Chapter 19
"Are you insane?" Ron panted as he and Harry sprinted from the dungeons towards the first-floor girls' bathroom. "Do you have any idea how stupid that was?"
Harry turned to throw Ron an irritated glare, except it wasn't Ron at all. It had been almost an hour since he, Ron, and Hermione had downed Polyjuice Potion in Moaning Myrtle's empty bathroom in hopes of getting information about the Chamber of Secrets out of Malfoy. So, instead of Ron's freckled face looking at him with shock, it was the confused flat-nosed mug of Malfoy's lackey Vincent Crabbe.
"I said, do you have any idea how stupid that was?" Ron gasped out in between deep breaths as the two of them dashed up a staircase. "If Malfoy didn't have the common sense of a mashed potato you would have just blown everything!"
Harry ignored his comment. He'd been fuming at Malfoy for the past hour, and even when he wasn't in his presence he was still furious. As he ascended the stairs and sprinted into the girls' restroom they'd departed recently. He practically kicked the door down, with Ron running in behind him.
"Hermione?" He barked out, his voice still the low rasp of Gregory Goyle. "We're back!"
"Harry, sorry, Goyle here almost blew the whole thing!" Ron griped as he and Harry neared the stall they'd left Hermione in. "But thanks to my brilliance and quick-thinking, we were able to escape before Malfoy realized we were spying on him."
Harry suddenly felt like he was shrinking, and a quick turn to the mirror showed him he was transforming back into his real self. He and Ron quickly changed into their original clothes once they had returned to their normal selves.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked as he slipped his glasses back on. He gingerly rapped on the locked stall door. "We're all transformed now, is something wrong?"
"Go away!" She squeaked, and Harry swore he heard a sob. He turned to Ron, who looked equally as bewildered as he was. They glanced back to the locked door uneasily.
"Do you still look like Millicent Bulstrode? We know she's ugly, we won't hold it against you." Ron offered cheerfully. His smile faltered when the lock slid open and the door creaked outwards. A pair of yellow eyes blinked back at the two boys, surrounded by black hair. Out of a familiar mane of bushy-brown hair poked two pointed ears.
"Millicent…" Hermione trailed off, trying and failing to steady her wavering voice. "M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations, and now I'm h-h-hideous!" She howled, burying her face in her hands.
Harry was stunned. His brain was still working overtime to process the cat-humanoid hybrid that stood in front of him. He blinked, half-expecting the mirage to fade and for Hermione to be standing in front of him, watching him quizzically as he stared at her.
"Oh no…" Ron whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.
"It's alright, Hermione." Harry managed to sputter, still feeling more confused than anything. "Let's get you to the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey's pretty good about not asking questions. Come on." He said, holding out his hand. Hermione gingerly opened her eyes and took it, and he quickly ushered her out of the bedroom.
"The Hospital Wing isn't far, come on. There's barely a dozen people in the castle anyway." Ron added as they entered the – empty, thankfully – corridor. They arrived in the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey stood bewildered for a few seconds before shepherding Hermione into one of the beds.
"She needs to take about a dozen rather unpleasant remedies right now. No more visitors until tomorrow morning. Out, out!" The nurse practically shoved Harry and Ron away from Hermione's bed and into the corridor.
Harry walked dejectedly back to the common room. Neither he nor Ron felt they had it in them to talk about anything, so they went to bed early. Harry practically collapsed on his bed, not even bothering to change out of his Christmas jumper from Mrs. Weasley and his black jeans from J. Crew. He glanced down at the pants and smiled at the memory of going shopping with the Grangers.
"Take care of her." Mr. Granger's voice echoed in his head. He felt like ripping the dormitory to shreds. He'd said he would protect Hermione, no matter what. Now, their desperation to prove that Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin had landed her in the Hospital Wing for whoever knows how long.
"Take care of her." He thought back to Dobby appearing in the Grangers' guest room, and telling him and Hermione that they'd be in danger if they went to Hogwarts. He had adamantly refused, and now Hermione was stuck in a hospital bed while a monster roamed the Hogwarts halls. The very monster had already petrified two Muggle-borns, and it showed no signs of stopping.
"Take care of her." It was only a matter of time before the monster got to Hermione. Before she was petrified. Or worse.
"Take care of her."
He was seeing red now. He wasn't sure if he was angrier at Malfoy, at Slytherin's monster, or at himself, but he was positively fuming. He sat bolt upright and panted for a moment, feeling sweat bead up on his forehead. He swung his legs off of his bed and marched over to his trunk, the sound of his footfalls the only sound in the dormitory besides Ron's snores. He wasn't sure how long he'd laid awake in bed, agonizing over Hermione's new ailment and the danger that had enveloped Hogwarts. He was too upset to even glance at his watch, instead wrenching his Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk and whipping it around himself.
Once he had disappeared entirely he stormed out of the dormitory, practically leaping down the stairs and running across the deserted common room.
He felt his face scrunch up in sheer rage as he stalked the corridors. He didn't even know he was nearing the Hospital Wing until he almost walked into the oak doors. He stood, surprised at himself, and stared at the entrance for a few moments. For a moment, his anger vanished, replaced with uncertainty if he should go in. Then, he thought about Hermione lying on the other side of the doors and he was seething all over again. He jerked open the doors ready to stomp to Hermione's bed, not even sure what he was going to say.
But he froze. Hermione's bed was the furthest from the door, for privacy's sake. He expected her to be asleep. It was pitch-dark outside and had been for some time. Instead, he saw her bed illuminated in the moonlight, clear as day. She wasn't asleep. She was reading.
At least, she had been, before she dropped the book in surprise and peered towards the suddenly-opened doors. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but realized he was still invisible.
"Harry?" She whispered, and her tone sounded almost hopeful.
Every speck of anger he'd been feeling for the entire night vanished. The rage that flowed through him like it had permeated his bloodstream was gone. The fury that had contorted his face into what was undoubtedly an ugly expression dissipated. He blinked, feeling as if every muscle in his body had un-clenched simultaneously. He slowly pulled the cloak off of himself, and he heard Hermione's breath hitch from the other side of the room.
"Hermione…" He whispered. As if by magic, he wasn't angry anymore. He walked slowly, dragging the cloak behind him. Hermione had beamed when he'd revealed himself, but as he drew closer her smile faltered. He knew why. He couldn't subdue the look on his face. He was barely suppressing what was threatening to spill out of his throat. His eyes stung and his whole body trembled as he collapsed in a chair next to his best friend's bed.
It was taking every bit of willpower he had to not cry in front of Hermione. And he was barely succeeding.
"Oh, Harry…" Hermione whispered, her voice breaking. She held her hand out to his and he took it with both hands, squeezing harder than he intended to. He leaned towards her bed, pressing her hand to his forehead and directing his eyes to the ground.
"Hermione, I'm so sorry – "
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Harry." Her voice was soft. So soft, so empathetic, so kind. It only made Harry want to cry that much more.
