A/N: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and her associates. Please support the official release.
WARNING: There are some slight sexual or otherwise adult connotations and references present in this chapter. Nothing major, just thought I'd let you know.
Peeking her head around the corner, Hermione shot a quick look down the corridor, reassuring herself that Harry was still heading in the same direction as he had been for the past 5 minutes. Following him had proven to be significantly harder than expected, as he kept a brisk pace that was exhausting to match. But, judging by the route he had taken so far, Hermione had guessed his final destination to be the Library, so even if she managed to lose him now, she would still have a general idea of where to look.
Hermione had been watching him from the shadows all day, tailing him wherever he went like some sort of clichéd American spy. Her other forays into learning about his secret had so far turned up fruitless, thus why she had resorted to such an old-fashioned way of gaining information.
The original plan had been to search through his personal belongings in the boys' dorm, but that particular course of action had quickly been abandoned due to the door leading in to the boys' private area refusing to open up for someone of a different gender.
The second plan had been to steal some of his notes or schoolbooks whenever he wasn't looking to scan through for clues or hints, but that too had proven to be virtually impossible. Harry never left anything personal behind or out of sight long enough for someone to sneak in and take a look. He was awfully meticulous like that.
And so, with her plans ruined twice over, Hermione had ultimately resorted to stalking him through the corridors of Hogwarts, secretly hoping for him to go to some obscure location he would otherwise have no business being in. Not the most effective strategy, sure, but at this point, it was all she had.
Taking yet another breath to strengthen her resolve, she leaned over and popped her head out one last time, and saw…
Nobody. She saw nobody. The corridor was empty. Harry was gone.
Letting out a wail of frustration, she immediately rounded the corner and broke into a sprint down the hallway. How in Godric's name had he managed to disappear like that? He had been here mere seconds ago; there should be no physical way for him to just vanish like that in such a short amount of time.
As her mind raced to figure out how he had disappeared, Hermione forgot to pay attention to her surroundings, and thus failed to notice that one of the doors lining the side of the wall was indeed not actually fully closed. As she then sprinted past said door, a slender arm burst forth from the opening, grabbing her and causing a surprised scream to escape her lips as she was pulled into the dark, otherwise empty classroom.
"Mind telling me why you've been shadowing me all day?" a voice suddenly asked, one that she instantly recognized to be Harry's.
"Oh, for Godric's sake, Harry, you scared the life of out me!" she replied with a whine, trying to step backwards but finding herself incapable of doing so due to the arms he had placed around her waist.
"Well, that's not really my fault now, is it? If you had been paying a little more attention, you probably would have noticed the open door, and my trap, before you got close enough for me to grab you."
A small blush erupted across her cheeks as she listened to his reply. She had been awfully careless when she decided to rush down the corridor after him. The thought that he might have noticed her, and thus decided to lay a trap for her, had never even crossed her mind.
As the initial shock fizzled out, her attention switched from questioning to something else, namely just how close he currently was. His arms snaked around her back, his steady breathing tickling the skin on her neck, his intense green eyes locked onto hers. The otherwise pitch-black room only intensified this feeling of closeness, the darkness acting as a metaphorical and physical wall that blocked out everything else but them. And, as much as she hated to admit it, standing so close to him felt good, in some weird way she couldn't really explain.
Over the years, Hermione had never considered herself to be much of a girly character. Whilst other girls her age were usually fawning over guys and spreading gossip, she had dedicated herself entirely to her studies from a relatively young age, and thus "missed out" on a lot of the action that often accompanied school life. That involved everything that had to do with romance and boys.
This was not to say that she was completely green when it came to sexual experience, however. She had, as she suspected most girls and boys her age had, experimented with her body on multiple occasions, even going as far as masturbating to orgasm once, but had not made a habit of it. Being more academically inclined, she mostly chose to spend her time on research and study rather than sexual pleasure, and in so doing, had never even considered the possibility of doing anything vulgar with someone of the opposite gender. In addition, she had never really consider herself to be particularly attractive either, and had figured her chances to be rather slim when it came to attracting the attention of possible suitors.
Because of this, having never had a "crush" or boyfriend before, she was wholly unexperienced when it came to dealing with romantic matters, and as such, the simple act of Harry holding her so close triggered something deep inside of her, a desire she did not know she had.
