Awakening || Harry & Hermione

Chapter 7.1

He had grown so close to Hermione this year—more open, trusting, and comfortable than he had been with anyone else, really—that he had forgotten what it was like to get into an argument with her. And how much he truly hated it.

It was late evening when Dobby apparated him back to Hogwarts from seeing Sirius and he nearly bumped into Hermione in his rush to enter the dormitories before curfew started.

She was standing in front of the Fat Lady's portrait and blocking his way, with her arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor. "Why the rush? You've already been gone so long you might as well wait in the corridors for Filch to catch you on his patrol."

"Hermione," Harry said, exasperated. "Let me through."

"Why should I?" She turned up her nose at him. "You said you would be back to the dorms in two hours. Do you know much time has passed? Six hours. Six!"

"So I lost track of time a little—it happens!" He was beginning to get frustrated. "Padfoot was telling me some old stories of his and I just forgot, all right?"

"Just—just forgot?"

"Yeah, you know, that thing where your brain decides not to remind you of something."

"I know what it means, thank you very much. What I don't understand is how you could be so scatterbrained—"

"Oh, will you two shut it!" The Fat Lady led out a massive yawn. "What are you doing having a lover's spat while I'm trying to sleep? Get in already!"

Both teenagers glared at the other and reluctantly shuffled inside the Common Room. Only a few stragglers had yet to go to bed and Hermione dragged Harry to one of the far away, unoccupied corners before hissing, "Harry, you have got to be more responsible than this! If you disappear for such long hours at a time, someone is bound to notice and try to find out the reason why."

"Dobby already said that Dumbledore can't sense when we leave the wards, who would be able to track me? Even if I'm not seen for a while, I can just say I was studying at the library and fell asleep or something."

"Yes, but disappear often and long enough and even Dumbledore will get suspicious. I doubt he would approve of your frequent visits to Sirius. And what if it isn't Dumbledore who notices—what if it's someone who would want to do you harm when you leave Hogwarts' wards? Have you forgotten that we still don't know who put your name in the Goblet?"

"It's not like I go every day! I don't know why you're so upset about this—you could have come along too, but you said you were too busy."

"Busy with schoolwork! Busy with trying to keep you alive for the third task! It's not just me, you don't have the time to waste."

"So, it's a waste now, is it?" Harry said bitterly. "Haven't you seen him trapped in that big, old, dusty place with no one but two elves for company? He's lonely and miserable. Don't you even care?"

"Of course I care! How—how could you even insinuate that I don't?"

He snorted. "I get it, he's not your family. You have more important things to worry about."

She threw up her hands in the air and stalked away from him.

Harry avoided Hermione for the most part of the next day. Out of pure annoyance, he summoned Dobby and asked if he could apparate him to Grimmauld.

Dobby wrung his hands, looking distraught. "Dobby... Dobby can't. Dobby doesn't want Harry Potter to get hurt!"

"What?"

"Harry Potter's Miss Granger has told Dobby that it is dangerous to visit Paddy too often. Harry Potter promised that Dobby could choose to do what he wants and Dobby only wants to do what will keep Harry Potter safe!"

He stared up at Harry as if dreading him changing his request into an order—something he was loath to do anyway. He never wanted to be like Dobby's previous master who would strip away his choice of free will. No, the cause of his current state of anger was that Hermione had gone behind his back and manipulated Dobby by using the elf's concern for him.

"When did she tell you it would be 'safe' for me to go back?" He tried to keep his voice steady.

"The end of this week, Harry Potter Sir," Dobby replied meekly.

Harry spent the rest of the day fuming and refused to speak to Hermione when she tried to approach him that evening. If she was going to be like this, he might as well not talk to her at all until she realized what she had done wrong. A week... what would Sirius think of his absence without any explanation?

The next morning, he made his way to breakfast with a headache and heavy bags under his eyes. Hermione was already there at the Gryffindor's table, munching on toast and staring at the paper without much focus. She looked up and froze as their eyes met.

Harry, too, paused in his steps. Hesitating.

After what felt like forever, he walked past Hermione and sat next to Neville further down the table.

"Morning, Harry." Neville eyed him curiously. "Rough night again?"

He rubbed his forehead wearily. "You could say that."

One day passing hadn't done anything to lessen the frustration at his best friend and worry over his godfather, keeping him awake that night. For some reason, he couldn't stop thinking about third year and that time Hermione had gone behind his back to McGonagall about his broom. It had been about his safety then too, and yes, she had been right after all, but her apparent lack of trust in him had rankled him then and it rankled him now.

Neville glanced at Hermione, but wisely chose not to say anything.

Harry, too, looked over at his best friend who had her shoulders hunched and was staring down at her hands. He felt a surge of guilt rising within him, but somehow managed to squash it down.