Title: Between The Shadow and The Soul
By: Gryffindor Girl
Rating: R
Genre: UST, Angst, Thriller, Action
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & its characters belong to JK Rowling, this is just a piece of fanfiction. Some characters and settings used are created by me.
Words: 6,800 of 35,000 total (approx)
For: Lady Bluestar and her request prompt: Duelling, serious or playful.
Summary: When Hermione tries to discover where Harry is going at nights, she finds much more than she bargained for.
Warnings: Low grade violence, non explicit sex, swears, poss infidelity.
Chapter Three
"Again."
I close my eyes, hating that word. I wipe my forehead with my forearm but it doesn't do anything; both are as sweaty as the other.
"Get up."
I answer through clenched teeth as I scramble to my feet.
"Alright. Geez."
"There's no rest..."
"In the dome, yes I know that, Harry." I finish the sentence in my head with some colourful adjectives.
I stand to face him and he's trying not to smile again which enrages me. We've been training for two hours solid and he is relentless. Drilling me on Stunning Spells and Shielding Spells so persistently that I've overcome my reluctance to hex him; now I'm itching to sit him on his arse.
A stubborn part of me won't admit that the thing that irks me most is that he's gotten so good at duelling. Much better than me.
I try and clear my mind as he's told me to - trying to shed the anger. It doesn't work entirely I can tell, because my body bind spell powers out of my wand so forcefully that it drives me back a little. Harry deflects it with a lazy flick of his wand and counters with a shot aimed from behind his back - just to piss me off more.
It's in that moment that I decide I'm through with niceties.
I duck his hex, running quickly to my left. Then, just as he turns his body to face me, I pretend to trip - falling in a roll on the ground. He lunges forward slightly, as if he's going to catch me and I aim my wand at him from under my elbow.
Silver ropes materialise quickly and snap around his wand arm and on further to wrap his torso. His eyes widen in surprise as I aim a second rope around his ankles, drawing them together tightly and causing him to topple hard to the ground.
I stand up, brushing off my jeans and walk over to him. I gesture with my wand and the ropes dissolve. I nudge his leg with my toe.
"Come on, Harry. There's no rest in the dome."
I catch a glimpse of his grin as he pushes up onto all fours and then rises quickly to his feet.
"Now that's more like it."
*
We duel all day, with only a few breaks for drinks.
I'm exhausted, spent. Tired and aching and sweaty and hungry and damn hot.
And exhilarated.
I'm more of a match for Harry now. And I can tell he's trying harder finally. We're starting to read each other's tactics - anticipate each other's moves.
We're setting up to start again and I'm retying my ponytail when he takes his shirt off.
He chucks it on a chair and heads back up the steps to the platform. I watch him, forgetting to follow.
"You coming?"
"Uh, yeah."
I wipe my hands on the seat of my jeans and move over towards him.
When I'm facing him in the ring, I really can't look at him properly. There's too much smooth expanse of lightly tanned skin - glistening a little with sweat. Muscles play underneath that skin and they're distracting; making it near impossible for me to refocus. I try to, because I know he can sense something is wrong, and I desperately don't want him to see the effect he's having on me.
He bows. I follow suit and we start moving around each other, but I find I can't really look him in the eyes.
He fires a Stinging hex and it grazes my forearm like a whip. I tighten my fist around my wand and try to shake it off - those little ones hurt like crazy. I force myself to look at him.
He's so different. And he's not. He's my Harry but he...it's as if he has aged about five years since I last spent time around him. And that body. Well.
It's not helping things.
He frowns at me as I only just deflect another Stinger from him.
"What are ya waiting for? Let's go."
I nod, trying to focus again. I flick a swift Expeliarmus at him and he repels it too easily. He makes a disapproving snort.
"What the hell was that?"
I shake my head, trying to get myself back into form. I conjure a decent stunning spell but he completely sidesteps it and then before I know it, he turns, steps quickly forward and catches me in one arm, spinning me around until my back slams hard up against his chest. He holds one of my hands immobile, with the forearm tightly braced against my throat. I struggle against him - more than a little humiliated.
"Harry..."
"Don't talk, just act."
I feel his breath against my ear and I struggle against the feelings crashing through me like waves. I strain against him again but that just makes it worse, I can feel my reaction to him so strongly it's blurring my senses; my logic is struggling to make sense of it. I think of jabbing my other elbow sharply back into his solar plexus but I can't seem to locate my limbs or make them move the way I want them too. All I'm aware of is his chest against my back and his nose and lips close to my ear as he holds me fast.
