In Daylight's Shadow

Chapter Seven

The Leaky Cauldron was already brimming with people, despite the early hour. The old wooden tables around the bar were packed with people busily eating breakfast, and the aged wood seemed to sigh whenever a new person sat down. Hermione Granger was sitting at a corner table with an untouched plate of scrambled eggs and a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of her. She'd been sitting nervously, playing with her hair and waiting for her friends to arrive for nearly fifteen minutes. They had agreed to meet at nine o'clock, which was not for another five minutes, but she still wanted to be there early, just in case one or two of them arrived early. Well, one of them, she thought to herself, as she watched a particularly large wizard cramming pork chops rapidly into his gaping mouth.

She had been feeling on edge ever since Harry's birthday party. Her brain had been replaying the events of that night over and over, and she felt no closer to working out any viable solution. She couldn't decide how Ron had known about Prague, and why he had bothered mentioning it at all. She often worried that her academically centered conversation bored him, so to have him initiate a dialogue of historical note was something she hadn't expected. She wondered if he had done it just for her, or if he just happened to know about the Sword of Ishmar because it was a big weapon. Yes, she thought to herself as she settled back into her seat. That must be it.

Unless... she thought as she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift back to the party. She was starting to get a clear image of her and Ron speaking when she felt a soft tap on her shoulder, and she jumped with a start. Opening her eyes, she saw Harry Potter standing in front of her.

"Sorry about that Hermione," he said. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh. That's alright Harry," she replied softly. "I was just thinking about...never mind. Goodness its good to see!"

She stood up and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her for a moment, then stepped back and sat down in the chair opposite her.

"Have you eaten?" she asked, resuming her seat.

"I managed to grab a few pieces of toast before I left the Dursley's this morning," he said.

"A few pieces of toast? That's not nearly enough for a growing boy. Here," she said, sliding the plate of scrambled eggs towards him, "finish these."

He looked at her for a moment, then smiled, and slid the plate in front of himself.

"Thanks."

She sat for a moment and watched him eating the eggs, gently ushering the fork from his mouth to the plate in a rhythmic circle. She couldn't help but think of Ron, and his tendency to eat scrambled eggs as though a wind was trying to suck them from his plate. I like a man with a sense of gusto, she thought herself, and then had to force herself to not giggle.

---

An hour earlier in the kitchen of the Burrow, Ron had, ironically, been shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth. He had been up late the night before drawing up a plan in his mind, and had sadly overslept. Having only a few minutes left to get dressed, he was eating a tad faster than normal. Swallowing the last mouthful with a heavy gulp, he jumped up from the table and sprinted upstairs without a word. He ran into his room, and promptly tripped over his broom, sending him sprawling onto the floor.

"Dammit!" he bellowed, pulling himself up onto his feet. He shook his head clear and ran to his closet. He grabbed his best robe and his favorite pants and shirt, and threw them on. He moved into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, examining himself. He quickly realized he had put the shirt on backwards. Swearing to himself again, he righted it, then looked into the mirror again. Not too bad, he thought, adjusting his red hair with his fingers. Satisfied with his appearance, he charged back out into his bedroom, and opened the door. He was about to dart out of it when he saw Ginny standing in the doorway, smiling at him.

"Quite a commotion in there," she said, looking over his shoulder at the debris that littered the floor. "What happened, stray gnome get loose?"

"I was just trying to be ready on time," he said, brushing past her. "Now shall we get going, or would you like to stand here all day?"

"No, no we can go," she replied, falling into step behind him as they moved down the stairs. "You just seem to be in quite a hurry."

"Well, I don't like to leave my friends waiting for me," he mumbled as they rounded the third floor landing.

"Of course," she said mockingly. "That's very considerate of you. And what prompted this new... appreciation for the rules of polite company?"

Ron stopped suddenly on the last step, and turned to face his sister.

"All right," he sighed, his shoulders sinking slightly. "I think you know bloody well why I'm hurrying, and I'm having a hard enough time of this without you pestering me."

Ginny considered her brother for a moment before replying.

"Okay, Ron. I'm sorry. What do you have planned?"

