229Chapter Seven-Diary Entries
"…Virginia Weasley!" Harry watched Ginny's mouth drop open in shock as a roar of applause and cheering swept through the room. Samantha Craigs burst into tears, while Natalie McDonald ran up to her dormitory, sobbing. Tucker Glims looked suddenly quite steely, and he walked off into a dark corner with Samantha, where the two promptly began to talk.
Harry grinned and clapped as well, and then went over to talk to Ginny. "Congrats, Gin," he told her in a whisper. Ginny turned as red as her hair.
"Th-thanks," she stammered, not able to look him in the eyes.
"Excellent!" George roared, slapping his sister on the back so hard that she began to wheeze to gain back the air that had been blasted out of her lungs. "Almost all of the Weasleys have been on the team, now! Ron, what's the matter with you?!"
"Er…the position I wanted wasn't open?" he asked rather than stated. Both Weasley twins shook their heads.
"Excuses, excuses," Fred tutted, waggling a finger at his youngest brother.
Lee Jordan came over, trailing a few of the sixth year girls, grinning from ear to ear. "So, now that you've made the quidditch team, what are you going to do?" he asked happily.
"Beat the stuffing out of Fred!" she said, startling all but Harry, Fred, and George.
"Better start running, chap!" Ron said soberly, clapping his brother on the shoulder.
"I'll just bribe the kid," he countered with a shrug.
Harry felt an arm snake around his waist and looked over to see Hermione. She had a sly grin on her face and led him into the back corner of the room near a large window. A few feet away from the window was an overstuffed armchair that looked too small for the both of them, but they squeezed in anyway.
"Audry mentioned that you had a bit of…er, excitement on the field before you even started tryouts," she said softly, her index finger tracing the length of his upper arm.
Harry caught the hand that belonged to the finger and held it in his own. "We were attacked," he said in a hushed voice, not wanting to alarm anyone. The blood drained from Hermione's face and she suddenly looked very concerned. Harry told her exactly what had happened, and attempted to recall what the person had said. Hermione looked skeptical when he finished, so he gave her a sheepish grin. "I know, I know," he whispered. He supposed his breath must have tickled her ear, because she shivered. "But there's one thing I don't get."
"What's that?" she asked.
Harry leaned in, almost closing what little space was left between them. "'Gemini speaks for the congregation'. Isn't Gemini a horoscope figure? A-a…oh, what are they called…?"
"You're the one in Divination still," Hermione whispered; her breath was warm against his face. For some reason, Harry had trouble concentrating after that.
"Gemini is the symbol for late May and early June. It's also the sign of twins."
"Harry," Hermione said suddenly. "Were Fred and George both out on the field at the—wait a minute. What's another word for 'congregation'?"
"Er…" Harry racked his brain for a few minutes. "A group?"
"And what's another word for 'team'?"
Harry caught the connection. "So you think that that thing was referring to Fred and George?"
"I don't know. Harry, what's the sign for July?"
"Cancer. Why?"
"What's your sign?"
"Oh. Leo, I guess." Harry caught the connection once more. "But—I'm sure I wasn't the only one with a late July or early August birthday!"
"Well, who else was there at the time?"
"Katie and Alicia. Oh, and Audry, of course." Harry frowned. "She seems to always be where there's trouble."
"I know another person like that as well," Hermione whispered huskily. She closed the gap between him and he felt her lips brush his cheek. "I'm going to bed now. All this foolish thinking is making my head spin," she said, getting to her feet.
"Thinking? Making Hermione Granger's head spin?!" Hermione threw him a look that was half anger, half humor, and maybe something more.
"Good night Harry."
"Sleep tight," he answered, getting up as well.
"Don't let the bed bugs bite!"
"If they do, grab a shoe and beat them till they're black and blue!" Audry said cheerfully, much too alert for eight-thirty on a Friday. Harry yawned widely and Audry pouted. "Oh. I see." She sniffed loudly. "Nobody likes Audry's jokes anymore. I'll be going now…" She trailed off and slumped over. Hermione snorted.
"Good night, you two," Harry said and headed towards the boys' dormitory.
