Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

itmonster1

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 29/09/2003
Last Updated: 14/08/2005
Status: paused

Its 5th year, some things have changed for people such as their feelings for another but the Past now haunts the present and threatens the future. As rumors grow of You-Know-Who's return, an old enemy of the Magic world returns with challenges for Harry.

Chapters

1. The Turmoil Begins

2. Reunion

3. Museum of Dark Arts

4. From the Ruins

5. The Theft

6. Recovery

7. Showdown in Diagon Alley

8. Back to Howarts

9. Beacon in the Void

10. Bite of the Badger

11. The First Challange

12. Quidditch is only a Game

13. Boiled Hearts and Tempers

14. The Second Challenge

15. Bleeding Hearts

16. The Past Unveils

17. Wounded Earth

18. The Field of Hionor Part 1

19. The Field of Hionor Part 2

20. Way of Earth

21. The Untold Story

22. Home for the Holiday

23. Lonely No More

24. Storm of Torment

25. Storm of Torment Part 2

26. Aftermath

27. Aftermath Part 2

28. Into Twilight

29. Man or Monster Part 1

30. Man or Monster Part 2

1. The Turmoil Begins

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: This chapter is only to introduce the plot and mention Harry’s leaving of the Dursleys’. The following chapters will dwell further.

Let me also ask that any and all readers please remember that when I started this story in October (10/23/02), it was only based on the first four books along with my perceptions of the characters at that time. So while reading, most definitely there will be a large difference between this and OoP. A few things in this story are elements that I generated from my imagination and are not based directly in the four books, just something I wanted. I’ll warn you now that I am an H/Hr shipper.

I do hope any and all readers do enjoy this story.

Created 10/23/02

Revised 7/14/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 1

The Turmoil Begins

The walls stood high covered in patched moss of green filth glossed by moisture no human dare touch. A thick putrid fog, smelling of rotten things, wafted about the air. Darkness consumed nearly all that could have been seen, for the small amount light made available from an unseen moon revealed only a few feet of the corridor. Harry was in a maze, one even worse than at the tournament. His tattered robes and school dressing did nothing to defend against the icy cold that enveloped him. The worst of it all was that his wand was gone and where it was he did not know or even how he lost it.

A multitude of muffled sounds came in every direction around Harry except for one. It could be distinctly heard from somewhere high above, a shrilled banshee like laughter of claws scraping chalkboards.

Harry moved slowly through the freezing labyrinth, with no progress that he could sense.

A sound of wind whistled behind him and Harry swore there was a whispering voice calling his names.

The wind whistled louder again and this time he heard it.

Harry

Harry rushed as fast as he could through the corridors but the calling whisper only came closer and louder, in the whistling winds.

Harry tripped on landed hard on the gravel ground. He tried to stand but his body was giving into the numbness of cold. He looked ahead only to regret it. Eyes stared back at him, floating in the darkness with no face to claim them and no body to give recognition to. They just seemed to float there.

These eyes were glowing, red as blood and ablaze in furious fire yet cold as the depths of the icy maze.

Harry looked upon these eyes and a familiarity came to him. The eyes began to glide slowly towards him as the whispering voice grew ever more loudly and nearer. The eyes came within a moment’s distance from him and the voice called again, yelling.

HARRY!

And with that Harry opened his eyes and sat up quickly, gasping for breath. He surveyed his bedroom in blurred vision.

Yet another nightmare had come to pass….

The nightmares continued as they had since the beginning when his fourth year had ended and summer holidays began.

Almost night after night the nightmares played their demented show in Harry’s unwilling mind, giving only a night or two’s retreat. Since the beginning of the holiday, the nightmares had grown steadily in intensity from just the foul smelling maze to the muffled sounds evolving to the whispered voice and now cold eyes of blood filled hate.

Harry cursed as he sat there feeling the cold sensation in his scar, which was worsened by the immense cold sweat upon his brow that always accumulated during the nearly nightly replays of depravity.

Sometimes he would wake up from these dreams in the early morning hours and just lay there awake, unable to consider the concept of sleep, which his body reciprocated in disagreement. He’d lay there in silence broken only by Hedwig’s return home from a night’s hunt with a hoot gesturing a full stomach and a need for rest. There were sounds from the few nocturnal creatures of night like crickets finishing their time while early birds woke to begin the daily foraging. Harry lay there while the world continued on its schedule and he could not follow as others did, Magic or Muggle alike.

Harry sighed deeply to himself as he stared at the ceiling still able to picture those demonic eyes, which now began to haunt his dreams nearing the end of the holidays.

The summer holidays…

This holiday had been quite different than the last three had been or any for that matter. After having been returned to Pivet Drive, the Dursleys’ view of Harry had not changed at all. They still prevented him from leaving the house most of the time. They still regarded him as abnormal with no value above garbage. Aunt Petunia still barraged Harry with numerous chores and garden work. Dudley still got whatever he wanted.

Yet life at Privet drive was a bit different than the normal way it had followed in previous times. Dudley had lost quite a bit of weight. Smeltings had decided to increase his diet program considerably. He didn’t rival killer whales in size now and had slimmed down a bit but he was still easily mistaken for a large beach ball. He was even starting to resemble his mother more than his father now but his brain was still as slow as a snail’s pace.

Another difference was there were hardly any arguments between Harry and his Uncle. A fact even Vernon and Petunia had seemed to notice. Harry had done nearly everything he was ordered to do with barely a whisper of resistance. Vernon would come down to the kitchen ready to yell for Harry to make breakfast but find it already done or finishing with Harry in the kitchen. Petunia would make ready to order Harry to tend her garden only to find him already at it, pulling weeds, laying the fertilizing manure or trimming the many bushes.

Though they had not voiced it, this was starting to concern the Aunt and Uncle. Harry was doing things without being told and without argument.

They had learned that since Harry had returned from his ludicrous school, as Vernon regarded it, Harry had not taken any of his school items from his trunk aside from clothes nor mentioned anything about the months he had been gone. For the Dursleys’ this was quite welcomed but it was disturbing how quiet and des-spirited Harry had been acting these weeks. Dudley would poke and make fun of Harry in many ways but it was like pushing a doll around for Harry wouldn’t react. Though their feelings for the boy were unnoticeable to say the least, they were starting to feel as though he might be planning something and make things badly ‘different’ for them.

Luckily for the Dursleys’ relief would arrive two weeks before the start of the term on September 1st even if it would be an unwelcome kind of relief brought about by their own incessant need for ‘normalness’.

One day while the male Dursleys’ had gone shopping for Dudley’s school things and Harry was toiling in the garden, Petunia had made up her mind to do something she never conceived she would ever do. Petunia opened the door to Harry’s room and she spoke briskly in a matter of fact like tone to someone in that room.

“Alright you, I know what you do and I just so happen to have something for you. Give me any trouble an there’ll be hell to pay.”

With that Petunia stepped into the room withdrawing something from her apron pocket.

Late one morning, while Vernon was at the office and Dudley had gone to the cinema with some friends, the doorbell to number four Privet drive rang and Petunia promptly answered a minute later. She opened the door to be greeted by young freckled teenage girl accompanied by a plump woman bearing a broad smile and small wrapped package in her hands. It was easy to see that both were obviously related in Petunia’s eyes given that they both had reddest hair she had ever seen.

“Hello,” began the plump woman at the door, “I am ever so glad to meet you!”

“Good morning,” replied Petunia believing these people to be the new neighbors moving in down the street of Pivet drive.

However, a moment later, Petunia suddenly developed the nagging feeling that she had met this woman before.

The woman handed Petunia the wrapped package in her hands and said brightly, “I thought a nice Toffee cake would be a nice way to say hello and introduce myself.”

“Why thank you,” responded Petunia as she took the item into her own hands and stepped back from the door, “Won’t you please come in and have some tea?”

Petunia still could not get over the feeling she had of familiarity with this unnamed woman. The young lady stepped in followed by her mother.

“That would be wonderful,” excitedly replied the woman while her daughter stood slightly behind quizzically looking about.

Petunia was ready to lead them to the kitchen but something in the smile upon the woman’s face made it seem unnecessary to do so.

“I’m terribly sorry but we don’t have time for that lovely invitation. We only wanted to introduce ourselves and finish what you asked,” stated the woman warily, her smile changing to a devious grin.

Petunia’s nagging feeling of familiarity changed to very unsettling, as she looked upon these two.

“What I asked,” asked Petunia nervously?

“Now I don’t want a fuss. I know you’re not happy with those like me in your home or even around for that matter. And I don’t intend for there to be any hysterics or foolishness that has accompanied before in the past,” stated the strange woman.

“What… who are you,” Petunia began but was cut off as the woman pulled a small folded envelop from her pocket?

It was the same envelop; the very envelope Petunia had given to the owl.

“We are here for Harry and I apologize for the unmentioned arrival but I wanted to avoid as much trouble as I could. I was quite surprised to see who the letter was from,” stated the woman, “Considering how you feel about your sister Lily, I would never have expected you to contact me.”

“Molly” whispered Petunia in a rigid state.

“Yes quite right, Molly… actually Molly Weasley now. This is my daughter and youngest child Ginny. I believe you met my husband and my rather ‘enthusiastic’ boys last year about this time. I decided that things would be much smoother if I were to come to avoid any repeats,” happily stated Mrs. Weasley.

Petunia stood there dumbfounded with no idea what to do. She was alone in the house without help surrounded by… them.

With a gestured look from her mother, Ginny opened the door they had entered and there stood Fred and George who entered quite stiffly and quietly while being eyed by their mother.

“Remember what I said. No tricks, jokes or anything of the sort. We’re guests here and this woman deserves respect without her home becoming some kind of manor of mischief,” warned Mrs. Weasley to the boys,” Now go and fetch Harry… and I mean it… or de-gnoming the garden will be a delight to the punishment you’ll get if your toes so much as itch with an idea.”

The boys scooted up the stairs knowing the way while only saying “Yes mother.”

An awkward silence followed as the boys went to Harry’s room to greet him and help gather his school things. Minutes began to pass. Petunia stood exactly where she was. Mrs. Weasley began to glance upward more and more at the stairs as time past by. She knew right well that those boys wouldn’t be doing anything silly because they knew they’d rather deal with Professor Snape than her temper.

Ginny was fighting hard to suppress the rising giggles in her as she stole quick glances at Harry’s aunt. Petunia was as white as her apron and looked as though someone had used the petrificus spell to make her so rigid and statue like.

Mrs. Weasley on the other hand was trying hard to settle herself from the desire to storm up the steps to devastate whatever stunt the mischievous duo were planning. She reminded herself that Harry had not been previously informed of their arrival and may have needed a few minutes to realize that the Weasley family was here to take him back to the Burrow. So he’d need more time to gather his things. But something about how quiet things were bothered the boys’ mother.

Just as she had finally had enough of the unknowing and was about to proceed up the stairs ready for a tirade, George and Fred appeared carrying a trunk between them down the stairs while balancing an empty owl cage.

“Er… Mum,” began Fred uneasily,” I think you should go up and see Harry?”

“Goodness what’s wrong,” was all Mrs. Weasley could say as she hurried past and up the stairs trying to prepare for whatever joke the boys had set up unable to resist their urge?

The site that greeted her was not what she had expected.

Harry was sitting on the edge of his bed with his face looking down at the floor. Hedwig must have flown off to the awaiting perch at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley cautiously walked in and sat next Harry.

His skin, though tanned from garden work, was strangely pale. His eyes looked tired and far away. The strangest sight was his hair; normally a pointed mess now was nearly flat and dull looking having lost its luster.

“Is something wrong, Harry? Ron didn’t come because I didn’t tell him I was coming to get you. It’s to be sort of a surprise for the both of you. I wanted the transition form here to be as quick as possible for us all,” quietly whispered Mrs. Weasley anticipating that Harry was hurt at Ron not coming.

Harry just remained motionless and didn’t respond.

Mrs. Weasley was getting worried now, “Harry talk to me?”

At this Harry lifted his head at looked at her with his wearied eyes, “I don’t think I should leave.”

Mrs. Weasley guessed easily what Harry meant.

-He must view his presence as dangerous for others. - She thought.

But she wasn’t going to let him think like that and she’d be damned if anyone would stop her from taking him home for reasons she had yet to say.

She grabbed his arm as she stood and pulled him to his feet. She started to almost drag him across the room. Harry was very surprised by her swift action but followed without question.

She stopped at the doorway, turning to look at him and with very matter of fact like tone replied, “Harry you are part of my family... No question about it... I will not have you stay in this dreadful place a moment longer... Ron has been going on about how you and we’ve all been just as worried… Dark wizards may be after you but that’s not ‘your’ fault just as everything else that has happened is not anything to be blamed at you either... Now I won’t have any more this.”

And without struggle Harry followed Mrs. Weasley out of the room and down the stairs. He said a quick goodbye to his still very rigid Aunt and stepped out the door feeling a bit better than he had in some time. Ginny was in the front passenger seat of an orange four door car half of herself leaning out the window with big warm smile while Fred and George stood on opposite sides of the open back door with big grins on their faces. Mrs. Weasley headed around the car while Fred ushered Harry in followed by George.

Mrs. Weasley started the car and began driving away. The giggles and snorts of laughter over Petunia’s reaction at an invasion of wizards and witches into her home could no longer be held back any longer. Even Mrs. Weasley could hardly contain herself anymore over the humorous look on the woman’s face. Before they could finally simmer down to talk to Harry, he was already fast asleep, this time peacefully.

What they never notice, Magical or Muggle alike, was someone down the street a short ways standing in the shadow of garage. A being with dim silver eyes gleaming while their body remained hidden by the shadows.

The unknown person whispered to no one, “The Turmoil Begins.”

Next chapter

Reunion

2. Reunion

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I do not know what everyone’s view on the possible pairings of characters. I’ve heard both ways and I have my own opinion. My fan fiction has the relationship of Harry and Hermione develop further and it begins in this chapter. I wanted to warn potential readers ahead of time. If you feel that I am wrong, I will not disagree because I do not know for myself either.

Created

Revised 5/13/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 2

Reunion

“Where’s Harry? I thought you were going to have him here already? Did the Dursleys’,” began Mr. Weasley.

His wife held up her hand to stop him.

“Harry’s asleep on the swing bench in the garden out back. He fell asleep in the car before we left that nasty place and I had the twins put him there to let him sleep a bit more,” answered Mrs. Weasley with a tone of self-satisfaction, “Where’s Hermione?”

Mr. Weasley smiled, “She upstairs, settling, waiting for me to let her know when we’re going to go ‘save’ Harry from those muggles. She thinks that Ron and Ginny went to run an errand for you.”

“Oooh what a devilish pair we’ve made ourselves. They won’t know what to think,” giggled Mrs. Weasley.

“Maybe we’re the bad influence on the twins, “laughed Mr. Weasley.

Harry woke up from a wondrous dream.

Ron’s mum had arrived at the Dursleys’ and taken him back to the Burrow. As he started to open his eyes Harry became aware that his room seemed different and there was strange weight on his chest. When his eyes adjusted to the bright light around, he looked down his front to see what was he was there. A particularly dirty gnome sat staring at him, chewing on a root. With a quick shudder, Harry knocked the creature from his chest and sat up to look around. It took a moment for Harry to realize where he was and even pinched him-self to make sure what he saw was true. He was in the familiar backyard of the Weasley Burrow.

-So it wasn’t a dream, - thought Harry.

He staggered towards the door leading into the kitchen from the backyard. He still had a slight feeling that he may be delusional.

Stumbling into the kitchen still groggy from sleeping, Harry was suddenly made very alert from a loud clattering of metal.

There stood Ron with a mess of pots at his feet and his face white.

“Harry” shouted Ron in disbelief?

“Ron” asked Harry?

“Did someone say Harry “came a familiar voice from another room?

A moment later to Harry’s amazement a familiar brunette walked into the kitchen from the opposing room.

Had it not been for the bushy hair Harry may not have recognized the pretty girl at all.

“Hermione,” asked Harry?

“Harry, “said the stunned Hermione, “Ron?”

“Hermione,” came Ron’s blunt voice finally realizing Hermione’s arrival.

“Ron?”

“Harry?”

“Hermione?”

They continued on saying each other’s name in strange combinations all the while the rest of the Weasley family had filtered into the room laughing hysterically.

Finally the trio just looked at Mrs. Weasley.

“Surprise!” was all that she responded to their puzzled faces with.

Realization finally dawned on them as to what the Weasley’s had done. They had brought them together without telling any of them when.

Harry looked back at Ron or at least the person who looked like Ron anyways.

Ron had definitely changed in the short time since Hogwarts past year. He was a bit taller but no longer gangly like Harry. He looked more like his older brother Charlie. Ron had broader shoulders, thickened arms & chest and his overall appearance was bolder now similar to Crabbe but not as much of a nasty gorilla appearance.

Hermione was a sight both Harry and Ron were still having trouble accepting. She was in muggle clothing so the differences were more apparent then they would be in witch’s robes. Hermione at some point had gone from that lanky girl the boys knew before to a girl with a very noticeably defined figure. Her hair was still bushy but seemed to have settled a bit and with the hint of a shine to it.

Hermione had similar thoughts of Ron’s new appearance. Hermione gave Harry a look over as well. She could see that his hair was still the quirked mess it had been since she met him though strangely less today. Harry’s frame was still thin but no longer skin and bones. His skin was tanned but hinted paleness. The Tri-Wizard tournament had given him a small build providing more of a defined frame. He was taller now, not the same height as Ron but reasonably close. Those eyes were what caught Hermione’s attention. Maybe she had not notice with the events of last year but Harry’s eyes seemed even greener than ever, like a brilliant shade of emerald. She was almost transfixed by them, seeing something mystical until Ginny came into the room causing a distraction.

Ron and Harry didn’t realize they were staring at their friend until Ginny walked in.

Ginny smiled wickedly after glancing briefly at the two and using an interrogating tone said, “Boys?”

Ron and Harry looked back at each other in unified confusion.

Ginny leaned sideways and whispered something into Hermione’s ear making Hermione blush a deep red and Ginny looked back at the two with a triumphant and knowing smiled, asking, “Something wrong?”

“No,” replied them both at once!

After that, they all had a late lunch in the back yard filled with stories of the summer and other bits of general conversation. Harry remained rather quiet, a fact not unnoticed by all those present. If Harry had timed his glances better he would have notice that at different times through out the meal each person present had taken a moment to observe him and his quiet behavior.

Hermione broke the various conversations with a new subject.

“When will we be going to the Ministry’s Museum of Darks Arts?”

“The what,” questioned Harry?

“Its part of our holiday homework. You have been checking your holiday homework haven’t you? All fifth years need to see this museum for background on stuff like talismans and other bewitched items for our O.W.L.S.,” stated Hermione plainly.

Mr. Weasley spoke up then, “Oh they only allow visits at certain times of each week. So the next available time for us will be the day after tomorrow in the afternoon. You’ll probably see many of your classmates there too.”

Lunch continued with Ron and Hermione having yet another heated discussion about doing homework over the holidays. It developed into an argument which ended with Hermione making clear that Ron would be behind and not to ask her to explain things he missed while goofing all summer, neglecting his studies.

Late evening fell upon the Burrow, the Weasley family along with Hermione carried on in the house cleaning dishes and more loud talk. Even a scolding from Mrs. Weasley was heard as she had discovered that the twins still had plenty of their magic jokes still available in the house. Apparently as Harry was guessing the boys had decided to test their products on their family by placing items about the house.

While everyone was inside, Harry sat on the swinging bench in the Burrow garden watching as the stars began to twinkle through the early nighttime sky. He felt wonderfully at peace, more so than he had in quite some time.

Harry was jolted back to reality by the sudden quiet call of his name. He looked to his side to see Hermione had come out to the bench and seemed to be saying his name.

“Harry?”

“Err… Yeah” was all he could stumble out in that moment.

Hermione stood dressed in her Hogwarts robes now. Strangely Harry felt disappointed to see her dressed differently but he didn’t know why. He had seen her in robes for nearly four years what could be so disappointing about that. Then the image of her in muggle clothes appeared in his mind and an unusual feeling settle in him.

Hermione smoothed down her skirt as she sat down on the bench next to him. These actions of her approach bothered him and yet were oddly stirring.

-Something about Hermione is making me nervous- thought Harry, -but why? -

Hermione notice his nervousness and wondered, “Am I bothering you? Did you want to be alone? I was just wondering why…”

Hermione moved to stand up but, even in his own surprise, Harry quickly clasped her hand, “No! I was just surprised. I was just staring off and didn’t expect anyone at the moment.”

He removed his hand just as quickly as he had placed it.

Hermione smiled shyly with her head slightly tilted. A movement Harry saw in the corner of his eye and was mesmerized by it.

“Alright, shall we just sit here and enjoy the evening then?”

Harry looked at her. The dim light from the stars and peeking moon were casting her in a strange light, Harry felt slightly excited by her presence. However his nervousness had also grown more vivid and sweat began to bead on his brow.

-Why am I feeling so… so trapped or something- thought Harry?

Hermione noticed the sweat on him and she could feel he was nervous about something. She couldn’t help but find it amusing and she suppressed the urge to giggle. It wasn’t often Harry got nervous but he looked ready to jump out of his skin and she found that Harry looked sweetly comical when nervous about anything. She just wished she knew what was bothering him.

Then a sudden thought came to her that wasn’t so funny and may have explained his unusual behavior.

-Could he be… would he…. to me, - Hermione started thinking as she watched him, - He might be…. hiding something from me? -

“Harry? Is there something bothering you,” whispered Hermione?

Harry sat stunned. What was he suppose to tell her? That her presence was making him feel like he was going crawl out of his skin and didn’t know why? That he was disappointed that she had changed into witch’s robes. That for some reason he wanted to sit closer but the same thought also terrified him. That his hand felt strange from touching hers and that he wanted to do so again. That he couldn’t stop sweating as of she were holding a knife to his throat but also felt thrilled to be near her like this. No he’d sound like a nut telling her that. Not to mention it wouldn’t sound nice at all and having an argument right now was not something he wanted.

Instead he muttered out with a weak smile, “I guess I’m still a little tired and maybe jumpy about going back to Hogwarts.”

It wasn’t an exactly lie. He had felt those things just not right now. But the look on Hermione’s face showed that she believed it and wasn’t going to inquire more about it. Instead she shifted closer to him and leaned against his side.

She could feel his body starting to quiver.

“You aren’t the only one. Others are… unsure about this year too.”

Harry’s heartbeat seemed to quicken making the beating sound more evident in his ears.

“It is a bit chilly out isn’t it,” mentioned Hermione?

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re pale and shaking,” stated Hermione.

She stood up and took hold of his hand pulling him up from the bench. Harry followed her action without question.

“We should get back in and ready ourselves for bed,” said Hermione and she headed for the house. Harry followed.

As they past through the kitchen into the living room, Hermione bid them all goodnight and started towards the stairs while Ron beckoned Harry over to him with the twins. Hermione met Ginny at the foot of the stairs, who followed along up towards the room they now shared.

As they climbed the stairs Ginny stated, “I believe you owe me a galleon.”

“For what,” inquire Hermione?

“Our bet”

“What bet?”

Ginny stopped, as did Hermione with a mischievous look of satisfaction on her face. Ginny had her hands behind her back and she slowly took a closer step towards Hermione.

“I said earlier this morning that I’d bet a galleon that those two would take one look at you and start gawking like petrified idiots.”

Hermione could feel her face flush hot but rather than admit to Ginny’s victory she played dumb.

“They haven’t seen me since the end of the year and were just as surprised to see me,” corrected Hermione with a nervous tone, hoping Ginny would believe her innocence.

Ginny giggled and responded, “Oh they were surprised to see you alright… Surprised that they didn’t see Hermione Granger, the girl who’s been their best friend since first year,” she gave Hermione a look over from head to toe before continuing, “They saw Hermione Granger, young witch as obviously portrayed by her more ‘revealing’ muggle clothes.”

And with that Ginny continued up the stairs, her smile even wider than before.

Hermione stayed where she was replaying Ginny’s words in her mind as well as flashing back to the moment when Harry and Ron saw her. She could feel her face getting hotter as the truth of Ginny’s word sunk true into her mind.

-Damn! - She thought – I’ll have to get that Galleon from my trunk. -

“Boys,” she said quietly and with frustration, “Honestly why do they have to be so stupid?”

With that she continued on to Ginny’s room to fetch the indebted Galleon and ready her-self for more of Ginny’s insinuations.

The next morning Hermione awoke to find Ginny writing in her diary. Hermione had a pretty good guess in mind as to what Ginny thought was memorable enough to write in her diary so early in the morning and not last night when they were both awake.

Hermione was about to put on her muggle clothes from yesterday, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, until Ginny’s words from last night replayed yet again in her mind.

Ginny glanced up from her dairy with a knowing grin, Hermione shot her a dark look, and Ginny turned back to her dairy with suppressed giggles wiggling their way out with each breath.

Hermione finally settled on a knee length tan skirt with a yellow blouse and a puffy pullover sweater.

-This should prevent any awkward moments- thought Hermione.

She headed down to the kitchen following the smells of what was apparently a hearty breakfast. Laughter and clunking noises reached her ears upon entering the kitchen. There, Hermione found quite a scene.

Mr. Weasley was fighting with a kitchen chair, which had wrapped its armrests around him trapping its hostage. It was hopping about like a crazy rabbit not wanting to stay on the ground. The twins were curled up on the floor clutching their stomachs in pained laughter while Ron had his head in one hand and was banging the other against the table in a fit of laughter. Hermione was more shocked to find even Mrs. Weasley trying to contain herself stifling giggles as she tried to tell the twins to stop the chair but couldn’t open her mouth without revealing her own amusement. Hermione was amazed but the hilarity was starting to sink in when George muttered something and the chair went still releasing Mr. Weasley from its restraint.

Expecting to be quite enraged by the ordeal, Mr. Weasley just sat there chuckling as he waited for his family to calm down. Finally everyone was able to take deep breaths and retain their composure. George sat back at the table while Fred walked around to the back of his father’s chair and removed a small object from the back of the wood.

“We made this, and others, last year as a gag for use with furniture. With Hermione, Ron and Harry going to the Museum tomorrow we figured why not a little preview of what a talisman can do,” explained George.

“Honestly we couldn’t resist the temptation for a laugh and a little learning at the same time. Wished Harry could have seen it, do him some good to have a laugh. Surprised he’s still asleep what with him going to bed early and all, “ added Fred.

Ron looked at Hermione with an odd face, hopped up and wrapped some toast in a napkin.

He walked towards Hermione with a look that he wanted her to follow his lead. She nodded quickly in understanding.

“We going to the market for a bit to get those apples you wanted for the pies, mum “announced Ron, “Tell Harry would you, when decides to wake up.”

“Okay, “was Mrs. Weasley’s response.

Later they were walking down the street having not said a word since leaving the Burrow and Hermione was getting uncomfortable by the silence.

Before she could mention that, Ron spoke up.

“There’s something wrong with Harry,” he said flatly.

Hermione responded quickly, “Wrong how?”

Ron sighed and began, “I’m not sure exactly... When you went up the stairs I asked Harry to a game of Exploding Snap or Chess but he turned them both down… Since when does Harry not want to play Exploding snap with the twins and me? He said he thought he should get to bed, so I didn’t think twice about it… Later, I headed for bed too.”

Ron took a breath and seemed to think hard for a moment. Hermione didn’t want to push him; Ron face shone that he felt like this was leading to some betrayal or something by telling her this so she let him take his time.

Ron took a bite of toast he had in his hand, swallowed and continued.

“I’ve shared the same dorm with him for four years and I can tell you he’s a sound sleeper... No snoring, no sounds and no talking, but not this time. He was talking but more like arguing about something.”

Again he paused and she waited.

“He wasn’t very clear but I could make out things about ‘fault’ and ‘monster’ among various mumblings.”

“He’s having nightmares,” was all Hermione could say.

“No doubt but he never said anything in his letters,” responded Ron, “And with what mum about picking up Harry from the Dursleys’… I’m worried Hermione, something doesn’t feel right about Harry. He seems more like a stranger than the Harry we know. All he wants to do his sit in the garden on Mum’s swing bench and stare out into nothing.”

“Tell me about what your mum said about getting Harry,” stated Hermione.

So Ron told her what Mrs. Weasley encountered when she took Harry from the Dursleys’.

They talked and went over what Ron heard while creating their own theories.

They got the apples from the village market as Ron had promised and returned. At once Hermione disappeared from everyone and re-appeared a short while later with a written letter for Hedwig to deliver. With a quick word and stroke of her feathers from Hermione, Hedwig hastily flew off. Hermione would only say that the letter was personal saying nothing more.

Ron and Hermione watched Harry through out the day and Ron was right Harry did seem different. Harry was happy only while he sat at that bench in the garden swaying back and forth oblivious to the world around him. He didn’t want to play games or talk much and always seemed jumpy with Hermione. They both knew something was up and may not be easy to find out.

The day continued on with the occasional prank by Fred and George followed by their mother’s claims of going mad before she even had grey hair at their trickery.

That evening after supper Hedwig returned with a package for Hermione. Before anyone could see anything she thanked the owl and fled from the room.

They were all in the living room chatting, when Mrs. Weasley decided to have another cup of tea before bed. She asked if anyone else would like one and most agreed. Hermione showed that moment.

“Let me help you Mrs. Weasley.”

“Thank you, dear.”

With that they entered the kitchen and return a few minutes later with a tray of cups. They passed them out to those who had asked then Hermione handed one to Harry, who had not asked.

“Hermione, thank you but I didn’t,” began Harry.

“Just drink it,” said Hermione with a note of absoluteness in her voice.

Harry drained the cup in a single drink and Hermione snatched it from him before he could say anything.

The others in the room noticed the odd exchange between them but thought better about questioning. After all, arguing with Hermione once she made up her mind was a hopeless endeavor; one would have a better chance at getting Snape to laugh at a joke.

They began heading for bed and after some time the snoozes of the others had taken their place for the sounds of the night.

Ron was an exception. He lay awake to hear Harry talk again over an hour had passed with no result. He decided to take a walk around the house to wait rather than to be still.

He headed down the stairs but was stopped by hearing his name whispered from a voice coming from the door to Ginny’ room. Ron turn and Hermione stepped out.

“Is he asleep?”

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear him start talking again but no luck yet.”

Hermione smiled with satisfaction and answered, “He won’t be talking, I guaranteed that.”

“Huh?”

Hermione only continued to smile.

“You going to tell me what this is about because he’d…”

“No,” she cut him off, “He’ll get a full night’s rest then maybe we can figure something out.”

“You know, Hermione, I said this before but I’ll say it again your brilliant but scary.”

Hermione then said goodnight and returned to her room. Ron did the same and fell asleep easier knowing his friend was in for a better night even if Ron didn’t know what Hermione had done.

Next Chapter

The Museum of Dark Arts

3. Museum of Dark Arts

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: This chapter will introduce the origin of the main key elements of the plot. I also introduce a new character. The description of the new character is meant to be sexist for later reasons.

Revised 5/13/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 3

The Museum of Dark Arts

The next morning Ron woke to find Harry was already up and out of the room. Curious to know what Hermione’s tampering of the tea last night had done, he dressed quickly to head downstairs.

As Ron bounded the stairs not being careful of waking anybody, a door opened and Hermione stepped out.

“Do you always thundered down stairs in the mornings,” growled Hermione.

“No,” snapped Ron,” Harry’s already up.”

Hermione attitude changed for the better, her eyes widen, and excitedly replied, and “He is? Where? ”

“I’m guessing the kitchen for breakfast.”

“Let’s go.”

They hurried down the steps and into the kitchen to find a sight not what they had expected.

Harry sat at the table eating porridge while talking animatedly with Mr. Weasley about muggle life and looked a great deal better than last night. His hair was more its messy self again, eyes less weary and color seem to be back in his face.

“Morning Harry” greeted Ron.

”How’d you sleep, Harry?” asked Hermione before realizing the depth of what she asked.

“Good… Thanks again for the tea last night. It really hit the spot,” replied Harry with an inquiring look aimed at Hermione, “How about we eat breakfast outside today?”

They spooned themselves some porridge, grabbed a slice of toast and followed Harry out into the back garden.

“What did you do to that tea?” asked Ron in a whisper.

Hermione’s face flushed red a bit but she clearly wasn’t going to answer.

Harry headed straight for a patch of grass. He sat himself down on it and began eating again.

Ron sat down opposite Harry and started eating porridge himself not really even noticing if his spoon was scooping porridge into his mouth or not. He didn’t dare move his eyes from Harry.

Hermione sat to the side of boys facing them. She ignored her porridge and nibbled on the toast.

Harry looked up and glanced at the two of them with an amused look and said, “What’s up with you two?”

Ron and Hermione sat motionless at his words.

Harry let off a laugh and replied to their stilled state, “Why are you two so quiet?”

Hermione decided to chance a whispered question, “You feel okay?”

“Of course, what’d you expect?”

“You seem to want to be out here all the time and not exactly been yourself,” blurted Ron and receiving a glare from Hermione at his tactlessness.

Harry thought for a moment, taking another spoonful before answering lightly.

“I don’t know I just like it out here and as for not being myself well I have been tired so I guess that’s why.”

-He’s still hiding something- thought Hermione.

A quick look to Ron showed he was thinking the same as Hermione.

After that, breakfast became much more enjoyable as the three talked openly again. Hermione decided to wait on pushing Harry on anything and Ron seemed too excited to have his friend back to worry anymore.

According to Ron, his father let him go to the ministry a few times a week and while there he was allowed to practice magic. So he had finally mastered some of the spells that were troubling him before as well as some they had learned during the Tri-Wizard tournament. A bad storm had come through his hometown after the end the fourth year causing a lot of damage. He had helped people during the holiday move debris and more. This had apparently been the cause of his new physical appearance along with new growth.

Hermione had to ask, “Ron? Why did you want to practice all those spells? You never seemed keen on practicing at anything but Quidditch?”

Ron squirmed for a moment and chanced a worried look at Harry before answering, “I thought I’d be better prepared to help considering what happened last year with You-Know-Who and all.”

“Thanks Ron... What about you Hermione? Devour a library or anything,” responded Harry changing the uncomfortable subject.

They had not spoken of the past events since he told them the story of graveyard and Harry was happy no one was asking him anything about it.

Hermione had visited Krum like he had asked. Ron surprisingly made no comment or sound to the mention of this but rather listened to Hermione continued on. During her visit, she had acquired some books, which she finished over the summer. Mainly she had decided to take things easy and review her books from last year. Noticeably, though, she said nothing of anything that she had done with Victor on the visit.

They chatted on until mid morning until Mrs. Weasley had called out to them for their dishes. After depositing the breakfast materials and being turned down by Mrs. Weasley when they offered to help with washing, they headed for the living room. They situated themselves as they had done in their common room many times before, around the fireplace but still able to face each other.

“I wonder what kind of dark arts talisman stuff this museum holds,” asked Ron?

Hermione perked up and answered, “Well not just talismans, anything that has been bewitch or enchanted permanently. Meaning the ministry needs to hold this stuff because the wizards and witches who did it made the objects so that the magic couldn’t be removed. They can be anything from stones to jewels or weapons and tools both used by muggle and magic people alike.”

“Sounds like it may not be boring,” stated Ron with a surprise of enthusiasm.

Usually anything educational was considered boring to Ron.

“Who’s all going,” inquired Harry.

Ron had the answer now, “Well Fred and George have already been there. Ginny is going with dad to someplace for an errand for mum. So it’ll be just us. I thought it would be fine for us to go alone but the ministry got rules for underage wizards being there.”

“Well of course, ” came Hermione’s voice.

“Oh don’t start,” snapped Ron.

The two began yet another argument about rules. Harry really didn’t pay much attention. Instead he felt quite comfortable letting his eyelids droop and letting the world slip away with consciousness.

He had forgotten what happens when he falls asleep…

The corridor came into view again. Stench of the fog and the light from an unknown moon reprised their roles again. The muffled sounds and the whispering voice played on cue. The difference this time was that the evil eyes had not come to perform their haunting dance towards him and the cold was not so penetrating.

“Harry”

The whispered voice called his name again but now with an addition.

Harry could hear his name said but a message seem to follow becoming clearer with each repeat.

“Harry. Danger…”

“Listen…”

“Listen…”

“Listen for the…”

But the message was interrupted. Everything started to blur and shake.

“HARRY! DANGER! LISTEN FOR THE…”

The voice cried out but was too late. The message was stopped as another voice yelled in Harry’s ear.

“Harry!”

Harry woke up in sudden panic. Without seeing or thinking he knocked the person in front of him away and reached for his wand. He drew and held it at aim.

Ron stood there, perfectly still, just having regained his balance as Harry’s wand centered at his face. Down the wand to its owner’s hand and up the arm he could see Harry’s face.

Harry’s eyes were blank of thought but alert. Ron tried to steady his breathing but found it difficult with his friend staring at him ready to strike.

“Harry?” came Hermione’s worried and calming voice.

He blinked a few times and lowered his wand. Ron took a deep breath and let his mind register what had just happened. Hermione sighed with relief.

Ron was able speak again and tried hard to hold back his unsettled feelings of being threatened point blank by a wand especially his own best friend’s.

“What was all that about? We try to wake you up and you go loopy on us!”

Hermione looked unease at the two. Starting an argument was not the best idea right now but Ron had a right to be mad.

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep and I was just surprised. I’m sorry I…” stammered Harry with a confused and embarrassed look towards the floor.

Ron attitude changed which surprised even Hermione.

“Fine but at least next time you decide to nod off and talk in your sleep do it in English hearing Parseltongue from you awake is creepy enough.”

“Parseltongue?” asked Harry.

“What? I thought you wanted him to play chess or something! I didn’t hear him?” said Hermione.

She was instantly worried and they both could see that she was running through theories in her mind from the look on her face.

Ron however spoke before she could, “Well it’s almost time to go too, so I thought I’d remind Harry then got worried when I heard the hissing.”

Ron watched Harry as he spoke this.

Harry seemed finally connect with reality and shook his head a moment.

“Right, again I’m sorry about that so no more naps with my wand I guess,” replied Harry with a tone of faked amusement.

“We have to be in school robes to get in,” stated Ron in is usual tone now that the situation had past.

The trio departed to their rooms for a quick change and came back down when Mrs. Weasley called to them indicating it was time to go.

The trio came back to the living room to meet Mrs. Weasley by the fireplace. Evidently there were going by Floo powder, not a way of travel Harry was pleased to see. Mrs. Weasley gave them the name of the fireplace to go to and one by one they stepped into the fire and proceeded to their destinations. Ron went first followed by Hermione then Harry ending with Mrs. Weasley.

Upon exiting the fireplace Harry found himself in a huge stone room. The ceiling, floors and walls were all made of stone. It made Harry think of a cave made by hand or magic in this case. A suddenly feeling of uneasiness followed as he looked around. All dim and old stone, similar to the maze in his dreams but fortunately none of the other elements were present. For the moment, that was the only fact keeping him from leaving.

There were wizards and witches all over the place. Many of them massed about at large opening big enough for an elephant with a wizard and witch on either side. A small floating orb, flashing white each time a person entered or exited, was in the middle of the opening. Both had long piece of parchment and were scribbling on it as people passed by in different directions.

Mrs. Weasley saw Harry’s puzzlement to the room’s appearance and answered his query before he asked.

“The building is a mass of stone not a bit of wood. All of it embedded with charms to prevent thieves who would try to break in and steal things from using magic to do it. Kind of like a vault. The parchment is part of what Arthur mentioned before about letting people visit at certain times. Those are ministry representatives and they record each person who enters and each person who leaves so they know whose inside at all times. The orb is a detector that tells if people are lying or not when they say their name. Last year, the twins thought it would be funny to say different names. Aurors popped up all over when the orb turned red after they called themselves Bill and Charlie,” explained Mrs. Weasley.

She shook her head in quiet disbelief reliving the embarrassing memory.

They walked up to the group and slowly moved forward. They reached the witch on the side.

“Ronald Weasley”

The orb blinked white, the witch scribbled and Ron walked forward and waited.

“Hermione Granger”

The process repeated.

“Harry Potter”

The orb did nothing. The witch looked up towards the orb then back at him, her eyes full of suspicion.

“Harry Potter” repeated Harry more loudly.

The people around stopped what they were doing to see The Boy Who Lived and see why the orb would not respond.

The witch eyed him even more and stated, “Your full name?”

Harry stared at her dumbfounded.

-Full name? – He thought –It had always been Harry Potter. So what is my name? -

The witch seemed to be getting angry at Harry’s pause. A fact, which had not escaped Hermione attention nor had the witch’s thoroughness kept Hermione in good graces before she herself responded.

“Can you be anymore rude?” snapped Hermione, “Do you think it’s possible he may not realize what you want? If you knew anything, you’d know Harry does not spend his entire life in the magic world and so doesn’t always know what to do every moment! Maybe you could be a little civil and tell him you need you to say his birth name?”

-My birth name? - Thought Harry –What was that? -

Mrs. Weasley whispered in Harry’s ear and he thought a moment before speaking.

With some trepidation he spoke again, “Harry James Potter.”

The orb blinked white; the witch looked at him again then scribbled on the parchment.

Harry took that as his cue to walk on and Mrs. Weasley followed a moment later.

Hermione mutter to herself a few things Harry only caught pieces but they seemed to be about how rude people can be and that posted instructions might have prevented that scene.

They walked through a short dimly lit tunnel and into a wondrous room.

The room was like the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Huge stonewalls, each with an entrance into other rooms of the same size. The rooms were filled with the oddest to the most familiar items.

Some things were encased in glass boxes on pedestals all over the floor while others were attached to the walls. Each and every item being display had small bronze metal plate next it. On these plates were large cursive engravings. Below each engraving was a small square shape that rapidly changed color.

Hermione saw Harry’s curiosity peeking and informed him, “If you see something that’s interesting, touch the color changing square. Its like a muggle tape, it will play a recording describing the history of the talisman.”

Harry looked all over, wondering around. He saw all sorts of things. Some of it very simple and not what he’d have expected to be talismans or enchanted stuff to be. Things like garden tools, office stationary, carpets, and other things of everyday use in a home or by a person. It was not very interesting to Harry until he wandered into another room and was instantly enthralled by what was displayed.

Swords, shields, metal clothing, different kinds of wooden sticks, staffs, scepters, spheres, metal armlets bearing aged inscriptions, misshapen jewels like sapphires & rubies and host of uncommon things.

Harry touched the colored squares on many items listening to the recorded voice give its name and history.

Eventually Harry’s eyes became locked on one particular thing throughout all that he had been browsing in that room. A small orb glowing in an eerie navy blue light, something about its color called to him. He glanced at the bronze plate next to it and the name read The Colossus Orb. He stood in silence without thought while staring at the Colossus Orb and suddenly touched his finger to the colored square.

The voice spoke.

“The Colossus Orb… Its actual time of creation has not yet been fully determined but records indicate that it was first used at some point before the year 932 AD by the self proclaimed ruling witch Sareseus. Colossus by definition means huge or gigantic and it has that affect on magic. The orb is actually a form of amplification magic, meaning that it will amply or increases the intensity of the spell being performed while held. Sareseus and others like her have used this orb to gain superiority in strength and forced control over provinces. The users of this particular piece have never stayed in power long because of their development for dependency of enhanced magic. As the Colossus Orb amplifies the spell by an undetermined factor it also concedes the users to amplified consequences of the side effects of magic. Thus in using the Colossus Orb many have perished while performing a spell because they could no longer handle the increased side effects. The orb was discovered in a tomb by muggle archeologist thinking it was a good luck charm for the buried. A wizard later recovered it during a muggle auction event when it began to react to the desires of the auctioneer’s wish for high bids in the year 1748 A.D. Please consult your local muggle studies source for more information on auctions. The orb has remained here since and is still currently being studied to see if its magical properties can be disenchanted.”

As Harry continued to dwell on the information until Ron interrupted him.

“Eh Harry, mum and Hermione want to get a snack so I came to get you too,” popped Ron.

“Huh,” Harry checked his watch and realized that almost three hours had passed since arriving here. “Uh sure yeah let’s go.”

With one last look around, Harry followed Ron to a small back area in the building where one could purchase foods.

Harry took a while to decide what he’d want. They seemed to have everything and anything. Junk foods to exotic things he couldn’t pronounce let alone even know what it was. In the end, he ordered pumpkin juice and a chocolate frog. He went to the table the others had nabbed and they looked at him in mild worry. They each had ordered a large meal while Harry had mostly his juice.

In response to their looks he answered, “I’m not really hungry just thirsty.”

They accepted the answer but Mrs. Weasley still didn’t seem comfortable about it.

Hermione began, much to Harry and Ron’s expectation, about how fascinating and educational everything was. She was repeating much of what she had learned and was receiving annoyed responses from Ron about her enthusiasm for everything. Harry listened with much amusement to them and shook his head as Hermione had yet again pointed out that Ron was paying little attention to detail. Mrs. Weasley was agreeing with Hermione, which caused Ron to be more annoyed than ever. Harry was afraid he was going to be drawn into the discussion when a familiar face appeared in the crowd.

Harry stood up and yelled, “Hey Neville!”

Neville Longbottom was there and had just purchased a few sweets upon hearing his name. He came over to their table and smiled.

“Hey Harry, Ron, Hermione and um…” greeted Neville pausing as he didn’t know Ron’s mother.

“Mrs. Weasley,” answered Mrs. Weasley knowing that Neville and she had not yet met.

“How have you been Neville,” asked Hermione?

“Great! What about all of you,” replied Neville brightly?

They had a brief moment of talk before he stated that he had to go back to his grandmother and would see them on the train.

So they bid each other goodbye and the group prepared themselves to head back to the viewing of the museum.

Mrs. Weasley decided that there was a particular wing she wanted to see so Harry, Ron and Hermione went off another way. They entered into an area that was particularly filled with items considered the vilest of dark arts. There was even a sign posted at the entrance warning visitors that the contents could be disturbing.

In this room the walls and floor held an assortment of horribly shaped weapons, torturous looking tools and more things that had yet to be explained. Many items still had blood on them because much of the ministry people were too fearful of what it could do to clean them.

“This room doesn’t feel right,” said Ron.

“I know what you mean, its nothing but death here,” agreed Hermione.

Ron was surprised that Hermione didn’t argue about his reaction but then realized that Harry had his attention elsewhere. He was looking at something across the room.

“Harry what are you looking at,” asked Ron?

Harry replied without looking while beginning to move across the room, “Something familiar, I think?”

Harry began to cross the room each step a bit more hurried than the last. He maneuvered his way around, like a true Seeker, the crowd as they milled about He was determined to get to what was on the wall. It was sealed in a glass case and attached high on the wall. It was an oddly curved sword with a jagged edge on the back, a black hilt and though stained with blood, the blade was an odd gray color.

Something about it was drawing him. He felt as though he had to get to it. Unfortunately his task was interrupted in an unexpected collision. As Harry came close to the wall, he suddenly crashed head first into another person’s chest. Before falling to the floor he noticed this person’s chest was surprisingly soft.

Ron and Hermione caught up to Harry on the floor along side the other person. Hermione helped Harry to his feet while Ron, blushing furiously, helped up a young woman.

Harry finally stood up and looked at the woman he knocked down. Hermione was already staring at her, as was Ron.

As the woman straightened her robes, Harry could see she had very defined figure from her low cut top revealing her chest. Her skirt was much shorter than Harry head ever seen of a witch more of what he would see of girls in the city when his Aunt dragged him around carrying her things. Her hair was deep yellow blonde and eyes that seemed to be the color of violet. Harry noticed this with his own embarrassment but more so because of that fact that he didn’t understand why he was embarrassed at looking that this woman. Harry decided it best to apologize before things got awkward.

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking. I was distracted by,” he stammered but was cut off.

“Oh that’s fine. There’s a big crowd here so it’s easy for people to bump into each other. Are you Hogwarts students?” spoke the woman.

“Yes. We’re Gryffindors. I’m Hermione, that’s Ron and this is… Harry,” answered Hermione pausing at Harry’s name.

“That’s great… Harry huh... Harry Potter? Than that means your Ronald Weasley and you must be Hermione Granger. You three get into a lot trouble for just students. I thought you’d all be older or at least not that polite. I’m Maylen Nulbeck. I’m from the U.S. I guess we’ll be seeing each other more often if you all are as troublesome as the stories say,” said Maylen with amusement in her voice.

“Oh an American that explains the accent, “Hermione replied,” Why do you say we’ll see each other again and how do you know about us?”

Maylen laughed and answered, “Your reputations precede you in my profession but I’ll be at Hogwarts with you this year so maybe we’ll get to know each other more, especially with the way you get hurt Harry. Well I’ve got to go, much to do before the year starts. I’ll see you then.”

She left with a smile that left a blushing deep red color on Ron, a look of disapproving thoughts on Hermione’s face and Harry feeling quite unknowingly heated.

Harry made to move towards the mysterious sword again, the other two started to follow but yet again that were stopped.

The building gave a violent shake, making everyone in the room fight to regain his or her balance. People gave shouts as confusion settled in the room.

“What was that?” said Ron

“An earthquake?” answered Hermione quizzically.

“I doubt it,” stated Harry cautiously.

But before anyone could say anything more the shaking began again only without stopping. In seconds the shaking got more and more violent. Harry and his friends fell to the floor along with many others. The items in the room began falling off the walls and from their showcases.

People began shouting as they stumbled away trying to get out of the room. Harry’s group followed them but soon discovered that entire building was in the same state. The floors, walls and ceilings were starting to crack and pieces were beginning to fall. The crowd filtered back to the entrance tunnel where they had entered but as Harry discovered with the rest of the frightened crowd, the tunnel had caved in.

More and more stone pieces were falling from the ceiling leaving cracks and holes big enough to see that were more rooms of stone above them. People cried out for help, others were using their wands and shouting spells. Nothing worked and panic began grow.

“We’re gonna get killed in here by stone or being trampled, “shouted Hermione.

“Why don’t they just apparate people outta here or something,” gasped Ron as a large wizard pushed him aside running by.

“The whole building is charmed, magic won’t work against or through the stone,” answered Hermione.

“We need to blast a wall or something, maybe with a whole bunch of us at once we could break the charm,” bellowed Ron.

“Yes that could work a single powerful blast but we need to organize everybody and there’s too much panic,” grunted Hermione as she fought to stay near them when a group of people shoved by.

-A powerful blast? - Thought Harry –Maybe? -

Harry turned and started heading away. Hermione and Ron moved to follow but Harry stopped them.

“Stay here! Be ready to lead people out!”

“What are you going to do!” yelled Hermione.

“Something stupid!”

With that Harry vanished into another room. Ron and Hermione stayed where they were, worried to follow and worried not too. The violent shaking did not let up but the panic rose quickly. More and more wands were being used. Spells bouncing off the walls were hitting people. The falling stone had given away so much that people were falling through from the other rooms above.

Hermione pulled out her wand to try to help. She was calling out her spells to slow people as they fell or when stone pieces crumbled upon them. Ron did the same but it was hard enough against the crowd and falling stone let alone help people.

Ron was becoming exhausted in the struggle and Hermione was starting to cry as the terror continued.

As all seemed naught, when the unthinkable happened, a blast of blue magic cut across the air and hit the stone blocking the tunnel. In the resulting explosion, the tunnel entrance was revealed only clouded by swirling dust. People began to file in quickly not looking to see the source of the magic. However Ron and Hermione did.

At the entrance to the next room stood Harry Potter, his wand pointed in the direction of the blasted stone. His eyes were no longer green but blue, an eerie navy blue, and filled not just his pupils but also the white of his eyes. In his hand he held a glowing orb of the same color. They made their way to him just in time to see him take aim with his wand again.

He spoke the Reductor spell and his robes flailed behind him from the force of the next blast of magic. The spell soared through the air from the tip of his wand and hit the wall of the fireplace. The stone gave away easily, opening to the outside.

As people began running outside, Ron and Hermione tried to stay with Harry but he stopped them again.

“Get out! Help the others! I’ll slow it down,” came a hoarse but deep sound from Harry’s lips.

Hermione knew Harry was serious and wouldn’t be stopped but that didn’t stop her from wanting to stay however Ron did. He grabbed Hermione’s arm and dragged her away she tried to resist but he held her strong and continued.

She watched as Harry turned and placed his wand against the wall. Ron got her outside just in time to see the large building begin to glow blue. The shaking of the earth had not stopped and cracking of stone continued but, surprisingly, it all stayed in place. The glowing stone was being held in place but some powerful magic. More and more people ran out of the building many were badly injured. Ron stopped dragging her away when they found Neville.

He was completely confused not knowing what was going on but before anything could be said Hermione tried to head back but Ron grabbed hold of her again in mid stride.

“Let me go! We have to help him! Let me go! How can you stand there and let him do this! Let me go,” screamed Hermione struggling against Ron’s grip!

“Do you think I want to,” yelled Ron!

Hermione looked and what see saw as sweat were really tears. He was angry too. He was doing what he was told and hating every bit of it. Hermione stopped fighting and looked back.

The glowing started to fade until it was gone entirely. No more people were coming out. The quaking had stopped and all went still.

The world seemed right again as silence replaced the violent sounds heard moments before. The world did not stay right though; the badly damaged building gave way to its own weight. A thunderous wave sounded in their ears as the stone crumbled and fell into itself. In a single moment all there was left was a mountain of rubble where a magnificent museum once stood.

Next Chapter

From the Ruins

4. From the Ruins

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I would like the readers to know that Harry does NOT die. He is in contact with something, which will be revealed later. This is about his recovery.

Revised 6/30/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 4

From the Ruins

Ron and Hermione were motionless and the world was still.

The great museum once stood proud in its guard of evil now only a pile of mountainous rubble. Sounds came back into the world as cries of pain and shouts of confusion filled the air. People were calling out names trying to find their families and friends. Hermione sank to the ground but Ron stood frozen. They knew the answer to the question pondering their minds but not yet ready to accept it.

Ron pulled out his wand...

“The hell with rules,” he said through gritted teeth.

He headed for rubble and began using magic; blasting the stone while trying to dig into it until he found the person that was still inside. Hermione joined him but even their magic combined did little to the enchanted stone. They resorted to using their own hands moving what they could. Neither spoke but continued on with all effort against the heavy stone bearing little success.

As their fear grew and their strength faded a familiar sound broke through the crowd. It was a strange musical like sound and the two turned to look. A mist surrounded the grounds but a light penetrated the mist and forth came a red bird that was the source of the song.

It was a beautiful phoenix emerging from the mist and not alone.

Through the mist followed familiar professors of Hogwarts lead by Albus Dumbledore with Ministry people among them. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape, with a look from Dumbledore, moved to join the nurses and doctors followed by floating trunks most likely filled with potions to aid the injured. Professor McGonagall led others to the crowd to help the unsorted people to reunite. Dumbledore continue his way towards the rubble, he said quick comments to anyone who came to him. He definitely had a purpose to finish first.

Dumbledore withdrew his own wand.

In a firm but soft voice Dumbledore spoke, “Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley move behind me now.”

Ron and Hermione wanted to argue but a look in Dumbledore’s eyes changed their thought. His eyes, though usually kind, were filled with a strange anger. He was serious and now was not a time to question him. So they did as told.

“Fawkes, if you please.”

The phoenix, which had been circling about singing its calming tune, then changed its direction and soared high into the air above the rubble. It hovered, flapping its wings and gave off a strange sound. A moment later, the phoenix swooped up again even higher above the clouds until it was barely visible. A whistling sound reached their ears and Fawkes came into view again. It had changed its flight nearly straight down holding its wings together against the body. As the magnificent bird plummeted at amazing speed towards the rubble, its whole body glowed and then became engulfed in flames. The phoenix had made itself into an elongated fireball and smashed into the stone. A faint sound of the phoenix’s song could soon be heard.

“Right then,” was all Dumbledore said that could be understood.

He pointed his wand and began a slow murmur. Hermione and Ron watched in confusion. The stone could not be affected easily by magic. The air around them drew thin. It became a slightly difficult to get a full breath. Dumbledore closed his eyes and continued murmuring. The tip of his wand was sparkling with a rose colored light. Dumbledore opened his eyes and said one last word that no one heard due to the devastating sound that followed.

A roaring spiral of wind unleashed from Dumbledore’s wand. Many had to fight to keep their balance from the recoiling force. The spiraling wind hit the stone and dug through it casting the stone away like pebbles. It cut a path in the rubble quickly and easily like a butcher’s blade through a ripe tomato, encountering little resistance.

When roaring wind stopped, a glowing light emanated through the holes of piled stone. Without asking or considering, Ron and Hermione ran through the new path and pulled at the stone. It gave away and revealed its hidden contents.

Fawkes was laying on something crumpled. The bird looked tired but gave a welcoming chirp to their arrival. Ron reached in and carefully picked up the bird holding it gently. Being shorter than Ron, Hermione creped into the dark hovel revealed by Dumbledore’s magic to find a terrible site. Harry Potter with his face bruised, glasses broken, trails of blood were fresh from his ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. From the point of his scar there was also a trail of blood flowing down his face. His leg lay twisted, probably broken, and his hand where he held the orb was black from being burned. Thankfully his chest slowly rose and fell with the action of breathing. Harry Potter still had life in him.

Ministry people quickly bustled in, shooing Ron and Hermione away as they went to work on retrieving Harry from the rubble entrapment. They went back to Dumbledore who looked winded but happier. Ron handed Fawkes to the Headmaster who cradled the bird in his arms. He stroked the weakened friend and whispered his gratitude to the creature.

The ministry medics were slowly bringing Harry out on a floating stretcher. They were pouring potions on him and waving their wands around speaking their spells. Ron moved to approach but a medic gave a menacing look indicating him to stay away.

Dumbledore spoke, “Like a phoenix from the ashes… he rises from the ruins.”

Hermione furrowed her brow at his odd comparison and asked, “What did you mean by that?”

