Chapter Twenty-Six
THE DEMENTOR'S TOUCH
Author's Note: Having trouble uploading this one. I think it might be too long. Part one of two.
* * *
"I think I've actually figured something out! Well, maybe I haven't figured anything out yet, but I think I've found a connection!"
Harry heard Ron's triumphant exclamation as his friend burst into the prefect common room shortly after ten, but he didn't catch exactly what the redhead was saying. It had all come out very fast, and it had been what pulled Harry from sleep.
"Oh please," said Ron, tumbling through the room and seating himself opposite his two best friends. Apparently, his entrance hadn't bee quite loud enough to wake Hermione; she was still slumbering, rather contently, against Harry's chest. "I know, I know. There is nothing going on between the two of you. Hermione's been upset. You were there for her. Had it been me, I would have done the same thing."
Harry blinked. "Well," he said, rather defensively because Ron had his response down just right, "it's all very true. Come on, Ron. You spent the evening with her-she hasn't slept in days."
"Yeah," said Ron, and Harry noticed the triumphant look had gone from his eyes, the one that he always got whenever he found Harry and Hermione together like so.
"So what's going on?" said Harry, quietly, so he wouldn't wake Hermione. Without really thinking about it, he reached up to smooth over her bushy hair. Not once did she stir.
"She needs to hear it, too," said Ron.
"Can it wait?" Harry wanted to know.
Ron hesitated. "I don't know, can it? It's about Clara."
Harry bit his lip, studying Ron's face. He looked sincere, and Harry knew how important this could be. Still, he felt rather guilty as he shifted so he could shake Hermione's shoulder. It only took a few moments to wake her. At first, she looked rather startled, but a few more moments, she had taken to studying her surroundings.
"What's going on?" she asked sleepily, pushing a hand up against Harry's shoulder so she would be sitting up.
"I think I've found Clara," Ron blurted, obviously unable to contain himself. "Lewick is Anna's mother's maiden name. Clara would have been Anna's aunt!"
Harry and Hermione exchanged looks, but they were thinking very different things. He couldn't believe how close they could be to finding out more about the mysterious girl in the even more mysterious photographs. She frowned.
"Ron," said Hermione patiently, "there could be any number of Lewicks out there. We can't just assume it's the same family."
Ron's eyes narrowed. "First," he said, "Anna's entire family lives in Essendon and always has, just as Clara Lewick and Lupin did. Her mother had two younger sisters. One of them was just a few years younger, but the other was a lot younger. The older one, Vanessa, is Anna's favorite relative. She talks about her all the time, but she's only mentioned the other sister once. That one died in an accident at Hogwarts just a few days before she turned eighteen. Do you not think it's one and the same, now?"
Hermione bit her lip. Then she grinned. "Brilliant, Ron."
"Thanks," said Ron. "Harry?"
"I just want to know how you came across that one," said Harry.
"Don't worry," said Ron, "I didn't drag Anna into everything odd that's been happening. We were sort of playing keep away with a book Anna's Aunt Vanessa had loaned her. I opened it and saw a nameplate that said Vanessa Lewick. Her aunt never married-something about running on her wedding day."
Hermione's eyebrow arched. "Shouldn't that scare you?" she teased, and Ron blushed. "So what else has Anna told you about the sister?"
"Nothing," said Ron, and he sighed. "And she's told me all she knows. She's the relative that isn't really mentioned."
"Oh, well, at least we know where to look for her now," said Hermione, leaning into Harry. His arm automatically went around her shoulders, which prompted Ron to make a strangled sound that Harry chose to ignore.
"We do?" Harry asked. He immediately felt stupid because Hermione was giving him the familiar look that told him he should already know this.
"Yes," said Hermione. "If she died in an accident here at Hogwarts, there's going to be a record of it. The Board of Governors would have had no choice but to shut the school down if her death hadn't been correctly documented."
"And what page is that on of Hogwarts, A History, Hermione?" said Ron as he and Harry exchanged their own set of looks.
"If you'd actually take the time to read it," said Hermione loftily, "you would know that there's more than one version. But it is in chapter thirteen."
That did it for Ron and Harry. Both boys burst out laughing, and Hermione blushed furiously. She buried her face in her hands, muttering, "I did not just say that. I did not just know that."
"Awe, it's okay, `Mione," said Harry, moving his hand to pat her back.
