Sorry for the late chapter! I wasn't able to meet with Jess until today. I hope you all enjoy the new chapter!
Chapters are going to come out even slower because we're both going back to school. I'll try to fit in writing time as much as possible but I can't promise speedy chapters. I apologise in advance for their lateness!
Thank you for reading! please leave constructive critiques!
If there's anything about this story that is not up to par, please leave it in a review!
I want to improve but it's hard to pinpoint which areas I'm lacking in because I don't have a trained eye for it!
The Gryffindor Quidditch players crowded around the Common Room in the most tired state I had ever seen them.
It was early Saturday Morning and the sun hadn't yet broken over the horizon.
I shuffled my feet in a vain attempt to warm up, while Candice and Hermione sat in front of the fire; huddling in its glow in anticipation of our morning at the frozen Quidditch Pitch. I pulled my quidditch robes closer around me and breathed out a heavy mist.
We were waiting for the last member of our team, Ritchie Coote, to join us so we could leave together.
The Grandfather clock struck 5am; its loud booms echoed throughout the area.
"We couldn't have made it any earlier?" Asked Ginny sarcastically. Harry chuckled.
I yawned sleepily and rubbed my eyes, longing for the warm comfort of my bed.
I noticed Candice fidgeting in her seat. I recognised it as one of her common anxieties; she wanted to talk but didn't feel comfortable to say anything near the intimidating Quidditch Team. I walked over to the lounge and took a seat between her and Hermione.
"What's eating you?" I asked her quietly. She leant in close as she responded.
"You got your neck broken yesterday." she muttered.
"Madam Pomfrey fixed me up," I replied, "I'm perfectly fine now."
"You know that's not what I meant." She hissed, frowning heavily at me.
"We don't know if anyone's actually trying to hurt me..." I muttered, averting my eyes from her unwavering glare.
"I saw you fall. I heard them run." She spoke slowly and glanced at Hermione who appeared to purposely avoid Candice's gaze.
"Well even if that's the case, we keep these Quidditch Practices practically secret; and it's 5am. Who would be up this early to hurt me? In front of the entire team?" I asked her quietly. She gave me a skeptical look in reply.
"It'll be alright," I told her and patted her on her back, "There are going to be 9 people on the pitch so if anything happens, someone will be able to catch me."
I saw Hermione pause suddenly out of the corner of my eye and glance at me nervously.
Ritchie Coote finally came down from the male dormitory. His descent stirred the team from their collective slumber and they all collected near the portrait hole. I got up and followed Harry outside.
"Al'right, Ritchie?" Ron asked Ritchie behind us.
"Yeah, sorry." Ritchie said slowly, "Couldn't sleep last night."
Harry made a sympathetic sound as he climbed up into the portrait hole and I sympathised with how Ritchie felt. After detention and the fiasco that was encountering Draco in the halls, I had laid in bed with worry gnawing at my stomach for another hour before passing out. I heard Harry's shoes clack against the tile of the corridor outside and proceeded to climb in after him.
I worried silently if he had picked up on Draco's use of my first name last night.
We approached the Qudditch Pitch slowly; half of us already doing our start-up stretches. Harry slowly jogged towards the Broomshed, and opened the door, walked in and started locating the team's equipment.
He handed me my Nimbus 1700 from its place on the rack and as he handed out the rest I inspected my broom for damage. The broomshed was easily accessible, and any of the teams could get inside of it.
"Anybody's broom need servicing?" Harry asked the group.
"Mine Does," Katie Bell said as she examined her broom's bushel, "someone's kicked it."
Harry handed her the public Broom Servicing Kit and she sat outside to work on it.
Hermione caught up with the rest of us and walked up to me, giving my broom a wary look.
"Candice is right to worry." She said sternly, "You were pushed down a set of stairs yesterday by someone who knew what they were doing was wrong."
She still had her eyes on my Nimbus 1700. She carefully took out her wand and began to mutter spell after spell and I recognised that she was checking for hexes, jinxes and curses.
My broom quickly begin to groan and the handle shuddered under my palms.
"Let go!" She shouted and I threw it away from us. It groaned and suddenly snapped in two; a storm of splinters rocketed outwards. I shielded my face with my arm and felt the wooden needles pierce my flesh; Hermione quickly shouted a reflecting charm. The splinters suddenly rebounded away; arched high into the air before falling and burying themselves into the ground.
"Someone hexed your broom." Hermione huffed. "This has gone too far."
