Author's notes: Here we are again, gang. For those reading my other stories, please, don't worry, I AM still working on them. Life has just decided to use me as a punching bag lately and I've been exhausted and drained and just too emotional to do as much writing as usual. Just the other day, though, I did scrap what I had for the newest Soul Scars and started over. Got some ideas on how to work the scenes I wanted and progress is being made.
So… here it is. The big discussion. I honestly had a lot of trouble with HOW to go about this conversation. How to get all of the information out that needed out without boring you readers with things you already know and so on but I think I like how it all came together. Took a lot and I struggled with most of it, but it's there and we're moving forward.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter franchise. Nope, not me.
Without any further ado here is chapter 10 of A Fair Life.
A Fair Life
A Revealing Conversation
by,
Rtnwriter
"Harleen?"
"Yes, Hermione?"
"Could you please explain to me just why we're standing by a tapestry of an apparently deranged wizard that seems to be trying to teach trolls how to dance ballet?"
"You don't think he can do it?" Harleen asked, peering curiously at the tapestry.
"Trolls don't possess the necessary fine motor skills, nor the mental acuity, to learn an art like ballet. Why. Are. We. Here?"
Normally, Hermione might have been at least slightly amused by her friend's attempted humor, but right at that particular moment her head and her heart were being pulled in so many different directions that she just did not have the patience to deal with any more distractions or delays.
"Right," Harleen sighed before she turned and faced the blank stretch of wall directly across from them. "Hogwarts has a lot of secrets," she said. "The Chamber that Salazar built isn't the only, or even the most impressive, legacy hidden inside these walls. Probably the only thing that the Chamber of Secrets had going for it was that no one was able to find it before Tom and then us. Others have found this place in the past, but most of them were never able to find it again, or understand what it was they'd discovered in the first place."
"What are you talking about?" Hermione questioned. "It's just a bit of wall."
"What kind of space do we need?"
Hermione blinked in surprise and turned away from the wall to stare at the smaller girl standing beside her.
"What?"
"Space. What kind of space do we need for this discussion? A sitting room? Comfortable chairs, or maybe a couch? I think a fireplace would be nice, that always seems to add to the atmosphere of a room."
"Harleen, what are you talking about?"
Harleen shrugged, not looking in her direction as she continued to consider the wall with a look of concentration etched onto her features. "All right, I'll just wing it and let the Room decide," she said. "Wait here a moment."
Stepping away from Hermione, Harleen walked up to the wall and turned to walk back the way they'd come up the corridor. She turned after a few paces and walked back the other way and Hermione realized that the other girl had her eyes closed and her lips were moving as she whispered something over and over to herself. She moved down the hall, then turned and started back again and Hermione couldn't help but wonder at this inexplicable behavior. Harleen turned for a third pass over the stretch of wall and Hermione opened her mouth to question the girl when she stopped, her jaw hanging open as a large, ornate door suddenly seemed to grow out of the wall.
In less than a second the door was fully formed and looked as if it had been there all along, despite her knowing that it hadn't been even thirty seconds earlier.
"What did you do?" she blurted out as Harleen turned around one last time and opened her eyes, grinning as she spotted the door.
"I made us a place to talk. Come on."
Without any further delay, Harleen opened the door and gestured for Hermione to enter ahead of her, which she did, slowly, her eyes darting around the room as she entered it.
"This is impossible," she muttered. "This wall is part of the outer wall of the Tower. There's no space for there to be a room here."
"Yeah, I've never really been sure how that works, but I'd guess that Rowena built this place. It's too amazing a piece of magic, and probably far too complicated for anyone other than her to have conceived of the concept. It's known as the Room of Requirement and it can become just about anything the user needs."
"How long have you known about this place? How did you find it?"
The room beyond the door was… cozy was the best word Hermione could think of to describe it. As Harleen had said, there was a fireplace with a merrily burning fire crackling within it against the wall directly opposite the door. In front of that fireplace sat a low coffee table, two plush armchairs, and a small sofa. At first inspection the sofa looked to be just about the perfect size for the two of them to sit comfortably, but also somewhat intimately.
She fought down a flush and turned to Harleen who was frowning, one finger tapping her chin as she appeared to be lost in thought.
"Well… in one way, this is my first time seeing or using this room. In another way, I've known about it and used it frequently for three years now."
Hermione gaped at the girl, watching as she closed the door behind her, which disappeared a moment later, and moved across the thick, cream colored carpet until she was standing by one of the armchairs. She looked around, frowning at the seating arrangement for a moment before she nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied. She then kicked off her shoes and sat in the armchair to the left of the sofa, pulling her feet up so her legs were curled up on the seat beside her as she leaned against one arm and she gestured to the sofa, indicating that Hermione should sit.
"That doesn't make any sense," Hermione argued as she moved over and sat, setting down the bag she had slung over one shoulder. She hesitated a moment before she removed her own shoes and she turned, sitting with her back to the arm of the sofa with her feet on the cushion, knees drawn up. "How could this be your first time here if you've used this place for years? And if you've known about it for that long, why haven't you told me about it before now?"
"I know it doesn't make sense, and I'm sorry but a lot of what I'm going to say isn't going to seem to make a lot of sense, but I promise you it's all true as far as I know."
Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and leaned back in her spot on the sofa, her arms crossed over her chest. She took a deep breath and held it, slowly counting to ten in her head before she exhaled.
I need to be calm and rational, she thought. One thing at a time.
"I have a question," she said, looking up to find Harleen giving her an incredulous look.
"Only one?" the other girl said, clearly surprised.
"No. No, I have so many questions that I've lost track at this point. This is just the first, and possibly most important at the start here. How much can you tell me?"
Harleen cocked her head to one side. "How do you mean?"
"You told Madam Longbottom that there was a lot you weren't allowed to tell anyone, but there was one person you could tell more. So how much can you tell me, and actually, who is it you can tell the most? Shouldn't you be taking to them instead of me? Not that I don't want to know, but why waste time with me?"
