Under The Cool Shade Of Virtue

"Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life." ~William Faulkner


The years of Apprenticeship


Beautiful, perfect, flawless… She spun slowly in delighted rapture breathing in the scent that would soon become part of her. Golden rays of light fell on her closed eyes and she took comfort in the forgiving glow she saw through her shut lids, a glow that spread through her chest, calming, soothing. She opened her eyes unhurriedly, not wanting that first moment to go away, knowing that nothing compares to novelty, to the very first taste of something.

She turned to her right, looking for the soft light pouring through one of the tall stained-glass windows. The window was made of three parts, each thinning in elegant gothic arches as they reached the ceiling. It stood tall and noble as if priding itself with the small, transparent Griffindors that gradually began fighting on the farthest of its panes to the right only to valiantly defeat the enemies on the last one. She smiled at the scenes noting the irony in the representation, all the small people fighting for survival wore traditional robes painted in detail with very intricate designs in colours that showed their loyalties and house affiliations. The only ones that did wear traditional clothing that day were actually their antagonists.

She searched for the image of herself. A small, red and gold clad young woman with a large mane of curly hair and a fierce expression on her face came in sight. Whoever created the stained glass made an idol out of her, she represented the essential resistance hero, she looked brave and determined, saintly in the way her cheek was hollowed and her eyebrows knitted in divine ambition. She thought of Joanne D’Arc.

Arms encircled her. A strong chest leaned against her back and a cheek grazed her shoulder softly.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she whispered.

“Not more than you.”

She leaned back into his embrace closing her eyes.

“Don’t make the poor house jealous Ron, remember what Harry said about those ancient manors having a life of their own…I wouldn’t want it to lock me out in the blizzard one of these days.” She laughed. The rumble of his light chuckle vibrated down her back.

“Let’s see it do that…” he planted a light kiss on her temple and walked briskly to one of the armchairs that surrounded the round coffee table in front of the fireplace. “Don’t worry love, mother hen took care of the house - nothing can touch us when mum takes care of security stuff.” He sighed and sank between the lush pillows on the fireside chair. “Finally done! I can’t believe it. No more cleaning, rebuilding, modernizing, redecorating, charming, warding…What was it, six, seven months?” He rubbed his temples with closed eyes. A small purple light filtered by the colourful stained glass was playing on his left cheek.

“Almost six, but it was worth it, you must agree.” She smiled and joined him, sitting by the crackling fire. “Harry was right; we deserve a place like this…”

“Yeah…” he said thoughtfully. “Have you seen the gardens? Amazing…the lake, that tiny glade, that huge sitting area by the glade…What do you call that - that terrace with white benches and all covered in ivy?” he looked at her with wide blue eyes.

“The pavilion? Yes, it’s amazing, that. My favourite is the labyrinth though…I can’t wait to explore it.” She smiled wistfully. He nodded.

“Yep, that’ll be wicked. It’ll have to wait a few months though; you’ll sink knee deep in the snow that clutters those tiny alleyways now.”

“I love this snow - reminds me of Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, it’s really something else, though we won’t probably see a winter like this another ten years from now.”

“Ten years –“she looked in the distance smiling. “– enough time for some little Weasleys to enjoy it.” She stood up and smiled at his stunned but pleased expression. “Some tea, Ron?”

“Sure, that sounds great, ‘Mione!”

She adored the house and upon exiting the parlour to go to the kitchens she thanked all the deities for having a friend like Harry.

The narrow staircase spiralled down to a gothic wooden door. She pushed the ornate handle and the door opened to a wide, light room. It was a typical medieval high class kitchen; she imagined that in the past a heavy wooden table stood in the middle, hundreds of herb sheaves hanging on strings over it. She could just see the freshly hunted rabbits and partridges hung among copper and tin pots around the huge hearth. For a reason or another she was reminded of the first few pages of one very dear novel of hers. Indeed, a couple of centuries ago the kitchen and the parlour area of her house couldn’t have looked much different from those at the house in Wuthering Heights. Actually, it didn’t look much different now. The furniture was a bit simpler, being modern, the space was less cluttered thanks to shrinking spells and of course there was no trace of any kind of killed foul anywhere in sight, but otherwise it still looked like any other traditional, respectable, rather rustic kitchen.

