Harry Potter and the Perseus Castle

By Ahn Na Blue

Standard Disclaimer: We all know who owns Harry Potter. And we all know it isn’t me.

AN: Many thanks to everyone who read Chapter One. The reviews were extremely insightful.

Chapter Two: Hagrid’s News

“Ron!” Harry yelled, chasing after him. “Ron!” But the red headed boy didn’t turn around. Harry was a little relieved. He really had no idea what he was going to say. What could he say to make Ron feel better? He had just seen his best friend kissing the girl he had loved for years. Harry thought for a moment of how he would feel if he suddenly turned a corner and saw Ron kissing Hermione, and decided he was lucky not to have a black eye just then.

Ron didn’t stop running until he reached the boy’s dorms. When he did stop, he did so abruptly, almost making Harry run into him.

“Ron, I-”

“Shut up Harry,” Ron yelled, his face furiously red. “You stay away from me or I swear I’ll-” He paused then, breathing fast, his fist clenched and wavering in the air. Then he turned and stalked away.

“Ron, will you just listen to me?”

Ron stopped, and turned back to him, his eyes narrowed menacingly.

Harry inhaled and looked into those eyes. He was quickly remembering six years of chocolate frogs and Quidditch practice, of jokes and botched spells, and he was suddenly, completely, wordless. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Oh that’s bloody brilliant! You don’t know what to say.” Ron turned around the empty room with his arms outstretched. “Did everyone hear that? The Boy Who Lived doesn’t know what to say! Someone call Rita Skeeter!” He whirled back on Harry and advanced, making the other boy back up. “Well I’ll tell you what to say. Tell me that you betrayed me. Tell me that you were never my friend, that nothing ever matters besides what YOU feel.”

“Ron, that’s not true. I am your friend. I’m your best friend-”

“You bloody knew I loved her! You knew!” Tears were forming at the corners of Ron’s eyes, and it made Harry want to hex himself. “I went up there to bring Hermione her Potions book. She said she was going to help you with your homework, and then she forgot her book. But I guess she didn’t really need it then, now did she?”

“Ron-”

“Shut up.” He thought for a moment, and his eyes grew more hostile. “How long has this been going on?”

“This is the first time.”

“Right.”

“Ron, I swear.”

“What does it matter to me what you swear? I can’t believe you did this to me! You couldn’t just keep your hands off the one thing I wanted most…” He was really crying now, his voice breaking just like it used to in their second year. “She was supposed to be mine Harry. That was it for me. You get to be the hero, you get to save the world, and I get to be behind you. Except with her. It wasn’t supposed to-”

Ron’s speech made Harry’s throat tighten with a familiar frustration. “Are you forgetting what it has cost me to be that? My whole life is fighting, and danger, and destiny, and ‘oh you’d better save the world Harry’! Do you think it’s what I want? My parents are dead!”

“Oh right, here we go. You lost your parents, you almost died, you have to fight. And because of that everyone is supposed to give you what you want. Because of that everyone sympathizes with you and thinks you deserve it. They’ll think you deserve her just so you can have a little bit of the normal life.”

“And you don’t think I deserve that?” Harry asked sadly.

Ron wiped his eyes hastily. “I don’t mean that.” He slumped down on the nearest bed. “But Harry, don’t you see? I’m not as good a wizard as you. I look funny, with this Weasley red hair. You’re a better flyer, you’re Dumbledore’s favorite pet. You’re the most famous wizard of your age. My parents love you. My parents. I’m your shadow. Your court jester. And now Hermione…but why wouldn’t she love you more.” He laughed ridiculously. “I suppose I should really be thanking you. Because if I weren’t your friend, if I hadn’t been dragged into all these dangerous situations, there’d be nothing special about me at all. I’d just be the sixth Weasley brother, a penniless, ruddy bad wizard with a long nose.”

Harry stood quietly. It was true he had been focused on his fight with Voldemort. For six years he had focused on it. And maybe he hadn’t noticed that his best friend was getting pushed to the side by everyone. Maybe he hadn’t paused to think about how that would feel.

“Ron-”

“Harry,” Ron said slowly. “Just get out, will you?”

