A/N - okay, this chapter started as one thing and then grew into this great big piece of angsty fluff. I hope you will indulge me. Thank you for your reviews - I seem to have just a core of faithful readers - for which I am grateful. You all rock.
Chapter 13 - Advice
"You've got to be kidding," Harry gasped, stunned, "Horcruxes: A Guide? This has to be a joke."
"I don't think it's a joke Harry," Luna breathed, "there isn't anything in it that makes you laugh. I remember a book that I was given once that made rude noises every time you turned the page - now, that book was funny." Harry stared at Luna blankly as he tried to process what she was saying, realised it meant nothing and returned his attention to the little book now in his hands.
"There's only eleven pages…" Ron began to explain.
"You've opened it?" Hermione interrupted harshly.
"There were no protection spells," Luna replied calmly, "I checked."
"…and it's in a foreign language," Ron finished, ignoring Hermione.
"Actually, it's written in Middle English and according to the date at the beginning, it was written in 1432," Luna added helpfully.
"Middle English?" Harry asked, confused.
"English before our own," Hermione explained with a patient air, "you know, Chaucer's language."
"Who?" both Ron and Harry asked at the same time, bringing a smile to both of their faces.
"Chaucer," Hermione repeated, "Fourteenth century author? The Canterbury Tales? One of the most well known and studied pieces of English literature ever?" Both boys continued to look at her blankly so with a disgusted roll of her eyes, she turned her attention back to Luna, "are you sure? The cover definitely doesn't look that old and it's written in modern English."
"It has been re-covered," Luna replied as Harry passed Hermione the book, "and re-covered badly. The pages look like vellum and the style it is written is consistent with that time period."
Hermione didn't answer as she carefully opened the small book. Harry watched as she reverently turned each page, the subject matter momentarily forgotten as the idea that she was holding a book over five hundred and sixty years old took over.
"So, can you read it?" Harry asked after a few moments, his voice quiet.
"No," she replied before looking at Luna, "can you, Luna?"
"No…"
"But someone was trying to," Ron interrupted excitedly. He opened the large book that had been sitting on the table to reveal a hollowed out centre where, hidden amongst the defaced pages, was a Muggle book on translating Middle English. Ron removed it to show a pile of parchment underneath, filled with scribbled notes, "the Horcrux book was hidden at the bottom. Someone had been trying to translate it…"
"…but didn't finish," Luna completed for Ron, "the translator only completed the first few pages."
"It has to be Regulus," Harry thought out loud, "maybe that's how he knew to look for a Horcrux and found the locket? He had found this book in his own library and worked out what Voldemort was doing."
"That makes sense," Hermione agreed.
"So all we need to do now is translate the book and destroy the two Horcrux's we have," Ron stated triumphantly, leaning back in his chair, "then find the remaining one, get rid of that, kill the snake then presto - the great, big thorn in our side is mortal once more!"
"You make it sound so simple Ron," Harry grumbled, also leaning back in his seat.
"And what's this 'we have to translate the book' business?" Hermione scoffed, "translating a historical document is not an easy task, it takes a lot of time…"
"Okay, okay, it will probably be you and Luna doing the translating," Ron conceded, "but you're both brilliant when it comes to things like this, it won't take that long…"
"Have you tried to learn a new language recently Ron?" Hermione quipped tersely.
"Hermione," Harry butted in before Ron could reply, "how are you doing with finding what the next Horcrux will be?"
"I've narrowed it down to five things," Hermione replied, turning her attention to Harry, "low on my list is Gryffindor's ceremonial glove that is somewhere in Wales and his shield that has been missing in the wizarding world for centuries. I think the missing Ravenclaw artefacts are more probable - a dictionary, a travelling cloak and a decorative hair comb."
"What makes you think its one of these five things?" Harry asked, interested.
"There were many things mentioned in the books at Godric's Hollow and Dowrgi about the founders," Hermione explained, the lateness of the night forgotten, "I concentrated on Gryffindor and Ravenclaw and noted anything that seemed to be of significance…"
"That would be hundreds!" Ron said incredulously.
