Choices Thrice Chapter 2, a harry potter fanfic

Choices Thrice

Chapter Two

"It's now or never, Potter. Make your choice."

Harry Potter awoke with a groan. This was becoming tiresome. He needed to get some sleep; he was supposed to leave tomorrow.

"And go where?" his mind asked. It was an appalling, yet unavoidable question. The time had come for Harry to depart in search of the Horcruxes. The plan was to get up early and head to Hogwarts.

School was not yet in session, which meant they could use the library as much as they needed to. Hermione had owled Professor McGonagall, who would be expecting them in the late afternoon.

Hermione had not acted any differently towards Harry since the accidental kiss, which was probably all for the better. Harry had done his best to be himself as well, although there had been a few moments where he had realized he had been staring at Hermione's lips.

"They even look soft…" Harry shook his head. He couldn't afford to think about it. He had much more pressing things to think about, rather than the softness of his female best friend's lips.

Besides, he loved Ginny. Right? She wanted him back, as soon as…

As soon as he came back…if he came back.

Groaning, Harry rolled over. He needed to shut his mind down and stop thinking. If he kept going like this, his thoughts would keep him up all night. Between Voldemort, Hermione, Ginny, and the Horcruxes, there was no rest.

Suddenly, Ron snored so loudly that Harry was sure the house was falling down. Harry chortled quietly when he realized it was only a snore, and closed his eyes, drifting into a dreamless doze.

The next morning, Hermione woke Ron and Harry early. They needed to discuss their first move while the house was quiet.

Tousle-haired and sleepy-eyed, Ron and Harry made their way down to the kitchen. The entire first floor was deserted except for the three of them--a rarity in the Weasley household.

"So," Hermione began briskly, placing three large mugs of coffee in front of them, "What's our first move?"

"The Hogwarts library," Ron said.

"Yes," Hermione said impatiently. "I mean, what are we looking for?" she added, looking directly at Harry.

"Well," Harry said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I guess we should just start looking for anything on the history. Artifacts, and such. Something of Gryffindor or Ravenclaw's…"

"Right," Ron agreed. "Maybe it's in Hogwarts…the Horcrux, that is," he added hopefully.

Harry shrugged, "It's a possibility."

"The school is really well protected though," Hermione added quickly. "He couldn't have gotten in without Dumbledore knowing."

"What if he made one while he was still in school?" Ron asked stubbornly.

Hermione scoffed, "He couldn't have in school. Underage wizards aren't that powerful."

"Look at Harry! He could make a Horcrux if he really wanted to!" Ron snapped, his telltale ears growing red.

"Are you suggesting Harry would murder someone in order to make himself immortal?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"Guys…please," Harry tried weakly.

"Of course not!" Ron shouted. "Harry would never!"

Hermione glared at him, opening her mouth to scold him again.

"GUYS!" Harry interjected. "Enough! I can't have the pair of you at each other's throats every five minutes out there. It…it's dangerous enough, ok?"

Hermione hung her head. "Sorry, Harry."

Ron gave Harry a half smile. "Yeah, sorry."

Harry nodded, a dark look crossing over his face. "This brings up an important point though. Listen, it sounds terrible, but I'm going to give you guys the same order that Dumbledore gave me on…on the night he died.

"I take you with me on one condition: that you obey any command I might give you at once, without question. I mean that you must follow even such orders as 'run,' 'hide,' or 'go back.' Do I have your word?" Harry asked, quoting Dumbledore word for word. He would never forget the way time seemed to stop when Dumbledore said that to him. Now he understood why.

Ron nodded mutely. Hermione nodded while whispering, "Of course."

"If I tell you to leave me and save yourself, you will do as I tell you?" Harry finished, posing the same question Dumbledore had once done to him.

Harry looked directly into his friends eyes. Ron's eyes gave away a mixture of emotions, fear, resilience, and determination. He nodded again, "You can count on me, mate."

Hermione's eyes were glistening, a tear rolling slowly down her cheek. She quickly raised a finger and wiped it away. "You have my word, Harry."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

Hermione stood, vanishing their nearly untouched coffee with a wave of her wand. "Perhaps we should pack."

Harry and Ron nodded their agreements, heading off toward their respective rooms to pack.

The rest of the morning was spent packing, and saying goodbyes to their friends.

"Take care of yourself, Harry. You're as much of a member of this family as anyone," Mr. Weasley told Harry, while Mrs. Weasley hovered around, asking whether they all had enough socks.

"Thank you," Harry answered. "You guys are the closest things to parents I've ever had," he added seriously, at which point Mrs. Weasley let out a loud sob and ran over to hug Harry. After a minute, Ron and Hermione joined in, making it a group hug.

