No Light Without Shadows
by Draeconin
See Chapter One for disclaimer and details.
Chapter Eight
"What are you doing here?" Draco demanded sulkily. He was still a bit put out over Crabbe's comment at the feast, and halfway blamed Harry for it.
"In case you've forgotten—"
"Yes, yes," Draco interrupted impatiently. "You are now a bona fide Slytherin. That still doesn't explain—"
"Well it wouldn't be very smart of dear old Dumbles to put me in where the Death Eaters of the house could get at me, would it?" Harry 'explained'.
"So they're going to make me put up with you the whole year?" Draco complained. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. Their relationship had been developing well enough, but a person needed their space, too.
Harry resented Draco's attitude. They had been getting along fairly well before they returned to Hogwarts. "You're mine, Draco," he said, asserting himself.
Draco's voice was low and sullen as he said, "Don't remind me." And he did resent being reminded of that damned triple vow, even if he no longer entirely resented the idea of belonging to the boy in front of him.
Harry ignored the rejoinder. "But as it happens," he said, "it's just for a couple of days."
Draco's face brightened fractionally at that news. He did need that time, occasionally, to just be alone and mull things over in his mind.
"They're converting the storage room next door for me," Harry continued. "Just think of it: we'll be neighbours!"
Draco's expression fell again. It was mostly acting, but not entirely. He liked the idea of his . . . boyfriend? . . . being close, but would that mean that he wouldn't have that alone time after all?
"Oh, don't take it so hard, blondie," Harry said with a grin. "It shall make sneaking to each other's rooms for a quick shag so much easier!"
"Harryyyyy..." Draco whinged in complaint, surprising himself. When had he become such a . . . girl? But he felt like pouting at Harry, and by the gods, he was going to do it!
With a sudden change of heart, Harry stopped his teasing. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and took Draco in his arms.
Draco melted into Harry's embrace, needing the comfort they gave him, and resenting it at the same time.
With Draco's compliance, Harry felt a welling of emotion inside him: protectiveness, tenderness . . . perhaps even a bit of fondness.
"I'm sorry, Draco. I guess being back at Hogwarts has made me act on old habits, a bit. But can you honestly tell me you don't want it?" Harry asked softly.
Draco fought with himself, but eventually gave in and shook his head. No, he couldn't say that without lying. But he couldn't admit it out loud, either. He couldn't admit to liking having Harry inside him. He couldn't say what else he wanted to say, either: that he wanted to be coddled and made love to in bed, not just to be a quick shag. True, they hadn't had real sex in a while, but their beginnings haunted his fears. He was afraid that Harry just wanted the sex. And why did he care so much?
Almost as though he were reading his mind, Harry said, "I do think it could be better if we took our time, though. Work up to it, sort of thing?"
Draco nodded, a mild feeling of contentment rising in his breast. It wasn't a declaration of love, but it was a start. Love? He thrust the thought away. Love was a weakness . . . wasn't it?
"Potter?" came a slightly befuddled voice.
They had been standing in Draco's open portal, and the inevitable had happened. Someone had seen. Fortunately, to Draco's relief, it was only Blaise Zabini – as close to being a friend as Draco had. Draco casually withdrew from Harry's embrace as though it was something that happened every day. Following his instinct to do so as quickly as possible (i.e.: jump away) would have given the impression that he thought there was something wrong with what he'd been doing: a weakness another Slytherin would be quick to exploit.
"Blaise Zabini, you know our newest house member, Harry Potter, I believe?" Draco said, giving a semi-formal introduction.
Blaise grinned at Draco. "Is that how you welcome all the new house members?" he asked wickedly. Although he'd seen and talked with Potter on the train platform, he'd spent the ride to Hogwarts getting reacquainted with last year's boyfriend. The experience had convinced him that the Ravenclaw would remain last year's boyfriend, but it had caused him to miss the discussion-cum-interrogation between Harry and the other sixth-year Slytherins. Oh, he'd seen how chummy Potter and Draco had seemed on the platform, but he'd assumed – wrongly, it now appeared – that Draco had somehow got Potter to cooperate in a practical joke on the other Slytherins.
"First years are too young for me, Blaise; you know that," Draco replied teasingly. What he was really feeling was a bit of apprehension. Blaise would probably be a bit of a test case now, since keeping his developing relationship with Harry from the other Slytherins wasn't a possibility. The sixth years knew already, and if any of the rest of them were clueless, they hadn't been paying attention at the Sorting Feast.
