A/N) Apologies that this chapter is shorter then what I've been posting lately, but it was a good place to end it. Secondly, I have finally finished chapter 66 and am currently writing chapter 67. Due to the fact that I am no longer following my plan, I am finding the story more difficult to write, however I do like where I am going. My problem at the moment is how much of the Deathly Hallows plot do I include? I'm sure I'll work it out. The good news is that I do know how this story will end. It's just getting there. :)
Chapter Sixty-Two: Comfort
Thursday 21st January 1996
The next Potions lesson rolled around quickly. Harry had been contemplating Sirius' advice and had decided against talking about his mother to Professor Slughorn; it would be too difficult for him to do so as he didn't really know her. He figured that as Voldemort must have been a favourite of Slughorn's and had easily gained an answer from Slughorn, that it would be easy for him to do so as well.
"I think this is a bad idea," whispered Hermione into his ear as it neared the end of the Potions lesson. He had dutifully told both Ron and Hermione about the fragmented memory he had seen and what he had been asked to do. Ron had been all for him just asking Slughorn, however Hermione had told him he needed to plan the moment carefully, but he disagreed.
Slughorn was walking between the tables, inspecting each potion, making notes on a small clipboard and as he neared Harry's table, Harry steeled himself. He had made sure to do the best he possibly could with the potion they were brewing today, so he had concentrated, more so then he had ever done before, in order to get the best mark possible.
"Well, what have my two star pupils done for me today?" asked Slughorn as he bent over Hermione's stewing pot. He wrinkled his nose, only slightly. "Very good Miss Granger, an O to you." He turned towards Harry's cauldron, lifted up the ladle and gently stirred it around, causing colours to shimmer on the surface. "Oh, oh, oh my, that is magnificent! You truly are talented dear boy! That is an O for you, and may I add, probably the best brewed potion in the class today?"
Harry's eyes widened. He was surprised, that despite all his hard work, that he had beat Hermione. Usually it was her whose work was deemed the best in the class. "Really?" he gasped.
"Yes, yes, your mother would be very proud of you, my boy!" Slughorn beamed.
"Thank you, sir," replied Harry. He was really fond of my mother. Maybe I am approaching this the wrong way? He trusted Sirius' advice. But how can I talk to Professor Slughorn about my mother without knowing her? He swallowed; indecisions.
"Come on, mate," said Ron, "are you coming for lunch?"
"Err, yeah, sure," nodded Harry. He picked up his bag and swung it over his shoulder. "Go on without me. It's worth trying, right?"
"Go for it," urged Ron.
Hermione rolled her eyes, a frown on her face. "It's not going to work."
"Honestly, Hermione," began Ron, "if he doesn't try, he'll never know!"
"I still think Sirius is right," she said, moving towards the door.
Ron glanced back at Harry, shrugged his shoulders and followed his bushy-haired friend out of the classroom, leaving Harry alone with Professor Slughorn, who was riffling through some papers that were stacked upon his desk.
Cautiously, Harry approached the desk, his stomach dropping below his knees. Why did it feel his current approach was wrong? Breathe in, Harry. It's just a question. He's not going to snap at me for asking. "Professor, I wanted to ask you something," he said, slowly.
Slughorn looked up from the paper he was reading and searched Harry's green eyes. "Ask away, my dear boy, ask away."
So far, so good. "Sir, I was wondering what you know about Horcruxes?"
Slughorn's face instantly paled and Harry knew the simple ask and answer question would not work. "What did you say?" whispered Slughorn.
Harry swallowed, determined to carry on; maybe he could convey how important he was, though how could he do that when he didn't know why the memory was so important. "I asked whether you know anything about Horcruxes. You see –"
But before he could continue, he was caught off as Slughorn vehemently demanded: "Dumbledore put you up to this, did he?" he accused. "He's shown you that memory, hasn't he?"
"Yes," replied Harry, deciding to not lie. What would be the point of it?
Slughorn was dabbing his face with a white handkerchief. "Yes, well, if you've seen that memory, Harry, you'll know that I don't know anything – anything –" he stressed, "- about Horcruxes."
