Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related terms and characters are the property of JK Rowling. The use of copyrighted material is for non-profit entertainment purposes only, and in no way constitutes a challenge to the existing copyright.
A/N: After some interesting tweaking, I present to you the aftermath of the Ron's vendetta, the cracking of Harry's relationship with Ginny, and the Prophecy that we've all been waiting for.
For those that are following it, I've also uploaded the overhauled Chapter 2 for MEtyK.
As always, my thanks to mathiasgranger for his assistance.
Aside from the ongoing MEtyK overhaul, next up for release:
1) The Sir Harry & Princess Hermione challenge from Artemis Day (long one-shot)
2) The Pale, Ch. 2
3) The Meaning of Father, Ch. 5
Don't have a lot to say this time around. Let me know if there are any glaring errors, otherwise: Enjoy!
~TOW
Vendetta: Aftermath
================
"Well, that was glaringly obvious, thank you." Harry stalked away from the semi-transparent figure that stood before him, running his fingers through his hair.
"I'm sorry that I can't be of more help to you," Dumbledore said sadly, "but you have all the facts you need, and I think you're right: Once begun, it is often quite dangerous to turn from the path you've started. It would make my greatest failing a lack of foresight, then, as to what the correct path was."
"Makes sense," Harry sighed. "But it doesn't make this easier. Thanks, Albus."
"Anytime, Harry. Farewell."
-----
Harry sat sprawled in one of the chairs in the Head's common room. His wand hung limply from his fingers, trained in the general direction of the man who was once his best friend. Ron sat motionless on the nearby couch, his face blank from the Imperius. Blood still dripped from stone shards wedged into Ron's flesh; Harry felt no pity, and made no move to heal him. Hermione had left to retrieve Luna, and Harry anxiously awaited her return.
He needed answers, not only about Luna, but about Hermione as well. Ron's actions against Luna were inexcusable, but Harry had years of experience in paranoia. He had just recently spent nearly a year staying one step ahead of superior enemies. For Ron to go to such desperate lengths against Hermione... after last year, Harry wasn't surprised.
"No one to trust with your secrets, Ron? No one you trusted to believe you?"
"That's right," Ron answered tonelessly, compelled by the curse. Harry chuckled; he was beginning to understand the appeal of this kind of control.
"What made you choose Luna?"
"She still had a lingering crush on me, making her a better choice than other friends. I didn't want to risk the ritual with family, and I couldn't use you or Hermione."
Harry shook his head, sighing. "Why the love potion, then?"
Ron paused for a moment; Harry tightened his grip on his wand, and Ron's meager resistance was quashed. "I can't use the Imperius," Ron admitted, the slightest trace of embarrassment coloring his voice. "I needed something that would make sure Luna chose me above you, because Hermione and I haven't been the best friends to her."
"Wow, truth from you, Ron; who'd have thought I'd need to use the Imperius to get it?" Harry shook his head, his frustration building. "I'm not sure why I'm asking all of this; your answers are sickening." Harry made no attempt to force his rhetorical comments through his wand, and so Ron remained silent.
The portrait opened quietly, and Hermione led a slightly confused Luna into the common room. Luna gasped when she saw Ron's torn form, but Hermione held on to her.
"Shh, Ron's going to be fine," she said, sitting Luna down in one of the chairs. "I need to you be calm. Nice and calm..." Hermione spoke in a soothing voice, and Harry felt her magic pulsing from across the room. Luna's eyes began to droop, and within a minute she was in a deep slumber.
"I hope I can do this," Hermione mumbled as she stroked Luna's blond hair. "I don't want to hurt her."
"Good, now come here." Surprise registered on Hermione face as Harry indicated that she join him on his chair, but she walked over, absently vanishing the mess Ron's blood was making with a small gesture. Harry noted with surprise that Ron's wounds had disappeared as well. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had hoped that Hermione's abilities would spare them a risky trip to the Hospital wing, but a one-second healing of wounds all over the body was near-miraculous.
Harry pulled her gently into his lap, wrapping his left arm around her waist. "Do you know why I want you over here?" he asked, and Hermione shook her head. "So that you know I'm on your side." Harry gripped his wand tightly, focusing on Ron. "Repeat your explanations to me again, word for word," he commanded. A flush of power coursed from his throat down through his arm, and Ron began to speak.
Hermione paled as Ron started his tale in forced monotone, and she covered her face with her hands, her breath leaving in a heavy sigh. Harry pulled her against him, and she leaned into him, resting her head against his. "Make him stop," she whispered in Harry's ear. "I need to talk to you."
"I'd appreciate it," Harry said in a neutral voice. A silent Stunner silenced Ron, who slumped against the couch.
Silence reigned for a minute. Hermione stared at her feet, but Harry felt the small piece of her mind within his working furiously, sorting and resorting memories and images. With a pang of sympathy, Harry ran his hand up and down Hermione's back. He longed to brush his thoughts against hers, to show her in the most undeniable way possible that he cared, but he held back. Voldemort himself had proven how potent the effects of Legilimency and memory charms were; even though Hermione cared for him greatly, he would not leave himself open.
"He's telling the truth," Hermione allowed, though it was clear that she hadn't finished ordering her thoughts. "I..." Her voice died away, unable to express the chaos that Harry sensed. "I guess we should bring Kingsley in on this."
Harry sighed, closing his eyes. "That's actually a bit of a problem. You see, Ron did all this to set himself against you. You've been altering his memory for years, and now that he's broken the charms, he wanted to make sure that I broke them as well. I didn't interrogate him on what he'd have done after he attacked me, but if I know Ron, his idea was to have the two of us deal with you, maybe even have Ginny use a similar ritual with me to help against your obviously superior magic."
Hermione seemed to shrink visibly, retreating almost completely from Harry's mind. "Oh," she managed when Harry had finished. "I see."
"So it's all true, then?"
Hermione gave a small nod. "For Ron, yes. I did quite a bit to him. If he was studying Occlumency like you've said, it wouldn't be hard to spot imperfections."
"So he's told me."
"I-"
"Not now," he interrupted. "We can spend all night talking if you want, but we need to deal with this now." Harry sighed, again clutching the Stone. "I can't tell you how much I feel like I'm back in front of Dumbledore now, raging at him about being kept in the dark and set up." Harry reached out to take Hermione's hand in his. "Some actions can't be taken back, Hermione. Sometimes, you just have to keep walking the same path you started."
Taking a deep breath, he squeezed Hermione's hand, and exhaled sharply, pushing his fears away. This needs to be done.
"I want you to heal Luna, if you can, and reinforce whatever memory charms Ron's used. Make it absolutely impossible for her to reclaim the memories, not even as a hazy dream." Hermione looked at him with wide eyes, disbelief and fear playing on her features. A trickle of uncertainty seeped back into Harry's thoughts, but he took a shaky breath, and forced himself to continue. "When Luna's completely done, you're going to redo all your memory charms on Ron."
Shocked silence. "Harry, no..."
"It needs to be done," he insisted, as much for himself as for Hermione. "Ron is damaged, and it's mostly your fault. You started this, and I need you to fix it. Once it's done right, we'll have our friend back, and this entire fiasco may as well have not happened. In fact, Ron will likely be even better, since he won't have been carrying second-guesses and snippets of forgotten moments around."
