More thanks to Missybewitched for Beta-ing this in record time!
Chapter 11 – Close Encounters
Harry slowed down from his murderous rampage and took slow, silent steps when he heard what sounded like teachers' voices coming from around the corner of the corridor he was planning to run down. He crept closer to the wall, not wanting to alert them to his presence; he was already late meeting Hermione, so he hoped he would be able to slip past them quietly. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was at the end of the corridor, and if he was caught in there he didn't think he would have a chance of going to Hogsmeade. Not that being confined to the school grounds would stop him; it just meant that he would have to be more creative when it came to avoiding being seen by the wrong people.
Harry peeked around the corner and had to cover his mouth with his hand to stop himself from shouting out an expletive and giving his invisible presence away. He had thought that he would have the weekend to find a potion or spell to remove the recent, unpleasant memory of ogling a young and pert McGonagall. He had not yet learnt the Memory Charm so he wasn't in any rush to cast it on himself. And he had been reminded as recently as last year of what happened when the charm was applied inappropriately. Harry didn't think he would have come this close to his Transfiguration Professor until Tuesday when he had his NEWT class.
Feeling a familiar heat beginning to creep up his neck, Harry turned his attention to the conversation between McGonagall and Flitwick. The two teachers stood in the middle of the corridor, their eyes flicking from side to side intermittently as they spoke in what Harry suspected they thought were hushed voices. However, due to the height discrepancy, they both had to whisper a little louder, which meant that Harry could hear them perfectly from where he stood hidden from their flicking eyes under his cloak.
"Has he been able to tell Dumbledore who attacked him?" Flitwick inquired eagerly in his high-pitched voice, his ears twitching with interest. He wore a dark green blazer with small golden tassels, which swung side to side as he bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly.
McGonagall shook her inclined head sadly, the red shawl she had wrapped around her shoulders slipping beneath her gnarled fingers. "He wakes at odd hours for a few brief moments and then falls back into unconsciousness. We have no idea what spell was cast on him, we only know that it was a spell."
The two teachers stood in respected silence for they knew the gravity of the situation that had befallen one of their colleagues. The silence ticked by into minutes and Harry was starting to worry. If they didn't say anything, there would be no noise to cover the sound of his footsteps and he knew that Professor McGonagall had excellent hearing due to her animagus abilities.
"I wonder who it could have been," Flitwick said, breaking the silence. "What does the Headmaster think of all this? I haven't been able to speak with him these past few days. He has been hard to get hold of."
"Dumbledore has his suspicions," McGonagall began, and she bent her body lower to whisper in Flitwick's ear so that Harry had to strain to hear.
"He thinks…" McGonagall shuddered. "He thinks it might be a student at the school. A sixth year"
Flitwick squeaked.
"And the student is?" Flitwick prompted.
"Harry Potter is under close observation." Flitwick gasped with astonishment. McGonagall shot him a stern look for interrupting her.
"Dumbledore wants to be sure before he makes his move…" McGonagall broke off, snapping her head around in response to a scuffle from the other side of the corridor.
Luna Lovegood was wandering aimlessly along the corridor towards the teachers. Her silvery locks floated behind her, strips of what looked like cellophane hung from the headband she was wearing, giving her a floaty, under-the-sea appearance. Harry thought that he would remain frozen in the spot forever. He couldn't believe what he had overheard. If Dumbledore had believed his story, then why was he being watched?
Luna's abrupt presence had sent the teachers scuttling towards the staff room where they could continue their conversation away from the ears of bumbling students. Harry watched Luna impatiently as she walked oddly along the stone corridor; her knobbly-kneed long legs were covered in hairy blue stockings. Her feet were hidden under purple ankle length boots, with which she was taking three steps forward and then two steps backwards with, the clicks of her soles echoing down the corridor with each concentrated step.
Harry decided that he couldn't wait around the corner for her to walk oddly past him. He could be waiting there for at least an hour and he was already late. Carefully, he checked that his cloak was still covering him and slowly crept around the corner and into the corridor.
