Chapter Fifteen
THE TEN SMOKES OF BRILLIANCE
The next day, Saturday, was the last day of March. It also happened to be a Hogsmeade weekend, so Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't follow through with their plans to start searching for clues in the library that morning. They didn't even talk about Malfoy's appearance the night before; Hermione was pulled off into a group of Gryffindor girls that wanted to "cheer her up" because of Pansy's comments the night before, and Ron gave Harry an apologetic look as Anna dragged him off in the opposite direction. In the end, Harry had spent the day with Neville and Dean and Seamus.
The next morning, as he ate breakfast alone in the Great Hall, he was starting to wonder if it would be the same situation that day. Hermione was nowhere to be found, and Ron had nearly chucked his pillow in Harry's direction when he tried to wake him up. Harry shoveled his breakfast so quickly that, Hedwig, who had flown in to visit him when the morning mail was delivered, started to nip at him disapprovingly. When he was finished, he decided to head to the library, whether Hermione and Ron came or not. If they didn't show, Harry figured he could just work on his Defense Arts essay.
He didn't have to. Hermione was sitting alone at a corner table, hunched over a thick book. She obviously didn't notice Harry was approaching, as she jumped and whipped out her wand when he touched her shoulder. Harry took a careful step backwards.
"Oh, it's you!" exclaimed Hermione quietly, blushing as she shoved her wand back into her pocket. "I don't know who I thought was sneaking up behind me!"
Harry chuckled, pulling out the chair next to her and sitting down. "How long have you been here?"
"Oh, for at least an hour," said Hermione, her attention going back to the book. Her eyes were squinted, and she leaned in very close to the page. "I was hoping I'd see you," she said, and then she quickly added, "or Ron, of course. I've been working on my essay; it's most fascinating..."
"Ron was threatening me with both his pillow and his wand this morning," said Harry, pulling out his own schoolbooks. "I haven't really talked to him since Friday night, but I know he thinks we're going about this all wrong."
"Uh-huh," muttered Hermione, looking up. She slipped her hand onto the book to mark her place, and she flipped back several pages. "I found something that I wanted to show you."
Harry scooted closer to her, peering to where her finger was pointing. The text was minute, and he understood at once why she had been reading so intently. "What does it say?"
"Well, the entire chapter outlines how the Affinity of Relations is established," explained Hermione, "and this passage is about `temporary affinities.'"
"What's that?" said Harry.
"It's an entirely different concept than the actual Affinity of Relations," said Hermione, and Harry caught the note of frustration in her voice. He could almost see the thoughts turning in her head. Professor Lupin had set both a minimum and a maximum number of scrolls for the length of the essay, and he had a feeling she was thinking up the best way to ask for extra space. "There are certain things that a wizard or witch can conjure that have a brief paralyzing effect on the mind of another wizard or witch."
"Does this have to do with-" Harry trailed off, noticing that Madam Pince was glaring at him, and he decided to be careful, "-You-Know-Who?"
Hermione nodded earnestly. "I think it might," she said, jabbing her finger at the book again. "`These temporary affinities are established through Ten Smokes of Brilliance. Of these, Black and Gray are most common. Both are characterized by a choking sensation and an awful, and both can temporary paralyze anyone who inhales them; however, the black is considered to be the stronger of the two. Not only is it harder to conjure, but it often leads to unconsciousness beyond initial paralysis...' The messages were all in gray smoke, and the smoke on Halloween was black!"
"Let me see that," said Harry, knowing immediately she was on to something when he snatched the book from her and reread the section. He looked up, brushing some of his unruly hair away from his eyes. "On Halloween, all those kids did pass out... and the prefect common room had an awful smell after-"
"Yes," said Hermione quickly, placing her hand over his. "And before-I was having trouble thinking clearly the second after I stepped in there."
"Does it say anything else about the smoke?" said Harry, and Hermione shook her head, so he passed the book back to her. "Ten Smokes of Brilliance? Do you think there would be something else about them somewhere?"
"Harry, this library has hundreds of thousands of books," said Hermione, amused. Harry smiled, letting his hand drop from hers.
"Good point," he said, standing up. "I'd better start looking then, eh?"
* * *
"So the Black Smoke of Brilliance had to have been what filled the Great Hall, but the Gray Smoke of Brilliance was what spelled out all those messages," muttered Ron later that afternoon, flipping through the pages of a book. "But why not use the same one?"
Harry was peering over his shoulder in seconds. He'd been the one to find the information, and he hadn't even considered the difference. "Er, that's a good question."
"Well, the Black Smoke is understandably more difficult to conjure," said Hermione without looking up from her own book. She sounded a bit disconnected, too engrossed in one activity to really pay much attention to the other. "So the person that conjured it is more capable than whoever conjured the Gray Smoke."
"Herms," said Harry, touching her arm, "it was Voldemort both times. Why wouldn't he be consistent?"
"I don't like that nickname," reminded Hermione. She finally peered away from the book, but she didn't answer his question. Harry turned back to his own research.
About twenty minutes later, he pushed it away and reached into his bag for his books about the Dark Scar. As interested as he was in figuring out more about all the horrors that had gripped Hogwarts in the last months, he also had an essay to write and O.W.L.s to study for on top of his usual homework.
