It's About Time

Chapter 6.
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The next day began much the same as the previous one had. Hermione was up and dressed before any of her roommates and James was waiting for her in the common room. She had expected him to be there. After she left the Great Hall at lunch the day before, she’d successfully avoided him and the rest of the Marauders for the rest of the day… even though that had meant skipping dinner. Her stomach had not forgiven her for this and judging from the look on James’ face… he hadn’t either.

“Don’t tell me she’s gotten to you too?” James said with a slight edge to his usually casual voice as he stood to meet her.

“Excuse me?” Hermione replied blankly, halting on her way to the portrait hole.
“Evans.” He stated, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s convinced you that I’m an awful git, not worthy of your time?”

She just stared back at him uncomprehendingly.

“That’s why you kept away from me all day yesterday, right?” He continued warily.

Hermione just shook her head. The last thing she wanted to discuss with James… was Lily.

“No,” She answered honestly. “She hasn’t said a word to me. And truthfully, James, it wouldn’t have made any difference to me if she had.”

He visibly relaxed at her words and exhaled heavily.

“Then you’re a right lot better than most of the girls around here. Most of them take Lily’s word as law.”

Hermione smiled faintly, “I am not most girls, James.”

“That’s obvious,” he said, blushing slightly. “I’m sorry for assuming you be swayed by gossip. It’s just that, Evans was pretty upset at me yesterday and… well, I guess I was worried what you’d think of me.”

He cared what she thought of him? Hermione was astonished. He was the Head Boy… He was gorgeous… And he cared what she thought.

Her head was reeling. It wasn’t much, admittedly so… but it was something… it was a start. Feeling suddenly brazen at this notion, Hermione moved closer to him, stopping with barely a foot between them.

“What I think, James, is that you are ten times the man Lily believes you to be.” She said in a low voice.

Oh… this was wrong. She knew it was appalling to reveal her feelings for him this blatantly but seeing him so worried that she’d think less of him was too endearing to ignore.

He dropped his head and looked at the floor, apparently deep in thought before lifting his head to face her again. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself before he’d said anything. Instead, he lifted one hand and reached towards Hermione’s face. She followed the movement with her eyes curiously. His fingers brushed past her cheek sending a shiver down her spine as he hesitantly touched her hair, pushing some of the loose curly tendrils away from her eyes, where they had fallen.

James’ eyes were fixed on his hand lightly stroking her hair. Hermione was afraid to make a sound… scared that it might jog him back to his senses and this moment would have to end.

She tilted her face into his hand and closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his touch.
“Oy, Prongs!”

From somewhere, far away, Hermione could hear a voice shouting.

“Prongs!”

The voice was more insistent now and it seemed to be getting closer. ‘Go away!’ Hermione urged silently. ‘Please, go away!’

“James! You great prat.”

That did it. James jerked away from Hermione and whirled around to reveal Sirius standing a mere five feet away looking perturbed.

“That woke you two up, did it?” He said flatly.

“Wha… what?” Replied a thoroughly flustered James.

Sirius smirked, “I’ve called your name about five times. What are you doing, styling her hair, Prongs?”

James blushed furiously. “No, we were just talking.” He said realizing how stupid it sounded as it was coming out of his mouth.

Sirius chuckled and addressed James in a mocking fashion. “Well, Mr. Potter. I’ve done my share of ‘just talking’ with the ladies and a word to the wise,” he leaned in to whisper, “next time, choose a more discrete location to ‘talk.’”

James didn’t answer… he was still flushed and refused to meet Sirius’ eyes.

Sirius headed towards the portrait hole, pausing briefly to look back at the blushing pair. Throwing a wink in Hermione’s direction, he shook his head at his friend and laughed again before exiting the room.

Hermione couldn’t help but notice that the laughter hadn’t really reached his eyes nor could she ignore the fluttering sensation that had risen in her stomach when Sirius had winked at her. She legitimized it as embarrassment for being caught in such close proximity to James… of course, that had to be it.

“He… er… well… he might have a point there.”

The sound of James’ voice started Hermione out of her thoughts and she realized that she was still staring at the, now closed, portrait hole that Sirius had just passed through.
“I’m sorry?” She asked quickly, turning to him.

James flushed a deeper crimson than he already was and with great difficulty, continued.

“He said we ought to… find a more – umm – discreet location to – er– talk?”

Hermione could hardly believe that she was hearing him correctly. Her heart started thumping more rapidly as she deliberated how to respond.

“Yes… he did… um… say that. Yes.” She was sure her face was glowing red by now.

James seemed extremely uncomfortable as he fumbled for the right words, though, Hermione thought he looked outright adorable.

“Would you… like to… um… do that? I mean, I mean… talk… more discreetly?” He said.

Hermione’s eyes bore into his, burning with questions and the need for reassurance that she wasn’t mistaken about his intentions. She was sure, though, that she wasn’t misreading him. If there ever was a chance to get closer to James Potter, this was it.

“I’d like that,” she offered matter of factly.

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Harry awoke with a start. He bolted upright and jerked his head around trying to figure out where he was. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he recognized the Hogwarts hospital wing around him and then the memories of what had happened came rushing back.

He remembered the chest pains and feeling extremely weak... Ron and Ginny had found him. They then had supported him all the way here where Madam Pomfrey had administered a dreamless sleep potion, against his will.

“Ah, you’re awake, Mister Potter. And how are you feeling this morning?” Madam Pomfrey had come bustling into the room carrying a large vial of dark green liquid which had fumes emanating from the top.

Crossing his fingers that the foul looking potion wasn’t intended for him, Harry spoke up trying to sound better than he felt.

