Chapter Thirty Two
"Unbelievable," Ron muttered unhappily as he dropped to the floor next to Harry after they had both descended the ladder from Trelawney's classroom. Fellow Gryffindors were shuffling by with similarly displeased scowls on their faces.
On Fridays Harry and Ron had Divination first period while Hermione was off taking Arithmancy with Professor Vector. Harry tended to side with Ron in thinking Arithmancy was some vile manner of self-imposed torture, but on certain days Trelawney's rambling made him wonder if maybe Hermione wasn't the smarter of the three of them for dropping the course.
Harry smiled to himself when his own thoughts caught up to him. If it was a question of smarts, then Hermione was definitely running circles around the boys. Some things never changed.
Ron yawned crookedly and saw Harry's smile from his one opened eye. He snapped his jaw shut to frown at his friend. "Why the hell are you smiling?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead hiked the shoulder strap of his bag higher toward his neck and huffed, "Though we shouldn't be surprised in the least that daft old woman would pull something like this, you know?" The two of them side-stepped some bustling Ravenclaws as Harry subtly led Ron off to one side. Ron, meanwhile, continued to rant. "I mean, we're all nervous enough about Hogsmeade tomorrow as it is, what with You Know Who on the loose and all, but for her to spend the entire hour predicting ourgruesome deaths at the hands of Death Eaters then to fall apart and cry like that!"
Harry gave a one-shouldered shrug, "That's pretty much every Divination class for me."
Ron snorted. "She's the bat in the belfry, that one. How she ever became a teacher being a complete nut job I'll never get. Did you see Parvati's face when that hag started sobbing like a baby? I thought she was going to start crying, too! I'm telling you, mate, if this class turns into a reason for girls to cry and simper I'm dropping it next term. I'll take my chances in Arithmancy or Merlin forbid, Ancient Runes. Hey, Harry, where are we going? This isn't the way to History of Magic. Though if you're thinking of skiving, I'm all for it. Binns just might be enough to put the lot of us over the edge and hope Trelawney's right about us all kicking it tomorrow."
"Ron," Harry turned to his trailing comrade and the redhead stuttered to a stop in front of Harry. "Be quiet for a minute, I need to talk to you about something." He'd maneuvered them over against the wall, out of the way of most of the foot traffic.
Ron yawned again and scratched at the nape of his neck with a bandaged hand. He'd not opted to get up even a second earlier than necessary to go to the hospital wing to have the cat scratches tended. "A'right, what's up?"
Harry glanced around once to scan for any obvious eavesdroppers then said in a low voice, "Hermione and I were talking this morning, and we're thinking we'd all three of us go to Dumbledore and see if he'd see his way clear to teaching us how to do wandless magic."
Ron's eyes widened and his mouth popped open. "Wandless magic? Are you serious?"
Harry nodded. "Hermione figures it might prove useful if it ever comes down to another confrontation with Voldemort." Ron made a strangled sound which Harry ignored. Honestly, it was a stupid name. "And since Dumbledore's the only person we know who really has a handle on the whole wandless magic thing, it made sense to ask him if he'd be willing to teach us. You want to try learning it?"
"Are you kidding? Wandless magic? That's got to be just about the coolest use of magic there is. You're bloody right I'd want to learn it. Not even Charlie or Bill can do wandless magic, and they're seen as the better wizards of the Weasley clan." Ron glowered a moment as though he'd bitten into afoul lemon.
"Great, then. I'd planned on going to Dumbledore's office during lunch to ask him about it. You can come along if you like."
Ron nodded in agreement then lingered on the idea. "Wow, can you imagine—" Ron paused fractionally and his gaze shifted from Harry's eyes to a point an inch to Harry's right. Harry shifted his hearing and caught the sound of footfalls approaching from behind him. He half-turned his head to bring the approaching person into his field of vision from the corner of his eye, and just that was enough for him to recognize Hermione.
"Hi, guys," she said to them both as she came upon Harry. Harry turned, drew back his shoulder and opened his stance to her, and Hermione slid in and brushed her shoulder against him. Harry ducked his head for just a second to focus on her, to just barely catch the scent of her hair as it passed before his face, then he turned back to Ron to hear the rest of his sentence. Hermione came to a stop tucked back against Harry's side, her arms closed around a book, as she lifted her eyebrows in a 'what are we talking about' look.
Ron was looking between Harry and Hermione a bit stupidly. He pursed his lips and then slanted his mouth to one side in a queer expression. "You know," he said with a faint note of offense, "for people who aren't dating, you two have gotten really touchy lately."
Harry hadn't thought about it. Had they? He glanced down at Hermione and she looked just as taken aback by the remark. She blinked. Then she waved it off and rolled her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with a little casual physical contact between friends, Ron."
Ron's eyebrows jumped toward his hairline. "I think I have a different definition for 'casual' than you two must."
Harry opened his mouth to put Ron in his place because he should bloody well back off and leave them be, but Hermione beat him to it. She narrowed her eyes at Ron and lifted her chin challengingly. "Are we going to bicker about this?"
Ron blinked, looked a bit stunned by her curt manner, then he shook his head. "No, no, I just… Harry was just telling me about the wandless magic."
Hermione, mood at once changed, looked over her shoulder and up at Harry. "And?"
Harry nodded and for a fraction of a second let his gaze flitter from her eyes to her mouth and back again. "Ron's in."
Hermione quirked a fleeting, private and knowing smile at him, then she turned her attention back to Ron. "Brilliant, then. I really think it'll do us a world of benefit if even one of us can manage it." She looked down at her watch and stepped back a pace from Harry, turned toward him to similarly open her stance to him as he had to her before, and she grabbed his arm. "Look at the time! We better hurry on or we'll be late for History of Magic." She gave Harry's arm a tug, Harry gave a 'better com along' look, and the three of them started down the hall together.
Walking into Dumbledore's office in the middle of the day reminded Harry of Santa's workshop. Since his first visit to the headmaster's keep he'd thought so, if only in the back of his head. It was not so prominent an association that it would come up in conversation, maybe because Harry had only that snippet of memory from which to draw. It was perhaps his only pleasant Christmas memory with the Dursleys, and even that one he'd snatched without permission. One Christmas, when he was seven, he'd snuck out of the kitchen when he was meant to be cooking the supper feast and peeked in on Dudley watching a Christmas movie in the living room. He only watched a few seconds before he was caught by Aunt Petunia and herded back to the stove (where he suffered a sound whack on the head with a wooden spoon), but those handful of seconds were enough for him to see what was on the telly. There had been elves, workbenches, toys, and everywhere smiles and tinkling objects and glittering gold, red, and green. During the day, Harry thought that Dumbledore's office was a lot like that. The portraits on the walls of animated past headmasters of Hogwarts were the Christmas elves filling the place with talk and movement and life, and everywhere Dumbledore kept various magical objects, some Harry could not begin to name, many that moved with indefatigable energy of their own, that tinkled and glittered and sparkled near as gaily as the workshop.
There was even a white-bearded old man to oversee it all.
When they'd pushed open the door, Dumbledore was standing in the middle of the room, making coiling motions in the air with his wand. As he did so, his beard spiraled upward in the air like a sculpted shrub, obscuring most of his face in the process. He stopped when he saw the three of them enter his office (he had to peer around his erect curly-q beard to properly look at them).