"Yeah, Harry loves you anyway," said Ron, and he was on his feet in about a second. "I'll just be going now."
"It would be recommended," said Harry, raising an eyebrow. Still, his comment had caused Hermione to look up, and she was smiling almost. He pulled away from her reluctantly. "I should probably being going, too."
Hermione stood when he offered her a hand. "Maybe I'll finally be able to sleep tonight."
"Maybe," Harry echoed, keeping one eye on Ron as he made a beeline for the portrait hole. One more comment like that, and he'd be forced to smother his best friend with a pillow. He said to her, quietly, "You'll be okay, `Mione."
"Are you coming?" called Ron from the portrait hole. He had one foot out the door and one hand on its frame when Harry turned from Hermione.
"I'll be down in a moment," said Harry.
"Suit yourself," said Ron, shrugging. The portrait hole closed behind him half a second later, and Harry's attention was once again on Hermione, whose hand he was still holding. When he looked at her, she looked away, letting go of his hand. His fingers trailed against her palm as she crossed toward the room's window.
"Hermione," said Harry, only just catching her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
Hermione turned. Her eyes were wide and fearful. "It's too easy," she said quietly. "That's not good, Harry. You know what happens when-when it's like that."
"I know," said Harry, grabbing her hand again. Suddenly, he remembered what he had with him. His hand closed around the protecao in his pocket as he spoke. "Danger's coming."
"Maybe we shouldn't think like that," said Hermione uncertainly.
"Maybe we should," said Harry. "At least we'll be prepared for anything that might happen." He withdrew the necklace from his pocket, and he let Hermione's hand drop from his own. Carefully he undid the clasp and secured it around Hermione's neck. Her hand flew to her throat at once, her fingers tracing the delicate silver chain.
"Oh Harry," Hermione whispered. "It's that necklace."
"It's not just a necklace," said Harry, catching both her hands between his. "It's a protecao. Lupin told Ron and I about it ages ago, and I can't believe I just thought to give it back to you now. It keeps Dark Magic from reaching its wearer."
Hermione's hands flew to her neck again, but this time they went behind it in some kind of frantic attempt to remove it. "I can't accept this," she rushed. "Not if it's what you say it is. You should keep it, Harry-put it in your pocket or something. It's always you that's the target. Maybe this will help some."
"No said Harry, firmly reaching up to pull away her hands. "I want you to have it."
"But Harry," said Hermione, "they might try to hurt you!"
"They might try to hurt you," said Harry.
"But Harry," Hermione tried again. He cut her off by placing his palm on her cheek.
"That would hurt me," said Harry softly, "more than you know. Now go get some sleep, all right? I think you could use it."
"Yes," Hermione agreed. She sighed, but she seemed to understand. She stood up and put her arms around his neck. Harry patted her back gently as she thanked him. When they pulled apart, he noticed that there was a tear on her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, suddenly startled.
"Nothing," assured Hermione, and she smiled up at him. "It's just... well, I never thought..."
She didn't finish, and Harry tilted her head up so he could look into her eyes. "You never thought what?"
This time, there were no tears, but Hermione's cheeks flushed. "I had this idea of what I thought Hogwarts was like, and I was wrong. It was a thousand times better than I'd dared to dream. But... I never thought that I'd find what I found in you."
Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. "And what was that?" he managed. It was awfully hard to look at her like this. The silence between them made his heart beat a little faster, and finally he bent his neck and kissed her lightly.
Somehow he knew that it would be okay.
* * *
By the time Harry had gone to bed on Friday night, things were going rather well for him. He had kissed-actually kissed-Hermione twice. He had told Ron what Snape had said, and even though that in itself wasn't pleasant, it felt good to have someone else to mull through it all with. They'd talked about it, poured over the book, and theorized until Ron's head had dropped sleepily to his desk.
The boys had tucked in after that. Harry had woken up for a time during the night but had no recollection of it in the morning, so his good mood lasted. It had held, even when Ron threw A History of Magic at his head to wake him up and when Neville had accidentally deactivated the bathroom's heating charms during Harry's shower. In the end, it was the reason he'd been so happy in the first place that threatened it all. Hermione had been waiting in the common room for him to come down to breakfast.
