"Ms. Granger, will you stay behind a moment?" Professor McGonagall called as her students were all heading off to their next class. Hermione, looking a little surprised, hefted her bag onto her shoulder and made her way towards McGonagall's desk. The usually stern professor waited until the class was empty, and with a flick of her wand, shut the door.
She sat behind her desk and sighed.
"Miss Granger, I know what is happening to Mister Potter. I know what Professor Umbridge is doing to him."
It was as if a great weight was taken from Hermione's shoulders, and she felt her legs weaken a bit, She smiled, and before she could stop herself, she began speaking very fast.
"Oh, thank god, Professor. He made me promise not to say anything, and I've been so worried about him. Whenever he gets back from detention he looks so horrible and his hand…"
"Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall held up a hand to stop the girl's ramblings. "I am aware of the issue, but I cannot do anything about it. I've spoken to the Headmaster, and it was discussed."
"What?" Hermione looked gob smacked. "You discussed it? Why aren't you throwing her out on her fat arse."
"MISS GRANGER!"
Hermione suddenly looked embarrassed. She normally chastised people for using foul language, but she had lost herself to her indignation at the moment. "Professor, she's torturing him. Why can't you do anything?
"I understand your feelings, I honestly do. I argued with the Headmaster about the problem. However, it was felt that, at this moment, it is best to let the matter go. It appears that the Ministry has all the cards, and should we try to fight the matter…"
"Harry will be expelled." Hermione sighed heavily, suddenly filled with a desire to find Umbridge and punch in her wide toad like mouth. "What about the cuts on his hand, Professor? Surely that could show…"
"That Mister Potter is mutilating himself?" McGonagall asked. She had brought up these arguments to the Headmaster just the previous evening. "Even if we managed to get our hands on the quill, it could be said that it was planted, or that whoever 'found' the quill had actually planted it to set up Professor Umbridge."
"What about Veritaserum?" Hermione asked hopefully.
"Think, Miss Granger. The Ministry is trying to silence Mister Potter. Do you really think they would allow the use of Truth potion in a matter that would make them look bad? They will throw him into prison without a trial."
"Just like Sirius." Hermione barely whispered, anger gripping her.
"Exactly."
Hermione stared pleadingly at her Head of House. "Is there nothing that can be done?"
Professor McGonagall gave a rather weak smile and opened her desk drawer. She handed over a large vial of a sickly yellow fluid to her the girl. "Murtlap." She said. "It should ease the pain, and help the cuts to heal. It would be good not to mention where you got it. Should you need more, come see me privately."
Hermione nodded, slipping the vial into her bag, and giving a grim smile of gratitude to her favorite teacher, before heading off. As Hermione shut the door to McGonagall's classroom she couldn't help feeling as if the teachers she so respected and looked up to had failed her. They were going to allow Harry to continued to be tortured.
While she truly did understand the precarious nature of their situation, Hermione thought that perhaps the teachers hadn't really tried to resolve the situation. Maybe they needed help from the outside. Someone who wasn't under the threat of the Ministry…
"Daphne." Hermione whispered and raced down to the Great Hall.
The first week came to a close at last, and Harry felt an immense sense of relief as he climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room after his last detention with Umbridge. His hand was bleeding quite freely, and Harry had wrapped a handkerchief around it as soon as he was outside Umbridge's office.
As Harry made his way back to his dorm, all he could think of was how far behind in his studies he was getting. He had missed several meals during the week trying to catch up, but his teachers seemed relentless in making the workload heavier.
However, Harry knew he could get it all finished over the weekend, and vowed to do his best to stay out of trouble so this never happened again.
He had missed the Quidditch tryouts that evening, and wondered who the new Keeper would be. He knew that Ron was trying out, and hoped his friend made it. Harry thought maybe they could manage to heal their friendship through the game they both loved so much.
When Harry reached the fourth floor, his mind wandered off of the subjects of homework and Quidditch, as Harry thought back, with a smile, to the second visit from Daphne's sister, Astoria, he'd gotten at lunch earlier that day.
Harry was a little frightened of this rather spunky twelve year old. However, his friends seemed to think she was very entertaining. Once again, she had strode right up to him, her light brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her eyes bright and determined.
