Her scent told Harry that Hermione had been crying and that she was upset — there was a sour note underneath her unique sweetness.

As he exited the Grand Staircase and tried to block out the multitude of noises and smells in the large hall, he tried to focus on her heartbeat, but there were too many thick walls between them still.

She must've gone down to the second level of the Hogwarts dungeons.

Nodding to a few Gryffindors amidst the wandering students and wondering why two fourth-year girls started blushing as they saw him, Harry went to the smaller staircase that went down to the Potions classroom and the Slytherin Common Room. He was following a hunch as much as his nose, but something told him it would get him to Hermione just a few steps earlier.

Carefully, he descended into the bowels of the castle, expanding his senses as much as possible to pinpoint not just his friend, but also other people who might interrupt them — and Harry didn't want to be interrupted when she told him what the hell had happened in the old classroom as he'd been delayed by Professor McGonagall.

The answer was probably Ron.

Quiet as a ghost he snuck down a dimly lit corridor, noting how cold and damp the air was down here.

Of the three doors he could see to both sides of the corridor in front of him, one was marked by Hermione's scent. It was also infinitesimally warmer than the others since she was in the room behind. Knowing that she'd probably sensed him by now, he didn't linger to eavesdrop, but carefully knocked on the door and opened it without waiting.

Inside, Hermione sat on the floor, her back to one of the damp walls, her knees pulled up.

Her face was blotchy from crying.

She looked up from the Marauder's Map that she was studying, a small pebble charmed with a wandless Lumos her only source of light.

"You found me quick." Her voice was still upset, and Harry felt his simmering anger heat up a few degrees.

"What happened?" he asked as he shut the door and went over to sit by her side. The cold wall made him shiver.

Hermione stared off into the empty room. "I don't know, Harry. I tried to explain it to him, answer his questions, but he was so angry and accused us of being completely out of our minds, I... " She sniffed. "I wanted to make him understand, but maybe I was the wrong person, since Ron and I still have this... issue with each other."

"He's snapped at me a few times as well," Harry added, trying to control his breath. "I explicitly asked him to not start anything today, so that we could talk."

Sensing how much Hermione blamed herself for Ron's sour mood, he hesitated only for another second before he reached out to grab her hand. She immediately threaded her fingers with his and seemed to calm down a bit.

"It wasn't your fault, Hermione."

"I know, but..." She looked at him, still upset. "I can't help but feel that you'd been able to salvage the situation. He would've listened to you instead of storming off."

Despite her lowered heartbeat, she was still fighting tears — Harry saw it in her eyes. The involuntary movements of her fingers that he felt also told him that her mind was still reeling from something, and he knew that Hermione was regularly upset about Ron, but not shocked like this. "What... he said something, didn't he?"

"Harry," she whispered.

"What was it?"

"It's not important. Leave it be."

He frowned. "No way, Hermione. You told me we're going to get through this, together. This is part of that, so... spill."

She looked away from him and almost removed her hand as well.

"Don't try and mince words now, Hermione." Harry was furious, imagining what sort of obscenities Ron might've thrown at her to make her this upset.

His dorm mate tended to get under her skin when they were fighting.

"He said..." She stopped. "He said that you and me... that we've nothing in common."

He shook his head. "What?" That didn't make sense, even as a statement coming from Ron. "How do you mean? How can we have nothing in common? We're in the same bloody House, and what about all the crazy things we've had to deal with over the years? As in, together? And now we're… Sentinel and Guide?"

Her breath hitched. "He didn't mean it like that," she mumbled, still not looking at him.

"Then what?" Harry genuinely didn't understand, and his enhanced senses didn't help him one bit to untangle her words. "Hermione?"

"It's nothing," she whispered.

Harry took a deep breath. "Why aren't you looking at me? Did I do something?"

She turned around immediately. "No, Harry, no! Of course not."

He fixed her with his most intense stare, trying to keep her from evading his questions. He knew his eyes had that effect on people, and since he'd stopped wearing his glasses all the time, the effect had only grown. "Then tell me, please."

Hermione stared back at him and a single tear rolled down her face. "He said we have nothing in common... romantically. That you might... fancy me, but that we... that the two of us... would never be..." She sniffed and left the sentence unfinished.

Harry took it all in, her emotional turmoil, the meaning of Ron's words, his anger, and where that left all of them right now.

He remembered their hug this morning. And the one in the Forbidden Forest.

It wasn't a question in his mind, not really.

Harry let go of her hand and leaned closer to wipe her tears away and cup the side of her head. Then he leaned closer, breathed in her scent, and put a soft kiss on her cheek. "That's just silly," he mumbled.