"I... I don't know if I can do that," Hermione said quietly, looking away.
"If you can't bring yourself to do it, I'll do it myself." It was a bluff; he had no experience with mind magics outside of Occlumency and the Imperius, and he'd likely do more damage than good. But Hermione knew that.
Hermione's head snapped back towards Harry. "No!" she cried. "You can't! You'll hurt him!"
"If we don't do this Ron will go to trial," Harry said quietly. "If Ron goes to trial, he'll confess, and it will implicate you. You'll be brought up on your own charges, and I can't have that." Harry met Hermione's eyes. "Ron's entire goal here was to hurt you; to remove you as a threat. I won't let you get hurt by this."
Hermione stared at his face, searching his eyes. "Why, Harry? I've… I've done something wrong, here."
"You've done everything for me," he replied with conviction. "If Ron had come to me earlier in the summer, I might have listened, but he didn't. I saw my parents walk up to you, hug you and thank you for taking care of me. How much more proof do I need? It doesn't matter what you've done; if I can help you, I will."
Hermione exhaled slowly, relief radiating from her distant presence. "Alright, then; I agree. If, if I can heal Luna, then you're right. We should do it, if only so that they can both get on with their lives. But Ron will resist this time, and a resisting mind can be very tricky to charm."
Harry turned to glance at Ron's unconscious form sprawled out against the couch. "Leave that part to me," he said coldly.
-----
Harry watched carefully as Hermione labored over Luna's sleeping form. Her golden aura filled the room, pressing powerfully against his senses to the rhythm of Hermione's heartbeat. Snape's journals floated around her head at eye-level, and the echoes of endless Arithmantic equations leaked into Harry's mind as Hermione worked furiously to reverse-engineer a cure. Magic, the likes of which would likely confuse even Dumbledore, arced from her hands, working subtly on Luna's body and soul, undoing the effects of the ritual.
A glance at his watch told him that more than two hours had passed. The darkness in Luna's aura had long since faded away, and Harry presumed that Hermione was now working on restoring the pieces of Luna's soul that were already missing. With any luck, Luna would recover fully.
Harry passed his time studying from Dumbledore's journal, occasionally looking up to check Hermione's progress, or to ensure that Ron was still unconscious.
"I've done it," Hermione whispered as she slumped against the chair. "I've managed to reverse the process; what little of her that Ron took will find its way back, and then the connection will close." The journals dropped to the ground as Hermione's aura collapsed inwards.
Harry shot out of his chair immediately, pulling Hermione backwards into his arms and lifting her over to his chair, sitting her down. "You're done for now," he said. "You need to rest, and then take a shot at Ron. Take your time." A careless wave of his wand sent Snape's journals flying back to his desk.
Hermione shook her head weakly. "You have to be back to the Weasley's soon. They'll miss you and wonder what happened."
Harry chanced a look at his watch: 2:45. "There's enough time," he said, walking behind Hermione and running his hands up though her hair. "Rest."
"I can do this," Hermione insisted, her voice slightly stronger. "This won't take much energy to do, but if he resists, it's going to be messy."
Harry sighed, resigning himself to what had to be done. "Fine, then." As he rummaged though his pouch with one hand, Harry pulled gently back on Hermione's hair with his other, so that she looked up at him. Hermione reached out to grasp Harry's hand, squeezing supportively. Harry paused for a moment, taking one deep breath, then another. Slowly, he slid his hand out of the pouch, grasping the Elder Wand.
"Renervate," he whispered, and Ron's eyes popped open. Ron stretched out on the couch, as though waking from a good night's sleep. Steeling his mind, Harry aimed the wand one more time. "Imperio." An unbelievable feeling rushed through his arm, and a sickly yellow light enveloped Ron.
Ron's eyes immediately darted to Harry, and his face lit up in a broad smile. "Hey, mate!" he said. "Have I been out long?" Hermione looked up at Harry in disbelief, a sentiment that Harry shared. Yet the wand assured him that the curse was active.
"No," Harry said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "I need you to do something for me, Ron."
"Sure thing!" he said, sitting up. "You name it."
"I need.... I need Hermione to be able to work inside your head; you can't resist at all, not even a little bit. She won't be long, and you'll be better off for it."
Ron waved him away. "No problem, Harry. I won't lift a finger... err... brain cell."
Harry looked back at Hermione, who was worrying her bottom lip. He nodded towards Ron. "Let's get this over with," he said quietly. Hermione slowly rose from the chair, and made her way behind the couch, placing her hands on either side of Ron's head.
"I need you to relax, Ron," she said in the same melodic, sing-song voice she had used with Luna. "You'll be much easier to work with if you rest. Just relax and lean back..." Ron's eyes dilated and Hermione's aura again dominated Harry's senses, overlapping with the physical light. "You don't need to hold the curse any longer," she told him, "I've got him now."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry shoved the Elder Wand back into his pouch as though it was a hot poker. A part of him rebelled against the wand; it was powerful, but it was wrong. It was not a tool of magic and creation; it was a tool of judgment and death. Though he practiced with it, and his bond with the wand was strong, it always felt slightly foreign to his hands, as though it was reminding him not to use it.
Harry dropped into his chair, and watched Hermione as she worked. Her aura was considerably weaker now, but still magnitudes stronger than anyone else he knew; more than enough for memory work. Ron's Aura was still darkened by the ritual, but the runes were now gone, and the darkness was slowly fading.
Barely twenty minutes had passed before when Hermione's aura receded, and she looked up. "It's done," she said wearily. "There are no flaws this time; unbroken logic the entire way back. Even this last little bit's been justified in his mind as you two re-bonding over lunch in the Hogwarts kitchens."
"Good." Harry jumped to his feet, walking over to take Hermione by the shoulders. "Let's get you to bed, and then I'll get Ron back to the Burrow."
"Luna can walk herself," she said as Harry helped her to her room. "Ron will stay dazed until you're out of the castle."
"Shh, enough now." Harry tucked the covers around her and sat on the side of her bed, stroking her hair lightly. Hermione curled around Harry instinctively, snuggling against her pillow. In mere moments, Hermione was asleep, her entire being resting once again in Harry's mind. He felt odd, knowing that Hermione was effectively in two places at once. An irrational pang of fear compelled him to reach out and touch her face. Was this what Death was like? To leave your body behind to completely…?
Hermione reacted to his touch, sighing lightly, and her presence roused slightly. Harry smiled; there was still a connection. His fears banished, he walked quietly to the door, closing it.
-----
"'Course it didn't work," Ron laughed. "It's Harry, after all. When's the last time anyone's pranked him?" The entire table laughed, and Ginny poked Harry in the side playfully. Harry laughed along, hoping that it didn't sound too forced. It was tiring to act as though nothing had happened; he was exhausted both mentally and physically from the afternoon's ordeal.
Ron was completely different; the exuberance that Harry had missed from as far back as second and third year had returned. Ron laughed and traded barbs with George, displaying a careless innocence.
"I think I just needed time," he said when Molly questioned his happiness. "Hermione and I tried to make it work, but that failed; that was a big part of it. The rest was the war. Harry straightened me out, though. For the first time, I'm really looking forward to getting out of Hogwarts and getting on with things, you know? It's great."
Molly's expression quelled any remaining doubts in Harry's mind about his choices. The pall of the war had been effectively banished by Ron's return to innocence, and that was worth nearly any sacrifice.
