She knew that something was different about Dobby and Winky the past couple of weeks but she had not quite put her finger on it yet. Pushing that thought out of her mind, she called Harry over to the bathroom so he could change. "I'll be right outside if you need anything."
"Thanks." Harry said as he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He quickly realized that he couldn't use his left arm enough to get completely dressed and he was not confident enough that he could pull off a proper switching spell at the moment.
Making sure he was as presentable as possible, Harry opened the door and stuck his head out. "Uh; Hermione? Could you give me a hand please?" he said with a slight blush on his cheeks.
Hermione got up from her chair and headed over to see what Harry needed help with. When she opened the door to the loo, the sight that greeted her caused her to blush scarlet.
Harry was standing there with his shirt only half on and his pants unbuttoned. The blush on his face was threatening to move down to his chest he was so pink. She had seen boys in their swim trunks before but somehow seeing Harry standing there, half dressed, affected her in ways that she hadn't thought about before. Her blush almost matched Harry's when she realized why he had called her into the bathroom.
Silently she stepped up to Harry without saying a word and began fastening the buttons on his clothes. Hermione couldn't help but admire Harry's developing physique as she was finishing up with the buttons on his shirt.
When she was finished helping him dress she left her hands on his chest and put her head on his good shoulder. His skin was warm, and soft, to the touch. Oddly enough, she found that she enjoyed dressing Harry. It was innocent, yet very intimate, and it brought forth a feeling of contentment inside of her.
Harry was trying hard to control his breathing while Hermione was buttoning his shirt. His heart was pounding so hard that he was sure she must have felt it when her fingers brushed against his chest. What he didn't realize was that her heart was fluttering just as much as his was pounding.
With his good arm, he reached up and rubbed her back in thanks, enjoying the quiet, intimate, moment. He hoped that there would be many more of these moments in their future.
Harry had never given much thought to his future before. He was only fourteen and it had seemed so far off. The realization of their bonding began to settle upon him as the days events receded into the background.
The first task had been consuming him and now he understood why Hermione had a slight panic attack earlier in the day. Their futures were tied together in ways that he just could not comprehend completely yet.
Hermione pulled back from Harry's embrace and gave him a small smile. Looping her arm around his waist she said, "Let's head down to the kitchens. You must be starving, and we could use a quiet place to talk."
On cue, Harry's stomach gave a low gurgle and Hermione had to stifle a giggle. However, her stomach decided that food was a good thing too and made a similar noise causing Harry to raise an eyebrow in mock questioning as he laughed along with her.
Harry paused at the entryway, noticing that Ron was no longer lying on the floor. He looked around and saw him on one of the beds farthest away from the door, still unconscious.
Hermione saw Harry's face take on a look of disappointment when he gazed upon Ron. Sensing his discomfort, she said, "Come on. I'm hungry too and he is going to be fine. Madam Poppy Pomfrey said that he should wake in a few hours."
When they reached the portrait of fruit, Hermione tickled the pear to gain entrance to the kitchens. Stepping into the room, they met their two elves. Dobby and Winky ushered them over to a table in the corner and proceeded to bring them the meal that they had been planning for them.
While Harry and Hermione were having a nice meal in the kitchens, Albus Dumbledore was pacing around his office, deep in thought.
Events were unfolding around Harry Potter differently, and much sooner, than he had planned. The Death Eaters were up to something, Dumbledore was sure that one of them had entered Harry into the tournament somehow. It was trying to figure out what they gained by having him in the tournament that troubled him. 'Was it Harry's death or something else that they wanted?' He thought to himself ruefully.
Harry was also another cause for concern. The events of the first task troubled him deeply. ' Was Harry traveling down the same path as Tom Riddle before him?' They had similar backgrounds but there had always been a sense of innocence and wonder around Harry that Tom had always lacked. Now he feared that those traits were leaving Harry and the new ones were very troubling.
Taking a life should always be a last resort in Albus' mind. Harry had now added another body to his count and he did not seem too bothered by it. He did not fault Harry for the basilisk, they were horrible creatures and not easily controlled.
Quirell's death saddened him because he felt that he could have saved him from possession by Voldemort. The damage that Harry had done to Quirell's body had been so severe that it destroyed any chance for survival when the pain forced the spirit of Voldemort out.
Albus had never forgiven himself for the death of his younger sister, Ariana. That was why he refused to kill, even in self-defense, and why Harry's actions troubled him so much. After all, his defeat of Grindlewald was proof that you could defeat a dark wizard without resorting to killing. Grindlewald was in Germany, incarcerated at Nurmengard, serving a life sentence since his capture at Dumbledore's hands.
Because of his capture of Grindlewald, Dumbledore never considered that putting people in Azkaban for life was worse than killing someone instead. Yes, he knew that Dementors drove the inmates insane and eventually led to a slow and agonizing death but he put that out of his mind.
He had ordered others on missions where he knew that they would have to kill. As long as he did not perform the deed, it allowed him the illusion that his hands were clean.
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