Unofficial Portkey Archive

(A/N: Here we are with another chapter! I wish to thank who has written a review and also those who have read the story without leaving a review... I need to point out, that I'm basing the story to what J.K. Rowling has recently posted on her official web site, like for example, Hermione's age; J.K. Rowling has stated that Hermione is older than Ron and Harry! Since Hermione's birthday is on 19th September, when she started her first year at Hogwarts on 1st September she was already 11 and turned 12 the next 19th September! The reason is that in England, law says that in order to start school, a child should be 11 years old. Said so, since this story starts during the summer before Harry's 7th school year, we already know that Hermione and Ron are 17, while Harry will be 17 on 31st july. I wish to thank my wonderful BETA reader IronChefOr for his great job! Now, I hope you'll enjoy the next chapter.)

Chapter 3. MAGNUS ERUDIO

The sun was high in the sky and its warm rays now completely lit the bedroom; Harry was still deep in sleep, tightly hugging the pillow in his arms, all of the bed sheets on the floor.

Suddenly, the silence of the room was interrupted by the sound of an insistent tapping on the window. After about fifteen minutes, the tapping became frantic, almost crazed. Finally, Harry slowly started to wake up; he first moved his legs and shifted position, then he turned on his other side. Realizing that the annoying noise wasn't going to stop, Harry murmured something that sounded like "Five more minutes, Aunt Petunia."

When the events of the previous day came back to his mind, Harry abruptly opened his eyes and snapped up on the bed like a rubber band. He put on his glasses and looked around for the source of the noise.

"Hedwig!" Harry's owl was still trying to attract his attention, perched in front of the window. Harry quickly jumped out of bed and rushed to let her in. Hedwig flew in, glided gracefully in a large circle inside the room close to the ceiling, and then landed softly on the bed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you," said Harry, sitting by her side and unrolling a small envelope from her leg. In reply, Hedwig started to peck at his fingers nervously.

"Ouch! I said I'm sorry!" exclaimed Harry, massaging his stinging hand.

Her task completed, the white owl took flight again, reaching her cage on top of the wardrobe where she perched herself, anticipating a well deserved rest.

Without wasting time, Harry opened the envelope and read the short note inside.

"Be ready for your transfer. Anytime is OK, starting from now. -Remus Lupin."

"Thanks a lot. What the hell does that mean, `Anytime is OK?'" commented Harry aloud. The message could have meant anything. Still wearing his pajamas, he left the bedroom and rushed to Hermione's door. He knocked several times, but nobody replied.

"Hermione?" Harry called, uncertain. Then, he slowly turned the handle and entered. Everything was clean and tidy, the bed made, the desk cleared, but Hermione wasn't there.

Maybe she's already downstair. It's probably late. I'm not even at home and I'm making a bad impression with the Grangers, he thought, embarrassed, feeling again that annoying pain in his stomach, the doubt from finding himself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Harry closed the door and ran downstairs. The first floor was deserted; the living room and the dining room were awkwardly quiet. Heading to the kitchen, finally he heard a few voices. Harry entered and found Hermione standing in front of the TV, with her back to him. When he walked in, the anchor was reporting on a devastating attack at a dance club in a nearby town.

"...one of the saddest tragedies in recent memory. The dance club unexplainably exploded during the night, causing the deaths of at least one hundred teenagers and wounding several hundred more. The cause is still under investigation. There are reports that several hooded individuals were seen standing around the building for no apparent reason just minutes prior to the explosion. Police fear that these individuals may also be responsible for a number of incidents in the past several months that, until today, had been considered mysterious accidents, although officials have refused to publicly comment on how that connection was made. A source familiar with the investigation said that it was, in fact, the total lack of any cause for all of these accidents that had linked them. Even accidents, the source said, have causes - faulty wiring, metal fatigue, and the like - and unless you believe that a building will magically blow up on its own, the complete and total lack of any evidence or cause itself suggests human involvement, whatever that involvement may be. We will, of course, keep you updated with any new developments.

The mayor of Londondarry has approved a tax ch..."

At that moment, Hermione switched off the TV. When she turned and saw Harry, she suddenly jumped on the spot, shouting.

"For heaven's sake, Harry!" she exclaimed, deeply annoyed, raising a hand to her heart.

"I'm sorry. You were watching the news and I didn't want to distract you."