"So, it's been a week." She said firmly at Harry. He had glanced at Hermione, who had suddenly focused on her newspaper. Harry saw both Ron and Neville, who had started sitting with them during the week, look up in interest.
Harry could only nod at Astoria, who folded her arms looking rather cross now. "So, why aren't you two sitting together or something?"
"Huh?" Harry asked, again looking to Hermione for help. His bushy haired friend was still not looking up, although she did appear to be shaking, which slightly upset Harry.
"Are you laughing at me?" Harry asked her. Hermione quickly shook her head, but still would not look up.
"Have you even talked to Daphne at all?" Astoria said, sitting on the bench next to Harry.
"Yes. She was my partner for Care of Magical Creatures yesterday."
"Did you ask her anything about herself? Did you learn anything about my sister?" Astoria asked, looking rather upset at his apparent idiocy.
"You don't understand. These things are…well…" Harry tried, but Astoria cut him off.
"What's to understand?" Astoria threw he hands up, nearly smacking Harry. "If you like her, be with her. It's pretty simple. I don't get why you have to make it complicated. Is it because she's in Slytherin?"
Harry shook his head.
"Is it because she's a Pure Blood?" Astoria pressed.
"No!" Harry shook his head. "I don't care about blood purity. I just don't know her that well. We haven't spent enough time together for me to really …" He tried, but Astoria was unfazed.
"Ok, look. She likes to read. Not like school books, but like poetry and junk." Astoria stared at Harry as if she were revealing the deepest secrets of magic. "She sings in the shower and she loves orchids. There, now you know her. Stop being so obtuse. She likes you, there really isn't much more that you need to know."
With that, Astoria gave a large grin, hopped off the bench and skipped away.
"Ok, what the hell just happened?" Harry asked, turning back to his friends. He didn't miss the look of disgust on Ron's face, and he felt himself getting a bit angry. Ron had been able to keep his mouth shut when the topic of Daphne was brought up, but this might prove to be too much for the somewhat volatile redhead.
Harry quickly looked away from Ron to Hermione, who was only now looking up from her newspaper, her face red and tears streaming from her eyes.
"YOU WERE LAUGHING!" Harry said pointing his finger accusingly at Hermione, who finally lost the battle and guffawed heartily. Her laughter was contagious, and both Harry and Neville began chuckling along with her. Ron, however, stabbed at his chicken bitterly watching the second year Slytherin walking away.
The rest of the day, Ron had barely spoken to him, and Harry was sure he was doing his best not to mention Astoria or give some dire warning against befriending Slytherins. It was actually a bit of a relief when they parted ways after dinner as the tension between himself and Ron was becoming nearly suffocating.
During his detention, Harry had at last been able to think on what Astoria had said. It actually worked to distract him from the now excruciating pain in his hand as he wrote his lines.
Could it really be as simple as the young girl claimed it to be? If you liked someone to just be with them? Was he even sure he liked Daphne?
"We haven't even had a real conversation that didn't involve class, really. Ok, on the train, but not since then. What if she doesn't like me like she thinks she does?" Harry had pondered these questions throughout his detention, and was surprised when Umbridge had finally dismissed him.
"Mimbulus mimbletonia" Harry said as he reached the portrait hole. The Fat Lady moved aside, allowing him to enter the Common Room. There was quite a few people still up, including the members of his team.
"Harry's back." Fred called out.
"How are you, mate?" George said, clapping Harry on the back. "Like to introduce our new Keeper."
"Cormac McClaggen" Said the boy sitting between Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnett. He was quite tall, and broad in the chest, with a head of dark blonde curls. He offered a hand, which Harry shook, feeling a bit intimidated. Cormac's hand was quite large and very muscular.
"Cormac was just regaling us with his vast Quidditch knowledge, and pointing out areas we might improve our game." Fred said cheerfully, but he rolled his eyes as he spoke.
"I see. Well, I look forward to seeing you on the field. Excuse me, I really should try to catch up on some homework."
The team all waved, and Harry began heading to the dorms, when Hermione, who'd been sitting in a chair near the stairs stopped him and pulled him aside. She handed him a large vial and smiled.
