Returned From Superstition

Chapter Five

Harry and Hermione were sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, their favourite spot. She had a book resting on her lap, and he was trying to follow her explanations, but he had lost her when she began talking about the importance of Arithmancy and now they were already back to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

That was a subject he also did well, even better than Hermione, who excelled in everything. The only thing she ever refused to know more about was Divination, but even then, when she compromised with the classes, she would study as fiercely as she could for Transfiguration.

That was Hermione, and Harry respected very much all the effort she put on school.

He just wasn't ready to follow her path.

She smiled, realizing Harry was somewhere lost in his own thoughts, and he wasn't hearing a word she was saying. "What do you think, Harry?"

"Think of what?" he asked in a hurry, embarrassed she would notice he wasn't paying attention.

"I've heard that Neville's greatest fear now is you with a crystal ball." She changed the subject dramatically, wondering if this would keep him focused.

Harry blushed and smiled, feeling humiliated. "It wasn't my fault, Trelawney was standing right behind me and I couldn't..."

"You couldn't what?" Hermione asked, truly wondering what it was. She had heard the girls talk about Neville feeling very distressed after talking to Harry in the fair, but no one really knew why.

"I couldn't predict him something happy, Trelawney was right behind me listening to every word I said!" He finally confessed.

"What did you say to him, Harry?" She was afraid of what she would hear, but she had to ask.

"I said his grandmother wasn't in good health, and Trevor being eaten by a dog would precede her death."

"You did what?!" Hermione exclaimed.

She couldn't believe it. How could Harry have done that? Not that she agreed on Ron and Harry lying and telling everyone their futures would be great without truly seeing it, but to predict something as serious as that just not to disappoint a teacher was too much.

"I can't believe you were so shallow."

That statement killed Harry. Actually, it was more the disappointment on Hermione's voice that killed Harry.

And now he had nothing more to say. He had looked for Neville after that to tell him it was a lie, that he hadn't seen anything, but Neville would always ran away any time Harry would get near him.

But Hermione's reaction to it was worse than his own. He wasn't happy about it, but he never felt so disappointed with himself - and that was because Hermione's disappointment touched him as nothing could.

He had learned to hear Hermione's point of view since his fourth year (he hadn't really paid attention to it before) but now it was more than that. It was more than the respect he felt for her and her friendship.

What mattered most was what she thought of him. And so it had been since the end of their fifth year.

He could even remember the exact day he felt that strongly for the first time. They were walking down at the lake a warm day in early May (Ron had stayed in the common room to party with Fred and George for it was their last year) and Hermione smiled and told Harry he would be ok, for he was a great wizard. The reason she had said that he couldn't remember - although he knew it was a strong reason, something that had bothered him for days until Hermione had said that. And the trust she had in him made him trust himself. And he had felt better because she was smiling.

It was crazy. What was happening to him?

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered, touching his arm, "I was too harsh."

He looked up to meet her eyes - those beautiful eyes - and she had tears in them.

"I had no right to say that, but what you've done..."

"Was terrible, and I know it." Harry sighed, feeling her hand on his arm and wishing she would never stop touching him. "You have all the right to say that. I've done something very foolish, and I'm sorry."

And there it was - the silence, while they would just stare at each other and say nothing at all, mostly because there was nothing more to say. And also because they were so entranced in each other they couldn't think of anything to say.

He raised his hand slowly, unsurely, but gathering the courage to touch her hair. It felt soft against his fingers, looking just like it had looked on that evening in the Yule Ball. He didn't know when exactly he started to notice, but now he noticed and already knew her by heart. And she was beautiful.

But as he touched her hair the moment broke - and Hermione rashly said, "Where's Ron? It's very late already."

Harry felt like a teenage boy while watching her take her hand off his arm, and taking his hand off her hair himself, both of them suddenly conscious of how close they were, but staring at the fireplace to avoid eye contact. He imagined he looked very stupid right then.

Then he remembered he was a teenage boy, so he had the right to look stupid. But to be absolutely honest, he had to confess he hated it. Not really the 'looking stupid' part. More the 'acknowledgement of his age' part.

"He left two hours ago," said Harry checking his watch. The last time he talked to Ron had been ten thirty, but his friend was already getting ready to leave. "He went to meet Padma."

Hermione took a deep breath, still uncomfortable with that subject, but soon she felt bad for something else. "Harry, did you realize he is spending less time with us lately?"

"Yes, I have." That was concerning Harry as well. "Since the night after the open day, he's been very far from us."

Harry and Hermione had already discussed the incident at the open day several times, and they had agreed that Ron had indeed seen something in the crystal ball. It wasn't usual for Ron to do such a thing, and he had been very angry afterwards. And he told them what had happened, how he had looked in the crystal ball to fake an awful prediction to Malfoy and he had seen an image taking form. And then another image, and another, and all of them had Ginny along with Malfoy. "And worst of all," Ron had told them that night, "is that they looked so happy. Can you believe it? Do you think Malfoy could ever make Ginny happy?"

They knew their friend too well to answer that question, and they weren't sure how to answer either, so they just remained silent. And Ron had just watched them look at each other and left, telling them he was too tired and needed to sleep.

And since that night, Ron had avoided contact with both of them. He would talk to them in the classes, and would joke at something when they'd meet in the corridor, but he was always with Padma now, and a group of Ravenclaws that seemed to adore him.

"Maybe it's the way the group treats Ron. They worship him," Harry said, remembering Padma's friends. "We just know him too well to treat him like that, but he likes the attention."

"Yes, it could be. Ron does seem to need attention sometimes, and I don't blame him for that, but... He never did that before." Hermione pondered. "He even broke up with me because allegedly it would ruin our friendship."

Harry took a deep breath, hurt for hearing Hermione confess for the first time that Ron had been the responsible for their break up. He couldn't understand why it hurt so much, but it did.

Maybe it was because he liked her too much to see her hurt, he thought. She was, after all, his best friend.

But there was also another best friend that maybe needed him, and he definitely needed to talk to Ron. So he just said, "Let's sleep, Hermione. If he isn't in his bed by the morning, I'll look for him in the Infirmary."

"The Infirmary?" Hermione asked, getting up and gathering her books to go to her room. "Why the Infirmary? Do you think Padma will exhaust him to death?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh with Hermione's mockery. "No, it's just that I have this feeling..." He indeed had a feeling. And it wasn't good. "Besides, if he isn't in his bedroom, where else could he be?"