Harry was taken aback by this frosty greeting. He could rationalize why Ron disliked him at the moment, but Hermione? What’d he done to her?
“Er . . . something the matter?” Harry asked, unable to think of anything smarter to say.
Coolly, Hermione looked up from her book, snapping its heavy cover shut before addressing Harry. “Look, we may have to work together, but that doesn’t mean I like you, Potter. I don’t care if you’ve been trying to be nice to me to my face “you think I could ever forgive you for bewitching me, making me look like a fool in front of the entire school? I should think not,” she said stiffly, turning away from him to read again, now determinedly ignoring him.
Frankly, this stunned him a bit. Why would Harry ever humiliate Hermione? But then, it was obvious they weren’t friends here “maybe Harry had inherited the Marauder genes, and had gone too far on a prank. But from what he gathered from living with the Potters, Violet had actually been the one more prone to playing pranks on people, not Harry. Besides, whether this place’s Harry was anything like him, he doubted he could ever do something as mean as Hermione was suggesting to someone unless they really deserved it.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel hurt by Hermione’s reaction to him. That made two best friends down on his count. Great, just bloody lovely, Harry thought dryly, sitting down on the seat opposite Hermione, It would have been wonderful to have Hermione’s help on trying to get me home. Both her brains and familiar presence would have made things easier.
From the looks of things, he’d have to start from the bottom to repair whatever damage there was to his relationship with Ron and Hermione. He needed to get the two people he trusted the most to help him.
It was funny; when they had told him that they were going to help him find the Horcruxes, Harry hadn’t wanted them to go at all in fear for their safety;, yet now, when he didn’t have their support, he found himself seeking the friendship that had kept him grounded and sane through everything that had happened to him these past six years.
Better start at square one, then.
“I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said.
“So I’ve heard. I’m trying to read, Potter.”
Harry held in a frustrated groan. Merlin, he didn’t even know what he did to deserve all this hostility. The situation was really starting to piss him off “his friends, minus Ginny, hated him, there was hardly any information on anything useful, and going home didn’t seem like a very probable option at the moment, considering he still didn’t know where the bloody hell he was!
He bit his lip, knowing it’d be far too suspicious if he asked Hermione what exactly he’d done “being the brilliant witch that she was, she’d probably figure out something was wrong in the first five seconds, and Harry couldn’t afford her finding out if she wasn’t his friend, someone he could trust with the secret.
Instead, Harry slumped lower in his seat, brooding.
A few minutes later, a girl slid the compartment doors open. She didn’t even have to say anything; Hermione seemed to know exactly what was happening, because she closed her thick book, got up, and trailed behind the girl. Harry quickly followed her lead, determined to try and use this position to his advantage. After all, the Head Boy ought to be privy to information that the student body wasn’t, right?
Oh well, at least he’d actually be doing something “plus, the Head Boy and Girl have to do a lot of things together, right? Set schedules and all that? Perhaps he could slowly gain Hermione back as a friend, or at least try to coax some information out of her about Harry’s standing in Hogwarts. Find out who he can trust, what was going on, etc.
Harry grinned, realizing that one positive aspect of all this was that he was no longer a celebrity, the famous Boy-Who-Lived.
The corners of his mouth suddenly fell, realizing that it was now Neville “shy, self-conscious, unconfident Neville“ who bore that title. Harry made a note in the back of his mind to seek him out. Out of everyone, out of all the friends and teachers Harry wanted to talk to, Neville was at the top of his list, a necessity, considering that he was technically in Harry’s shoes. He remembered with a tinge of nostalgia the adventures he, Ron, and Hermione had experienced throughout their years together.
But knowing Neville, did he even have friends to help carry him through everything?
“Potter, will you pay attention?” Hermione’s exasperated voice broke him out of his reverie.
Harry blinked. “What?”
“Sorry,” he added after seeing Hermione glare at him. It didn’t have much of an effect; he’d already been subjected to it on various occasions for the past six years.
Several of the younger prefects sniggered at seeing the Head Boy get snapped at by the Head Girl.
