"Weasley!" Severus snapped. "I thought I told you to go get help!"
Weasley's eyes bulged as he backed away, waving his grime covered hands in front of him. "It's not my fault! Lockhart-"
Severus turned his attention to his colleague, looking rather punch drunk holding a broken broomstick, wavering back and forth in the dim light.
"Never mind," he spat. "I don't want to know."
He recited more spells from memory to no avail. The damn things wouldn't move. The mechanical snakes held fast to the wall, mocking him. Severus wasn't sure how long he stood in the entry way trying to the damn thing open. He didn't want to admit it, but he was starting to run out of spells. He was close to summoning a universal solvent, but he wondered if the damn snakes were enchanted against it as well.
Snakes... "Weasley," he said. "How did Potter open the initial opening?"
"Erm," the boy hesitated. "He told it to open in Paseltongue, sir."
Of course! He grabbed the boy by the shoulders, who in return stared at him, blue eyes wide in terror, he mouth twisted as if he didn't know what to expect. "Did you hear what it sounded like, Weasley? Do you remember?" He asked, shaking the boy. "Please, tell me!"
"Erm," he gulped. "Let me try and remember!"
He released the boy, ashamed. Grabbing the boy and shouting at him wasn't going to help him remember. He stared at the door and searched his own mind for anything. He did not like that his presence was proving to be useless. He was failing her, again. He stared at the door as if he could will it to open when Weasley began making strange hissing noises in an attempt to imitate Parseltongue.
The door remained shut.
He tapped his chin pensively as he thought about other ways to go about entering the room. He'd by now exhausted every magical solution at his disposal and he knew he hadn't the physical strength to prise it open.
Weasley stepped closer to the door with a sense of purpose and in a determined voice repeated the hissing noises with a slight variation. To Severus's surprise the snake mouths opened, unclasping from the wall with a whirring of clockwork. One by one the snakes retracted in a writhing motion into the opposite wall the round door sprung open toward them.
"I can't believe that worked," Weasley gasped.
"That was-" Severus started when a scarlet and orange bird waddled through the opening. "Fawkes?"
The phoenix looked up at Severus with his beady black eyes before tilting his head and blinking.
How did you even- his thoughts were interrupted when three more left the room.
Relief washed over him. Hermione was fine! Maybe not fine, but alive and not gravely inured. She stood between Potter and the Weasley girl, her hair matted and stained with dried blood, and her left arm hanging limply at her side, leaning on Potter who was absolutely drenched in much fresher blood, clutching the sword of Gryffindor (he suddenly understood why Fawkes was there). Hermione stared at the Weasley girl, who looked uneasy, rubbing her shoulders and refusing to look anyone in the eye, but she was unharmed.
"Hermione!" he cupped her face in his hands and examined her. "Are you hurt? Stupid question, of course you are," he produced a sling and gingerly secured her limp arm within it.
Once he knew her head and arm were okay, he pulled her into a tight hug. His daughter standing in his arms, alive with only treatable injuries, was perhaps the single greatest feeling of relief he'd ever felt. Hermione was okay, nothing else mattered.
"I'm never letting you out of my sight again!" he clutched her tightly to him and repeatedly kissed the top of her head.
"Dad," Hermione choked. "You're suffocating me!"
"Oh," he said in an equally small voice, loosening his grip. "Sorry."
"I'm fine," she gasped with a weak smile after a moment, returning the hug with her one good arm before kissing his cheek.
A sniff came from the other end of the corridor and both father and daughter were reminded that they weren't alone.
Severus regained his composure and rose from the ground to see the Weasley siblings pausing their own reunion staring at Lockhart, who clung to a struggling Potter's shoulders, beaming at the two pairs.
"Isn't this beautiful?" he asked.
"Geroffme!" Potter hissed.
The Weasley boy stifled a snigger with his hand while the girl smiled weakly. Hermione rolled her eyes and clapped her good hand to her forehead.
"Let the boy go," Severus groaned pinching the bridge of his nose.
Lockhart released Potter and Hermione narrowed her eyes at the man.
"What happened to him?"she asked.
"Wiped his own memory, while trying to attack us," Potter grumbled.
"Merlin, he attacked you?"
"Yeah," Potter nodded. "Turns out you were right...about a lot of things."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably under Potter's gaze before turning her eyes to the Weasley girl. She let out a small sigh and turned her gaze to her feet. "I'm not so sure that really mattered. Not where-erm-y'know, it doesn't matter. It's over now."
