Author's notes: First of all, I am not sure if I have ever specified this, but my layout of the Hospital Wing is not based on its appearance in the movies but more so how it was described in the books and, perhaps to a larger degree, how it appeared in the Harry Potter games for the Game Boy Color, in which I logged probably several thousand hours. Yes, I know I just dated myself. In those depictions, Madam Pomfrey's office is located at the far end of the ward from the entrance, instead of somewhere off to the side. Second, I will be going into the details of Heather's transition this chapter. I hope that you will accept any differences between her process and the muggle one as literary license explained away quite simply as 'Magic.' Thank you.
As always, Harry Potter and the Wizarding World belong to J.K. Rowling. Please leave them very well alone. We do not need a television series, in this author's personal opinion anyway.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Breakfast the next morning at the Gryffindor table was interrupted by the usual arrival of the mail. Hundreds of owls soared overhead, dropping packages and letter to their recipients before flying to the owlery for food and a rest. Heather barely noticed this. She had no expectation of any mail yet, mostly because she had very few people to write to anymore. It having only been a week since they left the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley would hardly have anything new to say and she doubted that Ron would ever actually remember to write. At best he would sit down to write a letter, become distracted or not know what to say, tell himself he would get back to it eventually, and then forget it until he saw Heather in Hogsmeade. It was very much the same way he had dealt with homework. No, the only letter she even half hoped to get was from Andromeda with updates on Teddy, but even that had not come yet.
"Umm, Heather?" said Dean, distracting her from choosing the best pieces of bacon from a nearby platter.
To her surprise, not one but two owls had landed next to her plate, almost upsetting her cup of pumpkin juice as they jostled for position. With fumbling fingers, Heather relieved both of them of their burdens and watched as they took flight before examining the letters. The top envelope bore an untidy scrawl she would recognize anywhere. Without another thought she tore it open and began to read.
Heather,
I know you haven't got any mail so far, so I thought I'd send you a letter instead of asking in person. Thought it might boost your spirits. How about coming down for tea tomorrow afternoon. We can catch up and you can tell me all about your first week back. Bring Hermione and Ginny, it'd be good to see them too.
Hagrid.
Setting this aside while at the same time excited at the idea, Heather examined the second letter. It was wrapped in the thick, yellow parchment Hogwarts always used and tightly sealed. Wondering if she had done something to warrant a written reprimand, she cautiously broke the seal and extracted the relatively small note inside.
Miss Potter,
In order to ensure that your potions are having no negative effects on your health and their progress is proceeding correctly, I would like you to drop by the Hospital Wing today at your earliest convenience for an examination. It should require no more than half an hour.
Madam Pomfrey
"What's up?" asked Hermione, who then leaned over to read the letter past Heather's shoulder. "Well that certainly makes sense," she said.
Jumping a little, she folded the letter and asked, feeling suddenly heated, " Do you ever think about giving me some privacy?"
"Why should she," asked Ginny, snatching up Hagrid's letter and reading it in a few seconds. When she was done she held out her hand for the one Heather was still clutching.
With a grunt, Heather handed it over. There was no real reason she needed to keep anything a secret. Still, it would be nice if her friends respected at least some form of boundary. "I hate you both," she grumbled, returning to the stack of bacon.
"No, you don't" Hermione said sweetly, who took both letters from Ginny when she had finished with them.
After a morning of classes, during which the impending examination with Madam Pomfrey weighed heavily on her mind, Heather broke off from the rest of her class and climbed the stairs rather then head down to the Great Hall. The brilliant white of fresh bed sheets reflecting the midday sun greeted her as she strode down the long aisle of the Hospital Wing. The ward was empty with the exception of one girl sitting on the bed closest to Madam Pomfrey's office. Heather was halfway down the ward when she realized it was Lavender. Her shoulder had been released from its sling and hung limply in its socket, looking almost like it was lifeless.
When Heather reached the last bed and Lavender caught sight of her, she drew up short and looked pointedly away. Heather ignored this, leaning against the opposite bed and waiting for the matron to appear. She had no intention of risking an altercation here.
