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A House Divided by Carbonbased
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A House Divided

Carbonbased

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

Author's Note: Here's the next installment. I went with something quiet here. It doesn't really move the story along, I just thought it would be nice to take a look at something that I always felt should have been covered in a greater context. Hope you enjoy. As always, let me know what you think.

 

 

"There's a trick to it." Ginny said as the hex she had just cast sent the wooden dummy across the field into hundreds of pieces.

"Must be one hell of a difficult trick." Neville said back with frustration. He was never particularly good with wand work. He was always more interested in plants. Many had said that he was the only case in recorded history that the sorting hat had picked the wrong house for a student. He would've made an excellent HufflePuff. He knew that. It had driven him mad for several years. It was Luna that had set him straight.

She had told him after they broke into the ministry in their third year that Gryffindor was the only house for him. He had been sitting by the edge of the lake. The lake always scared him. Always. Sometimes he would sit by the edge and defy his fears. His little victories. Luna had found him there. The others were dealing with the night in their own ways. He had told her that he didn't deserve to be a Gryffindor. He wasn't like Harry or Ron or Hermione. He wasn't a fearless leader. He wasn't a white knight. He was a clumsy kid that could barely keep his act together.

Luna looked out over the water. She seemed like she wasn't even listening, it was her way. She never looked at him, she just spoke. She said she was jealous of the truly brave in this world. She then sighed and stood up. She asked if he would walk her back to the school. He agreed. She then told him she was jealous of his bravery. Gryffindor was the only place for him. It was where the bravest of people went.

That's why he was trying so hard to learn some of the advanced hexes and spells Ginny offered to teach him. He was trying really hard, and was even more frustrated. Neville cast yet another hex at half power and let out a tremendous scream. He threw his wand down and started kicking things around him. Ginny rushed forward and pulled him close to her. She pulled his head down and looked deep into his eyes. She stayed there waiting for him to calm down. Eventually his breathing slowed and his eyes softened. Ginny smiled up at him and he cast his eyes away. She pulled his chin so his eyes were back on hers.

"I love you." She said sternly.

"I love you too." He said back before sighing, "I can't do this stuff."

"Of course you can." She answered back, "You cast a Patronus and that is some really difficult magic."

"There's nothing to that!" Neville pulled back as he shouted, "Harry used to tell me that if he could do it anyone could."

"But sweetie," Ginny said as she once again pulled him close to her, "Harry can do these spells. He taught me some of them."

"Great! Great for Harry." Neville said with some outrage, "But see, I can't! I can't do these things. I'm not like you guys."

"No you're not." She said sweetly. He looked at her a little surprised, "You're the kind of guy that can track someone through records at a closed park, or plan a battle tactic in the middle of a disaster…"

Neville stared at her as he waited for her to continue. She took his hand and placed it on her breast. His fingers flexed instinctively against her as she let out a slight sigh. His touch tingled the skin beneath her clothes. She muscled through and stared up at him. She spoke quietly;

"…You're the kind of man that can mend a broken heart and fix a damaged smile." She kissed him then. It was long and it was sweet. When it was over Neville removed his hand from her bosom. She pointed to the wooden dummies at the other end of the field, "Now, try again."

* * *

Harry was setting up the large tent he and Hermione had Transfigured from Harry's dress suit. He was breathing in the mountain air. They were in the Scottish Highlands, a place Ron had taken a family vacation once. Harry was against going to anywhere they had already been, but Ron had argued that it would be safe and he already knew all of the exits. Harry may have been against it but the mountain air was a cure all for worry. He thought that should he survive all of this he would build a house up here. By himself.

