Chapter 2: Back to Grimwauld Place
"Well…" Harry thought hard, trying to come up with another excuse of why his friends should not come with him. He found that he could not. "Okay then," he said softly. "I guess you're coming with me."
Only seconds after he spoke these words, he pulled into a crushing hug by Hermione. "Oh, Harry," she said, slowly letting go of him.
Harry looked at the beaming faces of his two friends standing in front of him, and slowly the corners of his mouth curled up into a smile.
***
Standing in the front doorway of Grimwauld Place, Harry felt a flood of painful memories washing over him, consuming him until it was all he could think about. His chest felt tight and his breathing grew uneven as he stood there. He had not realized that returning to Grimwauld Place would be so difficult; he had not realized how unsettled he still was over Sirius's death.
He felt Hermione slip her hand into his, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance. Suddenly he was glad his friends were there; if he could not even manage walking into an empty house without them, how could he possibly manage to hunt down the Horcruxes and take down the most evil wizard of the time?
"I'm going to go upstairs and unpack," Harry said, breaking the silence that filled the front hall. He made his way to the rickety staircase, leaving his best friends alone. He did not want to stand there in the awkward silence, with his friends' worrying eyes watching him to see if he was all right.
Hermione nodded. "That's a good idea," she said, and she began to follow Harry up the stairs. "Ron, are you coming?" she asked, turning around.
"Nah," he said, shrugging. "I think I'll go in the kitchen and get something to eat."
"Ronald, you just ate at the Burrow before we left. Honestly," she exclaimed irritably. Ron didn't say anything back. Instead, he made his way to the kitchen, making sure to slam the door loudly behind him.
Upstairs, Harry sat on Sirius's bed, taking in his surroundings with a feeling of loss and regret. He yawned and lied back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. While the trio had only left the Burrow mere minutes earlier, to Harry, it seemed like several hours. Since their talk in Ron's room earlier that morning, they had had to pack and break the news to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that they were leaving, an event that did not go as well as planned…
Flashback
"Mum? Dad?" Ron asked tentatively as he entered the kitchen, closely followed by Harry and Hermione. "I- err, we need to talk to you." It was several hours after the trio's discussion in Ron's room, which had given Hermione and Ron just enough time to pack and to ensure that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be awake.
Mrs. Weasley, who had been standing at the counter preparing breakfast, turned around. "What is it?" she asked, her voice full of concern. Mr. Weasley folded up the Daily Prophet and sat up more attentively in his chair.
Ron was silent for a few moments. "Harry, Hermione, and I are leaving. We can't tell you where we're going, but Harry needs to finish up the mission that Dumbledore started, and Hermione and I are going with him," he said very quickly. His face grew redder and redder and he bit his bottom lip anxiously as he watched his parents' reactions.
Mrs. Weasley threw down the towel she had been holding. "You most certainly are not, Ronald Weasley," she exclaimed angrily. "You are seventeen years old; you haven't even graduated from Hogwarts yet!"
"Molly-" Mr. Weasley began.
"No, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said sternly. "They are just children. It is the Order's job to fight against You-Know-Who, not three Hogwarts students… I'm not going to lose another one of my children in this war," Mrs. Weasley said bitterly. "Bill almost died last month, Percy seems to be gone for good…I can't lose you too."
"But Mum," Ron said, his face still glowing red,"we are adults now. And this is the only way... Don't you see Mum? I can go back to Hogwarts and live my life later, but if I don't go with Harry, there may not be a later to go back to. There may not be a Hogwarts to go back to. This is the only way to stop You-Know-Who; I have to go."
Suddenly Mr. Weasley stood up and walked over to where Ron, Harry, and Hermione were standing. "Good luck… to all of you," he said finally, pulling his youngest son into a hug. Mrs. Weasley stood speechless.
"But Arthur-"
"Molly, I'm proud of them. They are standing up for what they believe in and not waiting around for someone else to do it for them. It is time that more people did the same, instead of sitting back and waiting. This war is not ending any time soon, and if these kids are going to take charge and lead the way, then, well… I couldn't be more proud."
"Well, of course I'm proud of them," Mrs. Weasley scoffed. "But- oh, alright. I don't like it, but I suppose I don't have a choice, do I? You three will just run off anyways, no matter what I say." She pulled the three of them into a hug. "You'll write often?" she asked, tears running down her cheeks.
"Of course, Mum," Ron replied, a smile creeping on his face.
"Then go," Mrs. Weasley said, wiping her eyes with her apron. "Go save the world."
***
"Where are you three going?" Ginny asked from the doorway, her arms crossed angrily over her chest.
"It doesn't concern you, Gin," Ron said, not even looking up at his sister as he shoved his food into a bag. "Go back to bed."
"You lot are leaving, aren't you?" she said, slowly making her way into the room. "Nice of you to invite me," she added, bitterly.
