Title: The Letter
Word Count: 7,100+
Status: Complete
Rating: M
Pairing: Draco/Hermione, and I guess a little bit of Harry/Ginny in the first chapter!
Summary: Harry happens upon whispered voices one night, Hermione is secretly tutoring Malfoy, and Draco receives an important letter from his mother - with what as the result?
Disclaimer: I honestly have never owned anything as handsome as Draco Malfoy, or anyone as smart as Hermione Granger – those are all JKR's. Not mine at all.
Beta: MICHELLE, seriously, is the best :). And I'm so glad she had time to look at this with her classes and whatnot.
Banner: made by Elysium from TDA!
Notes: SO. This was a hot mess when I first wrote it, then went through a crazy-good beta, but I believed it still needed some work. So here's that work :). I hope you guys like it!
The Letter: One of Four
i.
Day 1; 7:47 pm.
Harry yawned, absentmindedly squeezing Ginny's fingers in silent reassurance; for his own or hers he wasn't certain at all. Not only was he constantly worried about the impending war that - surely, he thought - was coming soon, it seemed Ginny couldn't get away from such depressing thoughts either. He frequently found her crying, shaking so hard it took him more than an hour to calm her down with false security and broken whispers, promises that he could never follow through with spewing from his lips like a bad habit.
There was still time, he'd always think. Time to find the horcruxes, time to kill Voldemort, and endless amounts of time to live the rest of his life with his girlfriend and lover, Ginny. He would continue being best friends with Hermione, best friends with Ron, and he'd have the Weasley clan to fill in that empty place for a family in his heart. He'd have it all. He deserved at least that much.
Harry tried so hard to always remember to stay hopeful. He found he reminded himself far too frequently in the day, almost constantly at night, and not a moment passed when he was with Ginny that he didn't think about it, worrying so much that he'd never get to spend that much time with her again. So he'd started to drag her out to the Black Lake, just to be with her, whenever he felt particularly pensive and unsure about the future.
Simply, the scenery was beautiful to look at, creating a tranquil atmosphere he almost thrived for constantly. But having Ginny there with him made it even better. She sometimes soothed his worries away, brushed them off like they really never existed, and other times sympathized in his thoughts and cried with him, seeking comfort in his arms – and no matter how much he shook with her, cried with her, he always loved to have her sink into his arms, and then have her there for him in return. It was, if anything less than comforting, the best way to get over his problems, perhaps only for the moment, and he wished severely – every time they did this – that he could just stay out here with her forever.
But that just wasn't so, with the interference of life and all.
Ginny was wrapped comfortably in his arms this time, falling into his body like she wouldn't think of leaving in a million years. It was really nice because, silence or not, they always stayed out here until it got too cold to bear, and he could never get enough of her. He was infinitely glad that Ginny was able to sit here with him without getting bored like he presumed many other girls would, especially since he'd heard several different stories from various people about how obnoxious their girlfriends could be. He was very appreciative of Ginny, and he wouldn't trade it for anything else.
He was, of course, hesitant to leave her at the end of the year, and the more the days grew closer to his graduation, the more he began to hate the fact he was a year older than her. Harry was content on having her come back without him next year (she was safe at Hogwarts), regardless of his anger at knowing he wouldn't be seeing her often at all. Not like this, he thought.
His worries about her danger, and his as well, were momentarily lifted since he'd found and destroyed the remaining horcruxes that had been left following Dumbledore's death. After the funeral, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had taken their respective possessions they'd received from their former Headmaster and decided that now was as good a time to start their quest as any. Harry had spent his summer staying at Grimmauld Place with both Ron and Hermione. From there, they had worked together every moment they could to uncover what each horcrux was and where each one was located. They were constantly helped by Order members, aided with opinions and conclusions and evidence; the most frequent being Remus, Tonks, Molly, Arthur, and on the rare occasion, Mad-eye. It was only a matter of weeks before several upon several clues and leads were what they had, backed up by facts and information only Hermione and Tonks had been able to gather braving the wee hours of the morning.
