Author's Note: Ah, Chapter Thirty-Four. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks for the reviews everyone! Enjoy!
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
THE BOND
May's arrival came far too quickly for Harry and for all of the fifth and seventh years in general. There were less than six weeks until the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. examinations, which made Harry, among others, very nervous. Ron looked downright queasy every time the professors mentioned N.E.W.T.s, which was daily.
Hermione, meanwhile, drew up her usual studying time tables for Harry, Ron, and herself. When Ron glanced down at his, he turned a delicate shade of green.
"I'm never going to get to spend time with Luna, aren't I?" he groaned.
"If you manage your time right, you can see her on the weekends. That means you can't procrastinate on your homework," Hermione said, causing him to groan again.
"Aren't we overworked enough?" Ron asked. "I mean, Harry and I have Quidditch practice tomorrow and Wednesday. We don't have time to study all this."
"Can you produce water from your wand? Can you conjure up a table? Can you transfigure a person into a ferret?" Hermione asked sternly.
"Yes, no, and no," Ron replied.
"Then quit whining and start studying! I'm sure Luna will understand," Hermione said, grabbing her Arithmancy book and starting in on her homework.
"I don't see why this is so important when I'm probably going to end up working in Fred and George's shop," Ron grumbled.
"Don't you have any higher expectations of yourself than that?" Hermione asked. "Or do you see yourself as nothing but a sales clerk to your brothers all the rest of your life? At least Harry has higher expectations of himself than becoming a professional Quidditch player."
"Hey, that's not a bad career," Ron said. "Even someone as pathetic as Galvin Grudgeon makes a load of Galleons every year. More than an Auror, even."
"Yes, because society has this screwed up idea that just because a person can play a sport, they should be paid higher than a teacher or a Healer. The person probably has only two skills anyway-flying and dodging Bludgers. It's stupid," Hermione said. "I bet Professor McGonagall doesn't even get paid half of what Galvin Grudgeon does and her job's a lot more meaningful than just entertaining a large group of people."
"Hermione," Ron said with an exasperated sigh, "you just don't understand Quidditch."
"And I hope that I never do," she said.
He rolled his eyes and closed his Charms book. "You know what? I think I'll go find Luna and ask her to study with me." Without further ado, he packed up his bag and left.
"Gone to find her and snog, more like it," Harry muttered, as he worked on his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework.
Hermione laughed. "That wouldn't surprise me in the slightest." She looked out the window. "Oh, it's such a nice day outside. Would you like to go out and do our homework there? We can see if the beech tree by the lake is available."
He smiled. "I'd like that.
They quickly packed up their things and headed toward the portrait hole. "After you," Harry said, waving her through. As she walked past him, he took a moment to appreciate her backside.
Hermione turned around. "What are you grinning at?"
"Oh, nothing," he said, his grin widening.
She rolled her eyes. "Well, come on then," she said.
He caught up to her quickly, still grinning.
"Next time you want to stare at my bum, though, all you have to do is ask," she said.
The two of them walked down the corridor, laughing.
*****
"This potion, made in just under an hour, has been asked for many times during the practical portion of your Potions N.E.W.T.," Snape said to them at the beginning of class the next day. "I believe many of you will may have heard of it in your fourth year when the Weasley twins tried to use it to cross the age line set by Dumbledore around the Goblet of Fire-an Aging Potion."
Harry remembered, all too well, the white beards both twins grew when the potion failed.
"You will find the instructions on the board," Snape said, waving his wand at the chalkboard behind him. "You have an hour. Begin."
Harry lit a fire underneath his cauldron and walked away to the student store cupboard with Hermione. Once both of them had all of their ingredients, they returned to their table and got to work.
He had just started shredding his fluxweed when it happened; a sharp pain lancing through his scar. He winced and bit his lip to keep himself from crying out. Dropping the fluxweed for a moment, he took deep, calming breaths and emptied himself of his emotions. When he finally achieved the state he needed to perform Occlumency, he went back to work.
Hermione shot him a questioning look. Harry only shook his head and went back to making his potion.
Snape swept up and down the rows, watching everyone with his dark eyes. When he came to Harry and Hermione's table, he looked down at them and scowled before moving on, obviously finding nothing to criticize.
An hour later, a watery yellowish potion was bubbling in Harry's cauldron. He stirred it counterclockwise twice as the board told him to do so, followed up by four clockwise stirs.
