AN: I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 12: Pledge of Service
It didn't take long for Neville and Ron to find them in the sitting room. Her round-faced friend had a quiet, dark reserve behind his eyes that she'd never seen before, and it scared her. Harry nodded to the boys before turning back to explain his reasoning behind changing the method of brewing the Wound Cleaning Potion. His thought process always fascinated Hermione. Their third-year mentor, Master Ogata, taught them many things, but she cherished the fact that he'd reinforced why it was good to question what they were taught. She liked to examine and question why something came about, the history of the particular subject. Harry, on the other hand, tried to puzzle out a way to break down each topic into a set of variables or equations. He said it was the only way he could fully understand the subject.
"You remember Snape telling us about stirring the cauldrons with precise strokes and how you can blend or break down the contents? Right, so I got to thinking over the summer. With some experimentation, I found if you blend certain ingredients before breaking them down once or twice, then you get a stronger mixture. This is both good and bad, you see. Sometimes you don't want the poison, inherent in the ingredient, to strengthen itself during the mixing process. But if you know that, and can add less of the ingredient to make up for that, then you have something like this," Harry revealed as he passed another sheet across the small table at her.
Hermione picked it up and felt her eyebrows climb. He'd come up with step-by-step instructions on brewing the Wound Cleaning Potion using his advanced techniques. "You've tested this?" she asked after a minute of considering each step.
"As far as I can without a Potion Master checking my work, yes."
"That looks complicated, mate."
She looked over her shoulder to see Ron scratching the side of his head as he peered down. "How is Bill?" she asked as she put the parchment on the table.
"As well as can be," Neville answered as he took a seat beside Harry. "Sorry we didn't come up before." He'd seen something the last night, something Harry refused to tell her about, but, whatever it was, changed Neville. It seemed as if the innocent, happy boy she remembered from Cup never existed. That scared her.
Harry waved the apology away with one hand as he flipped through a small mountain of parchment in front of him. "It's vacation. I know you've never met Bill before, and it isn't like he's boring to listen to," he joked. "I want to pester him with a few questions myself." He paused and shook his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean that you were bothering him," he finished with a lopsided smile.
"Bill loves the attention anyway," Ron commented as he took a spot beside Hermione. "Blimey, you two are already at it," he groused as he picked up a small stack of papers. "Aren't these my assignments?"
Hermione glanced at Harry before turning back to Ron. "I am impressed," she praised and bit back a laugh when her redheaded friend started back as if she poked him in the stomach. She continued with a smile, "you answered every question in detail and gave more examples than were required for the assignment. Harry was just explaining how you'd come to a different conclusion than he had about the conclusion of the Sixth Goblin Uprising in greater Wizarding Europe."
"Blimey, Hermione. I just went with something Harry and I were talking about and ran with it. The facts seem to fit my theory on why the Werewolves got involved in that particular uprising."
"Yes, you did," Harry continued as he flipped a parchment over and tapped a lengthy paragraph. "Your research made me realize there might have been more to the uprising than I'd initially given it credit. It was the only werewolf uprising in the first half of the Goblin Wars, and it set the course for the next two years. It's something I should have realized."
Ron's cheeks heated as he waved his hand. "It's just an assignment," he muttered before shrugging his shoulders. "I'm sure old Professor Bins was around back then to tell us if we're right or not," he joked with a forced laugh.
"You don't give yourself enough credit," Neville interjected with a smile. Hermione looked at her normally quiet friend. While she was closer to Ron and Harry, Neville always impressed her. He rarely got angry and always had something nice to say. "You see patterns, Ron. You've always been the first to complete Professor Trelawney's constellation assignments."
Harry nodded with a smile. "He's right about that," he mused over Ron's grumbled protest. "You're brilliant at Wizard Chess and Quidditch. Both of those games require you to find a pattern and come up with a strategy to overcome your opponent."
"How do games equate to bloody summer assignments?"
Hermione found herself smiling wider as she noticed Ron's deepening blush. "Trust us," she stated and picked up one of Ron's assignments. She wasn't sure what happened over the summer, but she would get to the bottom of it. Harry would tell her why Ron acted more responsibly.
