Chapter 51: Power

27th December, 1998

The morning came much sooner than she expected. He was still sleeping in her arms. Clutching to her like she was his life support. She knew he wouldn't let go, and it brought her peace. She wished she could distance herself only just a tiny bit, just enough to study him properly.

Hermione had to spend a very long time practically forcing herself to stop anxious thoughts from breaking their way into her mind. She was a calculated and very thoughtful individual. It simply wasn't in her nature to allow events present or past to go unrevised. As the clock struck seven, her mind started racing with every memory from the previous 36 hours. Every little detail which she could remember was being rapidly digested and recycled in her head.

Harry had cast the killing curse. He killed- no, murdered at least a dozen death eaters in cold blood. With the Elder Wand, no less. He massacred Greyback right in front of her very eyes, and she could almost tell he enjoyed it. His eyes were bright red, just like Voldemort's. That was the most horrific part. And yet, now that exact same man was here, in bed with her, wrapped around her torso. From the little of what she managed to hear; Harry had displayed incredibly impressive and powerful magic. Enough to the point at which death eaters cowered before him. Hermione always knew how powerful Harry could be. She knew ever since she had met him. But actually seeing him cast such dark magic rippled through her mind like an endless tsunami. In that moment, everything about him was different; he was a different man. Even his voice sounded strangely odd. Deeper, more menacing.

Hermione was a very practical and logical, however. She knew that most of these factors were caused by Harry's distress. She knew the death eaters had planted a boggart for Harry to stumble across. She could not even bring herself to imagine the horror he must have gone through. Months ago, not long after the war, she herself used to have nightmares. Some in which Harry had been killed by Voldemort. That the war was lost. She could still feel the terror of seeing his body carried by Hagrid. It was easily one of the worst moments of her life. But Harry always got back up. His eyes always opened in the end. But in Harry's experience, her eyes did not. She could still clearly remember the rage in his red eyes. And yet, there was also emptiness. She couldn't quite describe it herself. But his eyes seemed void of all life. As if Harry was not even present behind them. And yet, when she had looked at him back at St Mungo's, it seemed like life had slowly started to return to them. Along with the original emerald blaze she knew so well. She always loved his eyes. There was so much detail lost in those deep shades of green. So much sadness, but also so much bravery and life. She loved the way his irises would widen when he saw her. The way his lips would part ever so slightly whenever they made eye contact. Or the way he said her name. It made her feel like the only woman in the world. She loved Harry Potter, with all her life. And so, in that moment she knew nothing Harry could ever do would sway her love. He killed. He tortured. And yet, she would never be able to hold him accountable for it. Those monsters forced him to act. There was nothing he could have done.

For a moment, Hermione felt a shiver of relief go down her back. She had realised the possible future Harry could have had if the Death Eaters had truly killed her. That demon they released; he would have been unstoppable. Hermione truly wasn't sure what would have happened next. Would he have been satisfied with killing all remaining Death Eaters? She could never ask him. She knew the next few weeks, maybe even months would be extra rough for Harry. But she was ready to support him in any way she could. For all she cared they could stay in this mansion for the next few years, and she wouldn't mind. As long as she was with him.

The sun was now piercing through the curtains and to her surprise, she was getting quite sleepy. She had stayed up all night guarding Harry. Making sure to be there if he was to wake up from any nightmare. But if she was to be quite honest with herself, it was also to make sure he didn't run off anywhere. In a perfect scenario, she would have handcuffed herself to him. Just to be safe, of course.

"-Mione'…" Came a raspy voice.

It startled her at first. "I'm here, my love." She whispered back. Harry's hold over her waist tightened as he buried his face deeper into her chest.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice muffled by the sheets.

"I'm perfect, Harry. How are you?"

For a moment, it was just his even breathing, "Hungry."

She started to shift, trying to make way out of his hold "I'll get us some-" but before she could even make a move, the hold tightened even more. This man was strong. She forgot.

"No. Stay. Please."

How could she ever say no?

"Okay. Are you sure you don't want to eat?" She asked him.

"Do you?" He asked.

She smiled, "No, I'm okay."

"Then I'd like to stay like this. Just a little longer." He responded.

Hermione kissed him on the head, "Me too." She made herself more comfortable and closed her eyes.

