Hunter and Prey

Harry regretted doing that as his friends slid quietly to the floor. But it had been a long day and he was not in the mood for another of their arguments. Hermione would not be going to the Burrow. She wouldn’t find it restful there however much Ron wanted to keep her where he thought she belonged. He was wrong. Flowers were not going to make up for this mistake. Harry rubbed his scar reflexively. When did he become the sensible one?

He took Hermione carefully home to his apartment. He and Ginny were saving up for a house. Harry wanted a warm, welcoming place like the Burrow where he would never have to leave or hide or be shut away. But that took Galleons, so they rented a flat in Exeter and flooed to work. He tucked her into the bed in the spare room while he returned to her house to convey Ron to the bosom of his family.

Molly was there. She took her son with an exclamation of worry and outrage but nodded when Harry apologised. He gave her the wildflowers, saying they were from Ron. He squared it with his conscience as he went back for Crookshanks. It wasn’t like Hermione would have accepted the bouquet and she had suggested Molly.

Crookshanks, Crookshanks’s witch and Crookshanks’s witch’s friend went to Hogwarts. Harry hadn’t planned to take the cat with him in the same trip as he found it difficult to Apparate accurately with more than one person but Crookshanks had grafted himself to Hermione the instant he was reunited to her. There was no persuading him otherwise. Harry wished he could be as effortlessly smug as the flat-faced cat.

Classes were just finishing and the halls were crowded. He charmed them to look like students, Gryffindor of course, then helped Hermione to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was there and suspicious. She knew all the students by sight if not by name though sometimes she still thought of them as wide-eyed 1st years not the grownups they transfigured themselves into being. Harry dropped the charm to assuage her alarm.

“Harry Potter, I thought the days when you would stagger into my infirmary were over.” She said lightly, taking Hermione from him to tuck her into bed. The Healer thought he looked a little strained but that dreadful wound-up tension of his school years had left him. He was his own man and had finally managed to do something with his unruly hair.

“So did I.” Harry replied wryly. He cast a charm he thought of as the ‘Cone of Silence’ then explained what had happened. Until Ron had run his mouth off, they had managed to keep quiet the less salubrious aspects of the case. He had been most particular in the report he submitted to the Ministry, trying to spare Hermione’s reputation. There would be sniggering now. All those snobs laughing behind their hands. He could have throttled Ron. Ginny had been so upset she had Braxton Hicks, which had put him into a panic three weeks early.

Madam Pomfrey listened, and thought if anything would bring on a miscarriage this would. Sometimes she wished she could charm cottonwool around everyone so no one would get hurt. Then sit quietly with a cup of tea and this week’s Witch Weekly before Pomona got her hands on it and it forever smelled of compost. But she settled for patting Harry’s shoulder, assuring him Hermione was in good hands and sending him off to speak with Minerva.

“There, there, Ms Granger, everything is alright.” Madam Pomfrey used her brisk voice. Some children responded well to soothing, some to jollying but an efficient tone had always roused Hermione best. She was coming out of the Stupefy quickly, having built up a resistance most likely.

“Harry Stunned me.” Hermione realised. The sneaky wretch had actually used a wand on her! Once the surprise wore off and she relaxed back against the pillows, she was willing to concede it was a bit of a relief. Having another of Those Conversations with Ron did not appeal. She rubbed her forehead, feeling muzzy but not too bad. Harry’s heart hadn’t been in the curse.

A fluffy orange face rubbed itself against her chin. Crookshanks gave her a very flattering view of himself as he migrated down the bed, walking around her stomach to sit on her legs and purr like an engine. He was happy. Hermione didn’t know what she was, other than generically angry. She closed her eyes for a moment.

She opened them again with a start at the sound of Professor McGonagall’s raised voice. Had she dozed off in class? Hermione sat up and shook her head at herself. It was bad enough she’d nodded off but to think herself back in school was just too ridiculous. She couldn’t have baby brain already. Headmistress McGonagall was presently lecturing Harry, and Auror Potter was not taking it well.

“She’s right, Harry. I can’t stay here.” Hermione intruded. She could not say she had been thinking it over because she had been having a nap like her grandmother but she had to agree with the Headmistress. “I am a threat to the students. If he can get into my house, he might be able to get into Hogwarts. He’s been here before.”

They needed to find out what the werewolf had used. Professor Snape was the obvious one to ask and she wanted to speak to him again as nature seemed reluctant to take its course. Harry looked torn. Hogwarts was his sanctuary, his first real home. He had brought Hermione here automatically and McGonagall’s refusal to grant his request that his friend be allowed to stay had seemed callous.

“We are hardly turning Ms Ganger out into the street.” The Headmistress said with some asperity. “The Order retains ownership of 12 Grimmauld Place. It will be a suitable refuge until such a time as the Ministry has found Fenrir Greyback.” She looked primly at Harry, who wanted to baulk but couldn’t. His dislike for his godfather’s home lingered in spite of its suitability.

“I’ll go directly there as soon as I have a word with Professor Snape.” Hermione promised. He still looked mulish so she added. “Ginny is coming home from St Mungo’s tomorrow and I bet your flat is a mess.”

“You were unconscious.” Harry protested. He met her gaze and conceded with a nod. He wanted to protect her as much as Ron did, but he also recognised her ability to protect herself. “Owl me as soon as you get there.” He left without an apology to the Headmistress because he wasn’t going to say sorry for trying to do the right thing. Harry did however give his former teacher a nod. The witches watched him leave with identical expressions of affectionate restraint.

“He still thinks it is his job to save the world.” Minerva observed, having not said half a dozen things to her former student, chief among them ‘my school, my rules’. His heart was in the right place but he wasn’t the last best hope any more. Hermione nodded wearily.

“Its force of habit.” She hid a yawn. “Though its worse now he’s a father.” Hermione pushed back the blanket displeasing Crookshanks immensely. She stood up, running a hand through her hair to straighten it. Perhaps she should just shave it all off to keep it from misbehaving. Although the other witch tried to hide it, she caught the Headmistress’s glance at her quite prominent bump. “I have another appointment with the gynaecologist in a couple of days and I understand Professor Snape has begun research. I’m hoping for some good news.”