A/N: Hello, I would have posted this last night but ff.n wasn't working for me for some reason. It works now though, so here is chapter 6 of my story. THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed, you guys really don't know how happy you've made me, and I'm serious :) And as always, thanks to Lupin, the superb beta reader. To address a few issues, well, mainly one issue: Wait a few more chapters, and the Ron and Hermione tension will be resolved. I'm not saying how or when, but you'll see…I have to keep some mystery involved, don't I? Oh, and for all interested parties, the plot develops more from this chapter onward.
Disclaimer: It's not mine.
Chapter 6
It was moderately cool in the Arizona desert; dawn was hinting at the fast lightening sky, and most of the mammalian and reptilian occupants of the area were hidden underground waiting for the sun to rise over the dunes. However, two very unnatural creatures were prowling the area, though not without difficulty; they frequently tripped on rocks and other desert debris and their robes often snagged on elements of the terrain. Despite their bumbling about, it was obvious that they had graced the area with their presence for a purpose. They stopped in excitement when they saw what they must have been looking for: a lone snake off in the distance, slithering through the sand in their general direction.
The pair stopped and immediately bowed, trembling slightly, unmoving as the snake weaved closer and closer. They had been searching for weeks, following every instruction their master had given them; their loyalty seemed to have paid off, for it was happening just as he said it would. They would be responsible for the resurrection of their master; their dreams had come true. Finally, they were disturbed from their groveling by a hiss from the aforementioned snake, which had arrived at the spot where the two large cloaked figures were bowing.
"My lord!" they both whispered humbly.
"We have come to serve you," the wizard on the left trembled. The snake obviously didn't need more explanations, for it gave a loud hiss, went suddenly taut, emitted a blue-green light that expanded around the wizard who had pleaded with it, and suddenly lay limp and still.
The one on the left turned around so that his back faced his companion. However, where the back of a head would have been there was another face, sickly, gray, and snake-like.
"Goyle," it said, almost hissing. "You and Crabbe are truly two of my most treasured servants. You shall be rewarded dearly." Goyle dropped into another worshipping bow and once again declared his loyalty to his master. "Stand up," Voldemort ordered. "There is work to be done. This time, we shall not fail."
With a pop, the two were gone before the sun rose over the hills and the first lizards crawled out into the light.
***
Hermione yawned, rolled over, and wished for another hour of sleep. She had been extremely busy for the past few weeks and the increased activity was beginning to take its toll on her. She had been spending a lot of time with Viktor Krum lately; she decided it was nice having a boyfriend in close quarters. He had taken a year off to continue with his Quidditch career after he graduated from Durmstrang, but came to school after the Bulgarian team promised to hold his spot until he graduated from college. It was true that she noticed more faults in him once they started spending an excess of time together, but she thought it was only natural. After all, people are idealized when there are only carefully planned letters and weeklong visits to derive information from. The two were beginning to fall into a comfortable familiarity, and Hermione couldn't say that she wasn't grateful for the slight increase in time that she began spending by herself.
Harry and Ron had been another story; ever since they had both made the Quidditch team they had been spending even more time apart than they had before. Hermione had three classes with them, and many days it was the only time she saw Ron and Harry. She missed them; only last summer it felt as if they would always be as close as possible, but now she felt that they were drifting apart. She felt this especially with Ron, who seemed to have some sort of problem with her involvement with Viktor. She found it so irritating that he thought he could control her so far as to say whom she should and shouldn't date. Her fists clenched just thinking about it. He had some nerve. Just the night before he made a comment, something like, "Who are you?" when she had said hi, and when she gave him a look he had answered, with a shocked expression, "Good heavens! She's emerged from Krumland!" Why can't he be more mature, like Harry? she thought
With a sigh, she resigned herself to the fact that the extra hour she hoped for would not materialize and began to ready herself for her classes. She really and truly loved her classes; they were all they were at Hogwarts and more. She quickly found her previously occupied academic niche (the top), and just kept working.
As good as she was at all of her subjects, spell developing was the one she enjoyed most. To invent a spell, there first must be a name for it. Wizards had used Latin since the language was derived; therefore, naming spells was as simple as an elementary translation. Actually making them work was another story; standing in front of a flower, pointing a wand, and declaring (in Latin), "scent of tangerines!" would never do a thing without the number work behind it.