Hermione stared back, dumbstruck.

Then a tiny smile broke through her tense facade, and she grabbed his hand to thread their fingers again before leaning her head on his shoulder. "Can you cast that Hot Air Charm, please?" she whispered.

"Sure." He drew his wand with his left hand and enveloped both of them in an invisible warm blanket. "You shouldn't have gone to the dungeons. I mean... it's freezing down here."

"I think it's because this level is closer to the water," she said absently, rubbing his hand with her thumb.

Harry felt some of his anger ebb as if she was absorbing it — which she probably was, quite literally.

"So," he said, trying to change the topic. "Why were you looking at the map?"

Hermione picked up the Marauder's Map from the floor. "I needed something to focus on, and I wanted to see where you were." She shook the map to unfold it completely. "And Malfoy."

"Huh?" Harry hadn't thought much about his nemesis in the past... days? Which probably wasn't wise even if his suspicions turned out to be false, which he doubted at this point. "Did he vanish again?"

"Not today, but I've seen his name disappear from the map on the seventh floor," she explained. "He's using the Room of Requirements, just like you said. He's careful about going up there, though, I've seen him wander around the castle once or twice and get close to the seventh floor, only to walk away when other people were around."

Harry nodded, trying to see where Malfoy was on the map right now. "Yeah, he's doing that a lot. I'm not sure if his plan, whatever it is, is so dangerous that he tries to keep it a secret, or if he simply doesn't know what he's doing and wants to prevent being embarrassed."

"He didn't have a problem fighting with other Slytherins in prior years," Hermione reflected, deep in thought. "Which makes your first theory more likely." She pointed to Malfoy's name in the Library — close to the Restricted Section, where Harry hadn't bothered to look before. "But I'm not sure if that explains his rather haunted appearance as of late."

"Maybe his father is putting pressure on him?" Harry wagered. "I believe he's meeting with all sorts of Death Eaters, and they might've asked Draco to do something."

Hermione suddenly looked up and stared at him. "Harry... what if it's not just Death Eaters meeting at Draco's home?"

He realized what she was saying and felt a shiver crawling up and down his back. "You mean... Voldemort?"

"After everything we've learned over the years and the fact that the Malfoys are very rich and influential, wouldn't that be a rather obvious choice for him to stay?" Her fingers closed around Harry's. "Lucius participated in the Ministry attack, and he was there when Voldemort was resurrected."

Harry's mind was abuzz with thoughts and speculations. "If that's true, then maybe Malfoy is up to something really dangerous, Hermione. Not just his usual awful ways to make us miserable, but..."

"A Death Eater attack, here in the castle. Or something equally terrible," she whispered. "Yes."

The question remained as to what exactly this plan looked like, and why Draco needed the Room of Requirement for it to work. Thinking about the room, especially the lessons he'd supervised during the days of Dumbledore's Army, reminded Harry of something rather important, though.

"And if I'm right, Snape is also involved somehow, since he made that Unbreakable Vow... Hermione, we need to get you a new wand immediately," he said. "Maybe it'll still turn up, but I don't like the idea of you walking around unarmed until then. A wandless Lumos is impressive, but it won't help save your life."

"I know." She sighed. "I miss it terribly, but at the same time, I don't feel as exposed as I should be? It's strange... like when I went to the Prefect's Bathroom — I wasn't afraid at all."

"Maybe you can sense danger better now, as a Guide?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's possible. I did feel safe, but I'm not sure if I can summon that... sense or whatever it is on command. It came to me on its own."

"All the more reason to get you another wand," Harry thought about tomorrow. "Shall I ask Remus for help?"

"Actually... Professor McGonagall asked me yesterday if she should take me to Diagon Alley tomorrow and visit Mister Ollivander. She didn't say your name or anything about the Sentinel stuff, but I thought that she was rather nervous about what's going on with us right now."

Harry couldn't help but grunt. "At least one Professor who's doing something for us other than spying and speculating."

"You know, I can't even be cross with you for saying that," she said, slightly exasperated. "My fourteen-year-old self wouldn't believe any of this."

He smiled. "Even though she just woke up from being petrified by a basilisk and had to deal with an escaped mass murderer on the loose?"

"Back then, I still believed all these crazy events to be singular events, that things would slow down eventually." She leaned her head back onto his shoulder. "I'd give a lot to be able to go back to that."

