Arienne was a very quiet girl, Harry found. They had finished their meals without any further comment, then gone their ways. He hadn’t seen her again until the following day, when he’d sat down in the Gryffindor common room to read his Defense textbook.
She had sat right next to him… and opened up her own Defense textbook to read, though not without glancing over the top every so often. The company was oddly comforting, even if they didn’t speak to one another.
The same thing happened on Sunday, when she also joined him and Hermione at dinner.
This quickly became a pattern. They would stay silent, but every evening, she would sit next to Harry to do her homework or whatever, and at what rapidly became every meal (at least in part because Harry started picking the seats next to her whenever she got there first), she would do the same. For some reason, she always seemed to be calmer, and less paranoid, when she knew he was there.
Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to… ‘fade away’. At first, she joined Harry in just about every study session, and every meal. But then, she started to miss them every once in a while, and eventually stopped coming at all.
Another pattern Harry noticed was related to the two classes he had with the regular Professors: Defense Against the Dark Arts… and Potions. The former was taught by Professor Quirrell, and it was- if he was being honest with himself- a bit of a joke. Quirrell was evidently afraid of his subject, and Harry wouldn’t be surprised if he was told the man had no idea what he was supposed to be teaching.
Potions wasn’t much better, but Harry got the idea it was the opposite problem. Professor Severus Snape was definitely unafraid of his subject, definitely knew he was supposed to be teaching Potions, and was a registered Potions Master as well- one of the best there was, actually. On the other hand, he was very short-tempered- especially around Harry, he noticed- and his classes amounted to little more than supervised self-study.
That wasn’t to say that his assignment to their classes didn’t confuse him, though, because it did: He wasn’t a Student Instructor at all, let alone of both subjects, so why wasn’t he studying under the Student Instructors like in all his other classes?
A little over a month later, while Harry was working on his History homework, Arienne started writing what was presumably a letter to her family. Harry made it a point not to look when she did that, as usual- but her emotions tended to be a lot more colorful when she was writing those letters, so it was rare that he could stop himself from glancing sideways at it as she wrote. It didn’t exactly help that she often didn’t seem even the slightest bit worried about him seeing what she was writing, often leaving the entire thing in clear view.
The same was true for the replies she regularly got at breakfast- roughly every four days, Harry noticed. Most of the time, she’d write and send an answer on the evening of the same day that she had received a letter, but sometimes she did it a day later… and sometimes it had a five-day turnaround instead of four, suggesting her family did the same thing.
And of course, no thanks to Dudley ripping books out of his hands so frequently, Harry was what many would call a ‘speed reader’- possibly even an olympic speed reader, if it was an olympic sport. He could read entire pages in seconds!
Well… sorta. It took longer than that to actually absorb the information, but he didn’t need to see the page for any longer to be able to read it. As a matter of fact, all it took was a brief glance and he could get at least the general gist of a passage- skim it, so to speak.
Yet, even with that speed-reading ability… he wasn’t all that great at history. She was much better than him- or at least, much faster. Her assignments almost never matched his, since they attended different classes with- he assumed, at least- different Instructors.
Still… her letter. Letters, really- he often found himself guiltily aware of basically everything she was writing to her family, and everything they wrote back. Over the last few weeks, she’d been informing her mom- she usually addressed it to ‘Mom’, and the answers were usually signed ‘Vanessa’- of the developing bullying situation in her dormitory. Exactly as Harry had expected, the other students had noticed her nervous behavior, and she’d quickly started getting bullied for it.
She was also getting bullied for being Harry’s friend- a designation that she evidently didn’t believe applied. ‘We’re just acquaintances and have never spoken’, she would frequently remind her mom- who just as frequently referred to Harry as her friend.
Harry, on the other hand, would have to agree with her mom. They may not have spoken, but their silent friendship was definitely a friendship, unaffected by the silence. They offered each other their mutual support- and, if he’d had any idea what love was, he might have even called it love and support.
The tone of her letter was much… darker today, though, as were her emotions. It seemed at first like she’d just had a bad day- but then she described what had happened when a few normal-hairs (what she had taken to calling the British students) had walked in on her practicing ballet in an empty classroom.
Well… ‘walked in on’. She’d locked the door, but these students had apparently known she would be there, and had used magic to unlock the door.
