"I really don't think this is going to work."

It was unusual for Harry to hear Hermione sound so unsure about her abilities. But her confidence had certainly waned over recent weeks, still reeling from the loss of Matthew. Perhaps, after all this time, she still somewhat relied on him to boost her morale, constantly waxing lyrical about her skills. Harry had attempted to do the same, as if he needed to fill the gap left behind by their friend, but his efforts always seemed to fall upon deaf ears.

The issue was that, when it came to practising occlumency, a degree of confidence was a basic requirement. It was bad enough that Harry felt that his chances of succeeding were minimal, meaning they were already working from a poor starting point. He was relying on Hermione to convince him that this was going to work, yet felt guilty for even considering putting that responsibility on her shoulders. They both knew it was important that he finally mastered this magical ability, adding even more pressure into the mix.

Their setting might not have helped the situation. Conducting the sessions within the Tardis was a non-starter, bringing up far too many personal distractions to make occlumency viable. Perhaps, once he was further along the line, it would serve as a decent test of his aptitude. For now, they'd ended up within Hagrid's hut, with the half-giant offering his home up whilst he ventured into the Forbidden Forest, for reasons he wouldn't exactly explore. Again, the place came with a multitude of distractions threatening to occupy his attention, along with the ghosts of times they'd spent there with a third member of their group.

"We have to try," Harry argued. "And, if Matthew was able to teach me, then you'll be great at it too. I'm sure of it."

Hermione huffed. "I don't know about that. I've got minimal experience when it comes to entering another person's mind."

"Matthew said that you did it to him."

"Because he let me do it."

"Still counts. And Dumbledore seemed to think you were the best candidate for the job."

"Whilst I appreciate the faith shown by the headmaster, I'm pretty sure that he's testing me. With Matthew gone, the amount of pure magic in the world is largely placed at our feet. If we can do this…"

"...then it'll prove that we still have the power-he-knows-not. Great. No pressure then."

"I've mentioned in the past that Snape is a skilled Legillimens. If Dumbledore asked politely enough, he'd be on hand to give you proper lessons."

Harry's laugh was sharp and harsh. "I don't want him going anywhere near my head, thank you very much."

"Isn't that the point? The whole point of occlumency is to prevent an unwanted attacker from accessing your thoughts. If I'm the one doing it, are you really going to fight as hard to stop me?"

"I've definitely got some thoughts that I don't want you to see."

She arched an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"If I don't want you to see them, I'm not going to describe them, am I?"

"I thought I might catch you off guard. It's at least a good sign that you've got your wits about you."

"It must be a rare occurrence. I haven't been able to think straight for weeks. There's too much to worry about. Horcruxes, Death Eaters, the ongoing onslaught of classes, OWLs are right around the corner. Matthew always said that you needed a calm mind to block everything out. It's going to be years before I reach that stage."

"You have to remind yourself just how far you've come. Remember all the sessions you did with Matthew. All that time you spent, painstakingly going through the same process over and over again. I know I found it tough at the best of times. You were practically on the precipice of succeeding. Recent events have just formed a major bump in the road, undoing some of that work. But it's still there. It'll be like riding a bike once you properly get started."

"I never learnt how to do that."

"Pardon?"

"You know, riding a bike. The Dursleys never taught me. It'd involve buying me a bike in the first place, which would never have happened. And it'd have taken attention away from Dudley, and that was basically a cardinal sin."

"Maybe we can move onto that once you've finished with occlumency."

Harry pulled a face. "Do you think cycling is going to help in the fight against Voldemort?"

"Well, you'd be a moving target, so he'd struggle more to hit you with a spell in a duel. It could actually be a viable option, now that I think about it. I mean, can you picture him pedalling? Perhaps with stabilisers either side of him."

Harry smirked. "I know what you're doing."

"Pray tell…"

"You're taking my mind off all those worries by painting an absurd picture in my head. You might have more talent as a teacher than you first gave yourself credit for."

"That's going to be the key to this working. If you focus on innocuous things for a moment, it should free your mind. It'll be like stretching your muscles before going for a run. At the moment, your brain is tight and constricted, meaning it's less malleable to your every whim. You can't get it to do what you want, meaning it has less chance of fending off invasions."

"So…what? We should just chat for a bit and see what happens?"

"It wouldn't hurt to try, would it? It might be a slightly different technique to what Matthew used, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. You might need something new to reinvigorate your abilities."

"Speaking of you being a teacher, how did your session with McGonagall go?"