"There were quite a few," Hermione agreed, "but many could be discarded straight away. These five items were all significant to their owners…"
"How?" Ron interrupted again, "I mean, a glove?"
"Gryffindor wore a pair of goat skin gloves at all times," Hermione explained, "they were evidently well adorned and associated distinctly to Godric. When he was killed, one glove was stolen. The importance of his shield is obvious and although it's missing, there are reports of it being in the hands of a Muggle museum - I'm trying to confirm that.
"Rowena Ravenclaw lost many of her personal items in a fire, but she saved her dictionary. Inside it is supposed to be her family tree and other significant notations - she took it everywhere. The hair comb was a family heirloom, could be worn like a crown and was the image of an eagle and her cloak…"
"…is beautiful," Luna interrupted.
"You've seen it?" Hermione asked, obviously surprised, "when? Where?"
"Yesterday, in the Ravenclaw common room," Luna replied calmly, "it's been in the common room since 1897, donated by an ex-Ravenclaw Aquilus de Bray."
"Right," Hermione said with a frown, "right, well, we can cross that off our list then…"
"I can help, if you like," Luna offered, offhandedly, "I didn't know you were looking for Ravenclaw things. I have many."
"You two can't do both," Harry stated firmly, "the translation and searching for the next Horcrux - you can't do both."
"I'm nearly done with the Horcrux…"
"No Hermione," Harry interrupted, "it's not fair to expect you to do both. Ron and I can take over the Horcrux search, you and Luna can translate the book."
"But you'll have to go back to Dowrgi," Hermione replied, her voice full of concern. Harry sighed - she knew that he didn't want to go back to his family home and was prepared to work herself into the ground so he didn't have to.
"I'll be fine," Harry tried to reassure, "I'd prefer to be uncomfortable for a little bit than having you collapse from exhaustion." They looked at each other for a moment, Harry trying to see what was going on behind her eyes.
"So we're finished with Grimmauld Place then?" Ron said rather loudly, breaking Harry away from Hermione's worried gaze, "do you want us to finish up? We only have one more section to go - should only take a week."
"How 'bout you and Luna finish there, just in case," Harry suggested, "Hermione and I go to Dowrgi, she can show me where she is up to and how we can carry on and then when you're finished, we can swap. Hermione and Luna translate the book, you and I continue the search at Dowrgi."
"Righto," Ron accepted with a smile, "though you won't be as fun to research with as Luna."
"No, I probably won't be," Harry laughed as he got up, "I'm off to bed. See you guys…" he glanced at his watch, "later today."
"I'm off too," Hermione yawned, "I was hoping to see the New Year in with mum and dad. I'll probably end up falling asleep."
Harry chuckled as he followed Hermione up the stairs, saying goodnight then making his way back to his bed. Hedwig had returned from hunting and sat on the windowsill preening - she gave a little welcoming 'hoot' as he entered. Harry just smiled back before lying down and curling up under the covers.
Another step to the puzzle is close to being completed. And Hermione had once again been concerned over his welfare. As he thought about it, Harry realised that Hermione is concerned about his welfare quite a bit - does that mean she fancies him? Or is it just because he gets himself into trouble a lot and she is just being a good friend? Harry's eyes began to get heavier as the debate in his head continued, but even his internal dialogue couldn't keep him awake and within moments he was fast asleep.
It was mid morning when he finally woke, Ron still snoring away in the other bed. With a grin, Harry got ready and made his way to the common area. Hermione was already there on the couch, Crookshanks in her lap and a book in her hand - it was such a familiar sight that it felt like home.
"Morning," he called out as he made his way to her, "guess I've missed breakfast."
"Morning Harry," Hermione replied, putting her book down, "yes, we all did. I was waiting for you to see if you can get Dobby to get something to eat."
"You know, he'd get some food for you without me around," he informed her, collapsing in his favourite chair, "you are his 'Miss Hermy' after all."