Finally, it was almost time to go. Harry slipped out of the room to say goodbye to Ginny.

"We're about to go, Gin," Harry said quietly, letting his rucksack fall from his shoulder to the floor.

Ginny nodded, turning to face him. There were tears in her eyes. "Be careful, Harry."

Harry nodded, pulling her in for a hug. "Listen, Ginny…If…if I don't come back…I want you to…"

"Stop, Harry. Stop being noble," she told him. Then she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

Harry broke away and stepped back. "Bye, Gin," he said, feeling confusion wash over him. "Nothing. Ginny just kissed me and I felt nothing…"

"Bye, Harry."

"Hogwarts!" Harry shouted, feeling the flames licking at his ankles. The last thing he saw was a teary-eyed Mrs. Weasley waving at him.

Moments later he fell out of the fireplace with a thud, landing in the Headmistress's office at Hogwarts.

"Afternoon, Potter." A moment later there was a second thud. "Afternoon, Granger." A third thud. "Afternoon, Weasley."

"Afternoon, Professor," they answered together, standing up and brushing themselves off.

Harry glanced wearily around the Head office. The first thing he noticed was the large portrait of his former mentor, Albus Dumbledore. Not wanting to look at it, Harry turned and looked around the rest of the office.

The room looked much as it did when Dumbledore was alive. There were still many strange objects that Harry did not understand. There were spindly tables, and old books. The only thing missing, aside from Dumbledore himself, was Fawkes.

Minerva McGonagall smiled at them. "I assume you'd like to head for the library."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, we'd like to see some books."

McGonagall nodded, "I figured as much. I lifted the spell blocking you from the Restricted Section. You can look at any book you like. I just have one question."

Harry groaned inwardly, he had known this was coming. "What are you looking for?"

Harry shook his head, "Sorry, Professor. I promised Dumbledore I wouldn't tell anyone."

"You might say I took the secret to the grave, Harry," Dumbledore's portrait said, laughing at his own joke.

Harry smiled awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

McGonagall sighed, "As you wish it. Well, you know where the library is. Off with you."

After a few moments of quietly padding through the hallways, Hermione sighed, "It's so strange…"

Harry nodded silently next to her.

Ron groaned, "Remember the treacle tart, Harry? They served the best treacle tart…"

Hermione scoffed, "Leave it to you, Ronald, to think of food at a time like this."

"A time like what, Hermione?" Harry asked coolly.

"A time…" Hermione began, but couldn't think of how to finish it.

Harry frowned, feeling guilty about being cool with his friend. "Don't worry about it."

Once they reached the library, they each grabbed a lantern and split up. They had a lot of ground to cover.

After nearly too hours of flipping through the yellowing pages of old books, Harry's head hit the table, his glasses askew, his sleeping brain racing towards the graveyard…

"Enough! Your time is up, Potter! Choose…NOW."

"Take me, Riddle. Let them go and take me."

"I make the rules, Potter. And tonight your friends die. I've given you plenty of time to choose. Who's it going to be?"

Helplessly, Harry looked at his friends. Ginny was crying. "Harry, I love you. Save me, please…"

Ron's face was pale with fear. "Just kill the bastard, Harry! You can save us all, I know you can.."

Hermione stood tall against her tombstone, her cinnamon eye's fusing with Harry's. "Harry, I think I've found something…"

"What?"

"Harry, I think I've found something."

Harry jumped up, tripping over his rucksack and falling on his back, hard. Cursing to himself, he pulled himself off the ground. "Sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's ok. Where's Ron?"

"Asleep on the other side of the library."

Harry snorted. "The fearless defender." He chortled at his own joke. "So what did you find?"

Hermione smiled, turning a large brown volume around on the table, so it's print faced Harry.

'Godric Gryffindor was the first known wizard to place his trust (and thoughts) into a pensieve. It was in his own pensieve that he placed all thoughts and ambitions regarding Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, including those thoughts of his own colleagues, such as Salazar Slytherin. Today, the location of the pensieve is unknown. It was once thought to reside inside Hogwarts Trophy room, but if it ever was there, it is not anymore. It disappeared…'

The book went on to describe more about Godric Gryffindor's falling out with Slytherin, which eventually caused the rift that still exists between Gryffindor and Slytherin students.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, lying the book back against the table. "This is brilliant!"

Hermione beamed, "I thought so," she said excitedly, leaning across Harry to pull the book towards her.

Harry caught a whiff of her scent. She smelled like shampoo and old books, it suited her.

