Open Your Eyes Chapter Four
Title: Open Your Eyes (4/?)
Author: Cristofle (Liz)
Characters: Harry/Hermione primarily. Harry, Hermione, and Ron will appear significantly, but this is ensemble friendly, including just about everyone. The Weasley family, Kingsley, Angelina Johnson, Teddy Lupin, Neville, Luna, the Patil twins, and Dean will definitely appear in more than passing appearances.
Summary: " It was a disconcerting feeling- a sudden realization that he might now know Hermione better than Ron." Harry runs into an old friend, has an interesting conversation with Ron, and has a run-in with his own protective streak- while somewhere, a killer is striking again.
Spoilers: Heavy and specific spoilers all the way through 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'.
Disclaimer: If I owned anything, would I REALLY have written that DH epilogue? I own nothing, JKR owns everything, please don't sue.
Author’s Note: As always, thanks for the great feedback. This one’s a bit more of a look into Harry’s psyche about Hermione- Hermione can’t be the one all the time!
To Harry’s absolute astonishment, the chocolate cake hour hadn’t gotten badly the night before.
Ron and Hermione hadn’t had an enormous amount to say to each other, but they hadn’t really sniped at each other either. They’d mainly stayed focused on Harry and Teddy, but for Harry even having them together in the same room was progress.
He glanced at his watch as he headed for the Leaky Cauldron- he was a bit early for his lunch with the Weasley brothers, even deciding to walk, but he hadn’t gotten out of Poisons and Antidotes, not his best strong suit at any rate, quickly enough to really go over the case with Hermione so he’d opted to simply head straight to lunch. Sure enough, when he went through the dark little door, he didn’t spot any signature red Weasley hair in the bar. However, to his surprise, he spotted another familiar head- one with gleaming blonde hair.
“Luna!” he exclaimed happily, making his way over to where she stood at the bar. He didn’t see her or Neville as often as he’d like since coming home- Neville was training with Professor Sprout to take over the Herbology position when she retired and he wasn’t entirely sure what Luna got up to at any given time. Sometimes she was off searching for what he could only assume were entirely mythical creatures and at other times she was with her father writing for The Quibbler.
Luna turned around, her huge eyes settling on Harry. “Oh, hello, Harry,” she said in her usual dreamy voice, her wide smile making it clear she was happy to see him as she accepted his welcoming hug. “What are you doing here today?”
“I’m meeting Ron and a few of his brothers for lunch,” he said. “What about you?”
“Oh, I’m off to Diagon Ally to pick up a few things for Daddy,” Luna said vaguely. Harry knew better than to ask what. “I figured I’d stop for some lunch first. How is work at the Ministry? I assume you and Hermione are trying to take down the Rotfang Conspiracy from the inside.”
“Er- sure,” Harry agreed meekly, racking his brains to remember what the Rotfang Conspiracy was according to Luna. He vaguely remembered something about gum disease. “It’s…it’s tough at the moment,” he added honestly.
“Oh yes, I heard about Padma,” Luna said, her eyes going from dreamy to somewhat sad. “She was a bit of a silly girl in school, but she never meant anyone any harm.” Harry had to hand it to Luna- she had a way of cutting every situation down to the bone. “Daddy thinks that the Sisters of…” she trailed off and looked past him, thankfully saving Harry from having to respond to the theory. He had a great amount of affection for Luna, but he’d never learned what to say in response to the wild theories- particularly since what her father believed to be the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack had blown up her house. Turning around, he saw Ron come in. He waved him over, and Ron grinned at the sight of Luna. They were hugging and exchanging their own greetings as Bill and George came in.
“Well, I’d better be off,” Luna said, pulling away from Ron. “Daddy expects me back soon. It was good to see you; we shouldn’t wait so long before the next time. Tell Hermione I said hello.” She patted Harry on the arm, and he found himself locked in the rare but powerful sure and comforting gaze of hers. “It’ll be alright, Harry. You’ll figure it out. You always do.” And with that, she turned and was gone, heading for the entrance to Diagon Ally. For the first time, Harry found himself feeling better about the case.
“Bless her,” Ron said fondly, clapping Harry on the back. “C’mon, let’s sit down, I’m starving.”
The four of them had a rousing, intense discussion over their lunch as Harry shared all the clues he felt he was able to- “You have no idea how lucky you are,” Ron said wryly upon hearing he’d tracked Percy down. “The way he knows you’re close to Kingsley, I’m surprised you’re not still there.”- and getting their feedback in return. Bill was interested in the mysterious death- George went straight to talking about the possible witness.
Harry knew them all so well now.
He could never fully express to the Weasley family what they all meant to him. Ron, always by his side. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, acting in every way like he was one of their own. Bill, George, and Charlie, treating him like one of the brothers. Even Percy pestering him was something he wouldn’t give up for anything.
Lunch was over surprisingly soon for his jumbled, somewhat confused thoughts- he wondered why it was only when someone died that he really got like this. But Ron seemed to linger after his brothers left, looking at the ground, as if he wanted to say something.
“You okay?” Harry asked curiously as he swung his cloak over his shoulders.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ron assured him, although still staring at his feet. “I’ve just been thinking…things are different lately…last night wasn’t bad…maybe we should do it again?” He chanced a glance up at Harry. “You know, the three of us?”
