Department of Misinformation

Jul 30, 2004 01:26

I was looking through some old disks and I found this story. I actually wrote this over a year ago--on the ship, after OotP came out. I was thinking about Dean's line that his parents are Muggles, and they don't know anything because he doesn't tell them. How long had he been playing that game, and had been playing alone?

This hasn't been looked at since over a year ago. I spell-checked it again, but if any of you see anything that needs smoothing out, please let me know. No one else has seen this before, so there hasn't been any sort of beta-reading done on it.

ETA: persephone_kore suggested the title of "Department of Misinformation" which I just love! Thanks again!

Enjoy!

***
There was a great hustle and bustle after Dumbledore's speech. No one at the Gryffindor table noticed the brief exchange of, "Two o'clock?" and the somewhat surprised nod of agreement.

That was how Dean came to be alone, waiting, in the common room. He checked his watch--he was actually five minutes early. He smiled a little--one of the differences between them. She liked for things to run smoothly--everything precise and exactly on time. Dean didn't mind having a little breathing room. He wondered if that would ever change.

He sort of doubted it.

He wasn't quite sure why they still met in secret. In the beginning, it had been necessary. Hermione was so unpopular. It hadn't been very nice of him, he conceded, but he'd wanted to fit in so desperately. And she had been so obsessive about homework, never agreeing to anything until that was safely completed.

Then she made friends with Harry and Ron, so when else could they meet, but late at night? And neither of them minded staying up late or sneaking down after everyone else was asleep. He chuckled aloud recalling the time in first year when he and Hermione had stumbled on the prefects--he still wasn't sure which pair had been more embarrassed.

Second year had been hard for him--Hermione turning herself into a cat--which she'd never fully explained, now that he thought of it--and then the horrid two months near the end of term when she was Petrified. He'd needed her so badly then.

Third year hadn't been much easier, of course. Despite taking all those classes, she still wanted to meet. He felt guilty--she was exhausted and it wasn't like they needed each other so badly anymore. But at the same time, it was nice. She claimed it helped her, too. At least that year, they could meet during the day, since they were both in Ancient Runes and the class often split up in the library. They did a lot of it then, and cut late nights out almost completely.

He almost blew it after her fight with Ron. Even mentioning her cat was taking his life in his hands. He helped her with the Buckbeak research, though, and that warmed her up again.

This year had been easy. Until...

Well.

He wanted her with him while he tried to sort it out. They figured the tough things out together.

Hermione stepped into the room just as his watch clicked two. He wondered for the eighty-seventh time how she managed it.

She smiled and sat next to him on the sofa. "Hi."

"Hi."

"It's not that I mind meeting--you know that--but isn't it a little late? We go home tomorrow, you know."

"Yeah, I know. It's just...I had to sort it out before we leave. And this is something I can't figure out alone."

She nodded immediately. "You're right--I didn't think of that. We'll be seeing our parents straight away--and what do we say?"

"Hermione, I won't lie--my instinct is to just keep quiet."

She didn't say anything.

"I'm not--I don't like deceiving my parents. But I can't see how telling them will benefit."

"They wouldn't understand," she said with great authority.

"And this means so much to us! They can't ask us to give it up."

"They would, though. I don't entirely blame them. I can see where they'd be coming from."

"I know, I can, too! But there's no way that they'll..." He searched for the words.

"See it from our point of view," she finished.

"You always read my mind, Hermione. You should have stayed in Divination."

"Don't start, Dean." But she was smiling.

He sighed. "How did it all get so complicated?"

She shook her head. She seemed tired and almost lost.

"I should let you get back to sleep. I just didn't know what to do."

"No, no, I'm all right. I'm glad you thought of this. I can't very well ask Harry and Ron their opinions."

"Right, and I can't really talk to Seamus about this."

"It's so odd that our closest friends don't really understand this huge part of our lives, isn't it?"

"Just like our parents." He laughed mirthlessly. "Can you imagine seeing them when we step through the barrier, 'Oh, it's been a lovely school year...uneventful...Well, there's a deranged wizard that wants to eliminate all Muggles and Muggle-born, but aside from that...'"

Hermione let out a painful chuckle. "Be a little more subtle than that!"

"That's why I asked for your help. You always toned down my letters home--hit the perfect note to keep my parents from worrying." He smiled faintly. "It was really inconvenient when you were Petrified, you know. I had no idea what to write--and everything in such a panic!"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, what was I thinking?" She was immediately serious again, though. "I have to tell my parents, Dean. Harry's one of my best friends. I just can't keep this from them. It might not be so bad, though. They let me come back after second year, after all."

"My parents don't know about second year. And I'm not fool enough to tell them--about that or about this. I'd be pulled out of Hogwarts faster than a Snitch flies."

"Well, if you change your mind, you have my Muggle address. Not quite as fast as owl, but a letter will reach me."

"Thanks." He looked at his watch. "I believe this is the fastest we've ever finished a letter session."

"Amazing how fast it goes when we don't actually have to write." She yawned and stood up. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," he replied, but sat a few minutes more, rehearsing his story.

Yeah, Hogwarts won the Championship--Cedric and Harry tied, actually. No, the Defense teacher left--they always do, don't they? Yeah, it was kind of a mad year with that Tournament. I'm actually ready for a quiet summer, myself.

fic, fic: harry potter, fandom: harry potter

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