Harry Potter and the Last Goodnight

"You're lying," Harry said flatly. Dumbledore's blue eyes pierced him from across the table. They were laughing at him. Taunting him.

"Are you just guessing, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned.

"No," he said defiantly. "I can see it's not true. I can tell."

"But my favorite flavor gumdrop has always been peaches and cream, ever since I was a child."

Harry frowned. Maybe he was telling the truth. Peaches and cream did taste really good. But he couldn't be distracted by his own logic. He concentrated harder. Soon he was seeing nothing but pools of deep blue. Darkening, deep blue. "No, sir. You're lying."

I can just tell.

Dumbledore grinned. "Well done, Harry. You're right. It's Lemon Leona."

Harry returned his smile, weakly. Even the easy stuff was giving him a headache. "I should have known it was something lemon."

"But the important part is that you didn't let that logic stand in your way." Dumbledore opened and desk drawer and pulled out a pouch of Bertie Blott's Every Flavor Beans. He set them on the desktop and offered some to Harry.

All of his Legilimency lessons ended with some sort of candy. Harry couldn't say he was disappointed, but he also noticed that the sugar seemed to help ease his mind. Though his last reading had been just for a bit of fun, the earlier lessons really wore him down. Sometimes he felt cross-eyed behind his glasses.

"All right, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes sir," he replied. "The candy, it's not just a reward, is it?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid not. The sugar helps breakup your intense concentration. Very similar to eating sweets after dealing with Dementors. Legilimency is very much a Dark Art, in some respects. It is treated with the same methods."

Harry was beginning to learn why. He had only been using Dumbledore as the subject of his lessons, which meant that he spent a long time staring at him each night. It was amazing how different Dumbledore's eyes looked each day. Sometimes they were old and wise, sometimes young and playful. He had even seen them sad and distant.

And on that particular night, when he had seen distance enter Dumbledore's eyes for the first time, it scared Harry. He had never seen him looking so sad. It wasn't even an old sadness-it seemed eternal. A sadness that covered ages.

But what startled Harry the most about that lesson was what he had seen in Dumbledore's eyes. Harry could only assume his mind had been weak that day, or Dumbledore would have never let Harry see what he saw.

It was only brief, for a moment, but when Harry recalled it, there were so many senses he felt from it, it could have lasted an hour.

There was a woman. She had long golden hair that flowed down her back, and it was soft and shiny. It felt like tiny strings of silk. Harry didn't know how he knew this, because he'd never seen the woman before, let alone touched her hair, but somehow he knew. Her eyes were gray and cloudy, and it was something that had bothered Dumbledore from the moment he'd met the woman. Harry could sense that it troubled him.

However, the cloudiness was reflected in his own eyes as he thought of her.

They were on a raft in a river. It was autumn, and the leaves had already fallen from the trees and were collecting on the banks. Some floated on the surface of the water, flowing downstream with their raft. Dumbledore, only a young man, stood on the raft, while the young woman sat in the center, cross-legged.

"Want to go for a swim?"

She's beautiful. I could watch her. Forever.

But the woman didn't respond to his request. She watched the leaves in the water as they traveled together, down the stream.

Why is she always so sad? Why is she like this? What happened to her?

"Are you just going to sit there all day? Don't you want to get in one last swim before winter?"

Suddenly, the woman stood up. She did look sad, but it was almost in contemplation. She reached out and took Harry's-Dumbledore's-hand, and lifted it to her warm, rosy cheek. She spoke softly.

"I could spend winter drowning in your eyes."

And Harry found that though Dumbledore's eyes were quite deep, he didn't feel the same way. He had quickly recoiled from the bit of memory. But he still thought of it, and he could still hear her voice.

"Something on your mind, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. He had his hands folded on the desk, and was heavily focuses on Harry.

Now, more than ever, he saw how Legilimency was a burden. "Sir, I was just thinking... I... Well, I saw..." He was flustered. This was almost as bad as having to recall Snape's memory of his mother. Why did everyone remember only women? Why not Quidditch matches or Potions lessons? "Last week, I saw a woman. I didn't mean to. It just happened."

He didn't ask where. Harry assumed he knew what he was talking about. "What did she look like?"

"Long blonde hair, gray eyes."

"Ah... yes." His eyes seemed to return to that distant sadness. "She was quite a woman. You must have dug deep to find her."

"I-I'm sorry sir," Harry stammered. He didn't think that he knew how to dig deep.

