More Important Things

A Subtle Shift

 

All of the things that I want to say

Just aren't coming out right

I'm tripping on words you got my head spinning

I don't know where to go from here

'Cause it’s you and me and all of the people

with nothing to do nothing to prove

and its you and me and all of the people and

I don't why I can't keep my eyes off you

(You and Me—Lifehouse)

~*~

Ginny finished the last line of her transfiguration essay and looked up at her brother and Harry sitting a few tables down.  Luna had already completed her homework and was now working on the rune puzzle in the Quibbler.  Hermione was sitting next to Ginny reading a book.

“So, when were you going to talk to us?” Ginny whispered to Hermione.  Luna looked up at the two of them and set down her puzzle. 

“Talk to you about what?” Hermione asked as she turned a page in the book.

“About you and Malfoy.”

Hermione became very still for the briefest moment before she continued reading.  “What on earth are you talking about?”

“I ran into Ron, literally, in the common room a few nights ago and let me tell you he was angrier than a nest of doxies.  He was ranting about something going on between you and the Slytherin.”

“He’s overreacting.  There’s nothing going on there,” Hermione said.

Luna leaned forward.  “He said that Malfoy called you by your first name.”

Hermione sighed.  “It really wasn’t a big deal,” she protested.  “Ask Harry.  He was there.”

“I did,” Ginny said, “and something explodes in the common room every time Ron brings it up.  I can’t even tell you how many ink jars we’ve gone through.”

“Are you trying to drive Harry insane?” Luna asked.

Hermione blinked at them.  “Drive Harry insane?  What on earth are you two on about?”

Ginny and Luna exchanged long looks before Ginny glanced quickly over at Harry then back to Hermione.  “Hermione, you know that Harry and I broke up, right?”

“In a round about way, yes I heard about it,” Hermione said vaguely.

“And you do know that I’m over him,” she prodded further.

Hermione closed the book she was reading and massaged her forehead.  “Ginny, what exactly is your point?”

Luna leaned forward.  “Hermione…are you using Malfoy to make Harry jealous?”

“What?!”

Harry looked over his shoulder at Hermione, Ginny and Luna huddled together in conversation.  Hermione was wearing a purple cardigan and his favorite pair of low-cut denim jeans.  God he loved those jeans.

“Would you stop undressing our best friend with your eyes?” Ron whispered.  Harry whipped his head back around.

“I wasn’t undressing her with my eyes,” Harry whispered defensively.

“Riiiight,” Ron said. 

They fell back into silence, writing away at their homework.  Harry finished on his first essay, rolled it and stuffed it into his bookbag.  Looking back up, he noticed Ron gazing across the room at Luna.

“Now look who’s undressing who,” Harry jested.

Ron leaned forward and whispered to Harry, “Hey, you’ve had sex, right?”

Harry looked up at him from his paper.  “I’m so not going to go down that road with you.”

“Harry, I’m not asking what Hermione’s like in the sack (Harry threw his quill down in frustration), I just want to know what it’s like.”

Harry ran his hands through his hair.  “You want to know what it’s like?  It’s a friendship killer, that’s what it is.  It fucks everything up and makes it more complicated so it’s just as well that you stay away from it.”

Ron stared at him then narrowed his eyes.  “Do you regret sleeping with Hermione?”

Harry picked up his quill and resumed his homework.  Did he regret sleeping with Hermione?  That was a loaded question.  He guessed the answer would have to be both yes and no.  Yes, he hated the fact that they had crossed that line of friendship and they haven’t been the same since and they never would be the same.  And no, because well…frankly, it was pretty mindblowing sex with her and a part of him wouldn’t mind a repeat.  Oh God, what kind of horrible friend did that make him?

Ron continued.  “’Cos it looked like you were enjoying it at the time.”

“Ron!” Harry hissed.  “Look, just drop it about me and Hermione okay and just get on with what you want to know?”

“Geez,” Ron muttered.  Touchy subject.  “I just wanted to know…how you know when a girl is ready…you know.”

“Wow,” Harry said, putting his quill back down.  “You and Luna, huh?”

