"Speakest thou the truthful word,
Dost thou swear it serpentine?
Or do I find thy secret lies,
Will haunt me for the rest of time?"
Monvagon Minchanton –" Creatures Words."
Chapter twelve: Of compromises and further drifting.
As Harry slowly moved his pawn to block an advance by Ginny's rook, he's mind begun to wander. He wondered how Sirius had managed to stay inside this house for the better part of a year, without losing it completely. Harry was sure that if he stayed there much longer, the memories would be enough to finish the job the Dementors had started when he was in that prison. He was hanging to his sanity by a thread.
The house had certainly been changed: it was now filled with clear rooms and airy spaces, no remains left of its gloomy past. But that wasn't enough for Harry to forget the past. He felt like he was continually drowning in painful memories and there was nothing he could do to save himself.
If it wasn't for Ginny's soothing presence and her continuous efforts to keep his mind busy by training, talking and studying, he was sure he would have already left, taking his chances with Voldemort and his minions.
And the truth of the matter was, bloody Ronald Weasley wasn't helping matters either. His whole family was now involved thanks to Ginny's intervention, and no one seemed to be able to talk any sense into his thick skull.
The twins were the first to give up, and had settled into simply making his life miserable as long as he continued to act like a selfish six year old (and that was probably insulting the poor child, thought Harry). Bill had stated quite plainly, and before half the Order, that if he couldn't act like an adult, he shouldn't expect to be treated like one. Harry was pretty sure Bill hadn't said five words stringed together to Ron since that declaration. The curse breaker was quite comfortably going about his business without acknowledging Ron's presence. Ron, on the other hand, seemed to be growing increasingly angry and hateful.
Harry wasn't very sure that what the Weasleys were doing would help the matter. As long as Ron was angry, he wouldn't apologize, and they wouldn't be able to move on with their lives…
The only person in this whole affair that had remained loyal to him was Hermione. Harry had seen her, every now and then, shooting him apologetic glances, behind Ron's back. She wouldn't however, come and talk to him, and that was something Harry was starting to get annoyed with and not a little hurt.
It was safe to say that the atmosphere at Grimmauld place was tense. Harry knew that it was only a matter of time before someone really lost it, and then it wouldn't be pretty.
As Ginny moved her queen, putting Harry in quite an uncomfortable position, Molly Weasley burst into the room, saying urgently, "Harry, dear, there you are, I've been looking for you all over the place! Hurry, Professor Dumbledore wants to have a word with you."
Harry didn't move for a few seconds. Ginny saw the anger flashing in his eyes, and half expected the waves of tightly controlled magic that came next. Except it never came, and she was not a little amazed at how well he was controlling his emotions. His face was as mysterious as a closed book, and even his eyes were now cold and unreadable.
He was seething inside, wondering if the headmaster expected him to be ready to answer his every call and whim. He chose, however, not to fight the summons, and go talk to Dumbledore. After all, who knew, maybe they could find some sort of agreement, maybe they could work together. Those may be childish hopes, but Harry really wished it were possible. Voldemort had already won, if they fought amongst themselves.
His headmaster was seated in the kitchen table, calmly sipping a cup of tea as if nothing was the matter. He smiled warmly when he saw the young man coming in, but the expression faltered when he saw the look in his pupil's eyes.
"Good afternoon, Harry. I trust you are better than the last time we met?" The old man could still remember the pain Harry had been in during his stay in the Hogwarts infirmary.
"I'm as well as can be expected under the circumstances, Professor. Might I ask what it is you want with me, sir?" Harry thought he saw a small flicker of hurt in the wizened wizard's face, and he felt guilt tearing at his heart. But he controlled his emotions, and reasoned that what Dumbledore had done was much worse than his own abruptness.
"No time for pleasantries, then. Very well. I wanted to discuss your timetable with you, Harry. For your next school year."
When Harry heard that, he felt like laughing aloud. The headmaster himself, come all the way to Grimmauld place to discuss his schedule? Of course, as if he had nothing better to do.
"Really, sir?" he asked, letting a little of the scepticism he felt appear in his voice and demeanour. "You came all the way here simply to have me fill in a form?"
