Chapter 15: Friends and Enemies
Following his meeting with Professor McGonagall, Harry wandered the seventh floor corridor aimlessly. Every once in a while, he would stop and peer at his distorted reflection in the shining suits of armour on their stone pedestals. It reminded him of his photograph in this morning's Daily Prophet and he took to loitering in the vacant halls just to keep from returning downstairs. One of the suits of armour let out a clanking laugh beneath its visor at his behaviour, and - embarrassed - Harry decided he had wasted enough time and turned to return downstairs.
At the end of the hall was a faded tapestry of two armies clashing together; their red and white standards snaked across the sky while the men beneath them tumbled and writhed. Harry checked behind him for onlookers before lifting the corner of the tapestry and slipping behind it. There was a hidden stone alcove here, and a door beyond that the led to a mouldy, spiral staircase to the second floor. It was one of Hogwarts' many secret passageways. Harry knew most of them by heart after six years here and countless nights spent awake in his bed studying the Marauder's Map.
He followed the stairs down until he reached a small, wooden door. Beyond it was a clutch of old barrels and boxes that littered an unused storage cupboard. It was pitch black in here, and Harry soundlessly lit the tip of his wand for light. It was the first spell he had used in weeks and Harry took a moment to appreciate how right it felt to be casting magic again.
He slipped from the cupboard as quietly as possible and strode past the scattered groups of students who were laughing and chatting over their timetables. No one seemed to notice him and he was grateful for it.
Harry made his way through the hall and down the Grand Staircase to the ground floor. He followed several branching hallways until he reached a set of huge, wooden doors that led to the courtyard in front of the clock tower. With a heave, he pushed the heavy doors wide and stepped outside.
The sun was bright overhead and the crisp, blue sky lightened his mood. There was a small group of Hufflepuffs playing gobstones but otherwise the courtyard was deserted. Harry walked over to a stone bench beneath an ancient-looking tree whose massive roots were pushing aside the cobblestones as if they were pebbles. It was one of Harry's favourite spots in the school.
He sank down onto the bench before turning and leaning back so he was lying flat against its surface. Above him, the green, summer leaves of the tree fluttered in the breeze and its great branches swayed gently. He closed his eyes and thoughts of the Daily Prophet drifted from his mind.
"There you are, Harry," a voice called softly from above him. Harry cracked one eye open to see Hermione's gently smiling face. "I'd wondered where you'd gone to."
Ron slumped to the ground beside the bench and sighed as he dropped his bookbag into his lap. "Oy, another year of History of Magic. Hooray," he muttered.
Hermione gestured to the open part of the bench beside Harry's head and he shifted slightly to give her more room. She sat down gratefully and removed her own bag. She was smiling excitedly and pulled out several books.
"I can't wait for lessons to begin!" she announced. "I've looked over some of the material we'll be covering in Potions, Harry - it's very advanced. We'll have to study extra hard so that Professor Snape won't have any reason to grade you unfairly."
"Like he needs a reason to grade me unfairly," Harry muttered. He was not looking forward to Advanced Potions.
"Glad to be rid of that greasy git," Ron said, but even with only one eye open, Harry could see that his heart wasn't in it. Ron, too, had wanted to be an Auror, but obviously he hadn't made the prerequisites. Harry did not question him on his O.W.L. scores. If Ron wanted to tell him, he would.
Hermione seemed to notice Ron's mood, too, and gave him a sympathetic look.
Harry sat up on the bench and brushed the dirt from his robe. "Just think - you'll never have to make another potion for as long as you live."
Ron seemed heartened at this and nodded along agreeably. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah… no more smelling like powdered goat spleen…"
Hermione beamed and nudged Harry inconspicuously with her elbow.
"Bill said he might be able to put me in line for a job at Gringotts," Ron continued, sitting up some and squaring his shoulders. "Handling accounts - lots of galleons in that, he says. And the twins! Harry, you should see what sort of racket those two have cooked up. They're selling to Zonko's now! I bet they're making loads of money. I could work for them, maybe. It'd take less N.E.W.T.s than a job at Gringotts…"
"Ron! You shouldn't choose your future career based on how little you'll have to revise for it," Hermione interjected, scandalized.
"And just what are you going to be doing after Hogwarts, then?" Ron sniped back. "With your five hundred N.E.W.T.s?"
Hermione looked terribly affronted and struggled visibly to keep her expression even. "Well," she huffed, "I thought I might like to work for the Ministry, in a policy office."
Ron snorted at this, but said nothing.
