Harry Potter and the Never Yielding Fates

The outing to Diagon Alley gave Ron an opportunity to talk to Harry alone, when they visited the Quidditch store. Harry had been tense ever since arriving, and Ron figured that a bit of Quidditch talk might do him well, to relax him and all.

“We'll meet up with you after, then.” Hermione shrugged, after Ron had pitched the suggestion. “Fortescue's for ice cream sound good?”

“Sounds fine.” Ron nodded on behalf of the two of them, wheeling Harry around to the Quidditch store.

They looked around for a good while, Ron drooling over the new Canon's regalia, and Harry inspecting a new pair of seeker's gloves, and perusing through a few of the latest magazines to let him know where his teams stood in the league.

A small crowd had begun to gather around the window of the shop, and even Ron - with his increasingly intimidating, overpowering height - had to lean up on his tip-toes to get a proper view through the glass.

“Wow.” He breathed excitedly. “That's the Dragonfire, that is, mate. Newest and best broom on the market. Water-resistant, flame-repellant, and all. Can't imagine what you'd do with a broom in fire, but it's bloody cool, don't you think?”

And then, Ron proceeded to make the stupidest move he possibly could have made in light of the current situation.

“You should get it, mate.”

Harry's head snapped toward Ron's angrily. “Why? Why the hell do I need a new broom? The one I've got is just fine!”

“Woah, Harry, I didn't mean anything by it…” Ron mumbled bemusedly.

“Of course you didn't, Ron.” Harry snarled, turning on his heel and pushing through the crowd, storming his way toward Fortescue's.

Hermione looked up in alarm. Harry's expression was anything but pleased, and her mind immediately began conjuring up ways to cause bodily harm to Ronald Weasley for whatever he had said or done that angered Harry so deeply. She had left Harry not an hour ago after comforting him in the loo, and was quite proud of herself for succeeding in cheering him up. If he was down again, she had no qualms with blaming Ron for it.

“Harry?” Hermione gently allowed her hand to rest against his arm. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” Harry snapped. “Nothing's wrong, I'm just not in the mood, Hermione. Can we just get our things and leave?”

“Sure Harry.” Hermione agreed. “Whatever you want. Just let me find Ginny and let her know we'll be leaving as soon as we've got what we need.”

Harry nodded and waited patiently, shoving his hands in his pockets while Hermione located the youngest redhead and spoke to her in soft tones once she'd found her.

People in general were a nuisance to him at the moment… everyone, it seemed, except Hermione. She was his saving grace in all of this, and he was thankful beyond what words could express that she was not to be deterred away from him.

“Alright, Harry, let's go.” Hermione lifted up her bag of books, and when he raised a brow, silently questioning why the bag was so large and heavy, Hermione flushed and answered, “We've got a rather large book load this year, not to mention I picked up a few things for pleasure reading, and I've bought you and Ron's books, as well.” She shrugged. “I know how much the two of you hate going in the bookshop, so I saved you the trouble. You can carry the bag though.” She smirked sweetly and shoved the bag at his chest.

“What's left, then?” Harry asked.

Hermione tugged her Hogwarts letter out of her pocket, and read off the list. “We've got to get a few potions ingredients, I need quills and parchment, and I think - judging by Hedwig's displeasure of delivering owls as of late - you need to buy owl snacks. Crooks needs some more treats as well.”

Harry loved how insightful and caring Hermione was. She picked up on small things… things that may have been overlooked by others, like Hedwig being angry with him. Hermione noted these things and committed them to memory. She would notice things when meeting someone new, like the way they moved their hands, or whether or not they made eye contact. She studied their body language almost religiously, and those subtle differences that she stored in the back of her mind made her an excellent judge of character.

The pair walked into the closest apothecary and Harry left Hermione to pick out the supplies. If he had done it, he'd have needed the proprietor to assist him in locating the goods, and Hermione seemed to know exactly where they were offhand.

He inwardly cringed as he heard a familiar drawl from somewhere near the front of the shop, presumably speaking with the store owner.

“Father will be around to inspect them later, Gregor, and I don't think it would be in your best interest to disappoint, especially considering your… past failure.”

“Of course, Master Malfoy. Everything is as planned, sir.”