“Yeah, our snog sessions are getting a bit heavy and,” Ron lowered his voice some more.  “Quite frankly, I’m leaving them a bit frustrated if you know what I mean.”  Harry tried to keep a blank look on his face to keep from incriminating himself.

“Well, uh, has she…mentioned anything along those lines?” he asked.

“No, not really,” Ron whispered then quickly added, “but she hasn’t said no either.”

“Well, I guess you could try testing the waters, see how far you’ll go and still be okay with it,” Harry offered his best advice.  Personally, he thought he was the wrong person to go about giving his best friend advice on this considering that when he and Hermione got together, it was more of a powder keg waiting to explode rather than a dreamy courtship.

“Yeah, I guess we should do that,” Ron chewed on his lower lip.  “But if you get to that point where she…you know, how do you know what to do?”

Harry shrugged.  He wasn’t even sure he knew what he was doing when he was with Hermione.  He was just acting on instinct and adrenaline alone.  “I guess it just comes naturally.  You just know what to do.”

Ron looked at him.  “You just know,” he repeated plainly.

“For crying out loud Ron.  Humans have been having sex for about a million years, you’d think there was something in our DNA that came with instructions.  It’s just instinct, I guess.”

“I guess,” Ron said morosely.  “But everyone knows I choke under pressure.  Look at my Quidditch skills.”

“Ron, you’re Quidditch skills are just fine and I’m sure that goes with…everything else,” Harry said patiently.  “I’m sure you’ll have Luna singing ‘Weasley Is My King’ from the bedroom in no time.”

Ron grinned.  “Thanks Harry.”

The two of them went back to their homework but after awhile Ron looked up to see Harry looking over at Hermione for what had to be the hundredth time since they sat here.

~*~

It was in Potions class that Harry got a message to go to the Headmistress’ office.  Going up the spiral staircase and knocking on the wooden doors, he was surprised to see Mr. Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt in the room waiting for him. 

“What is it?” he asked.  “What’s happened?”

“Harry,” Mr. Weasley stepped forward.  “Some disturbing information has come across my desk earlier this week.  There was an incident where a diamond choker had nearly strangled a muggle jeweler in London.  The man is fine but during the investigation he revealed that a Mr. and Mrs. Kensington sold him this piece of jewelry along with others, which I might add, were perfectly normal.”

Kingsley spoke up at this time.  “An investigation in our department revealed a Mr. Abraham and Winifred Kensington are the only registered wizards in Scotland but they have never owned such a piece of jewelry and have an alibi to their whereabouts the day this piece was sold to the muggle.”

“An alias?” Harry asked, still unsure of why this concerned him.

“I did some research on the necklace,” Mr. Weasley said, “and found that it belonged to the Black Family.”

This caught Harry’s attention.  “Sirius’?  But I thought we got rid of all the dangerous objects in the house.”  As soon as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true.  The locket went missing now this necklace.  “Mundungus,” he whispered.

“I thought so too,” Kingsley said.  “Until I looked at the muggle jeweler’s security tape the day of the transaction.”

Shacklebolt and Mr. Weasley shared an uneasy look then handed Harry an envelope.  Harry took it and opened it, tipping its contents into his hand.  Black and white photos of Hermione and Draco Malfoy together.

Harry looked up sharply at them.  “Who else has seen these?” he asked.

“Just us two,” Kingsley said.  “Why?”

“Harry, is that really Miss Granger in that photograph?”

“Is she who you wanted to track, Harry?” Kingsley asked.  “Did you know about this?”
Harry sighed.  “She says she’s trying to help him.”

“And you believe her?”

“I have no reason not to.  She’s my best friend.  It’s Malfoy I don’t trust.”

“What is she helping Mr. Malfoy with?” Arthur asked.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“And you’re hoping that she’ll lead you to exactly what’s going on?” Kingsley said.

Harry shifted.  “Something Hermione said to me really sticks out in my mind.  She said that she couldn’t tell me what they were up to.  She wouldn’t willingly hide something like this from me.  I know she wouldn’t.”

“And?” Mr. Weasley prodded further.

“And…how can you tell if someone is under a Fidelius or Unbreakable Vow?” he asked them.

Kingsley and Arthur looked at each other uneasily.

