Chapter Seventeen: Through the Fog
Earlier that night, at approximately 7:15 p.m., Lily and James Potter’s old house in Godric’s Hollow
“Why would he be here, of all places?” Malfoy asked, an obvious note of bewilderment in his cold voice, “Are you completely sure you tracked the right person, Bella?”
Bellatrix smiled, “Of course I am. And, if things go as planned, we’ll have more than a corpse for our Master.”
“Of course,” breathed Mulciber, his eyes shining with malice, “There must be an important reason for his presence here. Perhaps something related to”“
“The Potter boy, yes,” Bellatrix finished impatiently, “Now, wait until he is inside and at a safe distance from the door before you lock it, Lucius. We’ll cast a Body-Bind on him before he even realizes what is happening.”
Malfoy nodded, edging closer to the door, brushing some dust off his robes. With a look of utter distaste, he surveyed the ruins of Lily and James Potter’s old house. It seemed as if it hadn’t been touched since that night when it all happened”when everything had changed. When the Dark Lord’s followers had been tested beyond measure…their loyalty was questioned, their devotion doubted by their own kind. They had been hunted, caught and sent to Azkaban without mercy, and only those clever enough to fool everyone had managed to save themselves.
Lucius had been one of those. It had been easy enough to say he never meant anything he did, that he was fooled, but in truth, what had saved him from jail were his connections with the Ministry. A few well-placed owls, and he had been guaranteed that he wouldn’t be sent to Azkaban. As easy as that.
His Master had, strangely enough, taken him back, even though he had been one of those that hadn’t gone to his aid. He never lost faith, of course, but he wasn’t about to go risking his life and his reputation looking for a wizard whose location was a mere rumor. He had other things to take care of, and, perhaps because the Dark Lord knew they would be of use in a near future, he had forgiven him.
Others hadn’t gotten it so easy. Some had gone to Azkaban”like the Lestranges”while others who managed to stay out of jail were punished by their Master at the moment he came back. Some rumored that the Dark Lord was biding his time and would seek revenge against him, but Lucius knew better. If he hadn’t been disposed of yet, it was because there was something important regarding him. Or perhaps he truly had earned the Dark Lord’s trust, if that was even possible.
The slight creak of the door broke Lucius from his thoughts. He turned his head sharply to look at the door, and watched quietly as Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped inside, cloak wrapped firmly around him. Kingsley’s tall frame froze for a moment as he turned to close the door, before the door creaked again and was shut with a small click.
Kingsley moved slowly across the room, taking a long time as he shrugged off his cloak. Lucius gritted his teeth, came to his feet in a sharp move, and whipped his wand at the door, muttering the Alohomora charm. At that same time, Bellatrix stepped from the shadows and attempted to cast a Body-Bind on Kingsley.
Kingsley, however, expected the attack, and his wand dropped into his hand from inside his sleeve. In a quick move, he dodged Bellatrix’s spell. Filled with a momentary confusion as to where, exactly, they would be standing, he listened closely to any movement, and heard something from the direction of the door. Pointing his wand near the door, he muttered, “Incarcerous.”
Malfoy managed to avoid the spell, lifting the Disillusionment charm and flashing a smirk in Kingsley’s direction, “Clever, Shacklebolt, but you will have to be quicker if you intend on actually cursing one of us.”
Kingsley remained silent, calculating, watching as two more figures emerged. Bellatrix laughed, “No way out of this, I’m afraid. The Dark Lord wants you dead, and we will gladly carry out his orders,” she said, her voice cold and barely above a whisper, as she toyed with her wand between her fingers.
“He will gain nothing from my death,” Kingsley said, his voice steady.
Mulciber smirked, “You are a threat to us. Dumbledore must be rid of spies in the Ministry; it doesn’t quite help us, you see. And of course, there is the reason for your being here…”
Kingsley laughed, “Too bad. He won’t be finding that out, as far as I’m concerned.”
Malfoy raised his wand, quickly uttering the incantation for the full body bind and watching in satisfaction as Kinsley’s body froze and fell, colliding heavily with the floor, “Surely you must be daft, Shacklebolt. What the Dark Lord wants, he gets.”
