Author Note: After some disappointing reviews lately I was going to abandon this fic but listening to the Harmony Podcast and some of the songs revived my desire to plod on with it. And the fact that I was annoying myself by being such a whiny little baby. I cant please everyone and I apologise to those readers who have changed their minds on this story. Even being published in real life hasn't made me totally good. Still don't know where this is going totally but I'm sure something will spring to mind (answers on a postcard but please don't suggest the rubbish bin!).
Chapter 16 - A Little Discovery
Autumn became winter seemingly overnight. The chilly breezes of mid-November gave way to full blown icy winds and frost tinted mornings. The fires of Grimmauld Place were constantly lit due to a clever little Ever-Burning charm Hermione performed on the grates. This made the house, as cold as could be and barely habitable at the height of summer, at least a little more comfortable to move around in.
Not that Harry was spending much time there these days. He had made a promise to Professor McGonagall that the proposed practical Defence class would begin in the term after New Year. That left just over a month of preparation time for the first lesson, but Hermione had thought it best to create an entire term plan. Privately, Harry agreed with her, but he was nevertheless vocal in his complaints about such a hefty workload.
"Is this really necessary?" he moaned as Hermione made him slave through Grindylows and their Weaknesses. "I've fought these things. I know how to get rid of them."
"It doesn't hurt to refresh your memory," said Hermione bossily. "If you don't stop whingeing I'll make you train to wrestle a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Would you like that? I'm sure Hagrid has some running around somewhere, or, heaven forbid, something worse he might have concocted."
She cast a cautionary glance out of the window as if expecting to see some foul, many-winged and many-fanged beast fly past the castle on cue.
"A-ha!" cried Harry triumphantly. "Finally, you start playing to my strengths."
"Harry - you know I love you but a member of the WWF you are not."
"Good. If there's one thing I can't stand it's those tree-hugging hippy activists and their goody-two-shoes causes."
Hermione gave him a pitying, that-really-is-a-bad-joke sort of look and went back to whatever book she had been poring over. Harry went back to his own book but not before noticing that Hermione's volume was far smaller than his. He felt that there was definitely something wrong in the world when a situation like that arose.
"What's that you're reading?" he asked.
"It's about pixies," she replied without looking up.
"Remember that time in Gilderoi's class with the Cornish pixies," said Harry recalling his only encounter with the sprite-like beings. "Wonder how he's doing now."
"Don't call him Gilde-wah," said Hermione.
"Oh I'm sorry," said Harry sardonically. "But I don't think you're pet name of `darling old Lockie' would sound very good coming from my mouth."
"Then don't call him that either," said Hermione. "People will start talking about you."
"That'd make a refreshing change," said Harry.
The planning was going slowly and Harry wasn't sure all this reading was as essential as Hermione did. It was, after all, supposed to be a practical Defence class and as far as Harry was concerned it would be just like an extended DA session - with just another DA added to the name.
Hermione, it seemed, favoured a more academic approach. This didn't surprise Harry at all; it was Hermione and academic achievement was always likely to be high on her agenda. Harry's dilemma was whether or not he could convince her to strike a balance between the two approaches, with practical learning slightly more important. At the moment, though, he didn't dare broach the subject. Hermione had been in a peculiar mood for days, always on the edge of snapping. When Harry had asked her what was wrong, after she had sulked for half an hour over him only putting one sugar in her tea, her only response was that he was a boy and wouldn't understand. With that in mind Harry decided it was best to keep his distance until whatever was affecting her had passed.
So much of Harry's time was spent wandering the Hogwarts grounds, thinking. His thoughts drifted from one thing to another without really settling on anything. Most often his thoughts trained on Voldemort, where he was, what he was doing and who he planned to kill next. Other times he thought about Regulus Black, whether he was still safe in his Egyptian exile; this led his thoughts inevitably to Ryan and his friends and what they were doing. He spent a lot of time sitting by the enormous tomb of Albus Dumbledore, staring into the carved facade as if trying to glean some otherworldly advice on what to do next. None was forthcoming, however, and at these times Harry gave into the sensation that his ears were burning and returned to Hermione to stop her cursing him for his lack of application to the DADA planning.
It was strange being back at the castle again during term time. It felt oddly empty, a sensation that Harry thought had little to do with the several hundred missing students who hadn't returned to the school. It was the unfamiliar sight of Professor McGonagall on the Headmasters chair, the lack of that intangible presence that Harry had always known was there but only appreciated now that it was gone. Hogwarts just didn't feel the same, didn't feel like home, without Dumbledore there.