"Too much to tell," Ron replied, turning around and continuing down the stairs.

"Do you need any help?"

"Actually," he said, stopping again, "if you could get rid of Neville and Harry for a few minutes at some point, it would help a great deal."

"Consider it done," she said as she brushed past him and walked into the family room.

Molly Weasley was standing by the fireplace, holding in one hand two small money bags and a large white urn in the other.

"Here is your spending money," she said, giving one bag to Ron and one to Ginny. Spend it on things you need for school, nothing else. I love you both, so stay safe! I expect you back no later than six."

She hugged them each in turn, then pulled the lid off the urn.

"Ladies first," said Ron sarcastically.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the urn. Moving to the fireplace, she threw it into the pit, and a swirl of green flames erupted. Shouting "Diagon Alley!" she ran into the flames, and vanished.

Ron waited for the flames to dissipate, then grabbed his own handful of powder. He was about to throw it into the fire pit when he heard Bill's voice behind him.

"Ron! Glad I caught you," said Bill as he ran into the living room.

"What?" Ron asked, confused.

"Good Luck!' Bill said, as a slow grin spread across his face.

Ron nodded at him seriously, his eyebrows crinkling. He turned to the fireplace, took a deep breath, and threw the green substance into the fire.

"Diagon Alley!"

---

Ron stepped out of the fire place in the Leaky Cauldron and dusted himself off. Looking around, he saw Ginny standing a few yards away, talking with some of her fellow fifth years. He walked over to her and tapped her on the arm.

"Oh," she said, turning away from her friends. "What took you so long?"

"Nothing," he muttered, scanning the room. "Have you seen Harry or Hermione?"

"Not yet," she replied, likewise looking about the bar. "But I'm sure they'll turn up even- Oh! There they are!"

She pointed to the corner of the bar, where Ron saw Hermione sitting next to Harry, who was delicately eating from a plate of scrambled eggs.

Blimey, he thought to himself as he walked over, that boy does not know how to eat his eggs.

He made his way quickly through the throng of people. Harry saw him from the corner of his eye, and he waved at Ron. Finally making it the table, Ron grinned at his two friends.

"Crickey!" he said, breathing heavily. "It's bloody packed in here."

Harry and Hermione grinned back at him. Harry stood up and gave him a pat on the shoulder, then sat back down. Hermione rose as well, paused for a moment, and then gave Ron a quick, soft hug. She sat back down somewhat rigidly.

Ron pulled up a free chair and sat with his friends. The three swapped the respective stories of their mornings, and they laughed merrily when Harry told them about the look on Vernon Dursley's face when Remus picked up the trunk he had spent ten minutes trying to work down the stairs.

"Where is Remus anyway?" Hermione asked.

"He had to go to a meeting at the Ministry," Harry explained. "He sends his best, though."

Just as he finished speaking, Ginny came sprinting up to the table.

"Hey everybody," she said. "Sorry I'm a little late. I got caught up talking to Charlotte Lewis, who apparently has a bit of a crush on Colin Creevey!"

Harry shuddered.

"Hope he doesn't bring his camera everywhere he goes with her," he said, looking at the table.

The other three laughed as Ginny sat down, and their conversation resumed without further interruption. Ron and Harry where midway through a conversation about the upcoming Quidditch season when Neville Longbottom appeared at their side.

"Hey guys!" he said with a grin, sitting in the only available chair. "Sorry I'm late, couldn't find Trevor before I left this morning."

The four at the table grinned at each other.

"Right, since we're all here," Hermione said, "what shall we do first?"

"Well everyone has eaten," said Harry. "Right Neville?"

Neville nodded.

"Good," continued Hermione. "Then I think we should get our shopping out of the way first, seeing as the shops aren't as crowded now. Then this afternoon we can do whatever we like."

"I do have to stop in at Gringotts at some point," said Harry, "to pick up a little more money, and deal with the will."

The group quieted for a moment, then Ron spoke up.

"Allright, why don't you do that after lunch. We could all split up then for an hour or so if we need to, and we can meet back up after."

The group agreed on the plan. Leaving a few coins on the table, they stood up and made their way slowly out of the bar and into the street beyond.