The three of them insisted on leaving together when they finally decided to retrieve a horcrux and a reluctant Remus and Molly let them go with a hug instead of a lecture. Harry had counted on these to instill the same emotions in him after the first time they had gone on a quest. He had felt assured that people were looking out for him, ready on a moment's notice to come after him should trouble arise, and the rush of a serious vendetta on finding Voldemort had multiplied. He had thought too long and too hard on how his life had been molded because of such a powerful and rage-filled wizard, and Harry had felt the rush of something every time he left Grimmauld to stop the hardships of war at all costs. He found out only later, after obtaining and destroying all pieces of Voldemort, that it had actually worked.
He remembered watching Hermione shake the entire way the first time they'd gone, and he had wanted so badly to be able to grab her wrist, shake her attention onto him, and then tell her she could safely go home, that they'd be able to get it without her help. But he'd be kidding himself if he had said that, which was what had stopped him – Hermione was what kept them out of serious situations turned threatening and provided the knowledge they needed to dodge dangerous magical traps. That's what killed him, though; knowing he was the one to put her in such situations and hoping – only hoping because that's all he could do – that they'd all make it out alive. Solely on his behalf and the prophecy that needed to be filled.
Ron had been worse, however. His usual joking-nature was put on hold, for perhaps only that day, and a strange silence had taken over his best friend. Never had Harry seen him like that. It shook him to the core, coupled with Hermione's reactions as well as the startling reality of what, precisely, his friends were sacrificing to be with him. The redhead had given pointers, in a gruff sort of voice, whilst no apples of color from nervousness appeared on his cheeks. It had been a riveting experience, and one that had only gotten normal – he hated thinking that them acting fearful, anxious, and out of character became routine – after they had searched for horcruxes more than a couple times.
"What are you thinking about?" Ginny's soft voice asked, drawing his thoughts toward her and away from his musings. Her hand was playing with the ends of his hair, feather light touches coming in contact with the skin of his cheek every few moments, which made him shiver from its simple intimacy. She was practically on top of him, really, but the touches of her hand were making him react more than their position was. Interesting.
His arms tightened around her, and he heard a soft mew of comfort escape her lips. Harry glanced down, smiling happily before resting the ball of his chin atop her shoulder, turning inward into her neck before pondering her question.
"A lot," he answered. "Everything." He breathed a sigh of stress against her neck, feeling goosebumps surface a moment later and her hands moving to grab the back of his neck in pleasure. "Thank you," he whispered, suddenly appreciating every single gesture of selflessness he'd gotten from those in his life. "Thank you so much."
"For what?" she inquired, moving hot breath closer to his ear and leaning in closer to his body – if that was even possible with how close they already were.
"For...everything. For being here when I need you. For always knowing how exactly to cheer me up, how to make me keep going day-to-day, and for dealing with my moods. It's..." he paused, trailing a hand along her waist and backing up to look her in the eye. "...extremely helpful and amazing to be able to rely on you for anything, and I honestly don't think I could ever... That is, I could never lose you, Ginny... I just can't. And I...I needed you to know that – how much I appreciate having you here with me. How much I need you."
Ginny's hand tightened almost painfully on his neck, her tears having started spilling halfway through his "thanks". She hugged him tightly then, even more so then before, and he couldn't help but realize that Ginny, along with everything he'd ever done or said to her, had been the only thing he'd gotten right in his life.
ii.
Day 4; 8:54 pm.
They'd begun discretely asking students, whether they were interested in the war or not, starting last year. They'd ask whether they supported Voldemort or Harry Potter, taking special measures to keep it entirely covert. Hermione had perfected a charm to make their possible new recruits believe it was only curiosity and absolutely nothing else, though Harry thought it was more for her assurance that no one suspected anything of her nosiness into others' business than making certain no one would find out about the DA. Typical Hermione, he'd thought, smiling.
Regardless, her elaborate methods proved worthwhile. When a person displayed a particular interest in Harry Potter, or showed feelings against Voldemort, they were privately invited to attend a meeting. No explanation of said meeting was given, also to ensure that they weren't privy to knowledge before signing Hermione's contract, but they'd been sure everyone they'd talked to would be curious enough to come and then, hopefully, interested enough to stay.
