Chapter: 4
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Hermione and Ron went up to the owlery with a quill and piece of parchment at the ready. Together, heads bent over their letter, the two of them sat on the ledge outside the owlery door and composed the message that would travel to the Burrow to hopefully secure Harry s sanctuary over the summer holiday. Ron was scribbling in his barely legible scrawl while Hermione sat with Pigwidgeon in her lap, clasped between her hands to still the Scoop owl s neurotic bouncing and hooting. Even restrained, the bird still bobbed his head and flailed his taloned feet like a beetle on its back.
Bloody nuisance, Dad leaving in the middle of the night like that, Ron grumbled as he began to roll up the finished parchment, coulda just asked him outright while he was here.
Your dad works for the ministry, makes sense he d have to get back straight away, wouldn t it?
Ron didn t answer, instead leaned in to capture one of Pig s restless legs and tied the letter to it. Take this home to Mum, Pig, and don t get lost, you ruddy bird.
Pig fanned his tail feathers, held back from doing much else, and Hermione opened her fingers to let him go. At once the bird took to the air, making one wild loop before zooming toward the horizon. Hermione watched the twitchy little owl going then turned when a rustle of feathers to her right drew her attention. Hedwig had alighted on the ledge beside Hermione and was looking out reproachfully, with mild disgust, at Pig. Hedwig turned her beautiful amber eyes up to Hermione. Harry s devoted snowy owl looked worried, as though she was fully aware of all that had recently befallen her master. Being a wizard s familiar, perhaps she was. The owl also looked disdainful that the welfare of her master was in the claws of that idiot bird.
Hermione stroked Hedwig s soft, pure white feathers. I d have rather sent you, Hedwig, but neither of us asked Harry if it would have been all right and we wanted that letter off as soon as possible.
Hedwig blinked but seemed to grudgingly agree. She blinked again and ruffled her feathers under Hermione s slender fingers.
Hermione looked once more after Pig (who was now a black spec in the sky), then she dropped down from the ledge. Come on, she said to Ron, let s go find Dumbledore and let him know we mean for Harry to go home with you this summer. It wasn t even a matter of asking but of insisting. Hermione couldn t fathom being overruled on this, not even by Dumbledore.
Hedwig took a couple of steps across the ledge closer to where Hermione stood and reached out to gently nibble on her shoulder. It was clearly meant to communicate appreciation for their efforts of Harry s behalf.
Ron jumped down to accompany Hermione and Hermione gave Hedwig a last pet before they set off for the castle again.
Madam Pomfrey stuck her head out of her office when she heard the doors to the hospital wing open.
Oh. I should have known it would be no good trying to keep you two out, the old witch said when she saw Hermione and Ron enter. Ron gave Madam Pomfrey a rather plaintive look, as though trying to puppy-dog face his way into getting to visit Harry. Hermione took a different approach. Her face was stolid and stony; she defied Pomfrey to tell her to leave.
Either one or the other, both, or neither worked, but whatever the case it didn t really matter because Pomfrey just gave a shake of her head and didn t pester the two students further.
Hermione and Ron found Harry reclined on a bed to the left of the entrance, the sole occupant in the hospital wing. Hermione couldn t ignore how alone he looked. She wanted to hug him, let him know he wasn t alone, soothe him and reassure him, but she knew if she succumbed to that impulse it would be for her benefit and not his. He was alone and despondent but he was also used to it. He d started summer holiday early; the only thing missing was the physical presence of the Dursleys.
Harry looked up as his two friends came to his bed. Hi, guys.
How are you feeling, Harry?
Ron rolled his eyes before Harry could answer. Oh, lay off him, Hermione. He s going to go spare with you asking that every time you see him.
Hermione shot a glare at Ron but Harry only smirked, faintly and humorlessly, but it was a lot better than he d been doing yesterday.
For your information, Ronald, what I meant was what did Pomfrey say?
Harry s expression closed and he gave a one-shouldered shrug. Pretty much the same she said last night. Potions and charms don t work against the Cruciatus, Voldemort s a bastard.
Bloody right, Ron muttered.
Did she seem to think you were better? Hermione pressed.
Harry sighed and somehow it seemed to suddenly, viciously exclude Ron from their discussion. A bit. Nothing I couldn t have told her, though. I do feel better. Down to feeling like I took a bludger during a match and fell off my Firebolt.
Ouch, Ron hissed. Hermione frowned, her eyes never leaving Harry while he rubbed the topside of his right forearm with his left hand. She opened her mouth to say something else but changed her mind.
Well, this should make you feel even better, Ron began, and Hermione moved a few inches aside as though to give Ron the floor. In a sense, it was his heroic moment and she would let him have it. Harry looked up, semi-interested in what Ron was saying. Ron was emboldened. Hermione and I went to Dumbledore and told him that there wasn t a chance we d be letting you go back to the Dursleys this summer after well, you know, after what happened. Insisted you be allowed to come to the Burrow with me, demanded it, didn t we, Hermione? Said there wasn t any bloody way we d have you at that dreadful house all holiday.
During Ron s speech Harry s expression grew increasingly alert and attentive. The light that ignited in his eyes wasn t so much joy as intensity. He was catching every nuance, every word, every unspoken meaning. Ron was oblivious; Hermione was merely watchful.
So we kept at him until Dumbledore agreed and said you could spend the whole holiday with me and my family at the Burrow, Ron finished.
Harry didn t answer right away. His eyes cut to Hermione and his gaze held on her what seemed a long time. It was strangely discomfiting and Hermione covered her odd blush by clearing her throat. It wasn t honestly that difficult. Convincing Dumbledore you should go home with Ron, that is. He seemed to think it was a good idea.
Harry finally tore his eyes from Hermione. He looked at Ron and gave a friendly nod and smile. Thanks a bunch, Ron. It ll be nice not having to go back to Privet Drive.
Ron grinned. Right on that count, mate. I ve owled Mum asking if you could come. She hasn t owled back yet, but of course she ll say you can. Mum wouldn t turn you away. And it ll be great, having you there all summer. We can play wizard s chess, practice Quidditch, skive off on chores, all sorts of fun stuff.
Harry settled back on the pillows propping his torso up. I appreciate it. Harry cast another sharp, burning glance at Hermione. She met his eyes and gave a fleeting half-smile.
Ron left to tell the twins and Ginny they d be having company that summer. Hermione stayed behind with Harry. Once Ron was gone she moved to the side of the bed and sat on the edge. Harry scooted over to give her room but her hip still ended up touching his outer thigh.
