Chapter 39: Cupcakes
Chapter Text
GILDEROY LOCKHART FOUND DEAD AT HOGWARTS
Hermione's fingers trembled slightly as she clutched the crinkling edges of the Daily Prophet. Her wide, intelligent eyes scanned the headline over and over again, as though trying to make sense of the words glaring back at her in bold, accusing letters.
The accompanying article was no less grim. It detailed how the staff at Hogwarts had discovered the former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's body early in the morning, slumped and mangled inside his private quarters. The description was enough to send a chill through Hermione's spine—deep claw marks shredded his once-flamboyant robes, and his lifeless expression was frozen in terror. It was as if a werewolf had torn through him, yet the report made it clear there was no evidence of a werewolf attack.
The oddities didn't stop there. Lockhart's body bore traces of basic stasis charms—the kind commonly used to preserve food—ensuring it remained fresh, almost as if the murderer had intended for him to be found this way. Beside the body was a single eagle-feather quill, laid deliberately atop his chest like a macabre calling card.
Hermione frowned deeply as she re-read the article for the third time. The details were sparse, leaving behind more questions than answers. Aurors had already launched an investigation, and Sirius Black himself had been dispatched to uncover the truth. Hermione's chest tightened as she thought of Sirius, his face lined with exhaustion, throwing himself headfirst into another grueling case. He'd barely slept these past few days, and now this...
Hermione let out a slow breath and folded the newspaper, her fingers smoothing out the creases before setting it down on the polished table. She turned to look at her mother.
Emma Granger's tea sat forgotten, the liquid long gone cold, while she paced the living room in tight, agitated circles. The faint sound of her heels clicking against the hardwood floor filled the room, underscoring the tension. Her usually composed demeanor was gone, replaced by a taut expression that betrayed her growing anxiety.
Hermione could practically hear the thoughts racing through her mother's mind, the unspoken fears clinging to the air like static. Emma Granger had always been a person of logic and reason, but this—a brutal murder at the very school where her daughter studied—was enough to unravel even Emma's calm.
"Mum, Lockhart wasn't killed at Hogwarts," Hermione said, her voice firm but not unkind. "The article only says that his body was found there. There's no evidence that he died on school grounds."
Emma stopped mid-step and turned to face her daughter, her eyes dark with worry. "Someone was still killed, Hermione. Mangled, even! What is it they're saying? That a werewolf did this?"
Hermione rolled her eyes despite the knot in her stomach. "That's impossible," she countered, her tone laced with the crisp logic she relied on to steady herself. "The last full moon was two weeks ago. Whoever—or whatever—did this, it wasn't a werewolf. Please, Mum, calm down. You're making me nervous too."
Emma's shoulders slumped, her breath coming out in a shaky sigh. "You have every right to be nervous, sweetheart. The idea of sending you back to that school after this... I don't know how I'm supposed to feel."
Hermione swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "I still have a day left before I have to return," she said softly. Her voice faltered, but she pressed on. "I'm more worried about Harry. He—"
Emma's brow furrowed, her concern shifting, as Hermione knew it would. "How is Harry?" she asked, cutting in. "Is he holding up well? And what about the others—Ron, Draco, and the girls? Are they all safe?"
The questions poured out in quick succession, Emma's voice rising slightly in pitch. Hermione allowed a small smile to flicker across her face, grateful for the distraction.
Fortunately, changing the subject back to Harry distracted her mother, as it always did. After her incident, Emma had grown to be fascinated with Harry—his resilience, his kindness, his ability to carry burdens far heavier than most children his age should ever face. She adored him in a way that felt almost maternal, her protectiveness evident in the way she asked about his well-being as if he were her own son.
If it had been anyone else, Hermione might have felt a pang of jealousy at how quickly her mother's affection had shifted focus. But this was Harry. She loved him too much to feel anything but warmth at her mother's fondness for him. Harry wasn't just her best friend and boyfriend; he was the kind of person who could walk into her world and instantly belong.
Hermione often found herself wanting to share everything with him—her thoughts, her books, even the quiet moments she usually kept for herself. There was an ease to their friendship that made her feel as though Harry had always been a part of her life, and she wouldn't hesitate to offer him any piece of her world if it meant keeping him close.
The two Grangers settled into quiet conversation, their voices low as they discussed the latest happenings at Hogwarts. Hermione's words were measured, carefully chosen to keep her mother from worrying further, though her own thoughts lingered on the dark mystery surrounding Lockhart's death.
As they talked, Dobby appeared with a soft pop, his large eyes wide and attentive. The house-elf quickly reheated the tea, his delicate hands working with practiced precision, and arranged a fresh platter of biscuits on the table.
"Thank you, Dobby," Hermione said quietly, offering the elf a small, grateful smile.
Dobby nodded eagerly, his ears flapping as he retreated to the kitchen.
xxxxx
Harry, Ron, Draco, Luna, Susan Bones, the rest of the Weasley kids, and the Greengrass sisters lounged around the sunlit courtyard, a nervous tension lingering in the air. The normally lively group had subdued chatter, their conversations punctuated by the occasional rustle of leaves. The looming interviews with the Aurors cast a shadow over what could have otherwise been a casual afternoon.
The castle's latest catastrophe had shaken everyone. Following the incident, the Ministry mandated that every person in Hogwarts be interviewed. The students had expected to be sorted by House for these sessions, as usual. But Sirius Black had pulled a few strings. He ensured that the group of students he watched over, along with a few others he deemed important, would be questioned together. His decision provided some comfort—at least they weren't alone.
Sirius had promised he would only observe and not interfere. Even so, his presence, looming in the background, was a reassuring safety net.
Ron and Draco, normally full of quips and teasing, kept their voices low as they sat together. Their laughter was muted, their usual bravado tempered by the somber mood hanging over Harry. The two boys would typically have teased him endlessly about the way Luna had fussed over him during lunch. It had been a sight to behold—her ethereal calm giving way to a steely determination as she piled his plate high with vegetables, fruits, and juice, her tone unyielding as she urged him to finish every bite. Harry had grudgingly complied, though his expression screamed protest.
But now, with Harry sitting a short distance away, they refrained from making any jokes. His mood was too heavy for that.
Harry hadn't explained much to them about what happened to Lockhart. All he had said was that it was over. Done. And he didn't want to discuss it again, not during the investigations or after. His words had been final, but it was the forced smile on his face—the practiced mask of someone used to being in the public eye—that unnerved his friends the most.
Ron glanced at Draco, his voice barely a whisper. "You think he'll get over it?"
Draco frowned, his pale brow furrowing as he leaned closer. "Maybe. This isn't his first time, you know… taking care of a dark wizard." He sighed, casting a glance toward Harry. "I just wish Hermione were here. She always knows how to calm him down—or at least distract him. Luna's trying, but…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward Luna.
Ron chuckled under his breath. "That's just Luna. It's her way of helping. When I got detention last term, she did the same thing—practically force-fed me at dinner, going on about how everything was going to be fine."
