AN: Chronically late these days, I'm sorry as I meant to post this on Friday. Life caught up to me and gave me the royal smack down, but I've pulled myself back up again and hopefully will be back on task this week. Thank you to BrennaM as always, as well as xxx-kisses-xxx, Rane2920072, and Raspberri13, I promise I'll do better thank you's next chapter.
Harry held the letter in his hands, drawing out the moment, partly dreading some written set down for presuming to impose on a man's private grief. The other part, which oddly enough sounded like Hermione, pointed out that Remus Lupin was not the sort of man to be unnecessarily cruel, and worse case scenario, he would be distantly polite with a short missive. Lastly, there was an insistent voice that kept repeating, "Hurry up, open it." It took him a moment to realize that it actually was Hermione, eager to hear what their ex-professor had to say. She was eyeing the letter nearly as fervently as the chocolate littering his bed.
Taking a breath, he opened it and read the contents. A second time, his eyes scanned the words, and then a third, in disbelief, lingering over two lines in particular:
…I truly believe that both he, and your parents would have been proud of the loyalty and courage you had shown…
…Never doubt the depths of the affection you held for him, nor his for you…
He allowed his lids to fall, savoring the warm sensation of acceptance that came from having read conformation that his godfather had cared for him, that his parents likely would have been proud. It was a bittersweet joy, much like seeing the generations of his family in the Mirror of Erised, to know, yet never really feel or witness firsthand.
There was the familiar prickle of tears behind his lids, which he tried to fight. Why were some of his happiest feelings tied up with pain? He'd cried so much over the past weeks and months, alone, with Ron, with Hermione, with Ginny. When was he going to be done? He dragged the sleeve of his robe across his nose, a disgusting, but effective habit to be sure, trying to battle the inevitable onslaught.
Harry barely noticed when Hermione plucked the letter from his hands, replacing it with a handkerchief that she found, Merlin only knew where. It took her less than a minute, she'd always been a fast reader, before she put it down and scooted on the bed to sit next to him.
"I do believe Professor Lupin has a touch of the Irish poet in him," she observed.
He couldn't help but give a watery laugh, thinking that his friend had a penchant for absurd statements at times. "He…" Harry twisted his head to look at his friend. "It's not my fault," he said, letting the tears fall, a mix of comprehension, pain and relief. "At least not like I have been thinking…"
"No, it's not your fault," she confirmed. Her eyes shimmered in response, adding to the effect of pooling chocolate in her eyes. Hermione slung an arm around his shoulders, letting him vent for a few moments, to exorcize the demons that had been chasing him in his conscience.
He finally collected himself, wiping his eyes, blowing his nose, feeling cleansed of the burden weighing in his mind. "Feel like a right berk, crying all the time you know…"
"Don't take this the wrong way, but you kind of are. Not for crying or anything…" she assured him, "but I've spent all this time telling you that you weren't to blame, and you never believed me. I'm not sure if I should be happy because Lupin has gotten through to you, or mad because it only took one letter from him for you to see reason, and I've been here for months trying to get you to see the same thing."
"You'll be happy for me, especially since you get to say 'I told you so', and I know how much you enjoy that."
"I most certainly…"
He interrupted her, "DO! Remember the Firebolt, and when Sirius owled that he had ordered it for me?" There was still a shadow of pain, but nowhere near the crushing wave of emotion that typically emerged at the memory of the man over the past months.
"I was in third year then…"
"And you still like to say it as much now as you did then. I'll even do the unthinkable and admit that you were right."
"Which takes half the fun out of an 'I told you so'. Oh so big of you Potter." She growled.
"Yes, well, that's the kind of guy I am after all…"
"If you were any kind of guy at all, you'd grab Ron and shove Malfoy off the astronomy tower and make Ron's prediction real."
A snort came from the doorway, "Nah, we're going to stand back and watch you do it Herm." Ron walked over and leaned on the bedpost.
She laughed, "Do I have to do all the work Ron? I already punched him, losing ten points for my efforts."
"It was worth it though," Harry pointed out. "You broke his nose after all."
