A/N: Hi everyone! We're back again! If I may address a personal peeve of mine real quick, for those who say that it's OOC for Hermione to slap Harry, have you read different books than me? She's been described to kick Harry, punch Ron repeatedly, punch Draco (deserved, sure) and cast that bird spell on Ron that left cuts and bruises. There are many more instances so I honestly think that she's not that opposed to using a bit of violence every now and then. It's okay if you still feel different but I just wanted to offer my view of things.
No Candle e'er shall shine in Thee,
Nor bridegroom's voice e'er heard shall be
Chapter 16
The next couple of days, Malfoy was quite obviously absent for meals. He would go to his classes and Harry could spot him in the common room doing his homework every day but he didn't show his face in the great hall. Harry vaguely wondered where Malfoy was eating but imagined that he just went to the kitchens or something. He didn't think a lot about the blond mainly for two reasons. First of all, he had his own problems to worry about. Christmas break was right around the corner which meant that Pomfrey would start 'healing' his old injuries. It was not something Harry was looking forward to at all. Second of all, Malfoy was a prat. He always had been and he always would be. If he, for some reason, was struggling now, it was just karmic retribution coming to bite him in the ass… if you believed in that kind of thing.
But then one morning, Malfoy threw several packages on Harry's bed as he was getting dressed for the day.
"What now?" Harry sighed.
"Did you already forget, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Does that scar of yours impede on your memory as well as your looks? I promised you new clothes and books, didn't I?"
Harry glared at him. "You don't have to be such a twat," he said. "I just didn't think you'd still bother after your recent theatrics."
If looks could kill, Harry would have died a swift death right then and there. For a long moment, Malfoy just stared at him before finally relenting. "I made a promise," he said evenly. "And despite things not exactly going as I wanted, I still wanted to make up for my faux pas."
"Alright," Harry said carefully. "But there better not be any exploding shirts in here or something."
Malfoy rolled his eyes, not taking the bait and just walked out of the door.
"Aren't you going to eat in the Great Hall?" Harry called after him but Malfoy ignored him completely and just went on his merry way.
Eager to actually wear something without holes in it, Harry started opening the packages. The heavy ones were his books. He set those to the side to go through later that evening. For now, he still had his slightly damaged ones and he didn't feel like swapping the contents of his bag so close to breakfast.
In the soft packages, he found his new clothes. Every piece of clothing was carefully wrapped in a soft, golden paper of sorts and each seemed to be sprayed with some sort of delicate perfume. Harry couldn't help but role his eyes at the decadence. He had to admit though, that the fabric of the clothing was smooth to the touch and felt very high quality. Even to someone who didn't know anything about fabrics.
All of the things he had asked for, he received. But Malfoy seemed to have taken the liberty to order a lot of extra things. Too much, really, for Harry to wear. He even got two different pairs of boots. He hadn't even thought of ordering those but now that he got them, he was glad for them. They were obviously made from real leather. The laces were self-tying and the insides were soft and plush. When Harry put them on, he felt as if he was walking on a cloud. All of the clothes seemed to magically fit to his own size.
He also received two beautiful coats. One for the winter and one for the summer. Even in the cheapest establishment, coats were often one of the more pricy items. In this one, Harry couldn't even begin to imagine what these coats would have cost Malfoy. Both of them were hand-embroidered with a subtle red thread. A nice gesture, actually. The red thread seemed to form magical runes. Each coat came with a handwritten card that detailed several charms that were cast on it such as protection against heat for the summer coat and protection against the cold for the wintery one. They both were wind – and rainproof and would apparently bind to the first person to wear them after which they could be summoned with a simple word. The winter coat was also lined with the softest wool Harry had ever felt and he was nearly certain that it came from some type of magical creature.
All in all, even though Harry was not exactly poor himself, he wasn't sure if his vault would have been enough to cover all of this.