Harry was actually a bit reluctant to work on his Defense paper. The more he found out about the Dark Scar, the more he found out about the Death Eaters, the more forbidding it all seemed, and he didn't want to let on to Hermione how worried it had him. He shook his head as he took out his Charms text.
* * *
"Have you finished your essay, Harry?"
Harry looked up, surprised to see Hermione packing up her books, more surprised she'd even think it possible. Ron's chair was empty, and his schoolbag was gone. Harry glanced at his watch. Over an hour had passed since he'd started working on his homework, and he'd been so frustrated by a concept in Transfigurations that he hadn't noticed how much time had slipped by.
"Er, no," said Harry quickly. "I've made enough progress on it for a while, and I needed to get my other homework done."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, peering over his shoulder. Harry didn't even need to look up at her to know what she was doing. There had been very few assignments he'd completed since they became friends that she hadn't checked for him.
"You might want to rethink your answer for number three," said Hermione, sitting down beside him again. "Other then that, everything looks good."
"I don't understand the concept behind it," said Harry with a sigh. He looked over at her, resting his forehead against his open palm. "I don't know how you do it all, `Mione."
"How I do what?" said Hermione. She had taken his textbook from him, flipping through the pages. Finally, she stopped and slid it back to him, pointing to a passage. "Read that. I think it'll help you."
"Thanks," said Harry, marking the page and shutting the book. He had to cram it into his schoolbag to get it to fit. With all the extra books he needed for Professor Lupin's essay, his bag was starting to resemble Hermione's. "I'll worry about it later."
"Okay," said Hermione, standing up. "I'll help you later if you're still confused." There was only about a half an hour before they needed to be in the Great Hall for dinner. When they were out of the library, she stopped, looking up at Harry. "How I do what?" she repeated.
"Everything," muttered Harry. She didn't catch it. He smiled down at her. "You've had to deal with so much lately, and you're still on top of everything. You understand everything and always have your homework done, yet you still have time to help Ron and I with ours. You're already studying for the O.W.L.s, and you're a lot farther than either of us on Professor Lupin's essay. Now..." Harry trailed off, not knowing how to put their quest to figure out what was going on into words. Hermione seemed to understand, and she laughed nervously.
"It's nothing, Harry," she said, tucking her bushy hair behind her ear. This time, it was Harry that laughed. He put his arm around her.
"It's a compliment, Hermione," he informed her as they walked toward Gryffindor tower together. "You shouldn't be embarrassed. I think it's amazing."
Hermione blushed, easing out of his hold. She looked down quickly. "Why are you so nice to me?" she asked, and at about that moment, Peeves swooped down over their heads, laughing hysterically. He hovered in mid air before them, still chuckling.
"It's Potter and Granger!" he called, as if it was something unusual.
"Peeves," said Harry, a little annoyed. The ghosts had made themselves scarce for the last few months, but he'd started seeing them more and more since the missing students had reappeared. This was his first time seeing Peeves in weeks. "What do you want?
"Good to be here again," said Peeves mysteriously, and he started spinning around so quickly he looked like a miniature tornado. Harry and Hermione just exchanged a baffled look. Suddenly, Peeves stopped, laughing again. "Too bad I have nothing to bother the ickle couple with!"
"We're leaving, Peeves," called Hermione over her shoulder as she and Harry started walking again. When he was a few feet behind them, she rolled her eyes. Peeves had stopped laughing, and he was now singing an adaptation of his old ditty:
"Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done,
Snogging Miss Granger, you think it's good fun-
But what do you say when the trouble's begun?
Wasn't once enough for you?
Just be prepared to say adieu,
For there isn't room in that hollow for two!"
"What is he going on about?" asked Harry as they rounded the corner. Peeves was laughing hysterically in the distance. Hermione shook her head.
"It's Peeves," she said flatly, "you should know not to pay him any mind."
"One of the professors must have some kind of debt that they owe him," reasoned Harry. He smiled at Hermione. "Otherwise, I'm sure they would have thrown him out long ago."
Hermione had to agree, and, at about that moment, a very plump brown owl flew down the corridor. She swooped down over them, dropping a pre-paid letter into Hermione's hands before flying out of sight. Hermione glanced at the owl, which didn't seem to be written on the usual parchment. She paled, and then she stuffed it into her bag.
"I just remembered I needed to talk to Professor McGonagall about something," said Hermione quickly, and it didn't take much for Harry to realize she wasn't being truthful. He'd put his hand on her arm when he'd seen her pale, and she backed out of his grasp once more.
"'Mione..." he started, but it was no use. She was already heading down the corridor.
"I'll talk to you at dinner, Harry!" she called, and Harry shook his head. He doubted she needed the reminder that Professor McGonagall's classroom was in the opposite direction. He stood there for a second, wondering what that owl had been about. Suddenly, he felt something touch his shoulder, and he had his wand out so quickly he nearly hexed Professor Lupin. Harry lowered his wand, an apologetic expression on his face, but Lupin just chuckled.
"I should know better than startle you, Harry," said Lupin, smiling. He glanced down the hallway in the direction Hermione had just disappeared. "Perhaps you should have told her that Minerva's room is just down the last hall."
"Maybe she's taking the long way around," said Harry a bit sarcastically. Lupin smiled at him sadly.
"Are the two of you fighting again?" asked the professor. Harry glanced up at him. He wasn't aware that Lupin knew about their fight earlier in the year. Then again, Harry wasn't even sure if it could be considered a fight.
