’m here, Hagrid,” she answered, leaning over him. The Healers had fared much better with Hagrid; most of his cuts were little more than scabs, and his bruises were faded to a pale yellow.

“Buckbeak,” he breathed heavily. “Where-”

“It’s all right,” Hermione said softly.

“They were attackin’ im….”

“Buckbeak is fine. Don’t worry. We sent for a MagiVet as soon as we got you to the hospital wing. He’s down in your hut as we speak.”

Hagrid’s eyes opened slightly, and he peered at Hermione, and then over at Harry.

“The last I heard, he was quite cozy on your bed, eating a steady diet of dead ferrets soaked in blood-replenishing potion,” Harry said bracingly, trying to smile. “Just rest Hagrid.”

The half-giant’s eyes fluttered closed again.

“He wasn’t bitten,” Madam Pomfrey said with relief. “He was just very bruised, and had more claw marks than I’ve ever seen…He should be fully recovered after a day or two.”

Professor McGonagall looked down at him with stern fondness. “Inquiring after a hippogriff when he’s been nearly killed! Sometimes I think he wouldn’t bother waking up at all if he didn’t have some beast to care for.”

In response to this, Fang, who had been sitting near Hagrid’s head, pushed his wet nose into her arm. The MagiVet had found Fang when he went to treat Buckbeak. The enormous dog had been shivering and whimpering behind a large pumpkin.

“You don’t count as a beast,” McGonagall said to him. “You’re barely a kitten!” But she patted his head anyway.

Harry stood between the beds of his fallen friends. Hagrid was asleep again, and Ron was still unconscious; Mrs. Weasley was kneeling by his bed and crying as she stroked his hand. One of the Healers was examining the wound as he changed the dressing. As he was about to re-wrap the wound, he drew back with a gasp.

“What? What is it?” Mr. Weasley demanded, and Harry and Hermione rushed back to the foot of Ron’s bed.

Harry’s face crumpled at the sight of the uncovered wound. It had barely healed at all. It was ragged and red, and still seeping blood.

“What is it?” Mr. Weasley said again, more loudly this time.

“Look…look at his teeth….” The Healer pointed at Ron’s face, and as they watched, the boy grimaced in his sleep, revealing a mouth that appeared to have far too many long, sharp incisors.

Hermione gasped and her hands flew to her mouth. Harry placed an arm around her and pulled her closer.

“He’s turning,” Professor Lupin said with defeat, lowering his eyes.

“What do you mean he’s turning?” Bill asked. “It’s not the full moon yet, he’s got twelve days-”

“The werewolf he was bitten by was more than just a werewolf,” Lupin explained. “It was a werewolf that was fully transformed. It wasn’t just a curse, like it is for me. It wasn’t just a symptom of a disease. What Ron was bitten by…” he looked down at the boy sadly. “It was what werewolves were before they ever became just a human infection. It was the beast itself.”

“But you said it was Greyback-”

“Not the Greyback that you knew.”

“You mean,” Mrs. Weasley said in a fearful voice, “Ron could be a werewolf all the time?”

“I don’t know Molly,” Lupin said gravely.

Behind them, Harry heard a small sniffle. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Luna, still twisting her bottle cap necklace in her hands. Tonks had an arm around her.

Harry looked back at his friend. Ron, a werewolf forever? And not just any werewolf, but a red, disjointed abomination? He couldn’t imagine it. His eyes began to fill with tears.

Ron can’t be a werewolf, he thought madly. How would he go to class? How would he do any of the things that they’d used to do? Suddenly he pictured himself playing wizard chess in the corner of the Common Room, but on the other side of the table wasn’t Ron, but a great werewolf with Ron’s voice, telling him to watch his Queen. This was followed by the image of a werewolf in Quidditch robes, trying to navigate a broom.

Harry blinked. Everyone was staring at him, and it took him a moment to realize that he had laughed. His mouth dropped open in horror. “I- I’m sorry,” he said quickly, and wiped the tears from his face. “I don’t know- I-”

But he couldn’t explain it. He hadn’t meant to laugh. It had just happened. Nothing was funny. Nothing felt funny, he just-

“Excuse me,” he mumbled, and then fled from the hospital wing.

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

“Harry! Harry stop!”

He heard Hermione calling to him, but he didn’t stop until he was out of the castle. Until he had reached the cover of the trees by the lake. And even then he couldn’t stop moving. There was so much welling up inside of him; he paced like he was caged, he wanted to dive into the lake and wrestle the giant squid. Anything. He just wanted to fight.

“Harry-”

“He did this on purpose!” Harry shouted, and then lowered his voice as Hermione winced. “He knew what would happen! He sent them for Ron…and for you…he’s trying to lure me out….he’s trying to make me-”

“He’s trying to make you mess up,” Hermione said desperately.

Harry wouldn’t look at her. He couldn’t stop thinking of Voldemort. He had to find him, and kill him…His scar was burning with fury, and he knew that Voldemort might be able to feel it, and he was glad.

“If he wants a fight, I’ll take it to him,” Harry growled. “Does he think I’m afraid?”

“But you don’t know what he’s planning! If he did do this on purpose- it’s some kind of trap, he’s trying to-”

“It doesn’t matter Hermione! I can’t just sit here and do nothing! Ron’s going to be a….thing for the rest of his life! He might never be the same.” Harry clenched his jaw. He wanted something to hex, or to hit. He really, really wished that Malfoy was around. Or Snape. Definitely Snape.

“Harry, don’t do anything foolish, please.”

He stopped pacing and looked at her. She was crying again, and exhausted, her hair hanging down over her face. She was hugging herself tightly, as though she’d just been kicked in the ribs.

How many times had she cried, since she’d met him? How many things had she lost, or given up…how many moments of terror had she endured, and now she was crying because she was afraid he’d do something stupid. Harry felt the fury drain out of him like there was a sieve in the bottom of his feet. He went to her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Don’t worry, Hermione. I’m not going to rush into anything,” he said, hugging her and kissing her forehead gently. “But I just-”

“I know,” she said sadly. “This stupid war…so many killed….Cedric, and Sirius, and Dumbledore….Ron….”

“Ron will be fine,” he said, resting his cheek against the top of her head. But he wasn’t so sure, not really. And he knew that he couldn’t convince her, because as was often the case, they were thinking the same thing.

Thinking about the war. And the fact that they were losing.

He was losing.

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

At dinnertime, Ron was still unconscious. Harry walked into the Great Hall with heavy steps. He really didn’t have much of an appetite, but the Common Room was feeling increasingly small as he and Hermione paced away the hours inside its walls, waiting for any news of Ron’s condition. So when Hermione suggested that they get some air, and maybe try to eat something, it had seemed a good idea. But as soon as Harry walked through the enormous double doors, he wanted to turn right back around.

After all the years of whispering, all the years of staring, he’d thought that he was used to it. But the sudden silence that followed his entrance made him wish for the millionth time in his life that he was anybody else but Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One.

It seemed to take an eternity to reach a table, with the weight of all those eyes upon him. He sat down heavily and started pulling rolls off of the floating tray, trying to make as much noise as possible, and growing more and more irritated by the fact that nobody was eating anymore. They were all still staring at him.

“There are fewer eyes here than usual,” Hermione observed, ladling stew into a bowl.

Harry glanced around tensely. The tables did appear to be more scattered than they were a few days before. “I suppose more students have been pulled out, because of…” He looked down, and idly toyed with his roll.

“There’s steak and kidney pie tonight,” Hermione said, trying to tempt him, but when he said nothing, she took his plate and placed a pie onto it herself.

For several quiet moments they sat there, Harry taking small bites of bread, and Hermione scooping up spoonfuls of stew and blowing on them before sighing and dropping them back into her bowl. Suddenly she slammed her fist down onto the table, and all around them Harry heard the sharp intake of a roomful of breath.

“This is ridiculous!” Hermione hissed. “Can’t we even eat in peace?”

“Of course not, this is Hogwarts,” Harry observed, chewing on his roll.

“Well someone should do something about it!”

“Why not you then? You could get up and do your Head Girl rounds…”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m not Head Girl, Harry.”

“But everyone knows that you would have been, if we’d have had one.”

“We don’t know that,” Hermione blushed, and then looked at him brightly. “But there’s still a Prefect badge on these robes…” She took a large bite of her stew, and then stood up and walked down the aisle. Harry could hear her saying things like, “Eyes front please,” and “Do keep eating; it’s never good to miss a meal-”, and after a few minutes, the Great Hall was full of chatter again, and ‘The Chosen One’ had been forgotten. It was as though the students just needed something like that to happen, some kind of normal discipline. Some kind of normal anything.

Harry beamed at Hermione, and she gave a very amused smile back. He looked down at his pie and picked up his knife and fork. Maybe he was hungry, after all.

Just as he was about to take his first bite, he heard a voice behind him.

“We need to see you in the Headmistress’ office at once, Harry.”

Harry looked up into the purposeful face of Professor Lupin. The Great Hall had gone dead quiet again. Lupin gave an annoyed sigh, and then said loudly, “This is not about Ronald Weasley; PLEASE RETURN TO WHAT YOU WERE DOING.”

All around them, students dove back onto their plates, shoveling food into their mouths and talking.

Well, that’s another way to handle it, Harry thought and smirked at Hermione as she walked over to them.

“It’s really not about Ron?” she asked worriedly.

Lupin shook his head. “No. Ron is still…..” He looked down uncomfortably. “Nothing’s changed. He’s still fighting it.”

“He’ll win,” Harry said defiantly, and Lupin nodded.

“I have no doubt,” he said. “I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, but the order is already assembled…”

“It’s all right; I wasn’t really that hungry anyway,” Harry said, but as he stood up, he was looking at his steak and kidney pie rather regretfully.