An announcement had swept through the fifth years that each and every one of them had to speak with the Head of House, discussing the future and, more importantly, what careers they were considering going into. What they said would determine the path they'd take throughout their final two years at Hogwarts, particularly revolving around the NEWT level classes they'd be subjugated to. Harry had found the whole prospect daunting, never one to think favourably about the future.

"She was under the illusion that I'd want to become a professor, a bit like you're suggesting now," Hermione explained. "It's always been a possibility, of course. It'd make sense. Someone with good grades would probably be able to encourage the next generation to meet similar standards. But…I don't know. Would I want to spend my life lecturing the same lessons I've already dedicated the majority of my teenage years to?"

"Well, it'd mean you wouldn't have to read from a textbook."

"I could write the next editions of all the textbooks. Imagine that. My words being used to inspire every child that passes through those hallways for decades. Maybe even centuries, based on some of the dates of our current library. And then they'd be translated, used in schools like Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. My books spread across the entire globe."

"What did McGonagall say to that?"

"That she always knew I'd be ambitious and that it was a trait I should hold onto. She reckoned, if I put my mind to it, I could be the Minister of Magic one day."

Harry straightened in his chair. "Really?"

"You sound far too surprised."

"No! It's just…I didn't think of that and it's strange, because the image feels right in my head."

"I'm not so sure. After seeing what Fudge has been turned into…from all accounts, he was a brilliant wizard in his day, working up the ranks with a fiery purpose. Ever since he got the top job, he let that passion slip. He puts political games first, always thinking about the best alliance for each particular situation, rather than focusing on actually doing good in the community. My fear would be that I'd end up getting changed because of that landscape too."

"I think it'll take a lot more to divert Hermione Granger from her principles."

She smiled softly. "At least you have some faith in me."

"Always."

"From what I could tell, McGonagall was doing her best to present the biggest prospects imaginable, which was probably why she wasn't too impressed with my main idea at first."

"You want to be a journalist."

"You remember that?"

"I was the one who initially gave you the idea! And I still think you'd be great at that."

"Once I explained why I wanted to go into that area, I managed to get McGonagall on side. It's about connecting with the community, showing that our differences should unite us. I'd get to tell people's stories. Stories that would otherwise be lost to time. Naturally, it takes off some of the pressure going into the next two years, because you don't need a specific set of NEWTs to go into that industry."

"But you're still going to do the toughest ones, aren't you?"

"We might be too distracted for that to be viable. It might be a good thing if I take it easy."

"The Hermione Granger I know never takes it easy. I know you're still struggling, so don't make any decisions yet that you'd regret later. You'll find your mojo again after a while and you'll want to tackle every exam with the same enthusiasm I've seen across the years."

"We're getting dangerously close to discussing a topic we really shouldn't be if we want our minds to be carefree," Hermione warned.

"I know. But it's hard. It's hard not thinking about him. Even talking about the future…it feels wrong to be picturing a life without him. Like…I'm betraying his memory."

She placed a gentle hand on his knee. "We're not talking about this, okay? Once the seal is breached, it'll be like a dam bursting. So…what did you tell McGonagall about your job prospects?"

"Well…I've never given it a lot of thought. With the prophecy, it's entirely likely that I'll be dead within a couple of years so what's the point in planning so thoroughly?"

"These aren't carefree thoughts, Harry. I won't tell you again."

"Have I ever told you that you can be quite frightening?"

"You might have mentioned it a few times."

"You got that quality from…"

"...if you had to take up a career now, what would it be?" she asked, interrupting his line of thought before he could bring up his name again. If she were hoping to keep him off balance, then she was succeeding.

"I…don't know."

"You must have told McGonagall something. She's not the sort of person who'd accept a wasted meeting."

"The first idea that came to me was being an Auror. You know, chasing after bad guys, protecting people. But, if I reach that point in my life, I get the sense that I'll be tired of fighting. I won't want to be constantly thinking about one danger to the next."

"You'd prefer something quieter."

"Exactly. I'm not going to become a librarian or anything like that. I enjoy reading but not that much. McGonagall pointed out that my Defence Against the Dark Arts grades are now top of the year, seeing as the main competition isn't there anymore. She seemed to suggest that I could take over one day. As an actual professor. I'm already close to Lupin, so he'd be able to mentor me."

"And is that something you want to do? Teaching? You resisted it quite strongly with the duelling club."

