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Could have been by leedee
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Could have been

leedee

Chapter Three

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Harry was sitting at his desk in the back office. He had his feet on the desk and was tipping back his chair. George burst through the door for the forth time in the last couple of hours. He sighed loudly at Harry.

"What?" Harry snapped. George hauled a large box of Biting Bottoms at him.

"Look, if you are so bored just help us with these. They are selling like crazy but we still have to check each one before we sell them."

Harry looked down into the box, which was filled with average-looking underwear.

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Try some on and tell me if they work," George snickered. Harry tossed the box back at George.

"You might have fooled Ron with that once…well, twice… But I am not falling for it!" George laughed and left.

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Harry's mind was racing. He was thinking about Sirius, the danger he and the rest were in, and his mind was keeping very busy whilst trying not to think about the girl he had met just days before. He wasn't sure what was more enticing about her, her sharp tongue or her beautiful essence. Either way, she was absolutely intoxicating.

Ron burst through the door, Biting Bottoms at his heels. He kicked one pair away and Harry could have sworn it squealed.

"Don't tell me you tried one again?" Harry sighed.

"Course not!" Ron exclaimed. "But it still came after me! Anyway, ready for some after work relaxation."

"I'd rather stay here and dwell," Harry answered dramatically.

"Yeah well, we need to be out and about, Dumbledore wants all eyes and ears out there." Harry rolled his eyes and took his feet off the table.

"I was thinking we'd do Happy Hour at the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry didn't know how to feel about Ron's suggestion. He wasn't at all surprised at Ron's obvious attempts at getting closer to Hermione, he was usually like that. However, Harry was not at all used to his own butterflies. He was anxious about seeing her, mostly because their last conversation had left him under the impression that she loathed him. He wouldn't blame her at all if she did, but he hoped and prayed that she had believed him when he had told her that he did not condone Blaise's actions. But then again… why should she believe him?

Maybe that was it, yeah that was probably it, he thought. That was why he couldn't stop thinking about her. He didn't like that a Muggle-born would ever believe he was one of the people brownnosing Voldemort.

Harry found it impossible to satisfactorily reject Ron's suggestion, considering they spent most of their time there anyway. It was a usual place for most people working around the Ministry and other important offices. Over the years it had become a great place to meet in Diagon Alley.

Harry walked behind Ron as headed for the little pub. Occasionally people would nod or wave at him, which he found unusual, only because it was something to which he was not accustomed.

He was raised by Sirius, away from all the Purebloods. He had known Ron since they were children; the same went for Neville Longbottom but hardly any others. While at school Harry was just an average student, part of the crowd. He tried to blend in and not be noticed, and no one gave him any trouble, which was exactly how he wanted it. He understood the Magical world for what it was and wanted no part of it. He was well aware of what had been and what Voldemort had done to his home…to his parents. The idea of living under Voldemort's regime sickened him.

Harry could see the Leaky Cauldron sign dangling from a far. She might not even work today. Just relax.

While he had been at Hogwarts, he had been very anxious around girls. However, once he had gotten over puberty-the acne and the embarrassing, cracking voice-that changed. Hermione made him feel anxious again, the way he felt as an adolescent. He didn't like feeling so out of control again. He watched Ron stop, take a deep breath, and run a hand through his hair before he opened the door. Harry snickered a bit, but the moment Ron had stepped inside Harry found himself doing the exact same thing.

Harry looked around and noticed that the bar was almost empty. Harry looked around for Hermione, but she was nowhere to be seen. Ron had apparently noticed, also, because he seemed equally disappointed. Harry walked over to the bar to grab a drink and noticed Tom standing behind it.

"Mr. Potter, sir," Tom mumbled.

"Tom," he answered curtly. He had never been very fond of the man, but at least attempted to always be civil. Tom handed him his drink and Harry walked over to one of the many unoccupied tables and sat down, Ron joining him shortly after with his own glass in hand. Moments later, the door to the dishwashing room swung open and even before she had appeared Harry knew it was her. As she moved around the corner, he noticed the soft bounce of her curls. Soon the rest of Hermione followed. In her hurry to get to the counter, she did not notice Harry or Ron and Harry noticed that her face was flushed. He soon realized why, though, as he looked down and noticed a very large box of butterbeer in her hands.

"Where do you want these Tom?" she asked, her arms looked ready to burst. Tom barely threw her a glance.

"Not sure, not too many people drink butterbeer in this bar." He scratched his forehead. Sweat was starting to form on her forehead.

