Harry is stupidly powerful. Like nothing this world should allow. And he came up with the idea of an antidote! As clever as he isn't, there's probably something there.
Class finally ended, once we'd sat through a multitude of pointless, egregious presentations. Next was Charms.
As we walked to class together, hand-in-hand, Harry cast me several curious glances. I pretended not to notice, keeping my gaze forward as we arrived to class.
"You're being uncharacteristically shady," he prodded as we took our seats. "For recent you, at least."
"It's a surprise. Just be patient," I insisted as Flitwick began his lecture.
It's not all that shocking of an idea. I figure if he has that latent power, it must express itself for certain reasons, or in certain circumstances. For example, last night when all the lights went out at once, NOW I know it was because he was feeling scared of falling in love with me. The fear that kind of new experience can inspire must've triggered it. With his aunt, it was definitely anger. The first time he Legillimensed me in my sleep, he'd seen me crying immediately before, so it must've been concern. Any strong emotion seems to set it off.
If he can only learn to intentionally use those kinds of emotions, it might be like a muscle he can train.
Seeing me so lost in thought, Harry slid a note onto my desk.
'Why do I have a feeling you're plotting something I won't like?'
I smirked.
'You have nothing to worry about. Don't you trust me?'
'I followed you down a dark tunnel into a cave, didn't I?'
'And how did that turn out?'
'Fine I guess'
'Exactly. Now pay attention'
Harry's pout was adorable, but I didn't indulge him anymore.
It's lucky Harry's a good person. I'd be terrified to know what his abilities would be used for in the wrong hands. Actually, I think I already know…
For the first time in days, my right fingers inched toward my arm. My sleeve was still pushed up as I grimaced down at it. Instead of indulging my anxious habit, I angrily pulled my sleeve back down and clasped my hands together between my thighs. A forced nonchalance tried to erase my grimace as I turned back up to the lesson, but Harry's glance toward me said he immediately understood.
God, I hope he's right about this antidote thing. This shit in my arm drives me crazy. I hate it. No one's ever heard of a Dark Mark being erased, though. Only limbs lost.
I'd just told Harry to pay attention, but having seen my distress, he reached his quill over to my open textbook and inscripted a small heart in the corner of the page. This simple gesture simultaneously made me want to roll my eyes and throw my arms around him. Warmth spread into my face as I glanced over at him. The small, sympathetic smile curving his lips squeezed my heart.
I returned his smile, and found it easier now to relax. I'd tensed considerably, but now my hands unclenched from each other as I leaned forward on my desk, turning my attention back to Flitwick's lesson. I am so damn lucky Harry cares for me.
Flitwick's curriculum all week had been a series of random, unrelated lessons. I remembered at the beginning of seventh year how we'd begun working on Ascendio, but he hadn't brought the charm up once since classes started. I assumed he was as unprepared for a repeat year as the rest of us, and was trying to make it interesting, but he hadn't even had us do any in-class practice or demonstrations. For the most part, it'd been a nonlinear, broad overview of dozens of charms I'd never heard of, some not even in our textbook. Briefly, I wondered what his plan for the rest of the year would be, but judging by how the class had gone so far, I decided to withhold any expectations.
When the bell finally tolled the end of class, I was starving. Harry and I hastened to the Great Hall along with everyone else, and it didn't miss me how he'd purposefully taken my left hand. Another flush of embarrassment at showing weakness, and partially of gratitude, reached across my face.
"Alright?" He asked as we walked. Another smile spread my lips as I looked at him.
"Yeah," came my answer. With you, I am.
A sudden impulse brought my lips to his as I kissed him once. Our steps faltered together, but we continued on, both blushing ridiculously.
"Hermione, Ron, your Herbology project was really impressive," Harry noted as we took our seats beside the brunette and ginger.
"Thanks, Harry," Hermione answered earnestly. "Yours was a far sight better than I've seen you perform in the past."
They chuckled and jostled each other, offering sarcastic insults as I grinned at my plate.
"Suppose it was all this one's doing, though," Hermione leaned around Harry to raise an eyebrow at me.
"Actually, Mister Minimal Effort here came up with most of the planning for our research." She shot Harry a shocked expression as I continued. "It was most unexpected."
"Oh, shut up."
"I guess Draco is having a positive effect on you, Harry!"
He groaned into his plate as he shoveled more noodles into his mouth. I couldn't resist a chuckle as I followed suit. I was massively hungry. After a mouthful of this, and a swallow of that, Harry petitioned Hermione for information.
"By the way, Hermione, Draco and I… Well… He's tried every way he can think of to get rid of his Dark Mark, but I came up with the idea today that maybe it requires an antidote." I cast my eyes downward, not wanting to perceive any of the reactions the group might've had around me. "And I found, mordre means to bite, so maybe it's like a venom?"
