Author's Note: This is the sequel to "Again". It's a continuation of the story. I hope to make this a three-part series. This will have both action, romance, and fluff (of course)! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: You know the drill….these characters are not mine…they belong to the fabulous J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books, etc…they are not mine, however much I wish they were…they are not…yada, yada, yada….
My Sacrifice
Chapter One
"When you are with me I'm free
I'm careless, I believe
Above all the others we'll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
Cause when you are with me I am free
I'm careless, I believe
Above all the others we'll fly
This brings tears to my eyes
My Sacrifice, My Sacrifice"
Wormtail walked apprehensively toward the back on the abandoned house where he, Voldemort, and a handful of the Dark Lord's most loyal Death Eaters had taken up residence. They'd been holed up in this house since the disastrous attempt to find the prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. They'd kept a low profile, laying low and plotting and planning their next step.
At the moment, Wormtail was quite nervous as he made his way down the dimly lit corridor. He had news for Voldemort that would probably not go over too well. Wormtail had learned the hard way that being the bearer of bad news to Voldemort could be and had been hazardous to his health, to say the very least.
When he finally made it to the room Voldemort had claimed as his own, Wormtail tried to catch his breath and quit his hand from trembling. He had to go in there somewhat in control of his emotions. Voldemort could smell weakness a mile away. Before knocking on the door, he said a silent prayer that things would go okay.
"Come in," came a cold, hoarse voice from behind the door.
Wormtail again took a deep breath as he turned the doorknob and walked into the room. It was dark, save for the two candles on the desk where Voldemort was sitting. He was hunched over the desk, thumbing through a newspaper. When Wormtail got closer to him, he noticed it was The Daily Prophet.
"I sent for you over two hours ago, Wormtail," Voldemort said, in a voice that barely rose above the octave of a whisper. He didn't look up as he talked; he just continued to thumb through the newspaper.
"I-I, I know, master," Wormtail stammered, as he sat down directly across from Voldemort. "I have some news on Potter, sir."
Voldemort rolled his eyes and sighed impatiently as watched Wormtail fidget uncomfortably in his chair. "Tell me what you've heard."
Wormtail hesitated only a second before beginning to tell his story.
"The m-mm-mudblood has returned to school," he said. "She arrived back a couple of days ago."
"That's your big news? Do you think I could care less that a mudblood returned to Hogwarts?" Voldemort said, and with that he slammed his fist down angrily on the desk. Wormtail nearly jumped out of his chair.
"I asked you to get me news on Potter and this is what you come back with? I don't care about Potter's friends. They are of no concern to me. I want to know about Potter."
"Apparently his relationship with her has changed. She seems to now be his girlfriend," Wormtail said softly.
"Isn't that sweet?" Voldemort said, sarcastically. "The Boy Who Lived has finally found love. What a wonderful fairy tale!"
"You know how much help that she's been to him over the years, my lord. You know how she's the top of her class? I would think that her return gives Potter an added advantage."
Voldemort laughed. "You think that I'm afraid of some Mudblood trash? I have defeated some of the most powerful wizards and witches in the world. I have the entire wizarding community on edge with just the idea of my return!" His red, snakelike eyes were practically gleaming with rage and anger.
Wormtail cowered in his chair, his knees and hands were shaking almost violently.
"I didn't mean to imply that you, I mean," Wormtail stammered.
"Quit sniveling," Voldemort thundered at him. He arose from his chair and began pacing back and forth in front of the desk. "Your weakness sickens me. You are such a weak, pathetic person, do you realize that?"
"I'm sorry," Wormtail said softly. "I don't know what you want me to do. I'm sorry."
"SHUT UP!"
For what seemed like an eternity, he just stood there, staring down at Wormtail, his eyes cold and unwelcoming. His stare steely and full of hate and distaste. Wormtail sat there, looking down at the floor, worried beyond belief that he wouldn't make it out of the house alive. To his amazement, though, Voldemort began to laugh.
"What is it?" Wormtail said, finally summoning the courage to look up at his master. "What are you going to do?"
"You've given me a great idea, Wormtail," Voldemort said hoarsely. "Mr. Potter's friends have always been his weakness. His friendship with the mudblood and the Weasley boy has been his saving grace, haven't they? What if he was put in the horrible position of having to choose which one to save, and which one to let die?"
"What?" Wormtail asked.
"You are a complete and utter waste of space! Do you realize that? Honestly, I don't even know why I keep you around! It certainly isn't for your wit or keen intellect! You have the intelligence of a pebble!"
Wormtail gulped.
"What we'll do is put Potter in a situation where he has to choose between his girlfriend and his best friend. Which one will he save? Hell, for good measure, we'll even add a third element that will blow him right out of the water! Yes, I can see it all coming together. What will he do? The possibilities are endless!"
"Who's this third element, sir?"
