Daylight || Harry Potter

Chapter Twenty-Six

"But why haven't you got Occlumency lessons anymore?" said Hermione, frowning.

"I've told you," Harry muttered. "Snape reckons I can carry on by myself now I've got the basics."

I knew this was a lie, but I wasn't sure what to do. Dumbledore had pointedly told Harry to continue his lessons no matter what before he left. Since he'd also told me to stick with Harry, I wondered if that meant I was supposed to make him continue those lessons. I was by no means Harry's babysitter, but I still wanted him to be able to keep Voldemort out of his head.

"So you've stopped having funny dreams?" said Hermione skeptically.

"Pretty much," said Harry, not looking at her.

"Well, I don't think Snape should stop until you're absolutely sure you can control them!" said Hermione indignantly. "Harry, I think you should go back to him and ask —"

"No," said Harry forcefully. "Just drop it, Hermione, okay?"

It was the first day of the Easter holidays and Hermione, as per usual, had spent a large part of the day drawing up study schedules for us. I'd told her it wasn't necessary and I could do my own, but she'd insisted and told me, "No offense, Ash, but you're not exactly the best at planning this sort of thing. It won't take much time for me, anyhow."

Harry and Ron had been letting her do it since first year — Harry claimed it was easier than arguing with her and, in any case, they might come in useful.

"Wait, what?" Ron exclaimed, pointing at one of the schedules. "There are only six weeks left until exams?"

"How can that come as a shock?" Hermione demanded, as she tapped each little square on Ron's schedule with her wand so that it flashed a different color according to its subject. We had lots of discussions about which subject was which color — we all agreed that Herbology was green, charms was blue, and transfiguration was red, but that was where the agreements ended. Ron always claimed Divination was white, but I could only see it as purple, and Harry claimed Potions was yellow, though I'd always thought it was black.

Needless to say, there was a lot of controversy on the subject.

"There's been a lot going on," Ron said, shrugging.

"Well, there you are," Hermione said, handing him his schedule, "if you follow that you should do fine."

Ron looked down it gloomily, but then brightened. "You've given me an evening off every week!"

"That's for Quidditch practice," I said. "She's done it for me, too."

The smile faded from Ron's face.

"What's the point?" he said. "We've got about as much chance of winning the Quidditch Cup this year as Dad's got of becoming Minister of Magic."

"I think your dad would make a great Minister of Magic," I told him. "He'd need a little help with keeping things organized, but he has the energy and enthusiasm for it. Also, he's a really nice guy, so the people would love him."

"In that case," Ron said, "We've got even less chance of winning than Dad's got of becoming Minister of Magic."

I rolled my eyes.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked Harry, who was staring blankly at the opposite wall of the common room while Crookshanks pawed at his hand, trying to get his ears scratched.

"What?" he said quickly. "Nothing."

Which was such a blatant lie that even Ron gave us a knowing look.

Harry seized his copy of Defensive Magical Theory, ignoring Crookshanks, who apparently decided that Harry was unworthy of any further attention and slunk over to me. When I began to pet him, he gave Harry the most smug look I had yet to see.