"It's all right." A usual twinkle returned to his eyes, though not quite as bright. "I was only joking."

Harry was relieved, and thought about taking his leave. But he knew that now was the time to ask Dumbledore about something that had been bothering him. "Professor, can I ask you a question?"

"Certainly," Dumbledore replied.

"Why the special treatment?" When he looked confused, Harry continued. "Why are you allowing me to see Eva? I'm grateful for it, sir, but I just don't understand."

Dumbledore grinned. "Well, I think it is better than you sneaking off in the middle of the night to see her elsewhere." He said it harshly, but his eyes were kind. Harry tried not to smile. "And I feel that you have been punished enough lately. It's about time you were rewarded."

Harry got the impression he wasn't telling him the whole truth, but he didn't press anymore. He had been counting down the days until the next full moon, and he didn't want to mess anything up. "Thank you, professor."

Dumbledore merely nodded. "Also, your interview with Ms. Skeeter is to take place tomorrow afternoon in the Great Hall. Don't worry, it will be empty. And Harry, I don't think I need to remind you of the secrecy of our training."

"No sir," Harry replied. He hadn't said a word to Ron or Hermione either, though sometimes it killed him inside. He had to keep making up horrible things to say that Snape had done to him during Occlumency. Not that it was hard--he just didn't particularly like being dishonest with his two best friends. But if he was going to keep up the façade, he had to make it believable.

"We're all finished here," Dumbledore announced, putting the beans away. "Have a good night, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night," Harry replied. He got up from his seat and quickly left the hidden room behind Dumbledore's office, taking the back stairway instead of leaving through the main entrance. He still had a mountain of reading to do for Muggle Studies and he needed to polish off an essay for Tonks.

As he hurried up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, he heard two voices talking quietly in the corridor. Even though they were speaking in hushed tones, Harry knew it was Ron and Hermione. He walked down the hallway and saw them huddled behind a decorative statue. He knew he shouldn't spy on them, but the two hadn't noticed his presence yet.

"Ron, I'm so sorry. I really am. But it's the way I feel." She sighed. "Now is not the time to start a relationship. There's too much at stake. And we can barely function..."

"But it's already been started, 'Mione," Ron replied. Harry couldn't tell if he was whining or arguing with her. "I can't just turn it off."

"You have to."

"But why?"

"It's too hard." She took a deep breath and spoke quickly, like it was something she'd had on her mind for the longest time and had finally found the courage to speak it. "I know that you have strong feelings for me Ron, but even though you are the one person who is closest to my heart, it's not the same. I don't feel the way about you that you feel about me. It's not fair."

"It doesn't have to be fair," Ron said. "If we give it time..."

"That's just it. I need time. I need space. I need a break."

"You mean a breakup," he said sadly.

"No. Yes. No." Hermione groaned. "I know you don't understand. You don't have to understand. You just need to know that I can't kiss you anymore and I can't meet you in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom anymore. I can't accept gifts with hearts on them from you anymore."

"You're giving them back?"

Hermione grabbed her locket protectively. "No, of course not. I'm not saying I don't love you. I'm saying not now. The timing is wrong."

Ron looked down at the floor. "Fine. Have it your way."

"Don't be like that," Hermione said.

"How am I supposed to be?!" he cried. "I can't pretend that we never happened. I can't pretend that I don't want to grab you and kiss you every time I see you. I can't pretend that I don't think about cornering you in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom when I should be paying attention in class."

"Well, you have to start," she replied. "I know it hurts. It hurts me too. But I can't handle it all."

Harry knew that he had been listening in for far too long. He was hearing things he shouldn't. But he had always thought of Hermione as the strongest girl he knew--even stronger than Ginny. What couldn't she handle? Why was dating Ron causing so much stress for her?

"One day," she said somberly, "when this is all over, we'll try again. I promise."

"When it's all over?" Ron questioned. "That could be years! We could be dead!"

Hermione hushed him. "It won't be. I just know that I can't do this right now."

The two of them stood and stared at each other for what felt like eons to Harry. Finally, Ron looked away from her. "Timing is everything," he muttered. He turned his back on her and began walking away.

Hermione reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Don't go. Not like this."

Ron ripped his arm away from her. "You can't always have it your way," he spat. Stunned and stinging, Hermione watched as he stormed past her and into the common room.