“I’ll bring it up to the Common Room for you to eat later,” said Hermione, and Harry kissed her on the cheek and whispered “Thanks,” before he and Lupin walked out together.

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

They walked in silence towards the stairs to the Headmistress’ office. Harry kept glancing at Professor Lupin, but since they left the Great Hall, it seemed that he was determined not to meet Harry’s eyes.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” asked Harry, which seemed an almost stupid question, with so much wrong already, but Lupin only glanced at him and then away very quickly.

“Let’s discuss it with the others,” he said quietly, and said the password, “Toffee Brittle,” which made Harry’s stomach gurgle audibly. He cleared his throat, embarrassed, and wished that he’d at least brought a biscuit along to the meeting.

Inside the office, the order was seated in a wide circle of chairs in the center of the room. Harry and Professor Lupin took the only two empty seats. Nearly everyone was there, Tonks, and Moody, and a few others whom Harry had never formally met. He noticed that the Weasleys were not present, as they were probably still at Ron’s bedside.

Harry sat down and waited. He assumed that Professor McGonagall would be the first to speak, but she seemed reluctant to begin. He began to tap his toe nervously.

If I wanted to be stared at, I could’ve stayed in the Great Hall, he thought with a bit of annoyance.

It was quite strange, actually, the way that the order was behaving. They were never this quiet; Moody always had something to say, or at least something to grumble, and they very rarely stared at him, like they were doing now. The only one of them who wasn’t staring was Professor Lupin, who was looking at his shoes.

“Did I….grow an extra nose or something?” asked Harry uncomfortably, squirming under their gaze.

Everyone immediately looked away; some cleared their throats, others toyed with their robes. Professor McGonagall gave him an apologetic smile.

“We’re here to discuss the events that transpired in the Forbidden Forest, Harry,” she said gently, and Harry wondered why she was calling him ‘Harry’. He looked at her squarely.

“You think it’s my fault too, don’t you,” he said.

“Of course not,” said Professor Lupin quickly. “We all know that you had to go after Hagrid-”

“And you were right clever too, sending your stag to us,” Tonks added, and Harry blushed, glad that no one had seen the embarrassing display of red sparks that preceded the patronus.

“No one thinks that it’s your fault, Harry,” McGonagall said, still using that gentle tone and his first name. “What we’re here to discuss today are-”

“Horcruxes!” exploded Moody, who was unable to restrain himself any longer. When the others looked at him with a mixture of surprise and chagrin, he twisted away in his chair and mumbled something under his breath that Harry couldn’t quite catch.

“The fact that Voldemort has chosen to split his soul more than seven times makes our task much more difficult-”

“But we have Hermione’s talisman,” Harry interjected. “We can find them all; it’ll just take more time.”

“Yes, I suppose we could,” Professor McGonagall said thoughtfully. “But in the meantime, Voldemort could be creating more and more new horcruxes.”

“Lost his bloody mind, he has!” Moody growled. “He could be making them left and right, for all we know! As quickly as he’s killing people, there could be hundreds!”

“Hundreds?” Harry said incredulously. “Isn’t that impossible?”

“We don’t know, Harry,” said Professor Lupin. “He must be wearing himself quite thin, and each new horcrux would be weaker than the last…but it is possible.”

“Well then we need to go faster,” said Harry. “We need to duplicate Hermione’s talisman….we need teams….a dozen or more!”

This seemed to Harry the best solution, but all around him, the members of the order were still wearing the same uncomfortable expressions that they had been when the meeting began.

“There’s something else,” Professor McGonagall said, looking down at the ground. When she met Harry’s eyes, she was peering at him very intently through her spectacles. “You’re The Chosen One, who can destroy horcruxes.”

“It seems that way,” Harry said apprehensively.

“Have you ever wondered why that is?”

Harry just looked at her dumbly. That was probably the most frequently asked question inside his head.

“Harry, when you destroyed the werewolves, do you remember what happened?”

“Of course,” he said, turning to Professor Lupin. “I used that spell we worked on. The one to call the lightning…and I felt that burning inside of me again, inside of my chest, and from my scar.” As he said that last part, the professors exchanged nervous glances.

“That’s just it, Harry,” Professor Lupin said sadly. “The lightning….it didn’t come from your wand. It came from your scar.”

“What?”

“We all saw it,” Moody said excitedly. “Couldn’t believe my eye, thought it was malfunctioning, but it was true, bolts of lightning came from that scar,” he pointed at Harry’s forehead. “Fried every one of those deformed red dogs….and then you collapsed.”

“What does that mean,” Harry asked, even though he was sure he already knew.

“We think,” Lupin said hesitantly, “That the easiest way to destroy a horcrux is with another horcrux.”

“And since I can destroy them,” said Harry quietly, “You think that I am one.”

“Not you, Harry,” Professor McGonagall said, with hope in her voice. “But your scar.”

Harry sat silently for several long moments. That was it then. It was not him, but his scar.

“It’s only your scar,” she said again, and Harry glared up at her.

“What’s the difference? My scar is part of me. It’s not as if I can just tear it off of my forehead and let one of you destroy it-”

“Nor would you want to,” Moody said, appalled. “That scar’s our best weapon.”

“I’m not a weapon!” Harry shouted. How could this have happened, he wondered. “Why would he do this,” Harry asked. “Why would he make a horcrux out of me? He wanted to kill me!”

“Maybe he wanted to turn you into a horcruxed Inferius,” Moody suggested, and everyone, including Harry, winced at the thought.

“He was just an infant,” McGonagall said. “Really Alastor!” And for the second time during the meeting, Moody twisted away in his chair and grumbled something under his breath.

“What’s more likely, Harry,” Professor Lupin said softly, “Is that you were a mistake. Voldemort must have accidentally put some of himself into you…”

Harry stopped listening. He was remembering something from very long ago…something that Dumbledore had said. “He transferred some of his own powers to you, the night that he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I’m sure…”

Harry looked down, heartbroken. “Did you know?” he said in a low voice.

“Did I know what, Harry?” Professor Lupin asked, confused.

“Did you know?!” Harry shouted, whirling away from the group, and staring at Dumbledore’s portrait. The old wizard was sitting comfortably in his chair, watching the meeting with interest.

“An interesting theory, this,” he said with a tone of quirky amusement.

“Did you know the whole time? All these years, did you know that in the end I’d have to die to beat him? All those things that you were teaching me, what was the point of it?!”

But the portrait didn’t have an answer. And of course it wouldn’t, Harry thought angrily. It’s only a portrait. Only a trick. Dumbledore is gone.

“I’m sure that he didn’t know, Harry, not for sure,” Professor Lupin said. “Even now, we don’t know for sure-”

“I have to get out of here,” Harry interrupted, and walked from the room, knocking over his chair as he left.

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

When Harry ran out of the meeting, he had no idea where he was going. He just started to wander, not really letting himself think, just walking. But before long, he found himself standing before the portrait of the Fat Lady, outside the Gryffindor Common Room. He spoke the password in a flat voice and ignored her inquiries after Ron; at the moment he had no patience for portraits of any kind.

The warmth of the room hit him in a dizzying waft, and he suddenly wanted to curl up, right there on the rug, and sleep for days. His mind was spinning so quickly that he couldn’t manage a single clear thought.

“Harry? What was the meeting about? Are you still hungry?”

Hermione was sitting on the sofa, an open book in her lap. Harry stared at her. She looked so warm…and soft…He walked over to her, and stood until she pulled him down.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, her eyes wide and studying his face. “Harry, what was that meeting about? What did they say?”

“Hermione,” he began, but didn’t know how to continue. How could he tell her? How could he tell her that he had to leave her? He couldn’t, not with her looking at him like that…

“Harry! Hermione!”

Hermione turned her head towards the portrait hole. Neville was standing there, panting and fluttering his hands.

“It’s Ron! He’s- He’s awake!”

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

A/N: Oh how annoyed I am with myself….I failed to notice one of JKR’s style points…she always uses ‘said Harry’ or ‘said Hermione’, and all this time I’ve been using ‘Harry said’, or ‘Hermione said’. Maybe it’s a minor issue, but it does affect the overall canon-er…ness, yes, canon-ness, of the story. Dang it.

Okay, so I didn’t get any good snogglies in there for you this week. But I can feel them on deck….just waiting….and next week, we get to see what’s up with Ron, and more of what’s up with Harry. Is that vague enough for you?

And my apologies for missing the Saturday deadline. I suck, I know.

14. Chapter 14: A Very Hairy Situation

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Fourteen: A Very Hairy Situation

Disclaimer: I’m tired of these. If JK Rowling doesn’t realize by now that I don’t own this stuff, then she needs to go back and reread, I think.

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

Harry and Hermione elbowed their way through the small crowd that was gathered around Ron’s bed. Harry’s stomach was in knots. What would they see when they reached the front? Ron? Or a horrible, twisted red dog? He steeled himself, and tried to put on his least disgusted expression. He couldn’t let Ron see how frightening he was, if he was….a….a….

“Ron!”

Harry’s eyes flew open as Hermione shouted, just in time to see her throw her arms around Ron’s very human face.

“Not this again! I just managed to pry Mum and Ginny off of me!” Ron groaned, but Harry thought that he looked really quite pleased. And he looked loads better too. The bandage on his neck was fresh and white, and his skin was back to a normal shade. It was even a bit rosy.

“Hi Ron.”

“Hi Harry.”

The two boys looked at each other. Harry began to wonder if he should even be there…if Ron even wanted him there…after all, it was because of him that he’d almost had his throat ripped out.

“Erm, how are you feeling?”