A bell chimes long and loud and the green dome flickers and disappears. Harry's hold on me loosens instantly.
"Ginny."
He's down off the crucis and dragging his shirt over his head before I even realise he's moved away from me. I stand there, feeling stunned and stupid as he whips back around to me, holding his hand up.
"Stay here. Don't come downstairs; I'll get rid of her."
I think I nod, I can't remember. But either way he's gone suddenly and I'm left to realise what an idiot I've just made of myself.
I can't understand my body betraying me like that - reacting in that way.
This is Harry. Harry.
I jump down from the platform and somehow find myself walking to the bed. I sit on the end and then fall back to stare at the windows in the ceiling.
"Crap."
I have no idea what all of that was about.
*
I open my eyes. The room is dark.
I sit up and look around. The platform is empty and abandoned at the end of the long room. I scan the room, catching the moonlight touching the banister of the small balcony outside.
Harry isn't anywhere to be seen. And I'm starving.
I look down at my hand; I slept still clutching my wand. I remember then that Harry went to Ginny and realise suddenly that I may be overstaying my welcome. I go to stand up and the door opens.
It's Harry. He's levitating a tray behind him that looks like it has a meal and a tall glass of orange juice on it.
I watch him as he walks towards me on the bed.
He looks serious; a little troubled even. In all honesty I'm still trying to shake the sleep off, I hadn't moved an inch - I'd slept like a log.
I scoot over so he can place the tray on the bed. He sits on the other side of it.
"Hungry?"
I nod and try not to be too obvious that I want to inhale everything straight off the plate without chewing. He must be able to tell though because he nudges the plate closer to me. I pick it up and start eating; the pasta is hot and delicious.
"Have you eaten already?" I ask between mouthfuls. He nods. I realise he must have grabbed something with Ginny.
"I'm sorry."
I stop eating and stare at him.
"What for?"
He runs a hand over his face. "I went a little too far earlier. I'm just....I worry that you're not going to be ready for these creeps. They won't cut you any slack."
I put my fork down, feeling the pinch of his words. He's right. I have to approach this like I would any project.
"I know that, Harry." I reach for his hand and squeeze it. "Don't worry. Failing isn't an option."
He squeezes back, smiling. "That's the Hermione I know."
I smile weakly and go back to eating. After a short silence, I find I can't stop myself from asking.
"So...how's Ginny?"
He shrugs; I only just make it out in the dark.
"She's fine."
The subject feels definitely closed and so I go back to my food in silence.
I'm just about done when he stands up and starts tiding a little.
"You could stay here."
His words make my stomach flip weirdly.
"Get an early start."
I look around the dark room. He's right. I really need to make this a priority. Tomorrow, I'll call into work and tell them I can't...
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him take his damn top off again.
I almost sigh. Why does he have to do that? It's warm up here, sure, but...
"So?"
I whip my head around to him, suddenly unsure what my response is supposed to be. I figure that's a good reason why I should leave now.
"I'm gonna ...go. I...I should go into work first thing and get the week off."
He nods his approval as he turns on a lamp. The light serves to highlight the lines in his stomach, especially those ones leading down into the low waistband of his jeans.
I stand and start to quickly gather up my things.
"Okay so I'll see you tomorrow, as soon as I can."
I don't even look at him again before I apparate home with a sharp crack.
*
Ginny tracks me down at midnight. My bedroom floo sputters into life and I don't know how long she's been waiting before I finally get up and throw the powder in to answer.
"Hermione! Where have you been?"
Any sleep fog that was still hanging over me pretty much evaporates instantly. I can't believe I forgot to get back to her.
"Uh..Ginny, hi. Sorry... I got called away for work." I throw up the same story that I did to Ron and hope that neither of them think to check it with my department.
"Oh. Well, did you find anything?"
My gut wrenches with guilt. Ginny's face is fairly calm but I can see the cracks in her composure - and I remember the last time I spoke with her and how heartbroken she was. I swallow thickly.
"No...I'm so sorry Ginny, I lost him." She doesn't say anything and I find myself speaking again. "I'll ...keep trying."
Her ember face brightens a little and my heart sinks. She nods.
"Thanks Hermione. I went to see him tonight and he seemed okay but ...he still won't let me stay."