Harry leaned forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, I don't know where I'd be without you."

Hermione smiled, "Thanks, Harry," she said, looking into his eyes. For a moment brown eyes locked on green eyes, and time seemed to stop. Harry had never noticed just how brown her eyes really were.

Unconsciously, they leaned toward each other, until Harry realized he could feel her breath on his lips. His eyes seemed to droop heavier, closing against his will. 'If I lean forward another centimeter…'

It took every ounce of his strength to pull his head, back. "Really, Hermione. This is brilliant," he said, his voice shaking. 'Did we almost just kiss?'

"What? Yeah, thanks…" Hermione said quietly. For a moment hurt flashed across her eyes, but then she resumed her brisk demeanor. "I just don't know where we could possibly look for it."

Harry frowned puzzling over it. "I guess we should find a place to crash for the night."

The Leaky Cauldron was not exactly the most discrete place in the world, but all they wanted was a place to sleep. Tom, the landlord, greeted them enthusiastically, offering them any room they would like, since they were his only customers.

The Death Eaters had made Diagon Alley a dark place to visit. No longer were the shops hustling and bustling. The street was deserted; many of the shops had packed up and left.

The only store, apparently, to have customers, was Fred and Georges's shop. They didn't go in though. They didn't want anyone to know they were there.

"You guys sleep, I'll stay up on watch tonight," Harry had told them, pulling a chair up the only window in the room.

There were two beds, Hermione took one and Ron took one.

Hermione couldn't sleep. She watched Harry's dark outline pace around the room, stand at the window, lean in his chair, and pace again.

'I thought he felt it too. I thought he wanted to kiss me. Why? It doesn't matter. I love Ron…right?'

"Ron, wake up. Harry's gone."

"No, you can't feed turnips to a hippogriff…."

Hermione rolled her eyes, smacking Ron hard out of frustration. "RON!" she shouted, causing him to bolt upright. "Harry's gone," she added, much more quietly.

"What?" Ron snapped, his eyes darting around the room. "He wouldn't leave us."

"Well he has."

"'Mione…" Ron said, using his pet name for her, taking her hand.

"Ron, for the last time: Don't call me that!" she snapped, yanking her hand from his.

"Sorry," Ron murmured, his ears glowing red.

Hermione sighed and sat down next to him. She felt bad for snapping at him, but she really did hate that name. "It's ok. I'm just tired."

"Didn't you sleep?"

"A bit."

This time when Ron tried to take her hand, she let him. They weren't dating, per say, but things had changed between them after Dumbledore's death. They never discussed what was happening between them. They had kissed a few times, but to be honest Hermione just didn't feel anything. After all the years she'd spent hoping Ron would pluck up the courage and ask her out, it was rather a let down.

She let him hold her hand, and kiss her, because she kept hoping she would feel it. She hoped it would wake up inside of her, and complete her, but it never did.

'But when I kissed Harry…'

Hermione shook the thought away as Ron leaned forward to kiss her.

Tired, but happy, Harry headed towards his room in the leaky cauldron. His leg was killing him, but there was no doubt in his mind that Hermione could mend it for him. Shifting his bag on his shoulder, Harry felt the weight of the pensieve bump against his back.

"Ron…" Hermione said, breaking the kiss that had barely begun. "Do you…do you really feel anything?" she asked, looking him in the eye.

"Well, yeah, it feels good."

"No, Ron. More than that, do you really feel something?"

"I don't know. What am I supposed to be feeling?" Ron asked, his ears growing red. Was she saying he wasn't a good kisser?

Hermione sighed, "I don't know either."

Ron's face fell, understanding. "No, I don't."

Hermione gave a sad smile. "Sorry."

Ron nodded, "Can we just give it one more try?"

Half-heartedly, Hermione let Ron lean in to kiss her, hoping, praying she felt something.

The door swung open, and sudden anger flared in Harry's chest. Ron was leaning into Hermione, pressing his lips on hers. Clearing his throat loudly, "Ahem!"

Ron jumped back, ashen faced.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" Harry asked stiffly, slamming the door behind him. "There's no room for secrets here."

Hermione shook her head. "We're not dating, if that's where you're going with this, Harry."

"Oh? That's not how it looks. Friends with benefits, perhaps?" he said with a sneer.

"It's nothing, Harry. Really," Ron said quietly. "Nothing," he added with a meaningful look at Hermione.

"You felt nothing?" she asked, suddenly forgetting Harry was even in the room.

Ron nodded. Hermione smiled. "That's a good thing, Ron. We can both move on from our childhood crush."

Ron smiled too. "Yeah."

