No Longer Helpless

Chapter Twenty-Seven
An Affirmation of Feelings

Harry, Ron and Ginny had been down by the shores of the far side of the lake. They were skipping stones, having made a contest out of it.

Ginny seemed very capable at it. In fact, she was so good Ron decided it wasn’t fair that she play.

“Just because my aim and technique are better than yours,” she pouted as she sat down on a boulder up a little ways and contented herself to simply watch.

Without Ginny playing Harry was only half heartedly throwing stones, which was how the game started in the first place. None of them really wanted to go anywhere or do anything without Hermione, but they didn’t know where she’d run off too. Besides, after what happened this morning, Harry felt bad and wasn’t sure what he was going to say to her the next time he saw her.

It seemed that coming down to the lake to simply find the flattest rock and skip it eased any troubled mind, if only a little.

Ron was in a right state, fuming over Malfoy. How dare the ferret presume to know Hermione better than them. He’d have to rethink his concession for her to train as an Auror. If Malfoy was involved then it was definitely not a good idea. But, Hermione was so happy this morning, how could he go back.

As their inner battles raged, they threw larger rocks further and further. It was a few minutes after Ginny had quit and opted for mused silence, when a familiar gruff voice broke the sounds of birds and rocks splashing.

“Affer noon, ‘arry, Ron. Oh, and I see your ‘ere too Ginny!” The Games Keeper greeted, striding from the direction of the forests’ entrance.

“Hagrid!” Ginny shouted, bounding from her stone seat and giving their old friend a warm hug. It was a decidedly Hermione type of welcome.

“And you’d all be in a right state, I’d ‘magine. I ‘eard about ‘Mione’s training with that Malfoy. Never got me the chance to watch ‘em mind ya, but Moody does nothing’ sides rave about it.” He chuckled nervously, hoping to make light of what surely weighed heavy on the three Gryffindors’ hearts.

There was so much they didn’t know, and while they were all valued members of the Order, it wasn’t their place. Six years of childish taunting was nothing in light of recent events. Surely, they were mature enough to see that.

For the past summer, Hagrid had been away, by request of Dumbledore, trying yet again to reason with the Giants. ‘Another tribe, another chance’ had been the hope. Aside from Gwarp, who was coming along finely, there was no one. It would seem, word had spread rapidly and the impossible, that is the various bands of Giants coming together, had come to pass. Voldemort now had a loyal group of brainless but brawny followers. While the comparison seemed relatively close to the followers he currently had, the Giants were by far a fiercer ally.

How many more magical creatures would he con and coax? How much stronger could he make his army? The light’s fight was becoming a struggle.

There was a ray of hope, which was the entire discussion of their last big Order gathering. If Harry and Ron could accept Malfoy, then they’d have a force to be reckoned with. Only time would tell. And any interference on his or an outsider’s part wouldn’t help. Their acceptance had to be entirely of their own will, no goading or pressure from anyone.

In truth, Hagrid had been so sidetracked in his task of negotiations that he’d forgotten just how long he’d been away. He hadn’t been there for the end of the school year, so the last time he’d seen his favorite students was in late May.

A tear came to his dark beetle like eyes as the youngest Weasley gave him a welcoming hug. It seemed as though she instinctively knew that he needed one, after so many stressful and useless days of trying to plead his case and convince the brainwashed mind’s of his fellow Giants to join their cause.

Patting her on the head, careful to be gentle, he looked to the other two boys, smiling behind his massive beard.

“Hagrid!” Harry greeted, still not too old to show his enthusiasm.

“Hey there!” Ron came, moving away from the waters. “What have you been up to?” he asked, obviously hinting at his teacher’s absence from school the previous quarter.

“Not much, Order business s’all.” He scratched his head a bit nervously.

“Uh huh.” Ron nodded, giving him a piercing gaze, but not making any further inquiries.

“It’s been too long. We missed your class,” Harry stated, seeing the weary look to Hagrid’s appearance, he felt it was his duty to lift the older man’s spirits.