"So should I just put them behind the bar on this side then," she suggested.

"Not sure…"

Hermione looked imploring at him, her arms were now trembling. Harry had been trained too well to do what he was about to do, but he just couldn't stop himself. Without thinking, he leapt to his feet and ran behind the bar to take the box from Hermione.

"Harry?" he heard Ron's voice. Harry glanced at Hermione who was now standing just inches from him, looking surprised.

"It looked so heavy," he mumbled. His eyes met Tom's who looked equally shocked. Harry looked down at Hermione's hands, they were already torn from carrying the heavy load and he decided he had made the right decision. These boxes were heavy even for him, and she was far too small to be forced to carry them.

Hermione could not seem to get over her shock-few men had ever offered to help her before. Those who did made sure no one was around first and their intentions were perfectly clear. This was the first time anyone had helped her just to help her. She watched as Tom pointed quickly to a corner and Harry set down the boxes.

Harry turned and gave an awkward smile before sitting back down beside Ron, avoiding both his and Hermione's eyes. Hermione stood still, not knowing what to do. Such a simple act of kindness was quite unusual in her world.

After a short exchange with her boss she approached the table where Ron and Harry were stationed. Setting down two bottles, she stated, "These are on the house." Harry looked up and gave her a quizzical look.

"Tom never buys people drinks," Ron stuttered.

"They're not from Tom, they're from me," Hermione said matter-of-factly. Harry looked up again and met her eyes. He decided that she was attempting to thank him, but after the way she had treated him the last time they had spoken her pride and embarrassment were getting in the way of her actually saying the words. She broke the gaze, as she always seemed to do, and quickly spun around and walked away.

"I could have helped her, too, if you had told me she was having trouble," Ron whispered to Harry. "Could have scored some points there."


"Sorry, just couldn't help-."

"No worries," Ron said as he gulped down his drink.

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"Hermione!" Ron called out. A few hours had passed and the bar had become pretty busy by now. Hermione had kept a comfortable distance away from their table. She hadn't missed the obvious winks from Ron, and she hadn't missed the awkward glances Harry had thrown her. She guessed he had been feeling bad about what he had seen the previous evening, but she had no real way of knowing without asking, which she had decided would be a horrible idea. All she knew was that each time he looked at her, she could feel it even though she had her back to him. It was as if his eyes were shooting fire through her soul.

"What can I do for you, handsome?" she said and reached for her tiny notepad.

"Four butterbeers, minus the butter. Four firewhiskeys with extra troll and one piece of company," Ron said.

Hermione was concentrating so hard on getting orders out quickly that she didn't stop writing until she registered the end of Ron's sentence.

"So how many extra points did you get in school for being a smart mouth?" she said and put her hand on her hip. Harry found it endearing.

"Not many," Ron mumbled under his breath and Harry laughed out loud. Hermione's attention immediately turned to Harry, he had such a charming laugh.

"And what about you, how many butterbeers without butter do you want?" she asked. Harry looked up and for the first time that evening they really looked at each other. Harry leaned back and watched her for a moment, which made Hermione even more uncomfortable.

"What do you recommend?" Harry asked her, he had seen her hesitance at staying near them. Hermione looked around, hoping someone else would call her over, before looking back at Harry to answer.

"Well, as I've told you, I'm not allowed to taste anything."

"We'll buy you something," Ron exclaimed in his most gentlemanly manner.

"I'm still not allowed to have any," Hermione muttered under her breath. Harry noticed that she was now fidgeting with her pen; her thumb had blue ink stains all over it. He quickly understood why she wasn't allowed to drink and was just about to change the subject when Ron asked,

"We'll ask Tom. We'll buy it after hours," he suggested kindly. Hermione looked down at her feet, not wanting to say what obviously needed to be said. Harry nudged Ron. "What?" he said innocently. He obviously didn't get it.

"I'm not allowed to drink from any of the bottles served to customers because I-." Harry quickly interrupted her, he didn't want to hear the rest of her sentence.


"Joke shop!" he exclaimed. Hermione's eyes shot back up to Harry, looking perplexed.

"Where you work?" she asked looking at Ron, whose expression mirrored hers.

"Sure, you should stop by," Harry said. Hermione smiled thankfully, understanding why he had interrupted her.

"Yeah! We make some pretty cool stuff," Ron said proudly. Hermione looked from Ron to Harry who was now sipping his ale.