Ever since Lavender's feelings about her had become known, Heather had given in to her request and an uneasy truce now hung around all four occupants of their dormitory. As long as Lavender was there, Heather would stay out unless either Hermione or Pavarti were also present. It was inconvenient at times, particularly when Heather wanted to retreat from the view of the rest of the castle, but she stuck to it, more out of pity than anything else. Even Pavarti had been unable to get any movement out of her friend on the subject.
From what she and Hermione had seen in passing glances, Lavender had not improved much during the last week. Even four months after her mauling by Greyback, the physical wounds refused to heal. Hermione had been the first to ask Pavarti while Lavender was showering for information. The only thing Pavarti would tell them was that there was something Greyback had done to his claws and teeth before the battle that would prolong the suffering of anyone he got to. St. Mungo's had made some progress, and Madam Pomfrey was continuing to, but it would be a slow recovery. Having experienced the foul werewolf herself, Heather was naturally horrified, if not overly surprised. With this in mind however, she did soften somewhat towards Lavender.
Madam Pomfrey returned from her office and immediately caught sight of Heather waiting. "Ahh, yes. Take a seat over there, Potter."
Heather sat. She felt her gaze being slowly drawn around to Lavender, primarily out of a lack of anything else to really look at. The brunette witch continued to ignore her as she had for days now and responded with one or two word answers to Madam Pomfrey's questions. Finally satisfied, though clearly not entirely pleased with what she saw, the matron rewrapped Lavender's shoulder and sent her on her way with a few bottles of different colored potions. Walking as quickly as she could, Lavender limped up the ward and disappeared through the open doors.
"Poor girl," muttered Madam Pomfrey as she approached Heather. A wave of her wand summoned the white privacy curtains around them.
"Is she going to be ok?" asked Heather as she stood.
Madam Pomfrey's hands found her wrist and held it tight. "Only time will tell," she replied somberly after a minute had passed. "I hope that beast is burning somewhere for what he did to her," she added in a darker tone than Heather had ever heard her use before. Recovering herself, she said. "Well now, Potter. Let's talk about you, shall we?" She stared hard at Heather's face as though looking for some fault before stepping back to run a keen eye over the rest of her. "Have you been properly taking your potions since I last saw you?"
"Once a week," Heather replied.
Madam Pomfrey nodded, continuing her visual examination. "I've already started working on the next batch. It should be ready by Tuesday. Whenever you run out of your current supply, I will begin administering each dose you to weekly rather than you keeping up with them yourself. Please, disrobe."
Heather's cheeks went pink. The matron noticed and sighed. "Oh dear goodness, girl. Must we really go through this every time? There is nothing under there that I have not seen many times now. You may keep your underwear on if that will soothe your modesty."
Still feeling embarrassed, Heather removed her uniform sweater, shirt, and skirt, laying each of them carefully on the bed behind her. There was no doubt that standing there in just a bra, tights, and knickers felt very peculiar. Ignoring Heather's discomfort as she always did, Madam Pomfrey continued her work. "Well, it appears your wounds from the Battle are all nicely healed, not to mention any you picked up during the summer's…adventures. The team at St. Mungo's did a good job with you."
"Err, right." Heather said just to have some reply to that.
Madam Pomfrey sent her an exasperated look. "You know, Potter. The last time we talked I know I said that you were never going to have a quiet life, but still. Becoming an auror was not the path I expected you to take. Personally, I was hoping you would pursue something a bit less likely to wind up with you back in the hospital."
Rather than try and come up with an answer, Heather allowed the remark to be left unchallenged. It wasn't exactly like she'd planned to constantly end up injured. If things had gone her way, then she hopefully would never have come to know this room as well as she did. After all, her many adventures, and their resultant wounds, had rarely been her idea in the first place.
"You may dress," Madam Pomfrey said at last, finished checking Heather over. While Heather put her clothes back on, the matron vanished through the curtains. When her robes were back in place, the privacy screens vanished and Heather saw that she and Madam Pomfrey were not alone any longer. Two students, both girls, were standing a few feet away. They wore the green lined robes of Slytherin and Heather guessed that they were probably in their third or fourth year. Madam Pomfrey was busy dabbing the arm of the shorter girl with thick, purple paste. The arm was burned from wrist to elbow and the girl continuously winced in pain. When the paste had been applied, Madam Pomfrey wrapped it in this gauze and sent them both on their way. She watched their progress back up the ward and Heather saw her brow furrow in concern. "Curious," Madam Pomfrey said to herself.
