Disclaimer: Not mine.
Chapter Nine: A Look Through Biased Water
Author's note: Thanks to RebelRogue127, Onions, ShdwKatX, and everyone who's stayed with the story and reviewed, you all are awesome. Sorry the next update took so much longer that I thought it would. Second note, I might or might not include things from book 7, if I do, I'll include the proper spoiler alerts.
XxXx
Luna decided upon a closer glance that darker bits were not-quite-soft. Well, maybe under the stickiness they were soft. Probably without the ink they'd be soft again. Their usual state was sweet rebellion to Luna. They were fierce and wild, yet soft and stirring. She liked the feel and glide of them across her hand… It was kind of like-
"Luna, we are studying, do you think you could kindly remove your fingers from my hair?" Hermione's face was pink as she spoke, and that pinkness deepened as her comment drew a couple amused looks from a couple tables over.
Luna smiled happily; she rather liked studying with Hermione.
They'd been studying for awhile now, Hermione's wetly ink-blotched hands paused in scratching her notes into her parchments, in order to secure her hair away from the clasping fingers of the girl sitting next to her.
In Hermione's patiently waiting silence, Luna shifted a bit closer on the bench and reached across the other girl-past her well guarded hair as well- and grabbed the top book off of the impressive pile which Hermione had already carefully considered and gathered.
"What do you think I should look for? Is this a charms' book?" Luna, ignoring the title page, started randomly flipping through the new book, "…Hum…"
Hermione's eyes widened as she took in the new danger that her carefully bookmarked and denoted pages were in, "Eh, hexes, Luna. Hexes only from that one, I think…" she turned the book to a proper starting place, muttering softly as she focused not upon the smell of grass that filled her nose, "I have them all marked…Yes pages 2023-2045 looked interesting…"
Then Hermione hastily went back to her own book and jotted down more notes.
Scratch. Scratch.
And was interrupted moments later by the feel of her hair twirling around Luna's fingers. She ignored it.
Scratch. Scratch.
She was here to study, after all, even if some people can't seem to focus for longer than a minute.
Then she felt a slight tug.
Hermione sighed, and rubbing her eyes with a back of a sore hand, looked resignedly over at where Luna was smiled in the harsh lighting of the library.
"Can we focus on the task at hand, please? We don't have much time left at all, and I've still got simply loads of homework still to do back in my common room, and this pile…" Hermione grabbed at an irritate tentacle of hair that was determined to get in her mouth. It was much too bright and hot in the library today, and she thought she could feel her hair frizzing... "We don't have time for-"
"You have ink in your hair. It's pretty." Luna tilted her head back to her book and added more notes to her parchment, blotting them badly with a couple fingers.
"I cannot have," Hermione paused, grabbed at her hair, and grimaced, "Ewe… Eh, Luna be careful! Do not dare get that ink on your books… Here." She needed to get that girl a proper pen.
Hermione took Luna's hand quickly, and placing her handkerchief in it, watched carefully as the other girl rubbed her fingertips across it.
Quickly over the idea of cleaning her own fingers, Luna turned slightly in her chair and with a light smile traced Hermione left temple with her eyes, lifted the handkerchief, and leaning over towards the other girl, lightly blotted at an inky section of Hermione's hair. Frowning slightly, frustrated, the other girl turned to Hermione, helpless, and pouted. "It's not coming out."
Hermione barely heard her. She was too busy erasing highly inappropriate ideas from her head involving her, Luna, and flavored ink. Where do these thoughts come from? But she could no longer ignore the scent of grass, books, sunshine, and something light that seemed just so, well, Luna.
She turned a bit in her chair, but that could have been the worse thing she could do, because now she was facing the other girl, who simply leaned in even closer, the girl still had her hands in Hermione's hair, and didn't seem to notice the effect that she was having on the older girl. She was absorbed by ink.
And the girl was probably fixated once more on her hair as well, which normally would be quite bad. But at least then she wasn't noticing how the color in Hermione's skin heightened the closer the girl leaned forward or how Hermione's hands dropped so naturally to her waist-to steady the girl of course- Hermione felt hot again.