“We were talking about the passwords,” Hermione explained, not bothering to hide her irritation.
“Er “okay then; what are they?”
Hermione didn’t even have to glance at the prompt she’d been given. “‘Wronski Feint’ for Gryffindor, ‘Abracadabra’ for Ravenclaw, ‘Hippogriff’ for Hufflepuff, and ‘Pure’ for Slytherin. Got it?”
Harry nodded, making sure that he paid more attention as the meeting went on. But really, as time progressed, Harry couldn’t see any reason for his momentary jealousy fifth year when Ron had received the Prefect badge instead of him. It was tedious work “it took much of Harry’s will and respect to his world’s Hermione to keep him from nodding off, especially since he had more important things he could be doing.
Finally, it was over. Thank Merlin, Harry thought silently, allowing himself a sigh of relief. Hermione motioned for Harry to follow her back to the Head compartment, where they started drawing up schedules for the corridor patrols. Harry decided immediately that this was nothing more than distracting busywork . . . however, it did give him an opportunity to try and become friends with Hermione again.
“So . . . how was your summer?” Harry asked, recognizing how lame it had sounded as he gave Pansy Parkinson double Astronomy tower patrol.
Hermione didn’t even look up. “It was fine.”
“How was yours?” she added after a long pause of consideration.
“Eventful,” he said vaguely. “Did you go to France again?” Harry winced inwardly when he realized his mistake.
“Yes, actually “how’d you know that?” Hermione asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed.
“Heard it around,” Harry answered, waving his hand dismissively.
Hermione pursed her lips, but let it go. “Did you hear about the Diagon Alley attack?”
Grimacing at the memory of Padma’s glazed eyes, Harry nodded. “I was there.” Pleased as he was that Hermione was responding to Harry’s attempts, he’d rather not think about what had occurred that day.
But Hermione’s curiosity was peaked. “You were there? Are you okay?” There was an edge of concern in her tone that broke the frost that had previously occupied it.
Harry nodded. “Yeah, my sister and I had to fight them.” My sister and I . . . he was really starting to get attached, wasn’t he?
“You “you fought the Death Eaters?” Hermione asked incredulously, reluctant respect creeping into her eyes.
Once again, Harry nodded, though his thoughts were on Parvati’s bleeding body, Malfoy’s shaking hands. If only that git had given them some information! Then, at least Padma wouldn’t have died for nothing.
“We should probably finish the schedule,” Harry muttered, not meeting Hermione’s eyes. To help quench his thirst for vindication, Harry added a third Astronomy tower patrol to Pansy’s schedule.
“Hang on,” Hermione snapped, snatching the quill out of Harry’s hands. “You don’t get to suddenly decide to start a reconciliation and leave it like that. I think I deserve to know. I’ve been trying to read up on what happened, but the Daily Prophet hardly even mentioned it!”
Harry snorted. Since when did the Daily Prophet ever properly report things solely based on truth? Load of bull, most of it was, as swayable as a branch in the wind. Though he would rather not feel the guilty churn in his stomach for not reaching Padma earlier, Harry knew that this, perhaps, would help Hermione trust him, or at the very least help her not hold him in such contempt.
“You know the Patil twins?” Harry asked, keeping his voice even.
Hermione nodded. At this, Harry continued monotonously, “Padma died, and Parvati was badly hurt from a nasty spell; she’s okay now, I think she’s coming back to Hogwarts. We found them and brought them to the Aurors.”
The compartment was completely silent, save for the rumbling of contact between the Express and its train tracks.
“Merlin,” Hermione whispered finally. “Why?”
Harry shrugged. “Dunno. We know that Voldemort “don’t flinch“ had a reason for being there, but nobody knows why.”
Hermione’s eyes were wide as she regarded Harry. “How can you be so calm?!” she demanded, a faint accusation in her voice.
Detecting her tone, Harry clenched his fists together in boiling anger. Hermione or no Hermione, she had no right to judge him, to assume that watching his classmate bleeding to death in front of him had meant nothing “ he raised his eyes to meet Hermione’s, who winced at the blazing anger in Harry’s eyes.