Harry’s breath caught for the slightest of seconds- he’d been waiting for a year for his precious childhood friendship group to come back together even a little. “You, me, and Teddy?” he teased, trying not to show how important it all was to him.
Ron’s breath exploded in a laugh and he relaxed even as he protested. “C’mon, you’re not really going to make me spell it out.”
“It’d serve you right.” Harry cuffed him over the head in an affectionate way. “I definitely think a night like that could be arranged.”
Ron smiled his obvious relief that Harry was handling this so calmly and casually. “Cool. Well…Quidditch game on Saturday? Meet you here, and we’ll go over together?”
Harry nodded. “I’ve got to get back to work.” He clapped hands with Ron once, then turned to Disapparate. As usual, he landed in the main hall of the Ministry, and re-played the conversation back in his head on his way to the Auror office. His first, and foremost, feeling was one of utter delight- Hermione wasn’t someone anyone wanted to cross anymore than one would want to cross Minerva McGonagall, but she tended to be more forgiving and less stubborn than Ron when it came to things like friendship. If Ron could crack, Hermione would as well.
Things are different lately.
Harry frowned slightly as he pondered over what exactly Ron had meant by that. Ron HAD been a little different lately- a little happier, a little more willing to joke, a little less angry at the world. He knew his old friend well enough to know that six months prior, Ron probably would’ve fled his house Teddy or no Teddy.
So what was different lately?
Was Ron ready to move on entirely from his romance with Hermione, that had ended so painfully and messily? Or was he regretting, after all this time, that it had ended at all? It occurred to Harry that he wasn’t entirely sure exactly how the entire thing had ended and what he did know, he knew from Hermione. It was a disconcerting feeling- a sudden realization that he might now know Hermione better than Ron.
And somewhere, in the very back of his mind, so soft it was almost in his subconscious, he wondered why he felt he’d prefer the first option regarding Ron’s behavior- even softer was wondering why his own defense that he didn’t want to be picking up the messy pieces in yet another year was maybe not 100% true.
He was somewhat lost in his thoughts as he came into the office, between his musings over the Weasley brothers and Ron in particular, the reminder of the tough Poisons session- sometimes he really had a desire to slip back into Hogwarts and snatch that book of Snape’s back; it wasn’t like Snape had been evil, after all- and his thoughts on what the Weasleys had to say about the case.
As such, it took him a few minutes to realize that Hermione’s soft huffing from her desk was aimed at him.
He was so thoroughly disconcerted by the fact that he just sputtered for a moment when her slight glare collided with his confused gaze. “What’d I do?” he asked automatically, five possible apologies running through his head.
Actually, maybe I want to cross Hermione LESS than Professor McGonagall.
“I couldn’t find you at all this morning, you took an impossibly long lunch, and I’ve been trying to get your attention for like, five minutes,” Hermione said crossly.
Harry instinctively opened his mouth to protest that he had in fact been thinking about her, realized that would sound weird and faintly stalker-like without explaining the entire situation and possibly even if he did, and hastily changed track. “I’m sorry,” he said a little meekly. “I had Poisons and Antidotes this morning; you know I’m rubbish at that. And I ran into some people at the Leaky Cauldron- Luna says hello, by the way- and…yeah. I’m sorry,” he repeated in a small voice.
“Luna?” Hermione repeated, surprised out of her annoyance momentarily. “I haven’t seen her in ages, how is she?”
“The same,” Harry shrugged. “She applauds our efforts at trying to take down the Rotfang Conspiracy from the inside,” he added, trying to get Hermione to smile. Sure enough, her lips twitched.
“Do I want to know what that is?” she asked, somewhat jokingly wary.
“Probably not,” Harry confirmed. “So…what’s going on?” He studied her and realized she looked exhausted; his feeling like that of a scolded boy morphed into concern. “Are you okay?”
“Fine, I just…haven’t slept much,” Hermione sighed, running a hand over her face. “I tracked down Chamber, but it was like talking to a wall. A somewhat unfriendly wall. It lasted all of five minutes, and I felt like he was treating me as if I was someone who cleaned the toilets.” The memory of her frustrating morning rankled still.
“I have a very important meeting to go to, Miss Granger.”
“I could wait, Mr. Chamber; this could potentially be important to Padma Patil’s case-”
“I didn’t know the girl, and I expect the meeting will last most of the day.”
“Do you want me to have a go?” Harry offered. “Not that I’ll get far if you didn’t, but I could try. Just for the sake of fairness; if you got told off, I reckon I should.”
Both the subtle compliment and the offer made in a way that made it clear how much he saw them as a team melted any of Hermione’s annoyance. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she apologized. “I couldn’t exactly take it out on him, so I took it out on you. And it couldn’t hurt; he’s more likely to know who you are,” she finished a little awkwardly. She hated to suggest he use The Boy Who Lived title; she knew he didn’t like to. On the other hand, she knew he was willing to about something so serious.