"I'd be able to get an element of excitement, using my magic, without being in an endless cycle of peril. It could be the best of both worlds. And, by then…hopefully, at least…there'll be less pressure on students to learn that magic for an impending war. Can you picture me standing at the front of a classroom? Wearing a waistcoat or something? Maybe I'd carry a briefcase around all the time to look professional, but it'd never actually contain anything besides a few snacks. I'd…I'd be able to pass on the lessons that Matthew taught me, changing the entire curriculum so that pure magic doesn't go forgotten for centuries again."

He was so lost in his head that he didn't realise that Hermione had taken her wand out. He was engrossed in the possibility of his new career that he barely heard her speak, nor did he register what she was saying. But, when different memories began to flood his senses, it became clear that she'd kickstarted the legilimency process, practically whispering the incantation to catch him unawares. If Harry hadn't been so overwhelmingly inundated with flashbacks, he might have congratulated her on both her skill and sneakiness.

The first image that crossed his mind wasn't one he ever wanted to experience again. Matthew's face was in front of him, his eyes closed and his skin pale. The boy was in an ornate coffin, fully prepared for his final journey. However hard he tried, he couldn't tear his gaze away, no matter how desperately he wished he could do so. All he could think about was how he'd failed his friend, how life wasn't remotely fair. Because what was the point in continuing the fight if Matthew remained dead at the end of it?

Hermione was standing next to him. She didn't look like the others. She occupied the same spot as he could remember from the funeral, but her clothes were different. Unlike the black fabric the rest of the party were swathed in, she was sporting her school uniform, allowing a flash of colour from the Gryffindor accents. The same clothes that she'd been wearing in Hagrid's hut just a second before. Even so, her cheeks were stained with tears, as if she were reliving the moment just as much as Harry was.

"You're still too distracted," she said, with the others around them not listening. "Right now, Matthew is an open wound. One that Voldemort will be all too happy to exploit if it gets any worse."

"How am I supposed to forget about him?"

"I'm not asking you to do that. Think of it like you're protecting him."

"I couldn't do that when it actually mattered. I couldn't protect him from the Death Eaters."

"It still matters, Harry. You can make up for those failings. But the only way you can do that is by shielding his memory. Keep it private. Don't allow anyone to taint it."

Harry closed his eyes. He could feel the world shifting. One moment, he was living through one of the worst days of his life. The next, he was inside the Tardis. Matthew was standing there, along with another version of himself. They looked so impossibly young, completely oblivious to what was to come. Harry couldn't see Hermione amidst the shadows of the console room but he got the sense that she was there, lurking, waiting to pounce, waiting to take advantage of any weakness he showed.

"I'm the one to blame for this mess," Matthew was saying. "But I'm also not going to apologise because I truly felt like I was doing the right thing."

The summer of third year. Soon after Matthew and Hermione had crashed into the Shrieking Shack, finally revealing the boy's impossible secret. There'd been so much change at the time. Sirius was becoming a part of his life. The past was being rewritten with Pettigrew's testimony. He hadn't been able to trust his friend up until this conversation. But why was he thinking about it now?

"Yeah, you tried to tell me that last time," the other version of Harry spat. "The right thing for who though? Me or yourself?"

"Why can't it be both?"

"It hurts too much for it to be the right thing for me."

"Things aren't always that simple, Harry. But you know now. You're one of the few people who know about who I am. That's how much I trust you. I allowed Sirius to remember too, as a courtesy, to make this easier for you. Pettigrew wasn't so lucky. Dumbledore obliviated him as soon as you left. I would have done it but, frankly, with how annoyed I was, I probably would have erased more than necessary and he'll be needing most of his memories for the trial."

"So I should be happy that you haven't erased my memories? Do you know how terrifying that is? To hear you contemplate that as an actual possibility?"

"I would never do that to you. Because, even if you were angry with me, I trusted you not to tell anyone. That's what I had to contend with when I chose to tell you."

"I understand that. I do. I really do. But Hermione could have easily had the same reaction as me, yet you didn't hesitate nearly as much."

"Try telling her that. She had to prise the information out of me."

"Because I never tried to get you to talk about it."

"That's different."

"How? How is it different? After everything, I can understand most of what you did. I know why you didn't tell me. I know why you'd want it as a secret. I just want to know why it was her first, before me."

"I feel like we keep going around in circles. I told her first because she confronted me. A couple weeks after you found out about Sirius supposedly betraying your parents. So I told her. And I kept it from you because I didn't think you could cope with learning about another betrayal of trust. It would have hit too close to home."