Yes, spell developing included Hermione's favorite things in the world, even more so than reading: numbers and logic. The mathematical combinations and calculations required to create even a simple spell were excruciating to most students; for Hermione, after an initial week of trouble it became a breeze. By the first quarter of the term, she was months ahead of everyone else in her class. Now she was being considered for a special research team that was in the process of inventing a defense for Avada Kedavra. If she were included, she would be exempt from spell developing and could use that time to work on the project. Needless to say, she desperately wanted to be included.
Hermione sleepily made her way down to breakfast and saw Ron and Harry talking groggily at the end of a table.
"G'morning," she murmured, ordering pumpkin juice and toast. Ron looked up and said,
"Hello."
"'Lo," mumbled Harry through a full mouth.
"What are you up to today?" Ron asked, gulping some sort of liquid down his throat.
"Well, classes of course, then it depends on if I get picked for that research thing I told you about. Viktor has Quidditch until dinner, so I'll probably be in the library until then."
"Oh," Ron replied mockingly, unable to control his glare. "Well, I hope you have fun then."
"What?" Hermione snapped.
"Nothing. I didn't SAY anything wrong," he muttered, keeping the glare. She abruptly left the table in a huff, oblivious to Harry hitting Ron upside the head, and went to charms early.
She greeted the professor and sat at her usual table, pulling out a book that she was going to pretend to read while she mulled over why Ron was such a prick. Granted, he was right about the fact that it was true she hadn't spent more than 20 minutes a day with him and/or Harry for the last month or so, but, so what? It's not as if they were making extra concessions so they could spend time with her. They had Quidditch, and Quidditch, and more Quidditch…all they cared about was Quidditch. Then again, she missed them almost desperately. Viktor was one thing, a boyfriend; Harry and Ron were her friends. She had of course made some friends in her classes, but none of them ever went to the extent of that which she supposedly shared with Harry and Ron. But Ron still had no right to act like such a prick. She sighed and closed her book as people began to walk in, eyes on the doorway in search of Harry and Ron. They appeared momentarily, still sleepy looking, and took their usual seats, Harry next to Hermione and Ron next to Harry (he usually sat next to Hermione as well, unless they were arguing).
"Let's go out tonight after dinner; we can portkey into Toronto, exchange money at Gringotts, see a Muggle movie, then we can get something to eat. Viktor can do something else."
They both looked at her with surprise. "Well, we might as well take advantage of being allowed to leave whenever we want…it is a Friday, after all."
"Sounds good to me," Ron replied, bewildered.
"Should be fun," Harry answered, smiling slightly. "Despite SOME of our behavior," he jerked his head toward Ron, "we've missed you just a little."
Hermione smiled and didn't reply; after all, the professor had just stood up to discuss difficult healing charms for sick and/or injured animals.
***
"Hermione Granger, may I speak with you?" Professor Meyers, the spell developing instructor, called across the room to where Hermione was studying. Her heart gave a small, hopeful leap in her chest and she timidly walked past the struggling students to the desk at the front of the room. "Congratulations, Ms. Granger," Professor Meyers immediately began. "The research team said they'd be glad to have you on board." Hermione felt a gigantic smile take over her face, which was promptly returned by her professor. "This," she said, addressing a figure sitting next to her that Hermione had not noticed before, "is Professor Penny Yang, and she will explain what's been going on and help you get started. Good luck," she finished, smiling. Hermione thanked her professor and followed Professor Yang out of the room and down the hallway.
"Nice to meet you, Hermione," she said as they left the room, extending her hand.
"Nice to meet you as well," Hermione replied, shaking her hand.
"We've made a lot of progress in the past several months," Professor Yang began as she opened a locked door and they both stepped inside. "I was told you know about your headmaster's involvement in the project."
Hermione nodded.
"That was the rough version of the spell; it is extremely complicated, and as you know didn't work effectively as we'd hoped."
Hermione nodded again.
"What we're doing now is trying to fully dissect Avada Kedavra again, and then combine it with a reflective shield charm that we are currently in the process of inventing. Once that's finished, then we will call all of our voluntary test subjects back and try the charm on them again and hope for the instance of one of their attempted murders, and of course that the curse is successful."
Hermione nodded yet again and asked, "What did the charm consist of the last time you tested it?"
