The thin layer of froth floating atop Harry's simmering cauldron sparkled like ice, light and fine there as fresh snow, but beneath it was dark, dark as the ink that had spilt from Tom's diary and stained Ginny's fingers, dark as some great bottomless black lake lurking beneath ice as thin as whisper.
'Oh no, what have you done now?' Hermione groaned. 'It's supposed to be red , Harry.'
Ron peered across. 'That's definitely not red.'
'Quite right, Ronald,' Harry replied. 'Your firm grasp of the rainbow is impressive. Soon we'll move onto other colours, like green. And blue. Actually, maybe not green, green is at least mildly evil so we can't use it.'
Hermione eyed his cauldron. 'What did you put in there, Harry?'
'Scary things.' He grinned. 'We are making a Draught of Dread , so it should be scary.'
She picked up one of the jars. 'Frost gathered from beneath the winter solstice?'
'Yes.'
'How is frost scary?'
Harry deliberated explaining the one-eyed woman waiting in the snow but decided it probably wasn't worth risking another conversation about religious extremism and that he didn't really want to consider it himself anyway. 'I ran out of clown noses and red balloons.'
'What?' Ron asked.
'Never mind.' Hermione sighed, turning around the other jars and bottles one by one. 'Sunset glory flowers preserved in springwater?'
'Yes.' He picked the last of the crimson-tipped, orange blooms out of the jar and dropped it in. 'Sunsets can be scary if you think about it.'
The potion shivered and smoked, releasing fine, thin vapour like little wisps of shadow rising from the gleaming black liquid beneath.
'To be fair, Hermione,' Ron said, 'I would be pretty terrified to drink that. It looks almost as lethal as something Neville might have made.'
Harry clasped his hands in prayer. 'We should all be grateful that he didn't somehow end up doing NEWT level potions. Can you imagine what he'd brew instead of Felix Felicis?'
Ron shuddered. 'Was bad enough watching you do it, mate. Thought the whole lab was about to explode.'
'Actually, Ronald, how did you get into his class?' Harry asked. 'Don't you need an O or an E?'
'Got an E. Just.'
Hermione beamed. 'I helped him revise in the library while you were off doing shady, racist things with Greengrass, and he did really well. He got an Outstanding in Defence and an Exceeded Expectations in Potions, Charms, and… Divination.'
Ron turned slightly red. 'Lav helped me with the last one.'
'Good job, mate,' Harry said. 'Also, I should point out that none of the things I've done have been shady. Or racist. Well, maybe the occasional house elf joke? But I blame Her-My-Ow-Knee for those.'
'What?!'
'Yeah, it's entirely down to SPEW, it sounded so much like spam that I now associate house elf rights with spam and can't help but instinctively oppose them.'
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. 'I refuse to even reply to that.'
'See, Ronald, she has no justification for her unforgivable connections to spam and the horrible racist house elf humour she is therefore entirely responsible for.' Harry cackled at her glare. 'Now, what do you think this tastes like?'
Hermione confiscated his ladle and stuck its handle down the front of her blouse. 'Stick your hand anywhere near there, Harry, and just see what happens to it.'
He conceded defeat with a grin.
Ron squinted into the cauldron. 'Liquorice?'
'Would definitely fit with the inspires dread bit.' Harry stole Hermione's ladle from around her back with an innocent whistle. 'Nobody sane likes liquorice.'
'I do,' Hermione objected.
'Exactly.'
He tucked her ladle up his sleeve, hiding the scoop of it behind his hand. 'I'm not sure what it will taste like. For some reason, I think it ought to taste sweet. And cold.' He glanced across the room to where the red cardinal flower crowning Daphne's blonde hair drifted through the veil of steam and smoke. 'Like mint. Spearmint. Or strawberries when they're really chilly from the fridge and you've only just sliced them in half.'
'Well, you're not going to find out.' Hermione tapped a fingernail against the ladle down the front of her blouse. 'I've learnt you can't be trusted not to drink anything nearby.'
Harry watched her out of the corner of his eye as he slid her ladle out of his sleeve and dipped it into his potion. 'Quite right, Hermione. It's much too fun to see what happens and I can't make a wonderful genius-inspired potion and not see if it works.' He lifted the ladle to his lips and took a long sip.
It was cold upon his tongue, like little pins of ice piercing every part of his mouth, but had absolutely no flavour.
Harry swallowed. 'Huh, it really doesn't taste like anything.'