The girl was all sweet angles and softness leaning up against her; Hermione was captivated, flustered, and not entirely sure how she had gotten from studying sedately to here with this girl running her fingers through her hair. And hot. She was hot. And Luna was so focused, so, well, pretty, and so close. Very close.
A little too close.
Much too close. Hermione shifted slightly in her seat, but could seem to move away.
Hermione smiled weakly up at where Luna was quite happily combing and twirling the coppery-brown hair around and through her fingers.
Then Hermione remembered the other people in the library, and blinked several times. "I'll, eh, I'll be okay, Luna. Handkerchief, please?" Hermione just out of reach of Luna's fingers.
Luna smiled, all dreamy and content, and stuck the handkerchief deep in her pocket. "I'll keep it."
Hermione kind of stared at Luna for a bit, still collecting her scattered thoughts away from where they were not allowed to go. Hermione dropped her gaze and nervously started shuffling parchment.
She was supposed to be taking notes right now? Yes, notes. For the DA.
Luna smiled at Hermione once more, "Hermione?" Hermione paused and silently looked up.
"You should take a shower."
Stricken, Hermione let her hot face drop to the tabletop. Yes, she should take a shower. A cold one.
Hermione didn't move until she knew Luna had left the library.
XxXx
Earlier that summerOne unpleasantly muggy July afternoon saw one lone Harry Potter shifting hotly from where he was leaning up against one of the old decrepit sofas. He could swear that the musty walls of the library were swelling in soggily around him. Grimmauld Place was an entire reality away from what it had been last summer. It had let itself become smaller now, without all the Order members popping in at all hours of the day and night to require additional space.
Without any development in the hunt for the remaining horcruxes, there wasn't much for him to do. He had no idea where they were. He was no farther along now than he had been right after Dumbledore's death.
He felt like he was missing something. He was stuck in this house, the only one safe to stay in it now, and he was tired of feeling like the house was, eh, staring at him.
But regardless of creepy, old houses, he still didn't know who R.A.B. was or where he might have stashed the actual locket… and he was likely a little depressed. And sweaty. And it probably wasn't healthy to take more than four showers a day.
There was a war going on, and the best he could do was read up on old archaic magic (of dubious use or origin), and look through all the old knick-knacks that old family houses seemed to have dripping from their seams.
What was the point of sweating in the wet heat anyway? It was annoying. And it didn't do anything for him except make him cross, which only distracted him from anything of use.
He couldn't wait to turn 17 just so he could cast a simple cooling charm already.
And early July really was a disgusting month now since the dementors were breeding again, sending sticky furls of fog throughout the area and cities. Depressing too as Ron would say.
If Ron was here. If he'd been able to see either of his friends since the term had ended. They hadn't needed the additional security of their own hideout, so the two of them had stayed close to the Order in order to gleam additional information deemed 'too adult' for them. So far all he had really heard from either of them was that Ron was occupying his extra time with quidditch and that Hermione had already finished her homework. Ironically, so had he, what with no distraction (outside of his own making anyway) and no uncle to beat the shit out of him at the mere glimmer of magic.
More communication than that was too dangerous, right now. The Death Eaters were on the move, so everyone thought, but no one really knew what they were doing or where.
Heh, someone was supposed to stop by and check on him in a day or so. Tonks would be nice to see.
But until then, Harry was reading old defense books and going through old parchments, random documents, ect that had been left in old, musty heaps in the library. The first was useful, and with any luck the second might provide a clue or two as to the horcruxes.
Harry gave up drumming the wooden floor with his wand and headed to the kitchen for a sandwich. It was a bit late for lunch, but he could take a stab at the top shelves after he ate. The books up there were suitably viewed with a side of nausea, and there was nobody to stop him anyway.
