Author's Note
Dear Patient Readers,
It is actually very late Monday night for me as I type, and I would firstly like to say thank you, as always, to Kirsti (for all the reasons she knows) and secondly, I am sorry that this is "late" - although for some of you it may not seem to be (thank heavens!). I am actually in the middle of a rather harrowing experience with my darling dad (he was hospitalised yesterday) and between visiting him (and worrying about him) and having family members from the country come to stay with me, I don't have very much time at all at the moment. However, I will be doing my best to keep to my schedule, but if I can't manage it for the next week or so, I hope you'll understand why. In the meantime, please enjoy Chapter Nine…
Janie xoxo
REUNION
By JanieB
CHAPTER NINE
Not one of the eight observers actually saw the fog dissolve for the third time, as each and every one of them had closed their eyes in fear, eager to delay facing the unknown sight awaiting them…
`Anyone know where are we now?' asked Fred.
`Nope,' replied George, `and I don't mind admitting I'm afraid to look.'
`Me too,' said Luna to his left.
`This is ridiculous!' snapped Ginny as she opened her eyes. Her loud, incredulous gasp caused every other eye to spring open and her gasp was echoed by all her companions.
`Arthur! What's happened? Where are we?' cried Molly.
Arthur shook his head, gazing around. It looked as though they were underwater - the quality of the light and the sickly, green-tinged air seemed to ripple and waver; the pale substance that was the ground felt strangely like sand beneath their feet, although it held no resemblance to it whatsoever. There was nothing to be seen in any direction as they looked around, squinting in an attempt to see something, anything through the peculiar, undulating air…
`Look!' called Dean suddenly, `There's Ron!'
`And Harry!' cried Ginny.
`What about -' began Neville, but he was interrupted by George who suddenly yelled, `Hermione!' pointing.
Some way off, the Trio appeared to materialise slowly out of the oppressive, greenish haze, one by one, looking around in a confused manner.
Confident now that they were still watching a memory held within the Pensieve, Arthur strode off towards the Trio, urging everyone to follow him.
As they drew closer to the three friends, they recognised their clothing - it was what they'd worn during the fight with Voldemort.
`What the hell's going on?' demanded Dean, although in truth he didn't expect an answer.
`I think they're wondering the same thing,' commented Luna, peering at Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were now looking at each other, frowning. Their hands were still held to their heads, although their faces no longer showed any sign of pain.
`Ron!' Hermione's fists clenched as they dropped to her hips, her face twisted into a mask of disgust. `This must be your doing - it's your fault!' she spat at him scathingly.
Ron's hands fell to his sides as he turned and glared ferociously at Hermione.
`My fault?' he hissed at her, `My fault! If it's anyone's fault, Hermione, it would be yours!'
`Shut it, Ron!' ordered Harry superciliously.
`Oh, yeah, of course, stupid me - I forgot! You can't say anything against Little Miss Perfect, especially not in front of The Chosen One!'
Those watching cringed at the sneering contempt in Ron's voice, Molly making an inarticulate sound of horror as she grabbed her husband's arm.
Harry took two steps and reached out, grabbing Ron's jumper at the throat and snarling, `You're right Weasley, you are stupid!'
Hermione gave a short, scornful laugh. `Jealous again, Ron?'
Ron twisted from Harry's grasp, pushing him away as he whirled to face Hermione, his face contorted with rage.
`You vain little b-'
Ron got no further as Harry's fist collided with the side of his head and he dropped to his knees, nausea clawing at his stomach from the pain that exploded behind his eyes.
`Typical,' sneered Hermione.
`What are you on about?' demanded Harry, glaring at her.
Ron drew himself slowly to his feet, holding his head. `Shut up both of you! You make me sick!' he croaked.
`Go to hell!' ordered Hermione, her voice full of contempt.
Suddenly, Harry fell to his knees; Ron and Hermione saw his face twist with pain before he dropped his head into his hands.
`Harry, what -' began Ron and Hermione together, getting no further as they, too, frantically clutched at their heads once more, the pain suddenly returning - so severe they couldn't even moan.
The eight watchers barely had time to register shock at what they'd been witnessing when they became aware of what felt like a breeze, lifting the corners of their robes and sending strands of hair into their eyes. It seemed almost alive and held a ghastly, stagnant malice, making them shudder as the sluggish tendrils whirled around them. Words had formed in all their heads, but stayed frozen on their tongues as a piercingly evil whisper filled the air around them. They weren't able to make sense of what they were hearing - the erratic cadence vile and repugnant to their senses.