Harry glanced at Hermione strangely. He had no idea she wanted to work for the Ministry. "So what lessons are you taking, then?" Harry asked Ron after a few moments of tense silence, sensing a need to change the subject before a fight could begin.
Ron pulled out his copy of his timetable. "Bill says I need at least four N.E.W.T.s with a passing grade to qualify at Gringotts. I've signed up for Divination - easy -, History of Magic - blah -, Charms, Herbology, Defense, and Muggle Studies. I figure you can help me pass that one since you know all about eclectrition."
Harry frowned. "You forgot Care of Magical Creatures."
Ron looked confused and glanced towards Hermione as if looking for support. "Er, no I didn't. Harry, it's the advanced lesson if you take it this year. Who knows what Hagrid's going to come up with it for a N.E.W.T. lesson! You'd have to be mad to take it - everyone says so."
"I know everyone says so!" Harry blustered. "That's why we have to take it. If no one signs up, Hagrid will be devastated."
Ron looked slightly guilty at this pronouncement. "I already turned in my form."
Harry turned to stare at Hermione, but she, too, looked guilty. "Don't tell me you didn't sign up, either," he said, incredulous.
"Harry, please don't be angry. I love Hagrid, you know that, but… his lessons are very dangerous and I- I had such a full timetable already…" she stuttered.
Harry's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Neither of you are taking his lesson? Where's your loyalty?"
"Harry, that isn't fair!" Hermione protested.
"Right," he muttered. "I'll take it myself. And I'm sure I won't be the only one."
After that, the conversation dwindled to a few awkward attempts at jokes about Snape from Ron before Harry excused himself, claiming he wanted to visit the owlery. He ignored Hermione's pleading look while he gathered his things and trudged off without looking back.
~: --------------------------- :~
Harry's cloudy mood began to ebb as he walked the grassy path to the owlery, but as his temper faded, his frustration only grew. His lack of control irritated him. His blood always seemed up lately and he didn't understand why. He should not have been angry at his friends for something as inconsequential as the lessons they were taking. He kicked a rock with the toe of his boot and sighed.
Harry tilted his head up and squinted against the sunlight. On a craggy hill far above him, the owlery tower sat like a stone sentry, watching over the grounds of Hogwarts and the Black Lake and forests beyond. He could see the tiny silhouettes of owls against the sky as they returned from their flights, swooping through the many open windows and entrances of the building.
Harry set a quick pace as he trudged up the many stone staircases that scaled the side of the hill. He passed several students - mostly first years driven by homesickness to write to their parents. They scrambled out of Harry's way as he passed and some could not help but stare at him with huge, astonished eyes.
When Harry made it to the entrance, he nearly collided with Marietta Edgecomb and had to pivot sharply to avoid her. He was surprised to see her back at Hogwarts. For some reason, it had not occurred to him that she would be returning to school just like all the other students.
For her part, she seemed even more shocked to be in this situation than he did, and she paled considerably when she recognized him. The faded pink marks on her face were made much easier to see by her sudden pallor.
"Excuse me," Harry blurted politely, despite himself. She seemed deeply discomforted by his unexpected cordiality and mumbled something that he could not make out. Mixed with his lingering anger, Harry suddenly felt a swell of pity for the girl and stepped passed her into the tower without another word. She scurried down the staircases behind him as if the building had been on fire.
"Was that… Marietta?" a familiar voice asked from the doorway, and Harry turned to see Hermione watching him curiously.
"Yes," Harry said simply, surprised that she had come after him.
"She nearly ran me over on the stairs," Hermione stated blandly. "I guess she didn't care to see you."
"Well, I can hardly blame her," Harry admitted. "The feeling is mutual."
"She made her own decisions. Now she has to live with them," Hermione declared and there was a bizarre fierceness to her words that went against her normal charitable manner. Harry raised his eyebrows at her tone, but Hermione's stony expression didn't waver. "If you had been expelled, who knows what could have happened to you. I'll not forgive her."
"It's not like she was the only one who thought I was full of duff last year," Harry pointed out reasonably.
"No, but she knew you better than most of them," Hermione rebutted sternly. "She took lessons from you for months - if she receives a N.E.W.T. in defense this year, it will be entirely your doing. And Cho! I can hardly believe she forgave Marietta - you were dating at the time!"
"We were hardly dating when it happened. And besides - Marietta was her best friend. What if I did something awful? Would you give up on me so quickly? Or would you stand by me, even knowing I was wrong?"
