News that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had started dating after five years of ignoring each other raced through the castle like Fiendfyre. The fact that neither Harry nor Hermione felt that they had agreed to more than a second visit to Hogsmeade just yet seemed not to matter to the rest of the student body.
Harry wasn't too upset by the uptick in whispers about him. Between having given up all hope that the students of Hogwarts would ever leave him alone and the fact that he was actually happy about the reason for the chatter, Harry was left fairly unperturbed by the whole situation.
He hadn't been able to tell Hermione as much when she came to him, nearly in tears because there were two groups of girls following her around. One group wanted to know everything from the type of underwear Harry wore to whether the rumours of certain birthmarks in various private places were true. The other had so far not done more than sneer and snip, but it was clear that they were not best pleased with the idea that someone other than them had gone on a date with the Boy Who Lived. Harry didn't know what he could do to help and just held Hermione in a hug until she assured him that she had recovered.
The next day, Harry tried to enlist some backup, just in case. After breakfast he managed to catch up with Ginny and Luna outside the Great Hall. "Gin! Luna! Hang on a sec!" he called out. The two girls turned around to let him run over. A third girl whose name Harry was having trouble remembering hung back as well with a red face and a tremulous smile.
"Hello, Harry. You seem to have a few Wrackspurts, though not as many as usual."
"Thanks, Luna," Harry said, "I guess it's because I have a little bit of a problem on my hands and I was hoping that you'd help me solve it?"
"Anything for you, Harry," Ginny said with a smile, moving some of her hair behind her ear. Next to her, her classmate squeaked something unintelligible and turned red.
"Great! Look, Hermione told me that some of the girls are starting to give her some dirty looks. I was hoping that I could ask the two of you to help me look out for her in the places a bloke can't go?"
"You want me to look after Hermione?" Ginny asked. There was something in her voice that Harry couldn't quite place.
Suddenly, I'm not so sure that this was a good idea. "Yeah. Just in the girls' loos or dorms. I'm not going to be able to back her up if I can't get up the stairs and what she described really worries me."
"Hermione's our friend, Harry. Of course we'll help," Luna said, as serious as Harry had ever heard her.
"Yeah. You can count on us," Ginny agreed, still with that strange note in her voice.
"Thanks, girls. That really means a lot," Harry said, feeling relief that there would be someone available to back Hermione up whenever he couldn't. "I guess we'd better get to class, but if there's ever anything I can do for you guys, just let me know."
"We already knew that, Harry," Luna answered with a happy laugh. "You're our friend too, remember?"
Harry couldn't help a laugh that escaped. "How could I possibly forget?" He gave the girls a wave and hurried off. The happy mood Luna had managed to instil in him evaporated when he caught up to Hermione a few corridors later and saw the way her shoulders were hunched as if she was already bracing for an incoming blow.
Years of experience helped him see the way most of the girls in the hallway looked at him as soon as he came into sight before half of them abruptly found somewhere else to be. The other half either stared intently at him or glared at Hermione. Ah, damn it. This even worse than every other time they thought we were dating.
Maybe because you are dating her this time, thicko his conscience sneered in the back of his mind. Harry took a deliberate breath, the way Dumbledore had taught him during their occlumency classes. "Hermione, wait up," he called out, hoping he wouldn't startle her too much.
Hermione's head jerked up and for just a moment, Harry could see the fear in her eyes. He was heartened to also see a wand in her hand. Guess she's not going to be taken by surprise he thought approvingly.
"Harry," she called back lightly. The forgotten years of their friendship helped Harry find the current of tension running under her happy tone. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be heading to your Transfiguration class?"
"I- I wanted to walk you to your Charms lesson with Professor Flitwick," Harry said, pulling his arm down sharply when he noticed that he was running his hand through his hair.
"That's sweet, Harry, but I wouldn't want you to be late," Hermione said, fond exasperation making her smile look a lot more natural, or at least a lot more familiar to Harry.
"I'll run really fast," Harry grinned back, unable to resist teasing her.
It seemed to work as Hermione actually laughed. "No. Now go before Professor McGonagall takes points from you for tardiness."
"I guess I'll have to wait until our study session this afternoon," Harry pouted.
With another laugh, Hermione gave his shoulder a push in the direction of the stairs. "I'll make sure you don't have to deal with a tardy student yourself, Professor," Hermione promised, sing-songing the last word.