---

As much as Harry usually found shopping to be rather repetitive, the company of Neville, Ron, Hermione and Ginny seemed to make the experience incredibly enjoyable. The group managed to purchase all of their necessary school supplies in only a few hours, even with frequent pauses to allow them to mingle with their schoolmates. The four sixth years spent quite a bit of time making fun of Ginny, who, with her impending O.W.L.'s, had to buy nearly twice as many books as the rest of them. They even managed to stop in at number ninety three, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which had fortunately been completed before the rush of student shoppers. Unfortunately, the place was too packed with students to allow Fred or George to spare a moment to talk with any of the group, but both promised to find them later on.

At eleven o'clock, the five friends settled down at a table outside of The Three Heads Pub, a new restaurant the owners of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor had opened the previous summer, and ordered a stack of sandwiches. As they waited for their food to arrive, they speculated about who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would be. While they all agreed Remus Lupin was the best candidate, none of them could offer a possibility the entire group found plausible. The conversation was waylaid when a young witch brought out a plate loaded with sandwiches and several bottles of cold butterbeer. The group ate contently under the slow burning sun.

Finishing the last of his sandwiches, Harry leaned back in his chair and watched the red parasol that stuck out from the center of the table turn slowly in the wind.

"Well, I should head to Gringotts," he said presently, as the other finished their meals. "I shouldn't be more than an hour. Shall we meet back up Weasley's Wizard Wheezes at around one?"

The group agreed, and waved as Harry walked up the street towards the bank. As he disappeared into the crowd, Ginny stood up as well.

"I suppose I've been putting off talking to Dean long enough," she said, glumly. "I'm going to see if I can find him at Quality Quidditch Supply. Fancy coming along Neville?"

Neville looked surprised but quickly composed himself. He nodded and stood up.

"We'll see you two at one then," Ginny said to Ron and Hermione, then quickly set off up the street with Neville.

Ron and Hermione sat together in silence for a long minute, both acutely aware of their isolation. Ron could feel the emotion welling up within him. Finally, he spoke.

"Nice day isn't it?' was the most he could choke out.

"It is." Hermione replied.

There was silence for another minute. Underneath the table, Ron began balling his hands into fist and releasing them. Hermione rubbed the back of her front teeth with her tongue.

"Doesn't look like much chance of rain, does it?" Ron said.

"No, I wouldn't think so," Hermione replied.

The two of them sat there sipping on their butterbeers for a few more minutes, neither talking as they looked out across the bustling crowd.

"Ron?" Hermione suddenly blurted out.

"Yes?" Ron replied, looking at her.

"The night of Harry's party. When we were talking about my time in Prague. How did you know those things you said?"

"About the Sword of Ishmar?"

"Yes."

"I read about it in a book about the Goblin Revolutions in eastern Europe," he said simply.

"Why would you read a book about the Goblin Revolutions in eastern Europe?" she asked intently.

"Because it was the second book in the series. I finished the fifth and final one a few days ago."

"A few days ago?" she asked, her voice a tad louder. "You mean you read five books you didn't have to read over the summer? What about Quidditch? Or sleeping in all day?"

"Well, actually, I read twelve books this summer," he said softly, sliding over to sit in the chair next to Hermione. "The Goblin Revolution ones, a series on the history of potion manufacturing, Numerology and Gramatica, Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, Modern Magical Society and Hogwarts: A History."

Hermione sat for a moment, stunned.

"But why did you read all of them?" she finally managed to ask.

"For you," he replied simply.

"For...me?" she whispered.

"Yes," said Ron, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I wanted to be able to talk to you about things you think are important. Things that matter to you."

"I thought I bored you when I talked about that kind of thing."

"No, you didn't bore me. It frustrated me that I couldn't talk with you about them, but I loved the way you look whenever you are passionate about something. I always love the way you look," Ron said, sliding his hand up her shoulder to her cheek, which he grazed softly with his fingers.

Hermione blushed slightly.

"You like the way I look?" she asked softly.

"Hermione," Ron said, running his hand across her other cheek. "I love the way you look."

