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//This is Parseltongue.//

Paraselenic

Interlude - Ruminations // to think carefully and at length about something

Hermione sighed from behind her Arithmancy text, brown eyes flicking over Harry as he ate. He had been acting strangely since summer had ended -- introverted and quiet, polite and calm almost beyond normalcy. She was confused in the changes to the boy she considered to be her best friend, closer to her than Ron, a brother in all but blood. The year before they had been concerned that he would lose his sanity with all the stress that the war was putting on him coupled with Sirius's death, but he had come back from his relative's house with soft smiles and bored expressions. It was like he was suddenly an adult in a way the rest of them could only dream of being.

She loved Harry as she loved her family, she always had. It wasn't his fame or his money that kept her by his side, it was simply that he was her first real friend. In primary school, she had been shunned for loving her books more than playing tag, for holding knowledge above the playground. No one wanted to be friends with the bushy-haired bookworm -- it would have ruined their chances of making other friends. Not that she had minded, really.

When her Hogwarts letter had come, both she and her parents had thought it to be a hoax. After all, magic? Really, now. There was no basis in science for the ability to pull rabbits out of hats without slight of hand, no proof of any real miracles. Her family was pragmatic if nothing else, and magic just didn't fit in with logic.

But then Professor McGonagall had shown up on her doorstep, a properly intelligent woman who could prove the existence of magic. Hermione had been in awe of the sheer brilliance and poise the woman possessed, totally enamored with the explanations of magical theory she presented. So then, magic did exist… and Hermione would be able to perform it. Her mind had spun at the possibilities.

The beginning of her first year had dampened her fervor. Though she had been thrilled beyond expression at the quantity of new things to learn, books to read, and spells to memorize, she had noticed that Hogwarts was almost just like the other schools she had attended. Children laughed and pointed at her, mocking her enthusiasm for learning, poking fun at her pronounced teeth and frizzy hair. She had hoped that magical children might be more intelligent or at least aloof enough not to stoop down to a bully's level, and the realization that they were just like all the other children had saddened her terribly.

But then Harry had stormed into her life. He had never actively teased her like the others, no matter that he just sat back and let Ron say horrible things to her. And then he had run to her rescue that Halloween night, his small stature overshadowed but the sheer size of his courage and heart. Hermione had developed quite the crush on Harry that day. Ron had 'put up with her' because Harry had seemed to like her, and she couldn't have honestly called him her friend until the end of the year at the soonest.

Her little crush had quickly warmed into a secure friendship, and Hermione couldn't help but be devoted to Harry. He had given her the acceptance she had hardly even realized she had craved, shown her what it was like for someone to care for her for who she was. He had accepted her bossiness with bare complaints and never looked down on her for her devotion to learning and knowledge.

Now, as she snuck looks at her best friend over her textbook, her heart clenched to see the once vibrant boy half asleep over his breakfast with a brooding look on his face. He had exceptionally quiet all week, though Hermione had originally put it down to the approach of Halloween, she wasn't so sure now.

Harry was darker than before. She could see past the polite and smiling façade he put up for the rest of them, she could see behind the seemingly attentive gazes and reassuring smiles. She played along with his little act, letting him continue to hide… but she saw the looks that passed over his eyes at times, the way he tensed up involuntarily when people got too close to him. He had always been a bit touch-shy and skittish, and his maturity had always been higher than that of the others in their class… but it was different now. It was not a shy air he held, it was a cautious and violent one. And it scared her.

So she watched him, filing away all she learned in hopes of understanding this man who seemed to have taken her Harry's place, treading guardedly as she tried to put together the puzzle he had become. For while he was still obviously Harry and she still considered him to be her best friend, Hermione Jean Granger never let a puzzle go unsolved.

She watched as Harry clapped a hand over his mouth to cover a yawn, green eyes watering. She was worried at how exhausted he seemed lately. It reminded her too vividly of the year before when he was plagued by visions on a nightly basis, forced to watch the torture and death of countless people. She sometimes nearly hoped this was why he acted so strangely this year, though, because it would relieve many of her worries. She knew it was wrong to hope for something like that, but in comparison to some of the other things her overactive mind had worked up, it was preferable.

"Harry?" she ventured quietly, finally letting her book lower and meeting bespectacled eyes. "Are you alright? You look exhausted. Have… have you been getting visions again?" she asked in a whisper, gaze darting around to make sure they didn't have eavesdroppers. She needn't have worried, breakfast in the Great Hall was always a loud event, despite the lack of 'morning people'.

Harry smiled softly to her, a genuine smile that took a weight from her shoulders; smiles like that had become more and more rare. "No, I just haven't been sleeping well, is all. I've… been thinking of a lot of things."

"Sirius?"

She saw the way his smile suddenly became strained and her heart broke just a bit. "Among other things," he answered slowly, eyes shifting away from hers.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry? I mean… you've been so distant this term. I worry… "

Harry waved a hand, cutting her off. "I'm fine, Hermione, honestly. I'll get through this just like everything else. Besides, we have to be on guard, Halloween is this coming Tuesday."