Dumbledore didn’t look at her but allowed his eyes to follow Harry and responded, “Only something I have wondered may be true.”

Elsewhere…

There was light but nothing seemed to have shape, it was dim place. Surprisingly though, the place was warm and comfortable. Harry felt as if nothing including himself was solid. His thoughts echoed about him.

-Is this what its like to be dead? - He thought. – Not bad... but I thought you were suppose to meet people or something. -

No young one, by your will with the strength and fortitude of others you still live.

A strange voice came from all around him.

It was an odd voice, not exactly human rather a deep metal like sound. Though he had never heard it before there was something uniquely familiar and comforting as well.

“Where am I,” asked Harry?

You are nowhere but with yourself.

“What,” inquired Harry?

It does not matter... I call to you to forge again a union long since lost over time… an old enemy has been freed from imprisonment after many years... I held back its power while the evil that wielded it was defeated... but now it has returned… as was promised.

Said the strange voice explaining something Harry didn’t understand.

“Voldemort,” whispered Harry in affirmation.

No… this is an older evil but from the same source.

“Then what does it have to do with me,” replied Harry.

That which has freed it is hunting you... their powers combined will make a formidable force against you… alone… only one whose blood is same as that which brought me forth centuries ago came call upon me again... together we can overcome this evil… as you and I have done before and can do again.

Harry called out, “I don’t understand. Who are you? When did we do anything together?”

Soothingly it spoke one last time.

Do not be worried, that time is still far to come and I will not burden you with it now... you know me already but understanding will come in time…you are needed elsewhere by others, specifically one in particular.

At that there was a flash and all went dark as Harry opened his eyes in a dark room.

His whole body ached horribly like one muscle in pain. While his body was sore his scar tingled in heat. He brought his hand up to message it. For a brief moment he felt a gooey substance touch his forehead when he placed his hand on the scar but it was only for that moment. When he moved the fingers, a searing surge of intense hot pain scoured through his arm into his spine making his brain scream in agony, which his throat voiced out.

A few seconds later there was a chorus of thumping as numerous feet came into the room. Voices were overlapping each other until a single familiar voice called out with fierce command.

“EVERYONE QUIET THIS INSTANT!”

It was the voice of Mrs. Weasley Harry recognized but he couldn’t see her or anything. The room was still completely dark devoid of all light.

The searing pain in his hand had dimmed to where it was bearable but still throbbing. All the voices had stopped but Harry could still hear the rustling of clothes and feet moving around him. He heard slight whispers and the movement of people near him but still not see them.

“Harry,” spoke a familiar voice, “Its Ron... do you know where you are?”

He tried to think only to discover that his brain hurt like his arm. His head felt empty and more he tried to think the less he could seem to remember. He caught bits and pieces of things in his mind and tried to answer.

With a raspy voice Harry replied, “Burrow?”

“Yeah, you’re in my room,” exclaimed Ron’s voice.

“Harry,” spoke another familiar voice, a higher pitch to its tone, a female voice and asked, “Do you know who I am?”

Harry searched his mind no matter how hard it was but all he could think of was a brown bushy hair, books and an orange cat. A name came to mind but he had trouble saying it.

“Harm… Harman…”

He took a breath and thought again.

“Hermi… Hermione”

“Yes,” said a choked voice belonging to Hermione.

A new voice entered the conversation, “Harry, do you remember what happened?”

A hand gently took hold of Harry’s painful arm and guided it into something gooey that enveloped it. All the pain stopped completely and Harry felt himself relaxing now as he continued to strain on the question.

Harry’s raspy voiced continued and he followed the images in his mind. His head continued to ache and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to remember anything.

“Um… a building… museum… an earthquake… everything breaking… I got something… broke the wall, “Harry stammered out the understanding he had and his head hurt so much that he placed his other hand to his forehead.

“Good enough, you can stop, this is enough to show that he’s coherent and his mind is still intact if not shaky for now. Since he recognizes all of you, I’ll let you do the explaining while I send an owl,” said the familiar unknown voice, “But keep it simple.”

A sound of something clicking brought an image of a door closing in Harry’s mind.

Hermione voice spoke to Harry again,” How do you feel, Harry?”

“Sore…” came his struggled answer,” Can’t see.”

“Oh, there’s a hex on your eyes to keep you from seeing any light. The doctors didn’t want you to wake up to bright light until you were ready.”

Something pressed to Harry’s lips. It was wet and his body wanted it badly so he just let instincts take over. He felt cool refreshing liquid past through his dry mouth and down the throat into a welcoming stomach. A moment later, he started feeling better and the ache in his head became less dulling.

Harry took a deep breath and feeling better spoke up.

“So how’d… my stupidity… work out?”

Hermione replied,”Not much more than a few broken bones otherwise everyone was… saved.”

“How did I get here,” asked Harry?

Hermione and Ron took turns, surprisingly without arguing, about how the building collapsed and that Dumbledore arrived.

“After that you were shipped to St. Mungo’s hospital. Mum nearly hexed the whole place before one of the doctors finally came out and said you were okay physically except for your hand and… other stuff. They wouldn’t let anyone see you... not even Hermione or me. Finally the doctor said that for now you needed was rest and you were lucky to still be alive and that we wouldn’t know any more until you woke up. So Dumbledore said you should come here and be around familiar people when you woke up,” finished Ron.

Hermione and Ron had left out a few details, especially the one of Harry’s scar bleeding when they found him.

“Here have some more water and then try to sleep some more,” suggested Hermione.

Harry drank from the glass that was pressed to his mouth. It had a refreshing taste again and his body welcomed it again as well. Harry lay back with the guidance of, which he was sure, was Ron’s hands and went right to sleep.

Ron sighed with relief that his friend would be okay. They left the room as quietly as possible, Hermione in deep thought with her furrowed brow.

“What is it,” whispered Ron?

Hermione looked at him and answered, “Some thing Dumbledore said.”

“What?”

“Like a phoenix from the ashes… he rises “spoke Hermione, “From the Ruins.”

Next Chapter

The Theft

5. The Theft

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: This is a short chapter simply to bring forth the next part of the main plot and nemesis.

Revised 5/13/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 5

The Theft

Ron sat in the living room wondering what to do. Since Dobby had arrived, every possible chore was being done the elf; it refused to let anyone do virtually anything. Ron so bored and worried that he even considered weeding the garden but had easily finished that much to everyone’s surprised. Ron could hear his mother in the kitchen having a fit at how Dobby was running her kitchen. Ron chuckled silently at the incident with the ghoul earlier that day.

Harry had woken for only a moment and went right back out with a little water from Hermione. Sooner or later he was going to find out what she was doing.

“You know you could do some homework,” suggested Hermione quietly.

Ron glared at her, “Well if you must know, Ms. Know-It-All by the way, I did finish my holiday homework a week ago except for the essay on talismans and we all know how that turned out.”

“Well don’t bite my head off about it.”

There was a sound of a door being slammed and a person gasping. Ron turned to look at saw his father leaning against the front door winded.

“Those damn reporters will be the death of me if I have to go out there again,” snapped Mr. Weasley.

The two exchanged greetings with Mr. Weasley as he passed by them to the kitchen.

“Molly,” he called to his wife.

Mrs. Weasley appeared from the kitchen at being called.

“There’s going to be a meeting here tonight with some representatives. They want to look in on things… Don’t give me that look they promised that they weren’t going to look in on Harry. Mostly, just to talk about some things outside the ministry away from so many ears and interruptions,” explained Mr. Weasley.

“Why here,” inquired Mrs. Weasley?

Mr. Weasley shrugged and answered, “Dumbledore insisted it and everyone agreed.”

“Odd? Oh well he probably just wants a peek at Harry and won’t admit it,” responded Mrs. Weasley, “I’m not sure Dobby will be delighted but considering Dumbledore will be here.”

Hermione and Ron looked back at each other after the exchange and silent agreement was already made.

“Think there may be another reason why Dumbledore wants to meet here?” asked Ron.

“I have a theory about that but it’s not important, let’s plan how we’ll attend,” answered Hermione.

They set off to Ginny’s room to plan and waited until after supper to begin.

During supper they had a preplanned argument to make it appear as if they wouldn’t do anything together for a while and bid goodnight to everyone separately. Ron had ‘borrowed’ Harry’s invisibility cloak and met Hermione at Ginny’s door. She let him into the room. Their plan was to eavesdrop from the kitchen window after they floated down from the bedroom window. She lowered herself down first and much to her surprise, Ron landed on the ground from jumping.

“Ron we were three stories up, how‘d you do that?”

“You want to chat or eaves drop?”

Hermione stopped inquiring and draped the cloak around them. They headed quickly for kitchen window as the representatives had already arrived. Ron had already made sure the window would be open with the help of the unknowing Dobby.

They stole a quick glance into the room. They easily saw Cornelius Fudge, Albus Dumbledore, and Mr. Weasley. There was a man from the Museum they had seen before and another wizard in the corner hidden by shadows of the kitchen.

“Thank you all for coming and especially thanks to Author for letting us use his home,” said the voice of Cornelius Fudge.

Dumbledore’s voice replied, “Quite so.”

A new voice followed apparently from the wizard in the shadowed corner,”Is it the correct understanding that we are here to avoid prying ears?”

They saw the outline of the shadowed wizard glance in their direction. He knew they were there even with the cloak. Ron and Hermione froze, not sure of what to do next.

Dumbledore answered, “That was the idea, why?”

“Just curious, not that I mind, just seemed a little odd is all. Let us continue now that everyone ‘invited’ is present,” spoke the shadowed wizard.

“Well we’re to talk of stolen talismans and Malleck,” began Fudge.

“Yes,” said the Museum wizard.

The shadowed wizard then asked,”What were these talismans?”

The museum wizard removed a parchment from his robes and answered, “The list is Colossus Orb, Geraus Ring, Hetan Stone, Niomia Necklace, Keock Jewel and finally… the Venarus Blade.”

“THE VENARUS BLADE!” shouted the shadowed wizard, “I should have been told sooner!”

“We discovered it missing only today as the finally cataloging had been finished with the clearing of the rubble,” answered the museum wizard.

“Dumbledore you realize what this means don’t you?” asked the shadowed wizard.

Dumbledore sighed and answered, “That I do.”

“They are all dangerous items, even the orb used by young Potter was never recovered,” Fudge.

“A broken marble sphere has been found but not verified yet to be the orb since there was no detectable magic in it,” mentioned the museum wizard, “Until a verification is made it must be considered as still missing.”

“Dumbledore, do you think Harry may still have it,” asked Fudge.

“The sphere, I would say no.”

“So we are to assume Malleck acquired these items,” stated Fudge.

“He would want those particular ones, not even Voldemort would go for the Venarus Blade. He may be insanely evil but not stupid. That thing would destroy him before he could use it,” said the shadowed one.

“After all these years what would he want,” asked Mr. Weasley speaking for the first time.

“Harry Potter” stated the shadowed wizard.

“Why, Harry wasn’t even alive in his time,” asked Mr. Weasley.

“A power struggle,” answered the shadowed wizard, “The only one to defeat Malleck was Voldemort and the one who defeated Voldemort is Harry... For Malleck to rise to the level of top Dark Wizard he must defeat the strongest opposition, the victor of his greatest enemy… Don’t forget he’s also a loon, he may be doing it because like students with black hair and green eyes… But the note was written and signed the same. Even with all the extra security he still got the talismans just as written.”

“We’ll have to watch Hogwarts closely, what do you think Dumbledore,” asked Fudge?

“I think that all we can do… is wait… and meet the challenges Malleck has whether it be him or not... Harry will most likely choose to face him, it may be his weakness to stand against evil that threatens those he cares for and we know Malleck is fond of attacking a person through others. I will stand with him during this and aid to the best of my ability. I know others will join but what I know is Malleck is going to attack regardless of where Harry is and Hogwarts has a better chance of supporting Harry than anywhere,” stated Dumbledore.

“I have been asked to help but I will see Potter in form before I decide, “ added the shadowed wizard.

“Thank you all for coming,” said Fudge and the group began to disperse.

Ron and Hermione headed back to the window with plans to talk.

Hermione had one thing to say on the way, “Malleck better be ready for a fight if wants to take on Harry.”

“You and me both Hermione,” agreed Ron.

Dumbledore had indeed wanted to see Harry.

As goodbyes were said among the meeting group, he stole away to Ron’s room.

Standing in the doorway, he observed, as Dobby lay asleep in a chair against the bed with Harry.

“So Malleck wishes to begin with,” Dumbledore whispered to no one, “the Theft.”

Next Chapter:

Recovery

6. Recovery

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: Dobby is brought further into this chapter. I do not know what skin color a house elf in the HP saga is. I do not remember reading such information, so I have given him one and if you believe I am wrong please feel free to say so in a review. I only use it for reference of recognition during Harry’s recovery.

Revised 5/13/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 6

Recovery

Time passed by but how much Harry did not know. Sleep had been comforting and much welcomed by all that made up his existence. There were no nightmares or calling voices. Only a deep slumber without interruption was what Harry’s existence had become and he liked it. Though, enjoying sleep, he knew others were waiting for him in another place. It was that and the thought that he wanted those others in his life as well that stopped his disappointment when the light from a sun brought him to awareness.

The lids of his eyes opened slowly with much distress but Harry fought his weariness with whatever strength he had. The blurred room, his eyes began to focus on, had a strong orange tone to it.

-Ron’s room- thought Harry.

He started to lift his arm, the same one that had held the orb but a strange weight held it down. He turned his head to see what was there. His blurred vision revealed something small and green with big points on the head.

His voice escaped from the throat he knew what the thing was, “Dobby?”

The small green thing made a frighten squeak and fled out of sight.

Harry laughed inwardly as his body did not have the strength to laugh out loud. He tried to move his arm again which moved a little but stayed limp. Harry flexed his hand and discovered that there was no longer any numbness or intense pain but a strong stiff soreness.

Noise of stomping reach Harry’s ears followed by a squeak and a hard thud which told Harry’s senses that a door had been violently opened. Then voices and blurred images were all around Harry.

A loud bang sounded in the room and all went quiet.

“Quiet, I need to check him over and I don’t want him beguiled with questions!”

It was a voice he still didn’t know but he had heard it before.

Without his glasses Harry was not able to make out the face of the person who scolded the loud group. He knew it was female and could make out yellow hair. HHe felt a strange sensation flowing through him and he felt heat grow in different places in his body.

“Well I’m satisfied; he’ll be just fine aside from being completely drained. More bed rest, some food and minimum activity then he should be back to normal. I’ll be off now; you have the instructions and you know where to contact me if something should arise. Good day and Harry… take things easy.”

The unknown female left and the group that had arrived earlier remained.

Hermione looked him over and could see that Harry was extremely pale, even more then when she’d first seen him. He’d lost weight as well but with Mrs. Weasley that wouldn’t last long. It bothered her that Harry was awake but she had to admit she wanted to talk to him just as badly as Ron. It so very obvious, Ron was sitting in a chair just twitching to talk but he continued to wait.

Harry finally found his voice and decide he’d seen enough blurry images, “Can I have my glasses now?”

“Of course,” answered Ron.

A moment later, Harry felt something slide onto his face and the blurred world became clear again. He saw that Ron and Hermione were both sitting next to his bed patiently but obviously bubbling with the wish to talk.

Harry tried to sit up but found his body had other ideas. Ron quickly moved and slowly lifted Harry’s back. Amazingly Ron was able to lift Harry into a sitting position and place enough pillows behind him to keep him upright.

Hermione’s face was turned and was a strange dark shade of red during this for some odd reason.

Ron had finished adjusting Harry’s positioned and sat back down with rather a proud look on his face.

Being upright had made Harry feel better so started the conversation, “What’s with you Hermione?”

Ron’s eyes narrowed, a wicked grin crossed his face and answered for her “You’re not decent under the blanket, mate. Could be a bit embarrassing you think? He’s covered by the way.”

Hermione turned back to them, her smile showing her own nervousness to the situation.

Harry had not the strength of mind nor will to dwell on it so he changed the subject.

“So how long have I been asleep, a few hours or most of the day?”

Hermione didn’t answer but Ron said it straight, “Five days Harry. One at St. Mungo’s then another one here before you woke up the first time, and three more after until now. You’ve been a bit tired apparently.”

“You’d think I’d feel as strong as Hagrid after all that, “Harry chuckled with difficulty, “Well out with it I’m sure there’s something you want to ask me knowing you two.”

“What’s it like being dead?” stated Ron.

Hermione gasped and surprisingly, was lost for words.

Harry however could see the humor… and difficulty… in Ron’s eyes. Harry got the impression that this was all bothering Ron really bad and he wanted to get past it. Harry decided that he wanted that for himself as well.

“Relaxing”

Hermione apparently decided that scolding Ron was not worth the trouble for the moment and decide to ask what she had waited to do.

“How did know that orb would help you and how?” asked Hermione anxiously.

“Well you said a really strong spell might break through the stone and the orb was called Colossus… the recording said it amplifies magic... It was the only idea I got when everything started… Seems to have worked?” responded Harry slowly in his still weakened state.

“It nearly killed you, “retorted Hermione.

“I said it was something stupid, “chuckled Harry.

Before Hermione could say anything more there was squeak at the door and voice whimpered out, “Potter sir, can I see you?”

Harry wanted to laugh but didn’t have the strength.

-When will that elf stop calling me that? - Thought Harry humorously to himself.

“Of course Dobby, you can see me when ever you like.”

The elf squeal with delight and trotted up to the bed. With him, he had a tray of bowls and cups. He hopped up on to the bed and placed the tray at the foot of it. Dobby handed Ron and Hermione each a cup of tea but he had other intentions with Harry.

“What’s all that, Dobby,” asked Harry.

“Harry Potter must eat,” stated Dobby and in an instant had a spoonful of some substance in Harry’s mouth.

Harry swallowed before he tasted the substance and before say anything Dobby had another spoon in Harry’s mouth.

“Harry Potter must eat,” stated Dobby again.

Whatever the stuff was, one thing for sure about it was that was absolutely disgusting. It had a similar taste to the Polyjuice potion only more like runny roofing tar. Which Harry knew the taste of from patching a leak on the Dursleys’ rooftop during a summer before his time at Hogwarts.

Surprisingly, though it had wretched taste, his stomach seemed to want more of it and Harry was starting to feel stronger suddenly. So he didn’t resist the elf but could hear Ron laughing uncontrollably and Hermione giggling. Harry realized it must look pretty funny to have small elf practically shoveling some kind of white slop into a larger male human.

Dobby would not stop until all of the contents of the substance had been consumed. Dobby scraped madly at the bowl getting every morsel he could and finished by getting the last drop onto the spoon with magic. The bowl might as well go back in the cupboard considering how clean it looked now.

Harry was able to swallow the last bit while clearing his throat to try and thank the enthusiastic elf for his efforts.

“Er… thanks Dobby it was delicious,” lied Harry with the best smile he could muster with the current taste in his mouth.

Dobby didn’t seem delighted at first though in fact he seemed to have a knowing grin on his face, which worried Harry. He didn’t want to lie to elf and hurt his feelings for trying to be helpful. Unfortunately Harry could see from the look on Dobby’s face that his polite attempt had failed.

Dobby started gathering things back onto his tray but responded, “Dobby knows Potter sir not tell the truth. Dobby knows the porridge taste bad. It suppose to taste bad, the worst the better.”

Harry sat there not sure what to say or do. Ron continued to laugh but if as on cue Hermione’s curiosity manifested and she inquired upon the elf.

“Why is it required to taste bad?”

Dobby glanced at her, pondering whether to answer revealed by the twitching of his ears.

“This called Bulanu, elf pudding,” cautiously answered Dobby.

Ron stopped laughing and was still in his position. Hermione seemed unaffected and Harry seemed a bit surprised both by everyone’s reaction and to how well he felt. Harry felt completely normal aside from his sore hand. His vision was normal and his body didn’t seem to agonizing to sleep some more.

“Well it seems to be working whatever it is,” said Hermione.

Ron didn’t respond so well though, “Dobby you understand that Harry’s human right and the Ministry…”

Hermione cut him off, “Ron its working what worried you on about?”

Dobby answer Hermione question before Ron could, “Some foods we eat poisonous to humans. But Dobby knows that Bulanu not hurt humans... just taste bad. Dobby used it on last master many times. Elves give to their young when they sick. Ministry not like it when Elves use their recipes on humans poisons not easily found.”

“Well I feel great Dobby, thanks” said Harry.

Dobby made a sound of delight and bounced out of the room.

Harry, now feeling much better, decided he wanted a few answers about some things as well.

“When did Dobby get here?”

Ron started snickering while Hermione answered.

“A little while after the first day you were brought here. He pretty much took over all the housework much to Mrs. Weasley’s dislike. Apparently elf magic is pretty strong,” began Hermione.

Ron decided he had to add his own comments to it.

“He’s been driving mum crazy... to have a house elf, they need to be registered with the ministry. Dobby uses his magic and some sort of alarm goes off sending ministry people here but the apparition charm makes it worse.”

Harry had to ask, “Apparition charm?”

Hermione continued on, “Like at Hogwarts, no one is able to apparate in or out of the charmed area. They kept popping out at the end of the street confused. So they’d have to go back to find where and then come back.”

Ron was chuckling, “Should have seen the looks on their faces as mum kept having to explain why Dobby was here and all. Finally Dumbledore just fixed it all with them at some point. But it didn’t stop there. Dobby fusses with everything and has cleaned every room in this house at least hundred times. Well maybe actually fifty times.”

Hermione now added with a giggled sigh, “The worst had to be with the ghoul in the addict.”

Harry wondered if he should ask but wanted to know what had been going with him asleep and if Dobby was involved it couldn’t be missed.

“The ghoul?”

Hermione opened her mouth, looked at Ron’s face and decided to forfeit to him.

Ron gave a laugh and began, “Well you know how the ghoul is always making noise? Well Dobby decided it was disturbing things and decided it was his job to ‘dissuade’ the ghoul from it.”

“Basically he got into a fight with the ghoul,” stated Hermione.

“A fight!” responded Ron, “More like a bar brawl! The house was shaking! They went at like Malfoy and me only they’re a lot rougher. Mom kept trying to break them up but it wasn’t working. She had Dad put a silencing charm in here; they were going at it pretty bad. Mom finally dragged Dobby down here kicking and screaming. I never knew that House Elves could swear but they can and it’s funny to hear it. Soon as mum tried to put Dobby down he go for the attic again, she finally had to stun him. The ghoul had a few words to say too but he seems to respect Dobby’s wish and has kept it pretty quiet. I think Dad made a deal with him. Definitely gave the reporters something to write about.”

Harry tried to hold back but couldn’t when picturing Dobby brawling with a ghoul and swearing like a drunk at it. He kept laughing even to the point of tears, stopping when he noticed that Ron was nursing the calf of his leg after having been kicked. Hermione was giving him a murderous glare. Harry wondered what Ron said or did that would make her react like that until remembered something Ron said.

“Reporters?”

Hermione’s glare at Ron only got worse and Ron had a nervous grin on his face. Harry got the impression they didn’t want him to know about the reporters.

Ron defended himself, “Well he was going to find out sooner or later, might as well be from us right?”

“I suppose,” answered Hermione stiffly.

Harry felt bad now, worried that he had caused a lot of trouble for the Weasleys yet again. He wasn’t sure how he was going to apologize for this.

As if Ron and Hermione could sense Harry’s thoughts, Ron quickly added, “It’s been good in a way... Finally gives Dobby something to do aside from driving mum mad... They keep trying to find ways in, from transfiguring themselves into stuff to sneaking in all sorts of ways. Dobby’s pretty good at sniffing them out before they get near you... We can’t leave without being barraged; mum’s hexed a few of them pretty good so far.”

“I’m sorry Ron; I didn’t mean to drag you and your family in more of my crazy life,” apologized Harry.

Ron looked very hard at Harry and corrected him, “Don’t be stupid Harry. We knew very well what we were getting ourselves into the first year. Besides these past few days have been hilarious with Dobby and the nutty reporters.”

“Okay,” was all Harry could say for the moment.

Hermione decided that time was up.

“Alright, you should rest some more and we’ll leave you it. Dobby is as bad as Madam Pomfrey, he’ll shoo us out of here soon anyways. So we’ll go now,” announced Hermione getting up and she pulled Ron with her.

With that they were gone with the door shut. Harry knew she was right but that didn’t stop him from wanting her here still.

-Why do I want her here so bad? - Thought Harry.

Harry took his glasses off and lay back down. Surprisingly he fell asleep quickly but he also had a plan ready.

The next day Ron couldn’t hold himself back, Harry was awake and he wanted to talk to him some more. Unfortunately his desire would have to wait considering the sight that greeted him in the bedroom.

Harry was gone, the bed was made and his trunk was open but no Harry in sight.

Ron ran down the stairs to the kitchen. Hermione came out her room ready to scold him on his manner in the morning but saw Ron’s worried face and instead headed to Ron’s room. In the kitchen, Harry was still not to be found.

“Where’s Harry,” yelled Ron?

“What do you mean where’s Harry,” shrieked Mrs. Weasley?

“He’s not in the room, “Ron gave another look and continued, “Where’s Dobby?”

Hermione appeared, breathless and worried. Before she could say anything Ron turned and ran. He stopped by the front door when a small breeze brushed by him. A thought came to mind.

-He wouldn’t, would he? - Thought Ron.

Ron opened the door just as Hermione came up next to him.

As the door opened, there were flashing lights and constant chatter. Among the voices was Harry’s.

Hermione gasped and Ron stood stunned. There was Harry, with a menacing looking Dobby right in front of him, answering questions.

”Have you been in a lot of pain?”

“No, my friends here have been wonderful.”

“Harry, why here and not the hospital?”

“The hospital has more important matters to deal with than babysitting me and I would rather be here.”

“They don’t have much money wouldn’t you…?”

“Riches can’t buy friends… I’d rather not be a wizard than not be with a wonderful family like this.”

“Do you remember a lot of the Museum?”

“No”

“Rumor has it you used a Dark Arts talisman?”

“Yes I did”

“Don’t you think it sets a bad example for your peers and younger students?”

“Probably I didn’t say it was right but something had to be done and I paid the price of my actions… Thankfully I had wonderful friends that helped me through it”

“Do you think the ministry is going to press any charges on you?”

“I don’t know it’s up to them I’m sure I’ll hear from them soon.”

“What is your actual condition?”

“You’ll have to ask a doctor because I’m not one.”

“Will you be going to Hogwarts?”

“I haven’t been told otherwise.”

The reporters were scribbling away on their parchments. The ones in the front kept eyeing Dobby nervously waiting for him to strike.

Harry gave a sigh, “Right then I answered all your questions if have more please owl me. Now, not to be rude but will you please leave so the Weasley’s can some peace for a while?”

Without a single bit of resistance, the reports trotted off. Harry turned around to go back into the house with Dobby backing in cautiously. Harry looked at Ron standing at the open doorway with an unpleased looking Hermione standing there as well. No one said a word until Ron had shut the door.

“What did you do that for,” demanded Ron?

Harry looked surprised at Ron’s question but answered anyways, “Exactly as I said, so we’d get some peace… I looked out the window and saw them all camped out there… So I got dressed and headed down. Dobby would only let me go if I agreed to let come with me... So I said I’d answer all their questions if they would leave afterwards. They agreed so…”

Whatever Harry was going to say he didn’t finish as his legs gave out as his mind suddenly became dull. Harry nearly fell except Ron grabbed him in time. Hermione let off a near scream. Ron easily carried Harry to a chair and sat him down. Harry shook his head and became alert again.

”Guess I’m not as recovered as I thought,” chuckled Harry,” Lets get some breakfast.”

Hermione had other plans, “Like hell you are! You’re staying in that chair if I have to make you part of it. “

-She must really have feelings for him if she breaking rules to use magic here? – Thought Ron.

He watched Harry having a fit as Hermione petrified his legs with her wand and levitated him into the kitchen where he was greeted with laughter.

“This should be a very interesting year with those two,” Ron said quietly to himself, “I may very well owe a sickle to Ginny if she’s right... Girls, they’re too weird.”

Ron headed for the kitchen to see Harry pleading with others to reverse Hermione’s spells and Hermione sitting proudly munching toast ignoring Harry.

He reminded himself that there were still things Harry needed to know about the Talismans and… Malleck.

-Well for now it’s a perfect time, - thought Ron sitting and reaching for toast, - for… Recovery. -

Next Chapter:

Showdown at Diagon Alley

7. Showdown in Diagon Alley

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I have not forgotten the dream sequence but its reoccurring role is interrupted by actions, which will be revealed later. I use a scene of a kitchen; I do not know what wizards and witches have for kitchens in the HP saga so please bare with me.

I would also like to apologize about dialect. I have never written a fan fiction using British dialect and thus only have the written material of the books to rely upon.

I would also like to literally beg for reviews. I can only improve with feedback. I’m not asking for in depth reviews but I would thoroughly enjoy knowing your thoughts and any suggestions.

Revised 5/13/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 7

Showdown in Diagon Alley

The cold night air was numbing Harry’s legs. His school robes were not during much for the rest of his body either. It’s always cold and always seemed to be getting colder.

He stumbled about on the gravel path following the wall of the corridor.

The smell of the putrid fog was burning in his nose and bringing tears to his eyes.

The muffled sounds from somewhere in the maze were less evident now but that crazed laughter still ringed in his ears.

Harry continued on, not knowing whether he was progressing anywhere or even going the right way.

As if sensing Harry’s worry and using it like sickening stage cue the demonic eyes appeared again.

Wind picked up around Harry again and a new element came into play in the form of a cold screechy voice.

Think you can stay away forever?

There was something familiar about that voice and Harry felt his chest go colder than world around him.

The wind grew in force and encircled Harry carrying the familiar whispered calling.

“Harry…”

“No!” shouted Harry as he sat up his forehead cover in sweat along with his clothes.

He massaged his scar out of habit but there were no sensations from it at all.

-Damn- thought Harry furiously, -Why do I keep dreaming that? -

Harry turned, looked out the window and saw daylight beginning to breach the horizon. He didn’t want to sleep anymore so he decided that he might as head down stairs.

However before Harry could leave the room, the door squeaked open and Harry turned to see Dobby slowly walking towards him with apprehension. Harry decided it best to play as though he wanted to be up this early.

“Morning Dobby,” greeted Harry, “I guess with all my sleeping my body’s clock is a little messed up.”

Dobby seemed to buy into Harry’s act and replied, “Morning sirs! Would sir like something for breakfast?”

“Not really, still have supper in me I guess but I am thirsty, how about some water or tea maybe?”

Dobby grinned in his elf way and took off like a flash out the door.

Harry stood up from the bed, putting on his glasses and noticed a letter on the nightstand addressed to him from the ministry. Harry chuckled slightly as he had expected them to scold him. However he had quite a surprise when a shiny piece of metal fell from the envelope upon opening it.

It was round and a symbol on the front Harry didn’t recognize. There was a small jewel in the middle that changed color every few seconds. The symbol was a shield with a broken sword across it as if the sword had broke when striking the shield. There were also a string of words that trailed along the edge of the metal.

Harry read the enclosed letter see if there was an explanation.

Mr. Harry Potter

It is our most esteemed honor to congratulate you on your bravery and thank you for sacrifice concerning the events of the Museum of Dark Arts. A total of four hundred and thirty seven lives were saved because of your quick action and decisiveness. We would have liked to present our gratitude in a more formal presentation but with the approaching school year and resistance of the medical staff of St. Mungo’s we have sent you the medal you most truly deserve. The Medal of Vigilance represents those who stand firm in chaos and strong in fear, Defenders.

The world would be a greater place with more people with the same generosity and thoughtfulness as yours.

In Honor of the Ministry of Magic and all those grateful of the Magic World,

Cornelius Fudge

Harry reread the letter again and held the medal in his free hand.

“Vigilance… bravery?” said Harry aloud to himself,”I saved a lot people I didn’t know.”

Harry crumpled the letter in his hand. A look of anger crossed his face before he turned and threw the medal out the open window.

“What about the people I did know,” growled Harry, “They weren’t so fortunate?”

Harry sat back down on the bed and said nothing more.

All of this was observed from the doorway left open by Dobby. A pair of eyes saw his actions and ears heard his words, but who it was Harry didn’t know as they disappeared before he notice when Dobby tiptoed up the stairs. Dobby never noticed a nearby closet closing as something Harry was hiding had been noticed.

Harry stayed awake the rest of the early morning. Dobby stayed with him but dozed off after a while. Harry pulled a blanket around the snoozing elf, dressed quietly and headed downstairs.

Harry crossed the living room into the kitchen. He knew Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t be awake but it was not a problem, he wasn’t hungry. Harry got himself a glass of water and headed outside into the morning air.

He sat on the swing bench again realizing how long since he’d been there. Harry watched as gnomes snuck into the garden from the back the bushes.

He had to grin at the sight; it looked like a bunch of potatoes trying to replant themselves in the early light.

“I wondered what Hermione would say to me being out here,” asked Harry to himself?

Harry didn’t know how long he had sat there but he noticed his glass was empty and he was still thirsty so back to the kitchen he went.

He stood at the sink and drained another glass of water. While refilling it yet again, he felt somebody nearby.

Harry turned to see Hermione walk into the kitchen already dressed in her robes.

“Harry you’re awake already,” said Hermione in a whisper,” Is everything okay?”

Harry tried his same act on her as he did Dobby, “Of course I’ve slept so much I guess my body is a bit off.”

“Really,” answered Hermione with a note of disbelief?

Harry decided to change the subject quickly, “Why are you up at this time?”

Hermione look showed that she wasn’t stirred but she didn’t push and walked further into the kitchen towards Harry, “I was hoping to be up before Mrs. Weasley. Dobby’s been working like crazy and so I thought I’d make breakfast. Kind of like a thank you to them for everything.”

“I’ll help,” said Harry.

Hermione didn’t argue and they went to work. They gathered plates and bowls from the cupboards, silverware from the drawers and various other items from other places in the kitchen. Cooking became a challenge, as Harry had never used a magic kitchen to make anything. He was use to microwaves and gas stoves but there was no microwave and the stove had no knobs for temperatures. Harry didn’t have a clue and felt rightly stupid.

“Hermione do you know how…” began Harry but Hermione had guessed what he was asking answered.

“You have to tap it with a wand three times to turn it on.”

Harry reached into his pocket and then robes, a flashback to his nightmare surface as he realized something about his wand.

“Hermione I don’t have my wand, in fact I have no idea where it is, “whispered Harry with a worried look.

Hermione smiled as she continued her task at the counter, “Oh, I forgot, Dumbledore has it. He said you could get it from him at Hogwarts. Here I’ll turn it on.”

Harry’s world altered into something else for the next few moments from Hermione’s actions.

In a swift movement she had brushed by Harry, her hair grazed across his face as she leaned by him and tapped the stove, igniting it. Harry’s senses went rampant, a scent from her hair set his mind ablaze in stimulus and his skin tingled in a strong tickling sensation from the touch of her hair. He felt completely disconnected from everything and stayed engrossed in these new sensations.

Everything halted when he heard his named called.

“Harry, “inquired Hermione, “You look a bit dazed. Is there something wrong?”

“No just got lost in thought there for a second,” replied Harry shaking his head, blushing.

-Yeah right, - thought Hermione –Sooner or later you’re going to have to tell someone what’s bothering you. -

“Would you get the sausages?” asked Hermione.

“Sure”

Harry opened the fridge and grabbed the sausages. When he turned around the sight that greeted him froze him in place.

He and Hermione were standing barely a few inches from each other face-to-face. Apparently both had chosen that moment to turn and move.

Harry looked down at the slightly shorter girl in front of him, her thick bushy brown hair flowing freely around her shoulders and down her back. Her chocolate brown eyes were wide and clear while full of emotion. Her rounded face was slightly pale in the cool air of the morning but her cheeks were flushed red. Her pink lips were parted; her breath escaped and blew warm air towards him. Harry found himself lost in her eyes as they came closer.

Hermione looked up to see the slightly taller Harry before her. His jet-black shiny hair was still its usual messy self. His tanned face had a ting of redness in its cheeks. Her face heated from the warm air that escaped his lips. His indefinably green eyes wide and inviting, full of mystery and hidden pains. With each passing moment she could feel herself drawn to him and she knew she wanted the result.

They noticed slightly that each breath was getting warmer and closer…

There came an unexpected squeal, which snapped them both to reality, and they separated!

Dobby was standing in the doorway of the kitchen in tears after he squealed in horror. Harry wasn’t sure he could explain anything; he wasn’t even sure himself at what almost happened.

“A Dobby…” began Harry.

“Dobby is forgetting breakfast,” wailed the creature!

Harry stood stunned while Hermione went into a fit of laughter.

Late into the morning they had all prepared for their trip to Diagon Alley but Hermione was being resistive to the idea of Harry going. While standing in front of the Weasley fireplace, Ron and Hermione were having it out.

“You should stay here,” stated Hermione, “There’ll be a lot to do and you’re not ready to move around a lot.”

“You’re as bad as mum,” snapped Ron, “Harry’s not a doll he won’t break.”

Harry stood in the off center of the verbal dueling duo. They had carried on like this for the better part of an hour during the preparation to leave for Diagon Alley. Mrs. Weasley had not made a fuss but she had a look in her eyes that made it quite clear how unsettled the idea was to her of Harry going with them.

“Harry shouldn’t strain himself,” snapped Hermione.

“What if I promise not to stop any buildings from falling,” said Harry trying to look serious while actually making a joke.

Anything to get them to stop fighting and arguing like he was a child was Harry’s goal at the moment.

Hermione gave him a murderous glare obviously not thrilled by his attempted humor.

Harry decided to try his way with Hermione’s type of thinking.

“Look I can’t stay resting forever. The doctor did say I should have some exercise,” explained Harry, “I’ll do whatever you say while we’re there. You want me to sit I’ll sit down. I won’t do anything strenuous; I won’t even go to my vault at Gringotts.”

Hermione glare became less serious but she gave in and agreed to the terms Harry said.

“Whatever I say,” she replied?

“Yes,” answered Harry exasperated.

“Fine,” she replied.

Hermione then swiftly turned, grabbed some Floo powder and tossed it into the flames.

As the fire turned green and Hermione stepped in, announcing her destination, she had odd smile on her face before she vanished into the network.

“You dug yourself deep this time Harry,” snickered Ron before following suite with Hermione’s path.

Harry stood for a moment, thinking and facing the fireplace. Something about the color of the fire was catching his attention as it seemed suddenly uninviting. A chill flowed down Harry’s spine and he was wondering if maybe he should stay behind.

-No, - Harry thought, shaking himself to reality, -It’s only the fireplace and nothing more. -

With that Harry turned the flames green with the Floo powder and stepped in.

Much to his delight he appeared at the Leaky Cauldron, Ron and Hermione on either side waiting as he stumbled out.

“Took you long enough,” chided Ron, “Get lost again?”

“Took my time,” answered Harry, quickly.

Hermione didn’t say a word but the look on her face clearly showed she had other thoughts to his paused arrival.

They headed for the back where an older wizard sat reading the Daily Prophet. He noticed the trio walking towards his way and stood up ahead of them. He went through the door that led to the secret entrance to Diagon Alley. Without a word he tapped his wand in the right places and the bricks played their role of sliding away.

He ushered them through with only a smile.

“That was odd,” observed Hermione.

Harry, however disagreed, “He’s just being same as the others.”

Ron became curious, “What do you mean?”

“Look behind us,” was Harry’s answer.

Hermione and Ron looked to see the same wizard talking animatedly with a witch and a few other wizards, pointing to the Daily Prophet in his hand then towards Harry.

They realized now, he wasn’t someone just being helpful to kids of Hogwarts, he was one of those people looking to see celebrities and he got his wish at Harry’s expense.

They walked slowly through the busy street as people were going about their day. Proprietors were outside their shops trying to get people to come in with various approaches and advertisements. They saw some of their fellow Hogwarts classmates also doing their school shopping. They had brief conversations with some of them otherwise gave general greetings and acknowledgements. One thing that was everywhere was whispers and quiet conversations.

It’s Him…

Potter boy…

The one who…

Yes the same one…

Wonder if he’s got another scar?

Just like the paper…

Seems smaller in person…

These and more were among the many whispers and subjects they heard as they walked on. Harry’s face was void of any emotion towards it but Hermione could see the trouble in his eyes. Harry was the center of attention again, the one place he dreaded most. It was one thing in Quidditch because then others were involved but in times like this it was all about Harry and he hated it.

His eyes were the only as evidence to his discomfort and Hermione realized that Harry’s eyes were the only thing that could not lie about him. A realization she would most definitely remember.

There were groups of girls in places, talking excitedly and glancing with blushing expressions towards Harry. Something Hermione show the oddest form of distaste towards them. Harry felt someone’s fingers entwine with his and his hand was being held. He looked to see Hermione looking straight ahead a slight pink tinge in her cheeks but did not say a thing to Harry. Many of the girls around stopped the way they were acting, much to Harry’s relief, but some had very strange looks to dangerous looking glares directed at Hermione.

They arrived at Flourish and Blotts, as they were about to step Hermione stop and turned to face Harry.

“Oh no you don’t, you’re going to sit right there,” ordered Hermione pointing to the bench next to the entrance,” You’ve walked the whole way here and now you’re going to take a break. Ron and I will get the books.”

“But I,” started Harry before he was cut off.

“Didn’t you say you’d do whatever I say,” stated Hermione a look of knowing triumph on her face, not to mention her wand in hand showing ever so clearly?

Harry got the hint, she was going to make sure one-way or another he kept his word and not persuade her otherwise.

Ron gave a sigh but a slight grin crossed his face as well.

Harry moved towards the bench as the Hermione walked into the shop, Ron followed mouthing a few words to Harry before stepping in.

“Deep… way deep...”

Harry sat there feeling like a fool as people passed by, some seemed to pass by more than once rather quickly. Harry realized that people were still going on about him and were trying to get better looks.

-Why don’t they just put a huge painting up somewhere and let these gits stare at that, - thought Harry furiously.

He was suddenly very glad that had not happened. Harry got the image of Colin Creevy running around a big overdramatic painting of Harry screaming at the top of his lungs for people to look while scurrying around looking for the slightest speck of dust.

It was a creepy thought and Harry figured this environment was better. At Hogwarts this wouldn’t happen.

An hour seemed to go by and Harry had almost enough of waiting. He just started to get up when a door slammed and he turned to see his friends Ron walking out with bags in each hand.

“What are you planning to do read the whole world Hermione, “ laughed Harry, “How’d you get so many books anyways?”

Hermione thought for a moment before answering, which surprised Harry normally she answered questions right away.

“They were having a quite a sale,” answered Hermione hesitantly.

“Looks more like they were giving them away,” remarked Harry.

Ron stood frozen and Hermione kicked him.

“Ron it must have been horrible for you to be in a bookstore so long,” chuckled Harry.

“Well let’s see then,” said Harry, as the group walked on leaving the bookstore behind, “I didn’t get to see our school list.”

Harry snatched one of the bags from Ron’s hands that was labeled Harry and started looking through.

“Hermione I think we should go back, I don’t see any receipts in this bag,” said Harry.

“You have to pay for something to get a receipt,” blurted out Ron.

Ron suddenly went white, covering his mouth and looking like he wanted very much to disappear.

Hermione reacted much more differently by shouting quite furiously, “RON!”

Harry closed the bag he was holding slowly; his expression was serious and narrowed his eyes making it hard to see them.

“They gave you my books for free,” asked Harry very slowly with a slightly threatening tone to it?

Hermione looked furiously at Ron and Harry got the impression that they had agreed not to say anything about it.

Ron explained quickly, “He insisted, we argued and everything but he wouldn’t take any money from us.”

Harry faced didn’t change nor did his tone when he replied, “If you had to pay for your books then so am I.”

Harry turned on his heel and started back towards the bookstore again.

However, what Hermione said next stopped him in his tracks,” Not just your books… we… we didn’t pay for anything. Yours, mine, Ron’s and the rest of the Weasley family, we didn’t pay a single Knut for anything.”

“Why,” responded Harry in a strangely quiet, unnerving tone?

Ron answered this time, “Apparently the owner’s wife worked at the museum and this is his way to thank you for saving her… and to the family that’s caring for you.”

“Alright… well let’s get our shopping done then,” said Harry plainly.

He turned back to them and they pressed on with their task for school preparation.

As they continued on, not another word was said but Hermione could see anger in Harry’s eyes. This was causing more of a spectacle and someone was bound to find out. Especially since the situation at the bookshop was not the only incident. Every place they went to was the same, no one would charge any of them a single bit of money, muggle or magical alike for anything.

Much to the surprise of many customers, they didn’t take advantage of their good fortune. They only took what they were required to get and each time asked for a price knowing what the answer would be.

By the time most everything was done, early evening had settled in and they needed to get moving to head home.

Hermione and Ron were getting really worried about Harry. He would barely speak; he stayed polite but only to the point. Ron tried many times to make a joke but Harry didn’t seem to notice. He kept his lips pursed together like he was trying to keep from saying something. His eyes were glaring at the ground and showing no sign of relaxing.

Hermione decided something had to be done or the whole day would be ruined. Everything had started with the usual quarreling between her and Ron. In the kitchen they almost did something she was sure would have been enjoyable. Then she was holding hands with him later and now he was walking off to the side of them looking ready to strike at the first person to talk to him. Hermione got an idea.

She stopped and the boys followed.

“What are we stopping for,” asked Ron?

“We haven’t eaten for hours and I’m getting hungry. We’re not leaving until Harry’s eaten something,” stated Hermione in an absolute tone, “You two wait out here.”

Hermione suddenly notice that Ron was carrying nearly everything and had not said a thing. In fact she noticed that Ron wasn’t even sweating or in way put out over the weight of everything.

-He has gotten stronger, - thought Hermione.

Ron and Harry stood outside a small shop where refreshments could be bought. Ron seemed preoccupied and Harry looked to see why.

Across the street was the Quidditch supply shop. Harry could see the prototype for the new Chudley Cannons Quidditch robes past a young blond girl on display in the store window. Harry could see that Ron was very anxious for he kept looking from the window and back.

Harry sighed and answered the question on his friend’s mine, “Go.”

“But Harry,” started Ron.

“I feel a little winded so I going to sit here, so just leave the bags here and go see the shop,” replied Harry, ”Knowing Hermione she’ll be in there a while getting the healthiest thing she can find.”

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment then set the bags at an outside table and headed off.

Harry sat down at the same table trying to clear his head from everything from the day. People staring and whispering, people in the shops embarrassing him, girls giggling like hyenas around him and worst of all he was being babied.

Unfortunately things only got worse in the form of one person, that he most definitely did not want to see right then.

“Harry Potter” said cold and familiar voice from a wizard that now stood before Harry.

Harry looked up into the face of Lucius Malfoy.

Harry stood up, reaching for his wand, when he remembered where it was located.

Surprisingly though, not having his wand didn’t bother him.

“Well so you are alive… for now,” sneered Malfoy, in a low voice,” A problem that can be easily remedied anytime.”

Harry started to feel different.

He started to feel… stronger.

“Try it anytime… Malfoy,” growled Harry.

Malfoy pressed on in his threats, “That’s Mr. Malfoy to you brat.”

The wind picked up and the temperature started to go cold. A rumbling sound could be heard the distance. The sounds of the street activity began to dim. These things and more were being noticed.

Malfoy noticed too but didn’t deter from his current objective. People were noticing the two in their odd stance.

Harry could feel the hair on the back of his neck beginning to stand on end. His hands clenched in fists as he gritted his teeth. His eyes started stinging as he felt an odd heat growing in them.

“Dumbledore can’t protect you always…” whispered Malfoy.

Harry looked straight into Malfoy’s eyes and saw something he had not expected. Malfoy had a worried look that appeared when Harry looked at him. Malfoy saw something that disturbed his demeaning manor.

“You’ll need Dumbledore to stop me when I…”

Whatever the rest of Harry would have said Malfoy didn’t know as it finished in Parseltongue.

Something about Harry was making Malfoy nervous. Especially as the temperature was getting colder and something was just not right.

“How are you,” began Malfoy before a new voice spoke up?

“Lucius how are you? I am so glad you decided to do this regardless of the Ministries orders.”

They turned to see a wizard walking towards them from an alley in the shadows. He was dressed differently than other wizards. He didn’t wear robes but more of a casual suit of the colors of teal and white. He wore a black cloak with the inside lining the color of violet.

“I knew the Ministry officials wanted to thank Harry personally for his efforts but some one as prestigious as you now that is something.”

This wizard gave Harry the strong reminder of Lockhart but something was different as Harry notice that the wizard had his wand drawn behind his back with another tucked into a pouch on the front of his suit.

Malfoy reacted differently; he was ghostly white as if he’d seen the devil himself.

“You are going to thank him, that’s why you’re here right?”

Malfoy’s breathing was rapid and with out taking his eyes off the new wizard he did as he was ‘supposed’ to have done with Harry.

“Right… well Mr. Potter I should let you be on your way. I just wanted to say that on behalf of the magic world, the Ministry and the survivors of the Museum that we are all… grateful… and are forever indebted to… you,” blundered Malfoy.

In an instant he turned and walked past Harry and the wizard but didn’t leave until one less thing was said.

The wizard was the one and only one who spoke in that last moment.

“Be careful… blood may be thicker than water but it is not the tie that binds,” growled the wizard to Malfoy,” It didn’t help you before and I guarantee it will not in the time to come.”

Malfoy walked away, leaving Harry with the unknown wizard.

Harry realized he had calmed down somehow from the distraction and world was right again. The temperature was warm again and Harry felt his winded self again.

“That was quite a show Harry,” snickered the wizard,”I’ve never seen anyone hold out as long as you in conditions like that.”

“Malfoy is a …” snapped Harry ending with a particularly nasty explicative.

The wizard smiled and replied, “True… but I wasn’t talking about Lucius… I meant Diagon Alley in general… everyone constantly nagging you about your wonderful heroism. I expected you’d have snapped by now, quite a showdown in Diagon Alley.”

Next Chapter:

Back to Hogwarts

8. Back to Howarts

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I apologize for the making everyone waited so long, I’m currently in mid-terms and my attention could not be divided.

I still would like reviews. I have altered my account so that any reviews are accepted.

Revised 5/13/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 8

Back to Hogwarts

Harry’s robes swished violently at his sides as he stormed into the Leaky Cauldron. The unknown wizard followed behind only a few steps away.

The establishment was nearly empty as the afternoon crowd had cleared and evening crowd would soon filter in.

“You’ll only wear yourself out further this way,” stated the wizard.

Harry turned on his heel and faced the wizard.

“I’ll do as I please,” snapped Harry before turning back and heading for the bar, he needed something to drink.

A second later the back door burst open with Hermione and Ron rushing in.

Ron dropped the school supplies onto a table as Hermione ran up to Harry.

“Harry, what happened,” demanded Hermione?

Harry stopped, gave her a quick glance and then turned to glare at the wizard.

“Ask him,” responded Harry quietly.

Hermione looked at the strange wizard knowing a certain something familiar about him. Ron joined them and looked at the odd wizard as well, realization appearing on his face.

Hermione peered at him and asked, “You were at the meeting?”

A smirk crossed the wizard’s face as he replied, “Yes I was and you two were the ones outside the window.”

He gave a quick glance at Ron before placing his attention back to Hermione.

Hermione was instantly suspicious, “How did you know we were there.”

“Invisibility cloaks don’t conceal everything.”

“Daken Valenor,” announced Ron with intense enthusiasm. His face filled with shock and his ears went red,” It’s been a long time Mr. Valenor”

Daken nodded his head in a respectful bow of introduction.

“Call me Daken; I’m not a fan of formalities,” answered Daken,” So you must be the young Ms. Hermione Granger… you’re not quite what I expected.”

“What do you want,” inquired Hermione.

“I’m here at the request of a friend, “answered Daken, “But I wonder if my help was necessary.”

A slamming thud from the bar startled Hermione who had been watching Harry from the corner of her eye. The bartender had given Harry a pitcher of water with a glass and Harry had been steadily drinking glass after glass during the short conversation.

“No,” responded Harry, “Your help was ‘not’ needed… Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t have done anything in front of everyone.”

“He wasn’t the one I was concerned about, “said Daken quietly with an inquiring look back at Harry.

A dangerous expression crossed Harry’s face, a look Hermione had never seen and couldn’t read.

“It’s getting late,” stated Harry blankly, “Your mum will be going crazy with Dobby having at her kitchen. We should go back.”

Harry walked towards the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron; pulled out a bag of Floo powder, Mrs. Weasley had given him earlier and tossed it into the fire.

The fire blazed green and Harry made ready to step in.

“There’s another reason why I came, “began Daken.

“I really don’t want to know,” cut in Harry as he stepped into the flame and vanished.

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace at the Burrow and was greeted by Mrs. Weasley.

She didn’t look happy but rather quite crossed. Harry could hear a lot of noise clattering from the kitchen and Harry got the distinct impression that Dobby was at it again. Mrs. Weasley had her coat and hat on so she must have been preparing to look for them.

Mrs. Weasley waved her wand around Harry making the soot disappear as Hermione and Ron stepped through the fireplace. Hermione was looking extremely unsatisfied and Ron looked distant. They dragged with them their school supplies, which Harry solemnly realized he had forgotten about.

“I thought something might have happened with you lot being gone so long,” snapped Mrs. Weasley,” What happened? You can’t have had that much to get?”

Ron headed up the stairs with the supplies as Hermione was getting the soot removed from her clothing and Harry took a seat at the sofa nearby.

Hermione was able to calm Mrs. Weasley, “Simplest answer would be Lucius Malfoy and someone named Daken Valenor.”

Mrs. Weasley peered into Hermione’s face and deep thought became evident in her eyes. Though Mrs. Weasley said nothing more of subject, she made no indication of worry any further.

Harry had a new problem though of where his attention was drawn. As Mrs. Weasley moved about Hermione enchanting the soot off, Harry couldn’t stop gazing at her.

Hermione’s skirt fluttered slightly, causing more of her legs to show. Harry was suddenly wondering if Hermione’s skirt was shorter because her legs never seemed that long before. Her robes slid towards her sides as the magic worked on her blouse making her chest more prominent in appearance. Hermione’s hair lifted as Mrs. Weasley worked to remove the soot from behind. Harry watched as Hermione tilted her head from side to side revealing more and more of her neck. Her whole face was brought into light from the fireplace as her hair moved away.

Mrs. Weasley commented that it seemed odd that Hermione had gathered so much soot on her but Harry heard little of it as he continued to stare.

Harry could feel his heart beating faster with each second and sweat beginning to form in areas around him. He suddenly found it uncomfortable to sit where he was and tried hard to sort his thoughts. He had a strong notion just to leave very quickly and get as far away as possible but an equally strong feeling told Harry to stay right where he was.

Hermione looked over at Harry and noticed he was staring.

-He’s looking at me, - excitedly thought Hermione, -I knew he would sooner or later. -

The color of Hermione cheeks changed to a deep shade of scarlet and Harry realized he’d been caught. He hastily stood and headed for the staircase, but Ron was standing at the base with odd grin on his face.

“Anything interesting Harry,” asked Ron in a fake uninterested voice.

Harry just eyed his friend unsure of how to respond to an obviously insinuating question. Ron had obviously seen the scene a moment ago.

Harry walked by Ron and headed up the stairs. Ron followed without another word of his insinuations.

“There’s a package for you in the room. Hedwig looks rather pleased with herself of having delivered it. There’s a letter with it but it doesn’t show who it’s from.”

They reached Ron’s room, Harry’s recuperation chamber as of late, to find the mentioned package sitting neatly in the center of the bed awaiting its addressee. Harry made for the letter setting attached on top when Hermione bounded into the room along with Ginny. Harry felt his face flush and heat up but he busied himself with the letter to keep his back to the girls.

“Ron, you open the package I’ll read the letter,” said Harry.

“But Harry it’s for you I shouldn’t,” responded Ron.

“I’m going to show you all anyways and I’m ‘in recovery’. Remember? I shouldn’t strain myself,” joked Harry.

He opened the letter and began to read as Ron opened the package for him.

Ron gave a whoop of surprise as he had revealed a large fresh box of Chocolate Frogs. He gave a glance at Harry who return gave an encouraging nod. Ron tore into the box and found individually packaged Chocolate Frogs, which meant new collector cards. Ron handed one to Hermione and Ginny as well.

Harry had quite a different reaction.

He finished the letter, crumpling it in one hand as he snatched a Chocolate Frog from the open box. He tore it open with an intense fury emotion evident on his face. Harry dropped the letter as he pulled the card from the box and examined it. He stuffed the card back into its origin and looked at the delivered box the fury not dwindling but rather intensifying. The atmosphere of the room changed but no one dared say anything.

Ron took a chance, “Harry what’s in…”

But nothing more could Ron say as Harry tossed his chocolate frog back into the box and made to leave the room. He sidestepped the girls and Hermione’s attempt to talk to him.

“Harry…”

“Leave me alone,” declared Harry.

With that Harry left.

They stayed where they were stunned, not sure of what had happened and just as unsure of what to do next.

Mrs. Weasley appeared, “What in Merlin’s name went on up here? Harry just stormed out the back door, ignoring me and Dobby.”

“Let’s find out,” answered Hermione and she picked up the crumbled letter.

She read it aloud.

Dear Mr. Harry Potter,

We have never met and I do not know if we will ever. However I must express my gratitude and I found that you are a fan of one my establishment’s sweets called Chocolate Frogs. So I have sent you the very first batch each with the brand new card we have designed for collection. There are legal matters involved in doing so but I hope you’ll forgive me in being hasty. I have three daughters that will be attending Hogwarts this year. The youngest two are starting their first year and my eldest is in the same year as you. I’m not implying anything, of course. Due to your wonderful courage all three were spared the horrific end that a Dark wizard had planned as they were all at the Museum with their Aunt while my wife and I were working. I cannot begin to express in words or in person the joy we felt when we found our daughters shaken but unscathed. I hope you find the new collector’s card in these Chocolate Frogs to your fancy if not I will be glad to change them personally.