I know that was your idea, Harry finally said.
Hermione smiled at him. I m just trying to help you, Harry.
You are. Seriously, thank you.
Hermione looked down at her lap with the remnants of her smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She didn t know what else to say. She saw Harry stop rubbing his injured arm, saw his right hand move in her direction, waver, and Hermione met him half-way. She reached out her right hand and silently took his hand in hers. Harry curled his fingers around hers and they sat like that a minute, unspeaking and unmoving but for the faint shifting of their connected hands.
Their companionable silence was broken by the doors to the hospital wing opening. Hermione turned her head and saw Dumbledore enter. Pomfrey saw the headmaster as well and took up at his side. Both adults reached Harry s bedside side by side. Dumbledore s eyes moved from Harry to Hermione sitting next to him then to their hands still twined together. Hermione made the barest of movements to pull her hand free but Harry s hold didn t loosen. She took it as indication that he didn t want her to draw away and with that unvoiced request she unwaveringly continued to hold Harry s hand. They were friends and Harry had almost been killed; not even prudish Pomfrey could blame them.
Dumbledore s gaze returned to Harry s face. I take it Miss Grange and Mister Weasley told you the good news?
About going to the Burrow this summer? Yeah.
I can imagine it comes as a relief.
Harry looked down with something akin to embarrassment on his face. He had a terrible home-life at the Dursleys and everyone knew it. Or at least Dumbledore knew, and that was enough at that moment.
Hermione didn t like the sudden shift and gave Harry s hand a squeeze. She looked up at Dumbledore, annoyed that the gentle old wizard could so inadvertently and casually wound Harry.
Dumbledore returned Hermione s look and, oddly, began to chuckle.
Hermione frowned and Harry looked up, embarrassment replaced with confusion.
I daresay you ve awakened some new dimension of maternal instinct in Miss Granger with recent events, Harry.
Hermione ducked her head and blushed. She hadn t known her look toward Dumbledore had been so transparent. Harry looked to Hermione, their eyes met discretely a second, and he gave a fleeting, private smile that made Hermione s abashment at Dumbledore s comment vanish entirely.
She put in quite a campaign for you when she and Mister Weasley came to see me a short time ago. Shouldn t have been surprised if she d drawn her wand on me if I hadn t agreed to your summer holiday accommodations. I suspect the only thing that held her in check was the fact her final scores for this term are still undecided. Well, that and I completely agreed with her. A commendable friend to have in your corner. Dumbledore gave a sincere nod to Hermione and it bolstered her, made her sit up straighter and prouder.
I know, Harry replied plainly.
Hermione was back to feeling embarrassed and decided to make a break for it. She tugged her hand out from Harry s hold and stood. Well, I had some things I wanted to tend to before summer holiday. I should go see to them. Thank you again, Headmaster.
When Hermione moved to leave, Harry, for the first time, showed signs of animation more expansive than a shoulder-shrug. He sat up and turned on the bed to let his legs hang over the edge. Madam Pomfrey, may I leave now?
Pomfrey s cheeks puffed as she chewed on her distaste of that idea, but she could not change the fact that there wasn t anything medically she could do for him. The mediwitch looked toward Hermione, who had stopped at Harry s request, then gave a huff and hand wave. Oh, very well.
Harry stood and looked toward Dumbledore. Was there anything else, sir?
Dumbledore s eyes were twinkling. No, no, Harry. You can go.
Harry nodded and looked at Hermione standing beyond Pomfrey and Dumbledore. Their gazes locked and silent communication flared. Hermione waited for him. When Harry caught up with her they both headed toward the doors shoulder to shoulder. Only once they were in the hall did Harry ask, Where are you going? Care for company?
Hermione had that bothersome urge to hug him again. You know I don t mind you coming along, but I m going to the library. Hermione gave her destination like it was an undesirable place. For Harry, it wasn t exactly the Quidditch pitch, and it would have been enough to send Ron running.
Harry, rather than groan or look glum, smirked. Shoulda known you d want to go to the library even though classes are over. Well, let s go, then.
Hermione moved in to Harry s side and curled her arm around his. It wasn t quite the affirming hug she kept feeling inclined to give him, but it seemed to appease that beast within her that needed physical contact to prove he was still okay.
The next day was Cedric s memorial service. His parents had already taken his body home for the funeral, but the students were gathered in the Great Hall to pay tribute to their fallen comrade. It was then that Dumbledore told the rest of the student body, as well as the representatives of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, what had happened that night in the maze. About Voldemort and Cedric s end at the tip of the Avada Kedavra.
Hermione sat beside Harry and heard Dumbledore s voice, but she didn t hear the words. She knew them already. Her attention stayed on Harry. She d dreaded this. Her dream haunted the edges of her thoughts, and she half-expected to be able to turn and see Cedric s lifeless eyes locked on her from the back of the room. She heard people crying, she knew she was, too, but her main concern was Harry. How would everyone react when they knew what he d seen in the graveyard? Could anyone who wasn t Harry handle that kind of news? They were all kids, frightened children, next to what Harry had endured his entire life. He shouldn t have to depend on their ability to cope. His life shouldn t be made harder by their inability to handle the truth. Hermione wanted to ferry him away, out of the reach of their taunts and eyes and whispers.
But, as always, Harry proved stronger than for which Hermione gave him credit. He didn t cry, didn t cringe, didn t hide. He sat there and remembered Cedric. He paid tribute as no one else in the Great Hall to their lost classmate.
And if there was to be a backlash from the students toward Harry after hearing the truth, it seemed there was an acclimation period before anyone braved to broach the subject with him. No one gave Harry grief, not even the detestable Slytherins. They weren t comfortable around him, they steered clear and gave him a wide berth, but that was fine. Hermione and Ron were there, and Neville, Ginny, Fred, George, Dean, and Seamus were almost the same as ever. Harry had his buffer of tried and true friends among the students. It would hold until the summer holiday.