"What did you say to him?" Ginny asked, beaming at him. "He's like a completely new person, now."
"Just told him to get his head out of his arse," he replied. "You're not going to pry our heart-to-heart out of me. Ask Ron if you want."
"Thank you," she said seriously. "It's so good to see Ron happy again. I wish this had happened earlier."
"He wasn't ready for it." Stop prying, he thought irritably. Ginny could be both persistent and annoying when she wanted to be. This play for information was dangerous, because Harry didn't have Ron's altered memories, and Hermione wasn't available to help him bluff. He held his smile, though, and resigned himself to weather the storm; only an hour or so longer, and he could leave for Hogwarts.
Feigning tiredness, Harry lounged away the rest of the evening in the living room, while Ron kept most of his family entertained in the kitchen.
"Harry?"
Harry looked up to see Arthur walking over, a large smile on his face. "Thank you," he said, pulling Harry into a large hug. "I don't know what you said, and I won't ask, but you've brought my son back from the dead. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Mr. Weasley."
"Arthur," he corrected. "It's high time that you abandoned this needless formality. The things you do for us…
"This summer, Ron seemed so depressed, so angry. I can't tell you how worried I was. When he and Hermione fell apart, I thought that it might be the end of him. But now, it's as if you've given him back his life."
We have, sir. We have.
"I did my best; Ron deserves to be happy."
Arthur hugged him once more, before disappearing back into the kitchen, wiping his eyes.
-----
Harry had never been happier to be away from the Burrow. He walked towards the Heads' dorm quickly, shouting goodnights over his shoulder to Ron and Ginny as they headed for Gryffindor tower.
"What a bloody pain," he muttered to himself. Tomorrow was a Monday; a Monday that he was hardly prepared for. Between the Ministry and the Weasleys, his entire weekend had been shot. At least something productive came of it, he thought wearily.
Hermione's presence moved slowly out of his mind as the portrait swung open. "Harry?" Hermione's distant voice called to him, "are you there?"
"Just got in," he said, walking to her room. "Sleep well?" Hermione made an affirmative growl as she stretched and sat up, turning to face him. Harry walked over to sit on the side of her bed, when Hermione reached out, and with a tremendous heave, pulled Harry over her and onto the bed. "Feeling playful, I see?"
Hermione pounced on him, her arms wriggling into place behind his back. Harry bit back a sigh, relaxing into the mattress as he wrapped Hermione in an embrace. Comfort radiated across his mind from both him and Hermione. Home, it seemed to say. This is home.
Minutes passed slowly at first, then quickly. Hermione's breath evened out, and her presence again crept into Harry's mind, rumbling with contentment. Lulled by Hermione's warmth and rhythmic breathing, Harry relaxed his mind, letting Hermione's presence envelop him completely.
-----
"Why are you following me?"
Harry stood to the side, watching as a much younger Hermione confronted an equally young Ron. They were in the Hogwarts library, and Harry could just make out the telltale glint of Hermione's Time Turner tucked into her sweater.
"What are you doing up here?" Ron asked, ignoring Hermione's question. "We've been waiting in the common room for you."
"I'm busy studying," she said, tossing her hair angrily. "I prefer to study alone for my other classes."
"Right, other classes; classes you couldn't possibly be getting to since you take classes with us."
"You're not making sense, Ron!"
"You're hiding something!" he shouted. "I want to know what it is! Tell me, or I'm going to go to Professor McGonagall!"
With a speed that surprised Harry, Hermione had her wand trained on Ron. "If that's the way it's going to be," she hissed. Before Ron could even think to raise his wand, Hermione had barked off a long incantation, and Ron's eyes unfocused. Hermione quickly stepped out of sight. Ron slowly got up, thinking for a moment, before realizing where he was. He quickly dashed out of the library, and Hermione sighed in relief.
Slowly, she walked back to her books, and picked up one that had obviously come from the restricted section, titled 'The Hosts.' Slowly, as she read, Harry sensed a familiar aura of power, the same golden color, exuding from the younger Hermione. It was smaller; certainly not the magnificent wingspan of the present, but Harry recognized it all the same.
"This was the first time Ron cornered me," she said, looking up to where Harry was standing. "I was so scared; I didn't know what would happen. This isn't your average book, after all, and I was more than a little frightened that McGonagall would take my Time Turner away. I'd come to depend on it quite a bit by this point."
"You don't have to show me this," Harry said, taking the younger Hermione's hand.
"I've cared about you for years, Harry. From the beginning of our very first school year, you angered me, frustrated me, challenged me, and defied me; and when I needed help, you protected me and supported me. More than anything else, though, you trusted me.
"I cherish your trust; I feel like I've earned it from you, and it kills me that I might have damaged it."
"I do trust you," he assured her.
She nodded. "I made a mistake," she said, her voice miserable. "I decided early on that I could treat you and Ron totally separately, and that what I did to one would never impact my relationship with the other. Ron was nosey; he always wanted to know where I was, what I was doing, and if my answers weren't sufficiently detailed, he'd take it personally. You didn't seem to care where I went or what I did; you appreciated the times that I was with you, and if I wasn't there, you weren't concerned."
Harry shrugged. "It's probably because of the Dursleys, but I tend to view the world as 'friends' and 'enemies.' Since you weren't doing anything to hurt me, I wasn't too concerned with your personal time."
"That's exactly what makes you different," she said. "You respected my privacy, and Ron... well, he didn't." Harry perched on one of the tables and cocked his head to the side in a silent question. Hermione sighed, climbing up to sit beside him, worrying her hands.
"In third year, I had a lot of study time, thanks to the Time Turner. I began to find that there were... things... that I could do to make myself better than others at magic. I started to poke around, but Ron was being annoying. I had learned how to use Memory Charms at the beginning of the year as a backup plan. My parents were very close to pulling me out of Hogwarts when I was petrified by the Basilisk. I fought long and hard to come back to school, and I never wanted to go through that again. I needed something to ensure that my parents could never force me to do anything, so I learned those charms. If the worst came to pass, I'd simply make them forget that anything bad happened to me.
"Please don't think poorly of me, Harry. I know that it's very heavy-handed, but I felt trapped. I was so much more ... powerful than my parents, but there I was, stuck listening to the wants and needs of two people that would likely never step more than two feet into my world. I never had to do that until last year, though, when I was too afraid of them dying to let them stay in Britain.
"You can see the slippery slope, though, can't you? If I was willing to charm my parents, I'd certainly be willing to charm my friends, right?"
-----
Harry watched his younger self stalk towards potions, intent on ignoring Hermione. She seemed truly upset, though she seemed to school her face to impassiveness every time his younger self looked at her. Just around the corner to the potions classroom, they were alone, the young Hermione three steps behind the young Harry.
The charm struck true, Hermione's golden aura blazing to the fore. Just as the magic began to sink into young Harry's head, a pulsing, black aura writhed to life, reaching out and strangling the spell, seeming to choke the life out of it. By the time the two third-years had reached the classroom, the charm had died away, and Hermione stopped in her tracks, looking stupefied.
"And here we have proof of the damned thing," Harry muttered to himself as his younger self disappeared into the room. The young Hermione turned back to him, and walked over, looking confused.
"Are you seeing something that I'm not?" she asked. "You don't look as surprised as I thought you might be."