Her dance outfit had been ruined by ink splatters and splitting spells. Her robes had been as well- but at least they’d only gotten one of her outfits, and hadn’t discovered the Invisibility Cloak she’d hidden under a false bottom in her bag- the cloak she’d taken from the assassin that had tried to kill her on her second day of classes. They had even smashed the large folding mirror she’d been using!
Once they had left, she had cleaned up as best as she could and returned to her dormitory, naked except for the invisibility cloak. The magical shampoo in the showers had been able to get the ink out of her hair without any difficulty, and once she’d dressed herself in a fresh set of robes, she’d hunted down a Professor to tell them about it… but no luck. Professor Snape seemed to believe she was making it up, even when she showed him the ruined clothing in her bag. He had deducted points from her for a false accusation, and she informed her mom that she’d been lucky not to get a detention.
Harry had to resist putting an arm around her. He wanted to- but they had never touched, even fingertip to fingertip, and even he knew that an arm across the shoulders was way too intimate for the first touch.
But he didn’t know of any other way he could support her.
No, wait, maybe he did. He’d have to ask his house-elf about the options, but he was sure he could provide her with a place to do that practice without even the possibility of someone ‘walking in’ on her.
Not even an assassin.
Hopefully he could provide that place outside of his own Lord’s Quarters; just like hugging her would be too intimate, he was fairly certain that inviting her into his private quarters would also be too far.
So that night, he asked Blinky- Harry’s house-elf, Slinky, was far too glum all the time- if there was someplace that fit the bill… and had received an answer. A quite elaborate and well-fitting answer, he thought.
The next day, he wrote down instructions to get into the Room of Requirement and slid them surreptitiously to Arienne’s side of the table while they were doing homework during a shared morning period. He wasn’t sure if there would be a problem with assassins there, but presumably she could make that determination.
It took her several minutes to notice, then another minute to read the note- before he could feel her stare on the side of his head.
That day, at dinner, she surprised him. She showed up after he did, as usual- but quite the opposite of usual, she was positively jubilant. She pranced right up to him, hugged him, and kissed him, before she cheerfully sat next to him to start getting her meal.
Harry chuckled softly. Presumably, she’d found exactly what Blinky had told him she’d find in the Room of Requirement: Exactly what she needed. And apparently, she’d been lacking it- whatever it was- for far too long, resulting in her excitement when she finally found it- and apparent thankfulness.
He looked down at her, and found that she was blushing furiously and quite clearly not looking at him- evidently afraid she’d gone too far.
His first thought was to resist his first instinct- but no, she’d just hugged and kissed him, so it shouldn’t be too weird for him to return the favor, should it?
So he did. He set an arm gently around her shoulders and squoze just as gently. He could feel her tense up at the touch- but after a second, she leaned into his embrace.
The next thing he did surprised even him.
He kissed the top of her head.
She stiffened in response, but didn’t draw back for several seconds- and when she did, he was surprised to find tears in her eyes.
Had he touched a nerve? Had that been a huge mistake?
But she didn’t seem to hate him for it. They ate in silence, as per usual- completely ignoring all the whisperers going wild at the interaction. When they finished their meals, they headed back up to the Gryffindor common room together, as per usual- though… perhaps not quite as usual, since Arienne didn’t usually tentatively take his hand in hers as they left the Great Hall.
He allowed it, surprised by the gesture after the apparent faux pas of kissing her hair, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze to show his appreciation for her acceptance of his blunder.
--------
Three days after their first touch, they were once again eating breakfast together when Arienne’s owl showed up with her mother’s response. Ever since that dinner, Arienne hadn’t just sat next to him in the common room- she’d sat against him, once even snuggled up under his arm. Whatever blunder he might have made seemed to have been forgiven, and then some, but he was still at a loss for why she was so suddenly so attached to him. He’d refrained from pushing his luck at first- but quickly capitulated and just gone with his instinct.
Every time he kissed her hair, which he frequently did when she tucked herself into his side, she would always hug him tightly. She seemed to enjoy it, rather than being bothered.
Harry could feel her emotions getting mixed as she accepted the envelope from her owl and opened it, and put his arm around her shoulders. She was undoubtedly thinking about what she’d told her mom just four days before.
She finally unfolded the letter. Harry focused carefully on his food, trying- once again- to avoid prying into her private business.
His attention was drawn, however, when she let out a soft gasp of evident horror.
He abandoned his food and hugged her while he peeked at the letter.
