Later that day, for lack of something to do, Harry was tidying up the tent (it would have taken about 5 minutes with magic, but he was doing it by hand to kill time), and Hermione was going through the contents of her handbag, making a mess where Harry had just cleaned.
"I wonder if we could make Felix Felicis? I know Slughorn said it was difficult and time consuming, but we have nothing but time on our hands...Where...where...ahhh, here it is, 'Advanced Potion Making!' She traced her finger across the title of the book, feeling nostalgic at the mere sight of the words. Opening the book, she started to laugh when she saw the title page, with the name 'Roonil Wazlib' written across the top.
"Harry, do you remember those self-correcting quills that Fred & George used to sell? Their magic sure didn't last very long, did it?"
"True, it didn't," said Harry as he warmed to the memory. "I always wondered if that was Fred & George's intent, that they'd malfunction and start writing wonky things. It's totally something they would have done. I sure miss them," Harry said with a twinge of regret and more than a little bit of grief.
"I do too. It was just awful what the Carrows did. I don't think they intended for their shop to blow up, they probably didn't realize how many volatile potions they had in their research lab."
"I don't know, I think the Death Eaters were gunning for the twins for awhile, considering how much trouble they gave their kids during their last year at Hogwarts. Trapping Goyle in that vanishing cabinet was the last straw, I think. He almost died trying to get out."
"Too bad he didn't die. There'd be one less Death Eater right now if he had," said Hermione with an uncharacteristic bitterness. "What they did to the Weasleys was unforgivable."
"That's what makes what we are doing so important, Hermione. If You-Know-Who wins, that will be the order of the day, every day."
"Remember back when the order of the day was getting an education? When our biggest problem was getting to class on time? It seems so long ago, but it was less than a year."
"Yeah, less than a year since Dumbledore..." Harry trailed off as a lump began to form in his throat. He felt that, if he allowed himself to cry for Dumbledore, he'd never stop.
"Harry, they never did find the body," said Hermione softly, laying her hand on his forearm with a sympathetic look on her face. "I still wonder what exactly happened to it."
"Well, according to McGonagall, the body was already in his tomb when they went and checked. She believed it was another spell of Dumbledore's creation, apparating his dead body into the tomb so students wouldn't have to see his corpse should he die on school grounds."
"Don't you think that sounds a little fishy, Harry? Besides, it's not possible to apparate at Hogwarts."
"Dumbledore could have worked out a way around that. And McGonagall wouldn't lie, Hermione. I know that. I trust in that."
"Well, I agree...but what if somebody had lied to HER? She never said that she personally saw the body, maybe she was just reporting what she was told by other people."
Harry sighed. They had been through this before. "Hermione...I know you don't want him to be dead. Neither do I. Hell, I'm sure most of the wizarding community feels that way. But he's gone. It doesn't do any good to keep inventing scenarios where he might still be alive. If he was, don't you think he'd have reappeared by now?"
"I'm sorry, Harry, but you know me, evidence is EVERYTHING. And until there is more conclusive evidence...I just don't think I can let it go. You're probably right though. Denial is a stage of grief, isn't it?"
Harry gave her a sad smile, wishing his dear friend wasn't so smart.