"Anyway, we should put all this away. Let's do something other than schoolwork. Blimey, we'll have too much of it in a week."
"Gran says I've worked harder over this summer than I probably did during the school year," Neville joked with a grim smile. "I think she'd try to adopt you, Hermione. If she really saw how hard you and Harry work."
Laughing, Hermione slid the papers aside to clear the table. "Your Grandmother scares me," she admitted. Augusta Longbottom had a certain air of power around her that had nothing to do with her prodigious magical ability. She simply radiated command through sheer force of will. "I agree, we need to set schoolwork aside for a little bit," she continued and ignored Ron's gasp of amazement. "There is something I need to talk about." Harry stared at her a moment before giving her a sharp nod. A deep expression crossed his face before it disappeared. She thought she might have imagined it. Something was going on with her friend.
"Is it about the Cup?" Neville guessed as he got comfortable on the floor, one shoulder propped against a lavish display case. His half-hearted smile faded as he stared down at the lavish carpet without waiting for her answer.
"Yes," she admitted as she took a deep breath. "No one would tell me what happened to you two last night," she said as she looked from Harry to Neville. "It was terrible, I know, but I need to know what it was. It might be significant."
Harry glanced at Neville and pursed his lips. "I'd rather not talk about it, but... yes, I think it's important for everyone to know," he answered before taking a deep breath. It took him a minute before he started speaking again, but once he did, he talked for twenty minutes straight. Hermione just stared at her friend as detail after detail came out about their flight from the campgrounds. It was like he was reliving the night all over again. Once he'd finished, Harry took a deep breath and looked at Neville. "I might have forgotten some things, or my mind inferred or altered what I remember, but that's what I remember."
"Blimey," Ron goggled as he stared from Neville to Harry. "She... just died?"
"Ron!" Hermione snapped when she saw the look of pure devastation on Neville's face.
"Yes," her round-faced friend answered barely above a whisper.
"Blimey, all we had to deal with was some crazy ministry people attacking us out of nowhere. One moment we were almost to the tree-line, and the next the Dark Mark was over our heads. About ten wizards appeared out of nowhere. They sent stunners in waves at us. I saw Charlie get hit four times before I blacked out. The twins somehow covered us. I still can't believe that."
"The twins had enchanted cloaks on," Hermione informed everyone with a glare at Harry. "They dropped two officials who expected no resistance. Mrs. Weasley was beside herself."
Harry had a gleam in his eye she associated with mischief. "I hadn't realized they got around to testing those ideas," he mused as he drummed his fingers on his leg.
"Bill saw you go down," Hermione continued with a shiver. "Ron... he can be very scary."
"Don't I know it," the redhead grumbled as he rubbed his chest.
"He waded into the ministry wizards flinging spells faster than I've ever seen. I think... I think there is more going on in Egypt than he's told us. Harry, they were curses he was sending toward them. I think Mr. Weasley mentioned he might be brought up on charges, as mental as that sounds."
"Unlicensed hunters," Neville announced into the brief silence. Everyone turned to look at him. "He just said downstairs there were always witches and wizards who disagreed with Gringotts. That might be who he's been fighting."
Ron nodded and scratched his head. "You might be right. He's always downplayed his role in things," he mused.
"Either way, Mr. Weasley won't allow anything to happen to Bill. Nor will the goblins," Harry said with a shrug. "Bill is a big earner for the bank."
Everyone nodded as Hermione took a deep breath. It was this she'd been wanting to talk about. "Mr. Crouch sacked his House-elf, Winky, after she cast the Dark Mark," she announced. Harry narrowed his eyes, and Neville started.
"Dad mentioned that," Ron muttered. "Right good of him to do that. No one needs a house-elf that can cast that spell."
"No!" Hermione snapped before she could stop herself. Ron looked hurt as he stared at her. "Sorry," she said and shook her head. Why was she so impulsive today? "That wasn't why I'm upset. Someone must have ordered Winky to cast that spell. It's the only thing that makes sense. She said she didn't cast the spell, and I believe her. He doomed her to die a slow, painful death. No one will want her now."
