Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Damaged Bridges	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 46870 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all rights belong to Rowling and Warner Bros, nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Silver Linings

The scrambled eggs churned uncomfortably atop the porridge in Hermione’s stomach when she saw the headline of the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. Worriedly, she glanced up at the staff-table, then at Harry, who was chortling along with Neville at something Ron had just said. Hermione almost considered not saying anything for the time-being, and giving Harry a bit longer to enjoy a carefree moment.
But as a murmur of shock and bewilderment rose in the Great Hall among those others who took the morning paper, Hermione knew it was pointless. Better for Harry to find out from her now, rather than hear it from others as the day wore on. In any case, Harry had apparently noticed the frown on her face as she read the Prophet.
“What’s wrong now, Hermione?” asked Harry, sounding as if he were bracing himself for more bad news.
“Did someone we know snuff it?” asked Ron, almost cavalierly.
“Ron!” gasped Lavender, aggrieved. Ron immediately shaped his face into a more appropriate look of concern.
“Er... sorry Lavender!” he said as sincerely as he could muster.
“It’s alright,” she returned, patting his hand affectionately. “I know you’re just trying to put a brave face on things.”
“It’s nothing like that anyway,” said Hermione, passing the paper to Harry. “But it’s not good...”
“Bloody hell!” Harry swore, his cheeks paling. Neville looked horrified as he peered over Harry’s shoulder. “Oh no!” Harry groaned as he continued reading.
“What is it? What’s going on?” asked Ron, sounding slightly exasperated when nobody said anything.
“According to this, Dumbledore was once Grindelwald’s best friend,” Neville replied, scowling, “and he believed the same tosh about ruling over muggles.”
“No way!” snorted Ron. “There’s no bloody way!”
“I don’t believe it!” squeaked Parvati. “That’s not possible. Skeeter’s just making rubbish up again, isn’t she?”
“Not entirely, I’m afraid...” Hermione shared a dark questioning look with Harry.
“It’s sort of true, but not like that - not the way Skeeter is making it sound, anyway,” Harry growled as he scanned the article. “Dumbledore was a friend of Grindelwald for a few months shortly after Hogwarts, but they had a falling out when Dumbledore snapped out of it and realised Grindelwald was evil.
“Dumbledore didn’t really want to hurt muggles... he was just upset for a bit because some muggle boys had hurt his younger sister really badly when she was little, and for a while, he thought it might be better if wizards ran everything...”
“...benevolently,” Hermione interjected, just to make things perfectly clear, taking the newspaper back from Harry. “But when Dumbledore found out that Grindelwald’s plans included torturing and murdering muggles, he realised that what he was doing was wrong, and they fought. His sister got killed during the fight with Grindelwald, and Dumbledore’s tried to make things right ever since.”
“Blimey!” Ron gawked at Harry and Hermione, amazed. “How do you two know so much about Dumbledore? I’ve never heard any of this before.”
“Me neither,” said Neville, equally stunned; indeed, everyone in earshot of Harry and Hermione looked utterly bewildered.
“Er...” Harry peered at Ron, feeling very awkward suddenly, now that he and Ron were on good terms again. It occurred to him that there was loads he hadn’t shared with Ron lately; and at this point it seemed more than a bit too late to mention the whole horcrux situation. Harry had to agree with Dumbledore; the less who knew that they were hunting horcruxes, the better.
“Erm... He told us,” Harry said when he began again. “Hermione and I... er, we’ve been taking Occlumency and Legilimency lessons with Dumbledore...”
Ron’s eyes bulged even more, looking like they might fall out of his head. “Bloody hell! No wonder you’ve been so busy lately!”
“That’s supposed to be really hard,” said Parvati, looking very impressed.
“It is,” said Harry.
Hermione nodded in agreement. “Dumbledore told us about his sister and Grindelwald so that there wouldn’t be any nasty surprises - just in case we managed to break through his defences. ... Anyway, this article makes it sound like Dumbledore still doesn’t really care about muggles, or muggleborn wizards. Here, listen...
“‘These unsettling revelations uncovered during the ongoing investigation into Dumbledore’s possible role in Scrimgeour’s disappearance raise a whole host of disturbing new questions. Is it possible that Dumbledore’s longstanding concern for the rights of muggles and muggleborn wizards is feigned? Might it be that he is merely using them - involving them in some sort of conspiracy to advance his own agenda and wield even greater power, possibly in a bid to taking over the Ministry?