"But Potter?" Blaise asked, suddenly serious.
Draco looked at Harry, hesitated, then addressed him. "I think it might be better to inform him," he told the former Gryffindor.
Harry gave him a small nod and a smile, trusting Draco's knowledge of his fellow Slytherins. This being Draco's turf and one of Draco's people, he just stood aside, metaphorically, to let the blond handle the situation. He liked that Draco had consulted him, though.
Once inside, Harry cast locking and silencing shields around them. Draco didn't object to this infringement of his prerogative: a fact which Blaise noted with interest.
"You saw Potter's eyes at the Sorting?" Draco asked Blaise once everyone was seated.
"Yes," the dark-haired Slytherin replied.
Turning to Harry, Blaise matter-of-factly asked, "Demon?"
Not knowing just how the other boy meant the question, Harry replied, "Dæmentelen."
The dark-haired Slytherin's eyes widened slightly before he turned to Draco, asking, "Energy demon?" There was more to it than that, but it all tied in.
Draco solemnly nodded.
"Merlin's hairy arse," was Blaise' hushed, awed opinion. Anyone with active elemental powers was respected, but those with Energy demon powers were held in even higher esteem.
Due to Draco's briefing while at the Black mansion Harry wasn't as lost as he might have been, but he still felt he was missing something. That, or everybody was overreacting. He'd drag it out of Draco later though, rather than risk embarrassing him in front of a fellow Slytherin.
"Yours?" was Blaise' next question of Draco, giving Harry a sidelong look.
Harry was now officially confused. He was well aware of what they were talking about, but the significance escaped him.
Draco blushed and shook his head. "I'm his," was his hushed, embarrassed reply.
Now Blaise wasn't even trying to hide his astonishment. "Bloody hell. How did that happen?"
Draco drew himself together. "None of your bloody business," he replied warningly.
"You've shagged him?" Blaise asked Harry.
With a look at Draco's face, Harry replied, "As he said, it's no business of yours."
Draco's look of gratitude was his reward.
"Which can only mean you have," Blaise crowed in triumph.
"Someone finally got your cherry, eh, Draco?" he gloated at the blond. "And the Golden Boy, at that!"
"Zabini," Harry put in, a caution in his voice.
"Later, Potter; you don't know how long he's lorded it over the rest of us 'faggots' that he only topped. Superior Malfoy—"
"Zabini!" Harry said again, demandingly.
This time Harry got Blaise' attention, but only for a quick glance before he turned to Draco again. But as Blaise opened his mouth to continue gloating over Draco's 'fallen' status, something he'd seen registered in his mind and shut his mouth down. Slowly, he looked at Harry again. Gold eyes. Oh, gods.
"I think your stay is over for today," Harry said stonily.
Face rapidly paling, Blaise nodded. "Er, yes... I was just... Classes tomorrow, right?" he stammered as he got to his feet and started making his way to the portal. "Been nice to have, um, really met you, Potter. Draco? Er... Sorry?"
Blaise paused as he got to the opening. "Ah . . . Draco? The reason I came by? The Head Boy sent a message; you'll be patrolling tonight."
Harry's trunk and other belongings arrived via house elf shortly thereafter, but it didn't even begin to slow down Draco's rant against 'that great bloody arsehole, Blaise Zabini'.
When Draco's rant had finally run down, Harry asked, "What was that all about, then – him being so overawed about the elemental demon thing?"
"Status," Draco answered shortly.
"And I have it, then?"
Draco sighed. "We've already been over that, Harry."
"All right," Harry replied, "then what about that whole 'is he yours' thing?"
The blond's face tinted. "If I'd topped you, my status would have increased."
"And since it was the other way around?" Harry asked.
"You've gained status," Draco said in a low voice.
"And you?"
"I don't lose status since you were higher on the rungs anyway, but I'm rather shuffled off to one side. As long as we're together, it's considered that I'm riding on your coattails, now."
"And that was before the triple vow?"
Draco looked alarmed. "Yes, but don't tell anyone about that!"
Harry looked at Draco shrewdly. "That would make you lose status?"
Draco nodded mutely, his eyes almost begging for Harry's cooperation.
Harry shrugged. "All right, then," he said off-handedly.
Draco almost kissed him in gratitude, but restrained the impulse.
