AN: I do not own Harry Potter.
Sorry about the wait. My profile has a tentative schedule for posting the rest of the book. Hopefully, I'll be able to deliver.
Chapter 15: S.P.E.W.
Hermione rubbed her eyes again and tried to read the tiny print on the parchment. She felt like every time she tried to focus, the letters would shrink or go fuzzy. The quiet crackling fire in the Common Room lulled her into a stupor as she fought to concentrate. A small commotion made her look up. Several first and second years gasped as Harry entered the room and looked around. He looked tired, withdrawn, and surly. She wondered how late he'd stayed up.
"Morning," he greeted with a strained smile as he took a seat at the small table.
"Morning," she answered with a barely concealed jaw-wracking yawn. Her eyes slipped from Harry's face and fell to the book on the table. "You didn't rest well."
"It looks like I wasn't the only one," he snorted.
A spike of anger surged through her as she glared up at him. It wasn't her fault that her body hated her. Wizards would never understand. She huffed and tried to go back to reading. If she could just ignore what was going on, she might be able to get through the next few days. A moment of despair washed over her when she realized she'd have to go through this every month for years to come.
"Egritudus," she heard Harry mutter. A moment later, to her horror, she felt something feather-light brush against her being.
"How dare you!" she exploded when she realized what Harry had done. He looked at her, wide-eyed.
"Sorry, I just," he tried to say.
"You used the Diagnose Spell," she hissed, trying not to draw the attention of the entire Common Room. Too many eyes were on them for comfort. It made make her angrier.
"Sorry," he repeated, his eyes still wide.
Hermione knew he must have known or seen what was wrong with her. In her body. She wanted to curse him into a puddle. It was her body, and he just violated her with his magic. Without asking! "Leave," she hissed again. "I don't want to deal with this right now."
Harry nodded, his eyes going distant as he rose. "Sorry, I... sorry," he muttered as he moved off toward the boy's dormitories.
Hermione sighed and sat back in her chair. The righteous anger bled out of her as she thought over what had happened. Harry was trying to figure out what was wrong. He cared but went about it the wrong way. An uncomfortable feeling washed over her as she imagined what he might have seen through the spell. There was a lot Harry wasn't telling her recently, and it worried her. He was withdrawn and distant. Harry put on a mask that fooled most people, but she and Ginny noticed, and talked.
"He seemed sorry," a quiet voice said as Ginny slid into the chair Harry vacated a moment before. "You're a little stressed," she whispered with a glance toward Hermonie's stomach.
"This. isn't. fun."
"No, I imagine it won't be."
"I'll talk to him later," Hermione dismissed as she tried to focus on the book about house-elves again.
"Ron said he caught Harry drinking another Wideye Potion."
Hermione paused and looked up at her friend. Ginny's expression was complex. Hermione couldn't say for sure the range of feelings her friend felt, but chief among those emotions was worry, or fear. "He is a prat, but he knows the dangers."
"I know," Ginny whispered as she looked back at Hermione. "I... might have asked around, using myself as an example," she quickly added in a rush. "About... you know. What to do."
"I know what to do," Hermione sighed. "It's a natural part of being a witch."
"Yeah, but you could go to Madam Pomfrey."
"No, I'll be perfectly fine, thank you," Hermione answered, her tone more clipped than she'd intended. Ginny winced but nodded. "How is your Potion's homework?" she asked, as a way to get them off the annoying subject.
"Oh, I finished it last night before bed. It didn't take too long."
"Morning," Ron greeted as he stumbled over to the armchair nearest to the table. He grumbled and pulled a lumpy pillow from behind his back. "How did everyone sleep?"
It took all her willpower not to throw something at him. Ginny gave him a withering look. "We slept fine, thank you. Why don't you run off and do something else today, Ron. We'd like some alone time," she half-suggested, half-ordered.
"Blimey, you sound friendly," Ron grumbled and levered himself off the chair. "Harry was in a mood too. Must be something in the air... like no Quidditch," he grumped and stalked off toward the portrait hole.
"He was fine," Hermione sighed.
"He would have annoyed both of us. You know what's best for your body, but give it a thought. Angelina said Madam..."
"I'm fine, thank you, Ginny."