"You should be finished with your potion now," Snape said. "Bottle it, tag it, and leave it on my desk for grading."
Harry ladled a sample of his Aging Potion and put it in a bottle before corking it. Suddenly, he felt the pain in his scar again-an immense pain, much worse than before. He gasped and dropped his bottle; it shattered on the floor.
"Harry!" Hermione cried, alarmed.
People were staring. Snape swept up the row to him and said, "Five points from Gryffindor for your clumsiness, Potter. Be sure to clean this mess up!"
The Slytherins were sniggering. Harry saw that Malfoy had an ugly smirk on his face.
With the pain subsiding, Harry ladled up another batch of his Aging Potion, poured it into another bottle, corked it, and labeled it before taking it up to Snape's desk. When he returned to his own, he pointed his wand at the mess on the floor and said, "Evanesco." The potion and broken glass disappeared.
"Your scar was hurting you, wasn't it?" Hermione asked five minutes later as the ascended from the dungeons and walked into the entrance hall.
Harry nodded.
"Do you know why?" she asked.
"Not really. His emotions are a bit…masked," Harry said, rubbing his scar as it twitched in irritation. "All I know is that he's having a great surge of emotion. Anticipation, I think."
"Anticipation?" Hermione said in a worried voice. "What is he anticipating?"
"I dunno. I can't tell," Harry said. "I've been trying to use Occlumency against him since we left the dungeon." Which was true. Harry had once again calmed himself to the point of being able to use Occlumency.
"Well, I'm glad you're using it," she said.
"Yeah, well, so am I. It's not like I like feeling pain," he said.
She rolled her eyes. "Well of course you don't. Who actually likes to feel pain?"
"I dunno. I've always wondered about Snape…"
She laughed. "Are you questioning what else is in that dungeon?"
"I've wondered whether he's ever borrowed shackles from Filch," Harry said, causing Hermione to practically double over.
"That certainly raises questions about Filch as well, doesn't it?" Hermione said in between giggles.
Harry laughed as well. "I've always thought there was something odd, creepy, and rather sadistic about him."
Sniggering, the two of them entered Gryffindor Tower. Both of them searched around for Ron, but he wasn't in the common room. Instead, they walked over to where Ginny and Neville were sitting, talking.
"Hey, have you seen Ron?" Harry asked.
"I think he left to go spend time with Luna," she said.
Hermione sighed. "He's not keeping to his study schedule."
"When has either he or I ever really kept to the study schedule?" Harry said fairly. "As long as he's on time for Quidditch practice, I don't care."
"Well, then, it won't be my fault when he fails his Herbology N.E.W.T.," she said.
"Give it a rest, Hermione," Ginny said. "There's still time to study before N.E.W.T.s. You don't need to have a cow before June. It's not like your going to fail anything."
"Actually, Hermione," Neville said, "I was hoping that you'd arrange a study group for seventh year Gryffindors so that we could all study together and-er-have you correct us."
Harry nodded. "That's not a bad idea. I think you and I, as Head Boy and Head Girl, can arrange something like that to start in June."
"Really?" Neville said. "That would be great!"
"Yes, we'll invite the seventh years from other Houses to join us," Hermione said. "For unity's sake," she added when Harry and Ginny gave her sharp looks.
"Hopefully Malfoy doesn't come," Harry said, causing Ginny to frown.
"I suppose it all depends on how desperate he is," Hermione said.
"He doesn't show up to D.A. meetings," Neville pointed out. "Lots of people go to those."
"Lots of people use those meetings to help them get through their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.," Ginny said. "I sure did when it came to the practical portion."
"But the point of the D.A. isn't so that people can get through their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s," Harry said, feeling rather disgruntled over this new information. "It's to prepare people in case they ever find themselves face to face with a Death Eater."
"Well, yeah," Ginny said, "but it's got other good uses as well."
Feeling rather irritated, Harry grumbled, "I'm going down to Madam Hooch's office to pick up the crate for practice. I'll see you down on the pitch at four-thirty sharp, Ginny."
"Later, Captain," she said back.
Harry was walking down the stairs to the fourth floor when Nearly Headless Nick suddenly floated right though him.
"Oh, sorry, Harry," Nick said.
"It's okay," Harry said, feeling as though he had just had a bucket of ice water dumped on him.
