Hey, everyone! How are you all? I hope all of you are doing great.
So...I've been gone for so long, right? Hehe, I am superrr sorry about that! As I had stated countless times before, life is super busy when you are a full-time working college/university student.
But I still felt bad for leaving the story like this and thought that I should give my readers a present - a present in the form of the longest chapter of the story yet!
Yes, folks! This is the longest chapter, so of course, writing it took a lot of time XD
Just to tell you all, I will NOT abandon this story. I won't rest till I've completed it :D
As always, thanks to all of you for the unconditional support and love you show this story, causing it to reach the 20th chapter, woo hoo! :DD
So chillax as you delve into this chapter. Do review and follow. Enjoy!
The next morning brought Saturday on the grounds of Hogwarts in a very quiet manner. Nobody was inclined to get up early, at least not in the 5th year Gryffindor boys' dormitory. Well, with the exception of one boy.
Ron Weasley sat up in his bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes. When his vision cleared up, he saw his roommates understandably still asleep as it was only 7 am.
He didn't intend to wake up so early. No, Ron adored sleep as much as he adored Quidditch or food, all three of which he considered to be the basic necessities of enjoyment and pleasure in life.
Nonetheless, he did know what had made him wake up despite his love for sleep. There was this...gnawing feeling in his chest whose reason he couldn't place. Like something big – or bad – was about to happen.
He had every right to do so, though, because of last night's events. When Harry had tried to contact Sirius several times, but he never answered, which could only mean that the Order's emergency meeting was downright urgent.
The urgency indicated that something serious had occurred – serious enough to call the members of the Order so abruptly. The mystery of what the meeting could be about was worrying Ron, especially since his own parents were part of the Order...
The anxiety in his heart was not decreasing, and sleep wasn't coming back, so Ron decided to just get up for good. He got dressed and went downstairs.
His mind was still racing with thoughts as he trudged down the staircase to reach the meagrely populated common room. He didn't feel like he had the energy to go out yet, so he sank down in his favourite armchair near the fireplace.
To distract himself from his troubling thoughts, he surveyed the common room to see who was up – and was surprised to find Lavender among the limited number of occupants. By the looks of it, she was engaged in a heated argument with Parvati and hadn't spotted him yet.
This became the perfect diversion he needed at the moment, so he observed his girlfriend and her roommate with mild interest. Within a few seconds, Lavender's eyes fell upon him, and she stood up, putting an abrupt end to the conversation.
Ignoring Parvati's annoyed face, she marched up to Ron and plopped down on the chair beside him. He opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it.
"Why are you up so early?"
"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing."
"Well, I asked you first."
"I dunno, honestly. I just woke up." He cocked his head to gaze at her. "Your turn."
Lavender sighed. "Parvati and I...well, we woke up early, too. It was just us, so I decided to question her about her strange behaviour. But our voices got louder, so I suggested we move to the common room because Hermione was still sleeping. Then...you saw the rest."
"Just the end of it. What did she say?"
"She only made lame excuses!" Lavender huffed, not caring if Parvati could hear her, "She said I was overreacting, and that Padma was her twin and she needed to confide in her for some things she cannot trust me enough for..."
"Then there's your cue," Ron stated, "She's backing away from your friendship herself."
"But she doesn't have to be so selfish about it!" Lavender snapped, "I care for her so much and..."
She paused, her eyes filling up with tears. She tried to hide those tears from Ron, but he saw them clear as day.
Ron hated crying. Not because he hadn't cried himself for Merlin knows how long, but because he hated the way crying made other people seem so vulnerable and weak. He despised people who cried more times than they smiled, like Cho Chang. He didn't know how to control such people when they cried, as he was a bit too indifferent when it came to emotions. This was why he could never stand Hermione whenever she cried in front of him – couldn't stand his mum even, although for other reasons.
But with Lavender...it was different. This was the first time she had displayed something close to crying in front of him, and it pained him in a way he had never deemed possible. He realized he also couldn't stand Lavender crying, but because of the prospect of her getting hurt enough to cry. He didn't like seeing her in sorrow.
Now, he could see her wiping her tears away to compose herself.
"Hey. Lavender..."
At the utterance of her own name, the tears she was desperately trying to restrain spilled from her eyes and began streaming down her cheeks.
Ron was positively worried for her now. He reached forward to gently take her hand in his while she pressed her other hand on her mouth to stifle her sobs.
"Come here."
She couldn't move on her own account, but with his help, she was able to sit across his lap and bury her face in his neck, where she started weeping for real.
He held her tight as her whole body racked with sobs. He didn't know how to make her stop crying, but something in him made him think that he should allow her a few moments to let it all out.
So instead of talking to her, he stroked her fine blonde hair and kissed her forehead for comfort. His affection and care brought her around after a few seconds.
"I'm so sorry you had to see this," she sniffed, straightening up to look at him properly.
"No, don't apologise," he said, "I'm here for you."
"It's just these stupid emotions –"
"What did I say? I'm here for you. To act as your snuggling pillow whenever you get an urge to cry."
Despite herself, Lavender laughed at this joke, making Ron feel triumphant. He smiled when she tried to subside her little giggles, after which she regarded him with wide and misty eyes.
"I love you."
"I know," he whispered back, pushing a long lock of her hair behind her ear. Even with Lavender, Ron still couldn't grasp the idea of love. It stumped him, so he was unsure of associating it with her yet.
"I can feel her staring at me," Lavender said. Ron didn't turn around to check if this was true. Instead, he looked out of the window. The weather seemed too white, but he genuinely believed that a change of air was what the two needed.
"Wanna go out for a walk?"
She looked at him, confused. "But it's cold outside."
"Not too much," he said, hoping that was true, "Come on. It will just be us, and we can share our hearts' contents with each other."
She smiled at him. "Okay. I'd love that."
"Great. Let's go."
In truth, he felt like he had to communicate his feelings to soothe himself and his conflicted thoughts. He had recalled Hermione's advice to share his most vulnerable moments with Lavender. Well, now was the time to put her to the test.
After grabbing a quick breakfast from the sparsely populated Great Hall, the two went outside. Even though it was cold, the weather was much pleasanter than the days prior to today, much to the relief of the two because it was also a Hogsmeade weekend. They decided to walk around the frozen Black Lake, which looked beautiful and dangerous at the same time.
Lavender insisted on hearing Ron out first, so he launched into telling her whatever he was feeling. He quickly found her to be a much more suitable audience than the other girl he had been acquainted with – Hermione, who, as opposed to Lavender, interrupted him greatly to throw her opinions at him.
But not Lavender. She listened to him talk without interrupting, her attentive face relaxing him. Hermione was right when she'd said that Lavender was a great listener.
"I can understand what you mean," she said as soon as he finished speaking, "Especially since your parents are a part of it."
"Exactly. But how are we to know what's happening, right?"
She bit her lip, her expression becoming apprehensive. "I dunno, Ron. I feel the same kind of...worry. What if something bad did happen?"
"Then I hope all these private Dumbledore's Army classes come in handy..."
Their walk continued, and they quickly lost track of how many times they had rounded the lake. After Lavender's lament, their conversation flowed into something light and hearty, and in just a few moments, both of them were laughing.
By the time they had decided to stop their walk to take some rest against a tree, Ron felt like all of his distress was gone. He had fun sharing his concerns with Lavender, making him grateful to have her in his life.
So when their lips finally joined under that beechwood tree, he kissed her earnestly. She did so, too, for she had wrapped her arms around his neck. Their embrace caused heat to travel up and down their bodies, creating relief from the otherwise numb cold.
"I love kissing you," Lavender smiled when they departed, "I love you."
There it was again. Ron couldn't understand how she was so comfortable with this confusing concept. He chose to not respond and instead buried his face in her long blonde hair, where he kissed her neck playfully.
"Hey! That tickles!" she laughed.
"I thought you liked my kisses," he murmured against her skin.
But her reply never came. Instead of her feminine voice, a sharp masculine call issued from the back.
"Weasley! What are you doing here?"
It was Malfoy. The mere sound of his voice made Ron tighten his hold on Lavender in frustration.
Typical old prat, he thought angrily. Ruining my day like always.
Malfoy seemed to be thinking along the same lines for his next words were:
"As always, my day was going well, but I had the misfortune to cross paths with you."
Ron noticed real anger in his words instead of his usual sarcasm. If Malfoy was genuinely angry at him, then Ron only got even angrier.
"This isn't your turf!" he finally snapped, turning around to face his mortal enemy, "Shut your bloody mouth before..."
But the rest of his words died out as his eyes fell upon the person standing next to Malfoy.
It was a girl. Long platinum blonde hair – the same colour as Malfoy's, icy blue eyes, and sporting an uninterested look. Ron instantly recognized her. Daphne Greengrass, wasn't it? She was a classmate of theirs – a Slytherin that liked staying in the back, it seemed.
Her presence had caught Ron by surprise. Somebody liked Malfoy?!
"Stop ogling at my girlfriend, Weasely," Malfoy said, pulling Daphne closer to his side as the latter's face turned into a judgemental one.