I felt the sting of the splinters in my arm as I carefully removed my jacket, thankful that I hadn't worn a long sleeved shirt today. My Team mates stood stunned. The first to break their stupor was Candice.
"What happened?!" she exclaimed as she approached us.
My boom sat almost snapped in two. Frayed and battered as it lay on a bed of it's own shattered remains which marred the ground as far as 5 feet away. Candice's concern suddenly transformed into an amazing rage.
"See?!" She shouted, "Someone's trying to hurt you! I told you, you shouldn't have come to practice!"
I slowly approached my broom and gently picked it up; The wood was corroded.
I felt someone grab my arm and pull it towards them. I hissed as the areas where the splinters were buried lit up in pain. I snapped my head around to see who it was.
"Episkey," Harry said and suddenly my arm felt very, very hot.
I watched as the wooden splinters push themselves out of my arm as the small wounds they caused closed slowly as the burning heat drained away, leaving my arm feel very cold in comparison.
"Dumbledore." Harry grunted angrily.
"But-" I started,
"Now." He said through gritted teeth. I glanced over at Hermione, who gave me a tight lipped grimace and began to walk back towards the Castle. Candice followed after her quickly, already asking questions.
I looked back at Harry. His eyes were furious but he hadn't let go.
"Harry-" I murmured and weakly pulled back my arm; he dropped it instantly.
"Come on, Gryffindor," he said loudly, "to the pitch."
He turned and walked away, the watching team shot me worried looks.
I stared after Harry as he continued to the pitch, his back to me. Ritchie cautiously approached me; his eyes locked on my twig of a broom.
"Are you alright?" Ritchie asked, still staring.
"I, um...I think." I replied. Ritchie gave me a sad shrug and lightly jogged after Harry and the others. I turned around and hurried to catch up with Hermione, who had paused a little way up the path with Candice.
Candice was furious. It was the most angry I had ever seen her but she was managing to keep most of it bottled. She ground her hands together under the guise of warming them and stood with a frown carved so deeply on her face it was as if she had never worn a different expression. She glanced frequently back and forth between me and Hermione, who looked also on the edge of exploding. We walked to the Castle in a tense silence.
"Lemon Drops." Hermione whispered to a Gargoyle Statue.
I looked at her with a puzzled expression. How did she already know the password for Dumbledore's office?
The Statue rotated in place, exposing a secret winding staircase that reached far above the roof of the corridor we stood in.
Candice made a soft impressed sound, but said nothing.
Hermione walked into the stairwell and began to climb the staircase but stopped to ask us;
"Are you coming?"
Candice immediately began to hurry up the staircase behind her and I slowly joined them, 6 or 7 steps behind.
We reached a small landing atop the staircase and were presented with a large door. Hermione knocked on it sharply 5 times and we waited in silence.
I looked over at Candice who had offered to hold my broom in the event it betrayed any extra, unknown though thoroughly late acting dark magic.
She grasped it hard and let it bend in the middle where most of the wood had snapped in half. Her anger seemed to have momentarily dispersed due to the quietness of our entrance of the castle.
I glanced at Hermione who was waited patiently; Her anger still lingered, accompanied by her frown. She glanced at me before looking at my arm with worry. I remembered the pain as the splinters pierced my skin, and I thought about where I would be right now if she hadn't checked for hexes.
It hit me then act was more than a possible prank.
Someone had hexed my broom to shatter; to spend splinters out in every direction while I rode it.
This was too harmful to be a prank. It was dangerous. Someone was out to hurt me.
I swallowed nervously, my skin prickled and I felt very light and uneasy, painfully aware of every sound, sensation and movement atop that stairwell landing. I glanced back over at the broom in Candice's hands and I realised that I was actually terrified. I pictured myself falling to the pitch; covered in tiny wooden daggers, soaked in my own blood. I flung my hand to my forehead, breathed out heavily and glanced up at Candice and then realised how I close I was to the wall, so I leant uneasily against it.
My breathing felt short; inadequate. Each breath felt incomplete and it pained me.
Dumbledore's office door wrenched open and the HeadMaster stood in the doorway in a ruffled nightshirt. Fluffy slippers poked out underneath.
"Ahh," he said quietly, "Gryffindor students. What do I owe this early morning visit?"
"This." Candice said as she held out the remains of my Nimbus 1700.
"Hmm," Dumbledore grumbled as he took the splintered broom in his hands and held it up to inspect, "and what was this?"
"My broom." I said emotionlessly.
"Someone hexed it." Hermione filled in, "It exploded when I checked for sabotage."