"No, we're not fighting," said Harry, and Lupin began walking. Harry followed him. "At least, if we are, I'm not aware of it. Hermione just got an owl, and I guess she just didn't want me to read it."
Lupin nodded understandingly, ushering Harry into his classroom. "She didn't sound angry," he assured Harry, shutting the door behind him. "It's a good thing I caught you, though. I've been wanting to talk to you for a few days."
"About what?" questioned Harry, bewildered. He set his heavy schoolbag down on the floor, leaning against one of the desks in the front row.
"It's nothing to be worried about," said Lupin. "Would you like to come into my office? I've taken a liking to the hot chocolate the house elves served all winter, and I've been brewing my own version. I just ventured to the kitchen for a little more sugar."
"Sure," said Harry, following Lupin. He was still a bit perplexed, even though Lupin often checked in with him on Sirius's behalf. Most of the time, however, it was a few minutes of conversation before or after class.
Sure enough, there was an old fashioned coffee pot over some kind of heater Harry didn't recognize. Lupin stirred in a bit more sugar before offering Harry a cup. He declined.
"I was wondering how you were doing with your essay," said Lupin a few minutes later, sitting down in the chair behind his desk. Harry took a seat in one of the chairs across from him.
"Oh, it's coming along fine," said Harry truthfully. "I've been able to find a lot of information."
"That's good to hear," said Lupin, sipping his drink. "Needless to say, I was a little surprised when the Sorting Hat gave you the Dark Scar."
"You were?" questioned Harry, squinting. "Why?"
"You didn't notice?" asked Lupin.
"What do you mean?"
Lupin shook his head. "I knew all the topics the hat had been given to assign," he explained. "I probably should have had you and Hermione and Ron go at the beginning, even though Dumbledore assured me that the hat wouldn't forget anyone and give him or her the wrong topic. You see, he wanted each student to write about something that appealed to them or to a problem they were having."
"Yeah," agreed Harry. He and Ron had noticed that. "But why would you want the three of us to go at the beginning?"
"I'm sure you've noticed that the Affinity of Relations is a very complex topic," said Lupin. Harry nodded, but he didn't see what it had to do with anything. "Dumbledore and I did our best to chose topics with certain students in mind. I didn't think such an advanced topic should be assigned, but Dumbledore insisted. I figured he wanted you to have it."
"Hermione got it," said Harry, "but I was supposed to?"
"I'm not sure," Lupin admitted. "That's what I expected, at least, and I realized that only three topics were left when I reached you and Hermione. I skipped over her because I wanted to make sure you got the topic Dumbledore intended for you."
"Maybe he intended for me to have the Dark Scar," said Harry uncertainly. Lupin raised an eyebrow, sipping his cocoa again.
"But does the topic make you uncomfortable in any way?" asked Lupin.
"No," said Harry quickly. "I mean, at first I thought my scar might be one, but I figured out pretty quickly that it wasn't."
"Exactly," agreed Lupin, "why I found it pretty peculiar. The Sorting Hat is yet to make a mistake, so I needn't worry. I just wanted to see how you were doing."
"I have about half of it written," said Harry, gathering his things. The clock on the wall above Lupin's head showed that dinner would be starting in ten minutes. He started to stand, but something made him stop.
"Professor? Can you explain the Affinity of Relations to me, anyway? I came across it in my own reading..."
"...And Hermione gave you so much information that she lost you?" finished the professor. He chuckled when Harry nodded reluctantly. "That one, she'll do a thorough job. What would you like to know?"
Professor Lupin had abandoned his cup, and he was leaned forward at his desk, his hands in his lap. He was watching Harry carefully, almost studying him. The look in his eyes told Harry that his professor had anticipated his question.
"Well, Hermione said something about it linking one wizard or witch to another in the magical world through a non-magical situation," said Harry, "which doesn't make sense to me."
"Well, perhaps I can give you an example," said Lupin thoughtfully. He grimaced. "No, it's not a very pleasant topic. Let's apply it to your own topic and say someone interfered in a Death Eater curse and was left with a Dark Scar."
"Uh-huh," muttered Harry, nodding to show that he was following along.
"Well, often, the person left with the scar would suffer beyond the initial curse," said Lupin, still watching Harry closely. "An Affinity of Relations would sometimes occur, and the scarred would be left linked to his or her curser. Sometimes, the curser merely gained a sense of the other person's well being, and other times, he or she would gain a varying degree of access to the person's thoughts and feelings. What makes the Affinity so dangerous, though, is the third circumstance. Sometimes, the curser will be left with the ability to influence the mind of the scarred. In any case, the Affinity of Relations is dangerous because it makes someone more vulnerable to his or her curser. That's why the Death Eaters were so successful in... Harry, are you all right?"
"What?" demanded Harry, confused. Lupin was looking at him through concerned eyes.
"You've grown quite pale," said Lupin.
"I have?" said Harry, hoping it sounded convincing. If he looked the way he felt, he didn't have a bit of trouble believing he had grown pale. "I was just trying to take in what you were saying. I think I understand now, but I thought that the Affinity of Relations had to do with non-magical occurrences."
"It does," said Lupin. "It can be connected to the result of magic, too, like in the case of the Dark Mark. Other times, it's non-magical, unpleasant situations. I think I heard a story about two drunken wizards getting in a bar fight. One pushed the other out the window, and he spent three weeks getting the other's thoughts before he realized what happened."