Harry flopped onto his bed and stared at the material that was stretched across the top of his bed. He turned his head and reached to take off his glasses when he noticed the book that Sirius had given him for his birthday, almost two months before. Harry sat up and pulled it into his hands. Realizing that he had never even opened it, he pushed up the beautiful red cover and flicked back a few pages until he reached the very first page.
Harry-I had a hard time coming up with something for your birthday this year. I thought of all the things I could have given you, but for some reason a journal seemed like the best thing. Don't forget to use a locking charm on it, or your private thoughts will be there for the world to read!
SiriusAs soon as he finished reading the note, it began to fade slowly until there was nothing left. Harry looked at the blank page for a few more moments, and then shut it and lunged for his trunk. He rummaged around in it until he found the pen/quill that had come with it, and then crawled back to the journal. Flicking the curtains shut around him and placing the candle that he had lit to see into his trunk on his pillow, he began to write.
Friday, 23rd September 1996
It never even occurred to me to look at the first page of this journal until a few moments ago. Sirius wrote a note there—I guess it's okay to say his name in here—which anyone could have read, if they just opened the book to the first page!
Harry chewed thoughtfully on the top of the pen and wondered what to write next. Something sticking out from underneath the bottom of his pillow caught his eye, so he pulled it loose. It was the picture of his and his sister's first birthday. Lily Potter was holding him and making him wave. Cassandra squirmed in James's arms and tried to get to the ground.
Dumbledore (actually, Sirius) told me that I had a sister a few days ago. I didn't even realize it, even though I have pictures of my parents—and Cassandra as well, it seems. Hermione managed to pull the whole story out of me, and then some. She sure does have a way about doing that.
Would you believe that I've been so dim not to figure out the simplest of things? That I was different than anyone around me as a child; that I had a twin sister; that Hermione liked me. The latter only came out into the open about a week ago. At the ball. She seems different now, more outgoing, and yet more shy. Not even five minutes ago, we were sitting on the chair nearest to the portrait hole (the both of us, in that tiny thing!), just talking. I don't think I've ever had time alone with her before. Aside from last year—
Harry felt anger slide into his stomach at the memory.
—when Ron and I had that row.
I've just remembered: a few mornings ago I had a really strange dream. I was in this place—there's no way to explain it except weird; everything—and I mean everything—was like fire! And just before I woke up, there was this woman calling my name. The strange thing was that she looked just like Audry, except she didn't. I think it might have been her mother, except that she had brown eyes. Come to think of it, they looked a bit like Dad's do in all the color photographs I have of him.
Harry stifled a yawn by putting his hand over his mouth.
It's been a long week, and I should probably get some sleep now.
Oh, before I go: at tryouts this evening, Audry and I were attacked—well, sort of attacked. A man wearing a cloak jumped off the north tower—with no broom!—and grabbed us both. He said, "Gemini speaks for the congregation; Leo and Leona for truth. Angles grace the skies above on items made of wood. The lions will discover all, lest naught but lies remain. So quoth the fiery bird." Hermione and I discussed it, and she thinks it's a prophecy or something. She'll probably go check in the library tomorrow to see if there's a book on it. If there is, it would most likely be in the Restricted Section, anyway, so I don't know how she would get her hands on it.
Harry gently closed the book and after a thought, shoved it under his pillow. He could ask someone (most likely Hermione) for a locking charm tomorrow.
After blowing out his candle and placing it on his nightstand, and without even removing his glasses, Harry sank back onto his pillow and sank into a deep sleep.
Harry couldn't remember the last time he had slept as well as he had the night before. Even though he wasn't using a Dreamless Sleep potion, he had no dreams, and he still felt as though he were sleeping. But, the inevitable always comes to be, and ever so slowly he came back to conscience. He had the strangest feeling that he was being watched, so he carefully and slowly opened his left eye. A big brownish-black blur was hanging over his head. Being the cool, experienced teenager that he was, Harry grabbed the object by whatever was hanging over his head and yanked as hard as he could, rolling the opposite way at the same time. A scream of pain erupted from where he had been laying seconds before, so Harry grabbed his glasses to see who his assailant was. Audry sat up on his bed, clutching her ponytail with an irritated expression on her face.
"You didn't need to grab me, ya know," she said angrily, massaging her head. "A simple, 'What the hell?!' would have sufficed!"