Harry rolled his eyes at her, taking the opportunity to make sure that the crowd around them had thinned considerably. Harry hoped that it was because they realised that scaring Hermione wasn't going to make him want to spend less time with her, but suspected that it was probably more likely that Hermione had successfully reminded them that they were about to be late. He was about to turn around when Hermione's hand landed lightly on his wrist.
"Thank you, Harry. For coming looking for me," she murmured quietly, her eyes shining with unspoken emotions.
"Any time," Harry promised just as quietly. He studied her eyes for a moment longer before turning and sprinting down the corridor in an effort to avoid his Head of House's wrath.
Throughout his classes that day, Harry found himself distracted. Part of that was his worry and part of it was Lavender and Parvati's insistence on sitting right behind him and Ron and trying to get a juicy rumour out of him.
Ron just cast Harry a worried look every so often. "Everything alright?" Harry's best mate muttered as they were leaving Transfiguration to head down to Herbology. "You're mood's flipped right around from when we woke up this morning."
"Yeah, well this morning I hadn't realised that half the school would be gunning for Hermione."
"You mean the female half?" Ron asked, unable to keep a slight hint of amusement out of his voice.
"That's just most of the half," Harry muttered, remembering the way one of the Ravenclaw boys had been glaring at Hermione along with the girls.
Ron let out a snort of amusement. "The life of a celebrity," he said with a gallic shrug. "How's Hermione holding up?"
Harry returned with a shrug of his own. "Could be worse. I asked Ginny and Luna to help me keep an eye on her."
The smile slid from Ron's face. "You sure that was a good idea?"
"Any one of those bints who thinks about it for three minutes is going to realise that the easiest way to isolate Hermione is by going after her while she's in the loo or her dorm. Who else was I going to ask?"
"Yeah, but-…" Ron trailed off and shook his head. "Never mind. I'll ask Ginny as well; just in case."
"C'mon, you don't really think she'd hurt Hermione do you?" Harry asked, a little shocked at how cynical Ron was being about the idea.
Ron mulled it over. "Probably not if you've specifically asked her to help protect Hermione; not physically at least."
"Ron!" Harry protested, aghast.
"You can not have missed how my sister feels about you," Ron retorted.
"First off, she's dating Dean. Second, she's Hermione's friend. Third, that was back when she was eleven or something. I think she's grown out of it."
Ron just stared at Harry for a moment before shaking his head. "Hopeless, you are."
"You're joking."
"Wish I was, mate. Like I said though, I'll talk to her as well; just in case."
Harry could only trail after his friend, worrying that he made have made a colossal mistake. Be safe, Hermione.
:–:–:–:–:
I have to get to safety!
Hermione had gone to the toilet after her afternoon lesson with Professor Slughorn. All had seemed normal, until she exited the stall, intending to wash her hands and head up to the common room to get a head start on her homework.
The toilets had been empty when she arrived but were now filled to bursting with what appeared to be two dozen girls from all four houses and probably all of the upper years.
I didn't hear them come in. That means they must have used some kind of Silencing Charm to sneak in. If they snuck in, they probably aren't intending to just talk. Still, like Harry always says, the point is to not fight at all if you can help it. "Excuse me," Hermione said politely, trying to step past a girl she thought she recognised as Ginny's friend from the year below them.
The girl stepped into Hermione's path, blocking her way. "I don't think so, Granger."
Hermione met the other girl's gaze, hoping her own was unimpressed. "Is there a reason for me not to wash my hands after visiting the loo?"
"You know damn well that's not what we're here to talk about," another girl, this one with blue trim on her robes, snarled out.
"If you want to talk we can do that somewhere a little more comfortable," Hermione suggested politely, putting her hands on her hips. She hoped the girls around her wouldn't notice that her left pinkie and ring finger had slipped into her pocket and were working her wand into her hand.
"We'll be quick," a tall girl in yellow said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Stay away from Potter."
"No," Hermione said, proud of the way her voice didn't tremble.
"Then don't blame us for teaching you a lesson, you little swot," Ginny's friend shouted pulling out her wand only to find Hermione's own pointed between her eyes.
"That's enough!"
Hermione looked past the crowd of angry girls at the new voice and saw a familiar head of red hair. "Ginny!" she gasped in relief.