“Harry,” Arthur said, “if Hermione is indeed Draco’s Secret Keeper of some sort.  This investigation will go around in circles until she willingly gives it up.”

“And if she’s not willing to do that.  That must mean he has something big over her head, some sort of leverage that he’s using against her,” Kingsley added.

“Have you heard anything more on Dolohov?” Harry asked.

Kingsley shook his head, “He might have been involved in the Death Eater attack on the Leaky Cauldron but other than that.  Nothing.  The same goes for Malfoy Sr.  However, we have gone through the list of guests that had checked in and out that day and only one is unaccounted for, a Miss Jane Austen?”

“That’s a fake,” Harry said.  “That’s the name of the author of those muggle books that Hermione…likes to read,” he trailed off.  “I’ll see you guys later,” he said and took off out of the office and down the stairs.

He opened his school trunk and pulled out the Marauder’s Map and his invisibility cloak.  Seeing that Malfoy was still in potions and would be for another fifteen minutes, he raced out of his room and down the hall to the dungeons where he vaguely remembered where the Slytherin common room was.  He put on the invisibility cloak at this time as he got nearer to the portrait and he didn’t have to wait too long before a student stepped out of there and he darted past them. 

Assuming that these dorms were similar to Gryffindors, the seventh year boy’s dorm would be on the top floor and would be on the staircase that didn’t turn into a slide when you stepped on it.  But luck was not with him when he saw several doors in front of him.  He didn’t have a lot of time but he was invisible so he began to open them one by one and found that some rooms had bunk beds, two or three singles and some of them had rooms with only one bed.  A room of their own.  Draco’s would be one of these.  And he knew which one it was when he opened the door and saw one filled with expensive robes, an obscene amount of beauty products that no guy should normally have and a dartboard with his own picture on it.  Disturbing.

But, right away Harry began opening desk drawers and thumbing through their contents to see if he could find anything that the Ferret had on Hermione.  He opened the drawers of his bureau (ew!) and used the tip of his wand to go through those items.  He moved to the bookshelf and fanned through every book, then moved to under the bed which oddly enough was clean. 

He heard the chime of the clock and took out the Map, seeing that his classmates and Malfoy were leaving the Potions classroom.  Dissatisfied with finding nothing, he gave up the search and left the Slytherin dorm to rejoin everyone in the Great Hall.  Once in the corridor, he stuffed the map in the pocket of his cloak and the invisibility cloak in his bookbag as he moved to blend in with the students coming out of the classrooms.  But right away, there was a commotion in the hall as he saw Dean shove Blaise up against the wall.

“What’s the big idea?” Dean was saying.  “You could’ve seriously hurt someone in there!”

“It was just an accident,” Blaise shot back.  “Take a joke, you insolent little mudblood.”

Dean made a move for Blaise again but was held back by Seamus.  Ron stepped forward.

“Don’t call him that!  Fifteen points from Slytherin for using that word and another fifteen for your little stunt.”

“Why you little…” Blaise hissed but Draco stepped in front.

“He said it was an accident.  You can’t take points for that Weasel!”

“I’ve got a badge here that says I can,” Ron shot back.

“Oh, do you have a Weasley is a Loser badge, too?”

“No, it says Malfoy Sucks Cock,” Ron replied.

Draco was furious and he quickly drew his wand and before Ron could defend himself, a jet of red light was headed for him only to be deflected to the ceiling by a jet of blue light.  Harry always was a faster draw and he held his wand out as he marched toward the crowd.

“Oh, does Potty want to play?” Draco snarled.  “Good, I’ve been waiting to have another go at you!”

Harry took off his bookbag and shrugged off his cloak, tossing it to the ground as Malfoy did the same, his cloak landing on top of his.

“Harry, NO!”

Hermione came bursting out of the crowd and ran for Harry, standing in front of him and turning to face Malfoy.

“Hermione, move out of the way,” Harry said.

“Stop it now.  The both of you!” she demanded from both of them. 

“Granger stay out of this!” Draco hissed.

Hermione turned to face Harry.  “Harry don’t do this.  Put your wand down.  You’re better than this.”  She glanced back at Malfoy then back up at him.

