Chapter Text
Mad-Eye leapt up, wand out, and pointed it at the pile of figures, heaped on the floor. The door they had tumbled through closed behind them and disappeared once more.
“Who are you and how did you get in here?” He demanded. They slowly disentangled themselves and stood up, clearly confused. There were eight people in total. Harry recognised six of them, although the only people he knew by name were Susan Bones and Cedric Diggory. Two of the others were Hermione’s parents, although Harry had never been formally introduced, nor did he even know their names.
Two were Slytherins he was pretty sure were in his year. One was dark-skinned with very closely shaved black hair. His deep brown eyes scanned them all, his eyebrows creased slightly in confusion. The second was a pale boy with short dark hair and cold blue eyes.
The other two Harry didn’t recognise were a beautiful, blonde girl, definitely older than him. Maybe closer to the twins or Percy in age. Harry wasn’t sure. She rattled off a quick string of what he thought was French.
The other was a tall, dark-haired boy who was of a similar age to the girl, maybe a little older. He was standing with a slight slouch, his own wand out and pointed right back at Mad-Eye. Several people gasped as they spotted him.
“No way,” Ron breathed. “That’s Viktor Krum.” The dark-haired boy twitched at the name but didn’t take his eyes off Moody.
“Who are all of you?” Moody repeated, gesturing with his wand.
“Alastor, that is my niece,” Amelia told him.
“Aunt Amelia? Where are we? Why are we here?” Susan wondered.
“We’ll explain everything in a moment. Who else is with you?”
“Mum? Dad?” Hermione burst in.
“Hermione! What happened? Where are we? How did we get here?” Her mother spouted off rapid-fire questions in a manner very familiar to Harry and Ron. They both exchanged grins.
“Everything will be explained to you once we can finish introductions,” Amelia told them.
“Wendall and Monica Granger,” Hermione’s father introduced the pair in a much calmer manner than his wife.
“Blaise Zabini,” the dark-skinned Slytherin introduced himself, putting on a charming grin that Harry noticed didn’t quite meet his eyes. “And this is Theo Nott.”
Mad-Eye’s wand twitched at the name Nott. “Another Death Eater kid?” Theo gave no response to the accusation, merely watching the wand now aimed at his face with a wary expression.
“Relax, Mad-Eye. They are clearly here for a reason,” Tonks spoke up.
“Relax? You’ve heard what’s been revealed. We can’t allow any loose ends. It’s bad enough some of the others are in here,” he grunted.
“Alastor. Please refrain from pointing your wand at my students,” Dumbledore said calmly. “The door has closed behind them, so they won’t be going anywhere if they are now part of the time freeze. Let us get introductions out of the way and explain what is going on.” Moody looked reluctant, but Dumbledore gave him a look, and he finally lowered his wand.
The boy Ron identified as Krum said something in another language Harry didn’t understand, while the French girl began speaking more rapid French, though she seemed to be talking to herself, looking more confident with the wand no longer aimed at her.
“Ok. Please continue identifying yourselves, and then we will do the same before explaining what is going on,” Dumbledore said. Cedric looked around as the other two remained silent. Then he stepped forwards slightly.
“Cedric Diggory,” he said, giving a slight wave.
“Viktor Krum.”
“Fleur Delacour.” The French girl looked far more dubious than the others about giving away her name. She looked around, with more than a little disdain on her face, now that the danger to them had seemingly passed.
“Great, now, I’m Tonks,” Tonks stepped forward with a big grin on her face. Slowly, the rest of the room introduced themselves to the newcomers.
“Fantastic. If you will all come with me, I will explain the proceedings. Amelia, if you will,” Dumbledore said, gesturing to a nearby room. She nodded and ushered the group out of the room. Moody limped after him. Dumbledore began to argue, but Moody insisted.
“That was Viktor Krum! What’s he doing here?” Ron asked excitedly.
“Who is Viktor Krum?” Harry asked.
“Who is… You don’t know?” Ron spluttered. “He’s only the best seeker in the world.”
“I want to know what the Slytherins are doing here,” Percy frowned.
“Well, whoever sent the books back clearly had a reason. I don’t know why they weren’t in from the start, but if they got through the time freeze, then they must have been sent by the same people who sent the books. How else would they know to come here?” Kingsley realised.
“Unless we aren’t in a time freeze. Although that still doesn’t explain why those eight and why on earth they were all together,” Tonks said.
“They must have some sort of importance in the future,” said Emmeline.
“I guess we’ll find out. The explanations will probably take a while though,” shrugged George. “Hermione, can I have a word?”
“Uh, yes, I guess?” She looked at him uncertainly, glancing back to the door through which her parents had disappeared. He grinned and, with a final glance at the other door, she nervously followed him into another nearby room.