“‘And what bearing does all this have on Dumbledore’s longstanding blood-feud with You-Know-Who? Did You-Know-Who take up arms to counter Dumbledore’s long-time meddling and influence over Ministry policies, which had up-ended many noble and ancient wizarding traditions in the decades following the downfall of Grindelwald in the mid 1940’s?
“‘What role did the Potters and their son play in promoting a pro-muggle ideology and the dilution of wizarding bloodlines with muggle blood? Like his father, Harry Potter is well-known for consorting with a muggleborn witch, and is rumoured to once again be in a close relationship with her. Indeed, sources indicate that they are now engaged, after years of a will-they/won’t-they relationship fraught with tension and tears following her brief fling with Bulgarian heartthrob, Viktor Krum, which brought their previous romantic liaison crashing to a halt two years ago.
“‘How do The Chosen One and his muggleborn paramour, Hermione Granger, factor into Dumbledore’s plans and the escalating unrest in the wizard world? Could the Ministry be caught in the crossfire between two extremes of ideology, both battling for supremacy in the wizard world? If so, which ideology is ultimately correct?
“‘Minister Umbridge points out quite fairly that unlike the Great Prevaricator, Dumbledore, the misunderstood misanthrope, You-Know-Who, has never made any bones about his goals of restoring a Pureblood led order and making Wizarding Britain Great again.
“‘Dumbledore’s secret past of intrigue and double-dealing with Gellert Grindelwald then, could be key to understanding his current objectives. These questions and more will hopefully be answered in coming weeks as the investigation continues.
“‘Answering them may prove decisive in the road the Ministry takes as it moves forward, seeking out a path to a peaceful resolution to the conflict, while examining itself in the process, rooting out the most dubious policy changes which Dumbledore may have had a hand in over the past five decades.’”
Quiet fell across their section of the Gryffindor table when Hermione finished reading the most important bit of the article. Ron looked utterly confused, and Neville looked like he might be sick. Lavender and Parvati shared appalled glances while Harry and Hermione regarded everyone grimly.
They were all startled when a familiar voice broke the darkening silence, and looked up to see two girls standing nearby, one with a Daily Prophet in her hands, apparently having just arrived from the Ravenclaw table.
“Do you think any of this is true?” Luna’s popping eyes had a troubled look about them.
“Or does this mean that Voldemort has secretly taken over the Ministry and is trying to make Dumbledore and Harry look bad?” asked Ginny.
“A load of it is rubbish,” sighed Harry, “but the bit about Dumbledore once being Gellert Grindelwald’s friend is true. And yeah, we think maybe Voldy has something to do with it, but it could just be all Umbridge’s idea. She’s always hated me and Dumbledore.”
“Why don’t you both sit down with us,” said Hermione, “We were just telling the others what we know anyway...”

~o0o~
It was difficult focusing on schoolwork and the knot in Hermione’s stomach grew throughout the day as she noted Harry’s darkening mood. The buzz of inquiry in the castle and the curious, dubious glances that the other students kept giving Harry stirred far too many uncomfortable memories of previous years. So when Harry opted for having Dobby bring them lunch in their quarters, Hermione readily agreed.
Following lunch, Hermione made her way back to the DADA classroom with Harry and Dora. She stiffened, her eyes narrowing when they neared the Transfiguration classroom and overheard Zacharias Smith trying to convince a group of Hufflepuffs that he had always known Harry was a dangerous traitor.
Harry’s jaw tightened as his brows knitted into a scowl.
“Just try your best to ignore it, Harry,” Hermione murmured.
“Hermione’s right, Harry,” Dora chimed in. “It’s doubtful that little weasel will have much luck with them anyway. Weren’t most of that lot in the DA?”
“Yeah!” Harry nodded, sighing. “That’s true. But so was Smith...” He trailed off, hearing the voices of the Hufflepuffs rising.
“Shut your mouth, Smith!” snapped Susan Bones, reaching for her wand. “Before I shut it for you!”
Hannah Abbott rounded on Smith as well, looking just as infuriated as Susan. “You’ve got some nerve, Zach! You were in on it last year too...”
