The first thing Sirius saw when he walked out of the room was his godson standing in front of his mother's portrait. However, what made him frown in bewilderment was the fact that the banshee was not shouting like she was known to. Weird. Did his godson get her under control?
"Yes, Mrs. Black. I will be staying here for the holidays. I was supposed to arrive a few days later but certain... circumstances forced my hand."
"Oh, it's a privilege to host someone of your station, My Lord!"
Sirius gawked. Did he hear correctly? He could swear that his mother was gushing. Just what was happening?
"Harry?"
Two pairs of eyes turned as one toward where the voice came from, and it didn't take long for one pair to narrow in disgust.
"What do you want, you ungrateful brat?"
Sirius rolled his eyes at his mother's kind words but Harry didn't bother to hide his reaction.
"I seem to recall saying that a lady of your station ought to behave better, Mrs. Black."
One simple sentence was all it took for his mother to flinch as if struck and she quickly apologized.
"I beg your pardon, my lord, I-"
Whatever she was about to say was cut off as Harry raised his palm.
"I won't dare to presume whatever issues there are between your eldest son and yourself, but I'd ask you to treat him the way he deserves. Family and blood, after all, are two of the most important things we have, right?"
Walburga Black frantically nodded, and Harry simply muttered 'good' and walked away toward the stairs. Sirius simply followed slightly behind him.
"I've never seen someone school her in such a manner. Not even my grandfather could do it, and we were all scared shitless of the old geezer."
Harry laughed.
"All you need to do is tap the sensitive nerve, Sirius. Your mother is, pardon my bluntness, a total harpy who is obsessed with her vision of prestige and social status. Being confronted by her social superior on her conduct is the perfect way to make your point across."
Sirius chuckled.
"Since when are you the expert on human psychology?"
"You don't need to be some sort of expert to know people's motivations, Padfoot. Similarly, you just need to know what makes them tick. Once you know that, the same people you hesitated to confront will find it difficult to refute your point."
"Is that what you did to Molly back there?"
Harry frowned slightly.
"That was more of a truth mixed in. Don't get me wrong. I understand where she is coming from. She cares so much that she would shield all of us with her very body without caring for her wellbeing. But she needs to understand what the truth is. No matter how much she tries to keep us safe and hidden, it simply is not possible."
Sirius frowned.
"I wish it didn't have to be this way though," he muttered, casting a side-eyed glance at the boy who had seemingly grown so much in such a short period.
"Well... we don't always get what we want," Harry muttered before his steps faltered. Sirius saw him looking upward and followed his gaze before a grimace crossed his face.
"A tradition of the Blacks. All the house elves who die in servitude have their heads cut off and hung right up there. I have no idea when it began but over the centuries it has become something of a dream for every elf who belongs to this house to find its head up there one day. A disgusting dream, but one I cannot do anything about," Sirius muttered darkly.
"Why is it still here though?"
"Huh? What do you mean Harry?"
Harry turned around to face Sirius fully, and for the first time that night, Sirius got a good look at his godson's face, or more precisely, into his eyes. They were glowing slightly, like emerald flames flickering in those orbs.
"You cannot do anything about the thought process of a Black house elf. But you can certainly do away with this disgusting piece of... let's call it a shrine. Right?"
Sirius frowned.
"Well, I haven't tried before."
"No time like the present."
Sirius nodded and brandished his wand. Pointing it toward the ceiling, he levitated the heads one by one until the entire hallway was filled to the brim.
"That was a lot." Sirius remarked, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his coat. Harry chuckled.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Burn it all," Harry remarked.
However, before Sirius could do anything, a crack sounded out and Harry saw what looked like the ugliest house-elf ever glaring at the pair of them.
"Bad master trying to spoil the shrine! Oh, how mistress would weep in afterlife!"
"This is Kreacher. Has been alone in this house after my mother's death, so he's gone around the bend."
Harry, meanwhile, was looking at the elf who was still glaring at the two of them and frowned.
"This is a Black family elf?"
"Unfortunately."
"I don't have time for his bullshit. Order him to dispose of this waste himself or move. His choice. Come on, Sirius. You're his master. As much as I don't like this house elf enslavement, it's the only option right now."