Ron sighed, feeling his anger return. "I could care less about her." He turned to his own girlfriend. "Let's go before I commit murder."
"The only murder you will be getting yourself into is of your own brain," Malfoy laughed with his usual sarcasm, "But I don't think you even have that in the first place."
Ron ignored him and moved forward, pulling Lavender with him. But instead of budging, she had fixed Malfoy with a glare.
"You're no match for Ron, you know that, right?" she said, raising her eyebrow, "He'll beat you up in seconds."
"Oh, yeah?" Malfoy sneered at her while Daphne rolled her eyes, "He can't even face me, and you think he can beat me up?"
"He doesn't face you because you're an idiot," Lavender bluntly replied, "He has much better ways to spend his time than deal with you."
Malfoy scoffed, addressing Ron, "Really, Weasley? You're gonna let your puny girlfriend stand up for you?"
"Who are you calling puny?!" Lavender snapped.
"Watch your mouth, you imbecile," Daphne spoke up, narrowing her eyes at Lavender, "Do you even know who you're talking to?
Lavender returned her gaze. "Yes. I'm talking to a jerk."
Ron almost laughed. He could swear he had never been this impressed by a girl before. Blunt and defensive Lavender quickly became one of his favourites.
"You're talking to the head of the Inquisitorial Squad," Malfoy hissed at her, "You hear me? The head."
Lavender groaned, "Oh, this Inquisitorial Squad. You guys are really bad at your job, you know?"
Ron couldn't help it. He laughed.
"I agree!" he spoke up, wrapping an arm around Lavender's waist, "You really need to step up your game, Malfoy."
They were really messing with the other couple's nerves. Their pale faces were turning pink with fury.
"You'll regret this, Weasley," Malfoy fumed, "You really will."
"Oh, I'm so scared!" Ron said in mock horror, repeating the other boy's words, "Malfoy is going to hurt me!"
Lavender burst into laughter at this. Daphne gritted her teeth. And Malfoy?
He had enough.
Without warning, he lunged at Ron, catching him off guard.
His hands closed around his throat as the two boys fell down. Ron's head met a hard impact with the snow-ridden ground, causing the skin near his forehead to break open and blood to pour down his face.
This blood temporarily blinded him, letting Malfoy easily trap him on the ground.
"I said you'll regret it," he hissed at Ron before sending a punch directly at his jaw. The collision of their skins was so hard that blood filled Ron's mouth.
The girls shrieked, Malfoy continued his assault, and Ron saw stars in his otherwise blurry vision.
But he wasn't going to give up easily.
He grabbed Malfoy's arm in one swift movement as it pushed back to hit him again and twisted it around. Malfoy howled in pain, his wavering attention allowing Ron to hit him, hard, on his nose.
Now Malfoy had blood on his face, too, as it came gushing out of his nose. This exchange was enough to lead the two of them into a full-blown fight.
They thrashed and beat each other up, their wands laying forgotten. Lavender screamed, "Stop it! Please!" but neither Ron nor Malfoy heard her. Daphne was too surprised to even say anything.
But the fight was reaching its end. Now Malfoy was sprawled on the ground and Ron was leaning over him. The other boy seemed too tired to continue, and Ron could see why. He relished the sight of a black eye, bloody lips, a broken nose, and his too-white skin getting smeared with red. Oh, Malfoy was in bad shape, all right.
Ron's own blood mumbled his words as he snapped at him, "This will teach you –"
But he couldn't finish his sentence. Malfoy had retrieved his wand from the ground and blasted Ron away from him. The spell caused him to land – right on the thorny branches of the tree. The sharp collision opened several more cuts on his arms.
Lavender was beside herself. She was so angry that she pulled her own wand at Malfoy as he scrambled up from the ground.
"I'll make you pay!" she yelled.
But Daphne had her wand in her hand, too. "He asked for it," she hissed, "Try even one spell, and you'll be in a much worse state than your stupid boyfriend."
Lavender fumed – but she dropped her wand arm. The day had seen enough fighting.
Daphne, and Malfoy with his mutilated face, hurried away as Lavender rushed to Ron, who was slowly climbing out of the thorny lot.
"Oh, goodness!" she shouted, helping him, "This didn't have to happen!"
"He was asking for it," Ron replied nonchalantly.
"And look at what he did to you!" Lavender cried.
If the injuries on Malfoy looked bad, they were nothing compared to Ron's. His head wound was pouring blood freely, making his whole face red. He was sporting a black eye, bloody cuts on his lips, and open wounds on his arms. Even his jaw was hurting.
"He should be expelled!" Lavender complained as she wiped some blood off Ron's face with the sleeve of her robes, "The school is mad for letting jerks like him roam freely!"
"This time, I really thought I finally had him."
"You should thank your luck you didn't or it would have meant so much trouble for you," said Lavender.
"You sound just like my mum," Ron grumbled.
"I meant her, of course. She would have never spared you alive."
Ron realized she was right. For the next few seconds, the two tried to think of a spell that could heal his cuts. Both of them knew it, but it had slipped from their minds at the most unfortunate moment.
"This is useless," Lavender finally exclaimed, "Let me."
Ron watched her as she took his face in her hands and properly contemplated it.
But it was too much for her.
"I can't bear to look at you like this," she added, her voice welling up with emotion, "Everything must be hurting."
"No, I'm fine," Ron countered. He was lying obviously; he had never experienced this much pain before. But he was satisfied. He had hurt Malfoy.
"I don't believe you." Lavender shook her head, examining his injuries. "We should go to the hospital wing. Then you can – ugh, what's that?!"
At her outburst, he followed her gaze – and surprise took him by force.
On his arm, just below his elbow, a purplish thing had appeared. It was too big for a pimple. Besides, pimples didn't grow continuously like this thing was doing. It had now reached the size of the Snitch.
Astonishingly, it didn't seem to hurt him at all.
"I think it came from the thorns," he informed Lavender, "Were they magic?"
"I don't know," she said, worried, "I don't like its shape."
"It doesn't hurt, though."
"But it looks dangerous. We should really go to Madam Pomfrey or –"
"Okay, okay. Let's go."
Then, with a little support from Lavender, Ron made his way back to Hogwarts with her. He tried to ignore the looks of surprise from the people around them on the route to the hospital's wing.
Madam Pomfrey was furious.
"Playing around the Oozing Tree!" she yelled, "You're lucky it didn't hit your face!"
"Honestly, madam, we didn't know it was called that," Lavender argued as the patron ordered Ron to change, "It looked like a normal tree."
"Well, of course! That's its special trait!" she said, "Professor Sprout had planted it for certain potions. Just this year!"
"But why didn't anybody warn –"
"I do recall Dumbledore mentioning it at the start-of-the-year feast!"
Lavender was about to argue – until she remembered the students, including herself and Ron, had been wondering about Umbridge at that time and did not hear Dumbledore's speech as a result. So, she decided to close her mouth and say nothing.
Once Ron had changed into pyjamas, he was made to lie down on the bed as the patron bandaged him up. He closed his eyes and let her take care of him as a thundering headache had prevailed over him.
"Is he going to stay for long?" He heard Lavender asking the patron.
"A couple of days," was her tart reply.
She was done in a few minutes. She had magically healed all of his cuts and wounds in seconds, rubbed something on his eye, cleaned his blood, and applied a potion on the strange thing on his arm.
All the while she worked, Lavender watched from a corner with a worried face. She immediately asked Madam Pomfrey as soon as she finished her job, "Is he going to be okay?"
"Yes! He will be fine!" she answered, "Now, please leave. He has to rest."
"About that...I was hoping I could stay with him?"
"Obviously not! He needs some rest!"
"You don't need to, Lavender," Ron spoke up, sounding weak, "You'll miss the Hogsmeade visit."
But Lavender barely heard him as she argued with the patron. In the end, she won.
"But only for a little while!" the patron exclaimed before going into her office.
With a triumphant smile, Lavender pulled up a chair to sit beside Ron's bed. She was relieved to see him back to his old self. Madam Pomfrey had cleared all the blood away and had given him something for his headache – probably that potion they had fetched for Harry. Of course, the patron knew that Ron was in a fight, but Lavender had made her promise that she would not tell a teacher.
Now, it was just the two of them in the empty hospital wing. Lavender reached forward to take Ron's hand in hers. He had finally opened his eyes and was surveying her with them.
"You really didn't have to stay," he told her, breaking the silence.
"I wouldn't have lived with myself if I didn't," she said, "Besides, you hate this place."
It was true. He really did. He was surprised to find she knew that, but he was glad, too. He pulled her hand forward to kiss her knuckles.
"I do," he said, "You're the only thing interesting here."
She smiled and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Loads," he smiled, too, "It was all worth it."
"Well...I know I'm supposed to say that it was bad, but..." she sighed and went on, smirking a little, "I have to admit that I loved Malfoy's face once you were finished with him."
Ron wanted to laugh, but he couldn't because of his ribs.
