HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD
Chapter seven
It was the middle of the afternoon when Mrs Weasley declared that Harry was now free of the bowl of Dittany. It then took Harry several minutes to find exactly where Ron had been hiding. His red-haired friend had not been back to the kitchen since Ginny and Percy's departure, and Harry suspected Hermione's letter to be the cause of Ron's absence.
"There you are," said Harry as he pushed open the door to Ron's room.
Ron was lazily sitting on top of his bed, flipping through the pages of a thick book with a black cover.
"Hermione said to keep a close watch on the box when she left," explained Ron matter-of-factly. He then turned a page a little aggressively and let out a deep sigh after which he added: "She also says that she wants us to present her with a list of all the places where we could hide your souvenirs."
The tone of annoyance was unmistakable. Harry wasn't sure if he should recoil to the kitchen and to the bowl of Dittany, or if he should smile and be glad that Ron and Hermione's dating had not altered their friendship. Their constant bickering ought to be a sign that their relationship was back to a normal level.
"She's giving us homework, huh?" said Harry sympathetically. "I bet she's just trying to keep us busy."
Ron almost ripped off another page of the book.
"She's got one or two things to learn about 'time off'," he mumbled under his breath.
Then he dropped a piece of parchment on Harry's lap.
"That's all I've got. What do you think?"
Harry scanned through Ron's list briefly. His friend had written down the following:
Godric's Hollow (which tomb?)
Gringotts (which vault?)
Hogwarts (Room of Requirement? Chamber of Secrets?)
Ministry of Magic (Department of Mysteries?)
Grimmauld Place (too obvious)
Shell Cottage (too obvious)
Hagrid's Hut (too dangerous)
"It's not a bad list," said Harry, trying not to sound too surprised. "It's more or less what I had in mind."
Ron was still rummaging through the thick black book.
"They're all too obvious," he said grimly. "They're all places where we've gone to recently. Hermione says 'let's go some place we've never been too'."
As he said this, Ron pointed his finger at a long scroll of parchment containing Hermione's thin hand-writing. Harry could see the exact sentence that Ron had just quoted followed by several exclamation points. Hermione had evidently given her instructions in code in the letter intended to Ron. Harry could not help but marvel at her ease when dealing with secret matters.
"'Some place we've never been to'," repeated Harry, a little confounded. "I was thinking of something a little more meaningful. It's got to be a hiding place that we can keep an eye on, which means that it has to be at least familiar. I don't want to choose a place at random."
"Don't ask me," replied Ron a little aggressively. "I'm just good for doing research."
Ron closed the book with a loud snap and picked up another one that was lying besides him along with a handful of candy wrappers and several other books.
"What are you researching on?" Harry inquired. He was beginning to think that the source of Ron's frustration was not the small list that Harry was holding.
As an answer, Ron pointed at another paragraph of Hermione's letter.
By the way, my parents want to know everything about "Destina Nobilis". It's a fascinating story, very ancient, but I can't seem to recall all the details and I want to do it justice. I wonder if I could ask you to sum it up for me and send it by owl as soon as you can. I'm sure I've read it in one of the books I left at your house. My parents would really appreciate it. Ask Harry to help you. I'm sure he won't mind.
"What's Destina Nobilis?" asked Harry as he was reading the paragraph again. "I've never heard that expression before. Is it a spell?"
"Beats me," snapped Ron. "I've been looking through her books for hours."
"Well I can help you out now," said Harry half-heartedly, picking up a book at random. "It's got to be in one of them if Hermione says so."
"That one is in Runes, mate," Ron cut in.
Harry chose another book, a large red one, and started to flip through its pages just as annoyingly as Ron was. This was hardly what he had had in mind to do for the remaining of the day. He had been looking forward to a little peace and quiet with Ginny. But since she was not around, he wanted to take time off simply to rest. He didn't feel like putting his brain to work. He was still tired and sore, and now he was concerned about the mark on his chest, and that was all the worries that he felt capable to endure at the moment. Whatever Hermione had in mind, he was sure that it could wait until her return. In any case, making the list of hiding places for the Stone and the Wand seemed much more important then researching about a story that Hermione couldn't recall in detail. And Harry was not sure that he could add anything to the list that Ron had already written down.
After a full hour of flipping through more books, a part of Harry's brain was starting to think that Hermione might have given them a job to do just to keep them from wandering around.