"I was just rushing up to the sixth floor to fetch the Bloody Baron. You'll want to avoid the main stairwell leading down to the second floor-Peeves has put that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product, Sole Stickers, all over the steps. He's trapped five first years already," Nick told him. "I'm hoping the Bloody Baron will keep him from expanding his trap to the first and third floors."
"Right," Harry said. "Thanks for the warning."
"Oh, you're quite welcome," Nick said, floating away.
He was just about to go a different way when the little voice in his head that spoke in Hermione's voice said, You're Head Boy. You should help the first years. Sighing, he turned around and continued on his way until he reached the landing of the third floor. He tapped the step below him with his toe to test it out. Since it didn't stick, he figured he was alright until he reached the second floor.
"Why it's Potty, the Head Boy!" Peeves said happily when Harry stopped a few steps shy of the second floor landing. There were now two third years and a second year along with the five first years that Nick had mentioned stuck on the landing, all of whom where gazing up at Harry with pleading looks in their eyes.
"Hey Peeves," Harry said. "Having fun?"
"Why yes, now that you mention it," Peeves said with a wicked little grin. "I've got me some fishies!"
Harry glanced down at all of the people stuck to the floor. "Yeah, well, I thought I'd warn you that Nearly Headless Nick has gone to get the Bloody Baron and I don't think the Baron will be very pleased. I passed where he was on the sixth floor and he seemed to be in a towering inferno for some reason," Harry said, knowing that the lie would work. "I'd hate to have to deal with him right now.
Peeves shook slightly at this news. "He's really angry, you say?"
"Oh yeah, terribly so," Harry lied.
"Erm-well, I'll just go then," Peeves said, blowing a raspberry at the stuck students before scrambling away.
"Is the Blood Baron really in such a state?" the second year asked.
"Could be for all I know," Harry said. "I made the whole thing up, except for the fact that Nick is off to see him. Now, let's see what we can do about this mess you're in."
Remembering that Fred and George's new product repelled cleaning charms, Harry tried Vanishing it, but to no avail. It only started to spread more. Eventually, after trying a few more charms and spells that didn't work, Harry helped pull each of them out of their shoes and onto the steps above.
"Thanks, Potter," one of the third years-a Ravenclaw-said as he walked up the stairs. "I'll come back and get my shoes later."
Harry walked back up the stairs and used a secret stairwell behind a tapestry to get back down. After getting the crate of Quidditch balls from Madam Hooch's office, he finally made it to the pitch with about twenty minutes to spare.
Ron was already down here. He and Luna were sitting in the stands, talking and occasionally kissing.
"Oy!" Harry shouted, setting the crate down. "Can I get some help down here?"
Ron jumped up and rushed down to the pitch. He took one of the handles from Harry and helped him carry it to the middle of the pitch. "I don't know how you carried that thing down here all by yourself," Ron said. "It's bloody heavy."
"Yeah, well, I must be getting stronger," Harry said, which was true. All of the sit-ups and push ups that Moody was having Harry do was certainly helping his upper body strength. "What's Luna doing here?"
"She's come to watch us practice and root me on," Ron said, a bright smile forming on his face. "She likes to watch me fly."
"Okay. As long as she's not spying on us or anything," Harry said.
"Hey!" Ron said indignantly, dropping his end of the crate.
"I was just joking, Ron," Harry said. "Luna would never spy on us. I don't think she cares who wins the Quidditch Cup."
"Yeah, you're right, she doesn't. Although she did tell me that she would be rooting for Ravenclaw in the final match," he said sadly.
Harry chuckled. "What? You actually expected her to root for Gryffindor?"
"Well, maybe. Just a little," Ron mumbled, keeping his eyes averted.
Harry patted him on the back. "Can't have everything, I suppose. You better go kiss your girlfriend one more time and then meet me in the locker room. I suspect that the others will be arriving shortly."
He was right. Not five minutes after Harry walked into the locker room did Hunter walk in, talking to McGuire and Kirke. By the time Ron had joined them, Ginny and Natalie McDonald were there, too.
"Okay, I want to do a couple of agility drills before going over maneuvers," Harry said, leading his team out onto the pitch. "Natalie, Ginny, you're first."
