“Arthur, LOOK AT THIS!” Molly Weasley shrieked, holding a letter in her hand. “It’s from Ginny! And she says Harry’s been found!” Arthur Weasley paused in straightening his hat, and it took a second for what his wife just said to fully sink in.
“What? You sure?”
“Look! Here,” she said, briskly coming to his side. Arthur took the letter from her and read it very quickly, his expression darkening at the words he was reading.
“Merlin’s beard.. .this is horrible. I’ll tell the others before I head off to the office.” He gave his wife a hurried kiss on the cheek and disapparated, leaving Molly alone to her disturbing thoughts.
At that same moment, the twins were busy making preparations for the business week ahead. Maintaining a shop with the high amount of people traffic could sometimes be a dirty business.
“Fred, check it out.. more terror attacks in Italy,” George said, holding up Tuesday’s Daily Prophet. as he took a break from the scouring of the floors. For some reason, he got more satisfaction doing it the muggle way. Fred was lying down under the washroom sink, his top half disappearing underneath the cupboard; surrounded by tools all over the place.
“Stinking, muggle washer..” he grumbled, water leaking down all over his arms. “You would have thought that there was a spell to permanently fix a leaking faucet, we’ve been civilized what, some thousands of years? Be damned if I pay 3 galleons an hour for a plumber to fix this...”
George ignored his ranting and continued on. “Hear this: ‘Just days after the mysterious fire at the Rossilini farm, there has been an attack on an unknown wizard and his young female companion in the heart of Rome at the Belluci Floo Transit. One suspected Death Eater has been killed, several others wounded. No sign of the assailants, neither of the two young wizards who were attacked. Auror reports claim that witnesses saw the two ride in on a muggle vehicle, referred as a ‘motorcycle’. Investig- “
“OH SHIT!!” Fred bellowed. George Weasley looked up from the paper.
“Damn blasted plumbing, maybe Charlie knows a thing or two- let me see that, will ya?” he demanded, rubbing his forehead painfully. Grabbing the paper with his putty-stained hands he scanned it briefly. “It says a motorbike-Who do we know has the balls to ride into a Floo transit hub on a muggle ‘bike? This has got to be Harry-“
There was sudden popping noise and their father apparated in Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. “What up pop,” the twins said, neither one even remotely surprised by the impromptu visit.
“Boys, they’ve found Harry!” said Mr. Weasley.
“Serious? Where is he?” Fred asked, both of the twins now looking attentively at their father.
“He’s at Hogwarts, and from what Ginny says he’s in a real bad way. He’s up in the hospital wing since Friday and hasn’t woken since.”
“The bloody hell?! What happened?”
“I'm not sure, and you know I don’t appreciate you using that sort of language,” Arthur reminded his sons.
“If’ he wants us to fuck someone up real good and proper I’m good to go! You in?” George asked his brother, totally ignoring his father’s last comment.
“This shit has gone to far. Dad, were going to check on our favourite older brother at your office.”
“Now boys, we don’t want any trouble… “ Arthur warned them, only thinking the worst. He looked at them with a reserved expression, what did they want with Percy? “Why do you want to see him, if I may be so bold to ask?”
“Think Charlie would hold down the shop for a year for us?” Fred asked his brother.
“Hey, he’s taking a break for the while, and he always wanted to check out the business...he’ll do it!” George reinforced.
“What is this about? What do you mean by Charlie holding down the shop and meeting Percy?”
“Hey, we need someone in the ministry of education to pull some weight for us,” Fred winked mischievously at his brother.
“I don’t understand…” Arthur Weasley said, even more confused.
“We’ve got an education to finish.. and a buddy to look out for,” George explained with a grin. “C’mon, we’re wasting time.” Arthur smiled at his sons, he never felt such pride that they put their good friend in front of running their beloved shop. He nodded, and they all dissaparated.
For the remainder of that week Kenna never worked so hard and had so much fun at the same time. She was put in fourth year, and spent the rest of her free time with Cho and Draco catching up on the earlier years. Cho tutored her in first and second year Charms and transfiguration on Lunch hour that Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, while Draco taught her potions and rudimentary defense against the dark arts every afternoon. Draco took on his responsibilities very seriously, he was very protective and any boy who so much looked twice at his sister were lucky if they did not have to go to the hospital wing after he was finished with him. It became a dare amongst the guys at Hogwarts to try and get with Kenna, a test of mettle and bravery against one of the toughest guys at school. But it was worth it, any guy she smiled at was entranced, but the few brave enough to talk to her were automatically put on Draco’s personal hit list. She was enjoying the amount of attention and new things she was learning, but what she wanted the most was attention from Harry Potter, who still did not awake as the week drew to a close.