They both sat on a couch, and he ran a hand through his hair. If she didn’t know better, she would have said he was nervous too.
“Hey,” he said, offering her a grin.
“Hi?”
“Wanna go on a date?” He asked. She stared at him in confusion.
“What?”
“Do you want to go on a date? With me,” he clarified. “We have time before we start reading again, and I thought, you know, we could do something.” The fact that her parents had just appeared might make things a little awkward, but he refused to let it deter him.
“But… why?” His grin faltered.
“Because I like you. And I guess I thought you liked me too. I know we didn’t exactly have a lot to do with each other before we got here, but that turns out to be my loss. Anyone who slaps a Malfoy is good in my book.” She flushed at the reminder.
“Is that the only reason you like me? Because I slapped Malfoy?”
“You also set fire to Snape.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and he laughed, winking at her. Then he became more serious. “Look, you’re interesting and a contradiction, in the best way. You're smart, really smart. Kind but feisty, and you never let anyone walk all over you. You’ll defend your friends even if it breaks those rules you love so much. I think it’s great how strong you are in your beliefs, even if you sometimes don’t know how to accept that you are wrong. And it doesn’t hurt you’re kinda cute,” he added with a grin. She flushed and swatted his arm.
“If you don’t want to, I get it, but I wanted to at least try.” She considered. Did she even like George in that way? She’d never really thought about it. Or anyone in that way. He was handsome, she supposed. And definitely funny. Before coming here, she would have said a bit too immature, but honestly, while he definitely could be, he also could be serious when it was required. Far more serious than she would have ever believed of them. Seeing their room had been a serious eye-opener on how smart they were despite their grades.
The longer her silence went on, the more his face fell. It surprised her how much it affected her. “Yes. Let’s give it a try,” she said suddenly. It wasn’t rational. It was instinct. His face lit up.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I don’t really know if this will work. But I want to at least give it a try.”
“Brilliant. Meet you in the library at twelve tomorrow?”
“Sure.” He bounced up, gave her a quick hug and left the room. She stared after him, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened.
**************************************************
Ron stared after his brother and Hermione with a frown. What could George possibly need to talk to her about?
“So, best seeker in the world? He only looks about eighteen or so.” Harry’s voice dragged him from his thoughts, and he refocused on Viktor Krum.
“That’s what makes him so impressive. He’s the Bulgarian seeker, and they are favourites for the World Cup. Well, second favourites, Ireland are favourites,” he explained, still amazed Harry didn’t know this. “Reckon he’ll give me his autograph?”
“Maybe,” Harry shrugged. “I wonder why he’s here, though. I can’t imagine what we’d possibly have to do with an international seeker.”
“Maybe we’ll meet him at the World Cup final,” Ron said excitedly. He couldn’t wait to find out. Maybe Krum would even play some Quidditch with them while he was here. Harry had told him about the pitch he’d found. When he suggested it, Harry grinned.
“There’s a few more people now, Draco and I were talking about getting some teams together and playing,” he said. Ron pulled a face at the mention of Draco. He wouldn’t deny the boy was being different here, but Ron suspected it was only because he was under the eye of so many people. He didn’t think he would change, any more than Snape would. Both of them had been complete gits until a whole room full of people made them behave a bit better. It didn’t mean they were actually sorry, or thought they had behaved wrong, it meant they cared about self-preservation.
“Come on, Ron. He is trying,” Harry stated, staring at Ron almost pleadingly.
“Is he really? Or is that what he wants you to think? You really think he’s changed and doesn’t still hate muggle-borns like Hermione? He’s just faking it to get in your good books,” Ron snorted.
“Come off it, you can’t think Draco is subtle enough or a good enough actor to pull that off?” Harry scoffed. Ron had to admit it was a fair point. Nothing about Malfoy was subtle.
“Maybe not, but maybe his mum is. Look, we all know these books are leading to You-Know-Who coming back. And the Malfoy’s are gonna be on his side. But if he acts all sorry and like he wants to be your friend, maybe you’ll stand up for him and all the shit he’s gonna do in the future. It's a smart move, and Mrs. Malfoy is probably smart enough to know that even if Malfoy isn’t.” Harry looked conflicted. Like he wanted to believe Malfoy was good, after everything he’d done. “Why do you even care?”
Harry’s frown deepened. “Because there are far more important things than a schoolyard tiff. My dad and his friends bullied Snape, and look how he turned out, constantly taunting me about my dad and taking out his hatred on me. If there’s a chance Malfoy turns over a new leaf, then it’s one extra thing I don’t have to worry about.”
