Vox Corpis [Harmione]

Chapter 36

It was very nearly bedtime before Harry, Hermione, and Ron returned to the Gryffindor common room from their latest attempt at practicing wandless magic. It had been as unproductive a lesson as those that came before it, but Harry had hardly been focusing on the quill. Not with Hermione right beside him.

The common room was already empty when they straggled in, all the other students in their dorms if not already in their beds as well. The lights had been lowered but a fire burned steady and warm in the hearth for any wayward Gryffindors. Crookshanks was curled on the rug in front of the flames, half-asleep and purring under his breath. It seemed the chill of the night had been enough to dissuade the cat from a midnight walk-about of the grounds when there was a warm fire to be had.

Ron yawned. "Well… another evening wasted."

Hermione looked sharply at Ron. "You're not thinking of going to bed; you have homework that needs to be done. I'll bet you haven't even started on your assignment for McGonagall."

Ron scowled, which was telling as to the state of his Transfiguration homework. "Oh, later, I'm knackered. You coming with, Harry?"

And have Hermione's wrath turned on him? He had more sense than that. "No, I'll try and get some work done before turning in." He questioned how much sleep he'd manage if he went up to bed, anyway.

"Suit yourself. I'd rather do with a good sleep, personally. Good night." With that, Ron trudged up the stairs and left Harry and Hermione alone in the common room. A day ago that would not have been discomfiting, but tonight Harry felt tense.

Hermione turned away from Ron's exit with a roll of her eyes. "I know he's thinking he'll copy off me in the morning, but I won't do it this time," her expression changed, as though the irritant which was Ron's procrastination was put out of mind. "Come on, Harry. Let's get started. We may even be able to finish in only an hour if we work hard at it."

Harry nodded mutely and followed Hermione toward the fire. She dropped her bag to the floor and lowered herself to the rug beside Crookshanks. The cat opened his eyes fractionally at the new company. Hermione petted her familiar a moment while Harry sat down on the couch a short distance away.

He was staring at her, he knew he was. He couldn't seem to help it. He'd thought far too long on what had happened in Divination. The more he thought, the deeper he seemed to fall into a sinking well. And he feared, he knew, he wouldn't escape it without facing the demons in the dark waters. The same ones he'd eluded numerous times in the past. They would find him tonight.

Hermione pulled her book from her bag and opened it on her lap. She took out next parchment and quill, ink bottle and wand for scourgify spells in place of muggle correction liquid. She laid them out before her, just so, then turned to her text. She was so focused, so single-minded and intent, that she was mindless to the fact that Harry had yet to move to mimic her studious actions.

Rather, he was watching her.

Harry had watched her do the same thing a thousand times. It was Hermione, through and through. The crinkle of concentration upon her brow, the slight pinching of her lips, the flick of her eyes as they raced over written words. It was how Harry was accustomed to seeing her, on a mission, with a purpose, set to a task.

But he'd also seen her smile, gentle and untroubled, with a babe in her arms.

Harry's heart was fluttering in his chest, and he feared to think why.

The vision. It had plagued him all day. What did it mean? He'd thought on it long and hard. Trelawney's meaning had been clear, if the old witch could be taken at her word. And this time, he found himself inexplicably drawn to believe that she had known an elusive truth. He was compelled to believe in the thing he'd seen in the crystal ball. According to Trelawney, if he'd seen Hermione in his vision, she was in his future. That really wasn't too surprising. They were best friends; he'd expect her to be there. He'd be worried if she wasn't.