Chapter Fourteen: The Little Things Give You Away
Hermione allowed him to walk away. She couldn't think of anything to say to him, so she decided on nothing. I might even love you. She knew that there was a way to respond to that, but the words hadn't come. She guessed that he hadn't expected much of a response anyway.
She was all too aware of the people standing around her. Jack was on her right side, and Ginny was standing on her left. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with either one of them, and she couldn't fight off just how alone she suddenly felt. She should have been able to write to her mother about things like these. She should have had parents who cared.
"Hermione," Jack started, and her head snapped towards him. Her glare was so intense that he clamped his mouth shut.
She took a deep breath. It wouldn't do to blow up at Jack now. "Please don't start," she said tensely. "I'm fine." Which was a lie. She definitely wasn't fine. Neither was Harry, by the look of things. He looked particularly traumatised, and Hermione could only guess as to the reason why. Perhaps the guilt was too much, she didn't know.
She looked down at the letter he'd given her, and she had half a mind to chuck it into the fire. She didn't want to read his words. She'd lay eyes on his familiar messy scrawl, and she couldn't say how it would affect her. She wanted to stay angry. She was safe when she was angry. Any feeling other than that, and she was convinced she would fall apart all over again.
Tucking the letter into the pocket of her robes, Hermione took a deep, calming breath, and then continued on her way to her dormitory. She really didn't need to deal with people now. It wasn't even about Jack or Ginny; just people in general. She hated that this was her life now; that the entire school now knew that her boyfriend had cheated on her with her best friend. God, this was horrible.
As soon as she was safely behind the curtains of her bed and a Silencing Charm, she broke down in tears. She cried for all she'd lost, and all she'd gained. It was too much. All of it.
How did they even get here?
Hermione wasn't sure how long she spent crying, until she took out Harry's letter. Her name was written at its top, beckoning to her. There was no way that she would be able to not read it. There'd been something in his eyes; something in the tone of his voice that was making her consider that he was telling the truth. There was some truth to the words he said, and Hermione's nature wouldn't allow her to let it go.
Hermione unfolded the letter, and started to read.
.
Dear Hermione
There are things that you'll hear; things that people will tell you; but I want to tell you everything that happened as I remember it. I hope you'll bear with me, and possibly reserve judgement for the duration of this letter. Just know that I'm sorry. I'm deeply, deeply sorry that all of this has happened.
After the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, Ginny came to my room and asked me a few questions, about me and about you. I refused to answer. She kissed me. For a moment, I let her, and then I pushed her away. I told her 'no.' I'm very sure of that.
I'm not making any excuses because the guilt of it has eaten away at me for weeks. I agonised over what to tell you, and eventually decided on nothing. I don't know if you recall a conversation that we once had, but you helped me decide. All I knew is that I wanted to be with you, and not her. I convinced myself that it didn't matter, but I was wrong.
Now, I wish I'd told you. I just didn't want to hurt you, and now look at what's happened.
She did something to me. Something that made me not me. Believe me when I say that I already know what it's like not to be in control, and I never want to experience what she did to me ever again.
She saw you and me together, and she wanted it for herself. It's as you said. She wanted what we had, and she thought that I would be the one to give it to her. Madam Pomfrey says it's some kind of Potion cocktail, that shifts my loyalty, makes me pliable and affects my memory. She tried to change me. Then she instructed me to break up with you. I believe that was the crack in her plan, because that's the moment it all fell apart.
I'm not trying to be funny or whatever it is you're thinking right now. It's the truth. The mere thought of not being with you was enough to overpower whatever was going on inside me, and I was able to get to Luna. She took me to the Infirmary, and now here we are.
I asked Luna not to tell you, because I wanted you to hear it from me. If you're reading this letter, then I must not have done a good job of it. I don't doubt that she'll end up telling you things anyway. I also suspect that she's plotting Ginny's demise as I write this.
I'm a halfblood, so there isn't much hope with the Wizarding Laws, but my mum is still going to look into it. Ginny's not Jack. She doesn't have the same protection that he has, though she still has some because of her family's Order status. That's the crux of it all, isn't it? The 'Greater Good.' I hope you won't hate me if something does happen to her - Sirius was screaming bloody murder, so who knows? If anything, I'd want her to stay as far away from me as possible.
I know that you've always made your own decisions, and I've tried to accept and understand them, but please just stop and think. This thing that she did was never about me, and we both know it.
I've gone home for a bit. I need to be at home, I think. Away from everything, and with my mum. I think it will also do you good not to see me everyday. We've both said and done enough to each other for a while.