`What is it saying?' whispered Ginny, desperately straining to make out the words.
`Can't quite make it out,' replied Arthur, his frustration evident in his voice.
`Harry said we wouldn't really exist in these memories, that we couldn't be harmed,' said Fred quietly. `So how is it we can actually feel that -' he shuddered involuntarily, `awful sort of presence?'
No one, of course, could answer as no one knew or understood what was happening.
`Luna?' Neville's concerned voice broke into the uncertain silence and they all turned to see Neville looking anxiously at Luna, his hand resting on her shoulder.
Luna's gaze had become rather dreamy and faraway and when she spoke, it was in a soft, eerie whisper, her words surprising them all…
`Disturb…loathing…anger…expose…hatred…disrupt…evil whispers…destroy…hatred…distort… hatred…'
Neville grasped Luna's upper arms, his expression apprehensive as he said her name again. She stopped whispering and gave her head a shake as though trying to clear it, looking up at Neville with fear and confusion on her face.
`You all right?' asked Neville.
Luna nodded. `I think so,' she replied, just as she began to tremble, tears trickling down her cheeks. `This is a place of terrible evil and so much hatred I can't bear it!'
Neville pulled her to him in a comforting embrace.
Molly was wringing her hands as she looked helplessly at the Trio, who were still obviously in pain.
`Isn't there anything we can do?'
`Mum, this was years ago, remember?' Fred exchanged a worried look with this father - they were both becoming aware of a feeling of melancholy creeping through them. Arthur glanced round at the rest of the group, not surprised to see by their expressions that they all appeared to be affected by the same feeling.
`I just wish I knew what this was all about,' said Arthur, voicing the same thought on everyone's mind. Then, as they all watched, the Trio slowly stood up, rather unsteadily, their hands dropping hesitantly to their sides as though they expected the pain to return at any moment. They looked at each other uncertainly. Those watching were horrified to see the expressions of the three friends slowly twist into masks of loathing once more as they gazed at each other.
`Get the hell away from me!' snarled Harry. `I mean it, get away from me! Now! Back off!'
`You get away from me!' Ron yelled back.
`I mean it you idiot! Back way! You too, Hermione!' growled Harry as he threw his head back, gritting his teeth, his eyes screwed shut; he appeared to be having some sort of enormous, internal struggle.
The next few seconds seemed to contain an eternity - then Harry slowly lifted one foot, groaning as though the movement caused him pain; he took one agonisingly slow step backwards. `Move!' he hissed between clenched teeth as he took another step.
They never knew exactly what made them obey Harry, whether it was the sight of his tormented visage or the horror at seeing his scar slowly redden, but Hermione and Ron began to move backwards, slowly increasing the distance between themselves and Harry.
As the three figures gradually moved away from each other, step by step, inch by inch, Ginny felt two tears slowly trickle down her cheeks.
`What's happening?' she whispered, moving closer to Dean and burrowing her head into his chest. Dean put his arms around her as he shook his head.
`I don't know, sweetheart, but whatever this is, it must be part of what's kept them apart for all these years.' Dean shuddered. `You can feel the hatred - it's ghastly!'
Ginny nodded. `I feel like curling up in a ball and just crying!'
Arthur had gathered Molly to him; she was crying too. Neville still had his arms around Luna, trying to comfort her, while Fred and George continued to gaze sadly at the Trio, who were now standing about ten feet apart, glaring at each other.
As the distance between them increased, Harry seemed to relax imperceptibly. `This is Voldemort's doing,' he ground out through clenched teeth.
`Smart guess, Potter,' said Hermione sarcastically.
`You're the smart arse, Hermione,' sneered Ron, `why don't you explain this?'
`I doubt you'd understand even if I could, Ron!'
`Ron! Don't! Keep moving away! Both of you!' cried Harry as Ron took a step towards Hermione, his expression murderous. Harry took a few more steps backwards, watching Ron and Hermione as they did the same, obeying something deeper than their apparent hatred.
`Hermione, move back a little more; Ron, you too.' Harry's voice was still strained as though it was taking a huge effort for him to speak.
Ron and Hermione glared at Harry but slowly moved back a few steps, their feet moving as though they were walking in thick mud.
`Keep going!' cried Harry, who was also struggling to move backwards.