"If you didn't bend over me like that, I wouldn't have grabbed you!"
"How was I supposed to know that you were still asleep?! It's almost ten!"
"How was I to know that you were bending over me?"
"Harry, what's going on?" Ron's voice croaked from the comfort of his own bed. Harry could hear shuffling as he sat up, and then parted the curtains with one hand while rubbing his eyes with the other. Harry grunted as Audry threw his pillow at him at it hit him in the head, knocking his glasses off so that they skittered out of sight. Audry leaped off the bed and landed on Harry and began to smack his head repetitively with his pillow.
"Audry…geof!" Harry yelled, trying to defend himself by bringing up his arm and grabbing the pillow. There was a great ripping sound, and feathers flew everywhere.
"Accio pillow!" Audry cried, pointing to Ron's pillow.
"Hey, that's mine!" he yelled, reaching for it to try and stop her. He missed, and the empty husk that had once been Harry's pillow soon lay forgotten on the floor as a full-fledged pillow war began.
Feathers were floating around everywhere when Harry heard the door open and someone gasp. "What is going o—aah!" Audry/Ron's pillow sailed over Harry's head and hit whoever was standing in the doorway square in the face. Harry and Ron turned around, pillows still in hand, and watched as Hermione pulled the pillow off of her head and looked around.
"Good morning," Harry said calmly, combing his right hand through his hair to dislodge a few feathers. Audry sneezed suddenly, and a cloud of feathers floated up around her. The corners of Hermione's lips twitched, and Harry swore that she was trembling with suppressed laughter. And then she sank to her knees, doing something that Harry had never expected her to do: she was howling with laughter. She pounded the floor with one of her fists as she laughed, tears of mirth splashing down her face.
"I didn't think it was that funny," Audry said with a shrug. She glanced down at her clothes, then at the feathers everywhere, and then to Hermione, who was still laughing.
Harry fished around under Ron's bed for his glasses. "We should get ready for the Hogsmede trip," he said. His had closed around his glasses, and he pulled them out.
When the room came in to focus, he could see why Hermione was laughing. There were feathers everywhere. Ron was busily pulling feathers out of his hair, but several had settled behind his ears. Audry wasn't even trying to dislodge the feathers; there were so many in her hair that she looked like someone had tried—and failed—to transfigure her into some kind of bird.
Hermione's laughter subsided, but she had a silly grin on her face. "You have no idea how funny you three look, do you?"
Harry glanced at Audry, and noted the evil grin that appeared on her face. He realized what she was thinking, and he grinned too.
With war cries loud enough to wake the dead—or at least the remaining sleepers in Gryffindor tower—they launched themselves at Hermione, arming themselves with pillows.
This battle was brief, but it ended with all four teens on the floor, laughing and covered in feathers.
"We look ridiculous," Harry and Audry said in unison. The group began to laugh harder.
"What's going on?" a voice asked from the open door. Harry looked up and saw Neville, followed by Ginny and Colin Creevey. Colin lifted his camera and snapped a photo.
"Colin!" Ron groaned.
"I want a copy of dat," Audry said with a lopsided grin.
"Same here," Harry agreed. He seemed to remember a picture of his father and his friends in the same predicament.
"The carriages leave for Hogsmede in fifteen minutes," Ginny said. She glanced at her brother and raised her eyebrows. "What have you been up to?"
"Having fun," Ron answered, shaking his head furiously and dislodging ten or so feathers. "You should try it some time."
Ginny shook her head slightly. "Hogsmede. Fifteen minutes."
"Good point," Ron said. Everyone out!"
"Oh, darn," Audry said mournfully. "I was hoping fer another glimps of ye in yer boxers!" Ron went as red as his hair when he didn't have feathers in it, while Harry laughed.
"Get out, please!" Ron repeated, trying to save himself from further embarrassment. After the door snapped shut, he said, "That girl will be the death of me!"
"Have anything else that you want to add to what you thought of her after you met her on the train?"
"Yeah," Ron said energetically, raking his fingers through his hair again. "Just when you think you know everything about her, she jumps out and surprises you!"
