Harry Potter and the Mudblood Liaison
Look Sharp Tom
A/N: Thank you to the wonderful, wonderful people who reviewed! You guys are awesome! To answer a quick question, yes, it is my intention to continue this into and through the events of Deathly Hallows and maybe even a little beyond. This chapter may contain dialogue directly from Half-Blood Prince and is the property of J.K. Rowling, as is most everything else in this story. Thank you for reading, and please, as always, be sure to review (it'll help me get the next chapter out faster). Now sit back and enjoy.
It was late in the afternoon, a few days after New Years, when Harry and Hermione made their way to the Granger's fireplace. Mrs. Granger was near tears and Mr. Granger didn't look much better, but Hermione's patient air with her parents led Harry to believe that this was a normal going-away occurrence.
"Do be careful," Emma cried, giving her daughter a ferocious hug. Hermione awkwardly patted her mother's back in an effort to comfort her.
"I trust you'll keep an eye on Hermione?" Dan whispered to Harry as they shook hands.
Harry looked Mr. Granger in the eye and said truthfully, "It's usually the other way around sir, but I'll try."
Dan clapped Harry on the shoulder with a fatherly grin and mumbled, "Good man…" before switching places with his wife.
Emma scoffed at Harry's proffered hand and gave him a hug much like the one Hermione had received. Harry was only briefly startled and then found himself hugging back, glad to be so accepted by such a wonderful mother.
Once she had pulled away and gotten a hold of herself, Emma told Harry, "It was so nice meeting you, Harry dear. You're welcome back anytime you like."
Harry thanked her and then Hermione and he scooped up their trunks and respective pet carriers.
Emma, her tears falling freely once more, ran to her daughter and Crookshanks to give them both a kiss on the cheek. Crookshanks batted gently at her head as she pulled away using his paw. She gave him one last affectionate pat and then whispered something to her daughter.
Hermione nodded solemnly and then calling the Headmaster's office, she disappeared in a burst of green flame. Dan and Emma jumped in surprise at the blaze, but quickly regained themselves and were able to call their good-byes to Harry as he too vanished in the fireplace. The last thing he saw before landing painfully on his face was Emma's tearful chocolate-brown eyes and her watery smile.
Collecting himself and his belongings from the floor -including a very disgruntled Hedwig- Harry heard Dumbledore say softly, "I see you did not envision my office as I had previously suggested, perhaps next time…"
Harry spun around to see that Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, an amused look on his wizened old face. Fawkes was staring down imperiously from his perch behind Dumbledore, his eyes fixed unblinking at Hedwig.
Hedwig hooted shyly up at the handsome Phoenix, but Fawkes looked away, seemingly disgusted that a lowly owl should try to converse with him.
Hermione gave Hedwig a sympathetic look before turning to Dumbledore to thank him once more.
"Of course, Miss Granger. It was my pleasure," addressing Harry, Dumbledore said, "Let us have our next lesson tomorrow evening, shall we?"
"Sounds good to me sir."
As Harry and Hermione were passing McGonagall's office, Ron and Ginny stepped out, carrying all of their belongings as well. Arnold the Pigmy Puff and Pigwidgeon, at seeing Crookshanks, began to shuffle uncomfortably in their cages. Crookshanks just sat on his fluffy orange tail and licked his lips.
Ginny gave both Harry and Hermione a welcoming smile, her eyes coming to rest on Harry. But Ron only gave a curt nod before tromping off to the Gryffindor tower, ignoring Hermione completely, Pig's relieved hoots harmonizing with Ron's doleful footsteps as he vanished from view down the corridor.
"Sorry about him," Ginny apologized. "He'll come around eventually, he just needs to get used to the idea of the two of you together."
Harry grimaced. Enough was enough! Looking at Ginny before him, he knew he had to tell her. "Look Ginny, about Hermione and I, we-"
"Broke up over the holidays," Hermione interjected quickly, cutting him off.
"Oh…" was all Ginny had to say. Harry searched her face very thoroughly, for any signs of excitement or relief, and was thrilled to spot a tiny trace of both.
Hermione went on, her voice masked in a cheerful tone, "Yea, Harry thought it was better if we were just friends, and I agreed." Harry tore his eyes away from Ginny and glanced at his friend. She had a kind of sad smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. He was astonished at how talented an actress she had become –she was playing their break up perfectly!