“Better,” Ron shrugged, “Glad to see that you two got out fine.”

Hermione had released Ron’s neck and returned to Harry. He could feel her beside him, her body practically singing with happiness, and realized with only mild surprise that they had unconsciously put their arms around each other.

“Well that’s how it is, isn’t it?” Ginny teased, standing between her mother and Luna. “They come out fine, and you somehow manage to land in a hospital bed…”

Ron scowled, but not very seriously, but the scowl deepened when Fred and George burst out laughing, calling him their ‘accident prone baby brother’.

“Just can’t stay out of trouble, can you,” George grinned.

“I think you’re all forgetting,” Ron said matter-of-factly, “about the time that little Ginevra there almost got herself killed in the Chamber of Secrets.” Ginny fell silent and looked innocently up at the ceiling. “And about the time that Hermione there got herself petrified by a basilisk for half a semester…” Hermione smirked and looked down at her shoes. “And how about the time that good old Harry let Professor Dodo rubberize his arm?”

“His name was Professor Lockhart,” Hermione said, and then blushed scarlet when Harry looked at her.

“All right, Ron,” Mr. Weasley smiled. “I think you’ve made your point.”

“Yeah,” said Fred. “You’re all accident-prone.”

“How’s Hagrid?” Ron asked, ignoring him.

“He’s fine,” Professor McGonagall answered. “He woke up a few hours ago, and ran straight down to see that hippogriff.”

Harry looked behind them at Hagrid’s hospital bed, which was collapsed and nearly flattened. He had been so concerned with Ron when they had come in that he hadn’t even noticed it was empty.

“All right, all right,” Madam Pomfrey broke in, “He’s had enough excitement for now. He’s got another dose of potion to take, and then he needs to rest.”

“Potion?” Harry asked. “What potion?” But no one answered, because they were all too busy saying goodbye to Ron.

“We’ll stop by tomorrow, all right?” said Hermione, and Ron nodded.

“Bring by some chocolate frogs, would you?” he asked. “I’m so hungry I could eat a hippogriff.”

“Not my hippogriff,” Hermione sang out over her shoulder.

Harry looked back one more time at his friend, as Madam Pomfrey poured potion from a glass beaker. Luna was sitting at his bedside, and didn’t appear to be going anywhere. She caught his eye, and smiled broadly.

Good, Harry thought. Very, very good.

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

Ginny said goodbye to her family in the hall and then walked with them back to the Gryffindor Common Room. As they went, she and Hermione talked about Ron in excited, happy voices, and Harry tried to join them, the smile feeling almost plastered onto his face even as his mind began to wander back to the unpleasant task that lay before him.

They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and spoke to her for a few moments; she practically swooned with relief when she heard that Ron was all right.

“I’m going straight over to the portrait of the Noble Woman,” she declared. “She said that he was going to die…but I knew…I knew that my little Gryffindor would pull through….” she swung herself open slightly. “Please pull me shut after you’re inside, won’t you?” And then she ran off, presumably to gloat to the Noble Woman.

Once they were inside the Common Room, Ginny stretched like a cat and told them good night, leaving Harry and Hermione alone. For once, Harry wished that she had stayed. Hermione was practically giddy with relief. Her eyes were shining and she could barely sit still. How could he tell her now, that he was a horcrux? That he’d have to die…

“Ron’s going to be fine,” she was saying, pacing back and forth. “I’m so relieved; I was so worried…” she looked at Harry questioningly. “Do you think he’ll have to take that potion for the rest of his life?”

“I don’t know,” said Harry honestly. “What was that potion anyway?”

“I think it’s just a slightly modified version of the Wolfsbane Potion that Professor Lupin takes. But I’m not sure,” she shook her head quickly to signify that it didn’t matter. “Oh Harry, Ron’s going to be all right!” She threw her arms around his neck.

Harry squeezed her tightly and breathed in the cinnamon scent of her hair. She was so warm…so safe…he felt like he could live the rest of his life in that moment and be perfectly happy.

“Harry? Are you all right?” Hermione asked, still embracing him.

“I’m fine,” Harry said, clearing his throat. He hadn’t realized how closely he was holding her, that his hands roaming over her back might’ve felt a bit desperate for the situation. “I’m just glad about Ron, that’s all.”

Hermione pulled back to look at him. “Are you sure?” she asked doubtfully.

“I am,” Harry beamed, feeling terrified that she’d see right through him. “It’s been a long day…”

“I know; I’m exhausted too,” she smiled. “We should get some rest. Good night Harry.” She kissed him lightly and turned away towards the stairs to the girls’ dormitory, but Harry caught her by the arm and pulled her back, pressing his lips to hers and pushing his fingers into her hair before he knew what he was doing. When they parted, they were both breathless.

You idiot, he thought to himself. She’ll see through you now for sure…He glanced at her cautiously, fearing he’d see her inquisitive Get-to-the-Bottom-of-This face, but she was only watching him though lowered eyelashes, her cheeks slightly flushed and nibbling on her lip.

Harry looked away. Any more kisses like that and he’d lose all control…he’d be confessing everything, and he couldn’t. Not tonight, when she was so happy.

“Good night Hermione,” he said quietly.

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

Harry and Hermione walked into the hospital wing just before lunch the next day, their arms laden with chocolate frogs. After breakfast, they had made a quick trip to Honeydukes, where Harry had purchased enough sweets to keep Ron satisfied for a week.

“Chocolate frogs, excellent,” Ron said when they reached him. Within moments he had several packages open, and there were small brown frogs hopping everywhere. Harry caught one but couldn’t quite bring himself to take a bite until the spell had run out and the frog was still.

“How are you this morning, Ron?” Harry asked.

“Loads better,” Ron smiled between bites of frog. “Though that Wolfsbane Potion is nasty…I don’t know how Lupin stands it…thanks for the frogs, by the way.”

“No problem,” said Harry. “So, do you have to take that potion forever?”

“And are you still going to transform during the full moon?” asked Hermione.

Ron nodded. “I have to take the potion to keep the werewolf down…Madam Pomfrey says that during the full moon it’ll probably come out anyway…But don’t feel bad, Harry, because Professor Lupin thinks that I might’ve gotten a pretty fair deal, as far as werewolf curses are concerned.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, but Hermione clapped her hands before Ron could answer.

“Oh! I know!” she said excitedly. “Professor Lupin was bitten by a normal werewolf, so without the potion, he loses his mind when he transforms…but you were bitten by a…a…true werewolf, so when you transform, even without the potion, you’d probably be just a-”

“Big red talking dog,” Ron grinned.

Somewhere behind them, Harry heard the distinctly musical sound of Luna’s laughter.

“I think I’ll go offer her a sugar quill,” Hermione said, grasping a bag of sweets and walking away.

Harry looked back at Ron. The boy was wearing a very sly look on his face.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

Ron mumbled something and shook his head, making Harry grin.

“Come on, out with it,” he urged. “You’re wearing the same expression as Crookshanks does after he eats one of Hermione’s canaries.”

Ron blushed, and then glanced furtively over towards where Hermione and Luna were talking.

“It’s Luna,” he said quietly. “She kissed me!”

“She what?!” Harry exclaimed, trying to sound appropriately surprised.

“Yeah, as soon as we were alone…I guess….well, I guess she’s liked me for ages…”

“I can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out,” grinned Harry.

“Oh really?” Ron squinted at him. “This from someone who took six years to figure out that his best friend was gone on him.”

“Hermione was subtle,” Harry said with sheepish defensiveness. “She didn’t go around wearing a roaring lion hat and constantly humming a song with my name in it.”

“Hey, I just thought she was weird!” Ron exclaimed. “And I guess that she is…I thought that the whole werewolf bit might put her off, but I think she likes it…she keeps on calling me ‘her own magical creature’.”

Harry smiled and opened his mouth to say something else, but Ron quickly shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like “ere umming”, so they both put on their most innocent expressions as Hermione and Luna came over, each nibbling on a sugar quill.

“What were you two talking about?” asked Hermione, and the tone in her voice told Harry that she knew exactly what they had been talking about, and that she and Luna had been talking about the same thing.

“Nothing,” said Harry.

“Nothing,” said Ron. “What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing,” said Hermione and Luna in unison.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

“Well,” Ron said, tearing the head off of another chocolate frog, “What’ve you two been up to while I’ve been in here sleeping?”

“Not much,” Hermione said. “We were all so worried about you, we spent most of our time pacing in the Common Room, or sitting here. We wanted you to wake up so badly….I even read to you a bit from ‘Hogwarts: A History’.”

“What were you trying to do?” Ron asked in a pained voice. “Bore me awake?” But Harry could tell from the blush in Ron’s cheeks that he was pleased by what she said.

The conversation was momentarily interrupted as Madam Pomfrey elbowed her way through them to change the dressing on Ron’s wound. She was very quick about it, and they all tried to look away as the bandage came off, but Harry couldn’t help but notice that where the bite was healing, there was a strange growth of red fur. After Madam Pomfrey had gone, Ron cleared his throat.

“It’s just a scar, she says. The fur, I mean.”

“Of course,” Harry said uncomfortably. “It’s…it’s just like Buckbeak’s scar. On his hindquarter.”

“Great,” Ron moaned. “I’ve got the same scar on my neck that a hippogriff does on his bum.”

“You match,” said Hermione with a small smile. “Does that mean we get to call you ‘Witherwings’?”

“ ‘Witherwings’,” Luna giggled. “I like it.”

Ron narrowed his eyes at Hermione accusingly.

“So,” said Harry, trying to change the subject, “When can you get out of here?”