And while enormously over the top, Harry had to admit that it was good to have nice clothing for once. Clothing that actually fit him. Clothing that was purchased for him and him alone. It was deeply confusing that the nicest things he ever received came from one of the people he disliked the most. Okay, he was no Dursley nor was he Voldemort but still…
After subtly rubbing the treacherous tears away that dared to well up in his eyes, Harry tried on one of his numerous new outfits, donned his gorgeous boots and proceeded to the common room to find someone to go to breakfast with him.
Someone wolf whistling at him caught him off guard.
"Geez, Harry," Fred called out. "You look so snazzy!"
"Oh yes," George agreed. "Snazzylicious!"
"Stop it," Harry said, rolling his eyes.
"But seriously," Fred said. "Are those the clothes you got from Hogwarts? I know Dumbledore favours you but wow! Maybe this year, I should go looking for a philosopher's stone or something."
"I didn't get these from the school," Harry said. "Malfoy got them for me after he destroyed my new clothes as soon as they got here."
The twins looked at him blankly.
"That both does and doesn't make sense," George said.
Fred nodded. "It makes sense that he destroyed your stuff – would have been nice if you said something to us, by the way – but why would he replace it?"
"Was that Snape's punishment?" George asked. "Because if that's the kind of thing he makes his Slytherins do, I don't think we can afford to stay at Hogwarts for very long."
Harry sighed. "He did it of his own accord," he said. "To try and make Snape less angry at him."
"Ah," Fred said. "So that's what the outburst was all about. It didn't work."
"I guess he's still not allowed to play quidditch, huh?" George added. "Kind of childish to throw a tantrum about something like that."
"Just don't lose these clothes in a fire, Harry," Fred said. "Hogwarts will go bankrupt replacing these."
"I'm not planning on running into burning towers again," Harry said honestly.
"You didn't plan for it the first time either," George said. "You darned Gryffindor."
Harry chuckled. "Come on. Let's go to breakfast before we are late."
Damned be these blasted children, each and every one of them. Here Snape was, on the cusp of discovering something extraordinary but his mind kept wandering to the current conundrums at hand. Namely Potter and Draco.
Potter's issues were apparent enough. The boy was not talking to anyone about his problems and – frankly – didn't seem to believe that anything was going to change. Perhaps due to experience. Christmas break was coming up though, and healing those old injuries was bound to bring up some painful memories. Without anyone to discuss these with, the boy would likely not be able to handle it. Unfortunately, his friendship with Granger and Weasley seemed to have waned since they split up in different houses. Perhaps Weasley could still be there for the boy but Granger didn't even bother to show up at meals anymore, much like problem child number two of his.
It was bad enough that Draco had thrown that phenomenal tantrum in the Great Hall but he seemed to be adamant to break nearly every rule Snape had set for the Slytherins. He didn't eat in the Great Hall anymore, he clearly was going places by himself, the stupid child, he lost points left and right and at times he didn't even show up for bed time until well past curfew. Hadn't it been for his uncharacteristic outburst against the twins, Snape would have already come down hard on the boy but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something more than your typical teenage woes. And he feared that his interference might make things worse. He would need to observe Draco for a little while longer before deciding what he was to do with him. As long as he wasn't in any danger, Snape would let him be for now.
He glanced at the mysterious potion resting in the back of his personal lab. He had performed numerous tests as well as spells to try and find out whatever he could about it. The most obvious ingredient was the feather of a Quetzalcoatl. Not an impossible ingredient to find but hard to come by and the creature in question was more rare than a basilisk. Of course, it was like Salazar Slytherin to use parts of a mythical snake.
Other than that, Snape was able to see that the water used in this potion was very specific. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before and yet, it was definitely water. He supposed a specific source or well was used but he would need to do more testing to find out which, where and why.
That was not all there was to figure out, though and Snape's head was already hurting. He knew – without a doubt in his mind – that the cauldron used to brew the potion was also of importance. Of great importance even. Yet he could not for the life of him imagine which cauldron was used. It was infuriating, maddening and oh so fascinating. He hadn't felt the exquisite wonder that came from experimentation like this in years. And the harder the search, the greater the reward. This could very well transcend his name into greatness.
