Well, for the few people that know me out there on
the net, you have no idea how much I've worked on this story, which is about
version ten.
Spoilers: Everything up to GoF.
Disclaimers: Not mine, though the plot and Raven are mine, not to mention any of
the characters who will come after.
Harry glanced over at Hermione, who was nervously biting her lip, staring at the
tiled floor in front of them. She suddenly looked older than she had ever
before.
"Hermione," he said quietly, "your lip's bleeding."
Her eyes focused and her finger traced her lip. She looked at the blood on her
finger and smiled at him, rubbing it away.
"Thanks. I guess I'm just nervous, I guess."
"You're repeating yourself, Hermione."
She blushed, looking at some books in the waiting room. God, how much life
could change so quickly. It was twenty minutes ago that she was picked up from
her friends with Harry in the car, told that her house had been blown up by
Voldermort and she was taken to the Ministry. Harry had had to grab her when
they decided to, after all said and done, tell her that they weren't her real
parents either. Now, she was about to meet her real father.
It was a slap in the face, really. Cold hard truth finally rearing its ugly
head at her. Subconsciously, she probably knew about it. Hermione had always
noticed how she didn't look like anyone in her family at all. The lack of
photographs from her birth had always made her curious.
It wasn't that she wasn't upset that her parents were dead, but it seemed that
she hadn't even started to process it all yet. She was in shock.
She turned to Harry, who was looking at some of the books on the mahogany shelf
behind them. She wasn't quite sure why he was there, but the presence of her
friend being with her made it much better.
Something was nagging her at the back of her mind. Something saying that
whatever was going to happen next, was going to change her life. And Harry's.
She sighed again, letting out a long, choked one.
Harry handed her a tissue,trying to smile at her a little. She accepted without
really looking. He didn't need a thank you, he had a slight impression of what
she felt like and knew that it was sort of blurry.
Speaking of blurry, he really was feeling that way himself. He was getting
the mail when he was grabbed from behind and put in the back of a white truck.
Like an idiot, he realized, he had left his wand in his drawer, and things
weren't coherent. Somehow, Hedwig and the rest of his things found there way
into the truck. They rode along. He was not quite aware of a distance being
traveled while in the back of the truck. Someone must have said something about
being with the ministry.
"H-Harry?" Hermione had said as she was assisted into the truck. "What's going
on?"
"Hermione?" She clambered in next to him, her eyes wide with fear.
"They said my parents are dead."
"Oh my God. Hermione."
She started to sob and Harry had moved closer, putting an arm around her. They
had ridden the rest of the ride to the Ministry of Magic's Headquarters like
that.
So here he was. And so was Hermione. A very rude part of him also added and
Krum isn't, although he hadn't want to pursue that one while they waited for
Cornelius Fudge to come out and tell them what they're going to do next.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger." They looked up to see a familiar
pin-stripe-panted person known as Cornelius Fudge. "Come in."
They entered the small office and sat in high backed chairs, tapping fingers,
biting lips, twiddling thumbs.
"Ms. Granger, it's very nice meeting you, even if the situation in which I must
is not. Harry, always good to see you, my boy."
Harry didn't say anything, but continued listening.
"Mr. Fudge, I'm not quite sure I understand what's happened. I mean, I went
over to my friends for a few minutes and . . and the next I'm thrown in the
back of a white van and taken here and told my house was blown up and my parents
are dead and then a few minutes ago that they weren't even my parents! It's a
little too much, don't you think?" Hermione's upturned hand was hitting the air
to emphasize what she was saying.
"Yes . . . and I'm very sorry, but-"
"Oh, God, what else?" she moaned.
"Well, when your parents gave you to us-"
"So, I'm adopted?" she said, startled.
"No, they realized it wasn't safe for you to stay with them, so when they gave
you to us, we put a charm on you so that they'd never be able to identify you."
"So . . ."
"So you really don't look like you do now." She didn't answer for a while,
except for a long exhale as she leaned forward in her chair, hands clasped
together in front of her mouth.
"And how do you reverse the charm?"
"Well, it's a simple little potion, we even have it with us now, that is, if you
want to."
Hermione bit her lip, then looked over at Harry. "What do you think I should
do, Harry, you're the most instantaneous person I know."
"You want my advice?" Harry said incredulously; she nodded. "I think, that you should get it over with."