The gleam to Hagrid’s eyes became more prominent and he had to sniff to keep his tears back. While he was usually an emotional man, this was a particularly high-strung moment for him. He was in fragmented pieces at the moment. Overjoyed at seeing Harry and Ron again, but depressed at his failure and dark looking future.

Ginny piped in, steering the subject back to where she wanted it, “So, what do you think about our ’Mione training to be an Auror?”

“Well… I think that subject is best discussed over a pot o’ tea.” His voice sounded slightly more content at the idea of relaxing in his cabin.

Once the four of them, five if you count Fang, were settled in, Hagrid set the water and let it simmer the old fashioned way. There seemed something even more soothing in using menial methods to make his food and tea. It wasn’t as though he missed using magic, since he never had the chance to fall into a routine with it.

The air outside wasn’t chill, but the roaring fire was welcomed nonetheless. Fang lay dozing, spread out before the hearth, and the rest of them took the couch and armchairs. The slouch in Hagrid’s posture told them further of his ‘Order business’, which they wouldn’t pry in to.

“Now then,” he sighed before reiterating, “What do I think of ‘ermione’s trainin’?”

Ginny, for her part, was a little shocked that Hagrid was going to answer the question. Usually he used some sort of stalling method or diversion tactic to avoid answering questions he thought he shouldn’t. Not that this was a touchy topic, for her at least, but she got the vibe he didn’t really want to get involved.

Ron spoke up first, before Hagrid even had time to collect and voice his thoughts. After all, Ron seemed to be the most opinionated on the topic. “I don’t think she should be doing it.” A harsh elbow in the ribs from his sister caused him to cry out a little. “Ow, Ginny, what was that for? A man’s entitled to his opinions!”

“Yeah, if the boy thinks first!” she retorted. “Hermione’s old enough to make her own choices. Give her a break. You’re still hung up about Malfoy.”

“Yeah?” he said incredulously. “And you’re not? The ferret has been our enemy for the past six years. Now he’s suddenly on our side, without giving a good reason I might add. What do you expect me to do?” He inhaled, having used all but a single breath to argue that one. “I should think you’d be on my side here Gin. After all, it is our family he was making fun of, for six years!”

Sympathy and understanding flashed through her hazel eyes. “Ron, I know all that. But I don’t think he was making fun of us so much as his father was. And he does have a good reason for being with us. And, don’t get angry with me for saying this, but the past six years mean nothing. You guys were eleven, eleven!” Her voice carried an incredulous tone. “It was bickering, like what we did when we were younger.” Somehow she knew the last bit was too much, and she cringed at his reaction.

True to his heated nature, Ron flew off the handle, standing and towering over her. “That ferret is nothing like a sibling. We have never bickered like that before!”

“Ron, you agreed last night. What’s changed?” she redirected.

“What’s changed? I’ll tell you, what’s changed,” he mocked. “That slimy, stuck up, pretty boy, thinks he knows our ‘Mione better than we do! She’s our girl, not his, what makes him think he can take her away?”

It was Ginny’s laughter that burst his bubble, and while he wanted to be even angrier with her for laughing in such a situation, he couldn’t. Sitting back down he sulked, “What’s so damn funny?”

Riding out the last of her amusement she sipped her freshly poured tea before explaining. “Ron, honestly. Today, this morning, he did seem to know her better. We didn’t even see how scared she was, and you know she wouldn’t have said anything. It was a good thing he came down to the pitch. Once he said something I could see it right away. She wasn’t sweating from being tired, she was scared stiff.”

She took another sip of her tea. It was quite good. Her eyes were downcast, hidden beneath a strawberry-blond fringe of lashes. She was debating whether or not to completely speak her mind on this. “If you ask me, I’d say he truly cared,” she commented softly.

Ron’s mouth gaped, and no words came out. The redhead looked over to Harry, who seemed brooding over each word silently, for support.

When Harry finally stirred and seemed to notice Ron was giving him a cue to speak his affirmation of Ron’s side, he looked up. His emerald eyes were clouded and masked, which was why no one was able to gauge his reaction before his words were spoken. “You think so too Gin?” he asked sincerely.