“I should hope so.” Draco's cool voice demanded a certain amount of combined fear and respect from the average Joe, Harry noted. “I would hate for anything to go wrong. My father would be very displeased indeed… If you blunder this up, I don't think the deed will be quite as easily forgiven this time. When a Malfoy makes an order, Gregor, they expect it to be carried out with no hindrances. This won't be like the last time. Too much depends on this, and I do hope you realize the gravity of the situation.”

“I do, sir.”

“Very well, then.” Draco squared his shoulders. “Until then, Mr. Malone.”

Harry frowned. What could the Malfoys need from the apothecary? The entire situation sounded rather sketchy to Harry, and the fact that Draco had been sent to do his father's bidding irked him even more.

“Hermione?” Harry called. He wondered if she had heard.

“Over here.”

“Did you - ”

“Yes, I found what I was looking for, thanks Harry.” Hermione smiled, but a certain glint in her eyes betrayed her. It was a warning to Harry, at least until they were in the comfort of secrecy, not to mention anything they'd just heard.

“Good.” Harry atoned quickly. “Let's get going, then, shall we?”

Hermione nodded and subtly inspected the manager as he rang up their supplies. Harry was busy peeking into the back of the shop. Whatever it was the Malfoys were here for, there was more than one of them.

The two of them walked intently toward the stationery store, purposefully not speaking of anything of interest lest less than savory ears were present to grasp at the information. A half hour later they had both restocked on delicacies for their familiars, and writing supplies.

Harry grasped her elbow lightly and tugged her in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. He stepped in through the floo first, Hermione following a few minutes after as he waited impatiently for her to tumble through the fireplace behind him.

“Harry, hang on.” Hermione muttered, shaking her head fiercely to rid herself of the feeling of flying through the floo as Harry pulled her into Ginny's bedroom, as it was far closer than Ron's. “Don't jump ahead of yourself just yet.”

“Come on, Hermione,” Harry pleaded with her, “this wasn't just for some ingredient and you know it. Malfoy kept warning about his previous mistakes and whatnot. That has to be something regarding Voldemort; you heard how he said it.”

“Yes.” Hermione pondered quietly. “But I don't think it's exactly wise, per say, for Malfoy to be discussing it in broad daylight, especially knowing that other people were in the store. As much as I hate to admit it, Malfoy's not stupid, nor is his father. They've got quite a bit of wits between the two of them; they'd know better than to go gallivanting around Diagon Alley, parading the news to the world.”

“They knew other people were in the store, Hermione.” Harry frowned. “They didn't know we were in the store.”

“Of course they did.” Hermione scoffed. “At least the shop owner did. I spoke to him on our way in, don't you remember?”

Quite honestly, no, Harry didn't remember. He had been toiling away with his anger at the time, too busy to notice anything Hermione was saying or doing, except for acknowledging that she was taking care of his supplies and silently thanking her for it.

Harry glowered at the wall just over her shoulder. “You know as well as I do that there was something not right about what we saw today, Hermione.”

“Yes.” Hermione agreed. “I do know. I also know that we're not going back to find out what it was.”

“Hermione!” Harry protested vehemently. “How the bloody hell to you expect to find out what's going on if we don't? Whatever the Malfoys have, or whatever it is that they want, it's probably going to be used against me.”

“Us, Harry. It's going to be used against us. I already told you that you're not alone in this. Any threat against you is a threat against me, and it seems, Mr. Potter, that you've got quite a lot of threats.” Hermione teased.

“This isn't something to joke about Hermione.” Harry warned. “I don't know whether you are going back to figure this whole thing out, but I sure as hell am, and you're not going to stop me.”

Hermione was rummaging through her trunk, which was slightly frustrating to Harry. He was attempting to talk to her about something very important and potentially life-changing, and she was fiddling about with her trunk.

“Harry, do you learn?” She asked harshly. “Acting rashly has endangered yourself and others in the past. Example, the Department of Mysteries.”

“Don't.” Harry growled.

“Don't what, Harry?” Hermione shouted. “You're supposed to learn from your mistakes, and if this is the only way to make you see reason and keep you safe then so be it! There were other courses of action that could have been taken that night, and acting impulsively got Sirius killed. I'm not blaming you, because any of us could have stopped it, Harry… but the fact of the matter stands true.