"You can't come, Ginny," Ron said, his voice growing more and more irritated.
"Harry, I can come, can't I?," Ginny asked. She walked over to Harry and took his hand in hers. "Tell Ron that I'm coming with you."
Harry sighed and pulled his hand away. "Ginny, I'm sorry, but Ron is right. You can't come with us; it's going to be too dangerous."
"Then why do Hermione and Ron get to come with you, Harry?" Ginny whined. "I thought that I've proven to you that I can fight, Harry. I handled myself at the Ministry in my fourth year, didn't I? And ask anyone about my Bat-Bogey Hex-"
"Ginny, stop it," Harry said. He felt his temper rise as he stared at the girl he had been dating only a couple of months earlier. "You don't know what you're up against."
"Then why don't you tell me?" Ginny shot back. Harry didn't respond.
Harry sighed as he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "We're leaving. I'm sorry, Ginny, but you can't come." He walked to the door, but paused as his hand clasped the doorknob. "Goodbye, Ginny," he said, softly. Not a single person in the room failed to notice the sense of finality in Harry's voice.
End flashback
A soft knock on the door interrupted Harry's thoughts. The door opened slightly, and Hermione stuck her head in the room. "Harry?" she said, her voice soft, her eyes full of concern. She sat in the chair by Harry's bed.
"How are you doing?" she asked, looking down at her hands.
"Fine," Harry answered shortly. He did not really feel like talking and he could not figure out why Hermione was in his room.
Hermione was silent for several moments. Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke. "What's going on between you and Ginny?" she asked very fast.
Whatever Harry had been thinking Hermione would say, that had not been it. Startled, it took him several moments to answer. "Oh, well, I broke up with her. At Dumbledore's funeral," he said, lacking any emotion. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed so that he was facing Hermione.
"Oh," Hermione responded. She continued to look down at her hands, avoiding the curious look Harry was giving her. "I'm sorry."
Harry shrugged. "But, the thing is, I feel as if I should be upset about it, like I should at least feel regretful. But I don't…" he trailed off. "I was a little sad at the beginning of the summer, but once I saw her again, especially after this morning, I don't feel anything. It makes me wonder if what we had was even true, you know? I mean, Ginny's a great girl, and she was fun to be around, but I don't think it went past that." Hermione nodded supportively.
Harry continued, not even knowing why he was telling Hermione all of this, but at the same time, feeling relieved to get it off his chest. "I wasn't really me when I was with Ginny; I was just a normal sixteen year old boy with no evil fate, no prophecy. And Ginny…" he paused, looking thoughtful. "I really don't think she knows what I'm up against; what she'd be up against by dating me. And to tell you the truth, I don't really want to explain it to her. Does that make any sense?"
Hermione smiled and took his hand in hers. Harry felt something flicker in his chest, but as soon as it came, it was gone. "Of course it makes sense. Ginny has fancied you since before she even met you. I think to her, you were, and still are, The-Boy-Who-Lived, the hero of her dreams."
"Yeah, that's it exactly," Harry said, cutting Hermione off. "I want to be with someone who doesn't just see me as The-Boy-Who-Lived or The Chosen One; I want someone you sees me as Harry, just plain old Harry."
Hermione chuckled. "You're anything but plain, Harry Potter," she said, squeezing his hand.
Harry laughed. "What about you and Ron?" he asked, raising his eyebrows mischievously.
Hermione burst out laughing. "You had to bring up that!" she said, still laughing. "We got together at the beginning of the summer. But then he kissed me…" she trailed off.
Harry sat silently, not knowing what to say. "Oh?" he finally managed.
"Oh, Harry," she said, still laughing. "It was like kissing my brother."
"But you fancied him, didn't you?"
"I suppose," Hermione answered. "But looking back, I really don't think so. I mean, I had waited for so long for someone to fancy me, and I suppose Ron just seemed…easier than waiting. I knew he fancied me, and I suppose for a while I fancied him back. I think I was being delusional," she added with a chuckle.
"Well, okay then," was all Harry could think of saying. He didn't know why he felt relieved that his two best friends were not dating each other; it didn't really even concern him. Yet, for some reason, at these words, Harry's mood perked up and his day seemed brighter.
***
Later that evening, the trio sat at the kitchen table; Hermione's notebook lay opened in front of them.
"I think we should do research in the morning," Hermione explained to Harry and Ron, "and practice spells and dueling in the afternoon. That way, we will get a wide variety of training as we continue searching for the Horcruxes. And I was looking at the library and I noticed that it was full of a lot of books on very dark magic that will be helpful in our research."
"We're not going to Hogwarts, and yet we're still getting as much work assigned to us," grumbled Ron.
"How else do you expect to track down the Horcruxes and train for the final battle?" Hermione snapped, closing her notebook and putting the lid on her inkbottle. "We are in a war, Ronald."
