Harry was in heaven. There was no other way to describe it. He had finished his training for the day, and was currently reclining on a couch reading, but this wasn't the good part. He shared the couch with Hermione, who faced the same way, but was acting as a pillow for Harry, letting him lean back against her stomach as she read the same book he was, while wrapping her arms and legs around him.
It was incredible how fast they got over the awkward phase that exists at the beginning of each relationship. Perhaps it stemmed from over six years of friendship. Perhaps it stemmed from their constant exposure to each other for six months before the relationship started. Or perhaps it was as Harry hoped … that they were perfect for each other.
They had only been an item for less than a day, and they were already comfortable enough with each other to pass as long time lovers. Harry was purring because of the contact, making it hard for both of them to concentrate enough to read the words of the book.
Hermione's statue was standing proudly on the table, shrunken down to become a glass figurine that doubled as a bookend that occasionally would move and wipe dust off the closest book. Hermione had worked for over an hour to make the calculations for that bit of animating charm, and Harry was proud of her. Of course, she had not practiced on her statue first, that would have been reckless, no, she somehow managed to replicate the statue as it was made of glass, and now had four of them, all with the same enchantments on them. They would be very useful in a small library or reference collection in an office.
Ron had avoided them like they carried the plague since they first kissed in front of him, and Ginny had sighed and reasoned that he would grow out of it and realise he was not in the right to make a remark like he had. Although she privately stated that she was happy the two of them had gotten their act together and become an item.
'Harry,' Hermione interrupted, 'I think it's time for bed.'
OK, Harry agreed and marked his page. Your bed or min?
'Prat!' Hermione laughed and swatted his shoulder.
It had to be said at one point, Harry pointed out. Carefully, he sat up, pulling Hermione partly with him, and allowing her to get up as Harry stood. He offered a hand as she struggled to get out of the overly cushy couch, but she swatted it away.
'It was a nice thought,' she agreed as she managed to rise, 'but I can handle some things on my own, even if I have a boyfriend to help me.'
They walked together to the doors leading to the two staircases, and halted.
'Goodnight,' she breathed and stood on her toes to reach his mouth and give it a peck.
Harry was left to stare after her in a goofy daze as she darted up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
When Harry woke the following morning, he felt like his heart was made the nest of a family of phoenixes, and mother, father, and hatchlings were all trilling their merriest and loveliest melody.
It took him a second to remember why he felt this way, before he caught sight of Ron's glare from his bed. Hermione had agreed to be Harry's girlfriend. She had done so at the spur of the moment to get Ron off her back, but she had been sincere, and Harry could tell. She had offered him the easy way out, as she was insecure about herself, but he had accepted her as she was the day he met her, it just took him too long to realise it.
Suddenly, he couldn't get out of bed and into some clothes fast enough. He accidentally tore his shirts as he pulled them on, and his pants had a nice gash down them from his feet. He had to see her again. And he couldn't be too quick about it.
Harry dashed down the stairs and leapt the final flight, landing soundlessly at the bottom before entering the common room to find Hermione waiting anxiously, doing warm-up stretches, wearing her normal work-out clothing, shorts and top with running shoes and knee socks. It had never occurred to Harry before now just how enticing that view was. Correction, it had occurred, but he was too busy drowning out the response to appreciate the view.
Hermione noticed that Harry's appraisal of her looks took longer than it usually did, and was flattered. She finished her stretching and came over to deliver him a peck.
'Good morning,' she purred as Harry released her from the hug he pulled her into.
Harry purred and licked one of her cheeks a couple of times before she pushed him off.
'No time for that, we have training to do,' she teased.
Wherever you go, I will follow, Harry wrote while puffing his chest, then added, because the view is impeccable!
'Harry!' Hermione laughed, blushing at the compliment. 'You go first,' she commanded.
Harry reluctantly did so, but assured that she was not too far behind, as his tail had darted out and caught hold of her. The two jogged their way to the Room of Requirements, taking a longer route than they needed to so they had a raised heart beat and were awake and alert for their morning session.
Only the odd student from the DA had appeared during the holidays, so Harry and Hermione had the room to themselves as they ran around the track they had set as standard.
They had completed five circuits before Hermione announced that it was enough, and went in on the large field in the middle of the track to stretch and do other physical activities. Harry would have continued a few more circuits before calling it quits, but his newfound relationship with Hermione compelled him to remain as close to her as she allowed, for as long as possible.
Hermione helped Harry with his advanced conditioning, acting as support for his feet when he was doing sit ups, and sitting on his back as a weight when he did push ups. She didn't weigh much more than sixty kilograms, but Harry insisted that it would help him even with just a little more weight than his own to push. As she was lowered and raised, Hermione giggled and compared this to sitting on a seesaw as a child, only she didn't have to do anything to go up or down like one had to on a seesaw.
As Harry started lifting weights, Hermione brought out a book on warding, and started reading aloud so that he also could learn from it.
'Just imagine,' Hermione commented as Harry neared the end of his lifting, 'a year ago, I would have had to twist your arm just to get you to do your assignments on time, now you are studying material that is beyond Hogwarts by years on your own.'
Not that you are complaining … Harry commented and added to the large set of weights.
'Absolutely not!' Hermione stated indignantly. 'I love your change, but I love you more, and if you were never to pick up another book, I wouldn't try to change your mind.'
As I would not abandon you yesterday, Harry agreed. I would never let you remain miserable if I could help it.