That's precisely how they'd acquired nearly two-hundred DA members this year.
"Thank you all for coming, once again. And remember, there's nothing more important than staying alert. Be ready for anything, at all times. We never know when war could break out and I'd rather have you all prepared to help the way you've learned..." Harry looked around nervously, hands in his pocket at how many eyes stared back at him. Though he thought he'd be used to it by now, it unnerved him even more than before. Too many expectations now. "Next week, then!"
Harry smiled however, taking in a deep breath because this had been a long time in coming.
They'd had to re-think the inside of the Room of Requirement to fit every person who had joined in the recent months. Though it had taken Hermione five days to figure out how to imagine that large a room, when they couldn't really estimate the expanse two-hundred people needed, it had definitely been worth the wait and time Hermione had been irritated without the answer.
"Thank you," he said over and over again as people left, wondering how so many could believe in him so purely. How they could possibly put so much faith in one person. "You did great today," he added once in a while, making eye contact with those who had been improving immensely over the last month.
"I feel like we're making a difference," he spoke, slowly and thoughtfully, when every person had left. This left him, Ron, and Hermione in the largest room any of them had ever seen, hearing their echoes almost eerily.
"We are," Hermione grinned, perusing the room and looking about as if all her accomplishments and awards were hanging on the walls – as if that was her salvation, her world after the end of the war when everything was safe and happy. He was jealous that she could always do that. "We are, Harry."
"And it feels bloody great doing it," Ron chimed in, standing closer to Hermione.
Hermione sighed, always annoyed by his swearing, but shared a laugh with him instead. Harry watched the interaction and chuckled as well; it was rare that they felt this connected, and he knew they'd be reveling in it for days to come with soft smiles and coy glances...and then, yet another one of their fights. He wished it would stop some day and finally turn into something else.
"Come on, let's go get food from the kitchens."
iii.
Day 10; 9:39 pm.
When he'd left the Gryffindor Common Room in search of silence, perhaps a little time with Ginny down at the lake, he never thought he would just happen upon something pivotal in the war against Voldemort. It wasn't as if he sought out important things, dangerous things, whenever he felt the lag was too long between the last one and the next one. Merlin, he'd enjoyed the small reprieve the beginning of school provided him, only having to worry about Ginny, the DA, and trying to get Ron and Hermione together. The horcruxes were gone, Malfoy was back at Hogwarts but silent as ever, and Snape was still aiding him in being a better fighter. So far, it was good and bearable, almost normal even.
But then...this.
He had wanted Ginny to come with him for a walk, possibly to the lake, mostly because he hadn't seen her all that much today. However, she'd been stuck up in the girls' dormitories, likely talking about boys and gossip like she said they mostly did. He had hoped, very belatedly indeed, if she ever talked about him with her friends.
That's when he had happened upon it.
The whispered, feverish voices had gotten louder as he had approached one end of the castle; near the dungeons but still far enough away that Harry didn't have to worry about his well-being every second or so. Regardless, this particular situation was odd, even in Hogwarts – silencing charms were often used, and never ignored by people wanting to keep a secret, like these whispered voices implied. So naturally, Harry did what any generally curious boy would do and bent his head forward to press his ear gently against the door, keeping eerily silent. Any conversation that was kept quiet with low voices usually signified importance, so he could not mess this up.
"This isn't right," one voice was saying, and Harry could hear the strain behind the words – had they been using regular octave levels, it would have been yelled instead. "What is this, anyway? How can this even be- How. Is this. Possible?" With every word, a desk was hit, and he could only assume this person was increasingly pissed off from the harsh sound. "How can a bloody twelve-year-old kid think of a list...like this? And know every bloody name...every middle name even! And then know that these would be actual people – people he would end up killing. Hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands..." Then a rustle of papers.