Harleen's lips stretched into a broad smile. "You're that person," she said, to Hermione's surprise. "You are the one person I'm allowed to explain most of this to."
Hermione blinked in surprise. "Me?" she squeaked. "Why me?"
"Why not you?"
"Harleen! I'm serious. Why me? I get the feeling that whatever this is, you might be caught up in the center of it but it's going to affect a lot of other people, isn't it?"
Harleen nodded.
"Then why would you choose me? I understand that you don't trust him, and believe me, I don't particularly trust him myself either, but wouldn't the Headmaster be better to tell all this to than someone like me?"
"Dumbledore might be just as good, but there's the whole trust issue. Aside from that, you are brilliant in a way I could never hope to be. I'm not stupid, but you are on an entirely different level from me. I trust you beyond anyone. And… well, I actually didn't pick you. Given a choice I would have chosen you over anyone else, but from what I understand, the reason that I'm allowed to tell you specifically is because of the role you might be able to play in my life."
"What role is that?"
Harleen fidgeted nervously in her seat, her eyes moving away from Hermione to land on her hands where she had them resting on her thigh. "I'd rather not say right now," she admitted.
Hermione frowned, her mind latching onto the other girl's wording. "You'd 'rather not'," she repeated. "Not that you can't, but that you won't?"
"I won't influence you or your choices if I can help it," Harleen insisted. "Telling you could push you to choose something one way or another. If you decide to fill that role, I want you to do it because you want to, not because you think you should."
Hermione considered that carefully and she had to admit that her friend had a point. A part of her burned to know, but she could easily see where Harleen's hesitance was coming from. There was only one problem.
"How do I make a choice that I know nothing about?" she asked. "The decision could be right in front of me and I might choose wrong because I don't know there's even a choice to be made."
"Because it's not that kind of choice," Harleen explained with a shake of her head. "It isn't a moment in the future where you'll be faced with a decision and you'll have to choose or let it pass you by."
Harleen sighed and shifted her weight in her seat. "Look, can we just get to the explanations? It's going to take a while, and we still have another discussion to finish."
Hermione fought a bright flush as she recalled the so recent memory of Harleen's lips against her own and the sensation that had shot through her body during that brief, yet phenomenal, kiss. They did still need to discuss that entire situation but Harleen was right in that there was another, more important discussion that needed to be had first. Unsure of her ability to speak without stammering like a fool, she simply nodded and pulled a notebook and pen from her bag where she'd set it on the coffee table.
Flipping the book open she readied her pen, cleared her throat, and gave the other girl an expectant look. "Should I ask questions, or do you just want to explain and I'll ask what I need for clarity?"
"Probably best if I get through everything and you ask questions after," Harleen decided nervously. She took several long breaths, af if attempting to calm her nerves, and straightened up in her seat.
"Okay, first thing is on Monday when I said I'd had a dream… I'm not completely sure that's true. I mean, I woke up in my bed in the dorm, but I don't feel like what I experienced happened in my head. Basically… I think someone gave me memories."
Hermione arched a brow incredulously.
"Memories? Of what? Whose memories?"
"My memories, of the next three and a half years, give or take."
Hermione felt her jaw drop open.
"I remember fourth year. I remember our fifth year, and our sixth year, and what should have been our seventh year here at school."
Hermione's mouth moved several times without producing any sound before she was able to ask, "'Should have been'?"
Harleen grimaced. "Yeah, you, Ron, and I didn't return for our seventh year. We were busy with a mission that Dumbledore gave to me and we couldn't be seen anyway. Voldemort took over the Ministry that summer and we were public enemies one, two, and three."
"How could he do that? He's just a spirit."
"He comes back this year, gets himself a new body with my blood as one of the main ingredients in the ritual."
Harleen had a haunted expression on her face and her left hand was absently rubbing at the crook of her right elbow, as if it was hurting her.
Shaking her head Hermione held out one hand in a stopping gesture. "Wait. Start at the beginning, explain each year to me."
"You believe me?" Harleen asked, sounding surprised.
"I don't know what to believe, but I'd like to hear you out at least," she stated firmly, a determined expression on her face.
What the girl had already said made a strange degree of sense even as it sounded impossible. If mentally Harleen was nearly four years older than her physical body… that might explain the increased maturity Hermione had noticed. At the same time however, what she was describing was impossible as far as Hermione knew. And if it was actually possible, how did it happen?
Slowly Harleen began to speak, going over everything she claimed to remember from the upcoming years and the longer she spoke, the more incredible, and plausible, it all sounded. The degree of detail she went into with each year, the people she mentioned and the actions that were taken… it was either true, or her friend was incredibly sick and had concocted an elaborate fantasy in a broken psychological state.
There were probably other possible reasons, such as Harleen was lying to her, but she didn't feel that her best friend was lying. If she wasn't lying then she, at least, believed this all to be true. Honestly, Hermione didn't know whether to pray it was the truth, or hope it was all in her friend's head.
"The last thing I remember was facing Voldemort. I remember a flash of green light and then nothing."
"And then you were in that office you mentioned?" Hermione asked.
Harleen hummed an affirmative sounding reply though after two hours of talking the girl was too busy working her way through a glass of water to give a more articulate answer.
"This is… this is all…" Hermione trailed off, searching for the proper words to express her shock.
"Crazy?" Harleen asked with a wry grin as she lowered the now empty glass.
"No!" Hermione blurted out. "No, not crazy, just… incredible, unbelievable, outlandish… take your pick. It's a lot to take in, Harleen."
"Yeah, I'll give you that." Harleen fiddled with the glass in her hands for a few moments before she leaned forward and set it down on the coffee table. "Well, I'm sure you have questions."
Understatement of the century, Hermione thought, glancing quickly over the many pages of notes she'd made while her friend had been talking. I just don't have the slightest clue where to start!
"God, this is just so… I mean I get that you feel it's true, but how can we be sure of that? Who was the person that talked to you in that office? How were you there? Were you really there? Or did it happen in your head? And if it did happen in your head can we just assume that it's not real? Or does it matter one way or the other? Who would give you memories of something that hasn't happened yet? How could they do it? And more importantly why would they do it?"