“That’s different, innit? Malfoy is the one who starts everything. He’s the bully here. And Snape probably deserved it anyway,” Ron shrugged. Harry scowled at him.
“Nobody deserves to be bullied,” Harry told him flatly. “And, yeah, maybe it is different, but if I can be neutral with Draco, or even friends, then that’s just better. I think people can change.”
Harry trailed off. He knew Ron wouldn’t understand. He knew his dad and Sirius had been wrong in their behaviour. He didn’t know the full story, and Snape certainly was unlikely to be completely innocent, but he’d heard enough stories from Sirius to know their idea of pranks, weren’t exactly as harmless as the Weasley twins’. He’d been told his dad grew up, and became a good man, and maybe part of him saw something similar in Draco. Wanted to believe it was possible that someone could change like that. Maybe he was overthinking, and the two situations were nothing alike. After all, his dad hadn’t been like Draco, a blood supremacist who hoped classmates would die. But something still niggled in the back of his mind that he couldn’t voice to anyone else.
Ron was staring at him, clearly a little confused. But then he shrugged. If he played nice too, he could keep a better eye on the git and be in place to protect Harry from the inevitable betrayal.
“Whatever you want, mate. I still don’t like the little git, but I’ll try and play nice if he does.” Harry broke into a relieved grin. He could always count on Ron to have his back.
The two of them then went out to the Quidditch pitch and had some races.
**************************************************
The rest of the group broke into smaller groups, most of which went to get some food as it was approaching lunchtime. Neville sat with Luna and Ginny. They spent a while discussing what might happen in the upcoming book and why the newcomers had been brought in, and why at this point, specifically not at the beginning, when the rest had arrived.
Once they’d finished eating, Luna and Ginny went off discussing some creature Neville had never heard of. As he sat by himself at the table debating what to do, he found himself joined by Susan. Evidently, the newcomers had been released by Mad-Eye and Dumbledore.
“Hey, Nev. Well, this is strange,” she said, settling into the seat next to him.
“Yeah. How did you even get here?”
“No idea. One second I was getting ready to get on the train, and then I was falling through a door. I want to know why now, though. Why didn’t we join you guys at the beginning? Coming in halfway through seems odd.”
“I still don’t know why I’m here,” Neville admitted.
“Me either. But a bunch of copies of the books you’ve already read appeared and Dumbledore recommended we read them today and tomorrow, so we know what’s going on when you start again.”
“That’s a lot to read. But I guess it’ll go a lot quicker without all the interruptions.”
“Well, I’m going to get some food and then start reading. You’re welcome to join me.”
“Reading it once was enough. I need to get some homework done.”
“Yeah, I heard about the lessons. Over summer too! Eugh!” Neville laughed at her outraged expression. Susan scoffed down some food while they discussed their upcoming Herbology project they had planned for the following school year. Neville often joined the Hufflepuff’s study group, though he spent more talking to Hannah than Susan. The duo were practically inseparable, and had way less drama than the golden trio, and made for good company.
When Susan left to start reading, Neville found himself drifting to the library. He hadn’t been lying about the homework. Most of his summer assignments were already done, but he was determined to study ahead in potions so Andromeda wasn’t disappointed in him. He didn’t want to go back to Snape teaching. He’d apologised, sure, but he hadn’t really changed other than that. And the end of the last book, Neville shuddered just imagining the rage.
As he was writing a Transfiguration essay, the library door opened. The dark-haired boy that had arrived earlier came in. The one Ron had identified as Viktor Krum. Neville knew the name, but he didn’t follow Quidditch enough to have recognised him on sight. The Bulgarian saw him and gave a slight nod, before walking straight past Neville and hiding himself in the corner, behind some bookshelves. Neville felt weirdly self-conscious, knowing somebody else was there, even if was out of sight, so he packed up his things and headed back to his rooms.
************************************************************
Mr. and Mrs Granger were stunned, to put it mildly. One moment they had been at work, the next they had been falling through a door into a completely different place. The daughter’s headmaster had explained what was going on, although it all seemed a little unbelievable, even with magic. The gist of it seemed to be that their daughter’s friend was important to stopping an evil wizard and they were reading some books about the past and future.
Monica’s mind was whirling with possibilities upon finding out that magic could actually freeze time or change it. They’d learnt very little about the strange new world their daughter had been pulled into. From the day the stern-looking professor turned up on their doorstep and turned their world upside down, they had struggled to make sense of things. At first, they were pleased, glad their little girl had somewhere she could fit in. Maybe make some friends that she had never been able to make in regular school. They didn’t understand much of it, but she was happy and that was the most important thing.