Her mom… seemed unconcerned about her well being. She hadn’t even mentioned the attack, nor the damaged clothing from it, and had merely encouraged Arienne to keep up her practice no matter what people said about it.
He felt his own horror at the apparent lack of care from her own mother, and kissed her hair. That always seemed to calm her down.
It worked, a little. She leaned into him, hugged him, and took long, deep calming breaths as she suppressed the tears that evidently wanted to flow.
That evening, she penned a very different letter to a masculine-sounding name that Harry didn’t recognize. It also seemed to be a very formulaic letter- almost a form letter.
She informed them that she had just told her mother that she had been physically attacked and requested to be withdrawn from Hogwarts for her own protection, and her mother’s only answer had been to encourage her to ignore the people talking behind her back. She specified that it made no sense and asked him to investigate. She requested to be either withdrawn from Hogwarts or provided with appropriate protection against the bullying of the other students.
And finally, she signed it Princess Abigail Fox. That was the name of the Royal Princess, first in line for the Crown.
She read it through once, folded it up, and left to send it.
When she got back, Harry wasn’t surprised to see tears in her eyes, nor that she immediately curled up into his side. He hugged her close and kissed her hair again.
Half an hour later, he was surprised to find that she had fallen asleep leaning against his side. He chuckled softly and draped his cloak over her, but let her sleep on.
Five minutes after that, Hermione wandered over, and sat gently on the other end of the sofa- on Harry’s left side, opposite Arienne on his right. “Is- Is she okay?” she asked softly.
Arienne stirred slightly when Hermione sat down, but otherwise didn’t react at all.
Harry sighed. “She seems to be doing better these last few days,” he observed, “but she just got a… very worrying letter from her mom. I hope it’s a misunderstanding.”
She sighed. “I… haven’t been helping, have I?”
He chuckled softly. “Judging by her letters, she’s unnerved by your attention, but thankful for the way you’ve been protecting her from the bullies. What have you been doing?”
She blushed. “Well… I heard a few rumors a couple weeks back- someone…” She paused, glancing around for evesdroppers, and leaned in close. “Someone said she looked like Princess Abagail Fox, Heiress Presumptive to the Crown of the United Kingdom, after her mother became Queen from her grandfather’s… untimely death.”
Harry silently raised an eyebrow.
“I silenced it, of course,” Hermione informed him. “Nobody needs that hanging over their head at Hogwarts, whether it’s true or not. I set a geas on the Castle to make people keep any recognition of royalty to themselves, and disbelieve that recognition to begin with. But…” She sighed. “I’ve also been looking into it at the same time. It didn’t exactly help she already had my attention; I’m particularly sensitive to magical signatures, and hers isn’t quite like anyone else’s. Just like how yours is pretty unique, but… in a different way, if you know what I mean.” She looked at him.
He shrugged.
“Well… as near as I can tell, that rumor was actually true. Which means I’ve probably been protecting her in ways that even I can’t imagine, through that geas.” She sighed. “No luck on figuring out what the differences in magical signatures are, by the way; I guess I’m just going to have to wait and see if it shows itself.” She paused. “And on the topic of the assassins… I wonder what happened. I’ve noticed a few invisible magic signatures moving around the castle as well, but none of them seemed hostile.”
“Any idea who?”
She shook her head. “Most people’s signatures are close enough to each other that I can’t tell them apart by magic signature alone. That said, she seems to be one of the invisible ones herself.”
Harry smiled. “She took an Invisibility Cloak off of the assassin that attacked her on her second day of classes,” he informed her. “She’d almost have to be stupid to not use it.”
He wasn’t sure, but it almost felt like Arienne giggled silently when he said that.
“Fair,” Hermione agreed, then sighed. “That also explains why she’s been invisible while she slept a few times.” She scowled. “On the other hand, she hasn’t slept in the dormitory at all the last couple days- and her trunk has disappeared as well. You haven’t… taken her in, have you?”
Harry chuckled. “No, I haven’t. I’d hazard a guess she’s been using the Room of Requirement for more than ballet practice.”
“Ballet?” Hermione mused, then looked across the room, staring into space. “Hmm. I’d like to try that at some point.”
There was no mistaking it. Arienne definitely giggled silently this time- she was almost certainly awake and listening to their conversation, merely pretending to sleep.