"And we got out of class early, that's always good." Ron added.
"Honestly, can you be any more juvenile?"
"That's a mite hypocritical of you. You can't encourage us to shove him off the tower but take us to task for enjoying the physical pain you put him in."
"Nor can you attack me and Ron for being grateful for a shorter class when you've ducked out of yours early all day!" Harry defended.
"Fine, FINE!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "I know I'm not going to win this one. It's been a bad day." She snatched up a bar of chocolate. "Probably give myself a half dozen cavities by eating this to top off my day. I can hear my mum now…" She took a bite, waving an envious Ron over. "I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind if you had some." She looked at her bespeckled friend for confirmation.
"Bloody well better not since I got the heating charm from Ginny…"
"Language Ron… And thank you. I am sorry that I acted like a harpy, even though you shouldn't have taken my essay in the first place."
"I accept your apology, you can't help it considering what's wrong with you anyway," he replied while tugging on a lock of her hair.
Hermione glared at him, trying to decide if she should brain him with a pillow or let him live with a nasty hexing, then realized he was joking. "The only thing wrong is the current rumor mill grist." She said, changing the subject. "Is Ginny back from dinner?"
Ron shrugged, then got up and yelled out the dormitory entrance, "OY! Ginny!" There was some form of reply and eventually a second redhead joined their group.
"What's up?" Ginny asked, helping herself to a butterbeer and half of Hermione's chocolate.
"Aside from the fact I can't show my face tomorrow because of Malfoy," Hermione started, her face turning red as she frowned.
The youngest Weasley waved her off. "That'll blow over inside a week. Most of the girls, except for the Slytherins of course, won't laugh or anything, everyone's had some sort of embarrassment when it comes to monthlies."
"GINNY!" Harry and Ron were looking anywhere but at the girls, both faces flushed with color.
"What? It's true, Charlie walked in on me this summer… Anyway, as you can see, the male half of the population is just as embarrassed about the subject as you are. Some of the first and second years will snicker, but it will blow over if you don't make a big deal over it. And besides, most people can't even see thestrals. D'you really think they are going to listen to Malfoy?"
She groaned and hung her head, cinnamon hair shrouding her rosy cheeks, affording her privacy from the other three for a few moments. "Why wouldn't they? They believe Pansy." Hermione forced herself to related the prattle she'd overheard in the loo that morning. "It has to stop, I can't stand people thinking those kinds of things about me."
"Well, the answer is clear, you just have to start seeing someone." Ron announced.
"Oh sure, just like that… I'll just ask the next guy I run across if he'd fancy a bit of a snog, shall I?" Hermione quipped, sarcasm heavy in her voice.
"He didn't mean that Herm, it's just that you've never shown any interest in anyone since the Yule Ball and Victor, outside of helping Neville with potions, and spending time with Ron and Harry, what did you expect people to think?" Ginny pointed out.
"Victor is an intelligent man…"
This elicited a snide sort of snort from Ron, "I'm sure you and Vicky had loads to talk about, him being a Quidditch star and all…"
"Merlin Ron, don't start this again. Victor is one of the few wizards I could have a real conversation with, and these days, we don't even do that! I'm lucky if he owls me once a month. Don't know why you get so worked up over it when it's not like you have any interest in me anyway."
"Well how would you know? Maybe if I knew I wasn't going to be nagged about schoolwork or SPEW, I'd ask you to go to bloody Hogsmeade with me." Despite the fact that he was just short of yelling, he was surprised to find that it was the truth.
"And maybe if I was guaranteed intelligent conversation that didn't revolve around Quidditch and dungbombs, I'd consider accepting!" Both Hermione and Ron looked taken aback by her statement. She kicked herself mentally for not considering the words before they came out of her mouth. Ron Weasley had the power to make her so angry that she'd abandon level headedness in favor of snapping out a quick retort.
"I suppose that's one way to make a date," Harry commented dryly, which served to set Ginny off into a fit of giggles.
