Chapter Three
Life at Hogwarts for the summertime visitors quickly fell into something of a routine after the members of Puddlemere United left the castle the next morning, with thanks for their host and "see you soon" calls to Harry.
Harry rose every morning at six, did a light workout, showered, dressed and ate a substantial breakfast that Dobby brought up to him. After this, he would go out to the Quidditch pitch—where one or more of the members of Puddlemere United would be waiting for him. For hours, they would go over various ways in which the players on the team interacted with each other—Harry was somewhat familiar with most of them from experience, but the professional game had layers of subtlety that had been laid down over centuries, and Harry eagerly absorbed the knowledge that was being passed on to him. He dodged the padded practice Bludgers being fired at him without complaint, and the few substantial bruises he got were readily handled by Hermione—who had been studying simple Healing charms and was sitting in the stands, visibly reviewing the final chapters of the sixth year texts that Harry had cracked earlier that summer. After swearing Wizard's Oaths not to reveal any of the strategies or tactics they saw, the other Hogwarts inhabitants were invited to the practices as well. Ron watched raptly, wishing he could take notes for the Gryffindor playbook and mentally unraveling the various plays to try to extract useful information from them that could be passed on without violating his oath. Hermione kept one eye on things but continued studying fiercely. Ginny also had books out—she had taken the experience of her older friends on the O.W.L.s the prior month to heart and was poring over course outlines that Hermione had prepared. Neville usually had a Herbology text with him—it had been fairly obvious for years where his strength lay, in spite of recent developments that suggested he had hidden others. Luna—typically—was the only one without a regular routine. She did not wander onto the Quidditch pitch—much to Harry's relief—but she tended to spend time with each of the others. He had asked Hermione about it, and she had frowned and replied, "She may just be a bit restless, Harry—she's here to support you, but her heart is in hunting down monsters that don't exist! After we're all out of Hogwarts, we need to get her together with Hagrid—they'd be perfect for each other."
Harry had laughed at that, but saw Hermione's point: both Hagrid and Luna had a precarious relationship with what most in the Wizarding World would consider reality, but it seemed to work for them a whole. Luna seemed happy, and from Harry's vantage point above the stands, no one had seemed to mind spending time with her—including Ron, who had been uncomfortable with her in the past. He had asked Ron about it, and Ron shrugged and replied "She knows her Quidditch, Harry—and I have to admit, she's one of the nicest girls I've met at school. When she says something that sounds off, I just nod and we go on from there."
At noon, they would go in for lunch, with everyone sitting at the faculty table as before. Most of the faculty had apparently gone off on vacation, or—as was the case with Filch—habitually took his meals in his quarters to avoid socializing. The only adults at the table were Dumbledore, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and—much to the irritation of most of the students present—Professor Snape, who took a seat well away from any of the students and made a show of ignoring the other occupants of the table.
"Why is he around, anyway?" Harry had muttered after their third luncheon in the castle, as they went back to Gryffindor Tower to change. "Isn't he supposed to be spying on Voldemort?"
Hermione had started to respond, but had quickly restrained herself from replying upon seeing the stormcloud expression on Harry's face. Ron had unexpectedly frowned and replied, "V-Voldemort knows that Snape has duties here—that can't have been a problem before, or Snape'd never been able to go back to him to begin with. The git is probably taking his meals with us just so he can take notes to figure out new ways to take points away from us next year."
Harry had agreed and let the matter go, but he still felt a muscle twitch in his face every time he saw the Potions Professor go by in the halls. He was awaiting his O.W.L. grade in Potions with more than a little ambivalence, as the grade that would allow him to most readily follow the Auror career track would also doom him to two more years with a professor who despised him, and who would undoubtedly view an Outstanding Potions O.W.L. from him with profound suspicion.