Harry's eyebrows skyrocketed, though the rest of his body had remained still in shock. This was definitely proving to be interesting, and could possibly turn to something imperative in his future. It already sounded like something connected to Voldemort, and more than being just a constant worry on his mind, he felt that he was stuck to this spot simply because he was Harry Potter, hoping to find a way to destroy Voldemort wherever he went.
"He knew," another person replied quickly, clearly calmer than the first speaker. This voice, however, was strangely familiar, but Harry couldn't place who it was at all. "He just knew, okay?"
"Again. How. Is that. Possible? Nobody, not even a talented person with special magical capabilities, could do that. No one can simply look into the future, accurately guess every person they're going to murder, and then proceed to write their names down...like a checklist because he knew he was going to become a murderer. No one. Not even fucking seers-"
"It's magic."
"But what magic can do that? You and I both know there is no such thing, in any crevice of the dark magic books our fathers have! I don't even understand..." the male sighed strenuously before letting out a deep breath. "What the hell made it possible for him to know this information? Can it even be proven correct and-"
"Are you bloody thick? What magic overthrows all? It's dark magic, you dolt. Anyone is capable of creating new spells, for example, but the stipulations of doing such things for even using it are what scare people off. Of course he'd find a way, even at such a young age because, honestly, you would have to be born dark to become like him. Nevertheless, under certain circumstances – like his – it was within good reason. It would tell him where to start next when he wasn't sure, and you know how he despises being at a loss."
Silence.
And then: "Fine, then...if you know so much, explain how I'm on the list? I've stayed far the fuck away from him, as much as I can in my family, and I swear all ties were ceased over the summer. I made fucking sure of it. And it'd be really great – really, really fucking great since you know all – why I'm on-"
"How the fuck am I supposed to know-"
"-because you seem to bloody know all about everything-"
"-didn't tell you so you could yell at me like this! I thought this would make you appreciate friends instead of fucking demanding to know reasons you sure as hell know I don't know! For once, I wanted to help-"
"Boys!" a female intervened suddenly, shocking Harry from realizing there was a random person he hadn't heard a word from previously. It seemed, however, that this girl had no problem speaking at a normal volume. Harry eyed the end of the corridor warily, realizing that he'd forgotten to keep a lookout just in case someone had felt like coming down here for the silence he had originally sought. "The list is the list. Nothing is going to change that! You didn't have to spring it on him... And you didn't have to have a go at him once he'd told you! And for Merlin's sake...we're making too much noise," she said, sounding exasperated.
An exhale of breath was heard, a moment of silence, and then, "You should listen to her, B-"
"To hell with that! Her name isn't on the list – she's not the one with her death sentence sitting in front of her, and her best friends acting as if it's nothing! And then demanding her not to freak out!"
For a moment, Harry heard nothing, and he thought that perhaps they had finally remembered to cast a silencing charm, which meant his luck would be cut short. Or, even more possibly, they had hit a rut in the conversation or had just given up on their insanely worried and distraught friend. There was a rustle of clothing, however, and then what sounded like a sigh, followed by the female's voice he didn't recognize whatsoever.
"Please, Bl-"
"Names!" the other male interrupted. It was the first time Harry had an inkling that they knew not to use names – a precaution they were obviously taking for some strange reason. It would have been a lot easier had they just used a silencing charm, obviously not a good thing for him since he'd gained all this information, but knowing not to use names would give the impression they were hoping people would overhear them but not come to know their identities.
But...
No.
Could this be a set up, he thought. Could three students – or at least he thought there were still only three of them in there – really mean for others to listen in but not guess who they were? To take what they were saying, use it, research it, and then, hopefully, get it back to someone in charge to take action?
No.
He abruptly recognized he wanted Ron and Hermione here, just so they could be his second ears and so Hermione could get to what really was going on. She had always been so good at doing that, and her abilities had never failed before. Walking back to get them was, unfortunately, out of the scenario altogether, since he couldn't miss any further important bits.
"Sorry...I almost forgot. But please...Panther, calm down so we can figure out what to do... What we can all do to make certain this doesn't happen. You know...you know I love you. You know that. And you know he's worried about you too. So don't think we aren't here to help you, that we're here to make sure your death happens. Because that's far from what we mean by this."