"You don't have to convince me, Harry. I never liked this piece of shit anyway. The only reason he still lives here is because he knows too much, and I don't have it in myself to get rid of him otherwise."
Turning to Kreacher, Sirius snarled.
"Listen here you piece of shit, either move or I'll order you to get rid of their heads yourself. Your choice in this."
If possible, Kreacher's face took on an even more loathsome look as he glared at Sirius with all the venom he could muster. Harry didn't find himself spared, and was subjected to the full force of Kreacher's glare. What felt like hours passed as the three simply stood there before Kreacher's shoulders slumped. With a horrible wail that made the hair on the back of their necks rise, Kreacher threw himself to the side and started crying his heart out.
Harry felt genuinely bad for the elf now. Even though he was deranged, Harry could see that his emotions were in no way fake. No matter how fucked up it was, he knew this was something that meant a lot to Kreacher.
He felt more than saw the heat of the flames that erupted out of Sirius' wand, completely controlled, as the dead elf heads were engulfed in those flames, which continued to burn for a few minutes.
Nothing was audible in the hallway apart from the charring of rotten flesh and Kreacher's pitiful cries until the former subsided.
The two wizards kept on watching as Kreacher kept on whimpering. The thick snot that leaked out of his nose made them scrunch up their noses in disgust before they turned around to look at each other. Sirius offered a helpless shrug as if saying 'What can I do here?'. Harry shook his head.
With a deep breath, he turned back toward Kreacher whose whimpering had ceased, and saw that he had turned around to glare at them murderously. Despite himself, Harry felt a chill go down his spine at the purely evil look the elf was giving them.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw all the Order members as well as the kids who were supposed to stay there had come up the stairs and were observing the spectacle in front of them with wide eyes. Tonks caught his eye and made to come forward but stopped with a frown when Harry discreetly shook his head. He saw Ron and Hermione looking at the scene in shock.
"Kreacher..." Harry sighed when the elf flinched.
"Nasty half-blood destructing Kreacher's shrine. Kreacher should kill nasty half blood."
Sirius stepped forward in agitation but Harry grabbed his arm firmly and shook his head.
"Listen Kreacher," Harry spoke, turning around and looking the elf in the eyes, "I realize how much this shrine meant to you, but you have to understand that it was not right. No!" Harry raised his voice when he saw Kreacher opening his mouth, and saw him close his mouth abruptly.
"What that shrine actually was, was a sign of the fucked-up ways of the Blacks and their fucked-up attitude toward those who were not pure," Harry's tone was sarcastic in the end, "over the years it morphed into something else. Something to signify their power over your race. What better way to subjugate someone than to make them think of themselves as worthless?"
Kreacher, however, looked like he couldn't care in the least, and it seemed Harry reached the same conclusion, and with a sigh, he conceded, not willing to waste his energy anymore.
"Alright then. Since I made Sirius destroy your shrine, I will grant you one favour. Apart from killing any innocent, putting anyone in mortal peril, freeing you or betraying anyone, I will help you in any one task, no matter what."
Everyone's eyes widened at the proclamation and Sirius tried to dissuade him, but Harry held firm.
"It's the least I can do for him after what we did, Sirius."
Turning toward the wide-eyed elf, Harry smiled.
"Well, when you decide what you want me for, come find me. I'll do my best to help you out."
Kreacher said nothing for a few moments and simply stared at him, before sneering and popping out with a soft crack.
Harry released a deep breath and saw that everyone was coming forward.
"Hey everyone," he grinned. Hermione scowled, and so did Tonks.
"What were you thinking, Hotshot? Going ahead and promising that barmy old elf something like that?" Tonks hissed angrily and Harry chuckled, something which made her angrier.
"Oh, come on, Tonksie. What's the most he could ask for? You heard my conditions. The worst he could ask me for is throwing the trash out or cleaning the toilets, which, while not particularly appealing, are not much of a hassle."
"You're becoming too cocky, Potter," she muttered, before yelping when Harry poked her on the side.
"Why you!"