"He looked almost tolerable," he said.
"Agreed."
They fell quiet again, enjoying each other's presence in all its company. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked in the morning light coming in from a nearby window, her golden locks brightening up like ethereal pieces. He wondered what he had done to get someone like her in his life.
She was thinking something along the same lines, too. At times, she still couldn't believe she had started dating her crush. She really thought that getting your crush to like you back was as rare as being the winner of the Ministry's money prize that her father once told her they held at the office every year. She considered herself to be very lucky.
"You should go," Ron suddenly spoke up, breaking into her thoughts, "I don't want you to miss Hogsmeade."
Lavender sighed, shaking her head. "Oh, Ron...I can miss thousands of Hogsmeade visits if it means that I'd get to be by your side."
This amazed him. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, of course." she shrugged. "You mean the absolute world to me."
"Wow..." he murmured. Her words had led him to ponder. This felt...strange somehow. The importance he held for her made him feel like someone special.
Perhaps the most conflicting issue Ron had with himself was his irrational desire for appreciation. He wanted to feel appreciated for everything he did, right from the smallest endeavour to the biggest task. Being part of a family with many elder brothers had taken a toll on him.
This was why he sometimes didn't like it when people thought he was Harry's sidekick or when Harry and Hermione left him out of some matters. Particularly when Harry achieved an opportunity to glorify himself, but he couldn't, like last year's tournament.
However, he was surprised to feel – that at some extent – all his need for appreciation got diminished, or fulfilled, the moment Lavender had uttered those words of how he meant everything to her. Maybe it's because he had never received this much appreciation from someone before, and maybe because of it, he felt like he was beginning to understand the concept of love for the very first time...
And maybe that's why he was starting to fall in love with her.
All of a sudden, he could see and feel much more clearly now. And he wanted her to know about it.
But he was blocked by Madam Pomfrey's sudden entrance.
"I believe that's more than enough time," she declared, "Out. The boy needs some rest."
Lavender opened her mouth to protest, but Ron beat her to it.
"Can't she stay?" he said, "Her presence is making me feel better."
"Some sleep will make you feel better," the patron argued.
"Come on, you should listen to your patients." He shook his head. "You want them to recover quickly, right? And this is how I can recover quickly."
"So, I'm not leaving," Lavender chimed in.
Soon enough, Madam Pomfrey found out that she couldn't convince the two at all, and grumbling to herself, left them to their own devices. Lavender started to laugh once she disappeared, causing Ron to smile too, even if his cheekbones hurt. The whole situation was pretty funny.
"She's one of the reasons why I dread coming here," Ron said.
"I can understand," Lavender chuckled, "But she's right, though. You need some rest."
"What do you think I'm doing right now?"
"I mean sleep. You must be tired."
He raised his hand to lace his fingers with hers. "I am, but you're my medicine." He paused, smirking a little. "Even if something is missing."
She immediately knew what he wanted, so she leaned down and kissed him gently. He pushed his weak arm up to brush her hair aside as he wallowed in her taste, her warmth, and the absolute protection she was somehow ejecting. Her skin felt soft to him. His lips left hers and made a path from her cheek to her ear, where he whispered.
"Hey, Lavender?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you, too."
A few minutes before, Hermione had woken up in her dormitory – to discover that she was the only person left there. It momentarily surprised her until a much more important thought befell her mind.
Today is the day when Harry will complete his story with Rita, and it'll get published in the Quibbler.
It was a Hogsmeade Saturday, and they had decided that the second part of Harry's interview should be done and finalized today. The anticipation of the plan made Hermione quickly get up and get ready.
As she was tightening her scarf around her neck, another thought came to her mind. The question of what sort of emergency meeting the Order must be having to summon its members so suddenly.
But Hermione decided it was a worry that should be consulted later. Right now, the most important thing was that interview.
Brushing the creases from her skirt, she walked down the stairs, entered the common room – and bumped right into Harry.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, flushing red. "Sorry, didn't see you there."
"It's fine. I just entered the common room, too. You okay?"
"Yes. I was thinking. About your interview."
"Right," he nodded as he exited the Tower with her. "I was waiting for you. Ron already left."
"How strange," she commented, not thinking about it much, "I've brought Rita for the occasion. She's right here. In my...book bag."
As she said those words, Hermione realized she had neither the jar nor the said bag with her.
"Oh, no!" She slapped her forehead. "I was so distracted, I forgot it in my dormitory!"
"Go fetch it. I'll wait for you," said Harry.
"No, I'll meet you in the Great Hall."
With that, she turned around and bounded back to the Gryffindor tower.
Hence, Harry made the rest of his way alone. He wasn't aware of his surroundings as he was lost in thought, wondering about the reason why Sirius had refused to show up in the mirror. The likelihood of an emergency meeting had created a pit of anxiety in Harry's gut. He could only hope that nothing too alarming was taking place.
With his head up in the clouds, he entered the Great Hall – but someone blocked his path as soon as he stepped in.
"Hi, Harry!" It was Cho.
"Oh, hey."
"Are you feeling any better now?"
"Yes, I'm fine." He smiled at her to emphasize his point. "I'm feeling great."
"That's good. And...um..." she fell silent, looking at him expectantly before adding, "We'll visit Hogsmeade today."
"I know. What about it?"
Cho didn't respond and widened her eyes instead, like in giving a clue. But Harry couldn't understand.
"What?" he asked, completely lost.
She sighed, shaking her head. "You can take me somewhere."
He was about to ask her again when a realization struck him.
A date! She means a date.
"Oh, you want me to take you out on a date?"
She smiled, confirming his suspicion. "Yes! Madam Puddifoot's Teashop would be really nice for it."
So, she already had a place planned. Harry was grateful, though. At least he wouldn't have to decide where he should take her.
"Okay. Let's go."
"Great!" she beamed. "See you then."
He barely opened his mouth to reply before she whizzed off to the Ravenclaw table. Shaking his head, he took a seat at the Gryffindor table.
Why do girls have to be so cryptic? he thought. Just say what you want to say!
"Hey, Harry," said Neville, who was sitting across from him.
"Hey, Neville." Looking around, Harry realized Ron wasn't present. "Have you seen Ron?"
"Nope."
That was strange of his best friend – to disappear out of the blue. But where would he go? He must be somewhere in the castle.
Disregarding this thought, Harry started his breakfast. At that exact moment, Hermione appeared by his side.
"Got her," she told him, pulling a juice jug towards herself. "Hi, Neville! Where's Ron?"
"I dunno."
"I was wondering about that, too," Harry added, "He's not here."
"Hmm...neither is Lavender," Hermione noted, surveying their table, "I bet he's with her. Parvati is here, though. I'll ask her."
"No, don't bother –"
But Harry's words were cut short as Hermione had already left her seat and approached the other girl.
"Hermione seems jittery today," Neville remarked.
"Honestly, when is she not jittery?" Harry replied, making both of them laugh.
Meanwhile, Hermione's conversation with Parvati was not going well...
"Hi, Parvati!" She greeted her with a smile. "Do you know where Lavender –"
"No, I don't. And I don't care about her whereabouts."
The answer was so abrupt that Hermione stared at her.
"I just asked you a question."
"And I gave you an answer," Parvati tartly replied, "Now, can I please have my breakfast in peace?"
Hermione shook her head and went back to her spot without another word.
"Somebody's in a really bad mood," she told Harry when she rejoined him, "I reckon they had a fight – Lavender and Parvati."
"But what Ron's got to do with it?"
"Search me." Hermione shrugged. "He probably took Lavender out to cheer her up, who knows?"
But Harry couldn't reply. A cacophony of wings had begun bellowing from above as owls entered and littered the Great Hall, dropping mail into their owners' hands.
The same brown owl dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet near Hermione's juice jug. She immediately opened it.
Harry downed his spoon in his porridge, waiting for her to tell him about today's news, but she unusually grew silent.
"Hermione?" said Harry, raising his eyes, "What's happen –"
But the rest of his words died out as he noticed the change in the Great Hall. It had grown quieter. Much quieter. Harry saw students staring shell-shocked at the Daily Prophet. The news must be very alarming.
With a thudding heart, he noticed Neville reading his own subscription with wide eyes. What was going on?
He turned back to his best friend to ask her this very question, but she clutched his shoulder before he could even say anything.
"Harry," she whispered, her eyes wide with horror.
"What? What is it?" he demanded. He couldn't see the newspaper.
Instead of replying, Hermione pushed the Daily Prophet in front of him, the page encompassing the breaking news wide open.
Harry read the headline – and his mouth dropped open. His palms grew cold, and his heart rate increased as he read the article.
Ten Notable Prisoners Escaped Azkaban Last Night.
As astonishing as it may sound, ten of Azkaban's prisoners were noted missing from its cells. The escapade was estimated to have occurred late last night. Walls were broken down, indicating that someone powerful had helped with the escape or that the Azkaban guards were led on easily. The Ministry has begun the search for the escaped prisoners.
