Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. J.K. Rowling owns all characters, places, etc. etc. etc.
" A penny for your thoughts, Hermione," her dad sat next to her on the Granger's back porch, his features chiseled in the fading daylight.
"I'm just worried about Harry, that's all," Hermione said. It had been almost two months since the end of fifth year.
"He's the famous one, right?" her dad asked.
"Only because his parents were killed. He's got nobody left. His parents died when he was just a baby, and now he's just lost his godfather. That's why I'm worried. He doesn't reply to any of the letters I or Ron send to him,"
"You're awfully concerned about him to be just his friend, Hermione,"
"Dad, I know where you're going with this, but trust me, we are just friends,"
"A lot of relationships start out that way,"
"We're just friends! Besides, with his good looks, he could have any girl in Hogwarts easily," Hermione sighed.
"That includes you. Hermione, you've grown into a very pretty young lady. I'm sure he sees that. He would be blind not to," her dad replied.
"You're my father. You have to say that,"
"I mean it," Hermione sighed.
"I'm going to bed," she said. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight,"
Harry sat on the other side of England, on his bed. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about his friends, Sirius, everyone. He hadn't said a word since he arrived at the Dursley's. He hadn't eaten much of anything, making him look more gaunt and thinner than ever. Even his aunt and uncle had worried about him (more for their sakes than Harry's. They knew that those weird freaks would come after them if Harry wasn't properly taken care of). He didn't respond to any letters. He spent most of his time in his room, leaving only to do his chores and use the restroom.
Harry didn't cry. Too many tears had already been shed. He didn't think he had any more tears left in him. Instead, he bottled it up. He felt like a time bomb, ready to blow at any minute. He felt a threat to everyone, as well as himself. He had pound his head against the wall many times for taking his friends to the Department of Mysteries. His heart ached whenever he thought about Ron and Hermione. He needed them here at Privet Drive, to comfort him, to drive away the loneliness. He needed Hermione more so than Ron. She was his rock, his reason amid pandemonium. He missed her hugs, and her glowing face. He needed her reason, now more than ever. He had realized something when she had almost died in the Department of Mysteries. He loved her. He could not live without her.
Harry heard a tapping at his window. He opened it, and Pig came swooping in. It took ten minutes to get the tiny ball of feathers to shut up and land so Harry could retrieve the letter. Hedwig hooted disapprovingly from her cage, awakened by Pig. Harry at last got the letter and opened it.
Harry-How are you? Why aren't you answering any letters? Hermione is really worried about you. She's yelled at me for not insisting you answer us. Mum is just as worried. That's why you should pack your bags. We're picking you up tomorrow at 3:00 in the afternoon.
Ron
Harry smiled. He would finally be leaving Privet Drive. He would be leaving the strange stares from the neighbors; the hatred that greeted him when he occasionally went down for breakfast, and the horrid chores the Dursley's could easily do themselves. He would be able to se his friends again, although for the second time, he dreaded going back to Hogwarts. Not for the first time, he hated his name. He didn't want to be famous and have a Dark Wizard after him. He wanted a normal life, free of adventures and danger.
Just before climbing into bed, Hermione had an owl swoop through her open window. It was Hermes, Percy's owl. Wondering why she would be getting a letter from Percy, she opened the letter.
Hermione-We're picking up Harry tomorrow afternoon and bringing him to the Burrow. Can you come too? Sorry if you were confused by Hermes. I sent two letters at the same time, and I sent Pig to Harry's. See you there.
Ron
Hermione wrote back telling Ron that she would be there, and flopped down on her bed. She thought about Harry. She wished she could be there with him, to ease his pain. She loved him; she realized that in fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament. She fell asleep thinking of his wonderfully messy hair and his gorgeous green eyes.
The next morning, Harry awoke, feeling happier than he had in a long time. He packed hastily, throwing things messily into his trunk and quickly cleaning Hedwig's cage. Apparently, he made a lot of noise, because Uncle Vernon came thundering into his room.
"Boy!" he barked. "What do you think you're bloody doing?"
"Packing," Harry's voice was hoarse from lack of use.
"And just where do you think you're going?"
"The Weasleys – you remember them, they're picking me up at three,"
"You've got some nerve boy, talking to me like that!" Vernon spat. "After we've given you the food off our table and put clothes on your back. Some nerve."
"Leftovers and Dudley's hand-me- downs. Some nerve I've got," Harry said sarcastically. Vernon raised his hand, but Harry was quicker with his wand. Vernon reluctantly lowered his palm. He knew that Harry would not falter to curse him, even though he wasn't supposed to use magic outside of school. Vernon snuck silently out of the room, leaving Harry to his packing.
Precisely at three in the afternoon, Harry, clad in a black t- shirt and jeans, heard a scream from downstairs. He raced downstairs to find Aunt Petunia clutching her heart and Mr. Weasley and the twins standing in the kitchen. They must of Apparated, thus scaring Aunt Petunia, for the doors were locked and the fireplace had been boarded up again two years ago.