"Soak your hand in this. It will help." She smiled.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"Essence of Murtlap. You should talk to Ron, he's rather depressed. He really did horribly out there."
"You saw?"
Hermione nodded. "I went with Neville, Daphne and Tracey. We wanted to support him. Oh, Harry, he…he just sort of fell apart out there."
"Oh, Merlin." Harry sighed. "Listen, I'm sorry to ask, but would you…"
"Right after breakfast, we'll go to the Library. I'm sure we can get you caught up by dinner tomorrow. Then, you'll have Sunday, at least."
Harry smiled gratefully at his friend and hugged her warmly. This surprised Hermione, as she simply couldn't remember Harry ever initiating a hug. She tried to dismiss it, and watched him head up to the dorms, before returning to her seat, where Neville was sitting quietly.
"I'm very sorry, Neville, what were you saying before?"
"No need to apologize. He needs all the support he can get right now." Neville said softly. "Can I ask you something personal?"
"Sure." Hermione shrugged.
"Why aren't you trying to go out with Harry?" Even in the dim light of the Common Room, Hermione could see Neville blushing. She smiled softly, and reached to take his hand, trying hard not to shiver at its warmth.
"I love Harry, but not in that way. He's the brother I never had, and he feels the same way about me. We actually talked about it a few days ago. While I care very deeply for him, I just don't have those kind of feelings for him. Besides, I think I'm starting to like someone else."
Neville smiled shyly at this and nodded. "I just wondered."
"Hey, Ron." Harry said as he entered the dorm. Ron was lying on his bed, staring up at the canopy, his face a mask of grim resolve. He didn't even turn to look at Harry as he sat down. Harry could not remember Ron looking so thoroughly depressed in all the time they'd been friends.
"I heard about tryouts. I'm sorry." Harry tried, but Ron said nothing. The redhead simply kept his eyes locked on the canopy of his four poster bed.
Harry changed into his pajamas, and then conjured a bowl so he could soak his hand in the strange yellow liquid Hermione had given him. As soon as he put his hand in the rather sticky yellow fluid, he felt the burning pain dissolve. Harry couldn't help but sigh as the relief washed over him.
He opened his eyes and saw that Ron was now looking at him.
"What's that?" He asked, sounding hoarse. His eyes were red, and Harry wondered if he'd been crying at some point.
"Essence of Murtlap. Hermione gave it to me."
"Where'd she get it?" Ron asked, rising up. Harry shrugged, and Ron shot out of his bed, as if he'd been burned. He slapped the bowl off Harry's bedside table, sending Murtlap everywhere.
"Oy, why'd you do that?" Harry asked angrily. Ron looked back to Harry with concern.
"She got it from those Slytherins. Their trying to poison you. I saw them up in the stands together. I couldn't concentrate on tryouts because I was concerned for Hermione."
"Not this again." Harry groaned.
"I've tried to keep my silence this week, but enough is enough, Harry. You have got to stay away from those girls."
"Ron, I know you're angry because of the tryouts, but you can't put the blame on anyone but yourself. You just weren't good enough this year. Maybe if you work at it the rest of the year, you'll make the team next year. But you can't say you didn't make the team because Daphne was there. She went to support you."
"How do you know? You weren't even there!"
"Because Hermione told me, and I trust Hermione!" Harry shouted.
"You trust Hermione? The same Hermione who gave you that…whatever it was?"
"You mean the stuff that was helping my cuts?" Harry asked, holding up his hand to show the still bleeding wounds he'd endure during his detention. "I warned you, Ron. I warned you that if you kept acting like this it might destroy our friendship."
Ron looked as if he'd just been slapped, and his mouth started to open and close, giving him a rather fish like appearance.
"Seriously, mate. Did you not learn anything about trusting me after what happened last year? It's like you're repeating all your mistakes all over again. Only this time, it's worse. I'm sorry, Ron, but I don't want to keep arguing over this. Until I see some sign that Daphne is actually something sinister, I'm going to trust my gut. And my gut tells me she's ok."
"I can't believe this!' Ron shouted indignantly. "You're ending our friendship over a girl? A Slytherin girl?"
"No, Ron." Harry said sadly. "You are."