She fired a quick stinger which Harry dodged before quickly dashing toward where Sirius had told him his room was. Finding the one with the name Regulus, he pushed it open and shut it behind him. He was right on time as the moment the door closed behind him, he heard the tell-tale sound of a stinger colliding with the wooden frame.
With a chuckle, he walked inside the room. Taking his clothes off until he was in his boxers, he threw them off to the side where the laundry basket was kept before climbing into the bed. The temperature runes activated themselves in an instant as he pulled the covers over his body and closed his eyes.
Outside the room, the crowd slowly dissipated until his two best friends and Ginny remained.
"He's different. Too different." Hermione muttered. Ron simply frowned.
"We'll talk in the morning. He just came, Hermione. And then all the drama since then. He must be tired. Come on, let's get to bed. Night, Ron," Ginny grabbed her arm and the two girls started walking away.
"Night, Ron," Hermione muttered, looking at Ron with a frown. The youngest Weasley son gave a quiet 'Night' in response before he turned around toward the room that he was supposed to share with Harry but wouldn't now.
No matter what anyone said, there was certainly some distance now between them. The Golden Trio was breaking at the seams, with the pivotal member slowly pulling himself away, leaving the other two confused and filled with a sense of longing. But the question remained in their minds, why the sudden change?
XXXXX
The morning came far too soon for his liking and with a groan, Harry woke up. Blearily blinking his eyes open, he squinted them to look at the large clock that was hanging over the fireplace.
7:17 AM.
Time to wake up, then.
Harry pushed the covers aside and climbed out of the bed, making his way over to the bathroom. Relieving himself, he walked over to the wash basin and brushed his teeth, occasionally glancing at his reflection in the mirror. Once he was done, he washed his face properly and dried it up with a towel before properly taking his body in.
He had filled out considerably over the summer. The whey protein he had started taking combined with a healthy diet and a regular exercise schedule saw his body getting a healthily toned structure. His chest looked broader than before, and so were his arms – not overly large but not skinny either. Although he didn't have any packs in his abdomen yet, he had visible abs and his chest looked defined. Turning around slightly, he could make out his toned back and gave a satisfied nod.
Harry was not vain but he couldn't deny that it felt good to see his body in such physical shape after he remembered how scrawny he used to look a few years ago. He had once been one of the shortest in his year, but now he had grown to a respectable height of 5'11".
Grabbing a towel from the rack, he hung it over his shoulder and made his way to the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and ready for the day before he sat down on the couch near the fireplace and closed his eyes. As had been the norm for months now, he started to work on his Occlumency. Tonks had tested his shields a few days ago and deemed him fit enough to keep an expert Legilimens out, but Harry wanted to improve further. All he needed to do was to undertake the calming exercises and work on developing his mental mindscape.
He had already observed the impact of Occlumency on his behaviour. While earlier he was easy to surprise and lose his cool, Occlumency had tempered his behaviour considerably. He didn't give in to his impulses so easily now, and his critical thinking skills had also improved substantially.
Hermione had not been wrong the previous night. He wouldn't have been able to make such plans or think so thoroughly earlier, but Occlumency helped him keep a calm mind and think things through.
When he opened his eyes about half an hour later, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. As always, his eyes glowed a slight emerald before they settled down to normal. This was another new aspect of his magic he had observed since that meeting in Dumbledore's office. His magic had matured so much already that his eyes sometimes glowed. Harry didn't mind. He felt it looked cool.
His eyes took in the time before he stood up and walked over to the door. Looking around, he saw that his bed had been made already.
'Maybe Kreacher has come around. Good.'
XXXXX
Mrs. Weasley was the first to see him as he entered the dining room and with a smile, she made him sit before dishing his breakfast out. No one else apart from Mr. Weasley and Remus was down, each of whom gave him a nod before going back to their breakfast.
He saw Mr. Weasley reading the Profit with a frown.
"Anything interesting in the rag, Mr. Weasley?" He questioned politely. The Weasley patriarch chewed his toast before putting the paper down.
"Nothing new apart from the usual. However, it seems a new educational decree is in talks."
Harry frowned.
"What for?"
