Chapter 17 – The Rift

Reflecting a few days later, Harry realised two things about Snape's visit: first, that he had been allowed to keep the pensieve; and second, that Professor McGonagall had not visited. This second notion really surprised Harry: surely, if she knew, McGonagall would have come to see or perhaps even take the pensieve? From this, Harry concluded that Snape hadn't told her. Perhaps he'd just forgotten? Harry knew straight away how unlikely this was, and had to conclude the omission of this fact was deliberate, something which Harry found slightly disconcerting.

The few weeks leading up to the night of his meeting with Dumbledore included what was, to Harry, a very quiet Halloween. Professor McGonagall having forgotten to book the Weird Sisters the evening was barely marked save for the traditional enormous pumpkins and displays by the Headless Hunt, watched by a very sour looking Nearly-Headless Nick. Harry, Ginny and Hermione had spent most of the evening chatting about Ron and Mr Weasley, whom were both looking increasingly tired, something that made all three of them very nervous. Ginny was particularly suffering, and Harry was not surprised that the ghosts' grizzly re-enactments of their own downfalls led to her heading back to the common room, closely followed, Harry was annoyed to see, by Matt Taylor.

Three weeks after Dumbledore's death Harry found himself spending the day in his phoenix form. He listened in on one of Hermione's lectures, visited Ginny in the common room, and timed himself to and from Hogsmeade to see which of his three flying forms was fastest (the thestral coming a distant first, predictably followed by the phoenix and then the hippogriff), before wheeling his way back towards the cottage as the sun began its descent from the sky towards the lake. Having let Dobby have a couple of days off Harry set to making his own dinner to occupy himself, something that backfired spectacularly when he managed to set fire to the kitchen curtains. After putting out the fire and eating a meagre supper of toast and pumpkin juice, Harry sat in front of the fireplace, pensieve ahead of him, clock ticking agonisingly slowly as he mentally ran through what he needed to do.

"Wand movement, incantation, concentration, wand movement, incantation, concentration…" Harry murmured, whipping his wand forward and accidentally turning the flowers on his mantelpiece into a bottle of butterbeer. Transfiguring it back, Harry edged forward in his seat, adjusting the pensieve. The clock struck nine. Harry took a deep breath, focussing on the veil room. He whipped his wand forward.

"Vita mens ponsus," he said quietly, plunging his wand into the pensieve. Instantly, Dumbledore appeared in the pensieve but, despite preparing himself for it, Harry knew something was wrong. The image was grainy and, despite the reassurance of his headmaster's serene face, it was distorted, and the speech that he was trying to make was very difficult to make out. At the same time, Harry's began to sweat with effort. He saw Dumbledore's mouth move, and just made out the words "next week", before the image flickered and the pensieve returned to its normal, shimmering, fluid self. Harry sat back in his seat, completely drained, his mind just conscious enough for him to nudge the pensieve out of harm's way before falling asleep.

*

The following week was, despite Harry preparing himself with lots of coffee (something he found most distasteful), not much better. Again Dumbledore's face came into view, and again Harry could make out few words, although this time he did catch the word "Sirius" as well as the final "next week", although, since Harry had been expecting these words, he had to admit that he might have been lip-reading.

The winter was beginning to settle in, with the first flakes of November snow settling for brief moments in large quantities before promptly dissolving into nothingness, then reappearing in differing amounts the following days. The snow seemed to be reflecting the activity by the Secret Elite: brief moments of activity each day, varying in size and manner from the small skirmishes and disturbances in wizarding towns (though Hogsmeade had been strangely quiet) to full blown muggle attacks, the worst of which being a "stand collapse" at a rugby match in Gloucester, resulting in the deaths of thirty innocent fans including two seven year old boys.

Ron was clearly suffering. Each visit to Hogsmeade brought with it more worry lines, darker bags beneath his eyes, and sadder stories. Worse still, his mood swings had become more extreme. Sullen and quick to anger, Harry was ashamed to find himself checking his watch when Ron wasn't looking. Harry had offered to rejoin the Aurors to both Ron and Mr Weasley, but both times had been instantly shot down: putting Harry in the fire fight put him at greater risk compared to the protection at Hogwarts. Harry had argued that he didn't care about the risk if it helped, but again had been refused point blank. It was a mark of just how tired he was that Ron had even said that he, as a now higher ranking Auror, would revoke all Harry's privileges.