It was a cloudy morning. Not a very shocking sight in London. It was the morning after boxing day. And he was at work. Beautiful. Jax Weller wasn't the most popular guy in town. In fact, he was quite… alone. If he was honest with himself. He sipped at his now lukewarm coffee as he stared at the ever so growing stack of cases on his desk. Missing wizards. Missing muggles. Wanted Death Eaters. The pile didn't end. After the fall of Voldemort, he really thought things would get easier. But they actually just got harder. Busier. Taking back the ministry was difficult. And now they had two years' worth of work to catch up on. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths. Boxing day morning had been quite the rollercoaster. Hermione Granger had been kidnapped by Death Eaters. Harry Potter then took it upon himself to find her. He did find them. And then there were no more left.

The flashes of the three crime scenes were still waving around in his vision. Blood. So much blood. Limbs scattered across a snow-covered street. No one ever points out just how much brighter blood looks on top of snow. These were things Jax was used to. And yet, it made him feel uneasy. The fact that it was all done by one wizard. Granted. Everyone knew Harry Potter was the chosen one. But no one ever truly considered him all that powerful. Albus Dumbledore was powerful. Grindelwald was powerful. Tom Riddle was equally as impressive. But Harry Potter… he was just a kid.

Jackson was quite gutted when he found out the same year he left Hogwarts, Harry Potter had joined as a first year. He missed out on the opportunity to meet the one who stopped the dark lord all those years back. And yet when he finally did meet him outside Hogwarts a few weeks back. It was quite… underwhelming? Granted. He knew he was looking at the wizard who defeated the dark lord. But he really was just a normal kid. He was on guard clearly, clutching onto Miss Granger like he was ready for an attack at any moment. But he seemed mostly normal. Good kid. Reserved and definitely slightly awkward. But good. Jax was thrown out of his thoughts when a knock came on his office door.

"Come in." He mumbled.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new minister for magic just entered his office for what felt like the millionth time this month.

"Kingsley… you know you're not an Auror anymore, right?" Jax laughed.

Kingsley nodded and smiled, "Once an Auror, always an Auror. You should know that better than anyone, Weller. It runs in your blood." Jax's family had been in the Auror department for many generations. He was the ninth or maybe the tenth Weller to step into this department.

"What can I do you for, Minister?" Jax said teasingly. He knew Kingsley was not yet quite used to overseeing Magical Britain.

"I wanted to talk about the last two days. Has there been any news?"

Jax shook his head, sitting up. "No sir. All evidence has been collected. Three crime scenes. All pretty much finished. We have all areas under surveillance in case any more death eaters decide to show up. But honestly speaking, after this… I'm not sure there's all that many left."

Kingsley nodded again, "it seems Yaxley brought down everyone he had managed to scavenge over the last few months. Any word from Arthur?"

Jax shook his head, "No sir. Mister Potter is pretty much off the grid. I doubt anyone from the inner order would let the Aurors come near him right now. He answered all our questions at St Mungo's and then we decided to let him be."

Kingsley sat down at the chair in front of Jax's desk and sighed deeply, "That poor kid. I can't imagine what he'd gone through."

A moment of silence went by.

"It's quite bizarre though, isn't it? All these crime scenes. Seems like the stuff you'd see back during the war. Except these only ever had Voldemort involved." Jax noted.

"I'm worried. This is something we see from Death Eaters. From murderers and criminals." Kingsley added.

Jax stared at the minister, "Kingsley, surely you don't think Potter would…"

"No, I don't. I just. I'm not sure. He's powerful. He has the Elder Wand. I still remember the way his eyes looked. He looked like…"

"Tom Riddle" Jax finished.

Kingsley just sat there in silence.

"I mean… nothing can really be done. Potter didn't do anything wrong. He acted in self-defence for both himself and Miss Granger."

"Weller… do you think we could get her in for some questioning? I wish to get her view on all of this. After all, it seems like she might know Potter better than anyone else. Perhaps she could grant me some reassurance. Promise me that Harry is still with us. I'd hate to see this escalate." Kingsley requested.

Jax shook his head "I don't know, Kingsley. Herself and Mister Potter aren't exactly separable. You saw how he was at the hospital. He's practically her bodyguard. And likewise, she's basically his first line of contact. You can't really get to Harry without going through her first. I never really believed in soul mates until I saw them."

Kingsley sighed again "If only I knew where he lives. I wish I could visit him. Just speak to him properly. Calmy. Without so many people around us. I haven't had the chance to actually talk with him yet. Discuss his future in the wizarding world."

Jax was surprised, "But aren't you in the order? Surely you should know where he is."

Kingsley shook his head, "The Potter Manor. I know of it. But its location is complete secret. Only known of by a few people. Gringotts has records of it, but they would never reveal them. It's against their every law of data protection. The Weasleys know. But they are just as protective over Potter as Miss Granger. They want him left alone until he is ready."