"Oh my," Lockhart piped up. "Little girl, looks like you hit your head, too. Do you remember who you are?"
Hermione's gaze shifted again to the wavering blond man with an exasperation that seemed odd for a child lucky to be a live. "I thought you said he wiped his own memory?"
"Also fell off a broom," Weasley added. "Hit his head on the way down, but seems fine."
"Honestly!" Hermione covered her eyes. "I fall down a flight of stairs and am unconscious for hours, but he is hit with a backfiring spell and hits head, but we still have put up with him?"
"Hey!" Lockhart called. "We can hear you. You are a very rude little girl."
"I'll feel guilty if you wind up being brain damaged," Hermione sighed, though her voice indicated she was feeling guilty now.
"How could you tell?" both boys laughed.
Hermione smiled, but failed to laugh at this.
"If you three are done with your little banter," Severus rested his hand on Hermione's head. "Perhaps we should consider leaving, yes?"
"But Lockhart broke the broom," Weasley pointed out.
Hermione's eyes widened and drifted to Fawkes, who absently plucked at his red and orange plumage before turning her gaze to him. "Dad, no," she squeaked.
"Go on," Hermione coughed between wretches. "I'll catch-"
"She really doesn't like heights, does she?" Ginny Weasley asked in a small voice.
"No," Weasley responded. "The morning before our first flying lesson she-erm-" he suddenly remembered both Hermione and Severus were in present company. "Never mind."
After about a minute passed Fawkes indicated a desire to lead and Severus watched as Potter and the Weasleys followed the waddling bird with an incessant Lockhart asking a million questions. Hermione and Severus tailed behind, the girl still unsteady on her feet. A grim silence took over the ridiculous procession until they the waddling phoenix stopped at McGonagall's office door.
There had been so many things he'd wanted to say to Hermione once they had reunited, but the words vanished despite his relief. He hoped once they were alone he'd be able to, but wasn't sure he would. She was his child, why was it so hard to apologize to her? To tell her he was wrong? She no longer clung to his words like she once did, but there were moments he knew she craved them. A few patient words of understanding when she was hurt or wrong, an apology if he was, reassurance when she doubted herself, his approval or an admission of pride when she'd done something worthy of it. Now that he thought of it, had he ever once told her he was proud of her?
You're safe now, he thought looking at her. There'll be plenty of time.
"Y-you okay, Dad?" Hermione said in a tiny voice.
"Just relieved to have you back."
The lot of them entered the office to find Dumbledore and McGonagalll comforting a middle-aged couple, a stout woman with curly red hair and a tall gangly man with horn-rimmed glasses and balding red hair. Both turned to face the door upon opening, teary-eyed and their freckled faces drained, but he recognized the relief that washed over them when they saw their two youngest children and well.
"Ginny!" a stout red-hair woman shouted throwing her arms around the petite girl. She then reached an arm around the Weasley boy's shoulders, dragging him into the embrace. "Oh, Ron! Both of you!"
He watched the Weasley reunion with a new understanding of how he might have overwhelmed Hermione when he first saw she was well. Mr. Weasley chided the girl whilst fussing over her, ensuring everything was alright.
"And you went to save her!" Mr. Weasley squeezed his son's shoulder. "You could have been killed! That was so stupid!"
"I know, Dad," he said. "But I couldn't let-"
"And so brave!" Mr. Weasley pulled him into a hug. "I'm so proud of you!"
Mrs. Weasley touched the boy's cheek with an arm still around her daughter. "But don't do it again!" she then turned her attentions to Potter, throwing her arms around him as if he too were a lost son. "And you, Harry! You saved our daughter! We could never thank you enough!"
If he were ever capable of feeling pity for the Weasley boy, that was the moment. Potter received praise for bringing the girls back safely while their son as chastised. He understood it, it was easier to be grateful when they weren't at risk of losing someone precious to them. It didn't matter that Weasley never saw the inside of the chamber or faced the creature, he had every intention to, and the Weasleys might have lost a son and a daughter.
"And I see you've fallen on your own sword, Gilderoy," Dumbledore sighed at the man standing next to Severus.
"Sword?" Lockhart knit his brows in confusion. "I don't have-the little boy covered in blood does though!"
"It's an expression, you insufferable idiot," Severus groaned. "I can't believe I let my child anywhere near you."
