Lies and Illusions chp. 13
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers.
Author's note: Once again, I need to apologize for a long delay in posting. Fortunately, it will be the last one for this fic because all of the chapters are now finished -- except for formatting and some minor editing.
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Chapter 13
Intruder at Grimmauld
Once again, Ginny's behavior towards Harry and Hermione changed over the next week. Gone were her furtive glances
and moody behavior. Now they could carry on a civilized conversation...unless someone brought up the information Ginny
had stumbled across. Then she would make up an excuse and disappear.
Monday was a case in point. Ginny's O.W.L. scores arrived during breakfast. For reasons known only to the Ministry, Luna's results were sent to the Burrow too.
"Come on, she'll never know that we looked at them," Ginny said, referring to Luna. "Besides, it'll cheer me up after seeing mine."
"I wouldn't count on that if I were you," Ron said, trying to grab the envelope and missing. "Ravenclaws are known for their brains after all."
"Yeah, right. If Luna's so smart, then why is she interested in you?"
Hermione, sitting in her usual place next to Harry, came to Ron's defense. "That wasn't very nice, Ginny. I'm sure that she has her reasons...whatever they are." She added the last part just loud enough to be heard. "I don't know what you're complaining about. Five O.W.L.s is about average from what I've read."
"Says the girl who aced every one of her exams," said Ginny under her breath.
"Hardly," Hermione said shyly. "I messed up on my Defense practical and it lowered my grade...stupid boggart. Anyway, being disappointed with your marks doesn't give you the right to open someone else's post without their permission."
"I'll just tell Luna that I had to wrestle it away from a parchment-eating something or other, and she'll never know the difference," Ginny said in a dismissive tone as she tore open the envelope. Her confident air soon vanished as she read Luna's scores. "Nine.... The girl is completely insane, so how the hell did she manage to get NINE BLOODY O.W.L.S?!"
Harry choked back a laugh -- unlike Ron, who fell out of his chair. Rising from her seat, Hermione snatched the parchment out of Ginny's hand. After she'd read the document, Hermione looked at Harry with the most astonished expression on her face.
Harry said quietly, "I guess you really can't judge a book by its cover."
Hermione flashed him an annoyed glare, but softened her expression when she realized that he was just teasing her. Stuffing the parchment back in its envelope Hermione asked Harry a silent question. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod, and she started to say, "Ginny, we need to.... Ginny?"
But Hermione was addressing an empty chair. Ginny had slipped away while their backs were turned.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Professor McGonagall and the board of governors were announcing the reopening of Hogwarts. Naturally it caused quite a stir in the magical community and before the day was half done, muckrakers like Rita Skeeter were already hard at work combing the sewers for people's reactions to the news. Fortunately for Harry and Hermione's peace of mind, Bill had had the foresight the month before to set up his security charms in a way that kept both the unwanted owls and obnoxious reporters at bay.
"Too bad he didn't put Percy on his 'keep away' list," Ron whispered in Harry's ear during dinner, earning a small chuckle. Percy had come by after work to drop off his mother's finally-repaired clock, and she wasn't about to let him leave without being fed first. That meant that they all had to listen to him prattle on about the Ministry.
"...Work has been busy, of course, and Hogwarts' reopening has only made it worse. The office was swarmed with owls today, people are worried about You-Know-Who mounting another attack on the school. Hopefully, the special Auror squad the Minister will be assigning tomorrow will calm everyone -"
"So," Harry interrupted, "Scrimgeour wants the Aurors to guard Hogwarts now. Just how many of them are there?"
Percy looked uncomfortable at Harry's question. "Well, I'm...ahem...not at liberty to discuss that, Harry. Be assured that rumors you may have heard about them being overworked or stretched too thin are completely unfounded. They're an invaluable deterrent to...." Percy went on for some time, but Harry had heard it all before. Excusing himself from the table, he went upstairs to think.
To be honest, Harry hadn't trusted the Ministry of Magic for a long time. How could he when they would put him on trial one year (rewriting the laws as they went) and then tried to recruit him as their poster boy the next? Lately, though, he had begun to have doubts about becoming an Auror too. Not because it was dangerous, he just didn't know if he wanted to work for such a fickle and corrupt organization.