This emptiness was coupled with a constant sense of anticipation that seemed to follow Harry around from the time he woke to whatever unearthly hour he finally drifted off to sleep. The feeling of waiting for something to happen, a prompt to drive him to action. The remaining pieces of Voldemort's soul were all with the man himself and until the time of the inevitable final confrontation arrived Harry was a little useless. It added up to a burgeoning feeling of inadequacy borne out of self-doubt that had been building in Harry for some time.
"What do you think you should be doing?" Ron had asked when Harry told him of his concerns. He had moved back into Hogwarts, as Harry and Hermione were there practically every day, and Harry had confided in him as he couldn't face admitting something like this to Hermione.
"I don't know," Harry replied. "Something, anything. I just feel I should be doing something to help the Order. It's not like they're doing that well."
"That's true," said Ron who was looking over a copy of the Daily Prophet, the cover of which reported the death of Kingsley Shacklebolt. "How many can they have left?"
"Who knows," said Harry. "Why don't we ever hear about Death Eaters getting killed? Why is it always captured and arrested? They only escape to kill again."
"So you'd prefer to kill not capture?" said Hermione, who Harry hadn't heard enter the Gryffindor Common Room, where he and Ron were talking. "That was the sort of thing Barty Crouch wanted and look where he ended up."
"Yeah, well, I don't have a manic of a son chasing after me to do me in for the sake of Voldemort."
"Perhaps if you did you might be little more focused," Hermione said waspishly.
"What's gotten into you?" said Harry, rounding on her. "What have I done now?"
"Nothing, that's the point," Hermione snapped, returning Harry's tone with a sharp one of her own.
"There's plenty of time to plan the lessons," said Harry. "What's the rush?"
"The rush, dear, is that I know you weren't planning to teach this class for the benefit of everyone here. I know your real reason; you forget how well I know you."
"And what is that then?"
"You planned to learn some of the Dark Arts to use against Voldemort," said Hermione bluntly. To his left Harry heard Ron gasp and on some deep level he knew that the suggestion mist have been truly bad to make Ron disapprove. He didn't really register it, though, as his gaze was burning into Hermione's face.
"How can you even suggest that?" said Harry.
"Because it's the truth, isn't it?"
"No," said Harry, whose tone didn't even convince himself.
"Oh come off it, Harry," said Hermione. "You told McGonagall you wanted to use the resources here. You know that as a teacher you could access all the Dark Arts text books without needing a permission slip. Never crossed your mind, did it?"
"Not once," said Harry, lying resolutely. "You seem to have given the idea a bit of thought, though."
"Meaning what?"
"Enough!" said Ron forcefully. "If you want to have a lovers tiff you'd be better off doing it a home. People are starting to stare."
"Hang everybody else!" cried Hermione. "This is much more important than a few eavesdropping kids!"
"Always such a people person," said Ron smirking in Harry's direction.
"Er, I don't think antagonising her is a good idea," said Harry warningly.
"Why? Its only Hermione? Not like she's going to do anything nasty, is it?"
Harry groaned and closed his eyes. He didn't have to wait more than a few seconds.
"Only Hermione?" Hermione cried shrilly. "We'll see how much it's only me."
She waved her wand at Ron and out shot at least fifty spiders that all began scampering towards him. Harry watched in a mixture of amusement and horror as Ron seemed to take off from a seating position and fly onto the window sill.
"Lets see how to get out of that without only me to save you this time," said Hermione.
"Hermione, get rid of them, that's enough," said Harry as Hermione ordered the spiders to torment Ron. "You know how scared of them he is."
"Then maybe I should send them at you!"
Harry saw the spiders spin around and make for him. He drew his wand, gave it a lazy little flick and they all vanished into thin air.
"Any more parlour tricks, or are you just going to tell me what's wrong?" asked Harry.
"You really just don't get it, do you?" said Hermione, who no longer seemed angry but on the edge of tears.
"Obviously not," said Harry. "Why don't you enlighten me?"
"Oh forget it, Harry," said Hermione before turning on her heel and storming from the room.
"Why are women such flaming hard work?" Harry cried in frustration.
"I know, I know," said Ron coming up behind. "I'm meeting Luna for dinner. Fancy joining us?"
"I should go after Hermione," said Harry. "That's what she would expect me to do."
"In that kind of mood? I know you're brave, Harry, but I didn't think you were getting suicidal. Come on, she'll come to you when she's calmed down. Let's eat, I'm starved."