Hermione smiled a sad but happy smile, and decided to do some stretches to get rid of some kinks.
Harry paused in mid lift to appreciate the view as her top lifted slightly. A fading red mark exposed itself to him, making him drop the weights instantly and rush over to her. Hermione protested wildly as she fell over and Harry lifted her top to see the mark again.
Who did this? he demanded of her.
'Dolohov,' she admitted and pulled her top up further to reveal that the red mark stretched further up, from the bottom of her right ribs to her left clavicle, nearly as thick as a finger. Harry felt very guilty and carefully traced the line that marred the woman he loved. He had indirectly caused it by leading her and the others to the Ministry of Magic that night. 'Don't you dare!'
Harry looked up into fiery eyes, thinking for a moment she was referring to his padded fingers.
'Don't you dare blame yourself for this, you couldn't have known, and you did everything you thought of to try and find out if Sirius was there or not,' she said passionately, 'Dolohov did this, and he will get his just dessert in due time. And if you ever blame yourself for that again, I'll hex you into the next week! This will be gone within a year from now.'
It is going to leave a permanent mark, Harry stated and traced the mark with a gentle hand.
'Yes it will,' Hermione agreed, a tear pooling in the corner of her eye, 'and if I could, I would show it to the world as a badge of honour, a mark that shows both how far I was willing to go for my friends, and how dangerous inattention can be. I will not be taken off my guard again if I can help it.'
Harry pulled his girlfriend close and licked her face clean of the rogue tear that traced down her cheek.
'Ew, cat spit!' Hermione giggled and started play wrestling with him like they had in the snowball fight on Christmas Morning.
The two of them rolled about for a while before calming down and relaxing on their backs for a moment to catch their breaths. After a moment, two silhouettes of the two appeared as solid shadows in front of them. This was the illusion system the Room of Requirements used for physical combat instructions.
Harry and Hermione got to their feet and assumed the ready stance. Their training was above the other students' levels for the sole reason that they dedicated most of their free time to this.
The "shadows" moved first, attacking the form corresponding with their own. Harry and Hermione fought furiously against the shadows. Had there been such a thing as synchronised combat, they would have won a medal, not necessarily gold, but a medal. As one, both raised an arm to block the overhead chop, and raised their knee to block the kick that the chop had been meant to distract from. The extended arm was grabbed and reversed before the shadows were flipped over their shoulders, and landed them on the ground, their arm stretching out behind them in an arm lock that was secured by the application of a foot on the shoulder. Just a twist and that shoulder would be out of its socket.
The two released their shadows, and stepped back.
The shadows suddenly held a silver knife each.
Things escalated like this for a while. After the knife, the shadows had another knife. Then a dagger, then a dagger and a knife, followed by dagger and dagger. So far both Harry and Hermione were unmarred, and had not stepped in to assist the other. The daggers vanished and were replaced by short swords. At this time they met problems, as the shadows started cooperating instead of working alone. Instead of cutting like read swords would, these weapons left glowing lines where they hit. By the time both shadows had been disarmed and disabled, Harry and Hermione had been forced to work together, and were both covered in lines in places that would not have been of any mortal danger.
The lines were counted on a score sheet that appeared in their hands, and according to this, they had come very far, attaining such a high level of their "real-scenario" training. If their learning curve continued as it had, the two would manage to dodge bullets shot at close range by the end of the school year.
Hermione had to begin with questioned why they did this every morning, but realised it after only a few weeks. Not all dangers were magical, and not everything could be handled with magic. If you were mugged on an open street, you couldn't use magic, as there were far too many Muggles present, and there was no way of getting every single one with an Obliviate curse, and then the wizarding world would be exposed to the Muggles, and a possible witch hunt might start again, or the Muggles would have wizards and witches solve all their problems, becoming too lazy to do things when magic could take care of it. The pure blooded wizards and witches didn't see much reason for this, but didn't question Harry's judgement, as the last person to do so, one of the extremely few Slytherins, had been cursed and evicted from the DA when questioning Harry's physical training regime even after having been told three times per day for a week.
The shadows got back up, and bowed to Harry and Hermione before stepping back and assuming a ready stance. This was the part of the training where they learned new moves. The style of this Martial Arts branch was a mix of every style, ranging from drunken boxing, brawling, and boxing to kung fu, karate and jeet kun do. Harry knew that there was no way for them to learn all styles, let alone remember which branch to use in combat, so he had the Room of Requirements mix them all up, sorting out any flaws that existed in each style, and cleaned it up after mixing, so that everything was fluid. Hermione had been awed at the complexities that the Room of Requirements was capable of performing when Harry first had succeeded in making it do this.
This style had yet to be named, and no unique ranking system had been made to tell their skills apart, so they simply called it fighting, and applied a notch on their belts for every time the Room of Requirements told them they had advanced a level. The more flamboyant of them chose to transfigure belts and make a metal pin in it for each level. There were approximately twelve levels, according to the room, but this had yet to be verified. Dean Thomas was working on a uniform design for their group, their ranking system in the fighting, and for announcement sheets, as he was the more artistic one of them.
By the time the next move had been incorporated into Harry and Hermione's mental library, it was starting to near breakfast time, and the shadows were dismissed.
'Last one to the Prefect's bathroom is a rotten egg!' Hermione giggled and took off, leaving Harry in the dust.
Unfair! he wrote, but it was useless as there were no one to read it.