And yet, he knew that he came up short. Finding out what he had, had only raised more questions. Questions he knew would need to be answered by Salazar Slytherin himself. He likely hid more clues around the dungeons. Was it right to ask those children for help? It did not suit him to do so. But he couldn't very well tear down the dungeons brick by brick in the hopes of finding what he was after. But the only person he knew to be able to speak Parseltongue was Potter. That or he would have to travel to Argentina to try and find the Dark Lord though he doubted that he would be happy to help with this quest.
No, it was not right to ask children for help. Especially not one as troubled as Potter. He would simply need to dig deeper and try harder to find out what needed to be found. So far, he did realise that the potion was not poisonous and was used to bring forth memories some way or another. He also knew that other than the mysterious cauldron and water used, there were still at least three or four more ingredients he needed to find. He could focus on those for now. And who knew, with a little bit of luck, those crafty children would find the next clue of their own accord. If only those annoying twins hadn't realised just how badly he wanted this…
"Hey, Harry,"
Harry had done his best to ignore his redheaded friend during Herbology but the boy had finally mustered up the courage to come and talk to him himself.
"What?" Harry asked, still feeling rather cross. He was adding mulch to his dittany, careful not to harm the little flowers.
"I'm a bit worried, mate," Ron said. "About you both."
"Well, you didn't care before," Harry said. "And I don't feel like – what do you mean, both?" He stopped caring for his plant and frowned as he took a good look at Ron. He looked a bit nervous.
"Well, Hermione is acting a bit nutty, isn't she?" Ron asked. "Always studying and writing and stuff."
"Doesn't sound like anything new to me," Harry scoffed. "Nice to know that you at least worry about her. But I can't help you." In fact, he didn't want to.
"She's not acting right, Harry!" Ron tried again, a bit louder this time. "We both know she's always studying but not like this."
"She's found her peers, I guess," Harry sighed. "She doesn't need us anymore, just let it go, Ron." He turned away, quite done with this argument.
A hand on his shoulder spun him back around, though. Now Ron looked positively pissed. "That's enough," he said. "I don't know what's gotten into you and I'm sorry that I couldn't talk to you that one time but it has nothing to do with Hermione. She hasn't come down to eat in days. When I see her in class, she always has her nose in a book. She doesn't even answer questions in class anymore unless she's asked directly!"
While that sounded off, Harry couldn't bring himself to care. At least, so he told himself. "We all have our own issues, Ron," he said. "If Hermione is doubling down on her studying, I say let her. Maybe we've always been dragging her down, trying to get her to do other things. You're not the same either, you know?"
"You're just ignoring this on purpose!" Ron said, raising his voice a little. "I bet you feel real good down there in Slytherin, huh? Are they pampering you so well that you don't even care about your old friends anymore? Don't think I didn't notice your fancy new clothes and your self-cleaning boots. Must be nice. Tell me, who did you do which favour to get these, huh?" Ron forcefully tugged on Harry's cloak to reveal his clothes underneath. "Oh yeah, look at that. Your outfit is worth more than my house, I reckon'. I guess that's what's really important to you now, huh? Didn't take you long at all, did it?"
"Stop it!" Harry said. "You have no idea what happened and you don't know why I have these. Maybe if you stopped to think for two seconds, you would realize that I would never sell my soul to Slytherin for an outfit or two."
"And I would think that you would think better of Hermione and me than to think we just stopped being friends," Ron countered. "Things happened with us too but you don't stop to think about that, do you? Maybe we had things going on as well. Did you ever stop to think that we have other obligations now? That the rules are not the same as when we were in Gryffindor?"
"Damnit, Ron!" Harry yelled and everyone in the greenhouse got quiet. "You don't know what you're talking about! Of course the rules are different. I get it! What you don't seem to get is that I really needed you that evening. You and Hermione. But you blew me off. And I don't bloody care what your reason was because I guarantee you that it wasn't good enough. So whatever Hermione is going through, she can just deal with it herself!"