Dumbledore laughed at his question, and answered lightly, "I was already around, Harry, so it wasn't a long trip. Furthermore, I wished to check in on you, see how you were doing."
Harry's face closed off even further, his eyes resembling two chips of silver fire. This did not escape the headmaster notice: it only worried him further. Harry needed training, desperately, urgently. They couldn't let him lose himself in the magic, couldn't let it consume him. Dumbledore was in fact quite impressed with the amount of control Harry had over himself and his powers… He hadn't needed to solve any magical emergency yet, and Harry had been released from Hogwarts a whole week before.
"Thank you for your concern, Professor, as you can see, I'm fine. Hermione told me I had to fill in some kind of form? And I will need to go to Diagon Alley as well: I have some things to do there that can't be postponed indefinitely." Dumbledore noticed the not so subtle change of subject, but didn't press the issue further. He would let Harry have his way in this conversation.
"Here is the form you have to fill, Harry," he said, handing the boy a piece of parchment and a self inking quill, "Why don't you complete it, and we can then work on your schedule, as there are a few other classes, training mostly, that I would like you to attend." He didn't mention Diagon Alley. Harry wouldn't be going there if he had a say in the matter.
Harry looked at the paper. In it were listed all the classes he was eligible to take at a NEWT level, as well as a recommendation for students not to enter more than five, or at the utmost six classes, since the workload and class-time was very important in each and every subject.
He scanned the list, and finally decided on following the path he had discussed with McGonagall the year before, at least for the time being. There would be time to worry about other possible carriers later on, now he needed to work on his battle skills, and on staying alive. He circled Transfiguration, Charms, - after the slightest hesitation - Potions, Defence against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures and finally Duelling, something he had qualified for since he had pulled off an O in DADA. It sounded interesting anyway. He signed the paper, and it immediately transformed into his list of necessary items for the next term. He would take care of those once he was in Diagon Alley.
He turned back towards Dumbledore expectantly. "What else did you wish to discuss with me Professor?"
"First of all, Professor McGonagall asked me to deliver this to you, with a strict warning that she expected the cup to remain in her office, seeing as she has become quite fond of it."
Harry smiled delightedly when he was handed the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain badge. It was something he had always wanted, and yet half-expected never to get. After all, there were other people with a much vaster knowledge of the game that might… But he wouldn't think about that now, he was simply glad that for once he had a responsibility that he might actually enjoy.
The headmaster was pleased to see a smile in Harry's face for the first time since he had got back. He let the boy flavour it for a few moments before continuing, "On to some more serious business, Harry: I would like you to follow some extra training this year, with your Defence and your Duelling professors. Twice a week, about two hours after dinner. Is that acceptable to you?"
"That means I would have only three free evenings… Professor, how am I supposed to keep up with my homework? And with Quidditch?"
Smiling, the headmaster said, "You'll notice, Harry, that with your knowledge of magic deepening, you'll be able to keep up with your usual classes quite easily."
"If you say so…" Harry mumbled.
"Furthermore, I would like to train you as well a few hours every week. I'll find a few hours on your schedule and let you know when you are at Hogwarts. Is that agreeable to you as well?"
"I'm agreeable to anything that doesn't involve Snape, Headmaster." Harry said forcefully, and he was most serious about it. He'd have to deal with the man enough as it was, during classes; he wasn't going to subject himself to his abuse during his free time.
Dumbledore smiled and said, "I was going to ask him to further your Occlumency training, however, I think I shall assume that responsibility. You'll have classes together with Miss Weasley, since she needs to master the skill as well."
Harry simply nodded his consent, a little worried about how he would manage to cope with all of this, in addition to Quidditch, and the DA, that he would be starting again.
"Very well, Professor, I'll do as you ask," his voice was by no means warm, but the outward coldness that had been there had faded considerably, "I do have a request of my own, however. I will be continuing the DA this year, as the Defence Association, and I want to make it an official club. I trust this won't be difficult?"
"I would like to think that with a decent Professor, that wouldn't be needed. Don't you have enough on your plate already, Harry?" Dumbledore asked concernedly.