That strange feeling in my stomach comes back and I'm revolted in myself that I feel a little happy about the fact that he turned her away. I nod.
"I'll let you know if I find anything."
I have no idea why I'm saying that - setting myself up for more lying. I really need to get off this call.
"Alright. Hey, thanks."
She disappears and I'm left staring at the floor, my hands on my knees. I kneel there like that for a while, just feeling the guilt shift through me.
I catch sight of my inner wrist and bring it up to my face. The mark seems darker now; etched deeper into my skin.
I realise then I completely forgot to question Harry about it. I stare at the patterns - like thorns weaving out and in on itself. I rub it briskly with my palm and stand up, trying not to let a sense of foreboding overwhelm me.
I pull my dressing gown tightly around myself and get back into bed.
*
It's easier than I expected to get the time off work. I floo my boss to tell him I'm feeling unwell and he volunteers that I take some of my unused leave days and relax for the rest of the week. I think I almost wanted him to be mad. Maybe tell me that I can't surely take the time off. I guess that means that a part of me wants to deny that this is all happening - that I'm in deep in so many ways.
I floo to Grimmauld.
He's in the kitchen, eating breakfast - fully clothed, thank Merlin. I make some tea and we share an easy silence and it helps me feel like my reactions last night were just the fatigue messing with my brain.
He grabs an apple and leads us upstairs. We pass his old bedroom on the way - I glance in, noting that it still looks as if he uses it and I comment on that.
"Yeah, I still live down here, according to anyone who visits anyway."
I guess he means Ginny. He reaches the door to the attic and mutters a charm to unlock it before holding it open for me.
"But I spend most of my time up here."
I step past, ignoring how close I have to get to him to do that. I've got to start this day the way that I mean it to continue.
"So, what's the story with these ...tattoos?" I turn my wrist around to him, running a finger over the thorny design.
He takes my hand, but he seems to hesitate in looking at it.
I wait, and in the meantime, he looks at me.
His eyes study my face, wandering over my features slowly, like no one has before. I can't understand his expression, I only know that he's taking too long to speak and I feel strangely nervous now; a feeling that I've never felt around Harry.
His thumb drags across the inside of my wrist just before he finally looks down at it.
He presses his lips together and nods.
"It's the mark of the curse. It'll disappear when you're released from it."
I glance at his wrist and now I realise why he's wearing that wide leather band. I shrug and gesture at his.
"Well then maybe you might be able to point me in the right direction for one of those."
He nods and drops my hand.
"Yeah sure. I'll sort it." He turns abruptly and walks towards the platform.
We get in a few hours of practice, and I really feel like I'm improving with my speed and reaction. He gives me a few pointers occasionally and it feels easier to swallow my pride and just take them on board; I think I finally realise this isn't school anymore. This is real - and a reality that Harry has been living for months and so I'm going to ignore the control-freak in me and take every bit of direction he gives.
And even though I'm feeling more confident in some ways, in others I'm worried I might not be able to do this.
He must be thinking the same thing, when he makes a suggestion after lunch.
We've shared a meal that Kreacher brought us together on the floor, both too hungry to care for heading to a table or even chairs. Besides, it's relaxed and warm here, in the sunlight streaming through the windows in the ceiling and I'm relishing the rest for my tired limbs.
"I think we need to step it up a notch."
I glance across at him while he chews on a sandwich, staring at the floor.
"How?"
He looks up. "I think you need to practice on someone other than me."
I frown, confused.
"How are we going to manage that?"
He smiles grimly.
"I'll show you."
After we've finished eating and drinking and resting for a bit, we make our way back to the crucis. But instead of heading to the middle of the ring to put the wards up, Harry stays on the edge, and points his wand towards the empty centre.
"Geminio Homenum."
A silvery mist materialises in the middle of the crucis, quickly shifting to eddy into a small whirlpool which starts to move faster and faster. It rises from the ground as it does, and I can suddenly make out the foot of some black robes.
The mist travels higher until it begins to take a definite, human shape. The figure is clothed in black robes and fairly generic looking; that is until the mist starts to reveal the neck - and then the face.
The skin is chalk-white with red cat-like eyes. It's a face I thought I'd never have to see again and I gasp aloud; I can't help it.
Harry takes my hand wordlessly in his.
I watch as the replica of Voldemort stands there regarding us, blinking his black slit pupils. The vision flickers occasionally, and even though it's barely detectable, that flickering still gives me some comfort that the lifelike image in front of me isn't the real thing.
