Chapter One - The Pact
Harry watched his classmates racing from the castle. They were laughing and chatting together, anxious to be going home for the holidays. The horseless carriages began their trek down the road to Hogsmeade Station, rocking to the rhythm of the unseen thestrals. It seemed the entire student body had left Hogwarts for Christmas this year - except for the three lounging by the cozy fire in the Gryffindor common room: Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
Harry loved spending Christmas at Hogwarts; it never even occurred to him to go home - if you could call it a home. Although he had to admit, his brief stay over the summer was not as bad as usual. He was given plenty of freedom, and his immense, piggy cousin, Dudley, had gone to the home of a friend for the summer holidays - very surprising that, as his mum, Harry's Aunt Petunia, coddled and petted him every moment when he was at home. He didn't know how she could bear being away from her "ickle Duddy Darling" for the whole of summer. Harry had noticed her watching him sometimes, and the look on her face was neither one of disgust or disdain. It was something - softer, somehow. Harry supposed she was feeling sorry for him.
That had been a difficult time for Harry, even without the constant pressure from the Dursleys. He had been grieving the loss of his godfather, and blaming himself for his death. Over and over, whenever he closed his eyes, he could see again Sirius' slow, graceful fall through the veil. Harry had tortured himself repeatedly with the thought that, no matter what Dumbledore had said about his godfather's death being his fault, it was he, Harry, that had led Sirius to the Department of Mysteries. And to his death at the hands of Bellatrix. Her cruelly laughing face, too, had visited his nightmares regularly.
It was only after Harry has been removed from the Dursleys to spend the rest of the summer at number 12 Grimmauld Place, that he began to come to terms with his godfather's death. There, he spent many long nights talking with Remus Lupin. He discovered his former professor was also tortured, weighted down under a load of grief equal to Harry's own. As Professor Lupin and Harry spent more time together over the next few weeks, Harry began to see himself in the tormented soul of his friend and mentor. He saw the uselessness of blaming himself for the miseries of the past. Remus and Harry were able to comfort one another on the loss of Sirius Black
His loyal friends, too, gave solace to Harry as they spent time together at number 12. They were diligently continuing their cleaning project from the previous summer, and Harry found that rather than being a burden to be back in his godfather's house, it actually gave his some peace to be putting it to rights. Just the close, familiar, and faithful presence of those who knew him best was a balm to his wounded heart. He began to remember Professor Dumbledore's words about love being Harry's greatest power - and he began also to see, and understand for perhaps the first time, just how much he was loved by others. He wondered if it was this that would save him, when the time came for him to finally face Voldemort on his own; this overwhelming power of which Dumbledore had spoken.
Harry was brought out of his reverie by the slightly perturbed voice of Hermione. "Harry - were you even listening to me?"
"Sorry, Hermione, no." He saw Ron rolling his eyes. "Did I miss something?"
Hermione shook back her bushy brown hair as she set her orange cat, Crookshanks, down next to the comfortably flickering fire. "I said, we should make a pact for the Christmas holidays." She looked over at Harry smugly.
Harry glanced at Ron, who had a look of supreme long-suffering on his face as he sank more deeply into his favorite armchair. "Here we go again," his friend whispered.
Harry grinned. Ordinarily Ron would have said this out loud, but in the past few months Harry has noticed that Ron was at least trying to be less exasperating to Hermione. "What sort of pact did you have in mind, Hermione?" he asked, hoping it had nothing to do with S.P.E.W and not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.
"Well," she said, sitting up a little straighter in the squashy armchair. "I was thinking we should agree to not talk about the War, or our training, or anything having to do with Voldemort - oh, please, Ron - during the holiday break. We've been working so hard, and it seems like it's all we ever talk about. I think we all" - and here she looked pointedly at Harry, “need a break. We should just have fun this Christmas," she finished brightly.
Ron's mouth was agape. "Hermione, are you feeling alright? You want us to just have fun this Christmas?"
"Yes, Ronald, to both questions" she replied cheekily. "What do you think, Harry?"
Harry didn't have to think long on this. Hermione was right; they had been working hard. In addition to the more advanced classes they were taking to begin preparing for their NEWT exams in their seventh term, Harry was also leading the DA again this year - although he was getting more help with it this time. Professor Emmeline Vance, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was proving an invaluable resource to Harry. Professor Dumbledore had brought her in, wanting a member of the Order of the Phoenix to serve as instructor, and she was brilliant, in Harry's opinion.