"I think the 'why' is pretty clear," Harleen interrupted Hermione's rambling mutterings. "I'm to change things, fix things, so they don't happen as those memories show me they happened. In them Sirius died. Dumbledore died. Moony and Tonks and so many others died, Hermione."
Hermione lifted her head to see the other girl curled into a ball in her chair, her arms wrapped around her legs with her chin resting on her knees. Tears glimmered in her eyes and there was an expression of such pain on her face that Hermione felt her heart go out to her friend.
Whether the memories themselves were real or imagined, the pain those memories caused Harleen was very real, and Hermione found herself at a loss as to how to help.
Before she could move or say anything Harleen seemed to shake herself and she straightened up in her seat. "Things have already changed from how I remember them happening, I only hope that I'm changing things for the better and that's just a part of why I need you," she said, bright green eyes fixed firmly on the brunette witch. "I need your help to make sure I don't make a hash of this and make things worse than they could have been."
"I'll always help you however I can, Harleen. If I've said it once I've said it a hundred times by now… but, how have you changed things?"
Harleen's brow furrowed in thought. "Well… Cedric believes that I didn't put my name in the goblet. I remember falling out with Ron, but not like it happened the other day. The biggest thing is, in my memories I wasn't a girl. The goblet didn't give me my proper body back and I remained a boy right up to the end. I think that'll cause plenty of changes all on its own."
For another hour they continued, Hermione asking questions and Harleen answering as best she could. Hermione was more than a little put out by the idea of a prophecy and even more so when she was told who gave the prophecy. Harleen went into greater detail about the upcoming years while Hermione looked for any holes in the story.
"So what do you think?" Harleen finally asked once they decided to take a break for lunch.
"I think you shouldn't be asking Dobby for things," she muttered, staring at the lunch spread the little elf had brought them at Harleen's request.
"That's the thing though, I ask," Harleen pointed out. "I don't order or command. I ask and Dobby knows he can say no if he wants to."
As if that little guy would ever say no to any request from you, Hermione thought.
"That's not what I meant when I asked what you thought."
Hermione sighed and picked up her plate, sitting back on the couch with the plate in her lap. "I know," she admitted softly.
"Honestly, I don't know what to think," she muttered, absently pushing the food around on her plate with her fork. "There are who knows how many conclusions I could draw from your story, but I think only two are even remotely possible."
"What are they?" Harleen asked in a gentle, understanding tone that only served to twist Hermione's stomach into greater knots of guilt.
"First, it's all true. That you have these memories of something that hasn't happened yet, which should be impossible as far as I know. Even the memories themselves, all true, and we now have an opportunity to do something with the knowledge you have."
"And the second possibility?"
Hermione's eyes squeezed tightly shut, her face screwing up into a grimace at the softly spoken question. Still, she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. She plucked up her courage and pushed forward.
"With all the bad things that have happened to you over the years… it's not impossible that the trauma of getting your proper gender back may have caused something of a psychotic break. Your mind might have concocted this whole elaborate history as a sort of coping mechanism."
"But it all started before the goblet gave me my proper form back. That doesn't fit."
"It can when you take into account how hard your life has been even before that. Admittedly, you knowing about your real gender and the Champions and Neville's wand… I don't know how you would have learned that but it's not impossible."
"So… you think I'm crazy."
Hermione's eyes flew open even as her head snapped up toward her friend. "No!" she burst out. "You're not crazy! Even if that's what's happened here you would be unwell, sick, and you would need help. You're not crazy. I don't want you to talk like that, Harleen Potter!"
Hermione expected the other girl to look upset, but instead Harleen was giving her a soft smile that seemed to light up her face, her eyes practically gleaming behind her new glasses. She raised both of her hands in a placating gesture in the face of Hermione's sudden ire.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Like I told you before, if all this hadn't happened to me I'd find the whole story crazy. I'll stop saying that if it bothers you though."
"Of course it bothers me. I don't like you thinking about yourself like that, Harleen."
The two of them fell silent for a short time, Hermione rather heavily absorbed in her thoughts as Harleen appeared to simply be observing her. Sighing, Hermione set her plate aside, not having managed a single bite in her agitated state, before she turned her attention back to her friend.
"Look, long and short, I really don't know what to think, what to believe. At the very minimum I believe that you believe this is all true, but I can't say for certain. There's… there's been a few signs that maybe there's something to this but I'm not sure how you can prove anything you're saying. It's all about events that aren't going to happen anymore if you're actually changing the future."
"You mean me predicting the champions, predicting my actual birth gender, the things I know that I can't possibly have known," Harleen listed and Hermione nodded.
"Yes, those all lend some credence to your story but I can't see them as definitive proof in and of themselves. I'm just not sure how you could actually prove what you're saying."
Again Hermione was surprised when Harleen smiled more broadly than before.
"I've been thinking about that. I know you, Hermione Granger. I know that, best friend or not, you'd need some form of proof. So, how'd you like to help me destroy a horcrux?"
Hermione stared at Harleen. "Okay, next question… what's a horcrux?"
#####
Her eyes closed, Harleen paced in front of the wall again, thinking repeatedly, I need a place to hide something.
When the door appeared she grinned and pulled it open, gesturing widely with one arm for Hermione to precede her into the room. "Welcome, to the Room of Lost Things," she said, barely holding back a giggle at the dumbfounded expression on the other girl's face.
"This is incredible," Hermione breathed, slowly turning to take in the massive size of the room behind the door. The space easily dwarfed the Great Hall in dimension and was absolutely crammed full of mounds and piles of junk. Centuries worth of lost items lay within that room, so much that to search the place entirely would have been a monumental undertaking.
Good thing we're not looking to search the whole place.
"What is all this?"
"From what I understand, everything that gets lost or left behind in the school gets placed here by the house elves. It's been collecting 'lost' things since the school was founded. Or… since the Room was built, at least."
