Sixteen Candles - Chapter Twelve


Mum and I had no chance to marvel or theorize at my immediate healing, as at that exact moment, the doorbell rang, signaling Hermione and Ron's arrival.

"Do they always come together?" I asked, still shaking from the incident.

"Almost always," Mum answered, shaking her head, "I'm going to have a talk with your father about that cut of yours… In all my years, I've never seen anything like that."

We made our way to the door together, both silent. She allowed me to answer it after checking to make sure it really was Hermione and Ron, and once I opened the door, I was attacked.

"Harry!" Hermione grinned, hugging me tightly. She looked up at me for a moment with absolute adoration in her eyes, and then leaned in to give me a soft kiss on the lips.

I was most definitely not prepared for that.

My eyes widened slightly as she backed down, and I involuntarily took a step back. Mum looked on, her eyes shining with unexpressed laughter.

"H-Hermione," I stuttered, "Ron, how are you two?"

Ron gave me a small smile and simply shrugged, while Hermione proceeded to launch into a five minute rendition of her life since I had seen her last – which, apparently, had been the longest we had Iever/I been apart.

Really, how could we possibly survive a whole two days apart?

Please note the sarcasm in that last thought.

"Ron, Hermione…" said Mum, gesturing for the two to join her in one of the adjoining rooms, "May I please speak with you – alone?"

With two curious glances sent my way, Hermione detached herself from me and followed Mum into what I assumed to be a private study. I sighed, making my way into the living room, where Dad was now having a chat with Sirius – through the fireplace.

I stood silently behind him as he chatted with Sirius, mainly about an upcoming Quidditch Match we were apparently going to later that week. With a nod and a grin, Sirius acknowledged my presences, making Dad turn around to see who was behind him.

"Hello, Harry," he smiled, "I heard the doorbell ring – are Hermione and Ron here?"

I nodded, "Mum's having a chat with them."

He nodded slowly, "Yes, which was a good idea… I suppose you wouldn't know if Draco was joining the three of you today?"

I shrugged, "No clue. Ron or Hermione may know."

He shook his head, turning back to Sirius, "If this continues any longer, I'm afraid I'm going to have to have a chat with Albus."

Albus… "Dumbledore? Why would you talk to him about this?"

He turned around once more, giving me a strange look, "He has a right to know."

"But…" I sputtered. I did NOT want this getting out, "Why does he have a right to know?"

Dad shook his head, "He's family, Harry, and I'd assume even how harshly you believe Petunia and Vernon treated you, you'd still have a good idea of family values."

My jaw dropped, "He's… family?!"

Dad raised an eyebrow, "You mean in this 'past life', you never knew this?"

"On what side?" I demanded.

Dad shook his head once again, "If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you – once you start to remember things, it'll come back."

I scowled, "And say it doesn't come back?"

He chuckled, "Judging by the way you're acting? It's already started to."

I sighed, shaking my head as Dad turned back to Sirius, who was also chuckling. I walked out of the room, arms crossed and head bowed, and the stood in front of the now-closed study doors, waiting for Mum to finish telling Ron and Hermione, hoping perhaps Hermione could get her hands off of me long enough for me to talk to both her and Ron.

I didn't have to wait long; after the initial startled gasp from Hermione, Mum opened the double doors and winked at me.

"Well, they know – now go upstairs or outside and grill everything you can out of them."

I grinned and nodded, glad to have an ally besides Draco in this world.

Hermione came out of the room, her lower lip quivering and eyes glassy. She walked up to me and stared at me for a good ten seconds before speaking, her voice unsteady as well.

"So you don't remember us at all?"

I sighed; when on earth did she become such a crybaby?

"I know who everyone is – you're Hermione Granger, born September 19th. You – " I nodded over towards Ron, who was also staring at me, " – are Ron Weasley, born March 1st. The situations are just different, that's all."

Ron stepped forward and motioned for us to follow him as he lead us out onto a large deck I hadn't known existed until then. He took a seat on a chair, and while I followed his lead, Hermione took her place on a hammock hanging in mid-air, obviously held up by magic.

"So tell us," Ron started, "What's so different?"

"Well, first of all," I sighed, "Draco Malfoy is definitely not my best friend – you are. Hermione and I aren't going out, either – you two are."

I saw a flicker of hope light in Ron's eyes as I said this, and his gaze immediately shifted to Hermione for a split second, who was looking abashed at the mere possibility of us not being together.

"Anything else?" he asked cautiously, reluctantly bringing his gaze back towards me.

"Yes, as a matter of fact… My parents were dead, I lived with my horrible Aunt and Uncle who treated spiders – " I saw Ron shudder slightly and I smiled to myself; some things never change, " – better than me. Apparently, I'm related to Dumbledore in this lifetime, Remus Lupin isn't a werewolf, and Peter Pettigrew isn't a traitor."

Both Ron and Hermione stared at me once again, both not knowing what to say.

"You mean…" Hermione started, "Ron and I… are together? Happily?"

"Quite," I nodded, "And to be completely honest, I liked it a lot better that way."

One look from Hermione was all I needed to know I had definitely said the wrong thing that time.