Another bout of silence hit, and Harry tapped the doorjamb in impatience, paying no mind that the action could possibly give away his position. He just needed to know what was next, what else he could learn.
"Okay. So, then...what do we start with?"
"Well, for starters, we get fucking drunk. That'll help. And then we come up with the most heinous and obviously not-going-to-work plans, and then laugh about it until we all pass out. Tomorrow, we'll be serious and think of what we can actually do, and then we cry about...everything. But drink now, yes."
"I'd say that's a good idea," the first male said, sounding far more defeated than Harry ever thought, dare he assume, a Slytherin ever would.
"Me too."
Now, to find out who they were.
iv.
Day 11; 1:21 am.
Nearly hitting his head on the floor, after falling over in his sleep, Harry awoke suddenly to giggling and chuckling. Damn. He'd fallen asleep. They obviously hadn't ventured out of the room yet, or he'd likely be strung up in the furthest reaches of the dungeon with them interrogating him about anything and everything he may have heard – unless it was he who they had wanted to overhear them. Hmm...
Blinking slowly, he fixed his crooked glasses and quickly surmised that no one had walked by, or he'd have been awoken and probably taken to the Headmistress's office. What luck he had tonight. Lifting himself up off the ground, Harry wasn't certain if he should go directly back to the Gryffindor Tower or not. Hermione was either worrying her knitting needles as to where her best friend was when he clearly hadn't come in for the night, or she could have simply gone to bed long before she'd expected him back in. Ron, predictably, would be fast asleep regardless of where his friend was.
In the dark silence of Hogwarts, Harry's mind buzzed with endless possibilities this recent scenario could be foreshadowing, and returned to his dormitories, trying not to get caught.
v.
Day 11; 4:16 pm.
"It couldn't have been them, Harry." Hermione shook her head lightly, glancing away. "It was probably just another one of those dreams – you know, the ones that seem so realistic... The ones you believe really happened when they actually haven't."
"But I didn't dream it, Hermione... I know I couldn't have, because...I just couldn't have. You can't honestly believe I've made the whole thing up on a dream. I woulld have known."
"I'm not saying that exactly..." Hermione muttered and then trailed off, obviously unsure, before grabbing a book from the shelf and settling back at the table with him from where she had stood previously. She let out a heavy sigh, likely because she just couldn't fathom why he was arguing with her – even after all their years together and the fact she'd been correct nearly every time. Well, he was pretty certain this time that it had been the only three Slytherins he'd ever known more than most.
Though he had seriously hoped to fall right back asleep after he'd returned to his bed, he'd been plagued with concerns and, most of all, who had been talking about Voldemort so insightfully regarding something he'd never even known existed. Knowing, very tentatively at least, that the speakers had wanted someone to hear but had wanted their names hidden, logically pointed a big arrow directly to the Slytherins. They were possibly the only ones Harry could think about that would be so hesitant for their families to know they were attempting to feed information to an outsider.
They were the only ones.
It made even further sense for it to have been Draco, Blaise, and Pansy specifically. With their close friendship and familiar voices, they fit the situation perfectly.
He hadn't wanted to assume prematurely and be entirely inaccurate when it really came down to knowing something important, like on the battlefield with Voldemort, only to be proved incorrect. So he took it up with Hermione. Who else would set him straight?
"I'm saying that... Well, it wasn't the three of them. I mean, it could have been Blaise or Pansy, but not exactly Draco. So no, the entire thing was not a dream, but thinking it was Draco too, I think, would be what you just assumed, or...thought of after you fell asleep in a dream-like...thought or something," she stammered through, still avoiding eye-contact.
"But how would you know?" Harry asked speculatively. She was clearly avoiding the reason behind knowing exactly why it couldn't be Malfoy, but there was a snag in that thought. "I know you were sleeping, because when I got back, you weren't throwing a lecture around because I'd been missing or something. Unless, of course, you decided to take the Marauder's Map to ease your worries and then fell back asleep... Bollocks," he suddenly swore, swiping an agitated hand through his mop of hair. "Why didn't I think of that when I got back? The Marauder's Map would have told me who was there!"