The witch stiffened and began poking her breakfast a bit harder, her eyes turned away from Harry's. "So something will happen this year?" She hated thinking about it. She hated knowing that again something terrible would happen on that accursed day. Despite the fact that the first Halloween in Hogwarts had brought her acceptance, she didn't relish in a repeat… and every year just seemed to get worse.

"Something always happens on Halloween, Hermione," Ron cut in, rubbing his newly filled stomach with a content expression.

Hermione watched as Harry's eyes glazed over and sighed. Ron was right, of course, but he didn't have to be so callous about it.

She frowned at the redhead. "Ronald, that was uncalled for."

"Huh?" he asked with several rapid blinks. "It's true, innit?"

"Well… yes, but that was an awfully rude way of putting it," she glanced over at Harry's far-off eyes; he seemed to be entranced with his hands and didn't appear to hear a word they were saying. "Anyway, we'll deal with it when it comes."

Ron set his jaw, and narrowed his dark blue eyes. Hermione couldn't help the slight speeding of her pulse at the uncommonly serious look. "We should be planning for it instead of just waiting for whatever happens. What if it's worse this year?"

Hermione blinked rapidly. "You're proposing we work?"

The redhead scoffed. "This is strategy, not work."

"How can we plan a strategy when we have no idea what form the attack will take?"

"Uhh… well… we'll figure out something? Yeah! We can think up things tonight… " he said, fidgeting and glancing away.

It was Hermione's turn to narrow her eyes. "Are you trying to get out of homework using Halloween as an excuse, Ronald?!"

"Don't worry about it, we'll get through this like we have every year, guys. We have DADA first, we should get to class," Harry said suddenly, getting to his feet and looking at them as he finally came back to reality.

"Oi, seriously, that Peirce is a real arse."

"Ronald! Don't disrespect your teachers! I swear, you get ruder and ruder every year… what has Professor Peirce ever done to you? He's an entirely fair teacher and is terribly intelligent… " Hermione jumped in immediately.

"I dunno, but he reminds me of a Malfoy. He's always all dreary and snooty, I hate bastards like that. And there's something off about him… "

Hermione sighed and glared at the boy as they exited the Great Hall. "You're being silly, Ron. Professor Peirce is a wonderful instructor, we should feel lucky to have such a competent teacher after last year's debacle… "

"Don't tell me you've got a crush on this Defense teacher too!" Ron stuttered out loudly causing blood to rush to Hermione's face.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

Harry laughed sincerely from where he walked in front of them, and Hermione tried to fight the smile that threatened to break her intimidating countenance. Perhaps this 'new' Harry wasn't so different after all.

Severus Snape watched as the Golden Trio exited the hall, black eyes narrowing at the casual gait of one Harry Potter, the bane of his existence. Severus was thankful that he was required to treat the Potter brat no differently while in school than he had before the shocking revelations. He could hardly hold his tongue at the occasional times when he was alone with Potter or at a meeting with the Dark Lord.

He hated knowing that the boy he had spent the better part of a decade loathing was now his superior. He hated seeing this child command such power and rank. And most of all, Severus Snape hated the minuscule amount of respect that was forming for this troublesome boy.

The night before had been enlightening if nothing else. Watching the people he had assumed to lavish the boy in attention spew out insults toward Wizarding kind had been shocking. The boy had left minutes after their deaths with a mandate to Lucius and himself that if a single soul got word of his identity that he would kill them both indiscriminately, seeming unharmed by the words his so-called relatives had spoken. The word 'freak' brought back memories of Severus's own magic-hating father doling out punishment on his mother simply for existing.

However, the boy was still Potter. Severus was not suddenly going to realize he had been wrong all these years and become the boy's friend. Severus scoffed at himself for the thought, nearly snickering aloud. Regardless of his home life, the boy still strolled around the castle like he owned it, ignoring all the rules and getting preferential treatment because of a task he had done at a year old without effort. It sickened Severus to see previously dignified wizards and witches tripping over themselves to answer his beck and call.

And yet, he did have a grudging respect for how Potter had turned out despite his upbringing. He looked at himself for an example and was amazed that the boy could still act so… normal after being raised that way. Severus himself had only become more and more withdrawn as the years went by, even after his own father was killed he had continued on the decline. He had refused to trust anyone, secluding himself away from people his own age and looking only to gain more power and prestige. Nothing else had mattered.

He remembered the bloody 'Marauders'. Black and Potter especially with their stupid pranks and low intelligence quotients. They hadn't cared about the world outside, never managed to let the fact that a war was beginning outside dampen their immature antics. Severus had always been their favorite victim simply because he was a Slytherin and withdrawn, not surrounded by others like most of the elitist purebloods. To this day Severus was sure Black had been the one to chose him out, seeing him as a perfect person to take out his rage against his own Dark family on.

The Dark Sect had been a release for Severus. He had joined simply for power, wanting more than a desk job in the Ministry could ever give. He was the youngest Potions Master since Salazar Slytherin himself -- he wanted to do something that showed the world how great he was. Perhaps it would have been different had the Dark Lord's priorities not become obscured. Perhaps had he remained on his journey to change the Wizarding world Severus would have the esteem he craved.