The trip to Hogsmede was relatively uneventful. Audry bade the trio good-bye in the Entrance Hall, saying the orphanage she was to stay in during the breaks didn't' trust her enough to go into town.
Hermione ran off in the direction of the new bookstore that had been established over the summer the moment she stepped out of the horseless carriages. With a slight laugh, Harry and Ron headed over to Zonko's to stock up on Dung Bombs and the like, and each bought a few of the joke shop's newest product that looked suspiciously familiar: Animal Creams.
After that, Harry walked over to the same store where he had bought Hermione's necklace. The old man greeted him with a smile.
"Was that little girlfriend of yours happy with the necklace?" he asked.
"Yes," Harry said. "She stays at Hogwarts over the holidays, except during the summer, so she doesn't get to see her parents often."
"Well, I'm glad that I was able to help you. Now, what can I get for you today?"
"Nothing in particular, I'm just browsing." The old man gave him another smile and nodded his head.
Harry glanced around the groaning shelves, picking up something of interest every now and again: a recording music box, complete with a dancing ballerina; assorted magical figurines, including a tiny niffler; and a magical radio, much like the one Mrs. Weasley had in her kitchen.
The bell on the door jangled as someone came in.
"Ah, welcome back!" the old man said. "Can I get you anything, Mr. Creevey?"
Harry slowly walked between two shelves to hide from whichever Creevey it was.
"I need a picture developed, sir." Harry knew it was Colin, since he had never seen Dennis walking around with a camera around his neck.
"I thought that you knew how to develop them."
"Yes, but I need it now, and I need a double print."
Why would he need it now? Harry thought. And a double print? It then occurred to him that it might be the picture that Colin had taken of Ron, Hermione, Audry, and him earlier that morning.
"Well, bring me your camera then, Mr. Creevey. I'll see what I can do," the old man said. Peering between a large book writing in an old (and probably forgotten) language and an unfolded map of Westminster, Harry watched Colin's camera exchange hands, and saw the old man tap the back of it with his wand.
"It was the last picture taken," Colin said helpfully.
Maybe not…? Harry thought, furrowing his brow. I wonder how many other pictures he's taken today.
There was a loud clicking sound, and then something—two somethings—shot out of the side of the camera. "Okay…ah, this boy was in here earlier!" The old man tapped a point on the picture. Harry winced, knowing that it was probably him. "I wonder where he went."
"I just wanted the pictures right now to look at something," Colin told him. The camera and the two pictures exchanged hands again, and Harry could see Colin peering closely at the picture. Harry was so confused he almost walked out of his hiding place and peered over Colin's shoulder. "…wrong shape…" Colin murmured. Harry supposed that he hadn't heard correctly and edged forward a bit more, almost to the point that he was standing on the bottom shelf of the bookcase.
"Pardon me?" the old man said, sounding confused.
"Never mind. It's nothing." Harry heard the sound of coins clinking together and then shuffling feet. The bell rang, and Harry emerged from his hiding spot behind the bookcase. "Harry!" Harry winced and turned sheepishly. "There you are, Harry!" Colin had spotted him. "I have your pictures, Harry! They turned out really good!"
"That's…er…" Harry stammered as Colin let the door shut and walked over to him. "That's nice."
Colin gave one of the pictures to him, and then looked at the other one. "Maybe I should just give you this one, too!" he squeaked. "You could give it to Audry!"
"Er…sure." The other photograph was soon in his hands and Colin was leaving through the door.
"Good-bye, Harry!"
Erg… Harry thought as he gave a very small wave. He turned his attention down to the photos and was surprised to see that they were in color. "These did turn out good," he said before he could stop himself.
"Is this 'Audry' your girlfriend?" the old man asked, a twinkle in his eye not unlike the one Dumbledore had most of the time.
Why does everyone keep asking that? Harry wondered idly as he shook his head. "No. Hermione is my girlfriend. That's here, there." He walked over to the counter and placed the picture on the glass, spinning around so that the old man could see it properly. He pointed to Hermione, who had leaned against the Harry in the picture. She was clutching her stomach and laughing very hard.
The old man smiled when he looked at the picture. "Destroying school property, I see. You know," the old man straightened suddenly. "You look a great deal like a young man who used to come in here thirty years or so ago. Do you know him?"