"I helped save your child!" Lockhart declared.
"No, you didn't," everyone (save Mr. and Mrs. Weasley) grumbled.
"Fell on his own sword..." Hermione chewed on a nail, eyes fixed on the ground. "Professor, does that mean-you knew?"
Dumbledore peered at her over his half-moon glasses at Hermione with a familiar knowing smirk and twinkle in his blue eyes. "We'll blame the colourful article you and Mr. O'Malley put together in September, and leave it at that."
Severus doubted that, and Hermione's narrowed eyes and lip biting suggested she did as well.
Dumbledore quickly turned his attention to the four Weasleys and McGonagall.
"Minevra," he said. "Could you take Gilderoy and the Weasleys to the hospital wing to be examined, please? I think I'd like to speak to these three alone."
"Of course, Albus," she nodded casting her gaze to the blood covered children. "Molly, Arthur, take your children and follow me. Come along, Gilderoy."
Once the four of them were left alone, Dumbledore lifted the bloodied sword from the desk and made eye contact with Potter. Severus wondered why he and Hermione were called behind. Whatever he had to impart to Potter had nothing to do with either of them, and the wavering girl at his side could have used the medical attention. Something he clearly should have thought of when following the damn bird.
"Do you know what-or rather whose- sword this is, Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently.
Potter shook his head, eyes glued to the goblin made blade.
"I'm sure Hermione does," the old man continued looking at his shrinking daughter.
Hermione stopped chewing her finger nail for a moment. A substitute for not being able to dig into her opposite hand it seemed. "Erm, sword of Godric Gryffindor, sir."
Dumbledore smiled and placed a hand on Potter's shoulder. "The Sword of Gryffindor. Legend as it, Harry, that only a true Gryffindor can call the sword to him during an act of true heroism. You wanted to save your friends and the sword came appeared to you."
Potter nodded cautiously.
"You earlier this year confided in me that you were conflicted about your nature. About where you belonged. The sword presented itself to you, Harry, you won't find much better evidence than that."
Severus felt that he and Hermione should not have been there. Even with the omission of details, it all felt deeply personal. What the hell was Dumbledore playing at?
"Yessir," Potter said.
Severus understood why Dumbledore wanted him there when he explained Riddle's self-loathing and the similarities Potter and Voldemort shared. Dumbledore intimated how Lily's sacrifice protected Potter, which was not easy to hear, but what Severus needed to hear from that was that some part of Voldemort was connected to Potter. He wasn't sure how yet, but he knew that would be important.
"I must confess," Dumbledore continued. "Though I'm disappointed you didn't see that I am on your side from the beginning-"
"P-Professor, I-" Potter stammered.
"It's quite alright, Harry," he smiled at the boy. "I know you were initially nervous about being labelled mad. And once Hermione figured out it was a basilisk and that's why you could hear it, I imagine you were in too deep. What matters is that you understand now that no one understands Voldemort, even sixteen-year-old Voldemort, the way I do. That and that I am loyal to you. But, yes! My confession was not one of loyalty or disappointment, but rather that I am impressed! You left no stone unturned, and you figured it out. The school is safe, and once again, it would seem we have you to thank."
Inflate the boy's head, that'll help...Severus thought still wondering why they were there.
"I-erm-" Potter cast his gaze at Hermione. "I had help."
"Ah, Hermione," he stroked his bead. "I don't know where to start. You found out the beast was using the pipes to get around, knew the answers to the opening lied with Myrtle, found out it was a basilisk, and even that Ginny Weasley was being manipulated by the diary. That was very clever and I am thoroughly disappointed."
What?! he thought. "Headmaster, my daughter's been through-"
"Yes, she's been through quite a bit, I agree," he nodded. "But she still failed to come forward at every turn. I expected you to know better, Hermione."
"Yessir," Hermione nodded, still biting her nails.
"But, sir-" Potter started.
"Harry, you grew up in an environment where you couldn't trust anyone," Dumbledore sighed. "But Hermione grew up with us, she should have known to come to us. Things were looking quite dire. The board of governors were looking to remove Hagrid because of the incident fifty years ago, and some were even calling for my removal. You could have at least told Harry about your suspicions. I imagine you know more could have been hurt?"
"Yessir," she nodded.