"All in due time, Wormtail," Voldemort said, his eyes shining. "It's too delicious to spoil the surprise just yet. You'll now in good time. They all will. Then, it will be too late."
Meanwhile, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter were blissfully unaware of the plan that Voldemort had just hatched. They had spent the past few days, reveling in each other's company. They were content just to spend time together. Both of them were about as happy as they'd ever been in their lives, or at the very least, as happy as either of them had been in months.
Hermione was happily ensconced in her assignments. She was absolutely giddy about her extra classes and course work. Harry had joked with her that she was the only person he'd ever seen get so excited about catching up on assignments. Despite his joking, he could tell she was in her element. She thrived under pressure and loved to rise to the occasion of a challenge. So far, she seemed to be adjusting well to her return. Everything seemed to slowly be returning to normal, or at least as normal as they could possibly be under the circumstances.
There was one thing that put a dark cloud on all of it, however. Ron. He'd given both Harry and Hermione the silent treatment for days now. On the occasions that they were forced to spend time together-namely classes and meals---Ron sat away from them and usually shot them scornful looks.
Truth be told, they all missed each other. They had been through so much together that it seemed something as ridiculous as this would tear them apart. Everyone had warned them that something like this would happen, that something like this was bound to happen. The three of them had denied it, of course, but here it was. It had played out as everyone said it would.
Although Hermione had been upset to hear that Harry hadn't been truthful with Ron about what he'd been doing, she understood his reasoning behind it all. She could also understand why Ron was so upset. What she couldn't fathom, though, was why this was breaking up their friendship. What she wanted most to do was get them together in a room and have a good talking out about the whole thing. If everything was aired out, maybe the healing could begin. Things might not be like they were, but at least they'd be better than they were now.
Part of her wished that things could be simpler like they'd been when they were 11 years old. Feelings and emotions didn't cloud your judgment so much then. Or if they did, she didn't remember it. She couldn't stop time, though. Things had changed. They had all grown up. With that came changes in feelings and the way you looked at a person.
Part of her also knew that she wouldn't change a thing about it. She was in love with a wonderful boy who loved her back. It was a wonderful feeling. She prayed that in time, Ron would get past this and he'd let bygones be bygones. He'd been angry at Harry and her many times in the past, and vice versa. That was just part of friendships. There would be fights. There would be misunderstandings. If the friendship was strong enough, you found away to get past it and move on.
She'd told Harry that they just had to give Ron time and space to sort this out for himself. He'd come around, she told him. Yet, every time that she saw him, he'd roll his eyes or stomp out of the room. Hermione honestly couldn't ever remember seeing Ron so hurt and upset. With each passing day, it seemed less likely that Ron would get over this. Time wasn't healing his wounds and it certainly wasn't repairing the rift in the friendship between the trio-the Dream Team as some called them. If anything, it was only drawing Harry and Hermione closer together and driving Ron further and further away.
Ron hadn't wavered from his self-imposed schedule. He had never been an early riser, but in order to avoid Harry, he'd taken to setting his alarm clock to go off a good thirty minutes before Harry's. By the time Harry awoke each morning, he'd found Ron had already made his bed and made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. They had begun to treat each other as strangers instead of the best friends that they'd been.
Seamus, Dean and Neville were seemingly caught in the middle. They'd each refused to take sides and had served as a sort of neutral Switzerland in the Great War, as they'd each begun to call it. Yet, it wasn't a war of battles or words, it was one of silence. It was almost as if it was a challenge to see who could shoot the other the most menacing and scornful looks. Who could hold out from speaking to the other the longest? The rules were unspoken, but the message was undoubtedly clear. This wouldn't be a problem that would be swept under the rug anytime soon. This problem had dug its heels in and was refusing to budge.
Harry hated this more than he'd ever confess to anyone. Ron was his friend; the first real friend his own age that he'd ever had. He hated the distance that had grown between them in such a short time, but he couldn't help also feeling somewhat angry toward his friend. He was being childish. Why couldn't he just get over this? It wasn't as if I did any of this on purpose, Harry thought to himself. It just happened.
Harry quickly took his shower and dressed and headed down to the Great Hall. He walked into the room thinking that he wouldn't see Hermione. She'd had to attend early morning sessions with McGonagall and Flitwick. In the afternoons, she had to attend potions with Snape, which she'd privately told Harry she enjoyed about as much as getting her teeth drilled without Novocain.
When he saw her, he noticed that she was seated away from the rest of their friends, namely because she was pored over a book and busily scribbling some notes on her parchment paper. She had a bowl of untouched oatmeal beside her, as well as a glass of orange juice. A few seats down from her sat the usual crowd of Gryffindors, including Seamus, Dean, Neville, Ron, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. When Ron saw Harry come in, he pointedly looked at him disdainfully and then quickly looked away. Harry rolled his eyes and made his way past them to sit beside Hermione.