Even if Harry had been prepared for that comment, he believed that he still would have leapt back from the counter as if he'd been hit by lightning. "Er…" once he calmed down, he looked at the floor. "Yes," he said softly. "He was my dad."
Before the old man could say anything more, the bell over the door jingled merrily and Harry heard rain hitting the ground outside as someone cam in. "Harry! There you are. Hermione and I have been looking for you." Harry dimly heard a the person yell, "Oi! Hermione! In here!"
"Can I get anything for you?" the old man asked, not unkindly.
Harry looked up, and he created a mental barrier between the pain and sadness that had surfaced in his mind. The first thing that caught his eye was a wooden frame sitting on one of the top shelves behind the storekeeper. It was made of a dark wood that he didn't know the name of, and something was carved in what appeared to be elegant writing all around the outside. "Is that a picture frame?" he asked quietly, pointing up at it. The old man turned and gently took it from its place on the shelf.
"You have very good taste, Mr. Potter," he said. "This frame was made by magic, intended to be used for pictures of the family and friends that are closest to you. The closer they are, the clearer the picture becomes to life. The woman who sold this to me had a picture of her husband in it before he became a Death Eater." The sparkle disappeared from his eyes. "She said he used to practically leap from the frame every time she passed." He paused for a moment, getting the look a salesman gets in his eye from time to time. "Three Galleons and five Sickles."
"Three Galleons," Ron's voice said from the other side of the room. He came over to stand beside Harry and, to Harry's amusement, looked the old man straight in the eye with a steely glint Harry had never seen before.
"Three and three." The old man leaned forward.
"Two and seven."
"Three and three."
"Two." Harry tried to stop from laughing.
"Three."
"Sold! Give the man the money, Harry."
Harry looked at his friend in amazement and forked over three of the golden coins in his money pouch. "What was that?" he asked, taking the picture frame and placing it in the inner pocket of his robes.
"What was what?" Ron asked simply, raking a hand through his wet hair. It stood up at every-odd angle, and a few drops of water dripped off his nose to hit the floor.
"That."
"You mean, the bargaining?" Ron's ears went a bit pink. "I'm used to it. Mum taught us how to deal with shopkeepers that we think are overpricing us when we were old enough to shop on our own. She said it would save us money."
Harry shook his head in amazement. The door opened (That bell is starting to get annoying, Harry thought) and Hermione came in, holding the hood of her cloak down over her hair.
"There you are!" she said, smiling at him. Harry heard a low chuckle at the back of the room where the old man was standing. He chose to ignore it. "What do you say we go to the Three Broomsticks and get some Butterbeers?"
"I say, 'Good idea!'" Ron agreed, guiding his two friends by their upper arms to the door. Harry turned just before the door snapped shut that the old man had a sad smile on his face. He lifted a hand in farewell, and the door clanked shut, blocking Harry's view.
Not that Harry could see anything.
The rain was thunderous and fell in thick sheets, so his cloak did little but keep water off of the parts of his uniform that it was covering. The cold was the worst part of it all. Hermione's warm hand wormed its way into his own, and she gave him a small smile. Harry smiled back and bent his head against the wind.
By the time they reached the pub, Harry couldn't feel his glasses on his nose. He gladly entered the establishment and herded his friend towards the nearest table by a fireplace. They sat there, their teeth chattering, their lips blue, until Madam Rosemerta came by with their drinks. Harry laughed as Ron dove into his, swallowing half of it in the first gulp. Hermione seemed content to sit there, her feet propped up near the grate, the drink warming her hand.
"Colin had that picture developed," Harry sad finally, after his Butterbeer began to warm him up.
"Really?" Hermione said, looking up. Her lip and eyelids were still a bit blue, but the color was coming back into her cheeks, replacing the pale with a warm flush from the fire. She held out her hand. "Let's see!"
Harry dug into the inner pocket of his robes and pulled out the picture. Hermione glanced at it and a smile curved the corner of her lips.
