A/N: Remember the teaser from the end of Dementors of Azkaban? Well, that's in this chapter! Finally resolved!
Harry was both excited about and scared of the meeting with his friends. On one hand, he wanted to tell them about defeating Voldemort (twice) and about Sirius Black. It would be nice to be able to speak honestly with everybody, instead of constantly keeping secrets. And Harry had to admit, what he had done was pretty amazing; he was looking forward to receiving some recognition for his accomplishments from his friends. Harry couldn't help grinning when he imagined the look on Draco's face after he found out that Harry had become the Heir of Slytherin.
But even that was secondary to the reaction Harry anticipated from Hermione. What could be more impressive to a pretty Gryffindor girl than hearing that Harry Potter had defeated Voldemort twice in his first two years at Hogwarts? Combined with their adventure through time at the end of last year… Harry wasn't sure what would come of his revelations, but he had the feeling that it would be rather good. Harry discovered that he was suddenly interested in upcoming dates for Hogsmeade weekends.
Harry, Draco and Tracey walked to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom together. When they arrived, Hermione was waiting for them, seated on the ledge in front of the frosted window. She seemed to be having a rather cheerful conversation with Myrtle. Or, at least, Hermione's end seemed to be cheerful. Myrtle, for her part, was moaning.
"Could you give us some privacy?" Harry asked Myrtle when he entered the bathroom.
"Go flush yourself," Myrtle said. She made a rude gesture, then dove into the nearest toilet.
"What's Granger doing here?" Draco asked. "You said we needed to have a meeting about the tournament."
"We do," Harry said. "I spoke with Snape this morning. He told me that I need help if I want to survive the tournament, but I won't be getting it from him or any other teacher. Crouch is going to be watching me like a hawk."
"And I still haven't heard why Granger is here," Draco said.
"Actually, I was wondering the same thing about you," Hermione said. "Harry obviously wants help, and I'm best in our year. It's rather clear why I'm here."
Draco scowled. Before he could say snap back at Hermione, Harry intervened.
"I do want help," Harry said. "You three are my best friends, and if we all work together, I just might survive this. But I need us to be a team."
"I'll stop if he stops," Hermione said, after a moment.
Draco rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. "Fine, whatever."
"Thank you," Harry said. "Okay. First thing. Everything that we do and say in these meetings has to be absolutely secret. If the other champions find out my plans, they might be able to use it against me. And, more importantly… I think somebody's trying to kill me." Harry quickly described Moody's conspiracy theory.
Draco scoffed. "Moody's barmy."
"Maybe, but Snape agrees with him," Harry said.
"Well…" Draco respected Snape quite a lot. "Sometimes even a noseless niffler finds a coin, I guess."
"Harry, you do realize who your chief suspect is, right?" Hermione asked. Harry noticed that she didn't mention Pettigrew's name; Hermione was protecting Harry's secrets. Harry wasn't afraid, however. He was planning to tell his friends everything.
"Yes, Pettigrew's name came to mind," Harry said. "Here's how I think he did it."
He summarized his personal theory about how his name had come out of the Goblet, including the extra dangers that Snape had noticed. "Here's the bottom line: if our plans get out, Pettigrew might not wait for the tournament to kill me. He might decide to take a more active role to ensure my death. So, everything stays secret."
"Pettigrew? Why is that name familiar?" Tracey asked.
"I'm just about to get to that," Harry said. "Over the last three years, a lot of things have happened to me. Most of what I am about to tell you, Dumbledore has asked me to keep secret. I don't see the purpose behind that, not any longer. Secrets are no good to me if I'm dead, and surviving the tournament is my highest priority. If we're going to make the best possible plans to help me survive, then we all need to know everything. There's no telling what seemingly insignificant detail from my past might save my life."
Harry paused to gather his thoughts. Hermione and Tracey both had concerned looks on their faces. Draco, meanwhile, hopped up and sat on the edge of the nearest sink.
"Hurry up," Draco said. "The suspense is just KILLING me."
Harry smiled. Even at the worst of times, Draco could always brighten Harry's mood.