"What about the Ten Smokes of Brilliance?" said Harry suddenly. Immediately, he wanted to take the words back. This time, Professor Lupin was the one who paled.
"What do you know about the Ten Smokes of Brilliance?" asked Lupin darkly.
"Er, nothing," said Harry. It was only a little lie. He didn't really know that much about them. "It's just something I saw in Hermione's notes."
"I see," said Lupin, scratching his chin. He started opening drawers on his desk, taking out a quill and parchment. Harry glanced at his wristwatch.
"Well, I should go," said Harry uncomfortably, standing. He expected Lupin to stand too. "It's dinnertime."
"I know," said Lupin absently. "I'll be right there. There's an owl I must send first."
Harry nodded, thanking Lupin for his hospitality, concern, and explanation. He let the door to the professor's office close, and he stood in the classroom for a few more moments. Finally, he shook his head and headed in the direction of the Great Hall. There was another owl he was even more eager to find out about.
* * *
"You're late," observed Hermione as Harry slid into the seat next to her. He shrugged and threw his book bag under the table. The food had already been served.
"Yeah," agreed Harry. The color had returned to her face, and she was even smiling. "Did you catch up with Professor McGonagall?"
"Were you looking for her?" Ron frowned through a mouthful of food. He hadn't witnessed the scene in the hall earlier.
"Oh, no, but I found a solution to my problem, nonetheless." Ron looked satisfied, but Harry gave Hermione a knowing look. She just smiled guiltily.
"When did you leave the library, Ron?" asked Harry, helping himself to generous portion of beef. He hadn't had a big lunch.
Ron scowled, and he looked in the direction of the Ravenclaw table. "Just after five."
"Trouble in paradise," whispered Hermione, tugging on Harry's arm. "He and Anna got in a big fight. I think her entire house witnessed it."
Ron was still glowering, and he attacked his green beans almost viciously. Harry was surprised that he was even eating them; Ron hated almost all vegetables. His attention remained focused toward the end of the Ravenclaw table where the fourth year girls sat, and Harry knew full well his mind was somewhere else. He waved his hand in front of Ron's face a few times, but he didn't seem to notice. Harry turned back to Hermione. She was shaking her head sadly.
"So why'd you take off?" he asked quietly. She shifted and drew the letter from her pocket. Hermione tapped it, and she grinned.
"I told you a few weeks ago that my parents wanted me to come home for Easter and enroll in the local school," said Hermione, and Harry nodded. "I wrote them back saying I would do no such thing, and Mum replied with a demand that I come home to discuss it with them."
"You sound... er, pleased with that," said Harry, looking at her like she was nuts. Hermione shook her head, waving her hand.
"That was last week," she explained. She was about to continue, when the second-year sitting next to Harry interrupted them. He passed him a scroll and quill. It was the list of Easter plans.
Harry took the quill and went to place his name in the "Staying at Hogwarts" column. He glanced at it hesitantly, noticing that the list had already been through two of the houses and not a single person was staying yet. He put the quill down on the parchment, and he felt a warm hand close on his. Hermione moved his hand over to the first column. He looked at her, confused.
"I wrote her back," said Hermione, referring to her mother's letter. "I was afraid that they'd make me stay home if I went back for the holiday because they tried to at Christmas. I explained that Ron was going home for the holidays, and I wasn't going to leave one of my best friends here all alone. She melted, and she told me to invite you to come home with me."
Her eyes were shining, and Harry couldn't help but smile as he put his name down in the leaving list. "I would have been fine here," said Harry.
"You would have been all alone," said Hermione briskly. Her face softened. "I need you there, Harry, for moral support. I can't loose Hogwarts."
Harry understood. "You won't," he assured. "Just talk to them, `Mione. You've always described them as reasonable people. They'll listen."
"You're right," said Hermione hesitantly. She bit her lip, and then she glanced across the table to Ron. "I think he may be a lost cause."
"He might be," agreed Harry. He made a mental note to talk to Ron that night.
* * *
The next day, they attended their first Care of Magical Creatures class in a long time. Ron had disappeared the night before to sulk about his and Anna's argument, so Harry hadn't gotten a chance to talk to him. He did have a chance to talk to Hermione; however, he'd decided against telling her what Professor Lupin had told him. He wasn't completely sure what Lupin had meant in telling him about his topic, and he didn't want to worry Hermione.
Instead, Hermione read ahead in Charms while Harry created a Divination chart, and then they took turns quizzing each other from their History of Magic textbook. The sun of early spring had already warmed up the Hogwarts ground considerably, and they were comfortable in light cloaks as they sat in the grass outside Hagrid's hut, waiting for class to start.
Fred and George's radio had started going haywire the night before and wouldn't turn off, so Harry had been grumpy that morning from lack of sleep. Now, he and Hermione were bantering about the night before. They'd placed a bet on who knew more of the History of Magic material, and Hermione, surprisingly, had only beaten Harry by a narrow margin. He owed her a butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks the next time they went to Hogsmead, and he was a bit bitter about it.
Ron scrambled from the direction of the castle about five minutes after the lesson should have begun, muttering as he sat down next to Hermione in the grass. Hagrid was in back, letting the hursles out of their pens, and he scratched Erinel absently as he lumbered toward him.