If I don't get to say any of this to you when I see you, please believe that I tried. I want you to know how much you mean to me. You have to know that this is the last thing I ever wanted to happen to us, because I was happy. I truly was, with you.
Always with you.
Love,
Harry
.
Hermione read the letter another two times, her tears continuing to fall. At this rate, she wasn't sure if they would ever stop. Her heart was aching, and her head was pounding. What had Ginny done to them? And why?
"Oh Harry," she said, clutching the letter to her chest. "What did she do to you?" She shook her head. "What did she do to us?"
Harry didn't return to the Castle. There was a lot of talk, and then there just wasn't any anymore. Stories were conflicting and, based on the fights that Hermione and Ginny were constantly having; all the rumours were just getting twisted.
But Harry still didn't return.
When Easter Break was upon them, Hermione accepted that she probably wouldn't see him until after the Break. At least, that was what Luna told her. Hermione expected the petite blonde to be more wary of her, possibly even hate her; but Luna seemed to understand more than Hermione gave her credit for. As long as Hermione knew the truth. Really, Hermione would have welcomed the Ravenclaw's yelling. She wanted to be called an idiot for ever thinking that Harry never wanted her.
So, Hermione went about her days in abject silence. When she wasn't in class, or forced into conversations with Ginny or Jack; she was silent. Always contemplative, searching for something; waiting for something, anything.
Waiting for Harry.
Hermione's heartbreak was too much to put into words, even though she knew that Harry wasn't truly at fault. If anything, she was. And Ginny. God, what was the redhead thinking? Did she even stop to think about what she was doing? To Harry, and to Hermione.
No, apparently not, if she kept leading with the same lines.
"We didn't mean to hurt you," Ginny said, catching Hermione on her way out of her dormitory. It was the word 'we' that always gave Hermione pause. She'd suspected Jack's involvement, and it was like a slap to the face when Ginny always unwittingly confirmed it. It made no sense. All of it. No sense at all.
What were they thinking? Were they even thinking?
She learned from Ron - surprisingly, the only somewhat remorseful participant in the big mess that Ginny created- that he and Jack didn't actually know what Ginny had planned, but they'd made no move to stop her. Hermione couldn't decide if that was better or worse.
Should it have been surprising that Jack Potter was an opportunistic idiot?
She'd yet to confront Jack about it, because she didn't even know what to say him - or if she even wanted to say anything. She was ignoring the hell out of him though, and she would continue to do so until she could wrap her head around all that had happened. Really, there was only so much a teenager could handle. She wished that she too could go home - wherever that was.
"Just stop!" Hermione snapped, completely and utterly over it. She was so tired of hearing the same thing. The same lies.
"Hermione - "
"No!" she hissed. "I don't want to hear any more of this, okay? I'm done. I told you I was done. I don't want to see you; I don't want to talk to you. Just stay away from me, and maybe I can get through the next two years of school without killing you." It was dramatic, she knew; but Hermione was just so tired of it all.
Ginny took a step back. "Hermione?"
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" she asked harshly. "Do you have any idea how happy I was?" Then: "Or you did, and you wanted to take it away from me. What did you think? That, because he had a crush on you once upon a time, he would just jump into your arms the moment that you showed him any interest?"
"He did."
Hermione froze. Then, sighing, she said: "Maybe he did, yeah, for a moment, and I believe we could have worked through that, but what you've done now, Ginny; there's no excuse for it. And you know it!" Hermione could only forgive Harry's moment, because of her own moment with Jack. She liked to think she was above it all, but it still hurt to think about it.
Ginny had kissed him, and he hadn't told her.
But Jack had kissed her... and Hermione was sure that she probably wouldn't have told Harry either. Not because she thought he wouldn't believe her, but because she didn't want to hurt him. Still, after everything, she didn't think she would ever tell him.
But that just left Jack with ammunition, to be used anytime against Harry.
How would she even tell him? Oh, remember how I accused you of cheating... well, it turns out that I did the exact same thing. Hermione even snorted, and Ginny looked at her curiously. Maybe Hermione was going insane. She sometimes felt it.
"Please will you just leave me alone," Hermione eventually said, sounding defeated. She felt defeated. This was undeniably the longest Easter Break of her entire life, and she missed Harry. There was no denying it. She missed him something fierce, and she had no idea what to do about it. There was no way to call him, and she didn't believe that a letter would suffice. She needed to hear his voice. She needed to see him.
"We have to talk about this, Hermione," Ginny argued.
"There is nothing to talk about!" Hermione hissed. "Ginny, you kissed my boyfriend. And when he said no to your advances, you drugged him. You drugged him. Do you even understand how messed up that is? I mean, why?"