Harry was inclined to agree, but he also knew he wouldn't give up their special connection for anything. And the world might've been a bit easier and a bit brighter at the start of his third year, but Hermione had just been a friend back then — one of his two best friends, but not... his Guide.

The most significant person in his life, period.

He put an arm around her as they enjoyed a moment of quiet in the empty room.

~.~.~.o.~.~.~

"They aren't going to be there, I'm telling you."

Neville wasn't convinced. "You heard Mike, he wasn't sure where he'd seen Harry, and Hermione often reads on one of the couches during weekends."

"Says you." Hannah panted slightly from going up the stairs again. "Why is your Common Room so high up, anyway? How do you people find the energy to do anything but sleep?"

He grinned at the Hufflepuff. "You're getting used to it."

"Unless he's snogging Lavender in some broom closet, won't we encounter Ron there?" Susan interjected. "He might not appreciate us snooping after Harry and Hermione."

"I'll... we'll see." Neville sounded unconvinced, though. "Normally, he's just angry at one of them and leaves the rest of us alone. We should be fine."

When they finally reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Hannah had almost regained her breath. Neville nodded to the Fat Lady and tried to remember the password, which of course had vanished from his mind again the moment he'd approached the portrait.

"Who are these two?" the Fat Lady asked.

"They... err... are friends of Harry Potter," he stuttered. "We're trying to find him."

"Good luck with that," she said, rolling her eyes. "He's not in, though."

"Figures," Susan mumbled. "What about Hermione?"

The portrait raised an eyebrow at Neville, who just nodded enthusiastically. "No idea, darling."

"Well, we're gonna have to take a look then. Matriarch."

"That's not the password."

"Malady?" He cringed, knowing he was wrong. Those damned passwords all sounded the same to him.

Susan and Hannah watched with amused interest.

"Do I need to call a prefect again?" The Fat Lady was visibly annoyed.

"Majestic!" Neville blurted, suddenly remembering the phrase from being told to him yesterday.

"It's not, but you may enter," the portrait said. " I'll have to change it again now, though, you do realize that?"

"Sure," he mumbled, waving the two Hufflepuffs in.

The girls had been here previously since most of the Gryffindor parties were open to friends from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff — although the Quidditch victory events tended to be mostly in-house for obvious reasons. Still, Hannah and Susan looked around the room like ickle firsties.

Meanwhile, Neville had seen Ginny at a table at the far end and walked up to her. "Ginny, do you... sorry, I didn't want to interrupt."

She looked up from a parchment that was full of some indecipherable doodles. "What's up, Neville?"

"We were hoping to find Hermione here. Do you know where she is?" He waved toward the other two girls who came over, causing a bit of a stir among the resident Gryffindors.

"Susan? Hannah? What are you guys doing here? Did something happen?" Ginny put her quill away.

"No, nothing like that..." Susan sighed. "We need to talk to Harry and Hermione, urgently. But they seem to have vanished."

"They do that a lot if you count the times they spent in the Hospital Wing." The youngest Weasley eyed the trio critically. "What's this about, really?"

"We can't say," Hannah whispered at the same time as Neville said, "It's about Harry's... abilities."

As a result, three rather stern pairs of eyes focused on him and he began to blush. "Well, it's not as if that's a secret anymore."

"That's true, but we..." But Ginny was interrupted by her brother, who just came down the stairs.

Ron dropped his Quidditch magazine on a nearby table as he approached. "What the heck is this? Hufflepuffs in the Common Room?"

"I invited them," Neville said. "We're looking for Harry and Hermione."

The tall redhead squared his jaw. "Don't waste your time with those two. And they're not around."

"Do you know where they are?" Susan asked.

"Not that it's any of your business, Bones, but no." Ron looked at the girls. "Don't you have your own Common Room to go to?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't you have someone else to bother?"

"Shuddup, Gin."

"Stop being a tosser."

"Where was Hermione when you guys split?" Neville knew he was playing with fire, but Susan had sounded very convincing in the lounge. He didn't like the idea that two of his friends were dealing with something serious alone while he and the rest of Hogwarts enjoyed a regular weekend where the worst thing happening was having to write a Potions essay for Monday.

"Why do you care, Neville? Do you fancy her now as well?" Ron sneered.

"What? No, I..."

Susan looked at Ginny. "Is he always like that?"

"Yeah. Sometimes I think he was dropped as a child," she mumbled.

"Hey, I heard that!" Ron shouted.

"Stop making such a fuss. Go and bother Lav-Lav or something."

Neville tried to get back on topic. "Ron, please, we need to talk to Hermione, can you just..."