***************************************

After looking for Hermione in the Common Room, and the Great Hall, he finally found her still in the Owlery, splitting her affection between Hedwig and Pigwidgeon. Her back was to the door, which allowed him to stand there for a moment and just watch her. Everything had happened so fast. Too fast. Locating Voldemort. Kissing Hermione. The blowout with Ron. The day was like a whirlwind, and he hadn’t had time to think.

“You’ve been waiting here?”

“I didn’t know where else to go.” She turned to him. He thought she still looked a little shaky. “How’s Ron?”

“Not good. He doesn’t want to see either of us.”

Hermione sighed. “What did he say?”

Harry walked over to Hedwig and stroked her feathers, looking at the owl while he talked. “He said a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“He’s really upset.”

Hermione tugged on his robes. “Harry, what did he say?”

“He said that I betrayed him.” Harry closed his eyes and spat out the rest. “He said that he was sick of always being in my shadow. That he was sick of me always getting what I wanted just because of who I am.”

Hermione looked suddenly outraged. “He didn’t say that! What could he be thinking? It’s as not as if he hasn’t been here these last six years-”

“I understand what he’s saying.”

Hermione quieted and sat down on the windowsill.

“I’ve been so focused on how hard it is to be who I am, The Boy Who Lived,” he spat the words. “That I haven’t even bothered to think about what it must be like for Ron. He’s always been there for me, right there behind me, and I…I guess I took that for granted. I didn’t stop to think that he might think of himself as, second.”

“Harry, you can’t blame yourself for how he’s feeling.”

Harry shook his head. “Hermione, what happened this morning-”

Hermione stood up and walked a few steps. “Don’t say you regret it Harry. Even if you do…regret it I mean, don’t say it.” She looked down at her hands. “I couldn’t bear that.”

Harry reached out and took her hands, pulling her back to him. “No. I don’t regret it.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I regret what it’s doing to Ron, but I don’t regret this.” He felt her arms come up around him and exhaled, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against hers. “Did you know?” he asked quietly. “Did you know how Ron felt about you?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes closed and frowning slightly. “I’ve known for a long time that he had this, this sort of crush on me. I didn’t know what to do about it at first. I thought maybe if I just avoided physical contact…I didn’t want to send him any of the wrong signals. And then, with Viktor, things got really tense…but after that it seemed to be okay.”

“But it’s obviously not.” Harry spoke lowly. He was still upset about Ron, but he was also thinking about kissing her again. He had his fingers pushed into her hair, cupping her face with his palms. If he just moved forward, an inch, maybe two…

“Oh Harry, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, and then closed the gap and kissed her. She squeezed him tightly and he was struck by the intensity of it, and by how natural it felt, this transition after all the years as friends. He showed his Gryffindor boldness by trailing kisses along her jaw line and down her neck.

“Maybe,” Hermione whispered, a little breathlessly, he thought with some amusement, “Maybe Ron will just adjust to things…”

He reclaimed her mouth for another long kiss and then pulled back to look into her eyes. “He’s going to have to. Because there’s no other girl for me.” He watched her blush and thought back over six years of adventures, conversations, and a little nagging. He might have to save the world, but he knew that she would be the one to save him. “It’s funny,” he began.

“What’s funny?”

“Looking back I realize that you and I have been moving towards each other since the moment we met on the train. Moving forward towards this moment together. And we never even knew it.”

Hermione smiled in his arms and shrugged. “Well actually, I knew it.”

Harry smiled back at her. “But then that’s to be expected. You know everything.”

****************************************

Over the next few days it became obvious that Ron was not adjusting. He sat away from them at meals, left for class early to avoid walking with them, and did all of his homework sitting on his bed with the curtains drawn. He even requested one on one keeper practice, so he wouldn’t have to talk to Harry during Quidditch. On the few occasions that Harry had approached Ron, he had been met with only a mute glare. Harry didn’t think that Hermione had tried to talk to Ron at all.

He and Hermione were sitting in the Common Room, catching up on Advanced Potions before class. Harry was having trouble focusing. He kept glancing over at the empty chair where Ron usually sat.