"Huh?"
"Why did you do it? Why would you? Were you that mad that I wasn't spending as much time with you, because I really did try to include you after you and Jack broke up. I tried so hard to make time, so that I didn't neglect you, or Jack, or Harry. And then you go and do this! Why? What did I ever do to you?"
Of course, Hermione already had an idea behind Ginny's true reasoning, but she wasn't going to say it out loud. It didn't make sense to her that the redhead could have ever been jealous of her. It was borderline inconceivable.
Ginny, wisely, didn't say a word.
"He meant everything to me," Hermione continued. "And he still does."
Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "I'm your best friend, and he's the one you believe?"
Hermione shook her head, trying not to give in to the sudden hurt her words caused. When would the lies stop? "Ginny, please," she said. "Stop it. Stop it now. I know what you did. I know! All about it."
Ginny flinched.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," she said darkly; "I have better things to do than stand here and listen to your lies." With that, she turned on her heel and continued down the corridor, her mind reeling. She walked for quite some time, unsure of her destination until she found herself standing in front of Harry's desk in the library. Of course, it was empty, and she felt it.
She felt empty.
"Are you just going to stand and stare, or are you going to sit down?"
Hermione turned her head to spy Neville standing to her right, smiling crookedly. "Hey, Neville."
"Hey, Hermione," he said, moving around her to sit down in the seat he usually sat at when all four of them were sitting together. His movement prompted hers, and she walked around the table to sit down in the chair that was next to Harry's.
Neither of them spoke for a while as they settled in with their respective assignments. It wasn't that it was uncomfortable; it was just that there was something playing on Hermione's mind. Given her already perilous position with Harry; she didn't think that asking Neville what she needed to would be so harmful.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Say, Neville, can I ask you a question?"
The Hufflepuff waited a moment before he looked up, his eyes wider than normal. "What's on your mind?"
She set down her quill. "You don't like me all that much, do you?"
Neville immediately opened his mouth to argue with her, but quickly snapped it shut. He suspected that this was a conversation that was long overdue. "It's not that I don't like you," he began, somewhat cautiously.
"You just never liked me for Harry then?"
"I've never seen him happier than he was when he was with you," he said truthfully, and was rewarded with Hermione's blush. "It's just that, well, I've never truly been able to figure you out," he confessed.
She frowned.
"I know there are things that you don't let people see, and that's okay, but there's always been something about you that I've never understood."
"Just ask, Neville," she said.
"Why are you friends with Jack?" he asked, practically blurting it out. He took a breath. "I mean, if you've known how he treats Harry all these years; why are you friends with him? And why this year? Why this year out of all of them? Is it because he decided this was his year? I've always wondered why."
"Those are a lot of questions, Neville," she said quietly, her gaze dropping to the parchment in front of her. "I'm not sure what you want to hear," she said. "Harry seems to think that I'm this great person, but I'm not. He doesn't accept that I'm deeply, deeply flawed."
Neville looked skeptical. "You did know what Jack was doing, right?"
Hermione didn't say anything.
"Hermione?"
"Have you ever worn rose-coloured glasses?" she asked suddenly, her gaze meeting his. "Like, you see things, but you don't? Like, you know things, but somehow choose not to, because the consequences of acknowledging are too much to deal with in the moment?"
"I can't believe that you would turn a blind eye for social status," he pointed out.
"It wasn't about that," she told him. "Not about social status. It was about safety." She couldn't even look at him, the shame eating at her from the inside out. "My entire life has been disappointment after disappointment. At this stage, I'm pretty much used to it. Before Hogwarts, I'd never really had friends. I'm too much of a bookworm, and I don't really view the world the way that others do, which makes it difficult for me to forge relationships.
"When I got here, I couldn't quite turn me off." She shook her head. "When I became friends with Ron and Jack, something happened. Something I've never truly been able to explain. So, yeah, I knew of some things, but not everything." She met Neville's gaze. "There's a lot more behind his hatred, and I'm one of those that can see through it. All he does is because of his father, and somebody has to help him find his way. I don't expect you to understand, Neville, but - "
"Harry understands, doesn't he?"
She risked a smile. "I'm convinced he's a man in a boy's body."
"His mother's definitely raising him right."
Hermione fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "I know the Jack behind it all," she continued, forcing the words out. "Behind the whole Boy-Who-Lived facade, and behind this hateful front he puts up to impress his father. He's a teenage boy who's just as lost as the rest of us." She had to stand by that now more than anything, because she couldn't quite see where her friendship with Jack stayed intact.
Did she even want it to? She didn't see a way for them to get past this. Really, the end of their friendship had been inevitable for a while now, and only Hermione's fear of who she'd be without him kept it together.