The bright Saturday morning passed with no sign of Harry, Ron, or Neville. She wondered if one of the boys told the others to make themselves scarce. Hermione wanted to ask Harry a few questions about her findings but admitted to herself that it might be better to have a mental relaxation day from the boys. Ginny kept her company and worked on a long list of flashcard topics and answers. They didn't speak, each engrossed in their own studies.
At lunch, Hermione found Harry and Ron in the Great Hall, eating and talking in low voices. She studied the pair as she approached. Harry looked more alert and in a better mood than she'd last seen. "How are you two?" she greeted as she took the closest seat by Ron.
Harry looked up, his expression guarded. "We're okay," he answered slowly. "Sorry again," he tried to say but she waved his apology off. The last thing she wanted to think about was whatever Harry might have seen. The meer thought made her angry again.
"It's fine," she lied. "I have a few..." she started to say before trailing off. Harry sat a squat glass bottle on the table in front of her. The potion had a pinkish hue with silvery and brown swirls slowly moving through viscous liquid. "What is this?"
"An apology," Harry answered before he went back to eating.
Hermione took the potion bottle and corked the stopper. The potion smelled flowery with a hint of chocolate. "What is it?" she frowned, trying to place the smell, viscosity of the liquid, and colorings to the various recipes she knew.
"For... your problem," Harry hesitated. "It'll help."
Hermione blinked first at the bottle and then at Harry. She felt her face going red from embarrassment and anger. "How... dare... you," she hissed, her anger overriding her judgment.
"I was..."
"Harry, leave," Ginny demanded as she took Hermione's arm. It took a moment for Hermione to realize she'd drawn her wand. Harry noticed too, his eyes wide. She immediately felt terrible, worse than she'd felt all day. Without another word, Harry got up and left. Ron looked back and forth between Hermione, Ginny, and Harry's retreating back.
"What?" he started to ask.
"Drop it. Or, leave with him," Ginny prompted as she gently patted Hermione trembling arm.
Tears welled in Hermione's eyes as she looked down at the potion shaking in her hand. She didn't stop to think and downed the silky-smooth potion in one go. She'd talk with Harry... when she was feeling more like herself. Loud, animated conversations all over the Great Hall drew her attention away from her current problems.
"What has everyone worked up?" Ginny mused as she too seemed to realize the mood around her.
Ron grunted but ignored them. He attacked his breakfast as if it had somehow wronged him. "Ron?" Hermione gently asked. "What?" he spat.
"Now, listen here," Ginny started to say but Hermione shook her head.
"Sorry, we snapped at you. Do you know what's going on?"
Ron eyed them with a sour expression. "Harry didn't tell me what happened between you two, but he was sorry," he trailed off with a deepening frown. "Everyone is talking about Professor Moody's Dueling Club starting on Tuesdays and Thursdays, an hour after classes end."
Hermione let the news wash over her and looked around. "Everyone is excited about this?"
"Professor Moody is the best dark wizard catcher of the age. Half the cells in Azkaban were filled by him alone," one of the twins answered by way of greeting as he took Harry's vacated place. "Afternoon," the other twin greeted.
After lunch, Ginny led Hermione to the study classroom. Hermione was already feeling better and wasn't sure if it was because of Harry's potion or if eating and talking to people helped. At the end of the corridor, Ginny stopped and turned around to face her. "What actually happened this morning?" she questioned in a low voice as she looked around.
Hermione too made sure the corridor was empty. "Harry... well, you know what I'm going through. He... used a Diagnosis Spell on me without asking. I... well..." she managed to get out.
Ginny's eyes went wide as her eyes slowly fell to Hermione's middle. Her face turned red. "He... saw... everything?" she whispered, her face now radiating like a small sun, brighter than even her hair.
"I... don't know," Hermione admitted, a flush in her cheeks. She did NOT want to think about whatever Harry might have seen. It was her body and she did not permit him to go snooping around, even magically, with it. She wouldn't have agreed anyway. Probably.
"R... right," Ginny stuttered. "He shouldn't have done that," she said before spinning around, wobbling a little, and striding off toward the classroom.
Hermione wondered what was going through the young witch's mind, but decided not to inquire further. Some things, she could live without knowing. Harry was not inside, waiting on them, but Romilda Vain and Susan Bones were. The two were working on Transfiguration homework. Hermione wondered if Susan was tutoring the younger Gryfindor but didn't ask as Ginny led her toward the back table.