“Come on Harry,” Hermione tapped his hand with her quill. “We only have twenty minutes left, and even I need to hurry.” She blushed and he felt her foot touch his under the table. “You’ve been keeping me too busy to study.”

Harry smiled until Ron came bursting through on his way to Potions. Harry and Hermione both looked up, but he ignored them, brushing by their chairs and practically diving through the portrait hole.

After he was gone, Harry stared down blankly at his parchment.

“I miss him too,” Hermione whispered.

******************************

When they got to Advanced Potions, they sat in their usual seats near the back. Ron’s spot stayed empty. He was sitting a few rows ahead of them, with Neville. Professor Snape was already outlining the day’s lesson, a potion that, when sprinkled into the eyes of a hostile animal, would render the beast cheerful and obedient. It seemed pretty pointless to Harry. Who would want to get close enough to a hostile animal to sprinkle anything into its eyes?

“There are forty-seven steps.” Snape announced, waving his wand at the blackboard to make them appear. “The potion will be ready immediately upon the completion of the forty-seventh step. But it is unlikely that any of you will make it that far without error. When the potion is complete it should be completely colorless and very thin. Remember to read through all the instructions carefully before commencing. I’m speaking directly to you, Mr. Weasley.” Snape whirled and stared at the empty space where Ron usually sat. He scowled and scanned the room, his beady black eyes finally coming to rest on Ron. “Mr. Weasley it is difficult enough to teach you without your flitting all about the room. Return to your usual seat.”

“But Professor-” Ron interjected.

“Now. And five points from Gryffindor for your objection.”

Ron slumped and gathered his equipment before trudging back to where Harry and Hermione were sitting, holding hands beneath the table. Hermione made a move to take her hand away but Harry held it fast. Ron would have to come to terms with things sooner or later. He hoped it was sooner.

They started on their potions. Hermione’s remained brilliantly clear, staying crystalline even as she tapped powdered moonstone into it. Within minutes, Harry’s potion had turned into a cloudy, somewhat purple mess. Glancing over at Ron’s, he saw that his was even worse: dark gray and the consistency of mud. It wasn’t looking good for them making it to the forty-seventh step.

Harry sighed in frustration and Hermione reached for his hand and kissed it, then went back to her work, which was, Harry noticed with a mixture of pride and envy, still perfectly clear. He looked up at the board again to reread the instructions. Perhaps he had missed something.

But instead of the chalkboard he saw Professor Snape, who was watching them work with a strange, displeased look on his face. He saw Snape look over at Ron, and then back at him and Hermione, frowning.

When the period was over, the Potions master walked up and down the rows, grading the results. Harry bristled as he watched. Whatever Snape had said to Neville had almost made him cry. No matter how much better Neville got at all his other subjects, Potions remained a mystery to him. Harry thought it was probably due to his fear of the teacher.

When Snape got to them, Harry was glaring openly at him. Hermione reached for Harry’s hand under the table. Snape looked at her potion, which bore a striking resemblance to spring water. He nodded curtly to indicate that she had done well. Then he looked at Harry’s potion, which was completely purple and appeared to be steaming. “That potion is laughable, Mr. Potter. You’ll receive no credit.”

It seemed that he would have to say the same for Ron’s potion, which was black, and so thick that it could barely be stirred. But instead he paused, and Harry watched as he leaned over the desk and sniffed at it once, then again.

“Try adding this piece of amber resin, Mr. Weasley,” he said, opening his palm and revealing a small golden stone. “And then heat it with your wand, just to boiling.” Ron had his mouth hanging open in puzzlement, but he did as he was told, and the potion bubbled the black away and became thinner, until it was the color and consistency of butterbeer. Ron looked up at Professor Snape, amazed.

“That is a highly acceptable potion, Mr. Weasley,” Snape announced loudly. He glanced down at Ron’s shocked face and then looked over at Harry and Hermione, his gaze resting on their joined hands. For a moment Harry thought that Snape looked like he was remembering something, and then he did something strange. He put his hand on Ron’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Then he quickly walked away, dismissing them with a wave.

***************************

Harry was midway through a meat pie when Professor McGonagall tapped him on the shoulder, causing the ruckus in the great hall to come to a halt. Harry dropped his fork and turned to her.

