A/N: Hey, so after Christmas, here's another chapter. I'm sorry it took so long, but I simply didn't have time in between the holidays, I was abroad and then work and exams at school came. Next chapter won't take so long ;) I am also working on a new chapter of Of Broken Souls.
Now, I hope you enjoy this!
Noble Intentions
Chapter Three
The next couple of days didn't bring anything new, to the majority of the student population, at least. The castle was still full of gossip and Harry felt like he might snap any moment. His head hurt and the amount of the Pepper Up potion he had consumed bordered on being dangerous, he was sure. He hadn't managed to sleep almost at all during the previous nights, mostly because he had spent a couple of hours of each of them with Malfoy at the Hospital Wing and when he had been physically in his bed, his mind had been downstairs with the blond Slytherin anyway. He didn't know why he kept going there, both in the actual and mental way, but he was telling himself that he was simply curious (about what exactly he wasn't sure), at first, at least. The truth was, his life wasn't the same without Malfoy and it felt oddly empty. Harry expected a piercing glare and a sneer every time he looked towards the Slytherin table or a nasty remark whenever he entered the Potion classroom and when the only thing starring back at him was an empty space between Crabbe and Goyle, it was like getting punched. He was missing Malfoy and although it sounded highly unlikely, Harry had to admit that this development had probably been inevitable. Malfoy had been a part of his life since the first day he'd known about the wizarding world and, even though Harry had strongly disliked the Slytherin, he had wished to see the boy more than once during the first summer holidays, if only to remind himself that the previous year hadn't been a sick joke his own mind had been playing on him. Many things had changed since then, but Malfoy had never failed to be nearby to laugh at Harry, to make his blood boil, to make him feel alive. It wasn't as though Harry liked him any more than he had all those years ago, but he still missed him in a weird way. He knew that if he voiced these thoughts to anyone, they would advise him to visit he Janus Thickey Ward immediately and the first time Harry'd admitted it to himself, he had thought he would do just that. But the more he tried to think about how impossible it had been for him to actually miss Malfoy, the more real it felt and Harry was getting desperate.
Malfoy's condition didn't show any improvement. When Harry had visited him the previous night, he had merely lain in his white-clothed bed and hadn't moved one inch, his chin firmly pointed towards the ceiling. Beside that, only Malfoy's blond hair and his unhealthy white skin had indicated who their owner had been. However, no one seemed to be particularly bothered by that, Madame Pomfrey being the only exception. Harry was getting annoyed by the development. It was a third incident in a row during that year which deserved a proper investigation, or at least a bit of concern, but nothing of that kind was happening and it didn't seem it would in the near future, either. Dumbledore kept being hidden in his office and acted as if nothing had happened. Harry felt something was going on but he couldn't put his finger on it and it irked him. He had tried to talk to Dumbledore himself about it one morning, but the Headmaster had merely nodded his head, saying that he had been sorry for the boy, but there had been nothing he could have done about it and pointing out to Harry that if he hadn't left then, he would have been late for his morning classes. Harry had been annoyed by that response, it had felt like his fifth year again and he hadn't liked it one bit. He felt he should open the notebook as soon as he could. He hated being with his hands tied and that was exactly how it felt, since no matter how hard he tried, the damn thing didn't loosen one bit.
It was two days later when he finally decided to ask Hermione for help. It was Saturday late morning and they sat in the Common Room, revising for the exams again, but he couldn't keep his mind on the subject. He knew that his future depended on his score, but it wasn't the NEWTs they were preparing for, after all, and he had managed with even less knowledge than he had by then in previous years, anyway.
"Harry, are you paying any attention to what I'm saying?" Hermione asked exasperatedly after he had repeated the same question for the third time in fifteen minutes.
"Yeah, sorry," he said, "got a bit distracted, I guess," he admitted and tried to focus on the topic Hermione was going through with him again. No matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes open and his mind present, it didn't work, so after a couple of minutes, he gave in to the urge to relax a bit.
"I don't think I can stuff more of this shit into my head, sorry. I'm going to rest for a bit," he announced, closed his book resolutely and put all the parchments spread all over the table to one pile before making himself comfortable on the sofa and closing his eyes. Hermione sent him an ugly look, clearly saying what she thought about his attitude, but she kept silent and revising her notes, muttering something under her breath. Harry watched her for a while, before making up his mind. She was his only chance.
"'Mione, if you wanted to keep something locked, I mean really locked so no one could open it with Alohomora or something that simple, what would you choose?" he asked her as casually as he could, letting his head fall back on the headrest so she couldn't see his face.
"It would depend on what exactly I'd want to keep locked, of course," she answered without looking up from her notes. "Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering about the Prince's book," he lied, knowing that this was a dangerous path. However, since he hadn't come up with anything better, he just went with it. Hermione looked up at him immediately, or so he thought, because he could feel her piercing gaze on himself.