"What's wrong, Weasley? Did you want to cast the first jinx yourself?" one of the Ravenclaws asked.
For just a moment Hermione worried that Ginny might say 'yes'. Her friend had never looked at her with such disgust.
"I'm just keeping your dream alive, Brocklehurst," Ginny snapped, throwing her hair over her shoulder. "Harry's already figured out that you're threatening her. I can promise you this: if you hurt her while he's still in a relationship with her, you'll have made an enemy you really don't want."
"So we're just supposed to accept this?!" one of the girls wearing Hufflepuff yellow demanded.
Ginny glared at the interrupter. "Be angry all you want. Hate her all you want. Hope that she screws this up all you want. I'm just warning you that if you attack her now, Harry will be coming for revenge."
A part of Hermione wanted to protest the way Ginny seemed to be agreeing with the others. On the other hand, the murmurs she could hear around her had turned uncertain and Hermione reasoned that staying quiet right now might be her best chance at ending this once and for all, without violence on top of everything else.
The situation hung in the balance for another minute before a blond girl in Hufflepuff yellow slunk towards the exit.
"Sally! Are you seriously giving up?" one of her friends called after her.
The girl, Sally, turned around and shot her friend a despairing look. "If Weasley's right, and she does know Harry better than any of us, attacking that bitch means giving up our chances with him. I'm not going to curse myself in the foot like that."
That seemed to be the final push the group needed as they reluctantly filed out, shooting Hermione dirty glances as they went until Hermione was left with only Ginny in the toilet. "Thanks, Ginny. I-"
"Don't!" Ginny snarled out. "I didn't do this for you. I did it for Harry."
"But- I thought we were friends?" Hermione's heart ached at the thought that she might once again have been strung along by someone pretending to be her friend in order to cause more pain at a later date.
"Yeah, I thought so too, but then you just had to go and worm your way into Harry's life." Ginny's glare made it more than clear that the redhead didn't consider them friends at this particular moment. "Just know that the moment he comes to his senses, I'll be there to comfort him."
Ginny whirled around and stalked out of the toilet, leaving Hermione standing alone in the ringing silence. Is this the sort of thing Harry's had to go through at Hogwarts? If so his attitude makes a lot more sense. I don't know if I have what it takes to put up with this for the rest of my life though.
Hermione knew that if she gave up on her relationship with Harry she might have to put up with a spate of 'retributions' from the girls who had cornered her that evening, but once that was over she would be left to sink back into obscurity. So what are you going to do, old girl? Are you going to let them terrorise you into giving up on one of the most special things that has ever happened to you?
No immediate answer came to Hermione. I'm not making any decisions right now, she told herself. Mum and Dad said it often enough this summer: we make poor decisions when we're emotional. It didn't make her feel any better. Nothing for it. If I keep hiding here, they'll just think that this is an effective tactic and I'm not sure I can count on Ginny to keep coming in to save the day.
Every step felt like it took a deliberate, conscious effort, but Hermione forced herself to leave the toilet and make her way back up to the common room. She managed to give the Fat Lady the password in a steady voice and mentally braced herself for the barrage of stares and glares that would hit her as soon as she entered.
Gryffindor didn't disappoint her expectations. As she straightened up from climbing through the portrait hole, Hermione noticed that several girls were glaring at her while several more faces were abruptly turned away. A quick look around told Hermione that Harry wasn't there. Without the threat of Harry's displeasure to keep the eyes off her, Hermione made for the stairs up to her dorm.
She could almost feel the assignments she wasn't doing burning in her bag. I'm not going to get any work done with all that tension focused on me. It may be terrible for my eyes, but I'll head down once everyone has gone to bed and do the work by candlelight.
Crawling into her bed without changing into her pyjamas, Hermione set an Alarm Charm for just after bed time and did her best to fall asleep. Her thoughts refused to settle down and grant her any rest though. Over and over she relived the scene in the toilet earlier that evening.
A part of her wanted to tell Harry about it and hope that he would be able to teach her something that she could use to avoid getting caught in that kind of situation again. He had advised her about fan mail when she'd met that awful Skeeter woman, he was bound to have some kind of answer for this.