Draco's lips twitched in amusement. "That's… something."
"Yeah," Ron shrugged, "though it's the first time I've ever felt too full to move."
Their eyes drifted toward Luna, who sat next to Harry with a sugar quill dangling from her fingers, her dreamy expression serene as if she were entirely unaware of the underlying tension in the group.
Harry, meanwhile, was engrossed in a quiet conversation with Susan and Ginny. His posture was relaxed enough to fool anyone who didn't know him well, but Ron and Draco could see the tightness in his jaw, the occasional flicker of his fingers as if restless energy was barely contained.
Nearby, the Greengrass sisters were deep in their own conversation, their heads close together as they exchanged quiet words. For a fleeting moment, the group of students looked like nothing more than a cluster of ordinary schoolkids enjoying a break outside. It was almost easy to forget the weight pressing down on them.
"Hey, kids, let's go."
Sirius Black's deep voice cut through the relative quiet, drawing all eyes to him. He approached the group with long, confident strides, flanked by two female Aurors in crisp robes. Sirius himself wore an impeccably tailored black suit beneath his deep red Auror robes, though his unshaven jaw and faintly shadowed eyes betrayed his lack of rest. Despite his exhaustion, there was a commanding presence about him—a steadiness that made everyone instinctively feel safer.
Harry stood up first, his expression brightening slightly at the sight of his godfather. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Sirius in a brief hug. Sirius returned it with a grin, resting a hand on Harry's shoulder as they began walking toward the castle.
"How've you been holding up, kid?" Sirius asked, his voice low and warm.
Harry offered a faint smile, his tone light as he replied, but Ron and Draco noticed the tension in his step. The rest of the group trailed behind them, the muted sounds of their footsteps blending with the rustle of leaves and distant chatter from other students in the courtyard.
xxxxx
The two female Aurors, each with a calm yet commanding presence honed by years of dealing with children and teenagers, took charge of the questioning. Their voices carried a reassuring tone, soft enough to put the kids at ease but firm enough to extract answers when needed. They had once been mothers to Hogwarts students themselves, a detail that made them the best choice for handling a group of nervous children. Sirius Black stood behind them, a silent but imposing figure. His arms were crossed, his piercing gaze flickering between the children and the Aurors. Despite his stoic exterior, it was clear that Sirius was listening intently to every word.
The questioning stretched on for what felt like hours, though it was closer to two. Each child answered truthfully, recounting their whereabouts during the incident, their actions, and even their thoughts. Harry, Draco, Ron, and Luna spoke in measured tones, careful not to leave out any details. When it was time to inspect their wands, they handed them over with only a slight hesitation—except for Luna, who handed hers over with a serene smile as though she were lending out a prized possession for safekeeping.
The Aurors muttered incantations, checking the last several spells cast. A wave of relief washed over the room as they found nothing but harmless spells for classes—Levitation Charms, Summoning Spells, and a smattering of cleaning and light hexes. All clean. The Aurors exchanged satisfied glances and nodded, confirming there was no evidence of wrongdoing.
Sirius let out a long, audible sigh of relief. He had been confident that the kids he was responsible for had done nothing reckless, but seeing concrete proof eased the tension in his shoulders. His posture relaxed slightly, and his lips curled into a small, relieved smile. "Well, that's a weight off," he muttered, half to himself.
As the female Aurors packed up their notes and left to regroup with their colleagues, Sirius lingered with Harry, Draco, Ron, and Luna. The group felt smaller now, quieter. The absence of the official scrutiny left an odd void, filled only by the faint buzz of magic lingering in the room.
"Merlin, I can't take this anymore," Sirius said suddenly, breaking the silence with an exaggerated groan. He ran a hand through his hair, which was neatly tied back but still gave him a slightly disheveled appearance. "I haven't had a proper night's sleep in a week! Thank the gods Lockhart was found and dealt with, but honestly, I wish I could've gotten one good punch in first."
Ron and Draco exchanged nervous, slightly awkward laughs, clearly unsure how to respond. Luna, ever perceptive to moods, noticed the way Harry's expression darkened slightly at the mention of Lockhart. She tilted her head, her wide, silvery-blue eyes thoughtful, before gently steering the conversation elsewhere.
"How's Hermione?" Luna asked softly, her voice lilting with curiosity.
Sirius perked up at the question. His tired face brightened, and a sly grin stretched across his features. "Oh, she's fine," he said, walking toward the door with an almost theatrical air of mystery. "Better than fine, actually."
Before anyone could ask what he meant, Sirius threw open the door, revealing Hermione standing just outside. Her face was a mix of emotions—tears welled in her eyes, but her smile was wide and radiant. She barely had time to step inside before she was tackled by the group.
"Hermione!" Harry's voice was louder than usual, filled with a raw relief that caught everyone off guard. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an almost crushing hug. The others followed suit, though their embraces were much briefer, giving Hermione and Harry space.
For Sirius, watching the scene unfold brought a sense of satisfaction he hadn't felt all week. When he'd first seen Harry during the investigation, the boy had looked as though he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Now, that dark cloud seemed to lift, even if only slightly. Sirius leaned casually against the doorframe, grinning at the sight of the two kids clinging to one another like they hadn't seen each other in years.
Harry buried his face in Hermione's hair, his breath hitching slightly as he fought back tears. Hermione laughed softly, the sound like a balm to his frayed nerves. "Harry," she giggled, "you're holding on like I'll disappear any second."
Despite her teasing tone, she didn't pull away. She felt a wave of comfort in his tight embrace, something she hadn't realized she needed until now.
"Your ears are gone," Luna said matter-of-factly, her gentle hands brushing Hermione's hair as though to confirm the absence. Ron mimicked her motion, his face a mix of amazement and mild embarrassment. Hermione chuckled at their antics.
"Completely gone," Hermione confirmed. Her smile grew playful as she added, "And no, Draco, the tail's gone too, so stop staring at my skirt."
Draco raised his hands in mock surrender, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips. "Just making sure," he said, feigning innocence.
Hermione rolled her eyes before holding up her hands. "Well, not all of it's gone," she admitted, her grin turning almost wicked. With a quick flex of her fingers, her nails elongated into sharp, gleaming claws. The effect was startling, and it sent Ron stumbling back with a startled yelp. Draco took an instinctive step away, though he tried to mask it with a nonchalant cough. Luna, on the other hand, looked on with fascination.
"That's... incredible," Luna murmured, reaching out curiously.
"Don't touch," Hermione warned with a laugh, retracting the claws before Luna could get too close. "They're sharper than they look."
Luna pouted slightly but nodded, clearly saving her questions for later. Hermione knew the onslaught of inquiries was inevitable.
Meanwhile, Harry still hadn't let go. His silence was noticeable now, a stark contrast to the usual way he teased and joked with Hermione. Sirius, sensing the need for privacy, sighed and gestured for the others to leave. "Alright, kids, give them a moment. Let's go."