What the hell are you doing, Dumbledore? Severus placed his hand on Hermione's head. "Hermione's a child, headmaster. And is a victim here, I see no reason to hold her responsible for her own abduction. Or anything else that's happened since the opening."
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "I'm not holding her accountable for anything, Severus. But like father like daughter, Hermione sought to do everything herself. Unlike you, she put herself in grave danger."
"With all due respect, sir," Hermione bowed her head. "I couldn't come forward about Ginny until I knew for certain. I couldn't throw her to the wolves without evidence. What if I was wrong? I'd have ruined her life and people would still be in danger."
Dumbledore smiled and sighed. "Do you think we would expel Ginny Weasley without due process?"
"Erm," she shifted uncomfortably. "I-erm-Hagrid was expelled without an appeal. No one even bothered to bring up agromantulas can't petrify nor did they remember that Slytherin was arachnophobic. They simply saw a scapegoat! I-I-" she sighed. "I suppose that was stupid, wasn't it?"
"No, Hermione," Dumbledore's easy smiled remained. "Cynical to assume the worst of us, and it would seem, of your friends. But not stupid. You did well, but you do need to consider how your secrecy affected people. In fact, did it occur to either of you that if you had shared information you might have been working with all the pieces?"
Hermione stared at the floor in silent shame.
It hadn't occurred to Severus either. Not until she was abducted. He soothed her hair wondering just how deep this particular shame spiral would go. He knew his daughter well, and that meant he knew she was already reviewing every decision she'd made, and wondering which of the petrification victims rested on her shoulders. She did that long before Dumbledore illustrated his points.
"My point," Dumbledore sighed. "Is that you had put together many parts of the puzzle early on. In the future, I would advise you to at least trust your friends with the information. Harry and Ron couldn't, to use your words, ruin Ginny's life."
"Professor," Potter spoke. "Erm-"
"Don't, Harry," Hermione said in a small voice.
Potter ignored her. "She did tell us about Ginny back in December. I mean, at the time she thought she knew something, not was directly involved. Then last month after break, Hermione told us she thought the diary of Ginny's. We didn't believe her, sir."
"Very noble of you to admit that, Harry," Dumbledore smiled. "Many in your position might have simply taken the due credit for defeating the beast and rescuing the girls. Your soon-to-be-former Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, for instance. I'm glad the fame didn't go to your head. You're a good person, Harry. The ability to admit to one's short-comings and learn from them is the mark of a good man. Though it is my sincerest hope that the two of you not only begin to trust me, but to trust each other. To listen to each other. Now, I have to let Lucious Malfoy in before he conspires to have myself and Hagrid removed anyway. Severus, you and Hermione are excused. I'm sorry to have kept you both so long."
Dumbledore went to call Malfoy in, and Severus made use of the few seconds dropping to a whisper in French in Hermione's ear. "So, when he said your were 'right about a lot of things' is that what he meant?"
"Pas d'importante," Hermione shrugged.
"Hermione," Severus began moving a bloody lock of hair from her face. "I-"
"What is the meaning of this Dumbledore?" Malfoy roared. "You call me in here just to keep me waiting and-Oh, Snape, I'm certain you can talk some sense into the man!"
Lucious Malfoy looked every bit as much the prat prefect who greeted him on his first day of school. His posture, erect and pale pointed face haughty, while his immaculate white-blond hair and robes 'subtly' spoke to his status and wealth. Draco inherited more than the insufferable prat's appearance. He looked at them with only a little more respected than he awarded the tiny house-elf at his side.
Severus noted the house-elf's massive green eyes dart to Potter then to Hermione. The children regarded the house-elf with recognition, and he was left to wonder how Harry Potter and his daughter knew the Malfoy's house-elf. He seemed confused when he saw Hermione before something like recognition crossed his face.
"I hadn't any idea you were here, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said. "But as you can see, my child is injured. As a father, I'm sure you understand."
"Oh, yes," he nodded. "Though I doubt something like this would happen to Draco were I stationed so close. Even without it, to think of it. Isn't it funny that my son is safer than your daughter?"
"Indeed," he said between grit teeth. "I don't imagine much danger will come to the boy, when he has such knack for self-preservation. Now, if you'll excuse us, I'm certain you're incredibly busy. Come along, love." Before I start picking fights with the Malfoys.
"Do you think he had anything to do with the diary or chamber?" Hermione pondered when he was out of earshot. "It seems odd-"
"It doesn't matter," he sighed cupping her face. "He'd never face any consequences for it. What does matter is that it's over and that you're safe. I love you."