"But..." she began, but Ron slid his fingers smoothly across her lips, tracing the outline of her mouth. She stopped, and looked at his soft brown eyes.

"I love the way you write, and think, and move, and breathe. I love the way you talk to me, and the way you eat, and the way you smile, and how every time I'm near you I feel a sense of power inside myself." His fingers slid back down her face, and she felt his palm on her cheek, as his fingers traced the outline of her ear. "And I know that's why if I don't do this now, I'll never forgive myself."

"Do what?" she asked breathlessly.

He smiled at her, and slowly leaned in towards her. Slowly, with an infinite tenderness, he kissed her.

---

Harry managed to make it into Gringotts without being to badly manhandled by the crowd of shoppers. Making his way to the front desk, he withdrew the small key to his vault from his pocket. He stepped up to the goblin sitting behind the large oak bureau, and identified himself. The goblin nodded, and, after flipping through several of the stacks of parchment that lay about his desk, asked Harry to follow him.

The stout goblin lead Harry through a door at the side of the lobby, and into a network of winding corridors. After a few minutes, they stopped in front a simple red door. A plaque hanging on the wall said Shike Polurto, Acting Manager. The goblin opened the door and ushered Harry in, then moved back off down the corridor. Harry walked into the room, and saw another goblin, taller and fatter than the first, sitting at a desk.

"Hello Mr. Potter," the goblin said. "I am Shike Polurto, manager of Gringotts. I believe we have some business to attend to?"

Harry nodded and sat down in the chair Polurto motioned to.

"Now, let me begin by saying Gringotts offers our most solemn condolences on the loss of your godfather. The Black family have been excellent customers for centuries. Of course, regardless of the recent ruling by the Ministry of Magic clearing Sirius Black's name, we have always been glad to call the Blacks friends."

"Thank you," Harry said formally.

"Now, in accordance with Sirius Black's will, I must ask you to sign this."

Polurto slid a parchment with a quill resting on top towards Harry. Harry reached up to the desk, and pulled the paper towards him. He glanced at it, then looked back at Polurto.

"What is it?"

"Oh, just a document that acknowledges that you are Harry Potter, and accept responsibility as the primary beneficiary of Mr. Black's estate."

Harry nodded, and, grabbing hold of the quill, signed the parchment.

"Thank you," said Polurto, pulling the parchment across the desk and placing into a file. "I have a letter for you from Mr. Black." Polurto reached into the folder and extracted a small yellow parchment. He handed to Harry. "Would you like some privacy to read the letter?"

"Yes, thank you," Harry said, taking the paper from the goblins hand.

Polurto nodded, stood, and walked to the door. Harry waited until he heard the door click closed, then turned his attention to the letter.

Dear Harry,

Godson, How I wished to see you grow into the fine man we all know you will become. Sadly, if you are reading this letter, I may not have had the chance. Still, I want you to know how proud I am of you, and how proud I'm sure James would be. Even if you doubt everything that is happening in the world around you, never forget the one inedible truth I have learned; nothing matters more than love. When you strip everything else away, all that matters is friends and family. That's why, no matter how proud I am to have you as a godson, I am most glad to have you as a friend.

With all my love,

Sirius Black

P.S. Not that you probably could, but don't spend the entire fortune in one place.

Harry sat back in his chair and held the letter to his heart. Slowly, a tear rolled down his cheek. Then another. He tried to fight them back, but as the memories rolled over him, he began to weep.

---

A half an hour later, Harry emerged from the marble archways of Gringotts and blinked heavily in the bright sun. His eyes had adjusted to the low light of the cavernous vaults that lay underneath Gringotts, and the harsh sunlight hurt his eyes. Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his eyes, then opened them gradually, letting them adjust to the outside.

It had taken him nearly five minutes in Shike Polurto's office to regain control of his emotions. When he had finally wiped the last tear from his cheek, he had walked to the door and found Polurto standing behind it. Affirming that he was ready to examine the vault, Polurto had guided him further through the mesh of corridors to a small trolley, which they had ridden through the caverns to the Black vault. Giving Harry the key, Polurto stood back and let the boy examine in for himself. Harry gasped when he first opened the door. The vault was littered with gold and silver of every variety, glittering in massive heaps. Overwhelmed, he had stepped out of the vault and arranged with Polurto to have the contents sorted and catalogued. Another quick ride had taken him back to the lobby, and a short walk left him where he now stood.