"And what are we doing here? You said something about a horcrux? Those were the soul containers that Voldemort made, right?"
Harleen nodded and began to lead the way deeper into the room amongst the stacks of junk. "That's right," she said as Hermione fell into step beside her, still with an expression of overwhelmed awe on her face.
"Sixth year, you and I argue a lot over a potions book," Harleen said.
"The Halfblood Prince," Hermione supplied and Harleen found herself nodding.
"Exactly. I was never really sure why you were so upset about that. It's the only time I can remember where you weren't solidly supporting me." Harleen suddenly paused, a thoughtful look on her face. "Not that I'm blaming you or something. That won't happen now but it just struck me as weird. I can't figure out why you would act that way."
Harleen wasn't paying any attention to Hermione as they walked, her focus on their surroundings as she did her best to remember where she was going. As such it took a few seconds before she realized that her friend was no longer beside her.
"I think… I think I might know why I could have acted that way."
Harleen stopped and turned around, surprised to see Hermione some ten feet away, her eyes lowered to the floor, hands twinning and twisting together nervously in front of her.
Hesitantly Harleen opened her mouth but no immediate response came to mind, so she pressed her lips together and waited as patiently as she could.
"You… you've been f-flirting with me for days," Hermione seemed to force out. "Then you changed. and you've kissed me twice now after becoming a girl again. You know, don't you? You know I'm…"
"I know you're gay," Harleen said softly when Hermione trailed off into silence. "My memories didn't tell me that, I learned it in that office. He told me the role you might play in my life and, to me, it was impossible. It didn't make sense. He explained that it was because I stayed male in those memories. In my memories you even told me that you were in love with me, but for some reason that you refused to say, you couldn't actually be with me. When I found out you didn't like men that made a lot more sense"
"How long have you felt something for me, Harleen?" Hermione finally asked. "When did it start, even if you didn't understand it or know what it was, how long ago did you feel something?"
Harleen turned so she was facing the other girl fully, abandoning her search to focus on her friend, giving Hermione her full attention.
"I don't really know," she said. "I thought when we first met on the train that you seemed interesting. A little bossy, and you talked a lot, but interesting. If it hadn't been for Ron wanting nothing to do with you, I might have tried to get to know you sooner. Not blaming Ron entirely for that either; it's at least partially my fault. Ron was my first friend my age and I didn't know how to be his friend and disagree with him at the same time."
Hermione nodded absently as Harleen spoke. "Did you know that I started dreaming about you in third year?" she asked.
Harleen blinked a few times in surprise and slowly shook her head.
"Not you, 'Harry Potter' but you as you are now, as 'Harleen Potter'." Hermione turned and picked up a book off of a small stack of junk, idly flipping it open and turning a few pages. "It started around the time we made up after the whole Firebolt issue. I started having dreams of this girl with green eyes and black hair that reminded me so much of my best friend."
That has to be because we're supposed to be soulmates, Harleen thought, carefully watching Hermione as she continued flipping through the book.
"I don't know how, or why, but when you changed on Monday night… I recognized the girl in my arms immediately." She closed the book and set it back on the pile. "It's been driving me barmy, I swear," she muttered. "You… dammit I've felt drawn to you practically since we met, Harleen. Something about you caught my attention, like something was pulling at me. But I'm not interested in boys."
She turned, her eyes meeting Harleen's again and the raven haired girl wasn't in the least bit surprised to see tears brimming in the other girl's gaze.
"Can you imagine that? Feeling something for someone emotionally but not feeling anything else? You were a boy, but my heart was telling me one thing that the rest of me wanted to deny. If it continued… if you'd stayed a boy and my feelings continued on as they were, or grew stronger… I guess I'm not surprised I could have acted that way. I think I would have felt like I was completely losing my mind by that time."
Harleen found herself nodding. "I think I can understand that. That's another issue to lay at Dumbledore's feet, I guess. If he hadn't messed with my gender you wouldn't have suffered that."
You wouldn't be doubting how I feel about you now, she added mentally. A moment later Harleen shook her head and extended her arm, holding her hand out to the other girl. "Come on," she whispered. "We really need to finish the rest of our discussion but we need to find this horcrux first."
Almost hesitantly, Hermione moved closer and slowly accepted the offered hand. Harleen carefully threaded their fingers together and lifted their clasped hands. She pressed a soft kiss to Hermione's knuckles before she lowered their hands and continued through the maze of junk, gently pulling Hermione with her.
They were silent for several minutes before Hermione spoke again.
"How did it happen?" she asked and Harleen turned to look up at the girl next to her.
"How did what happen?"
Hermione wasn't looking at her, but her cheeks were pink with a soft flush as she spoke.
"You said I told you that I loved you in these memories you have. How did it happen? When?"
Harleen winced and turned her attention back to where they were going. "Well, as I seem to have a habit of doing, it happened because I was stupid."
"What do you mean?"
"This way," Harleen murmured, turning right at an intersection as she pulled Hermione along with her. "It happened the same way I keep being stupid now." She shot a look at Hermione out of the corner of her eye. "It happened because I kissed you. It was during the Hunt I told you about, after Ron left. You and I were dancing. You'd been very upset since he left and I wanted to try to cheer you up. Like an idiot I just couldn't stop myself. You looked so beautiful, and so happy after a while that I just kissed you."
"And you were still male at the time?"
Harleen's face turned up into a grimace at that. "Yeah. It uh… it didn't go over well. You were very nice about shooting me down," she hastened to add. "You made it very clear our friendship wasn't going to suffer but you couldn't be anything more to me than that."
"Harleen… do you think it's possible that what you think you feel is being influenced by these-"
"Here it is."
Harleen let go of Hermione's hand after cutting her off and pulling the other girl to a stop in front of the bust where Ravenclaw's Diadem sat. She studied it for a moment, wondering over how different it looked to her now that she knew what it was. The first time she'd seen it, when she was trying to hide the potions book, it hadn't looked like anything more than a cheap tiara. Even now, it looked exactly the same, but colored by her knowledge of how tainted it was, it seemed ominous and foul.