"I should have listened to – "
"Harry Potter, if you finish that sentence with the word 'Dobby' I'm going to throw you out the window." Hermione was smiling, but her eyes – even without the brown hue that Harry had been used to – showed concern.
"Hermione, look at yourself." Harry's voice was wavering now more than ever. "You're stuck in the Hospital Wing, you're half-cat all of a sudden, and there's a monster going around petrifying Muggle-borns, you…" He paused, taking a shaky breath. "You're in danger, Hermione. I'm scared of losing you."
There was an uncomfortable silence. Harry wanted to walk back everything he'd said. He wanted to travel back in time and place himself back in his dormitory, and force himself not to leave his bed until breakfast. Better yet, he wanted to travel back to his twelfth birthday, and give Dobby his word that Hermione Granger would never set foot in Hogwarts.
"Harry, I have something to give you." She finally exhaled. "It's a gift. And I think you really need it right now." Harry cracked a smile but kept his eyes on the stone floor.
"Hermione, we're not talking about gifts right now." His voice was trembling, and he wanted to steady it, to seem much calmer than he was. "We're talking about you. And how you're not safe – "
"It wasn't even supposed to be a Christmas gift, actually. Truth be told it's not finished." She chuckled, and Harry wondered how in the world she could be laughing right now. "I thought about giving it to you as a last-day-of-term gift, or maybe as a birthday gift. I don't really know, honestly. It was a spur of the moment idea to make, and I – "
"Hermione, what on Earth are you talking about?" Harry finally lifted his head and saw she was holding something. He raised an eyebrow, trying to make it out in the moonlight. It was a round piece of paper, by the looks of it, maybe three inches in diameter.
"Hermione, as much as I appreciate it, this gift is not what I think we should be discussing right now." She held it out to him and he shook his head. "Hermione, listen to me, I think you should write home – "
"Honestly, Harry, just take the damn thing!" She snapped, her tone sharpening all of a sudden. He flinched at her sudden terseness, and gingerly grabbed the unexpected present.
The paper was thicker than he was expecting, and he realized it was a sticker. He couldn't mask his amusement that his best friend had decided to give him a sticker until he took a closer look at it. The sticker was emblazoned with two words in beautiful calligraphy – Quidditch Resistance.
"Hermione, what is this?" He asked, examining it with curiosity. He saw several small shapes flying around, and upon closer inspection he saw that they were figures on broomsticks. "Really? You remembered the Quidditch Resistance? That was over a month ago!" He couldn't hide his incredulousness at what he was looking at.
"Of course I remembered. I was actually quite proud that it made you laugh." Hermione practically scoffed at the assumption that she wouldn't remember. "I was going to add some more colors, try and make it look prettier before I gave it to you."
"It's amazing, Hermione, but why – "
"After what you just said, I think it's clear you need a reminder of something." She said pointedly, and Harry glanced up from the sticker. "Do you remember anything else about that conversation besides the fact that McGonagall threatened to cancel Quidditch?"
Harry thought back to their night in the Hospital Wing after Lockhart had removed every bone in his right arm. Before Dobby had shown up and confirmed that the Chamber of Secrets was real. Before a petrified Colin Creevey had been carried in by Dumbledore and several other professors. Before the Hogwarts faculty had departed the room and Harry and Hermione spent hours talking about the attack and what might have been in the Chamber of Secrets. Before all of that, Hermione had told him something.
"You said you'd be by my side for anything. From You-Know-Who…"
"…to the Quidditch Resistance." Hermione's new whiskers twitched as she beamed at him. "That includes the Chamber of Secrets. I'm not going anywhere, no matter how much you want me to lock myself in my room in Crawley."
Harry couldn't stop himself from grinning in admiration. He felt a rush of warmth flow through him at the sight of Hermione's confident smile. And her words echoed around in his brain for a moment.
'She's not going anywhere. No matter what.' He thought to himself almost giddily. 'I've got Hermione.'
"I said I'd be by your side, Harry, and I meant it. I know you want to find out what's in the Chamber of Secrets and why it's gone after Mrs. Norris, and Colin Creevey, and that prat from Hufflepuff Justin Finch-Fletchley." Hermione grabbed his other hand with her free hand, and Harry felt electricity course through both of his arms all the way to his heart. "I'm going to be there with you. I don't need you to protect me, Harry Potter."
Harry sighed, and somehow his smile widened. He nodded his head in understanding, and Hermione beamed once again.
"Fair enough." Harry stood, squeezing both of his friend's hands affectionately. Then he realized what he was doing and hurriedly sat back down. Hermione cocked her head, her pointy ears scrunching up as her eyebrows crinkled together.
"Why'd you sit down so fast?"
"Oh, well…" Harry suddenly was very unsure of how he would explain it. "I just remembered how much time you've spent at my bedside while I was in here…" He gestured to the surrounding beds. "I don't know, it just suddenly hit me that it was the least I could do to stay here for a little while longer."
"Harry, it's alright, you don't have to – "
"I want to, Hermione. Whether you want to talk or just rest, I'll be here. Remember that night – I said I'd be there for you too."
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione leaned over the edge of the bed so she could wrap her arms around her best friend. Harry winced as his ribs were subjected to another crushing hug from Hermione Granger. "You're so sweet, you know? I don't think you understand just how sweet you are."
"What does that mean?" He managed to splutter, his lungs running low on oxygen. Mercifully, Hermione pulled away with a smile.
"Oh, nothing." She answered, suddenly averting her eyes. "Would you mind just talking for a bit?"
"You usually just start talking without giving me a choice – "
"Oh, honestly…" Hermione shook her head, scooting back so she could sit up better. "Is that a yes?"
"What do you want to talk about?" Harry asked, lounging in his chair to make himself more comfortable.
"Can we start with how Ron said you almost bungled the Polyjuice incident? I heard him grumbling about it when you two came back from talking to Malfoy." Her expression turned pensive. "I've been wondering about what it was that you did."
"Oh…" Harry shifted in his seat again, but this time he couldn't make himself comfortable. He had tried to forget how he'd almost blown his cover during his and Ron's attempt to get Malfoy to confess. "Ron exaggerated, I just – "
"I'm well aware that Ronald Weasley exaggerates a great many things, but I don't think this was one of those times." Hermione interjected, crossing her arms. "What happened?"
"Well…" Harry felt his body tense up once again as he thought of Malfoy's sadistic sneer. "Malfoy said something."
"I would imagine."
"Hermione, as much as I love it when you get cute – get smart, with me," Harry suddenly felt much hotter than he had a few minutes ago, "this is really serious. To me." Hermione nodded wordlessly, dropping the playful smirk from her face. "Malfoy called you it again. The word."
"Harry, surely you expected something like that to happen. What did you do?"
Harry shook his head, finding it very hard to maintain eye contact with his best friend.
"He said last time the Chamber opened, a Muggle-born student was killed." Harry let out a shaky exhale. "And he said he hopes it's you this time."