"Well, you could've at least said hello," she replied sharply. She then went to the cupboard and quickly took out a few cups and dishes.

"Are you upset about the attack at the dance club?" Harry asked, after debating the right words to not upset her even more. "Anti-Muggle attack?" he commented.

"Any doubt?" replied Hermione, forcefully setting the cups on the table and then turning to look at him.

"No doubt," whispered Harry sadly. "They feel stronger, as if nobody can stop them," he said with conviction.

"Yeah... I also want to know if the wizards of the Order are organizing themselves," said Hermione bitterly as she poured hot tea in one of the cups. She was sure that Dumbledore would keep both of them in the dark regarding the plans of the Order of the Phoenix.

Suddenly, the letter from Lupin returned to Harry's mind. "I've just received this."

"It was about time," she said, grabbing the note from his hands and reading it quickly. "It's best if I go and say goodbye to Mum and Dad, since Lupin could arrive at any minute. In the meantime, you can have your breakfast, Harry. Mum made some cake this morning. I'll be back in a minute, OK?"

"Hermione!" Harry called back to her as she was leaving the kitchen. She slowly turned to him, her hand still on the door handle. "Everything will be all right," he said, smiling slightly. Hermione nodded and forced herself to smile, still feeling awkward inside.

***O***

"Magus Studiorum? What the bloody hell does that mean?"

Harry and Hermione's arrival at the Burrow was welcomed by the hysterical shouting of Ron coming from the kitchen. They had just appeared inside the Weasley's huge fireplace, traveling via Floo Powder. As they stepped into the living room, there was another burst of green flame and inside the fireplace appeared Remus Lupin, dragging with him their trunks, Crookshanks' basket, and Hedwig's cage. His clothes were scruffy as usual, and his face looked paler and more worried than ever.

"Ronald Weasley, it's what we've decided and I don't want to hear anything more from you!" The acute voice of Mrs. Weasley overshadowed her son's. Ron, nonetheless, answered back, shouting even more.

"It's not fair! Why don't Bill, Charlie, and Percy have to do it too? And above all, why does it have to be during our summer holidays?"

Mother and son entered the living room still bickering and didn't notice that Harry, Hermione, and Lupin were already there. It was funny to see how Mrs. Weasley, rather short and round, was still able to hold her own against Ron, who was taller than her. He seemed to have grown even more in the past month; his face was full of freckles as usual and his hair was still carrot-like, though a bit longer.

"Hem hem. Good morning, Molly. Is everything all right?" asked Lupin, uncertain. Mrs. Weasley looked surprised to see them; her face lit up with a large smile and she rearranged her clothes with her hands before speaking. Ron, however, cut her off abruptly.

"No! Everything is NOT all right!" he said, furiously. "Tell me, whose wonderful idea was this?"

"Ron, please, try to understand. The Headmaster thinks that it's better this way," Lupin spoke quietly, trying his best to convince Ron. His efforts seemed useless.

"I don't care. I won't go!" replied Ron firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were watching the scene disbelievingly, unable to catch the sense of the discussion.

"Ron, didn't you notice that Harry and Hermione are here as well?" Mrs. Weasley scolded him. She then moved over to the newcomers and hugged them tightly. "Welcome my dears. You don't know how happy I am to see you again. Is everything all right, Harry?"

"Y-yes, Mrs. Weasley, thanks," replied Harry politely, not knowing what to think of Ron's behavior.

"Come on, boys. It's best you go upstairs now. I need a minute to speak with Molly, and then we'll leave," Lupin told them while heading to the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley.

Once alone, the three friends stared at each other, perplexed. "What's going on?" asked Harry nervously. Instead of replying, Ron rushed upstairs, muttering something barely comprehensible that Harry and Hermione took as "Follow me and I'll tell you."

Reaching the upper floor, Ron opened his bedroom door and entered, followed by his two best friends who were still looking at him astonished.

"It's all Dumbledore's fault, as usual! As soon as I get back to school, I'm giving him an earful of exactly what I think."

"Why don't you calm down for a minute and give us a clear explanation of what's going on?" asked Hermione, raising her voice tone as she closed the door behind her.

"Fine! Do you know where Lupin is escorting us? To some forgotten place up in the North, to do some kind of training by some unknown wizard."

"What?" Harry and Hermione asked in unison.

