Disclaimer: No! No! NO! I don't own anything!
a/n: I a terribly terribly terribly terribly sorry for taking absolutely and horribly ages to write and update this story! My enormous sorry's go out even further to American Jen who probably hates me right now but I have been so busy recently and even when I thought I had this done and dusted, I go and fall ill and I'm stuck in bed too sick to move! Slap me, kick me, spit at me (maybe not the last one!), I deserve it!
Chapter 8: Melted feelings
"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione squealed excitedly. Standing at the entrance of the cave, his form emerged in darkness, their headmaster loomed over them. In that moment, a cold chill engulfed the shelter and crawled across their skins, relishing in their sudden fear. Hairs prickled on their arms, knuckles turned white. But as soon as it had appeared, it had gone.
"Harry, Ron, Hermione," he acknowledged gravely. His face was etched with worry and concern, though Harry couldn't understand.
"Why aren't you happy, sir?" Harry asked "I mean, now that we can turn Peter in, Sirius' name can be cleared! This is the best news I've had in ages."
Dumbledore's face fell even further, if it was possible. A long silence ensued, uncomfortable and deafening. Sirius stood masked in the corner, whilst the professor lit a fire to warm out their sopping wet clothes. Within minutes, he had conjured up 5 steaming mugs of butterbeer and a plate of cakes.
"There's no point in standing there," he told them, inviting them to sit down with a smile. "I've arranged an appointment with the ministry for early this evening. They won't see us until then. We might as well have a snack now whilst it rains." Ron and Harry didn't need any more encouragement, and Sirius hadn't eaten in a very long tie. Before long they were all seated around the fire eating cakes and war pastries.
It was a very merry time for all of them. They had all forgotten about Peter who lay wrapped up and silent in the darkest and coldest part of the cave, left in his misery to hear the gentle cracking of the burning fire and the smells of delicious food that teased his nose. Sirius told them all of his plans after his name would be cleared. Harry was lost in his own thoughts of never having to live with the Dursley's again and hate the summer holidays. Dumbledore, well no-one really knew much about what he was thinking about. He just smiled warmly, the fire illuminating his old yet jolly face.
Hermione sat in silence next to Ron, picking at her food slowly, not really hungry. She listened carefully to what was being said, but remained silent. She was happy for Harry, truly she was. But she couldn't keep her thoughts in check, and the heat of the fire wasn't helping. Her mind was beginning to cloud over and she felt very tired. The air was too stuffy for her liking; she needed some cold, fresh air.
"Excuse me," she interrupted. "I'm just going to stand outside for a while, it's too hot in here." She smiled politely before she quickly hurried from the cave.
The cold breeze rippled through her hair and lashed across her face, tinting her nose and ears pink. The sky was cloudy and dark, Hermione noticed far down below the pretty orange glow that emanated from Hogsmeade. It annoyed her, and at that very minute in time Hermione hated the fact that she was so close to it. She wanted to be as far away as possible from Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, Harry and Ron, her schoolwork, the library, in fact, Hermione was quite sure that she didn't even want to be a witch at that moment.
Harry definitely didn't like her at all in the way that she had hoped, prayed, dreamed that he would. She was pretty sure that he didn't even like her as a friend anymore, the way that he couldn't even bring his gaze to meet hers. Throughout the rest of the afternoon he had blatantly ignored her, not once speaking to her. She had done her best at first, trying hard to try and ease the tension that was so thick even the sharpest knife could not cut it. But he refused to take the hook that she was offering him, and though she hated to admit defeat, Hermione still had her pride and if Harry didn't want to be at least her friend any more, then fine. He could have it his way.
Hermione was so wrapped up in her misery that she failed to notice that it had started to rain again, albeit a light shower. It fell like ice, it was almost snow. It fell lightly into her hair, speckling it white and silver, before it slowly melted and was gone forever. 'Pretty much how I wish my life would be like, be here one moment and gone the next' Hermione used to herself, hugging her dap cloak closer around herself. Knowing that if she stayed outside any longer it might as well be seen as an act of suicide, Hermione made her way slowly back inside.
The sound of laughter rang like bells in her ears; she could see the shadow of the flames dancing with the darkness. Obviously she hadn't been missed. Hermione thought she might as well return to the castle, but then she remembered that Sirius and Ron were still her friends, and Sirius would need all the support that he could get.
"There you are," Ron yelled, Hermione detected faint hints of worry etched in his voice. "You've been gone for ages! Aren't you cold?" She nodded warily, now relishing the heat from the fire. A quick glance told her that Sirius and Dumbledore were sat in the opposite corner, deep in discussion, oblivious to the life around them. She also didn't fail to notice Harry's eyes watching her intently, and she was sure that she could detect some sort of flicker of emotion in the before she forced herself to glance away. It was nothing you idiot, she told herself firmly. You have to face facts that he will never like you in that way.