Therefore, before her brain managed to register what was happening and promptly stop her, she acted out of pure instinct, standing up on her toes and planting a small kiss by the corner of his mouth. It was by no means romantic, as rushed and hastily done as it was, but it was definitely a kiss, and her first one at that.
Harry's body immediately froze up, his eyes opening wide as he stared at the now incredibly embarrassed young witch in front of him. He had always prided himself on his ability to predict most, if not every possible outcome of a situation, and had put a great amount of time and effort into practicing rational thought. Therefore, when Hermione decided to do something as unusual and wholly unexpected as kissing him, he was taken by complete surprise, and as a direct result of this, his ability to think rationally had been momentarily suspended.
"S… Sorry…" Hermione blurted out, hiding her now flushed face in her hands.
"Obliviate!"
Harry's casting of the spell happened with such speed and finesse that Hermione's brain had no chance of keeping up with him. One moment he was standing there with his arms wrapped around her back, the next he had taken a step away and was pointing his wand at her. With her pupils dilating and her consciousness rapidly dwindling, Hermione only had time to form a singular thought in her mind before the darkness took her:
Whaa…
Then her body went limp, falling into Harry's now outstretched arms.
Okay... that might've been a little extreme, he thought to himself as he clutched onto his now unconscious friend with surprising strength. Seeing as Harry's decision-making had always relied heavily on rationality, he wasn't exactly the best at dealing with unexpected or illogical events, and Hermione's behavior had elicited something of a knee-jerk reaction from him.
Now that the damage had been done, however, he had an entirely new problem to deal with.
Carrying her unmoving body across the classroom, he gently placed her down with her back against the wall, making sure she would not tip over and fall, before pulling out his wand again to take a better look at it. Unlike most of the students at Hogwarts, Harry already knew about the Trace charm placed on underage wizards' wands by the Ministry of Magic. It was, of course, placed there due to the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery that had been around since 1875, and allowed Ministry officials to track the use of underage wizards' magic and what spells they were using. One could compare it to the way the government in most Muggle countries spied on its citizens through hefty monitoring of their Internet searches and behavior.
Because of this, his usage of the spell would soon appear on his wand records, something which could spell disaster should the Ministry ever decide to check them.
Luckily enough for him, however, he already had a way of circumventing the Trace, but said solution only worked once, and was best reserved as a last resort. On top of this, Harry really didn't feel like breaking his wand on this particular day. This feeling came more from the fact that getting a new one would be a tremendous pain in the ass rather than any sort of affection he might have for the blasted thing, though.
As a somewhat related side note, the common notion that the wand chooses the wizard was actually complete and utter hogwash, a fictional lie that wandmakers liked to circulate in order to hide the true selection process that took place whenever a wizard first touched a new wand. Wands were objects, and as such, had no real sentience. They couldn't tell apart wizard from wizard, and certainly did not harbor any sort of feelings. What really happened when a wizard first picked up a wand was that the wand's magic resonated with the wizards' magic, and would produce varying results depending on how compatible the two were. Favorable results would be things like a whirlwind of power erupting around the wizard. Non-favorable results would be explosions, knocking over of objects or other examples of magic running rampant. That was all there was to it.
Back on the topic of avoiding the Trace, Harry had quickly surmised that breaking your wand would also break the charm placed upon it, thus making it impossible for the Ministry to trace said wand and locate it. They would still be able to see where the spell had originally been cast, but would have no way of tracing it back to him, seeing as a broken wand really was nothing more than two, completely ordinary sticks. And Harry somehow doubted that they would have enough common sense in them to do something as Muggle-like as searching for fingerprints.
This, of course, came at the cost of destroying your own magical instrument; something most wizards would never even dream of doing, but such sentimentality had little effect on him. To him, his wand was little more than a tool, and tools were made to be used and discarded.
Despite all of this, Harry still had no desire to revisit Diagon Alley any time soon, and as such decided not to break his wand, and rather relocate himself to a completely different part of the castle and pray to Merlin that the Ministry was too slow on the uptake to catch up with him. The only way they would know about his use of the Obliviate spell was if they manually checked his wand records, after all, something they usually only did during summer vacations.
