I want to respond to a review that I got asking how I could possibly think Ron and Hermione don't belong together. Well, if said reviewer will read Hermione's last outburst at Ron, what you are reading there is my true opinion. What I have stated there is truly how I see a Ron/Hermione relationship ending up. I truly do not believe that Hermione could ever be satisfied by someone so shallow and obviously jealous of those around him. Anyway, enough of my rantings and on we go.
Chapter Twelve
Harry stood where he was for a moment, torn between going after Hermione or going back in to the kitchen and giving Ronald Weasley another, and hopefully more effective, lesson in manners. It seemed, however, that Mrs. Weasley had the same idea in mind. Hardly had the door closed behind the distraught girl than Molly's shrill voice began ringing out, asking Ron what he was thinking of treating his best friends in the manner he had, and how he could possibly be jealous of what Harry had done when it had obviously saved lives.
She had just demanded that Ron go apologize to Harry and Hermione, voice rising louder with every couple of words, when the shriek came.
"FILTHY MUDBLOOD WHORE! HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THIS HOUSE WITH YOUR PRESENCE? I SUPPOSE BY NOW YOU'VE ALREADY SERVICED EVERY MALE IN THE HOUSE. AFTER ALL, THAT IS WHAT DIRTY FILTH IS GOOD FOR. DO IT ELSEWHERE, SOMEWHERE THAT DOES NOT INVOLVE MY NOBLE HOUSE, FOR YOU SHAME IT WITH YOUR -----"
CRACK!
Harry felt a shift in his surroundings and suddenly he was standing next to a wide-eyed Hermione, mouth opened in shock with tears streaming down her rapidly reddening cheeks. He did not know how he had come to be where he was, nor at the moment did he care. White, blazing rage was coursing through him, and this time there was no comforting touch of a Jedi to calm him down. Nevertheless, his words were quiet and calm, yet danger oozed from every word.
"Dear lady," he said smoothly. "I would like to ask you one question if I may."
"FILTHY HALF-BREED SCARRED SCUM. I WILL ANSWER NOTHING FR---"
"SILENCE!" The roar was so loud that it made Mrs. Black's screams seem like mild whisperings from a house across the block. Hermione grabbed on to Harry as the floor beneath them gave a lurch, and from somewhere down below them came the sound of something breaking. Harry was not aware of it. Nor was he aware of the frightened girl clinging on to his left arm, and only barely cognizant of the footfalls of several sets of feet as Sirius, Remus and Arthur Weasley came pounding up the stairs from the kitchen. All of his attention had been focused on the portrait of the old lady in front of him who had fallen silent in shock, staring at him with a mixture of hatred, disgust, and not a little fear.
"Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Harry continued in his previous mild voice. "I have a question to ask you, but whether you answer or not is inconsequential."
He gave the portrait a moment to consider his words, then continued.
"Any last words, Mrs. Black?"
The aristocratic features on the old witch gave way suddenly to a growing alarm. Fruitlessly, she tried to back away from the young wizard Jedi who unconsciously had been edging ever nearer to the curtained alcove, still unaware of a certain Hermione Granger clinging to his arm, being dragged forward with him.
"Y-you can't get rid of me, boy," Mrs. Black stated, though in a much quieter tone that left no doubt in anyone's mind that she was far from sure of what she had said. "Just because you have that lightning bolt on your forehead does not mean you have the ability to destroy me. I've been here since before you were born, boy, and I'll still be here when you are a broken, bleeding bag of bones at the Dark Lord's feet."
Harry ignored her completely, turning to the three men behind him who were standing transfixed by the confrontation taking place.
"Padfoot, do you want her to stay around?"
That was enough to jerk Sirius out of his stupor, and he shook his head once, firmly.
"Very well," Harry said, and turned back to the portrait, whose voice was beginning to rise as Mrs. Black continued to ramble about what the Dark Lord would do to the scarred freak once Harry was in his clutches.
"Well, dear lady," Harry said, and this time his voice was as cold as a winter snowstorm, though a pale green fire seemed to blaze in his eyes. The look was enough to shut Mrs. Black up for the second time.
"I am going to tell you what I told someone earlier. I don't care what you say about me. I don't care if you think I am the scum of the earth. I don't even care that you happen to believe Voldemort will ... Hmmm, what was it that you said? Ah, yes! I don't care if you believe that Voldemort will "keep my balls for use in a couple of Quidditch matches and enchant them to fly around as Snitches", though actually Quaffles would be more appropriate."
Sirius let out a bark-like laugh from behind him. A thin smile broke out on Harry's face, but it was short lived. When he next spoke, the slight joking quality had left his voice.
"But for what you said to Hermione and the way that you have treated the most decent member of your House that I am sure your family has ever spawned, I have decided that you are going to have to go away. Permanently!"
Mrs. Black made no sound to this. Mrs. Black had no chance to make a sound. A brilliant golden glow lit the room; there was a sound like ripping tape, a loud, ringing scream of agony, and a dull thud as the portrait of Mrs. Black hit the ground in two smoking pieces.
For a moment, silence reigned, all the onlookers being too stupefied to speak. Then, there was a sniff was heard issuing from the throat of one Sirius Black.
"Harry, me lad," the man said in a choked voice. "With your actions today, you have seen to the happiness of one Mr. Padfoot, marauder extraordenaire! Also, through Mr. Padfoot's own happiness, you will also hopefully contribute to the happiness of one Mr. Moony."
He finally looked up at Harry, a maniacal grin now prominent on his face. He then turned to Remus, and the two men exchanged a look. With a small smile on his tired face, the werewolf nodded.
"Messrs. Padfoot and Moony, in recognition of your valiant deeds today would like to offer you the title of the new marauder."
He paused for a moment, seeming to be deep in thought. Harry took this time to notice that the haunted look on the fugitive's face appeared to be absent completely for the first time since he had met the man. Then, with a lopsided grin on his face that made him resemble the Sirius from Harry's parents' wedding, he snapped his fingers.
"Mr. Padfoot would like to welcome Mr. Blazer in to the Marauders."
"Mr. Moony would like to also welcome Mr. Blazer in to the Marauders and would also like to thank him for his heroic actions in the destruction of a crazy old bat who had not realized that she had missed her train to hell."
Sirius, for the second time in as many minutes, roared with laughter. Harry felt a smile break out on his own face as he stared at the two Marauders who remained. Even Hermione and Mr. Weasley were smiling, although only one knew exactly why.
And with the feelings of all of the happiness around him, Harry felt the light move in to fill him completely, a feeling he had not known since he had first seen the vision of the Grangers being tortured.
TBC