Harry was afraid that he was going to watch Hermione crumple to the floor. He'd rarely ever seen her cry, and he could see tears forming in her eyes from where he was standing. But instead, she sniffled, wiped her eyes, and took a deep breath.

She really is strong.

Seeing that she had somewhat recovered from breaking Ron's heart, and out of fear that he would be spotted, Harry quickly came out from the shadows of the hallway and walked towards Hermione as if he he'd just come from the dungeon.

"Damn Snape," he muttered under his breath. "Hey, Hermione."

"Hi, Harry. Rough night?"

Not nearly as rough as yours, he thought. "Same as usual."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that I spread the word about D.A." She lowered her voice. "The coins are set. The meeting is this Friday evening at nine, right?"

"What?" Harry said. Friday night was the night before the full moon. Eva was coming. He couldn't have any plans. Dumbledore even gave him the night off of Legilimency. "I thought it was going to be Saturday night."

"But that's when the chess tournament is, remember? Ernie and Justin wouldn't be able to make it. I thought it would be okay to move it to Friday--unless you have plans or something." She raised an eyebrow at Harry. "I could change it."

"Uh, no. That's fine," Harry said quickly. It was better to avoid suspicion and confusion by not changing the time. He would just have to make the meeting a short one. Luna's plea for more meetings echoed in his mind, but he tried to ignore it. Eva was worth cutting one meeting short for.

* * *

When Harry and Hermione entered the Great Hall, Rita Skeeter was already there. She stood to greet them and flashed Harry a dazzling smile. "Where's your third wheel?" she asked.

"Third wheel?" Harry questioned.

Hermione sighed. "She means Ron. He's still in class." Harry suddenly began wishing that he, too, had signed up for the N.E.W.T. Herbology class. Then he could be listening to Professor Sprout's lecture instead of being interviewed.

"I see," she said, her smile brightening. "Well, have a seat Harry. Let's begin." She opened up her crocodile-skin handbag and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. Harry saw it was not just any pen, but her Quick Quotes Quill.

Harry Potter, now sixteen, has grown out of his gawky stage and is now a regular Hogwarts heartthrob with his brawny good looks and wild dark hair. Despite the numerous threats to his life, he has managed to escape unscathed, except for the scar on his forehead, given to him by the Dark Lord himself, which will simply never heal.

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. He hadn't really prepared something to tell Rita in the interview. There was no ground-breaking news - except for the escape from Azkaban. He was only going to tell her what Hermione had told him. He was just going to give a warning.

However, it appeared that Rita and her quill had their own ideas.

"So Harry, dear, how's your love life?"

"Excuse me?" Harry nearly choked on the air he was breathing.

Still quick to blush, Harry shies away from discussion of his personal life. But behind those sad green eyes, there is a mystery. Is there a secret love at Hogwarts for The Boy Who Lived?

"No!" Harry shouted. "What are you doing?"

"We talked about this," Hermione said firmly. "This interview is over if you continue this line of questioning. We're here to talk about Voldemort."

Rita flinched at the sound of his name. Harry watched the quill.

Perhaps she is the sharp-tongued Hermione Granger, best friend and fellow classmate. Rarely seen apart, the two have been friends since their very first year at Hogwarts. Two years ago, it was rumored that these two were quite an item until...

"It was a rumor you started!" Hermione cried, knocking the quill off the pad of paper. It fell onto the floor with a thud. "Rita, you can't print that garbage!"

"Don't ever touch the quill!" Rita cried. She got on her hands and knees and pick up the quill. She examined it, mumbling about how impossible it was to replace.

Harry didn't argue. He was about to tell Hermione to just let it go. What did it matter if people thought he was seeing her? Those rumors were old news. And she and Ron were on a break. Mrs. Weasley may be a little upset when she saw the article, but...

Oh no.

Mrs. Weasley would see the article for sure, which meant that she would most definitely pass it on to Eva. And if Eva saw this article about him shacking up with Hermione at school, Harry didn't want to even begin to think of how betrayed she would feel. Ginny was right. Any girl who was dating him--or even rumored to be dating--was going to be in the public eye.

While Harry had been lost deep in though, Rita and Hermione were still arguing. "You've got to sell some copies, Hermione!" Rita cried. "There's got to be something juicy. No one's going to read it if there's no story..."

"It's not Hermione."

Rita abruptly stopped shouting at Hermione and turned to face Harry, her eyes shining. Hermione's mouth dropped open. "What are you saying, Harry?" Rita asked.