Draco, Ron, and Luna shuffled out reluctantly, throwing curious glances over their shoulders. Once the door clicked shut, Hermione gently pulled back, only to freeze when she saw Harry's face. Tears streaked his cheeks, his green eyes glistening with emotion. For a moment, she was speechless.
xxxxx
Hermione panicked. The sight of Harry breaking down before her was the last thing she had expected. She had anticipated his usual bone-crushing hugs and the stubborn determination he always wore like armor. But the tears streaming down his face? That was entirely new and utterly heart-wrenching.
"Harry? What's wrong?" she whispered softly, her voice barely carrying across the quiet of the unused classroom. Gently, she cupped his face, her thumbs brushing away the tears that trailed down his cheeks. "Are you alright?"
Harry let out a brief, shaky chuckle, the sound a mixture of relief and lingering tension. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice cracking. "I was just... holding it all in. Trying to act tough and calm after... after that bastard, but now seeing you here, it... it just came flooding out."
Hermione's heart twisted painfully at his words. She knew Harry well—too well to think he'd ever allow himself to crumble like this unless the weight he carried was unbearable. She offered him a small, reassuring smile and leaned in, placing a featherlight kiss on his tear-streaked cheek.
"Do you want to talk about it now?" she asked, her voice as soothing as she could make it, though worry lingered behind her steady tone.
Harry shook his head, his messy black hair brushing against her temple as he did. "No," he replied, his lips curving into a weak but genuine smile. "I just need you here in my arms. Just... stay here with me. Don't leave my side again, please."
Hermione couldn't help but let out a soft laugh at the earnestness in his voice, though her own chest felt tight with emotion. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him just as tightly as he clung to her. Her fingers instinctively moved to rub gentle circles along his back, while the other hand combed through the wild tangle of his hair.
"Did you grow taller?" she asked after a moment, breaking the silence with a teasing grin. Her tone was light, an attempt to ease the heaviness of the moment.
"I guess?" Harry shrugged, clearly unbothered by the shift in conversation. His posture relaxed slightly, though he still leaned down to rest his face on her shoulder, finding comfort in the closeness.
Hermione tilted her head, inspecting his hair with a critical eye. "Your hair got longer too," she remarked, her voice playful but tinged with affection. "Do you want me to cut it?"
"Sure," Harry said with a shrug, his words devoid of the usual banter that accompanied her teasing.
Hermione smirked, deciding to push her luck. "I don't have money left. Can you give me a thousand Galleons?"
"Yeah," Harry replied instantly, his voice utterly serious. "I can send an owl to Gringotts."
Hermione blinked at his nonchalant response before a mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. "Can I have your broom? I want to try flying."
"Okay," Harry said, the faintest trace of amusement creeping into his tone.
"Can I have Potter Manor to myself?" she pressed, her smirk widening.
"Anything you want," Harry said without hesitation, his lips quirking into the smallest of smirks.
For a moment, Hermione stared at him, caught between exasperation and amusement. Then, she let out a laugh—a loud, genuine laugh that echoed warmly around the empty room. The absurdity of her questions, coupled with Harry's unwavering willingness to grant her every outlandish request, was too much to keep a straight face.
Harry, too, allowed himself a small chuckle, though his smile held an edge of something deeper—something unspoken. The absurd questions didn't matter to him. He would give her anything, no matter how impossible or ridiculous, if it meant keeping her safe and happy. After all, he had just killed a man—no, a monster—that had dared to threaten her life. He had ripped him apart in his wolf form, letting instinct and rage take over.
If Hermione wanted the moon itself, he would find a way to bring it to her.
As long as she stayed next to him forever.
xxxxx
"Harry? Hermion—OH MERLIN, STOP IT, YOU TWO!"
Sirius Black's voice cut through the quiet hum of the unused classroom like a whip. The door creaked open to reveal him standing there, his face a comical mix of mock disapproval and exaggerated horror. His sharp bark of dismay startled Harry and Hermione enough that they immediately broke apart, stepping back from each other in clear embarrassment. Both their faces were flushed crimson, their breaths uneven as they tried to collect themselves.
Hermione looked utterly mortified, her hands nervously smoothing down her robes, while Harry scratched the back of his neck, his eyes darting toward the floor as though it might swallow him whole.
"Is this what you two are up to here at Hogwarts?" Sirius demanded, his voice dripping with faux outrage. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, shaking his head in exaggerated disappointment. "Is that why I have to drop by the house to pick you up, Hermione? So you can snog with my darling godson when you arrive here?"
Behind Sirius, Ron, Draco, and Luna peeked into the room, their faces alight with amusement. Draco had a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his face, while Ron looked as though he were moments away from bursting into laughter. Luna, as usual, seemed more intrigued than anything else, her bright eyes flicking between Harry and Hermione with quiet curiosity.
"Shut up," Harry mumbled, his ears burning. Refusing to rise to Sirius's bait, he reached out and grabbed Hermione's hand, interlacing their fingers as naturally as breathing. "Let's go. Bye, Sirius. See you at home."
Sirius gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if Harry's words had physically wounded him. "Without even a hug? You hurt me, Harry!" he hollered after them, his voice echoing down the corridor as Harry and Hermione hurried out of the classroom, their friends trailing behind. Sirius's manic grin widened as he watched them leave, clearly savoring their embarrassment.
As soon as they turned the corner, Hermione huffed, her cheeks still warm with residual shame. She muttered under her breath, "One day, I'll neuter that old man while he's in his dog form."
At that, Luna let out a melodic giggle, clapping her hands together in delight, while Ron and Draco both recoiled in simultaneous horror.
"Don't even say that! Are you crazy?" Ron exclaimed, his voice an octave higher than usual. "I'll never trust you around while I'm in my fox form!"
Hermione rolled her eyes, giving him a withering look. "Please, Ronald. I'd just need to give you a cupcake dosed with a sleeping potion, and you wouldn't even know what hit you."
Ron narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I'll never trust you with food again!"
Hermione smirked, clearly amused by his paranoia. Without a word, she stopped walking and pulled out a small box from her bag. It was an ordinary-looking box, slightly battered from being carried around all day, but when she opened it, the contents were anything but ordinary. Inside sat an assortment of cupcakes, each one meticulously frosted with swirls of blue and pink icing, glittering with rainbow sprinkles.
The sight of them made Harry's mouth water—they looked delicious, the kind of treat that could make anyone forget their troubles for a moment. Beside him, Luna's eyes sparkled with excitement, her gaze fixated on the cupcakes as though they were tiny treasures.
Hermione lifted the box toward them with a saccharine smile. "Care for a cupcake?" she offered, her voice dripping with sweetness.
Before anyone could protest, Luna reached out and plucked one from the box, biting into it with unrestrained glee.
"Luna, no!" Ron yelped, lunging forward as if to stop her, but it was already too late.
Everyone froze, their breaths caught in their throats, watching Luna intently for any sign of... something. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, she simply smiled, chewing happily as though nothing could be more ordinary.