Large windows opened to the garden and another door like the one she came through stood beside them. She went to look out into the garden. The snow was covering all the trees and shrubs, the clear, crisp sunlight making everything look silent and serene. The view matched her state of mind perfectly; one year ago precisely a raging tempest would have matched it. The change was something that, during the war, she didn’t even dare dream of.

She shook herself out of her musings and remembered her initial task.

After brewing an aromatic Earl Grey on the terracotta stove connected to the large hearth she walked back up to the parlour surrounded by fragrant vapours twirling lazily from the pot. She heard muffled voices from behind the door. She balanced the tea tray carefully on one hand while pushing the heavy door open with the other. Ron was standing with his back at her facing the fireplace. The voices were still indistinguishable and not until she approached him enough to see his expression did she spotted Harry’s face in the hearth.

“– I see no problem with it as long as we know - it’s only a matter of time until everyone understands the systems and ideologies…Hey ‘Mione! How’s the manor growing on you?” smiled Harry from the burning coals. She placed the tray on the table and came beside Ron laying a hand on his shoulder and looking between the two.

“We need to throw a party for you Harry! The manor is wonderful, we love it!” she cried with a wide grin on her face. “Don’t we Ron?”

“Yeah, it’s really great!” answered Ron with a put out smile. She looked pointedly at him and then back at Harry.

“Who sank your ships? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Hermione, it’s just that Kingsley announced me that we must attend the Yule opening today after all…” said Harry morosely.

“Well, it was only normal. I was very surprised when he said that we can skip it.” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

“This is stupid; we’ve been dragged about at every bloody speech and public gathering and I’ve been moving stuff for a week now, I’m dead tired…I don’t want to go!” huffed Ron sagging back down into his chair.

“Ron, we must do this, people want to see us. Come on, it won’t be that bad, there’s even a reception afterwards.” At seeing Ron frown even deeper Harry added laughing, “With booze and food…”

Hermione laughed heartily and threw a side glance at Ron.

“You can’t pass that up love” she teased.

“Oh guys, come on, stop this already, it’s not like I’m some bottomless pit…Look at me being bribed with food and drinks…” he threw his hands in the air. “Am I that easy?” he asked half serious.

“Err…yes you are actually.” Laughed Harry at his friend’s glare.

*

A few hours latter found them on the frozen steps of the manor holding onto each other in fear of slipping on the thin ice formed with the coming of evening. The air was dry and cold stinging their noses and clearing their minds. The only sounds were that of the snow being crushed under their feet and a faint barking echoing somewhere in the distance. She huddled closer to him as they stepped in the apparition point in the east side of the garden.

Arriving at the Leaky Cauldron was child's play; during the holydays that part of London was deserted and silent – actually making their way through the magical quarter was a problem. The picturesque magical street was teeming with witches and wizards of all ages, the stores were wide opened, some of the merchants taking their businesses in the middle of the street and yelling their offerings out loud. Little boys were running around with glowing stag horns adorning their heads while others wrapped in mock oak or holly leaves were chasing and fighting each other, some tripping their parents over in the process. Numerous lanterns were hanging in mid air casting their warm light over the gleaming buildings and equally gleaming faces. The atmosphere was even more whimsical than usual, the holiday air making everything look like a scene from a fairytale.

They pulled their hoods over their heads hiding from the unwanted attention that was sure to come if they were seen by the overexcited crowd. She had very confusing feelings about this; she was annoyed but secretly enjoyed the popularity. This unabashed hero worship they were receiving was an admittedly heady thing.