He decided to just go with it, and followed her on much lighter and swifter feet.
Hermione had already gotten a ten second head start, and was a long way ahead of Harry by the time he got her within sights again. He caught up with her as he got to the painting he was not supposed to know about unless he was a Prefect. Harry remembered how he had snuck in here under his invisibility cloak during his fourth year. How silly he felt, going out in the middle of the night to take a bath with his gold egg.
'I win!' Hermione cheered.
You cheated, Harry wrote, huffing in protest. Besides, I'm already considered a rotten egg.
'You? A rotten egg?' asked Hermione in mock surprise.
Oh yeah, Harry replied, trying to make his face look smug. I'm said to be the next Dark Lord … could be fun, except for that whole killing people thing … I mean, to have the people quiver in fear at the very thought of your name, to spread deadly fear by appearing, and befuddling their minds by doing a kind gesture to one of the terrified persons … of course, the downside would be that everyone would be trying to kill me … OK, let's abandon that idea …
'Of course,' agreed Hermione. 'Because if you had developed that idea, you'd have ended up as Lord Azkaban, or something like that. Let's instead get cleaned up, I'll go in first and transfigure something to wear in the giant bathtub they have in there, and you do the same outside, I'll knock on the door when I'm ready.'
Harry reluctantly let the door separate them, and checked the hallway for anyone before removing most of his clothes, and transfiguring his boxers into Bermuda shorts. Because of Harry's fur, he didn't feel much of he chill that ran through the castle this time of year, but was still glad when he heard the knock.
Be sure to always check if Moaning Myrtle is in, Harry cautioned. She has this perverted habit of watching through the taps.
Days passed, and the student body and the faculty seemed to grow accustomed to seeing Harry and Hermione sitting closer together, and give each other the odd quick peck. This all changed when the rest of the school came back from their Christmas holidays. The day following the return, the Daily Prophet featured a large front page photograph of the two as they were studying in what had become their normal position, one lounging against the other and the back delivering the odd kiss on the other, and the headlines proclaimed how correct their prediction had been two years ago.
Over the days following this article, both Harry and Hermione were peppered with owls of every kind. There were actually several witches out there, whom he had never seen or met, who had been under the delusion that he loved them and that he was cheating on them with Hermione. Some of those witches claimed that Hermione was a gold digger, and only loved his fame, whilst they loved him for him.
Classes started again, and Harry was very happy to learn that they would be starting Apparation in Charms. This would take place over a few weeks. First theory, then practice in Hogsmeade with several Aurors and ministry employees to supervise the training, and to judge whether the students were good enough to get the license for Apparation. The reason Harry was happy about this, was that he would be able to visit Hermione or vice versa all summer without breaking the blood protection. He was doubly happy because as of this exam, he was allowed to perform magic out of school, as this was the last summer vacation he had from Hogwarts, and all seventh year students were trusted to use magic in moderation and responsibly.
Both Harry and Hermione had by now memorised a good chunk out of the Hogwarts Library … they were nowhere near finished with it, but a good chunk, considering they had not used more than half a year.
Ron was still acting frigid against the two, not spending a moment longer in their presence than he needed.
'Pay attention, Mr Weasley! This is very important and could be all that stands between yourself and a splinching!' the normally cheerful professor Flitwick reprimanded. Ron returned his attention to the diminutive wizard, abandoning his glaring at Harry's back. 'As I was saying,' Flitwick continued, 'the gist of Apparation is simply to imagine yourself somewhere you've been before, and will yourself there. However, it is not as easy as it seems. If you miscalculate the energy you put into it, you could end up with too little, thereby splinching yourself, or too much, causing parts of you to blow up.
'There is a limit for how much luggage one can bring when Apparating, which is why wizards and witches prefer to use the Knight Bus for those trips when they have too much to bring with them. There is a possibility of bringing a passenger, but only if that passenger is fully able to Apparate themselves, and does it exactly the same time as the one that knows the location. This is why it is not recommended for pregnant witches, or witches and wizards with children, to Apparate, as they end up leaving them behind.
'Wards are a different problem altogether, if someone tries to Disapparate from within a warded area, nothing will happen at all, they will simply receive a magical backlash from the power they put into it, and it will feel the equivalent of being hit with one of the milder pain curses. If someone tries to Apparate into a warded area, the same will happen, but if the ward is a particularly nasty one, it could add other hexes, jinxes or curses to the backlash.
'Contrary to belief, a wand is not needed to manage the Apparation or Disapparation, but it makes it easier to focus the magic.'
Harry and Hermione made very detailed notes, filling in anything else they had read in books, or simplifying things with different examples.
'Now,' professor Flitwick went on, 'that is all we have time for today, next time, we shall have a look at the arithmetic calculations needed for Apparation and Disapparation, and work out a schedule of who goes when to Hogsmeade for the practical part of this subject. Those that manage it easily enough will have to fill out the paperwork with the Ministry employees that will be there, and they will hand you your license. Those that are unable to do it, can, if they wish, report to the Ministry of Magic to try again over the summer.'
Ron was one of the first to depart the Charms classroom, fuming and sulking at the same time.
'Honestly,' Hermione huffed, 'how can he stand to be so immature?'
I'll answer if you can tell me how, why and when I became betrothed to Ms Inga Pinwater, Ms Gertrude Swill and Ms Delia Thunder … Harry offered.
'I think not,' Hermione cringed.