Ron, Neville, Zoe, Angelina, and Alicia all came and went as Hermione read through House-elves: A Magical History. Every time the door opened, she expected to see Harry and was disappointed he hadn't appeared. They had things to talk about, and it wasn't just about what happened that morning. She itched to ask him the notes he'd prepared for their discussion on house-elf rights. They'd been working on that for a week and today was the day they would both sit down and discuss what they'd found and compare notes. She felt loads better than she had that morning and now his absence was a constant reminder of what transpired.
"Did you hear?" Colin Creevy said to his brother and Luna Lovegood. Hermione's ears pricked up as she subtly glanced at the next table over. "Fred and George opened up a joke shop, right here in the castle. They're selling sweets, things that will prank people, and... Harry Potter's enchanted cards for each subject," Colin confided with a smile that threatened to split his face. "I heard about them from the older students. Oh, boy, I'm going to ask mum and dad if they'll let me buy a set."
"Really!" Dennis gasped. "His personal flashcards? ...what do they do?" he asked, trailing off with a puzzled expression.
"Help you study," Luna supplied with a far-away look. "He enchants them to help whisk away Wracksputs around you."
Hermione held in her derision. There was no such thing as a Wracksput. Loony Lovegood was just that, loony. The blonde's theories about invisible creatures that unfocused and confused witches and wizards' brains were preposterous. She looked over at Ginny who had a knowing look in her eye. "You know something?" Hermione asked.
Ginny shrugged and flicked her eyes at the group near them. "A little," she admitted. When Hermione urged her on with a nod, the redhead relented. "The twins... and Harry, have worked hard over the summer to come up with a wide range of things the other students might like. As Colin said, sweets, toffees, little cakes, and potions were things they experimented on. I think the twins are going to hold off on the sweets that allow the students can skive off class. At some point, Harry added a few things of his own, like his flashcards."
"That... is impressive. I assume they got help?"
"Oh, well, I don't know," Ginny said, but Hermione wasn't sure her friend was telling the truth. "I just know they worked hard and focused on making things as affordable as possible."
"The twins have plans for the future and the next few years will help them achieve that," Harry said by way of greeting as he pulled out a chair.
Hermione jumped, not having realized Harry entered the room. "We were supposed to talk about the house-elves," she chided as her eyes flicked over his face. He looked exhausted. She wondered what he'd been up to, but more pressing issues needed to be discussed.
"Wasn't sure you wanted to see me today," Harry answered as he shifted in his chair and drew his wand. He focused, she could tell as his eyes seemed to fixate on some distant point only he could see. It was a familiar, comforting look on him that seemed to drain the exhaustion away. Seconds later, a stack of parchments lay on the table in front of him. "Right, where do you want to start?"
Hermione continued to stare at his face. She wasn't sure what was wrong, but it was an intuitive thing, a feeling in the back of her mind, or an itch under her skin. It took her a moment to realize she was staring at him and sat straighter, gathering up her parchments into a pile. "We'll start with why it's important we save the house-elves from slavery. What did you find?" she prompted.
Harry stared at her. Hermione wasn't sure what was going on. He seemed... conflicted. His hands flexed as he held his wand as if he were fighting something she couldn't see. The silence stretched on to the point that even Ginny had stopped writing and watched Harry. The redhead's eyes narrowed as she studied the boy she liked. "I... think... no. It needs to be this way," Harry finally said in a low voice Hermione almost couldn't hear. He waved his wand and the parchments in front of him disappeared. She was about to say something when a large pile of paper appeared in front of him.
"What?" she asked.
Harry didn't answer and picked up the first page. "House-elves should not be free because of the parasitic way they latch onto wizards. If they were free, they could steal a wizard's magic," he said in a flat tone.
Hermione felt her head rock back as her vision swam. What was Harry playing at? He agreed with her! He said they should be free. Was it because she told him to leave? What was he doing? Ginny looked just as poleaxed as Hermione felt. "What... are you talking about?" she managed to get out.
"In 1690, the Wizards' Council deemed house-elves to be a danger to the wider wizarding community if left unmanaged. Since then, there have been fifty-seven high-profile cases related to misactions taken by house-elves against wizards. See Historical Events of the 1700s and Misanthropic Species of the World."
Hermione clenched her fists, her anger rising. "You agreed with me!" she shouted. Harry continued as if she weren't even there.