But now? Now, she was sure she'd rather be alone than have friends like those.
What did that make her? How was this the final straw? Where did she draw the line? Really, it made her feel dirty. This was what she deserved, wasn't it? No. She was done. If Jack wanted to better himself, he'd have to figure it out without her. And Ginny. She was done with her too.
Where did that leave her?
Neville just nodded thoughtfully, deciding that this was one complicated girl. Then: "And you always felt temporary," he said after a moment.
"What?"
"Like, you always had one foot out the door," he explained. "Like, you would never ever truly be his when Jack still had a claim to you. Like, you never willingly gave him all of you, and maybe that's because you were scared of getting hurt, but I always got the feeling that, every time you were with us or with him; it was always a matter of time until you just weren't."
All she could do was stare at him.
"I don't know," he concluded; "it was just a feeling I got." With that, he returned to his work and, after a moment, Hermione did too. She was safe in her books. They didn't expect anything from her. Though, she expected quite a bit from them.
Eventually, the two of them were joined by Luna, and they all settled into a semi-comfortable working silence.
It was Luna who first voiced what all of them were thinking about: a certain green-eyed wizard. "So, Harry gets back on Sunday," she said. "As far as I know, at least."
"What does that mean?" Hermione asked.
"I know that he and his mother have been toying with the idea of homeschooling for a while now," she said. "I think they were waiting for after he wrote his O.W.L.s, but he could probably write them now and pass easily. I suspect they're all options that they've considered."
Hermione just blinked. "Are you trying to tell me that there's a possibility that Harry might not come back?"
Luna nodded.
"But...?"
Neville looked equally concerned. "He would tell us first, wouldn't he? He'd tell us, right? I mean, he wouldn't just leave forever and not tell us. Harry wouldn't do that."
"Neville," Luna said. "Calm down. I just said it's a possibility; not that it's going to happen." Truthfully, she didn't look all that convinced, and it did nothing to ease Hermione's racing heart.
So it was a truly anxious Hermione Granger waiting for Harry Potter in the Common Room come late Sunday evening, mentally going over everything that she wanted to say when she saw him. She suspected that he waited until the last possible moment to enter Gryffindor Tower, and she really didn't blame him. She wouldn't want to see anyone either.
Hermione was nervous, that was for sure. Would he even want to talk to her after everything she'd said about him and his father?
If Harry was surprised to see her there when he finally stepped through the portrait hole, he didn't show it. His eyes rather softened at the sight of her, as if he'd missed just being able to see her. He looked better than he had before he left, but there was still something sitting heavily on his shoulders. Those strong, burdened shoulders.
"Harry," she said, standing up. It took everything she had not to rush to him and throw her arms around him.
"Granger."
"How was your Break?" she asked, choosing to start somewhere safe.
There was a moment; a moment when he decided to allow them to pretend that things were okay. He could tell that she needed this from him, so he was going to give it to her. "It was interesting," he said casually. "I got to witness my mum and Sirius actually being officially together, but it really didn't seem like anything actually changed."
"That's understandable," she commented.
He remained silent.
She shifted her weight from her left foot to her right, and then back again. "I spent parts of the Break with Luna," she told him when he didn't ask after her own Break. "She told me things."
Harry dropped his gaze.
"And I read your letter," she added. "For a while, I considered not reading it, but I couldn't not read the words. They came from you."
He made a pained sound, wishing that she would just get to the point already.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "God, Harry, I'm sorry for so many things." She took a small step towards him, and he took an involuntary step back. She tried not to read too much into it. "I'm sorry that being with me made her hurt you the way that she did. That was the last thing you deserved, and I'm also sorry that I didn't believe you when you said you didn't know. I was just so angry, and you mentioned a kiss, and I just saw red. I'm also sorry for everything I said." She took in a shuddering breath. "I didn't mean it. You are nothing like your father."
He refused to look at her.
She risked another step towards him. "You are kind, and you are so caring and loving," she said. "After everything this world has thrown your way; you are so much more, and I am so sorry that I used your fears to hurt you. I just - I suppose I just wanted you to feel how I felt. But you didn't deserve that; especially not from me. These past few days have been awful, but you have to know that I choose you, okay? I believe you, and not her."
Harry let out a long breath. "There's nothing to be done," he said. "Apparently Purebloods are allowed to do this kind of thing, and it helps her case that you're a Muggleborn."
Hermione couldn't help her shudder. She hadn't truly considered that this whole thing was also an act of malice towards her.