Harry steps forward and bows. The disturbing image of Voldemort does the same.
They begin to circle each other and the wards spring up automatically, forming the dome over their heads. Some of the green lines fall down in front of me at the same time and form a small enclosure around me- fencing me off against the wall of the dome. I watch as Harry and Voldemort continue to circle each other from behind my barrier and I won't lie; the instinct to break out and stand next to him against our greatest foe is so strong, I nearly can't control it. I try a few deep breaths and busy my hands by fidgeting with my wand.
Harry throws the first curse, a Septumsempra that Voldemort deflects with a shielding spell and a swift step to his right.
The image of Voldemort counters with a strong Body Bind curse, which Harry has to dive and roll to avoid. Harry apparates into white smoke, something he's told me is a very helpful evasive manoeuvre and that I've been practicing a lot.
Voldemort evaporates into smoke too, a dense black, and they chase each other past me, both of them occasionally materialising to fire a curse at the other.
Harry suddenly changes direction and his curse catches the tail end of Voldemort's apparition, causing him to appear and fall hard to the ground.
Harry becomes slowly visible as he stands over his opponent, still lying prone on the floor. His face darkens as he raises his wand hand to point directly down on the figure. I barely see his lips move as he utters the curse.
"Crucio."
The image of Voldemort instantly starts writhing on the ground, a curious twisting that's even stranger when I see that the face registers no pain or emotion. I expect Harry to stop, but when I look back at him, his face is set in a grim determination and he stabs the wand down again, intensifying his assault.
"Harry....stop..."
I hear myself speak, the words barely a whisper against the green barrier in front of me. He still doesn't relent, and some sort of perverse sympathy strikes me for the imaginary image still thrashing around at his feet.
"Harry! Stop!"
I pound on the walls of my little cell and it reverberates loudly, ripples radiating out until the whole dome shudders from my blows. He turns around to me and I don't recognise the darkness in his eyes. I beat the wall again with my fist.
"Stop! That's enough."
He blinks and suddenly it's gone. He walks towards me, rubbing a hand over his face and waves his wand over the wall keeping me trapped. I stumble forward slightly and he catches me by my waist. I look up at him.
He doesn't speak and I don't know why but I rub his arms, like I'm comforting him. He bends and touches his forehead to mine briefly, smiling a little.
"You dolt. That's what I'm supposed to do."
His voice is gentle and it calms me some. I nod, feeling a little sheepish now.
"I know. I just...I didn't like it."
His expression is soft and I focus on the familiar bright green of his eyes. I'm beginning to feel that might be my only reminder now of the Harry I used to know. He lifts his hand and brushes my cheek with his knuckles.
"Come on. Your turn."
I spend the next three hours facing off against the apparition of Voldemort and it gets easier as I go, from the first, where I felt genuine terror to the point where I can really focus on the spells and curses I'm trying to perfect as we duel.
Harry really is a great teacher - as I've always thought he would be, ever since our days at school. He is more patient today, when it's me against Voldemort, but I think that's because I make real progress. I still can't get near an Unforgiveable though. We talk about it over a drinks break.
"It's not real, Mione. He doesn't feel it."
"I know that."
"Picture all the people we lost. All the people he took from us. That's what helps me."
"I know, Harry." I try not to feel irritated. I know he's only trying to prepare me. "I just...I'm not ready."
He shakes his head but he doesn't seem mad. Then the bells chime - a different tone from the other day. His face drops slightly.
"That's Ron."
I freeze, unsure of what to do.
There's been a strange tension between Harry and Ron, ever since the battle. Nothing that anyone else would pick up on, but things are just not as easy between them, I can tell. I put it down to the moment when Ron left us on the Horcrux Hunt. But funnily enough, it's not necessarily from Harry. It seems to come mainly from Ron.
I wait for Harry to speak but he seems to be waiting for me. I shrug.
"What shall we do?"
He pauses, and wipes a hand over his face.
"I'll go. Do I say you're here?"
"I've told Ron that I'm visiting my parents."
Harry nods, pursing his lips.
"Right. Well you better stay here then."
We stand there a little longer and the bell chimes again. He catches my eye and holds it for a moment. I start to feel my face flushing, the blood creeping up my neck. I look away.
He turns and takes off his shirt, wiping himself down with a towel before he leaves.
