Occultus

Some Corners Occupied

Harry was visibly frazzled as he took he took his place at the ancient dining table with the others after some freshening up. He merely nodded and said a few hellos to all the people, whether he knew them or not. After a hearty breakfast the elder Order members rounded up for a meeting and she could see the unsubtle look of surprise that flitted across her best friend's face as he saw Snape join the others in the meeting room.

What she was loathing was the time after their breakfast. She knew for sure that Harry would round up her for questions as soon as she ended up her meal and went back upstairs. Around her various people were interacting jovially with Harry. Now that their mother wasn't in sight, Fred and George were excitedly telling him about their various joke ideas. However, she noticed that he was talking half-heartedly. She knew that Harry was furious at them for withholding information.

Beside her, it seemed that Ron was having the same ideas. As for Isaac, she couldn't say anything. He had merely exchanged brief introductions with Harry and then calmly carried on with his meal. It was almost as if he knew Harry for quite some time now. In fact he hadn't displayed any set of pathetic emotions that most people tended to display when they met her best friend, the Harry Potter for the first time.

Who are you, Isaac Noigna?

However all thoughts of the quiet boy vanished from her head as she heard the various scrapings of the wooden chairs on the ancient floor as they were pushed back by the people standing up. She quickly stirred out of her musings and gathered her wits for what she supposed was going to be a fiery and fierce argument and accepted her future defeat with resignation.

As soon as they reached their spot upwards, Harry closed the door behind him.

"What did you two think, keeping me in the dark about everything?"

"Err... mate, look, Dumbledore specifically told us to not tell you anything and-"

Harry angrily cut him off. "Don't you call me your mate Ron Weasley! And what about you Hermione? Dumbledore told you the same thing, didn't he?", he asked, very livid as he turned towards her.

"Harry, please try to understand!", she said quietly.

But he didn't seem to have any of their pleas. "Oh no, you lot decide to not tell me anything because Dumbledore told you to withhold everything.", he spat venomously. "Do you know what it feels to be stuck at the Dursleys with nothing but just a Muggle television and the bloody incorrect Daily Prophet for news. Do you know what it feels to not know anything when that anything affects everything for you? No you don't. So stop trying to make me understand!"

"Please calm down Harry. At least now you're here. I suppose we both want to be forgiven. You can't even fathom how much we missed you.", Hermione said.

"She's right. We really missed you. Please forgive us", Ron supplied earnestly.

"Okay...I can't be angry with you two for long. Come.", he said as he opened his arms and the best friends shared a three way hug.

As soon as they pulled away from their embrace, he quickly asked, "Care to fill me in?"

"Why not matey."

They began telling him all about the Order and its dealings. When he asked about Snape appearance, they merely shrugged their shoulders and said that they had truly no idea on which side he was. And when finally it was all finished Harry jumped to the most important question on his mind.

"What had happened Hermione?"

She tensed up highly and her jaw twitched. Her outward calm appearance began to show the toil of pent up frustration. What was she supposed to tell them? That the Malfoys believed that she killed their son? That You-Know-Who was after her? That she had been forced to fly? That she had seen Draco dying in front of her?

That she had lost hope of ever finding love again?

No, she couldn't tell that.

"You know I can't Harry.", she said quietly.

"To hell with 'I can't'. Why can't you? Aren't we your friends? Don't you trust us?"

"No, it's not that. I swear. It's just that I am not ready to deal with what happened that day. I don't trust myself to keep calm."

"Okay, I won't ask you anything but just tell me one thing- was your disappearance connected to Malfoy's death?", he asked, suspicious.

Her brown eyes widened and she was nearly on the verge of tears.

Oh Draco! Why did you kill yourself? Draco why are you... dead? We could've escaped together...

"NO!", she cried, frustrated.

"Don't lie Hermione. I read the Prophet. You were gone the day he was murdered."

Suddenly the rickety door sprung open with a strange sound and in came Isaac. Harry quietened down and Hermione's eyes were full of thankfulness. Ron, however was quite indifferent.

"Am I disturbing a meeting?", he asked.

"Oh no. Come sit down.", Hermione said, very grateful inwardly.

"Very well indeed. I believe we haven't met properly.", he said to Harry. After a very short pause he continued, "My name is Noigna. Isaac Noigna.", he said confidently as he extended his hand. She couldn't help but think that she had seen that exact style somewhere. Harry thought the same but he didn't voice his views. They shook hands.

"Well... I am Harry." he replied in a normal voice.

"Good to meet you then, Harry Potter." Isaac grinned. Harry gave a half-smile to all of them which clearly indicated to his best friends that he would pick the matter at hand later and would not let go off it as easily as they had expected. Hermione got up quickly and excused herself out, eager to get away. She was unaware that somebody had followed her too.

She went down the stairs and then headed for the abandoned section of the house. Hermione knew all the rooms by heart and quickly found what she was looking for– the practically ancient music room which contained an ancient piano. She always came down there to soothe her nerves, knowing that nobody would try to pry on her.

Well... She didn't know that Draco Malfoy was alive.

And so as her nimble fingers touched the rusty keys, she didn't hear the slight creek of the wooden door as a certain disguised boy opened it a little to peer from the corner.