The Secret's In The Telling by Sakuri

chapter 17

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one

Chapter 17: Passing Notes

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"Valour," Harry mumbled tiredly to the Fat Lady, who started from her sleep at the sound of his voice. She cast him an irritable look before swinging forward, admitting him into the Gryffindor common room.

Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled through the small entrance. It was barely nine o' clock in the morning, he'd discovered, upon casting a Tempus charm on his way back towards the castle. Too early to be awake on a weekend, that was for sure.

Grumbling quietly, he wandered through the common room, which was deserted other than a few early-risers, mostly seventh years. They cast Harry curious glances, probably prompted by his less than pristine appearance, although Harry had yet to notice the mud stains, leaves and twigs that covered him, in the same way they covered Draco. He ignored his fellow Gryffindors, uninterested by the thought of explanations.

Bed seemed like the only logical destination. He was so tired, and every muscle he owned still ached, stiff and sore, not at all loosened by his walk across the grounds and through the castle. He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep – this time, preferably, not with Malfoy hanging off his waist.

That particular wake-up call was possibly the most disturbing thing Harry had ever experienced. Quite pointedly, he was trying to avoid thinking about it.

The dormitory was still filled with the sounds of light breathing and the occasional snore when he entered. Maybe, if he was lucky, they'd wake up and simply assume he'd returned slightly late last night, never noticing he'd disappeared for such an extended period of time.

Thinking this, ever hopeful, he fell gracelessly into bed – completely ruining his plan with the fact that he was still fully dressed, covered in mud and lying on top of the covers.

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Hermione had been unspeakably relieved when Ron came to tell her that Harry was back in the dorms. The pair had sat at the breakfast table, discussing their friend's night time absence.

The witch was part angry, exasperated and sympathetic. She was sick of these unexplained disappearances. She understood that Harry thought he needed to be alone, but it was becoming ridiculous now. Especially when he let her and Ron sit up half the night with worry.

And what in Merlin's name had he been doing, to come back looking like he did? Ron hadn't woken him, but he'd given her a description of the state their friend was in. Anyone would think he'd been wandering about the forest or something!

They let him sleep through breakfast, and well into the afternoon, even though Hermione fumed throughout, longing to lecture. Ron had tried to wake him if only to ask if he was up to the Hogsmeade visit, but after receiving an unintelligible but clearly hostile mumble in return, he'd given up, and they'd gone without him. It was only when dinner was being served back in the castle, sometime between six and seven that evening, that they finally laid eyes on him.

Harry stumbled blurry-eyed through the doors of the Great Hall. He'd obviously showered and changed, though the hair was as messy as ever and the muggle style clothes he wore seemed mismatched and too baggy. But that wasn't really a surprise.

The black haired boy dropped onto the bench between his friends, who were staring at him wordlessly, waiting for some kind of explanation. He didn't seem to notice, however. Dazedly, he simply looked around at the plates of food and asked, absently, "Isn't there any chicken left?"

"Harry!" Hermione snapped in annoyance, unable to restrain herself for any length of time. "Aren't you going to even try to… to…" She trailed off, stuttering with indignity.