Harry waved off her apology. “Don’t worry about it- we’re on this together, I should’ve told you I was taking a long lunch. I’ll give it a go tomorrow. Hey, on the bright side, Hestia told me this morning that they’re weaning off some of the one on one training- possibly, she’s just gotten that fed up with my antidotes and wants to fend me off on you, but we’ll start having some training together again.”
Hermione smiled weakly at him, then climbed to her feet. “I have Jinxes and Counter-Jinxes,” she said, even as it hit her how very much- and it was a rare feeling for her, since it wasn’t unlike a school class- she wasn’t up for it today. She’d been telling the truth to Harry- she wasn’t sure she’d slept more than a collective three hours in days. Thoughts of the case warred with thoughts of her confused and steadily growing feelings, making it impossible for her mind to stop racing.
Harry studied her face, an odd expression on his own. “I’ll find you afterwards, okay?”
She nodded tiredly and absently waved to Angelina on her way out. Harry watched her until she vanished, and it took him a minute to realize Angelina had transferred her gaze from Hermione to him at some point.
“Is she alright?” Angelina asked in concern. “I didn’t want to say it in front of her since I could be wrong and find out to my own peril, but this is the first time I can honestly say she looks like a jinx might knock her off her feet.”
“Well, she said herself she hasn’t been sleeping; this case has hit her hard. Maybe I didn’t realize how hard,” he said, his eyes automatically straying to the doorway she’d just disappeared to.
“Are you…sure it didn’t start before that?” Angelina asked a little awkwardly.
“What?” Harry asked, at first absently and then the meaning hit him. “Why? Did she say something to you?” he pressed curiously.
Angelina shrugged. “You’re more the expert than I am.” There was a faintly closed tone in her voice. “Hey, can you help me with something?” she added quickly, motioning him over to her desk.
Even as Harry scooted his chair over to hers and scanned a report of a sighting of one of the missing Death Eaters, even as he engaged in an intense discussion, a small part of him wondered if Angelina did in fact know something about Hermione that he didn’t.
Harry found himself channeling Hermione by the end of the day.
Where in the bloody hell is she? he wondered, glancing at the watch from Mrs. Weasley that he still treasured. She should’ve been out of training an hour ago. Not that he had anything of use about the case- after working with Angelina for almost two hours, he’d done a rare thing for him and tried to read up on Antidotes. Still, he’d been vaguely worried about her since she’d left. Sighing, he decided to find her himself and got up, fastening his traveling cloak and putting the ever useful moleskin pouch from Hagrid around his neck.
He was surprised to find Mr. Weasley seemingly waiting for him when he left the office. “Hi,” he smiled. “Are you…what’s going on?”
“Well, I heard from Dawlish about Hermione and I know she’s probably fine by now, but I wanted to check and make sure,” Mr. Weasley explained, as if it were all obvious a split second before he realized Harry was staring blankly at him.
“What- something happened to Hermione?” Harry said worriedly. “I’ve been in the office all day- what happened?”
“Nothing to be alarmed about!” Mr. Weasley assured him, patting him on the shoulder. “It sounds like a silly thing, really. She was a bit too late with her wand- hit with a Shield spell- I guess it knocked her off her feet, because she hit her head. I’m sure the Ministry clinic patched her right up- they must’ve sent her straight home.”
“Well, someone could’ve still told me!” Harry protested, his heart rate returning slightly closer to normal but still jumping a little at the idea that she’d gotten hurt. “She’s my partner- best friend- we check in- I’ll see you later. Thanks,” he vaguely waved Mr. Weasley off, not seeing Mr. Weasley’s startled stare, before rushing down to the main level. He wasn’t going to Apparate home just yet.
He went straight for the small cottage Hermione owned, closer to where he himself lived than the Ministry.
He didn’t bother to knock on the door; she never knocked on his. She was curled up on the couch, absently rubbing her forehead; she looked up in surprise when he barged in.
“Are you okay?” he asked without preamble, rounding the couch and sitting across from her on the coffee table.
“You heard,” Hermione said ruefully. “I’m sorry, I meant to come find you, but I have a headache that’s not half as hurt as my pride.”
“Head injuries hurt a bit even after magical healing,” Harry confirmed, knowing from more than one personal Quidditch experience. “Mr. Weasley gave me a right scare when I came out of the office, wanting to see if you were okay.”
“I’m fine, really,” Hermione assured him. “Like I said, nothing hurts more than my pride. I mean, truly. A Shield spell. After everything I’ve deflected in the past.”
“You need SLEEP,” Harry gently stressed. “And food, but sleep first, and leave the food to me.”
“Harry, it’s fine,” she started to protest. “Don’t go to…” she sighed in resignation when he simply stood up and held out his hands to help her up, trying not to focus on the pleasant little tingle when she slipped her hands in his. She tried not to wince at the pain in her head, but she had a feeling from a flicker in the bright green eyes that it hadn’t gone past his attention. “Don’t burn my kitchen down,” she said to cover it up, and he rolled his eyes at her.
She was torn between her own pride and determination not to be a weak little girl and her awareness that she’d be annoyed with Harry if he acted like something didn’t hurt when it did. The latter won long enough to allow him to pull the covers over her, and surprisingly, the concern and caring felt good enough to wipe her mind and allow her to sleep.