"Then that's what I'm going to do." His eyes held hers for a moment, then she
turned to Cornelius Fudge. "I'll take it now, please."
Harry sat drumming his fingers on his knees. Hermione had been ushered into a
room leading of from Fudge's office a few minutes ago and now he sat facing a
smiling Head Minister.
"So, Harry, how long have you known Miss Granger?"
Harry looked up, then processed what had been said to him. "Oh, uh, I met her
on the train ride in first year."
"So you know her very well."
"Yeah, well, I guess. Why?" he looked at him with a worried face.
"Well, Miss Granger is going to be going through mood swings quite a bit these
next two days. When we placed the charm on her, we also used one to change her
personality slightly and-"
A scream of pain came from the other room.
"Hermione!" Harry yelled, jumping out of his chair and trying to bolt through
the door. He was about to turn the door knob when Cornelius Fudge grabbed his
arm.
"I urge you not to go in there right now, Harry. The pain is over in a matter
of seconds."
"But-" he licked his lips that were suddenly very dry, and felt his heartbeat
race.
"I know, Harry, I know. But I promise, it's only for a second."
He steered Harry back into the chair, then sat down himself.
The door opened and the two men stood up. What came out of the room made
Harry's jaw drop.
Slightly taller than she was before, her build was lighter. Brown, frizzy hair
was replaced by sleek, black slightly greasy hair. Dark brown eyes replaced
those of a lighter color from before, but now they were wet with tears and
slightly red. Her soft freckled face was now lean and mature. If it wasn't for
the fact that she was still wearing her clothing, he doubted he'd recognize her.
She sniffed, a tissue in hand. Looking up, she tried to smile at Harry, but it
didn't come off well, because she tripped over her feet - and landed straight on
her face.
"Are you okay, Hermione?"
She got up slowly. "Just trying to get used to the altitude change."
He gave her a hand up and stared at her for a moment.
"Something wrong?" she said nervously.
"No, nothing's wrong . . it's just sort of, well spooky."
"What is?" she scrunched her forehead.
"How much you look like Sirius."
Fudge cleared his throat and Hermione stared at him. "No."
"No what?" asked Harry.
"Yes," Fudge said quickly.
"No!" Hermione screeched.
"Yes."
"Wait. Can you two explain what's going on, because I'm seriously confused."
"Sirius Black is your father," Fudge said slowly, "after Harry's parents
died, your father was arrested, and your mother realized she'd be next,
regardless of what House she was from, so, she gave you to us. We contacted the
Grangers, who were muggles but had a wizard in the family who told us about
them, we placed the charm on you, and sent you on your way."
"But isn't Sirius wanted because he escaped from Azkaban? You said he was
here." Harry raised an eyebrow. If his godfather was caught- he didn't want to
think of it.
"You didn't hear, Harry? They got Peter. He's free."
"Oh my God," he breathed, a hand running through his hair.
"So why did my mother give me up? Is she here?"
Fudge started to twist the quill pen in his hand, not wanting to look up.
Hermione clasped her hands together and looked down. "Oh. I see."
He patted her hand. "I know this is quite a lot all at once, but we thought
that this was the best time tell you."
"Whatever," she muttered as she crossed her arms. A moment passed before she
realized what she said. "Oh my God. I-I didn't mean that. I don't know where
that came from."
"It's a side effect of the reversing charm. It'll be over in a couple of days."
"Well, thanks. Can I see him now?" said Hermione as she stood up and started to
walk towards the door.
"Let me see," Fudge looked at a paper that said 'Things to Tell Ms. Black'.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. "Nope, nothing else. I'll show you the
room."
Harry and Hermione followed Fudge out to the marble-floored hallways. The tall
brick ceilings reminded them of the Kings Cross Station, just on the other side
of the wall.
"It reminds me of a church," Harry said quietly.
"Yeah," Hermione said quietly, arms crossed as they walked down the hallway.
"Used to want to work here when I was older, now, I don't know."
Harry smirked. "How long ago did you change your mind?"
"Five minutes ago."
"Same time as the potion, Herm."
The doors opened and they were ushered into a bare room, save for a few chairs
and a table. Sirius stood up as they entered, running a hand through his hair,
and straightened out his robes.
"Mr. Black, your daughter."