She shook herself and turned back to Heather. "Right, where were we. Of course, we have a few matters to discuss, young lady."
"Such as?" Heather prompted as the matron's attention drifted momentarily away again.
"Sorry, yes. It's just curious. In any case, you should be happy to know that your potions are doing a very good job of transforming your body to the correct gender."
Warmth flooded Heather's chest. She had been half expecting bad news the way Madam Pomfrey was acting. "I sort of figured," she chuckled, looking down at the very obvious changes her body had gone through since her last exam.
"Yes, they've done a good job catching you back up." Madam Pomfrey smiled at her. "I believe you have now completely restored any reversions your body might have experienced due to your infrequent dosage last year."
Heather tilted her head in confusion. "What revisions? I don't remember changing back at all, if anything the changes were still happening while I was on the run."
"Perhaps they did. As I said, all appears well." Madam Pomfrey replied soothingly.
"But…you said after the Battle that there was no damage from not taking them," Heather said, trying to keep her voice level now as cold worry raced through her veins.
Madam Pomfrey sighed. "And so there weren't. Understand, Potter, this is still a fairly unknown subject to me. There is very little documentation on this process, so much of what I have to go on is the evidence of my eyes. I still do not believe that you suffered any damage from not taking your potions regularly. What I mean is that I believe your body began to revert, internally if not visibly, back into your original gender during that time."
Heather, still confused, pressed on. "Then why did I keep transitioning?"
The matron looked uncertain. "Perhaps it took some time for the internal effects to become outwardly visible. It could be that your infrequent doses were enough to 'keep the ball rolling,' as it were. As I said, you and I are both going through this for the first time. This does not change what I said, you are in good health and your progress is clearly moving forward."
"So then," Heather asked slowly, "what happens next?"
Madam Pomfrey ran another look over Heather before replying. "Judging by what I see here, you appear to be as developed as any other girl your age. Your breasts are certainly within the size range I would expect and your body has clearly redistributed itself properly in every other aspect I can see."
Heather's cheeks were pink again. There was one part of her that hadn't changed at all, other than perhaps becoming smaller. But the thought of asking Madam Pomfrey about that was beyond her current capability.
"I would assume based on your face that you are wondering about that last bit of your old gender that has, so far, remained…present, shall we say?"
Heather nodded, trying and failing to stop her cheeks from continuing to flame. She turned around to ensure that they were still alone in the Hospital Wing. They were. Turning back she caught the last second of the matron's barely restrained eye roll.
"I understand that this is a sensitive subject for you, Potter." Madam Pomfrey said, her voice filled with a thin but knowing patience. Perhaps it was to spare Heather's already fraying nerves that she kept her description less technical than she might have otherwise. "However, I must be completely clear on this matter. Over the rest of this year your body will be going through the last parts of this change, including the rearrangement of your remaining male feature. I trust you understand what I am trying to say." She arched an eyebrow.
"Yes, I do. Hermione warned me that would happen before I even started taking the potion." Heather replied quickly.
"Very good," said Madam Pomfrey. "When that change takes place we will know that you have completed the process. It is also the point when this becomes permanent. I must warn you, Potter. This process will most likely be uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. I would not be surprised in the slightest if it were also painful."
Heather gulped, mostly out excitement but with a lingering sense of dread. "Thanks for the reassurance," she suggested. The attempt at a joke fell flat.
"Unlike Polyjuice potion that changes such features instantly, not to mention painlessly, this process will be quite different. Polyjuice merely masks the original form, it does not actually alter it. In addition, the original inventor of the potion concocted it to be as painless as possible." Madam Pomfrey pressed on, looking stern.
Remembering the sensation of bubbles boiling under her skin, Heather interjected. "That doesn't stop it from being uncomfortable."
Madam Pomfrey shrugged. "Perhaps, but it doesn't hurt and that's what I was saying, it only covers the drinker's underlying form instead of modifying it. That's why it wears off so quickly and leaves no lasting effects. It is also one of the reasons its effects can be detected and seen through by certain magical objects."