They'd managed to bring a distance of almost twenty feet between themselves, with Ron now a mere six feet from his huddled parents; he had his back to them and they could see his breathing was laboured.
`Hermione, do you feel any different?' asked Harry. He was the furthest from the group, yet his voice carried clearly in the strange, rippling air.
Hermione looked confused as she glanced from Ron to Harry. `I - I think so - I don't think I feel quite so angry or…'
`Ron?'
Ron nodded, his voice terse. `At least the urge to strangle either of you isn't as strong,' he growled.
`Me too,' said Harry.
`He cursed us,' said Hermione flatly, her statement unchallenged.
`So where the hell are we? What's happening?' asked Ron, taking another step backwards; his fists were clenched by his sides, his knuckles white.
`I wish I knew!' said Hermione dully as she sank slowly into a sitting position, wrapping her arms around herself; it was a futile attempt at self-comfort…
Staring at Hermione, Ron followed suit, his long legs awkwardly crossed in front of him; at least he couldn't suddenly run and lunge at her or Harry from this position, he thought. He became aware of a strange, sibilant sound, carried on a foul, lifeless breeze that had sprung up and turned to look at Harry…
The now huddled group of watchers became aware once more of the noxious breeze as it moved menacingly about them, bringing with it the sinister sounds of the evil whisper they'd heard earlier - only this time it was more than a whisper, slowly getting louder until it sounded as though a chorus of rank spirits was chanting some oppressively venomous verse…
Fear closed their eyes once more and they turned their faces from the horrifying spectacle that was unfolding…but they could still hear and found themselves drawn to watch despite their trepidation…
As Ron turned to look at Harry, his blood froze in his veins, a horrified gurgling sound issuing from him. Hermione looked across at him on hearing it and immediately followed his gaze, terror striking her dumb as she looked at Harry.
Harry was still standing. But he wasn't Harry. His scar was now glowing, it was a sickening blood-red and his eyes appeared to be the same colour as they gazed with malicious delight at Ron, a ghastly rictus stretching his lips in a poor imitation of a smile.
`He fights, the wretched, filthy blood-traitor!'
Hermione whimpered and Ron moaned at the harsh viciousness of that voice filled with unspeakable hatred. Hermione's made no sound as her lips formed the word, `Voldemort!'
`Leave him alone you rotten bastard!' bellowed Ron furiously, his hatred finding a new target.
Both he and Hermione clapped their hands to their ears in an attempt to block out the harsh sound of the piercingly smug and arrogant laughter that followed.
`Did you know, Mudblood, that the blood-traitor-Weasley lied to you?' The voice sounded inside their heads - there was no escaping it. Their hands dropped, useless, to their laps, their gazes trapped by the sight of Harry's face filled with inhumanly spiteful amusement.
The hateful, gloating laughter returned.
`He only pretended to feel no rancour at letting you go - I can see his thoughts! He still loved you!' A hideous sound, meant to be laughter, assaulted their ears. `Oh, this is even better! When he realised you and Potter were, shall we say, interested in each other, he had to work hard not to hate you both!'
`That's not true! You're lying!' shouted Ron.
`Shut up, traitor,' spat Voldemort's voice, and Ron jerked as a spasm of fierce pain ripped through him and he was rendered speechless.
`Potter's quite potty about Miss Filthy Mudblood!' crowed Voldemort nastily.
`Shut up!' screamed Hermione - then screamed again when she felt something ripple through her mind. The awful sensation was followed by the sound of a hideous cackle.
`And the Mudblood loves Potter! So sorry, Weasley - you lose again!'
Hermione watched in escalating terror as Harry - Voldemort? No! She had to think of him as Harry! - began to walk jerkily towards her, as if he was being forced against his will - or fighting another will…
`Perhaps you and I, Mudblood, should -' but he got no further. The cruel, venomous voice stopped abruptly and silence descended…
As the silence continued, Neville stared, enthralled and horrified at the same time. Glancing around, he noticed dimly that all the others had the same expression on their face. Despite Harry's assurances earlier that their presence was undetectable and despite knowing the Trio had survived this night, not one of them felt able to stand up fearlessly and watch what was happening with complete objectivity - or even just simple curiosity. The stark reality of what the Trio had endured this night in their quest to defeat Voldemort hit the horrified observers hard. All this - and then the trials they'd suffered over the last five years…it was hard to comprehend the price the Trio had paid, how much they'd given and what they'd sacrificed to ensure the safety of the wizarding world…
Hermione and Ron were unable to take their eyes off Harry - they couldn't bear to think of him as anything else - watching wretchedly as he stood motionless, unable to take another step. Then he shut his eyes and the awful red gaze was thankfully hidden behind tightly closed lids. Harry's head tilted backwards slightly; his scar was still glowing, although now a dirty, dark red colour. Hermione and Ron looked on helplessly as Harry's fists became so tightly clenched that the knuckles strained at the skin, threatening to tear it. The muscles in his jaws and neck worked furiously as his lips drew back, revealing tightly clenched teeth.