Harry walked in while Hermione followed slowly, leaning against the doorway.
"Harry? What are you doing here?"
"Came with your daughter I guess." Sirius clapped him on the back and stopped.
"She's here?"
Harry pointed at Hermione, who started to walk towards Sirius. "That was
Hermione."
Sirius stared at her, a mixture of pride and shock on his face. "You don't look
like you used to," he said quietly.
She shrugged. "Thank the Ministry."
"Come here."
She stepped forward and took his outstretched hand.
"God," he breathed. "You look like your mother . . . I," he choked out the
words as the two watched his eyes start to become wet,"I just wish that she
could see you."
He swept her into a large hug as he started to cry. "You're so beautiful,
Raven. You're so beautiful." She threw Harry a helpless look over her father's
shoulder.
Harry looked down. His godfather, a man who had been hardened from years in
Azkaban, was crying like a baby. With his grip around Hermione's shoulders, it
seemed they'd be there for a while.
Sirius sniffled hard and held her back at arm's length. "Last time I saw you,
you weren't really even a month old. It's been a long time, love."
He sat down in a chair, still watching her as Harry and she sat on chairs.
Hermione bit her lip, then spoke. "So, did I have a name?"
He smiled. "Yes. Raven Black. Your mum, she loved her Edgar Allen Poe and
all. She was always very literate."
"Well, that explains a lot," Harry said chuckling. She hit him.
"Yeah, that's what got me the first time I met you, too. How you kinda were
like her in that way."
She made a non-committal noise, then looked up from the floor. "So, what do we
do now?"
"Well," he said slowly. "We can discuss that tomorrow. Now, I think, we all
just need some sleep. How about it?"
"Sounds good," said Harry and Raven in unison.
Sirius got up and started to eave the room, but paused and turned, eyebrows
knitted. "Where's Ron? Didn't they extract him?"
Raven looked down. Harry cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his
pockets. "Ron, Sirius, was spotted at Hermione's house during the explosion.
Ron also did something with his sister and killed the rest of his family.
They've got aurors looking for him as we speak."
Raven sighed as she flipped onto the bed, grabbing a fringed pillow and starting
to play with it. "So," she said slowly, watching Harry out of the corner of her
eye. He continued to look out the window towards a plaza visible from the room
they were sharing for the night. "What do you think's going to happen to Ron if
they find him?"
"I don't know, Her-Raven," he corrected himself.
She sat up, and slipped off the bed, walking over to Harry. She leaned against
the other side of the window. Carefully making sure she didn't make eye contact
with Harry, she spoke slowly. "There's a part of me that doesn't want them to
give him the Deatheater's Kiss. The other part of me, however, wants to kill
him myself." She gave him a helpless look. "I hate this, Harry. I feel like I
have two friggin people in my head!" She started to cry.
Harry sat down in the window seat, patting it to signal her to sit down. With a
sniffle, she leaned her head on his shoulder.
"Shh," he crossed his arms across her shoulders so she was laying against him.
"It's going to be alright."
Another sniffle. "How?"
"Because we have each other, and that's all we need."
Looking out the window, Harry closed his eyes. "You'll always have me," he
whispered.
Getting out the large bed, Raven stretched and looked around to find Harry
heartily eating some food.
"Finally," he said with a mouthful, "I don't think I ever seen anyone sleep that
long. I nearly ate all the pancakes and bacon and the rest of this myself."
"Call it a gift," she snapped, padding over to a small table she hadn't noticed
the night before. Come to think of it, she hadn't really noticed much at all.
Looking around, she realized that she'd never want to live in a room such as
this one. It was too much white and not enough clutter. After thinking of the
latter, she paused before taking a bite of a sausage and turned to Harry. "What
do you think we're going to do now?"
"Now that what?"
"Well," she looked at the ceiling at scrunched her nose in disgust. Popcorn
ceiling, yuck. "Now that I've found out my entire life was a lie, and that your
aunt and uncle are probably going to be fried to a crisp." Raven looked a grape
thoughtfully for a moment. "Do you think they'll allow them to be blown up like
that?"
"Probably not. They'll probably put them in some sort of Muggle Witness
Protection Program or something. And I'll be there with them." Harry leaned back in his chair and crossed his
arms.
"Nope, they can't now that Sirius is free. . . should I be calling him Dad or
something?" she looked at him curiously while she continued to chew.