Harry briefly explained the auras that he saw to her, including the effect on her spell. "I think it was the Horcrux that defeated that charm," he said. "My aura's pretty dark sometimes, but it's not evil, and evil is the lightest word I'd use for what just oozed out of my head."
"Oh. Well, anyways…" Hermione ducked her head in shame. "This was the only time I tried to charm you; back when you were angry at me about the broom. I wanted you to think the way I thought, and to like me again. I wanted my friend back." Harry's eyebrows rose, but he motioned for her to continue. "All I got for my attempt was you complaining about a headache, and ducking into the Hospital Wing to get a potion from Madam Pomfrey."
"I remember that," Harry said, his voice brightening in recognition. "I had a furious little debate inside my head about you. I had just quashed the feeling by the time we got to class."
"I was confused as all hell. I didn't dare try again until I knew why it had failed. Of course, next year we found that you were practically immune to the Imperius, and even Veela didn't seem to hold your attention for long.
"Once I knew that, I knew for certain that I'd never be able to charm you, and after the tournament and Crouch Jr. posing as Moody, I'd probably never catch you off-guard enough to do it, anyways.
"I didn't have to, though," she said, her voice softening. "You were always so very kind to me, and when I needed distance, you gave it. I went out with Krum, and you were fine with it. I wanted Ron, and you were fine with it. You got after me for hurting myself, and a bit for hurting Ron, but you never judged me.
"Ron wasn't like that," she snarled. "He needed to know everything. If I pulled away, he pressed harder. So, I started using memory charms - a lot."
"So I've gathered."
"I meant what I said on our first night back," she said. "Ron was sometimes considerate, and with my advantage of Legilimency I really, really thought we had a chance to be happy. But no matter how smart I thought I was Legilimency and memory charms can't make a relationship work. I couldn't make him care about me the way I wanted to be cared about. Every time I thought I'd covered everything, another detail popped up, another annoying habit formed, and I had to start again. I feel terrible for it; I should have never tried." Before Harry could say anything, Hermione took his hand and pulled him into the next memory.
-----
"He's a bloody lying, backstabbing-!"
Ron's diatribe was silenced by Hermione's spell, and a furious battle played out on the redhead's face. Hermione sighed, putting her wand away and leaving the room, taking Harry with her. Judging by his height relative to Hermione, and the vitriol that had come from Ron, they were back in fourth year.
"This was during the time you were preparing for the first task," she confirmed. "I was in the process of nudging Ron's behavior back to something reasonable. This was the tenth time I'd charmed him for this, and it would be several more before he was ready to believe you."
Harry grimaced. "Wow, my pity for Ron just dropped right off," he spat.
"Ron's been paranoid for over a year by now," Hermione reminded as they walked. "He distrusts me when I'm out of his sight, but he can't say exactly why. When you gave him reason to distrust you, he jumped all over it, and you were confused."
"I was angry, you mean. I expected a hell of a lot better than he gave."
"You deserved better," she agreed, "but Ron couldn't have given it. Even at this point, I wasn't clever enough to check my previous charms for errors, so they kept building. If I was as smart as you thought I was, I'd have stopped at this point. But I was still convinced that a small change here, a planted memory there, would make Ron a better person." With a tug from Hermione, the scene changed again.
-----
Hermione disengaged from Viktor, adjusting her dress to some semblance of normalcy. "I need to go to the washroom," she lied. "Give me a moment, and I'll be right back."
"Of course," Viktor said, his thick accent slurring the words. "Take your time."
Hermione disappeared around the corner, and waited. Looking back she saw her opening; Viktor had turned away. The charm hit him right at the base of his neck, causing the Bulgarian to twitch spasmodically. Viktor walked away, dazed and disoriented, and Hermione stashed her wand, staying as far out of sight as she could manage. Once she was certain that she would not run into him on her way back to the common room, Hermione walked quickly down the hall.
"You're a piece of work, you know that?" Hermione stopped, covertly bringing her wand to her hands again.
"Can you even begin to ex-?"
"Petrificus Totalus! God damn you, Ron!" she cried, storming up to his rigid form. "How many times do I have to do this? Do you have any idea at all how stupid you are? If there's one thing that you should remember every bloody time, it's to stop - following - me!" She hurled her memory charm furiously before stalking off, not even bothering to remove the Body Bind.
"Well, that was fun to watch," Harry said dryly. "It makes me oh, so glad that I didn't try overly hard to comfort you that night."
"Ha, ha, Harry. Very droll." Hermione stomped over to him, her bad mood - the mood of the memory - quickly fading away. "This was one of the worst times. I was furious with Ron for what he'd said at the Ball, and I was terrified of where Viktor seemed to be taking our date. Not for the first time, I wished that you had asked me to the Ball, or that I had decided not to be such a girl about it, and ask you. Everything might have been different…"
Harry placed his arms on Hermione's shoulders, and she looked up. "You're beautiful," he said affectionately. "You turned my head right off my shoulders that night, the way you look right now. We got our chance, though, remember? I danced with you in front of the world."
"Almost four years later," she groused, playing with an errant lock of hair. "Like any other girl, I wanted to be happy, and I held the romantic notion that the boy that took me to the Yule Ball would be mine forever."
"I told you how I thought back then."
"I know," she sighed, looking away. "Come on; there's more to see."
-----
"You have to show him you're not just a blushing little girl!" Hermione insisted, perched on Ginny's bed in the girls' dorm.
"He's so hard to talk to," Ginny whined. "I just wish he'd look my way for more than a second. Doesn't he know how much I like him? Doesn't he care?"
The girls talked for the better part of an hour about Ginny's crush on Harry, while Harry looked on in wonder. Hermione's wand was out and moving in intricate patterns behind the oblivious Ginny, and slowly but surely, the spells began to take effect. The two girls said goodnight, Ginny getting under her covers while Hermione walked towards the door to the room. Harry turned to follow Hermione, concern boiling over from what he just saw.
"Ginny just needed some coaxing, and I provided it," Hermione soothed. "I didn't really change anything, just removed her stupid crush so that she could be normal around you. It came flaming right back, of course, but it was more... mature, I guess."
A sigh of relief escaped Harry's lips, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. "That's not bad, then. I just... she turned right around, you know? Shy, timid and keeps to herself, and suddenly after the Yule Ball she's going out with Corner and cracking jokes. Fifth year she had the stones to actually talk to me, and sixth year she managed to flirt properly. It was gradual, but it was..."
"Forced?"
"A little bit. There were more than a few awkward moments for us. It's why I broke up with her at the funeral, you know. I had a choice: Either I pushed her away to give her a small degree of safety, or I brought her into the group and told her everything. If it had felt just a bit more, I don't know, genuine, I'd have confided in her, and she could have come with us. I know Mrs. Weasley would have had a fit, but I've never bothered to ask her permission for anything before."
"She couldn't have come, Harry. The Trace, remember?"
Harry cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. "After this circus act of 'hiding your studies,' you're telling me that you wouldn't have been able to lift the Trace if I'd asked you to?" Hermione tried to meet his gaze, but soon looked away.
"You're right," she said quietly. "I could have, for you and Ginny both. I'm sorry."
"No, you're not."