Hermione was having as rough a time as she had in her third year when she decided to use the time turner to take more subjects. Between SPEW, her head girl duties, homework, additional studies, and running up to the hospital wing any free time she got she was beyond tired, physically and emotionally. It had been a whole week, and still Harry did not awake. She was monitoring closely the X rays that self-updated as Harry’s treatment and own personal healing ability worked on his wounds, and from what she could see the only areas that were still not healed properly were his damaged knee and his dislocated shoulder. Even so, they were healing at a far superior rate than it would have taken an ordinary wizard or muggle. Gonzalez and Richardson were there everyday for a couple hours, while Remus and Pompfrey were regularly checking on him. Her father had come back twice during the week, but she did not see him as she was in class.
“See here?” Healer Richardson indicated on the x-ray that was on the bright display. “This is an amazing rate of recuperation,” he pointed his wand at Harry’s badly damaged ribs . “Usually, a direct hit from the Reductor curse is a full month of heavy treatment at St’ Mungo’s. He’s been hit directly and also broke three of his ribs here, here, and here, but it’s already healed fully. Simply amazing.”
“So why hasn’t he waken as yet?” Lupin asked him that Friday evening, evidently concerned about him still being comatose.
“I’m not sure. I guess these things take time. He’ll still need to watch out for that knee, but his arm should be fine in the next few days. Let’s pray that he wakes up soon.”
Ron and Hermione stayed for a little while that evening, until Ron said he had to leave for Quidditch practice. On his way out he saw Draco escorting Kenna to the end of the hall. Draco told something to Kenna, gave Ron a menacing glare and went back down the stairs, leaving Kenna to visit Harry alone. She walked towards Ron, her face stony as they approached each other.. Ron cheekily grinned at her, and puckered his lips.
“sSSsmoocCHh!” he exaggerated it a lot, the outrageous cat call incensing her even further. He watched her carefully for her response and noticed that her eyes were changing colour. ”What the?”
“How is Harry?”
“What’s it to you?” Ron countered. Never trust a Malfoy.
“What between me and between Harry is none of your busy ness,” she added haughtily. She brushed passed him, but Ron held her by her arm.
“What do you mean, ‘between you and Harry?’ ” Ron asked her, an incredulous expression on his face. She touched his hand, and Ron immediately let go of her.
She looked into his eyes, and said softly, “Harry is mine. Do you understand?”
Ron was finding it hard to deny that. She smiled at him, usually he did not fall for just a pretty face..but he found her argument quite persuasive. “Yeah. I guess you’re right,” he said, a bit confused.
“If anyone asks, you will tell them the same. Okay?” She ran her index finger on the line of his jaw, and Ron was caught, hook line and sinker. He concentrated, something was not right about this...he blinked once or twice, but those green eyes were doing something to him...
“No.. Harry already has a-” he began to contradict her. Kenna slowly pulled his head down to hers, her fingers threading through the red curls at his nape. Ron’s protests were cut off by a faint brush of her soft lips on his, and his mind went completely blank He was swamped by her, lost in complete bliss; the kiss overtaking all of his senses. He closed his eyes but before he knew it Kenna drew her mouth from his, slow enough that Ron felt his lips pull slightly from their contact.
Damn it all she’s sexy...
She watched him again through lowered lashes, and he could do nothing but stare at her parted lips.
“You were saying?” she breathed, and Ron searched his memory. Oh yeah, Kenna and Harry are together. Right.
“Harry loves you and you love him. Gotcha.” He said, his mind numb. Or maybe I love you and want you to be mine, a thought raced into his head.
“Very well. You may go.” She dismissed him, and Ron walked off, his steps a bit unsteady. He did not see the pretty girl who had hidden behind a stone gargoyle, an utterly astonished look on her face. Just when she thought that she found someone who could make her laugh instead of cry, Cho felt the now accustomed pain of heart ache. She could not believe that seeing Rossilini and Ron kiss would have such an effect on her, but it did. Ron was so unlike the other guys, he felt comfortable in his own skin and believe it or not, his unique personality and charisma kept the school smiling through these trying times of death amongst the staff and the attack on Harry and the Professor. She watched the blonde enter the ward Harry was in, and her suspicions were confirmed. She was gradually noticing it during the tutoring she was giving Kenna these past few days. There was something more behind that sweet angelic face and innocent smile. She was sharp, and ruthless, just like her brother. The difference was that Kenna was more manipulative than spiteful, and she appears to have a strange and powerful effect on the guys.