"Hello, Harry!" Mr. Weasley said jovially.
"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Harry replied. He looked around for the twins, but they were gone. Then, he heard a hoot, Vernon's angry cursing, and the twin's laughter. Harry looked toward the stairs. His trunk and Hedwig's cage were levitating down them, the twins and Vernon behind them. Harry laughed.
"Well, then. Come on boys. Mr. Dursley, Mrs. Dursley, it's been wonderful seeing you again. Goodbye!" Mr. Weasley said, shooing the twins and Harry out the door.
As soon as they were out the door, Harry wondered how they were getting to the Burrow.
"Mr. Weasley, er…how are we getting to the Burrow? I'm too young to Apparate," Harry said.
"Of course we're not Apparating," Mr. Weasley said. "We're taking the Knight Bus. Now, everyone, stick out your wand arm." Immediately, they all stuck out their right arms. In less than a second, a large purple bus came swerving down Privet Drive. Again, Stan hopped down to give his speech.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus," he began, but stopped short when he saw Harry. "Hey Ern'! It's 'Arry! How are you 'Arry?"
"Er…fine, I guess," he said, climbing aboard and taking a seat. The Weasleys boarded a few seconds later.
The ride to the Burrow was a quiet one. The twins pondered over new Wizarding Wheezes, and Mr. Weasley read the Daily Prophet. The headline on the front page read "More Vanishing Shoes Puzzle Muggles in Whales". Harry leaned his head against the cool window and fell asleep.
Awhile later, Harry felt someone tapping his shoulder. He opened his eyes to find Mr. Weasley smiling at him.
"Harry, it's time to wake up. We're here," Mr. Weasley said. Harry yawned and stood up.
"Bye 'Arry!" Stan shouted as he got off the bus. It was dark outside, and turning colder. Harry hurried inside.
As soon as he walked into the house, Harry was being smothered. Much to his surprise, it wasn't Hermione. It was Mrs. Weasley, and his ribs were starting to hurt. His oxygen supply was dwindling. At last, she let go.
"Harry dear, how are you?" she asked. "You're so skinny! You need feeding up. Here, have some food." She ladened a plate full of food and tried to hand it to him.
"Er- no thanks," he said. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"
"Oh yes, of course. They're up stairs in Ron room," she assumed.
As Harry climbed the stairs, Harry saw out of the corner of his eye Tonks and Lupin sitting quietly in the living room. He wasn't prepared to talk to them, so he started to run up the stairs, reaching Ron's room within minutes. He could hear Pig twittering around excitedly as he turned the doorknob. He braced himself for a gigantic hug, but none came. He looked around. Ron was sitting on his bed, looking out his window. He turned around when Harry entered the room. Ron grinned from ear to ear.
"Hey," Harry smiled.
"Hey yourself. Hermione and I have been really worried about you," Ron said.
"Yeah, where is Hermione?"
"She's out side. I think she's watching my brothers play Quidditch," he said. "Let's go see."
As it turned out, Hermione wasn't watching the Quidditch game, but reading a book. She didn't notice the two boys step out into the garden. He noticed she'd changed a lot since the last time Harry had seen her. Her hair had ceased its bushiness, but instead had become wavy, cascading onto her shoulders. She had unmistakably grown very attractive.
"Hey Hermione, what are you reading?" Harry asked, crouching down to where she was sitting against a tree. She looked up from her book and smiled at him. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck into a hug that almost knocked him down. After a few seconds, she let go and looked him up and down. He's become so pale and thin she thought.
"How are you? Why haven't you answered any of our letters?" Hermione started to talk a mile a minute.
"Hermione, slow down," Ron said.
"And I'm fine, really," Harry lied. Hermione eyed him warily, but didn't press the subject.
The rest of the summer holiday was spent buying new robes, quills, schoolbooks, and other school supplies. By the time September first came, Harry was sure he would never need any more ink or parchment the rest of the year. His trunk bulged as he wheeled it through King's Cross. It was almost eleven o'clock. They were running behind schedule. They hastily got on to the platform, and rushed to find a compartment. They found an empty one near the end of the train and sat down, catching their breaths. Harry, Ron and Hermione waved to the Weasleys as the train pulled out of the station.
About halfway into the trip, Malfoy came sauntering into the trio's compartment. Despite Umbridge's absence from Hogwarts, he seemed quite calm and collected as he opened his mouth to issue his beginning of term insults.
"Potter, Mudblood, Weasel," he nodded.
"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry sighed.
"Just coming to see if the rumors are true," Malfoy shrugged.
"What rumors?"
"The rumors that say the little Mudblood has actually become attractive this year," Malfoy's lips curved into his trademark smirk.