She was so engrossed in her book, she didn't see him approach.
"Good morning, sunshine," Harry said, with a laugh.
She didn't say anything.
"So, I was thinking that I would quit school and join the monastery. I know it sounds like a leap, but I actually
like the solitude and sanctuary of it. The celibacy thing, though, could present a bit of a problem," he said,
looking at her sideways.
"Good morning, Harry," she said sweetly, a smile playing at her lips. "I hate to break this to you, but
I don't think you have it in you to be a monk."
"Ah-ha! You were listening," he said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
She finally looked up from her work and smiled at him.
"So, how was your morning lesson?" he asked her. He still couldn't see how she was coping with this busy schedule she'd been put on since she'd returned.
"It was alright," she said, watching as he took a swig from his glass of orange juice. "I do have a bit of good news, though."
"What's that?" he asked her, digging into his own bowl of oatmeal.
"I have the afternoon off," she said, looking pointedly at him. "Snape has a staff meeting this afternoon and so that leaves me completely free this afternoon."
"You know," he began, "it just so happens that I don't have practice this afternoon. So, I guess that I, too, have a free afternoon."
"What were you planning to do with this free time of yours, Harry?" she asked him, a twinkle in her eye.
"Oh, I thought I'd catch up on some of my reading," he said, trying to simultaneously not look at her and laugh at the same time. The next thing he knew, she'd playfully punched him on the arm.
"Ouch," he said. "I take it you don't want me to catch up on my reading, then? I honestly never thought I'd see the day when you'd be encouraging me to exhibit deviant behavior, Miss Granger. I am amazed and appalled at you!"
She gave him a look of mock indignation. "I'm not encouraging deviant behavior, per se. I'm just advocating that you use this unexpected free time wisely by spending time with your girlfriend, that's all."
"Well, when you put it that way," he said, smiling at her. "How about a walk around the lake?"
"Perfect," she said. "I can't wait."
He beamed at her. "Have I told you lately how glad I am to have you back here?"
"Yes you have," she said, 'but I wouldn't mind hearing it again."
He laughed and watched as she took a few quick bites of her oatmeal and then hurriedly placed her books, parchment and quill into her bag. She stood up from her seat, but Harry grabbed her hand.
"Where are you off to?"
"Well, I have to turn some assignments into Professor McGonagall. I'll see you in Flitwick's class, okay?"
With that, she leaned down and gave him a quick kiss before departing. Harry smiled as he watched her leave. As he did, he caught Ron's eye who was looking down the table at him. Ron held his stare for a second before angrily shaking his head at Harry in disbelief.
When Harry turned his head back around to finish his breakfast, he saw Cho Chang standing directly across from him. She didn't look too happy, her arms were folded defensively across her chest.
"Hello, Cho," he said, uncomfortably. He hadn't spoken to her since the end of last year's term.
"Harry," she said coolly.
She just stood there for a few seconds, looking at him. Harry wasn't sure what she wanted to do or what she wanted him to do. She finally spoke up.
"I hear that you and Hermione Granger are dating now," she said. "I saw you sitting with her and I saw her give you a kiss before she left."
"Yeah," he said, shifting awkwardly in his seat.
"I remember you telling me just last year that you and she were just friends. You said that you didn't think of her in that way," Cho said, her tone clearly accusatory. "Your behavior this morning would lead me to believe that you've clearly changed your tune."
Harry tried to remain calm. What was she getting at? She really had no place to question his relationship with Hermione. They were no longer dating. They'd never really been dating. The whole fiasco with Cho had been a mistake from the get-go. Besides, she had her own boyfriend now.
"At the time, what I told you about my relationship with Hermione was true," he said. "We were just friends, then, Cho. It wasn't until-" his voice trailed off.
"Until you finally realized what everyone else saw," she said. "You know you could have been honest with me, Harry. You could have just told me the truth. Any one with half a brain could see how Hermione felt about you. It was only a matter of time before you went for her, too. What I can't understand is why you didn't just tell me the truth to begin with. It would have saved us both a lot of heartache."
Harry didn't really know what to say. He couldn't understand why Cho would still care about any of this.
"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Cho," he said, "but I honestly never lied to you. Hermione and I were just friends."
"At the time," Cho finished for him. "Uh-huh. I just don't buy that. I don't buy that at all."
"Why did you come over here, then?" he asked her.
"I don't know," she said angrily. "I just wanted to hear you try and explain it to me."
"Well, there you are," Harry said. "I've done it. I've told you. I love Hermione. Are you happy now?"
She stood, looking at him, her mouth open in shock. He thought she'd say something, but she didn't. She turned on her heel and stomped out of the Great Hall.
"Women," he muttered to himself as he grabbed his own bag and walked out of the Great Hall.