Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Resuscitation of Agapé ❯ People Are Talking ( Chapter 9 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Harry Potter and the Resuscitation of Agapé
Year 6 At Hogwarts
by Jessica X

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WARNING LABEL: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS. INGREDIENTS OF PRODUCT NOT COPYRIGHTED BY AUTHOR, BUT THE RECIPE IS. RATED R FOR MILD VIOLENCE/LANGUAGE, AND MATURE THEMES: KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN. IF INGESTED, INDUCE VOMITING, THEN DO BACKFLIPS FOR THREE HOURS.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Sorry for the horrid delay. And Hermione's parents, whom have had no character development whatsoever in the books, are basically copyrighted to me... not really, though.
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~*~ Chapter Nine: People Are Talking

The first thing Harry noticed when he opened his eyes and sat up is that he didn't know where he was; the location was completely foreign to him. A sandy beach stretched out beneath him, and water was lapping at the shore to his left. Low cliffs bordered the sand on his other side.

"Harry!"

He stood, brushed the sand from his seat, and looked around more carefully. The sun was setting over the water, a beautiful display of oranges and pinks. He could see trees far down the beach - palm trees. Everything smelled wet and alive. "Where in hell...?"

"Harry!"

He quickly spun around to see Hermione bounding over the dunes toward him. She was wearing a light-blue sundress, and carrying white sandals in her hand. Her other arm was waving at him emphatically.

"Harry!"

It was as he began to run toward her that he realized he wasn't wearing any shoes. He felt his stomach - no shirt, either. He looked down, and saw that he was wearing a green bathing suit. He supposed it made sense, what with the beach and all.

"Harry!"

An abandoned turtle shell tripped him. He jumped up, brushed the sand from his face and chest, and pressed on to meet her.

"Harry!"

"I'm coming!" he shouted as she came into clearer focus. Now he could see that she was wearing a hat that matched her dress, and the crystal necklace she'd shown him on Christmas. He put a hand to his chest, and found he was wearing his, as well.

"Harry!" she said, finally stopping in front of him.

"Hi," he panted. They stayed hunched up, catching their breath, for a minute or so. Then, Hermione spoke.

"Are you okay?"

"Er, spiffy," he said, looking around again. "Where are we?"

"Brefasiraedi," she replied promptly, a word that held no meaning to him. He noticed her voice sounded quite far away.

"Right."

Just then, Ron walked by. He was wearing trunks much the same as Harry's, save his were orange.

"Harry!" he exclaimed, beaming and waving.

"Uh, hello, Ron." Then, without warning, Ron sunk into the ground and out of sight. "RON!!!"

"Oh, that happens all the time, here," Hermione said, laughing. "He'll be back."

"If... if you say so. But I still don't know where we are!"

"Touch your toes."

He blinked. "What?"

"Touch your toes!" With that, she tossed her sandals aside, bent down and clasped her own feet, then stood again. "Like that!"

"Why?"

"It's great fun, try it!"

Harry shrugged, bent down, and touched his toes. Through the gap in his legs, he saw Hermione was suddenly standing behind him.

"How'd you get around me so fast?" He made to stand up, but one of her hands was between his shoulder blades.

"Never you mind, just hold still."

And with that, she had whipped his shorts down to his ankles.

"WHA-?!"

"Relax, Harry."

"But what the hell are you doing?!"

"Relax, Harry. It's great fun, you'll see!"

Suddenly, he felt something warm and hard poke him in the arse. Harry screamed.

~*~

With a thump, Harry fell out of bed, panting and clutching his chest, his sheets tangled around his body.

"Blimey, mate, didn't think it'd give you such a start!" Ron said, lowering his wand.

"What... where...?!"

"Hurry up, you two!" Hermione said from the doorway. "Breakfast!"

"I just... I had the... the strangest..."

"Tell us all about it at breakfast!" Hermione said pointedly. "I'm quite famished, and you're taking forever!"

As he stood and began working himself free of the sheets, he said, "Did you poke me in the bum with that wand?"