"You make?" she asked. Ron nodded, grinning from ear to ear.


"Sure, we make it in the `Genius Department' as we call it. Harry and I just sit there, making up all kinds of things," Ron lied. Hermione looked at Harry who was now swallowing his laugher; Ron tended to oversell himself when he had been drinking. "Yeah! So I had this idea of a jinx that would record a person's dream and then allow them to relive it. Wouldn't that be wicked?"

"That would be great, but I do believe that the Law of-." But Ron interrupted her.

"Yeah, yeah, laws of Magic, laws of the Ministry. But if we could imagine, you know what I mean… When you wake in the morning, Hermione…" he tilted his head and smiled cockily at her.

"Yes?" she said slowly, smiling crookedly at him. She turned to Harry, expecting him to be laughing just as she was but she was a bit startled at the look he was giving her. He was looking intently at her. She felt as if he was looking into her soul.

"I thought you worked in the back," she said barely audible, and that question seemed to snap Harry out if his trance.

"We do a bit of everything," he answered while looking into his ale. Hermione smiled and couldn't help but laugh at their embarrassment at being caught trying to impress her.

"But do you know what I mean, Hermione?" Ron said, trying to turn all the attention back to him.

"No, Ron, what do you mean?" Hermione asked, her eyes still on Harry.

"When you wake up, don't you ever just want to point your wand at yourself? I mean, we do what we want to, everything but ourselves, sometimes I feel like we are slaves to our wands, do you know," he slurred slightly.

Harry found Ron just as confusing as Hermione seemed to, it was obvious that Ron had had a few too many ale's already.

"I feel like we don't own our wands, they own us, you know what I mean?" he looked up at her and Hermione knew when she looked into his blue eyes that he truly didn't mean any harm by what he was saying to her. Harry noticed Ron's error quickly and was just about to speak when Hermione spoke.

"No, Ron, I have no idea what it feels like to wake up with a wand…" She wasn't allowed to finish because Tom walked up behind her.

"Hermione, dishes are piling up," he barked and Hermione quickly turned and stalked back into the kitchen. Tom turned to Harry and Ron and pointed a finger in their face.

"Look, you know the drill!" he barked.

"What did we do?" Ron asked honestly. Tom grunted and collected their empty glasses.

"If you want the pretty girl to talk and flirt with you, you have to buy a new drink. Otherwise she ain't coming here anymore. Do you understand me?" Harry turned to Ron, his face was turning red with embarrassment and Harry could feel the color rising into his own cheeks as well. Tom turned to face the room. "The same goes for all of you. If you want the pretty girl to be nice to you, you need to buy something." He turned to Harry and Ron and continued, "Her company has a price."

Harry felt very ashamed of himself and his stupidity. Of course the only reason she was being nice to him was because it was her job-she was acting.

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"Wake up, wake up, Harry!" Harry sat bolt upright-Ron never woke him up. He threw the blanket off of himself, preparing for the worst.

"What, what is it? Who's dead?" The question sounded harsh and cold, but it was a question they were both used to asking.

"I don't know, but Lupin sent us the sign," Ron breathed hurriedly.

"What sign?" Harry asked while jumping out his bed and pulling on his pants. He needed to know his exit route. He couldn't exactly jump out the front door.

"The sign!" Ron answered, his voice shaking.

"What sign?" Harry asked, buttoning his pants.

"The sign!" Ron answered again standing still. Harry stopped buttoning his pants.

"Let's go!" he yelled.

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He was running, running so fast that he might even get lost. More than once, Ron grabbed his arm and whispered, "This way." They finally arrived at the designated meeting place and Harry realized it was the first time they had ever used it. He looked around, realizing that he and Ron were the only ones there.

"Someone will come," Ron announced immediately. They waited for nearly an hour and Harry was about to suggest that they go home before they heard a sound.

"Padfoot?" Harry called out into the cold night. He raised his wand, preparing for an attack. Harry jumped when Ron grabbed his elbow.

"Look", he whispered and they saw a creature slowly crawling towards them. Harry was unable to make out the creature, but he knew it could not be Sirius-he knew him well both in human and canine form. Finally the bushes opened and someone or something dropped before them.

"It's Lupin!" Ron yelled and Harry ran to grab him. Harry threw himself on his knees cradling Lupin. He was bleeding profusely and Harry feared the worst. Ron shook Lupin to life.

"Remus," he shouted. "Remus, please, can you hear me?" Lupin slowly opened his eyes.

