Harry Potter and the Junior Year Abroad
Wizard's Oath
By Ishtar
Chapter Ten
Wizards' Oath
Harry and Ron did a little dance of liberation around the living room, ending when Harry tripped over a hassock which didn't manage to move out of the way in time, and wound up falling into the sofa. Hermione and Ginny came down the stairs just in time to see his graceful plunge into the upholstery, and laughed. Harry looked at Hermione upside down. "We're celebrating! No more Muggles! Hey! You're upside down!"
"Harry, honestly!" Harry realized that Hermione was not wearing the same clothes she had been earlier. Instead of jeans and a t-shirt, she was now wearing a striped beach robe that came to just above her knees, and thong sandals to match. She carried a beach bag. Ginny had also changed, and now had a pair of shorts and what looked like one of Ron's shirts on. "Ginny and I are going to go down to the pond and catch what's left of the afternoon sun. You and Ron might want to join us … you're both a little bit whiff right now, you know? All that digging … See you soon!" And she and Ginny bounced out the door.
"Are we really?" asked Ron, sniffing at his shirt.
"You are," said his mother, from the kitchen. "Pond or shower, take your pick."
"Pond it is, then!" said Harry. "Much better scenery!" Mrs. Weasley smiled knowingly as the two boys galloped up the stairs to get changed.
Five minutes later, Harry and Ron were back downstairs, Harry in swim trunks and Ron in an old pair of shorts, both bare-chested with towels and t-shirts thrown over their shoulders. Whooping with glee, they ran bare-footed down the path to the pond.
The girls had gotten enough of a head start that they had their ambush set up by the time Harry and Ron got there. They had spread out their blankets on the grass by the edge of the pond, and Hermione was just slipping out of her robe as the boys pelted down the path. "There you are! We were wondering what was taking you so long!"
"Took a sec to impervius my gl… oh my God it's that bathing suit!"
Hermione looked down at herself. "What, you don't like it?"
"No, no, it's just that I, um, was not expecting, um …"
"I loaned my other one to Ginny. It fits her just right, too, see?" Ginny pulled off Ron's shirt to reveal the top of an extremely skimpy pink bikini. And rather a lot of herself.
Harry felt his body respond, and his trunks would hide nothing; he dropped his towel and ran for his life, straight into the pond.
"Ron, would you mind putting some tanning lotion on my back?" asked Hermione.
Ron broke for the pond as well, and launched himself in a flat dive.
"I take it that's a no," said Ginny.
The pond was large enough to be able to do a fairly decent lap, but shallow, so that it was only chest-deep on Harry at the centre, where he had taken refuge. Harry looked back, in time to see Ginny slip out of the shorts. The bottom of the bikini matched the top in skimpiness. He groaned. Ron surfaced next to him, having swum underwater for as long as he could.
"Is she trying to kill me?" asked Ron in an aggrieved tone.
"Which one?"
Ron gave him a look.
"Sorry. I think so. She got me as a side casualty. It may be days before I can get out of the water without embarrassing myself."
"Maybe she intended to get you and I'm the side casualty."
"I doubt it. It's not me she's interested in."
"Hey, I saw the picture she sent you … the one you stuck in your trunk lid. Same bathing suit. Incredible smile. Not much else."
"That was because I wrote her that I hoped she was healing up well. So she showed me exactly how well."
Ron looked at him. "You cannot possibly be that thick."
"Well, neither can you! Remember the picture she sent you? On that miniscooter in Rome, the miniskirt, all that leg?" This picture was in the lid of Ron's trunk, and he had showed Harry after Harry showed him the bathing suit picture. "And then there's all that snarking in the Common Room. She's just trying to get your attention."
"She's got my attention now, all right." He looked back toward the shore. "That bathing suit is indecent, it is." Harry was reminded of the more conservative styles worn by most witches and wizards, and realized that Ron was probably not used to seeing so much female skin. He certainly wasn't going to miss the opportunity, judging from the rapt expression on his face. "Now she's got Ginny doing the lotion thing… Oh boy." There was a battered old floating platform in the center of the pond, and Ron swam over to it and hoisted himself up on it. Harry joined him, holding onto the edge of the platform and letting his body float. "I just realized I have another problem."
"Oh?"
"Ginny. Take a look at her."
