Chapter 18: The road to hell and good intentions.
"Aaaand checkmate!" Ron gloated as his knight came out of nowhere and skewered Harry's queen. Harry had been sure that he had the situation under control for the last five moves, but he obviously had run right into Ron's trap.
"Good one," Harry said as he got out of his chair, intending to join Hermione and Neville at the study desk. He figured that she should be nearly done with her Arithmancy work by now, and he still had the essay to finish. He had let Ron badger him into a game, but it was entirely too awkward to really enjoy it.
Ron looked up from setting up the board when Harry stood. "Where are you going? Come on, I'll give you a rematch."
"Sorry Ron, but I've got some work left. I want to get my homework done and a bit studying in before bed," Harry replied. "Maybe tomorrow?"
Ron's look clearly showed his opinion. "You spent entirely too much time with her," he accused. He didn't like it at all that Hermione succeeded in warping Harry into her likeness - which was something inherently bad and evil in his opinion - even making him study for class.
Harry ignored that outburst and stood. "I want to spend time with her, and I need to get my homework done," he said. "You should, too."
"Come on, there is more than enough time for that later - one more quick game won't hurt," Ron continued to wheedle Harry into goofing off. "How about exploding snap or gobstones - you might even win a game." He said with a wide grin at Harry.
Harry sighed deeply, but nonetheless he stood and wordlessly went to join his girlfriend , leaving a frowning Ron behind. Hermione casually slid her chair to the side to allow him to sit next to her, her gesture and her slight frown telling Harry that she had observed the incident, but chose not to comment. Neville shot him a sympathetic glance while Ron wasn't looking as he was trying to coax Seamus into a game.
With another sigh, Harry kissed Hermione's cheek tenderly. With a faint purr, Hermione's face evened as the tension left her as she returned her attention to her books. Harry sighed again, and pulled his earlier discarded books closer and started working on his transfiguration essay, trying to ignore his plight, while Neville asked Hermione to check his.
Harry's main problem was that Ron had graciously decided - after two days of moping - that he would magnanimously ignore their betrayal of his trust and had gone straight back to business as usual.
With Harry, at least.
Hermione, on the other hand, was still persona non grata. With her, Ron kept a polite peace, still arguing about minor things, but mostly ignoring her presence, except for frequent requests to copy her homework. The tentative peace was only held by the fact that neither of them wanted to anger Harry. Hermione held back in order not to disturb Harry's friendship with Ron. Of course, she was still angry at Ron, but this was more or less a perpetual state she had grown used to over the years.
At first, Harry was glad to have his friend back, but it came at a price - within the last two days, Ron had managed to cut Harry's study time in half, just by relentlessly arguing that Harry should spend more time on his broom or with him. At first Harry gave in, in order to bridge over the gap in their friendship, but it was quickly getting on his nerves. The main problem was that Ron was completely convinced that Harry only studied to impress Hermione in order to get rewarded. Every attempt to convince him that Harry actually liked studying - to a certain degree - was answered by a suggestive smirk.
At least Ron hadn't tried to ask Harry about "how far he had gotten, yet". Harry would feel sorry if he had to eviscerate his best friend.
"He would do well to copy your study habits," Hermione whispered as Ron stalked up the stairs angrily after Seamus refused to play, as well. She was rather happy that Ron had defaulted to his 'ignore her; she will crawl back for forgiveness' attitude towards her.
"He's still leeching off the benefits of the DA sessions," Harry responded tiredly, trying to get his mind back on his transfiguration essay that he had already roughly drafted. "True, true," Neville said from across the desk, leafing lazily through a Herbology text while Hermione looked his essay over.
Hermione could only roll her eyes at her boyfriend's assessment while she rearranged a paragraph in Neville's text with her wand. True, the work with the DA last year had brought all of its members far ahead of their classmates, but the grinder Tonks had put the two through had increased this advantage heftily.
"He won't be for long," Hermione replied with her trademark roll of the eyes as she wrote something onto the parchment, with Harry nodding his approval to that statement.
The pace set in class was tremendous, certainly on equal footing with fifth year, and as far as it could be told this early in the year, Hermione was still firmly in the lead and Harry now a close second, since he now actually studied.
Hermione waved her wand over Neville's parchment, drying the ink so she wouldn't smear it. "That's it, Neville - just redo that last paragraph, you got it nearly backwards - I wrote you the source and page next to it so you can look it up for the final version."
"I did?" Neville said surprised as he took his parchment back. "Well, I better go to the library and look it up, then, thanks for the help," he said as he packed his stuff and rose.
"My pleasure." Hermione responded with a genuine smile. Of course, she was already done with the final version of her essay. Given that wordless casting was a criterion in every class this year, she and Harry were rather comfortable with their workload. While their classmates were often seen struggling with their homework, still trying to make their spells work without incantations, they didn't need that practical training anymore. So effectively, they had only half the homework to do.
"Oh, one thing, Harry," she said as Neville was on his way to the portrait hole. She then waited patiently until after Harry had finished his current word and paid her attention to inform him of her news. "Professor Vector asked me about my new wand," she told him after she had quickly checked whether they had an audience.
"I made up a story that we got them from a wand maker in France, who we had visited during holidays. The official version is that our suitcase got bumped up badly during flight, and our wands had been snapped. We stumbled across her shop when visiting Marseilles and picked up wands there. The name was 'Raquelle's Batons', she was a nice lady, brown hair, a very small shop, and told us that snapped wands couldn't be repaired," she whispered across the table.
"Ok, I'll try to remember that," Harry smiled back. "Could you look my essay over, just to be sure?" he suddenly said.
Hermione was a bit surprised by the sudden change of topic, but when she turned, she saw that Ron had returned and was closing in on them, his book bag in hand. Obviously, he had finally decided to do his homework, as no one was available to play games. "Of course Harry," she said loudly. "I'll gladly look your essay over, and then I'll help you with Runes, ok?" she said, smiling slightly as she saw Ron frown deeply as she mentioned Harry's sacrilege.
Harry couldn't help but chuckle at Hermione's antics. At least, she was teasing Ron instead of hexing. Being grateful for small favours, he pulled out his Runes book as Hermione grabbed her quill and charmed the ink bottle red in preparation for his essay.
Surprisingly, Harry had adapted nicely into the Ancient Runes class he shared with some fifth year Ravenclaws, and with occasional help from Hermione was more than able to keep up. Hermione did her best to show her appreciation of his course selection whenever the topic came up, which soon made that class Harry's favourite. After all, he was already done with DADA.
The biggest surprise that first week was that Harry was allowed to attend Potions class, since Professor Slughorn did allow participation with an "E".
ooOOoo
"Oh, Mister Potter, glad to see you again," Professor Slughorn beamed when he opened the door to see Harry waiting there along with Hermione and the rest of the students.
When Harry gave Hermione a peck on the cheek and turned to leave, the man was less than happy. "Where are you going?" he asked. "Class is starting right now, Mister Potter."
"Oh, I'm not attending Potions, I don't have the necessary O for it," Harry tried to excuse himself, but that didn't work with Slughorn.