Along with their advanced lessons, Harry, Ron and Hermione had been meeting for private lessons with the Headmaster. In his will, Sirus had named Albus Dumbledore Harry's guardian, though few knew this, as no one wanted the headmaster to be accused of "playing favorites." Harry continued to work on his occlumency, and began formal instruction in legilimency, something for which he had shown great aptitude. The others were being instructed in this as well. Hermione and Harry were now progressing at a good pace, but Ron was struggling. Dumbledore thought the Brain attack of the previous year might still be affecting Ron, and Harry was glad someone else thought so. Ron had been acting strangely all year, and had been particularly prone to fits of giggles at the most inopportune times. He didn't always seem to be thinking clearly, either. Harry had walked in on Ron a few times to find him staring into space, looking blankly at nothing. When Harry spoke his name, it seemed to take Ron a few moments to realize he was there. Of course, Harry had also walked in on Ron staring at Hermione with a puzzled look on his face - Harry wasn't so sure this was a result of the Brain attack, though…
"I think your pact is a great idea, ‘Mione," said Harry. "We could do with some fun."
"I definitely agree," came a voice from behind him. "What are we talking about?" They all turned to see vibrant red hair swinging behind an angry-looking Ginny as she stomped into the room, the portrait closing gingerly behind her.
"Ginny!" Ron jumped up from his seat by the fire. "I thought you were on your way to the Thomas's for Christmas! Did you miss the carriages?"
Ginny plopped down hard into the chair next to Hermione, folding her arms across her chest. "No, Ron, I didn't miss the carriage. I'm not going."
"Not going? But Ginny, why?" asked a concerned Hermione. "Did something happen with Dean?"
Ginny let out a long, slow breath. "No, nothing happened with Dean. Something happened with me. I just realized I've been going out with the biggest git in Gryffindor!"
Ron's ears went a brilliant shade of red. "Why?" he blustered. "What'd he do to you? Did he try something fresh in the carriage? Where is he?" He started off towards the portrait hole. Harry snagged the back of his jumper and pulled him back.
Ginny giggled, despite her anger. "Something fresh, Ron? No, nothing like that." Ron breathed a sigh of relief. "Although maybe you should go check on Dean. I think he might have a black eye."
"Ginny!" exclaimed three voices at once.
"Why'd you hit him?" asked Harry. "What did he do?" He had a hard time picturing Ginny taking a swing at someone who wasn't her brother - even though he knew her red hair was an accurate indicator of her fiery temper.
"He told me to quit the Quidditch team," she answered, her ears turning as red as Ron's had just been. "He's been hinting about it all year. He says I'm not spending enough time with him. But when I do spend time with him," she fumed, "all he talks about is homework, or exams, or getting into the ministry. Or Hannah Abbot," she added under her breath. "Anyway, I should've broken up with him ages ago. All we really do is fight, anyway."
Ron looked curiously at Hermione at these words.
"Ginny, I'm sorry," said Harry sincerely. He hated to see her looking so miserable. He had stopped thinking of her as just his best mate's little sister a long time ago. She had proven herself a true friend last term, when Harry almost left Grimmauld Place and all that he loved. He had been afraid of allowing Voldemort access to his friends through him. It was Ginny who had insisted he talk to her, who reassured him he had not been possessed by the Dark Lord by sharing with him her own horrible experience of it. And she had proven herself a mature and capable young woman, as well as a commanding witch, during the battle at the Department of Mysteries last year.
She met his eyes. "Thank you, Harry," she smiled sadly. "Anyway, what's this pact you were talking about when I came in?"
Hermione explained her pact, and Ginny agreed that it was a lovely idea. "Are you sure you don't mind me joining you?" she asked. "It looks like I'll be stuck here through the break, with Mum and Dad off on assignment for the Order."
"‘Course you'll join us!" said Harry emphatically. "You're one of us, you know."
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Just like the four Marauders!"
Harry thought fondly of Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs - and uneasily about Wormtail. No one else seemed to notice the furrow that flitted briefly on his brow.
Hermione stood. "Alright then, everyone stand up and join hands." Ron and Harry glanced nervously at each other, before reaching out and joining hands. Ron gulped and gingerly took Hermione's. Ginny slipped hers into Harry's. He was amazed at its softness and warmth. She gave him a slight smile.
"Repeat after me: We do solemnly swear…"
Dutifully they repeated, "we do solemnly swear…"
"To make no mention of the War…"
"To make no mention of the War…" Ron began to giggle.
"Or to fret about exams…"
"Or to fret about exams…"
"Or to do anything but have fun and just be kids this Christmas break."
The others repeated Hermione's words, Ron giggling madly all the while. His laughter was infectious, and they all began to giggle along with him. In no time they were laughing uproariously, and had all collapsed on top of each other, with Crookshanks sniffing disapprovingly by the fire.