Hermione gently placed her good hand on his and smiled at him. "I love you too, Dad."
"I wish Dumbledore hadn't sent us away!" Hermione sighed. "I would have loved to see Dobby go free. Do you think he'll be alright?"
"Yeah," Harry smiled looking out the window. "I reckon he'll be alright. Anywhere is better than with the Malfoys."
"That couldn't be more true," Hermione agreed. "If I never see that smug, pointed face again, it'll be far too soon!" she turned to the petrified boy in the bed opposite her. "Dad says it'll be another week or so and we can revive the petrified patients. I wonder if they'll remember spending over half a year in hospital."
"You know, Hermione," Ron mused. "I think you've spent more time in the hospital this year than out of it."
"And I can't wait to be out of here," Hermione said. "It's-I know this is insensitive, but it's like Medusa's garden."
Between Ginny, Harry, Hermione, and Lockhart, the hospital had more lively patients than it had been used to. Though Harry and Ginny were discharged the previous day, apparently the twenty-four hours between her fall and recovery made her injuries more complicated to treat. She'd be out the next day, and everyone was in to see her.
"Creepy," Luna agreed.
Harry and Ginny shared a snigger at this. Ron simply looked confused.
"That was a straight-up mythology reference, Ron," Hermione said. "You didn't even need to read the Son of Hermes books for that one."
"Listen, you-" Ron started.
"Be nice, Ron," Ginny groaned. "She helped save me."
She helped save me... Hermione doubted that. What was worse, Hermione couldn't hear Ginny's laugh, see her face without hearing and seeing Riddle. It wasn't fair, Ginny was as much a victim as Hermione, if not more. Ginny was perfectly innocent, and Hermione knew it. Harry was almost killed by Riddle in Ginny's body too, and like always, he was fine. Harry and Ginny both had it worse, so why did Hermione struggle with this? What was wrong with her? She did mean everything she said to her, she did care, so why did it change once the adrenaline and shock wore off? Coward, you've failed her in more ways than one.
"I-erm-" Hermione forced herself to look at Ginny, digging her nails into her hands. "Ginny, I don't think I did anything by confronting you about the diary. I just got us both in danger. I don't think I saved anyone."
"And on that cheery note," Fred sighed looking at his brothers. "Harry, George and I should get going. Quidditch match. I'm glad you're both okay."
"Yeah," Harry sighed. "We'll be back after the match."
Percy nodded, adjusting his spectacles. "Yes, I should be there to watch the match, too. Coming, Penny?"
Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw in sixth year with curly black hair and grey eyes and Percy's girlfriend, gently shook her head before kissing his cheek. "Sorry, Perce. I've got to go to the library. I'll meet you after the match."
Hermione watched as each of them left, laughing and in good spirits. It brought a smile to her face as she buried the twinge of jealousy. If they could move on and be happy before Hermione could, that was fine. She was happy for them. She could join their ranks eventually.
"Aren't you going with them?" Hermione asked.
"No," Luna smiled taking her hand. "I figured I'd stay here. You look like you could use the company."
Hermione bit her lip and stared at her olive hand clasped in Luna's pale one. "I-I don't want you to-erm- feel like you have to. Go have fun."
Luna smiled leaning her head on her shoulder. "I know I don't have to, Hermione. I want to."
"Oh, erm," Hermione's cheeks burned. "I won't be much fun."
"I think you're way too hard on yourself." Luna let go of her hand in favour of throwing both arms around her shoulders.
"L-Luna!"
"Discharged tomorrow, eh?" her father rested a hand on Hermione's head. "I imagine you're quite happy about that."
"Yes!" Hermione nodded. "Ron pointed out I've spent more time this year in hospital than class. I think he was right."
"Oh, I think hell just froze over," he mused.
Hermione rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Ron's right sometimes, Dad."
"Yes," he said. "I suppose even the great Ronald Weasley is right from time to time."
Hermione stifled a giggle with her hand before stopping herself. "I should not be laughing at that."
He folded his arms over his chest and sighed. "Hermione, even if I don't 'see everything' and he's only been cruel in 'a handful of high stress situations', I think you've earned the right to laugh at that boy's expense...Even if he did open the door."
Hermione bit her lip and her eyes drifted to a far corner of wing, resting her chin on her knees. "Erm-"
"What is it, love?"
