Harry Potter and the Missing Prophecy

Chapter Seven

The first week of term passed slowly.

Harry was no longer receiving the stares he had at the Start of Term Feast, apart from the usual from the first years. But that happened at the start of every year for Harry anyway, and the trio knew the attention would die down within a couple of weeks.

The main difference Hermione noticed was that most of their peers respected Harry now. Of course, he had always been the object of awe and wonder, but now he was respected because of who he was and the person he had become, not just because he was famous.

Hermione remained very concerned for her friend, though. She felt he was hiding so much more from herself and Ron. The past five years had taught her things she had never even known about herself, and now that understanding of themselves and each other brought the trio to a point where one of them didn't need to vocalise their concerns or worries in order for the other two to feel it. Therefore, there was no need push Harry into talking about his own concerns. He would come to them in his own time, as he had already shown he would.

In the meantime, Ron and Hermione had to show their support just by being near him, and walking away when Harry asked them to, or didn't, as may be the case. Their brief conversation at the theme park had been more difficult for her than she had realised at the time. Telling Harry about her own experience of losing her godmother had brought all that pain back, and it was the first time she had ever talked about it. But it mattered that day, because it was a way of making Harry see. And she hoped he'd seen.

However, Hermione was also very concerned about another relationship that had changed. She saw it in his face whenever he looked at her. Slight brushes of the hand gave her dizzying electric shocks and she knew that he felt the same, even if nothing had been said. But, of course, three is a crowd, and when you fall for one of your best friends, it makes for a tidal wave of problems. What happens to the odd one out? It wasn't a good time to be risking one friend for the sake of another; they all needed each other and they had to stick together. So any type of relationship, for now, was out of the picture. Just until things had settled.

But it had all happened quite by accident.

Over the past few years, it had seemed obvious to her that Ron liked her. She was intuitive like that. Over time, it had started to bother her, because he became too protective of her. Instead of saying the things he should have said, he caused rifts simply by not saying them.

Of course, there had been many fights and rows, some really quite embarrassing, and sometimes she just wanted to grab him and shake him and yell at him to tell her exactly what he wanted to say, and not skirt the subject with poor excuses. It was all very frustrating. But she couldn't deny to herself that over time, she had come to see the decency and charm that made Ron who he was and only recently she had found she liked it. A lot. His flustering over his feelings suddenly became quite sweet.

Their numerous arguments about Hermione's friendship with Viktor Krum had started to get repetitive and boring. A bit like Viktor, really, she thought. She and Viktor had been good friends, and nothing more. At the end of the Triwizard Tournament, Viktor had told Hermione he would like to be more than friends, but by that time, his initial mystique, dark good looks and quiet ways which would be more than a magnet for any girl, had started to grate on her nerves. Yes, he was very talented on the Quidditch pitch, but his mystique and quietness had just hidden the fact that he was actually incredibly boring with not a lot going on between his ears. And calling her 'Hermyowninny' just got infuriating. He just didn't 'get' her at all. Couldn't really make her laugh and he was just so serious all the time. He furrowed his eyebrows so much it always looked like he just had the one.

Any girl who's been attracted to the dark and mysterious type can tell you that the novelty of such a person wears off very quickly, as either they very rarely remain that way or don't actually have much personality. A girl wants someone to laugh with, someone who knows what she wants before she's even asked for it, someone who won't necessarily agree with her all the time or let her win at games, and most importantly of all, one who can actually pronounce her name.

Someone like Ron.

And so, Hermione had sent Viktor Krum back to Romania, only writing the occasional letter out of a sense of dutiful friendship, because that's what she had said to ease the blow. Although, she had to admit that writing those letters was very therapeutic.

Over the most recent summer, things had thus developed between herself and Ron. Granted, it had happened painfully slowly, and any observer would have smacked some sense into them by then, but it had happened, in its own time.

