The Cure – Chapter Two11.12.04

By: Aelfswythe

Ron passed the quiz – barely. Harry managed an A- despite his concern over Hermione. Ron took his poor grade badly and pouted at lunch, poking at his food.

"Ron." Harry gave him a sympathetic look. "How did you expect to pass with so little studying? Is an Auror what you really want to be?" He had a hard time hiding his pleasure at his more favorable grade.

Ron scowled, more at himself than anything. "Yeah, it is, actually. I know I've been a lazy ignoramus, but I'm starting to realize that I don't want to end up like Fred and George, however well off they seem."

"You might be too late," Harry mumbled.

"Now you're starting to sound like Hermione," Ron protested.

Harry defended himself. "Well, maybe she was right all along!"

The boys sat and thought about that for a minute.

"Kind of scary isn't it?" Harry asked quietly.

"I hate it when she's right!" Ron pounded the table with his fist.

Harry looked forward to every Tuesday and Thursday with excited anticipation. Professor Lupin, though weary and haggard-looking most of the time, was teaching the seventh years exclusively and Harry loved every moment. Lupin taught each class with a contagious enthusiasm, while impressing a deep sense of responsibility and seriousness upon his students on the craft. All of them looked up to him greatly.

Harry shared the class with eight students including Ron and Hermione whom were all studying in roughly the same field. When they entered the classroom Tuesday morning, Harry purposely sat next to Hermione with the remembered vow to be watchful of her.

Professor Lupin began reviewing the reading from the previous class, and Harry was surprised to hear Hermione's quill scratching violently. Why would she need to take notes on review? He stared at her, perplexed. Gradually, he noticed that she would look up at Lupin, study him for a few moments, her forehead creased in concentration, and then she would bend back over her parchment and scratch away. Over and over she did this while Lupin remained oblivious to her actions.

Having lost track of what the Professor was talking about, Harry leaned over slightly to look at Hermione's parchment. His curiosity overwhelmed him. He had to know what she was writing. He couldn't quite see the page and so he leaned closer. If he could just stretch a bit further…

All of a sudden he lost his balance and fell over with a crash, sending his chair skidding across the aisle away from him. The class erupted into laughter, interrupting the Professor.

"Having a bit of a problem with gravity, are we, Mr. Potter?" Lupin stared Harry down, his eyes full of meaning: Harry was 17 years old! Shouldn't he be acting his age?

Blushing furiously, Harry scrambled to get back into his chair. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry sir," he mumbled and ducked his head in embarrassment. Needless to say, he kept his head facing forward for the rest of the period.

After class was over Harry ran to catch up with Hermione.

"What was all that writing you were doing in class, Hermione?" He asked, barely managing a casual air.

Hermione rolled her eyes, sighing violently. "Can't I take notes without you babysitting me? I supposed you were trying to copy them, weren't you? Leave me alone, Harry." She sped away from him.

Harry stood frozen in the hallway. "But Hermione! That's not – Oh, forget it!" He stormed off to his next class. The need to know what was on her parchment ate away at him the rest of the day.

By the time he made it up to the common room he was desperate to know, and didn't quite understand why. Deep down he felt that her scribbling was the key to whatever was driving Hermione into seclusion. He spotted Ginny cuddling with Neville on the sofa in front of the fire. (He'd gotten rather dashing in his late-teen years.) Suddenly, Harry had an idea.

He set down his book bag and walked over to Ginny who looked up at him and smiled. Neville grinned a bit sheepishly. (Ginny was his first-ever serious girlfriend. Heehee how cute.)

"Hi, Harry!" she said brightly.

"Hey, Ginny. Hi, Neville. Say, Ginny, I was wondering if you could do be a favor?"

"Sure! What is it?"

"I need you to steal some notes of Hermione's for me?" The end of the sentence turned into a question and he cringed. It sounded bad when he put it that way.

Ginny frowned. "What makes you think I would ever do that? Not only would I be stealing from my friend, she'd kill me if she found out."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, whatever you think, it's not to copy notes for homework. She's been acting a bit odd lately and I'm worried about her. She studies so much it's not healthy! I think she's working on some top-secret project but isn't telling us. I need to find out what it is." He knew his argument wasn't a very good one, but he looked to Ginny hopefully.

"Why do you have to know what it is? Don't you think there's a good reason why she'd want to keep it a secret?"

"AHA! So it is a secret project!" Harry grinned at her triumphantly.

Ginny sighed. Sometimes Harry could be so annoying. "So, what if it is? Why do you have to know? If she wanted you to know she'd tell you."

Harry sank down onto the sofa. "Look, she wants me to pay more attention, and I am. She's making herself sick with all this studying. Have you ever seen her eat more than a few bites at supper? I haven't seen her at breakfast for the past week. As her friends we need to get her to stop. This is serious and I think her notes are the key to all this."

Ginny rubbed her forehead, thinking. "All right." She said in resignation. "She's working on an impossible cure, and she's convinced she's really close. She refuses to stop until she finds it. That's all I can tell you." Ginny's eyes begged him not to ask her any more.

Harry was itching to find out what the cure was for, but he backed off.

"Thanks, Ginny. Are you sure there's nothing we can do for her?"