"We are on the case," said William Davis, the head of the Ministry police, "Our investigation led us to discover that someone from the outside had helped these prisoners escape. Alarmingly, none of the Azkaban's guards could be found on the premises as well. The department has taken responsibility to guard the prison as we continue our search for the escapees."
These ten prisoners were all identified to be You-Know-Who's followers, right from his inner circle. Hence, it is advised that the public should stay on their guard. These people are highly dangerous, but they will be caught in no time at all thanks to the Ministry's skills and efficiency.
Below the article, the ten prisoners were pictured. Five of them stayed in Harry's mind as he read their names and took in their faces slowly.
Bellatrix Lestrange
Mulciber
Rudolph Lestrange
Antonin Dolohov
Augustus Rookwood
He had recognized them. All five of them. He had seen them in Dumbledore's Pensieve last year, where a trial was held for their sentence.
Ten Death Eaters. Out in the world...
Harry set the newspaper down and rubbed his temple. Was this the reason why the Order had an emergency meeting?
"Harry?" Hermione touched his shoulder again. "Are you okay?"
"I..." he trailed off, not knowing what to say. "Hermione, these – Death Eaters. They've escaped."
"I know."
"They're out there. Which means..." He looked at the pictures again. "He's getting stronger. He's gathering his old army and recruiting creatures. The dementors – they were gone."
Hermione sighed and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "It's bad, I know. But Harry...they can't hurt you. Not here, with Dumbledore around."
"But what about the innocent people out there, Hermione?" he bellowed, "They will not hesitate to kill them at all!"
She bit her lip apprehensively. "Yes, but they wouldn't dare to do anything rash with the Ministry and the Order watching."
"These aren't normal people, Hermione," Neville spoke up, causing her and Harry to look at him. He was repeatedly tapping the Death Eater, Bellatrix's, picture with an unusual shine in his eyes. Hatred.
"They're lunatics, the whole lot of them," he added, "Their favourite hobby is murdering and torturing people, which is why they quickly went back to You-Know-Who."
"But still..." Hermione paused. She couldn't stomach whatever the two boys were saying.
"Look," she began again, "They can't be just killing machines! Many elaborate schemes and devising go into their plans, and after his long period of exile, Voldemort has to take careful steps. Especially right now."
Neville's eyes popped up at the sound of the name while Harry went on without missing a beat. "They create elaborate schemes to do what? Kill people! In the end, their motive is always killing people." His jaw grew set. "I wish I could wipe them off. Completely."
"Same," Neville said in a little voice, staring at Bellatrix again.
"But you're missing the point here!" Hermione argued, "They have escaped, meaning everyone who could put them behind bars again, namely the Ministry, and everyone who's looking for them to stop their madness, namely the Order, is out to get them! They wouldn't dare to do anything that can make them visible to the public eye!"
Despite her outburst, Harry and Neville didn't look convinced and looked rather distraught. So, Hermione continued with her reasoning.
"I'm saying you don't need to worry about anything. At least not right now because the whole group would be plotting, and that's something to worry about later."
"Meaning that I have to worry, regardless of time," Harry remarked.
Hermione sighed. "Come on, Harry. I know you're getting my point."
Yes, he was getting her point. He could understand completely what she was trying to tell him, which was partly why he was glad to have someone like Hermione, who could put some sense and logic in his brain when he was not thinking straight, in his mess of a life.
But how could he not worry? Azkaban and its guards were the only things, apart from Dumbledore and the Order, protecting them from the wrath of Dark Magic. Its demolishment was a valid cause of concern, especially in Harry – the person these Death Eaters were ultimately targeting, and with Dumbledore disappearing for such long periods of time, who could protect him? Except for his own skills and sense, which were still insufficient for a situation like this, who was stopping them from pleasing Voldemort's vengeance?
"We have to tell Ron," Hermione was saying as Harry zoned back in, "It would be better coming from us than some random student."
"But where is he?" said Harry, staring absentmindedly at Rookwood's manic face.
"Oh, I don't know! I wish he would have informed us or something!"
Despite Hermione's complaint, the pair learned about Ron's whereabouts just a second later, and from the last person they would expect to hear this piece of information from...
"That stupid Weasley," Malfoy fumed on the Slytherin table beside them, sporting a bandaged arm that he was presenting to Crabbe and Goyle, "If my condition had allowed me, I would have finished him! But he was already in a bad state when I was done with him."
Hermione sucked in a breath as Malfoy went on, "He thinks he's gotten away with it. But no. We'll show him, and that stupid girlfriend of his, what you get when you mess with the group."
Goyle cracked his knuckles at this, making Malfoy smile. Hermione looked at Harry with silent horror, but he could feel his fists clenching.
So Malfoy and Ron had gotten into a fight. But the way that git was talking about his best friend was making Harry furious. If Malfoy had Crabbe and Goyle, then Ron had Harry...and Hermione as well, but she wouldn't approve of a brawl.
"I think he's in the hospital wing," Hermione whispered to him, breaking into his thoughts.
"Yes," Harry replied shortly, "But first, I have to do something."
Hermione's eyes flashed. She knew what he was thinking.
"You will not approach Malfoy."
"Hermione, you don't understand. I'm this close to killing him for good and doing everyone a favour –"
"Oh, Harry. Stop this. You can't just take your revenge with downright violence."
"So what? His dad is a Death Eater."
"And? That's got nothing to do with us. Not right now." She shook her head. "Right now, we have to find Ron. Poor him. I hope he's okay."
"You know how Malfoy likes to exaggerate things," Harry assured her, "He'll be fine."
The devastating news had made them lose their appetite, so Harry and Hermione got up and exited the Great Hall to go to the hospital wing.
Their hunch was proven right. Upon entering the premises after gaining permission from Madam Pomfrey, they found Ron and Lavender fast asleep, her face snuggling close to his.
"Aw, they look so comfortable," Hermione cooed.
"Yeah, but we have to wake them up." Harry slapped Ron's other shoulder. "Hey, mate. Get up!"
His voice made Ron stir, the movement causing Lavender to wake up, too.
"What?" he said groggily as she rubbed her eyes.
"So, you're going around fighting Malfoy, hm?" Harry asked with an amused look.
"How did you know that?"
"Believe it or not – from Malfoy," Hermione said, noting his face. He looked all right to her, but one part of his arm was covered in a bandage.
"I bet he got on your nerves, didn't he?" Harry said.
"Yep."
"Still, Ron. Getting into a fight is so uncalled for." Hermione scolded him.
Before he could reply, Lavender had flown to his rescue. "He didn't start it, Hermione! Malfoy did. And frankly, he really deserved it. His face –" Lavender laughed, "His face was so pleasing to look at once Ron was done with him."
"Really? You managed to do that?" Harry asked with widened eyes
"Yep, it was all black and blue," Ron grinned.
"Wow. You did him a favour, honestly," said Harry, "Made his face look at least a little appealing."
Laughter circulated among the three at this while Hermione tsked-tasked with disapproval. "Oh, you people. Stop treating this like an achievement."
"What do you mean? It is an achievement!" Ron threw his arms out, his pain forgotten. "Hey, I beat up Malfoy! Where's my Special Services to the School award?"
"Umbridge would rather die than give it to you," Lavender said, doubling up with laughter.
"Don't tell me you don't like Malfoy getting tussled," Harry said to Hermione, raising his eyebrow, "Would you like to defend him or something?"
Hermione's anger fuelled up by his words. "Of course not! I hate him as much as you do! It just wasn't right for Ron. Look where this fight led him – to the hospital wing! And pray, tell me how long do you have to stay here?"
"A couple of days," Ron said in a low voice, "But it's because of the thing I got from that magical tree."
"What?"
"He got hit by the Oozing Tree near the Lake," Lavender answered, rolling her eyes, "Courtesy of Malfoy, of course. But it's getting better."
Hermione sighed, "Never mind that now. Harry and I need to tell you two something important. Harry?"
Upon the utterance of his name, Harry took a deep breath. He was suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the awful news he had to convey to his friend.
With Hermione's help, he told Ron and Lavender everything. Their faces shifted from mildly amused to perplexed, then to utter shock and horror.
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Ron exclaimed.
"It's true," Hermione said sadly, "They've escaped. All of them."
"So, the emergency meeting..." Lavender trailed off, her thoughts capturing her.
"Yeah. We think so, too." Harry nodded. "This is why we couldn't find anybody."
"I wonder if we can find them now?" Hermione wondered.
"Even if we can, they wouldn't tell us a darn thing," Harry replied with gritted teeth before breathing out to calm himself, "I wish I was in the Order. It's so bloody unfair."
A tense silence fell among them following his words. Everyone was thinking about the current circumstances.
But that silence only lasted for some seconds because Madam Pomfrey had reappeared. "That's enough. It's been more than 5 minutes. Out!"
Harry and Hermione exchanged looks with each other before regarding Ron. "You want something from Hogsmeade?" Harry asked in hopes of making Ron feel better for missing the trip.
But he was all smiles. "Nah, I'm fine. Just want Lavender here with me." He reached forward and took her hand. Hermione beamed at the small gesture. "What about you, Lavender?"
