A/N: So! I was forced to re-type this chapter over, and that is why I did not get it up sooner. Man! I am so pissed! But hey—these types of things always happen to me! Anyway…. Thanks to TrUeLoVe5193 for the review. I can't believe my last chapter made you cry… wow. Erm… there are only four chapters left after this my readers—four!
Lock and Key
Chapter 31
One by one, all of Harry's friends apologized or expressed their remorse. Parvati and Lavender were the first ones, following Ginny, and Terry Boot & Susan Bones were the last. The prophecy had hit them all harder than anticipated and left them feeling useless. However, they did promise Harry that they would stand behind him no matter what happened; their massive loyalty was not going to disappear under any circumstance. The Weasley children not in school all wrote Harry replies, basically conveying their own allegiance for him and admission that they had not been upset over the Hermione issue—merely surprised. Fred and George, in addition to their letter, actually came to see him at Hogwarts. Harry (and plenty of others) was exceptionally pleased to see them. Ginny spoke with them exclusively and explained Ron's attitude towards the Head Girl and Quidditch captain, and how it had not changed in the least bit. Revolted by his behavior, the twins exchanged limited words with him and left that day bidding Harry & Hermione goodbye, reminding him to call upon them whenever.
As for the Weasley parents, they wanted to speak to Harry in person, as did Remus. Molly's letter had been tear streaked and begged Harry to ask Dumbledore to allow him to use the Floo Network. He fulfilled Mrs. Weasley's request and went to the headmaster about the proposal three days after his heartbreaking interlude with Hermione.
"Yes Harry, of course," Dumbledore said, nodding sympathetically, "I have already spoken with Arthur, Remus, and Molly. They will be in this office tomorrow evening at seven, waiting for you." The boy nodded numbly, staring at the floor.
"You have nothing to be afraid of, Harry. They love you, just as many others do, and only want to show you their devotion.
"I… it's," he feebly began. He looked at the old wizard, "Telling everyone—it wasn't as scary as I had thought." All except telling Hermione. Dumbledore gave a slight smile.
"As I just said Harry, you had nothing to fear," he noted, "You are surrounded by those whom care for you."
After Neville's authoritative command, Ron had indeed sat down and read Harry's memo about the prophecy. The only thing it had accomplished was making Ron feel more torn and confused. It was a shaking idea, that of Harry having a good chance of dying and being the sole one able to stop Voldemort. The redhead had to admit to himself that he didn't like it. However, he was not about to walk up to his ex-best friend and just give in. Everyone else, all of their mutual friends—his own family—had offered up their remorse and apologies, but Ron could not. The memory of his pain the day he found out Harry and Hermione still burned within his brain and heart. He was still disconnected from Harry and that was not going to change, even in lue of the prophecy.
As for Hermione, she appeared to have lost something in her demeanor the day Harry told her of his future. She uttered fewer words and a dismal gleam seemed to dim her eyes. She was most always in Harry's company, and he was really the only one who could succeed in making her speak. The Head Girl had insomnia the couple of nights after he confessed his secret and spent the hours curled up, tangled in her sheets. Hermione saw this as a blessing in disguise, however, because she feared what she would dream if she did sleep. (Her suffering over Harry would only intensify with over-imagined, visual aids). All prior thoughts and concerns, including Ron, were pushed out of Hermione's head as Harry ran through her mind. Only Harry. Harry and the grisly chance of him being taken away from her.
Harry made his way slowly to Dumbledore's office, eyes cast down and hands in pocket. It was seven o'clock on the dot, which meant that Remus and the Weasleys had presumably just arrived. With aversion, he had left Hermione on a couch in the common room, with a tome. Though, even with the book, Harry could see she held no desire to do anything but sit there. At least with him she had been able to sit there in his company while he held her. Harry seemed to hate being separated from her as well, especially now. It was beginning to feel like Hermione was the only person that mattered, the only one he didn't feel hopelessly alone around.
