CHAPTER THREE
WILL, PAIN, AND RAGE
After about fifteen seconds, Harry felt his feet make contact with the ground, followed a second later by his chest, and his nose a second after that. Then something landed on top of him—something with bushy brown hair that was spilling around the sides of his head. He suddenly found himself wanting for the mass on top of his body to never leave contact with his body.
She's your best friend, idiot! Besides, it's obvious Ron likes her, and likely as not, she likes him too said the analytical pessimist in his brain. He trusted this part of his brain the most when he had thoughts concerning Hermione, seeing as ever since he had started at Hogwarts, that part of his brain had almost always had Hermione's voice.
But... the part of his brain that was arguing for these feelings responded.
No buts. She likes Ron and that's that.
He heard what would be normal voices muffled through the web of hair, mostly making sure Ron, Hermione, and he were okay, then leaving. Ron walked off, mumbling something about getting all their trunks moved up to their rooms.
WHY IS SHE NOT GETTING UP?!? the analytical in him asked.
Maybe... the emotional part of his brain replied.
We agreed on this already. She likes Ron.
He quickly shook his head very hard. This apparently startled Hermione into action.
Hermione, ever the concerned friend, immediately rolled off him into a crouch beside his head. "Are you okay, Harry?"
He suddenly realized as she was helping him up that somewhere while Hermione was on top of him, he had adopted a peaceful, bemused grin.
"Perfect." Would have been better if you hadn't moved... SHE LIKES RON!!!
Damn...she noticed the grin. "What's got you chipper?"
You...WHY ARE THESE THOUGHTS PENETRATING YOUR MIND?
"Being in the Wizarding world again."
POP!
Both stood up rapidly, and turned to see who it was.
A foot away from the door stood Bill Weasley. Bill, the oldest of the Weasley children, was a Curse Breaker, working a desk job at Gringotts Bank.
"Hi Harry, Hermione. Listen, I can't talk right now, my boss just assigned me a report on curses on Muggle investments and it's due literally five minutes ago. One of the case workers in Account Management had this for you, Harry," handing Harry a roll of parchment. "He would have come himself, but he isn't allowed and he knew that I knew you, so he had me deliver it. Sorry I can't talk, but I've got that report to do. Good seeing you two."
And with another POP, he Disapparated.
"Wonder what that whirlwind visit was about," Harry said.
"Well, we won't find out until we look, now, will we?" said Hermione. "Let's head into the library to read it."
And off they walked to where Hermione said the library was, in the west wing of the house.
Harry and Hermione both sat down at a table, on either side of it. Harry unrolled the parchment.
He read for five seconds, then took on a look of total anguish, pushed the roll towards her, and squeaked out, "You read it to me. I can't read it alone."
Hermione began to read
Dear Mr. Potter,
As case worker managing the Black estate, I am the executor of the
will of the late Sirius Black.
As per Mr. Black's will, you have received all of the Black estate,
including all contents of the Black vault and the deeds to all Black
properties, excluding the deductions below.
To Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger, five hundred Galleons
each.
To Messrs. Fred and George Weasley, five hundred Galleons.
To the rest of the Weasley family, one thousand Galleons.
To Mr. Remus Lupin, the Black property in Dover.
To Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange, one Knut each.
To Miss Nymphadora Tonks, five hundred Galleons.
This leaves you with the remainder of the Black estate, worth
seventeen billion Galleons, seventeen Sickles, and fifteen Knuts.
Added to your previous account, this gives you a total estate worth
twenty billion Galleons.
My apologies on your loss.
Griphook
Case Worker
Accounts Management
GRINGOTTS WIZARDING BANK
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry had weakly attempted to stand, but was in danger of collapsing. She quickly hugged him to her tightly, feeling that he needed comforting.
"Hermione," he sobbed into her shoulder, "why me? Because of me, my parents died. Because of me, Voldemort is back. Because of me, Ron got attacked by that brain. Because of me, Sirius is dead. Because of me, you...you almost died." And he seemingly telepathically communicated to her the anguish he was feeling.
"I don't think I could stand losing you," he cried.
Unbeknownst to the two teens hugging in the middle of the library, there was a third person with them, having walked in as they hugged. The tall boy with flaming red hair watched as his two best friends embraced, and his pent-up rage for his best male friend grew even more.
