Revelations

Chapter 6: Old Friends

Everyone was there. Neville and Morian congratulated the graduates while Neville handed out brochures that ensured a "Wonderful life in Law Enforcement". Harry shook his hand and traded few words. ("HARRY POTTER, still around eh? Care to do some detective work?") He also saw Dean, Seamus, and some other Gryffindors. McGonagall had been very happy to see Harry, jokingly asking whether he was still practicing Quidditch or not. Harry shook hands until his fingers were numb and felt incredibly relieved when the music started.

The graduates were dressed in regal black robes, with formal hats on their heads, each wearing bands bearing their house colors - blue and bronze for Ravenclaw, black and yellow for Hufflepuff, red and gold for Gryffindor, silver and green for Slytherin. Other bands were added to the robes of those students with other honors, such as House Honors, Hogwarts Honors, Head Boy/Girl, Quidditch Honors, etc. Each Head Boy and Girl stood at the front of his or her house lines, bearing a tall banner that held the emblems of each house, as well as long streamers with the house colors. It was a spectacle to behold.

Harry tugged at his robes uncomfortably. A slow picture formed in his mind of his own graduation. There were the same lines, the same kinds of robes, but the atmosphere had been completely different. There had been no music. The sky had been so gray that even in mid-afternoon the light was scarce. But the strangest thing was he didn't remember being in it, or actually witnessing the event. It was like someone had simply shown him photo of the event, moving slowly across the field. He remembered something else too. In his Graduation, it should have been Hermione holding the flags, since she had been Head Girl, but he clearly remembered it being someone else holding the Gryffindor banners. How come?

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For about two month after the Incident, as Ron dubbed it, Harry had seen Hermione a handful of times. Every night he and Ron sat in the common room, playing chess and unconsciously waited for the return of the missing piece of the threesome. But she never did; at least, she only came back very late, past the hours when Ron and Harry would finally stumble up the stairs in a sleepy tumble.

One thing Harry feared was to witness the relationship that had brought his world to a stop. He peered around walls and classrooms, hoping never to catch a glimpse of the couple. In Harry's mind, if he never saw it, then maybe this was all a dream. Maybe it never happened. Maybe tomorrow he'll wake up and find that the two dearest people in his life talking in the Common Room like old times again. But then one afternoon, as he made his way across the courtyard to his last class of the day, Harry momentarily caught a glimpse of two people together under the archway. His arm was linked around her waist, and his head rested against her shoulders. She had her back to him and was point up towards something in the sky. His head tilted upward, running one hand through his pale blonde hair, revealing the stark blue of his irises. She leaned back and rested her brown curls on his chest, and closed her eyes. He looked down again, and placed a kiss on her lips. She, in turn, reached up and touched his face. It was all too perfect, and all too real. Harry had to look away. As he left the courtyard, he could see out of the corner of his field of vision the look on Hermione's face. She had seen him, and her eyes were welling up at the sight of him leaving without saying a word.

Ron hadn't spoken to Hermione in all this time. He would pass her in the halls, and just as Harry believed Ron was going to speak and fix the situation, a flash of anger would rise in Ron's eyes and all would be lost. But each day, Ron still waited in the Common Room late into the night with Harry, hoping that the next time they caught each other, he wouldn't be so angry, so hurt. It continued like this for months. It continued even after Ron began dating a girl in Hufflepuff and was bursting at the seams to tell Hermione about it. But his pride simply got in the way, and the two would just pass quietly, day after day. Hermione only spoke to Harry every so often, since they had only one class together, and each time she would smile through the awkward conversation. But Harry could see the disappointment behind her eyes, the disappointment that after everything that has happened, this would be perhaps the end of it all.

A week before school was ending, just as the N.E.W.T.s came to a close, Hermione caught Harry's sleeve as he went into Potions. She slipped him a note and vanished out of sight.

Harry opened the tiny crumpled piece of parchment.

"Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at 10."

Harry sat at the fire in the common room for a while, waiting for Ron to get tired. They had Quidditch practice that day, and Ron looked entirely beat. He hardly moved his chess pieces at all and Harry was easily beating him. Ron was falling out of his seat with weariness.

"Ron, go to sleep."

"You coming?" yawned Ron.