"Well, it says here that Minister Fudge has proposed a bill to allow the ministry to appoint a teacher at Hogwarts if the post remains vacant on or after one month prior to the date of the commencement of school year." Remus took over, reading from the rag.
"Looks like he wants to plant his bug at Hogwarts. Any idea which posts are vacant apart from the DADA one?"
"As far as I know, all other posts are filled. Only the Defence post is still vacant. Apparently, the headmaster has been having trouble finding a candidate." Mr. Weasley said with a frown.
"Now that I think about it, it's not entirely farfetched to think that the ministry, or even Lucius Malfoy might be blocking prospective applicants so that they could plant their spy at Hogwarts. Not when they believe that you and Dumbledore are plotting something together. Having a stooge of theirs right where you two stay for the majority of the year would be a top priority," Remus remarked.
"Well, if the track record is anything to go by…"
"…the bug won't last more than a year."
They turned around to see the twins entering the dining room.
"Agreed boys, but one year is still a long time. Let's hope the headmaster manages to hire someone by the end of the week."
Harry sat there with a pensive look on his face as he pondered upon Mr. Weasley's and Remus' words. For some reason, he had a bad feeling about this.
"Yeah, let's hope so," he muttered, as he took a bite of his apple.
XXXXX
While Harry was talking to Remus and Mr Weasley at the dining table, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were standing in front of his room.
Hermione broke the silence.
"Ready?"
Ron nodded.
"He's usually getting up around this time. We should talk before breakfast. Better get this out of the way soon, eh?"
Hermione nodded and tapped the door twice. The trio waited for Harry to open the door, but nothing happened.
"Do you think he's still asleep?" Ginny asked.
"Maybe," Ron nodded and twisted the doorknob. However, he was surprised when the door didn't open.
"It's locked."
"What now?" Ginny asked.
"Remember your father telling us that the ministry cannot trace it when we do magic here?" Hermione asked as she brandished her wand and pointed it at the door.
"Alohamora!"
Nothing happened, to Hermione's surprise.
"What are you three doing here?"
The trio whirled around to find Sirius leaning against the wall opposite the room.
"Er... nothing. We just wanted to go to breakfast together, but it seems Harry is still asleep. Honestly, he should start getting up earlier. It's past 8 already," Hermione huffed. Sirius chuckled.
"Well then, Ms. Granger, you'd be pleased to know that Harry is already up and is done with his breakfast as well."
The three had their eyes widened at that bit of information.
"Already?" Ron blurted out.
Sirius nodded.
"He's been getting up around 6 every day since the summer started, even though I keep telling him to get a sleep-in every once in a while. If you want, you might find him at the dining table."
Hermione nodded.
"Come on," she motioned the two to follow her, and they made their way down to the kitchen.
"Just what happened to him, I wonder," Hermione muttered with a frown. While happy that Harry was changing his regular habits for the better, the changes seemed too sudden, and she had a tough time coping with the situation.
"Do you think, you know, he's decided to get serious because of what happened last year?" Ginny asked, and Hermione thought upon it.
"It's possible, isn't it? I mean, think about it. He saw You-know-who come back to life."
Ron and Ginny shuddered as they thought about that and nodded.
"No matter. We'd talk to him. I don't like this distance I am feeling between us."
With grim determination, the trio entered the kitchen and found, to their relief, Harry sitting there. What surprised them slightly was the look on his face. It felt as if he was thinking too hard.
"Come on, you three. Sit down." The voice of Molly Weasley prompted Harry to look up, and his eyes met Hermione's.
For a long moment, nothing happened until Harry gave her a nod and a small smile, gesturing for her to join them. Relieved, Hermione looked at Ron and Ginny, and the trio walked over to sit in front of Harry.
Hermione went on to open her mouth, but Mrs Weasley cut her off as she placed their breakfast in front of them.
"You should eat it before it gets cold," Harry remarked, gesturing to the food, before he turned toward Mrs Weasley, "The food was excellent as always, Mrs Weasley."
The woman beamed. She had been slightly upset with his words the previous night, but Arthur had had a long talk with her. She didn't like it, but she knew she had no choice. All she could do was support them and understand.
"You're too kind, Harry dear," she smiled. Harry nodded to Mr Weasley and Remus before turning around to walk out.