“Shut up,” Harry said coldly, truly recognizing for the first time that this was a stranger in front of him. Hermione would never be so insensitive, so ignorant. “You weren’t there, you didn’t fight for your life, for Parvati and Violet’s life“ you didn’t have to bring Padma’s body back. So shut up, just “” Desperately grabbing on to what was left of his self restraint, Harry left, sliding the compartment door shut with a furious slam.
Hermione was left with wide eyes, staring at the compartment door with eyebrows furrowed, a cold realization gripping her. She really didn’t know. For the first time, Hermione Granger realized just how much her books had failed her. There was no volume thick enough to teach empathy.
Meanwhile, Harry Potter was storming his way through the hallway, not registering the numerous greetings that were directed his way. His head was starting to hurt from constantly swerving his neck around to inspect the interior of each compartment, checking for Ginny. Finally, he spotted two redheads and flung the door open, sitting down next to a grinning Ginny.
“Trunk?” Violet asked.
“What?” Harry said distractedly, the aftereffects of his little outburst lingering.
“Your trunk,” Violet repeated slowly, as if speaking to a toddler. “Where is it?”
Harry thought, then groaned before cursing loudly. He’d forgotten it in the Head compartment. Great, now he’ll have to go face Fake-Hermione again. Well, Harry thought after a second’s musing, I’ll have to see her the whole year. A scowl disfigured his face as he realized just how much he missed his Ron and Hermione. He supposed he could manage all this on his own “ it’s just that it would’ve been easier with them, though if this Ginny was the same as his, she could be of some help.
But Violet he would never tell; how were you supposed to explain his situation to someone who doesn’t exist?
Harry shrugged this question off, cooling down his anger in the process. He wasn’t sure exactly why Hermione had set him off like that; maybe he just wasn’t used to her being so . . . insensitive. She had always told Ron off for his lack of tact, but obviously this False-Hermione had never actually had real life experience.
“Why does Hermione Granger hate me?” he asked suddenly.
“She’s still angry about that?” Dean Thomas asked incredulously. Harry blinked in surprise; he hadn’t even registered his presence. Scanning the rest of the compartment, he recognized Demelza, Seamus, Parvati “who was looking blankly out the window, not even acknowledging Harry’s rather noisy arrival“ and a couple of Gryffindors that Harry knew were a year younger than him, though he only recognized them by face, not name.
“You talking about last year?” Ginny asked, eyebrows furrowed. “But that wasn’t even your fault!”
“Er “yeah. Remind me what happened again.” Harry asked, carefully making sure that he didn’t sound too ignorant.
Violet narrowed her eyes at Harry. “How could you have forgotten?” she asked suspiciously.
“Ran into the Head compartment door “can’t really think properly right now,” Harry joked, grinning to throw Violet off.
However, though the suspicion dimmed in her eyes somewhat, she still looked wary, and Harry began to feel concerned. Violet had been the first to see Harry when he initially arrived here “wherever “here” was“ and though she’s acted completely normal around him and never mentioned it again, he couldn’t help but feel as if she was the one he needed to be the most careful around. He felt that, somehow, she suspected that Harry was not exactly the brother that she knew. But then, that could have just been Harry’s paranoia getting to him.
At least, he hoped so.
“Well, you’ve always been really forgetful “I remember that time when you forgot to pack your wand before coming to Hogwarts,” Violet said breezily, her voice completely casual now. “Anyway, Hermione thinks you played a prank on her. Someone else did it and landed the blame on you “we don’t know who it was, though.
“It wasn’t me!” she said indignantly at Harry’s expression. “You remember that Muggle dream where you walk into school naked? Well, that’s what happened to her, though whoever did it put some kind of charm on her so she would think she was fully clothed when she, er, wasn’t. And being the conservative, stiff, bookish type of person she is, that was the one thing in the world that, well…you can imagine how horrible it’d be for her, for anybody, really.”
“Oh,” was really all Harry could say to that. “Why’d she think it was me?”
