Harry Potter and The Gilded Portrait - Part Two
Standard Disclaimers Apply
Chapter Fifteen - Assistance
When Harry opened his eyes he found himself disconcerted for a moment. While he remembered Hermione pleading with him to stay the night before and recalled settling in what she had called their guest room for the night he still found himself a bit out-of-sorts to realize he wasn't in #12.
The room was three times the size of his old room at the Dursley's and larger yet than Sirius' room at #12. The furnishings were all modern and the décor was quite nice. The bed he had slept in was huge in comparison to any other he had ever been in and quite comfortable.
He lay there in wonder that his life had been so utilitarian. He also wondered if most other Muggles lived this way.
Surely not? Hermione's parents were professionals. That afforded them a bit more than most others…didn't it?
It amazed him just how limited his views and experiences were of either world he was part of. He was brought out of his reverie by the sounds of soft footsteps in the hall. As he listened they stopped just outside his room door. There was a soft knock followed by Hermione's timid voice.
"Harry? Are you awake?"
Harry reached for his glasses and sat up. He realized he was wearing a pair of dark blue pajama bottoms. He knew at once they must have been Mr. Grangers because Harry had never owned such a nice pair of sleeping trousers.
"Yes Hermione," he replied, "I'm up." He looked around the room and could see it had an adjoining bathroom in the far right corner. The door was slightly ajar and he could see a sink and mirror above. "I'll be out in a moment. I just want to wash up a bit. Is that alright?"
"Of course it's alright," Hermione answered, "What a silly question! I'll be in the kitchen when you're finished. I'll put some coffee on and I think I might be able to find something to eat. I'm afraid I'm not much of a cook."
"Not to worry," Harry said with a smile as he made his way to the lavatory, "I'll help with breakfast. I've had plenty of practice."
After washing up and doing his business he scourgified the clothes he had on the night before and went to find Hermione in the kitchen mostly shuffling things about without actually doing any cooking. The smell of rich Turkish coffee seemed to fill the whole first floor as he entered the modern space.
When he found Hermione she was reading the preparation instructions on a package of porridge. He chuckled to himself until he took in what his best friend was wearing. When it finally sunk into his sleep-hazed brain he almost swallowed his tongue.
Hermione was wearing nothing more than a very thin white tank top and a very small pair of white boy shorts. Her hair was a mess but she had captured her long tresses into a hasty pony tail tied with what looked like an old shoelace. He couldn't help but think she looked a bit discombobulated but as he took in her appearance from her small bare feet to the tip of her cute little nose he couldn't help but realize how suddenly warm the kitchen was.
He tried desperately to quell the thoughts that were invading his mind at the moment as he moved to look over her shoulder. The sad smile she gave him when she looked up almost made his heart skip a beat or two.
"Morning," Hermione said, "How does porridge sound? It's about all I know how to make without the possibility of burning down the entire house."
Harry reached out and snatched the package from her grasp with a wry grin.
"You mean there's something I know how to do the clever Ms. Granger doesn't? I should alert the Daily Prophet. They might want to put it on the front page."
Hermione folded her arms and gave Harry a rather dark look. He had to tear his gaze from her as he discovered how thin the material of her tank top was.
"I think that's more the Quibbler's type of headline," Hermione replied.
"Just point me to the food and stand back," Harry said chuckling, "I'll take care of the rest. I guess all those years living with the Dursley's wasn't a total waste."
Harry busied himself making them a scrumptious breakfast of scrambled eggs, perfectly light and fluffy mixed with tender chunks of honey ham and cheese. He added chopped and fried potatoes and lightly toasted slices of bread on the griddle to finish things off.
"Harry, this is delicious!" Hermione gushed as she completely annihilated two whole plates of the tasty nosh.
"Thanks," Harry replied with a smile, "Nice to be able to take care of you instead of it being the other way round."
Sadness washed across Hermione's features for an instant and it made Harry regret having said it but she rallied quickly to the blank, emotionless look that seemed to dominate her character of late.
"So what are your plans for today?" Hermione asked.
Harry simply shrugged.
"Don't really have any plans to speak of." he replied a bit glumly, "It's not like I can take a stroll or hang out in Diagon Alley or something. That would probably cause a bloody riot, ridiculous really. What about you?"