"Yes, just what are you saying?" Hermione echoed.

"My secret, er, love. It's not Hermione." Harry took a deep breath and tried to collect himself. What the hell was he getting himself into?

Rita's thin lips curved into a broad smile. She licked the quill and set it back on the pad of paper in her lap. "Go on, Harry. I'm listening."

* * *

"Excellent job, Luna," Harry said, watching Luna as she performed the Incarcerous spell. "I think you've mastered it."

Luna grinned. "Ron's an easy target."

Ron was pinned up against the wall, his hands twisted behind his back with think ropes of restraint. "No fair!" But he laughed when he said it, and Harry thought he was rather enjoying being partners with Luna for a change. She was good for him. She made him laugh.

The D.A. meeting was nearly drawing to a close. Harry already had them practicing banishing charms, and they were closing with a new spell that Professor Leurre had taught them to restrain captives. He was surprised how well everyone was doing, especially the younger students who hadn't learned the spell in class yet. He was impressed.

But there was uneasiness in the air of the Room of Requirement. Ron was paired with Luna, which was different, and everyone seemed to notice. Hermione was partners with Ginny; her usual spot beside Ron was taken. Ginny kept flashing looks at Luna and her brother, almost as if to ask them what the hell they were doing together, but both appeared to be oblivious.

All in all, it amused Harry. Hermione had clearly given Ron the brush-off, and even if she did it for noble reasons, it had broken a little part of his heart. It was nice to see him having a good time with Luna. He deserved it. It was innocent--all in good fun.

"Careful, Anthony," Harry warned, "or you'll end up breaking Terry's elbow."

Anthony Goldstein lowered his wand. Terry Boot, who was lying face down on the floor from the spell, sighed in relief. He slowly got to his feet. "I think you've got that one down," Terry said, rubbing his arm. Anthony swelled with pride.

"Nice job, everyone," Harry announced. "We're going to cut the meeting a little short tonight."

There were a few groans from his fellow classmates, but Justin Finch-Fletchley came over and gave him a pat on the back. "Thanks, Harry." He turned to face the rest of Dumbledore's Army. "Erine and I are in the Wizarding Chess finals tomorrow. We need to get a good night's sleep."

Harry was grateful he didn't have to think of an excuse himself. "All right, everybody. We'll leave the usual way. Ron and Hermione will be the lookout and..."

"Wait, Harry," Luna interrupted. All eyes turned to look at her. "When is our next meeting?"

"Well..." Harry's voice trailed off. He was just trying to play things by ear. He didn't have a set schedule. "How about the same time next Saturday?"

There were nods of agreement all around the room. Luna beamed Harry. "All right, so next Saturday, same time and place. We'll be working on the Incarceratus spell again, so be prepared."

The pairs dispersed and were separated back into their houses. Hermione and Ron stood by the door and let the first pair go. Harry glanced at his watch. He only had ten minutes before he was supposed to meet Dumbledore, and hopefully Remus and Eva as well. He was just about to ask them if he could leave with the next group when he saw Cho approaching him. Harry gulped. She as still as beautiful as ever, and had enough power over him to make him nervous.

"Harry, can I speak to you for a moment, please?"

He hesitated. "I'm... I'm kind of in a hurry."

"It will just take a few minutes of your precious time," she snapped.

No, Harry decided, she didn't look quite as nice when she was angry. Not the way Eva blushed with her hot Irish temper. "What is it?"

She took a step toward him and lowered her voice. "It's about Michael and Marietta. I just want to know if you're going to give them a second chance or if you're just going to keep dancing around the subject."

"I can't trust them," he said simply. The answer to this question seemed clearer to him than before. Why did they deserve second chances?

"But you can," Cho insisted. "I know you can. They made mistakes. We all do."

Harry sighed. "They have to prove it."

"How?" she questioned.

He shrugged. There was no way to tell what they were thinking. He would practically need a polygraph test to determine if they were truly trustworthy or not. Where was he going to get one of those?

And then it hit him. He was a human lie detector. Practically every lesson with Dumbledore was trying to determine whether or not he was lying. But could he use it on Michael and Marietta? Would that jeopardize the contract he signed? Could he lose his license?

But it was worth a shot. And at least it would get Cho off his back.

"Fine. I'll meet with them next week," Harry declared. "I've got a few questions to ask them before they can come back."