"She won't even talk to me," said Ron again and again. "She won't even look at me. She hates me."
"It'll be okay," said Harry, clapping his friend on the back. Ron just stared ahead glumly. Hermione was too busy with Erinel, who was showering her with kisses and trying to leap into her arms, to say much. She kept telling the frisky hursle to get down, but Harry knew full well that she didn't care. They hadn't had class in three weeks, and Hagrid had been a bit tightlipped about the subject. He just said that the hursles were going through a difficult and dangerous stage, but, judging on Erinel's loving actions, it didn't seem like it.
"Ten'chen! Ten'chen, ever'one! `Et yehr `ursle an' sit where yeh kin hear meh!" called Hagrid, waving his arms. He was standing several feet away, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione all moved a little closer to him. In the time it took them to move with Erinel, Hagrid had scooped up Nigel, the hursle that had been long abandoned by Malfoy's group. He had a nasty disposition and growled when one of the Slytherins got too close.
"Good to see yeh all again," said Hagrid warmly. "Was'n much I could teach yeh fer a few weeks. Now tha' the `ursles are more mature, we kin star' tamin' `em."
For the next hour, the students practiced calling their hursles by name and using basic commands. Erinel was the first to start responding to the sit command, which brought a smile of pride to Hermione's face. He rolled over happily in front of her before finally settling down to sleep. Hermione petted him gently as she watched the other groups. She saw one Slytherin yell at his frightened hursle and began to look very angry. Hagrid was walking around to check on each group's progress. Ron even seemed to snap out of his Anna-induced stupor.
"'E really likes yeh, `Ermione," said a deep voice from behind them. Hagrid was scratching his beard, a twinkle in his dark eyes, and dragging an old wooden chair in their direction. Hermione beamed, and Erinel squawked in his sleep. Hagrid reached down to scratch the feathery animal's belly. "Are yeh okay, Ron? Yeh don't look so well."
"He'll be fine," answered Harry, clapping Ron's back again. "He and Anna are fighting."
Hagrid's brow furrowed. "What abou'?"
"Absolutely nothing," grumbled Ron. "She says I never spend any time with her, says I'm always with my friends or practicing Quidditch! Can you believe that?"
Harry and Hermione exchanged nervous glances, and Hagrid cleared his throat. He looked at Ron sympathetically one last time before the twinkle returned to his eye. "I got summat to ask yeh."
"What is it, Hagrid?" asked Hermione, leaning forward. Ron and Harry followed suit. Hagrid had lowered his voice, but he was positively beaming.
"Do yeh have any plans fer the last week o' summer yet?" asked Hagrid hopefully, and they shook their heads. He smiled even wider. "'O course, I'm gonna have to get ol' Dumbledore's approval, but that won't be a problem. Cin yeh all be here then?"
There were three more nods. "What's going on the last week of summer?" Ron wanted to know. There was still a glum note to his voice, but it was hard not to catch Hagrid's obvious cheer.
"Well," said Hagrid, scratching his beard. "I've bin tryin' to git the nerve to ask Olympe summat for a long time now, and I did las' nigh'."
"Oh Hagrid!" gasped Hermione. "That's wonderful!"
"Said yes," said Hagrid thoughtfully. Then, he broke out into a grin again, but he had to reach into his pocket for a handkerchief. He dabbed at his eyes. "We're gonna live here, together. I'm gonna fix it up real nice for us... never bin so `appy in me life!"
"We'll be here," declared Harry, and Ron nodded enthusiastically. Hagrid went on exclaiming about his good fortune for a few more minutes, and Erinel even woke up, squawking happily. Hermione had to shush him.
"Too bad yehr paren's are Muggles, `Ermione. I would've let `im live with yeh this summer," said Hagrid.
"What's going to happen to him?" asked Hermione, eyes growing wide. Hagrid chuckled.
"I'm going to keep `im here fer yeh," assured Hagrid. "The res' are a goin' to the Ministry, though."
"Why are they going to the Ministry?" questioned Ron. "What are they going to use them for?"
"'Ey're real good guard animals," explained. "'Ey kin use `em to sense evil. `Ey just know when summat's not right. `Ey make a good fuss and won't calm down. `At's why I hav'n bin havin' class-"
Hagrid trailed off, looking sheepish. Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a glance. They knew Hagrid had just done what he was famous for: telling someone something that was supposed to be a secret. Harry glanced at Hagrid casually.
"What's been rattling them?" he said.
"Yeh jus' forgit yeh heard that," said Hagrid sternly.
* * *
Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't just forget what Hagrid had said to them so easily. It was obvious that the hursle's behavior was yet another clue in the year's mysterious happenings, and it was also obvious that Hagrid knew more about what was going on than he wanted to tell. Hermione had dashed straight up to the library after class that afternoon, hoping to find information on hursles, but she had been disappointed when there was little more information then what Hagrid had already said. Harry had similar luck. Ron managed to find an entire book about hursels in the catalog, but the book had been checked out to someone for most of the year.
Besides Hagrid's slip about the hursles, the three friends had other things to worry about. Harry and Ron had several late night talks about his predicament with Anna, and Harry got a sense that the fight had been a lot deeper than Ron simply not spending enough time with her. He had pressed for more information at first, but he had stopped when he sensed Ron wasn't going to talk about it under any circumstance.