"Best to start at the beginning, I guess." Harry said. And with that, the words began to pour out of Harry like a cascade. It was such a relief to tell his friends everything that had happened. No more keeping track of which friend knew which secret, no more lying about what had happened and why. Harry told them everything, everything about Quirrel andVoldemort and the invisibility cloak and the Heir of Slytherin and the diary and the Marauder's Map and Sirius Black and Peter Petterigrew. The only detail that Harry left out was the source of Tom Riddle's diary, and nobody thought to ask.
Hermione had initially been taking notes of what Harry said, but as Harry's story reached the middle of his second year, she put her quill and notebook away. None of Harry's friends said a word during his story, for which Harry was grateful. If they had interrupted him every sentence or two, this meeting would have taken hours. Even so, as Harry's story wound to a close, he glanced and his watch and discovered that more than an hour had passed. Curfew was quickly approaching.
"That's about it," Harry said. It seemed like a bit of an anti-climax, after everything he had just described. "Then my name came out of the goblet and now we're here. Now you pretty much know it all."
The bathroom fell silent, except for the sound of intermittently dripping water. Harry looked at the faces of his friends, and was surprised to discover that Tracey was the only one who seemed at all surprised or excited. Both Draco and Hermione had carefully composed faces that gave no hint of their thoughts or emotions.
"What do we do now?" Tracey asked excitedly.
"I guess… we go to sleep," Harry said. "It's only five minutes until curfew."
"I didn't mean right now," Tracey said. "I meant, how do we start preparing for the tournament?"
"You should go to the library," Hermione said. Her words were clipped, as if she were restraining some sort of emotion. "Researching past tournaments is a good place to start."
Harry nodded. "Okay. Let's meet in the library tomorrow, an hour before dinner. For now, lets get back to our dormitories."
Hermione quickly packed her bag, and the four students stepped out of the bathroom. Tracey and Draco began walking toward Slytherin, but Harry hesitated. It would be no problem for Tracey and Draco to make it back to Slytherin before curfew, but there was no way that Hermione could get all the way across the castle to Gryffindor Tower in time.
"I'm going to walk Hermione back to Gryffindor," Harry said. "If we run into a prefect, we'll use the invisibility cloak." Part of Harry was actually hoping that they would run into a prefect; he wouldn't mind a few minutes with Hermione under the invisibility cloak.
Draco shrugged and turned away. "Whatever."
Tracey waved and smiled. "See you in a few minutes!"
As Harry and Hermione set off for Gryffindor tower, Harry removed the Marauder's Map from his cloak and activated it. He and Hermione were alone, and there weren't any prefects or teachers between them and Gryffindor tower. Harry would have plenty of time to get his invisibility cloak if somebody approached. It was going to be an easy walk.
As Harry and Hermione walked along the corridor, Harry was struck by his friend's silence. Hermione wasn't a chatterbox like Pansy, but she usually had something to say. Combined with the strange sound of her voice in the bathroom, and her complete lack of reaction to Harry's story, Harry was completely befuddled. Nevertheless, Harry was content to stay quiet—the chiming of distant clocks told him that curfew had finally passed. There was no need to draw attention to themselves, and voices sometimes did strange things in the halls of Hogwarts.
As Hermione and Harry walked up a staircase, automatically hopping over the disappearing trick step, Harry glanced over and saw that Hermione was clearly struggling to keep… some sort of expression off her face. Hermione was screwing her mouth back and forth, as if her closed lips were literally holding back words. Her eyes stared straight ahead, rejecting possible distractions. Her attention was turned completely inward. Hermione was definitely thinking about something.
Harry always found Hermione was attractive when she was using her intelligence to logically work through some sort of problem, and tonight was no exception. As Hermione absentmindedly moved her mouth, her nose wiggled slightly, a fact that Harry found exceedingly cute. When she finally set her jaw in place, her face was thrown into sharp relief. Her eyes flashed with intensity. Even her unruly hair could not hide the fact that she was an attractive young witch. Not that Harry would ever say such a thing out loud, of course. Especially not to Draco, and especially not to Hermione.
That being said, Harry was finding it difficult not to stare. He settled for glancing at Hermione, then looking ahead, then glancing back.