Hermione sighed in response, licking her lips before finally looking him in the eye. "I didn't steal your map, Harry. I really wish I had now that you seem distraught and it is certainly curious as to who was in that room, with a possible Blaise and Pansy," she added, hoping to get the point of across again. "But we can cross Draco off the list."
The silence thereafter was heavy, with Harry narrowing his eyes in her direction. Never had she kept information from him before, and never had she had any secrets he hadn't known about. Knowing that in itself made his heart hurt, because she was her own woman and it was up to her to keep things from him when and if she wanted to – but...could she be keeping something from him now? Something about Draco Malfoy, the rumoured Death Eater?
"Are you... Are you hiding something, 'Mione?" he asked as tentatively as he could. He didn't want to come off angered at her, didn't even want to pester her about her own decision, but he just needed to know.
"Oh, Harry," she sighed. "I didn't mean- That is, it's not like...anything you could call the worst. I didn't know whether I could tell you, or even Ron, at all. I thought...I thought you'd both have stopped talking to me altogether, that you'd look down on me and think I was...think I wasconsorting with the enemy or some such rubbish." And at his exasperated look, though he felt more concerned in his mind at what she was getting at, she finally explained. "I've been...tutoring Malfoy. I know- I know that I shouldn't even be talking to him, but McGonagall came to me personally and basically pleaded beyond anything that I take this position. And I couldn't just...deny her. Not the headmistress. I didn't know what to say, though, y'know – it was Malfoy, and I accepted." She put her head in her hands, defeat shrugging her shoulders downward. "I know it was a terrible thing to do to you, to Ron, but...a teacher asked..."
"...well...I think that- I think that it's okay, Hermione-"
"-and it hasn't been that bad. We've already agreed to not talk about the Dark side, the Light side, or what you're doing, or what Ron is doing, or what Voldemort is doing. Although I would have for you, had you asked me to get information-"
"-but I trust you. I know you wouldn't have- I would never ask that of you, Hermione!"
"-and the reason it couldn't even be close to being him is because we...well, we were given our own study room to use in silence, away from other students who would be curious about him and I working together, and we were there. We both met there after I was with Ginny for an hour that night, and it's entirely impossible to even think it could be him."
Harry chuckled a little at her appearance and waited for her to calm down, regain her breath, and press down the frizz that started in her hair from being so completely frazzled at having to explain her story to him. She looked as if she suspected he would never talk to her again – all over her tutoring the Malfoy git. But he wasn't that bad of a friend or had that bad of a judgment on her decisions. Instead, he reveled in knowing that Malfoy needed a tutor out of it than anything.
And then he spoke to soothe the alarming look in her eye. "I understand, Hermione. I get that McGonagall asked you and that you would say yes. Had you said no, I would have been worried about why you would say no to the headmistress."
Hermione smiled uncertainly at first, but then picked up the corners of her mouth and let out a relieved sigh at his approval. "I honestly felt so bad for the longest time. I...I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. And the way you reacted..."
"Don't worry, but I definitely can't say the same for Ron," he replied, however a little moved by the news. Not only had she been keeping this a secret, but she'd kept it in fear of his and Ron's reactions – which meant she was even more loyal to him than he could've imagined, though he had a fair idea already. "I just don't understand who it could have been, then. One voice was vaguely familiar, and I swear it was Malfoy and the other person's name started with a Bl. The last was a girl, and the only person I could think of was Parkinson..."
"I'm not sure, Harry," Hermione said weakly, reaching across to gently squeeze his shoulder. "As I said, it's rather impossible for one of them to be him."
There was a small pause in their conversation as he pondered the entire situation, and Harry looked back up at her a moment later. "Something always has to happen every year, doesn't it?"
"If it didn't, then it wouldn't be the usual Hogwarts experience," Hermione said cheekily, and they both smiled briefly.