Ron shrugged. “You know Madam Pomfrey: ‘rest, rest, rest’.” He paused and looked down at the half eaten frog in his hand. “Hey Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“What happened in that forest? How did we get out of there? The last thing I remember….” He swallowed hard and put his hand to his throat. Luna sat down on the edge of his bed and murmured something that Harry couldn’t quite hear as she reached out to stroke his hair.

“What did happen, Harry?” asked Hermione with sudden realization. “You never told me, and I couldn’t see anything…I was trying to shield Ron…What destroyed the werewolves?”

Harry looked at her, and then at Ron. They were looking at him so expectantly, Hermione’s expression curious, Ron’s like a child awaiting a grand story. But at least he wouldn’t have to say this twice. That was one good thing, at least.

“I did,” he said heavily.

“That’s fantastic!” Ron exclaimed. “How did you manage it? There were so many…”

“I used a lightning spell that Professor Lupin and I worked on,” Harry continued, watching Hermione’s face carefully. There was something dawning in her eyes…

“A lightning spell took out all of those wolves?” Ron said, impressed.

“It wasn’t only the spell,” said Harry, and now he could see Hermione’s brow beginning to knit, and her eyes beginning to shine. “It was the fact that it came from my scar.”

“Your scar?” asked Ron, confused. “Since when can you do magic through your scar?”

“I can do it,” said Harry, looking straight into Hermione’s eyes, “because my scar is a horcrux.”

For several long seconds there was no noise in the room. It was so quiet that Harry could almost hear the tears fall from Hermione’s cheeks and land softly on her sweater. Ron was shaking his head slowly, as if he had misunderstood. Luna looked extremely pale.

“That’s why I can destroy them so easily,” Harry said tonelessly. “Because I am one.”

“No,” Hermione whispered, and closed her eyes tightly as if that might effectively deny his words.

“There’s been a mistake,” Ron said. “That’s not why….that can’t be why…”

“It is,” said Harry. “I wish it was a mistake, believe me…but…I’ve always been connected to Voldemort through the scar. Whenever I destroy a horcrux, whenever I get that strange, burning power…my scar burns right along with it.” He looked at Hermione, who was standing with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. He didn’t know what to say to her.

“What’re you going to do?” Ron asked.

“Whatever I have to do,” Harry said gravely. “In order to destroy him. I’m going to make sure he stays gone this time.”

“But…” Ron stammered, “But that means…”

Hermione began to shake her head fiercely. When Harry reached out to her, she stepped back.

“Hermione, I’m sorry-”

“No, Harry,” she said, retreating farther into the room, looking around at the walls like they were trapping her.

Harry stepped towards her slowly. “It’ll be all right,” he said, but she only glared at him.

“All right?!” she exclaimed furiously, and then pushed past him and ran out of the hospital wing.

“Hermione!” Harry shouted after her, and then put his face into his hands. He hadn’t really known how she’d react. He supposed that he couldn’t have expected any better. “I’m sorry, Ron,” he said helplessly. “You know, for everything.”

“Don’t apologize to me, Harry,” Ron said seriously. “Just go after her. We can figure this out later, all right?”

Harry looked at his friend gratefully and nodded, and then turned to go and find Hermione. He was fairly sure that he knew where she’d gone.

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

There was a cold breeze coming off of the lake as Harry walked through the trees, looking for any sign of Hermione. He thought of calling her name, but knew that she wouldn’t answer, so he just kept walking, listening to the sound of his own feet as he crunched through the fallen leaves. There would be snow on the ground soon, and he found himself wondering if he would be alive to see another Christmas.

It would be nice, he thought, imagining the smells of pumpkin pie and holly wreaths, the warm light from the candles in the Great Hall, when it was decorated for the feast. I could buy Hermione something….something a girlfriend would like…though I suppose she’d probably prefer the same bookish presents that I usually get for her…

“How can you say that it’ll be all right!?”

Harry spun around as Hermione exploded at him from behind a nearby tree. He put his hands up disarmingly. “I-”

“Tell me it’ll be all right again, and I’ll…I’ll feed you to the giant squid!”

As if it knew what she was saying, the squid did a lazy roll just below the surface of the lake, making light ripples with its tentacles. Hermione watched it, breathing heavily. Her face was dry, but Harry could tell by the redness in her eyes that she had been crying before he found her.

“You’re not really a horcrux, are you Harry?” she said softly.

“Well, not me exactly…just my scar.”

Hermione exhaled sharply, making a sound that was close to a laugh. “Same difference,” she said, and Harry smiled. That was just what he had said to McGonagall. “But it doesn’t seem right, does it?” she said with sad bewilderment. “It doesn’t seem like that’s the way it should be…”

“Why not?” Harry asked, feeling some hope spark up in his chest. If anyone could refute this silly, ‘Harry is a horcrux’ business, it was Hermione.

“Because,” she said, her shoulders slumping as she walked forward into his arms. “Just because.”

Harry’s heart couldn’t decide whether it wanted to sink or sing. She hadn’t been able to disprove the fact that he was a horcrux, but the feel of her against him was so wonderful, so comforting, that it almost didn’t matter. And then he felt her begin to kiss his neck softly, moving across his cheek until she reached his lips, and his heart made up its mind and rose into his throat.

“I know this is a very ‘Ginny’ thing to say,” Hermione whispered, her forehead resting against his, “But…you’re The Boy Who Lived….Not The Boy Who Lived For a Little While Just to Destroy Voldemort and Die…”

“And to fall in love,” Harry said gently, brushing her hair back from her face. Her shocked expression almost re-broke his heart.

“Harry, I-”

“Harry! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Harry and Hermione turned, Hermione with surprise, and Harry with annoyance, to see Professor Lupin walking towards them on the path.

“I’m…sorry to interrupt,” he said as he got closer and realized what he had walked into, “but it’s…well, it’s important.”

“What is it? What’s happened?”

Professor Lupin shuffled his feet and looked down at the fallen leaves. He had one hand on his hip and the other at his forehead. He appeared extremely agitated. “I looked all over for you, and now that I found you, I don’t want to speak,” he said, shaking his head.

Harry felt Hermione squeeze him tighter around the waist. “Just say it,” she said.

“Voldemort is going to attack the castle,” Lupin said simply.

“What? How do you know?”

“Well, actually, he was kind enough to tell us.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged suspicious glances. “What do you mean?”

“He sent an announcement, via Owl Post this morning,” Lupin said in an exasperated tone. “At first we thought it was some kind of joke, but…” He put his hands to his face and laughed, and then shook his head guiltily. “I’m sorry, this is no time for laughing, but I…I…”

“It’s all right Professor,” Harry said, remembering his laugh after Ron’s injury. “I understand.” He had never seen Professor Lupin so shaken. “Try to…try to calm down,” he said gently. “When is he coming?”

“Soon,” Lupin said gravely, crossing his hands over his chest in an attempt to stop shaking.

“But why?” Hermione asked. “Why now? And why would he warn us?”

“He knows what I’m up to,” Harry said solemnly. “He knows that I can destroy all of his horcruxes, if only he gives me enough time.”

“But why would he warn us? Why not just swoop in here and-”

“Because he’s not afraid,” Harry said, suddenly sure. “And because the grandness of the challenge appeals to him. It’s like he’s calling me out for a duel.”

“Yes,” Professor Lupin agreed. “Tom Riddle believes that his time is coming. He wants one last battle. Something glorious.”

“Can the order stand against him?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know. He’ll bring every last Deatheater…every Dementor…leagues of Inferius…possibly some Giants…”

Harry swallowed as he imagined it. It was a grim picture.

“But we can hide you, Harry,” Professor Lupin said quickly. “We can hide you for as long as we need. The order has no shortage of tricks up our sleeves-”

“No,” Harry said quietly.

“No? Harry what are you talking about?” Hermione demanded, pulling back to look him in the face. “Of course you have to hide…we need time…to figure things out-”

“While Voldemort kills more innocent people?” Harry shook his head. “All the preparation in the world isn’t worth that. I’m tired of waiting.” He looked at Professor Lupin. “And besides…I’m ready.”

“You’re not!” Hermione shouted at him. “You think you are, but you don’t know what’s going to happen…you-”

“Listen to me,” Harry said, taking her gently by the shoulders. “I wish we had more time. I wish we had a thousand years. But we don’t. And I have to do this now.”

Hermione was breathing very hard, and her eyes were filling with tears. She looked like she was choking on a million words, and Harry hated to see it, but he couldn’t take back what he said. Finally, her face crumpled and she wrenched herself free, and ran away back towards the castle.

Harry didn’t try to stop her.

When he felt Professor Lupin’s hand on his shoulder, he quickly wiped the tears from his face.

“We’re still going to have to train you,” Lupin said softly. “No matter how ready you think you are, you can always learn more.”

Harry nodded, still staring off in the direction Hermione had run.

“The students are leaving on the last Hogwarts Express tomorrow. Only the members of the order will remain-”

“No,” Harry said suddenly. “Hermione and Ron won’t leave. Neither will Neville, or Luna….or Ginny either, I don’t think.” He turned to face Professor Lupin. “You’ll let them stay, if they want to, won’t you?”

“Their parents might have different ideas,” Lupin said. “But I’ll do my best.”

Harry opened his mouth, and then hesitated.

“What is it, Harry?”

“Nothing,” he said, and shook his head. “Only…I wish that I could ask you to stay out of it as well…”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because you were one of my parents’ best friends…the only one still alive. And…I want someone to be alive…to remember them…” Harry sighed. “I just wish you’d sit this one out, that’s all.”

“But you can’t ask me to do that, Harry,” Lupin said sadly, squeezing Harry’s shoulder. “Because they were my friends…and more than that…they were family. Besides, I know that James and Lily would never forgive me if I didn’t help you.”

Harry smiled. “I suppose I’ll need all the help I can get.”