When Ron and Hermione had had to put their petty squabbling behind them to support Harry, they had found Harry withdrawn and silent. She had tried to talk to him, Ron had tried to talk to him, but when neither could get a response from Harry, they had fallen and hit the ground - to find each other.

Ron had matured over the summer, it seemed, and had reached a point where he was far more calm and serene, willing to talk rather than accuse. The events of the summer had affected them all deeply and now they felt they truly were on the cusp of adulthood.

Harry's long absences had forced Hermione and Ron into sharing their feelings. At first, their concerns were for Harry and their conversations revolved purely around Harry, Sirius and the events at the Ministry of Magic. They had also realised that there was more to it all than Harry was letting on, but they knew better than to push.

They had hinted and suggested their presence would help him, but it seemed that Harry would never want their help and, after a while, the conversations about Harry had dwindled into nothing. There was nothing left to be said, it had all been said before, and so they had started talking of other things: OWLs, gossip about other people, the mysterious Death Chamber. It eventually had led to talking about each other.

It had had to happen eventually. Two close friends can't talk about nothing forever before they eventually have to say what has to be said, what is on both their minds.

One day at Hermione's house, the day before they were due to go back to school, Harry had disappeared for quite a while, and Ron and Hermione had been sitting on a picnic blanket in her back garden, playing Wizards Chess. The conversation had started with the usual subjects, but when a companiable silence enveloped them, Ron had just blurted it out.

"Er, Hermione?" he had tentatively asked. "I think I really like you..." And at Hermione's questioning look, he had continued. "I mean, I really like you... er... as more than a friend." Then Ron had winced and looked away, blushing as red as his hair.

Hermione had looked blankly at him for quite a long while, and although her face gave away no emotion, she couldn't deny to herself that his confession, although a long time coming, made her heart jump. She continued to stare at him before Ron's embarrassment got the better of him and he stood up to go into the house. "I'm sorry, please don't laugh, I didn't mean... I'm just, er, going inside..."

But as he had started standing up, Hermione had reached up and grabbed his hand, pulling him down next to her. "Why didn't you ever tell me before?" she had asked him, well aware of the answer. But, of course, he had to say it himself.

And so Ron confessed he had had feelings for Hermione for a while, but hadn't realised what he should do about them. He was confused, he'd said, wanting her as a friend more than anything else, but couldn't help feeling jealous at times and feeling that there could be something more. He had never wanted to admit it to himself, let alone Hermione, but now, it seemed, it felt right to be telling her, whatever the outcome.

Hermione, in turn, confessed she'd suspected all along, and at first was rather put out that he wouldn't just come out and say whatever it was he felt, as it seemed to affect their friendship anyway. But after his explanation, Hermione said she couldn't hold it against him. She said she hadn't quite felt the same about him, and Ron had looked downcast at this point, but he had brightened when she had said that she felt her feelings had been changing and although she wasn't sure what she felt for him, it definitely felt like more than friendship. And then she smiled warmly at him.

At this point, Ron had covered Hermione's hand with his own, and she had looked down, a little shocked at such an open form of contact from Ron, of all people, but then smiled up at him as the warmth from his hand spread through hers.

The talk had continued for a long time, with still no sign of Harry. Ron and Hermione had agreed that they liked each other as more than just friends. But they had both also agreed that Harry could be a problem. Not because they thought he would be jealous at all, but they were worried that they would end up being so caught up in each other, that they wouldn't see Harry, who quite obviously needed them, even though he might not be saying it yet.

They had talked and talked until the sun had started to set. And they could only come up with one solution. And it was to do nothing. Starting a relationship in secret would only cause heartbreak for those whom they kept it from and make things worse in the long run. It would be better to do nothing at all. And so, Ron and Hermione had agreed that maybe, one day, when Harry was finally happy once again, they could do something about their feelings for each other. They were both sad about it, but they felt they had to be loyal to Harry before turning again to each other. They both valued their friendship with each other and Harry too much to risk any of those friendships at the moment.

