Forevermore

The next week few weeks were relatively uneventful. Hermione had decided to put her boy drama at the back of her mind and concentrate on getting ahead in her classes. Everyday after their lessons, she would retire to the library, where she would stay till dinner. Dinner had become the time all of them came together. After, they would go back to their common room where they would usually sit near the fire, Hermione on the carpet with her books on the low coffee table, getting some extra reading done, while the boys wrapped up their homework, played chess or discussed quidditch. Every once in a while, they were joined by Neville or Ginny. It was the closest to normal she felt.

It was a Friday evening when Harry approached her, right after their final lesson of the day.

“Hermione, listen. Do you remember when I told you I had something in the talks with McGonagall that would be therapeutic for the eight years? She has finally given permission. I will reveal it tonight in the common room, so please be there.”

“Sure Harry. I have to say I’m quite curious now,” she said.

“It isn’t much, but I do think it will help. Any way I’m going to try and get an hour of flying in before dinner, so I’ll see you then!” he exclaimed beginning to trot down the stairs.

“Ahem. Hi everyone. Could I have your attention for a minute?” said Harry nervously. As promised, he had waited till everyone was in the common room at night.

“Is this going to be a weekly thing now?” snarked Pansy.

“Should we expect the Gryffindors to make weekly declarations on how to uphold peace? I must say the whole saints act is getting a little old,” she continued.

Completely ignoring Pansy, Harry persisted.

 “Last year, we all survived a war. It doesn’t matter whether we were on the run or at school, it doesn’t matter what our house was or what our blood-status, I can safely say none of us felt safe. Every one of us fought our own battle. And it can be difficult to just go about our days as if nothing happened. This school has always been my safe haven, but some days all I can do is fixate on how it was destroyed How, even though every brick has been replaced and every crack restored, a piece of me has been lost in the wreckage.”

Hermione felt herself being moved by his words. She knew how Harry felt about Hogwarts, but hearing him speak so openly about it here, in front of their whole year, sparked a new kind of hope in her.

“So, I spoke to McGonagall, and she has agreed to give us extra space,” he announced, gesturing towards a short staircase near the kitchen, that had definitely not been there before. Why don’t you follow me, and I can show you?”

They all trudged up the stairs to see a vast empty floor, identical to their common room downstairs. Even the windows were replicated.

“Right now, it’s empty, but I thought we could all find some way to fight our demons here. For instance, I would like to wall-off a space so we can reform the DADA group. It can be a good way to channel our anger and keep our skills sharp. Might even help in our NEWTs. Those of you who weren’t there before can also join” he said nodding towards the Slytherins.

“The rest of the space is also for us to use, for any recreational activities we have an interest in.”

“I could start a book club,” said Theo.

“I would love to set-up a gym,” said Neville.

“Both excellent ideas,” said Harry smiling.

Hermione could see he was glad the concept was catching on.

“Right, so tomorrow I’ll have our first session here. I am planning to keep one every Saturday morning. However, the space will be open to everyone at all times. We used to call ourselves Dumbledore’s Army. I thought we could call this the Defence Academy instead, keep the DA for old times’ sake”

“The DA!” cheered Neville and many echoed him.

As a buzz of conversation filled the room, Harry stepped over to Hermione.

“What do u think?” he asked eagerly.

“This is absolutely brilliant Harry,” she beamed.

“I mean bringing back the DA is good in itself but leaving the space open for everyone to do their own thing is just brilliant!” she said proudly.

“Thanks Hermione,” he blushed.

“I also have been thinking of your sleep problem. How have you been managing?”

“I kept my word and halved my potion dosage, so sleep isn’t that great,” she said truthfully, unable restrain her scowl as she did.

“I think I have a potion-free solution to your plight,” proffered Harry.

“Which is?”

“Occlumency.”

“Oh?” said Hermione a little baffled.

“Why do you think occlumency will help?” she enquired.

“Well, it’s just a theory, but I don’t get any nightmares anymore, no matter how distraught I am.”

After the battle, the three of them had been subjected to healer evaluations to assess their physical and mental health. When the healers had tried to broach Harry’s mind, they had found it impenetrable. It seemed his mind, that had harboured an open connection with Voldemort’s for so long, had healed with a vengeance. Harry had become a natural occlumens.

“Even if you’re right Harry, and I hope you are, who will teach me?”

“Yes, now about that,” he said elusively. “I asked around, and I actually did find someone who is a pretty good occlumens and agreed to teach you.”

“Great. Who?”

Harry looked over her shoulder. Hermione turned to find Theo behind her.

 “I overheard Potter asking professor Slughorn,” he stated.

“I didn’t know you were an occlumens.”

“No. Not me. I couldn’t occlude if my life depended on it. However, I do know someone who is excellent at it.”

“Who?” croaked Hermione, dreading she already knew the answer.

“Draco of course.”

Hermione spent all of next morning in the library. She kept telling herself it was to get her grades up and not because she was avoiding everyone. Eventually though she checked her watch and it was almost time for their first DA session. She packed up her books and left for their common room.

Harry was waiting when she arrived, a large smile of relief spreading over his face.

“I thought maybe you didn’t want to come,” he said sheepishly.

“As if,” was her prompt reply.

They both climbed up the stairs to the newly formed practice room. The walls of the room were all glass, letting in the morning sunlight and making the room feel airy.

“Alright,” began Harry “let me first acquaint you with the space. There are plenty of cushions, defensive books on the shelves, and a supply of chocolate, the latter all thanks to the school’s elves.”