"Sir," Harry tried again, "I just thought there might be a bit more to the memory –"
"Did you?" shouted Slughorn. "Then you were wrong, weren't you? WRONG!" He was shaking his head, grasped his briefcase and marched from the classroom, muttering under his breath, "I knew if I came back here, Dumbledore would attempt that. The sheer cheek of it all! I thought I'd heard the last of that memory nearly three years ago!" And then he was gone, his words drowned out by the distance between them.
Harry stood in the empty classroom, bewildered. "Three years? That was roughly at the end of my second year..." Dumbledore suspected and tried to get the true memory but couldn't. But what made him go and see Slughorn three years ago?
"Our sources indicates that Voldemort has gone to ground and is staying there... for now. He also continues to believe that he knows the entirety of the Prophecy, when he does not. " Dumbledore's eyes trailed around the table, meeting each and everyone who sat at the kitchen in Grimmauld Place. Among them were Sirius, Remus, Snape, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Bill and Percy Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones. "We can only prepare for when he will emerge again because he will do so when he learns, inevitably, that he doesn't have all the answers concerning the lost Prophecy. He has lost his most valuable asset to Azkaban prison. Severus, have you any news?"
The former Potions Master shook his greasy head. "No. I have heard nothing regarding his future plans. Leverg's mission was to watch Potter and report back on any unusual spurts of magic... As far as I am aware, she heard nothing. I believe he is planning something, other then what we already know, but what it is, I cannot find out without putting myself at risk."
Dumbledore inclined his head. "I accept that you have limitations. I expect he is waiting for the bomb to fall meaning until the student tasked to kill me fails, he will remain hidden."
"What do you want the Aurors to do?" asked Kingsley. "We are training candidates to boost our numbers. We could start raiding known sympathiser's homes for any signs of Voldemort. We would have authorisation as we are in a state of war."
"No, I do not think that is a good idea," replied Dumbledore. "Concentrating on training the candidates must take first priority. We need as many Aurors as possible ready to fight because the end is coming. They cannot be unprepared." He met everyone's eyes around the table, his kind, intelligent eyes burning the knowledge into them that they must all be prepared for what was to come. The world was darkening; they could not risk fooling around searching properties when they needed to train the brave young men and woman who had been accepted into the Aurors. Their survival and ability to fight was more important for the moment.
"I told you it wouldn't work," said Hermione, as Harry climbed through the portrait hole.
"I kind of had a feeling that it wouldn't..." said Harry, and then recited what had occurred between him and Slughorn. He sighed when he finished recounting. "I guess I just don't want to talk about my mum to him. I don't see how that would help."
"Neither can I," agreed Ron.
"It's simple," explained Hermione. "You mother was a favourite of his, he probably didn't like that she was killed in such a horrible way. Maybe what he knows can contribute to Voldemort's defeat but he doesn't know it... instead it sounds like he is ashamed of what he told him about Horcruxes and wants to hide it so that knowledge doesn't fall into the wrong hands."
"But why keep it from Dumbledore?" asked Harry.
Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know."
"Maybe he's afraid Dumbledore will use that knowledge in the same way?" theorised Ron.
"Possibly," conceded Harry, flopping himself down into one of the Gryffindor arm chairs. It was still lunch hour, however Neville had explained to him in the Great Hall that Ron and Hermione had gone up to the dormitory for lunch, after grabbing a plate of what was on the table. Harry had done the same, and now sipped at the soup he had selected. "I think I'm going to have to talk to him about my mother..."
"I think you should wait a while," suggested Hermione. "At least a week before you try again. Professor Slughorn reacted like that for a reason and whatever it is he is going to be on the lookout for you to try again."
"Great," groaned Harry, closing his eyes in exasperation.
Saturday 23rd January 1996
She had escaped to the bathroom to be alone, but she hadn't expected Ron Weasley to track her down. She had expected Harry to do so, but not the boy, if she was honest with herself, had a crush on. "Go away." She didn't want to talk to anyone; it was one of the reasons why she had chosen Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to hide away in, no one used it anymore since it was her favourite haunting place. But of course, someone must have seen her go in and told Harry or Ron.