"And why do you care?" Harry asked.
"It's nothing. I just so happen to be in the market for a girlfriend, and I only take the prettiest girls," he glanced at Hermione and looked her up and down. Harry didn't like the way he looked at her. He looked at her like she was a piece of meat, or a rare show dog. Anger washed over him like a tidal wave.
"And I'd probably be the best she'd ever get," Malfoy went on. Before he could say anything else, Harry's clenched fist coupled with his jaw. Malfoy staggered back, clutching his insulted jowl. For a moment, everyone was quiet and nothing happened. Then, fast as lightning, Malfoys fist shot out and struck Harry's upper lip, making a gash. Malfoy's reward was another punch to the face.
After a few minutes, Crabbe and Goyle realized what was going on and pounced on Harry. Ron bounded out of the compartment. He returned a few minutes later, with many D.A. members. Arrays of spells were shouted. Beams of light shot out. When the spells stopped, Crabbe was twisted like a pretzel, and Goyle was sporting many boils on his face. Malfoy, to escape being turned into something worse than a slug, fled to the next compartment.
Harry dusted himself off and sat back down next to his friends. Neville, Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Pavarti had decided to stay in case Malfoy came back. Harry had a cut on his upper lip; one above his right eye, and an angry gash ran down his left cheek.
"You didn't have to do that," Hermione said, fishing in her robes pockets for something.
"You're my friend," Harry said, wishing it were more than that.
"You still didn't have to do that. You could have been seriously hurt. In case you haven't noticed, Crabbe and Goyle weigh four times as much as you do," Hermione said, retrieving a small plastic bag filled with cotton balls, band-aids, and a bottle of clear liquid.
"You carry a first-aid kit around?" Ron asked, surprised.
"With the kind of adventures we go on, it's probably for the best I do carry one," Hermione told him. She poured some of the liquid onto a cotton ball.
"Er- what is that?" Harry asked.
"Harry, it's just rubbing alcohol. It just disinfects the wounds," she replied.
"Yeah," Seamus said. "No telling where those gits have been."
Hermione took the cotton ball and dabbed it on one of Harry's cuts. He winced with pain.
"Sorry," she said. "I forgot to tell you that it might hurt a bit."
"It's okay. I've had worse," Harry said. She dabbed at the other cuts. Harry winced with pain at each one. She apologized with each one, hating to see him in pain. When she finished putting the bandages on, their faces were inches apart. He wanted to kiss her, needed to kiss her, but couldn't. She wanted so much just to throw her arms around his neck and stay there, but couldn't. They were both scared to admit what everybody else already knew.
"Er- Are you guys okay?'' Ron's voice cut through. Harry and Hermione dropped their gaze.
"Yeah, Ron. Why would you think we weren't?" Hermione said hastily.
"Probably because you and Harry just spent the last five minutes staring at each other," Pavarti smiled wickedly. Hermione's thoughts raced a mile a minute. She told herself over and over that she and Harry were just friends. That she shouldn't be in love with him. Harry's thoughts ran equally as fast. He didn't regret getting into a fistfight with Malfoy. Five years of hatred had come out in two or three punches. He had acted in on impulse. He knew he and Hermione were just friends, but he really wanted them to be so much more than that. He had wanted to kiss her a few minutes ago; although he wouldn't know what to say to her or to the shocked faces he would've received. For the rest of the trip, Harry and Hermione sat next to each other in silence.
There were many confused faces as Harry walked into the Great Hall wearing bandages. Whispers plagued the crowd of students as he sat down. Dumbledore quieted the rumors a few moments later.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I will give more announcements after the first –year students have been sorted into their respective Houses," he said, and with that, Professor Mcgonaugall unrolled the long piece of parchment.
"Burnaby, Ben," she began. A small, timid boy of about ten climbed onto the stool. He was sorted into Ravenclaw. A while later, after Zimmercad, Andy was sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore started to speak again.
"As I said earlier, welcome to another year at Hogwarts. We are all glad to be back, I presume. Quidditch tryouts for the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Houses begin next week. First years are not permitted to tryout, but are more than welcome to cheer on their Houses. As always, the third floor corridor is off limits to all students," A small smile appeared on his lips as he gazed in the direction of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "No student is to go into the Forbidden Forest unless for detention or accompanied by a teacher. This year, we welcome back Remus Lupin as our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. As some of you remember, Professor Lupin taught here three years ago until some most unfortunate events took place. He is a fine teacher, and we are glad to have him back," Dumbledore motioned for Lupin to stand up. Harry, Ron and Hermione cheered louder than everyone. Dumbledore quieted the din once more.
"Some parting thoughts for you: Some things in life grow in times of trouble," Dumbledore glanced at Harry and Hermione. He had seen it since fourth year. Hermione took time to see if Harry was doing all right. Harry always defended her. Sure, that could be only a great friendship, but there was something deeper.