Thinking back to the ease and speed on which she picked up the intricacies of using magic, she realized why the Sorting Hat put her in her house. She was smart, too smart for her own good. She sighed, she won’t let this happen to her again. Ron was down to earth and made her smile more than anyone else ever did. She had to get to the bottom of this mystery.
Hours later another dark haired woman was trying to sort out her newfound feelings. Nymphadora lay in her bed, curled up on her side. She avoided the medical wing for most of this week, still too embarrassed to look at Remus directly in the face. When Dumbledore asked her to fill in for transfiguration teacher for the while she readily agreed, not knowing that the close proximity to Remus would have her feeling so uneasy. It was strange, before when she was at ease around him she threw down any and everything, she was horribly clumsy. But now whenever they were close she found herself involuntarily being extra careful around him, as if she had something to prove.
His confidence and reservoir of strength appealed to her, even though she knew that deep inside he was mourning. James, Sirius, Lily, Fletcher, Proudmore and to an extent, Snape, were gone, all of them schoolmates from way back when. Not many of his year were alive, excepting the Longbottoms, Maureen Chang, Michael Patil and his wife, and a precious few other names she could not remember. When Harry left and Remus went in search for him she volunteered to accompany him, knowing fully well that he might go mad if he broke his vow and lost of the last link to his best friends. When he did not know she was watching, she had noticed him sometimes just staring at nothing, idly fingering the medallion that hung from his neck. At those times she wanted nothing more than just to hold him close, and kiss away all his pain. That stunt she pulled in the bathroom, how could she have been so childish and stupid? She came to the conclusion that he in fact was able to see her, and she smacked her forehead, trying to knock in some sense in that dumb brain of hers.
Thinking back hard, she could remember seeing his eyes dart directly to her breasts and a faint smile appeared on his lips. Even though at the time it was highly embarrassing she was secretly glad that he was attracted enough not to stop her. The fact that he enjoyed her impromptu modeling gig made her smile. She would never had done it if she knew he could see her, but now that she did, she would love for them to be together again, naked as the day they were born. He had a glorious body, all steely muscle and –
She rolled over irritably, she was fantasizing about one of her best friends!! Chastising herself, she shut her eyes and forced herself to sleep. But her dreams did not listen to rational thinking, and the images she had that night did not care that it was ‘one of her best friends’. She slept soundly, and was not aware of what was happening directly above her.
It was after midnight, and the dark clouds outside was temporarily blocking out any moonlight that would have poured through the windows. Something was sticking him in his arm, and he reached up with the other hand to take it out. His arm felt funny, as if it were restrained by something. There was a soft gurgling noise of heated potions and electronic beeps nearby, his sense of hearing the first thing telling him he was still alive. His eyes felt painfully dry, and it hurt to open them. For a second he thought he was blind, but after nearly twenty seconds his pupils dilated and he saw the faint outlines of x-rays of a human torso spread across the wall. His head was ringing, but not in a bad way, it felt reassuring, he knew from the discomfort that he really was alive and this wasn’t a dream. There were pins and needles in his lower arms and in his legs, his sense of touch gradually magnifying itself, as if now awakening from a deep sleep. There were bandages strapped all over him, and the soft sheet rubbed against newly healed cuts and bruises. He sat up, and pulled out the magical needle from his arm.
Harry Potter was alive, and he felt like shit.
He sat there for around three minutes, wiggling his toes and clenching his fists. His back hurt as well, but he felt worse before. His right arm felt heavier than usual, but thankfully there wasn’t any pain. He freed his arm from the sling and removed the bandages on his wrist and around his ribs. There were some ugly marks and a few stitches on it, and he frowned in confusion. He looked at his arm for a moment and images of chains and hooded figures flashed in disturbing sequence of what had happened to him in Italy. He was defeated in mere seconds, the hunters had him bouncing around the place at their whim.
He closed his eyes in a silent prayer of thanks; he was damn lucky to be alive.
After another insightful moment of coming to terms with his mortality, he looked at his immediate surroundings. Where was he?
This place looks vaguely familiar.. wait, I do know this place. I’m in Hogwarts...
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and sat up straight, his eyes glowing a soft blue in the darkness.