Hermione looked up in shock, and Harry met her gaze evenly. "You're not," he repeated. "You felt perfectly justified in everything you did. You might feel a little guilty about trying to charm me now, but you were just fine with it at the time. It's the same with the Trace: It would have shown that you were more advanced than we already knew about, so you didn't offer."
"It's nothing so grand, Harry. I just never thought about doing it; it didn't even cross my mind as something to try."
"Alright, that's fair," he conceded. "But you're still not sorry, and I'm not expecting you to be."
Hermione looked at Harry dubiously, and he sighed. "Look, I've been involved in resurrection rituals, been possessed, fought a basilisk with a sword, killed a professor with my bare hands, used the Imperius and Cruciatus far too many times, and made at least a couple decisions that ended up getting people killed. I'm not a hardcore Dark Arts user, Hermione, but I'm hardly innocent. I'm not going to fly off screaming because you've been less than perfect, and I believe that you haven't hurt me, so what, exactly, is the problem?"
"You're being very... accepting," Hermione allowed, still looking at Harry oddly.
"And you're very strange," he countered. They both laughed, some of the tension easing from the conversation. "I'm far more interested in the fact that you care about me than anything you've done wrong."
"Thanks. I don't think I have any other really good memories to show you. Fifth year was my last year of research, and sixth year I... put it all to use. I... will you forgive me, if I don't want to tell you about it? It's... personal. Maybe one day, Harry. But-" Hermione trailed off at Harry's upheld hand.
"I want you to understand that I trust you," he said seriously. "If you have problems, or want to talk about something, I'm here for you. If you don't tell me about it, I can't help. I won't ask you about what you were doing. I want to know, but not if you don't want to tell me. Just promise me you won't get hurt."
"I won't," she promised. "I'm done, it's over. I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary anymore, except learning magic and studying."
"Good. Let's get out of here, then, and get to sleep properly."
-----
Harry groaned as an alarm went off. It wasn't his alarm, he thought as he tried to rise, only to encounter resistance.
"Ah, wonderful." He and Hermione were still in their robes, tangled around each other, drenched in sweat. Hermione's hair rested in thick mats across him, and one of her hands played idly with his hair, uncaring of the dampness.
"Hermione?" he called. "Hermione, wake up. We're gross."
"Hmm? Harry? We're what?" Hermione stretched around him, and curled her fingers. "Oh, yuck, Harry. We're all sweaty." She pushed him gently away as she moved to stand. "Go take a shower, and I'll meet you in the common room.
"Yes, dear." Hermione snorted at the endearment, and Harry kissed her on the cheek as he passed.
Water cascaded down his body, easing the stiffness from his muscles. It had been an odd feeling to wake up next to Hermione. Had he simply fallen asleep with Ginny, there would have been a frantic scramble to get to his own bed before anyone noticed. As much as he and Ginny had explored each other, the notion of sex and sleeping in the same bed still brought out the little girl in Ginny, and the over-protectiveness of her family. If there was one thing that they hadn't dared attempt yet, it was to disappear for the night.
There were several times that Harry had tempted Ginny with staying overnight at Grimmauld Place. Despite all his misgivings, it was his home, and he intended to use it. It offered him privacy and sanctuary from the rest of the world, and that sometimes included the boisterous Weasley clan, as well. Ginny had never taken Harry up on the offer, despite huskily telling him exactly what she would do when she did.
With Hermione, there was no rush, nothing to prove, nothing to hide, and no hard feelings. For the first time, Harry wondered if he had chosen the wrong girl. No, he corrected himself, I didn't choose wrong at the time; I just didn't realize that I had a choice at all.
"Harry?"
"Almost done!" he shouted, forcing himself to move again. School beckoned, and with it, the pile of mundane problems that he and Hermione were responsible for.
Hermione gave him an exasperated look as he walked out of his room, the clasps of his robe hooking themselves with small 'clicks.'
"You're becoming a lazy, lazy wizard," she said, shaking her head.
"I'm not that lazy," he retorted. "I could call Kreacher to come and tend to me."
"Leave the poor elf alone!" she chided, slapping his shoulder lightly. "He has more than enough to do taking care of your pl- Grimmauld."
"No, you're right. It's my place. It's high time I started thinking that way." Hermione smiled at him as they left the dorm. They walked side by side down the corridor to the Great Hall, weathering a sea of polite 'good mornings' as they passed other students.
Harry paused halfway through the Hall to disarm a young Gryffindor troublemaker, catching his wand deftly while Hermione to the girl beside him as she undid the boy's hexes. "Ten points," he said firmly, "knock it off."
"But the Weasleys get away with that all the time!" the boy whined. "You're not after them because they're your friends!"
Harry ignored the accusation and towered over the younger student. "Why were you hexing her?" he asked, glaring intently at the boy.
The boy shuffled his feet, looking down. "I don't know," he mumbled, squirming under Harry's gaze.
"If I asked Ginny or Ron why they had hexed someone, they'd be able to tell me exactly who that person had done to deserve it. Or, they'd tell me that they were defending themselves. Did she do anything to deserve this?"
"… No."
"Were you defending yourself?"
"… No."
"And that's the biggest reason why your actions cost you points," Harry finished. "You don't hex people just because you can. Feel free to talk to Ron and Ginny, and see what they have to say for themselves.
"Do you understand?"
"… Yes."
"Finish your breakfast; you can come and get this when it's time to leave for class." Pocketing the boy's wand and his own, Harry resumed walked towards the Head Table, Hermione trailing behind him.
"Very well handled," McGonagall said when they reached the table. "You'd make a fine professor, if you were so inclined."
"Let me know when there's an opening, and I'll apply," returned Harry to general laughter.
"I think you'll be very good with children," Hermione commented quietly. Harry paused for a moment as Hermione shyly slipped an image into his thoughts, showing him and a small child laughing and playing, while Ginny stood in the background, smiling.
Harry frowned for a moment, and changed the image, sending it back with Ginny replaced by Hermione, who stood next to him, her arms around his waist and her head on his shoulder. The child's hair and complexion were darker, and it played with its father, before reaching out for its mother.
Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed with shock, her mouth slightly open. Harry smiled, before leaving the table to find Ginny for their morning walk. Harry suppressed his reaction as Ron passed him with a friendly bump against the shoulders, making his way to the Head Table. A second later, he felt Hermione's confusion radiate to him. He offered as much emotional support as he could, as he refocused on Ginny's chatter.
"… Took all morning to convince him that she wouldn't bite his head off. I really don't think that Ron knows what went wrong. Do you think that they might have a shot now that Ron's got his head out of his arse?"
"No," Harry said, feeling the same certainty echoed from Hermione. "I think that Hermione's glad that he's back to normal, but she's not willing to risk it."
"Is she telling you that right now?"
Harry chuckled at the poorly-veiled jealousy in Ginny's comment. "We can't talk, Ginny. It's more like I can feel her reactions. She's well aware of what you asked me, and her response was pretty blunt."
"That's too bad," she said. "Ron would probably chew off his left arm for her, and I'd like my brother to be happy."
"Well, let's get outside," he said, avoiding the topic. "We get few enough of these mornings as it is, and I don't want to waste it." Ginny, however, was unwilling to be diverted.