It was awkward for Harry to look her in the eye while remembering the way her lips felt on his. It was enough to make him go scarlet but not enough to merit the mental scolding that was most surely due. Finally, Harry managed a hesitant smile.
"Hi," he said softly, suddenly very interested in his hands. It had just occurred to Harry that this could very well be the end of their friendship.
"Hi," said Hermione, just as softly, and they finally made eye contact. Slowly, they both grinned, and Harry knew that things would hold, for now at least. He stepped forward hesitantly and hugged her tightly. This was okay. So there would just be some things between them that they didn't talk about. They walked toward the Great Hall, side by side, not touching or talking but contented to be in each other's presence.
"Are you going to Hogsmeade today?" Harry asked, finally summoning the courage to talk to his best friend again.
Hermione's answer was short and to the point. "O.W.L.s?"
"What about them?" said Harry casually, hoping it would work.
"What about them?" Hermione echoed, her voice rising with each syllable. She had stopped in front of him and turned to face him with her arms crossed over her chest. "Honestly, Harry, I'm starting to wonder if you listen when I talk! Our exams begin a week from Monday! How can-why are you laughing at me?"
Harry threw his hands up in surrender as he tried to suppress the laughter that was escaping him. Finally, he was able to contain himself and reach out to touch Hermione's cheek.
"I didn't mean to laugh, but everything you were saying was just so... so... Hermione that I couldn't help it," said Harry affectionately. They were nearly to the Great Hall. "I know when O.W.L.s are, I know that we need to study, and I do listen when you talk. It's just..."
"It's just what?" Hermione prompted when Harry trailed off. Instead of finishing his statement, he decided to try a new approach.
"Come on, Hermione. I'll study with you this morning, and maybe then we can go to Hogsmeade for butterbeers or something this afternoon." Harry looked at her hopefully.
"I really need to study then because I have that detention with McGonagall at half past four," said Hermione apologetically.
"Please?" said Harry. "Humor me, will you? Come on, Hermione. I'll treat."
Harry had to try very hard not to grin as the corners of her mouth turned slowly upwards in a smile.
"Okay," she said at last. "I'd like that."
"Good," said Harry, and he held his arm out to her, and she took it, and they walked into the Great Hall like that-together. That felt okay. It was something else, something Harry noticed upon entering but couldn't place, that didn't. Harry and Hermione slid into the seats that Ron had saved for them, sharing apprehensive looks. The mail had already come, and Ron was engrossed in Hermione's Daily Prophet. When he finally looked up, he was deathly pale.
"What's happened?" Harry wanted to know. Hermione didn't wait for Ron to respond and took up the newspaper from him. She, too, paled.
"What's going on?" Harry asked again. He was craning his neck and trying to read over Hermione's shoulder but not having a very good time of it.
"Another attack," said Ron in a hollow, dead sort of voice. Hermione nodded wordlessly and passed the paper to Harry. She reached across the table and patted Ron's hand.
"Fenny," said Hermione sympathetically. "It's rather close to Ottery St. Catchpole, isn't it?"
"Read on in the article," Ron urged, so Harry flipped to its continuation on the second page. Mr. Weasley's name practically jumped off the page at him. "He and Mum saw the Dark Mark in the sky. He and Mr. Diggory were there before the Aurors even. Eighteen Muggles dead this time, and two more wizards."
"But he's okay, right?" said Hermione anxiously.
"Lucius Malfoy criticized them both for saving Muggle lives," Ron growled and balled up his fist. "My dad's all right, but he took the Cruciatus Curse twice and then got told off for holding back a Death Eater!"
It wasn't at all funny; Harry knew how awful the Cruciatus Curse was from experience, but he couldn't help but snigger. "Think about who it's coming from, mate. That Death Eater was probably Malfoy!"
Ron snorted, but Hermione still looked horrified as she ducked around Harry's arm to read the paper. He casually put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her over so she could see the page as well.
"`Had Misters Weasley and Diggory received further injury in their escapades, I would have been unable to find any pity for either man. Their actions were not only disgraceful to the Ministry but also insulting to our elite division of Aurors that responded to the scene after their arrival,'" read Hermione. "`It would be my usual course of action to seek their resignations, but I cannot trouble myself with it at the moment. My concerns are, as always, with the safety and secrecy of our community. If Minister Bom had acted properly after Monday's similar attack, there wouldn't have been reason for Misters Weasley and Diggory's misguided actions.' He's simply dreadful!"