"Nonsense, I think that an E Owl is perfectly acceptable for a NEWT course, and I happen to know that you have passed with that mark, Mister Potter. So come in and take a seat!"
Since Hermione also smiled happily at him, Harry realized that he wouldn't get out of that, and agreed with a friendly nod. After all, he had achieved an E as Snape's chew toy, so it couldn't be that bad.
The lesson started off with a short quiz, the students had to identify some potions that Slughorn had made. Of course, Hermione had all of them right, but Harry was proud he identified one. He'd never forget the look of Polyjuice Potion. Or the taste...
One of the Potions turned out to be Amortentia, a love potion, which had an intoxicating smell that should represent the things a person loves most. To Harry, it smelled of treacle tart, the woody smell of a broomstick handle, and something flowery he knew. He assumed it referred to the jungle on the island.
"Really? It reminds me of the sea, new parchment and the smell of your hair," Hermione whispered back when he told her this.
Meanwhile, Slughorn had proposed an interesting challenge for his students planned for the first hour. They were to square off against each other to produce the Draught of Living Death to win a small bottle of Felix Felicis, also known as liquefied luck, easily enough to last for about 12 perfect hours.
"You'll find the instructions on page 146 of your books," Slughorn said, and found himself confused when Harry raised his hand after that statement.
"Sorry, Professor, but as I hadn't planned on attending this year, I don't have a book of my own, and I presume we aren't supposed to share books during this contest," he admitted uncomfortably, hearing Malfoy chuckle from somewhere behind him, mocking him.
Slughorn took a moment to process, before his face lightened up. "Of course, my boy," he said, unaware that this phrase made Harry grind his teeth. "Here, take this one until you can obtain a new one," he said as he handed Harry a random one from the Potions room library.
While Slughorn was answering some questions from the other side of the classroom, Harry flipped to the given page. Much to his surprise and dismay, he found side notes scribbled all over the text, presumably by the former owner. A quick look at the name tag, revealed a not very helpful moniker of 'Halfblood Prince' as the person in question.
"Hermione?" Harry whispered while people started setting up their cauldrons, and sorting their tools. "What do you think of these notes?" he asked her for input.
"I'm not so sure about them," she said with a frown at the defaced pages. "Usually, you are supposed to take notes on parchment, not like this."
"Propriety and neatness aside, I doubt he wrote those down because they are wrong," Harry insisted with a sigh.
Hermione was reluctant to agree. "Who knows, after all, he discarded the book later, so for all we know, it might as well be a prank on some poor sod who happens to borrow that book."
Harry stared at her for a moment, before blinking and shaking his head. "You spent entirely too much time around the twins," he chuckled as he readied his desk for the work.
"That statement applies to any span of time you have to endure those two clowns when they are in mood to be funny," Hermione sighed.
"For a given value of funny," Harry commented dryly. "But you're right, I could see them editing a book like that, even if they never were to hear about the results. They admitted that they had left a series of pranks hidden around the school that they keyed to Filch. They say it's so he doesn't forget them too soon."
Hermione huffed in reply. Filch probably still had nightmares about these two. "So, are you going to use these, now?
"After you put pictures of the twins into my head? Hell, no - for all I know this could as well be a belated prank from the Marauders, given the age of this book. I say we check these notes later, and I'll stick to the original recipe, for now. With you in the team, we'll win this contest, anyway," he whispered back at her, chuckling as she blushed under his praise.
Naturally, Hermione won that contest, while Harry had finished somewhere in the middle field, as expected. Of course he was very proud of his talented girlfriend, a sentiment that was now shared with their Potions Professor, who nearly fell over himself in order to praise her.
ooOOoo
"Damn," Harry moped later that evening in the room of requirement. When they tried the alternate instructions from his book, they produced an even better result than Hermione had achieved.. "I'd have beaten you," he whined.
"By cheating," Hermione set him straight as she started to dispose of the potion.
"It's not cheating if I had better instructions out of luck," Harry insisted lightly, which was answered by a huff from his girl.
Hermione's scowl deepened, and Harry quickly pulled her into a hug. "Only joking," he said as she weakly struggled against his embrace. "We both know you are much better in potions than me," he whispered into her ear, smiling as she ceased her mock resistance and melted into his arms. "You can have that title - it's fine with me as long as I still kick your cute bum in Defence," he teased.
"You're not that bad in Potions, but I'm still a bit uncomfortable with modified instructions," Hermione replied after she had enjoyed his hug for an appropriate time.
"You just don't want to admit that I was right with my assessment that the notes wouldn't have been in there for nothing," he said.
"It's dangerous - anybody could write notes into his book, that wouldn't make them right," Hermione replied. When Harry started chuckling, she indignantly huffed at him, "What?"
"Oh, quit being so stubborn, just for the sake of it," Harry chided her. "People like the twins aside, why would someone place nonsense instructions in his book? For all we know, these hints are probably out of class, you know, a long time ago, in times when there were competent teachers, who gave these corrections..."
She slowly freed herself and started to put away her tools into her kit. After a few moments, Harry started to help.
"All right, you do have a point," Hermione finally hesitantly agreed while she stowed the last ingredients in her kit. I'm still not comfortable with it," she said, cutting Harry off as he wanted to interject, "But I think it would only be prudent to use those when plausible. I do wonder why the books haven't been updated, yet."
"Maybe so that teachers can look better?" Harry provided his opinion as he handed her the mortar he just cleaned. Hermione gracefully chose to ignore that dig, only rolling her eyes in her usual fashion.
"Anyway, before we should use these instructions, we probably should read all of them first, to confirm the plausibility of those changes. I'll lend you mine until I'm done with it," Hermione insisted as she swapped their books. This time, it was Harry who rolled his eyes.
ooOOoo
During the next week, it was even more obvious how much Harry had changed when it came to studying. They had agreed to make the most of Hogwarts as long as they were there. At first, Harry had let himself be slowed down by Ron in order not to cut his old friend off; but due to the awkwardness of their interaction, Harry soon found himself cutting that time more and more.
Along with their classes they also had continued their private studies, which meant they did some fencing every morning in the Room of Requirement, and were reading lots of books they checked out in the library.
It became a normal sight to find them lounging on a couch next to the fire, both engrossed in a book while Harry absentmindedly fought off Hermione's attempts to burrow her feet under his robes to steal warmth.
The particular change that made his study time swell massively in comparison to earlier years was that this usually occurred during the times Harry used to 'hang out' with Ron.
Ron didn't take this all too well, even though Harry had another chess match with Ron that week - inevitably losing badly. But once more, Harry stopped at one match, no matter how much Ron wheedled for a replay. When asked for the reason, Harry truthfully said that he had found a few interesting books about charms in the library he had arranged to go over with Hermione.
For a moment, he was sure Ron would blow up at him by the fierce frown he sported, but then, Ron suddenly shrugged and left. He even refrained from insulting Hermione for changing Harry's study habits in front of Harry.
