Thick fumes filled the air, obscuring the view in the already dark dungeons, and nearly no sound could be heard, except for the occasional ‘plop’ or sounds of cutting or stirring, as the second year Gryffindor/Slytherin Potions class was working more or less diligently on the Swelling Solution. The atmosphere between the students of the different houses was tense, but relatively peaceful, mostly due to the fact that even though their professor was sitting at the front desk and looking through the essays he had collected at the beginning of the glass, one had the impression that he was still keeping a close eye on each and every one of them.
Harry grinned slightly at this, as he was sitting unnoticed in a dark corner of the Potions classroom, seeing as he had never expected that his once school arch-enemy proved to be such a talented and respected teacher. This lesson was so different from the ones he had experienced in their own time -- this might be, because here in this time there was no Snape hovering over the students like an overgrown bat.
There were the usual directions at the blackboard, but Harry had witnessed how Draco had explained each and every single step, why things had to be done as they were done, and now he was giving his students the space they needed to work calmly and undisturbed and helped, when asked. This impressed Harry a lot. This truly spoke of how far Draco had come, of how much he had matured in the previous years. It made Harry wonder, if Draco had somehow chosen the wrong profession -- maybe he could be Snape’s successor, if the older wizard ever gave up his job or finally got the Defence spot permanently, which hadn’t been the case after his own seventh year at Hogwarts. There really seemed to be a curse on that teaching spot.
Soon Draco called out that the time was up and that the students should bottle their potions, mark them with their names and then put them on his desk, before cleaning up. Immediately a lively hustle broke out in the classroom with students getting up from their seats left and right, some bringing their potions to the front and others putting away the ingredients they had needed. Harry had to suppress a chuckle, when he noticed the varying colours of the potions, glad that he didn’t need to do this anymore. An E on his N.E.W.T.s had gotten him safely into Auror programme and there he only had had to deal with one more term of Potions before he could finally leave this subject behind him. Still, watching cauldrons explode had always been pretty funny, as long as it hadn’t been his own or one of his friends’.
Not even five minutes later the bell rang to announce that the class was over and Harry watched from the darkness as the students filed out of the room until the last one was gone. He just wanted to make his presence known to Draco, who was shuffling through some papers on his desk, as the Slytherin beat him to it.
“You can now come out of your hiding place, Potter,” he said, without even looking up, but clearly with a smirk on his face.
Grinning, Harry left the dark corner and walked through an aisle between the students’ desks to the front of the room. “How did you know I was there?” He knew he had been extra careful, when he came into the classroom, having even skipped lunch to not be noticed. No one had been there with Draco and most of the students still in the Great Hall, so he had thought that no one would know that he was watching.
“Nicked this from Filch’s office.” Draco held up a parchment, which Harry immediately recognized.
Harry took it out of his hand, not even noticing that Draco had once again turned his attention back to the essays and potion samples on his desk, and opened it, watching the tiny named dots moving around in the dungeons. At first he didn’t know how he should feel about it, but in the end he decided that it didn’t matter. Draco was one of them now and he had obviously used this parchment for something that would make the inventors proud -- besides, being half a Black, the parchment was just as rightfully his as it was Harry’s.
After having muttered “Mischief Managed” to close the Marauders Map and putting it back down on the desk, Harry said, hoping to catch Draco off guard, “So this is how you and Hermione have been going on for so long without anyone catching you red-handed.”
This statement had the desired effect, as the blond Slytherin looked up sharply. This sudden movement caused a phial to topple over and fall from the desk, but thanks to his Seeker reflexes, Harry caught it without problems and put it back on the desk where it had been standing before. Grey eyes meet green ones, as Draco simply said, “Let’s go into my office.”
He turned on the spot and went through a door next to the blackboard. With a shrug, Harry followed him and sat down in one of the green armchairs standing in front of a desk, while Draco was walking around the desk to sit down in his chair. None of them said a word during the first few minutes, Draco only watching Harry warily through the strands of pale blond hair falling over his eyes, but Harry was patiently waiting for the other young man to continue the conversation that Harry had initiated.
“So you know,” Draco eventually stated, leaning back and crossing his arms defensively. “And I guess now you want to tell me to leave her alone.”
“I could,” Harry admitted, at once noticing how Draco’s body tensed up, “but I won’t. Listen, Draco,” he continued, when he saw that the other young man wanted to say something, probably wanting to give him a piece of his mind, “I know Hermione and I believe I also know you pretty well by now and I know that both of you can be very stubborn. Besides, I think Hermione really likes you. I would even go as far as saying that she loves you. Who am I to stand in her way?”