"Yeah, I was trying to wake you up. You were thrashing like mad!"

"Don't EVER do that again!"

~*~

"...and then I felt a poke up my bum," he said, glaring at Ron. "I thought Hermione was trying to sodomize me."

Ron was shaking with laughter, and Hermione had been as well - up until this last bit.

"Ron shouldn't have done that," she said anxiously.

"I know!" Harry said, rounding on the chuckling Weasley. "What possessed you to rape me with your wand?!"

Ron stopped laughing, a disgusted look on his face. "You make it sound like I was aiming for it, mate. I was just trying to give you a jab - shaking you hadn't done any good. You were rolling around like a dog with fleas, I couldn't tell where I was poking."

After they polished off their eggs and were headed for Transfiguration, Ron went back to the Great Hall for another bit of toast. Hermione jerked Harry out of the crowded hallway and into an empty room.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be," he whispered. "It was just a dream. A very horrid, very unsettling dream."

"I would never dream of- of-"

"I should hope not!"

"But you only had that dream because I told you!" she whispered, sounding truly remorseful. "If I hadn't-"

"I can handle stupid dreams," he said, snorting. "Just so long as nobody ever shoves anything up my jacksie to wake me up again."

She began to giggle.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to hide her smile. "It's just... well, that I happened to be behind you in your dream... and then Ron..."

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!!!" He lowered his voice due to all the heads that had turned toward the door when he'd shouted. "Though I am sort of glad it was you. What if Ron had been back there? That would've been even weirder..."

Hermione's face began to pinken. "You mean it... was less weird with... me back there?"

A pause. "That's sick, Hermione. I'm not a bloody puff."

All the colour, especially the pink that had been collecting, drained from her face. She looked horrified. "I'm not saying anything like-"

"You were saying that even though I don't fancy the boys, I'd still take it up the bum from you."

"No!" She was pleading with him now. "I just, I felt honoured that you didn't feel as strange with it being me, even though you didn't want it to happen at all, and I completely realize that - please don't think I'm saying anything about your sexuality, I know you don't fancy boys!"

He looked at her closely for a moment, then sighed. "All right, I get what you mean, now. Sorry I was so short with you."

"This is exactly what I was talking about," she said, her expression still slightly put out. "I told you everything, and now we keep having these rows. I wish I never had."

"The more you say that, the more I start to agree with you, so please, quit saying it!" He stopped, realizing he was being a wanker again. "I didn't mean that. But you've got to stop apologizing for who you are."

She smiled reluctantly, but he could tell she retained her misgivings.

"C'mon, let's get to class."

"O-okay."

"Oh, one more thing... if I ever hear you say 'touch your toes', I swear I'll chuck you at the Whomping Willow."

She grinned wickedly.

~*~

"Psst!"

As Harry stood to let Hermione through (she had just excused herself to use the restroom), he turned to see Neville looking at him.

"What?"

Neville glanced to either side, then whispered, "What's up with you and Hermione?"

Harry's eyebrows knitted as he sat down again. "What?" he repeated.

"You heard me," Neville said, somewhat impatiently.

"Yeah, but what are you on about?"

"You two have been acting weird all year; it's gotten worse since we got back from Christmas." His voice dropped so low it was barely audible. "Are... are you... having it off?"

Harry's jaw almost hit the floor. "Neville!!!" he hissed.

"Just asking," Neville said, shifting nervously.

"No, we are not!" Harry's face flushed. "Who told you that?!"

"Nobody!" He sounded hurt. "Like I said, you two have been acting dodgy lately, and I just wondered why-"

"That's none of your concern!" he snapped.

"Fine." He bent over his spoon, which they were supposed to be Transfiguring into butterflies. Just then, Professor McGonagall walked by, looking down her square-framed spectacles at them, almost as if she knew they had just been talking (and she probably did).

"You need quite a bit more work there, Potter," she said, indicating his spoon that he'd only managed to stick antennae on. "I trust you will concentrate more on your spoon and less on your socializing for the remainder of the period?"