"Do you allow the club or not, Professor?" Harry asked, staring hard at the old man.
"Is this some kind of ultimatum Harry? Either I allow the club, or you won't follow the training?" The headmaster said this extremely calmly, but there was a strong disappointment in his expression. "Do you not wish to do this?"
Harry's eyes flashed, and he said, angrily, "Of course I want to train, Professor, I've done nothing but train since I heard the blasted prophecy, all on my own. However, I have come to realize two things during this summer: that I can't fight this war alone, and that war doesn't only come to those that are ready for it. I want to be sure that as many people as possible are prepared to defend themselves when or if they are attacked. Furthermore, I want to know that there are at least a small number of people at Hogwarts that I am able to trust unconditionally. Mione will make sure there are no traitors in our ranks, and I'll make sure they know what to do when the time comes."
When Harry saw that the headmaster wasn't inclined to accept his project – probably didn't feel comfortable sharing even that small amount of power over his students – Harry got annoyed. Hi eyes hardened, and his face became a blank mask. "I'll be doing this, Professor, whether you give me your permission or not. You know that we are quire adept at sneaking around; we have been doing it this far. It would be much more productive, however, if the club were out in the open, it isn't, however, necessary for it to be."
"You aren't leaving me much of a choice Harry." The headmaster said, quietly, so as not to anger him further.
"You didn't either, Professor." At this, the old man's gaze that had been wondering through the room snapped back to Harry. There had been an inflection in the boy's voice, a small hint of accusation that made Dumbledore wonder what exactly it was that he knew.
"What do you mean, Harry?"
Harry answered with a question of his own: "What has been going on in the Order Professor?"
Dumbledore was silent, wondering how or if Harry had managed to listen in to a meeting. Had someone grown relapse with the warding of the room?
"You know, Professor, you could have saved yourself the trouble and simply asked me what you wanted to know." Harry said, his voice still freezing, but the slightest bit of hurt and disappointment appearing in his whole countenance.
There was his answer: Harry had listened, and to the worst possible one.
"Would you have told me what I wanted to know, Harry?"
"Probably not everything. Some things, at least, I might have. In exchange for your confidence; after all, you had promised to keep me on the loop. Now, however, I don't know who to trust, Professor. I certainly can't trust you."
Dumbledore's face registered not a little amount of surprise. This was a new aspect altogether of Harry. And he wasn't, truth be told, used to having it said to his face that he wasn't trustworthy.
"I am sorry to hear that, Harry."
"You're sorry?" Harry gave a bark of laughter. "Is that all you have to tell me, Dumbledore? That you're sorry?" Harry glared daggers at the other man.
"What do you want from me, Harry? I've been doing my best to keep you safe, and allowing you to lead a normal life."
"That isn't nearly good enough!" Harry growled. "We're at war, Professor, and whether you want it or not, I'm in the centre of it. I am, not you, sir. I would expect, given the circumstances, to be kept on the loop, to have enough information to be able to make clear decisions instead of diving into the unknown headfirst, hoping to get out of it alive. We need information, in order to do the right choices, taking the whole picture into account." Harry was breathing hard as he finished his little tirade. He was hanging in to the back of a chair with such strength that his knuckles had turned white and the small glow of power was encompassing his hands.
Dumbledore was silent for a long time. He was surprised, shocked. He had forgotten whom it was he was dealing with. This was the boy that had escaped from Voldemort's stronghold after two weeks of torture. All alone. Not a simple student that he could lead by the nose.
"Do you understand, Professor?" Harry continued. "Empty promises are no longer good enough. I want to be able to chose, to have a say in any decisions that concerns me. You had assured me, Professor, that that wouldn't be an issue anymore. Have you kept your promises?"
It was hard to admit, but Harry was right. More than a week had passed, yet he had said nothing, had conducted Order meetings under his nose, and had not deigned tell him what was said and what was discussed. Harry deserved an apology; otherwise he risked losing even the small amount of trust the boy had placed on him.
"You are right, Harry, and I apologise. I am an old man, and old habits are hard to break. You'll have to forgive me." He said, smiling comfortingly.