However, somewhere in the late seventies the Dark Lord had become more interested in violently eradicating muggles than changing the Wizarding world. The Dark Sect as a whole began making this their priority, as if a handful of magic-users could really wipe out several billion non-magical humans around the world. It was an impossibility, especially with the way the muggles were advancing in technology. They would have been wiped out themselves.

But here he was once again becoming embroiled in the Dark Sect, all due to the influence of one horrid boy. Harry Potter commanded more power than even the Dark Lord or Dumbledore did, though he lacked greatly in the experience the two elder wizards had. But Severus shivered as he imagined what the boy would be able to do with time and training, and seriously wondered where Potter planned on taking them. Was his upbringing enough to send him crashing after the Dark Lord on his plan for world domination, or was Potter going to be the one to bring them back on track?

Severus didn't know, but he was sure of one thing.

The Light didn't have a chance.

Ron wasn't an idiot. Now, many would disagree with this, and perhaps he wasn't the most intelligent of people -- his grades could attest to that. He was brash and headstrong, stubborn as a Hippogriff with a temper to rival one: a Gryffindor through and through. He was impatient and often surly, hated spending time outside of the classroom on work, and was much better suited to a professional career in Quidditch than in the Ministry like his father. However, no matter what anyone else might think, Ronald Weasley knew he was not an idiot.

Despite his hasty decisions and foolhardy personality, stratagem had always been a strong point for him. It had started with an affinity for chess in his younger years and quickly grown to everyday life. He could imagine every move on a battlefield as pieces to play, see the best steps to take to ensure victory. However, his own personality was often his worst enemy in these situations, as he tended to act before even allowing the possibilities to sink in.

The older he got, though, the more quickly the paths he could take opened to him. Nearly every situation now -- from a conversation with Harry and Hermione, to a game of Quidditch, to the battle at the Department of Mysteries -- showed him infinite steps he could take and where they would lead him. He still, of course, made wrong moves. Life was not chess and the possible moves were unlimited, therefore he was prone to missteps. However, he was quickly learning how to apply his uncanny abilities into life.

Feelings and emotions confused him, as they did most regular teenage males. He didn't understand why girls seemed to cry for no reason or what the expressions that flashed through people's eyes meant. He understood liking people well enough, whether it was platonic or more friendly than that, as he had many friends and there were several girls that he had trouble keeping his mind off of, his close friend Hermione being the foremost on that list. But he didn't have a clue why he felt things or why others did… and he really wasn't all that interested in finding out.

He understood the more base emotions well, though. He understood anger; after all, the bloody prat Malfoy pissed him off simply by existing on a daily basis. He understood fear; no he wasn't just referring to spiders, though who could honestly like the creepy little things? They were disgusting and hairy with their beady little eyes and gave him the chills just thinking of them… but he was getting off topic. He understood fear because he had been raised on fear. Fear of the different, fear of Voldemort, fear of the Dark side, fear of failure. Fear had been a fundamental part of him for years.

And he understood jealousy. Oh, how he understood jealousy. He had befriended Harry Potter on the train at Hogwarts because he was Harry bloody Potter, for Merlin's sake. Who wouldn't want to befriend him? To know your best friend was one of the most known figures in the Wizarding world? Ron had been in near ecstasy just by the thought of it. In the months and years to follow, though, he had second guessed his decision. It was hard living in Harry's shadow. Many times he had nearly wished that he had never even met the boy, that he could have had a chance to be great and not just known as 'Harry's friend'.

His feelings had culminated in the Triwizard tournament his fourth year. Again Harry Potter had gotten away with something no one else could, and again Ron had gotten left behind. It had infuriated him so much. It had been this that had led him to shun his friend and be an overall prat.

But then reality had washed over him.

Being Harry Potter was not as easy as it looked.

He had never thought that maybe fame wouldn't be fun. He had never even imagined that Harry wouldn't like the attention that he received, or that being the catalyst for everything would put a person into situations which could risk their lives. He had never even considered it to be a possibility.

But he knew now. If the Triwizard Tournament hadn't taught him that, the Department of Mysteries certainly had. Being a hero meant the expectations of the world on your shoulders, it meant risking your life in the name of people who would one minute laud your name and the next persecute you for doing exactly what they wished of you. Sufficient to say that Ron no longer wished he was Harry Potter.

But while Ron was not the most intelligent of people, nor the most observant… he did notice things others might miss because of his unique perspective. And it was because of this that he knew something big was coming. He didn't know what, but he could feel the shift in the atmosphere, the innate knowledge that something life changing was approaching. And Ron would be prepared. He would not allow others to have all the prestige this time, and he would not allow Harry to fight what was coming alone. Because Harry was his best friend, honestly, beyond the petty emotions of his younger years. Harry was his best friend and that was what mattered.

As they entered the Defense classroom, Ron was surprised to see Dumbledore at the head of the class beside their Professor. Harry halted in front of him and Hermione as shockingly untwinkling eyes met with them and Dumbledore nodded. "Harry my boy, I need you to come with me."

Somehow, Ron thought things were about to take a bad turn. But that didn't matter.

He would stay with Harry through thick or thin.

Well… he thought so, anyway.

Revised: 3/18/09