XxXx
The visit came and went, though it wasn't Tonks but Mr. Weasley who stopped by shortly to drop off a cake from Mrs. Weasley. Another mixed blood family had been badly hit by Death Eaters. And an outlying county office of the Ministry had also been hit, and several non-Order aurors had died. For now the Ministry was more or less holding.
Later that evening in the library, the Daily Prophet had had more to report on the Death eater's activity, but none of it was good, and most of it seemed to be more panicked speculation than anything else.
And Mr. Weasley hadn't been able to stay long, and with a quick admonishment to keep in the house, he had flooed out quicker than he had come in.
It was a silly request; with no leads Harry had nowhere to go, and no reason to leave. He could only hope that Ron or Hermione turned up something, or that come fall, perhaps Hogwarts would shed some of her secrets.
But for now Harry was once again in the library, sitting under the dim light, with piles of mildewed books teetering about as he stared stupidly at them. He'd never been quite as literate as Hermione, and he didn't understand half the points in the old text and he couldn't read half the script in old documents. Maybe he'd send it all to Hermione. Surely she'd finished with the last bunch by now?
He'd been at it all morning and half the afternoon, but didn't really have anything else to do. Granted, death eater activity was up, but as much as he might want to be doing something… The horcruxes were more important. Besides, without a well-placed spy, the Order didn't know anything much at all. They were barely keeping up with the death eaters at this point. It was scary to think about just how useful Snape had been. Too bad he was a murderous, greasy traitor.
It seemed, much for the worse anyway as far as Harry saw it, and the Order was stretched thinly as it was. Harry really wanted to be out there, just doing something. But even he had to admit that if he were to do so, the bodyguards that the adults would probably find necessary would make the whole thing impossible and pointless. He was very much stuck.
And so he sat there on the floor where it was cooler, read old books, and thought much too often about where the remaining horcruxes were.
And that was the way it was, for now. And even Harry had to admit; the real problem was that there wasn't anything to do. The Order could go anywhere he could go, and he had already sent them to several different places that he had seen in Dumbledore's pensive, and several more that seemed like a likely hideout for a dark wizard's soul shard. None of it had come to anything.
So he was stuck in this house, probably until the war escalated more and it was no longer safe… or Hogwarts started back up. He didn't even know where the new headquarters were, had only been told that this could be made into a safe location to hide him, and a bigger location for the headquarters with some space for conditioning and training.
But what was he doing? Outside of his extended summer assignments, he wasn't in any real training. He was stuck at Grimwauld's Place. They had him leave Hedwig at school for safety considerations, so outside of letters that he could pass along through his visitors (Mr. Weasley got a letter each for Ron and Hermione), he really was in hiding. From everyone.
But considering that the school year had ended in a miserable kind of chaos, maybe he really didn't need any more letters filled with heartfelt reminiscences of Dumbledore. He had only shoved everything in his trunk, come here, eager to use the library, and get started on the next phase of the war.
Of course, that hadn't worked out as planned. And so now here he was, reading a top-shelf book on the five different magical energies and how best to twist them to do your dark, evil bidding. And yes he was mainly making more notes for Hermione to transcribe for him.
But at the end of it, he'd found himself in a deserted former headquarters with no one around, the Daily Prophet thrown through the fireplace several times a week for information, and no leads whatsoever. A prison of sorts, though a very safe one.
They had levied Dobby's help to keep him well and tidy here in this little house. Dobby to stop by several times a week to cook, clean, and do whatever house elves were assumed to do.
And Harry had found that it was also Dobby who could fetch something that it had taken him three weeks after Dumbledore's death to realize that he wanted.
The pensive, the one that Dumbledore had secreted away the memories of Tom Riddle in, still had other silvery strands of memory in it. Dumbledore hadn't finished training Harry; he couldn't have because Harry knew that it held more than he had seen. And now, Dobby, who had spent weeks trying to find and then access the missing pensive, finally had it. Dumbledore had indeed guarded it well against human means, but it seemed that there was little that Hogwarts itself wouldn't let one of its house elves into.
Which was kind of frightful, really.