He would live in the city. But he would use his family money to travel the world and build a house in the Scottish Highlands. He imagined he would enjoy the physical work. He would enjoy the pains and the difficulties and being alive. Just being alive. He would bring Hermione up here. She would enjoy that. Just the two of them. They could raise a family together. They could…

He pushed it out of his mind. He couldn't let himself go to that place. He couldn't let himself think about the future. He might not have one. He sighed and went into the tent. He had to do his stretches. His leg was doing much better these days, but the pain came and went. He had learned to ignore the pain, he was determined to get his mobility back to a hundred percent. He would concentrate on that goal. Fill his mind with it, and his mission. It would become his life. He would have to ignore his desire to run form all of this and settle down somewhere with her. He couldn't let himself think about it.

Instead he did his exercises and waited for Ron and Hermione to come back. Ron was gathering information in a town hundreds of miles away while Hermione had decided to gather food. Harry glanced over to the book dangling out of his bag. He had read through most of the book, more and more disgusted by it with every page. It claimed that Dumbledore had abandoned his family and carried on some clandestine relationship with Grindelwald, the very wizard whose defeat rose Dumbledore to fame. The book both disgusted and captivated Harry.

He refused outright to believe the accusations but was morbidly fascinated by the notion that he might be getting a glimpse into his late enigmatic mentor. Harry had begun to wonder what he didn't think to ask him about. There was so much Harry didn't know about a man who had played such a pivotal role in his life. It made him wonder what he might not know about some of the other important people in his life. He tried to contain it, what he didn't need in the midst of war was unfounded paranoia.

Harry finished his exercises and reached over once more for the book. He stared at the picture of Dumbledore on the cover and sighed. He wished he could ask him about some of this. He sometimes felt like he was going out of his mind. Dumbledore always knew what to say. Harry really felt like he needed that now.

* * *

Anthony had been upset with Hannah when she had stopped him from marching to certain death, but with time came clarity. He saw her point and he wanted to thank her, but it was difficult for him. He had been raised in a family with much love and little talk of it. He wasn't used to talking so openly about his feelings. He had been staring at her for over an hour. She was practicing with her broom. She flew very well.

There were many things he wished to tell her she did well, but it was too much. He was in the middle of a war behind closed doors with more than enough missing leaders. He had found himself in charge with Hannah. He still didn't know how well they were doing at the job. Every morning they woke up and could see it in each other's eyes. They were losing this war.

Every day the noose tightened. The sky darkened and the world got worse. Snape and the Carrows were an ever present threat. Anthony found himself staring at a place he had always loved. A school that had been his escape. It was a prison now. His prison. He loved this school, and with each passing moment he thought he might die here.

* * *

Ron saw a family passing by on the streets. He hadn't been in a wizard town since they left the Burrow. He had missed wizarding life, but what he saw was unquestionably not what he remembered. Everyone walked as though they were in a hurry to get some where, glancing over their shoulders. These people were scared. He couldn't blame them. He knew that if he was in there place he would likely do the same.

The world was scary all of sudden. He wondered if this is how it had been for his parents when Voldemort first rose to power. He took a minute to think about his parents. He didn't let him self indulge in it most of the time, but now and then he would let himself remember how much he missed them. How much he missed his life.

He worried about his family. He worried about his friends. He even kind of missed school, which he would never admit to anyone. He had been starving for months. He had stopped into a café some time ago. He ordered a full English breakfast. He was enjoying every bite of it. He was feeling pretty confident. He had actually beat Hermione to something for once. He had figured out how to do some Metamorphagus things. It had been a necessity.

So he sat eating his full English breakfast with black hair and no freckles. He didn't stand out. It was a great moment for him, poisoned slightly by the atmosphere of the place. He had hoped to gather information, but no one would even stop long enough to give him the time of day. So he figured he buy some food when he was through eating breakfast. When he got back to the camp he may have no new information but he would have the food as a peace offering.

He wanted to get out of here. This town was choking him. Everything seemed gray here. He missed the old world and his old life, but he knew it would never come back if he didn't help Harry. Which was a great way to motive himself, if saving his best friend ever wavered. He wondered idly if he would ever get Harry back the same, or Hermione and in the dark places in his mind that forced him to think about an uncertain future, he wondered if he would ever be the same.