Hermione whirled around. 'What?!'
'Nothing.' He swallowed the rest and pressed her ladle into Ron's hands. 'Ronald, how could you enable me this way?'
Hermione snatched the ladle back. 'Professor!'
Slughorn trundled across. 'Miss Granger…?'
'Harry drank it,' she said. 'Again .'
'Oh dear,' Slughorn said, studying Harry's face. 'Although…'
Harry held up both hands. 'In my defence, I don't think it worked; I don't feel anything at all.'
The rest of the class stilled, gathering around.
'No sweating. No shaking. No pupil dilation.' Slughorn reached out a hand. 'If you don't mind, Harry?'
'I don't.'
He pressed the back of it against Harry's forehead. 'No elevated temperature or pulse.'
'Clearly your potion didn't work,' Hermione said. 'But then again you did put a load of things that really aren't very terrifying things into it. Like frost. And flowers.'
'I added them in such excellent and scary ways, too.' He sighed. 'And I stirred it to the theme tune of Jaws to make it extra potent.'
Hermione snorted. 'No wonder it didn't work.'
Daphne stepped past Susan Bones and Malfoy, cocking her head to the side like a curious crow. 'It does not work?'
'Apparently not,' Harry admitted. 'Which is very disappointing, Daph — I mean Greengrass. I assume you have only come over here to gloat at my failure because you are mildly evil and would otherwise completely avoid me.'
'Obviously.' The corner of her mouth twitched. 'I do not wish to associate with you, Potter.'
Hermione released a long sigh somewhere behind him. 'Just ridiculous,' she muttered. 'Both of them.'
Daphne's ice blue eyes flicked from the potion, to Harry, and back again. 'I want to try some.' She swiped the ladle from the front of Hermione's blouse and scooped up a small pool of ink-black potion.
Slughorn cleared his throat. 'Er, Miss Greengrass.'
She took a long deep breath. ' Yr gwyan, y Goanv,' she whispered as she raised the ladle.
Slughorn sputtered.
Daphne tilted her head back and drank, spilling that one wild lock of blonde hair back across her cheek, and dropped the ladle onto the desk with a loud clang.
Slughorn snapped his fingers at Malfoy. 'Get a bezoar from the stores.' He pointed at Susan. 'Go to my office. Go to the top right drawer of my desk. There is a small glass vial full of clear liquid. Bring it here. Run!'
The two of them bolted off.
'It doesn't work,' Harry said. 'I already drank it and I was fine.'
A little shiver swept through Daphne.
'You may have just been lucky,' Slughorn said. 'Drinking your own potion doesn't always have the same effect as someone else drinking it.'
'Oh.' He frowned. 'I actually didn't know that.'
'Stay,' Daphne whispered, blinking so fast her eyelids blurred. Her fingers shook as she balled them into fists; her breathing quickened, all the hairs rising along her arms and at the nape of her neck. 'Astoria, I am sorry…'
Malfoy scrambled back through the stalls, kicking them out of his way. 'Professor—' he thrust out the bezoar '—quick! Greengrass cannot die. Her sister is cursed. If Greengrass dies…' He caught Harry's eye and his lip curled a little. 'She cannot die.'
'It does seem to be working all of a sudden,' Harry admitted. 'Which is weird. It can't hurt her though. It's just scary; she'll get through it.'
'Out!' Slughorn yelled. 'Everyone out. And stay quiet so everything near her is calm. Someone get Professor Dumbledore. And someone get Madam Pomfrey. Where is that vial!?'
Daphne shrank to the floor, wrapping her arms about her legs and shuffling back into the corner. 'Watching,' she whispered. 'Watching and waiting. And watching and waiting. And watching and waiting and watching and waiting and watching and waiting.'
'Miss Greengrass.' Slughorn grabbed her chin and tried to pry open her mouth with both hands with absolutely no success as Daphne clenched her jaw shut. 'Miss Greengrass you need to eat this.'
The rest of the class backed away to the edge of the room.
'Out,' Ron said. 'Go on. You heard. Get out.'
Susan Bones burst out of Slughorn's office, sprinting across the room and smacking into the table. 'Professor.' She thrust a tiny clear vial out.
'Daph,' Harry said. 'Can you hear me?'
'Yes,' Daphne breathed, her pupils so wide that they blotted out all the cool blue of her eyes, like the moon eclipsing the face of the sun. 'It is you . I know it is you. Stay . You have to stay .'