For reasons even he couldn't explain, Harry decided to accompany Draco on his rounds that night.
"So why didn't you tell me you had been made a prefect?" Harry asked.
"What would you have thought if I had?" Draco asked in turn.
Now that he was starting to get along with the blond, Harry really didn't want to answer that question. Draco didn't give him much of a chance to do so.
"You'd have thought I was bragging or lording it over you, wouldn't you?" Draco went on.
"Probably," Harry said with sheepish honesty.
They walked on in awkward silence for a minute.
Finally Harry's curiosity got the better of him. "That never stopped you before... Why now?" he asked.
Even in the dimly lit corridors, Harry could see the tint creep into Draco's cheeks.
"Draco?" he prompted. Harry had to strain to hear the blond's response when he finally spoke.
"By the time I thought of it, I'd already sworn myself to you," Draco said. "It would have been a rather pathetic attempt to restore my dignity, don't you think?"
"Do you really regret it all that much, being sworn to me?" Harry asked.
It was awhile before Draco responded.
"Yes . . . and no," he said. "I resent that you tricked me into it, but if you hadn't... And at the same time, it proved you were Slytherin material. Plus, you're a great shag," Draco added under his breath, his face blazing, causing Harry to both swell with pride, and be totally embarrassed. But then Draco was talking again, mortified that he'd let that last bit of information slip – and that Harry had actually heard it. "I'm not entirely unhappy about it, but I'm not thrilled, either." Then, because honesty seemed to be the order of the day, "We'd probably have got together sooner or later anyway, you know," the blond said.
"Oh?" Harry hadn't been thinking along the lines of establishing a relationship other than a short-term physical one, despite nascent feelings, but the statement intrigued him.
Draco nodded. "You're from Energy demon stock, and I'm from Water stock. Two very powerful elements. Very compatible. The only more compatible partners we'd be able to find would be another of Energy demon stock for you or Water for me of the same magical strength – and somehow I don't think that's likely to occur. If you haven't noticed, you and I are the strongest pupils at Hogwarts."
"You there!" Draco suddenly called out loudly. Stalking over to a statue, he ordered, "Come out of there, now!"
Sheepishly, two younger boys slunk out of the shadows behind the statue.
While Draco dealt with the young lovers who had snuck away from their houses for a quick snog, a third-year Hufflepuff and fourth-year Ravenclaw, Harry thought about Draco's words. It was true that Draco had always seemed to seek him out, and the blond was also the only one who could so easily get a reaction out of him. But it had always been adversarial. Was that attraction? Maybe, Harry admitted ruefully, if only of a very competitive, juvenile sort. Putting all that in the past, how did he feel about Draco now?
Attracted. Interested. Definitely turned on by his ex-rival's slender form. And, he admitted honestly, there had been moments since Draco's triple vow when Harry had felt very non-aggressive feelings towards the blond. Harry eyed Draco speculatively. Could it go any further? He wasn't sure, but he was willing to find out, anyway.
"Ah, I love the smell of power in the morning," Draco said facetiously as he rejoined Harry, having taken house points and sending the boys back to their respective dorms.
"It's still evening," Harry said with a sly grin.
Draco sent him a sour look. "Spoilsport," he accused. Harry just grinned.
They finished Draco's rounds with only occasional idle conversation, the rest of the time being spent in companionable silence. When Harry told him what Dumbledore had said about the appointments his new rooms would have, Draco became rather jealous. Only the Head Boy and Girl had an en suite bath and toilet; but he was very pleased when Harry invited him to share his, even though he was well aware that Harry had ulterior motives.
Draco routed out two more couples, of the boy-girl variety this time, and one boy out prowling the corridors on his own. All in all, Draco felt it was a job well done, although the time could have been better spent . . . perhaps snogging Harry.
Later, in bed, they broke the awkward wall that had grown between them, and Draco fell asleep with a very pleasant ache coming from his backside. Harry, laying beside him, kissed the blond's neck, and let himself fall asleep as well.
The next morning at breakfast Harry's new Housemates decided to test him (except for those sixth years who had already had their go on the train), making all sorts of outrageous remarks that would once have sent him into a rage. Harry set them right with a few well-chosen words, alluding to secrets each would rather not have everyone else know.
