Chapter 9
Harry was on tenterhooks all evening. He couldn't decide which set of feelings was worse; the highly anxious set where he didn't know quite what to expect, or the terrifically excited set where he still didn't know what Hermione had planned but was eager to find out just the same. What did concern him was the frequency of highly impure thoughts he kept having.
He remembered during fourth year Ron having, what recovering alcoholics call, `a moment of clarity' and realising Hermione was a girl. Harry felt he was experiencing something similar. He had never noticed before the succulently seductive sway in Hermione's hips, something which surprised him greatly as he'd noticed it another girls. It was mesmerising and he knew Hermione had caught him gawping at her several times during the course of the day. He tried to drive it from his mind first by thinking about Horcruxes, which proved too frustrating to concentrate on, then by polishing his broomstick which he had transported, along with all his other possessions, to Grimmauld Place when he had left Privet Drive. The action of polishing, however, caused Hermione to burst out laughing and Harry, quickly cottoning on, packed away his things and sat in an embarrassed silence until they had dinner.
They had something of a minor feast that evening. Plates of sausages, chicken, steak, peas, chips and several other things Harry weren't quite sure of filled the kitchen table. Hermione looked very pleased with herself; she had asked Mrs Weasley to teach her the spells which made food cook itself, and this was the first time she had got it right. Harry, who had learned that people liked to be appreciated after hard work, offered his praise.
`Wow, Hermione,' he said. `This looks superb. It's like a mini-Hogwarts.'
`Thanks, Harry,' she beamed. `That's exactly what I was trying for!'
Harry, finding himself oddly undone by her radiant smile, merely grinned back and sat down. He pulled several of the plates towards himself and began to fill the platter in front of him. After tentatively sampling several of the wares on offer he quickly discovered that it all tasted quite as good as it looked. Hermione was wearing a sort of waiting-for-approval look and Harry swallowed quickly.
`This is great,' he smiled. `One day you'll have to teach me to cook like this.'
`Like you'd stand over a stove with me for hours while I showed you the fine arts of grilling and boiling!'
`I might,' said Harry shrewdly. This time it was Hermione who looked disarmed, an effect that made Harry's insides do somersaults.
`Well…' said Hermione trying to regain composure. `If we get time, you know after Voldemort is done away with, maybe I'll try and teach you. That isn't the best stove in the world, though. It's a bit of a death trap actually.'
`Planning to stay for a bit once I've saved the world, are you?' asked Harry, grinning.
`Oh well - I just meant…'
`I'd like it if you did,' said Harry more calmly than he felt. `It'd be nice to have some company…only if you wanted to, obviously.'
`You - you want me to live with you?' said Hermione, unable to hide the flicker of a tremble in her voice.
`Well I can't cook,' said Harry flatly. `And you wouldn't want me to die of starvation, would you?'
`Of course not,' said Hermione brightly. `Plus you might need someone to gloat to once the paper starts calling you the Boy Wonder Who Saved the World or something.'
`I quite liked SuperHarry,' said Harry. `It's got a nice ring to it.'
`We'd have to find you a cape, though,' said Hermione thoughtfully. `And some kinky red boots. Maybe Fred and George have got contacts in the fashion world. And, of course, you'll have to wear your underpants outside your robes.'
`You'd like that would you?'
`Yeah, it would be quite funny,' said Hermione.
`Sounds like you've given this a bit of thought,' Harry teased. `Seems like you've got my pants on your brain.'
`Not at all,' said Hermione, unabashed. `That's just you and your wishful thinking.'
Hermione flicked her eyebrows at Harry and he nearly choked on a particularly large piece of chicken that he tried to swallow without chewing.
`My word, Harry,' said Hermione laughing. `You're really not very good at flirting, are you?'
`At w-what, sorry?'
`Flirting, Harry,' said Hermione. `Considering you have girls throwing themselves at you I'd have expected you to be a bit more refined.'
`Were we flirting?' said Harry. `I thought we were just talking.'
Hermione shook her head in a mix of exasperation and disappointment.
`Anyway,' said Harry. `Who's throwing themselves at me? I haven't seen any throwing.'
`Come on, Harry. No need to be modest. Half the girls in Hogwarts had your picture pinned on the walls of their dormitory. There was one in my dorm, I cant remember who put it up now, and that thing with Lavender and `Won-Won' was only because he was friends with you.'
`That's why she took their break-up so well,' said Harry, who was feeling a little more than embarrassed at the thought of his picture on bedroom walls all over the school.
`Exactly. Remember all the girls who tried to love potion you? Them too. Then there was Ginny…'
Hermione's words tailed off. She suddenly became very interested in the cupboard in the corner.
`Hermione?' Harry asked.
`Can I ask you a question?' she asked.
`You just did - but I'll permit one more,' said Harry, smiling to himself as he mimicked a response Professor Dumbledore had once given him to the same question.
`It's a bit personal.'
`When has that ever made difference between us?'
Hermione smiled. `It's about you and Ginny.'
`Go on,' said Harry.