"Harry, Miss Granger, Mister Weasley. What an unexpected visit. Do come in," as the three students filed into his office Dumbledore gave a last flick of his wand and his beard uncoiled in a flash and seemed to tug itself in all directions, as though attempting to free itself from his face, before lying naturally against his chest. "Caught me in a bit of beard twirling."
Harry had no idea what purpose that might serve, but then it seemed he was still learning the world of magic one baffling step at a time. It wasn't entirely surprising it would be a mystery to him.
"Beard twirling?" Ron queried. Harry was piqued to wonder a bit more about Dumbledore's recent activity. Must be something truly peculiar if Ron, from a wizard family, hadn't heard of it.
"Yes, I find it keeps my beard looking plucky. Now… what brings you three to my office when there is such a titillating aroma coming from the Great Hall? You haven't been sent here for some misbehavior, have you?"
Harry, standing in the middle between Ron and Hermione, was in a fit position to see Hermione straightened with purposeful intent and hear Ron make a faint, piteous noise at the mention of their missed meal. Harry turned his head fractionally toward Hermione to confer with her one last time. She never took her eyes from Dumbledore, but with a faint nod she urged him forward to broach their reason for coming.
Harry looked back at the headmaster. "Sir… we have something to ask of you."
"Do you now? Hmm… interesting." Dumbledore walked around to stand behind his desk and looked at each of them in turn before taking a seat in his large, comfortable chair. "Well, then, what is this thing you wish to ask of me?"
"We hoped you might consent to teaching us wandless magic," Harry said.
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose as he looked intently at Harry. "I see." His eyes cut over to Hermione on Harry's left. And they stayed there. Harry shouldn't have expected less. Of course Dumbledore would know in a second who thought up the idea.
Hermione took up the silent challenge without hesitation. "Headmaster… I feel the possibility of being able to perform wandless magic could be invaluable to Harry. And Ron and I, too, as we fully intend to stand with Harry should the worst happen."
Harry could hear Ron to his right hold his breath, but he didn't object or contradict Hermione.
Dumbledore nodded gravely.
"You're the only wizard we know who has really mastered wandless magic," Hermione pressed. "Who better than you to teach us?"
"Who indeed," Dumbledore mused aloud, then leaned slightly forward to study Harry with a sharp eye. Harry stood straighter without really knowing why.
Dumbledore finally spoke. "I can't fault your reasoning on this matter, Miss Granger. Seems I rarely can, come to think on it. I can attest only too well how handy it is to be able to perform magic without the use of a wand, and I don't just mean to summon a towel whilst in the shower." The headmaster directed his next comment at Harry. "And it is well that you should understand that the threat of Voldemort is all too real, even here at the school. The staff here at Hogwarts is doing all in our power to protect the students, but with a dark wizard like Voldemort there can be no certainty that danger will not find its way into our dearest retreats."
Harry gave a ghost of a nod. He had no misconceptions about that.
Dumbledore gave a faint nod back, so slight Harry wondered if perhaps he'd imagined it, then he said, "But to do wandless magic is a demanding challenge, and not one that is ever guaranteed regardless of conviction. I trust you are well aware of that, Miss Granger?"
"Yes, and I told Harry and Ron it might not work no matter how hard we practice. But still, we'd like to try."
"And try you shall." Dumbledore stood and rounded the desk to stand directly before his students. He leveled his gaze on Harry. "I'll teach you what I can about wandless magic." He glanced to either side of Harry to take in Ron and Hermione. "Only do not be disappointed if your efforts never bear fruit. Wandless magic is a finicky talent, terribly hard to manage, and some very powerful witches and wizards are vexed by that ability alone."
"We won't be discouraged," Harry promised.
"Very well, then. In that case, let us begin out lessons Sunday afternoon, after the Hogsmeade outing tomorrow."
It would serve in Harry's opinion, but he was stilled in his own thinking whenhe caught Hermione pause in the corner of his eye. She chewed on her bottom lip in thought then ventured, "Headmaster? Considering how important this could be, wouldn't it make more sense to skip Hogsmeade in order to start lessons right away?"
Ron made a croaking noise in the back of his throat at Hermione forfeiting all their Hogsmeade trips without asking, but wisely he did not openly protest or argue against her. Harry had been looking forward to Hogsmeade just like Ron, but in the grander scheme Hermione's proposal made far more sense.
Which did not surprise him in the least. If he had to give up a day trip to Hogsmeade to potentially learn a new way to fight against Voldemort, and possibly aid his survival… Honeydukes could most certainly wait.
Harry blinked in surprise when Dumbledore actually looked… caught out. The elder wizard perched on the edge of his desk and looked long and hard at Harry. Then he sighed. "Harry… I have something to confess to you. No doubt you will be angry, but I would hope you can understand why I did it and refrain from getting too upset. Even more, I hope you can forgive me."
Harry tensed. This did not sound good at all. Hermione shifted a bare inch to stand nearer to him. "What do you mean, sir?" he asked warily.
The Headmaster looked genuinely aggrieved to say what he was about to, but it did not stop him. "Our combined efforts with the Ministry of Magic to locate the whereabouts of Voldemort have so far been without results. We are utilizing all the resources we can imagine, some even the ministry doesn't know about, but as yet they have all been to no avail. We simply cannot find him.
"Did you ask yourself, Harry, why I would permit an excursion to Hogsmeade when the current times are so dangerous?"
Harry felt his gut being clenched in a cold fist. "Hermione asked it."
Dumbledore glanced once at Hermione and gave her an acknowledging nod. "I never expected an incongruence such as that to pass by Miss Granger unnoticed."
"Why did you?" Hermione asked in a low voice. Her tone told Harry she'd already sussed out Dumbledore's reasons. And she was none too happy about them, either. Harry suspected he knew full well, too, but he wanted Dumbledore to tell him. He'd have it from the source. He almost had to hear it from Dumbledore to truly believe it of him.
The headmaster looked glum. "We know that Voldmort still has designs onHarry. For whatever his own cruel purposes, he wants to get his hands on Harry.
"We had hoped that Harry leaving the safety of the school grounds might tempt Voldemort to make a move where we are in a position to strike him."
Harry stared, unflinchingly, at Dumbledore.
Hermione next to him was not so stoic. She growled, "You're using him as
bait!" The disgust and revulsion was thick in her voice. "Yes, I am afraid so."
Harry could sense Hermione fuming. He could imagine how her body tensed at the same time he listened to her breathing change and felt her presence harden. He stole a half-glance at Ron and his companion was pale. It made his red hair stand out starkly. Harry turned his eyes to the headmaster and found Dumbledore watching him with singular intensity.
Harry scowled faintly. "If you didn't tell me before, you obviously knew I wouldn't like this one bit."
"I didn't pretend to think you'd be okay with this plan. Nor would you be alone. Professor McGonagall was actually quite staunchly opposed to this whole idea, if it makes it any easier to accept. It was far from a unanimous decision even among Hogwarts's teachers. We are all trying to look out for you, Harry."
Harry had a fleeting thought of Snape. "Right."
Hermione asked sharply, "How is dangling Harry in front of You Know Who's nose looking out for him? Isn't that precisely how Harry ended up in the graveyard last year?"