* * *

Hermione was sitting in the woods. She had gotten some food gathered and had decided it was time to take a break. She knew she shouldn't. Not because she was on a time table, and not because there were more pressing matters, but because it was dangerous to be alone with her thoughts any more. She missed Harry.

It was an odd thought since he saw him everyday, but she missed him. Like an addict misses a drug. She missed his hands on her skin and the feel of his lips. She blushed a deep red when she admitted to herself that she missed the feel of him inside her as well. She let her mind linger on the dirty thoughts. Savoring them in way she rarely got a chance to do anymore. Girl's are entitled to fantasize, and she was never alone without male companions long enough to do it.

She missed isolation in a way as well. She missed having time to herself. To think or to day dream. She missed not having someone complain when she tried to tame her hair. She missed having a room to herself when she had a particularly bad PMS cramp. Girls, much more than men, needed alone time. In a way she needed this quiet moment more than she knew she needed.

She gazed off at the mountains. She was glad they had ended up here. She thought the mountain air would do them all good. She hoped it would at least. They were all getting a little edgy lately. If not Harry would never have agreed to let them all split up like this. They had been in spitting distance for days. It was getting strained. As much as she missed the alone time she missed blue skies more.

It was harder and harder to find places that weren't over cast. She wondered if Harry noticed it too. If he missed the sky… If he missed being inside her. She forced the thought away. It was one of those things. One of those deeply personal things that she had to ignore these days. The greater good was robbing her of a life she longed for. A life with Harry, a life with happiness. She didn't have a choice. It was the way things had to be. They were at war.

* * *

Hannah thought Anthony was getting depressed. He was prone to worry, but he rarely sat for so long without speaking. He seemed to avoid her most of the time. She worried that he was bottling his anger. She worried about him because he never did and she didn't who would. There was a place in her that pined for him. She wanted nothing more than to be able to fall in love, to let herself get swept away by it.

She missed quidditch too. She enjoyed taking a moment to fly her broom around the room of requirements. But there was nothing like touching the sky. Feeling the wind whip through her hair. She missed the outside world. She missed so much.

She missed smiling. Anthony could still make her smile, but they didn't smile these days. She sighed as she landed on the floor. She fought back the urge to walk over and slap or push or kiss Anthony just to snap him out of his funk. She missed him too.

* * *

Harry closed the tent flap and went to sleep. He slept light these days. He heard her when she came in, but he let it slip. He pretended to sleep. She bent down and kissed his forehead. He thought it was amazingly sweet, but he still pretended to sleep. He heard her disrobe in the background. He then felt her warmth as she slid into the bed beside him. He felt like he needed to do more than ignore her at this point.

He moved his shoulder and pushed her hands from him. She only put them back. He shoved them off again, trying hard to make it seem like he was just doing it in his sleep. She put her hands back again. He moved to repeat his action and she pinned him down with more force than he expected. She spoke softly and with determination.

"I love you, Harry." She said, "There is no force on this Earth that will keep me from sleeping next to the man I love."

"It isn't safe." He said after the silence had grown unbearable.

"Forcing us away isn't healthy either." She whispered, "A house divided cannot stand."

Harry closed his eyes. He knew she was right. But he couldn't let it break him. He knew where his story ended. He couldn't let her join him in the grave that was waiting.

"I can't give you what you want from me." He said.

"Then give me what you can," She whispered silk in his ear, "I'll take it all. I'll never ask for more. I'll love you more than ever even as you try to love me less."

"Why?" He asked with sympathy.

"Because I know you love me." She spoke, "I don't care what you say, or if you say it, I know. I realized today that if we have to deal with all of this loss, we should try to create things. I've decided to let my love blossom, you do what you need to." A long moment passed before Harry let his voice, rough with emotion choke out.

"Okay."