“I'm not going to let you put your life in even more danger by putting yourself in a situation like that. Now listen to me.” She hissed, pulling an item that, for all intents and purposes, looked like a mouse. “Do you know what this is?” Harry shook his head moodily, collapsing onto Hermione's bed. “This is the Weasley twins' newest invention. For the most part, it's a camera. You program it to an area, and it scuttles around until it finds the best and most exclusive region to view the area from, and once it's done that, it proceeds to camouflage itself into the background.”

Harry's jaw dropped. “Brilliant.”

“I agree.” Hermione nodded. “Not that you'll ever hear me tell them that, of course. It'd go straight to their egos, and I'd never live it down.”

“So how do we get it there?” Harry asked excitedly, grateful that he had something else to occupy his mind. “We can't just walk back in; you said the bloke saw you. He'd notice you if you came in again.”

“We don't need to go in again.” Hermione said simply. “I've already put one there.”

“How?”

“Before you found me, sometime during the middle of the conversation I figured you were going to get lured in, and since it's information that we really can't afford to lose… well, I supposed we'd need it. So I programmed it. It'll last a full twenty-four hours before appearing back in my trunk, to the homing device created for it. I haven't quite worked out how they did it,” Hermione said, and by her tone it was quite obviously that she was agitated about the fact that she didn't know something, “but they've done a bloody brilliant job with the thing. And I highly suggest you don't tell them we used it, either, Harry… They don't exactly know I've got them.”

“You stole them?” Harry asked amusedly.

“Not exactly. I bought them from the shop, but I specifically did it at a time when one of the employees was working the register and the two of them were in the back. If they knew I'd bought them, they'd take the mickey out of me for it.”

Harry nodded. “So now what?”

“Nothing. We can't do anything until tomorrow, and we'll be at Hogwarts by the time the twenty-four hours racks up, so we'll have to wait through the feast and such first. I'm not really sure whether or not to mention it, but are we including Ron in this?”

Harry sighed agitatedly, which prompted Hermione to hesitate only slightly before asking, “Harry… what made you so angry earlier?”

He sat up to face her somewhat sheepishly, avoiding her gaze. “I was being an arse. There's a new broom out… it's great, really. Ron's so fascinated with it. I think he wanted it for himself, but he knew he didn't have the money. He was trying to cheer me up by talking about it. Then he said that I should get it for myself, and I lashed out at him. I asked him why I needed a new bloody broom, and the sodding git kept saying he didn't mean anything by it, and I know he didn't… It's just - ”

“Sirius gave you your broom.” Hermione said sympathetically, and Harry nodded. “Harry, it's not your fault, and I'm sure Ron will understand. Don't be too angry with him over it.”

“I was frustrated with him anyway. I guess that just topped it off quite nicely.”

“Why are you miffed at him?”

“Hermione, this entire summer you've been the only one that actually kept up with owls with me.” She flushed prettily, but he continued. “It's like he's too busy… or he doesn't care or something. Everyone's either avoiding me or talking down to me like they're walking on glass.”

“You know he cares, Harry. He just doesn't know how to show it quite as well. When you wrote to us at the start, your letters were very short… very nondescript. Ron interpreted that to mean that you wanted space, or you were angry with us for something. Honestly, would you have given him anything if he kept owling, anyway?”

Harry shook his head in the negative. “Probably not… the fact was that he didn't try.”

“He didn't try because he thought that was what you wanted, Harry.”

“But you knew! You always know, Hermione.” He argued.

Hermione shrugged, secretly happy that he was pleased with her. “Harry I'm a girl and Ron's a bloke. You know how you lot act. I care about you too much to watch you mourn by yourself, surrounded by people that you hate, and no one that you love. So I kept owling. I didn't know if that was what you wanted, but I figured that's what you needed, even if you wouldn't own up to it at the time.”

“I did need it.” He admitted softly. “I needed support and you were the only one that could give it to me, because everyone else had given up on me.”

“Harry, look at me.” Hermione murmured softly, setting her hand on his cheek and turning his head toward her face. “I'm never giving up on you.” She whispered the words with such affirmation, and strength, more so than Harry had ever seen. “Never.”

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