Chapter 1: The Aftermath

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed loudly. Luckily there was nobody in the Gryffindor common room other than them, certainly not at this time of night, as such, there was nobody to hear his outburst. Following said outburst, Ron fell into a silent reverie as the evening events bounced around in his mind, his eyes were fixed upon Harry who was sat opposite him but looking through him as his mind continued to wander.

Harry looked to Hermione who was sat on Ron's right side. She too was silent, her brain running at overdrive as she tried to digest all that had happened and make sense of it. Her eyes weren't fixed on Harry like Ron's, instead, her eyes were darting left and right, almost as if she was speed reading, like he'd seen her do before.

The silence hung in the air between the three friends for a long time. Harry wasn't deep in thought like his friends, instead just two words kept repeating themselves over and over in his head, "He's alive." He wasn't concerned with the how's or the why's, only that one fact seemed to matter, Lord Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the dark wizard who had killed Harry's parents, who had tried to kill him, was alive. Hagrid had been the one to tell him about You-Know-Who, following Mr. Ollivander revealing that he'd given Harry is famous lightning bolt scar. Hagrid had said that he didn't believe Voldemort had died, but was too tired to carry on. Tonight, Harry had learnt that Hagrid was right and wrong, Voldemort was alive, but he was not too tired to carry on.

Ron was the one to break the silence after what felt like hours but can't have been more than a few minutes, "Are you sure Harry? Are you sure it was… You-Know-Who?"

Harry could see a mix of fear and hope present on Ron's face. His eyes were wide and he was visibly sweating, but he had a small smile on his face, pained as it was, as if begging Harry to tell him it was all a big joke. Harry wished he could give Ron what he wanted, but he couldn't. Harry himself wished it weren't true, he'd only learnt about Voldemort recently, shortly after learning he was a wizard. Even then he only knew partial information as told by Hagrid and Mr. Ollivander. Voldemort was a dark wizard who brought death and ruin to much of the wizarding world. For some reason, Voldemort targeted and killed Harry's mum and dad, but when he tried to kill Harry, something stopped him, and Voldemort was no more… or so most people believed.

Hermione was in a similar position to Harry, being a muggle-born, she'd only learnt about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named through the History of Magic books that she'd read following her first trip to Diagon Alley. She knew only what the books had said, the facts and figures, nothing of the fear and dread he has inspired in the world whilst he was at the height of his power. Ron, however, had grown up with stories of You-Know-Who. He'd heard more of the finer details about his reign of terror, about the families he'd killed and tortured, about the monstrous creatures he'd recruited to his cause. Ron had feared You-Know-Who for longer than he could remember, so he wanted nothing more than for You-Know-Who to still be dead, not alive, not here and now.

Harry looked at Ron, his gut clenching with guilt and regret, wishing he could alleviate his friends fears, but unable to do so. "I'm sorry Ron. It was him, I felt it… here," Harry spoke softly as he raised his hand to his scar which still felt hot to the touch.

Ron's forced smile remained in place, not willing to believe Harry's words. "But you could be wrong, couldn't you? Sure your scar hurt, but it's not like the cloaked figure ambled up, shook your hand and introduced himself as You-Know-Who. What if your scar was just a coincidence? How you can you sit there and tell me for sure that the darkest wizard to ever live isn't only alive but here, at Hogwarts?!" As Ron had spoken his voice has slowly gotten louder, his smile had faded and been replaced with a scowl, his fear giving way to outrage.

Harry, his face conveying nothing but sadness, looked down, no longer able to hold eye contact with his red haired friend. His response to Ron was barely louder than a whisper, but Ron heard it all the same, "I'm sorry Ron."

Ron was stood now, though he couldn't remember standing, his fists were clenched, his breath came heavily. He met Harry's response with a long withering scowl before he spat out, "It's not true. He's dead. You're a liar." With nothing more to say, Ron stormed off up the stairs to the dormitories.

