Chapter 54:
Hogsmeade had hardly changed in the fifty years since he'd last been there…and that statement sounded odd, even in the relative privacy of his own thoughts.
Honeydukes was booming as ever, the three broomsticks had an extra broomstick…there were, naturally, differences. Zonkoes had grown even more popular, with great changes in the quality of its stock, and the Shrieking Shack was new. Well, the shack wasn't new. The Shrieking part was, kind of. He smiled just slightly.
Remus and Sirius had been regaling him with stories of their, and consequently his parents, time at Hogwarts through letter for many weeks now.
It was nice spending time with Ron and Hermione again, relaxing. While he might have enjoyed Tom's company (okay, so there was no 'might have' about it, if he wanted to be brutally honest, and he didn't particularly want to be,) it would be a far cry to say that Tom's presence was relaxing. It was more an intense series of events, even when they were both at rest, full of challenge and danger.
It sounded worse when he put it like that.
He was thinking about Tom again. He was supposed to be avoiding that topic and that infuriating prat for two days, not thinking about him! Moving on. It was the pink elephants all over again.
Hogsmeade was busy and bustling when they got there, the Quidditch team surging in one collective movement to pull them in the direction of the Three Broomsticks for a celebratory butterbeer.
Ron was as red as his hair with Fred and George's teasing, though if Harry pinpointed his best friend's emotions correctly - and he'd got a lot better at that since spending time with T…him - there was also a faint tweak of pride interwoven with the indignant frustration in the other's voice as he threatened to jinx his twin brothers. Hermione was tutting and shaking her head, albeit unable to hide her fondness and growing smile.
Life was good, and his anger was draining away from the confrontation he'd had earlier that morning as a result. That topic wasn't good, or simple, not like having a butterbeer with friends.
Try as he might, he couldn't help but revisit that conversation in his mind. Tom hadn't looked hurt, but…if Tom ever strayed near such an emotion, the look on his face after that conversation would have epitomised it exactly. He was going to have one hell of a situation waiting him when they next got back - presuming Tom would talk to him. When Tom had told him to back off, he'd gone and ignored the other snapping point. It wasn't unreasonable that Tom would have the same reaction.
Oh well, the idea of the break was to sort everything out in his head again…so he supposed he was allowed to think on it. A little bit.
He broke out of his thoughts at the sound of Fred and George letting off a small celebratory batch of fireworks - homemade? - much to Madame Rosmerta's ire, before the Weasley twins were shooed out to general laughter, making "I heart you" symbols to their little brother, grinning wickedly, calling out some Quidditch related jokes. It was pandemonium.
He'd missed it terribly.
After the three broomsticks, he, Ron and Hermione split up from the rest of the Quidditch Team to go wandering.
Freed from the rowdy, protective bubble of his Gryffindor friends, Harry grew aware of the looks being directed his way, the hostility. His mind supplied the reason for this immediately - the Prophet article. They probably all thought he was a Death Eater, a new Dark Lord. Idiots. Fools.
Tom and the Slytherins entered the Three Broomsticks as they left, but aside from Zevi's intensely questioning look between him and the young Dark Lord, there was no communication. As predicted, Tom completely blanked him. Immature bastard. He was just doing it to be deliberately annoying…no, that wasn't a hypocritical comment.
They went to browse around Zonkos, much to Hermione's resigned distaste, before placating her with a trip to the bookstore. It was there that Harry had the idea. Auras and Power Levels. He found another, darker looking, book on the subject near the back of the shop, crammed between a book on Warding and one on Magical Manipulation. He found the closeness of the latter rather ominous in its suggestion…even if it didn't actually turn out to have anything to do with Auras and Power levels.
So, he skimmed through it while Hermione browsed the shelves like Ron would in Honeydukes - Ron himself was flicking through a copy of a Chudley Cannons biography, looking only just above the level of 'bored out your mind.'
Knowing Hermione might take a while, he glanced around sheepishly every few minutes, but read on.
Apparently, auras and power levels were very significant for subjects like Arithmancy, and eventually, the inventing of spells itself. He presumed that was why it, a potentially dark book, was here when everyone was panicking about being labelled a Dark Wizard.
Also - oh, he thought he had the answer - regarding a persons individual power level - you could only use controlling magic on someone whose power level was less than yours, if you wanted a strong chance of success.
If the recipient of the magic in question has an equal or greater power level than that of the caster than it becomes difficult to cast the magic successfully without permission, as the greater force would either overwhelm the smaller or two equal forces would just lock eternally until the spell was withdrawn, or conceded to. This can vary within the different of auras of a person (see Auras and Power levels, volume 1) - that was the one he had read! - as dominance and power level can vary regarding aptitude for different types of magic.
Harry stopped reading.
So what did that mean? he was on the same power level as Tom? Impossible. He didn't invent spells and wards like Tom did and Tom was just…well, Tom. And yet…if it were true, why was Tom pointing him to this knowledge? Was it acknowledgement, and if it was acknowledgment, was it only because Tom was now being forced to acknowledge it due to needing his permission? Probably. Tom didn't tend to acknowledge things he didn't like unless it was necessary.
He stuffed the book back into the shelf, wondering if the thought of this was going to go to his head in a fit of hubris. Hopefully not.
He walked back towards the front of the shop, trying to look nonchalant.
"Finally," Ron mumbled. "I thought you were going to turn into Hermione…not that there's anything wrong with Hermione," the red head added, glancing nervously at his other best friend, where she was reading the blurb of some massive tome. Thankfully, Hermione seemed to absorbed to have heard the comment.
Ron relaxed again, causing Harry's lips to twitch slightly in amusement.
"Hermione," Ron called, louder this time, causing the bookworm to look up at them. "Are you ready to go? We've been in here for AGES."
"It's been ten minutes Ronald," Hermione huffed, but she put the book back Harry saw Ron crane his next slightly to see what the title was, and raised his eyebrows. Ron caught his expression and flushed.
"Christmas present ideas," he muttered. Harry smirked.
They headed out the shop towards Honeydukes; they were going to buy a picnic to take to the outer skirts of the village, overlooking the shrieking shack. None of them were frightened of it anymore, after third year.
They had just come out, arms laden with bags of goodies, including his favourite mini packets of treacle tart, when the world exploded.
Hogsmeade was under attack.
Had he ever mentioned that Fate hated him?
A/N: Didn't you just guess that was going to happen? And guess who's going to be introduced soon? Anyway, I hope you managed to like this chapter, despite my less than great writing skills regarding Ron and Hermione =/ Thank you for all the reviews, and alerts, and favourites and everything. The popularity of this fic never ceases to amaze me. Much appreciation…bye. Next chapter should be up relatively soon (not making any promises) because it won't be so much like pulling teeth (Ron and Hermione, I love you! I just can't write you!) and this chapter shames me so much. Ramble done. Bye (for real this time.)