"Mum went to Madam Bones," he explained. "Wanted to know the options, and there are none." He laughed humourlessly. "I considered not coming back, you know? Mum said it was all right, but - " he stopped suddenly. "I couldn't do that. Not to Luna and Neville. And, deep down, I knew I couldn't do that to you."
She just looked at him.
"I managed to get a Protection Order though," he added solemnly. "I demanded it, and Sirius agreed. He would declare her an Enemy of House Black, but with the War coming; we already have enough enemies. She's not allowed in Headquarters though, which definitely didn't go down well with Mrs Weasley. Doesn't she get it? Jack is a Potter, and so am I. This thing she did, if my father even gave a rat's ass about me, would be insulting the House of Potter."
Harry shook his head. "Anyway, so she's not allowed within ten metres of me, and she's definitely not allowed to engage me in conversation. She's not allowed to be in the Common Room if I am, and she can't sit near me at the Gryffindor Table. Though, I think I'll go back to sitting with Luna and Neville, now that we're..." he trailed off. "What are we, Granger?"
What were they? Wasn't that the golden question...
"I don't know," she finally said. "I really don't know what happens now, Harry. Even if, somehow, we can forgive each other for what's happened; I can't - I don't think I can be with you right now... I can't. I don't know what you want, but I'm just - " She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry that all this happened. It's all going to take time, isn't it?"
He nodded, never lifting his head high enough.
"But we can try being just friends again, can't we?" she found herself suggesting.
He finally looked up. "Is that what you want?"
"It won't be the same as it was, for obvious reasons," she said, needing him to know. "It'll be different."
All he knew was that he didn't want to lose her. "Just friends?" he asked. "That's not code for 'go away,' is it?"
"No, it's not."
He nodded thoughtfully. "But it'll be different?"
"Do you remember how we used to just be, before all of this?"
"I told you that I'd never be able to go back to being just a stranger to you again, so I hope that's not what you're asking me to do," he said seriously, his face ashen.
"It's not," she assured him. "It's definitely not. I just - it can't be as it was."
"Because I broke your trust?"
She shook her head no. It wasn't that at all. "No, it's not," she said. "I do trust you. Harry. It's because, the moment that I thought that you did, I wasn't surprised," she explained solemnly; "Which is to do with me. And that's something that I need to work on before you and I can - " she stopped. Before they could what?
"I'm so sorry, Hermione."
She closed her eyes at the sound of her name from his lips. She had half a mind to tell him not to call her that, but it sounded too good for her to do that. A part of her was sure that this little break she was insisting on was just a waste of time. Somehow, they would find their way back to each other.
But, right now, she wasn't ready. And, really, she was convinced that he wasn't either. It would take them time to get back to what they had before. If 'before' was even what he wanted. She was too afraid of his answer, so she didn't ask.
So much for Gryffindor courage.
"Uh, Luna asked me to give this to you," Harry said, holding out a notebook for Hermione to take.
Hermione met his gaze, from her position in an armchair in the Gryffindor Common Room. "Do you know what it is?" she asked, automatically reaching for it.
He shrugged. "I stopped asking questions a long time ago," he said, risking a smile. He was determined for this interaction not to be awkward. They'd had to deal with enough of that, particularly after Ginny was presented with the Protection Order. Ron threw a fit, and Quidditch practices were extra tense, with the twins staring daggers into Harry's back.
Sure, he was the one who was drugged, and they all blamed him for the consequences. What the hell kind of backwards world were they all living in? It was not the victim's fault.
"She did tell me to tell you that you're to at least open it before the end of the day," he said, relaying the message. "Otherwise bad things will happen."
Her eyes snapped towards him. "Bad things?" she squeaked, before she caught sight of the amusement in his eyes. "Oh you," she laughed. "You're such an idiot."
"Maybe, maybe not."
She smiled at him, feeling her heart beat just that bit faster. This was her Harry; this was them before everything that happened, happened. This was what she wanted back and, for the first time, she was convinced that they could have it.
Before she could open her mouth to voice her thoughts, the portrait swung open, and Ginny, Jack and Ron stepped through. Harry immediately tensed, and Ginny shot him a dirty look.
"Oh, do you want me to go?" she asked sarcastically.
Any other day and Harry would have said 'yes,' but being in that room with everyone else was the last thing he wanted. "Next time," he said, looking her right in the eye. "At least you haven't forgotten." He turned to look at Hermione. "Remember. Before the end of the day." And then he was gone, disappearing from the Common Room and leaving Hermione to deal with the aftermath of their conversation.
"Were you actually just talking to Harry?" Jack asked.
Hermione's eyes narrowed, practically daring him to continue with his line of questioning.