Later, after Ginny had reluctantly run off to find Dean, Harry squeezed Hermione's shoulder and said quietly, "You really are the best Hermione, thank you." She gave him a small grin, then said that she really had to get to bed and ran off to the girl's dorms. Harry's eyes followed her in confusion. What'd he say?
By lunch the next day, news of the famous pairs 'break up' had circulated enough to the point where Harry was once again having to fend off Romilda and her groupies.
He had tried to find Hermione that morning to talk about the apparition lessons with her –there had been a sign posted in the commons- but when he'd asked Lavender, who had apparently been looking for Ron herself, she'd said that Hermione had already gone to breakfast.
He didn't find her in the Great Hall either. It wasn't until Charms that day, when Harry first spotted Hermione.
She was seated beside Neville instead of her normal seat beside Harry. She looked up when he entered, and returned his wave, but hadn't made any other acknowledgement of his existence.
Sitting at the Gryffindor table, idly stirring his bubbling amber soup, Harry couldn't help but wonder what he possibly could have done to make Hermione ignore him. He finished his meal and watched impassively as the plate disappeared. He thought of the house elves, probably scrubbing it as he got up from the table, and came to the decision that he would confront her before going to his lesson with the Headmaster that evening.
He found her, about fifteen minutes before eight, sitting by herself, curled up in front of the Gryffindor fireplace with the book, Dueling Tactics for the Advanced Witch or Wizard resting comfortably across her lap. Crookshanks was stretched luxuriously in front of the fire, near the base of the couch, his purring echoing throughout the crowded commons.
Harry took the seat beside her and cleared his throat. She grudgingly marked her place and slowly put the book down to look up at him. "Yes?" she asked dutifully, albeit impatient.
Harry, completely thrown by her strange behavior, began tentatively, "Is something the matter Hermione? I couldn't help but notice you've been avoiding me today…"
"You're not a daft prick, Harry," Hermione said crossly, rolling her eyes. "Surely you realize that it would seem a bit suspicious if, after just breaking up, we were to spend all our time together as usual?"
"Oh. Yea…well, it's not like we're not friends anymore, everyone will think it's just like old times again…a failed experiment on our parts."
"A failed experiment!" Hermione hissed, her eyebrows knitting together in anger. "Is that what it was to you?"
"No! I didn't mean it like that! That's just what other people will think."
Hermione wouldn't budge. "What do you think?"
Harry swallowed. "About what?" he asked innocently.
"You know very well what!"
Harry sighed. "I think it was a terrible idea Hermione, probably a first for you."
Her jaw dropped. "WHAT!?"
"Pretending to date me to make Ron jealous? –Not one of your better ideas."
"Oh, you're one to talk!" Hermione scoffed. "You only did it to make Ginny jealous."
"And I feel really bad about that."
"You think I don't regret my actions?"
"I'm not sure what you're thinking…that's why I came over here."
Hermione gave a sigh and leaned her head back. "I think…" she finally said, speaking softly, "That whatever Malfoy is onto, is big… and we need to figure it out quickly. All these… mundane matters- these intricacies of our hormones and whatnot- are getting in that way! They're impeding any progress you could be making towards finally defeating Voldemort, …and that scares me." She turned her head to him, her expression poignant. "I don't want to be one of those girls, Harry –the kind like Lavender and Parvati who spend all their time gossiping about boys and doing their hair- I want to make a difference!" She held up the dueling book she'd been reading. "I want to be right beside you when you face him, and I want everyone to know that they'd have to go through me first before even thinking about hurting you." She swallowed and went on, her voice cracking slightly as she fought her tears, "And here we are, sitting in front of the fire, worried about what others will think and if Ron will still have me…"
Harry, his own eyes a little watery, pulled her to him. They sat there on the couch in front of the crackling fire, clinging to each other, like the desperate hug of two people who know exactly the level of their friendship and the danger of their futures.
It wasn't until they had both gotten a grip on their emotions that the two pulled away.