Silence reigned again in the common room, now only Harry and Hermione occupying the space. The only sounds that could be heard were the soft crackling of the slowly dying fire in the nearby fireplace, and the echo of Ron's retreating steps. Hermione hadn't reacted at any point during Ron's outburst and Harry was unsure if she'd even heard it. Harry himself was heartbroken. He understood Ron's outburst, his disbelief, but that didn't remove the sting from his words. Ron was Harry's first friend, not just at Hogwarts, but in general. He'd never had a friend before, and now his first hated him, thought him a liar.

Harry had been staring at his feet since Ron's temper had risen and had spent the time since Ron left fighting the tears that were forming in his eyes. His eyes slowly lifted to Hermione, his sadness giving way to fear, fear that she would accuse him of being a liar and leave him as Ron had. Hermione was Harry's second friend, not in rank, simply in chronology. Since Halloween the three friends had been inseperable. Whilst Hermione was studious and often came across as bossy, he had soon realised that her bossy nature was less about control and more how she conveyed her caring for him and Ron. She wanted them to succeed, cared about their futures, she just didn't say things the right way, often raising Ron's ire. Now though, Harry feared that her caring but bossy ways would no longer be directed at him.

Hermione didn't seem to notice the holes Harry's eyes were burning into her as her brain had continued to whir away, contemplating everything that had occurred earlier this night. She finally broke out of her reverie when she heard her own name. Her eyes finally focussed on Harry, he seemed to have folded in on himself, he was looking at her with fear on his face, though she couldn't fathom why. Now that her conscious mind had returned to the present, her brain rushed to catch up with what had occurred in the last 10 to 15 minutes, Ron's disbelief giving way to anger, Ron storming out, Harry's broken voice quietly asking her a question.

"Do you think I'm a liar too?"

Her eyes focussed in on Harry again, he was staring at her, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. It had been at least a few minutes since he'd asked the question and she hadn't answered. A single tear left Harry's eye and began its descent down his cheek. It was this that finally got Hermione to speak. "Of course not Harry," she said as she stood from the sofa opposite him and moved to sit next to him. She took his hand in hers before she carried on, "Of course I believe you. I promise." Her statement didn't have the desired effect, Harry's tears only seemed to flow more prominently at her words. "Harry, I swear, I believe you. I'm sorry for what Ron said. It's not that he doesn't believe you, he's scared to admit it's true. It's easier for him to deny it than deal with the truth. He'll come around in time. But I'm not going anywhere okay." With that said she embraced Harry with both arms hoping her presence could do what her words hadn't.

Harry's tears slowed to an eventual stop, his body stopped racking with sobs he'd not been aware of. He pulled away from Hermione enough to look into her eyes. She smiled at him, a genuine smile which told him that she'd spoken truthfully. "Thank you Hermione."

Hermione nodded her head, not trusting her voice to be strong for him, that's what he needed right now. No matter her own fears about the return of You-Know-Who, right now she needed to be there for him. Ron would come round, but until then, it was up to her.

Harry saw Hermione's mind returning to work and it was then that he felt a wave of tiredness which caused him to yawn. The fire had nearly died completely, he didn't know how late it was, their evening had begun , and Harry doubted it would be long before morning arrived. Harry's yawn broke Hermione out of her thoughts and she suggested they go to bed for what little time they could. Harry nodded sleepily. They released their hold of each other and stood. Before Hermione could reach the stairs to the dormitories Harry's voice stopped her.

"Hermione," she turned to face him before he continued, "thank you."

Hermione smile once more, gave Harry a small peck on the cheek and said goodnight. She then continued up the stairs. Harry smiled before climbing his own stairs. Another wave of tiredness hit as Harry reached his bed. He shirked off his shoes and climbed into his bed and fell asleep before his head hit the pillow. Fully dressed he soon fell into a deep slumber, unaware of what the morning would bring.