Harry had a strange look on his face as his eyes searched hers. "What you just said is contradictory," he said in a soft voice. "Either she cast it or she didn't."
"I'm explaining this wrong," she muttered. "How much do you know about the House-elf Bond?"
"An agreement between the patriarch of the wizarding family is made with the house-elf for the duration of their lives," Ron interjected with a nod.
"What else?" she pressed.
Ron faltered and looked around. "My Gran doesn't like house-elves as a rule. She never has," Neville said into the silence.
"Dobby," Harry said in a firm but quiet tone.
A quiet crack announced the arrival of Dobby in the middle of the four of them. His wide, tennis-ball-sized eyes peered around at them all before settling on Harry. "You called, Master Harry Potter?"
"Thank you for coming," Harry greeted with a lazy smile. The smirk reminded Hermione of one Sirius wore sometimes. "What are the accords between the House-elves and wizards?"
Hermione blinked and held her breath. She'd never had a chance to find out for herself what they were. Mr. Tonks had a similar view as Augusta Longbottom when it came to house-elves. "Oh, Master Harry," Dobby groaned as he wrung his hands and shifted from foot to foot.
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Dobby, why are you worried?" he questioned.
"Harry Potter has not asked this before," the house-elf tempered as he rocked back and forth.
"As I remember it, you initiated the bond. You got me to agree." Dobby swayed on his feet but didn't answer. Hermione looked between Harry and Dobby. She hadn't known that. "Dobby, please answer my question," Harry pressed.
"By the laws," the house-elf started before wringing his hands again. "By the laws, a ventiu, a House-elf, must Obey their masters. Obey in all things, no matter the order. If a ventiu fails, they must accept any punishments enforced by the bonded. A ventiu is loyal through the ritual symbolism of the bond. Clothes, Master Harry Potter."
Harry sat back and pursed his lips. "I didn't give you any clothes when we bonded," he mused.
"Clothes are a symbol of release," Hermione interjected as she frowned down at Dobby. "I've done a lot of study over the summer. House-elves are what I focused on." She ignored Ron's snort and stared at her closest friend. "The symbolism is that a wizard agrees to take in and provide for the house-elf in exchange for service. When you present clothes to a house-elf, you destroy that contract or bond."
Harry's eyes narrowed as his eyes flicked to Dobby. "You've told me before that you can feel me. You get something more out of the bond," he stated.
Dobby looked stricken as he hopped from one foot to the other. "Master Harry Potter," he pleaded.
"Hermione, House-elves want to be bonded. They love it," Ron complained.
Harry started and his hand gripped the table in front of him. "It's a symbiotic link," he hissed. "I never thought about it. I can feel, Dobby. That... oh, Merlin's Saggy Left..."
"Harry," Hermione scolded with a hiss. She looked back and forth between Harry and Dobby. "Oh, wait, wait," she spluttered as a thought rammed its way into the front of her mind. "That's why they need wizards! They link with your magic to survive."
"Worse," Harry groused and folded his arms. He looked uncomfortable. "Dobby, please tell me what you feel from me."
The house-elf hung his head and wrung his hands. "It's part of the Pledge of Service, Master Harry," he started before trailing off. A fat tear fell from one large eye. "I must live off your magic. I feel everything."
Hermione gasped as her suspicions became confirmed. "You become addicted to the feeling," she said, voicing her thoughts aloud. Dobby shuddered but gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Ron blinked and looked around. "We're like a drug to them?" he asked, his mouth falling open.
"Worse," Neville said into the shocked silence. "A wizard's power keeps them alive and makes sure they obey in all things. It's worse than slavery."
Harry looked sick. "A perfect slave and servant," he mumbled as he stared at Dobby. "We read about experiments in those books from Master Ogata, Hermione. I never suspected."
"Dobby, can we let you," she started to ask, but the house-elf cut her off.
"Dobby will die," the diminutive creature argued with a fierce look on his face. "Dobby would never want to leave Master Harry Potter's side!"
The four friends looked at each other. "What do we do?" Harry asked. He looked troubled and unsure of himself.
"We can't let him die," Ron said and crossed his arms. "It's what they were created for anyway."