Harry looked down into her pleading face then back up at Malfoy who was watching them with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Harry,” Hermione persisted.

“Well, I guess one of us has to be a gentleman here,” Draco said as he lowered his wand.

Harry did the same and picked up his cloak as Ron handed him his book bag.  Still keeping an eye on Draco as the crowd began to break up, he put his arm around Hermione’s shoulders, sending a smirk to the Slytherin as he turned and walked away.

*

After dinner that night in the common room, Ron pulled out the chessboard as Harry prepared himself for another crushing defeat by his best friend. 

“That was just bloody brilliant, Harry,” Ron grinned.  “I wonder what he was going to hex me with.”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno, but I hardly think it was a tickling charm,” he said with a grin.

“This isn’t funny,” Hermione said as she and Ginny walked into the room.  “You remember what Professor Smith said about showing them what you can do.”

Harry grimaced.  “Last time I checked, you were getting pretty chummy with ‘Them’”. 

Hermione put her hand on her hip.  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t be such a jerk because Hermione’s right, Harry,” Ginny said.  “Come on, let’s go,” she said as the two of them walked upstairs.

Harry grumpily pushed his pawn forward. 

“Hey I’ve been thinking,” he said.  “Maybe there’s something in Voldemort’s memories that hold some sort of clue as to how to break the cup.”

Ron pushed forward his pawn.  “You-Know-Who’s memories?  What do you mean?”

“Well, like, as he was creating these things.  He had to remember how he created the others, where he hid them, how to destroy them.”

“Yeah, I get that.  But, how do you get those memories?  Don’t you need a pensieve or something?”

“Usually,” he answered, “but I have to wonder if his mind leaves imprints.”

Ron looked up slowly at him.  “What do you mean, Harry?”

“Well, I have to wonder if he left some sort of imprint on those whom he’s…taken over.”

“Like me and Ginny,” Ron stated.

Harry exhaled.  “Perhaps.”

“Are you telling me that I could be walking around with,” he looked around then lowered his voice, “You-Know-Who still in my fucking head?!”

“No, no,” Harry shook his head.  “I’m saying it may have left an imprint.  A memory of a memory.”

“How in the world could you access them?” Ron asked.

Harry stared hard at the chessboard.  “There are…ways.”

Ron captured Harry’s pawn and set it to the side.  “Are you talking about using Legilimency?”  Harry looked up at him, seeing the look of hesitance on his friend’s face.

“Ron, I’m not going to go in there like raging hippogriff,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Ron said evasively, looking away from his friend.

“And I’m not going to go through anything you don’t want me to see.  Things that are private.” Harry had no interest in seeing any snogging sessions between Ron and Luna.

“I dunno,” Ron said, wiping the palms of his hands on his jeans.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Harry said.

“Of course I trust you!”

“So you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you?”

“You promise you’ll just look for…You-Know-Who?”

“Of course,” Harry said.

“Okay, what do I do?” Ron breathed.

“Just relax and look into my eyes,” Harry said.  “Try to think of the moment when you touched the mirror.”

“Okay,” Ron nodded and exhaled.  He thought of the moment by the fountain and looked into his friend’s eyes.  “Hey, Harry?” he said, looking away.

“What?  Yeah?”

“You know you’re my best friend, right?” he asked.  “And that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you either?”

“I know that, Ron,” Harry said.  “Now just relax and think of the mirror.”

Harry had practiced only on a few people.  Aberforth was the first, Lupin was second and Harry got a kick out of all the memories of his father that he had projected to him.  Tonks let him have a go with much threatening not to hold what he saw against her.  (“I was a bit of a rebellious teen.”)  Each mind was different but it pretty much was the same model.  Some sort of long dark corridor or hallway with doors on each side that led to a room that held a memory in ‘real-life’ so to speak, like a scene out of a pensieve.  The doors you ran into first in the hallway were mostly always open, replaying scenes that the person had most recently remembered.  If they had no problem with you seeing it, the door was open, if it was private it was closed (although if you were a jerk, you could still open it) and the person would know what memory you were seeing.  The further down the corridor you went, the doors became more and more decayed and unused, memories locked away and long forgotten until you opened the door and brought them to the forefront.  There were even dark corners of this hallway that had doors that looked like they should never be opened. 