"It's us. It's Ron and Harry. Remus…what happened?" Lupin spat out a bit of blood.

"Harry…" he moaned.

"Yes, I'm here," Harry answered holding Lupin's head. He reached up and gently touched Harry's cheek.

"What is it, Remus?" Harry whispered.

"It's Sirius…"

Harry stopped breathing. He didn't mean to do it, it just happened. His world seemed to come to a halt. He looked down at Lupin and urged him with his to continue.

"We've been attacked," Remus murmured.

"How, when?" Harry stammered. "How did they find you?"

Tears welled over the sides of Lupin eyes and his whole face filled with sorrow.

"No, Harry, they didn't just find us. They found everyone…the whole camp." Ron inhaled so sharply that he fell backwards. Harry shut his eyes tightly. The faces of those who had been under protection flashed before his eyes. He couldn't find the words to ask Lupin for the details. "We were there, but they came…" Lupin was crying loudly now and Harry knew this meant only pain. "They came in the night. They came with fire. They attacked…all…" Harry stopped breathing and heard Ron groan beside him. He knew what it meant, it meant women and children. Neither Voldemort nor his followers had ever shown mercy. "They came, I don't know how they found us," Lupin continued. "Many got away, I believe."

Harry was still holding his breath, wondering about Sirius. He didn't need to speak, Lupin looked up and their eyes met. Harry felt as if Lupin was reading his mind. "They didn't get him," Lupin sighed. "I saw him flee into the woods with the children."

"Children?" Ron gasped.


"Yes," Lupin continued. "He took the orphans and ran. He will find Dumbledore and he will turn up."

Harry felt relief flood his system before he returned to reality. Voldemort's people were closing in and if they couldn't turn this around it would all be over. Harry needed to think. Sirius was alive. The camp was destroyed. Dumbledore was…well, wherever Dumbledore was, Harry needed to reach him.

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Harry sat waiting for Dumbledore, as he seemed to do quite frequently. There was nothing Harry hated as much as waiting, for anyone. But worst was waiting for Dumbledore because he always carried such important news. This time they were meeting at the back office of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Harry's mind was racing with thoughts about who had attacked the camp and, most importantly, how they had managed to find it.

Harry heard a small creak and spun around, his wand raised. When he saw no one, he looked down and met eyes with a tabby cat with markings around her eyes.

"Professor McGonagall?" Harry whispered and lowered his wand. The cat quickly transformed to its human form.

"Harry," she answered and proceeded in brushing dust off of herself.

"Where is Dumbledore?" Harry demanded while handing her a glass of water.

"He could not come. He is far too busy after the attack last night. He has sent me to deliver news to you."

"And?" Harry demanded.

"The camps are to join;" she whispered so silently that he could barely hear her.

"Join?" He couldn't believe his ears. "But he has worked so hard all this time to keep them apart, making sure neither knew where the other was!"

"Yes, Potter, I realize that. But after last night…well, the plan has changed." Her face was very stiff, more than usual, and he knew she was trying not to cry.

"But what does he want me to do? Does he have orders for me?"

"You are to meet him at the camp," she whispered.

"What? But…" He had never been allowed to see any of the camps before and he wasn't sure he would be able to find it. McGonagall gave him a stern look.


"The whole Order will be there. What's left of it, anyway. We need to figure out where to go from here." Harry paused a moment before nodding.

"How do I get there?"

"You will receive word about that. Within a week."

"What about Sirius?"

"I have nothing more to tell you, Potter. I'm sorry." Harry could tell by the look on her face that she really was sorry. She straightened up and her tone became firm again. "I have many more to see tonight and very little time, so if you will excuse me…"

She transformed back into a cat and, within moments, she was gone. Harry collapsed into one of the chairs. What could all this mean? Were they losing the war? Had Voldemort finally delivered the final blow? Was it all too late?

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"And where now?" Ron asked as he furiously beat a small branch from his line of sight. Harry looked down at the small map he was carrying.

"Straight, I think…" he mumbled and looked at the map again. It kept changing and would only allow him to see a few feet ahead. They had traveled by secret passageways, broom, and had even taken a Muggle bus. Now they were on foot.

They had been traveling for hours and both he and Ron were exhausted. It was late June and the sun was at its highest in the sky. The trees kept the worst of the rays at bay, but they could not account of the humidity.

"So what do you think it'll be like?" Ron asked and turned back and looked at Harry.