“Someone left a note saying it was you who did it,” Dean filled in.
Harry frowned. “Hermione’s smart enough to know whoever did that wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell her who did it!”
Dean shrugged. “She needed someone to blame, and you were the closest thing. You know, I still can’t believe you need us to tell you about it again “didn’t you say your ears were ringing for a week after that row with her, when she was screaming at you in the middle of the common room?”
“Right, but I just needed another perspective,” Harry said lamely. He really needed to work on his lying skills.
One of the sixth years rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
Ginny made a sudden movement. “Oh, I almost forgot! Your present, Harry.” She brought out box covered in wrapping paper decorated with flying snitches.
Smiling, he thanked her, feeling strange surrounded by these people “some he knew, and quite well, but they weren’t the same as Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna “Ginny’s presence was the only thing that made this feel even remotely right. And even then…Harry caught Ginny’s eyes, noting with surprise that they were different, more innocent.
That’s when he realized it. This Ginny had never been kidnapped and left to die in the Chamber of Secrets; she had never been manipulated and betrayed by someone she thought had been a friend. So who was? Had the Chamber of Secrets even opened here?
Ah, the mystery and danger of Hogwarts’ dark corners; though he knew he loved every niche of that castle. Somehow, he felt that things would get better now that he was heading home.
“Open it later,” Ginny said when Harry didn’t immediately do anything with it.
“Okay,” he said, carefully tucking the present into his coat pocket.
“Anyone watch the football championship?” Dean asked, breaking the moment between Ginny and Harry, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “West Ham completely “”
“No one knows who the bloody team is, Dean!” Seamus interrupted, sounding absolutely exasperated. Harry had to smile too, remembering Dean’s poster in their dorm. “But Ireland’s been flying really well “not surprising, since they won the World Cup before “”
“And haven’t since,” Demelza retorted. “Won’t again, neither.”
“Want to take me up on that?” Seamus asked eagerly, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Don’t think your mum would be too happy bout you gambling,” Harry added before he could stop himself. He remembered all too clearly the hostility he’d had to endure because Seamus’s mother had thought Harry and Dumbledore lying loons.
But instead of the hardened glare Harry had received fifth year, Seamus merely smirked cheekily at him. “Me mum’s not gonna find out, is she?”
“Speaking of, where’s Ron?” Dean asked, looking around as if expecting Ron to just pop out of nowhere. “I thought he was going to meet us.”
Ginny glanced at Harry surreptitiously. “Er “I think he wanted to go have a good snog with Lavender Brown.”
Demelza rolled her eyes. “Typical Ron; you’d wonder how he saved all those goals, his head constantly in the clouds.” She turned to Harry. “Oh, I was watching Bulgaria play, and their seeker “Viktor Krum“ did this amazing move that’s real famous now. Called the ‘Krum’ I think.”
“How original,” Violet commented dryly. “Let’s try it!”
“Can’t, Vi “it’s not a Chaser move.”
Violet raised her eyebrow. “Guess it’s yours, then Harry.”
Harry nodded absently, wondering about this new information about Ron. Was he good friends with Harry? Probably not, since he seemed to have tolerated Harry snogging his sister before. Presumably he hung out with Seamus and Dean if they were expecting him; but maybe it was more of the Quidditch crowd, not just a small group of friends. The Golden Trio, Harry thought, amused. Friends, but not as close as Ron, Hermione, and Harry had been.
Then it clicked that Ron was still dating Lavender.
Won-Won, Harry thought, a grin erupting on his face. He couldn’t believe the Ron here would actually put up with that for more than a year. After all, just having to watch the mushiness had been revolting enough for Harry, and especially so for Hermione.
Harry’s grin slipped as he realized that not only was he on bad terms with his best mates, but that the two “who obviously liked each other in an entirely un-platonic way“ probably weren’t even on speaking terms.
Suddenly, Harry sensed a disturbance; something about the light-hearted atmosphere of the compartment changed. Turning his head slightly, he saw that Parvati had stood up, her eyes flashing, cheeks flushed with anger.