He did. "Why on earth would you still be talking to him?"
"Why on earth am I still talking to you?"
"I'm not the one who cheated on you with your best friend," he snapped, and Hermione was just able to hide her flinch.
"Well, I'm not the one who was privy to his ex-girlfriend possibly drugging his brother," she countered, and he had the decency to drop his gaze. "Who I talk to doesn't concern you, Jack Potter," she said.
"It does, when you're parading around here, just acting like - "
"Oh, would you just shut up, Jack," Ginny said from behind Jack. "Will you just leave her alone already? She clearly doesn't want to talk to you."
Jack glared at the redhead. "Shut up, Ginny," he hissed. "Nobody asked you."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Just leave her alone."
Jack huffed, and Hermione turned her gaze on Ginny, a frown on her face. What was the redhead trying to do? Was this all a manifestation of remorse because, really, Hermione wasn't having any of it.
"That's it?" Jack asked, forcing Hermione to look at him again. "Harry kisses Ginny, and you're talking to him already, but I ki - " he stopped suddenly, aware that they weren't alone.
"You what, Jack?" Hermione pressed, as she rose to her feet. "What exactly did you do, huh?"
He pressed his lips together, keeping quiet.
"What I do, and how I handle everything is my business," she informed him, her voice devoid of all emotion. "Stop getting involved." Next, she turned to Ginny, who was now perched on the edge of the couch nearest the far wall, watching them with curious eyes. Somewhat darkly, she said: "I can take care of myself."
Ginny nodded. "Never thought you couldn't."
Hermione didn't spare her a glance more, before she was heading out of the Common Room, and up to her dormitory. It was hard enough trying to be Harry's friend as it was, and everyone else was just making it that bit harder. There were still rumours running around, and the Protection Order was anything but secret. That merely resulted in completely wild stories that Hermione deftly tried her best to ignore.
Why couldn't they just leave them alone? Why couldn't they just mind their own business? Was it too much to ask?
Truly, in this school, it probably was. The only good thing was that it would probably be old news by the time the new school week rolled around.
Thank Merlin for small mercies.
Preparations for their O.W.L. exams took over their lives and Harry, Neville and Hermione fell into a study routine to rival even those preparing for their N.E.W.T.s. Well, while the three Fifth-Years worked studiously, Luna spent her time coming up with ways to bring pain to Jack Potter and the Weasley brood, particularly the youngest. Her plans would only take affect when they left Hogwarts because, really, why give the school any more to talk about?
Hermione didn't join Harry, Luna and Neville in the library as often as she used to, and she didn't engage in any conversation with either Ginny or Jack. She was also mad at Ron for being an accomplice, but he was the only one who apologised. Perhaps he'd received a firm stripping down from his mother - who knew? Either way, it meant something to her; something he probably wouldn't ever understand.
"It's the practical that's going to get me," Hermione said, sighing heavily. "I can do the theory fine, but DADA practicals are definitely not my forte. Especially since Umbridge doesn't believe it's something we have to learn." She huffed. "Have I ever mentioned how much I hate her?"
Neville let out an amused breath. "You may have mentioned it, once or twice."
The library was full of Fifth-Years preparing for their O.W.L.s and Seventh-Years gearing up for their N.E.W.T.s. Because their exams were administered by the Ministry of Magic; they started a week earlier than the rest of the school. They would all finish at the same time though, which was a bit of a relief. Someone somewhere decided to be kind to them.
Luna lifted her head to look at Hermione. "I'm sure Harry would help you if you asked," she said to the brunette. "He's actually really good at duelling."
Hermione didn't miss the fact that Harry shot Luna a glare. "He is?" she asked.
"Oh yeah," Neville said. "Really good."
Hermione turned to look at Harry. "What are they talking about?"
He sighed. "It's nothing, really," he said. "It's just that, well, after last year, Sirius kind of, umm, trained me over the summer. He wants me to be prepared for anything, if ever something like that happens again."
She blinked. "And what exactly did happen?"
He looked so uncomfortable, as his eyes flicked towards Luna and Neville, before settling back on Hermione. "As I've told you before, I tend to get, umm, whisked away to wherever Jack and Tom are having it out. I remember sitting in the stands during the Third Task, and then I was just in a graveyard." He visibly shuddered at the memory. "Voldemort was being resurrected when I arrived, and there was nothing I could do to stop it." He dropped his gaze. "He's a monster, you know. I mean, he is one, but now he looks like one as well. It was terrifying. I was terrified, so I can only imagine what Jack was feeling."