"It was supposed to be just a complete reverse of the spell employing the use of many counter-curses, but something in the makeup of the Avada Kedavra curse was mapped wrong and/or contained some currently incomprehensible aspect that does not allow counterspells to interfere."
"Well, it lets the victim remain alive; that's an achievement in itself."
"It was so difficult to perform that we had to bring Albus Dumbledore himself in to perform the spell on everyone who was testing it; none of us came close, not even our best professors."
Hermione nodded once again in understanding.
"Here we are," Professor Yang said as she opened a door to reveal a large room resembling a Muggle laboratory in an old castle. The eight occupants of the room all looked up and nodded at the new member of their group. Professor Yang proceeded to point out everyone in the room, and handed Hermione a rather large book.
"This is your notebook; your section is at the end. We all have books like this. They've been enchanted to make whatever someone writes in their section appears in everyone else's book as well. It makes it much easier to compare notes and decide what to research or experiment with. Document whatever you do in the notebook, no matter what the results are. If you have any questions at all, go ahead and ask. I'll be sharing a table with you, alright?"
"Alright," Hermione answered, very ready to begin. Penny smiled and began to work; Hermione sat down with the notebook and began to read, feeling as if she had just entered heaven on earth.
***
"Where the hell is she?" Ron snapped, looking at his watch for the twelfth time that minute.
"Calm down Ron, she's only two minutes late, she probably got tied up on her way down here," Harry groaned, very exasperated. Ron grumbled. Harry proceeded to ignore his temperamental friend and began to daydream about Quidditch, trying to expel thoughts of Michele from his mind. She had been talking to him whenever she saw him (when Ron wasn't near), and he had been eagerly talking back. He found her boldness refreshing and her honesty brutally attractive, he admitted to himself, but he was still scared of her and wasn't really sure if she actually like him or if she was just being nice so she could use him for his Quidditch skills.
In fact, they had just spent the afternoon together after defense against the dark arts. He had been walking down the hall with her, talking…
"Snape iz assigning too much 'omework," she had said, amusedly watching Harry struggle under the weight of both his books and hers (he had offered to carry them).
"Yeah, I'll have to agree with you on that," Harry replied, shifting the weight from one arm to the other, trying not to show any evidence of discomfort and following the top of Michele's head because he couldn't see anything else over the pile. Suddenly, he noticed they were taking a little too long to get to Michele's tower… "Hey, where are we going?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, I 'ave to go to the potions room to get somesing zat I forgot," Michele admitted. "I'm sorry for taking advantage of you…oh, wait, no I'm not," she grinned.
"That's it, abuse poor little Harry, the strong one who carries the books out of the kindness of his little heart," Harry muttered.
"No, out of ze need for him to prove his manhood to me for some odd reason," Michele answered.
"I don't need to prove anything," Harry replied, flexing his muscles just to show off even though it didn't occur to him that she couldn't see his arms through his robes, or that he wasn't exactly stronger than the average wizard anyway.
"Sure, 'Arry," Michele grinned as she walked through the potion dungeon door. "You can put ze books down now, we're here."
Harry did his best not to put them down too quickly, but he failed and Michele laughed. "I, um, dropped them," he tried to explain with a smile, but she would hear none of it.
"Oh be quiet, zey're 'eavy, I know." Michele laughed.
Harry just grumbled. "So what are we here for anyway?"
"I 'ave to get my book on ze famous one-eyed witch Yolanda de Rousseau, she was famous for her work wis various poisons."
"Really, a one-eyed witch?" Harry asked.
"Yes, why?"
"There was a statue of a one-eyed witch at Hogwarts, I was wondering if it were the same one," Harry replied. For some reason, the tables had all been pushed off to the side of the room. The bricks all formed a pattern that converged in the center where they met a large, pentagon shaped brick, upon which Harry sat.
"Why do you remember zat? I 'ave never been to 'Ogwarts, but from what you 'ave told me zere were lots of statues."
"This statue was special," Harry responded, smiling in recollection. "It was a secret passage to Hogsmeade, the wizard village by the school. You tapped its hump," Harry tapped his wand on the floor, "and said Dissendium—AUGH!" Harry was cut short as the ground below him suddenly collapsed and he fell down into the darkness.
