Everyone stared after him in shock, except Hermione, who shot a glare at the Headmaster and hurried after her husband.
When Hermione caught up to Harry, she wasn't surprised to feel that the air around him was warming up, though the look of intense concentration on his face confused her. "Harry?" She asked tentatively.
Harry didn't stop walking or look towards her when he replied, "I can feel the griffin trying to escape. He wants to tear at someone, and right now the preference is Dumbledore. I can barely keep it contained. I'm going to the Room of Requirement so it will give me somewhere I can rage. Please don't follow me."
Hermione wanted to argue, to be there for him, but she knew he needed to feel like he could let go without worrying about actually hurting someone, so she simply murmured, "Alright Harry. I'm here for you." Feeling his relief assured her that she was doing the right thing, though she found it difficult to head to their room when he went to the Room of Requirement.
When Harry made it to the Room of Requirement, he requested a place where he could let go and rage. When he opened the door, he was shocked and angered to find Dumbledore talking to Ron, saying, "You should get close to Harry, you two would make excellent friends, I'm sure. And just think, if you were friends, imagine the money he would spend on gifts."
It was the final straw for Harry, who almost immediately became a griffin and let out an enraged roar. Had he been less angry, he would have enjoyed the look of horror on their faces, but at that particular moment, he just wanted to rend them limb from limb or turn them to ash, whichever.
The animal part of him enjoyed the fear of his prey, reveling in the horror as the table they had been sitting at combusted in flames. He could smell it on them, and they smelled delicious soaked in fear. Snapping open his wings, he leaped into the air, circling his prey overhead. Then suddenly, with another roar, he was upon them. It was over in seconds, and Harry-though covered in blood-felt cleansed of his anger. He probably would have felt guilty, but without his anger clouding his judgement he knew it was just a simulation by the room. A few quick cleaning charms later, and he was headed to the room he shared with his wife.
When he got there, he wasn't at all surprised to find her pacing the room, clearly worried. As soon as she saw him, she gave him one of her custom hugs, exclaiming, "Harry!" Apparently, not even knowing what he was going to do was enough for her, as she immediately started asking questions. "What happened? Do you feel better? Why are you back so quick?"
Harry took a moment tolaugh at the typical way Hermione fired her questions before replying. "I feel better, I'm back so quick because what happened was quick, and what happened was I killed Dumbledore and Ron." He took a moment to let her think he meant it literally before laying her fears to rest. "Relax, it was just a simulation in the Room of Requirement, I didn't actually do anything."
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed him tighter for a moment before asking, "What are we going to do?"
Harry heaved a heavy sigh at the question. "I assume you're referring to our resident manipulator and the red-headed pawn?" He asked, receiving a snort of amusement at his description of Ron and a nod at the question. "I don't know," he replied. "All I can think of is trying to avoid them for right now. Do you have any ideas?"
"Well," Hermione began, "I would suggest enlisting the twins' help, but we have no idea if they're in on it. But what about Remus?" She asked mischievously, and Harry could almost feel the evil smirk he was sure she sported at that moment.
"I like it!" He replied almost immediately. He pulled back for a moment, and leaned in to give Hermione a quick kiss on the lips before he whispered to her, "I'm glad I don't have to worry about your honesty. I know you'll always be honest and there for me."
Hermione just pulled him back into the crushing hug, whispering back, "Always."
The next day, they made a floo call to Remus using the fireplace in their room, and were quite gratified at the rage the werewolf displayed when they explained who they wanted to prank and why. After he had calmed down, he asked the most important question, "Why did Dumbledore want you to be friends with Ron?"
Harry glanced to Hermione, who glanced at Harry, before looking back to Remus. "We don't know," they replied in unison.
"We need to find that out," Remus said, pacing and looking down thoughtfully. "Both the Weasleys and Dumbledore are different, there's no denying that, but they're also both reputed to be Light. I just can't figure out what that old man was trying to accomplish," he finished, shaking his head and still pacing.
"Maybe he was trying to prevent Harry from going Dark," Hermione mused thoughtfully. "If he was friends with someone from a Light family, he'd hardly be willing to go Dark and attack them."
Harry snorted. "That doesn't even make sense. If I was going to go Dark, friends wouldn't matter in the slightest."
"Unless he knew how you grew up, and assumed you would attach yourself to the first person who seemed friendly to you," Hermione pointed out.
Remus immediately stopped pacing and his head snapped up as his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean, 'how he grew up'?" He asked darkly.
Hermione glanced to Harry, her expression a mixture of an apology and a request to tell him; she wasn't going to make the same mistake she had with her mother. Harry sighed and nodded, but excused himself and pulled his head out of the fire. Hermione looked back to Remus, who was clearly expecting a response, and asked, "Do you know how the Malfoys treated Dobby?" Remus's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he nodded, expecting Hermione to say that Harry hadn't been treated much better. Instead, she said, "He was treated worse."
"Worse?" He yelled. Taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself, he demanded through clenched teeth, "Explain."