DA meeting tomorrow, he reminded himself, walking up stairs, Quidditch practice too. Session with Higgins tonight, a short one—only an hour. Harry sighed, choosing to focus on Quidditch. Gryffindor's game against Ravenclaw was very near at hand, and vital. Both teams were tied for points, so whichever House won the match would play Slytherin in the Quidditch Final. (The snakes had already secured their spot, having won one game more than the other Houses). It was the most anticipated game to date, but did not exceed the Final's expected splendor. Bert Riley was still around, often popping up to happily talk to Harry whenever he was on the pitch. Apparently he would announce the League's picks after the Final, and was convinced Gryffindor would make it and then take it.
"With your brilliant captainship, how can your House not take it," Riley grinned, "I don't want to give anything away, Harry—can I call you Harry, Mr. Potter?—but you need not worry about the Quidditch League at all, eh?"
Harry stopped walking, having come to the gargoyle. I wonder what Remus' advice would be about the Auror, Quidditch thing, he somberly thought, staring at the structure. Well he could go find out, could he not? Harry opened his mouth to recite the password but the gargoyle came to life on its own and jumped aside. Dumbledore descended his staircase, his beard long and white.
"Ah, Harry," he said, giving a mild smile, "They are waiting for you."
"You're… not staying?" the boy pondered.
"Oh no. I wouldn't dare to intrude. They wanted to see you, not me." The headmaster moved out of the way, allowing him space. Harry looked at him one last time before exhaling and beginning the climb. In his head he could already hear the cries of Mrs. Weasley.
When Harry walked into the office, he saw that the two men were standing while Molly sat in the chair facing the desk. Remus' hands were pocketed and all three looked wretched.
"Erm…" he quietly stated. Their heads all shot instantly in his direction. He gave a weak, awkward smile.
"Oh, Harry dear!" the plump witch wailed, standing and tears welling up.
"Hi." They watched him anxiously as he walked carefully over to them. Remus took his hands out of his pockets, looking grimly zealous. Arthur appeared much the same.
"Glad to… see, you all." Harry clumsily told them. The next thing he knew, Mrs. Weasley had him in a rib cracking hug.
"It's abominable! Completely abominable," she cried, "Oh, Harry, love, if I could give anything to make it not so, I would! You're so young!" He hugged her in return and patted her back a few times, and then pried himself from her clutch.
"Mrs. Weasley." Harry mumbled.
"Harry," Arthur started, placing a hand on his shoulder, "We've always said you were like our seventh son. And as far as we're concerned, you are. Whatever problem you have, whatever situation comes up, we care about and deal with, just like our other children."
"Thanks Mr. Weasley," he smiled gratefully. The Seeker then turned to Lupin, the last true Marauder. What was there to say? Could he say something along the lines that he'd be able to avenge the deaths of his parents and Sirius, the people whom had meant so much to both him and Remus? The ones Voldemort had taken from both wizards? Next to Hermione, Harry had been most apprehensive to tell Lupin of the prophecy.
Remus didn't allow Harry to vocalize anything; he simply embraced him, tightly. The boy closed his eyes and held on. No words were needed to communicate their emotions. Remus had come to love Harry just as much as anyone else and felt a fierce protectiveness for him, as if he owed it to Sirius, Lily, James, and himself.
"Harry, darling, how do you feel?" Molly asked when they were done with their sentimental hellos.
"Okay, Mrs. Weasley," he replied, "I've known about it for two years, so I'm all right."
"How were you able to keep it from us for so long? Why did you?" Arthur wondered.
"Out of fear. I was… just so petrified of telling you all, and during sixth year I didn't want to talk at all, let alone about that."
"But you had no reason to be afraid. We're here to support you, Harry."
"I know, or at least now I do. That's what Dumbledore told me," Harry muttered, "But… would it have made a difference? If I would've told you when I had found out?"
"Perhaps not." Remus responded, arms folded.
"Yeah. I mean, it's not like it can be changed…." Silence emerged for a brief period, in which Harry was weary that Mrs. Weasley would break into fresh tears.
"Hermione and Ron know?" the werewolf questioned. The Gryffindor nodded.
"All of my… friends, do. Hermione, well, she's… she's not taking it that well. And R-Ron, I wouldn't know. I'm pretty sure he knows about the prophecy, but, it's… we're still not talking." The redhead's name had come out hoarsely; it had been the first time in ages since he had said it.
"Are you telling me that he still hasn't approached you? Or given up on his anger? He's still acting that way?" inquired Molly, an outraged edge to her voice. Mr. Weasley was frowning broadly.