*
Hogsmeade Village is deserted, the streets empty and snow filled. I pull my robes tighter around myself, following Harry again but this time it's at his request.
Ron had only stayed for an hour, just popping in to see Harry on his way home from work. Harry didn't have much to report, other than that Ron asked if Harry had heard from me. He'd told him that he hadn't.
After a quick dinner, he'd asked if I was up for a 'field trip'. I was feeling surprising good; I'd noticed that already my stamina was improving from our sessions. I'd agreed and we'd side-long apparated here, to Hogsmeade.
I realise where we were going when we turned into a familiar dark street. The lights of the Hogs Head glow softly against the snowy backdrop.
"Aberforth."
He nods without looking at me.
"I think it's time you met with him."
I just nod back. I've never been sure of Aberforth; he was always so gruff, and so unlike his brother. But I trust Harry's judgement now more than ever.
Aberforth meets us at the door as if he's been expecting us. He turns and walks back inside nearly before the door is fully open and Harry just follows him without any greeting or discussion.
We walk down a corridor; the same one that leads to the room with the portrait of Arianna in it but instead we make a sharp left just before we get there. At the end of a few more short passages, we arrive at a wooden statue of a goat playing a fiddle and prancing high on its hind legs. One horn is broken, the tip snapped off and this is the one that Aberforth reaches out and grasps. The horn glows briefly and then the statue shifts forward and turns, revealing a narrow opening in the stone wall behind. Aberforth steps in and twists to the side and then he's swallowed whole by the small cavity.
Harry follows suit, stooping slightly, and even though it looks like he won't fit, he's quickly through. I step up and mimic the way they both entered and suddenly I'm through into a large square room, with a flight of stairs forming another dark hole in the middle of the floor.
Aberforth is gone already and Harry is just descending. The three candles in the wrought iron candlebra fixed to the wall don't offer enough light for me to find my footing; I light my wand to help.
The stone steps seem to go on forever; I start to lose count and just try and keep up with the end of Harry's robes. Then suddenly they finish, the sensation jarring as our descent abruptly stops.
We're still in darkness and I have to grip the arm of Harry's robes to steady myself.
Then the room floods with light and it takes a while for me to adjust; I hold a hand up to shield my eyes from the bright light radiating from above.
Finally when I can see again, I take a look around the huge room.
There's a platform in the middle - as I expected. It's as large as the one in the Duelling Den and there are tiered seats on the walls on either side too. The room isn't as big as the warehouse but otherwise, it's obvious this would serve any duelling needs just as easily.
Aberforth is already up on the platform and Harry is getting up there too. I'm not sure whether or not I should follow so I hover by the steps leading up to the ring. Aberforth turns and gestures sternly to me.
"Well, get up here, girl. We're not here to stand around and look pretty."
Embarrassingly, I feel my face flush. Even if he doesn't act like his brother, he still looks like him - with the same bright coloured eyes - and I can't help but feel like I'm being told off by the principal. I hurry to join them and I can't help but notice Harry smiling slightly. Aberforth assesses me like livestock and then speaks about me as if I'm not there.
"How's she been doing? No good?"
Harry shakes his head.
"No, she's doing well. We're just having trouble with Unforgiveables."
Aberforth grunts. "Figures. Well, we've gotta get her out of that."
I stand as still as possible, determined not to let my irritation show. Harry just nods his agreement.
Aberforth activates the dome and Harry goes and takes his robes off, leaving them in a pile by the wall. I do the same, tying my hair in a ponytail while I walk over to stand opposite the two of them. If they want me to show what I've got, well I'm not about to let anyone down.
The older man assesses me, looking me up and down as if considering a racehorse. Then he turns to his side - the opposite one to where Harry is standing - and mutters a spell I can't hear.
Instantly, silvery smoke starts to pool and whirl and rise, creating an opponent like Harry did earlier that day with Voldemort. Aberforth is watching me closely and so I'm determined not to be surprised by the figure he's creating. When the smoke reveals a full black skirt leading up to a black fitted bodice, I know exactly who it is and I steal myself to see her leering face. But it's unnerving, how lifelike this creation is.
Bellatrix Lestrange looks for all the world like the real thing; standing there smirking her manic grin from her position at Aberforth's side. I lift my chin a little higher and look back at him defiantly - determined not to let him rattle me. When she's fully formed he nods lightly and folds his arms.
"Well then. Let's see what we've got."