"I've been …"
"I just realized how curvy she is now. It doesn't show under school robes. No wonder Corner was interested last year. And Dean. I'm going to have to start following her around with a Quidditch bat to keep the guys off her."
"You may as well start with me, then."
"What?"
"If you're going to be bashing people for noticing your sister's a girl, you should start with me. I'll even give you one free shot. Make it a good one. You wouldn't believe the things that have been going through my head since she took that shirt off."
"Oh. Well, it's okay if you're interested. It's just other guys I'm concerned about."
"I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted."
"Well, I trust you."
"Definitely insulted."
"No, I'm serious. If I walked in on the two of you, umm, you know, I'd know at least she wasn't being forced … you care about her."
"Anyone that tries to force your sister is asking to be hurt."
"True. She'd hex them into the middle of next month, at least."
Harry hoisted himself out of the water onto the platform, still looking at the sunbathing girls. Hermione was face up, one knee drawn up gracefully, and her white bathing suit was set off nicely by her summer tan. Ginny was getting the sun on her back. Harry wasn't sure which vision was more appealing. "But seeing, and … and wanting … that's a lot different than what she deserves. What either of them deserves. What I want … I don't even know what it is that I want. I don't know who it is that I want. I don't know if my … wanting … would be returned. And even if I did know … I couldn't do anything about it. Not now."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, just in the short run, I'll be leaving in a few weeks. I'll be gone a long time. Lots of things can change in that long. I don't want to start something when I'll be gone so long. And in the long run … you know what I told you yesterday. About the Prophecy. I don't dare start anything that might hurt somebody when … if …"
"Will you stop that? You don't know for sure it's going to end that way."
"Don't I? How can it end any other way? And is it right for me to even think about getting involved with someone even if it only might end that way? It's not fair to whoever it is."
"Ginny knows how it is already."
"And so does Hermione, and so do you, but it still wouldn't be right for me to start something with anybody, even if they do know. On the one hand, I don't want to hurt someone if I don't make it through. I don't want to risk causing somebody else the kind of pain I've felt. On the other, I already feel bad enough that you're all in danger because of me — imagine how bad I'd feel if someone was a target and got hurt just because we were in a relationship? And what if I did love someone, and lost them? I've already lost so much. No, even if somebody was willing to take the risk, I'm not. It just doesn't make sense to go opening myself up to losing someone else. Not for me, not for now. It'll have to wait for later. If there is a later."
"So what are you going to do for now?"
"For now, I'm going to enjoy the scenery and have what fun I can — like pushing you into the pond!" He suited action to words, and much splashing and laughter ensued.
The girls watched the horseplay from the safety of the shore. The boys had not been keeping their voices down, and sound carries very well over water, so they had heard enough of the conversation to be worried. Very worried.
"That," Hermione said, "is not good."
"Not good at all," agreed Ginny.
"Let's see if we can talk to Ron privately later. In the meantime, I think it's time to, um, discommode them a little more."
"With or without our tops?"
"Oh, with. We're only trying to tease them right now. We really don't want to start something we're not ready to finish."
Both girls waded out into the water and slipped beneath the surface with the grace of mermaids, unseen by the splashing boys. They both came shooting up like porpoises in the middle of the 'Tidal Wave' game that was going on, and joined in the watery mayhem.
Some time later, Harry became aware that Hedwig was sitting on the pond float, attempting to stay as far away from the splashing water as possible. A few drops shone like diamonds on her white feathers, and she looked reproachfully at him, almost as if to say, What am I? A duck? She had a note in her beak, and delivered it carefully into his wet hand before winging back to the safety of the shore.
"Whassat?"
"Hm? Oh, your dad and the twins just got home. Your mum thinks I should go back up to the house and take them out to my tree. She wants the rest of you up some time before dinner." He splashed his way to the shore, towelled off, and followed Hedwig up the path.
Now it was the girls' turn to be transfixed. "Ooooo," said Ginny. "I wonder if he knows how good he looks when his trunks are all wet and clingy like that …"
Ron placed a hand on top of her head and ducked her. "Behave yourself, girl! You're still only fifteen!" he chided, laughingly, as she surfaced.
"So? You looked when you were fifteen!"
"That's different! I'm a guy! Guys are supposed to look."
"I don't see that that makes any difference." Harry made the last turn out of sight, and she sighed with disappointment.
Ron was looking, too, until Harry was gone. Then he heaved himself back up onto the float. "How much of that conversation did you girls hear?"