"Don't ask me, Raven."
She got up out of her chair and sat on the arm of his. "You know, I love the
name and all, but, I mean, I need a nickname or something. I was Herm
beforehand. Or-"
"Herminny, as I remember Krum saying once."
She shuddered. "Please don't even mention his name."
He leaned forward in his seat, raising an eyebrow. "You don't like him then?"
She shook her head. "At first it was a little thrilling, I mean, all the girls
in school looking at me with envy. . . but, you know, after a while-"
"The spotlight starts to get a little warm," he finished for her. She nodded,
then looked down with a slight laugh, looking at the tapestry work on the armrest.
"But who am I to talk. You've been in it since the first year at Hogwarts."
"After a while you get used to it."
Raven nodded, excused herself, slipped of the chair and started toward the bathroom. She came back out
wearing something a little more suitable than pajamas and started to slip a pair
of boots on.
"No, I've watched you, Harry. Every time someone says something genuinely nice
to you, you panic and don't know what to do."
Harry didn't answer, but started towards the pile of their belongings in the
corner. "Fuck."
"Well that's a new one. What's the matter?"
He tore frantically through some clothing, cursing quietly as he did. "The
photograph album. The one with my parent's wedding pictures in it."
Raven paled. "No." She kneeled down next to him, the slight whish sound of her
leather pants was the only sound.
He sat back on his heels, rubbing his face. Raven looked through the clothing.
"Just stop, it's not in there," he said muffled by his hands.
Raven glared at him. "Hey, men focus on one spot while women use their
peripheral vision, so shut up. And why are you beet red?"
Harry cleared his throat and looked at the article of clothing she had in her
hand. Looking down, she saw that she was holding a pair of boxers with little
snitches on it. It was her turn to blush. "Oh."
Harry stood up and helped Raven to do the same. She patted his shoulder. "We'll
get it back, don't worry," she told him as they started toward the door. "We'll ask if we can go back to the
house or something, don't worry. We can't do anything until we actually leave the room."
He opened the door for her. "Ready?"
She let out a small laugh as she crossed her arms and walked out. "No, but I
guess someday I might be."
the net, you have no idea how much I've worked on this story, which is about
version ten.
Spoilers: Everything up to GoF.
Disclaimers: Not mine, though the plot and Raven are mine, not to mention any of
the characters who will come after.
Harry glanced over at Hermione, who was nervously biting her lip, staring at the
tiled floor in front of them. She suddenly looked older than she had ever
before.
"Hermione," he said quietly, "your lip's bleeding."
Her eyes focused and her finger traced her lip. She looked at the blood on her
finger and smiled at him, rubbing it away.
"Thanks. I guess I'm just nervous, I guess."
"You're repeating yourself, Hermione."
She blushed, looking at some books in the waiting room. God, how much life
could change so quickly. It was twenty minutes ago that she was picked up from
her friends with Harry in the car, told that her house had been blown up by
Voldermort and she was taken to the Ministry. Harry had had to grab her when
they decided to, after all said and done, tell her that they weren't her real
parents either. Now, she was about to meet her real father.
It was a slap in the face, really. Cold hard truth finally rearing its ugly
head at her. Subconsciously, she probably knew about it. Hermione had always
noticed how she didn't look like anyone in her family at all. The lack of
photographs from her birth had always made her curious.
It wasn't that she wasn't upset that her parents were dead, but it seemed that
she hadn't even started to process it all yet. She was in shock.
She turned to Harry, who was looking at some of the books on the mahogany shelf
behind them. She wasn't quite sure why he was there, but the presence of her
friend being with her made it much better.
Something was nagging her at the back of her mind. Something saying that
whatever was going to happen next, was going to change her life. And Harry's.
She sighed again, letting out a long, choked one.
Harry handed her a tissue,trying to smile at her a little. She accepted without
really looking. He didn't need a thank you, he had a slight impression of what
she felt like and knew that it was sort of blurry.
Speaking of blurry, he really was feeling that way himself. He was getting
the mail when he was grabbed from behind and put in the back of a white truck.
Like an idiot, he realized, he had left his wand in his drawer, and things
weren't coherent. Somehow, Hedwig and the rest of his things found there way
into the truck. They rode along. He was not quite aware of a distance being
traveled while in the back of the truck. Someone must have said something about
being with the ministry.