Maybe one day....

And so, before the end of their talk, they had shared a single, lingering, tender kiss, one that neither wanted to pull away from. A promise for the future. They had then packed up and moved into the house to wait for Harry, wanting to hold hands on the way in, but unable to bring themselves to start something they might not be able to stop.

And since that late afternoon, only a few days ago, Ron and Hermione had shared a deeper something. Hermione thought it may have been awkward between them, but it was better than before. They had something to look forward to, and the looks they now shared conveyed so much more than anyone could have ever realised.

On the first Friday evening of the new term, Hermione climbed the steep steps of the Astronomy Tower for her practical Astronomy lesson. She couldn't help but smile to herself when she imagined that Ron was with her, although no one in the class was happy about the allocated day for their practical lessons, though they did get Friday afternoons off to compensate for it.

When Hermione reached the top, she noticed that she was the first to arrive, although there was some suspicious scuffling noises in a shadowy corner before the sound of giggling voices disappeared down the stairs behind her. The Tower remained in darkness, two gargoyles standing watch over the school grounds and gossiping to each other.

As Hermione started to set up her telescope, she looked up to see the clear night sky with its millions of stars. She could never quite get over how many were up there, most of them not even existing anymore. It made her feel small and insignificant; she felt humbled by the constellations and the wonders of Mother Nature. That was why she liked Astronomy so much and had decided to keep it up this year. She found the mix of science and the mysterious unknown fascinating to behold.

Turning back to her telescope, she realised she had finished setting it up with barely a second thought; she was so used to it. She turned to her bag to pull out some parchment and quill in preparation for the lesson, but caught a glance at her watch and noticed that she was actually twenty minutes early for the lesson. People wouldn't be here for at least another fifteen minutes or so.

She put her parchment and quill down on the stone ground and took a peek through the lens of the telescope and focussed it in to a certain star way up above and sighed. Sirius. The Dogstar. She stared at the star for a moment through the lens, then turned it away to try to find it with only her eyes. It didn't take her long, but it was very faint.

Hermione moved closer to the ledge of the Tower and leant over the wall. She looked down onto the dark grounds below and thought of all the nights when herself, Ron and Harry had sneaked out after curfew to see Hagrid, hiding underneath Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

Hermione turned and sat down on the hard stone, leaning against the wall of the tower, and stared skywards once again. She leant her head against the cold, uneven wall, her arms casually resting on her knees, which were up by her chin, and wondered if the gargoyles would ever shut up. She supposed it might have been interesting if she could understand what they were saying. As it was, their surprisingly soothing language, the cool night breeze and her tiredness seemed to lull her into a doze as she stared at the huge sky above. Just as her eyelids seemed about to droop, something awoke her and she sat bolt upright.

What...?

She'd seen something. In the sky, among the stars. She couldn't say what it was, but it was almost like the canvas of stars had tilted, bending at both sides towards her. It was instantaneous, at that moment, between the eyes closing fully, and opening them wide again. Hermione wasn't even sure it had happened at all.

Hermione got up off the stones and stood up, hands on her hips, staring intently at the night sky, concentrating deeply. But nothing happened.

Hermione kept looking and staring, hoping to see the phenomenon again, but try as she might, the stars stayed exactly where they should.

All of a sudden, a babble of voices filtered up from the tower stairwell. Hermione came to her senses and came to the conclusion that she had just been tired; the mind can play funny tricks on those on the edge of sleep. She brushed the dirt off herself and wandered back to her telescope. She pretended to be fiddling with its knobs and lenses, but kept her head down as her classmates started taking out their own equipment.

Throughout the lesson, Hermione found it impossible to concentrate on the task at hand, and no matter how much she tried to reason with herself, she kept on using her telescope to look for any suspicious things in the sky.

By the end of the lesson, she noticed that she had completed barely any work and packed up her equipment, annoyed at herself for getting so caught up with what was probably just a micro-sleep dream.