Dumbledore looked at me over his half moon glasses. We stood for a moment in silence.
"Please, come in." He said nicely as he smiled at us and turned back into his office; leaving the door open for us for us to walk through.
As we followed him, Dumbledore motioned to three plush chairs in front of a messy desk.
We sat down while he waved his hand, clearing his desk; curious looking items and gadgets levitated slowly and relocated themselves to shelves and on other tables around the room. Dumbledore gently laid the broom down on his desk and sat in his own chair.
He clasped his hands together in front of his mouth. His eyes twinkled as he waited for us to explain.
"Amanda is in danger." Hermione said bluntly but Dumbledore's soft expression did not change.
"She's been pushed down stairs by someone invisible and the fall broke her neck!" Candice continued, "and then her broom was hexed to explode during use! If it wasn't for Hermione…" She trailed off and she glanced at Hermione.
Candice's expression softened and her face began to glow red. Hermione did not meet her eyes; she merely stared at the Headmaster, searching his face for his impression.
Instead, Dumbledore turned his attention to me but he did not speak; again, he waited for me to explain. I tried but I couldn't. I sat there are stared at him. Anxiety slowly gathered in my stomach, making it heavy and tense.
Professor Dumbledore inclined his head slightly, urging me to talk.
"I have detention With Professor Snape." I said suddenly, surprising myself. We were in the Head Master's office being stared at by him as we try to explain about the now very real threat upon my life, and all I could say I'm spending my nights scrubbing cauldrons?
Dumbledore, however, slowly nodded as If what I had said rang true to him.
"Then we can't have you roaming the corridors at night, can we?" Dumbledore said with an almost cheeky smile, "why don't you ask our friend Mr Harry Potter if you could borrow a certain article of clothing?"
I frowned. How did Dumbledore know about Harry's cloak? I supposed he would know; He was the headmaster after all. Harry probably had to get permission off Dumbledore to even get his cloak into the school. That's how those things worked, right?
"I...I guess…" I muttered, but it seemed pretty unfair. Really unfair. It was one thing to ask Harry to shadow me but it was another to just take his cloak. I didn't want to ask, but I doubted that Harry wanted to walk me back to the common room every night.
Dumbledore nodded once and looked back down at the broom.
"And perhaps using a different school broom every time you practice." he continued, "and...Always check for hexes."
I glanced over at Candice whose anger seemed to be put aside for a heavy dose of confusion.
I looked down at the desk that held my once most prized possession.
"I will keep this for now," Professor Dumbledore said and he waved his hand. The broom levitated off the table and slowly floated out of the room through a door that opened as it approached and closed behind it.
Professor Dumbledore rose from his chair.
Candice, Hermione and I stood, our invitation clearly over.
He nodded at us and smiled, and he placed his hands behind his back.
We filed out of the room. I looked back before I left the room. Dumbledore stood still as a statue, the same smile on his face I walked out and The office door shut behind me. Immediately Candice and Hermione started squabbling.
"He didn't even ask about her being pushed!" Candice said angrily, "It was like he doesn't even care! and what was that about an article of clothing?!"
"He probably knows more than he's letting on," Hermione murmured, trying to distract from Dumbledore's mysterious mention of Harry's cloak, "Professor Dumbledore knows a lot about the goings on in his school."
"Maybe he can tell us who pushed me." I muttered. Candice snapped her fingers.
"That's probably what's he's going to do!" she exclaimed, "He took your broom, he's probably going to test it somehow."
"How?" Hermione asked, pausing as we descended the stairwell.
"Well, Prior Incantato shows the last spell used on a wand. There's bound to be a spell that does a similar thing but for an object!"
"If that were true then all cursed items sent over owl would be traced back to their casters, wouldn't they?" Hermione replied causing Candice to frown.
They conversed about this with each other until we reached the bottom of the stairwell; the wall revolved again to let us out.
"What can we do now?" Candice sighed as we hit the tile floored corridor.
"Well, we could go to the library and figure out what hex was used and see if it's taught in class, maybe?" Hermione offered.
"Can we go back down to the pitch?" I asked quietly, not looking at either of them.
Hermione sighed.
"Well, it's not like you're life's going to be any less threatened if you go back." she said.
Candice looked at me and then at Hermione. She seemed conflicted.
"I'll um, I'll...go with you, Amanda." She said with uncertainty. Hermione nodded and we parted ways. Candice and I silently walked back to the Quidditch pitch.
As we reached it, I watched as my fellow Quidditch players performed their wind down manoeuvres. Had we really been gone that long?