“Chocolate logs on fire! Smouldering, flaming chocolate logs! Come and get them while they’re hot!” shrieked a thin man with a large moustache from her right. He was standing behind a tall table that seemed to have been taken over by a raging, crackling fire. On closer inspection one could spot tiny logs made of chocolate pilled under the billowing magical blaze.

They walked swiftly among the crowd, clinging to each other in silence. A large banner was hung from side to side above the street, “Yule 1999” sparkled red before gleaming gold and rearranging into deep green letters, “A New Age, A New Millennium – 2000”. It looked beautiful and it gave hope, it was fitting the new world they were building. She smiled under the shadow of her cloak.

The crowd was concentrating as they approached Gringotts and they saw a tall wooden stage arranged just in front of the bank. It had the same banner that was hung on the street, this one bigger and even shinier than the former. A band was singing carols and people were swarming to get places closer to the stage and see the performers better.

They had to elbow their way through the mass of cloaks, furs or capes to reach the back of the stage. A large wooden cabin was improvised just next to the platform. The bulky guards identified them and opened the doors of the cabin for them.

“Through here Mr and Mrs Weasley” an assistant herded them inside and through a long corridor.

“It’s Ms Granger,” she said quietly to the overexcited young woman.

“Excuse me?” asked the woman distractedly.

“We are not married…yet.” Answered Ron for her. The assistant looked startled and then apologised in an overly polite way.

They finally reached a tall door and entered what looked like a wide stone hall with a long table in the middle surrounded by heavy wooden chairs. Everyone was there, order members, ministry officials and Aurors were sitting around the table with steaming cups of tea or coffee in front of them. Harry was at the head of the table smiling brightly at the pair of them. Everyone erupted in cheers when they saw them and Hermione felt the blood go up into her cheeks.

“Finally you are here!” said Kingsley loud enough to cover the ruckus that the others were making.

“Yeah, we were a bit late, sorry.” Greeted Ron with a wide grin.

“Hi Kings how are things?” Hermione quipped hugging the minister. He smiled his kind smile.

“Everything’s fine Hermione, thanks. So sorry for dragging you up here today of all days” Smiled the dark man shaking Ron’s hand. “Speaking of which, how’s the Peverell mansion?”

“Great, we are just in the process of getting the hang of things around there”, answered Ron.

“I hope that the Purifying team did a good job…” enquired the minister.

“Yes, they did great!” assured both Hermione and Ron in one voice. The older man smiled pleased at them and nodded.

“Hey ‘Mione, Ron get over here,” Beckoned Harry from the back of the room.

“Hey Harry, there you are!” waved Ron and grinned at his friend.

“Go on there by his side, we go on stage through there anyway, you’ll be closer when that time comes”, said Kingsley turning them by their shoulders in Harry’s direction.

The hero of the wizarding world was looking beautiful, thought Hermione admiring her friend. He was standing tall and proud, smiling invitingly at them, hands clasped confidently at the back. His hair was combed though it still kept that careless, wavy look to it; his clothes were beautiful, luxurious black velvet cloak over a simple dark green suit. She remembered an equally handsome Harry wearing the same shade of green at the Yule Ball in their 4th year. Ginny was standing by his side looking equally striking in the royal blue winter cloak draped over her shoulders.

They hugged and talked for a while - catching up on the four moths they haven’t seen each other. After the Passing Ritual that was performed on the property they had had no time to come together no matter how hard they tried. Hermione and Ron were always supervising the renovating of the house while Harry and Ginny had their personal problems. She was disappointed to see that for the first time since they met, years ago on the Hogwarts express, they have distanced from each other. It was expected and all the adults told her that the time would come when life would lead them on different paths but she didn’t want to believe it, thinking that they were different. She knew deep inside that this was just the beginning and that it would come a time when they would only be colleagues, meeting only when the job demanded. Personal life will one day come first, friendship as they knew it would be just a beautiful memory.