"No, thanks."
After bidding their goodbyes, the two left the hospital wing, their conversation never faltering.
"I think we have to grow more serious now," Hermione declared as they walked through the entrance hall to join the throng of students waiting to go to Hogsmeade. "Meaning we have to speed up the pace of your classes, you have to treat Occlumency earnestly, and we have to finish up your interview today without exceptions."
Harry was about to reply – before her last line got stuck with him.
"Finish my interview today?"
"Well, of course!" she said, patting her book bag, "I've got her here."
Harry's mouth ran dry. He wanted to slap himself for his stupidity. Why didn't he remember that he had to commit to such an important task today when he agreed to take Cho out?!
More importantly, how was he going to tell that to Hermione? Especially since he couldn't back out of the date now?
"We should go to the Hog's Head again," Hermione was saying, completely oblivious to Harry's panic, "And of course, Luna should join us, too. I reckon that –"
"Uh, Hermione?"
"Yes?"
Harry didn't know how to phrase his words. He knew for certain that she wouldn't like his slip.
"Um...I kind of promised..." he trailed off, nervous.
"Promised what?"
"Promised Cho that I'll take her out on a date."
Just like he'd expected, Hermione's eyes widened. "What?"
"Yes."
"When did this happen?"
"Just after you left to get your stuff." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'm sorry. I guess I was too lost in my pondering. She approached me first, and I agreed to the date without thinking about it, completely forgetting my interview."
Hermione pursed her lips. Harry feared that she was about to scold him, so he declared before she could get the chance. "Look, I'm sorry. But you know how Cho is. She wouldn't like it if I cancelled the date, which is unfortunate because I can't miss the interview either."
Truth be told, Hermione was furious with him. How could he forget literally the most important thing scheduled for today?
But despite her anger, her heart softened for him. She knew he meant well, and the interview would only take about half an hour. Harry could easily do that, go on his date with Cho, and even have enough time to hang out with Hermione herself.
Plus, he was super cute.
"Harry..."
"Yes?" he said nervously, waiting for the blow-up.
"It's all right. Don't worry." She smiled, surprising him. "Your mind is very unsettled these days, so I cannot blame you. Go on your date with Cho, then you can meet up with Luna and me in the Hog's Head."
"Wait, seriously?" he asked with wide eyes.
"Seriously. I'm not mad, honest."
"Cool. Thanks, Hermione!" he grinned at her. "You're brilliant."
She giggled at the compliment. "I know, but I need you in the pub by 10."
"Noted."
As if on cue, Cho appeared from the crowd, addressing Harry and ignoring Hermione just like she always did. "Hey, Harry."
"Hey." He offered her his arm, which she immediately took in her hands. Something in Hermione burned up at this gesture. She just couldn't help it.
But the feeling disappeared when Harry smiled at her. "See you later."
She bade him goodbye before watching him take Cho amidst the group that had set off for Hogsmeade.
Hugging her book bag by her side protectively, Hermione also set off among the crowd, but to find a certain girl with the turnip earrings...
Although he appeared calm and collected from the outside, Harry was a nervous wreck from the inside. He could barely hear whatever Cho was saying to him as they strolled the village's street. He still couldn't fathom he was out on a date! A real, official date!
He thanked his lucky stars that Cho had already chosen a place for them. If it weren't for her, he would have just stayed in these streets and completely forgotten about a popular place like the Three Broomsticks. He hardly talked as Cho babbled on beside him. But despite her eagerness to talk, he could sense that she was nervous, too, and was probably trying to fill the air with her voice in angst that a dead silence would befall them if she stopped. And honestly? He didn't blame her.
"Ohh, this is so cute!" she suddenly exclaimed, interrupting his reverie.
They had reached a shop that sold artefacts. Cho was pointing at a box where a fairy jumped out of it in intervals, flashed some dust off its wings, and disappeared again.
"Er...it's something, I guess," said Harry. He didn't like the fairy's grimace.
They continued on their way among the busy streets of the village where many familiar faces crossed their path. Cho must have stopped at least five times to talk to this person or that one. She was very popular, and although Harry was quite popular himself, of course, he didn't feel like talking to anyone today.
Just when he was thinking when they would reach their destination, they arrived at Madam's Puddifoot's teashop. One look at it sank Harry's heart. It was a little shop-like restaurant, painted only with pink and white colours, and clearly looked like a place meant only for couples. Cheesy and tacky, if Harry might add.
He was dispirited to find out that he was right. The inside looked even tackier and more adhesive. White round tables were set around the big room, the roaring fireplace was altered to showcase red and pink colours, and little hearts adorned the walls. Such was the state of the teashop that Harry wanted to leave and never come back.
But that wasn't even the worst part about the place. Harry was bewildered to see that the only customers were couples. Couples littered almost every table, and by the looks of it, they were the couples who were utterly in love or adored each other too much.
But Harry and Cho weren't in love. It was their first date!
Despite his conflicted feelings, he decided to keep quiet about them. Cho really seemed to like this place, which Harry observed as they took their seats at a free table, so he thought he should manage.
Surprisingly, Cho hadn't said a single word since they entered the room. She just observed their surroundings with a misty look on her face.
She spoke up just when Harry was reaching the same conclusion himself.
"Cedric and I used to come here a lot."
Judging by the couples, it wasn't hard to believe.
"That must have been nice," Harry said awkwardly.
"Mm..." Cho cupped her chin in her palm and got lost in her daydreams. Harry had no idea what to do. In fact, he had no idea what to do on a date. Should they just order, talk a little and then leave?
Cho wasn't being talkative at all. The place had brought on many memories of her past relationship, but this wasn't suiting Harry. He was beginning to sincerely believe that his time was getting wasted here. He should have been finishing up that interview or they shouldn't have come to this teashop at all.
He was just about to ignore everything and order when a stout little witch, who could only be Madam Puddifoot herself, came striding towards their table.
"What can I get for you two dearies today?" she asked with a big smile.
"What do you have here –"
"We'll have tea and your special sugar cookies," Cho interrupted him, flashing a sweet smile to the witch, "Both of us."
"Okay," the owner said in a sing-song voice, "Anything else?"
"No. We're good."
"You'll definitely like this place," Cho declared as soon as the other witch left, "I gave the order because you've never been here before, but I have. And countless times." She lowered her gaze. "Cedric loved those sugar cookies, you know?"
Harry sighed, fighting the urge to rub his forehead in frustration. If she kept talking about Cedric, he was going to get up and leave.
"Madam Puddifoot really liked him," Cho went on, ignoring her 'boyfriend,' "But then again, how could she not? He had a knack for charming ladies."
"I see..."
"Yes..." she averted her eyes to the white wood of the table before asking. "So, what about you? How are you?"
The question caught Harry by surprise. Cho really moved with unpredictability.
"I'm good, I guess."
"What happened to you yesterday?"
"I..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. He couldn't readily tell her what was going with him. Trust came first, but he knew she wouldn't understand the ordeal either.
"It's a bit complicated, so let's just leave it."
"Okay, then..."
An uncomfortable silence followed these words. It was so ironic to think that the two, a couple, were out on a date, yet they couldn't find anything to talk about. What kind of a relationship was this?
But Harry didn't want to believe that too soon. Maybe it was the jitters of the first date that were affecting them, or him at least.
Amidst the too-loud silence in the otherwise noisy room, Cho seemed to be waiting for something. She had this expectative look on her face as if waiting for Harry to do something, but Harry had no clue.
He racked his brain for ideas, but couldn't come up with anything. What was he supposed to do? Then again, what were you supposed to do on the first date? This question was still baffling him.
He looked at the neighboring table for ideas – and instantly recognized the male part of the couple. Roger Davies, the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Ron had once dubbed him to be the biggest flirt Hogwarts had ever seen, and judging by the look Roger was regarding his date with, Ron was most probably right.
But Harry couldn't gaze at Cho like that. He wasn't love-struck when it came to her. Honestly, he sometimes couldn't believe himself. He had a crush on her, and now that they were together, why was he struggling so much?
He observed that Roger, amidst his wistful gazing, was also holding his girlfriend's hand across the table. Involuntarily, Harry looked at Cho's hand, which was suspiciously resting on the table.
Oh no. I can never reach out and hold her hand, he thought.
The truth was, even if he couldn't understand it himself yet, Harry had no problem showing Cho affection when his friends were around, but when they were alone, all that inclination vanished. Holding hands was difficult, that was so sure.
Maybe I should mention Roger, Harry thought.
"So...Davies over there." He nodded towards the said boy. "He's your team captain."
"Yes. I don't like him at all."
"What? Why?"
"He's just too clingy," Cho answered, rolling her eyes, "Before the Yule Ball last year, he asked me out three times! Even when I told him I was going with Cedric. I have no idea how he scored a date with that Beauxbatons girl."
"Maybe because of his looks..."
"He's not that handsome," she said, making a disgusted face.
