Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of J.K. Rowling's characters, places, items, and so on.
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Chapter 10 – Trust & New Responsibilities
Harry gazed at Silver from across the table as the foursome ate lunch. She was talking to Ron about something...tossing her hair back and laughing, her eyes dancing. He felt a bit jealous that he wasn't the one sitting next to her, making her laugh.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, sounding annoyed.
"Huh?" he answered blankly, turning to look at her.
Hermione looked from him to Silver and back to him again.
"For heaven's sake, will you try and concentrate on what I'm trying to tell you for one minute! She's not going anywhere, you know!"
Silver glanced over, having heard Hermione's comment, and she smiled and winked at Harry. He grinned at her, but quickly returned his attention to a very exasperated Hermione.
"I'm listening," he assured her, looking into her eyes to prove that he was.
"Finally," she muttered, shaking her head. "So anyway..."
Harry didn't hear a word she said, because at that moment Neville came running into the Great Hall, from what it looked like he kept saying, "I'm late! I'm late!" He continued to push past people at a dead run, just as Silver stood up from her seat, saying, "I'll be right back". She turned, and gave a small shriek as Neville nearly collided with her. To prevent that from happening, however, Neville grabbed Dean's neck and slid spectacularly past Silver as Dean choked and fell backwards onto the floor.
"S...sorry," Neville apologized profusely to both Silver and Dean.
Dean was clutching his neck as he lay on the floor, moaning, and Neville was sitting up and wincing. Silver still looked a bit shocked at the whole event. Soon the whole Gryffindor table was doubled over with laughter, and the other tables were looking to see what had happened.
"My neck," Dean mourned, rubbing it and glaring at Neville.
"Sorry, I'm really sorry," Neville repeated, gazing fearfully up at Silver.
"It's alright, Neville," she assured him, helping him up and then Dean, "Just don't go running around like that again."
Dean seemed to have instantly healed when he took her hand for her to help him up, and Neville started stuttering worse than ever as well as blushing profusely.
Silver looked down at Ron, looking confused. "Now what was I going to go do?" she asked him.
Ron shrugged. "I dunno, you may as well just stay here," he replied.
Frowning, Silver sat back down.
The bell rang, and they headed for Defense Against the Dark Arts. On Tuesday class had been a disaster, because Tonks had tripped over Seamus' bag as she walked down the aisles and set off his box of Fred & George's spectacular but hard to get rid of fireworks. Therefore; other than her introductory speech, which she seemed to have worked very hard on, the class was spent getting rid of them.
They entered her classroom with smiles and sat down in the front. She gave them a thankful smile. Once everyone had sat down, Tonks began, although she looked a bit apprehensive.
"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts, everyone," she said, beaming, "I'm sorry about last class, I – well, it's over with now..."
She trailed off and seemed to search very hard for her train of thought before beginning again.
"Oh, right! One of the things we will be concentrating the most on in here is concealment. This is the ability to blend in with your surroundings, and it can save your life in tough situations. Yes, Dean?"
Dean was waving his hand in the air wildly.
"Are you really a Metamorphmagus?" he asked excitedly.
"Well, yes," she said, looking as if this was not where she had wanted the conversation to go.
"Can you make your hair pink?" Lavender squealed excitedly.
"Um, sure," Tonks agreed, as her hair changed from curly and blonde to pink and long."
"Ooh!" Parvati exclaimed.
Tonks looked dismayed, and Harry raised his hand, determined to get the class back on track.
"Harry?" she asked timidly.
"How are we going to be studying concealment?" he asked, "Don't you have to use Disillusionment Charms and stuff for that?"
She beamed at him. "Yes, exactly, in fact, we're going to know how to do those by the end of term!"
Immediately the class became interested in concealment.
Tonks began by showing them how to change their appearance. Unfortunately, the spell she showed them was one to make their hair color black, so it was no use to Harry, and it didn't make much difference with Silver.
"Sorry, Harry," she apologized as she fixed Ron's hair, which he had somehow turned green, "We'll be doing blonde next, though!"
"Great," Harry murmured, although not loud enough for her to hear.
Silver giggled.
After class they went out by the lake and began throwing a crumpled ball of paper around at each other, but Ron accidentally threw it a bit too far and it hit Professor Flitwick on the head as he passed, putting an end to the game. Then they went to the library and finished their homework together, getting in trouble numerous times for talking too loud. Finally, it was dinnertime.
"I'm starved," Ron complained, "And, according to my Divination homework, I'd better hurry and eat because I won't get a chance tomorrow morning – I'm going to trip and crack my head open on my way to breakfast, landing me in St. Mungo's for a year."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but Silver and Harry burst out laughing.
"Tomorrow I'm finding unexpected treasure," Silver said smugly. Professor Trewalney had taken a liking to Silver, and often predicted small pleasantries in her future.
"Too right you are," Ron smirked.
"Harry," someone demanded.