"I'm off to St. Mungo's this morning to see my parents then I thought I would pop over to Hogwarts. I'm going to ask Headmistress McGonagall if I can use the library to do some research on their condition now the school is mostly repaired…see if I can find some kind of solution. There has to be something somewhere that can tell me what happened to their memories. There's plenty about Wizards who've suffered memory loss and spell damage but almost nothing exists about Muggles. It's almost as if we don't count."
Harry didn't miss the desperation in her voice or the worried look that settled upon her beautiful face. He was all too aware of the prejudices that existed between Wizards and Muggles. The sentiments reached far beyond Voldemort. He had been witness to both sides of it. He remembered how his Aunt and Uncle viewed those of the magical world and the ill feelings Wizards had toward Muggles was well documented throughout history.
It didn't make it any easier to realize Hermione was caught between both worlds with the struggles she now found herself in. He suddenly wished he had paid more attention in both his Muggle schools and at Hogwarts. He felt like a complete brainless oaf sitting next to her.
If she was stumped that meant there was little hope for the rest of them. That revelation made him feel slightly sick.
"Mind if I tag along with you today?" Harry asked not really knowing what else to do with himself. "I'm not sure if I can be of any help but I'll try."
Hermione seemed to brighten only slightly but tried to offer him a smile none the less.
"Thanks Harry," she replied, "That's awfully kind of you."
Hermione leaned over the table and kissed Harry on the cheek. It took everything he possessed in the manners department not to gawk down her tank top when she leaned over.
If I have to endure much more of this I'm going to become completely brain dead!
Fortunately Hermione noticed nothing as a cold sweat broke out on Harry's forehead due to the fact the instead of sitting right back down Hermione lingered close to Harry for a moment looking deeply into his eyes before she reluctantly settled back into her chair.
In that moment he couldn't help recall what happened the night before. The feeling of her warm soft lips on his and the desperate way she had kissed him. He tried telling himself as he lay in bed it was just her disheveled emotional state that caused her to react but as he sat there at the kitchen table peering into her sad brown eyes he could not stop the realization something had happened. He also realized she had felt it as well.
But when Hermione blinked it was as if sobriety returned and she quickly settled back into her chair, small patches of red rising up on her cheeks.
The moments that followed found them clearing the table. Harry declared the dishes off limits seeing how he was already dressed so he shooed her off to her room to dress while he cleaned up with the help of a little magic.
It was a good feeling to use his own wand again. He found he could now perform just about any spell without having to say a word and since he had not really practiced command-less magic he thought it quite remarkable. He was almost certain it was because he had mended his wand with the Elder Wand that gave him this unique ability. It was only a guess on his part but after years of being subjected to strange things he liked to think he had become a little wiser as a result. It still left him dumb as an ox compared to Hermione but he thought maybe some of her cleverness had rubbed off along the way.
Hermione reappeared looking quite comfortable in a pair of kaki trousers and white button-up blouse. She had set her long mane into a rather intricate looking French braid that hung to her lower back.
Even though she still appeared thin she looked much better than she had in the many days previous. The worry lines on her forehead still remained prominent but she seemed to move with much more purpose. Harry couldn't help but look down at his own clothes and got the sudden feeling he was dressed like a homeless person. His worn out ill-fitting togs were getting old even for him.
Moments later they found themselves making their way to the Spell Damage ward within the Wizard hospital. Making their way toward her mother's private room they spotted a still-confunded Gilderoy Lockhart and were surprised to see Neville Longbottom talking with one of the Healers holding a rather large bouquet of flowers.
They spotted Headmistress McGonagall in a hushed discussion with two Healers just outside the Granger's room door. When she turned and spotted them a sad smile crossed her aged features.
"Well Ms. Granger," McGonagall said, "I see you've decided to take Mr. Potter into your confidence."
Hermione only nodded as the Healers took their leave.
"I must admit I am pleased with your decision. It is difficult enough what you are going through. Doing thus alone only serves to exacerbate the situation. In times of great tribulation one needs support from one's friends," the Headmistresses gaze shifted pointedly to Harry, "Isn't that correct Mr. Potter?"
Harry glanced at Hermione whose expression remained impassive.
"Yes Professor," Harry replied not taking his eyes off Hermione, "You're absolutely right."
Hermione shifted a bit uncomfortably but lifted her chin as if to tell them she was quite capable of dealing with whatever she had to quite on her own but inside she realized the Headmistress was right as usual. She wanted to steer the attention somewhere else so she turned to face McGonagall.