Jax smiled, "It seems like a lovely family. Good support circle."

"I know I must give him time. And now maybe even more than before. But Jackson. You must understand. A powerful wizard is always a risk. Just like Riddle… just like Dumbledore. With that kind of power, always comes a lot of risk."

Jax nodded. He understood. He knew. And yet, when he stood in front of Harry Potter, he just never sensed a threat. Potter was a good kid. Someone who just wanted to live. To be happy. He saw much pain behind those green eyes. Far more pain that he'd like. Far more than any person his age should have to experience.

"Do you wish me to look for him?" Jax asked.

Kingsley took a long moment to think, "No. Once again, we must put our faith and hope towards chance. I don't like it. But I have no other choice." He stood up, making his way to the door. And then stopped. "You know…" He turned to Jax once more, "There may come a time when Potter decides to join the Auror order. Granted, nothing is set in stone. But he might. If he does. I'd like you to train him."

Jax blinked, "You want… me? To train him?"

Kingsley smiled, "You're far better than you give yourself credit for. There's a reason a Weller has always been in here." The door closed behind him.

Jax chuckled, "Training Harry Potter. Interesting." His smile quickly disappeared when he glanced at his paperwork. He realised he could no longer ignore it. But first. He grabbed his mug. A fresh coffee.

It was late afternoon when she woke up again. And to her worst horror, he wasn't with her anymore. The empty spot her hand landed on jump started her heart, she rushed off the bed and onto her feet, praying that he was still in the house. She hoped her conversation from last night would have been enough to persuade him. But a part of her also knew just how stubborn Harry could be. How overly protective and self-destructive his nature was. She couldn't bear to discover him gone.

She rushed through the house frantically, scanning door to door. He breathing had stopped when she noticed the fireplace wasn't lit. The sofa was empty. She hurried through to the kitchen and took a sigh of relief when saw spotted him in the middle of the garden. He was sitting amongst the snow, staring into the afternoon sky. It was already getting dark.

"Harry?" She whimpered under the cold as she approached.

No answer.

She circled around and to face him. His expression was blank. As if either deep in thought, or not thinking at all.

"Why are you out here? It's cold."

Another moment of silence.

"Why do you love me?" A whisper came. His voice was weak, but she heard it clear it as day. But she needed more time. He surprised her. She knew every word she'd say in the next few minutes would have tremendous effect.

"What?"

"I'm a murderer. How could you love a murderer?"

She knew it would hurt, but she knelt in the freezing snow in front of him, trying to make eye contact. "Harry. You're not a murderer. You killed them in self-defence."

His eyes came down to meet hers. There was something wicked in his expression. Like he was going insane. "No. I enjoyed killing them. It made me feel better. Seeing them suffer. Like how they did to others. Seeing them panic and cry out in fear as I hunted them. It gave me a thrill. As I saw life leave them just like it did from me. Justice. It felt good."

Hermione felt the beating in her chest speed up.

Harry smiled sadly, "You're scared of me. Good. You should be. I'm a killer. I can hear your heart. The wolf. He speaks to me more now. The lion is upset. He says I used him."

She wrapped her arms around him. She just wanted all this to be over. She could feel the weight of all this finally starting to crush her. Harry was going crazy. He couldn't deal with what he had done. How could she ever talk him out of these thoughts?

"Why does the lion feel used?" She asked.

Harry's face turned cold, "He helped me kill Greyback. The wolf wanted to do it. But I chose the lion. The lion didn't want to. But I made him. I wanted Greyback to feel fear. The wolf couldn't have done that. Greyback knows wolves. He doesn't know lions."

Hermione tried to keep her breathing steady. Harry was communicating with his animagi forms. That wasn't normal. Animagi were supposed to be part of a wizard. Essentially another version of them. Not a separate entity. Something wasn't right. "The lion doesn't like killing?"

"Neither of them do." Harry explained, "The wolf doesn't. But he knows it had to be done. The lion hated it. He thinks it was the wrong call.

"What is the lion saying now?" Hermione asked.

Harry didn't answer.

"Harry. Maybe we should go back inside? Wouldn't you like to sit by the fireplace? I'm sure it would be nice." Please say yes. She hoped.

"Death gave the elder wand to the oldest brother. The oldest brother got his throat slit. But the story didn't mention that he had lost his mind to bloodlust. It was temptation. To have such power. But not use it. That's what drove him mad. Dumbledore. I need to speak with Dumbledore." Harry muttered as Hermione carried him to the house.