“Biggest mistake I ever made!” Smith snorted. “Edgecombe had the right idea! And look what happened to her - she’s still got a few scars... Proves what a heartless bitch Granger is!”
Hannah, Susan, and Ernie were all momentarily taken aback, shocked into silence by Smith’s vulgarity. A hot rush of anger swept through Harry. Hermione flushed guiltily.
“I didn’t know the pimples would take so long to fade,” she quietly beseeched Harry. “They weren’t supposed to last that long... just long enough so that we’d know who sold us out and Umbridge couldn’t send any potential traitors to keep spying on us.”
Harry and Dora opened their mouths to reassure Hermione, but they were drowned out by sudden outbursts from Ernie MacMillan and Susan Bones, who had found their voices again.
“Don’t call Hermione a bitch!” Susan yelled. “You’re an idiot, Smith! It’s not like she singled out Marietta and targeted her. Hermione had no idea that it would be Marietta...”
“That was Edgecombe’s own bloody fault!” Ernie shouted over Susan, turning red in the face and looking like he wanted to punch Smith. “She was a traitor, not Harry! Edgecombe deserved it - if Dumbledore hadn’t taken the fall, Harry and Hermione would’ve been expelled and had their wands snapped... banned from magic for life.
“And the rest of us might’ve been expelled and banned for life from magic too, but Harry and Hermione would’ve probably taken the fall for us, and said they’d forced us to join, because that’s the sort of people they really are - loyal and true, unlike you! ... They may be Gryffindors, but they’re better Hufflepuffs than you’ll ever be, Zach! Why you weren’t sorted into Slytherin, I’ll never know! ...”
“MacMillan, what’s all this racket out here? Why aren’t you all in class yet?” Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice cracked like whip as she flung open the door of the classroom, silencing the verbal combatants in the hallway.
“Prefects, shouting in the corridors! This is totally unacceptable!” McGonagall angrily declared as she bustled everyone into an empty classroom next to her own, shooting a look at Hermione, and at Ron - who had only just showed up moments ago with Lavender, Parvati, and Neville in tow - as if they had been in on it too. “Now, will one of the prefects please tell me what this is all about?”
Ron simply looked baffled, as he really had no idea. Hermione swallowed nervously as she and Ernie and Hannah all shared a look, none of them quite sure what to say. Harry glared at Smith, still furious that Smith had called Hermione a bitch, but Harry remained silent.
“Smith called Hermione a bitch,” Hannah finally said, as neither Hermione or Ernie seemed particularly keen to get anyone in trouble. “Hermione wasn’t yelling though - she didn’t say anything. That’s when I got cross...”
“No, don’t take the blame, Hannah,” Susan interjected as McGonagall’s lips pursed and eyes narrowed at Smith. “I was the one who was yelling at Zach...”
“And I was shouting too,” Ernie admitted. “Hermione had no part in the argument. My humblest apologies Professor!” he carried on in his usual slightly pompous manner. “I suppose Susan and I could have handled Zacharias’s impertinence better...”
“Yes, you certainly could have,” McGonagall agreed, her eyes still fixed on Smith. “But I can certainly understand why you felt the need to defend Miss Granger. Now, Mr Smith, perhaps you’d like to tell me why you decided to insult a prefect?”
“I didn’t even see her,” Smith muttered sulkily, peering at the floor. “Didn’t know she was behind me.”
“Excuse me?” McGonagall arched one eyebrow. “That’s not an answer to my question, Smith.”
Smith scowled and shuffled his feet.
“Well, if you can’t answer the question, Smith, I must assume that you had no cause but sheer malice, especially given your recent outburst on the quidditch pitch which sent Mr Potter to the hospital wing. Perhaps detention...”
“No!” said Hermione, much to Harry’s and Zacharias Smith’s surprise. Harry still felt like pounding Smith’s face in, and Hermione was the last person Smith had expected to stick up for him.
“He doesn’t trust me, because of what happened to Marietta last year...” Hermione continued.
“More like because he’s a nasty little coward...” Harry hotly interjected, unable to help himself. “Why are you sticking up for Smith after he laughed about you getting raped by McLaggen and said you were begging for it, Hermione?”