Which is why the map can see through it, Heather thought, remembering watching Barty Crouch ransacking Snape's office during the Triwizard Tournament. This also explained why the Thieves' Downfall in Gringotts had wiped away the changes Hermione had made to Ron's face and Heather's polyjuice disguise as Bellatrix, but hadn't touched her feminine features.
"Your potion is permanent. It is quite literally rewriting your body from the inside out, leaving little to nothing unchanged. That takes time and a good deal of magical power to do. I think that's why that last part hasn't begun yet, even with you having been on them full time for a few months now."
"What do you mean," Heather asked, her mind snapping back from lying on the forest floor while Voldemort trying to transfigure her to look like a boy.
"I mean," replied Madam Pomfrey, clearly a little frustrated that Heather was not hanging on her every word, "that the interruption of your doses did have a very short-term effect after all, though I do not think it was a harmful one. You were taking half doses for a year before you went on the run, correct?"
"Yes. Hermione said that would cut down on the time it would take to finish the process once I started taking them full time."
"And it would have," Madam Pomfrey said quickly. "But that year of not taking them, more or less, robbed you of a lot of that internal progress. If you had been able to continue taking them, even at a half dose, then the last four months would probably have been enough to finish the process. As I said, it takes a good deal of magic to permanently overcome someone's original form, even when their internal magic is aiding the change. At its most basic level, what this potion does is to build up a magical force inside your body that is used for a single purpose. That is, to transform your body into that of a girl. Each dose you take replenishes and builds up that force, allowing it to work and make those changes to your body. Over time the easier, less complicated and less permanent adjustments take place, even as the magic inside you continues to grow.
"By easier changes you mean these?" Heather asked, jutting her chin downwards at her chest.
"Precisely. As those changes are completed, and I believe we can say that yours are for the most part, the potion is now building up that magical force to a point where it can affect that final transformation and complete the job. When it gets reaches that point, I believe the process will happen quickly, though perhaps not as quickly as you might want it to," she added dryly.
Fear and excitement were battling for dominance in Heather's gut. "Do you know when that will start?" she asked.
Madam Pomfrey thought for a moment. "I would say any time in the next few months. Certainly before the end of the school year if I had to guess. I suspect that when it begins it will do so without much warning. Every week when I administer your dose I will be examining you for any sign that it has started, and I will require you to keep me informed if anything happens between your appointments. This is not something that either of us want going wrong."
Heather allowed that understatement to go unchallenged. "What do we do when it starts?"
"We shall have to take it one step at a time. I might require you to temporarily stay here where I can keep you under observation, or the symptoms might be mild enough that you can remain in your dormitory. We will only find out once the process actually begins."
"Erm, right. Sounds like fun," Heather replied doubtfully. Her head felt very full.
Madam Pomfrey glanced up and saw another student walking into the ward, his head having grown to twice its size and turning a respectable shade of puce. "Now Potter, unless you have any further questions, you may be on your way." The matron said, immediately sweeping towards the student without a backwards look for Heather. Under cover of this distraction, Heather slipped quietly out of the Hospital Wing.
The thought of this upcoming change kept Heather preoccupied during her afternoon Potions lesson. She was still mulling it over in the back of her mind as she, Hermione, and Ginny left the castle the following afternoon and strolled down the grounds towards Hagrid's cabin. She hadn't told either of them most of the details beyond "She said I'm healthy and everything is going ok." It was obvious that at some point she would need to tell them everything, but for now it was a lot like everything else on her mind, best kept to herself until she decided how she felt about it.
From a distance they saw Hagrid busy working in his garden while talking to Grawp, who was sitting carefully on the stone wall. Buckbeak was nowhere to be seen. As they got nearer they saw that Grawp's head, which from a ways off looked slightly deformed, only looked that way because he was wearing an oddly shaped hat. It was made of leather and badly stitched together, and he wore it at an angle so it completely covered his left eye. Heather assumed he must have lost it in the last stages of the Battle. She had to admit that it gave him something of a comical air that his overall size did not entirely override.
Perhaps hearing their approach, Grawp caught sight of them and leapt to his feet. "Hermy!" he roared. With loud, thudding footsteps that made Heather's teeth hurt, he raced around the outside of the wall towards them.