"I don't know," he answered still looking down at the map. "Turn left here."

"I wonder if we'll even be able to see it," Ron mumbled. "It might have an invisibility charm on it to help keep intruders out."

"I doubt it. They're not supposed to be using magic. Dumbledore has told us that the Death Eaters are using magic detectors all over Britain."

"That would be miserable…" Ron thought out loud. "I think I'd rather get caught by the Death Eaters. At least I could fight."

"Not being able to use magic is probably the least of their worries, Ron," Harry snapped. "Besides, it's not that bad." Harry knew this from personal experience. Since he could not know his mother, he and Sirius would spend Harry's summer holidays traveling and living amongst Muggles. Sirius also believed the experience would come in handy, if ever Harry found himself in a situation where he would be unable to use magic-much like the one Sirius was in now.

Harry tripped over a root as he concentrated on the map. "Bloody hell," he muttered and then sat down.

"Good idea. We should rest." Ron sat down next to him, taking a swig from his water pouch and then offering it to Harry. Harry gladly took it and, after drinking heartily from it, handed it back to Ron. Ron looked over at Harry and saw him staring fixedly into nothing. He slapped his hand against Harry's back.

"Don't worry, Sirius is fine. You'll see," he said silently and Harry turned to him.

"I know."

"You're still worried, though," Ron stated and Harry nodded.

Harry drank some more water; taking the rest had made him realize how suddenly tired he had become. It didn't last very long, though. After hearing the snap of a twig from behind them, Harry and Ron jumped to their feet and spun around, wands at the ready. No one was behind them, but they remained alert, looking for any possible source for the sound.

"Just remember," Harry whispered. "We can't use magic unless we absolutely have to." They heard a breaking twig again.

"It's coming closer," Ron stated and Harry nodded. Someone was walking towards them. As they stared fixedly at the spot from where the noise was coming, a figure revealed itself. Harry took a step backwards, sure that his mind was playing tricks on him.


"Hermione!" Ron yelled out and Harry had to shake his head to see if the vision would disappear.

But indeed, there was the woman from the bar, wearing a pair of Muggle jeans and an old t-shirt which read "The Ramones." She was walking towards them, but when she heard her name called out, she froze.

"I can't believe it, what are you doing here?" Ron asked running to her side. Hermione started backing away, looking at them suspiciously, but Ron was too quick for her. He reached out and grabbed her elbow, half-dragging her towards Harry. She tried to fight back but he was far too strong in his excitement. She looked from Harry to Ron again, trying to figure out exactly what they were doing out here.

"I am here to visit an uncle," she stammered and Ron let her go, eyeing at her suspiciously.

"Sure you are," Harry said.

"What do you mean?" she asked accusingly.

Harry was slightly surprised by the resentment and bitterness he felt towards her at this moment. His pride had truly been injured when he realized she was just flirting with him as a part of her job. Hermione frowned at the angry look he was giving her.

"Did you follow us here?" Harry demanded.

"What?" she said in a voice so high that he was surprised anyone but a dog could have heard her.

"She couldn't have," Ron added, and indeed Harry knew it would be very unlikely that she had.

"Did you follow me here?" she asked in return and put her hands on her hips.

"Oh, please!" Harry mocked.

Hermione looked silently from Ron and Harry, chewing on her bottom lip as she tried to figure out what to do or say next.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione!" a voice boomed a few feet away from them and they all turned to look at the owner. They saw a man hobbling toward them, his blue eye spinning around in his head.

"Moody?" Ron called back and Hermione considerably more taken aback, trying to figure out how Ron and Harry knew Mad-Eye Moody.

"Heard the alarm go off, thought I'd see who was coming. So you came together, then?" he asked, not at all surprised to see the three of them together. Hermione's eyes opened so wide she felt like she would break them.

"You?" Ron, Harry and Hermione asked at once.

Mad-Eye looked between them and shook his head uninterestedly.

"Found each other by accident then? Funny how that can happen," he mumbled and started walking back the way he had come.

Harry ran after him while Ron waited for Hermione. She walked quietly beside him, watching Harry's retreating figure. So Harry was in the Order… She thought back to the night with Blaise and Harry at the pub, suddenly realizing that it had all been part of an act to keep his identity safe. The relief she felt confused her. She had hated having to hate him, but didn't quite understand why.

Harry turned to look at her and she gave him a small smile. She snapped back into reality when she noticed a familiar scene unfolding itself before them-they had reached her home.

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