Soon, Harry was sure, he would have more information to go upon in his search for the horcruxes. He dropped his head down onto the sofa cushion behind him. He needed that information to lead him in the right direction.
XxXx
Several nights later saw the same Harry Potter a bit sweatier and thinking even more fondly of a cold shower as he sat at a now mostly bare table bearing one old pensive in the now well locked and warded library. The house had sat empty of other people now for days. Voldemort must be keeping the Order quite busy, though according to the papers at least they were holding their own for now.
How long that would hold true was a question that was on everyone's mind. There was no spy now to report the lotions of the other side. Nothing. As little liked and often despised the man had been, he had seen to it that he had been useful right up to his bitter betrayal. It still made Harry's blood boil, but what could be done?
Nobody had seen Snape since his escape in the spring. It was rumored that Malfoy was dead though. As much as he might have thought fondly of Malloy getting his due, Harry wasn't sure what exactly he thought of that. So he tried not to think of it at all.
But all that wasn't so important now, it was time to move forward. At this point, he was willing to put up with anything to get himself closer to his goal.
Harry stuck his head in the pensive and let himself be swept away.
XxXx
AugustA blue streak shot just pass his left shoulder, sending him clumsily tumbling to his right. His shielding charm quivered a bit, and he hurriedly focused upon shooting his next hex nonverbally. Aiming behind himself, he turned and shot towards where he had last seen his opponent in the makeshift dueling studio. There wasn't anyone there now.
As he wasted precious seconds trying to locate the other man again, he ducked once more and fortified his shield. But next hex came at him from behind, throwing him against the back wall.
Sweaty and out of breath, Harry sent two hexes, one after the other, behind him and then a little to the left. He heard an intake of breath behind him. The second one hit, though it was unlikely it had gotten through Snape's shields. Nothing of his hexes had managed that so far.
But it was a good distraction, and Harry moved quickly out of range of both Snape and of the hot sunlight coming through the windows of Grimmauld Place while he prepared for his next shot.
His next spell turned the stone floor under his opponent to slick, icy glass. He heard Snape go down, and took a second to fortify his failing shields once more. He needed better shields.
Suddenly he felt a sudden lack of air surrounding him and then massive pressure bearing down upon him, forcing him to his knees. He raked his brain for the counter curse, he'd studied it only yesterday, and then fatally cast the wrong counter curse, and as he fumbled to get the right one out he felt his wand wrenched out of his right hand. The proper form of the counter curse came a moment later from across the room, and Harry collapsed into a heap upon the converted basement floor.
Ten footsteps later, his wand was dropped unceremoniously in front of him.
"Get up."
Harry moaned, but jumped laboriously to his feet, to begin the duel anew.
Quickly he threw his battered shields back up, just in time to hear "Igneus procella" come flying blindingly at him from across the room.
Wicked, dark energy blinded him as it threw him once more onto the hard floor. Even the air felt burned as he forced it into his lungs.
He hadn't been ready, and now he could barely see through his streaming eyes. But that wasn't new when it came to dueling with his professor. Former professor.
To save himself from what Snape might have to say about what he had let that last little spell do to him, Harry jumped up, gathering his rippling shields around him and hurtling a burn hex back across the room. He loved fire spells when they weren't being hurtled at him. Even if they were technically dark magic.
His head hurt and so did his back, but he couldn't focus upon any of that right now, he got ready to parlay and threw more power into his tattered shields as he ducked Snape's next hex.
The training continued.
XxXx
Current"Igneus procella!" Harry adverted his eyes and shot the dark stream of molten fire towards where Ron was using a large, dry tree stump for shelter, and then turned to where five feet away, Ginny and Neville were sparing with Hermione and Padma Patil.
The air was thin and hot, but Hermione was holding her own with her customary textbook precision. Patil, on the other hand, had a tendency to favor spells with too many syllables, which were hard to get out when the high altitude had you huffing for breath.