When she woke up, her first thought was that her head didn’t hurt half as much. Her second was that it must be much later, given how dark it was outside. She figured Harry must’ve thrown some food together and left, but to her surprise, he was sitting on the couch, flipping through one of her books about the history of Quidditch that she mainly kept in case he came over and needed to amuse himself. “Hey,” he smiled at her as he saw her come in. “I was waiting for you to…” he tapped something on the coffee table with his wand, and she laughed when she came to the couch and saw what it was.
“Grilled cheese sandwiches,” she smiled, sitting down on the couch and taking one of the plates. “Perfect. Kreacher lets you in the kitchen long enough to make these?”
“Don’t be silly,” he said wryly, and she laughed again. “No, I only knew how to make a few things when I was a kid- quietly, at any rate, I had to wait until everyone was in bed- and I used to make these when I didn’t feel so well. It’s easier to cook with magic if you’ve made it without.”
Hermione looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she bit into the surprisingly tasty sandwich, caught between being touched that he’d make her something that used to make him feel better and saddened that he’d had to cook for himself when he was sick as a child, or get no food at all.
Sometimes she thought she’d like to slap Petunia Dursley across the face and kick Vernon Dursley in the shins if she ever came across them again.
“This is very thoughtful, thank you,” she said out loud. “And after I was dreadful to you this afternoon,” she added ruefully.
“I’d hardly use the word dreadful,” Harry protested in her defense. “How’s the headache?”
She caught her breath a little as he touched her hair. “Much better,” she smiled, although at her plate. She didn’t know if she envied the teenage version of herself that used to throw herself in his arms or hold his hand with such ease, or wish she had that natural ability back. “I did need the sleep,” she admitted. “I just…my mind was going at top speed for days, until I crashed. Literally, into a desk head first.”
“There are Sleeping Potions…” he ventured.
“That are highly addictive if taken regularly, the same as sleeping pills,” she finished for him ruefully. “No, I’ll make more of an effort to sleep; I don’t think I realized how tired I was until I got so cranky with you today.”
“Well then, your crankiness was for a good cause and I’ll take that for the team,” Harry joked.
“The team of two?” Hermione said wryly.
“It’s still a team!” Harry defended. “Although speaking of that…” he suddenly sounded oddly hesitant.
Hermione looked at him curiously. “What?”
“I had a talk with Ron today, and he reckons…” Harry lifted his shoulders, and Hermione could tell it was more important to him than his would-be casual tone was letting on. “You know, that last night wasn’t so bad and we should try it again sometime.”
For some reason, this time it was natural to reach out and take his hand. “I’d like that,” she smiled softly, genuinely.
Harry’s grin was one of pure relief. “Yeah? I mean, it doesn’t have to be anything huge, just a lunch sometime, another thing with Teddy…”
“Oh, Harry. We’ve been horribly unfair to you, haven’t we?” Hermione sighed unhappily. “I really am sorry; I know we put you in the middle and I know you hate being there.”
“I’m okay,” Harry protested weakly. “I know it’s complicated…”
If you only knew now. “I still feel like we should’ve made more of an effort, thought of you and not just our pain,” she said aloud, a slight hint of self loathing in her tone. “You paid for a situation you had no part in, with two best friends who didn’t even come together for your last birthday. You had to come to us separately.”
“Well, if that could not happen again,” Harry admitted frankly, and she laughed in spite of herself.
Rupert Chamber’s nerves were frayed to the breaking point by the time he got back into his house late that evening.
Stupid nosy girl, asking ridiculous, dangerous questions…
He had to admit, he’d asked them himself at one point, but he’d learned better, hadn’t he? The girl had been DOWN in the Department of Mysteries, and still she clearly didn’t learn.
He was exhausted as he let himself in his front door, untying his cloak and hanging it on his coat hanger, and then absently flicking his wand so the hallway lit.
It wasn’t until then that he saw the man standing at the end of the hall.
His wand was out of his hand before he even had time to react; the man deftly caught it as Chamber’s blood turned to ice. “Gabriel,” he croaked. “I didn’t…I wouldn’t…”
“I just can’t be sure of that, Rupert,” he sighed, even though there was a silky, cool tone to his voice.
“So you did kill the Patil girl.” Rupert forced the bile down his throat, forced himself to stand up straight. He wouldn’t cower. “Are you here to kill me?”
“Kill you?” he shrugged- then in another lightning fast move, sent a Body-Bind jinx at him and removed something from underneath his cloak, dropping it at Rupert Chamber’s feet.
“I just don’t have to save you.”
And with that, he was gone. They were the last words Rupert Chamber ever heard.
Hermione woke groggily at a strange sound; at first, she vaguely thought she overslept, but she realized it was still dark. Her next realization was that she’d been sleeping on Harry’s shoulder. Finally, her hearing cleared and her eyes shot to the fireplace, at the same time Harry woke with a start.
“Urgent message from the Ministry!” It was Kingsley in the fire. Harry and Hermione sent one shocked look at each other before springing in unison to the fireplace.
“What happened?” Harry asked urgently. “What time is it? Is it about Padma’s case?”
“It’s 5 a.m, and we’re not entirely sure,” Kingsley said in his slow, deep tone. “But it’s looking like there’s been another murder.”