"That isn't good enough either, Professor. I need more than and apology." Harry said, looking the professors straight in the eyes, unblinking.
"Of course, I would expect nothing less from you, Harry."
Harry took a deep breath, controlling his ragging emotions that were ordering him to walk away and forget Dumbledore and his Order. The more reasonable part of him, in the other hand, ordered him to stay and work out some kind of truce. He needed Dumbledore's advice, he needed his training and his help, he didn't however, need to be guided every step of the way.
"Very well, Professor, what is going on?"
Dumbledore hesitated for a long moment, and finally said, "I would be much more comfortable discussing this after you have finished your Occlumency training. It would simply not do for Voldemort to find out just how much the Order knows. I'm sorry, Harry."
Dumbledore was surprised at how fast the atmosphere of the room changed, and the stifling feel of magic overwhelmed his senses. Harry, that had finally relaxed enough to sit down, sprang up once more, and said, his voice low and dangerous, "Were you not there when I told you that Voldemort doesn't control my mind anymore? Were you not there when I assured you that he didn't even know the contents of the Prophecy? It is rewarding to see the confidence you have in my words, sir."
Harry stopped talking for a moment, and just glared, trying to decide if it was worth it to try to convince Dumbledore. He finally continued. "I had hopped that my proficiency to defend my mind even in the physical presence of Voldemort would be enough to convince you. But if you aren't willing to take my word for it, by all means, do test my abilities yourself."
The headmaster nodded, and almost casually, with no warning whatsoever, pointed his wand at Harry and whispered, "Legilimens."
Harry was taken completely by surprise, and even stumbled backwards a few steps. This wasn't Dumbledore's silky touch, almost undetectable; this was Dumbledore trying to prove a point. Well, Harry wasn't going to let him do it!
It was a good thing Harry kept up mental barriers at all times, otherwise Dumbledore's first assault would have been his downfall. The magic crashed against his mind like a tidal wave. And he almost caved in.
Concentrating, Harry found his centre, and his focus. Breathing evenly, he called for his magic, and as it had never done before, it answered. Harry was used to having a few slight wisps of magic at his disposal when reinforcing his barriers. Today, he felt like he had enough power at his hands to construct a fortress. For a fleeting moment he wondered what was happening to his powers, before he focused once again in the task at hand.
Dumbledore, as he conducted his mental assault, saw the slight glow that Ginny had already seen once, slowly surround Harry's body. The resistance he was encountering was amazing, much stronger than anything he had ever seen in a student. Not at all what he had expected, considering Severus's reports.
After a few minutes, he broke off the attack, not having, even for a second, managed to breach the barriers. Harry stumbled as the pressure was relieved, and leaned against the wall, completely winded.
The shields were by no means what one might call usual or traditional Occlumency shields. They were undoubtedly, however, just as efficient. It was held mostly by willpower, and Harry obviously had that in spades. How the boy had managed to construct that on his own, however, was a question running through his mind.
"Very good, Harry. How did you construct your defences? Who helped you? Have you been in contact with anyone this summer?"
"No one helped me!" Harry snapped. "Snape did mostly the contrary. I worked with a few books, and mostly messed around until I found a method that worked for me. Are you satisfied now, Headmaster?" Harry asked scathingly.
"I am, Harry. What do you want to know?" Dumbledore didn't rise to the bait, and didn't react to Harry's tone.
"Right now, no thanks to you, I know all I need to know. I hope in the future you won't withhold essential information from me." Harry glared and, without another word, started to storm out of the kitchen. He stopped at the door, however, and said, through gritted teeth, "I will be going to Diagon Alley sometime next week. If you want to send someone with me, let me know, otherwise, I shall go alone. I don't care one way or the other."
"Harry!" Dumbledore exclaimed, standing up for the first time. "You can't leave the house, it's not safe!"
"I wasn't asking, Dumbledore, I was stating a fact. As far as I know, I am not a prisoner, nor are you my legal guardian. You can't keep me here."
"Do you want to get caught again, Harry? I thought you knew better."
"I don't plan to get caught. And I won't let Voldemort hinder my life. I can take care of myself."