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Chapter: 5
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That night in the common room, two days before they would be heading home for summer holiday, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the last ones in the Gryffindor tower still awake, clustered around the hearth fire. Ron was on the rug, on his back with his hands interlaced behind his head, while Harry and Hermione were on the couch. None of the three were talking, but a tension did permeate the air around them. Hermione was anxious about the idea of Harry leaving in two days for the Burrow only because she wouldn t see him until next term. She knew he d be better off at the Burrow, safe and nurtured by the eminently maternal Molly Weasley, but that didn t appease the griffin in her chest that told her she needed to keep Harry close. She knew it was silly and didn t say anything to either Ron or Harry about it, but it dampened her mood and she could tell the boys noticed. Well, Ron didn t notice so much as pick up on the fact that the atmosphere was a little drearier, because Harry did notice and he d been quieter for Hermione s grumpiness. It was just as well they d be leaving for the holidays soon; Hermione was throwing the boys off with her mood. And once she was home she could rest assured that Molly Weasley would be like a hawk when it came to Harry s well-being.
Hermione tucked her leg up underneath her on the cushion and glanced over at Harry. He was in his pajamas, a tatty old hand-me-down T-shirt from Dudley and flannel pants. Unbidden, Hermione noticed the way his shirt hung on his body. Since that first night after Voldemort, the unspeakable night she would never mention to anyone, she discovered she just noticed Harry more acutely than she used to. It was simply that details she never really attended to before suddenly jumped out and she noticed. She also discovered what would probably be considered a guilty pleasure. She liked noticing Harry, the way his hair fell and his body moved and his expression waxed. It was comforting to see him in subtle motion as he was now, breathing and blinking and thinking in the firelight. Somehow it made things right for the time.
Harry was watching her at that very moment, and Hermione tried to remember if he d been watching her the entire time or just happened to look when she noticed. He watched her rather frequently. Did Harry use to watch her before and she hadn t noticed? She didn t know, but she didn t mind. It wasn t uncomfortable to find him watching her. Watching her just for the sake of watching, the simple act of absently observing. That seemed strange in the same way it was strange that she didn t get flustered when Harry caught her watching him. Maybe for the right to openly watch him, she likewise gave him unspoken permission to watch her in much the same way. And since it was mutual, it was okay.
Both were startled when there was a frantic tapping on the tower window. Ron jerked and looked over his head toward the window. Oh, good, about time. He rolled to his feet and went to the window. When he opened it, Pigwidgeon came darting in excitedly. He made a few circles of the room before Ron could catch him and remove the note tied to the bird s leg. Once he had the paper he let the bird go and Pig twittered then flew out the open window.
Ron unrolled the scroll with a loathsome look toward the retreating Pig. Oh, good, it s from Mum. Let s see Ron s eyes scanned as he read. Great! Just like I said, Harry, you can stay. Never doubted it for a second. Mum ll be picking you up from King s Cross with the rest of us. Oh, wait Ron read further. Hey! We re going on a vacation! All of us, I mean. Wow, I didn t figure we d get to go on another trip so soon after Egypt. Not for another few years, for sure. No worries, mate, you re invited along, naturally.
Where are you going? Hermione asked.
Romania. Cool! Harry, looks like we ll be spending half the summer holiday with Charlie. Ron quickly read a passage in the letter. What with the tournament uh well, on account of that, the lair director, Charlie s boss over in Romania, is letting the dragon-keepers have guests over to test out a kind of public relations program to raise interest in dragon-keeping. Ron read silently a moment. Wow, looks a bit like the dragon overseers are hoping the use of dragons in the you know, the tournament, will get more people interested in working with them. Does seem a bit off-balance that the Aurors get all the attention for dangerous jobs, after all, what with fire-breathing dragons!
In any case, it means we get to spend half of summer holiday in Romania finding out what it s like to work with dragons! How bloody brilliant is that? A bit scary, of course, but not all dragons can be like the ones used this year, could they?
Hermione could see Ron was quickly getting hyped up about the prospect of a vacation. She knew it wasn t Romania or the dragons in themselves that had him excited, but more the act of going. It was what normal, well-off families would do, spend part of their vacation in another country. That would be all Ron noticed or cared about. Hermione looked toward Harry to get his reaction and found him almost unnaturally still. He was staring into the fire, as though actively trying to be motionless, the only flicker of life a pensive look in his eyes.
At long delay Harry looked up at the exuberant redhead. Sounds great, Ron. Despite the words, the tone was grave and low. Even Ron, in his state, noticed and his energy lagged.
Harry frowned to himself. But well, I think I d better just go back to Privet Drive.
Ron s mouth opened in shock and Hermione s eyes widened. Harry didn t say a word.
What?! Ron ejaculated. He gaped and blinked. You can t bloody mean that. Why would you want to do that?
Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable and shifted his gaze away from his friend. It s just that I don t really fancy a holiday in Romania surrounded by dragons. To be honest, I had quite my fill of dragons after that Hungarian Horntail.
Ron paled then looked down at the note longingly. Hermione could see him debating with himself, torn between what he should do as a friend and what he selfishly wanted to do.
Well I don t imagine we have to go, Ron finally took the high road. Not without a tone of regret and obvious reluctance, however. I mean, if we explained to Mum
No, Harry interrupted. No, you guys don t get to see Charlie enough. You all ought to go. I won t let you cancel this vacation for me. Harry gave Ron a smile. Go, Ron. I ll be fine. Don t worry, no problem.
Ron frowned. Hermione willed Ron to take up the gauntlet.
Well, if you re sure
Harry nodded. Definite. Have a good time and watch yourself, I can t abide by those dragons much.
Ron s shoulders slumped but he didn t fight. He sighed in defeat instead. All right then. Well, I better owl Mum back and let her know that you won t be coming. She ll be disappointed, I know, she really does fret over you, Harry. Ginny ll be down-right gloomy.
Ron went upstairs, changed, then headed out of the common room to go to the owlery and get Pig. Hermione and Harry were left alone with only the loud cracks and pops in the fireplace to break the silence.
Hermione sat beside Harry and quaked inside. Her efforts seemed to have evaporated around her and Harry was back to doomed to that wretched family for the summer. She wanted to be furious with Ron but she couldn t very well expect his whole family to not see Charlie when the chance presented itself. Harry was right, the Weasleys didn t see much of Charlie, what with the oldest son living in Romania. Hermione was angry that she couldn t get angry.
Harry was subdued. He was resigned. He was back to his pre-holiday mental preparations. Hermione sighed in consternation.
Harry, without turned to look at her, cocked his head in query.
Are you sure about this, Harry?
Harry s mouth tightened. Yeah, I am.
Surely dragons couldn t be all that bad.
