Veiled Hearts ~ HP Fanfiction (Harry Potter X OC)

Chapter 31: Godfather meetings

He hadn't seen her since Saturday evening, and his mind raced with the possibilities of what she might be thinking. Did she miss him? Harry pondered the curious nature of their relationship – how they could argue like mad banshees one moment, only to find themselves drawn back to each other in the next.

The enigma of their connection both intrigued and bewildered him, leaving him grappling with a myriad of emotions as he longed for their next encounter.

Harry's mind churned with uncertainty as he pondered the logistics of acquiring the potion for birth control. Where on earth would he find it? The thought of approaching someone for such a delicate matter made him squirm uncomfortably.

Sirius was out of the question, trapped in his family's house under strict surveillance. Lupin? Harry hesitated; he couldn't bring himself to confide in his former professor about such personal matters. Mr. Weasley was ruled out as well; the last thing Harry wanted was to involve Ron's father in his private affairs. As he mulled over his options, a sense of frustration gnawed at him. How could something so simple feel so impossibly complicated?

Feeling the weight of the dilemma pressing down on him, Harry sighed heavily. He couldn't shake the nagging worry about how to fulfill Celestia's request discreetly. Perhaps there was someone else he could turn to, someone he trusted implicitly. Hermione? No, she'd probably launch into a lecture about the importance of responsible behavior. Ron? He seemed trustworthy enough, but would he understand the urgency of Harry's predicament? The more Harry considered his options, the more overwhelmed he felt. It was like navigating a labyrinth of uncertainty with no clear path forward. Eventually, he resolved Sirius will be his better option.

Harry started doing his assignment, as He, Ron, and Hermione are diligently working on their homework late into the night.

Despite their efforts, Ron grows increasingly frustrated with Hermione's corrections in his essay about Jupiter's moons. Hermione, trying to be helpful, points out an error, which further annoys Ron. However, their focus is interrupted when Percy's owl, Hermes, unexpectedly appears at the window.

Ron is surprised to receive a letter from Percy and eagerly reads its contents. As he reads further, Ron's expression darkens, and he becomes visibly upset. He shares the contents of the letter with Harry and Hermione, who lean in together to read it.

Harry reads the letter then he looks up at Ron. "Well," he said, trying to sound as though he found the whole thing a joke, "if you want to - er - what is it?" - he checked Percy's letter - "Oh yeah - “sever ties” with me, I swear I won't get violent."

"Give it back," said Ron, holding out his hand. "He is -" Ron said jerkily, tearing Percy's letter in half "the world's -" he tore it into quarters "biggest -" he tore it into eighths "git.' He threw the pieces into the fire. "Come on, we've got to get this finished sometime before dawn," he said briskly to Harry, pulling Professor Sinistra's essay back towards him.

Hermione was looking at Ron with an odd expression on her face.

"Oh, give them here," she said abruptly.

'What?' said Ron.

"Give them to me, I'll look through them and correct them,' she said.

"Are you serious? Ah, Hermione, you're a life-saver," said Ron, "what can I -?"

"What you can say is, “We promise we'll never leave our homework this late again,”" she said, holding out both hands for their essays, but she looked slightly amused all the same.

"Thanks a million, Hermione," said Harry weakly, passing over his essay and sinking back into his armchair, rubbing his eyes.

It was now past midnight and the common room was deserted but for the three of them and Crookshanks. The only sound was that of Hermione's quill scratching out sentences here and there on their essays and the ruffle of pages as she checked various facts in the reference books strewn across the table. Harry was exhausted. He also felt an odd, sick, empty feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with tiredness and everything to do with the letter now curling blackly in the heart of the fire.