The winter passed much too rapidly. This Valentines Day there was no Hogsmeade visit, but Harry managed to have a private and romantic dinner with Hermione in the Room of Requirements. While they were preparing for the final battle in all classes and free time, Voldemort was slowly getting more active, sending small squadrons of Death Eaters on raids. Hermione, who charted these raids, pointed out that if all the dots on the map were connected, they would form a gaping skull with a snake slithering out. So far no magical areas like Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley had been attacked, although rumours had gone out about Voldemort sending out for alliances from dark creatures and goblins. Nothing of the sort had been verified, but Harry suspected it to be true, as Voldemort's following had taken a severe blow at his first fall, and then again last year at the Ministry of Magic. And recruitment would be very low considering that unlike last rising, Voldemort now had both Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore against him, and Harry had proven time and again to thrive in adversity which would explain why not many would side against him.
After much anticipation, spring arrived, brushing away the snow and blanketing the landscape in green. A winter depression that none of the students were aware of having been infected with lifted, and everyone were merrier.
The Apparation lessons were now starting to be practical lessons in Hogsmeade, and those students were all followed by at least three adults per head for security. Harry wasn't worried, he had discovered something during his potions lessons; he could sense those bearing the Dark Mark. Only three students bore them in all the school, but they had obviously only just been initiated and had yet to see real action, so there was time to have them change their ways. Malfoy would not change, so Harry gave up on him immediately.
The most exciting thing that happened as spring arrived, was that Harry came over an interesting reference to Wizarding debts.
A Wizarding Debt is when one wizard or witch is indebted to another. This can come about from a promise, or from things such as saving a wizard's or witch's life while both parties are well aware of it. The debt can be collected in anything the recipient of the debt desires, as long as it does not directly cost the life saved. Once the debt has been demanded, the wizard or witch that owes the debt can not do anything but what is demanded, they will be compelled to do it at nearly any cost.
This was the reason why Harry was seen writing a quick message and sending it off with a school owl. The predatory grin Harry sported as he watched the owl shrink in the horizon made many of those that saw it shrink back in fear of being his next meal.
Professor McGonagall gave up on teaching Harry anything more about being an Animagus, as she had taught him everything she knew, and even learned a few things, but there was no progress in Harry's transformation. Not a single hair would change on him. Instead, she filled out his paperwork for him and sent it in to the Ministry so Harry could be registered. Although he had not fully transformed, he was clearly a panther, so there was no need to lie on the form.
During breakfast the following morning, Hermione got a letter from her parents. She read it over a couple of times before wordlessly handing it over to him.
Dear Hermione
We both apologise for the time it took for us to form a response to your letter. It came as quite a shock to hear that you had gotten a boyfriend, although when we read whom it was it made sense. Hardly a letter or summer has gone by without his name being mentioned in every sentence.
Please keep in mind; that we will want to meet Harry when we come to pick you up.
We would appreciate more letters before summer, and please keep your hormones intact, and don't do something that you'll regret later in life.
Love;
Mum & Dad
Harry cringed.
This was what could make or break any relationship. The first personal meeting with the parents. He had of course seen them once before, but they had been on the other end of Flourish and Blotts at the time, locked in conversation with Mr Weasley. He hoped he wouldn't make a bad impression.
Harry paused in his reflections and pondered why he was more nervous about meeting the parents of the woman he loved more than life itself than he was about meeting his possible doom at the hands of Voldemort.
'Are you OK, Harry?' asked Hermione cautiously.
Harry nodded slowly before handing the letter back to her.
Come on, we have Apparation lessons, prompted Harry and stood, tail firmly gripping Hermione's wrist.
Hermione had just enough time to stuff the letter away and grab her bag before the tail started tugging at her arm.
There was of course a reason why the Apparation lessons were so popular among the sixth years, and this was because after the lessons were done, the students were allowed an hour alone in Hogsmeade.
In the Entrance Hall, several other sixth years were waiting, and lining the walls were the adults, grim determination on their faces.
Harry snorted at the faces that looked ready to go to their deaths; he knew that Voldemort was not going to attack him yet. The snake-faced old bastard hadn't fully regained his strength from the attempted possession, and he was the sort of proud man that was prepared to allow his enemy to suffer in fear for two years during which he expected Harry to scurry about in terror and be the obedient little boy that only learned what the school taught.
Hermione had to pretend to be patting Harry's back and mouth to the adults that he was having hairball problems, or the adults would surely refuse to have them with them to Hogsmeade. One did not feel obligated to protect someone that mocked one.
The doors of the castle had hardly opened before a haggard man fell in, visibly straining against his own movements as he entered. Harry recognised the man by the silver hand and rat-like face; Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail. The man looked up to see Harry's predatory smirk, and tried to scamper away, but his body refused to respond to his pleas and commands, and instead crawled through the Entrance Hall, unobstructed because everyone were surprised, and into the Great Hall, where the teachers were starting to leave the head table.
When he had fully entered the room, the haggard form of Wormtail stood slowly, and in a sobbing voice made his declaration.
'I, Peter Pettigrew, hereby come to pay the Wizarding Debt owed to Harry James Potter; by turning myself over to headmaster Albus Dumbledore, to be tried for all my crimes and clear the name of Sirius Orion Black.'
When the words were uttered, he spread his arms wide, exposing his form more easily, and waited.