Hermione all but laughed when Harry talked with her the next day, saying that she knew this would happen. When he teasingly asked if she'd secretly taken up Divination, Hermione answered, "No, but I know you. You wanted to become an Auror because it sounded like an exciting, noble profession. But now that you've seen how the Ministry really works, you're having second thoughts. Believe me, it happens to all of us." She paused briefly. "Perhaps it's just one of those things that simply isn't meant to be."
A wave of despair flowed over Harry that had nothing to do with their conversation. "What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked.
"Nothing, I'm just...." Hermione took one look at him and then slumped in her seat. "Oh, who am I kidding? I have about as much chance of hiding my feelings from you as you do from me." She sighed. "Did I ever tell you how Slughorn convinced me to join his club?"
Harry shook his head.
"Promise not to laugh, but he told me that he'd heard about my campaign to free the house elves and knew some people who could help. Silly me, I should have known better." Hermione pulled her knees up to her chest and said, "It's bad enough that no one takes S.P.E.W. seriously, but having that idiot use it to manipulate me for his own purposes hurts more than you can believe."
Sitting down next to her, Harry gathered Hermione in his arms. She had put so much passion and energy into S.P.E.W., weathered a sea of apathy and ridicule over it, yet she was no closer to her goal than when she started. It was no secret that her crusade to help the house elves meant a lot to her, but this was the first time Harry had seen Hermione despair over her lack of progress.
"So what are you going to do?" Harry asked her gently. "And don't say 'give up', because that's not the Hermione Granger I know and love."
Hermione smiled into the damp spot on Harry's shirt. "Perhaps, but it doesn't change anything. Why can't anyone else see how wrong it is to enslave another race, Harry?" She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. "The house elves may not be human, but they are just as intelligent and feeling as you or I. So how can anyone possibly justify treating them as nothing more than property? They can't! But instead of fixing the problem, wizards just...Harry, what are you smiling at?"
"You're beautiful when you get excited. Your eyes just light up, your cheeks get all flushed, and then there's the way your brea -- ow, that hurt." Harry rubbed his arm where she'd just whacked him.
"How many times must I tell you: No flirting while we're discussing serious matters!" Hermione gave Harry an annoyed glare. "Honestly, when did you become such a lecher? Always ogling some poor girl's body."
Grinning widely, Harry said, "Nope, only yours."
Hermione bit her lip, blushing furiously. "Good answer," she finally said. "Be sure to keep it that way, or you'll never get to explore the more interesting parts. Now, what was I saying? You distracted me again."
"You were going on about how wizards don't want to change their attitudes towards other beings," Harry supplied, stroking Hermione's hair. "See, I listen."
"Of course you do. Thanks, by the way." Hermione paused to collect herself. "Tell me the truth, Harry...is it me? Am I just a bossy little know-it-all who likes telling everyone else how to live?"
Someday Harry would have to learn not to look into Hermione's eyes when she got like this. The torrent of emotions pouring through them always left him tongue-tied. Even though he moreorless understood why it happened now, that knowledge did little to counter the effect.
Eventually he stammered, "No, I think you're a very caring, perceptive girl who wants to do the right thing. It's just that you can get a bit carried away sometimes, and don't always pick the best way to go about doing things...." Harry stopped himself. In his experience, Hermione didn't take criticism very well. But that could simply be because it was Ron who was usually criticizing her.
Several uncomfortable beats passed before Hermione took a breath and said, "Maybe, but how...."
They were interrupted by Ron opening the door with one hand while levitating the boxes full of intelligence on the Death Eaters with the other. "Sorry to interrupt, Hermione, but we have work to do." He looked in Harry's direction. "Do you know how weird that sounds?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were indeed very busy that week. Thanks to the information they'd brought back from Godric's Hollow, they finally had a place to look for a Horcrux. But Grimmauld wasn't like the Potters' old house, and they couldn't afford to go there blindly.
Given his choice; Harry would just go in, check Kreacher's old den, and then leave -- with or without the Horcrux. His friends quickly vetoed that idea, however. Ron was dead set against bringing a piece of Voldemort's soul back to his home under any conditions. Hermione took a more diplomatic route: telling Harry that even if the Horcrux wasn't in the manor, that there might be other information worth gathering. Eventually they settled on a compromise: They would take only a few critical items with them but leave the rest of their stuff packed in their school trunks. Then, if they actually found Slytherin's locket, Hermione would magically transport their things to Grimmauld Place (now that she'd found the spell to do it). Otherwise, they would simply return to the Burrow to figure out their next move.