"See?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing. "They're perfectly fine."
Draco let out a relieved laugh, slapping Ron on the back. "Can I just say that I sorely missed you, Granger?" he drawled, grabbing a cupcake for himself and biting into it without a second thought.
Ron, perhaps unwilling to let Draco get one over on him, snatched a cupcake and devoured it in two large bites. "Not bad," he muttered through a mouthful of crumbs.
Hermione's eyes flicked to Harry, her expression the picture of innocence. She held out a cupcake to him with a sweet smile. "Won't you have one, Harry?"
Harry eyed her carefully, a knowing glint in his gaze. "Please," he said, smirking. "I know what those cupcakes are. That's Sirius's recipe. I assume one of these is laced with something, right?"
Ron, Draco, and Luna froze mid-bite, their eyes widening in horror. As if on cue, they all dropped their half-eaten cupcakes onto the floor as though they had been burned.
"You poisoned me!" Draco hissed, his face going pale.
Hermione laughed, but the sound was strained. "Oh, relax! I just asked Sirius to help me prank all of you. There actually isn't anyth—" Her voice trailed off as she noticed Luna swaying slightly, her face turning an alarming shade of green.
Draco clutched his stomach, his expression one of dawning panic. "I don't feel so good," he muttered, holding a hand to his mouth.
Ron didn't even try to hide his reaction; he bolted down the corridor, gagging loudly as he went.
Hermione stared at them in horror. "Oh crap," she muttered under her breath.
Harry let out a weary sigh, moving quickly to guide Luna to the floor before she could collapse. He knelt beside her, his arm steadying her as he cast Hermione a pointed look. "He laced them all, didn't he?" he asked, his tone exasperated but not unkind. "Honestly? Trusting Sirius with a prank? Come on, Hermione."
Hermione bit her lip, guilt flashing across her face. "I was bored!" she admitted defensively. Her eyes flicked to the box of cupcakes still sitting on the floor. With a look of utter disgust, she kicked it aside, leaving it for the next unfortunate soul to discover.
xxxxx
After the cupcake prank fiasco, the aftermath was both comical and chaotic. Luna had spent nearly the entire half-hour admiring her green-tinted skin in every reflective surface she could find, her silver-gray eyes sparkling with delight as she declared it a "beautiful shade of moss." Ron, on the other hand, had huffed and puffed in a fit of exaggerated fury, stomping around with a face as red as a freshly plucked tomato. Hermione thought he looked no different than usual when he was upset, and frankly, she couldn't take him seriously when his hair clashed so vibrantly with his new complexion.
Draco, meanwhile, had been a walking beacon of bright yellow irritation. He stomped off to the Slytherin common room, after turning back to normal, muttering loudly about never trusting food again—particularly if Hermione Granger had anything to do with it. Harry, amused but exasperated, had apologized profusely to Madam Pomfrey, who had fussed over the trio before finally reversing the prank effects.
As the colors faded back to normal, Hermione couldn't help but let a smile play on her lips. It was, admittedly, a harmless prank in the end, and the image of her friends in such absurd hues was sure to stay with her for a long time. Luna, ever the eccentric, had been genuinely disappointed when her green skin was gone, wistfully lamenting the "loss of an aesthetic opportunity."
By the time Hermione arrived back in the Gryffindor common room, her mood had lifted significantly. The familiar warmth of the space greeted her—a cozy fire crackling in the hearth, its golden glow illuminating the scarlet and gold furnishings. The hum of chatter filled the air, with students scattered in small groups working on homework or playing Exploding Snap. She pushed open the portrait hole with a bit more energy than usual, eager to see familiar faces.
Almost immediately, she was flanked by her dormmates and several members of the Quidditch team, who seemed to have been waiting for her return. Her dormmates surrounded her with concern, their curiosity barely veiled as they asked what had kept her away for so long.
Hermione quickly launched into the well-rehearsed story she had prepared. "Oh, it was my mum," she explained with a practiced air of nonchalance. "She's been unwell, and since it's just the two of us at home, I had to take some time to help her out. Hogwarts approved a tutor for me while I was away, so I'm not too behind." She hated lying, but the truth was too complicated to share.
Her dormmates nodded sympathetically, offering polite well-wishes for her mother's recovery before dispersing, satisfied with her explanation. The Quidditch team, however, had no such interest in decorum. Oliver Wood clapped her on the shoulder, grinning broadly.
"Good to have you back, Granger. You've been sorely missed on the benches," he teased, then turned to Harry with a wink. "Potter's been a wreck without you—making mistakes at pracice left and right, like he's trying to impress thin air."
Fred and George were next, sweeping Hermione into an exaggerated group hug and presenting her with a handful of candies as a "welcome back" gift. Hermione pocketed the sweets with a polite smile but couldn't resist pulling out two cupcakes from the box she'd salvaged earlier.
"Here, have these," she offered casually, though her hand froze midair when she saw the twins already moving to pass them off to a group of unsuspecting first-years.
"Wait!" she yelped, diving forward and snatching the cupcakes back just in time. With a quick flick of her wand, she hurled the potentially tampered treats into the fireplace. The flames roared into vibrant shades of violet and pink, drawing a collective gasp from the room.
Fred clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. "Tsk, tsk, Granger," he said, shaking his head with a grin.
"Far too young to be pulling one over on us, little miss," George added, wagging a finger at her.
Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring their banter as she grabbed Harry and Ron by their sleeves and dragged them toward a quieter corner of the room. Luna, who had followed them in, shot Hermione a dreamy smile before disappearing up the staircase to the girls' dormitories.
Settling into the corner, Hermione turned her bright, eager gaze on Harry and Ron. "So," she began, wrapping her arm around Harry's, "how have you two been? Did anything exciting happen while I was gone?"
Ron shrugged, smirking. "Same old, same old. Thanks for the notes, by the way—they were a lifesaver while we were reviewing." His tone was casual, but there was a sly glint in his eyes as he glanced at Harry.
Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Yeah, about that…" he started, shifting uncomfortably.
Hermione's smile faltered. "What is it?" she asked, glancing between them. Both boys wore expressions that straddled the line between mischief and unease, though Harry's leaned more toward the latter.
"Well," Harry began carefully, placing his hands on her shoulders, "before you freak out, just remember that we only found out this morning. Okay?"
Hermione's brow furrowed, her heart beginning to race. "What happened?" she demanded. "Is someone hurt? Did something bad happen?"
Harry sighed again, exchanging a look with Ron before finally blurting it out. "Dumbledore announced that exams are canceled for this year."
For a moment, there was only silence. Then, Hermione's face twisted into an expression of pure, incredulous rage.
"WHAT?!" she shrieked, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
Harry winced at the volume, quickly fishing a Galleon out of his pocket and handing it over to Ron, who was now doubled over in laughter.
xxxxx
Hermione had probably spent a good two hours ranting about the unfairness and absurdity of exams being canceled. Her indignation had carried on through the afternoon and well into dinner, her tone shifting between scholarly frustration and outright disbelief at what she clearly considered a catastrophic setback to their academic progress. Her hands gestured animatedly as she spoke, emphasizing every point about the importance of consistent assessments and how the decision would affect the structure of their education.
