𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐆𝐨

𝐗𝐈𝐕

"What's the spell that clears someone's airway again 'Mione?"

"Ronald, you must figure some things out for yourself," said Hermione, "This stuff is important, it's vital that you obtain it."

"C'mon. If I'm gonna be an Auror one day, I'm gonna be kicking arse and having a blast, not some stupid Mediwitch stuff like clearing airways."

"Well, what if you were in a situation where someone was in serious trouble, like—oh I don't know—not breathing? You're going to need to learn this too. That's why Defence Against the Dark Arts is mandatory for aspiring Aurors."

Ron sighed, and then scowled as he continued to brood over his homework.

"Harry?" he asked me hopefully.

"Anapeneo."

He smiled in gratification. "Thanks, Harry. My best friend in the whole world who cares about me more than my own girlfriend," he smirked at Hermione.

"Harry!" Hermione scolded me. "He needs to learn this!"

"It's only one little spell," I replied.

"One little spell that he's going to forget and end up letting someone die," she grumbled to both of us.

We all went back to our homework. Hermione got up from her seat to find another book somewhere within the library. She came back with a large Arithmancy textbook in her arm.

"I thought you were taking Alchemy instead this year," said Neville when she sat down.

"I'm taking both" she said, "I'm still not entirely sure what I want to do once I graduate. I want to leave my options open."

Neville nodded in understanding. "What about you, Harry. You're not taking much this year, you still wanna be an Auror too?" he asked me.

I looked up from my Defence papers and shrugged my shoulders.

The idea of being an Auror for the rest of my life had recently become very distasteful to me. All my life, I've been fighting, I'm done now and I'd like to keep it that way.

"You don't wanna be an Auror anymore?" Ron asked surprised.

"I really don't know. I'd just like some peace for now."

"Oh. I get that," he said. "So that means we can't share an office and continue to be an iconic duo?" he laughed.

"Of course we'll still be iconic, Ron. Maybe just not in the same profession."

He laughed again before writing down the spell I had told him. He finished the rest fairly quickly—unfortunate for Hermione, as he began to beg the rest of us to come back to the common room with him for a game of chess.

"I'll go with you, Ron," Neville said as he saw Hermione develop a murderous expression.

"Aw, thanks Neville! You're the best!" Ron cheered.

Me and Hermione were alone now. The library was quiet today and Defence against the Dark Arts soon ceased to occupy my conscience.

Hermione must have noticed this, as I could see her trying to muster a conversation starter.

Finally, she said, "So, Harry. Have you and Malfoy spoken yet? It midway through October, surely you've said something."

I tried to think of a lie I could tell her to back up the lie that we haven't talked. I knew I was taking too long, and she did too.

"Tell the truth, Harry. If he's hurt you–"

"He hasn't."

"So you have spoken?"