"Harry…" Said Dumbledore, his voice pleading.
"This matter isn't open for discussion, sir. I was letting you know that I have business to take care of at the Alley, and that I would be going there sometime next week. Nothing else. Goodbye, sir."
With those words, Harry turned around and left the room, leaving a frustrated and slightly scared man behind.
…
The door to the study Ginny was in burst open, and Harry stormed in. Things hadn't gone too well at the meeting, then, Ginny thought. Especially if the flash in Harry's eyes and his inability to stand still were anything to go by. Her heart constricted when she realized that, more than angry, Harry was hurt.
Cursing Dumbledore under her breath, she motioned for him to come and sit beside her in the couch. She wanted to know what had happened, but first she needed Harry to calm down some.
He sat, but didn't look at her. She wondered if he was even aware that she was there. He simply let his head fall in his hands, and tried to get a grip on his emotions. Ginny hesitated for a moment, wondering if maybe she should simply leave Harry alone for a while, let him deal with things. But finally, she decided to stay. She was his friend, and she wouldn't leave him alone when he so obviously wasn't fine.
She tentatively reached forward, and put a comforting hand in his hunched back, rubbing it soothingly. She could feel his heartbeat and his quick breathing under her fingers, and it calmed her, knowing that he was there, even if he was an emotional wreck. She waited until he had calmed enough for his hands to stop shaking, and said, "I take it the meeting didn't go well?"
"Understatement, Gin." Harry mumbled, his voice muffled by his hands.
She didn't want to force him, but she felt compelled to ask, "Do you want to talk about it?"
He sighed deeply, and let his head fall back on the couch, closing his eyes. Ginny felt that he was trying to run away from this whole situation, that all he wanted at the moment was to get as far away from that house and those people as he possibly could. It scared her, for she wondered how much longer he could stand, before he snapped and simply walked away. As far away as he possibly could.
It took a while, but finally he started talking. "Dumbledore…was being Dumbledore. Why does he insist in treating me like a child, Gin? Why does he continue to keep me in the dark? After everything that's happened, everything I've been through, he only sees the stupid eleven year old that arrived at Hogwarts and knew nothing about magic."
He grew silent, but Ginny knew better than to interrupt him. She knew he wasn't done yet.
"He knows this is my war, and that I can't possibly fight it without information. He knows it will eventually come down to me, and only me." He gave a mirthless laugh as he continued. "Believe me, this point was brought home pretty effectively last June. Then why doesn't he let me loose? Why?"
Ginny started as she heard the last bit of his diatribe. What did Harry know? What did Dumbledore know that they didn't? He sounded so sure! She was torn between asking, and waiting for Harry to tell her in his own time. Of course, she'd always had a slight suspicion, but it was never confirmed…
Finally her curiosity won, and she asked, "How can you be so sure, Harry? What exactly does Dumbledore know that we don't?"
Harry flinched, and shot her a panicky look. It was obvious he thought he had said too much. Indeed, at the end, Ginny was pretty sure he had forgotten she was in the room, and was talking mostly for his own benefit.
For a moment, Ginny thought he was simply going to change the subject, and she would have to let it drop. But soon a sort of calm fell over his countenance, and he seemed to reach a decision. A moment latter he said, his voice cool and detached, as if he was reciting a well learned lesson, something that he had gone over so many times in his mind that he could go over it even tied up and half dead.
"You remember the prophecy that smashed at the Department of Mysteries?" She nodded and he continued. "Well, that copy was gone, but the Headmaster had heard it from the source, the Seer herself gave it to him, many years ago, just before I was born."
"Who was the Seer?" Ginny asked, noticing that he was starting to struggle with whatever it was he was trying to say.
"Trelawney," said Harry, "amazing, right?" She nodded.
"Well, he showed it to me, when we came back. After… After Sirius." He got a grip on himself once more, and continued. "In short, it says that I'm the only one with the power to vanquish Voldemort, that I have some sort of mysterious power, and that, someday – soon I think – we'll have to face each other, and one of us will not walk out alive. Kill or be killed, basically."