On the other hand that would mean admitting that she was unable to handle a few schoolgirls, despite all the training he'd given her. Hermione could still feel the embarrassment of being told to run up to the school to find the Headmaster while Harry faced danger by himself. Needing to be saved from a herd of bints isn't going to convince anyone to treat me like an adult.
At some point Hermione must have dozed off, or at least gotten so absorbed in her worrying that she failed to notice time passing. The jolt from the Alert Charm almost had her leaping off the mattress when it came.
Hermione waited for her breathing to revert to its usual rhythm, straining her ears for any sign that her dormmates were still moving about. The slight snores she heard convinced her that she had waited long enough.
She got out of bed, picking up her slippers and her bookbag. Once she had gently closed the door to her dorm behind her, Hermione pulled the slippers on and made her way down to the common room as quietly as she could. In the heavy darkness around her every scuff of her soles on the steps and every creak of her bookbag's strap sounded almost sacrilegious.
When she finally reached the common room, Hermione drew her wand and whispered "Lumos".
"Who's there?"
Clutching her bag to her chest like a shield, Hermione swung her wand around to face the threat only to find Harry Potter in the beam of her wand-light, sitting in the window sill with one arm thrown up in front of his eyes to ward off the sudden brightness. "Harry!" Hermione breathed out in relief. She jerked her wand down to her side as she suddenly realised she was blinding her Defence Professor. "What are you doing here?"
"Couldn't sleep. You?"
"I- I had some homework I wanted to finish."
It was quiet between them for a moment. "That bad, huh?"
"What- what do you mean?" Hermione asked, wondering if Harry could really know what had happened already.
"Hermione, I've never seen you put off your homework before. The only reason I can come up with why you might have done that now is that people were bothering you so much you couldn't work. The most likely reason for them to be bothering you is because we went to Hogsmeade. Am I wrong?"
"… no, you're not wrong," Hermione admitted.
She heard Harry gust out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I know it sucks."
"I can handle it," Hermione said, a little piqued at the direction this conversation had taken and still more than a little aware of the thoughts that had haunted her as she tried to sleep.
"I'm sure you can," Harry agreed easily. "It still takes some getting used to, doesn't it? All those eyes on you."
"How long did it take you?"
"I'll let you know."
"What?" Hermione asked, perplexed by that dry response.
"I don't think I could say that I've ever gotten used to it," Harry said awkwardly, one hand coming up to run through his hair. "I just kind of… learned to ignore it, I suppose."
"Hmmph. I'll learn the same thing then," Hermione huffed, marching over to where Harry was sitting and dumping her bag on the closest table. She sat down next to Harry and tried to glare into his eyes in the gloom. "I was sure I'd be the only one down here by now you know."
Harry's arm came up only to hang awkwardly in mid-air for a moment. "Would you like me to leave?"
"No."
At Hermione's answer, Harry's arm continued on its path, draped itself across her shoulders and pulled her closer to his warm body. She stayed where she was, just drawing strength from the solid presence next to her. For the second time that day, her homework wasn't important enough to push through the situation Hermione found herself in.
:–:–:–:–:
Harry couldn't believe this was really happening. Between his worry for Hermione earlier in the day and a thoroughly exhausting training session, Harry had expected to drift off to sleep in no time. Instead, he had jolted up from a nightmare after what felt like no time at all.
He tried to shake away the half-formed images he had seen and the screams he had heard as innocents were ripped limb from limb in the dark or gruesomely impaled. It was just a dream, Potter. Even Riddle would need a wand to do- to do what he did.
When tossing and turning hadn't helped him fall back asleep, Harry had come down to the common room to stare out at the stars without risking waking his roommates. He hadn't expected Hermione to come down as well. Not that he was complaining with her curled into his side like she was.
Slowly, Harry felt a tension seep out between his shoulder-blades. He might have fallen asleep right then and there if Hermione hadn't perked up next to him.
"Can you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Harry asked, straining his ears. He gradually became aware of a sound wafting over the castle at the very edge of his hearing.
"Is that… music?" Hermione wondered out loud.
Harry nodded tentatively. "Sounds like it's coming from outside." The two Gryffindors pressed their noses to the window in search of the source of the strange sound. "There," Harry whispered, pointing to the snowy ground where several figures were grouped. The figures were the wrong shape to be human, unless that human was riding an animal.