Harry turned to look at her, and his eyes were unflinching while at the same time begged for understanding. Your opinion tends to change after one has spit fire at you and tried to tear you limb for limb. I just well, it may sound foolish but I know I d just be waiting for another one to start in on me like that Horntail and I d just as soon not spend all holiday waiting to be attacked. My chances are better at the Dursleys, I think. Harry laughed sardonically. Less chance of dodgy nerves at the Dursleys.
Hermione wanted to cry or scream, she wasn t sure which, so she sat there and frowned.
Harry looked away and stood. I m turning in. Goodnight, Hermione.
Hermione watched Harry trudge up the stairs. Her mind worked furiously. After all of three seconds she jumped up from the couch and hurried up the girls dorm. She dressed quickly then left the Gryffindor tower.
Dumbledore better still be awake.
Come in.
Hermione hesitated only momentarily at the beckon from the other side of Dumbledore s office door. The knocker she had just used had wagged its tongue against her palm and Hermione wiped the slobber from her hand as she pushed her way into the headmaster s office. The portraits were all sleeping and it lent an air of almost tomb-like quiet to what would be the normal state of a muggle room. The headmaster was in a baby s breath blue night robe, standing behind his desk feeding Fawkes. He turned his head when she entered. Ah, Miss Granger. You re about the castle particularly late, and I must commend your athleticism in evading Missus Norris and Filch at such an hour. Please, sit and have a lemon cake, to have made it here without detection must have worked up a dreadful appetite.
Hermione dutifully sat down and eyed the plate of lemon squares that had appeared on a table in front of her. She took one but rather than eat it she held it in her hand and watched Dumbledore.
The headmaster finished feeding his phoenix then turned to his guest. Now, as headmaster I must chide you for being out of your house tower after curfew. And now that that s out of the way, what brings you here? Dumbledore sat down at his desk and peered at Hermione over his half-moon glasses.
Hermione took a breath. She d been so head-strong and sure when she left the tower now her bravely seemed dwarfed by the headmaster s presence.
Headmaster it s about Harry.
Ahh.
Hermione put the lemon square back. Ron just got answer from his mum about Harry staying at the Burrow this summer.
She didn t decline to take Harry in. Dumbledore s eyebrows rose in the beginning state of shock, or at the very least genuine surprise.
No. Absolutely not. She said he could stay thing is, sir, that the Weasleys are going to be spending half of the holiday in Romania visiting Ron s brother Charlie at the dragon lairs.
Dumbledore nodded and waited.
Hermione sighed in irritation. And then when Harry hears this he decides he d rather go back to the Dursleys than vacation at a dragon lair. He said something about putting up with the Dursleys being worth not having to put up with the dragons. Personally, I d think dragons would be an improvement, but Harry was adamant.
Dumbledore nodded again. I can see that flummoxes you.
Well, yes sir. That family of his is rotten, you and I both know it. I d think Harry would do anything to not have to go back there. I d even think dragons would be a small price to pay.
Dumbledore steepled his fingers. If I may point out, Miss Granger, you ve never been pursued by a dragon.
Of course I haven t, but still
The concept of being hunted by a dragon and the experience of it are very different things. You ll find most who have been dragon prey find the memory quite disturbing. It s not a reaction that can be rightly or quite succinctly put into written words. No, it doesn t surprise me that Harry would choose his less-than-loving family over the dragons right now. His unpleasant encounter with a dragon is very recent, and with a Hungarian Horntail no less Don t think less of Harry for his reluctance to meet a dragon again so soon. The last time I tangled with a dragon it was eight years before I went near another one, and that was Norbert.
Hermione couldn t help but smile. Well I suppose. You re right that I can t speak to what it was like for Harry going head to head with that dragon. But still, because of that whole dragon thing he s opting to return to the Dursleys rather than spend the holiday with the Weasleys.
Sir I still feel strongly that Harry shouldn t have to go back there.
Yes, I can see you do. What do you propose?
With a jolt of determination, Hermione sat up and looked Dumbledore in the eye. I propose Harry come home with me.
Dumbledore merely watched Hermione as if she were being graded.
Of course he wouldn t be as comfortable at my house as the Burrow, as he s never been there before, but I could ask my parents and I m sure, I m almost certain, they d say yes. I could owl my mum and dad tonight and beg them to let Harry come this summer if I have to. Would that work, Headmaster?
Dumbledore did not answer right away. He ran his index finger through his beard and looked up at his sleeping portraits as though seeking their opinion. Finally, after an unbearable moment of silence, he answered. I have considered that. In fact, the moment you told me Harry decided not to go with the Weasleys I ve been turning the problem over in my head.
Problem?
I m afraid so. You see, at the Burrow Molly and Arthur are there to safeguard Harry. Magically protect him.
Hermione s heart sank. Oh.
Thus the problem. I have no doubt that your parents would be most courteous and gracious; your manner would suggest they re positively delightful muggles. But they are muggles. With Voldemort s return we can t know what is in the very near future. We must consider Harry s safety; there s nothing to say Voldemort won t try to attack Harry while he s away from the school.
Dumbledore stood and paced behind his desk. That your family is muggle, however, also bears a distinct advantage. You re of no relation to Harry the way the Dursleys are, so the connection would not be obvious. You live in a muggle home in a muggle community I would bet my favorite shower cap that neither Voldemort nor his followers would have the first clue how to use a telephone book . While Harry would be vulnerable, he d also have a measure of protection gained through the difficulty to locate him. I believe the muggle phrase is hiding in plain sight ? Dumbledore tapped his chin thoughtfully. There is still the problem of him being so defenseless should anything happen.
Is there any way the ministry could lift the ban on underage magic? Just for me and Harry? Between the two of us, I know well, I think we could manage to fend off any attackers.
I m afraid not. First, to do so we would have to inform the ministry of Harry s intended whereabouts, and to be frank we don t know where Voldemort s dormant supporters have ended up. I hate to say it, but we cannot completely trust the Ministry of Magic. Second, while I admire both Harry s skill as well as yours, particularly given your ages, you are both still students. I could not in good conscience leave you to fend for yourselves considering the possible dangers.
Just as Hermione was feeling hopeless Dumbledore stopped and his eyes twinkled meaningfully.
But there may be a way
Hermione sat up alertly.
Dumbledore turned to Hermione. Now, under any other circumstances my first inclination would be to have an Auror assigned to Harry. At present, however, that s not a wholly wise move. We ve already addressed the questionable alliances within the ministry. And we can t get you and Harry special allowance for underage magic for the same reasons. But who is able to use magic without it registering with the ministry?