"I said it's none of your business!" And before anyone could react, Neville found himself being shoved away so hard that he fell. "Stop pestering me about that insufferable Know-It-All! You guys are all mental!"

But as Ron turned around to throw more barbs at his sister and the Hufflepuffs, Susan's fist connected with his jaw. Dazed, the tall redhead fell into a chair and then onto the floor like a sack of potatoes.

"If you attack my friends again, I'll give you a real thrashing, you stupid git." Susan blew a strand of hair from her face and looked around at the astonished faces around her. "What? He started it!"

"You're right," Ginny said grimly as she looked at her brother. "And I'll cherish this moment for as long as I live. But let's get out of here, he'll be even more insufferable once he's managing to stand and breathe at the same time again."

They walked around Neville's roommate as he stood up gingerly, holding the side of his face. "What the hell, Bones! You hit me!"

"Stop crying, you deserved it," Ginny spat.

As they walked back to the entrance, leaving a very angry Ron behind, Hannah touched Neville's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"It's nothing."

"Okay." She looked up as they passed a section of the wall where dozens of woolen threads connected a chaotic assembly of notes and sketches. "What is that, by the way, and why does it feature our names?"

Neville blushed again. "Err... that is a long story."

"Maybe you can explain on the way out," Susan added.

None of them saw how Jimmy Peakes removed a random note from the wall to write Susan's name on the empty spot, or how Raza Mohammad and Rionach O'Neal connected her entry with Neville and Ron as another new addition to the relationship map while the rest of the Common Room gossiped about the hilarious knock-out of Gryffindor's resident Keeper by a Hufflepuff girl.

Ron wasn't seen again until dinner, much to Lavender's disapproval.

~.~.~.o.~.~.~

Even from a distance, Hogwarts proved to be a rather nostalgic, Charlie decided.

He was on the prowl again, probing the strange aura that'd told Remus that this place was... off limits. It extended all the way to the edge of the school's grounds, even beyond. It pushed against him and made him very self-aware, but it was still manageable — he wouldn't want to camp here without some serious warding against this effect, though.

As a student, he'd have cursed the cold drizzle that came down from the overcast sky, but right now he actually preferred the bad weather. It would keep students from swarming the Hogwarts grounds to play Quidditch or snog behind some bushes, meanwhile, a sturdy cloak and a simple Impervious Charm allowed him to conduct his investigation completely undisturbed.

He cast a few diagnostic spells as he made his way along the edge of Hogwarts' border.

If Harry still hadn't fully awoken as a Sentinel, this aura was... almost more frightening than amazing. It felt too strong, considering the two other claimed spaces Charlie had entered in his life. One by a Sentinel much older than Harry, and the other one had been a werewolf lair, at least four generations in use. Nothing had ever pushed against him like this metaphysical signature did just now.

As he continued his probing, Charlie wondered what Albus was doing, and how the rift between Remus and the Headmaster had begun. His own family was considered to be fervent supporters of the Chief Warlock, but Charlie knew the old man had always loved his secrets — his own time at the school hadn't featured life-threatening adventures of the kind Harry and his little brother were having annually, but there'd been plenty of mysteries and shenanigans still.

He was hoping to talk to Ron and Ginny eventually, to gain a few more insights into what was actually going on inside the castle and how that Sentinel business was being handled. Maybe he should write them a letter tomorrow when Remus and Harry would be out to have lunch?

Charlie stopped waving his wand when he noticed another sentient creature somewhere in his proximity.

He scanned the surrounding bushes.

A few birds were chirping in a tree in the distance, but that wasn't what he'd felt.

He relaxed as he saw a cat staring at him from the shadows of a holly bush. "You scared me, little one," he mumbled, already turning away when he felt something else.

That wasn't a normal cat.

But the moment Charlie focused on the tiny animal again, it was already shifting — into the form of his former Head of House. Professor McGonagall aimed her wand at his face as he gave her the most intimidating stare. "Who are you and what are you doing on the Hogwarts grounds?" she asked.

"Minerva, it's me." Slowly, he removed the hood of his cloak. "Charlie."

McGonagall lowered her wand slightly, but not completely. "What did I tell you during your final year when you served detention with me?"

He remembered that day well. "To never poke someone just because they appear to be harmless and weak, and to not be such a bloody Gryffindor all the time."

The older woman relaxed visibly and approached him. "Thank you, Charlie. Now, my question remains. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here on behalf of Remus."

McGonagall looked at the castle in the distance. "Is this related to Mister Potter's current... situation?"