"Mr Potter!" came Sprout's indignant voice. "Ten points from Gryff – I mean, Slytherin." She shook her head in dismay. "Honestly, what is going on with you children nowadays. Must be those dementors floating around." She kept muttering to herself as she turned around, looking over Neville's contribution.
Great, now he'd have to answer to Snape for the loss of points. It was all Ron's fault anyway. He had been yelling too. Why didn't he lose points? He glared at the redhead who just seemed shocked as if he didn't know how to process the things Harry had been saying.
The truth was that Harry didn't really mean it. Not entirely. But he was still upset with Hermione and Ron both. They might not have known what Harry's issue was in the first place but they should have known him well enough by now to realise that he wasn't just knocking down their doors to play chess or something. If they had problems of their own now, they could stew in it for a bit.
Though… had Hermione really not come down to eat in days? He hadn't really noticed her absent behaviour in class either, though that might be because he wasn't really looking for it, either. He would see her tomorrow, in their animagus class. He might keep an eye on her, even if he was adamant to let her solve her issues by herself.
Though let's be honest. If she really needed help, Harry wouldn't be able to stop himself from giving it.
"Try and keep your cool this time, Potter," Zabini whispered in Harry's ear. "I don't know what's going on between you and the other Gryffindors but if you lose any more points, Professor Snape will be less than happy."
Harry set down his book bag and sat down heavily into one of the chairs to the side. He gave Zabini a disinterested side-eye. "I'll see if I can manage to hold my temper," he said sarcastically. "Anything else you need?"
"Just don't embarrass us any more than you already have," he hissed.
"Tell that to Malfoy," Harry countered easily. With another exaggerated huff, Zabini just went off and sat down next to Goyle. Harry glanced at Malfoy who wasn't paying him any attention despite clearly being within earshot. He was leaning his chin on his palm whilst twiring a quill between his fingers. He stared at his desk. Whatever, though. He could do whatever he wanted as long as he didn't bother Harry.
Instead, Harry begrudgingly refocused his attention to the other end of the room where the Ravenclaws were seated. Most of them were having heated discussions about the animagus process and what would be expected of them this lesson, but Hermione was just sitting by herself, engrossed in one of the books McGonagall had assigned for this class.
While Harry really wanted to be mad at her, especially for resorting to violence with him, he had to agree with Ron that something was clearly off. She had dark circles under her eyes and she seemed thinner than before. Horribly pale as well. She was nervously twirling a strand of greasy, knotted hair between her fingers and occasionally chewed on it. Every now and then one of her new housemates would try to talk to her but she seemed to ignore all of them.
Harry was about to go to her and say something when McGonagall entered the room. A complete opposite to Hermione, she seemed almost chipper. Harry could have sworn she had a spring in her step as she quickly took the seat behind her desk and took in the interested faces in front of her. When her gaze reached Hermione, she seemed to falter for a moment but- much to Harry's chagrin – she merely tightened her lips slightly before proceeding.
"Welcome back to your animagus lessons," she said happily. "I trust that you've all read and memorised the books I provided?"
Everyone nodded collectively. Except for Hermione who still seemed engrossed in the large tome.
"Good!" McGonagall said. "I expected you might. It's such a fascinating subject, after all. I for one can't wait to see what can be accomplished with a little bit of hard work. I already saw some promising cases in a couple of other classes and have no reason to believe that you can't make such large strides yourself."
Excited murmuring took over the classroom for a couple of seconds before McGonagall raised her hand.
"Now tell me," she said. "What is the next step in our animagus journey?"
A few heads turned expectantly to Hermione, knowing that she was always eager to answer any question but… she just turned a page and kept reading.
Okay yeah. Something was very wrong.
"Yes, Ms Greengrass?" McGonagall said when Daphne had raised her hand.
"Meditation," she said simply. "Much like the beginning of Occlumency, we need to clear our mind and focus on what kind of animal we could become. Connect with our inner self."