By the time she had reached Gryffindor Tower with Neville, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who had all been in her Astronomy lesson with her, Hermione had forgotten all about the incident in the Astronomy Tower.

The common room was deserted. It was just after midnight and the burning embers of the fire still crackled as she made her way up to her dormitory, where she slept deeply with dreams of a cheeky smile and a loving touch to warm her throughout the night.

That Saturday, the trio met in the common room and headed down to the Great Hall for a late breakfast, and sat down with Ginny, Dean, Seamus and Neville at the table. Ginny and Dean were holding hands again. Ron frowned but didn't say anything in light of the deadly look Hermione threw his way.

Almost as soon as she had sat down, a brown barn owl flew down from the window ledge above and dropped the Daily Prophet onto her empty plate. It looked like it had been waiting for a while, as it pecked at her arm impatiently, until she had a chance to reach into her robes and put a knut in the owl's pouch, upon which it flew away again, satisfied it had done its job well.

Hermione reached for some toast and scrambled egg and took a sip of pumpkin juice before reaching for the Daily Prophet and unrolling it. Then she promptly spat the pumpkin juice out and dropped the paper onto the table. The few people still eating breakfast around the hall turned to look at her as she used the sleeve of her robes to wipe away the juice from her chin.

"Something interesting in the paper again?" Harry asked wryly.

Hermione just looked at him in astonishment and pushed the paper under his nose, taking a napkin to begin wiping the spilt juice from the table.

In big, bold type, screamed the headline, "SIRIUS BLACK: JUSTIFIED PUNISHMENT OR INNOCENT VICTIM? New evidence uncovers Black's innocence of the murder of twelve muggles and a wizard."

Hermione saw Harry freeze and her and Ron watched him intently as he scanned the article. His face changed from confusion to deep concentration, frowning and then just a blank look as he came to the end. When he had finished, he pushed it back towards Hermione, his face totally unreadable. Harry leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, before muttering to himself, "Too little, too late....", before getting up from the table and marching out of the hall doors.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other worriedly and huddled closer to read the article.

Under the banner-line it continued:

Sirius Black, the infamous murderer who escaped from Azkaban Prison three years ago, has been cleared of all charges relating to the public murder of twelve muggles and Peter Pettigrew fifteen years ago, the Ministry of Magic has confirmed.

A Ministry Spokeswizard reported to the Daily Prophet that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry, has produced new evidence that clears Black's involvement with the events of that tragic day and merely frames him as the guilty party.

Black had been in hiding since his escape from Azkaban and was involved in the events at the Ministry of Magic six weeks ago. As we reported after the events, Black's death, as a result of that night, is shrouded in mystery but the Ministry has now revealed that Black was fighting alongside Dumbledore when He Who Must Not Be Named stormed the Ministry building, not against him. His death occurred somewhere in the Ministry itself, although the Ministry Spokeswizard will not reveal how or where exactly, or by whom.

Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, said this morning, "Albus Dumbledore is a trusted and respected member of the Wizard's Council and has produced critical evidence that demonstrates Black's innocence. All charges against Black have been dropped and an investigation is now underway to find the real culprit behind the murders." When asked if they had a new suspect, Fudge only answered, "We do have a suspect as a result of this new evidence, but at this time it would not be prudent to name names."

Although the Ministry will not reveal the nature of the new evidence, they did admit that they may have been hasty in their conviction of Black all those years ago. A trial was never brought in for Black, but now that his name is cleared, the wizarding world cannot look to history and name him as a murderer of innocent victims.

The Daily Prophet says: "Another person's crime left Sirius Black trapped in Azkaban Prison, thinking he would never see freedom. His own bravery stood tall when he escaped, an understandable course of action in the face of such an existence, one which he had had to bear for twelve years already. Three years in hiding only proved to keep him even more imprisoned. To stand alongside those who persecuted him, throw away any bitterness, and fight on the side of good against You Know Who, proves that this man deserves our respect and admiration. He died nobly."