"Yes, Professor," he said, waving his wand at the spoon, still unable to cause it to sprout wings.

As they left the class, Harry pulled Hermione aside and talked to her in a low voice.

"Neville's nosing around," he murmured.

"What d'you mean?"

"He knows we've been acting strange. He thought we were bunking up."

"WHAT?!"

Several people stopped and stared.

"Half our grade?!" she shouted, and the students began filing past again.

"Good work," Harry whispered, allowing himself a half-smile.

"I had a feeling this would happen!" she hissed. "We've been behaving too oddly, too intimate... and Neville's probably just the first one who'll notice..."

"I owe him an apology," he whispered. "I kind of snapped at him."

Hermione sighed. "You reckon I should just tell the whole school?"

"It's up to you," Harry said, though he doubted she was serious. "I mean, as long as you want to keep it a secret, I'll guard it with my life."

She flashed him an appreciative smile, then sighed. "This isn't going to be pretty..."

~*~

A calm week passed. Harry caught up with Neville and apologized for being so curt (though still adamantly refusing to tell him anything), and Neville reluctantly forgave him. Seamus and Dean hadn't noticed anything, and Ron didn't seem to have picked up on it, either. Ginny and Harry had a similar conversation to the one he had with Neville, but Ginny was not so easily convinced that they weren't shagging in spare broom closets.

"I've seen how closely together you walk in the hallways, the way you keep going into empty classrooms-"

"That's none of your business!" he half-yelled.

"Because this business is so nasty?" she said slyly. Harry avoided speaking with her after this.

Meanwhile, Harry had more time to think about the funny things that had been going on that weren't associated with Hermione. The possible sighting of a Death Eater on his map swam into his thoughts every now and again, though it did no good thinking on it; he still had no idea if it had really happened. The visions, which he had not experienced since Christmas break, still haunted him, and he couldn't help wondering what Voldemort was after. Snape had been less than helpful, and he idly wondered if he should tell Dumbledore about his most recent one.

Strangely enough, just as the students had noticed about himself and Hermione, it seemed to Harry that Ron and Luna were talking more often than before. This puzzled him to no end, as he was under the impression that Ron thought she was incurably dotty. He asked Ron about this one day.

"Well, you and Hermione have been more chummy since Christmas," Ron said sulkily. "Luna's nice enough, even if she is a bit... well, off. She won't let that Crumple-Snorkel thing go, and she wants to go for rides on thestrals all the time."

"Sorry if it seems like we're ignoring you," Harry said earnestly. "But we had all that time together, and-"

"No, really, it's okay," Ron said, attempting a smile. "And I don't believe those weak rumours about you two knobbing, either. I'm sure if I'd been here instead, Hermione would be the one feeling a bit... left out."

Despite the things Ron wasn't aware of, Harry knew he was probably right; it wasn't just the sharing of a secret (and the many strange events that had resulted from it), but it was also spending nearly two weeks exclusively in each other's company. He and Hermione were now best friends, and as good as that made him feel, he couldn't help feeling like he'd lost Ron somewhat. His emotions were somewhat jumbled and melancholy after that.

When he saw Ron at lunch the following day, however, he was near catatonic.

"Why... can't believe... why did I ever... don't understand..."

"Ron, what's wrong?" he and Hermione asked in unison. Ron clenched his hands on Harry's lapels, sinking to the ground. He and Hermione hastened to support their friend. The poor Weasley looked nothing short of deranged.

"She... she asked... why did she ask..." His eyes were as round as saucers, and his breathing was ragged.

"What did she ask?" Hermione asked quickly.

"WHO asked?" Harry said.

"Loony... Luna asked... oh, why oh why oh why oh wh-"

"What did she ask?!" Hermione hissed, shaking him.

"She asked me... asked me OUT..."

They let go in shock and Ron fell to the floor.

"Hogsmeade... Valentine's D... D... it's so weird, why did she..."