"The thing that's been stinging is, because of that choice, I've felt for weeks that you've seen your friendship with her as more important as ours."

It had been so hard to admit those doubts, the ones that had been eating away at him for so long. These were insecurities that only Matthew knew about, and Harry suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious, fearful that Hermione was still listening into the conversation.

"Is this what this is all about?" Matthew asked, one ghost walking closer to the other.

"A part of it. It just feels like a sign that you'd be perfectly alright if it was just the two of you."

"Harry, neither of us feel like that. Hermione would launch into a lecture if she heard you talking like this. In an ideal world, I would have told you both at the same time. That's how I wanted to do it, because you're the two people I've learnt to trust since coming here. Maybe I was too scared to go through with it. If I told one of you, then at least I wouldn't be losing both of you. That was my mindset. It had nothing to do with picking favourites."

"You seem…seem to be close, that's all. It's different between you and her, compared to me and you. Or me and her."

"And that's because, even if we're a team, we still have those different friendships too. I'm sure Hermione is envious of our friendship at times. You should have spoken about this earlier. I think it's natural to have those doubts. Everyone goes through it, where you believe that people might be better off without you. But we're a trio. Nothing's going to change that."

That stung. It stung so much. Because even after everything they'd been through, they never once contemplated that death would tear them apart. It almost felt naïve, looking back. But they'd been children, their heads full of the notion that they were invincible. Harry felt like he still had the right to be a child, not on the cusp of adulthood. He wanted to return to that level of obliviousness.

"That's all I can promise you," Matthew continued. "I can't change the way you think but I can tell you where I'm coming from."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"It's pretty much all you've been doing since you stepped foot inside here."

"I don't think you're going to like it."

"I'm getting that sense, yeah."

"Do you like Hermione?"

It was becoming clearer why this memory was the one to resurface. Was Hermione the link? Was he caught between wanting to remember Matthew and having her influence currently in his head? It was dangerous territory, especially because he knew what was coming next. But it was too tempting to just stand there, appreciating the chance to see his friend walking around as if he were alive again. The notion of escaping the dream barely crossed his mind.

"What sort of a question is that? Of course I like Hermione! She's brilliant! She's clever, witty, fiercely loyal, doesn't suffer any nonsense from either of us…"

"Matthew. For once, just give me an honest, straight answer."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Maybe not to her. Maybe it wasn't even to me until recently. But you don't exactly hide it. You're always finding ways to compliment her. Since you started doing this training with her…even when I didn't know that was what you were doing…I could tell something had shifted between you two. You were closer. It's why my suspicions grew."

Matthew moved to the steps, almost brushing past the real Harry as he observed the memory. All he wanted to do was reach out and grasp him. But that sort of thing would prove without a doubt that it was just a figment of his subconsciousness, ruining the illusion.

"I didn't…intend for this to happen. This wasn't the plan. I didn't want to get close to anyone because I'd learnt that people are eventually torn away from you. Do you want to know something that Hermione doesn't?"

"You mean you haven't told her everything?"

"Some things hurt too much. But I'm willing to tell you, to prove that I do trust you. Do you remember the Mirror of Erised?"

"It's not something that's easy to forget."

Even now, the object was one that Harry desired. Who would he see upon inspection? Would it still be his parents? Or would Matthew be standing there, making quips and smiling easily, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Like you, I saw something in its reflection. Someone. Before I was sent away, I had a friend. She was called Enola. We were young kids, from different families, we always spent time with one another. At that age, you think friendships are going to last forever. But I had to leave her behind, like I did with everyone else. She probably won't have known why I just…vanished…and I sometimes wonder whether her fondness for me turned to bitterness over the years. Looking in the mirror, I saw a reality where I didn't have to go through that pain. By that point, I'd already decided that I didn't want to go through that again, and yet I made the same mistakes. I found you and Hermione, and those walls I'd built up threatened to crumble down."

"I shouldn't have brought it up."

"You had every right to do that, Harry. I can't hide from it forever."

"So…what are you going to do with Hermione? Are you going to tell her?"

"Do you like her?"

"We sound like a bunch of school kids, asking whether we have crushes on someone."

"That's what I'm trying to get at. We're both just kids. I'm still just a kid. I think you've got this conception of me that I'm something more than that just because of my background, but I'm as clueless as anyone when it comes to stuff like this. I need you to remember that."

"Why did you ask…if I like her?"

"Because I need to know. Because, if you do, I won't do anything. I don't want to damage our friendship any more than I already have."

"You'd put my feelings before your own?"