"Enough to be seriously worried," said Hermione. "He's developing almost a Superman thing … 'I love Lois but I can't tell her because my enemies could strike at me through her…'"
Ron and Ginny were puzzled. "Who's Superman?" asked Ron.
"Who's Lois?" said Ginny.
Hermione gaped at both of them. As friendly as she was with the Weasleys, times like this made it clear just how much of a disconnect there was between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. "You know … Superman? Up up and away, faster than a speeding bullet, all that? Comic books?"
"Never heard of that one. I've got a full collection of Martin Miggs, The Mad Muggle, though. Think I'd like this Superman thing?"
"You might. But I do not want to talk about Superman right now. I want to talk about Harry."
"He's depressed."
"He has a right to be. The question is, what do we do about it?"
"Can we do anything about it? There isn't much time before he goes away. And I think he was right there, starting something when there's only a few weeks would be pretty useless."
"How about some non-committed snogging? Just fun, you know? No promises made, none taken?"
"And just who would be the designated snogee?"
"I volunteer."
"I sort of thought you would, Gin. Mum is going to kill me. I just know it'd be all my fault, somehow."
"But what if he doesn't want me?"
"A, I doubt that, given the way he reacted when you took your shirt off," said Hermione. "B, there's two of us."
"But I thought … you and Ron …"
Ron turned scarlet.
"I wouldn't know," said Hermione. "Because your annoying git of a brother hasn't said anything yet!"
"Well of course I haven't said anything!" blurted out Ron. "I thought you fancied Harry! I never thought I had a chance with you!"
Ginny groaned. "You two should consider writing soap operas when you get out of school. Ron, you write all the male lines and Hermione, you write all the female ones."
"So does this mean I should take myself off the designated snogee list?" asked Hermione. "I remember how bent out of shape you were about Viktor. Are you likely to get the same way again?"
Ron considered it very carefully. "No. Viktor was different. And this is not about us anyway, this is about Harry. Hell, I'd put myself on the designated snogee list if I thought it would help." He caught the sideways glances both girls were giving him. "What? Look, I'm not … stop looking at me like that! I'm just saying there's very little I wouldn't do if he asked, okay? Not because I fancy him or anything, but because he's Harry."
"You love him too, don't you?" Hermione's voice was quiet.
"Of course I do," Ron replied miserably. "Not that way, but … well, if there ever was a guy I might feel that way about, it would be him. I've got no idea how he feels about it, of course. It's not the sort of thing one bloke can ask another."
"Mm. I can see that. Funny, I sort of thought it would be different in the Wizarding world than among the Muggles. But I guess people are the same in both worlds, aren't they?" mused Hermione.
"Okay," said Ginny breezily, totally ruining the introspective mood. "So we make a pact between the three of us. We do whatever it takes — whatever it takes — to make Harry feel better. Maybe all he really needs is to talk about things — he's had a really rough couple of months — but if it's more than that, that's OK, too. And hang the consequences! Done?"
"Done," said Hermione, grabbing Ginny's outstretched hand.
"And done," said Ron, putting his hand over both of theirs. A weird tingle shot from the clenched hands up all three of their forearms, and Hermione squealed and tried to pull her hand away.
"What was that?"
"Now we're in it for real. Wizard's Oath. I wasn't expecting that, but I guess we all felt intensely enough about it," said Ron.
The discussion moved from the float to the side of the pond to dry off, and Ginny towelled herself off in record time and trotted up the path to allow Ron and Hermione a little snog time — for practice, they said. But when she got up to the house, she ran into the kitchen and came up against that most feared opponent of the average teenager — an angry mother. "Ginevra Weasley! What were you three getting into down by the pond?! I could tell from here there was magic going off, and if I start getting Ministry owls about you three, I'm going to …"
"Mum, Mum! We weren't doing magic! None of us even had our wands with us."
"Well, something was going on! What were you doing?"
"We made a pact and it turned into a Wizard's Oath. We didn't mean to, but it happened, and that's how it is!"
"What sort of pact?" Mrs. Weasley felt concern overriding her suspicions.
"To help make Harry feel better. He's obviously happier now that he's living here, but there's still so much sadness … and he has those dreams … and he doesn't talk about stuff. So we agreed that we would try to make him happy. Whatever it took."
"Oh, Ginny. Haven't we told you about making sure these things are properly phrased? That's so broad, you have no idea how much trouble you could get into with it!"