Back amongst the living are we, Potter?
He felt his strange power surge back into him, and the niggling pains and aches eased away. His hair rustled softly in the still air, and his eyes began to burn behind the sockets. Closing them again, he mentally counted to five before he released a deep breath, trying his best to ignore that voice. He placed his bare feet on the cool ground, and stood up, tensing his lethargic muscles. He strode over to the huge window overlooking the Hogwarts lake, the fires from the castle reflecting on the rippling water. It was a beautiful view, and he wanted to also feel the essence of the only place he really considered home. He opened the large windows, and the cool night air swept against him, his long hair blowing away from his face.
Damn, it felt good to be back.
Hermione’s eyes flashed open, her cheek was buried deep into her pillow. She felt it. She threw the cover off of her, and ran out of the girls’ dormitory. Padma stirred, groggily opening her left eye.
“Granger?” she mumbled. There was no answer, so she fell back to sleep.
Hermione practically flew down the stairwell and through the portrait of the fat lady, her small bare feet made soft patting noises as she ran through the hall. Her nightgown danced merrily about the body as she rushed to the hospital wing. Her heart was racing, and she was trying to contain her exuberance. She felt his presence getting stronger by the second, and she could not seem to reach him fast enough. Bending the last corridor to the hospital wing, she ran even faster; her toes barely touching the ground, all the pain of the past few months now fading away in the back fo her mind. She reached the door to his room, but then paused for a fraction.
Harry was on the other side of this door.
It felt like a monumental occasion, and to her, nothing was more important than seeing him alive and well. She opened the door, and saw him, silhouetted in front of the open windows. He was facing away from her, his hands clasped behind his back. There was a sense of tranquility about him, his thick hair being played with by the mild wind. Her breath caught, it was really happening, this as not a dream. He was standing before her in the flesh, the soft wind gently caressing her face.
“Harry?” she called softly.
Harry turned his head at the sound of her voice, and he felt a sudden warmth rise inside of him. He was alive, and Hermione was here with him. He turned fully, the moonlight now softly illuminating her features. She was his angel: and she was more beautiful than ever. They stood still for only two heartbeats, but it felt as if it lasted forever. She smiled shakily, the sheer joy of seeing him again made her heart sing. Harry smiled in his boyish way, and she couldn’t believe that she still felt butterflies every time he did that.
“…Come ‘ere,” he said softly. She barely heard him, but the emotion in his voice spoke volumes beyond simple human hearing. She crossed the room and tenderly raised her fingertips to touch his face. It felt warm and alive to her touch, and his brilliantly green eyes looked deep into hers. He held her close to him, and Hermione thought that nothing ever felt so wonderful than having him back in her arms.
“I missed you,” he whispered, and brought his head down in a tender kiss. She closed her eyes and felt his lips caress hers softly, as if afraid that he would damage something so beautiful. She clutched the sides of his face, holding him close. She wore nothing but panties under her nightgown, and her body responded immediately against his bare torso, the exotic sensations sending goose bumps down her spine. His hands were around her waist, and he tilted his head to the side to get easier access to her lips. She cuddled closer against him, her hand running through the hair at the base of his neck. Needing to remind herself that this was not a dream, she grabbed a handful, bringing his head lower. Their kiss was passionate, and all the pain of nearly losing him faded away.
She rest her head against his shoulder, and whispered, “I love you. Don’t scare me like this again.”
Harry said nothing, but held her in a warm embrace.
Remus Lupin was silently dreading the coming day. He felt it coming, tomorrow night will be the full moon. He needed his Wolfsbane potion, and he knew that only a few potion masters could do it. The new Frenchman teacher, he barely knew anything of him, and did not trust him with creating something this important. The headmaster was still not feeling well, and he was bedridden for most of the week. He couldn’t bother him with this, he’s handled uncontrolled transformation before. But this time things were different. Right now his animal lust was barely controllable, he totally forgot to get his regular sedative potion made as all this week he was worried about Harry. And the fact that he could not get Tonks out of his head compounded matters.
She’s gorgeous, why did I not notice that? Maybe, in retrospect, because most of the time he could not decipher what was real and what was not. But now he knew every curve and line of her body, and she was on his mind all the time. He paced the halls by the seldom-used south tower, near to Trelawny’s divination lair. He couldn’t sleep, and his near instability was a hazard to everyone. He had to get out of here, and fast. But he needed to talk to Nymphadora, he felt compelled to at least tell her that he had to disappear for a few days.