Harry sat across from her, his plate piled high with roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and an assortment of side dishes he'd barely touched. His gaze was fixed on his food, more as an attempt to avoid getting dragged into Hermione's rant than out of actual interest in eating. It didn't help that Hermione had taken it upon herself to ensure his plate was "balanced," piling on vegetables and fruits whenever she noticed a gap. As if that wasn't enough, Luna, sitting beside Hermione with her usual dreamy expression, had taken the opportunity to sneak even more fruit onto Harry's plate whenever he wasn't looking. A sly smile played on her lips every time she successfully deposited another piece of pineapple or melon.
Ron, meanwhile, had long tuned out Hermione's ranting. His shoulders were slouched in the relaxed way that only came from someone who had accepted the situation for what it was—a golden opportunity to lounge around. He had propped up a copy of Quidditch Weekly against a jug of pumpkin juice and was leafing through its pages with an air of complete indifference to the academic chaos Hermione was describing. Occasionally, he would snort in amusement at something he read, further aggravating Hermione, though she was too engrossed in her tirade to pay him much attention.
By the time dessert was served, Hermione's focus had shifted, distracted at last by the prospect of next year's classes. She crossed her arms and leaned forward, a determined glint in her eyes as she declared, "That's it, I'm taking all of them. I've been away far too long, and I'll make sure to start next year with a fresh start, fully prepared for every new class Hogwarts has to offer."
Ron glanced up from his magazine, his expression a mixture of disbelief and amusement, but he chose not to argue. Instead, he shrugged and said casually, "I'm planning on taking Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. We're only required to choose two extra classes, anyway. No point in overcomplicating things."
Hermione looked ready to launch into an impassioned debate about the merits of taking as many electives as possible, but her attention shifted to Harry instead. Her tone softened, though the intensity in her gaze remained. "How about you, Harry? Have you thought about what you'll take?"
Harry shrugged, his fork lazily spearing a piece of carrot on his plate. "I'm still not sure, to be honest. Muggle Studies seems kind of pointless since I already have you, Hermione," he said with a small grin, earning an approving smile from her. "I don't think I have the 'Inner Eye' or whatever Divination requires, and honestly, that professor gives me the creeps. I guess I might go for the same ones as Ron—Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. But I'm thinking about Arithmancy, too. I just haven't read enough about it yet to decide. I'll probably grab a few books on it the next time I'm in the library at home."
Hermione's face lit up, her earlier frustration forgotten in the glow of Harry's curiosity. "Oh, I've already got some books on Arithmancy at home! The library reopened recently, and I made sure to look around for a few books to read. I pulled some that I thought you might find interesting. We can read them together if you'd like."
Harry's smile widened. "Really? That's fantastic! I'm sure Emma's thrilled to have the library up and running again."
"She is," Hermione replied, a hint of pride in her voice. "And I know you'll love the selection I've put aside. I can't wait to show you."
While the conversation flowed between the two, Luna remained quiet, her dreamy expression unchanging as she listened. Her silver eyes flitted between Harry and Hermione, noting the way Hermione's cheeks seemed to glow faintly as she spoke, her enthusiasm clearly fueled by Harry's interest. Luna had a fleeting thought about how Hermione might handle the impossibility of taking all the electives, especially if scheduling conflicts arose, but she chose not to mention it. It wasn't the time to burst Hermione's bubble.
Instead, Luna focused her efforts on her self-appointed mission of ensuring Harry consumed a reasonable amount of fruit. Her hand moved deftly, dropping another slice of pineapple onto his plate while he was too absorbed in conversation to notice. She leaned back with a satisfied smile, pleased with her stealthy success.
Harry, oblivious to the growing pile of fruit on his plate, continued discussing electives with Hermione, their conversation peppered with occasional laughter and nods of agreement. The Great Hall buzzed around them with the chatter and clatter of other students enjoying their meal, but in that little corner of the Gryffindor table, it felt like their own world—a world where exams, schedules, and the weight of magical education momentarily faded into the background.
Chapter 40: Runes
Chapter Text
Hermione Granger couldn't suppress the fit of giggles bubbling out of her as she leaned back on the soft, warm bedding. The Gryffindor dormitory was quiet for now, and the heavy velvet curtains of Harry's bed had been drawn closed, their enchanted privacy charms ensuring they wouldn't be overheard. She had taken the precaution herself, knowing Harry's penchant for forgetting small details in his excitement. The thought made her smile.
Earlier, Harry had been trailing her so closely through the common room, it was as if he were tethered to her by an invisible string. He'd stubbornly followed her all the way to the base of the girls' dormitory staircase before Percy Weasley intervened, huffing about rules and decorum. Harry had grumbled all the way back to his own dorm, throwing a rather theatrical glare over his shoulder at Percy.
Not long after, Luna had popped up in the second-year dormitory, casually clutching Harry's Invisibility Cloak as though it were just another accessory. That girl truly moved in her own orbit. Hermione could only laugh as Luna handed it to her without a word, a faintly dreamy expression on her face, before drifting off. That was all the encouragement Hermione needed. She'd snuck into Harry's dormitory, slipping under the curtains of his four-poster bed like a ghost.
No sooner had she settled in than Harry pounced, tackling her in an enthusiastic embrace. His arms locked around her like a vise as he peppered her face with playful kisses, laughter spilling from both of them. Hermione could barely contain herself, batting at him lightly as he refused to let go.
"Harry!" she scolded through her giggles, trying to wriggle free, but his hold was unrelenting. Finally, she managed to scoot higher up the bed, leaning against the headboard as she brushed the messy fringe of his hair away from his bright green eyes.
"Hi," she greeted, her voice soft, her smile warm.
"Hi," Harry replied, his smirk mischievous, his expression so utterly Harry that it made her heart feel inexplicably light.
"Got it all out of your system now?" she teased, arching an eyebrow.
"Merlin, no," he laughed, his voice full of unrestrained joy. "Actually… can I tempt you into sneaking off to the Room of Requirement with me? Just a quick run?"
"Harry!" Hermione laughed, giving him a gentle smack on the head. "You're incorrigible."
Harry only grinned wider, pulling her into another hug. His nose buried itself in her hair as he inhaled deeply, his words muffled. "I missed you so much. Honestly, me, Ron, and Draco barely survived without you. We're so used to having at least one working brain at all times."
Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled. "Well, you had Luna," she murmured, tilting her head slightly to look at him.
Harry chuckled, his nose still buried in her curls. "Yeah, Luna's brilliant, but she's either eating, reading, or staring at the ceiling like it holds the secrets of the universe. Did you notice how she's been sneaking fruits onto my plate at dinner?"
Hermione's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I did! What's that about?"