“So,” Draco drawled, obviously choosing his next words carefully, as he once again gazed at Harry through his bangs, though his stance had relaxed a bit, “you’re okay with this… us?”
“If I weren’t, would it matter?” Harry replied.
Scoffing, Draco unfolded his arms and got up from his chair, going to the cabinet behind his desk to get two glasses and a bottle of Firewhiskey, which he then placed again on the desk. He filled first Harry’s glass and then his own, before he sat down again. “Not to me anyway… Cheers.” He raised his glass to the lips and took a long draught.
“Cheers,” Harry said with a grin and took a sip from his glass of Firewhiskey.
Silence fell over them, as they both nursed their drinks. Harry chanced a few glances at his former enemy over his glass. There was a thoughtful look on the blond’s face, but as usual the grey eyes were guarded, not showing any kind of emotion. When his glass was empty, he put it back on the desk and was about to rise from the chair. Harry didn’t think that Draco would say more to that topic, however, Draco obviously planned on continuing to surprise him that day, when he suddenly said, “Thank you.”
Inclining his head, Harry said, “You’re welcome.” He finally got up and was just about to leave the office, when he turned back one more time. “Before I forget, Draco… Hermione’s like a sister to me and if you ever hurt her…”
“I know, you’re going to hex me or curse me or whatever,” Draco waved Harry’s threat off as if it were nothing. “But I don’t think you’re going to have to do that.”
“I’m glad to hear this. I’ll see you at dinner.” This was not how Harry had planned to give Draco the obligatory big brother speech, but he was just as satisfied with this result. Hermione really seemed to be in good hands. Then, suddenly, as he was already halfway through the classroom, Harry doubled back to say, “Speaking of dinner… You do know that you can’t get out of any invitations coming from my or Ron’s parents anymore, right?”
“Shove off, Potter!” Draco growled, but there was an amused smirk on his face. Harry simply grinned at him and this time really left the Potions classroom and the dungeons.
The following days leading up to the Christmas holidays passed quickly for everyone who was living at Hogwarts. The whole castle was filled with the spirit of Christmas. In addition to the mistletoe, Professor Flitwick had once again charmed the armours to sing carols and Hagrid had decorated the Great Hall and the Entrance Hall with huge evergreen trees. Even classes were more fun, for both students and teachers, as both parties were infected by the extraordinary good mood in the castle.
During the meals and in the common room Harry had taken to carefully observe Draco and Hermione, whose relationship he still kept a secret, as he had promised Hermione. Harry had to admit that both of them were really good actors -- if he didn’t know what he was looking for, he would certainly miss the subtle signs. A fleeting touch here, a wistful glance there -- now that Harry knew what was going on, it was pretty obvious actually. But he still didn’t breathe a word. He just hoped that Hermione would soon gather enough courage to tell Ron her secret, before the redhead found out on his own.
Three days before the Christmas holidays began (and one week before Christmas), Ron received a Floo call from his parents. They asked him, if he and his friends wanted to celebrate the holiday with them, first with dinner on Christmas Eve and then participate in the Grand Weasley Present Opening Ceremony. James, Lily and little Harry would also be there. Mrs. Weasley also gave a hint that she had some news, which she wanted to share with them that night. When Ron told Harry and Hermione this, he appeared to be completely clueless, but his two friends immediately gave each other a knowing look. They accepted this invitation of course, even Draco after Harry had convinced him with a pointed look and a superior smirk.
All in all, everything was peaceful. Even Voldemort and his Death Eaters were lying low, which, in Harry’s opinion, didn’t bode well, but for now he wasn’t going to complain about this. It was good to finally read some good news in the papers instead of the steadily rising death toll. The only thing that worried Harry was the fact that Dumbledore was still absent from Hogwarts, obviously still looking for Norton Lewthwaite. Harry wished he could help, somehow, but all he could do was wait for Dumbledore to come back, hopefully with good news.
Still, all of them, probably except for Hermione, were happy when the day most of the students were going home arrived. Minerva McGonagall, who was carrying out her duty as Deputy Headmistress during Dumbledore’s absence, had asked Ron to help Hagrid to supervise the send-off of the students at the Hogsmeade Station. So, while Ron was outside, the other three time travellers were lounging in their common room, Harry and Hermione playing chess and Draco reading in front of the fire.