Harry started laughing. After a moment, Hermione joined him. Ron, too thunderstruck to notice, kept babbling on the floor, his head in his hands. Eventually, when Professor Flitwick came over to investigate, they slapped Ron back to his senses and hauled him off to their house table.

"What did she say, exactly?" Harry asked, still trying to hide his bemused grin.

"It was the most eccentric proposal ever," he breathed. "'Ron Weasley,' she says to me, 'People go on dates on St. Valentine's Day. You and I should go on one, too.' It's like she was giving the weather!"

As if waiting for a signal, Luna started walking over to their table.

"Not a word," Ron hissed.

"Ron," she said, her wand bobbing slightly from its perch behind her ear. "I was just wondering if you'd made up your mind about Hogsmeade. It would be nice to know ahead of time." She did, in fact, say it with the air of someone asking if they'd left a sock at your house mistakenly.

"I'll... let you know," he croaked.

She nodded, and her wand swayed even more. She turned her bulging eyes on Harry. "Harry Potter. You and Hermione Granger have been having sex lately. Is it as enjoyable as the rumours say?"

Harry fell backward off the bench, knocking over his pumpkin juice. Ron covered his face with his palm. Several heads throughout the Great Hall turned, gaping at them. Hermione's eye was twitching, and she looked as if she wanted to dissolve - or wring Luna's neck.

~*~

"Please practice the Stunner and the Impediment Jinx before we meet next," Albus Dumbledore called after the departing students. "I recommend doing it in pairs, of course."

As Harry filed past his desk, however, he found the wrinkled hand of the headmaster blocking his way. A slip of parchment was in it. He looked up, confusion in his eyes.

"Well, go on, then," Dumbledore said, gesturing with the hand holding the paper. His voice was cheerful enough, but it did not reach his eyes. Harry took it, then the headmaster shooed him out.

"What kept you?" Ron asked when he rejoined them further along the hallway.

"I don't know, yet." He unfolded the parchment and read:

Harry Potter,

Professor McGonagall will escort yourself and Hermione Granger to my office this evening at half past six o'clock. Please be in the common room at that time.

Sincerely,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

"I didn't know Dumbledore had such a lengthy name," Hermione said.

"What d'you reckon?" Ron said. "It doesn't sound like he wants to pat you on the back."

"Who can say?" Harry crumpled it up and stuffed it in his bag.

"I hope it's nothing to do with us." She sounded quite uneasy. "He may suspect we really are having it away left and right."

"I don't think so. He told me that he doesn't hold with the grapevine."

"Nothing for it but the waiting game, then," Ron said, hands in his pockets.

~*~

"Please, sit."

Hermione sat immediately. Harry hesitated, then followed suit. Dumbledore was behind his desk, his fingertips pressed together in front of his crooked nose much the way Snape had done, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Professor McGonagall, also suppressing a smile, strode from the room as soon as Harry sat, the doors closing with a dull thud after her.

"Please, sir-"

"Patience, dear boy."

Harry's brow furrowed. Why had he been asked here to sit on his bum?

But they had barely been there a few minutes when Professor McGonagall returned, and those who accompanied her were the last two people Harry had expected to walk through the doors. Hermione gave a little gasp.

"Mum!!! Dad!!!"

Beaming, she jumped up from her chair and ran to them. Harry couldn't help smiling himself as he watched them embrace, listened to Hermione's delighted laughter and her parents' loving greetings. After a few moments, they all moved toward the desk, and Harry shook hands with Mr. Granger, then was nearly suffocated by his wife.

"Oh, you dear boy, you wonderful-"

"Ehrm-!" That was about all he could manage.

"Please, Jane, you're going to smother the poor lad!" Mr. Granger chided her good-naturedly, a hearty laugh in his tones. Harry noticed his teeth were extremely straight and white, and was reminded forcibly of one Gilderoy Lockhart. "It's that Puckle mollycoddling gene acting up again. Really, dear, control yourself!"