Afternoons were pretty much free-form for the group of friends. On the afternoons when they didn't walk over to Hogsmeade as a group, they would often go their own ways. Ron and Ginny took advantage of the empty Quidditch pitch, firing and blocking Quaffles as Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration team continued to prepare the stands around them. Hermione sought out the library, and was taking advantage of a letter signed by Professor Dumbledore to examine certain texts in the Restricted Section—conditional on her promising to consult him or Professor McGonagall if she wished to experiment with any of the spells therein. Harry and Neville engaged in some serious dueling practice, with Madam Pomfrey setting up camp in the Room of Requirement with them, muttering that she might as well come to the source of all the work she would be getting. As in the mornings, Luna seemed to be content to drift from friend to friend, only occasionally going off on her own.
Harry had approached Professor Dumbledore with the suggestion that they start Harry's Occlumency lessons on some of the available afternoons, but the ancient wizard had demurred. "I believe that part of the problem you had with Professor Snape—along with your obvious animosity for each other—is that you were otherwise under tremendous stress, Harry. Even under the best of conditions, Occlumency training is strenuous—failing to account for that was another error on my part. I wish for you to be as rested and relaxed as possible when you begin your lessons again—in mid-August."
Harry had nodded—Dumbledore's reasoning made sense to him. Still, the trickle of fear that Voldemort would soon once again seek to exploit the connection between them to hurt those around him never completely left Harry as the days went by and the month of July drew to a close.
Evenings were, by mutual agreement, devoted to study. Ginny and Luna were poring over the fifth-year texts and the O.W.L preparatory materials that Harry had arranged to bring to the castle, with Professor McGonagall's blessing and assistance. Ron and Neville—neither of whom expected to be continuing in Potions—spent the time working with some of the early spells in the sixth year Transfiguration and Charms texts. Harry and Hermione—who were substantially ahead of the others, thanks to Harry's early summer studying and Hermione's customary reading habits—spent the time in the Room of Requirement, which did an excellent job of providing what was needed to test out some of the new charms and transfiguration spells.
Harry and Hermione did not rest on their laurels—they continued to press hard at testing the new spells, and Harry was rather embarrassed at the praise that Hermione was showering on him for it. On the night of July 27th, Harry encountered his first real moment of frustration related to the new material—he was trying to cast a spell that vaporized a substantial amount of water instantly, turning it into very hot steam. Unfortunately, the large birdbath he was using as a target was only bubbling slightly when the bright blue bolts hit the water. He tried once more, waving his wand and shouting: "Atmos!"
Once again, the blue bolt only created a mild disturbance in the water, and Harry muttered under his breath. Hermione wandered over from where she had been transfiguring snails into violins and saw that Harry was more than a little annoyed. She waved her wand and called out, "Atmos!" The blue bolt that came from her wand was far brighter than the one that had come from Harry's, and the effect was a large cloud of steam that filled the section of the room that the birdbath was in. Hermione beamed, then turned to see a sulky expression on her best friend's face. She sighed and walked over to him, commenting, "Good heavens, Harry—it took the imminent threat of being roasted alive by a dragon to get you to learn to cast a proper Summoning Charm, and now you're brassed off because it's taking you more than five minutes to master the Vaporization Hex? Someone's obviously developed a rather high opinion of themselves."
Harry chose to disregard Hermione's expression, which indicated rather strongly that she was glad that he was taking that attitude, and snorted loudly before retorting, "And how many times did you have to try to cast that hex before you made it work?"
Hermione shuffled her feet slightly before looking back at him and admitting, "Well, once—you just saw it." Harry's scowl grew more pronounced, and Hermione hastened to add, "But I practiced the incantation and the wand motion with a stick at home a lot. Harry, you still need to work harder at noting the theory behind the individual spells. The Vaporization Hex is unusually dependent on channeling the magical energy flow within the wizard's body in an efficient manner—this keeps the amount of energy used to perform the function from being debilitating. This means that the motion of the wand must be very precise—the slightest deviation will cause the spell to fail."