"Don't you think that Ron might be able to convince her otherwise? I mean, it's only been a day. Maybe it's temporary, but maybe he really has changed, and they'd be happy again." Ginny continued her attempts to convince Harry as they exited the castle, Harry walking more and more aggressively towards the lake. Hermione, too, was having difficulties keeping calm, her emotions spiking out now and again as she held her own conversation with Ron.
Hadn't it occurred to her to fix this when she'd readjusted his memories? Or was it too much to do?
"Are you even listening?" Ginny's voice had an edge to it, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. His morning with Ginny, a ritual he had come to cherish, was being wasted on Ron's infatuation with Hermione. Harry stepped up onto the rock they usually sat on. Rather than sit down, he twisted to grab Ginny by the waist, and threw her screaming into the water.
Hermione's irritation faded immediately, replaced by equal parts surprise and amusement.
"What the bloody hell was that for?" Ginny shouted as she resurfaced, kicking towards the rock. "What the hell's got you in a mood, and I'll be damned if you're taking it out on me!"
"You need to shut up about Ron," Harry warned, sitting down while Ginny scrambled up the side of the rock. "I didn't come out here with you so that we could spend our morning talking about other people's business."
"Damn it, why aren't you listening?" she growled, floundering around for her wand and drying herself off. "Why aren't you concerned about this at all? I want Ron to be happy, and I would think you'd like the same!"
"And Hermione?"
"What about her? Why wouldn't she be happy? Ron can treat her right if he keeps his head out of his arse."
"It's none of my business," Harry asserted. "If Hermione wants it, fine; if she doesn't, fine."
"But she's likely to just say no right away," Ginny pressed. "If she does that, it'll crush Ron, and that'll be the end of it. Ron needs a chance to prove himself; what's the problem with that?"
"Ron can do what he likes; it's got nothing to do with us." Harry attempted to look away, when Ginny grabbed him by the collar.
"But Hermione would listen to us! At the very least, Hermione would listen to you!"
"You've lost your mind!" Harry ripped Ginny's hands away from his neck, checking to see that his pouch was intact. "If you think I'd ever agree to talk Hermione about that, you don't know me very well."
"Why wouldn't you? Do you need Hermione free for something?" Harry's anger roared to life at Ginny's accusation.
"I need her happy," he said coldly, "something that I certainly am not right now. Have fun, Ginny; I've got more important things to do." Before Ginny could respond, Harry leapt from the rock, guiding and slowing his descent with his ability to fly. His landing was somewhat awkward, but it would give him a five-minute head start on Ginny.
"What if I'm not happy?" she called angrily after him.
"Then we make quite the pair, don't we?" he called back, increasing his pace.
-----
Defense was unbearable; Ginny intentionally sat away from Harry, pulling Hermione to sit with her. Ginny was frantically trying to convince Hermione in whispered tones to take Ron back. Ron, for his part, looked quite forlorn; Harry assumed that Hermione had set him in his place quite thoroughly. Hermione's current irritation with Ginny was seeping through their link to him, adding to his own.
"What are the girls talking about?" asked Ron as they worked on the counter curse to the Cruciatus.
"Take a guess," Harry said, whipping his wand in the correct formation absently.
"Less anger, Mr. Potter," cautioned Professor Simonson as he passed. "This counter curse requires a degree of serenity on the part of its user."
"It works just fine when I'm angry," he retorted. "When you've done a spell a thousand times over, it tends to work no matter what mood you're in." Most of the class stopped what they were doing to look at him, while the professor frowned.
"I gather that you're angry about something, Mr. Potter. However-"
"I'm angry, right?" he cut across. "You all agree?" The professor and several students nodded, Ron included. Harry flourished his wand and Prongs burst forth, prancing around the classroom, looking for Dementors. "There you go, sir: a spell that requires focus on happiness, cast as flippantly as you please by an angry person. You want to know the real kicker? I didn't even think of a happy thought. Practice makes perfect, professor, and I've had a lot of practice with these spells."
Simonson looked back and forth between the galloping Patronus and Harry, before summoning a piece of parchment and a quill. Harry watched as the professor scribbled a quick note, and handed it to Harry. "Here," he said, "it's likely that no one will question you, but this is just in case Professor Slughorn asks where you are later this afternoon. Go to Hogsmeade; go to the kitchens, go somewhere and cool off. You obviously need it." Harry stared at the note, then back at the professor. "It's something that we did with frustrated Aurors as well," the professor said as he walked away. "There's no purpose to be served by letting someone stew. Go and work it off, and we'll see you tomorrow."
Harry packed his bags, feeling a small smile appear on his face. He liked Simonson; the professor never bothered to beat around the bush.
Ron pressed two Galleons into his hand. "Grab me a Butterbeer and some sweets, will you?"
Harry nodded, and walked over to Hermione, standing to visually exclude Ginny. "Will you get my assignment for me from Slughorn?"
"Sure, Harry. Are you alright?"
"I will be. Want anything?"
"Just grab some extra of whatever you're getting," she said. "Can I pay you back later?"
Harry waved her off. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you this evening, then." Without looking at Ginny, he turned and walked away closing the classroom door behind him.
-----
"Hello Harry," Luna said as he approached the castle entrance. "You were gone quite a while."
"It's more fun to shop when I'm alone," he said with a shrug. Digging around in his bag, he pulled out a box of assorted sweets. "Here, these are for you."
Luna blinked in surprise as she took the sweets. "Thank you," she said, "I wasn't expecting anything."
"Yeah, and I'm a git for not asking. I take hugs for payment."
Smiling, Luna leaned forward and hugged him, nearly disappearing into Harry's winter cloak.
"Do you think that Ronald is happier now?" she asked suddenly as they disengaged.
"I think so; why?"
"I'd… I'd like to see if he'd go to Hogsmeade with me," she said shyly. "I'd never have asked him before, he was so angry. But maybe…" Harry's breath caught as he heard this, but he forced himself to be calm for Luna. She did like Ron before he had done anything, so perhaps this was just a natural reaction.
"Why don't I get Ron?" Harry suggested. "I think that it's important to get these things out of the way." Before Luna could protest, Harry took off.
Harry sent his Patronus ahead of him, and met Ron halfway to Gryffindor tower. "You're the only person I know who just up and fires a Patronus to get his mate's attention," the redhead said as he half-hugged Harry. "So what's up?"
"Luna wants to ask you to Hogsmeade," Harry said, keeping his voice even. "I want you to answer, and I want you to be nice, whatever you say. She likes you."
Ron stood motionless for a moment as he digested Harry's statement. "She wants to ask me…?"
"Don't hurt her."
"I'd never hurt her!" Ron said, looking scandalized; Harry bit his tongue to prevent a retort. To Ron, that never happened, he told himself, shut up. Forcing himself to be calm, he led Ron back to the Entrance Hall, where Luna was waiting nervously.
"Sorry that took so long," Harry said.
"Hi, Luna," Ron said, doing his best to smile.
"Ronald, come to Hogsmeade with me."
"Um, err…" Luna looked imploringly at Ron, whose eyes were luminously bright.
"Please," she begged.
"Why… why'd this come up, all of a sudden?"
"I want you to be happy," she said, reaching for Ron's arm. "I want to… I've liked you for a long time."
Ron looked at Harry, then back at Luna. "D'you… Do you think that I'm good for you, Luna?"
"I know you won't hurt me."
"I… sure," Ron said, letting out a breath. "Sure, let's go to Hogsmeade this weekend. It'll be fun."