“Well, I never!” gasped McGonagall, eyeing Zacharias Smith with revulsion.
“Because he’s not the only one who doesn’t trust us after that article, Harry,” Hermione retorted. “Loads of people aren’t sure whether they can trust us and Dumbledore. And Marietta probably felt the same way last year, not sure that it was right to believe us and side with us against the Ministry.
“When she got those pimples after turning us in to Umbridge because I’d hexed the sign up list, Smith probably reckoned he couldn’t trust us either. I didn’t mean for those pimples to have such long lasting effects - I should have been more careful with my spell-work...”
“Be that as it may,” McGonagall interrupted, giving Smith an icy glare, “Minister Umbridge’s corruption both then and now certainly justified taking extraordinary measures to protect yourselves from her, Miss Granger!
“Umbridge’s torturous - and I daresay illegal - disciplinary methods did not go entirely unnoticed by the headmaster and myself, though any complaints on our part to Fudge regarding the matter would have certainly fallen on deaf ears - especially given Lucius Malfoy’s backing of their takeover of Hogwarts.
“Mr Smith’s behaviour though, if true, is reprehensible and disgusting. I can think of no justification for laughing at your misfortune at McLaggen’s hands and insinuating that you had it coming. Is this true, Smith?”
Zacharias Smith hesitated, then nodded sullenly.
“Then as much as it pains me to admit it, I would say I have to concur more with Mr Potter’s assessment of your appalling conduct,” said McGonagall, “though I perhaps might have worded it a bit differently. It seems to me that a few detentions are entirely warranted, not for the mere hurling of a random insult, but your apparent ongoing attitude problem.
“I will be speaking with Professor Sprout about this, and perhaps she can impress upon you why it is considered ill-mannered to have a laugh about the sexual assault of a fellow student. ... In any case, we are all quite late for class now, and I suggest we get on with things. Report to me at the end of the day, Mr Smith...”
Now that it was over, everyone made their way to their respective classes. Harry would have rather hexed Smith, or given him a good thumping, but he felt a degree of satisfaction that Smith would finally be facing some sort of consequences.
“McGonagall, she doesn’t mess around, does she?” said Dora, who looked quite gratified herself. “I’d almost forgotten what a tough old bird she was. ... And try not to feel so bad about that Edgecombe girl, Hermione. Nobody blames you - nobody who matters anyway.”
Hermione bit her lip and nodded, trying her best to put it behind her and finding it much easier now that Professor McGonagall had agreed with Harry about Smith, and vindicated her actions regarding the hexing of the Dumbledore’s Army sign-up list.

~o0o~
At the end of the long day enduring whispers and looks, following dinner, Harry, Hermione, and Dora headed back to their quarters, hoping that tomorrow would be a bit easier. The scrutiny that Harry and Dumbledore were facing was hardly new, after all.
“Hello Tonks! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
Dora whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice, her eyes widening. For a moment she was frozen, not quite sure she believed what she was seeing. Harry and Hermione both grinned when they saw who it was.
“Professor Lupin!” Hermione squeaked.
“Hi Remus!” The relief in Harry’s voice at seeing Lupin alive and well was all too obvious. “Good t’see you again.”
“Glad to see you both looking so well too,” said Lupin, his moustache twitching.
“Remus! It’s really you! You’re here,” Dora beamed, her hair flourescing several shades of pink brighter. Then she glanced around worriedly. “You sure it’s safe, you bein’ in the castle?”
“Perfectly... as long as Dumbledore is still in charge,” Lupin added ruefully. “And fortunately the other Aurors currently stationed here are all approved by Kingsley.”
“That’s a good point,” Dora agreed.
“How’s your mission going? Is it over yet?” Harry hopefully asked.
“It’s going...” sighed Lupin. “Unfortunately, no, it’s not over. But I was here to meet Dumbledore and give him a full update - he suggested I take a night off while I had a chance.”
“That’s brilliant!” said Dora, “Maybe we could all go hang out somewhere private for a bit - have a couple of drinks...”
“You can join us in our quarters, if you’d like,” Harry offered.
“That sounds like a splendid plan!” said Lupin. “By all means, lead the way.”