Harry sighed—he was having flashbacks to their first year Charms class, before they became friends, and Hermione was lecturing Ron about the proper pronunciation of "Wingardium Leviosa." He looked at Hermione in exasperation and replied, "Hermione, I've been trying to follow the directions, and yes—I did read the bloody theory notes. I just can't seem to do it right. Can you show me?"
Hermione seemed to hesitate for a moment, and Harry was wondering what was wrong when Hermione's lips seemed to tighten and she nodded once. She cast a quick spell to clear out the steam, and another to refill the birdbath, then stepped behind Harry and leaned up against his back, grasping his wand arm from behind as she spoke in a soft and somewhat strained tone: "Begin with your upper arm parallel to your body and your forearm parallel to the floor. Move your wrist in a counterclockwise circle three times without moving your arm. After the third circle is completed, raise your arm in one continuous motion to shoulder level, parallel to the floor, and say 'Atmos' at the precise instant the motion is completed." She was moving his arm as she spoke, and after she had raised his arm to shoulder level, she was silent for a long moment before whispering in a subdued voice: "That should do it."
Harry had been hard-pressed to pay attention to the instructions Hermione was giving him—he was rather distracted by the fact that Hermione felt a lot different pressed up behind him than she had when she had when she had given him similar instruction during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. The sensation had triggered a few thoughts that he had not previously associated with Hermione, even on the night of the Yule Ball when he had quite honestly thought that she had looked stunning. He swallowed hard, and considered saying something along those lines to her—girls liked compliments like that, didn't they? He was about to open his mouth when he remembered that Ron and Hermione had been clearly giving off signals that they were attracted to each other for years now—Ginny had pointed it out to him once, and he had been noticing the symptoms ever since, particularly Ron's jealousy about Viktor Krum. Hermione had never acted like that around him; obviously, she wasn't interested. Besides, it wouldn't be right to get between my two best friends trying to get together just because I've noticed that Hermione is a girl---OK, that she's a really, really, gorgeous girl. Doesn't matter—it just doesn't. He took a deep breath to recover his composure, and quickly moved his arm in the precise motions described by Hermione and shouted "Atmos!"
The blue bolt that came out of Harry's wand resembled the one that Hermione had produced, and the effect on the refilled birdbath was identical. Harry smiled—pleased that he had absorbed the lesson in spite of the major distraction—and turned back triumphantly to Hermione, who was looking uncomfortable for no reason that Harry could discern. He grinned at her and asked, "What's wrong? You taught me how to do it perfectly."
Hermione blinked, and her tone was brisk as she replied, "I was just concerned that I hadn't guided you through the motions correctly." She turned her back on him and Harry heard her mutter, "Your arms and back are a lot bulkier than I remember them being the last time I showed you a spell like that."
"Healthy eating and good exercise will do that to a growing boy, Hermione." Harry replied with a straight face. Hermione replied with an inarticulate grunt and went back to her books. Puzzled by her reaction but not inclined to bug her about it, Harry cleared out the steam and moved on to the next spell.
The end of July meant that Harry and Neville's sixteenth birthdays had arrived, and Professor Dumbledore had asked both of them what festivities they preferred—each having their own party on their respective birthdays on the 30th and the 31st, or one big party on one of the days. Both boys had quickly answered that a single big party on the 31st would work better—O.W.L. grades would be out on the 30th, and a lot of would-be guests would be rather distracted. Dumbledore had smiled—clearly pleased with their reasoning—and the owls had gone out announcing that there would be a big party at Hogwarts on July the 31st.
Both Harry and Neville had been told to invite whoever they wanted, and they had gone to the others and asked them for a list of people that they thought might want to come. Before long, a guest list had been produced that included the greater part of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, along with some rather notable alumni. The return owls had come quickly, and before long more than one hundred guests had replied with their intention to attend. Harry was pleased to see that Cho was one of the ones who had accepted. It had become pretty obvious that they were never going to be a serious couple, but he didn't want her to be angry with him—she had put a lot of hard work into the D.A., and she would undoubtedly be a valuable ally if the D.A. or a successor organization continued in the new school year.