But then the letters grew fewer. They understood less and less of what Hermione told them. There was a period of several weeks towards the end of her second year where they didn’t hear from her once, which was unlike her. When she’d come home for the summer, Hermione had told them she’d contracted a wizarding disease that meant she’d been confined to the infirmary and unable to write. She had been withdrawn, quieter than usual, so they had suggested a family holiday. It had been lovely, but Hermione had only wanted to go to magical areas, where they didn’t understand much of what they saw. Monica felt like her daughter was only growing more distant, her interest in their world waning in favour of this new one where they were restricted from accessing.
The professor who had come to see them had made it clear that they were not allowed to discuss Hermione’s abilities with other non-magical people. But they also couldn’t access the magical world without her, so they couldn’t go to that strange alley for more information unless their daughter was with them. It worried both parents, their daughter was losing interest in their world, a world they were unable to join her in. She was only fourteen years old and, while Hermione had always been independent, they were uneasy at how detached she had grown. They were both thrilled to discover that reading these books would give them a better insight into what their daughter got up to and her experiences.
Once they were informed of what was going on, and had received copies of each of the three books that the group they had joined had already read, the duo made their way out to the main room they had arrived in. Monica spotted the flaming hair of Hermione’s friend’s father who had shown them about the alley one summer. He had seemed very friendly, if as clueless about their world as they were about his. Admittedly they had been quite disturbed when he got into a nasty fight with another man, but Hermione assured them he was not normally like that.
“Hello, Mr. Weasley,” Monica said, offering a smile. “Do you happen to know where our daughter is?”
“Hello, hello. Call me Arthur,” he smiled back eagerly. “I believe she should be just through there,” he told them, pointing to yet another door.
“Thank you,” Wendall said tersely, before marching his wife towards the door, determined to talk to his daughter.
“Mum! Dad!” Hermione greeted them as they walked into the room. Looking around they saw what seemed to be a sitting room. Hermione sprang up from the couch she had been sitting on and hurried over to give them a hug.
“Hello, darling,” Monica smiled, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Your headmaster told us we’re here to read some books about your time at school and time is somehow frozen?” Hermione’s expression shifted into something almost guilty. Wendall narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Is there anything you would like to tell us, before we start reading the books to catch up?” He asked. Hermione shifted uneasily. She knew her parents wouldn’t understand a lot of her actions and choices, which was why she hadn’t told them about a lot of things that happened at Hogwarts.
“There may be a few things that I didn’t tell you had happened, but I didn’t want you to worry.”
“So those things are definitely going to make us worry,” her father said dryly. “Well, why don’t you spend the day reading with us? Then you can explain exactly why you didn’t tell us. And explain any things we don’t understand.” Hermione grimaced but nodded. They all knew it wasn’t actually a suggestion. She settled in for an uncomfortable afternoon.
***************************************************
Moody watched the group of newcomers leave with distaste. There were already far too many people in this reading group than he would like, let alone adding another eight.
“I don’t like this, Albus,” he said.
“I am aware, Alastor,” Dumbledore replied in a tone that Moody always hated. It was the tone that suggested he was merely placating a child rather than listening to valid concerns.
“Nott is a well-established Death Eater. It’s bad enough we got a couple of Malfoy’s here already.”
“Mr. Nott is a fourteen-year-old boy. He is no Death Eater.”
“Fine, and what about when he takes all of this information back to his Death Eater father?”
“We will take precautions.”
“We? Or you?”
“You are welcome to take your own precautions, Alastor, for I know you will. But you will not harm my students.”
“This is bigger than your students. If one of them spills any of this to Voldemort, we could all be doomed.”
“They won’t do that.”
“You have too much faith, Albus.”
“And you have too little,” he replied serenely. Moody grunted in irritation. It was useless talking to him. He speak to Amelia on the matter, along with Kingsley, later.
Instead, he went to his own room to sort through his notes. He didn’t bother with his notes on the book content, instead he focused on jotting down his observations of how the people in the room reacted. He wanted to be on top of any threats, and to see if anyone had been withholding information that could be useful.
Snape was a given to be watched the most carefully. Dumbledore had vouched for him back in the day, and defended him plenty during the reading, but, having read the books, Moody trusted his old friend’s judgement about as far as he could throw him. Without magic. Honestly, he was inclined to believe Albus might be a problem if he wasn’t so very insistent on keeping his cards close to his chest. Despite his poor judgement, and tendency to give second, or even third, chances to the undeserving, Albus hated sharing information.
The Malfoy’s were another obvious issue. And Andromeda Tonks nee Black. Moody didn’t know her well, but she was born a Black, and Narcissa’s older sister at that. She’d married a muggle-born but that didn’t necessarily mean much.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on the door. He grunted for whoever it was to enter, and Amelia’s head appeared.