Ravenclaw Tower
"Hrrggg…" Hermione groaned as her brain ever so slowly woke back to life. With her head throbbing, her mind immediately went into diagnostics-mode, and started running through the memories she had of the past couple of hours. She was quickly surprised to find what appeared to be a missing segment in the otherwise complete chain of events. Opening her eyes, she was yet again surprised at the sight in front of her.
"Wha…?" she muttered as she stared into the unusually calm, green eyes of her best friend.
"Yo," Harry responded, backing up to give her some personal space. Shooting a confused look around her, it took her foggy brain a few moments to realize where she was and what position she was in.
"Harry?!" she suddenly screamed and jumped up as she realized that she had been laying with her head in his lap.
"Yes, that is my name," he offered, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Why… why am I… how did I…"
"You fell unconscious during our talk, Hermione. I brought you back to the Ravenclaw Common Room, and laid you to rest in this couch. And, seeing as the side effects of the obliviation were about to pass, I decided to stay here with you."
"Ahh, okay… I guess that makes se… Wait a minute, obliviation?!"
She hadn't meant to shout out that last part, but it just sort of happened as her mind caught up with what he was saying.
"Yes, obliviation. You see, I might have... sort of... maybe ended up obliviating you earlier by mistake. Sorry 'bout that."
"You did WHAT?"
"I obliviated you."
A moment of silence passed before Hermione's arm suddenly shot out and connected with his stomach, delivering a devastating punch. The force of the blast caught Harry by complete surprise, causing him to double over and wheeze for air.
"You obliviated me?!"
"Yes…" he muttered back weakly, the lack of oxygen making it difficult to speak.
"Why in Godric's name would you do that?!"
"Because I, for the first time in a long while, genuinely panicked, and made a hasty decision."
Having recovered some of his breath, he was able to give a more coherent answer this time.
"You panicked…?" she asked, her facial expression switching to resemble that of a question mark.
"Yes, I panicked. I know, I'm not very proud of it either…" he continued, shaking his head in disbelief. "I mean, I'm supposed to be the rational one, right? I don't make mistakes like that."
"Well, I suppose it is only human to mess up sometimes… Actually, no, wait a minute! What reason could you possibly have had for obliviating me out of the blue like that?"
"Ehrm…" he started, his mind racing to come up with a suitable explanation. "It's… well… let's just say that something incredibly awkward and out-of-character happened, and the only way of surviving the fallout was to obliviate you."
"The... fallout…?" she muttered in response, desperately trying to remember something, anything from the past couple of hours.
"Yes, the fallout. Trust me; it really is for the best. I remember what happened, and I kinda want to obliviate myself because of it, to be honest."
A tense, electrifying silence followed his words, as Hermione considered whether or not to kill him. The thought must be awfully tempting; he had just violated her innermost sanctum, after all, by messing with her memories. He squirmed underneath the weight of that transgression. If only he could take it back... undo the damage, and react differently.
At last, Hermione made her move. She let out a frustrated sigh, and pushed herself up from the couch.
"... Okay, you know what? Just this once... I'm willing to let it go. If it truly was that bad that you felt the need to obliviate me, then I suppose I would rather not remember it at all. But, know this... if you ever decide to pull something like that again…"
The ice in her voice made it painstakingly clear to Harry what would happen then, and he could do nothing but nod as she walked away, inwardly letting out a belated breath at his own luck.
Godric, I really dodged a bullet there, didn't I?
"Ahem…"
The firm voice cut through the now stagnant silence like a warm knife. Standing just a couple of meters away was Professor McGonagall, regarding him with a calculating look.
"Oh, Professor... I didn't see you there," Harry said, standing up and walking over to her.
"Mr. Potter, the Headmaster has requested your presence for a meeting in his office. If you would please be so kind as to follow me…"
Not even bothering to wait for his reply, the old witch spun around on her heels and headed for the door, gesturing for him to follow.
Ahh, fucking sublime... Just what in the world could the old meddler possibly want now?
Headmaster's Office
"Harry! Just the man I wanted to see!" Dumbledore smiled, the ever-present twinkle in his eye glinting at Harry as he walked through the large wooden door leading in to the office.
"Headmaster," Harry replied as he came to a halt in front of his desk, his face an expressionless mask. Dumbledore never called for him unless it was to reveal yet another piece of earth-shattering information that he probably should've known about ages ago, and so Harry sort of knew what to expect at this point.