Harry and Hermione’s game was fairly evenly matched, which was a welcome change to their being beaten by Ron every time they played against him. There was a slight tug at Harry’s lips, as he watched with a calculating look Hermione contemplate her next move. One wrong move on her side and he was going to win, he knew it. However, Hermione discovered the trap (of course) and, cursing under his breath, Harry regarded the new situation on the board. Once again, everything was possible.
His ponderings about what to do next were suddenly interrupted, when the portrait to their common room swung aside and Ron stepped inside, rubbing his hands through his gloves. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, as he crossed the room, instead of taking off his cloak pulling it tighter around him and slumped down in one of the armchairs in front of the fire. He leaned over and held his hands directly over the burning charcoal to get warm again. “Do you have any idea how cold it is outside? I couldn’t feel my limbs anymore, when the sodding train finally took off.”
After Harry had eventually moved a piece without noticing his mistake, Hermione calmly set him checkmate, ignoring his fake cry of outrage, before she turned to the redhead and said, “I take it the students are all sent off?”
“All gone, the castle’s ours… Well, of course except for the few students that stay here over the hols,” Ron replied with a grin. “I can’t imagine how Hagrid’s doing this every term. I mean, all those students at one place, running around, looking for a compartment, boarding the train, getting off again… And this noise! It almost seems as if this is the last time those kids see each other, especially the girls! Have we ever been this bad?”
“Well, I don’t think that we’ve been this bad,” Harry told him. “But I believe there were some… Like--“
“Lavender, Parvati… or girls in general, I know,” Ron laughed. “And you’ll never believe what a group of girls was talking about! I was just walking past them, when one girl, you know, that fifth year Ravenclaw, Simone something or other, told her friends that she has seen… Oh, you’ll never believe this!” Ron was laughing harder now, his shoulders shaking. “She claimed that she has seen Hermione and Malfoy snogging in his classroom! I tell you, this is the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard, don’t you think so?”
However, when Ron looked at them, he didn’t get a reaction, or at least not the one he had expected. Harry, noticing his friend’s eyes on him, lowered his gaze. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw that Hermione had tensed visibly and that Draco had put his book aside and sat up. Ron raised an eyebrow at their weird behaviour and it was obvious that he was getting suspicious.
But before Ron could put two and two together, Hermione took a deep breath, rose from her chair and walked over to Draco, who now also got up. She stood next to him and then, with a strong voice, said, “Ron, there’s something you should know.” Hermione hesitated and her eyes flickered to Harry, who simply gave her an encouraging nod, which brought a small, confident smile on her face. “Draco was the secret admirer. We’ve been together since Halloween.”
Harry had expected an explosion, yelling, fuming, one of Ron’s infamous tantrums, but nothing happened. His best male friend of eleven years simply stood there, pale and with his mouth slightly parted. The only sound he managed was a quiet and surprised, “Oh.”
“Ron? Mate?” Harry asked carefully, glancing at Hermione who now looked quite uncertain about what she should do in this situation. Just like Harry she had obviously been prepared to deal with a raging Ron, but now all of them were at a loss. “Are you alright?”
Ron’s head turned slowly to Harry. He blinked and then shook his head slightly. “I’m-- I’m sorry… I-- I need to go for a walk.” And then, without another word, he got up, turned on his heels and left the common room, leaving behind two very bewildered friends.
Harry stared at the portrait that had just closed behind Ron. What had just happened? Hermione was looking at him questioningly, when he turned to her -- he immediately noticed the hand Draco had put on her shoulder -- but all he could do was shrug. He knew as much as she about their friend’s weird behaviour, which was nothing, if he was completely honest.
“Do you… Do you think I should…?” she asked uncertainly, again looking at the doorway.
“Go after him?” Harry answered and just shrugged again. “I don’t know…”
Much to their surprise, it was Draco who answered their question. He squeezed Hermione’s shoulder and gently took her chin into his other hand to force her to look into his eyes, as he said with a soft voice, which he obviously only reserved for Hermione, “Personally, I think you should give him some space right now and some time to think. Not that I believe that he’s even capable of this, but you know what I mean. Weasley’ll come back when he’s ready. Don’t worry.”
Those words were everything it took for Hermione to break out in tears, as, Harry guessed, all the tension of keeping such an important part of her life a secret ebbed away. She buried her face in Draco’s chest, who put his arms around her and pulled her close. Harry smiled at this unexpected and unusual show of affection from the former Slytherin Prince and silently retreated into his own room to give the couple some much needed privacy.