Surprisingly, I do really well against the image of Bellatrix. I don't know if it's from the practice with Voldemort earlier this day or if I'm just improving but the spells come quickly to me as I evade and counter for a good ten minutes. Harry and Aberforth both move out of the ring as the duel intensifies. She is cunning and relentless; shifting regularly to vapour form and she is especially good at capitalising on any weaknesses.
I spend a lot of time blocking her and watching for devious moves I'm not expecting. The oddest thing is that unlike the apparition of Voldemort earlier in the day, she shows emotion - grimacing in frustration when I best her, wincing in pain when I score a hit. It is definitely unnerving, but I force myself to remember that she isn't real; she's merely a mirage - an imitation of life, much like a portrait. There is nothing to be scared of.
I glance over at Harry who watches from the edge of the dome; both he and Aberforth are sectioned off into a corner like I was earlier in the day. I see his eyes widen momentarily and he gestures wildly over my shoulder.
My lapse in concentration was only a half a second but she catches it; a strong stunning spell slams into me from behind and sends me flying - turning me in mid air so I land with a breath-robbing thump on my back.
The apparition of Bella is there straight away, looking down on me with a twisted smile on her face. I'm still struggling for breath and I can hear Harry shouting at me but I can't make out the words.
She moves her wand above her head and I use all my strength to tilt my wand hand back up at her in the right pattern. The yellow shield I produce blocks her just in time; her curse rebounds off it and back into her stomach, sending her flying backwards.
She finishes lying on her back on the other side of the dome - stock still, and I fight to push myself up to sit.
"Get up and finish her."
Aberforth's voice seems as clear as if it was right by my ear. I look over and see him levelling me with a steely gaze with Harry frowning down at me from behind his shoulder. Aberforth repeats his instruction.
"Finish her. Now."
I stand up, finally able to take half a breath into my starved lungs. I watch the two of them as I walk slowly over, and then turn to look at her lying prone on the ground.
Her face is still disturbingly emotive; her chest rises and falls quickly and her large eyes are wide and fearful as she stares back up at me. I squeeze my own eyes shut momentarily, trying to force out the empathy that's creeping in - knowing that this is a test, this is THE test that I was brought here for tonight, I know it. I try and form the right incantation in my mind for the Cruciatis curse.
But behind my closed lids, all I can picture is the first time I saw the curse, in our Defence Against the Dark Arts class when Professor Moody tortured that poor spider. I remember the creature thrashing around on the desk top in unbearable pain and my feeling of horror when I saw it.
I lower my wand.
"I can't do it."
I turn and walk into the corner and sit down heavily on the floor, leaning my arms on my knees and resting my forehead against them. I don't even care what happens now; I'm exhausted and it feels like no amount of pain would break through the numbness settling over me now.
Footsteps make their way slowly over to me. I see the toes of two pairs of boots standing there but I don't look up. Again, Aberforth speaks about me as if I'm not there.
"She can fight, I'll give you that. Needs some more stamina though - send her for some runs, get a bit of weight off. And this hair..."
I look up then, I can't help it. He gestures at my hair which must look shocking and I can't help it; I smooth it self-consciously.
"Chop it off. She can't fight with that mess floating around her all the time."
I think I catch a smile from Harry but when I turn to look at him, his face is expressionless. He nods shortly.
"Thanks, Aberforth."
The older man grunts and turns from us, walking towards the steps. The dome flickers and fades as he walks away and I glance past him to see the disturbing image of Bellatrix has disappeared. Harry holds out a hand to me and I take it.
He pulls me up and when I'm standing right there in front of him, I suddenly feel bad - like I've disappointed him. I can't look at him; I level my gaze at his chest.
"I stuffed up, didn't I."
He places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it; he waits until I meet his eyes before answering.
"You did really well. Coming from Aberforth, that was singing praise."
I grimace. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. You did well." He drops his hand down my arm to take mine in his. We start walking, and just that - him holding my hand, makes me feel instantly a hundred times better. "We've just gotta get those Unforgiveables sorted."
I glance up at him as we walk back over to the stairs. He lights his wand as the light from the ceiling disappears, plunging us into near darkness.
"I don't know if I can, Harry. I really don't."
He doesn't look down at me and I can just make out the grim set of his jaw by wandlight. He squeezes my hand.
"Yeah well, I didn't think I ever would either."
We climb the stairs together in silence.
*