Hermione watched, her whole body unbearably tense, her eyes unblinking as tears streamed down her face. Ron looked as though he was straining uselessly against invisible bonds - his arms reaching out towards Harry, his face the white pallor of death, he was still unable to speak.
`Arthur!' Molly's cry held such deep despair and paralysing fear it sent a convulsive shiver through everyone watching.
`Molly, it will be all right because they are all right!' repeated Arthur, trying to infuse as much reassurance as he could manage into his voice. He held his trembling wife tightly to him, turning to make sure everyone else was all right. He saw Dean and Ginny with their arms wrapped around each other, both their faces wet with tears. Fred and George had thrown their arms around each other's shoulders and Arthur thought they looked as though they were just about to be sick. Neville was holding Luna tightly; he looked terrified and infuriated at the same time.
Neville looked back at Arthur. `How is it none of us realised?' he ground out.
`Realised what?' asked Arthur.
`The magnitude of what they did - of what they went through! We were all so damned busy trying to satisfy our own petty curiosity we never gave them a thought!'
`I always felt that we'd let them down, somehow,' said Ginny quietly.
`They don't want fame and fuss,' said Luna in her strangely ethereal voice, `they just want to be happy.'
`Harry!' Molly's shriek cut through their conversation and everyone immediately turned to look at Harry, their hearts jumping to their throats.
A harsh, pain-filled growl split the air as Harry fell heavily to his knees. Hermione's scream accompanied the sight of Harry arching convulsively as he threw his head back, his still clenched fists raised to press against his temples. The growl became a roar and then a dreadful, harrowing scream. Hermione attempted to crawl towards Harry but it was useless, her muscles still wouldn't obey her. Ron was still desperately clawing at some invisible barrier to no avail, his face a mask of frustrated, vengeful fury. In the extremity of their distress, they didn't notice the violent red of Harry's scar begin to fade, Hermione screaming for all of them as he collapsed, crumpling to the ground as though lifeless...
`Harry!' The name echoed eerily - Hermione's fearful scream and Ron's bellowing roar mingling - his voice returned to him - and then suddenly, they found themselves able to move: Hermione crawled to where Harry lay while Ron, lurching unsteadily, reached him at the same time.
Ron dropped to his knees beside Harry, and as his gaze met Hermione's across their friend's prostrate form, some insidious force seemed to slam into him and he fell sideways. Looking around desperately for the cause, he saw only Hermione, looking at him, her eyes clouded with some oppressively dark emotion. Anger surged within him as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.
`What the hell did you do that for?' he yelled.
`I didn't do anything, you idiot!'
`Like hell you didn't!' shouted Ron as he tried to stand up.
`GET AWAY FROM ME!'
Ron and Hermione both jumped then looked down at Harry; he was glaring at them both.
`NOW!'
Something inside them, something tenuous they couldn't name, made them obey and they moved away, Hermione still half crawling, half pushing herself, Ron stumbling and slipping as he too, moved back to where he'd been.
Harry pushed himself up onto his elbow, his breathing laboured, his face showing he was in pain.
`He's…nearly…gone…then we'll go back…'
`Back where?' asked Ron, his voice heavy with exhaustion and pain. `And who's gone, Harry? V - V - Voldemort?'
`What? Harry! Harry, what are you saying?' cried Hermione, her voice breaking, tears once more streaming down her face.
`Soon, my love, soon…'
`Merlin's holy beard! Look!' cried Dean unexpectedly, pointing with a trembling finger at three figures that had appeared in the haze beyond the Trio.
`Who the hell is that?' cried George. `It can't be -'
`I think it is,' said Dean, peering into the distance.
Everyone began murmuring amongst themselves about the three figures.
`It's Harry, Ron and Hermione as we know them…' said Luna in an ethereal whisper.
`They have their travelling cloaks on!' cried Ginny, sounding greatly relieved.
`So?' asked Fred, gaping at his younger sister as though she was mad.