"Hermione," Ron gave a shocked whisper that she would speak to the headmaster of Hogwarts in such a way, even if the situation pretty well warranted it. Buggered or not, there were still some things a proper student didn't do, and Hermione was the quintessential proper student.
Hermione didn't apologize. Harry was glad she didn't. He'd like an answer to that question. He watched Dumbledore steadily to take in every nuance that surrounded his reaction.
Ultimately, Dumbledore was not an easy read.
"The longer Voldemort is on the loose, the more time he has to bring together his old followers.
"When we were unable to apprehend him over the summer we began to fear our chances would dwindle with each day that he was free. At the beginning we could hope some of the old Death Eaters who'd gone to ground after Voldemort's fall fourteen years ago would believe his return a rumor and stay put to save their own skins. But now there has been time for rumors to become facts, and old allies and enemies to find their way back to old allegiances.
"If Voldemort has time to reassemble even half of his old band of Death Eaters then our world, and possibly the world of muggles, will be gripped once more in a war the likes of which many had ardently hoped to never see again." Dumbledore stepped closer to Harry. "This is a bold move on our part."
"Bold or desperate?" Harry asked bluntly.
Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. He did not reprimand Harry for his insolent tone. "Sadly, the two are often hard to tell apart. Know that I consented to this with a heavy heart and every belief that it can only serve to help protect you.
"Nearly half of the teachers in Hogwarts will be going to Hogsmeade tomorrow with the students. They'll be near at hand wherever you go, provided you stay within the village proper." Dumbledore looked squarely at Harry on the last, indicating it was also a command.
Harry bristled. "I'll not have an escort."
For a moment, Dumbledore's eyes flickered. As though Harry had finally managed to catch him off guard with his reaction. Then the headmaster's expression hardened. "Harry… this is for your safety."
"Forgive me if I don't fancy being your staked goat." He'd had his share of being bound and bled like a sacrificial lamb at the end of last term.
Dumbledore blinked at Harry. He glanced once at Hermione and was clearly met with matching rancor. When he turned his attention back to Harry he was no longer the sweet, grandfatherly figure they knew well. The one who always had a smile in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. He was the immensely powerful headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry who was not one to suffer petulant children. "I know you're upset, and you have right to be, but the strong faculty presence at Hogsmeadetomorrow is not optional. You are not the only student we must keep safe, Mister Potter."
At that, Harry's ire fizzled a bit. Of course. This wasn't a one-man war. It was easy for Harry to get wrapped up in his own conflicts with the dark wizard to such an extent that it began to seem like it was a battle between the two of them, him and the dark wizard. Voldemort wasn't interested in Harry and Harry alone. Harry was far from the only student to have lost loved ones to Voldemort's last reign of terror. A lot of people stood to die if things went badly for them now.
Harry dropped his eyes to the floor. Hermione shifted ever-so-faintly closer to him. He could feel her body heat like a soft blanket along his arm. She'd accepted the same truth as he, Harry knew. He knew Hermione well enough to be sure of that.
Dumbledore gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze and a touch of the gentleness was back in his voice. "Go to Hogsmeade tomorrow with your friends, do your best to have a good time, but stay in the village where the other professors can keep an eye on you. Remember why we're doing this, Harry. When you get back, we'll start you on learning wandless magic, though let us hope by then it will be for purely academic pursuits."
Harry nodded.
"Now, I should think the three of you could do with a bit of feeding. Off to lunch with you. I believe we're done here." It wasn't an invitation to address further questions.
The three students dutifully turned. Hermione immediately sidled up tight against Harry's side and slipped her hand in his. Her fingers squeezed tightly, communicating her shared indignation and anger at Dumbledore's revelation.
"Blimey, Harry!" Ron said in a strained voice as they traversed the empty corridors.
"What?" Harry asked in a peevish, irritated voice. Hermione tugged at his fingers with her hand, still clasped in his. Only then did Harry realize he'd come off a bit brusque with Ron when he'd done nothing.
For his part, Ron seemed to not have noticed the subtle tone in Harry's voice. "I can't believe you mouthed off to Dumbledore like that!" Ron squawked.
Harry huffed and scowled at the fresh memory.
"It was wrong of Dumbledore to do it, Ron… to use Harry like that," Hermione said emphatically. Harry was too hung up on Dumbledore's confession to appreciate Hermione's passionate displeasure on his behalf.
"Well, I know, but still…"
"And it's not even that I wouldn't have gone along with it, had he just told me before now," Harry tossed in acidly.
Ron gulped. Hermione was almost cutting off the circulation in his fingers.
"Completely mental," Ron muttered under his breath, complexion ashen and his expression drawn, but he fell silent. Harry wasn't sure who exactly was the one dubbed 'completely mental', but truth be told he didn't particularly care.
Hermione slipped her other hand around his elbow and tucked in closer to his side, to such an extent that they had to match strides or the uneven steps would have been jarring. Harry gave her hand a squeeze to let her know he realized she was there and trying to support him.
He then glanced over at Ron.
It was a fair bet to say Ron no longer laid blame on Trelawney for shooting their Hogsmeade weekend full of holes.
Chapter Thirty Three
"Can I get you anything, dears?"
Hermione was sitting closest to the barmaid, so she spoke for them with a wooden smile plastered on her face. "No thank you, we're fine."
Madam Rosmerta gave Hermione a nod and did a poor job of concealing her glance toward Hermione's dark-haired friend. "Well, you just let me know if you do." The owner of the Three Broomsticks, bar and eatery in Hogsmeade, left their booth to tend to other patrons.
After fielding the unwanted intrusion, Hermione turned her attention back to her weekend companions. She, Harry, and Ron were sharing a table together at the popular student hang-out spot. Harry and Ron each had a half-drained tankard of butterbeer in front of them, but for once it didn't seem to be appreciably improving their moods. Harry was sharing a bench with Hermione, Ron sitting opposite them. The redhead looked particularly choked with resentment that the weekend was crashing and burning so gloriously. It made him look a bit constipated.
Harry was not much better. He'd been sullen since leaving the castle with the packed group of Hogwarts students. They hit the main street of Hogsmeade and students tentatively broke off and fanned out, the teachers took up positions without making it painfully obvious that was their aim, and the three friends had wandered off in a collective funk.
But it wasn't so contained to the three of them, Hermione had noticed. Everywhere she looked her fellow classmates were jumpy. There weren't enough smiles, or at least not any sincere ones. They were laughing, but for the most part it was poorly faked. And their eyes told the truth of it. They were nervous. They were watching their backs and glancing over their shoulders, fretful and fearful of hidden dangers.
Almost better there'd not been a Hogsmeade weekend than this sham of an outing. Though she imagined every jittery student to a person would insist that everything was dandy and they were having a good time. Denial was strange and prickly that way.
It wasn't so for her, Harry, and Ron, though.
Hermione looked toward Harry. It made her frown and her heart ache. He was slouched on the bench, the nail of one finger idly picking at the dinged and scratched butterbeer mug. His expression was stony and unhappy.
Hermione pressed her lips tightly together. She hated this farce, but what could they do? Dumbledore had his reasons, and she knew they were good ones, even if he had gone about it all wrong where it came to Harry's involvement. She'd just have to level her blame against Voldemort.
That was a safe and good place to hate to her heart's bitter content.