"What is it?"
"The tiara," Harleen answered, flicking her wrist so that her wand shot out into her hand from her holster. Silently, she levitated the diadem off of the bust and set it on a clear patch of ground.
"This is Ravenclaw's Diadem," Harleen explained, turning away from the tainted artifact to face the other girl. "When he was a student here, Voldemort managed to get the location from the Grey Lady, Ravenclaw's ghost."
"How did she know?"
"Because she's actually Helena Ravenclaw, Rowena's daughter," Harleen explained. "She stole the diadem from her mother and ran away from the school. I don't exactly remember why right now. The Bloody Baron was once her lover, and he was actually the one who was sent to find her. In the end he killed her." Harleen paused again in thought for a moment. "Or maybe he wanted to be lovers but she'd rejected him in the past. I don't entirely remember at the moment, but it was something like that."
"That's terrible."
Harleen shrugged. "Just what I remember being told. Things were a little hectic at the time."
Hermione stepped closer to the diadem, studying it curiously and Harleen reached out and grabbed her arm. "Don't get too close," she warned. "The others had strange effects on people that spent too much time close to them. I don't know what this one can, or will, do."
Nodding, Hermione backed up a step until she was standing shoulder to shoulder with Harleen.
"Does it really have to be destroyed? It's such an important artifact, historically speaking. It seems a shame to destroy something like that."
"I don't know of any other way to get rid of it. As it is they're almost impossible to destroy. If there was a way to get the horcrux out without destroying the artifact itself I'd imagine it would be way beyond either of us to do it, even if we knew how."
Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. "Well, how do you intend to destroy it?"
"Well as far as I know there's only two ways to destroy one of these things. Fiendfyre, or basilisk venom."
Hermione jerked around to face her, her eyes wide. "You want to take it down to the Chamber?"
Harleen smiled and shook her head. "Not my first choice, though it may come to that. Personally, I don't know how to cast Fiendyre, so that's out, but there's another option, maybe."
"The only other thing you mentioned was the Sword of Gryffindor. It's infused with the venom from the basilisk, right?"
Harleen nodded and reached into the back pocket of her jeans, pulling out a tattered and many times folded over piece of parchment.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she murmured, pressing the tip of her wand to the map. As the lines of the map appeared on the parchment she folded and unfolded different sections, searching the castle carefully for several minutes.
"Dumbledore is in the Great Hall," she muttered once she located the dot with the Headmaster's name next to it. "Probably eating lunch. This is likely the best time for us to try to do this." She handed the map over to Hermione and turned slightly away from her. "Dobby?" she called, a smile breaking out on her face when he appeared in front of her with a crack.
"The Great Harry Potter calls for Dobby?"
"Thanks so much for coming, Dobby," she said, lowering herself to one knee so she was closer to the little guys height. "I was wondering if you might be able to help me with something, but," she added the last word sternly, raising one finger to emphasize her point, "if it's too difficult or if it's dangerous at all I want you to say 'no' do you understand?"
Dobby nodded his head rapidly, his ears flapping back and forth as he moved. "Yes, Miss Harry Potter. Dobby understands. What can Dobby be doing for the Great Harry Potter?"
"In the Headmaster's office there's a sword with a number of rubies set in the handle. It used to belong to Godric Gryffindor, do you know the sword I'm talking about?"
Dobby nodded again, bouncing up and down excitedly. "Yes! Oh, yes, Dobby knows. Dobby has seen the sword while he is cleaning."
"I really need to borrow that sword. Just for a few minutes. Do you think you could bring it to me here? Again, Dobby, if you can't or if it is protected and would hurt you to try then don't do it. I can find another solution if I need to."
Dobby shook his head furiously. "No. It is being no trouble at all. Dobby can gets it."
With that he snapped his fingers and vanished with a crack, reappearing in less than five seconds with another loud crack, the hilt of the sword clasped in one hand and he held it out to her.
"Oh, wow! I wasn't really sure that would work. Thank you so much, Dobby. This is brilliant."
The smile Harleen offered the little elf as she took the sword was broad and beaming and Dobby shivered excitedly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet again as tears welled up in his enormous eyes.
"The Great Harry Potter is too kind to thank Dobby so," he practically wailed. "Please, call for Dobby whenever you needs him."
Tears streaming down his face the little elf snapped his fingers and vanished with another crack of displaced air as Harleen stood and turned to Hermione, holding the sword triumphantly in one hand.
A moment later Hermione's eyes widened as Harleen twisted her wrist, turning the weapon so she was presenting the hilt to the other girl.
"How would you like to be the one to destroy it?" Harleen asked.
"WHAT?!"
#####
Gratefully, Hermione accepted the cup of steaming hot tea that was gently pressed into her hands, her eyes fixed on the twisted, blackened remains of the diadem where it rested on the coffee table in front of the sofa. They were back in the cozy sitting room they'd started Harleen's explanation in, and Hermione's hands had finally stopped trembling enough for her to hold the tea without the risk of spilling the scalding liquid all over herself.
"That… that was not right," she whispered, gingerly lifting her cup for a small, careful sip. Maybe it was just that she was English and raised with the mindset that there was almost nothing that couldn't be fixed by a soothing cup of tea, but that first taste did wonders to calm her frayed nerves. Harleen had even prepared the cup exactly as she would have, a single sugar with just a touch of milk and a bit of lemon.
Guess I shouldn't be surprised that she knows how I take my tea, she thought absently, her eyes still fixed on the diadem.
"It's one of the worst forms of magic there is," Harleen said from beside her on the small sofa, the two of them sitting so closely together their hips and thighs were pressed against each other.
"It fought me!" Hermione burst out. "I didn't know what to expect but…" She trailed off, unable to truly articulate the experience she'd just had. Harleen had handed her the sword, warning her to be extremely careful of the blade and the other girl had stepped away, giving her a clear view of the innocent looking piece of headwear where it had sat on the stone floor.