“I was hoping to go over a few things with you. I want to spend some time with Susan and have tomorrow to actually relax and not think about the absolute mess we find ourselves in.” He couldn’t argue with that. Considering all they were doing was reading, it was a highly stressful endeavour.
“Fair enough.”
They spent the next couple of hours discussing various problems that would need to be solved once they left the time freeze. It was amazing how frequently they had to have these discussions. Every time they reached some semblance of a plan, they read some more of the books any everything got blown to smithereens. An even bigger problem occurred, and they had a whole new set of issues to solve.
Once Amelia left to find her niece, Moody decided to find Harry. Lessons had been suspended, but the boy’s lack of knowledge troubled him deeply. There was so much to cover he didn’t want to lose too much time. Even with time being currently frozen.
He found Harry flying. It wasn’t difficult. Thankfully, they were nearly finished, and Harry was more than willing to attend another training session. He certainly appreciated the boy’s work ethic. Now that he’d discovered one, anyway.
They mostly went over things that they had already covered. Despite the fact that they spent time going over spell drills for spells he already knew, Harry was exhausted by the end. Maybe it had something to do with spending an hour flying beforehand, but Moody only told him it was good to build up his stamina. He was then treated to a half an hour lecture on the importance of stamina in a fight, both magical and physical. Then he did another hour of spell drills until he could cast a handful of spells in a split second and with deadly accuracy without even thinking about it. He wouldn’t be surprised if he continued doing the wand movements in his sleep.
When he’d been put through his paces to Moody’s strict standards, he was then treated to a duel. Which Harry felt was a little unfair, given that he’d been exhausting himself for the past three hours and Moody was completely fresh, but he knew better than to voice such thoughts. He’d never hear the end of it.
After the training session, it was dinner time. Several people were missing, but Sirius and Remus were both at the table when he arrived. He took a seat next to Sirius and helped himself to a plateful of food. Mrs Weasley had cooked up a feast and Harry was starving.
“How are you feeling?” Sirius asked him. Harry shrugged and shovelled a forkful of shepherd’s pie into his mouth to avoid answering.
“Let him eat his dinner,” Remus said, amused. “How about we have a quiet evening playing cards?” Harry nodded, which made Sirius happy.
Once they’d eaten, the trio went back to their rooms. Harry was glad for some peace and quiet. He was also grateful to have the next day off reading. The last book had been a lot. Maybe because it was the most recent, and the feelings still fresh in his mind. But it also hit closer to home. It hadn’t been just him in danger this time. Ron could have been killed. Sirius was almost kissed. They could have all been bitten and turned into werewolves.
He tried to push these thoughts from his mind and focus on the fact that his godfather was fine, safe and still in possession of his soul.
They spent the evening happily playing games and chatting about nothing. Eventually, Harry felt himself drifting off and decided to turn in.
**********************************************
The next morning, everyone woke at their own pace as they didn’t have to get up for lessons or to push through the readings.
Mid-morning, once the teens and young adults were all awake and had eaten breakfast, they decided to have a game of Quidditch. To Harry’s surprise, the Slytherins joined them. Well, Draco and Zabini did. Nott came to the room, but he had a book in his hand and clearly no intention of getting on a broom. Hermione, Luna and Neville joined him on the sidelines.
Harry and Charlie were chosen as the two seekers. In the interests of fairness, the twins were made to split up and play as the only beater on each team due to numbers. Harry’s team consisted of Fred as beater, Ron as keeper and Zabini, Tonks and Bill as chasers. On Charlie’s team, Draco, Ginny and Cedric were the chasers, Percy was reluctantly drafted in to play keeper and George playing as beater.
Ted agreed to play referee. He threw the quaffle into the air and the game was on. To Harry’s surprise, Zabini proved to be quite a competent chaser. He was incredibly agile and dodged nearly every tackle that came his way. Which was handy, because Draco, Ginny and Cedric made a very good team. Despite their clear differences, having never played together, and two of them being mainly seekers, they worked very well together. Ginny was vicious while Draco had a deadly aim. Cedric had a knack of always finding space and drifting away from any attempts to mark him.
The only saving grace for Harry’s team was that Percy was pathetic in goal, which meant that pretty much any attack his chasers managed went in, whereas Ron made several, very good, saves. Fred and George were, naturally, evenly matched.
Harry flew above the others, eyes scanning the area for any signs of gold. Charlie was looping around the goalposts where Percy was clearly regretting his decision to join in.