Though we have never met, I know I will live a better life as will my family having had your grace involved. I’m sure that all those you meet will live better lives having known you or benefited from your actions.

Hermione finished the letter and began folding it neatly again as a tear slid down her cheek.

“I don’t understand? I know Harry isn’t fond of this kind of recognition but I don’t see why it would make him so angry,” asked Ginny?

“It isn’t the recognition,” began Hermione with a choked sob in her voice,” All these people keeping saying how wonderful it was of him to save so many lives and that he’s such a hero.”

“Isn’t it wonderful,” continued Ginny?

Hermione looked at Ginny, her lip quivered a bit as she answer, and “It would be if they weren’t reminding him of those that weren’t saved.”

Ginny’s brow furrowed in confusion until the realization set in.

The people were reminding Harry of those who were murdered to get to him she realized.

“This probably didn’t help either,” spoke up Ron with a sigh.

He handed Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley each a card from the Chocolate Frog containers. All were the same person, the same Harry Potter.

The picture was of him from the Tournament and on either side of the picture was printed image of a thunderbolt.

Like all Chocolate frog cards they had seen, there was an inscription on the back.

Harry Potter

Well known for his defeat of You-Know-Who at a surprising age. He still defends the world against the evil power of Dark magics. He’s had numerous triumphs against many dark forces while at Hogwarts which he currently attends. His second greatest triumph was being the savior of every life at the fall of the Ministry’s Museum of Dark Arts by holding the crumbling fortress together with powerful magic while everyone escaped serious harm.

They all read the inscription and knew very well that it wouldn’t be long before others read the same thing.

“Everything is going to get very interesting if this sort of thing continues,” said Mrs. Weasley as the seriousness of the situation settled into her.

“No kidding look at this, “exclaimed Ron.

They looked to see where he was pointing. Ron had opened every container in the box but what he was pointing out was that every one of the Chocolate Frogs were all melted flat as if exposed to a strong source of magic.

“I think things are already getting interesting,” whispered Ron.

The girls went with Mrs. Weasley as they headed for the kitchen. Ron stayed in the room to clean up the chocolate mess. Dobby was working on dinner and having a fit of not knowing where Harry was. They did their best to calm him. Mr. Weasley and the twins arrived a bit later. Each tried to ask why the atmosphere seemed very tense but each inquiry was answered with a glare from Mrs. Weasley and the inquiry ended. Harry reappeared much to Dobby’s delight, as dinner had been prepared.

They were all about to sit down at the table outside when a sound emanated from the house and Mr. Weasley suddenly spoke up.

“Oh I forgot we have a guest this evening,” said Mr. Weasley as he entered the house,” He’ll be staying the night with us concerning the business of the kids and school tomorrow.”

Before any discussion could be said as to whom it may be, Mr. Weasley returned with a wizard beside him. A wizard that reminded Harry of Lockhart while not dressed in robes but a casual teal and white suit. He was bearing a black cloak with violet lining.

“Daken,” murmured Harry.

“Daken,” squealed Mrs. Weasley with delight, “It’s been some time, you should write more.”

The twins and Ginny were very pleased to meet him while Ron showed the same signs of exuberance to this wizard’s presence.

Harry barely managed to say hello, Hermione was polite while Daken made to greet them.

Ron grabbed the arms of Harry and Hermione, tugging them strongly as he called out his mother, “We’re going to get some flowers from the garden for the table, be right back.”

“Hurry back”

They followed Ron to the farthest area of the garden to get the flowers.

Ron decided then to give the explanation they needed for this wizard.

“Daken is well known in my family,” explained Ron,” I know right now you don’t trust him but we’ve known him for years. He’s something of an Auror specialist.”

“And this is conclusive why…” asked Hermione?

“How about because he’s the one who dragged Lucius Malfoy, bloodied and bruised, before the Ministry to answer for his Death eater involvements,” stated Ron proudly.

Hermione’s eyes went wide and Harry thought a second.

“Just give him a chance or ask him about himself,” defended Ron.

“Okay,” surrender Hermione.

Harry said nothing and Ron took it as a sign that things were better with Daken.

Throughout dinner, there was conversation much of which Harry stayed out of. He barely ate anything only picked if anything. He was thirsty though; he seemed to go through water every minute. Dobby enchanted the pitcher to refill itself as Harry seem to empty it constantly. This and more was not unnoticed.

“Hey Harry,” started the twins,” We bought some Chocolate frogs today.”

Hermione went tense and Ron blanched white. Mrs. Weasley was trying frantically to swallow what was in her mouth.

“Its no joke but apparently they have a card on you now. We were wondering when you were going to have a signing session?”

It was too late, they had said it and now it was only a matter of time before Harry reacted which came with surprising force.

Harry laughed a moment and answered, “Colin Creevey’s probably already arranging it. He’s practically the president of my fan club at Hogwarts.”

“Well if he does, we want to be the first to have ours signed,” laughed Fred.

“Next to Ron and Hermione of course,” laughed George.

“Maybe,” answer Harry,” I’m getting tired I think I should head for bed. May I be excused?”

“Of course dear,” answered Mrs. Weasley,” Check your trunk to make sure you have everything. You’ll be leaving a bit earlier for Hogwarts tomorrow.”

Harry left the table, meeting Dobby at the entrance.

“Sir not like dinner tonight,” quietly sobbed the elf?

“I’m just tired tonight. All that walking in Diagon Ally wore me out,” said Harry,”I look forward to your cooking at Hogwarts and if you want to know my favorite breakfast is porridge and muffins.”

The elf grinned happily as Harry passed by on his way to bed.

Dinner finished and the elf refused anyone’s help with cleaning up. So everyone went to the living room to let dinner settle and continue chatting.

Hermione was fighting the urge to run up the stairs and see Harry but she wasn’t sure he’d enjoy being checked up on. Ron’s seemed to be having similar thoughts as he glanced at his watch and looked towards the stairs. Hermione notice that Daken kept glancing her way continuously. Each time with a knowing grin that bothered her.

At long last everyone agreed it was time to turn in. Ron used the excuse to check on Harry who was apparently asleep since he’d been bunking with the twins much to his dismay.

During the night, Hermione was restless and so decided to get some water.

She headed down stairs quietly but discovered not nearly enough.

“Up a bit late aren’t we,” said a voice in the shadowed corner of the living room.

Hermione looked to see a person with eyes shining in the dark sitting in a chair in the corner, a bottle of Ogden’s Fire whiskey nearly empty next to them and watching her every move like a predator on the hunt.

“Getting some water… is that you Daken,” asked Hermione?

“Yes”

“Well why are you still,” began Hermione trying to lighten an awkward moment.

She was very uncomfortable to be in her night dressings with this man nearby.

“I’m thirsty too but for something that I can’t quench but the whiskey soothes it for now.”

Hermione pulled her robe tighter together, now she was really getting uncomfortable.

“Don’t be surprised if you find this same scenario again only with Harry instead of me.”

“Why would you say that,” inquired Hermione?

“He’s following a path like mine, especially now… he’s withdrawing as you may have noticed… I did that and now the only person who knows me is Ogden,” explained Daken tapping the whiskey bottle, “I’m not a part of life… I observe it and step in when I can… I made the mistake of not telling people… a person… what I felt… and after the trouble settled the consequences destroyed me.”

“Oh well I,” started Hermione.

“What ever happens, don’t stop,” stated Daken ignoring her,”Hound him like mad no matter what he says or does… stop even once and you’ll start to lose him. I made my choice… but Harry’s life is preventing him from making that same choice freely.”

“I don’t know what I can do,” said Hermione, her instincts were telling her to run, that everything about him seemed wrong and her feelings were apparent.

“Being a female you sense something different about me… good… I am not what I appear to be nor is Harry… he’s not what I am but he’s definitely something else…”

Daken continued before Hermione said anything, “I know you care for him deeply and don’t give me that friendly garbage… I know those looks… you might as well carry a banner.”

During his lecture he had finished the bottle and was left only with what was in the glass.

“Harry won’t respond like other boys… I’d kind of like to know how he would respond about Victor... It’s definitely not a good idea for him to know right now… “

Daken finished off the glass and with a wave of his wand a new bottle appear filled to the top.

“Malleck will challenge Harry… that we’ll discuss tomorrow at Hogwarts… but there are other challenges we can do little about… dealing with all these ‘grateful’ people… the pressures of his peers… girls.”

The last statement struck Hermione hard as the image of Cho surfaced.

“I believe that challenge will be in your favor,” commented Daken with a note of finality in his voice.

Hermione forgot about the water and headed back to bed still restless.

The next day, everything was ready and the chaos of preparation was surprisingly avoided. The trunks had all been packed and checked. The owls had flown off to Hogwarts with their cages ready. Dobby had breakfast all prepared before anyone was up. Every student was dressed and ready to go. Daken was rather jovial with Mr. Weasley to Hermione’s surprised considering the whiskey he had been drinking.

Ron came into the kitchen as Dobby was floating cleaned dishes about the kitchen to put them in their places. Harry coughed and Dobby placed all his attention on Harry forgetting the dishes. They all fell clattering on the floor but not all of them went straight for the floor. One large serving plate fell straight on Ron’s head shattering on impact.

Dobby squealed in terror as he pulled at his ears. Everyone stared for the moment. Ron just shook his head and brushed the broken pieces from his hair completely uninjured.

Ginny placed her hand on the back of Ron’s head and looked at her hand.

“You’re not even bleeding,” stated Ginny.

Ron shrugged his shoulders and replied, “Guess I have a harder head than I thought.”

Everyone seemed a bit stunned by the incident but it dissolved, as Ron was okay.

“Well don’t bother with your trunks anymore Dobby has decreed that he will take them to Hogwarts for you,” laughed Daken.

“It’s not a bother to put them on the train,” said Hermione.

“That would be true if you were taking the train to Hogwarts,” replied Daken.

“We’re not,” asked Harry?

“Sorry no, Dumbledore wants to have a talk before the start of the term so we’ll be doing some special apparition.”

“Just us,” asked Harry?

“Arthur is coming as well and Molly is more than invited,” answered Daken.

“I’ll drop the others off, see them to the train and then pop back here,” stated Mrs. Weasley.

A short while later, the trio was instructed to stand together as the adults surrounded them. They held their wands together above the heads in the center. They closed their eyes in concentration. A slow hum filled the room and all became blurry. A moment later everything went dark and Harry found himself being held up by Ron at the Gates to Hogwarts.

“Well Harry here we are,” said Ron with a shrug, “Back at Hogwarts.”

Next Chapter:

The Beacon in the Void

9. Beacon in the Void

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I sincerely apologize for the wait but now my midterms are over I should be able to post sooner.

I still very much beg for reviews.

I’ll be introducing a timeline. According to book 2 CoS, Tom Riddle was at Hogwarts around fifty years ago and I don’t believe that James and Lily were nearly fifty years old when Harry was born. Suggesting to me that Voldemort began his dwelling into Dark power before James and Lily were at Hogwarts. So I am taking liberty in saying that Harry’s parents were in their late twenties upon Harry’s birth giving a near 20-year gap between Harry’s parents being at Hogwarts and Voldemort leaving the school.

I want to say a head of time this is not my favorite chapter. It didn’t seem to flow as well as I wanted it too but it’s mostly to introduce a few new bits of information.

Revised 5/13/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 9

The Beacon in the Void

The gates of Hogwarts...

It felt less welcoming to Harry then before…

Mr. Weasley opened the Gates with his wand with a few taps to the lock and mumbled words. He stepped through along with his wife. Ron made to follow with Harry beside him but realized Harry wasn’t moving.

“What’s the matter Harry,” asked Hermione from behind.

Ron turned to look at Harry and noticed the apprehensive thought upon his face.

“It’s Hogwarts,” joked Ron, “we’re early but we’ll get choice seats at the Great Hall.”

Harry lowered his head, looking at the ground and the apprehension in his look growing even more intense.

Ron stole a confused glance at Hermione. Both didn’t know what to say, Harry wasn’t answering and it had never been a difficulty to get Harry to come to Hogwarts, he always wants to come.

“Every year I‘ve come here, something bad happens and people get hurt… and each year gets worse.”

Harry spoke his worry but it didn’t help him to move. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had stopped up ahead to see why they were not being followed. Mrs. Weasley began to walk back but her husband stopped her with a few unheard words and a touch to her arm. She didn’t look pleased about stopping but did so. At the gates, Ron and Hermione were trying desperately to say something but the truth was Harry was right. Each year a new danger came to Hogwarts and each year was more dangerous.

Hermione wanted to find something that could help and Ron was about to grab Harry to drag him onto the grounds.

A hand came to rest on Harry shoulder and Harry turned around at the tugging hand. Hermione and Ron moved to be next to him to hear what Daken had to say.

“Not by your choice... bad things have happened every year at Hogwarts… there has always been something with a reason to bring a fight to here and there have always been those caught in it… luckily there have always been those to resist, “reassured Daken.

Before letting Harry go he added, “You never knew how the Marauders were created… well I’ll tell you this much for now, it wasn’t just for pranks… they dealt with their dark challenges as well.”

Harry turned back and with some trepidation, slowly walked on. Ron and Hermione stuck close to his sides, just in case. No one said a word as they approached the castle.

As they reached the main entrance, the doors opened and revealed Professor McGonagall.

“Molly, Arthur so nice to see you again, “happily greeted Professor McGonagall, “Hermione, Ron and Harry I’m glad you came at our request.”

The three students just stared at her; she had never greeted them with their first names let alone hardly ever spoke them.”

She must have realized their reaction because she responded; “The school year has not started yet so I am not your professor for now.”

“Hello Professor… Ms. McGonagall…” replied Ron awkwardly.

“Hello to you all,” said McGonagall,” How are you doing Harry?”

The question was said with such sincerity Harry had hardly ever heard from her before that he wasn’t sure how to answer.

“A bit more of sleep would be nice with less buildings falling on me,” chuckled Harry.

“Quite so Harry,” smiled McGonagall and then to everyone, “Dumbledore is at the Ministry finishing some start of term details. He’s asked if you’d wait in his office… Oh and Ms. Granger I will need to see you in my office after the Start of Term feast.”

“Yes ma’am,” replied Hermione.

McGonagall led them into Hogwarts and through the interconnecting halls of the castle. The Weasley parents made comments followed with some giggles as they pass corridors and classrooms, reminiscing of the past.

Harry had memories that surfaced during the course of their travel to the Headmaster’s office. Every few moments they passed an area he knew well.

The entrance hall when Peeves the Poltergeist pelted them with icy cold water balloons…

The place where Malfoy was turned into a bouncing white ferret from the imposter, Moody...

The corridor to the girls’ bathroom, which became the battleground of the mountain troll…

The wall where he heard the Basilisk for the first time…

The landing where Justin was found after the basilisk attack…

The hallway where Malfoy boasted his knowledge of Sirius Black…

The doorway where Cho was grief stricken after the tournament…

The stairway where he had told Cedric of the dragons…

So many memories of people been hurt or where he had been dragged into danger…

-It’ll never end, - thought Harry as they passed the infamous, to him, stairway, -As long as I keep going more will get hurt… -

He didn’t have much more time to dwell on it as McGonagall had stopped in front of the statue to the Headmaster’s office.

“Sugar bugs,” stated the professor.

The statue wiggled a moment and then began to slide to reveal the secret entrance. Harry followed the others up the winding staircase into the awaiting office.

Dumbledore’s office was much the same as the many times Harry had been there. Portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts still littered the walls of the office amongst the many cupboards and shelves of strange magical objects. The only additive was that in preparation for this meeting more plush chairs had been added to the room and unless he was mistaken, the room itself had been enlarged for the extra people. A fire was burning brightly in the fireplace.

Fawkes was perched on the desk, chirping and rustling its feathers every so often. Fawkes chirped quite loudly when Harry entered the room and he moved to give the Phoenix a scratch to its chin but he was stopped when the bird changed its posture. Daken had entered the room and the Fawkes went completely silent. Its eyes narrowed and the whole body went rigid except for the head, which followed Daken’s every move. All Harry could deduce was that Fawkes didn’t like Daken and that made his own suspicions of the mysterious wizard even stronger.

Harry stared at Daken examining him closely for once to see why Fawkes had such strong disliked. Daken was still dressed in a casual suit but colors of dark blue and tan now. He still wore a cloak with an inner lining of violet. Daken’s hair was a familiar blonde that Harry knew he had seen before. It was Daken’s eyes that Harry became truly suspicious of. They were the color of fine silver. Otherwise nothing else seemed out of the ordinary.

“Please have a seat, the Headmaster should be back at any moment,” said McGonagall waving towards the chairs.

As the seats began to fill, Daken decided stand by the window and Harry decided to ask about Fawkes.

“Why doesn’t Fawkes like you?”

Daken looked them both over, with a grin and replied, “Phoenixes’ have trouble with certain kinds... of people.”

Harry was going to ask further on the subject but the door opened and Dumbledore entered.

There was flurry of greetings between everyone before Dumbledore ushered everyone into having a seat. Daken remained by the window and Fawkes didn’t even acknowledge Dumbledore’s presence never moving its eyes away from Daken.

Harry sat in the furthest corner from everyone, as did Ron. Comments were being exchanged amongst the adults. Harry found himself not paying attention to anything but one person. He was watching Hermione on the other side of the room. She was saying a few things to Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore.

Harry heard nothing of words, just gazed as the firelight dance on Hermione’s form.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, the scene was enchanting and he felt a strong desire growing. He wanted to be closer to her, alone with her. He wanted…

“Harry!”

Harry shook himself back into reality as heard his name announced loudly.

He blushed as he looked at Dumbledore who was looking at Harry with an odd and somewhat knowing grin.

“Yes sir,” replied Harry?

Dumbledore sat examining Harry with his twinkling eyes, his hands folded on the desk and his brow raised with questioning thought.

“I was asking how you were doing,” asked Dumbledore, his voice implying more questions than he was saying.

Harry sat stunned for a second.

-That was weird, - Harry asked himself, -Why am I thinking about Hermione? -

“I’m fine sir,” answered Harry, “I was just thinking about… some things.”

“Indeed,” replied Dumbledore.

Harry became instantly uncomfortable. Everyone was looking at him and it was apparent that Dumbledore probably knew Harry’s thoughts. An idea Harry was certainly not fond of and even less that all the focus was on him now.

Fortunately Daken dissolved the awkward moment, with unexpected help from Fawkes, when he made to remark on Harry’s inattentiveness.

“Much too young for serious thinking,” jokingly began Daken as moved towards Harry.

Fawkes had other ideas of Daken’s approach though.

The phoenix unleashed a loud screech at Daken and spread its wings in a threatening manner. All the while its whole body ignited in flames.

Daken stared grimly at the bird, a severe dislike in his look but a reluctance to act in his posture.

Instead Daken spoke, “I thought you said Fawkes would be okay with this arrangement?”

Dumbledore replied lightly, “He hasn’t attacked you but he seems to be protective of Harry… Give him time he will see past all.”

Daken backed away slowly towards his initial position by the window. Fawkes calmed down and chirped once or twice from Dumbledore calming strokes. Yet again Fawkes would not stop watching Daken who in turn looked rather unpleased at the bird’s reactions.

A silence followed but Hermione broke it.

“Why did you want to meet with us,” asked Hermione?

Dumbledore answered, “A new threat has come to Hogwarts.”

“What is Voldemort up to this time,” retorted Ron,” Out to kill Harry maybe.”

Dumbledore looked hard at Ron for a moment and then continued to tell an explanation, “No… Not this time… This time a dangerous wizard known as Malleck has threatened this school.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a quick look of surprise. Since when we’re they told a head of time like this.

Harry gave his own reply in asking, “Another Barty Crouch Jr. I take it?”

“No… Malleck is not a supporter of Voldemort rather his opponent,” answered Dumbledore, “But in his time Malleck was the most fear dark wizard before falling from power.”

Harry was confused and let it be known, “Then what does he want with me? I understand I’m supposed to be responsible for the defeat of one evil wizard?”

Daken turned from facing the window and answered for Dumbledore, “You didn’t defeat Malleck but Voldemort did.”

“So what does this have to do with me, he should go after Voldemort,” pointed out Harry.

Dumbledore stood and walked towards the fireplace answering, “Malleck has a unique view on the steps towards empowerment… Voldemort defeated him and you defeated Voldemort… His sense of things leads him to the idea that defeating the victor of Voldemort will entitle him again.”

“Sounds like another nut to me,” said Ron with a tone of humor.

“Don’t take Malleck likely,” snapped Daken darkly,” Crazy yes but vicious crazy… Voldemort and Malleck are complete opposites in their desires… Voldemort wants power, domination and control… Malleck cares nothing for any of that… “

Ron shifted uncomfortably and Daken continued.

“Malleck is a man of chaos and he loves it… He murders people for thrill of watching their life drain away and a once warm soul becomes a cold carcass… He doesn’t use the Death curse… Malleck uses whatever magic is slow and painful… He lives, breathes and dines in the chaotic hells he inflicts upon people.”

Mrs. Weasley was silently panicking but her shaking gave away her feelings. Mr. Weasley was comforting her as best as he could. Hermione was rubbing her hands together nervously, looking off to the side thinking. Professor McGonagall had her lips pursed so hard they had disappeared. Dumbledore stared quietly at the fire. Ron was obviously angry from the scowl on his face. Daken was really upset and Harry wasn’t sure how to take all this in.

“So why are you telling us all this,” asked Hermione?

Professor McGonagall stood up.

“You three have gotten yourselves into the mix a number of times and no matter what we have tried to prevent it… So we decided it best to simply inform you now and hopefully work together this time”

Dumbledore spoke up with a somber voice, “Malleck wants to best you Harry and we don’t know how… We know he was responsible for the fall of the Museum from a specific mark left behind at the scene… Malleck has taken dangerous talismans from the Museum and we fear he plans to use them here… As Daken said Malleck enjoys chaos, so I fear he wants to challenge us or namely Harry to gain what he wants.”

“What were these talismans,” asked Hermione pretending she had not heard before.

Surprisingly Mr. Weasley spoke, “Oh I was given a list…Ah here we go”

He pulled a parchment from his pocket, stood up and began to read.

The items believe stolen are;

Colossus Orb

This item enables the witch or wizard to amplify the strength and effect of their spells. It was created from elemental magic, specifically the element of lightning.

Hetan Stone

This item is known only for creating earthquakes that begin and continue, reaching severe intensity quickly.

Niomia Necklace

A powerful control device that can implant the desires, memories and more into a victim making them do or believe anything.

Keock Jewel

A jewel believed to be a torture device as it is capable of creating endless rings of flame that cannot be put out by usual means. However these flames do not kill the intended by burning but seals the victims in an intense radius of heat.

Geraus Ring

Nothing is well known of this item as it was only recently acquired. All that is known is a recent but partial translation. ‘Body of flesh and bone, shall be as stone.’

Venarus Blade

Believe to the most dangerous loss of the Museum. It makes the handler immune to most magic. The blade of the sword is tempered so that it is always laced with venom, which deals devastating damaging to anything it touches. History records that anyone not of the Venarus family will be poisoned by the blade leading to eventual death.

“Well that’s what is missing and the research is continuing,” finished Mr. Weasley.

“Each dangerous in their own right,” stated Dumbledore.

Daken responded, “I’m curious about the Geraus Ring… Body of flesh and bone shall be as stone… Sounds very much like an entrapment talisman… Turns a person to stone I wonder?”

Dumbledore shifted his glance to Daken, “And what of Venarus?”

Daken grinned cynically and stated grimly, “My grandfather died to put that damn thing into a hidden place only to have those ministry fools put it in a museum… Now there is one only power that exists to defeat Venarus but there is no one who can wield it because no heir was ever born… The one who uses Venarus will die with it… along with anybody wounded by it.”

“Perhaps,” replied Dumbledore, “Well you know much of what we know now. I ask each of you to be willing to help us by informing the staff of any suspicious things. You can move among the students and can hear things we cannot. In turn we will alert each of you to any new information we gather. Do we agree?”

Ron, Hermione and the Weasley adults agreed immediately.

Daken gave a quick nod

However Harry had other thoughts.

“I won’t promise anything,” stated Harry,” But I will watch for trouble and report it if I can.”

Dumbledore gave a final nod and a glance to Professor McGonagall signaling the end of their meeting.

Everyone began saying his or her goodbyes. Mrs. Weasley gave each of the kids a hug and encouraging whispers to each. Whatever she said to Hermione made her blush and Ron grinned at his mum’s words to him.

During her embrace to Harry she whispered, “Remember Harry you are a part this family too. Don’t go at it alone, let us help you.”

Daken went with the Weasleys to see them off the grounds. Professor McGonagall ushered the students to follow her out. Hermione and Ron stepped out with McGonagall and Harry followed last but was stopped by Dumbledore just he had his back to him with one step out the door.

“Harry I will not claim to understand what you’re feeling but I do know that if you keep burying your emotions they will return with explosive consequences… In short, don’t hold back your emotions or an unwelcome part of you may be released”

Harry didn’t reply but continued on out of the office and down the stairs.

Once through the hidden entrance Harry found Ron waiting for him.

“Where’s Hermione and Professor McGonagall,” inquired Harry?

“Professor said she had to talk to the Hermione alone about something,” answered Ron with a shrug, “We’re supposed to go to the Great Hall and wait.”

“Actually Ron, I’d rather get some more sleep so I’m going to go to the dorm and I’ll come to the feast later.”

“I’ll meet up with Daken then,” replied Ron.

Harry looked at his friend and warned, “Be careful around him Ron. He may be a family friend but he’s hiding something serious.”

Ron gave Harry an interesting grin but he nodded in agreement.

Harry went off to the dorm and Ron went down the hall. He didn’t have any trouble getting into the tower as the Fat Lady let him in easily. Harry climbed into the boys 5th year dormitory and collapsed onto a bed.

-Alone at last, - thought Harry before falling into a dreamless sleep.

Time past by as Harry slept on. The Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogsmeade as it had done the past fours years and the many years before.

The new students crossed over the lake with the boats and were awed by the giant squid in the water. The later year students were taken to the awaiting castle in the usual style of the horseless carriages. The new students were greeted at the entrance and led into the Great Hall among the already seated students to be sorted. Professor McGonagall read off the list of names and the Sorting hat did its task. Students took their places and McGonagall called them all to attention.

Dumbledore stood to make is announcements and call forth the feast.

Students chatted and ate heartily, while the Professors spoke among themselves. Daken was sitting beside Professor McGonagall speaking very little and eating practically nothing but drinking heavily.

“Hermione did you notice Hagrid isn’t here,” said Ron realizing the empty seat,” I wonder who brought the new students over?”

“I don’t know,” answered Hermione and added a question of her own,” When did Harry say he would come to the feast?”

“He said later but if he misses it we can take something up to him… Or maybe Dobby is force feeding him again,” answered Ron with a snicker.

“Maybe, I just don’t like the idea of him alone without us right now,” added Hermione.

They continued their meal and chatted casually with other students. That continued until Neville spoke up louder than anyone else.

“Does anybody here that,” asked Neville?

“Hear what…” began Ron but he was cut off.

A deep buzzing sound like bees began to fill the room. The light from the torches were dimming and the bewitched ceiling vanished leaving only the arching rooftop.

Students were noticing the effects and worry began to grow.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and had the same answer to the questions.

Malleck

Daken stood up quickly and shouted to Dumbledore, “It’s a void spell!”

Dumbledore stood quickly angrily announcing loudly, “Prefects lead all students to the dormitories now!”

Unfortunately the timing was late, as the doors to the Great Hall slammed shut before any of the students could move out.

Ron ran up to the doors and was joined by Daken.

“We don’t have much time, when the spell finishes we’ll be helpless,” spoke Daken quickly.

Ron grabbed hold of the handle of one door and began to pull. He strained hard but to no avail. There was a sound of straining metal and the handle broke off.

“What is the counter spell,” yelled Ron pulling out his own wand!

“There isn’t one known,” spoke Dumbledore as he appeared behind them, “It seals the room and nullifies any magic within. Since the doors are sealed and the torches are fading, then the spell is in effect and we can do nothing but try to find a way to break out.”

As expected, all the torches became extinguished and darkness consumed the room. Worry became panic and fear was accompanied by cries and screams.

“Well I’ll say this about Malleck,” growled Ron,” He doesn’t loaf about.”

The small group could only rely on their voices to keep an idea of their position.

“Dumbledore, I can’t be in here for much longer, there is too much fear and too many… people,” spoke Daken with worry clearly in his voice.

At that moment a thundering boom of wood cracking was heard from the Great Hall doors.

Everyone went silent.

Another thundering boom came again and more followed, each sooner and louder than the next.

Daken whispered cautiously, “Sounds like a mountain troll…whatever it is its powerful and we’re sitting ducks…”

“We shall handle as best as we can,” stated Dumbledore plainly.

The bombarding sounds of cracking wood stopped and were replaced by a loud hissing followed by a large red glow in the center of the doors.

People backed away as steam hissed from the glow.

“Ron if you make it out of this and I don’t please tell Harry…” began Hermione.

“Tell him your-self,” snapped Ron, “I plan to win this even without a wand.”

An explosive blast smashed through the door creating an opening.

The bright light from the hall blinded those nearest but the eyes focused enough to see a figure step through…

“Somebody want to tell me what the bloody hell is going on,” said the figure?

“Harry,” said Ron?

“Who did you expect?”

Hermione’s eyes came into focus and she could see Harry Potter standing in the hole made in the doors. Sweat covered his face and his breathing was hard but there he was standing in the flooding light from the hall, which had broken the void spell.

Students cheered and quickly filed out of the Great Hall through Harry’s opening. He and Ron stood on either side with other Professors helping students through.

Hermione realized that she had to make a very serious decision if she was going to help her friends through this. A choice that she knew Professor McGonagall would not like but it had to be done. So she moved to help them further having made her choice.

Daken and Dumbledore stood further back watching the students leave.

“You know what that looked like to me,” asked Daken, “With the hole and this room?

“Yes,” answered Dumbledore, “Like a Beacon in the Void.”

Next Chapter

Bite of the Badger

10. Bite of the Badger

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I will be using tarot cards. Please realize I know next to nothing about tarot cards. All I know is they have pictures and indicate different things. So if you know I’m wrong I concede to that and ask that I receive the benefit of ignorance.

Revised 7/17/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 10

Bite of the Badger

“Go to the Hospital wing Mr. Fletchley, have the nurse look at that, “said McGonagall to Justin.

Justin was holding his shoulder and not moving the arm, injured in the chaotic moments of the void spell.

“Go with him Ms. Lanea,” continued the Professor.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood with Daken talking, now that the Great Hall was empty of studentermione s. The Professors were about in small groups of students consoling frightened new years and checking for injuries. The rumor was that someone was playing a joke and it gone terribly wrong. Many students in the initial moments thanked Harry for freeing them and as usual the newer ones had taken a moment to see the scar of the young hero but Harry seemed to not mind it for the moment.

“Harry, “began Ron excitedly, “How did you do that?”

“That was strong magic Harry,” said Daken with obvious suspicion,” I’ve never seen anyone blast through doors sealed with the void spell before. I’d like to know where you’ve been hiding that kind of power.”

“I want to know how you knew we were in trouble,” asked Hermione?

Harry looked around at everyone’s faces wondering where to begin. Harry shrugged his shoulders and coughed before answering.

“Well, I was asleep in the dormitory and I woke up when the window banged open from the wind, “ answered Harry, pausing to cough a few times, “I was going to shut it and go back to sleep but I suddenly remembered the feast and.”

Harry started coughing more.

“So you came down and realized something was up,” finished Daken.

Ron and Hermione watched Daken’s brow raise in curiosity as he kept his brown eyes fixed on Harry.

“Harry, why are you…” began Hermione but she stopped as blood drops hit the floor.

Harry’s coughing intensified and blood fell from his mouth.

A moment later he fell forward, caught in the process by Ron, and passed out.

“Dumbledore,” screamed Hermione!

All was dark again as the maze came into blurry view.

Harry stood there again in the numbing cold, trying to decide whether to walk forward or go in the opposite direction.

“Damn, “whispered Harry,” Which way am I suppose to go?”

Why go anywhere.

”Who said that,” shouted Harry!

This was a new voice to him but oddly familiar as well. Icy hatred dripped from each word and loathing filled its voice.

I am no stranger to you… look at me when I speak to you.

Harry turned to see the glowing, fiery blood red eyes again. There was a new difference this time. The eyes did not float towards him but stayed in place and a figure was visible in the darkness to which the eyes remained with.

“What do you want? Why do you keep bringing me here, “demanded Harry?

The creature laughed suggesting superior knowledge.

I do not bring you here, that task you do to yourself… as for what I want you know that already.

“I don’t know you and I wouldn’t want to be here,” shouted Harry angrily.

The laugh came again.

Why is good always so ignorant?

You trapped yourself here as you shackled me a long time ago…

But not much longer, my shackles are breaking as your barriers fall. You’ve already felt what I can do at this point.

In time, the world will know the full force.

“I won’t let you escape whatever this is,” replied Harry.

The creature was silent for a moment.

I don’t want to escape… alone.

Let me join you… Together we will escape and be free what of binds us.

“Why should I,” whispered Harry.

Harry was getting scared; this thing was just too familiar with him.

Why?

With me all will be unleashed, your power and mine. I will help you to be free of all barriers and from you I get freedom.

I will guide you to gain all your… earthly desires.

Together we will make all even our enemies cower in loyalty or be obliterated in conquest

Wind breezed in around Harry from behind. It was warm and encircled him. He could feel it gently pull him away from the creature.

Protecting him still are we? You should know he wants this as much as I do.

He cannot be guided away from me

The wind encircled faster and its pulling force intensified.

Harry felt the world starting to change but before one last thing was said.

With us together you can have… her… in many ways.

Harry sat up in his bed, a freezing cold chill down his spine as the breeze blew in on him from the window.

Harry looked to see that Ron sat by him, concern strong on his face and questions clear in his eyes.

A few more turns of his head showed Harry that he was in his four posted bed in the boys’ dormitory of Gryffindor tower.

“What time is it, “spoke Harry.

“Almost lunch,”stated Ron.

Harry fell back onto his pillow as the realization of where and when he was set into his mind.

“I’ve missed morning classes,” responded Harry, “Great.”

“Everyone did… Dumbledore delayed everything until tomorrow while the Hall is repaired and the Ministry does their investigating,” stated Ron.

Ron’s voice was platonic and his expression never changed. This was something Ron didn’t do, which was being completely serious and it worried Harry.

“What’s up with you,” asked Harry.

Ron stared at him a moment before answering, “You were hissing again.”

“I was speaking Parseltongue?”

“Almost all night, the others got too freaked out and slept in the Common room, “answered Ron, “Hermione’s putting the librarian through hell right now.”

“Sounds like what she’d do.”

Ron hadn’t moved but narrowed eyes. His expression was still serious and seemed to be waiting for something.

“What now?”

“Are you going to tell me what you’re hissing about,” answered Ron, “What you’re dreaming?”

Harry lay silent, not sure whether to answer and not even sure of what the answer would be. Overall Harry realized he didn’t want to tell Ron, it was all just too much right now.

“I don’t really know,” lied Harry.

Ron shifted an eyebrow before shaking his head with a disapproving grin.

“It must really be bad if you won’t even tell me, “responded Ron.

“Look Ron, I don’t know how to…” began Harry as he sat up.

He wanted to tell Ron something but that thing was right about his feelings. Harry did want something from it. He couldn’t tell Ron, not anyone, not yet.

Ron seemed to sense that Harry was debating the issue and decided to try a new tact.

“Harry there’s something I think you should know,” spoke Ron quietly, “About Hermione…”

Ron didn’t get to finish as the door to the room slammed opened and Hermione bounded in.

“Harry you’re awake? Are you feeling better? Do you remember what happened, “rattled Hermione happily?

Hermione leaned exceptionally close to Harry in her interrogation of his health. She was only inches from him, a fact not unnoticed by Harry while Ron gave a quick snicker to the scene. Hermione’s was wearing some kind of perfume, which flirted with Harry’s sense of smell and made his whole body suddenly relaxed.

Hermione quickly took a breath in her questioning, Ron in the meantime had acquired another chair with his wand and Hermione sat down very close to Harry.

They continued to talk openly as always before but Ron kept the talk of Harry’s dreams and the hissing quiet by changing the subject. Harry began to suspect that Ron knew more than he was letting on. Hermione didn’t seem to let on her knowledge of anything; she only kept watching Harry’s every move and noting his every word. Every now and then Harry could see that she was saying one thing but her face showed she thought differently.

-They’re waiting for me to say something, -thought Harry, -This conversation is just filler. -

After a few minutes of talking, Hermione took a hold of Harry’s hand and although he felt thrilled by every sensation in the touch, Harry pulled away at a single thought of his nightmare surfaced.

Every earthly desire…yours…

Harry got up off the bed on the opposite side of his friends. Harry kept his look towards the floor as he walked by.

“I think we should see about lunch, I haven’t eaten since yesterday,” announced Harry trying to sound casual but a hint of panic in his voice that was noticed.

Ron could see a hurt look cross Hermione’s face and he moved to stand while waiting for her.

“You know I’m sure he didn’t…” began Ron but Hermione stood up and walked out of the room.

Ron walked towards the door with one last look towards the back of the room.

“I’m sure someone has a theory or two about what’s going on in his head,” said Ron to the room before leaving.

“I do have a theory but not about his head… it’s his heart,” answered Daken as he stepped from the shadow beside the closet, “You’re getting better Ron.”

The rest of the day continued much as expected. Students went about with conversation and playing of games. Many congratulated Harry on saving them. New students spoke among themselves as Harry walked by, some trying to see his scar. Girls acted the same as many did in Diagon Alley, giggling amongst them-selves and occasionally making an introduction. Hermione was shooting daggered glances at each of them.

Harry barely reacted to anyone or anything. He kept his attention only to Ron and Hermione, everyone else hardly got much noticed.

Ron did notice one thing strange.

“I know this is going to sound odd but where is Malfoy,” said Ron, “I haven’t seen him since… I don’t know when?”

Harry thought a second and answered, “You’re right that’s odd?”

“Maybe he transferred,” added Hermione?

They went to dinner at the repaired Great Hall; thankfully no incidents occurred before going to bed.

Upon leaving the hall Harry ran into Justin.

“How’s the shoulder,” inquired Harry.

Justin just glared at Harry and stalked off not even answering.

“That was weird,” remarked Ron.

Back in the common room, they sat in their circle quietly. Their topics of idle conversation exhausted.

They were sipping their pumpkin juice. Hermione had used magic along with spices to heat the pumpkin juice and make it a hot drink. Harry really liked it, especially since it made him sleepy and light headed.

Hermione was watching Harry as he drank the altered pumpkin juice. Harry wasn’t able to realize this as his head bobbed in a drowsy state.

“We better help him to bed,” whispered Hermione.

“I can get him,” Ron whispered, “Who knew that warm pumpkin juice would put him out.”

Hermione remained where she was continuing to sip her juice as she watched Ron hoist Harry to his feet and practically drag him upstairs to the dorm.

-No dreams tonight Harry, -remarked Hermione to herself as she set her mug down and went to her own dormitory.

As she walked up the stairs to the girls’ fifth year level she stopped near the boys’ door. She remembered how Harry had been looking at her before and what Mrs. Weasley said.

“Do you feel the same about me,” whispered Hermione to the door as if it were he.

The next morning Hermione found that Ron and Harry were in the common room waiting for her. Together they went to breakfast to get their schedules for classes.

Professor McGonagall walked about passing out schedules to the Gryffindor students. Hermione was pleased with hers but Ron and Harry groaned at theirs. Apparently they had double Divination all morning and double Transfiguration in the afternoon.

“We spend the morning with the craziest teacher then the afternoon with the strictest one of them all, “whined Ron.

“Could be worse,” remarked Harry,” We could have Divination and then double Potions.”

Breakfast ended and the group split to go to their classes. Harry and Ron climbed their way to the high tower of Trelawney’s class.

Ron and Harry decided to do a different tact and sit as far from the teacher this year as possible. Unfortunately others seemed to have the same idea, as did the Ravenclaws that shared this morning’s schedule with the Gryffindors. The two boys ended up in the middle of the class.

“Good morning my students,” greeted Professor Trelawney,” We will begin with Tarot card readings this term. So get them out, you’ll find the card packs inside your books among other things.”

Harry pulled his wrapped Divination book from his bag and tore it open. The book was black with no title on the cover or spine. He opened the cover to find a pack of cards, a small bronze bowl, a small sealed green package and tiny needle.

Trelawney began to explain the tuning of the tarot cards.

“Now to do Tarot card reading properly the cards must be in tune with the person that they will be reading. To start with set the bronze bowl before you…”

The students set the bowl in front of themselves.

“Good now take the needle and prick your finger, do not fear the needles are charmed to remain sterile always. Then let at least three drops of your blood fall into the bowl…”

Some people did this quickly, others took their time, and some were on the point of tears. Ron was extremely nervous and began fidgeting with something inside of his robes. Harry had little time to notice as Trelawney was watching intently. She obviously was anxious to see what would happen for him in this Tarot reading.

Harry pricked his finger and let a few drops fall into the bowl.

Eventually all the students had finished that part.

“Excellent now open the sealed package but be careful you don’t want to waste the powder inside… Mr. Longbottom let the young lady next to you open it.”

A blonde Ravenclaw girl next to Neville opened the package for him. Harry realized he’d seen the girl before but he couldn’t remember and since Ron was staring at her as well, Ron must be thinking the same thing.

“We are nearly done preparing. Take a pinch of the powder, do not worry Longbottom there is no too much or too little, and sprinkle it on the blood in your bowls.”

Harry watch as the green powder fell from his fingers sizzled as it touched the blood. A puff of smoke left the bowl a moment later leaving a white powder in place of the blood. Ron had an odd fire red color for his.

Trelawney glided her way to Harry’s table and saw the powder. She said nothing but an odd curiosity crossed her face.

“Now to finish, spread your cards into a pile and use the bowl to sprinkle the mixture onto the cards. Now you must be very careful to get only your powder on your cards.”

As the students did this, the cards glowed whatever color the powder had been for a moment.

“The last is to gather them and shuffle them into a stack.”

Everyone took a minute to gather their cards as Trelawney instructed them.

“The next step is what is most important of all, the pattern of arrangement.”

Trelawney produced her wand from the end of her long sleeve and conjured a cushion at Harry’s table. She sat herself down and looked eagerly at Harry’s cards.

“Turn to page five in your books, it will show you by the numbers how to arrange your cards. Except you Mr. Potter, we shall do your first reading together.”

“Lay four cards in front of you; remember all cards must be face down to begin with. Arrange these four cards to be in corners of a square. Adjust them as we lay more cards down later.”

Shuffling was heard as students lay cards down and Trelawney watched Harry do his.

“Now between these spaces of the corner cards, place three more. The order does not matter. In the end you will have sixteen cards creating a square, remember to keep your original four cards as the corners.”

Minutes went by as more cards were placed down and students murmured amongst themselves while checking their books.

“To finish the placement of cards, draw one last card and place it in the center of the square.”

As Harry placed his last card, Trelawney watched his every movement. She reminded him strongly of students he had seen in Honeydukes eyeing the candy as the proprietor moved it.

-What is so important about my cards, –thought Harry?

“Turn over the top right corner card. The corner cards represent your inner circle; these cards represent those closest to your life. This first card represents who protects you.”

Harry turned over the said card; it was labeled Fire and had a moving image a fire crackling. Apparently Tarot cards moved like pictures did in the magic world.

“The Element of Fire card, impressive, someone powerful and loyal protects you. Fire is fiercely loyal and lethal when unleashed. The person represented by this element in your life is someone opposing forces will have serious difficulty contending with as it will be someone unyielding… now turn over the top left corner card.”

Harry continued as instructed turning his next card, which was labeled Earth, and presented a picture of blooming flowers that encircled a faceless figure.

“This card represents that person who embraces you… Harry you have the element card Earth… odd Earth and Fire are rarely seen in the same circles as they oppose each other… the Earth is a loving force and embraces the heart. This is usually someone with whom you have a very personal relationship with or want to anyways. This is also a powerful person as they are one who can keep your heart safe from opposing forces. Now turn over the bottom right card.”

Hearing Trelawney’s explanation of the Earth card made Harry very nervous. Especially since Lavender and Patti were whispering intently to each other. They knew something or were planning it anyways and Harry had a bad feeling.

He continued now to have a card labeled Wind and a picture of tall grass being blown to the ground by wind.

Trelawney now looked nervous.

“You may be more of a Seer than you think Potter… this card position represents guidance or the person who guides you… the element of Wind is a rare card to see in the guidance position as it means an unseen force is guiding you even warning you… Wind is not seen but felt in this world and it is considered to be the form of communication for forces outside of our reality that have a need to talk to us. If it is a person, than it is someone very sensitive… Treat this knowledge wisely… Now the bottom left card everyone.”

Harry was getting annoyed by Trelawney now she was making things sound like he was center of things again.

Harry’s final corner card was labeled Water and showed a picture of waves on an endless ocean.

Trelawney did not look pleased but rather worried.

“The last corner card represents Faith, that person with strong faith in you… You have drawn the element Water. I have never seen any one with four elements in their corner circle…there is strong power around you Harry very strong with four elements. It’s almost as if they are putting you check? In any case the Water represents illusion, shows us one thing while hiding something else. In the Faith position means someone near you is opposing you while secretly believing in you. This is very curious. Harry, turn over the top three cards between the corner cards.”

Harry continued on with her dreary lesson. The first of the top three cards showed a dragon reared on its hind legs, roaring into the sky. The second was an exact image of the shield and broken sword like the medal he received from the ministry. The third card was a simple lock.

“All of you will have different cards, so I want you all just to pay attention to Potter and me. This way you will have a memory of this to go with your book’s example. Your final readings will be a part of your homework.”

Trelawney eyed Harry’s cards and a crowd grew around their table to watch the reading.

“This first set describes you…The Dragon is a creature of power and is considered the most powerful beast known which indicates you also have great power. The Medal of Vigilance indicates you are a champion, more specifically a Defender. The Lock means mystery, there is much we and most likely you do not know of yourself… Now the three cards on the right side.”

Harry turned them over. The first revealed was a card with the image of a rope with a figure on either end pulling. The second had five cloaked figures with swords held ready. The third was two swords striking each other over and over.

“This set represents what is happening in the present for you… You are being challenged, as told by the first card the Challenge card… Five will stand against you in this challenge as represented by the second card known as the Opposition… The challenges will be combat as told by the third card, Combat… Now the cards on the left if you please.”

Though Harry did not please to he did turn over the next set of cards. The first was a card with a Tombstone. The second was a pretty girl smelling a handful of flowers while sitting on a stone. The third was a black outline of a blank figure on a white background.

“This set represents what you fear or haunts you… Something of the past you fear indicated by the Grave card… The second one is confusing for it means you are afraid of something beautiful as that is the Beauty card… The last card is known as the Self card, and it seems to be saying that you are afraid of something within you.”

Trelawney looked hard at Harry through her thick glasses as if she were trying to understand something.

Harry felt his breathing had gone rapid and sweat was building on him. The room seemed to going cold but he felt as if he was on fire. Others were noticing that the room was changing as well. Girls were rubbing their arms with their hands and the boys were rubbing their hands together. Harry saw from the corner of his eye as misty breath exhaled from Ron. Normally it was hot in the Divination room even in winter but something was draining the heat away.

“The last three Potter.”

Trelawney said this more as a command rather than politely. She wouldn’t take her bat eyes off Harry.

The last three were disturbing even before Harry was told what they were. The first card was an image of a spiked pit. The second showed a small village on fire. The third card was completely blank void of any image.

Trelawney took a few deep breaths before speaking.

“This last set represents what others should know about you… You are dangerous; the first card is called Danger… The second is called Destruction and apparently you cause destruction… The third is called Unknown and it means simply that, you are something unknown to us… Do not turn over the last card yet.”

Harry saw it then, Trelawney was shaking slightly. She was scared of something and not saying why but it was something in Harry’s cards telling her this.

“The center card is your representation, what animal, force or symbol best represents you… Do not be frightened by a nasty looking card such as the Demon card… Every card means different things based on where they are positioned… Now Harry your last card please.”

Harry turned over the last card and at first it was all black.

Then it flashed as lightning cut cross the image followed by more lightning strikes.

Harry jumped back in fright and the sound of shattering glass filled the room. Teacups, plates and pots were exploding around the walls of the room with great force. Crystal balls in the corner cracked and everyone’s glasses, except Harry, broke that instant.

“The Lightning Element,” yelled Trelawney standing up quickly,” Five elements, the four are keeping Lightning in balance!”

Harry finally spoke, “What is it suppose to mean professor?”

She didn’t answer the question. Instead she drew her wand and with a flick all of Harry’s things jumped into his bag.

“Get out of my class,” screeched Trelawney,” Don’t ever come back.”

Harry was about to respond but she moved her wand to center at his chest.

No one in the room moved or spoke and Harry reached for his bag slowly. Trelawney followed his every move with her wand. He could see fear evident in her eyes. Ron was shoveling his things into his bag as he made to follow Harry.

“You are not excuse Mr. Weasley and I will take points from Gryffindor if you leave with him,” threatened Trelawney.

Ron stood by Harry at the trap door. He looked at her with a scowl and respond coldly, “You’ll notice how much that doesn’t bother me.”

With that they left…

They went to the Great Hall, Harry walked quickly not saying a word and Ron followed behind looking at a Tarot card

It was Ron’s center representation card, the image burning brightly on it.

When lunch came the news of Trelawney’s actions spread faster than any rumor known. The professors were not at their places for lunch, the prefects would only say an emergency meeting had been called. Ron found it odd that Hermione knew what the prefects were saying as it was not being announced.

Harry wasn’t talking to anyone. Anyone who tried to ask Harry anything received an angry glare from him. Hermione and Ron couldn’t even get a word from him. Harry just sat there drinking glass after glass of pumpkin juice. He didn’t really eat anything. Harry took a bite here and there just swallowing. He eyes were narrowed and Hermione could see his eyes but his anger radiated off of him. Ron was the only one who sat next to him while Hermione sat across from them.

“Hey Harry would you mind signing this,” asked Colin Creevey.

Hermione saw he held one the chocolate frog collector cards.

Ron saw it too and said an explicative under his breath.

Harry started to turn around but Ron stopped him.

“Maybe you should ask later Colin, if he signs your card others would probably want it too. With lunch almost over we don’t want to cause a scene right now for the Slytherins to make fun of,” Ron chuckled nervously.

Luckily Colin believed Ron and agreed. Colin left with perfect timing as Hermione saw that the fork Harry was holding was bent in half.

Before anything was said, the bell rang and Harry hopped from his seat followed by his friends.

Throughout Transfiguration, Harry sat in the back with Ron and did absolutely nothing. Oddly Professor McGonagall didn’t seem to notice. As she walked around the class watching people perform the day’s lesson. She said nothing of Harry not participating but commented on Ron’s performance, which was surprisingly good.

Harry sat where was idly tapping his quill on blank parchment. There was fury in his look and his jaw moved as if he was talking to himself. Hermione tried to steal looks behind her to Harry but couldn’t see him well. Ron was on edge and jumped every time McGonagall commented on his work. She too was watching Harry but saying nothing.

It was Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in this class together. Justin was sitting kiddy corner to Ron and when McGonagall wasn’t looking he would glare at Ron and Harry. Ron saw this and wondered why he was doing that.

The bell rang for the end of classes and Harry stood up leaving. He had not removed his books, so there was little to delay his departure. Ron and Hermione hurried to catch up to him.

Just as they were about to speak, Harry rounded on them.

“No… I want to be alone,” growled Harry as he turned and headed down another hall towards the kitchens.

Ron and Hermione stood in shock.

“For such a great wizard, he’s quite a brat,” snapped Justin as walked quickly by.

Ron didn’t like that.

“What are you implying,” snarled Ron angrily?

“You want to know then come to the library with me, I have to get some books and I’ll tell you what I mean,” quietly spoke Justin, glaring at Ron.

“Fine,” answered Ron.

Hermione followed them to the library, knowing Ron was going to cause trouble and she had a duty to stop it as McGonagall had entrusted her to do.

However she couldn’t shake the bad feeling that she had in her stomach.

Dobby could take care of Harry.

Ron and Hermione followed Justin into the library where he promptly headed for the center table of the study area.

Justin looked around with a happy smile as Ron set his bag down followed by Hermione.

Before Ron could say anything Justin spoke.

“You know everyone thinks the Hufflepuffs are pushovers. We’re represented by something meek, the badger, and the other houses think we’re nothing to think of… I rather prove that differently, I think the meek are something to contend with.”

Hermione’s bad feeling intensified and Ron looked confused.

“What are you babbling about Justin? What does this have to do with you and Harry,” Ron asked impatiently?

In a quick move, Justin spun around with his wand drawn. He whispered something and their wands flew from their robes to Justin’s free hand.

“I think its time Harry came to understand… the Bite of the Badger…”

Next Chapter

The First

11. The First Challange

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note:

I will be re-publishing/re-posting my chapters again over the holiday season this month because I notice there were grammatical and spelling errors that I missed. Apparently spell check doesn’t check for my own mistakes. I wanted readers to know this because I know a few of you have me on alerts and I did not want there to be confusion as you receive alerts with no new chapters.

By the way if you have questions you just HAVE to ask (I will not give away story bits) or would like to give me a more in depth review (of which I encourage) you can send/e-mail them to itmonster@hotmail.com . It’s the e-mail I use for my fan fictions, so it’s cool.

Revised 5/16/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 11

The First Challenge

Harry walked briskly towards the kitchens, wanting pumpkin juice and the kitchen was closer than the dormitory.

As Harry approached the painting of the fruit, it opened before he did anything.

-I didn’t tickle it yet, -remarked Harry to himself.

But the painting swung open and revealed the path to the kitchens. Harry headed in still pondering the about the painting and its pre-emptive movement. He found Dobby stirring a huge bowl of cookie dough while another bowl floated above the elf dumping chunks of chocolate into the bowl.

-Cookies, haven’t had those in a while… Maybe Ron and I can sneak some into the dormitory later, -thought Harry mischievously to himself, -Hermione wouldn’t approve. -

Suddenly Harry had the image of Hermione very close to him trying to take a cookie away from him and he felt his temperature go up as his thoughts trailed on that image.

Not wanting to disturb Dobby, he was about to ask another elf but discovered that to be impossible as Dobby clamped around his middle suddenly while squealing happily.

Harry waited for the elf to detach itself and saw the spoon stirring on its own in the cookie dough. Apparently elves are capable of doing many things at once as Harry could see.

“Potter sir is visiting Dobby even after first day of classes,” squealed the Elf,” Dobby is lucky to be elf for Harry Potter!”

“Thanks Dobby, I’m glad to see you too. I don’t mean to bother but…?”

The elf let go of Harry and sprinted off.

-I didn’t even tell him yet, -thought Harry to himself.

Expecting Dobby to bring in half the kitchen’s contents but instead found, to his surprise, Dobby had brought a big jug of pumpkin juice to him. Odd considering that’s exactly what he wanted.

“Dobby how did you know,” asked Harry with a strong sense of confusion?

The elf shrugged his shoulders and replied, “Dobby just knows.”

It was perfect, nice and cold, most likely a fresh batch.

However, Dobby’s guess to Harry’s thirst still pondered in his mind as his taste buds were immersed in flavor.

Harry finished the entire jug, the elf stood by with a pleased grin but the other elves were staring at Harry in amazement. When he looked back at them, the elves instantly busied themselves again and ever so slightly began to leave the room. Harry shrugged his shoulders thinking it was an elf thing but he still wanted to ask Dobby about what he was pondering.

Harry placed his mug on the counter and asked quietly, “Dobby, how did you know what I was going to ask for?”

Dobby swiftly returned back to his cookie mix and didn’t answer.

“Dobby,” Harry repeated?

The elf continued stirring but at a slightly fast pace.

Harry had another question that came to mine as well.

“Dobby, how did you know I was hurt and at the Weasleys”

The elf continued to ignore Harry and something in that behavior gave Harry the impression the elf knew more than it was telling.

“Dobby, please tell me,” pleaded Harry.

The elf stopped stirring and wiped its hands on an apron, turning around.

Dobby had a strange serious look that Harry had never seen. Harry remember seeing the creature sad, happy, even scared but never so serious.

“Dobby knows things about Potter sir… Dobby knows that sir is not like other wizards… Dobby can sense things about Potter… Dobby knew Potter was hurt… Dobby can find sir anywhere,” stumbled out the Elf cautiously.

-Different, -thought Harry, -Different how?-

“What things can you sense about me,” whispered Harry?

“Dobby is not telling,” said the Elf quite quickly.

Dobby hoped off his stool at the counter and headed for an opening in the back of the kitchen.

“Why?”

The elf didn’t answer but rather moved faster.

“What’s wrong with telling me?”

The elf’s pace now quicken to a near sprint.

“Dobby,” shouted Harry!

The elf stopped at the opening with its back to Harry. It wouldn’t turn to look back but did answer this time.

“Dobby not want to lose Harry.”

The elf vanished into the opening and Harry stood in amazement.

“Lose me,” whispered Harry aloud, “Lose me how?”

The jug had refilled itself with more pumpkin juice and Harry poured another mug full. He took the mug to the window, replaying the elf’s weird actions in his mind and more.

Harry stood at the window, opening it and looked out at the grassy plains around Hogwarts.

“Things are getting weird… Trelawney kicks me out of her class… McGonagall doesn’t say a word to me… Some other lunatic is after me… Ron knows I’m lying to him… And Hermione is…” spoke Harry openly to himself as the breeze from outside blew in on him.