The moment she took a step toward it however… She shuddered, barely steadying the cup in her hands before she spilled her tea.
"I didn't really expect that either," Harleen quietly admitted. "I remember it being destroyed with Fiendfyre. We were more worried about trying to escape the Room at the time than we were looking to see what the diadem was doing."
Destroying the horcrux had been a draining, frightening experience. Something far beyond what Hermione had guessed would happen. But… as proof went, it had certainly done a lot to convince her that Harleen's memories were real.
"There's so much that we need to decide and work on," Hermione muttered, staring blankly into her cup. Occasional ripples spread across the surface of the liquid as another tremor would rock her hands.
"What's that?"
"There's so much to do," Hermione said louder. "So many decisions to make and we can't second guess ourselves. You need to train more. I'll help research and you need to teach me everything you've learned from fifth and sixth year, I have to catch up to where you are. Who do we involve and how do we do it? Should we form the DA you mentioned early? Oh my God! What about Professor Moody? He's being impersonated by a Death Eater! No wonder you attacked him like that in class! Do we just leave him for now or do we expose Barty Junior, somehow? And what about the-"
"Hermione?"
"-tasks? Can we assume they happen exactly as you remember them? Could they change at all because of the actions you've already taken? No… no it's not likely they'd change anything, nothing you've done should affect the tournament itself yet. What were the tasks again? How did you beat them before? Maybe we can find a better way to do it this time and-"
"Hermione."
"-how do we keep you out of that graveyard? Or maybe if you could go in prepared, and if I could go with you, maybe we could disrupt the ritual or destroy Voldemort right there? Oh! If we can catch Wormtail, we can get Sirius exonerated and get him his freedom!"
"HERMIONE!"
"WHAT?!"
Hermione jumped, violently startled out of her rambling, practically throwing her cup across the room where it shattered on the hearth in front of the fireplace. She jerked in her seat, twisting to face Harleen who was watching her with a concerned expression on her face. Nothing was said between the two girls for a span of a few heartbeats and then Hermione suddenly burst into tears, throwing herself at the girl beside her, her arms winding tightly around her friends shoulders.
"I'm sorry," she whimpered against Harleen's neck. "I'm sorry, I'm just… I can't believe this is-"
"It's okay, Hermione. Just… just breathe. It's okay."
Hermione barely heard the words Harleen whispered to her, she only just registered the calm, soothing tone of her voice and the way the one of Harleen's arms was wrapped securely around her waist, the other raised to let her hand gently stroke the back of Hermione's neck as she sobbed.
It took longer than Hermione was likely ever going to be willing to admit to get herself back under control, but eventually her tears subsided and she was able to pull away from Harleen, or she would have if the other girl hadn't kept a tight hold of her. With her thoughts still spinning a mile a minute, the offered comfort was welcome, even as she felt that they needed a little space between them.
"So, I take it you believe me now?"
Hermione sighed and sat up, pushing herself out of the other girl's arms and turning slightly so she could lean back against the arm of the sofa and still see Harleen without having to strain her neck to do so.
"Yes, I believe you. Ravenclaw's Diadem… that scream and the cloud that came out of the gem…" She trailed off, shuddering at the memory for a moment before forcefully shoving it aside. "That was pretty convincing, and even if I still needed more proof, I'm pretty sure you'll find ways to show me the truth of these memories of yours as time goes on."
Hermione wiped away the tears still staining her cheeks and took a few shuddering breaths in an attempt to calm her nerves.
"I'm sorry I broke down like that I was just…" She exhaled a frustrated sigh. "As if you don't already have enough danger in your life, now you're changing the future and trying to stop the most powerful Dark Lord the world has seen in centuries? All before even finishing school? At least Dumbledore waited until he was passed his fifties before he stopped Grindelwald!"
Harleen gave her a rueful grin. "Not as if I really have any choice in the matter. Someone dumped these memories into my head and I can't just sit back and do nothing. Not when I have some idea of what's coming. Someone once told me I have a 'saving people' thing. I can't help but do my best to save someone that's in trouble."
"Who told you something like that?"
Harleen smiled. "You did. Next year, before we left for the Ministry."
Hermione blinked a couple of times in surprise before she shook her head. "I'm going to be hearing a lot of lines like that, aren't I?" she muttered, though Harleen made no response, simply smiling wider at Hermione's consternation.
"As to your list of questions… we've got time to figure most of that out. I do like the idea of starting up the DA early. No reason not to, though I doubt people will be willing to let me teach them this time around. Maybe we could turn it into an open study group? What if we took that group from the Library the other day and we expanded it? We could hold the sessions in the Great Hall after dinner or something."
"Something to figure out."
"Moody and Crouch we'll have to decide on, but for the moment Mad-eye is safe. Crouch needs to keep him alive for his polyjuice potion so we don't have to rush. We can think carefully on what to do there. Everything else will similarly take time and we can afford to wait a little bit on those things."
"I get the feeling you're trying to avoid talking about them," Hermione pointed out.
Harleen shook her head, her gaze fixed intently on her bushy haired friend. "No. I just want to finish a much more important discussion right now and I don't want those things, as important as they are in their own right, getting in the way of us having that discussion."
After advocating that they finish that very discussion earlier in the dorm, Hermione suddenly found herself feeling considerably less willing to continue with it. In fact, she'd been mentally admonishing herself since she let her mouth run away with her earlier while they were searching for the Diadem. You just had to admit to having feelings for her, she thought.
"Is this really more important than working out how we're going to save the world?" she asked, hoping to skip the conversation until she was ready for it.
Harleen's response was straightforward and simple. "To me it is," she said. "We've missed out on years that we could have had together and I might have told myself that I didn't want to rush you, but most of my life I've been selfless and set aside my wants for the good of everyone else. I'm sick and tired of being selfless. At least in this, where you're involved, I want to be selfish."
Hermione couldn't help but squirm under the intensity of the other girl's gaze and also couldn't bring herself to look away.