Unfazed by the obvious lukewarm response, Albus gestured for him to take a seat, before proceeding to pull out what appeared to be the day's issue of The Daily Prophet.
"Harry, we've known each other for a long time now, and during all that time, I believe we have developed a rather good relationship," he started, flipping over the pages as he talked. "And I hope you know that I have come to care a great deal about you."
Yeah, right.
"Of course, Professor," Harry replied, his voice perfectly even, betraying none of his true emotions.
"Therefore, I want you to take what I am about to tell you very seriously, as it poses a very real threat to both you and your friend," the Headmaster continued, lifting his head from the newspaper to look at him.
Harry's eyed narrowed ever so slightly at that. Something threatening him was one thing; he was the Boy-Who-Lived after all, there was probably no shortage of people out to get him. But something threatening Hermione?
"And what would this threat be?" he probed, being careful not to let anything slip through his calm façade.
"Have you been paying any attention to the news lately, Harry?" Dumbledore suddenly asked, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere.
"Uhm… No? Well, I do make it a point to stay at least somewhat up to date on what happens in the world, but I don't believe I've checked up on things outside of Hogwarts in quite a while," he responded, looking at the Headmaster in confusion.
"Well, then I assume that you haven't heard about the break-out from Azkaban yet, have you?"
… Someone broke out of Azkaban? I thought that was supposed to be impossible…
"No, I can't say I have. What break-out?"
Directing his gaze down at the now open newspaper in front of him, Dumbledore gently shoved it across the desk towards Harry, gesturing for him to take a look. Leaning over, he immediately noticed the title written in big, bold letters:
ESCAPE FROM AZKABAN
Yesterday, at around 9 am, personnel working at Azkaban reported to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that a break-out from Solitary Confinement had occurred. The escapee is apparently none other than Sirius Black himself – a devout follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
The madman, sentenced to life in prison due to mass murder with the Blasting Curse, is now at large, and has so far managed to elude capture. Anyone with information about the man's current whereabouts are required to contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement immediately. Any attempt at aiding or hiding the fugitive will be seen as a criminal offence in the eyes of the law, with the offender risking 5 years in prison or more due to obstruction of justice.
"Huh…" Harry breathed after finishing the article. "That's… certainly interesting. But I fail to see just how this affects me, Headmaster?"
Dumbledore stared at him for what felt like ages, before finally letting out a small sigh and answering his question:
"Sirius Black is your Godfather, Harry."
"…"
There was a long moment of silence between them then, with Harry's brain going into overdrive at the thought of what this particular piece of information meant.
"Sirius Black… the wanted mass murderer… is my Godfather?" he asked, still keeping his face neutral despite the enormous struggle currently raging on inside his head.
"Yes, Harry. Sirius Black is your Godfather," the Headmaster nodded solemnly, using one hand to gently stroke his beard. "And he is also the reason why Voldemort managed to find you that night so many years ago."
This time, Harry didn't quite manage to keep his emotions in check.
"He's… he's WHAT?"
"You see, after your parents went into hiding, they decided to have the location of their home permanently hidden from sight through the use of a Fidelius Charm…" Dumbledore started, only to be interrupted by Harry shortly into his explanation.
"Sirius was the Secret Keeper, wasn't he?"
"…"
"Well? Tell me. He was the Secret Keeper, right? And he betrayed them to Voldemort? It's only logical," Harry droned, trying his best to keep his emotions under control. He couldn't let the old man see that he was flustered. Albus Dumbledore was a very powerful man, and you didn't get to be powerful unless you knew how to control the people around you. The fact that Harry was upset right now, and thus vulnerable, was something that could easily be used against him.
"Yes, Harry. He informed Voldemort of your parents location, allowing the Dark Lord to find their home in Godric's Hollow and kill them both. He would have killed you too, if not for the incredible love and sacrifice of your mother," the old man continued, his eyes carefully gauging Harry's reaction as he talked. The boy was good, he would have to admit that much. Most other students would have fallen for his grandfatherly act a long time ago and immediately opened up to him, but Harry was different. He was… cold. Cynical. Calculating.
"Sirius's betrayal surprised all of us greatly. He and James had been friends ever since their first day here at Hogwarts. They were always together, pulling pranks and getting up to mischief. None of us expected him to eventually turn against his best friend like he did." The sorrow and grief in Dumbledore's voice was so heartfelt, so pure, that it almost sounded genuine. Almost.