Hermione hitched her breath, and Harry suddenly wanted to tell her…well, he actually didn't know what he wanted to tell her. He didn't know what he could say to her that would lighten whatever reaction she had to what he'd just told her. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn't have the slightest idea how, so he decided to progress with the story.
"We were sitting across from each other, so I kicked him in the shins." Harry finally continued. "If we were standing I probably would have punched him. Ron – er, Crabbe – grabbed me and told Malfoy I'd been having leg spasms all day, and that he was taking me to the Hospital Wing. So we ran."
Hermione just nodded silently, finally exhaling. She gave Harry a look of understanding, one that managed to communicate that they didn't have to talk about that anymore. Harry pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair, and Hermione suddenly reached her arms above her head and stretched.
"I don't think I've ever seen you stretch like that…" Harry wondered out loud before he could stop himself. Hermione was lying over her covers, so Harry was able to see her back arch in a way he'd never seen before as she extended her arms upwards. He realized how moronic he'd sounded and quickly tried to think of something else to say before Hermione giggled.
"I've been doing it ever since this started." She flashed him a smile, and Harry noticed how much whiter her teeth appeared with the black fur that coated her face. "I think it's another temporary side effect of inadvertently turning into a cat…" She mused, and Harry thought her voice seemed more playful than it had previously.
"Another?" He asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
"Well, besides the obvious…" She gestured to her face and ears before her eyes darted downwards.
"Just that?"
Hermione didn't speak, instead gradually lifted her head to meet Harry's eyes. He was certain that if her face wasn't covered in black fur, his best friend would be blushing profusely.
"What else is different now?" He asked. She slowly curled her knees up to her chest, still not answering. "I won't laugh, Hermione, I promise."
"I purr." She whispered so quietly that Harry barely heard her.
"Did you say you purr?"
"Don't make fun of me!"
"I'm not, Hermione! Honestly, I'm not!" He threw his hands up as if he were surrendering. "So, you purr. Big deal." He tried to keep his expression completely neutral. Slowly, Hermione managed an appreciative smile.
"Thanks Harry." It was another whisper, barely a few decibels. Harry gave a small smile of his own.
"Did Madam Pomfrey say how long it will take to…you know…"
"She says I won't be fur-free until well after the holidays. Probably early February." Hermione sighed. She blinked her yellow eyes a few times, and Harry saw they were sparkling with tears.
"You'll be alright. I'll bring you notes from every class while you're in here." Harry placed his hand on top of hers. "Although I think my life's going to be pretty miserable in class for the next month or so."
"You'll miss me that much?" Hermione asked playfully.
"Well, yeah. Obviously." He winked, and Hermione's entire face seemed to brighten. "But life will also be miserable because we won't have the brightest witch of our age getting twenty points for Gryffindor every time she raises her hand."
Hermione swatted his arm with the hand that wasn't being held by Harry. "Don't make me blush…" She mumbled, ducking her head embarrassedly. Harry grinned in satisfaction.
"It's not like I'm lying." He squeezed her hand.
"Harry…" She beamed, turning her palm upwards so she could lace her fingers with his. "Thank you for visiting me. I'm glad this night in the Hospital Wing hasn't been interrupted by a house-elf."
"Well, the night is still young." Harry shrugged. "Maybe Dobby will swing by to tell us that he's bewitched our quills to start stabbing us unless we go home."
Hermione burst into a fit of giggles, echoing around the otherwise silent Hospital Wing. Harry couldn't think of a more pleasant sound to fill the cavernous silence. It only took a moment before he fell victim to Hermione's contagious laughter.
Soon enough Harry was biting his knuckles to subdue his merriment while Hermione had buried her face in her pillow to stifle herself. Eventually the pair calmed down, and Hermione lifted her head from her pillow once she was able to quiet down.
Harry felt happiness rush through him as they locked eyes – even though black fur covered her pale cheeks, even though her chocolate-colored eyes had been replaced with yellow ones, even though her current appearance was a far-cry from what he'd seen for the past year and a half, she looked more like Hermione Granger than she had the entirety of the night.
The sheer happiness that exuded from her was something Harry could only attribute to Hermione. Her giddy smile reminded him of thousands of smiles they'd shared since they'd met. Her eyes reflected every bit of whatever emotion she was feeling, as they always had. Right now, to Harry, they looked positively ecstatic.
Part cat or not, the girl in front of him was Hermione Granger. And he was every bit as glad to be around her as he always had been in the past.
Harry didn't leave the Hospital Wing until the sun crept through the windows, casting a warm golden light on his sleeping face. He blinked his eyes open and looked to his right. Hermione was slumbering peacefully, occasionally scrunching her nose or making a small noise in her throat. Harry felt himself smiling at the sight, and his smile widened as he saw his fingers were still laced together with hers. He gave a gentle squeeze before slipping his hand away from hers, then stood to grab the Invisibility Cloak.
"Thanks for coming, Harry." He heard as he wrapped himself in the silvery fabric. He looked back to see Hermione stretching contentedly, flashing him a small smile. Even under the covers he could see her back arching.
"I'll see you later." He grinned before he disappeared from sight. On his way out, he swore he heard purring from behind him.
Chapter 20
The weeks following Hermione's sudden and unwanted transformation into a cat-humanoid hybrid were relatively tame for Harry Potter's standards. Granted, every student at Hogwarts – with the exception of Gryffindor – seemed fairly convinced that he was the Heir of Slytherin that was attacking Muggle-born students. True, he was taking extra-diligent notes in every single class in order to keep Hermione up to speed on everything while she recovered in the Hospital Wing. And yes, he did have to sneak out of Gryffindor Tower every night just to talk to Hermione – Madam Pomfrey had barred visitors from seeing her entirely. The lone exception was so Harry could drop notes off for her, but every time he barely had time to say hello before Pomfrey whisked him out into the corridor.
So, one could suppose, that the weeks entailing Hermione's hospital stay were unique, but Harry Potter had been through worse. He quite enjoyed visiting Hermione and telling her all about what Professor Binns had droned on about that day, or what they'd practiced in Charms, or how many points Snape had taken from Gryffindor. They'd stay up for hours; they'd read and write and talk and practice until Harry could barely keep his eyes open. He ended every session with a grin, telling her he'd see her later with the day's notes. And every time he walked towards the doors, she purred when she thought he was just out of earshot.
On a particularly dreary day in February, he ambled down the staircase from Gryffindor Tower. He'd slept through most of breakfast – as he'd done almost every morning since he began spending so many nighttime hours in the Hospital Wing. Several of his classmates had taken turns running food up for him from the Great Hall, a gesture he very much appreciated, and made him feel that much more included amongst his year.
"You'd do the same for us, Harry." Pavarti had grinned as she handed him a plate of bacon and toast once it had become clear he'd be oversleeping routinely. Harry could barely contain his gratitude that morning, grinning like an idiot over a few pieces of toast. Since that morning, a month and a half ago, his peers had formed an airtight schedule of who would bring him food.