“We’ll give you everything we can.”

Harry nodded, and his smile faded as he glanced up towards the castle. There were several people there whom he would like to ask to stay out of it as well. Hermione. And Ron. But he wouldn’t ask them. Because he knew that they would never agree anyway, and because the battle wasn’t just his destiny anymore. It was all of their destinies, tied up together.

And Harry had never been so sure of anything, or so frightened of anything, in his entire life.

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

A/N: Okay so you know that the next chapter is the last chapter, right? Yeah, I’m serious this time. And I won’t even bother saying “next week’s chapter” because I’m just not sure. I totally missed last week, and my life is a shambles…I’m in the middle of moving. But I’ll try. Because you guys….rock. And oh yeah, I want to hear what you all did for Halloween…what were you, etc. And is everybody pumped for Goblet of Fire?

15. Chapter Fifteen: The Last Battle

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Fifteen: The Last Battle

Disclaimer: This is it people. We’re at the end. And it’s been such a long time coming, that I don’t care whether JK Rowling sues me or not.

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

Harry awoke just in time to hear the carriages pull away from the castle, loaded with the last of the students. He listened carefully, trying to hear their gossiping voices, their laughing voices, anything, but they were all silent.

“It’s a bit scary, isn’t it?”

Harry glanced over and saw Ron, already awake, and obviously listening too. Madam Pomfrey had finally allowed him out of the hospital wing the night before, and Harry had quickly and emotionlessly told him everything, before falling into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

“I mean, I saw some members of the order poke their heads in here about an hour ago,” the boy continued, “and then duck out. I guess they’re leaving the Gryffindor dorms for us, but I bet they’ve settled in everywhere else.”

“Did you sleep at all?” Harry asked.

Ron shook his head. “Not really. But that’s not your fault- ever since the-accident, I’ve been having trouble….it’s like I want to be up at night now, like I’ve gone all notumnal.”

“Nocturnal,” Harry corrected him.

“Don’t be Hermione,” Ron squinted, making him smile. “Hey, where is Hermione anyway? I thought for sure that she’d be in overdrive by now, harping at us to start training and throwing spell books at our heads.”

Harry frowned, remembering the scene by the lake, remembering her running away from him. “I don’t know where she is. She’s not…taking it very well.”

“Oh,” Ron said quietly, and then appeared to be thinking to himself. “But she can’t think that you’re going to die, can she? She can’t think that you aren’t going to win…Harry we’ve been through this before. It’s almost like a Hogwarts tradition! Voldemort attaches himself to Quirrell’s head, you beat him, we go to Honeydukes. Voldemort unleashes a basilisk, you beat him, we go to Honeydukes. Voldemort challenges you to a duel on his father’s gravestone, you beat him, we go to Honeydukes. Voldemort tries to snatch that thing from the Department of Mysteries, you beat him, we go to Honeydukes. Do you see a pattern here, Harry?”

“You mean besides your fixation on Honeydukes?”

Ron lifted himself up on one elbow and looked at Harry very seriously. “What I’m trying to say is, you’re going to win. I know it. I’m not scared.”

Harry looked at him skeptically.

“Well, all right, I am a bit scared. Because this time, I intend to be in it, and even though you’re going to win, I might lose. You wouldn’t happen to have any of that Felix Felicis on you, would you?”

“No. And besides, I don’t know if it helps that much. We didn’t win last year, don’t you remember? And we didn’t really win in the Department of Mysteries. We lost Sirius.”

Ron looked down at his pillow helplessly, and Harry could see that he really was scared. He’d just been trying to give Harry some courage.

“Ron,” Harry said softly, and he looked up. “You said his name.”

Ron looked around sheepishly, as though trying not to smile too proudly. “Well, I might have to face him, you know? And how would that be, standing in front of him and calling him You Know Who? It’s silly, really, the whole thing with his name. I wonder what blooming idiot started it…”

Harry lay back and looked up at the ceiling. He was glad to have Ron, but he was missing Hermione. It wasn’t the same, all this talk, without her there. She should have called them down to the Common Room hours ago. Where was she?

“Do you think Luna stayed?” Harry asked.

“I know she did. She’s….she’s really brave, that one.”

“What about Neville? And Ginny?”

“They’re here I’m sure. And Fred and George as well. They poked their heads through late last night. Though at first McGonagall didn’t want to let them in. She made them empty out their pockets, as though they would try to prank Voldemort himself….she’s nutty as a bat sometimes…I mean, the only things she found were a couple of darts loaded with instant hair grow serum, and a bit of infatuation potion specially formulated for Deatheaters, no big deal…”

Harry smiled. Fred and George. And Ginny, and Neville, and Luna. His friends and allies. And of course there was Ron.

Harry swung his legs out of bed. There was someone missing from that list. And he had to go and find her.

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

Ron had been right about the order taking over the castle. There were strange and serious faces sweeping everywhere throughout the halls, many levitating suitcases behind them, others looking about as though they had no idea of where to go. Hogwarts was filled to the brim with not only every order member and every Auror, but also nearly everyone from the Ministry of Magic.

As the boys stood staring, they were nearly knocked over by a very frightened looking Fang, as he ran into their knees and then jumped up to place both paws on Ron’s chest.

“Bloody Hell,” Ron moaned, trying to avoid being drooled on. “Fang, what’s your problem?”

“I think he can sense your new, canine-ness,” Harry teased, then stopped as he saw Professor Lupin coming towards them, breathless.

“Come, boys, we’re convening in the Great Hall in five minutes,” he said, and quickly ushered them forward.

“Wait,” Harry said. “Where’s Hermione?”

Lupin glanced around as though looking for her. “I don’t know, Harry. But don’t worry. She’ll probably turn up in the Great Hall.”

“And where’s Hagrid?” Ron asked. “Why’s he letting this drooling beast run all over?”

“Hagrid is in the forest, seeing what aid we can get from the centaurs.”

“That’s a waste,” Ron mumbled. “I can tell you right now that we won’t get any help from them.”

Lupin looked at him with exasperation.

“Don’t look at me like that; you know how they are! ‘We don’t interfere in human affairs’” he mimicked in a very low, serious voice. And then he made a sound with his nose like a horse snorting.

Harry elbowed Ron lightly, trying not to smirk, and then walked towards the Great Hall.

They stopped short in the hallway, which was a mistake. Only a moment later they were pushed forward in a great wave, hearing annoyed voices say things like, ‘out of the way there!’ and ‘come on, get a move on!’. They let themselves be carried along for a few seconds, and then fought out of the current, staying as close to the walls as possible, with a trembling Fang milling between their legs.

The Great Hall was filled with witches and wizards, their black robes swirling as they sought to find space at the tables. They looked like a great flock of crows. Professor McGonagall was at the head table, but it wasn’t the other professors who were by her side. It was the members of the order.

This is our army, Harry thought, with neither hope nor disappointment. He looked over the tables carefully. He couldn’t see Hermione anywhere. He felt a moment of panic. Did anyone know where she was? Didn’t anyone realize that she could be in danger? What if she’d been taken and nobody had noticed?

“There’s Mum and Dad,” Ron said, nudging him.

Harry looked over at a nearby table and saw the entire Weasley clan, plus Neville and Luna. Even Percy was there, though he was looking more than a little bit pale. He started to follow Ron over to where they were sitting, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

It was Professor McGonagall, and she appeared very flustered.

“Potter,” she said, glancing around the room, “we thought it might be best if you went and started your training with Professors Lupin and Moody.”

“But-” Harry started, “isn’t there a meeting?”

“Yes, but it isn’t necessary for you to be here. We’re just…getting everyone together….and….” she paused. “Well, there’s plenty of preparation to be done. But if you’d rather stay and be gawked at-”

“No,” Harry said quickly. “I’ll go. But Professor, have you seen Hermione anywhere?”

“What?” McGonagall said distractedly. “Miss Granger? Yes, I saw her this morning. She took her breakfast early and then went off…I presumed in search of you.”

“Did she look….”

“Did she look what, Potter?”

“Nothing,” Harry said, relieved that at least someone had seen her.

“Well, off you go then,” she said. “And on your way, find Alastor and ask him for his help.”

Harry squinted at her. “You’re trying to get him out of the meeting, aren’t you?”

McGonagall returned his squint through her rectangular spectacles. “Can you blame me?”

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

After two hours of defensive spells, an hour and a half of evasion spells, two hours of trying to summon up the power of his scar at will (which he still couldn’t seem to do), four hours of straight dueling, and two more hours spent being mended by Madam Pomfrey, a very exhausted Harry Potter found himself back in the Gryffindor Common Room.

If they keep training me like this, I won’t even be able to lift my wand arm when I have to face Voldemort, he thought as he paced. He refused to sit down on the sofa. The warm, inviting sofa. Because if he did, he’d be instantly asleep. And he didn’t want that, because he hadn’t seen Hermione all day.

Where was she? She couldn’t still be angry with him…and even if she is, he thought bitterly, doesn’t she realize that we don’t have that much time left? The thought suddenly made him very angry, and he was just about to go and fall asleep on the sofa out of sheer spite, when the Common Room erupted with some very Weasley activity.

Ron, Fred, George, Ginny and Luna burst through the portrait hole. Fred, George and Ginny appeared to be in high spirits, but Ron was scowling, and soon enough, Harry realized why: his hands were covered in red fur.

“Ron! Your hands!” Harry exclaimed, rushing towards him.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Ron mumbled, glaring at his siblings, “It’s only their stupid instant hair grow serum.”

“Oh,” Harry said, and tried to keep from smiling with relief.

“Wouldn’t be so bad, really,” continued Ron, “except that Luna keeps on trying to curry comb my fur.”