"Who knows?" Harry shrugged, his laughter low and warm. "She's been at it every meal since you weren't around. Mostly fruits and vegetables. She even started doing it to Ron, and you know how much he hates broccoli."
The two fell into a comfortable silence. Hermione leaned into him, shaking her head lightly at his antics as he continued sniffing her hair like a mischievous puppy.
"Stop sniffing me so much," she whispered, half-laughing.
"You smell amazing," Harry murmured back, his voice soft and earnest. "Really, really good. Is it a new shampoo? Something from Potions class?"
Hermione shrugged, confused but amused. "No, same as always. Nothing new."
"Really?" Harry's brows furrowed in mock seriousness as he closed his eyes, focusing entirely on the faint scent. "Because you smell… magical."
Hermione huffed a laugh, trying to sniff her own arm discreetly, but caught nothing out of the ordinary. Her cheeks flushed faintly, though she wasn't quite sure why. Before she could comment, Harry tilted her chin up and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
The kiss was innocent, sweet, and full of warmth, and Hermione melted into the gesture without hesitation. His arms wrapped around her snugly, and she let him, the world outside the curtain melting away entirely. For that moment, there was just Harry, his unruly hair, his bright eyes, and his boundless affection.
"You just missed me too much," she teased when they pulled apart, her voice light and playful.
"Guilty," Harry replied unabashedly, a roguish grin spreading across his face as he began peppering her face with kisses once again. This time, he caught the curve of her ear, eliciting a surprised squeal from Hermione.
"No! Harry, stop!" she laughed, squirming under his hold as he refused to let go. "That tickles!"
Harry only laughed, the sound rich and carefree, as he tightened his hold. They wrestled briefly, Hermione struggling to evade his relentless affection, but in the end, she gave up, collapsing against him in a fit of giggles.
They spent the rest of the night curled up together, trading quiet laughter and soft whispers until sleep finally claimed them both.
xxxxx
Hermione snuggled closer to Harry, her cheek pressed warmly against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing her in ways she didn't quite understand but thoroughly enjoyed. The dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves of the great beech tree, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow over them. The lake shimmered in the distance, its surface rippling gently under the soft caress of the breeze, creating an idyllic backdrop to their stolen moment of peace.
Harry's arms wrapped around her protectively, his grip firm but comforting, as though she was a lifeline anchoring him to the present. He absently ran his fingers through her hair, brushing a strand behind her ear before his hand rested on her back, drawing her impossibly closer. Hermione sighed contentedly, feeling the warmth of his embrace seep into her bones.
Since the exams were canceled, the atmosphere around the castle had been lighter, more carefree. Students sprawled across the grounds, enjoying the rare freedom to relax without the looming shadow of academic stress. Ron was off at the Quidditch pitch, soaring through the air alongside Ginny, who had commandeered Harry's broom to practice for her upcoming tryout as a reserve Chaser or Seeker. Her determination rivaled even Harry's on his most competitive days, and Ron, no doubt, was enjoying the opportunity to coach his sister in his own enthusiastic way.
Not far from where Harry and Hermione rested, Draco lounged by the lakeside, basking in the rare moment of calm with Astoria Greengrass. He was in his element, wearing his usual air of cool confidence as he flirted unabashedly with his betrothed. Daphne, her ever-watchful sister, sat nearby with a book in hand, occasionally casting her gaze toward the pair, her expression unreadable. Harry couldn't help but wonder how Draco managed to flirt with Astoria so openly under Daphne's vigilant eyes, but that was Draco—fearless and sometimes does not give a damn.
Harry's attention returned to Hermione as she shifted slightly, her hand absently tracing small circles on his arm. Despite her casual demeanor, he noticed the faint tinge of pink coloring her cheeks whenever his nose brushed against her hair. She had been increasingly self-conscious ever since Harry started habitually sniffing her, a peculiar quirk that made her question whether something about her had changed.
In her quest for answers, Hermione had discreetly asked their friends if they noticed anything odd about her scent. Luna had tilted her head curiously, as if pondering the complexities of the question, while Ginny had simply shrugged, claiming Hermione smelled perfectly normal. Ron, on the other hand, had rolled his eyes and teasingly accused her of fishing for compliments.
The mystery had been solved when Hermione consulted Madam Pomfrey, who revealed a surprising side effect of her brief transformation into a half-cat during the Polyjuice Potion mishap. According to the Healer, her condition had triggered a subtle scent that only her chosen 'mate' could detect—usually a biological phenomenon designed to bond pairs for life. Although this particular trait only appears on half-humans, and as Hermione was a rare case, the Healer was also at a lost if this will stay put or disappear and had insisted that Hermione take down notes on her experiences that would help future cases. The revelation had left Hermione flustered but secretly pleased. That Harry was the only one who could perceive it was both comforting and thrilling.
For now, though, she chose to keep this information to herself, basking in the quiet intimacy of their moment together. Harry's affection, as overwhelming as it could be, was something she had grown to cherish.
Harry finally paused his endearing habit of nuzzling her hair, lifting his head to rest his chin gently on the top of hers.
"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked softly, tilting her head slightly to catch his expression.
Harry's emerald eyes glinted with contemplation. "Do you know what a Pensieve is?"
Hermione shook her head, curiosity piqued. "No, what is it?"
He went on to explain the magical device's ability to store and revisit memories, describing the ones at both Potter Manor and Grimmauld Place. His tone shifted as he voiced a question that had clearly been weighing on his mind.
"Do you think it's a good idea for me to remove the memory of what happened with Lockhart? Just… lock it away for now?" His voice was tinged with guilt and frustration, the conflict in his heart evident.
Hermione's heart ached for him as she recalled the events he referred to. Lockhart's downfall had been brutal, his life unraveling before meeting an end at the hands of Harry's Fenrir form—a dark but poetic justice for his crimes. Hermione had done her best to comfort Harry, reminding him that his actions, though severe, had been necessary.
Her hand moved to rub soothingly along his arm. "You decide, Harry. If it helps you, then yes, I think it's a good idea. You've been restless at night, and we can't always sleep together, right? We'd be caught eventually, and then what? Expulsion!"
Harry chuckled, a low sound that vibrated through her. "Expel me? As if."
Still, her words seemed to give him some clarity, and he nodded resolutely. "Okay, I'll do it when we go home." With that, he buried his face in the crook of her neck again, inhaling deeply as though her scent alone could chase away the lingering shadows of his nightmares.
Hermione smiled despite herself, shaking her head at his antics. She reached for the Arithmancy book she had brought with her, flipping it open on her lap. If Harry planned to take the elective next year, she wanted to be prepared to help him weigh the pros and cons. As much as she loved his playful side, she couldn't resist the urge to guide him academically, her own form of affection shining through.
'Not that he needed it, this lazy boy.' Hermione thought.