"Don't you get in the habit of calling me that either, Mr Potter," she joked, "and I didn't want to eat on my own, so I waited for you."
"How 'bout your folks," Harry questioned, aware that Hermione really wanted to spend every spare moment with her parents, "won't they be waiting for you?"
"I asked them if I could spend the morning with you," Hermione explained, blushing slightly, "I feel that I've been neglecting you and you've spent the holiday by yourself."
"Hermione," Harry started with a smile - happily aware that once again she was concerned for him, "I know how important seeing you mum and dad has been and that you needed to get past the argument at Privet Drive. You should spend all your time with them. Besides, I haven't been on my own, I've been with Hagrid and it has been a lot of fun. So, stop worrying about me."
"I don't think I can ever stop worrying about you but thanks Harry," she said after a while, a small smile playing on her lips.
"What for?" he asked, genuinely confused.
"For understanding," was all she said.
It was New Year's Eve and as Mr and Mrs Granger was leaving the following day, their last day at Hogwarts was slightly bittersweet. Harry spent some time with them, enjoying their company and the fact that he was with Hermione was an added bonus.
That night, the castle's occupants decided to see the New Year in together, having a small party in the Great Hall with only Draco staying away. An old wireless was brought into the hall, filling it with a faint sound of music while bottles of butterbeer was available for all. Even Hedwig, Pig and Crookshanks joined in the celebration, the two owls watching from perches in the eves while the large orange cat kept himself near the table of food.
Harry could feel himself begin to tire but was determined to see the New Year in and forced himself to participate in various conversations (he, like Ron, steadily ignored the small group of dancers - Mr and Mrs Granger evidently both enjoyed to dance while Neville and Ginny carried on their Yule Ball evening).
As midnight got closer, Harry didn't know if it was a subconscious thing or whether it was just that when in the same room with her, he always gravitated towards Hermione. Whatever the reason, she was right next to him as the school's clock matched Big Ben on the wireless and chimed in the New Year. Every one cheered and kissed their neighbour. With a shy smile, he turned to her.
"Happy New Year Hermione," he said quietly.
"Happy New Year Harry," she repeated just as quietly as she gathered him into a hug and gently kissed him on the cheek. He found himself doing the same to her, begrudgingly letting her go so she could go to her parents.
Harry's eyes followed her for a moment before he looked around the hall. Ron and Luna were in a deep kiss on the outskirts of the small party and not far from them was a more surprising sight - Neville and Ginny were also kissing, tentatively but kissing none the less. Harry smiled sadly and suddenly felt very alone.
Hagrid and a few of the other teachers wished him a happy New Year as he began to make his way out of the hall, the feel of Hermione's hug and kiss keeping away any deeper thoughts of sadness.
"Harry!" Harry stopped to see Mr Granger making his way towards him, Hermione watching with concern from her spot next to her mother.
"Happy New Year Mr Granger," Harry said, shaking the other man's hand fondly.
"Happy New Year to you too, Harry," Mr Granger replied as he draped his arm over Harry's shoulders and guided him to an empty part of the hall, "I just wanted to have a quick word before we leave tomor…oops, I mean today. It seems the two women in my life feel I said some things that were unnecessary the last time we met and I tend to agree with them…"
"I don't understand sir," Harry replied, confused.
"At your uncle and aunts place during the summer," Mr Granger explained to which Harry nodded - he had been thinking about earlier that day…yesterday, "I said some things that were unfair and it seems, completely wrong. I apologise."
"There is no need to apologise Mr Granger," Harry said earnestly, "you were protecting your daughter and I am…dangerous. But I meant what I said, I will do everything I can to keep her safe."
"I know that Harry," the older man stated, pausing as he looked Harry directly in the eye, "the last few days have been precious for us, with Hermione. Our little girl has definitely grown up and we can now see why she loves this place, how Hogwarts has replaced us, taken her away almost. And we've actually talked, which has been quite rare lately. The subject of you kept coming up quite a bit."