'Give it to Harry if she's listening to him.' Slughorn released Daphne and dropped the bezoar. 'Make her drink it, Harry. Now. It's phoenix tears; no matter what your potion does, that will help.'
'Daph.' Harry snatched the vial from Susan. 'Can you drink this?'
'No.' She shook her head. 'They have to see. They have to see .'
He crouched down. 'See what?'
'The holly shall be crowned,' Daphne whispered. 'The holly shall be crowned. She is watching. She is watching. She is waiting. I can feel Her. Still watching. Still waiting—' she froze dead still, her pretty face twisted in dread '—I think… I think She is smiling .'
Harry twisted the stopper of the vial, poured the contents into his mouth and knelt, pressing his lips to Daphne's.
She fought for a moment, trembling against him like a leaf, then melted into his kiss with a soft sigh of relief.
He pushed the phoenix tears into her mouth with his tongue.
Daphne stilled.
'Daph?' Harry leant back, but found her iron grip clutching the front of his robes. 'Er… sorry?'
'No.' She took a deep breath and let it out. 'I am sorry. I thought, if it did not work for you, then maybe, for me…'
Slughorn vanished the contents of Harry's cauldron with a jab of his wand. 'I don't know why it didn't affect Mr Potter, likely something to do with it being his own potion, but I've not seen a Draught of Dread induce such a strong reaction before. Please go to the Hospital Wing immediately, Miss Greengrass. Mr Malfoy can take you. Or Mr Potter.'
Daphne stood up and brushed herself off. 'I do not wish to be accompanied by either of them.'
Malfoy exchanged an incredulous, wry glance with Harry. 'Really, Greengrass? You didn't seem to object to having his tongue in your mouth.'
'I was under the effect of the potion.' She turned her pretty nose up. 'If you speak about this to anyone, you will regret it. That means you too, Potter.'
Malfoy sneered. 'As if I care, Greengrass; I have so many more important things to do than think about who you want to stick their tongue in your mouth.'
'Understood.' Harry grinned at Daphne as she hooked that rogue lock of blonde hair back behind her ear and its swinging garnet fang. 'I really don't know why you thought drinking it was a good idea, to be honest.'
Daphne glanced away. 'You will see,' she murmured as she swept out.
'Mr Malfoy,' Slughorn said, 'please go and tell anyone outside that the class is over, then inform your head of house what has occurred and that Miss Greengrass should be kept an eye on for the remainder of the day in the Hospital Wing if possible. Thank you for your assistance.'
'Yes, professor.' Malfoy made toward the door.
'And Mr Malfoy…' Slughorn fiddled with silver buttons on his dark green waistcoat. 'It would be wise not to mention certain aspects of what happened to anyone else, for Miss Greengrass's own good. And yours. I'm sure you know what I mean.'
'Yes, sir.' Malfoy vanished.
'He was actually vaguely useful for once,' Harry remarked. 'Well, sort of.'
Slughorn stared at him. 'Do you not understand the gravity of what just happened? Miss Greengrass could have been done irreparable harm.'
'She'll be okay,' Harry replied. 'She's strong. Really strong, actually—' he laughed '—you'd be surprised.'
Hermione edged back in. 'Harry?'
'Not now, Miss Granger,' Slughorn said. 'Mr Potter and I need to talk.'
'We do?'
'Yes.' Slughorn inspected the bottles and jars and vials beside Harry's empty cauldron as Hermione retreated and closed the door after her. 'The Draught of Dread should inspire a sense of quiet ominous dread, not absolute gripping terror to the point of hallucinations.'
'I didn't feel anything.' Harry frowned. 'I seriously didn't. I'm not lying; I'm really bad at it and I keep getting told it's an inelegant way of concealing the truth.'
'I know.' Slughorn fiddled with the buttons of his waistcoat. 'You created a potion that was quite brilliant, Harry. Brilliant, but horrifying. You have your mother's gift and more, I can see that clearly, but…' He sighed. 'You are not to let anyone else drink what you brew if there are any possible harmful effects, is that understood?'
'Yes.'
'Please remind Miss Greengrass that there are some things she should not openly say.'
'Anything in Brythonic?'
'Yes, Harry. Now off you go.'
Harry lingered by his empty cauldron, standing up the scattered bottles. 'May I ask you a question?'
'About something dark?' Slughorn's pale green eyes swam with ghosts. 'I would very much like to say no, Harry, but it occurs to me that if I do, you might go and ask someone yet to make and learn from the mistakes that I have.'