Bellatrix stepped forward, “Legilimens,” she hissed, keeping her gaze steady on Kingsley’s eyes. She was met, however, with complete blankness…peace of mind. She fought harder against his defenses, against his Occlumency training. A brick wall began to rise out of nowhere, and she knew she was slowly beating him. She began to kick at the wall, to push harder into his mind, and a small crack formed in the wall. It expanded quickly, until the wall itself shattered. Flashes came immediately before her”memories from his childhood, from the First War, flashes of his cubicle at the Ministry, Dumbledore, numerous scraps of parchment littered over a long table, a raven-haired woman, and, another flash of Dumbledore, clearly uttering the word ‘Potter’. She concentrated on that memory, fighting against his already weakened defenses, and saw the memory.
“He must be prepared for this, Kingsley. He will face it very soon indeed”“
“But Albus, at his parents’ house? It’s the boy’s first training session. Surely you cannot be serious. He will be weakened from being there in the first place,”
“Initially, yes. But he will be strengthened from the experience, and that is exactly what he needs. Voldemort will be aiming for his weaknesses, and his parents are one of those. He must learn to overcome his pain,”
Kingsley sighed, “At what time should I be there?”
“Eight. Preferably earlier, to straighten things up a tad,”
“Very well,”
Bellatrix came back to the present with a jolt, staggering backwards. Malfoy and Mulciber looked at her expectantly, “So? What did you see?” Malfoy asked impatiently.
“No time for that. For now, let us concentrate on what we came here for.”
Malfoy frowned momentarily, but nodded, “Fine, then,” he said angrily, fingering his wand and pointing it in Kingsley’s direction.
“Do it quickly. An Avada will do.”
Malfoy gritted his teeth in annoyance, “Fine. An Avada. Fine,” he hissed, taking a deep breath and flashing a nasty grin in Kingsley’s direction, “Night, Shacklebolt. Say hello to Rowen for me,” he added, enjoying the flash of anger that flared up in Kingsley’s eyes at the name, “Avada Kedavra!”
Kingsley’s eyes widened as the spell hit him, but he remained immobile, obviously dead.
9:11 p.m., Wednesday night, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Harry walked slowly, guiding Hermione through a narrow passageway behind a portrait on the second floor. They hadn’t spoken since they left Hogsmade, but he could feel the relaxation in her touch. She was much calmer than she had been back at Godric’s Hollow, and, to be honest, so was he.
Although being there had given him a small feeling of closeness to his parents, he couldn’t bear being there. Something in the atmosphere had seemed odd, and he felt anxious. Besides, his presence there and his gaze on the worn walls had only reawakened the pain he felt whenever he thought of his parents’ death.
Everything…the pendant, his room, Hermione’s worried eyes, the memories...it all made tension flare up inside him. He didn’t know what to feel. He just felt hopeless, like he could do nothing to better his situation or stop anything else from happening. He felt as if he were a pawn in his own life, as if he weren’t living it, as if he didn’t have any say in what was to happen. From the day Voldemort murdered his parents, he wasn’t able to decide anything that happened in his life. Everything he did seemed to be wrong…
“Harry?” Hermione said softly, “We...we’re here,” she released his hand and caressed the side of his face delicately, trying to draw his attention.
Harry glanced at the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore’s office, “I’m not sure I want to go in,” he said in a low voice, meeting her eyes.
“Why?”
“What do you think he’ll say to us, Hermione? I just…I don’t know. He probably won’t tell us everything we need to know, or he’ll give us an excuse.”
“Harry…I know you’re going through a painful time, after watching those memories and having that pendant in your hand. I know you feel like nothing’s okay, but…” she trailed off, biting her lip, “We need to hear what Dumbledore has to say,” she said in a lower voice, her tone uncertain, as if she too had somehow begin to doubt what Dumbledore may say to them.
Harry ran a hand through his hair, sighing. It wasn’t what excuse Dumbledore might give them. It was something more along the lines of…not really wanting to discuss what happened. Saying it out loud would make it all seem real again, would bring forth all the raw pain he thought he had forgotten. And, like with Sirius, no one would understand.
“Okay, fine,” Harry grunted suddenly, moving towards the gargoyle.
Hermione crossed her arms, giving him a puzzled look, “Harry, what”?”