“Fine! Just Fine. Guess I just needed a good rest.”

And judging from the intense sunlight flooding the room indicating that it was likely an entire day had passed, he had certainly had a great deal of rest, indeed.

Madam Pomfrey scrutinized him suspiciously through narrowed eyes. She’d had him as a patient far too many times to see through his attempt at displaying perfect health, he knew.

“Let’s see shall we?” She said, approaching his bed. “Stand up, please.”

Harry slipped out from under the covers and stood at the side of the bed. But the second his feet hit the floor, his knees seemed to give out and he began to fall. He managed to catch himself on the bedside table before collapsing completely onto the floor and was helped back into bed by Madam Pomfrey, who was visibly concerned but not at all surprised by this.

“Tsk, Tsk,” She scolded. “You haven’t the energy to support yourself. Over-exertion, I expect. Bedrest for the remainder of the day. Drink this.”

She shoved the vial of rank green potion into his hand and stood over him to make certain that he drank it all. It smelled worse than it looked and tasted even poorer than that… but Harry forced all of the potion down to appease Madam Pomfrey.

Handing her the empty vial, Harry lay back on his pillow and stared at the ceiling while contemplating what could have caused this.

The chest pain had been nearly the same as it was when he’d experienced it at the Burrow with a few exceptions. The last time this had happened, he had seen a blue flash of light and then Hermione had appeared… he thought at the time that the incidents had been related. The pain had caused the vision or vice versa. But this incident hadn’t resulted in a vision or a flash of light of any color… though it had drained him wholly of his energy. As uncomfortable as the episode at the Burrow had been, he hadn’t lost his ability to stand on his own, and here he was a full day later still unable to support himself.

Absentmindedly, Harry reached up and ran his fingers over his defining scar. Common sense told him that he should suspect Voldemort as the likely culprit behind all this. After all, it was widely speculated by the Order members that Hermione had been abducted by Death Eaters and wouldn't it be just like Voldemort to use someone Harry cared about to get to him? He thought bitterly, Sirius' image coming to the forefront of his overcrowded mind.

Like so many times before, Harry found his head throbbing from all the thoughts and worries swimming around inside of it. A pensieve would do him good right now.

A loud bang across the room caught Harry’s attention and he turned his head to see the hospital wing door closing behind Ron who strode through the ward towards him looking anxious.

“Alright Harry?” Ron asked worriedly. “You gave us quite a fright, mate!”

Harry smiled weakly. “I’ll live. I just haven’t any energy. Need some rest, I suppose.”
“I believe it. You didn’t look too well when we found you.” Ron appeared to be stalling, Harry thought.

He was about to ask Ron if there was a problem but before he could, Ron continued, “The same thing happened to us, Harry. We were in that hidden corridor on the sixth floor and it was… we remembered when Hermione and I found you and Gin… er… you know.”

Harry’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Wha-at?” He dared not believe it was possible. “You understand then? About Hermione-”

“-Yeah!” Ron interrupted. “Same with Ginny. We felt Hermione’s… feelings and Gin thinks she lov…” he trailed off.

“What?” Harry asked eagerly, urging Ron to finish his sentence.

“Nevermind.” Ron said quickly. “It’s just… it was so weird. Like Hermione was there. She was hurting, Harry.”

“Yeah, I know.” Said Harry quietly. “I knew.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. Harry knew that Hermione had been hurting that night… he could see it in her eyes. She had played the role of supportive friend as well as any, but Harry knew it was an act. He’d just figured, or hoped anyway, that she would eventually move on. The night of the wedding, he’d realized that wasn’t the case.

There were a million questions he was burning to ask Ron and Ginny about what they had experienced.

“Where is Ginny?” Harry inquired, peering around Ron. He was a bit surprised she hadn’t come with Ron to see him.

Ron looked down at his feet and shrugged.

“She’s pretty distraught about everything. She stayed here with you all night until Pomfrey made her go to bed.”

“Ginny was here?” Harry asked tentatively, not wanting to get his hopes up. The argument from the previous day hadn’t escaped him entirely.

“Yeah, mate. She kept saying she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t get to apologize to you properly.” Ron explained looking a bit uncomfortable at the implication that they believed Harry might not make it through the night.

Harry watched his friend for a moment before chancing a grin. “It was my fault anyway.

You know I’m completely stupid when it comes to girls,” he joked attempting to lighten the mood.

Ron looked at Harry and in an instant both boys broke out into relieved laughter… all the anxiety and stress of the past few days melted away as the two friends succumbed to the alleviating laughter.

A perturbed sniff from behind Ron, halted their merriment, as they noticed Madam Pomfrey glowering at them.

“Mister Weasley! Can you not see that Mister Potter needs his rest?! I’ve already had to threaten your sister with a sleeping draught just to keep her away. Don’t make me do the same to you.”

Ron blushed. “Right… er… sorry.” He stood and clapped Harry on the shoulder. “I’ll come back after dinner to see if you’re up to a game of wizard’s chess.”

After another “tsk” from Pomfrey, he hurried from the hospital wing.

Harry watched his friend leave pondering the new information Ron had brought to his attention. It didn’t make sense that Voldemort would even be aware of these isolated incidents between he, Hermione, Ginny and Ron. Was it possible that the Death Eaters had forced Hermione to reveal these private thoughts and memories? And if they had, what could they be trying to accomplish by recreating them? Any why was it taking such a physical toll on him?

He had to be overlooking something. Mulling over every detail until his head began to ache worse than before, one question kept creeping into his mind.

‘What are you hiding, Hermione?’ Harry thought as he drifted off to sleep.
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