The rest of the team stayed on the ground as both Ginny and Natalie took to the air and each performed a number of stunts to test their broom's handling. When they finished, Harry sent Hunter up alone, followed by McGuire and Kirke. Finally, he and Ron went through their runs, showing off the excellent flying abilities of both the Firebolt and the Phoenix.
"Right, get up here!" Harry yelled as he soared by the rest of the team after just having completed his drill. "Let's go through our maneuvers."
Harry couldn't help but be pleased with their performance. He watched them all moving flawlessly. It was no wonder that they were the best team in Hogwarts.
"Hey Harry!" McGuire yelled. "Kirke and I came up with this plan not too long ago and we want to know if you'd like to try it out."
"What's the plan?" Harry asked.
"Well," McGuire said, flying up next to him. "Seeing as the other teams have taken to trying to pelt you with Bludgers when you're after the Snitch, we thought we'd come up with a new move."
"Yeah," Kirke said, joining them. "We call it Seeker Whamming."
"Seeker Whamming?" Harry repeated, feeling a bit apprehensive.
"Yeah. We give the team a taste of their own medicine. Meanwhile, we've got to practice it on someone, so you can get good practice dodging Bludgers," McGuire told him.
"What do you think, Potter?" Kirke said.
"Er-I'm not quite sure I want to sink to their level," Harry said.
Both McGuire and Kirke's faces fell. "Alright, you're the captain," McGuire said. "But if they do it to you, we're going to do it to them."
"Fine," Harry muttered. Before they flew away, he added, "I am up to a little dodging practice now, though."
The two of them grinned and brandished their bats. Before either of them could even try to hit a Bludger at Harry, he dived out of the way and flew around the pitch. McGuire and Kirke followed, pelting both Bludgers at him. Harry, dodged, swerved, rolled, and even flew upside down for a moment to keep the Bludgers from hitting him.
As he looped around Ron's left goalpost he suddenly felt a sharp, burning pain in his scar yet again. This time he did cry out in pain and stopped, only to have a Bludger whiz right past his ear. He hung onto his broom and guided it down, the pain immense and terrifying.
He heard a horrible, high pitched voice in his head yell, "He must die before July," just before he hit the ground. He rolled off his broom and lay, panting, in the grass.
Ron, Ginny, and the rest of the Quidditch team all landed near him, looking frightened.
"What is it, mate?" Ron asked anxiously. "What's happened?"
"He's very angry," Harry said through clenched teeth.
Luna had joined them. "Is he having a seizure?"
"No," Ron said. "Ginny, go get Hermione or Madam Pomfrey or somebody!"
"Don't," Harry said, now taking calming, steadying breaths. "I can do this myself. I just need to relax."
"Give him some space," Ron ordered, backing away from him. "Go on, move!"
Harry pulled himself up into a sitting position, trying to empty his mind. He found that he couldn't, however. The anger he had felt and what he had heard was making him very curious and very scared at the same time. What had happened? Who was Voldemort angry at? Moreover, who had to die before July?
They were the questions that Harry kept asking himself over and over again while changing back into his school robes in the locker room. No one spoke to him, even when he walked straight past the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. He needed some time alone. He needed to think.
He found himself in walking in front of a bare stretch of wall on the seventh floor across from a gigantic tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. He glanced at it, then turned around and walked in front of it again, thinking, I need some place to sit down and think. When he reached the end of the corridor, he turned around and walked in front of it again, thinking the same thing.
After the third pass, a door appeared along the wall. Harry walked over and wrenched it open before stepping inside. Harry had seen the Room of Requirement in several different forms, but none quite like this.
The room looked like an abandoned loft, its furniture covered in moth-eaten white sheets and a thick layer of dust. Harry coughed. "This wasn't exactly what I had in mind," he said to the room.
The room, as though acknowledging what he had just said, suddenly spun around and around, although Harry's feet remained on quite solid ground. When it stopped spinning, the room had morphed into what looked like a room at the top of a tower, much like the seventh-year boys' dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, only there weren't any beds.
"Thanks," he said to the room and sat down on a windowsill. Outside he could see the Forbidden Forest as the sun set over it.
He must die before July.
Who? Who was Voldemort angry at and who had to die before July? He tried to relive the moment, tried to feel everything that Voldemort had felt. He felt angry and slightly desperate. But why would Voldemort be feeling desperation?
He felt another shot of pain run through his scar and, as though it had done it merely to answer Harry's questions, he understood.