Harry and Hermione reached Gryffindor Tower without incident. No prefect or teacher would patrol this close to the common room, either; only a truly unusual situation would catch their attention. Hermione stepped forward to give the Fat Lady her password, but hesitated. She turned to Harry, an uncertain expression on her face.
Harry finally spoke, quietly. "You know, this reminds me of the last time I walked you back to Gryffindor Tower," Harry said. "Remember, after you snuck into my common room-"
Hermione grabbed Harry by the front of his cloak and pushed him backwards. Harry stumbled a little, then caught his balance when his back struck the wall. Hermione moved close, and as Harry glanced around he realized that she had concealed the two of them behind a suit of armor.
Harry wasn't sure what was happening, but in part of his mind it sounded as if bells were ringing. It was like he had just won a prize. Harry had heard that girls in Gryffindor were a bit more… aggressive… than girls from other houses, but he hadn't exactly been sure what that would mean. He had a feeling he was about to find out—apparently, Hermione had been more impressed by his stories than she had let on. Harry wondered how quickly he could get them both under his invisibility cloak, and how close the nearest secret passage was.
Hermione pulled down on Harry's cloak, drawing him forward until their faces were almost touching. She looked directly into Harry's eyes and slowly parted her lips. Harry closed his eyes slightly. This was it.
"Where the HELL do you get off, not telling me that you've been the Heir of SLYTHERIN for the past YEAR!" Hermione spoke through clenched teeth, punctuating her words by jerking Harry's robes and shaking him.
"I- er- I mean-"
"Did you forget that I was petrified for WEEKS? I missed EXAMS!"
Harry glanced around nervously. Hermione was making quite a lot of noise—enough to attract the attention of teachers or prefects who would otherwise avoid this hallway. "Hermione, quiet down."
Harry grabbed Hermione's wrists to stop her from yanking on his cloak. Hermione released her grip and immediately ripped her hands away from Harry.
"I will not be quiet! Don't you see why this is a problem?" Hermione stamped her foot and clenched her hands at her sides. "Didn't it ever occur to you to tell me this before now?"
"Hermione, it's just a title. It doesn't mean anything." Harry really wished that Hermione would be quiet.
"Just a title? What if Churchill had declared himself Fuehrer after Berlin fell during World War Two? Do you think anybody would have had a problem with it?"
"I think it's a little overdramatic to compare me to Hitler!" Harry was stage whispering—he was angry, but he wasn't about to shout in the corridor.
"Is it really? Your patronus is a basilisk, Harry!"
"So what!"
"I was petrified by a basilisk!" Hermione was not exercising quite as much restraint; her voice was getting louder by the moment.
"I wasn't the one who petrified you!"
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
Before Harry could reply, he heard footsteps and distant voices at the end of the corridor. He glanced at the still-active Marauder's Map and saw that Cedric Diggory was moving toward them, along with another dot whose name Harry didn't recognize.
"Shh," Harry said.
"Don't shush me!"
Harry tucked the map into his cloak and removed his invisibility cloak, unfurling it with a flourish. "Be quiet and stand still."
"I will not be-"
Harry swept the invisibility cloak up and around the two of them. They fit underneath it—barely. Hermione tried to continue speaking, but Harry put a hand over her mouth. Diggory had just rounded the corner, accompanied by a younger boy dressed in Hufflepuff colors and wearing a prefect's badge. Under the invisibility cloak, Hermione began to struggle. Harry raised a finger to his lips.
"I was sure I heard voices," said the younger Hufflepuff.
"It was probably just the portraits," said Diggory. "And even if it wasn't, whoever it was is already back in the Gryffindor common room."
Hermione stopped moving as the prefects' conversation reached her ears. She didn't want to be caught out after curfew any more than Harry did. Probably less, given her hard-earned reputation as a rule-abiding student. This, however, did not prevent Hermione from glaring hatefully at Harry over the top of his hand.
When Harry felt sure that Hermione wasn't going to give them away, he removed his hand. Hermione's lips were pinched into a tight line, and her glare did not weaken.
"You there!" The younger prefect was addressing the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Has anyone been in this hallway recently?"
The Fat Lady drew back and raised a hand to her collarbone. "Young man, I am appalled! I am a lady, and a work of art. How dare you address me as if I were some common stick figure?!"