"Another five minutes of this pointless searching and I'm going to drop dead of boredom," said Ron, yawning loudly.
"When is she coming back, anyway?" asked Harry, stretching his arms over his head.
"I don't know exactly. She says that she wants to spend a little more time with her parents. She wants to make sure that she reversed the Memory Spell properly."
"It must have been tough for her," said Harry after some thought.
Ron's expression changed all of a sudden to one of complete bewilderment.
"Tough is hardly the word I would use, mate," said Ron, staring at him almost accusingly. "It tore her apart what she had to do to her parents to protect them. It was more than just tough. It hurt her to the point where she couldn't even cry about it anymore. She only pretended to be alright because we needed her to be."
"I never thought…" Harry began to say. He was unexpectedly feeling very guilty.
"Of course you didn't," Ron cut in. "It's not your fault, mate. You haven't got parents. But Hermione had to shot her mom and dad out of her life for an entire year. And she was worried that she might have performed the Memory Charm wrong. They didn't even recognise her when she went back. They called her a freak when she told them who and what she was. It took her hours to put them right. There was always a chance that they might end up like Lockhart if she failed. She's convinced that there will be side-effects and that's why she doesn't know when she'll be back."
Harry was speechless. He had never thought about Hermione's action from that perspective. He had been so absorbed by their mission that he had not even noticed if it was affecting her. She must have been really miserable, and yet she never showed it. Had Ron seen that she was troubled? Had he been able to comfort her?
Suddenly, Harry felt like a very lame friend.
"Don't take it like that, mate," said Ron understandingly. "Hermione knew what and was doing and why. She wanted to help and she was ready to do whatever was necessary. It was either that or watching Voldemort take over our world."
But all that Harry could think of was how many times he had almost lost both Ron and Hermione in the course of the previous year.
"I didn't really think about how much you two were putting on the line."
"Of course you did, mate. It's the family part that's hard for you to understand. It's only normal."
There was silence for a while.
"I do appreciate what you and Hermione…"
"Cut it out, Harry!" Ron burst out, throwing a handful of candy wrappers at Harry's face. "We know that. You don't have to get all soft on me."
They laughed a great deal after that.
Nevertheless, after a half-hour of joking with Ron, Harry returned to the pile of books and spent the remaining of the afternoon pondering about how he had misunderstood Hermione, how he was missing Ginny, and why he was not allowed some peace and quiet at last. On top of all, his body was showing signs of weariness bordering on exhaustion, but he could not get his brain to stop thinking long enough to fall asleep. Ron's mood went from good to bad as there was obviously no mention of Destina Nobilis in any of the books that Hermione had left behind.
The high point of Harry's day was therefore Ginny's return from the other funeral. Dinner was almost ready to be served when she walked in with Percy who was carrying a large assortment of flowers and letters. Ginny instantly dropped her black cloak on the back of a chair, came forward to where Harry was standing, wrapped both her arms around Harry's neck, and kissed him gently on the lips. There were no tears in her kiss. Her eyes were bright with sunlight. There was a smell of lavender all around her.
"How did it go?" Harry said as she was sitting down besides him at the dinner table.
"Well, as you can imagine, lots of crying, lots of talking. Luna says 'hi', by the way."
Harry smiled as the image of Luna Lovegood popped into his mind.
"Was she wearing a cork necklace?"
"The so-called amulet? Yeah. She wasn't entirely back to her usual self, though," uttered Ginny with a side glance at her parents who were standing by the kitchen counter.
"What's wrong with her?" asked Harry, intrigued.
"Slughorn's been to her house," whispered Ginny with a tone that suggested once again how deeply she did not trust the Potion Master. "She's convinced that he's done something to her dad."
"I'm sure that Professor Slughorn had a perfectly good reason to visit Luna's father," snorted Percy loud enough so that anyone could hear. "Xeno Lovegood seems very keen on involving Mr Slughorn in every conspiracy theory he can think of."
"With good reasons," Ginny snapped back. "You don't know how Slughorn was at Hogwarts last year, Perce. He's a sneaky little…"
"Ginny Weasley!" said Mrs Weasley warningly. "You will keep a decent conversation at the dinner table."
Ginny leaned back into her chair with her arms crossed, and Percy went back to opening the stack of letters that he had came in with.