"Hmm..." Harry said, knowing that the conversation was fading away. Why wasn't she making an attempt at small talk? Why did he have to be one who had to make an effort?
He detested the return of the awkward silence, so he thought of ideas for a good conversation. Should he bring up today's news? Nope, definitely not.
But he was in for a surprise.
"Did you read the Daily Prophet today?" Cho asked, freezing him in time.
When he found his voice, he answered, "Yeah, I did. Ten Death Eaters got out."
"Can you believe it? Ten of them are free now." She shook her head, pursing her lips. "Free. Just roaming around good people, ready to strike."
"They can't strike so soon," Harry said in a way of assurance, "They are very strategic and Vo – I mean, their leader is extremely clever."
"Their leader..." Cho's eyes shone as she said this, "You-Know-Who."
"Uh...yeah."
"That jerk. I hate him so much."
"Who doesn't?"
"He kills so easily, and so do his followers." She sighed, frowning. "That's why I believe they would start killing as soon as they find their wands. That's what they do best."
Harry shook his head. "No, they cannot do that yet. They've just escaped and they can't risk being seen by the Ministry."
"Oh, I don't think they care, especially since they lost their Azkaban guards."
"Why won't they worry? Fudge may not believe that You-Know-Who has returned, but he will surely worry about the prisoners escaping." He sighed, fiddling with his fingers, "Besides, Hermione did say that killing right away will definitely not be a part of their scheme."
Cho groaned. "Then she doesn't know one thing about the Death Eaters."
Harry almost laughed at this. "Of course she does. She's my best friend, you know? A good part of her time here goes into researching about the Dark Arts to help me."
"Are you always needing her help?" Cho asked, leaning forward.
Harry was surprised by her urgency. "Well...yeah. More or less. She's very smart and logical, and I'm dumb and intuitive." He shrugged, smiling sheepishly, "So I'm always needing her help."
"She's a Muggle-born, isn't she?"
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"Nothing...except for the fact that she can't say things about the Ministry if her family doesn't have magic in their blood." Cho rolled her eyes again. "I'm sorry for saying this...but she acts like she knows too much when she doesn't."
Harry was dumbfounded to hear her say such things about Hermione so boldly. His fists clenched up in anger, but he calmed himself down before asking coolly, "You're wrong because she is brilliantly knowledgeable. She reads a lot, so I guess she gains all that knowledge from there."
"Yet she's not in Ravenclaw."
"What –" he stopped to regain his composure. Okay, now she was really getting on his nerves. "Hermione is very smart, but she's also very brave. She knows how to be courageous and logical at the same time." He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know why we're having this conversation."
"Well, you brought her up!"
"Yes! But what's the point in argui–"
"Here you go, my dearies."
Madam Puddifoot had returned with their order, interrupting them at the perfect time. Cho still looked disgruntled as the other witch placed the cookies and tea on their table, but Harry could care less. Why should he? When she insulted his best friend like it was nothing?
A tense silence fell upon them as they busied themselves with their order. Much to his disappointment, Harry liked neither the cookies nor the tea. They were too sweet for his taste. He was tempted to order something else, but he knew Cho wouldn't like it, so he stayed put.
Apparently, she was still mad at him for mentioning Hermione on their first date. For the life of him, he couldn't understand this...rivalry that the two girls seemed to have with each other. They didn't even talk, so he could only fathom why they had to be so bothered by the other.
"Did you see Cedric?"
Cho's abrupt question pulled him out of his thoughts. "Hmm?"
"Did you...did you see Cedric? As he...fell?"
Instead of answering her, Harry contemplated Cho with disbelief. Was she seriously asking him about that night?
Her persistence refused to waver. "Did you watch him as he fell to the ground?"
He didn't want to relive that night, especially not right now when he just had a very serious episode with Voldemort possessing his mind. He didn't want to get vulnerable in any way.
But he had no choice and had to answer her.
"Yeah. I did see him."
"Who killed him?"
"It was –" Wormtail's face flashed in his mind. "It was his loyal servant."
"Did he die immediately or –"
"What do you mean? Of course he died immediately!" Harry snapped without meaning to, "Did you not study about the killing curse?"
Cho shrank back, her soft features adopting an aggrieved look. "I know, but I just wanted to confirm..." she paused to take a deep breath. Harry dreaded that she was about to cry, and the last thing he needed was her sobbing in this place with so many couples around. People might think he was mistreating her, and he simply did not want that.
"See, this is why I didn't want to tell you," he informed her in the most comforting tone possible, "I don't want you to get upset."
"I know, I know," she said, her voice faltering with emotion, "But I miss him so terribly sometimes, and I don't know the full story of his last moments." She sniffed, her eyes tearing up. "I just want to know what happened to him, but nobody's going to tell me."
Harry sighed. This was honestly the unluckiest situation he could get himself into. He wanted to cheer her up, but that meant he had to tell her about that night. And telling her about that night would upset her.
"It's just so sad to think," Cho spoke up, her voice indicating that she was dangerously near tears, "That even though he was so dear to me, I don't know how his last moments went."
"They weren't exactly...pleasant," Harry replied, "You wouldn't like them."
"That doesn't matter." She sniffed again and looked at him with doleful eyes. "Please, Harry. Will you tell it to me?"
Harry groaned a little, showing her clearly how frustrated he was with her. "Fine. But if you get upset, don't blame me."
And just like that, he started to recount the tales of that fateful night, making sure he talked in hushed tones so other people couldn't hear what he was talking about.
Over the sweet delicacies laden on their table, they conversed about bitter things. Actually, Harry was the only one talking; Cho just sat and listened to him with wide glossy eyes.
When he started telling her how Cedric had manifested from Voldemort's wand, he realized this was a very, very bad idea. Not for her, but for himself. He vividly pictured the terrible battle he was forced to pursue with his mortal enemy, the pain he had felt from the Cruciatus curse, how he had seen his parents, and most disturbingly – how Voldemort had looked like after he resurrected in a whole being. Just thinking about him and envisioning his face made Harry's scar hurt.
Recounting the events of that night with Rita Skeeter was much different than recounting them with Cho. For one thing, Rita remained indifferent (being encased in that jar must have done something to her) as she jotted down his story, but Cho was regarding him with sorrowful eyes with silent tears streaming out of them.
The thought of Rita made him abruptly stop talking and look at his watch. His heartbeat quickened – it was 10:05! He was supposed to meet Hermione!
"Oh shoot, I gotta go," he said, standing up so quickly that the table rattled.
Instead of replying right away, Cho stared at him with an aghast face.
"What? But you weren't finished!"
"I'll tell it to you later," Harry told her hurriedly, "Right now, I have to meet Hermione. An urgent matter."
He quickly realized that mentioning Hermione was an extremely bad idea. Cho's face turned from tearful to supremely annoyed in a flash.
"Of course, you have to meet Hermione Granger," she said, rolling her eyes, "When it comes to her, it's always urgent, right?"
"What are you on about?" Harry snapped at her, "It's something really important."
"You mean that girl is really important to you," Cho shot back, narrowing her eyes, "And so important that you're willing to cut our date short because of her!"
Harry sighed, rubbing his temple. He was aware that almost everyone in the teashop was watching their scuffle with interest, and Cho's anguished, teary face was not helping.
"Look, I don't have time to do this right now," he told her, "I'm sorry for leaving like this, but you have to understand my dilemma."
To his horror, Cho burst into tears.
"You don't care about me, do you?" she cried, "You only care about that Hermione Granger!"
That was enough.
"What does Hermione got to do with anything?!" Harry exploded, ignoring the looks he was gaining from his surroundings, "Stop bringing her up, all right?" He began sifting through his coat pockets. "I'll pay. You don't need to –"
"You're selfish. Purely selfish," Cho talked over him, completely disregarding whatever he was saying, "You just care about your own responsibilities and don't care about me or my feelings!"
She stood up, her anger coming in the form of tears as she snapped at him, "Feel free to go to her while I'll just live with my own sadness. How does that sound?"
"Cho, please lis –"
But he stopped, for she, in a mixture of angry huffs and sobs, had turned around and left the teashop. Her exit created a dead silence in the place as every person had stopped talking to look at the argument. Harry's frustration was at a peak, but he still held his composure as he put some money on the table while addressing Madam Puddifoot, who was also watching them with bewilderment.
"Here. Sorry for the disturbance," he told her in a soft voice before immediately leaving the place himself. He knew he wouldn't be coming back here, ever.
Cho's abrupt exit had agitated his spirits. Did every girl act like this? He thought, shoving his hands in his pockets as he made his way to the Hog's Head. If they did, then he wasn't sure if he wanted a relationship.
He hoped the interview could brighten up his mood a little bit...
The clock had struck, indicating that it was 10:15, but the door still didn't open to reveal the person all of them were waiting for. Hermione kept checking her watch unconsciously, knowing too well that Harry was late, but she could bet anything that Cho was giving him a hard time for leaving.