Which meant there were a few questions he needed to ask Hermione; she didn’t seem to have the same strange, intrinsic knowledge of magic that Hailey had, but she definitely knew a lot about magic, or at least was very smart.
Harry, for example, had never even heard of a geas, yet here Hermione had cast one on the whole castle?
“Maybe I’ll watch,” Harry informed Hermione. “I don’t think I even know what it is very well, right now. But…” He paused. “If I was going to… ahh, take her in, that’d basically force me to do the same for her entire family, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah, right about,” Hermione nodded. “Taking in only one member of the House… Especially since she’s the oldest muggleborn in her family, that makes her the head of her Magical House, regardless of her status in her non-magical House. Protecting her but not her sister would tell the magical world that her sister was unworthy… and your House is powerful enough that there are many that would kill her sister for such unworthiness, whether it was true or not.”
“Monsters,” Harry labeled.
“Every bit,” Hermione promptly agreed.
He glanced at Arienne. “This… doesn’t count, does it?”
“No. Right now, it just looks like a personal friendship, not the Protection of the House.”
“So-!” Harry began, and sighed. “You mentioned that… geas thing. Could that be why nobody calls me by my proper titles?”
Hermione sighed. “Quite possibly, but I don’t know. ‘Geas’ is a term used to describe low-level mind control. It doesn’t really… control so much as suggest, but a geas can keep people from mentioning certain information, for example. It’s not strong enough to force someone to go against their principles, though, and generally can’t push you to act, only to not act, or perhaps change an act in a small way- for example, calling you ‘mister’ instead of Pr-!” She choked suddenly, coughed, and took a deep, snarling breath. “Okay, correction, definitely yes. The Hogwarts wards are incredibly complex and difficult to understand, and geas are already vague to begin with- so while I know there’s already at least one geas layer to Hogwarts’ wards before I added mine, I can’t tell what it does, merely that it’s far too powerful for me to even interfere with. But someone’s paired it with a choke taboo for calling you by your proper titles!” She took a deep breath. “When I find out who did that, I will have their head.”
“And I’ll serve it to you,” Harry offered. “When I find out who did that, I’ll probably find out about some far more heinous deeds as well.”
“... True.” She flopped back on the sofa. “I had a… funny response from my parents as well this morning, like an entire section of my letter had just gone missing.” She snorted. “They mentioned it, of course, because I used a numbered list, and apparently it skipped a few numbers.” She sighed. “Anyways, I got to digging and I think someone’s tampered with the school owls as well.”
“What about personal owls?”
She heaved a sigh. “Unfortunately, I can’t rule that out. Can’t prove or reverse it either, without some very invasive magic involving those owls’ bonded owners.”
“Would that tampering…?”
“Yes, that tampering would work by way of similarly invasive magic involving the bonded owner. I’m able to examine the school owls’ bonds because they’re bonded to Hogwarts, and as a student of Hogwarts, I’m technically a representative of the school, making me a party to their ownership bonds, which…” She trailed off. “It gets really complicated really fast when you start talking about familiars that bond with institutions. And no, the owner wouldn’t have to be awake for it, but if you are awake, it’s basically impossible to do without permission.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Which means that, since only I and those I choose to allow can enter my Lord’s Quarters…”
“Yes, Hedwig is almost certainly free of that tampering. As for all the rest… No idea.” She sighed. “Ron will be returning to the Castle tonight,” she informed him darkly.
He shrugged. “Just one more assassin,” he observed, “and quite a visible one, at that.” He sighed. “So… how would you seal a letter such that only the recipient could read it, when that recipient was, say, a muggle?”
Hermione rubbed her chin. “Hmm,” she muttered, then turned and started digging in her bag. “There’s a fair few spells we can use that’ll secure it against a wizard, though keying it for a muggle to open is a little trickier.”
Arienne lifted her head, adjusted her position against Harry’s side, and silently kissed his cheek in evident thanks. He was a little alarmed, though not at all surprised, to see a searing rage burning in her eyes, firmly contained.
“Ahh, here we go,” Hermione finally finished, returning from her bag with a large book from the library. “Magical Security for Every Occasion, by Istanza Lockhart. Now we just need chapter eighteen, messages in transit.” She turned to the chapter, then flicked a couple more pages. “For owl mail… if the recipient cannot be expected to be able to use magic… Here we go.” She read off the eight different spells and the variations used. “If you use all of those together, you’ll get a quite formidable defense that’s basically impossible to breach.”