Hermione thought furiously. She couldn t think of anyone who could use magic without the ministry getting wind of it. The ministry was strict about keeping and eye on people doing magic who shouldn t be or in ways they oughtn t to be. As she wracked her brain her eyes fell on the plate of lemon squares. A passage read in a book once leapt into her thoughts.
House elves! she exclaimed.
Dumbledore smiled.
But no, Hermione shook her head. Dobby used magic at Harry s house in third year and the ministry jumped down Harry s throat for it, thinking he did it.
Yes but Dobby was under the service of the Malfoys at the time and he was at the Durlseys without leave from his master to be there, and nor were his actions aimed to serve his master. That made his magic use illegal in house elf law. When a house elf performs illegal magic the ministry knows it. A house elf under command to perform magic would not register, nor would
A free elf.
Very good, Miss Granger. I trust I do not have to tell you how powerful house elf magic is?
Hermione shook her head. She knew. The house elves were restrained only by their code of conduct toward service and wizard-kind. While they wielded magic effortlessly, they seldom chose to do so outside of service to their masters. They didn t have the ferocious drive to compete that would predispose them to seek equality with wizards and witches while they inherently had the magical ability to do so. Their lives were simple as slaves, and for their service they were cared for. Their inherently unassuming nature was the reason that free elves weren t monitored. They didn t do harm because it would complicate their lives, which they d much prefer to avoid.
Hermione thought aloud, Then, do you propose Dobby
Gracious, no. Dumbledore s answer surprised Hermione. Do not mistake me, I am fond of the vivacious elf himself, but he is shall we say obsessive? I don t know if you noticed, but Dobby has developed quite a fixation on Harry. I imagine he would be more of a nuisance as Harry s watcher than a help. We must also remember that Dobby served the Malfoys. While his intentions are good, the wizards from whom he learned his magic and its uses well, no need to really speak to that, I should think.
I do have an idea for an elf that might suit our purposes.
While Hermione sat watching, Dumbledore walked to his fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo powder, and tossed it into the flames. His expression became focused and intent, indication of tapping into the power of his concentration. The fire flared green, sputtered, then a small creature bounded out of the hearth.
Hermione blinked. It was a house elf. A house elf with globular green eyes and bat-like ears more erect than Dobby s. What threw Hermione was that this elf was wearing clothes. The magical creature was wearing a pair of smiley-face boxers, they covered its body knees to chest, and strings tied to handfuls of the elastic band served as suspenders. The elf looked around the room, looked at Hermione, then turned to Dumbledore.
Master Albus! So long it s been!
Hello, Kimmy. Dumbledore knelt down beside the house elf and looked toward Hermione. Hermione, this is Kimmy. Kimmy, Hermione Granger. Kimmy has served the Dumbledores for over ninety years.
Hermione couldn t quite believe it. The Dumbledores have slaves? She could not help the reproach in her voice.
Kimmy screwed up her face and scratched at her leg while Dumbledore chuckled. Oh, Kimmy was set free a long time ago. She hasn t been owned for close to eighty years.
Hermione frowned in confusion.
Kimmy grunted. Kimmy likes working for Masters Albus and Aberforth! Kimmy stays because she loves them.
Dumbledore touched Kimmy s shoulder. I must say without Kimmy s supervision my brother Aberforth and I might well have died of malnutrition when our dear mother passed.
Kimmy looked up at him in adoration and overwhelming compassion.
These past few decades Kimmy s been looking after Aberforth. When he s there to let her, that is. Has Aber come back from his latest holiday?
Not yet, sir. He owled me these boxers two weeks ago. Kimmy proudly tugged on her boxer shorts, looked to Hermione, and boasted happily, Kimmy does love boxer shorts.
Hermione smiled.
Yes. We have tried to pay her wages for her service; the only currency she ll accept is to be paid in boxers. I d hazard to guess she has the most impressive boxer collection in Britain. Dumledore turned to address Kimmy. Kimmy, I wondered if I could impose on you for a great favor.
Anything, Master Albus. What would you like Kimmy to do?
Hermione sat quietly while Dumbledore explained Harry s predicament. She let her thoughts drift to the letter she was have to draft to her parents, how she would word her plea, when at last something new in the conversation recaptured Hermione s undivided attention.
so, Kimmy, I had hoped that you d agree to go to the Grangers this summer holiday with Harry and Hermione and make sure Harry s safe.
Kimmy bounced on the balls of her bare feet, her big ears quivering and the boxer shorts shifting on the small body. Oh! most certainly, Kimmy would be happy to.
Hermione found herself unexpectedly torn, vacillating between elated and filled with trepidation. She was sure she could convince her parents to let Harry stay, but a house elf? A house elf in a muggle home, in a muggle town, in her parents kitchen?
Dumbledore rose and smiled warmly. I can see you re wary, but you have nothing to fear from Kimmy s discretion around muggles. You see, Aberforth and I grew up near a muggle town well, within a good afternoon s walking distance, really. We made quite an adventure of moving among the quaint non-magic folk when we were young, in fact. We thought the muggles were immensely amusing, endearingly so. So fond of our excursions were we that our mother made provisions for our activities around the muggles in the guise of Kimmy here. Would you please show Hermione your muggle cover, Kimmy?
Kimmy beamed, crouched to place her hands on the floor, and before Hermione s eyes the house elf shrank, changed, and suddenly instead of the house elf there was a tan-colored Chihuahua. The bulging eyes and bat-like ears still looked remarkably like Kimmy, but they fit the breed of dog she s become so well that no one would suspect it was a house elf in disguise.
The implications struck Hermione. Harry could go anywhere and his protector would appear to be nothing more than his pet. No muggle would look twice at the little dog at Harry s side.
That s brilliant, Kimmy!
Kimmy gave a shake then transformed back, immediately rearranging her boxer overalls.
Well, Miss Granger, Kimmy would seem to solve our dilemma. I assure you, she has interacted with muggles well enough to know how to behave so as not to upset them. A better-comported house elf you d be hard-pressed to find. Now, if you can convince your parents to agree to letting Kimmy stay at your home this summer, I could certainly see my way clear to letting you take Harry back with you.
Hermione jumped up from her seat. Oh, they will, sir! I ll make sure they do. Thank you, and thank you, Kimmy. This is wonderful. This will mean so much to Harry. I m going to owl them straight away. With a grin and suddenly feeling invincible she dashed from the office and toward the owlery.