"I have a pretty good idea," said Ginny, in a small voice.
"Did you at least put a time limit on it?"
"No."
"Oh good heavens. You've gotten yourselves … all three of you … in a permanent pact?" Mrs. Weasley sat down suddenly. Ginny nodded, looking at the floor. "Well, I suppose it could be worse. It's for a positive purpose. And I don't think he'll take advantage of it, but still … Ginny, promise me …unless it is absolutely necessary, don't tell Harry about this. I don't know how he'll take it, but my guess is it will make him extremely uncomfortable."
"We weren't going to tell him. We're not stupid, Mum."
"Some days it's hard to tell, Ginny. Now where are your brother and Hermione?"
"Having a little snog down by the pond, I think. Hermione finally got Ron to admit he liked her."
"But what if … with Harry … no, best just to let things sort themselves out. All right, you get changed, and then go outside and get the table set for thirteen, and when those two show up, I'll send them out to help you. If they're not back in five minutes, I'll send Pig down for them."
0o0o0o0o0o0
Harry had been vastly surprised when he returned to the house and found not only Mr. Weasley and the twins, as he expected, but also Bill and Charlie, and a Weasley uncle, aunt and cousin he'd never met before — Mr. Weasley's older brother, Marcus, and his family. Marcus had the bright red hair typical of the Weasley family, while his wife had the platinum hair and classic good looks Harry had come to associate with Malfoys. Her attitude was a lot better, though, and she greeted him warmly. The cousin was a strawberry-blonde boy who would probably be starting at Hogwarts next year, Harry guessed. Harry apologized for dripping all over the floor and made a dash for the stairs, coming down to greet them properly when he was fully dressed.
It was quite a parade that headed out to the meadow, and soon they were all standing around the little tree. Marcus put his hands on either side of the seedling for a moment, not quite touching it, and held them there for a moment. "Molly did a good job of setting the spell, Arthur. Especially considering she wasn't born a Weasley. Now let's get it locked in."
As before, one by one, each person present made a blood offering, even the young boy, who very solemnly allowed himself to be pricked and added his blood, pronouncing the spell extremely carefully. "It's his first time being allowed to do something like this," whispered Marcus to his brother. "He's being very grown-up about it, don't you think?" Harry noted that the Weasley men all carried their own knives, and wondered sort of vaguely if that was a Weasley clan thing or a general Wizarding thing that he hadn't noticed before now.
After the blooding, each person added something to the planting of the tree. The Weasley sons and their cousin Gerry hunted for stones and placed them in a little ring around the tree. Mr. Weasley had a bag of black soil he had brought with him. He moved the mulch aside, sprinkled the soil gently around the tree, and then replaced the mulch. Marcus and his wife had brought bottles of water with them which they said was from a magical spring near their home in Ireland, and watered the tree. Then there were hugs and kisses and slaps on the back all around, and they returned to the house, Harry feeling slightly flustered by the obvious affection he was held in.
He walked next to Mr. Weasley and asked him, quietly, "What was in that bag? It looked like regular dirt, but you were handling it like it was something special."
"It was, Harry. When Molly told me about the tree, I left the office early and went out … I went to where your parents are buried, and took some earth from their grave. That way they're still connected to you, and to your tree, and to our family."
"You went all the way to St. Mary's? And what did they say about your taking the earth?" Harry didn't think the very proper rector at St. Mary's, the church the Dursleys attended, would care for someone as improper as Arthur Weasley digging up soil from the graves.
"St. Mary's? Harry, your parents were buried in the Memorial Garden at Avalon, not in any Muggle churchyard."
"But … Aunt Petunia took me there at Easter to put flowers on the graves. She said it was a family duty."
"Well, she may have felt the need to make a show of it for the other Muggles. And someplace to take you if you asked questions. But if there's anything buried there at all, it's a pair of empty boxes. The Dursleys never had control of your parents' bodies, and you can be sure they were treated properly and with respect, according to Wizard custom, Harry." Mr. Weasley placed a hand comfortingly on Harry's shoulder. "I had no idea they'd done something like that."
After a few moments, Harry spoke again, quietly. "Mr. Weasley …"
"Dad, please."
"Dad, then. Would it be possible for you to take me there sometime? I'd like to visit if it's allowed."
"Of course it's allowed. We'll make the time for it before you leave, all right?"