"I want you," Harleen continued. "I want to be with you. I told you on Monday that I was done taking you for granted so I have no intention of being in any way unclear. I love you, Hermione, and we both know that you have feelings for me, so… let's hear them."
Hermione stared for several seconds as Harleen waited expectantly before she managed to shake off her surprise at the other girl's blunt statement.
"Hear what?" she asked, confused by the odd demand.
"The reasons that you've been trying convince yourself why we shouldn't be together. You list them off and I'll try to counter them."
Once again, Hermione found herself flummoxed and off balance by the more confident and more mature version of her best friend. She was so used to being the one that Harleen came to for answers that seeing the girl take charge the way she was, was throwing Hermione for a loop. Still, Hermione rallied to the presented challenge and did her best to quickly organize her thoughts.
"You're right," she admitted slowly. "I do have feelings for you. I have for a long time, but it was only at the end of last year that I was really able to define them. So, I'm not going to pretend that I don't. Not going to try to say that I don't want to be with you."
She looked down at her hands where they were resting in her lap when Harleen's face broke out into a broad, beaming smile. She didn't want to see that naked joy wither away, something she was sure would happen with her next points.
"It's fairly obvious now that these memories you have must be real. One possibility that comes to mind is that they're influencing you now. Memories of things that haven't happened influencing how you react in the present. Memories of a time when you were male, older, and had been living in close proximity with your best female friend for months. How can you say what you're really feeling with those hanging over your head, figuratively speaking?"
"My memories aren't influencing me," Harleen stated confidently. A moment later she tilted her head slightly to one side, her face taking on a thoughtful cast. "Well… not influencing me to feel something that wasn't there before," she corrected herself.
"What do you mean?"
"It's strange to try to define," Harleen muttered absently. "I mean… I do remember all these things that haven't and won't happen. Our dance in the tent. Ron abandoning us on the Hunt. So many other things, but they do still influence me to an extent."
She paused and shifted in her seat, turning on the sofa so she was facing Hermione directly as she crossed her legs and leaned forward, elbows on her thighs with her hands clasped in front of her.
"I didn't develop these feelings for you in those memories. True, it wasn't until sixth year that I understood them, but they've been there for a long time. They were there last Sunday, before these memories happened, I just didn't recognize them for what they really were. The way I see it the only influence what I now remember has had on me is in helping me give context to what I feel. It's helped me define and name feelings that have been there since first year."
Hermione opened her mouth, ready to argue her point, but nothing came out. She paused for several seconds, her jaw slowly closing as her brow furrowed into a frown. I… I really can't argue with that. She's got a point.
When she focused her attention on the girl across from her again, Harleen was grinning happily. "What else?" she asked and Hermione's frown deepened.
"Plenty," she muttered. "By your own admission you've got three and a half more years of memories in your head. That makes you, mentally, over seventeen-years-old. Seventeen years of living with a male body and the expectations, societal pressures, and so on that are placed on males… Now you're a girl, as you always should have been. I think it's unwise to jump into anything before giving yourself time to adjust to being a girl. You never know, your feelings might change once you spend some time in your proper gender."
"What makes you think that?"
Hermione sighed. "You spent seventeen years, or the mental equivalent of, with a male body, living with the expectations placed on men in society. It's more or less expected that men are attracted to women, and that's what you've grown up knowing. Now that you're back to being the girl you were always supposed to be, you don't have that expectation on you anymore. What's to say that in a few months, or a few years even, you might decide that you don't prefer women as much as you think you do now?"
Harleen shook her head, her ponytail bouncing back and forth with the sharp motion. "No. I've been thinking about that, actually, and I don't agree with that."
"Why not?"
"Because, considering it, I really think I've actually been a girl all along."
Hermione blinked several times, giving Harleen a questioning look.
"Think about it," Harleen insisted. "I was made to appear to be male with transfiguration and the use of potions and alchemy. Transfigure a man into a dog. Is that man now a dog, or is he a man that looks like a dog? The shape might have changed, but on the inside, he's still a man. I might have been changed to physically be male, but my thoughts, my mind, my individuality was untouched. As a guy I found girls attractive and had no interest whatsoever in guys. As a girl my thoughts on that haven't changed in the slightest.
"Sure, on Sunday I'd have said I'm straight if anyone asked, but that's only because I thought I was a guy. Now, I'd consider myself a lesbian. The outside has changed. The way I look has changed. How I think, how I feel, who I am on the inside is exactly the same."
"How do you know?" Hermione demanded. "You haven't been a girl again for a full week yet. How can you know that things won't change? How can you know that you won't change as time goes on?"
"I will change."
Hermione jerked back, as if struck, at that simple statement, her eyes filling with tears even as a confusing mix of emotions swirled through her.
"I'm not the same person I was a year ago," Harleen continued speaking. "I'm not the same person that I was a week ago. A week from now, or a year from now, I won't be the same person that I am today. People change. That's a given, Hermione. We all change with time and experience. I would hope that you would be there, changing and growing with me. You ask how I know that I'm not interested in men, how do you know that you aren't? By your own argument, women are expected by society, and by common belief, to be attracted to men. So shouldn't you have found the boy me enough? How is it different?"
Hermione's mouth snapped shut and she flushed furiously, something that she noted Harleen looking quite curious about.
"How do you know?" Harleen asked again. "After that reaction, now I'm curious."
"Th-there was a… last summer, I… that's not important!" Hermione spluttered, shaking her head furiously.
"I think it's at least relevant," Harleen disagreed, grinning again but she let the matter drop, much to Hermione's relief. "Anyway, did you have any other arguments as to why we shouldn't be together?"
Still blushing and looking everywhere but at the beauty sitting across from her, Hermione took a deep breath, slowly nodding her head.
"You're Harleen Potter," she said. "You're going to be the Head of your House one day. You're the hero of the wizarding world. You've got expectations hanging over you the likes of which I can barely comprehend. I've only ever had the expectations of my parents and myself to contend with… Do you have any idea the backlash you could be facing if it was known you were dating another woman?"
"Do you think I care?"