Arienne reached over and clasped her hands around Hermione’s- the one she was tracing across the page.
Hermione looked up. “Is-!” She froze, then blinked. “A-Arienne!?” she gasped. “Y-You’re awake!?”
“Teach me,” Arienne half-pleaded, half-demanded.
“Ahh-! Um-!” She paused and looked back down at the book. “A-Alright, I can try. I’ve never used any of these myself, though, so chances are we’ll be learning together.”
Harry chuckled softly.
--------
The following morning, he sat next to Arienne at breakfast, as per usual.
A few minutes later, and slightly less usual, Ron appeared and claimed the seat next to Harry. “Morning,” he greeted.
Harry ignored him. Arienne didn’t- Harry noticed her sideways glance, and had to wonder if she knew who he was. She had to have heard about his… altercation on the first day of classes..
Rather predictably, Ron wasn’t satisfied with being ignored; he was completely ignoring Arienne. “Harry?” he asked. “Why are you ignoring me?”
Harry raised an eyebrow and turned to look at him. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
Ron shrugged. “I’m Ron,” he said. “Your best friend. Remember?”
Harry snorted, though quite aware of Arienne’s sudden stillness. “You must be mistaken,” he informed Ron. “I have no idea who you are, and my best friend is sitting on my other side.”
“What, you mean her?” Ron made the pronoun an obscenity.
Harry sighed, doing his best to keep the anger that sparked from his voice. “And what business do you have with who my friends are?”
“Because I’m your best-!”
“C’mere, Ronnikins.”
The Weasley Twins had arrived. They each seized one of Ron’s arms, then hoisted him straight out of his chair and began dragging him down the Great Hall away from Harry. He hadn’t even started getting any food. “Our apologies, Harry, we’ll straighten him out,” one of them called back as they retreated.
Harry sighed. “I hope it helps,” he muttered.
Arienne sighed, watching Ron go, and nodded faintly in agreement.
--------
It seemed to. Ron didn’t bother Harry all day- nor even the next day. On the third day, Friday, Harry overheard someone saying Ron had been down in the dungeons, hammering out a new medal under Filch’s watchful eye, moments before the mail arrived.
When it did arrive, Arienne wasn’t the only one to get a letter. Hedwig also joined them, carrying a letter for Harry. Harry traded some bacon with Hedwig for the letter, then opened and read it.
It was his Aunt Petunia. She missed Hailey, but had been getting along alright. She’d also apparently been contacted by Dudley’s foster parents and, after being allowed to visit her son, been suggested for counseling. She had done that; the counselor was helping her to understand exactly what she’d done wrong with Dudley, and how to overcome both that and her grief. According to the letter, even though she’d only been to two sessions so far, she felt the counseling was doing her a world of good- and she was discussing a possible joint Christmas vacation with Dudley’s foster parents. It would be mostly on her money; Vernon’s life insurance check, combined with the ownership of his company being given to her in his Will, had made her a millionaire for life.
She had one request for Hailey, though. As much as she dearly wanted to see Hailey, she had the funny feeling that putting her in the same room as Dudley would be a very bad idea at this stage; Dudley’s counseling didn’t seem to be going as well as her own, judging by the info his foster parents had given her. As such, and with a full, quite wordy apology, she was asking Hailey if she could arrange to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays.
Even with his reading speed, though, Harry only barely had time to fully comprehend the content of Petunia’s letter before Arienne gasped, staring at her letter in alarm.
He immediately put his arm around her shoulders and looked at it as well, remembering the… worrying content of her last outbound letter.
The letter was written in a very formal style, and signed with the same male name she’d addressed the last one to. He had directly informed Arienne that the letter he had received seemed… malformed, to the point where he had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t the one that had written it. As such, he wasn’t going to take any major actions based on it- though he had asked the Queen about her claim of mentioning harm being done to her. Apparently, the Queen had been alarmed, saying she hadn’t read anything of the sort- and wanted to know if it was possible that the letters were being tampered with or replaced.
That much, Harry thought, had to have been expected, after Hermione’s report so shortly after Arienne had sent her letter. And it matched; Arienne hadn’t had that reaction quickly after opening it, only after she’d had time to continue to the end of the letter.
The end of the letter… where the man, with the Queen’s support, asserted that Hogwarts would be the best place for her, guards or not, and they would therefore not be bringing her home. He even expressed his confidence that she could handle the ‘invisible assassins’ herself.
