A/N: For those of you who keep coming back for the Ron/Hermione aspect of this story, I'm deliberately taking it slow. First, I can't stand it when people suddenly announce that they're together and dating and give absolutely no reason for it… or the reason is absolutely ludicrous. The whole "I dreamt about him last night so I must love him," is so middle school (if you are in middle school and wrote that in a story, mea culpa), as is anything where they just 'realize' that they're in love. Imagination, people! Yes, Rowling definitely gave us something to chew at, but not enough for them to just jump in. (Sorry about the rant.) Second, this burgeoning relationship will be integral to the story later on (no, it will NOT become a romance).
For those of you who do not like the Ron/Hermione aspect, see the second explanation above. I PROMISE, I am not writing a romance. I am NOT writing this just to get those two together. And they will not become the central story, but the relationship they create will be important.
I hope I didn't give too much away…
Anyone else curious where the Boy-Who-Lived got to?
I'm gonna go look for him.
You read on.
September first came much too quickly for the students of Hogwarts. Summer holiday was over, and with it, the freedom of unplanned days and uncompleted homework. For Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, it was also time to face that their worst fears were true. Harry was really gone.
Feeling claustrophobic in the Prefects' car, Ron and Hermione had escaped as soon as possible into a car further from the raucous conversations of returning students. Ron convinced two First Years to move with some other new students on the pretense of meeting new friends, and quickly claimed the newly emptied car. The two Gryffindor Prefects stowed their luggage on a top rack, then settled into silence in the suddenly empty-feeling car. Ron stared bitterly at the shiny Prefect badge on his robes, wondering, not for the first time, if it were his only because of Harry's death.
"So this is it," Hermione said softly. "He's really not coming. How- how could we not have known?" Her voice cracked just a little, and she lowered her eyes as Ron had seen her do many times over the summer when she didn't want it noticed that she was going to cry. Ron moved so he was sitting next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.
"Come on, 'Mione. We both knew this would happen."
"I keep expecting to see the door open and Harry come in."
Ron tried to smile reassuringly, but deep down, knew it was not true. He was just- gone.
Hermione laid her head on his shoulder, as she had also done many times during the past month. They had had to comfort and reassure each other so many times over their friend's disappearance and subsequent death, that their close proximity wasn't strange to them. It was, afterall, comforting. Even when Ron reached over and took her hand, gently rubbing his thumb over her fingers, neither was discomfited.
At least, not until the door of their compartment was thrown open and a voice bellowed:
"Blimey! It's true!"
Ron and Hermione jumped, quickly separating on the bench as Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas piled into the small compartment with them. Several other students were crowded around the door.
"Harry's really not on the train? He's not coming back?" Neville looked at both of them imploringly. "Where is he?"
Ron glanced over at Hermione, who gave an imperceptive shake of her head. Ron understood. Let Dumbledore explain it. He gave the only answer he could without lying.
"We haven't heard from him."
"Well I heard that You-Know-Who came after him again," Lavender volunteered from outside the door. "And that he had to go into hiding."
"The Ministry has him for Cedric's murder," someone else yelled, though the occupants couldn't see who it was. Whoever it was, several looks were shot in their direction just outside the door.
"Maybe he ran away," someone else offered. "After all that stuff in the Daily Prophet. Or maybe he really is crazy-." The student, a Third Year Hufflepuff, looked suddenly uncomfortable, as did several other students gathered around the door.
"My father says he's dead," Draco Malfoy announced, pushing his way through the crowd, his own Prefect badge causing several to move for him, and into the small compartment. "Killed by one weak Muggle." He smiled sadistically at Hermione and Ron. "Didn't you two look sweet all cuddled up together? Poor poverty stricken Weasley and his Mudblood-."
The rest of the statement went unfinished as several students, including Ron and Dean, pulled out their wands and stunned him. He fell against Neville, who pushed his limp body out the door where it was passed along by the crowd.
"Malfoy!" Fred exclaimed from further on. "Nice of you to join us!" This was followed by a chorus of laughter and heads turning to see what the Weasley twins and Jordan Lee were up to. Everyone snickered in the hallway, then turned their attention back to Ron and Hermione. They wanted to know what had happened to Harry.
"We don't know," Hermione told them. "Honest. We haven't heard from him."
