Chapter Three - The Flight
Hermione and Ron listened with expressions of mild excitement and doubt to Harry's theory on the Gryffindor related Horcrux. He talked fast and with little degree of fluidity, describing the discovery of the Gryffindor Shield counter curse and the subsequent train of thought which led to this point. Harry glanced up a few times at Hermione, whose eyes seemed laden with the same fear he had seen the night at Godric's Hollow and he knew she was less comprehending his ideas than wondering what an easy target he was making himself travelling alone all over the country.
When he finished they both sat in contemplation for a few moments. This infuriated Harry, who had expected a torrent of positive enthusiasm for his plan and congratulations for being so astute. This sort of response, however, was not forthcoming and later Harry wondered at his initial surprise. After all, he remembered, they hadn't been supportive of his suspicions against Malfoy last year, and he had been proven right on that occasion. It was one on those `I told you so' moments that Harry was saving to bring up in just the right argument.
`I'm not sure about this, Harry,' said Hermione, speaking first.
`What isn't there to be sure about?' he retorted.
`Well - it's a bit vague, isn't it?' she said. `I mean, his Uncle's ring - family connection; Slytherin's locket - family heirloom. These are trophies Voldemort would value. What makes you so sure - and don't jump down my throat at this, I'm just asking - that this is the Gryffindor trophy that Voldemort would value?'
`I wish you'd say You-Know-Who,' mumbled Ron. `His name makes me queasy.'
`Oh Ron, just get over it!' said Hermione. `He's our enemy now. Our personal enemy. I think we can drop the whole You-Know-Who malarkey. Me and Harry have and you should too.'
`Well, that's you and Harry, isn't it? I mean -'
`You mean what?' said Hermione.
`I mean that Harry's Harry, Chosen Boy Wonder and all that, and you - well, most powerful witch around for our age. What have I got against Voldemort compared to that?'
Hermione seemed satisfactorily flattered in spite of herself. Harry, though, was mutinous.
`So I take it that I can't count on your help then?' Harry said, riled.
`Well, it's not that, its just -'
`Oh I think it's just that,' said Harry, his voice continuing to rise. `This is why I don't want you with me. All logic - logic and indecision. I don't need second guesses, I need to go for everything possible. I don't care if I have to destroy a hundred objects and ninety-nine of them are innocent so long as I get at least one Horcrux. If that's too much like hard work for you then fine, leave me to it. Go back to walking around like a couple of lovesick kids while I'm out saving your necks - again!'
Harry made to storm off but Hermione grabbed his arm. This was not a great idea.
`Get off me, Hermione!' Harry shouted. `If you don't want to help me then just get away from me. Leave me alone.'
Hermione looked close to tears and Ron looked a mix of shocked at Harry's behaviour and angry at the way he'd treated Hermione. Harry thought about taunting Ron but settled for giving him a hard stare before yanking free of Hermione's grip and storming into the garden.
Harry was too infuriated to think any more about his plan. Instead he leapt over the stile separating the Burrow garden and the big field where they played Quidditch and stormed around in the yellowing grass. He took his frustrations out on a colony of gnomes he stumbled over, taking each of the squealing little men in turn and spinning them around him like a hammer-thrower before sending them sailing into the air. He looked towards the Burrow several times and saw Hermione watching each time. She's probably looking to make sure no rogue Death Eaters come and get me, Harry thought bitterly. He tossed his latest gnome further than any of the others before storming up the field and out of sight of the house.
It was dusk before Harry decided that his anger and frustrations had subsided enough to return to the house. He made little effort of move quickly, letting his wizard's cloak trail behind him. He had taken to wearing this cloak almost everywhere he went, simply because it looked cool and made him feel like someone impressive. He watched the deep orange sun fall slowly behind Stoat's Hill in the distance, wondering vaguely what he would have to do to avoid conversations once he re-entered the Burrow. His thoughts still hadn't been able to settle on possible locations for the Horcrux but he was determined to give it a try, even if he had to do without his two helpers.
Harry was please to find the path to the stairs clear when he slipped in through the back door of the house. He scurried across the floor and took the stairs two at a time, ignoring a half-hearted call from Hermione who must have been waiting for him to return. There was a tone in her voice that suggested she knew her attempts to get him to stay would go unheard. Harry reached the attic bedroom and closed the door tightly before pulling off his cloak and shoes. He massaged his feet, which were a little sore after walking for hours on hard, rutted meadow ground. Laying back on his bed he looked around for his goblet. He spotted it on the dresser next to the door.