"If I have to."

The memory ended abruptly. Harry found himself sitting back in Hagrid's hut. Alarmingly, Hermione was in the middle of putting out a small fire that had somehow started, swatting the blazing tea towel until it was subdued. By the time Harry recovered from the shock and managed to produce a jet of water with his wand, the fire had practically been put out already. Hermione looked shaken and, whether that was down to the close call with the flames or the memory she'd just been subjected to, Harry didn't know.

"What happened?" he yelled in panic.

"You did, Harry," was Hermione's response. "I'm so proud!"

If he'd been confused earlier, he was reaching an entirely new level. "What?"

"You defended yourself against mental intrusion. Yes, it took a bit longer than I'd like, but you kicked into gear once you wanted me out of your head."

"So I…used wandless magic…"

"...to attack the intruder, yes. In an extremely volatile manner, as well. There must have reached a point in that conversation that you didn't want me to see, and your instincts kicked in. Which is brilliant. It shows that your training hasn't been forgotten."

Harry thought about it some more. Had he really been that defensive over the memory that he couldn't allow Hermione to see it play out? Was it down to the confusing mix of feelings and emotions that existed between the trio? Maybe he just wanted to protect the memory, having promised Matthew that he wouldn't divulge the contents of their conversation. Even after death, that loyalty still existed. Or perhaps he'd simply returned to his senses, abruptly remembering that he was supposed to be practising his defences.

"I never knew that you talked about that sort of thing," Hermione pressed on, making him feel more uncomfortable. "I had my suspicions, of course. There were plenty of times when you were both suspiciously jumpy."

"We…um…we didn't make a habit of it."

"I'm trying to figure out what scandalous details you're hiding so desperately…"

"How's the towel?" Harry frantically asked, hoping to keep the topic in a safer territory. "Did I damage it? Am I going to have to get Hagrid another one?"

"You set fire to it, Harry. So, yes, it's damaged. But nothing that a little spell can't handle. Look at the positives. You didn't set my cloak on fire, at least. Then we would have had a problem."

"We should probably call it a day…"

"Woah!" She stopped him before he could get out of his chair. "We've just got started! You're making progress but there's still the issue of Matthew clearly playing on your mind. I want to see if you can actively control your mind, diverting any memories of him away. If they're kept to the back of your head, then you'll have a better shot at keeping any unwanted visitors out."

Harry already had the inkling that, whatever memories popped up next, they wouldn't necessarily be about Matthew. For the first time since his death, there was something else to take up the majority of Harry's brain power. So, when Hermione pointed her wand at him for a second time, he was consumed with a heavier dose of fear than what he'd experienced with the initial challenge.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you have so many books in your house. There must be thousands! I bet it's worth a fortune."

He was being forced to watch himself again. He didn't know whether to be grateful that Matthew wasn't there this time. It was just him and Hermione, at an even earlier point than the last memory. They were standing in her living room, one of the first sustained periods of time they'd shared solely in one another's company. She'd saved him from the Dursleys, offering up her home as a point of salvation. He remembered being so grateful, wondering how someone could be so unselfishly kind.

The younger Hermione laughed. "I wouldn't go that far. You've been in the Hogwarts library loads of times, that's far more impressive."

"But this is all yours. This is you. This is what formed Hermione Granger whilst she was growing up."

"This is where I spent my childhood. Every birthday or Christmas, my parents and the rest of my family would know that the best thing to get me was a new book - the bigger, the better. So the collection slowly started to grow. And then I'd start to get money instead but I'd just use that to buy the books I really wanted. I think my parents did try to give me other things, more girly things, like they thought that would make me normal. It obviously didn't work and I always felt as if that disappointed them in some way. I was never one for playing outside, mainly because no one ever asked me. I suppose I should have tried harder to play with other kids but I've never really understood them."

"Or perhaps they didn't understand you well enough."

"I'd sit in that arm chair...I'd look tiny in it...I still do really...and then absorb myself in one of the books. Why would I want to go outside if I could have so many wonderful adventures from the comfort of my own home? It didn't make sense to me why everyone else wanted to go to parties or play sports, whilst ignoring all of this."

"I wouldn't have ignored this if I'd known you growing up. I would have been around here all the time."

"Are you sure about that? Would you have even thought to be friends with me at Hogwarts if it wasn't for Matthew? He was the one who brought us together. Would you have been interested in the lonely kid in the corner, surrounded by a fortress of books?