"Me?" Harry repeated, his heart beginning to beat rapidly as a million thoughts of why Hermione had been talking about him to her parents rushed through his brain.
"Yes, you," Mr Granger grinned before sobering quickly, "Harry, what are your feelings towards Hermione?"
"Feelings?" Harry stammered, "I…I'm not sure…"
"I understand this is awkward," Mr Granger continued, his voice kind, "but, well, I've been noticing how you look at her and how she is obviously as important to you as you are to her. You haven't had much help with working out women, and believe me all men need help working out women, so I was wondering if you'd take some advice. Man to man."
"Advice?" Harry stammered once more, aware he was sounding like an idiot.
"If you like her Harry, you need to tell her."
Harry looked at Mr Granger with a frown. He had wanted so desperately to talk to another male about what he was feeling - but Hermione's father? He hadn't talked to Ron because he felt that would be a bit strange - it would be stranger to discuss these new feelings with the father of the girl who was causing these feelings. What should he do?
He glanced over at Hermione who was now in deep conversation with Ron, the two of them on their own talking about something quite intensely. His mind then flittered back to the kiss, the hugs, the concern, holding her hand, how pretty she is…
"I…I don't know," Harry stuttered, shrugging his shoulders and looking back at Mr Granger, "it's just that…we've been friends for so long, I don't know if what I'm feeling…it's all…what if she doesn't feel the same way back?"
"What if she does," was the answer - Harry's heart beat just that little bit faster.
"She likes me?" he asked, suddenly very scared.
"Harry, she's been by your side for over six years," Mr Granger said, "she respects you, she understands you, but most importantly, she's your best friend and you hers. And, she also thinks you're rather handsome."
"She does?"
"Yes, she does," Mr Granger laughed, "you're a man of few words Mr Potter."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because," the older man paused thoughtfully, "because I want my daughter to be happy and I can see that you make her happy. I know she'd kill me if she knew I was saying this to you, though I think from the stares we've been getting she's going to kill me anyway, but you've got no-one to tell you this stuff Harry.," he paused again before grinning mischievously, "so, are you going to tell my daughter you like her?"
Will he? It took him ages before he told Ginny and regretted it later - they had only weeks together when they could've had months, years even. Will the same happen now, if he withholds his feelings from Hermione - will he regret it later? And now, since knowing that she in fact does like him, why hasn't he gone to her, taken her in his arms and given her the kiss he's been dreaming about for the last few months? Why is he so scared to take the next step? With a sinking heart, he knew why.
"She deserves more than me, Mr Granger," he said finally, "I have nothing to offer her, nothing…good. Until it's over, until Voldemort is gone I can't give her…"
"You can give her your love, Harry," Mr Granger said softly, "that's all she wants."
Harry looked at him in shock - love? Love? Nothing was ever mentioned about love! He fancied Hermione, even Harry couldn't deny that now, but love her? What did that mean? And to add to his horror, she - Hermione - was walking over to where he was standing, Ron at her heels, right now. Harry frantically tried to compose himself.
"Hey daddy, Harry," Hermione smiled cheerfully, quickly snuggling into her father's embrace and looking at Harry with a worried frown, "you two have been over here chatting for a while - is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine pumpkin," Mr Granger replied, just as cheerfully, "Harry and I were just talking bloke stuff, weren't we Harry?"
"Er, yes," Harry managed to stammer out, "your…your dad was apologising for what he said at the Dursleys." Hermione's frown deepened.
"That's good," she answered, her eyes never leaving Harry, who squirmed slightly under her scrutiny, "are you okay Harry? You look rather flushed." Harry ignored the very audible snicker from Ron and looked nervously between Hermione and her father.
"I'm a bit tired, I guess," he lied, feeling very much awake, "I think I'll make a move. Good to see you again Mr Granger…"
"Think about what I said Harry," Mr Granger interrupted with a smile, extending his hand in farewell.