'Let's see, yesterday was Seamus, before then was Dean, before him was Lavender, before her was Ron, before him was Pavarti, so today must be Neville!' He thought to himself absent-mindedly as he descended the marble staircase into the common room. He'd been too busy rubbing the sleep out of his eyes to notice that Neville was not waiting for him. He reached the bottom of the stairs and felt his heart stop when he finally surveyed his surroundings.
"Hungry?" A perfectly human Hermione Granger asked, brandishing a plate full of toast and fresh fruit towards him. Two goblets of pumpkin juice lay on a table next to her. Harry could barely move in shock. Just a few hours ago, he'd left Hermione in her hospital bed. Sure, she was significantly less furry in the face than she'd been on Christmas, but Harry assumed she'd need at least another week.
"Wha…how?" He stammered, his jaw dropping. Hermione giggled at his expression.
"I had quite the rally this morning. I still have to go in later today just to get checked up. But, I'm me now. No longer do I bear an unsettling resemblance to the cat of one Millicent Bulstrode. Even the eyes are back, see?" She asked with a giddy smile, blinking repeatedly to accentuate her chocolate-colored eyes instead of the yellow ones she'd had for nearly two months. "I bumped into Neville on my way here. He told me all about the system you guys have set up. I thought it was so sweet of them to do." She mused distractedly.
"So you're, like – you're…good?" Harry asked dumbly, still processing the fact that Hermione was out of the Hospital Wing. His brain's speed wasn't helped by the fact that he'd been awake for about ninety seconds. She rolled her eyes.
"How eloquent. Yes, Harry. I'm good." She sighed dramatically, placing the plate of breakfast food on the table. "You still haven't answered my question, though."
"Huh?"
"Hungry?" She asked, plopping down on a couch and patting the space next to her. Harry finally felt his brain match up with his body and he felt his face light up. He bounded over to the couch, eagerly sitting down next to his bushy-haired friend. Before he could dig in, however, a wall of force slammed into his right side.
"Hermione!" He coughed out, weakly patting the arms that were wrapped around his torso. "I just saw you, it's not like I'm back from a war…" He groaned. Then he felt a soft peck on his cheek, and he grinned. Within an instant, the pleasant warmth from where he'd been kissed washed over his entire body as if he'd been submerged in liquid sunlight. He turned to Hermione, hoping his expression didn't look as dazed as he felt. "What was that for?" He asked, still grinning.
"That's for coming to visit me every night." She giggled as she finally relinquished him from the hug. "Seeing my best friend was the only thing that made the Hospital Wing bearable."
"I know how you feel." Harry winked before grabbing a piece of toast.
Their peaceful breakfast concluded after a few minutes, and the pair realized they needed to change into their school robes.
"Meet down here?" Hermione asked as she polished off the last of the fruit. Harry nodded and leapt to his feet. He had just begun ascending the staircase when he heard the last noise he was expecting to hear.
"Prrr…"
He whipped his head around to see Hermione sitting on the couch, her eyes locked onto her copy of Hogwarts: A History in fascination. Harry was certain he was simply too sleep-deprived to trust his judgement, until his best friend suddenly looked up from her book and winked. He felt his eyebrows shoot up instinctively, and Hermione gave him a mischievous smile that turned his stomach inside-out before going back to her book.
The pair happily walked to Charms, and Harry and Ron couldn't help but snicker when Flitwick jumped for joy at the sight of his best student. Hermione didn't stop blushing for the rest of the class.
"So no Herbology?" Hermione asked glumly as she peered out the window of the third-floor corridor. Gryffindor had just been dismissed after a rather intense practice session regarding the Severing Charm, and now Harry and Hermione stood bored in the hallway.
"Not with the snow. We've got a free period now." Harry sighed, moving next to his best friend to watch the white powder that coated the Hogwarts grounds thicken amongst the current snowfall.
"So what should we do?" Hermione asked. "Library?" She suggested, nudging Harry's arm. He snorted.
"You spent six weeks in a bed doing nothing but reading books, and the first thing you want to do with your freedom is read some more?"
"Well, what do you suggest? I don't suppose you've got a Quidditch practice coming up?" Harry shook his head, smiling to himself.
"Wood's actually eased up lately. Even without you screaming your head off in the stands I've managed to keep us in first place for the Quidditch Cup." He sighed. "We don't play another match until May, anyway."
"Aw, poor Harry." Hermione cooed, leaning into his side. "Let me know if you start getting separation anxiety."
"Yeah, yeah, alright. Quidditch bad, books good. Did I do it right?" He grinned, looking down to see Hermione gazing up at him serenely. She flashed him a playful smile before turning back to the window.
"It's beautiful…" She sighed. Harry nodded distractedly, suddenly realizing how much Hermione was leaning her shoulder into his side. He awkwardly lifted his arm and wrapped it around her, hoping it wouldn't make her move away. His heart swelled when he heard her sigh contentedly, and he was certain his pulse was hitting dangerous levels when she leaned even closer to him. He turned to the window and watched the snowflakes drift down from the sky. For a moment, he considered standing there for the rest of their free period, possibly the rest of the year, with his arm around Hermione, his eyes locked onto the magnificent vista in front of him.
"Do you want to go out there?" She suddenly asked.
"Hmm?" Harry asked, jarred from his thoughts. "Sorry, what did you say?" He asked, trying to sound innocent. He turned back to see Hermione looking at him expectantly.
"I said," she rolled her eyes, "do you want to go outside?" Harry glanced out the window again and nodded, and she immediately beamed at him. "Let's go!" She stood up straight and stepped back suddenly. Harry watched his arm fall limply from her shoulders to his side, standing awkwardly for a moment before Hermione slipped her hand into his and began dragging him down the corridor. He felt a warm sensation travel up his arm and throughout his body as he let himself be guided towards the staircase.
The pair exited the castle and began to roam the Hogwarts grounds, still hand in hand. Harry was certain he hadn't stopped smiling like an idiot since the moment Hermione laced her fingers through his, but he didn't care. He was walking around the Hogwarts grounds with his best friend – something he hadn't had the luxury of doing for weeks. They meandered about, absorbing the gentle beauty that surrounded them. Harry was reminded of his summer walks with Hermione in Sapphire Park, and he felt his smile grow even wider. Until…
"Look who's finally out of the Hospital Wing!" A cold voice bellowed across the grounds. Harry felt every muscle in his body tense as he turned and saw the one person capable of ruining their otherwise pleasant morning striding towards him, accompanied by his two favorite gorilla-human hybrids – Crabbe and Goyle. "I was starting to think you'd been petrified too. Wishful thinking, I suppose."
"Good morning, Malfoy. I'm surprised you're out here – cockroaches can't survive in cold weather for very long." Hermione shot the Slytherin a glare icier than the frozen Great Lake behind them.
"How dare you speak to me like that?" Malfoy recoiled, his pale face flushing. He fumbled in his winter cloak for his wand, but Harry shot his hand into his pocket for his own.
