Harry sat alone in Buckbeak's room at the very top of Grimmauld Place, feeding the Hippogriff dead rats. If someone had told him two days ago that his array of problems be rendered miniscule by a new one, he would not have believed them. Yet here he was, forcing himself to keep well away from Sirius and the Weasleys for fear of hurting them. He was dangerous. Mr. Weasley was already hospitalized because of him; he wasn't going to let it happen again. Worst of all, he would not be able to see Hermione again. She would not find out until she returned to Hogwarts, and who knows what will have become of him by then? He certainly couldn't return to Hogwarts, there were far too many innocent people there, Hermione included, and there was no way he was going to risk hurting her. Just a few days ago, the thought of spending the break without her had been disappointing enough, but she had assured him it would all be fine. They would come clean, and be able to fully embrace the relationship. All of a sudden, the idea of their separation being indefinite sunk in, and truly made his heart sink. However, the knowledge that it was for her protection provided some consolation, if only slight.
He tried desperately to ignore how hungry he felt as he watched Buckbeak chomp away on dead rats, but this was becoming increasingly more difficult. But he had to persevere, he wasn't going to go downstairs; they were surely all talking about him, and that was not something he wanted to walk in on. The look plastered on the Weasley kids' faces when they heard what Mad-Eye said at St. Mungo's was constantly replaying through his mind. Moody's words suddenly flashed through his mind. Dumbledore had not only known something like this could happen; he had expected it. Why then, had he not even attempted to prevent it? Sure, he had made Harry take those fruitless Occlumency lessons, but this was much more than his usual dreams. Dumbledore should have quarantined him. He would gladly co-operate if it meant the safety of his friends. Why now, had Dumbledore ordered him to stay at Grimmauld place? Any moment now, one, or more of its inhabitants could meet the same fate as Mr. Weasley. Did he truly think it safe? Did he know something he wasn't letting on? If so, why didn't he tell Harry instead of letting him stew like this? Harry was desperate for some information. Even if it confirmed what he had been thinking, what he had been fearing, it was better than this. At least he would know.
More than once he had heard someone calling his name up the stairs, but had ignored them. Clearly they weren't all that keen on actually finding him, it would not be that hard. He was hoping Sirius would come to find him however; he desperately wanted to talk to him about everything. From what he had seen of Sirius so far he did not seem overly concerned. This didn't surprise Harry though. He hadn't been at St. Mungo's. He hadn't heard what the rest of them had, though it had probably been mentioned in meetings of the Order. But he was still overjoyed at the prospect of having company for the Holidays; there was likely nothing that could cause him worry right now. Still, he was the only person Harry felt he could confide in.
Out of rats and completely sapped of energy, Harry leaned back against the wall, shutting his eyes and trying to push the intense hunger from his mind. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. Harry sprung back up to a sitting position. Perhaps it was Sirius finally looking for him? He hesitated. Another knock. Then came a voice that he had not at all expected; a voice that made his heart leap. It was Hermione. He sprang to his feet and ran to open the door, hardly daring to believe she could actually be there. He wrenched open the door, and there she stood. He had never been so glad to see her. All the Weasleys had seemed almost frightened to look or speak to him, but Hermione showed no sign if this, and somehow, he just knew she would be able to make sense of this whole mess. After quickly explaining how she ended up there instead of going off skiing, she dragged him off to his room, where Ron and Ginny were waiting. Despite the glimmer of hope residing in him, he couldn't help but feel bitter at the way they were both just staring at him.
Hermione wasted no time in starting the discussions, throughout which she showed almost no sign of concern; she was even making jokes. Harry was completely baffled at this. Perhaps she didn't understand what had happened at all; perhaps she had misinterpreted what she had been told by the others. He felt the small glimmer of hope fade away. Harry's bitterness only increased as they pressed on, and Ron and Ginny denied both avoiding him and speaking about him. It was only when Ginny explained what it was like to be possessed by Voldemort that something clicked. He had experienced nothing like her explanation. He wasn't being possessed at all. The possibility of his being transported there by Voldemort was proven false almost immediately by Hermione and confirmed by Ron. A rush of relief came over him, he could hardly believe it. It really had been nothing more than one of his usual visions. Now that he thought about it, he really should have been able to come to that conclusion himself; he suddenly felt quite silly. Seeing the look on Hermione's face as he caught her eye assured him that she knew how he felt too. He stared at her, both amazed and grateful at how well she had handled the situation. She flashed him a mischievous look that told him she was not going to let him forget the way he had acted today anytime soon, but he didn't care; his relief was far too great. He took a moment to look around, fully appreciating his position for the first time. He was going to be spending Christmas with Sirius, the Weasleys were all here, and best of all, Hermione was here. All of a sudden, the holidays seemed a whole lot brighter.