“You need to come around for tea one day and see the house.” Said Hermione to Ginny. The girl smiled at her and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“We’ll sure do Hermione, we must catch up on our girl talk…Merlin knows I’ve had enough of boisterous males at the Burrow lately.” Hermione laughed at that.

“I’ve only had this one boisterous rooster over here. Though Ron is making up for all his brothers…” she laughed and Ron gave her a dirty look. “So how long until you move out of the Burrow?” asked Hermione eagerly. She knew that the two of them had been alternating between the Burrow and Grimmauld’s Place, waiting for their house to be finished. Harry, saying that he wants to surprise them, didn’t reveal a thing about his future residence. He planned to have the wedding there and said that that’s when they’ll see the place for the first time. Hermione could not understand his reason but decided that it probably had something to do with the Auror training that was soon to come. Perhaps he didn’t want anything set in stone until his career issue was settled.

“You know how it is…Both me and Harry want to finish our studies first, to have something reliable before we start a family. We are still young, we have time. I’m not exactly up on having kids at this age to be honest…” trailed off Ginny with a sheepish smile confirming Hermione’s suspicions.

“Yeah, I know…me neither…”Hermione shuddered.

Ron and Harry were having their own male bonding. Harry was grinning cheekily as Ron hit his shoulder playfully.

“- next week then it’ll be, I don’t care what you do but next week you’ll be over for some Quidditch, I have this huge lawn in the back garden, we can fly like maniacs there.” Ron beamed at Harry.

“Yeah, sure do Ron. We’ll plan something for the next week, and pay you guys a visit” said Harry smiling at both of them and wrapping an arm around Ginny’s shoulder, “Right, kitten?” he asked his girlfriend. Hermione winced and tried to hold back a giggle at hearing the slushy pet name Harry used. Ginny seemed to like it though. “Sure tomcat,” she said and hugged him tightly around the waist. Hermione was literally fighting giggles by now and judging by his beet-red face, so was Ron.

“That will do guys. We need to be up there!” came auror Williamson, thankfully interrupting the awkward moment. Hermione was relieved to be able to turn her back at the future Potters and snicker discreetly.

They were all directed by a couple of witches to the entrance on the wide stage. The first thing she saw when she walked in front of the audience was a blinding golden light as the stage banner shuffled between its red and green messages. She kept her eyes on the enormous glinting poster that was now sparkling like a field of dew covered grass. The deep green relaxed her and she took a deep breath, the frozen air helping her gather some courage to face the crowd. She didn’t even realize when they reached the middle of the arena; all she knew was that she squeezed Ron’s hand so hard that her fingers ached.

“Good evening!” Kinsley’s magnified voice erupted. The crowd broke in ovations and applauses as Hermione’s stomach twisted, goose bumps pinching the skin on her arms. “Thank you so much for coming tonight!” continued the minister after the crowd stopped cheering. “We are here to celebrate the second Yule of peace and content. The second Yule that we can enjoy without the threat of Voldermort and his followers” people gasped. “I will ask you and actually encourage you to call him by his name. Don’t fear something that is no longer here. Don’t fear a shadow of a bad dream. If you fear to say his name you admit at bowing to a law that he invented. You keep the memory of his poisonous ideologies alive. There is no longer He who must not be named, because The Boy Who Lived vanquished him.” Some endearing “Hey’s” and “Yeah’s” were heard from the public. “We must not bury, forget evil, we must remember and learn from it. We must never repeat evil by keeping it in mind. A great man said once, and I quote: ‘The only thing we must fear is fear itself.’ I’d say that these are the words you must keep in mind every time you are thinking of Voldermort.” He paused for effect and then continued in a warm voice “I don’t want to keep you here too much as we have some very wonderful people that I’m sure you’d rather see than your old, barmy minister.” People laughed and Hermione’s heart travelled into her throat. “Have a great Yule and a glorious New Year. Like the banner says, a new age, a new millennium…Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, The Golden Trio!” boomed Shaklebolt over the ecstatic roar of cheers.