She decided she was thirsty. When they'd first come in she'd not liked the idea of the taste of butterbeer (it was a cheerful drink, and she was far from being in a cheerful mood), but as they'd sat sulking in their booth for nearly an hour she was becoming all too aware of the long walk to Hogsmeade from Hogwarts.
Hermione moved to leave the booth and Harry spoke for the first time in several minutes. "Where you going?"
"To get a drink; I'm thirsty."
Harry slid his half-full glass over toward her in offering.
Hermione paused, glanced at him, then settled back beside him and took his mug. She sipped the sweet beverage and lingered on the observation that Harry's taste seemed to have been added to the butterbeer. Not unpleasant at all.
Harry, deprived of his glass to occupy his hands, stretched his arms out along the back of the bench. Hermione couldn't resist the opening and slid over closer, nestling under his arm and against his side. She took another sip ofbutterbeer, for a moment feeling as snug as she might have curled up in front of the hearth in the common room with a cup of hot cider to coax her to sleep.
Ron glanced up at them, looked just slightly sick, and took a big gulp of his own butterbeer as though taking out a personal vendetta against the world. "This stinks," he said when he'd placed his mug back on the table.
"Well and wholly," Harry returned and glanced around the Three Broomsticks at other Hogwarts students. Hermione's face was starting to ache from all the frowning she'd been doing. It was just so buggered up. This was supposed to a fun get-away from the homework and tests and lessons.
She'd trade about anything to just see Harry crack a smile.
"Maybe we should get out of here," Ron suggested.
"Where did you want to go?" Harry inquired and with an open hand asked Hermione for the butterbeer. She handed it over and he took a drink.
"Anywhere… what about Zonko's? Could do with a good laugh."
Hermione felt a strange smile jerk at her mouth. How very typical that Ron would think a joke shop could fix something this heinously broken. But it was part of Ron's simple appeal. He could believe in things as easy as that. She wished she could at times.
Harry passed Hermione back the butterbeer stein."Might as well.
"Hermione wanted to go to the bookstore while we were here. Care to just meet us at Zonko's when she's finished?"
Ron nodded. He wasn't about to say a word to that, lest he somehow snare himself into going along to the bookstore.
"Let's go, Hermione," Harry gave a gentle nudge at her side and she unfolded her legs and shuffled out of the booth. Harry followed. She took one last swallow of butterbeer, gave the mug to Harry so he could do the same, and with that he placed the cup on the table and trailed after her as she left the bar/restaurant.
The streets were alive with students putting on the act. Hermione almost preferred the gloom of their booth in the Three Broomsticks. At least there were no falsehoods to bear.
A few students caught sight of Harry, glanced at him… and hurriedly lookedaway, expressions instantaneously dour. They all but scurried from him. Hermione fumed to herself, toward them. As if Harry was the problem.
"Mione?" Harry said softly close to her ear.
Hermione turned from her flaring disgust at her classmates to look over her shoulder at Harry.
"Yes?"
He met her eyes and she was suddenly alert. He had a light in his eyes, flickering behind the blue, that she'd come to know well. She could read what could almost be defined as mischief and liveliness in his gaze. "I have an idea…"
"Lead on, then," she whispered, already intrigued.
"The bookstore will keep."
Harry nodded, for a split second she thought he might smile, then he took her hand and led her down the main road… in the opposite direction of the bookstore. Hermione hurried after him.
They wove and threaded between groups, pairs, and solo students in the street. It was made easier as a good deal of them tended to clear a path when they saw Harry coming. Harry didn't seem to care or pay them any heed. Hermione was glad for that much.
Periodically, Hermione caught sight of a teacher standing guard. Watching. It made her angry every time, and it was better if she just concentrated on Harry. He had something in mind, that was very clear. She couldn't imagine what, but the mystery of it was enough to displace some of her disquiet surrounding the entire Hogsmeade weekend just speculating where they might be going.
Hermione was still pondering their destination when, unexpectedly, Harry pulled her aside and they ducked into a narrow alley between two buildings. The distance between the two buildings was so sparse that there was barely room for them to squeeze in together. Harry put his back to one wall and drew Hermione in to stand opposite him, her back to the other building.
They were only inches apart. Hermione's heart beat a little faster and it was warmer for their close proximity. She looked up into Harry's near face and a knot formed in her stomach. He was up to something, it was glittering bright in his eyes.
"Harry," she breathed in a whisper, "what—"
"Shh…" Harry turned his head to the side to listen. One of his hands came to rest on her waist and Hermione's whole body shivered.
Harry's perception shifted, his intensity of focus went beyond human. Hermione knew he was tapping into the jaguar. How she envied him that incredible gift. She tried so hard, but she was beginning to believe it was a talent inherent to Harry alone. But even in the face of jealousy, she could acknowledge how incredible it was just to watch Harry do it.
Harry cocked his head in a slightly different direction, his eyes were unfocused as he attended primarily to sound, and Hermione indulged in watching. When Harry 'touched the jaguar' as he called it, his presence changed. He might not shift from man to beast, but something in the sense of him did. He was suddenly just raw. It was a feeling like she was standing with greatness, unmatched ability, the unwavering feral honesty of the jungle predator.
She relaxed her rigid stance against the brick wall and it meant she was that much closer to touching Harry's body pinned so short a distance from hers.
Harry turned from his listening to focus once more on her. Hermione clamped her jaw tightly shut when something damnably akin to a whimper tried to fight its way up her throat. Harry had the look of the cat in his eyes.
"Let's go for a romp," Harry said in a low, silky voice. Merlin, that too still had traces of the jaguar.
"Huh?" she blinked and blushed when she realized she'd been watching his lips.
Harry leaned in just barely closer."I won't bumble about like some half-wit to be their target in the hopes Voldemort's going to make a mistake. I want to have a bit of fun, Hermione… let's change."
Hermione's eyes opened wide and she looked into his eyes. "Are you serious?"
Harry gave a crooked, confident smile. "Yeah, I am. We're near to the woods," he ticked his head down the far end of the alley, which did indeed lead toward the woods that were thick around both Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. "We can give everyone the slip, that's not a problem."
No, she didn't expect it would be. The professors might have more advanced magic on their side, but Harry could hear with the ears of a hunter, see with the eyes of a keen predator. She'd put her faith in that above the teachers any day.
But sneak off when they were supposed to stay in the village?
Stay to be bait, proffered meat, enticing tidbits to tempt a dark wizard… Hermione began to smile back at him. "Okay."
Harry grinned and then his hand was gone from her waist as he silently padded off toward the end of the alley, away from the main thoroughfare of Hogsmeade. Hermione glanced back once then followed him.
At the end of the two buildings that served as their hide-away Harry stopped and again the turning of his head, the razor-sharp concentration, the difference between Harry the wizard and Harry the animagus as he listened for signs of anyone nearby. Hermione crouched behind him and waited for his cue.
Satisfied they would slip away undetected, Harry reached back blindly for her hand and when she gave it to him he moved forward.
Together, as witch and wizard, they made a dash for the trees. They could have run faster without their hands locked together, but Hermione trusted Harry's assessment that for the moment detection wasn't a concern. The trees weren't far, and this felt far too good.
They broke apart to better navigate the trees when they reached the forest. Harry took the lead, dropped to the ground, and in a matter of seconds Hermione was running gleefully behind a sleek black jaguar.