"Famous witches and wizards have been murdered by their house-elves when it was declared their hold over the subspecies wained. Notable among these witches and wizards are Hepzibah Smith, a pillar of the wizarding community, who was poisoned by her house-elf Hokey. The house-elf, executed for the murder, also stole a precious artifact of Smith's, further demonstrating a..."
"Harry, stop," Hermione demanded.
"Along with Smith, Gregor Imriov was murdered by his house-elf when..."
"I said, stop," Hermione demanded as she slammed her hand on the table. Harry stopped and looked up at her. His eyes were dull, hard even. She shivered. "What are you playing at?" she demanded.
"I am, as I said, telling you why house-elves should not be freed," he answered in a bored tone.
"Why?" Ginny whispered. Hermione knew all eyes in the room were on their table now.
"Because she needs to hear this," Harry answered slowly. He straightened his shoulders and looked back down at his notes.
"No. If you aren't going to help, leave," Hermione instructed. She felt like she was saying that a lot today. Harry looked up at her and something passed over his face. It was gone as quickly as it'd appeared, but Hermione thought it was sadness. His mask was back on, so she couldn't be sure.
"I am helping," Harry stated, but he vanished the notes and stood. The sound of his chair moving across the flagstones echoed around the silent classroom.
"No, you aren't. You're just trying to get back at her," Ginny huffed.
"No... I am not," Harry stated evenly. Hermione believed him. She wasn't sure what was going on, but he thought he was helping her. As he turned to leave, Hermione raised her arm to catch his sleeve but her hand froze, unable to complete the action. Her voice caught when she tried to call after him. She was missing something, but couldn't figure out what. At the door, Harry turned and paused before drawing his wand. Hermione felt her heart flutter at the look on his face. It wasn't anger, just... exhaustion. The notes reappeared where he'd been sitting. Harry nodded and left without another word.
"That... what was he playing at?" Ginny hissed.
Neville rose and walked over to the table, picking up the parchments Harry left. His eyes flicked over the notes as a frown creased his brow. He closed his eyes and set the notes down before going back to his table. Everyone watched him. Zoe leaned over and whispered something to Neville when he got reseated but he shook his head and went back to scribbling on his parchment.
"Well..." Hermione sighed.
"I'll read it over. Maybe he was doing this as a prank," Ginny said as she took the chair Harry vacated. Hermione didn't think so but for the life of her, she couldn't understand what Harry was trying to do.
That night, Harry didn't return to the Common Room, or if he did, she missed him. It was possible he'd snuck into the Boy's Dormitory under the cloak, but neither Ron nor Neville had seen him. Ginny was upset with Harry. She got halfway through his notes before stalking off to the Girl's Dormitory to go to bed. Angry didn't even come close to describing her ire toward her crush. The problem was that Ginny wouldn't even explain why she was angry so Hermione could understand. With no other option, Hermione picked up Harry's notes and began to read.
The next morning, Hermione felt horrible. Her body hated her, her mind felt confused and jumbled with all that Harry wrote, and she just wanted to lay in bed and cry. She hoped a good cry might help because nothing else she tried was working.
When she managed to drag her miserable body out of bed and get down to the Common Room, she found Harry waiting for her, sitting in the same place he'd cast the Diagnosis Spell on her. A pulse of anger and hurt coursed through her as she stalked over to him. "What are you playing at? Writing all that!" she hissed.
Harry looked up from staring at the floor. His eyes look... haunted. They weren't tired, just hollow. "Good morning," he greeted as if nothing happened the previous day. "I have four things for you," he said and waved to a small leather bag, a bottle with a familiar liquid in it, and two letters. "If you'd like to understand why, find me in a few hours. I have an appointment with Professor Moody," he said before rising.
Hermione looked between him and the bottle on the table. She wanted to scream. He left before she could vent her frustration. Snatching up the bottle she made to throw it but a hand, strong and calloused caught her wrist. "Easy, Granger," a soft, feminine voice said. Startled, Hermione spun to see Alicia Spinnet looking down at her. They were almost the same height but Hermione could see the whip-corded muscle of the older Gryfindor's forearms. "It will help," she whispered.
"Does everyone know?" she hissed.
"No, but I know what you're going through. Madam Pomfrey has a potion that looks just like this one. I wish I had a friend who would have pointed me in her direction when mine first started. Listen, Cheering Charms only go so far. Don't throw out a perfectly reasonable solution to many of your problems, okay?" the older witch suggested before releasing Hermione's arm. Without another word, Alicia turned and walked toward the portrait hole as if nothing had happened.