Going against his better judgment, Harry hoped that this meant that an improvement of their relationship was in reach.
Surprisingly, he grew a lot closer to Neville over this period. He never before had noticed that Neville spent that much time with Hermione while doing his homework, and actually had better grasp of many topics than Harry had. That finding only confirmed his resolution to keep the milling around to a minimum.
ooOOoo
One day during their second week, they found an unexpected guest in the common room.
"Hi, guys!" Ginny yawned from the couch, wearing casual clothes instead of the school uniform, just like them, only without the training bags.
Given the fact that it was six o'clock in the morning, at least an hour before she would even start to stir in her bed, they were rather surprised to see the girl there.
"Mind if I join you today? Hermione promised to let me watch you one day, and I woke up early today."
Hermione doubted the truthfulness of that statement, since she had a very long chat with Ginny just yesterday, in which the younger girl had tried to get details about her and Harry. Especially about their carnal knowledge of each other, Ginny had figured out quickly that something more than just snogging had occurred between Harry and Hermione. She was now on a mission to find out.
Hermione toyed with the thought of confiding in the girl, since it would be fun, if only in a 'corrupting the innocent' way. Also, she needed someone to talk 'girl' to, and neither Mum nor Tonks were at hand.
But that was not for Harry to know about, so she put on a brave face and agreed, since it was no hardship on their accord.
Chatting idly, they travelled to the Room of Requirement, where Harry asked for their now usual place to train, this time with the addendum that the door should also open to Ginny.
Ginny was only slightly impressed by the setup of the room. The room was a big hall, with a several foot wide mirrors at one side, and a polished wooden floor. Some target dummies were leaning in one corner, ready to be set up, and in the next corner there was a table flanked by couches, a rough copy of the ones in Grimmauld place. Ginny immediately took possession of that feature, tiredly stretching out on one of these while the other two started unloading their bags onto the table.
They quickly readied their stuff and after a quick warm-up and a - for Ginny's sake - short review of their stances, lunges and parries, they squared off against each other.
A now awake Ginny first cheered both of them on, equally, and was really excited about the swordplay they demonstrated. Fencing was seen as a very noble art in wizardry, but only a few older families still practiced that skill. Especially since it was bodily taxing, and most wizards shied away from all kinds of bodily exhausting activities. These cheers turned into frightened squeaks, soon, when they were done with the formal training and went into an unscripted duel...
ooOOoo
Hermione had just managed to block and duck under a high lunge of Harry, and let her blade slide along his as he tried to retreat, while quickly stepping forward to keep him within her measure. Gaining the inside position with an elegant twirl of her quicker blade and a side step, she had him exactly where she needed him to be as she gracefully stepped forward into her own lunge at his chest.
Harry could only avoid her tip by turning out of alignment and bending at the hip. This saved him for the moment, but now Hermione had him caught in a chase of lunges and feints. Only his longer blade and faster footwork allowed him to avoid defeat at Hermione's precise thrusts as she chased him across the room.
Yielding ground was a good way to hold someone at bay when you have a longer weapon, but at some point, you don't have anywhere to run to anymore. Anticipating this moment as he was driven towards the corner, Harry - in a desperate move - chose to cease trying to regain his distance and to close in, instead. This would normally be suicide against Hermione's shorter blade, but it allowed him to use the second advantage of his blade.
With a side-step that included a swing of his arm, he tried to cut at Hermione's midsection, hoping to score a surprise hit.
Hermione gasped in surprise at this change of tactic and tempo, but stuck to her technique. Letting her sword 'stick' to Harry's blade, she tried to use leverage to bring the point of her edgeless blade to bear.
Sadly, Harry had much better position and greater strength on his side, and for a moment, it seemed as if Harry would score first blood - but then Hermione stopped pushing against him and let his power force her into a twirl. In a display of unanticipated suppleness, she bent over forward and then backward, keeping contact to his blade while she turned a full 360 degrees, letting Harry pass. The tip of his rapier ripped her shirt as it swung by, mere fractions of an inch from her back as she completed her turn. Both stumbling from the strange move, she regained her footing quicker and lunged at him, hitting him directly in the back, between the shoulder blades, causing him to cry out sharply.
Of course, she couldn't resist calling out "Touché!" at his cry, knowing fully well how much Harry hated it when she did that.
"Harry! NO!" Ginny cried out between her hands covering her cheeks, rushing over to help her injured friend.
But instead of finding him hurt and bleeding, he was fine, except for his bruised ego and a frown as he rubbed the spot on his back.
"You two are crazy," Ginny scolded Hermione and Harry, as the older girl fetched a towel from the desk to towel off some sweat. "Absolutely bloody crazy!" she yelled.
Harry was still standing there and sulking a bit, he really had hoped to beat Hermione this time, but he had fallen for her feint and had let her goad him into that fatal lunge. Granted, he was gaining ground on her, but her technique was more precise and her blade was quicker than his. He really had to work on his tendency to rush into things at the first glimpse of an opening. It did work, occasionally; but just as often, he simply ran into traps.
"You could have seriously hurt each other!" Ginny meanwhile continued her tirade, gaining momentum.
Hermione threw the soiled towel into a bin and chuckled lightly. "No way," she said as she picked up her sword from the desk again, and poked it at Harry's backside as he passed her in search for his towel. With a yelp, Harry jumped and turned to glare at her. Hermione couldn't help but to shoot a saucy smile back at him.
"The blades are charmed to not cut or stick into anything, and deliver a stinging hex instead. It's a fencing charm we use on them every day before training," she told Ginny, without averting her eyes from her boyfriend's.
Hermione didn't miss the moment Harry's eyes widened for a fraction of a moment when inspiration hit him. Wordlessly, he picked up a towel and went over to the target dummies in order to let off some steam on them, while Hermione found herself anticipating what he had in mind for her. Nettling him like that was a sure way to find a very creative Harry when it came to make her pay for it.
Ginny missed that hidden interaction and gave Hermione a knowing grin and the universal 'Boys!' eye-roll as Harry stomped off.
"Anyway - That was awesome!" Ginny squealed as soon as Harry was a few feet away and started setting up the dummies for them.
"Thanks," Hermione said flatly. "But you should watch Tonks - she taught us and she is ages ahead of us. We wouldn't even need to charm our blades when we spar with her, she's so much better, but she insists on it, just in case," Hermione told her.
"That's really wise of her. After all, you could always get lucky," Ginny agreed; only to flinch when Harry started laughing from across the room.
Harry shook his head as he corrected his friend's assessment. "No, not in case one of us gets lucky - it's in case we fail so badly that we fall onto our own blades!" he chuckled as Ginny openly gaped at him.
Hermione agreed fully. "She's right. None of us has ever lasted longer than a few seconds against her, and that was because we hesitated to attack her for so long and she was playing with us. The first attack ends a fight with her, either her first attack or her response to ours," she explained.
"A couple of years experience in combination with the ability to change the shape of your body at will does that for you," Harry shouted from the corner he had finished putting up the dummies in.
"But she's a klutz!" Ginny stammered. "She can't walk two steps without falling over!"