"I…I will," Harry replied, giving the customary handshake, "thanks. Happy New Year."
With a parting smile (ignoring the continued look of concern on Hermione's face), Harry left the Great Hall with his mind in turmoil. Part of him wanted to be with her, to give it a go, but another part was too scared; afraid it would ruin something already great as well as afraid that Voldemort would destroy Hermione to destroy him. But she was already a target. She was already in danger just by knowing him. What difference would it make…
"So, Harry, what did you really talk about?" Ron's voice was close in his ear, making Harry jump, totally oblivious that Ron had even been there.
"Nothing," Harry mumbled.
"Nothing?" Ron replied, non-believing, "yeah, right. You and Hermione's dad were at it for ages. Do you want to hear what I think you two were talking about?"
"Aren't you meant to be off snogging Luna somewhere?"
"She went to bed," Ron continued, ignoring Harry's snide tone and easily keeping up with Harry's steady pace, "I think you and Mr G was talking about Hermione…"
"Well deduced Sherlock…"
"Who?"
"Of course we were talking about Hermione," Harry sighed, "I was with her father…"
"Ah, but what was the subject matter?" Ron grinned, stopping when Harry did.
"He thinks I like her." Harry uttered dejectedly, then watched in surprise as Ron's grin grew into a hearty laugh, "what's so funny?" he asked, slightly annoyed.
"You," Ron chuckled, "and her, actually. You're both pathetic."
"What? Why?"
"Because you like her, she likes you and you both aren't willing to make the next move, that's why," Ron answered. They both started to walk again, reaching the Head's common room quickly. Harry's mind was full of the events of the day so was silent as he walked up the steps to the dorm. Ron, however, wasn't, "why don't you give it a chance Harry? Why don't you…"
"Shut up Ron," Harry grumbled, sitting heavily down on his bed, disturbing Crookshanks who was curled comfortably up on it. Hedwig was there too, sitting on the headboard, one eye opening up at him as he sat.
"What are you so scared of Harry?" Ron asked, sitting on his own bed, suddenly serious. Harry thought about the question and sighed deeply when he thought of the answer - there were so many things.
"What if something happened?" he said after a few moments, his voice soft, "what if we give it a go, everything goes really well and then I loose her? What if I finally let myself be happy with someone and she's taken away? Because of me."
"Which is why you broke up with Ginny, right?"
"This is different though," Harry continued sadly, absently patting a purring Crookshanks, "something happened within me last year, every time I saw Ginny, like an explosion or something - getting my attention on how pretty she was. But that was it. It never occurred to me to tell her about the Horcruxes or the prophecy or anything outside her and me..."
"It was superficial," Ron said with a slight nod of understanding, "like what I had with Lavender."
"Right, superficial," Harry agreed, "and when we got together, when we were together, it wasn't me with her. It was someone else, someone with a normal life. She helped forget what a disaster the rest of my life was.
"With Hermione, it's different. She's my best friend, she knows me better than I know myself. When I'm with her, it's still me - Harry Potter, the boy with all this rubbish, with this death mark over me. I don't have to hide, I can't hide from her.
"But I have a job to do Ron, I have a madman wanting to kill me and everyone who knows me and won't stop until either him or I am dead. I know she is already part of that, that she is already in danger but if we start something, if I begin to let all this stuff that I've been thinking of, dreaming of, become a reality then I would just walk away from what I have to do to be with her and Voldemort would win."
"Harry, do you honestly think that Hermione would let you loose sight of your goal?" Ron asked seriously, "do you think she would suddenly become a flighty, love struck girly-girl that gives in to everything you say? She has fancied you for so long and has managed to keep you on track - I can't see that changing."
"How do you know she's fancied me for a long time?" Harry questioned.
"Because she told me," Ron replied quickly, "because you are the reason we never happened, because when I actually sat back and thought about it, then watched you two together I can see it, can see how you two are just right for each other. And so can everyone else."
Silence.
