Chapter Six

Harry's next visit to the Ministry was requested by the Minister. He wanted the once wizard under his roof to keep eyes on him; even to intimidate him. Kingsley should have known that it wouldn't work on the strong, impregnable mind of Harry Potter.

Upon his arrival, Ron escorted him to Hermione's office, where the three of them had a private conversation. Ron and Hermione told Harry of the things they had discovered over the few days since the truth of the Order was revealed to them. The first thing they told him was that there were, indeed, meetings of the Order that occurred without their knowledge.

"My father calls them night meetings," Ron explained. "He's been having them since I can remember. They are reserved for the original members, and those who followed Dumbledore blindly."

"The ones who voted to have you lose your power," Hermione added.

"How is it that they could actually do that?" Harry asked.

Hermione waited a beat before she responded. "Well, several factors go into it. For starters, the wizard in question has to, at least, have expressed even the slightest inclination to what was trying to be accomplished."

Harry looked embarrassed by that sentence. It was true that he had sometimes wished he wasn't a wizard, but he never actually meant it. Well, not really. There were times that he had, and he hated that that fact played a part in getting him into his current predicament.

"Your reserves were also rather depleted after the Battle," Hermione pointed out. "They used the opportunity to attack. You were weak and susceptible to their exploits, and they were successful."

"So where did my magic go? Is it just gone? Is it suppressed? Did they take it and spread it among themselves?"

"Those are all brilliant questions, Harry, but I'm afraid I have limited answers. I promise to tell you what I do know."

Ron took the opportunity to remove himself from the office and stand guard, merely to keep up appearances. He ignored the panicked look on Hermione's face as he left, leaving the two of them alone. Ron would have thought Hermione would be ecstatic, but the proud witch just seemed that bit more uneasy around Harry than she had been before she knew about and met Julia.

It just seemed too weird for Hermione. Twenty three was an age that she couldn't wrap her head around. It felt like things had to happen, and people were going to start looking at her the way they were looking at Ron and Neville. Who was it who decided any age was the right age to settle down?

"When you were locked in with Voldemort; what were you thinking about?" Hermione asked.

Harry didn't have to think about it. "You."

Hermione's breath caught.

Sensing his mistake, he continued hurriedly. "And Ron, I suppose. And Ginny. I was thinking about my parents. I was thinking that I didn't want to die."

"Harry, be straight with me. What were you really thinking about? I need to know."

He took a breath, readying himself for the embarrassment. "Okay, I was. I was thinking about you, and what you had said before I went into the Forbidden Forest."

Hermione didn't need to be reminded of the moments before she watched her friend walk to his death. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Too much and nothing at all had happened in the years since. "I remember you mentioned that you had seen your parents when you and Voldemort locked wands during fourth year. Did that happen again?"

Harry shook his head. "They weren't with me that time," he said, sounding a bit sad about it. It all added to Hermione's belief that they would have to save themselves. "It was just me and Voldemort. It took everything I had for my spell to reach him. And then it did, and then he fell. Just like that. Just like the mortal man that he was."

"What did you feel when that happened?"

"Relieved mostly. And tired. I think we hadn't slept for days by that point. We also hadn't eaten. I remember the silence being really loud. Everything seemed to stop when he was defeated. The War was over. And I was a Muggle."

Hermione was writing all of this down, even though there were things she already knew. Like her next question: "When did you realise your magic was gone?"

"When I tried to Apparate to the Burrow. We thought it was just fatigue, or the wand. But it wasn't. My magic was gone."

Hermione scribbled a few more words before she stopped and looked up at him. "Now, Professor McGonagall mentioned that it could have been psychological," she said. "Have you tried to perform magic since you left?"

Harry nodded. "Every month, on the full moon, I try. It's normally small things, like shifting things around in the kitchen or trying to unlock a locked door. Nothing."

"So you still have your wand?"

"Hidden in my sock drawer," he said with a laugh. "Can you imagine? How Muggle is that, honestly?"

She couldn't help but smile. He seemed better, as if he had somehow accepted his Muggle status. She also suspected that he believed that he would never get his powers back, or that he didn't actually want them back.

"If it is psychological, then I don't know how much good I can do," he explained. "I'm not sure I have the mental capacity to overcome it."

Hermione just nodded. "Personally, I don't think it's psychological. I remember how desperate you were, Harry. You would have done anything and everything to get your magic back."