Voldemort wanted Harry dead by the beginning of July. Furthermore, he was willing to do anything to make sure it was done.
Anything.
Harry gulped. What did that mean? What would Voldemort do? Would he try to kidnap him?
No, said Hermione's voice in his head, his voice of reason. Voldemort could not get inside these walls to take you.
But what if he could? Or what if he waited until Harry left Hogwarts at the end of June? He'd still have a week before July came.
What if…what if he tried to attack Hogwarts in order to get to Harry?
Impossible, Hermione's voice said. How could he get in? You can't Apparate or Disapparate within the grounds of Hogwarts and the place is protected by numerous wards. Besides, Voldemort is afraid of Dumbledore. He would hardly attack the place where Dumbledore lived.
Harry wasn't so sure, though. Desperate men did desperate things and if Voldemort was desperate enough…
What if he repeated what he had his Death Eaters do last year? What if they kidnapped Hermione? Or Ron? What if they killed one of them to get to him?
He shuddered. No, he told himself. Don't think about that.
But suddenly that dream he had a year prior, the dream he had right before he learned about the birth of Seth, returned to him. Ron lying, spread-eagle, on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Hermione hanging from the ceiling, an example to all Muggle-borns.
"I can't let that happen," Harry whispered to himself.
No, he'd rather die than let anything happen to Ron and especially to Hermione. If she died, he'd be nothing. There'd be no point…
He had to leave. If Voldemort wanted Harry dead sooner rather than later, then he, Harry, was not going to stand by and wait for him to come. He was not going to stand by and wait for him to do something to his friends. He was not going to stand by and wait for death.
No, Harry had said it before. He needed to take the fight to Voldemort. If he was going to die, then he was going to go down fighting, like his father. He needed to go now. He could not wait. The longer he did, the more likely it would be that Voldemort would come and attack first. He had to have the upper hand. He had to attack him before Voldemort could do something to seriously hurt him and those he cared for.
"Harry?" came a voice from the doorway, causing him to jump.
He turned and saw Hermione standing there. She had a worried expression on her face.
He opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing there and why she wasn't down at dinner, when she said, "Ron told me about your scar hurting you again at Quidditch practice. That's twice in one day, isn't it?"
"Thrice," Harry said. "It happened twice in Potions."
"So that's why you stopped shredding your fluxweed for a moment," Hermione said quietly.
Harry nodded. He went back to looking out the window.
"What's Voldemort up to?" Hermione asked. "What's frightened you?"
"I'm not frightened," Harry said. "Not precisely."
"Then what did you see that caused you to miss dinner and come up here and brood?"
Harry frowned. "I'm not brooding," he said defensively.
"Harry," she said with an exasperated sigh. "Quit stalling."
"I'm not stalling," Harry said.
Hermione raised her eyebrows in a look that greatly annoyed him. "Is that pager on you?"
He reached into his pocket and took it out. It lay still in the palm of his hand. She caught it when he tossed it at her. "There, so you can keep track of whether I'm lying or not," he said scathingly and instantly regretted his words.
She had a stung, hurt look on her face. "I never thought that you'd lie to me, Harry." She tossed the pager back.
He caught it. "Then why did you ask about it?"
"Because you seem to be a bit in denial over something," Hermione said. "What did you see?"
"Nothing," Harry said truthfully. "I only felt something."
"What?" she asked.
"More anger. Desperation, too. And…" he said, thinking back, "a little bit more of that anticipation I told you about earlier today."
"What do you think he's up to? Another attack?" she asked.
"Probably," he said, frowning.
She stared at him for a moment. "But…"
"But what?" he asked.
"You seem to be holding something back," she said.
Her ability to read him like a book was uncanny, he mused. He frowned again. "Alright. I heard something. His voice. He said, 'he must die before July.' I think he was talking about me."
Hermione paled. "July?"
"Yes," he murmured. "I think he's planning something in order to get to me."
"What?" she asked. "What do you think he's planning?"
"I don't know, really," Harry said, getting up and beginning to pace. Hermione, meanwhile, took his spot on the windowsill. "But I get the impression that he's going to come after me."
Her hands shook in her lap. "Come and get you? How? When?"
"I don't know," he said and then decided that there was no point in keeping it from her. "But I'm not to wait around here for him to attack me."