Against his better judgement, Harry followed Ron from the common room. He doubted that Hermione would come to him as Ron thought and couldn't shake an image of Hermione waiting in an empty classroom for him, pacing around and checking the time every couple of seconds, getting angrier as time passed. The thought was too frightening to spend much time on.
Ron met Luna in the Entrance Hall. She was wearing her radish earrings and her skin seemed to twinkle in the flickering torchlight. Ron kissed her uncertainly on the cheek, as if worried that Harry would laugh at his technique. Harry only grinned to himself, though, something he thought was excellently restrained of himself.
"Hello, Luna," he said.
"Oh, hello, Harry," said Luna dreamily. "Are you having dinner with us?"
"If there's room," said Harry.
"Oh there's plenty of space," said Luna, casting a look into the Great Hall. "All the Slytherin students are at home being trained into Death Eaters and shapeshifters."
"Ah," said Harry, grinning at Ron who had turned a colour similar to Luna's earrings.
"Shall we go in?" Ron suggested.
Harry nodded at Ron led the way across the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table. People weren't quite as rigid, Harry noticed, with the seating as usual. Seamus was over talking with Terry Boot on the Ravenclaw table, there were a couple of Hufflepuff Quidditch players talking animatedly with their Gryffindor counterparts not far from where Harry was sat and there were a few couples hunched close on the otherwise empty Slytherin table. Somehow, it just didn't feel right.
"Ah, grub! Excellent!" cried Ron as the table was suddenly laded with various dishes. "No matter what happens in the world the Hogwarts House-Elves always put on a good spread."
For a while there was no conversation as they ate. Ron was more gannet-like than normal and seemed to be eating as though it were going out of fashion. Luna was picking merrily at a chicken pie and watching Ron with a bizarre look on her face that Harry had a hard time placing as amusement or despair. There was enough entertainment in watching these two to last Harry a lifetime. Luna, as was her way, had to break his enjoyment with her typical awkward observations.
"Where is Hermione tonight?" she asked. "I saw her crying upstairs not long ago. She seemed very upset, it must have been something very serious for her."
"Her and Harry had a row," said Ron. "She wouldn't tell him what about."
"It's probably something personal," said Luna thoughtfully. "She's quite emotional. It must be private or something you don't talk about in public."
"Like what?" asked Harry eagerly.
"Women have problems that boys don't," said Luna. "They aren't nice ones, either."
"Ha!" laughed Ron. "I know what it is! Don't worry, Harry - give it a couple of days and it'll be all over."
"I think I'm going to go and find her," said Harry getting up. "She'll only be mad at me if I don't. I'll see you later."
Harry left the Great Hall and made his way back upstairs to look for Hermione. He didn't know where to start; if only he had his Marauders Map he would be able to find her easily. But the castle seemed very big when you were looking for one person. Passing the window Harry glanced out across the Lake. He was struck by a flood of memories of walks around the banks with Hermione. He chided himself for not realising sooner what they could have had, lamenting the wasted time. As he did so he noticed a small figure sat on the edge of the water. Harry thought he might have just swallowed a vat of Felix Felicis so turned on his heel and made his way back downstairs.
As he expected, the figure on the bank was indeed Hermione. She was tossing stones into the water and watching the ripple until they disappeared. Harry moved quietly up and sat beside her.
"You don't know how long I've been looking for you," he said, thinking it was best to look like he had been doing what he should have been.
"You're a bad liar, Harry," said Hermione. "I saw you up at the window on Gryffindor tower a few minutes ago."
"One day you'll miss a trick and I'll get one over on you," said Harry. "I'm sorry."
"It's my fault, too," said Hermione. "I shouldn't be taking my problems out on you."
"That's what I'm here for," said Harry. "Besides, I know what the problem is now so don't worry. I'll help you through it."
"You'll what?" said Hermione. "Help me thorough what?"
"Y-you're problem," said Harry, less assured by Hermione's tone. "You're women's problems."
Hermione laughed out loud. "Oh, Harry! You're so sweet. Naïve, but so sweet. I admire you for trying that one. Most boys would have kept their distance."
"Well I'm here to take all you've got, like I said."
"That's good to know," said Hermione. "Trouble is, that isn't the problem."
"It isn't?"
"Well - it is and it isn't. If you know what I mean."
"Um - no," said Harry blankly."
"Do I always have to connect the dots for you? Lead you from A to B to C so that your little boys mind can comprehend? We'd have so much more fun if you just tried to figure it out."
"Hermione," Harry pressed.
"Okay, think of it like this - my problem isn't with that, but because of the lack of it."
"Lack of it?" Harry repeated. "You mean you haven't had… you mean…"
"At last he understands," said Hermione as Harry stared at her.