Harry sighed, trying to level his voice so as to sound normal, “It’s okay, Hermione. I’m fine. Come on,” he added, beckoning her closer as he gave the gargoyle the password. It sprung aside, revealing the entrance, and they stepped forward, quiet as ever, not quite knowing what to say to each other.
Hermione knew well Harry was not okay. How could he be, after all? There was something bothering him, and although she knew better than to ask what it was, she felt as if she should be able to ease his pain. He had comforted her when she felt despaired, and cradled her in his arms when she cried, and she wanted to do the same for him. She wanted him to find solace, to let go of his pain, even if just for a small time again, and be happy. He deserved to.
She looked up at him, taking in the dark expression in his eyes as he stared upwards, not noticing her gaze on him. As she slowly raised her hand to cup his cheek, she felt her heart ache for him. She wanted to share his pain, if that would mean lessening its effect on him. As her hand made contact with his cold face, his eyes darted towards hers, his brow furrowing very slightly. She shook her head, already feeling herself near tears, and whispered softly:
“Harry, have you already forgotten what I told you back in Hogsmade? I’m here for you, whenever you feel like this. I want to help you, make you feel better. You don’t deserve to be like this,” she said, a small, sad smile on her face, “I love you, Harry, and I hate to see you hide your troubles. Please…you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. All you have to do…is keep me close, lose yourself in my words, and look for me when you’re feeling like this.”
Harry looked back at her, his expression now one of slight confusion, and nodded silently, just as they reached the landing. They stepped off the staircase, still gazing at each other, and Hermione hugged him, her arms curling around his middle and her head rested on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, as well, inclining his head forward towards her head, inhaling the soft smell of her.
They pulled back, smiled at each other, and moved towards the door, Harry stretching his hand out to knock, when Hermione held him back. Holding her index finger up to he lips, she leant closer to the door, listening. Harry imitated her gesture, and slowly, he began to hear the vaguely muffled sounds of conversation.
“…we’re just going in circles, here, Albus. Honestly, I’m worried out of my mind for his sake and mine. There has to be something we can do,” the unmistakable voice of Professor Trewlaney spoke, her tone impatient and anxious. Harry and Hermione exchanged a puzzled frown, before directing their attentions back to the conversation.
“I understand how you feel, Sibyll. Believe me, I am trying my best to find a way to retrieve Wormtail without placing any of the Order in danger, but I am finding that impossible. He must already be in Voldemort’s presence, and it would be murder to attempt saving him, especially now that Severus has been discovered.”
Snape spoke next, “And, in all honestly, the coward’s death has been postponed for much too long. Out of sheer luck and casualty has he managed to remain alive for these years. He will be no loss.”
“Oh, I have no doubt about that, Snape, but do note that he’s heard the prophecy!” Sibyll spat, her voice quivering with anger, “Voldemort must have already seen his memories from the past few days. If anything, he’s probably dead by now.” she added.
“Then why are we still discussing him? There are far more pressing matter s at hand,” Severus snapped.
“Enough,” came Dumbledore’s voice, “I would trust you both to keep a civil attitude towards each other for the remainder of this meeting, as you know how crucial time is. We have many things to discuss, and I’m afraid not all the time we need.”
Harry looked at Hermione and asked, in voice barely above a whisper, “Should we go inside now?”
Hermione nodded, her hair falling over her shoulders and obscuring her face from view. Despite this, Harry could vividly see the concentrated look on her face as she processed what they had heard and attempted to connect it with all that had happened over the last few days. She stood up straight, and calmly stretched her hand out to open the door without knocking. Harry jerked his hand out to stop her, but she insisted, “If we knock, Snape and Trewlaney will leave.”
Harry hesitated, but released her hand, nodding. Hermione twisted the doorknob, and pushed the door open, the voices immediately quieting. As they stepped inside, all eyes were on them”Trewlaney, wide-eyed surprise; Snape, annoyance and what appeared to be outrage; and Dumbledore, polite confusion, a slight worry in his eyes.
“Potter!” Snape hissed, recovering from the shock, “This is a private conversation! Get out this instant!” He looked rather purple, a vein throbbing in his temple, and Harry was vaguely reminded of the time he had seen his memories in the Pensieve.
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore cut him off, raising his hand. The twinkle barely visible in his eyes, he asked, “Harry, why are you not at training?”