Harry bit his tongue to keep from laughing, and looked over to where Ginny was standing with Luna by her side. There was indeed a curry comb in her hands.

“She’s just practicing for the next full moon,” George laughed.

“Yeah, I bet she’s got your pink satin bows all picked out…” Fred added, and then turned and walked away.

Ron glowered after his brothers. “You just wait until the next full moon…I know who I’m going to be biting first….”

Harry smiled weakly, though part of him did wonder whether or not Ron would get the urge to give people a little nip.

“Ron,” he asked. “Have you seen Hermione?”

“No,” Ron answered thoughtfully. “Not once all day, actually. Where do you suppose she’s got off to?”

But Harry barely heard him, because he was already ducking through the portrait hole.

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

Though nobody seemed to know where Hermione was, Harry found her in the first place that he looked. In the Restricted Section of the library. But to be fair, if he hadn’t been looking, he might have missed her. She was completely obscured by stacks and stacks of dusty books. As Harry crept around the corner of the table, he saw that she was fast asleep, with her head resting on her parchment. She still had a quill in her hand.

Harry glanced over the titles piled up around her. Blourish’s Encyclopedia of Curse Removal, Magical Maladies, and Evil Magic if You Dare were just a few. The book she had been reading before she fell asleep was open to a chapter on magical extraction.

Harry brushed her hair back from her temple tenderly. She was trying to find a way to save him.

“Hermione,” he whispered, and she stirred slightly. He didn’t really want to wake her. As hard as he had worked his body that day, she had worked her mind, and she deserved the rest. Carefully, he slipped his arms around her, and pulled her away from the table, lifting her easily.

“Harry?” she muttered groggily, her head against his shoulder.

“Shush,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “We’re just going back to the Common Room. Filch would set Mrs. Norris on you, if he found you here.”

“I’m a prefect,” she mumbled, making him smile, and then she came a bit more awake as he carried her out. “No, Harry…at least….Wingardium Leviosa….”

“That’s a cop-out,” he said simply, and carried her all the way through the castle, up the stairs, and through the portrait hole.

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

“Wake up, love-birds, it’s almost nine.”

Harry blinked until Fred’s face came into focus, leaning down over the back of the sofa.

“What….Oh!” Hermione exclaimed as she saw the small crowd gathered around them as they lay curled together. She quickly drew the blanket up over her head.

Harry stretched happily. He had never slept so well. He looked around. Ron was watching them with the same expression he had worn when Harry had kissed Ginny after the Quidditch match. Fred and George were grinning. Ginny herself was looking pointedly away, and after a moment or two, she announced that she was going to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and ducked out.

“Come on Hermione,” George teased. “You don’t have to be so embarrassed…you were only sleeping….it’s not as though you were….SNOGGING!” The twins laughed grandly, and Ron made a face and announced he was going to join his sister in the Great Hall.

Hermione tore the blanket down off of her head. “Be careful George,” she warned. “After the things I’ve been reading, I could curse you in ways that you could only imagine… and none of your Wizarding Wheezes would be able to save you!”

“We’d better go,” Fred said, smiling. “She sounds as mean as Mum!”

Hermione squinted at them as they skulked from the room, and then turned to Harry.

“That was embarrassing,” she whispered. “How did we end up on the sofa?”

“I carried you,” Harry shrugged. “All the way from the library. And by the time I reached the sofa, I could go no farther. You’re quite the lump.” He laughed when she punched him in the arm. “Were you in the Restricted Section all day?”

She nodded, and then her brows knit. “But I couldn’t find anything, Harry! I searched and searched…but there’s nothing…”

“No handy ways to separate a cursed scar from one’s forehead?”

“Don’t joke,” she said seriously. “And don’t give up either.” Her expression was so determined that for a moment Harry did feel a glimmer of hope. “I’m going to go to the library at the Ministry today,” she continued. “They must have something…and if they don’t, then I’ll floo over to Beauxbatons…and I’ve already written to Viktor-”

“You wrote to Krum?” Harry said suddenly.

“Yes, but this is no time to get jealous. I was writing to him about you…as usual,” she added under her breath. “So by the end of today, I’ll have something…we’ll know something, I know it, I just have to-”

“Hermione, don’t go.”

She was quiet for a moment, just blinking at him. “What do you mean don’t go? There’s nothing here at Hogwarts, I already told you-”

“If you’re going to try the Ministry, then you may as well stay here,” Harry reasoned. “Half of the Ministry is here anyway. If you ask around-”

“But Harry, most of them didn’t even know about your scar when they came; they can’t have had proper time to research it. I’ll go, and I’ll be back this evening-”

Harry was shaking his head. Didn’t she understand? There was nothing they could do. He could feel it. All he wanted was this time with her.

But he wouldn’t get any time, he knew, if Lupin and Moody had their way. If they got their hands on him, he’d be training from dawn til dusk. He looked down at Hermione, at her busy eyes full of thought. And then he kissed her entreatingly.

“Come with me today,” he said into her ear. “We’ll take Buckbeak and go, just the two of us.”

She nibbled her lower lip uncertainly, and he wanted to kiss her again. “But Harry, what about Voldemort….he could be coming…we’re not ready…”

“Please,” he said softly. “One last ride.”

The tears rose quickly into her eyes, but she blinked them away and nodded.

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

With the amount of people milling about in the castle, it was surprisingly easy for them to slip away. Before they left, Harry found Ron and told him that they would stay close, and that they would be back soon.

“I wouldn’t worry about missing anything,” Ron said glumly. “Knowing You-er-Voldemort, he’ll be shooting dark marks into the sky for miles before he gets here.”

“Just…Be careful,” said Harry, not knowing what else to say. And then he snuck down to the pumpkin patch, where Hermione and Buckbeak were already waiting.

“I packed a bit of lunch,” she said awkwardly, indicating the bag over her shoulder.

“Great. Did you pack breakfast too? I’m starving,” he said and kissed her. “What’s the matter?”

Hermione squirmed. “This isn’t terribly responsible, Harry.”

Harry searched her face. Was she changing her mind? She couldn’t be…he needed this time with her. He needed her.

But then, to his relief, she climbed up onto Buckbeak’s back, and held her hand out to him. And a few minutes later, there was no Hogwarts. No Voldemort. No war.

Only the wind and the sky and their hippogriff. And the two of them together.

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

After diving and whirling for what could have been hours but seemed only seconds, Hermione guided Buckbeak down into a small clearing. The hippogriff nuzzled her affectionately as she dismounted, but Harry thought that he seemed a bit relieved to get them off his back. He gave Harry a light nip on the shoulder, and then trotted off into the woods, presumably to hunt chipmunks.

Hermione knelt down on the ground and began to unpack the contents of her bag: two sandwiches, some biscuits, and two jars of pumpkin juice.

“What, no butterbeer?” Harry teased. The flight had left him completely, deliriously happy. And he knew that it was all because of her. He knelt down and kissed her, making her giggle as he pushed her back onto the grass.

“I love you,” he said simply, and was horrified when her smile faded and she looked away. “Hermione? What is it?” She doesn’t feel the same, he thought, and suddenly felt cold all over.

“It’s stupid,” she muttered.

“What’s stupid?” he asked desperately.

She shook her head. “It’s just that…do you really mean it, Harry?”

“Of course I do. Why would you think I don’t?” He was grinning, which probably wasn’t the best thing to do in the situation, but he was so relieved by her words that he couldn’t help it.

“Well, did you ever- I mean- did you ever say the same thing to Ginny?”

For a minute Harry thought that she must be joking, but she wasn’t even looking at him. She was wearing a very serious expression, and staring off over his shoulder. For the first time he realized what it must have been like for her, seeing him with someone else.

“Hermione,” he said softly. “Look at me.” It took her a moment, but finally she turned her eyes to him. “I never loved her.”

“Really? Then what was all that nonsense about the trees by the lake reminding you of her, and Ginny this, and Ginny that, and Ginny you look so pretty in your bridesmaid dress…Oh, this is ridiculous isn’t it? Why am I feeling this way?” She hid her face in her hands, but he gently tugged them away and held them in his own.

“Because I was an idiot,” he said. “For six years I was an idiot. I couldn’t see what was right in front of my face. You told me once that I wasn’t as bad as Ron, and you were right, I was worse. I couldn’t figure out that the girl who really knew me, who saved me from everything, was the one I really wanted.” He grinned at her. “I was a total git…for six years, not knowing that I was in love with my best friend-”

“And that she was in love with you,” Hermione whispered.

“I know. Looking back now it seems so obvious-”

“I wasn’t obvious!”

Harry kissed her flushed cheek. “You were obvious, Hermione. Like, anvil-obvious.”

“Anvil!” she sputtered, and then fell silent, nibbling her lip in the way that she had when she was thinking of something particularly worrisome. “Harry…do you think that…well, if it wasn’t for Voldemort…do you think we could’ve been happy together?”

“Don’t think like that Hermione. We are happy together.” And then he gasped as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly.

“I know. But I have to think like that, because….because you might-”

“I know,” Harry said solemnly. “We might not have much time.” He hadn’t wanted to talk about that. He hadn’t wanted it to interfere with their day, but now the full force of it fell upon his shoulders like a sack of grain. He could die. He could leave her here, alone, or worse, she could die as well. “Don’t cry,” he said gently, but she didn’t seem to be able to stop herself, even when he kissed her.

“You won’t die,” she said, her voice strong again. “You won’t. You can’t, not when we’ve finally gotten things together; I won’t let you.” She stared up at his forehead, her eyes shining. “I’ll get that thing off of you if I have to cut it off!”

“It can’t possibly be that easy, can it?” Harry said skeptically.