Meanwhile, Hermione was still beside herself with joy. "Mother, Father, it's so great to see you! What are you doing here?"

"Have a seat, all of you," Dumbledore said, the smile having eluded his efforts to subdue it. He conjured up a few extra chairs with a flick of his wand, and though the Grangers jumped slightly, it was much less so than most Muggles would have.

"I don't understand, Professor," Harry began. "I mean... if this is a family visit, why am I here? I'm just in the way."

"In the way?" Mr. Granger said, sounding affronted. "Perish the thought! I daresay you should get in the way more often!"

Hermione smiled. "I sent Mother and Father an owl about my telling you everything, making sure to note how good a friend you are, and how often you've snatched me from the jaws of certain peril. The post they sent back was nearly as long as that one Percy sent Ron last year!"

Harry scoffed. "That unabridged novel? Why so long?"

"Most of it was filled will your praises," she said, looking at her parents now. "I reckon they wanted to express their gratitude in person."

"Yes, exactly," her mother said, her eyes shining, a handkerchief held under one eye. He noticed her hair was barely a hint darker than that of her daughter's, though it was pulled into a bun. "Our dear daughter landing in such dire situations, and you always being there for her... it's no mystery why she chose to confide in you."

Harry's gaze dropped to the floor, a modest smile on his lips.

"Professor," Hermione said, turning to him, "I didn't think parental visits were commonplace at Hogwarts."

"The Grangers insisted so strongly," he said bemusedly. "In fact, I'm not sure how they acquired the owls to deliver such a barrage of post to me. I do understand that it would've been rather impossible for them to visit Harry at the Dursleys', or for him to visit your home, so... well, maybe just this once, I could bend the rules a touch."

Over the next hour, after Professor McGonagall had brought in a tray of tea, pumpkin juice and biscuits, Harry felt himself pinken steadily as Hermione's family cooed over him, asking him questions about various things, commending him on several counts, and generally making a fuss. Eventually, Dumbledore asked Hermione if she would like to show them around the grounds, and she gleefully dragged them through the doors and down the stone steps.

Harry was right behind them until he felt Professor McGonagall's hand grasp his arm.

"Professor Dumbledore would like a quick word with Potter," she said to Hermione, who had glanced behind her and was moving back toward the door. "He will catch up with you afterward."

She hesitated, then flashed him an uncertain smile before skipping back down the steps toward her folks.

Harry spoke before Dumbledore could. "Professor... I take it you know... about Hermione, that is."

"Yes. It was a simple matter of what they'd marked down for 'gender' on her birth certificate. Among the staff, only myself and Professor McGonagall are aware of this fact. I am pleased to see that she has trusted this with another student; it will strengthen her sense of security, of confidence and general well-being - and she would've been hard-pressed to find anyone more worthy."

Harry, the compliment causing him to pinken once again, started to ask him what he thought of it, or why the other teachers hadn't been informed, but at that moment he noticed that Dumbledore seemed to want to discuss something of more importance, and stayed silent.

"The reason I asked for you to remain behind is not quite as pleasant as the Grangers' visit, Harry."

"Voldemort," he said at once. Professor McGonagall blinked, but made no other movement or sound.

"Yes. The visions. Professor Snape has informed me that you had another one shortly before the holidays."

"Yeah... and did he tell you what it was about?"

"He did." Those bright blue eyes were piercing. "Have you had any other visions since?"

"Just one... over Christmas break. It was just like the one at the end of October."

"I see. Denied again, Tom," he said, more to himself than to Harry.

After several lengthening seconds, Professor McGonagall gave a cough, and Dumbledore spoke again.

"Is there anything else you wish to tell me?"

Hesitation. There were more things, but they would make him sound mad... and would also give away his possession of the Marauder's Map, which he would probably be relieved of immediately. He was quite curious as to what Dumbledore would think of his seeing Bellatrix on some bit of parchment, but found he did not want to pay the price of handing over such a treasure - or being perceived as mental by the faculty.

"No, Professor."



~*~ To Be Continued