Throughout the first part of term, Harry and Hermione barely talked to each other, much to the dismay of their friends. They frequently met on one side of the Common Room to watch the couple in question.
"Why don't they just say it and get it over with?" Pavarti asked one night. "They're driving me insane."
"They're driving me insane too, but Pavarti, don't go fixing them up. You tried to fix Dean with your sister once—and you remember how that went," Seamus said.
"She still isn't talking to you," Lavender put in. "We want Harry and Hermione to stay together!"
Halloween came sooner than everyone expected. Instead of joining the festivities, Harry and Hermione were in the library. It was a bizarre sight to see, Harry in the library. Stranger still, Hermione had somehow convinced Harry to study for his N.E.W.T.s, which weren't until the following school year. Ron had told her this, but nevertheless, she headed off to the library, "dragging" Harry with her. At about ten that night. Madam Pince announced that the library would be closing in five minutes.
"We should be going," Hermione said, picking up her bag.
"Yeah," Harry mumbled, picking up his bag.
They walked in silence to the Fat Lady. They snuck glances at each other when the other wasn't looking. Hogwarts seemed to get bigger as the darkness swallowed it each night. Finally. Harry and Hermione reached the Fat Lady, only to find her gone. They sat down under it to wait for the Fat Lady to come back from whomever she was visiting.
A few minutes later, Harry heard a meow. Mrs. Norris was strolling around the corner.
"Wretched cat," Harry murmured.
"What?" Hermione asked, but stopped short when she saw Mrs. Norris. "Oh, no."
"I think we should run right about now," Harry said, pulling Hermione to her feet. "Run!"
Harry and Hermione streaked down the hallway as fast as they could, narrowly avoiding the Fat Friar as they tore around a corner.
"Humph! Well I never!" they heard the ghost say as they ran.
"Sorry!" they shouted in unison.
Somewhere around the Charms classroom, Harry spotted a broom closet. He grabbed Hermione's hand; trying to ignore the thousand sensations her skin was causing him.
"Quick! In here!" he opened the door and they climbed inside. It was extremely small. It was probably only big enough for one first year student to sit comfortably.
Hermione's thought's raced. She was pressed up against Harry's chest, which had been made broad from Quidditch. She could feel his heartbeat, and it was making hers flutter. After what seemed like hours, Harry spoke.
"I think he's gone," he whispered.
"I think so too," she said, slightly breathlessly. He tried to turn the knob.
"Oh, great," he mumbled. "It's locked."
"And I left my wand back in the Common Room," she said ruefully. They started to pound on the door. After a few minutes, some body opened the door. Unfortunately, it was Pavarti and Lavender.
"Harry? Hermione?" Pavarti asked, looking from Harry to Hermione, and then smiling wickedly.
"This is not what it looks like," Hermione said quickly.
"It isn't?" Lavender, too smiled maliciously.
"No, really it isn't," Harry replied, turning slightly red.
"We had to hide from Filch and his blasted cat," Hermione said, also turning red.
"Sure," Pavarti rolled her eyes. "Come on, you two." With some difficulty, Harry and Hermione climbed out of the broom closet. As soon as they reached the Common Room, Harry and Hermione dashed up their different dormitory steps.
The next day, Malfoy came strolling up to the Gryffindor table during breakfast.
"Malfoy, what do you want?" Harry sighed.
"Shut it, Potter. I was getting to that," Malfoy smirked. "I just heard that you and the Mudblood were caught in a broom closet."
"What's it to you?" Harry asked.
"Nothing. Just remember this, Potter," Malfoy glanced at Hermione. "I always get what I want, and nobody stands in my way. If they do…" he trailed off.
"I don't date Death Eaters," Hermione replied, not looking up from her Ancient Runes book (So You've Decided to Study Ancient Runes). Malfoy whipped out his wand.
"I'd be the best you'd ever get, you little Mudblood," Malfoy spat. "Who else would you date? Potter?" He raised his wand. Harry stood up quickly.
"Malfoy, if I were you, I'd put that wand away," Harry said. "I would not hesitate to hurt you." He raised a fist.
"Standing up for your little girlfriend are you?" Malfoy asked coolly.
"First off, she's not my girlfriend. Second off, I suggest you step away from this table," Harry took a step closer to Malfoy. Malfoy reluctantly snuck away from the Gryffindor table. By now, the whole school was looking at them. Harry quickly sat back down.
"Thanks," Hermione said.
"Anytime," he replied.
Soon, Christmas was upon Hogwarts. Garlands were strung, ornaments hung, and carols sung. Harry could take it all but the Christmas carols. They were driving him insane. The Quidditch season was paused for the winter, and because the Gryffindor Seeker had broken his arm. A Bludger had caught Harry from the side. He had to suffer with a cast because Madam Pomfrey was out sick with the wizard flu. At least Harry was not alone. Ron and Hermione had to stay over the holiday because Ron's parents were visiting Charlie and Hermione's parents were in the United States for a dentist's convention.