"I think it sounds like a good plan," Harry said, standing up and taking his coffee mug over to the sink. "We'll start first thing tomorrow." He noticed Hermione give Ron a triumphant glare, as if to say, See? Harry agrees with me.
Ron sighed and ran his fingers through his flaming red hair. "Yeah, well, okay… I suppose you're right. But we don't have to start working until tomorrow, right Hermione?" Hermione nodded her head, a small smile on her face. "Well, then. Harry, want to play a game of Exploding Snap?"
Many hours and several burnt eyebrows later, Harry stood up from the table, setting the cards on the table in defeat. "I'm going to bed," he announced.
"You're just afraid to lose," Ron teased.
Harry just laughed. "Nah, it's been a long day. See you tomorrow, Ron." He made his way to the door, and after saying goodnight to Hermione who was in the living room, reading, went upstairs.
***
A blinding jet of green light flashed in front of his eyes, causing the walls of the room to glow. As quickly as the light had come, it was gone. The room was filled with shadows and darkness, the only light coming from the moon outside the window, shining into the room between the blinds.
Someone screamed from downstairs, the sound high and penetrating; a female's scream. Then the screaming stopped, and all he could hear was the ticking of the clock above the crib in which he lay. The door creaked open and he could then hear footsteps as someone came quickly into the room, careful to make as little noise as possible. The woman's breathing was raspy and uneven and she closed the door quietly. No sooner had she done so, the door swung open again, banging against the wall. He then heard the high-pitched scream again, echoing against the walls of the room.
Suddenly, two blood-red eyes appeared from the dark shadows; horrible, menacing eyes, with slits for pupils. "Stand aside, silly girl," an evil voice said, deep and threatening. There was silence for a moment. Though he could not see, he knew the woman beside him had remained where she was, either out of bravery or out of fear. An evil laugh came from the mouth of the stranger. Then suddenly the voice rang out, "Avada Kedavra!" There was another jet of green light and he could hear a loud thump next to him; the woman had fallen to her death, her screams still echoing against the walls of the room. The evil blood-red eyes once again gleamed menacingly in the shadows. With an evil chuckle, he snarled, "We meet at last, Harry Potter..."
Harry awoke with a start. His scar seared with pain and he screamed out in agony, clutching his scar with both of his hands. Much to his surprise, the scar radiated heat beneath his fingers. His jet-black hair was drenched in sweat, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Nightmares, like the one he just had, haunted his dreams at night, almost every night. Since Dumbledore's death, he had horrible dreams; dreams replaying the murder of his parents, dreams replaying Sirius falling again and again through the veil of death, and dreams of watching, unable to do anything, as Dumbledore was murdered. And each night, the dreams would become more vivid and more horrible and more evil.
Only moments after Harry woke up, his door was thrown open and Hermione barged in, closely followed by Ron. Harry groaned and rolled over in his bed; he hadn't wanted his friends to know about his nightmares.
"I thought you said you weren't having nightmares anymore, mate," Ron stated as he sat down at the foot of Harry's bed.
"It's nothing," he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "It's no big deal."
"But Harry," Ron continued, "it is a big deal. What if it's You-Know-Who again?"
"Look, Ron," Harry said unenthusiastically, "it's nothing. I have these nightmares almost every night. Now go to back to bed."
"Did you-" Ron started, his voice trailing off as he noticed the exhausted look on his friend's face. Slowly, he made his way to the door, worry etched in his eyes as he looked back at Harry. "Well, goodnight then," he said softly before leaving.
Hermione, who had been standing silently in the corner the whole time, bit her lip anxiously, as if she was trying to think of something to say. After several moments, she appeared to give up, and she left the room silently.
Harry sighed and lied back down, but sleep did not come; his mind was too full of thoughts. Having your parents murdered was one thing. Having to witness their deaths almost every night was another. Every night he had to watch yet another cruel, horrible episode of the horrors of his life. And there was absolutely nothing Harry could do about it. He would just stand there, powerless, watching the scene unfold before his eyes over and over again. In every single dream he had, whether it was about his parent's death or the night at the Ministry, the dreams would all end with the same horrid eyes, eyes so piercing, so horrible.
He laid on his back, his eyes wide open, his mind swimming with thoughts. He wondered what his dreams meant, if they even meant anything at all. Was Ron right? What if it was Voldemort, placing these images in his mind like he had done several years ago. Perhaps he was trying to frighten Harry, reminding him of the consequences of dealing with the dark wizard. Or perhaps it was completely unrelated and had nothing to do with Voldemort. Harry lied awake for the rest of the night, staring at the ceiling, not knowing that in the room next to his, his best friend was doing the same.
Author's Note: So there is chapter two…Hope you liked it. I promise it will pick up soon; I am still trying to set everything up. Next chapter, the trio will start training, there will be more about Harry's nightmares, and things between Harry and Hermione will continue to come up. They should get together in the next few chapters…We'll see :-)
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