The Traitor's Blood

CHAPTER EIGHT

Over an hour later, Harry was clean and warm and sitting alone in his dormitory in the Gryffindor tower. Madam Pomfrey had tried to make him stay in the hospital wing but Harry had been keen to be alone again. She had satisfied herself by to forcing him to take some Pepper-Up potion and eat a bar of chocolate before he left.

He now sat on his four poster bed, still wearing the cosy bath robe, as the sun set slowly on the horizon. There was still about three weeks until the start of term and Harry was unsure whether he would be able to stay at Hogwarts until then or if he would be sent back to Privet Drive. He lay back on the soft bed and stared up at the canopy ceiling.

The door to the dormitory opened. Harry rolled over on his bed and blinked at the doorway. Three figures entered the room.

"Harry!" Hermione ran over to the bed and pulled Harry into a crushing hug. Harry could feel that she was crying.

Ron crossed the room and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. Eventually she pulled away and brushed her tear-soaked hair out of her face.

"We've been so worried," she sobbed.

"I'm really sorry I left you," said Ron. "I should never have left ..."

"Don't be stupid," Harry interrupted him.

"Here." Ron handed Harry his glasses. "Hermione found them outside the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry took them gratefully and pushed them onto his face. Finally the world around him came back into focus. Then he remembered that three people had entered the room and looked around quickly. He caught sight of Ginny's flaming red hair lurking in the corner of the room. She was looking around awkwardly, obviously feeling as if she was intruding on the three friends.

"Oh, before I forget," Ron continued, "I've got your wand here as well."

He dug a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out Harry's wand. Harry took it gladly.

"Mum and Dad had to buy me another one," Ron laughed weakly. "They weren't too happy about it, though. I'm on my third wand in five years!"

"We've brought your things with us," said Hermione. "Lupin went to your aunt and uncle's house to collect them."

"I wish I could've seen that," Harry grinned. "So, am I supposed to just hang around here until school starts?"

"I guess," said Ron. "But don't worry, we'll be here to keep you company!"

"You're staying?"

"Of course we are," replied Hermione, who now wore a broad smile on her damp face. "Dumbledore said we could all stay here for the last three weeks of summer."

*****

Although Harry had originally thought he wanted to be alone, he found he was glad to have the company of his friends. They spent the next few days relaxing in the Gryffindor common room, or walking through the empty school grounds. Harry thoroughly enjoyed being in a Hogwarts empty of students. His friends were always happy to leave him alone when he wanted time to himself and were always there when he wanted company.

They ate their meals in the common room, often joined by McGonagall, who appeared to be staying at Hogwarts to keep an eye on them. Dumbledore had been called away from the castle on their first evening and had not yet returned.

After a week of lazing around and doing as little as possible, Hermione started trying to force them to study, without much success. One particularly warm afternoon, Harry was watching her lecturing Ron on the importance of his NEWT exams, while Ron was pleading with her to relax.

"Hermione, listen," Ron was saying. "We have two years to study for the NEWT's."

"You said that same thing about the OWL's two years ago," Hermione fought back, "and you still came running to me when you realised you'd left it all until the last minute!"

"Harry," Ginny whispered in his ear, "do you want to go for a walk ... get away from those two for a bit?"

Harry was glad for an excuse to escape Ron and Hermione's bickering. He got up quietly, brushing Crookshanks, Hermione's ginger, bandy-legged cat, off his lap and followed Ginny out of the common room. Ron and Hermione did not seem to notice them leave and their argument was still in full flow as the portrait of the Fat Lady, which guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, swung shut.

Harry and Ginny walked in silence along the corridor and down the staircase to the Entrance Hall. They stepped out into the grounds and were greeted by a bright, warm sun, which glittered magically across the lake surrounding the castle. Ginny led the way down to the water's edge and sat in the shade of a tall birch tree.

"Thos two are really annoying me," she said, while absent-mindedly picking at the grass around her.

Harry sat down opposite her and watched the sun dance playfully across the surface of the lake.

"I wish they would just hurry up and get together," she continued, "it's so obvious they like each other."

She began picking up small stones and trying to make them skim across the surface of the water. Harry continued to watch her in silence. He had never really thought about Ron and Hermione liking each other. All they ever seemed to do was argue. But then, they did spend a lot of time together, at school and during the holidays.

"I didn't realise they liked each other, that way," he said finally.

"Oh, well neither of them would admit it," replied Ginny, "but it's just, you know, like they're meant for each other. Ron needs someone who'll keep him in line. Hermione's even started writing his letters for him - she told me it was because he's too lazy to write them himself, but I think she secretly enjoys it."

Harry thought back to the letters he had received at Privet Drive this summer. Then he realised that every one of them had been written by Hermione, who had signed them on Ron's behalf.

"So, are you still going out with Dean Thomas?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject. He felt slightly uncomfortable discussing his best friend's love life with his sister.

"I think so," Ginny replied uncertainly, "but I haven't really spoken to him much. I wrote to him a couple of times but when I saw him at the Leaky Cauldron he just ignored me."