"Harry... uh... can we talk after breakfast?"
Hermione looked on as Harry stopped before turning around. Her hopes rose when he gave her a smile and nodded.
"I'll be in the basement. Come there."
And without another word, he walked out of the room.
XXXXX
Harry had his eyes closed and leaned back against the wall when Ron, Hermione, and Ginny arrived in the basement. The duelling arena had been cleared of all the dummies and props, and only his solitary self stood there.
In reality, he was honing his Occlumency once again. He had grown leaps and bounds in the skill and didn't wait to dedicate any free time he had to perfect it. After all, the sooner he became a master in the art, the sooner he'd get to know all the secrets that the headmaster was surely keeping.
Their footsteps alerted him to their presence, and Harry slowly opened his eyes. A sharp intake of breath prompted him to look upward, and he saw the three looking at him with slightly widened eyes. Quickly, he established firm control over his magic and nodded at the trio.
Looking critically at them, Harry waved his wand. In an instant, four comfy-looking chairs materialized out of thin air. His friends looked on with widened eyes at the blatant display of advanced conjuration, and silently on top of that. However, Harry was busy doing something else.
'I'm sorry for doing this, but I need to know your true feelings. Only then can I know if you're deserving of knowing some of my true secrets that I'm allowed to share.'
While the trio was looking at the conjured chairs in shock, Harry was delving into their minds, only scanning their surface thoughts. He had never had any reason to doubt them, but he was not blind either. Hermione had this tendency to feel jealous whenever she saw someone doing better than her, and Ron had an inferiority complex so massive that he was also prone to jealousy.
True to his suspicion, Hermione was shocked, as expected. However, he could also feel her thinking about how he had done this. As he delved slightly deeper, he felt her thinking how she would grill him for this significant increase in skill and knowledge.
Harry internally scoffed. Entitlement was an off-putting trait and one he hated so much. Many people had treated him as if he considered himself entitled to preferential treatment solely because he was the Boy who lived, and he resented it.
The fact that Hermione felt she deserved to know anything left a sour taste in his mouth.
Ron, although not bearing a sense of entitlement, wasn't without his faults either. As Harry delved into his mind after his perusal of Hermione's, he felt the jealousy the youngest male Weasley harboured. The sentiments of the previous year when he had been chosen as the Hogwarts champion and not Ron echoed once again. Although the boy had not accused him of lying when he said that he had not entered his name, Harry clearly recalled the distrustful looks and the instances when his jealousy and resentment would surface.
His mind wandered to the talk he had once had with Sirius regarding Pettigrew and his motivations. Sirius had recalled with detachment how thick as thieves they had been.
However, he also told him how Pettigrew had started to resent the other marauders. James was a charismatic Quidditch star. Sirius had been a quintessential playboy, popular with the ladies, while Remus was academically brilliant.
Pettigrew, when compared to the others, saw himself as an ordinary person overshadowed by his three friends. That was what led him to start resenting his friends. What followed was anything but pleasant. The marauders had never expected that one of their own would betray them in such a manner. The boy they had grown up with had turned out to be a traitor.
Harry, never for a moment, imagined that Ron or Hermione would turn out the way Peter did. But could he take the chance? Dumbledore had made him keep the knowledge a secret, and Harry was sure more would follow. Would they still stand by him when they knew just how his magic worked and how much advanced he was already? Could they bear living in his shadow as they were bound to be, given the growth Harry was undergoing? Harry didn't know.
He didn't know, but he couldn't take any chances. He would not ostracize them, for they had done nothing against him yet, but he realized he could not confide in them. Not until he was sure he could explicitly trust them. The older Harry would have never thought of doing what he had just done, never would have thought of the things he had just now, but the older Harry existed no more, did he?
He had died. He had suffered. And he had a burden on his shoulders, a responsibility so massive that anyone else would have crumbled already. Could he afford to have knives hidden in his blind spot? Obviously no. Too much was at stake here.
However, there was no need to uselessly push them away. They had not done anything yet, and just because he couldn't trust them with his deepest, darkest secrets and plans, it didn't mean they couldn't remain friends. After all, they had supported him so far, and he didn't see the need to blow things out of proportion.