Although it was obvious that Ron had already read the passage in question, he looked as disgruntled when Hermione finished as Harry did. "It gets better," said Ron. "Keep going. The last lines are justice."
"Malfoy went on to say that his opinion coincides with that of the other eleven advisors. However, none have spoken out openly against either Weasley or Diggory yet. Other Ministry officials, including the elite team of Aurors at the scene, went so far as to praise their efforts.
"`I find it hard to believe that anyone would criticize Arthur [Weasley] or Amos [Diggory] after their sacrifices,' said Matthias Friedman, an Auror unit supervisor. `They saved at least three Muggle lives and assisted in moving Muggles to Ministry headquarters in London. It'll be Order of Merlins for both if I have anything to do with it!'" Hermione lifted her head so fast that she knocked Harry's glasses askew. She was grinning widely. "That would be so wonderful for your father, Ron!"
"Yeah, I'd like to see the look on old Malfoy's face when Dad gets it," said Ron smugly. "That's one honor he'll never be getting."
"It's not for certain yet, Ron," Hermione scolded gently, but Harry could tell that she was grinning. "Oh, it really would be so wonderful."
"What exactly is an Order of Merlin?" Harry wanted to know, feeling a bit foolish. He had certainly heard of it before, but he wasn't totally clear on how it was earned. He could hear Hermione's voice in his head before she even opened her mouth, giving admonishment to him for not knowing something that might appear on their O.W.L.s.
"Harry!" It was almost as if she'd been reading from some cue card. "Were you not paying attention when Professor Binns explained it? It's most certainly going to be on the examination over wizarding life!"
"What Hermione means, Harry," said Ron, glaring at her, "is that an Order of Merlin is something you get for being a good wizard. You give Hedwig treats for getting your mail to you, right? Same thing."
"You would liken it to food of some sorts, Ron," said Hermione, finally dropping the Daily Prophet to the empty seat next to her and reaching for a piece of toast. She ate it slowly, tearing little bits off and popping them in her mouth. "It's more like this, Harry. Remember how Special Awards for Services to the School are given? Well, it's the grander equivalent of that, an award for `those actions of benefit to all magical kind.' Dumbledore was given one for defeating Grindelwald, and-" She lowered her voice. "-And Snape would have received one for Sirius had he not escaped on Buckbeak."
Ron laughed so hard that something unidentified flew out of his mouth in Harry's direction. Ignoring it, Harry looked up to the staff table. It was almost as if the glaring Potions master knew he was being talked about.
"So what do you make of last night?" Harry said, finally, after a few more minutes of lighthearted conversation. Hermione bit her lip. Ron had his mouth open, as if to say something, and Harry knew that what came out wasn't what it had once been.
"Twice in one week," said Ron heavily.
Hermione didn't say anything, but she tensed visibly, grabbing Harry's arm. "Did you have another dream, Harry?" she asked anxiously. "You didn't say anything, and Ron didn't say anything, and I was just wondering if-"
"No," said Harry quickly, cutting her off. He smiled at her. Then, suddenly, flashes and blurs of color streamed through his mind, mixed with the shouts and screams of what could only be terrified people. He must have gone pale or changed expressions or something because Ron also appeared to be concerned when Harry looked up from his sausages. "I-I don't think I did. Did I wake up or something?"
"I wouldn't know," said Ron. "I was totally out-making up for the night before, I reckon."
Harry had to smile at that. "If I didn't know about our essays, I would have taken that a completely different way."
"You two could make out a joke out of anything," said Hermione disapprovingly, but she was smiling. Harry grinned at her, and the disapproval left her face entirely. "At least you won't-at least you didn't have to see it happening again."
"No," said Harry. He could suddenly only manage a weak smile. Gone was his happiness of earlier, replaced with the overwhelming realization of what had happened. Harry had known that it was coming, but he hadn't been prepared for when it did. Voldemort had risen.
They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence, Hermione, as usual, finishing before the boys.
"I'll see you in the library, Harry," said Hermione, kissing his cheek before standing up. "I need to get my notes about the Uric the Oddball back from Mandy."
"Who was he again?" Ron asked.
"Didn't we learn about him ages ago?" said Harry at the same time. "Ages ago, as in first year?"