"Hermione... we're worried about you. We haven't seen you all day," said Ron, stopping outside the locked cubicle Hermione had barricaded herself in.
"I don't want to talk to anyone," she said again, trying to reinforce her words, but failing miserably. Truth be told, she liked that Ron had come to find her.
"If you tell me what the matter is, maybe I can help you?" continued Ron.
She let him wait for her answer, her mind running through the possibilities that could happen if she told him why she was in here, crying her eyes out. Would Ron understand? Would he laugh at her? Gingerly, she stood up from the toilet that she had been sitting on and unlocked the door, stepping out of the cubicle to see Ron standing there, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, his Quidditch robes slightly muddy from the practice he and Harry had been participating in all day. She wiped her red eyes with the back of her hand. This was going to be difficult but the choice had been made and she would tell him what was bothering her, what had set her off on today of all days.
"Do you want to sit down?" asked Ron, tentatively, and then reddened as he realised that in the girls bathroom, there really wasn't a suitable place to sit.
A smile tugged at her lips. He did ask some of the stupidest questions and she loved him for it. Much as he got on her nerves, she couldn't help but like him. "My parents are in hiding for their own protection. I'm not allowed to see them. I've already been told that it is too dangerous to see them next week, so they've got to stay in hiding." She sniffed, her eyes welling up once more. "Today is my mum's birthday. Every year I send her a present by owl post, now I can't even do that." She reached into her robes and pulled out a wrapped up present and a card. "When I was captured, I thought I would never see them again. It feels like that now, Ron. You're lucky you still have your parents, protected by the Order. Mine are out there somewhere, at least you can see yours; I can't. I hate the fact that Voldemort has driven them into hiding. When they were here, for those days after Sirius and I were rescued, they helped me and they understood why I had to stay here." She shuddered, her shoulders shaking. "I don't think I can live without them there to keep me stable... I'm fighting for them... for their survival... If they die, what do I have to fight for?" Tears were threatening again, but this time she did not wipe them away, she let them fall.
"You have us to fight for," whispered Ron.
She looked at him, a single tear stain trailing down her cheek. "Wh... what are you saying?"
Ron shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his face reddening once more. "I thought I'd lose you when you were caught... I didn't want that, and it's not because you're my friend... it's because I like you, Hermione, a lot." He was silent for a few moments, but then spoke again. "You can fight for us, for our future..." He trailed off.
Hermione stood there, in shock. Had Ronald Weasley just admitted that he liked her too?
"Hermione?" he sounded worried.
"Ron... I... I don't know what to say..." she whispered. "I'm in a weird place at the moment...but..." her eyes met his, "I like you too."
A slight smile and he stepped forward and took both of her hands in his. "Hermione, I want you to know, I'll fight for you, for us, if that is what you want. Even if you don't, I still will."
"Thank you," she said softly, appreciating him being there with her. She stood on her toes and leaned in, catching his lips with hers and kissing him gently, before she pulled away again. "Thank you for being here for me, for comforting me."
Ron smiled. "I'm glad I am too," he replied and then lowered his head to catch his lips with hers. They broke apart seconds later, but from that moment onwards, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger were a couple.
To be continued...
Please let me know what you think!
It may seem a bit abrupt and sudden for Ron and Hermione to admit their feelings for each other, but I'm one of those people who feel they have liked each other for ages, which accounts to all their jealousy problems in the series, and that the circumstances Hermione found herself in earlier in the story, it has led her (and Ron) to evaluate how they feel about one another and admit it. There won't be much in the way of romance in this story, but there are pairings but it isn't prominent or really part of the main storyline.
Coming up: The Cursed Necklace, in which Sirius confides in Harry and a student is desperate to succeed in their mission...
"The Order is doing everything they can to save him."
"Something's happened to her!"
"They were accidents that went wrong."
"You've scared him, Harry."
Will be posted on Monday!
Until then,
the-writer1988