He sensed her presence before she became visible. His stomach clenched with reluctance. It’s not that Harry was upset with Hermione. It wasn’t her fault she wasn’t there for the attack, to help or to console. He wasn’t quite sure why he felt she should have been, though. Perhaps it was a general annoyance at her slow descent over the last few months. Whatever it was, Harry did not feel like talking just as he’d found some peace in the courtyard.
“What are you doing up here?” she asked lightly, placing herself beside him on the stone bench.
“Sitting.”
“I can see that. Everyone else is down by the lake. Why don’t you come?” She eyed him in a sympathetic manner.
“I’m not going because everyone is down there.” He glared at the ground because he was afraid of turning it on his friend. He wasn’t happy with her, and he wanted her to know that, but he didn’t care for the backlash of her reciprocation.
She sighed and leaned back on the pads of her hands. As she blew a gush of air from her lungs, she watched it steam and curl. It was still February. The month was surely never-ending. “It’s a bit chilly, isn’t it?”
“It’s winter.”
He could feel her trying to restrain her frustration at his lack of personable conversation. Why was she bothering? All he wanted was to be alone with an empty mind. Instead, she came along for some mysterious reason, determined to shatter the kind silence surrounding him.
“So I saw you and Ron got a letter today. Is Mrs. Weasley is all right?”
“I don’t think ‘all right’ is really right. She’s walking with a cane. Fred and George only just got back to normal.”
“Were their minds . . .?”
“Damaged? A bit,” he replied bitterly. What did she care? She’d been lost in her own little world for ages! “They’re mostly normal, now.”
Hermione tried to giggle, but spotted the scowl embedded in her dark-haired friend’s face, and the smile quickly faded from hers. She bit the inside of her lip and opened her mouth to speak. Yet, nothing came out. After a couple more tries, she managed to say, “I’m sorry.”
Harry snorted. “About what?”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you. I’m sorry I stayed away all holiday “ “
“I thought you were with your parents?” he interrupted with more than a hint of skepticism.
“I was!” she asserted. “I just . . . needed a break from . . . from everyone, I suppose.”
Harry rolled his eyes quite obviously. “No. You just had some mad thing going on for months, and didn’t see any reason to tell us about it. Then you ignored all of us, and hid away.”
“I did not hide away!” she hissed.
“How do you explain how you ran off when you were about to leave for holiday, then? You just up and ran away. You could have been nicer to Ron, you know!”
“It was too hard talking to him!”
“You would know. It’s not like you tried.”
“I did try, every day! But then I always knew I was going to say something wrong, and really make things worse!” Her tone took on a higher pitch. “And this isn’t just about me. You’ve been leaving us all out ever since “ “
“Don’t say it.”
She paused a moment to consider, and continued with a gentler tone. “You only just told Ron and Ginny the prophecy.”
“So? It was about me. It was my information to share or not.”
“But we’re your friends. If one of us has some type of fate, I would expect for us all to share it and bear it together.”
“Why? It’s mine alone. I don’t remember hearing that there were others involved. Only I can kill him. Which would be fantastic if I had any idea what the hell I’m doing.”
“I know. Ron told me.”
Harry shot her a frightening grin. “Yeah. I figured they would. You and Ron all cozy then? It took a great gash in his cheek for you to stop being a “ “
“Harry! Just stop it! Stop it!” She rose quickly to her feet, her cloak spinning with her as she hovered over his bent head. “I have always been by your side! I have always helped you, no matter if it was wrong . . . or- or stupid. Or dangerous! I’ve been left out, ignored, and stepped-on all term, and I got tired of it, okay? For a moment . . . just a moment, I wanted out. I’ve said it. I wanted out!” She stopped her foot for emphasis, her arms stiff by her sides.
Harry felt her hovering directly over him, and only felt anger welling up inside. Yet, something she’d said stood out to him. ‘I wanted out.’ It was the same thing that had been playing like a Muggle record in the background of every room. It was in the Great Hall. It was in the Dungeons. It was even hovering just over Dumbledore’s head.
“Welcome to the club, Hermione,” he said in a husky lilt.
He didn’t feel it at first, but soon, Hermione’s arms found themselves around his neck as she pulled him into a tight embrace. It seemed foreign at first, but for some reason, it was good enough to melt most of the anger he held for her . . . at her.
She said something that was horribly muffled.
“What?”
She pulled away, and returned to the bench. “I said . . . I didn’t mean to learn Occlumency . . . that fast.” She’d only begun taking lessons with him right before holiday, and yet, she’d made a comparatively quick climb. She was at the supreme level as Harry. He’d seen her up late at night, seemingly meditating. A hard rock embedded itself into his heart as he thought of what he was bringing upon his friends . . . and what they chose to bear. They seemed to be more than friends to willingly do so much for him. They were more like soul mates. Their lives and destinies were intertwined with hate and love.
Yet it still bit at him that she hadn’t taken long to learn.
“You didn’t learn yet. You’re not done training.”