The sound was deafening and the light was blinding her so that she couldn’t make out a single, individual face among the mass of people. Harry walked up front, smiled and pointed his wand at his throat casting the Sonorous. They followed, standing a few feet behind him. Their colleagues kept their place in the back of the stage - just in front of the band - standing straight with congenial smiles plastered on their faces in front of the equally congenial, flashing poster. They were not there to say anything; they were there to prove how professional and well organized the ministry was. The people of the wizarding world only wanted to see the Golden Trio.

“Potter, Potter, Potter…” screamed the crowd in a single thundering voice.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Boomed Harry’s amplified voice. Suddenly there was silence and he smiled pleasantly at the people. “You are wonderful, thank you for welcoming us so! I am so happy to be here tonight and see such joy in your eyes, joy that I didn’t even dream to ever see again during the war. Freedom is joy, and you – we – are all free.

“Once I was a boy that had his good and not very good moments. At times I thought that I had no hope, that I will never be anything more than an unwanted orphan. When I least expected it everything changed and my eyes were opened to dreams I didn’t even dare hope for, to opportunities that - as extraordinary as they were - seemed outlandish for a boy raised in the muggle world. I gathered friends that shared the same ideals and even though life has always pushed me to the edge of the knife nothing took my faith away. The faith I had in myself.” He raised his hand to his heart and closed his eyes. People were transfixed, a deep silence looming over the whole quarter.

“The wonderful feeling of being free to do all that you wished your entire life…”he whispered. “To have the certainty that there is no one there anymore behind your back - hiding, planning - always looking for a way to bring you down, to subdue you and your dreams. Now that he is gone we can all get back to our lives, we can all start anew…” he paused and took a deep shaky breath. “We can all fulfil our dreams!” He said in a melodic voice and everyone went into hysterics again. “Our goal, as leaders of this new born world, is to rebuild what was demolished,” he yelled, his voice mingling with that of the crowd, “to reintegrate what was banned. To do whatever we want, without being afraid of a taboo that our enemy has planted in our minds.

“Our minister, Mr Kingsley Shaklebolt, quoted a very dear friend of mine earlier and I want to add…” he stopped and laughed, the crowd’s voice was covering any other sound, still chanting their heroes name as loud as they could. The sound was deafening and the energy of the enthusiastic crowd was so powerful that it brought tears to Hermione’s eyes. He looked behind at them and grinned widely raising his arms in feigned confusion. He turned around and smiling he raised his hands to the people making them stop “…I want to add something else that this magnificent wizard had said to me once”, he paused and people froze waiting for him to continue, “he said, ‘Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.’ I always keep that in mind and I want you to do the same. Never fear, never, ever fear!” yelling erupted again.

“From now on you will not be referring to him like you used to, like you were taught too, through FEAR, THROUGH TERROR!” he bellowed over the ruckus, “I want you to be exorcized of the FEAR and TERROR that he forced in you. I want you to be brave, fearless, and know that nothing can stop you!” people were in a frenzy of screams and whistles. ”I want you to say his name and mock the reign of terror that he installed. Like banishing a boggart we will banish the memory of him by ridiculing his most precious law. The Taboo!” people screamed profanities at hearing the word. “I want to teach you to banish fear!” he shouted. “I want to hear you say his name, now! VOLDEMORT!” he bellowed over the crowd, his arms shooting into fists in front of him. “Say it and be cleansed of fear!” the crowd cheered and howled the name in a frenzy. “VOLDEMORT, VOLDEMORT, VOLDEMORT!” Their faces contorted they were screaming the name they feared with frightening pleasure. She looked at Ron and he turned to her with an ecstatic smile on his face, his eyes twinkling merrily as his whole frame shook with his passionate clapping.