Author: Cristofle (Liz)
Characters: Harry/Hermione primarily. Harry, Hermione, and Ron will appear significantly, but this is ensemble friendly, including just about everyone. The Weasley family, Kingsley, Angelina Johnson, Teddy Lupin, Neville, Luna, the Patil twins, and Dean will definitely appear in more than passing appearances.
Summary: " It was a disconcerting feeling- a sudden realization that he might now know Hermione better than Ron." Harry runs into an old friend, has an interesting conversation with Ron, and has a run-in with his own protective streak- while somewhere, a killer is striking again.
Spoilers: Heavy and specific spoilers all the way through 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'.
Disclaimer: If I owned anything, would I REALLY have written that DH epilogue? I own nothing, JKR owns everything, please don't sue.
Author’s Note: As always, thanks for the great feedback. This one’s a bit more of a look into Harry’s psyche about Hermione- Hermione can’t be the one all the time!
To Harry’s absolute astonishment, the chocolate cake hour hadn’t gotten badly the night before.
Ron and Hermione hadn’t had an enormous amount to say to each other, but they hadn’t really sniped at each other either. They’d mainly stayed focused on Harry and Teddy, but for Harry even having them together in the same room was progress.
He glanced at his watch as he headed for the Leaky Cauldron- he was a bit early for his lunch with the Weasley brothers, even deciding to walk, but he hadn’t gotten out of Poisons and Antidotes, not his best strong suit at any rate, quickly enough to really go over the case with Hermione so he’d opted to simply head straight to lunch. Sure enough, when he went through the dark little door, he didn’t spot any signature red Weasley hair in the bar. However, to his surprise, he spotted another familiar head- one with gleaming blonde hair.
“Luna!” he exclaimed happily, making his way over to where she stood at the bar. He didn’t see her or Neville as often as he’d like since coming home- Neville was training with Professor Sprout to take over the Herbology position when she retired and he wasn’t entirely sure what Luna got up to at any given time. Sometimes she was off searching for what he could only assume were entirely mythical creatures and at other times she was with her father writing for The Quibbler.
Luna turned around, her huge eyes settling on Harry. “Oh, hello, Harry,” she said in her usual dreamy voice, her wide smile making it clear she was happy to see him as she accepted his welcoming hug. “What are you doing here today?”
“I’m meeting Ron and a few of his brothers for lunch,” he said. “What about you?”
“Oh, I’m off to Diagon Ally to pick up a few things for Daddy,” Luna said vaguely. Harry knew better than to ask what. “I figured I’d stop for some lunch first. How is work at the Ministry? I assume you and Hermione are trying to take down the Rotfang Conspiracy from the inside.”
“Er- sure,” Harry agreed meekly, racking his brains to remember what the Rotfang Conspiracy was according to Luna. He vaguely remembered something about gum disease. “It’s…it’s tough at the moment,” he added honestly.
“Oh yes, I heard about Padma,” Luna said, her eyes going from dreamy to somewhat sad. “She was a bit of a silly girl in school, but she never meant anyone any harm.” Harry had to hand it to Luna- she had a way of cutting every situation down to the bone. “Daddy thinks that the Sisters of…” she trailed off and looked past him, thankfully saving Harry from having to respond to the theory. He had a great amount of affection for Luna, but he’d never learned what to say in response to the wild theories- particularly since what her father believed to be the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack had blown up her house. Turning around, he saw Ron come in. He waved him over, and Ron grinned at the sight of Luna. They were hugging and exchanging their own greetings as Bill and George came in.
“Well, I’d better be off,” Luna said, pulling away from Ron. “Daddy expects me back soon. It was good to see you; we shouldn’t wait so long before the next time. Tell Hermione I said hello.” She patted Harry on the arm, and he found himself locked in the rare but powerful sure and comforting gaze of hers. “It’ll be alright, Harry. You’ll figure it out. You always do.” And with that, she turned and was gone, heading for the entrance to Diagon Ally. For the first time, Harry found himself feeling better about the case.
“Bless her,” Ron said fondly, clapping Harry on the back. “C’mon, let’s sit down, I’m starving.”
The four of them had a rousing, intense discussion over their lunch as Harry shared all the clues he felt he was able to- “You have no idea how lucky you are,” Ron said wryly upon hearing he’d tracked Percy down. “The way he knows you’re close to Kingsley, I’m surprised you’re not still there.”- and getting their feedback in return. Bill was interested in the mysterious death- George went straight to talking about the possible witness.
Harry knew them all so well now.
He could never fully express to the Weasley family what they all meant to him. Ron, always by his side. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, acting in every way like he was one of their own. Bill, George, and Charlie, treating him like one of the brothers. Even Percy pestering him was something he wouldn’t give up for anything.
Lunch was over surprisingly soon for his jumbled, somewhat confused thoughts- he wondered why it was only when someone died that he really got like this. But Ron seemed to linger after his brothers left, looking at the ground, as if he wanted to say something.
“You okay?” Harry asked curiously as he swung his cloak over his shoulders.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ron assured him, although still staring at his feet. “I’ve just been thinking…things are different lately…last night wasn’t bad…maybe we should do it again?” He chanced a glance up at Harry. “You know, the three of us?”