“How “how can you “” she stuttered, voice shaking tremendously.
“Parvati?” Dean said cautiously. “What’s wrong?”
Violet was looking at Harry worriedly, and he understood; they both knew exactly what was wrong.
“How can you talk about Viktor bloody Krum when people are dying!” she shrieked, tears glistening in her eyes. “When people are being tortured, all you can talk about is your fucking Quidditch? You…you…she’s dead!” Her voice was rising higher and higher as her breathing became erratic in hysteria. “She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, Padma’s dead “that’s more important than Quidditch!”
Parvati couldn’t even talk anymore at this point; she was sobbing hard, hot tears staining her dark cheeks.
Everyone was frozen in a stunned silence. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Violet stood up and approached the crying girl cautiously. “We’re sorry, Parvati,” she said quietly, “we didn’t think you wanted to talk abou “”
Parvati let out a shrill, devastating scream as she pushed past Violet and rushed out of the compartment, promptly smashing into the Head Girl.
“Parvati!” Hermione exclaimed. “What’s wro “”
Harry knew that Parvati was having a massive breakdown, that she was reaching for her wand to hex Hermione “quickly, Harry grabbed Parvati’s shoulders and shoved her outside the compartment, Hermione quickly leaping aside for them. Harry decisively shut the sliding door before facing Parvati, whose eyes were suddenly wide open, pure, primal fear written all over her face.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Harry said gently, realizing that Parvati must be remembering what had happened in Diagon Alley. “But I couldn’t let you hex Hermione, you understand that, right?”
Slowly, Parvati nodded her head, the panic in her eyes diminishing slightly.
Harry remembered the Yule Ball, how Parvati had been showing him off a bit, bragging about how she’d gotten the famous Harry Potter as a date. Now, however “now she just looked vulnerable and helpless, unable to deal with the fact that her twin, her other half, was gone forever.
“Sorry,” Parvati muttered, silent tears still flowing down her cheeks. “Didn’t mean to lose control like that.”
“It’s alright,” Harry said. “They weren’t trying to ignore Padma, you know.” He ignored Parvati’s flinch at the mention of her twin. “It’s easier to talk about small, normal stuff than…well, you know.”
He paused, recollecting. “They know. They understand; they weren’t going to mention her until you did.”
Parvati nodded jerkily. “I almost didn’t come back “to Hogwarts, I mean,” she said quietly. “My mum didn’t want me too, but if I had stayed at home “Padma was everywhere.”
Harry nodded, listening silently. He knew exactly how she felt; it had been the same for him regarding Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Sirius had hated it, and Harry hated it too. There were too many reminders of Sirius, of everything that his godfather had despised and tried to run away from, only to be trapped there in his last days.
“I “I think I’ll apologize to everyone,” Parvati said, looking ashamed about her outburst.
“Don’t think you need do,” Harry answered, though she probably would anyway.
“Er “Potter?”
Harry turned towards Hermione, forgetting that she had been there the entire time. “Yeah?” he said somewhat frostily.
“Can I have a word in the Heads compartment?”
Harry nodded and had starting walking with her when Parvati’s voice called him back.
“Harry? Thanks. For Diagon Alley and everything. I’d be dead if it weren’t for you,” she said quietly, though her eyes showed her immense gratitude.
Giving her a small smile, he added, “Violet helped too.”
“Okay,” she said before re-entering the compartment.
Harry then turned his attention towards Hermione. “Lead the way.”
They made their way to the Heads compartment in silence; even the sound of Harry gently sliding the door shut seemed deafening.
Crossing his arms, Harry spoke first. “What d’you want?” He wasn’t exactly sure why he was being so frosty towards her “after all, he was supposed to be trying to repair their friendship“ but it was probably because the differences still unnerved him immensely.
Sure enough, Hermione flinched at the iciness in his tone. She looked torn, as if what she was about to do was hard enough as it is. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out suddenly. “About yelling earlier. I didn’t “”Hermione looked away, but Harry was surprised. Did she just apologize? If anything, he would have thought his current attitude towards her would have just set her off more.
