"Hermione, are you sure you don't want a bite of this?" Ron asked between mouthfuls. "It's really good."
Hermione shook her head, without even meeting his eyes.
Harry grinned. "Try it with the pasties, Ron." He passed one over.
"Bloody hell." His face contorted with pleasure as he took a bite. "This is-"
"Would you two stop talking about food?!" Hermione shouted all of a sudden, getting out of bed.
Harry shifted uncomfortably on his, shooting a knowing look to Ron, who still seemed oblivious.
"But, blimey, 'Mione! Oh, bloody hell, that rhymes!" He stuffed another pasty in his mouth, and chortled.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're absolutely disgusting, Ronald."
He swallowed. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"
But, she only ignored him, and sat back on her bed with a huff.
Ron turned to exchange a look with Harry, but Harry crossed his arms. "He's not gone forever you know." He said suddenly.
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I haven't the slightest idea of who you are talking about, Harry."
He chuckled darkly. "Draco. You and I both know that you-"
"Just leave me alone, Harry!"
Ron sighed, and nudged him. "Let her be, mate."
Harry shook his head, and scowled. "Be what?! Miserable, and angry all the time? Refusing to eat anything? Crying in her sleep?" She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. "Don't bother. You think you're the only one that's up in the middle of the night?"
Hermione's cheeks went Weasley red. "I was just-"
"Save it!" said Ron. "You're my best mate, Herm-...well, my best girl mate. It's bloody depressing to see you like this." He ran a hand through his hair. "Even if it is over a ferret..."
Harry gave him a warning look. "Listen, Hermione. I know exactly what you're going through-"
"No, you don't!" Hermione shouted suddenly. "How could you possibly know what it's like...to wait for ages and ages, and he just-"
He rubbed his forehead, as if to free himself from the memories, and stood. "I felt that way when Sirius died." He said slowly. "Day after day after day...I thought he would..." his voice broke. "Come out of that curtain, and wink just like he always did. I thought he'd be there for me. I waited for months and months for him to come back. Even as a portrait, a ghost, a reflection in the mirror- anything..."
Hermione could only look at him. She bit her lip.
"But he never did..." he said finally, sitting beside her on her bed.
"But Harry..." She choked out.
Ron sat on the other side of her, awkwardly.
"He's..." she started. "He's...never coming back." She felt a tear run down her cheek, but it was too late. There's no point in ending the rain before the storm. She laid her head in the crook of Harry's neck. "He's never..." Sobs wracked her body, and everything was silent for a while.
Ron gazed at her, listening to her cries. He wrapped an arm around her cautiously. And then unexpected words came from his mouth. "I hope he does."
She got up slowly, and turned to look at him. His heart sank as soon as he saw her tearstained face. Guilt enveloped him. And then she was in his arms.
"You know, don't you?" There was no question in Draco's voice.
Aberforth sighed. More silence. And finally, he walked down the steps, leaving a bewildered Draco behind him. "Come on, boy! Before I change my mind."
Relieved, he followed suit, a victorious smirk on his face.
He led Draco into a dark, shabby room, littered with various unknown objects. 'Someone is in need of a house elf...' Draco couldn't help but thinking. 'Hermione loved house elves...' He felt a sharp pain in his chest, and blinked away the thought.
"Ariana." Said Aberforth, moving towards a large portrait on the wall. She smiled, and curtsied at Draco.
"Is that your sister?" he asked, already knowing the answer to the question.
Ariana winked.
"You know what to do." Aberforth told her. Draco furrowed his brows, as she walked away. She seemed to be in some sort of garden...and her blue frock seemed to disappear in the distance, once she left.
"How old is she?" he blurted, forgetting that she had died.
"Thirteen." Aberforth didn't show a sign of remorse, only affection as Ariana returned...with..."Who is that?" asked Draco, who peered closely at the portrait.
He was suddenly pushed backwards as the portrait hole opened, and a figure stepped out from behind it.
He looked up. "Longbottom?!"
It couldn't be. He was much too tall, and his face was adorned with many purplish bruises, and a nasty cut went down his cheek—the blood still fresh and shiny.
"What is he doing here?" Neville asked, looking Draco up and down.
'The same could be asked of you, Longbottom...' he thought, clearly showing self-restraint.
"No time for talk, just take him there." Said Aberforth gruffly.
Neville walked back into the hole, and beckoned him in. "Well, alright then."
Draco looked up uncertainly at Aberforth. What was he to say? "Thank you." Was what came out of his mouth.
Aberforth's face showed a hint of a smile. "Take care of yourself."
He walked through the portrait hole, and looked back once. And then he felt a shard of glass being shoved into his hands. And the door closed. And they were washed in darkness.
"If you ever find yourself in the grey..." Aberforth's voice echoed from behind him. "I'll be watching."
Author's Note- Whoa, I've been writing this story for a month. Don't know if that's something to celebrate, or if that just means I need to re-examine my life. Haha, just kidding. How was this chapter? Speaking of chapters, I hope you enjoyed this one. Speaking of enjoyment, I watched Prisoner of Azkaban for like the bajillionth time today. Speaking of Prisoner of Azkaban, I got really inspired to write about Sirius in this chapter. Speaking of Sirius, I cry every time Bellatrix kills him. Speaking of Bellatrix, I've always hated her ever since I discovered that she tortured Neville's parents into insanity. Speaking of Neville, it's his birthday tomorrow. :)