Hermione shot him a withering look that made the redhead shrink back. "I'll need to do more research. We will do something though. You gave me your word you'd help," she stated as she looked at Harry.
"You have it," he said at the same time as Neville spoke up. "We'll help however we can, Hermione. You know that." Ron's face scrunched up, but he shrugged and nodded a moment later.
"Dobby, I'll say this again. If you ever don't want to do something. I order you to tell me," Harry said into the silence.
Hermione watched as Harry laid out a series of ways Dobby could tell him no or argue with his commands. She wanted to tell Harry it was a waste of time, but she couldn't. Harry was like a drug for Dobby. The house-elf would do anything to please him.
"There you four are," a deep voice called from the doorway. Sirius walked in and looked around at the troubled faces of the humans. "What's with the long faces?"
"We're learning just how evil the creators of the house-elves were," Harry grumbled.
"Oh? That? What are you going to do? The bond has been around for centuries, if not longer. I think the house-elves might date back to the Ancient Egyptian period. They revered the cat, and if you look at Dobby, he has cat-like qualities."
Hermione blinked and looked at Dobby. They all did. "No way," Ron said with a belly laugh. "You couldn't pass a house-elf off as a cat if you tried."
"Ah, but you forget," Sirius reflected as he crossed his arms. "We have magic."
That thought didn't comfort Hermione as she continued to stare at Dobby. She wasn't sure what to think or even where to start. While she couldn't hate Harry for his bond with Dobby, it still made her uncomfortable to think about it.
"Bill's gone out to speak with the Ministry. Mr. Weasely is with him," Sirius announced. "Dobby, can you start lunch?"
Hermione wanted to scream at Sirius, but the house-elf just beamed at him and disapparated with a quiet pop. Harry had a troubled look on his face. "Where are the twins?" Ron asked as he rubbed his stomach.
"Oh, they're exploring," Sirius answered with a smirk. "Harry, a word?"
Getting up, Harry nodded and shot her a raised eyebrow. She shrugged, not understanding what he was trying to convey without words. Once they'd left the room, Ron stretched and got up too. "Blimey, are you going to be shut up in here for a while? I wish we could play Quidditch. Oh man, I can't wait to try out those things Krum did."
"I thought you wanted to work on your spellwork," Neville interjected with a boyish smirk as he glanced at Hermione. She had a feeling there was a story there but wasn't sure what she was missing.
Ron's face reddened as he forced out a laugh. "Too true," he grumbled. "We've got so much to show you, Hermione. Here, watch this," he said as he drew his wand from the waistband of his pants.
Neville and Ron stumbled over themselves to tell her everything they'd done and worked on over the summer. She told herself she wouldn't be jealous. That lasted for ten minutes before she wanted to hex all of them into a puddle for not telling her.
Harry took one look at her face when he entered and froze. They locked eyes. She started to rise, but something on her face must have given her true thoughts away. Harry bolted as if his life depended on it. She wasn't sure it didn't. "Harry James Potter!" she bellowed and charged after him.
"You won't find him," Remus Lupin said as he stepped up onto the landing of the third floor.
Angry with her friend, Hermione spun and glared at her old professor. "What do you mean?" she hissed, balling her fists. "He can't have gone far! I want to throttle him."
Remus chuckled and leaned against the decorative banister. "Harry has become... adept at hiding himself when he wants to. Coupled with the fact that he's probably hiding under his Cloak, well," he said as he spread his hands. "Come on back downstairs. He'll show up in a while. Molly is back with Ginny."
"Oh, I have words for her too," she grumbled. She'd spent nearly an hour searching every room for Harry to no avail.
"Hermione, I realize you aren't happy with your friends who kept things from you, but, have you considered why they didn't?"
That made her stop and frown. "What do you mean, professor?" she questioned as she peered into a room with the initials R.A.B embossed on a plaque attached to the door.
"I, and Sirius, asked everyone to not mention what they were learning over the summer. This was for two reasons. First, I know Harry's mail was intercepted at least twice over the summer. Second, because Harry wanted you to focus on the frankly astounding opportunity you have to study with Mr. Tonks. Third, and most importantly, because the other children were not part of the agreement between Sirius and the Ministry. In fact, if they found out, Sirius could be brought up on trumped-up charges of endangering magical children. I am a werewolf after all."