Hermione couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up.
Harry looked over his shoulder at her and Hermione tumbled purposefully into a patch of fallen leaves. She rolled, twisted, and righted herself only to have dead foliage stuck in her mane.
Harry walked toward her, panting mouth almost mimicking a human smile, and Hermione shook her head to try and knock loose some of the debris.
She stretched her forelegs before her and twitched her tail.
Harry approached her, circled her to come at her from the side, and Hermione lowered her head close to the ground and watched him intently.
Harry pounced. With a leap and twist he was standing over her, legs braced on either side of her, and Hermione lifted her head to try and crane her neck to see Harry as he hovered above her. Harry gently butted her head with his, then took the back of her neck between his teeth in a gentle grip.
Hermione keened and flexed her paws, claws extending and piercing layers of dead leaves.
Harry snarled playfully against the nape of her neck, then released his bite- hold. Hermione twisted under him, lightning-quick, and swatted at him. Not to hurt, her claws were safely tucked away. Harry jumped back from her all the same, then darted right back in to tackle her. They went down together, Hermione on her side and Harry pinning her with the bulk of his weight.
Harry buried his face in her mane and Hermione batted at his head with a furious tail-twitching to substitute where, as a human, she would have laughed.
They rose and chased one another through the forest. It was not the Forbidden Forest that ringed Hogwarts, which they'd come to know fairly well, so it was all the more exciting for its newness.
They came across a stream where they drank then splashed after one another. Then they patrolled through the forest like sentries. They spotted a doe and her fawn and took off after them. The hunt was unimaginably thrilling. To have taken down a kill and tasted fresh blood might have been even sweeter, but Hermione broke them from the pursuit when the poor, terrified animals were within paw's reach. At that critical moment, Hermione had veered straight into Harry and with a roar/scream he'd gone down, Hermione with him, while their prey streaked away into the woods. Harry had given her a good tussle for that stunt. It was amazing.
They had never been the cats for so long. On their morning runs they had barely an hour before they had to go back. It was small doses.
Hermione had lost any notion of time for how long ago they'd left Hogsmeade.
Maybe they could stay cats forever. It felt so good to be strong, fast, sure… wild.
Hermione jerked from a doze and noticed the sky. It was the first indication she'd taken note of as to the length of time they'd been in the woods. It was getting late.
Hermione mewled lowly at Harry to rouse him. After their hunt and play- fight they'd found a sunny spot and, exhausted, sprawled in the grass and carpet of leaves for a nap. They both lay on their sides in the sun-warmed fallen leaves. Harry was stretched out beside her, one powerful black foreleg draped over her side, his head perched on her shoulder, his eyes closed.
Harry huffed at her noise but didn't move to get up.
Hermione rolled up to lie with her elbows taking her weight. It jostled Harry and he had no choice but to wake. He lifted his head from her shoulder and moved forward to firmly plant his right paw on the far side of her body. It raked his body along hers, brought him to nearly lying on top of her.
Hermione shifted under him, craned her head back to try and look at him, and turned her tail aside.
Harry shifted higher over her, his right hind leg moved to the far side of her body to join his right forepaw, and for a moment he was covering her. He nipped at the back of her neck.
For a moment she let him, then, slippery as a fish, Hermione shimmied out from under him and turned to face him. Harry lay prim and proper, watching her with bright blue eyes.
Hermione stepped forward, bumped his forehead with hers, and she rubbed against him. He rubbed his head against her in return before she broke away and turned to leave.
Harry rose and followed.
They snuck back into Hogsmeade much as they'd left, through a narrow alleyway. Once again witch and wizard, they moved down the alley toward the main street, but just shy of emerging into the village proper they stopped. Harry turned to Hermione and for a moment it was electric. For a second, she was actually thinking he would do something… reckless. Like maybe kiss her.
Then he smiled and started picking leaves out of her hair. Hermione was atwitter at first and it took a moment to register what he was doing, but when she moved past her silly girlish notions she chuckled. Then she looked up at his hair and bit back a laugh. He had leaves and even a bit of twig in his hair.
So they picked each other clean in the dingy little alley, tugged and straightened their rumpled clothing, doing their best to make it seem that neither of them had just gone on a jaunt through the woods.
"There you two are!" a shrill voice startled them both from their task. Hermione looked sharply toward the voice and could feel herself pale when she saw McGonagall, looking fit to be tied, standing at the mouth of the alley with wand in hand.
"Where on earth have you two been?! Have you any idea how long the other professors and I have been looking for you? And just what do you think you are doing?" Her stare could have pierced a shielding charm. Suddenly she gasped and Hermione didn't have to be the brightest witch of her age to realize what McGonagall thought was going on. She and Harry were wedged in an alleyway alone, together, trying to make each other look presentable…
McGonagall turned a particularly worrisome shade of scarlet. "Of all the… to worry us all over this?! Get out here this instant!"
Harry gave Hermione a sheepish smile, shrugged, and was the first to slip out of the alley and back to the main road. Hermione emerged after him and saw the street filled with Hogwarts students. They'd already been gathered for the trek back to the castle (which had apparently been stalled while the entire adult population of Hogsmeade sought out Harry and Hermione). Now they were all staring openly at Harry and Hermione as they were pried from their little alley hide-away by an irate Professor McGonagall.
"You two…" McGonagall raged, outright fumed, and then was completely lost for words. It was almost painful to watch her grasp for something fitting to say to the pair of them. Hermione had to physically restrain herself from asking 'cat got your tongue?' because it would be cruel and McGonagall looked like she was fit to burst as it was. She was grasping fervently for a fitting reprimand.
But what could she say? In front of the other students, she couldn't very well give away that Harry had been their Judas goat for the weekend. Not when there were Slytherins in the cluster of students. She could certainly give them a tongue-lashing for their 'unseemly' behavior, but if no one actually saw them snogging and carrying on in an atrocious manner how far could she play the 'disgraceful behavior' card? Not enough to warrant her current fury, and she knew that.
In the end, she snapped, "The headmaster will hear of this, rest assured of that, Mister Potter and Miss Granger! Now go join the other students. We're late starting back already because of you two."
Harry and Hermione, putting on the show of appearing suitably cowed and abashed, melted into the mass of Hogwarts students. They were the target of stares, a few girl giggles, as well as pointed cold shoulders, but this time Hermione wasn't bothered by it.
As they started back she leaned in close to Harry and whispered, "We have to talk to Ron." He would have seen their grand entrance the same as everyoneelse, and she couldn't blame him for believing the same as everyone else would. It did look terribly damning, no matter how off base the popular assumption was. Experience taught them they had to nip these things in the bud when it came to Ron.
Harry looked up, found Ron's unmistakable red hair in the crowd, and gave a wordless nod.
Chapter Thirty Four
They didn't have an opportunity to speak with Ron in private until just before bed that night. By that time, Harry and Hermione's incident of being 'caught in a snog-session' by McGonagall was all over the school. It didn't ruffle Harry or Hermione, by then they'd stopped paying attention to the rampant rumors about the two of them, but Hermione was growing concerned about their mutual friend. The more times Ron heard the story, the redder his face became and the sourer his expression grew when he was with her and Harry. Which ended up being a lot. Ron had not stomped off or ignored them as he might have a couple of weeks ago, but he'd clammed up right quick after Hogsmeade. He'd not spoken to either Harry or Hermione since the Three Broomsticks. He communicated instead with grunts, looks, and shrugs. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances at Ron's taciturn shift, but until they could get him alone they couldn't do a thing about it.