Charlie’s team were leading eighty points to fifty when Harry finally spotted the snitch. It was fluttering a few feet above the ground directly in the middle of the pitch. He checked his shoulder and saw Charlie about ten feet above him and off to the left. Harry was closer. Grinning to himself, he flattened himself to the broom and dived so steeply, he was almost vertical. He claimed the snitch with little difficulty, pulling out of his dive at the last possible second.
“Damn it,” Charlie groaned. “Go again?”
“You’re on,” Harry grinned. They switched the teams up and started over.
They spent the rest of the morning, and into the afternoon playing games, none of which lasted all that long. By the time they finished, Harry was winning by three games to one. When they landed, Charlie clapped him on the shoulder.
“The book wasn’t wrong. You’re one hell of a flyer. You could go pro if you wanted to.” Harry beamed.
“Thanks. You definitely made it tough.”
“We’ll have to have a seeker’s match.”
“We can have Draco and Cedric too. Make it more interesting.”
“Good idea.” They made plans with the other two for another day.
As he was leaving the pitch with Ron, Harry noticed Viktor Krum standing at the edge of the pitch, watching him with a curious expression on his face. When he realised Harry had spotted him looking, he glanced away. Then he began walking over. Ron soon noticed and he froze in place.
“I am Viktor. You fly well,” he told Harry.
“Harry. Thanks. You’re a seeker too, right?” Viktor seemed bemused by the question. He clearly wasn’t expecting Harry to have no real idea who he was, but he wasn’t upset by that. Ron was staring at him, clearly recalling that he’d told Harry as much the day before, but Harry knew how much he hated it when people thought they knew him from gossip they’d heard. He didn’t want to do the same to other people.
“Yes. You have a lot of talent when you didn’t start until eleven. I was on a broom at age three.”
“I didn’t know I was a wizard until I was eleven,” Harry shrugged awkwardly.
“Yes. I read. We should fly some time.”
“I, uh, yeah. That’d be brilliant! We were just talking about having a seeker’s match. There are a few of us here who play seeker for our school teams.”
“Good. I need to train.”
Viktor then excused himself and Ron finally exhaled, letting out a strange sort of squeak. “I can’t believe Viktor Krum wants to fly against you!”
“That’s pretty cool,” Harry agreed. Having an international Quidditch star say he flew well was an incredible feeling.
******************************************************
George dismounted and walked over to Hermione. She smiled as he approached, and he flopped down next to her.
“Sorry about that. Thanks for agreeing to delay our date, I didn’t realise it would go on that long.”
“Anything to delay my parent’s interrogation. They’ve read the first two books, and they really aren’t happy. With me or the Hogwarts’ staff.” That was an understatement. They were highly upset with the number of times she’d almost died and hadn’t told them. They were also upset they hadn’t been informed by the staff. Until they’d talked about it while reading, Hermione had never quite understood how helpless her parents felt about the magical world. They’d never really given the impression they wanted to understand it. But, hearing how they’d been so worried when she hadn’t written while petrified during second year and hadn’t known how to even begin to get in touch with her was troubling. Or even contact the school. Or anyone who might be able to get them the information they needed.
“Always happy to be of service,” he grinned lopsidedly, dragging her from her thoughts. “Anyway, I’d better go and have a quick shower, then I’ll meet you in the library as promised?” She nodded. He jumped up and left the room.
After as quick a shower as possible, he put on a smarter shirt and jeans, before taking a detour to the kitchen and grabbing the picnic basket Emmeline had helped him prepare that morning. Then he hurried to the library. Hermione was already there, sitting at one of the tables, surrounded by books. He grinned to himself.
“So, I made you watch Quidditch, are you making me read as revenge?” He asked, sliding into the seat opposite. She flushed slightly.
“No. I just… didn’t know how long you’d be.”
“And you thought it’d take me so long to have a shower you could read half the library?” He teased. She flushed even more and glared at him. “If it makes you feel better, I come with offerings.” He put the basket on the table and conjured a tablecloth. “Pumpkin soup, lemon and herb chicken breast with salad and sugar free raspberry jelly with a pitcher of butterbeer. All of your horribly healthy favourites.”
“How do you know that?” She asked, astonished.
“I pay attention,” he smiled charmingly at her. She raised an eyebrow. “And I asked Harry. Emmeline helped me make it, so I can’t take full credit for that either.” She couldn’t help but smile at that. Honestly, she was a little surprised Harry knew her favourites, let alone that George had cared enough to ask him.
They talked as they ate, and Hermione found him incredibly insightful. He was also very knowledgeable on a broad range of topics. Until he’d shown her their work area, she had never thought about the amount of research that went into the products that they made.
The books she had had piled up around her ended up spread all over the table as they each sought to prove their various points.