“He’s good isn’t he, our Harry?” he yelled over the noise. She smiled tightly at him and continued to clap, her palms tingling. The crowd kept shouting the name in a blast of noise, never stopping, never silencing. She covered her ears and through her palms she could make out Harry’s voice again.

“Perfect!” he said pleased scanning the crowd. “Now you have nothing to fear. You are really liberated!” the crowd went silent and Harry bowed deeply at the people. “Thank you!” he whispered impressed. He turned to them then and Hermione’s heart fell, she hoped that he would spare them. He signalled them to approach him and they complied.

Up front the floodlights were more blinding then ever. Hermione squinted her eyes and tried to see something in the crowd, all she could make out were dark outlines of the near by buildings followed by a sea of faces and hats of different colours and shapes. She smiled like she always did, at no one in particular.

“Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, everyone!” Harry said gesturing toward them with a wide flourish. They both bowed and in turn held their own uplifting speeches. People cheered, screamed and cried as she tried to be as concise and diplomatic as possible.

“Thank you, thank you everyone!” said Harry again. “Now let’s stop the chit-chat and return to what’s really important. The Yule celebration!” He cheered smiling widely, people followed in the same fashion. “AS OF THIS MOMENT I DECLARE THE HOLIDAY FESTIVITIES OPENED!” said Harry as fireworks lit the skies and people yelled again enthusiastically.

She took a deep breath and smiled at her friends. The whole thing done they bowed gracefully one more time and left the stage still smiling and waving at the cheering crowd. Their exit was accompanied by a glorious, thunderous and rather corny – she thought – musical composition that exploded from the band in the back of the stage.

They did not stay for the festivities. As soon as the traditional Yule log had been hoisted over the burning pyre they literally fled through a back door. She would have liked to stay, especially since she hadn’t had time to go out for so long, Ron was annoyed and tired so she morosely fulfil his wish. The coming New Year’s Eve was a consolation and she decided she will have her fill of excitement then.

The New Year didn’t wait around much and before she knew it she found herself in one of the most fancy restaurants in Diagon Alley, dressed in her finest and sipping champagne with the Weasleys, the future Potters and all the others that were in anyway important enough to join their party. She would have normally found the situation snobbish and maybe a bit too much for them but was surprised to discover that she enjoyed pampering herself. She tried to fight the inclination towards indulgence she was developing but found that she couldn’t and, really, didn’t want to. Their life was beautiful and she wanted to enjoy the spoils. She had a beautiful house, a huge library, a wonderful boyfriend, everyone loved her and a glorious future was waiting for her. Why wouldn’t she enjoy it? It didn’t hurt anyone, she thought to herself as the clock stroke midnight on 31st of December 1999.

The days following the New Year party came with one more surprise. A not very pleasant one that she couldn’t even conceive the morning she woke up under the blissful winter sun that fell on her face. She pulled the silky covers over her head hiding from the importunate light. She groaned, stretched and yawned, all at once, feeling particularly spoiled. Ron wasn’t in bed with her, she noted, after sleepily fumbling through the sheets to find him. The Peverell bed - the heavy, immense, indecently decorated Peverell bed greeted her instead of her boyfriend. A bed she wouldn’t have had the courage to choose for herself but now that the sombre object stoped intimidating her she could finally appreciate the dark fantastic wooden birds and the intricately carved tree with its flower burdened branches. She traced a finger along the age polished wood in fascination, trying to identify the tree.

A soft bell jingle woke her from her musings. Startled she turned around to the door to see the strange contraption that Ron insisted to install in every room quiver of its hinges - a mechanism that looked rather like a bunch of silver grapes and was there to help them summon each other easier in the immense house. The quiet jingle soon turned into an angry shriek, proof that the thing was in perfectly working order. Judging by the increasing racket and by the arms of the clock that indicated it was past noon Ron had been pulling at the connection strings of the device one two many times and by now was probably pacing up and down the living room wound up and hungry. She groaned while swinging her legs of the bed and hoping off the soft mattress with great effort.