'The Old Ways… do you believe in them?'
'Yes and no.' Slughorn collapsed back into his armchair. 'We all need something to believe in, Harry. But you mustn't believe blindly. The magical world has been facing tough times for much longer than you've been alive. Longer than I have.' He lowered his voice to a murmur. 'Pendragon and the ICW have caused great strife and grief in their power struggles, and there are other contributing factors besides. Many people wish to be saved from the misery they must endure. But sometimes, Harry, you have to realise that there just isn't some single amazing person who will come and save you; you just have to make the best of who you are and what you've got.'
'Sometimes people do get saved.'
'But not all the time and not from everything, as much as we might hope otherwise.' Slughorn studied his fingers. 'And I think even the very best and worst of us still hope for it deep down.'
'Do you?'
'Yes, Harry. And knowing what I've done, it makes me feel all the worse. How dare I hope to be saved after everything I've caused?' He stabbed his wand back into the pocket of his jacket. 'How dare I? And yet… I do.'
'But it's not real.' Harry waved a hand in the general direction of Briganti's grove upon the distant hillside. 'It's nice, but it's not real.'
'The rational, logical wizard in me would tell you that they are stories, Harry.' Slughorn picked up a piece of sugared mango from the box at his arm. 'Stories that were once used to explain what we saw. Now, the course of our development as a people has led us to understand more than we did then, and the mystery and magic of it all has faded. We have even come to use the very same stories that once inspired that magic and mystery to accrue power, control, hurt and incite hatred. I can only tell you what I believe and what I've seen, and I think we all need to have faith in something, but the place for that faith is the quiet privacy of one's own heart and who we each choose to share it with, not upon banners of war.'
'And the irrational wizard?' Harry asked.
'We all hope that the stories might come to life, don't we? No matter how old we get or how bitter and jaded our version of the story might become, we still hope.' Slughorn heaved himself out of his chair and trudged toward his office. 'I think I would like to be left to my thoughts, Harry. I hope you have the heart to do that.'
Harry watched him trundle up the short stairs and into his office. 'Well, back to the Common Room, I guess.' He strolled out, side-stepping Hermione. 'Were you dropping eaves?'
'What?' Ron poked his head from behind her. 'Was she what?'
Harry chuckled to himself. 'Listening in.'
'No.' Hermione wrung her hands. 'Harry, have you done anything since the start of last year that seemed strange?'
'Yes.' He held up his hand. 'I had loads of nightmares, loads of other dreams, was attacked by dementors, had a weird hearing in front of the entire Wizengamot—'
'No.' She shook her head. 'I mean, that made you feel different.'
'Well, sometimes when I kiss Daph…' Harry cackled as Hermione turned bright red. 'Why?' He ignored the thoughts of her and her burning golden eye. 'I'm fine. It wasn't me that was affected by the potion.'
'That's why I'm worried!' Hermione burst out. 'Greengrass had a full on panic attack seconds after drinking it, and you just stood there smiling and laughing! And she had a small sip, you probably drank a whole bloody ladle of it again, too!'
'Maybe it was different because I made it,' he replied. 'Like Slughorn said.'
'You've been off for a lot longer than that.'
'Harsh.' Harry grinned. 'I feel fine.'
Hermione shook her head. 'You're not fine. I'm taking you to Madam Pomfrey.'
'Not now you're not,' he replied. 'Daph said she didn't want me to accompany her, because she doesn't want everyone to know about us. If I go, then she'll be mad at me. And I don't want her to be upset with me.'
'Soon.'
'Sure.' Harry tiptoed away toward the stairs. 'I'm sure Madam Pomfrey's missed me, I haven't been maimed, grievously injured or almost killed in a whole year.'
Hermione gave chase. 'Harry, I'm being serious!'
'Nothing is wrong—' he thought of her waiting alone in the snow and laughter welled up like a string of silver bubbles from black waters '—at worst… all is but changed .'
She stewed beside Harry as he wandered back to Gryffindor Tower, meandering around gossiping gaggles of girls and a small gang of second year boys chasing a glowing parchment dragon.
Ron nudged him in the side as Hermione ducked through the passage. 'I think she's actually worried, mate. You are a bit… much sometimes, you know. Like, you're still you, but it's different; you're so not serious about it all the time.'
'Yeah…' Harry scratched the back of his head. 'She was on my back about it all summer as well, like I should be some weeping mess because of Sirius. He's not gone, just changed; nothing is lost.'