“I…Kingsley wasn’t there,”
His statement was met by a stunned silence. Knowing he now had their full attention, he began to explain, from the start, what had happened. As he spoke, Snape met his eyes with a skeptical look, as if he thought he was making everything up as an elaborate excuse. Dumbledore and Trewlaney, however, looked at him intently with grimly intrigued looks, their eyes fixed upon him.
Hermione stood by his side, feeling slightly uncomfortable. As she heard what Harry said, it all seemed like a distant dream, something of which she remembered vague details, and her feelings throughout it. It wasn’t as if she didn’t remember anything, of course, it was just…hearing it said out loud was so different, so real. As if all this time, she had unconsciously been wishing this had all been a dream.
Distantly, she began thinking again, gears turning in her head. Harry’s voice began to fade, until the only thing she could hear were her thoughts.
Apparently, Wormtail had disappeared from somewhere, and was now back with Voldemort, which implied that he hadn’t been there to begin with. Trewlaney seemed to be involved, somehow, which might mean that he had been with her, for some reason.
She had no clue how Snape fitted into all of this, but according to what she’d just heard, his identity had been discovered. ‘Identity’ would refer to him being a spy for Dumbledore. That he had been discovered meant that the Order would be unable to know exactly what Voldemort was planning.
Additionally, they had spoken of a prophecy, and she had a sneaking suspicion it was that she had heard recently”Honestly, prophecies aren’t made my dozens.
She failed to see how everything that had happened in Godric’s Hollow went with all of this, however. It could be that it happened out of pure casualty, but tied in with this somehow later. It could be a direct consequence of this whole mess, or maybe”
A small nudge on her arm brought her from her thoughts to the present, where Harry had stopped speaking, and Dumbledore, Trewlaney and Snape were looking at him with expectant expressions.
“Do you have the pendant with you, Harry?”
Hermione realized what she wanted him to do, and immediately cleared her throat, “Professor, why did you send us there, to Godric’s Hollow, of all places?”
Dumbledore’s eyes darted from Harry to Hermione, a vague look of surprise in his eyes, as if he had barely registered she was there. There was a tense moment of silence after her question, before he spoke, his voice weary, “I know that Harry feels pain for the loss of his parents. It is normal, of course, that Voldemort would attempt to use that against him. I thought that by sending you there to train, he would be strengthened from his experience, and would eventually learn to overcome his pain.”
Harry nodded, as if he expected such an answer, “But what about Kingsley?”
“That is precisely what both puzzles and worries me the most. He had contacted me at approximately twenty minutes past seven, informing me that he was already there making sure the environment was safe for your training. It was a note, signed by him, and sent using the phoenix feather all Order members keep for communication purposes.”
Silence met his words as everyone pondered on this. Was it possible that something had happened to Kingsley after he sent the letter? Or what if the letter was faked, somehow? It sounded ridiculous, but something odd had obviously happened.
“Harry,” Dumbledore said again, “Do you have the pendant with you?”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about it?” Harry asked, fighting with himself to keep his voice level, “Why did you have to make me got there and find it all out all of a sudden?”
Dumbledore sighed, “I was never sure it survived the attack, or if Lily used it. When several people and I went to check the house, after it all happened, there was nothing there, but ruins. The pendant must have fallen under the floorboards”a place we never thought necessary to check. We merely assumed she hadn’t used it, and that it had been entirely her dying for you that had saved you,” he paused, fixing him with a pained stare, “Apparently, it was not.”
Harry stood stock still, glaring, “So…you didn’t lie,” it wasn’t a question, really. It was more along the lines of a comment to himself, a reassurance, “You never intended on me finding it?”
Dumbledore shook his head, “I did not know it still existed, Harry. My only purpose in sending you there tonight was that you would find strength in your weakness,” he sighed, “But it appears that sending you there was not the best thing to do. Please, sit down, both of you. We all have much to discuss.”