"Is there any changes with my parents?" She asked expecting the obvious.
"I'm pleased to report your mother seems to be showing very slight signs of improvement in a few small areas of her past but other than that…the situation is much the same. It doesn't mean we are giving up by any means you understand Ms. Granger. We will not rest until a proper solution is uncovered and your parents are restored to their former selves. I remain confident we will find it."
"Headmistress," she asked, "I was wondering if it were possible to get permission to search the library at Hogwarts for anything that might help in shedding some light on my parent's problem?"
"Of course Ms. Granger," the Headmistress responded without hesitation, "Any publication or reference material at Hogwarts is at your disposal. I have also taken the liberty to request you have unrestricted access to any information regarding memory problems contained within the reference material here at St. Mungo's as well as the Ministry and the Department of Mysteries."
"While I realize the latter has been thoroughly searched I am also well aware of your acute ability to glean subtle information where some may not have the wherewithal to find it. I have been assured by the Head Unspeakable of his full cooperation in this matter."
"Thank you Headmistress," Hermione said with a heavy exhale, "I appreciate your assistance."
"Not at all Ms. Granger," the old Transfiguration Professor said, "It's the least I can do. Not meaning to change the subject I was wondering if you've given any further thought about returning to Hogwarts to complete your studies?"
Hermione seemed to hedge slightly but McGonagall offered a small but tight-lipped smile.
"I realize this is probably an inappropriate time to inquire but I would like to offer you some incentives for you to return," again she turned to gaze at Harry for a moment with the same small smile, "I would make the same inquiry of you Mr. Potter however Kingsley has informed me of the offer in which he has presented to you to become a member of his staff."
The Headmistress turned back to Hermione and continued. Hermione, in turn, glanced questioningly at Harry for an instant.
"I realize you could very well pass your N.E.W.T. level finals without much difficulty but I would like to offer you the post of Head Girl as well as the unrestricted ability to select your own curriculum for your final term. You would be able to select any class you desire to complete your studies. It would be utterly ridiculous for us to think you would be anything but completely successful."
Hermione's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open in amazement at what she was hearing. This was completely unprecedented and knew at once there had never been a student who attended Hogwarts or any other Magical Training Academy that had ever been given such an honor. She didn't quite know how to respond.
McGonagall recognized her young protégé's hesitance.
"You do not have to respond at once Ms. Granger. There is still time before the next term starts in the fall. Think it over won't you?"
Hermione had turned quite pink upon receiving that request.
"I will Headmistress and thank you," Hermione replied then added, "not just for the kind and very generous offer but for all your help with…well, everything!"
"Nonsense," McGonagall said as she drifted away, "There are those of us who feel just as responsible for all this as you Ms. Granger. Please keep me apprised of any breakthroughs you may find in your research."
"Yes ma'am." Hermione answered, "You'll be the first to know."
When Harry reached for the doorknob to open her parent's room door Hermione placed a hand gently on his arm and looked seriously into his eyes.
"Harry, what did the Headmistress mean about Kingsley's offer?"
Harry quickly told her what Kingsley had proposed to him several nights before when he came to strengthen the wards on #12.
Hermione said nothing but the look on her face told Harry that she didn't really approve. He knew she would not want him putting himself into the path of rouge Death Eaters curses again but she also knew she had no right to tell him what he should do.
"I told him I would think about it. I didn't say I would do it. As a matter of fact I told him my first reaction was to respectfully decline but…"
"Have you thought about it?" She asked.
"Not really," Harry answered honestly, "What with all the funeral services and worrying about you…to be honest I've not given it a second thought."
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"You're worrying about me? Why?"
Harry gave her a definitively flat look of utter annoyance.
"You're joking right?" He said with a bit of a frown.
With that they went in to visit with her damaged parents for most of the morning. Neither remembered Harry but he put on his bravest face and saw first hand what Hermione had been enduring completely alone. It was almost impossible for him to process what was happening. Her parents were like two complete strangers who were trying to process untenable information in their strange surroundings.
They often spoke as if they were in pain as they tried to recall even the most minute details of a simple memory. It was excruciating to watch and they weren't even his family.
By the time they had emerged from her parent's room to go get some lunch Harry was mentally exhausted. He felt queasy and ill at ease. His heart ached for his best friend as he watched her endure it all with a level of grace and patience he had never seen and his admiration for her increased exponentially during that visit.