"All right. Thank you." The rest of the walk passed in silence.
By the time they made it back to the house, the table had been set, and Ginny was looking daggers at Ron and Hermione because they hadn't gotten back until after she'd finished all the place settings, although the latter two were completely oblivious of it. It was obvious that something had happened after he left the pond, because Ron and Hermione were looking at each other and then looking away, stumbling through half-completed sentences, and generally acting like gits, the both of them. Fred and George rapidly twigged to the new situation, and spent dinner razzing Ron unmercifully. Harry found himself quite happy that this made Ron the centre of attention for a while, because he was thoroughly unnerved by the events of the day. The business with the tree had been quite unexpected, and he had just gone with the flow, the implications not hitting him until later. Then the interview with Agatha Stone, which had suddenly relieved the pressure of being under supervision by Muggles. Then the delightful ambush by two teenage girls in very skimpy bikinis, and the sudden realization that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. The revelation about his parents' graves. And the arrival of Weasley kin who were unknown to him, who were nonetheless willing to welcome him into the family. He wondered if they had been warned of the possible consequences of being related to the Boy-Who-Got-People-Around-Him-Killed. Did they know the risks they were submitting Gerry to? He had a sick feeling that the young boy would be showing up in his nightmares now. From the chatter of the Weasley family around him, he understood that more and more Weasley relatives would be arriving over the next few weeks, even after he had left for school, to assist in the tree spell. He didn't know there were so damn many Weasleys; they would be coming from all over the world. He didn't want this! He hadn't agreed to this! His stomach rebelled, and he flung himself away from the table with a muttered excuse and apology. He wasn't sure where he was going, just that he had to go somewhere. There were trees around him, and a path sloping downwards, and he thought he would wind up at the pond again, but the path was too long, and after a while he found himself down by the shores of the River Otter. The lights of the town of Ottery St. Catchpole across the river sparkled on the water, and thin clouds veiled the moon and stars. The path turned left to skirt the river, and Harry knew it ended at a sandy beach where the Weasleys kept a dilapidated rowboat tied up for the occasional fishing trip, but tonight he sat down on the bank where his legs could dangle above the lapping water. His fingers clawed into the soft earth of the bank and pried a stone loose. He flung it as far out into the river as he could. Then another. And another. He wanted to scream, but didn't dare; the sound would probably bring somebody to him, and company was the last thing he wanted.
But it seemed company would seek him out regardless. After some time in which he heard only the sounds of frogs and crickets, he heard the crunch of footsteps coming hesitantly down the path. "Harry? Harry, are you down here?" It was Hermione.
He sighed resignedly and replied. "Yeah, I'm here."
"Okay. I'll leave you alone, then." He heard the footsteps start back up the path.
"What, you're not here to get me to come back? To cajole me out of my bad mood?"
"No, actually, I just had a few too many Weasleys for comfort. Thought I'd find someplace to be alone for a bit until some of them go away. But since you got here first, I'll go somewhere else."
"No, it's okay. Come sit." She came down to the bank and sat down next to him. Her white t-shirt was a pale blur in the darkness; he could see no other details of her, and it was easy to pretend he was still alone. He had exhausted the supply of decent throwing rocks within arm's reach, and had now been reduced to throwing pebbles. After a moment, she felt around in the earth on the far side of her, and passed him a few rocks without comment.
Plish. Plish. Plop. Plish*ribbit!*splash. "Sorry about that, frog." Plish. "Too many Weasleys, huh?"
"Mm hm," Hermione answered. "I'm from a small family. Only child. I have a couple of cousins on either side, but we don't all get together often. We could never do thirteen for dinner. And they're all such a … boisterous … bunch."
"Boisterous, yeah. They're so … different … from the only family I ever knew. I don't know how to take it, sometimes."
"From what you've told us, your family wasn't exactly normal."
"Maybe not, but at least I always knew where I stood with them. I knew what to do, how to react. It wasn't nice, but at least it was consistent. Up until the last few weeks. Now I feel … I don't know what I feel. There are too many changes, all at once. Just today … I suppose it's all good things, right? So why do I just want to run away? Find myself a nice hole to crawl into, and then pull the hole in after me?"
"You just said it. It's all at once. You're not having enough time to adjust to one thing before the next one comes along."