Hermione's features softened. "I can't imagine that Marietta could possibly be as good a friend to Cho as you are to me," she said quietly. "And it's a decision I would never have to make, anyway. I know you, Harry. You're not that kind of person - you don't have betrayal in your character."
Harry seemed to consider this for a moment before a serious look settled on his face. He stared into Hermione's eyes. "But if I did? Or… maybe not betrayal, but what if - someday - I had to do something that… you didn't like? That no one liked?"
Hermione seemed to sense that this was no idle question and Harry knew that he had scared her. Her mouth was slightly open and he could see the questions in her eyes. "Why would you ask that?" she asked haltingly.
Harry shook his head. He regretted his question the moment it had left his mouth. "I'm sorry. Forget-"
Hermione cut him off with a hand on his robe sleeve. She looked very upset. "Yes," she said suddenly. "Harry… no matter what happens, I will always stand by you. I will always trust you. No matter what. You must know that, don't you?"
Harry felt such a surge of affection for her - of relief - that he thought he might want to cross the distance between them and hold her to him. He clenched and unclenched his hands as the moment passed. "I didn't mean to frighten you," he said softly.
Something broke in Hermione's expression and she turned away, holding her elbows to her sides defensively. Harry stepped towards her and slid his fingers across her shoulder blade anxiously, brushing aside her hair.
Hermione turned so quickly that he was startled into taking a step back before she threw her arms around his neck. She held him tightly, leaning against him as she stood on her toes, and he had to wrap his arms around her to keep his balance. They stood together quietly for a long moment before two first years appeared in the doorway, talking animatedly before falling stone silent at the scene they had interrupted.
At the intrusion, Harry and Hermione separated slowly and turned to look at the two young girls who were now staring at them, slack-jawed and gaping. "Sorry!" one of them squeaked before grabbing a fist-full of the other's robes and racing out the door.
Harry rolled his eyes and began to mount the spiral staircase that circled the interior of the owlery. Hermione trailed behind him.
"I actually came here to apologise," she said after a moment. "About Hagrid. You were right - I should have taken the course. I should have supported him. Ron is actually speaking with Professor McGonagall to see if she might make an exception and allow us to change our timetables."
Harry turned and looked down at her. "I shouldn't have got so hacked off," he sighed. "It's not any of my business what lessons you sign up for."
"You were only trying to support a friend," she asserted before offering an ironic smile. "Isn't that what this whole conversation was about?"
Harry allowed the corners of his lips to turn up. "Possibly."
Hermione's smile grew in response, but her face clouded over soon after. "Hagrid's lessons - I'll admit that I've found some of it terribly frightening," she explained. "And after Grawp… well, I didn't care for the idea of two more years of it. I suppose not all of us can be as ceaselessly brave as you are."
Harry frowned. "That's not true. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known."
Hermione smiled at him. "There are different kinds of bravery, Harry."
Harry shook his head and continued up the stairs. He found Hedwig in her usual spot near an open window. Her head was hidden beneath her wing as she dozed, but she perked up when she sensed his presence and swiveled to look at him. She hooted at him twice and puffed her feathers.
"She came to visit me at breakfast," Harry explained unnecessarily as he reached to stroke Hedwig's white plumage. "I figured I ought to return the favour."
"She was good company," Hermione complimented, smoothing her hand over the owl's wing. "She likes bacon."
"Well, she usually eats live mice. Bacon has to be an improvement."
Hermione laughed as Hedwig preened from all the attention, swiveling her head and hooting softly. "Oh, I nearly forgot," Hermione said after a few moments. "What did Professor McGonagall want?"
Harry stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers and leaned against the windowsill. "She wanted me to captain the Quidditch team."
Hermione looked thrilled. "Harry, that's wonderful!" she beamed. "I rather thought she would pick you - you're certainly the best choice - but I'm so glad to hear it! Oh! Are you wearing your badge?"
Without waiting for an answer, she took hold of the front of his robe and smoothed it against his chest, revealing the small, gold badge. She straightened it between her thumb and forefinger before stepping back and smiling. "You'll have lots of privileges now, just like prefects! You're allowed out past curfew and you can use the prefects' bathroom. It's amazing! Just wait until you see it, Harry…"
"I have seen it."
Hermione looked startled by this. "But… how?"
"I spy on girls as they bathe."
Hermione's mouth dropped open before she noticed that Harry's lips were twitching to keep from smiling. "Harry, don't be crude," she chided, but she smiled despite herself.
"It was in fourth year," Harry admitted. "Cedric told me the password, actually. It's where I took the egg to hold it underwater."
"You never told me that," Hermione said, surprised. "Cedric told you how to open the egg?"