Soon they were all sitting comfortably in Harry and Hermione’s living room drinking butterbeers, bathed in the orange glow of the flames crackling in the hearth. Clearly pleased to see Lupin again, Crookshanks curled up on his lap and purred while Hedwig gave a gentle hoot from her perch atop an oak cupboard.
They chatted for a while about things, some innocuous, some not, carefully avoiding talk about goings-on at the Ministry for as long as possible. Harry and Hermione caught Lupin up on events in their own lives; he was pleased to hear that Hermione had been able to move on from her horrible experience with McLaggen - which he had learned of while spending Christmas with the Weasleys - and happy that relations between Harry, Hermione, and Ron were more or less back to normal.
“...and I heard that you two had been moved in together for your safety, but are the rumours true then, that you and Harry are an official item now?” Lupin asked, his eyebrows raised. “Or is it just more of Skeeter’s skewed reporting?”
“No, it’s really true,” Hermone beamed, taking Harry’s hand. “We’re really together now. Though we’re not actually engaged...”
“...yet!” Harry added pointedly, grinning. Hermione bit her lip and blushed.
“And I won ten quid off Mad Eye,” Dora chortled. “I always knew these two were destined.”
“Indeed!” Lupin smiled wryly, lifting his butterbeer as if to toast Harry and Hermione. “I must say, Sirius and I both saw it coming eventually too...”
Lupin paused, not certain if he should mention how many times Sirius had suggested that Harry would eventually choose the brainy muggleborn witch as his partner, like James had.
“Anyway, I couldn’t be happier for you both,” said Lupin instead. “It’s a shame that it couldn’t happen under brighter circumstances, but such is life,” he sighed. “We have to take the good wherever we can find it in such dark times.”
“Er... so, speaking of which, what’s up with the werewolves?” asked Harry, now that more serious topics were on the table.
“Unfortunately, far too many are joining up with Voldemort.” Lupin sighed again, and shook his head sadly. “Fenrir Greyback - the werewolf who bit me when I was a child - is managing to convince them that under Voldemort’s rule they will have a better life...”
“Fenrir Greyback?” gasped Hermione, her eyes widening as she glanced meaningfully at Harry.
“Er... should I know who Greyback is?” asked Harry, recognising Hermione’s look.
“Yes Harry! Don’t you remember? ...in Borgin and Burke’s? Draco Malfoy threatened Borgin with him - he said that Greyback was a family friend.”
“Oh, that’s right! I’d forgotten.”
“In retrospect, if I’d known who Greyback was then, I might have been more inclined to believe you that Draco was a Death Eater...” Hermione sighed.
“Quite so,” Lupin agreed ruefully. “Greyback is a particularly nasty werewolf - one of the worst - he specifically targets children, placing himself in their vicinity during the full moon. And he has long been an associate of Voldemort, so it’s of little surprise that he would be close to the Malfoys.
“When Mad Eye told Arthur that Dumbledore would be expelling Draco Malfoy after the Christmas Holidays, Arthur was quite regretful that he had been so dismissive of Harry’s concerns. Still, at least we’re all on the same page now.”
Lupin’s eye suddenly caught the clock on the mantle above the fireplace and stood up, draining his last bottle of butterbeer. “Well, it’s getting late - I have to leave early tomorrow morning and return to the pack before anyone gets suspicious.”
“I wish you could stay,” said Harry glumly. “I hate the idea of you being out there all alone.”
“As long as I keep my head down, I’ll be alright, Harry. You and Hermione look after each other, and I’m sure I’ll see you again before you know it. And I feel better knowing that Tonks will be keeping her eye on you both, too.”
“Yeah, she will.” Harry forced his features into a smile. “Bye for now then.”
“Good night, Professor Lupin,” Hermione waved, smiling sadly as Lupin opened the door to leave.
“I’ll see you out, Remus. I should be gettin’ some sleep too,” said Dora. “Okay, ’night you two,” she said to Harry and Hermione. Once in the corridor, Harry and Hermione’s door shut behind them, Dora gently tugged Lupin’s sleeve.
“Oi, where’re you sleepin’ tonight?”
“The shack, of course.” Lupin eyed Dora warily, raising his eyebrows. “It’s the safest place for me, Tonks.”
“Look, enough with the ‘Tonks’ nonsense,” said Dora, exasperated. “You know you mean too much to me for that...”