Ron didn’t turn up for lunch that day, he wasn’t in his room or the common room in the afternoon and he also wasn’t at dinner. When the other teachers asked for him, Hermione answered that he wasn’t feeling well and had lain down to rest. Harry was growing worried for his friend, but understood that Ron had just had his whole world turned upside down. Harry himself had needed some time to digest the news that his best female friend and his former enemy were an item, so he could barely imagine what Ron was going through now.
On a happier note, Dumbledore was sitting at the round dining table in the middle of the Great Hall, which replaced the House tables for the duration of the holidays, when Harry, Hermione and Draco entered that Hall for dinner that night. As they sat down, Harry noticed with an amused grin on his face that Hermione was nearly bursting with the question that was also going through his head. Did Dumbledore find Norton Newthwaite? But they couldn’t ask that question now, not with the other teachers and some students present.
Dinner was an uncomfortable affair. Neither he nor Hermione could eat a thing and only shoved their food around on their plates, much to Draco’s confusion. When he asked, what was wrong with them, Hermione silenced him with her typical Not now-glare and answered for appearance’s sake that she just wasn’t hungry, as she had been to the kitchens on some business earlier and couldn’t refuse the house elves’ offer of a small snack. Harry only nodded and mumbled something about having been with her.
When the table was finally cleared and teachers and students excused themselves and wished each other a good night, Dumbledore asked the three time travellers to stay for a moment after everyone else was gone. There was the usual twinkle in his blue eyes, as he gazed at them over his half-moon spectacles, but Harry thought that the twinkle was somehow brighter. Or maybe he just imagined it.
“Minerva told me that Ronald isn’t feeling well today,” Dumbledore said once they were alone. “I hope he hasn’t fallen ill now that Christmas is approaching fast.”
“Don’t worry, Albus,” Harry quickly reassured him. “He isn’t sick… Ron’s just…” He shrugged and looked at Hermione for help, but she obviously also didn’t know what to say, so he sighed, ran with his hand through his hair and admitted, “He got some rather… unexpected news this morning and needed to retreat for a while.”
“Ah, I understand,” Dumbledore replied smiling, as he glanced at Draco and Hermione. “It’s good to hear that he isn’t sick, seeing as I was hoping the four of you would join me in my office for a cup of tea or cocoa tonight. I’ve got something important to tell you that shouldn’t be discussed here. Let’s say, in one hour, at eight o’clock?”
“Of course, Albus, thank you,” Hermione told him. “We will see you then…”
On their way out, Harry wondered where he might find Ron. He needed to be present for this and Dumbledore had explicitly said four of them. Just as he was about to walk through the door of the Great Hall, he heard Dumbledore call his name.
“I believe I saw a speck of red on the stands of the Quidditch pitch on my return.”
Looking over his shoulder, Harry flashed the Headmaster a grateful smile, before he parted ways with his friends, who went back to their common room, to look for his best friend.
Just as Dumbledore had said he would, Harry found Ron sitting on the stands of the Quidditch pitch, his thick winter cloak wrapped tightly around to him protect him from the severe cold. It had started to snow again a few moments ago, and there was already a thin layer of flakes on his shoulders and hair. Ron seemed to be far away with his thoughts, as he was simply staring straight ahead, not seeing anything. He didn’t even notice, when Harry sat down next to him. Harry, however, didn’t say anything to get his friend’s attention. He knew Ron -- sooner or later he would snap out of it and see that Harry was there.
They sat together in silence for long minutes. Harry slowly felt the cold penetrate his cloak, as it was soaked by the snowflakes still falling from the sky. Flicking his wrist, he wandlessly and wordlessly put a warming spell on both of them “ it really wouldn’t do them any good to come down with a cold or worse, pneumonia, on Christmas.
Ron didn’t say anything for a long time and Harry feared that he would have to make that first step after all so that they wouldn’t be late for that meeting with Dumbledore. But just as he had made up his mind that they couldn’t wait any longer, his best friend finally spoke.
“I really lost her, didn’t I?”
Harry turned his head and saw his best friend looking at him. His red hair was wet and some strands were hanging in front of his eyes. There was a smile on his face, but it was a sad one. Sighing, Harry simply nodded. “I’m sorry, mate.”
