Chapter Five.
Hermione climbed the girls’ staircase slowly. Harry hated her.
The cloud that had shrouded Harry’s eyes seemed to lift as he swallowed the vial. He looked confused for some time, then his eyes flashed with anger. He turned on Hermione.
“How could you, Hermione?” he shouted.
Tears fell from Hermione’s eyes, “I-I’m sorry, Harry.” She’d never seen such anger in those green eyes towards her.
“It wasn’t right,” he mumbled, pacing behind the couch. She could tell a million things ran through his head. It was all apparent in his eyes.
“And you!” Harry yelled, turning on Ron, “This was your idea!”
“Please Harry,” Hermione started, sniffling, “We were so worried about you. I needed to know what was wrong with you. You hadn’t talked to us. You were so distant.”
“And your plan was to use me!”
“No,” Hermione choked out.
“Harry, don’t be that way,” Ron said, quietly, “We were at the end of our rope.”
“So you felt that giving me no choice was the best way,” Harry stopped pacing, and then turned to Hermione again, “I told you things that I didn’t want you to hear!”
Hermione started crying again, her breath coming in hiccoughs. She didn’t notice Harry’s face soften, but he turned swiftly away.
“Accio Firebolt!” Harry cried. His Firebolt raced towards him from the boy’s staircase and without another word, he left.
Hermione reached her bed and flopped down on it, crying quietly into her pillow. Those green eyes haunted her. They had looked at her with such hurt and anger.
Her first thought had been to go after him, but Ron had stopped her.
“Leave him alone,” Ron said, sadly.
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but stopped. It was true. Harry needed time to think.
“I told you he would hate me,” she answered instead.
“He’ll get over it.”
Hermione shook her head.
“Look, go to bed,” Ron suggested, “I’ll stay up and wait for him.”
Hermione shook her head again, feeling too much pain and heartache for what had just happened. She wanted to wait to see Harry again as well. She wanted to fix this. Everything that happened, she would never take back for all the books in the world. Hermione was so happy in Harry’s arms, but she wasn’t sure if that’s where she would be ever again.
“Go Hermione,” Ron urged, “I want to talk to him first.”
She finally conceded and turned slowly towards the staircase.
It took hours for Hermione to fall asleep and she tossed and turned all night, dreaming. She dreamt she’d failed. The dark lord killed Harry and was about to turn on her when she sat bolt upright in bed. It was still early.
Knowing she wouldn’t sleep anymore, she got out of bed and went down to the common room. Ron slept soundly, snoring in one of the armchairs. A few first year girls giggled at him from across the room.
Hermione shook him.
“W-What?” Ron answered sleepily.
“Didn’t Harry come back?” Hermione asked anxiously.
Ron’s eyes opened wide, “I don’t know, I’ll check the dormitory.”
He went upstairs while Hermione’s heart raced wildly, worried that he was missing.
Ron came back a few minutes later to find Hermione pacing in the same spot Harry had paced the night before.
“He’s sleeping,” he said, glumly, “I must have missed him.”
Hermione sighed angrily, “Can’t you do anything right?”
“I fell asleep!” Ron snapped.
“Well, good one!” Hermione retorted and went out the portrait hole to the Great Hall alone.
She sat for a long time, staring at her breakfast. Ron had come down, but avoided her. He went and sat by Ginny, who kept nervously glancing at Hermione.
Hermione could sense the second Harry had stepped into the Great Hall. She turned and met his eyes. Immediately, he spun on his heel and walked away quickly. She rose to follow, but couldn’t find him anywhere. They had Defense Against the Dark Arts next together, so she went towards the classroom.
He wasn’t there so she sat in front of the classroom to wait.
Harry still hadn’t turned up by the time the door
was opened and Professor Tonks led them into the room.
“Where’s Harry?” Tonks whispered to Hermione as she took her seat in the front row.
Hermione shrugged and didn’t meet her eye. She was trying to force back tears.
Harry entered five minutes late and sat beside Hermione quietly. They always sat together in this class, everyone had known not to sit with her.
Hermione tried to catch Harry’s eye throughout the whole class, but he wouldn’t look at her and when it was finished, he rushed off before she could say a word.
Days went by like this. Hermione’s head seemed
to be in a daze. Neither Harry nor Ron would speak to her. They wouldn’t sit together, but at opposite ends. Twice, Ginny tried to find out what happened, but gave up when the trio would snap at her.
A week later during dinner, Professor Dumbledore approached their table. Harry sat three seats over from Hermione, which was the closest he had sat in the past week.
“Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, I wish to start the training of both of you tomorrow night in the Room of Requirement. Please meet Professor Lupin there at seven o’clock sharp,” he told them.
They both nodded, and Harry looked away.
Hermione stopped the Headmaster as he walked away, “Headmaster, may I ask you something?”
“Of course Hermione,” he answered, turning to her.
“Do I belong in Gryffindor?” Hermione asked curiously. It had been bothering her, among other things, ever since Dumbledore had said that he asked the sorting hat to place her in Gryffindor.
“Now, that’s an amusing story,” the headmaster smiled, “The sorting hat did not like that I had asked it to place you in that house. Told me to mind my business. It would be for it to decide. But it looked inside you as it sat on your head. It saw that you did have the brain of a Ravenclaw, but in your heart you were a true Gryffindor. Quick thinking and courageous.”