`I was just wondering, I mean, I often wondered before just how much real affection there was there. You haven't got to answer if you'd rather not.'
`No, its okay,' said Harry. `Remember Lavender and Ron? Pretty much the same thing with me and Ginny, except we talked sometimes and if she'd tried to call me `Har-Har' I would have had to have hexed her. It didn't take me long to realise that there wasn't much depth there.'
`Hmm, I thought as much,' said Hermione.
`Thought about it much did you?' said Harry. `I never knew my love life was so interesting to you.'
`I like gossip as much as the next girl,' said Hermione, grinning. `Besides, it was right in front of me, how could I not think about it?'
`That's evasive and you know it!' said Harry.
`Why does it matter?' said Hermione. `Why would you want to know if I was interested in your love life?'
`Because you told me all the time how I was going wrong with Cho,' said Harry, `but you didn't say much when I was with Ginny and doing just as badly, if only in a different sense. I thought it was because you were too tied up being lovesick over Ron.'
`Excuse me!' said Hermione, scandalised. `I was not lovesick!'
`Oh, come on, madam,' said Harry. `You attacked him with canaries! You were a woman scorned.'
Hermione laughed out loud. `Oh well, maybe I was - a little. But I wasn't any worse than you! Looking like you wanted to throttle Dean Thomas every time you saw him. It was obvious.'
`Only to you,' said Harry. `How much time do you spend looking at me anyway?'
`Probably about as much time as you spend thinking about me when you're alone,' said Hermione.
`That much, eh?' said Harry. `Got me next to Lockhart in your signed photo album, have you? I'm touched.'
`Tapped, maybe,' said Hermione. `In the head. You've never given me a signed photo, anyway.'
`Do you want one?' asked Harry. `I was thinking about taking old Lockie's advice and carrying some around.'
`Only if you're in the red boots we talked about.'
`What? And nothing else?'
`If you like,' said Hermione winking.
`We'll take one each and swap,' said Harry, determined to get his flirting right. `But I want yours first.'
`Perv,' said Hermione smirking.
`That's not a `no' then?' said Harry, deciding to see how far he could push his luck.
`We'll see, if you're a good boy,' said Hermione, flushing at her cheeks. `Speaking of photos, though, I did have a thought. A clean one.'
`Really? I thought you'd stopped having those. You're mind's become so filthy - I'd never have believed it of you.'
`Only where you're concerned,' said Hermione. `Anyway, I was thinking that maybe we could use pictures to brighten this place up. I thought we could take some of the pictures from your photo album and copy them and put them up. I'm sure Sirius would have liked to have pictures of your mum and dad up around the house, and we can get some of him too. And you. But if it's too painful-'
`That's a great idea!' said Harry. `We'd have to find somewhere to copy them. Don't know how you do that here. It's not like going to the chemists and getting them done, is it? We'll have to find out. We could buy a camera and take some of you - normal ones - and stick them up to. And you could get some of your parents; I can't even remember what they look like.'
`You can meet them - if you like,' said Hermione. `I have to go and see them, just so they know I'm okay. They're really worried about me with things being as they are.'
`I'd like to meet them,' said Harry. `But I won't be able to say much. They might blame me for getting you into so much danger over the past six years and for getting you involved with fighting Voldemort. Plus I've got awful teeth and I'd be so embarrassed if they saw.'
Hermione laughed again. `They won't judge you on bad teeth.'
`They're dentists and they're human,' said Harry. `I know my Uncle would have frowned at someone if they used a drill he didn't sell. You're parents would be the same.'
`I'm sure they'd love you,' said Hermione. `A few cavities wouldn't change that.'
`We could go next week,' said Harry. `It's probably going to take till then to go through all of Dumbledore's stuff.'
`Do you want to go and have a look at some of it?'
Harry nodded and together they cleared the table and washed the dishes, Hermione asking Harry if she could use the spell from the Hogwarts Great Hall to float everlasting candles around the more gloomy rooms. Harry didn't see any reason to object to any idea that might make the house feel less like a morgue than it currently did. Once the plates were away Harry led the way upstairs.
The contents of Dumbledore's house filled half of one of the empty spare rooms on the second floor of 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry felt a strange pang that was something like guilt or remorse that the remains of the greatest wizard who ever lived were confined to a collection of unmarked cardboard boxes. Harry counted at least twelve from where he stood in the doorway, though there may have been more behind. He crossed the room to the first box and started picking through its contents.
The first couple of boxes were, as Mr Bloom had warned, rather mundane. There were copies of battered spell books, which Harry recognised as still being part of the Hogwarts curriculum, along with several rather heavy volumes with long titles in old English. They were the kind of books Hermione might term `light reading'. There were books on highly advanced Transfiguration, Potion making and Charms as well as a couple on Occlumency that Harry made a note to flick through.
The first box containing something other than books was much more interesting. The first thing was a roll of parchment so long it was almost a scroll, containing an alphabetical list of spells not even Hermione had seen during all her travels through the Hogwarts library.