He let out a soft sigh when he finished, then kissed her hair.
She relaxed, somewhat, while letting out a sigh of her own. She folded and pocketed the letter, then wrapped her arm around Harry as well, returning the hug.
Then Harry turned to his other side, where Hermione was watching them curiously. He had an idea for what could have caused that. “Hermione, is it possible a geas could cause muggles to ignore dangers to their magical children?”
Arienne took a sudden, sharp breath, evidently coming to the same conclusion he had.
“Possible?” Hermione blinked. “Um, yes, quite. It’s common knowledge in wizarding families- known as the ‘Magic Likes to be Learned’ effect. Basically, for whatever reason, magic itself acts like a geas to force muggles to send their muggleborn children to magic school, without regard for the safety and security- or lack thereof- of the school.” She sighed. “And it does that worldwide, with all magic schools. It can cause them to neglect to take safety-promoting actions, even, but won’t stop them from picking a safer school.”
“Will it stop them from, ahh, promoting safety by sending guards?”
She sighed. “Most magic schools have extensive anti-muggle warding that would keep those guards from being able to do their jobs, and the Learned Effect seems to take that into account in suppressing muggle bodyguards and the like.”
Arienne sighed and shook her head. She then drew a handful of papers from an inside pocket on her robes- the long and heavily detailed letter she’d been working on over the last four days- and opened it. She added one last detail at the end with her pen and finished the interesting numbering and counting scheme she’d been using to make the letter ‘tamper evident’, then made the same adjustments to the identical copy she’d made along with it. Finally, she pocketed the copy, cast the letter sealing charm she’d been studying with Hermione, and offered it to Hedwig; her owl had already left. As she did so, she looked up at Harry, as if asking for permission.
Harry chuckled softly and nodded.
This letter was… quite amusing. She’d described basically her entire Hogwarts career in it- and told her mother that Harry felt… motherly towards her, rather than the fatherly that she might expect. She’d described the conversation four days ago, and her work with the letter sealing magic. She’d described all of her troubles- and what she’d found in the Room of Requirement. Apparently, while it didn’t provide her with clothes, it provided her with a proper ballet room, karate studio, magical practice chambers she’d been using with Hermione in her letter sealing studies, and so much more- all the way down to a bedroom that she could be reasonably sure the assassins could not follow her into.
She even discussed Harry’s implicit offer to ‘take her in’ to his protection, what it would mean in the magical world even without her own status, and requested her mother’s permission for him to do exactly that.
Hedwig finished her snack, accepted the letter, and left.
--------
That evening, Harry was just finishing packing up his bag in anticipation of Arienne’s arrival when she arrived. That was pretty typical, anymore; the last few days, rather than meeting him for dinner in the Great Hall, she ran up to the Gryffindor common room to meet him and walk back down with him. She was able to do that when his class ran late instead of hers because he always returned to his Quarters to drop off his books before dinner. He’d quickly adjusted to her desire, and started waiting for her too.
She made it most of the way to his sofa before Ron stepped suddenly out of the crowd… and slugged her, right on the side of the head. She tried to evade, but wasn’t fast enough, and fell to the floor, unmoving.
Harry whipped the last book back out of his bag and threw it, with all his might, straight at Ron.
“How dare you steal Harry’s friend-!” Ron began- before Harry’s Defense textbook struck the side of his head, and he also went down like a sack of hammers.
“Don’t you dare attack my friends,” Harry snarled, as he stormed over- only to find that both of them were unconscious.
Hermione rushed over as well, drawing her wand and tapping it on Arienne. “Damn,” she muttered.
“What is it?” Harry demanded.
“Concussion,” she informed him. “And he knocked her out, so waking her up would be… dangerous.”
He let out a soft sigh, then scooped Arienne up and left the common room.
Hermione followed him, closing the Portrait Hole behind them both and held her silence until they were around halfway to the Hospital Wing.
“Um… Harry?” she offered slowly.
“Mm?” he asked, not slowing his pace at all.
“I’m… not entirely sure, but people could think that this means she has your protection.”
He sighed. “Then I might as well properly offer her that protection. She asked her mom for permission for me to do exactly that in the letter she sent today- and with the Room of Requirement in play, it won’t be hard to maintain the appearance of that protection before the response arrives.”