She was right, though. It would never be Hogwarts without its chaos, and though he had actually hoped this year would go by without any further problems, the conversation he'd heard last night had been too important and insightful for him to ignore. It may even be, perhaps, an end to everything Voldemort. Perhaps.
Harry belatedly wondered if his name was on such a list, and then wondered if he'd ever be able to find out.
vi.
Day 17; 5:34 pm.
Harry hadn't been made Head Boy this year, which had been just fine with him because he definitely didn't think he would ever have enough presence of mind to worry about what rules students were breaking, or even to be a bloody role model with his past experiences. Hermione, however, had been proudly picked as Head Girl alongside a boy from Ravenclaw. He couldn't quite recall the name, but it seemed Hermione had no problem muttering under her breath every minute because of some inexcusably stupid thing he'd done.
"Bloody hell," Ron whispered, bending his head to emphasize his quiet exclamation. "How can you just go on and on about him?"
Hermione glanced up at him in annoyance, her quill stopping with her mumbling. "Because, Ronald, he's a git."
The redhead's eyebrows rose high, and Harry thought that they might just leave his forehead altogether. "So – when you and I have a row, do you go in a corner and talk to yourself about how stupid I'm being, like an absolutely maniac?"
Uh-oh. That was certainly the wrong thing to say, particularly to an already irate Hermione Granger. Her face hardened and her cheeks turned a bright red, because no matter how righteous she could be at times, she was also equally embarrassed. "I don't have to be friends with him, Ron, so being irritated with him is probable. With you...well, believe it or not, I respect you, and just because you make some horrible decisions on what to say to people or to me for that matter, I'll still be your friend. So no, I do not go into a corner and rant about how bloody stupid you can be!" She turned to Harry, more distraught than before, and started correcting Ron on his faults. "I'll be in the library, Harry, so you can find me there if you need me. As for you," she continued, turning back to Ron, "once you realize I'm not a maniac and I'm here to be your friend, come find me."
With that, she grabbed her books and proceeded out of the common room, two sets of eyes on her retreating form. "Good going, Ron," said Harry. "You're really great at pepping her up, that's for sure."
When he turned, Ron was holding his head in his hands and slowly banging his forehead upon the table. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle – and then another at just how ridiculous Ron looked right then.
"It's not funny, Harry," Ron whined, his voice cracking from emotion.
Harry could only let out another long laugh.
vii.
Day 25; 11:55 pm.
"I love you," Harry whispered into her shoulder, teasing her fingers with his own as his other arm tightened around her waist. Ginny cuddled further into his heat until they were comfortably close together, body pressed to body just like he always yearned to be.
Harry could tell she was smiling from the dimple he spotted on the side of her cheek, and he followed from her shoulder to that dimple before settling his lips against her mouth in a soft kiss. "I'm worried about Ron," she gently spoke, pressing her palm into his neck to keep his face close to hers. "He's...not all there. He's too occupied thinking he should be worrying about Voldemort, but he lets Hermione into his thoughts too much for him to handle. He thinks he shouldn't, so he berates himself, and...it's just really hard on him. Not to mention Hermione, even... She's hiding something, Harry, and I'm sorry I didn't bring it up before, and I didn't really want you to have to think of that as well, but she's never around anymore – and that's so unlike her it's ridiculous."
He nodded sadly, pressing his thumb into her cheek as he watched the first tear roll its way down. He hated that life came to this, that Ginny was often very miserable about their dangerous future, and that it was he who had ultimately started the emotions. It was worse for her because she was stuck on the sidelines, waiting for something to happen or just simply waiting. He knew this, didn't like that being associated with him made it ten times worse, but was slightly consoled because even if they weren't together, she'd still be connected by Ron.
Truth was he really didn't havethe drive to keep going without her, would be even worse if he had to watch Ron lose his wits and Hermione becoming friends with a Slytherin. Admittedly, he wasn't sure how close they were, but knowing Hermione and the way her unique and genuine personality touched people, they were probably on better terms than she and Ron were currently.
"They'll be fine," he whispered, finally, bending his head to rest against hers. "Everything with be fine." Hopefully.
viii.