Silently opening the door to the girl's lavatories, Harry crept in. He hoped that Luna would not notice that the door had appeared to open and close on its own accord. Harry spotted Hermione standing in front of the grimy sinks, slowly washing her hands. He was just about to make her aware of his presence by whipping off his cloak dashingly (as was his sense of humour), when Moaning Myrtle slid out of the spout that Hermione had just been using.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione moved around to another basin, and pulled the sleeve of her plum overcoat into her palm. She lent over the basin that was slowly succumbing to mould, and reaching out with her hand, cleaned the dirt-streaked mirror with the sleeve of her coat. Seemingly satisfied with her Muggle cleaning skills, she stood back and began to closely examine her appearance in the mirror. She applied a kind of white powder to her face, concentrating her efforts on one area in particular. It looked like she was trying to conceal the angry red mark that presently stood out dominantly on her face.
Harry took a step closer, beginning to feel uncomfortable; he was starting to feel like he was spying on Hermione. Myrtle, who had been sobbing about her own pale, pasty appearance and lamenting about not having beautiful, soft, peachy skin, stared at him.
A sneaky smile crept across her lips and Myrtle moved from her position above the toilet cubicles to float just above Hermione's head.
"So, getting ready to meet Harry are you?" Myrtle teased, her ghostly figure swaying slightly in the chilly air.
"Yes, I am actually," Hermione said matter-of-factly as she pulled her wand from her coat pocket, and began to curl her long lashes around its tip.
"I guess you like him a lot, don't you?" Myrtle inquired as her eyes watched Hermione apply her lip gloss, following every purposefully slick movement.
"Like who?" Hermione said vaguely, a glimmer in her eye.
"Harry, of course!" Myrtle said with annoyance.
"Oh," Hermione said grinning at the ghost, her perfect white teeth gleaming in the dim light. "Of course I do, what a silly question." Harry could tell that she was beginning to enjoy teasing Myrtle.
"How long have you been seeing each other?" Myrtle spit out, she turned to glare at Harry.
"We're not seeing each other," Hermione said softly. Harry shook his head with agreement at the ghost who was still staring at him.
The smile faded from Hermione's glossy lips. "We're just friends…" Hermione trailed off as she stared at herself in the mirror. Harry thought she looked crestfallen for the briefest of seconds before she turned her attention to her hair, beginning to smooth the frizz from her luxurious, auburn curls.
"You don't need to lie to me Hermione, everyone knows…" Myrtle sat on the basin in front of Hermione, waiting for her response.
Hermione continued to style her hair, squinting her eyes so that she could see her reflection in the mirror through the ghost. Harry wondered if she had even heard Myrtle.
Myrtle blew a raspberry right up close to Hermione's face so that it forced her to take a step back and look at the ghost. "Everyone knows that you're having relations!"
"WHAT!" Hermione yelled at Myrtle, her wand flying out of her hand clattering across the tiles of the bathroom, before finally landing in a mouldy corner. Her face had turned tomato red and she was breathing furiously. Harry too felt his face prickling, and dashed towards the door as quickly and as quietly as he could. He didn't want Hermione to know that he had heard anything, and he hoped that Myrtle wouldn't give him away.
Harry stretched his hand out towards the door handle as he was approaching it. He had decided that his best action would be to vacate the bathroom as quickly as he possibly could, recover from his embarrassment outside, and then re-enter the bathroom without his cloak, and act calmly and coolly so that Hermione wouldn't suspect a thing, eliminating the possible awkwardness that could occur if she knew that he knew what Myrtle had insinuated.
Almost jumping out of his skin, Harry stumbled on the rough stone floor as the door to the corridor began to open and someone walked in. He was trying to stop himself from colliding with the floaty colourful creature that had entered the room.
His right hand and long fingers that had been stretched out longingly towards the door handle, had grabbed a hold of something else entirely. Harry gaped as he realised that it was Luna that had glided into the bathroom, and his hand was reaching out straight towards her chest.