"Expelliarmus!" He shouted, grinning triumphantly as the blonde's wand flew through the air into his outstretched hand. Hermione gasped, bringing both of her hands to her face in surprise.
Malfoy stood dumbfounded, his eyes flickering between his empty hand and Harry. "Give it back!" He sneered when he finally came to his senses. Harry dropped it into the snow next to him and turned on his heel, grabbing Hermione's hand and continuing on their walk is if they hadn't been rudely interrupted.
"Where did you learn to do that?" Hermione whispered once they had put a fair amount of distance between themselves and the still-flustered Slytherins. Harry just shrugged.
"I can learn some things without you doing everything for me." He winked. Hermione bristled, but smirked to herself.
"Well, in that case, maybe you can handle your studies on your own for the rest of the year."
"You're funny." Harry muttered, still grinning. Hermione chuckled to herself before they reached a snowbank adjacent to the lake.
"Should we sit?" Hermione squeezed his hand, and he nodded. She plopped down into the snow, her hand still clasped in his. Harry stood a moment longer, admiring the view he had of the castle. With the snow drifting down gently, the white-coated evergreen trees that dotted the grounds, and the frozen lake in front of them, Harry wished he could take a picture. He was about to turn back to his best friend when he felt a tug.
"Ow!" He groaned as he stumbled and face-planted next to Hermione. He heard her break into a fit of giggles, and he groaned again, much more incoherently considering his mouth was full of snow. Slowly, he rolled onto his side so he could glare at his bushy-haired friend. "You're evil." He grumbled, spitting out chunks of white powder, which only made Hermione laugh harder.
"You should have seen your face!" She wheezed. Even though his face was hot with embarrassment, Harry couldn't help but smile at Hermione's joy. He sighed and sat up next to her, and let her get the last of her giggles out.
"Are you done?" He asked in mock exasperation. Hermione nodded, still grinning at his sudden collision with the ground. "You're evil." He said again, shaking his head.
"Oh, hush." She swatted him playfully on the arm. They sat in silence for a moment before Hermione gingerly scooted closer to Harry so that their shoulders were touching. For a moment Harry thought about saying something, or even backing away. Through all of his layers of clothing he felt a jolt when his best friend's shoulder brushed his, but he shrugged it off, still marveling the castle.
"I really can't thank you enough for visiting me in the Hospital Wing, Harry." She finally said, turning to lock eyes with him. "It was probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."
"I literally fought a mountain troll for you, but okay."
"Oh, honestly!" She threw up her hands in feigned vexation. "As much as I appreciate you not letting me get murdered in the girls' bathroom, this actually means more to me. I don't really know how to describe it." She turned her head back to face the castle. "I was in that bed for six weeks, and you came every night. Maybe it was the prolonged kindness, or the fact that you never gave up or anything. I'm not sure what it is that makes it mean so much, but it does. Seeing you rip that cloak off and materialize next to me every night meant the world to me."
Harry gulped, unsure of how to respond. Truth be told, he hadn't given much thought to the concept of him visiting his best friend every night. It just felt like it was something he should do. Even when the Christmas holidays concluded and classes resumed, he hadn't hesitated in taking the most thorough notes he'd ever written for her. He didn't think twice about staying late into the night instead of getting the amount of sleep he was used to in his four-poster bed.
"You would do the same for me, right?" He asked suddenly. He blinked at his own words, not even sure where they'd come from. He turned to see Hermione nodding.
"Of course, Harry. Of course I would."
"Why?" He asked, and Hermione hitched her breath. She didn't take her eyes off the castle for a very long time, until she slowly turned to him.
"I can't really explain." She finally answered. "I just…feel like it's what I should do. Where I should be. With you." Harry saw her eyes were glistening with tears, and he gave her a small smile of encouragement.
"That's exactly why I did it."
"Still…" Her voice was now a whisper. "I don't know how to thank you."
'The kiss on the cheek was a good start…' The voice in Harry's head taunted. He wondered distractedly if jamming his wand into his ear and casting Incendio would teach his inner voice a lesson. Sighing, he turned back to Hermione.
"How about you try and not land yourself in the Hospital Wing?" He managed. "Not that I didn't enjoy reading notes with you and scratching you behind the ears from time to time." He grinned as Hermione blushed and tried to bury her face in her hands. "But seeing you in one of those beds, even if you weren't exactly injured or anything…" He sighed, feeling his stomach plummet at the thought of such horrific circumstances. "It was almost too much to bear. Too much to think about, that you were in the Hospital Wing. Especially when I couldn't be there with you."
Silence. Harry had turned his eyes back to the castle and couldn't bring himself to look at Hermione. She didn't respond for a very long time, and he began to wonder if he'd said something wrong, if he'd made her uncomfortable by spilling his heart out to her out of nowhere. He got his answer when he felt a familiar tickle of bushy brown hair on his cheek as Hermione laid her head on his shoulder.
"Harry…" It was barely a whisper, but her voice was packed with so much emotion he thought his own heart was going to burst.
"Do we have a deal?" He asked. She let out a tranquil sigh before nodding.
"But you have to at least try to do the same." She nudged him with her elbow. "I can't stand you being hurt any more than you can with me."
"Deal." He grinned. "No Quidditch until May anyway, remember?"
Hermione snickered, and they sat in content silence for a while. Every few minutes, she would inch closer to him, or burrow her face further against his shoulder. With each movement, Harry felt his heartbeat quicken and his breaths grow more and more shallow. In spite of his nerves, however, he didn't stop smiling. He carefully leaned his cheek against the top of Hermione's head, and he heard her sigh contentedly once again.
"We should probably get to lunch soon…" Hermione whispered after almost twenty minutes of comfortable silence.
"Are you hungry?"
"No, not really…"
"Yeah. Me neither."
Hermione let out a familiar sound, and Harry barely suppressed a laugh.
"I thought you said the purring was a temporary side effect." He smirked. Hermione giggled, practically nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder. Harry was certain his heart was going to explode at any moment, but he didn't care. He couldn't imagine a better place to drop dead, with this view, this weather, and this girl next to him.
Without a second thought, he dragged his gloved hand across the snow until it bumped into another glove. Gingerly, he laced his fingers with Hermione's, never taking his eyes off the castle in front of him.
It was barely noon, and Harry was certain that the rest of the day would entail all kinds of trials and tribulations. Snape was likely to try and make his life miserable during Potions. Lockhart was sure to give him tips about how to be famous in front of everyone during Defense Against the Dark Arts. And every time he stepped into a corridor, stares and whispers about being the Heir of Slytherin would follow him like his own shadow.
But as Harry sat pensively in the snow, he knew he wouldn't care. As he felt Hermione squeeze his hand affectionately, he knew it was a good day.