The younger Hufflepuff opened his mouth to reply, but Diggory put a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry for my friend's rudeness," Diggory said. "What he meant to say, my lady, is that we would be grateful for any assistance you might give us. We heard voices, and thought that there might be students in the hallway after curfew." Diggory smiled warmly at the portrait, and the Fat Lady blushed.
"Thank you for the apology. It is nice to know that some people still have manners in this world." The Fat Lady paused and looked at the younger prefect. "As for students out after curfew… nobody has entered or left the Gryffindor common room. And if they were still in the hallway, well, you could see them as easily as I could."
Diggory lowered his head in a small bow. "Thank you, dear lady."
"You are very welcome," said the Fat Lady with a smile.
As Diggory and the younger prefect walked away, Harry could hear Diggory speaking in a calm tone. "You might be a prefect, but that doesn't make you better than anybody else. The more you treat people with respect, the more respect they'll give you back…"
When the two Hufflepuffs had moved around the corner, Harry removed the invisibility cloak. "Thanks," he said to the Fat Lady.
"I didn't do it for you," the Fat Lady said haughtily. "I did it for Ms. Granger."
Harry turned back to Hermione. She had not moved—she continued to glare at him.
"Do you trust me?" Hermione said. It was half question, half accusation.
"Of course I trust you," Harry said. "I just told you all my biggest secrets, didn't I?"
"Telling me under threat of imminent death isn't a difficult choice, Harry. 'Should I tell Hermione, or should I let myself get killed in front of the entire school?'"
Harry threw his arms up in the air. "What exactly do you want me to say?"
"I want you to tell me why you kept it a secret that you were the Heir!"
"Dumbledore wanted me to keep it a secret," Harry said, exasperated. A true statement, but not necessarily the answer to Hermione's question.
"You told Tracey before tonight," Hermione said.
"No I didn't," Harry lied.
"Yes, you did," Hermione said. "She practically worships you, Harry, but she hardly reacted at all when you said that you were the Heir. When you told us what happened first year, she was so excited she could barely stand still. She was the same way when you told her about Sirius Black. But the Heir of Slytherin? The one she should have been most excited about? She didn't say a word."
Harry opened his mouth to deny Hermione's accusation, but paused when she held up her hand.
"Harry, if you lie to me right now, you can count me out for the tournament. We're done."
Harry said nothing. The silence stretched out for a long moment.
"Okay, then," said Hermione. "When did you tell Tracey?"
"Last year."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted her to trust me."
"So you trust her more than me?" Hermione said. She sounded hurt, and surprised, as if she hadn't realized how much she wanted Harry's trust.
"You heard me wrong," Harry said, shaking his head. "It wasn't because I trusted Tracey. It was because I wanted Tracey to trust me." Harry ran his hand through his hair, brushing it back from his face. "You're braver than Tracey is. You don't need the reassurance that she needs. I mean, do you know that feeling when somebody is unexpectedly nice to you, but you're sure that they're just setting you up so that they can do something mean?"
Hermione nodded. A muggle-born as smart as Hermione? Of course she knew.
"That's how Tracey goes through life," Harry said. "She's really insecure about herself. She can't believe that anybody would actually like her, so she's always defensive, waiting for the other shoe to drop. If I was going to convince her that I actually wanted to be her friend, I needed to tell her something so important that it would be obvious that I wasn't setting her up."
"Why bother?" Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged. "She had always been nice to me. She helped me out during first year, when I still didn't understand wizarding society. She defended me when the whole school thought I was petrifying people. And she looked like she needed a friend."
Hermione looked down at her feet. When she looked up, most of the anger seemed to be gone from her face. "So you told Tracey. But if you were willing to ignore Dumbledore and tell her, why didn't you tell me?"
"Wait… Are you jealous?"
"Harry Potter!" Hermione's anger was back just as quickly as it had gone. "I am not jealous. Over the course of our friendship, you've lied to me, you've hidden things from me, and you've let your friends call me slurs without saying a word of protest. I think I deserve some answers!"
Harry sighed and leaned back against the wall. This was exhausting. "Why should I have told you, anyway? Because you had been petrified? Because Ginny was attacked, and Ron's your best friend? Because you're my friend? Because the Heir of Slytherin is a title that carries a lot of negative baggage?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes, that about covers it."