She looked up for the umpteenth time to appraise the other people sitting at her table. Rita looked hassled – and slightly annoyed, too. Hermione had enchanted her appearance to make her look different, lest people here, though sparse in number, recognized her. The other companion on their table was Luna Lovegood herself. Hermione had thought that it would be a good idea to have her around when Harry finished his interview so they could hand her the manuscript directly.
Now, she smiled nervously at the other two. "He's a bit late, but he'll be here soon."
"He'd better be," Rita replied tartly, grimacing at the cup of tea Hermione had ordered for her. "I don't like this place."
"Well, I like this place, so you should, too," Hermione told her, sipping her own tea, "What about you, Luna?"
"It's nice," Luna answered, her blue eyes popping with wonder-like excitement, "Reminds me of the storage room we had for the Gulping Plimpies."
"Oh...I see," said Hermione uncertainly. She hoped Harry would arrive quickly, or she was going to lose her mind in the company of the other two.
As if he had heard her prayer, Harry entered the pub, some snow letting itself into the place as he opened the door.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally! You're here. We've been –"
But she stopped for she had caught a look at his face. He looked...annoyed.
"Yeah, sorry about that," he said, taking a seat beside her, "Got caught up in an argument. Hey, Luna.'
"Hello, Harry Potter," the girl replied, smiling brightly, "You look a bit troubled. Did you see some Long-tailed Br –"
"We should start," Hermione interrupted before Luna could continue with her absurdity, "Rita?"
The reporter sighed and fixed her ordinary black glasses that Hermione had swapped for her fancy ones. "Yes, I am ready."
"Great. Remember, I've got an eye on you," Hermione warned her before addressing Harry, "Let's begin."
"Cool," he replied nonchalantly.
And so, the latter half of his interview initiated. Amidst the comfortable – and private environment that only the Hog's Head could offer, Harry picked up where he left off last time and told Rita everything in detail. It was good that the pub had gotten empty when he had started. The fewer people, the better it was.
Amusingly, they were done in only half an hour. With pursed lips, Rita smoothed out the parchment and handed it to Hermione. "I've done your job."
"Yes," Hermione answered distractedly as she was busy scanning the report with excitement.
"Will you let me go now?"
This caught her attention. Hermione passed the parchment to Harry and regarded Rita with a somber look. "Believe me, I really want to set you free. But we still can't trust you yet."
"Then what about my fee?" Rita replied, narrowing her eyes at the girl. "I want payment for this. Don't expect me to do something for you, completely free of cost, when you've kept me in a jar for Merlin knows how long. This is a case of kidnapping!"
Harry saw Hermione bite her lip. Rita's words had affected her.
"She wouldn't have kidnapped you if you weren't such a horrible reporter," he spoke up in Hermione's defense, "And don't fret so much. I'll pay you."
"No, Harry. I'll do it," Hermione countered, sighing, "She's right. I have technically kidnapped her, so I'll pay."
"But it was my interv–"
"Don't. It's fine," she interrupted him before turning back to Rita, "And when it comes to setting you free, I am not going to do that yet. Who knows? You might rejoin the Ministry and make things even more awful than they already are."
Rita didn't like this piece of news one bit.
"Be grateful that I can't move because of your magic," she spat at Hermione, "Or else you would have been really sorry, you terrible girl!"
"Thank you for the compliment," Hermione said without batting an eyelash, "So, Harry, is it okay?"
"Yeah, seems fine to me," he replied, looking over the parchment, "Seems convincing even."
"Great!" she grinned, "Luna, will you be able to give this to your dad?"
"Oh yes, I most certainly will," the other young witch stated, again giving Hermione an unsettling smile. "Dad will be absolutely delighted to have a complete piece from Harry Potter."
"Um...thanks?" said Harry dubiously.
"Then I guess we're done here," Hermione declared, packing her book bag, "Thanks, Luna, for your help. And thanks, Rita. We couldn't have done it without you."
The thank-you took Rita by surprise, but she regained her stiff poise quickly.
"I don't need your thank yous," she growled, "I need my fee for this."
"Oh, you'll get it, don't worry," Hermione answered, completely unbothered. She knew Rita was trying to get on her nerves on purpose, to make her feel guilty about what she had done to her. And yes, a part of Hermione did feel very guilty, but Harry and his reputation mattered to her more than anything right now. Knowing Rita, she might start false rumors about him if Hermione set her free, and add more to Harry's turmoil.
Hence, she totally ignored Rita as she checked the pub to see if the coast was clear.
"Okay. Stay put," she told the older witch – then cast the Animagus Reversal Charm on her.
As she trapped the beetle so it couldn't escape, she heard clapping. Luna was joyful.
"What a beautiful display of magic!" she exclaimed, her chunky earrings dangling with each clap, "It's something."
"Definitely impressive." Harry nodded. "It looks complicated, and yet you do it in a flash."
"Oh, it's nothing," Hermione said, smiling bigger than she meant to, "I had to learn it for Rita or she would have caused trouble for me."
Amidst this conversation, the three exited the pub and entered the snowy street. With the interview clutched tightly against her chest, Luna departed from them here, claiming she had to study something called 'Wrackspurts' before she could mail the report to her father.
So, Harry and Hermione set off for the lively Hogsmeade streets in each other's company. Although Harry was all smiles, Hermione could sense that he was disturbed about something. Was it the date? After all, he looked perturbed when he came to the pub...
"So, how was the date?" she asked him as they navigated among the crowds of people.
"Horrible."
"Oh..." she didn't know whether to smile or frown. "How come?"
He sighed, tousling his hair absentmindedly. "Well, we got in an argument, and she left crying."
Then, he proceeded to tell her what had happened. With Hermione, no matter how atrocious an event might be, words just flowed from Harry like water. Maybe it was something about her being a great listener, plus knowing the fact that he could trust her completely. Whatever it was, it felt nice.
"And when I told her I had to meet you, she exploded," he said, "She was literally screaming bloody murder in the middle of a busy pub!"
"She should have been a bit more considerate," Hermione tsk-tsked.
"Tell me about it..."
"So I'll presume that she's not doing anything for your mind? Like Dumbledore said she should?"
"Definitely not. In fact, she's making my mind even more vulnerable." Harry shook his head. "She and her bloody wishes to hear about Cedric's last moments. If she couldn't move on, why did she decide to go out with me?"
"Honestly? No idea," Hermione sighed, "But you have to give her a break."
"Yeah. I'll apologize to her later."
"No. I mean you need to understand that she's a very emotional person, especially since she has lost someone very special to her. She may seem annoying, but you sometimes have to be considerate towards her feelings, you know?"
Harry didn't reply right away and instead observed her with an amused look. His stare caused Hermione to drop her eyes on the ground, her shyness overcoming her. Why was he looking at her like that?
After a moment, he spoke up, "You really are one of a kind, Hermione."
She was baffled. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, just look at yourself, giving me advice that I should treat Cho properly." He sighed, shaking his head. "And Cho? She was almost insulting you, all because she couldn't stand me leaving the date because I had to meet you."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, goodness. Did you tell her it was urgent?"
"Loud and clear."
She smiled a little, playing with him. "Well, then you should have told her how unattractive you find me."
Harry laughed. "You know I will never do that."
"Oh, really?" Hermione smirked.
"Definitely," he smirked back. "I'll never insult you just because I need to satisfy Cho."
She laughed. "You're so sweet."
"I am." He smiled, then added, "Come to think of it, we are always talking about my love life. What about yours?"
Hermione laughed again, but this time in a hollow way. "I don't have a love life."
"You can't fool me," Harry grinned, raising his eyebrow, "What about you and Krum?"
"There was nothing between us," she said, avoiding his eyes. He really had to bring up this topic at such a bad time. "I mean, we were close, but we were not that serious."
"Figures," he said, "You two were an odd pairing. At the Quidditch world cup, you said you didn't like him, remember?"
"Yes." She sighed. "But he is a really nice person, very lonely and sweet under all that manliness and fame. We just couldn't click." She smiled a little, remembering the time. "He said we should communicate through letters once he's gone from here, but that too faded away."
"So, you still miss him?"
"Not much." She looked up to meet his brilliant eyes, her own delivering a message to him. "Sometimes, yes. But I've decided that it was just a one-time thing. Nothing serious, like I've said."
"I see..." he nodded slowly, failing to read her message. Hermione could instantly see it and was relieved – but also a bit sad. One part of her really wanted to tell Harry how much she liked him. The affection she once had for Krum was nothing compared to the affection she had for him.
But Harry was completely oblivious to her conflicting feelings as he asked her, "Now with Krum gone, do you like someone?"
Hermione's heart hitched up. For some reason, she smiled bashfully as she answered him, "Why do you want to know?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders, smiling back. "I don't know. Maybe I can set you up with him."
Hermione wanted to burst into laughter. How could he set her up with himself?
"You? And setting me up?"
"Well, I can try!" He cocked his head to observe her playfully. "So, tell me. What's your type?"
Oh, I don't know. Green eyes, black hair. Looks exactly like you? Hermione thought, smiling secretively. Out loud, she said, "I don't have one."
"Don't lie, Hermione. It won't work on me."