"'ARRY!" Michele yelled and ran over, looking into the hole he had fallen into.
"I'm alright," he called from below. "It's not too deep, and the landing's soft. This must be a secret passage or something…come down, let's look around!"
Michele didn't answer, but a second later Harry sensed that someone had landed beside him. "Lumos," they said simultaneously, and grinned as their faces came into each other's view.
"Well, let's go!" Harry said eagerly, and they were off. Admittedly, it wasn't very exciting; there were some twists and turns, and at the end of the passageway there was a big room that held many ancient looking things that seemed to belong in a prison.
"Zis looks like a secret dungeon," Michele muttered in awe as she looked all around her.
"Yeah…and I think this is it, I don't see any way to leave here except the way we came. But this is still very cool," Harry replied, walking around and looking at some of the shackles attached to the walls. Michele followed, and together they examined what looked to be a torture device from the middle ages.
"Zis is interesting, I sought zat ze castle was built recently," Michele said, running her hand along part of the top.
"Hermione told me that the foundation had been here for awhile, and that it was restored for this school," Harry said, picking up a piece of a broken cuff and examining it. As Harry leaned down to put it back, he bumped heads with Michele, who giggled shamelessly.
"Sorry about that," Harry exclaimed, smiling, putting his hand to her head to see if she was alright.
"I'm fine," she replied, putting her hand on his and drawing it away from her head. Harry found himself staring into her clear brown eyes, which held two reflections of light, one for both of their wands. Suddenly, he was very aware of the feel of their hands touching; if she felt the same, she certainly didn't seem to mind.
"Are-are you sure?" Harry stammered, doing the only thing that seemed natural and taking her other hand, not moving his eyes from hers.
"Yes," Michele answered quietly, pulling Harry a little closer with her hands, "very sure…"
Harry's heart began to beat faster as he noted that he could hear her breathing, and felt himself slowly drawing her closer to him. Her eyes didn't move as their arms touched, and he felt himself silently leaning down to touch his mouth to hers…
"…With stupid Krum, sucking his brain out by way of his mouth…" Ron continued to mumble, fading back into Harry's reality. Suddenly Ron stopped, waved at the door, and muttered "finally" under his breath. Harry, upset that his recollection had been disturbed, ignored him and waved to Hermione as well.
"Sorry I'm late," she breathed as she made her way over to them. "I made that research project; I was in the lab and I lost track of time." Ron opened his mouth, but Harry kicked him in the shin before he had a chance to say something. Hermione didn't notice since she was making her way toward her dorm room.
"I'm going to get ready; I'll be down in a minute," she called as she ascended the staircase.
"Ron," Harry began sternly, "I suggest you congratulate her when she gets back, and don't say a word about Krum tonight, alright?"
Ron glared and began to grumble again. Harry told him to shut up, and watched the staircase for Hermione's reappearance.
She soon emerged with braided hair and Muggle clothing (Ron thankfully seemed to obey Harry and did not say anything about Krum), and they walked to the portkey room. Harry enjoyed the freedom the college offered; it was a refreshing change from the extreme security of Hogwarts.
"So, Hermione," Ron began. She looked at him suspiciously. "Congratulations on making that thing," he said hurriedly, eyes not moving from the hallway ahead of him.
"Thank you, Ron," she smiled. He sneaked a glance in her direction and smiled a little as well. Harry let out a sigh of relief at the exchange, then waved eagerly as he saw Michele passing by with her two silent friends.
"Salut 'Arry," she waved, grinning.
"Hey," he replied, and smiled back.
Hermione gave him a sideways glance, and inquired after his friend.
"Oh," Harry answered, reddening slightly at the ears. "That's Michele. She's the seeker for Tower six." Hermione nodded, and thankfully didn't pry any deeper into the matter.