"H-Harry?" Hermione had said as she was assisted into the truck. "What's going
on?"
"Hermione?" She clambered in next to him, her eyes wide with fear.
"They said my parents are dead."
"Oh my God. Hermione."
She started to sob and Harry had moved closer, putting an arm around her. They
had ridden the rest of the ride to the Ministry of Magic's Headquarters like
that.
So here he was. And so was Hermione. A very rude part of him also added and
Krum isn't, although he hadn't want to pursue that one while they waited for
Cornelius Fudge to come out and tell them what they're going to do next.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger." They looked up to see a familiar
pin-stripe-panted person known as Cornelius Fudge. "Come in."
They entered the small office and sat in high backed chairs, tapping fingers,
biting lips, twiddling thumbs.
"Ms. Granger, it's very nice meeting you, even if the situation in which I must
is not. Harry, always good to see you, my boy."
Harry didn't say anything, but continued listening.
"Mr. Fudge, I'm not quite sure I understand what's happened. I mean, I went
over to my friends for a few minutes and . . and the next I'm thrown in the
back of a white van and taken here and told my house was blown up and my parents
are dead and then a few minutes ago that they weren't even my parents! It's a
little too much, don't you think?" Hermione's upturned hand was hitting the air
to emphasize what she was saying.
"Yes . . . and I'm very sorry, but-"
"Oh, God, what else?" she moaned.
"Well, when your parents gave you to us-"
"So, I'm adopted?" she said, startled.
"No, they realized it wasn't safe for you to stay with them, so when they gave
you to us, we put a charm on you so that they'd never be able to identify you."
"So . . ."
"So you really don't look like you do now." She didn't answer for a while,
except for a long exhale as she leaned forward in her chair, hands clasped
together in front of her mouth.
"And how do you reverse the charm?"
"Well, it's a simple little potion, we even have it with us now, that is, if you
want to."
Hermione bit her lip, then looked over at Harry. "What do you think I should
do, Harry, you're the most instantaneous person I know."
"You want my advice?" Harry said incredulously; she nodded. "I think, that you should get it over with."
"Then that's what I'm going to do." His eyes held hers for a moment, then she
turned to Cornelius Fudge. "I'll take it now, please."
Harry sat drumming his fingers on his knees. Hermione had been ushered into a
room leading of from Fudge's office a few minutes ago and now he sat facing a
smiling Head Minister.
"So, Harry, how long have you known Miss Granger?"
Harry looked up, then processed what had been said to him. "Oh, uh, I met her
on the train ride in first year."
"So you know her very well."
"Yeah, well, I guess. Why?" he looked at him with a worried face.
"Well, Miss Granger is going to be going through mood swings quite a bit these
next two days. When we placed the charm on her, we also used one to change her
personality slightly and-"
A scream of pain came from the other room.
"Hermione!" Harry yelled, jumping out of his chair and trying to bolt through
the door. He was about to turn the door knob when Cornelius Fudge grabbed his
arm.
"I urge you not to go in there right now, Harry. The pain is over in a matter
of seconds."
"But-" he licked his lips that were suddenly very dry, and felt his heartbeat
race.
"I know, Harry, I know. But I promise, it's only for a second."
He steered Harry back into the chair, then sat down himself.
The door opened and the two men stood up. What came out of the room made
Harry's jaw drop.
Slightly taller than she was before, her build was lighter. Brown, frizzy hair
was replaced by sleek, black slightly greasy hair. Dark brown eyes replaced
those of a lighter color from before, but now they were wet with tears and
slightly red. Her soft freckled face was now lean and mature. If it wasn't for
the fact that she was still wearing her clothing, he doubted he'd recognize her.
She sniffed, a tissue in hand. Looking up, she tried to smile at Harry, but it
didn't come off well, because she tripped over her feet - and landed straight on
her face.
"Are you okay, Hermione?"
She got up slowly. "Just trying to get used to the altitude change."
He gave her a hand up and stared at her for a moment.
"Something wrong?" she said nervously.
"No, nothing's wrong . . it's just sort of, well spooky."
"What is?" she scrunched her forehead.
"How much you look like Sirius."
Fudge cleared his throat and Hermione stared at him. "No."
"No what?" asked Harry.