"So Sirius betrayed my father just like that? Despite their friendship and history together?" Harry asked, a hint of confusion entering his voice. "That doesn't seem very… logical."
"Yes, as I said, it took us all by surprise. We never would have expected the young man to give up his best friend so easily. I imagine that, faced with certain death in the form of Lord Voldemort, his resolve weakened, and he decided to use your parents as a bargaining chip in order to keep his life."
Returning to silence, Harry absentmindedly stared at the wooden desk in front of him. He had never known or even met Sirius Black personally, but from the way the Headmaster described him, he didn't sound like much of a bad guy, and certainly not the type to rat out his best friend just because the odds were stacked against him.
"Why did the Department of Magical Law Enforcement arrest Sirius, again? In the article, it said that he committed mass murder through use of the Blasting Curse. Why would he do such a thing right after betraying my parents? Wouldn't that just draw more attention to him? He could've easily gotten away with just telling Lord Voldemort about my parents location. Very few would have managed to track that down back to him, after all."
"Ahh, yes, I forgot to mention that. Right after betraying your parents, Sirius decided to chase down another member of your parents' friend group, Peter Pettigrew, in order to take his life. After a long battle, he finally succeeded in doing so by casting the Blasting Curse in the middle of a busy street, killing Pettigrew and 12 other innocent bystanders in the process. The DMLE arrested him shortly afterwards, and he was sent to Azkaban to serve a life sentence there."
Another moment of silence came and went, before Harry yet again opened his mouth to speak.
"My parents were killed on Halloween, the 31st of October 1981, right Headmaster?"
Not really seeing where Harry was going with this, Dumbledore simply nodded and fixed him with a questioning look.
"And on which day did the DMLE arrest Sirius again? On November the 1st?"
Another nod.
"And he was sent to Azkaban on the 2nd?"
"Yes."
"Hmm…"
The boy went silent again, obviously stuck in deep thought. Taking a moment to consider the implications of the information the boy had just asked for, Albus finally began to see what it was Harry was getting at.
Putting on a dissatisfied frown, he shook his head.
"Whilst those dates are true, you shouldn't think too far down those roads, Harry. There is no way Sirius Black is innocent. I personally participated in the investigations, and can with absolute certainty say that he is guilty of the crimes committed. There is no other way to explain how James and Lily Potter died, and how Peter Pettigrew went missing. They even found a piece of poor Peter's body in the aftermath of the explosion! A finger that had been blown off by the Blasting Charm, if memory serves me well."
His attempts at persuasion, however, was met with nothing but silence from the boy. He appeared to be completely disregarding anything Dumbledore had to say at this point, as lost in thought and speculation as he was.
"Harry, my boy, please tell me you will leave this matter alone? It could be very dangerous for you to involve yourself with this any further. Sirius is still out there, after all, and Godric knows he might be coming for you next," Albus continued, switching back to his "disappointed grandfather" voice. "Promise me you will stay out of this."
Finally, the young boy looked up at him again, but his eyes were even more cold and chilling than usual this time.
"Of course, Headmaster. I promise I'll stay out of trouble," he answered, his voice perfectly monotone.
"Then that is all I will ask of you. You may return to your room now. Good day, Harry, and may you sleep well."
"You too, Headmaster," he replied as he gracefully got up from his seat and started moving towards the door. A cough from behind made him stop and turn around again.
"Yes?"
"Do watch out for young Miss Granger though, Harry. It truly would be terrible if something were to happen to her."
Did... Did that old bastard just threaten me?
"I will, Headmaster. She is my friend, after all."
Turning around for the last time, he left the office and started heading back towards the Tower, thoughts of his Godfather occupying his mind. Something wasn't right here, and Harry was going to get to the bottom of it. He just had to figure something out first.
DADA Class
"Settle down, settle down!" their teacher, Remus Lupin, shouted out into the chaotic classroom, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "For Godric's sake, you people are almost as bad as I was at your age! Settle down now!"
The chaos continued for a little while longer, before Harry's fellow classmates finally returned to their seats, and directed their attention towards the now satisfied DADA teacher. A wave of silence flooded the room, the lack of sound nearly as deafening as the racket had been. After a long pause, Remus finally nodded, and opened his mouth to speak.