"That's only when she's not concentrating," Hermione replied.
"Huh?"
"When she's not paying attention to the here and now, she starts shifting her shape unconsciously, and those minuscule shifts make her stumble. Her mother was a fencing aficionado - she loved sports,but Black girls were forbidden to play Quidditch, so fencing was the only alternative acceptable to the family. When Tonks came into her abilities and became a klutz, she taught her fencing in order to alleviate these problems. It worked - when she's in a fight, she is in complete control of her body. If you can't take her out by massive spellfire, she'll dodge her way out of every attack," Hermione replied.
Harry silently smiled in his corner. The massive crossfire part was exactly how he defeated Tonks. Trying to aim at her was futile - she even went so far as to transform her left arm into a baby version to avoid a hit in the first fight he ever won against her. Harry was sure she had actually managed to let one spell pass through her belly in that fight, but Tonks had diverted his inquiries with lewd comments whenever he asked her about that.
"In fencing, she is a nightmare - believe me, I'd never challenge her to a true fight, even if I had an army with me, although, if I had D'Artagnan and his friends, I might dare taking a chance, maybe," Hermione continued during his trip down memory lane.
"Who?"
"You know, the three Musketeers," Hermione explained. "Athos, Porthos, Aramis. And their friend D'Artagnan..."
Ginny's face plainly showed that she didn't.
"All for one, one for all?" Hermione tried, again with no visible recognition in her counterpart.
Ginny had her face scrunched up in concentration as she tried to connect the tidbits Hermione had given her to anything she knew. When her face suddenly lit up, Hermione returned a smile, sure the girl had finally remembered the famous story.
"Muskets! That are these modern Muggle... gums... from the world war, aren't they? I didn't know that you could use them for fencing," Ginny's mouth disproved that assumption while Hermione's face fell.
Momentarily stunned, Hermione stood there, wondering if she had the time to correct all the points she had noted being wrong with that statement, while Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud in the background.
"Remind me to talk to you about this later, Ginny, there seems to be quite a bit amiss in Muggle Studies," Hermione said overly calm, while slowly unclenching her fists. "We better continue with our training, breakfast is closing in, and we'll have plenty of time, then. Feel free to join Harry, I have some practicing to do," Hermione said as she made it over to the sitting area to work on her casting.
There, Hermione started to refine her work on the Accio spell, sending various objects flying around the room towards her. She had already reduced the wand movements to a lazy swish of her wand, and was trying to get closer to a simple point. Wordless incantation was already a standard for her, as she proved by banishing them back to their starting spots, although with full wand usage.
Ginny was extremely impressed with what she saw there, at least until she turned to the source of the crashes that started sounding out behind her.
Within seconds, Ginny was beyond scared as she saw how casually Harry summoned the most extreme punishment upon those poor puppets without uttering a word and only the barest of flicks of his wand. A display of colorful rays of light, most of these unknown to Ginny and many other light-sided people, screamed and hissed through the air, bridging the gap between Harry and his targets. On hitting the puppets, they were cutting them in half, setting them aflame, decomposing them quickly or simply blowing them apart in various ways. Some dummies with lesser damage sustained managed to repair themselves while Harry already flayed another one of their comrades, the only visible wand movement being when he changed targets.
"You must show me how to do this!" Ginny shouted excited, jumping up and down like Dobby on a good day after Harry had nearly run out of dummies, leaving smoking and sizzling debris behind. "That was unreal! It was so beyond scary when you did all of this in that weird silent way! It would be soooo cool if I could do that!"
Hermione exchanged an uncertain glance with Harry, who had stopped at the squealed outburst, staring a bit shocked at the gushing girl.
She wasn't sure if Ginny would be able to do that, yet. While Harry had power in abundance to offset the inefficient casting - meaning he didn't really count as an example, Hermione was two years older than Ginny - nearly three if you counted the extra months she lived through with the help of the time-turner. That made Hermione's core rather mature in comparison.
Additionally, while her core was good sized, but nothing to write epic tales about, she had something that made her and Harry - especially him - able to do that - willpower. It was left to decide if Ginny could show the determination needed to master those two techniques. Given the fact that the girl in question was rather easy to annoy and her best friend, she was wary about the best way to put it.
It was Harry who came to her help, trying to keep the girl's hopes down. "Well, we can try, but there is no guarantee. Remember, this is NEWT stuff, and most wizards never get this at all, you understand?" he carefully explained, gently easing the girl into the knowledge that this might be unattainable for her.
"Yeah, I know," Ginny pouted. "Still, I would like to try. Will you help me?" she pleaded, puppy eyes on full power.
Harry naturally relented and waved her over to the sitting area. "Sit down," he ordered the girl, while he sat next to Hermione. Ginny eagerly flopped down on the opposite couch, listening attentively.
"I have a basic exercise for you, while I work with Hermione. First, simply cast a lumos spell. Concentrate on the effects. Try feeling how the magic flows," he told her.
"When you think you got a feeling, try it without incantation. Visualize your wand lighting up. Wordless casting isn't done by just saying the words in your head, that doesn't work - you also have to visualize the result and make it happen," Harry explained, waiting until Ginny acknowledged receipt by nodding thoughtfully.
"That's how Hermione and I learned it - start with casting the spell normally for a few times and then try it wordless. Cast it loud every ten tries or so, and focus on how the spell feels like before trying again."
Ginny nodded and began casting vocally, and then fell into the rhythm of sitting silently, her face scrunched up in concentration and alertly casting the spell once in a while.
"Oh, and Ginny, don't be surprised, we are going to put up some privacy charms in that other corner, so we can train without distracting you, or you us," Harry said over his shoulder as he led Hermione away, only getting a grunt of approval as reply.
Quickly, Harry cast a multitude of charms, from a very helpful muffling spell Hermione had found in the book up to obscuring, ending with a repelling ward, just in case. Ginny was a Weasley and a girl, making her one of the most curious creatures possible.
This done, Harry returned to the task of helping Hermione, who meanwhile had transfigured a heap of dummy parts into a pair of chairs and a small table for them to sit, learn wandless casting.
They had earlier settled for trying to float a feather, which currently was the recipient of Hermione's steely glare. Seriously, the way she was glaring and pointing her hand at the feather made Harry think that she was about to read that poor feather the riot act. She still had difficulties achieving anything, and every now and then, her temper flared, resulting in the feather getting incinerated. This was coincidentally the reason why Harry didn't dare to tell her how silly she looked.
Dutifully, Harry told her every time that this was actually a good sign, since she at least was projecting her magic at the feather; she now only had to learn controlling it. Hermione always just huffed at him and conjured a new feather to stare to death, while Harry fetched his bag and continued to read up the theory portions Tonks had advised crucial for their NEWT exams.
She had sent them a letter to that regard, also telling Harry that she had started the paperwork on his Mastery already and would submit them and his needed memories during Christmas break, if - and only if - she was finished with the forms by then.