Hermione couldn't take her eyes off of him. The fact that he could just talk about the way that he was fascinated her. His eyes were focused elsewhere, but he was definitely talking to her. He knew that this was what she'd always wanted to know. This story, right here; she wanted to know the truth of it.
"Pettigrew was there," Harry continued. "He was bleeding from his hand, which I think was part of the Ritual to bring him back. Jack was tied up. They didn't hear me arrive, so I was able to hide behind one of the tombstones." He shook his head. "Looking back, I can't quite accept how pathetic I was."
"That's awfully critical of yourself, Harry," Hermione said.
He sighed heavily.
Despite her words, he couldn't help what he felt. He'd been so unprepared. So naive. "He called his merry band of Death Eaters to him," he continued. "I never realised how the Dark Mark actually worked until I saw it in action that night. It's a terrifying thing, and Sirius said that a person has to do something awful to receive it. He didn't go into details, but I assume that it involves at least one of the Unforgivables."
Neville dropped his gaze, his fists clenching under the table. It took him a long time to get over the fake-Moody's lesson on the Unforgivables, and sometimes he wasn't sure he'd fully recovered. Even as he thought about it, his eyes flickered towards Hermione. He'd never actually thanked her for what she'd said to try to get fake-Moody to stop with the Cruciatus.
Huh? She really was a complicated person, wasn't she?
"His followers were hooded when they arrived, but Vold - Tom - was flaunting his return," Harry went on. "Showing off, as it were. Scolding them for believing him dead; for believing that a mere baby could have defeated them. I saw a few faces, only one of which I actually recognised. I've begged Sirius to take me to a Wizengamot session, so I can try to identify the others, but he thinks it's too dangerous." He looked annoyed for a moment, before his features softened. "I mean, I guess he's right, but I kind of wish he'd allow me to do more."
Hermione could only marvel at the similarities between the two brothers. They probably had absolutely no idea that they were actually so alike.
"Anyway, so, Tom wanted to duel with Jack, that much was clear," he continued. "He wanted to make a big show of it for his followers, you know? The Boy-Who-Lived was finally going to die in a duel for them all to see. I didn't - " he paused. "I didn't do anything. I just watched." He dropped his gaze, his right hand absently playing with one of his quills. "Tom forced Jack to honour the rules of a duel, before it began. I remember Jack getting a few shots in before he too hid behind a tombstone. But then - "
Harry lifted his gaze and looked Hermione right in the eye. "I mean, I get it. I get it. Jack stood up to be counted," he said. "He stood up to fight and, frankly, I think I would have done the same thing." He dropped his gaze again. "It was so weird, you know? For the first time in my life; I understood Jack."
He shuddered, as if the mere thought was blasphemy. "Anyway, they started to duel. He's not terrible, you know?"
Hermione didn't react to the underhanded compliment that he paid to Jack.
"I didn't know what to do," he admitted. "But then Jack kind of headed my way, and I pulled him behind the tombstone with me. He screamed, and I remember covering his mouth with my hand. He asked stupid questions, and I told him to shut up. I had an idea. Mum'd taught me how to make an emergency Portkey. It was actually an accident that I learned at all, and I told Jack to hold on to me. I told him, Granger. I told him. But did he listen?"
Hermione could only imagine the chaos of such a scene. To think that these boys had lived through it.
"One second, he was there, and the next, he was gone." Harry shook his head. "My Portkey skills were limited to the immediate variety, and I needed Jack there." He sighed. "But, I mean, there was an actual reason he disappeared."
"Cedric," Hermione guessed.
"I didn't even know that he'd gone with Jack to the graveyard," he said sadly. "I didn't know he was - until - " he paused. "So, Jack was gone, and it was a right mess after that. Jack was fighting from one side, and I was fighting from another. It was pretty clear that they had no idea who I was, just that there was somebody there, and it's probably best if it remains that way. I don't have whatever special powers the Boy-Who-Lived must have to have survived so many meetings with Darkness."
Hermione couldn't help thinking that that elusive 'special power' that Jack had was actually Harry Potter.
"At the time, I was so mad at him," he explained. "All he does is drag me into these dangerous battles, and then I'm expected to make sure that he doesn't die." Harry recognised that he couldn't exactly blame Jack for what happened. Nobody could quite figure out the reason behind Harry's spontaneous (dis)appearances, and goodness only knew that his mother and Sirius had tried.
Hermione just watched as he got a faraway look in his eye.
"I remember casting a Maxima Protego to get to where Jack was with Cedric. It was so loud, but so quiet at the same time. Does that make sense? Sirius says that sometimes that can happen in battle. It's so loud that it's quiet." He shrugged. "It was like time slowed. I can't even explain it."
Hermione could tell that he was somewhere else, wrapped up in the memory.