In an instant his thoughts change.

-Ron, - thought Harry suddenly.

Harry let go of the mug and it fell out the window.

“Hermione,” whispered Harry in a panic!

Harry’s bag lay unnoticed, the window remained as it was and the painting quickly swished open as Harry ran out of the kitchen as fast as his legs would let him.

Students were milling about the halls, talking openly or discussing lessons as Harry ran by. Some said mid spoken greetings, others shouted while Harry tore through ignoring them all. Professors announced the losing of points when Harry disobeyed their calls to slow down. Harry did respond to one person.

“Neville, go to Dumbledore, “shouted Harry running by, “Tell him to go to the library!”

Neville ran off in another direction, not saying another word or even uttering a goodbye to the companions he was with.

Moments later, Harry saw it, the double doors to the library and slammed side first into them, bursting into the room.

Gasping for breath, a stitch aching in his side and sweat abundant, Harry was greeted by an unbelievable site.

“Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise, “sneered a menacing voice, “Harry Potter… The Great Hero of our time.”

Harry heard this while still trying to accept who was saying it as he stared at Justin Flinch-Fletchley.

A previous fight had evidently happened as Harry could see tables broken and pieces thrown about. Pages of damaged books and toppled book shelves were everywhere among the students’ personal things while a pile of wands lay at Justin’s feet. All the students were gathered at the far wall. The librarian lay slumped over her desk having been already dealt with apparently. A crumpled mass of robes bearing the Ravenclaw symbol lay behind him. Deep brown hair could be seen at one end giving Harry the strong impression it was a Ravenclaw girl.

“Justin, what are you doing,” gasped Harry?

Justin held his wand in the direction of his apparent hostages and grinned childishly at Harry.

“You know I wasn’t expecting you but I suddenly have a wonderful idea… you get to choose,” answered Justin eerily cheery attitude.

Harry stared in disbelief; Justin had a sadistic expression with his wide eyed look and his wand waving towards the far wall of students ready to strike in an instant.

“Choose what, “asked Harry cautiously?

Justin displayed a happy and humored grin, answering haphazardly, “You get to choose who dies.”

Harry heard the words and still couldn’t seem to believe he had heard right. Justin was telling him to choose someone to die. Justin the Hufflepuff? Justin who was always nice and friendly was asking to know whom to kill?

“Are you crazy? This is not something to joke about, “shouted Harry!

That said, Harry felt that he already knew this was no joke but told himself it just can’t be what it seems.

Justin sadistic looking grin faded and a spell shot from his wand. A statue above the students exploded, sending shards down. Some people cried out as sharp pieces cut into them. A dark scowl formed on Justin’s wide-eyed face while his posture became upright and rigid.

“Do… I… look… like… I’m,” growled Justin through clenched teeth, “Joking?”

Everything about Justin worried Harry. He wasn’t sure what to do but try to buy time and wait.

-Where the hell is Dumbledore, -frantically thought Harry, -Come on Neville. -

“Why are you doing this Justin,” asked Harry?

He knew it sounded lame but it was all he could think of at the moment. Fighting was out of the question; someone was bound to be seriously hurt. Especially since Justin had the advantage of having a wand ready while Harry’s was still in his robe pocket.

Justin’s appearance never changed but he answered.

“Why,” he began,” Ever hear of an eye for an eye… a tooth for a tooth…or a dime for a dime?”

Harry stared at him dumbfounded. He an idea as to what Justin was talking about but it couldn’t be that.

“No,” continued Justin,” How about a life for a life… or maybe… a friend for a friend?”

“Justin I don’t…” started Harry.

“Cedric was better than you,” explained Justin in a cold placid voice,” Worked hard… followed the rules… helped anyone who needed it… always good to everyone… never hurt anyone… never deserved any harm… until he met you.”

Harry’s stomach gave a painful lurch as moments from the tournament flashed through his mind.

Harry shifted his weight slightly, nervously trying to think of something that could stop this.

Looking slightly towards the floor and not even fully believing himself he responded, “Justin I didn’t kill him.”

Justin snorted in disbelief.

“Victor and Fleur were easily beaten, but Cedric was a Hogwarts student and you knew damn well you didn’t stand a chance against him… So you make nice with him about the dragons then concoct some lame story about Death eaters to escape your crime,” whispered Justin dangerously,” You never even considered how important he may be to someone else did you? Just kill him and claim victory.”

Now it hit him. Harry could feel his frustrations, his fears; everything that was causing him worry was beginning to fade replaced by growing anger. It was bad enough how he felt already about not being able to save Cedric but to be claimed as the actual killer was going too far. Harry clasped his sweaty hands into fists and clenched his teeth. The cold fear surging in his body was enveloped by a tingling sensation of something Harry couldn’t name yet but it felt strong.

“Since you seem to think yourself fit to decide who can live and die, then decide who dies now,” demanded Justin!

“Justin,” answered Harry quietly, “I never did that then and I won’t now.”

The torches in the room began to fade. The sunlight in room from the high windows of the library started to dim. Hermione could feel her hair beginning to frizz.

“Decide now or I’ll do it for you,” threatened Justin.

“Don’t push me Justin,” Harry threatened in return.

Ron could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Hermione watched from the corner of her eye as Harry stood in the small corridor between the entrance of the library and the castle hallway. There the shadows were growing as sunlight dimmed faster. Making it more and more difficult to see Harry as shadows cloaked him.

Justin seemed oblivious to the changing environment instead turned his full attention to the students he held hostage.

“Fine I’ll do it then,” sneered Justin angrily, “And I’ll do it muggle style.”

Justin began to wave his wand back and forth reciting.

“Eenie...”

“Justin,” whispered Harry dangerously.

The library was now cold and the temperature was dropping further.

Ron and Hermione glanced in Harry’s direction but they could barely make him out in the shadows of the dimmed light.

“Meenie…” continued Justin ignoring Harry.

Ron saw a small glow in the shadow, a strange color too dim to make out clearly.

“Don’t do this…” came a deep growling voice from the darken entrance.

“Minee…” still continued Justin unshaken.

The room had grown so cold there was ice on the walls and each breath a student exhaled was misty.

Justin’s wand stopped waving as he pointed it at a target. A small green glow filled the tip of the wand. Only one spell had that shade of green.

“Moe…” said Justin in a wicked tone.

The room went silent after a single gasp from the crowd was heard as the wand aim for that one.

“Avada Keda…” spoke Justin but his words stopped.

The glowing green light on his wand had faded before he could finish.

Justin turned his head to look at Harry, Hermione and Ron, among others, were about to follow but never got the chance.

An explosive blast sounded and something surged through the room, Justin screamed but his voice was lost as his body was flung from place through the library. He smashed through bookshelves and the dividing lattice of the restricted section, continuing to very back. As Justin body flailed through the library like a ragged doll, the table pieces and other debris were blown towards him. A sickening thud indicated that Justin had slammed into the final back wall of the library while the blown debris piled on him.

The freezing cold dissipated instantly and sunlight brightened the room again.

Harry stood in the entrance corridor, breathing deeply.

Ron watched, unscathed, as blood trailed from Harry’s nose.

Hermione was getting her wits back as other students got back to their feet after being knocked down by the wake of the unknown force.

Ron helped Hermione to her feet; she wanted to say something but the ashen look on his face told her to look at Harry.

Harry stood in place, fist clamped tightly at his sides and shaking slightly. Harry’s hair was plastered to his head, soaked in sweat and as his eyes stared blankly at the floor, wide in shock.

“Ron, get some others and get to Justin, “ordered Hermione as she ran to Harry

She got within a few feet of him but slowed down to a tiptoed like walk.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered cautiously?

She was almost face to face with him when the library door sprang open.

Dumbledore and Daken rushed in with other Professors.

“Mr. Potter what has happened,” asked Dumbledore?

“I’d say a battle from the look of things,” remarked Daken.

Some of the professors started checking the students while others moved to check on Justin.

“Potter,” repeated Dumbledore quietly?

Hermione inched closer to Harry hoping to get to him before anything else could happen. She had a feeling that Harry would be fine, if she could get near enough to him.

However her attempt came in vain because Harry rounded on Dumbledore.

“You came too late, that’s what happened,” shouted Harry!

Harry stormed past the Headmaster, Hermione tried to follow but McGonagall stopped her.

“Ms. Granger you are needed here by your fellow house members since you are a Prefect.”

Hermione didn’t know what to do, McGonagall was right she was still a prefect and had a duty to perform but she couldn’t shake the feeling Harry shouldn’t be left alone now. She hadn’t had a chance to give the Professor her final decision on being a prefect.

Her dilemma was answered as a red haired boy ran by.

Harry was walking fast down the hall, many thoughts were swirling in his mind and he wanted some fresh air.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the hall as Ron ran to catch up to him.

Ron stopped grabbing Harry’s shoulder with a strong grip halting him as well. Harry noticed Ron was breathing normally even after the run from the library but didn’t dwell on it.

“Harry, Justin is okay,” comforted Ron as Harry kept his face turned away, “Madam Pomfrey said just a few broken bones and some nasty bruising but he’s fine.”

Harry pulled away and Ron gave without stopping but followed.

“I need some air,” said Harry,” I’m going to get my broom from the locker room and fly a bit.”

“Sounds like an idea I’d like too, “agreed Ron, “I’ll grab a broom from storage and we’ll do some laps at the stadium.”

Harry didn’t say a word but Ron could see a small smile on his face.

The boys approached one of the doors leading outside the castle.

Harry remarked, “If I’m right then we won’t need to get our brooms.”

Ron was about to ask what he meant by that except received his answer in the form of Dobby. They had just walked outside and there at the base of the stairs was Dobby holding Harry’s Firebolt and another broom, presumably for Ron. Harry gave a quick thank you to Dobby and took off on the broom.

“Dobby how did you know we wanted to go flying,” asked Ron in shock?

The elf shifted nervously and answered, “Dobby just knows.”

Ron shook his head deciding it best to think on it later. He mounted the broom and prepared to follow Harry when Dobby tugged at his robes. He looked back at the elf in question.

“Will Weazey always be Potter’s friend,” it asked?

Ron furrowed his brow thinking, -Dobby is acting weird? -

“Of course, I don’t see why I wouldn’t?”

The elf slowly reached into a pocket in Ron’s robes and pulled out a Tarot card. The card Ron had been carrying in that pocket since that morning with the Divination incident. The card that best represented himself, as Ron had turned it over when Trelawney order Harry out of her class.

It was a card bearing an image that burned brightly; an image of the element of Fire.

“Lightening and Fire not always good to each other,” answered Dobby as he gazed at the card before putting it back in the boy’s pocket.

Ron was about to ask the elf another question but Dobby spoke first.

“Dobby cannot tell how he knows things… It is too dangerous,” said Dobby before vanishing.

“Oh things are definitely getting interesting,” whispered Ron as he took off into the air towards the Quidditch stadium.

Neither boy spoke only continued zooming around the court as fast as they could. Though he couldn’t keep up, Ron could tell that Harry was feeling better as they swerved and zoomed all over.

“It is confirmed, Justin has no memory of doing anything in the library or anything for the last two days it seems,” announced McGonagall as she entered Dumbledore’s office.

Daken sat in an armchair in the corner.

“What did the examination from the nurses conclude,” asked Dumbledore at his desk?

There is a severe burn on the boy’s chest but it can be cleared up without scarring.

“A fireball,”casually asked Daken with a hint of disbelief?

“No,” answered Dumbledore quietly, “I know of only one thing that can deliver a blow that fast… virtually unseen… leave burns… and be followed by a powerful wake.”

“What could that be,” interrupted McGonagall hastily?

“Lightening “finished Snape behind her.

“Only an elemental can use magic like that without the need of a wand,” whispered Daken, “The boy is lucky Potter didn’t vaporize him.”

“No luck was involved,” corrected Dumbledore,” There was rage in that magic but the desire for death was held back.”

“I have a question, “spoke Daken,” How did Harry get to the library so fast?”

“Why do you ask something so pointless,” sneered Snape?

Daken explain,” Neville came here and told Dumbledore that Harry needed him in the library… there are four sets of stairs from that spot Neville was at to the library and no other route… there is only one set of stairs between that same spot and this office… Neville, I’m sorry, is an oaf but he isn’t slow either… other students saw Harry running in the halls but none saw him on the stairs… I ran that route my self twice and with my differences it still took almost ten minutes… Harry was there in less than half that time… without using the stairs.”

“You’re suggesting apparition,” spoke Snape.

“That is not possible, Hogwarts is charmed against it,” inputted McGonagall.

Dumbledore gave a slight chuckle and corrected, “Apparition to and from Hogwarts is what the charm prevents but not apparition within the borders of Hogwarts?”

“It is still a complicated spell even for someone like Potter, even Ms. Granger would have trouble with trying it now,” pointed out McGonagall.

“Yes but apparition is about using magic to will your self to another place,” said Daken,” And getting to the place where his friends were endangered is something he would most definitely will himself strongly to do.”

“There is a way to test him headmaster. To see if young Potter is truly able to do what we are speculating,” suggested Snape with a bit of a smile.

Dumbledore looked hard at him over his spectacles, “It is too dangerous to do here at Hogwarts. Nor would I choose to do that to a student for any reason.”

Daken stood up quickly and Fawkes gave a quick unpleasant screech

“I’m really getting tired of that, “sneered Daken at Fawkes.

The bird just stared at Daken in response.

“The tarot cards said he would be challenged by five,” announced Daken,” I’d say this was… the First Challenge.”

Next Chapter

Quidditch is only a Game

12. Quidditch is only a Game

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note:

I want to say thank you very much for the wonderful and encouraging reviews.

I don’t know when the Quidditch season begins so if you think I’m incorrect on the timing, then you’re probably right.

I want to admit ahead of time that this is not my favorite chapter as I had a horrible time getting it to flow right but I decided I had better post it now or go crazy and never get it done.

If you have questions you just HAVE to ask or would like to give me a more in depth review (of which I encourage) you can send/e-mail them to itmonster@hotmail.com . It’s the e-mail I use for my fan fictions, so it’s cool.

Revised 6/20/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 12

Quidditch is only a Game

Ron and Harry were hovering high in the center of the field. They had spent the rest of the afternoon flying and now were just sitting there, enjoying the fresh air and looking over the scenery that is Hogwarts.

“Say Harry lets talk a bit,” spoke up Ron.

Harry glanced at his friend.

“What about,” replied Harry looking back at the scenery, finding the idea to be agreeable?

A grin grew on Ron’s face as his eyes twinkled with mischievous thought as he answered with “Let’s talk about girls… we’ve never really done that.“

Harry answered with some hesitation, “Okay.”

“They’re quite something else, aren’t they?” started Ron,” They way some of them act… very puzzling… or look… very distracting. ”

“They can make you feel strange too,” responded Harry blushing strongly.

Ron didn’t say anything but he knew of whom and what Harry spoke of.

They continued on for a while, mentioning changes they had notice of their female peers. Both Harry and Ron found it relaxing just to talk about an odd subject.

“Speaking of girls we know, here comes one now,” chuckled Ron.

Harry looked in the direction of Ron’s gaze to see Hermione walk on to the field. They slowly descended to the ground and joined her.

“It’s getting late,” said Hermione slowly,” The evening feast will be starting soon.”

Hermione looked worried and she had a nervous stance, behavior that was easily noticed. Harry thought that maybe the incident of library was the cause but Ron had a different thought. Ron could see that Hermione had made some changes since earlier in the day. She wore a new blouse and her hair was tied back. There was a slight shine to her lips suggesting a hint of a gloss. The gentle breeze pushed at her skirt which was well pressed and free of wrinkles.

“I’ll put these away and meet you in the Great Hall,” announced Ron as he snatched Harry’s Firebolt and headed into the locker rooms.

Harry may not realize certain things yet but Ron smiled to himself as he had perceived the hint intended towards Harry.

-For someone that bossy, you’d think she’d just tell him straight out, - thought Ron humorously to himself, - Harry I hope our talk helps… for both of us.-

He found Harry’s Quidditch locker after putting the spare broom in the main storage area. He opened and shut the locker, having placed the Firebolt inside.

A moment later he sat on the nearby bench as his body began to shake. Ron closed his eyes as cold shivers ran through him. Ron hadn’t intended to do this but couldn’t hold back anymore. His mind flashed back to the library and Justin maniacal behavior. His brain rehashed the fear as the image of Justin’s wand waved about and pointed in aim. Ron remembered as he had gasped when the wand had come to be aimed for him. He felt his mouth go dry as he remembered the words Justin nearly finished and the glowing green magic ready to strike. Ron also had to remember wishing that Harry would stop it. He had been so afraid that moment and did nothing, now Harry bared guilt for hurting Justin.

Ron just sat there letting his mind come to terms with what nearly had happened to him. He had ignored all thoughts and feelings of it while flying. Ron replayed the scene in his mind, remembering the flash… the sound… and more. Watching as a bolt of lightening shot from the shadowed entrance corridor of the library and hit Justin dead center. Finally, remembering the terrifying look that turned to shock in Harry’s expression.

Ron remembered the tarot cards; the Opposition card had shown five challengers, which meant Justin must have been the first.

He stood up and punched a nearby locker. Watching as the metal door snapped easily off the hinges and crumpled into the inner area of the locker.

Ron made a solemn resolution then and fear would not hold him back again.

He looked at his uninjured hand, whispering, “I wonder if Rela figured out anything more about this?”

Ron had to wipe the sweat from his forehead, as the room had somehow grown very warm very quickly.

He looked at the blazing torches in the locker room as he commented to himself curiously, -I don’t remember those being lit?-

Outside Hermione and Harry were heading back to the castle at a slow pace as the early evening set in. They hadn’t said much of anything to each other after Ron left to store the brooms.

Hermione stopped and Harry turned to see why.

“What’s wrong,” asked Harry?

Hermione was looking away with strong concern apparent in her look.

Keeping her gaze astray, she asked in return,” Harry… is there anything… you want to tell me?”

Harry started to get worried, Hermione didn’t act this way. She was being strangely coy and normally she had quite an attitude. A trait Harry realized suddenly was something of her that captivated him.

Harry approached her slowly to answer, “What do you want to know?”

Hermione looked up as Harry stood closely in front of her. The colors of the horizon from the slow setting evening sun played on his face. Harry’s green eyes were illuminated in the warm light.

-He looks incredible, - thought Hermione.

Harry gripped her arms as she saw concern building in his expression.

Hermione reacted instantly to his touch, strong but very gentle, sending shivers through her. Now he was so close and touching her, Hermione couldn’t think straight.

“I wanted to know…. Do you… Do you find me,” stuttered Hermione before finally saying quickly the only thing she could think of, “Do you need my help with the Transfiguration lesson?”

-Oh damn! -Hermione yelled furiously within her thoughts.

She stood their in his grip and stared at the ground. She couldn’t believe it, the moment was perfect, she had changed for it and yet she still couldn’t seem to tell him. It didn’t help when she thought that if Ron had been there he’d be passed out from laughing so hard. She could feel her face flushing hot with embarrassment and waited for Harry to start laughing at her fouled attempt. She was furious knowing that after all the planning; Harry was just going to laugh at her now and probably go see someone else… like Cho.

Harry’s hands slid away and he took a step back.

“I didn’t pay any attention to the lesson, “Harry cheerily answered,” If you will help me, I’d really appreciate it.”

Hermione looked up and saw Harry grinning in his own usual way, clueless to what she had just attempted. For a moment she was relieved of that.

“Look I know what happened in the library was… different,” said Harry cautiously,” But don’t let it change how you are around me… I like the way you are normally.”

“The way I am normally?” she inquired hastily and hopefully.

Harry fidgeted for a second, obviously not used to this type of situation.

He turned his eyes away but she could still see the honesty… and the struggle… as Harry answered, “You’ve been shy or something… and you’ve never had a problem speaking your mind… and its one of the great things about you… So don’t let what I did… “

Harry swallowed hard and Hermione could sense he didn’t want to remember it, as his expression reflected his thoughts. She reached into her pocket; contemplating if now was a good time to give back what he had thrown away.

She almost pulled it out when Filch interrupted.

“What’re you lot doing out here at this time of day,” sneered Filch with his cat, Ms. Norris, purring away at his feet, “Planning some more trouble are you?”

They were so startle by Filch’s untimely arrival; they were at a loss for a response.

“They were waiting for me,” came a voice, “I was putting our brooms away after practice and said I’d meet them here.”

They turned to see Ron walking towards them.

“With you three that’s hardly believable,” snapped Filch insultingly.

“I remember being told you were the caretaker for the castle, we’re outside the castle,” returned Ron in just an insulting tone, eyes glaring, fist clenched,” What do you care what we do outside the castle… It isn’t time for curfew and there’s no rule that says we can’t be otherwise.”

Hermione and Harry stared; Ron had never spoken like that to any of the staff of Hogwarts. It wasn’t like him to look for trouble, usually it came on its own being friends with Harry. He always tried to keep from having trouble but now Ron was asking for it.

Filch looked just as surprised to have a student quarrel back without fearing. Ms. Norris had her fur standing and her ears laid back. She hissed at Ron, obliviously not liking him even more so than she normally did of any student. Not saying another word, Filch turned and headed back to the castle, Ms. Norris at his heels looking back every so often with a hiss.

Before Harry or Hermione could ask, Ron spoke up,” I’m starved lets get to the Hall for good seats.”

Ron walked past into the awaiting castle. The other two hurried and followed him in.

“Those two are in for a long road,” laughed Daken, sitting on the ledge of an open window high up.

He could see the entire area between the castle and Quidditch field, plus all that occurred there.

“You can hardly be an expert given your past,” said a voice in the dark hallway of the window.

“Of all the people in the world, I can’t sense when you are near,” replied Daken,” So I guess its good be on the same side as you… eh Dumbledore?”

Dumbledore stepped into view of the dim sunlight as Daken said his name.

“Just because you can sense the emotions of others as well as their proximity,” spoke Dumbledore discouragingly as he approached,” Does not give you the right to pry.”

“You’re one to talk of prying,” Daken sipped from a small glass, filled with a reddish fluid, held in his hand,” When will you tell Harry that you know of his dreams… and how you know…. Potter may have quite a different opinion of you if he discovers just how much you haven’t told him”

“Daken,” began Dumbledore cautiously.

“Then do not presume to lecture me about what is right… I went down those roads before you even finished your own schooling… I am not here to help you,” growled Daken, “I am here to watch him and I’ll pry as I choose… until I know for sure… and do what I must.”

“I will not allow you to harm him,” warned Dumbledore, “Regardless of the events to come.”

Daken took another sip and let off a surrendering sigh,” Believe me I don’t want to… he’s best friend to Ron and with him has grown into someone incredible… as for the girl… like you pointed out, I am hardly one to speak… but infatuations won’t be enough.”

Dumbledore spoke simply, “You may yet be surprised what the relationships between those three will do… and prevent.”

Daken responded speaking directly to no one, “Dumbledore, the draw to that path is very overwhelming… and sweetly inviting.”

“I do not believe Potter will go that route,” assured Dumbledore.

Daken drained his glass and looked out at the setting sun, ignoring Dumbledore’s assurances, “I feel it… the rage… in Diagon Alley, before I intervened, Harry changed… that’s when I first felt it… surfacing… its there and growing… I’ve never felt anything near this intensity… near this dark.”

Dumbledore stood silent for a moment, thinking on Daken’s words.

Daken turned away from the window and looked hard at Dumbledore, “Many have been similarly demented as Malleck and evil like Voldemort… but this something else… and cold… like being encased in ice… even Malfoy could feel it… a cold rage.”

Daken waved his wand and the glass was refilled with a similar contents.

He wiggled the glass causing the thick liquid to swirl and added, “Even his desires are becoming more flustered… and frustrating… that will only make things more dangerous.”

Daken gulped the liquid in a single drink and the glass vanished by a wave of his wand.

Dumbledore spoke kindle but firmly, “I have felt these things as well, not to your degree but I know anger is strong in Harry but we cannot force him in any direction… we’ll only drive him away… as for his desires that may be what binds him,” stated Dumbledore.

Daken stood and started to slowly walk towards Dumbledore.

“With Harry’s continued resistance, the Fire can protect him for only so long… Earth can’t bind an unwilling heart… meanwhile it consumes him,” spoke Daken with a dangerous tone.

Now they stood side by side, facing in opposite directions and Daken finished, “That rage… that darkness… when it comes… I will end it… I will not let something worse than Malleck or Voldemort be unleashed… no matter the price. “

Daken walked on, vanishing in the dark hall, leaving Dumbledore alone.

Dumbledore walked towards the open window and looked out as the sun was on the verge of setting. A flutter of wings and a musical note announced the presence of Fawkes. The bird perched on the window ledge and gazed at the headmaster. Dumbledore shifted his gaze at the spot where Hermione and Harry had been very close.

With a heavy sigh while stroking the phoenix Dumbledore somberly spoke to no one in particular, “Daken’s pain has made him so forlorn he can only sense the worst of Harry… I too feel there is something powerful there but not just the rage, rather something that lies dormant.”

Fawkes gave a few chirps and Dumbledore smiled at his friend.

“Everyone goes through dark times in their life…Thankfully there are those who refuse to let those events corrupt us,” assured Dumbledore,“ Come Fawkes, the evening feast will begin soon and there are matters to attend to.”

Fawkes flew off and Dumbledore took his leave, vanishing as well into the dark hallway.

Harry and Hermione had caught up with Ron as he headed for the Great Hall. The issue of Filch had been ignored and instead talked normally with each other. All seemed to be going well until they reached the landing at the top of the stairs and a person they least wanted to see stood there.

Draco Malfoy

Draco stood alone at a distance from the doors to the Great Hall. He was just standing there, staring ahead at the close doors. He was deep in thought and fidgeted apprehensively. With a quick glance to each other it was agreed that the three friends were getting the same impression that Draco did not want to go in.

Slowly they walked up the final steps and Draco turned at their arrival.

Though it seemed impossible, Draco’s skin was paler. They could see that Draco had changed in the summer holiday. He stood equal with Harry in height but not in size. Draco was still quite gangly but his untrusting persona could still be felt.

“This is a surprise,” chuckled Ron, “We figured you transferred to Durmstrang.”

Harry saw in the corner of his eye that Hermione had suddenly pulled her robes tighter together at the mention of the foreign school. But the current situation kept Harry from dwelling on it.

Draco narrowed his eyes, as he responded with his jaw clenched and lips barely moving, “I don’t converse with the ragged.”

Hermione glared at Draco and Harry was planning his own words until Ron did the oddest thing.

He looked Draco square in the eyes and tilted his head to one side.

Slowly a knowing grin grew on Ron’s face and he laughed loudly following with a heavily insinuating and snobby tone, “That’s a nice way to say hello… even for your kind.”

Draco’s face went blank and his eyes widen. He took a step back and began to reach into his robes.

“Not a good idea… you’ll have to explain yourself which involves talking,” warned Ron threateningly.

Draco stood frozen. Ron’s odd words were having an effect on him. Ron looked eerily pleased while Draco’s eyes did a dance with his face revealing a silent conversation within his mind.

Whatever choice he may have made was interrupted by Daken’s arrival.

“Draco! You’ve come at last, I was getting ready to owl Narcissa,” called out Daken cheerily.

Draco looked horrified as he heard his named called from behind, especially the voice of the person who had just welcomed him.

In a swift motion, Daken turned Draco around and gave him a strong hug.

An action that caused the three Gryffindors to have to look at each other to confirm that this was still reality and Draco was being hugged by the very wizard whom Ron had said to have dragged his father to the ministry on Death eater charges.

What was more amazing was that Draco did not resist rather he seem to be returning the embrace hesitantly.

“Oh I forgot, it must be embarrassing to have that happen in front of your friends like that,” expressed Daken gleefully,” Its been what nearly three years now?”

“Friends?” chimed Hermione nonchalantly.

Draco turned back to them and his face showed absolute terror to the whole situation

Daken stood by Draco’s side with one hand on the Slytherin’s shoulder, smiling happily away.

It was then that Harry finally realized it. Daken’s familiar blonde hair… it was the same as Malfoy’s.

Daken laughed and answered, “I know its weird, Slytherins and Gryffindors rarely get along but ... Draco’s owls are very complimentary of you three and I’m glad you ’re able to break free of that social foolishness.”

“We’re,” began Ron as anger filled his posture but Harry stepped forth and interrupted.

“Of course we’re good friends,” responded Harry quite nicely.

He held his hand out to Draco as if it were natural.

“We were getting worried that something had happen… glad you came back… so we can have some more… adventures.”

Draco slowly raised his hand and shook Harry’s playing along to the ruse.

“Thanks… Harry,” slowly returned Draco,” Good to see you Hermione… Ron.”

Ron gave a quick nod and Hermione put on her best smile they hid her disgust.

“I better see my Head of House about my classes,” added Draco hastily and took off entering the Great Hall.

Harry looked at Daken and inquired quietly, “Draco never said that you two were related?”

Daken glanced at Ron and Hermione saw Ron nod his head in a no.

“I’m a very distant relative… a cousin from his father’s side,” answered Daken kindly but a hint of disapproval could be heard.

“The hair was the give away… not like your eyes… being silver and all,” remarked Harry plainly.

“Silver?” inquired Hermione staring at Daken, “They look brown to me.”

Daken smile faded and an unsettling look filled his expression.

In a placid tone he asked, “You can see the color of my eyes, how?”

Harry replied curtly, “All I have to do is look at you of course.”

Daken turned on his heel and walked away, giving only one last response, “The feast is about to start, I should let you join your housemates.”

Daken turned a corner and never looked back.

“What was that about, Ron?” asked Hermione.

“What,” was Ron’s response to her?

“When Daken looked at you after Harry asked about the relation to Draco, why did you nod at him?” explained Hermione.

“I guess he figured we knew already, so I think I sort of answered that,” answered Ron looking away but Hermione didn’t buy his story and Harry was thinking of something else not noticing their exchange.

-Why did he think we were friends, - thought Harry.

Hermione was going to question Ron more and Harry was going to tell them his thoughts but the doors of the Great Hall opened and McGonagall interrupted them.

“The feast is starting and I would impress upon you three either attend or go to your dormitory,” she said quite stiffly.

The trio walked past McGonagall entering the Great Hall and everything went quiet. All the talking among students, the laughs at jokes and the usual exchanges of gossip all ended as well. Everyone sat looking at the three students. Hermione, Ron and Harry stood there not moving as they looked around the hall.

Harry didn’t like the situation at all, being stared or gaped at. Everything made him very apprehensive. Harry was about to take a step back and head for the common room instead until Ron did yet another odd thing. He clasped his hand on Harry’s shoulder and stepped forward slight placing himself in front of Harry. Ron wasn’t the only one to do anything strange as Hermione’s hand slowly entwined with Harry’s and she moved closer to him. The Weasley twins glanced at each and Ginny before directing the attention to Ron now. Ginny focused on Hermione but she wasn’t the only girl to do so.

A small pop in the silent room startled everyone and redirected all attentions to Dumbledore as he stood ready to make an announcement.

The stares turned away the three moved to take seats at the end of the Gryffindor table.

“As all of you know there was a terrible ordeal in the library earlier this afternoon.”

Whispers followed quickly and Dumbledore raised his hand making all go silent again.

“It is true that the Unforgivable Curse known as the Death Curse was nearly used.”

Gasps filled the hall and Harry was fighting the urge to leave right away. Hermione slid a little closer to Harry and her perfume, which smelled the scent of flowers, seem to relax him. Ron’s hands were clenched in his fist as Dumbledore spoke.

“I would like everyone to know the complete facts before any harsh thoughts are made… Yes it was Justin Finch Fletchley but also not him… Upon examination it was discovered that his mind had been altered with a magic that has similar effects as the Imperious Curse that took control of him and directed his actions such as you know.”

Dumbledore paused letting the information sink in.

“Justin has no actual memory of the events but he has been told… He has minor injuries and will rejoin us in a few days. .. I strongly ask that the Hufflepuffs welcome him openly again as this transition will be difficult for him.”

The agreeing whispers and encouraging nods at the Hufflepuff table showed that there would be no question of it.

“Understand that the matter is not for open discussion in anyway… especially any taunting, even in jest,” spoke Dumbledore strangely firm,” Serious points will be taken from any house that has a student that does otherwise.”

The last statement was finished with a strong glance from Dumbledore to Snape, so even Slytherins were not to be exempt.

“The true perpetuator of this heinous act has not yet been fully identified.”

Dumbledore shifted his gaze around the room.

“On the mention of points… I would like to award a sixty points to Hufflepuffs for their support of their peer… fifty points to Ravenclaws, specifically Ms. Cho Chang, for trying to stop Justin and having been injured in the process… also twenty five points to Mr. Ronald Weasley as you were able to so promptly remove the debris giving access to Justin for Madam Pomfrey… And to Mr. Potter I award twenty points for the ones lost in your run to the library and twenty more for your efforts to calm things for my arrival, a total of forty points I believe.”

Dumbledore sat back down in his chair and with a tap of his wand to his plate the wondrous foods of the feast surfaced.

Harry picked at his food, it was Hermione who dished anything on to his plate for Harry seemed to have lost his appetite again and relied mostly on juice. Harry took a few bites here and there but he kept glancing at his friends.

Ron was tearing at a huge piece of steak in front of him. He tore pieces off and chewed them hard, swallowing quickly. He was still angry but why he had not said.

Hermione was nibbling on vegetables only. Her choice of foods was hardly odd compare to the way she was eating. Normally she had a book she was reading or going over a class lesson, instead she sat quiet holding her head low and looking away. Almost submissive like, similar to the way Harry would have done with the Dursleys’. Hermione seem to be trying not to be noticed as Harry had done in the past.

Harry thought it best to ask them after dinner rather than have anything said near prying ears. Especially since he had seen as Lavender and Patti were whispering to each other, giggling constantly and fooling with tarot cards.

However Harry and his friends never noticed that someone was watching them from the other side of the Hall. The doorway that Harry had gone through upon his proclamation into the tournament last year was open slightly. Someone stood there, in the dark room, glaring at the young Hero. The one who had defied the chaos of the Museum, the one who saved the hostages of the library, the one that must be defeated at all costs.

Students began to leave after a while to return to their common rooms for a bit of play and homework before preparing for another day at Hogwarts.

Ron, Hermione and Harry were some of the first to leave the table and go back to Gryffindor tower. Harry dropped down suddenly very tired onto a chair by the fire. Hermione walked toward him until Ron popped up by them with a wrapped plate in his hands and odd curiosity on his face.

“Hermione what are these? They sitting on the table with your name on them,” asked Ron holding the plate to her.

Ron had already opened it slightly, odd considering he didn’t pry into other people’s packages.

Hermione looked inside and answered, “They’re cookies.”

“Cookies,” remarked Ron.

“They’re a muggle sweet,” she finished his impending question.

Harry’s mind flashed back to earlier in the day and spoke up, “Are they cookies with chunks of chocolate in them?”

Hermione nodded answering, “Yes… my favorites.”

Ron and Harry could see that her thoughts were creating theories again as something strange like an unknown muggle sweet surfaced.

However Harry knew partly how they got there,” Dobby was making them earlier today before everything with the library… But how did he know?”

Ron shrugged his shoulders,” That elf was acting weird with me as well.”

“Well since its Dobby, I’m not worried,” said Hermione as she pulled out a cookie and began eating away at it.

She offered them to the boys, Harry knew it had been a while since he had cookies so he was eager for it but Ron examined it more before eating it himself since he was not use to muggle sweets.

It wasn’t until each of them had a few cookies and were in their dormitory before a thought came to Harry.

-Since when does Hermione not dismiss sweets as a late snack? -

He figured he ask her in the morning as Ron was already asleep and Harry was ready to follow suit. Neville and Dean were still in the common room doing their homework.

“Now what,” whispered Harry furiously as his nightmare replayed itself?

He didn’t even bother to try to maneuver the maze as it was always pointless.

What indeed…

Rejection is not welcomed so easily even though you wanted it as well.

“What do you mean,” shouted Harry?

The figure was more defined now. It was about Harry’s height but it wasn’t affected by the cold.

You can’t fool me… I know you enjoyed that… making some else suffer harshly…

Harry sat up in bed, grasping tightly the blanket and sheets in his hands. The horrid nightmare had come again like so many times before. Always cold and those damn eyes but the part that scared Harry most of all was the fact that it was right, Harry had enjoyed putting Justin in the hospital wing. A truth that chilled Harry to the bone, because he knew it wasn’t right, Justin hadn’t deserved that but it had been a great feeling to lash out.

Harry decided to get up even though it was early in the morning hours. Dean and Neville were still asleep so Harry walked quietly out. He still had the transfiguration lesson he had ignored, now would be a chance to work on it. However Harry didn’t check Ron so he didn’t know that his friend watched him walk out.

The next morning after breakfast they headed for their morning class of the day which was shared with the Ravenclaws. At the entrance a piece of parchment was adhered to the door.

“Always keep your wand ready and your instincts sharp.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione entered and took seats as close to the front of class as possible.

The room was void of anything materialist aside from tables, chairs and a single simple desk upfront. The tables had been arranged so that four could sit at one facing the front. One side of side of the room had the symbols of Slytherin and Ravenclaw while the other had Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. In front of each chair at a table was a small dark jewel connected to a pewter base sealed to the table. Students took seats at either side of the room based presumably on their house symbols. Hermione, Harry and Ron sat with Neville at the second table.

The bell rang signaling the start of morning classes but no one stepped through the office door ahead. A few minutes went by and Harry looked about the room to see small orbs in different places around the room and in different colors. The room made Harry slightly nervous as it reminded him of his own encounter with an orb. Ron was looking around the room, mostly in a general direction of Ravenclaws in the back. Hermione opened her book for the class and Harry found it odd of her to start at the first chapter as she would have been well past that already given the few days that had past between Diagon Ally and now.

Whispers and talk began to grow steadily in the few minutes that past.

Harry suddenly got an odd feeling and looked at Hermione strangely. She felt his gaze and smiled back at him.

-I wonder what he’s going to say,- she thought but was cut off as Harry lunged forth, pinning her to the floor.

Not even a second later something soared over them and hit their table, cracking it in half.

She opened her eyes to see Harry right on top of her, his breath warm and stimulating on her face. His eyes were averted in another direction.

“That is damn well not funny,” Ron’s angered voice came from near them.

Hermione turned and lifted her head to see that Ron had knocked Neville to the floor as well.

They slowly got up and their table magically repaired itself. They stood their looking about as did the rest of the class. There seemed to be no one else around.

A chuckle filtered into the room followed with a humor filled voice.

“What happened to last year’s lesson’s of constant vigilance?”

Neville was downright terrified as much of the class started to follow in that same emotion for the person who had taught them that was suppose to be dead. The imposter in any case should have been.

Instead a figure appeared in a small shadowed area by the door.

“Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts fifth years,” greeted Daken Valenor as he stepped into view.

“Daken,” snapped Ron surprised.

“Twenty points to Gryffindor for effectively avoiding the strike.”

Daken walked towards the front of the class until he reached the desk and sat upon it facing the students.

Harry and his group sat back at their repaired table and directed all their attention towards Daken.

“We’ll start with a few ground rules,” Daken began.

“First off, leave your books anywhere but here, you’ll use them for study and homework but not for anything in this class. That includes quills, ink and anything else. Your wands and bodies are all that is required.”

Sounds of bags being moved about as books were put away followed. Daken sat patiently as this was done. Harry put his book away and noticed that Hermione said nothing to using the books in class.

Once everyone was looking ahead again Daken continued.

“Homework will not be turned in at the start of class. I will have a box at the door for you to slip it into. Any assignment I give will be due within two weeks of that date, no exceptions.”

There were a few murmurs but he continued.

“Don’t call me Professor or mister for I will not do same with you… In defending yourself formalities are useless and time consuming. I will deduct points from any one who does that.”

A Ravenclaw boy in the back whispered something.

“Thirty points from Ravenclaw,” snapped Daken,” Do you wish to try for more Robert… ‘Hey Prof’ will not be accepted either?”

Now everyone knew Daken was serious.

“One warning about me is all you get,” stated Daken,” I will be both your best friend and your worst enemy in this class.”

Everyone glanced around at this.

“Alright first assignment, read the first three chapters. Next class, have the talisman you are to create in chapter two ready. If you don’t bring it, you’ll be in trouble but not with me rather because your opponent will have the advantage… Dismissed and Hermione remain a moment.”

Harry and Ron mentioned that they’d wait outside while Hermione remained seated as the class left.

Daken had sat himself behind his desk and was looking at a roll of parchment with his feet on the desk.

-He doesn’t really act like a Professor, - thought Hermione.

The class door slammed shut as the last student left.

Daken put the parchment down and Hermione looked at him.

“It was interesting how you two were pretty close last night,” spoke Daken as if it were a comment.

Hermione tried to formulate a response; the rules were clear about students being personal with each other.

“Forget about the perfect moment, you can’t plan for it… dress for it… or pick a spot for it,” started Daken.

Daken’s words were cut into her strong, as if he knew everything she had done.

“If you want… perfection, then remember what Molly said.”

Mrs. Weasley’s words replayed in Hermione’s mind and Daken’s unasked advice followed well with it.

“When the feelings of both of you overlap… the intensity… the desire… the need… everything will fit into place and the world around will mean nothing... When that connection happens that moment will be the perfect one.”

Hermione wasn’t sure how to react but regardless of her thoughts Daken continued.

“Patience makes things all that much sweeter… The most beautiful jungles grew with the patience of Earth… And like Earth you understand that a slow pace brings great reward… Given recent events some people’s feelings are in flux like your own from events earlier this summer… Too many strive quickly for their first kiss and it becomes ruined, so go at your own speed.”

Daken turn his attention back to the parchment which signaled Hermione that his request for her stay was over. She walked slowly towards the door pondering his strange advice.

The next two weeks didn’t make things any easier rather stranger each day.

Draco hardly said a word to anybody even in Potions. He barely insulted anybody and never said a word to the three Gryffindors. He skulked around in the hallways between classes. Crabbe and Goyle were hardly around him let alone anyone, Draco was avoiding people. Draco would sit at the end of the Slytherin table, eat mildly and leave. His own peers were taking heavy notice with his actions. Even stranger was that no matter how much time Draco spent in the sun light during Care of Magical Creatures, he never tanned if possible Draco only became paler.

Care of Magical Creatures had also been unexpected as it was an indefinite substitute in place of Hagrid who had apparently left for some reason. The only clue they could figure was that Hagrid had mentioned a mission.

Daken was true to his word about his warning. Their classes had involved using a talisman created to glow a specific colors during the exchange of spells. Daken wasted no time in having the students battle each other in class. Sometimes it was group to group or one on one and Ron had even gone crazy enough to go solo against a group. Although most everyone thought it was a stupid idea, Harry got the feeling that Ron wasn’t doing this as a joke but rather for other unsaid reasons. Amazingly enough Ron had nearly won. The talismans they were to make for the class were ‘life markers’ as they were labeled in the book. They were used in training simulations and changed color each time you were hit with a spell. The initial color was blue but slowly changed to violet meaning ‘death’ as one was hit during the course of exchange. Apparently through class the students discovered that Daken had turned the class into an Auror training area. The orbs placed around the room prevented any serious harm aside from stunning spells. Daken gave no reasoning behind his rather advanced start but would say that he would explain later.

Ron followed Harry just about everywhere. People found it odd that Ron would hardly leave Harry alone. The only real time Harry got separate from Ron was during Divination class, Ron still went but evidently no one had been able to convinced Trelawney to let Harry back into class as said by McGonagall. It seemed odd that Ron would go to Divination and Harry knew there was a reason why but he couldn’t remember it.

Hermione was still as perplexing as Ron. She didn’t impose about following the rules or doing homework as much as usual. She would suggest it and neither boy resisted much. She didn’t raise her hand every time a teacher asked a question and only answered when a question was directed at her. She always seemed to keep her robes as tightly pulled together as possible covering herself for some reason.

Harry was having a hard time himself. He was trying to avoid his nightmares by taking quick naps as to avoid anything in depth. Some nights the trio would set together quietly, sometimes talk and have some of Hermione’s warmed spiced pumpkin juice while Ron would get sweets from Dobby in the kitchen. The elf still always still seemed to know exactly what they wanted. Harry always slept well without dreams on those nights. Otherwise he fell asleep sometimes in class, but no one would wake him for a while.

The professors gave tremendous amounts of homework but the tests seemed so easy even Neville was getting excellent marks.

Snape seemed to be holding his tongue on saying anything in his Double Potion classes with the Slytherins and Gryffindors. He didn’t say anything insulting to Harry but never seem to pay any attention to Draco either.

McGonagall would be sharp with most of her students but avoided Ron and Harry. McGonagall did hover a lot around Hermione whispering to her from time to time. Once after class McGonagall had asked Hermione to stay behind and the boys waited outside. They stood there waiting as the breeze had been blowing in from the window and Harry got the urge to peek in. As he did he saw Hermione hesitantly hand something to McGonagall but she her head no and said something encouraging to Hermione who placed the item in her pocket and left the class.

With the two weeks that went by feeling more like a month it was nice to finally have some fun as the first Quidditch game was going to start.

Earlier there had been tryouts and Ron succeeded in acquiring the goal of Keeper which he stated had been his choice initially anyways. The replacing chasers were two second years Harry barely knew but they were small and fast. A captain hadn’t been decided yet and the issue was left unsettle for the first match against Hufflepuff.

The team was united, uniforms were on and they stood ready to enter the field.

Everyone was leaving the locker room except Harry and Ron inquired why.

“What is it Harry?” asked Ron.

“I don’t know Ron… I don’t feel right about this,” whispered Harry to his friend.

Ron smiled and soothed,” You’ve done fine in practice… you’re just nervous because we up against Hufflepuff… and there’s the history there.”

Ron pushed his friend lightly and Harry slowly followed where the other team members had gone.

As they flew into the field with their team mates, Harry took his position in the Seeker point.

Ron headed for the goals with one last comment,” Don’t worry… Quidditch is only a game.”

Next Chapter

Boiled Hearts and Tempers

13. Boiled Hearts and Tempers

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I apologize fore taking so long to update, admittedly I took a break to go over my previous chapters

I want to reiterate my deep appreciation for the wonderful reviews, I am inspired to go further and literally beg for more, picture hands and knees begging here. I will take all reviews. Tell me what you don’t like as well what you do like. I need criticism to grow. Admittedly some grammar and spelling errors are still present. I only have time to write at night and sometimes very late so I kind of miss a few things.

I don’t know the rules to Quidditch so I may have a few things incorrect by adding my own accounts to the game.

If you have questions you just HAVE to ask or would like to give me a more in depth review (of which I encourage) you can send/e-mail them to itmonster@hotmail.com . It’s the e-mail I use for my fan fictions, so it’s cool.

Revised 7/6/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 13

Boiled Hearts and Tempers

Harry still couldn’t stop feeling like something was wrong as all the players took their positions. It was even worse when the Hufflepuff seeker took position in front of Harry on the field… the Hufflepuff seeker… Justin Flinch-Fletchley.

The very boy Harry nearly killed now stared back at him with a nervous but friendly grin. Harry realized just how distracting things must have been the last two weeks to have never discovered that Justin was the replacement seeker for his house.

-Justin, - thought Harry as his insides went cold, -I never did say anything to him. -

He racked his brain with ideas of what to say to Justin concerning the library. Everything he thought sounded stupid.

Harry decided it best to simply tell him he was sorry and held no grudge about it. That was true; it was horrid being told by Dumbledore that Justin had been hurt so bad for something he was being forced to do and Harry was sure there had to have been something less drastic that could have been done.

So Harry gritted his teeth and did what he knew to be right.

There was one problem though he hadn’t been paying much of any attention to the field and Madam Hooch had blown her whistle at the moment Harry made his decision. So he had to remain in position until the Quaffle was thrown or risk a foul to Gryffindor.

The Bludgers flew up and out of the stadium, followed by the Golden Snitch. The tiny golden ball flew near Harry hovering there momentarily, almost as if it were daring Harry to take a grab at it.

Harry resisted reaching for it, Madam Hooch still had to throw up the Quaffle for the game to begin but the snitch still seem to just hover there when it was suppose to fly off.

Much to the crowd’s delight, Madam Hooch threw up the Quaffle and the game began.

Justin flew forward for the snitch and Harry backed off as the snitch flew towards him rather than away. Justin wasn’t able to catch the snitch as a group of chasers forced a detour as flying up quarreling for the Quaffle.

Harry hovered off to the side, high above the field. He decided on a different tact, just end the game quick and get to Justin before Hufflepuff goes to their locker room.

-Damn where is it, - yelled Harry inwardly.

Harry scanned the field high and low, squinting for the tiniest glint of gold.

Justin hovered even with Harry on the other side of the field. Fred held his position mid way down the Hufflepuff end of the field and his twin stayed near Ron. The Hufflepuff beaters had opposing positions, keeping themselves ready for the Bludgers at any time. The chasers went back and forth across the field sparing, sometimes aggressively, for the Quaffle.

Then he saw it, at the base of the Hufflepuff center goal, hovering just behind it... the Golden Snitch. Harry took off at full speed towards the goal post. Justin followed but whether having seen the snitch or not, no one knew.

The crowd roared as Harry and Justin sped by on either side towards the snitch. Every moment that passed, both seekers came closer to the snitch.

And with each moment passing, Harry’s bad feeling grew.

The snitch now could be easily seen, Harry could easily make a grab for it soon since Justin was trailing far behind with an inferior broom.

The snitch rose a few feet, moving out away from the goal post in Harry’s direction. It just stayed there as Harry closed in on it. Justin had no hope in getting it, as soon as it moved Harry would be on its trail.

Except as Harry closed in on it, the snitch didn’t fly away beckoning for the chase but instead flew at Harry. He wasn’t sure why but he veered off and let the snitch fly by. It stopped a few feet away and danced about as if taunting the Gryffindor. Justin flew by, having closed his gap in Harry’s hesitation. The snitch took off at top speed.

“What was that,” whispered Harry confused, “It flew towards me.”

Justin stopped, having lost the snitch somehow, clutching his hand close to himself.

Harry stayed where he was, by the center Hufflepuff goal post, looking around again but this time not for the snitch.

-Something’s wrong here, - thought Harry looking around.

The chasers were going back and forth...

The keepers held their positions...

The beaters were ready for the Bludgers…

“The Bludgers,” questioned Harry aloud before a strange realization set in?

Gripping his broom, Harry took off towards Madam Hooch.

A few minutes later the crowd murmured loudly as Madam Hooch blew her whistle three times calling for a timeout.

Harry landed on the field and the Gryffindor team descended to his position.

“Harry what’s going on,” asked Ron puzzled, “We’re ahead forty points.”

Harry didn’t answer but walked quickly towards the Hufflepuffs. The Gryffindors followed awaiting Harry’s explanation but nothing was said.

They came to a stop before the Hufflepuffs, much of the crowd’s murmurs still continued as the two teams met.

Before Harry said anything, he saw Justin’s hand, wrapped in a handkerchief with blood easily seeping through.

“Justin,” inquired Harry, “How did you get hurt?”

“I tried to grab the snitch but its wing cut me,” replied Justin.

“Your time is almost up,” stated Madam Hooch, approaching the teams.

Harry stared at Justin’s hand a moment longer before turning to Madam Hooch.

“Cancel the game,” stated Harry fiercely!

Everyone stared, including Madam Hooch.

Harry turned and grabbed Justin’s hand, pulling it out for everyone to see.

“The snitch isn’t sharp, how did it cut him,” snapped Harry?

“Harry it’s just a cut,” answered Fred.

“Harry,” began Ron hesitantly.

“Really,” snapped Harry again, glaring at them all, “You know you’re right… it is just a cut… just like the bruises we have are just bruises from those Bludgers bashing us around.”

One of the Hufflepuff beaters replied annoyed, “We haven’t had any trouble with the Bludgers, they’re… “

The boy stopped and everyone started to have the same thought but Harry voiced it, “Exactly… where are the Bludgers? I‘ve never played a game without having one on my tail.”

Ron whispered, “Malleck took long enough to do something more.”

“Perfect time,” responded Harry looking into the stands as another thought came to mind, “The whole castle and more, gathered here at once... lots of victims.”

Madam Hooch took to her broom, flying to Dumbledore in the stands.

She conversed with the Headmaster and it looked as if Dumbledore was going to agree with the cancellation from his nodding accept never got to give a final answer as the tower stands suddenly gave a violent shake as Bludger burst through the wall of the tower stand causing it to begin tilting to one side.

People in the crowd screamed at the site but changed their source of worry as the other Bludger appeared in similar fashion through another wall of stands. In seconds, both Bludgers were just bashing in and out of the stands. From the cracking sounds heard, the Bludgers were breaking the beams that supported the stone. The tower stands were beginning to wobble as the Bludgers easily destabilized them. Fear and panic intensified almost instantly. The Bludgers waved close to the students as the destructive duo pummeled into the stone splintering more support beams repeatedly.

The wind whipped about the scene and Harry knew he had to help.

“We have to hold back the Bludgers, beaters… with me and Ron,” commanded Harry, “The rest of you, get people out of here.”

Harry jumped on his broom, taking off, Ron and all four beaters following behind.

“Split up, “yelled Ron.

Harry, Ron and one of the Hufflepuff beaters went towards one Bludger as the others pursued the second one.

They closed in on it quickly and the Hufflepuff beater hit it with the club with all his might only to discover a new surprise. The club broke on impact and from the breaking sound with it so did the arm of the Hufflepuff boy.

In severe pain, the boy fell off his broom, caught by Harry in mid fall. Ron continued after the Bludger while Harry lowered the boy to the ground. The beater was in real pain and knowing that medical aid would be a while, something had to be done.

“I’m sorry about this,” apologized Harry pulling his wand out,” Stupefy!”

He stunned the boy, temporarily stopping the pain of the injury. Harry grabbed his broom, with wand in hand and was about to take off to help Ron only to be stop by a loud thud on the ground. He turned to see that Ron had a hold of their Bludger and was wrestling with it, in an amazingly strong grip, cursing freely at it.

Harry didn’t have time to gawk at his friend. Ron would buy time for the aid of professors with holding the Bludger back so attention had to be given to its twin. The beaters were fighting hard against it but having little result. It had already broken George’s club and the other Hufflepuff beater had blood trailing from his lip suggesting that the Bludger had done damaged to him previously.

Harry felt something in his blood energize and so, on his broom, took flight to help them. He was halfway there before something shiny whizzed by him following with searing pain in his arm. Harry stopped and touched the spot; pulling his hand back to find it covered in blood. Something gold blurred by again and yet again came the same pain but in his leg. Before having a chance to act, the thing struck again and again each time faster and faster. Harry managed to realize that it was the snitch attacking, its tiny wings like blades, slicing cloth and flesh easily. Harry wasn’t sure what to do, it was too fast to hit with a wand and the pain was very distracting. The one thing was sure and that was Harry was getting angry.

Someone flew by Harry and the attack stopped. Turning, he was surprised to see Justin there. Having removed his robes, Justin had trapped the snitch inside the bundled cloth.

Justin looked back at Harry, shouting, “I’ll take care of this, get the Bludger!”

Not saying a word, Harry continued his original path to help the other beaters. He discovered that the snitch had a done a well job in its purpose, as Fred being lowered to the ground by the Hufflepuff beater with help from George. Their Bludger, having escaped, headed into the Gryffindor stands.

There Hermione was using her magic to stabilize the stands while students tried to get out of the wobbling section. Harry watched helplessly as Hermione just barely dodged the Bludger as it smashed into her last position. The Bludger reappeared, bursting from underground a distance away and again flew towards Hermione.

Harry felt his pulse quicken and the air around go cold as he zoomed faster towards the Bludger, gaining significant ground easily. Soon everything was just a blur as his speed multiplied and the boom grew hot from the expending magic. He could feel a stinging sensation in his eyes. He had come within a few feet of the Bludger as it finished the distance towards the stands. Harry could feel a prickling sensation fill his body as his anger grew.

Hermione continued to use her magic in spite of the looming threat to help her fellow peers. A fact that made Harry angrier, his friend, someone he felt close to, having had odd sensations for now stood in imminent danger still helping others as he would. The Bludger was going to hit into the stands no matter what and Harry knew that couldn’t be stopped but there was something that could be changed and that was who it would hit…

A surge of strength flowed through him and with a powerful burst pushed past the Bludger. His last memory was connecting with it, pushing it away before he and the Bludger smashed into the stone wall of the stands.

Hermione watched the scene horrified, as they passed into the insides of the stands. The Bludger exited out through the back and Hermione hurried down the stairs to the lower inside levels.

Hermione managed to work her way through the fallen wooden beams and past the chunks of stone brick to where Harry lay. The site that greeted her caused her breath to stop as the rhythms of her chest froze.

There Harry lay; amidst stone and wood from the wall of the Gryffindor stands. His glasses gone, robes shredded while blood pooled slowly from his mouth and on his chest from hidden wounds.

Hermione knelt as close as she could get, wanting to do something, anything but knowing to move him would only make things worse until his injuries were known. A slow fluidic sound of air moving and the rising of Harry’s chest told Hermione that he still lived. She was relieved to know that fact but she had little time to relish upon it as the developing sound of a whistle reached her ears.

Hermione looked out through the opening created by Harry’s battle with the Bludger to see a small metal object growing in size as it drew nearer, gaining in speed.

The Bludger had returned and now hurled straight for them; ready to finish its dark mission.

Hermione stood, withdrew her wand and took aim…

Every charm, curse and hex left her wand and hit the Bludger but to no avail. Whatever was done to make the Bludger take on a dastardly quest of destruction had also made it invulnerable to magic as all of Hermione’s spells did nothing but create show of fireworks as the Bludger blazed through them unaffected. Closer and closer it drew as its whistling warning intensified.