“No,” she said with regret. “And I really doubt that I would be able to cut you, even if it was.” She looked up at him. “But we will find a way around it, won’t we, Harry?”

“I don’t know, Hermione,” he said sadly. “All I do know, is that I’m grateful for what we have now. No matter how long it lasts.”

She pressed her lips to his again, opening herself to him, and he knew then that they would have had everything, had it not been for Voldemort. They would have had forever.

“I love you, Harry.”

“I love you, Hermione.”

When he heard the blast ring out to the west, he didn’t want to look. He squeezed his eyes shut against looking, because he knew what it would be. And he hated Voldemort, just as he had always hated him as his scar began to burn.

“It’s the dark mark! Harry! He’s coming!”

At the urgency in Hermione’s voice, Harry’s eyes flew open. It was there, high in the fading sky, the disgusting skull and the protruding snake. And it was closer than he’d thought. And moving closer by the second.

“We have to go. Now!” He said, looking into her eyes. But she wasn’t looking back at him. She was looking down at their uneaten picnic, and he felt a pang as he realized that she was thinking of all the other things they wouldn’t do.

A second blast went off. It was much louder than the first, and a second dark mark lit in the sky to the south.

“Hermione!” Harry said sternly, and she finally heard him, calling out to Buckbeak as they scrambled to their feet. In seconds, the hippogriff was galloping towards them, and then they were on his back and in the sky, with Hermione yelling into his ear to go faster. Please go faster.

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

They weren’t fast enough. The Deatheaters spotted them, and sent up a flurry of hexes, and though Buckbeak dove and twisted, he was finally struck in the shoulder. Harry shielded Hermione as best he could as they spiraled toward the ground, through the trees.

“Buckbeak!” Hermione cried, and then they landed in an ungainly heap, after the hippogriff stumbled and collapsed. Harry could hear voices in the forest, and the sounds of running feet.

“We have to go,” Harry said, tugging on her arm.

“We can’t leave him, Harry! They’ll kill him!”

Harry looked up through the trees desperately. The whole world seemed filled with screams and blasts. And there was smoke rising from the direction of Hogwarts.

“They’ve already reached the castle! We have to go! Voldemort- he’s reached the castle!” He tried to pull Hermione up by the arm, who was in turn trying to help Buckbeak to his feet. “Look, you can’t lift him, he’s a bloody hippogriff- we’ll have to levitate him or something-” but at the suggestion, Buckbeak squawked and snapped at his arm.

“Harry get down!”

He just managed to duck fast enough to avoid the hex that would have taken his head off. Behind him, as though sensing the increasing urgency of the situation, Buckbeak struggled to his feet and stood wavering on three legs.

“We’ll have to make a run for it,” Hermione said.

“Too late,” Harry answered, seeing the movement in the trees. An entire legion of Deatheaters was bearing down on them. And they appeared to have giants as well. He reached for Hermione and pulled her close; she squeezed him tightly, her wand arm raised and steady. But Harry feared that all the hexes in the world wouldn’t save them now.

Just then, a volley of arrows shot out all around them. Harry could hear the cries of Deatheaters and giants alike as some of the arrows hit their marks. He turned around. There must’ve been a hundred centaurs marching through the trees, and leading them, were Bane and Firenze.

“Firenze!” Harry and Hermione exclaimed in surprise.

“Go Harry,” the centaur said, without looking down at them. “they need your help at the castle. We’ll take care of these.”

“But you-” Hermione started, “You don’t interfere with human affairs…”

“They have brought abomination into our forest. It is a ‘human affair’ no longer. We have a common enemy. Now hurry. The dark lord has laid siege to Hogwarts.”

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

“How are we going to get through?” Hermione hissed in a panic.

Frankly, Harry wasn’t sure. The castle was entirely surrounded, and there was a fierce battle going on; he could scarcely hear himself think over the cries of Auror and Deatheater alike. As he watched with growing horror, he saw a body fall from one of the top-most parapets, and felt Hermione gasp and turn her face into his shoulder as it hit the ground below.

“We have to get inside,” Harry said urgently.

“But how? We can’t just charge…we’d never make it,” Hermione exclaimed, staring out hopelessly at the struggling mass of bodies.

Harry turned to Buckbeak, who was also watching the scene with great interest. As though he could sense the importance of the moment. Harry reached out and stroked his wing.

“Harry no; he’s hurt.”

“Only his shoulder. He can still fly.” Harry turned the hippogriff’s head towards him. “You can still fly, can’t you boy?”

Buckbeak blinked at him slowly, and then tucked his wings down, just as he always did when they climbed onto his back. Harry grinned and held his hand out to Hermione, who reluctantly took it and sprang up behind Buckbeak’s wings.

“Where are we aiming for?” she asked tremulously as he climbed up behind her.

“Where ever we can get to,” Harry said. “Now hang on tight.”

Buckbeak was airborne in one quick leap, flapping hard to compensate for his injured shoulder. Of course they were spotted in no time, and Harry felt a stun pass close to his ear.

“Give us some cover!” he shouted to Hermione, but she already had her wand drawn, firing off nonverbal curses across the hippogriff’s neck. Harry followed suit, trying to keep his aim steady as Buckbeak swooped and spun. But they were close to the castle now. They were going to make it.

The landing was rough, to say the least. Buckbeak’s shoulder was very bad; he could barely keep his footing, and nearly sent them both toppling to the ground as he staggered.

Harry and Hermione dismounted quickly, and ran through the archway into the castle. From somewhere nearby, there was an enormous crash, and they could hear the sound of collapsing stone. The walls had been breached.

“We’ve got to find the order,” Harry said, and then, at the frightened look on Hermione’s face, added, “Ron and the others will probably be with them.”

“But- they’d be on the front lines…they’d never take Ron and the others there..”

“They might not be on the front,” Harry reasoned. “More likely they’re in a panic looking for me.” The two of them looked at each other levelly. Harry knew that he should feel guilty for not being at the castle when the attack came. But he just couldn’t somehow.

“If only we had the Marauder’s Map,” Hermione lamented. “Though actually it wouldn’t do much good; I forgot to put the spell back into it…oh Harry! How are we going to find them?”

Harry tried to block out the noise around them and think. And then his eyes flew open.

“Expecto Patronum!” he shouted, and his silver stag burst forth. “Find Remus Lupin!” Harry ordered, saying the first name he could think of.

The stag bounded away, and the three of them, Harry, Hermione, and Buckbeak, were fast on its heels. When they finally found Professor Lupin, it wasn’t in the condition that Harry had hoped.

“Professor Lupin! Are you all right?”

He was lying in a heap in the main corridor, just outside the closed doors of the Great Hall.

“Harry? Hermione? We’ve been looking for you….we thought that…you’d been taken…”

“I’m sorry Professor, we were-” Harry searched for words to explain, and then abandoned the attempt. “Where are you hurt? Where are the others?”

Professor Lupin looked almost too weak to talk. There were large burns in his clothing, and a line of blood was running from his forehead down into his eyes.

“He’s here, Harry,” he whispered finally, and Harry went cold all over. “He took them…all of them…”

“All of who? Took them where?” Harry searched his face for answers, shaking him lightly. He appeared to be close to losing consciousness.

“Remus!”

Harry and Hermione turned to see Tonks rushing towards them. She flung herself down beside Professor Lupin and held her hand to his head to try and stop the bleeding. “What’s happened?” she asked.

“Voldemort has taken them,” Harry answered without knowing who ‘them’ was.

“Who? Taken who?”

“Professor McGonagall,” Lupin said weakly. “and Hagrid….and Ron and Luna.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, and behind him, Hermione gave a small cry.

“Where has he taken them?”

Professor Lupin looked towards the Great Hall. “In there.”

Harry turned to Hermione. There was fear on her face, but there was something else too. He went to her, and took her in his arms.

“Harry-”

“Shush,” he said gently. “I need you to know something. Before we go-” he pulled back to look into her eyes. “I need you to know.”

“What?” she asked softly.

“You’ve always been with me. Since the beginning you were always the one. Through three headed dogs and basilisks, dragons and prophecies, and now, here at the end, you’re with me. I need you to know that I finally know what that means.”

Hermione had been listening intently, her eyes shining, but then she squeezed them shut. When they opened again, she looked as brave as he’d ever seen her.

“Do you remember everything you’ve learned?” she asked, placing both hands on the sides of his face.

“Everything I’ve learned,” he said, trying to quickly commit every inch of her to memory, “Everything you’ve taught me.”

She took his hand and stood beside him. “Then draw your wand,” she said, staring at the closed doors of the Great Hall, where their friends were in desperate need of their help. “No time like the present to be a hero.”

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

When they burst through the door they had no time to lose. Curses and hexes were flying everywhere, and from somewhere, Harry could hear Ron shouting. Scanning the room he found him, crouched over Luna, and trying to defend her against Voldemort himself. Professor McGonagall was on the other side, sending stuns at a Deatheater, apparently trying to protect Hagrid, who was lying on the ground and clutching his ribs, his wand-infused umbrella broken at his side.

Harry glanced at Hermione and she nodded, and she and Buckbeak ran towards Professor McGonagall while Harry sprinted towards Ron and Voldemort.

Ron had lost his wand. He was crouched down low between Voldemort and Luna, and his hands were clenched into fists, as though he was going to try to fight the wizard hand to hand. Voldemort was laughing, and as he raised his wand, Harry saw the tip begin to glow green.

“Avada-”

“Expelliarmus!” Harry shouted, but his aim went wide. It didn’t matter, however, because the effect was what he intended; Voldemort turned towards him; Ron and Luna were forgotten.

“Harry Potter. I was hoping you’d be here,” Voldemort said congenially. “To witness the end of your world. And the beginning of mine.”