As they made their way into the Visitor's Tea Room and Hospital Shop on the fifth floor they spotted Neville sitting at a table nibbling on a sandwich. Hermione glanced significantly at Harry.
He knew why Neville was there but he wasn't sure Hermione did. He recalled how Neville had asked him those years ago not to let on about his own parent's plight. He had never told anyone…not even Hermione.
Now it seemed a bit pointless to keep it all a secret but he still felt some sort of loyalty to Neville so he resigned himself to keep mum unless Neville decided to tell her himself.
When Neville spotted the two he was out of his seat in a blink looking quite surprised and pleased to see them.
"Harry…Hermione," Neville said with a huge smile, "It's really great to see you!"
"You too, Neville," Harry replied shaking Neville's hand.
"What are you doing here Neville?" Hermione asked a bit nervously.
Neville took a step back giving Harry a significant look.
"You never told!" Neville said with a big smile.
Hermione looked at Harry perplexed but Harry just returned Neville's smile and shrugged.
"You asked me not to Neville, remember?"
"True," Neville said still looking shocked, "but I thought you'd tell Hermione. I figured you told her everything."
"I usually did but well," Harry said glancing at a still confused Hermione, "I figured if you wanted to tell the others I would leave it up to you."
Finally Hermione put her hands on her hips and glared at both boys.
"Would someone mind telling me what this is all about?"
Neville gestured to the table where he was sitting and they all settled into seats. Neville recounted what had transpired back then as close as he could remember with Harry filling in a few bits of information here and there. When he was done the look on Hermione's face was completely unreadable.
She sat silently for a moment then her face slowly crumpled and tears began to fall. She reached up to hide herself from the others.
Both Harry and Neville became alarmed. Harry reached for her and laid a hand gently on her shoulder.
"Hermione what's wrong?" He asked deeply concerned, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just thought…"
But what he thought upset her wasn't even close.
"It's not that Harry," Hermione said through her bitter tears, "I've been a complete self-absorbed fool!"
That statement shocked both boys as they sat there trying to understand why she had said it. Neville produced a handkerchief form somewhere and handed it to Hermione who took it with a quavering `thank you.' She then took a deep breath and began to explain.
"Don't you see? All this time poor Neville has been dealing with much the same thing as I have but he's had to deal with that all on his own. He's asked no-one for help and has asked for no sympathy from anyone. Here I've been running about like a banshee thrashing like a haddock out of water making a complete nuisance of myself while making everyone else's life miserable! I'm such a stupid weak little girl!"
It was Neville's turn to look properly confused.
Harry took it upon himself to tell Neville as much of Hermione's parent's troubles as he could remember while Hermione continued to chastise herself silently. When Harry was finished Neville looked up at Hermione sadly.
"Hermione don't be ridiculous. You're not stupid or weak and you're certainly not a fool. I'm not going to pretend it's been easy but there came a point when I simply had to accept my fate just like everyone else. At least I can still see and talk to my parents even though they don't understand. I think about Harry who lost both his parents and I suppose I feel fortunate…in a way. My parents are still here."
"I know it doesn't sound like much of a consolation to you right now Hermione but if what Harry said is true then you've got a chance to bring them back. Don't loose sight of that. I stay strong for my folks because if I don't then it's like admitting the Death Eaters won and I'll never let that happen. You've got to concentrate on finding the answers just as Harry said. Nothing is more important than that."
Hearing those words come out of Neville was not only surprising to both Harry and Hermione it felt like a balm to her battered nerves and self control.
Harry looked at Neville with a surprised expression and smiled.
"Well said Neville and you're exactly right!"
Neville blushed beet red but smiled back at Harry just the same. Hermione reached across the table and took Neville's hand in hers.
"You're absolutely right Neville," she said. Her features took on a look of determined defiance, "No more feeling sorry for myself."
"That's the spirit," Neville glowed, "Well I best be off. My Gran's doing a bit of shopping while I have been visiting. If I don't find her she'll be buying a bunch of her barmy old moth-eaten hats. Those bloody things scare me."
Harry and Hermione couldn't help but laugh.
After Neville departed Harry watched Hermione for a moment.
"Feel better?" He asked.
"I'm surprised at you Harry?" Hermione said rather cryptically.