"Look!" Hermione gasped quietly, pointing slightly off to the side. A smaller figure was making its way over to the figures they'd seen first. They watched as greetings seemed to be exchanged and a conversation started. "What do you think's happening?" Hermione asked, pressing herself closer against the window as if it would allow her a better shot at hearing what was being said hundreds of yards away.
Harry braced himself and positioned his arm so that he could drag her back if the latch on the window gave out, but otherwise kept his attention just as focused on the group below. His precautions proved unnecessary when Hermione threw herself back with loud squeak when a burst of silver erupted from somewhere among the figures and rocketed up towards them.
Harry also scrambled to his feet and drew his wand, only to relax when the bolt of silver soared through the window and resolved itself into a phoenix which opened its beak and spoke in the Headmaster's voice. "Harry, would you be so good as to join me at the edge of the Forbidden Forest?"
This is going to be bad news; I just know it. With a resigned wave of his wand, Harry summoned his winter cloak and his Firebolt.
The arrival of those objects seemed to rouse Hermione from her shock. "Harry, you cannot seriously be considering going down there."
"That was the Headmaster's patronus. I'm sure that he wouldn't call me into unnecessary danger," he replied wearily as he swung the cloak over his shoulders. He was hyper-aware that he was treading on the very edge of lying as, while he really was sure that Dumbledore wouldn't call him into unnecessary danger, the Headmaster might very well call him out into what he considered necessary danger.
"But those are centaurs down there, I'm sure of it. They rarely seek out contact with humans and every time they have before, it was because there was a calamity dire enough to force them to. Nothing good can come of you going down there!"
Harry sighed and took Hermione's hand in a gesture of comfort. "I don't doubt that I'm not going to like whatever it is they need me down there for, but those centaurs came with instruments, not weapons. I think that they just want to talk."
"Harry…"
It sounded like Hermione wasn't even sure what her own objections were, just that the situation was setting off every alarm bell in her head. Good instincts.
"I'll be back soon, Hermione, and then I can tell you everything about what they're here for."
Harry found himself grabbed in a tight hug. "You'd better keep your word, Harry Potter," Hermione whispered into his neck, sending lightning racing up and down his spine. She drew back for a moment and then brushed a chaste kiss across his lips. "Come back to me."
For a moment, Harry was tempted to ignore Dumbledore and explore this new situation. His thoughts felt like they were moving through an Impediment Charm and he was having trouble remembering why ignoring the Headmaster and the centaurs might not be the best idea he'd ever heard of.
In the end though, duty called, as it always did. Harry gently disentangled himself and shared one last look with Hermione before forcing himself to turn around and throw the window open. Mounting his Firebolt, he soared out into the freezing night. It took less than a minute to reach the gathering, but he felt those brown eyes at his back the whole way.
"Ah, Harry, good of you to join us so promptly," Dumbledore greeted him with the kind of casualness that Harry had come to learn meant that things were worse than he'd thought.
"Of course, Headmaster," he played along, before bowing to the centaurs politely. "Greetings."
"Well met, Harry Potter," one of the shadowed centaurs said in a soft voice, taking a step forward. "You have been summoned."
Harry shared a look with Dumbledore, but the old man didn't seem to know any more either. "Yes, and now I've come to find out why."
"Then follow us."
"Might I ask where you are taking my student so late at night?" Dumbledore interrupted, sounding like he was just curious.
"He has been summoned. We will guide him," the centaur who was apparently speaking for their whole group answered.
"And who, precisely, has summoned him?"
The centaur turned a contemplative gaze on Dumbledore, eyes flicking to Harry for only a moment. "He has many names, but we know him as the Horned One."
The Oak King. "Headmaster, I think that I should go to this meeting," Harry breathed out tensely.
Dumbledore gave him a stiff nod, eyes clear with understanding. "Should you feel cold when you return, I shall have a cup of hot cocoa ready for you in my office."
Harry nodded, shouldering his broom and gesturing at the centaurs to lead the way. Just before he followed the group into the forest, he looked back up at the castle, where he knew Hermione would be watching. I promise I'll find you when I get back. Squaring his shoulders, he marched into the forest and towards a meeting that he was reluctant, at best, to take part in.
The centaurs walked in silence for the entire journey. It wasn't until they reached the edge of a clearing Harry had only visited once before that they spoke up again. "We have brought you here in accordance with the Horned One's wishes, Harry Potter. Will you be able to find your own way back?"