"This isn't a joke, Har-"
"I'm not laughing," Harleen interrupted her. "I'm also being completely serious." She reached out and grasped Hermione's hands, holding them firmly. "Maybe in this case I am letting my memories influence me more than usual, but I remember being abandoned for most of fourth year. I remember people turning on me over little more than rumor without ever talking to me, like they did in second year.
"I remember this entire society, with only a few exceptions, deciding I was a liar, that I was insane, glory seeking, and so on in fifth year. In sixth I was suddenly their hero again and everybody wanted to be close to me. Those things haven't happened yet, and even if they don't, I still remember them. I honestly couldn't care less what people think.
"Society doesn't get to decide who I love, who I want to be with. Society doesn't get to have any say in how I live my life, or who I want to share it with. If you're worried about the crap people will say, we can keep us a secret for as long as possible. Personally, I'm not ashamed to be in love with you. I'd be happy to show everyone how much you mean to me and anyone that wants to say anything against us can answer to me."
Unable to hold Harleens steady gaze, Hermione had dropped her eyes to their clasped hands, watching as Harleen's thumbs traced gentle circles on the backs of her own hands. That soft caress seemed to warm her, sending shivers through her body even as the simple words struck down every argument Hermione had attempted to dredge up.
Really, why are you fighting this? she thought as her heart pounded in her chest, sending her blood racing through her veins.
"We both want this," Harleen spoke so softly it was almost a whisper. Her fingers tightened around Hermione's, deceptively strong despite her hands being so small and slender. "I don't know what else I need to do to convince you. Tell me how I can prove to you that I want this; I want us. Please."
It was the emotion in her voice that finally cut through Hermione's turmoil. Thus far Harleen had been relatively logical, systematically destroying all of Hermione's arguments, one after another. Her final words had devolved into an impassioned plea, clearly communicating just how much she really wanted something more for them both.
"You are my best friend," she told the raven haired girl. "You have been such a huge part of my life ever since I entered this world and I would never want anything to jeopardize that."
As she spoke Harleen's expression closed down, becoming a carefully neutral mask, and she started to let go of Hermione's hands. Before she could, Hermione tightened her grip, using that hold to pull the startled girl closer.
"I'm not finished," she whispered. Brilliant green eyes stared searchingly into her own cinnamon irises for a moment, studying her carefully. After several long breaths Harleen slowly nodded for Hermione to continue and the bushy haired witch offered a small, nervous smile before she took a deep breath and continued.
"Since I sat by your bed in the Hospital Wing Monday night I've been… I've been fighting with myself. A part of me, a really huge part of me, kept telling me to make a move on you. Ask you out, let you know I was interested at least… but I've been scared."
Harleen's head tilted to one side in confusion. "Is that what all these arguments have been about? Because you were scared? Scared of what?"
Sheepishly, Hermione nodded her head. "There are just so many things that could go wrong, and really, the idea of us not working as a couple, and possibly ruining the friendship that we have… that terrifies me."
She forced herself to look up, meeting Harleen's eyes again.
"You're the only thing that's made being here bearable. I was ready to write to my parents and ask them to pull me out of school the night you saved me from that troll. I couldn't bear it if we didn't work and I ended up losing the best friend I've ever had."
Harleen's face took on a considering expression, her brow furrowed, lips pursed in thought. Finally, her expression cleared and she offered a small smile.
"I can't explain why, but I feel confident that I can promise that as long as we talk, as long as we work together and support each other, there's no way that we won't work out. And if, for some reason, we didn't, you're far too important to me to ever lose your friendship."
"You can't really know that," Hermione whispered.
"I do. I know that to be absolutely true, I promise you," Harleen insisted.
Hermione huffed, frowning at Harleen's sudden and uncharacteristic optimism. Not that Harleen was normally a pessimist, but her absolute confidence was certainly out of the norm.
Though, with what she knows that she still hasn't told me, I guess I can't really rely on what's 'normal' for her. Not anymore, she thought.
"Hermione, do you trust me?"
She blinked, startled out of her thoughts by the sound of Harleen's voice and she focused her attention on the other girl again.
"Of course I do. I trust you with my life, Harleen."
"Then trust me on this? We can work. If you don't want to be with me, that's fine. It'll hurt, but I won't let that ruin our friendship. But if you do, if you want us to be more as badly as I do… please just… take a chance."
I do want you, Hermione thought, worry warring with desire. I've wanted to be with you for so long already and couldn't and now there's really a chance we could… what the hell is wrong with me?!
Taking a deep breath, Hermione resolved to shove aside her worries and take a page out of Harleen's new book. More than anything, where the beautiful girl in front of her was concerned, she wanted to be selfish.
"Okay."
The word slipped past her lips as the barest of whispers, almost inaudible, but the two girls were sitting so close, their faces only inches apart, that Harleen heard her clearly.
Harleen's eyes widened behind her glasses, the brilliant green of her irises sparkling in the light from the fire.
"Okay?" she breathed back hesitantly. It almost hurt Hermione to hear it. There was a naked longing in her tone and a sense of disbelief, as if she couldn't comprehend what the brunette witch had just said.
Resolutely, Hermione nodded her head.
"Okay," she repeated. "I'm… I'm terrified. I'm worried this will all blow up in my face, or that I'll wake up and it will all have been a dream but… I can't pretend I don't want this. I've been trying to give you space to adjust since you changed. I felt as if I would have been taking advantage of you if I'd tried anything or said anything. You've made your wishes very clear, Harleen Potter, and I'm done trying to argue with you and with myself."
She lifted one hand to cup Harleen's cheek, letting her thumb brush across the other girl's soft skin as her mind catalogued every detail she was able to process. The feel of her skin and warmth of her body seemed to stand out sharply in Hermione's awareness.
Leaning forward, she could hear the other girl's breath as it hitched in her throat. Before she could lose her nerve. Hermione shifted closer and gently pressed their lips together.
Absently, Hermione realized that the thought she'd had the day she first met Harry Potter held true now, just as it did then, her life was never going to be the same again.