Harry’s heart was pounding madly. Ron was staring at him, as he gathered Luna’s body in his arms, but he appeared to be unsure what else to do. Behind them, the room was filling with people, witches and wizards fighting to the death. But on their end of the Great Hall, it was completely still. There was no one in the world besides Harry Potter, and Lord Voldemort.

“Crucio!” Voldemort shouted, his calm face twisting into a sneer.

Harry felt his body wracked with pain so intense that he barely noticed that he was being lifted through the air and flung headlong into the side of the nearest table.

“You’ve been a thorn in my side for long enough,” Voldemort was saying calmly, staring at his wand and dusting at it with his fingertips as though it had been soiled. “Really, you should thank me for allowing you to live this long.”

Harry opened his eyes to see the black feet coming towards him, the folds of his greenish black robe swishing inches above the floor. He could barely move. It had been the strongest curse he had ever endured; it felt like his insides had been liquefied. And then he was lifted off of the ground, by Voldemort’s hand around his neck.

“Do you see how strong I’ve grown, Harry?” the dark wizard said with his teeth bared. “Do you see how futile this fight is? In moments, my armies will have overrun this pathetic castle, and everyone you know will be dead. Or tortured. Or both.”

His legs dangling in the air, Harry fought for breath. He clawed at the hand around his throat, but he was quickly becoming exhausted. The light was going out of his eyes.

“Harry!”

Harry’s lids fluttered. It was Hermione, dodging through Deatheaters. His heart skipped a beat as three curses flew towards her, but at the last second she swept her wand across her chest and disappeared, sending the curses awry and reappearing several feet closer to him and still running. Great Lateo, he thought proudly, and smiled despite the pain.

“Impedimenta!” Voldemort shouted suddenly, and Hermione was thrown backwards and lay in a heap. With one final squeeze on his throat, the wizard dropped Harry, who fell struggling for breath.

“Hermione,” he tried to say, but couldn’t. Don’t touch her! He thought desperately, and felt his scar begin to burn.

“So it is true then,” Voldemort said, pulling Hermione up by the hair. She winced and resisted, but the force of his hex had made her weak.

“Young men do seek to find a girl who reminds them of their mothers,” the dark lord sneered. “This one seems to fit the bill…foolish enough to risk herself for you….and of course, a Mudblood…”

“Let her go,” Harry croaked in a voice that he hardly recognized as his own. His scar was throbbing with every beat of his heart. He was clutching his wand with renewed strength; Hermione looked so frightened, and it was enraging him.

“Thank me, Potter,” Voldemort said regally. “Thank me for letting you live and I’ll make her end pain-free.” He smiled cruelly and yanked back on her hair. Harry’s scar burned so intently he thought it would catch fire.

“You have cost me years,” Voldemort spat. “You have cost me prophecies, and pain, and an army of werewolves.”

Harry rose to his feet. The burn that started in his scar was singing through his entire body and he was no longer frightened. But he had to get to Voldemort, and Hermione was standing directly in the way. And though he didn’t have his wand pointed at her, she couldn’t get free; the wizard was too strong. He looked into her eyes, and heard her voice in his head as plainly as if she were standing right beside him.

Lateo only works if there are active curses or hexes in the air.

“Thank me!” Voldemort exploded. “Thank me for your life and hers you insolent brat!”

Harry looked at Hermione and saw her clutch her wand more tightly.

“Thank you, Hermione,” he said, his scar burning white hot. “Thank you for your brilliance.” And then he raised his wand. “Stupefy!” he shouted, sending the curse straight for her.

And just like he knew she would, she swept her wand across her chest silently, and disappeared from Voldemort’s grasp. Harry wasted no time. He bolted across the distance between himself and Voldemort, and leapt, grappling with the dark wizard and plunging his wand straight into his heart.

“Fulminate!” Harry shouted, and then his world went bright. Very bright. And then, very dark.

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

“Harry?”

Harry blinked, and focused in on the only face that he wanted to see. There were tears on her cheeks, but she was all right. He squeezed her as tightly as he could manage when she threw herself onto him.

“What happened?”

“It’s over, Harry,” he heard Ron say, and turned his head to see him. “You did it…you took out the lot of them…and Voldemort…”

“Is everyone-” Harry started, sitting up and wincing. “Where is everyone- Professor McGonagall…Hagrid-”

“He’s fussing over Buckbeak,” Hermione sobbed happily. “And Professor McGonagall is fine. She’s unconscious, but she’s fine. We- we don’t know about anyone else yet.”

Harry smiled at her, and then his vision went red as blood dripped into his eye. “Ow,” he said sheepishly, touching his forehead. His fingers followed the line of blood, to his scar. Or rather, to where his scar had once been. “What?” he said incredulously. “My scar-”

“It bloody exploded!” Ron said. “Lightning everywhere, bodies falling…it hurt my bloody eyes.”

Harry laughed with relief, and looked at Hermione.

“It’s really over,” she smiled, and kissed him.

Harry looked over her shoulder at the ruins of the Great Hall. There was smoke everywhere. And lying only a few feet away, was a charred pile of greenish black robes.

“Is that-?”

He knew that it was Voldemort by the way that everyone fell silent. He pulled himself to his feet.

What was left of the dark lord was nothing more than ashes. Just ashes left of all of the terror that had savaged the wizarding world. Harry stared down at it, and then, after a moment, kicked the pile and sent it flying.

“Thank you,” he hissed, tears for his fallen family shining in his eyes.

“Thank you for giving me a way to kill you. Thank you for giving me my scar.”

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

*****************EPILOGUE******************

Harry Potter stood by the punch bowl tugging at the collar of his dress robes. He had tied his bow tie too tight that morning, because he had been distracted by Molly Weasley’s yelling. Apparently, Fred and/or George had transfigured the ice sculpture into something extremely inappropriate. She had threatened to hex them for nearly ten minutes until they changed it back to what it had been: a delicate and flowing mermaid.

Harry looked at the sculpture where it stood in the center of the long table, spouting champagne, and smirked. It’s a good thing that Molly hadn’t looked at it too closely; it still had a long monkey’s tail.

The Burrow looked beautiful. Even more so than at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. There were flowers everywhere, enchanted to float in the air just above the heads of the guests. The tables were draped in satin and covered with candles. And on the dance floor, a girl in white was dancing with her father.

Ginny looked fantastic. Her red hair was like fire falling down her shoulders, and her dress swirled as she spun. Harry smiled. She was a beautiful bride. As he watched, a rather befuddled looking young man approached and cut in between Ginny and Arthur.

“Can’t believe she married a Muggle.”

Harry turned his head and saw his best friend, Ron Weasley, leaning against the table beside him, lazily sipping champagne. “He seems nice enough,” Harry said, looking at Ginny’s new husband, whom she had met on a trip to London two years before.

“Mum says she must get it from Dad,” Ron quipped. “Muggle lovers.”

Harry grinned and elbowed him lightly. “Where’s Luna?”

Ron nodded over to their left, and Harry saw a lovely blonde girl, wearing a very strange dress made almost entirely of feathers. She was talking very animatedly to someone Harry recognized as working for the Ministry.

“Who’s that she’s talking to?”

Ron followed his gaze. “Uh oh,” he said with a grin. “That’s Norbert Figman, the new head of the Magical Creatures Department.”

“Why’s that so bad?”

“Because she’s trying to get the Ministry to fund another one of her expeditions.”

“But they won’t?”

Ron shook his head. “I think they’re still a bit peeved about the last one…you know, when what she thought was a crumple horned snorkack turned out to be just a deformed Muggle goat.”

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing. Ron and Luna had married right out of school, and ever since, they never failed to amuse everyone around them, including each other.

Luna was beginning to stomp her foot emphatically, and Mr. Figman was looking more and more uncomfortable.

“I’d better go stop her,” Ron grinned, and then he walked away to grab his wife and whisk her to the dance floor.

Harry watched them fondly as they laughed and twirled. And then he went back to tugging on his collar. If only it would stretch…just an inch or two….

“Stop tugging at that.”

“I wasn’t, I-” And then he stopped talking, because Hermione was smiling at him dazzlingly. She looked amazing in her black evening gown, a simple string of pearls around her neck. Staring at her, Harry was extremely glad that Ginny had elected not to have any bridesmaids, after Fleur made an issue over being the Matron of Honor.

He leaned in to kiss her, feeling the same warmth flow into his chest that he always felt when he kissed her, so familiar now, but no less thrilling than the very first time.

“Dance with me,” she said, taking his hand.

She moved lightly in his arms, and he held her close, breathing her in. It had been seven years since Voldemort’s defeat, since the end of the war. Six years since the last of the horcruxes had been extinguished. Four years since they had become Aurors. And Harry and Hermione had been married for three. She reached up and brushed his hair away from his forehead, where his scar used to be. Thanks to Madam Pomfrey, the wound left from the battle had left almost no mark at all…just a small crescent near his hairline. Barely a memory.

“Ginny’s married,” Hermione said with a smile, and Harry nodded. “Ron and Luna are married….Fred and George will NEVER marry….”

“Nor should they,” Harry said. “Poor woman…”

Hermione laughed, then grew serious. “And you and I…”

Harry kissed her softly. “Are luckier than all of them put together.” He felt his heart beat faster as she laid her head on his shoulder. “Even luckier than the woman who will never have to marry Fred or George.” He smiled as he heard her giggle.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Sometimes things do turn out all right in the end, don’t they.”

He bent his head and kissed her hair, so grateful for her, for his life.

“Yes,” he said. “Sometimes things turn out just perfect.”

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

THE END.

And that’s it. Don’t any of you give up on our favorite couple.