Harry’s breath caught for the slightest of seconds- he’d been waiting for a year for his precious childhood friendship group to come back together even a little. “You, me, and Teddy?” he teased, trying not to show how important it all was to him.
Ron’s breath exploded in a laugh and he relaxed even as he protested. “C’mon, you’re not really going to make me spell it out.”
“It’d serve you right.” Harry cuffed him over the head in an affectionate way. “I definitely think a night like that could be arranged.”
Ron smiled his obvious relief that Harry was handling this so calmly and casually. “Cool. Well…Quidditch game on Saturday? Meet you here, and we’ll go over together?”
Harry nodded. “I’ve got to get back to work.” He clapped hands with Ron once, then turned to Disapparate. As usual, he landed in the main hall of the Ministry, and re-played the conversation back in his head on his way to the Auror office. His first, and foremost, feeling was one of utter delight- Hermione wasn’t someone anyone wanted to cross anymore than one would want to cross Minerva McGonagall, but she tended to be more forgiving and less stubborn than Ron when it came to things like friendship. If Ron could crack, Hermione would as well.
Things are different lately.
Harry frowned slightly as he pondered over what exactly Ron had meant by that. Ron HAD been a little different lately- a little happier, a little more willing to joke, a little less angry at the world. He knew his old friend well enough to know that six months prior, Ron probably would’ve fled his house Teddy or no Teddy.
So what was different lately?
Was Ron ready to move on entirely from his romance with Hermione, that had ended so painfully and messily? Or was he regretting, after all this time, that it had ended at all? It occurred to Harry that he wasn’t entirely sure exactly how the entire thing had ended and what he did know, he knew from Hermione. It was a disconcerting feeling- a sudden realization that he might now know Hermione better than Ron.
And somewhere, in the very back of his mind, so soft it was almost in his subconscious, he wondered why he felt he’d prefer the first option regarding Ron’s behavior- even softer was wondering why his own defense that he didn’t want to be picking up the messy pieces in yet another year was maybe not 100% true.
He was somewhat lost in his thoughts as he came into the office, between his musings over the Weasley brothers and Ron in particular, the reminder of the tough Poisons session- sometimes he really had a desire to slip back into Hogwarts and snatch that book of Snape’s back; it wasn’t like Snape had been evil, after all- and his thoughts on what the Weasleys had to say about the case.
As such, it took him a few minutes to realize that Hermione’s soft huffing from her desk was aimed at him.
He was so thoroughly disconcerted by the fact that he just sputtered for a moment when her slight glare collided with his confused gaze. “What’d I do?” he asked automatically, five possible apologies running through his head.
Actually, maybe I want to cross Hermione LESS than Professor McGonagall.
“I couldn’t find you at all this morning, you took an impossibly long lunch, and I’ve been trying to get your attention for like, five minutes,” Hermione said crossly.
Harry instinctively opened his mouth to protest that he had in fact been thinking about her, realized that would sound weird and faintly stalker-like without explaining the entire situation and possibly even if he did, and hastily changed track. “I’m sorry,” he said a little meekly. “I had Poisons and Antidotes this morning; you know I’m rubbish at that. And I ran into some people at the Leaky Cauldron- Luna says hello, by the way- and…yeah. I’m sorry,” he repeated in a small voice.
“Luna?” Hermione repeated, surprised out of her annoyance momentarily. “I haven’t seen her in ages, how is she?”
“The same,” Harry shrugged. “She applauds our efforts at trying to take down the Rotfang Conspiracy from the inside,” he added, trying to get Hermione to smile. Sure enough, her lips twitched.
“Do I want to know what that is?” she asked, somewhat jokingly wary.
“Probably not,” Harry confirmed. “So…what’s going on?” He studied her and realized she looked exhausted; his feeling like that of a scolded boy morphed into concern. “Are you okay?”
“Fine, I just…haven’t slept much,” Hermione sighed, running a hand over her face. “I tracked down Chamber, but it was like talking to a wall. A somewhat unfriendly wall. It lasted all of five minutes, and I felt like he was treating me as if I was someone who cleaned the toilets.” The memory of her frustrating morning rankled still.
“I have a very important meeting to go to, Miss Granger.”
“I could wait, Mr. Chamber; this could potentially be important to Padma Patil’s case-”
“I didn’t know the girl, and I expect the meeting will last most of the day.”
“Do you want me to have a go?” Harry offered. “Not that I’ll get far if you didn’t, but I could try. Just for the sake of fairness; if you got told off, I reckon I should.”
Both the subtle compliment and the offer made in a way that made it clear how much he saw them as a team melted any of Hermione’s annoyance. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she apologized. “I couldn’t exactly take it out on him, so I took it out on you. And it couldn’t hurt; he’s more likely to know who you are,” she finished a little awkwardly. She hated to suggest he use The Boy Who Lived title; she knew he didn’t like to. On the other hand, she knew he was willing to about something so serious.
Harry waved off her apology. “Don’t worry about it- we’re on this together, I should’ve told you I was taking a long lunch. I’ll give it a go tomorrow. Hey, on the bright side, Hestia told me this morning that they’re weaning off some of the one on one training- possibly, she’s just gotten that fed up with my antidotes and wants to fend me off on you, but we’ll start having some training together again.”