"Take a seat, guys," Harry said, sitting down on a chair opposite the other three and leaning back. The trio looked at him for a moment before sitting down.
"How did you do it, Harry?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the chairs, and Harry could easily decipher the bewildered tone she used. He leaned back slightly and gazed at them.
"To tell you the truth, I have no idea."
"How can you have no idea? You conjured these chairs! We don't learn basic conjuration until 6th year!" Hermione went on at a rapid pace that was so like her that Harry internally chuckled. However, his demeanour remained calm as he took them in. Ron was looking at him with a frown, while Ginny had her eyes slightly widened as if she still could not believe he had displayed such advanced magic.
"Well, ever since I fought with Voldemort in that graveyard," he rolled his eyes when the trio flinched, "seriously guys, it's just a name. You don't have to react that way every time someone mentions it."
"Easy for you to say mate," Ron muttered.
"Anyway," Harry shook his head, "ever since that night, my magic has been slightly different. Had a talk with Dumbledore about it. Although he didn't know much, he told me to keep practicing the advanced spells from our NEWT syllabus. I'd been tinkering with them during the tournament as well, so it was not a bother."
Hermione had a frown on her face, while Ron and Ginny were surprised.
"There isn't something wrong, is there? I mean, you're fine, right?" Ginny asked, and Harry smiled.
"Yeah. There isn't anything to worry about."
Internally, Harry frowned. While not having any jealous feelings toward him, Ginny harboured a certain degree of obsession over him, or rather, on who she perceived as the Boy who lived. He had tried to quell that obsession over the years, treating her like a little sister, but nothing seemed to work. She had her heart set on them getting together, and Harry knew that.
However, he simply didn't see her in that light. Sure, she was a beautiful girl on the cusp of adulthood, but her personality left a lot to be desired. It didn't help that she displayed a certain degree of similarity with Mrs Weasley whenever she was with any boyfriend of hers, and Harry preferred to stay away from that kind of behaviour. His life already had a lot of drama. He didn't need an overbearing girlfriend on top of that.
Another fact that didn't help Ginny was that he already had feelings for someone else. She might have looked like a child, but her personality stated otherwise. She had told him that veela matured on their 18th birthday, and he really looked forward to seeing her next. If Fleur and her mother were anything to go by, he knew he would be blown away. He would be a blind person to not notice the unearthly beauty the two women possessed.
A soft clearing of the throat brought him out of his funk, and Harry looked to see Hermione looking at him nervously. He cocked his head sideways and furrowed his brows, silently asking what the matter was.
Hermione sighed.
"It's just... you seem different somehow," she stated.
"Hmm? Different as in?"
"I don't know," she said, exasperated, and threw her hands up.
"You're not making any sense here, Hermione, and that is uncharacteristically unlike you."
"See! That's what I'm talking about!" She pointed her finger at him. Harry was thoroughly confused now.
"What exactly are you talking about?"
"All this!" She exclaimed, "Your entire demeanour has changed. Your way of speaking has changed. How you sit, how you walk, how you think. You're very confident now, and it's totally visible. Just look at how you are sitting right now. Earlier, you used to slouch, while now you're leaning back and looking so comfortable. And don't get me started on that piece of magic! Hexes and jinxes are understandable, but silent conjuration at such scale!? How did you change so much in only a few weeks!?"
Ron and Ginny sat there in silence, their eyes on Hermione as she breathed heavily. Harry frowned.
"I really didn't notice any of that," he began, "in fact, you are the first person to say all this to me."
"That's because no one else knows you as well as Ron and I do! Admit it, Harry, you've changed," she stated before lowering her voice and adding, "and I'm not sure I like these changes."
Harry had his eyes widened as he looked at her, who had her eyes opened in shock as if she couldn't believe what came out of her mouth.
With a slight edge to his voice, he replied, his voice a bit soft but easily carrying across the small distance between them, "So you don't like the fact that I'm a better version of myself, is that it?"
"Harry I-" she began, but he cut her off abruptly.