He grimaced as he watched Ginny nail a turquoise welter hex right against Patil's shiny headgirl badge. She went down tumbling, leaving Hermione to deal with not only with the vines that Neville had set upon her but also with Ginny who was already refocused and setting up her next hex.
Harry quickly rounded the small group to get better aim and threw an oil shield at Ginny to block and rebound her flash hex back to her, shattering her shields and sending her tumbling but not down for good. Neville had been standing too close, and felt most of the recoil as well. He went down.
Harry called quickly for his team to regroup off to the left, to charge into the new hole in other team's defense line before they had a chance to seal it.
With three of his four team mates gathered close to him, they charged quickly across enemy lines and then ran full tilt to where two members of the other team were left guarding their flag.
Luna Lovegood and Parvati Patil. Luna sat in the back corner of the small clearing that served as her team's base, Harry wasn't even sure she saw them all break into the clearing. Parvati, who was standing a bit closer, did see them, and sent a bright red flare thundering up into the air directly above her. Harry glanced around quickly for their black and white flag, and then scanned across the clearing again. He couldn't see it. He tried summoning it. Nothing.
Where was the flag?
Ginny, Neville, Seamus, already following them as they had breached their line quite noticeably didn't seem surprised by the lack of their flag as they came suddenly into the clearing.
Skirmishing broke out anew.
Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown dueled Neville and Ginny. Hermione kept Seamus Finnigan busy, and Harry parlayed Parvati while he looked around wildly for the flag.
He couldn't find it, but he could see Luna still sitting rigidly and ignoring the battle unfolding in front of her, focused instead above her. Harry could see nothing above her.
She was still behind Parvati. In fact as Harry dueled, no matter where Harry leapt or how he moved… Parvati kept herself between him and Luna. And the two of them had been left together to guard the flag. And only one was actually guarding while the other didn't seem to be doing much of anything at all. And Luna had always been one for odd magic.
Motioning falsely to his left, he quickly dodged right around his opponent and set a stunning hex to Parvati's back where her shields weren't at full strength. She went down, letting him send a disarming charm quickly at Luna, who hadn't even a shield charm up. Her wand scattered across the ground away from her, and as she grabbed madly about for it, Harry saw something falling chaotically down threw the sky.
Harry ran as the flag plummeted, spiraling faster than gravity would normally allow, and his lungs bursting from the effort and lack of oxygen, he reached the flag's wild downward trajectory and grasped the length of the throbbing flag in his hand. It was hot.
He collapsed upon the ground, breathing heavily.
The game now over, the Room replaced the forest scene with their usual assortment of low tables and couches which everyone readily plopped down upon. Harry struggled up and towards his spot beside Neville who had led the other team.
Ron's robes were still smoking from where the hex had slighted him, and Padma Patil looked a little dizzy, but other than that and a few scattered scratches and cuts, everyone looked pretty good. Their 'battle' had certainly been exciting.
Harry plopped down tiredly, the hot shaft of flag in his hand the only remnant of the previous activity, as everyone started excitedly talking about how everyone had done and what they would have done next time. Harry just shared a goofy grin with Neville and then handed him his flag.
XxXx
Several nights later saw the 7th year girl's dorm empty save for two people.
"You know Parvati, I wasn't sure at first about these new Weasley nail polishes, but the chocolate's rather good." Lavender Brown sat upon somebody else's bed with a bare foot propped up against a bedpost.
Parvat Patil sat upon her own bed nearby, painting her own nails cherry red, "I think Ron is more fond of the watermelon one though." She giggled.
Lavender smiled distractedly at that, and regarded her freshly painted toes. "I think he'll be fine…"
Parvati laughed, "I'm sure he'll-" Parvati's eyebrows furrowed as her eyes swept across something strange in the window, and thoughts about Ron's sexual preferences pushed aside, she walked silently over to it.
Hands barely touching the windowsill, Parvati gazed, completely transfixed out at the billows of smoke rising out against the shadows of the night sky.
Lavender turned her head as well and soon joined her friend at the window.
The forest was on fire.
XxXx