Finding the Key - Kapitola 31

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Harry no longer needed his lessons with McGonagall, but he showed up at her classroom that Tuesday night anyway. He hadn't had a chance to see her during the day and he wanted the information about the orphaned muggle-born children. They had tea and discussed what Harry wanted to do. McGonagall made Harry swear he would talk to her, his father, Remus, or Dumbledore before he took any action.
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One family name was pointed out on the list, Johnson. McGonagall explained that it was the brother and sister-in-law of Angelina Johnson. They had been killed along with their six-year-old daughter, leaving their eighteen-month-old son to be raised by Angelina's parents. She recommended that Harry talk to Angelina before contacting the former Gryffindor's parents.
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She told Harry about the day she spent in her cat form watching the Dursleys and how she had disapproved of placing him there. "I am sorry Harry," McGonagall was deeply sad, almost so much as to bring Harry to tears himself. "I should have been more persuasive with Albus. I should have insisted he have more than Ara Figg there to watch over you."
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Harry was sitting opposite her in front of the fire in her office, a large scroll of parchment on the table between them. Harry moved forward in his seat and placed a hand over hers, blocking out the majority of the feelings he was sensing from her, as touch made the empathy so much more powerful. Maybe that was another reason he never liked being touched.
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"You couldn't have known how bad they really were," Harry looked her in the eye, glad he had found some control and wouldn't trigger a connection. "I don't blame you. I blame them. Who would expect anyone to treat family the way the Dursleys treated me, no matter how unpleasant they are? If I blamed you for the Dursleys who should I blame for my parents, or Cedric, or Sirius?"
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McGonagall wiped under her eyes with her free hand, "I am amazed at the capacity you have for love Harry, when you grew up without it."
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Harry had started slightly. He didn't see his emotions for Snape and Dumbledore and McGonagall, for Ron and Hermione, as love. He had no idea what love was, except for the deep pain he had felt when he lost Sirius. Could he love without knowing it? Harry pushed any such thoughts out of mind quickly.
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It was a short meeting, over when they had drained their tea. Harry took the scroll of names and wandered aimlessly around the castle. Ron was having his strange Occlumency lessons. He was able to play a full game of chess without distraction from any of the tricks Snape thought up. There was definitely some Marauder in his father, though he would never tell him. The ultimate test for Ron had been the week before when Snape had conjured a spider to walk around the chess board.
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The sadistic side of his father had considered having spiders crawl around on Ron but Harry had forbidden it. That was just needlessly cruel. His father backed down readily enough and Harry wondered if his father had just been provoking him. They were connected but Harry sometimes found it very difficult to know what the man was thinking.
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"Harry!" Hermione ran up behind him, her arms full of books. "Aren't you supposed to be with McGonagall?"
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Harry shook his head and grinned proudly, "Nope, all done."
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Hermione caught on in an instant and her eyes lit up, "Ooo, you are coming to my room and showing me right now!"
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Harry raised his eyebrows at the commanding tone of voice, "Don't you have a bag for all those books?"
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"It's full," Hermione explained shortly.
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She shifted the books so she could get a hand free and brush a tendril of hair out of her eyes. Ginny had been cutting her hair once a month to keep the short style neat and the only complaint Hermione had was that she couldn't tie it back, but she did buy a number of bands and scarves to keep it from getting the way while studying.
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Harry flicked his hand and levitated the books in front of him. Hermione blushed and they walked towards her room together. Hermione had said many times that she still sometimes thought like a muggle.
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"Granger, Potter," Malfoy looked up from his own work as they entered. "My condolences for your loss Potter."
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Harry stopped short for a moment and then nodded, "Thank you."
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People had been touching him softly and giving him their 'heartfelt condolences' for his cousin. The amount of post he got as a result of Dudley's death and the attack on his aunt and uncle was simply ridiculous. Harry was in the process of testing his theory about training Ron and was erecting walls around his memories of the Dursleys to get them out of his life once and for all. Whenever someone stopped him he had to think a moment before remembering what they were talking about.
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If Ron was able to group all his thoughts about the brains and the future together he would have a good chance of walling them off from the rest of his mind.
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Harry stacked Hermione's books on a chair at her worktable and she grabbed his arm and dragged him towards her room. Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head at Malfoy's bemused expression but he let Hermione lead him.
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"Okay Mr. Secretive, I'm not telling anyone about my form, change!" Hermione ordered.
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He chuckled but did as she told. Refusing to obey Hermione was easy enough, but not worth the resulting hassle. She rarely gave outright orders, anyway. He flew around her room in a circle before perching on the back of an upholstered chair. He shifted from foot to foot until his weight was settled nicely then ruffled his feathers and cooed softly.
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Hermione sighed and came over to inspect him, doubtless taking in every detail. With a beak he couldn't smile, but his phoenix self trilled instead. Hermione's eyes widened, as did her own smile. It seemed that his animagus form had the same effect as a regular phoenix did when he sang.
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When Hermione stepped back and sat on her bed he flew over to her and changed. Harry stretched and lay down on the bed. Hermione shifted to lay down perpendicular to him and used his stomach as a pillow, looking up at the canopy of her bed.
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Harry smiled and played with her hair absently. Despite the products he knew she used in her hair it felt like it had just been washed. There were muggles that would kill for those potions.
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"You saw Charlie this weekend?" Hermione asked, smiling just a little.
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"Yeah," Harry did not elaborate. He didn't really want to talk about that weekend, the Dursleys, or Charlie. He would show her the scroll though. He knew he could enlist Hermione's help in his cause. After all, he had actually joined S.P.E.W. Hermione owed him.
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She turned to lie on her side and look at him, "What's sex like?"
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His eyes widened, "You mean you and Ron haven't..."
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