"Grawp, no! Remember what I taught yeh!" shouted Hagrid. Grawp stopped in his tracks, looked around at Hagrid then back at Hermione. To all of their surprise, Grawp covered the rest of the distance in slow, easygoing steps, stopping several feet away. Rather than reach out to scoop up Hermione, who had always been his favorite, he extended his arm gently, holding out his hand palm upwards.
Looking more than a little nervous, Hermione placed her hand on one of his massive fingers. The giant's hand moved up and down in the semblance of a handshake. "Umm, it's nice to see you, Grawp." Hermione said.
"Pees teh see ewww, Hermy" he drawled before offering his hand in turn to Heather and Ginny. Ginny's name he managed well enough but Heather's came out as "Hererr," with a drawn out 'err' sound at the end.
"Good enough," Heather smiled up at the giant, who was looking extremely pleased with himself. She wasn't sure if Grawp recognized her like this or not, but he didn't seem to care. He liked having new friends, particularly ones he could easily pick up.
"Good boy, Grawpy," said Hagrid, coming into view around his half brother's tree trunk sized leg. "That's enough, if yeh want yeh can sit at the window while we have tea. C'mon in," he said now to the girls, leading them into his cabin. Fang was on them the moment the door was opened. Hermione and Heather had been prepared for this after long experience. Ginny had not. With a leap the boarhound was on her, taking her halfway to the ground with him as he fell. "Fang, gerroff her!" cried Hagrid over all Heather and Hermione's laughter. Once she recovered enough of her wits to realize what was happening, even Ginny laughed too as she tried to pet the gigantic dog.
When Fang had been properly greeted and was happily drooling into Heather's lap, Hagrid laid out four massive mugs and an equally large kettle and poured their tea. "Been lookin' forward to this all week," he said happily, now dishing out a few cakes. He tossed one out the open window into Grawp's waiting mouth. Grawp munched happily, humming contentedly to himself.
"Did you teach him that, Hagrid?" Heather asked, "How to shake hands?"
"I did," Hagrid beamed proudly. "Taugh' that to him last year. Before we had to go on the lam, that is."
"Didn't you throw a 'Support Me' party here or something," asked Heather.
"Well what else was I supposed to do? Had to show those dammed Carrows a thing or two, didn't I?"
"It was a real blow, losing you here," Ginny added. "But I will admit, we all admired your nerve Hagrid."
A tear formed in Hagrid's beady black eyes as he looked at all three of them. To cover this, Heather took a large bite out of the cake in front of her and accidentally tried to swallow too much. If Hagrid's cooking had not improved over the years, she might never have been able to breathe again. As it was, by the time she was done choking the moment had passed.
"Now, tell me all about yer first week," Hagrid said eagerly, refilling each of their mugs eagerly.
As there was not much worth telling in her opinion, Heather allowed Hermione and Ginny to do most of the talking. This kept her from having to wade into the Professor Brindlemore debate all over again.
"She certainly seems keen on the job," interposed Hagrid when Hermione paused long enough to take a breath. "Been down here three times a'ready askin' about what creatures I can lay me hands on to use in classes."
"Be that as it may, she is still not actually teaching us anything," protested Hermione stiffly.
"She's a right sight better than some that've come through this place," Hagrid asserted, backed up by silent assent from Heather and Ginny. "C'mon, Hermione. D'you realize what it mus' be like for her? She comes in here and on her firs' day gets told, 'Yer gonna be teaching Heather Potter, Hermione Granger, and abou' a dozen other witches and wizards who could hex yer pants off without breakin' a sweat.' The fact that she took the post is amazing, so why not give her some slack? Alrigh'?"
Hermione looked thoughtful then, perhaps without even realizing it, jerked her head in what could generously be described as a nod.
"By the way, Heather, I got something to give yeh," Hagrid said, changing the subject. From his sideboard he retrieved a piece of parchment. "These are the students tha' signed up fer quidditch tryouts."
Seventeen names were listed. A few of them, like Ginny, were former players, while some towards the bottom she didn't recognize. Whatever the reason, the list was much shorter than it had been the last time she'd been captain. She folded the paper up and stuffed it in a pocket hoping fervently there would be fewer giggling girls this time around. With so few names tryouts might be over by lunch.