"Yes," Fudge said quickly.
"No!" Hermione screeched.
"Yes."
"Wait. Can you two explain what's going on, because I'm seriously confused."
"Sirius Black is your father," Fudge said slowly, "after Harry's parents
died, your father was arrested, and your mother realized she'd be next,
regardless of what House she was from, so, she gave you to us. We contacted the
Grangers, who were muggles but had a wizard in the family who told us about
them, we placed the charm on you, and sent you on your way."
"But isn't Sirius wanted because he escaped from Azkaban? You said he was
here." Harry raised an eyebrow. If his godfather was caught- he didn't want to
think of it.
"You didn't hear, Harry? They got Peter. He's free."
"Oh my God," he breathed, a hand running through his hair.
"So why did my mother give me up? Is she here?"
Fudge started to twist the quill pen in his hand, not wanting to look up.
Hermione clasped her hands together and looked down. "Oh. I see."
He patted her hand. "I know this is quite a lot all at once, but we thought
that this was the best time tell you."
"Whatever," she muttered as she crossed her arms. A moment passed before she
realized what she said. "Oh my God. I-I didn't mean that. I don't know where
that came from."
"It's a side effect of the reversing charm. It'll be over in a couple of days."
"Well, thanks. Can I see him now?" said Hermione as she stood up and started to
walk towards the door.
"Let me see," Fudge looked at a paper that said 'Things to Tell Ms. Black'.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. "Nope, nothing else. I'll show you the
room."
Harry and Hermione followed Fudge out to the marble-floored hallways. The tall
brick ceilings reminded them of the Kings Cross Station, just on the other side
of the wall.
"It reminds me of a church," Harry said quietly.
"Yeah," Hermione said quietly, arms crossed as they walked down the hallway.
"Used to want to work here when I was older, now, I don't know."
Harry smirked. "How long ago did you change your mind?"
"Five minutes ago."
"Same time as the potion, Herm."
The doors opened and they were ushered into a bare room, save for a few chairs
and a table. Sirius stood up as they entered, running a hand through his hair,
and straightened out his robes.
"Mr. Black, your daughter."
Harry walked in while Hermione followed slowly, leaning against the doorway.
"Harry? What are you doing here?"
"Came with your daughter I guess." Sirius clapped him on the back and stopped.
"She's here?"
Harry pointed at Hermione, who started to walk towards Sirius. "That was
Hermione."
Sirius stared at her, a mixture of pride and shock on his face. "You don't look
like you used to," he said quietly.
She shrugged. "Thank the Ministry."
"Come here."
She stepped forward and took his outstretched hand.
"God," he breathed. "You look like your mother . . . I," he choked out the
words as the two watched his eyes start to become wet,"I just wish that she
could see you."
He swept her into a large hug as he started to cry. "You're so beautiful,
Raven. You're so beautiful." She threw Harry a helpless look over her father's
shoulder.
Harry looked down. His godfather, a man who had been hardened from years in
Azkaban, was crying like a baby. With his grip around Hermione's shoulders, it
seemed they'd be there for a while.
Sirius sniffled hard and held her back at arm's length. "Last time I saw you,
you weren't really even a month old. It's been a long time, love."
He sat down in a chair, still watching her as Harry and she sat on chairs.
Hermione bit her lip, then spoke. "So, did I have a name?"
He smiled. "Yes. Raven Black. Your mum, she loved her Edgar Allen Poe and
all. She was always very literate."
"Well, that explains a lot," Harry said chuckling. She hit him.
"Yeah, that's what got me the first time I met you, too. How you kinda were
like her in that way."
She made a non-committal noise, then looked up from the floor. "So, what do we
do now?"
"Well," he said slowly. "We can discuss that tomorrow. Now, I think, we all
just need some sleep. How about it?"
"Sounds good," said Harry and Raven in unison.
Sirius got up and started to eave the room, but paused and turned, eyebrows
knitted. "Where's Ron? Didn't they extract him?"
Raven looked down. Harry cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his
pockets. "Ron, Sirius, was spotted at Hermione's house during the explosion.
Ron also did something with his sister and killed the rest of his family.
They've got aurors looking for him as we speak."