"And that's not going to stop any time soon. With this stupid American thing I signed on for, I'm going to have an entire year of changes. All new classes, all new people, a whole new society … but how could I turn it down? It was Sirius' last gift to me."
"Do you really not want to go?"
"No, I suppose I do … but it's scary, you know? It'll be the first time I'll really be on my own. What if I screw it up? What if I can't learn something that's this secret weapon Dumbledore wants me to look for? What if … what if nobody likes me?" The last was said so quietly that Hermione could barely hear it.
She put her arm around his shoulder. "Harry, you'll be travelling with a bunch of Hogwarts kids and one of the teachers for chaperone. You won't be alone. And I'm sure the Americans will be nice. They probably picked the ones that will be travelling with you to make sure everyone will be comfortable."
"Listen to me, the big brave Gryffindor," muttered Harry. "Scared to leave home, just like a firstie."
"Do you think it will be easy for Ron and me to leave Hogwarts when we're done with seventh year? For Ron to leave the Burrow? For me to leave my parents and get my own place? A job? University? Whatever is out there? You're getting to that place a little before us, but it's something we all face eventually."
"A job? University?" Harry laughed bitterly. "I wish that was all I had to worry about. I'd be happy to face that. Income taxes! A mortgage! Soiled nappies! Those should be the worst any of us ever face." He threw another rock, viciously. "What have I got to look forward to, though? War. Death. Murder. You guys have a choice, you can leave. You can go do whatever you want. I don't have a choice. Everything I am, everything I do, everything I learn, is all shaped toward one thing. Killing Voldemort. And every time I screw up, every time I mess up a potion, or have trouble in Transfiguration, all that does is tell me I'm. Not. Good. Enough. I make too many mistakes. And any single mistake is likely to get people killed. Oh, no, not myself, mind you. Except maybe the last one, and that one doesn't count because I won't remember it. How do you think it feels to know that any mistake I make could be the one that kills you, or Ron, or … or …?" Harry drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, hooking his heels onto the edge of the riverbank. "And now there's all these other people getting into it … I thought Mrs. Weasley just meant the immediate family, I didn't know there'd be all these people … bringing their kids in to sign up for the privilege of being one of the folks I can kill! Think young Gerry up there knows what he just signed on for? I don't think they bothered to explain it to him! But I know. So I have to be perfect, don't I? I have to go find Dumbledore's damned secret weapon, and I have to learn all the Hogwarts stuff as well as whatever they'll teach in America, and I have to go through all of the stuff in those books Remus gave me and learn them by heart until I'm a killing machine, and I have to get everything note-perfect because the one thing I don't learn could be the one thing the fate of the Wizarding World depends on. And I CAN'T DO IT! I can't be perfect! Maybe you could, with your being the smartest witch in a hundred years. I wish I could be like you. You have no idea how much I've envied you, ploughing through book after book and finding the solutions you need, if you don't have the answer already. I can't do that. I've never been able to do that. I'm not good enough, it takes me too long, I don't remember." He turned his face up to the sky, and Hermione could see tear tracks reflecting the moonlight. "Do you know, there are nights … when I go out alone in the dark … and I think about just … calling to Voldemort … I could, you know, I can feel him and he can feel me … and letting him come and take me? Just so it would be over? But then … but then I think of you, and Ron, and hell, even Mrs. Figg's cats, and I think what life might be like with him running things, and I can't do it … I can't. But I'm afraid I can't save everything, either."
For once in her life, Hermione Granger had no answer. There was no pat solution, no fact that she could use to put everything back in order again. She pulled Harry closer to her, and held him, and soon he became aware that she was crying as he was crying.
"And now I've made you cry," he whispered hoarsely. "I never meant to make you cry. I want you to be happy. I want to see you and Ron be happy together. At least you two have a reasonable chance for it."
"We want you to be happy too, Harry. We want all of us to come through this in one piece. And you're not going to do that if you've already given up. We can help you with everything else … haven't we already been there with you before? You know we're not going to leave you now. Even if you want us to. We're too stubborn for that. Nothing in the Prophecy says you have to do it alone. You don't need to do it all alone. That's what friends are for."
Harry did not reply, but clutched her tightly. She could feel his muscles fighting each other, tense under his t-shirt, and it was a long time before he relaxed. The lights of Ottery St. Catchpole were going out across the river, and the moon was moving on. Silently Harry got up, and silently he helped her to her feet, and silently they returned to the house.