Most of the time when you were using Legilimency, it was to see if someone was lying or hiding something from you, it generally wasn’t used to take a leisure stroll through someone’s mind.  That just violated a moral code.  Unless you were Snape or Voldemort who used the skill as some sort of entertainment but whatever.  The point was, that unless someone used Occlumency against you, it was fairly easy to pick out what someone was trying to hide from you.  They were the doors that had locks on them.  You just had to go and bust through them.  If it was something that they really, really didn’t want you to see.  That door usually stuck out like a sore thumb.

Because Harry hadn’t really mastered the art, he couldn’t control how to ease into someone’s mind.  It was like if you took a running start from one end of the house and skidded to a halt in the corridor, you missed some doors that just blurred past you, wide open until the person realized you were even in there then quickly slammed some doors in your face.

This is what happened in Ron’s mind and as Harry skidded to a halt he could’ve sworn, sworn, that he saw an image of Ron brushing a tear away from Hermione’s face then leaning closer to her before the door slammed, turning red with warning tape all over it and a large blinking light over it.  Reluctantly, Harry turned away from it and continued down the hall.

He walked past the door that showed him walking on the Hogwart’s Express with Hermione and seeing Draco Malfoy at the end of the aisle.  He walked past the memory of himself saying goodbye to the two of them.  He walked past Ron waking up from his possession and then he walked by him reaching in the fountain and picking up the mirror.  Harry stopped and stared at these two doors, there was nothing in between them.  He placed his hands against the flat wall, desperate to find something, anything that would suggest there was a hint of a door.  Harry ran down the corridor, looking for anything that looked suspicious and got as far as Ron’s seventh birthday before he stopped.  There was nothing here, no clue as to what Voldemort did, how he created the horcrux, how to destroy it. 

Frustrated, he walked back down the corridor, back to where he came.  The red door with the tape and the light caught his attention again.  He stood in front of it.  He could just walk away and not open it, he should do that.  But the memory behind that door was haunting him already, coaxing something unfamiliar and unpleasant inside of him to come to the surface roaring.  Harry reached out and yanked the tape from the door and kicked it open.

“I hate this, Ron!” Hermione said. “I hate that we haven't been able to get a hold of him for days. I hate that he won't talk to us. I hate that we're stuck here having to listen to everyone say such horrible things about him.” She began to sob, collapsing into Ron's arms.

Ron held her, patting her awkwardly until it became a natural real embrace.  He moved away from her, his hands moving to cradle her jaw as he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her.

And she kissed back!

The embrace became more heated and hands became more bold until Ron lowered Hermione to the floor, settling himself on top of her.

Harry felt himself being forcibly yanked out of the room and out of Ron’s mind. 

“You swore you wouldn’t look where I didn’t want you to!” Ron said in a panicked voice as Harry stood abruptly.  He rubbed his eyes, wishing he could erase what he had seen from his memory.  Ron lowering Hermione to the floor.  “Harry, listen to me,” Ron said quickly.  “What you saw—“

“Oh. My. God, Ron!” Harry backed away from him, running his hands through his hair.  Why oh why did that image keep playing over and over in his head?  Ron lowering Hermione to the floor.  Ron lowering Hermione to the floor.  He turned away from his friend. 

“Harry, I swear--.”

“You and Hermione,” Harry muttered as he stumbled away from his…friend.  The walls seemed to be closing in on him and he couldn’t breathe.  He was going to be sick.  Ron lowering Hermione to the floor.  Ron lowering Hermione to the floor.

“Harry…”

Harry stumbled toward the door, he could feel energy pulsing through him.  The same kind of sensation he would get when leaping to the roofs of building when being chased by bullies, before blowing his Aunt Marge up.  He had to get out of there.

He hustled down the hall, the memory replaying over and over, fueling his anger and he felt like a boiler with too much pressure, waiting for some kind of release.  He made it to the Astonomy Tower and yanked open the door, eliciting protests from the amorous students there.

“Hey what’s the big idea!”

“Close the damn door!”