"Look like a good team this year?" Hagrid asked.
Heather shrugged. "A few good names for sure." She relaxed back into her chair and observed the many items hanging above their heads. Her tension felt as though it were seeping into the wooden back, temporarily leaving her with enough peace to worry about something as mundane as quidditch. Suddenly, feeling emboldened in this relaxed atmosphere, she added as an afterthought, "I'm not so sure about this Weasley girl, though. If she's anything like her brother-"
Ginny's cat like shriek of indignation was cut off by Hagrid's loud laugh that made several items overhead flutter. Outside the window Grawp grumbled at the noise. "Now, Heather. Tha's not fair to Ron and yeh know it," Hagrid chided with a wagging finger.
"I suppose you're right. It is an insult to Ron to compare them," Heather grinned maliciously across the table at Ginny who let out another loud shriek. She was feeling the best she had all week and this was her chance for some payback. She wasn't going to back down.
"You really want to start this, Potter?" Ginny asked dangerously. Good natured banter or not, out of the corner of Heather's eyes she saw Hermione slide her chair about a foot back from the table. Hermione knew when to be out of the line of fire and, going by the sparks flaring out of Ginny's eyes, this was going to be a bonfire.
"I'm just saying, with you on the team or not I'm just not seeing many opportunities for Gryffindor to sing 'Weasley is our king this year," Heather continued airily, shrugging.
Ginny looked ready to spit venom. "At least I'm not so blind I can barely see the snitch," she taunted, pantomiming Heather's large glasses that she still wore.
"Aww," Hagrid groaned with a chuckle. "Tha's a low blow too, Ginny. C'mon now."
Ginny's smirk didn't phase Heather, at least not until she pressed her attack. "Maybe, but we all know that Heather is blind in one, big, broad, brown haired way."
Hagrid was now looking back and forth between them curiously. "Wha's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Ginny said before Heather cut her off, "that Heather likes a boy badly enough that anyone with half a brain can see it, but she can't figure it out."
Hermione let out a long sigh and rested her head in her hands. "I thought you were going to give that a break, Ginny. We talked about it."
"I was, but then Heather had to go and try her luck," Ginny replied indignantly. "You've said it too, don't try and deny it."
Heather's mouthful of tea spluttered out across half the table. Coughing, she watched Hermione's face turn pink. "I mean," Hermione said cautiously, "it is a bit noticeable."
"A bit notice-" Ginny started before Hagrid cut across her.
"And jus' what boy might this be?" he asked Ginny and Hermione while using one of his massive arms to fill Heather's mug while at the same time blocking her from the conversation.
This effective shield allowed Ginny to crow with glee before Hermione could stop her, "Neville Longbottom."
"Ahh, yer could do worse, Heather," Hagrid said happily, leaning back and allowing her to rejoin the group. Even as her insides wavered between betrayal and wanting revenge, Heather could sense Hagrid's enjoyment at being a part of this gossip.
"And it's not like he hasn't liked you for ages," Ginny supplied. The second after this crossed her lips, her mouth snapped shut and the color drained her face as though she had been petrified.
"Ginny!" Hermione hissed. "You weren't supposed to tell her that!"
Staring Ginny down, Heather asked quietly, "What do you mean, tell me what?"
"Yeah, tell 'er what," added Hagrid at the same time, his hand gripping tightly to his mug in anticipation.
Still looking pale, Ginny swallowed once before mumbling, "He may have liked you for a while now."
"And just how long is a while?" Heather asked, arching an eyebrow at her before looking over at Hermione. The fact that both of her friends had been keeping this from her was upsetting her, but she was determined to get all the answers to her questions at last.
"Fifth year," Hermione said quietly while Ginny continued staring at her knees.
Heather's jaw hit the floor. "You're kidding," she replied weakly. "Wait, when did you find out?" she asked Hermione.
Ginny had evidently made an internal decision to leave this to Hermione, a prospect Hermione did not relish. Sighing, she said, "He told Ginny last year. She told me after we saw you two dancing together." Turning a withering glare on Ginny she added, "any time to want to contribute some more here would be appreciated."