“The walls can be frosted over,” he said demonstrating the same with a simple glamour, “should you need some personal time.”

Once everyone had taken a look around, he started the day’s session.

“Today we are going to start with a basic shielding spell because first we need to learn how to hold our own, then we learn offence. On the count of three I want you to send any spell my way. Whatever spell you like, while I will protect against them.”

“One”

“Two”

 “Three!”

A shower of spells rained on Harry as he yelled “Protego!”

Harry had continued practicing his duelling skills after the battle and his hard work was showing now. As the spells all reached him, they bounced off his shield harmlessly.

This display garnered a collective sound of awe from their peers.

“Shielding is very important while duelling,” Harry explained.

 “Whether you attack or defend, a strong shield can be the difference between winning and losing. So, split-up in twos. One of you will shield and the other will send a non-lethal spell your way. I am watching and will come around to everyone, offering whatever help I can.”

Everyone quietly followed his instructions and started pairing up.

“It never stops to amaze me, the way you have a hold on a crowd of people,” said Hermione.

He disregarded her compliment and instead asked, “If you don’t mind, will you partner with me?”

They got into stance. Harry sent a myriad of spells her way against which she had to shield. They performed the same action over, and over, and over again. Harry knew she was getting sloppy in her sparring skills, so he pushed her, varying his spells in intensity and in pace, till she successfully shielded against ten spells consecutively, the last one being non verbal.

“Great job Hermione,” he praised her.

“Thanks,” she panted back, not trusting herself to be able to say anything more while trying to catch her breath.

He then started his rounds, pausing to offer words of advice or correcting someone’s stance.

By lunch they were all tired and hungry and readily went down to the great hall.

They were met by Ginny at the table.

“Why weren’t you there today?” asked Hermione

“I had quidditch practice,” was the only reply she got. Any further queries were drowned by Ron’s moans of pleasure as he scarfed down pie and mash.

The rest of the day went pleasantly enough. They were all lounging in the common room. Ginny had been gossiping about a scandalous affair in her year. Hermione felt content and tranquil. That is, until a small memo in the shape of a bird landed in her lap. She opened it to find written in an ornate writing -

‘Occlumency at 4pm tomorrow. Meet me outside potions classroom.

-D.M’

“Harry did you arrange for Malfoy to teach me Occlumency?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yes. I told you in the morning I did,” he said obtusely.

“Yes. But I assumed you just discussed it in theory. You know, as a far off possibility. I didn’t think you would just fix up a meeting without asking me first,” she said perplexed.

“Look Hermione if I overstepped, I’m sorry. If it makes you comfortable, I can come with you, just to make sure he doesn’t try anything funny.”

Hermione took a deep breath. She couldn’t explain to Harry that it wasn’t her safety she was concerned about, just the sanity of her mind. Maybe having Harry act as chaperone would help, she thought rationally. But another part of her mind was wondering what it would be like if they were together alone, if it would be just as intense as the last and only other time they had shared a space.

Unwittingly, she said “It’s alright Harry I’ll go by myself.”

Hermione woke up in the early hours of Sunday covered in sweat. She had dreamt of her parents, of what may have happened if she hadn’t sent them away. She always dreamt that her house was on fire, her parents trapped inside. She would hear their screams as they tried to escape.

She quickly got out the two-way portrait she had installed in her parents’ room. She looked at the blank canvas and asked out aloud “are they safe?”

A young Hermione showed herself. “They’re safe. They’re at work right now”, she pacified her real-life self.

Relief swept over Hermione.

“Thank you”, she whispered to the portrait, placing it back in the nightstand while peeling off her damp sheets from over her.

Needing some air, she walked out barefoot to the kitchen to get a drink of water. She was surprised to see Theo sitting at the Slytherin couch, looking out of the windows lost in thought. She almost turned back, but something about the way Theo was hunched over with his knees folded made her go to him.

She silently went and sat next to him. He, in turn, showed only the slightest hint of surprise, before unfolding himself and leaning into her shoulder.

They both sat there, wallowing in their grief wordlessly for a long while.

It was Hermione who broke the silence first.

“I had to send my parents away. After Voldemort came to power, I had to send them away, for their safety. At that time, it was all I could think of. That I needed them to be safe. After we – Harry – defeated him, I went to see them, to try and bring them back. I got a healer to look at them. But she warned me against trying to get their memories back. I had erased so many memories that they could never be restored properly and would leave them muddled at best. Now I live in constant guilt. If I had let them stay, and if Voldemort or the death eaters had caught them - I would’ve never survived that. But now, I have to live knowing what I took from them - a whole lifetime.”

“My father was a horrible human being,” whispered Theo in return.

“Before Hogwarts, he used to keep me locked-in for days at a time if I did as much as looked at him wrong. He used to love terrorising me. After the death eaters regrouped, he became even more of a monster. He would use the cruciatus on me whenever he felt like, as many times as he felt like. Coming back to Hogwarts last year was my only option. But here I was the son of a death eater. I was expected to do to others what he did to me, I was expected to ‘punish’ 11-year-olds. I would’ve never made it if it hadn’t been for Draco and Pansy. Then, after the battle, they found him dead in the forbidden forest. I should feel relieved, but all I feel is indignation. I had fantasised for so long that I would be the one to kill him. Now I will never have that closure,” he said with a glint in his eyes.

Their confessions made, they both sat there side-by-side, watching the sun rise together.