"So, how's your arm?" Hermione asked one night as the two of them sat in the Common Room. Ron had detention with Snape for calling him a greasy nosed git in class.
"It hurts, but I'll be okay," Harry said, glancing at the ugly cast. He was glad that it had been his left arm, since he was right-handed. "I won't be able to play Quidditch for awhile, though."
"You won't be able to play anyway," Hermione said, staring out the window at the swirling snow. The whiteout the previous evening had left the Hogwarts grounds covered in a powdery blanket of snow. Harry's gaze never left her. She blushed slightly and bent over her Arithmancy homework again.
"Could you check this for me?" Harry asked, picking up a lengthy piece of parchment.
"Sure," Hermione looked up as Harry walked towards her. He leaned over her shoulder. Her breath caught as she felt his breath on the back of her neck.
"Harry, you know I can't do this when you're reading over my shoulder," she said, looking back at him. In less than a moment, Harry's lips were on top of hers and they were sharing a long anticipated kiss. Harry had never loved any body so much in his entire life. He couldn't deny it any longer: he was utterly and completely in love with Hermione Granger. He was vaguely aware that someone had just walked in through the Portrait Hole.
"About bloody time, too," a voice said calmly. Harry and Hermione broke apart to see Ron standing in front of them, a huge grin plastered to his face. He stared at his two best friends for a moment, and then scurried out of the Portrait Hole.
"Do you think he'll tell everyone?" Hermione groaned.
"No," Harry smiled. "But he'll tell Pavarti and Lavender, who'll tell everyone."
"Great," Hermione said sarcastically. "Why did you do that?"
"You mean kiss you?" Hermione nodded. Harry ran a hand through his hair. Now was not the time for a confession. "Because… I love you."
"What?" Hermione's voice came out choked. His words had sliced right through all the logic in her mind.
"I love you, Hermione," Harry repeated. He sat down next to her. He wanted so much to take her in his arms. Seeing the stunned look on her face, he got up to leave, embarrassed.
"Harry, wait," she said, grabbing his arm. He tried to shake her off, but she held fast. He finally gave up and sat back down next to her. He sighed and looked up at her. "I love you, too."
Harry's mind seemed to have lost all control. He was the happiest he had been since he'd received his Hogwarts letter, if not much happier. With a strength he didn't know he had, he tore off the hideous cast (much to the protestation of his arm) and wrapped both his arms around Hermione. He never knew he was capable of loving someone this much. His arm hurt like mad, but he didn't care. Hermione was finally able to wrap her arms around his neck. Suddenly, both of them heard a sniff. Turning around, they saw a very disgusted-looking Dean, Seamus, a weeping Pavarti, Lavender, a grinning Ron, and Ginny.
"I thought you'd never say it!" Ginny smiled warmly.
"I'm glad," Dean said, "but now I owe Seamus ten Galleons."
"That was so sweet!" Pavarti and Lavender blubbered together.
"I have to admit, you two are very cute together," Ron grinned. Harry threw a quill at him. "Hey! What did I do?"
Over the next day or so, the story had spread like wild fire across all four Houses, and even the teachers. Bets were being pay off. Even Dumbledore was seen collecting a pile of Sickles from a disappointed looking Professor Snape. There were many I-told-you-sos being whispered in the hallways when they passed.
Although Harry was the happiest boy in the world, he was extremely worried. He wondered what he'd done. He might as well of painted a big bulls eye on her, as he soon found out.
"Harry! Mate! Wake up!" came the cry one night. Harry opened his eyes to find Ron standing over his bed, his eyes filled with worry and concern.
"What? Was I thrashing around in my sleep again?" Harry asked. He yawned widely.
"No, but there's something you should see," Ron took Harry by the arm and dragged him over to the window. As soon as he was upright on his feet, a sharp throb shot through Harry's scar. Since this was a regular occurrence, he didn't think much of it. That is, until he looked out of the window.
As he stared at the sky, a sick feeling sank into the pit of Harry's stomach. An emerald green skull that seemed as it were made from the stars themselves hung in the sky. A long snake protruded from the mouth like an ugly tongue. Harry knew at once what it was, as did the other boys in the dormitory. He staggered on his feet for a moment, and then dashed out of the dormitory and down the steps, tripping on Dudley's over-sized lounge pants as he went.
The first thing he saw when he slipped into the Common Room was Pavarti and Lavender staring out the window. They turned around and looked wide-eyed at Harry.
"Harry, it's the Dark Mark," said Pavarti quietly.
"I know," Harry panted, grabbing his wand. " Find Hermione and tell her to stay where she is. Tell her not to worry. Tell her… tell her I love her." With that, he ran out of the Common Room, leaving a terrified looking Pavarti behind.