Hermione squinted at a dark spot near the four-poster bed in the middle of the room. She thought she'd seen something move in the darkness near the window. "Why did you teach everyone?" she questioned as she closed the door and turned to look at her old professor.
Lupin sighed and looked at the floor. "I grew to love teaching. When I was in school, I loved showing my friends all the new things I'd learned and enjoyed showing them how to cast the various spells and charms. Once we graduated, the war started in earnest. At least, for us it did. After... well, life has a way of slipping you by once you reach a certain age. Time passed, and I survived. When Dumbledore asked me to teach, I was horrified, ecstatic, and out of my mind with worry. I remembered why I loved teaching. Losing the position was hard. Sirius desperately wants to connect with Harry, and the best way to do that..."
"Is through learning magic," Hermione finished with a smile. When she realized she was smiling, she scowled. "He could have told me," she argued.
"He could have, despite what we asked him to do, and one day, you might have to make the same decision on what to tell your friends. I know I've had at one point or another. You can be angry with him, but just remember, he did it for a reason."
Hermione knew her old teacher was right, but she didn't want to let Harry off, not yet. "I'll try," she all but growled. "He deserves to be hit though."
Lupin laughed a full-bellied chortle. "That he does. With all the headaches he's given me this summer, that he does."
Harry reappeared around dinner. He came downstairs, book in hand, as casually as if he hadn't been hiding all day. "You," Hermione said, her voice icy. Harry froze midstep. His eyes slowly rose from the book as a flush crept across his face. She wanted to hit him, hard. The dunder-head probably forgot why he was hiding. "Come here, now," she ordered.
Harry winced and closed the book. "Now, Hermione, we can talk about this," he wined.
"Come. Here."
Harry grimaced and slowly made his way down the hall toward her. Sirius appeared in the doorway to the ground-floor sitting room, a smirk on his face. He stared at Harry's back before his eyes flicked to Hermione. "You didn't tell me the extent of what you'd learned," she hissed.
"I was getting around to it," Harry wheedled. "We got sidetracked, remember?"
"You will go over everything. I mean, everything. Starting tomorrow morning."
"Right," he agreed, his head nodding like a bobblehead.
She punched him, hard in the shoulder that wasn't carrying his book. It hurt more than it hurt him. She wanted to hit him again but knew it wouldn't do anything more than further injure her hand. "You will tell me everything from now on," she demanded.
"Right."
That settled it for the night. Near the end of dinner, Mr. Weasley came in with Bill and Charlie. The stout Weasley looked terrible but he had a smile as his mother swept him into a fierce hug. "Did you hit him for me?" Ginny whispered as everyone got up to check on Charlie.
"Why?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow. She watched as the twins look their brother over and declare him fit for going back to wrangling dragons with his bare hands.
"Because he deserves it," the firey redhead stated with queenly poise. It made Hermione want to giggle. She had a feeling why Ginny wanted to hit Harry.
Once everyone greeted, hugged, and told Charlie they were happy to see him, Mr. Weasley took his place at the opposite end of the table from Sirius. "I have some good news," he announced. His words cut off all the other conversations in the room. "Bill will not be charged for defending his family," he stated while rolling his eyes.
"I'd like to see them try," Ron grumbled as he rubbed his chest.
"On Thursday, you all will go back to Hogwarts. Until then, Sirius and I have spoken about staying here until then. Remus has agreed to continue your magical studies, if you so wish, until then. As a whole, we will stay here and not venture out until it is time to go to King's Cross. As you might imagine, Ron and Charlie's experience at the Cup is garnering a lot of attention. Harry, yours, Neville, and Sirius' encounter has gained the attention of the wider Wizarding World. Neville, your grandmother is coming back from France tonight. We just got word to her yesterday."
Neville seemed to wilt in his chair. "What did she say?" he asked in a quiet voice.
"That she was proud of you," Mr. Weasley answered with a fatherly smile. "You are welcome to stay with us until the semester starts. However, I suspect your grandmother will want to take you home."