`Accio Goblet!' He said pointing his wand, catching the pewter cup as it reached his hand. He aimed his wand into the goblet. `Aguamenti!'
The goblet filled with water and Harry drank greedily, realising how thirsty walking in the sun had made him. I wonder what the charm for Fire Whiskey would be, he wondered. Dumbledore made mead out of thin air at Privet Drive so it must be possible. Imagine - Butterbeer on wand! He made a mental note to look up such possibilities on his next jaunt to Hogwarts.
The night rolled in. Harry was still holed up, quite undisturbed and quite content to fume, in the attic room. He was reminded forcibly of a Christmas at Grimmauld Place where a similar situation had existed, except on that occasion Harry had done it believing he was likely to be overtaken by Voldemort and kill all those in his path. It was with an almost amusing sense of déjà vu that Harry heard a small knock on his door around ten o'clock.
`I'm coming in whether you like it or not, Harry,' said Hermione's voice through the door. `I'm only knocking in case you're changing, in which case you might want to make yourself decent.'
Harry pretended to be immersed in the first book he could lay his hands on. He almost groaned in disappointment when he saw which one it was.
`Either you love that book so much you know it by heart,' said Hermione coming in, `or you're trying to hide from me, and doing a poor job of it.'
Harry gave in and tossed aside Flying with the Cannons as Hermione closed the door and made her way across the room. She was balancing a tray with some cold meat sandwiches, a goblet of frothy Butterbeer and a slice or Pumpkin Pie. It was the sight of food, and the accompanying rumble of Harry's stomach, that begrudgingly destroyed any protest he had to Hermione's presence.
`I brought you something to eat, as you generally try to go on hunger strike whenever you get your knickers in a twist,' she said sitting down on the bed and smirking.
`I do not have my knickers in a twist!' Harry protested, reaching for the tray Hermione laid down.
`Well at least you admit to wearing them, which is a start,' said Hermione, smirking even more.
`Oh ha ha, very funny,' said Harry. `Been thinking that one up all night, have you?'
`Yeah, did you like it?'
`No,' said Harry, cramming a sandwich in his mouth.
`Oh well. Anyway, I think we should have a little talk about your temper, Harry,' said Hermione, hitching up her knees.
`You do, do you?' said Harry with a gulp. `And I think we should have a chat about your loyalties.'
`Meaning what?' she demanded.
`Meaning that you're either with me or against me,' Harry answered. `I'm the one making the decisions and either you go with me on them or you don't.'
`Oh, I thought you meant something else.'
`What else could I mean?'
`Oh come on, Harry. We both know that you aren't happy about Ron and me.'
`What makes you think that?' said Harry, thrown by Hermione's briskness. `You're my two best friends, I'm happy for you.'
`Really?' said Hermione raising her eyebrows. `What about all the "you two do this" and "you two go off there" comments? Nothing in them is there?'
`No, nothing,' Harry said, though not quite meeting Hermione's eye.
`And what about all this running off alone? Is it really that hard to be around us?'
`I do find other things more comfortable, I wont lie.'
`Like what?' Hermione pressed. `What's more comfortable than being around your best friends?'
`Um - the Cruciatus Curse?' Harry joked. `It isn't easy being around you two when you're like you are. For someone so clever I'm surprised you haven't worked that out.'
`Worked what out?' said Hermione, hitching a starkly different look onto her face than she'd been wearing so far.
`That's its awkward for me to be around you,' Harry replied plainly.
`W-why is it awkward for you?' Hermione asked uncertainly. Harry looked quizzically at her. `Well, either you don't like me and Ron being - er - closer, or you just don't like feeling excluded from something. Either way you're being silly.'
`Do you think?' asked Harry.
`Yes, I do. Am I wrong?'
`Totally.'
`I think I know you well enough to know your moods, Harry.
`I would have agreed with that once,' said Harry. `Whatever happened to us?'
The look of mortification on Hermione's face threw Harry for a loop.
`What do you mean by that?' she asked quietly.
`Well we used to be so close,' said Harry. `Sort of on the same wavelength, you know? You used to know my mind; it got scary at times how much we seemed to automatically understand each other. But it hasn't been like that for a while now.'
`Don't say that, Harry,' said Hermione, her voice still small. She wasn't looking at him anymore, finding the quilt rather more interesting.
