Chapter 39:

"Wingardium Leviosa," he whispered, gaze turned on the hefty book at his side. The humming grew more urgent. His veins itched.

Then, slowly, the book began to rise off the bed.

A slow grin tugged at Harry's lips suddenly, a door slammed, and the book fell back on the mattress. The connection was gone, the humming almost silent.

"Harry, are you back yet? Hermione's a nightmare, honestly." It was Ron. Harry scowled to himself; he'd been making progress there!

Hurriedly stuffing his book and notebook under his pillow, Harry dropped the wards around his bed and pulled the drapes back, offering the redhead a smile he hoped was sincere. "Couldn't make it to curfew?" he asked wryly, watching Ron's disgruntled frown deepen. The other boy opened his mouth to respond, when his eyes flicked to the Wireless.

"Owens is diving, but Griffiths is hot on his tail; who will reach the snitch first? They're neck and neck — if they keep going, they'll hit dirt! Griffiths is pulling level, and— Merlin's beard, what a catch! In a remarkable show of speed, Griffiths has caught the snitch! The Harpies remain undefeated for another day!"

"Since when do you have a Wireless?" Ron asked, an unreadable look on his face. Harry turned the volume down, shrugging.

"Bought it over the summer, when I was stuck in Diagon. I had no idea before that there was so much wizarding radio." The Weasleys had a Wireless, but they only seemed to turn it on when Mrs Weasley wanted to listen to Celestina Warbeck.

"They're expensive, those portable ones. Charlie bought one in his sixth year, but he took it with him to Romania."

The expression on Ron's face suddenly made sense; discomfort at Harry's wealth. Before, Harry might have let it bother him; might have offered to give his to Ron, and buy himself a new one later. Back when he'd been under Dumbledore's spells, and desperate to have friends by any means necessary. But things had changed. He could sympathise with Ron, of course — for most of his life, Harry hadn't had two pennies to rub together — but he wasn't going to let the other boy make him feel guilty for inheriting money when Harry's parents had died in order for that to happen.

He reached out, turning the Wireless off and offering Ron a half-smile. "Well, the Cannons match is next week, if you want to listen to it with me."

Ron grinned, only a hint of a shadow in his eyes. Harry ignored it; he could hardly keep up with Ron's mood swings this year, and it wasn't worth trying.

Letting the redhead grumble all about the work Hermione had forced him to do in the library, Harry couldn't stop his attention returning to the faint tingle still running through his veins.

He had done wandless magic. Intentional, focused wandless magic.

How much more could he do, with a little practice?

.-.-.-.

With the security in the castle amped up after Black's second break-in, the trio couldn't visit Hagrid in the evenings anymore. The only chance of getting to talk to him was during their Care of Magical Creatures class. Days later, and Hagrid still seemed to be in shock.

"There's always the appeal," Ron said, when it looked like Hagrid might burst into tears, walking the class back up to the castle. "Don't give up hope yet, Hagrid. We'll figure something out." They bid goodbye to Hagrid at the castle doors, and the large man blew his nose loudly, thanking them again for offering to help. It was clear he was expecting the worst.

"You'd think he could pull it together!" The voice made Harry's heart sink. Just inside the doors, Draco stood with Crabbe and Goyle, watching Hagrid leave. The two huge boys were sniggering. "It's not like it's his bloody dog or anything. It's just a beast." Behind the false sneer, Harry could see the regret in Draco's eyes. As if he could've done anything to stop Lucius Malfoy on a crusade.

"How dare you!" Hermione roared, stalking across the entrance hall towards Draco. His grey eyes widened in alarm at her ferocity, and Harry hurried after her. "You foul, evil little—"

SMACK!

Harry wasn't fast enough. Before he could do anything, Hermione had reeled back a fist and punched Draco square in the jaw. He fell back into Goyle, blinking dazedly. "Don't talk about Hagrid like that." With that, she turned on her heel and left. "Come on, boys. We'll be late for Charms."

Harry sent an apologetic glance back at Draco, who seemed utterly stunned, and hurried after Hermione, Ron hot on his tail. "Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "You just punched Malfoy!" "He deserved it," she declared firmly. "Harry, make sure you beat them at quidditch, won't you? I couldn't stand to see him win."

"Uh, yeah, Hermione," Harry said after a beat. He shared a look with Ron, both of them thinking did that really just happen?? "I'll try my best."

She huffed, continuing on the way to class. Harry eased the door open to the classroom, praying they weren't late, and Professor Flitwick smiled up at them. "There you are, boys! Settle down, now, take your seats."

Harry looked over his Hermione was nowhere

shoulder to be seen. Where had she gone?

"She was just behind us," Ron muttered, just as confused as Harry. "Maybe she dropped something?"

But Hermione didn't reappear. She was absent for the entire class. Harry frowned; what was going on with her?

.-.-.-.

Clearly Hermione was on a roll, Harry thought as he watched her storm out of the Divination classroom. When the class finished, he turned to Ron.

"She's having a bit of a day, isn't he?" the redhead remarked. "Blimey." Hermione wasn't at dinner, but the hall was abuzz with the story of her talking back to Professor Trelawney. Luckily, Draco didn't seem to have told anyone about her punching him, though there was a fairly impressive bruise rising on his pale cheekbone. Harry winced; would Draco be mad at him for it? They weren't supposed to meet for another few days. Harry would have to wait to ask if he was alright.

"I'm gonna take some food up to Hermione," Ron said once he'd eaten his fill, which as always was an impressive amount. He wrapped some roast beef and potatoes in a napkin, grabbing another one to fill with parsnips. "You coming?" "Can't. Patronus lesson with Lupin," Harry replied apologetically. He had the spell down pretty well, now — it hadn't taken shape yet, but he could get a fairly solid shield up against his boggart-dementor.

"Oh, right, yeah. Well, have fun." Ron grabbed as much food as he could in his large hands, and the two parted ways, Harry headed up the familiar route to Lupin's office. He dragged his feet a little, feeling a little awkward about seeing the man again after basically breaking down on him. Lupin didn't seem to hold it against him, though.

"I hear Miss Granger had quite the eventful afternoon," Lupin remarked once they'd put the boggart away for the evening, sat in their usual chairs with tea in their hands. Harry winced.

"You heard about Divination, then?" Lupin nodded. "I mean, I don't blame her, really. She's doing about fifty subjects at once, and Divination's a bit…" Harry trailed off sheepishly, not wanting to insult one professor in front of another. "I wish I could drop it, too. Is there any way to switch your elective subjects if you realise you don't like them?" Truthfully he'd love to drop Care of Magical Creatures, too, but he couldn't bear to do that to Hagrid.

"I'm afraid not. Not this late in the year, anyway. You'll have to stick it out until your OWLs, I'm afraid." Lupin sounded truly apologetic. Harry sighed.

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