Be that as it may, all good things come to an end sometimes, and soon they were on the way back to their dormitories to shower and dress for class. Ginny hadn't managed to do anything in her practice, but she wheedled and puppy-dog-eyed both into letting her join their daily exercises.
ooOOoo
Back in the Common Room and feeling more human after the shower, Harry went straight to his girlfriend waiting on the couch, reading. How she always was faster than him, having long hair and being a girl, was beyond him. Ginny proved the stereotype to be somewhat true, as she always took ages in the shower, and would certainly show up late at breakfast, as usual, with her hair still wet and clothes a little damp due to the lack of proper towelling. His teenage mind would come up with several entertaining reasons for her long showers, but rational thoughts prevailed, making him realize that she might just like the always hot water and the lack of disruptions, compared to the Burrow.
Sitting down and planting a kiss on Hermione's cheek, he received a smile in return. "Hey there; you know, we must find a solution to our living arrangements," she whispered in his ear. "Sleeping alone doesn't do it for me anymore."
"Tell me about it," Harry whispered, rising and pulling her with him. "At least you don't have to bother with Ron. That guy can clear whole forests in a single night," he joked while leading her to the exit and to the waiting breakfast.
Hermione huddled herself against his arm as they jostled themselves through the too small - for two, at least - passage, reluctant to let him go. "Well, that puts him in competition with Parvati. You wouldn't believe the noise her petite nose is able to produce."
"Really? I'd never thought..."
"But that's what silencing charms are for, aren't they?" she cheekily added.
Chatting happily about stuff like only young couples can do, they made their way down to the already well-filled Great Hall, not knowing that the good day was about to end.
Down there they sat at their usual places furthest away from the head table, and began loading their plates with scones, and some scrambled eggs in Harry's case. Hermione was just finished pouring them some tea to go with that when something was shouted over the din of breakfast that made her drop the teapot, shattering it and spilling the contents over the table.
"What's wrong with you, Weasley? Are you sulking because the Mudblood whore isn't spreading her legs for you anymore?"
Malfoy had his back turned on them, and either not knowing that Harry and Hermione were attending breakfast already, or very well aware of it, had accosted Ron at his now usual seat at the middle of the table, ever since he sat with Dean and Seamus at the feast. The Slytherin would-be prince probably was still remembering the last year, as his position in the inquisitorial squad allowed him to go scott-free when spouting his venom whenever he liked to. He laughed loudly at the venomous glared he received from the three Gryffindor boys in front of him.
While Hermione felt tears of shame well in her eyes at being insulted so vilely in public, Harry had already reacted and risen. With a wave of his wand - he barely refrained from pulling the hidden battle wand - he sent a powerful wordless bludgeoning hex at Draco. The boy noticed the hex at the last second, proving that he actually had watched out for Harry's reaction, and spun around to dodge, while trying to block it with his arms, protecting his chest and head.
The hex impacted with a resounding crack, sending the boy flying arse over teakettle, and landing on his side. The resulting cries of pain and the fact that the blond boy was cradling his right arm with his left as he squirmed on the stone floor proved the assumption that he had broken at least one bone.
That fact didn't mean much to Harry, who continued stalking towards his prone enemy, his intent to deal even more punishment readily evident for all to see. The students near the fallen Slytherin were trying to put as much distance as possible between the two combatants, while still keeping a good line of sight on the events, while some of the students at Slytherin table rose and reached for their wands.
When Professor Snape rose to interfere, Dumbledore chose that precise moment to act.
"Everybody stop!" he yelled, his loud voice easily carrying throughout the Hall.
"Professor Snape, I believe that these insults have been addressed adequately already. I don't believe that Mister Malfoy should be punished beyond the point he already has been," he said, while looking intently at his subordinate. Snape frowned, but clearly got the message and sat down, glaring as if he wanted to roast someone on a spit, most probably the 'Potter brat'.
Dumbledore smiled benignly as he turned to address the resident nurse, who still sat there, stunned, the fork halfway to her mouth. "Madam Pomfrey, would you please escort Mister Malfoy to the Infirmary?"
Startled into action, the matron jumped up and started to round the table to reach the whimpering student on the floor.
Unnoticed in the general clutter, Harry hadn't stopped and was still approaching Malfoy, but still a good two dozen feet away. He moved slowly, as if each of these steps took great efforts. And still, he radiated such anger that the students sitting along the path he took were instinctively cringing away, fighting their own flight reflex.
"Mister Potter!" Dumbledore said loudly, but to now avail. Still, Harry slowly stalked toward his downed adversary, his nostrils flaring with every step he took.
Dumbledore didn't have the record for the least students killed under his watch for nothing - ok, the fact that the international ban on dueling was instigated did help - but still, he immediately noticed the danger signs. Showing the age-defying agility he was famous for, he vaulted the table and took a few quick steps forward.
"Mister Potter!" he called again, while quickly flicking his wand in a intricate pattern as he did so, casting a shield dome over Pomfrey and her charge.
This finally caught the attention of the boy in question, who stopped and looked defiantly at the old man approaching and stopping between him and his prey, his wand hand tightening its grip slightly as he glared at the Headmaster.
"I believe that this unfortunate matter has been settled, hasn't it?" Albus Dumbledore said, looking intently at Harry.
At first, Harry was tempted to tell the man to bugger off, that he had the right to flay Malfoy; but since one of his long term goals depended on the cooperation with the Headmaster, he kept his temper. Taking a deep breath, he reluctantly managed to give a nod, only to immediately raise his empty hand to signal that he had something to add.
"Almost - there is one thing left to say," Harry spoke, before straightening up and staring at the blonde idiot whining as the nurse waved her wand over Malfoy's arm.
"You are lucky that you are too young to be formally called to a duel. Especially as there is no honor in beating a pathetic excuse for a wizard like you are. But since you are eager to step in the criminal footsteps of your father, you leave me no choice," he said, straightening up and raising his wand.
The whole crowd jumped a little as he did so, even though he had it pointed upward. Dumbledore squinted his eyes a little, but didn't interfere, secure that his shield around the Malfoy boy would allow him to sit things out.
When Harry finally spoke instead of casting, Dumbledore was as shocked by the words as everyone else in the vicinity.
"Draco Malfoy, for the repeated transgressions by thee and the upstart House Malfoy in general, thee and thy mother are hereby cast out of the Ancient House of Black. If thee and thy family do not cease to harass me and mine, I will be forced to swear vengeance on the insignificant House of Malfoy. Heed my warning! So I spoke, and so mote it be!" he shouted, using the formal speech of the old ways, and ignoring the gasps echoing through the Great Hall as his wand flashed and signed his actions.
No one could deny the validity of this measure. Legally, Harry would have been alright to duel Malfoy to the death for the insult to his betrothed, if only the boy had been of age. Even a bludgeoning curse as direct response was not excessive, given the type of insult delivered. In the eye of the public, Potter was actually acting rather restrained.
Thus said, Harry gave a nod at the Headmaster, turned, and left the Hall, gathering Hermione on his way out.