"We look silly," she said, looking up again. As Ron stood up to get another Butterbeer, she caught Harry's eye and smiled again. Harry grabbed her left hand from its spot on the table and held it in his own, running one of his fingers across her knuckle. With his free hand, he took another sip of his drink. Harry picked up the picture again and scooted closer to Hermione so they could both watch what the figures in the picture were doing. Audry and Ron seemed to be having a contest out of who could poke the other the hardest in the shoulder, while Hermione and Harry were laughing, collapsed in a pile.
"This is what I like about wizard pictures," Harry said, pointing the four teens in the picture. "Even though it takes a picture in one way, every time you pick it up, it's in another."
Hermione nodded in agreement. "It was slightly creepy at first, but I got used to it," she said. "Every time I go home for the summer, I keep expecting all our portraits and photos that are hung up around the house to move, and they don't." She shivered and pulled her cloak tighter. "It's like I don't belong there any more."
"I can't relate," Harry said with a grim smile. "I never did belong with the Dursleys."
"Yes, but now you have Snuffles and Remus," Hermione reminded him. "And you have had Ron and his family since our first year."
Harry nodded and drank some more of his Butterbeer, and Ron returned finally with a new tankard.
"It's starting to get late," Hermione said, glancing at her watch. Harry leaned over her shoulder and saw that it was almost three o'clock.
"We should get ready to go back," he agreed.
Ron shrugged and drank his Butterbeer in three huge gulps, making Hermione laugh helplessly.
Unfortunately, by the time they reached Hogsmede Station, the point where they caught their rides back to Hogwarts, there was only one carriage left, and Harry felt that one carriage would be much too crowded for the fourth occupant: Draco Malfoy. He sneered when they approached, since they were all drenched and mud-stained and he appeared to be pristine.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he drawled, flicking his blond-white hair out of his face with a negligent twitch of his hand.
Ron swore loudly. "You always have to show up when you're not wanted, don't you?"
"Ron," Hermione started, holding up her hand to silence Malfoy's retort, "I don't know about you, but I'm cold, and wet, and I want to get back up to the castle. Let's just put aside our differences for now—until we get back go Hogwarts. I'm not asking for very much, Draco, Ron, so for heaven's sake, get in the carriage before I make you!"
Harry turned to Ron, who echoed hi, Harry's astonishment openly. "Get in there, with him?!"
Hermione turned on the teen furiously. "Just do it!" she shrieked, and before anyone could do anything else, she had pushed him into the carriage. When he was halfway in, she grabbed Harry's arm and hauled him in after her.
Had Harry not been cold and in the company of one of his most hated adversaries, he would have found the situation quite humorous. Ron and Malfoy had no choice but to sit next to each other, since Hermione and Harry had claimed the seat adjacent to Malfoy as soon as they had entered the carriage. Ron and Malfoy, therefore, sat as far away from each other as possible, and Harry squished into the far corner and tried to ignore the look of loathing that Malfoy was shooting him.
"You know," Hermione whispered to him as they passed the farthest point of the lake from Hogwarts, "you should really try to get along with him, Harry."
"Why?" Harry hissed back. "His father is a slave to the man—if you can even call him that—that killed my parents and sister. For all we know, Lucius Malfoy's idea of a Christmas present is being initiated as a Death Eater."
"Give him the benefit of the doubt, Harry. The only reason his is like this is because of who—and what—his parents are. God only knows what would have happened if he lived under the Weasley roof for his childhood." Harry grinned at the ridiculous vision of Malfoy standing among the Weasleys.
"Is the Mudblood whispering sweet-nothings into your ear, Potter?" Malfoy sneered.
Harry stood up and pulled out his wand. "Say that again and I'll hex you into a million pieces," he growled.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead. I'll make sure to be at the ceremony when they strip you of your Prefect badge."
"Well, I'm not a Prefect." Even though Ron's voice was quiet, it held a tone of threat and authority that Harry had never heard come from his best friend before. "So if I hex you, the worst they could do was give me detention for a month."
Malfoy's face and ears went pink, but he said nothing, and turned his gaze out the window at the Forbidden Forest. Hermione tugged on Harry's sleeve and he sat back down on the bench. "I don't think you would have been able to hit him anyway, Harry," she whispered. "The carriage is moving too much. And besides, I asked you two to at least try to be civil. Ron's trying." Harry glanced at Ron and saw that Hermione was, once again, correct. The youngest Weasley male was staring out the opposite window from Malfoy at the roiling lake.