Snape made a noise of incredulousness, turning to Dumbledore, “Albus, what need have they to know everything? We cannot keep informing others of what is happening. It is a liability to”“
“I do not intend on having them know everything. Merely…what they need to know,” Dumbledore said, his voice carrying a note of finality, clearly denoting that he wouldn’t change his mind, “Now,” he said, turning to Harry and Hermione, who had sat on two chairs that had seemingly appeared there when he had asked them to sit, “Let us start from the beginning, shall we? From Professor Trewlaney’s disappearance…”
10:03 p.m., Friday night, Hogwarts Grounds
“Harry,” Hermione said, laughing, “What in the world are you doing? Where are we going?” They were walking slowly, a cloth covering Hermione’s eyes as Harry guided her carefully outside. He smiled at her incessant questions, leaning forward to whisper in her ear.
“You’ll see. This is out night, Hermione. Nothing will interrupt us. I reckon we need this time alone after this week,” he said, and kissed her neck softly. She remained silent, a contented smile on her lips as she turned her face in Harry’s direction and attempted to kiss his lips, instead kissing him somewhere along his jaw line. Harry chuckled, and continued to lead her to where he wanted to take her.
He really didn’t have much planned, exactly. In fact, he didn’t have anything planned except the place where they were going. But he knew it wouldn’t matter to her. He hoped so, anyway.
“Mmm…Harry? Are we outside?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, grinning.
“Why are you taking me outside?” Hermione asked, also grinning. She raised her hand to touch Harry’s, which rested on her shoulder, and caressed it softly as he guided her along the grass.
“You’ll see,” Harry said absentmindedly as he felt her hand on his, “Remember on Monday? I’d promised we’d go to a ‘secret’ place near the lake?” she thought for a moment, then nodded. As he steered her towards the lake, Harry smiled, “Well, that’s where I’m taking you.”
“Should be fun,” Hermione said, inclining her head backwards and smiling up at him. She loved how this night was going. It was all so romantic, so wonderful. So very much like the way she had wanted their relationship to be from the start, but knew it couldn’t be so, “But you’re sure there won’t be more people, right?” she added, stroking his hand with her fingers.
“Eager to get me alone, are you?” Harry teased, lowering his hands from her shoulders to her middle and squeezed her sides gently.
Hermione laughed softly, “Who can blame me?” she said, and, if she hadn’t had a blindfold on, she would have winked at him.
They continued with their light conversation all the way to the lake, and didn’t think once about the things that had been constantly haunting their minds since Wednesday. Back in Dumbledore’s office, everything had been cleared up”why Trewlaney had disappeared, how she came to collaborate with Wormtail, and why Snape was helping them, among other things. Having the mystery cleared up took a great deal off their shoulders, and instead of dwelling on that, they had come to place it at the back of their minds, to be forgotten whilst they thought of another matter. Something that both worried and excited them.
They were to meet a friend of Dumbledore’s that lived in Ireland. This man, who went by the name of Fabrice Dupont, was a French craftsman, and just so happened to have been the person who made the amulet James gave to Lily. Dumbledore had deemed it necessary to pay him a visit when they tested the amulet in is office, Harry holding it and Hermione casting a tentative Jelly-Legs jinx on him, and the amulet hadn’t protected him.
Dumbledore didn’t know why, exactly, the amulet didn’t work. He explained that Fabrice sometimes made the amulets specific”meaning that they only responded to certain dangers”and that that might be what was causing the amulet to fail against a Jelly-Legs hex. There was no way of being sure, he explained, without actually casting spells that might harm Harry, or throwing him into a duel, so they would have to pay Fabrice a visit. They would go with Remus, Elphias Doge, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, and Hestia Jones.
Harry’s initial reaction was surprise. He would have thought that Dumbledore wouldn’t risk them going out of the castle in such circumstances. Then, he’d shrugged to himself, thinking that they would probably Floo or Apparate directly to the house. It wasn’t like they were going to fly there. And then, he’d become excited for the trip. They would be out of Hogwarts, if just for a small time, and, possibly, he would be able to both relax and enjoy himself.
Hermione had been fighting with her own emotions towards the trip, a part of her thinking it was horribly dangerous to travel when they were so close to the Final Battle, in the middle of a War between Dumbledore’s lot, Voldemort’s followers, and those who chose no side. Everyday more murders surfaced, everyday more disappearances were reported, and everyday the Muggles became more confused and suspicious. It just wasn’t safe.
Then another part of her argued that they would probably Apparate there, or Floo at the least. They would be there in seconds, so how could any harm come to them? Uncertainly, she reasoned that the trip wouldn’t be so bad; she would be with Harry (under the watch of no less than five adults, yes, but still), and Ireland was really a lovely place. It would be nice to go there.