"As most of you are probably aware, it is Halloween today, and as such, today's class will be a little… special…" He let the sentence trail off for a bit of dramatic flair, before turning around to face the cupboard that had been meticulously placed in the middle of the room. "This cupboard here houses one of the nastiest little buggers out there, known as a Boggart."
A couple of stifled gasps came from the classroom, no doubt belonging to students who knew about the creature from before.
"Yes, yes, you are right to be surprised. A Boggart is classified as an amortal, shape-shifting non-being that takes on the form of the viewer's worst fear. Because of this shape-shifting, nobody really knows what a Boggart looks like in its original form."
Remus took the overwhelming silence that filled the room as a sign to continue.
"The Boggart sitting within the darkness of this cupboard has yet to assume a form, as he does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. But when I let him out, he will immediately become what each of us fears the most."
This time, a lone hand raised itself from amongst the stunned students, catching Remus's attention.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Sorry Professor, I just have a question; is it possible to trick a Boggart by pretending to fear something that you don't?"
"Ahh, an excellent question. No, Miss Granger, to my knowledge, that is not possible. You see, the Boggart carries the ability to directly read your true fears and shift to resemble it accordingly. Attempting to trick it will not have any effect."
Nodding, she brought her hand back down and put on a speculative look, staring at the cupboard with newfound interest.
"Now, that is not to say that there are no ways of defending oneself from the Boggart's attacks. There exists a simple spell called Riddikulus that forces the creature to assume a form humorous to the caster, thereby counteracting the Boggart's ability to terrorize. Casting of this spell, however, requires the caster to first acknowledge that which they fear the most, and then visualize it into something funny. Due to the initial horror of facing one's deepest fears, this can be a lot more challenging than it sounds."
This time, there were no questions, as everyone was busy imagining what their worst fears would look like in a humorous form. With the grin on his face widening, Remus searched through his students for someone suitable enough to be used as a test subject.
"Mr. Weasley, if you would please stand up and approach the cupboard."
The ginger-haired boy visibly recoiled at the mention of his name, his eyes darting across the classroom in nervous jitters, but he stood up nonetheless. Watching him approach the cupboard, Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the boy, seeing him walk with shaky legs and fear coloring his every feature.
"Calm down, Mr. Weasley. The Boggart aims to scare its victim, not maim or injure. I can assure you, you are perfectly safe regardless of which form the creature takes."
Nodding ever so slightly at that, Ron visibly strengthened his resolve and lifted his wand, taking a moment to concentrate before signaling to the Professor that he was ready.
As soon as the door swung open, a loud swooshing sound filled the classroom, before a tense silence once more settled in its wake. A couple of seconds went by, before a massive, jet-black Acromantula suddenly climbed out of the darkness of the cupboard. Everyone immediately shifted their attention towards the horrible creature. Even Harry had trouble remaining calm as he stared at the monstrosity in front of him, the small part of his brain that retained the ability of rational thought recalling that Acromantulas were a species of giant spiders native to the rainforests of Southeast Asia, particularly Borneo, where they inhabited dense jungles. This specific one appeared to be even bigger than most, though, as it regarded its new surroundings with eight eyes, and hissed out warnings.
Ron, as perhaps expected, had frozen still in horror, his eyes wide open and filled with fear.
"Now is not the time to freeze, Mr. Weasley! Act now, before you lose your resolve and falter! Cast the Riddikulus spell!"
The voice of the Professor broke through the silence and brought the students back to their senses. And before the Acromantula even had a chance to react, the young Weasley had lifted his wand with surprising speed, and shouted out the incantation in a panicked voice.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the enormous critter found itself with roller skates attached to all of its feet. With its point of balance drastically shifted, the spider could do nothing but screech as it fell to the floor in a pathetic heap. The classroom quickly broke out into laughter as everyone watched the amusing spectacle unfold in front of them.
"Magnificent! Great performance, Mr. Weasley! Now, who wants to go next?" Remus laughed as he turned to his students yet again.
With the laughter ebbing out, everyone started lining up in front of the cupboard, most nervous but eager to face their deepest fears.
"You ready for this?" Harry whispered to Hermione as they got up from their seats to join the rapidly growing line.