"Er… yes." The witch quickly turned to her husband, infuriated.
"Arthur! I want you to march over to your son when we're through here and talk some sense into him! This is ridiculous! Even after finding out about his best friend's fate, that boy continues to act as if—" she rambled.
"Mrs. Weasley," Harry swiftly interrupted, "No, Mrs. Weasley—it's fine. Please. You don't have to intervene. I'm getting alone well enough. Don't… .say anything to him, please." Her mask of fury instantly altered into sorrow.
"Oh, but Harry, dear—" Molly remarked.
"Really. I'm all right. Hermione and I are all right. We have each other." All three adults gazed at him before letting it drop. There was a general uneasiness in their eyes, but a curiosity as well. Harry had his own curiosity that he wanted to quench, consequently; he wanted to know how they felt about his bond with his other best friend.
"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I don't know what… He told you about us, me and Hermione, but we didn't mean for anyone to get hurt. We should have told him, and everyone else sooner, but it's just that—" Harry began.
"Harry, sweetheart, it's all right," Molly softly assured, "We are not upset with you, or Hermione."
"No," he asked brightly, "But it seemed like—"
"We were surprised dear, that's all. Quite surprised."
"Only over the fact that you kept it from us all," clarified Arthur, "The fact that you and Hermione carry feelings for each other wasn't so astounding." Mr. Weasley smiled.
"I saw your relationship in third year. I knew it would only grow stronger, develop into something more." Remus said, smiling discretely. Harry stared at them before a passive grin made way onto his face.
"Why would we disapprove of something that brings you joy, Harry," Molly pondered, the last one to smile, "We're happy for both you and Hermione, and we never stopped caring."
Ginny watched Hermione get up from sitting on the sofa and grab her book. Harry had left not too long ago, though she didn't know where. For a moment, Ginny felt a strong urge to go and speak with the Head Girl, to console her. She knew Hermione must be going through a depressing time with accepting the prophecy—that was visibly obvious. On the other hand, she also knew that Hermione was probably not in the mood for company. Ginny couldn't blame her, and wasn't crushed; they had had their lengthy, emotional reunion and it had been wonderful.
As Hermione began to take her path to her room, she saw Ginny and caught her eye. The Chaser gave a small wave and smiled. Hermione gave her own tiny smile in return and went on her way. No, Ginny wouldn't talk to Hermione, but she definitely would talk to someone—a 6'4" someone with red hair like her own and the same freckles. She had wanted to sit her brother down and discuss certain things with him since Easter, but had not really gotten the opportunity. Though, now, she was determined to. Ginny hadn't seen Harry's roommates for awhile, so assumed they were together. Now to find out their location….
"Lavender," Ginny stated, seeking out one of their girlfriends, the only Gryffindor, "Do you know where Seamus and Ron are?"
"In the Prefect's Lounge, with Neville and Dean," she responded, completing Divination work with Parvati.
"Thanks."
"Sure, Ginny."
The Weasley daughter cautiously pulled the door open to the Prefect's Lounge, hoping no other prefects (from other Houses) were present. She had been in the room on a couple of occasions with Ron, and everytime a snake, raven, or badger prefect had occupied the vicinity they had given her an unwelcoming look, as if to say, "You're not a prefect".
"Hi Ginny!" greeted Neville.
"Er, hi, Neville," she replied, noticing the pack of Exploding Snap cards. This is what they had been doing? She then saw her brother sitting rather sullenly on a scarlet armchair. His friends had adopted a new way in dealing with him. While they gladly continued to stay in his presence, they would no longer tolerate his egregious attitude regarding Harry. Ron could hate him all he wanted, but couldn't vocally bash him. To be safe they stayed off the topic of Harry, period.
"Did you run everyone out?" Ginny questioned.
"Yes we did," Seamus proclaimed, standing on an acid green loveseat, "The Ravenclaws and a Slytherin. It's not like they could say anything though, 'cause little Dean here is a prefect!" Dean swatted his best friend's hand away, grinning.
"Well, can I run you three out? I need to talk to Ron." He looked at his sister.
"So says the girl without a badge," Dean jested, "But of course, Ginny."
"Thank you," she noted.