"Oh…" said Harry. "W-what does that mean?"
"What do you think it means?" Hermione said. "Biology not your best subject, is it?"
"But you can't be…can't be…that," Harry stammered.
"I can, but I might not be," said Hermione. "I'm late, that's all. And I'm never late. You know me, do everything as efficient as possible."
"How late?"
"A few days."
"Is that a lot?"
"For me it is," said Hermione. "I'm never usually more than a day either side of when I should be. It's been five now."
"Maybe it was something you ate," said Harry, slightly desperate. "Maybe it was something you didn't eat."
"It doesn't work like that, babe," said Hermione.
"Well, what are you going to do?"
"Don't you mean what are we going to do?" she said. "This is a joint thing."
"Yeah - course," said Harry.
"Nothing's certain yet," said Hermione. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
"Another thing to think about," Harry said, trying not to sound overwhelmed. "Remember the old days when things were easy for us?"
"Things have never been easy for us," Hermione corrected him. "The only easy day we've had was when we met on the train our first day at Hogwarts. And even that wasn't easy because I was annoying enough to make you dislike me at first."
"That isn't true," Harry protested. "I never disliked you."
"Much," Hermione said with a smirk.
"Okay, so you were hard work at first," Harry admitted. "But you mellowed as soon as you came around to mine and Ron's way of thinking."
"Excuse me but I have never, and I hope I never do, think like you and Ron," said Hermione hotly. "I take that as an insult. I have some dignity, you know. Breaking fifty school rules in one go was hardly a clever plan."
"It worked though," said Harry. "And you enjoyed it, really. All that, `you're a great wizard, Harry,' stuff. Been flirting with me for years, really, haven't you?"
"And look how long it's taken you to notice!" Hermione exclaimed.
"I was thinking about that earlier," said Harry. "We could have had this so much sooner. I think I was just waiting for you to grow boobs!"
"You cheeky sod!" said Hermione, giving him a playful slap.
"One thing I always wanted to know, though," said Harry, "now that we're talking about the old days."
"Yeah?"
"Remember down under the school, just before you took the potion to go through the wall of fire?"
"Course."
"You said something like there being more important things than books and cleverness. Friendship was one, I think bravery was another, but you were going to say something else before you threw yourself at me."
"I did not throw myself at you!" Hermione protested.
"Yes you did," said Harry. "I remember because it was the first proper hug I'd ever got. The only other ones were bear-hugs from Dudley when he was trying to crack my ribs."
"Oh, Harry!" said Hermione. "I never knew that."
"I'm full of surprises," said Harry, grinning. "So, come on, what was thing number three?"
"Friendship, bravery," said Hermione counting them off on her fingers. "And love, obviously. I thought you might have worked that out, but then you are as thick as a corned beef sandwich so I shouldn't have expected too much."
"Great for my self-confidence you are," said Harry. "Why didn't you say love then? Or were you just so overpowered by the emotion that you just hugged me."
"Probably," Hermione replied. For a few moments Harry just watched the ripple of the moonlight on the lake reflected in Hermione's eyes.
"I was just joking," said Harry.
"I wasn't."
"Star-crossed lovers, are we?" asked Harry. "A proper little Romeo and Juliet."
"And why not?" asked Hermione. "There's no reason why it shouldn't be like that. You've got things I don't have and things you need I can give you. I think we make up what the other misses quite well."
"Talking about missing things we'd better get back up to the castle, try and catch the end of dinner," said Harry. "Especially if you're, er, eating for two!"
"Hey!" cried Hermione. "And Harry -"
"I know - not a word to Ron. Come on."
Harry helped Hermione to her feet and they made their way back up the bank towards the school. As they reached the light filtering out from the Entrance Hall, Harry happened to glance over towards the outline of Hagrid's cabin. His eye was caught at the school gates where silhouetted against the light from Hagrid's hut a figure was clearly visible.
"Who's that?" Harry said to Hermione.
"I don't know," she replied. "I can't make it out from here."
"Let's go and look," said Harry.
"Harry, I don't think that's a good idea," said Hermione. "We should get someone else to do it. Filch, maybe. Or Hagrid."
"It won't take a minute," said Harry, who was already moving towards the path. Hermione, somewhat reluctantly, followed and they made their way up the winding road to the gates. About fifty yards from the gates Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his heart beating hard. From the light it was clear who this was. There was just no mistaking that sallow skin, the mass of greasy hair or the hooked nose amplified in profile.
Severus Snape was at the gates of Hogwarts, trying to get in.
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