Harry nodded and turned to look out the window. It was strange to speak of Cedric Diggory after everything that had happened. "Before the first task, I told him about the dragons," he explained. "He was the only one who didn't know about them - it wasn't fair."
"And in return, he helped you with the egg?" Hermione surmised.
"Yeah. It turned out that Moody was playing us both for bricks, of course. He was behind me finding out about the dragons, and he was the one who revealed the secret to opening the egg to Cedric, banking on the fact that he would tell me to settle his debt."
Hermione chewed her lip thoughtfully. "It's scary to think that Crouch could pretend to be someone else so well that no one could tell the difference - not even Professor Dumbledore."
"I dunno," Harry mused. "Ron and I managed to put it past Malfoy that we were Crabbe and Goyle for an hour, and we were less than useless as actors. Polyjuice Potion is a powerful thing. I reckon it's likely to fool more than most."
"Fooling someone for an hour or even a day is one thing, but fooling someone for an entire school year is quite another," Hermione pointed out.
"Yeah, but Moody isn't exactly sociable, is he? How would you suss out when someone is not acting themselves when you don't know them well enough to tell the difference? I can't imagine Mad-Eye has many friends."
Hermione sighed and shook her head. "I don't know. I suspect it's a huge problem in the Ministry - people pretending to be who they aren't. There are a lot of awful things you could do with that sort of anonymity."
"But brewing Polyjuice isn't exactly as easy as opening a bag of crisps," Harry countered. "It's probably beyond most people."
"We managed to brew some in second year," Hermione reminded mildly.
Harry crossed his arms. "There was no 'we' about it. You brewed it, Hermione. Ron and I would probably still bollox it all up if we tried it, and we've had three extra years of potions."
Hermione shook her head at the veiled compliment but smiled anyway. "We should probably go see what Ron found out about the timetables. I told him I'd meet him in the common room if I managed to catch up to you."
Harry smoothed his hand over Hedwig's feathers one last time before moving to head down the stairs. Hermione caught his sleeve suddenly and he looked back to see her regarding him seriously. "Harry… about what you said downstairs," she began haltingly. "You do know you could talk to me about anything, don't you? I know you have secrets. And you don't have to share them, but I hope you know… I would never betray your trust."
Harry felt something squirm inside of him and, for a moment, the temptation to share the Prophecy with her was nearly overwhelming. If anyone could help him understand it better - if anyone could make him stop thinking about it with a morbid ceaselessness - it would be Hermione.
But he could not be that selfish. Not to Hermione.
"I do trust you. Don't think otherwise," he said after a few silent moments. She seemed to wait to see if he would say anything more, but when he didn't, she nodded slowly and let go of his sleeve. She did not press him about his answer, and, together, they began the long hike back to the castle.
~: --------------------------- :~
"No luck," Ron moaned from his spot slouched in the overstuffed chair near the Gryffindor fireplace. "And worse, she made me sit through a lecture on how prefects are supposed to set a better example for the other students - not ask for special privileges. Complete tosh, it was."
Hermione sighed and sat down on the couch. "I suppose I didn't really believe that Professor McGonagall would let us change our timetables after that speech she gave in the Great Hall."
Ron glared at her. "Then why did you make me go talk to her if you didn't think she'd do it?"
"There was no reason not to try!" Hermione defended. "If she had said yes, the result would have been well-worth the effort, wouldn't it?"
"Speak for yourself," he muttered.
"Regardless," Harry interrupted, grabbing a high-backed wooden chair from the nearby table and setting it in front of the fire. He faced it backwards and straddled it, crossing his arms over the top of the chair back. "I'm glad you asked, mate. Even if it didn't work out."
Ron relaxed and nodded. "I hope Hagrid won't be upset when he finds out…"
"Harry will be there, at least," Hermione offered.
"Better you than me," Ron joked, smirking at Harry. "Hagrid's great, but I imagine he'll have a family of 'misunderstood' Chimaeras for you to try to cuddle this year. It'll be a grand time when they try to tear you limb from limb while Hagrid has you bottle-feeding them."
"At least I don't have to take History of Magic," Harry shot back. "Try not to drool all over yourself without me around to wake you up during lectures."
Ron frowned. "Bugger, you're not taking History of Magic? What about Herbology or Divination?"
"I'm shut of Herbology, too, but I'm still taking Divination."
Ron looked torn between being relieved and disappointed. "Hermione, you're taking Herbology, aren't you?"
She shook her head and placed her bookbag in her lap. "No. You'll just have to take your own notes this year."