Harry looked behind him to see Professor McGonagall.
"Um, yeah?" he asked, trying to swallow his food before he talked.
"When you're done with dinner, I'd like to see you in my office," she announced.
"Oh," he replied.
She turned and walked away, and Harry turned back to his friends desperately trying to remember if he had done anything wrong in her class. He thought he had transformed his cat into a very acceptable music box, although it might have given off a faint meowing sound along with the music.
"I put designs on my box and everything," he said disappointedly, "I wonder what I did wrong."
"I don't know, mate," Ron said, "I thought it was great – mine still had claws at each corner."
"Don't be silly, you two," Hermione said in a bossy voice, "That's not why Harry's getting called in there."
"Why then?" Ron asked, puzzled.
"Oh, honesty, you two," Silver said, "Isn't it obvious?"
"No, but please fill us in," Harry replied.
"No, I think you should find out for yourself, Harry," Hermione replied, although she sounded disappointed that he hadn't figured it out.
Harry frowned and finished his dinner in a hurry.
"See you guys in the common room," he said, heading for Professor McGonagalls' office.
He knocked lightly on the door, and she replied with, "Come in, Potter."
He obediently went in and sat where directed.
"Now, Harry," Professor McGonagall said, "I daresay you know why you are here."
Harry responded with a blank look.
"Oh really now, you have no idea?" she asked disbelievingly.
"Not really," Harry answered, feeling embarrassed.
She sighed, but looked vaguely amused.
"Harry, you are this year's Quidditch captain," she replied.
"I'm what?" he asked, jumping up.
"Yes, it's all very well," Professor McGonagall said, "I would have told you sooner, but I have no time. The only days you have to run tryouts are either next Wednesday or next Friday."
Harry almost yelled out "Wednesday!" but figured he would be cutting it close with his Occlumency lesson – and he certainly didn't want to be tired while trying to fight an invasion on his mind.
"Friday," he replied reluctantly, "I have Occlumency Wednesday."
"Very well then, Harry, you will be holding tryouts next Friday from four to six," she replied, scribbling a note down in a worn blue planner, "Can you remember that?"
"Yep," Harry replied confidently, not knowing how he could possibly forget it.
"Okay then, off you go," she said.
Harry walked out of her classroom and then broke into a run. He wondered if Hermione and Silver had really known why he was going to her office. He turned a corner and collided with something very solid. He staggered backwards, but didn't fall, and looked up into the eyes of an angry looking Professor Snape.
"Watch where you're going, Potter!" he snapped.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"How many points should it be from Gryffindor?" Snape mused.
"None, sir," Harry supplied, "Because it wont happen again."
Snape looked at him with a mixture of loathing and amusement. He looked around as if checking for witnesses.
"Very well, but mind you keep your eyes open from now on," he said.
"Yes, sir," Harry replied. He walked quickly around the next corner and broke into a run again, knowing full well that Snape could still hear his footsteps.
"Rubies," he panted to the portrait. The Fat Lady gave him a once over and apparently decided she didn't want to know as she swung open.
Harry dived through the portrait hole and announced loudly to the whole room, "I'm Quidditch captain!"
He was overtaken by a sea of cheering people, but finally made it to Hermione, Silver, and a shocked looking Ron.
"You knew, Hermione?" he kept saying, "You knew, and you didn't tell me?"
Hermione just grinned. Then she turned to Silver.
"Do you play Quidditch?" she asked.
"Yes, a bit," she replied, "I'm thinking of trying out for the team."
"What's your position?" Ron asked.
"Wait and find out," she replied with a smile.
"When are tryouts, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Next Friday, four to six," Harry recited.
"Aww, that's way too long. Come on, Silver, just tell me!" he begged.
"Nope, wait and see," was her reply.
Hermione giggled.
"Good, teach him patience," she told Silver.
Ron complained about not knowing the whole way to bed, and a few minutes afterwards.
Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face, gold Snitches invading his thoughts.
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The next day Harry was fully appreciative of the fact that they got Friday afternoons off.
After Charms, they had the weekend to themselves. He and Silver walked out of the class and turned to wait for Ron and Hermione.
"Where'd they go?" Silver asked, peeking in and confirming that they were not there.
"I dunno," Harry replied, looking around for a sign of them.
"Maybe they went to the library," she suggested.
At his look, she added, "It's the sort of place Hermione would drag Ron to."
They searched the library, but no Ron and Hermione. They also searched the common room, the Quidditch field, Hagrid's hut, and the Great Hall, but to no avail.
"Where could they be?" Silver asked, sounding a bit frustrated.
"I don't know," Harry replied truthfully. They were standing in the Great Hall, very confused.
"Oh well," Silver said, "I guess they had something important to do."
"I guess," Harry agreed, "So what do you want to do now?"
"Go to the common room, I suppose," Silver replied.
