Magic Never Dies (Harmione)

Chapter 13

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The next day was national pretend-no-one's-home-and-recoup day at #12 Grimmauld Place. They all slept in and even Hermione straggled down to the kitchen in her pajamas and a pair of unlikely fuzzy slippers. Harry cooked breakfast and they took it into the sitting room, conjured up an enormous pile of cushions and ate on the floor in front of the fireplace, unwilling to take their places around the kitchen table again just yet. Replete, Ron settled down to the Quidditch scores, Hermione to the front pages and Harry to the back of his eyelids. The only sounds for quite some amount of time were pages turning, the fire snapping and infant Fawkes cooing in his nest of ashes.

He hated to spoil the peace, but an idea had been pressing itself on Harry since the previous day and he felt it best to get it out.

"I don't think we can wait until All Hallows to visit Godric's Hollow," he said. "I think we need to go soon. Maybe even tomorrow, if we can manage it."

"Hmmm," said Ron absently.

"Why?" asked Hermione, because she was actually paying attention and didn't like his sudden sense of urgency

"I can't pin it down logically," he said slowly. "It's just a feeling, really. I mean I know we aren't supposed to go on my feelings after Fifth year and the Department of Mysteries and everything, but this is different. It's not a dream or a vision or anything like that; it's nothing to do with him. I just really feel like I need to, and soon; or something might be lost. And before you ask what," he said, raising his head and opening his eyes to meet hers, "I don't know."

Hermione was silent a moment, thinking about Ron telling her about their quest for the wand.

It was bloody amazing, Hermione,' he'd said. 'I mean Harry's just always been Harry, right? It's sort of like what Snape said is almost true, not the way he meant it, you know, but there's been an awful lot of luck going on. He's always where he needs to be because his heart's in the right place, but like fourth year when the TriWizard cup turned into a Portkey, he was just lucky he didn't come back like Cedric. It's like there was always something or someone looking out for him.

But today, I don't know, it was fantastic. I know he spent a lot of time with Dumbledore last year, but he always made it sound like they were just traveling around in the pensieve watching Tom Riddle. I didn't think he'd learned all that much else. Hermione, he knows all this stuff about blood magic and reading hidden spell signatures and all kinds of spell structure they never came close to in school and I'm willing to bet they're not covering this year, either.'

She wanted rather desperately to see that for herself; she was deeply curious, had been thinking about it ever since Ron told her. He had seemed to her, aside from his newfound ability to express himself physically in ways that could make her shiver, pretty much...Harry. Was something actually changing within him? What Ron was talking about had been before the horcrux in the wand had come into play. What if that changed things? Threw off the balance of something Lily had set into motion? Was she, Hermione, helping Lily protect her son, or fumbling in her own efforts and helping Voldemort instead?

"Okay. Tomorrow's good," she told him.

His eyes closed again in relief, his head dropped back against the pillows. "Thanks."

She was about to shift from the Prophet to her book of the moment when the flames of the fire turned emerald green and a head popped into view.

"Ah, the life of the unemployed, Fred," it said.