"I want to say," the round-faced boy muttered morosely.
"What is Fudge saying about the Cup?" Harry asked.
Mr. Weasley took a deep breath and shared a complicated glance at Bill. "He hasn't commented," he admitted. "The Wizarding World is in an uproar, with Great Brittian in the center of it. Albus is trying to play mediator, but being a British wizard, well... things are tense. Once you get back to Hogwarts, each of you needs to expect some amount of questioning," he said with a meaningful look at Harry. "I know all of you have kept up with the Daily Prophet articles, but the truth is, they are pointing fingers any anyone and everyone who could have been involved."
"So, Sirius and Harry," Ginny hissed.
"Their names have come up a few times, yes," Mr. Weasley agreed as he rubbed the bald spot on the top of his head. "There is... another matter," he continued as his eyes searched his wife's face. He stayed silent for a moment before Mrs. Weasley gave the slightest nod. "There will be changes at Hogwarts this year. Closer scrutiny into the school itself. On top of everything else going on, all of you will need to be aware of what you are doing. I can't stress this enough. Do not get into trouble. That goes for all of you," he stated with a sharp tone directed toward the twins.
"Why?" Hermione found herself asking aloud before she could think.
Mrs. Weasley gave her a strained smile. "Once you get to Hogwarts, you'll find out the big surprise, which we won't spoil before then," she said with a glare toward her husband and Sirius of all people. Hermione thought the cat was already among the flowers, but she wasn't about to tell Mrs. Weasley. "The events after the Cup have sparked public outcry against anyone thought to be practicing Dark Magics, no matter their age."
Hermione thought she understood as she shared a look with Harry. His scarred face didn't give away his thoughts, but she thought she knew him enough to know he was livid. The adults were trying to protect him and asking the others to do the same.
"This isn't just for Harry's sake," Sirius interrupted as he crossed his arms. He leaned into the doorframe to the kitchen. "Arthur is in hot water too. The Ministry has a history of ill-using the Weasleys. From Ron's attack by the Ministry-led Dementors to this recent debacle at the Cup. In the eyes of the public, Arthur is a high-ranking ministry official. Everything he and his family do is subject to scrutiny."
That made everyone stare at Mr. Weasley. "I'm not as worried about my position, but Sirius has the right of it. I've already been warned to toe the line. Barty Crouch is sending orders by owl to the office. Percy is handing things for the Department of International Magical Cooperation rather well, considering the flood of owls coming in and out of the office." Mrs. Weasley gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Until things at the Ministry stabilize and the general population has calmer heads, it is better to stay out of the cauldron."
"The greater wizarding world has problems enough of their own that, in a few month's time, much of the Wizarding World will be focused on other issues," Remus stated. He nodded to Charlie. "Other events will keep the general focus and attention away from this tragedy too."
"What are they saying about the Death Eaters?" Harry asked.
"Officially, that it was a dark wizard that used the match as a means to get back at the Ministry," Mr. Weasley answered with a grimace. "Singular. The one that cast the Fiendfyre. Two Aurors are still in St. Mungos from the fiasco near the woods. One is unlikely to survive."
"Arthur," Mrs. Weasley warned with a glance toward Ginny.
"Sorry," he muttered and blew out a breath. "It's been a trying day. Tomorrow, a delegation from Bulgaria and Romania is meeting with Fudge, and I'm supposed to attend. Sorry, sorry," he muttered as he tried to marshal his thoughts. "I just want to say how proud I am of all of you. Each of you did your best during the escape, sometimes even helping strangers. Neville, Hermione, you're both welcome over at any time, like Harry is. If you'd like someone to be with you when you explain what happened last night, I'd be honored to talk with your grandmother, Neville."
The round-faced boy winced before nodding. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley. I think that might be a good idea."
"That's settled," Mrs. Weasley announced with a forced smile. "Pie anyone?"
Neville went home with Augusta Longbottom that night after a lengthy conversation behind closed doors with all the adults present. Her friend looked resigned to his fate as he gave everyone hugs and promised to see them on the Hogwarts Express in a few days. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wouldn't talk about what they discussed with the matriarch of the Longbottom family. Whatever it was deeply troubled them.