Day 32; 7:18 pm.
Harry had ventured out of the common room to look for Hermione twenty minutes earlier, nearly certain she would be in the library, because well, when wasn't she? But she wasn't, though –surprise, surprise – so he'd gone wandering along the corridors just in case he ran into her on her way to a different location or something. On the other hand, perhaps he'd find the study room she'd mentioned a couple weeks previous; the one she used with Malfoy. It wasn't really imperative that he find her this very second, but he felt like he'd fallen behind on researching Voldemort, and summarily everything he'd learned, since he'd found out about Voldemort's List. He and Hermione would both have to spend a day or two in the library to make up for it.
Harry hadn't known where she was, mostly due to another row Ron had not fixed between them. It seemed to have gotten out of control since he'd commented on her dislike for the Head Boy, who Harry finally found out was John Hoike. They were fighting more than they were talking, which Harry always hated to see, especially since he rarely saw either of them all that much whenever this happened-
"What do you mean you didn't study?"
"Exactly what I said, Granger. Must I repeat it for you?"
Harry's head snapped in the direction of the approaching voices – whether he was walking closer or they were coming toward him, he wasn't sure – thinking quickly that it had to have been Malfoy in that room, regardless of Hermione adamantly telling him it couldn't have been. He turned around automatically, walking leisurely in the opposite direction of where they seemed to be. Harry didn't want to violate Hermione's privacy but, as always, his curiosity overruled that, and he decided on a compromise for something in between – walking away from them, but slowly, so he could make certain that the voice had been the one in the room.
"But...you have an examination tomorrow, Malfoy."
"I don't bloody care that I have an exam tomorrow. We've been revising all fucking week. I'll do fine, okay?" Malfoy's voice was angry and solid, a lot less whiny than what he even remembered from third-year. He realized, suddenly, that Malfoy was the not the person he remembered – the coward, the one crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. This one remained silent, this one didn't go out of his way to insult people, and this one spoke unnaturally angrily and then softly, as if he cared, to his best friend...
It seemed this Malfoy had a backbone, which made Harry a little hesitant because Draco Malfoy with a backbone was not someone he'd ever want to deal with. Then he wondered how Hermione had ever been able to deal with the git so long and not crack, ranting about his terrible behavior or something.
Harry could virtually see the gaze Hermione was giving him at the moment, but only silence met his hears when he expected to hear Hermione's indignant reply, and he guessed he was already out of earshot. He was uncertain, still, of what to think of Hermione's tutorship with Malfoy – though he understood why she'd felt compelled to take it and then decide not to tell him or Ron. It was strange,was all. Never had he thought they'd be civil, at the very least, let alone on frequent speaking terms.
War changes people. He loathed thinking it, knowing so many other people had already gone through that change, or worse ended up like Sirius, but it was just a part of it and nothing he could do would change that now. A reality he obviously didn't like, but worse than thinking about it would wallowing for such a reason. He would never be caught doing that.
Following the corridors, he finally made it up to the Gryffindor common room. "Fancy some Quidditch?" he asked Ron upon spotting him, to which he agreed with a grin and got up off the sofa. Quidditch was always something he could turn to when particularly pensive or stressed, when that didn't include Ginny accompanying him to the lake, and something it seemed he played it nearly as often as he ate.
He made eye contact with his redhead on his way out, smiling slowly so she knew he was all right for the moment – they could always talk later. She got the message immediately, nodded her assent, and went back to talking to Lavender Brown. That's mostly why he loved Ginny as much as he did – she was the most understanding person in his life, and that was, basically, what he needed throughout the situation he was going through. It was all he could hope for, and he was definitely grateful of such a privilege.
"So when are you going to fix things with Hermione, Ron?" he asked on the way out, a smile upon his face because he knew that Ron hated when he brought up their relationship. It was all because he also knew Ron fancied her, and that he was always around when Ron royally fucked it up.
He just wondered when they would finally get together. They deserved at least that much.
So? Was that a good start? Better than the last one? Tell me if you guys liked it or not! :)