"But you must have heard something. I thought you guys were best friends," Parvati Patil said, not letting up.
A look crossed Ron's face, that plainly stated, 'So did we,' but he said nothing. Eventually, the students wandered off, finding that the rumors were more fun than the facts. Only Neville and Dean remained. Neville slid the door shut.
"So really, what happened to him?" Dean asked, lowering his voice.
"You don't really think You-Know-Who got him, do you?" Neville's voice wavered just a little as he asked the question.
"Not that we've heard," Ron answered without thinking
"So you have heard something?" Dean prodded.
"You know as much as we do," Hermione explained. "Harry's not on the train. We haven't heard from him all summer." Her voice cracked again, and Ron laid a hand on the back of her shoulder. His gesture was thanked with a small smile from Hermione.
Neville watched the exchange with round eyes, though Dean seemed not to notice. Neville's eyes grew wider and wider with each passing second, until he finally stood up and pointed at Hermione.
"How can you sit here and do that? Harry's missing, so you suddenly jump to his best friend? It's sickening!"
Hermione's mouth dropped open. Dean looked confusedly between Neville and Ron and Hermione, but Ron stood up.
"Don't be a dunderhead, Neville. Hermione and Harry never dated!"
"You didn't really believe the things that were in the paper about us, did you?" Hermione, her eyes shining with tears, looked quietly up at Neville, who seemed at a loss for words. He sat down quickly.
"No. I guess not."
Hermione reached out and took his hand.
"You know I would never do anything to hurt Harry. All those things that were in the paper last year were lies. Harry and I were never going out. And if we were, I'd never have cheated on him. You know me, Neville. You know I wouldn't."
"Yeah," he answered in a low voice. "I know that."
"Wait a minute," Dean said, straightening up in his seat and looking at the two Gryffindors across the compartment from him. "Are you two dating?"
Ron and Hermione were stunned. Neither seemed able to come up with an answer. They looked silently at each other, than at Dean.
"No." The answer was in perfect unison.
Ron wearily made his way up to the Fifth Year dormitory in Gryffindor Tower. Professor Dumbledore had made no mention of Harry during his announcements, much to the students' dismay. It probably only meant that he had no real information for them, which meant they didn't have proof yet of his death. As a result, he and Hermione had been pulled in opposite directions after the feast and interrogated by the curious students before they could break away fro their Prefect duties. Actually, they had separated before that, while going into the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony.
'Probably for the better,' he thought. 'No need feeding more rumors.' It was odd though. After Dean's innocent question, they were suddenly very shy around each other. After Dean went off to find Seamus, Hermione buried herself in a book while Ron and Neville played Exploding Snap together to pass the time on the train, much to Hermione's consternation. The explosions were much louder in the small compartments.
But now the night was over, all the First Years were safely in their dormitories, and Ron could collapse into his bed, hopefully awakening to find that this had all been a bad dream, and that Harry was sound asleep in his bed. He pushed open the door to find Neville, Seamus, and Dean standing just inside the room. They quieted when he entered.
"What's going on?" Ron asked, wondering if Harry's bed had been removed. He didn't even want to think about it. He pushed past them and took in a sight that made the hair stand up on his arms.
Harry's trunk was at the foot of his bed. Right there, on the front, were his initials: HP. Ron stepped forward, and with a shaking hand, opened the trunk. Inside were Harry's belongings: his cloak, his books, even his wand. He looked quickly around the room.
"I thought you said Harry wasn't on the train," Neville said, looking hurt.
"He wasn't," came the answer. "He couldn't have been."
"Well, maybe he just didn't want to sit with you," Dean offered. "I mean, after all that stuff that happened last year-."
"Impossible," Ron murmured absently, shutting the lid of Harry's trunk and sitting on top of it. He looked around the room, but his eyes seemed to take in nothing. "It's- it's just impossible."
"It s'not impossible. He's prob'ly embarrassed after all that stuff in the papers." Seamus' voice grew quieter as all eyes fell on him. "I mean, he can't properly show his face after all that, can he?"
"No, I mean, it's impossible because-." Ron looked up suddenly at the other three boys, watching him expectantly. They didn't know anything- not a clue. They had no idea Harry was dead, and probably didn't even believe You-Know-Who was back. They had had their summer holidays like every other under-aged wizard, not worrying about anything but whether they had finished their summer homework.