She could feel her heart rate increasing. Suddenly, she didn't want him to find out – about anything at all. But judging by the way he was asking such questions, she was afraid she would expose herself to him, leading him to know that he was the one she admired.
But she didn't want that to happen.
Without knowing what she was doing, Hermione increased her speed and walked a pace ahead of Harry. She didn't know where she was heading, but she did know that she couldn't look at him directly as he asked her such dangerous questions.
"So, what should he be?" he said smiling, not thinking much about her increased pace, "A Quidditch player? An excellent student? Someone who can handle your emotions?"
Oh, Harry...you're all three of them, Hermione thought again. But she said, "I told you. I am not interested in getting into a relationship right now, especially since our OWLs are nearly here."
"So, that's it then? Your studies are more important?" He paused and added with confusion, "Do you need something from there?"
At his question, Hermione looked up – to find out she was standing at a store, her hand poised on its doorknob. Oops...
She quickly read the name – Lady Brickhill's Supplies and Potions – and came up with an excuse.
"Oh, yes! I am running a little low on potion supplies," she told him, going into the shop, "You know, the ones that cannot be found in the students' cupboard, and Lavender said this was the best shop for them."
"Ah, that's nice," said Harry, following her inside, "I may find something useful here, too."
The store was huge, which was surprising as it looked quite small from the outside. A variety of things were put on display on the insurmountable number of shelves in the long room. A modest number of customers were present there, and a tall witch – surely Lady Brickhill herself – was assisting them. She came rushing to Hermione and Harry as soon as they entered.
"What would you like, my dear?" she smiled, her lip-sticked mouth contrasting with her bleached skin.
In her hesitation, Hermione replied, "Oh, nothing. We're just looking."
The lady's smile grew strained, but she replied cheerfully nonetheless. "Okay. Enjoy your visit."
"Why didn't you tell her about your supplies?" Harry asked once she left, "She would have brought them to you."
Hermione sighed. Harry had put her in such a state that she was easily acting with the stupidest moves. Of course! Why didn't she tell her?
"Um, I thought I should browse these shelves first," she said, her jittery body walking – almost running – away from him as she happened upon a shelf, "Like this one, for example. Aren't they beautiful?"
They really were. The contents on this shelf were potions encased in round bottles. Their attractive quality was their colours – neon and very bright, in hues of pink, green, blue, and more.
Hermione wasn't sure what they were used for, but she picked up a purple one. "Look at this. It's so pretty!"
"Er, yeah..." said Harry uncertainly, "We were talking about something."
Hermione sighed. She was getting tired of this.
"Please drop the subject."
"Not until you answer me properly," he countered.
Truth be told, Harry did find this thing of his very strange. This persistence and desire to know who Hermione liked. He could observe her body language and could thus deduce that she did like someone. She was just trying to hide it. And this fact had caused something inside him to wake up. He realized he really wanted to know who she liked. He didn't know why, but it could be because Hermione seemed like the last person to get a crush on someone. But at the end of the day, she was a girl, so she would develop feelings for someone, and Harry was inclined to find out who it was.
Maybe she was embarrassed about it? He thought about the boys she knew, apart from himself and Ron because they were her best friends. Neville? Dean? Seamus? And for one horrid moment – Malfoy?
Hermione, on the other hand, was growing more and more tensed and infuriated by the minute. Since when was Harry this interested in her love life?
"I don't even know why you're asking," she now said, pretending to observe the purple potion as her senses focused on him, "You were never interested."
"But why don't you want to tell?" he argued, "We trust each other, right?"
"Of course! It's not that..." she shook her head. Suddenly, she smiled and turned to face him. "It's just...I don't want relationship advice from you."
Harry looked at her, puzzled. His expression was so comical that Hermione started laughing. Her laughter caused him to grin.
"Go ahead, make fun of me."
"Oh, I am not making fun of you!" she said, still laughing, "I am just saying that I don't want relationship advice from a person who only falls for beautiful girls."
"But I didn't fall for you."
The moment these words left him, the effect they caused was magical. Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at him, speechless. Her reaction made Harry think he had said something wrong.
"I meant that I don't fall for beautiful girls only!" he hurried to correct himself, "My point was that –"
But Hermione blocked his words out as she asked him, completely wonderstruck. "You...you think I'm beautiful?"
Something in Harry faltered as she asked this question. "Yes, of course," he said, stuttering a little bit, "Of course I think you're beautiful. But this isn't what I meant, Hermione. I –"
CRASH! The purple potion dropped from her hands and splattered on the ground, creating a mess on it. Hermione was so stunned by Harry's response that she had absentmindedly lost hold of the potion.
Now, she was distressed.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she said to Lady Brickhill, for she had come to them to see what had happened. "I'll clean it up, no worries."
She pointed her wand at the mess and muttered, "Spongify!"
Instead of disappearing, the utter mess gained a glossy appearance. It had changed its structure.
"I meant scrougify!" Hermione exclaimed, not believing herself, "I –"
"It's all right, young lady," said the store owner, pulling out her own wand, "No harm done. You should wash your hands as this solution gets concentrated if it's exposed to air for too long."
Hermione looked down at her hands. Sure enough, they were partially drenched in the purple liquid.
"The restroom's back there," the lady added, pointing out its direction.
"I'm coming," Hermione told Harry, then rushed to the restroom, her hands feeling heavy because of the liquid.
Amidst all the commotion, Harry had almost forgotten the reason it had occurred in the first place. But now, with Hermione gone and the peace restored, his mind made him recall why it had happened. He had called Hermione beautiful – but was he wrong, though? The way she had reacted made him question everything. Was he supposed to say that? Did she get offended? Harry certainly didn't want her to get upset just because he called her beautiful. Then again, he knew Hermione wasn't petty like Cho, not at all.
But on the other hand, even if he had phrased it incorrectly, Harry did think Hermione was pretty. How couldn't he? She might not know it herself, but she was attractive, and her personality increased her good looks even more, or so Harry thought.
Maybe she wasn't expecting me to talk about her like that, he thought, staring at the spot where the mess was made. But why can't I? It's not a big deal.
However, judging by Hermione's response, it was a big deal. He just couldn't understand why...
Meanwhile, Hermione stared at her pale reflection in the mirror. The empty restroom provided a great opportunity to mull over the things that had occurred.
Slowly, gradually, a smile started to appear on her face.
He thinks I'm beautiful, she thought, grinning at herself. Harry thinks I'm beautiful!
It wasn't a big deal; best friends complimented each other all the time, but Harry was special to her. She never thought he would call her beautiful. Him, out of all people, even if he did indicate that he did not, and would not, fall for her.
She remembered how hassled he had looked when he uttered that sentence, assuming he had said something wrong. Sometimes, his cute gestures of ignorance and misunderstanding made her love him even more.
She kept recalling the moment in her mind, causing her to gain a strange feeling – like something was tickling her heart. The tickle made her laugh and bury her face in her hands. For some strange reason, she wanted to jump with joy.
Maybe it had something to do with him.
When Hermione's face emerged out of her hands, she was horrified to see it rapidly gaining an intense blush. Her whole face had gone red. She couldn't go back to Harry looking like this!
She opened the tap and splashed some water on her face, hoping that it would return to normal. She leaned up and stared herself down.
Get a grip on yourself, Hermione, she thought to herself. No need to get worked up over a single compliment!
She couldn't believe how ridiculously she had acted today. It was all Harry's fault.
A sweet, heart-warming fault, but a fault indeed.
Shaking her head, she cast a drying spell on her face and hands before going outside to meet up with Harry.
Just when he was wondering when she would arrive, Harry saw Hermione appear amidst the shelves, smoothing her skirt and scarf, her long brown hair hiding her sweater from view. He didn't notice it before, but did her curls always shine like that?
It's probably the light, he thought as Hermione approached him.
"Sorry about that," she said, a bit flustered. She seemed...bashful. Or was it embarrassment? He couldn't tell. But somehow, he found this gesture – cute.
Something was really wrong with him.
"Well, I don't want anything from here now," she said, breaking into his thoughts, "I'll get my things later."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He nodded – then did something strange.
He offered his arm to her.
Hermione looked at it, then looked at him, confused.
Harry was feeling confused, too, but he said genially, "Shall we?"
For a second, her mind stopped working at his gesture. Her logical side couldn't understand his motive; he did the same thing to Cho, but she was his girlfriend. What was he doing?
But this kindled her emotional side. Her heart livened up and led her arm to loop through his without a moment's pause.
They left the store together with their arms linked. The rowdy crowd of students outside caused her other hand to grip his arm as well, thus securing her with him completely.
Amidst the warmth of their closeness that was countering the otherwise cold atmosphere, the two talked and laughed, everyone else fading out of their focus as they concentrated upon one another. Hermione thought about the way people would perceive them. From the way they were holding each other, people might think she was his new girlfriend. The alluring idea made her smile.
Harry was wandering the same thought. People might think they were dating – people including Cho, too.
And Harry? He didn't give a single damn...