What they had forgotten was that Harry was a Parselmouth. Not only could he talk to snakes, but he could also talk to representations of snakes, so long as they were capable of any sort of animation. And in Hogwarts, non-magical representations of things were rare. All Harry had to do was talk to any snake figure, be it painting, carving, or otherwise in any area where Slytherins tended to linger, and he could learn whatever had been said there. His night walks in his past years had often proven productive that way. Of course it had been more for the purpose of trying to learn of plots against him, but he'd picked up other information as well.
Harry didn't tell them any of that. He didn't want his informants to become useless, after all.
And how had Harry suddenly developed so much self-control as not to get angry? While a member of Gryffindor House, he had been forced to hide his Slytherin attributes in order to be able to fit in, leading to a great deal of frustration. Now, although his temper was still there, he was free to use all of his abilities and knowledge, relieving the frustration and giving him more control.
Draco was almost in awe later when, after swearing him to secrecy, Harry had answered the blond's questions about his sources of information.
That afternoon in Potions, Snape was almost circumspect with Harry, eyeing the boy with both suspicion and bemused curiosity, not only for those things he'd seen and heard personally, but also – mainly, actually – because of the very Slytherin way Harry had handled his housemates at breakfast. And later, the fact that Harry seemed to have leapt light-years in his understanding of potions contributed to his suspicions. Could this be another instance such as with Barty Crouch Jr. impersonating Moody? But Snape hadn't been able to catch Harry drinking any potions, and since the Polyjuice Potion only lasted an hour, he eventually had to come to the reluctant decision that Potter was who he said he was.
All that studying and memorising Harry had done over the summer was paying off.
Harry's relations with his own year in Slytherin were mostly fairly easy. While those same relations with most of the rest of Slytherin House were usually a bit strained or awkward, and most first and second years seemed to be a bit in awe of him, there were very few instances of unpleasantness. Most of those were settled when Harry made use of his heretofore hidden Slytherin skills, or in extreme cases when his eyes turned gold. Only one had pushed things to the point of accidentally triggering Harry's Elemental abilities. That boy – Rupert Vaisey – had spent some time in the infirmary overnight while Madam Pomfrey healed his singed nerves. That rather put the wind up anyone else who may have had violent intentions.
The incident spurred Draco to start giving Harry the small amount of elemental training he was capable of giving – mostly how to restrain the energy so it wouldn't escape, along with a few exercises in energy control.
Harry's room, when it was complete, was a bit on the small side compared to Draco's, which assuaged a bit of Draco's hurt pride, but it still had a walk-in wardrobe; and the bathroom, with toilet, was very nice. Looking it over for future use, Harry thought he and Draco might find the bath a little cramped, but the shower was large enough to provide room for some very . . . 'interesting' play.
And between them, after a few weeks of researching the magic for it, they eventually managed to create a linking door between their rooms – camouflaged, of course – disguised as a full-length mirror on both sides of the wall.
"Harry!"
Harry rolled his eyes, but he was fairly caught. Hermione and Ron had been trying to catch up to him for days, but he'd managed to give them the slip until now. He'd been delayed packing up after NEWT-level double potions, and while it wasn't a class Ron had made the marks for, Hermione had – of course.
"Why are you avoiding me, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"One of Dumbledore's sycophants?" Harry replied. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I am no boot-licker!" she retorted.
"From what Harry tells me," Draco said as he came alongside, "you let Dumbledore tell you how to treat your friends. I'd say 'boot-licker' was a mild term for someone like that."
"Actually, I said 'sycophant'," Harry told the blond, cutting off Hermione's response.
Draco raised his eyebrows slightly. "Ten Galleon words, now, Harry?" he said in mock surprise. "Will wonders never cease?"
Harry growled at him. "Just wait until I get you alone, later."
Draco affected a bored expression, although he was anything but. "Promises, promises," he responded.
Hermione was about to cut angrily into this banter when something happened that left her speechless. Harry grabbed Draco to him and lightly bit the blond's neck, causing Draco to laugh. She wasn't sure which shocked her more – the erotic familiarity with which Harry treated Malfoy, or the fact that Malfoy not only accepted and seemed to enjoy it as something that happened as a matter of course, but that he was capable of such open, honest laughter.
Harry released Draco and faced Hermione again. He reached out and gently lifted her lower jaw, to close her mouth. "Does that answer at least a part of your question, Hermione?" he asked softly.