"When I reached him, he was crying. I think I was too. It was the moment I realised that Cedric was actually - uh, dead. I remember Jack saying that he killed him, and that he had to take his body back. We couldn't just leave him.
"But, because I was holding up the Shield, I couldn't make the Portkey. I remember thinking that it'd be fitting that we died together, you know? Some kind of brotherly justice, or whatever; but then I spotted the Cup. It was almost too convenient, and what were the chances... but knowing Tom. I told Jack to Summon it, and he listened." He let out an amused breath. "Death Eaters hurling the worst Curses at us; my Shield dwindling, and the bastard finally listened. It felt like forever but, in reality, it was probably just a few seconds.
"Because, the next thing I knew, we were back here, and Sirius was on top of me. At first, I thought that he was hugging me, but he was actually hiding me. Protecting me. Cedric was dead. Voldemort was back. There was no need to throw the other Potter into the mix.
"But I was in the mix. I am. Whatever causes me to go to them the way that I do; there's no saying when it'll happen, or even if there's a way to stop it. Sirius thinks that I should learn Occlumency, but Mum isn't so sure. I think she thinks that it won't work in the way that we want, though she recognises the advantages of it. She has plans for this summer, and so do I. I suspect that it's going to be very informative."
It was a sentence said with hints of excitement and apprehension. Despite the Ministry's continuous denial of the return of Voldemort; the Aurors - courtesy of Amelia Bones - and the Order were gearing up for a War that would inevitably come. They were recruiting more and more with each day, while trying to underhand the growing Dark forces.
Harry was going to make sure that he too was prepared. Now was the time. Now.
The four of them sat in silence for a prolonged moment, before Luna broke it, attempting to lighten the mood. "So, Harry, when do you think Sirius is going to propose then?"
The raven-haired wizard let out an unexpected laugh. "I have no idea," he admitted. "I think that, if Padfoot had his way, he'd have proposed like five years ago."
Hermione kept her eyes on Harry, seeing him. She was trying to work out where his story about that night and Jack's story diverged, or converged, and she just couldn't wrap her head around it. Jack's tales didn't mention Harry and, for the first time; Hermione reasoned that that was by design. At whose instruction?
The stories gave Jack all the glory, and hid Harry. But why? Why was it so important that Harry's involvement not be reported? Safety? There was no place safer than Hogwarts, with Dumbledore at the helm. So, what? What was it?
Her musing was interrupted by Neville posing a question to both her and Harry, about Potions. It was the one subject that he was terrified for, and Hermione vowed to help him through. If she couldn't face her own fears; then she'd definitely help someone else to do so.
Harry glanced at her, silently giving her the reigns to handle this one.
"Umm, check in the third line of the second paragraph of that same page, Neville," Hermione said, looking at her own textbook.
"I don't see it," he said.
After a little puff of breath, Hermione rose up and leaned over the table to point at a line in Neville's textbook. "Here, it says that, 'the octopus powder has - " she stopped at the sound of Harry's sudden gasp. "What?"
"What's that?" he asked.
"What's what?"
"That," he said, pointing.
Hermione looked down to where he was pointing, to spy the double pendant of the necklace that Harry gave her for Christmas. It was poking out through the button gap in her school shirt, dangling for all to see. "Oh," she sounded, her fingers absently reaching for it. "I'm pretty sure that you know what this is, Potter."
"I know," he said, clearing his throat. "It's just, uh, you're still wearing it?"
"I've never taken it off."
His eyes widened. "Never?"
"Never."
They just stared at each other for the longest time, the entire great big world falling away as emerald green stayed locked on hazel brown.
Neville was the one to bring them out of their moment. "Umm, hello, earth to Harry and Hermione; Hufflepuff here trying to pass Potions. Please help."
Hermione seemed to snap out of a trance, and returned her focus to Neville, giving him her undivided attention. Harry wasn't able to focus on his work anymore. Not when he knew that she was still wearing the necklace. His necklace. And the fact that she'd worn it even when she must have hated him meant so much to him that he couldn't even explain it.
Luna had to kick him under the table to get him working again, and the little Ravenclaw had to stifle a laugh at the glare he shot her.
It was only later, after Hermione and Neville had left them, that she took to teasing him. "You look lovestruck," she said, giggling softly.
"I am," he admitted. "I'm madly in love with Granger," he said, and Luna's answering smile made him blush. "Maybe so much that she doesn't even have to be in love with me. I love her enough for the both of us. She's mine."
"We always knew that, Harry," Luna said, still beaming. "I think even she knows that."
"It's not over," he said proudly.
"It never was."