They took an empty soda can to the small hidden wizard section of Toronto, and they embarked into the Muggle section for their stereotypical night on the town. Two hours later they exited the theatre, excited about their viewing experience. Though Harry had lived as a Muggle for almost the entirety of his first eleven years the Durselys had never taken him to a movie theatre, and of course Ron had never been, but they both thoroughly enjoyed it (even though Ron was easily confused by references meant for Muggles, and kept asking why spells weren't used because they could make things so much easier). They were surprised to feel how cold it had become when they emerged from the theatre; Hermione, who had relied on the weather forecaster's prediction that temperatures would not drop under 60 degrees, had not brought a coat and immediately began to shiver. Ron took one look at her, shed his jacket, and offered it to her. She gave him a surprised look and a shy smile, and accepted. Harry shook his head, but did not dare comment as he hoped not to disturb the rare and amicable conversation that had developed between the two; they were talking school, Hermione's classes, Quidditch, and some other things—and they weren't fighting! Harry treasured the extraordinarily rare moment; it was almost like old times (well, like a rare moment in old times). After awhile Ron, who was beginning to feel his stomach growl, asked,
"So, where do you want to eat?
"How about there?" Hermione suggested, pointing to what looked like an esoteric Middle Eastern restaurant. Harry controlled his snort of laughter as he saw Ron blanch and reply,
"Alright then." Hermione grinned and walked quickly to the door. Ron was right behind her, his face suggesting that he was about to regret this, and Harry went cheerfully behind the both of them, very willing to risk horrible food to see how Ron would handle the situation.
The light was dim in the small restaurant, and ethnic music was playing softly behind the bustle of the waiters and waitresses and the conversation of the customers.
"Hermione," Ron began, taking a deep breath. She looked at him expectantly. "Yoolonistnight," Ron mumbled.
"Yes?" she asked, unsure of what she heard.
"I said, you, um, look nice, tonight," Ron repeated, going very red. Hermione pulled a stray piece of hair hanging in her face back behind her ear, and sheepishly said thank you. Harry reaffirmed Ron's compliment, causing her to act even more embarrassed.
"Three?" a waitress asked, interrupting the Kodak moment.
"Yes," Ron replied, snapping back to reality. The waitress led them to a table next to some plants and a wall with faux gold trimming. She gave them menus and the ordering process began.
Hermione merely took a minute to read the menu over, and immediately made her selection; she proceeded to close her menu with a triumphant movement of her hand. Ron eyed her suspiciously and asked,
"What are you ordering?"
"Tabouli and Kibee," she responded.
"What the hell is that?"
"Tabouli is a parsley salad, with onions and wheat and tomatoes—"
Ron put his hand to his mouth and let out a cough that suspiciously sounded like "birdfood."
"—and," Hermione continued, trying to control her urge to giggle, "kibee is heavily flavored and very lean beef, raw or—"
"Raw meat?!" Harry exclaimed. "Never mind, let's go, Ron."
"No, it's good," she tried to reassure him, though she was laughing.
"It's raw meat!" Harry shot back.
"I think I'll try it," Ron suddenly interjected. Harry turned and looked at Ron like he was from another planet.
"Are you insane?" he asked.
"No, just feeling adventurous," Ron replied. His face once again told otherwise. Hermione, not wanting to disturb this utterly amusing and very curious situation, decided not to mention the fact that it also came fried on request.
The three got back to the school around midnight, and Harry quickly retired to his dorm, saying that he was extremely tired and needed to rest for the Quidditch match the next day against Tower 3, Malfoy's tower. Ron was left looking curiously at Hermione for a moment before he blinked, raised his eyebrows, touched her gently on the arm and said goodnight.
Interesting, thought Hermione, furrowing her brow. She didn't understand Ron in the slightest, and though this bothered her to the point where she felt uneasy, she wasn't sure she wanted to.
***
The next morning, Harry woke with his alarm and literally leaped out of bed.
"Wake up, Ron, Quidditch game!" he said pertly. Ron, instead of moaning and rolling over as he usually did, leapt out of bed as well.
"Oh, incidentally," Harry said as he pulled a shirt over his tantalizing, muscular chest (A/N: sorry, I'm kidding, I just couldn't resist, hehe), "good show last night."
Ron winced and began to put some clothes on. "How do you mean?"
Harry donned a high, sarcastic voice and replied, "Oh Hermione, I'll eat raw meat for you—" He was forced to stop as Ron threw a pillow at him.
"Shut up. I wasn't like that."
"You're right, you were worse. You had this look on your face, it was all I could to stop myself from laughing."
"I did not!" Ron started digging for his Quidditch robes.
Harry just laughed. "You know, you could score more points if you stopped acting like an arse 99% of the time," he said, sticking his wand in his shirt like he always did before a Quidditch game, out of habit.