"We'll go speak with Dumbledore. But let's go warm up in the house first, okay?" Hermione begged.

Harry didn't resist as she dragged him by his arm. "Dumbledore. I need to ask him how to fight it. He will know."

As soon as they got to the living room, Harry collapsed on the sofa, eyes closed. Hermione flashed her wand towards the logs in the fireplace as a flame sparked to life, illuminating Harry's face. She studied him carefully as he slept. He must have been out in that garden for a while. Something was seriously wrong with him, and she couldn't figure out what. Then an idea sparked.

"Beamey!"

The elf appeared before she finished calling the elf's name.

"Is Harry better now?" The sad elf asked.

Hermione shook her head, "No not yet. Listen, I need to know. You are a free elf. But… you still consider Harry your master, is that correct?"

The elf nodded, her ears flapping, "Beamey will serve the Potter house no matter what."

"Could you please do me a huge favour? I would forever be in your debt."

Beamey nodded, eager to know the request.

"Could you please look after Harry while I'm gone. And by look after I mean… don't let him leave the manor. Physically force him to stay here if you must. He's not right at the moment. He needs to be supervised and I need to go find out how to stop him from getting worse. Could you please just… make sure he's safe while I'm gone? I won't be long.

The elf looked worried, "Will Beamey have to use force?"

Hermione nodded. "You might. I hope not. But it's possible. Would you be okay with that? Could you restrain him? Stop him from leaving here? I know it's a big ask. But we aren't your masters. Nothing he says could force your choice. You're a free elf, Beamey. And I'm asking this favour as a friend. As family.

It took a minute, but Beamey agreed, "Beamey will make sure Harry is safe. Harry will not leave the Manor until Hermione is back."

Hermione knelt down and kissed Beamey on the forehead, "Thank you! This means a lot. I need to go and do some research. I won't find any answers here, but I think I know where to go. I'll be back as soon as I can. Hopefully with an answer." Hermione then rushed upstairs and changed in a hurry. As soon as she had all she needed she left and apparated.

The pile of books beside her was growing taller as she continued to scan countless pages and articles. The Grimmauld place library was full of scrolls about dark magic and its influence. The abuse of power and the effect it can have on a wizard's psyche. But there was close to nothing on how to stop it.

"Kreacher, I don't understand. How did Wizards like Severus Snape manage to come back? How did the dark magic not consume them?" Hermione asked the elf.

Kreacher was shuffling back and forth between isles. He was trying to help. Hermione was grateful. She felt their relationship had come a long way since she first met him.

"Master Regulus conquered it. It was not easy. But not impossible."

Hermione's gaze shot off the book she was studying and onto the elf. "Regulus! You're right! He came back to the good side. Just like Snape. But how?"

Kreacher shook his head, "Kreacher does not know. Kreacher only knows that there was no spell. No incantation or charm that made them better. It was simply their will. The soul. Yes. The wizard's soul. It is powerful. The soul is where the magic comes from. Master Harry must find goodness within his soul.

Dark Magic. Dark Magic is intense. It is powerful. It can only be used by wizards powerful enough."

Soul. Powerful. Intense. An idea sparked. "The Elder Wand. It's the Elder Wand. Harry has only cast dark magic while using the Elder Wand. If we get him to use the Phoenix again. That wand is pure. He had never cast dark magic with it. It won't have the same effect."

Kreacher seemed confused. "Kreacher does not understand this."

Hermione smiled, "Kreacher don't you see? You said it yourself. Magic comes from the soul. A wizard uses a wand as a means to bridge his magic with the outside world. The wand is simply a projector of the magic within each wizard. Harry's magic was projected through the Elder Wand. It was intense. Powerful. That kind of power can drive wizards crazy. It can make them lose rationality."

She realised it was becoming much harder to explain it in words. She stood up and started pacing the library.

"The wand chooses the wizard. Why? Because it finds a connection with the wizard. The magic within the wizard responds to the wand. They communicate and work in tandem."

"How does this help master Potter?" Kreacher asked.

"The Elder Wand never chose Harry. He won it. It belonged to him ever since he disarmed Draco Malfoy. That's the way the Elder Wand had been passed through generations. It was always won. The wand never picked anyone. It simply responded to the one who was its current owner. That owner was always decided through combat… or through submission."

Hermione's pace became quicker as everything started taking shape. She was practically dancing at this point.