Classes went on as usual, but there was the addition of an excited buzz of students anticipating the upcoming holiday. The week went slowly for some, but it flew by for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Hermione kept to herself more than ever, and Harry had a feeling that she having a hard time again. Harry and Ron had Quidditch practices almost every afternoon, and the teachers seemed frantic to finish lessons before the spring holiday. Snape was the exception, of course, and he chose to assign another essay to the fifth years when filling in for Professor Lupin. Still, the week passed, and it was soon Friday evening.
"I can't believe this!" moaned Ron, stabbing violently at his dinner. "We aren't going to have any time to practice!"
"I'm sure you'll live," said Hermione, cringing in disgust as a bit of Yorkshire pudding flew from his plate and onto her robes. She brushed it off. "It's just Quidditch."
"Just Quidditch?" screeched Ron. "What kind of a witch are you? Tell her, Harry!"
"Er," said Harry, eyeing his two friends. Angelina had just tracked them down to tell them that the Slytherin rematch would be held on the first weekend back from Easter holiday. He decided to compromise. "Well, it will be difficult just having that week to practice, but we're better than Slytherin."
Hermione looked satisfied, but Harry knew Ron was still worried about the rematch. He had a feeling, however, that his friend's discomfort came more from the idea of the rematch rather than the date. He knew Ron felt like he had to prove himself, but he also knew that Ron was terrified that something would happen to finish him off. Even so, Ron let the subject drop and went back to eating.
"I still need to pack," grumbled Ron a few minutes later, his eyes darting in the direction of the great wizard's clock at the front of the Great Hall. Hermione looked at him disapprovingly.
"You haven't started packing yet?" she questioned. Ron shook his head, and her attention turned to Harry. "Surely you have?"
"Er," said Harry, and he turned his explanation into a hacking cough.
"Very funny," said Hermione. "You needn't bring everything, of course. My family is completely Muggle, so we won't be able to practice any spells, but you really should bring your books. I don't know how you could afford to not study-"
"'Mione?" interrupted Ron. "You do realize that this is a holiday, don't you?"
"Does it make any difference?" said Hermione sincerely. "I think it's rather silly to have a set time for learning."
"Exactly," said Harry quickly, giving Ron a pointed look. "What else do I need?"
"Just the necessities," said Hermione. "Hedwig is welcome to come, but you won't need all your robes and cauldron and broom-"
"Take your broom," advised Ron. "I wouldn't leave it here and risk it being cursed or hexed."
Hermione stared at Ron, and Harry had a feeling they were dangerously close to bickering. It was going to be a long night.
* * *
"You know," said Harry nervously a few hours later, "maybe this isn't such a good idea, `Mione. If your parents are as upset about you being a witch as you've let on, what makes you think they're going to welcome a wizard into their home?"
"Harry," said Hermione patiently. They were in the main common room, and the rest of the Gryffindors were starting to clear out. Only a handful of students remained, and most of them were staying at Hogwarts over the vacation and didn't have to be up early the next morning to catch the train. "I promise it'll be fine."
"I've never celebrated Easter before," said Harry, thinking up another excuse.
"They'll understand," assured Hermione. "Mum and Dad know all about you and Ron."
"Is that supposed to be comforting?" questioned Harry. His nerves were apparent in his eyes. He looked down at her, and she took his hands in hers.
"Listen to me, Harry," said Hermione, and she blushed. "You're my best friend. You have a charming personality. You're polite and helpful. If anything, you'll prove to my parents that wizards and witches can be wonderful people."
"If you say so," said Harry, but he was still uncertain. Hermione stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
"Now go!" she said, dropping his hands. She pushed him in the direction of the boys' dormitory. "I'll see you in the morning, Harry."
"Sure thing," said Harry, trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach. The only Muggles he had ever spent time with were his hideous aunt, uncle, and cousin, and he was nervous about meeting Mr. and Mrs. Granger. He couldn't explain it, but the idea of spending Easter with Hermione was making him feel a bit apprehensive. He climbed the stairs of the boys' dormitory slowly. He heard a door creak open and shut, and he knew Hermione was already back in the girls' dormitory.
The unmistakable sound of music came from a particular dorm room at the end of the hallway, and Harry couldn't help but laugh at the string of curses coming from one of the Weasley twins. A long bang followed the swear words, and then a moment of silence, but the radio sprung back to life a few minutes later. The cursing had begun again when Harry pushed open the door to his and Ron's room. Ron was already in his pajamas, lying in bed and paging through one of his many Chudley Cannons books.
"You're scared about spending the entire week with just Hermione," observed Ron. Harry wanted to grab something that remained scattered around the room after their frantic packing and chuck it at his friend for his all-knowing tone. "Now why is that?"
"I wouldn't know," said Harry, "because I'm not scared."
"Yes you are," taunted Ron as Harry pulled his shirt over his head and exchanged it for his pajama top. "You want to make a good impression on the Grangers."
"Yeah, well," said Harry, "you would too. If you were visiting Hermione for a week, would you want her parents to hate you?"
"Nope," said Ron, his tone still gleeful. "I wouldn't want them to hate me, but I wouldn't be nearly as concerned as you, Potter."
"I'm not worried, Ron," said Harry calmly, but he had to turn around quickly so his friend wouldn't notice the deep blush rising to his cheeks.