"Yes," said Hermione, giving them an all-too-familiar look. "You can't just assume that someone won't be on the test because it's been a bit since we've studied it. Really, I can't imagine how you two would go about studying if left on your own! I'll see you in the library, Harry, won't I? And you, Ron?"
"I don't think I'll tell her," said Ron, "that you and I wouldn't study at all if it weren't for her."
"No," said Harry, watching her head in the direction of the Ravenclaw table. He probably would have still studied but decided not to say it. Studying with Hermione wasn't all that bad, but he didn't tell Ron that either. "Don't tell her that."
Ron shrugged, shoveling in another bite of breakfast breakfast. "She's all yours, Harry."
"You would say that," said Harry. He shoved a last bite of sausage into his mouth and headed off in the direction of the Gryffindor tower for his book bag.
* * *
"Oh, I'm not sure if I like this-"
Harry grinned, having just dropped into the secret tunnel to Hogsmeade from the witch's hump. He gathered himself from the earth floor and brushed his hands off on his robes. Not more than a second later, Hermione fell from the chute behind him. Even though she opened them quickly, Harry knew she'd had her eyes shut for the short trip down.
"Lumos! Not so bad," said Harry, offering her a hand up. He grinned at her while reaching out to brush some dirt from her robes.
"Won't we get in trouble for this?" Hermione asked anxiously. "Shouldn't we just walk from the castle like everyone else?"
"And what's the fun of that?" Harry said. He was teasing, but the even more anxious look on Hermione's face told him that she hadn't picked up on it. He added quickly, "Don't worry. It's not like we're going to Hogsmeade on a weekend we're not supposed to, and it's not like we don't have permission to be there. I just didn't want to put up with Colin rushing around behind us for the rest of the afternoon. And you saw what it looks like out there."
It was true. The excited young Gryffindor had caught Harry and Hermione on their way out of the library. When Harry had said they were going to Hogsmeade, the fourth year had suddenly decided that such a weekend outing was a good idea. Not particularly fond of the idea of spending his afternoon with Hermione with Colin as well, it was all Harry could do to drag Hermione around the opposite corner when Colin started for the Gryffindor tower to get his money.
Also, the sky was so dark that it would soon look like night. Heavy with storm clouds, rain was inevitable.
"Poor Colin," said Hermione. "He just doesn't get it, does he?"
"No," said Harry. He cast the light of his wand on her one more time. "Come on, you haven't been this way before, have you?" When she shook her head, Harry continued, "It's narrow all the way through, and low too. Careful where you step-the floor's really uneven."
Harry put his hand out, and she took it, following him into the dark tunnel. He was taller now than he had been the last time he went this way, and he had to duck a bit to keep from scrapping his head against the packed earth at the top of the tunnel.
"It's chilly down here," said Hermione, gripping Harry's hand tightly. It wasn't really necessary, but Harry could tell that the dark, confined space was making her nervous.
Harry didn't really respond. Instead, he said, "You okay?"
"Okay," said Hermione, and she followed dutifully behind him as the passage twisted first in one direction and then the other. It was chilly, but the long walk to the cellar of Honeydukes kept the cold from getting to them. They talked sometimes but not others, and the silence between them was always companionable. After what seemed like ages, they reached the twisting staircase leading up to the candy shop.
"Ah," said Harry vaguely, gesturing to the steps. "There are a lot of these."
"Oh?" said Hermione, and she followed closely behind him. Fifteen minutes later, they had been through Honeydukes and were sitting at a table together in the back of the Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta, looking only a bit frazzled for the vast number of Hogwarts students that had been through, had just scurried off to get them their butterbeers.
"So what exactly are O.W.L.s like?" Harry asked, settling more in his chair. They had spent the entire morning studying for the approaching exams.
Hermione grimaced. "I asked Katie that the other day."
"And?"
"And she held up a hand and told me it was much too traumatic to speak of," said Hermione. Seeing the worried look on Harry's face, she hastily added, "She got twelve, though, so it must not have been that bad."
Harry tapped his fingers on the table, looking down. "Katie's the best witch in her year. She's Head Girl, after all. That's not me."
"You'll do fine, Harry," she said, and Harry looked at her skeptically. "Believe what you want, but I know you'll do well."
Harry couldn't help but smile when she grabbed his hand from across the table. "Three days of testing," he said heavily.