"See you Ron!" called Neville as the three boys left, laughing over a joke. There was silence and Ginny sat down on a banana yellow sofa.
"What is it Ginny?" Ron asked, continuing to stare at her.
"You know mum and dad planned to come here sometime this week?"
"Yes."
"To see Harry."
"Yes," he said, closing his eyes.
"To talk to him."
"Yes," snapped Ron, "Why are you bringing this up? Him up?"
"Because I want to talk about him!" An abrupt silence ensued in which he gawked at her.
"You're not serious," he remarked.
"As serious as a vampire bite."
"Forget it, Ginny," Ron stood up, "I'm not going to stay here and be forced into—"
"Sit down!" Ginny commanded, the chance of hot tears welling up very probable as she looked at him. He glared at his sister, but obeyed her.
"I can't believe you, Ron," she began, "Even after hearing about the prophecy, knowing that Harry could die, you still won't talk to him!" He said nothing, but wore an irate expression and kept his arms crossed.
"Is it that serious? Harry's life isn't important enough to fix your friendship!"
"What friendship," Ron exploded, "Oh, you mean those two people who posed as my friends!"
"It's time to let it go," she argued, "Why are you determined to be so angry!"
"If I recall correctly, Ginny, you were angry yourself with Harry and Hermione!" A moment of stillness followed this statement.
"Yes… I was," Ginny confessed quietly, ashamed, "A lot of us were. But we didn't have a right to be. We should have supported our friends, not scorned them. No wonder they were scared to tell us…. I don't even think we had real reason to fault them."
"I have my reasons," he noted, muttering, after a short interval of silence, "But… why were you mad at them?" Yet another period of quiet made its entry.
"I held onto the whole, 'not telling anyone' notion, and feeling deceived," she commenced, distractedly playing with her fingers, "But, that was only a part of it, and probably not even the biggest part. I… the… the piece, of me, that can't fully get over Harry… reared back up. It was jealousy." Ron gaped at her incredulously, all anger gone from his face.
"It was selfish of me, and so wrong. I have a boyfriend! It was obviously poor justification," revealed Ginny, smiling sadly, "I'm disgusted with myself now because of it. Trust me when I say it's dead now—it died when I saw how much they meant to each other. But I let it blind my judgment. Ron, I know you fancied Hermione, but it's not—"
"I more than fancied her Ginny! It was much deeper than that," he told her, "But it was also more than just my feelings for Hermione. It was that brutal sense of betrayal. My two best mates betrayed me! I was the one closest to them, I made up that third side of the triangle! No one here knows how it feels!"
"Of course not Ron, no, b-but you say betrayal. How did they betray you by a-acting on their feelings?"
"By not telling me!" He was on his feet and his wrath had returned full force.
"Would it have made a difference? Would you have accepted and been happy with it if they had told your first?" Ginny pondered, gazing earnestly at him. Ron looked at her dubiously before letting out a loud, frustrated yell. He turned his back to his sister. Either he had no answer for that, or didn't like the real one.
"He gets everything, Ginny," Ron hissed through grated teeth, "He gets Invisibility Cloaks, new broomsticks, recognition, preference, loads of Galleons, fame, leeway, attention, girls—he has enough! Does he need this girl?" He whipped around suddenly.
"Why does he have to get her? Why? It's not fair! Harry wasn't there for Hermione last year—I was! He wasn't there to see how distressed she was. He wasn't there to see her tears, which by the way were for him! He wasn't there while she cried over him!"
"Ron he wasn't there for anyone! It's not like he singled her out! And now we know why; he had good reason to be distant!" she insisted, standing up, "And what about all of the times you've deserted Hermione, over little things that simply annoyed you? There have been many and you know it!" He scoffed and waved her off, dropping back down into his seat with a disgruntled face.
"You say he gets everything. Maybe… but he doesn't ask for it. He gets everything, but he also gets to fight the darkest wizard of all time. He gets to always carry the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders. He gets to have no parents. He gets to never live a normal life!"
"You don't understand!" he growled. Once more, there was silence.
"What I understand, Ron, is that you're hating Harry for the wrong reasons. You've been tainted by your own jealousy and self-assurance… what you feel you deserve. You're being incredibly selfish." Ginny then left without saying anything more or waiting to hear anything else from her brother.