"I don't act like an arse! I'm a nice and sensitive guy!"
"Who frequently acts like an arse because he's—"
Ron shot him a look that was worthy of Draco Malfoy in his finer days, and Harry thought it best to obey Ron's initial order and shut up.
Hermione, who had been awake for hours, was in the common room reading out of the notebook she had received the day before. Just as she was closing it, having both finished reading everyone else's notes and formulating a few ideas of her own, Harry and Ron came bursting down the stairs.
"See you in an hour," Ron yelled as he and Harry ran right back out through the exit into the school.
Hermione shook her head, grabbed her bag, and left to find Viktor so they could sit together during the Quidditch game.
***
"That was great!" Sirius commended four hours later after Harry had joined him outside the Quidditch field. Harry smiled as they began to walk to his tower so he could get some robes for the next day.
The game had been an especially good one for both Harry and his team; Ron hadn't let a single quaffle by despite the valiant efforts of Angelina Johnson (whom Harry still hadn't spoken to, incidentally) and co. The Tower 7 chasers had scored 30 points by the end of the first 30 minutes, and there were many close calls with bludgers. Harry had eventually caught the snitch, though he could have gotten it sooner; Draco Malfoy, though he didn't say very much, had pulled several stunts (such as blocking him and signaling to beaters) to ensure that he didn't catch it any sooner. However, Harry had finally managed to get by him by executing the Wronski Feint, causing Draco to crash to the ground in a tangled pile of limbs, and then grabbing the snitch while Draco was still incapacitated. The crowd had screamed and Tower 7 had won the game.
As he and Sirius were walking back, Harry's head was pulled out of its little cloud when Madame Jennings called from some ways behind them.
"POTTER!" they heard her yell, "WAIT UP!" Sirius gave Harry a questioning look, but the look of doubt was soon replaced by a look that said "Hello" (that Harry was sure he pulled from his old school days) as the woman running after them came into clear view.
"Fantastic job today, Potter," she commented, slapping him good-naturedly on the back. "Haven't seen that good of a Wronski Feint in a long time. You have a definite shot in the pros if you decide to aim in that direction."
Harry almost blushed. "Thanks," he answered sheepishly.
"So, who's this?" she asked, motioning toward Sirius. Before Harry could answer, Sirius cut in and introduced himself.
"Black, Sirius Black," he said proudly with an air of mystery, extending his hand.
"Oh," she replied, surprised, but extending her hand to meet his. Instead of shaking it he kissed it, causing her to smile and Harry to sigh with exasperation.
"Harry lives with me now," he commented, answering her unasked question of how he was currently connected to Harry. "Great kid; I hope he's that way here as well."
"Yes, he's very good," Madame Jennings replied, oblivious to Harry's rolling eyes. "I'm Maggie Jennings, by the way." Sirius nodded, furrowing his brow in sudden thought.
"Weren't you pro once upon a time?"
"Yes, until last year."
"You were excellent from what I remember."
"Thank you," she replied happily. The small chat continued until they reached the hallway that led to the cafeteria.
"I'm going to get something to eat; it was very nice meeting you," she said, looking at Sirius.
"I'll see you again when Harry has another game, I promised him I'd make them all. Hopefully, no plans will change," he replied, giving her his trademarked Sirius Black look and hoping that its effect hadn't waned over the past 17 years. She gave him a sideways smile with a hint of mischief in her eyes, which then swept over to Harry.
"Well, great job again Harry; I'll see you at practice on Monday."
"Bye," Harry said pleasingly as she disappeared down the hallway. Harry had definite place to ridicule his godfather, but they had walked no more than two steps when they were stopped by a French accent calling to them from down the hall.
"'Arry!" Michele yelled, jogging to catch up.
Oh no, thought Sirius, It starts.
"You were fantastique!" she cried, kissing him solidly on both cheeks. Harry blushed slightly and raised his eyebrows, hoping that this was as a result of yesterday and not some bizarre French custom. They hadn't spoken since the incident the day before.
"Ahem," Sirius grunted. Harry was again brought back down to earth, and decided he'd better make an introduction.
"Michele, this is Sirius, my godfather," he began grudgingly. "And Sirius, this is Michele, seeker for Tower 2."
"'Ello, nice to meet you," Michele said.
"Pleasure's all mine," Sirius responded, trying desperately not to laugh.