The walls that blurred past him as he ran triggered a flood of memories. He was reminded quickly of his first year, a troll in a bathroom, a giant chess set, a magical stone and Nicholas Flammel. Then second year bled into his mind. The Burrow, the Polyjuice Potion that had turned Hermione into a cat, a mind numbing snake and a very young Tom Malvolo Riddle. Third year. Sirius, Pettigrew, Scabbers, Buckbeak, and a werewolf. Fourth year. The World Cup, Veela, Cho Chang, Hermione's kiss at the end of the year. Fifth year. The D.A., an alcoholic Winky, Umbridge, Cho under the mistletoe, Hermione's limp body as she was cursed, and Sirius' death. This year. A broom closet, his fist on Malfoy's jaw, a bag of cotton balls and rubbing alcohol, the kiss.
The crisp air tousled his messy locks as he stepped out onto the grounds, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. His scar hurt terribly, and the pain swelled with each step he took.
"He'll be okay, Hermione, you'll see," Lavender assured her.
"Not with a hundred Death Eaters," Hermione said hurriedly, chewing her nails.
"He's a pretty powerful wizard," Ron said. They were all gathered in the Common Room. Hermione was still a little shell shocked because of what Pavarti and Lavender had told her.
"Ron, he's only sixteen!" Hermione insisted.
"Hermione, he fended off a bunch of Dementors when he was only thirteen. I think he'll make it out of this one." Hermione ignored this remark and stared out of the window worriedly.
Standing directly under the luminous jade skull was a large group of men in masks, all with wands pointed unshakably at him. Harry's fear suddenly doubled. His chance of survival was very slim, and growing smaller by the second as the group approached him. One of the men walked up to him, obviously the leader of the group.
"Potter," he spat, as if it were a word uttered disgustingly rather than spoken aloud. "Master will be wanting to see you."
I'll bet he would, Harry thought.
"Well, come along," the Death Eater said. "Master does not like to be kept waiting." He took Harry by the collar of his huge shirt and pushed him along. When Harry resisted, the greasy hand moved from the collar to his throat, cutting off his air supply.
"You'll do as you're told, or the consequences will be brutal," the owner of the hand, sneered.
"Let go of me," Harry gasped. "Voldemort won't like it if you show up and his worst enemy is already dead."
"Scum!" the Death Eater threw him on the ground as if Harry's throat had burned his hand. "You filthy half-blood! You've no right to say his name aloud!"
"Like I told you last year," Harry breathed. "Voldemort is half-blood, too." Another Death Eater mumbled something, and a second later, Harry doubled over in pain.
"I see the famous Harry Potter doesn't take kindly to a simple Cruciatus Curse," came the sneer, this one a woman's voice. Harry recognized it almost immediately. Bellatrix Lestrange. The one who killed his godfather. Harry once again felt a cold hand glide around his throat and lift him up until his feet were dangling off the ground.
"Again, Potter, you'll do as your told,"
"Or what?" Harry gasped.
"Or a certain Mudblood will endure a painful death," Lestrange laughed.
"You won't lay a hand on Hermione," Harry said through gritted teeth.
"We won't if you cooperate," the one with his hand clamped around Harry's neck said casually.
"Fine," the hand released his pain filled neck. "Let's go."
They walked inside the castle and Harry was pushed into corridors he hadn't even known about. They took so many turns Harry was sure that if he lived, he would never be able to find his way back to Gryffindor Tower.
"We're here," a voice said, but Harry wasn't sure where "here" was. It resembled one of the dungeons, but was warmer and the walls weren't covered in fungi. A hooded figure stood in a corner, laughing somewhat as Harry was forced into the room.
"So, Potter," he drawled. "We meet again."
"Voldemort," Harry said.
"You must be very brave to say my name aloud, or else extremely stupid," Voldemort snorted. "I suspect it's the latter."
"At least I don't have to hide behind a fake name," Harry said. "Really, couldn't you think of something a little more evil sounding?"
"As threatening as my name may be, or not be, is not important. You know why you're here, as do I," Voldemort raised his wand. Then he turned to the Death Eaters huddled like eager children in the doorway. "You may go." He turned back to Harry.
"I've been waiting a long time for this moment," he sneered. "Fifteen years ago you turned me into nothing. Now, I am stronger than I was then. Though the prophecy was smashed, it won't be very hard to destroy you now. Your love for the Mudblood Granger has no doubt made you soft. You are very much like your father, Potter. All emotions and no brains. He, too, fell for a Mudblood, and gave up his life for the stupid girl. As I know you've heard, your mother was an idiot. She didn't have to die. If only she'd given me you, she wouldn't have had to die. These words probably have no effect on you anymore. In that case, it might be better if I showed you."
An assumed calm image filled every corner of Harry's mind.