They ended up talking for so long, her parents came looking for her, which was horribly embarrassing. Her dad immediately began asking George all sorts of questions, although most of them were about magic in general, and not the awkward questions she had imagined. George answered all of them perfectly politely and, when her mother finally dragged her dad away, he was singing the praises of George, which only served the embarrass her further.
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While her son was playing Quidditch, Narcissa steeled herself for a likely unpleasant conversation. It was long past time she addressed her sister. They’d made brief conversation in the kitchen, but they had avoided the obvious elephant in the room and Molly had been there as a buffer. This was something that needed to be done in private.
She found Andromeda at the dining table. Her husband and daughter were also both at the Quidditch, which made it the perfect time.
“Could we speak?” She asked quietly. Andromeda looked up at her, both wary and surprised. It hurt Narcissa more than she had expected. She took a few seconds to answer, which didn’t help the nerves she was desperately trying to keep at bay.
“Very well. Let us go somewhere more private,” she finally agreed. They adjourned to Narcissa’s sitting room and sat facing each other on the two couches. There was a long, awkward silence, that neither sister was eager to break.
“Your daughter is a metamorphmagus,” Narcissa noted, purely for something to say. It was quite incredible. There hadn’t been anyone in the family with the talent for generations.
“Yes. She is quite the troublemaker with it.” Andromeda smiled fondly. “Gave us quite a lot of trouble when she was younger. Still does, if I’m honest.” Narcissa smiled faintly.
“I was very jealous, when I heard the news. I wished Draco inherited more from me, but now, with what’s coming, it is likely favourable that he did not receive such a gift,” she admitted. If Draco was a metamorphmagus, there was no way he would escape recruitment should the Dark Lord manage to come back.
“Well, he certainly inherited the Black prejudice.”
“I think it is safe to say he gets that from both sides of his family.”
“Indeed.” Another awkward silence fell between them. Narcissa almost began to wish she had invited their cousin. But she had decided against a buffer for a reason. And she was not sure he would have come anyway.
“What did you wish to speak about, Narcissa?”
“I merely wished… how have you been Andy?” Her sister stared at her.
“We’ve been here for days, maybe even weeks by this point. Why are you asking me this now?”
“I did not think you would welcome such inquiries. I still do not know, but I have let the silence between us go for too long.”
“I seem to recall you vowing to never speak with me again,” Andromeda stated coolly.
“I was young. Our father disowned you and threatened to disown me should I not follow his edict. At the very least you had Ted with you. I would have had nobody.”
“You would have had me!”
“And I would have lost any chance at a good marriage. At a good life.”
“Because your marriage ended up so well.”
“My marriage to Lucius has been fruitful. He has been… better to me than many others would have been.” Andromeda gave a delicate sniff that, had it been anyone else, would have been a snort of derision.
“Cissa, if your marriage was that wonderful, either you wouldn’t be here, or your husband would.” Narcissa looked away from her knowing gaze. Thankfully, Andromeda moved the topic onto lighter, less delicate matters. She seemed willing to at least meet Narcissa halfway and make an effort, which was honestly more than Narcissa had hoped for given the way they’d left matters so many years ago.
They talked until a knock on the door interrupted them and Ted stuck his head in to announce that a late lunch was being prepared.
“Thank you for informing us. I will take my leave now. I… I hope we can speak further,” she said, rising from her seat. Andromeda stood at the same time and offered her a thin smile.
“I think that would be acceptable.” Narcissa allowed herself a smile in return before swiftly departing.
Draco was already seated when she arrived, but he was sitting with Nott and Zabini, so she took a seat next to Severus. He was brooding, but that was nothing new. He’d been like that ever since Lucius had introduced them. He barely even acknowledged her presence, but she wouldn’t leave. This was also a conversation that needed to be had. He would cave eventually.
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After they’d finished playing Quidditch, Harry and Ron decided to get some homework done. Or rather, Harry cajoled Ron into doing his, while Harry researched new spells to surprise Moody with, in their next session. Or at least, that had been the plan, until Harry spotted George and Hermione seemingly having a picnic in the library and thought it best not to disturb them.
Thankfully, the room obliged and created a second library, which, thankfully, Ron didn’t notice wasn’t the original.
A few other people drifted in and out. Harry spotted Bill over in one corner and he felt a shiver run down his spine as he guessed what Bill would be researching. The idea of horcruxes still made him feel ill. And the thought of having one in him, he shuddered, cutting off that train of thought. He had a sudden urge to get out of there.
“Be right back,” he muttered to Ron. Ron didn’t seem to notice, engrossed in a book on Transfiguration. Harry hurried out of the room.
Back in the main area, he glanced around, unsure of what exactly he wanted to do. He just didn’t want to be staring at Bill, thinking about the books he was reading and wondering what answers he may or may not find.