"I thought we were going to Grimmauld Place like we did last year. What's this news?" Harry couldn't believe it. More than anything, he was annoyed by the fact that once again the Headmaster had made plans without asking his opinion first.

"I don't care about Dumbledore's reasons, I won't go. I said it and I mean it! I'm of age now and no one can force me. I don't want to waste the last month of our summer holiday cleaning thousands of dirty cauldrons in the house of... I don't know who," shouted Ron, moving closer to the window and staring at the fields outside. "Not now that everything was perfect between me and Luna," he added bitterly.

"Come on, Ron! Surely Dumbledore knows what's best for..."

"Honestly, Hermione, we all know too well what Dumbledore's reasons are." Harry cut her off. "He just wants us to be as far away as possible from the war. With the excuse of this training, he'll be able to keep us in the dark again. How stupid I was to hope that we were going to be able join the Order of the Phoenix anytime soon."

"I trust Dumbledore. And you should trust him too. Have you already forgotten what happened last year? Following Mark Evan's madness, we almost got killed." Hermione's great determination helped Harry to think about what had happened; he lowered his gaze sadly. "At least you, Harry, try to understand."

Hermione was right. Only a couple of months ago, Harry was lying on a bed, battling between life and death. His best friends had also nearly lost their lives. After what had happened, Harry had decided to trust Dumbledore more in the future and willingly accept any advice the Headmaster gave him. He knew that the best thing to do for now was to follow Dumbledore's request without objecting.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione?" Lupin's voice coming from downstairs made them jump in their places. "We need to go, now."

Harry and Hermione stared at each other uncertainly. The young witch spoke first. "I'm going with Lupin. Are you coming with me, Harry?"

He sighed deeply and nodded. He then turned to Ron, who was still staring intently out the window. "Will you change your mind? You're right. You're seventeen now and nobody can force you, not even me. It's just that... well, we've always faced everything together and..."

"Oh, damn! Of course I'm coming with you," shouted Ron, kicking the nearby bed table. He then turned to the other two. "Goodbye, month of holidays with Luna! But I'm sure you guys won't have any fun without me," he said, resigned.

The three friends smiled at each other; Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder as Hermione walked out into the hallway. "Do you need help with your trunk, Ronald?" she asked, thoughtfully.

"No thanks. Mum packed everything early this morning. You can't imagine how anxious she was for me to leave the house."

Harry smiled, sincerely happy that Ron had changed his mind. He didn't know what was waiting for them, but he was sure that, once again, he was going to face the situation with his two best friends by his side.

***O***

With a burst of green flame, Harry appeared inside a huge stone fireplace. The room was so dark it seemed like twilight around him; a deep, piercing cold penetrated his bones as he coughed from the strong smell of sulfur. Dragging his trunk with his left hand and Hedwig's cage with his right, he stepped out of the fireplace just in time before Hermione appeared behind him.

"What is this place?" she asked, brushing soot away from her face and clothes. She set Crookshanks' basket on the floor and looked around, curious.

A few seconds later, Ron appeared in the fireplace coughing loudly. "Hey, I bet it's been ages since anyone cleaned in here," he commented, reaching his friends. "Where the bloody hell are we?"

Before their departure from the Burrow, no one had told them exactly were they were going. To get there by Floo Powder, the three friends only knew that they had to pronounce clearly the name of the place: Hermitage.

A fourth roar of flame behind them announced the arrival of Lupin. "Here we are. Oh, I'm sorry. INCENDIO!" He pointed his wand and at his order, all of the candles in the room lit up, revealing a huge rectangular hall.

It was clear that they had found themselves inside a medieval castle. The many suits of armor standing against the stone walls were reminiscent of the ones at Hogwarts. The ancient floor was decorated with large tapestries and purple carpets, as twenty huge circular iron chandeliers hung from the high ceiling. The small windows were high up to the ceiling and were decorated with mosaics depicting battle scenes, knights on their horses, and elegant ladies.

"I-it's wonderful!" exclaimed Hermione, moving closer to one of the tapestries hanging on the wall that depicted an old witch wearing ragged, colored clothes, her arms tied around her back. She was slowly walking to the stake, escorted by two jailers in uniform. "This one seems extremely old. I'd say that it dates back to the High Middle Age."

The old witch turned to Hermione, wishing to be more specific. "Year A.D. 536, milady," she croaked and the two jailers nodded with a slight movement of their heads.