Both Viktor and Oliver were also on the guest list, and Harry knew that the presence of the two professional Quidditch players at the party would lend some more glamour to it and would help the word-of-mouth for ticket sales. Besides—Hermione would like seeing Viktor again, and Harry himself wanted to size up his rival one more time before the day of the game.
The morning of the 30th dawned bright and early, as several dozen owls flew out all over Great Britain, sending along the results of the O.W.L. examinations. Four of the owls got the day off, as Professor Dumbledore solemnly delivered the letters to Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville. The four friends looked at each other, then opened their envelopes simultaneously. Neville's eyes widened and he crowed, "I passed everything! 'Adequate' in everything but Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, and DADA—and I got 'Exceeds Expectations' in those!" He turned to Harry and Hermione, wanting to thank them for all of the help they had given him—but he waited, knowing that they were occupied with their own scores. Ginny and Luna moved over to congratulate him while the others continued to read.
Ron looked at his letter more calmly: he had done all right, though there were a few annoying blemishes. He had managed "Acceptable" in Charms, Herbology, Astronomy and Potions, and was pleased to see "Exceeds Expectations" in Care of Magical Creatures and Transfiguration—the "Outstanding" in front of DADA positively thrilled him, though the "Poor" grades in front of History of Magic and Divination were bound to raise his mother's eyebrows a bit. Still—it's eight OWLs: not bad. He turned to Neville and smiled at him, then turned to his two best friends to see how their scores had gone.
Hermione was scowling at her letter: the distraction during the Astronomy practical exam had lowered her practical grade to "Exceeds Expectations"; fortunately, her performance on the theory section had more than compensated, giving her an "Outstanding" overall. Still, it had cost her the highest score in the class, and she was a bit put off by the whole thing. The other classes had gone more smoothly, and even her minor error in Ancient Runes had not cost her the top position in the class. The summary of her grades was rather monotonous:
Ancient Runes: Theory Outstanding/Practical N/A—Overall OUTSTANDING!
Arithmancy: Theory Outstanding/Practical Outstanding—Overall OUTSTANDING!
Astronomy: Theory Outstanding/Practical Exceeds Expectations—Overall OUTSTANDING
Care of Magical Creatures: Theory Outstanding/Practical Outstanding—Overall OUTSTANDING!
Charms: Theory Outstanding/Practical Outstanding—Overall OUTSTANDING!
Defense Against Dark Arts: Theory Outstanding/Practical Outstanding—Overall OUTSTANDING
Herbology: Theory Outstanding/Practical Outstanding—Overall OUTSTANDING! History of Magic: Theory Outstanding/Practical N/A—Overall OUTSTANDING!Potions: Theory Outstanding/Practical Outstanding—Overall OUTSTANDING!
Transfiguration: Theory Outstanding/Practical Outstanding—Overall OUTSTANDING!
!—Top score in the class
Your OWL totals are as follows:
10 Outstanding Overall Scores at 2 OWLs per score 20 OWLs
0 Adequate/Exceeds Expectations Overall Scores at 1 OWL per score 0 OWLs
You have a total of 20 OWLs, which total was equaled or exceeded by 0 students in your class.
A total of 2 students in the history of Hogwarts have equaled your total. A total of 0 students in the history of Hogwarts have exceeded your total.
Please accept our congratulations for a remarkable performance.
Sincerely,
Griselda Marchbanks
Head Examiner
The Wizarding Examinations Authority
Hermione forced down the trivial disappointment about the Astronomy exam—she had known all along that she would not be the top student in DADA—and took a moment to really smile before looking over at Ron and Neville and noting that they were clearly pleased with their results. She frowned with mild concern and turned to Harry—who was reading intently with a mildly stunned expression on his face. Hermione looked closely and saw that the letter with Harry's OWL results was sitting discarded next to him—he was reading another letter. Hermione hesitated a fraction of a second before deciding it was no time to heed proper manners and snatched the letter, scanning it quickly. Poor in Divination and History of Magic—no shock there: Harry hates both those subjects. Adequate in Herbology and Astronomy. Exceeds Expectations in Charms and Care of Magical Creatures. Outstanding in Transfiguration and in Potions! Harry can follow the Auror track! Outstanding and top of the class in DADA! 10 OWLs!