"Sorry about you and Hermione," Harry sighed after a few moments, "I know how much you liked her."
"Don't be," Ron came back, grinning, "if she hadn't had said anything, I would never have found Luna who is more perfect for me than Hermione could ever be. Look, Harry, keeping this away from her, pretending that these feelings don't exist - it can't be healthy."
"I'll cope."
"You're not going to tell her, are you?"
"I'm not going to tell her Ron, I can't."
Ron didn't reply and instead got his night things and made his way to the bathroom. Crookshanks suddenly sat upright and darted to the door - Hermione must be back. Sighing once more, Harry lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. Hermione liked him. Hermione had liked him for ages and he had been too blind or too stupid to see it. He had always thought she fancied Ron, that they would get together - but he had been wrong.
Harry heard Ron return and get into bed but Harry was still very much awake.
"Ron?"
"Yeah Harry."
"Have…have you and Luna really been talking about getting married?"
"Yeah, we have." Harry sat up and looked at his friend.
"Really?"
"Yep."
"But you and Luna…you're so young! How do you know she's the one you want to spend the rest of your life with?" Ron thought about the question for a moment before speaking, his brow furrowed deep in concentration.
"We had joked about it, joked about our wedding, where we would live, how many kids we wanted," he finally said with a chuckle, "I wanted two, she wanted seven. It wasn't serious, at least not for me.
"But after the thing in the cellar, after nearly dying, I realised how important she was to me, how I wanted to live because I wanted to see our seven kids running around our back garden. You and Hermione, you're important, you always will be but when I was lying there, waiting for Remus, you were the furthest from my mind. All I wanted to do was see Luna. So now when we talk about marriage, it's no longer a joke."
"You seem pretty happy," Harry said wistfully.
"That's because we are," Ron replied, "and you could be too, Harry, if you just let yourself…"
"No."
"Dumbledore said the greatest power, the thing that you have that Voldemort doesn't is love," Ron continued, "maybe if…"
"No Ron," Harry said a bit more forcefully, "please, just let it go. Hermione deserves more than me, a relationship with me would cause nothing but pain. Until Voldemort is gone and I can live a normal life, there is no Hermione and me." To accentuate the point, Harry got off his bed and headed back down to the common room. It was blissfully empty and with his mind still whirling about, Harry sat and stared absently into the dying fire.
He didn't know when he fell asleep, but when he woke with an
unearthly crink in his neck, he was very much aware he wasn't in his bed but in his chair in the common area. A muted but late sun was shinning through the window and Hermione was sitting on the couch opposite him, reading a book.
"It finally moves," she joked as he tried to get rid of the stiffness in his seized up neck.
"What time is it?" Harry asked, yawning.
"One thirty," Hermione replied, still smiling, "you even out did Ron; he woke up two hours ago."
"Yeah, well, I had a lot on my mind…" As he said those words, Harry remembered exactly what he did have on his mind and in a slight panic, he looked at her and saw her looking curiously back.
"I hope it wasn't something my dad said," she continued, "he was acting pretty strangely…"
"No, no it was nothing your dad said," Harry lied, suddenly very interested in the book on the table, "I should go and change." As he dashed up the stairs, Harry realised how difficult this was going to be but the knowledge it was for the best, the best thing for Hermione, made him more determined than ever to make sure he carried on like nothing was different.
Which he thought he did pretty well - considering. Spending a week with her at Dowrgi felt so natural that they fell easily into a routine which was relaxed and…happy - Harry had almost forgotten the discussions of New Years. As the week began to draw to a close, he actually felt things were back to normal, that he could easily pretend she was nothing more than a good friend.
They had decided to have lunch by the river, eating the sandwiches that the kitchen had made for them while huddled up against the cool breeze that made a liar of the bright sunshine which was meant to bring heat. It was Sunday; tomorrow was back to classes and Ron would be the one to join Harry at the next trip to the estate.
So Harry was content just to sit with Hermione and enjoy being in her company, unaware that in moments it would all go horribly wrong.