"Who lives in this castle?" asked Harry, staring at the tapestry not knowing whether he should feel sorry for the old witch or not.

"You're going to meet him soon. He's a solitary wizard and he usually doesn't like to go out in public. He's a really good friend of Albus Dumbledore. Let's go this way." Lupin guided the others through the hall until they reached a tall door made of dark wood. Before opening it, a small house-elf appeared in front of them.

"You're very welcome to the Hermitage Castle. My master is waiting for you. You can leave your belongings here. Please, follow me." The house-elf wasn't too different than Dobby; he had the same pointed ears, the same long nose, and two large, green eyes. He was wearing a dirty handkerchief tied up to his waist. The elf looked rather young, though Harry couldn't say for sure exactly what his age was.

The small magical creature escorted them through another huge hall where all the walls were covered with books. As they walked through, Hermione grabbed tight onto Harry's arm enthusiastically. Ron looked completely indifferent and Harry thought for sure he was still wondering why he had agreed to join them.

Other large rooms followed, each one different than the rest. In one room, the walls were covered by weapons, all methodically displayed from the more common to the most unusual. They then passed through a room where the walls and ceiling were all made of mirrors; there was even a room filled with a collection of Wizards' Chess sets, sets of every kind and from every country in the world.

Along the way, several ghosts greeted them as they hovered in midair; beautiful ladies wearing large skirts with lace were giving their arms to valiant knights. Most of them seemed rather polite, since were bowing deeply at the newcomers.

Finally, the house-elf reached a very small room that looked like an antechamber. Long wooden benches were sitting around the room and several ancient geographical maps were hanging from the walls, encased in fancy golden frames.

"The young guests can wait in this room while their escort will enter in the study to meet with my master. Please, this way."

Lupin turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione before following the elf. "It won't take too long. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Once alone, the three friends looked around.

"This castle gives me the shivers. Who do you think lives here?" asked Ron, pulling his shirt tighter around himself.

"Magnus Erudio," replied Hermione, readily. "An emeritus alchemist and researcher, Order of Merlin First Class, Member of the International Confederation of Wizards, Honorary Warlock on the Wizengamot - the Wizard High Court - Discoverer of the one hundred uses of Graphorn horns, Trainer of Griffins, Thestrals, and Manticores."

"How do you know all these things? Yeah... I almost forgot. You know everything!" exclaimed Ron, resigned, doing his best to hide his surprise. In reply, Hermione simply pointed her finger at a golden sign plate hanging on the door through which Lupin and the house-elf had just entered.

"This Magnus Erudio should get his face printed on the chocolate frog cards," observed Harry. "What do you think we're going to do here?"

"No idea. I just hope we'll be able to finish our homework," commented Hermione, sitting on a nearby bench. "I'm almost done with it, but I don't want to rush a few days before school starts."

Harry and Ron exchanged a sad look, since neither of them had started their homework yet. In any case, that wasn't their primary concern at the moment.

Suddenly, the house-elf appeared in front of them with a loud POP. "My master is ready to welcome you now. Please follow me."

The three friends followed the house-elf through the small door with the golden plate, then walked through a narrow, dark corridor. In that moment, Harry's scar throbbed painfully, making him stop with his hands on his forehead. An awkward feeling caught him and wondered the reason for it.

Ahead of him, Ron and Hermione, not noticing, continued walking until they reached a second door as the house-elf opened it. The study was completely filled with books. Piles were on the floor; thousands of books were stacked in tall towers that reached the ceiling. The walls were covered with shelves containing dusty stills and glass bottles of all shapes and colors. The only light in the room was from a few lit candles here and there, along with a few rays of sunshine that were filtering in with great difficulty through a small square window close to the ceiling.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were barely able to navigate the disorder. When they reached the opposite side of the room, they could finally see a large desk, covered by towers of books. Oddly, on each side of the desk were about ten pieces of parchment that were hanging in midair as an equal number of quills wrote on them at great speed. Harry was reminded of Rita Skeeter's charmed quill that diligently wrote down words as its impertinent owner spoke.

The small house-elf stopped in front of the huge desk and spoke to his master, who apparently was sitting behind it. "Here are your guests, sir."

"Thank you, Wizzy," replied a deep voice. "You can go now."

At his master's order, Wizzy disappeared with a sudden POP.

