1997

“Another slice of melon?” Harry asked lazily, dangling a piece of the green fruit in front of Levi’s snout. The kylaria took it between his teeth and resettled himself on Harry’s stomach. A drop of juice splotched Harry’s shirt as Levi crunched.

“Lucky for you I have nowhere to go,” Harry said with a playful scowl. Levi swallowed his snack and nuzzled Harry’s breastbone. “Yeah, yeah, you’re forgiven.” His fingers trailed along the spiny neck and Levi began to purr.

“Don’t tell my dad,” he said with a half-smile, “but I think I could get used to this; he thinks I’m going spare here with nothing to do but brood about Ginny.”

“I miss her loads, yeah,” Harry said with a sigh. “I didn’t think I could miss her as much as I do-” Harry swallowed, shrugging as Levi’s gentle eyes blinked. “I don’t know when I’ll see her. We’ve been sending letters but she never really says much. Neither do I, I suppose.”

Levi’s golden eyes were soothing and his soft purring was making Harry feel rather drowsy. The door opened then though and Severus stepped in from the corridor. He paused when he found Harry in the same place he’d left him three hours ago.

“Are you feeling unwell?” he asked, eyeing the striped pajamas that Harry had slept in.

“No,” Harry said with a shrug.

Severus hung his robes on his peg. “Would you like to take lunch in Diagon Alley with Daniel? I think it is time you dressed for the day,” he said.

“Not really hungry,” Harry said as he selected another juicy melon slice from the plate beside his head and offered it to Levi.

“Would you like me to rephrase that?”

Harry looked up at his father, who was currently upside down, but that didn’t make his eyebrow look any less impressive. Harry sighed and nudged Levi off his chest. “All right,” he mumbled.

Levi took refuge in his cave and Harry trudged off to his bedroom, thinking his father might at least have had some sympathy for his pathetic Ginny-less plight.

He was still sulking by the time he came back into the sitting room, and he wasn’t inclined to pretend otherwise. Severus watched in amusement as he cinched his trainers with his lips pursed in a sullen frown.

“What’s so funny?” Harry groused as he straightened up.

“You remind me of your mother when you scowl like that.”

“Oh.” Harry gave up quickly and smiled at his father. “You do that on purpose, don’t you?” he said with a shake of his head as he preceded Severus out into the corridor.

“Quite possibly.”

“Where are we having lunch?” Harry asked, after sending his father another scowl; this one without heat. His father shook his head, amusement still clear in his dark eyes.

“There are several dining establishments in Diagon Alley. Whichever suits you will do,” he said.

“I’ve never eaten there… well, except The Leaky Cauldron and Fortescue’s.”

Severus quickly amended, “Other than both of those, whichever suits.”

Harry chuckled. “You don’t like either of those, Dad? Have to say, I would have thought Fortescue’s would be a particular favorite of yours.”

“Would you?” Severus returned dryly. “Given all the times you have seen me indulging in ice cream sundaes?”

“We could share one,” Harry suggested with a grin. “One of those massive ones that even the Weasleys can’t finish in one go.” His grin quickly faded as soon as he realized what he’d said. His throat felt dry as Severus smoothed the hair near the back of his neck.

“There is a small café near the apothecary,” Severus said. “Perhaps you would like to dine there?”

“Sure.”

Severus’ fingers squeezed the back of Harry’s neck lightly and Harry gave him a faint smile. They continued out of the main doors and found Remus just coming up the steps.

“Just seeing Tonks and the baby off,” he said by way of greeting. “They went to spend the afternoon with Andromeda.”

“We are on our way to Diagon Alley for lunch,” Severus said and Harry could feel his father’s eyes on him, even though he was staring out past the main gates. “Would you care to join us?”

Harry smiled a little, despite the burgeoning ache in his chest and turned to see Remus smiling as well.

“I haven’t left the castle since the end of term,” he said as they walked down the path together. “I think I almost forgot what the sun felt like.”

“You can bring Sirius outside, you know,” Harry said with another smile for his friend. “Babies like sunshine, or so I’ve heard.”

“I think age has made him a bit cheeky,” Remus said to Severus.

“He is nearly seventeen, as he reminds me on a regular basis.”

“And nearly ready to try for my Apparating License,” Harry pointed out.