"Through hundreds of years the elder wand was passed around. Won in combat. Given as birth right or inheritance. But it never actually picked anyone. Not since its very first owner."

Kreacher's ears perked up, "The oldest Peverell?"

Hermione smiled, "No, Kreacher. Remember the story. Yes, the first wizard to own the Elder Wand was Antioch Peverell. But the Elder Wand never chose him. The wand was simply given to him by… Death.

Death is the true master of the Elder Wand. And so the wand is a projection of its soul. A good wizard's wand will never be good at casting dark magic, not unless that wizard becomes corrupted, not unless they truly turn evil. The phoenix feather, it's capable of dark magic, we've seen this through Voldemort. But its twin brother, that wand is a projection of Harry's soul. And it has only ever cast beautiful magic." She smiled again, "Pure magic. Whereas the Elder Wand… it used his magic to cause pain… to cause death. In a moment of desperation, he instinctively picked the Elder Wand because he knew it would aid him. He knew it would help him. It called for him. Because it wanted his power."

Hermione started to quote, "It is powerful and ancient magic. The connection between a wand and its wizard is sacred. Both are spiritually connected. That's why the wand chooses the wizard. We cannot see the magic within us. But our wands can. That's what Ollivander told me when I first met him. Our wands are a reflection of our own magic. Of us!"

The room went silent.

Kreacher bowed in front of Hermione, "Mistress Granger truly is a very smart witch."

"Thank you, Kreacher. The only question is, how exactly does it work? Do I just separate Harry from the wand, make him use the phoenix again? It's all still rather complicated."

"Beamey doesn't know." The elf explained.

Harry was confused, "She didn't tell you where she went?"

The elf shook her head.

Harry sat up, "I should go look for her." Then Beamey jumped on his lap and raised her hands.

"Harry cannot leave! Hermione said Harry must stay here."

Harry was lost for words for a minute, "Beamey, you can't force me to stay."

Beamey shook her head, "Beamey must make sure Harry is safe. Beamey can only be certain if Harry stays here."

Harry could feel a strange influence raining over him. The elf was using some kind of magic. He could feel it. His pocket was tingling.

Elf magic is powerful.

The elder wand. It was talking to him.

But not powerful enough to stop us.

Beamey leapt off Harry's lap and stood near the fire, staring at Harry intensely. "Dark magic is here." She warned.

Harry reached inside his pocket and revealed the wand. The elder wood seemed to be in better condition than ever as it glowed and reflected the fire light.

You know the spell.

It felt strange. It was almost like a Horcrux. Except, this one didn't feel wrong. It didn't feel dangerous or evil. It felt safe. It felt just and necessary.

"Harry?"

He turned to see Hermione, a puzzled look on her face.

"Where did you go?" He asked, as he stood up, clutching the wand.

She will try to stop us. You know the spell.

"I figured out how to make things better." Her eyes shot to his hand, tightly gripping the elder wood. "Harry? Is everything okay?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I'm feeling better now."

She reached into her cloak. Everything after this all happened within just a couple seconds.

Harry's arm shot up.

A protego barrier formed right between them.

Beamey's arms were waving fluently through the air. "Hermione. Dangerous magic here. Very dangerous.

Harry's face was confused as he stared at the wand in front of him, pointed right towards Hermione, only the barrier separating them.

"Harry?" She asked again, her puzzling look turning uncertain. She was holding Harry's wand. "You should use this wand instead. There is no time to explain. You have to trust me."

We cannot let her take it. She wants it for herself.

Harry could feel his grip tightening. It's like his arm had a mind of its own. And yet, he felt protective over the wand. Why did she want to take it from him? The wand saved her. It saved both of them. If not this wand, neither of them would be alive right now. "What do you want with the wand?"

Hermione's eyes widened, "Harry. I do not want the wand. I just want you to use this one instead. Just put the elder wand down. You don't need it anymore."

"What do you know about what I need?" He asked venomously.

YOU KNOW THE SPELL

"Harry. I know what you're feeling right now. But I need you to trust me. You don't want to feel like this. I know you think you need this power. But you must understand. You already have it in you. The wand is simply a projection. You don't need it. The wand needs you." She explained.

SHE WANTS IT FOR HERSELF. YOU MUST STOP HER. YOU KNOW THE SPELL!

He stared into her eyes, and somewhere within, he finally saw what he needed to see. He felt a piece of him come back to life. He closed his eyes and focused on the grip in his hand.

It wasn't easy. But eventually. His fingers unclenched, as the elder wand fell to the ground.

The relief in his body felt instant. It was a like a giant weight had been dropped off his shoulders.