Hermione looked up from the paper and stared over to the doors of the Great Hall.

"What is it?" Seamus asked. "What's going on?"

"Here," Hermione replied absently, passing him the paper. "Sirius Black was Harry's godfather. He saw him die that night."

At Seamus and Dean's shocked looks, Hermione simply turned to Ginny and Neville and gave them looks that silently asked them not to reveal anything too personal about Harry and what had happened that night to anyone else. Ginny gave an imperceptible nod to show she understood.

"I think we should..." Hermione gestured to Ron.

"Yeah," Ron said quietly, understanding her gesture.

They both stood up and walked out of the Great Hall.

"Where do you think he is?" Hermione asked.

"Dunno. Common room, I guess," Ron replied.

The two headed to the Gryffindor common room, but there was no sign of him there or in the dormitory. Nobody had seen him so they decided to have a look around the grounds of Hogwarts and check with Hagrid.

They headed downstairs towards the gargantuan front doors and outside to walk around the castle. As they reached the greenhouses, with still no sign of Harry, Ron took hold of one of Hermione's hands. Initially, she thought to pull it away, then thought better of it and surrendered to his comforting touch.

"Look, there he is!" pointed Hermione with her free hand.

In the distance, they could see a lonely figure flying around the Quidditch pitch, diving towards the ground, then pitching up just as he was about to hit the ground.

Holding Hermione's hand tightly, he pulled her along at a near run towards the Quidditch pitch. As they reached the closest stand, they saw Harry glance in their direction, and Ron quickly dropped Hermione's hand. Harry seemed to have a moment's indecision as he paused in mid-air, then he swooped down and landed effortlessly on the grass part of the pitch and strode directly to the broomshed. Ron and Hermione chased after him and caught up just as Harry was locking his Firebolt in its compartment alongside the rest of the Gryffindor brooms. His hand paused briefly on the Firebolt before letting his fingers fall away, and Hermione saw a momentary melancholy look on his face. Then he turned and closed the shed door.

Harry turned to his friends and saw the pleading look in their eyes. And then he walked away, back towards the school. Ron and Hermione walked quickly alongside him and Hermione thought he might tell them to go away, but just as she thought that, Harry blurted out: "Much too little, and much too late."

"Well, it's something. Now people will know that Sirius was innocent. We don't have to pretend anymore," Ron said.

"I don't care what the Ministry has said." Harry rolled his eyes. "It's Dumbledore I'm talking about," Harry replied.

"But that's..." Ron started.

"Dumbledore doesn't have any new evidence. Not without Wormtail's cold dead body," Harry interrupted flatly. "What Fudge says is all lies; he's just doing whatever Dumbledore tells him to do now. If Dumbledore says something, well, then, it must be true!" he shouted, starting to get angry.

"But he cleared his name..." Hermione said gently.

Harry stopped very suddenly and faced Hermione head on. "Why do you think he's done it, eh? So Sirius can walk freely? Hardly think so, do you? Sirius is dead. He's not coming back. Clearing his name served no purpose whatsoever but to try to gain my forgiveness." He started laughing manically and waved his arm about. "But, oh, no. I see through it now. And it's not going to work." Harry was practically shouting by now, but just as Hermione thought he was about to lash out, he turned and marched towards the castle.

Hermione just stood looking at Ron for a moment, disbelief suspending any thought progression.

Then they rushed to follow, but Harry was moving too quickly for them, and they didn't catch up until they were inside the castle doors. Then he turned again and almost yelled: "Merlin's beard, can't you two leave me alone just for once?!"

As Harry ran up the stairs, Hermione turned and slumped on the bottom stair, leaning her head against the banister. Ron came over to sit beside her and put his arm comfortingly around her shoulders. She moved her head to lean against his shoulder instead, well aware that her eyes were becoming brimmed with tears. There they sat in silence for a few minutes, before they started noticing that people were looking at them curiously as they passed.