"Erm…" He didn't know what to say to that.
"All this time you knew about Neville's parents and you said nothing."
Harry didn't know if she was admonishing him for keeping a secret or if it was something else until she offered him a sad smile.
"It just proves what I've known about you all along," she said, "that you are one of the most trusted friends a person could have."
It was Harry's turn to blush. After they had eaten some lunch they made their way back to spend some more time with Hermione's parents. This time was a bit easier for Harry having already been exposed to the difficulties that presented themselves to Hermione.
She seemed much more like herself when it came time to leave for the day. Harry found himself thinking it was their conversation with Neville and the fact that Hermione wasn't alone in dealing with her problem that made the difference. He reminded himself to thank Neville next time he saw him.
The next several weeks were spent in and out of the various magical departments trying to find any information that would shed even a shred of light on the problem that plagued Hermione's parents with absolutely no success.
With each passing day Hermione became more desperate and dejected. She had even gone so far as to meet with a Muggle brain surgeon but even he could shed little light on a possible cause.
Harry found himself becoming vastly educated about the inner workings of the human mind and the many spells and incantations that affected it but to him it was mostly pointless. None of it helped Hermione's parents get better.
They spent as much time as they could with her folks, Harry there right beside her. Hermione's quest had unwittingly become his.
As the summer dragged on with no answers Hermione was slowly loosing hope. Harry wanted to say something to boost her spirits but had no idea what to do or say. He simply stayed by her side and did as much as he could to help.
He was afraid if they didn't find a breakthrough soon he would have to watch his best friend fall completely apart and he didn't know how he could prevent it.
They had heard absolutely nothing from Ron during that time. The torrid reports of his nocturnal behavior had all but ceased but his new book hit the stores with a vengeance.
It was the talk of the Wizard world. Many touted it as a masterpiece while some literary critics said it was the best look inside what had really happened in those final days of Voldemort's reign of terror.
For Hermione, she had neither time, patience nor the desire to read it and since Harry was by her side most every day he hadn't given it much thought.
That all changed one evening when Harry arrived at #12 to find something very strange going on at his home.
He arrived by floo into the old dungeon kitchen when he was confronted with what appeared to be articles of clothing everywhere. Kreacher was seated at the table eating a bowl of something grumbling miserably to himself.
"Kreacher," Harry asked surprised by the mess, "What in Merlin's name?"
"Kreacher tried to keep them out Harry Potter but Kreacher was told to mind his business. They came in through the floo late last evening while Kreacher was sleeping. They made such a racket as to wake my mistress from her slumber. They taunted and laughed at my mistress. She bade them to leave but they just laughed and mocked her. Finally Kreacher was forced to draw her curtain when they went up to Master Regulus' room. They have defiled the sanctity of my former Master's room!"
Kreacher broke down in tears.
"Who Kreacher?"
The old wrinkled elf sniffed and looked at Harry miserably.
"The one you call Weasley, the blood traitor to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black!"
Harry's blood froze. He couldn't understand why Ron would come here all of a sudden but he was going to get to the bottom if things very quickly.
He bound up the stairs. There seemed to be a trail of clothing all the way through the house. He followed them up the stairs to the second floor as he saw them stop at the door to Regulus' room at the end of the hall on the right just across from Sirius' old room.
As he approached he saw the door slightly ajar and he could hear soft snoring coming from the other side. At first he recoiled at the idea of peeking into the room but then realized he was being an idiot.
This is my house now! He's come in here mucking things up, terrorizing Kreacher, causing a complete ruckus without so much as a `how do you do'!
Harry's irritation spiked as he slowly pushed the door open. He saw a girl's naked bum. She had one leg thrown across Ron's. Ron was spread eagle on his back, mouth hanging slack. They both seemed to be completely passed out cold.
Harry looked down to see an empty bottle of Firewhiskey lying in the floor at the foot of the bed.
His first thought was to rouse the both of them and throw them out on the curb but he realized that would solve nothing. He would let them sleep for now but as soon as they woke up they would be out on their collective bums. He was certain of that.
As he turned to make his way back down the stairs to apologize to Kreacher he decided he might as well collect their things and set them just inside the door for when they woke up. He didn't want them traipsing about the house in their birthday suits.
Once he had reached the main hall he picked up some very skimpy black lacy knickers and was holding them up to the light examining them with a bit of curiosity when he heard the fireplace in the kitchen flare.