Ginny nodded, signalling that she had heard what he said. It took her a while longer to process everything. So, as it was, she had been right, and her gut feeling had just been confirmed. It didn't change anything. Not really, she told herself. And with that thought, she turned to Harry and said, "Well, Harry, this isn't such a huge surprise, after all. I had always half expected it to be you. After all, you're the one that saved me from Tom, and defeated him all those years ago. It's logical that you're the one that will have to finish off the job."
He gave a mirthless laugh at this.
"Well, I never expected anything of the sort. I always assumed it would be Dumbledore – you should have seen him duel at the ministry, Ginny, a sight to see – maybe the Order or the Aurors. No. I never thought it would be me." He was shaking his head despondently as he said it."
She smiled comfortingly, and took his hand, squeezing it lightly. "It will be hard Harry, but you won't do this alone. We'll train and study and work our asses off until you're ready for this. You might be the one to the actual Dark Lord chopping, but we'll be there by your side every step of the way."
"We Gin?" he asked, even if he did smile slightly after what she said. "I don't see anyone else in the room."
Sighing exasperatedly, Ginny replied, "Yes Harry, we. Ron's being a prat, but he'll have to come round eventually, and Mione's still your friend, she just thinks that Ron needs her attention right now." Smiling cockily, she continued, "Ron gets Mione, and you get me. Come on, it isn't such a bad deal! At least I don't make you study by force during the holidays!"
Harry grinned, and answered, "That's all a bunch of excuses and you know it Gin. The fact of the matter is that Mione can't keep her eyes off Ron, and is neglecting poor old me!"
"Oh! Ickle Harry is feeling neglected? Isn't there anything I can do to help solve your little problem?" She asked, while laughing delightedly.
Harry slid closer to her as he said, softly, making Ginny's heart catch. "Umm, I think a kiss would probably solve a big part of my problems…"
"You think so?" She answered, leaning closer to him. "I believe I could help you, then."
Ginny was about to do as he had asked, that is, kissing him senseless, when the door burst open once more and her brother Bill walked in. The two of them jumped apart guiltily.
Bill seeing this, grinned broadly and asked roguishly, "Am I interrupting anything little Gin-Gin?" he laughed at her disgruntled glare and continued. "You should have posted a notice at the door, so no one would bother you." Then, frowning mischievously, "Is there anything I should know about? You know, I have to fulfil my big brother duties and all…"
"Bill!" Ginny growled, "There was nothing going on that concerns you!" The way his sister was looking at a blushing Harry, and how her eyes were sparkling madly betrayed her however, as far as Bill was concerned.
"Okay, little sis, I was just asking!" He was smiling broadly, however, seeing his sister that happy was a rare thing. "Mum sent me to call you, by the way – dinner will be served in five. You two coming?"
…
That night, when most of the household was already tucked in bed, Hermione quietly crossed the corridor that separated her room from Harry's, careful not to crack any floorboards and not to make any noise, lest she wake Ron up.
She found the person she was looking seating before a roaring fire, even though it was the middle of summer. His feet were pulled under him, and he had a book propped on his knees. That was new. The Harry she knew didn't usually read for pleasure.
He didn't move when she entered, and did nothing whatsoever to acknowledge her presence, even once she was seated. She waited until he lifted his eyes to her face, before saying, "Hello, Harry"
"Hi Hermione. How nice of you to drop by. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Harry's voice was quiet when he said this, but she felt the badly hidden sarcasm. When had Harry become sarcastic? Hermione felt like she was missing in an essential part of her friend's life, and it hurt her more than she was willing to admit.
"I-I wanted to talk to you." She said hesitantly, her first eagerness slightly damped by his detached response.
"I wanted to talk to you too. A pity it has to be in the middle of the night, don't you think? A pity we have to hide." He was staring at her fixedly, and she felt uncomfortable, fighting the urge to fidget.
"What happened to us, Harry? Why did we let it come down to this?" She sighed heavily. "Since when do I have to creep up to your room to try to have a conversation with you? This is ridiculous!"
Harry didn't answer for quite some time, but then said, with a twinge of bitterness in his voice, "I would like nothing more than to talk to you Hermione. The only thing stopping you from doing that is yourself."