"What was Slughorn like last year?" whispered Harry to Ginny's ear and as discreetly as he could.
"He was asking a lot of questions, all the time. He wanted to know about Dumbledore and you. And when he realised that we wouldn't tell him anything, he tried to get into Dumbledore's Pensive."
Harry dropped his fork into his plate in surprise. The words were ringing in his ears. Dumbledore's Pensive. Slughorn had tried to get into it. But why? What purpose did he have? He had provided the memory about Tom Riddle and the Horcruxes. He must have guessed what Dumbledore was up to and that he, Harry, was involved. Why, then, try to get into the Pensive?
"I knew you'd find that interesting," uttered Ginny with a half-smile.
Harry would have liked to know the whole story in details, but another glare from Mrs Weasley in his and Ginny's direction persuaded him that the topic was not suitable for the dinner table.
Later on that same evening, Harry and Ginny were sitting under the starry night sky, wrapped together in a woollen blanket. Ron had gone back to his bedroom to keep watch on the souvenir box. He seemed to have understood that Harry wanted to spend some time with Ginny. It was simply a beautiful night. And it was even more enjoyable given the fact that Harry could sit in the open and not worry about Death Eaters dropping in on them. Of course, there had been the attack in the Dark Forest, but he was not going to worry about that now. At the present moment, he was sitting comfortably in the grass, Ginny's fingers were intertwined in his, and there was nothing else in the whole world. They had spoken very little since dinner, not because they had nothing to say, but because it did not seem necessary to say anything. They had not even returned to the topic of Slughorn, but Harry was forced to remember Mrs Weasley's many glares in Ginny's direction during the course of a single day. It seemed highly unusual for Mrs Weasley and her daughter to be in conflict.
"What's going on between you and your mom?" asked Harry as he was stroking Ginny's hair.
She seemed to hesitate. Harry could not see her face since she was staring into the distance. She shivered a little and Harry pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders, suddenly wishing he had not asked that question.
"They think it's just an infatuation," she said blankly.
"What? What do you mean? Who says that?"
"My parents," replied Ginny.
There was disappointment in her voice. Harry was only beginning to understand what she was talking about.
"You and me, you mean? They don't think it will last?"
He hadn't given much thought about it himself, so it seemed highly unlikely that Ginny's parents had already had this conversation with her.
"They think it's convenient," she added, with a tone of disgust in her voice.
Then Harry remembered what George had said. My sister likes you because you're Ron's best friend.
"But that doesn't make any sense," said Harry, completely bewildered. "They know you better than that."
"I'm not sure they know me that well," she admitted. "If they did, they wouldn't have been talking behind my back."
"Then how did you find out?"
"Dear old Fleur told me. Can you believe that I have to rely on Phlegm for this kind of information? Anyway, they're convinced that it's just a passing thing, you and I. They don't think that it will last. They think that I'm going to ditch you as soon as I realise that we're like brother and sister."
Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing. Weren't parents supposed to understand their children better than anyone else? How could they be so wrong about Ginny?
"And then I'll date Neville, or Viktor Krum, or maybe Martin Clearwater. The guy invites me to his father's funeral and all of a sudden everyone thinks that there's more to it."
Her voice sounded very annoyed, but Harry suspected that it might be to hide how hurt she was.
"What about me, though?" he said, stroking her hair again, trying to be as comforting as he could. "Does anyone think I'm with you because it's convenient?"
She turned around suddenly and Harry was compelled to look into her starry eyes.
"No, you are perfect," she said, half-smiling.
"No, I'm not," said Harry, trying to look away.
"Yes, you are," Ginny insisted. "And I'm the mean girl who's going to break your heart."
Everything about her tone was telling him that she was joking. But Harry could not help but think about all the facts that he was keeping from her. She did not know about the Horcruxes, about the piece of Voldemort's soul that had been inside him, about the Deathly Hallows now lying under Ron's bed, about the black mark on his chest that was now throbbing dully against his lungs. He felt less than perfect. Ginny was perfect. She was everything to him. He had not been afraid to loose her before like he was afraid now.
"You're not mean," he finally managed to say. "And you're more than a sister to me."
"I know," she said, holding his face between her warm hands.
Then she kissed him passionately in such a way that Harry forgot what they had been talking about.