"No, I'm going to sit a while."

Harry waited until Ron stepped up into the Dormitory, and then heard the reassuring clunk of his body thrown against his bed. He was probably going to fall asleep that instant. Just a while more.

Harry climbed up to the Astronomy Tower just after 10. The stars were bright this night, since it was a new moon. He was just thinking about how much he probably failed his Divination N.E.W.T.s when a voice startled him from behind.

"Hi Harry."

It was Hermione. Her face was streaked and messy, her hair no longer the perfect spirals but the mane from the years before. Her robe was dangling from her arm, and she was wearing a pale blue dress that her mother made her for her seventeenth birthday. Harry remembered the day she first wore it, and boys nearly killed themselves tripping over their own feet, staring at Hermione as she swooshed down the corridors. But in this light, the blue looked faded, and the dress looked heavy. Hermione looked positively sick. She hasn't slept in days, Harry guessed.

She sat down next to Harry, tissues crumpled within her fingers. She looked down at the velvety floor for a bit before she spoke.

"We broke up."

Harry let out a sigh of relief - he had thought that something horrible had happened. But then he sighed out of sympathy. Something horrible has happened. She was distraught and as a friend, he had to comfort her. He remembered how she had comforted him when he and Cho first broke up, or the fifth for that matter. She had consoled him and explained very carefully just why Cho felt what she felt, and helped him think of ideas to make things better. All Ron offered was a "Women!"

If she had been in love, the he had no right to belittle it.

But where to start? Should he tell her that Malfoy wasn't good enough for her anyway? Should he simply tell her he understands and he was there for her? Should he get up and go punch Malfoy? Or, better yet, watch her punch him? After deciding against all of the above, Harry reached over, wanting to give a hug, but then hesitated and ended up patting her on the shoulder stiffly.

Good job Potter.

But apparently that was all Hermione needed, for she fell upon Harry's shoulder and began to wail incessantly.

For a while, the awkward duo sat in the tower, one crying without stop and the other offering little but his shoulder and a pat, and a "There there" every once in a while.

Just as Harry was about to suggest a different look at the situation, Hermione began to choke out the tale.

"He...he...*hiccup* received...a....*hiccup* letter...from..hi...his...father....*hiccup*. Lucius...f...f...found...out...*hiccup*....and...demanded...*hiccup*...Draco...from...se...seee....seeing me..... He...he....said...he *hiccup * couldn't...disobey...his...f..fff...ather..." and proceeded to continue crying.

Harry seethed. Lucius Malfoy has crossed paths with Harry a half a dozen times and with every meeting, Harry's hatred of him grew even more. To him, Hermione wasn't the smart, witty, willful girl that he knew, but simply a mudblood, born to Muggles.

He sighed.

Hermione stood up in a fit of rage. "I hate him, and his father."

Harry didn't know what to say. He knew that maybe four month ago he would have agreed to no end what she was saying now, but today, at this moment, he would have rathered she not hate anyone, even the Malfoys.

Hermione began to spin a vast miasma of what-ifs. She stumbled on about what she would say if at this moment Draco came to her, what if at this very second he was screaming at his father, what if he really loved her. Then, denying the joy she got from pretending, she chided at herself for even thinking that was possible; on and on, as if her whole life depended on the next meeting with Malfoy. The she stopped, sighed, and slumped against Harry.

Abruptly, she turned to face Harry. She stared at him for a very long time, or at least what seemed like a very long time.

"Thank you. For not saying 'I told you so'".

Harry stared at her watery brown eyes and her ruddy cheeks. She deserved better than that. In fact, she deserved better than what he could offer; something more that just a pat on the back and a tissue nearby; more than just a shoulder to cry on; more than just a hand to dry the tears.

All at once Harry felt what seemed like bubbles in his stomach and thumping in his head. He wrapped his long arms around the small girl's torso and felt her warmth.

He closed his eyes and kissed her. And his world exploded in flames and sparks.

He could feel her gasp as their lips touched. Instinctively, she pulled away from him, but he cupped his hands around her face and kissed her.

Seconds later, Harry realized she was kissing him back. They parted, and she smiled, sadness dancing at the edges of her eyes.

"You're sweet." She turned and looked languidly across the wide expanse of the fields.

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