With that out of the way, and out of sheer curiosity, Harry decided to take a closer look at Gryffindor's sword. Hermione jumped at the chance to examine a piece of wizard history like this, but Ron was a little uneasy with the idea. The sword was such a part of wizard history and folklore that he felt that it was almost sacrilege (though he had never heard of the word) to question its nature.
Much to his astonishment, however, they found only a handful of enchantments on the sword: a self-honing charm that kept it razor sharp and a spell that protected it from the elements, plus the soft silver of the blade had been transfigured to be harder than tempered steel. It was a magical weapon to be sure, able to pierce dragon hide if the wielder was strong enough, but it didn't have any extraordinary powers as far as they could tell.
"I don't get it," Ron said. "Gryffindor was one of the greatest wizards ever, and people have been talking about this sword and its powers for ages. There has to be more to it than this."
Harry slowly answered, thinking out loud, "Unless it was never the sword that was special, but the people who owned it." He ran a finger over Godric's name.
"That could be," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Enchanted weapons are very rare and valuable, so I doubt if Gryffindor's descendants would have passed his sword down to just anybody. The method of selecting a new owner was probably a secret known only to his family. Naturally, some of the owners wouldn't have measured up to certain people's idea of what a 'proper' witch or wizard should be. Then, when they went on to do some great deed...."
"They rationalized their attitude by saying that the sword was somehow responsible for what they did. The story got around and grew over time...specially after Gryffindor's family was killed off and the sword disappeared," Harry finished for her.
Hermione grinned. "That's my theory, at any rate. Not that there's any way to prove it."
"Guys, have I ever told you how creepy it is when one of you finishes what the other was saying?" Ron asked blithely.
"Yes," Harry and Hermione answered together.
"Just checking."
While the trio spent their days getting ready to go Grimmauld, Harry spent his evenings reading his mother's diary. Some of the entries had interesting little bits of information like the fact that, while the house and land had been in his mother's family for generations, the garden behind his parents' home had been planted by Harry's paternal grandmother as a wedding present. Others talked about things he really couldn't care less about, like why his Aunt Petunia acted the way she did...though he did find the account of his mother's first (and only) meeting with her future brother-in-law funny. Lily had loathed Vernon on the spot -- and made a point of telling Petunia exactly what she thought of him. Needless to say, Lily wasn't invited to her sister's wedding.
But the entries that most interested Harry were the ones that told him how his parents had gotten together.
Although there were certain parallels between them, James Potter and Lily Evans had been very different people than Harry and Hermione were. Lily was far more confident and outgoing than Hermione, while James (as his friends would later say) had to get his head deflated before his future wife would say more than two words to him.
The story of how they got together started near the end of their sixth year, right after James had saved Severus Snape's worthless life. That was when James Potter had begun to act more responsibility. Not that Lily noticed at first. Even when she did, it still took James awhile to convince her that it wasn't some kind of trick...which was why she'd so vocally opposed James being named Head Boy.
He eventually succeeded, of course, and just in time for him to ask her to accompany him on the first Hogsmeade trip of their seventh year. Even after this first date (something that, oddly enough, Harry and Hermione had yet to go on), it still took over a month for James and Lily to become a serious couple. Once that happened, however, their relationship took off -- culminating with James' marriage proposal, written in the sky above the Quidditch pitch after his last match at Hogwarts that following spring.
Not all of the things Harry found in his mother's diary were as pleasant though. One entry in particular haunted him:
April 12, 1980 -- We almost lost Sirius again last night. I swear, if the man doesn't learn to stop taunting
the Death Eaters and just fight them, he's not going to live long enough to welcome his godchild into the world.
James and I have both talked to Sirius about this more times than we can count, but everything we say seems to go in
one ear and right out the other. I worry about him, though not as much as my husband. James has barely come to terms
with his parents passing away last year, and I'd hate to think about how losing Sirius would affect him.
Since he'd agreed to return to Hogwarts, Harry felt as if time was once again playing tricks on him. Whereas July
had gone by at a snail's pace, the first week of August seemed to fly. They had to get a move on if they were to
have any chance of finding Slytherin's locket before the start of school. And if they needed a reminder of how much
they needed to find the Horcruxes, the Daily Prophet reported a string of dementor attacks just east of Stirling that
week, right on the rail line used by the Hogwarts Express, according to Hermione. Clearly, the lull they had been
enjoying in the war was coming to an end.