`He must have made all these up himself!' she exclaimed whilst looking at a spell to create everlasting liquorice wands. `And it must have been when he was much younger. Look how yellow the parchment is. And his writing is different; it was definitely more loopy then this in every letter I've seen in his handwriting. There's enough spells here to make an entire book.'
`I'll keep it as back up for the day my money dries up,' said Harry. `I'm sure it'd be a bestseller.'
`Look at this one, Harry,' said Hermione pointing at the list. `It's a spell to make you invisible.'
`It says reflection, doesn't it?' said Harry, reading over her shoulder. `What does it say?'
`It says that the spell makes the user reflect his background, thus making him invisible. If anyone saw you they'd just see the background you were reflecting. I suppose if you moved, and it was bright enough, you might see a shimmer or something, but it would be so effective in the dark.'
`I remember him telling me he didn't need a cloak to become invisible,' said Harry, recollecting his first year at Hogwarts. `This must be how he did it.'
They spent much of the next hour poring over this list, reading about all the spells Dumbledore had invented. Lots seemed quite silly to Harry; there were lots of sweet-related spells, several personal grooming charms (including a hair-tidying spell Harry had his eye on), a few for domestic jobs and an extensive list of defensive spells. Almost all of them were non-verbal. Learning them, Harry felt, would probably take him until he was Dumbledore's age.
The next box was taller than the others, the reason for this becoming quickly apparent.
`Fawkes' perch,' said Harry sorrowfully, taking out the wooden stand which for so long had been the home of Dumbledore's pet. `I suppose it couldn't stay in the school, could it.'
`Poor Fawkes, he must have been tied to Dumbledore somehow. As soon as he died, Fawkes had nothing left to live for.'
Moving swiftly on Harry opened the next box. Inside he found a leather case with quite bulky contents.
`What is that?' asked Hermione as Harry reached inside.
`I don't believe it!' said Harry. `It's a bowling ball!'
Sure enough Harry was holding a large, glittering red ball, his fingers poking into evenly spaced holes.
`Why would Dumbledore have a bowling ball?' asked Hermione.
`He loved ten-pin bowling,' said Harry. `It's on the back of his Chocolate Frog card. I memorised it after what happened in first year. It was one of his hobbies.'
`And this was another one,' said Hermione, who had just found the biggest bag of sherbet lemons Harry had ever seen.
`Shall we have one?' said Hermione.
`How about one each?' said Harry, grinning.
Hermione took out one of the yellow sweets and offered it to Harry.
`You have that one,' said Harry. `I think my hand is stuck in this ball.'
Hermione unwrapped the sweet. `Here, open your mouth.'
Uncertainly, Harry did as he was told. Hermione, whose hands Harry could see trembling a little, went to pop the sherbet lemon into Harry's waiting mouth. As she did so, Harry closed his mouth a little too quickly and ended up catching the end of Hermione's finger in between his lips.
Harry felt like what happened next was a sort of out of body experience. Hermione stepped forward, drawing her finger very slowly from Harry's lips but moving her hand to the side of his face. Harry wanted to speak but his mouth had gone strangely dry, a sensation amplified by the fizzing sherbet on his tongue.
`Sorry, Harry,' said Hermione huskily. `I've decided I wanted that one.'
She stepped closer still. Her body was touching the bowling ball, which Harry was unable to move. He could feel his arm being brushed down to his side as Hermione continued to prowl towards him, then the ball fell from his fingers and bounced across the wooden floor. By this time Hermione's hand had moved to cup Harry's head just below his ear, a part of his body, it turned out, which was highly sensitive. With the tingling electricity he was experiencing Harry felt he could have powered a small country for a couple of days.
`He-Hermione…'
`Shhh,' she replied, pressing her finger to his lips. Harry was now breathing so hard and so irregularly that it would have been uncomfortable were it not for the situation. She was now inches from his face, her body pressed fully into his causing all parts of him to act completely independent of both each other and his mind. Certain parts of this were too embarrassing for words and Harry felt it was rather unlucky that Hermione noticed this too.
`I don't need to ask if you want this to happen, then?' she said, her eyes flickering downwards. Harry couldn't have answered even if he had been able to think of some kind of reply. Hermione gently eased Harry's head down, as he was considerably taller than her. He was about to close his eyes when suddenly -
BOOM! BOOM!
Thunderous knocks were battering the front door and echoing through the house. In a split second the atmosphere was shattered and Hermione was composing herself as she was crossing the room. Harry followed as she made her way to the front door. Hagrid was standing there, his beetle-like eyes crinkled with emotion, though Harry couldn't decide if it was anger or sorrow that they showed.
`Hagrid? What is it?' asked Hermione, alarmed by Hagrid's wild appearance. `What's happened?'
`There's been an attack,' said Hagrid, his voice cracking. `An attack at the Burrow.'
`An attack?' said Harry. `What kind of attack? The Death Eaters?'
Hagrid nodded.
`Is anyone hurt?' asked Hermione. `Is everyone okay?'
`No,' said Hagrid quietly. `No they're not. Someone's dead.'
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