It would have been hard to miss the significant look the centaur was giving his broom even if the moon hadn't been full. "I'll manage. Thank you for your help so far."
"Our help was not granted to a mortal this night, Harry Potter. You should hurry and answer the summons before the moon wanes." With that the group turned as one and cantered deeper into the forest.
No wonder Hagrid doesn't like talking to that lot. Conversation that ranges from vague to imperious gets boring in a hurry. Putting the vagaries of the centaurs out of his mind, Harry entered the grove and cautiously approached the oak at its centre. To his shock, the entire clearing was completely free of snow and even the deciduous trees were full of leaves.
As soon as his foot landed on the moss, light began swirling around the tree. By the time he'd reached the foot of the oak, the Oak King was already taking on a recognizable form. Deciding not to take any risks, Harry knelt down. "You wished to see me, Majesty?"
"Indeed, Child of Man." The Oak King's voice was as quiet and reedy as it had been when he had disappeared the last time. "There is an imbalance. My Enemy ensured that I cannot meet him in battle as I have done every year when the sun strengthens again. He would shatter Oak and Ash and Thorn in an effort to gain a permanent supremacy."
"I don't understand, Majesty," Harry protested in confusion. "How could I possibly help?"
"The Enemy has unleashed an Avatar on your world where my kind cannot take physical form. Thus my strength cannot reach his and I am in need of an Avatar of my own."
Uh-oh.
"You are the only one still living of your kind who has broken the hills and thus the only one I can call on with the Enemy's power suppressing mine own. Only you."
Harry raised his head to protest, but was met with a glowing, wooden finger only inches from his face. Before he could react, he felt its touch on his forehead. The Oak King's finger was like sun-warmed wood, but Harry could only appreciate this fact for a split second before that warmth started filling every fibre of his being. He felt himself being lifted into the air, no longer able to touch the ground.
The heat continued to build and build within him until with a flash it evened out and Harry felt himself drop onto the cold moss. Above him the Oak King's voice sounded once more. "You have received my power. Serve me well and you will be rewarded. Fail, and the Enemy will see you die. Now go forth, my Champion."
Harry looked up and saw the Oak King's form fading into whisps of mist that settled around the tree at the centre of the grove. Shoving down furious imprecations on meddling fae behind his occlumency shields, Harry crawled back to his feet and mounted his broom. With a grunt he launched himself into the frigid air and set a course back to the castle.
As the towers came into view, Harry was tempted, very tempted, to ignore Dumbledore's earlier request and just head straight up to bed. No, I'm going to need help on this one, regardless. I need the Headmaster to want to help me; preferably without the lectures.
I'll just have to wait for another night to get Hermione caught up.
With a sigh, Harry turned his broom towards the main doors and landed. He quickly made his way up to the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. The statue jumped aside as soon as Harry came into view, confirming louder than words that Dumbledore was worried about what had happened that night.
Not wanting to waste any time, Harry went straight up the stairs only to find that the door to the office was also open. He stepped inside and closed it behind him before meeting the Headmaster's concerned gaze. "Yeah, problem."
"Then the cocoa will be all the more needed," Dumbledore decided in what Harry suspected was an effort to defuse the tension clawing at them. "Perhaps you might elaborate on this problem while we enjoy our drinks?"
Harry sat down in the chair that Dumbledore had placed a gently steaming mug in front of. "Right. Should we use the pensieve to make sure that we don't miss anything?"
"A wonderful suggestion, my boy." Dumbledore waved his wand and the silver bowl floated over to the table their mugs rested on. "If you would, just concentrate on the memory and I shall cast the Memory Retrieval Charm."
Harry was far too eager to get this over with to demand that he be taught the spell. Instead, he closed his eyes and felt the tip of Dumbledore's wand land on his temple as he did his best to remember what had happened. There was a rush of warmth as the wand left his temple and Harry found himself blinking away disorientation as he thoroughly lost his train of thought.
"My apologies, I should have warned you of the effects that removing a memory has," Dumbledore spoke up next to him.
Oh. Right. I was giving him a memory for the pensieve. "It's fine. Let's just have a look."
Watching the entire scene in the grove play out in front of him when he had only the haziest recognition of it having happened before, allowed Harry to feel the enormous impact of what had been done to him again. We're fucked.