“How are you faring in your practice sessions?” Remus asked as they passed through the gates.

“I haven’t splinched myself yet,” Harry told him, rather proud of the fact.

“You have an excellent teacher then,” Remus said. He glanced at Severus, his lips twitching. “Severus, if I remember correctly, splinched several minor body parts during lessons at Hogwarts.”

“Minor parts?” Harry echoed.

“An eyebrow and a few toenails … We were in the same group.” Remus explained, chuckling at Severus’ narrow-eyed glare. “Didn’t you lose half your pinkie as well?”

Severus made a dignified sort of harrumphing sound as he pulled Harry in close. “I do not recall,” he replied. And before either Remus or Harry could press for further details, he turned on the spot.

He and Harry reappeared a moment before Remus, all three of them materializing in front of Gringotts. They found not only Daniel waiting for them in the small café, but Margaret as well.

“I needed Kelpinea seeds,” she explained after the three men had greeted her. “Daniel invited me to come along. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Severus said, dipping his head. Margaret smiled and accepted the chair that he offered her. “Bone restorative?” he guessed as he sat across from her.

Margaret nodded. “Daniel is assisting with an improved recipe. It’s taken much longer than we had anticipated.”

“Kelpinea seeds are notoriously unstable,” Severus said, his brow furrowing in thought. “I have used them with some degree of success in a skin re-growth potion that Poppy stocks in her infirmary. I treat them with stink sap before they boil.”

“Do you?” Margaret leaned forward, her blue eyes intense. “The head of my department would be most interested in that technique.”

“Perhaps if you have time after lunch, Severus,” Daniel interjected, “you and Margaret might come back to my shop and show her the technique. And I myself would like to see it as well.”

“Certainly,” Severus said, taking no time to think about it, and Harry had the distinct impression that there wasn’t much his father would refuse his old mentor. Harry just hoped that no one would mind if he used the Floo to go back home.

Harry didn’t say much during lunch, though both his father and Remus pulled him into the conversation each time he grew quiet, asking him questions about his Quidditch practices or sharing anecdotes about the past school year. He answered politely and smiled where it was appropriate but all he wanted to do was climb back into his pajamas and curl up with Levi—this time in bed with a blanket pulled over his head.

After the bill was paid, Harry lagged behind the rest of the party, his hands buried deep in his pockets. “Do you mind if I take the Floo back home?” he asked his father quietly once they’d stepped out into the sunlight.

Severus frowned, turning a little so that Harry had to turn with him; away from the rest of the group. “I would rather you did not spend the remainder of the afternoon alone in our quarters,” he said in a voice low and filled with concern. “I will make arrangements to demonstrate the technique to Healer Blunt at another time.”

“I can stay and walk around a bit.”

Severus didn’t answer immediately, his eyes flicking up and down the busy street.

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Harry said, hoping he didn’t sound as irritated as he felt. It wasn’t his father’s fault, after all, that he was the Boy-Who-Defeated-Voldemort.

“I have no doubt that you are mature enough to be on your own,” Severus said quietly. “It is the potential threat of stray Death Eaters that concerns me.”

Harry sighed. “I’ll be able to Apparate on my own in less than a month.”

Severus quirked one of his dark eyebrows, looking only slightly amused. “Are you planning to use that privilege to go off on your own without permission?”

Memories of Apparating away with Sirius last December rose unbidden to Harry’s mind, even though his dad hadn’t meant it that way. He looked away, staring down the street as he shook his head. Severus didn’t speak right away.

“If you will allow me to place anti-Portkey and Apparition jinxes over you, I will not object,” he finally said. Harry nodded, not secure enough about the state of his voice to say anything. Severus applied the spells with swift precision.

“Thanks,” Harry said, grateful that he words were even when they emerged.

“I will meet you here in two hours,” Severus said. He placed both hands on Harry’s shoulders, his gaze holding Harry’s. “Ginny will come when she is ready.”

Harry nodded silently as heat crawled up his throat. “I know.”

His father squeezed his shoulders. “If you are not here in precisely two hours, it is very likely that I will alert the Aurors,” he said without a hint of jest.

“I’ll be here,” Harry promised.

“Contact me at any sign of trouble.”

