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“Your intentions are good,” Harry said quietly. “I know you’re just trying to keep me and everyone else safe, but I’m playing a dangerous game, Hermione. There are risks I just have to take.”
Hermione began to cry in earnest. Harry simply pulled her close, feeling miserable himself for being the one to make her cry. He shifted to dig in his pocket for the handkerchief, inwardly rolling his eyes at the fact that he had one on him at all. Draco had stuffed it in his pocket before he left, insisting that Harry never knew when he might need it.
Hermione accepted it gratefully, despite giving him a strange look. She didn’t question him, though, immediately turning her eyes away again as she wiped her face and blew her nose.
“All right?” Harry asked quietly.
“No,” Hermione said, sniffing. “I knew you were angry with us a little, but I didn’t understand before that we were actually hurting you. I didn’t see it as us not trusting you.”
“Do you see it now?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” she admitted softly. “And I’m sorry for not having more faith in you. I’m supposed to be one of your best friends, but I haven’t exactly been acting like it.”
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “You’re still one of my best friends, Hermione. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t expect blind faith and for you to just follow whatever I say. I just . . . I just wish you trusted me a little more instead of acting like you’re the only one who knows what’s best for me.”
“I’ve been unfair to you, haven’t I?” Hermione said quietly.
“I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with lately,” Harry said, shrugging again. “I’m not being fair to you, either. I feel guilty about it, but I just don’t feel like I can tell you everything right now.”
Hermione tilted her head. “So you’ve been going to Remus instead of us,” she said.
“Yeah,” Harry said, feeling guilty yet again because he wasn’t mentioning all the other people he was going to as well. She was going to be hurt when she found out the twins and Ginny knew about the Slytherins and she didn’t.
He didn’t know how to tell her that most of the secrets he was keeping from her . . . they weren’t exactly his secrets to tell. It was the lives of Severus and the Malfoys at stake and Harry wasn’t going to risk them just to satisfy his friends. Remus had guessed about Severus and Draco. Draco had made the decision to tell the twins, Ginny and Remus. Narcissa had made the decision to let the twins know of her presence at the Dursleys. The only person Harry had really informed was Severus, and that was only after severe torture. Severus’ torture, not his own, but it was still torture.
“Well, I’m glad you’re getting on with him so well,” she admitted. “It’s been a rather difficult year for both of you.”
Considering his thoughts had drifted to Severus, Harry blinked at her in confusion for a moment until he remembered they’d been talking about Remus. It was time to change the subject. “I gather you haven’t slept much because you’ve been researching,” he said.
Hermione looked at him sadly. “It’s been busy here during the day, what with preparing for the wedding. Mrs. Weasley is probably back in the kitchen again as we speak, preparing for the reception. I’ve been doing some of the research, but I don’t feel like I’ve spent the time I really need,” she said. “I’m sorry, Harry.”
“It’s all right,” Harry said. “I’ve been pushing too hard and forgetting that people have other things going on,” he admitted sheepishly.
“You really are focused on getting rid of Voldemort as soon as possible, aren’t you?” Hermione said. “I think we can all take that as a good thing, overall, but I’m still worried about you.”
“You’re not the only one,” Harry said dryly. “I wouldn’t be one bit surprised if Remus showed up at the Three Broomsticks later to check up on me.”
“Oh,” Hermione breathed, her eyes widening. “I’d almost forgotten about it. You should be going, Harry,” she urged.
“Are we all right now?” Harry asked, looking at her closely.
“Of course we are,” she said, smiling at him. “I’m not nearly as confident that Ron and I are all right, though,” she said.
“Ron likes you,” Harry said. “He’s simply a little, uh, insensitive sometimes.”
“Oh, I know,” Hermione said dismissively. “Things have just been a little strained lately with everything going on. If I didn’t like him so much, though, I’d likely strangle him. I still might,” she added thoughtfully.
Harry sniggered. “I reckon he just wanted to get away for a bit,” he said. “He’ll be back and begging for your forgiveness in the morning.”
“Probably,” Hermione agreed, grinning. Her grin faltered. “You’ll go and keep an eye on him?” she asked hopefully. “Try to keep him from making too big of a fool out of himself?”
“I’ll do what I can,” Harry said, inwardly wondering if he’d be able to do much if Ron really decided to cause trouble. “His brothers are there and likely things will be fine.”
“I hope so,” Hermione muttered. She gave Harry another tight hug before urging him to get going. “I’ve kept you too long as it is.”
“It was worth it,” Harry said sincerely.
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Harry walked into the Three Broomsticks and was immediately herded to a back room by Madam Rosmerta. She winked and informed him that she’d been told to keep a watch out for him.
He stood just inside the doorway, brow raised in curious disbelief. There was a large group of supposedly adult men playing some type of indoor Quidditch without brooms in the relatively small room. Without thinking, he reached up and caught the Snitch when it came flying in his direction – even while he watched the men scrambling for the Quaffle and mostly just landing in a pile of tangled limbs, the Quaffle somewhere on the bottom.
“Harry’s caught the Snitch!” Ron crowed in triumph, standing atop one of the tables at the far end of the room.
Everyone turned to look at Harry in silence for a moment, their positions otherwise frozen.
“Harry wasn’t even on a team and he still caught the Snitch and won the game,” Charlie said, beginning to laugh.
Harry smirked at him. “Someone has to get the job done,” he said.
The entire group started laughing and the pile on the floor began untangling themselves. Several people came up to greet Harry, despite the fact that he didn’t know most of them. He knew Oliver, though, who was grinning proudly as he patted Harry on the back for the win.
“Taught him everything I know,” Oliver proclaimed loudly.
“Couldn’t have – or he’d be a lousy player,” Charlie said, throwing the Quaffle he’d recovered at Oliver’s head.
Laughing, Harry moved out of the line of fire and over to where Ron was, flopping down in the chair next to him.
“What took you so long, mate?” Ron asked, practically vibrating with excitement.
“I was busy consoling your girlfriend,” Harry retorted.
Ron’s face fell for a moment, but then he pushed it aside. “I’m sure she’s fine,” he said petulantly. “She’s just mad because I got to go out tonight and she didn’t.”
Harry thought it was more because Ron didn’t make any attempt to reassure her at all, but he didn’t mention that. “Mostly I just had to work things out with her,” he said instead.
“Did you?” Ron asked, casting him a sidelong glance. “Work things out with her, I mean. She’s been right upset about you.”
“We’re good again,” Harry said. “Not that she’ll stop her worrying, though,” he added wryly.
“You make it difficult not to worry about you with the way you’ve been acting lately,” Ron said. “But you’re going to have fun tonight,” he declared. “No worries!”
He cheerfully offered Harry a glass of Firewhiskey he had sitting on the table, picking up his own. Harry watched Ron take a large swallow then promptly start coughing and sputtering, his eyes blinking rapidly as they started watering.
“Good?” Harry asked in amusement.