"Hmm," Dumbledore thrummed as he settled back into his seat. "This certainly complicates matters."
"You think?" Harry growled out sarcastically. "Riddle got an upgrade that he probably wished for, one we have to assume he can use, and I got slapped with I-haven't-the-faintest-idea-what and the command to go take him on!"
"I agree that we have to assume that Tom has at least a working knowledge of what it means to be the Holly King's avatar, but I think you sell yourself short, my boy," Dumbledore said pensively. "I have every faith that you will work out the meaning of the Oak King's boon for yourself."
"Yeah, right ruddy convenient when it's not your neck on the line!" On some level, Harry knew he was being unfair. Dumbledore hadn't been the one to saddle him with this and was only doing his best to be encouraging, but that realization was being swamped by the sheer enormity of the task that had been unceremoniously dropped in his lap.
The worst part of it was that the Headmaster just sat there with an accepting look on his face. "You are, of course, right, Harry. This weight does not rest on my shoulders. I will help you, however I can, but I cannot do more than that; I cannot walk the path for you."
"I KNOW!" Harry screamed out, before collapsing back into the chair. "I know…" he repeated in a whisper.
The two wizards sat in silent contemplation for a long time. Eventually it was Dumbledore who broke the silence. "Harry, I will not presume to tell you when you will be ready for that which has been laid upon you, but I shall do my best to help you with this new development. I will take some time to think the matter over. Right now, I can only tell you that we are both ready for bed. Tomorrow will not wait for us and, unless I miss my guess, Ms. Granger will not either."
Harry just nodded, accepting the dismissal for what it was, and got up from his chair. He left the office without looking back and trudged his way up to Gryffindor Tower. He didn't even bother to undress and just flopped down on top of his bed with his winter cloak still on. Sleep washed over him before the mattress had finished bouncing from the sudden impact.
:-:-:-:-:
Why on earth does Ron always procrastinate? This is absolutely awful. Hermione could almost feel the blood pumping through her veins as she desperately tried to catch up on the homework she hadn't done the day before. Actually, Ron usually leaves his work even later. How does he even survive this feeling on a regular basis?
Hermione forced her thoughts back on track and turned her focus back to her Charms homework. Come on, old girl. You can do this. Cheering Charms. Just think about Cheering Charms and their uses in medicine. Maybe I could use one on Harry when I see him. He might need it after being called out into the snow by the Headmaster.
Drat! No. Homework. I am focusing on my homework.
Hermione tried to stick to her resolution, she really did, but she couldn't claim to have succeeded. In the first place she had resorted to doing her homework because Harry was late getting down from his dorm. Hermione didn't blame him for having a bit of a lie in, whatever he'd gotten into last night was more than a little likely to have been exhausting, but it was getting close to lunch time and worry had begun gnawing at her.
She had briefly contemplated heading up to Harry's dorm to check up on him, but despite his forgiveness of her previous incursion, Hermione wasn't sure that she ought to be making a habit of walking in there.
In the end, the dilemma was resolved for her by Ron clambering through the portrait hole. His eyes found her, darted over to the stairs and settled on her again. "Harry still hasn't come down yet?" the redhead asked in worry.
Hermione just shook her head, not trusting her voice.
"Damn," Ron said, quietly, but with feeling. "That means last night's nightmare was probably a bad one.
Hermione hated herself for not telling her oldest friend about the way Harry had been drawn from the castle the night before, but she knew that Harry was extremely reluctant to tell anyone about what he got up to with the Headmaster. While Ron was the most likely person to know what went on behind that stone gargoyle, she didn't want to create problems for Harry on the off chance that he hadn't actually confided in anyone at all.
"I'm going to have to go up there and get him up," Ron sighed. "People are going to notice if he's up there all day."
Hermione nodded.
Ron cocked an eyebrow at her. "I'm impressed that you actually managed to stay out of our dorm this time." The youngest of the Weasley brothers made it up the stairs before the Banished pillow could hit him in the head, laughing all the way.
Hermione glared at the bottom of the stairs for a bit, just to vent her frustration and then set about packing up her homework. If his absence was already this distracting, I doubt I'll be able to work through his presence.