“I will,” Harry said obediently, beginning to smile now in spite of his father’s solemn features.

“Avoid secluded places.”

“I will, Dad.”

Severus shook his head as Harry smiled. “Two hours,” he said firmly.

“Two hours,” Harry agreed.

Severus finally released the ever-tightening grip on his shoulders and stepped back.

Harry said his farewells to the other three adults and then gave his father an encouraging smile. “Have fun,” he said, to which Severus pursed his lips. Harry waved to the mismatched quartet and went down the street. His father was still watching him as he stepped into Quality Quidditch Supplies.

--

By the time Harry left the shop, he was wondering why he’d been so eager to be off on his own. Looking at the newest broom model, he realized, wasn’t nearly as much fun without Ron.

And there was nobody to create a diversion when the shopkeeper had suggested that Harry might wish to become the new spokesperson for his originally-designed Quidditch gloves. He’d finally had to mumble something about getting his father’s permission before slipping out the door.

He wandered aimlessly along the cobbled street, startled to find himself in front of the twins’ shop eventually. A place where he had always been welcome.

He could see George through the glass pane, demonstrating how to use a model of a fire-breathing dragon to a captivated boy. Fred was just coming out of the back room. Harry drew a quick breath through his nose as he saw who followed behind him.

Ginny.

Her arms full of boxes; her ginger hair falling over her face and shoulders as she tried to balance the precarious stack. Fred took it from her with a wave of his wand and paraded the boxes to a shelf off to the side, saying something over his shoulder to his little sister. She smiled—the expression wooden—as she nodded.

As soon as Fred was out of sight, the smile disappeared. She went back into the supply room, her beautiful face clouded with sadness. Harry swallowed through the lump in his throat and pressed himself back against the bricks and away from the large window. It should be so easy. He could just open the door and go inside. Tell Ginny that he didn’t care if she had snogged every wizard in Britain—he couldn’t stand another minute like this.

The door swung open before he could force himself to grip its handle and Harry found himself face to face with Fred.

“I thought I saw you standing out here,” he said.

Harry was a little surprised at the lack of animosity in Fred’s voice and it took him a moment to respond. “I was just walking by.”

Fred gazed at him for a moment. “You didn’t come to speak with Ginny?”

Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t know she’d be here.”

Fred’s eyebrows swept upward.

Battling a surge of irritation, Harry asked, “How would I?”

Something flickered in Fred’s blue eyes but then he shook his head. “Listen Harry, things are really tense around the Burrow. Ginny doesn’t smile anymore; she rarely even speaks to anyone and mum is beside herself with worry. And all of us feel awful about what happened; Ron especially.” Fred paused, his face pained. “I don’t think our house has ever been so quiet.”

It hurt to hear that and yet Harry had no idea why Fred was telling him.

Fred sighed. “I’m trying to apologize, Harry. George as well. And Ron would if he could see you-”

“Nothing’s stopping him,” Harry interrupted, brusque without meaning to be. And no matter how much he wanted things to go back to the way they had been before, he wasn’t just going to pretend that the entire Weasley family hadn’t tossed him away without a thought.

“Ginny’s miserable,” Fred said quietly. “None of us can stand to see her like this, Harry.”

“You think I wanted this?” Harry demanded hoarsely. “None of this was my idea, if you remember. It was your mum’s and probably all of you, with your threats that I’d better not hurt her.” Harry’s voice had risen a little but he went on anyway, “But it’s all of you who’ve hurt her, not me. And I won’t hurt her; not ever. She asked me to wait and so I’m waiting. And I’d appreciate it if you and your family would leave me the hell alone!”

He didn’t wait for a response from Fred. He pivoted away and fled down the street, not caring that half a dozen people were gawking at them. All of this would probably be in the morning papers. But Harry didn’t care.

He told himself that over and over as he veered away from the steps of Gringotts and found Diagon Alley’s Floo Center instead. He dropped a galleon into the waiting attendant’s palm and stepped into the nearest empty Fireplace without waiting for his change.

“Harry Snape’s home,” he croaked out as he threw down the powder. With a flash of green fire, Harry was spun away and spit out into his own sitting room a moment later.