"O.W.L.s coming up, no?" It was Rosmerta with their drinks. She set a tankard of butterbeer in front of each of them. "Be glad it's not N.E.W.T.s. They go on for five days, those do. O.W.L.s aren't so bad. You'll walk out feeling rather numb, but I don't know of anyone who has done as badly as they thought they did."
"Oh, and that makes me feel better," muttered Harry, sinking low in his chair and taking a long, comforting drink of his butterbeer.
"Well, look at it this way," said Hermione, curling her legs up beneath her in the chair. "As long as you don't think you've worse than failed, you're guaranteed a passing grade."
"Run that by me again?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow. Hermione laughed, taking her first sip of her butterbeer. This made Harry smile. It was happening more and more now. She would seem happy, and relaxed, and carefree.
"We should practice actual spells tonight," said Hermione. "There's a practical portion of the exam, you know. We're taking it on Tuesday."
"I know that," said Harry. They had been reminded of their exam schedule so often that he was on the verge of cursing the next teacher that so tried to tell him. They would be taking a written test on Monday, practical exams would be administered on Tuesday, dueling would be Thursday morning, and they had not yet been told what that afternoon would entail. "Let's not talk about O.W.L.s."
"You're the one that brought it up," said Hermione with a smile.
"Yeah? Well-" Harry did not have a response for that, which made Hermione grin quite broadly. "Well, once we're through them, we have a month of light classes, one last Quidditch match for the Cup, and another Hogsmeade weekend or two before we find out just how bad our scores were."
"So... cynical," said Hermione. "Mmm... I've just decided that this is the thing I miss most when I'm away from Hogwarts during the holidays."
"You're kidding me. You've found something that you miss more than the homework?" Harry joked. "More than classes? More than Ron? More than me?"
"Well, not more than you," said Hermione.
There was no hint of teasing in her voice, and Harry promptly went scarlet. He averted his eyes, surveying the rest of the pub's crowd. Most of the Hogwarts students were clearing out; the lunch hour was just over. Some warlocks at the bar seemed to be starting their drinking rather early, and a couple of goblins in the corner were having a heated debate, of which Harry couldn't understand a word. An elderly couple got up and left, and Harry caught sight of a certain redhead on the other side of the room. Several third year girls, including Ally Johnson, were surrounding him.
"I think Ron's got himself some admirers," said Harry, leaning across the table to Hermione.
"Ah," said Hermione knowingly. "I think he'd get on best with the short one with the blonde braids. Her name is Joanna, if not Joelle. Very quiet, until you get on the subject of him."
"And it used to be me with all the admirers," said Harry jokingly. Ron was walking toward the door now, and the girls seemed to understand that he did not want to be followed. He must have known that his two friends were in the back of the pub because he shot Harry a wink and a thumbs up before exiting.
"Oh, Alice only has eyes for you," said Hermione slyly. "Taller, isn't wearing her robes at the moment, dark hair. She's... a little scary. For fourteen, she has a very vivid imagination."
This, for some reason, made Harry blush. "I don't think I want to know."
"I know I didn't," said Hermione, wrinkling up her nose. She adjusted her watch on her wrist; it has fallen back when she had gone to point the younger girls out. "She's the only one like that, fortunately. Most of them are very sweet and very smart."
"Girls after your own heart," said Harry, watching the dark haired girl. She turned around at that moment and gave him a little wave. Her little group of friends burst into giggles. Harry rolled his eyes. "Must be interesting."
"What, living with them?" Hermione shuddered. "You would not believe the things they talk about. Lavender and Parvati, those two are immune to Silencing Charms. I'm amazed I'm still able to keep my impression of Seamus before Lav took an interest in him."
"She likes him too?" Harry wanted to know.
"Not-so-secretly upset about the outburst that earned you detention." Hermione shuddered again.
"That bad?" Harry studied her face and laughed. "I'll take that as a yes. Is Parvati currently taken with anyone?"
"What, are you interested?" Hermione teased. "No, but-oh, oh... she just came in here."
Harry's head whipped around very fast. Sure enough, Hermione's roommate had entered the Three Broomsticks. Parvati seemed to be looking for someone.
"Don't look now, but she's headed in our direction."
"I know," said Hermione. She learned forward and whispered, "Do you think it's too late for me to slip beneath the table?"