Harry grinned a little sheepishly and said, "Well, at least I don't have to worry about Ron wanting me -good luck with that." Hermione chuckled and Harry soon joined her, their laughter growing in intensity, both relieved to do so. Harry soon noticed the time and stood up. "I've got to go to my lesson, but don't go anywhere –I'll tell you about it when I get back."
"Thanks."
"Sure. And maybe…maybe I can talk to Dumbledore about us getting more lessons. From the Order perhaps."
"Mrs. Weasley would hate the idea."
"Yea, but as much as I love her, and I'm sure you do as well, it's not really up to her, is it?"
The lamps in Dumbledore's office were lit, the portraits of previous headmasters were snoring gently in their frames, and the Pensieve was ready upon the desk once more. Dumbledore's hands lay on either side of it, the right one as blackened and burnt-looking as ever. It did not seem to have healed at all and Harry wondered, for perhaps the hundredth time, what had caused such a distinctive injury, but did not ask; Dumbledore had said the truth would be revealed in due time. In the mean while, Harry was more preoccupied by his discussion with Hermione, but before he could say anything about furthering his lessons, Dumbledore spoke.
"Hello Harry. I felt it imprudent to discuss your break in front of Miss Granger, but how did you find it? I hear you met the Minister of Magic…"
"Yes," said Harry. "He's not particularly happy with me. But besides his impromptu visit, I really liked Hermione's parents."
"I'm pleased to hear that. Minerva spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Granger before Hermione ever came to Hogwarts and she said they were lovely people. In regards to the Minister, no," sighed Dumbledore, "He is not very happy with me either. Within hours of Scrimgeour's appointment we met and he demanded that I arrange a meeting with you."
"So that's why you argued!" Harry blurted out. "It was in the Daily Prophet."
"The Prophet is bound to report the truth occasionally. We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, Harry, but battle on."
Harry grinned. "So they still don't know where you go?" he asked, hoping for more information on this intriguing subject, but Dumbledore merely smiled over the top of his half-moon spectacles.
"No, they don't, and the time is not quite right for you to know either. Now, I suggest we press on, unless there's anything else-?"
"There is, actually, sir," said Harry. "I trust Lupin told you what Hermione and I overheard about Malfoy and Snape?"
"Professor Snape, Harry, and yes he has. I thank you for reporting it to the Order, but I suggest that you put it out of your mind. The situation is being monitored and I know perfectly well the progress young Draco is making."
Harry was slightly ruffled that Dumbledore was keeping him out of the loop, especially if potential Death Eaters were running around the school devising plans for Voldemort, but he decided to drop it for now and move on. "Alright Professor, but I hope you'll tell me if there's anything I can do to help. Speaking of which," Harry briskly transitioned, "These lessons are wonderful, and I'm really enjoying getting to spend the extra time with you sir…"
"There's no need for flattery Harry, I'm too old to make much of it."
"Err…yea, well…Hermione and I were just wondering if there was anyway the two of us, maybe Ron eventually, could have some extra lessons?"
"What sort of lessons did you have in mind?" Dumbledore asked, his twinkling eyes glowing with amusement.
"We felt it would be very useful if we could have some private lessons, maybe from some of the Order who are already stationed here, in things such as Occulemency, Legilimency, Dueling, Wards, and stuff of that nature."
"I concur that it would indeed be useful, however, I'm not sure when you or your friends would find the time. As I understand it, you're the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Harry. And isn't it the same Miss Granger who is always discussing the merits of intense dedication to one's studies?" Dumbledore and Harry shared a grin -Hermione's antics were legendary. "Even if I were to procure for your use, Auror Tonks, or perhaps even Remus, who also mentioned to me at the last Order meeting the troubles he was facing with the other Werewolves, when would you three be able to take the extra lessons?"
"For something this important, we should be able to make the time, Professor."
Dumbledore considered him for a moment, and seemed to come to a decision. "Very well Harry. I'll speak to Nymphadora and Remus. Perhaps the Room of Requirement will be suitable?"
"Isn't it always?"
"It tries."
"Thanks you sir, I'd really appreciate it."
"Very good, now, I really must insist we move on. I have two more memories to show you this evening, both obtained with enormous difficulty, and the second of them is, I think, the most important I have collected."