"You don't like that I am a more confident person now. More aware of myself. Or that I know some advanced magic now, something that happened because I studied on my own? Is that what you're saying? That you preferred it when I was worse? Is that what a friend wants?"
His voice was dripping with disdain in the end, and he watched as Hermione's eyes widened with every word that came out of his mouth. Surprisingly, Ron kept silent, his eyes on the floor. Harry went for the offensive. He had the opening he needed to entirely confirm the suspicions he had harboured for over a year, and the beast inside him wanted to hunt.
"And what about you, Ron?"
Ron slowly looked up at him, and he was taken aback at the look of abject disdain in Harry's eyes.
"Do you feel the same way? Do you prefer it for me to stay the same pathetic child who stumbled over his words frequently? Who threw himself head on in dangerous situations without a care for his self-preservation? Who possessed little to no ounce of critical thinking? Is that the Harry Potter you'd have preferred to be friends with?"
Ron started feeling nervous now. The air had thickened inside the basement. The entire conversation had gone downhill quickly, and all that was because of one slip-up from Hermione. He mentally chided her.
Harry was hovering over his surface thoughts the entire time, and when he felt what Ron really thought, he mentally sneered. The redhead didn't know that Harry had invaded Hermione's mind. Not to see her memories or anything like that, but to lower her corrective reasoning slightly so she would express her true feelings on the matter. And damn was he spot on in his analysis.
He didn't need to hear any further response. Now he knew exactly how these two felt. Their inferiority complex ran so deep that they never wanted him to get better. He had suspected it for a while, but having it confirmed in such a blatant manner was surprising, to say the least.
He recalled when it all began. The changes had first started when he had mastered the Patronus. That was when he had first felt that something was off with the two, but being a naive young lad, he had not let it affect him any bit. The matter had slightly escalated when he had been chosen to be the Hogwarts champion. The two didn't abandon him or anything, but he could feel a slight distance between them. Something he didn't pay any mind to, yet again.
However, things were different now. He was different now. Not burdened with any external influence while being aware of how capable he truly was, his thought process had entirely changed. Adding his rapid advancement in the mind arts to the mix and it was not wrong to say that Harry Potter had improved dramatically in a very short span.
"You know what? Save your lies. Your faces are shouting the truth." Harry said as he stood up and turned around to walk away, and the trio abruptly stood up as well.
"H-Harry! We've been always with you. We supported you all these years. First year with the stone, then the Chamber. We helped you free Sirius! We supported you all throughout the tournament, and – "
Harry cut Hermione off with a raised hand, not turning around.
"Thank you for reminding me, but you don't need to," he remarked with a rueful chuckle, "I appreciate you for that, and I am grateful for all the support. But you cannot expect me to just let this go as if this doesn't exist," he sighed. "I'll never turn my back on you if you ever need my help, but that's all there is to our relationship now."
Without a second glance, Harry walked away. However, as he reached the door, he grabbed the doorknob and paused.
"We are not enemies, and I really hope we'll never be. But we're not friends either, not anymore. Stay out of my way from now on. I'd appreciate it."
The trio watched with wide eyes as with those parting words, Harry shut the door behind him. Ginny could only stand there, shocked, as she looked on. Slowly, she turned toward them.
"What was that?" She asked disbelievingly, her wide eyes taking in the expressions on their faces.
Ron stood there, looking at the floor. Ginny turned to look at Hermione, who was looking at her with her eyes wide in shock as if she couldn't process what had just happened.
"Tell me!" Ginny cried out. Her voice fell on deaf ears as Ron and Hermione simply averted their eyes and failed to form any response whatsoever.
"I see," she whispered, glaring at them. "If that's how you really feel, then you're pathetic. Good riddance for him, I'd say," she hissed before shoving Ron out of the way and walking off with a snarl on her face.
Hermione dropped on the chair as her eyes welled up. Tears spurted out of her eyes as she looked at Ron, who was looking anywhere but her.
She couldn't believe she had said that. It was the truth, she knew, but to say it out was entirely different.
She buried her face in her hands and cried as Ron stood there, seemingly uncaring of her plight and his face frozen in shock.
What they had feared for some time had now come true. The so-called Golden Trio was no more.
To be continued...
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