"Bloody hell!" he groaned. "What about History of Magic? You're the only person who actually likes that course - you're still taking it, right?"
"I'm still taking History of Magic, but you'll not be copying my essays this year, Ron. You'll never learn anything if you don't complete the work yourself," Hermione informed smoothly.
Ron's mouth dropped open at this proclamation. Hermione gave him a defiant look and began to pull out several rolls of parchment. Ron seemed to realise that arguing with her when she was in this type of mood would be a futile effort. He wisely kept any comments to himself for the time being.
"Honestly, why do the two of you persist in taking Divination?" Hermione huffed after fishing out a new quill and inkpot. "Besides being nonsense, it's a complete waste of time and has no educational value."
"Because it's easy," Ron said slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child.
Hermione glared at him and turned questioningly to Harry. He rolled his shoulder but said nothing, refusing to meet her eyes. Her expression was instantly wary.
"What's all this, then?" Harry said before she could think too long on his non-response. He gestured to her quill and parchment. "You've already finished all your essays…"
Hermione frowned at his change of subject, but knew better than to question him right then. "Actually, I thought we might go over the Sorting Hat's song. If we put our heads together, maybe we can make sense of it?"
"The only sense you'll make out of it is that hats shouldn't be allowed to speak," Ron muttered.
"Ron, this is important!" Hermione exclaimed. "The hat has no reason to play tricks or scare us idly. It warned us last year and no one listened. We ought to have more care this time around. What if it could somehow help Harry?"
Ron looked somewhat chastened at this. "What did it say, again?"
Hermione unrolled her copy of the hat's song and repeated it slowly. When she was finished, the three friends sat in silence, each contemplating the words. Harry had a rather good idea what the whole thing meant, but he wasn't about to say so.
"It doesn't really make much sense, does it?" Ron said, tapping his fingers against his lips. "Time lamps and all that, I mean. It's a bit wonky, if you ask me. Hey, you're not still having a go with that Timeturner, are you, Hermione?"
"No," she said stiffly. "And the Timeturner wasn't a lamp, anyway. It's an hourglass. Besides, don't you remember? All the Timeturners were destroyed during our… well, when we went to Ministry."
"Er - right," Ron mumbled. He pointed at a line on Hermione's parchment. "And this stuff about wayward sons and destiny and all that? Naff, that is. Maybe the hat is having a go at us? Wants us to think there's some big meaning to this, but then goes off and sits in his shelf all year giggling about making us think he's so smart?"
Hermione's tight expression clearly illustrated what she thought of that theory. "Ron - can't you think of anyone whom the hat might be talking about?" she asked, clearly leading him towards an answer. "Someone with a destiny… a wayward son?"
"You mean besides Harry?" Ron laughed, but after a few minutes of stony silence, he realised no one was laughing with him. "Er, you don't think… it's actually about Harry, do you?" he asked hesitantly.
Hermione did not answer, but it was clear from her expression that she believed it was.
"Can we not do this?" Harry asked abruptly. "I get that you're trying to help me, and I appreciate it - I really do. But all it's saying is that horrible things are going to happen and we should be prepared for that. Well… everyone knows Voldemort's back now. If you're not expecting horrible things to happen, you're not exactly frantic with brains, are you?"
Ron cringed at the mention of Voldemort, but, to his credit, he did not comment on Harry's usage of the name.
"If something is going to happen," Hermione began gently, looking Harry right in the eye, "wouldn't you rather know ahead of time, so you can be sure you're ready?"
Harry leaned his chin against his folded arms on the chair back and closed his eyes. "Be ready how?" he asked softly. "Does knowing something awful is going to happen make it easier to take when it does? Or does it just make all the days leading up to it harder to get through?"
Hermione clearly did not know what to say to this and turned to stare into the fire. Ron picked absently at a loose thread on his robes.
"Let's just say - we'll all look out for each other this year," Harry said at last.
"We always do, mate," Ron said after a moment, nodding agreeably.
"Yes," Hermione said, offering a small smile. "And we always will."
The three leaned towards each other in their seats, seemingly reaffirming their bond. They each nodded as if a pact had been struck and smiled the familiar, private smiles of very close friends.
"That's settled, then," Ron announced. He sank back into his seat and rubbed his hands over the arms of the chair. "Now… which one of you is going to let me copy their summer Charms essay?"
Hermione made an exasperated noise before standing up, scooping her things into her bag, and marching up the stairs to the girl's dormitory without another word.
"What'd I say?" Ron asked, watching her departing form incredulously. Harry did his best to hide his grin.