"What did he mean by an article of Clothing?" Candice asked suddenly.
"Oh, um, I don't know." I lied reflexively, "maybe Harry has an enchanted hat or something."
"Maybe Dumbledore's just potty." Candice sighed. I almost agreed.
I saw Harry standing in the middle of the pitch and we walked to meet him. He looked as though he had a pleasant practice; he did not seem as angry as he did when we had left.
"What did Dumbledore say?" He asked us.
"Not very much." I muttered. He looked confused.
"I told him that she was pushed and that her broom was hexed and he didn't say anything!" Candice replied, "and then, when Amanda mentioned her detention, Dumbledore said that you'd have a magic hat or something for her to use."
"A magic hat." Harry repeated flatly.
"'An Article of Clothing'" Candice specified, rubbing her eyes in frustration. Harry's face dropped for a moment but recomposed himself before Candice opened her eyes.
"It's just…" Candice sighed and looked at me sadly.
"Frustrating." I finished. Candice shook her head in disagreement.
"It's just...why?" she asked, "why you? You're not important."
"Thanks." I replied.
"No, you...you know what I mean though!" she repeated, "you're not important in the grand scheme of things! You're not Harry. Heck you're not even Hermione. Anyone could be envious of her." she said in a wistful tone. There was silence for a moment.
"have you spoken to your parents lately?" she asked me.
"Really." I replied, my fatigue slowly being replaced by irritation, "You're really asking that."
"Yes!" she said loudly, "have you gotten an owl from them recently?"
"What do you think?" I hissed back. I wanted to walk away but I still had to ask Harry. I could see that he expected it; He was barely listening to our conversation. There was a conflict of interest playing out in his head and it had nothing to do with with my Parent's lack of communication.
"I'm serious." Candice said, regaining my attention, "what if something's happened?"
"Nothings happened." I said, "everything is normal."
"But you haven't got an owl, how do you know?"
"Just stop." I said, "just...I'll owl them, okay?"
Candice nodded and sighed, clearly upset that she had to argue with me on the topic. I shifted uncomfortably.
"Look, Why don't you go off and find Hermione." I told Candice dismissively, "go see what she's doing."
Candice looked slightly upset but nodded. She turned to leave.
"Don't go anywhere on your own, okay?" she said to me, "it's not safe. Not for now."
I gave her a pathetic look as agreement and she hurried off.
I turned back at Harry who had clearly made his decision.
"No." he said.
"I didn't figure."
"it was my fathers."
"It's ultimately your decision."
"It's one thing to help you out, but this?"
"I didn't suggest it."
We stood in silence for a few moments.
"I don't want to have to be awake every night at 1am to take you back." he said.
"You don't have to do that either. it's not your obligation to help me."
"Amanda..." He groaned as he rolled his eyes, "I'm your friend. I WANT to help you."
I was taken aback slightly. I didn't think that he'd want to go out of his way to help. I thought about how other people had helped me and It slowly churned in my brain that this was bad situation who affected more people than just me. Harry's things were stolen, Candice's study habits broken, the headmaster was involved now regardless of how much he had actually said, and now I've promised to write to my parents.
I shuddered.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked. The wind blew around our shoulders.
"Yeah." I replied, and rubbed my arm, the vision of the splinters escaping my skin scratched at my mind. Harry turned to face the pitch and watched his team as they demounted their brooms.
"Good Practice," Harry called to them, "We'll meet up in the Great Hall. Breakfast should be on by now." He turned back to me.
"Come on, lets something to eat." He said.
I spent most of the day in the Gryffindor common room attempting to complete my charms homework. The room was empty which was normal for Saturday mornings. Harry thought it would be best to stay there for the day and told me that he was going to go find Hermione. Candice had popped in around 1pm asking if I would like to go grab some lunch. She had to yell over the horrific bellowing of the canary she and I borrowed from Charms. I declined just as loudly, and eventually succeeded with the silencing charm.
As I reviewed my notes from the previous Potions lesson I remembered that we shared the class with Slytherin. I suddenly painfully ached to talk to Draco but I couldn't this weekend because if I were alone it could spell trouble. I thought of peeling off for a bit to find him, but what If someone returned to find an empty dorm room?
I looked down at the blank parchment in front of me and scribbled angry faces in frustration then scratched them out. To talk to Draco I needed the opportunity, I needed to be alone with him without causing suspicion, and I needed enough time to explain my my actions.
I wrote the three points down on the parchment and began listing ideas.