"Harry!" Hermione shed any inhibitions she might have had and hurled herself at Harry, hugging him fiercely. Harry put down the letter and returned the hug with enthusiasm. Hermione pulled back and stared at him, shouting, "Harry, these grades are great! Why aren't you more excited?"
"I am, Hermione—believe me." Harry still looked dazed, and Hermione's confusion grew as Harry shook his head and continued, "I was waiting for you to finish and tell you—then I saw there was a second letter in the envelope and I opened it—" He handed it to her, and Hermione began to read it quickly. After a few seconds, her jaw dropped.
Dear Mr. Potter,
First, let me congratulate you on your performance on the OWLs. While your marks were far from flawless, they were obtained under extraordinarily stressful circumstances. While your scores were not adjusted to reflect this fact, you should be aware that it is common knowledge by now what you were enduring during this last year, and I can assure you that anyone evaluating those scores when you pursue a career will take it into account.
Now to a more pressing matter. We have become aware of the role that you and Miss Hermione Granger played in forming the so-called "Dumbledore's Army" during the just-concluded term at Hogwarts. While it is not ordinarily part of our duties to comment on the activities of an organization which was illegal at the time it was formed and during the time of its operation, the circumstances dictate that we do so.
In short, Mr. Potter—well done indeed!
We have consulted the records of OWL examinations in DADA for the past century—the scores of this class are the highest in the past sixty years. Given the breakdown of scores between the various houses, it is glaringly obvious that the D.A.—which included no members from Slytherin House, according to news accounts—was the reason that a class which has suffered uneven instruction that culminated in malicious incompetence in this past year performed in such an outstanding fashion. Mr. Potter, if you find an inability to settle on a career after the nasty business with You-Know-Who is concluded, I would certainly urge you and Miss Granger to consider teaching: you both obviously have a pronounced gift for it.
It is the unanimous decision of this body that you and Miss Granger be awarded the Special Medal of Educational Merit, and that the medals be formally presented to you during the Welcome Feast of the next term at Hogwarts. You both have done a great service to the Wizarding World, and the Medal—which has only been presented nine times in the past century—is the least honor you deserve for going above and beyond the call of duty in insuring that our youth will be well equipped to resist those among us who have turned to darkness.
I trust that you will show this letter to Miss Granger as soon as possible—I decided to let her enjoy her remarkable OWL scores and let you give her this bit of news in its own good time.
I trust that your future will continue to be as remarkable as your past has been.
Safe journeys,
Griselda Marchbanks
Head Examiner
The Wizarding Examinations Authority
Hermione stared at the letter, and did not react as Harry squeezed her hand. After a moment, Harry leaned in and whispered into her ear: "Well, it certainly beats being chased around in the Forbidden Forest by homicidal centaurs."
Hermione snorted, then began to laugh. Harry shivered a little—there was enough pure joy in that laughter to light up the whole Great Hall. Ron came over to see what all the fuss was about, and when he finished the letter he looked at his two best friends and commented, "You two are going to be incredibly pleased with yourselves all day, aren't you?"
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and Harry replied, "Quite probably, yes."
Ron nodded grimly and looked at the two of them for a moment before breaking out into a grin and asking, "Mind if I tag along for the ride?"
Harry and Hermione shook their heads, and the three friends threw themselves at each other, making for a disorganized but jubilant group hug. Nearby, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall—having been tipped off about the contents of Harry's second letter—watched proudly as their favorite students celebrated.