Chapter 21
Harry hadn't felt so at ease since before Halloween. Hermione had been out of the Hospital Wing for two weeks, and they'd easily fallen back into their past rhythm of studying hard in the library during their free time and conversing about anything and everything. There hadn't been an attack for almost two months, and although most still suspected Harry to be Slytherin's heir, he'd grown increasingly indifferent to their whispers.
Following a relatively normal Saturday morning and afternoon – including a grueling Quidditch practice at dawn that left the star Seeker particularly sore – Harry and Hermione had opted to spend their last hour before curfew studying in the library.
"You know, I overheard some Hufflepuffs this morning talking about how you have a pet snake."
"That's the new rumor?" Harry snorted, turning back to his book. "Do these people ever talk about themselves? I almost wish there were more Malfoys in the world…" He sighed, dejectedly placing his chin on the table. Hermione forcibly dropped her book onto the table and nudged Harry's foot with hers so he would meet her eyes.
"First of all, if there were more Malfoy's in the world I would move to a different planet." She stared at Harry until he cracked a small smile. "Second of all, why do you care what a bunch of random Hufflepuffs think? Anyone with half a brain knows you can't be the Heir of Slytherin, which means the only people talking about this are halfwits."
Harry shrugged and returned to reading about Swelling Solutions halfheartedly. He heard Hermione sigh before she reopened one of her many books. After a few minutes of perusing their texts, they heard footsteps from the shelves near their table. Both looked up towards the source and saw a flash of red hair. The moment Harry spotted it, it was suddenly hurrying through the stacks as if it had been caught stealing.
"Was that – "
"Ginny." Hermione sighed, staring inquisitively at where the youngest Weasley had been standing.
"Why'd she run off like that?" Harry couldn't hide his confusion. He'd barely spoken to the girl since the beginning of the year – she'd been practically despondent towards him besides blushing furiously whenever they made eye contact.
"Probably because she's your biggest fan." Harry looked back to Hermione and expected her to be smirking, but she looked disgruntled. "Have you ever noticed how she's never able to get a word out when you're in the same room?"
"Oh…" Harry sat up straight, feeling even more confused. "I honestly thought she'd just been upset about the attacks. Ron said she really likes cats, and I know she sat next to Colin Creevey in a lot of their classes. I thought she was just taking everything really hard." He finished, suddenly feeling a pang of sadness for her. Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"Well, that's very empathetic of you." She said, and Harry detected surprise in her tone. It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. "Truth be told, I hadn't thought about that at all. I just assumed she was one of those girls who thinks you're some big hero and can't see straight when you walk by." She looked like she was trying very hard to not roll her eyes.
"Does that bother you?" Harry asked, tilting his head questioningly. He absent-mindedly closed his Potions book, more interested in this conversation than anything that involved Severus Snape.
"Well, I don't like to think of you as the Boy-Who-Lived Harry Potter." Somehow, Harry's eyebrows shot up even higher. "I like to think of you as, you know, Harry." She clarified, her cheeks turning pink. "You're the boy who I met on the Hogwarts Express, who was nice and complimented my teeth and studied with me and spent time with me when nobody else would." Her voice was growing quieter as she continued. "You're a great person, Harry. Truly. And I wish people knew you for that instead of what happened to you when you were a baby."
Harry straightened in his chair, surprised at Hermione's sudden – and emotional – explanation. She averted her eyes and began mumbling something incoherent.
"You know." He said slowly.
"What?" She asked, snapping her head back up to meet Harry's eyes.
"You know who I am. And Ron, and even the rest of our year in Gryffindor know I'm not just the Boy Who Lived. I can't ask for much more than that." He gave her a small smile, and it did the trick. Hermione nodded slowly, returning with a smile of her own.
"We should head back." She said quietly. Harry nodded and they wordlessly put their books back on the shelves where they belonged and departed the library. They bade Madam Pince good-bye and strolled through the corridors back to Gryffindor Tower.
"Any luck with that diary you found?" Hermione asked as they ascended a staircase. Harry shook his head.
"It's completely blank. Just says T.M. Riddle. No entries, no nothing." He sighed.
"I just can't understand why someone would try and get rid of a perfectly fine book."
"To be fair, not everyone shares your fondness for books. In fact, I don't think anyone does." Harry joked, earning a playful elbow.
"How about I flush your copy of A Few Good Men down the toilet? Let's see how you react."
Harry clutched his bag to his chest with mock panic, earning a giggle from Hermione. "Don't even joke about that." He hissed, which only elicited more laughter from Hermione. They walked cheerfully to the Fat Lady, entering the common room to join those in their year who were still awake. Harry and Hermione helped Ron and Seamus with their Transfiguration essays before everyone decided to call it a night.
Harry woke the next morning hoping for a Sunday equally as normal and enjoyable as the day before. The moment he entered the Great Hall, he knew that would not be the case.
"What's with the pink…everything?" Harry asked sleepily as he sat down next to Hermione and across from Ron.
"It's Valentine's Day!" Hermione beamed, and Harry nodded distractedly, taking in his surroundings. The walls were adorned with ten-foot wide pink flowers, and pink heart-shaped confetti descended from the ceiling like snowflakes. Harry angrily ruffled his hair and watched half a dozen pieces of it flutter onto the table.
"They didn't do this last year, right?" Harry asked, unable to hide his displeasure. Harry didn't despise Valentine's Day, in fact he was more indifferent than anything. But the bizarre display of pink and superficiality that surrounded him rubbed him wrong the way. It seemed like the work of one…
"Lockhart." Ron grumbled through a mouth full of toast, ripping Harry away from his train of thought. He pointed towards the faculty table, a spiteful expression on his freckled face. Harry turned to see their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor wearing pink robes to match the decorations, his face lit up with a gigantic smile. Harry groaned as he stood up from his seat, holding a pile of letters.
"I'll be giving out Valentine's to brighten some of your days! Alas, I only had enough cards to save them for my top students – "
"Oh thank Merlin!" Ron snickered.
" – so stay where you are, I'll find you! Let's see…where is Percy Weasley?" He called out, and with that he began waltzing to and fro across the Great Hall, calling names and handing out letters. Harry decided he'd rather fight Slytherin's monster with his eyes closed than deal with Lockhart, so he gathered his things and made to leave.
"Where are you going?" Hermione asked worriedly. "Is something wrong? You're all pale!" She gasped, instinctively placing her hand on his forehead. Harry felt his face heat up at the sudden contact and tried to get up even faster. "Your forehead is really hot, Harry." She said worriedly.
'I wonder why…' Harry's internal voice mocked, and suddenly he was ready to blow the Great Hall to smithereens if it meant he could get out of there.
"Well it's obvious why, Hermione!" Lavender, who was next to Ron, giggled. Both Harry and Hermione cast her confused glances before Harry resumed getting ready to leave.
"Yeah, it's obvious!" Ron grinned. Lavender whipped her head towards the redhead in what Harry assumed was surprise. "This one doesn't want to deal with Lockhart!"