With that, Harry climbed into his bed, closing the curtains around him. Harry settled into his pillow, and heard Ron stomp out of the dorm, slamming the door behind him. Harry felt horrible for what he'd said, but he knew that Ron was wrong, he just knew it. He wasn't even remotely sure of what he felt for Daphne, and he knew that he loved Ron like a brother, but things were getting out of hand. If their friendship was going to endure, Ron truly needed to stop being so prejudiced.
Harry awoke early the next morning, but he didn't get out of bed right away. Instead he reflected on his week, and wondered what Sirius would think of it all. Would he have any advice to give, other than to keep his nose clean, which Harry couldn't help chuckle at, considering that his godfather was a founding member of the Marauders? Still, he felt he needed to unburden himself.
Harry threw off his blankets and was greeted by soft sunlight. Harry glanced out the window, and felt a sense of wonder as he could see the sun just beginning to creep over the distant mountains.
Harry showered, dressed, and then rummaged into his school bag for quill and parchment, before heading to the Common Room. Taking a seat by the fireplace, Harry began to write to his godfather.
Padfoot,
The first week back has been nothing short of hell. Our new Defense teacher and I don't see eye to eye on more than a few topics, and I've already had detention with her. She a little less pleasant than your mother.
Ron and I are also not getting along too well. I don't think he likes my choice in company. I'm trying to follow your advice, and I've tried talking to Daphne. She's very nice, and I've enjoyed the little time we've spent together, and am hoping to see her a bit more.
Hogwarts feels empty, as if someone great is missing, you know? I hope that you're ok, and I miss you. Hope to hear from you soon.
Harry
Harry reread his letter just to make sure that he hadn't put anything important in it. folded it, and then headed for the owlery. Harry was amazed at how ominous the quiet was in the castle at this early hour. He'd been out late at night, but so intent was he on whatever it was that he was doing, he had never really noticed how peaceful the castle was without a couple thousand students about.
Harry reached the owlery and called for Hedwig who glided down easily, hooting softly as she landed on his arm.
"Hello, girl." Harry smiled, stroking her feathers. Hedwig's bright amber eyes seemed to grow heavy, and Harry was reminded of Crookshanks when he got his ears scratched. Harry thought it would have been terribly funny if Hedwig could purr.
"I have a letter for Sirius, are you up for a flight?" Harry asked gently. Hedwig's eyes opened wide, and her chest puffed out. Harry knew she was ready, and tied his letter to he leg, before taking her to the window. With a quick nip to his finger, Hedwig spread her wings and took to the air.
Harry stood at the window, watching his faithful owl soar into the horizon, until she was little more than a speck, hardly distinguishable in the sky.
Harry began heading back towards the castle when he ran into someone.
"Oh, hi, Harry." Smiled Cho Chang.
"Hi, Cho." Harry said a bit nervously. "What are you doing up so early?"
"I woke up this morning and I remembered it was my mother birthday. I got up here as quick as I could so she would get her gift off." Cho said softly as she selected an owl and tied the parcel to the bird's outstretched leg.
"Oh, that's nice. Well, I should…"
"Harry." Cho said, finishing tying her package to the patient owl. "I haven't really had a chance to talk to you this week. How are you doing?" Her eyes were searching his, and Harry felt his chest tighten.
"Alright, I suppose." Harry shoved his hand into his pocket so Cho wouldn't see the cuts on it.
"I've heard that you and Umbridge aren't getting along."
"That's putting it gently." Harry chuckled. He thought she looked incredible in the soft morning light coming in through the owlery window. He noticed that she wasn't taller than him any longer.
"She is a bit off putting." Cho smiled at him, and Harry nodded. "S-so has Gryffindor gotten a new Keeper yet?"
"Oh." Harry said clearing the cobwebs that seemed to be forming in his mind as he stared at Cho. "Yeah, uh Corman, something or rather. I met him last night."
"Is he any good?" Cho asked, looking over her shoulder at him as she was now taking the owl to the window so it could take flight. She was staring at him through her curtain of silky black hair, and Harry felt his knees get weak.
"I didn't see. I was in detention." Harry said, his voice hardly audible.