WILL, PAIN, AND RAGE
After about fifteen seconds, Harry felt his feet make contact with the ground, followed a second later by his chest, and his nose a second after that. Then something landed on top of him—something with bushy brown hair that was spilling around the sides of his head. He suddenly found himself wanting for the mass on top of his body to never leave contact with his body.
She's your best friend, idiot! Besides, it's obvious Ron likes her, and likely as not, she likes him too said the analytical pessimist in his brain. He trusted this part of his brain the most when he had thoughts concerning Hermione, seeing as ever since he had started at Hogwarts, that part of his brain had almost always had Hermione's voice.
But... the part of his brain that was arguing for these feelings responded.
No buts. She likes Ron and that's that.
He heard what would be normal voices muffled through the web of hair, mostly making sure Ron, Hermione, and he were okay, then leaving. Ron walked off, mumbling something about getting all their trunks moved up to their rooms.
WHY IS SHE NOT GETTING UP?!? the analytical in him asked.
Maybe... the emotional part of his brain replied.
We agreed on this already. She likes Ron.
He quickly shook his head very hard. This apparently startled Hermione into action.
Hermione, ever the concerned friend, immediately rolled off him into a crouch beside his head. "Are you okay, Harry?"
He suddenly realized as she was helping him up that somewhere while Hermione was on top of him, he had adopted a peaceful, bemused grin.
"Perfect." Would have been better if you hadn't moved... SHE LIKES RON!!!
Damn...she noticed the grin. "What's got you chipper?"
You...WHY ARE THESE THOUGHTS PENETRATING YOUR MIND?
"Being in the Wizarding world again."
POP!
Both stood up rapidly, and turned to see who it was.
A foot away from the door stood Bill Weasley. Bill, the oldest of the Weasley children, was a Curse Breaker, working a desk job at Gringotts Bank.
"Hi Harry, Hermione. Listen, I can't talk right now, my boss just assigned me a report on curses on Muggle investments and it's due literally five minutes ago. One of the case workers in Account Management had this for you, Harry," handing Harry a roll of parchment. "He would have come himself, but he isn't allowed and he knew that I knew you, so he had me deliver it. Sorry I can't talk, but I've got that report to do. Good seeing you two."
And with another POP, he Disapparated.
"Wonder what that whirlwind visit was about," Harry said.
"Well, we won't find out until we look, now, will we?" said Hermione. "Let's head into the library to read it."
And off they walked to where Hermione said the library was, in the west wing of the house.
Harry and Hermione both sat down at a table, on either side of it. Harry unrolled the parchment.
He read for five seconds, then took on a look of total anguish, pushed the roll towards her, and squeaked out, "You read it to me. I can't read it alone."
Hermione began to read
Dear Mr. Potter,
As case worker managing the Black estate, I am the executor of the
will of the late Sirius Black.
As per Mr. Black's will, you have received all of the Black estate,
including all contents of the Black vault and the deeds to all Black
properties, excluding the deductions below.
To Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger, five hundred Galleons
each.
To Messrs. Fred and George Weasley, five hundred Galleons.
To the rest of the Weasley family, one thousand Galleons.
To Mr. Remus Lupin, the Black property in Dover.
To Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange, one Knut each.
To Miss Nymphadora Tonks, five hundred Galleons.
This leaves you with the remainder of the Black estate, worth
seventeen billion Galleons, seventeen Sickles, and fifteen Knuts.
Added to your previous account, this gives you a total estate worth
twenty billion Galleons.
My apologies on your loss.
Griphook
Case Worker
Accounts Management
GRINGOTTS WIZARDING BANK
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry had weakly attempted to stand, but was in danger of collapsing. She quickly hugged him to her tightly, feeling that he needed comforting.
"Hermione," he sobbed into her shoulder, "why me? Because of me, my parents died. Because of me, Voldemort is back. Because of me, Ron got attacked by that brain. Because of me, Sirius is dead. Because of me, you...you almost died." And he seemingly telepathically communicated to her the anguish he was feeling.
"I don't think I could stand losing you," he cried.
Unbeknownst to the two teens hugging in the middle of the library, there was a third person with them, having walked in as they hugged. The tall boy with flaming red hair watched as his two best friends embraced, and his pent-up rage for his best male friend grew even more.