"Precisely." Harry nodded, picking up his bag. "Thank you, Ron. Thank you, Lavender." Harry tried to throw them both appreciative glances. Ron was snickering again, and Lavender was shaking her head. He turned to see Hermione was also getting up. "You don't have to leave – "
"I lost my appetite the moment I saw all this pink." She reassured him, giving him a sympathetic smile. "We'll see you two later?" She turned to Ron and Lavender.
"Seamus and Dean are organizing an Exploding Snap tournament this afternoon." Ron grinned. "You two better be there."
"Ah, yes, playing with fire." Hermione huffed sarcastically. "My favorite hobby."
"Hey!" Ron interjected good-naturedly. "All of our year is playing. It's a group bonding thing."
"We'll be there." Harry grinned, and Hermione rolled her eyes before the pair walked towards the doors. Before he could get lectured by his best friend about the most productive ways to spend free-time, the last thing he wanted to happen actually happened.
"Harry Potter!" An all-too-familiar voice bellowed after him. Instinctively, he froze. "Harry, my boy, I've got something for you!"
Reluctantly, he turned to see Lockhart bounding towards him. Harry suddenly felt like he'd swallowed a triple dose of Skele-Gro and fought the urge to dry-heave. Before he could come up with a pathetic excuse for being in a hurry, Hermione stepped in front of him.
"Good morning, Professor." She said pointedly, crossing her arms. "What were you saying?"
The wavy-haired professor stopped in his tracks, his unnervingly wide smile vanishing from his face. "M-Miss Granger, I – "
"What were you saying?" Her voice turned even sharper, and she stepped towards Lockhart fiercely.
"I…" He looked as if he was shrinking in on himself, backing away from the second-year. "N-nothing. Happy Valentine's Day!" He squeaked, rooted to the floor in fear.
Harry didn't think he could be more surprised at Hermione's actions. Obviously he'd heard about how she erupted at Lockhart on the Quidditch, but now she was openly intimidating a teacher. It was definitely near the bottom of the list of things he expected of the bushy-haired bookworm, right around trying out as a Chaser and vandalizing a library book.
Suddenly, Hermione jab-stepped towards Lockhart. He squeaked again before scurrying back towards the faculty table, frantically smoothing out his hair and trying very hard not to look at the snickering students he passed. Harry was certain his jaw was on the floor as Hermione turned around, sporting a look of smug casualness.
"What?" She asked nonchalantly before strolling past him, bumping him with her shoulder. Harry had to use his hand to close his mouth before turning to follow her.
"Where did that come from?" He asked as he finally caught up to Hermione. She turned to him without breaking stride, still looking particularly self-satisfied. His surprise only multiplied when she looked forward again and shrugged. "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?" He grinned, and Hermione gave a small smile of her own.
The pair roamed around the castle for a bit before deciding to venture into the library. After claiming their usual table, Harry looked to his best friend expectantly.
"Is this visit for academic or…research purposes?" He asked. Hermione raised her eyebrows, and Harry shrugged good-naturedly. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to figure out what the voice he kept hearing was. And he wanted to see if there was any more information out there about the Chamber of Secrets.
"We can research, I suppose. You've done all your homework?" She asked. Harry took a page out of his best friend's book and rolled his eyes, earning a swat on the shoulder. "Don't be a prat. Someone very smart once said that studies come before leisure." She smirked.
"That might be one of my favorite compliments you've ever given me…" Harry mused as the pair entered the shelves of the History section.
"I was talking about Nearly-Headless Nick." She shot back matter-of-factly.
"Sure." Harry grinned, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
The pair pored over dozens of books for almost two hours, and each time one of them slammed a tome shut in exasperation, they felt more and more like doing anything else. Suddenly, Hermione let her head drop onto a page of Most Macabre Monsters in exhaustion, sighing dejectedly.
"Intimidating a teacher? Getting tired of reading?" Harry tried to feign concern but felt a smile pulling up on the corner of his lips. "This is not the Hermione Granger I'm used to."
"Oh, I'm full of surprises today." Hermione muttered into her book. "Honestly, I just can't focus. I don't think I've absorbed any of what I've read in this book. Or the other ten I've opened today." She sighed, lifting her head and gingerly closing the ancient-looking text.
"I take it you want to do something else?" Harry stood, stacking the books on their table so he could return them. Hermione nodded, handing him her tome before standing and grabbing her bag. Harry strolled back to the shelves they'd perused for the past couple of hours. When he returned, he thought Hermione was looking particularly anxious. She was wringing her hands, something she usually did when she was tense, but she was doing something Harry had never seen before – biting her bottom lip. He raised an eyebrow when he reached their table.
"Nothing. I mean, what?" Hermione asked, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle.
"So…you've been acting strange." Harry observed, mockingly stroking his chin. "Are you feeling sick? Or, are you nervous about a test?" He paused, relishing Hermione's minor discomfort at his ridiculousness. "Ah, I know what ails you!" He flourished his arms dramatically, as if he were having his own Eureka moment. "You want to tell me that you're the Heir of Slytherin. Am I right?"
As apprehensive as she'd looked when he walked over, Harry saw Hermione crack a smile before shaking her head. She let out a sigh before turning to walk with him towards the doors, not saying anything.
"Seriously, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Harry asked, abandoning the playful tone from a moment ago.
"It's nothing." She answered, wringing her hands once again. "Common room?" Harry nodded wordlessly, silently wondering what had bothered Hermione enough to make her want to leave the library. The pair turned a corner into what they thought was an empty hallway – until they heard a small gasp to their left. Turning, Harry saw Ginny Weasley on a bench, sitting on her hands. She quickly ducked her head, focusing on the ground instead of making eye contact with the pair. Harry turned back to his best friend.
"I just want to see how she's doing. With…everything." He said, and Hermione nodded in understanding. She stepped back, and Harry went to move towards Ginny. Before he could even ask how she was feeling, he heard suspiciously quiet footsteps approaching.
He and Ginny both whipped their heads around to see a dwarf marching towards them, holding a scroll in front of him. Harry felt his eyebrows shoot up in a mix of surprise and confusion. The dwarf stopped when he was right in front of him, barely a foot away.
"Are you 'Arry Potter?" The dwarf barked, and Harry finally noticed that he was ornamented with fake golden wings like an angel, although they looked cheap enough to come from a Muggle store. "I said, are you 'Arry Potter?"
"Erm, yes?" Harry managed, unsure what to make of a random dwarf knowing his name while dressed like an angel.
'Or like a cupid…' His inner voice prodded.
"Oh, no, please don't tell me – "
"I've got a special Valentine's message for yeh, listen here: His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, His hair is as dark as a blackboard. I wish he was mine, he's really divine, the hero who conquered the Dark Lord!" The dwarf read in a sing-song voice, looking almost as disgruntled as Harry looked bewildered. "Bye now."
With that, the dwarf marched off in the direction from which he'd arrived, muttering something about humiliation. Harry stood dumbfounded, grateful that the hallway was empty with the exception of Hermione and Ginny. Shaking his head, he turned to Ginny, remembering his original intent. The youngest Weasley was staring at him. Her entire face had matched her hair in color, but she was looking at him expectantly. Harry cleared his throat.