After a few minutes of silence, which Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent looking at each other uncertainly, they stood on their toes in turn and peered over the tall mountain of books on the desk. Unfortunately, the only thing they could see of Magnus Erudio was the top of his hat. It didn't look like an ordinary wizard's hat, as its tip was curled forward, giving the impression of a twisted horn made of purple cloth.

The warlock stubbornly remained in silence; because of this the three friends felt more and more awkward. More than this though, Harry's scar was still burning painfully and he was doing his best to not brush his forehead with his hand.

A few more minutes of silence passed by, the only audible noise was the scribbling of the quills hanging in midair. Finally, Hermione cleared her voice and spoke first. "I-I'm sorry, sir. We are..."

"I know perfectly well who you are," grunted Erudio, unexpectedly; the quills stopped writing, remaining still with their tips ready in waiting on the parchments. Then, the warlock turned to Harry. "Any troubles, Mr. Potter?"

At those words, the pain in Harry's scar disappeared. A little disoriented by the sudden stop, it took him a few seconds to reply. "N-no, sir. I'm fine!"

"Very well, very well," whispered Erudio. "And you Mr. Weasley?" he thundered.

"I-I'm fine as well, sir," replied Ron with a trembling voice.

"Very well. My name is Magnus Erudio, but you may still call me `Sir.' Surely you are wondering what you're going to be doing in this secluded place, in this castle that gives you the shivers." The warlock used the same words Ron had expressed just shortly before. "I'll tell you, then. We are here for a Magus Studiorum, a sort of magical training, a period of time in which you will practice all that you have learned during your six years of study at Hogwarts. Nothing more and nothing less will be asked of you."

Magnus Erudio stopped for a few seconds, during which Ron shot a worried look at his friends.

"I won't ask you to clean thousands of dirty cauldrons, if that is what is worrying you Mr. Weasley." At these words, Harry and Ron looked at each other disbelievingly.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione had just raised her hand in the air, and when she had permission, she spoke. "I was wondering, sir, if we'll have enough time to finish our homework." This question expressed her major concern regarding their stay at the castle.

"Be assured, Miss Granger, that you'll have enough time. Your duties will only take a few hours during the day, and you'll be free Saturdays and Sundays. After all, you're still on holiday, right?" commented Erudio sarcastically. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione had raised her hand again, and Harry nudged her with his elbow, fearing that too many questions during the first meeting wasn't a good idea. Unsurprisingly, she paid no attention to it and continued with her question. "Our escort, Remus Lupin, told us to wait for him in the anteroom, since..."

"I dismissed Remus Lupin just before letting you in. He wishes you a pleasant stay and says good bye," replied Erudio, not giving any opening for further questions on that subject. "The entire castle, including the park, is at your disposal. As you've surely noticed by now, each room contains a rare collection, fruits of studying and research. The only place that is strictly forbidden is the west wing of the castle, where my rooms are. You are not allowed in that area for any reason in the world. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" replied Harry, Ron, and Hermione in unison.

"Now you may go. Wizzy will show you to your rooms." As soon as Erudio finished his sentence, the small house-elf appeared in front of them.

"Please, follow me this way," said Wizzy, bowing deeply to them before heading to the door.

"There is one last thing."

The three friends were already moving away when Erudio called them abruptly and they turned again. When they saw him standing behind his desk, their surprise was great. Tall and still vigorous despite his age, Magnus Erudio towered over the mountain of books. He wore a sumptuous purple robe, and had a long gray beard that reached down to his belt; under his horn-like hat, he looked completely bald. The elderly and pale face showed long, deep scars, probably resulting from his risky interest in the most dangerous magical beasts. The most striking feature, however, was his eyes: two deep blue irises, veiled by blindness.

"I need to apologize, as I won't be able to join you tonight for dinner. We'll meet tomorrow morning, in front of the north wing stalls. I wish you a very good night."

***O***

Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the house-elf upstairs until they reached the third floor where their rooms were.

Small and simple, the rooms were furnished with the minimum needed to live. Harry and Ron's room had two canopy beds made of wormwood with no curtains, a corner wardrobe, a small stone fireplace, and a large desk under a small window, the only source of light aside from a few candles hanging on the walls. Hermione's room was similar, but was situated on the floor above.

Their trunks were already by their beds, in addition to Crookshanks' basket and Hedwig's cage. Ron had decided to leave Pig at home this time.