“Which is why I have to stay in the shack,” Lupin shot back. “I know how much you care for me, but it just can’t be...”
“Look - I get it!” Dora interjected forcefully. “I know you think you’re too old and too dangerous for me. And I know you’re afraid of gettin’ too close to me in case you get killed on one of your missions for the Order, and... and fine!
“If that’s the way it’s gotta be, then that’s the way it’s gotta be. I’ve made my peace with that, Remus! But what you said to Harry and Hermione about takin’ the good where you can find it - making the best out of silver linings - can’t you.... can’t you at least take a moment o’ good with me?”
Remus sighed at Dora’s pleading expression.
“Look,” Dora went on, “I know that somewhere inside you have some feelings for me. I wouldn’t be pressing you otherwise. ... Just spend the night with me! No strings attached! ... I promise! If I can’t share my whole life with you, I’d at least like to share a few moments of it with you! You deserve at least a bit of happiness in your life... let me give it to you.”
Remus rubbed at his forehead indecisively, sighing yet again. “Just tonight? Then you promise me you’ll move on? ...find yourself someone more suitable for a long term relationship?”
Seeing Lupin waver, Dora’s heart began to race, thudding against the wall of her chest. She couldn’t believe she’d finally got through to him.
“Yeah, I will! I promise, Remus! ... Like I said, no strings! Just stay with me tonight.”
“Alright then...” Lupin nodded, relenting, his crow’s feet crinkling in a smile, “You win, Dora.”

~o0o~
Hermione snuggled closer to Harry as they lay in bed, winding her arms around him and planting a little kiss on his lips, her heart pounding. Laying her head on his shoulder, Hermione bit her lip, almost afraid to ask him. Maybe Harry had just been joking. The thought made her stomach hurt; she didn’t think she could bear the pain of it if Harry had been joking.
But if she didn’t ask, she couldn’t know for certain. For several minutes Hermione dithered in silence, not knowing what to do.
“You alright, Hermione?”
“What?” she squeaked, startled.
“You seem tense,” said Harry, his voice full of concern. “And I think you’re starting to hyperventilate.”
“Oh... er... erm... I’m fine, really.”
Harry turned his head, lifting his eyebrows skeptically. Bother it, thought Hermione, knowing that Harry wouldn’t let it go. There was nothing for it; she’d have to ask him now. Hermione took a deep breath to steel herself, and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Okay, I’m not alright! Harry, I... I have to know - what did you mean when you said, ‘yet’?”
It took Harry a moment to figure out what Hermione was asking, then it clicked suddenly in his frontal lobes. But now he wasn’t sure what the right answer was. Maybe Hermione would think he was being stupid, that they were both too young. Even worse, what if she really wasn’t sure that she loved him enough for that. Maybe that was why she was freaking out.
Harry almost wished she would open her eyes so that he could have a peek inside her brain, but he knew he could never really bring himself to legilimens Hermione without her consent. Well, there was nothing for it really, he’d just have to chance telling her, he supposed.
“Oh! Er... erm... Sorry, Hermione! It just sort of slipped out, but it wasn’t really a joke. I’ve been thinking about it ever since Skeeter’s stupid article this morning. Although, I suppose, in a way... she’s probably always been more right about that sort of thing than I thought - I know we’re both too young and still in school - and I haven’t had a chance to buy a ring to do it properly - I meant to think about it a bit first really, and work out the best time - and... and it would probably be better not to think about it until after we finish Voldemort anyway,” Harry anxiously babbled, “but... but, yeah... I was thinking of asking you to marry me eventually... one day, if... if you’d have me.”
Hermione bolted upright in bed, now feeling like she really might hyperventilate, her heart doing little flips as she peered into Harry’s earnest green eyes.
“You... you really mean it?”
“Yeah! Er... We don’t have to do it now, if you’re not ready for it, but I love you Hermione! I can’t imagine being with anyone else but you... ever!”
“Yes, Harry!” Hermione squealed, peppering his face with little kisses. “Of course I’ll marry you! I love you too!”
Harry grinned, the future suddenly seeming much brighter.