Ginny was surprised, but not shocked at Harry’s question. He was more level headed about these things, and from his recent behavior she could now tell that the very thought she’d voiced was what had been troubling him for some time. “Yes,” was her only reply. She wondered if he’d speak further.

The dark hair young man merely hummed in acknowledgment, but refrained from vocalizing further depth to his thoughts.

Seeing the aghast expression on Ron’s face, Hagrid chimed in, “So, you think Malfoy cares for ’ermione?”

Nodding Ginny, explained further, “It seems that way. And from what Hermione says, she cares about him too. Let’s face it you guys, they’re not just partners.” She gulped. “They’re friends.”

“No, NO!” Ron intoned. “That’s wrong!”

Harry seemed to have a severe look about him. “I saw it last night, you guys were asleep, but I saw it,” he mumbled.

Ginny was long used to Harry’s half thought half voiced words, so she naturally prompted him to explain further, since he wouldn’t even noticed he’d said something. “What did you see?”

His eyes searched the fire, as if all the answers were somewhere within the flames. He was in debate over what his instincts told him and what his mind told him. Last night’s debate in the Gryffindor common room consisted of Ginny lecturing them and pushing for their acceptance over the matter of Hermione being an Auror.

None of their conversation dealt with Malfoy, since they didn’t want to deal with it so soon. Now, what he’d been thinking over since last night and this morning was beginning to haunt him. It just didn’t seem right, how could Malfoy be a good guy, how could he actually care about Hermione. The worst part was, the Slytherin didn’t seem to just care. Malfoy seemed to care as much as they did.

Finally tearing his gaze from the crackling hearth, Harry answered, bearing all he’d been envisioning over and over, “Not a minute after Hermione was out of bed, Malfoy had woken up. It was as if he couldn’t sleep with out her there. He seemed jealous of me, like he should be the one acting the role of her best friend. And then he, well, he took her back and got all sappy, affectionate. I swear it was like when Hermione wasn’t herself that one time and was clinging to Malfoy for dear life.”

He paused for a brief moment, and then continued. “I saw it in his eyes. In six years of our fighting, I’ve only ever seen the occasional anger in his eyes, but last night…” He trailed off.

“What did you see Harry?” Ginny prompt again.

“Love,” he finished, causing Ron and Hagrid to choke on their tea, which they’d made the mistake of sipping at the wrong moment. “Like, our love. He cared, like we do. I don’t understand. Is it even possible?” he asked genuinely to Ginny, as if she had all the answers in her pocket.

“Of course,” she supplied. “He’s not made of ice. I think it must go back to his father,” she surmised. “I’ll bet you anything, the only reason he acted like such a prick was because he wasn’t allowed to act any other way. I’ll bet Hermione’s the first real friend he’s ever had.”

Ron rubbed his face harshly with his hands before setting down his cup a little too hard. The tea sloshed over one side, but he made no apologies. Standing again, he strode for the door, the only words they could discern from his angry muttering as he wrenched to door open was, “Bullocks!” And with a slam of the thick wooden door, he was gone.

Hagrid had the feeling that the whole situation might be awkward for him if he’d known them a day less, but as it was he sat calmly, too tired to chase after the moody redhead. “He took that a trifle better than expected,” he commented, sincerely.

“Harry, what do we do?” Ginny asked worriedly.

“Let him cool off I suppose,” the dark haired boy answered, sitting further down into the cushion of his chair.

“Not about Ron, about Hermione,” she corrected, knowing full well that Ron was off to he castle to storm around the common room for a bit.

Before Harry could reply, a small knock sounded at the front door of the cabin. Only one person ever knocked so mildly and meekly. Knowing who it was caused Ginny’s eyes to widen in surprise and Harry to sit up straight again.

Seeing their reactions, Hagrid faltered slightly in his call to the visitor. “Uh, come in.” If he weren’t so dead tired, he’d answer the door himself.