Neville had slipped off and was heading back to his quarters to change for the walk out to the Quidditch pitch. He was pleased with his OWLs, but he knew this was a moment for the three longtime friends. He would congratulate them properly later---
"Mr. Longbottom—I require a few moments of your time on a matter of some urgency."
After the experience at the Ministry, no mere teacher would ever terrify Neville in quite the same way again. Still, the sudden appearance of Professor Snape from the shadows was enough to make him hesitate briefly before he straightened visibly, looked directly into the fathomless black eyes of his longtime tormentor, and replied simply:
"Of course, sir."
Snape seemed to examine him minutely for a moment, then turned and led Neville to his office. He motioned Neville to a chair and went to a tray on a shelf behind his desk. Neville blinked in surprise as Snape poured tea for both of them, then stepped behind his desk and sat down. Neville—at a loss for what to do—picked up his teacup and took a sip. He raised an eyebrow, and commented, "This is very good tea, Professor Snape—my Gram would love the recipe."
Snape smirked and replied, "It's a family secret—I'm afraid my ancestors would haunt me mercilessly if I let it slip." Neville blinked again—had Snape just made a jest that didn't involve tormenting a student? Snape noted the reaction and commented, "I'm surprised you drank it so readily, Mr. Longbottom—I'd have thought that you'd be afraid that I had poisoned it."
Neville shrugged. With the news of his OWLs and the improved situation for his friends, he was feeling better about things than he had in quite a while. "It wouldn't make much sense to poison me after I've finished my last class with you, Professor. Now, if you had given me a cup of tea just after I melted my fifteenth cauldron, I'd have sooner gone off to wrestle a basilisk than drink it."
Snape nodded thoughtfully, then replied, "You're more clever than I ever gave you credit for, Mr. Longbottom. Your performance on the OWLs has certainly made that clear—and your recent participation in the unfortunate events at the Ministry has certainly clarified how you ended up sorted in Gryffindor. I can't say that I'm sorry to see you leaving my class—you were rather disaster prone and I quite expected to meet my end during one of your mishaps." Neville looked away, embarrassed, and was surprised to hear Snape continue, "But the Examiners are rigorous and fair, and I am forced to conclude that you were able to take something away from my favored discipline in spite of your difficulties. I hope you make good use of it."
Neville needed a moment to recover after that comment. "Thank you, sir. If I may ask—what is the urgent matter you need help with?"
Snape took a moment to take a sip of tea, then replied, "As you may know, when I am not teaching here, or engaged in other matters of importance—" Neville—who knew of Snape's secret life as a spy against Voldemort—shivered a bit at the latter comment as Snape continued, "—I conduct research for the purpose of creating new potions of use to the Wizarding world. I created the Wolfbane Potion five years ago, which diminishes the threat that werewolves pose at the time of the full moon. I had not made any major new discoveries since that time—until two weeks ago, when I made a breakthrough in an area of interest to both my true allegiance and my assumed one. I have discovered a potion that will heal even the worst damage short of death inflicted by the Cruciatus Curse and similar magics."
Neville felt faint, and took another sip of tea before locking eyes with Snape and whispering: "My parents."
"Yes." Snape's voice was unusually gentle, and Neville swallowed hard as he continued, "I know you are aware of the therapies that St. Mungo's has applied up to now—they managed to repair much of the damage to their nerves, but some has persisted, and that has hampered efforts to deal with their psychological withdrawal from reality. Your parents are the most severely affected victims of Cruciatus to have survived their experience—my initial tests indicate that the basic form of the potion that I have created will suffice to repair some of their remaining nerve damage, but I fear it may not be enough to bring them fully back. There is a method that I believe will serve to strengthen the potion adequately to fully accomplish the task—but it will involve substantial hardship on your part."
Neville didn't hesitate. "Tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it."