Already irritated and angry, Harry snapped at them.  “GET OUT!” he shouted to them causing some of the couples to hastily make an exit.  He climbed the stairs to the balcony that was lined with telescopes.  More frightened couples left, scrambling down the stairs until finally he was all alone.  He stood alone and sank to the ground laying spread eagle facing up to the twinkling stars above.  He imagined that somewhere up there his mother and father were looking down upon him.  Maybe even Sirius and Dumbledore.

“I know you’re thinking that I have no right to be angry,” he said aloud.  “I didn’t come back with them.  I practically shoved her into his arms.”  Harry swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat.  “I know I had it coming.  I just…I just didn’t think it would hurt so bad.”

The stars twinkled above him in response and he slowly began to feel a little better.  He suddenly felt so small and alone in this world looking up at the never-ending universe above him.  Maybe it was his destiny to be alone.  His parents were murdered, leaving him to fend for himself in this world.  Growing up he was alone.  Shunted to the side and locked in the cupboard under the stairs, invisible to the family who raised him.  The curse that Voldemort made of his scar isolated him from his peers, from the wizarding world, he alone had survived the Killing Curse.  And ultimately it would be him, again alone, that was destined to destroy Voldemort. 

“Nothing happened, Harry.”

At the sound of Hermione’s voice, Harry scrambled to his feet, a little embarrassed that she caught him out here by himself.  She stepped out onto the balcony, her hair in a loose plait and looking breathtaking.  A pang of longing shot through him. 

“Hermione, I really don’t--.”

“I wanted you to know, Harry.  Nothing happened between me and Ron.  We stopped before it went any further.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that.  A part of him felt guilty at feeling relieved at her words.  “Why are you telling me this?” he asked.

“Why are you so bothered by it?”  He didn’t answer her, he didn’t know how to.

She walked over to one of the telescopes closest to Harry and peered into the lens.  “It always amazes me how beautiful the sky is.”  She looked up and offered the telescope to Harry who took his turn peering up at the brightly glowing stars. 

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m losing you Harry,” she said quietly, catching his attention.  He looked over at her and saw her looking in the direction of the lake.  The moonlight refracted on its surface, breaking the light so it looked as if the lake were sparkling. 

“I feel like I’m losing us,” she continued.

Harry looked at her.  “I feel like I already lost us.”

Hermione looked at him, her eyes moist with tears.  Harry reached out and pulled her into an embrace. 

“Oh, what are we going to do?  How can we fix us?”

“I don’t know if we can,” he said into the top of her head, stealing a small kiss there.  “But your friendship means the world to me.”

“It means the world to me too,” she sniffled as she stepped away to look up at him.

He grinned softly.  “Well, we have that and that’s always a start.”

Hermione felt it then.  The shift within her, the ray of light that pierced the darkness within her, illuminating the obvious.  It was at that moment, that she realized she was in love with her best friend.  She had always loved him, will always love him.  She shivered at the thought.

“Are you cold?” Harry asked, feeling like a complete idiot for not offering his cloak sooner as he shrugged the garment off.

“No, Harry, it’s okay…what is it?” she asked suddenly as Harry stopped and stared at the cloak.  Embroidered on the inside tag were the initials: D.M.

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice was full of alarming concern.

“Oh no,” Harry breathed.  “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.  This can’t be happening!”

*

Ron looked at the cloak.  “So you’re saying that this is the Ferret’s?” he asked and Hermione nodded.  Ron dropped the cloak immediately and wiped his hand on his shirt.  Harry was pacing back in forth in the common room, his hair sticking out at odd ends from the endless running of his hands through it.

“How can I be so stupid?!!” Harry ranted and threw himself face down on the sofa.

“So, let’s see if I get this right,” Ron said.  “You put your invisibility cloak in your bookbag and the Map in your cloak.”  Harry made a sound in the cushions that resembled a yes.  “Then somehow your cloaks got switched so now the Ferret has your cloak and the Map?”  Harry groaned.  “Harry, how can you be so thick?!”

“Ron, you’re not helping,” Hermione snapped at him and knelt down next to Harry, patting his back soothingly.  “Harry, we’ll get it back.  Maybe Malfoy doesn’t know he has your cloak.  You didn’t realize the mistake until recently.  Let’s just go down there and get it back.”