Harry watched with a certain amount of pleasure as Dumbledore raised his wand and stunned the formerly fat man into unconsciousness. He also watched as for added security, Wormtail was placed in a Body-bind, and tied up with conjured rope and manacles. The manacles were compliments of Mr Filch, who had kept them well oiled for years in anticipation of use. To add insult to injury, Wormtail was also locked up with his thumbs in iron, in a glass bubble, in an escape proof room. After Sirius' escape in Harry's third year, Dumbledore had always made certain that they had one room to keep prisoners of war so they could not escape. Under the bubble was a tank of water with a few Grindylow floating about, should Wormtail come to, and escape from the bindings, ropes and bubble.
Needless to say that Apparation lessons were cancelled for that day.
As time has it, it passes quickly when one wishes it didn't. Thanks to Dumbledore, Wormtail was put before the Wizengamot and tried for treason and for being a Death Eater. He had received the Dementor's Kiss, and Sirius was cleared of all charges, much too late in Harry's opinion. Fudge was not happy about having been proved wrong about Sirius, and was still bitter about Harry and Dumbledore being right when Voldemort was concerned.
The exams were closing in, and all fifth and seventh years were in a fit, trying to recall everything they had learned in their time at Hogwarts.
The sixth years, or at least most of them, had gotten their Apparation license, and were simply studying for the exams. Neither Harry nor Hermione needed to, as they had memorised this year's curriculum within the first month of the year, and therefore had more time to train and spend time together. Since there were so many seventh and fifth years in the DA, the meetings slowed down to only take place in the morning, and those that wanted could show up before dinner. Harry thought this was more than reasonable, despite the grumblings of those stubborn students that had been trailing behind in classes and needed all the time they could get to prepare for the exams.
As he was too stubborn to ask Hermione or Harry for help, Ron took to shaking his other room mates for answers to his questions.
Ginny no longer had time to play pranks because of her OWLs. Since she was the youngest Weasley, it was up to her to make her parents prouder of her than they had been of their other offspring. Not that she declared this as her reason, but it was an underlying motive.
Harry found the exams unexpectedly easy, and he heard similar remarks from some of his students. Hermione was very proud of Harry's achievements, and demonstrated it by giving him a very sloppy kiss in front of the DA their fist meeting after the exams.
Gryffindor lost the Quidditch Cup to Ravenclaw this year, and Ron was very sensitive about it, so no one dared mention it around him, for fear that he'd curse them. Harry ignored the muttered comments about how Gryffindor would have won if Harry's DA schedule hadn't been so tiring, because the other houses had representatives in the DA while being members of their house teams, and had no such problems on the pitch.
Despite the end of the Quidditch season, the pitch was being kept in order. This was because of the coming competition between the Defence Association and the Duelling Club.
As the date neared, Malfoy became exceedingly cockier, and his "subordinates" took every chance they could to brag about their skills in fighting. Harry had forbidden his students from gloating like that, as it was a sure way to egg on someone that might be more powerful or cunning, thereby end up in one terrible way or another. Those that did try to brag found themselves receiving a mild electric shock, as they had their names written up on a list Harry had cursed himself. It was a secrecy controlled curse, meaning all those on it, which Harry and Hermione were not, that tried to spill any secrets Harry had told them not to, they would receive punishment. If the members tried to defy the secrecy even after three warnings in a row, they would be stunned immediately and expelled from the group, with a memory charm placed upon them to remove all knowledge of the DA activities.
The day before everyone were to leave for home, the two groups were called to the Quidditch pitch.
Once there, Dumbledore met the two groups and started to sort out whom were to compete.
The Duelling Club was given the privilege of choosing the form of combat, be it one-on-one, or all twelve as a group against the other group. Malfoy must have figured that safety was in numbers and that it would be over sooner if he had his members with him.
Harry was secretly pleased when Hermione's name was not drawn from the hat where the names had been placed, but he was also conflicting in feeling disappointed, as she was one of the top five of his group, and her talents would have been a great help. He settled for feeling happy that she would not be exposed to any nasty surprises that Malfoy might have up his sleeve, and consoling her with a hug for her not being picked. He was also slightly pleased that Ron was not picked either, as he didn't want to risk having friendly fire to look out for. Ginny was picked, and Harry had no arguments against it, as he would have been hexed into oblivion if he did.
Both groups were asked to dress in their uniforms.
The Duelling Club trooped onto the pitch wearing royal blue robes with silver lining, and black gloves made from dragon hide. The captain, Malfoy, also had a silver sash running diagonally from shoulder to hip.
The Defence Association wore what they had named Chameleon suits. They would take on the most common colour around it like a chameleon. Each of the twelve in the DA wore black belts, with a varying number of stars on them, twelve being the highest current number. Harry had on this number of stars on his belt, and wore a folded chameleon bandana on his head, with a golden triangle on the centre to signify his position.
What neither team had expected to find when they trooped onto the pitch, was that it had been transformed into a jungle with a path drawn up from the two entrances onto the pitch, meeting in a circular clearing in the middle.
'Welcome, all, to the promised competition between the Defence Association and the Duelling Club,' boomed Dumbledore's voice over the pitch, followed by the applause and cheering of the crowd. 'Very good!' the man chuckled. 'In Blue and silver, we have the Duelling Club, team captain Draco Malfoy.' A portion of the school applauded enthusiastically while a scattering merely applauded politely. 'And in what they have named Chameleon Suits, we have the Defence Association, team captain Harry Potter.'
This time a larger part of the school applauded.