“But . . . I’m already up to your level. I can block somewhat minor intrusions!” she beamed at Harry’s perturbed frown. “Now don’t get all sore on me. The sooner we both learn it, the sooner I can tell you what I’ve learned.”
“What you’ve learned?”
“Well yes. Didn’t you hear me when I said I’d gotten most of the parchment translated? It was loads of work. After all, not even Muggle Translators by profession have figured it out yet. It’s quite interesting really. Did you know that in the “ oh, wait. Nevermind.”
“What?” he asked exasperatedly. How could she begin and not finish?
“We need more practice,” Hermione said succinctly, and left it at that.
“So, Harry, I know it’s Valentine’s Day and all, but would it be all right if I spent a bit of time with McKee in Hogsmeade?”
“Why would you want to?” snarled Ron, before Hermione elbowed him with a smile.
Harry couldn’t really explain it, but somehow, the walls between them all had broken down ever since they came back from holiday. Ron no longer glared at him and Ginny when they held hands for a moment. Nor did his eyes hold the same sullen matte as they did before Christmas. While some Weasleys lay in their beds, slowly healing, somehow the bonds that had been snapped between the young friends were growing together again like bone.
He felt terrible for lashing out at Hermione when she spoke to him the weekend prior. He’d been so miserable about bringing harm to them . . . to all of them “ potential and real. It was so easy to be angry with her, because she’d been so absent. Now, as he looked around, watching his anger fly out of the tall windows of the Great Hall, he was struck with a familiar sensation. He was content. If only they weren’t in a war. If only . . . If only that damned music would stop playing!
“What?” he snapped at Ginny, who’d just repeated her question.
“Don’t you get huffy with me! I only asked if that was all right with you.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know what you see in her.”
“I think you would if you got to know her,” she said with a sarcastically sweet smirk.
“She sat with us every meal for weeks. Don’t you think that’s enough time?”
“No . . . stupid Snape . . . prat,” she grumbled, along with other choice phrases while stabbing at the food on her plate. Harry guessed this was because Snape threw a fuss about McKee sitting at their table. Something was said about her breaking school traditions. Either way, Harry didn’t care, so long as she was gone.
The music swayed through the corners of his brain. It was odd, having some sort of wonky theme music in his brain. At least if everyone else could hear it, he wouldn’t look like the idiot humming his own theme song.
“Harry? Can you pay attention for two minutes?” Ginny screeched.
Sometimes, the similarities between Ginny and her mother were appalling, not to mention crippling. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like hanging around a tiny Mrs. Weasley . . . on this particular day. “Erm, yeah. Go ahead. I’ll see you later.”
“Great!” She jumped from her seat and gave him a peck on the cheek before dashing over to the Slytherin table. Harry nearly snorted his drink out his nose when he saw the blatant manner in which she tottered, with exaggerated hip movements. Snape saw no humor and glared at her from the staff table.
“Oi, Harry . . .”
“What?” he asked, looking back at Ron, who seemed to be looking at something just over Harry’s shoulder.
“About that Ginny bit, forget I said anything. Deal?”
“Deal,” he grinned, and both dug into their meals with unrestrained vigor.
Hermione spent a moment glancing between them with confusion written in every turn. “Wait one minute. It took you both this long to stop fighting over that?”
Harry gave her an odd look. “No,” he said as if she were mad.
“You both need counseling.”
Professor Lupin appeared from over Hermione’s shoulder. “Good morning, everyone! Harry, I wanted to commend you on your successful banishment of the Pincahote a few days ago. I am quite sure it will be scratching its wounds for quite some time.”
“Too bad it can’t lick, really,” Ron twitched at the image he’d created.
Remus Lupin gazed at the small group staring up at him speechlessly. Hermione looked as if she wanted to pout. “Oh! And you two did a wonderful job as well.” He smiled benignly. He looked a bit left and right, searching for potential eavesdroppers. He sidled over to a third year who was altogether too thoroughly enjoying his sausage.
“Hello, young man. I believe that pretty Ravenclaw girl, just over there,” he pointed, “is motioning for you to come over.”
The curly-haired youth bounded over to where Lupin pointed, and was greeted with a polite smile and a sideways grimace.
“Right, now that’s done.” Remus straddled the bench next to Harry and leaned in. “I’ve heard about your Occlumency lessons. Simply superb!” he beamed in proud acknowledgment. “You both can block intrusions. That is truly, truly fantastic.”
Harry frowned. “Well, I can only block small intrusions. If Dumbledore wanted to, he could get in.”
“But it’s not like he can just sashay in, you know. You can block him,” mentioned Ron.
“And Harry, he is one of the most powerful wizards in our day. No one expects you to be able to come out on top of him,” Hermione pointed out kindly.
Harry glowered, “Oh no, because it’s not as if I’m expected to beat out another of the most powerful wizards of our age or anything.” Sarcasm gave him a very satisfied feeling.
Lupin clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You will only get better, I can assure you.” He stood and gave Hermione a wink. “I believe the time is about right . . . if you take care.”
Her eyes grew large beneath stray curls and she nodded fervently.
“What do you mean? Time for what?”
“Oh, this will be great!” Ron whooped.