Hermione! Merlin's beard, why did she have to pick this very moment to show up unannounced?
He tucked the knickers into the pile of clothing in his arms and dashed to the stairs that led down into the kitchen. He met her half way across the floor.
"Hello Harry," she started to say, "Sorry to…" She stopped, gaping at the clothing in his arms with an odd look on her face, "I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"
"Wha…no! Of course not…" But as he said it they could hear footsteps on the floor above.
Hermione just blinked and turned back toward the fireplace when Kreacher mumbled.
"The blood traitor is awake."
"What did he say?" Hermione asked as she looked up at the ceiling.
"Hermione!" Harry warned but it was too late. She had dashed around him and made for the stairs.
Harry turned in pursuit and bounded up after her, still clutching the bundle of clothing. As he made the top of the stairs he found Hermione standing just off the stairs. As he came up behind her ready to explain they heard the door to Regulus' room open and a girl strode out turning to a door at the end of the hall that went to the loo. She was as naked as the day she was born.
Apparently she had not noticed the two of them standing in the hallway or maybe she simply didn't care. As she disappeared into the bathroom they heard Ron call from the room.
"Oy Cassie," Ron slurred, "Where'd ja' get offth to love?"
Harry could see Hermione's whole body go rigid. He watched as her hands clenched into fists. With a quick jerk she pulled her wand and took a step toward the open door. Harry dropped the bundle of clothes and was about to reach for her when she stopped.
Her shoulders slumped and her arms dropped limply by her side. It was as if she had come to the conclusion that whatever she had planned to do simply wasn't worth the trouble.
Without a word she turned and, without looking at Harry she descended the stairs and turned down the hall back toward the kitchen.
Harry wasn't sure what he should do but he was certain he didn't want to be caught there watching the naked girl come out of the bathroom so he quickly scooped up the bundle of clothing, dashed forward and threw them into the open door then turned and fled down the stairs as quietly as he could. By the time he reached the door to the kitchen he heard the fireplace flare again. She was gone.
Harry's first though was to go after her but he was aware how angry Kreacher was at his two unwanted guests. He figured he better stay or there was no telling what Kreacher might do.
Bugger you Ronald Weasley! I should curse you myself!
Harry plopped down on the bench across from Kreacher. He looked at the tired old elf and felt terrible for what the little guy had to put up with.
"I'm sorry you had to go through this Kreacher. I didn't know Ron was capable of such ridiculous behavior. Why don't you use the spare room for now and we'll clean and scourgify everything tomorrow. You should try and get some sleep."
Kreacher nodded. He climbed down from the bench, placed his bowl and spoon in the sink and went off to bed mumbling under his breath the whole way.
Harry didn't blame him one bit.
Harry sat at the kitchen table for a long time lost in thought. He had come to the conclusion that, where it concerned Hermione Granger, Ron Bilius Weasley had just driven the last proverbial nail in the equally proverbial coffin lid of what could have possibly been a relationship they could have shared if Ron had not, for some bizarre reason, lost his bloody mind.
But as he sat in the dwindling firelight he couldn't find it in himself to feel bad for Ron. It wasn't just because Ron had caused the demise of the possibility of a relationship with Hermione but because he, himself was beginning to develop feeling for his best and most trusted friend.
Part of him felt guilty for that. It was that part of him that made him enter the Chamber of Secrets to rescue Ginny. It was the part of him that made him rush to the Department of Mysteries to rescue his Godfather. It was also the part of him that made him face certain death when he finally realized the truth.
The other part, the part that might have lingered even after the demise of his nemesis, was elated by this development.
As he sat there the images of the locket Horcrux swept across his memory. He remembered what they looked like as if he was standing there at that very moment. The realization that those images could in any way be prophetic at all made Harry's hair on his arms and neck stand on end.
Could that be the reason why Ron went off the deep end? Did he somehow know those visions would come to pass? Am I guilty of making them come true?
Harry suddenly felt sick. He felt dirty and evil as if he were playing right into the hands of Voldemort as if he were reaching beyond the grave to touch his life.
NO!
Harry lurched to his feet standing with his fists and his teeth clenched.
That's ridiculous! Voldemort is DEAD! He's gone! There must be another reason why Ron's done what he has. You're being stupid.
With that Harry stomped off to his own room cursing Ron's pure-blood heritage.
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