**********
Ten days after their trip to Godric's Hollow, Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves standing outside the battered door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Unfortunately, it hadn't changed very much from the first time Harry had seen it. It was still just as dark and gloomy as ever.
The three of them approached the house carefully -- far more carefully than they had the Potters' house. Even when it served as the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, Grimmauld had been filled with all kinds of nasty surprises. Now that it had been abandoned again, there was no telling what would be found inside. A quick check of the house showed that most of the protections were still working. The only exception was the Fidelius Charm that Dumbledore had placed on it -- which, while still there, appeared to be inactive at this time.
It was a hard thing for Harry to come back here, far harder than visiting Godric's Hollow. Although he loved his parents, Harry had so few memories of them that it was hard for him to truly miss them. But Sirius was different. Once, Harry had seen his godfather as the answer to his prayers -- someone who would give him a real home and fill the hole in his life left by his parents' deaths. That dream had been put on indefinite hold when Wormtail escaped, and then crushed forever in the Department of Mysteries.
Since his godfather's death, Harry had told himself over and over that Sirius wouldn't have wanted him to grieve over his passing. Now, standing on the walk outside the Blacks' ancestral home, those words rang hollow in Harry's heart. In their place came the words Hermione had said to him last week, "Sirius was your godfather and you loved him, that gives you every right to mourn his passing." If only it were that easy....
Summoning up his nerve, Harry stepped up to the battered front door and tapped it with his wand. Technically, the house still belonged to him (even though Harry had given it to Dumbledore to serve as the Order's headquarters) but it seemed to resist letting him in. When he tried casting an Alohomora charm on the door, the lock gave way with a reluctant click at first, only to quickly lock itself again. Harry exchanged a glance with his friends and tried again -- leaning his weight against the door so it wouldn't have time to re-lock itself. It almost worked, with the door getting jammed half-open. Ron came to Harry's assistance by kicking the door open the rest of the way. Unfortunately, the noise woke something up.
"Filth! Mongrels! How dare you intrude on our -"
Flicking his wand, Harry closed the moth-eaten curtains over the portrait of Sirius' mother. Still hearing her muffled voice, he cast a silencing charm on them for good measure. Somewhere in the house, they heard a chair fall over.
Ron looked around nervously. "Guys, I have a really bad feeling about this."
"You're not the only one," Harry replied, feeling an unpleasant tingling on his wrist. Flipping his watch open, he examined the portable Foe-Glass. For the first time since he'd received it, there was a distinct figure in the magical mirror. It wasn't clear enough to recognize, but someone unfriendly was way too close for comfort. The three hands with their names on them were now pointing to the eleven o'clock position, which was marked "Imminent Danger".
Switching to his take charge voice, Harry told his friends, "Wands out, stay alert, and don't wander off until we're sure the house is safe. Well...as safe as it gets."
The three of them cautiously started to search the house -- Harry first, with Hermione in the middle (so she was close to either of her friends if anything happened), and Ron bringing up the rear. As they moved, Harry kept an eye on the Foe-Glass: using the sharpness of the image to tell when they were getting closer to their quarry.
There was something very wrong about the house, and not just the fact that it still reeked of the Dark Arts. Grimmauld was supposed to be deserted, but Harry wasn't so sure about that. The simple fact that he had to practically break down the front door was enough to make him suspicious. It might be nothing...Mundungus Fletcher might be using the place to hide his stolen goods again...but when combined with Harry's earlier trepidation about coming there, it was making him jumpy.
As a precaution, Hermione quietly sealed the front and back doors with the Colloportus spell before they went down to the basement. Entering the kitchen, they found the source of the noise they'd heard. An overturned chair next to the table, next to a half-eaten sandwich and glass of juice.
With a series of hand gestures, Harry told Hermione and Ron to cover him. Her eyes scanning the room, Hermione mouthed, "Do you feel that?" Harry nodded back. There was a presence in the room, and they were getting close to it. Looking at the Foe-Glass made him do a double-take, for the person in it was now recognizable.
"That son-of-a...," he gasped.
Reaching for the pantry door, Harry was hit in the face by it when a hooded figure burst out. Dazed by the sudden assault, Harry barely registered that the intruder was running at Hermione. Her shield coat easily blocked the curse he cast, but did nothing to stop the wizard from physically knocking her out of his way. Ron moved to block the fugitive's escape, but wasn't fast enough to prevent him from disappearing up the narrow staircase.
