Chapter - 9 : Aftermath Part - 3

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Harry frowned as he thought it over. It wasn't exactly what he'd hoped for. Part of him, though he resisted admitting it, had been sort of hoping for a rundown of Riddle's talents and weaknesses, or a secret passed down from the founder's time, or another magical weapon, or something. But maybe that was what the hat was talking about, he realized. It was natural to want to take short cuts, but some goals didn't have them. And he was beginning to suspect that learning "Hufflepuff" traits was going to be one of those things that sounded far easier than it was.

The Hat chuckled. "Oh, that it is, Mr. Potter, that it is. Now, thank me for giving you Godric's sword and head to the hospital wing. You need to sleep."

"Oh, thank y- wait. Godric's sword? As in, Godric Gryffindor?"

"No, Godric Slytherin. Yes, Godric Gryffindor!"

He was stunned. Wow. Who would have guessed that was left in a hat's keeping? Albeit a somewhat bossy one. (He hastily censored that thought). Which reminded him of its order. "Well, thanks. I mean, I really do mean it. It saved my life."

"Yes, I know." The Hat's voice was smug. Harry went to lift it off his head when it spoke one last time. "Speak to me again if you wish."

"Yes, sir." He pulled it off, looking at it as it dangled in his grasp, but it was once again silent and unmoving.

He made the trip back to the hospital wing in contemplative quiet, climbing into the empty bed on the other side of Ron. He was asleep almost before his head touched the pillow.

When Madam Pomfrey bustled in minutes later, alerted once again by her alarms that a new student had arrived in the hospital wing, she almost missed him. Shaking her head in fond dismay, she quietly ran her diagnostics. Dumbledore came by later, as did Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Through it all, the students slept.

Hermione woke him.

"Harry," her voice was a low murmur. "Harry, are you awake?"

"Ugh," he answered, slitting one eyelid open and blinking against the light. His eyes still felt gritty, and he could easily go for another couple hours of sleep. He propped himself up on an elbow. "Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry." And there was her familiar tone of exasperation. "I'm sorry, I tried to wait as long as possible, but it's almost seven - which means Ron will be waking up soon - and I need to know what happened last night."

He shook his head, kicking his brain into gear and sitting all the way up. "Wait. First, what happened after Ron came to the Hospital wing last night? How is he doing?"

"Not good. I hadn't been awake very long myself when he and Professor Lockhart came in. Harry, he was absolutely white. It was like he was in shock – he just sat there, staring at his hands. He didn't talk or react or anything. Madam Pomfrey eventually gave him a sleeping potion, and I managed to get from her that Ginny died, but she wouldn't really tell me anything! God, Harry, I just sat by him, holding his hand, and I didn't know what to do."

She's almost in tears, he realized. Then also realized how difficult last night must have been on her. Her last memory would have been the reflection of a Basilisk's eyes, and she woke to a grieving friend. "Hermione…" He felt awkward, and utterly unsure of what to do. Should he touch her? Try to comfort her? Or pretend to ignore the tears? "Look. It's great that you're okay. Er, I'm sure your presence did mean a lot to him. So, um, don't- don't feel sad, all right?"

She gave a small, hiccupping laugh, and dashed the tears from her eyes. "Oh, never mind me, what happened? You faced the Basilisk, didn't you."

And that wasn't even phrased as a question, he reflected wryly. I think she knows me too well. But he nodded and told the highlights of the story again. He also briefly recounted the events in Dumbledore's office afterwards, ending with: "Now I'm not sure how to tell Ron about Lucius Malfoy. I couldn't give him much when I had to tell him Ginny was dead, but I could tell him that Riddle and the Basilisk are both dead. How do I tell him that the man behind it all is currently walking free?"

She stared at him, aghast. "You can't think to keep it from him."

"No! Dammit, that's not what I meant. He deserves to know, and I can just imagine how I would react if he kept that kind of secret from me. He'd be justified in kicking my ass. It's just- he's hurting right now, and he's dealing with a lot just grieving. I'm not sure how adding fury and helplessness and a desire for revenge will affect him." He sighed and buried his face in his hands. "And Merlin help us if Malfoy – Draco, I mean – makes one crack about his family in general, much less Ginny in particular."

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