"You can admit it anytime," said Ron cheerfully, and Harry heard him close his book. The candles on Ron's side of the room flickered and then went out. Harry turned around, just wanting to hex his friend. He had really gotten annoying lately. Instead, though, Harry did the mature thing, blowing out his own candles, ignoring Ron's comments, and crawling into his own bed.
After such a tiring week, sleep should have come quickly, but it didn't. Harry still wouldn't respond to Ron's many comments, but he was finding it harder to ignore them every day. There had been a lingering doubt in his mind for a long time, and he was unable to push it away anymore.
When he finally did fall asleep, Harry had another one of his odd dreams. He was wandering very aimlessly through a long, narrow stone corridor that kept looping off in another direction. Finally, the hallway emptied into a dank, dimly lit room that look like a very shrunken version of the Potions dungeon. His head began to throb, and a very heavy stone door closed behind him the second after he entered the chamber. He couldn't see in the dark, but Harry knew he wasn't alone because someone began screaming loudly in one of the back corners. Suddenly, a torch lit on the opposite side of the room, and Harry was greeted by a very unpleasant scent. He felt nauseous; the floor was sticky. He turned again, and realized it was Hermione in the corner. Harry tried to walk to her; he wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her, but something was holding him back-
Harry woke up breathing heavily. He sat straight up in bed, and his hand flew to his forehead. The pain from his scar was so blinding that he couldn't think straight. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the pain subsided and Harry's head fell back against the pillow. He fell asleep without so much as a second thought, and he had no recollection of the incident in the morning.
* * *
"Harry! Ron! Have either of you seen my toad-" Harry squinted as the door to their dorm room was flung open and ricocheted violently off the wall. Neville's eyes grew wide as he saw they were still in bed.
"Neville," groaned Ron, pulling his sheets over his head. He wasn't a morning person, and Harry watched the lump underneath the blankets rearrange the pillow so it was on top of his head and not beneath it. Meanwhile, Harry fumbled around for his glasses on the night table. He managed to knock them to the floor.
"Aren't you both leaving for the holiday?" wondered Neville. He was still standing in the doorway, and Ron grunted unhappily from behind the hangings of his four-poster. "The train leaves in half an hour-"
"What?" screeched Ron, looking at his alarm clock. It had stopped sometime during the night, and the hands remained fixed at three-oh-six. "Bloody hell!"
"You'd better hurry," warned Neville, watching both Ron and Harry jump out of bed. "I'd steer clear of the bathroom, over half the dorm is in there already. It seems that almost everyone overslept."
"Thanks Neville," said Harry hurriedly. He managed to locate his glasses on the floor, and Ron was dashing around to get clothing. Still, Neville hung in the doorway.
"So," he said apologetically, "you haven't seen my toad?"
"No," said Ron, nearly colliding with Harry as he scrambled in the direction of his shoes. "Thanks for getting us up, Neville."
"No problem!" said Neville, and he was gone.
"I'll risk the bathroom," said Ron. "You can change in here."
He was out the door in seconds. Harry didn't blame him for being so frantic. Not only did they have to change and gather their things in the next thirty minutes, but they had to get from the school to the platform, also. Already, Harry could hear the fading clamber of his fellow Gryffindors as they scrambled downstairs with their trunks and bags and pets. The dormitory was growing eerily silent. Still, Harry didn't jump when the door burst open again, assuming it was Ron.
"Harry, are you about ready? The last of the carriages are going to be leaving at any minute, and you're going-oh my, Harry, I'm so sorry!"
Definitely not Ron. Harry spun around to see a very red Hermione standing in the doorframe just as Neville had been a few moments earlier. He was sure his face had similar coloring, considering he was standing there half-naked.
"Be right there," he managed, and Hermione shut the door very quickly. Hoping that the mishap wasn't a sign of how the next week was going to be, Harry threw on the rest of his Hogwarts uniform and was shrugging into his robes when Ron reappeared.
"I just saw Hermione going back down to the common room from here-" said Ron, grabbing his bag off the floor. Neither Ron nor Harry had needed their entire trunk.
"Yeah, she was here," interrupted Harry, checking to make sure his wand was in his pocket and grabbing both his bag and Hedwig's cage. "She walked in on me when I was half dressed."
Ron let loose a great guffaw, but he quickly changed it into something that vaguely resembled a sneeze. "That's great," said Ron. "I mean, that's awful, Harry. Did she see something she really shouldn't of?"
"No!" exclaimed Harry, blushing deeply, again, in spite of himself. "It's just the principle of it."
Ron let out a low whistle, and Harry knew he was resisting the urge to laugh hysterically. He shook his head; he didn't find the situation as funny as Ron.
"You'd be embarrassed if it had been you," mumbled Harry.
"Not like you are," said Ron gleefully, "because there's nothing going on between Hermione and I."
"There's nothing going on between the two of us either!" insisted Harry as they clambered down the stairway connected the door to the boy's dormitory to the Gryffindor common room. Only a couple of second years were left in the dorms, and Hermione was the only person left in the main room. She was still a very deep shade of red. Harry blushed again just looking at her.
"I am so sorry, Harry," she said again.
"Not a big deal," said Harry quickly. Ron was still in gales of laughter. Fortunately, Hedwig swooped in through one of the windows at that moment and perched on Harry's shoulder. She flapped one of her snowy white wings against his face while he unlatched the door of her cage. She obediently went to her perch within it.