'I mean, your girlfriend just had a full on panic attack,' Ron said. 'Like, you don't seem ruffled about it at all, really. You didn't then, either.'
'I didn't think it had worked and then it only makes you scared for a bit. It doesn't do any long term harm; I know Daph, she's strong. She's dealt with way worse than just being scared. She'll be fine.'
'But what if she's not.'
Harry frowned. 'But she will be.'
'I think Hermione is a bit concerned you weren't worried.'
'She doesn't know what I know is all. If she did, she wouldn't be worried. There's no point worrying when it doesn't help, either.' He considered it for a long moment while Hermione stalked up the stairs into the Girls' dorm. 'And the alternative, which can't be true because it's just insane to contemplate, she'd like a lot less.' Harry laughed to himself. 'She'd absolutely hate it.' Some of his humour faded at the memory of her smile and Daphne's words. 'So would I.'
'Harry.' Katie Bell stepped out of a group of seventh year girls and dragged him aside before Ron could manage a reply. 'Are you sure we can't tempt you back into quidditch?'
'Yeah, I said, I'm too busy doing extremely important secret things…'
'I know,' she whispered. 'I came to warn you. Romilda Vane is going to offer you chocolate. Do not eat it; she stole amortentia from Potions with Slughorn this morning and spiked them with it. Lav overheard it and told me to warn you.'
Harry snorted. 'Romilda who? Vane? I'm sure that name isn't foreboding at all.'
'Romilda's a menace.' Katie swept her messy brown hair away from her eyes and fixed him with a serious stare. 'She's like a year younger than you and thinks she's the hottest, coolest thing ever. Picks catty little fights with all of us to try and score points with anyone stupid enough to listen to her.'
'Is she?' Harry scanned the Common Room and caught the dark eyes of a curvy, curly-haired girl with an open box of chocolates on her lap. 'Oh, wow, she's literally lying in wait right there.'
'She's not even that hot,' Katie said. 'I've seen her in the locker room; her bra is padded and there's more than a few charms on her face. If you want to go for a girl outside your year, you should go up, not down.' She winked at him. 'I'll go down for you instead.'
Harry laughed. 'Nice. Set yourself up well there.'
She giggled. 'Thanks. See you at the DA, Harry. We're all going to start coming this year now.'
'See you there, then.' He abandoned Ron and wandered over, waving at Romilda. 'Hi, can I help you, or are you just staring at the gigantic scar on my face?'
Romilda bounced to her feet. 'I wasn't staring.' She bounded forward and thrust out the box while her friends whispered and giggled to each other on the sofas by the fire. 'Here, have one, Harry. As a sorry for staring.'
Lavender shook her head at him across the room, making a big cross sign with her hands.
'Sure.' Harry swiped one. 'How bad can it be?' He tossed it up in the air and caught it in his mouth, chewing twice, wincing at the sickly sweet taste of over-sugary banana, and swallowing. 'Well, it wasn't liquorice, so it could be worse.'
Romilda stared at him. 'Was it… er… good? I haven't actually tried one yet.'
'A bit sweet for me. I like natural fruits more. Sharp ones, actually. Like redcurrants. They have—' he smiled to himself '—a bit more bite to them.'
'Try another one?' She wiggled the box. 'Maybe they're different? I think they are, they had a picture on the lid.'
The faintest tug of desire to make her happy came, less than the lightest pull of the breeze at his robes. 'You should have one.' Harry let her take his arm and lead him to sit on the sofa with her and her friends. 'Or share them with all your friends.'
Romilda closed the box, flushing pink. 'Oh, no, we just had lunch. I might have some later, though.'
'Ah, so you just opened them out of curiosity and happened to offer me one.' Harry returned the brief anxious glance she shot him with an easy grin. 'Makes perfect sense.'
'Yeah, it was all… er… all wrapped up, so I didn't know it was food.'
Lavender dragged Hermione down the stairs, pointing at Harry, Romilda, and the box, whispering in her ear.
'I wonder what that could be about,' Harry mused, hiding his smile behind his hand. 'Clearly something is going on. Have you got any idea what it could be, Romilda?'
'Probably just some drama,' Romilda said with a flip of her hair. 'I heard they both like the same boy, actually.'
'As long as it's not me.'
'You're out of their league,' Romilda replied. 'Right?'
Her friends nodded in rather creepy unison.