On his way out, Harry just barely heard the start of an impromptu speech by Dumbledore, in which the man expressed his hope that this was the first and last time that he would have to witness or hear about such a blatant misdemeanour by one of his students as Mister Malfoy had just performed.
While he was quite aware that Dumbledore was spinning the events for his own goals, he didn't care. He was too focused at the distressed girl trying to dig herself into his shoulder. He had some consoling to do.
*** Later that day ***
Transfiguration class was no fun at all.
The lesson topic, switching spells between vertebrae and insects wasn't that hard, at least now that Harry had actually read ahead and knew what he was supposed to do. It wasn't that he was disgusted by bugs like some of the more 'girly' girls like Lavender who was on the verge of breaking down at the prospect of touching a weevil. And frankly, he found his mouse looked cool with grasshopper legs, albeit it proved a bit challenging to confine it to the table.
It was the looks of their classmates that were grating on Harry's nerves.
Hermione had chosen the 'three wise monkeys' approach, and was completely focusing on the lesson, but Harry knew that she was more hurt than she showed. He had been with her in the empty classroom she had chosen to hide in.
At least she had stopped using girl's toilets. Hogwarts had a tradition of bad things happening to people crying in toilets.
Harry believed the worst thing had been that Ron hadn't risen to her defence like he always used to. In fact, instead of him jumping up or at least shouting at Malfoy, Harry was quite sure to have seen Ron actually giving Hermione a brief dark glance. Harry had purposely interfered swiftly and harshly before Ron might have said something derogatory. Hermione would have been devastated if he had.
Finally, the period found an end, but while they were putting their things away, they heard Professor McGonagall's voice rising over the din.
"Mister Potter, Miss Granger? Would you please stay after class?"
The couple finished packing their bags, and moved forward to meet Professor McGonagall. When the last student had left the room, she gave the two children a smile and informed them that the Headmaster had asked her to escort them to his office before lunch. Since they had a free period, they didn't have any reason to refuse. It took them just a minute of walking to follow their Professor to the Headmaster's office.
The Gargoyle had already stepped aside when they arrived, and McGonagall immediately led them up the stairs and into the room.
"Hello Professor, Miss Granger, Mister Potter." Dumbledore greeted them tiredly from behind his desk. "Please take a seat, everybody. Care for a lemon drop?" Harry couldn't help but smile at the offer. He doubted anyone else had ever taken up on that offer. Carefully avoiding eye contact, he politely waved off and waited for his girlfriend to sit down. McGonagall chose, like the last time, to rather keep standing behind her students. When Harry finally had taken a seat, too, Dumbledore cleared his throat, signalling the start of the meeting.
"I have made some inquiries since our last meeting, and it seems like I have done you a horrendous misdeed, Mister Potter," he started the long speech he had carefully formulated during the last few days.
"Most people think I am a genius and a master of all kinds of magic known to wizardkind, I am but a man, and thus, fallible. While I have accumulated knowledge of a vast amount of spells due to my long life and am rather capable in Transfiguration and Potions, I sorely lack in the area of Runes. Yes, I know a lot of ward patterns to use, but I lack the formal education in that areas, something I sorely regret, but lack the time and energy to correct," Dumbledore began his monologue, seemingly looking absently-mindedly out of the window.
Harry took the opportunity of the Headmaster's eyes being averted to look at the man; he was rather shocked to see how old the man seemed, and how spent he looked. That was exactly the effect the Headmaster had hoped for. His position in front of the window was chosen carefully. The harsh light in contrast to the dim lighting of the rest of the office made him look much older, and he had carefully increased the effect by staying up all night, taking care of some of the paperwork he had neglected over the summer. The Malfoy boy actually had done Dumbledore a favour by creating this incident. He hoped that the pair would think this was a spontaneous meeting instead of a carefully planned one.
"About fifteen years ago, that particular lack of knowledge came to roost when I was frantically looking for a way to protect the child of some fallen friends. Looking for some way to cement the protection Mister Potter's mother has left him, I found a pattern to bind someone's blood to wards," he said, ignoring the surprised look Professor McGonagall sent him at this admission.
"I was ecstatic - that would make these wards not only very powerful, but also nigh impenetrable to Voldemort, as it would include the power of the mother's sacrifice in the wards. And I was right - they stopped three attempts at your life before you were four, and by then, all attempts ceased."
After having said this, Dumbledore shook himself and turned back to face his guests. Minerva's deprecating expression was expected, but he had come to the conclusion that it would be less damaging if she heard it like this, instead as an accusation of malice by the kids. Still, it did hurt.
He warily looked at Harry, his feigned remorse so visible on his face that Harry didn't have the heart to look away instantly. That slight gesture made the elderly man's eyes light up with a small smile of well hidden triumph, and made him continue to speak.
"I honestly didn't know about the side effects this would result in. Since you still showed powerful accidental magic, and performed rather well at Hogwarts, I never would have thought that something was amiss. I know now that those draining effects must have been the worst when you stayed at Privet Drive and that powerless feeling must have been horrible for you," he said sorrowfully, sighing at that point to increase the dramatics.
"And for that, and the pain the release ritual you obviously went through must have caused you, I do apologize with all of my heart. I now can fully understand why you lost trust in me," Dumbledore finally said.
Harry had to keep from smiling when he realized that Dumbledore had once again come to the wrong conclusion. His hand was squeezed by Hermione, and with a short exchange of glances and a shake of his head, they agreed that they shouldn't tell him.
Seeing the couple exchange some meaningful looks, Albus Dumbledore sighed. He knew that Harry was still upset, since the boy had most obviously just signalled his girlfriend that he wasn't inclined to forgive him, yet. He really should have looked up those wards earlier and have helped with the release ritual, himself, maybe right after the tournament incident. Or after Sirius' death. This would have helped him tremendously in regaining the boy's trust. 'Water under the bridge...' he sighed. With the situation this desperate, he would need to make a concession.
'An insignificant one, at first,' he told himself, suppressing his smile. After all, he already had confirmed his suspicion that they went somewhere out of Britain by reading the Weasley girl. He assumed they went to where Sirius went hiding - which indicated that they were in the Caribbean, somewhere - he had nearly forgotten about the bird Black used when he reported in after his escape. He also knew that the Lovegood girl probably knew something, maybe even more than Miss Weasley, but he would never, ever, try to read that girl again.
"I feel I have to make amends to you because of this. In order to prove my good intentions, I will cease to ask about your whereabouts and residence last summer," Dumbledore spoke, his chest heaving as if it took him a lot of effort to let go of this topic. He gravely sighed, trying to increase the image he had put forward, before he spoke again, as if it were an afterthought, "But I hope you will be inclined to tell me how I could reach you, come next summer, in order to stay in contact in case of a sudden emergency or interesting news," he said.
Knowing very well from their reaction that this wasn't enough, Dumbledore knew he had to make another sacrifice. 'And since they wouldn't make eye contact, anyway...' he thought, with another suppressed smile.
"And in order to calm your last fears about me," Dumbledore told the kids, before slowly reaching for his wand.