When would Draco and I be in the same place at the same time?
Meal Times, I wrote.
I immediately realised that it wouldn't work. Everyone is seated at their own tables, though Breakfast and Lunch are informal they are both very busy; I couldn't easily sit at the Slytherin table without being noticed.
Study Periods.
I thought about our study periods. The free students would break off into their groups and study amongst themselves. Unless I caught him as he took a book out of the shelf in the library, one of the many places to study, I doubted that we would be able chat.
In Class.
But which? Most classes don't get us to share our lessons with another house.
I scanned my brain for options.
Potions, one of the few doubled classes, wasn't on again until Wednesday.
Classes start again on Monday. What classes are on Monday?
Charms, history of magic; Both single classes.
Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, than Care of Magical Creatures...We doubled with Slytherin then. I wrote it down. If not then, then it would have to be Wednesday.
I sighed and looked down the list again.
Care of Magical Creatures had the opportunity but I needed to be able to be alone with him. Maybe If I tried to pair off with him on the class practical? There was almost a new one every week. It would look so suspicious. Maybe I should just try to grab a table with him in Potions? Ugh.
I crossed the whole paragraph out. Ink splattered the parchment as I roughly dragged my quill across the page.
It seemed so futile.
I heard the portrait swing open and I frantically began to rip my parchment to pieces.
"Sick of study?" Ron's voice asked as I gathered the pieces in a small pile.
"Oh, very." I lied.
"Hermione said you should probably come down to dinner, since you haven't eaten all day."
"What time is it?" I asked, surprised and looked out the window. It was already dark.
"About quarter past 4," he replied, looking at the grandfather clock, "come on quick, don't want to spend the whole dinner wandering down stairs."
I stood up and looked down at my things.
"Just leave 'em, we'll clean it up when we get back."
"But-" I said, staring down at the piled bits of parchment. I bit my lip.
"alright," I said, "but burn this pile of scrap. Useless first draft."
Ron laughed. "alright," he replied, "alright, just hurry."
We left for dinner.
I stood again in the cold dark corridor outside Professor Snape's office. I had whined about how chilly it was outside Snape's office during Dinner and Candice let me borrow her jacket. It was a bit large on me but very warm. It helped push away the anxious thoughts of the creepy corridor beyond the light.
I heard Professor Snape's footsteps as he entered the corridor with his usual flourish. As he approached I saw that he was holding another bundle of rolled parchment. He walked up to the door and opened it with a wave of his wand. I followed him in.
He laid the entire stack of parchment he held on top of the same rickety table from last detention.
I wondered if he kept it in the room or if he removed it since last night.
"Sit." He commanded once again.
He seemed angrier than normal. Usually, he would be spitting insults or implying horrible things. Now, he just seemed quiet. Cold.
Whatever, I thought, if he doesn't talk then I don't have to listen to his usual spiel.
I sat down on the rickety chair and watched him.
Snape walked past his desk to the shelves behind it that held a few large books. He took out a heavy looking leather bound book and shuffled over to where I sat before dropping it down on the desk which shuddered under the book's weight. He leant over the desk, his hands gripped the sides of the weak wooden table.
"Read the essays." He said coldly, "Check each against their entries in this book." He tapped the leather book, "and write out what they got wrong on this." he picked up one of the unsealed rolls, "Get through all of them by the end of detention."
"But-" I started to protest the large pile but a odd sort of anger flared in his eyes. I shut my mouth quickly. He waited a moment for me to try again and when I didn't he stood stiffly.
"If there are no objections..." he said and paused again, then returned to sit at his desk.
I gave him a disgruntled face at him behind his back.
I dragged the book closer. It was as heavy as it looked; I could barely lift it. I opened the leather cover and began to flip through the pages. The beginning of the book held old and yellowed pages but as the book went on, newer pages were slotted in between them. All the pages, even the yellow ones, had the same thick, small handwriting; It was the same handwriting as the one on the parchment I had received the previous detention.
This whole book was written by Professor Snape!
Suddenly, Snape cleared his throat and my head snapped up to look at him. He was staring at me angrily from his desk.
"Don't just sit there," he spat, "get on with it."
I closed the book with a bang and slid it away from me as I grabbed one of the parchments from the top of the pile. I unfurled it and read it slowly; it was difficult to decipher the messy writing. It was about the Forgetfulness Potion; something we studied in our first year. I read through it and jolted down the student's name and a few notes on to the blank parchment provided.