He made his way through the deserted halls, his footsteps echoing silently on the stone floor. He made a beeline to her chambers and silently knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” the answer came almost immediately, and the voice was clear and wide awake. She had just woken up from that intense dream she was having and the sudden knock on her door made her jump.
“It’s Remus,” he answered. Tonks sighed: lo and behold, the source of her insomnia himself. There was a pause for a couple seconds, then she asked:
“What do you want?”
Hah. If she only knew she wouldn’t leave her door unlocked like this.
“I have to leave.”
The door suddenly swung open, and Tonks was standing in the doorway, an alarmed expression on her face. His gaze ran over her, and he silently cursed himself. Doesn’t this woman wear anything modest to bed? She was wearing a white vest and the smallest of shorts, and from the way it snuggly covered her hips he instinctively knew that it was one she had for many years. He felt very envious of the brief piece of clothing, his gaze resting squarely on it.
“A-hem. Did you come to tell me something important or simply ogle at me?” It was intended as a reprimand, but to him it sounded like a trick question. She realized her mistake, and mentally kicked herself. He slowly raked his gaze up her body, and looked her in the face.
She was caught like deer in a pair of headlights. Remus’ eyes were boring into her own, and she felt such a wave of pure animal magnetism emanate from him that she was monetarily speechless. She backed off a bit, and Remus followed her inside. There were five feet in between them, but Remus’ sheer presence dominated the whole room. He seemed much more bigger and powerful, even though his appearance had not changed.
“Remus-“ she breathed, feeling her own longing coming to the front. She never felt this sudden urge- this heat rising up in her- it was raw and primitive and it was because of him. He stood stock still , his eyes never leaving hers. She noticed his breathing was getting a bit laboured, and his eyes shone like a cat’s in the moonlight. Tonks could tell that he was trying to control himself from advancing on her, but inside she secretly hoped that he would just let go and have his way with her. He backed up a bit, and turned to leave, fighting himself and his base instinct. He was stepping out the door when she stopped him.
“Don’t go,” She said softly. He paused, and turned to look at her.
“You know what you’re saying,” he said gruffly. She watched him directly in his eyes and answered strongly:
“Yes.” He closed the distance between them, and shut the door behind him. Tonks stood where she was, her back straight and her stance proud, almost on the brink of defiance. There was fire in his eyes, and from her expression, Remus knew that she did not want this to be gentle lovemaking. She wanted the ferocity he kept bottled up, and would not settle for anything less.
He grabbed her and planted a passionate kiss on her. She ran her fingers through his hair, taking a firm grip in her clenched fist. God, this felt wonderful. All the frustration this week of secretly fantasizing about him for so long ended here. She needed this, she needed him, and would have it no other way. He grabbed her short tresses and roughly pulled back on them, exposing her throat and smooth skin of her breasts.. She grunted, and he looked at the soft neck and jugular vein that pulsed the life-giving blood. He sucked hard on her neck, his teeth making red marks on her sensitive skin. Her hands were all over him, and she struggled to get off his clothes.
He grabbed her small wrists in one his large hands, effectively stopping her frantic efforts. He backed her against the door, forcing her arms high above her head. Her chest heaved with her short breaths, and her expression excited yet defiant in her captivity. He held her trapped against the hard door with his body pressed against hers and her wrists locked in his firm grip. His gaze ran down her slender body and soft fullness, and she reveled in his hungry stare.
“What are you waiting for?” she ordered, her bold rudeness driving him crazy. With his free hand he grabbed the front of her vest and with a sharp yank ripped it off of her. She smiled wickedly at him, watching him fondle her roughly, squeezing and sucking until he could hold back no more. He bodily picked her up and unceremoniously threw her on the bed. Quickly disposing of his shirt and cloak he mounted the bed, spreading her legs apart. She came to him, and quickly unbuckled his belt. She pulled him free, and gripped him tightly in her small hands. He moaned appreciatively, and shoved her back down on the sheets. He yanked the short pants down her legs and was not surprised that she wore nothing underneath.
She watched him deeply in his eyes, and pulled him down to kiss him thoroughly. She bit on his bottom lip, catching the soft flesh between her teeth. He grinned as he felt the pain fuel his passion. Remus pulled away from her; propping up on his arms, his body tense and his blood pumping. She was more than ready for him; and wrapping her arms and legs around his lean, muscled body, she moaned in ecstasy when he plunged into her.