Once alone, the three friends gathered in the boys' room and shared their first impressions. Harry and Hermione sat on the bed close to each other, while Ron stood by the window, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

"Was it clear to you? I mean, that he was blind?" asked Ron, alarmed.

"How could we know? It looked like his eyes were fixed on the three of us. He even noticed that I raised my hand twice," replied Hermione, shrugging her shoulders.

"There's something odd about him. I don't know what, but..." Harry didn't finish the sentence, and dipped again in his thoughts.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, frowning at him.

"Well, Hermione, think about it. He knew exactly what we were doing, even though he was blind. He even knew what we were thinking or saying a few hours earlier. Listen to me, there's nothing to trust about this wizard," commented Ron.

"Maybe the fact that he's blind has made him more sensitive than normal wizards. That could explain why he knew exactly what was happening around him," suggested Hermione.

"Right, but I'm sure that there's something else," started Harry. "He was able to read our thoughts, but also..." he stopped abruptly and lowered his gaze to the floor, not knowing if it was wise to tell them about his scar.

"What then?" asked Hermione, impatiently.

Harry raised his gaze. "Before entering the study, I felt a pain in my scar."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Why didn't you tell us right then?"

"I can't tell you every time. My scar burns so often!" exclaimed Harry, annoyed. "The odd thing was that when Erudio asked me if I was fine, the pain stopped abruptly, as if it never happened in the first place.

"I don't think that Magnus Erudio is a Death Eater or Voldemort's servant, if that's what you mean. We shouldn't forget that the Headmaster sent us here. If you want my opinion, Erudio is just really good at Legilimency, just like Dumbledore," said Hermione, firmly.

"So, how do you explain what Harry just told us?" asked Ron, even more perplexed. "I still don't trust that wizard and it'll be better if we keep our eyes open."

"All right, we'll keep our eyes open, as we always do! But I strongly hope that you don't start with your strange suspicions without having any real clues," said Hermione, making clearing her point of view on the subject. Then she sighed deeply, stood up, and headed to the door. "I'm getting ready for dinner. I'll see you later."

Before leaving the room, she stared at Harry for a few seconds. He was still sitting on the bed, immersed in his thoughts. Realizing that Hermione was looking at him intensely, he turned to her and quickly waved his hand. "See you later," he said, smiling; Hermione rolled her eyes and then closed the door behind her.

As soon as the two boys were alone, Ron frowned at Harry before speaking with a critical tone. "What was that?"

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, slightly embarrassed.

Ron reached the bed and sat by Harry's side. "Is everything OK between you and Hermione?" he whispered.

"Of course!" replied Harry at once. "Why are you asking?"

"Because, that wasn't exactly the best way to say goodbye to YOUR girlfriend," continued Ron maliciously.

Harry didn't know what to say. It had been a long time since he and Ron had talked about girls, especially about their girlfriends. Harry slowly stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Ron was right; he wasn't behaving normally, after all. There was something missing, but Harry couldn't understand what it was.

"Are you still in love with her?" asked Ron, abruptly.

"Damn, Ron! Of course I love her!" replied Harry, feeling his temper rising.

"What's the problem, then? You love her, she loves you. Listen to me, when you're with Hermione, don't waste your time thinking! Follow your feelings."

"Are you a love expert, now?" asked Harry, trying to avoid the subject.

"I'm not an expert. I've only spent a whole month with my girlfriend this summer, and I've followed a few of Fred and George's suggestions, that's all."

Harry tried to imagine the twins giving advices about girls, and laughed. "Thanks, but you don't need to worry. Me and Hermione just need a bit of time to pick up where we left off," replied Harry, wanting to end the discussion there.

"If you're sure about that!" exclaimed Ron, standing up and reaching his trunk. "We should get ready before Hermione comes back to scold us."

"Yeah..." replied Harry absentmindedly.

That evening, they didn't touch the subject again. Ron had surely understood that Harry wasn't willing to talk about his love life. For his part, Harry didn't know what was the right thing to do. One side of him desperately wanted to open himself up and tell Ron all of his doubts and fears, but the other side was telling him to keep everything inside.

He really wanted to have someone who could give him some good advice, an adult with more experience than he had. Harry closed his eyes and immediately, his parents' and Sirius's faces appeared in front of him. I wish you could be here with me... he thought, with a note of melancholy.

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