'I don't know about that, Hermione actually looks quite pretty when she wants to,' Harry said. 'Would be weird though, she's like a sister to me.' He spared Lav's legs a lingering look. 'Lav though… I could definitely be tempted if I didn't already have a girl in mind; I do seem to like a girl in a short skirt and long socks.'
'Oh?' Romilda leant forward. 'Which girl? Is she pretty?'
'She's breathtakingly pretty,' Harry whispered, leaning a couple of inches closer. 'She has gorgeous eyes, her hair is always perfect, and she's really sweet. She gives me really tasty things.'
Romilda's eyes dipped to his lips. 'Will you tell me her name, Harry. Pretty please?'
Harry grinned to himself. 'Don't you want to guess?'
The flush rose up her cheeks. 'I could guess.'
'Well, I've not known her for very long. She likes red…'
'So she's in Gryffindor.' Romilda licked her lips. 'Is she in this room?'
Harry leant in a little further, grinning from ear to ear as she closed her eyes and pursed her lips. 'And she's blonde.'
Romilda froze. 'But…'
He threw his head back and laughed. 'I can throw off the Imperius Curse, Vane; a few drops of amortentia in a chocolate isn't going to get me to doubt which girl I love.'
Romilda swallowed hard. 'Amortentia?' she squeaked. 'Isn't that… er… really hard to make?'
'Very.' Harry watched her friends shrink away. 'But not so hard to steal a couple of drops from a vial given out by a professor, right?' He held out his hand. 'Box.'
She surrendered it with wide eyes. 'Please don't—'
Harry pressed a finger to his lips. 'I'm never going to date you,' he said, 'you're not blonde or mildly evil enough. But don't try anything like this again and we'll just pretend it never happened.' He opened the box and picked a second chocolate. 'I think some of these are different, actually. This one looks darker and has stripes.'
Romilda stared, open-mouthed. 'You're going to eat more…? '
Hermione snatched it out of his hand and hurled it into the fire, grabbing the box and shoving it on top of the burning logs.
'I was eating those,' Harry objected. 'I only got one very average banana one and I can't tell if that was just the taste of the amortentia Katie warned me about or not.'
She narrowed her eyes, quivering with rage. 'Harry!'
Romilda fled, her friends on her heels.
'Hey,' he called. 'I was going to use you as a human shield. Come back, Romilda. I think the amortentia is working now. I love you; I swear. I just need you to prove your devotion by sacrificing yourself to stop Hermione killing me to be sure of it.'
'You ate them!' Hermione cried, her voice slicing through the chatter in the Common Room.
The entirety of Gryffindor House abandoned Harry, streaming out the passage or up into the dorms.
'Cowards,' Harry accused. 'If we stuck together we could totally defeat her, and only some of us would be cursed with dark magic or forced to wear tiny terribly crocheted house-elf sized knitwear and vaguely spam-associated SPEW badges.'
'I'm going to kill you!' Hermione wrung her hands. 'I genuinely really am. Are you insane!?'
'No.' Harry thought about it. 'Probably. I guess I wouldn't know if I was, would I? That's kind of the definition of insane.'
'Never ever ever do that again. What if it had worked!?'
'The amortentia?' He laughed. 'Nothing is going to stop me loving Daph, Hermione. She's just…amazing.'
Hermione let out a low growl and beat one of the cushions against her face. 'You are beyond help, Harry. That was just unbelievably reckless! It's amortentia not some cheap gimmick potion from Hogsmeade; you could have ruined your life .'
'Potions don't seem to affect me?' Harry tried.
'Don't you dare try and pretend you thought it through—' she scowled at him '—something is very wrong with you. You were always brave . But this isn't brave. You're brave when you're afraid and overcome it; it's like you just have no concept of danger anymore.'
Harry laughed. 'Maybe I got tired of being afraid and decided I didn't want to be anymore.'
'That doesn't even make sense.' Hermione chewed her lip. 'Come on. I'm going to research things in the library and you are not being left unsupervised again.'
'Yes, mother, ' Harry retorted. 'Did you know everyone tells me that I have your eyes? Certain individuals that should remain unnamed keep trying to make me date girls that look like you as well.'
She sighed. 'Please just stop talking before the urge to do you bodily harm overwhelms me.'
'See, it's always when I mention my Muggle-born mum that you get angry—'
She took a swipe at his head with her cushion, her brown eyes full of fire.
Harry cackled and beat a hasty retreat toward the relative safety of the library where, as he knew from experience, she would at least have to curse him quietly.