"You might want to sit down," Hermione said, waiting for him to do so before beginning. "He was trained to cook and clean at two, but was lucky if he got a meal a day and lived in a cupboard under the stairs. He did the laundry, but all of his clothes were hand-me-downs from Dudley. He's had more broken bones at one time than most people have had in total. The worst, though, is that from the ages of five to ten, he attempted to kill himself on Christmas and his birthday every year. Magic kept him alive every time," Hermione said, crying unashamedly by this point. Remus looked ready to commit murder.
As though to prove it, he shouted, "I'll kill them!"
Hermione shook her head. "You can't. They're already dead."
Remus looked at her, surprise clearly written on his face. "Dumbledore didn't tell you?"
"Tell us what?" Hermione asked cautiously.
When Hermione pulled her head out of the fire, Harry wasn't surprised to see tear tracks on her face. He was however, surprised by the anger in her expression. "Hermione?" He asked, worried. "What's wrong?"
"Dumbledore!" She spat. "Apparently, the Dursleys are alive and well-they weren't home when the house was attacked and there was a muggle-repelling charm on the house, which explained why no one saw what happened. And that bloody bastard kept it from us!" She ranted, now pacing angrily.
Harry wasn't sure if he was more shocked that the Dursleys were still alive, that Dumbledore hadn't tried to force him to go back to them, or that Hermione was swearing. Not sure what he was supposed to do, or feel, he just stood there, shocked by the new information. He wasn't angry, or sad, just shocked. Suddenly, he snapped out of it and turned to Hermione, who was still pacing and muttering angrily under her breath. "Hermione," he said, startling her, "Does it really matter? What would we have done with the information?"
"I would have taken my dad's shotgun and seen how they liked their arms blown off," she answered unhesitatingly, and with a startling vehemence. At least, startling to him; anyone else would have been in perfect agreement with her.
"Hermione, isn't that a bit excessive?" He asked tentatively.
Hermione just stared at him. Was he really saying what he thought she was? "Harry, I'll be perfectly frank, I think that's less than they deserve. If I wouldn't be sent to Azkaban and separated from you, I would love nothing more than to experiment with the cruciatus on them," she answered, totally blowing him away.
"Hermione, they're not worth it," Harry said, taking her into his arms. "They're in the past now, and that's where they're going to stay. Although, pranking them every now and again couldn't hurt," he said with a grin.
After a few more mumbled expressions of hatred, Hermione sighed, saying, "Alright, Harry. I'll go easy on them for you."
"Thanks, love," he whispered in her ear. "Shall we go to bed?" He asked gently. They'd had plenty of surprises for the day, and he wanted to go to bed before they had any more. Feeling Hermione nod against his chest, he gently lifted her and carried her to the bed where he gently laid her down and kissed her lips gently. At least, his intent was gentle. However, Hermione was having none of it and it quickly became a passionate snog.
After a few moments, Hermione was tugging insistently at his shirt, but quickly gave up with a growl and simply vanished their clothes. Before, Harry would have expected it to be awkward, but it somehow seemed like the most natural thing in the world at that time. He soon found his mouth at one breast, his right hand at the other, and his left hand a bit lower. The most exciting part for Harry right then was hearing Hermione's reaction. Or it was, until she reached lower, too.
A while later, the two of them were asleep in each other's arms, totally spent.
The rest of the week passed mostly uneventfully; they ignored Dumbledore and Ron, and left the pranks to the last true Marauder. The only thing that had truly changed was that they were exploring the physical aspect of their relationship more, and Harry was getting more and more nervous as the Hogsmeade weekend approached. Finally, the day arrived, and Harry-though trying to put on a brave face-was pretty twitchy.
In one of the carriages, Hermione leaned over to him and whispered, "Relax, Harry," before kissing any worries out of his mind. By the time they got to Hogsmeade, they both looked like they had taken a ride on the Knight Bus.
After a quick stop at the Three Broomsticks, Harry and Hermione headed to the bookstore, Hermione's favorite place in Hogsmeade. At first, she tried to dissuade him, thinking he was only doing it for her, but when he mentioned that he needed to learn more spells, shields, and types of magical transportation, she quickly caved.
For the first hour or so, nothing really happened; they just sat quietly at the table looking through various books. At some point, though, Harry felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to find a very nervous but determined-looking girl who had a poster in one hand and appeared to have dragged her mother in with here. Smiling down at her, he said, "Hi, I'm Harry Potter. What's your name?"
"Sarah," said the girl quietly. At this point, Hermione finally noticed that someone had come to their table, but just sat back and quietly watched.
Harry, still smiling, gently asked, "How can I help you, Sarah?"
The little girl looked up at her mother for some confidence, and received the encouraging smile she had looked for. Taking a deep breath, Sarah asked quickly, "Canyousignmyposterplease?"
Harry chuckled at her nervousness as he tried not to grimace at the thought of a poster and an autograph, but he replied, "Yes, I will, Sarah." So saying, he gently took the poster of him, laid it on the table, signed it, and handed it back to the wide-eyed girl.
The mother had caught his eye, and was mouthing a thank you when a voice he recognized yelled "Avada Kedavra!" Causing the mother whose name he didn't know to fall lifelessly to the ground. Harry had been right; Death Eaters were attacking Hogsmeade.