"Yes, I'm here because we think we can help Harry, and also Hermione. Remus isn't exactly happy with the way this Sentinel problem is being dealt with." He was careful with his words on purpose because even though his old Head of House had offered Remus her help, he couldn't remember a time when she didn't stand directly behind Albus, no matter what decisions he was making.

"He's not alone in that regard." McGonagall cast her own Impervious Charm now. "Is that the reason you're sneaking about the grounds instead of asking to see Albus, or me, for tea inside?"

Charlie nodded. "I'm trying to get a feel for the strange aura that Harry's created — subconsciously. He probably doesn't even know it's there at the moment."

"I've been told about it, but I can't feel anything myself, apart from being a bit nervous and on edge lately," McGonagall. "What does it tell you, Charlie?"

"That something's off." He shook his head. "It's way too strong, Minerva. Harry's powerful, no doubt, but he's not even awoken yet. There's no way his claim is this powerful, not without external influences. So either Hogwarts itself is reacting to his presence, or something within it is."

"What about Miss Granger? She's clearly involved, against her will, I might add." McGonagall was clearly concerned. "Her very touch can now soothe Mister Potter's pain when he has one of these... migraines. And I'm sure that her presence also influences his hypersensitivity."

"Beautiful girls tend to have that effect," Charlie joked, unable to stop himself.

"This is no laughing matter, Charlie!" She looked exasperated. "And I'm not talking about a simple teenage romance here. They care a lot for each other, but their connection is entirely different from what the majority of students experience between broom closets and their own dorms."

"Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it." He made a placating gesture. "Is there any way for me to see both of them and get a better feeling for what level of power and awakening we're talking about here?"

Minerva shook her head. "Not without Albus noticing, and as much as I dislike the way he's been handling all of this so far, I won't go behind his back and smuggle you into the castle. He had a talk with Mister Potter today, and I don't know how that went, but maybe he'll take on a more proactive and protective role now. I'll see Albus later this evening, and I intend to raise this issue again." She looked at Charlie. "Until he gives me reason to fear for Mister Potter's and Miss Granger's well-being, my hands are tied. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Charlie stepped closer to her. "I'm uncomfortable about all this sneaking around as it is, and I wouldn't want to drive a wedge between you and Albus. You're friends."

"If you plan to continue this surveillance of the castle, I'd advise you to be more discreet, though, Charlie. I saw you from my window, and I'm not the only person to look outside during a day like this." She smirked a bit. "I'm sure Filius would be devastated to learn that you've forgotten all about Disillusionment Charms."

Charlie blushed slightly. "They interfere with my ability to read the environment."

"I wasn't aware that Guides are sensible that way, I'm sorry."

He winced as he heard the role name spoken in reference to himself, but Minerva knew almost nothing about how he'd almost died of heartache and the reasons why he'd fled Britain in the aftermath. "We don't advertise the fact, for obvious reasons."

She was looking at him curiously now.

"What? Did you remember something?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. If you're interested in seeing Miss Granger, I'm accompanying her to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get her a new wand. If she's agreeable to the idea of a meeting, I think that could be arranged?"

Charlie thought about it. He'd kept his distance from other Guides for a good reason, but he knew that wasn't a real long-term solution. Also, he'd promised Remus to help Harry, which now involved Hermione as well. And he liked the girl, remembering her from previous stays over Christmas or the Triwizard Tournament.

So he would have to swallow his pride, hide his anger, and open his senses to how far she was right now. Maybe even answer a few questions, which she probably had by the dozen.

He sighed. "A meeting would be great if she's open to the idea. Tell her I might be able to help explain some of the things they're experiencing, her in particular."

Minerva smiled at him. "I was hoping you'd say that, Charlie. Maybe it'll help you as well, lighten the burden I still see on your shoulders." She patted his chest slightly. "Despite being such a Gryffindor at times, you were one of my favorite students. And easily the most level-headed Weasley to ever sit in my classroom."

"I thought that'd be Percy?"

"Please." She grimaced. "He believed so religiously in the letter of rules that he failed to notice they have a spirit as well. Your brother was wound tighter than some of Slytherin's snakes."

"Minerva!" Charlie sputtered.

"If you tell Molly that, I'll deny ever saying it, and I will tell people about that incident with Miss Tonks and yourself in the Clock Tower." There was that tiny smirk again as she regarded him.

"Please, there's no reason to ever mention that... event ever again. My lips are sealed." If that story ever came out, he'd be dead. Tonks would use necromancy to kill him twice, at least.

"Good. Now, how can I reach you in case Miss Granger accepts my proposal?"