A red- haired woman stood over a crib, cooing to the baby inside it. The baby, raven-haired and smiling, flung it's arms around and laughed happily.
"Goodnight, Harry," she said softly. "I love you." The baby slowly drifted off to sleep. The silence as ripped apart a few minutes later by a man's voice.
"LILY!" the man yelled from the floor below.
"James! Be quiet!" Lily said, loud as she dared. "You'll wake the baby. He sleeps so little as it is."
"Never mind the baby!" James shouted. "Take Harry and get out of the house! Now! I'll fight him off! Go!" Realization dawned on Lily's face as she tore back into the nursery. The baby fussed as she picked it up.
"Shhh. It will be okay," she cooed, hugging the baby to her. She turned to run out the door when she saw a hooded figure blocking it.
"Go away! I won't let you take him!" Lily yelled tearfully. "I'll die before I give him to you!"
"Stupid girl," the hooded figure drawled. "If you just give me the brat, I'll spare your life."
"Never! I'll never give him to you!"
"Avada Kedavra!" a woman's scream followed the fateful words. Lily's body crumpled to the ground, letting go of the baby. The baby fell onto the ground, crying loudly. The hooded figure picked it up and held it at arm's length, as if he'd never held a baby and had no idea how one went about it. The figure set the baby on the ground and cackled.
"Finally!" he said. "Lord Voldemort will never perish!" and with that, the figure raised his wand and muttered the Killing Curse. But instead of killing the child, it backfired. The room filled with green light. When the light disappeared, the baby lay confused on the ground, a lightning-bolt shaped cut on his forehead. The hooded figure had gone.
"NOOOOOOO!" Harry found himself on the ground as the image faded in his mind. His breath came in deep spurts, and his skin was covered in cold sweat.
"Stupid girl, your mother," Voldemort seemed calm. "Prettier than the dawn, but stubborn as a mule and stupid as a fly."
"You're a sick man," Harry gasped, picking himself up from the ground.
"Sick, or a genius?" Voldemort laughed. "I admit, at the time, it was a rather idiotic thing to do. I could've made your mother my wife, or at least a Death Eater."
"She would have never had you," Harry spat angrily.
"She would have with a bit of…persuading," Voldemort said, fingering his wand. "I of, course, would've had to do a lot of persuading, since she was smitten with Potter."
"Well, why not just kill me now?" Harry said spitefully. "You have your chance. Why are you standing around talking to me?"
"Because I can't," Voldemort said, very disappointed. "There is a power that you do not yet know you posses, but I do. If I destroyed that secret power, then I could kill you. Unfortunately, she is too well protected. I cannot reach her. By this time, Potter, you should know who I'm talking about." Harry did, and was glad he left Hermione with Pavarti and Lavender.
"I can't, but Wormtail can," Voldemort laughed. "Peter! Come over here!" The ratty little man meekly made his way over to his master, quivering from head to foot and sputtering.
"Y-yes master?" Wormtail stuttered.
"Kill him!" Voldemort commanded, pointing a knobby finger at Harry. "Now!"
"Yes, m-mast-ster," Wormtail said. Wormtail reluctantly raised his wand, ready to utter the words that would be Harry's demise, when there was a loud cawing from overhead, and a streak of scarlet quickly passed through Harry's line of vision.
"Fawkes?" Harry cocked his head while Wormtail staggered off balance. The phoenix had dropped something at Harry's feet. He picked it up and smiled slightly as he thought about the giant snake he had killed with the sword in his hand. Voldemort laughed.
"Again! The song bird!" he laughed. "Dumbledore must think very highly of you to send you such a pretty bird!"
"Oh, he does," Harry, said, walking over to Voldemort, the sword gripped in his hand. Before the Dark Lord had even stopped laughing, Harry had plunged the long, flat piece of steel into his stomach. Voldemort sputtered nonsense as the sword was pulled out of his body. He felt his stomach with his hand, and started to sob as the dark red liquid pumped over his fingers. Harry's wand lay forgotten on the stone floor some feet away. Harry dropped the sword, amazed at what he'd just done. Voldemort's blood pooled around his shoes. He was so engrossed in looking at the dead Voldemort, he never heard Wormtail utter the spell until there was a gash across his arm. His shirt was splattered with blood. He turned around suddenly to find a not-so meek Wormtail cursing his bad aim.
"You!" Harry barked. "Drop the wand or suffer the same fate as your master!" Wormtail dropped the wand as if were white-hot. Harry grabbed it and snapped it neatly in half. Then he grabbed Wormtail firmly by the hair.
"Harry, Harry, please," Wormtail pleaded.
"Oh stop blubbering!" Harry was suddenly filled with anger. "I never should have spared your life! I should have let Sirius finish you off!"
"Please, Harry, I never meant to…"
"Shut up!" Harry spat. "You're coming with me. And don't try to turn into a rat, either, or you'll join him." Harry cocked his head in Voldemort's direction.