"Those are the exact reasons that I DIDN'T tell you, Hermione!"
There was a long pause before Hermione responded.
"Are we friends?" Hermione asked suddenly. She was no longer shouting.
"Yes, of course," Harry said.
"Then why do you keep lying to me?"
"Because I didn't think you'd want to be friends with the Heir of Slytherin, that's why!" Harry threw his hands into the air. "Obviously, I was right!"
Hermione raised her hands and started rubbing her temples. "Harry Potter, you make me angrier than anybody I know." She sounded thoroughly annoyed. "Well, anybody except for Ron. But Ron tells me the truth, and when he does something wrong, he apologizes. Eventually."
"Well, I'm sorry," Harry snapped.
"Are you? Really?"
"Yes," Harry said, voice full of exasperation. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I kept quiet because I didn't want to hurt you."
"Harry, the knowledge that you're the Heir of Slytherin is the smallest part of why I'm upset." Hermione's voice had returned to her normal, near-lecturing tone. "For the most part, I'm upset about the lying and the concealing. You shouldn't feel like you need to hide things from me. And you definitely shouldn't actually hide things from me. If we're going to be friends, you need to be honest with me. You have to be brave enough to do that. It's the cost of being friends with a Gryffindor."
"The cost of being friends with a Gryffindor, huh?" Harry grinned a little. "Fine, but you owe me something in return."
"This isn't a contract negotiation. This is about friendship."
"Call it the cost of being friends with a Slytherin, then," Harry said. "You have to understand that I have a reputation to live up to. Maybe in Gryffindor you can be 'the smart one' and get by with that, but it's different for me. I have a social persona. The person I am when I'm in public isn't the same as the person I am when we're talking one-on-one. I can't just put myself out there for the whole world to see."
Hermione frowned. "That's not right. You shouldn't hide who you are."
"Everybody does it, Hermione. Are you the same person with your parents that you are with your friends? If you met the queen, wouldn't you act differently than if you were meeting a first year Gryffindor?"
"That's not the same."
"Yes, it is," Harry insisted.
"Well… I don't like it," Hermione said.
"I'm not saying that I won't be honest with you. I will. No games. From now on, Hermione Granger gets the real Harry Potter. But you can't complain if I keep something back from the rest of the world."
"I guess that's fair," Hermione said reluctantly.
"So… friends?"
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "You're exhausting, Harry. Right now, I just want to go to sleep." Hermione walked over to the portrait of the Fat Lady. She paused and turned back to Harry. "Actually, there's one more thing, and it's been bothering me all summer. Those spells you were casting last year, when we used the time turner… where'd you learn those?"
"Professor Lupin taught me how to cast the patronus charm," Harry said.
Hermione gave him a sharp look. "You know that's not what I mean. I'm talking about the incendiary curse."
Harry shrugged. "I dunno, you pick things up here and there."
"Harry…" Hermione dragged his name out, warningly.
"Right, fine. Draco got me a book of curses as a Christmas present last year."
"Book of curses? As a Christmas present? What is wrong with you Slytherins?"
"Look who's talking! You used fire to scare away the Devil's Snare our first year!"
"That was foxfire, Harry. It couldn't roast a marshmallow." Hermione folded her arms across her chest and glared at Harry accusingly.
"So I have a book of curses," Harry said. "What's the big deal? I'm sure you were paying attention to Moody's lecture at the start of the year. It's not the spell that's dark, it's the way it's used. And right now, I have a dark wizard trying to kill me, so maybe it's a good thing that I can defend myself."
Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "You know, at some point, we're going to have a big row that ends our friendship."
"Was that tonight?" Harry asked.
"I don't know." Hermione shrugged. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed. Good night, Harry."
"Good night."
Harry waited until the portrait had closed behind Hermione before he pulled on his invisibility cloak and began the long walk back to the dungeons. When he arrived, Draco was waiting for him.
"We need to talk," Draco said. "Now."
A/N: So, a lot of you are probably furious with me right now. That's okay. I promise that there will be romance before the end of this book. Kissy times are on the horizon.