Their chance came when the last of the Gryffindors, save the three of them, went up to bed, leaving the common room empty of unwanted ears. It was the privacy for which Hermione had been waiting anxiously.
As soon as the last sound of retreating footsteps faded, Hermione closed shut the book she'd had open in her lap for the past hour pretending to read. She looked up at her two friends in the common room with her.
She was sitting on one end of the couch with Ron way over on the other.
The vacancy between them seemed gaping, wide enough for Hagrid to wedgehimself into had he been there. Harry was lying on his stomach on the mat situated before the hearth, his chin perched atop his folded hands as he idly looked through a Quidditch magazine laid open flat only a matter of inches from his nose. Given the situation, they'd thought it best they not share the couch as the typically would have. Seemed no reason to aggravate Ron's suspicions further.
Harry glanced toward Hermione as soon as she moved to close her book. It was the first movement from her in a good half-hour, including any pointless page-turning. He could read in her face that she intended to bring it up at last, and he gave a tick of a nod in agreement. He rolled over on to his side facing them and propped his head up with one hand.
"Ron," Hermione turned to look directly at their tight-lipped comrade. He didn't respond when she called his name, and that didn't bode well at all, but Hermione soldiered on; she hadn't expected this was going to be easy. "I know what you're thinking, about earlier, but it wasn't what you think it was."
Ron inhaled twice through his nose, peered at the fire without answering, then he finally turned his head to look at Hermione. "All right, Hermione, what was it then?" In his tense voice and furrowed brow it was visibly plain the effort he was making not to judge them before he'd heard them out.
From Ron, it was a monumental gesture, and Hermione found herself touched that he would struggle against his nature on their behalf.
It was a golden chance they dared not shun.
"It…" then she stopped abruptly and darted a look at Harry. What were they going to tell Ron? They hadn't discussed it. It seemed more important to forestall Ron's wild assumptions that were sure to fly, so much so that they'd neglected to discuss the reason they wanted to tell Ron for their spectacle in Hogsmeade. Not to mention it wouldn't have helped their cause any to sneak off alone together to go over their strategy for approaching Ron. Ron had stuck with them the whole rest of the day, though he'd obviously been none to happy about it. Now Hermione was at a loss how to explain away the compromising position she and Harry had seemingly been in when McGonagall dragged them from the alley.
Harry sat up, turned to squarely face the couch, and watched Hermione closely to see how she'd want to proceed. His acquiescing expression spoke volumes. He was going to leave it up to her discretion what and how much they told Ron.
Ron mistook their silent conference for conspiracy. He was, to say the least,put out by the flagrant display enacted right in front of him. Then he looked almost physically pained. "Look, I'm trying really hard here, so if it's not what I think it was, then just tell me what it was."
Hermione chewed on her bottom lip and looked despairingly at Ron. It was so clear he was trying, but what was she to say? The truth seemed the easy answer, but a selfish part of her wanted to keep the cats secret, her and Harry's private escape from their world that had turned so gloomy and grave. Which left the question, if not the truth, what could they tell Ron that would keep their recently repaired friendship from cracking anew? Unbidden, her eyes returned to Harry, as though he could give her some guidance.
"You know," Ron said with a scowl, "you told me you two aren't together, and I believed that. Are you telling me now that was a lie?"
"No!" Hermione blurted. Then she made her decision. To save their friendship with Ron, there was only one thing to do.
She turned to look again at Harry and she could swear he already knew her thoughts from the way he met her eyes. "We have to tell him, Harry."
Ron sighed in disgust. "I knew it."
Harry merely nodded and got up from the floor. As he headed for the boys' dorm Hermione turned her attention back to Ron. "No, Ron, you've got it wrong. We're not together… but there is something Harry and I haven't been completely honest with you about."
Ron studied Hermione carefully, obviously torn about what and how much to believe. Hermione wished she could just wave her wand and fix this, make it easier or unnecessary.
Harry returned to the common room with his father's cloak in hand.
Ron went from suspicious to bewildered when he recognized the invisibility cloak. "Hang on a minute, where are we going?"
Hermione stood and stepped toward Harry. She looked up, met Harry's gaze, and hoped he felt the same as she did about telling Ron their secret. She thought she knew, but did she really? She dreaded to think Harry would ever resent her for making this decision for the both of them without ever actually talking to him before-hand. Yet when she looked into his eyes, they reflected only trust and complete faith in her judgment. It bolstered Hermione's resolve that this was the right course of action.
She turned to Ron and said, "We can't tell you here, Ron. You'll just have to trust us. I promise, we'll tell you everything… like we should have from the start."
Ron stared at Hermione in close scrutiny, turned the same expression on Harry, then stood with a fed-up wave of his arms. "Oh, bugger it, fine, but this better be good."
The three of them barely fit under the cloak anymore, and Hermione, sandwiched in the middle, felt almost claustrophobic. The sense of suffocation was intensified by the fact that Ron was tense on her right, on the cusp of another row with the both of them, and Harry, on her left, knew it as well as she. It was sad. They used to cram up under this same cloak, the three of them, and steal off in the middle of the night, and it had always been a thrill, a sense of adventure. Now it was fraught with hostility on the brink of erupting. Hermione ached to think how things could change so much, how they could bring friends closer while at the same time pushing other friends apart. But hopefully, after tonight, things between the three of them would be a bit more like they'd been before.
Outside, the sky was overcast and the grounds nearly pitch black. They dare not cast lumos to light their way, at least not until they were much farther from the castle than the metaphorical front stoop. Ron hesitated, clearly noticing the same poor visibility that Hermione had. Hermione briefly but quickly took hold of his wrist to still him and bid him 'wait' without saying anything. Then she waited on Harry. After a moment, when he moved forward, she was right at his side. She tugged gently on Ron's wrist, and his muscles stiffened in protest under her fingers, then he squished in even closer to her side and picked his way over the ground blindly.
As they made their way over the grounds, a light dusting of snow began to fall. Hermione shivered and pressed tighter into Harry's side. Soon afterward, Hermione felt Harry's arm close around her waist. It warded off the chill that had gripped her and she welcomed the warmth. Packed together as they were, though, Ron would feel Harry hook his arm around her waist, and quickly Hermione snaked out her own arm and hugged Ron close to her right side. He was awkward and uncomfortable in her hold, but she'd rather him think they were all linking together to make their collective steps easier than believe Harry was doing something boyfriendly with her.
Harry led them, unerringly, toward the woods. Hermione had known at once that's where they would go. As they got closer, however, Ron jerked to a stop and broke the perfect quiet of their exodus when he realized where they were going.
"That's the Forbidden Forest," he hissed in a shocked whisper.
Hermione tightened her hold around his waist. "We know, Ron."
He did not take kindly to their apparent intent to walk into the dangerous woods with full knowledge of their actions. "Are you two mental?"
"You'll be safe. Please, Ron. We have to get out of sight of the castle."