Coughing and spluttering, he ignored Levi’s mad roaring from above. “I’m all right,” he finally managed to say when the soot was no longer clogging his throat. Levi perched on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck as Harry tried to wipe off the year’s worth of dust from his face.

Giving up, he reached out with his wisp for his father’s flame.

Are you all right?

Yes, Harry answered quickly and his father’s panic subsided. I used the Transport Center to come home. Nothing happened, he added as the flames flickered anew. I just wanted to come home.

Are you certain you are all right?

Yeah.

His father’s flames were uncertain, and Harry could sense the effort it took him not to insist that he explain what was wrong. He imagined he could feel the sigh through their connection.

I will be home within the hour.

Harry slumped into the nearest chair as soon as he was again alone with his thoughts. He stroked Levi’s cold scales absently and decided he was really angry. Angry at Ron for being such a berk—in a thousand different ways, angry at all of the Weasleys for not being the family he had thought they were, and angry at Hermione for pushing Ron away in the first place.

But more than any of them, he was angry with Ginny. He’d been angry with her for weeks now, he finally realized. He just hadn’t allowed himself to admit it. If she was so miserable, why wouldn’t she just tell him she wanted everything to be as it had been?

Didn’t she know he’d take her back in a heartbeat?

And why hadn’t he just gone inside the twins’ stupid shop and told Ginny how much he loved her? He should have. He should have wrapped her in his arms and kissed her until she forgot why she was so afraid.

Furious at himself now as well, Harry went out the pitch, where he flew faster and harder than he ever had before—so fast that Levi had difficulty keeping up with him. He spun his broomstick in ways that were much too wild but he didn’t care. Not even when he nearly fell off half a dozen times. And when Harry’s legs began to protest the punishment, he came to a skidding, wobbling halt against the ground, panting and dripping with sweat. Levi collapsed on his shoulder, winded.

“I believe I have asked you more than once to leave a note when you leave our quarters.”

Harry’s head jerked up. His father was sitting on one of the benches where the teams usually sat during the captain’s speech and he looked extremely displeased.

Before Harry could mumble an apology, Severus asked, “What happened that you felt the need to fly so recklessly?”

“I wasn’t-”

“Do not insult my intelligence, or my eyesight,” Severus interrupted in a steely voice. “You were careening around up there like a man with a death wish.”

Harry had to look away from the dark gaze. “I saw Fred,” he said quietly. “Talked to him.”

“What did he say?” Severus demanded, his voice darkening with renewed anger.

Harry shook his head; he couldn’t answer that. It didn’t matter what Fred had said. All that mattered was that he was even angrier with Ginny than he had been before he started flying.

“Whatever he said distressed you enough that you disregarded your own safety,” his father said, the worry dominating his voice now.

Harry smiled wryly even though he was still staring at Hogwarts’ in the distance. “I think we both know I don’t need to be distressed to do that.”

“I do not care for your flippancy.”

Harry pulled his eyes from the towering castle, grimacing when he saw the scowl on his father’s face. “Sorry.” He shifted restlessly as Severus continued to gaze at him. “I just miss Ginny,” he finally said. “And Fred said she was unhappy.”

“I do understand that this is a very difficult situation,” Severus said, the sharp planes of his face softening. “And I realize that hearing about Ginny’s unhappiness is hurtful, but screaming around the pitch with such abandon will not solve anything—as you well know.”

“Nothing will solve anything,” Harry muttered, sinking down beside his father. “If Ginny is so miserable-” He shook his head. He didn’t want to rehash this. “Flying felt good,” he admitted into the silence as he unconsciously imitated the way Severus was holding himself; palms flat against his legs. He slid his eyes toward his father when there was no response.

“I should have gone into the twins’ shop,” he went on, and wondered briefly when he had decided to tell his dad the particulars. “I think Fred wanted me to.”

Severus’ eyebrows rose. “Did he?”

“He apologized. Tried to apologize for Ron as well.”

“I take it you did not accept?”

“I’m not accepting an apology on Ron’s behalf,” Harry said, kicking at the grass with his toe; Levi’s wings fluttered against his shoulder. “If he wants to apologize for being a giant tosspot, he’s going to have to do it himself.”

“And Ginny?” Severus asked. “Are you waiting for Ginny to apologize as well?”

Harry looked up sharply. “Of course not.”

