Warnings: none

Chapter 16 - More and More

"So, the mighty git Percy told me that the doctor wants me to come in one time with you," Ron said. "Any idea why?"

They were on the Potters' front porch, lounging in the swing as Ron pushed it with one foot, talking about Harry's latest session with Riddle. Lily had brought them lemonade and little snack cakes, reminding Harry of hot afternoons spent playing in the front yard with Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the other Weasley boys, then left them to their own. Harry leaned his head down onto Ron's shoulder. For at least a few moments, he would escape the crazy mess his life was becoming. He smiled as Ron wrapped his arms around him.

"Just said he wanted to talk to you. I guess he wants to see how you help me with these dreams."

"Yeah, help." Ron kissed the top of Harry's head. "If I'm such a great help, then why have you been having them more and more lately? And you're starting to see that... Lord Voldemort person again, aren't you?"

Harry stopped smiling. Yes, he had seen Lord Voldemort again. But he didn't want to talk about that, not when he could forget it all in Ron's arms. "Yeah." Maybe Ron would just drop the subject.

"Have you told the doctor about it?" Nope, he wouldn't be that lucky.

"Let's talk about something else..."

"That's what you're seeing him for, Harry. That's why your parents are sending you."

"Ron, please..."

"Harry... do they have medication for that...? What you're going through, I mean?"

He sat up and turned to Ron. For a moment, he said nothing. He just looked into Ron's eyes, hard and determined and trying his best to make Ron back down. But Ron wasn't backing down. He returned Harry's gaze, just as hard and determined. He wouldn't back down, not where Harry was concerned. "Are you saying I need medication, Ron? Are you saying I'm that crazy?"

"Look, mate. I'm not saying you're crazy. And I'm not saying that you need medication..."

"Yet," Harry interjected.

Ron kept talking. He didn't deny Harry's statement, which pricked at his temper. "I'm just saying that if things get really bad, I don't want to see you suffer, okay? I want everything done to help you, so you don't get upset or something, you know? I don't want to see you like that, Harry... I don't want you to suffer."

Harry glared at him. "I don't need medicine, Ron. I'm not that crazy. And what if they want to throw me in the loony bin? Huh? Are you going to just lead the bandwagon for that one too? You really think I am nuts, don't you?"

"Harry, just shut up," Ron said, giving him that determined look again. "You know good and well that's not what I'm trying to say. Stop being difficult."

"I'm not being difficult," Harry said. His voice was beginning to rise. "And don't tell me to shut up. You have no idea what it's like for me, Ron, to be seeing things that other people don't and having these whack-o dreams and passing out all over the place! ... I think I really am going nuts, Ron..."

He wasn't mad anymore. The all-too-familiar panicked feeling had began welling up in Harry. Soon, he was pulled tight against Ron's chest, and Ron was stroking his back and whispering comforts into his hair. It took longer than usual for Ron to calm him down, and he was left with a slight annoyed feeling that was all for Ron. He had been feeling that more and more lately.

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Harry stood outside the Granger house, waiting impaitently for Hermione to answer the door. He knew she was home; not only was her car in the drive, but he could hear her stereo on upstairs and her moving around inside. Her parents were out of town for some sort of seminar, or whatever it was that Ron had said. Harry and Hermione had not spoken since the incident four dacys ago at the coffee house. She hadn't called him afterall. He felt like she was the one who should be apologizing, and she hadn't, so Harry wasn't privvy to Hermione's life, except for the tidbits Ron gave him. Not like he really cared, though. If she wanted to be like that, then fine. He would just get his notebook she had taken and be about his way until she was ready to apologize to him. Honestly, how long did it take to answer the door?

Finally, it opened and Hermione appeared. Her normally bushy hair stuck out all hither-tither, her shirt was sloppily buttoned, and she was flushed and panting, flooded with the smell of vanilla, sweat, and something Harry couldn't quite place but made his stomach a little queasy. She frowned when she saw it was Harry standing on her doorstep. He returned the frown. It wasn't exactly like he wanted to be there with this disshelved girl.