I opened the book, located the Forgetfulness potion and read through the details provided. I was a bit hazy on them myself. The information about the potion was clear yet incredibly detailed. I was impressed.
I continued this way for a few hours and got through about 20 of the essays. They ranged from 1st to 6th years, and all the information was found easily in this heavy, leather book.
I pondered the effort it would have taken to create this encyclopaedia of potions knowledge. It was so thorough but was written in simple english. The potions not only had the correct ingredients and methods but extra tips and hints. It also included a blurb about the potion, it's effects, the original creator AND what the Potions Association had decided for it; whether or not it was legal for trade, if there were any standards related to it, etc.
This heavy book could practically be an 7th year textbook, or maybe even a "catch-all" recipe book for Master Potioneers. it covered so much!
It had everything from the Standard Potioning Water to Felix Felicis and beyond!
I looked up at my still angry and very greasy potions teacher. Could he really put so much effort into something like this?
He sat hunched over a few more rolls of parchment, leaning his fist against his forehead; a triangle window created by it. I looked at his hooked nose and furrowed brow.
He was obviously very pissed off by having to mark students work. Why did he become a potions teacher in the first place? Was it so he had money and time to cook up potions?
"What is it, Miss Marlin." Snape hissed through gritted teeth. I was surprised.
"Um, nothing, Sir." I replied, and looked back down at the book. I bit my lip.
"How long have you been working on this book?" I asked him. He looked up at me in anger but I was too curious to be bothered by it.
"What?" He asked, and then looked down at the book in my hands, "how do you…?"
"It's your handwriting," I said slowly, "how long have you been working on it?"
there was silence. I think I stunned him. He cleared his throat.
"Decades…" He replied, "It's…been decades."
"It's…" I began, dragging my fingers down the page and uncovering the diagram of Polyjuice Potion carefully drawn in ink, "it's really good."
There was silence. I didn't want to look up.
"…get back to work."
That was closest thing to a thank you I think I would ever receive from Professor Snape.
I worked for the rest of my sentence, not speaking another word.
I walked out of Snape's Office, gripping my cramping hand tightly. I had found so much wrong in the last few essays that I knew it was impossible for the writers to get a passing grade. I didn't recognise their names but I sympathised for them. The door slammed closed behind me and I heard the stomping shuffle of Snape's steps as he walked away. He muttered something unintelligible and I couldn't make it out through the door.
I pulled Candice's jacket tighter around my shoulders. It was colder now since it was past midnight.
"Cold, ay?" Harry's voice greeted me.
"Not again, Harry." I groaned, "You can't stay up every night waiting for me."
"I don't plan to," he replied, "but I couldn't just leave my cloak on the ground. You'd walk straight past it."
"Seriously?" I replied, "Are you sure? You don't have to. I can get by without it, I swear."
"it's almost as if you don't want the bloody thing." He chuckled, "Come on, let's go."
We walked out of the dungeons in silence and returned to the Common room without incident. I cringed as I remembered our encounter with Draco the previous night.
I wandered towards the fireplace and stood there, warming my hands. Beside me, Harry appeared as he pulled the cloak off.
"You've got to promise me," he said, "promise me that when you have it, you will never take it out of your bag when you're not using it."
"I promise," I replied,
"You'll never show Candice or anyone else."
"I promise I will never show or tell or mention or mimic or charade that I have it to anyone or anything or concept." I explained with tense expression.
Harry smiled but attempted to smother it. I could tell that he wanted my agreement to be sincere.
"I promise." I said, "That I will never tell another soul about your cloak."
He smiled genuinely and he handed me his invisibility cloak. As I took it from him my hands disappeared, but I could still feel myself holding the cloak; it felt very airy and light, like silk if it had no weight.
"This is amazing." I said to Harry; I looked up at him in wonder.
"Thank you, Harry," I murmured, "This could very well save my life."
"I know." He replied.
We smiled at each other. It was so comforting, but I looked away.
"Thank you." I said again, and suddenly I felt this amazing, overbearing need.
So I rushed him, and threw my arms around him and squeezed him tightly, clutching the cloak behind his back.
"Merlin, Harry, Thank you." I said to him; my head resting under his chin, "you do not understand how much I appreciate this."
"I think I might be catching on," he laughed. I let go of him and laughed as well.
"I want to scare Hermione right now." I said seriously, "can I do that."
"Probably not a good idea to do that this late." He replied, pretending to disagree with the idea.
"Tomorrow then, while she studies." I said. He shook his head.
"She'll hex you." He laughed, "but go for it. I can't wait to see for her reaction."