Hermione, who had been gazing down at her shaking hands, looked up at him sharply. "What?"
"I'm leaving," he said, "by dawn."
"Leaving," she repeated, her whole body shaking now. "No, Harry, no!"
"I have to," he told her. "I'm not just going to sit here and let him come. I'm not going to get paranoid and wonder if he's suddenly going to jump out from behind a suit of armor."
"But Harry, Dumbledore-"
"I don't really give a damn what Dumbledore wants," Harry said. "I have to do this."
"Harry, no-"
"I have to, Hermione," he said fiercely.
"No you don't!" Hermione cried, standing up and taking a step toward him. "You don't have to do anything! If Voldemort wants to come and attack you, let him come! He won't get past these walls!"
"He could if he really wanted to!" Harry yelled. "He'd figure out a way!"
"Even Voldemort's not powerful enough to outwit Dumbledore and the wards on this school that were placed by the four founders!" Hermione said.
"I wouldn't underestimate him! If I've learned one thing over the past seven years, it's don't underestimate your enemy, especially if he's Lord Voldemort!" Harry said, taking a step toward her. "You don't understand, Hermione! If Voldemort wants you dead then he will find a way to do it, no matter what obstacles are thrown in his path!"
"Dumbledore-"
"Dumbledore can't protect me!" Harry yelled, taking yet another step toward her. "He knows that! That's why he's got Moody and Lupin training me!"
Hermione's face, which had been turning steadily redder, suddenly went pale once again. "What?"
"Moody's been coming up to the school every other Friday and, with Lupin's help, has been giving me Auror training! I've been learning how to fight like and Auror! As for my Occlumency lessons that take place every week, half of those were devoted to lessons on what Dumbledore calls 'true sorcery,' but he's says I'm beyond him now," Harry said, not knowing exactly why he was telling her this now, but feeling relieved at the same time for getting it off his chest. "Moody's had me running at the crack of dawn every day and doing other exercises to build up my strength. I'm even better at dueling than I was before. I can take on Voldemort!"
"Why haven't you ever told Ron and me this?" Hermione asked.
"Because you didn't need to know more information that could get you hurt," Harry said. "I remember why Crow took you last year."
"We wouldn't tell anyone if we were kidnapped!" Hermione said, stepping toward him with her face getting red once again. "I'd rather die than give up information like that!"
"That's the whole point!" Harry cried, taking another step forward. "That's why I have to go!"
"If you're going then I'm going with you!" Hermione said fiercely.
"NO!" Harry bellowed. "YOU'RE NOT COMING WITH ME!"
"Why not? Why are you so hell bent on leaving me here, alone?" she asked, taking yet another step forward, her hands on her hips.
"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!" he shouted and watched as the color drained from Hermione's face. It was then that he realized that he had never told her, had never expressed those three words to her that he had heard her say so often to him. He sighed and, in a much softer voice, he said, "I love you, Hermione. I can't-I couldn't bear it if something were to happen to you. If you…if you died, so would I. I wouldn't see a point in things anymore. Everything would be meaningless to me."
There were tears falling down her face. "Harry!" she sobbed and rushed forward, enveloping him in a large embrace.
Harry hugged her to him, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but this is the way it has to be."
"No," she croaked, pushing him away from her and looking angry. "No, Harry James Potter. It's time that you understand something, because you're too thick to come to the conclusion yourself. I will never leave your side! Don't you get it? When I became your friend, I told myself that I'd stick by you to the end, no matter what. Even if I die." She clasped his hand with hers and held them up. "I'm always going to be here for you, Harry, whether you want me to or not. This is my oath, my promise, my vow. I will always be your friend. You can't push me away. I won't let you."
Suddenly, something very odd happened. A golden light began to emanate from their clasped hands. Harry stared down at it and then back up at Hermione, who was looking at him with a determined look in her eyes. The light spread up their arms and began to cover their whole bodies. It seemed to join them together and made Harry feel as though they were one. Then, as fast as it came, it left, leaving Harry bewildered.
"What just happened?" he asked.
Hermione was smiling. "Old magic. I read about it several months ago."
"What did it do?"
"It just bonded us," she said.
"Bonded? What d'you mean?"
"I mean that we now share a bond of friendship that cannot be broken. In other words, no one can split us apart," she told him.
"Oh," he said, not quite sure how to feel about it. "Okay. Didn't we have that before?"