Harry remained content to hold her, his arms a constant, grounding presence as she read. For the moment, all was right in their world—a fleeting reprieve from the chaos that so often surrounded them.
xxxxx
Albus Dumbledore massaged his temples, the dull throb in his head threatening to worsen with every passing minute. His office, usually a sanctuary of quiet contemplation amidst the chaos of Hogwarts, had turned into a battleground. The tension in the air was palpable, as thick and unrelenting as the storm clouds rolling in across the castle grounds.
This was the second consecutive year that their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had left behind a scandal of disastrous proportions. Gilderoy Lockhart's death had been a debacle Dumbledore struggled to contain. Despite his best efforts to keep the incident discreet, a handful of students had witnessed the grisly aftermath, forcing him to call in the Aurors and concede to an official investigation.
Now, with the investigation concluded and only a few weeks remaining in the term, Dumbledore found himself cornered. The Ministry's wrath was embodied in the presence of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Sirius Black, the ever-unrelenting Head Auror; and Narcissa Malfoy, representing the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Each of them brought their own brand of displeasure to the meeting, and Dumbledore was acutely aware of the united front formed by Bones, Black, and Malfoy—a trio whose alliances only added to his predicament.
Fudge was the first to erupt, his face flushed with anger and his voice ringing off the office walls.
"This is the second damned year, Albus! The second damned year! Where in Merlin's name are you finding these professors?!"
Dumbledore folded his hands serenely, though the slight twitch in his beard betrayed his irritation. "I must admit, mistakes have been made, Minister. However, I should remind you that former Professor Proudfoot came to us through the DMLE's recommendation."
Amelia Bones let out a sharp, humorless laugh, her piercing gaze cutting through Dumbledore's composure.
"Proudfoot was under the Imperius Curse, Headmaster," Sirius Black interjected, his tone measured but laden with restrained frustration. "We ended the DMLE partnership to Hogwarts in good faith after that incident, and this is the result? Perhaps it's time we resume providing Defense professors directly from our Auror ranks."
Dumbledore shook his head, his expression firm. "I must decline, Head Auror. The events surrounding Proudfoot's tenure have made it abundantly clear how dangerous it is to have a compromised Auror within these walls. Hogwarts must remain a place of safety."
"And you think hiring fraudulent buffoons like Lockhart is safer?" Bones snapped, her voice rising with each word. "I'd rather deal with a deranged Auror who can be restrained than a predator allowed to roam free. My niece, Susan, was in his classroom every day, listening to that vile man's lies. And you expect me to believe this is acceptable?!"
Narcissa Malfoy remained silent, her demeanor cool and calculated. She sat with her legs crossed, an air of aristocratic detachment about her, though her sharp eyes missed nothing. Internally, she seethed. Lockhart's end had been fitting, but it irked her that she hadn't been the one to deliver retribution. She watched the spectacle unfold with quiet satisfaction, content to let the others dismantle Dumbledore's defenses.
Before the argument could escalate further, the door to the office creaked open.
"Ah, sorry, Headmaster," a familiar voice chimed. "Didn't realize you had company. I'll come back later."
All heads turned toward the source of the interruption. Harry Potter stood in the doorway, his green eyes scanning the room with a mix of curiosity and surprise. His gaze lingered on Sirius, who gave him a cheeky wave, and then shifted to Narcissa, who acknowledged him with a small, approving smile.
Dumbledore seized the opportunity like a drowning man clutching at driftwood. "It's quite all right, Harry, my boy," he said warmly, beckoning him inside. "We were just wrapping up our discussion. You know most of the people here, don't you?"
"Harry, my lad!" Fudge exclaimed, his earlier anger evaporating in an instant. He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, his round face breaking into a jovial grin. "Look at you—growing like a weed!"
"Hello, Uncle Fudge," Harry replied, grinning mischievously. "And you're looking well-fed, sir. Been enjoying your wife's cooking, have you?"
Fudge let out a booming laugh. "Cheeky as ever, I see!"
Dumbledore froze, his brows knitting together in confusion. Uncle Fudge? The familiarity between Harry and the Minister was an unexpected revelation, and one that unsettled him deeply.
"I just came to drop this off," Harry continued, placing a rolled parchment on Dumbledore's desk. "It's an application for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Remus Lupin asked me to deliver it since he wasn't sure how to contact you directly after...well, recent events. He's brilliant—knows loads of spells and has traveled all over the world. I think he'd be great for the job."
Amelia's eyebrows shot up in surprise, though she remained silent, watching the exchange with interest.
Dumbledore's face was a study in conflict. Torn between appeasing the formidable figures before him and maintaining Harry's trust, he hesitated.
Harry didn't linger to await a response. "Anyway, I've got to run. I've got a date in the library!" he said cheekily, darting out of the room before anyone could stop him.
Narcissa's lips curved into a faint smile. The boy's antics were endearing, but she wasn't fooled. She knew Sirius and Harry well enough to suspect that they were orchestrating something. The thought amused her, though she couldn't help but wonder what kind of man Harry would grow into. He already had Draco wrapped around his finger, and his influence would only grow stronger with time.
With Harry gone, the room fell silent. All eyes turned back to Dumbledore, who looked more cornered than ever. Narcissa shifted slightly in her seat, her poised demeanor unbroken. The trap had been set, and now it was only a matter of watching the Headmaster squirm.
xxxxx
The Room of Requirement had outdone itself again, transforming into a cozy yet practical gathering space for the small group of Gryffindors and their Slytherin buddy. The walls were lined with towering bookshelves that stretched upward, though they seemed less intimidating thanks to the soft glow of enchanted lanterns. A fireplace crackled warmly at one end, its golden light casting dancing shadows over the mismatched assortment of furniture—a mixture of plush beanbags, armchairs, and low tables cluttered with books, chess pieces, and half-empty cups of butterbeer.
Ron sat cross-legged on the floor, hunched over a chessboard as he furiously debated strategies with his opponent, Luna. Or, more accurately, Luna's chess pieces, who seemed to have taken on minds of their own. The first-year witch was chatting with them softly, clapping her hands in delight as her knight leapt across the board to decimate one of Ron's pawns.
"Do you think it worked?" Ron asked, his gaze flicking to Harry before snapping back to the chessboard. His brow furrowed as he considered his next move.
"I'm sure it does," Draco replied from his spot on a nearby armchair, the latest edition of The Quibbler propped in front of him. He didn't bother looking up, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips. "It feels like we're giving him a choice between Remus and the DMLE, but in reality, we just took away his chance to find another deranged professor to teach."
Harry was sprawled on one of the oversized beanbags with Hermione nestled between his legs, her back against his chest. She was engrossed in her Arithmancy book, one hand absently turning the pages while the other rested on Harry's arm, which was wrapped loosely around her waist. His chin rested on her shoulder as he spoke, his voice low and contemplative. "Honestly, at this point, even if Remus did become our professor, I'll make sure to check on him. I'll use the Map to see if it's really him and make sure he takes his potions before the full moon."
"It would be better if he also had a ring," Ron suggested, finally moving one of his pieces forward. His tone was thoughtful, though his attention remained locked on the game. "The same way as Harry, Draco, and Hermione have—that protects him from Imperius and Legilimency."