Satisfied that he was no longer blinded, Harry glanced down at his watch. Realizing he still had ten minutes before he was due to meet his friends, he set off down the street at a leisurely pace. As he was nearing the front door of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, he saw Ginny and Neville walking out. Waving his arms in the air, he shouted at them.

"Ginny! Neville! Over here!"

The two turned around, and smiled as they saw him through the crowd. They ran towards him.

"How did it go?" asked Ginny.

"Well enough," Harry replied, dodging the question. "What have you two been up to?"

"Well," Ginny began, a sudden air of defiance coming over her. "I went to talk with Dean, and that lummox didn't even give me the time of day! So I told him 'Fine! If you want it that way, you can have it that way!'. Well, he didn't seem to mind. Anyway, Neville and I had a look about, and we were just heading to meet up with you when we saw you!"

Harry looked at Neville and cocked his eyebrow, but the boy merely smiled sheepishly and averted his gaze.

"Shall we go see if Ron and Hermione are still at The Three Heads?" Harry asked, motioning down the street.

"Sure," said Ginny, taking Neville's arm and pulling him forward. Neville winced slightly.

As they made their way down the cobblestone road, Harry could see the tops of the red parasols of The Three Heads poking out from above the crowd. They had made their way to the edge of the outside eating area, when Harry stopped suddenly.

Ginny bumped into Harry, causing Neville, who she was still attached to, to bump into her.

"Ouch!" she said. "Why did you stop?"

Harry stood with his mouth hanging slightly open, and he pointed forward to the table where they had eaten lunch. Two people where sitting next to each other in the high backed chairs, kissing. Harry could make out Hermione's fingers on the back of Ron's neck, whose hand's where softly playing with Hermione's curls.

"Geeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Ginny squealed loudly as her eyes came upon Ron and Hermione.

Half of the people sitting at the restaurant, including a very surprised Ron and Hermione, turned and looked at her. Ginny went a very dark shade of crimson. She rushed over to where Ron and Hermione were sitting, both whom looked fairly bewildered.

"You?" she said, pointing at Ron. "And you?" She pointed at Hermione.

"Well, if one would have to put in that way, which one probably should, then one would want too..." Ron started mumbling, but Hermione cut him off by giving him a quick kiss. She turned back to Ginny, who had been joined by a wide eyed Harry and Neville.

"Yes," she said, smiling silkily. "Me, and him."

---

After the initial shock had worn of, the five friends slowly reverted to some sense of normality. While most of them where still slightly unnerved by Ron and Hermione's frequent displays of affection, nothing of terrible embarrassment was mentioned. They spent the rest of the day wandering around Diagon Alley, even managing to stop in at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Fred and George lamented their success, and the increased work it demanded from both of them, but seemed very satisfied with their days haul. They even provided their guests with an assortment of their most recent inventions.

When six o'clock finally arrived, Harry bid farewell to his friends, agreeing to meet them two days hence at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, and made his way to the room at the top of the Leaky Cauldron he had booked for himself. Flopping onto his bed, he thought about the letter Sirius had given him. While he still felt that he could have saved the man he was proud to call godfather, he was immensely glad for all Sirius had taught him. None of them are ever really gone as long as I remember them, he thought to himself. He smiled. Soon, as he felt his eyelids started to weigh down upon themselves, and he felt sleep creeping up to him, his thoughts turned to Ron and Hermione. "Well," he mumbled, grinning, "stranger things have happened."

In his bed at the Burrow, Ron lay awake, staring at his ceiling, running over and over the kiss in his mind. "Me," he said dreamily, "and her." A smile creased his face.

In her bed with at her parent's home in Devonshire, Hermione smiled to herself as she wrapped her arms about the pillow next to her. "Me," she said softly, yawning slightly, "and him."

That night, three young witches and wizards slept very peacefully indeed.