"I didn't know it was that bad," said Harry.
"Well, the things she's been saying recent-"
"Hermione!"
"Hi Parvati," said Hermione, smiling weakly. Harry gave the girl a sort of jerky nod. "How are you?"
"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," said Parvati. "It's Lavender. She's over there in Gladrags, trying on new dress robes. You simply have to help me; she's suddenly got this idea that yellow is her color!"
"I thought her color was blue," said Hermione dryly, and Harry snorted into his butterbeer.
"It is blue," said Parvati earnestly, pressing her palms on the edge of the table and leaning into them, "which is why I need your help. This yellow-she might be able to pull off a gold, perhaps-but this yellow just does not go with her skin tones. She's going to end up looking like a... I don't know! It's my duty-our duty-to keep her from looking like an overgrown lemon."
"I happen to like lemons," said Harry when Parvati began tugging on Hermione's robes. He knew it was selfish of him, but he'd wanted to spend the afternoon with her. It would be hard to do so if she was out and about with her roommates.
Parvati shot him a dirty look. She was tugging on Hermione's robes again. "You're helping us Hermione. You might not have any sense when it comes to... never mind. Once we talk Lavender out of those hideous-" Parvati shuddered "-robes, there's a set I want you to try on."
Hermione sent Harry a very apologetic look as she was dragged off in the direction of the dreary street. Harry sighed, slouching even more in his chair and finishing off his butterbeer. He'd hoped to spend an hour or two in Hogsmeade in her company, but now it looked like he'd be spending the afternoon alone. Pulling some coins from his pocket, Harry figured that he might as well head back to Hogwarts.
"So that's how girls bond. Funny, the last time I `bonded' with any of my roommates, it was all done with a few bottles of... well, I better not say."
Harry looked up to see Justin Finch-Fletchy standing a few paces away, his hands buried in his pockets. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he wasn't really smiling.
"Yeah, you'd better not," said Harry. He smiled awkwardly at Justin. "You here alone?"
Justin nodded. "It sounded like a good idea at the time. I didn't think I could stand another person telling me how sorry they were about my `loss.'"
"So I'm guessing this isn't a good time for me to ask you how you're doing?" Harry said, dropping his money back in his pocket and setting his hand on the table. "Do you want to sit down?"
Justin started to shake his head, but he seemed to change his mind. Pulling the chair back, he sat down heavily. "Okay, I guess. I just got back last night."
"How's your mum?" Harry wanted to know. He actually wanted to talk to Justin. He felt like he owed the Hufflepuff boy that much, having witnessed the atrocities committed against his family. "And your sister Jessica?"
Justin gave him an odd look. He had been sitting with his hands on the table, twiddling his thumbs. "How do you know her name?"
"I-" said Harry, and he quickly decided against telling Justin about his vision of that night. The boy didn't need to know that. "I remember Hermione mentioning it."
"Ah," said Justin. He slumped in the chair, not looking Harry in the eye. "The Muggle doctors say she'll probably never walk again."
Harry let out his breath, not even realizing he had been holding it. He, too, had looked down. "I know you're sick of hearing it, but I'm sorry. I really am."
"I reckon everyone is," said Justin at last, "but you actually sound sincere. Then again, you're the only one of them without two happy, living parents."
"It's not the same thing, though," said Harry. "I can miss having parents, but I can't miss my parents because I don't ever remember having them."
"It's still awful," said Justin. "I was really close to my dad. Everyone always said we were just alike. I don't know what to do now that he's gone." He was now drumming his fingers on the wood tabletop. "I shouldn't have come back here so soon. I should have stayed with Mum and Jessica for a few more days. It's... Mum didn't want me to miss my O.W.L.s."
"Is that the truth?" Harry questioned. The hesitation in Justin's voice hadn't been lost on him.
"Actually," said Justin, smiling weakly, "it is. But it's more than that, too. I just couldn't spend another day there. It's bad for everyone, not just us. If you didn't lose someone, you lost your home, all to some stupid wizard that you'll never know. I couldn't help but feel guilty. I'm one of them, after all."
"Roll up your left sleeve and say that," said Harry. "You're only one of them if you've chosen to be. There's two kind of wizards just like there's two kind of Muggles-those that hate us because of something we can't help and those that are content to let us be."