When Ginny looked up she still looked a bit pale. When Heather continued to glower, she mumbled, "Well, its like this. He's about as good at hiding how he feels as you are, unless you're blind to it that is." Her attempt at a joke faltered as Heather considered if she really was stupid or just blind. After a few halfhearted chuckles, Ginny continued, "It was little things at first. He'd keep bringing you up when we were making our plans to restart Dumbledore's Army or get back at the Carrows. He would say things like 'We've got to make Harry proud.' He didn't know your real name then, and I didn't tell him," she added quickly, "but it didn't take long to figure out how he felt."
"But…did he ever actually say so to you," Heather asked as though this fact somehow mattered a great deal. Neville had already told her he did. It was still the best question her mind could come up with, so she went with it.
"Yeah, he did." Ginny replied. "It was January, I think, maybe February. We'd already lost Luna before Christmas but that wasn't stopping us. The Carrows and their Slytherin cronies were closing in on us, this was before Neville created the base in the Room of Requirement. We were hiding together behind a statue on the fourth floor waiting to ambush some of them when he told me."
"How can I have been that blind?" Heather asked no one in particular, staring past Grawp's boulder like head.
"Ahh, Heather. Sometimes we can't see what's right in front o' us." Hagrid said sagely with a slow nod. Outside the window Grawp mimicked the motion and grumbled softly to himself.
"I really shouldn't have told you that," Ginny muttered, hanging her head a little. "He'll kill me if he found out."
Sighing again, Hermione spoke up. "You may as well tell her the rest of it."
"Wha' else could there be?" asked Hagrid across Heather's squawk.
She shot him a look evenly split between incredulity and irritation. "Ginny?"
Ginny had barely recovered from the last round and now had locked her eyes on a knot in the wooden table. Barely moving her lips she half whispered, "I sort of gave him some advice. About what to do."
"Like, how to ask me out? You two were in the middle of a war and you spent time worrying about romance?" Heather asked, hardly registering the amazement in her voice.
"Well, we had to have some hope to live for," Ginny replied evenly. "Besides, it was nice to have something other than ambushes and raids on the dungeons to talk about."
"She's right, Heather," said Hagrid, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Yeh didn't see how it was here. We all needed hope that yeh were comin' back."
"I was always coming back, one way or another," Heather said quietly as the implications of everything Ginny had said washed over her. She, Heather, had been almost like a talisman to them. One that they had used to ward off the terror of the enemy, even if just for a few minutes at a time. Hadn't she been told this already by countless others? So why was it affecting her so much now? What did it matter that it had been the same for Neville?
She saw Ginny sitting there, her eyes dark and lost to pain and memory. "I never doubted it. Listen, I know things were bad for you both," Ginny said, her voice sounding hollow and far away. "You were doing what you needed to do. But so were we. It was war, Heather. We all did things we wish we hadn't." Shaking herself back from whatever dark vision she'd been seeing, she blinked a few times before continuing. "And we held onto what little hope we had. Like it or not, that was you."
A darkness lingered on her features that stopped Heather from speculating on just what Ginny had been holding on to. That question could wait, if it even needed to be asked at all. "So, are you still giving him advice?" she asked, changing tacks quickly.
Going off the spectacular shade of pink that flourished across Ginny's cheek, Heather already had her answers. "You are?" she cried, no longer bothering with such trivial feelings as exasperation. With a low groan she asked, "please tell me you weren't the one to suggest he ask me to dance at the Order of Merlin ceremony?
Hermione, taking pity on Ginny, countered with "Well, if she did are you complaining?"
Was it her or was this cabin suddenly extremely warm? "No…I mean, she shouldn't have…I mean, ugh!" The last noise came out as a disgruntled huff that convinced no one.
Behind his beard, Hagrid was smiling sadly down at all of them. "How far yeh've all come," he chuckled. "I remember when yeh were jus' little kids, bringin' Ron here throwin' up slugs. Or hangin' around my cabin hoping this one," he looked at Ginny and flipped a thumb at Heather, "would come by so yeh could see 'er. Yeh've grown up on me." The laughter switched suddenly to tears as he looked down at them all in turn, Heather last. Before any of them could react, Hagrid's chest swelled and he let out a ragged sob before tears began coursing down his thick beard. "I though I lost yeh, Heather. I carried yer body back through the forest, thinkin' I'd lost yeh. Even when yeh vanished, there at the end under yer cloak, all I cared about was findin' yer body and keepin' it safe." His entire body was quaking with tears now, shaking the chair he was sitting in.