`Well it's true. You were always there for me, always there to back me up or question me when I needed it. I suppose I am feeling a little isolated without that.'
`You aren't isolated!' said Hermione hotly. `I'm still here for you. Both me and Ron are.'
`That isn't true, Hermione,' said Harry, `not any more. And we both know it.'
Harry got up and walked to the window. He was about to voice a thought he'd had in his mind for some time and wanted it to come out just right.
`I've made a decision,' he said. `And I think its best for everyone.'
`What are you talking about?'
`I - I think I'm going to leave,' said Harry, still watching the drifting clouds.
`What! Don't be stupid!' said Hermione.
`I think its best,' said Harry turning to look at her. `I have another place to go. And I think I'll be better off there. More with people tuned into what I'm doing. I think its time I went and lived in a house that I own.'
`You're going to go there? On your own? Oh, Harry - I can't let you do that.'
`It isn't your decision to make,' he replied. He crossed to the bed and sat next to her, taking her hands. `You and Ron are no good to me like this. To be honest, I'm glad; I never wanted you to be involved in the first place. You're so wrapped up in each other that you won't be focused on what needs to be done. But I am. Add the wedding preparations and all in all this is the last place I should be. Plus, Voldemort and his Death Eaters will be looking for me now that Dumbledore's gone and the farther I am from you, the safer you'll be. All of you.'
`No, Harry!'
Hermione threw her arms around him, knocking him back onto the bed. She was crying hard, harder than Harry had ever known her to. She was crying so hard that she didn't hear the door open. Harry saw Ron in the doorway and quickly dispelled his angry looks with a series of hand gestures. Ron nodded and intimated that he'd come back later. It was many more minutes before Hermione stopped balling, preferring to sob silently into Harry's chest.
`I can't b-believe this is happening,' sobbed Hermione.
`I think it's for the best,' Harry whispered into her hair, which was almost suffocating him.
`This cant be it, it just can't,' Hermione said, as though she hadn't heard him. `It can't end like this.'
`End?' said Harry. `What's ending?'
`You and me,' said Hermione looking up. `You're going to go off and I'll never see you again. And even if I do, you won't be the same.'
`Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you?'
`And what if you die? And there're things I haven't said to you? What then?'
`What things?' asked Harry. `You can say whatever you need to now.'
`Oh, Harry - just hold me.'
Harry hugged her tightly, feeling her fingers digging into his flesh. Her quiet sobs went on for some time before she eventually cried herself out. She had been asleep some time when Ron finally came back in. Harry put his finger to his lips and beckoned Ron to him. Ron crossed the room and bent down.
`I don't want to wake her,' Harry whispered. `She needs her sleep. You're going to have to move her with magic. But do it slowly.'
`Where's your wand?' Ron whispered back.
`Digging into my spine,' said Harry grimacing.
Ron smirked and took out his own wand. Hermione drifted gently up allowing Harry to dart out from under her.
`Cheers, mate,' said Harry gingerly rubbing his back.
`What was that about earlier?' Ron asked, lowering Hermione back to the bed.
`Oh, well,' said Harry, thinking fast. He'd decided to just sneak out and let Hermione explain everything later. `She just cracked a bit, you know, all the strain of the war and that. She just had to let off some stress.'
`Oh,' said Ron, yawning. `Well, I gotta get some sleep too. Where are you going to sleep, Harry? If you don't want to wake Hermione you'll have to find a comfy bit of floor, unless you wanna go in with Ginny.'
`Probably not a good idea,' said Harry. `She isn't on best terms with me right now and I think you're mum might cook me from breakfast if she found me in there.'
`Good point,' said Ron.
`I think I'll try the sofa,' said Harry. `I'll see you in the morning.'
`Right-o,' said Ron. `Just mind the left side, spring came out of it when mum sat down earlier.'
Harry grinned and left the room, swiping his cloak when Ron's back was turned. He moved quietly downstairs, happy to find everyone in bed. He didn't fancy answering any awkward questions. Harry moved across the kitchen, stopping only to give Crookshanks a rub behind the ears.
`Goodbye, old boy,' said Harry. He couldn't but think of Hermione's words, wondering if this was indeed the last time he would see the bandy-legged cat. He was thinking the same sorts of things as he threw on his cloak and silently left the house. Was this the last time he would see the Burrow? He crossed the yard and cast one last look up at the attic room. He took a deep breath, comforting himself that he knew what he was doing was for the best. Then he span quickly on the spot and vanished.
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