"You know that's not true, Harry! Ron -"
"Is acting like a selfish prat, Hermione." Harry interrupted harshly. "And yet you chose to stay by his side… Why Mione? I though you knew better. Or is there something else to be taken into account? Something you aren't telling us?"
"I don't agree with what Ron has been doing, Harry!"
"Then why?" They were silent a moment, before Harry said, lowering his eyes. "I needed you, Mione. I needed my friends, when I got back, and you both turned your backs on me. If it weren't for Ginny…" He stopped, and lifted his gaze.
"I understood the message, Hermione. It was crystal clear. From now on, if any of you want to get close, the effort will have to come from your side. I'm done, Hermione. I have too much to deal with right now, to lose my time and energy on Ron's petty emotional issues. And you seem to have chosen a side too, so…"
"Harry, it's not like this!" She exclaimed, pleading. "I didn't want to have to choose between my friends, Harry! That isn't fair, I thought you understood!"
"But you have chosen, Hermione. Don't you see? You chose Ron! I understand, Mione, really, I do, and under normal circumstances I would have been more than happy that the two of you are finally working things out. You did always see him as more than a friend, didn't you? And I won't even mention Ron… He's been crazy about you since fourth year, I think. Maybe even before…" He shook his head, as if to clear it from the memories, and turned back to the matter at hand. "I hope everything works out for you, Mione, for the both of you. But I can't- I can't deal with this right now. I had promised Ginny I'd try, but I can't anymore, not after today. I have so much to do! And I'm just too tired." Too hurt, too, but he didn't say it aloud.
They sat, and uncomfortable silence seemed to fall in the room. Finally, Harry said, "You should go, Mione. It wouldn't do for Ron to find you out of bed."
"I don't want to go, Harry. I – you're one of my closest friends, almost my brother! What happened, Harry? We were so good together!" She was blinking furiously, trying to stop the tears from falling. She didn't want to cry, not right now. She was stronger than that!
"Yeah, we were." He smiled slightly, but his voice still had a bitter twinge to it. "We could even have given the marauders a run for their money. Voldemort happened, Hermione. And Ron's stupid jealousy happened. And now, here we are, meeting secretly, in the middle of the night." Trying to salvage the last tatters of their friendship. Not that there was much left to work with, Harry thought.
"Do you think," she seemed to hesitate for a moment, "do you think things will ever be the same again? Do you think everything will go back to normal?"
"That would depend greatly on your definition of normal, Mione."
"The golden trio, like we used to be?"
"I'm still here, Hermione. I would like nothing better than to have my friends back. And by back, I don't mean empty houses at the dead of the night. I mean really back. But we wouldn't be a trio anymore." He smiled, the first true sign of emotion she had seen in him that evening.
"Why? What would we be?" She asked, curious.
"A quartet, maybe." He laughed at the possibilities. But sobered quickly enough when he realized the reason for this discussion. "Ginny, right now, is the only person by my side. She stayed a true friend, even when it felt like the entire word was crumbling around me. I won't simply turn my back on her because the two of you decide to stop acting like babies and come strolling back into my life." He shook his head. "No, I could never do that to her, I owe her too much. She'll become part of our group, or there won't be a group. At least one that I'm part of."
Mione sighed heavily.
"Ron won't be pleased. She's his baby sister."
Harry's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Right now, I couldn't care less what Ron thinks. He lost that privilege long ago, Hermione. He's much more of a baby than Ginny ever was. At least she cares!"
Hermione looked guilty and said defensively, "I have nothing against Ginny, Harry. She's one of my only female friends! It's just that this will make things with Ron even more difficult."
"Then Ron will simply have to deal with it, won't he?" Harry snapped.
After several minutes of uneasy silence on Hermione's part and quiet thinking on Harry's, the girl could take it no longer, and standing up, said goodbye quietly.
Harry just nodded, barely acknowledging her presence in the room anymore. He was quietly losing himself in his thoughts, hoping that sleep would come for him soon.
Hermione shut the door quietly, and with faint footsteps made her way back. She felt like all she did lately was go back to her room to cry.