Harry and Hermione tensed slightly, their hands inching towards their own wands, but Dumbledore kept his wand in only two fingers, and pointed downward. Sighing in an overly dramatic, defeated way, Dumbledore gave them an oath he believed to be necessary, but acceptable. "I swear that I will not use Legilimency on any of you. On my magic, so mote it be!"
"I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive an old man for his presumptuousness and mistakes," Headmaster Dumbledore said when the flash of his oath had dissipated.
Harry was still a bit cautious; there were at least two or three ways he could think of on the fly to circumvent that oath. Pondering whether to trust the man or not, his eyes fell on the figure of Fawkes sitting on his perch in the corner. The fact that the bird hadn't left the Headmaster put his mind a bit at ease, and since he knew would probably need the Headmaster's help to survive Voldemort, he chose to take the high ground and offer an olive branch. He simply stood up and offered his hand. Dumbledore took but a second to stand and reach out, himself. After shaking it a few times, each time smiling a bit brighter, he released the hand and sat down.
"Thank you, my boy. Merlin knows that I needed some good news after the long discussion I just had with Professor Snape," Dumbledore chuckled. "To say that he was very upset about that incident at breakfast would be quite an understatement."
Casually coasting over the fact that he hadn't mentioned that incident until now, he turned to address Hermione. "That said; I apologize about what happened, Miss Granger. Something like that will never happen again, I assure you."
Hermione bristled at that. "While I appreciate the sentiment, I cannot believe that, Headmaster. As long as Malfoy can get away with anything, he will continue," she said testily.
"I wouldn't say that he can get away with everything. You surely are exaggerating a bit, quite understandable, I say, but nonetheless," Dumbledore replied, only digging his grave deeper as Hermione didn't relent, but bristled, with her renewed ire now completely directed at the elderly man in front of her.
"Really?" she asked coldly, her eyes squinting dangerously before she started to count points off on her fingers.
"He openly supports Voldemort; he has acted hostile against anyone not of pure blood ever since first year; every time he insults someone, Professor Snape hovers nearby to deal out punishment against anybody who dares to retaliate. Why, that little arrogant jerk is still Prefect, even after he blatantly abused his position in the inquisitorial squad to terrorize other students last year!" she nearly shrieked at the end.
"I still believe that he might be reformed if we don't vilify him and show him the error of his ways," Dumbledore fidgeted, looking down at his folded hands in his lap.
Even Professor McGonagall snorted at this point. "And how do you think he will ever change when he can do as he pleases without consequences? I appealed to you on this many times already, Albus! At least strip him of his prefectship, the incident today would be enough to have anybody removed," she told Dumbledore sharply, using her honed staring technique.
"But what would that prove? It would only drive him away faster," Dumbledore stubbornly stood by his opinion.
"It would prove that misbehaviour is going to get punished. It would prove that you care about the innocent, instead of just the guilty. I would bet Knuts for Galleons that he even carries the Dark Mark already," Harry said. The way that the Headmaster looked away for a short moment made him stop and stare at the man. He sincerely hoped that he had misread the man's body language, but Professor McGonagall's shout of outrage proved his assumption.
"Albus - how could you! You let a marked Death Eater into this school?"
"He still can be reformed - he is just young and confused," Dumbledore insisted.
Professor McGonagall glared wordlessly at her boss for a few seconds before she addressed the two students present, but without removing her eyes from him. "I believe you two should return to your common room. Your discussion with the Headmaster can wait until later, I have something administrative to discuss with him first," she nearly growled, her look at the Headmaster intensifying by the second.
"Now!" she hissed as the two didn't react immediately.
Smiling softly, Harry rose and helped Hermione to her feet, an unnecessary, but appreciated gesture. They gave their goodbyes and turned to leave, but Harry stopped again.
"Just one more thing, Headmaster - I meant what I said, Draco has one last chance. The next stupid stunt will be his last. You better inform Professor Snape of this so he can have a word with his protégé," he said, and led Hermione out. He could nearly feel the impact of the silencing charm on the door as soon as it fell shut. The Headmaster was really in for it.
ooOOoo
"Did you notice?" Harry asked in a whisper as they were a few steps away from the staircase.
"You mean his hand? Honestly, that would be hard not to notice at this distance. If we weren't so careful not to look at him, we would have seen at the first meeting, already," Hermione huffed. "The skin looked like parchment to me," she added.
"Yes, and it felt like it, too, dry and brittle, like a twig - and it was cold to the touch. It wasn't looking like that when we met after the ministry battle. I wonder what the story behind that is," he mused as he led his girlfriend around the corner and in a particular direction. Hermione's eyes lit up as she noticed the current course they were on, and gave his arm an affectionate squeeze.
"It might be interesting to bring it up later. But I doubt he would tell us. Really, that man can drive a nun to murder with his passive-aggressive evasive routine," Hermione huffed. "I swear, if we didn't need to pick his brain so badly – Really! Did you notice the vague oath he had given to placate us? Honestly, does he think we are stupid? I swear, I could tell you a dozen ways on the spot how he could circumvent it, not considering the inherent feasibility…" Hermione started ranting about the Headmaster, while Harry just hugged her closer and smiled at her antics as they continued towards their target.
ooOOoo
They spent the rest of their free period in the library, where Hermione made Harry study for their Defence NEWT, something Harry didn't need much pushing with. Since they were at approximately the same level in the theoretical part of that course, it was a rather productive hour they spent there. Hermione had made them a study schedule for their year, and was estimating them being ready for their NEWTs in April, May - tops.
The prospect of finishing some classes a year early made Hermione positively giddy, and Harry greatly benefited from that once they left the library. He found out that there were twelve cupboards on the way back to the Common Room, for instance.
At lunch, Dumbledore casually announced that Blaise Zabini was taking over the sixth year male Slytherin prefect position, but without stating any reason. After all, everybody knew the reason; the incident was more than public. Draco looked murderous, Snape just glared at Harry, and McGonagall looked suspiciously smug.
ooOOoo
A few days later, Hermione had finished the Potions Book, and after some research in the library and some test potions brewed proved the addendums to be right, she copied them into her own book. Harry planned to do so as well, once his own copy would finally arrive. The old book had some pages that barely held on, and - except for the additions - was the same as the newer version. They tried some very interesting spells described in it, but also had a discussion about who the 'Halfblood Prince', the last owner according to the inscription inside the book, could have been. Harry claimed that a 'Prince' should be male, but Hermione differed. They decided to agree to disagree after a heated discussion, and Hermione promised that she would find out who 'she' had been in the library.
A second later, they began to make up by snogging, ignoring the wolf-whistles and cheers from the others in the common room.
ooOOoo
When both finished with perfect results on the Anti-snoring potion the next class, Slughorn nearly soiled himself while he praised both to the skies. After class, he made both accept invitations to an informal meeting at his quarters in about a week.
He tried to be charming by telling Hermione that he had expected her to be there anyway as partner of Harry, but only thought it to be polite to invite her on her own. Hermione smiled, but looked right through that flimsy attempt to woo her.
