AN: Quidditch Fanfic Contest,
Position-Seeker,
Team-Tutshill Tornados,
Prompt- The Song of the Seven
Word Count- 1144
The Warrior
"Hi, Harry." Hermione greeted her best friend as Harry Potter entered the Gryffindor common room. The sixteen-year old young man had dark circles around his green eyes, his black hair seemed extra messy, and his robes were undone and loosely draped around his shoulders.
Harry forced a smile as he looked at the young witch. "Hi Hermione." Hermione sat on the burgundy sofa with a book open next to her, a notebook in her lap, and a quill in her hand. He approached her slowly, eyeing the clock that read a quarter past nine in the evening. "Still working on schoolwork?" Harry inquired.
"Yes, it's an assignment for Muggle Studies. Professor Burbage asked us to select a poem or song written by a Muggle and see how we can relate to it in the Wizarding World. It's fun actually. I've grown quite fond of Robert Frost." Hermione explained. "Would you like to try it?" She asked.
Harry thought about it for a moment. The last thing on his mind was thinking about how Muggle works related to his life. He doubted anything could relate to his life. His life had been a personal hell since everything boiled over last year. Voldemort had returned, Umbridge made his life at school a living hell, and worst of all he lost Sirius, the last real family he had because of a mistake that he made. "I don't know." Harry shrugged.
"Oh, come on Harry! Just give it a try. It's not like I will grade you or anything. We haven't spent much time together lately. We can work on one together if you'd like." Hermione encouraged.
Harry didn't have the heart to tell Hermione he wasn't in the mood for this. Perhaps if he appeased her, she might let him relax for the rest of the night. "Alright." He reluctantly murmured as he sat next to Hermione on the sofa. His tired eyes glanced over at the pages of his friend's open book and saw a poem. "What's that one about?" He asked.
"It's a song about gods protecting children. It's Muggle mythology. Can you relate it to your life at all? Or maybe people in your life?" Hermione wondered.
Harry read the first stanza. The Father's face is stern and strong, he sits and judges from right and wrong. He weighs our lives, the short and long, and he loves the little children. Harry sighed. He knew about his father from the stories Remus and Sirius told him, but he never had the chance to know his dad himself. Could he interpret this as someone in his life that is like a father figure? Or someone who does things in the stanza? "I guess this part could relate to Dumbledore." Harry thought out loud. Dumbledore was stern and strong, he had a strong moral center, and seemed to weigh the importance of some lives over others. But Harry couldn't recall a time where Dumbledore ever displayed that he loved anyone, not even the students at the school. He cared about the students for sure, but love?
Hermione stared thoughtfully at the stanza. "I can see that." The young witch agreed. "I would say that could be true of Hagrid too."
Harry shook his head. "I don't think Hagrid 'weighs our lives'." However, Hagrid displayed more love than Dumbledore ever could have.
The young wizard moved on to the next stanza. The Mother gives the gift of life, and watches over every wife. Her gentle smile ends all strife, and she loves her little children. Harry smiled. "This one is easy. This reminds me of Mrs. Weasley. She's always there for all of us." Mrs. Weasley was the closest thing Harry had to a real mother. She was kind, gentle, and tough. Harry had to remind himself that sometimes, Molly Weasley's love is 'tough love'.
"She would do anything for Ron and all of his siblings." Hermione agreed. "She would do the same for you and me too, Harry."
Harry read the third stanza. The Warrior stands before the foe, protecting us where e'er we go. With sword and shield and spear and bow, he guards the little children. Harry could have sworn his heart torn apart more when he read that line. "Sirius…" Harry unconsciously mumbled out. Sirius had stood before Bellatrix and protected Harry and his friends as best as he could, but in the end it wasn't enough. Hermione placed a comforting hand on her best friend's shoulder. "He wouldn't have needed to guard me if I wasn't so stupid." Harry lamented. "If I waited, if I checked to make sure, I wouldn't have gone to the Department of Mysteries. Sirius should still be here. He should still be alive." Harry should still have his 'Warrior'.
"You can't blame yourself for what happened, Harry. Sirius made a choice, just like you did. It could have happened to anyone who was in that room." Hermione tried to relieve Harry's mental anguish, but it seemed as if it was all in vain. Harry shrugged off Hermione's hand, turning his head away from her. Hermione tried again, using a different approach. "You know Sirius would be upset if he saw you like this. He wouldn't want you to dwell on him."
"What do you think he would want then?" Harry muttered.
Hermione pointed to the stanza in the poem. "Harry, look at it again. Do you know what I see? How this relates to my life?"
Harry turned back towards Hermione, eyed the stanza briefly, and then returned his gaze to her. "What do you see?" He asked cautiously.
Hermione beamed. "You, of course."
"Why me?"
"How many times have you protected those you care about? You have fought Voldemort five times now, used the Sword of Gryffindor to slay a Basilisk, protected me from Dementors, taught us how to protect ourselves, and that's only a few things! Don't let one accident undo all of the good and brave things you have done for all of us. Harry, you're our Warrior."
"So, are you saying Sirius would want me to replace him?" Harry questioned.
"Not at all." Hermione quickly denied. "He would want you to do better than him. Sirius would want you to help others and stand up for what is right. He would want you to be our protector."
Harry never thought about it that way. Sirius wouldn't want Harry to fall apart, not when everyone was looking at him to put things right. Even at the lowest point in Sirius's life, he tried to do what he could to protect those he cared about most. "Hermione," Harry started.
"Yes, Harry?"
"Why are you always right?"
Hermione laughed. "It's what I do, Harry. I drink pumpkin juice and I know things." Harry chuckled, which was something Hermione had not heard in a while.