Snape looked at Neville in silence for a moment, and Neville thought he saw a flicker of approval in the dark eyes before the Potions Master continued, "The potion can be strengthened by a distillation of a significant amount of blood from a close relative of the victim—the closer the relationship, the more power is involved. As their son, you are the ideal donor for both of them. Unfortunately, the blood all has to be donated within a short period of time—the amount involved would not be life-threatening, but you will need to spend five or six days at St. Mungo's and receive massive doses of Blood Replenishing Potion. Also—this matter will have to be conducted in complete secrecy: your friends will be given a cover story that you have contracted a rare ailment, and you must not talk to anyone else about this other than your grandmother and Professor Dumbledore—they are aware of the situation and gave me permission to discuss this matter with you."
Neville nodded. "I understand, sir. You-Know-Who would probably not approve of this particular use of your new discovery. I understand the risks you are taking, sir."
Snape blinked in mild surprise, and replied, "I won't ask how you know that, Mr. Longbottom. There is another reason for discretion besides your laudable concern for my safety. If it became known that your parents had regained their health and sanity, they would become important symbolic targets for the Dark Lord and his followers. There is one Death Eater in particular who would stop at nothing to see them lose their minds again, or dead."
Neville forced down the wave of hatred that welled up inside him at the reference to Bellatrix Lestrange, and replied coldly, "She'll have to go through me first, sir."
Snape nodded, but his voice was harsh as he replied, "Do not doubt that she can and will if the occasion arises, Mr. Longbottom. You have demonstrated competence that I would not have expected of you, and your willingness to face danger is unquestioned. But Bellatrix Lestrange is one of the most dangerous opponents you could ever expect to encounter, and no student—including our famous Mr. Potter—is likely to prevail against her without more experience and power than any of you possess at this time. Though I have little good to say about Sirius Black, he was a formidable wizard—I would strongly suggest you take his fate to heart before pursuing any plans to act against Ms. Lestrange. Vengeance is seductive—it tempts us to take actions that we know are foolhardy. Bide your time, and continue your training. The day may come when you can put paid to that debt." Neville nodded again, and Snape actually smiled slightly before saying, "We will begin matters on the 1st of August—Professor Dumbledore has prepared a Portkey for the purpose. Madam Pomfrey will provide the cover story about your illness, and a false story will be leaked to the Daily Prophet that suggests that a new death threat has been made against your parents. This will allow all three of you to be placed in a sealed, heavily guarded ward that will allow us to proceed in absolute privacy and security."
"I'll be ready, sir." The gratitude that Neville was feeling towards the man in front of him was greatly disorienting to him, and he found that he needed to depart. He stood and said, "I should get back to the others before they notice I've disappeared, sir. Thank you for the tea." Snape nodded, implicitly granting him permission to leave, and Neville left the office, unsettled but very excited about what the next few days would bring.
After the door had closed behind Neville, Snape looked at it for a moment before reaching into a drawer of his desk and pulling out a photograph. It showed two students sitting at a table in the Hogwarts library—they both appeared to be about sixteen years of age. One was clearly Severus Snape—his brow was visibly knitting as he read the massive potions text across from him. Sitting across from him was a lovely dark-haired, round-faced young woman who was looking over at Snape with concern visible on her face. Snape looked quietly at the photo for a long moment before whispering, "He's done remarkably well without you, Alice—but it's time he had you back." He put the photo away, scowled, and went back to studying the notes on the procedure that he would be following in a few days' time.
The Great Hall was bustling with activity, as house elves flitted from place to place, making sure that the castle's new guests were taken care of. It was the evening of the 30th, and the students who had not been distracted by the arrival of their OWL grades had taken advantage of the wording of the invitation to spend a night socializing—the fact that it would almost certainly be a Slytherin-free gathering was just a bonus.