Ginny rolled her eyes, her expression animated and happy.
`Don't you see?' she exclaimed, `They're the Trio from now - from our time! This was what they must've done last night. They're here - they've come back to - well, I'm not sure what they're going to do, but it has to have something to do with whatever went wrong…'
`But weren't they unconscious back in the graveyard last night?' asked Neville.
Ginny looked crestfallen. `I forgot about that…'
`Besides, what could they possibly do now, all these years later?' asked Fred, watching as the "new" Harry, Ron and Hermione moved purposefully towards them - or rather, towards the three figures on the ground in front of them, who seemed oblivious to the new arrivals.
`What are they doing?' asked Molly apprehensively as they watched the Trio came closer and closer until they stood just the other side of the now almost unconscious Trio on the ground. Three wands were lifted in unison as the standing Trio pointed them at their counterparts lying in front of them.
It was as they heard the beginning of what they knew to be some sort of spell, spoken by the Trio who had just arrived, that the peculiar fog formed around them once more for the fourth and final time. Each of those watching felt the horribly familiar fear clutch at their insides yet again; fear of what was to come, fear of what they would see, fear of the unknown…
As their vision returned, relief swept through the weary group at the familiar sights of the Burrow's kitchen. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting at the table and appeared to be alone. The table was set for tea - there were the cups and saucers and the teapot sat, under a bright, frilly cosy in the middle of the table, with the sugar bowl and jug of heated milk beside it. There was also a small, crystal decanter filled with a pale mauve liquid, surrounded by three, small crystal glasses.
`We're home!' breathed Molly, relief making her feel weak.
`But when is this?' asked Ginny, peering anxiously around.
`Oy, Mum,' said George, pointing at some knitting which lay, unmoving, across back of one of the empty kitchen chairs, `isn't that -'
`- the jumper you gave us for Christmas the year old You-Know-Who kicked the cauldron?' finished Fred.
Molly studied the half knitted jumper, a small frown of concentration creasing her brow.
`Hmm, emerald green with brown trim, yes, I believe that was to match your new dragonskin jackets, the ones you both bought to celebrate You-Know-Who's defeat…I believe you're right, boys.'
`And no cymbal-bashing, happy little Hagrid, either,' commented Dean dryly.
`So this is just before Christmas - not long after they'd defeated Voldemort?' asked Neville.
`It sure is,' put in Dean, pointing to a copy of the Daily Prophet lying on the sink nearby; the date under a photo of the Trio waving, holding up their Orders of Merlin (First Class) was five years earlier.
Arthur nodded. `The fourth and last memory we're going to see, I'd wager,' he said.
`What's that purple stuff?' asked Luna suddenly, drawing everyone's attention back to the Trio.
`It's not lasting as long,' said Ron sourly as Hermione picked up the delicate decanter and a tablespoon and carefully measured one and a three-quarter tablespoonfuls of the mauve liquid into the three glasses before passing one each to Harry and Ron.
`I did tell you it wouldn't,' said Hermione evenly. `Its effects have actually lasted longer than I'd hoped.' She didn't voice her belief that this was due to the strength of the Trio's bond and their love for each other. With a heartfelt sigh, she continued, "The remaining time for which it will have any effect is short and we need to save it for the future - for when we'll need to get together to dispel the curse. So we'll need to part in the next day or so.' She put the glass to her lips and drained it. Ron and Harry did the same and before anyone spoke again, Hermione drew out her wand and tapped the decanter, spoon and three glasses in turn, making them disappear. She then drew the three teacups towards her and began to pour tea for each of them.
`Hermione,' said Harry quietly as he watched her, `I know you haven't really had any time to work on -' he hesitated, before continuing, `- our problem - but do you have any idea how long it may take to find a solution?'
Hermione sighed again, a faintly despairing sound. Passing a cup to Ron, she said, `Now that the celebrations and so forth are out of the way, I'll be leaving for Beauxbatons soon,' she passed Harry his cup of tea, their gazes meeting, then sliding away, `and since I don't actually have to take up my position until early next year, I'll have a few weeks to research it.' She didn't say how terribly afraid she was that it would take far longer than just a few weeks to get to the bottom of this. It was a devastatingly strong curse.
`So how's it going to work?' asked Ron, sounding weary. `Will you be able to come up with a new, improved version of the Peace Potion?'
Hermione lifted her teacup to her lips and sipped gingerly at the steaming liquid before answering.