Hermione noticed a few people giving her curious stares but they went back to whatever they were doing when they met her eye. She huffed and snatched up the letters and bag before going back up to her room. Once safely on her bed, she drew the curtains and looked in the bag. Two vials of a liquid, several crushed daisies, and four pieces of chocolate lay within. She frowned and opened the first letter that had 'First' written on it:
Hermione,
Since you wouldn't let me apologize yesterday, I am sorry for my actions. I thought I would be able to tell what was ailing you with the Diagnosis Spell. I was right and wrong. As Madam Pomfrey told me, I invaded your privacy and the right you have to your body. I should have asked and waited for you to give me permission to look. A witch's body is her own, and so is a wizard's for that matter, but your body is your own and I accidentally violated that. It wasn't my intention, but all the same, I did.
In hopes of helping and apologizing, I brewed the Moon-time Potion from A Simple Guide to Household Injuries And Maladies For A Prospective Bride-to-Be by Philippa Lyttleburye. Madam Pomfrey explains that it is an older form of the potion she gives out freely to any witch or wizard who needs the potion. The second letter is the recipe for you to brew yourself so no one has to know. Within the bag is simply a small collection of ingredients you will need if you choose this route. Madam Pomfrey also provides the ingredients, but at a small cost.
I apologize for my indelicate way of trying to help and promise not to do it again. I will not apologize for my action in the study classroom. It will help you in the long run. I understand you are angry with me and do not blame you, as that was part of the reason I chose to do what I did.
Your friend,
Harry
Hermoine frowned and let the letter drop to her covers. She opened the second envelope and found, as Harry said, two sets of recipes. One he labeled as his and the other as Madam Pomfrey's. She found the brewing methods, times, and potion-life about the same. After close inspection, she realized the bottle she had matched the recipe from Madam Pomfrey. She sighed and drank the potion. It... surprisingly wasn't as good as Harry's version.
Harry was not at breakfast when she got there but Ron and Neville said he'd already eaten and left for the study classroom. Eager to get to the bottom of Harry's actions, Hermione ate and took off to meet him. However, when she got there, no one was in. She remembered he said he had an appointment with Professor Moody, but thought that was before breakfast. Not wanting to chase him around the school, she went to the Library to look into a few of the books Harry's notes referenced.
"Ms. Granger?" a soft voice called a little later. Hermione blinked and looked up from the blatantly bigotted book. Madam Poppy Pomfrey, the school healer stood at the end of her table.
"Yes?"
"Would you follow me for a moment? I wish to speak to you about a certain... issue," the older witch said, her tone a mix of feelings. Hermione wasn't sure if what the healer said was an order or not. She rose with a nod and followed Madam Pomfrey into the hallway. After a wave of her wand, the sound around them dimmed to next to nothing. "I was approached by someone you know. He admitted he did something wrong and provided you with a potion from an old text that I'm not sure should be in circulation anymore. However, I wish to ask if you took the potion and if you are experiencing any strange symptoms."
Hermione blinked. "You mean the Moon-time Potion?" she asked, her cheeks flushing.
"He told you what it was then? Good. I... had words with our mutual acquaintance. He was most apologetic," the healer said. Her tone didn't match her wording. She was still angry with Harry.
"I did drink it," Hermione answered.
"How did you feel yesterday? Nauseous? Dizzy? Any lingering aftertastes?"
Hermione thought back. She shook her head. "No, I felt fine, almost back to normal within a few hours," she muttered.
"I know this is a delicate subject, but did you take care of the other issue involved?"
Hermione blinked, trying to understand the question. It took her a moment to realize what Madam Pomfrey was talking about. "Oh... I uh... have something my mother gave me," she muttered, heat rising in her cheeks.
"I thought as much. Here, this may be an... alternative to your more mundane solution," Madam Pomfrey said as she passed a slip of parchment to her. "A spell that will help with... well. Do you have any questions?" Hermione found she couldn't speak. She felt mortified. "You'll be happy to know that our... acquaintance is on a detention of sorts for his invasive use of magic. They readily accepted my chastisement and punishment. If you have any issues, please come to me. I provide everything for free except for the ingredients to brew your own potion. There should be nothing that stands in the way of learning, even the unfortunate events our bodies force us through."