"Sorry," she uttered to Ron, too depressed to listen to his mindless moans and groans. "Got swept away in my thought, thinking about Christmas and such. . ."
Harry heard the pointed way in which she seemed to force the last words out, stabbing each and everyone into his skin where the pain ran slowly through his body. It took a degree of mental control that Harry had no idea that he possessed to keep himself from screaming out loud what he was feeling. He could tell the way that Hermione had stormed off earlier that she couldn't stand the sight of him anymore; he had obviously made a mistake last night. If only I hadn't told her that it meant nothing, he screamed at himself. If only I hadn't been such a damn coward and told her the bloody truth. How come I can fight the most powerful and evil wizard that this world has ever seen, but I can't tell my best friend that I love her more than words can say!
It was no use, but no matter how much he screamed and yelled and tortured himself, Harry knew that there was no chance for him now to repair the damaged past. He was going to have to live with his mistakes and tell Hermione that he was terribly sorry for the hurt and ruin he had caused their friendship. He would tell her that he didn't have a clue what had come over him, but if it had affected their friendship he was dreadfully sorry and wished more than anything to be best friends again.
Yes it was another lie, but he had told so many now what was the point in telling the truth? He shivered slightly, the fire was beginning to die down and the coldness spread across the entire cave like a cheetah across the plains of Africa. Maybe if I-
"Are you ready Harry?" A heavy weight fell onto his shoulder, lifting Harry away from his torturing thoughts. He looked up and saw a very excited Sirius. Okay, he had to admit that there were bags under his eyes, his face was dirty and his hair long and greasy, and the fire that burned in his eyes was dying out, like the glint in the eyes of a lion trapped within a cage at the zoo. Harry knew that he had to stop thinking about himself and Hermione, and more about Sirius. If this fell through. . .
"Ready as I'll ever be," he replied, giving his godfather a war hug. "Aww Sirius, you really need a bath. You stink!" he joked, knowing that that was the best way to lighten the mood and hide his feelings.
"You know Harry, you don't look a pretty picture yourself! Our hairs all a mess, your clothes have expanded ten ties and you're looking a little muddy! I say we're quite alike at the moment."
"If everybody is ready," Dumbledore cut in, his cold and hard demeanour now in charge. He held out a Danish pastry in front of him, holding onto the forgotten traitor that had lay silent for the whole afternoon. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sirius all held on tightly, waiting patiently. They could hear the world spinning around them before they could feel it, before they could see it. The world around them began to fade, and the grey and the black seed to swarm into one another. After what felt like an eternity, things seemed to spin back into perspective. Harry noticed with a grin that they were standing outside a large wooden door, the words 'Ministry of Magic' printed proudly in black.
Dumbledore knocked lightly on the door, waiting patiently for a reply. It was all that Harry, Ron and Hermione could do but to storm through the door and turn Peter in as quickly as possible. But a feeling deep inside Professor Dumbledore told him that it may not be as easy as they thought.
"How long do we have to wait?" Ron asked impatiently, glancing around at their surroundings rather unappreciatively. "I could be playing chess or-"
"Ron!" Hermione hissed, slapping him on the arm. Ron closed his mouth, realizing what he had just said. Dumbledore knocked on the door again, this time a little bit more harshly. He didn't have to wait for very long. A loud creek disturbed the silence as a small and rather round wizard poked his nobly nose around the door.
"Ah yes," he whispered, his words almost slurred, Harry decided almost instantly that he wasn't a wizard you'd want to cross, despite his size. "Albus Dumbledore, do come on in. We have a lot to discuss. And- ah, Mr Sirius Black, we've been searching for you for a rather long time. I guess we'll be hearing from you as well. Do come on in."
He vanished behind the large door, pulling it back with him. What he revealed was nothing of what Harry would have thought the Ministry of Magic to be like. He had no idea that there would be boxes littered all along the hall, with papers spilling out by the dozen. At the end of the hall there was a rather old fashioned yet rather impressive oak staircase that led up to another set of doors.
"If you'll follow me," he drawled, Harry was beginning to dislike him even more and more. He hurried off, heading straight for the stairs.
"This is it!" Sirius whispered excitedly. "I'm going to be free!" If only he knew that it wasn't that simple.
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Sorry it took so long for this chapter to come out. Just so everyone knows, I (American Jen) do not hate British Jen for not having the chapter sooner. It wasn't her fault that she was sick. Hopefully, the next chapter will be up soon…. And more fluff soon to come!
Also, I have school stuff to do so I can't do the proper thank you things so all I have time to say is THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED AND READ THE STORY.
PS: I WANT TO ASK YOU ALL TO CHECK OUT MY (American Jen) STORY UNDER THE NAME FlyingSheepAirlines AND BRITISH JEN'S STORY UNDER THE NAME DreamWeaver!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