He blinked a few times. "I'm sorry about the way I treated you," he said, his voice dropping in volume. "I'm not going to make any excuses. That was all me. I just, well, I didn't know how to deal with all of it, and I needed you to be safe. Away from me. I'd already put you and Ron through so much. It was better for all of us."

"I'm going to stop you right there, Harry Potter. This, I believe, is a conversation we can have at a later stage, because you're not allowed to disappear again. We kind of have more pressing things to handle right now."

He risked a smile. "Right, of course. This whole magic thing. If it's not psychological, what is it?"

Hermione rose to her feet. "I've been working on something," she explained, as she stepped out from behind her desk. "It's an instrument that detects wards and charms and possible potions. I managed to combine things from several of Dumbledore's instruments into one. I'd like to see if it works on you."

When Harry agreed, he didn't anticipate what it would entail. Really, the entire thing reminded him of the time they used the time turner in their third year at Hogwarts. Hermione was standing right in front of him, her body almost touching his.

"I'm sorry about this," she said, fighting the blush. "I have to use my magic to work it on you."

Harry didn't say anything as he forced himself to remain perfectly still. It was a little too close for comfort and all he was thinking about was what Julia would think of their current position.

Hermione couldn't look at him. She hadn't really thought this through. What a stupid ridiculous instrument!

"You smell like lemongrass," Harry whispered.

"My shampoo," she let him know, as she fiddled with the instrument she held in her hands between them. It was a sort of dial, with a screen. It was designed to be used by only her, as she was probably the only person who could understand the results. "I have to do something to tame this hair."

"I like it."

Hermione needed to keep them focused. As always, she used her teacher voice; one that Harry was very used to. "I'm going to need you to close your eyes, Harry. Think of something happy, like you're casting a Patronus." As she said it, she hoped he wouldn't think of anything to do with Julia. It was a selfish thought but she couldn't help it.

Harry immediately closed his eyes and Hermione watched as a steady smile took shape across his face. For a moment, everything was still. If she could have, Hermione would have liked to freeze time. Harry was here, right in front of her. He was safe, and she had a sickening feeling that freezing time was the only way she could keep him that way.

Harry opened one of his eyes to peak at her.

"Eyes closed," she reprimanded. Then she took hold of his hands, not mistaking the sudden shock of electricity that shot through her body. At school, Hermione had never been shy when it came to hugging or touching him, but this was the first contact they had made since they made their reacquaintance just over a week ago.

The entire reading took about two minutes. Hermione had her own eyes closed as well, which did wonders to calm her racing heart. If she couldn't see him, she could imagine that he wasn't so close. Except that she could feel him. The heat of his body was radiating all over her.

To mark the end of the reading, the instrument pinged, which made Harry let out a light laugh. Hermione felt his breath on the tip of her nose and did her best not to make a sound. She opened her eyes and released his hands. "We're done," she said, retrieving the instrument and stepping away from him.

Without saying a word, Harry pulled her back towards him and enfolded her in his arms. Hermione managed to keep in her surprise as her arms moved to hold his waist.

"I'm sorry," Harry eventually whispered, only tightening his hold. "I've been dying to do this since you walked into the shop."

Hermione felt her body relax. "Me too," she admitted.

Harry held her for a few more seconds before he released her. "I really have missed you."

She stepped back. "You've got a funny way of showing it," she teased, before she returned to her seat and set the instrument on the desk in front of her.

Harry also returned to his seat, a trademark smirk framing his face. He bit back his response, mainly in fear of revealing too much about how he had spent the past years of his life. He sat back in his chair and watched as she fiddled with her strange instrument. She wrote things down and made absent sounds as she deciphered the results. Harry was deeply curious but he didn't ask any questions. She would tell him when she was good and ready.

"Okay," she eventually sounded. "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"Good."

"Well, you are under no charms or spells," she assured him. "No external magic is acting on you. You also aren't being fed a magic suppressing potion."

"And the bad, I presume, relates to the fact that I have no internal magic either?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said sadly. "You magical core is, essentially empty." When he didn't respond, she added, "At least we know now."

"That it's gone? That it's just gone. I mean, is it just hanging up in the air, waiting to be rediscovered and returned? Or has it been dissipated into the air and that's it? I never get it back?"

She looked at him for a long time. "You preferred not knowing, didn't you?"