And with that, they had agreed to go, and the trip hadn’t left their minds since.
Until now, of course.
“We’re here,” Harry declared, untying the cloth from Hermione’s eyes and revealing the sight before them. By Hermione’s soft gasp, he knew she loved it.
“Oh, Harry…it’s beautiful,” she said softly, taking a few steps closer to it.
They were at a part of the lake opposite to the one they always visited, though it seemed like a completely different lake altogether. Very large trees on either side, some of their branches so long they almost touched the water, flanked it. The water itself seemed to have an eerily beautiful sort of glow, as if it were frozen ice. But what was most captivating about the sight were the small bits of light that seemed to be flying slowly around the trees, pausing on the branches and forming large clusters, before scattering. They glowed in different colors, sometimes pink, other times orange, and most of the time, green. As they walked closer, they seemed to sense their presence, and began to circle them as well, sometimes pausing in their hair or shoulders.
As Hermione looked around her in awe, a though occurred to her, “Oh, these are fairies, aren’t they?” she asked, a smile spreading across her lips.
Harry nodded, “Either that, or something along those lines.”
Hermione turned to him, her round, entrancing brown eyes locking on his. For a split second, Harry thought back to the first days of their relationship, when the weight of the world seemed to be on their shoulders and this happiness, this peace, this togetherness, seemed to be so very far away. He remembered the worry in her eyes, so clear, so painful to watch, and how much it contrasted with her current expression, delight etched into her features, her eyes misty and shining with contentedness. As she raised her hand to his shoulders, tracing a line from there to his neck, he remembered how once, all he was able to do was long for her touch, her breath in his ear as she spoke, her body close to his, thinking he could never have that. As she stood on tiptoe and leant forward close to him, he surveyed her soft smile of mingled mischievousness and timidity with a smile of his own, his mind going completely blank.
“I love you, Harry,” she whispered, her voice a caress to his ears.
As she leant forward towards his lips, he placed his right hand on her waist and raised his left hand to her mouth, placing two fingers on her lips to stop her. She frowned, then looked up at him playfully, her eyes questioning.
“I love you more,” he declared, and she pursed her lips playfully, rolling her eyes. She used her free hand to hold his hand away from her mouth, and gently leant forward again, this time capturing his mouth with her lips. He released his hand from her grip and buried it in her hair, holding soft wisps of it between his fingers. Her free hand rose to his shoulders, pulling him closer to her, pressing them together. Their lips parted as Harry began to plant small kisses along her jaw line and down her neck, encouraged by the soft sounds Hermione made. She began to tug off her robe herself, and, in mild surprise, Harry helped her. As the robe fell to the ground in a heap, Harry began to unbutton Hermione’s shirt…
First button”nothing happened…second button”Hermione resumed he fervent kissing…third button”she ran her hands along his shoulders and back…fourth button”he thought he heard her moan softly as his hand slipped inside her shirt…and then, at the fifth button, she stopped kissing him, a look of surprise in her eyes.
“I...we…we can’t,” she mumbled, pulling away and re-buttoning her shirt, “I’m such an idiot for doing this.”
Harry shook his head, “No…I understand, I’m sorry. I just…I get carried away,” he ran a hand through his hair, feeling faintly worried now. He suddenly realized that they were alone, by the lake, safely hidden, and worried slightly, hoping she didn’t think he’d somehow planned this to go a certain way.
“No, I mean…well, I don’t know what I mean,” she finished, sighing and shaking her head, “Come on, let’s sit down under the trees. We can talk,” she knelt on the ground for a moment, grabbing her robe and slipping it on, before walking to a tree packed with the fairy-like lights.
He walked behind her and sat down, staring at his fingers. She was looking around at the trees, a mildly curious expression on her face. She then turned to him, waved a hand in front of his face to get his attention, and smiled, “How did you find this place?” she asked, pausing for a moment, as if she wanted to add something else, “A…romantic adventure, perhaps?” she added teasingly, and Harry felt himself redden.
“Well…no, not technically,”
Hermione stared at him, her smile fading slightly, until she saw the playful grin on his face, “Oh, you liar,” she said, a small trace of laughter in her voice, “You had me worried for a moment there, wondering what I’d gotten myself into.”