Harry looked up sharply at her and got off the couch.  “No!  Not you,” he said pointing at her.  “I don’t want you anywhere near that Ferret Face.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous Harry!” Hermione scoffed.  “I’m Head Girl and have access to all the common rooms.  What were you and Ron going to do?  Sneak in there with your invisibility cloak?”

“Maybe,” Harry defended his budding plan that Hermione was threatening to squash.

Hermione tutted and rolled her eyes.  “Honestly, Harry.  Don’t make things so complicated.  I’ll be back in a moment,” she said.

“Whoa, whoa whoa!” Harry said, trotting to her side.

“You honestly don’t think we’re letting you go there alone?” Ron said. 

“Whatever,” Hermione sighed, “let’s just get this over with quickly.”

*

Inserting her Head Girl badge into the appropriate slot next to the portrait, the door swung open and Hermione stepped inside.  The common room was silent and no one was up because of the late hour.  But it was a mess as if they had a party here and Hermione frowned at the sight of some of the House Elves cleaning up.

“Guess they had a party here,” Ron said, surveying the mess.

“And I know who the guest of honor was,” Harry said, pointing up.

There, hanging from the ceiling was an effigy of Harry, a straw dummy complete with glasses and scar drawn on its face.  He guessed that was where the straw mess came from in the room.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione frowned.  “They made a piñata out of you.”

“A what?” Ron asked but Hermione ignored him as she released the dummy, sending it crashing to the floor.

“You couldn’t give me a better landing?” he said grumpily to Hermione as he moved forward to pick up his cloak, dusting the straw off of it.  Harry checked the pockets and it came as no surprise to him that they were empty. 

“Nothing?” Ron asked and Harry shook his head no.  “Well then…accio Map,” Ron said with a flick of his wand and papers around the room came flying at him, along with a large globe and he shielded himself from the attack.  The house elves frowned at the new mess. “Sorry.”

The three of them searched through the papers but came up empty handed.  “You don’t think he has it, do you?” Ron asked.

Harry nodded.  “Yeah, I know he does.”

Breakfast the next morning consisted of Hermione listening to Harry and Ron plot a way to get into Draco’s room and search it.  She rolled her eyes at them.  Her repeated requests to just ask Draco for the folded piece of parchment back was met with a resounding and repeated No from Harry.  So she opted to sit back and just watch this fiasco unfold in front of her.

“I’m surprised you didn’t keep the cloak, Potter,” Draco sneered.  He stopped at the Gryffindor table surrounded by his usual entourage.  “I figured you’d want to keep something that was infinitely more nice than anything you’ve ever owned.”

“Is there something you wanted, Malfoy?” Harry asked, irritated.

“Did you lose something Potter?” he asked with a smirk.  Harry didn’t answer him, only narrowed his eyes.  “Try searching my room…again,” he said and left with his groupies following him.

“What did he mean by ‘again’, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing,” Harry muttered.  He was not about to give away the fact that he was searching for something that Malfoy was holding against Hermione.

“You searched his room before?” her eyes widened.  “What were you looking for?”

“Just drop it, Hermione,” Harry said.

“You said you were going to trust me on this, Harry,” she said and got up to leave the table in a huff.  It was always one step forward, two steps back with their friendship lately.

*

Harry and Ron’s search that afternoon in Draco’s room yielded nothing.  And in the evening they walked through the portrait door after coming back from searching Crabbe and Goyle’s room and looking a little disturbed by it.  Hermione sat with Ginny and Neville, sighing and rolling her eyes at them.  The next day they tried searching Pansy’s and Blaise’s room but again they couldn’t find it.

“Maybe he threw it out,” Ron suggested.

“No, he didn’t,” Harry sighed.  “He’d be curious to wonder why I would be carrying a thick folded blank piece of parchment.  He may be a wanker but he’s not stupid.”

Hermione couldn’t stand it anymore and she left the common room.  She knew Harry was right and that Draco had to have kept it, probably trying to figure out how he could make it reveal it’s secret.  She made her way to the Slytherin common room.  She had a way to get Draco to give up the Map to her.