The next few days flew by as Thursday drew closer and closer. To stave off boredom and to keep the twins occupied, Lupin held a non-magical class in the downstairs drawing-room for most of the day. He just stayed in the room, except around mealtimes, and answered any questions posed to him. Harry wanted to practice his magic, but Sirius told him to hold off until they were back at Hogwarts. It was obvious her friend didn't like the command but understood it.
The adults, minus Mrs. Weasley, Charlie, and Lupin stayed at the residence. Mr. Weasley and Sirius spent most of their time dealing with Ministry inquiries and fending off the Daily Prophet reporters. Bill didn't say where he spent his days, but she had a feeling it had to do with whatever scheme Harry and the twins were working on. Harry flat-out refused to tell her anything on the grounds that it wasn't his place to say.
"Hermione, let's go over your notes on Switching Spells again," Lupin said as he flipped through a massive tome on the coffee table. "Holding two images in your mind is one way to do it, but this way might be simpler and faster for you," he coached as he tapped a paragraph in the middle of the page.
One-on-one instruction with her ex-professor showed her just how much she didn't know about subjects she thought that she'd mastered. Remus knew little nuances and tips that made each subject easier to understand or perform. It infuriated her to know Harry had an entire summer to work with the professor.
"I still don't get why Imps are considered dangerous by the Ministry. The last reported death with one was over fifty years ago," Ron complained. "These things are just pranksters."
Lupin turned to Ron with a genuine smile. "They are devilish little creatures, true. However, at one time, they were used in the Goblin Wars to great effect. Think, if they used lethal projectiles or traps, then how many people might get hurt or killed? The classification is true enough, even if the imps we know of today aren't as malevolent as their distant cousins, the pixie."
"I see why pixies are dangerous. Lockhart learned that one too," the redhead laughed. "I just think it could be argued that imps aren't a two X classification anymore."
"Put that down in your answer, but just remember, the classifications are there for potential harm, not their current attitude."
"Blimey, I can't believe I'm doing schoolwork before I'm even back in school."
"I promised we'd play a little wizard chess in a bit," Harry called from the other side of the room. He'd been fiddling around with potion ingredients and didn't want to stain Sirius' furniture.
"I know, I know," Ron mumbled as he wrote out another paragraph.
Ginny shot Hermione a smirk before going back to her essay on the Reductor Curse. Harry talked about how infatuated the fiery redhead was with the spell. "You could change clothes with a wave of your wand," Hermione commented as she perused the faded text in front of her.
"Ah, the secret is out," Lupin joked with a wink. He drew his light brown wand and concentrated. One wave of his wand later, he sat in the patched jacket and robes that he'd worn while teaching at Hogwarts.
"Interesting," Harry said as he made his way over to the table to sit beside her. "I never considered the possibilities of that bit of Transfiguration. It's like Vanishing or Conjuring an object, but instead, it's just switching. Fascinating," he continued with a far-away look in his eye. His hand came up, his wand magically appearing between his fingers, when Lupin coughed.
"Harry," he warned.
"Oh, sorry, professor."
"I understand all too well. Wait to experiment until you're at school," Remus reminded him with a smile. "For now, write down all your ideas and things you want to test. I did that in many of my classes when waving my wand around might have gotten me into trouble. We'll go over your ideas once you've done so I can tell you what might or might not work," he suggested.
On Wednesday night, Mrs. Weasley cooked a feast that could feed a small army. She directed Hermione and Ginny through a seemingly endless list of ingredients and tasks to help her prepare. At first, Hermione wasn't happy Ginny volunteered her to help, but after a while, she enjoyed using the simple spells Mrs. Weasley showed them. For one, she could use magic while the boys couldn't, and for another, it gave her a sense of pride to see her hard work form into a delicious dish. She enjoyed the challenge of using magic in ways she'd never considered before.
"This is wonderful," Mr. Weasley praised as he dug into his helping of mixed greens.
"Thank you, Dad," Ginny beamed as she eyed Harry across the table.