~o0o~
Remus sighed contentedly when he woke early the next morning, a girl with pink spiky hair slumbering with her arm across his bare chest and her head on his shoulder. It was a contentment he knew couldn’t last - the potentiality for lasting joy had died with Sirius - but it was a rare moment of happiness nonetheless.
He felt more grateful than she would ever know for the one brief, shining moment of exultation she had given him. It was something he knew he would never forget - something he would treasure as long as he lived.
“Mmm...” she murmured, stirring as Remus climbed out of bed and began dressing, “Too early...”
“I know. I’m sorry, Dora...” Remus’s voice crumbled as he looked at Dora while he finished pulling on his clothes.
He wondered if he had done the right thing, giving in to her... no... giving in to his own need for that moment of human contact - that moment of love. It would be that much harder to maintain his distance the next time he saw Dora, but he couldn’t bear to regret it. There was an instant in which Remus felt something else he hadn’t felt in ages - hope - a mad hope that he would survive the second war.
Maybe, just maybe, it was possible that the war would end with Voldemort finally dead, and Remus still alive. Maybe, just maybe, it was possible that he could find it in himself under those circumstances to take another chance on love - to take it with Dora.
But unless that unlikely scenario took place, Remus knew better than to hope for such an eventuality. For the time-being, keeping that moment of love he had shared last night with Dora alive would have to be enough. He leaned over the bed and kissed her on the forehead, then took out his wand and reached for an empty vial in his robes.
“I almost forgot,” he said, pressing the wand-tip to his forehead and drawing out several strands of a silvery mist-like substance. Remus dropped the strands into the vial and stoppered it, placing it on Dora’s nightstand. “For Harry, just as you asked, Dora. I hope it helps him find what he’s looking for.”
“It should do,” said Dora, smiling radiantly. She sat up on the bed, the covers sliding from her form as she drew Remus closer for a proper kiss goodbye. “I hope you find what you need one day too, Remus. Just do your best to stay safe out there.”

~o0o~
The rays of morning sunlight left dappled spots on the peeling yellow wallpaper as they pierced the years of grime coating the windowpanes. The sound of clattering pans and dishes filled the tiny kitchen as the slovenly rodent-like man bustled about obsequiously making breakfast.
It was more than apparent that the man was buttering more than toast, no doubt hoping for more time away from Snape.
“Going out two days in a row? What are you up to, Wormtail?” Snape narrowed his glittering dark eyes at Wormtail as the furtive looking wizard set a plate of perfectly poached eggs on toast and sausages on the table.
“N...nothing,” Wormtail stammered, avoiding meeting Snape’s eyes with his own.
“I could just use my wand and legilimens you,” Snape hissed contemptuously. “Give me one good reason why I should not.”
Wormtail tried quickly to think of a response, not wanting to give Snape a chance to steal the credit if his search was successful.
“Because... because the Dark Lord - he would be most displeased with us both if I fail this task. It is a minor task, spying where only I can spy as a rat, I assure you, Severus.”
“Strange that the Dark Lord has not informed me of this alleged... task, Wormtail,” Snape sneered. “More likely you are feeling a need to sow your wild oats, having been cooped up here for so long. I am of half a mind to make an inquiry regarding said task...”
“NO!” burst out Wormtail, his voice quavering with panic. “No! Okay, I was lying. ... You were right. It... it’s bloody boring being stuck here day in and day out, and... and yes, I could do with a bit of tail.”
Snape peered at the shifty wizard again, still not quite able to catch his gaze. But at least the story seemed more credible.
“Very well!” said Snape coldly. “I am as tired of your continual presence as you are of mine. I see no reason why we need endure each others’ company twenty four hours a day. Just be back by sundown, and don’t get caught.”
“Yes! Yes of course! Thank you Severus! Thank you!”
Wormtail scurried out of the kitchen, breathing a sigh of relief. He hoped the second day of searching would be more fruitful than the first. Yesterday he had discovered, much to his dismay, that the entrance hidden behind the one-eyed witch had been blocked. But Wormtail was nearly certain that if he kept searching the tunnel to the castle leading from Honeyduke’s, he would eventually find some hidden branching passages leading to more secret entrances.
AN:
@ Meltyman: Thank you! Lol! :D ...Yeah, the first few chapters are a bit gut-wrenching. I was pretty wrecked while I was writing them.
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Damaged Bridges