Hermione smiled weakly at him, then climbed to her feet. “I have Jinxes and Counter-Jinxes,” she said, even as it hit her how very much- and it was a rare feeling for her, since it wasn’t unlike a school class- she wasn’t up for it today. She’d been telling the truth to Harry- she wasn’t sure she’d slept more than a collective three hours in days. Thoughts of the case warred with thoughts of her confused and steadily growing feelings, making it impossible for her mind to stop racing.
Harry studied her face, an odd expression on his own. “I’ll find you afterwards, okay?”
She nodded tiredly and absently waved to Angelina on her way out. Harry watched her until she vanished, and it took him a minute to realize Angelina had transferred her gaze from Hermione to him at some point.
“Is she alright?” Angelina asked in concern. “I didn’t want to say it in front of her since I could be wrong and find out to my own peril, but this is the first time I can honestly say she looks like a jinx might knock her off her feet.”
“Well, she said herself she hasn’t been sleeping; this case has hit her hard. Maybe I didn’t realize how hard,” he said, his eyes automatically straying to the doorway she’d just disappeared to.
“Are you…sure it didn’t start before that?” Angelina asked a little awkwardly.
“What?” Harry asked, at first absently and then the meaning hit him. “Why? Did she say something to you?” he pressed curiously.
Angelina shrugged. “You’re more the expert than I am.” There was a faintly closed tone in her voice. “Hey, can you help me with something?” she added quickly, motioning him over to her desk.
Even as Harry scooted his chair over to hers and scanned a report of a sighting of one of the missing Death Eaters, even as he engaged in an intense discussion, a small part of him wondered if Angelina did in fact know something about Hermione that he didn’t.
Harry found himself channeling Hermione by the end of the day.
Where in the bloody hell is she? he wondered, glancing at the watch from Mrs. Weasley that he still treasured. She should’ve been out of training an hour ago. Not that he had anything of use about the case- after working with Angelina for almost two hours, he’d done a rare thing for him and tried to read up on Antidotes. Still, he’d been vaguely worried about her since she’d left. Sighing, he decided to find her himself and got up, fastening his traveling cloak and putting the ever useful moleskin pouch from Hagrid around his neck.
He was surprised to find Mr. Weasley seemingly waiting for him when he left the office. “Hi,” he smiled. “Are you…what’s going on?”
“Well, I heard from Dawlish about Hermione and I know she’s probably fine by now, but I wanted to check and make sure,” Mr. Weasley explained, as if it were all obvious a split second before he realized Harry was staring blankly at him.
“What- something happened to Hermione?” Harry said worriedly. “I’ve been in the office all day- what happened?”
“Nothing to be alarmed about!” Mr. Weasley assured him, patting him on the shoulder. “It sounds like a silly thing, really. She was a bit too late with her wand- hit with a Shield spell- I guess it knocked her off her feet, because she hit her head. I’m sure the Ministry clinic patched her right up- they must’ve sent her straight home.”
“Well, someone could’ve still told me!” Harry protested, his heart rate returning slightly closer to normal but still jumping a little at the idea that she’d gotten hurt. “She’s my partner- best friend- we check in- I’ll see you later. Thanks,” he vaguely waved Mr. Weasley off, not seeing Mr. Weasley’s startled stare, before rushing down to the main level. He wasn’t going to Apparate home just yet.
He went straight for the small cottage Hermione owned, closer to where he himself lived than the Ministry.
He didn’t bother to knock on the door; she never knocked on his. She was curled up on the couch, absently rubbing her forehead; she looked up in surprise when he barged in.
“Are you okay?” he asked without preamble, rounding the couch and sitting across from her on the coffee table.
“You heard,” Hermione said ruefully. “I’m sorry, I meant to come find you, but I have a headache that’s not half as hurt as my pride.”
“Head injuries hurt a bit even after magical healing,” Harry confirmed, knowing from more than one personal Quidditch experience. “Mr. Weasley gave me a right scare when I came out of the office, wanting to see if you were okay.”
“I’m fine, really,” Hermione assured him. “Like I said, nothing hurts more than my pride. I mean, truly. A Shield spell. After everything I’ve deflected in the past.”
“You need SLEEP,” Harry gently stressed. “And food, but sleep first, and leave the food to me.”
“Harry, it’s fine,” she started to protest. “Don’t go to…” she sighed in resignation when he simply stood up and held out his hands to help her up, trying not to focus on the pleasant little tingle when she slipped her hands in his. She tried not to wince at the pain in her head, but she had a feeling from a flicker in the bright green eyes that it hadn’t gone past his attention. “Don’t burn my kitchen down,” she said to cover it up, and he rolled his eyes at her.
She was torn between her own pride and determination not to be a weak little girl and her awareness that she’d be annoyed with Harry if he acted like something didn’t hurt when it did. The latter won long enough to allow him to pull the covers over her, and surprisingly, the concern and caring felt good enough to wipe her mind and allow her to sleep.