“Er “thanks.” He said uncomfortably. “I’m sorry too, I guess. Listen, about the whole thing that you hate me for…I didn’t do that.”
Hermione blushed furiously. “I think I always knew that,” she said slowly. “Just needed to take it out on someone, I guess. Rather silly of me, isn’t it? I mean, you’ve always been perfectly nice to me, even when others aren’t…” She trailed off, more embarrassed than ever, and maybe even feeling a little pathetic.
She must not have very many friends, Harry realized, if she had never become friends with us, and everyone just thought of her as the bossy know-it-all and nothing else.
“Well, I forgive you. We okay, then?” he asked, offering his hand out to her.
Hermione stared at his outstretched hand for a moment, then hesitantly shook it, a slight smile dancing on her lips. “Yeah,” she said in a strange voice. “I guess we are.”
Harry grinned, feeling that “finally “he had made some progress here. Maybe hope wasn’t lost after all. “Wanna finish those schedules now?”
She nodded, retrieving Harry’s pile, minus half its original size, and handed them to him. “You know, you put Pansy Parkinson on Astronomy tower patrol three times.”
Smirking, he replied, “I know.”
Hermione frowned, looking disapproving for a moment before shrugging it off. Harry figured that Pansy had probably picked on her enough to waive her disapproval aside in favor of the mental image of Pansy huffing and puffing as she was forced to climb the stairs.
Then, slowly but surely, Hermione began to laugh. It was hesitant, like she rarely got the chance to really laugh, to really smile and whole heartedly enjoy the benefits of friendship.
Harry was surprised as tears of mirth flowed down her cheeks, unable to contain her laughter. His head hurt trying to figure out why she was laughing this hard. The thought of Pansy’s upcoming patrol was amusing, but not that funny.
He shook his head, smiling slightly, and got back to work.
The Sorting Hat ended its song with a decisive snap of its mouth, regressing into silence amidst the usual applause.
To Harry’s surprise, the line of first years was preceded by none other than Nymphadora Tonks, whose pink spikes contrasted heavily with the rather pale, nervous looking eleven-year-olds. Despite himself, Harry felt a grin tug at his lips.
“Who’s that?” Hermione asked.
“Nymphadora Tonks. She’s an Auror, but I’m not sure why she’s leading the first years,” Harry replied, frowning.
Much to his friends’ shock, Harry had waved Hermione over to sit next to them as they entered the Great Hall. He couldn’t help but remember how stricken and torn she had looked, as if wondering if Harry was playing a joke or not. It had seemed to take a lot of courage to accept the invitation, surrounded by people who have probably ridiculed her every year of her Hogwarts career.
Gaining Hermione’s friendship had been easy enough once they got over the initial hump, but Harry knew that Ron would be much harder. However, seeing Tonks “cheerful and effervescent as ever“ lifted his spirits.
Tonks named off the various people, although it did not escape Harry’s notice that the amount of brand new students had decreased significantly. Finally, after all had been properly sorted, the chair at the head of the faculty table screeched as it was pushed backwards.
A stern looking Headmistress McGonagall suddenly stood up, gazing solemnly out at the Great Hall, whose numbers had dwindled considerably. Harry had half expected Dumbledore’s vibrant energy to make up for the empty spaces in the House tables; his loss became even more painfully pronounced when compared to McGonagall’s disciplinarian air.
“Welcome to another year of Hogwarts; I congratulate those of you who decided to come back this year, despite the dark times our world is going through. Remember that education is important for post war, when all of this is over with. When the battle ends, we need young witches and wizards with refined minds and magical ability to carry our generation through the rebuilding. Therefore, I urge you to focus on your studies like never before “I guarantee you’ll need them.” A small smile tugged at McGonagall’s lips. “Although I daresay you’ll find some brand of fun to balance things out.”
She then went over the basic rules, stressing especially on not leaving the grounds without permission and limiting nighttime wanderings for security reasons. McGonagall also said that any suspicious activity by a teacher, faculty member, or even a fellow student was to be reported to her immediately. Harry figured they couldn’t risk anything like Malfoy’s plan to happen again.