The image and sounds that she was met with the moment she stepped into the parlour were surprisingly familiar but yet foreboding.

“– not until people are announced of the dangers and agree to report the smallest of oddities they see anywhere, can we…-“ a very familiar voice spoke from the flaring hearth. Ron – hunched over the fireplace – interrupted the echoing voice.

“Harry this is a bit intrusive…I don’t think…” Ron stopped suddenly and straightening his back he turned around to look at her. He smiled pleasantly and waved at her to approach.

“Hey, Harry, everything in order?” she greeted the face in the coals apprehensively, knowing that he must bring some unpleasant news judging by his sheepish smile.

“Not really, no. I was just saying to Ron here that Williamson flooed me a minute ago and announced that laws have changed…again and…” he stopped and looked at both of them guiltily. “I hate to burst your bubble but we’re going to start Auror training a bit earlier.” He spoke with a decisive tone.

She gapped at both of them for a moment. Neither of them looked half disappointed - in fact she was sure they were putting on the act of looking fittingly disgruntled just for her.

“B-but…weren’t we supposed to start in the autumn? Who decided this? What is going on?” She blurted out still staring thin lipped at both of them.

“Hermione, things are happening, projects are in motion. I told you two too expect surprising things for the next few years from the Ministry. We need time to settle things and also we need to modernise the systems, we need to get the world out of the Dark Ages. We can’t do that if we don’t catch the remaining Death Eaters, they slow down our evolution. The pureblood ideology is not yet gone Hermione and I think you know best what their ideologies mean…” he looked at her pointedly and she couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down her spine at the memories Harry’s words brought.

“Yes Harry, I know very well, you don’t need to remind me. I just don’t get it anymore. The law hasn’t even been promulgated yet I’m sure, what with all this insanity with the duration of the studies. What is it now, one year, five, ten…?” she asked sarcastically.

“You are being irrational…” huffed Harry.

“And you are being disorganized!” interrupted Hermione. Ron looked between the two impatiently.

“’Mione…” said Harry softly. “We have no more time to wait, there are so many out there still going after innocent people, we need to get our Auror license and go hunting. Now that the doors of the Auror School have been opened to everyone, the studies have been compressed into whole years, rather than semesters. Fewer holidays, shorter time to become an Auror - the faster we get our licenses the more we can help.” He said resolute. “You can do whatever you want though…no one is forcing you.” He added softly with a hint of resentment in his voice.

She looked pensively at the crackling fire surrounding Harry’s face. Ron waited for her verdict as if he didn’t have a mind of his own. She glared shortly at him and was about to tell him to do whatever he wanted and stop hanging on her every word. She chastised herself on that when realising it was preferable to have the upper hand in all types of relationships and even more so with him since Ron would always need a walking stick to lean on. It was hard for him to make decisions without having someone approve of them. If he didn’t have her he would turn to Harry and she preferred to know that her future husband is searching her for confirmation.

She had a strange sense of dread that she could not explain. Was it that she still needed peace? Was it because Auror training would bring so many memories back? Or perhaps she was just terribly undecided? She couldn’t explain this feeling she had. It was something beyond reason, a fog that overwhelmed her mental facilities – a sort of turning point, like time was now the one deciding in her stead. The grandfather clock in the corner of the parlour seemed to confirm her fear, throwing another dark veil over her conscience with its each sombre tick. As if bowing to a real life being’s will she committed herself to this most reachable representative of time, the clock. Time heals everything - she steeled herself – even indecision.

“How long?” She asked in the most determined voice she could muster.

“Excuse me?’ asked Harry bemused.

“How long is the training and when does it start?”

Harry still looked amusingly bemused at her and with a lopsided grin that showed his undeniable satisfaction answered her question.

“I’ll quote the official proclamation posted at the Department of Education” he said professionally. “’The opening is on 1st of February and the maximum duration of the studies is three years.”