"Oh, thank you!" she cried, pulling him into a lopsided hug. "It'll be wonderful!" Before Ron could say anything, Luna kissed him squarely on the lips, before running off.
"Uh, mate? What the hell just happened?"
"I think Luna asked you out," Harry said, chuckling, "and I think you just said yes." Harry expected several responses from Ron, but not the small smile forming on his friend's lips.
"Cool," he said, walking back towards Gryffindor tower. "Maybe today isn't so bad, after all."
-----
Pondering the sudden turn of events with Ron and Luna, Harry was blindsided by the argument that was raging in his common room. The portrait opened into a war zone.
"- Can't give a damn about anyone else, can you? Can't you see that he needs you?" That sounds like Ginny.
"You're as one-sided as your brother is! It's not my job to keep Ron happy, its Ron's job to keep Ron happy!" Hermione.
"My God, you sound just like Harry!" Ginny shrieked. "Don't worry about Ron," she mimicked, "he can take care of himself! I don't mind at all when he looks out for me, but when it's Ron who needs help, no way! Let him figure it out on his own!
"I can't believe you! I'm not talking about walking down the isle or anything stupid like that! It's one lousy date! Just to see if he's any different at all! Just to let him feel like he's had a chance!"
"He's had loads of chances!" Hermione retorted. "Just because Harry talked him into smiling again does not mean that I have to 'test the waters!' Let him be happy! But I'm not some little pet you can just throw at your brother!"
"If you hate him so much, then why'd you go out with him in the first place? Thought he was something special before, didn't you?"
"You're not anywhere near subtle enough to be baiting me like that, Ginevra," spat Hermione. "If Harry was so special, why did I have to strong-arm you into doing anything about it?"
"What's that got to do with Ron?" Ginny asked, affronted.
"You were as immature and insecure as he was, and I had to push you into your relationship with Harry! I spent a long time pushing Ron into a relationship with me! Well, you know what? You're both still as immature as you were three years ago! Ron's trying to figure out why the world's ended because his very first real girlfriend doesn't want him back, and you're busy trying to get me out of the way because you're scared I'll take Harry away from you!"
"That's not-!"
"IT'S EXACTLY WHY!" Hermione screamed, her eyes glowing golden. "You don't give two shits about your brother's happiness! You only care about the fact that I'm single and near Harry, like he's a possession of yours!"
"He is mine," Ginny growled, "in every way that matters! I hate the fact that I can't see him when I want to, I hate the fact that you and he can just hide in here all the time and we can't come in, and I hate the fact that you act like you're better than me!"
"Harry's got a life beyond you, Ginny! Hell, the sodding Minister owls him every couple of days, asking his opinion on things! Do you know who the Minister used to owl like that? Dumbledore, that's who; Harry's got an amazing future ahead of him, and you should be a part of it! Do you remember that Convention that Harry asked you to, the one that he took me to because your mother wouldn't let you out to play?"
"Don't you dare speak like-"
"Listen to you! Acting like a ten year old crybaby, defending her mother! You should have been defending Harry! You should have been out there, showing the world that there's a strong woman standing beside Harry Potter. Where were you? Playing tea party at home!"
"And you were quick to jump in, weren't you, Granger? I'm out of the picture for two seconds, and just like that, Harry's got a new date to take to the Ministry, and I'm the frigid bitch who stood Harry up. Who's the jealous one, here?"
"You are!" The fireplace roared as Hermione shouted. "You're the one who can't stand the fact that Harry's closer to me than he is to you! You can't stomach the possibility that he could love someone more than you!"
"He doesn't!" Ginny had her wand out, glowing with the beginnings of a hex. Hermione's aura exploded across the room, causing Harry to squint at the brightness.
"Oh, please, Ginny, please cast that spell," Hermione taunted. "Give me a reason to hurt you. Go on, Ginny. You think you've got enough skill? Come on, show me what mommy's little girl can do."
"You fucking bi-!"
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Harry's voice roared across the room, startling both girls. Ginny whipped around, the hex flying from her wand, only to fizzle and die less than halfway to Harry as he countered it.
"I came here for peace and quiet," he hissed, "and I'm going to get it. Ginny, get the hell out; I'll talk with you tomorrow morning."
"But-!"
"NOW!"
Desperately trying to hold in her tears, Ginny brushed past Harry, sniffling as she ran. Harry slammed the portrait behind her, throwing a silencing charm on the frame. One look at the smoldering, still-glowing eyes of Hermione, and Harry walked over, pressing into her and hugging her tightly.
"Calm down, Hermione. Please, calm down. Nothing needs killing, nothing needs protecting…"
"You need protecting," she snarled. "That bitch followed me in here, wanting to talk about how much Ron needed me. Fucking cunt..."
"Shh, shh, that's enough. I'm right here, put the guns away. Roll up the aura, Hermione. Please, for me."
Slowly, the room regained its normal color as Hermione's aura faded to normal, then disappeared completely. She sniffed once, then again, and Harry felt a tear hit his neck.
"She said horrible things to me," she whispered, trying desperately not to cry. "I thought she was my friend."
"I'm right here," he said. "I was actually going to tell you some interesting news."
"Oh?" she asked, looking at him with watery eyes.
"Luna just asked Ron to Hogsmeade."
"What?" Hermione barked out a laugh, blinking away her tears. "That's so… ironic!"
"Well, as long as that's all it is. Come on," he said, pulling Hermione to their desks. "I don't have a cure for jealous girlfriends, but I have a couple of assignments that need doing. Let's get them done, and let this be. I'll talk to Ginny tomorrow."
-----
"Have you considered learning Legilimency?" Hermione asked from her desk. Harry looked up from his own work to meet Hermione's eyes. Several days ago, they had turned their desks around from their respective walls to face each other in front of the window, making it easier to work and talk at the same time.
"I've never thought about it, really. I don't know if I'd want it, to be honest."
"Oh? Why?"
"Well, Legilimency's biggest pull for me would be for an advantage in a duel, so you know what's coming. But Occlumency can block that. I can see magical auras quite consistently now, so I always have a good idea of what's coming anyways. With that advantage done with, what's left?"
"Well…" Hermione looked away, then back to Harry. "I suppose it's a selfish thing, but if you knew Legilimency, you'd be able to see into my memories and thoughts, instead of just reacting to what I send you. I… I'd like it if you could."
"Oh." Harry looked at Hermione in wonder. After assuring her that he would respect her privacy, here she was, offering him the keys to her mind.
"I trust you," she said, seeing his expression. "I want you to know everything; I really do. Please."
"A-Alright," he agreed. "If that's what you want, I'll learn."
Hermione smiled and reached for his hand, squeezing it. They resumed their work, their mental link assuring that they finished their assignments together.
"That's the last of this drivel for the week," Harry said as he tapped his assignments. A similar tap on blank parchment copied the work, which Harry put in his desk drawer, before rolling the originals up and placing them in his book bag.
"Why'd you copy your work?" asked Hermione as she packed away her own papers.
"Any successful applicant for professorial positions needs to provide original work in the area they're teaching, and with Dumbledore and Snape's books to work from, my NEWT work ought to turn some heads."
"You're serious?" she said, sitting back up to stare at him. "I know we were joking about that at breakfast, but… I thought you were going to be an Auror."