"Come on," Ron said quietly, and helped Hermione up. "Let's go somewhere else."

Ron guided her up the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room. "He doesn't mean it, you know," he soothed as they walked along.

"I know, but it's so frustrating! We've tried everything!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I know it's taking time, but he will come round. Harry knows that we're here when he needs us. He might be a bit of an arse now, but it's only his anger talking."

Hermione looked up at Ron, briefly noticing how tall he seemed to have become. "When did you become so astute?" she asked, a reluctant smile playing around her mouth.

Ron shrugged at her and broke into a grin. "Come on, you." He rested his arm around her shoulder as they walked along, but hadn't moved two feet before Hermione stopped dead in her tracks.

Cold needles shot down Hermione's back and her blood froze as an eerie feeling of dread pervaded her senses. She knew something wasn't right and stopped in her tracks. "I think we need to find Harry."

"Maybe we should just leave him alone this time."

"No, I have a bad feeling about something. We have to find him."

Ron balked at Hermione's increasingly frightened face. She was wringing her hands and looking around frantically.

"Come on, I think I have an idea." This time, Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and pulled him up the stairs to the seventh floor, where she proceeded to head towards the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. She walked past the opposite wall three times, concentrating hard on wanting to find Harry, then approached the door that suddenly appeared in front of them. She hesitated briefly, looked at Ron, then turned the handle.

When the pair of them walked in, the first thing that hit them was the wind. It was absolutely freezing in that room, and they pulled closer together to fend away the biting wind. As they squinted around, they noticed the starkness of the room. There was no furniture and the howling wind seemed to be coming in from the two windows that were left wide open.

The floor was made of gravel and sand, and the wind was blowing it up in swirls. Hermione had to hold her hand over her mouth to stop from breathing it in. Ron tried to close the windows, but they were banging around threateningly, so he gave up.

Through the dust, Hermione saw a figure huddled over in the corner, hugging his legs to his chest. He was jerking about, as though convulsing, and he hadn't appeared to have noticed the intruders.

"Harry?" Ron yelled over the wind, but the figure in the corner didn't look up.

Hermione rushed over to Harry and bent down over him. Her heart broke when she heard his racking sobs.

She looked up at Ron, tears in her eyes. Hermione put her arms around Harry, pulling his head down to her chest. There, he continued to howl until the wind started to die down, Hermione rocking him back and forth. When it was safe enough, Ron rushed over to close the heavy windows, then returned to sit next to the huddled pair. Hermione thought Ron looked a little awkward, unsure of what to do or say.

Hermione had a vague realisation that the Room of Requirement could be used in that way; a reflection of what Harry felt as opposed to something he actually wanted. But it was a fleeting thought in her analytical and naturally curious brain.

After what felt like eternity, Harry's sobbing died completely, but he didn't stop shivering uncontrollably. Eventually he wiped his face with his dirty hands and looked up at his two best friends, looking a little shocked at their presence that he hadn't really noticed before.

"I'm sorry...." He started falteringly.

"No need..." Hermione said softly, and after a pause, she reached for Ron's hand to pull them both up. She gave him a grateful smile and all together, they left the Room of Requirement and wandered back to the common room in silence. When they got there they gratefully found it empty, most people out enjoying the last warm sunshine of the year.

Ron and Hermione guided Harry to the nearest squashy sofa and dropped him into it, where he curled up and stared blankly ahead. She and Ron sat together on the adjoining sofa, where Ron put his arm around her shoulders in silence as Harry's eyes drooped closed in emotional exhaustion. She curled into Ron's body, barely aware of his fingers lightly stroking her shoulder.

Hermione worried desperately about Harry. She worried about what could have happened if she and Ron hadn't found Harry when they did. She worried for his future. A future written for him. What else could they do to help him? What more could possibly happen to Harry before he broke completely?