"Well, I will see you later 'Arry," she commented as she squeezed his hand and left down the hall with a little wave over her shoulder. "Congratulations!"
Sirius gave a low whistle. "Working quickly then, Potter?" he asked.
"'Hopefully, no plans will be changed,'" Harry shot back in a high voice, giving him an imitation of the look that Sirius had given his Quidditch coach.
"Hey now, I'm the older one, I have seniority, I'm allowed to tease," Sirius said, unaffected, as they entered the common room. Hermione was sitting with Viktor at a table holding her research notebook.
"Harry!" she called happily. "Great job!"
"Thanks," he replied, smiling.
"You haf gotten better, I look forward to playing against you," Viktor complimented.
Harry's grin widened. "Four months, Krum," he stated.
Viktor Krum just laughed.
"I'll see you Sunday night or Monday," she said, getting up from the table and giving him a hug. Harry grabbed the bag he had packed beforehand from the corner.
"Don't fight with Ron too much," he commented, ignoring Hermione's retort of,
"Tell that to HIM."
Harry and Sirius began to make their way to the apparation room, but were continuously interrupted by Harry's well-wishers, so no conversation worth mentioning took place (it was all interrupted). They finally reached the room, and with two small "pops" they were behind the Leaky Cauldron. They entered through the back and were greeted ceremoniously by the evening crowd, took a table, ordered their first drinks, and resumed conversation.
"So, what's with Ron and Hermione?" Sirius asked, taking a large gulp of his drink. "Going for each others' throats? Wink wink nudge nudge?"
"No, not yet," Harry answered, taking a large gulp of his own. "They're just always about to kill each other. Ron's so jealous that I think his hair's turning green. You know."
"Yep," Sirius agreed, pouring himself another. "So, what's been going on with that girl we saw in the hall? You haven't mentioned her."
"Oh, well..."
Harry's ears are reddening, Sirius noted in amusement.
"Nothing really. Just talk. She's a rival in Quidditch." Harry had decided not to mention what had happened the day before until he got some answers.
"Mmm hmm," Sirius responded, pouring himself yet another glass and also refilling Harry's. "Did she go to Beauxbatons?" Harry nodded in reply. "Well then, I've been meaning to tell you; watch out for those Beauxbatons girls, they're trouble."
Harry laughed and asked him whatever made him say that, and the next three hours were spent drinking and listening to Sirius talk about the French exploits of his younger years. When closing time was called, they each had one last drink and began to walk back to the flat, albeit a little wobbly.
"Oh," Sirius started as they plodded down the street. "I forgot. We got a new roommate, I hope you don't mind." They had reached the door, and Harry stopped, confused.
"What?" he asked. "Not a woman?"
"No, unfortunately," Sirius answered, shaking his head vigorously as they began to climb the stairs. "I tried to do what you said, but it just hasn't worked out."
Harry laughed in spite of himself. "Jogging on the other side of the tracks then?" he inquired, smiling.
Sirius again shook his head vigorously and responded, "No, you dolt." Harry had a brief notion that Sirius might fall down the stairs, but decided not to pay attention to it.
"They reached their door. "I'll show you what I mean. WE'RE HERE!" he yelled as he opened the door and slammed it behind them. Harry heard a clatter from the previously unoccupied study/junk room and out of the doorway emerged none other than Remus Lupin, whom Harry hadn't seen since his 6th year at Hogwarts.
"Go to bed you git," Remus croaked groggily, slamming the door as he ducked back inside the room.
"Hey, 's no way to speak in front of Harry, you know," Sirius called, perhaps a little too loudly.
"Harry's here?" Remus replied sheepishly, opening the door again and stepping out.
"Hi! Sirius didn't say you were coming home!" He greeted Harry and shook his hand as best as he could. Remus sighed. "Not you too…" He walked back toward his door. "Sleep it off, you idiots," he muttered as he shut his door.
"What's up his arse, it's only…" Sirius sat on the couch and looked at his watch, but collapsed sideways and fell asleep before he could announce the hour.
"3:00am," Harry finished, grinned, and went back to his room to sleep.
***
The party in the Tower 7 common room went on for quite awhile that evening, and initially, Ron was happy. Girls of all ages were eager to meet the "tall redhead that hung out with Harry Potter" and Ron would have been lying if he said that he didn't enjoy the attention. He even met up with Angelina Johnson, his former schoolmate at Hogwarts and his brother Fred's girlfriend.