"What?" Harry asked, sounding frustrated.

Hermione sighed, "Harry, everyone knows I fancied Ron. Now we both know it's not there anymore."

Without realizing it, Harry let out a sigh of relief, his eyes fixing on Hermiones.

Ron coughed, "So where were you this morning? And why is your leg bleeding?"

Hermione gasped, noticing the red slash that gaped through the hole in his jeans.

"I went and got us a Horcrux."

"What the hell, Harry?" Ron snapped at him. "I thought we were bloody in this together?"

Harry sighed, "I know…I just…I had to get this one alone." He paused, as if trying to decide how to word this. "Last night, while I was on watch, I realized where it was. I found the pensieve, Hermione."

Hermione took a sharp intake of breath. "Where?"

"In the strangest place. Do you remember last year, how the Death Eaters got in?"

"The Vanishing Cabinet," Ron supplied.

"Right," said Harry. "And it was in the same place I hid my Potion's book. That's where the pensieve was. Voldemort must have known about the room before he left Hogwarts. I think that when he went back to see Dumbledore, all those years later, he took a pit stop in that room, hiding the pensieve."

Ron grinned triumphantly. "I told you it was in Hogwarts," he said to Hermione.

Hermione sighed impatiently, rolling her eyes before turning her attention back to Harry. "How do we destroy it?"

"I'm not sure, but we can't do it here," Harry said, referring to the Leaky Cauldron.

"We can take it to Grimmauld Place," Hermione said slowly. "I've done a bit of reading on the Fidelius Charm…maybe we can make you the new Secret Keeper, Harry. And make it so Snape can't get it."

Harry sighed; she was right. They needed a place where no one would disturb them, and Number Twelve; Grimmauld Place was rightly his residence.

It took them two days to get the charm right. Harry scrawled the words, Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place on a bit of parchment, and once Hermione and Ron read it, the building reappeared before them. "Brilliant, Hermione!" Harry had exclaimed when it worked.

"Well done, Hermione, really…" Ron said.

Grinning, Hermione led the way into the house.

Sitting at the kitchen table, they surveyed the pensieve. It was gold, with flecks of red. Gryffindor colors…Harry mused.

"So what should we try?" Hermione asked.

"Destructo!" Ron shouted suddenly, pointing his wand at the pensieve. The pensieve glowed white for a moment, before rebounding the jinx onto Ron.

Hermione screamed as Ron writhed in pain, falling out of his chair, smashing his head on the table on the way down. Lying on the floor, blood pooled near Ron's ear.

"Shit!" Harry yelled, kneeling next to Ron. He grabbed Ron's wrist, feeling for a pulse, before letting his arm drop. "He's not dead," he muttered to a shaken Hermione.

It took both of them to carry him into the living room and lay him on the couch. "He should be fine when we wakes up. He's lucky his jinx wasn't that strong," Harry said with half a smile.

Returning to the kitchen, Hermione suddenly had an idea. "What if we break it?"

Harry shook his head doubtfully. "It's made of iron, Hermione, I doubt we can break it."

"What if we transfigure it into something more breakable….like glass?"

Harry's brow furrowed, it made sense. Taking his silence as a maybe, Hermione pulled out her wand, pointing it at the pensieve.

"Glassio!" she murmured, flicking her wand sharply. For a moment, it looked as though nothing happened, then, the pensieve seemed to shake, and shimmer, the gold of the metal fading away into…

"Glass," Harry said, tapping the pensieve with his wand. It made chiming sounds with each tap. "Brilliant…" he said, staring in awe at Hermione.

Flicking his wand though the air, Harry conjured a simple muggle hammer. With a glance at Hermione, he raised it above his head, preparing to strike. Hemione took a deep breath, holding it in.

Letting his arm fall, he made contact. The sound was incredibly loud, more like an explosion than a shattering. The cabinets around them swung open, chairs toppled, and Harry's scar felt as though it had split open. Hermione and Harry both fell to the ground.

After a few seconds, the trembling stopped, and they stood, dusting themselves off. On the table, where the pensieve had been, there was a large burn mark, surrounded by bits of gold. Rubbing his scar, Harry began to laugh. They'd done it.

"Hermione!" he shouted, "We did it!"

"Yes!" Hermione yelled, running and hugging Harry.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, "You did it, Hermione. Thank you."

And then he kissed her.

A/N: Yeah, I know, it's long. Slow start. I want something deep in this story, more than in any of my other fics. So yeah, this is chapter two. I hope you liked it, I know it's not as steamy as other stuff. I'm building here, people. Anyway, you can find me on AIM as TimeTurner182. Thanks!