Chapter 37 - Blaming the Sheep

Headmaster Dumbledore had taken their magical oaths. Oaths which entailed that they never talk about this particular event with anyone else. And Penelope had a cold feeling in her heart that if it had been in his power, then Dumbledore would have obliviated everyone present in the scene who had seen Harry Potter almost cast the killing curse at one of their professors.

She looked at the sleeping form of the boy and wondered how someone so small could cause so much trouble.

Then she looked at Hermione Granger sleeping beside his bed and sighed.

So much for not being friends.

Penelope realize that she would lying to herself if she said that she was not afraid of Harry Potter after what happened yesterday. And that fear was not something that would simply go away just like that.

After all, few ȧduŀt wizards and witches could take on a fully grown mountain troll all on their own and live to tell the tale.

But Harry had not only killed the troll. He had obliterated it.

She still felt a bit nauseous at the reminder of that scene and decided that it would be in her best interest if she thought about something else instead.

She wondered why Harry held such animosity toward the Headmaster and why he blamed him for the supposed injuries of his friend.

Well, the headmaster and the staff members always liked to gloat that Hogwarts was the safest place and in some instances, that would true as well. For example, Voldemort attacked many places in the last war but refused to attack Hogwarts because of Headmaster Dumbledore's presence.

But for them to proclaim such a thing far and loud and after all that his only friend was attacked and almost murdered right under their noses.

No wonder he got so mad when he saw Dumbledore.

Of course Dumbledore had then interrogated her about her presence in the bathroom and she had told him the truth while making sure that she made no eye contact with him.

After all, Harry had warned her that he could read her memories if she looked in her eyes. If anyone else had told her such a thing then she would have laughed at their face but this was Harry and he was unusually serious when he told her to be wary of Snape and Dumbledore so she made sure to take his words to heart.

She told them that she tutored Harry in Ancient Runes and had been doing so for the past week or so.

By this point, the upheaval about Harry's absence from his classes had already stopped and faded away like all other rumors in Hogwarts so she doubted that she would receive any backlash from the students if this story spread among the student population but even if she received some prejudice for helping him, she would not allow it to come between their friendship.

On a completely different topic, she had to admit that the look of fear in the eyes of the staff members as they saw the destruction caused by Harry was rather amusing.

Especially when they still think that he did all that damage with his wand.

Though she had to admit that she would have never guessed that a handgun could be charmed to be so damn powerful. But then again, this was Harry she was talking about so she should have expected something like this in the first place.

With one last sigh, she placed a flower beside Harry's bedside before leaving for her classes.

Harry might get away with ditching his classes but not everyone had that luxury.

—————

Guilty.

That's what felt when he woke up for the first time after being stunned by the Headmaster and the other professors.

He felt immensely guilty over the fact that he had let Hermione die.

Sure she had decided to choose her education over his friendship and that had hurt. But she was still his friend. His first friend and despite all her misgivings, he had grown to care for her over the time they spent together.

And now she was dead.

He felt tears slid down his cheeks and knew that he was crying by now and that he must looked rather pathetic but he didn't care.

He didn't care about anything anymore.

And her still form as he held her in his arms amidst the remains of the bathroom and the troll.

Why did that happened?

Why did she had to die?

Didn't his presence in this world caused the buŧŧerfly effect and changed the events?

Then why was she in that bathroom in the first place.

Was she being bullied once again by her housemates. Was that why she was there. Had they started to bully her once again once he stopped meeting her.

A rage started burning in his heart as he thought of that.

Yes, that must have been it. Why else would she be in that bathroom all alone while the rest of the sheep celebrated in the Great Hall.

She was bullied by her classmates.

The thought angered him to no end and he decided then and there that he would purge the whole Gryffindor house if that was the last thing he did in his life.

A fiendfyre spell would do nicely.

Yes, he didn't knew how to cast that spell right now, but there were a lot of books on dark curses in the Room of Requirement and he wouldn't have to search for long in order to find that spell.

Of course he was not strong enough to control the cursed fire at this point but he didn't need to.

He could just cast the spell in the Gryffindor common room and then throw away his wand before leaving the room and closing it shut so that no one would be able to get out of the room.

And then they would all burn.

They would all fear for their lives when they realize that there was no where else for them to go and that their lives would be snuffed out at any moment now.

Just like how Hermione must have felt when the troll attacked her and there was no one else around to help her.

He had been too late.

For killing his Hermione.

Of course he would have to run out of the castle in time before they caught him as well. Once they realize what he'd done, they would come after him and there was no way in hell that he would ever let the sheep punish him for doing the right thing.

With such thoughts, he got up from his bed and looked around the white room, faintly remembering that it was the Infirmary of Hogwarts before his gaze fell on the bed beside him and he froze.

He couldn't believe the sight in front of him and rubbed his eyes a few times to make sure that he was seeing the right thing.

Hermione.

A living breathing Hermione was sleeping in the bed beside him.

Was this a dream?

Or had he died along with her and this was some kind of after life.

But then he saw the various bandages wrapped around her tiny petite body and realized what had happened.

In fact, she had never died in the first place.

Just wounded. Badly wounded from the blow. And unconscious with a weak heartbeat.

And in his grief, he had ȧssumed her to be dead.

Huh! Hadn't Romeo and Juliet done something stupid like that as well.

They had ȧssumed one another to be dead and had taken poison in order to kill themselves or something similar.

Except that in his grief induced rage, he had tried to kill the staff members instead.

He almost laughed at that thought.

Who was it that he had almost thrown a killing curse at.

He was too angry at that moment to really care and now he couldn't be bothered to remember.

After all, they were not important. Not to him at least.

He got up from his bed and slowly walked toward the sleeping form of Hermione Granger, his first friend and smiled as her ċhėst went up and down with each breath and unknowingly a genuine smile broke out in his face.

He ċȧrėssed her face gently and wondered how long it'll take for her to wake up. He wanted to talk with her. He wanted to make sure that she was truly well and alive and that this was not a joke.

He lowered his head on her ċhėst and felt her heartbeat.

Dub-dub Dub-dub Dub-dub Dub-dub

A smile broke out in his face as tears of joy formed rolled down his eyes.

She was alive.

She was well.

She was not dead.

He didn't need to care about killing the sheep in their tower.

But he would not forget.

And he would not forgive.