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Chapter: 6
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It was well past midnight before Hermione actually made it to the owlery. After leaving Dumbledore s office she d rushed back to the common room, retrieved several sheaves of parchment and a quill, and took up at a table normally utilized for homework where she set about composing the letter she would send to her parents. She set herself the task of getting it finished and off that very night. She wouldn t let it sit another moment. Putting together the right way to approach her parents with the idea of a boy and a house elf staying with them over the summer had required more tact and skill than she d originally anticipated. She didn t suspect her parents would be horribly opposed to Harry staying over; it was the house elf she wasn t sure about. For all their support toward Hermione and her witch status, they were still muggles and largely unacquainted with the magical world (to which house elves firmly belonged). Feeling guilty for it, but for Harry s sake not guilty enough to change her mind, she decided to omit the details on Harry s guardian. If Kimmy could remain in dog form then her parents need not be any the wiser. After all, they allowed her to have Crookshanks in the house, so a Chihuahua shouldn t be that different. After that slightly deceitful decision was made, writing the letter seemed to become a bit easier, but it still had to be just right. She couldn t abide by any letter that would fail to convince her parents to have Harry as a summer guest. It became a homework assignment, subject to the same exactness and perfection. She started several drafts that she scrapped and discarded; she began anew it seemed half a dozen times. Early in Hermione s effort, Ron had returned from owling his own mother and seen Hermione scribbling and contemplating feverishly. The look of sharp concentration on her face surely made Ron believe that its source was a textbook, for he gave an exaggerated yawn and dashed up the boys dorm stairs before Hermione could catch him. Hermione had barely spared him a glance; she had a friend to rescue.
Finally, with Crookshanks coiling around her legs and hopping on to the table to swat at the jumping feather-end of her quill, she had her letter done. She didn t even look at the time, unconcerned, as she stashed her finished note, grabbed up her cloak, and headed out of the common room.
The owlery was eerie in the black of night. The occupants, normally so docile and calm during the day, were now uncommonly active and vocal. Hermione had never visited the owlery at night and would avoid it if possible in the future. The fast, stealthy whisper of feathers rushing past her face was enough to make anyone jumpy.
Hermione peered around the darkness uselessly a moment then pulled out her wand and cast lumos. There was a wave of indignant, angry hoots at the sudden light, dark bodies shifted and moved in a wall of avian complaint. A great many owls just fled the tower entirely, a crowd of birds making for the windows and door. Hermione ducked the mob and looked up. The light found a single patch of white in shadow near the ceiling and Hermione sighed in relief at the sight of Hedwig s back.
Hedwig.
The snowy owl turned her head and looked down at Hermione. A dead rat, mangled and half-eaten, dangled from her beak.
Eww Hedwig, come down here, please.
Hedwig seemed to weigh the options, ruffled her feathers with a disgruntled shake at having to abandon her meal, then let the corpse drop to the ground twenty feet below and left her perch to fly down to Hermione. Hermione was startled when Hedwig came right at her (though Hermione couldn t imagine what else she could have expected the bird to do), and when she instinctively brought up an arm to shield her face Hedwig wrapped her feet around Hermione s forearm and landed cleanly on the girl s arm.
Hermione staggered at the unexpected weight but managed to keep from pitching Hedwig to the floor or ending up there herself. It felt horribly awkward and ungainly to have the owl on her arm. And she was surprisingly heavy. She couldn t fathom how Harry made it look so natural and effortless.
Hermione took Hedwig outside to the stone ledge, thankfully free of the fray of night raptors. She took a deep breath of clear air then opened her eyes to see Hedwig watching her intently. Her expression would almost seem to ask what did you expect in an owlery at this hour? .
Hermione pushed the thought aside and moved closer to the ledge. Not so discreetly, she rested her arm supporting Hedwig on to the ledge. Her arm was tired from only holding Hedwig a few moments. Harry s bird clucked her beak, maybe offended or disappointed at Hermione s pitiful upper body strength, but stepped off Hermione s arm and on to the ledge. Then again she fixed the girl with the same expectant amber gaze.
Hermione pulled the letter to her parents from her pocket and faced Hedwig. She took a breath. I didn t ask Harry if it would be all right to use you to send a letter, Hedwig.
Harry was supposed to spend the summer with the Weasleys, but that fell through. I wrote my parents to ask them if he could come home with me. I hoped you d take this to them as quickly as possible. I d use a school owl, but I wanted to ask if you d do it first, because you re much faster than they are.
Hedwig immediately stuck out her leg.
Hermione smiled gratefully. Thank you, Hedwig. The bird stared at her, as though to say that she agreed for Harry s sake and it was pointless, almost insulting really, to thank her for something she would do in a heartbeat.
Hermione quickly tied the scroll to Hedwig s leg. As soon as it was secure the snowy owl took off with a powerful beat of wings and quickly disappeared into the night.
Hermione remained at the ledge a long time, staring into the darkness. She knew it was unrealistic to expect Hedwig to return so soon, but she couldn t seem to pry herself away from the hope that maybe Harry s bird could do it. She was still there when most of the school s owls began returning from their night of hunting.
Harry was the first one awake in his dorm room. He d jerked out of a nightmare with his heart racing and lungs burning. He d been back in the graveyard. He had been tied, prone on his back on the ground between tombstones, and Wormtail was there with his dagger. He d said a few drops of Harry s blood weren t enough, and he d proceeded to cut Harry, peeling strips of flesh free and wrapping them around a fetus-like creature in the grass as though Pettigrew meant to recreate his lord using Harry s skin like paper mach .
When Harry reoriented to his surroundings and realized he was in fact in his bed at Hogwarts, the bitter vice of fear wrapped around his chest turned into a drowning, sour ache. His shoulders slumped as he sat up in bed, his head drooped, and his bones throbbed. It was getting better, the marrow-deep pain from the Cruciatus. Hopefully, in a day, he could be distracted from noticing it in every waking moment. And in some of his sleeping moments. The sensation of the knife peeling parts of him away had been distressingly real.
Harry s stomach flipped. He d already been distracted from it once, the only time since he d been tortured that he d honestly been able to not think about it. That first night, in this bed, with
Harry shook sharply from his thoughts. It seemed scandalous to think on it for too long, to linger on details too closely. It made his head spin, made his skin tingle strangely, made his stomach lurch. It was just dangerous to go beyond glancing blows of recollection. That entire evening and night had been too much, too many senses and feelings and extremes, everything on the brink of overload. Harry had to disconnect, detach, or he was afraid he d go a little mad. He was scared that he didn t know what he d do if he actually addressed that night, that moment, that one reprieve in agony.