"Harry, can I ask you something?"
That should've been Harry's first clue - Hermione sounded nervous, and when he looked at her, she kept her eyes downcast, staring at her sandwich.
"Er, sure Hermione," he replied, totally oblivious of what was about to happen.
"It's just that, well, you've been acting pretty strangely lately," she began hesitantly, "and, um, I was wondering if it's because, er, um…" Harry's heart plummeted, he knew what was coming - she continued, "if it was because you fancy me. You know, more than just a friend." Her last words came out in a rush as she shot Harry a nervous glance before looking back down at her sandwich.
Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath and with a voice that sounded nothing like his own, he spoke.
"I guess I'm acting a bit weird because of everything that's going on, not because I fancy you," he said softly, "you've been my friend for so long Hermione, I don't think I could think of you as anything more than just a friend."
He opened his eyes in time to see her look at him, hurt and embarrassed, making him cringe inside. She quickly tried to hide the pain on her face but in an instant Harry knew what he had done - he had hurt Hermione.
"Oh, right," she managed to say as she stood up, "of course, just friends. Well, um, I need to get back to Hogwarts. I'll…I'll see you around Harry."
Harry watched her go with a sadness he hadn't felt in a long while. He had just pushed away the one thing in his life that was good, done the one thing he had vowed that he'd never do - that he'd never let anyone else do - that was to hurt Hermione. Leaving the rest of his sandwich for the birds, he dejectedly made his way back to the library.
Hermione had gone and had taken with her the warmth and familiarity the library had had. Sighing, he sat at the desk and tried to concentrate on the timeline of the whereabouts of Godric Gryffindor's glove but the image of Hermione's face kept crossing his mind.
"Mr Potter?" At the sound of his name, Harry turned from the desk and looked around the empty room, "Mr Potter, are you there?"
Recognising his transfiguration teacher's voice, Harry made his way to the fire place and saw the floating green head of Professor McGonagall looking at him.
"Hello Professor," he said, "is everything alright?"
"Yes, yes, everything is fine," she bustled, "could you come to my office when you return to Hogwarts? We'd like a word."
"I can be there in a few minutes if you like, I'm finished here," Harry replied feeling even more miserable - why would the headmistress want to see him?
"Thank you. Just Floo when you're ready." And in a puff of green smoke, she was gone. It was only a few moments later when Harry stepped into the familiar office of the headmistress, who looked up at him on his arrival, got up and made her way to the door.
"I'll leave you two to it then," she said, sounding slightly disgruntled before going and shutting the door firmly behind her. Confused, Harry stood by the fireplace and looked around the empty room, momentarily forgetting he wasn't really alone.
"Hello Harry," said a very familiar voice, "thank you for coming." Harry turned and looked at the portrait on the wall - Albus Dumbledore looking back at him.
"Hello Professor," he sighed as he made his way closer to the portrait, "it's been a while."
"Yes, it has," the image replied, "but I understand you've been busy. Harry…are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Harry half-heartily tried to reassure, "it's just been a bad day."
"Anything I can help you with?"
"No, no not really," Harry muttered, "you wanted to see me?"
"Minerva tells me you have narrowed the search down for the fifth Horcrux…"
"Hermione has," Harry cut in, his voice hollow, "she thinks it one of five items."
"Which are?"
"Gryffindor's shield or glove, and Ravenclaw's hair comb, cloak or dictionary," Harry listed, waiting as the portrait thought the information over.
"The cloak is here at the school," Albus stated thoughtfully, "I think you can disregard that. I would've thought Miss Lovegood would have mentioned the presence of the cloak in her common room."
"She did," Harry sighed, "I forgot. Hermione had done all this research thinking that Ron had told Luna about what we were looking for when he told her about the Horcruxes and since Luna never said anything, we didn't realise that there were any relics here. When Luna did tell us, it got crossed off our list."