"Harry opened it from our end," she admitted. "We-we-erm-just kind of decided not to tell him. Please don't tell him."
"Mess with a teenaged boy's fragile ego, me?" he faked offence. "No, I'll leave that to you when he finally pushes you past 'just disappointed."
"Okay," she smirked. "If I grow up to be cruel, I'm pointing to this conversation as the reason why."
"How shall I ever live with the guilt?" he said dryly.
"I hear avoidance works wonders," Hermione nodded.
"Do you now?" he mussed her hair. "I shall have to try it."
The two shared a quiet laughter and Hermione felt for the first time in a very long time that things were finally normal between them again. She knew she had some hard questions to ask, but she let the moment sit between them. Even if she had a million things to worry about, to feel guilty about, she could relish in the comforting hand on her head and the warmth they shared.
Her father's smile weakened and his black eyes lost their amused glimmer, but not their warmth. He sat next to her, his hand still on the top of her head. The mood changed and Hermione wondered if she'd said or done anything wrong. Though whatever it was, he wasn't upset with her, even if she picked up on a hint of sadness or guilt in his sallow face.
"Are you okay, Dad?" she asked.
"Hermione, love," he moved a lock of hair from her face. "What you did was incredibly reckless, but you did it trying to help people. I can't say I approve, but I am-"
He was cut off by a sudden singing of a particularly offensive limerick that sent Gilderoy Lockhart from the other end of the hospital wing to slam the card shut and turn his gaze to them. His face flushed a bright pink, but he instead beamed at Hermione and her father before giving a forced chuckle: "Just another poor soul plagued with jealousy. No need for sympathies! For every one like that I have ten from admirers!"
O'Malley, Hermione thought rolling her eyes. The man's lost his memory, hardly appropriate!
"How is that man still so vain without his memories?" her father groaned. "It's as if it's ingrained in his very essence."
"It might be," Hermione mused, as guilt and annoyance warred within her. Annoyance won. "Someone's parent probably gave him too much praise growing up."
"Indeed," he agreed, hesitating a moment while clenching his jaw.
What are you mulling over, Dad? she wondered but waited.
"And remind me again why I didn't expel O'Malley?" he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose.
"You don't know it was O'Malley," Hermione shifted uneasily.
"He was responsible back in October, and he's responsible now," he shook his head. "Though I suppose that doesn't matter right now, does it?"
Hermione bit her lip and shifted her eyes. She didn't want to ask any difficult questions, but she was curious, and her father, despite Lockhart's interruption, was in a good mood. And it wasn't a big question that would ruin everything. No, I'll just leave it. He's happy, and things are good.
"Ask whatever you're thinking about asking, love," he placed his hand back on the top of her head. "You know, since you were little you'd bite your lip and your eyes would drift to a far corner whenever you were contemplative."
"That easy to read, eh?" Hermione nervously laughed.
"It certainly makes my life easier," he said. "Now, what is it?"
"Erm," she sighed. "Just well we're on the topic of O'Malley, I need to know. What did you say to him?"
He stared at her for moment, knit his eyebrows in confusion while absently soothing her hair. "That's what you wanted to know?"
It was Hermione's turn to be confused and surprised. She tilted her head and blinked for a moment. "What did you think I was going to ask?"
"I suppose," he said. "That I imagined you would want answers on the diary, or what happened in the chamber. Or perhaps that you'd want to know why the headmaster was so harsh with you."
Hermione chewed her lip. She did want to know how the diary was possessed, the specifics of how it was cast and if there were more diaries out there, but she also expected to find the answers in a book. She knew her father's speciality was Dark Arts, but she didn't expect him to know, or to tell her if he did. And as far as Dumbledore, she knew why.
"It's true I'm curious about the diary, but I'm not exactly sure how much more I want to know right now," she sighed. "And as far as Professor Dumbledore goes. I can't expect the same level of leniency as Harry, can I? Life's not fair, that's just the way it-why are you looking at me like that?"
Her father stared at her with a pitying gaze, his mouth twisted as he swallowed. Why was it so damn hard to interpret his expressions? It seemed as if a realization came upon him, but his eyes, something about them seemed so sad.
"Just happy you're alright," he sighed, drawing her into his lap.