"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess," she replied, shaking her head in exasperation. She really wasn't looking forward to this.
Some time passed, with each student getting to test their mettle against their inner darkness. There turned out to be a lot of rational fears amongst the crowd, with things like big bugs, Dark Lords and disappointed parents being the most common ones. At last, it was Hermione's turn to face the Boggart.
"Don't worry, you've got this," Harry reassured her, putting on a comforting smile as he patted her shoulder in a show of support.
"Yeah, yeah… I know."
Slowly approaching the cupboard, she took one last deep breath to calm her nerves, before raising her wand and nodding to the Professor.
As usual, the swooshing sound reappeared as soon as Remus opened the door, but the Boggart quickly managed to read Hermione's worst fear and transition into the correct form. A collective gasp went up from the students as they saw what the creature had transformed into.
Laying on the ground in front of the cupboard were two bloody corpses, beaten and malformed beyond recognition, save for the occasional tuft of brown hair. Their limbs had been twisted around and their skulls caved in, the result of what could only have been an incredibly brutal death. It was a gruesome sight, enough to disturb even the Professor, as Harry absentmindedly noticed him taking a shocked step backwards, genuine fear and disgust flashing across his face.
The Professor wasn't Harry's main focus at the moment though. His eyes were firmly locked on Hermione, watching as the young witch fell to her knees in front of the brutalized corpses of what he vaguely recognized to be her parents.
"N… N… No…" his friend muttered, a hint of desperation creeping in amongst the hollowness of her voice. "Dad…? Mom…?"
Throughout his three years at Hogwarts, Harry had seen his fair share of sadness and suffering. Having grown accustomed to it at a very young age, there wasn't a whole lot that could really affect him or make him feel anything anymore. But seeing his best friend slumped down in front of the cold, lifeless corpses of her own parents broke something inside of him. It awoke a feeling that he hadn't felt in a very long time. Genuine compassion.
Suddenly, a powerful wave of hatred and rage washed over him, blotting out all trace of rational thought. How dared the Boggart do such a thing to his friend? To make her feel suffering like this?
His eyes flickering a deep shade of emerald, Harry immediately drew his wand and shouted out the required incantation, channeling all of his rage and frustration into the spell. The effects were instant, deadly and satisfying. The Boggart seemed to fold in on itself as the magical orb of energy hit it, letting out a scream of agony before disappearing completely, leaving behind nothing but a spec of dust in its place.
With the illusion of her dead parents gone, Hermione resorted to simply staring at the spot where they had been, a watery sheen forming in her eyes. Before long, she had tears streaking down her face, hitting the ground beneath her with soft thuds.
After the wave of anger dissipated, Harry wasted no time in rushing to his friends' side, enveloping her in a powerful hug. Normally, doing such a thing would've been completely out-of-character for him, but right now, he could not have cared less. What mattered now was being there for his friend.
Shooting the Professor a predatory look, he snarled and shouted out in an angry voice; "Why didn't you stop it?!"
"I… I…" Remus stuttered back, staring at the couple with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.
"You saw her reaction! The way she broke down! She was defenseless against that thing! Why didn't you help her?"
"I'm sorry, I… I panicked, and…"
"Not good enough, Professor. It is your job to protect your students, and you failed to do that today. I won't forget this."
"Harry, please…"
But Harry had already diverted his attention back to Hermione, completely ignoring the Professor's pleas for forgiveness. He was irrelevant at this point. What Harry had to do now was help his friend.
"Hermione…" he whispered in her ear, tightening the hug and using one hand to swipe a stray lock of hair out of her face. "We're leaving."
"H… Harry…?" she replied, her voice weak and raspy. "Where… did my parents go…?"
"They weren't real, Hermione. What you saw wasn't real. You have to listen to me now, okay? Can you do that? I need you to stand up and walk to the door. Otherwise, I'm going to have to carry you."
"You… You need to take her to Madam Pomfrey!" Ron suddenly piped up, a scared look plastered on his face.
"No, I don't. Just... shut up and let me handle this, okay?"
"Harry… Where are my parents?"
"I told you Hermione, they weren't real. Your parents are safe at home, don't worry about them. Come here now."
Having decided it would be simpler to just carry her back to the dormitory, Harry slowly got up on his feet and took a firm grip behind Hermione's back and under her legs, lifting her up into his arms, as one would with a child. Making no effort to resist him, Hermione responded by pushing her face into his robes and letting out a small sob.