"Oh Hagrid," said Hermione softly, rising from her chair and resting a hand on his massive arm. She conjured an overlarge handkerchief out of thin air and handed it to him.
"Thanks, Hermione." He blew his nose into with the sound of a dozen trumpets. "I'm not angry with yeh, Heather. Like Ginny said, we all did what we had to do to survive. But don't be mad at yer friends for lookin' out for yeh. Friends are the best thing yeh could have, and yeh've got some good ones."
Hagrid was not the only one crying. Even outside Grawp could be seen dabbing at his face. Hermione conjured another cloth and handed it to him through the open window.
"I'm sorry I did that to you, Hagrid," Heather said through her own tears. She hadn't even realized she'd started crying but now found that she couldn't stop.
"No," Hagrid said, blinking at her past his wet beard, "yeh didn't do anythin' Heather. He, Riddle, had to be beaten, and you did it! Yeh beat him and now we get to sit here, getting angry over boys and such. I'd take carrying yeh through the forest all over again if I knew this is where we'd end up."
Heather threw herself into the giant's arms, feeling that comforting presence wash over her as he stood, picking her up as he went. Tears from his beard rained down on her without notice as she was enveloped. Dimly she was aware that both Ginny and Hermione had also joined the hug.
When Hagrid set Heather down again and they were able to resume their places at the table, Ginny cautiously asked, "are you mad at us?"
"No," Heather shook her head honestly. "I'm glad you told me. If I'm ever going to figure all of this out I need to know everything."
"Figure what out?" asked Ginny, her incredulity overriding her caution. "You like him, he likes you. You've kissed him for Merlin's sake!"
"And you still have his jacket at the bottom of your trunk," Hermione added with a small smile. "Don't think I missed that."
Heather blushed. And here she'd been thinking she'd been so sneaky. "I was going to give it back to him," she said quickly, too quickly.
"Sure you were," Ginny replied sharing a knowing look with Hermione.
"Whatever," Heather harrumphed, crossing her arms and looking petulant.
Hagrid had recovered from crying enough to laugh. "Yeh know who yeh remind me of, Heather. Yer mum when she acted like she didn't like yer dad."
That made Heather sit up a little. It wasn't often she heard about her mother. "Really?" she asked.
"O' course! She was head over heels fer him, but would she cop to it? Nope! She would cross her arms and huff, just like yer doin' now." He let out a loud laugh again. "Never been better people then yer parents, Heather. Yer so much like both of 'em."
Heather brooded for a long while after that. Around her Hagrid began describing the various beasts he intended to introduce his classes to, the details of which filtered in and out of her mind without notice. Was she being stupid, trying to deny something that could be true? Maybe she did like Neville the same way he liked her. He was a good person, after all. Also, though she wouldn't dream of admitting this aloud to Ginny right now, he was sort of handsome in a way she hadn't noticed until the last few weeks. A mental image formed, of the two of them walking down a corridor holding hands. Try as she might she found it hard to find fault with the picture.
But through this feeling swept a cold, familiar wind. What if it went badly, it whispered to her. What if she was too broken to make it work? Swallowing hard, Heather silenced the voice, though she could not entirely dispel the weight settling now in her chest. Even if it wasn't true, the fact of how far down she'd gone the last time her emotions had plummeted worried her. She couldn't afford to go searching for the bottom of a bottle if she got her hopes up and got let down. In a single, sober moment she decided that, for now, she wouldn't pursue him. If she felt anything real for him, something she still wasn't entirely sure about, then they would wait. He certainly seemed content waiting for her, and if he moved on in the time it took her to figure it out, then so be it.
Freshly resolved, but still not feeling any less hesitant about the future, Heather caught wind of the conversation happening around her. Ginny and Hagrid were contemplating the upcoming quidditch season with enthusiasm, while Hermione was watching Heather from the corner of her eye. Giving her friend a half hearted attempt at a reassuring smile, Heather threw her focus into debating the pros and cons of chaser formations with Ginny and Hagrid.