Luna's eyes which had been unfocused a split-second ago when she had entered the bathroom, had shot wide open with surprise as she felt the pressure on her chest and the coldness of the stone floor chilling her body. It had happened so quickly that she was confused to how and why she was lying on the floor.
Hermione had spun around when she heard the frightful noise, and she ran towards Luna.
"Are you alright?" Hermione's voice was filled with concern as she knelt down beside the white-blonde haired girl.
Luna looked at her, a fearful look evident in her glassy-blue eyes; a worried expression had taken over the vacant facial expression she usually wore.
"Luna?" Hermione shook Luna's left shoulder gently.
Harry lay still, panic stricken. He had no idea what to do, no plan of action, or way out of this situation that he could think of. He was completely paralysed, sprawled on top of Luna's bony body like some crazed criminal.
Luna now looked solemn.
"Don't cry Hermione, it's my time to go," Luna whispered as she stared blankly at the ceiling.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "What is it Luna?"
"The Grim."
"The Grim?" Hermione whispered. Harry knew that Hermione didn't believe in such things, she probably thought that Luna had become more eccentric due to a nasty bump on the head from tripping over clumsily and landing on the hard stone floor. Under the present circumstance, Hermione would be more likely to go and get Madame Pomfrey than Professor Trelawney. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Harry. If he could get Hermione to go to the hospital wing to fetch Madame Pomfrey, then he would be able to escape this situation unscathed. He then felt a bit uncomfortable as he realised that his thinking was leaning more towards a Slytherin's than a Gryffindor's.
"Oooooh," Luna moaned, "I'm finding it hard to breathe. This pressure is just too much."
"Don't be silly, there's nothing on your chest!" Hermione moved closer.
"Look, see".
And then her hands came into contact with Harry's head, pushing his glasses to one side.
Hermione screamed an ear-splitting shriek and scrambled back towards the wall as far away from Luna's body as she could get. Harry knew that she hadn't expected to feel anything at all, and it was this unexpected surprise that had caused her to scream. Although Harry felt bad for frightening her, he hoped that she would now believe Luna and leave the bathroom.
Harry watched Hermione so that he would know when he could stand without getting in her way and escape from the bathroom. Harry watched as she calmed down almost instantly. He felt every muscle in his body tense up. She could see him.
Hermione stood up and brushed the dust from her coat. She then walked over to Luna and Harry, and kicked Harry's grotty sneaker with disgust before she reached down and removed Harry's cloak with a flick of her wrist.
Scrambling off Luna and readjusting his glasses, Harry looked apologetically at Hermione and once more felt his face beginning to prickle. They both bent over and helped Luna to her feet.
Instead of looking embarrassed, as Harry thought she would, Luna smiled knowingly at them both.
"Don't worry," she said as she walked towards the toilet stalls, "your secret is safe with me."
Hermione looked at her retreating back incredulously, her face flushing a deep crimson.
Harry quickly took Hermione's arm and led her from the bathroom. As soon as they stepped into the corridor she yanked her arm from his grasp. They walked along the corridors in silence as they headed towards the Grand Entrance.
Finally, Harry broke the awkward silence when they were close to the Grand Staircase. He pulled Hermione behind a statue of a witch, and looked in all directions to make sure that no one would see them slipping under the invisibility cloak.
"C'mon, Hermione," he said smiling lamely, "let's go shopping."
She shot him a brief smile as she covered herself with his cloak, but quickly turned her head away as her cheeks became flushed.
The pair walked awkwardly out of the large entranceway and down the stone steps. They continued with their awkward gait down the dirt path that led to the wizarding village of Hogsmeade. Their efforts at trying not to touch each other too much was making their journey laboriously slow.
Harry didn't know what to say. He thought he had succeeded at overcoming the awkwardness between them back inside the castle, but obviously, he had failed dismally. Hermione was still not talking to him, was still not looking at him, and was still keeping herself as far away as possible without leaving the sanctuary of the invisibility cloak with which they were both huddled under.