The barrier between them dropped as Beamey relaxed herself too. Hermione took a deep sigh of relief as she approached Harry, reaching out for him to grab the phoenix.

Harry steadied himself and reached for the wand. The moment his fingers made contact with the holly wood handle; a warm tingle spread across his arm. It felt similar to the first time he had encountered the wand. It felt good. It felt right. He felt himself coming back.

"How… I don't understand."

Hermione smiled, "Took me a while too."

It all took a long while to explain, but Harry got around to it eventually.

"But what about Dumbeldore? How was he able to control it?" Harry asked.

"Harry the wand felt your power. It felt your rage. Your pain. You must understand the wand feeds off this energy. It uses it to get as much power out of you as possible. The wand is only at its most powerful when it's being used to cause chaos. Every spell is simple, but dark magic is effortless. The wand makes it so. It belongs to death itself. Death is its only true master. But you…

Harry, you are the master of death. You own the invisibility cloak. You used the resurrection stone. That makes you the most powerful wizard alive. Dumbledore… he must have seen this. I think that's why he returned the invisibility cloak back to you. Surely he felt it too. The power of this wand is strange. It cannot be explained. All I know. It isn't good."

"All of this just seems beyond me." He marvelled. "How did you manage to figure any of this out?" Harry looked at her puzzled.

Hermione laughed, "You know me. Everything is a mystery to solve, until it isn't."

Harry planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, "What could I ever do without you?"

Her smile dropped, "Harry. All of this happened because of me. If I never-

"Don't say that. None if this was your fault. Don't ever put any of it on your conscience. Things happened. And we dealt with it. In the best way we could have."

A minute of silence followed. Hermione finally remembered the wand which lay forgotten on the floor. "What do we do with it?"

"I'm going to snap it."

She stared at him.

"This kind of power. We've seen time and time again. It's just not safe. Look what it managed to do to me. I nearly went insane. It feels like the wand has a mind of its own. We cannot risk it being used by anyone else. We must destroy it." He explained.

Harry was right. As long as the wand existed, someone would want it. Someone would use it. It was better this way. "When?"

"As soon as we're back at Hogwarts. I also need to speak with Ollivander. He'll know what to do." Harry brushed his hand against her back, "Let's worry about it tomorrow. For now, I just want to focus on you." He smiled.

Hermione smiled, "You won't see me complaining."

4th January, 1999

"It feels like something always drags us back into this place." Ron complained as they neared the edges of the forbidden forest.

Harry laughed, "Well, luckily you won't need to accompany me this time. No more following spiders that's for sure."

"Oh merlin, don't even remind me of that stuff." Ron sighed but couldn't supress a smile.

"Even back then, things felt so much easier. So much simpler. Right?" Harry asked.

Ron just nodded, "Yeah. Good old times. Traversing through underground chambers and killing hundred-year-old snakes."

Harry reached into his rucksack and pulled out the invisibility cloak. As he pulled it around his shoulders Ron got his attention.

"Why didn't Hermione come with us?"

"Well. She wanted to get some studying done over the holiday. Sadly, that didn't happen. She's been panicking a little bit about falling behind. So, I told her we'll deal with it. I pretty much forced her to stay in the library and study. But deep down I saw she was very grateful. It's not like Hermione to fall behind." Harry explained.

Ron laughed, "Come on, Harry. We both know she's going to get top marks in every single exam anyway. It's Hermione we're talking about. She figured out all this elder wand nonsense to start with. Which is actually kind of funny considering she didn't believe in none of it back in the day."

Harry laughed, "That's the Hermione we know and love. Either way. I want her to be a student for a while again. You know she loves this. It's where she thrives. It's who she is. She's been talking to me about studying at a muggle university once she finished her N.E.W.T.s"

Ron stared at him in shock, "Woah. Okay now that's intense. She's something else."

"I think it's actually perfect for her. She's muggle born after all. It only makes sense for her to understand both worlds." Harry added.

Ron nodded, "More like master both worlds."

Once the cloak fully engulfed Harry, he disappeared into thin air.

"I will never not find that cool." Ron smiled.

"I'm going to try and do this quick. You happy to wait around?" Harry's voice came.

"Yeah, it's all good. By all means take all the time you need in this lovely forest. I'm going to pay Hagrid a visit. Have some tea. Honestly, we should do this more often. I like it this way."

All Ron heard was Harry's laugh as it slowly got further away and in between the trees.

"Why do I really feel like I should have gone with him?" Ron asked himself.