At her dumb nod, he added in the same tones, "A real friend would have ignored Dumbledore." Then he signalled Draco, and they left.
Draco figured the public display was well worth discombobulating Granger, and was smirking as they walked away. Fortunately they had been the only ones present at the time.
A couple of weeks later he and Draco were out walking, just to enjoy the brisk autumn air. Harry had invited Hedwig along, and she was flying lazy loops and circles around them, landing occasionally on Harry's shoulder for a quick caress, then taking off to investigate a promising sound or interesting shadow before returning to shadowing her owner.
They were just passing behind Hagrid's hut close to the Forbidden Forest because Harry wanted to see if he could get a clue about the subject matter of the next Care of Magical Creatures class, when Hedwig screeched in a way Harry had never heard before. Whipping around, he was just in time to see her plummet to the ground, an arrow through her breast.
"Hedwig!" he yelled, running over to her. Her fixed, open eyes told the tale. Harry yanked the arrow from her breast, then anger growing by the second, he stood grasping it tightly and stared at the forest, ignoring Draco's supportive presence.
"Who did that?" Harry shouted demandingly at the woods. "Who killed Hedwig?"
Draco put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry," he began, but Harry shrugged his hand off, and continued to ignore his presence.
Dark clouds began to gather in the sky.
"Come out—" Harry started to yell, when two figures emerged from the Forbidden Forest – an adult male centaur, with a very forlorn-looking smaller centaur following closely and clutching a broken bow. Upon closer inspection it could be seen that the smaller centaur was still a child, perhaps just entering puberty.
Harry's face now expressed shocked surprise as well as a lingering anger as he watched the two centaurs come up to him. He was vaguely aware of Draco's equally surprised features before the blond stepped behind him.
The clouds continued to gather, but the intensity had let up, and they weren't quite so dark now.
Stopping before Harry, the elder centaur gave a respectful bow, the younger following suit with a much deeper bow when the elder's tail whisked him.
"I am Depkarin," the adult said. "My charge is Chonsi. You are Harry Potter?"
Upon Harry's nod, Depkarin said, "The owl was yours?"
Finally, Harry found his voice. "Yes," he said. He gestured at the foal. "Your charge killed her?" he asked.
A quick, angered glance at the foal, then Depkarin admitted, "Yes. My apologies. I was teaching him to hunt, and as we were close, I brought him for a look at the humans. He was not aware that humans kept other animals for pets."
As much as Harry would have liked to punish the foal himself, it was little more than a child, so he couldn't justify it to himself to do so. "I trust that you've since educated him?" he asked, his voice tight with emotion.
A gentle rain began to fall.
"It has begun," Depkarin replied with strained dignity, indicating the broken bow. "It will be some time before Chonsi again earns the right to learn hunting skills."
The centaur looked at the limp body of the owl. "It is not within our power to return your pet to you, but recompense will be made."
Harry followed the centaurs gaze and quickly looked away before he lost control of his emotions. "I had her over five years. At times she was the only one to whom I could talk. No recompense can be made," he stated.
"He loved that ruddy bird," Draco put in softly. Looking at Hedwig's murderer, he was surprised to see a tear slip down the foal's face.
Evidently Harry had seen it too, because he said, "Don't be too harsh with the young one, will you?" Then he dropped the arrow, turned around, gathered up Hedwig's still form, and started walking back towards the castle.
After a moment's hesitation Draco gave a slight bow to the elder centaur, then followed Harry.
Not a few Hogwarts pupils had seen Harry carrying the sad little corpse of Hedwig to the castle, and the school was rife with rumour and speculation, wondering how the white owl had met its end. However as far as Harry and Draco were concerned they would have to make do with the rumour mill, since Harry didn't feel like talking about it, and Draco didn't feel like 'pandering to their infantile curiosities'.
But there had been one other witness: Colin Creevey had been following Harry and Draco around and about, surreptitiously taking pictures of the two in their uncharacteristic role of friends – if that's all they were. Colin had missed getting a picture of the owl's demise itself, but he'd got pictures of the arrow-punctured corpse and the meeting with the centaurs, though he was too far away to actually hear what was said. Subsequently, within a few hours the whole school knew what had happened.
Not knowing the procedure for interring deceased familiars, especially ones that were also friends, Harry reluctantly consulted Professor Dumbledore. He was afraid that if he consulted his Head of House that the man would want to harvest usable potions parts from the owl and then merely vanish the remains.