Ron still balked for a moment, but Hermione tugged insistently on him, implored him with physical action to keep moving, and with a grumble Ron followed. It seemed to take less urging on Hermione's part to have Ron tuck in close to her as they slipped into the night-black forest. After picking their way beyond a few trees, Ron almost reluctantly brought up his arm and looped it around Hermione's waist much as she clung to him. She wasn't sure how Harry would feel about that, but for now it was progress. And very much like the old days, Ron's arm on one side of her, Harry's on the other.
When Harry deemed them a safe distance from the castle, he threw off the cloak that had concealed the trio. When they were no longer forced to hunker down and press together, Harry stepped a pace away from Ron… and for half that distance pulled Hermione after him with the arm that lingered a second on her waist.
Having had time for her eyes to adjust normally to the darkness, she could just barely make out Ron's features as he stood facing them. He looked uneasy. Small wonder, since the few times he'd been in the Forbidden Forest at night it had been to learn just why it was forbidden to Hogwarts students. The sounds of the night were thick and eerie around them. She couldn't really fault Ron for being a tad jumpy… if she didn't know she could become a beast fit and capable of fending off any creature the forest harbored, she might be a little leery of this ominous meeting place, too.
"Okay, what's so bloody secret that we had to come out here to talk?" Ron asked, edgy.
Hermione glanced at Harry only to see him standing back, aloof, the watcher tonight. She'd give him that. Hermione pressed her lips together to steel herself. With a breath she turned and faced Ron. "You have to swear you'll keep this a secret, Ron."
"Keep what a secret?!"
"Just swear… on our friendship, promise you won't tell anyone."
Ron bristled. Snow began to fall with increased regularity, landing wet andpin-prick cold on Hermione's cheeks and dampening her hair. "You know," Ron retorted, "I think our friendship's been stretched a bit thin this year, and I have to say it looks to me to be getting thinner. Just tell me what the bloody hell is going on." For a beat, Harry and Hermione were equally quiet. Ron shook his head. "I feel like I barely know you two anymore!"
Hermione frowned at him. This was getting uglier than she'd expected. "If friendship isn't enough for you to swear by, then swear on Harry's life you'll never speak of this to anyone, because if you do it could mean his life."
Ron stopped cold at that. Even at odds with Harry, he still could not abide by ever endangering Harry's life. Hermione was glad to see that, at least, was still unchanged.
"I swear," Ron finally vowed, and for that at least the venom was gone from his voice.
Hermione nodded, satisfied Ron would not betray their confidence, then tried to think of where to start. She wasn't sure how far back to go. Should she start with their decision during the summer to try to become animagi? What about their months of preparation, or Kimmy's invaluable assistance? Should she walk through the steps, retell it like a story in one of her much-loved books?
Ron was watching her expectantly.
In the end, she went with the simplicity of directness. "Harry and I are animagi."
Ron's mouth dropped open. Quite suddenly the sounds of the night seemed to amplify in the comparative dead silence that had engulfed the three students. Ron stood there and gaped at Hermione as if she'd just confessed to being Snape's illegitimate daughter.
Hermione held her breath in wait for how he was going to react.
Ron closed his mouth. His eyebrows drew together in a burgeoning frown. Then he stiffened. "Sure you are."
Hermione blinked, taken aback by his response. Of all his reactions, disbelief hadn't been one she'd expected. Anger she'd anticipated most, and there was a fair bit of that, but flat-out not believing them…
"We are. Harry and I spent the whole summer working on it. See, at end of last term I checked out this book—"
Ron cut her off with a dismissive flick of his hand. "You know, of you I'd expect a better lie than that, Hermione." Ron angrily took a step toward to Hermione, for what purpose she couldn't begin to guess. She never found out, because Harry broke from his sentinel-like position on the fringe to immediately move up and stand directly behind her. Ron saw it, stopped, and very nearly sneered. "If you two are going to snog then fine. I know I've no say in it, but please, just do me the favor of being honest with me.
"Did it ever occur to you that I might just be okay with it? I may not like it, but I can learn to deal with you and Harry being together." Ron stepped away from them in disgust. "Instead I get this! Animagi!
"I'm going back to the castle. Good night."
With that, Ron turned on his heel and started storming off, for the moment his indignation seemed to have overpowered his fear of the Forbidden Forest. He was that upset. Hermione watched him leaving and felt helpless. She had no idea what to do. They hadn't lied!
Harry, it seemed, would take the decision out of her hands. She saw his powerful panther form move past her and head toward Ron with nary a sound to mark his passage. At a loss herself, she stood back and watched to see what Harry planned to do.
Harry swiftly and silently slipped through the trees, circled around Ron as the redhead marched back toward the castle, and like a shadow of the night itself Harry stepped out of the bushes a mere foot in front of Ron.
"Ahhh!" Ron screamed and jumped back from the panther that had seemingly materialized in his path.
Hermione rushed up to Ron and steadied him, "It's okay! It's just Harry, Ron."
Ron appeared thoroughly shaken as he looked, with saucer-like eyes, between Hermione and the large black cat that had come upon him from the darkness without warning."Harry?!" Ron squeaked. The panther lifted its head a fraction higher, and reflexively Ron went for his wand.
"Don't," Hermione slapped his hand away and grabbed the redhead tightly by the arm. "It's Harry, Ron. Look," she pointed with her other hand at Harry's cat form, "see the scar?"
Ron, still twitching to draw his wand, reluctantly looked toward the pantheragain. He stared a moment, then he began to frown when he saw the distinctive lightning-shaped white mark on the animal's brow. His frown deepened as he started to believe just maybe the black beast before him was his good mate.
Ron glanced at Hermione, seeking assurance, then looked back at the cat and stammered, "Ha-Harry?"
Harry stepped out from the trees and moved slowly toward Ron. Ron took an instinctive step back, but Hermione did not move. She knew far better than to fear Harry in panther form. Harry walked right up to her, rubbed his shoulder against her legs, and watched Ron steadily with familiar blue eyes.
Hermione reached down to touch Harry on the head, but she kept her eyes on Ron.
She could almost watch the struggle wash over his face. The evidence before him was undeniable. Hermione was no animal bewitcher… she would not have a panther at her feet, submitting to her hand, unless it was no true panther at all. The white mark in the exact shape of Harry's scar would be a dead giveaway. But still, to think that the young wizard Ron had known for years had this capability within him to become this powerful animal…
Hermione decided to spare him any kind of reaction right away. "Harry and I have been coming into the Forbidden Forest every morning on our runs to get used to our animagus forms. That's where we were when we disappeared from Hogsmeade today. We were in the woods, in our animagus forms. We weren't off snogging."
'No… no, I… I suppose not. I mean, Harry couldn't very well snog in that state," Ron conceded stiltedly. He took a wary step closer to them. Harry lifted his chin to look up at Ron, his clear eyes steady.
"Is that really you, Harry?"
Harry lifted a paw and batted at thin air.
Ron chuckled. "Blimey… I… and you," he glanced toward Hermione, "you can, uh, change into something, too?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes, I can. I become a lioness." Ron looked thunderstruck. Then… "Wicked." Hermione smiled hopefully.
Ron opened his mouth to speak, paused, shuffled around a bit bashfully, then asked, "Could, uh… d'you think I could see it?"
"What, the lioness?" Ron nodded vigorously.
Hermione offered a very careful smirk. "You're not going to get scared and run off, are you?"