“It’s like I never get to finish a meal,” he joked, trying to calm Hermione, who was looking at him with the same worried expression she always got when Dumbledore summoned him.

“This is no time for jokes, Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said sternly. “You are to come with me at once. And you as well, Miss Granger. And-” she paused and looked around the dining hall. “Come on, you two. We must be quick.”

Harry grasped Hermione’s hand tightly as they strained to walk fast enough to keep up with Professor McGonagall. Her palm seemed clammy. He couldn’t imagine what had happened that would require the both of them being called to Dumbledore’s office. Unless…

“Ron!” Hermione whispered, characteristically reading his mind. “You don’t think something’s happened to him? You don’t think he’s done something?!”

Harry shook his head mutely as they were ushered up the stairs and into the office. But he was worried. If anything had happened to Ron- he didn’t want to think about it. They heard the passageway click shut behind them and found themselves alone; McGonagall hadn’t even taken her leave. They looked at each other nervously.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said, striding into the room with a rejuvenated Fawkes sitting gloriously on his shoulder. “Miss Granger.” He looked for a moment at their linked hands and Harry thought he could see a smile forming underneath the great white beard. “Please have a seat.”

“Could you tell us what’s happening, Professor?”

“Of course Harry,” Dumbledore smiled. “But first perhaps you’d like to welcome back our Care of Magical Creatures teacher.”

“Hagrid!” Harry and Hermione shouted in unison as Hagrid appeared, stepping thunderously towards them to receive hugs.

“Harry! Hermione!” The half giant laughed heartily. “Where’s Ron?”

Harry’s smile faded and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. Luckily, Dumbledore interrupted.

“Hagrid has returned with excellent news. He has found the weapon that you will use in the coming battle.”

Harry gulped and looked at Hermione, who was turning paler by the second. He wasn’t exactly sure he would call that ‘excellent news’.

“Tha’s right. I migh not be too good at huntin’ Deatheaters, but I keep my ear ter the ground.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore smiled. “Which means that you’ll be departing on a quest.”

Just then the passageway opened and Professor McGonagall entered again. With Ron.

“My apologies, Albus, he wasn’t in the Great Hall. I had to fetch him from Gryffindor Tower.”

“Hagrid!” Ron exclaimed and ran over to him as Dumbledore continued.

“And when I say ‘you’ I mean you, Harry, and Miss Granger,” he looked at Ron. “And Mr. Weasley.”

“What?” Ron asked. “What about Mr. Weasley?”

Dumbledore gestured for them all to be seated, with the exception of Hagrid, who wouldn’t fit into the chairs, and might break the desk were he to lean on it.

“Hagrid has discovered the resting place of Medusa’s Mirror.”

“What’s that Professor?”

Hermione answered instead. “Medusa’s Mirror. I read about it somewhere. It only reflects the truth, and has amazing powers of magnification.”

“How’s that going to help Harry fight You-Know-Who?” Ron asked, and then seemed to regret asking, refusing to meet Harry’s eyes.

“The mirror has many uses, Mr. Weasley. It will be up to Harry to wield it well.” Dumbledore winked at him, and then grew serious. “But time is of the essence. I’m afraid you’ll have to be excused from classes immediately. You see, Medusa’s Mirror can only be used by the one who finds it. So it is of the utmost importance that we find it before Voldemort does. If he gets his hands on it first, there won’t even be any point in our stealing it back.”

“Where is it,” Harry asked, standing.

“It is in the Cave of the Faith, in the frozen north. But be on your guard. Several mirrors are housed there. You must choose the right one. If you do not, the consequences of the cave will be dire.” Dumbledore rose to signal the end of the discussion. “You’ll have a few minutes to change into some warmer clothes, and then meet down in the courtyard to depart.”

“I brought Buckbeak for ye,” Hagrid said happily. “He’ll get ye there in two shakes.”

As they disbanded, Harry asked Dumbledore, “Professor, why are Ron and Hermione going with me? Isn’t it a bit dangerous? Deatheaters could be on our tail.”

“Harry, have you thought about what we discussed when we spoke last?”

Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said about his fighting alone. “Yes Professor. But I’m afraid I still don’t quite know what you mean.”