They walked to the common room together, and when they entered, it was nearly empty. A group of first years sat studying in a corner, and Harry heard one of them complaining about Hover Charms.
They chose a couch by the fire, and Silver looked intently into the flames as Harry looked intently at her. She turned to him and smiled.
"What?" she asked.
"You're beautiful," he replied truthfully.
"Is that the only reason you like me?" she inquired.
"I didn't say you were only beautiful on the outside," he answered.
She smiled at him, and he leaned closer to her. She closed her eyes, but at that moment they heard Hermione's voice echoing through the portrait hole.
"They do too!"
"They do not!" Ron answered angrily.
Harry glared at them, not really caring what they were arguing about. Why couldn't they have waited just a few minutes more before barging in like that?
Ron looked angry, and his face was red from trying to hold his temper in.
"Where were you?" Harry asked, not able to bring his voice to a completely civil tone.
"We told you we were going to the kitchens," Hermione replied, "Did you know that Dobby took all of the hats and scarves I made last year?"
"She scared the poor thing to death!" Ron exclaimed, "Told him they were for all the elves, and when he explained that they didn't want them, she went ballistic and started raging up a storm until they kicked us out!"
"They want to be free, they just don't know it!" Hermione said.
"THEY DO NOT!" Ron roared.
Hermione made an impatient noise, and then turned on her heel and stomped up the stairs to the girl's dormitories.
Ron sat down angrily next to Harry and Silver.
"Why won't she admit that I'm right?" he asked furiously, "Why can't she just accept it?"
"It can be hard for people to accept things they don't want to hear," Silver said wisely, "If I were you, I would break it to her a bit more – gently."
Ron looked up at her.
"You know," she prompted, "With a bit more – compassion...consideration...love..."
"Love?" Ron echoed, "What do you want me to do, kiss her first and then tell her?"
"It might work," Silver replied.
Ron looked at her in surprise for a moment before stammering. "Well...I was joking...totally missed the point...kiss her, the idea..."
Still stammering, he walked off in the direction of the boy's dorms.
Silver sighed. "He should just kiss her and be done with it, you know."
Harry couldn't help but agree.
"I think he's afraid she still likes Krum," he answered, "She's still writing to him, you know."
Silver snorted. "She'd give him up in a second for Ron. He really needs to just pluck up some courage and tell her how he feels."
"So Hermione fancies Ron?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Well, she never stops talking about him," Silver said, and then, in a high- pitched falsetto, "Ron says...I don't think Ron would like...That would look nice on Ron...Try telling that to Ron."
Harry laughed. "Ron would go nuts. He won't admit it, but he fancies her."
Silver smiled, and began to gaze into the fire again, looking preoccupied.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, "You've been like this the whole week."
"Like what?" she asked, surprised.
"You'll be talking, and then you'll get this look in your eyes, and you'll...drift off somewhere," Harry finished lamely.
"I don't know," she said, "It just all seems too good to be true. I don't think this will all last much longer."
"All what?" Harry asked, trying to understand.
"Being safe," she replied in a small voice, "I've never been safe for so long. I've never felt safe for so long."
"Nobody's going to take you away," Harry said.
"You don't know my mother," she answered.
"Who is your mother?" Harry asked.
She looked up at him, her eyes bright, and then back at the fire. Minutes passed, and she didn't answer.
"You don't want to tell me?" Harry asked.
"Harry, I can't," she said quietly, "You wouldn't understand."
"What is there to understand?" he answered, feeling a twinge of anger, "I just want to know her name."
"No," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Why not? I thought you said you trusted me," Harry prodded.
She looked up at him and he knew what he said was a mistake. She burst into tears.
"I do trust you, Harry, I do," she sobbed.
He reached out and pulled her to him.
"I know," he comforted, "I never should have said that. I'm sorry."
She didn't stop crying, but she clung to him and he knew that he was forgiven. He felt a lump rise in his throat. He felt like a total jerk. He had tested her trust, something he never should have done – but now he knew. She trusted him enough to let him hurt her, and still trust him just as much afterwards.
"I do trust you," she sobbed.
"I know," he said quietly, "I'm really sorry. You don't have to tell me, I shouldn't have asked."
Her sobs quieted after a few minutes. Harry had a feeling there was a lot more going on than just her concerns about her mother, but he didn't ask, because he didn't want to push her any further. Long minutes passed, and she didn't pull away. Harry stroked her hair a bit awkwardly, but he had a feeling it was what he was supposed to do.
Finally, she sat back, gazing up at him with pinkish eyes. She was still beautiful.
"You should get to bed," he informed her, sensing how tired she was.
"Thanks, Harry," she said, hugging him.
"Night," he replied.
"Night," she murmured as she headed up the stairs.
Harry wished she weren't so complicated – he would have liked to know who her mother was. He sank into bed and had to force himself to stay awake for a few minutes, until he felt his mind was safely cleared. He sank into a dreamless and satisfying sleep.