'You might as well surrender now, Potter, and save yourself the humiliation of being put in a worse condition that you already are,' crowed Malfoy across the jungle. 'In your state, you won't be able to yell commands, like a captain is supposed to do, let along concentrate enough to cast a noticeable spell when we are raining down on you!'
Harry growled, comparing the blonde boy with a fly, very annoying and nearly impossible to swat … at least during most conditions.
'The jungle that has been erected,' continued Dumbledore, ignoring the goings on of the pitch, 'is the product of many hours study on the part of professors Flitwick and McGonagall.' At this the two professors blushed at the attention. 'They based their work on the excellent charms work performed by Messrs Fred and George Weasley, so there is nothing to worry about, the pitch will return to normal mere moments after this competition had finished. In respect to the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, the two professors has given the designs to them, in trade for a small royalty that will support them in their elder days. For those interested, a whole range of portable landscapes has been launched at the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Alley.'
Confused murmurs were heard even down on the pitch.
'Now that I've advertised the co-products worked out between our professors and Messrs Weasley, it is time to start, anytime you are ready, captains.'
Harry let out a roar that could be heard clear through Hogsmeade, and causing the villagers of the magical village to stop in their daily dealings and look to Hogwarts where the roar originated from. Several magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest stopped in their doings and looked in that direction as well. Many were frightened of the sound, as it was that of a very dangerous predator signalling dominance over others, and there were few that dared to challenge this sound.
The roar was the agreed upon signal for the DA to spread out as much as possible and hide from sight, making them difficult to hit at best.
Harry's orders were obeyed without questions and not two seconds after the roar had sounded, the Duelling Club was unable to see a single member of the Defence Association. The rustling of leaves stopped five seconds after that, but it was very clear that the DA was still out there, moving into positions that would give them the strategic edge.
The Duelling Club had not trained for guerrilla warfare, but rather regular duelling, one-on-one, and quickly bunched together in one tight group. They made their way to the clearing, so they could have a better view, and on the way, not a sound was heard from the DA. This owed to Harry's very strict and rigorous training in agility, strategy and a daily exposure to surprises.
Once the Duelling Club had reached the clearing, they stopped and carefully scrutinised the area. Everything was silent, even the crowds watching were silent as they watched with baited breaths.
A whisper in the wind was barely heard before one of the twelve blue was hit with a tickling curse.
The Duelling Club members started shooting every curse and hex they knew in the direction it came from, but a stunner zipped in from the opposite direction. The direction of the firing changed, only to experience being hit from different directions every time. This was part of Harry's instructions as well. Keep the enemy confused about where to shoot, and slowly wear down their strength and defences. The energy spent on reviving the stunned member, or lifting the tickling curse could have been spent on other things. The haphazardly shooting of spells was something the DA members had been drilled not to do from the beginning of the year, they were only to shoot when they had a clear shot, to preserve magical strength. The Duelling Club had had no such instructions, and shot every time a leaf fell or a shadow was seen.
Malfoy caught on to the game they were being played, and demanded his members to halt until they saw something real.
This was the signal for the DA to fire a volley all at once before restoring the rapid and random fire.
This sudden change caused the order given by Malfoy to be forgotten as the Duelling Club members struggled to defend themselves and revive their fallen comrades.
Harry was forced to duck a few times to avoid the randomly aimed spells and curses. He never had to duck far, however, and made sure to keep in one piece, or Hermione would be wearing his tackle for jewellery.
Slowly, the members were unable to keep up the steadily increasing pace the DA were keeping, and victory was assured. Harry finished the competition by leaping out from a shadow and incapacitating Malfoy, the last standing member of the Duelling Club, with a Body-bind.
As Harry came into the clearing with his own group, a horn sounded, declaring the end of the event. Harry joined the horn with a mighty and victorious roar, which was cut short as a pair of arms wrapped around his neck, and his vision was blurred by brown locks of hair. Hermione could obviously not wait for him to come off the pitch before attacking him with her embraces.
Madam Pomfrey came out on the pitch, and was not in the greatest of moods as she fixed the injured students, muttering about mad old codgers sending her students out to fight each other. Harry was on the receiving end of a glare, but managed to escape because Hermione was hungry and the End of Year Feast was about to be served. Harry was just glad he hadn't gotten himself injured in any way during the fight, or he'd really be neck-deep in trouble with madam Pomfrey. So far this year, he felt he had done a good job of not ending up in the Hospital Wing, barring the whole botched Animagus transformation incident which he was still stuck in.
The river of students flowed uphill to the castle and into the Great Hall. Harry and Hermione hopped in, and went with the stream.
'May I have your attention, please,' spoke Dumbledore serenely from his seat. How he managed to arrive first despite his very old age was beyond Harry. 'Yes, that was a very good display of skill by both groups, and judging by the popularity, I believe we shall see more of this competition between them. I believe there are the points to be read up, and decorations to be displayed. In last place for the House Cup, we have oddly enough, Ravenclaw with three-hundred and fifty-seven points.'
Harry and Hermione smirked evilly as they heard this. The two of them had been hogging their professor's attention in class, not leaving the Ravenclaw students in their year a single opportunity to answer. Harry was certain that some of the Ravenclaws would blame Harry for his demanding schedule, but didn't care anything about it.
'In third place, we have Hufflepuff, with three-hundred and seventy points,' continued Dumbledore.
It was clear that the Hufflepuffs were happy about not being placed last.