Hermione smiled, pleased with herself.
Before turning away, Professor Dumbledore added, “You sure have proven yourself these past years.”
Hermione continued to eat, thinking. She was happy the headmaster had said that, but her happiness didn’t last. She didn’t notice as she sat there that Harry was staring at her, reflecting on Hermione’s part in all of his troubles. She had always been his rock. Nothing would have ever been right if she wasn’t there.
The next night, Hermione headed toward the Room of Requirement alone. She hadn’t seen Harry since dinner.
Wondering if Harry would even show up tonight, she rounded the corner and walked straight into Malfoy. He was with his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle.
“Ugh! Mudblood!” Draco shrieked, wiping at his clothes.
“Eat it Malfoy!” Hermione snapped.
“Oh, not very nice tonight are we?” he smirked at her, he looked at his two buddies, “I think we should teach this filth a lesson.”
Before Hermione knew what was happening, both Crabbe and Goyle had taken her arms. She kicked out at them, but they both pinned her against the wall. Malfoy withdrew his wand. He traced the outline of her face with the tip. Hermione glared at him, not showing her fear.
“No one to save you this time, is there mudblood?” Malfoy whispered in her ear. He had leaned in really close, far too close for comfort.
Hermione kneed him in the groin, and he doubled over. He cursed and then slapped Hermione in the face. Her eyes filled with tears. No one had ever hit her before. Harry and Ron had always been her protectors, but they weren’t here now. She panicked as the other two withdrew their wands as well. She closed her eyes preparing to receive the worst curses she could imagine.
“Touch her again Malfoy and I’ll make you wish you had never been born,” Harry shouted. Hermione opened her eyes and exhaled slowly. Harry stood with his wand pointed at Malfoy’s back.
Draco looked startled.
“Drop your wands, NOW!” Harry yelled.
Nobody moved and Harry dug his wand into
Malfoy’s back.
“NOW!!” he yelled again. Malfoy nodded and the other two tucked their wands back into their robes. Malfoy lowered his own. Harry spun him around and pointed the tip of his wand at his face, “I swear if you ever touch her again, I’ll kill you.”
Malfoy glared at him for a second, then spun around, motioning for his cronies to follow him.
Hermione touched her face lightly, not looking at Harry. It still stung and she knew there must be a mark on her face.
Harry came close to her and touched her face lightly, “Are you alright?”
Hermione nodded, staring at the floor.
“Do you want me to get some ice?”
“No,” she mumbled, trying to slow her ragged breathing.
Harry tilted her chin so that they locked eyes, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
Hermione tried her best to sound collected, “I’m alright, really.” The way Harry looked at her and the way he touched her face, made her want to melt into his arms.
He stepped away, and seemingly recalled he was still mad at her. He spun around and continued toward the Room of Requirement.
For a second, Hermione actually believed they would start, at least, speaking to each other again. As she followed Harry, about twenty paces behind, she knew they were far from becoming more than friends again.
“Oh, good,” Lupin said happily as they Hermione entered, “You’re both here.”
Harry shook the Professor’s hand and Hermione gave him a quick hug. He smiled between them, happily.
“I just knew you two belonged together. It was no surprise when Albus asked me to start training the two of you.” As he said this he took both their hands and squeezed them gently, then he placed them together. Hermione looked at Harry, who stared at their joined hands. The minute Lupin turned around, Harry pulled his hand away from hers.
“Now, let’s get started,” Lupin said, taking a book off the table. It had the name ‘Concurrent Spells’ written in a metallic red across a light brown cover. Taking a seat in front of the couch, Lupin tapped the book twice and two copies of it appeared on the couch across from him. He motioned for the two to sit down in front of him, which they obeyed quickly.
Lupin smiled at them a little puzzled at their silence, he cleared his throat, “Okay, I think that for today, I’ll just give you a little background on concurrent spells, that is, spells that are best suited to be performed together to get the best results.”
Hermione and Harry flipped open the books still not saying a word. Lupin looked at them quizzically, but continued, “I also should point out that all spells that are performed by the both of you are going to have twice as much of an affect. Such as, if you both performed a stupefy curse, it could render someone unconscious for days. I would suggest not trying this on any friends, namely Ron. We will be practicing on a boggart.”
Harry finally spoke up, “Won’t the boggart become a dementor?”
“Really Harry, are you still afraid of dementors?” Lupin asked, surprised.
Harry thought for a second, “It’s not a good idea, it wouldn’t turn into Voldemort either, or any other death eater.”
“Really?” Lupin asked.
“Yes, my worst fear right now is for those around me,” Harry explained quietly, “I’m afraid to lose everyone I love.”
Silence followed until Lupin spoke again, “I will find something else then, Harry, I’m sorry.”
The lesson was simple. Professor Lupin had them read the first chapter about the background information of concurrent spells. He answered the few questions they had about the chapter, and then told them to practice together, on something small, until they met again in a week.
“Professor? How do we know what the other person’s spell is going to be?” Hermione asked as Lupin escorted them to the Gryffindor common room.
“Well, those that can perform spells of this nature also possess a sort of sixth sense. You will know what the other person is about to perform, just listen to your heart,” Lupin said.
They said goodbye to the Professor and went into the common room.