“No? You are not angry with her?” Severus returned, his voice too even.

Harry wanted to accuse his father of being infuriating but he simply sighed again. “It’s stupid to be so angry. She can’t help the way she feels.” He frowned. “And I would never ask her to apologize for it.”

“Then why did you not speak with her?”

“She asked me to wait,” Harry reminded his father. “And you told me I should as well,” he pointed out, indignant.

Severus ignored Harry’s accusation as he asked seriously, “You fear her rejection?”

“Well, shouldn’t I?”Harry asked bitterly.

“It is possible that Ginny will reject you,” Severus agreed and Harry made a face.

“Thanks loads for the encouragement.”

Severus studied Harry’s face, not looking chagrined in the least for his blunt assessment. “It is also possible,” he said quietly, “that she is just as fearful of being rejected as you are.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped. “That just leaves us in the same place we’re in now. Ginny asked me to give her space.” He huffed in frustration. “How am I supposed to know if she’s had enough?”

“That I cannot answer,” Severus said, his lips turning down a little.

“Only Ginny can, yeah,” Harry mumbled. They sat together, listening to Levi’s soft purring for several long minutes. When Harry finally pushed up to stand, his father’s fingers curled around his wrist.

Harry twisted his neck around, his eyebrows raised in question.

“Has your anger abated?” he asked. “After your flight?”

Unsure of what answer his father wanted, Harry settled on the truth; nodding. His brows furrowed as Severus’ hold became firmer around his wrist.

“And can you promise me that you will not resort to such therapy again?” he asked, his voice dropping; his black eyes were boring into Harry’s. Harry could only shake his head; it had been a long time since he’d lied to his father. He wasn’t keen to do it again, no matter what those dark eyes promised.

Severus nodded, the forbidding expression clearing from his features. “You may have your broom for practice, but otherwise I will keep it until this situation resolves itself.”

Harry swallowed hard. “But what if it doesn’t?” he asked thickly; not because he wanted his broom but because he didn’t think he could bear it otherwise.

“One of you is going to have to break this silence,” Severus said, his grip relenting to a more comforting one. “One of you will be brave enough.”

Brave.

Harry had plenty of bravery, or so he’d always been told. But what good was courage when you’re terrified that the girl you love doesn’t love you back?

--

Harry channeled his feelings into Severus-approved activities for the next several days, turning out some of the best moves he’d ever had during practice with the Cannons.

Remus showed up one afternoon as well, in running shorts and a tee shirt, making Harry stare at him for a full minute before he remembered to ask him in.

“Care for a jog over the grounds?” Remus asked, chuckling at Harry’s bafflement.

“A jog…” Harry narrowed his eyes. “Did my Dad put you up to this?”

“It was Tonks’ idea, actually,” Remus said, still smiling. “I think she’s rather sick of me being underfoot. And after we heard about your flying tricks yesterday evening, she decided you needed a way to burn off some of your restless energy. Your father was quite enthusiastic when I mentioned it this morning, however,” he added with a smirk.

“Jogging?” Harry couldn’t help but make a face. “I’m not really much of a runner, Remus. I’ve never seen you run either.”

“I used to jog quite regularly with your mother during our school years.”

Harry immediately smiled and then rolled his eyes. “You and my dad really need to stop bringing up Mum’s name every time you want to cajole me into doing something.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Harry smiled again. “Never mind. All right,” he agreed, “I’ll go with you, but I’m warning you, I’m only fast in the air.”

“I’ll match your pace,” Remus assured him. He clapped Harry’s shoulder and told him to find something more suitable than pajamas to wear.

Levi came with them, squawking excitedly as they covered the dips and peaks of Hogwarts’ rolling grounds. They didn’t talk and Harry found himself running faster; pounding the grass as he thought of Ginny. And how much he wanted to see her.

It became a ritual between them—Remus stopping by in the afternoon and Harry running as hard as he could until he felt like every last bit of anger and grief was purged.

He looked forward to those hours with eagerness; as much as he did the hours he spent in the lab with his father, both of them working in easy camaraderie even when what they were doing required silent concentration.

Three days after his first run with Remus, he and Severus stood over a simmering cauldron full of Bittertox Potion.