A mop of lengthy and silky brown waves and curls appeared through the cracked doorway. “Hey guys,” Hermione greeted, but upon seeing Hagrid her slow and timid greeting was thrown out the window.

Hermione bolted in through the now wide-open entryway and practically threw herself at Hagrid, who had stood up just in time. “Hagrid!” she cried, “I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve watched everyday to see if you might have come back home! And then I saw the smoke and I just knew!”

An emotional and heartfelt welcome just wasn’t the same if it wasn’t from Hermione. At this point, Hagrid could no longer contain himself. Crying out right, he answered her, “Bless yer little ‘eart. I’ve missed yeh too.” A massive hand hugged her small shoulders, as tears escaped his eyes.

No one seemed to notice the tall, built figure leaning on the doorframe, not stepping over the threshold. Draco waited patiently as Hermione greeted the big oaf, who gave new meaning to the phrase, ‘bumbling fool.’

Harry was the first to notice. While Hermione was still hugging Hagrid and Ginny was searching for a large enough handkerchief, Harry saw Malfoy in the doorway. Standing up, trying to stretch his height, though they were equaled, he just stared at the blonde haired Slytherin.

The air almost crackled as grey stormy eyes met severe emerald ones. The two boys didn’t move, but searched the eyes of the other for something. Draco was the first to look away, casting a warm glance over at Hermione, as she too had begun to cry a little.

When Draco looked back at Harry, he found the dark haired boy’s gaze had shifted to rest on Hermione also. When Harry had turned back from where Draco had been looking he felt compelled to do something he never thought he’d ever do. Harry gave a curt nod of acceptance. Draco’s response was much the same, a single nod, before stepping into the cabin and coming closer.

The die was cast. There was no turning back. Oddly enough Harry felt relief and calm in his decision. He had searched those stone cold eyes for some flicker of the emotion he’d seen before. But, he found none, and he’d almost given up. Then, when Malfoy had looked over at Hermione, he saw it, plain as day. Concern and amusement were suddenly dancing within those luminescent depths, and the liking he felt for Hermione all but radiated off him.

This was all Harry needed. This was the undeniable truth. Malfoy cared for Hermione, which meant immediate acceptance.

Breaking away from Hagrid, Hermione turned around to call Draco in. Imagine her surprise when she found Draco and Harry standing side by side, not fighting, and not even indifferent, but rather in a natural manner. It was enough to make her stop dead in her tracks. Her honey eyes searched emerald and then grey, before repeating the process.

When Harry quirked a grin at her, she smiled brightly, knowing everything was fine for now.

Guilt spurred her forward, and she hugged Harry, easily falling into a warm embrace. She spoke in a muffled voice, for her face was at his chest. “I’m so sorry for this morning. I should have told you, but I didn’t want to let you guys down. Please forgive me?”

Ruffling her hair, Harry regarded her apology as preposterous. “No, Hermione. I’m the one who should apologize. I’m sorry for not noticing sooner,” he soothed.

Draco had to bite back his retort, wanting to comment sarcastically on the sickening display before him. Okay, so it wasn’t disgust he felt, more jealousy at his Hermione in another man’s arms. But, he held a shaky place as it was, and any snide comments would break his foundation.

Ginny seemed to notice Draco’s internal struggle with holding his tongue, so she chirped in with a smirk, “Well, now that we’re all terribly sorry over nothing, let’s sit down and talk about something else.”

Hermione’s heart soared at the prospect of involving Draco in one of their fireside chats. It was intimate and a first step to belonging. But, as her eyes searched the room, her spirits fell. “Where’s Ron?” she asked.

“Oh, he had to go for a little bit. Mum called him home,” Ginny answered. Luckily, as Hagrid and Harry threw her scandalized glances, Hermione was focused on Malfoy.

Malfoy saw the looks though. As they all took their seats, he caught the female Weasley’s eye and gave her a questioning look, to which she shook her head as if to say, ‘Don’t ask.’

Shrugging his shoulders, Draco sat on the lumpy couch beside Hermione, wondering what they could possibly talk about.


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