When she woke up, her first thought was that her head didn’t hurt half as much. Her second was that it must be much later, given how dark it was outside. She figured Harry must’ve thrown some food together and left, but to her surprise, he was sitting on the couch, flipping through one of her books about the history of Quidditch that she mainly kept in case he came over and needed to amuse himself. “Hey,” he smiled at her as he saw her come in. “I was waiting for you to…” he tapped something on the coffee table with his wand, and she laughed when she came to the couch and saw what it was.
“Grilled cheese sandwiches,” she smiled, sitting down on the couch and taking one of the plates. “Perfect. Kreacher lets you in the kitchen long enough to make these?”
“Don’t be silly,” he said wryly, and she laughed again. “No, I only knew how to make a few things when I was a kid- quietly, at any rate, I had to wait until everyone was in bed- and I used to make these when I didn’t feel so well. It’s easier to cook with magic if you’ve made it without.”
Hermione looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she bit into the surprisingly tasty sandwich, caught between being touched that he’d make her something that used to make him feel better and saddened that he’d had to cook for himself when he was sick as a child, or get no food at all.
Sometimes she thought she’d like to slap Petunia Dursley across the face and kick Vernon Dursley in the shins if she ever came across them again.
“This is very thoughtful, thank you,” she said out loud. “And after I was dreadful to you this afternoon,” she added ruefully.
“I’d hardly use the word dreadful,” Harry protested in her defense. “How’s the headache?”
She caught her breath a little as he touched her hair. “Much better,” she smiled, although at her plate. She didn’t know if she envied the teenage version of herself that used to throw herself in his arms or hold his hand with such ease, or wish she had that natural ability back. “I did need the sleep,” she admitted. “I just…my mind was going at top speed for days, until I crashed. Literally, into a desk head first.”
“There are Sleeping Potions…” he ventured.
“That are highly addictive if taken regularly, the same as sleeping pills,” she finished for him ruefully. “No, I’ll make more of an effort to sleep; I don’t think I realized how tired I was until I got so cranky with you today.”
“Well then, your crankiness was for a good cause and I’ll take that for the team,” Harry joked.
“The team of two?” Hermione said wryly.
“It’s still a team!” Harry defended. “Although speaking of that…” he suddenly sounded oddly hesitant.
Hermione looked at him curiously. “What?”
“I had a talk with Ron today, and he reckons…” Harry lifted his shoulders, and Hermione could tell it was more important to him than his would-be casual tone was letting on. “You know, that last night wasn’t so bad and we should try it again sometime.”
For some reason, this time it was natural to reach out and take his hand. “I’d like that,” she smiled softly, genuinely.
Harry’s grin was one of pure relief. “Yeah? I mean, it doesn’t have to be anything huge, just a lunch sometime, another thing with Teddy…”
“Oh, Harry. We’ve been horribly unfair to you, haven’t we?” Hermione sighed unhappily. “I really am sorry; I know we put you in the middle and I know you hate being there.”
“I’m okay,” Harry protested weakly. “I know it’s complicated…”
If you only knew now. “I still feel like we should’ve made more of an effort, thought of you and not just our pain,” she said aloud, a slight hint of self loathing in her tone. “You paid for a situation you had no part in, with two best friends who didn’t even come together for your last birthday. You had to come to us separately.”
“Well, if that could not happen again,” Harry admitted frankly, and she laughed in spite of herself.
Rupert Chamber’s nerves were frayed to the breaking point by the time he got back into his house late that evening.
Stupid nosy girl, asking ridiculous, dangerous questions…
He had to admit, he’d asked them himself at one point, but he’d learned better, hadn’t he? The girl had been DOWN in the Department of Mysteries, and still she clearly didn’t learn.
He was exhausted as he let himself in his front door, untying his cloak and hanging it on his coat hanger, and then absently flicking his wand so the hallway lit.
It wasn’t until then that he saw the man standing at the end of the hall.
His wand was out of his hand before he even had time to react; the man deftly caught it as Chamber’s blood turned to ice. “Gabriel,” he croaked. “I didn’t…I wouldn’t…”
“I just can’t be sure of that, Rupert,” he sighed, even though there was a silky, cool tone to his voice.
“So you did kill the Patil girl.” Rupert forced the bile down his throat, forced himself to stand up straight. He wouldn’t cower. “Are you here to kill me?”
“Kill you?” he shrugged- then in another lightning fast move, sent a Body-Bind jinx at him and removed something from underneath his cloak, dropping it at Rupert Chamber’s feet.
“I just don’t have to save you.”
And with that, he was gone. They were the last words Rupert Chamber ever heard.
Hermione woke groggily at a strange sound; at first, she vaguely thought she overslept, but she realized it was still dark. Her next realization was that she’d been sleeping on Harry’s shoulder. Finally, her hearing cleared and her eyes shot to the fireplace, at the same time Harry woke with a start.
“Urgent message from the Ministry!” It was Kingsley in the fire. Harry and Hermione sent one shocked look at each other before springing in unison to the fireplace.
“What happened?” Harry asked urgently. “What time is it? Is it about Padma’s case?”
“It’s 5 a.m, and we’re not entirely sure,” Kingsley said in his slow, deep tone. “But it’s looking like there’s been another murder.”