"Ah, if only I had a camera," Harry whispered back, sighing wistfully. "What a picture this would make."
Harry sat in the library on one of the uncomfortable benches that were on either side of the table where he was sitting with his brow furrowed in concentration; the newest assignment that Professor Sirs had given them involved researching three dark wizards aside from Grindelward and "You Know Who", and Harry was having trouble finding a third. Hermione had managed to find six, but she wasn't sharing information, as usual, and told Harry quite plainly that he needed to look for himself instead of using her for a resource.
"You're not always going to have me to rely on," she told him over dinner. "If you become an Auror, or something like one, you'll need to be able to find your own information."
"But all you do is look for clues, question people, and use curses and hexes to apprehend Death Eaters and people of the like," Ron argued, spearing a chicken wing on his fork.
Hermione went into her you-haven't-read-all-the-books-I-have-so-how-would-you-know speech, and Ron replied with a typical Ron answer: talking through a mouth full of mashed potatoes. Harry knew that Hermione could give speeches until she was blue in the face and Ron would still insist that he knew more.
Harry turned the page of his encyclopedia of Famous Wizards and Their Accomplishments and found himself face to face with a very old picture of himself. His eyes widened as he noticed how very young and vulnerable he looked with his overlarge clothing, messy hair, and too-big glasses that had tape around the bridge. The only thing that made him rethink his previous thoughts was the look in his eyes. The emerald green that was so unusual held no spark of happiness, nor sadness, or even anger. No emotion showed in those eyes.
Am I the same now? he wondered. Does everything roll off of me like water on a duck?
"Harry?" a voice called. His head snapped around so fast that he heard a pop come from his neck. Hermione had appeared to have just come around the nearest bookshelf to him. In her arms were two books, one quite thick and one quite thin—A novel? Harry thought idly. He didn't recall ever seeing Hermione reading for fun in the common room.
To the right of her nose was a smudge of ink, which made her look several years older than she really was, and her hair had been pulled back from her face, causing her cheekbones to stand out more. Harry realized that even though she wasn't wearing an ounce of makeup, she still looked more beautiful than Audry, who he had never seen without at least eyeshadow and some sort of lipstick. Harry realized suddenly that Hermione's cheeks had pinkened; she was blushing.
"Come here," Harry said, pulling out the chair beside him and patting it. She did so and placed her books on the table, careful to keep the novel covered.
"Oh…" Hermione murmured, glancing down at the open encyclopedia. Harry quickly shut it and looked innocently up at her. "Well…"—she looked up as well and twisted a strand of her hair that had managed to become loose—"did you manage to find the last wizard?"
"No." Harry glanced back down at the book. Grinning, he looked up again. "But if you would just—"
"Forget it, Harry," Hermione said sternly, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I've already told you—"
"We need to learn how to look up things ourselves," Harry recited.
"So what I said wasn't falling on deaf ears."
"It never does," Harry told her. "You can't apparate on Hogwarts grounds, anything that runs on batteries can't be used; there's too much magic, etcetera, etcetera."
"Well. I definitely know what to get you for Christmas now," Hermione said. When Harry sputtered, she laughed. She leaned forward, so close to him that he could feel her warm breath on his cheek. On a random surge of bravery, Harry closed the distance and aimed to kiss her cheek. Hermione moved, and Harry found himself kissing her on the lips instead. Awkwardly, Harry pulled back and blushed.
"Sorry," he murmured.
"I-it's okay," she said. She had a strange awed note to her voice, and when Harry looked at her she was also blushing and tentatively touching her lips, as if they might fall off.
"Well…er…" Harry couldn't remember the last time he had felt as embarrassed as he was at the moment.
"Shut up, Harry," Hermione said, grinning slightly, and she leaned over and kissed him again. Harry scooted closer to her and put his arms around her, kissing her back. Hermione's lips moved under his and—
"What the hell is going on here?"
Harry and Hermione sprang apart from each other like startled rabbits. Harry looked guiltily up at the person who had caught them and paled. Ron Weasley, red with anger from the tips of his ears to where his neck disappeared into his shirt, glared back.