He crossed his arms across his chest. "I managed to put it behind me, you know? I let the magic go, and I moved on with my life the only way I could. It was hard, I'll give you that, but I did it. I looked at it as a bit of a blessing. Without my magic, I didn't have to be Harry Potter. But, it turns out, Potter will never leave me."

"No it won't," she agreed. "You can't expect that to change just because the war is over, Harry. Everyone loves a hero."

"Just, nobody thought that the ones that were supposed to be heroes might turn out to be villains."

They sat in silence, allowing those thoughts to exist between them. If they were right, the entire Ministry was corrupt. Which pretty much left them with an even bigger problem. Still, Hermione had no idea who they could turn to. Well, she did. There were people who weren't part of it, she was sure. All they had to do now was try to figure out on which side everyone was. And the sooner they did that, the sooner they could end whatever was brewing.

She couldn't deny that she could feel something was happening. Similar to the times of Voldemort, suddenly things seemed ominous. They were supposed to be living happy and peaceful lives. Harry was right. Hadn't they done enough to earn an uncomplicated life? Hadn't Harry?

Talking about his lack of magic seemed to hurt Harry's mood quite severely, so Hermione attempted to move the conversation on to something else. Which didn't work out so well, because they quickly found themselves talking about the fact that he had actually left. He'd gone and he had left a cryptic goodbye. She even let him know that she had spent the better part of two years searching tirelessly for him.

"And then I find out that you're actually just a few kilometres away, literally down the road, happily living your own life without giving us so much as a thought!"

He gauged her tone, and her facial expression. "You're mad?"

"Well, of course I'm mad," she said, huffing. "You thought you had to go at it alone; that we wouldn't be there for you? I mean, honestly, Harry, I know not all the time was dandelions and roses, but we are the ones that were with you through it all. Who are you to decide anything for us? How dare you just leave?"

Harry just blinked, trying to absorb her pent up anger.

"And why couldn't you just tell us? Tell me? Did you really think I wouldn't understand? Or were you just so damn stubborn and self-absorbed that you didn't even consider how I would feel not knowing where you were?"

Harry didn't get a chance to respond because Ron chose that moment to knock and enter the office, cutting into Harry and Hermione's awkward moment.

"Are you two about done?" he asked. "I do have other work to do, you know?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, almost relieved by the redhead's arrival. "Liar. We all know Kingsley has you keeping an eye on Harry."

He moved to sit in the armchair beside Harry. "Well I'm bored just standing outside. Tell me what we know."

Hermione was quick to respond. "The good news is that there are no hidden charms or spells currently inflicted on him," she said. "And the bad news it that I haven't detected any magic. At all."

Ron looked at Harry. "Sorry, mate." Then, to both of them: "So what happens now?"

The boys looked at Hermione, who cleared her throat before she started to speak. "The next part is tricky," she admitted. "I conceded that I expected to find something, anything, so I'm going to have to go at it the long way." Neither boy spoke. "We know that it takes a witch or wizard at least eleven years to be strong enough to control and channel their magic. It is something we're already born with. Harry, right now, does not carry even the slightest inkling towards magic, which tells me two things about how getting the magic back will have to happen."

"What?" Ron prompted, wishing she would just get to it already.

Her eyes darted between the boys. "Well, one, umm, Harry's magic would never reestablish itself without external intervention."

"And two?" Harry prompted this time.

She swallowed, and then she told them. When she was done, she waited for their reactions, but they both looked a bit stunned. "Ron? Harry? Merlin, say something."

Harry just shook his head. "But we don't have to do any of that right now, do we?"

Hermione was quick to respond. "Not right now, no. I'm thinking that we should figure out exactly what the Order did to you before we start, in case there really is another way to reverse it."

"And maybe also figure out why they want the Cloak as badly as they do," Ron added. Anything to postpone whatever Hermione told them would have to be done. In fact, he hoped that there was another way entirely. "Speaking of the Order," Ron said. "I do have news of my own though." He waited, clearly enjoying their expectant looks.

"Ron!" they said in unison.

He laughed. "Just like old times," he muttered. "I'll tell you, I'll tell you. I just heard from Mum that she's having the kids over for dinner tomorrow night. Friday." That garnered no response from either of the other two. "Apparently Dad has one of those night meetings."

Hermione perked up at that. "Interesting."

"So," Ron said, turning towards Harry. "You coming for dinner or what?"