"Hermione, are you all right?" Harry asked worriedly as he helped her up.
She gave him a weak smile, rubbing her butt. "Nothing hurt except my pride."
"Hurry up you two," Ron yelled. "He's getting away!"
The trio ran back up the stairs in hot pursuit. It didn't take long for their quarry to come into view again, now trying to force the front door open. Alerted by their footsteps, he quickly darted into another room.
"Follow him!" Harry ordered, stopping just long enough to pull his invisiblity cloak out of his backpack. "I'll go around back and cut the bastard off."
Though Ron had longer legs, Harry was the fastest runner of the trio. It took him only a few seconds to run through the house and put himself between the dark figure and the back door.
Hearing the racket of flying spells and running feet quickly coming in his direction, Harry threw on the cloak and positioned himself to block the exit. A few minutes passed before his target suddenly burst into view, franticly dodging Ron and Hermione's spells. Spinning away from the battle, the wizard promptly ran face-first into Harry's Impediment Jinx. Hermione appeared a second later and subdued the intruder with a stunning spell.
Cautiously approaching the crumpled heap on the the floor, Harry kicked his uninvited guest's wand over to Ron. Satisfied that the threat was neutralized, Harry rolled the figure onto his back and pulled off the hood -- revealing the pale, bloodied face of Draco Malfoy.
Of all the.... The very thought of Malfoy defiling Sirius' home was enough to make Harry see red. All thoughts of wands and magic left his mind as he drew back a fist.
Draco would never appreciate how lucky he was that Ron and Hermione were there. They were the only ones who could stop Harry from beating the crap out of their long-time enemy. Until they got some answers, that is.
**********
"Ennervate!"
Malfoy immediately came to life, struggling against his bonds.
"Forget it, Malfoy," Harry said coldly. "The ropes are magical, and the chair is unbreakable and quite firmly attached to the floor."
"Potter! What the hell are you doing here, and how the fuck did you get in?" Malfoy spat back.
With a humorless smile, Harry replied, "Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing. What are you doing in my house?"
"Your house? For your information, this place has been in my mother's family for -"
Harry cut him off. "I know all about your mother's family, Malfoy. There isn't a single decent witch or wizard in the lot that they didn't disown. Again: Why are you here?"
"Piss off!"
Harry and Ron each took an angry step toward Malfoy.
"Stop it, you two." Hermione grasped Harry's shoulder, stepping between the three boys. "This is getting us nowhere. Now, Malfoy, you'd better start answering our questions. Otherwise we'll just ship you off to the Ministry and let them take care of you."
Malfoy answered her with a snort. "If that's supposed to be a threat, Granger, you'll have to do a lot better. I've got real wizards chasing after me, and not those pathetic Aurors," he finished under his breath.
Though he probably was meant to hear it, that last statement stuck in Harry's mind. Beneath all his bravado, Malfoy was scared out of his mind, and Harry was sure that being caught by him and friends had nothing to do with it. Looking over at Hermione, he saw that she was having similar thoughts.
"So," Hermione carefully said to Malfoy, "you're on the run, and not just from the Ministry. Now why would you be doing that?"
Ron chimed in, "He probably didn't kiss Voldemort's arse to his satisfaction." Malfoy flinched at the name. "Maybe we should ask why old Draco here didn't just go crying home to his mummy. Course, his auntie Bellatrix would've been disappoint-"
"SHUT UP!" Malfoy screamed. "Don't you ever mention that crazy bitch around me again!"
Silence followed Malfoy's outburst. The rage Harry and Hermione felt from him went right through the roof when Bellatrix Lestrange was mentioned. Not that Harry cared. After everything Draco Malfoy had done over the past year, Harry figured that he deserved whatever he got. More worrisome was how he'd landed up in a place where the trio had hoped to find one of Voldemort's Horcruxes.
Harry stopped pacing and leaned over his longtime enemy. "I'm tired of fencing with you, Malfoy. Now tell us how you got here, before I decide to turn you into a ferret again and feed you to one of Hagrid's hippogriffs!"
Cold grey ones stared into Harry's intense green ones, as if trying to tell whether his was a serious threat or not. The battle of wills lasted less than a minute before Draco broke.
"My mother made a portkey that brought me here. Took her forever to make it work too, some kind of spell kept stopping her from remembering where it was," Malfoy said, trying to catch his breath.
Backing away, Harry asked, "When did she do this, and why here?"