"Hmm… Morsmordre… That'd definitely be something in the Restricted section you'd have to find. But…" We both looked up at her hopefully as she continued. "If we're going with the venom approach," a pleased flush crept into my face as I realized she'd paid attention to our presentation. "You'd need a binding agent. Death bite? What's the antidote to death?"
Harry and I exchanged a glance.
"A-actually, I figure it might not mean literal death. After all, Death Eaters actually feed on terror, so…"
"What's an antidote to terror?" Harry finished, but Hermione frowned.
"No, usually spells like that are fairly specific." We both watched expectantly as her brain kicked into gear. "An antidote to death…"
"Unicorn blood?" Ron suggested.
"You know that has side-effects, though. I was just thinking how useful it'd be to still have Nicholas Flamel and the Philosopher's Stone around, but even that wasn't an antidote for death so much as it was a delayer. My guess is what you're looking for is forbidden knowledge. I'd start with the Restricted Section," she finally decided.
"You'd start there? What if Harry just asked McGonagall about it?" We exchanged a glance and I shrugged. "Could be worth a shot."
"Do you think she'd have any clue about how to help though? And if she did, would she be willing to share? If there is a way, reckon it must be either very tricky or very dangerous."
"You've both got a point. It probably won't be easy, but McGonagall might be able to point you in the right direction. I'll do some research, too, in my free time."
"You don't have to do that-" I started to interject.
"Please, you can't ask me a question I don't know the answer to and expect me to just accept that. I'll either figure out a way, or figure out why it's so unheard of."
A grateful flush swept into my cheeks as Hermione casually turned back to her meal.
"Th-thanks, Hermione."
She offered me a kind smile before I dropped my gaze. Various conversations began around me, but I was in my own reverie of thought.
I can't believe I'm actually getting along with Harry's friends, and that Hermione, of all people, is willing to help me with my… Predicament. Still, with our combined efforts and maybe some assistance from McGonagall, I can almost begin to hope this nightmare is reaching its end.
My reverie was shattered as Harry's warm lips pressed a kiss to my cheek. I stiffened in shock as my cheeks warmed. Once I'd somewhat recovered, I cast him a curious glance.
"Hey, don't look at me, you're the one making that face again."
A grin threatened to break on his face as he pressed his lips together, and I couldn't help but smile. We were distracted by Hermione swatting at Ron.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Why don't you ever do cute things like that?"
"Er… Because I'm not gay?"
Harry barked a laugh at this, but Hermione only clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.
"Well, you could at least try!"
"What, try to be gay?"
Now both Harry and I were chortling.
"Of course not! Just try being spont-" Her sentence was lost as Ron suddenly seized her face and shut her up with a hearty kiss.
"There. Happy?" Ron turned his beet-red face back to his lunch as Hermione struggled for words.
"W-well, I… It-it's… Not really spontaneous when I ask you to…" Her words trailed off, but as she turned back to her own plate, I saw a flush of her own pooling in her cheeks.
"Ugh, we get it! Neville and I are the only single lads at the table, would you four get a room?"
"A-actually…" All eyes turned to Neville as he guiltily scratched the back of his neck and flushed.
"No way," Harry was the first to comment.
"Who?" Hermione pressed him.
I was even shocked to hear of Neville's less-than-single status. We all waited curiously as he blushed down at his lap.
"I-it's not, like… Official or anything, but… I guess I've… Kind of been seeing… Luna?"
Everyone's jaw, save Seamus's, fell open. The Scot only groaned.
"Don't tell me I'm the last one!" A frustrated growl sounded in his throat as he slumped onto the table dejectedly.
"How long has that been going on?" Hermione asked.
"I-I mean… We were owling each other over the summer… We go for walks together sometimes… I dunno…"
"Good for you, mate! Luna's brilliant," Harry beamed at him.
"Yeah…" He agreed as a small smile crept into his features.
"You'd better get a shift on, mate," Ron teased Seamus.
"Oh, fuck off! Dunno why I even sit with you guys anyway…" He grumbled.
"Come to think of it, are Dean and Ginny still a thing? I know you and Dean were all but joined at the hip before-" Harry joined in.
"Fuck if I know! And I'm not gay, thank you very much."
"Guys, leave him alone." Hermione chastised, but I saw a hint of a smile being repressed on her face. She seemed to wrestle with herself, and I was surprised to realize she'd had a sarcastic comment to make, too, but she swallowed it. "It's not like it's a race."
Harry snorted.
"Of course you would say that. If it had been, you'd have already won."
Her mouth gaped a few times as she scrambled to come up with a retort, but when she found none, she huffed and resumed her meal.