Harry looked away awkwardly and searched his brain for a new subject.

"Um ... so, did you get a prefect badge?" he asked finally, remembering that Ginny was entering her fifth year at Hogwarts, the year in which prefects were chosen.

"No, thank goodness," said Ginny brightly. "I wouldn't want the hassle! I think if Ron was honest, he would admit the only good thing about a prefect badge is the present you get from Mum and Dad. Prefect duties are for people like Hermione. I'd much rather be Quidditch Captain one day ..."

Harry and Ginny spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the cool shade and chatting about school and Quidditch. When the sun disappeared completely behind the surrounding mountains, they gave in to the chilly evening air and walked back up to the castle. On the way, Harry chanced a look at Hagrid's cabin which sat at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. His heart sunk when he realised it was still empty. There had been no sign of Hagrid all week and when Harry had asked, McGonagall had swiftly changed the subject, in much the same way as she did when anyone asked after Dumbledore.

They returned to the common room to find Ron and Hermione sitting in mutual silence by the fire. Ron was polishing his Cleansweep Eleven broomstick and Hermione was reading a copy of 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 by Miranda Goshawk.'

"And where have you two been?" Ron asked in a very patronising tone.

"Just down by the lake," replied Harry, throwing himself into his favourite chintz armchair.

Hermione peered over the top of her book but said nothing.

"Fancy a game of Wizard Chess?" asked Ron eagerly.

They spent the rest of the evening in just the same way they had spent the last few evenings; sitting in the common room together, whiling away the hours until they all got bored enough to go to bed.

It was only nine o'clock when Harry decided to retire that evening. He said goodnight to the others and ascended the stairs to the sixth year boy's dormitory. He changed into his pyjamas and slid beneath the cool sheets in his four-poster bed. He had just closed his eyes when the door opened and Ron tip-toed into the room.

"It's OK, I'm still awake," Harry assured him. He sat back up in his bed and pushed his glasses back onto his face.

"Hermione started whinging at me again, so I decided to come to bed," groaned Ron. "Have you noticed how boring it is here?"

Harry grinned. He had been thinking exactly the same thing.

"Well, it's not as boring as living with the Dursley's," he said, thinking back to the long boring days he had spent staring at his bedroom ceiling in Privet Drive.

"Still, I'm kind of looking forward to school starting," said Ron, getting into his own bed. "Well, I'm not looking forward to the work, but it'll be great to play Quidditch again, don't you think?"

"Yeah, if I'm allowed to play," said Harry glumly. He thought back to last year when he had been given a life-time Quidditch ban. But Dolores Umbridge, their ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who had stood in as headmistress for the last part of the year, had now been demoted and Harry was unsure if the ban still stood.

"I'm sure they'll let you play, mate," Ron reassured him, "McGonagall will see to it. We're rubbish without you playing Seeker."

"So, I guess your mum must be happy to have Percy back," said Harry, attempting to steer the conversation away from Quidditch. He did not want to give himself any false hopes in that area.

"Yeah, I suppose," Ron said unconvincingly.

"What's the matter?"

"It's just a bit ... dodgy," said Ron sheepishly. "Don't get me wrong, Mum's dead happy that he's made up with them. But everyone talks about him like he's an angel or something. I seem to be the only one who still thinks he's a complete pratt. I mean, what he did last year was out of order - I just don't trust him anymore."

They both fell into a thoughtful silence. Harry lay back down and stared up at his canopy ceiling. His eyelids felt heavy as his mind wandered from Percy back to thoughts of playing Quidditch again, flying high on his broomstick, the wind in his face...

In the distance he was vaguely aware that Ron had got out of bed. Harry rolled over and watched Ron creep over to the lamp which was still burning in the far corner of the room. Then, as if he could read Harry's thoughts, Ron hesitated:

"Oh ... er ... do you want me to leave it on?"

Harry could feel his face burning with embarrassment and he turned away. Every night during the last week, Harry had gone to bed after Ron and 'forgotten' to turn the lamp off. He had hoped that Ron would not notice, or just not say anything.

"No, um, it's OK," he stammered uncomfortably, "you can turn it off."

He felt so stupid. He had never been afraid of the dark. It was pathetic. He had spent ten years of his life sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley's. You could not get much darker than that.

Ron retraced his steps and got back into bed, leaving the lamp burning dimly in the corner. They lay in silence again for several minutes.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" Harry rolled over to look at Ron.

"I really am sorry about leaving you there - no, let me finish," he added, as Harry opened his mouth to object. "I just wish I'd had more time to think, things could've been different."

"Honestly, mate, I don't blame you," Harry reassured him. "It's not your fault. I blame those idiots at the Ministry. Obviously someone's pulling the wool over their eyes and they have no idea."

"I asked my Dad who's guarding Azkaban now that the Dementors have left the island, but he just said he couldn't tell me." Ron looked incredibly insulted by his father's lack of trust.

"Well, whoever it is, they're not doing their job properly," said Harry bitterly.

Ron grunted his agreement.

"I wish Dumbledore would hurry up and get back," Harry grumbled, more to himself than to Ron.