Malfoy tried to shrug, but was still restrained by the ropes. "Back in June, about a week after I left Hogwarts. I already told you why: this was her family's ancestral home...I guess she thought it would be a safe place to hide."
"Lovely...so where is your mum?" Ron asked bluntly.
Malfoy turned his head and refused to answer.
"Well? Ron asked you a question," Harry prodded, but got no response.
Feeling Hermione tug on his arm, Harry let her draw him over to a corner where they and Ron could talk.
Ron asked, "What do you think?"
"He hates our guts as much as ever, but now he hates his aunt even more. Why, I have no idea," Harry whispered back.
Hermione quietly added, "Malfoy is also very upset about his mother, there was a jolt of pain from him whenever she was mentioned."
"Really?" Harry asked her. "I didn't notice that."
"Probably because you were too busy wanting to beat his face in, Harry. Those kinds of feelings tend to get in the way of things," Hermione said patiently.
Ron raised his hands to stop her. "Is that it? I though you two could - "
"It doesn't work that way, Ron," Hermione said, waving for him to lower his voice. "The impressions we get can be very subjective, and all the animosity in this room makes it hard to sort out the nuances."
"EXCUSE ME!" Malfoy yelled from across the room. "If you're finished talking, perhaps you can let me out of here!"
Ron was the first to respond. "After what you've done? Don't make me laugh!"
"You're not going anywhere, Malfoy," Harry added as he led his friends through the door. "While you were out we got this room all ready for you."
He pointed to the other door of the room. "The bathroom's through there. Everything is unbreakable, Hermione has cast an anti-apparition charm on the room just in case the house wards wouldn't stop you, and all the exits will be magically locked once we close this door. Don't worry about food, we'll take care of that." Harry tried to smile, but it came out more like a sneer. "Enjoy your stay."
Harry loosened the ropes holding Malfoy with a casual flick of his wand. Before their prisoner could untangle himself, Ron slammed the door shut and Hermione sealed it with the Colloportus charm.
**********
The worst of his rage eventually burned itself out, leaving Harry feeling physically and emotionally exhausted. Before he could get any rest, though, he had to write a letter to Remus and Tonks so they could come and pick up Malfoy.
Somehow during his search for writing supplies, which he'd neglected to bring along, Harry had landed up in Sirius' old room. Like the rest of the house, it was a depressing place. Once-bright scarlet and gold trim (chosen by Sirius in defiance of his very pro-Slytherin family, no doubt) was now faded and dingy. Finding the things he needed, Harry wrote the short, cryptic note that was now sitting on Sirius' old desk.
Later, he didn't know how much later, Harry was awakened from his fitful dozing by a knock on the door. "Come in," he said.
Hermione entered the room with Hedwig perched on her arm, and wearing her dragon-hide gloves. The snowy owl flew over to Harry as Crookshanks scampered in behind Hermione.
Stroking his owl's feathers, and receiving an affectionate nip in return, Harry said, "I see you made it okay, Hedwig. Are you up for a trip?" Hedwig hooted and stretched her wings as he retrieved the letter. "Good. I need you to take this to Remus and Tonks as quickly as possible. Only them, no one else." The moment Harry had tied the note to her leg, Hedwig was out the window.
"That was fast," he murmured.
"What do you expect? She hasn't had much to do this summer, except for taking a couple of letters to my parents." Hermione sat next to Harry, but Crookshanks didn't jump up when she patted her lap. Instead, he sat on the floor watching her and making unpleasant sounds. "So how are you doing, Harry?"
Harry took a breath. "Fine, I guess. Though Malfoy was the last thing I expected, or wanted, to find here." Another pause. "I really did want to kill him."
"I know," Hermione said sadly. "Considering everything he did...helping the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, trying to kill Professor Dumbledore, almost killing Ron and Katie Bell in the process.... We have plenty of reasons to want to see Draco Malfoy dead. Nevertheless, I'm glad you chose not to." Hermione leaned over a placed a soft, lingering kiss on Harry's cheek. "He isn't worth it."
Hearing a feline growl at their feet, Harry looked down at his girlfriend's familiar.
"What's with Crookshanks?" he asked Hermione. "I haven't seen him act like this since we left the Dursleys."