Raven sighed as she flipped onto the bed, grabbing a fringed pillow and starting
to play with it. "So," she said slowly, watching Harry out of the corner of her
eye. He continued to look out the window towards a plaza visible from the room
they were sharing for the night. "What do you think's going to happen to Ron if
they find him?"
"I don't know, Her-Raven," he corrected himself.
She sat up, and slipped off the bed, walking over to Harry. She leaned against
the other side of the window. Carefully making sure she didn't make eye contact
with Harry, she spoke slowly. "There's a part of me that doesn't want them to
give him the Deatheater's Kiss. The other part of me, however, wants to kill
him myself." She gave him a helpless look. "I hate this, Harry. I feel like I
have two friggin people in my head!" She started to cry.
Harry sat down in the window seat, patting it to signal her to sit down. With a
sniffle, she leaned her head on his shoulder.
"Shh," he crossed his arms across her shoulders so she was laying against him.
"It's going to be alright."
Another sniffle. "How?"
"Because we have each other, and that's all we need."
Looking out the window, Harry closed his eyes. "You'll always have me," he
whispered.
Getting out the large bed, Raven stretched and looked around to find Harry
heartily eating some food.
"Finally," he said with a mouthful, "I don't think I ever seen anyone sleep that
long. I nearly ate all the pancakes and bacon and the rest of this myself."
"Call it a gift," she snapped, padding over to a small table she hadn't noticed
the night before. Come to think of it, she hadn't really noticed much at all.
Looking around, she realized that she'd never want to live in a room such as
this one. It was too much white and not enough clutter. After thinking of the
latter, she paused before taking a bite of a sausage and turned to Harry. "What
do you think we're going to do now?"
"Now that what?"
"Well," she looked at the ceiling at scrunched her nose in disgust. Popcorn
ceiling, yuck. "Now that I've found out my entire life was a lie, and that your
aunt and uncle are probably going to be fried to a crisp." Raven looked a grape
thoughtfully for a moment. "Do you think they'll allow them to be blown up like
that?"
"Probably not. They'll probably put them in some sort of Muggle Witness
Protection Program or something. And I'll be there with them." Harry leaned back in his chair and crossed his
arms.
"Nope, they can't now that Sirius is free. . . should I be calling him Dad or
something?" she looked at him curiously while she continued to chew.
"Don't ask me, Raven."
She got up out of her chair and sat on the arm of his. "You know, I love the
name and all, but, I mean, I need a nickname or something. I was Herm
beforehand. Or-"
"Herminny, as I remember Krum saying once."
She shuddered. "Please don't even mention his name."
He leaned forward in his seat, raising an eyebrow. "You don't like him then?"
She shook her head. "At first it was a little thrilling, I mean, all the girls
in school looking at me with envy. . . but, you know, after a while-"
"The spotlight starts to get a little warm," he finished for her. She nodded,
then looked down with a slight laugh, looking at the tapestry work on the armrest.
"But who am I to talk. You've been in it since the first year at Hogwarts."
"After a while you get used to it."
Raven nodded, excused herself, slipped of the chair and started toward the bathroom. She came back out
wearing something a little more suitable than pajamas and started to slip a pair
of boots on.
"No, I've watched you, Harry. Every time someone says something genuinely nice
to you, you panic and don't know what to do."
Harry didn't answer, but started towards the pile of their belongings in the
corner. "Fuck."
"Well that's a new one. What's the matter?"
He tore frantically through some clothing, cursing quietly as he did. "The
photograph album. The one with my parent's wedding pictures in it."
Raven paled. "No." She kneeled down next to him, the slight whish sound of her
leather pants was the only sound.
He sat back on his heels, rubbing his face. Raven looked through the clothing.
"Just stop, it's not in there," he said muffled by his hands.
Raven glared at him. "Hey, men focus on one spot while women use their
peripheral vision, so shut up. And why are you beet red?"
Harry cleared his throat and looked at the article of clothing she had in her
hand. Looking down, she saw that she was holding a pair of boxers with little
snitches on it. It was her turn to blush. "Oh."
Harry stood up and helped Raven to do the same. She patted his shoulder. "We'll
get it back, don't worry," she told him as they started toward the door. "We'll ask if we can go back to the
house or something, don't worry. We can't do anything until we actually leave the room."
He opened the door for her. "Ready?"
She let out a small laugh as she crossed her arms and walked out. "No, but I
guess someday I might be."