"I'll let you out when we're on the train," promised Harry, and Hedwig hooted agreeably.
"Why is it that all of the boys managed to oversleep," questioned Hermione slyly as they waved their good-byes to the Fat Lady, "yet all of the girls were up right on time?"
"We actually know the value of rest," grumbled Ron, reaching up, desperately patting his hair down with his hand. It was almost as unruly as Harry's at the moment, and it was obvious he hadn't had the time to smooth it. "My clock stopped in the middle of the night."
"Sure," teased Hermione as they passed the Great Hall. A large group of students was waiting just past the doors to get in the carriages that would take them to the train station, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized they wouldn't miss the train.
"Relax!" said Ron heartily, punching her lightly in the arm. "Did you think we'd be late?"
"Yes," said Hermione defensively. She looked to Harry for backing.
"Hey, who nearly knocked me into the wall today when he was scrambling around frantically, trying to locate his shoes?" asked Harry with a raised eyebrow. The carriages were returning, empty and ready to take one last batch of passengers to the train. Hermione, Harry, and Ron scrambled into the last one in the line. The train would be leaving in about ten minutes.
They'd no sooner settled in a compartment with Fred, George, and Ginny than the scarlet steam engine started rolling along the tracks. In no time, they were whizzing through the countryside. Fred and George had taken to one corner, whispering softly and shooing away anyone that got too close. Ron challenged Harry to a game of wizard's chess, and Hermione was braiding Ginny's hair again; George had untied the plait earlier.
"We must excuse ourselves," said George solemnly. The witch had just passed their compartment with the snack cart. Between the six of them, they had ended up with a good-sized pile of candy. Ginny was eating a chocolate frog and reading a book, and Hermione had settled on the floor with Harry and Ron to watch their game. At George's announcement, they all looked up. Both twins looked especially mischievous.
"What are you doing?" asked Ron.
"Oh, nothing," said Fred.
"Nothing at all!" George chimed in.
"Likely story," said Ron, turning back to the chess game. "Checkmate."
Harry sighed; he returned the chess pieces Sirius had given him at Christmas to their box. The Weasley twins were still hanging around the compartment, and Ron was looking at them expectantly.
"Well?" he questioned. "Aren't you going to tell us what you're about to pull? I've never know the two of you to not take credit for your work."
"Oh," said Fred, "if you must know-"
"-We're off to play a prank-"
"-On Alicia and Angelina."
Without further explanation, the twins disappeared from the compartment, laughing at their own cleverness. Ginny picked up her book again, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione just exchanged a shrug.
"I always find it bit unsettling," said Ron, "when they complete each other's thoughts like that."
"You should be used to it by now," said Ginny without looking up. "They've done it as far back as my earliest memory."
Ron shrugged. "Exploding Snap?"
"Sure," said Harry, reaching for a deck of cards from his bag. Before Hermione and Ginny answered, a group of giggling fourth years appeared at the entrance of the compartment and insisted she come with them. Soon, it was just Harry, Ron, and Hermione left in the compartment. Ron looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"Is something wrong, Ron?" questioned Hermione, obviously concerned. Harry realized what it was immediately, and he shoved the cards back into his bag.
"You saw Anna, didn't you?"
"Yeah," said Ron glumly. "She hates me."
"I'm sure that's not true," said Hermione soothingly, but something about Ron's expression said he believed what he had said. "What did the two of you fight about, anyway? I've heard so many different stories that I don't know what to believe."
"I don't want to talk about it," said Ron quickly. Harry and Hermione shared a look. It was unusual that the three of them kept anything from each other; however, they didn't press it.
They ended up playing Exploding Snap for a good part of the journey to King's Cross. When the train began to slow, they gathered their things. Fred and George had returned an hour earlier, grinning slyly, but they wouldn't offer any information about their prank. Harry had a feeling that they'd set something up to happen in the future. He had to shake his head, wondering if it was the best idea for the twins to play practical jokes on their girlfriends. By the time they arrived at the train station, Ron had lost his earlier discomfort, and Harry and Hermione had dismissed his secrecy.
"You two have fun," said Ron as they stepped out onto the platform. The three friends hung back from the barrier for a few minutes, since almost every student at Hogwarts was crowding towards it at once.
"You too, Ron," said Hermione, giving him a friendly hug.
"Oh, I will," said Ron, grinning evilly and rubbing his hands together. "I'm helping Percy move away. How much better can it get than that?"
"The fact that he'll be gone for at least a year?" suggested Harry, having had this conversation with him before. Fred and George were walking towards them, and they sniggered.
"Exactly," said George, hitting Harry's shoulder. "Have a good week, Harry."
"Good week, yes," said Fred, and Harry could have sworn he winked at him. He glared at Ron as Fred, too, punched his arm. Ron was just sniggering. Ginny was covering a smile with her hand, but Hermione just looked confused.
"'Bye Harry! `Bye Hermione!" called Ron as the four siblings walked in the direction of their parents after crossing the barrier. Harry and Hermione waved their good-byes to their friends and greetings to Mrs. Weasley. Harry glanced between Hermione and the three sniggering Weasley brothers, and he shook his head.
"They're interesting," he said to Hermione when they were out of earshot. She raised an eyebrow, and then she glanced in the direction of the departing redheads.
"I'd say," said Hermione, looking up at Harry. He felt a little better from the moment he looked into her eyes. "Ready?"
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