He wanted to say something to her, anything. But each time he worked up the courage, he quickly lost it again. He didn't know if there was anything to say, or if there was anything right to say. Harry certainly didn't want to say the wrong thing. He knew that saying the wrong thing to a girl could make a bad situation worse.
Harry sighed softly and stared aimlessly at his surrounds. A chilly wind whipped the fallen leaves from the path in front and scattered them across the ground. A group of Ravenclaw students stood at the edge of the lake. From what Harry could see it looked as if they were making miniature ice-sculptures with the water. Hogwarts castle looked gloomy in the overcast weather, and Harry was glad to be outside.
"There's something I need to tell you," Hermione interrupted Harry's thoughts.
Harry turned to look at her and raised his eyebrows in response.
"I think Malfoy is spying on me," she said. "Everywhere I go he seems to be there."
"Maybe he has a crush on you," Harry said with a teasing smile. Inside, he felt a slight twinge of jealousy course through his veins.
"Merlin! I hope not!" Hermione exclaimed in mock horror. "Imagine all the complications! A Malfoy in love with a Muggle-born!"
Harry's smile turned into a grim expression of duty. "If I see him near you, I'll turn him into a ferret or something."
"I can take care of myself," Hermione said huffily. "I am better at Charms than you are, you know." She smiled and added, "I could charm his cloak to bind him or something."
They walked a few more metres in silence, their shoes making squelching noises in the damp dirt and grass. Harry was thinking that Dumbledore should really do something about this path when he remembered something he had to tell Hermione.
"The other night Snape was hit with a spell," Harry said monotonously. "The teachers have no idea what spell it was. He's still unconscious."
"What!" Hermione exclaimed. "Who could do that?" she whispered.
"Dumbledore thinks it's me."
"What!" Hermione exclaimed again.
"I overheard McGonagall and Flitwick in the corridor on my way to meet you. They said that Dumbledore was watching me before he made his next move," Harry said. He studied the path beneath his feet intently, a sliver of guilt beginning to form in his mind. "You see, Hermione, I was the last one they know of who saw Snape conscious that night…and I did hit him with a spell…I don't know what spell it was, but he was still awake when I left him…he was shouting my name…"
"Oh, Harry! I just know it wasn't you that attacked Snape. I'm sure you just misinterpreted what they were saying. That's why eavesdropping isn't a good thing…" she tried to comfort him.
"Yeah, well whoever it was," he said defensively, "he deserved it, the stupid git… wait til Ron hears why he's not taking potions…"
Harry trailed off suddenly.
"Oh, Harry! We will work it out," Hermione said softly, "at least I hope we do."
Harry blinked quickly and readjusted his glasses.
"Speaking of stupid gits," Harry said angrily, "Ron had my map."
"Which map would that be?"
"The Marauders' Map."
He watched comprehension dawn on Hermione's pretty face, the anger beginning to fade from his body.
"That's why he's been acting all weird! That's why he thinks I'm lying! He was spying on us by using that map!" Hermione almost shouted. Harry was amused; it was like she had worked out an answer to a difficult question that a teacher had asked.
"We should all be able to make amends then," Hermione beamed, "all we have to do is tie him up so that he will listen to us!"
When they were almost at the gates that were the exit from the school grounds, Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "This is ridiculous, Hermione!" He said in exasperation. "If we don't do this properly, then there's no point wearing my invisibility cloak. We may as well just walk hand in hand and pash in front of Zonko's if we're not going to conceal ourselves properly."
Hermione blushed and nodded her head. She then crept closer to Harry and tentatively wrapped her arm around his lean waist. Harry almost stopped breathing when he felt butterflies at her touch. He lent in closer to her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"There we go," Harry whispered in her ear, "as close as can be. No one will be able to see my feet now." He grinned at her.
"Yeah," Hermione smiled back at him "you don't want people seeing those old sneakers of yours!"
They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments, before Harry broke the connection. He was beginning to feel like he wanted to kiss her again, and now that he knew that she didn't want that from him he didn't think staring deeply into her eyes was appropriate.
"I think I want to go and get a Butterbeer first," he said as he led Hermione through the gate towards the town.