Harry and Hermione were directly upstairs, talking softly about what had happened while they were away form each other. He was sitting in the window seat, Hermione cuddled up on his lap. He was holding her close, idly rubbing her bare thigh. She playfully patted away his hand when he got a bit too adventurous, but the romantic setting and her strong affection for him also had her hands roaming on his bare shoulders. She was really trying to get Harry to open up about what had happened while they were apart, but he was reluctant to do anything but just stay quiet and touch her, just being with her was like having life breathed back into him. She finally gave up on trying to talk with him, and just sat there, watching his handsome face. She instinctively kissed him on his lips again, and drew back; smiling mischievously. She did it again, a little longer this time, then kissed deeper, her hands wrapping about his neck. Their tongues played against each other, their adolescent hormones surging like wildfire. Harry settled her tush more securely on his lap, and she wiggled to get closer to him. As they began to get very heated with the touching, they noticed a gradually increasing rhythmic thumping coming faintly through the floor. They paused, a bit curious to where the sound was coming from. It got louder and louder, and it was now clearly audible and obvious as to what was happening downstairs. Harry grinned, and Hermione flushed.|
“Who do you think it is?” Harry asked, smiling broadly.
“My guess is as god as yours...” She paused. “No wait, -Remus and Tonks are here.. She’s teaching transfiguration and as far as I can remember, her bedroom would be directly underneath us,” she said, looking absolutely hilarious working out the schematics in her head and pointing her finger at an invisible blueprint all business-like when there was some serious action going on below. Harry laughed at her, and she looked at him incredulously. “What?”
“The mere fact that you could actually talk about Tonks getting some from Remus so casually is just strange, but I’m glad for them. She’s hot,” he joked, and Hermione hit him playfully, smiling widely. They began to hear raw feminine moans of passion filtering up through the ground, coinciding with more forceful thumping noises. Harry was getting extremely aroused, and Hermione must have sensed the sudden change in him, and sort of panicked a bit.
‘Maybe we should leave, let them have some privacy,” she forced a laugh, and it sounded very fake even to her own ears. Harry did not pick up on it, and laughed as well.
“Yeah,” he answered, but truthfully he wanted to stay longer, they were alone, and the setting was right.
“Uhh- Hermione?’ he asked. She had already stood up, and her arms were reaching behind her head to fix her hair into the neat ponytail she had before she went to bed. That innocent motion brought her chest to protrude dominantly right in front of him. Harry saw through the soft fabric of her nightgown and he got distracted from what he wanted to say.
“Huh? What?” she asked, standing in front of him. Harry was a bit dumbfounded, he couldn’t believe how sexy Hermione was without even trying. A simple thing like fixing her hair was driving him nuts, and the noises coming from downstairs did not help matters.
“”Er- I was kinda-“
“OH YESSS ! !” Tonks moaned from below them, and Harry and Hermione looked at each other in astonishment, their mouths dropping.
“Go Remus!” Harry laughed, enjoying Hermione’s shocked expression immensely.
“Come on, lets get back to the dorms, you know tomorrow everyone is going to be riding on your butt asking you questions,” she told him wisely, and Harry frowned. He hated this sort of thing. His mood changed dramatically, and he silently nodded. Hermione could not have found a better way for him to dread the following day.
“Hope all my stuff is here,” he muttered darkly, reality coming back to him like a cold shower on a freezing day. Hermione happy expression crumpled, she knew she had said something to really kill his good spirits. She wanted to take it back, but Harry was already stalking off, making his way out of the room. He stuck out his hand Hermione jumped as the Sword of Gryffindor immediately jumped to his command. On his way out he picked up his wand and medallion, draping it on his shoulders.
“Harry..” she tried to placate him, really feeling bad.
“No, you’re right. I need to get some sleep,” Harry lied, he was sleeping for a long time now. It wasn’t her fault, but he couldn’t help the way he felt about his depressing life. He stalked off bareback and barefooted; Hermione had to hurry up to catch up with him.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said soothingly, taking his hand as she walked alongside him. He really did not feel like holding her hand right now, he wanted to be alone. But Hermione was his woman, and she was trying to help him. He let her hold his hand, and they both made their way back to the Gryffindor common room. He briefly told her good night, and left her there at the bottom of the stairs, her face crestfallen.
It was times like these Hermione wished she had just kept quiet and avoid all the grisly details. As she trudged up the stairs she promised herself she'll make it up to him in the morning.
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