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione managed to get out.
"Think nothing of it, dear," the healer said as she turned.
An idea popped into her mind. "Ah, Madam Pomfrey," she got out. When the healer turned and raised both eyebrows, Hermione continued, "does this potion work on... Muggles?"
It took a moment for the healer to realize what she meant. "There is no problem with every female taking this potion. However, I would stress that no one should learn about it. Understand?"
"Yes, perfectly. Thank you."
Hermione didn't talk much at lunch and Harry wasn't there to question. The news of Fred and George's joke shop seemed to have spread as several Gryffindors talked about the various sweets they'd bought and tried. Ginny didn't speak much as she idly played with her food. Hermione didn't try to pry into whatever her friend was thinking through.
It was when Neville glanced at her that she remembered his odd reaction to Harry's notes the day before. She'd been so wrapped up in her own issues that she forgot to ask him what he thought. "Neville," she said to try and get his attention.
The round-faced wizard looked up from his half-eaten plate, his eyebrows rising. "Uh, yes?"
"Yesterday, you saw Harry's notes," she started but something in Neville's expression stopped her from continuing.
"Yes, I did."
"Is... something wrong?"
"I don't know if it's my place to say, Hermione."
"What... do you mean?"
Neville sat back and crossed his arms. "First, it's between you and Harry. You two have argued before but never have you completely dismissed him. You basically threw him out because he was reading something you didn't like," he answered with a small shrug.
Hermione blinked. She'd done that? She had, hadn't she. The events of the previous day just rolled up into one problem after another. "I... guess so," she admitted reluctantly.
"Not only that, but you told him to leave every time you saw him. It's the talk of the tower. The powerhouse couple arguing."
Hermione spluttered. Powerhouse couple? Did people think of them like that? "I... hadn't realized," she managed to get out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ginny staring at Neville, her eyes wide.
"So, it really isn't my place to explain one way or another."
"I see."
"What do you mean powerhouse couple?" Ginny asked, her tone deceptively sweet. Hermione knew better. So did Neville from the awkward way he shifted on his seat.
"Listen, I'm just telling Hermione what others are saying. They are famous throughout the school and are always together. Before this year, I can't think of a time they were truly working on separate topics of study."
Hermione and Ginny shared a look. Had they been that bad? Did her friend think she fancied Harry? The small shake of Ginny's head spread relief through Hermione's body. "I'll be more aware of that in the future," she promised, more to Ginny than anything else. Again, the fiery redhead shook her head.
"Well... anyway, you two will work it out. You always have," Neville said before going back to his meal.
"But, you think you know what he was doing?" Hermione pressed.
"Yes... and no. If he was doing what I think, then he went about it the wrong way. But... maybe it wasn't the wrong way from a certain perspective."
"What?"
"Never mind, just talk to him. He'll listen. He isn't unreasonable, you know."
Hermione had her chance to speak with Harry when she and Ginny made their way to the study classroom. He sat with his back to the wall, reading through three tomes. A Quick-Quotes-Quill scribbled away on one page while he marked something out on the parchment between the books. Hermione looked at her friend and wondered what he was working on and why he was acting like he was. "Harry," she greeted in a low voice as they approached.
The magical quill dropped to the table as Harry looked up, his eyes focusing on something only he could see. It was as if he were looking through her. "Ah, Hermione," he said as he set the quill in his hand down. He leaned back to look her and Ginny over. The silence stretched on to uncomfortable levels.
"Ah, I got your letters, and... Madam Pomfrey spoke to me," Hermione said as she slowly slid into a chair across from Harry. Ginny took the chair between them.
Harry nodded. "Not sure what she said, but she wasn't happy with me when I went to her about the problem. I knew I'd done wrong and, as my pseudo-teacher, she had the right to know I did the very thing she warned me against. I invaded your privacy without asking unless it was an emergency and it wasn't," he stated in a cool, if detached voice.
"Ah, that.. well... anyway. You're forgiven," she managed to get out. She couldn't bring herself to ask if he'd seen anything truly... invasive. There was no telling if she could ever forgive him if he had. It was better to ignore it all and move on to more pressing matters. "What... why... did you write all that stuff, Harry?" she managed to ask.