Draco agreed that it was a possibility.
Dumbledore had taken the two by private byways to a small cemetery and used a spell to excavate a three-foot hole in the ground. He then showed Harry a pile of rocks from which he could transform a headstone if he wished. Then to Harry's surprise, he left them to bury the owl in privacy. He had expected Dumbledore to stick around offering his unwanted sympathy and comfort.
Draco didn't understand placing so much importance on an animal, but he recognised that Harry did, and didn't voice his opinions. He stood by and offered silent support for his dark-haired lover. Yes, they were lovers now instead of just sex partners, although neither of them spoke of their emotions, and only demonstrated them in bed.
Almost the whole affair was conducted in silence. Harry conjured a piece of linen from some pocket lint in which to wrap Hedwig's body, and gently lowered her into the hole Dumbledore had made for the purpose.
"Goodbye, Hedwig," Harry murmured. "You were a good friend."
Then he gently replaced the soil in the hole. After a moment's contemplation, he rose and went to the pile of rocks. There were rocks of many types in the pile, from slate to rose quartz. Harry chose one of white granite which had a heavy concentration of crystal in it. He transfigured it into the larger-than-life-size figure of a white owl, an exact image of Hedwig, then carefully incorporated the words 'HEDWIG: Good friend of Harry Potter' on the base before placing it on the grave.
Draco came up behind him and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, almost the most demonstrative they'd been in public since arriving at Hogwarts.
Harry broke the unspoken rule. He turned, gave Draco a wan smile, and pulled the blond young man to himself in a fierce hug. After a moment's hesitation Draco returned it, although much more tentatively.
"I don't think I ever told her I loved her," Harry said in a low voice.
"I rather expect she knew anyway," Draco said uncharacteristically.
"Thank you," Harry replied. Then he pulled back and looked deep into Draco's eyes.
"Don't be getting all sappy with me, Harry," Draco said, seeing the look in Harry's eyes. "I know how you feel about me."
"Do you?" Harry asked softly. "I want to say it just the one time; I love you."
Draco groaned and laid his head on Harry's shoulder. "You had to say it," he complained.
"Is it so bad? To know, instead of guessing or assuming?"
Draco shook his head. "No, but . . . I'm not good with the words, Harry."
Harry tilted Draco's head up until they were again looking into each other's eyes. "Are you saying you feel the same?" he asked.
Draco just stood there drowning in Harry's eyes for the longest time as he struggled with himself. Finally, he gave up. "I don't know," he whispered. "Love wasn't something found in the mansion. But you're very important to me, and I feel things for you that I've never felt before."
Harry stared into Draco's eyes, then a slow smile stole over his face. Draco loved him.
He took one last look at Hedwig's grave, the smile fading from his countenance. "Goodbye, Hedwig. I hope you're happy, wherever you are."
"Oh, Harry! I just heard!"
Hermione. Harry sighed.
"Come to gloat, Granger?" Draco sneered.
"Keep your gob shut, Ferret!"
And Ron. How wonderful. Harry reached out without looking and caught Draco's hand as it came up with his wand.
"Not worth detention, Draco," he said wearily, "and you're a prefect." He kept hold of Draco's hand as it slowly went back down – just for the comfort factor – and addressed his former best friend.
"We're together, Ron, so either be civil or..." Harry let the sentence trail off. He hadn't the energy for a fight right at the moment.
"Or what, Harry?" Ron asked, sounding hurt. "You know what he's like!"
"And I know you're just as guilty as he is," Harry retorted mildly, squeezing Draco's hand to try to mollify him. It didn't work. Now both redhead and blond were glaring at him.
"Oh, give it up, Ron!" Hermione interjected, finally entering the conversation. "It's true!" Then she faced Draco.
"And you! You know very well I wouldn't be happy over Harry's misfortune!"
"Well, it's been very nice talking to the two of you, so we'll just be on our way," Harry said sarcastically, starting away.
"Harry!" Hermione said urgently to his back. "You... You were right. We should have ignored Dumbledore."
Harry nodded without looking back, acknowledging her tacit apology. "Still, it's a bit late now, isn't it?" he stated, and kept walking. They should have bloody well thought of that before leaving him to stew in his own juices all summer.
o~~~~~~~~~~~~~o
Betas: Ishe Leigh, Sheree Spataro. Brit-picker: Andy Smith