"Right, sorry." He began rather articulately. "I don't know what the hell that was all about, but I just wanted to ask if – "
He didn't finish his sentence. Ginny's expression had changed entirely to something Harry could barely recognize, and somehow her cheeks turned even redder. With a squeak, she leapt off the bench, sprinting down the corridor and out of sight.
Harry stood with his mouth open, feeling totally and utterly confused. He turned to Hermione, who barely stifled a giggle at the sight of his expression. She walked over and gently nudged him.
"I think we both know how much I like to say 'I told you so,' but I won't say it this time." She sighed before turning and walking towards Gryffindor Tower. "Are you coming?" She turned back to Harry, who hadn't budged and was now feeling even more confused.
"Sorry…" He sputtered, jogging to catch up to his bushy-haired friend. "You told me so about what?" He asked as they began walking side-by-side. Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry swore she mumbled something about boys before turning back to him.
"That Valentine was clearly from her. She wanted to see how you would react." She explained as if it were the simplest concept in the world. "Now, I can't read minds, but I don't think your reaction was the one she was looking for."
Harry felt his brain gradually begin to process what Hermione had told him. "So, sneaking around us in the library, always getting flustered when I walked by…she really was just – "
"Just being a fangirl." Hermione shrugged. "Although your concern for her about how she was taking the attacks was really sweet of you. Just, you know…"
"Wrong?"
"Something like that." Hermione smirked, and Harry did the same, shaking his head in disbelief.
"You love being right, don't you?" Harry looked to see Hermione was blushing and keeping her eyes on the ground. He smiled again, and kept smiling as they walked back. "That really was the most bizarre poem I've ever heard in my life." He said after a few moments of silence.
"Me too." Hermione snickered. "I…I don't think your eyes are toad-like. I think that's actually insulting to them." Harry turned in surprise to see Hermione was blushing again.
"Well, how would you describe my eyes without insulting me?" He asked playfully. Hermione rolled her eyes, but her cheeks remained Gryffindor scarlet.
"Not toad-like." She practically squeaked.
"Good answer." Harry smirked as they reached the Fat Lady. The pair entered the common room, and Harry went to drop his bag off in his dormitory before Hermione grabbed his hand. He turned around to see Hermione's anxious expression return.
"I…I have something for you…" She whispered. Harry nodded, curious as to what could have brought on this nervousness from Hermione Granger, but he didn't say anything. Slowly, she reached into her bag and pulled out a pink envelope. She handed it to Harry, and he turned it over in his fingers a few times. "It's a Valentine."
Harry smiled appreciatively, then suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. "Sorry…" He trailed off. "Mine's in my room, it's not nearly as nice as this one…" He paused, unsure how to proceed. "Erm, I'll be right back!" He said a little louder than he intended before bolting to his dormitory.
It was true, he had made her one. On a spur-of-the-moment idea last night, he thought he would impress her with his use of the Severing Charm by cutting a heart-shape out of a scroll of parchment. It had turned out well enough, a bit jagged on one side, but it looked like a heart, so he went with it and wrote a few kind words on it. As he sprinted towards his bed he ripped one of his bedside table drawers open for an envelope. Hurriedly folding the heart and stuffing it in, he raced back down the stairs after writing a few words on the envelope.
He handed it to Hermione triumphantly, and she took it with another blush. She turned it over to read what he'd written.
"The Brightest Witch of Our Age?" She gasped, and her cheeks turned even redder.
"Well…yeah." Harry said awkwardly, before cracking a mischievous smile. "Easier to spell than 'Hermione'"
She swatted him on the shoulder, but flashed an appreciative smile. She carefully opened the envelope and unfolded the heart. Harry suddenly realized how stupid it looked and averted his eyes.
"I'm sorry…I thought using the Severing Charm to make a heart would…impress you, I guess? I don't know. It looks rubbish, I'm sorry, it just – "
"Harry, it's perfect!" She beamed, throwing her arms around him. Harry coughed a few times as his best friend squeezed him tight enough to knock the wind out of him. "Thank you, Harry."
"Of course." He managed to gasp out. Hermione stepped back and looked at him expectantly. After a few seconds of confused silence it hit him.
"Oh, right!" He blurted. "Um, I…am going to go read yours right now. I'll be right back!" He stammered uncertainly, and ran back up to his dormitory, where he'd dropped the letter along with his belongings in a hurry.
When he reached his dormitory, however, he saw Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville crowding around his bed.
"What are you doing with my stuff?" Harry asked irritably, and his roommates whipped around in surprise.
"Why do you have a trick journal?" Seamus asked, holding up Riddle's diary.
"A what?"
"The diary. The ink doesn't stay on it."
"First of all, it's not my diary – "
"Harry, that just makes it weirder." Dean cut in. Harry spluttered something incoherent, but managed to take a deep breath.
"Look, I found the diary in…" He paused, realizing if his friend's thought it was weird enough to have a diary that wasn't his own, he shouldn't reveal he'd been in the girls' bathroom when he found it. "It was just on the ground, like someone wanted to get rid of it. It seemed weird that it was empty. I've been trying to figure out who it belongs to."
"Did you never notice how the ink doesn't stay on it?" Neville asked. Harry noticed he was eyeing the diary nervously.
"No…" Harry whispered, wondering what that meant. "How did you find out anyway? Were you writing in a diary that wasn't yours?"
"It's not yours either…" Ron snickered.
"That's not the point!" Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Were you writing in it?"
"Oh, no. Neville tripped and spilled an ink bottle all over your bed." Seamus grinned. The four boys parted and Harry saw his sheets were stained purple.
"I'm sorry, Harry, it's just – " Neville started, but Harry held up a hand.
"I'm sure there's some spell we can use, don't worry." Harry muttered, now more curious about the diary than he'd ever been.
"Half your things are purple, but this was on the top of the pile untouched." Seamus shrugged, tossing the diary to Harry. He caught it and flipped through the pages curiously. Each one was as blank as it had been when he'd found it.
"Weird…" He whispered to himself.
"Well, we're going down for that Exploding Snap tournament. You coming?" Ron grinned. Harry glanced up from the diary.
"Um…I'll be down in a bit. I want to figure out what's up with this." He turned back to the book.
"Alright." Ron sighed as he and the other three boys began walking out of the dormitory. "But I'm telling everyone you holed yourself in your room to write about your feelings." He smirked, giving Harry a playful shove on his way out. Harry cracked a smile but didn't take his eyes off the diary.
When he was alone, he grabbed a quill and began writing in the book. His curiosity – and fascination – grew exponentially. He remained laser-focused on the diary for the rest of the afternoon, not even joining his peers in the Great Hall for lunch.
In his captivated state, he completely forgot about the pink envelope that he'd hurriedly dropped in his bedside table drawer.