"I still think I will be," he agreed, "but I'd like to have a backup, just in case I decide I need a change. Besides, there's another consideration, something that Kingsley's already written to me about."
"Oh?"
"The Department of Mysteries is considering hiring me on as an Unspeakable for the explicit job of continuing Dumbledore's research into magic. That's not exactly a strenuous job, more like advancing myself and writing reports on what I've done. Likewise, I can hold a position as a licensed Hit Wizard, so that Kingsley and the Aurors can bring me in for backup. That would still leave me more than enough time to hold a regular job, like teaching."
"That sounds brilliant!" exclaimed Hermione. "You'd be just like Dumbledore!"
"Yeah, that's more or less it," Harry agreed. "Kingsley is thinking to set me up just like Dumbledore was, with official, unfettered access to the Ministry as an Unspeakable, and official, unfettered access to investigate any odd occurrences I wanted to as a Hit Wizard. At the same time, I'd be here, teaching Defense, so that the next generation of students would be better for it, and the Aurors get a quality boost in the coming years.
"Once I've established myself in those fields, Kingsley would then appoint me as a delegate to the International Confederation, which, coupled with my other qualifications, would pretty much open the world to me, and by extension, him."
Hermione blinked, and looked at Harry with new eyes. "What's going on?" she asked carefully. "This sounds less like you planning to do the most with your life, and more like a plan to take over the world."
Harry laughed at that; take over the world, indeed. "Nothing like that," he assured her once he had caught his breath. "We're just filling gaps in security, and at the same time ensuring that the Lucius Malfoys of the world can't use money or laws to hold me down. There are three things that I can assure you no amount of pressure could change: Once an Unspeakable, always an Unspeakable; once a Hit Wizard, always a Hit Wizard; and once an International Delegate - barring anything truly horrid - always an International Delegate. No Ministry could refuse me access; no Department could close their records to me; and because of the complicated hierarchy of the Ministry, no Auror or Ministry official could pull rank on me. Even the Minister would have issues once all three positions were in place. It's Kingsley right now, so that doesn't matter; but it gives us an edge against whoever replaces him as Minister later on."
Seeing Hermione's look of confusion, Harry hastened to explain.
"An Unspeakable has complete access to the Department of Mysteries by definition. The Aurors have no authority over the conduct of an Unspeakable, who answers only to senior Unspeakables, and who ultimately answer to the Minister. The Aurors would have to file for the Unspeakables to rein me in.
"The Unspeakables have no authority to stop a Hit Wizard from performing an investigation; again, the best they can do is to file for the Aurors to intervene. With both Departments stonewalled, their only other avenue is to file directly with the Minister to deal with me.
"Last, and most importantly, International Delegates are jointly answerable to the Minister and the Confederation; both must agree in order to appoint a Delegate, and both must agree to dismiss or restrict one, and even then only if they can prove some sort of criminal activity or blatant abuse of the position. Since the Ministry and Confederation are not generally going to agree on matters of law, justice, and security, an agreement isn't likely.
"What that means is that I don't have to answer to the Unspeakables, I don't have to answer to the Aurors, and I don't really have to answer to the Confederation or the Minister, either. But I have power and authority over all four, and to top it all off I work with everyone's children, so everyone loves me."
"My God," she said, covering her mouth. "That's… who thought of this?"
"Dumbledore," Harry replied with a smirk. "Always thinking ahead, that man. I truly enjoy talking to him."
Hermione just shook her head, pushing her chair back. "We should get to bed," she said. "You have practice tomorrow."
"Alright," he agreed, feeling the beginnings of a yawn. "I suppose I could use a proper night's sleep. 'Night, Hermione."
"Goodnight," she returned with a slight hesitation to her voice.
"Harry?" He stopped at the entrance to his room, looking back at Hermione. "Would you… stay with me tonight? After all that's happened yesterday and today, I… I don't want to be alone."
"Sure," he said, walking over to her. "No problem."
-----
"Awake… Awaken… Daughter…"
Almost there.
"Awaken."
The angels were playing rough, today. Harry dove and whirled, spinning out of their grasp as he plowed ahead.
"Come on!" God encouraged him. "Don't give up! You're better than they are!"
"Awaken!"
Just a little faster…
"Blood of the Father!"
Who the hell is that?
Abandoning the snitch, Harry beat his wings mightily, pushing hard against a sudden head wind. Angels crowded him, but he gathered his strength and batted their arms away, pushing through the mass of bodies.
"Behold harbingers! Death, Death has come!" The raspy, heaving voice of Sybil Trelawney echoed before him. There she stood, alone on a dark cloud, a blemish in the perfection that was Heaven.
"Suffering awaits those who protect the Daughter of the Fallen; the Seven rally against her, Pure against Fallen, Blood against Blood."
Several angels moved towards the batty professor, but Harry grabbed their wings and tore at their clothes, anything he could to protect the fragile woman.
"Harken to the night that falls so deep the even the Stars die; harken to the endless cries of defiance, of treason, of heresy. There, the Covenant lies broken; there, the Daughter must lie."
A feeling of immense power rushed down Harry's spine, and a powerful angel, armored and intimidating swept towards Trelawney. Abandoning the lesser angels, Harry rushed towards the greater threat, only to meet an impenetrable barrier. Trelawney's voice shook with fear, and she cowered before the armored figure, but she did not stop speaking.
"Death! Reach out, and protect thy Mistress! Shield her from the slaves of the Seven! She is your new Covenant!"
The angel reached out, his fingers touching Trelawney's chest. There was a horrible hissing sound, and the angel's fingers began to dig in, melting their way through.
"Protect thy Mistress!" she shrieked, overcome with pain, as blood poured from her eyes, nose and mouth. "Without her-!" The angel ripped his hand back, and a silvery substance poured from the professor's chest.
"Darkness…" she whispered, falling backwards, through the cloud that would no longer support her, and down, down, down.
"Blood of the father…"
-----
"Harry!"
His eyes shot open, and he bolted upright in the bed, panting.
"Harry, the bells!" Hermione was scrambling from the bed, hastily dressing herself. "There's something wrong. We've got to hurry!"
His wand flew to his outstretched hand, and he summoned his robes, throwing them on. He trailed behind Hermione as they ran out of their dorm and followed the sound of the bells. "This way!" they heard a House Elf calling to them "The tower! The tower!"
Harry's heart plummeted as he saw where they were headed. Above them loomed the Divination tower, and his heart clenched. It was a dream. Please, God, it was a dream.
Not bothering with the ladder, Harry flew straight up towards the entrance, grabbing the doorframe on the way in. McGonagall was in front of him and-
"No."
Hermione gasped from behind him, and several professors were talking at once. Harry's attention was glued to the mutilated form of Sybil Trelawney. Five blackened holes, each several inches across, were burned into her torso, and her face was lost in a fountain of dried blood.
As though it sensed his presence, the corpse shifted, its sightless eyes finding his. "Blood of the Father," it wheezed, before the entire body shuddered and fractured, crumbling, cracking and powdering like glass.
Harry tore his gaze away from the husk to look back at Hermione, who was looking at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"It's real," she whispered. "My God, it's real."
"Professor McGonagall," Harry called behind him. "We need to talk."
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A/N: And you need to Review! All of you! I look forward to seeing what you have to say about this chapter. Next up, the Vatican!