"Good-o," beamed Dumbledore, "right, what else. I recall Godric's shield being at the National Welsh Museum in Cardiff and has been for many years but his glove? I had forgotten one had gone missing…"
"Hermione thinks it's somewhere in Wales."
"Well, Miss Granger is probably right," Dumbledore agreed, "Godric was Welsh and spent a lot of time in his home land. But I don't think Voldemort would consider using a glove for the purpose of a Horcrux, it just doesn't seem an item he would consider worthy enough."
"Which leaves Ravenclaw's hair comb and dictionary," Harry continued.
"Yes, yes it does," the portrait said thoughtfully, "the dictionary was something I had considered myself. I seem to recall holding a memory that has some information about it…"
"I'll have a look," Harry mumbled.
"Harry, are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine professor."
But Harry felt anything but fine as he left the old headmaster's office and made his way to the Head's room. Taking a deep breath before entering, he got ready to carry on the lie if Hermione was there - but she wasn't, and neither was Ron.
With a sigh of relief, he went upstairs into the dorm and retrieved the small trunk that still housed his inheritance from Dumbledore. He got out the pensieve and placed it on the bed, then began looking through the glass bottles for the one that may have the memories relating to the dictionary.
Instead, his hand hovered over a bottle that was labelled 'First Meeting with Harry'. With a force that seemed out of his control, Harry tipped the memory into the small pensieve, and without a second thought, bent towards the silvery liquid and found himself falling…
…onto the pathway leading up to Godric's Hollow. Dumbledore was there looking much the same as the man Harry knew, carrying a larger bunch of wild flowers and a teddy bear that he recognised as the one in he had found on his cot. The wizard made his way to the door and knocked - where it was opened by James Potter.
"Albus, welcome."
"Thank you James," Dumbledore said warmly, "how is the new family?"
"Come and see for yourself," James grinned proudly, "they're in the living room."
Harry followed the professor into the hallway and into the lounge where he saw his mother in the rocking chair by the window, a bundle of blankets in her arms that Harry knew was himself as a baby.
"Hello Lily," Dumbledore whispered and he made his way to the new mother, "and hello little Harry." The present day Harry watched in wonder as his old headmaster began to coo over the baby, a softness that he had never seen before oozing out every pore, "he's a beautiful child."
"Thank you professor," Lily replied quietly, her eyes never leaving her child. She looked so content and peaceful that Harry felt a lump form in his throat.
"Your mother hasn't got pass the fact that I'm no longer her teacher, Harry," Dumbledore stated to baby Harry, "I hope your presence will remind her, she is no longer in Hogwarts."
"Ah, you can take the girl out of Hogwarts," Lily laughed, "but you can't take Hogwarts out of the girl."
"So, is there any news Albus," James asked as he re-entered the living room, bringing with him a vase for the bunch of flowers.
"Yes, I'm afraid so James," Dumbledore replied, his tone suddenly sombre, "but today is a day of peace. You have a son, a handsome little boy who shouldn't hear of life's harshness when he is only a day old. We can discuss the war tomorrow."
"Poor guy has my hair," James said after a while, "but luckily he has his mother's eyes. He's gonna knock 'em dead when he hits Hogwarts. Sirius's reputation with the ladies will be secondary to my son's."
"Our son will respect women James Potter," Lily gently scolded, running a finger down baby Harry's sleeping face, "he'll fall for a woman with brains and integrity…"
"Just like his dad."
When Harry watched his parent share a smile, he couldn't take it any more. He exited the pensieve with the knowledge that the love his parents had for each other was…magical. He could've had something like that, but he turned it away. He was alone.
Suddenly, the dorms door flung open and a very angry Ron stood in the doorway, his eyes blazing when he saw Harry sitting on his bed.
"Why the bloody hell did you do it?" Ron hissed menacingly.
"Because I have a job to do," Harry replied sadly, "because it's for the best."
"You're a stupid prat, you know that?" And without waiting for an answer, Ron turned on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him. Harry looked at the shut door for a moment before placing his head in his hands and willing the day to finally end.