"Werewolves aren't affected by those things, Ronald," Luna said brightly. She clapped her hands again as her rook took another of Ron's pawns with a decisive clink. Her dreamy tone and serene expression were at odds with the ruthless efficiency of her chess pieces, which seemed to delight in outmaneuvering Ron.
"That's just Ron's way of saying that he hopes to have a House Ring too," Draco quipped from behind his magazine, just managing to duck as Ron hurled one of his captured chess pieces at him. "Speaking of, Luna—those rune tattoos. When are we doing them? We already have the ingredients for the ink, right? We only need the proper runes to apply to our bodies. Is there any we can use for mind protection?"
Luna hummed, tilting her head as though pondering the question deeply. "It's hard to answer because ideally, we want rune tattoos that are small enough to hide on our bodies. But based on the necessities we wanted—and what you lot want—it'll be hard to hide them. The rune combinations are starting to grow big." She glanced around the group, her silver eyes thoughtful. "Daddy said glamour charms can only do so little, and other adults certainly wouldn't like it if they found out we scarred ourselves."
"Imagine Mrs. Weasley finding out you have a tattoo, Ron," Harry said, his voice laced with amusement. He grinned as Ron visibly shuddered at the thought, muttering something under his breath about certain death by Howler.
"What runes do we have at the moment?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued. She set her book aside, finally giving Luna her full attention.
"We have six at the moment," Luna replied, her tone cheerful as she began listing them off. "They need to be two by two inches big each."
"And the placements?" Hermione prompted, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered the logistics.
"Ideally, the Algiz runes are one each on the arms," Luna explained, her hands gesturing to her own slender limbs for emphasis. "They offer simple protection from stray jinxes, hexes, and minor curses. Maybe the shoulders, so they're easier to hide under our sleeves. The Uruz rune will be placed on the small of our backs—that's where magic is densest in our bodies. It helps enhance physical strength, stamina, and vitality, and it also aids in healing minor wounds."
Her expression grew more serious as she continued. "The Ansuz rune is the tricky one. Daddy said the tongue would be the best placement for it since the idea is for communication across distances…"
"Communication? Like phones?" Hermione asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up.
"Aren't you even bothered by the fact that it would mean tattooing the tongue?" Draco interjected, his tone a mixture of disbelief and horror. "Is that even possible?"
"It is, but it probably hurts a million times more than you'd think," Luna replied with a nonchalant shrug. "If not on the tongue, we'd need to tattoo the Ansuz rune just behind both ears. Anyway, those are the permanent ones."
"Permanent ones?" Ron echoed, looking both intrigued and apprehensive. "You mean there are temporary ones? Aren't tattoos supposed to be... permanent?"
"Yes, but the temporary ones are runes that are single-use only," Luna explained patiently. "For example, we have the Thurisaz rune that amplifies offensive spells. You channel your magic through it, and the rune vanishes after you cast the spell. There's also the Raidho rune, which needs to be paired with an Ehwaz rune. Together, they act as an emergency Portkey that can send you to a predetermined safe location."
The room fell silent as the others processed her words. Even Harry, who had been idly twirling a lock of Hermione's hair between his fingers, looked up, his emerald eyes filled with a mixture of awe and amusement.
"Merlin, she's brilliant, isn't she?" Harry said with a soft chuckle, breaking the silence.
"I didn't even know the last two runes she mentioned," Hermione admitted, shaking her head. Though she felt a twinge of disappointment in herself, it was overshadowed by her growing admiration for the younger witch's knowledge.
"What do you think, Ron? It's your project," Draco asked, folding his magazine and setting it aside.
Ron hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I say we go ahead and do the ones that are easier to hide first. The ones on the back and shoulders would work well. It's easier to get them done now rather than during summer vacation, right?"
xxxxx
It had taken the entirety of the Hogsmeade weekend to complete the tattoo sessions. The timing had been perfect. With none of them old enough to visit the village, the absence of upper years wandering the castle created a rare sense of peace. Their sanctuary was the Room of Requirement, its ever-shifting walls and floors adapting to suit their purpose. The room itself had transformed into something that felt both intimate and ceremonial, its warm glow reflecting the significance of what they were doing.
Draco had taken the lead with steady confidence, tattooing Ron and Luna under the watchful eyes of the group. It was surprising how adept he was—his strokes precise and deliberate, his focus unwavering. Luna, in turn, became an unexpected cornerstone of the process. Her usual dreamy demeanor was replaced with an air of calm authority as she etched the designs onto Harry, Hermione, and even Draco himself. Her hands were steady, her handwork meticulous, her gaze sharper than they had ever seen.
Each rune had taken two painstaking hours to complete. The process required precision and care, the steady rhythm of magical ink seeping into their skin creating an almost meditative atmosphere. Silence often enveloped them as they worked, broken only by the occasional murmured instructions or the rustle of robes.
When the final marks were complete, each of them bore the same three rune tattoos. The Algiz rune, inked on both shoulders, gleamed faintly under the light, symbolizing protection. It felt like a shield, invisible yet reassuring, woven into their very being. Meanwhile, the Uruz rune graced the small of their backs, a testament to physical strength, stamina, and vitality. These tattoos weren't just decorative; they were anchors of purpose, binding their group with magic and meaning.
The potions they had prepared beforehand proved invaluable. One concoction numbed any pain during the process, sparing them from discomfort as the runes were etched. Another potion accelerated the healing process, ensuring the tattoos settled into their skin seamlessly, as if they had always been there. Despite this, they decided to wait a full week before testing the effects. It was a cautious move, allowing their bodies and magic to fully adjust to the runes.
Finally, the week had passed, and they returned to the Room of Requirement, anticipation buzzing in the air like static. The room, as if sensing their purpose, had shifted once again. This time, it resembled a training ground. Rows of dummies lined the walls, and the air smelled faintly of parchment and wood—a comforting mix that grounded them as they prepared to delve into the unknown.
"What do we need to do next?" Harry asked, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity. He was seated cross-legged on the floor beside Ron and Draco, his posture casual yet alert. Hermione sat in front of them, her legs tucked neatly beneath her, while Luna stood at the forefront, wand in hand, her expression serene but focused.
"We just need to input a tiny bit of magic into the runes to activate them," Luna began, her voice as calm as ever, though there was an undercurrent of excitement in her tone. "And then we experiment with some spells."
Harry rolled up his sleeve, his fingers absently tracing the outline of the tattoo on his shoulder. The Algiz rune stood out against his skin, its intricate lines fitting as though it had always been there. It didn't hurt at all, and the faint sheen of healed skin told him it had fully settled. He couldn't help but wonder what Sirius would think if he saw it.
Would his godfather approve? Would he see the runes as a sign of strength and unity—or as reckless experimentation? The thought brought a quiet chuckle to Harry's lips, and he shook his head slightly. He didn't regret it, no matter what Sirius might say.