Hermione wasn't sure what was going on with Harry. Over the last few days, he'd become more withdrawn. Oh, he still engaged everyone in conversation, and sparks of excitement lit up his face at the prospect of learning something new, but her friend looked down. She kept meaning to talk to him privately, but whenever she had a rare moment alone with him, he'd always ask her a good question that made her temporarily forget her worries.
"Harry, do you have a moment?" she asked as everyone filed out of the dining room.
Her friend blinked twice before his eyes refocused on her face. "Sorry, I was thinking," he mumbled. His eyes slid out of focus again for a brief moment before he shot her a smirk. "A lot has been on my mind. Professor McGonagall said she might not be able to get me into the classes I want."
Hermione wasn't sure that was the whole reason Harry was acting strange. "I saw you reading a letter earlier, but Professor Lupin... oh, you have me calling him professor again too," she complained with a snort. "Anyway, I saw you fiddling with a letter. What did she say?" If she could get him to open up a little, she might be able to figure out what was really bothering him.
"It is a technicality, but she put in my choices at the end of the last semester to sit Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Apparently, if I switched courses, it might look strange. She didn't give me a real reason, but my bet is on the Ministry's involvement. I have a sinking feeling that they're taking an unhealthy interest in my... development."
She breathed out and eyed her friend. "What's really going on?" she pried as the others moved farther down the hall. Sirius glanced back at them standing in the doorway.
"I don't want to go," Harry admitted a moment later. "I just can't shake this feeling that it will be a terrible year."
"That's just silly," she scoffed in a tone she hoped sounded convincing.
"I'm serious," Harry countered. "The way the Daily Prophet is spinning things. I just can't see the other students welcoming me back. Added to the fact that I'm going to miss lessons with Professor Lupin, Sirius, and the freedom to work on whatever I want. There is no reason for me to go back. I'm not going to sit the O.W.L.s or the N.E.W.T.s for the Ministry. They already said I'll never get a job with them, not that I want it, and they made it clear I may never work in Britain if they have anything to say about it. Why should I care?"
"You prat," Hermione hissed as she slapped him on the arm. She scolded herself for acting rashly. "Listen to me," she tried again, this time in a lower voice. "It might suck to go back. You won't be able to do whatever you want. Bully you. However, you'll have me, the library, and all the professors trying to cram as much knowledge down your throat that you'll be lucky if you don't choke. I need you there," she finished with a glare when he shook his head at her arguments.
"Listen," he tried to get out.
"No, you listen," she said and stopped in front of him. She stared into his green eyes as she spoke. "Stop and think. If you dropped out of Hogwarts, how long will it take for Fudge to try and come down on you and Sirius? Think! If you stay in school, no matter how bad you think it might be, then you can at least learn what you want without too much interference. I know that you wanted to leave so I talked to Mr. Tonks about it some over the summer. Home-schooling is closely controlled by the Ministry. You'd basically be giving up your wand if you let them decide what you could or couldn't learn."
Harry's face scrunched up as if he'd bitten into a lemon. "I hadn't considered that," he mused. "What if I just left? Went to another country?"
"Can you really do that? In one day, could you plan an entire life? Even if Sirius helped you do whatever you wanted. Do you want to take a chance of something going wrong and losing the ability to use magic for almost an entire year? Think, Harry. Take this year to plan, like the twins are. Don't give me that look. I talk with Ginny, and she'll tell me what she thinks is going on with them. I'm your friend. I don't want to see you leave for parts unknown, but I also don't want you to make a bone-headed decision."
"Thanks," he grumbled, but she could tell his heart wasn't in it. "Sirius said something similar recently. I just... Hermione, he is coming, and I'm going to just sit at Hogwarts like nothing is wrong."
"Who said anything about sitting around and doing nothing? Isn't Hogwarts the best place to learn how to defend yourself?" she challenged. It was hard to tell, but she thought this might be the real reason Harry was so withdrawn. He was scared. She couldn't blame him. "Harry, no matter what, you know I'll be there to help you. So will Neville and Ron. This isn't something you'll have to deal with alone," she promised as she glanced up the hallway to where Mrs. Weasley and Sirius stood talking in low voices. "I think... it will be something everyone will have to help with before the end."