Ron's mood spilled over when he and Hermione were at Harry's house for a late night drink. Ominously Ron had bypassed Butterbeer and Firewhisky and was downing rapid glasses of Almost-Banned-Brandy, a drink infamous for the red mist it could breed. Whilst discussing Ravenclaw's narrow defeat of Hufflepuff, a result that all but guaranteed Gryffindor a place in the final, (short of being completely torn apart by Hufflepuff), Ron said almost nothing. At first Harry assumed that it was because he had been unable to attend the match and that he was simply listening to the commentary, but the idea of Ron not taking part in a Quidditch conversation was ludicrous. It was when the subject of the Kingston Kites came up that Ron exploded.

"Hasn't the new professional season begun yet?" Hermione inquired.

"You know it has!" Ron stated, with unexpected haste. Hermione looked startled.

"Last week," Harry commented smoothly, trying to wrestle the tone back down. "It was a bit weird, all I could do was listen on the radio. I have your father to thank for that!"

"You know he's just looking out for you," Hermione interjected. "We all are!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I seem vaguely to recall that lesson I helped you teach… I must thank you for that marvellous protection you gave me…" Hermione giggled.

"Think its funny do you?" Ron interrupted violently. "People being attacked left right and centre?"

"What?" Harry was bewildered: the sentence was aimed directly at Hermione.

"Just because we haven't been seeing each other that often doesn't mean you shouldn't know what's been going on! I mean, wake up, even the Prophet is acknowledging the threat, and the second attack to take place in Hogwarts seems funny to you?"

Hermione was shaking. "But that was an accident!" She exclaimed, flabbergasted. "A misplaced Reductor curse!"

Ron let out a derisive laugh. "That's less likely than Mad Eye relaxing. You really think that, just because it was in Professor Granger's classroom that it was merely an accident? That the whip-crack after it was imaginary or just someone dropping a quill? Wake up Hermione, there's a war going on outside these grounds, something a bit more serious than bloody detentions!" Ron slammed his glass down so hard that it shattered but, rather than repairing it, he got to his feet, breathing hard, and strode out of the house.

"Ron!" Harry yelled, furious. He chased him out of the door, but by the time he'd got there all he could see was a tail vanishing into the forest. Shaking, Harry turned to see Hermione pulling on her coat. He strode over and gave her a hug which, after a moment of sobbing, Hermione returned. She gripped Harry so hard, tears rolling down her cheeks, that it felt like being hugged by a miniature Hagrid. After a few moments Harry, feeling somewhat awkward, pulled away.

"I think you should stay here tonight," he said softly. Hermione's watery eyes stared directly into his. She stumbled slightly and Harry caught her. "C'mon, I'll take the couch." Gathering herself with a stuttered murmur of thanks, Harry guided her towards the bedroom, gave her a sleeping draught from a small cabinet he kept in the kitchen, before creeping out of the room and onto the couch.

Harry felt his head swimming. He had not heard Ron yell like that since he had lost Scabbers way back in their third year. Espying the pensieve in the corner of the room, Harry did something he had never done before. He placed his wand against his temple and, as naturally as if he was washing his hair, he withdrew a thin, silvery strand. Placing it delicately in the pensieve Harry watched as, for a moment, Ron's furious face merged into Hermione's weeping equivalent, before he settled down on the couch, lighting the fire and conjuring a duvet before trying to get some sleep.

*

The end of term brought no contact from Ron, for either of them. Hermione stayed at Harry's house several other nights in the week leading up to the Christmas departure, something Harry couldn't help but notice that Ginny seemed bothered by. Eventually, on the last day, Harry visited her in her lunch break, transforming into a Hippogriff and carrying the two of them, along with a picnic basket, up to the top of the Astronomy tower.

"Well, that sure beats the stairs," she said, laughing as Harry transfigured back. "But may I ask as to why we're up here?" Harry took a deep breath.

"I just wanted to check that you were ok…" he started and, despite having rehearsed the sentence, he still struggled to finish it. "You know… with Hermione staying occasionally."

Ginny sighed. "I wondered if you were going to ask about that. I have to admit that I've found my transfiguration lessons a bit awkward, but I can understand. Ron's being a complete arse. I know why, but it just seems that everyone is tense at the moment and, well… Ron's never been good with dealing with it. I'm not jealous or worried about us or anything like that. But, well, let's face it… she IS sleeping in your bed." They stared at each other for a moment before, at the same moment, they both burst out laughing. Drawing her close Harry sat in comfortable silence, drinking pumpkin juice, relishing the slight chill in the air, until Ginny realised she was going to be late for charms, and Harry dropped her back outside the entrance hall.