"Harry, I..."

He cut her off before she could start in on him. "I just came for my notebook. I've got to get to work."

She sighed again and looked at him, clearly debating whether or not to say something more to Harry. Deciding against it, she sighed again. Harry felt satisfied that his most disconcerning look seemed to have put off Miss Granger.

"Wait here," she instructed. The door was closed again, leaving Harry to wait out in the hot sun.

It seemed like forever Hermione was gone, Harry heard the stereo turn off, and he could hear the sounds of voices and someone moving around upstairs through Hermione's cracked bedroom window. He tapped his foot impaitently. Hermione said a few more words to whoever was in her room and then came running back down the stairs. She opened the door a moment later, now clutching the black notebook.

"Harry, these dreams..." She was looking a little upset now. "Have you told your doctor about them?"

"I don't have time to sit around and discuss my hallucinations with you, Hermione. I'm going to be late for work. My notebook, please?"

She gave him one of her more stern looks, one that was usually resevered for Ron when he fell asleep in class during an important lecture, and still held tight to the notebook. "Harry, please. Have you talked to Riddle about them?"

"No, Herimone, all right!" He was shocked when she sighed in relief. "Why?"

"Something seems off about him, Harry... I don't know what it is, call it feminine intuition, but I don't trust him, no matter how qualified he may be" She handed him the notebook. "I realize I don't have the proper knowledge to help you with this, Harry, but I made copies of those notes and I've been puzzling over them every day since you handed me that notebook. There's just something about it... I don't know, but I intend to find out. As absurd as it sounds -- and yes, it sounds very absurd, but it's the only answer I've been able to come up with -- I think Riddle may have something to do with all of this. Stop smiling like that, Harry, because I'm not saying this isn't all something you invented to get out of session."

He glared at her again. Just when she had began to redeem herself, and Harry had been so sure that an apology was on the tip of her tongue, she turned back to her previous stand. Once again, he was making things up. "Great. Thanks for having such faith in me, Hermione, really."

"Harry, stop that right now." She stomped her foot. "I'm going to look into it and --"

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

Harry turned his back on her and started walking off. He had to get to work, which was only slightly better than listening to Hermione tell him he was making this whole thing up. He knew he wasn't. He knew that it was all real... and not just in his mind. He was sure of that.

So, he ignored her when she yelled after him to come back. He turned a deaf ear to her. Let her stand there on her front porch, looking and smelling like sex. Harry wasn't going to stay around and listen to her tell him, albeit in a nice way, that he was insane. His parents payed Riddle 200 dollars an hour for that. Hermione Granger was his friend, not his psychatraist, and he had been crazy for asking her help on this matter.

Author's Response

Marauder Number 5: Ooh! Yay, you've returned! billy madison dance Computers can suck like that... Or they can be useful. It all depends on the computer. I have a good one and a slow one I want to chuck out the window. But I love it too much... and it's got too much of my stuff on it. Heehee, sorry this isn't more to your tastes, but I'm glad you're enjoying it anyway. Honey, you know I'm a Sirius x Remus shipper all the way. That's my favorite couple of all time. They're so yummy together, there's just no way I wouldn't pull for them 100. I swear, I need a button or something. Heehee! Nice to hear from you again! I hope you continue to enjoy.

emurez: Wee! I'm keeping true to my reputation, then?

willow: Ack! Don't fall! Well, you see, the reason that people aren't reviewing is because the aspect ratio of the words and phrases in this story, and the quotient of the dividens of the title and chapters... Yeah, I don't know. Your guess is as good as mine, but that's okay. This story is also up on and I've got 53 reviews there. And that sounded really vain and stuff. I don't really care about reviews as long as people are enjoying the story and I'm satisfied with it. And I pretty much am. But at least you're reviewing! Thanks for that, by the way.