“I have three more salves to brew for Poppy,” Severus said as he stirred in a clockwise motion. “I should be finished in three days time.”

Harry grinned. “We can go to the Cottage then?” He didn’t know what it was exactly about the small dwelling, but he loved being there. “Schminge will be pleased,” he said happily when his father nodded.

“We should plan a few trips as well,” Severus said, looking a bit sour over the mention of the amiable house-elf.

“Where?” Harry demanded, pouncing on the idea; his father smiled.

“Where would you like to go?”

“Erm… I have no idea,” Harry admitted, grinning sheepishly at his father’s amused smirk. “Where have you never been?”

Severus thought it over. “The American continents, Australia, Asia and quite a large portion of Europe.”

“Well, that narrows it down…” Harry shook his head. “Where would you most like to go?”

It was Severus’ turn to be flummoxed and Harry laughed. “Maybe we can spell that globe in Binns’ classroom to choose for us.”

Severus nodded seriously. “Perhaps.”

The Floo erupted in the other room before Harry could tell his dad he’d only been joking, so he simply smiled and went into the sitting room to see who was calling.

“Hermione? What are you doing here?”

Hermione smiled out through the green flames. “Professor Dumbledore asked the Ministry to connect my parent’s fireplace to the Floo Network; isn’t that lovely?”

“Brilliant,” Harry said with a grin. “Come through.”

“I know it’s a bit gauche to arrive in one’s Floo unannounced, but I haven’t received my Apparating license yet. Is Professor Snape here?” she asked as she brushed her sleeves.

“In the lab; we’ve been brewing.”

“Have you?” Hermione asked, a smile lighting her face. “May I see what you’re working on?”

Harry wasn’t certain how his dad would react to Hermione’s presence in the lab, but he waved her into the adjacent room anyway.

“Good afternoon, Hermione,” Severus greeted before Harry could even announce his friend.

“Good afternoon, Professor.” Hermione peered into Severus’ cauldron. “Bittertox Brew?” she guessed.

“In its final stage, yes.”

“May I help with anything?”

“I am finished for another two hours,” Severus answered and Hermione sighed. “Harry would probably enjoy your company however,” Severus said, glancing over at Harry.

“We can dice flobberworms another day,” Harry told Hermione, trying not to smile at the look of disappointment on her face. “Dad will save some for you next time,” he promised, giving his father a smile when Severus opened his mouth to protest. “Won’t you?”

“I can come back tomorrow,” Hermione said, her expression brightening. “I’ve been researching the various types of healing elixirs. I would appreciate your opinion on one of them, sir. A brew by a man named Ewing; he’s new to the field.”

Harry watched as interest lit his father’s dark eyes. “His theories tend toward the radical,” Severus said with a nod, “though they are generally sound.”

Harry drifted toward the sofa as Hermione responded; she and Severus spent the next ten minutes debating the Potioneer named Ewing. And only when both of them realized that Harry wasn’t in the room anymore did Hermione emerge, with Severus sending an apology through their connection, but Harry didn’t mind. He was glad to see Hermione so happy.

Hermione was grinning as she settled next to Harry on the sofa. “You must think I’m daft,” she laughed, though Harry had been trying not to let his amusement show. “But I’ve always wished I could discuss potions with Professor Snape.”

Harry smiled. “Well, he’s here all summer. Well, actually we’ll be at my parents’ Cottage, but you can come there as well as here.”

Hermione squeezed his hand and sighed. “It’s really lonely at home. My parents have been sorting their hours so they can spend more time with me. I think my mother was relieved though when I told her I would be able to visit you through the Floo. She and Dad have been worried about me, I think.”

“I’m glad you came,” Harry told her. “Which reminds me,” he added as she leaned against his shoulder. “Owen and I went to Hogsmeade after practice last week.”

“How are your practices?” she asked. “You’re enjoying them, aren’t you?”

“More than I thought I would, actually,” he said with a grin. “You should come watch. My dad has been coming since those reporters showed up. The two of you can discuss potions,” he teased. Hermione nodded eagerly though, not noticing Harry’s tone at all. Harry shook his head, still amused as he reached a hand out and summoned the book that Owen had bought for Hermione.

“Your dad’s been tutoring you!” Hermione said, delighted at the show of wandless magic.