“Hey, you lost?” He heard someone ask him. Looking around, he saw Fred walking over, grinning at him.
“Lost? Can you even get lost in here?”
“I wouldn’t put it past some people,” Fred smirked with a pointed look over his shoulder at where Draco was sitting. Harry laughed.
“No, I was just… I don’t know. I was looking up some spells to use against Moody, but I couldn’t concentrate,” he admitted.
“I think I have some ideas. Come with me.” Harry followed Fred to a door next to their workroom. “Some of the best spells to use in a duel, can be prank spells. They might seem useless, but they can cause a wicked distraction, and sometimes the counterspell isn’t as intuitive as it might seem, which can add a few important seconds on. George and I used to practise a lot, but we know each other too well. And we work much better as a team rather than against each other.”
“I’ll bet. You two would be deadly.” Fred beamed.
Harry felt himself relaxing. He didn’t really understand why Fred made him feel so much more relaxed than anyone else did. Sirius and Remus really tried, but they could sometimes be a little smothering. Especially Sirius. And Harry had relished the idea of having a parent figure that cared so much that he focused on enjoying it rather than feeling restrained. But sometimes, the change still gave him whiplash. The fact that before, no adults really seemed to care or listen to him. They’d left him with the Dursleys on the word of Dumbledore alone, never even bothering to check. They’d dismissed him at school even when it was in great danger, leaving him to try and deal with the problem, afraid that Voldemort might come back, or Ginny would die if he didn’t.
To now have everyone constantly judging his actions, promising to be there for him and listen, it was a lot. And he only half believed most of them. He figured it was easy to promise such things when they were in the room. But once they left, would he be forgotten about once more? Left to handle things on his own? He didn’t know.
And Ron and Hermione were brilliant, but Hermione often tried to tell him how he should feel or how to deal with things, rather than just letting him be angry, or sad.
Fred didn’t do any of those things. He’d never dismissed what Harry had to say, he’d never made promises he hadn’t kept. So far, anyway, although it’s not like they had interacted too much until the recent school year. But he didn’t prod at Harry to talk about how he felt, or tell him how to feel, he just let him be. Like the day before, when he had to leave the room during the reading. They had just sat in the next room in silence. Once Harry had pulled himself together, he’d shown him some of the products they’d been working on, guiding him through the runes involved as they were quite basic and easy enough even for beginners to understand.
He didn’t know if it would last. Maybe it was just a one off, but for now, he finally felt able to be truly himself. Not living up to the image of parents he never knew, not being thought of as The-Boy-Who-Lived. With Fred he was just Harry. No jealousy, not judgement. Just distractions when he needed it and space when he didn’t. And Harry had very much enjoyed the novel experience. It was an addictive feeling and he dreaded it coming to an end.
“Thank you, by the way,” he said suddenly.
“For what?” Fred asked, bemused.
“For yesterday. During the reading, the Dementor chapter,” he muttered.
“Oh, that. No problem. Lee used to get panic attacks like that, back in first year,” Fred told him quietly. “And given what we were reading about, nobody can blame you.”
“Still…” Harry didn’t know how to express what it meant to him. Fred just smiled. Then he pulled out his wand and began showing Harry several useful spells.
******************************************************
The following morning, lessons resumed for the younger group, except for the new arrivals who were given the morning to finish any reading they had left. By lunchtime, everyone was all caught up. Some of the new readers had plenty to say over the meal about what they had read and several people, including Dumbledore and McGonagall, had been thoroughly scolded yet again.
Once everyone had eaten, they moved to the main living room to start the next book. Harry took a seat between Sirius and Fred. George sat on Fred’s other side with Hermione next to him and Ron next to her. Remus sat next to Sirius, completing the largest couch in the room. The professors all sat next to each other in individual armchairs, and the Ministry people were grouped together in the same fashion. Neville, Susan, Ginny and Luna sat together on a couch, while the rest of the Weasleys, and Tonks, sat on a third.
Mr. and Mrs Granger sat on a loveseat and the three Slytherin boys sat together. Narcissa sat by herself next to another loveseat that held Andromeda and Ted. Cedric sat on a beanbag next to the Weasley couch while Fleur and Viktor both sat on armchairs a little further away from the group, but still within the loose circle that had been formed. Nobody had really spoken to the French girl, and she had made no real effort to engage with anyone either. Instead, she had hidden herself away in a room and only come out for meals, about which she complained heavily.
Once everyone was seated, they all stared at the new book, which was rather considerably bigger than the last three had been. Nobody really wanted to be the one to start, until Arthur sighed and decided someone really should get it over with. He picked up the book and opened it.