“I should have known,” Ron mumbled, his voice sounding defeated. “I had thought that just with enough time, that maybe, you know, ‘Mione would see that she still loves me and that we could get back together… I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not,” Harry told him forcefully, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing it tightly. “If it were me and…” He shook his head, not wanting to go there right now. Ron didn’t know about the one kiss he and Ginny had shared. “If I loved someone as you love Hermione, I would have done the same in your stead. But, Hermione has moved on and… I know you probably won’t believe a word of this, but Draco’s become a decent bloke. She’s happy with him.”
Ron sighed deeply and turned his gaze back to the pitch. “Do you know what the strangest thing is? I believe you. I’ve seen Hermione during the last few weeks and she was glowing. She might not know it herself yet, but she’s in love. Malfoy really must have changed much for her to fall in love with him. And come to think of it that the whole time, ever since she got the roses on her birthday, I’ve been jealous of Christophe Hayden.” He snorted and buried his face in the palms of his hands.
Soon, Ron’s shoulders began to tremble under Harry’s hand, as silent sobs began to shake his whole body. Harry simply squeezed his shoulder again and sat with him until the sobs subsided and Ron had calmed down. This was all he could do for him, because Ron was right. He had lost Hermione. He had already lost her completely, when he had called her a Mudblood nearly five years ago, and he hadn’t fully realized it until now.
Hermione and Draco were already waiting in front of the gargoyle leading up to Dumbledore’s office, when Harry and Ron finally arrived. Thanks to the invention of drying charms they were no longer soaking wet, but Harry clothes now felt stiff on his skin. He swore that he would never get the complete hang of this charm.
Their footsteps echoed in the otherwise empty hall and both of their friends looked up, when they heard them approach. A hopeful look lit up Hermione’s face, when she saw that Ron was with him, and she took an expectant step forward. Still, she wrung her hands nervously, once Harry and Ron came to a halt in front of them and her voice sounded nervous, when she asked, “Ron? Are you alright?”
Harry noticed a lot of her tension fade, as Ron gave her a hesitant smile. “Not yet, but I’ll be…” the redhead just answered.
“Ron…” Hermione mumbled. “I’m sorry… Please, let me explain…”
Raising his hands in front of him, Ron shook his head with resolve. “No, I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t. Not yet. Besides, Harry told me that Dumbledore needed to talk to us about something important. We shouldn’t let that old man wait, don’t you think?”
She nodded, not looking happy about not being able to talk to Ron about this, to make sure that everything was right between them, but she agreed that the meeting with Dumbledore was more important at the moment. “Let’s go inside. Space Dust.”
The stone gargoyle sprang aside and Draco, standing closest to the staircase, went up first, followed by Harry. A relieved smile spread over Harry’s face, when he overheard Ron’s voice whisper, “I’m not angry at you, ‘Mione, or at Malfoy for that matter. We’re good.” When his two friends caught up with him, Harry showed no sign of having heard this, but his heart still felt lighter. He had feared that their friendship would again be in danger, but Ron had obviously grown up a lot.
Dumbledore was, as usual, sitting behind his desk, but he wasn’t alone. Lily and James, as well as Molly and Arthur were also present, which was a surprise. Harry and Ron immediately greeted their parents warmly, followed by Hermione and Draco, whereas the latter acted a bit more reserved. Once the inquiries as to what they were doing here (“Albus asked us to come by tonight,” Lily told Harry with a wink. “He says there’s something important he needs to tell all of us.”) and short small talk died down, everyone settled down in the plush armchairs that Dumbledore had conjured -- Harry still wondered sometimes, how magic could expand rooms like this for everyone to fit in comfortably without disturbing what was located next to said room --, so that they could start their meeting.
“I know some of you wonder, why I have called in this meeting, while others may also wonder, where I have been these last couple of days,” Dumbledore began, immediately grabbing their full attention. “As I’m sure that you’re not all filled in on the recent discoveries, let me tell you this from the beginning. Due to the lack of news regarding the situation of our visitors, these two intelligent young women,” he nodded towards Lily and Hermione, “took it upon themselves to do more research about the spell, which brought you here, and stumbled upon a book with some valuable information. In this book, a wizard by the name of Norton Lewthwaite claims to have used this spell to travel into his past and to return to his own time afterwards. After the ladies came to me with this information, I decided to track down this wizard. Once I had a lead, I left Hogwarts to look for him in person.”
“But you’re back now,” Hermione suddenly exclaimed eagerly, as the questions that had been plaguing her since she had known that Dumbledore was back, just burst out. “Did you find him? Is there a way for us to go home?”
Albus Dumbledore gazed at her over his half-moon spectacles, the twinkle in his blue eyes brighter than before. “The answer to both of your question is… yes.”