"I take it class is dismissed?" Harry said, his eyes hard and uncaring as he turned to face the Professor again.
"Y… Yes… Class is dismissed…"
Nodding, Harry swung on his heels and headed out of the classroom, a sobbing Hermione cradled in his arms.
Ravenclaw Tower
Opening the door to the girls' dorm, Harry was relieved to find the room dark and empty, with no other girls present. Even someone as romantically disenfranchised as he could understand that sneaking in here with Hermione in his arms like this might've looked rather suspicious to those who did not know what had happened.
Striding over to her bed, he gently placed her down and let out an internal sigh of satisfaction as his arms were freed of the strain. Carrying Hermione had been a hell of a lot tougher than it looked, and he inwardly decided that he would start exercising regularly from this point on to build up some proper muscle. It wouldn't do to be so weak and out of shape when Voldemort came gunning for him, after all.
"Harry…?" his friend suddenly muttered, making him lean down so he could hear her better.
"Yes?"
"Thank you… for that. I feel a lot better now."
"No problem, Hermione. You scared me there for a second, you know. I thought you'd properly lost your mind."
Despite her condition, she managed to force out a small chuckle and bump him playfully in the shoulder.
"Lose my mind? Like I would ever do something like that. I need my brain to study and read books, after all."
"Oh yes, Godric forbid something coming in the way of you and reading."
They both shared a laugh at that, before the silence returned and consumed them yet again. Harry wasn't usually one to complain about lack of conversation, as he found small talk to be incredibly tedious and boring, but this time, he couldn't help but miss it as he gradually started feeling more and more uncomfortable. He had gotten Hermione safely to her room, but... now what? Was he supposed to just leave her here alone?
"Harry, I… I was wondering if…"
"Yes?"
Despite the darkness, he could already see the hints of a blush spreading across Hermione's cheeks before she opened her mouth to finish her question.
"I was wondering if you'd… stay a while… with me…"
She let the sentence trail off as her eyes drifted towards the ground, obviously too embarrassed to look directly at him. Even Harry himself couldn't help but blush as the implications of her words reached his mind.
"Stay… to comfort you, right?" he asked, offering her a metaphorical lifeline to save her from further embarrassment.
"Yes, yes! Of course! To comfort me!"
"Yeah, I mean… sure. I can do that."
Settling down on the bed next to her, he laid still for a couple of seconds, before awkwardly placing an arm around her neck and pulling her into a soft hug. Despite his highly rational mind, Harry still didn't have a lot of experience with women, and as such, felt incredibly awkward doing something like this. But he understood that it meant a lot to Hermione, and he couldn't exactly say that the prospect of cuddling with a girl had no appeal to it.
And so they stayed like that for a while, with Hermione resting her head comfortably against his chest, feeling his breath ruffle her hair every few seconds. She knew they technically had more classes to attend and places to be, and didn't actually have time to be lounging about like this, but for once in her life, she really couldn't bring herself to care. Because in that moment, despite the awkwardness, despite her confused feelings, Hermione felt closer to her friend than ever before.
And even Harry, who normally paid no attention to such things, gradually starting thinking that maybe the idea of being friends with Hermione Granger wasn't so bad after all.
A/N: I ended up focusing quite a lot on Harry and Hermione's relationship in this chapter, more so than I originally intended. This story is usually told from the perspective of multiple characters after all, something which I'll return to doing in the next chapter. I just felt it was important to at least have a little bit of character development in here.
The thing with Hermione kissing Harry was more of an "act of impulse" rather than anything done out of genuine love, by the way, in case you didn't catch that. I do think it is quite obvious that she has feelings for him at this point, but I'm not trying to rush anything here, seeing as I want to maintain a believable timeline and sense of progression.
It also took me quite a bit longer than I expected to get this chapter out, as I had to rewrite the DADA class section multiple times until I felt satisfied enough with it to justify publishing it. I'm still not 100 percent happy with how it turned out, but you'll have to tell me in the reviews how you feel about it. I did like the ending though, so that's at least something.
As always, thanks for all of your amazing support, (we reached over 100 followers in 3 chapters, that's pretty sick) and I will see you guys in the next chapter.
-Twisted