"It all boils down to a lot of hate in the end," said Justin. "It's not my fault, what happened to them, and it's not because I'm a wizard that our neighborhood was targeted. I know all that, and I still feel guilty."
"You did nothing," said Harry quietly. He knew how Justin felt. Voldemort hated him for reasons beyond his understanding, yet Harry still felt responsible for the Dark Lord's return. Voldemort hated Muggles and had so broken Justin's family, and, although what had happened was beyond his control, the Hufflepuff boy would always carry shame for the actions of a small number of his "kind."
"I know," said Justin. There was a moment of silence. "You should know that there's talk of real conflict. The Minister's advisors are calling for confrontation. They think it's where the Ministry when wrong all those years ago."
"Confrontation?"
"You know," said Justin, shifting, almost uncomfortably, "like the battles in a Muggle war. It sounds... well, it doesn't sound like the best idea."
"Oh," said Harry. "That's one way of racking up the casualties."
"Yeah, Bom's against it, and I don't believe in it," Justin began fidgeting again, "but I can't say I wouldn't go if it came down to that."
"I don't think it will," said Harry, desperately wishing he really did.
Justin nodded. "Thanks for... er, talking to me." He relaxed into the chair, finally, and managed a smile. "So... something not so heavy, maybe?" He was looking out the front of the pub and across the street to Gladrags Wizardwear. "How long have you and Hermione been together now?"
"'Mione have I been friends since first year," said Harry quickly. "There's nothing together about it."
"Oh?" said Justin. "I... well, sorry."
"Hermione's not my girlfriend," said Harry again. "Aren't you with-?"
"Hannah Abbot," said Justin quickly. He looked thoughtful. "I haven't talked to her since breakfast Monday. All well."
The door opened on the opposite side of the room, but Harry did not turn to see who had come in. "You don't seem too-" Harry frowned. There was a scream and...
The pub had gone strangely, brutally cold. It was foggy; his vision blurred. Harry tried to turn, but it was hard.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-"
There was cruel laughter, but it was getting farther and farther away. It was hard to hear what was happening. Then, a door burst open.
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Harry could hear his mother screaming. It was hard to think about anything other than the panic in her voice.
"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now..."
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The room began to come back into focus. Harry couldn't figure out who had conjured the Patronus until he realized he was holding his wand out. Surely, he wasn't the only one that knew how to protect against Dementors.
"They're in the street!"
There had been dementors at the door. As he charged purposely toward the door, wand in hand, it barely dawned on Harry what that meant. The silvery wisps of Prongs were coming back at him, but the stag disappeared before it reached him. However, several sinister, hooded creatures were still in the streets. Before they had a chance to make him react, Harry directed his wand at them.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The force of the spell sent Harry stumbling backwards. Another stag, more magnificent and defined than the first, went at the dementors with an even greater gusto. Harry watched, eyes wide, as the last hooded figures retreated. There were six on the street, and there had been three in the pub. Nine dementors, nine supporters of the Dark side, had been in Hogsmeade.
The stag was coming back towards him, and Harry extended his hand. "Prongs," he whispered, feeling very spent. His head lowered, the creature brushed against Harry's fingertips, immediately restoring his energy. Harry reached out farther, but the stag had retreated. It charged into Gladrags Wizardwear, and a final dementor escaped the streets of Hogsmeade.
There was someone lying on the street not more than three feet from Harry. He was wearing cheerful purple robes but had a very vacant expression on his face. One time, he blinked, and Harry immediately felt sick. The man had been given the dementor's kiss, and so had several other people on the street. Voldemort had, just as Dumbledore had predicted one year before, called the Dark creatures to his side. Now, he was using them in a most deadly way.
"Harry?"
He whirled around. An ashen-faced Justin was standing in the doorway of the Three Broomsticks.
"Is anyone in there-" Harry couldn't say it. "Is anyone in there like this?"
"One," said Justin grimly. Harry took a deep breath. The man of the elderly couple he had seen leaving the pub was back in the middle of the street.
"Out of the shops, everyone," he was calling. "Come on, let's see if we can make some order of this. Everyone, out!"
The first person to exit Gladrags was not Hermione or Parvati or Lavender. Instead, it was Anna. She did not join the mass congregation of people hovering near the shops, but instead marched purposely toward Harry. She looked very pale.
"Oh Harry," she whispered. "Hermione..."
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