`It wouldn't help. From the outset, I knew the Peace Potion would only be a stopgap solution in the face of the strength of Voldemort's curse.' Ron shuddered out of habit at the sound of their enemy's name and Hermione closed her eyes momentarily in exasperation before going on.
`We all thought it was important to get through the, well, celebrations…' Hermione faltered, feeling the irony of the situation. What was there for them to celebrate? Voldemort may be destroyed but her two closest, dearest friends had been taken away from her because of it. The man she loved had been taken away before they'd even had time to properly acknowledge their feelings… She glanced across at Harry, colour rising in her cheeks when she found his intense gaze resting on her.
`But you'll work really hard at it, won't you Hermione? So you and Harry can -`
Harry's voice cut across Ron's bitterly spoken words, `Enough, Ron. We've covered that.'
`You've covered it, Harry, not me!' He glared at Harry. `That bloody Potion doesn't stop me from -'
`Ron, please!'
`Please what, Hermione? Please pretend You-Know-Who didn't say what he said that night? Pretend I never loved you? Pretend it didn't hurt when I found out how you two felt about each other?' Ron's voice rose with each question until he was almost shouting as he stood up abruptly, his chair almost falling over.
`You stopped loving me a long time before that! You know you did!' cried Hermione before she dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders shaking as she began to cry.
`I know. And you never loved me anyway,' said Ron bitterly.
Harry rose, glaring at Ron as he moved around to sit next to Hermione, putting his arm around her shoulders.
Ron stared at them and his shoulders slumped.
`I never hated you, Harry - or you, Hermione,' he said, sounding lost. `You-Know-Who was lying but even now, that bloody curse just mixes everything up and makes it all so -'
`Horrible!' finished Hermione, lifting her tear-stained face to Ron. `I would never deliberately hurt you, Ron! I feel so awful, so guilty…'
Ron sighed as he dropped back into his seat. `No need to feel guilty, Hermione. I don't blame you. Or Harry.'
`Ron,' said Harry softly, `I would never have -'
Ron chuckled, a hollow, desolate sound. `I know, mate. I know you. And Hermione. I know you're the kind of friend that would be stupid enough to give up his own happiness, so as not to hurt someone you love.'
`Stupid? Now, just a minute!'
Ron, suddenly looking tired, waved away Harry's indignant words. `Perhaps I'm more susceptible to this bloody curse than either of you. I don't mean you're stupid, mate, it's just - what does Hermione call it? - your "saving people thing" in action again. You save people from all sorts of things, without stopping to think about yourself. Even to your own detriment. You've always done it, and you always will. Now, where were we before I so rudely interrupted?'
Hermione gave Harry a weak smile of reassurance. `I'm all right,' she whispered. Harry sat back, but left his arm across the back of Hermione's chair.
`We can't keep relying on the Peace Potion,' Hermione said, `so we're going to have to…'
`Separate. Stay away from each other,' said Harry bitterly; they'd discussed this numerous times before.
Hermione nodded. `And I still think it's best if we keep this quiet. Nothing will be gained by telling anyone and, well, it's not something I'd want to talk about to anyone, anyway. I, for one, certainly don't feel up to going over this with Rita Skeeter or any of her colleagues.' Hermione took a deep breath. `Since I'll be in Paris, you'll be in Ireland,' she looked at Ron, `and you'll be at Hogwarts, Harry, we'll just have to each stay in our - appointed positions. Until I get to the bottom of that wretched curse.'
`It's going to take some doing, isn't it?' asked Ron quietly.
Hermione nodded. `This is Voldemort we're talking about, after all. But I'll find a way.'
`I don't doubt it for a second,' said Harry, giving her a lopsided grin.
`So it's agreed - we say nothing, and I mean nothing, to anyone - not even our families - about this. I'll only contact you once I believe I've found a solution, and not before - I don't think there's any point until we can actually see each other again. How ever long it takes.'
Ron and Harry both looked at her, their expressions sombre, and nodded, fortunately unaware of how long it would eventually take…
Once more the vision of those looking on was clouded by the strange fog, but this time it was accompanied by a peculiar feeling of rising into the air and then they all felt as though they performed a slow motion somersault before suddenly landing in the very same spots they'd occupied before "leaving".
Feeling oddly disorientated, they looked around the room, which was lit only by a few candles and the dying fire.
`Where are Harry, Ron and Hermione?' Molly said first what was on all their minds.