"Y-yes, sir," Wormtail sputtered. Harry found little satisfaction in making Wormtail fear him.
"Now," Harry went on. "You are going to tell those Death Eaters that Voldemort has ordered them to let me go."
"That won't be necessary, sir," Wormtail said softly. "Death Eaters cannot live without the Dark Lord." Harry opened the door and shoved Wormtail out first, his hand still clamped tightly on his hair, the other hand gripping his wand. The floor of the corridor was covered in a thick layer of dust. Wands littered it, along with cloaks and masks. Harry's footsteps echoed along the now empty hallway. At the end of the hallway was a door, obviously old. A long crack ran down the center of it. The handle was dull and round, almost blending into the faded crimson paint on the door.
"Where does this lead, Wormtail?" Harry asked the pathetic man.
"I-I do not know, sir," was the reply. Harry approached warily. The door squeaked loudly as he turned the knob. Harry stuck his head into the room. It was Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore himself sat in a chair behind his desk, his hands crossed and a smile playing on his face as Harry walked in, looking exhausted and thoroughly confused. Pettigrew's nervousness increased as Harry shoved him into the office.
"Very good, Harry, very good indeed," Dumbledore said. "You've just defeated the most feared wizard in the world." He waved his hand, and four Ministry Officials walked in, relieving Harry of Pettigrew. Wormtail struggled and screamed for Harry to help him. Harry turned away to look at Dumbledore.
"Er, no one was hurt because of the Dark Mark, were they?" he asked.
"Miss Granger is fine and no doubt waiting for you in Gryffindor Tower," Dumbledore smiled. "I'm actually quite surprised, Harry."
"Why?"
"You've just killed Voldemort and returned not only fairly unharmed, but with no questions,"
"Actually, I have one,"
"What is it?"
"Why did those Death Eaters turn to dust when I killed Voldemort?"
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled.
"Do you remember when you learned about the effects of drinking Unicorn's blood?" he asked.
"Yeah. They would have a cursed life, a half life," Harry said.
"With Voldemort, his followers need him to survive. Just like Nicholas Flammel had to drink the Elixir of Life every now and then, the Death Eaters need to report to him every once in a while, so that they did not die. The moment he died, they turned to dust," Dumbledore said slowly. "Now, Harry, off you go." Harry walked somberly out of Dumbledore's office and up to Gryffindor Tower.
Harry wearily muttered the password to the Fat Lady and climbed through. Everyone's head turned. Harry reddened slightly. He hated being the center of attention.
"Harry! You're alive! Thank Merlin!" Ron shouted, clapping his friend on the back. He sat in a chair by the fire. Hermione sat in the one next to him, fast asleep. Pavarti and Lavender sat next to her, looking exhausted.
"We finally got her to go to sleep," Lavender said wearily. "She was so worried about you, Harry."
"She kept thinking you were going to be killed," Ron said, suddenly serious. Hermione stirred next to him. She sat up and looked around. The moment she saw Harry, she leapt into his arms.
"Harry! You're alive!" she shrieked, hugging him tight. "You're alive!"
"And thank Merlin he is!" Ginny said. "You gave us quite a scare when you just rushed out of the Common Room in your pajamas." Harry looked down. He was still dressed in the over- sized shirt and pants he slept in. He laughed.
"So," Lavender said. "Is…he gone?"
"Yeah," Harry sighed, pulling himself and Hermione into a vacant chair.
Over the next few months, life more or less went back to normal. Voldemort's name was said freely, though people still flinched when they heard it. By killing him, Harry became more famous, much to his dismay. Whenever he was in public, he traveled underneath the Invisibility Cloak, as not to be seen by the huge gangs of squealing girls (despite the fact that everyone knew he wasn't the Wizarding World's Most Eligible Bachelor anymore).
Harry sighed as he climbed off the Hogwarts Express that year. The Dursleys, as they were every year, were waiting for him, looking stiff and unnatural amid the hugs and welcomings. Vernon's mustache twitched as his nephew approached, trunk and owl in tow.
"Well," he said. "Come along, boy. We don't want people to see you and your… things."
"Well hello again!" a buoyant voice said as they turned to leave. Mr. Weasley stood with his children, extending his hand for Vernon to shake. Vernon looked at it as if were a venomous snake. Ron broke the awkward silence.
"Well, Harry, we'll see you soon, I hope," Ron said.
"Write often," Hermione said, hugging Harry tight. Harry caught her lips in his for a good-bye kiss. They finally let go when Vernon cleared his throat. As they left, Vernon spoke.
"Are you…. Are you dating that girl?" Vernon asked, rather strangely.
"Yes," Harry said defiantly. Petunia looked horror-struck at the tone Harry took.
"Who'd want to go out with you?" Dudley asked pigishly.
"Hermione," Harry replied as King's Cross Station pulled out of view.