'Second place goes to Gryffindor,' a loud groan went out from the Gryffindor table, 'with four-hundred and sixty-nine points.'
For a moment, Harry wondered what caused them to lose first place in the House Cup.
'And lastly, Slytherin in first place with four-hundred and seventy points,' finished Dumbledore. 'And by that, we will arrange the decorations.'
The headmaster clapped his hands, and the Slytherin banner suddenly decorated the Great Hall. The Slytherins cheered, and gloated openly.
'However, we must add something to the decorations,' added Dumbledore with a smile. He once more clapped his hands, and the banner of the Defence Association suddenly appeared behind the headmaster. It was bright gold with red lettering. A wand and a sword crossed over a shield, and a winged pair of boots were parked at the bottom of the shield. A pitch black panther prowled along the banner, occasionally stopping to peer out or roar. As Dumbledore raised his hands to summon the food to the tables, the panther lay down behind the shield, watching the hall with its glowing green eyes. Dean had really outdone himself on this.
'The Quidditch Cup must have made the deciding points for Slytherin,' Hermione concluded.
Harry nodded solemnly and dug into his food.
'At least we had some representation in the decorations …' she sighed and slapped Harry's elbows off the table before picking up her cutlery. Harry growled out of habit, but obeyed her instructions without much complaint. She had been subtly improving his manners over the time they had been a couple, not that there was much to correct, but Harry had a tendency to forget small things like not placing his elbows on the table. Things like speaking with his mouth full or chewing with his mouth closed were not issues he could do anything about until he had managed to return to human form.
The rest of the meal was peaceful, if one ignored the complaints of woe from the Ravenclaws about being placed last in the House Cup, and the victorious taunting of the Slytherins who had won both the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup, plucking the victory right from under the Gryffindors' noses.
Eventually, Dumbledore dismissed them all to bed, and wished them a fair journey back to their homes, and a safe summer.
The following morning, there was the usual bustle about packing and cleaning. Harry and Hermione met in the common room after dressing for the day, forgoing the usual morning training because of the time they would be leaving. It would be before eleven, and there was no sense in unpacking more clothes than necessary by training and changing again.
Most students slept in because of the late night yesterday, with all its excitement, and came scurrying into the Great Hall for a bite of toast and a sip of pumpkin juice half an hour before the Hogwarts Express was to leave Hogsmeade station.
Ron was even later, and had to run to catch up with the last carriage to the station, leaving his luggage to be handled by the house-elves in the Entrance Hall like everyone else were supposed to.
Once more, Harry managed to hijack a compartment, but Hermione was but a tail's length away, followed by Ginny, Luna and Neville. Harry and Hermione had just gotten comfortable in each other's arms when Ron appeared at their door. He looked like he was about to say something, but sighed and did not. Luna stood and dragged the redheaded boy inside before placing him directly in front of Harry and Hermione.
'Come on, Ronald, like you practiced …' encouraged Luna in her airy tone.
Ron blushed brightly at the hidden command and studied his toes, which were trying to gouge a hole in the floor through his shoes.
'I'm sorry I've been such an arse these past months,' he muttered quickly before sitting down and unfolding an issue of the Quibbler in front of his face.
Harry was too engrossed in enjoying Hermione's close presence to care if the apology was stated hurriedly, and merely started purring as he nuzzled her neck, tickling her with his fur and whiskers. Hermione, between giggles, accepted the apology and settled for a nice and cosy read as she reclined over Harry's body. No words were spoken for a while, and the warm sunlight that filtered through the window caused Harry to stretch even more and purr even louder.
Malfoy had apparently decided not to grace them with his presence, for which they were immensely glad.
Harry simply marvelled in how comforting and lasting a hug could be, barely able to concentrate on the written words of the book Hermione was holding in front of them.
The trip was made in silence, everyone simply enjoying the silence that was only interrupted by the thuds of the wheels of the train hitting a new rail every few seconds. Not even the hoot of an owl could be heard, for the simple reason that since Harry's transformation, hardly any owl dared come near him for more than a second, and to save them the terrified hoots of Pigwidgeon, Harry and Ron had, without being aware of the other, sent their owls ahead of them the night before. Crookshanks was out of his carrier, and was curled up in Hermione's lap, knowing full well whom the alpha-male was in the compartment, and not confident enough to attempt taking over that position. Crookshanks may be a cat, but not a fool.
After hours of waiting, the train slowed to a stop at platform nine and three-quarters on King's Cross.
Their trunks, which had appeared just before they closed the door of their compartment, were lugged from the overhead rack, and onto trolleys on the outside of the train. Crookshanks willingly entered his carrier when Harry glared at him, making Hermione's job much easier. Harry drew on the heavy cloak he had put on that morning, obscuring most of his features, except his large frame.
A few Ministry Aurors stood on the platform and oversaw the students as they walked through the barrier, making sure they wouldn't be noticed by the Muggles.
Harry and Hermione came through together, and were nearly attacked by Mrs Weasley as she saw them before they saw her.
Ron and Ginny soon followed out the barrier, and were also attacked by Mrs Weasley.
While Mrs Weasley was occupied, the other members of the Order came up to them, and greeted them. Tonks appeared with neon green hair that day, and seemed infinitely amused at Harry's new appearance. After a moment, Moody pointed out Harry's uncle, Vernon, in the far end of the station. It was probably sheer coincidence that he happened to stand nearly right next to the doctors Granger.