“Eat up,” Professor McGonagall concluded seriously as food appeared on gold plates on cue.
Everyone immediately dug in, but Harry turned to Hermione. “Isn’t the speech usually after dinner?”
Hermione, who had been adding pork chops to her plate, looked up. “Yes, but that was with Professor Dumbledore, wasn’t it? I suppose McGonagall just wanted to do things differently.
Harry frowned, but didn’t say anything more on the subject. However, when he looked back up at the faculty table, Professor McGonagall had disappeared.
Must be Order business, Harry mused, suddenly seized with a desire to figure out what was going on. He could get Ron and Hermione together under the invisibility cloak and find McGonagall with the Marauder’s Map “
Except he didn’t have the Map or the cloak, and they weren’t exactly best friends anymore, where they?
“Merlin, Harry, eat already! Mum’ll kill you if you go anorexic,” Violet teased from across Harry.
Harry scowled good naturally, already slipping into the familiar comforts of Hogwarts against his will. Suddenly, he felt something brush against his leg. Looking over, he found Ginny smirking impishly at him as she interlocked their feet briefly, swinging them under the table.
“Ow!” Dean yelped loudly as their combined feet accidentally knocked into his knee. Violet laughed, and even Parvati had a small smile on her lips, though it did not reach her eyes.
Chuckling lightly, Harry dug into the delicious Hogwarts food, glad to be back at his true home, where his thirst for information would surely be quenched.
Harry allowed a groan of frustration to escape his lips as he scanned yellowed editions of the Daily Prophet, only to mentally kick himself in the arse when he realized how dangerous being noisy was. After all, he hadn’t seen his invisibility cloak in this world, and it’d be too suspicious if he suddenly went up to Dad and asked about it.
So here he was, nox-ing his light at every creak and squeak. He supposed he would have to just go to the library during the day “surely no one would look in too closely on what he was researching?
He felt completely blind without his invisibility cloak and Marauder’s Map…hang on; Fred and George were going to hand it down to Ron, weren’t they? If they hadn’t given it to Harry?
Scowling, Harry pushed away thoughts of his difficult best friend out of his mind. With Hermione, it had been fairly easy enough to start the beginning of a friendship, but he suspected it was because she hadn’t had very many friends to begin with. It made Harry sad to think of Hermione, alone for seven years save for her books.
Suddenly, something caught his eye.
Eyes hungrily soaking up the information “which he already knew“ Harry realized that there had been something that Violet had not told him; perhaps she didn’t know either.
At first the Aurors found no trace of Harry Potter, the young son of the couple, and for a while he was believed to have been taken captive by the Death Eaters. Although the suspected Death Eaters were apprehended by Aurors, the Potters had been incapacitated at the time, therefore unable to reveal the whereabouts of their son. He was later found hidden in their bedroom closet, the scene of the crime. Healers have confirmed that the young Potter is unresponsive due to shock; they believe that he may have witnessed the brutal torture through the slits in the door. They are now considering performing an extensive Memory Charm on him in order to wipe the memory away; this is an extremely controversial procedure, for it could cause permanent loss of short or long term memory.
Harry put the newspaper down, not wanting to read more. Did Neville see his parents tortured? Harry wondered, horrified. Is that why he’s always forgetting the password? I always thought…
Obviously this Harry had a better memory than Harry’s Neville if he’s got good enough grades to make Head Boy and remember Quidditch strategy.
Shaking his head, Harry carefully placed the edition back into its proper place, yawning; it was getting late. Much as he’d like to keep on reading, it probably wouldn’t be good if he fell asleep in class.
Deciding that he’d tackled enough for today, Harry dimmed his light, carefully checking around the corner before proceeding his way cautiously out of the library and back to the Gryffindor common room, knowing the Fat Lady wouldn’t tell on him for coming back late.
However, what Harry didn’t realize was that someone watched him leave from behind a stack of dusty tomes.