Awakening || Harry & Hermione

Chapter 7.2

He ate as quickly as he could and exited the Great Hall, feeling a strange emptiness grow inside of him as he stood motionlessly in the hallway. Usually, he and Hermione would take a short walk outside or leisurely make their way to their first class as they discussed their plans for the day. There was still time until class and Harry found himself at a loss for what to do in between.

"Oh, good. You're still here." He turned around to find Neville, panting slightly and holding out a school bag to him. "You forgot this."

Harry cringed as he realized the bag was his and awkwardly said his thanks.

"Don't mention it. I could tell you were distracted about something." Neville gave a faint smile. "I don't think it's about the Tournament or breathing underwater this time, so I won't be of much assistance."

Ever since that night when Neville had mentioned the gillyweed to him, Harry found himself speaking more often to the soft-spoken Gryffindor. There was something so unassuming and open about him, that made it easy for people to relax.

"No, not the Tournament this time." Harry still didn't feel comfortable talking directly about Hermione. "What would you do if someone you care about showed a lack of trust in you?"

Neville winced. "Have you met my grandmother? She didn't trust me to be alone with a wand until I was already on the Hogwarts Express."

Harry suddenly had an absurd image of Hermione wearing a stuffed vulture hat and holding a bright red handbag as she stared down at him disapprovingly, and couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter.

"See?" Neville shook his head self-mockingly. "I don't know how to deal with the trust issue myself, but whatever problem you're having simply can't be as bad as my gran. Cheer up."

Well, that's certainly one way of looking at it.

Classes went by uneventfully. It wasn't as bad as Harry thought it would be, especially while sitting next to Neville. Sometimes the boy stuttered and when he couldn't muster up a topic of conversation, he almost always resorted to droning on and on about Herbology. But he also surprised Harry with his occasional dry humour and random tidbits about the Wizarding World.

During the evening, Harry caught sight of Hermione making her way to the library and at the spur of the moment started walking in the opposite direction, deciding that he might as well drop by Hagrid's Hut. It had been a while since his last visit.

He was a little taken aback when Neville followed suit.

"Um, Neville," Harry started to say awkwardly. "Classes are over."

"I know."

"I'm just going to go some—"

"I'll come with you! I've got nothing else to do!"

Harry groaned. It seemed that his little bout of depression that morning had caught Neville's attention and the usually meek, uncertain boy was oddly determined to keep Harry company.

By the time they arrived at Hagrid's Hut, Neville looked a bit apprehensive.

"It's just Hagrid," Harry said.

"I know that," Neville whispered, "but he's looked so down this last month. Are you sure he'd want visitors?"

It was true that after Rita Skeeter's article exposed his giant blood, Hagrid had taken it very badly—barely speaking to anyone and hiding in his hut whenever he didn't have to teach his class. It wasn't until Harry and Hermione knocked some sense into him and assured him that no one would think less of him just because his mum was a giantess, that he had come out from seclusion and tried to go back to normal. However, Harry knew all too well the power of gossip, scornful stares, and poisonous words and he was concerned that Hagrid might relapse into a bout of self-doubt and depression.

He need not have worried: Hagrid opened the door with a large grin on his face and heartily welcomed them in.

"If it isn' Harry! An' Neville—this is a surprise!" He patted the two on their shoulders and Harry chuckled when he saw Neville jump at the enthusiastic greeting.

Hagrid's smile faltered as he looked behind them. "Hermione didn' come with yeh?"

Harry looked down at his feet, not sure if he should tell the truth—poor Hagrid was already so confused at the rift that had developed between him and Ron—but Neville spoke up in his place: "I saw her heading to the library."

That answer seemed to satisfy him for they were soon settled on the table and Hagrid rummaged for cakes and tea to feed them.

Harry had always been aware of the candor and easy-going nature Hagrid had in the trio's presence compared to other students, but it was especially apparent now as Hagrid awkwardly stumbled with his attempts to engage Neville in conversation.

The shy boy responded with one-word answers until Hagrid said: "So—er—Neville, Professor Sprout tells me yer a prodigy at Herbology."

That was all it took for the dam to burst. Neville lit up and began talking at length about a new plant he was studying that was the main diet of one of the creatures that had been introduced in their last Care of Magical Creatures class. Hagrid stroked his chin in thought and started firing off questions while Harry sipped his tea, content to watch their exchange with amusement.

Once the conversation paused, Harry noted the large smile on Hagrid's face and remarked with heartfelt sincerity: "It's good to see you like this, Hagrid. I'm glad you're doing better."

"Better?" The giant man seemed confused before he thumped his knee in understanding. "Yer talkin' about Skeeter? Bah, I won' give her any more attention."

"Forget about me," Hagrid waved a hand, "What about Hermione? Heard she got some nasty letters."

"Oh. That...I took care of it." Harry shrugged and began to explain how he had given those letter senders a taste of their own medicine.

"That's brilliant!" Neville said with a look of awe on his face. "Did any of them reply back?"

Harry smirked. "Hedwig did bring me back some letters with their signature magical trace, but I threw them in the fireplace. Couldn't be bothered to read."

"And what did Hermione have ter say about this?"

"Don't tell her about this," Harry said, panicking slightly. It would be so awkward if she found out now, while they were in the midst of an argument. What if she thought he was trying to get back into her good graces? Worse...what if she looked down at him for it? He didn't want her to know yet of that darker part of him—the one that had rejoiced at the retaliation, in getting some small revenge.

"I—I didn't do it to gain any sort of recognition. I know it probably wasn't the most mature thing to do, but I was just so furious and it felt right, as strange as that sounds."

Hagrid appeared confused but Neville just gave him a long look and said nothing.

He kept his silence until they had left Hagrid's Hut and were walking back to the castle, where he suddenly blurted: "I know it's not any of my business."

"What?" Harry paused in his steps.

"About you and Hermione—obviously, you're having some sort of argument with each other. It's not my place to tell you what to do, but I just wanted to say...she looked rather lonely today."

Neville looked down at the grass.

"And so did you."