"With Umbridge?" Cho asked, knowing full well that's who Harry had been serving his detentions. The entire school had been abuzz with the story of how Harry had called the new teacher a liar. "What is she making you do?"
"Lines." Harry said, a shadow crossing his face as he felt his hand sting.
"It's very brave of you to stand up to her, you know." Cho said, turning to face him. Harry saw something in her eye now, something that made him wary.
"All you did was tell the truth about what happened to-to…How he…" Cho's voice seem to fail her, and she turned away from him, taking a few deep breaths. Harry wondered what he should say, or do. He'd no real experience at giving comfort.
"Did he…did he mention me?" Cho's voice was soft, barely a whisper. Harry felt suddenly hollow. He should have guessed that she'd want to know about Cedric. After all, they had been dating last year.
"No. I'm sorry." He said miserably.
Cho's head nodded. She seem to regain her composure and turned around again. "I'm sorry, it's just that, well, you were the last one to see him…alive, and I've wondered…"
Harry held up his hand stopping her. "He didn't suffer. It was quick, just as it always is when Voldemort kills someone."
Harry heard her hiccup at the name of the Dark Lord, and felt his opinion of her drop a bit. He supposed he should just accept how pathetic it was that everyone cowered like beaten dogs at the name of the evil wizard, but how were they supposed to fight against him if this was how they reacted to the merest mention of Lord Voldemort?
"Well," Harry said, taking a step towards the door. " I really should…"
It happened so fast, Harry had trouble processing what was happening. He had looked up at Cho to say goodbye when she'd suddenly lunged at him. She had thrown her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.
Harry had fantasized about kissing Cho Chang for over a year. In his mind's eye it was always soft. It was always warm and intense.
This was nothing like what he'd thought it would be. She was hard, and forceful. Her lips were tight and pressed so hard against his, that he was sure he'd split his lips on his teeth. On top of that, he wasn't even given a chance to respond. Just when his brain caught up to the situation, and his hands were rising to hold her close to him, Cho released him, and ran out of the owlery.
Harry slumped against the wall, next to the door, rubbing his now sore lips, wondering if all kissing was like that. If so, he wasn't quite sure he liked it, and thought that both Dean and Seamus, who Harry had heard discussing the activity many, many times, were quite insane.
What was even more curious to Harry was that he had felt nothing when Cho had kissed him. Harry had overheard loads of people talking about feeling a spark, or electricity, or fireworks, or something when they kissed someone. All Harry had felt was pain, and a bit of sympathy for the girl, nothing more. Was he heartless? Was he unable to feel anything good? Had everything he'd heard been rubbish?
Slowly, Harry steadied himself, straightened his cloak and began making his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. He felt he needed to ask someone about the issue. With each step, Harry cursed the fact that he'd already sent off his letter to his godfather.
"She what?" Hermione looked rather astonished.
"Kissed me. Or at least I think that's what she did. It was very hard and painful." Harry said, looking to the Ravenclaw table where Cho sat with her curly-haired friend. "I always kind of thought it would be…nicer. I didn't feel anything. Did I do it wrong?"
"Having not witnessed it, I can only guess." Hermione smiled softly at her friend. "But I'm going to say no. I'm guessing she was trying to see if she felt anything for you."
"How do you mean?"
"Harry, she's a mess right now. It's obvious that she feels something for you, but she's still trying to get over what happened to Cedric."
"But why didn't I feel anything for her when we kissed?" Harry looked worried. "Is there something wrong with me? I thought I liked her. I mean, I…"
"Harry." Hermione smiled, patting his hand from across the table. "You had a crush on her. You found her attractive, but what did you know about her, other than she was good at Quidditch?"
Harry could only shrug.
"I'm sure she's nice, but I don't think you two were meant to be together."
"How do you know?" Harry asked skeptically.
"You wouldn't be asking me all of this if you were. Try not to worry about it, Harry." Hermione smiled encouragingly at her friend. "Just because you didn't feel anything with Cho, doesn't mean you won't when you kiss someone else."
Harry couldn't help but look over at the Slytherin table where Daphne Greengrass sat with Tracey Davis. A small smile formed on his face, and he nodded to Hermione, who was smiling knowingly.
"You'd better eat up." Hermione said. "You've got a lot of work to catch up on."