*** September 12th ***
Professor McGonagall stood outside the Charms classroom, waiting, when the Gryffindor students vacated said room. "Miss Granger, Mister Potter, could we have word, please?" she curtly spoke as she spotted them in the crowd.
"Of course, Professor," Hermione replied brightly.
Professor McGonagall waited a few moments until most of the students were out of immediate earshot, before she came to the point. "Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to escort you to another meeting, tonight after dinner," she said, her face even harder than usual. Hermione was slightly disturbed by that sight, and more than puzzled, until she finally came to a sudden realization.
"Oh! We're sorry, Professor. Of course, all these meetings are cutting into your schedule!" she gasped. After a short moment of introspection, she turned to Harry. "Do we really need to draw on Professor McGonagall? I mean, we do have a truce with the Headmaster, so to speak," she asked, winking surreptitiously at him out of sight of their head of house.
"Of course not. Please accept our apologies for the inconvenience caused and our sincere thanks for your assistance in this matter," Harry addressed their Professor. The stern woman actually gave him a slight smile in response.
"Very well, Mister Potter. I shall retire to my office, then. Please do not hesitate to call on me if you find yourself in need of my assistance again. Miss Granger, Mister Potter," she said, nodded and walked away in a brisk pace.
"What exactly was this?" Harry inquired as soon as they were alone, steering her towards the longer route to the library.
"Harry, honestly. I think I shall introduce you to the works of Machiavelli," Hermione laughed as she hooked her arm into his.
"That's the dictatorship guy, isn't he?"
"That's a really simplistic view, but it is essentially correct," Hermione replied mirthfully.
"How about you tell me why we now are without a chaperone, and I read it up later?"
"Don't play stupid. We didn't get her on our side just to alienate her again by needlessly wasting her time," Hermione admonished him. Harry smiled impishly as he ducked his head in reply. Hermione shook her head with bright laughter as he did so.
"And if Dumbledore reneges on his promise?"
"Then she will come down on our side of the fence. We are the ones making the peace offering here, remember?"
"Right, so we'll face him alone, this time," Harry replied evenly as they took the last turn and came in sight of the library. "And the next times - I'm afraid Dumbledore has made a standing appointment for these meetings," he chuckled.
Hermione laughed along with Harry, but couldn't dismiss that theory out of hand.
*** later, the Headmaster's office ***
"Mister Potter, Miss Granger! Please come in - take a seat!" Albus Dumbledore was his jovial self, the former disagreement forgotten as if there never had been any.
"Where is Professor McGonagall? I thought she would accompany you?" He asked when he noticed that they had showed up without a chaperone.
"As we have come to an agreement, we thought it wouldn't be necessary to waste her time," Harry warily replied, still a bit wary that Dumbledore might change his mind again. Nonetheless, he smiled friendly and did as they had been told.
"Indeed, my boy, indeed," Dumbledore said with a satisfied smile before he spoke the magical words that marked the start of a meeting in his office.
"Care for a lemon drop?"
Both teens declined politely, something Dumbledore took in stride. After all, less than a handful had taken him up on this offer for a decade, at least. That only meant more drops for him.
"It elates my old heart to see that we can put our differences aside and work together for the good of all people," Dumbledore began with great pathos, something he was famous for. That and the garish colours he usually wore. The baby-blue robes with green moving stars on it that he wore today were no exception to that rule.
"I have planned, during the early summer, for us to review some memories of Voldemort and his past, in order to understand our enemy better. I had planned to start these reviews as soon as you had set foot into Hogwarts, but alas, most plans never survive contact with reality, they say," he spoke as he rose from his throne-like seat. Behind his back, he missed the two pairs of eyes rolling silently at his cheap shot at guilt-tripping them.
"I'd like to start with the memory of Bob Ogden, an Employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Thankfully, I was able to persuade him to cede these memories to our cause," Dumbledore said while opening the cabinet that stored his pensive.
"What is it about?" Hermione asked enquiringly. She never had used a pensive before and was eager to have that experience, eyeing the huge stone basin hungrily.
"It is about a visit he had made during his active years in the Department," Dumbledore said, while he poured a silvery liquid into the pensive and stirred it with his wand.
"Is it safe to enter that memory? Can we get hurt inside of this?" Hermione asked, pointing at the bowl that was only a foot and half in diameter.
"As Mister Potter can attest, it's not painful, and quite safe. We can't interact with it, nor can we be harmed in any way. While in there, we are bodily there and at the same time, we are not. For instance, we can't even cast spells. I can also assure you that we will be expelled from the pensive as soon as the memory has ended," Dumbledore said, chuckling at her expression.
While feeling slightly more confident after that explanation, Hermione still was shocked when Dumbledore was sucked into the bowl like into a giant vacuum hose. Harry cast a few powerful locking spells at the doors and windows, just in case, and then followed the Headmaster without a second thought. Showing her Gryffindor traits, she swallowed her fear and did like he did, landing next to Harry - after a few seconds of falling through some kind of mist, like some weird kind of portkey travel - on some lane in the country, Dumbledore stood next to them.
Amazed, they were watching the incident of Ogden entering the Gaunt house - or better hovel - occupied by Marvolo Gaunt, his son Morfin and daughter Merope, trying to arrest the younger Gaunt man for hexing a Muggle. Harry had to translate partially, since all the Gaunt's seemed to be Parselmouths and were talking parseltongue amongst each other. The whole thing rapidly escalated into a scene of domestic violence as the father started to lay into his near squib daughter for being attracted to a Muggle named Tom Riddle, and culminated in a pell-mell escape by Ogden as the men turned their rage on him. It took not long until they felt a soaring feeling, and then landed hard on their feet in the Headmaster's office.
Surprisingly, Dumbledore said nothing when Harry removed the locking charms from the doors and windows.
A few minutes later, Dumbledore had explained who they had met in that hovel near Little Hangleton, and how the rest of that story turned out, with Merope seducing Tom Riddle via love-potions, which ultimately lead to the birth of Tom Marvolo Riddle. Apparently, once her pregnancy showed, she naively thought he would stay with her because of the child and quit the potions and told him about magic. Riddle left her immediately.
"Sad story," Hermione said when Dumbledore was done. "She died, didn't she? I remember something about Voldemort being raised in an orphanage, didn't you say so?"
"Yes, as far as I know, she died after giving birth - surviving only long enough to name him," Dumbledore sadly said, taking a seat at his desk. "But that is a tale for another evening."
"Very well, a good evening to you, Headmaster," Harry replied, raising from the seat and extending a hand to his girlfriend. Once she was on her feet, they moved to leave the office, when Harry's eye fell on some trinket on a shelf behind Dumbledore. Although it had apparently seen some fire damage, and had a crack in the stone, it was still recognizable.
"Hey, isn't that the ring Marvolo wore?"
Dumbledore raised his head from a paper he was reading. "Please? Oh, this ring - yes, it is. I came into its possession early this July."
"Funny coincidence," Harry said, as he opened the door and led Hermione out. "We have Merope's locket at home."