"Harry, don't you tell me that you still have that vile thing? After what happened to Malfoy!" Her voice was suddenly much louder than it had been seconds ago. "I thought you've left it in the Room of Requirement, haven't you?" she asked fiercely.
"Of course I have, but I thought that maybe it wasn't as clever as it seemed. I mean, what if someone actually stumbled upon it in the future? Shouldn't we have locked it so no one could open it?" he asked, slightly ashamed for lying so blatantly in her face, and pointedly continued glaring at the ceiling to avoid her eyes.
"I didn't give this much thought, actually," she answered, sounding relieved but also a bit intrigued. "What exactly do you have in mind?" The sound of her book being put on the table was a clear sign that her attention had been caught.
"I don't know, if I did, I wouldn't have asked you, would I?" He at last looked at her. She was now turned in his direction, playing absent-mindedly with a quill without noticing that tip of her fingers were stained with the ink. "I would probably use some kind of a lock or something to keep the book together, though," he offered.
"Well, I have to admit that most of the spells I know are commonly used. But I can do some research after the exams, okay? I'm sure there will be plenty of such spells." Hermione looked as if she couldn't wait for going back to library and getting her hands dusty from all the old tomes which hadn't been touched in the last fifty years. Harry wished she would have shown such an avid interest in everything he'd told her that year, included Malfoy's suspicious behaviour. He also wanted to tell her that they couldn't afford to wait, because someone could find the book every minute, but was stopped by Ron, who had chosen the moment to return to the Common Room from his daily dose of flying with their school mates.
"What are you talking about, guys?" Ron asked without preamble and threw himself on the couch next to Harry.
"Nothing you will need for your exams, Ronald," Hermione retorted sharply. She was still peeved at him for refusing her offer to create a colourful timetable for his revising. Harry had planned to do the same, but after he had seen how upset Hermione had been, he had decided to let her create the damn thing.
"Oh, really? In that case, let me join you," Ron replied, the sarcastic tone clearly saying that he didn't give a damn what she thought about his reluctance to stick his nose into a book (except Quidditch Through The Ages, which didn't make Hermione happy in the slightest). Harry knew that with this kind of conversation he would have gotten old before getting some answers or a solution to his problem.
"I was only telling Hermione that I think we should secure the Prince's book so no one could open it," he explained to Ron briefly.
Ron scowled. "I thought it was lost in the Room of Requirement, wasn't it?"
"Of course it was, but what if someone found it? I have found it once, after all, and we don't know anything about the book, only that it is full of nasty curses," Harry told him and without waiting for his reply, continued, "So I thought that maybe we could put some kind of charmed lock on it so it wouldn't be possible to open it."
Ron looked thoughtful for a moment. "It's a good idea, Harry, but we would have to use some other way to keep it closed, locks are utterly useless. If someone wanted to open it, I am sure they would find a way."
Harry almost choked on his breath. "What do you mean, about locks being useless?" he asked, noticing Hermione watching Ron, obviously waiting for an explanation, too.
"Well, of course, if the lock is charmed, it's more difficult to get inside without having the key, since there is about a million possible counter-spells you could use. But the thing is, you don't actually need a counter-spell to open it. Of course, it also depends on the spell, but only a couple of them are not possible to overcome," Ron explained. "What, I do know some things," he remarked when he noticed the expressions on both of his best friends' faces. Hermione was gaping at him unashamedly and Harry had to admit that his jaw might have loosened slightly, too. His heart was beating faster now and he didn't dare to hope he could be so lucky and actually get some advise, and from Ron, of all people.
"But how would you open it?" Harry asked, trying to sound less excited than he actually felt.
"I wouldn't come up with the idea myself, but dad did. You know mum and how she hates his experiments with Muggle stuff? Well, once she got really angry since he had almost managed to blow up our barn, so she took a big lock and used all the spells she knew to keep it locked. I know that, because I watched the whole scene." Ron evidently enjoyed being the centre of attention, particularly because of Hermione, of course. He sent her preening looks now and then. Harry, however, didn't notice any of that, since his eyes were hanging on Ron's lips. "Of course, it took him five minutes to get in the barn again, not that mom has ever found out. But he told Fred and George and they told me then. "
"Yeah, nice story, but how did he do it?" Hermione was getting anxious as well, it seemed.
"Simply. With a piece of an old wire," Ron announced as if it explained why the Earth was round and Harry could have kissed him right there and then, hadn't Ron been his best friend. Male best friend. He stared at the redhead for a couple of seconds before jumping to his feet.
"Where are you going, mate?" Ron asked, obviously surprised by Harry's reaction.
"Oh, just remembered I've left something in the lockers," Harry mumbled, hurrying to the portrait hole. "We'll discuss it later, okay? And thanks for the input," he smiled before turning his back on both of his best friends.
"And I thought, the two of you of all people would have known such a cheap Muggle trick," he could hear Ron mumble before the portrait closed behind him.