She was doing well, she said. School treated her right, and she was studying to be a medical specialist; she hoped to get a job at St. Mungo's after she graduated. They shared a few Fred stories and conversed about the successful joke shop the twins owned in Diagon Alley, and then she decided to sleep because she felt that she might be getting sick herself. He bid her goodnight, and then joined the chasers on his team in flirting with their throngs of adoring female fans.
Ron had a pretty good time, until he saw Hermione walk in on Krum's
arm. For one second their eyes locked, and nothing else was noticeable in the noisy room. He knew that she knew what he was doing, and what she was up to was rather obvious, and for that fateful moment he almost thought he saw a look of shame in her eyes…but then the second ended, and he came crashing back to reality (and Janet and Nell), and she sat down on a couch with Viktor and a glass of spiked punch. He didn't speak to her that night, nor she to him.
***
Harry woke the next morning initially thinking that his scar hurt, but then realizing that it was just his head. He groggily looked at the clock (noon) and made his way into the kitchen for a headache healing charm, some coffee, and hopefully some breakfast.
"Well, one of them's up," Remus sighed from the table as Harry emerged from the hall.
"Morning," Harry grunted, grabbing the "Quick and Easy Healing Charms" book from the shelf. A quick look around the room told him that Remus was eating lunch and that Sirius was still out cold on the couch.
"Page 53," Remus said without looking up from his sandwich. Sure enough, page 53 bore the heading "Common Drinking Ailments and their Cures."
"Had some experience with this?" Harry asked, pulling out his wand and scanning the page for headache cures.
"A little," Remus answered, smiling and shaking his head, "A little."
"So," Harry began, pouring himself some cereal. "When did you move in?"
"About a week ago."
"I don't mean to sound rude, but why?" Harry poured milk, brought the bowl and book to the table, and sat down.
"Sirius was bored, I was lonely and low on money, so we came to this wonderful mutual arrangement."
Harry nodded and turned to the next page in the book. "Have you found another job?" Harry asked thoughtfully, looking up at his former professor.
"Not yet, I'm working on it though. Had an interview this morning…don't think it went very well," he said, answering Harry's question before he asked it. "But I'm trying, and something's bound to come up eventually."
"Yeah," Harry replied, leaning back from the book and trying to ignore his headache; the print was awfully small.
"How are you doing in school?" Remus asked.
"Pretty good. It was hard doing everything at first, you know, Quidditch and homework and all, but I'm doing alright now."
"Yeah, auror training's tough. I went through it, except they used to give it to you right on the job. You'd have to follow someone for a year and go through intense schooling before you could start work. I guess that's what you're doing now?"
"Something like that. Lots of defense against the dark arts."
"Oh, I see." Remus took a bite of his sandwich. "If you ever need help with any defense against the dark arts stuff, just owl me and I'll do anything I can."
"Heh, you'll hear from me around exam time."
Remus grinned. "Anything for you, Harry."
"Oh," Harry started suddenly; "Did Sirius tell you that Snape's the defense against the dark arts teacher?"
Remus about choked on his sandwich.
Harry laughed and simultaneously felt triumphant as his eyes located the headache curing charm.
"How did that happen?!" Remus exclaimed, wiping his mouth.
"Rid me of this headache," Harry said, handing Remus the book, "and I'll tell you."
Remus took out his wand and muttered the incantation; however, after it had been performed Harry still felt a low, burning pain…
He suddenly turned white and clutched the front of his forehead.
"Harry?" Remus cried out, alarmed. For some mystical reason, their eyes simultaneously traveled to the kitchen counter where the unread Daily Prophet was lying, still tied from delivery. Remus walked over, picked it up, and untied it with Harry looking over his shoulder.
In the other room, Sirius Black woke with a yawn.
"Morning…hey, what's wrong?" he asked sleepily, stretching and observing the two panic-stricken faces in the kitchen, one of whom was holding his forehead. What Sirius didn't see was the headline of the paper,
MINISTER OF MAGIC FOUND DEAD,
and the accompanying photo of crime scene, featuring the words "The Dark Lord has Returned" scrawled on a desolate wall in the background.
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