A silence passed between them. Part of Hermione wanted to remind him that she was far too old to be sitting in her father's lap at twelve, but a greater part of her relished the feeling of safety and warmth. It wasn't just security, she felt cared for, wanted. Hermione knew her father cared, but it was rare she felt wanted, by him or anyone else. She leaned her head against his chest.
"Now, I believe you were asking about O'Malley?" he asked after a while. "I told him I found it unsettling that a fifteen-year-old boy had a pet name for my twelve-year-old daughter. Of all the positions I'm willing to re-evaluate, that is not one of them."
"And here I thought you'd be happy I made other friends?" Hermione tried for a jovial tone. "And a Slytherin, no less! But you have nothing to worry about. It's ironic, apparently I'm cynical? Me? Can you believe it?"
He gave a small chuckle and pat her on the head. "Shockingly, I can."
"Can't imagine where I got that from," she said.
"Haven't the slightest."
Months passed without further event. March saw the revival of the petrified students, each slowly integrating back into their normal lives and the dark veil that shrouded the corridors lifted. The happy mood improved when Dumbledore announced the cancellation of exams. Students buzzed about the corridors and grounds, enjoying the rare Scottish sunshine.
June drew to a close and Hermione found her way to the boarding carriages to say her farewells. Harry, Ron, Neville, and Ginny waited for the carriages to arrive discussing their summer plans.
"We'll probably just stick around the burrow," Ron sighed. "But it'll be nice to relax for once."
Neville smiled and shrugged. "What about you, Harry?"
"I reckon I'll just try not to go mad with the Dursleys," he shrugged before noticing Hermione. "Going back to Japan, Hermione?"
"Hi," she waved. "I just wanted to see you lot off. It's been a hell of a year, eh?"
Ginny made eyecontact with Hermione and nodded with a weak smile. The two girls shared a knowing glance before sighing and looking away. No one else knew about Hermione breaking through to Ginny, and she imagined Ginny was still coming to terms with the things Riddle made her do. Ginny remembered trying to fight off Riddle in the chamber, and giving up when she thought all was lost. If Hermione could get over herself she could try to commiserate with Ginny on some level.
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "How do you reckon we almost die next year?"
"One of Hagrid's pets, probably," Ron scoffed.
"Well," Hermione mused. "So, far it's been a dark wizard, magical creature, my love of patterns dictates another dark wizard." Or a normal year, one normal year...Why are you fine?
"Or a combination of the two!" a voice piped up behind her. "I'll put a sickle on werewolves. Hi, Hermione!"
Hermione turned to see Luna beaming at the five of them, with her wand tucked behind her ear, and clutching a copy of the Quibbler to her chest. Ron and Harry shifted uncomfortably, before exchanging a glance Hermione was all too familiar with. Ginny and Neville stared at the ground, perhaps embarrassed for her.
"Werewolves, eh?" Ron scoffed. "I'll take you up on it."
"It's a deal then!" she sang. "I've got to go!" she threw her arms around Hermione.
"L-Luna!" Hermione gasped, taken aback before returning the hug. "I'll write you."
"I'll write loads!" she declared before waving again. "I'll see you lot in the fall!"
"Think your boyfriend in Japan will be jealous?" Ron teased.
"For the last time, Ron," Hermione sighed. "Hiro's not my boyfriend. And leave her be. She's really nice!"
"Will you two give it a rest?" Harry grumbled. "Mahoukatoro's the school's name, right? I'll write you."
"Me too!" Ron nodded. "Anyway-erm-safe travels!" And he disappeared on to the carriage.
"Erm," Ginny rubbed her arms and looked downward. "Thanks, Hermione. For-erm-everything. I'll write."
Ginny vanished with her brother and Hermione was left to wonder if she was referring to the chamber, and if she was, was she being sarcastic? She wasn't sure if she'd actually helped Ginny by breaking through to her, and now she had memories she wouldn't otherwise.
"What was that about?" Harry asked.
"I wish I knew," Hermione shrugged. "You'll stay safe, won't you?"
"You know me," Harry rolled his eyes. "I always do!"
The two shared an awkward laugh and an even more awkward embrace before Harry boarded the carriage. Hermione watched the lot of them disappear over the crisp blue horizon before heading back to the castle.
"Hermione?" a voice called from behind her.
"Gah!" Hermione leapt and spun around to face her father.
"Some things never change," he sighed.
"Well," she gave an awkward laugh. "Some things do."
"Of that," he smiled placing a hand on her head. "I am all too aware."