Magic? || Years 5-7

Bitter News and Felix Felicis: Year 6

"It's a bit odd," Hermione said, her eyes shadowed. "She's supposed to be guarding the school, why's she suddenly abandoning her post to come and see Dumbledore when he's not even here?"

"I had a thought," Harry said, stilted, awkward. As if he wasn't quite sure how to word it. "You don't think she can't have been. . . you know. . . in love with Sirius?"

Blinking, Amisty stared at him. "What on earth makes you say that?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged, "but she was nearly crying when I mentioned his name. . . and her Patronus is a big four-legged thing now. . . I wondered whether it hadn't become. . . you know. . . him."

"It's a thought," Hermione said, drawing out the vowels. "But I still don't know why she'd be bursting into the castle to see Dumbledore, if that's really why she was here. . ."

"Goes back to what I said, doesn't it?" Ron said around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Amisty cut him a glare, kicking his ankle under the table. "She's gone a bit funny. Lost her nerve. Women," he said to Harry with the air of a very wise old man who had no idea what he was talking about, "they're easily upset."

Amisty kicked him again. Harder.

"And yet," Hermione said, cutting, "I doubt you'd find a woman who sulked for half an hour because Madam Rosmerta didn't laugh at their joke about the hag, the Healer, and the Mimbulus mimbletonia."

Ron scowled.

Amisty and Hermione certainly did not high five underneath the table.

By the time the Apparition Test rolled around, Harry had yet to invade the Room of Requirement or get the memory from Slughorn. The good news, however, was that as the month drifted closer to summer, they could sit in the courtyard without cloaks and Warming Charms. Amisty was taking the warming weather splendidly, tipping her face up into the sunshine as they lounged in the courtyard after lunch. Well, while she lounged. Ron and Hermione were studying for their Test, clutching Common Apparition Mistakes and How to Avoid Them leaflets in their hands, and Harry was brooding over the fact that he hadn't succeeded in either of his missions.

"For the last time, just forget about Malfoy," Hermione said, the effort it took not to roll her eyes tangible.

Amisty nearly scoffed. As if it were that easy.

Harry just glared, hunching over even more as if the earth would swallow him whole. Not like that would help him in either direction.

Suddenly, Ron hid behind Hermione as a girl popped around the corner.

"It's not Lavender," Hermione said, sighing.

"Oh," Ron said, tension leaking out of his spine as he straightened up, "good."

"Harry Potter?" the girl said, holding out a scroll of parchment. "I was asked to give you this."

"Thanks. . ." Harry said, his expression wilting further. "Dumbledore said we wouldn't be having any more lessons until I got the memory!"

"Maybe he wants to check on how you're doing?" Hermione said.

Harry sighed, unrolling the scroll. But he didn't seem berated in any way, more conflicted than anything else.

"Look at this," he said, handing the note over. It was splotchy and rushed, but undoubtedly Hagrid's handwriting, tear stains blurring the ink.

Dear Harry, Ron, Amisty, and Hermione,

Aragog died last night. Harry, Ron, and Amisty, you met him, and you know how special he was. Hermione, I know you'd have liked him. It would mean a lot to me if you'd nip down for the burial later this evening. I'm planning on doing it round dusk, that was his favorite time of day. I know you're not supposed to be out that late, but you can use the cloak. Wouldn't ask, but I can't face it alone.