Harry had no idea what Occlumency was but McGonagall nodded and smiled at Daphne. "Five points to Slytherin dear," she said. "Well done. You are most correct. Today, you will all be attempting to meditate quietly for as long as you can. To your feet, please."
When everyone was standing – Hermione after being tugged to her feet by another Ravenclaw – McGonagall flicked her wand and had all the desks and chairs line up against the wall in an orderly fashion. Another flick summoned a bunch of soft cushions that lay invitingly on the floor.
"Now," McGonagall said. "I want you to put away your books and wands, take a seat and sit however you feel most comfortable. It doesn't matter how as long as you can attain your position for a lengthy duration without distraction. Just do what is natural to you."
Harry took one of the cushions and moved it against the wall. Not only so that he could lean against it while sitting but it also made him feel safer, in a sense. Not that anyone would jump him from behind, but it was nice to know that that possibility was physically impossible.
Daphne – on the other hand – chose a spot on the floor next to the large window. She had a great view of everyone from there. Harry decided to try and ignore her, even if the sun played brilliantly with her golden hair.
Harry kept a close eye on Hermione who seemed to just stand there. She still had an open book in her hand but at her side. Her tired eyes scanned the room as if she was unsure of what to do. Then, McGonagall walked over to her and said something. Harry wished that he was close enough to hear what was being said but imagined that their former head of house was also expressing her concern. Hermione just shook her head, though. She reluctantly put the book in her bookbag that looked extremely overloaded and sat down on the cushion that was closest by.
McGonagall clapped her hands when everyone was seated and smiled. "Very well," she said. "As Ms Greengrass said, it is now time to meditate. Everyone please close your eyes and consider the animals you read about carefully. Imagine their characteristics. Their strengths and weaknesses. Their biomes and instincts. Try to consolidate those traits with your own but without judgement or arrogance. Aim for truthfulness or you will fail."
Harry took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. Very well. He would not be able to say anything worthwhile to Hermione right now anyways. Might as well focus on the meditation.
He wasn't sure what to picture or think about, really. What animal did he see himself as? What did he resonate most with? What was important to him? The most obvious choice for him would be flying, wouldn't it? Maybe it was to be expected and maybe it was a bit forced but he did think that flying felt right to him. An affinity with the sky, yes. That would be his focal point. The problem was that there were a great deal of creatures that could fly. They ranged from small insects to large birds of prey. Did a flying squirrel count? A bat certainly seemed too dungeonesque, even if he was a Slytherin right now. Was a dinosaur a possibility even if they were extinct?
No, nothing too big and nothing too fancy. It would need to be something that was quick and agile. Something that Harry had proven to be many times over. Something that could be carefree and safe. So not an insect, he imagined.
For the next hour or so, Harry focused on all the birds he could think of but none of them seemed particularly right. In the end, he imagined that he likely didn't know enough species of bird and would need to do a little bit more research. But, there was also a possibility, of course, that a bird was not his animagus form and that wishing for it to be so was sending him down a completely incorrect path. It was frustrating, not knowing what he was actually working towards. But time flew by quickly and while he had accomplished nothing, at least he felt a little bit more at peace.
"Ms Granger?" Harry opened his eyes to see McGonagall lightly shake Hermione who seemed to have fallen asleep.
"Is she alright?" Harry asked. He jumped to his feet and tried to approach them when McGonagall raised her hand to stop him.
"She's merely sleeping," she said. "Let her be for now. And you –" she addressed one of the Ravenclaws. "Please let her next Professor know that she won't be coming. She can stay here for a while since I have no more classes scheduled for today."
When Harry didn't want to leave, McGonagall sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "A little rest will do wonders," she said, trying to reassure him. "Run along now. You'll see her at dinner, I wager."
Harry wanted to say more but agreed that his friend needed her sleep. But as he left, all he could think about was that while he thought she hadn't taken his troubles seriously, Harry hadn't even noticed that she was struggling too. Maybe the bad friend in this situation, hadn't been her.
A/N: I once again don't seem to be getting notifications for some reason but don't let that stop you from reviewing, please. I'm still checking and very happy to get them.