Hermione knew only one way now to stop further injury to Harry. With a quick squeeze to his hand, Hermione moved and stood before the opening between Harry and the oncoming metallic beast.

She could feel her cheeks become wet as tears streamed down from her eyes. Her body would most likely not withstand the hit but it would buy time for professors to get to them.

Time slowed down for her as the Bludger closed the final distance; she took in a deep breath as a quick breeze blew past her.

“I won’t let you die Harry, “whispered Hermione to the unconscious boy, “I… I… I l…”

Hermione didn’t finish her message. The Bludger passed into the opening of the stands and in a moment she knew all would end.

A deep growl resonated behind her…

Hermione meant to turn but a crushing grip formed around her waist and violently pulled her away from the opening…

From the corner of her eye all she saw was the Bludger come within inches of a dark figure... a bleeding figure.

There came a bright flash ending with a deafening explosion. Hermione felt the front of her hit something hard and a great weight lay on upon her.

Still stunned from the explosion she managed to make out the stone she had fallen down upon. Ahead a wall of piled stone and broken beams fell away as a red haired figure, loudly cursing, pushed away the blocking debris with ease. She just noticed the blood splattered, robe torn arm that draped over her shoulder before finally fainting.

When she awoke…

“Do you expect me to believe that Potter destroyed that Bludger while in this condition,” scoffed Madam Pomfrey, “I can’t believe that… even with the previous injuries he’s had before, it would have been indescribable the amount of pain that there would have been to even consider moving let alone destroy anything.”

Hermione had begun to open her eyes and heard Madam Pomfrey speak this. She was in a bed, presumably in the hospital wing with the curtain drawn all the way around her.

“Believe it,” came Daken’s snapping voice,” The girl had flash burns on her robes and you removed the metal bits of the Bludger from his arm yourself.”

A soothing voice now spoke, “Madam Pomfrey… Daken… enough… yes this is all strange… but for now we must help Harry… where is your assistant?”

Hermione could recognize Dumbledore voice anywhere.

“She’s helping the other professors with the students… Dumbledore… Harry isn’t responding to my healing spells… and he seems to have developed some kind of resistance to my potions,” spoke Pomfrey seriously concerned, “Unless I can increase his body’s strength, I can’t use any stronger magic.”

“Then we shall have to use other means,” simply stated Dumbledore.

“So you know which one is Earth then? My suspicions were correct it really is,” spoke Daken were a note of satisfaction.

Dumbledore interrupted with an odd hint of strong authority,” I only have thoughts of strong possibility… I will not ask until I know for sure… but you, Daken… can provide the other means as to which I was referring to.”

“What can he do?” asked Madam Pomfrey.

Dumbledore spoke again but his voice was no longer soothing rather hard and final, “Poppy, please leave us… you cannot be present for this.”

Hermione listened as well as she could, hardly daring to breathe in fear that they would know she was awake and listening. She could hear the nurse make a sound as if to protest but footsteps soon told Hermione that the nurse had left as told to.

“This is a bad idea,” spoke Daken with a hint a danger,” You’ve already got me here and Draco is not far along enough. Harry will have side effects of the transition… you’ll have a territory fight before long.”

“Each problem as they occur, we shall deal with, “replied Dumbledore his tone the same.

A silence fell and Hermione waited…

“Get the knife,” spoke Daken viciously, “Pray that the first girl to fall victim to this will... understand.”

“It will only be temporary, I’m sure Harry will control himself,” stated Dumbledore, “It should only be about a month or two.”

“I will remember you said that when he feels the effects of the boiling blood,” replied Daken in an acid tone.

Hermione let her thoughts go rampant of the information she had gathered as the room went silent again except for the clinking of vials and the unsheathing of a blade. A small grunt told her that something had been cut with effort.

Daken spoke again and his tone had not changed, “The wounds are healing… incredibly faster than they should… Severus will need to make more of the potion… I don’t have enough for three.”

“I will speak with him before the day ends,” spoke Dumbledore, his voice soothing again,” You’ll be… explaining this to Ronald?”

A quick silence came…

“I’d rather tell Molly, Ron might burn my skin off when he finds out,” replied Daken quietly,” I’m sure Ron is the Fire elemental as we know almost for certain that Harry is the Lightening one.”

“Ronald has displayed little magic to demonstrate such a thing,” spoke Dumbledore inquiringly.

There was a loud snort followed with, “Ask Molly about Ron as a baby… when I first met his family and then you’ll know why I can be so sure.”

Another silence came and Daken spoke again with a hint of desire in his voice.

“I wonder if Severus might have the right idea… we’ll know for certain of the two boys and it will confirm the Earth one as well.”

Hermione could not remember the last time she ever heard Dumbledore speak in a voice of a threatening nature but now she did.

“I have let you have much of your way in this school but no such attempt shall be done… I am headmaster and for the moment… you are a professor here… do not test that.”

“Very well… Headmaster,” responded Daken placidly before his footsteps could be heard leaving.

Another silence came before Dumbledore spoke again.

“What could be compelling enough to awaken him to such a painful state and drive him to continue fighting?” questioned Dumbledore openly but his voice gave the hint to knowing the answer already.

Hermione was preparing to act as if she had awoken but waited when new footsteps entered the room.

“Headmaster all the students have been met with and there are no injuries aside from Mr. Flinch-Fletchley and Ms. Chang,” reported a familiar woman’s voice,” He had some very bad cuts, while the lady had a fractured collar bone but both are fine now but I asked for them both to stop by tomorrow for a checkup.”

“That is good to hear,” replied Dumbledore with a relieving sigh.

“How is Harry?” asked the woman.

“See for yourself.”

A loud gasp soon replaced the momentary silence.

“I knew Madam Pomfrey was highly accommodated for healing skills but I didn’t know she could work this fast... Harry’s nearly healed,” spoke the woman with great surprise.

Hermione could see the figure of the woman in shadows on the drawn curtain… a very definite figure.

“I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will be glad to know you are impressed,” added Dumbledore,” Especially coming from someone as young as you Ms. Nulbeck.”

-Maylen, - thought Hermione –The woman from the museum?-

The figure of the woman turned and her shadowed hand reached for Hermione’s drawn curtain. In a quick instant she had pulled the curtain open and stood with a grin as she looked down at the awaken Hermione.

“Good evening Hermione,” greeted Maylen with a sweet smile,” You’re a lucky girl. Not many boys go through this kind of pain for their… friends.”

“Ah Ms. Granger, I am pleased to know you are well and uninjured,” added Dumbledore with a smile.

Hermione wondered if he knew she had been awake the whole time. His smile certainly suggested that.

Dumbledore made to leave the hospital wing with farewell nod.

After closing the doors behind him, Maylen turned back to Harry as Hermione climbed out of the bed.

“He’s a mess,” chuckled Maylen,” Boys and their sports… they just can’t play nice can they?”

Hermione found that she may not have been injured but she was sore all over since she had been tossed around and knocked hard to the floor. Maylen stood beside Harry watching Hermione kindly.

“What,” asked Hermione curiously?

“I need to clean Harry up from this bloodied mess,” answered Maylen quietly.

“So,” replied Hermione, stretching a bit.

Maylen continued to stand in the same spot, her eyebrows raised and her lips pursed together in a straining grin.

“I think you’re still a little young for this,” continued Maylen, humor evident in her voice.

Maylen was trying not to laugh about something but Hermione wasn’t following. Hermione watched as the young nurse’s eyes trailed along Harry’s form from head to toe then back to Hermione with her head titled. Hermione still didn’t get the message Maylen was trying to silently imply until Hermione did the same thing as Maylen. Hermione scanned Harry from head to toe, seeing his bloodied and torn clothes from shirt to shoes.

-What is she getting at, so his whole body is…- inquired Hermione to herself until at last the implied idea sunk in.

-His whole body?-

“Oh… yes I’ll go,” spoke up Hermione as her face went hot and red with embarrassment.

Harry’s face wasn’t the only area that needed to be cleaned as Hermione finally realized. She left the hospital wing as quickly as possible, still blushing as red as possible. She walked through the darkened corridor, heading for the library to see if she could find some answers to the clues she now had.

“She’s quite persistent, if not nosy,” chuckled Daken quietly as he stepped forth from a shadowed area near the door of the hospital wing.

“Hermione isn’t the only one who’s nosy,” came a boy’s voice that Daken recognized but knew it couldn’t be.

“It can’t be…”

“Humans can use the Shadow Shroud spell too, Daken,” said Ron as he stepped from a shadow as well near Daken.

“When?”

“Studied it ever since Harry woke up in the dormitory after the void spell was used,” answered Ron,” I knew you were in the room. You told me about the Shadow Shroud before… knowing what you are, I knew what to look for.”

“It’s not something to fool with Ron, the cold can kill if you wait too long,” informed Daken cautiously.

Ron being able to perform the Shadow Shroud spell effectively and have been in it so long without freezing surprised Daken completely.

-Percy couldn’t even do that spell, - thought Daken worryingly.

“Lecture me later about dangerous magic,” snapped Ron impatiently, “I heard the vials and I saw the knife but I don’t want to believe that you infused Harry with your blood.”

“Then you know what Harry will go through,” asked Daken cautiously.

Ron looked severely unsettled and was glaring at Daken. The corridor was suddenly getting warm even though the evening was cool and the sun low. Sweat beaded on Daken’s forehead but Ron remained completely normal.

“I’ll keep Harry from … hurting anyone,” answered Ron in a dark and quiet voice, “You get me some of that potion and keep Draco at bay… Draco makes one move and I’ll be the one who finishes it.”

“Ron… what’s happening to you,” inquired Daken slowly and worryingly,” You were never so sinister like?”

The room heated up further and the air was getting hard to breathe as it heated. The torches in the corridors began to ignite on their own. Daken struggle with his breath and watched in surprised as Ron was still un-phased by the changing environment.

-I was right… he is the Fire elemental, - thought Daken, - Just like years ago, his temper is heating things up.-

“I made a few decisions,” answered Ron in a near whisper,” And watching your best friend nearly get mutilated kind of adds to it.”

With that Ron walked away turning the corner, leaving Daken alone as the corridor began to cooled.

“Will you still protect him when he tries to kill you,” spoke Daken fearfully.

Evening fell upon Hogwarts and the Great Hall filled with students for the feast. There was hardly any talk of Quidditch and Dumbledore made only one announcement to say that Harry was okay. Hermione and Ron sat at the end of the table. Ron demolished anything and everything on his plate. Some people dared to ask Ron about Harry only to receive curt and simple answers. Hermione ignored everything around her eating quietly while focusing her mind on what was said in the hospital wing.

What could be compelling enough…

I don’t have enough for three…

A territory fight before long…

Boiling blood…

The first girl to fall victim…

-What does it all mean, - thought Hermione?

Later they tried to visit Harry but Madam Pomfrey forbade it, even when asked if permission were acquired. Ron didn’t seem happy but was not surprised at the answer. Hermione felt uneasy about leaving Harry alone for so long. Madam Pomfrey may have been refusing visitation but she also seemed very hesitant about being in the hospital wing herself. Ron and Hermione barely spoke except to bid each other goodnight after working on their homework for a while. In time the castle went quiet as students settled in for a night’s rest and pleasant dreams before another day of classes.

However Harry’s dreams were of the opposite sort…

It was night, fog was everywhere but it wasn’t putrid smelling. It was still cold but not numbingly so. Moonlight filtered through the dense fog and Harry could make out bits of shrubbery and dark soil. Harry could definitely tell this was not the maze he normally expected.

“Now what,” whispered Harry?

Harry walked forward near the shrubby he could see.

“Did you think you could hide things from me for long?” came a growling voice.

“I’d call it convenient withholding of certain truths,” followed a dark voice.

“Call it what you wish, she won’t be yours,” said the growling voice.

Journeying through the fog, Harry found himself behind a bush that hid him from a strange scene. Further ahead Harry could see two men arguing. Their appearances were only dark figures to Harry as the moonlight did not filter enough through the fog to reveal their forms.

“She chose me, I didn’t need magic to sway someone as desperate and simple as her,” stated the dark voice.

”There is only one person among us who truly loves her and you won’t destroy that,” threatened the growling voice.

”Love?” questioned the dark voice,” You’re not one to speak of love and destruction… isn’t that right Malleck? You who dwells in suffering and torture for amusement… you lecture me about who can love and who can destroy… ridiculous, we are the same type of wizard.”

The growling voice chuckled and replied, “The same type? Hardly, I don’t deny being a half breed… you lie to others about your so called pure blood… the very blood spawned from a muggle father that rejected you… oh yes how wonderful it would be if your close ‘friends’ discovered just how pure that wizard heritage of yours really is.”

“Do not dare to threaten me,” yelled the dark voice with a dangerous tone,” I am nothing of muggle filth!”

A swish of air and Harry could see wands being drawn. The one with a growling voice was amazingly fast and drew his wand first. He spoke a word Harry could not understand and in an instant, now held the other’s wand.

“Did you forget my advice? “The growling voice spoke, “Always keep your wand ready and your instincts sharp.”

The dark voice said nothing in return.

“Don’t worry too much… you know I’d never hurt her,” sneered the growling voice raising its wand,” As far she’ll ever know when your corpse is buried and her tears are shed is that Malleck killed you while stealing my research… Goodbye friend.”

The growling one raised his wand and a green glow filled the tip. The moment came for the curse to unleash but the wizard lost the chance. Another spell pierced the fog, the same shade of green and struck the wizard with the growling voice down.

A new figure emerged from behind the fallen wizard, a figure of a woman with her wand raised in attack. The dark one approached her as she stood next to the body of the defeated wizard.

“We should leave here, an unforgivable curse will be detected,” said the dark voice which had lightened to a softer, more human tone.

“I killed him,” whispered the woman in an emotionally vacant voice.

“You didn’t know… no one did,” said the wizard,” You saved me… You have no idea how appreciative I am of that.”

The wizard leaned in towards the woman and Harry got the distinct impression he was kissing her.

A moment later, the wizard guided her away with one last thing Harry could hear, “Things will be different now that Malleck no longer threatens… others. You are the reason for that change, remember well.”

The couple vanished into the thick fog and Harry stepped out from the bushes, walking slowly to the fallen wizard.

-Malleck is dead- thought Harry confused?

“Markus!”

A glowing fire appeared in the fog as another emerged carrying a torch and held his wand ready. Harry was going to go back the bush but it was too late. He was standing by the body, surely to have been seen. Harry began to back away as the wizard tossed the torch aside and approached, trying to think of what to say but the truth would be as weird the previous moments were. The wizard fell to his knees by the fallen one and hoisted the torso closer to him. The wizard seemed to ignore Harry completely.

A raspy breath escaped the torso and Harry realized the person was still alive.

“Markus, I’m sorry! I was trapped by a void spell and I …”

The newly arrived wizard tried to explain his apparent failure in sobs but the raspy voice interrupted him, stuttering.

“She… does not… know… tell her,” struggled the raspy voice, dwindling in strength, “Fibuar… Yubarem… Maypium…”

One last breath escaped from the lips of the struck wizard followed by his body giving one last shake before at last the end had come and his form went limp in final death. Sobs of anger came as the kneeling wizard cried, holding this person who must have been his friend. Harry wanted to say something but having realized he was in a dream knew that he was only witnessing events and not able to partake in them.

The crying wizard, between sobs, made a vow in whisper to the fallen one.

His voice growled much the same as the fallen wizard,” He’ll pay dearly for this… no matter what must be done… no matter who must die… he’ll pay.”

The vowing wizard raised his head and in the dim moonlight filtered by the fog, the only descriptive features Harry could see of this person were silver eyes… and fangs.

Harry woke up suddenly, looking around to see the hospital wing and the hour must be late given the darkness in the room. A warm light glowed by his side and squinted to see a small fire crackling in midair. A small green thing lay at the end of the bed and realized from the squeaking sounds that it was a snoring house elf.

“Dobby,” whispered Harry.

So the odd elf stayed with Harry when others couldn’t at that hour. Harry could help but find it comforting to know that Dobby would put itself out so much for his sake creating a fire that kept them warm during the night and being a companion to curb any loneliness.

Harry felt awake now even having had another terrible dream but was grateful for not having to converse with anything this time. He slowly climbed out of bed, grabbed a blanket from nearby and tucked it around the elf.

Having found his glasses, Harry walked over to the window and looked out into the night. He realized suddenly there were some odd details about these actions. The fact that he felt completely well, no soreness or stiffness, not even a single scratch that he could see, were apparent. In fact he felt incredible and that was even stranger considering he had gone through a wall of stone.

Harry decided to wait a while by the window in peace for now that he had it. No one was asking him how he felt or if there was any pain. Finally just alone, no one prying or following, just alone with the water jugs and the sleeping elf in the quiet hospital room. The quiet would be wonderful since he had double potions in the afternoon with the Slytherins.

Time passed by, Harry watched as the sun rose and roosters in the pen followed their morning rituals. Birds flew about gathering bugs and the owls returned from a night’s hunt. He could smell the fragrance of the flowers blooming nearby and the wetness in the air from the early dew. Everything seemed so alive to Harry, like all were screaming their existence in someway. Sounds and smells reached Harry’s senses and felt energized by it all. He even started to feel hungry.

The door to the hospital wing opened and someone came in. Harry turned to see and saw Hermione tiptoeing towards the hospital bed he was suppose to be in. She was carrying a tray in front of her, filled with fruit. She didn’t see him by the window, so he moved to meet her there.

She was within a few feet of his bed and must think that Dobby was him for she wasn’t looking anywhere else. Harry walked slowly behind her, unaware that he made no noise in his approach. As he drew closer, he couldn’t help but notice there was a certain scent in the air around her... a very alluring scent even delicious in a way as his mouth watered at the smell. He could also hear a strange sound like a drum beating faintly nearby. These new smells and odd sound increased his new appetite.

Hermione came to a stop as she had reached the bed and noticed it was Dobby there, not Harry. To even his own surprise, Harry had closed the gap between them easily and unnoticed.

He reached out and touched her shoulder.

Hermione gasped deeply preparing to scream when she heard Harry speak.

“Madam Pomfrey won’t like you sneaking in here.”

Hermione turned and released the air she had taken in, thankfully without screaming.

“You scared me! I didn’t know you were behind me,” whispered Hermione furiously.

Hermione took a second to look Harry over. He was fine and that was the problem she noticed. Harry didn’t have any signs of previous injuries, not a bruise or a scratch on him... just a little pale and a bit hungry looking.

“Harry? How did they heal you so fast? You were in seriously bad shape to recover so quickly? It looks like you were never hurt at all,” inquired Hermione confused.

Harry smiled and answered, “I guess Madam Pomfrey is better than we thought.”

Being near Hermione, having her looking at him in so closely was doing something odd to Harry. He felt drawn to her but… differently somehow. There was something about his friend that he wanted and he stared at her eyes and lips as before but there was something else now.

Harry stepped closer to her and felt as things grew more intense.

Hermione was surprised to see Harry come so close to her and even became happy to see that action. That was until her feelings took an odd turn. Suddenly she got a familiar feeling of panic and her instincts started to tell her to leave. The only thing that was between them was the fruit tray she held but it was no comfort. Something about Harry was starting to scare her.

Harry raised his hand and Hermione began to shake slightly, fighting her feelings to run.

-What is this, - she thought closing her eyes, unknowingly terrified.

A moment later she heard a crunch and then Harry’s voice.

“Did you want the apple?”

She opened her eyes and there he stood having taken a large bite out of the apple she had brought... the reddest one she could find.

She shook her head saying no and looked at his eyes, which were focusing on her. She knew she was wrong but swore there was a hint of silver in his normally green eyes. She still felt scared of him for some reason like she had once before with another as he took slow bites of the apple, never diverting his eyes away. She actually even got the feeling that there was something he was hungry for and fruit would not be it, a feeling that can’t be right.

“I can’t eat all that my-self… have some too,” spoke Harry, his voice oddly quiet and soothing but a small hint of a growl there as well.

Hermione sat down, avoiding Dobby who still snoozed away and began eating grapes. Harry’s eyes still remained on her and she just couldn‘t ignore the feeling as if she were being… but that was silly, Harry was not way.

The doors to the hospital open suddenly and Ron stepped in quickly, his wand ready. It was the first time Harry drew his attention away. Ron surveyed the two with an odd expression.

“What’s going on,” asked Ron slowly and quietly?

Harry still chewed on the apple slowly, raising his eyebrows, he answered, “Some would call it breakfast… what about you? Chasing somebody with your wand?”

Ron slowly put his wand back into his robes and walked towards them, “Just a bit of precaution.”

Ron sat next to Hermione, watching Harry intently. Harry seemed to focus everything on his apple to which in all this time he still hadn’t finished.

“Hermione’s got a couple of oranges hidden in there if you want one,” said Harry not looking at them.

Hermione looked at Ron and back to Harry before replying, “How did you know that, they’re buried under everything else?”

“I can smell them,” said Harry shrugging his shoulders.

Ron looked back to Hermione who pulled two oranges out from underneath a pile of bananas and grapes. Ron realized he wouldn’t have seen them either. Hermione gave one to him and Ron began peeling it. Harry continued to nibble at the apple. Hermione stuck with her grapes. They let Dobby sleep and ate in silence.

Ron watched as Harry continued to take glances at Hermione and he knew that Harry was trying to figure out the new sensations.

Hermione saw the glances from Harry and saw as Ron kept his attention on Harry, wondering why they were so quiet.

Daken looked through a crack in the door in Madam Pomfrey’s office, “This is going to get serious. Everything’s going to get crazy soon… what with their,” whispered Daken aloud, “Boiled Hearts and Tempers.”

Next Chapter

Second Challenge

14. The Second Challenge

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I am very sorry about making everyone wait so long. Admittedly, I did it on purpose. I wrote the chapter originally but it came out completely wrong and in my frustration with trying to correct it, I deleted it. Left it alone for a couple of days and wrote again from scratch, following my outline for it better. I’m still not satisfied with it yet and it will no doubt suffer minor revisions. But overall it achieved what I wanted.

If you have questions you just HAVE to ask or would like to give me a more in depth review (of which I encourage) you can send/e-mail them to itmonster@hotmail.com. It’s the e-mail I use for my fan fictions, so it’s cool.

Revised 7/6/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 14

The Second Challenge

The sun peaked in the early morning time, filling the castle with sunlight and Hogwarts, student and professor alike, arose to begin a new day. Ron and Hermione sat with their amazingly recovered friend, Harry, sharing a fruit filled tray for an early breakfast with very little conversation. Dobby still lay asleep near them.

Harry had consistently and surely nibbled away the red apple acquired from Hermione to nearly a stick for a core. Hermione had continued with grapes, having occasional bites from a pear while Ron munched effortlessly through the rest of the fruit.

Harry would glance at the two of them from time to time while, as Ron noticed, taking longer with Hermione each time. Ron watched as Harry’s eyes would focus on Hermione, each time squinting into a questioned glare.

Hermione couldn’t help but noticed that something odd was going on between the two boys. Harry sat perfectly relaxed on the bed in front of them but Ron appeared to be on edge. She watched as he put pieces of an orange in his mouth, sometimes it had been pieces of the peel but didn’t notice the difference. Even when he bit into the pit of peach, she heard the hard crunch of the nut in his teeth but yet again, Ron hadn’t seemed to notice. Rather all his attention lay on Harry as if waiting for something.

Harry stood up and tossed the apple, what was left of it, into a small bin and stretched, then looked down at his friends with a small smile, which caused Ron to go completely still.

“I didn’t know house elves ever slept,” inquire Harry, speaking suddenly, looking upon the odd elf with a funny grin?

“They sleep,” answered Hermione, “A little each day, an hour or two maybe… it just depends on the elf and how much magic they use.”

“Elves sleep because they use magic… how do you know that, “asked Ron?

Hermione blushed a bit before answering, “When I started SPEW I researched them remember? Elves are magic creatures, so their existence is based on magic… if they use a lot they need to sleep or eat to recover from using it.”

“Well breakfast in the Great Hall should be starting by now, “said Harry, “I’d better change so as not be late for morning class.”

“Don’t bother,” responded Hermione, “Its going to be announced that morning classes are canceled because of all the owls and ministry people that’ll most likely be showing up.”

Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows asking, “How do you know that?”

“McGonagall told me yesterday, so we just have double Potions in the afternoon, “answered Hermione quickly.

“I’ll change anyway, so I can get out of here, “remarked Harry.

Ron stood and added a hesitant objection,” Maybe you should stay here until one of the nurses says its okay for you to go.”

Like Harry, Hermione was surprised to hear such an unexpected response from Ron.

“Ron… I feel fine,” replied Harry watching his friend,” And I’m still hungry, sorry Hermione… but fruit isn’t doing much for me.”

“I’ll get your uniform then,” spoke Ron quickly,” Hermione, we both better leave before Madam Pomfrey sees us.”

Ron pulled Hermione up from the bed, forgetting the fruit tray which slid off her lap falling to the floor, filling the room with a resonating ring of clattering metal. All three were startled but even more so was Dobby as the elf woke up with a terrified squeak, looking around.

“Sorry Dobby,” chuckled Harry, turning to the creature, “The tray fell; we didn’t mean to scare you.”

Harry moved towards the elf while explaining only Dobby hopped off the bed and scurried a feet away, his large eyes stared at Harry. Standing a distance away, the elf held its posture in a slight hunch as it had done when in the slavery service of the Malfoys… a posture of fear.

Harry looked at his friends before asking, “Dobby what’s the matter?”

“Dobby must go,” quickly and quietly replied the, more than usually, odd acting elf.

Before anyone could say anything more to Dobby, the elf snapped its fingers and vanished in a small puff of smoke. At the same time, the drawer of the night stand opened to reveal Harry’s uniform pressed and ready for wear.

Harry stood there in confusion, thinking as he realized that Dobby had been frightened… of him… but why?

“We’ll wait outside,” spoke Ron hastily, grabbing Hermione’s shoulder and pulling her again.

Ron shut the Hospital wing door, Hermione stood a few feet away massaging her shoulder as they waited for Harry.

“Hermione,” quietly spoke Ron, facing the door,” I’ve kept your secret as promised and told no one, not even Harry… now you need to make a promise to me.”

“What kind of promise,” asked Hermione worried to Ron’s behavior?

Ron turned from the door and faced her, his expression stern and absolute.

“Don’t be alone with Harry,” he spoke plainly,” At least not for a while, maybe a week.”

“Why,” began Hermione.

The door to the hospital wing opened and Harry stepped out, dressed and ready. Nothing more could be said between Ron and Hermione.

Dobby’s frighten behavior was, for the time, forgotten as Harry, Ron and Hermione walked through Hogwarts to the Great Hall. Initially the trio talked normally amongst themselves leaving the Hospital wing but when entering the main corridors of the castle, their idle talk ended abruptly.

They were met with an unexpected welcome. The students of Hogwarts acted very much like the people in Diagon Alley during the end of the summer holidays. Whispered stories of the Quidditch match. Younger students standing or staring in admiration as the stories of the Boy Who Lived greatness seemed to have been validated by the recent events. Groups of girls would giggle as before while the older boys stood near, jealousy evident in their silent expressions.

They both knew Harry normally despised this kind of attention and yet, this time, something was different. Hermione and Ron watched as Harry shifted his gaze from one place in the crowd to the next, generally observing groups of people seemingly at random, rather than keep his look straight forward or on his friends. As they passed the giggling girls, Harry would glance in their direction, leaving many of the boys’ jealousies to simmer further.

The difference became apparent in the scene following a collision with Harry and another student.

Harry and a young girl fell to the floor in a mass of robes and school things. Ron pulled Harry from the floor and back to his feet. The girl remained on the floor, trying desperately to gather her scattered things. Hermione moved to help her as did Harry. The girl’s cheeks were as red as her small face would allow as she kept her gaze down, piling her things haphazardly together.

Harry handed the girl a few of her books, asking her, “Are you okay?”

Harry couldn’t help but notice a strange scent as he handed the girl the books. He felt an odd feeling of hunger in his stomach and his jaw suddenly felt sore as well.

The girl raised her head and looked back at him. The emblem on her robes indicated a Hufflepuff. She was a dark haired girl, quite young, possibly a third year, looked at Harry, her cheeks still red and trying not to look at his scar.

“Are you okay, “repeated Harry looking at a piece of parchment, “Andrea?”

She shook her head slightly, nervously staying quiet.

Hermione was going to dismiss this all as another girl meeting Harry up close and just laugh inwardly but Harry did something completely unexpected. He brushed the hair away… from his scar… smiling simply at the girl.

“I’m Harry,” he said.

The girl, Andrea, went white, snatched up the last of her things and ran off.

After some time the trio finally reached the Great Hall. They entered and were greeted much the same as had been in the previous corridors. Ron and Harry went down one side of the table and Hermione followed on the other side before sitting. Hermione could no longer contain herself.

“Harry, what is going on,” snapped Hermione in the loudest whisper she dared, her voice strained with a hint of anger?

Ron said nothing but served him and Harry porridge from a nearby pot amongst the breakfast choices. Hermione grabbed a few slices of toast as Harry drained a full goblet of pumpkin juice, giving a quick relieving sigh.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Harry answered plainly, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not blind,” snapped Hermione, whispering viciously, “You enjoyed all that.”

“All what,” asked Harry, confused by Hermione’s outburst?

In the meantime, Ron had gathered muffins from a nearby basket and was buttering them off to the side, a smirk evident on his face.

“You were trying to charm that girl, “pointed out Hermione, a slight viciousness to her tone.

“I didn’t use any magic,” responded Harry, still confused.

“I don’t mean charm as in magical, I mean …” she retorted but finished with a huff of frustration.

Harry stared at her in continued confusion, she wasn’t making any sense.

Hermione was ready to clear it up when a thought came to mind.

He won’t respond like other boys…

-Daken told me that the night before, -thought Hermione, -Harry doesn’t realize why that Andrea girl acted that way or even how he acted.-

“Careful, Hermione, one would think you were jealous or something,” chuckled Ron, speaking suddenly.

Harry gave his own huff of frustration,” Would somebody clue me in… since when is it wrong to be nice to those knocked down?”

In sudden haste, Hermione responded with, “Oh never mind.”

Ron thrust a buttered muffin into Harry’s hand.

“I can butter my own muffins,” Harry pointed out, implying no insult.

“Yeah well I had the butter here and the muffins, so I did it for you… too bad so eat it,” snapped Ron in a playful manner.

Harry shook his head smiling and took a bite out of the muffin. Ron watched Harry every second.

-Why is he acting so weird all of a sudden, - question Harry before asking, “What now?”

“Just thinking how weird it is that you aren’t even sore from all that yesterday,” answered Ron.

Harry sat there a second before adding, “Actually now that you mention it, my jaw is still sore like I have a couple of toothaches or something.”

Ron was about to speak, given that his expression had turned to something of worry but Harry interjected, “I’ll see the nurse again after class… okay... honestly Ron you’re acting like your mum, like there was something wrong with me.”

-If only you knew, -thought Ron before saying, “Well how do you feel then?”

“Like I said before… fine… just hungry… very hungry actually,” answered Harry, a bit of a growl in his voice.

Professor McGonagall called the attention of the students and as Hermione had said, announced that morning classes were canceled but afternoon classes would continue. Surprisingly not many students seemed happy about it, but one student did have something to express.

Harry had finished most of his breakfast and was preparing to refill his bowl with more porridge when there was a tap on his shoulder. Before turning he saw Hermione look up and her face go blank of emotion. Harry turned, as did Ron, to see a tall Ravenclaw girl known as Cho Chang standing there.

Harry stood up to see what she wanted. Ron kept quiet but his look was stern and inquiring. Hermione just stared at Cho.

“Hi Harry,” she said in an unexpected sweet tone.

“Hello,” replied Harry, normally.

“I went to the Hospital wing to see you… because I… because the nurse asked to have me looked over today so I thought I’d,” stuttered Cho hesitantly, her wide eyes staring at Harry, “I sound so stupid… I wanted to thank you for… well for yesterday.”

“Yesterday,” asked Harry?

“Well… my collar bone was broken… but that’s okay… it might have been something worse if you hadn’t… well if you hadn’t been so brave,” stutter Cho yet again, her voice oddly inviting.

Something in the way she was speaking suggested to Harry that Cho was trying to imply a message but what he didn’t understand.

“Well… you’re welcome Cho… but it wasn’t just me you know,” replied Harry, “Ron and the other players all fought to stop those Bludgers.”

Cho took a step closer, leaving the space between them very sparse.

“Yes… but you were the one that,” said Cho, lowing to a whisper, “Truly deserves to be thanked… you led the fight… you were the strong one.”

She leaned towards him, getting even closer and Harry became very uncomfortable by the closeness. Harry heard a gasp behind him as Cho continued to lean towards him, especially his face. A strange smell came to Harry’s senses and he felt a bit lighted headed while the soreness in his jaw suddenly became stronger.

Cho was now barely inches from Harry’s face as she continued with, “And I like those who are strong.”

She closed her eyes and Harry felt her breath touch his lips…

The strange smell was very strong now as her proximity grew…

A thought came to mind and on impulse Harry turned his head, closing his eyes…

In that moment, Harry felt something soft and warm press against his cheek. There came a sound and a rush of warm breath blow against his cheek.

Cho Chang had kissed Harry… but his sudden impulse had made it so her kiss was on the cheek.

Harry turned back to face Cho, her wide eyes still looking at him, an odd smile on her face and she looked strangely pleased.

Harry wasn’t sure what to say as he thought of how Fleur had done the same when her sister had been involved but Harry had not saved anyone for Cho, rather lost Cedric, a boy she seemed to have liked very much.

All Harry could do was stand there and blush. He let his eyes shifted from side to side for a second. Seeing as Lavender and Parvati were in deep whispers, giggling madly, as they eyed him. Boys in different places glared at him, while random girls sat white faced. Even saw as Cho shifted her stare behind Harry and looked back, her smile broadening.

“Come see me sometime Harry when you want to talk or… anything,” finished Cho, turning and walking away.

Harry sat back down at the table, feeling every pair of eyes near on him. Hermione held her head down, hiding her face and before Harry could say anything, she jumped up away from the table and nearly sprinting off.

All she would say before leaving was, “I need to go see Professor McGonagall.”

Harry stared after her, past the knowing grins of older students and confused looks of the younger ones.

“Why’d she leave like that,” asked Harry?

Ron shrugged his shoulders, not looking at Harry, answering, “A girl thing.”

Harry wanted to know what that was suppose to mean but didn’t get the chance as he felt himself go light headed again, even more so, and sagged in his seat. Ron grabbed Harry before falling back against the floor.

“You’re going back to the Hospital wing,” spoke Ron sternly.

In a surprising bit of strength, Ron pulled Harry from the seat, not able resist much as the world spun in his head. Harry wasn’t sure of the time that passed but somehow found him-self lying on a bed in the Hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was waving her wand over him and chanting something that Harry didn’t understand.

A familiar blonde woman stood by Ron while Harry was checked over.

“Maylen,” whispered Harry?

“That’s right,” answered Maylen cheerily, “I said we’d be seeing each other again… so the stories are true, you are always in here for something… breaking or losing bones… rescuing the school and all that.”

“Alright that does it,” stated Pomfrey with a huff, pocketing her wand roughly, “We’re getting blood this time.”

She stalked off towards her office, obviously upset.

“What does she mean ‘getting blood’ like that,” asked Harry quickly?

Ron shrugged his shoulders, not knowing the answer but Maylen gave a laugh.

“After all the blood you’ve lost getting hurt before you’re worried about giving some voluntarily,” laughed Maylen, “Don’t worry it’s a painless process… normally certain spells will reveal illnesses but sometimes you need to go deeper… basically take a sample of blood and test it.”

Madam Pomfrey returned with an odd looking jar with a funnel shaped like metal top. She touched the tip of it to Harry’s arm and felt a cold sensation. The jar began to fill with an oozing red liquid that Harry recognized to be blood… his own.

“All done Potter, “spoke Pomfrey, looking at the jar.

Harry started to climb off the bed when a hand gripped his shoulder, stopping him.

“And where do you think you are going,” asked Pomfrey?

“I have double Potions in the afternoon and,” replied Harry.

“You’re staying here,” interrupted Pomfrey fiercely.

Harry knew better than to argue with her but wondered why Ron had a satisfied look.

“You on the other hand,” continued Pomfrey looking at Ron “Are not staying... Maylen I’ll need your help with this.”

Ron stood, grinning at his friend and walked away.

“See you later,” said Maylen to Harry following Pomfrey to the office.

Harry sat alone in the Hospital wing now. He would have been satisfied with having no company… but his thoughts went back to the Great Hall and how Cho acted so oddly… and Hermione.

Looking around, Harry stood up and walked quietly towards the door, not realizing that yet again he made not a single sound. Hermione went to see Professor McGonagall, so he would too since he felt fine and despised being in the Hospital wing any further.

Harry walked along the quiet corridors, many of the students still in the Great Hall, back in their Houses or elsewhere he didn’t care to know. So many thoughts passed through his mind. Hermione and Cho acting differently… Ron was mothering him… Dobby seems to be afraid of him suddenly… Pomfrey wanted his blood now… the Bludgers… and why was he still hungry.

Having nearly ignored everything while dwelling on his thoughts, Harry found that he had reached the corridor of the Transfiguration class, McGonagall’s class. He approached the door to the class when it burst open and Hermione ran out, running in the other direction, away from Harry.

“Hermione,” said Harry but she had already turned the corner.

Harry started after her but thought differently passing an open window letting in the late morning breeze. Instead he turned and entered the Transfiguration class. Professor McGonagall sat at her desk, an expression of deep worry evident, as she marked parchments of student essays with her quill.

“Professor McGonagall, “spoke Harry, announcing his presence.

Harry couldn’t remember having ever seen the Professor startled but this time he did. McGonagall looked up and in the same instant, gripped her wand from the side of her desk.

“Harry,” she said quickly, “I mean… Mr. Potter… I didn’t hear you come in, what do you need?”

-Didn’t hear me, - thought Harry before replying.

Harry walked up to McGonagall’s desk, “I wanted to know what happened with Hermione.”

Harry noticed that McGonagall still held the wand and kept her eyes locked on him.

“That is between Ms. Granger and me,” answered McGonagall, “And not your concern.”

Hearing that, Harry felt something spark inside…

Hermione’s problems not his concern...

Not likely…

His friends were definitely his concern…

Harry slammed his hands down on McGonagall’s desk and the room went cold. His breathing deepened as anger began to surge through him.

“If Hermione has a problem than I have one,” Harry growled, deeper than normal, glaring at the teacher, “So don’t tell me it’s not my concern!”

The Professor leaned back in her chair, quite aware of the room changing in temperature, and watch Harry with as much calm as she could muster.

Harry could feel his anger as his eyes tingled and his skin prickled in a cold feeling. He felt an odd feeling from something on the desk and lifted his hand to see it. There lay a metal object, in the shape of the Hogwarts crest. A large letter P printed boldly on top of a Gryffindor symbol. It looked exactly like a badge Percy once wore, nearly three years ago.

A prefect’s badge…

The initials H and G on it... H and G for Hermione Granger.

The anger stopped instantly as Harry stared at the badge…

“Hermione is a prefect,” whispered Harry.

“She was,” replied McGonagall, correcting him.

Harry looked at his teacher in questioning thought.

McGonagall gave a sigh and explained, “I informed her on the first day after our meeting… Ms. Granger turned it down but I managed to convince her to try it for a while… however she arrived here earlier very upset about something… she wouldn’t tell me much but… a few things… then gave me the badge… and rushed out of here.”

Harry picked up the badge, holding it in his hand, peering closer.

-Hermione was upset in the Great Hall when Cho kissed me, - thought Harry, -But why?-

Harry remembered the encounter and then the scene with the Hufflepuff girl. A memory surfaced quickly of when Harry was with his Uncle at a department store and they passed a boy talking softly with a giggling, blushing girl. Uncle Vernon said something about being too friendly in public and Harry didn’t know what he had meant. Then remembered that Hermione had said he was trying to charm that Hufflepuff but it didn’t involve magic. He and Ron had observed that same department scene replayed a number of times last year before the Yule ball.

“This is my fault,” whispered Harry loudly in confusion, clasping his fingers around the badge.

“Not really… you are only part of it… something happened to Ms. Granger over the summer… and she won’t tell anyone,” comforted McGonagall, although speaking cautiously, “I’m sorry Mr. Potter but I can’t tell you anything… especially since I don’t know myself.”

Harry stood thinking, trying to add pieces of thoughts together.

“Now if you please, I need to select a new Prefect for Gryffindor, “said McGonagall with finality in her tone, looking back to her parchments.

Harry looked back at his Professor and her hinted instruction was not lost to him but rather disregarded. Harry’s grip on the badge tightened.

“No.”

Professor McGonagall raised her face and looked at Harry directly, asking, “No?”

“That’s right… no,” stated Harry the volume of his voice was raising and the sternness intensifying, “Hermione deserves to be a Prefect… she worked too hard for it… even helped me and Ron… I won’t let her give it up.”

With that said Harry turned and walked away, the prefect badge still in hand, leaving the classroom.

Professor McGonagall watched Harry leave without saying a word; she picked up the parchments and placed them in a drawer.

“He has the same determination as his mother I see,” said a kind voice behind McGonagall, “And like both of his parents, the same strong compassion… if not stronger.”

“Indeed,” replied McGonagall.

Harry walked alone through the corridor towards Gryffindor tower. He realized that he didn’t have a clue where Hermione might be. Harry had spent the rest of the morning, wandering the castle for where Hermione might be. The librarian, annoyed by Harry’s wanderings among the bookshelves, stated that Hermione had not come into the library since yesterday. Along the corridors and empty classrooms, he still couldn’t find her. Being that Hermione knew more than he dared to surmise, Harry’s guess was she might be in the girl’s dormitory or a location only she among few were privy too.

As Harry approached the Fat Lady, only a stair way away now, a door to the side opened and Lavender stepped out. She stared at Harry a second then looked around, apparently checking for anyone else.

“Harry can I talk to you for a minute,” asked Lavender softly, still shifting her eyes about, “Please it’s really important.”

Harry stared at her, knowing that Lavender was hardly one to want to be serious about much of anything.

As if she could sense Harry’s doubt, Lavender added, “It’s about Hermione, please.”

Harry said nothing but walked forward, passing Lavender into the side room and waiting to hear what she had to say. There was a click as the door closed, followed by Lavender adding a charm to seal the room. Harry suddenly started to feel a little strange.

Lavender took a few steps forward, holding her hands together nervously beginning with, “I’m worried about Hermione.”

“Really,” scoffed Harry, taking a seat on a dusty table a few feet away.

Lavender shifted her hips from side to side. She was obviously uncomfortable about something and she didn’t look to well either, a bit pale.

“Harry, you know it’s no secret that Hermione and I aren’t exactly friends,” began Lavender, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care at all about her.”

“Yeah,” responded Harry slowly, eyeing the girl, following every movement.

There was a scent in the air, growing stronger each moment and Harry couldn’t help but suddenly started to feel even hungrier.

“We’ve shared the same dormitory for the last four years and I’ve seen her… without… robes,” explained Lavender, her eyes averted, slightly paled face blushing all shades of red,” I don’t know what… you know about… girls… but Hermione has… has a… flattering appearance.”

The scent was very strong in Harry’s nose, an intoxicating scent feeling his lungs, so strong it was as if he could taste it. He could feel his stomach rumble in hunger. A faint drumming sound reached his ears and no matter how he tried, his eyes remained fixed on Lavender. The soreness in his jaw intensified to pain. Harry became unsettled by his body’s feelings and yet couldn’t stop the nagging desire to get close to Lavender… really close.

“And girls… having such an appearance… tend to show it off,” slowly continued Lavender, her behavior unchanged.

Harry could barely register what Lavender was saying, hearing but not focusing on it much. Lavender’s shifting body and this scent, apparently from her, was distracting him.

“Harry, are you listening to me,” asked Lavender, her voice sharp.

“So she doesn’t do what ever other girls normally tend do,” answered Harry quietly and automatically, his thoughts trailing elsewhere,” Since when has anyone considered Hermione normal?”

Lavender pondered a moment before she continued again, “That’s true… but Harry she’s enlarged her clothes… keeps her hair fluffed out, hiding her face… it’s like she doesn’t want anyone to see her.”

Harry stood up from the desk, slowly walking to one side of the room, trying to pay attention to Lavender and ignore his odd feelings, his jaw really hurting. The scent in the room was so strong now; Harry could feel his own skin burning.

Whispering loudly enough for her to hear him, trying to think, Harry replied,” So Hermione isn’t enthusiastic about her appearance right now, get to the point already.”

Lavender shook her head, clearly not happy to have to continue the conversation, “It’s not just the appearance… you’d have to have noticed the way she acting too… she doesn’t answer questions in class… I’ve barely see her in the library or even reading that much... and she always reads before going to bed.”

“What… are... you… saying,” stuttered Harry as best as he could through the pain in his jaw.

-Why the hell does she smell like that… like something sweet, - thought Harry, furiously?

“Even for a boy… you’re an idiot,” snapped Lavender,” Something happened to her, and it’s changed her somehow… Professor McGonagall can’t get anything out of Hermione but I think you can… the tarot cards certainly suggest that.”

Harry turned, his heart beating rapidly, nostrils flaring at the alluring scent, his jaw thriving in pain, stomach rumbling for sustenance, his body on fire and Lavender seemed to be the source of it all. Allowing instincts to direct, Harry slowly and silently approached Lavender, whom seemed furious at Harry’s inability to understand her plight.

He was within a few feet of her and Lavender suddenly realized just how close Harry was getting, a realization sparking feelings that caused her to back away, towards the door, reaching for the handle and turning it to open; only it wouldn’t, since it had been sealed not to.

Harry closed in on Lavender.

”Harry, what are you doing,” asked Lavender, voice breaking as fear grew.

Elsewhere…

“Damn,” shouted Ron, “Where is he!”

Ron had gone back to the hospital wing before lunch started to sneak a visit with Harry, knowing how much his friend disliked being there. However, found his friend gone and the nurses clueless to his whereabouts.

Ron had moved as quickly as he could through the corridors, checking various places and hideouts they had used to no avail.

-If Malleck has gotten to him, I swear- thought Ron before he was distracted.

“Looking for Potter,” sneered a cold familiar voice,” I might be able to point you in the right direction.”

“You,” snapped Ron angrily, turning around.

Lavender tried continuously to turn the knob on the door, but it wouldn’t turn. Harry was glaring maliciously and it didn’t help that her insides had gone cold. Harry wouldn’t answer, just stared and continued to approach.

Harry stood inches from her, his breath drawn deep and released in a low animal like growl. Lavender panicked and raised her wand. Before she could say a spell, Harry knocked it away with a quick back hand. Lavender watched as the wand landed on the far side of the room, far from reach and Harry only a breath away.

There Lavender was in front of Harry standing almost frozen, shaking slightly, no one knew she was there or that Harry was nearly upon her. In his tense state, Harry squeezed his hands, resisting the impulses that directed him.

Harry felt ready to do as his body wanted…

However there was an unbelieving sharp pain in the palm of his tightly clasped hand. Looking down, blood pooled lightly in his hand, around a metal object… the Prefect badge…Hermione’s badge.

Thinking of Hermione, Harry’s overwhelming urges vanished except for disorientation. He glanced back at Lavender.

“Finite Incantum,” he whispered.

A quick buzzing sound filled the room then faded, indicating the sealing spell was reversed.

“Go,” whispered Harry, still looking at the badge.

Lavender opened the door and ran out.

Harry heard a thud outside the door and walked out as well. He found Ron standing over Lavender. Disorientation still strong with him, Harry staggered his way towards Ron as he knelt by Lavender.

“What… happened?” muttered Harry, looking down at Lavender.

“She’s out cold,” replied Ron, “She ran into me.”

Harry sank to his knees, his jaw still hurting, the spinning replaced with a headache. He watched as Ron pulled back the robes and blouse around Lavender’s neck.

“What are you doing,” said Harry, surprised at Ron?

Ron looked at Harry, his face red, thoughts passing in his mind from the worried expression on his face.

“What he has to… to keep you safe,” spoke a voice behind them.

Turning, the boys saw Daken walking towards them, his wand drawn. Daken looked directly at Ron, who turn simply shook his head in a fashion of a no to whatever Daken was silently asking.

“This is a bad scene right now,” stated Daken,” You two need to leave.”

He raised his wand and brought forth a stretcher, levitating Lavender onto it.

“Go to your potions class” ordered Daken, looking at their questioning faces, “I will take Lavender to the Hospital wing… she’s just knocked out, she’ll be fine... now go.”

Harry stood up as best as he could and began to walk away, Ron followed, as they walked pass Lavender and Daken. From behind Harry heard a quick whisper between Daken and Ron.

“I thought you going to give him the potion?”

“I did… a full vial at breakfast.”

“Then there’s something wrong here.”

Harry continued on as if hearing nothing. It wasn’t easy, his jaw still hurt and the headache wasn’t making it any better. Ron caught up to Harry and walked beside him.

Harry turned, stopping, and looked at Ron. His friend knew what was going on and Harry wanted answers.

“What is going on “snapped Harry, “You wouldn’t believe what I wanted to do to Lavender a minute ago?”

“Actually,” answered Ron, “I know very well what nearly happened.”

“Really,” replied Harry, his anger returning, hands clasping, “And what was it I was going to do?”

Ron looked at his friend, giving a sigh of surrender, stating, “I’ll tell you everything… just not here… in the classroom… okay.”

“Fine,” agreed Harry.

Lunch had begun in the Great Hall but regardless of his hunger, Harry wanted answers. His headache still pounding, jaw sore, Harry walked with Ron to their potions classroom in the dungeon. Through the corridors and into the bowels of the castle, heading for the dungeons, they walked on, not saying a word to each other.

They reached the door to Snape’s potion class.

“Wonder if Snape’s in there already,” stated Harry, his frustrated anger evident?

“It doesn’t matter,” replied Ron quietly, “He already knows about this.”

“So as usual,” snapped Harry, glaring at Ron, his head pounding more, “Everyone knows all about me and I know nothing.”

Ron looked at his friend for a second, saying nothing then pulled the handle opening the dungeon door. As they walked in Harry was ready to say whatever he had to Snape and find out what Ron was hiding.

Unfortunately the scene that greeted them was not what was expected and the answers Harry sought would have to wait.

Snape wasn’t in the room but two others were… Cho Chang and… Hermione Granger.

Snape’s desk had been violently relocated on the other side of the room, obviously with magic.

Cho stood next to a boiling cauldron, a purple potion bubbling away, stirring it.

Hermione stood where Snape’s desk should have been. Her leg was chained to the wall and both hands were shackled together in manacles. She couldn’t speak, though her lips moved no sound could be heard, not even air.

A light buzzing sound was apparent in the room and with a quick look around, the two boys saw four small orbs, each glowing in a dull grey color, in each corner of the room.

“HI Harry,” greeted Cho in a surprisingly sweet voice, “You know you have a very interesting habit of showing up in the middle of things… my own fault I guess… I said you could come and see anytime… guess I hadn’t figured you’d want my… attention so soon… oh well… you’ll be first for the show.”

Harry gave a frustrated sigh.

Ron said an explicative and finished with, “Great… the Second Challenge.”

Next Chapter

Bleeding Hearts

15. Bleeding Hearts

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: Thank you once again for your wonderful reviews. This chapter I’m not too worried about as it opens the story to the next phase reminding the readers of things mentioned before and lead to their solution.

If you have questions you just HAVE to ask or would like to give me a more in depth review (of which I encourage) you can send/e-mail them to itmonster@hotmail.com. It’s the e-mail I use for my fan fictions, so it’s cool.

Revised 4/21/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 15

Bleeding Hearts

Ron raised his wand, surprising Harry having not seen him withdraw it.

Staring at Ron with a wide eyed gaze, her voice humored, Cho asked, “Let me guess… always keep your wand ready?”

“Stupefy,” shouted Ron!

A small spark was all Ron’s wand released.

Cho giggled loudly…

Ron looked back at Harry, concern evident along with the confusion as he lowered the wand and Harry reached for his own, noticing an alluring smell in the room over the bubbling potion in the cauldron

“Silly boys,” said Cho, continuing to giggle and stir the cauldron, “I would have thought one of you would have been astute enough to notice the talismans here… just like the ones in Daken’s class… the kind that prevent wand use?”

Harry left his wand in his robes closing his eyes, his body beginning to shake as Ron pocketed his.

“Fine, no magic,” stated Ron simply, “We still out number you two to one.”

“Are you sure about that,” replied Cho, smiling, turning her wide eyed look and nodding to Harry.

Ron turned his head to see Harry shaking, eyes closed tight, breathing hard and rapid.

“This potion has special effects on boys when a girl wears it as a perfume… however on those like Harry’s kind, it has much stronger results,” continued Cho, “Maybe Rela might want to try some… hmm?”

“How do you know about,” began Ron, anger evident?

“Ravenclaw girls talk Ron, just like any other… you’ve come up once or twice,” answered Cho interrupting.

Ron walked quickly forward, his hands flexing to fists and back, straight towards Cho.

Cho gave off a cackling laugh and stepping quickly away from the cauldron to the other side of the room as Ron approached.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to take it from me by force, “spoke Cho with her wide eyed look, still giggling, “I’m sure Rela would just love some of it.”

“How about if I just toss all out,” snapped Ron, viciously.

Cho just stood where she was smiling, glancing at Harry.

Ron was about to grab the boiling cauldron and tip its contents over on to the floor to ruin it when something hit his head. Looking down he saw a black shoe lying on the floor. Ron looked towards Hermione to see her moving her shackled arms around in a circle. She was trying to tell him something but didn’t get it.

Cho laughed again and Ron felt him-self become angrier.

-That tramp’s laugh is really starting to, - thought Ron with a few other negative things.

“Hermione really is the brains of your little group, isn’t she?” giggly sneered Cho, “Otherwise after four years in potion classes you know that some potions have to be continually stirred while their hot until cooled down or… they have… explosive results.”

Now Ron understood this was one of the potions that went unstable if not watched and some potions when they exploded could take out a whole room or building and even more. Considering that the cauldron was beginning to shake on the stand, this was definitely one of them but how powerful a blast he didn’t know. So Ron grabbed the ladle and began stirring.

Cho smiled triumphantly while Ron was trapped stirring and Harry stood in place shaking more and more.

“You think I didn’t expect you,” sneered Cho, “I told you Ravenclaw girls talk too… and I found out from Rela how you wouldn’t leave Harry’s side easily… now that you’re… busy… I can finish things with Harry.”

Harry was still shaking; skin on fire again only deeper now, the pain in his jaw indescribable. That same scent in the room overwhelming his senses, now his lungs burned at the smell. His mind was blank of most thought but he could still hear things. The exchange between Ron and Cho had let him focus a little but not much.

“Harry!”

Harry heard his name yelled.

“Get one of the Professors!”

Harry heard Ron’s shout.

Focusing his mind as best as possible; Harry turned around slowly back to the door.

“Oh… but he’ll miss the show,” whined Cho in a fake manor.

“What damn show,” shouted Ron, still stirring, anger dripping from his words?

The fire under the cauldron flared out, burning more of the metal surface.

Cho smiled wickedly before answering, “I believe muggles call it Adult education… lunch is almost over… and like good Prefects, we can’t pass up an opportunity to… educate… so Hermione is going to demonstrate… a little something for the boys in this class... a perfect use for a girl like her.”

Hearing Hermione’s name Harry found the ability to further focus his thoughts and turned back, facing Cho.

A low growl in his voice again, still shaking, Harry stuttered, “What… kind… of… demonstration?”

As if on cue, Cho slowly reached underneath her blouse making sure that he could see as she withdrew a vial of rusty brown liquid, gave it a quick look over and tossed it towards Hermione. The vial smashed on the stone floor between the feet of Cho’s captive. There came a hissing sound as the contents turned to white smoke, floating up and around Hermione. Nothing seemed to happen as Hermione stood there looking at the floor.

“You missed,” sneered Ron.

“Did I,” asked Cho in return, her head titled, still smiling.

Harry watched Hermione waiting for something but his friend seemed to still be okay.

“I didn’t say I was going to hurt her, “explained Cho, an edge of humor to her voice, “It’s just a cleaning potion... you know… for getting dried potions off of jars or cleaning tools… Professor Snape has lots of it; we’ve all used it before.”

“What the… hell kind… of joke… is this,” growled Harry, his jaw hurting too much to talk normally.

Cho stared her wide eyes at Harry, a devilishly wicked grin in place, replying fiendishly, “It works as a liquid or as vapor… and you should see how it works on clothes... oh that’s right… you will.”

There was a sound of glass breaking, as Harry looked back to Hermione. Her watch fell, smashing on the stone, as the cloth band on her wrist disintegrated. The sole of her remaining shoe began to vanish away. Holes appeared in Hermione’s school robes and skirt, widening with every second. The buttons of her blouse followed the pattern by falling off.

Terror filled in Hermione’s eyes as she screamed silently.

“Unless Hermione’s wearing metal knickers,” chuckled Cho, “In a few minutes, she won’t be wearing anything except her own skin.”

Harry walked forward as best as he could, not sure what to would do but had to try something.

Cho moved instantly, standing between Harry and his destination. Her close proximity caused Harry’s body to react even more. Harry placed his empty hand on his head, gripping his forehead, fighting the urging impulses. His nails dug into the scalp while his body went crazy. His jaw sharp with pain like knives puncturing through his gums while his skin and body so hot with fiery heat like being boiled. His mind would allow only one thought to focus on… to fulfill the hunger… to drink.

“Harry, don’t fight it,” came a comforting voice from Cho.

A hand touch lightly to his neck….

The light touch caused Harry’s muscles to tense tightly and felt a small object in his other hand.

Another hand came to rest on his chest as Cho spoke again, “Let me fulfill your needs as an older girl can.”

Harry could still feel the unknown object in hand but couldn’t think on it as Cho’s implying words cut through his crumbling resistance easily.