Harry shrugged, feeling self-conscious. “It’s been rather fun to be able to do magic all summer.” He handed Hermione the book.

“Mistin Broker?” Hermione breathed, her voice full of excitement. “How did you know I wanted to read one of his books? I meant to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to find one!”

“Owen bought that for you, when we went to Hogsmeade. Said he’d mentioned the author to you.” Not sure why he felt the need to confess, Harry bit his lip and added, “He wanted to give it to you himself but I sort of discouraged him…”

Hermione’s brown eyes darted up to meet his. “Why?”

Harry shrugged. “I didn’t think Ron would like it and it felt funny-”

“Harry, Ron and I aren’t dating any longer,” she broke in softly.

Shifting a bit, Harry said, “It’s hardly been two weeks since you broke it off though.”

“I don’t mean I want to start seeing Auggie-”

“Auggie?” Harry said, making a face. “Please don’t tell me you call him that?”

Hermione flushed. “It’s what he asked me to call him and-”

Harry waved his hand hastily, suddenly not wanting to hear another word about Owen. “Never mind, never mind… call him whatever you want.”

Hermione sighed. “Harry, it isn’t like that at all. I enjoy his company and if I Ron and I hadn’t just-” She shook her head. “Well, it’s much too soon to date another boy.”

“Owen’s not exactly a boy,” Harry felt constrained to point out, even though he’d just promised himself he wasn’t going to have this conversation.

“I’m nearly eighteen, Harry,” Hermione said with a shrug. Harry didn’t think that had much to do with anything but he didn’t say anything else; the feeling of betraying Ron was much too strong. Not that he’d even spoken to Ron in ages. Hermione smiled and squeezed his fingers again.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” she asked.

“As long as we don’t have to go to the library,” Harry agreed with a smirk.

“You know, Harry, it wouldn’t kill you to spend some time in the library this summer,” Hermione retorted after nudging him with an elbow to his ribs. “You have access to the most extension collection of books in wizarding Britain.”

“I have access to it all year as well and I never go in then either.”

Hermione made a face and Harry offered her a hand up from the sofa with a chuckle.

“We’re going outside for a bit,” he called to his father as he held the door open for Hermione.

“If you leave the grounds,” Severus began his customary admonishment, but Harry was already nodding.

“I’ll tell you. Don’t worry; we aren’t going off to fight a Minotaur or anything.”

Looking decidedly unamused, Severus retorted, “I have your broom.”

Touche.

Harry smiled. “Good thing then or we just might have done it.” Unable to resist, he waggled his fingers at his surprised father and followed Hermione out into the corridor.

For the first time in weeks, the dungeon corridors no longer felt oppressive and since they were no longer discussing either Ron or August, Harry relaxed, listening with a smile to Hermione detailing the list of books she’d already read in the few short weeks of the summer hols.

“The author makes a case for the enslavement of house-elves, Harry,” she was saying indignantly as they crossed the lawn. “Can you imagine such a thing? He goes far beyond the usual-” Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste, “-asinine belief about house-elves enjoying their work. The author actually believes that our entire way of life would be destroyed without house-elves!”

“Ridiculous,” Harry agreed, making certain his voice and face were as serious as possible. Hermione nodded.

“One day, Harry,” she said, “it’s going to fall to our generation to fix this. There are so many injustices. Even more than in the non-magical world, I think.” She gripped Harry’s fingers as he reached out to steady her over a slippery rock on the path down to Hagrid’s hut.

“You’re probably right,” Harry said, thoughtful despite himself. “Why haven’t you taken an internship at the Ministry for the summer? I was offered… four, I think.”

Hermione slid her eyes toward him and smiled. “You’re Harry Potter,” she reminded him. “Every office in the Ministry wants you.”

“All the more reason for you to fight for change, then,” Harry said dryly. “They’d have to be stupid to choose me over you.” He thought he saw Hermione’s cheeks flush but she looked down too quickly for him to be certain.

“Hagrid’s outside,” she said a moment later when she looked up again. She waved and Hagrid returned the gesture, his broad face breaking out in a great grin. “Come on, Harry,” she said; she took his hand impatiently when the toe of his trainer hooked over a root and then practically dragged him over to where Hagrid and Fang were waiting.