Dumbledore nodded. “You will. In the meantime, on this quest you must remember, that three minds are better than one.” He paused and stared directly at Ron. “And better than two.”

******************************

When Harry got to the courtyard, Hagrid was already there, feeding Buckbeak several dead ferrets. Harry bowed low before he approached the Hippogriff, and then walked up to stroke his grey coat. He would always be grateful to the creature for carrying Sirius to safety.

Hermione was there next, with a long black cloak over her robes and three scarves wrapped around her neck. Her ears were muffed and her hands were mittened. Harry thought she looked extremely cute. She bowed to Buckbeak and then came up to pat him.

“Sorry I’m late, I wanted to grab a small reference book to tell us more about the Mirror.” She tapped her cloak pocket to signify where it was hidden.

Harry turned as he heard Ron’s voice behind him.

“I don’t know why I’m going on this hair-brained mission.”

Harry bristled. “This quest was Dumbledore’s idea.”

Ron looked regretful. “Right. But I don’t know how we’re all supposed to fit on Buckbeak. Why can’t I take a thestral?”

“You can’t see thestrals, Ron,” Hermione pointed out gently.

“Fine. Then let Harry take a thestral and you and I can take Buckbeak.” Harry frowned. Somehow Ron seemed less angry at Hermione, and he didn’t think that was fair. He also didn’t particularly like Ron’s suggestion that the two of them ride together. He stepped closer to the Hippogriff and launched himself onto his back, ignoring Ron’s scowl.

“Ye know Ron, ye’d better take Buckbeak. He’s better equipped for the temperatures of the frozen north n’ the thestrals are.” Hagrid puffed with pride for his knowledge of magical animals.

“I’m not hanging on to you,” Ron sneered at Harry.

“I’d rather you didn’t anyway,” Harry shrugged and held his hand out for Hermione, who climbed up behind him with a grimace. “Don’t worry,” he whispered to her. “We won’t do any swooping or back flips.” She smiled at him weakly.

Ron was still kicking his shoes into the dirt when Snape strode into the courtyard.

“You weren’t really going to allow them to leave without this, were you?” He hissed at Hagrid. “Here, Mr. Weasley.” He stuffed three vials of glowing gold liquid into Ron’s hands.

“What’re these?”

For a moment Snape looked like he might give Ron a frustrated reaming for not reading his Advanced Potions textbook, but instead he looked at Harry and Hermione astride Buckbeak and calmed.

“They are three vials of Flammarion Serum. Taken in small sips, the serum will restore the entire body to a comfortable temperature. You’ll need it. Trust me.” He turned to go, then paused. “And remember to spare a few drops on a dead ferret for the Hippogriff. Keep its lungs from freezing.”

“Speaking o’ Buckbeak,” Hagrid grinned. “Who wants to carry ‘is sack o’ ferrets?”

“I’m not carrying that sack of dead things,” Ron declared. “Besides, there isn’t really room.”

“Well he’ll need ferrets,” Hagrid said, worried. “Ye’ll have ter feed im before ye come back.”

“Here, Hagrid,” said Snape impatiently. “Give me the sack.”

Hagrid handed over the burlap bag cautiously, and Snape snatched it and dropped it on the ground. Then he took a small silver flask from his pocket and sprinkled its contents all over the burlap. The sack shriveled down to one sixteenth of its original size.

“A shrinking potion,” Hermione said delightedly.

“Precisely Miss Granger,” Snape said without looking at her. “And in this bottle is what you’ll need to unshrink them, which I’ll put inside the pouch.” He dropped a glass bottle of gray powder into the sack, which was now the size of a change purse, and handed it to Hermione. “Only unshrink what you need.” And then without another word, he walked away.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched Snape leave, then Ron spun back to them.

“All right, make some room.” He heaved himself onto Buckbeak’s hindquarters and adjusted his stocking cap.

“Ron, maybe you’d better give us each a vial of serum,” Harry suggested.

“I’ve got it,” Ron muttered moodily. “Let’s just get this bird off the ground. Find the mirror so you can save the world and I can graduate and get a job as an honorary House Elf.”

To be continued….