Harry and his friends all found themselves in demand, and they ended up separated. Ginny and Luna were in a cluster of soon-to-be fifth year students, and—with a more or less full account of the events at the Ministry having been published—no one seemed inclined to tease Luna or hide her possessions. Neville seemed to be in a contemplative mood, but the Creevey brothers had cornered him and were relentlessly forcing a first-hand account of the events at the Ministry from him. Harry and Ron had attracted a big crowd—including Cho, who had greeted Harry with a warm hug and a whispered apology—and they were telling the gathered students about the upcoming transformation of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Word of Hermione's remarkable performance on the OWLs had leaked out, and a crowd of the curious and envious had surrounded her. Her willingness to help other students with their studies had made her popular over the years, and the students around her listened carefully to her insights about the exams she had just completed so successfully.
"She's amazing, isn't she?" Harry and Ron had taken their leave of their friends for a moment to get fresh glasses of punch, and they stood and watched their best friend command the complete attention of three dozen students as she spoke about the Arithmancy exam. Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and her hands moved in precise, quick patterns as she described a particular equation.
"Yeah, she is." Ron sounded wistful as he replied, and he continued looking at Hermione with an expression that matched his tone for a moment before he turned and saw that Harry was looking at him with a vaguely irritated expression. He blinked and asked, "What?"
Harry sighed and decided that enough was enough. He shook his head and whispered, "You two have made it obvious you fancy each other for two bloody years now—have you ever considered doing something about it, before she wanders off and finds some insufferable Ravenclaw like that Michael Corner idiot that Ginny was seeing last year?"
Ron blinked, and Harry braced himself for a blanket denial of any interest in Hermione. He was surprised when Ron sighed and shook his head sadly before replying, "I've been thinking about that for a while, Harry. Particularly during the last month." He rubbed his arm absently, where the welts from the brain attack had been. "Madam Pomfrey was right about thoughts leaving deep scars, and I've been having a lot of them." He looked bleakly at Harry and said simply, "I don't think we'd ever be able to make a go of it, Harry."
"Why not?" Aside from the concern he had for the well being of both of his best friends, Harry was genuinely curious—it wasn't as if he had any deep knowledge on romantic matters. "She's one of your best friends, she's the smartest witch at Hogwarts, and you two fancy each other—what could be wrong with it?"
"It's not that simple, Harry." Ron looked back at Harry, and—for the first time he could remember—Harry had the sense that his friend was somehow older and wiser than he was. Ron shook his head in mild frustration, then said quietly, "I'm not right for her, Harry—I never will be. Look at her—she's got forty students at a party standing there listening to a bloody Arithmancy lecture! Once we finish off that snake-faced bastard and graduate, you'll be a great Auror or one of the best Seekers in professional Quidditch, and Hermione will probably be Minister of Magic or Headmaster here by the time she's thirty. I'll do all right for myself—we Weasleys always do, even if we don't have money or power. But Hermione's going places that I can't even dream of, Harry—she needs someone who can be her equal. As much as I care about her—that's not going to be me."
Harry swallowed hard—he felt that he should say something to Ron, tell him that he was being too hard on himself. He opened his mouth—then closed it as he looked into Ron's eyes and saw the glimmer of hard-won wisdom in them. Whether it was the effect of the brain attack or simple maturity, Ron had looked deep within himself and found a painful truth there. Harry looked down for a moment, and there was profound sadness in his eyes as he looked back up and asked, "Does Hermione know you feel this way?"
Ron shook his head. "We've never talked about any of it—it would be a bit awkward to tell her that it would never work between us before ever bringing up that there could be an 'us.'" Harry nodded, and Ron continued, "There's someone else I think I might want to make a go of it with—don't know if she's even given me a second thought. I think I might want to find out, though."
Harry frowned, then reached out and clasped Ron's hand as he whispered, "Then do find out, Ron—I just hope Hermione doesn't take it too hard."
Ron nodded. "Me too. Let's get back to the others—Viktor will probably be here later tonight, and I want to shamelessly brag about you a little more without brassing off any of your guests."
Harry laughed, and the serious discussion was forgotten as they rejoined the party.
. . . to be continued
As always, comments are welcomed and desired