Harry opened his eyes and Cho could see the incredible green offset by a small amount of silver. Cho pressed herself against him, her sweet smelling breath filling his face. Cho’s lips brush close to his own and her tongue touch the tip of his nose, flirting with him… inviting him.

“Kiss me,” whispered Cho,” Make me yours as you become mine… my champion… my prize.”

Harry began to lean towards her, his body urging itself on.

“Be my trophy,” finished Cho.

Harry felt his mind twist, closing his eyes as momentary memories flashed.

Green light…

A woman screaming…

The Dursleys’ laughing…

The first time meeting Hagrid…

The Sorting Hat…

The Queen Chess piece…

Quirrel crumbling…

The petrified people…

The Basilisk…

Tom Riddle…

Wormtail…

Cedric…

The dragons…

The Lake…

The maze…

The trophy…

Green light…

The trophy…

Harry stopped shaking… the pain in his jaw diminishing rapidly… the boiling fire in his body… vanished… his mind focused completely… and opened his eyes.

All three could see… the green offset by silver… the quick streaks of red electricity flash across the veins of his eyes like bolts of lightening.

The room went ice cold…

All four talismans cracked and shattered…

The roaring fire vanished and the cauldron itself went cold, the potion no longer bubbling but thickening almost instantly into an oozing sludge.

In a swift motion Harry lowered the hand from his head and gripped Cho’s throat, squeezing tightly, stopping her breath. Cho pulled back her hands wrapping them around Harry’s arm, pulling at it as small gasps escaped.

In a voice Ron and Hermione had never heard, almost a complete hissing growl, the volume escalating, Harry said, “I am no one’s prize… no one’s trophy… you are nothing to me… I don’t settle for that.”

Harry looked past Cho to Hermione and finished with, “I want… greater.”

Harry tightened his grip and with amazing strength lifted Cho a few inches from the floor. He smirked slightly and as if Cho weighed nothing, flung her to the side. Cho was powerless to do anything as she slammed into the stone wall with a hard thud, falling to the floor knocked out.

All of Harry’s attention was now focused on Hermione…

He walked to her as she was trying to pull the, now ragged, robes closer around herself, barely succeeding. Standing only inches away, Harry could see, her clothes almost gone, a small strap looped over her shoulder. Much of her front and legs exposed. Harry raised his clasped hand to reach to her. As he opened his fingers there was a small object in his palm, pooled in dried blood. He stared, starting to recognize it.

Hermione looked at Harry as his eyes flashing while looking at his hand. The explanation for Ron’s behavior came as she looked at Harry’s mouth and saw the four fangs that loomed there. Only one creature she realized had fangs like that while in human form.

-Daken is a vampire, - she thought suddenly, - They infused Harry with vampire blood.-

Recognizing the badge, Harry realized why he had it and remembered what was going on. He looked to Hermione, seeing the many horrid emotions including fear in her eyes and found him-self struck hard by that somehow. He lowered the hand bearing the badge and with his other gripped the manacles that held her. A spark flashed, lighting his hand and Hermione’s shackles broke off both from her hands and leg.

He slipped his wizard robes off.

“Engorgio “said Harry and the robes enlarged as he wrapped it around Hermione.

Harry backed up a few steps saying, “The office.”

Hermione walked by Harry slowly. Ron stood stunned by the whole event. The door to the office shut as the entrance to the class burst open and people entered.

Daken, Snape, McGonagall, Pomfrey and Dumbledore had arrived, yet again too late.

“My class “shouted Snape!

“Office… Hermione,” stated Harry his voice still the same.

McGonagall and Pomfrey rushed away, entering Snape’s office, announcing them-selves.

“Made a mess of things again… eh Potter,” said Daken chuckling.

Daken learned that was a very bad time to imply humor as Harry turned and without saying a word, a blast sounded, leaving Daken to slam hard in to the wall.

Harry walked towards him demanding, “What… did you… do to me?”

Disorientated and unable to answer, Daken sat on the floor, his eyes barely open.

“That’s enough Potter,” ordered Snape.

“Severus… NO,” shouted Dumbledore!

“Petrificus Totalus, “shouted Snape ignoring the Headmaster!

It was done, the spell hit and Harry froze in place.

“Potter will not be any more trouble,” said Snape sneering with a smirk turning to the Headmaster.

“Try again,” said a voice that shouldn’t be able to.

Snape turned back and all those present in the room watched as Harry began to move again, cracking sounds like breaking glass were heard from his joints moving, turning towards Snape. Harry’s eyes flashing with more red streaks of lightning.

Ron felt the hair on his neck begin to begin to stand on end, which meant that only one thing would soon happen.

Snape pointed his wand but nothing happened, and Harry took a step forward…

Fortunately for Snape, there was a loud smacking sound and a body hit the floor… Harry’s body… as Ron stood by him… having punched his friend, knocking him out cold.

“Thank you Ronald,” spoke Dumbledore.

“Don’t thank me until he wakes up,” replied Ron stunned by his own actions.

Harry awoke to a place where everything was dark except for a bit of light from an unseen source. Harry felt the graveled path as moved beneath his feet in the numbing cold around him, trying to avoid the slimy stoned walls of maze. The putrid fog burned his lungs as it enshrouded a creature in the darkness that Harry had met before as it stared at him with its blood red eyes.

Been a while

“Damn,” said Harry as he stood in the cold darkness.

Were you actually trying to avoid me?

“I gave it a go,” snapped Harry.

Why?

The creature laughed as it asked.

“Bit obvious,” snapped Harry again, “Why do you keep bringing me here?”

Its harsh laugh came again.

Quite the fool or else you would remember that I said that being here is something you do to yourself… I am already trapped… also by you… for now.

“Who are you,” yelled Harry?

The creature said nothing but looked at Harry, examining him, thinking.

Harry decided he had taken enough and it was time to see this thing. Though the cold still numbed his body as always and seeing was near impossible, Harry walked towards the creature.

Unfortunately like always, the nightmare held a new element again.

A small object came into view, long and narrow, black as the night that engulfed the moonlight.

A wand pointed at him… just like Harry’s… or possibly his very own.

Harry stopped and froze, awaiting a spell.

The answer is yes, this is the wand you seek… I have it, the key to this maze.

Remembering that this is a dream, Harry walked on.

Even here, magic will still deliver pain.

Spoke the creature as a wave of dark red light left the wand, knocking Harry to the ground.

Harry felt is whole body writhe in burning agony as his muscles tensed and contracted tight, scrunching him-self into a ball on the graveled ground.

Did that hurt? I did warn you… well… not really.

The pain surged through his body like being boiled alive. He could barely breathe but fought to hang on with whatever strength he had. If anything the pain stopped the cold and at least felt alive.

As the creature spoke again its voiced sounded strained maybe even pained.

I said before I don’t want to fight you… rather join with you.

“Why,” whispered Harry, his mouth sting as tried to speak?

I told you before...

With me all will be unleashed, your power and mine. I will help you to be free of all barriers and from you I get freedom.

I will guide you to gain all…

Every desire…

Whether it be of Earth… or otherwise?

Do you have any idea how much power there is waiting to be unleashed within our vessel?

More of the pain had passed and Harry found it possible to move as the creature continued as Harry began to sit up, its own voice easing from some strange strain.

Together we will make all even our enemies cower in loyalty or be obliterated in conquest.

Look at what would await you…

The was a bright red flash and as pain faded, the creature’s voice eased more as well, Harry could see a pane of clear glass in front of him.

See what awaits our united power…

Images of Ron appeared writhed in flames. Harry saw scenes of the past appear of times when Ron aided Harry.

The time when Ron convinced Harry to play Quidditch… when surrendered himself to the Queen for entrance to the stone… when he appeared outside the window with a flying car… when he drank the potion to be a Slytherin… when he stood against that he feared the most… when he followed with a useless wand to face a monster… when he stood by Harry among the harsh rumors and accusations… when he was injured severely standing against the traitor of the Potter family… when he lay lifeless in the mer-people village… when even the first day of the term, Ron stood with him through everything always willing to help him.

That boy contains great power and he is as loyal to you as a dog. And like such a pathetic creature, he protects you with all his burning might and will die in such an endeavor for you.

The voice spoke its description of Ron’s friendship as a sneered insult of him to Harry.

Even these two…

The glass showed a dance of images.

Water splashed around the scene of a figure moving in the dark shadowed corridors of Hogwarts at night. A boy with a need… a hunger… as his eyes glowed silver in the dark. Opening a vial of strange liquid, a yellow color like old butter, drinking its contents and choking like it was poison.

The water vanished and a whistling took its place like wild winds in a storm as a faded image of a blond girl came next. In the blurred image she was feeding a bird that appeared to be a hawk. She turned and on the blurred face was only one clear spot of two eyes the color of grayed white.

Even they have power to add that can be commanded…

And of course we cannot forget this one…

What came next struck Harry in a cored area of him-self he never knew as vines wrapped around the glass budding with flowers binding them to the glass. Hermione’s image appeared… her eyes sadden… as she looked at someone behind her in a classroom. Scenes of the past played again as did with Ron. Moments when she smiled at him… moments when she warned him of dangers… moments when she encourage him not to believe the horrible things said of him… moments when she steered him from fighting… moments when she was there during his pain… moments when she awaited his recoveries.

Harry realized that Hermione really cared for him and he felt surprisingly delighted by thought.

I said before that with us together you can have… her… in many ways.

“What do you mean by that,” snapped Harry as Hermione’s image faded with the vines and flowers?

She isn’t what I would choose but she has power as well that would be beneficial.

You are the one that desires her even though you don’t realize it.

I just want her power.

The way the creature was talking was sparking something Harry had felt before, his anger. The numbing cold had begun to set in again but the sparking anger was warming him. Hearing it describe Ron as some dispensable thing and Hermione as something to be used. Harry found the strength suddenly to stand, feeling himself again.

Getting angry are we?

Fighting me is as useless as me fighting you.

Eventually you will join with me,

You’re only getting angry because I just simply speak the truth and you may find that I could be the only one who is.

Harry turned, enough was enough for him.

It laughed, unthreatened.

Do yourself a favor, think what hunts human girls for their blood and then you’ll know what was done to you… I really did enjoy it.

Harry felt his anger grow but the dark world began to fade.

I’ll prove I’m the only one you can truly trust… since you’ll awaken and find yourself alone.

“You’re nothing,” yelled Harry opening his eyes!

Looking around in blurred vision with not having his glasses on, Harry found himself setting up in a bed in the hospital wing. Unfortunately as the creature had said there was no one there. Harry was alone in the hospital wing.

Within a few moments, Harry felt the muscles in his back go sore and let him-self lay down. Letting consciousness make him aware, Harry discovered that his whole body ached badly. So he decided to just lay there… alone.

So he thought as the curtain moved from a bit of smoke that rose up next to it fading.

Elsewhere…

“Welcome,” greeted Dumbledore, “Poppy, have you completed your investigations?”

“As best as I can,” answered Madam Pomfrey.

Dumbledore sat at his desk as everyone had gathered into his office. Snape stood by the fireplace gazing at the flames. McGonagall sat near Dumbledore’s desk her lips pursed tightly, holding her hands together. Daken sat on the window sill, a tall glass in hand filled with yellowish liquid.

“And what did you discover,” continued Dumbledore?

“Of the girls, nothing much,” replied Pomfrey, “Each has little in common… each from a different house… each different in age… I found none of the potion on two of them.”

“They do have something in common, “answered Daken, “Andrea had to see you the day before… poor girl… having something like that start here for the first time ... just as Lavender and Cho were experiencing that day… quite personal I believe.”

“Well I never,” snapped Pomfrey, quite angrily, glaring at Daken, “How dare you privy yourself to the personal lives of students that entrust me with intimate information. The ministry…”

“Vampires are attracted to the smell of blood, Poppy,” interrupted Dumbledore, giving a sharp look to Daken, “He can do little about knowing such things as it is basic instinct… no different an instinct as any of us needing to breathe.”

“I do apologize, “spoke Daken, sincerely, “I am well aware of the need for certain things to be kept personally known.”

Pomfrey said nothing but gave an accepting nod, still unsettle by Daken’s knowledge of her patients.

“And what of Potter,” spoke Snape, his voice sharp, changing the subject?

“Harry is in for a rough time,” said Pomfrey, “The influence of the infusion effects has faded these past few days… he did have a serious fever, boiling hot almost yesterday but after everything these past few weeks, his body is exhausted… and now I know why.”

Pomfrey pulled a vial from her apron, an eerie green glow emanated around it.

“What is it,” asked McGonagall?

“Poison,” stated Pomfrey.

Daken gave a chuckle.

“What is so funny about poisoning,” snapped McGonagall, angrily.

Daken turned, looking to the professor and answered, “Because it answers why there are so many growing pumpkins in the unused greenhouse of the Herbiology class.”

McGonagall stood up abruptly, her eyes beginning to glare, “I am tiring of your ridiculous involvements and associations with my students. I nearly lost one student to your dangerous nature and nearly lost another because of it. So help me if I have to.”

Dumbledore interrupted with a soothing voice, “Please Minerva… Daken is right… it does explain things… the pumpkins is one thing among others... and Daken do show a little more tact in your responses if you please… the students may only be just that to you but for some of us… it is as if they are our own children.”

Daken said nothing and McGonagall sat down.

“Yes Poppy this substance would and should be considered poison as the ministry would deem it only it was never meant as that nor does it have those effects,” explained Dumbledore, “It seems that mixing it with pumpkin juice nullifies its bad taste.”

“What is it Albus,” asked McGonagall, apprehensively?

Dumbledore grinned, and answered, “I believe the name is… a pudding called Bulanu.”

Everyone stared at the headmaster.

“Bulanu,” spoke Snape, pushing his greasy hair back, “That’s a pudding elves feed their young.”

Dumbledore nodded his head.

“Why would Malleck want to poison Harry with that,” asked McGonagall, confused, “There other things more potent and less noticeable?”

Daken laughed again and quickly changed it to a clearing of the throat noise as the McGonagall glared at him again.

“Sorry… but it is comical in its innocence,” replied Daken, explaining, “Our dear little elf friend Dobby has been growing pumpkins in the unused green house for some time now... at first I thought it was just his way of being subservient to Harry… but now… Ron told me that Harry ate very little any more and only seemed to want to drink pumpkin juice.”

“I fail to see the humor,” spoke McGonagall plainly.

“Well Bulanu has the effect of energizing the body of a human that consumes it… and over time using it a lot develops a habit… Harry feels he only needs to quench his thirst while actually his body is consuming more Bulanu hidden in the juice that Potter gets directly from Dobby made in the green house… its humorous because the elf is once again, inadvertently of course, hurting Harry to help him.”

“I see,” spoke McGonagall plainly.

“There is another trait to this pudding that puts the grin on my lips,” spoke Dumbledore suddenly.

“What is that,” asked Pomfrey?

“Bulanu is made for and by elves as said,” answered Dumbledore, “Because of that it has reactive effects to the potions we use as humans… basically it cancels them out… hence why your potions weren’t healing Harry after his Quidditch match.”

“He drank pumpkin juice before Ron gave him the vial to suppress the vampire transition effects,” spoke Daken more to himself than the group, “That means that all day, Harry didn’t have any aid from the suppressant… he was in full vampire status.”

“Yes…and amazingly enough he resisted even when in the same room alone with Lavender,” said Dumbledore eyeing Daken.

“You didn’t tell me about that… you said she had fallen,” snapped Pomfrey.

“Must have slipped my mind,” answered Daken keeping his gaze locked with Dumbledore.

“Remember what I have said to you before… as to who is a Professor here and who is not,” stated Dumbledore, “I will not tolerate those overstepping their area of freedoms too often.”

“Yes Headmaster,” replied Daken stiffly.

Their odd exchange did not go unnoticed by those in the room as an awkward silence followed.

“I’m still quite impressed and even somewhat terrified that Potter resisted all the vampire instinctive urges without the suppressant… Draco has a lot of trouble with it all and he is using the suppressant,” spoke Daken quietly turning his gaze away from Dumbledore, “And Cho was brewing the same potion as Loralie did.”

“Loralie”asked McGonagall suddenly, “The same one as before?”

“Yes… the love potion that caused all the boys in this school to fall under her spell some twenty years ago… the same witch that was defeated by four boys with a resistance... that very potion that magnifies the urges of a vampire ten-fold… I believe that was the day the Marauders went from mere pranksters and rule breakers to secret heroes, “answered Daken,” I just wonder how Cho knew of it.”

“Malleck is bringing the past to the present, apparently,” answered Dumbledore

“If this keeps going on the wrecking of my class will only be a scratch as to what will follow,” said Snape sharply, his eyes gazing furiously at the fire.

“Indeed,” spoke Dumbledore.

“I must get back to the Hospital wing,” said Pomfrey getting up.

“That reminds… how is Hermione?” asked Daken, “Ron has been getting edgy having not seen Harry these few days.”

McGonagall gave a weary and sadden sigh, “She worse now… having nearly been used like that has driven her further away… her other professors say she hasn’t turned in anything since then and her ability to use magic is suffering... I don’t know how long before we can’t ignore it… its unfair to the other students as they are noticing… I don’t want to do anything that’ll compromise her further.”

“As you know, she is hurting… she’s been wounded by something… leave her other professors to me to speak with… we will give her the time she needs… we are teachers as much as parents… I do nothing… invasive… of our students but believe me… the answer lies in Potter’s compassion… and more… for her,” responded Dumbledore strongly, surprising McGonagall, “As you well know Minerva… sometimes a good cry is the only way to begin healing or dealing with the pain… and sometimes one must be forced to let themselves break down before that can happen.”

“Given Potter’s wish to aid his friends regardless of the consequences… just like his arrogant father… he’ll do something about it,” snapped Snape leaving the office but before stepping out the door he softly added, “And like his mother.”

“But things won’t be good between him and Ron either. I can do something in that area “spoke Daken solemnly, before asking, “I am curious to know one thing, Headmaster… concerning the girl?’

“And that would be,” responded Dumbledore, standing?

“I lied to her about knowing what happened… I knew it had been in Bulgaria given her untimely return and Ron’s odd answers about it… but you do know it was something with Victor,” answered Daken.

“What are you asking,” asked Dumbledore?

“Why did you invite Durmstrang to Hogwarts for a Quidditch match, if Victor Krum will show up as part of the charity benefit of the match… considering Hermione,” finished Daken?

To his surprise, McGonagall held the answer, “Because she has to face it… or be crippled by it.”

Daken gave a sigh shifting his eyes from McGonagall to Dumbledore and then left as well leaving her and the Headmaster alone in the office.

“It seems we have a lot of them,” stated Dumbledore oddly, placing the vial from Pomfrey in one of the many cabinets behind him.

“A lot of what, Albus,” asked McGonagall?

Dumbledore turned back with a gentle smile and answered, “Bleeding Hearts.”

Next Chapter

The Past Unveils

16. The Past Unveils

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: Please note I have not done a COMPLETE grammar check. I worked like mad to get all my clues and sectional pieces tied together that I had to take a breather even though I wanted to post it.

If you have questions you just HAVE to ask or would like to give me a more in depth review (of which I encourage) you can send/e-mail them to itmonster@hotmail.com. It’s the e-mail I use for my fan fictions, so it’s cool.

Revised 5/11/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 16

The Past Unveils

Hermione sat at a table, tapping her quill on the parchment in front of her, staring at her Arithmacy book. She had returned from Hogsmeade early, it just wasn’t the same. Ron had vanished off with someone and all Hermione had seen was a bit of blonde hair. Hermione had gone to a few book shops but she couldn’t find the thrill she normally had as her mind stayed thinking about one thing. She would rather have been alone but a group of girls decided to sit at the same table and endlessly drone on about different boys.

So in the library, she continued to stare at her book knowing she should finish the assignment considering the bare few she had been turning in but couldn’t focus and the giggling fools across from her didn’t help. It had been three days since the fight in the potions class and Hermione couldn’t stop thinking about how Harry had looked at her. His eyes flashing with red streaks of energy, like lightening in his eyes. The vampire hunger evident his face, his fanged teeth glistening with saliva as Harry approached her.

-I wasn’t anyone to him… just a piece of meat... to be used, - thought Hermione to herself, feeling her eyes water, -Just like Krum said… just one use for someone like me… Harry would never.-

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone with a definite figure sat down next to her. Blinking suddenly, she felt her eyes clear and looked up to see Maylen looking back at her. The other girls stop talking; a few had glares while others looked on in awe.

“Chatting about boys are we ladies,” spoke Maylen, a note of humor?

One of the girls in the group answered her and Maylen laughed.

“I have a bit of experience in that area, myself you know,” said Maylen giving sigh along with a chuckle,” The things I could tell you… but I shouldn’t.”

“Please do,” said one of the girls.

Hermione gave a bored sigh as she stared at her book again.

“Believe me when I say that boys are generally stupid and they always will be… they don’t have a clue about anything and are completely helpless about anything to do with us,” began Maylen, “ I’m sure by now most of you here have already figured it out… well I’m just restating it to say they don’t get any better.”

The girls of the giggling group looked at Maylen with questions clear.

“Use it as a sign,” continued Maylen, “The dumber and more foolish they act, the more clear it is of their feelings.”

Now the group’s attention focused on her.

“Like I said boys don’t have a clue… they don’t realize that the best thing to do is just walk up and say what they feel to you… preferably without vomiting in nervousness,” laughed Maylen.

The girls exchanged looks of minute disgust and didn’t voice it as Maylen looked to Hermione for a second. She knew that, although the girl stared at her book, she was listening to every word seeing as Hermione’s eyes would look towards Maylen from moment to moment.

“The same is true in reverse… forget that old stuff about chivalry and old ways of courtship… if there’s a boy you like… take the risk and say something… don’t leave it to him… remember there all idiots,” spoke Maylen her tone less humorous,“ Don’t make the mistakes I made.”

Now the girls were even more interested and Hermione still stared at her book.

Maylen took a deep breath and then, her tone completely dry and serious, she explained, “Years ago… I met a boy… rather young man… who knew all the right words… he wasn’t the one I truly… felt something for… but he knew how to woo a girl… dancing… dinners… romantic walks and gifts… and I never saw it.”

“He sounds perfect,” said one the girls suddenly.

Maylen looked at them hard, crossing her arms over her large front, responding, “That’s just it… he seemed perfect… because he wasn’t nervous… because he really didn’t care… he had something for a goal and my heart was not it.”

The girls stared at her in wonder.

Maylen spoke again,” A boy who really… cares… will be nervous most of the time… they don’t know what to do and they’re nervous about making you mad… that’s the difference… someone smooth like mine was wants nothing of your heart or anything everlasting… those kind only have short term goals… conquests.”

One of the girls nervously asked, “What did he do?”

Maylen took another deep breath and answered,” Part of it was… what you can easily see of me and the other was the research of a wizard I knew and was close with… after a bad incident happened, I went with him… spent a while with him… before I found out the truth.”

“Then you gave him a piece of your mind didn’t you,” said one of the girls in a matter-of-fact like tone.

“No… I didn’t,” answered Maylen to their stunned faces,” It’s easy to say that I should have or that one of you would but you see… when I found out… I was so badly hurt… I had betrayed my heart that had been… in love… with someone else… I had betrayed that person… I had betrayed the wizard whose work was stolen because I was too blind to notice something was wrong.”

The girls stared at Maylen quietly before one spoke up and asked, “So what did you do?”

Maylen swallowed, they could see her eyes water slightly and heard her clear her throat before responding, “Nothing… I stayed with him… believing I deserved what I got… then one day about fifteen years ago he was killed… and I ran thinking I was free… for years I’ve worked to… restore myself… but recently I found out he’s still alive… and now I’m not sure.”

The girls stared at her dumbstruck.

Maylen finished with,” Believe me… the boy that acts stupid… the stupider the better… around you… trying to impress you or get your attention is one who does care for you… and don’t dismiss the oddball ones… who stare and blush… or make you feel special… or they include you where they normally would not have.”

Hermione slammed her book suddenly and ran out of the library.

Maylen smiled after her as the girls looked to each other in surprise. The librarian didn’t make a sound or even have a look of annoyance to such a disturbing sound.

In the corridor, Ginny watched as Hermione ran out of the library towards Gryffindor house.

“Maybe mom could do something,” whispered Ginny loudly.

A hand came to rest on her shoulder and she looked up to see Professor McGonagall standing there, watching Hermione disappear around the corner.

“No Ms Weasley, “softly spoke the Professor, “Hermione must face her pain… either the cause or the source... and in about two weeks the source will arrive… I would rather she faced the cause of it to gain the strength she’ll need.”

In the hospital bed, Harry still lay, letting his mind wonder. He had found his glasses and stared at the ceiling

Die for you…

That thing’s words echoed in his mind.

“How did it know that there wouldn’t be anybody here,” whispered Harry aloud?

He remembered something else it had said too.

What hunts human girls for their blood?

Then you’ll know what was done to you…

I really did enjoy it.

Harry thought on the question and remembered his third year. Professor Lupin had them studying many creatures and there had been a list of creatures that preyed on humans, some that sought their blood but weren’t gender specific. However Harry remembered reading a section about a creature that sought the blood of humans and existed in similar form. And if it was a male, it would generally seek a female human as Harry had done with Lavender and Cho… and Hermione.

“They made me into a vampire,” whispered Harry aloud to no one, anger creeping into his words.

Before he could let his thoughts dwell on it the door opened and Pomfrey stepped in with Neville. They walked towards him and Pomfrey pointed to the bed next to Harry while she turned around.

“Well Mr. Potter, I see you have awoken and decided to stay here for once,” remarked Pomfrey, a slight note of concern to her voice, “Do you know what happened to you… what was done to you previously I mean?”

Harry shook his head answering, “Yeah I was made into.”

Pomfrey interrupted, curtly saying, “Very well, let me tell you this it has passed through your system… you are no longer under the influence of the infusion… and are fully human now… you may leave come lunch… think you can wait an hour?”

Harry shook his head again even though his neck was as sore as the rest of him.

Pomfrey left, heading towards her office while Neville waited nervously on the next bed. Harry noticed that Neville would glance at him from time to time.

Deciding to end the silence Harry asked,” Well what is it?”

Neville froze for a second but having been caught, he responded, “I was just wondering what happened in the potions class.”

“What did Dumbledore say,” replied Harry blankly?

“Just that Cho had been put under a spell like Justin,” answered Neville,” And there had been a fight.”

Thinking about what had happen and what had nearly been revealed, Harry simply stated the basic truth to the question, “That was about it… Ron and I showed up early for class to talk… found Cho… there was a fight… Hermione and Ron were involved…that’s it.”

Neville took the answer without question and Harry had a new question of his own, “So what did you do in potions to get sent here?”

Neville looked at Harry, puzzled, answering, “Potions was canceled because the room was a wreck and Snape was going off about something.”

“Oh so everyone’s in morning classes then,” spoke Harry figuring he had spent another night in the Hospital wing.

“No… most everyone is in Hogsmeade,” said Neville.

Harry looked at him, “That’s not until the weekend.”

Neville fidgeted a bit before replying, “It is the weekend Harry, you’ve been in here for three days.”

“Three days,” whispered Harry aloud surprised?

“Pomfrey was so mad about everything that happen that she forbid anyone from seeing you, even Dumbledore,” stated Neville,” She even got the ministry to send her guards to keep you in and everyone else out but I guess not today.”

-So that’s why no one was here when I awoke, - thought Harry, -But still, how did it know?-

“So why are you here and not in Hogsmeade,” asked Harry?

Neville fidgeted again and nervously answered, “I’m… in trouble and not allowed to go… as for being here in the hospital wing… well I haven’t been feeling so well so Madam Pomfrey is going to give me a serious look over.”

Pomfrey returned and drew the curtain around Harry’s bed saying, “Your clothes are in the drawer… change and I’ll be with you in a second.”

Harry pushed back his covers and reached for the drawer. It was quite an effort, he discovered, to change since his body was really sore and felt really exhausted. Harry managed after some time, noticing as Pomfrey did things with her wand to Neville, to get dressed. As he put on his robes over the uniform, he heard a crinkling of paper and reached into his pockets. In one he found a parchment envelop with his name on it. The curtain still drawn, Harry opened the addressed envelop to find a small note and a badge… the Prefect badge that belonged to Hermione.

The note read simply…

You still have yet to return this to its proper place.

Harry figured one of the professors must have found out about his talk with McGonagall and decided to let Harry return it to Hermione. A short time later, Pomfrey pulled back the curtain and informed Harry that he could go to lunch.

Harry left the hospital wing, walking slowly as his body was still sore and hungry again but thankfully it was the hunger for food and not blood.

Harry approached the Great Hall and upon entering, heard a slight quarrel going on.

“We have to get this stuff out of here,” said a boy Harry recognized,” You have no idea what will happen if he finds it.”

“Yeah I do,” laughed Fred as Harry could see walking in, “Harry’ll be rightly embarrassed and we’ll have a good laugh.”

“Come off it Ron, you sound like he’ll hate it or something,” said George.

Harry walked down the length of the table slowly. Ron’s back was to him as he argued with his brothers. Harry noticed that Hermione wasn’t there.

“That’s a simple way to put it… believe me… I know Harry will be really angry about this,” snapped Ron.

Harry decided to let curiosity take its way as he asked, “Find out about what?”

The room went suddenly silent.

Ron turned around suddenly, his face white trying to respond with, “Well.”

But it was as far as he got as the twins not daring to miss a chance at a show, pulled Ron aside.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Hogwarts… our Hero of the Quidditch field,” announced Fred stepping aside as did his twin, dragging Ron.

George added, “And the gifts bestowed upon him by his devoted fans.”

They parted; Ron was ashen in his face, as a pile of wrapped items lay in a seat at the Gryffindor table. Each marked with Harry’s name from people whose names he didn’t know.

Harry stared at it all and angry thought came to mind but rather than voice it Harry asked plainly,” What’s all this?”

“Thank you gifts from your fans,” answered Fred,” For battling the Bludgers and saving the day”

“Really,” stated Harry, his voice less platonic now, “And what about those who also fought? You were knocked out... it was Justin who stopped the Snitch.”

“That’s all well and true but we’re not you,” laughed George.

Neither twin was noticing the problem yet but Ron did.

“Uh… Harry,” began Ron.

But Harry interrupted him, with a voice even less platonic hinting anger now and his eyes began to squint into a glare,” And whom am I?”

Ron’s breathing became rapid as looked from his idiot brothers to Harry.

Fred laughed and said, “You’re Harry Potter… the Boy who Lived.”

He carried on, his twin and himself trading back and forth, never noticing as Harry’s faced shifted dangerously and hands bawled to fits.

Conquer of He Who Must Not Be Named

The Youngest Seeker in a century

Defender of Hogwarts

Slayer of Beasts

Hunter of Criminals

Champion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament

Hero of the Fallen Museum

Harry hands were clenched so tight, the skin had gone white. The room was silent even from the Slytherins’ table.

Cho even stood; her face riddle with worry along with Justin.

Ron waited for his hair to stand on end.

And of course we can’t forget… best friend to the Weasley family.

That did it.

“So I’m just a claim to fame for you,” growled Harry viciously.

The twins stopped laughing and boasting, turning to Harry.

“You want to know what I think I am,” stated Harry, his words dripping in distaste?

Harry didn’t give them the chance to answer as their faces puzzled.

He withdrew his wand, aimed and set fire to the wrapped items… never saying a spell.

“I think I am a boy who wants to finish his fifth year,” stated Harry in a scarily calm voice, advancing slowly towards the Weasleys, “And who does NOT... want to be… commemorated… honored… given a damn medal… gift given… labeled… free loaded… appraised… swoon over… associated with the dark arts… and most definitely NOT… considered some trophy or a… GLAMOROUS ATTRACTION TO BEHOLD!”

Harry stood in front of the twins as the packages reduced to ash, now leaving a burning chair in the wake of Harry’s anger. The room was dead silent, even the professors at the head table said nothing but stared in shock.

“Is that clear,” asked Harry, his voice eerily calm again?

“Harry… we only meant to have a bit of,” began Fred but had to stop as he fell to the floor, unconscious.

Harry drew his fist back and George stared.

“Is that clear,” asked Harry his voice the same but his eyes crackling in red lightning?

George stared at Harry, clueless to what to do.

“Alright Harry,” spoke Ron, his voice not hiding anger, “I think they get it... in fact I think everyone got it.”

Harry rounded Ron.

“When was I talking to you,” snapped Harry.

Parts of the room began to chill while oddly enough other parts began to heat up. Jugs of juice, milk, water and tea began to boil while others froze to a solid block of ice. The room dimmed of sunlight while torches and the large fireplace ignited with fierce flame.

Ron stared in the red lightening streaked eyes of Harry while Harry watched an orange glow begin to fill in Ron’s. Harry skin began to pale and Ron’s redden with heat.

“You’ve made your point,” stated Ron through gritted teeth.

Harry growled back,” I’ll decide when my point is made.”

There was a popping noise and a tugging at Harry’s robes. A small squeak voice said his name over and over until, no longer able to stand it, he looked down and Ron followed suit. Dobby stood there cowering, terrified of them both. Slowly he reached into Ron’s robes and pulled out a Tarot card, handing it to Harry. He looked at the image on it… the bright burning image… the image of a raging Fire.

Harry felt him-self instantly calm.

“You’re represented by Fire,” whispered Harry?

Ron also calmed and nodded.

He as loyal to you as a dog… he protects you with all his burning might.

And will die for you.

Ron was trying to convince the twins to get rid of the stuff. Ron had been following Harry everywhere since the first fight with Justin in the library. Ron was trying to protect him. In the potions class with Cho, Ron could have been killed by the potion with Hermione or maybe from the vampiric bloodlust that had nearly consumed him then. Harry knew it he had to stop Ron from going that route and now in that moment was the best time to do it while Ron was angry.

Summoning all his will and residing anger, Harry stated,” You’re pathetic… you can’t even protect me from a girl… who didn’t even have a wand… just like your brothers… fulfilling a need to be something you’re not… and that’s something important.”

Harry let go of the card, letting it drop to the floor as Ron stood shocked, a mixture of hurt and anger evident.

And Harry walked away, storming out of the Great Hall ignoring the whispers and astonished stares. As he turned into the corridor, he caught the glimpse of a long blonde haired girl run up to Ron.

Harry passed people in the corridors ignoring everyone and everything, even the feeling of being followed. He was too upset both for knowing that Ron was the one represented by Fire and that he had said such horrible things to his best friend. Hardly noticing, Harry found himself walking up the stairs into the office of the Headmaster only to find it vacant of anyone except Fawkes. The phoenix gave a musical chirp to Harry’s arrival and he slumped down into a chair.

“Well that was definitely a brilliant thing to do,” whispered Harry to no one, sniffling a bit,” But if it keeps him safe… then I guess it was the right thing to do.”

Harry looked back to the phoenix as it tilted its colorful head looking at him almost as if the bird had heard and understood Harry.

Forge again… the union... the alliance.

Harry stood up quickly. He had heard that voice before, metallic like and soothing while yet so familiar, it was unknown to him.

Harry turned towards one of the many cabinets in the Headmaster’s office, letting his instincts guide him to one in particular. He reached for the handle when the door to the office opened suddenly. Harry turned quickly again to see Daken standing there, his cloak swishing behind him for a moment before he closed the door.

“Well Harry, that was something… unexpected,” stated Daken plainly,” Mind telling me what Ron did to deserve that.”

“Actually I don’t,” snapped Harry, “He’s always following me around… hardly get any privacy… except when I’m nearly dead in the Hospital Wing… like he has to protect me from every little stupid thing… just so he can be known as something other than The Boy Who Lived’s friend.”

“Some would kill for a friend that tries to protect them,” replied Daken, walking slowly towards Harry.

“Friends like that get killed,” said Harry, his voice low.

That surprised Daken and brought a thought to mind.

“I think I know what this could be about,” spoke Daken.

Harry just gave a disbelieving huff as Daken walked by him.

“He could have at least told me about becoming a vampire,” snapped Harry as Daken reached for a handle of the cabinet Harry was, only a moment ago, had been reaching for.

Daken stopped and looked back, responding solemnly, “That was actually my fault.”

Harry stared at Daken, jerking his head to stare at his professor.

Daken added, “I am a vampire… half actually… and Ron knew it… my blood was infused with yours to heal you after the situation with the Bludger.”

Harry continued to stare at Daken, dumbstruck.

“You weren’t responding to healing magic and… Dumbledore needed to do something fast… I was the answer… Ron was made to keep my secret long before meeting you… and he knew that secret had to be kept as one even from you… so no one would know about me,” finished Daken, “You know Ron keeps his word… believe me… he was really angry about it when found out about the infusion… heatedly angry… so really that’s my fault.”

Harry lowered his gaze to the ground. Now he felt guiltier, knowing Ron had to keep secrets for their own safety and now Harry had humiliated him.

“I’d like to show you something,” spoke Daken as he opened the cabinet and pulled out a long metal object.

An object Harry had seen before.

Daken held in his hands, it was slender… gleaming… jewel encrusted handle… the Sword of Gryffindor.

“Magnificent… isn’t it,” asked Daken with a grin?

Harry stared at the weapon he had used to strike down the Basilisk.

“It has quite a story,” spoke Daken, holding the sword up, letting it glint in the sunlight from the window.

Daken began to tell its story…

Created by Godric Gryffindor over a thousand years ago… before the creation of this school…During that time many wizards and witches battled each other as dark times gripped the Magic world… a very powerful dark wizard arose to lay an outrageous claim that he would rule all… many chose to fight… and many fell in the struggle… in a final stand Godric faced the dark wizard in an unbelievable fight on a cliff overlooking a river by the village at the time known as Luredale… Godric wielded this sword… and the dark wizard wielded his own… Batheus Venarus… wielded the… Venarus Blade… this very sword I hold struck Venarus down… ending his evil… or so we thought.

Daken locked his gaze on the Sword of Gryffindor, a sorrow look filling his expression.

“What happened,” asked Harry?

Daken continued, not deterring his gaze or expression.

With Batheus’s last bit of strength he cast his sword, the Venarus Blade, into the river over the cliff… laughing as he told Godric… that anyone outside the Venarus bloodline would be cursed with an unending bloodlust if they touch the sword… over the years, Batheus’s curse proved true as innocent people, muggle and magical alike, became raving murderers… slaughtering anyone and everyone… just by touching the blade… my own grandfather killed a good friend… giving his own life as well… to send that damn thing to hell with it’s master… but the ministry morons just stuck it in that damn museum and now Malleck has it ready for an innocent to be cursed… but I won’t be so stupid when I stop the Venarus Blade

Harry stared at Daken, not knowing what to think.

“You see,” said Daken turning his gaze to Harry,” Godric’s and Batheus’s swords have one of few things in common.”

“What,” asked Harry, all his attention focused on the subject?

“Batheus created his corruptive abomination the same way as Godric created this,” answered Daken pointing the sword to the floor, “Each put some of their essence into the swords.”

“Essence,” asked Harry?

“A part of themselves… whether it some of their spirit or blood or something,” answered Daken again, “Basically, the swords have been given a life of their own… where this sword was born and tempered in all that represents Gryffindor, it so lives as that… the same is true for the Venarus Blade… born and tempered thus represents and thrives in the very evil of Venarus.”

Harry stared at the sword as Daken wobbled it slowly on its tip.

“I suppose you may want to know what this has to do with the situation with you and Ron,” asked Daken?

Harry snapped his eyes back to the professor, suddenly remembering why he was there and all that had happened.

“Well I’ll you,” began Daken, not waiting for a response,” I suppose you think you have to go this route with Malleck and Voldemort alone… well I told you that story of Godric to lead to a point… powerful dark wizards like Voldemort often gather followers… and Venarus was no exception to that… they just didn’t simply meet on the cliff and fight… oh no… Godric had to get to Venarus first and that took help… help from friends.”

“But you said some died,” whispered Harry.

“Yes I did,” answered Daken, “Now why don’t you tell me what that outburst was really about.”

Harry thought a minute and Daken waited patiently.

“I keep having these… these dreams,” began Harry, deciding to tell,” The last one really bothered me… there’s this thing in my dreams… it told me… it told me… that Ron would follow me through anything and do anything… even… die… for me.”

“Oh…. now that all makes sense,” chuckled Daken, “Make Ron angry… enough to hate you maybe… and keep him from maybe dieing from all this… am I right.”

Harry just shook his head rather than voicing his response.

“Well I suppose, Godric and those like him over the years who have defended the Magic world from dark forces most likely have had those same reservations about their friends’ involvements in the battles,” spoke Daken seriously,” But those same people, like Godric, had to realize one thing.”

Harry said nothing and Daken took it as a sign, that Harry awaited the conclusion.

“Godric didn’t get through the village of Luredale on his own, his friends… those who chose to protect him… fought the followers of Venarus in the village to give Godric the chance to fight,” concluded Daken, his tone still serious and clear,” Harry… its not for you to choose what Ron does… whether its for you or not… like those who have fought over the years, its their choice to do so and not for anyone to dismiss it… if Ron wants to fight with you side by side… regardless of the consequences it leads to… then you can do nothing about it… you can ask him not to… but its still his choice... and only his to make.”

“I can’t do anything about it at all,” snapped Harry?

“On the contrary… you can believe in him,” stated Daken, “And if there is a… consequence… then honor his choice… and finish what his choice was for.”

“I don’t think I could take it so easily,” whispered Harry.

“I never said anything about easy… believe me I’ve lost too many to recount… but I continue in their memory of what they chose for…even as their names and faces fade with time, I remember that of them,” stated Daken, his vampire growl filling his voice.

“So I should probably tell Ron… if he’ll ever speak to me again,” sighed Harry in defeat?

“Oh I have a certain hunch that he will most definitely want to talk to you,” chuckled Daken with a surprising turn in his attitude.

Daken turned and began to set the sword in the cabinet, looking at it a moment before closing the door.

Harry had a thought come to mind and asked, “If Malleck uses the Venarus Blade here at Hogwarts… will you use the Sword of Gryffindor to stop it?”

“No... I would need the power within the sword to do so and I, like no other, can’t use it, “answered Daken sadly.

“But I used it against the Basilisk two years ago,” asked Harry confused?

“Yes because Dumbledore sent the sword to you… any Gryffindor can use the sword to defend Hogwarts,” stated Daken, “But no one can call on its power… one that could, would not have needed it sent to them.”

“I don’t understand,” said Harry?

“Only someone of the Batheus’s bloodline can wield the Venarus Blade without being affected by the curse and still use its power… luckily I know that Malleck is not of that bloodline, “explained Daken,” The same is true for the Sword of Gryffindor… only one who has the bloodline of Godric can wield the sword and call upon its own power… unfortunately… Godric died having never procreated… there is no heir to Gryffindor… thus no one who can use the sword as it was meant to be… only now a simple jeweled sword to fight beasts like your Basilisk… or gather dust over the years as a trinket of Hogwarts.”

“Then how will you stop the Venarus Blade,” asked Harry?

“However I must… regardless of who it is I have to stop as well,” answered Daken, a note of finality to his voice,” You should probably go find Ron and patch things up… tell him the truth.”

Harry turned and headed for the door. He felt much better and knew Daken was right, Ron needed to know but it didn’t make things easier to know that Ron was making such a choice for him.

Daken watched the door close and sat down in one of the plush chairs, lighting the fireplace with his wand. He looked back towards the door, rather more towards the shadow of the bookcase next to it.

“You can come out now… you have your answer,” spoke Daken to the person he knew was residing there,” You really have mastered that spell.”

A figure emerged from the shadow, shaking ice from the red hair.

Ron stood before Daken brushing more ice of his robes, having cleared his hair.

“Have a seat by the fireplace for a minute… warm up a bit before letting Harry find you,” chuckled Daken.

Ron walked and sat on a foot stool by the fireplace, letting him-self warm while he thought.

Daken just simply withdrew a bottle of whiskey and a large vial filled with yellowish old butter colored liquid from his robes, adding its contents to the whiskey. He conjured a glass with his wand, and poured himself a glassful.

“Tastes better with the whiskey,” spoke Daken quietly with a bit of humor, “I know you’re a bit young but a small nip might do you some good after hearing that.”

Daken made ready to conjure another glass but Ron just shook his head, refusing while staring at the fire. The time for lunch had pasted and the early hour of the afternoon went by as Daken finished his suppressant laced whiskey observing as the fire danced in Ron’s eyes, still staring in thought.

“So many girls in this place and each lacing the air of the corridor with the smell of blood at different times… I’ll be quite the drunkard before this year ends,” said Daken, humorously, “A Knut for your thoughts?”

“He wanted me to hate him,” whispered Ron suddenly,” Because he was worried about me… getting hurt.”

“Friends can be like that,” responded Daken, lightly, “But that’s more of a brotherly quality if you ask me.”

Without word or response of any kind, Ron sprinted out of the office.

“Well I said I do something about those two,” said Daken turning to look at the phoenix, “You were oddly quiet… what do you forgive me or something now…and where is Dumbledore?”

Harry wondered the castle seeking his friend. Here and there, in every spot he could think of, looking for Ron. He searched even some places twice in case by chance Ron would be there but as the afternoon wore on, the search seemed in vain. Harry racked his brain at the possibility that Ron could have gone back to Hogsmeade, knowing his temper, it was quite possible. Harry pondered the thought as he passed a group of Ravenclaw girls talking and narrowly avoided bumping a long haired blonde one.

Harry had just passed them when a memory from the potions fight came to mind.

Ravenclaw girls talk, Ron…

Your name has come up once or twice…

Maybe Rela would like to try some…

-Rela, - thought Harry questioning?

He then remembered the first time in Divination… the blonde girl next to Neville… Ron had been staring at her too… the Quidditch shop in Diagon Alley… there had been a blonde haired girl there... and when he left the Great hall… a blonde haired girl approached Ron.

On a hunch Harry turned, stopping to look at the Ravenclaw girls he had passed.

“Excuse me,” Harry asked loudly, “Do any of you know a Rela?”

The long haired blonde girl Harry avoided while passing the group turned.

“I’m Rela,” answered the girl.

The first thing Harry noticed about her was that her eyes were a grayed white. She was a pretty thing and Harry noticed a slight resemblance to Fleur in her face. She was slightly shorter than Hermione with a slender figure. Oddly enough Harry was strongly reminded of the porcelain figures his Aunt had of dancers gliding on the ice, portrayed free with the wind. She looked as though she’d be fast on a broom.

Suddenly realizing he was staring as she blushed slightly, he quickly asked,” Have you seen Ron?”

“Why… planning another row,” she asked in humor and finished with,” He left with Daken after you… I suspect he’s still looking for you as well”

“Maybe if I just went to the dormitory and waited there, he’d show up show sooner or later,” question Harry aloud?

“Can I ask,” paused Rela stepping away from her group as they seemed entranced to be near Harry,” What was all that about?”

Harry thought a second before looking at her, deciding that if Rela was something… special… to Ron, then she may as well know.

“I wasn’t willing to accept… a choice of his but maybe now… I don’t know yet,” explain Harry as best as he could to her.

Little more could be said as a commotion began to fill the corridor and students went running by. Neville was one of them and he stopped at the sight of Harry, sprinting towards him.

“Neville what is going on,” asked Harry?

“There’s a fire,” breathed Neville, terrified, “In the hall where Professor Binn’s class is… its weird the fire won’t stop… it’s spreading and water isn’t working on it.”

Harry said nothing and thought nothing but ran against the crowd. Up the stair cases and through a few other corridors before he reached the hallway to Professor Binn’s class.

It was a sight one could never forget.

Flames engulfed the whole of the corridor. The suits of armor glowed orange as they heated from the flames. The tapestries and flags among all the cloths that draped and were laid in various places were blackening from the heat. Shadowed figures lined the floor as flames surrounded and did a sick raging dance around them. Screams and cries could be heard filtering through the roaring cackling. There was a wall of flame as high as the ceiling guarding the entrance to the hall, radiating blistering heat as Harry felt his hands go dry while shielding his eyes.

The worst fact of it all was as Harry focused his eyes through the flame, he could see that the figures were small and realized they were first, maybe second year students without the training to defend themselves yet.

Harry withdrew his wand and began to speak a water spell that might help.

“Don’t bother,” spoke a sneering voice, laced with a growl.

Harry turned and Draco Malfoy stepped into view.

“The fire is water resistant… I and others have already tried,” spoke Draco, “McGonagall is transfiguring creatures to fight the fire.”

“We have to do something,” shouted Rela!

Harry looked to his side and realized he hadn’t noticed her there, she was quiet like air.

Harry didn’t know how to combat the flame and worry gripped his mind, realizing that even though Draco and Rela were there he felt alone… without Ron… or Hermione.

“I wish Ron was here,” whispered Harry aloud.

If not that that day or moment, Harry realized that he was going to have to accept at some point that Magic had an odd twist of irony in its way with life as Harry heard his name shouted from behind.

“Harry,” shouted a greatly wanted voice.

Harry turned to see Ron appear from the staircase, heading for him.

“Ron… I’m,” began Harry.

“Later… we’ll talk… right now lets deal with this,” stated Ron, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“There has to be something causing this… this kind of fire just doesn’t start on its own… there must a spell or,” sneered Draco viciously.

“How about a talisman,” spoke Harry interrupting and pointing?

They all looked and it was there. A small object floating in the air, blinking with a pink color and each time there was more flame and heat.

“How do we stop it,” asked Harry?

“Talismans are turned off with a spell or command but we need to know what it is,” answered Rela shouting over the flames’ growing roar.

“We can just blast it too,” shouted Ron.

Harry raised his wand as the others withdrew theirs.

Unfortunately Harry felt his legs go numb and his body went out from him. Draco caught him mid-fall and then rudely let him drop to the ground. Ron rushed to his side.

“Harry,” shouted Ron?

“I’m dizzy… I can’t,” began Harry but he was interrupted.

“Damn,” growled Draco angrily.

Ron turned, “What is it?”

Rela shouted in reply, “The flame not only blocks water, it blocks anything. Our spells just bounce of it.”

They watch as Draco pointed his wand again, speaking a spell and watching as it left the tip only to hit the guarding wall of fire then bounce away, fizzing out.

“Then it gets done by hand,” stated Ron standing, walking towards the flame.

“Ron don’t,” shouted Harry, fighting his sudden weakness!

Ron stopped, looking back with a humored grin, “It’s my choice Harry… Malleck wants you… then he has to deal with me too.”

Harry knew it now… there was nothing that was going to stop his stubborn friend and Rela made no attempt.

Harry watched as his friend made a running leap and amazingly, broke through the guarding flames. The jewel must have sensed resistance as it began blink faster. The cries and shouts had dimmed either from the roar of the flames or the heat putting them unconscious.

Rela knelt by Harry, helping him to remain upright as tears began to stream down her small face and Draco stood in place.

Little by little, Ron gained ground on the jewel.

Every wave of flame from the jewel disintegrated more of his robes and blackened his uniform but Ron pressed on.

Heat, indescribable, blew through the corridor and Harry could see the paintings, around and down the corridor, as the paint began to melt. The living figures ran while the color dripped out of the frames but Ron still pressed on.

Flames that danced the sickening blaze about reached high from the floor to the ceiling, turning the corridor into a giant tunnel of flame but Ron still stayed on his feet and walked on, now only steps away from the jewel.

Ron made a jumping grab for the jewel, seizing it in his fist in a single try.

The group watched helplessly as Ron fell to his knees. Gasps filled in around them as, unnoticed, professors had gathered, wands ready.

Ron’s arm became engulfed making it into a rod of bending flame.

A resonating sound followed as he smashed the jewel into the floor again and again.

Ron arched back, his arm held high as slammed the jewel against the stone yelling, “Damn you… break!”

A flash of pink appeared and the flames and its torturous effects vanished with the flash. Harry looked to see a number of students lying in various places and Ron lay still, smoke rising from him. Rela made to move towards Ron but Draco grabbed her, stopping her progression.

“The stone is still too hot,” growled Draco.

-Ron, - thought Harry.

Ron didn’t move at all.

The other students there seem to stir but Ron did nothing.

“Ron,” Harry whispered.

Professors moved forward to help but Draco was right, the stone was still hot to step on. Many began to spray water onto the floor but it just steamed having no effect.

“Ron,” stated Harry loudly, trying to call to his friend.

Ron still made no movement, it didn’t even seem as though he were breathing.

Harry felt the spark and something… a feeling grew… similar to anger but felt different this time.

“Ron,” shouted Harry!

Everyone turned to look and watched as Harry bawled his hand into a fist, blue sparks lighting his hand. He drew his fist back and slammed it to the floor.

Blue bolts of lightening streaked from the spot crawling like snakes, speeding forth with the pace of raging river, intersecting each other creating a web that covered the floor and creped up the walls of corridor, once an inferno now a radiating oven.

The strange lightening did nothing to those standing there only creeping further ahead but once the blue web had covered every bit of the stone and wood it withdrew just as fast, back to Harry’s hand. In an instant, Harry felt his body heat and his strength return. Standing quickly, he ran forward unchallenged. Passing through, Harry found the corridor was cool and the same realization had come to the others as the followed in to the other students.

Harry fell to his knees sliding towards Ron. He touched his friend and turned him over. Not ready to accept the evitable as he looked on.

Thankfully the inevitable would have to come another day as Ron let off a low, weak moan.

“Ron… you’re still alive,” breathed Harry.

“Yeah,” whispered Ron weakly, coughing a bit,” Damn funny thing huh… being alive?”

Harry chuckled in amazement at his friend having done such a thing and survived.

“Guess I know… why… this hero stuff… bugs you,” stuttered Ron.

Harry didn’t know what to say but nod.

Ron gave a weak laugh, “It’s damn… exhausting.”

Harry could only laugh. Rela appeared by his side, tears flowing like waterfalls.

“Hey Harry,” whispered Ron, laughing weakly,” Meet Rela… Rela this is Harry Potter… the same idiot I’ve been dumb enough to still call a best friend.”

“We’ve met,” she whimpered.

“Everyone,” asked Ron?

Harry looked around and watched as the fallen students arose from treatment with water and potions. Some scared, others crying endlessly otherwise unharmed but probably could do with a clean up.

“They’re all okay,” assured Harry.

“Well then… I hope no minds if I have a lie in then,” spoke Ron before going unconscious.

Madam Pomfrey, her eyes brimming with tears and McGonagall was with her. To Harry’s surprise there was fury in his Transfigurations professor’s eyes, she looked ready to kill.

-We’re not just students to them are we, - Harry thought suddenly?

Harry looked to one side to see Maylen holding a glass to a young Slytherin boy’s lips giving him water most likely laced with a potion.

Harry stood and backed away, as the nurse floated Ron onto a stretcher and glided him away in the air. Apparently Ron was the only one injured by it all. As they past into the corridor with Ron, Harry saw Daken walk in, concern strong in his face. He walked up to Harry ready to ask the events but stopped, moving his gaze past Harry.

In a single moment, Harry watch as Daken face went from sudden pale shock to silent fury, his breathing deepening and a growl present. Harry turned to see why and watch as Maylen’s face blanked. She stood slowly and to Harry’s surprise withdrew her wand, facing Daken.

“Maylen,” growled Daken.

Maylen swallowed and with her eyes filled with fright, simply responded, “Daken.”

No one noticed as Dumbledore stood way to the back of the crowd, watching all.

Dumbledore whispered aloud to no one, “The Past Unveils.”

Next Chapter

Wounded Earth

17. Wounded Earth

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I have NO IDEA how the girls’ dormitory, which is used in this chapter, looks like so if it sounds/appears wrong, again probably is.

I was working on this chapter in conjunction with the previous to keep certain elements aligned, that’s why it was done so soon.

Please don’t be angry with the ending, I warn you now it’s a cliff hanger.

If you have questions you just HAVE to ask or would like to give me a more in depth review (of which I encourage) you can send/e-mail them to itmonster@hotmail.com. It’s the e-mail I use for my fan fictions, so it’s cool.

Revised 5/11/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 17

Wounded Earth

Harry watched Daken and Maylen stare at each other, neither one saying anything at all. Maylen stared in fright, but she didn’t seem too surprised to see him.

Daken broke the silence, “You’ve been here all this time?”

“Just at the start of the year,” she responded blankly.

“I never seem to notice,” he snapped sarcastically.

Her expression changed, there was less fright giving to anger.

“Too much whiskey,” she sneered, insulting him,” Or you’d remember that only males have a scent and females don’t.”

Daken didn’t take too well her response but never got to do anything about it. McGonagall cleared her throat, giving an obvious hint and Harry watched Maylen turned back to the students but Daken had vanished when Harry looked back.

Harry made to stand up, now having surprisingly regained his strength again but a rumble in his stomach made clear it would not last too long. As he stood, Harry felt his foot hit something and looked down. There were shattered chunks of orange colored glass in a scattered pile. The pieces lay near where Ron had fallen and Harry remembered a blinking jewel had been the source of the flame.

-The Keock Jewel, - Harry thought, remembering the meeting with Dumbledore.

He remembered the list Mr. Weasley had read.

“That leaves the Hetan Stone, Niomia Necklace, Geraus Ring and … the Venarus Blade,” Harry whispered, staring at the shattered jewel.

Harry thought about the talismans and realized he had never bothered to find out anything about them, that was usually Hermione’s trait. Harry looked around and the realization came again, Hermione wasn’t there.

-She’s always been with us, - he thought –With me.-

He felt an ache in his chest suddenly as realized that he wanted her with him and the ache grew as he felt both stupid and guilty for not noticing she wasn’t there.

“Harry,” said a girl’s voice?

Harry looked to see Ginny standing by him, an examining look in her eyes.

“Ron’s going to be fine… Pomfrey says that aside from his clothes and being completely drain that here isn’t a mark on him,” spoke Ginny gently, thinking that the reason for Harry’s guilty look,” It’s almost like he’s made of stone.”