The dark-haired wizard leaned back in his chair, his green eyes flashing as he locked eyes with her. "It was something you needed to hear, and more. Do you think the Ministry will simply let you talk? Simply let your words sway the others in the Wizengamot, for that is who you have to convince. Nothing less will get the results we want. Every little thing you think of, someone will have an answer for. You are attempting to change an integral part of the wizarding community. Small steps like this, even something as simple as basic rights for house-elves will be a monumental uphill battle," he answered in a firm voice. "You aren't going to find a sympathetic ear. You aren't going to have a party to back you, you're a Muggleborn. You aren't going to have many of the privileges that older Senior Ministry Officials enjoy. All of this," he continued his hand waving across the books in front of him, "say why it's important to suppress and lord over anything not completely human. Do you understand why I'm looking at it from their perspective?"
Hermione felt as if Harry had pulled the rug from under her feet. Her head swam as she blinked tears from her eyes. "I... should quit then?" she managed to get out.
"I didn't say that, Hermione," Harry gently said as he sat forward. "I'm going to play the Goblin's Advocate, the devil's support as it were, and you will fight me every step of the way. If we can include people like Mr. Tonks to go over our work, then we might... might have a fighting chance of someone backing our case."
Ginny licked her lips and looked between them. Hermione saw her start to open her mouth before closing it again. A storm of emotions welled up inside of her as she tried to process what Harry was telling her. She knew, logically, that he was right, but it didn't feel right. He was supposed to be beside her the entire way. He was her partner, not her enemy. "Can't we... work together?" she whispered.
Harry frowned and scrubbed a hand through his mess of black hair. "Which do you think will produce better results?" he seemed to genuinely ask. "Working on the same ideas and focus on the same issues or do we try to find ways to out-argue one another? I gave it some thought and realized we think too much alike. Outside of our handwriting, I don't know if someone could tell the difference between us when it comes to taking notes or our approach to studying. We've got to beat centuries of examples of why house-elves must stay enslaved. Do you get what I'm trying to say?"
"So... to do that, you decided to... what? Create examples of why nothing should change? I don't see how that helps our case at all," Hermione argued.
"You've tutored under Mr. Tonks for a while, right? You remember how Buckbeak's trial went. You know what would have happened. How is this any different? Our approach didn't work. Buckbeak was sentenced to death," Harry almost growled. The anger in his voice made Hermione frown. Buckbeak, rechristened as Witherwings, was alive. What did it matter now? She understood. Had Dumbledore not stepped in, then Buckbeak would be dead. "We need to try to outthink hundreds of years of accepted wizarding traditions. Blimey, Hermione, they still use quills here at Hogwarts when fountain pens would work just as well. Speaking of which, I've been debating switching over to them. Might be easier to use too. Anyway, can you see where I'm coming from now?"
"Shouldn't you have... you know... told her?" Ginny questioned.
Hermione realized that the others in the room were listening to their conversation by the dead silence in the room. Luna, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, and Angelina Johnson all seemed to be waiting for Harry to answer.
"Maybe," Harry answered with a shrug. "However, just speaking about it wouldn't have the same impact it did. If Hermione can't answer the questions I posed to her, then how could she fight a losing battle? I have my notes that I'll take as I find questions to derail, discredit, or otherwise prevent Hermione from coming up with good arguments for the better treatment of house-elves. I'd been meaning to do this for a while, but the timing could have been better," he finished with a faint grimace.
"I..." Hermione started to say before trailing off. Would what he suggested work? Was it worth their time? She thought some of it was because she'd told Harry to leave and he was getting back at her, but if he was telling the truth, then he'd had this planned. She remember the first, small stack of parchments, that he'd conjured. "We can try," she eventually said. "However, could you at least be nicer about it?"
"No, that's one thing that I won't compromise on. The Wizengamot is a corrupt cesspool of jumped-up old fogies that want nothing more than to keep the status quo. I doubt even Amelia Bones will welcome something like this."
"He... may be right," Susan Bones said from the other side of the room. "Something like this will not be welcome in the current political climate."
"Then we need to make it welcome," Hermione said as she straightened her spine and stared at Harry. "Do your worst, Mr. Wizengamot."
"Oh, don't worry. I have plenty of experience with their methods," Harry answered with a smile Hermione didn't like.
"First, I'd like to name my faction the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, Mr. Wizengamot."
"Well... my job here is done then," Harry snorted. "No one is going to take S.P.E.W. seriously."
"I will make them take it seriously."