Ginny thought for a minute. "You know, I really think she'd appreciate some hot chocolate at this point. She's afraid of leaving her books for even a second in the chance that she'll stumble across something in her meditation or whatever. Really, she'd like that." Ginny smiled at him, almost in dismissal.

Harry knew a hint when he saw one and left the couple to cuddle and went down to the kitchens. The house elves were more than happy to get him hot chocolate, along with some crumpets and a mug of chocolate for himself as well. Harry trudged back up to the tower with the treats and had a girl go up and call Hermione, but she emerged saying Hermione wasn't there.

Puzzled, Harry wandered back out into the hall, and with a sudden revelation headed for the correct wall. He stood in front of it thinking aloud of a room to study in with peace and quiet. A door sprouted up from the floor and Harry entered the Room of Requirement. As he expected, Hermione was hunched over in a huge squashy armchair, the table beside her piled in large books.

Hermione looked up in surprise to see Harry enter the room. He closed the door behind him.

"Hi," he smiled at her. "I thought you might be hiding in here. I brought you some hot chocolate. It's nice and hot and has marshmallows."

Hermione was speechless. She looked so exhausted. Harry hid a frown. His old friend was running herself into the ground! Didn't she realize this? She reached out for the steaming mug. Harry asked the room for another chair and it popped up from the floor. He sat in it contentedly, holding the crumpets in the napkin on his lap.

Hermione took one sip of her cocoa and burst into tears. "Oh, Harry!" was all she could manage and continued to sob. Not sure of what to do, he just sat there.

"It's okay, Hermione. You don't have to say anything. I've just missed you, that's all. I know you're busy with your project and everything, but we haven't talked in so long. I wanted to see how you were doing and if there was anything I could do to help you. You've helped me so many times. I don't even know if I've ever told you, 'Thank you'." The words just seeped out, seemingly from nowhere, but really they came from somewhere deep inside of him. It was a strange feeling, but it felt good saying them because he meant them.

She only sobbed harder. She had to set the cocoa down on the table, her hands were trembling so badly. When she'd cried herself out (a good five minutes by Harry's reckoning) she took a few hiccupy breaths. "How did you find out about my project?"

"Well, I don't know exactly what it is, Ginny wouldn't tell me, but I had some suspicions. I wish you would tell me. Maybe I can help."

Hermione laughed a little at this, wiping her cheeks. "No, Harry, you can't, but thank you. It's something I need to do myself. It's my final project, one that proves that all my hard work at Hogwarts has been worth it."

Harry shifted in his seat. "Well, what is it?"

Hermione picked up her cocoa and took a long drink. "Aah," she sighed happily. "This cocoa is just perfect. Thank you." She gazed at her friend over the rim of her mug in another drink. He'd grown tall and lean in the past few years, the quidditch playing toning him nicely. His black hair was still as unruly as ever with narrow sideburns. His green eyes sparkled behind stylish new glasses, which were quite becoming. His clothes were neat and trendy, and the scar on his forehead had faded a lot. People hardly ever noticed it anymore. She smiled to herself. It was a wonder Harry wasn't hounded by girls in the halls all the time.

Bringing herself back to his question she set down her mug again and sighed. "You have to promise not to tell a soul about this. Not until I say you can." She gazed at him seriously.

"Of course, Hermione. I swear. Not even to blabbermouth Ron." She smiled, forcing down a giggle. Ron was just as capable of keeping a secret as Harry was. They were both good friends, and Harry was trying to cheer her up. She was happy to note that it was working.

Growing serious again she leaned towards him. "For the past two years I've been working on a permanent cure for werewolf bite."

Harry's eyes grew wide. "But that's impossible!"

Hermione grunted. "So I've been told. But I'm really close Harry! I'm so close I can feel it!"

The look in her eyes was so intense it scared him slightly. It was almost as if she had to find this cure or she would never be able to live with herself. He wondered why it mattered to her so much.

"I believe you, Hermione," he said instead. "I really hope you find it. There's at least one person I know who would love you for the rest of your life and beyond if you found a cure."

At this Hermione blushed furiously. "Well, I-I'd be finding the cure for anyone with the affliction, of course," she stammered.

"Of course." Harry gave her an odd look. Why was she acting so funny? He decided to ignore this for now, however. "Well, I wish you luck. I'm sorry I can't really help you, but let me know if you think of something. I'll leave you alone to study now." He stood, taking one last swig of his cocoa.

Hemione leapt to her feet and walked with him to the door. "Oh, Harry, you've already helped me far more than you know. It's such a relief to have another friend understand my burden."

Harry rested a hand on her shoulder and gazed seriously into her warm brown eyes. "Hermione, even if you don't find a cure, what you've done here won't be for nothing, you know. You've been one of the greatest friends I've had, always loyal and concerned. I'd never trade you for anything, even if you do nag a bit." He winked at her and grinned.

Hermione leapt up and hugged Harry fiercely. "Thank you," she whispered and gave his cheek a light kiss.

Harry left the Room of Requirement, feeling as if his soul had been cleansed. He shook his head. He felt overwhelmed, amazed, and slightly unnerved by all the emotion that had just run through him. "I need a good hard game of quidditch, that's what," he mumbled to himself and went to find Ron.