Hermione admitted to herself that it was unlike her to be so incapable of finishing an essay. The problem is that I've been spending time with someone who attracts fascinating mysteries like honey attracts flies. Honestly, even if I can't understand Ron's tendency to procrastinate, it has at least become abundantly clear why he kept getting swept up in those madcap adventures. Who could resist?
I wish I'd known sooner. In an attempt to make the familiar regret go away, Hermione reminded herself that she wouldn't have received half the reputation for academic excellence that she apparently held if she had let Harry Potter lead her around by the curiosity for five years.
Hermione was broken from her musings by the sound of Ron's feet slapping the stone stairs. She didn't wait for him to make it all the way to the common room. "Well?"
Ron gave her a grin. "Your boyfriend is fine," he teased, before sobering up slightly. "Well, y'know… as alright as Harry gets the morning after one of his visions from You Know Who."
"It was definitely a vision then?" Hermione asked, searching Ron's face for a hint of a lie.
Ron shrugged a little uncomfortably. "It looks like it. I mean he didn't really talk about it. He never does."
Hermione restrained the urge to groan. Calm down, old girl. The goal here isn't to have Ron digging too deep. "I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't mean to interrogate you. I'm just worried about him."
Ron's jaw dropped open. "You- you're actually apologising? What has he done to you?!"
This time the pillow hit.
"Alright, alright," Ron muttered, flicking his wand and sending the pillow back to the couch, "I was just trying to lighten the mood a bit. Harry's mopey enough as it is without you or me getting in on it too."
"I'm sure we'll be able to get him through it," Hermione said, chewing on her thumb nervously.
"Uh-huh," Ron agreed unenthusiastically.
They both sat down to wait for Harry to come down. When he finally came into view, Hermione understood what Ron had meant about Harry looking like he'd had a nightmare. He was pale and there were visible bags under his eyes. More telling though, was the look in his eyes. For the first time Hermione could remember, Harry's usually brilliant eyes looked dulled and empty.
"Ready for breakfast, mate?" Ron asked bracingly.
"Sure," Harry said with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested he'd be just as interested in starving to death.
The sheer depression in his voice was like a sting to Hermione's backside. She got up and took his hand in her own, using the leverage to pull them closer together, offering what comfort she could. She gently kissed his cheek and waited for him to look at her. "Hey," she said once his eyes met hers and she realised she didn't know how to continue.
"Hey," Harry responded softly. It wasn't much, but the tone of Harry's voice had at least gentled a little.
"Why don't we grab something from the kitchens?" Ron suggested. "I reckon there's not much left in the Great Hall anyway."
And it will offer some privacy Hermione realised. "I think that's a good idea. Harry?"
"Yeah," her boyfriend muttered. "Yeah, let's do that."
As they made their way out of the common room, Hermione decided that she could wait to grill Harry on what had happened, at least until he was talking of his own volition again. She tried to convince herself that it was the logical course of action, but her heart whispered I don't like seeing him like this.
No. I told Ron we'd get him through this and I will. Anything else can come after that.
AN:
"By Oak, Ash and Thorn" is a type of oath we know was used England centuries ago, possibly as far back as the middle ages and we know that it was likely a serious one. It comes to us in the Ballad of Glasgerion as it was written in Reliques of Ancient English Poetry by Bishop Thomas Percy in 1765 (the youngest of which were apparently a century or so old at the time). This line may have inspired Rudyard Kipling when he was writing Puck of Pook's Hill. Specifically the importance of Ash and Oak and Thorn is mentioned in the first chapter/story 'Weland's Sword', which is followed by the poem 'A Tree Song'. You might find the penultimate stanza of that poem interesting in the context of this fic:
Oh, do not tell the Priest our plight,
Or he would call it a sin;
But we have been out in the woods all night,
A-conjuring Summer in!
And we bring you news by word of mouth-
Good news for cattle and corn-
Now is the Sun come up from the South,
With Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!
Incidentally, the book Puck of Pook's Hill is available for free via the Gutenberg Project which collects classics on which the copyright has expired. In it you will also find Puck referring to his being summoned as 'breaking the hills'.
Interestingly, the immortal centaur Chiron was a foster child of the god Apollo. His greatest skills, according to most myths I've read, line up fairly well with his adopted father's: medicine and herbs, archery and hunting, athletics, prophecy and, of course, music.