A look toward the window showed blackness, but a blue-black that bespoke of impending dawn.
Harry slowly extricated himself from his bed covers. He wouldn t be able to fall back to sleep before it was time to get up again; he might as well get up. The other boys were still sound asleep. Ron s snores were accompanied by the rhythmic croaks of Neville s frog Trevor to produce a truly hideous duet. Dean and Seamus were quiet sleepers, more moving lumps than people until they stirred. Neville slept like a puppy with occasional squeaking sounds, but at the time he was quiet.
Harry crept past his dorm-mates and padded lightly down the stone stairs to while away the long hours before the day.
When he reached the foot he froze.
He d expected an empty common room at such an ungodly hour. Instead he saw Hermione. She was curled up on the couch asleep.
Unable to move, Harry stood a moment and watched her. A precursory twinge threatened to become that stomach lurch he tended to shy from. She looked peaceful, vulnerable, very purely Hermione when she didn t have to prove herself to anyone. It was a rare sight. The ever-present crinkle on her brow of complex thought was gone, leaving her expression relaxed and obscenely lovely.
Harry hadn t thought he wanted company, but he discovered he was glad Hermione was there.
He moved across the room and approached Hermione, bent to touch her shoulder to shake her awake, but at the last moment stopped. Somehow, just seeing her was enough to ease his mind. The vestiges of his nightmare were losing hold, and it seemed almost criminal to wake her when she looked so comfortable.
Harry sat down on the floor in front of the couch instead and watched her face, the way wild curls of chestnut hair fell in tendrils near her closed eyes, her cheeks the resting place for dark eyelashes and her lips slightly parted. Even at rest like this her hair was untamed. Harry could certainly commiserate with Hermione on the topic of unruly hair. Sleeping as she was, she looked so frail, and yet she was the strongest person he knew besides Dumbledore. When she set her mind to something nothing would stop Hermione Granger. He couldn t think of anyone who truly gave Hermione her due. She was more than incredible, and most would have the audacity to call her plain. She was far from it. She was unsung. Brilliant, but largely overlooked. People knew she was smart, but smart was an inadequate way to describe her. Harry, at least, knew she was amazing, even if he couldn t tell her. How he could have made it through even his first year without her he didn t know. He and Ron both owed Hermione more than either could ever repay. Yet she never tried to collect. Hermione just gave of herself
Harry s stomach jumped, letting him know his thoughts were straying into dangerous territory.
But it was true. Hermione had saved him in so many ways and he d never really thanked her.
Hermione shifted, grumbled faintly under her breath, and opened her eyes. She didn t start to find Harry a mere foot from her, she simply watched him in return a pregnant moment. Then she blinked lazily. What is it? she asked in a thick, sleepy voice.
Harry s skin prickled. I was just thinking.
Hermione stretched languidly. Harry s eyes swept the curve of her back when she arched.
Hermione resettled and sat up. About what? she asked, her voice much more normally pitched. She patted the cushion beside her and Harry moved off the floor to sit next to her. There was plenty of room on the couch for them to spread out, but Harry inexplicably found himself sitting right beside her, their sides brushing lightly. Hermione didn t seem to mind, because she didn t move away.
What are you doing down here? Harry asked. It was better than telling her what he d really been thinking. It wasn t fit to be spoken aloud. Somehow, it had the feel of the forbidden.
Hermione hesitated and bit her lip. Oh, um, I ll tell you later.
Harry looked askance at her. That kind of evasion she might pull with Ron, but she wasn t supposed to withhold things from him. Harry was paused by his own reaction. Since when? Had it always been that way? When did he start to expect her to confide in him more than Ron? But he did expect it, because Hermione talked to Harry. It only then struck Harry how true that fact had always been, and how he d taken it for granted until that very instant.
He was jolted from his thoughts when Hermione touched his right arm. The hairs at the nape of his neck tickled, but he didn t resist when Hermione gently took his arm in her lap and rotated his wrist to reveal the underside. He looked down at the fading pink of the healed knife-wound. He was too conflicted to really feel. He saw the evidence of what had happened, but it was made oddly distant by the way Hermione traced her fingertip over the mark.
When her finger neared his wrist his fingers curled of their own accord and Hermione stopped, perhaps thinking it was a silent indication of pain. Harry couldn t figure how to let her know it wasn t.
Would you go spare if I asked how you were feeling? Hermione asked gently.
Harry smiled. No. I feel Harry stopped. The first thought that had come to mind as he sat there in the quiet of the early morning, alone with Hermione at his side in the common room, had been something close to comfortable . But it seemed wrong to say that after what had happened. That shouldn t be the answer, but his first reaction had been to say that he felt kind of close to good. But the ache was still resonating dully in his muscles and bones, he still felt the edge of terror from seeing a friend killed before his eyes, he still felt the darkness that was Voldemort s magical connection to him like a sickness in his blood. He should answer that he felt dreadful.
But he didn t. Somehow, just sitting with Hermione, it went away. It faded to a background noise. She made things better, she made his crazy life mimic normal. And for Harry, anything that made him feel even an approximation of normal was a gift.
Hermione was watching him, obviously concerned about his inability to answer.
Harry frowned. He knew how he should feel, couldn t justify how he did feel, was confused that how he should feel was how he d felt only a few minutes ago but no longer did, so he settled on an honest shrug. I don t really know how I feel.
Hermione clearly didn t like his answer, probably because there wasn t much she could do to help if he didn t know, but she didn t press him. She gave an accepting nod and looked toward the fireplace.
Harry studied her profile as her eyes went out of focus and she got lost in her thoughts. He d seen her do it countless times, but he d never really watched the process flit across her face.
He was going to miss her this summer. Somehow, he knew he d miss her this time more than he had in the past. Aside from the sordid details of him and Hermione together that he could not let himself dissect for some faceless danger he could not name, what he remembered about that first night after Voldemort s return was feeling like he might not make it to morning with his sanity intact. He d honestly been afraid of breaking down. He d felt like he was stretched threadbare, and at times he d truly believed he d lose his mind. He didn t know what would be left of Harry Potter come dawn. And then he d come through the night and greeted the sunrise with a kind of security he d never had before, because Hermione had suddenly, blindingly, become this source of power to him. She stood like a windbreak to the gales of madness, a sheltering stone in a raging river of fear and pain, an immovable figure to block the horrors rushing him. In a single night she became his anchor.