Harry led the way for Hermione, followed by Lupin, Tonks, Dung and Moody, cutting a path through the crows of commuting Muggles.
Uncle Vernon was visibly shaken at seeing such a large hulking form making its way though the throng of people, directly at him. It didn't help that the form was not discernable as any man or woman he had seen, and followed by those freaks that had threatened him the year before.
Uncle Vernon, wrote Harry, making sure he saw the sign.
A glimmer of light made the face under the hood visible to the fat fool, and he would have screamed if Harry hadn't discreetly pointed his wand at him and placed him under a silencing spell. After three seconds of screaming without making a sound, uncle Vernon's fear of looking strange took over, and he shut up. By now, Hermione had gotten her parents' attention and waved them over to save on time and effort.
You were informed of my condition, despite its phrasing, it was not a question but a statement, meant not only for uncle Vernon, but the Grangers as well. All three Muggles nodded. Good, that saves me some attention from passers by, waving a sign instead of using sign language has a noticeable effect.
'So,' started Hermione's mother, 'you are the young man whom has captured our daughter's heart.' Harry felt himself being scrutinised for a few moments. 'How much of the change is present in your appearance?' she finally asked. 'Is all by the feline features your personal body, or is there more to the change?'
'We aren't certain, mother,' stated Hermione, 'When he arrived at headquarters, he was nearly a head shorter than me, after the change, he gained about a foot in height, and he's grown even more since then.'
'But that could just be a part of the change, you mean?' chipped in Hermione's father. For a brief moment, Harry saw where Hermione's intellect came from … both of them. 'Fascinating, how much of a change would you think there would be when he changes back to normal?'
You mean; if I ever do …
'My good man, everything that goes up, must come down,' laughed the good doctor, 'you will return to your normal state eventually, you just need to find out what will trigger it.'
Harry nodded, mulling this new angle over in his mind.
'Well, best not stay too long, Potter,' growled Moody, looking out at the crowd from under his bowler hat, 'all the colours your uncle's face has gone through is bound to draw some attention.'
Harry looked down at his uncle, and saw that his face was currently changing from purple to pale white and back to red. Most likely from suppressing a very wide range of emotions, and from restraining his normal commanding attitude towards Harry when it came to his weirdness and other people finding out about it.
Where are my manners, Harry wrote, managing to sound repentant at having forgotten. I am indeed Harry Potter, current – and permanently if I have a say in it – mate of your daughter. This is my uncle Vernon Dursley. Harry saw his uncle get angry about being introduced so casually through signs. Uncle Vernon, these are the parents of my mate – er – girlfriend, Dr Granger and his wife Dr Granger, they are dentists.
This last bit caused uncle Vernon's face to return to its normal colour, and suddenly become the epitome of kindness. Harry realised that as an executive of Grunnings, a drill company, he saw the opportunity for a sale if he played his cards right, and right now; the kind and caring uncle bit seemed as the right thing to act.
Harry tuned out his uncle's attempts at pleasantry and turned his attention to Hermione instead.
'Promise you'll write?' she asked in a teary voice, as though she just realised they would be apart for a while.
I may even do you one better and come in person, Harry answered and drew her face in under his hood for a kiss. Hermione threw her arms around him and dried her tears on Harry's shirt after the kiss.
'I miss you already,' she whispered.
Harry watched as Hermione and her parents made their way through the station, feeling nearly empty without Hermione near him, and judging from the teary looks she sent him every few feet, she felt the same. Tonks and Dung were her escort, he idly noticed as the five rounded a corner.
Before uncle Vernon could turn on Harry, Moody stepped into the man's view, and growled.
'The warning from last year still stands, Dursley,' Harry heard. 'But this year, Potter is allowed to do magic out of school, so mind you don't make him cross, or he'll exact revenge himself. I hear your son got a pig's tail a few years back, let me tell you, Potter is one of the most brilliant students of his year, and the fellow that did that deed to your son never came half as far in his education as Potter has so far, which means anything he does will – be – infinitely – worse.'
With those words of farewell, Moody and Lupin turned and left, most likely to turn invisible and follow at a slight distance.
'Well, boy,' growled uncle Vernon, 'get a move on, we can't obstruct the paths of normal people all day.'
Harry surprised his uncle by reaching out with great furry hands, that could pass for gloves unless one looked carefully, and picked up his visibly heavy trunk with ease before heaving it onto one shoulder, stuffing Hedwig's cage under the other arm, standing ready to leave.
Harry gave a snort to indicate that his uncle should take his own advice before starting to walk out the doors, headed for the new company car his uncle had gotten, as the previous one had gone out of style last week.
'Listen carefully, boy,' uncle Vernon warned in a threatening manner, despite the words of advice Moody had impressed upon him, 'your aunt Marge is staying with us for a while, as she has fallen on bad luck. We will not tolerate too much freakishness around her.'
Harry nodded to keep from making an incident, and listened with half a ear to his uncle muttering about irresponsible children antagonising Marge's dogs, about doctor bills and law suits, and about stupid breeding laws for dogs and senile old coots that can't keep a few measly dogs in line. All the while, his smile grew wider in restrained mirth at the ironies of life. All his life, aunt Marge had complained about Harry lazing about the house and being ungrateful for what he got. Now, she was bankrupt and living off her brother … all because of one dog that got away from her home and bit a child. Oh, Harry would be able to amuse himself with that image for weeks, and maybe rub her nose in it too.