"I don't know. But I do know that that doesn't matter to me. There's no point considering 'what ifs' when our lives are already bonkers enough as it is. All I care about is that we managed to become friends, no matter how that came to be. And I agreed to come here, didn't I? That's proof enough that I like being around you."

"Or did you just come here to get away from those horrible relatives of yours? You would have gladly lived with Professor Snape for the Summer if it meant you were somewhere different."

"You're far better than Snape, don't you worry."

"You're too kind. If you start paying me compliments like that, my father may start to grow protective."

"But...I...I...don't even...like you...well, I obviously like you...but...not like, like...we're far too young...I've never even thought about it...maybe I should go...I'll go."

It should have been entertaining, watching as the younger version of himself stumbled so pathetically over his words. But Harry could only focus on the topic that his mind had brought forward again, slowly understanding why they were taking precedence. That discussion had revolved around the viability of their friendship without the presence of Matthew to bind them. Perhaps his mind was trying to warn him now of those same fears. Perhaps he was terrified of Hermione drifting away from him now that Matthew wasn't there to keep them together.

"Honestly, Harry. You're far too easy to wind up."

"That's a part of you I don't get to see at Hogwarts. How much fun you get out of teasing! You're more like Matthew than you dare to admit."

"Or maybe he's just like me."

"I can only imagine what his reaction would be if he heard you say that."

"Are you upset that he's not here? That's it's...just me?"

They were in the hospital wing. The sudden change in scenery was nauseating, though he was thankful to have gotten out of the previous memory. Until he realised what specific occasion was before him now. Harry and Hermione were surrounding the bed of their friend, frozen in place, suffering the consequences of an encounter with the basilisk. It hurt how much it resembled what they'd eventually go through. It hurt how Matthew had recovered from this dice with death, but wouldn't be able to pull the same trick again.

"He looks peaceful," Hermione said, staring down at the boy's face. "Probably more peaceful than I've ever seen him. Don't you think that's a bit strange?"

"Depends," the second-year Harry responded. "I wouldn't be surprised that even a giant monster wouldn't terrify him. He's tougher than an old pair of boots. Or so he claims."

"I meant that it's a bit strange that this is the calmest I've seen him. All the time, his mind is whirring like a whirlwind and now he gets to relax, even if he wouldn't want to. I'm glad…that he's peaceful. I don't think I would have been able to look at him if he was scared when he was frozen. You don't think he was afraid, do you? Deep down? What if he thought he was going to…die? And he was all alone, without us by his side. It shouldn't have been like that."

"He wasn't alone. He had that Penelope girl with him when it happened. I bet, even if he was a little bit frightened, he put that to one side to make sure that she was protected. I don't know how he did it but he made sure that she was petrified rather than killed. That has to be a good thing."

"That's Matthew. He can't resist a damsel in distress. That's how you met me, remember? He just had to help me with my trunk. And I'm so relieved that he did because I don't know what I would have done here without you two. I might have gone home within a few months. But now I don't have him by my side."

"You still have me."

This time, he could feel himself pushing Hermione out of his head, so it was a relief to see the hut around them once again. It wasn't a comfort, however, to have the girl sitting so close to him. Not after what he'd felt. Not after what'd been through. Because it was becoming clearer now. His focus wasn't explicitly on Matthew. It was the absence of their friend. And how, despite having been through a similar scenario, he still wasn't ready to contend with what it meant when they were just a duo.

"That's exactly what I was looking for!" she exclaimed happily. "You had the strength and control to forcibly remove the foreign presence. A few more sessions and you'll be back to where you were before everything else got in the way."

"Can we...can we focus on just how brilliant you are?" he fired at her.

"What do you mean?"

"I might have eventually found the strength to defend myself against you, but you're the one who successfully got into my head. And you didn't even leave any lasting damage!"

"I...I didn't realise how much I needed to have that confirmed. Ever since Dumbledore suggested it, I've been wracked with so many doubts. I was worried that...I'd only been able to make this progress because of Matthew."

"He'd be the first to say that it was all you."

"Because he was stubborn. Too stubborn for his own good."

For the first time in a while, Hermione's smile appeared to be a genuine one, even if it was still small and tentative. It was progress. And Harry vowed to keep working until her smile returned to its full glory. Maybe that was the only way his would come back too.

"I think we should leave it on a high," he suggested. "Now that I'm not setting things on fire."

"For once, I'm not going to argue. We've learnt in the past that too much reminiscing can be a dangerous thing. Maybe...it's time to start looking forward every once in a while."