With the summer holidays only a day away, he acknowledged that in so short a time he d clung to Hermione s strength. He began asking and needing half of what she d always tried to give him before but that he d never had the ability to claim. He took it now, he let her hover and defend and care for him, and he knew it wouldn t be easy for him to give up her attentions. He d dressed his wounds in her presence, and he wasn t sure he could stand to have those injuries torn open again in order to push Hermione back to where he used to keep her.
The day in the hospital wing when she and Ron had come to tell him about the Burrow, Harry had just suddenly realized that Hermione had become more important to him than Ron was. It had surprised him, because for so long Ron had been his best friend, the first one he d ever made, but looking at the two together it hit him that Hermione had displaced Ron. She meant more. He could lose Ron s friendship sooner and more easily than he could lose Hermione s.
That had left a strange, scared churning in his gut. Somehow it seemed like he was abandoning Ron, and he didn t want that to happen, but then Ron had started talking about wizard s chess and Quidditch and he d looked at Hermione and just accepted it. Since that night, in a way, he d felt a distance from Ron. He thought it might trace back to the beginning of the year when Ron hadn t spoken to him for months because he refused to believe that Harry hadn t put his name in the Goblet of Fire. Ron had accused him of lying, of deceiving his best friend, while Hermione had helped him through the tasks with steadfast devotion, being so very Hermione from the very start. Harry wondered if this now, this suddenly stronger bond to Hermione and weakening of his connection to Ron, was some backlash of that. Was he just choosing Hermione because she d never doubted him? Was he that petty and vengeful?
He thought that he might be.
Even still, he d never felt this kind of necessity concerning Ron. He d never needed Ron the way he knew, deep down, he needed Hermione now. And that was unnerving. Harry didn t know what he was supposed to do.
Harry?
Harry blinked and returned his attention to her. She was looking at him and the orange firelight painted an amber line along the contours of her face. In her eyes he could almost make himself think she needed him as much as he needed her.
But he knew he was dreaming, trying to put something there that wasn t. Hermione didn t need, couldn t need, not the way Harry did. Hermione was too strong for that.
What is it? Hermione queried. You looked troubled. She reached out and took his hand. Harry looked down at their hands, the way her fingers so easily and naturally slid between his. His stomach fluttered again, and it made him glad breakfast was hours away. The way she made touch seem so pleasant and desired had been a quandary for him since second year.
No one but you ever really touches me, he said before he could stop the words.
Hermione s eyes widened, as though accused of cheating on a test, and she gave a guilty, Oh, and moved to pull her hand out of his. She clearly took his comment as being chastised.
No, Harry said, a little too quickly and strongly, and he held her hand tightly to stop her from drawing away. She stopped tugging and looked warily at him. I I didn t mean that in a bad way. I just noticed.
Does it bother you? she asked in a small voice.
Harry frowned and shook his head. It bothers me when other people do. I guess I don t know how to be touched. The Dursleys Harry broke off and Hermione s fingers squeezed his in understanding. I learned to not like it.
But I like it when it s you. I ve never minded you touching me. And you know, I never well, I don t really like Ron touching me, either never have, and I know that s awful but it s true. Is that weird?
No. When you think about it, I mean, it really makes a lot of sense. Hermione s voice was pained on his behalf. She looked down nervously, bit her lip, then glanced carefully up at him through her lashes. But you don t mind me?
Harry shook his head again.
You remember in second year? he asked, and Hermione gave a half-nod as she waited for clarification on which part of second year they were discussing.
You re the first person I can remember ever hugging me. Harry met her eyes and did not waver. Something was dancing in her eyes, more than reflections from the firelight, and he knew it was important, even if he didn t know quite exactly how. I ve always remembered that.
Hermione s eyes glistened in sharp sympathy and undeniable affection. Oh, Harry, she croaked and pulled her hand out of his to throw her arms around his neck. Harry startled, his stomach lurched mightily, and a lump lodged in his throat. She pressed against him, her arms circled his neck and rested against his shoulders, her hair tickled his face. She smelled really good. Harry trembled. Hermione tightened her hold on him, and Harry snaked his arms around her body to hug her back. Unknown feelings surged like ocean waves in his bloodstream, and he didn t understand them and he was afraid and it made his heart pound, but he trusted Hermione to keep him safe. She wouldn t let him drown; he trusted her to save him. He didn t need to understand because Hermione would figure it out, she always did.
Maybe someday she d tell him why he felt so uncomfortable and awkward when other people touched him but why it felt so good when she hugged him.
Hermione pulled away but not completely. She kept her arms around him, let her interlocked fingers loop around Harry s neck, but drew back enough to rest her head on his shoulder. Harry didn t know if he was supposed to let go of her or not. He knew he didn t particularly want to. Uncertain but willing to take the chance, he kept his arms where they were, looped around her back with their weight drawing her faintly closer, and he waited expectantly for Hermione to tell him off. For a few seconds he didn t breathe in tense readiness to pull away at her scolding. But Hermione didn t tell him to back away or take his hands off her. To the contrary, she actually shifted closer until they were flush against each other, pressed quite tightly side to side, but it made her hold and his more comfortable. Only then did Harry let out the breath he d been holding and let himself relax. Hermione sighed too, resettled her head on his shoulder, and Harry swallowed thickly. She fit really nicely against his side, he thought. His stomach was in knots and his heartbeat was drumming madly, but he was happy. This made him feel good.
Hermione spoke softly, and he could hear a smile in her voice. You shouldn t have told me that, Harry. Harry stiffened in the first flickers of fear that completely overrode any confusion that might have come from hearing the tone of her voice mismatch with her actual words. But Hermione wasn t moving away or swatting at his arms. She stayed there, her head on his shoulder, and continued to let him hold her. She continued lowly, There have been so many times I ve wanted to hug you, because you looked like you needed it or because I did, and I stopped myself because I thought you wouldn t like me just hugging you like that. But now I don t know if I ll be able to stop anymore.
Harry found himself smiling and feeling slightly light-headed. Relief was almost palpable, and it was accompanied by one of those new, unidentified emotions that hit him in the stomach. Well, you can. I won t mind.
Hermione squeezed him tighter and Harry would have been hard-pressed to recall the nightmare that had woken him only moments ago.