"We're friends, yes, and there is a certain bond that friends develop, like the brotherly sort of bond you and Ron share, but this bond is magical. Basically, it means that I'll always be there when you need me, that I'll always stand by your side," Hermione told him. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me."
He laughed. "I don't mind that. I don't mind it one bit." He grinned at her. "Just one question though: does this bond only apply to friendship? Are we not allowed to be-er-more than friends?"
This time, she laughed as she stepped forward and kissed him soundly on the lips. "Friendship is the base of any good romantic relationship. Being 'more than friends' doesn't mean that we stop being friends. It just means we've added a little something…extra into the mix," she said with a gleam in her eye.
"So I can continue to be your boyfriend and-" He cleared his throat. "-other things?"
She raised her eyebrow at his suggestion. "Yes, although are we ready for the 'other things?'"
He leaned forward and kissed her gently. "Maybe," he whispered against her lips and then leaned back. "Are you?"
She bit her bottom lip. "Honestly, Harry, no. I mean, we may have been friends for ages, but we've been together for under a year and we're only seventeen and-"
"It's okay," Harry said. "We don't-there's no need to-I can wait. It's for the best, actually."
She let out the breath she had been holding. "Really?"
He nodded. "Really."
She hugged him. "You're still not thinking about leaving, are you?"
He frowned. "No. I'll stay. I just hope that nothing bad happens because of it."
She kissed him again. "Thank you." She looked around the room. "We should probably get back to the common room."
"Yeah," he agreed. As she walked toward the door, he said, "Wait."
She turned back. "Yes?"
He fidgeted. Now that she knew about his training with Moody and Lupin, he thought it would be best if he came clean-about everything.
"As my girlfriend," he said, "you have a right to know absolutely everything about me, even the stuff I've kept hidden from you and Ron since first year. I don't want there to be any secrets between us, so I want to share with you all of mine."
She crossed back over to the windowsill and sat down, where he joined her. He took her hands in his.
"Like I told you, Moody and Lupin have been giving me Auror training. I imagine the stuff they're having me do is basic stuff that the Aurors do in their first year of training or whatever, so I'll still have two years worth of stuff to learn after this.
"But there's more. Last year on the train coming to Hogwarts, when Malfoy and I got into that scuffle, something happened. I was able to perform magic without a wand."
"Witches and wizards can do that, though," Hermione said. "When they're angry or scared they can do all sorts of odd things. Didn't you blow up your aunt because you were angry with her?"
"Yeah, but this is different. Witches and wizards can't control that. It happens when they're, as you said, angry or scared. I, however, can." He held out his hand toward a quill pen that just appeared on the floor. "Accio pen!" The quill pen flew right to his outstretched hand. Then he laid it flat on his palm and murmured, "Wingardium Leviosa." Slowly, the quill rose until it was parallel to Hermione's astonished eyes. Then, with a snap of his fingers, Harry said, "Incendio," and the quill burst into flames.
"Harry, that's-that's-"
"I know," he said. "Dumbledore calls it 'true sorcery.' He can do it, too. Not too long ago, I tried to perform the Patronus Charm and was able to produce…something. Dumbledore said it was more than what he could even do and said that it was pretty pointless for him to continue teaching me."
"Does that mean that you're more powerful than he is?" Hermione asked.
"I don't think so. I mean, he can still do loads more stuff than I can," Harry said. "He can't really explain why I have this ability."
Hermione was thinking hard, he could tell. "Harry, what if this is the 'power that he knows not?' The power that the prophecy was referring to?"
He shook his head. "I don't think so. I mean, I'm sure Voldemort's aware of true sorcery, even if he doesn't have the ability. And sure, he may not know I can do it, but he still knows of it. No, I think it's got to be something else. Something Voldemort doesn't understand and has no knowledge of."
"What could that possibly be?"
Harry was silent for a moment before he answered her. "Love."
Slowly, Hermione's eyes lit up as comprehension dawned on her. "Yes, of course. He was an orphan, wasn't he? He never felt the love of a parent and I'm sure he's never felt love for someone else. But you…your mother died to save you. It's her love that protected you from the Killing Curse!"