She replied with an odd mix of pride, fear, and at least a dozen other emotions. "While you were resting, Ron and I decided to get some work done. Along with transporting our things here and finding a place to sleep, we checked Kreacher's old room. Before you get mad at us, take a look at this...." Hermione opened her gloved hand to show him the heavy gold locket they'd found. It had been months since Harry had last seen it in Dumbledore's pensieve, but he had no doubt that this was indeed the locket of Salazar Slytherin.
"You...you shouldn't have done that without me, Hermione," Harry stammered. "One of you could have gotten hurt, or worse."
Hermione clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Give me a little credit, Harry. I may not be as good at Defense Against the Dark Arts as you are, but I can still take care of myself. Besides, we all handled it before and no one got hurt." Coiling up its chain, she set the locket on the desk. "Just to be on the safe side, though, Ron is trying to conjure a box to store it in. When he's done, we'll lock it up with Malfoy's wand."
"Why is it getting so hard for me to stay mad at you?" Harry asked wearily.
"Because you love me, and have a habit of sympathizing with good people," she teased. Dropping her crooked smile, Hermione pulled something out of her pocket. "We found something else in Kreacher's den. It's magical, but doesn't look like a Black family treasure. I was wondering if you might know what it is."
Harry took the object in his hands with a sense of foreboding. It didn't look like much, just a small hand mirror, but looking at his reflection in it was enough to make Harry's hand start to shake.
"Sirius...."
For more than a year, Harry had told himself that he was over losing Sirius. Now though, that illusion was crumbling before his eyes along with the wall he'd placed around the feelings he had for his late godfather. It hurt, even more than it had right after Sirius was killed. The pain was so overwhelming that Harry couldn't even feel Hermione's presence anymore, or her soft hand on his arm.
"What is it, Harry?" He could barely hear Hermione's words, or feel the way she was shaking him. "Harry, please talk to me."
Barely able to speak, Harry whispered, "It...it belonged to Sirius. Dad and him used them at school and...and he gave me another one the last...last time we were...the last time...."
The mirror slipped out of his hands, landing face-up on the floor at Harry's feet.
"Why did he have to die, Hermione? Why was he so stupid?!" Anger started to creep into Harry's voice, along with his pain and loss. "Mum and Dad warned him, over and over, to take his fighting more seriously...why didn't he listen to them?"
Hermione didn't have an answer for him. All she could do was take Harry in her arms as he started to cry.
"I thought I was going to save him," Harry murmured. "I just wanted to save him...."
"It wasn't your fault, Harry. You did the only thing you could given what we knew at the time." One look at his face made Hermione stop herself. Even now, Harry was trying to bottle his feelings back up. Mentally cursing the Dursleys for the hundredth time, she drew Harry closer and let him rest his head on her shoulder. Trying to keep her own tears from falling, Hermione softly whispered, "That's okay, Harry, let it out. You've carried this pain for far too long, now just let it out."
With those words, the last of Harry's barriers crumbled into dust. Everything from that night in the Ministry of Magic -- Ron being attacked by those brain-things, Sirius falling, the horrible, paralyzing feeling he felt when Hermione was hurt -- it all came pouring out. Unable to stop it, Harry sat limply in Hermione's arms and cried.
Neither Harry nor Hermione looked up when Ron barged in on them, looking rather pleased with himself. He took a flat box out from under his arm and started to say, "This should do, I thin - " Ron stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing them. Pointing at Harry, he quietly asked, "Is he okay?"
Hermione slowly shook her head.
Bowing his head, Ron said, "Right, I'll...I'll take care of this so you two can be alone." He put the Horcrux in its new case and turned to leave.
"Where do you think you're going?" Hermione asked unsteadily.
Refusing to look at her, Ron replied, "Well, you're already here and are loads better at this sort of thing than I am. I'd just get in the way."
Hermione glared at Ron through her tears. "Don't be stupid, Ron. You're like a brother to him. Yes, I'm here because I love him and he needs me...but can't you see that he needs you too?!"
After she stopped talking, Ron finally turned to look at his friends. Hermione had rested her head on top of Harry's, and was gently rocking him back and forth. Hell, Ron was willing to bet that Harry didn't even know he was there. So what difference would it make if he decided to leave instead of trying to help his friend through his grief? After all, it wasn't the sort of thing guys did for each other.
In the end, though, Ron couldn't just walk away. Instead, he set the box containing the Horcrux on Sirius' old desk and went over to the bed. Sitting down opposite Hermione, he wrapped one of his long arms around his friends. Between them sat Harry, finally grieving for Sirius Black.
**********
end chapter 13