The first memory they visited took them back to the Gaunts' house, which was now even more indescribably filthy than anywhere Harry had ever seen. Tom Riddle had attacked his uncle and stolen the ring.
That memory was of the same day Tom Riddle Senior and his mother and father had been found dead in the drawing room of the big house, Riddle Manor. In the magical community, Tom's uncle, Morfin, was charged with the murders and had gladly admitted to them, even though Harry and Dumbledore had just viewed the proof of his innocence.
The second memory produced a much younger version of Horace Slughorn, surrounded by a group of boys. Harry was so used to Slughorn bald that he found the sight of him with thick, shiny, straw-colored hair quite disconcerting; it looked as though he had had his head thatched, though there was already a shiny Galleon-sized bald patch on his crown.
Tom Riddle, easily recognizable as the most handsome of the half dozen boys sitting around Slughorn had dawdled deliberately, wanting to be last in the room with Slughorn.
"Look Sharp, Tom," said Slughorn, turning around and finding him still present. "You don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect…"
"Sir, I wanted to ask you something."
"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away…"
"Sir, I wondered what you know about…about Horcruxes?"
And then a dense fog distorted the memory and Slughorn's superimposed voice could be heard denouncing Riddle and horcruxes. Seconds later, Harry once again found himself in Dumbledore's office.
"That's all there is?" said Harry blankly.
"As you might have noticed," said Dumbledore, reseating himself behind his desk, "that memory has been tampered with."
"The dense fog…"
"Correct! Professor Slughorn has meddled with his own recollections."
"To hide whatever he really told Riddle about…err…horrors?"
"Horcruxes. Yes, it would appear so… Thus, for the first time, I am giving you homework." Harry's face soured, but Dumbledore continued, "Do this Harry, for the same reason I will allow you extra lessons, -it will help us all defeat Tom." Harry nodded solemnly. "It will be your job to persuade Professor Slughorn to divulge the real memory, which will undoubtedly be our most crucial piece of information of all."
"You've already tried Legilimency and Veritaserum? Why should I have any better luck than you?"
"Professor Slughorn is an extremely capable Wizard. No doubt, he would be expecting both. No, I think it would be foolish to attempt to wrest the truth from Professor Slughorn by force, and might do much more harm than good; I do not wish him to leave Hogwarts. However, he has his weaknesses like the rest of us, and I believe that you are the one person who might be able to penetrate his defenses. It is most important, we will only know when we have seen the real thing. So, good luck…and good night."
A little taken aback by the abrupt dismissal, Harry got to his feet quickly. "Good night, sir."
As he closed the study door behind him, he distinctly heard Phineas Nigellus say, "I can't see why the boy should be able to do it better than you, Dumbledore."
"I wouldn't expect you to, Phineas," replied Dumbledore, and Fawkes gave another low, musical cry.
As Harry traversed the familiar route back to the Gryffindor tower, he thought back on all he'd seen in the Pensieve.
Tom Riddle had been a killer at Harry's age. Walking down the darkened corridor, Harry wondered, 'had he ever been otherwise, or had Voldemort been born evil?'
So consumed by his thoughts, -on whether or not Tom Riddle had been destined to become a great evil, or had simply just fallen into the habit, -Harry didn't even notice when Peeves tried to spill ink on him. It dripped all into his hair and robes, but Harry didn't say anything. If he had been paying attention, he probably would have laughed at the look of exasperation he had left the stunned poltergeist with by his indifference.
Upon entering the Gryffindor Commons, he found Hermione, still curled up in front of the fire exactly as he had left her, though nearly a hundred pages further had been read in her book.
She heard him approach and looked up. All the reading had left her with the beginnings of dark circles beneath her eyes and her hair seemed to be crackling at the same intensity as the fire before them. "What did he say?" she asked.
"He's going to talk to Lupin and Tonks about it, but I have to do something first."
"What's that?"
"I have to get Slughorn to give me a memory."
"I take it this has something to do with when Slughorn taught Tom Riddle?" Hermione said, yawning as she did so.
"Brilliant as always… Hey, you're not tempted to turn into an evil psychopathic Dark Lord any time soon, are you? You and Riddle were both pretty smart…" Harry drifted off stoically, not breaking into laughter until Hermione pelted him with her rather hefty book.