Harry nodded. "Yes. Dumbledore told me it was old, ancient magic, kind of like that bond thing you just did. When Voldemort was possessing Quirrell, I was able to burn him with my bare hands. Because of my mother's sacrifice-because of love-he was unable to touch me without causing excruciating pain to himself. Then, in the Ministry of Magic, when he possessed me, I was able to hurt him and drive him from me because of my love for Sirius. I-I don't know how I'm going to be able to kill him when the time comes, but I have a feeling that love's going to play a part."
Hermione did not reply, but there were tears shining in her eyes yet again.
"So," Harry went on, "I guess the only other thing left to tell you, the thing I've been keeping to myself since first year, is that…is that the Sorting Hat didn't originally want to put me in Gryffindor."
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, but Harry plunged on before she could say anything.
"It wanted to put me in Slytherin."
Her jaw dropped. "Slytherin? But you're nothing like a Slytherin!"
He gave her a hollow laugh. "Aren't I? I am all the things that Salazar Slytherin prided in his students. I'm resourceful, determined, a bit ambitious, and I have a certain disregard for the rules. I can even speak Parseltongue, just like Slytherin."
"But-"
"Do you know why I can speak Parseltongue?" he asked her.
She shook her head.
"I can because Voldemort can. He and I are a lot alike. His memory even pointed that out to me. I am a lot of things he is. I can do a lot of the things he can because when he failed to kill me, he transferred some of his power to me," Harry told her.
She sat there, horrorstruck.
"At least, that's what Dumbledore thinks," Harry finished lamely.
"But…but you're not like him at all!" Hermione said finally. "You aren't…evil."
He chuckled. "No."
"Then why, if the Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin, put you in Gryffindor?" Hermione asked.
"Why did the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor if it thought you suited Ravenclaw?" Harry said.
"Well, I suppose it saw something more in me than just books and cleverness," Hermione said.
"Didn't you tell Ron and me on the train that you much preferred Gryffindor?" Harry asked.
"Well, yes, it's true that I wanted desperately to be in Gryffindor-"
"Same here," Harry said. "The reason why I'm not in Slytherin is because I asked not to be in Slytherin, which, as Dumbledore pointed out to me, is the key difference between me and Voldemort. 'It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.' He chose to be ambitious and powerful, to suppress people through tyranny. I chose to be brave and heroic, to fight against everything he stands for. We are alike in many ways, but yes, we are very, very different."
Hermione nodded. "Yes, you are."
He gave her a small smile. "Well, that about does for all of my big secrets. I-er-guess we should get back to the common room now."
"No," she said. "You told me yours, so I should tell you my big secret." She took a deep breath. "I'm not studying to become a barrister."
He was surprised by this statement. "You're not?"
She shook her head. "No. I didn't want to tell you what I'm studying to become because I thought it might upset you."
"What?" Harry asked.
"Harry, I want to become an Unspeakable and work in the Department of Mysteries," she told him, biting her bottom lip.
He sat there, thunderstruck. "An Unspeakable? Why?"
"Because they do such interesting work!" Hermione said. "They study every part of magic, even the archaic parts of it that no one thinks about. They study time and memory and death and so much more! I became quite enthralled with what they do when we went there, even though the place holds such bad memories for you. That's why I didn't want to tell you, but I really think it's the perfect place for me."
He sat there for a moment, thinking it over. "Yeah, you're right. It is," he said with a smile. "You'd be fantastic there."
"You're-you're not mad?" she asked timidly.
He shook his head. "How could I be? If it's what you want to do then it's not like I'm going to try to stop you just because Sirius died there. Just because I thought that I had lost you there. I'm quite fine with you becoming an Unspeakable."
She hugged him again. "Oh, it's quite late now. We had better get back to the common room before curfew."
"Yeah," he said, getting up and taking her hand in his. "Let's go."
They walked out into the deserted, darkened corridor. Harry felt happier than he had in years. He had told Hermione everything. More importantly, they were now bonded for the rest of their lives.
Feeling rather reckless, Harry pulled her over to a dark corner near a suit of armor.
"Harry-"
"Shh!" he said with a grin and kissed her.
She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck as he wrapped his around her waist. He kissed her cheek and her chin before trailing his lips down her neck. She tilted her head back to give him better access. Suddenly, he heard a cackling behind him.
"Why if it isn't Head Boy Potty and Head Girl Hermy, alone, in a dark, deserted corridor, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"
Harry closed his eyes and groaned. They had been caught by Peeves.