“Where’s Hermione,” asked Harry quietly?

Ginny hesitated before answering, “She’s in the dormitory… Harry I guess maybe you haven’t noticed but.”

Harry cut her off, snapping, “That’s right I’m an idiot… Lavender… Ron… even McGonagall tried to tell me something… and I just ignored everything paying attention to my own problems… letting Malleck bring his damn chaos here and hurt our friends.”

Harry stalked off leaving Ginny behind; He didn’t notice that a smile came to her face.

Harry went to the common room but there were a lot of other people there, even professors checking on students. If he wanted to talk to Hermione, he was going to have to do it when they could be alone. So he went to his dormitory to wait out the commotion. His stomach grumbled again and Harry swore quietly, he hadn’t eaten in who knows how long and he couldn’t keep waiting. Harry contemplated looking in Ron’s trunk for a chocolate frog when a puff sounded nearby.

Dobby stood there with a plate of sandwiches, a jug of pumpkin juice and a tall mug.

“Potter sir is hungry,” stated Dobby happily setting the plate on his trunk along with the other items.

Harry realized the elf had done it again, known what Harry wanted without anything said or done. He stood there looking at the elf wondering. Dobby looked back with a wide grin. Harry decided now was as good as a time as any.

“Dobby,” he began,” I’ll eat it… if you tell me how you knew I was hungry?”

Dobby’s grin went away and his ears drooped.

“Dobby cannot say,” it responded.

“You don’t have a master anymore, you can say whatever you want,” said Harry turning for the door,” But if that’s how feel about it then take it all back..”

Dobby gave a whimper as Harry began to open the dormitory door and in a flash it slammed shut by a bit of magic hitting it.

Harry turned back and Dobby stood there, thoughts running rampant in his eyes.

“Sir is no ordinary wizard,” began Dobby, sounding worried, and walking slowly forward,” You are different from them… just like Weazy and Grangy… as are some others… we elves are magic creatures, we can sense what you want… your kind is connected to all creatures of magic.”

-Something about Ron, me and Hermione is different, - question Harry, -And that makes it so the elf can sense what we want.-

Then he remembered before… the brooms… the cookies… the juice… the argument in the Hall.

“What is the difference,” asked Harry slowly and trying hard to not sound the least bit harsh?

Dobby pulled on one of his ears, thinking, then answered,” Many names… wizard’s name for it… Elemental.”

Dobby was beginning to look more and more upset by the second and Harry figured the elf had enough, it wasn’t the important matter at hand.

“Thank you Dobby,” thanked Harry, smiling as best as he could, then changed the subject,” Do you want me to leave the stuff here when I’m done?”

The elf became instantly happy, shook its head and apparated away.

For the next few days, a game of cat and mouse played out. Hermione came to breakfast either before him or after and the same with lunch and dinner. She’d be in the girl’s dormitory or in class any other time. Harry slowly became annoyed as he was sure she was avoiding them. It didn’t help that there were always other students around every second and this had to be a private conversation. Ron tried as well, best he could while exhausted, to help Harry and isolate her. Finally Harry decided on a new tact the day of their Transfiguration lesson. Hermione was at home in the library and research was something she liked to do, so the plan would be to ask for her help and confront her in the library.

That morning he dressed and Ron heard his plan, agreeing with it.

They went to breakfast and with a little help from Lavender and Ginny, though kept un-informed, they made sure the only seat available was right in front of Harry.

Hermione appeared and sat where the only seat available was. Harry made ready to ask as normally as he could while she nibbled at her toast. Ron watched as did Ginny and Lavender.

“Hermione,” said Harry?

“Yes,” she responded quietly?

There was a ringing sound as McGonagall calling all the students’ attentions for an announcement from Dumbledore, ending Harry’s chance.

“Good morning students… I understand that it has been some time since Quidditch has been played here at Hogwarts and have great news of that… as you all know the Museum of Darks Arts was destroyed… and now there is work underway to restore it... so I have had an idea in my old age… yes I know it is a shock,” laughed Dumbledore, speaking cheerily to the people in the Hall,” It also costs quite a bit for such an endeavor.. thus I along with the ministry and others have arranged for a little charity event to raise gold… we will have a Hogwarts team comprised of the best of the four houses in a Quidditch best two out of three exhibition match against the best players… of Durmstrang… and I believe Victor Krum will accompany them… thank you.”

Dumbledore sat down and the Hall erupted in cheers and excited shouts. Ron was ecstatic as well but stopped when he saw Harry looking away towards Hermione as she left the Hall.

The bell rang and students headed for their morning classes. Harry paced the common room watching the clock and cursing silently every few minutes. He tried to read and maybe do homework but no avail. The morning was going to be very long.

Meanwhile, in the library…

Hermione sat, staring at her book again. She decided against going to class this morning, trying to accept what Dumbledore said… that Durmstrang along with Krum would be arriving.

“Hello,” greeted Lavender politely as she and her sister sat at the table grinning with a small sack in hand.

“Hello,” responded Hermione, watching them,” Why aren’t you in your Divination class?”

“How’s your essay coming,” asked Lavender, not responding to the question?

“It’s done, this is just… a revision,” answered Hermione quickly as she placed the parchment in the book, closing it.

Lavender saw the parchment before sitting and all that was on it was Hermione’s name including the title.

“That’s good because we need your help,” began Lavender, looking at her sister, “We need to complete a Tarot card assignment.”

“What does that have to do with me,” snapped Hermione, “I don’t believe in that rubbish.”

Patti giggled and Lavender, as best as she could, struggled to speak calmly in return,” That’s just it… we have to get the most unbelieving ones we can… and you’re the most unbelieving one that we know of besides McGonagall.”

“No thank you,” stated Hermione.

She picked up her book and quill, preparing to leave.

“I thought Prefects encouraged the development of student minds in their assignments,” whispered Lavender loudly.

“I’m not a… Prefect anymore,” snapped Hermione, her voice shaking a bit.

“If its just rubbish… as you say… what are you worried about,” sneered Patti speaking suddenly, “Maybe you might learn about something… or someone… you hadn’t expected?”

Lavender reached across the table, placing her hand on Hermione’s shoulder,” Please… we just need some one to use… for our assignment… maybe we can find out who likes you?”

“Leave me alone,” snapped Hermione viciously.

She stood up and walked quickly away. Lavender and Patti sat still, wicked grins on their faces waiting till Hermione left their sight.

“Are you sure this will work,” asked Lavender?

“Yes… it just requires a bit of the person… blood is just the standard that was chosen the book says anything from the physical body will work,” answered Patti, opening her bag and pulling out a deck of tarot cards along with other items.

Lavender placed a long strand of brown hair into the bronze bowl.

Patti opened a greenish package, sprinkling a bit of the contents into the bowl.

The girls waited and a moment later there came a small sound as a puff of smoke left the bowl and a beige powder was left behind. The sisters looked at each other with grins. Lavender spread out the cards into a pile while Patti began to sprinkle the powder onto them. The cards emanated a beige glow before Patti stacked them together, shuffling as Lavender opened her Divination book to the chapter describing the various cards.

Four cards were laid first, spread out to be corners of a square. Then four sets of three cards were placed between the corner cards, making a perfect square. Patti finished by laying one card in the middle.

For a moment, Patti’s finger’s stayed on the center card. Her expression showed deep desire, she wanted to turn the card over, to know something particular but Lavender tap her arm while shaking her head no.

“The inner circle,” spoke lavender, “Lets see what protects her.”

Patti turned over the right corner card. There was a medal on it bearing a shield and a broken sword across it.

Lavender continued with, “Let’s see what embraces her.”

Patti turned over the top left corner card. It was blank and totally dark until a lightening bolt flashed across it.

“I knew it,” said Lavender excitedly,” The next card… that which guides her.”

Lavender still kept glancing at the Lightening card as Patti turned over the bottom right card

The card was blank.

“Something unknown,” question Patti?

“We’ll figure it out later, “answered Lavender, “Lets see what has faith in her.”

Patti turned over the bottom left card and there was a fire that burned bright on the image.

“Fire… so that which opposes also has faith in her,” said Lavender questioning, “Well that might explain a few things?”

Patti had her hand on the center card and the anxiety in her expression was very strong. Lavender had wrote the notes of the previous cards down quickly and looked back in anticipation

The final card lay ready and Patti had her thumb under it.

Lavender nodded and Patti turned the card over slowly.

Shadows kept the card a mystery as long as possible as it turned in the air and sat back against the table.

Their eyes focused on the image.

The image of blooming flowers encircled a faceless figure.

It was labeled… the Earth card.

Both of the sisterly witches gave off such a squeal of excitement that the librarian gave them a very stern look in a glaring gaze, clearing her throat loudly and slowly, with a hand on one hip.

“He does care for her,” said Lavender in excited whispers.

“Just as she does him,” replied Patti just as excited.

The lunch bell rang a short while later…

Harry was already in the Great Hall. He waited anxiously, with a quick hello to Ron and others, he waited. Time went by but Hermione didn’t show.

Harry ate a small amount, not wanting to nearly pass out again and made to leave. Ron followed suit and Harry made no argument about it. They arrived at McGonagall’s class and waited inside of the entrance.

The bell rang again and after a few minutes, students began arriving. They waited until a certain bushy brown haired individual appeared.

“Hermione,” piped up Harry right beside her suddenly.

She stopped and looked at him. Her eyes looked tired and worn with a hint of something struggling in her mind.

“Could we have your help in the library after class,” asked Harry, trying to sound humorous, “Your help would be most useful.”

Hermione’s expression didn’t brighten or change for the better as Harry expected and suddenly he felt worse of not noticing what had been happening.

She looked even sadder and turned her face away, replying, “Alright… after class.”

McGonagall appeared right then and shooed them to their seats.

Hermione went up front and Harry and Ron sat in the back as usual.

McGonagall carried on her lesson but Harry paid no attention, he kept looking at Hermione trying to figure out what was going on.

Hermione suddenly stood and walked up to the Professor. Having not been paying attention, Harry saw a few objects floating in front of the class by McGonagall and Hermione stood between them.

Apparently, McGonagall had been instructing the class on how to transfigure multiple items into the same thing.

Harry watched as Hermione raised her wand and performed the spell and to his own amazement, nothing happened. Hermione tried again and still no results. She tried one more time and all that happened were the objects changed to have the same emerald green color but there physical forms remained unaltered.

Hermione’s face went into a panic and surprisingly the room stayed silent. She looked around a second, her eyes wide with fear and ran out of the room.

He moved to the door but McGonagall stopped him.

“You are not excused Mr. Potter,” snapped McGonagall, “I will take points from Gryffindor.”

-Not this time, - thought Harry.

“I don’t really give a damn what you do,” retorted Harry and he ran out.

McGonagall went and sat at her desk. Whispers went wild in the room.

McGonagall withdrew two small pieces of parchment from her desk.

She wrote something and handed it to an owl on her desk, which flew off with the note in its beak.

She began to write on the other piece thinking, -A hundred points… to be… awarded to Gryffindor.-

Having guessed where she would go, Harry gave the password and entered the common room as the Fat lady let him by.

Crookshanks lay on the plush chair nearest the entrance; its piercing eyes watched Harry. He suddenly realized that he hadn’t seen Hermione’s cat in the time they had been at Hogwarts or even at the Weasley home but that mystery would have to be solved later; it was Hermione that Harry had to attend to. He continued on, there was only one place in the Gryffindor house Hermione could be but stopped in mid step by a nasty growl.

Having only taken only a step or two, the cat had reacted quite angrily. Its fur was standing and teeth barred in hisses. It had moved to the armrest, standing with claws extended digging into the cloth cushion. Harry took another step and Crookshanks gave another threatening howl.

“That does it,” whispered Harry withdrawing his wand, “No more interruptions.”

He aimed the wand at the cat, anger growing within, nothing would stop him now.

The cat remained in position even with a wand aimed; it remained, unwilling to back down, vigilant to Hermione wish to hide, still giving its threatening howls.

A spell in mind and ready to speak, a thought came to Harry’s mind.

Nothing could stand in our way…

Our powers united would crush whatever dares to try…

Harry stood in place, wand ready, words in his throat and in a single breath the cat would be no more trouble.

“No,” whispered Harry, closing his eyes and feeling his anger diminish.

He lowered his wand, remembering when Hermione got the cat. It had been in the shop for years, unwanted, an ugly orange thing but Hermione had and still loved it. If Hermione wanted to be alone then this creature was going to do its best to give her that in return for her surprising affections for it.

Harry suddenly felt a commonality with the creature. He too had been unwanted and alone for years, and like Ron, Hermione had chosen to be his friend regardless of his past or the danger that followed him. This cat was willing to fight for her regardless of the enemy involved and Harry realized he would do the same for any friend… or maybe someone more.

So instead Harry did what probably few wizards would ever do and that was kneel before the cat and speak to it as the equal Hermione thought of it.

“Please,” asked Harry quietly, “Let me talk to her… to help her like she has for me.”

Harry felt quite stupid talking to the cat as if it could understand him but he didn’t how else to get by it.

Much to his surprise, Crookshanks tilted its head to one side and calmed suddenly. The cat turned around, and sprinted off the chair towards the stairs, stopping at the landing looking back. Harry took that as a positive response and followed. Crookshanks led Harry in the direction of the girl’s dormitory.

A moment later, Harry stood before the door to the fifth year girl’s dormitory, suddenly realizing he had never been in there but that was where Hermione had hidden herself.

Whatever was going on was bad enough to drive her into hiding. Make her unable to do magic and become terrified at the announcement of the charity match between Durmstrang and Hogwarts.

Placing his hand on the handle, turning it slowly and letting it loudly squeak to announce someone entering, Harry opened the door to the dormitory. Walking slowly while Crookshanks hurried in, he could see four beds, each with a small desk with drawers and small vanity mirror on top beside them.

Harry had to grin a second, the room was very neat and clean whereas he and his roommates were slobs.

Turning in the other direction Harry saw a large open bay window, draped on either side with the crest of Gryffindor allowing the sunlight of the mid afternoon fill the room and cast a long shadow as well. A shadow from a figure sitting at a bench in front of the window, the figure of girl he knew and had known for his entire Hogwarts life… a bushy brown haired person by the name of Hermione.

“Lavender I thought I made myself clear about the Tarot reading… I’m not doing it,” snapped Hermione, looking out the window.

“I’ll let her know when I see her,” spoke Harry quietly trying to imply a joke.

Hermione turned, her eyes went wide and her skin blushed

“You… you shouldn’t be in here,” stuttered Hermione, suddenly pulling her robes closer together,” Boys aren’t allowed in the girls’ dormitory.”

“Didn’t stop you from going in to the boys’ dormitory,” replied Harry.

He shut the door behind him, glancing at what must be Hermione’s bed as Crookshanks sat there watching his every move.

“What do you need,” asked Hermione, turning her head away whispering,” Something I can be of ‘use’ to you for?”

Harry walked towards her very slowly; knowing that cat of hers was still glaring watchfully at him. He stopped a few feet away seeing as she kept her gaze astray and held her robes together.

“Actually… I wanted to see if you were okay,” answered Harry as gently as he could do.

“I’m fine,” said Hermione quickly, clearing her throat,” Just having a bad day, you know.”

Harry let his eyes move around, looking the scene over. There were no books around and Hermione was one to read when in a bad mood or having a problem, research was her answer for most everything.

“Hermione,” inquired Harry as kindly as he could,” I don’t see any books… and you’re not having just a bad day… you’ve been like this since the beginning of the year… is there something… wrong?”

He knew he sounded stupid but Harry didn’t have any idea how to talk to her. Normally he and his friends were always open with each other about most everything but now it seemed like everyone was hiding something including him-self.

“Hermione,” prodded Harry?

Harry watched as Hermione’s eyes watered slightly and her lip trembled. She was trying to fight her feelings but was losing. It only worsened as Harry moved closer and sat next to her on the bench. Her whole body began to tremble as she leaned away a bit and blinking rapidly to fight the tears struggling to escape.

“Hermione,” began Harry but she spoke?

“Everything,” choked out Hermione, pulling her robes even tighter, turning completely away,” Everything is wrong about me.”

“What,” again began Harry but she spoke again?

“I’m just a-know-it all… good for nothing but school stuff… I can’t even do that now,” sobbed Hermione, her tears beginning to escape her eyes,” I’m not anything… I’m not… pretty… like Lavender… or Cho… and you know it.”

“Why do you think I believe you’re,” asked Harry but yet again, Hermione cut in?

“I’m not blind… maybe stupid… but not blind,” yelled Hermione in heavier sobs, “You cringe from me… just stare at me… just like the freak I am... I’m not… interesting at all!”

“When did I,” asked Harry in confusion, pausing to let her interrupted but she said nothing, “Cringe from you… and not interesting?”

“When you woke up here after coughing blood,” snapped Hermione, still fighting herself.

Harry thought back and remembered. He had awoken from that dream again to find Ron next to him and they spoke for a second. Hermione bounded into the room and was ecstatic to his awakening. She had gotten close to him, making him feel uncomfortable and remembering what that thing had said. Then the scene she referred to came as Harry remembered backing away suddenly walking way out around her, leaving the room. Since then she had started acting odd.

“Hermione that wasn’t because of how you look… well in a way it was… but not about being pretty but,” stammered Harry clueless to explain the moment.

“I don’t want to hear it… I already know,” shouted Hermione her voice breaking, “Go back to Cho… she’s the ‘older’ girl... she’s interesting to look at... I dressed as best as I could and you didn’t even give me a second look… no one did.”

Harry struggled to understand.

-Dressed as best as she could, - thought Harry bewildered.

Flashing back in his mind, Harry remembered the Quidditch field after the incident in the library. Hermione had on a new blouse and her skirt had been pressed. The hair being tied back… the gloss on her lips… she was trying to… tell him something… ask something… there was a message implied there and Harry hadn’t picked up on it.

“Hermione… I think… there was something,” slowly tried Harry but to no avail.

“Just get out,” yelled Hermione, her voice no longer steady, a tears slipping through her resistance, down her cheek, ” I told you I don’t want to hear it! Just let me know when you need something from someone… useful… I seem to be only good for that!”

Maybe it was what Hermione said… maybe that Harry couldn’t explain him-self... maybe he was tired of being interrupted, he didn’t know but something sparked anger within. Hermione was in pain by a fault of his own, he knew that for sure and was going to correct it.

In swift movement, ignoring how Crookshanks may react, Harry left the bench and kneeled in front of Hermione, grabbing her upper arms, keeping her from turning away again. Hermione pressed her hands to her face to keep from looking at him.

“That wasn’t what that was about… what about the night on the bench in the yard… or… in the kitchen… and when we first got to Diagon Alley… I didn’t cringe or,” stammered Harry desperately to explain what even he didn’t understand,” I keep having this… this dream… and… this thing keeps telling me things… and… when you came in… and got close… something it said I remembered… and I… and I panicked.”

She wouldn’t look at him, sobs filtering through her hands and Harry struggled on.

“You’re not just useful… you never were just that,” stammered Harry,” You’re smarter than I’ll ever be… it does get annoying when you nag about homework and rules… or drone on about educational stuff… but I.”

He let his mind flash memories of those times.

“I always liked how you cared so much… how you brighten at knowing the answer… the excitement in your eyes when you learned something,” Harry said softly, reminding him-self as well, “You have no idea what I feel when I see you reading a book and light from the fireplace glows around you… you have no idea what I feel just looking at you… I’m not even entirely sure what it is… but I like it.”

Letting the words tumble out of his mouth Harry realized how right it all was and wondered why he never thought it before.

Hermione lowered her hands enough to stare at him, her eyes red, looking hard.

Harry thought as quick as he could to say something, to explain but everything was jumbled about in his mind and the anger wasn’t helping. However a thought did come that seemed simple enough to say as the breeze of the fall afternoon blew in from the window behind her, blowing a fragrance from Hermione that Harry had smelled before, calming him.

He continued to hold her in place and tightened his grip as the answer to his needed explanation came clearly.

“No… I don’t think you’re pretty,” stated Harry calmly.

Hermione redden eyes went wide...

A moment passed of silence, not even birds outside could be heard…

“You’re beautiful,” spoke Harry.

Hermione’s eyes widen as much as possible, staring dumbstruck at Harry, a gasp filtering through her hands.

Harry realized what he had said and now knew for certain that it was true. Why he had been staring at her so much from time to time. Hermione was beautiful to him.

“And I don’t think it,” finished Harry hesitantly,” I know it.”

An awkward moment of silence came again as Harry had finished saying all he could think to say and Hermione just stared at him.

Hermione’s eyes began to water again and Harry felt quite stupid for failing.

Only to his surprise, Hermione threw herself towards him. Wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.

“I can’t believe I listened to that bastard,” cursed Hermione!

Then she just cried, continuously into Harry’s shoulder, not saying anything but muffled wails in his robes. Harry didn’t know what to do besides let his arms hold her, sliding them around her back, locking his hands together, holding her.

He didn’t notice, as the door to the dormitory open then shut as an orange tail passed through and a puff of smoke floated out underneath.

In time, Hermione’s cries dulled to sniffles until only a slow breath could be heard. Harry dared a chance to talk to her not knowing if things were better or worse since he’d never held a crying girl before let alone be around one. Leaning back he found her eyes closed, Hermione had exhausted herself and had fallen asleep.

Being as careful as he could Harry leaned to one side letting her sink into one arm while using the other to straighten out her legs as he looped it under her knees, her head lay against his shoulder. To his own surprise, Harry was able to stand lifting her with him, finding her to be extremely light. Turning and carrying her, Harry presumed that the bed with the orange hairs left by Crookshanks to be hers. As best as he could, Harry laid Hermione on her bed, slowly pulling his arms back.

He withdrew his wand and at pointed it at the fire place, with a quick spell, lighting a fire within it.

Harry looked back to her, tear stained cheeks still wet as she slept soundly. On sudden impulse Harry brushed the remaining tears gently away with his hand.

“Mr. Potter,” said a stern and sharp voice.

“Oh hell,” responded Harry, turning.

Professor McGonagall stood in the door way looking at him. Harry knew he was definitely in trouble, having left her class abruptly, not to mention most rudely, being in the girls’ dormitory and even now cursing in front of her again.

-Probably a week’s detentions and hundred points, - thought Harry worried, -If I’m not expelled.-

“Thank you Harry,” spoke McGonagall softly.

Harry made ready to explain him-self when McGonagall’s words sunk in. Instead he just stared at his professor, dumbfounded by her reaction to his blunt rule breaking.

“You have been able to do more in this short time than I have all this term,” stated McGonagall, “She wouldn’t tell me or anyone, even her own family, what was hurting her.”

“She didn’t,” responded Harry but stopped as McGonagall raised her hand.

“Sometimes something hurts us… very badly…wounds us… so much that we can’t talk or even deal with it until we let the pain surface and flow,” explained McGonagall, looking towards Hermione,” Girls… and even boys… sometimes just need to simply cry… letting their pain out… in a sense like letting the wound bleed a bit to clear it out… else the pressure just builds… then the source… the wound… can be healed… and you helped her to do so.”

Harry looked back to Hermione as she slept. She did look happier and he too felt better having said to her what he hadn’t realized but now understood. Even as his hand dampened with her tears began to sting.

“Your mother was able to help people much the same way,” added McGonagall.

Harry jerked his head back to the professor hearing what had been said of his mother.

McGonagall cleared her throat suddenly and squared her shoulders, obviously having said something which brought discomfort.

“I believe you’ve… bended… the girls’ dormitory rules long enough,” she stated clearly, implying that Harry should leave.

Harry walked towards the professor, the stinging sensation growing to envelop his entire hand. McGonagall stepped aside, pulling her wand out from a side pocket and with a wave, conjured a blanket over Hermione.

On the landing, passing McGonagall, Harry felt him-self getting dizzy suddenly. McGonagall closed the door to the dormitory adding a silencing charm to the room and turned in time to see Harry fall forward to the landing floor, unconscious, his a hand colored a dark red.

Harry opened his eyes and found himself sitting at a table across from a person he hadn’t expected to see for a while yet… Victor Krum.

Harry didn’t have a clue how he had gotten there only remembered having left Hermione in the dormitory.

“Vow is it,” asked Victor?

As Harry prepared to speak, he heard a voice leave his lips, a girl’s voice saying something other than he intended.

“Wonderful,” answered the girl’s voice

Then he saw as his hand reached for a glass of water in front of him bringing it to his lips and drinking from it. There was a reflection in the water and Harry could see his face… or rather Hermione’s face.

It took a second for Harry to realize what was happening and the scene he saw continued on. He remembered the dream he had after the Quidditch match of the individuals in the fog and realized this must be the same thing… a dream where he observed but could do nothing. Only instead of observing from the background, he was seeing everything from Hermione’s eyes.

Harry watched as Krum and Hermione spoke in basic conversation eating whatever Bulgarian meal that had been served. He watched and listened as, for Harry, the evening droned on. They went on talking and eating eventually having some kind of desert while Krum talked about Bulgaria and the things he was involved with. Hermione talked of the museums, libraries, and many other historical things that Harry generally found uninteresting but it was nice to hear Hermione enthusiastic again.

In time they moved to the, to what must have been Victor’s, living room. It was weird watching as Hermione walked and Harry sort of followed along in her eyes. Yet again they just talked on and Harry was beginning to seriously consider what kind of sick magic joke this was until something odd happened.

And the answer to her behavior came…

Harry awoke swiftly sitting up, clasping the fabric in his hands, holding his breath and held his eyes close.

“Harry,” said a girl’s worried voice, “Are you okay? I’m sorry.”

Harry let out his breath and looked to his side, opening his eyes.

Hermione stood there, leaning slightly close, her eyes still red but only slightly staring with concern at him.

Harry felt his heart beat quicken.

He placed his hand on hers, squeezing it gently, answering softly” I’m fine… just not completely recovered from the vampire thing yet.”

Her face blushed and a happy grin appeared, her eyes softened.

Ron and McGonagall stood nearby.

“I suppose I should move my things here,” laughed Harry, “I keep ending up in here.”

Hermione laughed, her eyes starting to water. Ron grinned and McGonagall seemed settled.

Harry looked back to Hermione,” I’m fine… I promise you.”

That calmed her and tears drew back.

“Well Mr. Potter, you’ll be staying here the night,” stated McGonagall,” Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger if you please.”

Ron headed for the door along with the Professor and Hermione gave one last look before leaving as well.

Harry waved them off as the door shut and he looked towards Pomfrey’s office. Seeing the door shut, Harry climbed out of bed and walked up to the windows looking out to the Quidditch field, watching as Ravenclaw practiced.

Harry raised his hand towards the window, speaking, “Accio snitch.”

The sound of glass breaking came as Harry held in his enclosed hand the Golden Snitch. Red sparks flashed in his hand and in his reflection on the glass; Harry saw red streaks of lightening flash in his eyes.

“No one dares to hurt her,” growled Harry at his reflection,” Then think I’ll do nothing… in two weeks… you won’t face an underage witch on holiday.”

“You’ll face me… for your life,” said Harry as he opened his hand and let the snitch go, “That will be the cost for… a Wounded Earth.”

Next Chapter

Field of Honor

18. The Field of Hionor Part 1

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: This is part one of two in chapter 18. With Fanfiction.net’s requirements and using a 56k modem, I thought it would be easier to post this chapter in two sections.

I want to sincerely apologize for unbelievably long.

Please understand I am a college student and with the new semester plus work, I have been a bit stretched for time. So this chapter’s installment had to be postponed. I shouldn’t have to take so long next time. But I thank you deeply for your patience and please know I have every intention of finishing the fan fiction.

Here is the long awaited scenario as to what happened to Hermione. Remember from last chapter, Harry is seeing everything through her eyes. Please realize that since this is PG-13 there are certain aspects I cannot and will not address or describe. I hope that is understandable.

I’m not sure how Krum’s dialect of English words should be so again, I ask for leniency in writings of him. So basically I just replaced most of his Fs and Ws with Vs.

I warn you ahead of time that this will be a little choppy. Two weeks need to pass in this chapter and cover certain points. I do not know how well I will convey the passage of time as the Charity Quidditch match arrives, so I want readers to know that so in case it seems as though something went too fast.

Here is a website that I thought was very informative regarding information about Movie 3 Prisoner of Azkaban.

www.comingsoon.net/movies/h/harrypotter3.php

Here’s a website with information about book 5.

http://www.mugglenet.com/facts.shtml

If you have a website, please feel free to post in a review or e-mail me @ itmonster@hotmail.com and I will post it on my next chapter.

If you have questions you just HAVE to ask or would like to give me a more in depth review (of which I encourage) you can send/e-mail them to itmonster@hotmail.com. It’s the e-mail I use for my fan fictions, so it’s cool.

Revised 7/19/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 18

Field of Honor

Part 1

Standing at the window, having released the snitch, watching his reflection seeing as his eyes flashed with crackling red streaks, Harry’s mind replayed the horrid dream like vision since leaving the girl’s dormitory.

Remembering vividly…

It was like being a marionette, seeing and feeling all around but having no control over anything. Harry could feel the light swinging of Hermione’s arms and the shifting of weight as each foot lifted and touched back to the floor. He could hear the soft thuds of the heels of her shoes and the swish of the fabric of her robes as she walked.

Following as Hermione and Krum entered what seemed to be a living room or something of a similarity.

Hermione sat on a large hard black leather couch like thing and sat near her, a short distance away. As she sat down she laid her wand on the table beside her.

Hermione continued to chatter on about the things see had learned and continued to ask questions. Krum commented here and there, answering her but generally, Krum seemed occupied with other thoughts, in time joining her on the couch.

“I know Harry would just love the hills out here, all the open plains, I think open land agrees best with him, what with his love for flying and all,” said Hermione.

Through the corner of her eyes, Harry saw Krum roll his eyes and shake his head in a disapproving manner.

“I hope those muggles aren’t being too horrid with him,” she spoke distastefully.

There came an unexpected groan of annoyance and Hermione looked at Krum.

“Vill you shut up about him vor once,” snapped Krum suddenly with odd anger.

“Victor,” she inquired?

“You speak of him constantly,” growled Krum,” Potter this and that… everyvhere ve haff gone… you must say something about Potter… he might enjoy this shop or these foods.”

“I… I didn’t mean… to offend… it’s just,” stuttered Hermione, slightly taken back but a note of disapproval in her voice.

Krum stared hard at her.

“I understood that there vas nothing between you two,” he questioned coldly, interrupting,” Yet the vay you speak of him… you vere alvays going on about his danger in the tournament… alvays helping him vith things… you did little of this vith me.”

“Harry’s younger… less experienced… it wasn’t fair,” she stammered in reply,” He’s my friend, I had to help.”

“Had too,” question Krum insultingly,” Or vas it something more?”

Harry could feel Hermione’s confusion as Krum stared her down, sliding closer to her.

“He’s no… vriend… to you,” continued Krum.

Harry could feel Hermione move her mouth but no words came out, as she tried to form an answer.

“Skeeter’s article vas not all a lie… vas it,” he growled deeper, continuing?

Harry felt heat in Hermione’s face.

“Well… I never really… actually I did think of it but… maybe,” answered Hermione.

“So you are,” he sneered deeply.

Harry saw it, something in Krum’s wide eyed stare darkened and his attitude followed, sliding forward a bit more.

A moment of silence past and Harry was sure Hermione’s mind was reeling in thought but it was Krum’s dark expression that held his attention.

Krum gave a snort and added, “And here I thought you had veelings vor me.”

“Victor… you’re a good friend… but... that’s,” answered Hermione pausing a moment, taking a deep breath suddenly, “That’s all I feel… for you.”

“The veeling is not mutual vith him,” spoke Krum in a warning like manner?

“No... it isn’t,” she replied, quietly, averting her vision slightly, “I guess I never let myself dwell on it enough... but no… it’s not the same with Harry.”

Hermione’s struck something deep because in what seemed instant; Krum was suddenly on top of Hermione.

His weight pinned her to the hard leather of the couch. Krum kept trying to kiss her but missed as she turned, struggling against his weight. Hermione pushed and yelled at him, avoiding Krum’s face as best as possible. Harry could smell the ale on Krum’s breath. Hands pulled on Hermione, Harry could hear and feel the fabric of her clothes tear in different places.

Harry felt Hermione’s knee connected hard with something and Krum let off a horrid moan. With a quick burst of strength, she pushed Krum off and ran. Harry just saw through the corner of Hermione’s eyes that her wand lay on the table by the couch. She had left it and now would be defenseless against a licensed wizard… a drunken and maybe dangerous one.

The house appeared to be like a mansion as Hermione ran through a series of dark hallways. A minute later, turning into a room where a suitcase lay open on a bed, Hermione began rummaging through it until she found a small cloth parcel. She fumbled with the knot before stopping at a loud stomp sound of someone entering the room. Hermione raised her head, looking up to see Krum standing at the door, his expression hidden in the darkness but enough light filtered to see a wand pointed.

Krum mumbled something, Harry didn’t hear but there was a flash and Hermione slam against the wall. Harry felt her muscles groan with pain. Hermione was still conscious and Harry could feel as she tried to move but whatever spell had pushed her to the wall was also pinning her to it as well. Krum quickly crossed the room and she was powerless as his hands began to grope at her.

Harry felt a hand sliding up what would be Hermione’s leg and Krum’s mouth on the exposed skin of her shoulder. Harry could feel sound in Hermione’s throat trying to escape but it was held back by the same spell which gluing her to the wall. Hermione’s nose burned from the wretched smell of the alcohol and the stench from Krum’s knapped, sweat soaked hair in her lungs. Harry didn’t know what to do; he wanted to stop this, not just watch helplessly.

Krum’s hand had reached the top of Hermione’s thigh when he let off a painful yell. Pulling away, which let the spell that held Hermione against the wall suddenly released. Stumbling forward, gaining her balance, Hermione looked up to see Krum twisting and turning, continuing to yell. Her eyes focused in the dark room and Harry could see an orange thing, hissing and yowling, hopping about all over Krum. Harry watched as Krum twisted violently, grabbing the thing and throwing it before he fell to the floor. It landed at Hermione’s feet and through her eyes, Harry could see Crookshanks. The cat wasn’t moving but seemed to be breathing. In its mouth was a wand… her wand. The creature had attacked Krum while in the process of returning Hermione’s wand before getting hurt.

Hermione picked up her wand and with a quick wave, had her suitcase closed and Crookshanks’ basket in hand.

On the other side of the room, blood on his face from Crookshanks’ numerous scratches and bites, Krum glared at Hermione.

“Vhat vill you do now,” he sneered, “Run to Potter… vhat do you think he vill do?”

Hermione, pulled her robes together and while still pointing her wand at Krum, knelt down to aid injured the Crookshanks.

Krum continued with, “Do you think that he vill vant a thing like you… a gangly mud blood… at times useful?”

Harry heard Krum’s words and remembered as Hermione kept referring to herself as just something useful in the dormitory. She even had referred to herself as a freakish, not something to look at… not pretty. This was where it all was coming from.

Krum gave her an examining look adding, “At least I haff bothered to know more of you... unlike Potter.”

“You don’t know… anything,” she whispered, trembling, getting Crookshanks into the basket at last, “And you … don’t know Harry.”

Krum chuckled.

“I don’t need to know him,” he added sarcastically,” Ve are the same kind of person… popular…respected… vorshiped… me vor my prowess vith the broom and he vith his past… you are just simply… useful.”

“I’m,” she responded in a slightly self convincing desperate like tone, “more than that.”

“Really… did Harry alvays vant to be your vriend… vhen there is vun to be had, is it you that he vants to be vith… vhen do you do anything but help vith homevork… or vhen there is trouble?”

Hermione kept her eyes on Krum as she stood, reaching and opening the cloth parcel from before. She tossed the contents of it to the fireplace by the bed and green flames erupted within. She waved her wand and her suit case flopped off the bed into the fireplace. She grabbed the basket and moved slowly towards the fireplace herself, keeping aim on Krum.

“Do you think he vill suddenly vall in love vith you,” Krum sneered again, adding a humored tone to it, “Think he vill suddenly say such a thing… he vill do nothing… just treat you the same as alvays… just someone useful… for homevork and dark vizards… nothing more… you vatch… nothing you do vill get a reaction vrom him… he vill choose someone appropriate… as the vorld expects… a pureblood.”

Hermione stepped into the fireplace and yelled something Harry could not hear. There was a flash with a whirl of light and in the next moment the Weasley living room could be seen through her eyes.

The flames diminished, Hermione walked forward a few steps then gently set the basket down. Hermione sank to the floor next to the basket, breathing hard and only looked up at the sound of a glass breaking. Through her, Harry could see Ron standing in pajamas, at the entrance to the kitchen shocked at the sight of Hermione’s unannounced appearance.

He ran towards her, ignoring the glass. Harry could see the stunned and confused concern on his face.

“Hermione what happened,” spoke Ron, loudly as he dared given the time?

She ignored him and Harry wanted to answer but had to accept he was not really there. Instead Hermione fussed with the basket, opening to see Crookshanks, the cat’s eyes were open but wasn’t moving much.

“Can we get Crookshanks to someone,” replied Hermione, slightly frantic, still ignoring the question?

Harry watched as Ron looked in the basket to see Crookshanks’ condition.

“Yeah, I know a girl… Rela,” answered Ron, still confused, “She good with animals… has a hawk she helped… she can help Crookshanks too.”

Ron looked back to her, still waiting for an answer. Harry watched as Ron looked her over a few times and a realization dawned on him. A confused anger filled his blushing expression.

“What did he,” began Ron asking?

“I got away before anything happened,” she interrupted.

“Hermione, it looks like,” continued Ron.

“Do you think I could sneak some of Ginny’s clothes,” interrupted Hermione again?

“Yeah… she’s not here,” stammered Ron,” At a friend’s house… for a few days.”

Harry saw as Hermione began to stand up, pulling her robes tightly around herself. Ron picked up the basket slowly.

“I’ll get him to Rela right now, “said Ron snatching some floo powder from a jar and tossing it to the fireplace, producing green flames, “I’ll owl Harry when I get back.”

Just before Ron stepped into the fireplace, Harry watched Hermione as she reached out and stopped him in mid-stride.

“No,” she snapped, “You tell Harry nothing… promise that you won’t say anything at all!”

“Hermione,” protested Ron!

“I can handle this… now promise me,” retorted Hermione as loud as she dared!

Ron stared at her, a mixture of confusion, astonishment and curiosity filling his expression.

“I don’t want him worrying about me,” she answered, “He has enough to deal with.”

Ron stared at her a moment before nodding and muttering, “Alright… I… won’t say a thing.”

With that Ron stepped into the green flames and vanished. Hermione quietly walked to stairs and up them towards Ginny’s room.

In Ginny’s room was dim, lightened only by moonlight from the windows. Hermione entered and shut the down behind her, grateful that Ginny was not there. She looked around a second, seeing a bed with pieces of furniture but also a full length body mirror in the corner opposite the door.

Hermione walked forward, letting go of her robes as she stood before the mirror. Standing a few feet from the mirror letting her clothes drape and hang as they were. Harry could see, as Hermione looked at herself, the clothes were torn severely. Her skirt ripped so far that only a belt and a button held it place. Her blouse was torn open; one sleeve and numerous buttons gone. The damage to her clothes left revealing results as Harry could see in the mirror the clothing she wore normally hidden were now exposed. Items Harry had only ever seen in fashion magazines Petunia had in the house. Krum had forced her exposure to him and now Harry seeing the same results.

Hermione's blurred as her eyes began to water and a second later she fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around her body, rocking slightly.

“Harry’s not like that,” she sniffled angrily,” He doesn’t think that way of me.”

The beginning tears began to reside as she fought on, convincing herself to what she said.

“He… he… doesn’t know,” she spoke, her voice steadying,” He just… needs a little push.”

Hermione closed her eyes, blocking Harry's vision. She continued to stay on the floor, taking deep struggled breaths and with each moment she seemed to calm down. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes and stood up. Not saying a word, Hermione turned from the mirror and laid on Ginny’s bed, pulling a blanket from the end over herself.

Hermione closed her eyes again and said one last thing, “I’ll find out … I just need to be… a little more girl like.”

She lay on the bed and closed her eyes…

A moment later, all went dark… and cold.

Oh how horrible an ordeal…and after all this time she seemed to handle it so well.

Spoke a banshee like voice with a mocking tone of carelessness and humor.

So sweet of her to have such astounding assurances of you as well isn’t it?

Harry turned, hearing the crunch of gravel and much too his unwanted surprise found him-self staring at the dark eyes again, shrouded by enveloping darkness and a thick putrid fog.

“He never,” snapped Harry pausing, “He only.”

Only what… a small advance… from the way I saw it that wasn’t far from success…do you even know what almost happened?

It laughed again, even louder and with a deeper harshness to its tone, letting its voice ring out.

Harry had his hands in fists, trembling, and replying, “She got away.”

You really are inept… there are more ways to hurt someone… to damage them… and… physical… is only but a few of the many possibilities.

Harry hated what he thinking, how stupid it sounded but asked it anyways.

“What do you mean,” asked Harry quietly?

It let of a hum of amusement and its eyes turned to slits, squinting to a glare. It spoke softly, desired cruelty embalmed in every word spoken with malicious humor in tone.

When sunlight is taken from a flower, it wilts with time…

You were there… you felt it with her… what was nearly done… the disgrace… the powerlessness… couldn’t even scream… cries trapped in her throat… she was reduced to nothing of value… a mere plaything… a toy for amusement… a thing… to be used.

Harry stepped forward slowly, his body numbing again at the cold, his insides twisting at its words… sick but disturbingly truthful.

It continued to answer Harry’s question, dwelling fondly in the insanity of it all.

You can rest easy now… after all you did was witnessed it… feel it… those moments…were short for you… but for her… those same few moments… they drag on for her… long lasting… seemingly endless…every night in her mind… every time Krum or Durmstrang is mentioned she must relive it… each day a little more difficult.

Harry fell to his knees, the cold weakening his legs, placing his hands on the sharp icy gravel as the creature continued. Harry realized it… the experience still haunted Hermione and somehow it had nearly destroyed her.

It continued…

And worse of all… is the guilt you will feel now… someone hurting her… because they were jealous of you.

Harry looked up and the creature’s eyes were level with his.

It hurts… doesn’t it… to know that while you were thinking harshly of those fooled muggles and Ron was having fun… she was almost… well you know.

Harry shifted his gaze down and felt his eyes begin to sting, hearing its words.

A second later an unexpected thought crossed his mind.

Yes… she’s still a… well still innocent… its take a bit more involvement on another’s part to change that.

“Shut up,” snapped Harry, reacting quickly!

It chuckled, never moving.

It’s what you’re thinking… it’s perfectly natural for boys do so… think such things… stare at girls… have such… wonders.

“What… would,” Harry replied, his teeth starting to chatter, fighting the cold” you know… of what… I think?”

I know similar thoughts came before…

As you watched her step from the fire place…

As her skirt fluttered…

As her robes fell back…

As her hair tossed in the air… or even when that same hair brushed your face…

You thought none of that with Cho.

Harry had never told anyone, not even Ron, barely letting him-self know of it. But this thing knew it all; even what Harry had thought a moment ago.

It continued…

All that kindness you give…the faith in others… the mercy… willing to be friends with just about anyone… and what happened… what did it get you?

Definitely not what you want is it?

The stinging sensation grew in Harry’s eyes as the ridicule burned in his mind. His body began resisted the cold as it heated from a sparking source within.

Innocents are dead… corrupted fools all around… murderous criminals roaming free.

And worst of all… Victor got farther than you in less time.

Harry jerked his head back up and glaring back at the creature.

It laughed again.

Harry enclosed his hands again into fists against the sharpness of the icy gravel beneath them.

I said without the sun a flower wilts in time.

Her vitality… her spirit… the sparkle in those desired chocolate eyes… all that brought life to her was clouded over in the darkness of Krum’s ingraining words.

The very words you helped to make true… choking off what made her so wonderful to you.

“I wasn’t even there I didn’t do anything to her but,” began Harry, shouting angrily.

It interrupted him…

Oh really… what did you do in the kitchen … in Diagon Alley… when you woke up at Hogwarts… when she prettied herself up like a… like a normal girl… for you?

Harry remembered each moment and the terrible answer came to mind but the creature voiced it.

Nothing… absolutely nothing…

What was it that Krum said?

Krum’s voice echoed around them, “He vill do nothing… just treat you the same as alvays.”

You validated everything Victor said to her by not acting or not noticing… and bit-by-bit the little flower wilted… your Earth faded away.

There was a flash of color and pane of class appeared again as before.

Don’t you remember?

An image appeared on the glass… a tarot card… the image of a faceless figure encircled by blooming flowers.

Who did you think it was referring to all this time… that nosy little twit Lavender?

Harry’s body was still fighting the numbing cold but he forced him-self to stand regardless of physical state as it laughed again.

Don’t get angry with me… I’m just telling the truth… and you know it.

Your lacking experience with others left you ignorant and Krum USED that… just as he planned to USE… young Hermione for his own… needs.

“I’m really getting tired of you laughing at this,” snapped Harry, now standing.

Would you like to make him wrong?

Its response was so strange and yet… there was something to it.

“What do you mean,” asked Harry cautiously?

What I meant was we could join as I’ve said… and when Victor comes to Hogwarts, you can make it so he never leaves sane… or even alive.

Harry stared at it bewildered but it continued un-wavered.

Don’t you think it strange that a licensed graduated wizard like Krum is going to play Quidditch for a school match?

Maybe he has something else in mind to attain besides a gold ball?

“He’ll go after Hermione again,” whispered Harry,” What can I do against him?”

Make Victor pay for all the pain he inflicted on her… you can make Krum suffer like he did but worse… ten times… a hundred times… a thousand times more. Make him suffer not just for her… or for trying to USE her… but for making you a part of it.

Make him pay any way you want…

After all I doubt he would have or will let her live once he’s done.

You’ll have complete control over everything with me.

Consider it a demonstration?

Too Harry’s surprise there was a whistling sound emanating from behind him of wind approaching fast.

Been a while since that showed… our time grows short... decide soon.

“What is it,” asked Harry?

An interloper…

Decide quickly… or would you rather Krum were left unpunished… free to do as he pleases… even try again?

“How,” whispered Harry, surprising even him-self?

The wind encircled him, the whistling growing to deafen his hearing.

Just take my hand…

Something covered in the darkness protruded and as the maze faded, Harry reached, seizing it in his own.

It said one last thing.

When you awaken, keep your eyes closed… when you’re alone call to the snitch and see yourself in a reflection... you’ll know what I mean then about control.

The maze faded… and the recollection of the nightmare ended.

Harry stood at the broken window, not knowing how long he had been looking out. He couldn’t stop thinking about the vision. Krum’s hands on her, the stench he had smell, the helplessness Krum caused and the way she acted at the Weasleys.

Besides the horrid events, one thing plagued his thoughts. Victor seemed to react to hearing Harry’s name being mentioned. It made Harry wonder if maybe this had not been because of the drunken effects of ale but rather something else… or someone else... maybe Harry him-self?

Lost in thought, reality came back to him as Harry heard a popping sound and turned to see Dobby with a tray full of food.

“Is sir hungry,” asked the elf quietly?

Harry was surprised by Dobby’s arrival but realized he should not have been considering he was hungry.

“Starving actually,” answered Harry and walking back, “Thank you.”

Dobby grinned happily, sat by while Harry hopped onto the bed, grabbed a fork and ate away.

Harry stopped after a few minutes as a thought came to mind, glancing at Dobby.

“Dobby,” asked Harry, “Can you really sense anything from me?”

The elf shook its head.

Harry looked at the elf and said nothing. Dobby vanished with a pop and a puff of smoke, only to return before it had time to dissipate, holding Harry’s Tarot cards with both hands.

“Well that’s a useful trick,” said Harry, unable to hide his surprise!

He quickly ate the food Dobby had brought him, chewing as quickly as he needed. When Harry had finished, Dobby snapped his fingers and the contents of the tray vanished then handed Harry the cards. Harry looked them over while shuffling unsure if he was suppose to do that given that Harry had ignored the cards since the first class with Trelawney.

Harry placed the first four cards, the corner cards, and then proceeded to add the in between sets. Harry had placed the center card when Dobby stood up suddenly, looking nervous and unsettled.

“What is it Dobby,” asked Harry?

The elf looked back, its eyes were squinted and it responded, “Dobby must go now, much to do.”

Harry didn’t get the chance to say anything as Dobby vanished yet again. Just shrugged his shoulders and dismissed it; Dobby was always acting weird to him.

He turned his attention back to the arranged tarot cards. Harry turned over the four corner cards. Again there were the Elemental cards Fire, Earth, Wind and Water.

Harry remembered Trelawney’s words about the Earth card and what that spot represented. Harry picked up the card and a part of his dream replayed.

Who did you think it was referring to all this time?

Harry stared at the image… a faceless figure encircled by flowers.

-Flowers, - thought Harry, -Hermione’s perfume smells like flowers? -

Harry continued to stare at the card when he was interrupted.

“Harry,” spoke a woman’s voice.

Turning suddenly, Harry looked to see Maylen standing beside his bed.

“Is everything okay,” she asked, “How did the window break?”

“Not sure,” lied Harry.

“Oh tarot cards,” spoke Maylen, disregarding the subject of the window,” Giving yourself a reading?”

“Kind of,” replied Harry.

Surprisingly Maylen sat beside him on the bed, letting her witch robes fall back, exposing more of her large front.

Maylen looked at the card in Harry’s hand and asked, “The Earth card… a corner card… who’s the lucky girl to draw your fancy?”

Harry said nothing but kept his eyes on the card, feeling his face heat. He felt the bed shift as Maylen moved closer, leaning towards him.

Harry could feel her breath as she whispered in to his ear, “You can ask me things if you’d like… believe me I have a bit of an understanding when it comes to girls… being one my-self... as you can see.”

Harry didn’t respond but continued to keep his eyes on the card.

“Alright… take your time,” whispered Maylen, then she stood and began to move away.

As Maylen walked away, towards the office, Harry spoke up.

“Anything,” asked Harry, turning away from the card to look behind him at Maylen?

Maylen stopped and looked back with an expression of expectation, asking quietly in return, “Is there something you want to know?”

Harry stared at her a moment, then glanced again at the card and finally asked, “Why do I feel so different about… her… I didn’t feel this way before… but now I do… I don’t understand why things changed suddenly?”

Maylen looked surprised at Harry, obviously not something she had expected to be asked.

“Would you like to tell me who it is,” replied Maylen?

Harry didn’t answer but averted his eyes slightly.

“Okay… well Harry,” answered Maylen, walking back to him,” If it’s who I think it is… then the answer is probably that you always felt this way… just didn’t realize it.”

“I… I still don’t understand,” responded Harry.

Maylen came closer and she about to speak again when another person entered the conversation.

“It’s as simple as it is strange.”

Maylen eyes changed to a glare and her pleasant smile faded to pursed lips of a disapproving nature. Harry shifted and looked past her to see Daken standing in a dark corner, his silver eyes shining. Maylen turned towards him but said nothing.

Daken began to walk towards them continuing with his response, “It happens often enough… you meet someone… at the time you don’t realize anything when you’re young… spend of few years with them… and as time passes your feelings change slowly… it can happen slow enough that everything seems normal… you don’t quite put together what it is.”

“Really,” snapped Maylen oddly, her voice hinting with malice, “And just when does it all become clear?”

Daken expression remained calm but his eyes said differently. Harry got the impression that Maylen was implying something to Daken and although he did his best to resist what anger it stirred, Daken’s eyes made it clear he was very unsettled by her words.

“Sometimes,” answered Daken, oddly calm, “All it takes is the right moment to make it all clear… bumping into each other… seeing into each other’s eyes… else it takes something more… like when that person is hurt… upset… or taken from you.”

“So I guess that means you should be careful… that you need to say something to her… you never know… some other boy might come along and snatch her up,” sneered Maylen, glancing towards Harry but obviously speaking to Daken,” Then you might lose her forever.”

“People make mistakes,” stated Daken, a growling tone to his voice.

“Yes… people do,” replied Maylen, her tone unshaken, “But we’re not people.”

“Maylen,” started Daken but she interrupted him.

“I have a patient here and other duties to attend to,” she stated calmly and directly,” If you have no injuries then I suggest you leave… or I’ll inform Dumbledore otherwise.”

Her prior statement didn’t settle well with Daken as Harry could guess from the stiffen posture. Maylen turned and walked away.

Daken spoke again but his voice was different, it sounded mostly like a single growling tone.

“Hopefully the same mistakes won’t be made,” said Daken.

Maylen did not respond but continued to walk away.

Daken turned on his heel, saying stiffly, “Good luck with Durmstrang, Potter.”

Harry found himself alone in the hospital wing as Daken left and Maylen had return to the office, both giving the doors a good slam. Harry looked at his hand to see it was still holding the tarot card.

Harry whispered aloud, “I won’t make any mistakes with Krum… but I’ll do something about his.”

Evening passed and night came but as the hours passed, Harry found no desire to sleep. Instead he let his mind ponder ideas. Every so often he looked to see the moon light change in angles through the windows. Dobby would stop by at times to see if Harry might want something but he had no desire for anything except for the time to be morning.

Eventually the horizon changed color followed by caws from roosters on the Hogwarts’ grounds. Dobby showed up again with another tray of food and Harry accepted it without question but thankfully before the elf left.

Pomfrey came by after a while and informed Harry that he could leave. Following a guess, Harry opened the drawer of the nightstand and there was his uniform.

He dressed while thinking, -Only two weeks and there’s a lot to do. -

He tied his shoes and cleaned his glasses. With a quick stretch, he headed out of the Hospital Wing, with no intention of returning. Closing the door behind him, Harry heard someone clear their throat and found Ron standing by, two school bags with him. Presumably one for him and the other Ron’s on the floor. Ron stood by the edge of the door with a rolled parchment in his hand.

“Morning,” greeted Ron, “Want to see the Quidditch rules for the match? They’re a bit different from what you’re use to.”

Harry grinned and wondered as he asked, “Does it allow for spare players… in case of injury or something?”

Ron nodded and replied, “Yeah… double of everything… six chasers, four beaters, two keepers and… two seekers… trade off between injuries.”

Harry squint his eyes, as the idea he needed came to mind. He then reached into one of the bags pulling out a quill and parchment. Using a book to balance the inkbottle and as the hard surface, Harry scribbled away.

“Want to tell me what’s going on,” asked Ron?

“I think its time we had a captain for Gryffindor,” answered Harry, folding the parchment and putting the writing tools away.

“I figured you would,” replied Ron, sounding a little dismayed.

Harry stood and handed the folded parchment to Ron adding, “Yeah… and I choose you.”

Ron stared at Harry, replying, “Me? But you’re.”

Harry interrupted, “I’m who… Harry Potter… all I do is chase a piece of gold around the field… sometimes nearly getting myself killed in the process… no we need someone who knows Quidditch… knows the rules… and if you’re chess playing is any clue then I think you’re it.”

Ron stood stunned; he had expected Harry to take the position of captain but was electing Ron.

Then Ron remembered Harry’s early expression.

“What’s this all about,” he asked?

Harry looked at his friend, a grin still present and answered n a low voice,” You really are the better choice for captain… captains keep their promises.”

“What do you mean by that,” asked Ron confused?

Harry looked at his friend and answered plainly, “Thanks for getting Crookshanks to your friend Rela.”

“When did… when did she tell you,” asked Ron, stuttering slightly?

Harry answered again just as plainly,” She didn’t.”

Ron’s eyes went wide as he asked,” Then how?”

“Trelawney may be right, I might be a bit of a seer,” Harry answered his voice the same,” And with it, I know what happened in Bulgaria… everything that happened.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed, “You’re planning something.”

“I just want to clear up a misunderstanding Krum has about me,” answered Harry mysteriously,” Right now you need to help form the team for Hogwarts against Durmstrang… then I’ll tell you everything else.”

Ron looked at the folded parchment in his hand and back to Harry, a concerned look growing on his face, asking, “Harry I don’t know? We’ve gotten away with a lot of things.”

“I’m not asking you to help,” stated Harry.

“Like you would have too,” replied Ron slightly curt, “But sabotaging Quidditch?”

“I don’t care about the game,” answered Harry,” I just want Krum… and I’ll get him away from the game… get him alone.”

“He’s a licensed wizard,” warned Ron.

Harry thought a second and replied, “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“Then this is personal, isn’t it,” spoke Ron, “You’re risking a lot… do you really… care… for her?”

Harry said nothing at first but stared back before shaking his head and answering, “I don’t know what I feel… but this happened because of me, that I do know… and I can’t just do nothing about it.”

“Alright Harry,” interrupted Ron as he put the folded parchment in a robe pocket and picked up his school bag.

“Ron,” inquired Harry?

Ron looked at him and stated, “I’ve had to keep that stupid promise… and I admired Krum… so if you’re going to do something about it… then so am I.”

They said nothing more about it but headed off together towards the Great Hall.

As usual the welcoming back in to the fray of Hogwarts was met again with odd behavior. As they walked on, Ron read off the new rules of Quidditch and Harry listened closely. Their peers stood in groups or passed by but each other them were giving odd looks to Harry and there were hushed whispers all around. Though not voicing it, Ron was surprised that Harry didn’t seem bothered by any of it.

They were about to walk into the Great Hall when Harry stopped at gentle breeze flowing through the air carrying with it a familiar fragrance.

Harry turned to see a figure rushing through the crowd. Brown shiny bushy hair flowing behind, reveal to be a girl by the sunlight from the windows. One he knew and was glad to see.

Hermione rushed up to the boys, a bright smile on her face and a heavy looking bag on her shoulder, arms full of numerous parchments. Her cheeks redden as Harry smiled at her, neither noticing as the whispers of others grew.

“Ready for breakfast,” he commented.

“Can’t,” Hermione answered, nodding towards her arms,” I have to see all my professors early… I have some extra work that belongs to them… but I will see you in class.”