"I never agreed to go, I just said I'd consider," Hermione huffed at her friends. "Besides, Ron wasn't serious, were you?" At least, she was pretty sure he didn't mean it.
"And why not? What's wrong with going on a date with me?"
"N-nothing, it's just that…"
"Think about it 'Mione," Ginny chimed in, "it could go a long way to squashing the rumors about you and Harry…"
"Fine, I'll think about it. Too much has happened to me today to agree or refuse anything." She yawned. "And on that note, I'm going to bed. Ginny, would you walk me down so that I'm at least spared the speculation that I was up here alone with the boys?"
The other girl complied, trekking down the stairs with Hermione. "You could at least get them off the notion of you and Harry, and on to you and Ron if you did go to Hogsmeade. Nobody's asking you to marry Ron after all…"
"The problem is that I don't want anyone having notions about me and anyone in the first place!" she hissed, keeping her voice low to prevent being overheard.
"Bit late for that, don't you think?"
"If the female gender, as a whole, weren't such a fluff-headed lot, I wouldn't be in this position in the first place."
Ginny rolled her eyes, "No, actually, if you dated occasionally, you wouldn't be in this position."
"Not like anyone's been scrambling to spend time with me. And nobody's really caught my fancy anyway…"
"Are you interested in witches instead of wizards Hermione?" Ginny looked a little uncomfortable asking.
"No, a-at least I don't think so… Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against homosexuality, but I prefer guys."
"Well that's good," the redhead egged her on by letting a note of disbelief enter the statement.
"I think loads of guys are cute, really" Hermione responded a trifle more vehemently than necessary.
"Like who?" Ginny challenged.
"Bill, for one."
"My brother?" was the squeaked response.
She giggled a little, "Yeah, and Charlie. You get him going about Norwegian Ridgebacks and Welsh greens, and his eyes take on this gleam, and waves his hands around, and they're so big and strong looking…"
"Those are my brothers!" Ginny protested, half disgusted.
"So? They are still guys, even if you don't appreciate them as such. Ummm… Who else? I had a crush on Lupin in third year…"
"So far, you've shown a fascination with Weasley men and Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, though I notice that you left Lockhart out. There is something wrong with you!"
By this time, they'd made it to the sixth year dorms, and continued the conversation on Hermione's bed. "Lockhart doesn't count, it was second year. And there is nothing wrong with me! I just like strong men with a bit of intelligence behind the looks. It's all moot anyway since it's all hormones, and none of them would look twice at me anyway."
"Lupin's not exactly what I'd call strong."
"Ginny, the man changes into a werewolf once a month. It's very painful, and that takes a special kind of strength to endure time and again, you forget that the Wolfsbane potion was only recently discovered, and that still doesn't affect the pain of the transformation." Hermione defended, "Which reminds me that I need to write to him."
Ginny grunted her concession of the point, "Do you even look at anyone in our age bracket?"
Hermione paused to think about it, fidgeting at the reaction her next words would probably cause. "Don't tell the boys, but if it weren't for the fact that Malfoy acts like such a bloody bastard, I'd actually consider him rather cute." She was surprised when her friend nodded agreement.
"What? I'm not blind, but he is a git for all the looks. Anyone else?"
"Nobody comes to mind. In fact, I should say this now, just to prevent problems later. Don't get your hopes up about Ron and me okay? I'll most likely go on the date, but it probably won't work out beyond that."
"You're predicting failure before you even go out with him, that sounds suspiciously like quitting…" Ginny accused.
"Leave the predictions to the divination fanatics, I prefer to think of it as being realistic. I care very much for Ron, and you and Harry for that matter, but I can't see myself with him, we are too different. Those differences are good when it comes to friendship, but for more than that? I don't know, it's just a feeling I have; almost like I'm waiting for someone…" she trailed off uncertainly.
"You know what I think? I think you spend entirely too much time over analyzing things and not enough time having fun."
Hermione sighed, "Probably right Gin, but if you tell anyone I just admitted to it, I'll… Oh, I'm too tired to come up with a threat, just don't tell anyone!"
"Nobody would believe me anyway, no worries…Goodnight."