Ron's face screwed at the insinuation. "No." Although it seemed perfectly well to ask him since he'd nearly bolted from Harry on first sight of his animagus form.
Hermione crouched down to the ground and with well-practiced ease transformed into the lioness. She gave a shake of her head that ruffled her mane. Harry looked over at her then back at Ron.
"Blimey!" Ron croaked as he stared between the two cats that were moments ago his friends.
Hermione cautiously approached Ron, who tensed but did not flee. She touched his hand with her nose then sat at his feet and looked up calmly at him. Ron gave a nervous laugh.
Hermione returned to Harry's side and changed back. Following her lead, Harry transformed back to wizard form a second after her. It left them standing next to one another as though nothing unusual had happened. Ron just looked flabbergasted.
"I know we should have told you earlier, Ron, and I'm sorry we didn't," Hermione said. "At first we didn't know if we'd be able to become animagi so there seemed no need, and once we were animagi you weren't speaking to us, and then… I guess it just got to be habit to keep it between the two of us."
Ron ruffled a hand through his hair, still out of sorts from the discovery. "I just… that's… that's so amazing. How'd you two ever manage?"
For the first time, Harry spoke. "It wasn't easy."
Ron gave a 'no doubt' snort and said when a thought struck him, "You two are rogue animagi, aren't you? Not registered or anything? That's why it's a huge secret, isn't it?"
"Yes... and we don't want Voldemort to find out what we can do," Harryreplied evenly.
"Yeah… yeah, I can imagine that would be a bad laugh." Ron's expression turned resolute. "Well, no worries from me, guys. I won't tell a soul."
Hermione smiled in honest relief. "Thank you, Ron."
"Wow… I can't get over it. You two animagi. That is so…" Ron stopped and cocked his head, "hey, what are you going to tell Dumbledore?"
"Dumbledore?" Harry asked in bafflement (and with perhaps a little iciness to his tone for his recent dissension with the headmaster). "We'd not planned on telling him anything about our being animagi."
"No," Hermione trailed as she caught on to Ron's train of thought, "but we'll have to tell him something to explain this afternoon. Remember McGonagall was going to report to Dumbledore about our up and disappearing from the village."
Harry frowned.
Hermione thought hard for a moment, then groaned inwardly and bit the bullet. "We'll just have to say we were snogging."
Harry's eyebrows ticked upward and Ron snorted, though he tried to cover it with a fake cough.
"The entire school thinks that anyway, and now that Ron knows it's not true," she glanced toward Ron, who nodded in affirmation. She looked back to Harry and continued, "We can use it to our advantage. Let Dumbledore think that's what we were doing. It's better he think that than know the truth."
"I don't know…" Harry said dubiously, "will Dumbledore believe that we were off snogging?"
"Oh, definitely," Ron said immediately.
Both Harry and Hermione looked over at him. Ron gave an expansive shrug,
"What? He will."
"We might get into a spot of trouble for sneaking off to snog," Hermione added quickly, "but not near as much trouble as we'd be in if he knew we were rogue animagi."
Harry sighed and shrugged in defeat. "Okay. If you think he'll buy it, thenthat's our plan. We were off snogging."
Hermione nodded then shivered when a snowflake landed on her eyelashes. It reminded her of the snow coming down. "I think we'd best head back before it's noticed that we're gone."
When they squeezed back underneath the cloak together, Hermione sandwiched in the middle once again, she noted with relief that it didn't feel nearly so unbearably crowded or suffocating.
In his dreams, he was free. The jungle was verdant and close on all sides of him. He was the lord of it all by virtue of his prowess. His speed and his strength and his power bequeathed the jungle to him. He ruled with fang and claw. No enemy could threaten him here.
He raced through the trees and the ferns and the thick shrubs with a master's skill, never a misstep taken. He leapt and it was close to flying. He ran so fast he believed nothing could ever touch him. Tapirs, capybaras, peccaries, and fleet-footed tropical deer scattered from his path. Birds sang overhead in exotic serenades, as though they sang for him. Sunlight sliced through miniscule breaks in the thick canopy to strain to touch him, like a rare ebony gemstone. But they could only reach him for a bare second, could only slide down the length of his form longingly before he was beyond their reach. Uncatchable, even to the sun.
He burst forth from a curtain-like stand of ferns, pushed through their hanging leaves as easily as he might part a veil of mist, and he stopped. Before him snaked a stream, a sliver of blue amid the myriad shades of green. On the far side of the water a lioness was crouched down to drink. When he came upon her, she looked up at him. She lifted her head, muzzle dripping crystalline beads of water. She sat up regally and watched him with untroubled calm. Her tongue flicked out and licked her lips. Her chocolate- brown eyes were steady as she regarded him. She had a fringe of a chestnut- brown mane that was dappled golden and tan by the dancing sunlight.
He moved toward her. She was another lord here, she ruled with the same power and fang and claw as he. Here was a creature he did not rule above. But her, too, he would have.
"Harry…"
Still tangled in the images of his dream, Harry flicked open his eyes and saw, hovering over him, chestnut brown hair, chocolate-brown eyes, that presence of strong certainty.
He moved on cat-like reflex. Harry's hands shot out and he grabbed her around the shoulders. He pulled, twisted, and within a matter of seconds he had Hermione pinned on his bed beneath him. He held himself aloft over her, on his knees and his hands which were still locked around her upper arms. His eyes flashed and the dream vanished, and only then did he really recognize what he'd done in the waking world.
Hermione, who'd been so roughly snared and pinned without warning, instantly laughed. Harry loosened his hold on her and smiled sheepishly, relieved she wasn't angry. He couldn't rightly say what had gotten into him.
He'd been in the jungle, and there had been a lioness…
"For Merlin's sake, Harry! Get your own room for that!" Dean wailed from the other side of the room.
Harry blushed furiously. He didn't know the other boys were in the room, too. Quickly, he scrambled off of his bed and off of Hermione. He turned, against his better judgment, and saw the blurry shape of Dean's dark face a blot in his maroon-and-gold themed bed. The pale blob that was snickering would be Seamus.
Harry snatched up his glasses and brought the world into embarrassing focus. Ron was in the next bed over, looking at Harry with a slightly beleaguered look on his face… which Harry supposed was better than spitting mad.
Harry turned back to Hermione and for a second his heart lodged firmly in his throat. She'd not moved from where he'd left her, laid out on his bed, amid his rumpled sheets. Her hair was fanning out against the mattress, gold and chestnut curls as the sun crept in through the window. She looked completely unperturbed, instead almost self-assured as she smiled up at him.
Harry's blood flow took a radical turn south and he cleared his throat.
"Hermione… what are you doing?"
"You, Ron, and I have somewhere to be, remember?" Right. Dumbledore. Wandless magic.
"Oh… uh… right."
Hermione got up off his bed and bade, "Get dressed the two of you, I'll meet you down in the common room," then she breezed out of the boys' dorm likeshe was Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt.
Harry watched after her, his stomach turned upside-down.
"Blimey, Harry," Seamus said, "for once I'd actually call you a lucky bastard."
Harry smirked and turned back to his bed. As he hastily made it he caught whiffs of Hermione's smell on the sheets. He hoped the house elves didn't change the sheets today… he'd like to find out if the faint smell would hold until tonight when he crawled back into bed.