He laughed, “No, but really. Fred and George told me about it. Seems that they had their fair share of…adventures here.”
“What were you talking about that brought them to telling you that?” Hermione asked curiously, turning on the grass so that she was facing him.
“I…well, I don’t know. I think I was writing you a letter.”
A blush crept to Hermione’s cheeks, “Funny, that you followed their advice,” she commented, staring up at the starry sky, “Their shop is going really well, you know? Ron got a letter from them back in February,” the words had slipped out before she could keep them in, Ron’s name slipping right out. Her eyes widened momentarily and her frame tensing, deciding to wait and see how Harry reacted. He might not have noticed, after all.
“Yeah?” Harry said, noticing both her mention of Ron and the way she reacted. He decided not to say anything regarding that, hoping she’d go along.
Hermione felt relieved when Harry didn’t comment, and so continued, her frame relaxing, “Uh-huh. And it looks like Hogwarts students are randomly receiving fliers advertising their shop, and exhorting them to buy stuff by Owl Order. I got one the other day, too…I keep forgetting to ask Dumbledore if that’s legal.”
Harry laughed, shaking his head, “It probably is. And if it isn’t, Dumbledore won’t do anything about it. It doesn’t bother anyone.”
“Of course they do! Listen, the other day…”
As they continued in their happy banter, Harry couldn’t keep her eyes off Hermione. The way her hair fell gracefully over her shoulders, soft curls framing her face; the way her eyes shone with passion as she argued over something, an occasional flash of annoyance or merriment appearing; the way she gestured with her hands when she wanted to make a point, and, of course, the way she looked at him when he suggested they go for a swim.
“What?” she asked incredulously, her mouth curling into an irrepressible smile, her cheeks flushing bright red, and her eyes going round.
“I’m serious,” Harry said, grinning, “You can…err…conjure another shirt?” he suggested tentatively, not knowing how to phrase his idea better.
Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly, a flash of determination in her eyes, “No, I’m fine. Let’s go, then,” she said offhandedly, standing up and walking towards the edge of the lake. She kicked off her shoes and socks, keeping her robe tightly wrapped around her. Harry remained sitting where he was, staring confusedly at her. She turned, grinning broadly, “Having second thoughts? The water’s too cold for you?” she teased, her feet coming in contact with the water. She suppressed a shiver; it really was quite cold, and walked further into the water, eventually submerging herself in it completely.
Harry stood up, kicked his shoes and socks off, and placed them neatly beside Hermione’s before wading into the water as well.
Hermione emerged, taking a deep gulp of air, her hair completely soaked, and looked over at him, “I’ll race you to the other side,” she challenged suddenly, her voice breathless.
Harry grinned, “You sure? I’ve longer legs.”
“And I’ve other tricks up my sleeve.”
“And what are those?”
Hermione shrugged, making her way towards him slowly. She slipped her robe off, letting it float in the water, and twined her arms around Harry’s neck, pulling him into a passionate embrace. They stayed that way for a while, until she pulled away abruptly and submerged herself in the water. When she emerged again, she was several feet away, in the direction of the other side of the lake.
“Ha!” she said, waving at him playfully and submerging herself in the water again.
“Hey, that’s not fair, Hermione!” Harry called after her, before he, too, pulled his robe off and began swimming towards the other side of the lake, registering vaguely how nice it was to be carelessly laughing and joking around with Hermione.
No thoughts about what others might think or say.
No worries about Voldemort or Death Eaters.
No anxiousness about what might happen.
Just…blissful happiness; the kind that never lasted, but you always wished it would, with all your heart, with all your soul.
A/N: No, you are not dreaming. Alas, I have updated! =D
Okay, so, I wanted to ask you all something. For next chapter, I have a bit with Voldy and the DE planned, and then it's off to Easter. But I have a slight problem...when exactly is Easter in Britain? Like, lin the last week of March or something? And how long does it last? Where I left off this chapter, by the way, it is Friday, March 10th. I'd really appreciate it if someone could give me a hand on this!
And another, not so important matter--I wrote a D/G one-shot, Sweet Misery, so if you're bored or are into that ship, do check it out! * coughreviewcough * =) Lol.
So...till the next!