Fred and George had gone through to the living room and putting their fingers to their lips, gestured to the others.
`Ron must be upstairs, asleep,' whispered George.
Walking carefully, everyone filed in and felt relief at the sight of the sleeping couple on the lounge. Molly pulled out her wand and drew up a blanket, which she gently placed around them. Luna padded quietly across the room and disappeared up into the dark stairwell.
`Come on, back to the kitchen,' whispered Molly. `I'll make us some tea. Leave them sleep.' She felt tears form in her eyes, unbidden, at the sight of Harry and Hermione curled up in each other's arms.
Upstairs, Luna tiptoed over to Ron's bed and leant down to kiss him on the cheek. As she turned to leave and rejoin the others downstairs, she couldn't help but smile on hearing Ron murmur her name softly in his sleep.
When the noisy pandemonium broke out, it was decided there was no one to blame except Fred and George - after all, they'd been the ones who'd given their parents the clock in the first place…
It was at the stroke of midnight, while Molly was replenishing empty cake and biscuit plates and putting the kettle on again for the second round of tea, that a little bearded figure peered at them from a distance and decided that since they were all up, it must be safe to strike the hour. The first clash of the miniature cymbals made the men jump and the women squeal. The second clash had a half-awake Hermione grabbing Harry around the neck in fright. Harry, startled, woke up wondering whether he was in more danger from strangling-by-Hermione or death-by-stampede as Fred, George and Arthur all ran into the room in a futile and too-late effort to shut Hagrid up. The third clash reached Ron who lifted his head, looked around woozily and wondered what the dreadful noise was.
Arthur spoke harshly to the keeper-of-the-clock-and-cymbals who nevertheless rebelliously clashed his cymbals nine more times in quick succession, glaring at everyone as he did so and looking very put out before retreating, vowing to himself not to return before sun rise.
Ron came stumbling down the stairs, yawning, only mildly surprised to see everyone up. `Well, now I'm awake,' he managed, `I may as well join you for a cuppa.'
Luna clapped her hands delightedly. `Yes, please! It will be nice to talk to you. It'll help disperse those awful memories.' She shuddered delicately.
A profound silence followed Luna's words as "those awful memories" once more made their presence felt.
Harry and Hermione were standing in front of the couch, Harry's arm around her shoulders. Ron was caught in mid-stretch and everyone else just stood where they were.
Ron then made a sound which was actually a strangled laugh.
`Luna, don't ever change,' he said quietly as he walked over to her, taking her hands in his and gazing down at her tenderly.
Despite the chance to question the Trio, Neville regretfully took his leave. `I have to work tomorrow and a few hours' sleep is better than none!' He was, however, invited back for dinner the following day and accepted readily.
No one else appeared eager to leave, however, and more tea was made. As they settled around the table, the expectation was almost palpable...
Once more sitting between Ron and Hermione, Harry was acutely aware of what these people had witnessed that night and wondered, not for the first time, whether he'd done the right thing in using the Pensieve and said so aloud.
`You did the right thing,' said Arthur promptly, `don't worry about that, Harry. I admit it was rather harrowing to see things that way and it was rather distressing finding out something of what you all - well, went through. I'm sure everyone here would agree that we certainly have a far better understanding now.'
Everyone was nodding in silent agreement as Arthur spoke, and Harry felt a measure of relief. His main reason for using the Pensieve had been to spare Hermione and Ron - as well as himself - the ordeal of recounting the events, and he realised now that he hadn't given a lot of thought to how it may affect those watching.
`So, is there anything any of you want to ask us about?'
The babble of voices that broke out following Harry's question made it very clear that there were a lot of questions to be answered. It took quite some time to cover everything and it was many hours later before everyone eventually made their way to bed…
TO BE CONTINUED…
Author's Note
I will do my best to upload the next Chapter by the end of the week everyone (circumstances allowing), I promise.
Preview:
It was Molly again, who asked, `What about the things you said to each other?' She looked from Hermione to Harry and back. `What about how you felt about each other? And Ron?'
Each of the Trio dropped their heads for a moment before looking at each other. As though some silent agreement had taken place, Ron spoke first.
`You all know that back at Hogwarts, during our sixth year, that, well - Harry and Ginny went out for a while and everyone assumed Hermione and I - well…' Ron's voice faltered, his eyes glued to the table top between his clenched fists. Hermione gently placed a hand over one of those fists and squeezed gently before taking up the explanation.
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