Harry's arm lay over his bare face. It would not be too long before midnight and he was in bed, nowhere near sleep. When he had gotten back from speaking with the Weasleys and Remus, Hermione had left her spot on the couch. She did not appear again, even after his session with Higgins, so he checked the Marauder's Map. She was safe in her dormitory so Harry decided to let her be. Something out of the ordinary had happened while all of the boys prepared for bed. Harry had turned around from (magically) making his bed comfortably messy to see Ron looking at him with a drawn brow and frown. Ron's gaze fell away almost instantly, but Harry was sure he had been studying him for some time. The incident only further bothered and irritated Harry, causing him to uncivilly pull his hangings shut. Ron was still being a git.
Harry turned on his side and closed his eyes, attempting to sleep. A mere five seconds later they flew open. Was he delirious, or did the door to their room just click shut? Oh, even if so, it didn't matter; it was probably one of his roommates leaving for one reason or another. He closed his eyes once more. Fifteen seconds later, they opened rapidly. He wasn't delirious—he just heard his curtains rustle. Was someone trying to get in! It definitely wasn't one of the other four—they knew better. Harry sat up and reached for his glasses. Don't panic, he warned himself. With clear vision, he plainly saw his drapes move again. Okay, panic. He knew he should have put a charm on his four-poster! As Harry moved to get his wand, a soft voice uttered a spell. He was frozen in place, arm out and heart thumping quickly. A moment later, Hermione appeared at the foot of his bed. She had her wand in hand and she was wearing pajamas. (They were very nice pajamas: pale blue shorts that displayed her legs and a white tank top).
"Hermione?" he said, thoroughly calmed and taken aback. He relaxed as she stepped out of her slippers and climbed onto his bed.
"How'd… how'd you get in?" Harry asked.
"Alohamora for the lock and the Disillusionment Charm to disguise myself, in case I woke your roommates," she revealed, finding a spot right next to him. He looked down at what she was wearing again, thinking of another question, before she kissed him. From the way Hermione laid her body on top of his, Harry could tell the kisses were going to be about as extreme as they had been the night he told her about the prophecy.
He let it, or rather her, go on for a couple of minutes before ceasing; he didn't want to lose control and let things take their own, wild path.
"Hermione," Harry began, heart thudding crazily in his ribcage and holding her upper arms, "W-Why are you here?"
"You don't want me here?" she inquired breathlessly, looking in his eyes.
"No! I mean, yes! No. I mean, I'm just surprised, is all." The Head Girl pulled out of his grasp and got off him, bringing her knees up to her chest.
"I can't sleep," she quietly explained, "For the past few nights I haven't been able to sleep. Ever since you… told me, about it, I haven't gotten any rest. It's always there. It's all I think about! It's driving me mad, Harry, and I can't sleep! But it doesn't matter because I'm afraid to sleep. I'm afraid of what I'll dream, I'm afraid—" Harry took her into his arms and hugged her securely. She was becoming frantic and he didn't want to see her in that state—it was scary for him.
"I don't want to be in my bed," Hermione sobbed, holding her boyfriend, "Please. Let me stay here with you, Harry. I'll be able to finally sleep, if you're here…. I won't feel alone. Please."
"Of course Hermione," he remarked, feeling subtly ecstatic; having her with him would ease his pain as well. He kissed her neck, "Of course—you can stay. I want you to." Harry let go of Hermione and cast a Silencing Charm on his four-poster, smiling slightly. She moved to get under the bedding and then waited for him, also smiling. He put his wand and glasses back on the bedside drawer and settled in next to her. They blithely kissed one another a little while more before lying down in each other's arms. Perhaps sleep would now find them.
A/N: NYUH! There. I had to move a part meant for this chapter to the next one. Anyway, chapter 32 deals a lot with Quidditch, just for your information. Couple o' things to mention…. When Harry told everyone about the prophecy, he didn't mention the Neville thing 'cause he didn't want to bring him into it. I lost track of the specific time (in the story), lol. I used to have it. It's in May sometime, and that's all you need to know :D Also, I wanna know how you guys feel about Ron. Do you think he's acting as expected, or is he going overboard? Do you sympathize or abhor him? Just interested….