Ron jumped to his feet so quickly, he surprised the other boys.
"Where you going?" Dean asked as he strode toward the door.
"I have to see Dumbledore," Ron answered before disappearing through the door.
Snape was standing in Dumbledore's office a half an hour later, trying with great difficulty to mask his anger as he waited for the Headmaster to enter from his private chambers. It was rare that he disagreed so totally with the man's decisions, but this time, this time he was going too far.
"Severus? Is something wrong?" Dumbledore asked, as he hurried down the stairs in his office.
"It seems so, Headmaster," came the deliberate answer. "I just ran into a very distraught Weasley in the corridors."
"Virginia?"
"Ronald," he answered. "It seems Potter's things are in the dormitory." He waited a very long moment for some kind of reaction, but receiving none, continued. "Why exactly are Potter's things in the dormitory?"
"We'll call it a feeling," Dumbledore answered.
"What feeling?"
"A feeling that Mr. Potter will be joining us very soon."
So shocked was Snape by this statement, he allowed it to show on his face before he could school himself and replace it with a scowl.
"Headmaster, you know I have every respect for your sanity-."
"For which I should thank you."
"-But this is, is simply cruel."
Dumbledore smiled as he slid behind his desk.
"Ah, to be called cruel by Professor Snape. I'm sure the students would be impressed."
"I'm not playing games here, Albus! By tomorrow morning, every student in this school will know what happened to Potter, and you're putting his school things out as if he'll be here any day! You'll drive his roommates mad, if not from grief, then from believing the boy is still alive!" His voice had continued to crescendo until Snape was practically screaming at the Headmaster, and he only realized it when the office was overwhelmed by silence after his last word.
"Are you saying you care if his Gryffindor roommates go mad?"
"I care if you go mad." He stared at the headmaster, wondering if he really was sane. "Why didn't you make the announcement?"
"I will not lie to them," came the simple answer, to which Snape threw his hands in the air.
"Albus, all of the evidence- all of the logical evidence-."
"Severus," Dumbledore interrupted softly, "it is not here that I believe Harry will be returning," he said, touching his fingers to his head. "It is here." He laid his hand solemnly on his heart.
Snape sunk defeated into a chair, pressing his finger onto the pounding blood vessel in the middle of his forehead to stave off the growing headache.
"What if you're wrong, Albus? What if you're deluding yourself? What then?"
"I'm not, Severus." He smiled at Snape's heavy sigh. "You mentioned evidence a moment ago." Snape looked up. "We have yet to find a body." He smiled as if this were evidence enough for the boy's continuance of life, but the smile faded slowly from his lips. "What is it you really came up here for, Severus?"
Snape closed his eyes, damning himself for allowing his mind to slip. Of course Dumbledore caught it. His thoughts were practically screaming out at the headmaster.
"For about the millionth time in my life, I am questioning your sanity." He caught the old man's eye. "And for the first time, I am seriously questioning your sanity."
"You think I've made a mistake."
"I think you've made several mistakes. This is just one of them." He pressed forward his memory of the last summons he had received, allowing it to play loud and clear in his mind for the headmaster. Every scream, every flash of pain was there to be seen.
"I'm sorry, Severus. I'm sorry you had to go through that. It was never my intention, and had I any idea that Voldemort had found the Dursleys-." He watched Snape sink a little lower into his chair, though seemingly without crouching or slouching or sliding down the cushion. "And I am more than sorry I ever questioned your loyalties, even for an instant. I know that it is no small burden I have given you." He looked to the younger man meaningfully, the sincerity of his words, palpable.
"I know." He stood, his eyes still locked with Dumbledore's, though they were not so hard and angry as when he had entered. "May I be dismissed, sir?"
"Of course. Good night." He watched the Potions Master glide across the room and disappear through the door before closing his eyes and whispering, "Thank you, Severus."
Note: This chapter was originally 9 pages long (twice what it is now) but I cut it in half because I didn't want what's to come to overpower this second disagreement between Snape and Dumbledore. Sorry, you'll have to wait for me to post the second half before we find out whether or not Dumbledore is sane.
BTW, was it clear what Dumbledore thanked Snape for? Or am I leaving too much to "show, don't tell"?