With a quick smile, she darted off and Harry turned back to Ron who looked confused.

“So that’s what she was doing all night,” spoke Ron, “And why the hell are there so many whispering people around us?”

“Who cares, “answered Harry,” We need to meet with the other Gryffindor players.”

“Fred and George said that everyone would be waiting in the Hall for us,” replied Ron as began to walk again.

But Harry didn’t move.

“What is it,” Ron asked?

“I never apologized for the way I acted towards you,” Harry answered, “Or what I did to your brother.”

“Well you’re right you do owe me an apology,” replied Ron,” But as for them… I’d say Fred deserved it.”

“Your brothers are friends with Lee Jordan right,” asked Harry?

Ron nodded his head and asked in curiosity, “Yeah… why?”

“I think I will apologize to them anyways,” replied Harry with a grin, squinting his eyes.

With that they walked into the Great Hall while Hermione went on with her meetings.

Next Chapter

Part 2

19. The Field of Hionor Part 2

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: This is part two of Chapter 18

I warn you ahead of time that like chapter 18, this will still be a little choppy since two weeks are passing in this and previous chapters. I do not know how well I will convey the passage of time as the Charity Quidditch match arrives.

I would still very much enjoy and implore for responses.

If you have questions you just HAVE to ask or would like to give me a more in depth review (of which I encourage) you can send/e-mail them to itmonster@hotmail.com. It’s the e-mail I use for my fan fictions, so it’s cool.

Revised 5/19/04

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 19

Field of Honor

Part 2

Over the course of the next few days things seem to be normal, considering that this was Hogwarts.

After meeting with the Gryffindor players, Harry told Ron what he had begun to plan. The part Ron would need to play and how they would need to set things up.

With each passing day after that, Harry took notice as Hermione changed. She kept her hair back, now showing her face and altered her clothes. Even others were seeing the differences as Harry watched the heads of other boys begin turned and stared. It was about that time that Harry had realized that Lavender was right, Hermione did have quite a noticeable form and the school’s reaction was just as confirming of it. Boys looked on in surprise while the opposing gender seemed less enthusiastic about her.

The most prominent evidence to that realization was during the beginning of the weekend, the school was gathering in the Great Hall for lunch and the three friends walked, side by side. Upon approaching the Great hall, a Slytherin boy was speaking quietly and closely with a Hufflepuff girl on the side. As they drew near, Harry watched as the Slytherin boy suddenly moved his direction of sight away from the Hufflepuff to Hermione. His distraction was lasting enough, that the girl took one quick look their way and then delivered a decisive slap to the boy’s face. She stormed off with the boy following, stuttering in confusion. Hermione and Ron caught the slap of the Slytherin but Harry just chuckled, denying that he knew anything of it.

Not only did Hermione’s appearance change but her attitude as well. Hermione was in and out of the library; it seemed quite possible that she had checked out every book at some point. Professors were calling on her and having her demonstrate. Snape was the only exception. He looked ready to stun Hermione at any second, wand in hand, as she twitched in her seat with an impending answer to any and every question Snape began to utter.

It hadn’t escaped notice from either Ron or Hermione that Harry had been rather relaxed lately. He’d sit and do his homework with them, not bother by anything, whether it was difficulty with an assignment or the constant whispers around them. Even the annoyance of the newer students still in awe of the Boy Who Lived had no viewable effect on Harry. Instead each day he simply, attended classes, ate at the Great Hall even did his homework in an unnerving relaxed fashion.

It was most clear to Hermione of this when Snape made attempts to insult Harry in Potions but nothing Snape did to Harry or anyone brought out any resistive response. Snape was clearly in an unsettled state to know even his loathsome ways were not able to offend Harry and other students found that impressive causing the rise for more intense whispered rumors.

One evening after a day of classes of the following, Harry and Ron were at Quidditch practice and Hermione was in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had been finishing an essay and checking her Arithmacy when Ginny suddenly plopped down next her at a table. Ginny wasted little time to start talking.

“There are a lot of rumors circling about… especially a particularly steamy one,” spoke Ginny with mocking unconcern.

Hermione answered plainly with, “I don’t listen or talk gossip.”

“Not even if it’s about you and Harry,” she asked?

Hermione glanced at her a second and responded, “What about me and Harry?”

“You don’t listen or talk gossip,” mocked Ginny in a fake prissy tone.

“That’s true,” replied Hermione and continued on her homework, saying nothing more.

A few minutes went by and Ginny spoke again, slightly whiny, “Don’t you want to know?”

“Not really,” answered Hermione, “You’re the one who wants to tell me… which means there’s something you want to know…I want to finish this… so either tell and get out of your system or let me get my homework done.”

“Fine,” snapped Ginny, now mocking with disapproval, then lowering to a whisper,” People are wondering what happen with the two of you.”

Hermione just gave her a puzzled look among the books and parchments around her, Ginny continued.

“What is anybody to think,” whispered Ginny, a humored grin in place, ” You leave class than Harry follows… gone almost the whole afternoon… no one knows where… then you were found asleep in the dormitory… completely exhausted, I might add… and Harry was found past out by the door to the girls’ dormitory.”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, “So what?”

“So what,” Ginny purred, obviously relishing this,” A lot of people… including myself… would like to know what happened… everyone does… its obvious these past weeks you’ve been… rather reclusive… alone with Harry for one afternoon… and suddenly you’re like a butterfly out of a cocoon… your clothes are… tightened in places… and you’re using a spell to keep your hair back… you’ve got heads turning… so that says something happened then.”

Hermione didn’t look at Ginny but smiled and felt her face redden as she remembered what had happened with Harry. Ginny had quite a reaction to the expression as her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped.

“You… little… harlot,” she stammered, stunned.

Hermione shifted her gaze to Ginny and stated strongly, “Don’t be ridiculous… if you must know… Harry… in a way… convinced me to… talk about my problems and then he simply told me… told me the truth.”

“What truth,” whisper Ginny in an interrogating like fashion?

Hermione stared back a moment and then averted her gaze, smiling, answering, “He told me I was… that I am beautiful.”

Hermione looked back to Ginny, seeing as her face had gone white, her eyes wide, just staring back in shock. Hermione just sat there, ignoring her homework, letting what she said sink into Ginny.

Finally Ginny spoke, hesitantly replying with, “How do you… how do you know he wasn’t… wasn’t just saying that to help you?”

Hermione thought a second, remembering how she knew and then answered, “The eyes… his green eyes.”

Ginny didn’t say anything but her brow furrowed and Hermione realized that it was not a clear answer.

“I finally realized… before coming to Hogwarts this term… that Harry’s eyes are the key to him,” continued Hermione, whispering to Ginny, “Anything he says or feels reflects in his eyes… you can tell if he’s angry or hurt just by looking at them.”

“How does that tell you if he’s… not being truthful,” asked Ginny gently as she could?

“They darken… become less green when he lies,” answered Hermione, “And they brighten when he says something… important.”

“Wow… that’s… that’s something, “stuttered Ginny, “Nothing like the different rumors.”

“What did you expect,” snapped Hermione annoyed, “It doesn’t matter much to what I say… everyone else is just going to draw their own conclusions anyways regardless of whether I confirm or deny anything… so why should I give any details?”

“Okay... so it’s pointless,” replied Ginny then asked a moment later, “What did you tell him… or do yourself?”

Hermione went back to her homework and refused any of Ginny’s further persistence on the subject.

Meanwhile at the Quidditch field about the same time Harry sat in one of the high stands with Ron.

“Alright… we captains, “started Ron, unable to hide a grin, “Have decided there’s going to be one beater from each house… our George… that kid Derick from Hufflepuff... then Dabus from Slytherin… and Janet from Ravenclaw.”

Harry just nodded his head.

Ron continued with, “The chasers are made up mostly of Ravenclaws and Slytherins with one from our new group.”

Harry nodded his head again and asked, “Keepers?”

“The Hufflepuff and me,” replied Ron.

They just sat there for a while watching the different chosen players practice, seeing as they sometimes argued.

Ron broke the silence, “The only issue remaining is the seekers… everyone already said you… but no one is too keen on any other choice.”

Harry turned to Ron and asked, “Why do I get the feeling this is where I’m suppose to say who?”

“You’d be right then,” replied Ron, looking back.

Harry looked back to the field and placed his hands behind his head, responding with, “There’s only been one whose made it the most difficult for me and we both know it… but I’m just the seeker… you’re the captain.”

Ron grinned and shook his head stating,” Then this ought to be interesting.”

Harry just smiled and said nothing more.

The next day was their Divination class and while Ron attended it, Harry sat in the common room, a book in his lap, Trelawney still refusing to allow him back, watching the clock since this was also Hermione’s time for double Arithmacy.

Within in a short while Dobby appeared with a pop, a parchment envelop in its small hands. With a big grin, it handed the envelope to Harry and popped off again before a thank you could be given. Harry opened the envelope to find Hermione’s Prefect badge, shiny and polished. He had asked Dobby for the materials but the odd elf insisted in near tears to do itself.

Removing the badge from the envelope, thinking of how he had it during the vampire infusion. He remembered that somehow the small thing had made him remember her during that confusing time. Then he sat the badge down on the arm of the chair, withdrew his wand and opened the book.

“Let’s see if I can do this right,” spoke Harry aloud, flipping through the pages.

The bell signaling the end of the morning classes rang. Students filed out of the class and Harry was waiting in an off hall that led to a storage area. As he had expected, Hermione had stayed behind for whatever her usual reasons.

But with time, she emerged and for Harry it was like slow motion. The door swung open and she walked out. He let himself watch Hermione pass by the door, holding her books to one side. Her school bag hanging heavily on her opposing side; pulling the fabric of the robe back. Her blouse crinkling around her front as her free arm swung and books shifted. Her skirt swishing, as it lifted and fell with each step taken. Watching her hair flowing slightly behind, a few stray strands brushing against her cheek that she pushed away as Harry remembered the feel of her skin when gripping her legs. The entire scene he watched here; created feelings and stirred sensations that Harry did not remember having before.

-If she hadn’t made out of there… I may never have known this, - thought Harry viciously, his eyes filling with a tingling sensation, -Just barely a week to go, Krum.-

As he thought this, Hermione suddenly turned, looking around quizzically.

“Is someone there,” asked Hermione to the open halls, reaching into her robes?

Harry shook his head, remembering why he was waiting for her.

“Yeah,” spoke up Harry as he stepped out,” Just me.”

Hermione stared at him a moment, then pulled her hand from her robe.

“What is it Harry… why were hiding back there,” asked Hermione confused?

“I need to talk to you,” answered Harry, “Alone.”

Hermione gave him a quizzical look but she shook her head accepting. She walked towards Harry then followed him into the side corridor and into a storage room.

Inside they stood a few feet apart. Harry fidgeted slightly, his hand in his pocket. Hermione couldn’t help but be nervous, having Harry suddenly want to be with her alone in this dim room.

“What is it Harry,” she asked quietly, after he shut the door?

Harry suddenly found himself nervous even having had planned this, it seemed so much harder now. He wasn’t sure what to say or how to do it but he gave it his best go.

Harry reached into a pocket and withdrew his hand, holding it closed out to Hermione.

“I’ve had this for a while… well since the whole thing with Daken and I,” stammered Harry,” And I’ve wanted to give it back… but everything with Cho… I kind of forgot.”

Hermione was staring at Harry trying to make sense of his words.

Harry felt very stupid as he felt this shouldn’t be so hard, so he just opened his hand showing her his palm.

“Here,” he finished.

Hermione looked down to see a badge in his hand… a Prefect badge… her badge. She took a quick breath, holding it for a moment, taking in the surprise.

“You… you have it,” she stuttered, “When I turned in my extra work… I asked about it… but McGonagall said someone else had it… but I thought that to mean… that she had a new Prefect.”

Harry felt his throat go dry and his body heat, something about this situation was stirring him.

“I saw you leave McGonagall’s class… before everything in potions,” replied Harry swallowing to speak,” I told her… you deserved it… you couldn’t just give it up.”

Hermione just stared at the badge in his hand and slid her bag off her shoulder, setting it upon the floor, dropping her books to the floor. She reached into one of her pockets and looked back to Harry. She stepped closer to him, within his reach.

“I guess I have been useful enough,” she said, a slight giggle to her voice.

Her humor was not received as she looked up to see her face change and darken.

“Harry,” Hermione inquired?

“Don’t,” snapped Harry, interrupting her, cold emotion in his words, “Don’t ever say that about your-self.”

Hermione stared at Harry, too surprised by his sudden angered outburst to respond.

Harry took a quick breath and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them she could see the green of his eyes gleaming again.

“I don’t know what would have happened… if you hadn’t been there through it all,” spoke Harry, swallowing hard, “That’s not useful… that’s incredible… that’s.”

Hermione watched Harry struggle to speak what he thought, even felt but she could see it was also extremely hard for him. Harry struggled on to say more but Hermione stopped him by placing her free hand in his and picking up the badge. Harry stopped and watched but Hermione placed the badge back in his hand and looked back.

Her cheeks redden as she asked,” Pin it on me?”

Harry stood wondering; as she looked at him with her redden face. Moving slowly Harry stepped forward and reached for a bit of her robes. As his hand neared the fabric on her chest, trembling slightly, he paused. Hermione giggled quietly at his nervous hesitation.

Harry began to grip the material, pulling it away. His fingers brushed her chest and from the touch, his face shaded deep red. But he continued until the badge was pinned, stepping back, his expression still nervous and red.

Hermione looked at her badge returned to its place upon her robes, even if it was slightly at an angle but the effort was welcomed.

“I’ll wear it… on one condition,” she said quietly, withdrawing her enclosed hand from within her robe pocket,” You need to wear yours.”

Harry stared at her confused and replied,” I’m not a Prefect.”

Hermione opened her hand to Harry. There lie a piece of round metal, a jewel changing color frequently in the middle, words lined the edge of it, and the image of shield blocking a broken sword shined on the front. The Medal of Vigilance lay in her hand.

“How did you know about that,” whispered Harry?

“I saw you throw it out the window,” answered Hermione,” I read the letter after you left the room… I was going to go outside to search for it… but you were already out there… on the bench… when you came in I decided to pretend that I was going to make breakfast… Dobby gave it to me in Ginny’s room before we went to Hogwarts.”

Harry looked at it, feeling his insides go cold with a sense of resentment and his expression became a mixture of anger and worry.

“I don’t want that,” he whispered harshly,” I don’t deserve it.”

“I think… I know… you deserve it,” she replied stiffly, not too surprised by his reaction.

Ignoring his expected discomfort to the medal, Hermione stepped forward, grabbing his robes and pinned it.

“Hermione,” began Harry, shifting his eyes away and lowering his voice,” You don’t understand.”

Hermione didn’t give in though.

“Don’t understand what,” she snapped, somewhat harsh, “That you help people… even some that may not deserve it… that even though you’re often reckless, it’s because you’re trying to do the right thing… that you ask for nothing in return for anything… that you don’t want to accept people’s admiration… that you don’t want to be praised or cheered?”

She paused for a moment, taking another step closer seeing as Harry’s eyes stayed astray.

“Maybe I don’t understand, “she continued, her voice intensifying in both emotion and level, “Four years ago, the Sorting Hat said you wanted to prove yourself… you’ve proven yourself a number of times… and yet you still protect… you have all this fame… but you don’t reap it… you don’t take anything if you can refuse… you don’t use people, make them do things for you… you could have everything… anyone… I always thought adventure was what you wanted… but it never seems to be enough.”

His behavior was bothering her, angering her and Hermione wanted to get an answer from him but before driving on, an idea that maybe no one has ever done came to mind.

“Harry… what… what do you want,” asked Hermione moving closer, only a step away now?

Harry kept his look away and having had enough of it, Hermione placed her hand on his face, gently pushing to it to face her.

At that single touch, there was an almost instant change to him. Harry placed his hand on top hers, pressing it harder to his cheek. His lips pressed tightly together to the point where they could not be seen. His eyes closed but his head moved without resistance to her gentle push. His brow furrowed, bunching the skin together tightly as did his grip on her hand followed in the pattern. It was as though he was in pain and Hermione wanted to press on but his odd change surprised her until an answer came to mind.

-He’s fifteen and nearly all of it was spent with those horrid people, then come here facing murderers and monsters, - thought Hermione as the past flashed in her mind, -Did they ever give so much as a pat on the back for anything… has any one ever. -

Hermione thought on about it. Harry never had anybody for years, no one that gave praise, no one who gave any thought to him at all, no friends or real family. In fact the only people Harry opened up to were her-self and Ron. Harry didn’t know how to be any other way. Daken said he wouldn’t react like other boys and he was right, how could Harry with his past.

-A kind touch… when did he ever have such a thing… besides a quick hug… a peck on the cheek… those weren’t something that personal, - thought Hermione continuing.

“After all these years,” whispered Hermione, “What has this done to you?”

Harry didn’t answer. It seemed he hadn’t heard anything or noticed her thinking, only focused on her touch. In a way he seemed to crave it like starving for something and Hermione began to realize more of the answer.

“All the riches in the world… all the magic… all the fame… and none of it is anything to you,” she spoke gently, drawing closer to him.

She stood against him while he relished the touch of her hand on his face, pressing closer to him.

“And all you want is something so simple,” she whispered to him, her voice choking a bit.

The surprise to the simplicity of the answer delighted and thrilled her. She leaned forward on her toes, closing her eyes, touching her forehead to the brig of his nose angling her face towards him. She could feel his rapid breath touch her lips.

That which might have happened next, she would have to imagine as there came a loud thud from a door being slammed opened.

“We caught you,” yelled a pair of voices in cackled humor following a click and bright flash.

Outside in the main hall, there came a loud streaking sound as two figures slid across the floor out of the corridor, unconscious, stopping at the far wall in the main hallway.

A moment later, Hermione emerged from the corridor to find Lavender and her sister Patti, laid out on the floor unconscious, broken pieces of a camera around them.

Professor McGonagall appeared as well.

“Ms. Granger,” spoke McGonagall loudly, seeing the two figures and rushing to their aid, “What is the meaning of this?”

While McGonagall looked over Patti, Hermione checked Lavender seeing she was only stunned but happen to find a rolled up parchment with Hermione’s name on it in her inner pocket. Hermione withdrew it and opened it. At first glance, she could see not only her name but descriptions of tarot cards as well. Hermione realized that they did a tarot card reading on her somehow. Seeing that the Professor was still checking Patti, Hermione stuff the parchment into her own robes.

“They’re only stunned,” announced McGonagall, “Now as I asked… what is the meaning of this… what caused this?”

Hermione stared at her, thinking on what to answer considering it all had happened so fast.

However she did not have to answer as Dumbledore and Maylen arrived.

“Professor McGonagall, see these students to the Hospital wing,” spoke Dumbledore gently but firmly, “Ms. Granger, accompany her… then I would like for the two of you to have a private conversation.”

McGonagall nodded without question but Hermione asked, “Conversation about what?”

Dumbledore looked at her, his face stern and gentle as his voice,” You have been in a better spirits these few days… I believe it is time you spoke of what caused your… troubles… and McGonagall may well be able to empathize… only if you speak can we do anything.”

Hermione nodded, looking back to the small corridor and replied, “What about Harry, he’s still in there?”

“We’ll see to him,” comforted Maylen.

Professor McGonagall conjured two stretchers and placed the two stunned girls on to them. Hermione followed the professor away as Maylen and Dumbledore remained.

“I’m surprised they were only stunned considering what Harry’s been able to do before,” noted Maylen looking towards the corridor to the storage room.

Harry had not yet exited it.

“That’s because it wasn’t Harry that did this,” answered another voice.

A figured approached from behind them with silent stealth in the dark shadows.

“This came from the girl,” finished Daken as his face was lighten from the midday sun radiating from the nearby windows, “The feeling of the magic was different, reactionary but not direct force.”

Maylen walked towards the corridor speaking, “Harry doesn’t seem to be coming out, I’d better check on him.”

“Maylen wait,” spoke Daken, suddenly moving forward, gripping her arm,” Don’t you feel that?”

“Yes,” she snapped, pulling her arm free of him, “Its pain… he might be hurt.”

“He’s not hurt,” whispered Daken, a cracking sound growing from within the corridor, “But we may be soon.”

The corridor was very dark but also cold and becoming more so. Daken’s eyes allowed him to see the frost on the stone floor, glistening in the meager light. The stone walls had numerous cracks and more were beginning to appear as the cracking sound continued to grow.

Daken withdrew his wand and small growl resonated from him.

Dumbledore stepped forward, stating, “Put the wand away… or things will only get worse.”

Daken turned to the headmaster, his silver eyes glaring, replying strongly in a growled tone, “It’s growing… can’t you feel it…its surfacing… the school can’t contain it… I said I would stop him if it led this.”

“And I said I would not allow you to harm Harry,” stated Dumbledore sternly, his wand already raised and pointed, “And I have always kept my word.”

“Why,” asked Daken, his voice growling deeper, his own anger present?

Dumbledore stared at Daken a moment before answering, “Pain and rage are strong suppressors… as you know… you know what it is to walk in dark times… you’ve done so for many years while dealing with your losses.”

Daken turned, looking to Maylen but she kept her gaze astray.

Dumbledore continued, “This is Harry’s time… his time where every thing is unclear and no path seems right… and like you and his father, he too may have to take that path before he finds his way… now put your wand away.”

Daken slowly slid his wand into his front pocket.

“Give him time,” said Dumbledore, lowering his wand, his voice gentle again,” It may be helpful for you tell him another story like you did of the sword.”

There came an unexpected sound and all turned to see Harry emerge from the corridor. His skin was pale, nearly void of any color, the corners of his eyes looked wet but his cheeks were dry. His body was trembling and his breathe was rapid. His brow was covered in sweat and his hands were still clenched as fists. Harry’s eyes were wide with confusion and seemed to be changing in depth of green colors.

“Harry,” spoke Dumbledore, “Go back to your common room.”

Harry began to slowly walk away, stumbling slight in his steps. Maylen made to move to his head but a look from Dumbledore told her not to. After a few minutes, Harry had left their sight.

“It would appear you were correct,” stated Dumbledore, “Hermione may just be the one empowered by the Earth element.”

“He looked… broken,” whispered Daken as he stared down the hall where Harry had been.

“She crippled him,” stated Dumbledore, a slight smile apparent, “She almost broke through him.”

“What do you mean,” asked Daken, his own voice emanating confusion?

“We all have defenses… barriers… the proverbial wall… that lets us hide our feelings… and the causes of them… like that which causes pain or fuels anger,” answered Dumbledore looking from Daken to Maylen.

Neither of the two said anything but looked to each other.

“Those two… the sisters… interrupted something that may have solved many problems,” continued Dumbledore,” Harry is able to resist us all… but not her… Hermione seems to be able to harness an emotion… one he has too little experience with to repel… she crushed his resistance… and for the moment crippled him.”

Maylen turned and walked away, saying nothing in her departure. Daken stared after her saying nothing him-self.

“I must see to details of coming events, “stated Dumbledore moving away, “Please do me a favor. Take Mr. Longbottom to Hogsmeade this weekend. He deserves a chance to enjoy sometime among his peers.”

Daken said nothing and Dumbledore did not inquire to his silence but noticed that Daken only continued to stare in the direction that Maylen had gone.

Harry sat in the common room of Gryffindor house as lunch progressed on in the castle. The portrait hole opened and Ron entered, carrying a big plate of sandwiches and a jug of pumpkin juice.

Ron made ready to tell a joke but realized that Harry hadn’t noticed his arrival. Instead Harry just sat in one of the chairs gazing into nothing.

“Harry,” inquired Ron and then louder, “Harry!”

Harry blinked a few times and looked up to his friend.

“Dobby said you here… gave me this stuff,” asked Ron, setting the items down and taking a seat across from Harry, “You alright, you look kind of out of it?”

Harry didn’t respond.

“Harry,” started Ron?

“Why did everything seem okay,” asked Harry, not looking at Ron?

Ron stared back, the question unclear to him.

“At your house, Hermione seemed to be fine, “clarified Harry, “Even when we came to Hogwarts she seemed fine.”

“What can I say, girls are weird,” chuckled Ron, “And considering Hermione she’s probably the strangest of them all.”

Harry finally matched sight with Ron and his face showed that he was not impressed by Ron’s implied humor.

Ron cleared his throat and answered,” Its not like I really know any more than you do… but I’d say she wasn’t fine… you just didn’t notice.”

Harry’s eyes squinted, glaring at Ron.

Ron continued unfazed, “You didn’t think it strange she suddenly wants to hold your hand… didn’t want you to know about the reporters… she went into tears when the museum collapsed… when was the last time she went on about homework?”

Ron watched Harry as he spoke and Harry’s expression changed with each moment.

“So I really didn’t notice anything, “replied Harry, “Just like he said I would.”

“Who said,” asked Ron?

“Krum,” whispered Harry, barely speaking.

Harry’s eyes changed color, darkening, then red flashes appeared and Ron saw it all.

“You have no idea how weird it is to see your eyes do that,” spoke Ron.

“What would you rather they do,” responded Harry, “Glow like yours?”

Ron furrowed his brow and asked,” My eyes glowed?”

Harry shook his head and answered, “When we had that argument in the Great Hall.”

“Were they orange, “added Ron?

Harry shook his head again and Ron went silent thinking to himself.

After a short time, the two boys ate the food and drank the juice Ron had brought. They ate mostly in silence, both thinking their own thoughts. A bell rang and Harry stood up.

“What now,” asked Ron?

“Class,” responded Harry.

“Did you give Hermione the badge,” inquired Ron?

“Yes,” answered Harry then asking, “What about your brothers?”

“They’re interested in knowing why but I said they’d find out,” answered Ron.

Harry walked towards the stairs to the dormitories, replying with, “After the weekend, they’ll know… especially Krum.”

With that said Harry went to his dormitory and collected his things for the afternoon class with Professor McGonagall. As they headed for their double Transfiguration, neither spoke much as the prior conversation had left each to their own thoughts. Hermione was already present, as expected, but even though she was happy to see her friends, something seemed to be occupying her and Harry didn’t have the chance to ask what it may be as the bell rang signaling the start of classes.

Harry let his momentary wonder of Hermione in the class delude. Lavender and her sister returned to classes the next day but apparently seem to stay quite clear of Harry for some reason he had not yet known.

The two weeks that that separated Dumbledore’s announcement of the Quidditch match and the anticipated arrival of Durmstrang came to a near end as the final weekend arrived. A Hogsmeade weekend and the three friends were quick to be ready for a day of much needed wandering and mild shopping in the nearby village.

Early in the day, a short time after breakfast, Harry and his friends climbed into a horseless carriage for the trip to Hogsmeade. With the season late into the fall, many of the trees had lost most of their leaves and the early morning air was slight cool crisp but the sun warmed things up quick enough.

They roamed about among the different shops, seeing as many had already prepared for the Quidditch match and the arrival of students this day having sales and other Quidditch memorabilia. Ron and Harry didn’t partake in any of the rush among the students. Instead they went along with Hermione in and out of numerous bookshops.

In one particular bookshop, while Hermione stocked on books, Harry and Ron both acquired a book each themselves. Ron’s choice was an updated guide to Quidditch rules with addition of tips for captains. Harry’s choice was the surprise to them as the book he chose was actually a journal. They inquired lightly but Harry only gave shrug and a why not response.

Trouble began when they went to purchase their items. The proprietor seemed quite happier than he needed by be when selling them their items.

As they left the shop, Ron insisted on carrying their bags and walked with them carrying it all in one hand.

Hermione was looking over the receipt of their purchase as they had combined it all to one sale.

Harry suddenly asked an unexpected question, “Ron, your friend Rela, didn’t she come to Hogsmeade?”

Ron looked at Harry, surprised to be asked such a thing, but answered, “No she said she had plans with Cho for something.”

Harry took the answer easily but then asked another question a moment later, “Is she a fifth year?”

“Yeah,” replied Ron then questioned back,” Why?”

Even Hermione shot a glance or to at the questions as well.

“I just wondering because I don’t remember her at our sorting,” now answered Harry.

“Oh,“ explained Ron ”She’s a transfer from Germany… she spent her early schooling in this country that’s why she doesn’t have the accent… but her dad transferred to Germany before she old enough to attend school for magic.”

“When did she transfer here,” finished Harry?

“This year,” answered Ron, “Her dad does something for the ministry and I met her there.”

“So there was another reason for why you were going to the ministry a lot,” spoke up Hermione still looking at the receipt.

Ron didn’t reply but his ears went red.

“Why do you keep staring at that,” asked Harry, looking to Hermione?

“Our receipt, “she responded, “It doesn’t seem to add up right.”

They stopped and gathered around.

“Ron what was the cost of your book,” asked Hermione?

“Five galleons… it was the deluxe edition.”

“Harry, “asked Hermione next?

“Three sickles.”

“And my books were ten galleons, “she responded.

Ron spoke up before she did, stating plainly, “We only paid 8 galleons for it all.”

“It should have been fifteen galleons and three sickles,” stated Hermione, “We barely paid half.”

Ron and Hermione looked to Harry, the answer to the situation clear.

“I’m taking my journal back,” announced Harry as he turned around.

Hermione spoke, “Don’t bother with it… lets just go to the Three Broomsticks for a Butter beer.”

Harry responded back, snapping, “It’s not fair… and I’m not letting it go again.”

“Let it go,” stated Hermione strongly.

Harry looked back to her, saying nothing. Ron stood by looking between the two.

“Let them charge you less if they want,” spoke Hermione, her voice softer, “They’re doing it, not you.”

Harry stood where he was for a moment; then turned back to them and they headed off. Walking on, they talk about other things letting the issue with the books behind them. Passing other shops and people on the path to the Three Broomsticks, they passed a dark alleyway.

Harry stopped and looked back behind them.

“What is it Harry,” asked Hermione?

Harry whispered, “I thought I saw something.”

Ron turned completely around following as Harry did the same. Hermione seemed to silently question their action but followed without response.

Harry took a few steps back along the path they had walked to the alley they had just past. He stood just at the edge while Ron stood by and Hermione withdrew her wand. Harry made a look and Ron reacted by moving quickly, reaching into the small and pulling somebody out.

“Alright you,” shouted Ron, and then surprisingly said, “Neville?”

Ron had yanked Neville Longbottom from the alley. He looked terrified for some reason as he was trembling and nearly white as a ghost.

“Neville what’s wrong,” inquired Harry, confused?

Harry knew Neville had always been somewhat of timid person but this was even more than what Snape could do to him. At least Snape didn’t make Neville feel as though he were in danger for some reason.

Neville began to stutter out his response with, “I got… I got separated… and … and then… I saw them… I’m not supposed to be here but… but our professor said.”

Ron let go of Neville and Harry backed up a step to give his fellow Gryffindor a bit of room but Neville wasn’t making much sense.

Hermione walked past the two and up to Neville, placing her hand and his shoulder. In an instant, Neville oddly seem to begin calming down and Harry caught it then. Her eyes, the brown in them brightened as if they were beginning to glow. Harry’s mind flashed back to the storage room when the two person burst in. His back had been to the door so Harry had not seen who it was but remembered a bright white flash and a click like that of a camera. He also remembered what happened next.

Hermione had pulled away suddenly and in that same instant of the flash, Harry had felt something strong pass through and by him. Harry remembered the feeling, the feeling of going numb as if he was being stunned. Harry remembered Hermione whispering something and then leaving but everything after that became hazy as the world dim both consciously and physically. His body had reacted, Harry remembered, as the room had started to grow cold as he felt him-self resist the stunning affects happening to him. How his anger began to surface when she had been somehow forced to leave. The strange feeling of disappointment of losing the touch of Hermione’s hand to his face and same the strange wish to have it back, replayed in his mind. Lastly remembering the pain feeling of loss and something else as Harry was left alone in the storage room.

Harry wondered why now he was suddenly remembering that moment and wondered how Daken, Dumbledore and Maylen had been there waiting for him. As if they had expected something, as if they or someone knew more than they were letting on.

As Neville calmed, Harry shot a quick glance at Ron, remembering the glowing orange in his eyes in the Great Hall. How the room wasn’t going completely cold as it normally did with Harry.

Sir is no ordinary wizard… you are different from them… just like Weazy and Grangy… as are some others.

The words Dobby had said repeated in his mind as shot glances between Hermione and Ron, questioning under his breath, “Elementals… what are elementals?”

Hermione’s voice broke his thoughts.

“Okay Neville,” spoke Hermione, encouragingly, “Let’s start again… why you were in the alley?”

“I’m not supposed to be here,’ answered Neville slowly.

“Did you break a rule or something, “continued Hermione?

“No,” replied Neville, “I’m in trouble.”

“In trouble for what,” continued Hermione yet again, her tone remaining soft but forward?

Neville looked at Harry, hesitantly, then answered, “They think I’m responsible for all the stuff… happening at the school.”

Hermione locked eyes with Harry at that but he simply responded plainly, “I don’t believe that… you a good person Neville… I don’t believe you’d want to make people do anything wrong.”

Neville seemed reassured by Harry’s statement but not completely instead he looked ahead, past them.

Before Hermione could continue, Ron asked bluntly, “You mentioned they… who are they?”

Neville nodded his head, indicating behind them and answered, “Them.”

Ron and Harry turned, while Hermione looked on. Three surely looking wizards approached them rapidly, wands already drawn.

They breached the distance quickly and wasted little time in making clear their reasons for such needed haste to their group.

“What are doing here, Longbottom, “rudely snapped the middle wizard, “You in for it now, leaving Hogwarts like this.”

Hermione stepped forward in front of the boys, blocking the path of the wizards, demanding, “I’m a Prefect for Hogwarts and I want to know why you are?”

Hermione was cut off as the middle wizard reached out and roughly pushed her to the side opposite to Ron, nearly knocking her to the ground, giving off a small painful sound to the unexpected motion.

“Bug off you, “interrupted the wizard, ending with a nasty insult.

The next moment, though instant in reality, moved at a snail’s pace for those involved.

Harry’s eyes sparked red and his hands bawled to fists.

A flash brightened the scene around them and a thunderous boom followed.

The middle, most likely leading, wizard and the one his opposite Harry had only enough time to look at him before their view was drastically change.

The moment ended as the two mentioned wizards were suddenly and violently flung backwards away from the group. Smashing loudly through the wood and glass of a window of shop a short distant away.

The remaining wizard began to raise his hand, holding his wand but stopped as another wand was pointed dead center to his face.

“Give me a reason,” warned Ron, holding his wand at the remaining wizard, glaring, his expression void but stern, finishing with, “Drop it or your next.”

The remaining wizard let go of his wand in mid air.

“Accio,” whispered Harry and the sound of stone breaking followed.

The two wizards, previous blasted away, were magically pulled through the stone, breaking it as they went through, from underneath the broken window of the shop. On lookers were appearing every where now and a crowd was forming.

The two wizards came to a stop a short distance from a Harry

Thunder could be heard in the distance and the sunlight on the Hogsmeade began to dim as clouds thickened in the skies. The temperature began to cool rapidly.

“Don’t... ever,” growled Harry, his eyes glaring and squinting, barely visible to the crowd, “Threaten a friend of mine… or any Hogwarts student again.”

“Or what,” mocked the wizard guarded by Ron?

Harry kept his gaze on the two wizards, that lay injured at his feet, answering viciously, “Or you won’t have a chance to regret it.”

People around them, villager and student alike were trading whispers and worried glances.

“You know this isn’t going to look good to the public when presented in the news, “said a voice approaching from behind, “Three Aurors bested by students of Hogwarts… not just bested but surprised, countered and of course, humiliated by children.”

Hermione looked behind them to see Daken approaching, his expression unsettled but a slight grin apparent.

“Of course this was avoidable, “continued Daken, insulting intentions clear in every word, “Had you been considerate, not to mention intelligent enough to announce that you lot were Ministry Aurors as procedure calls for.”

Daken gave a chuckle and added, “And I don’t think you’re supervisors will be happy to know how… unpleasant… you were to the Boy Who Lived.”

A quick breeze blew by, pushing at Harry’s hair, revealing his lightening shaped scar.

The two wizards on the ground recovered enough to look up and see the scar as the third stood in shock, as pale as possible.

“Harry Potter… hero from the fall of the Museum collapse… treated so rudely by representatives from the very ministry that hails him, “finished Daken, humor growing in his tone, “Oh yes… that’s good.”

“That boy,” began the third wizard, looking to Neville.

Daken interrupted him, replying to the impending statement, “Neville is here with me… and since I too represent the ministry, I’m chaperoning the boy… we were separated by a crowd… that’s why he was alone… so now that you know, I highly suggest you all leave… now.”

With a look, Ron lowered his wand and the third wizard picked his slowly. He helped the previously injured wizards to stand and the apparated out of sight.

Harry wasn’t calming much, even as things around seem to go back to normal. The building crowd began to disperse, still whispering on the played out events. Harry stood there breathing slowly and deeply, a scowl still on his face. His hands still in fists, even as the cool breeze picked up, blowing harder.

Hermione came up to Harry, approaching slowly. Her inquiring smile and caring eyes did something silently to Harry, reversing his state. Meanwhile Ron checked on Neville, who seemed to be still shaken but otherwise reassured.

“Quick work with them Harry,” spoke Daken, “Maybe now they’ll think twice… even three times before trotting about like that.”

“Leave me alone, “whispered Harry, knowing Daken could hear him, “You didn’t lose Neville… you left him on purpose… leaving him in the crowd… you set this up.”

Hermione, having been so close, heard Harry and looked to Daken, adding, “Being what you are, it’s hard to believe you could lose Neville so easily.”

Daken said nothing but simply looked at them, and especially at Ron who was glaring back at him, anger very apparent.

“I’m going back to the castle, “announced Harry.

Harry turned and walked back in the direction to the horseless carriages that had brought them earlier. Hermione walked with and Ron, after an assurance from Neville followed.

Harry had taken a couple of steps but stopped next to Daken, stated whispering, knowing Daken could still hear him, “Watch what you do… or don’t do… with my friends.”

With that said, Harry walked off, Hermione gave a nervous but stern look to Daken and Ron walked quickly by, not looking at all.

“I guess I should go back too, “spoke Neville quietly.

“No,” replied Daken, “Dumbledore asked me to bring you here… and I’m not going to let this little misunderstanding hold you back… Harry has confidence you… enough to do some serious harm to other wizards.”

Neville looked unsettled but happy at the statement.

“Let’s get something to say thank you to Harry,” inspired Daken.

Daken kept pace with Neville as he pondered the past events only minutes ago. Noticing that the temperature was still cooled and the thickened clouds were still dimming the sunlight.

-I hope you know what you’re doing Dumbledore, -thought Daken, -Because he’s dangerously close… and I won’t let him have a chance to turn… no matter what you say… that rage is just too dangerous… and the desires within are growing.-

Back at the castle, Harry shut him-self in the boys’ dormitory for the rest of the weekend. Hermione wanted to go in but by being a Prefect, she had to follow as well as enforce the rules which also included that girls’ were not allowed in the boys’ dormitories. She was relieved somewhat to know that Ron barely ever left for more than a few minutes him-self which meant that Harry wasn’t alone. Something she was sure for some reason was not a good idea.

Harry did finally emerge for classes, when the weekend ended. Although he had hope to ignore it, the Daily Prophet had printed a very noticeable article about the Hogsmeade incident and Hedwig had brought letters from the ministry about it, Harry skimmed through them only to appease Hedwig.

Ron was able to nab the letters and give them to Hermione. To the relief of them both they were mostly letters saying apologies and that the behavior of the Aurors would not be tolerated. However they had mentioned that the particular behavior would not especially be tolerated for those as important as Harry and neither of the twos could help but notice that the letter stating that was the most crumpled of them all. Yet again, his fame proceeded him-self.

A day later, both boys were in the dormitory having finished classes and ignoring their homework for the moment. Ron was telling Harry about a humorous situation that had occurred in another class as he was told. However Harry stood at the window next to Ron’s bed, where Ron lay glancing at the Daily Prophet, staring out into the field.

“Harry are you listening,” asked Ron, seeing

Harry stared anxiously out the window, “What’s got your attention?”

Harry continued to look out the window but he let a strange pleased grin appear on his face.

“The lake is swirling,” answered Harry, quietly.

Ron began to get up from his bed and looked out the same window while responding, “So?”

“That means the Durmstrang ship has arriving,” replied Harry, finishing with,” And with Krum most likely aboard.”

“Now what,” asked Ron, plainly, eyeing Harry?

Harry turned and locked his gaze on Ron, eyes flashing a moment with red streaks, answering, “I want to go meet him… but tomorrow… tomorrow… he’ll know how I feel about my friends being hurt.”

Ron grinned slightly, “Alright then.”

-Think I’ll nothing… we’ll see how much of nothing I’ll do, - thought Harry as he and Ron ran from the dormitory to the common room, -Either way… he doesn’t leave Hogwarts… at least not on his own. -

As they pass by the painting of the Fat Lady, leaving Gryffindor house, Daken stepped from a shadow in the common room.

“You really better know what you’re doing Dumbledore,” whispered Daken harshly.

Daken crossed the common room but stopped at a small sound heard by his vampire hearing. He turned to see an orange creature at the top of the stairs.

-Her cat, - thought Daken, - It knew her secrets… I wonder… could it have told Dumbledore somehow? -

Daken turned back and made his way pass the portrait into the corridor only to find Dumbledore standing nearby.

“Again in the house of Gryffindor,” spoke Dumbledore pleasantly but a note of disapproval clear, “Come we must meet with officials from Durmstrang.”

“Dumbledore,” began Daken, “You should know what I sensed.”

Dumbledore answered, “Much will be decided tomorrow.”

“And hear I thought sports were suppose to be fun,” whispered Daken, “Played on a Field of Honor.”

Next Chapter

Way of Earth

20. Way of Earth

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I seriously wish to apologize for the nearly unforgivable delay of this chapter. I was hoping to only be delayed by midterms and work but a serious family situation occurred because of the US war with Iraq, I had to delay things further since members of my family were called into service which required some young cousins of mine to need my attention. If any readers have dealt with young children, than it is known that they can be quite a distracting handful.

I only got to spend barely a week on this chapter aside from adding bits here and there when I could, so this is another chapter I’m not entirely proud of as it will suffer revisions.

I really implore for reviews and thank those of you have.

I don’t know the layout of Hogwarts in terms of where stairs, doors and whatever else so please bear with me as I’m most likely incorrect.

I would like to say thank you to Victoria, I edited Chapter 3 Museum of Dark Arts to correct Harry’s birth name. I never said I was an expert so thanks for the correction.

Again thanks to Victoria for the correction on the Alley of Diagon Alley.

If you have questions you just HAVE to ask or would like to give me a more in depth review (of which I encourage) you can send/e-mail them to itmonster@hotmail.com. It’s the e-mail I use for my fan fictions, so it’s cool.

Revised 6/8/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 20

Way of Earth

Hermione stood at a window that overlooked the vast lightly snow covered fields around Hogwarts but this view she did not see as a book laying on the sill of the window held her attention. Page after page she absorbed the information while bathing in the sunlight and breathing the cold fresh air.

“Another book Granger,” said an insulting voice behind her?

Hermione turned suddenly to see who had spoken to her.

“Standing there with that hair I’d almost think you were some kind of plant,” continued the same voice?

As Hermione turned, she came to see a group of fifth year girls behind her. Comprised of three Slytherins and seemed to be led by one named Sylvia. The lead Slytherin girl had shiny straight black hair, skin as pale white like a pearl and deep sapphire eyes. Hermione knew her from the Arithmacy class they shared. The other two were unknown to her but she did recognize that this Sylvia and her two companions were among those few girls most sought after by many of the boys at Hogwarts.

“What do you want,” asked Hermione warily?

“Just to talk,” asked Sylvia in a strangely friendly voice,” You know… just… girl to girl?”

Hermione wasn’t sure why yet but there was something not right about this. Sylvia had never spoken to her before and given the usually turbulent relations between Slytherins and Gryffindors, it was strange that she would suddenly want to talk with Hermione in a friendly nature.

“What about,” asked Hermione, reaching behind her and pulling her book back, closing it?

“Oh you know… basic things… hair spells… facial potions,” spoke Sylvia airily but her voice changed to a more decisive tone,” robe fashions… boys?”

Hermione replied with nothing, as she watched the other girls with her glaring back. She wasn’t sure but figured what this was leading to.

Sylvia stepped forward reaching out and adjusted ermione

Hermione’s robes pulling them apart slightly.

“I want to know,” spoke Sylvia quietly but deceptively,” What is so unique about you… that can keep Harry’s interests… since he pays no attention to… anyone else?”

Hermione glared back, waiting, knowing there was something more to the question.

“After all… there are others,” continued Sylvia, her chest puffing out, “More endowed.”

Hermione understood the signal Sylvia was giving but still remained silent, wondering what and how to answer.

Daken’s prior words replayed in her mind.

Harry won’t respond like other boys… there are other challenges… girls… that will be in your favor.

Harry’s word replayed as well.

How you brighten at knowing the answer… the excitement in your eyes when you learn something.

“Maybe Harry looks for how a person is rather than how they look,” responded Hermione sternly.

Sylvia looked unconvinced with her expression and responded, “Oh please… the interests of all boys are very limited… just one thing.”

“Then you don’t realize that… that,” stuttered Hermione momentarily, “Harry isn’t like other boys… four years here should have made that clear to anyone.”

“Or maybe, the rumors are true,” sneered Sylvia, squinting her eyes,” That Harry has a very satisfying relationship with you?”

Hermione could feel herself go red as her face heated. The insinuation so clear and direct that Hermione wasn’t sure what to respond with.

“You’re just jealous,” snapped a new voice nearby!

Hermione turned to see Ron’s friend Rela walking towards them.

“You just can’t accept that there are boys who don’t follow you around like drooling dogs,” continued Rela towards them, “Sniffing at your skirt.”

Sylvia’s expression changed fast and evident to the unwanted intrusion.

Rela stood near Hermione and the Sylvia gave a deathly glare back. Rela’s interruption had given Hermione a chance to contemplate an answer.

“I do give Harry a ‘satisfying’ relationship,” replied Hermione, causing both girls to turn their attention back at her.

At the same moment, Hermione could see Lavender and her sister peering around the corner, both anxiously awaiting the outcome of the encounter.

The other two Slytherin girls continued to stare dumbstruck, Rela look worried and Sylvia’s face turned slowly to expectation.

“With me… and Ron… Harry can be himself… not the Boy Who Lived… not the Great Harry Potter… … not anything but himself… just Harry,” explained Hermione, “That is what satisfies him… real friends…with real people… not a bunch of giggling twits who just want his fame.”

Sylvia lost her look of expectation and joined the others with expression of surprise but the not overlooking the insult either.

That said, Hermione swiftly picked up her bag and walked away while unable to hide a small smile of satisfaction. Rela quickly joined her but said nothing at first.

-Harry’s right,- thought Hermione as she walked away, -Everyone has some ridiculous idea of him… is there anyone who does care about the real him… no wonder he’s getting angry so easily… but lately he’s been so… subdued.-

“A knut for your thoughts,” asked Rela seeing a concerned look on Hermione’s face and adding, “Those girls just can’t stand competition from anyone.”

“It’s not them,” answered Hermione, quietly, “Its Harry… I just realize that something doesn’t seem right.”

“I know… Ron’s been telling me all about the different adventures you’ve all had in your time here,” replied Rela, “And this trouble with Malleck… and what it seems to have been doing to Harry.”

Hermione looked to Rela as they walked; curiosities clear in her face.

Rela interpreted the question in Hermione’s expression and answered, “Ever since Ron and I met… we’ve been getting to know each other… when he brought me your cat… I noticed he was being vague about things especially when he tried to explain why Crookshanks was hurt.”

“Why would he tell you and not me,” asked Hermione?

Rela hesitated a second then answered, “Because you’ve been going through something too… and Ron didn’t know how to talk to Harry about it… so he came to me.”

Hermione said nothing but continued to walk on and Rela added to her reply.

“We have the same Divination class… when things started to happen with Harry… and you… well one thing led to another and he started confiding everything to me… so yeah from the way Ron describes Harry, it’s obvious that Harry is acting different… Ron knows something is wrong… and I know I don’t him like you two but I sense something weird as well… I don’t know how but I get a funny feeling about it like… like a cold draft,” finished Rela.

Hermione stopped suddenly and Rela stopped a foot ahead of her.

“What is it,” asked Rela quietly, turning to see Hermione behind her, an expression of hinted anger and a kind of sadness.

“I… I had a talk with McGonagall,” responded Hermione, hesitantly,” About… about something that happened to me… she said I had been missing… things… but I thought that she meant homework… but lately… these weeks… and the other day in the corridor… he snapped when I mentioned… like he knew… but he can’t have… Ron may blurt things but he always keeps important promises… he wouldn’t have… but then why did Harry react to that?”

Rela didn’t respond to Hermione’s odd explanation, since it was more directed to herself than to Rela.

Instead Rela responded with, “How about we get the boys from the Great Hall and go some where else on our own? Then… you guys can talk.”

Hermione looked back with a smile and continued to walk on, “Not just us… you’re in this too now… I guess.”

However their plans were halted as they came upon an intense commotion at the entrance to the Great Hall. Many students were gathered around and all of them seemed excited by something. Hermione knew that McGonagall would disapprove of this chaos in the halls, so her duty as a Prefect became necessary.

Hermione shifted her bag and adjusted her uniform slightly, making sure that her badge was clear to see. That done she headed into the crowd, announcing her presence as a Prefect and Rela followed as best as she could.

Hermione made it through most of the crowd towards the center to see what was causing the commotion when she met the back of a large person with a furred cloak and a familiar accent.

“What is going on here,” demanded Hermione?

The large person turned and Hermione can face to face with a wizard with black hair and a long knapped black beard. The same wizard also had black beady eyes and hunch to his posture.

“Hello Herm-own-ninny,” greeted the wizard with a smirk.

The wizard… Victor Krum.

Krum began to walk towards her but Hermione stood in place. Krum had been wrong about Harry and that fact alone was all that kept her place. But it did not stop her from suddenly pulling her robes closer together and her body went tense, an act that did not go unnoticed by Rela and some others present.

A short distance away though, another group was observing the same scene…

“I can take him now,” stated Daken,” He’s on Hogwarts grounds… away from the protection of Bulgaria.”

“No,” replied Dumbledore, quietly but a hint of sternness in his voice, “Certain events must play themselves out before any intervention from us can be helpful.”

“What is that suppose to mean,” snapped Daken?

“She must face him,” explained McGonagall, a placid tone to her quiet and usually sharp voice, “She stands with her peers… fellow house members… friends… even having gained her answers from Harry… yet she just stands there… she’s still afraid of him… can’t even speak… if she doesn’t face it now… she’ll always be held back.”

Daken gave a snort of surrender but replied with, “She may not get a chance… since its already starting to get cold.”

Dumbledore said nothing but McGonagall could see worry in his smile as on a strange cue the temperature of the room dropped quickly.

The students around suddenly quieted as the change in temperature became apparent. The torches in the halls began to dim and Hermione felt her hair frizz slightly. Hermione turned as did others to see Harry descend the stairs towards the group with Ron only a step behind.

Something flashed in Harry’s eyes but he was too far away for Hermione to fully see it. The Hogwarts and Durmstrang students alike all seem to quiet themselves to whispers as Harry approached.

Rela watched and wondered, seeing as students moved to either side letting Harry through. At that moment, they all seemed afraid of him but Krum did not, rather he seem to expect Harry.

Harry walked up to Krum but rather than anything bad occurring as surrounding events normally indicated, he extended his hand with a smile.

“Hello Krum,” greeted Harry pleasantly, “I’m glad we’ll have a chance at each other… ever since I saw you play last summer, I wondered what it would be like to play you in Quidditch… so I’m really excited to face you in an exhibition match.”

Krum did something equivalent of a smile under his bristled knap of a beard as he took Harry’s hand in his own and replied with, “Yes… it vill be a very exciting day tomorrow… vor us all.”

A moment later, the students moved into the Great Hall but Hermione among a select few other girls did not. Ginny and Rela stood by as Hermione remained rooted to the same spot since meeting Krum. Hermione had paled and was trembling more so.

“Hermione,” inquired Ginny, quietly?

Hermione kept her gaze away from them, towards the floor.

“Hermione,” inquire Ginny again?

“I’m going back to my dormitory, “announced Hermione.

Hermione turned and nearly sprinted away, leaving the remaining girls to their derived opinions of the encounter.

“Now what,” asked Ginny, a note strong worry present in her voice?

A quick breeze blew through the hall and Rela turned around to face Ginny suddenly gasping suddenly and Ginny stared back at her.

“I don’t think will have to,” whispered Rela, her eyes wide as she stared past Ginny.

“Why,” began Ginny turning around as well to see behind her but stopped?

Both girls stood in the hall before the doors to the Great Hall to see Harry standing there, a strange look his face.

Harry said not a word but turned slowly back into the Great Hall. Ginny and Rela couldn’t help but notice that his hands were bawled to fists and white from being tensely clenched. Ginny privately noted that even though Harry was only a short distance away, she couldn’t see much bright green in his eyes.

Harry’s eyes are the key to him… you can tell if he’s angry or hurt just by looking at them.

Hermione’s words from the other day repeated in Ginny’s mind.

“They were dark,” she whispered.

“He’s planning something,” replied Rela.

With that Rela and Ginny went into the Great Hall.

Daken continued to stand in the side hallway watching the scene as it played out with Dumbledore and McGonagall standing by. But his attention changed as two more wizards approached. One Daken knew to be the new Headmaster of Durmstrang but the other couldn’t be who he thought it was, even though scent was too familiar.

“It can’t be,” whispered Daken, watching the wizard?

“Remember things are not what they may seem,” whispered Dumbledore, loudly.

The unknown wizard removed his furred cloak and hat to reveal long silvery blond hair. Daken knew of only one wizard with hair like that… Lucius Malfoy.

Daken moved fast and, without notice of most others, was behind Lucius in a second.

Lucius turned and smiled wickedly to Daken as he if expecting the meeting.

“Daken… what a surprise… I didn’t know you were teaching here,” greeted Malfoy in an obviously fake but humored tone, insult sewn into every syllable.

“What are you doing here,” growled Daken, seeing the furred cloak in Malfoy’s hand, “Have you been in Bulgaria?”

“Why… yes,” chuckled Malfoy, his sneering tone still the same, “I took holiday there previously in the summer… but after the horrible incident with the Museum… and the suggestion of the Quidditch game… I just knew I had to get involved… especially after everything dear Harry went through… and of course his… friends the pauper and… the muggle.”

Daken turned his view, looking through the opening to the Great Hall where Harry sat conversing from across Krum.

-The boy knows what happened… but he’s talking with him like there was nothing that happened… but why, - thought Daken?

He returned his attention back to Lucius Malfoy continuing his thoughts, -He said he’d been on holiday… previously… maybe before she came… then… it’s a setup… but how?-

Daken brought his wand into view but Lucius closed the space between them with a quick step, blocking Daken’s arm from aiming the wand.

“Careful now,” whispered Lucius, as other wizards were arriving from the staircase, “Don’t want to have to explain things… or reveal your true form… not yet anyways… not until the expected match is over… and the prize is won.”

Daken gripped his wand tightly, cracking his knuckles and glared at Lucius, growls held tight in his throat.

“What have you done,” quietly growled Daken?

Lucius’s face became a sculptured form of sinister expression yielding great devious joy and withheld secrets as his eyes glared with a sneering grin.

“I’ve just been… arranging things,” answered Lucius, a small growl in his voice now, “Wouldn’t want Malleck to have all the fun now would we… or rather… Markus... wasn’t it?”

“Damn,” whispered Daken as he moved his eyes to see into the Great Hall where Harry sat across from Krum, conversing.

Lucius turned away, saying nothing more and met with arriving wizards.

Dumbledore and McGonagall had left their spot in the background to join with the newly arrived wizards and Daken simply left.

The evening feast was consumed and in time, students left for their Houses. The Durmstrang students retired to their ship for the night.

Hermione had been in her dormitory since early the in evening. Prodding from Ginny or any of the other girls did nothing to sway her to leave or talk about anything outside of Hogwarts business.

However, late into the night, Hermione awakened to strange cold breeze in the room. Lavender and her other roommates seemed unaffected and the large bay window appeared to be closed. She looked around and nothing seemed out of order, even Crookshanks seemed to be snoozing soundly at the foot of her bed. Since she was suddenly awake, Hermione decided to take a bit of a walk around the common room. So she quietly slipped out from the covers and into her dressing robe, put on her slippers while heading out to the common room.

Hermione quietly shut the door to the girls’ dormitory, pausing briefly as Crookshanks appeared to exit whishing to follow her, and descended the stairs to the common room. However she soon discovered she was not the only person awake. She had only taken a few steps away from the foot of the stairs when she saw a figure sitting in the furthest plush chair away from her. The common room was all but completely dark as the only light present came from the moonlight shining in from the windows.

“Who,” began Hermione but realized the answer as the moonlight revealed a sparkling emerald green she recognized, “Is that you, Harry?”

“Yeah,” answered Harry.

“What are you doing,” she asked, as she approached?

Hermione got close enough to see Harry close a book in his lap and put a quill into an ink bottle on the side table.

“Writing in my journal,” answered Harry.

Hermione looked around a moment, seeing again as the room was dark. No fire, no candles, nothing but moon light from the windows, not to mention how cold it felt in the room even with the low temperatures of the castle at this time of year. Her dressing gown and slippers did little to resist the cold in the room.

“You should be in bed,” spoke Hermione, seeing her misty breathe, “You need your rest… you’re competing tomorrow.”

“Can’t sleep… guess I’m too anxious,” chuckled Harry, “What about you?”

“A cold draft woke me,” replied Hermione, “Guess I got a chill and just decided to walk a bit out here.”

After replying, Hermione notice something strange about the scene. Hermione realized she was in her sleeping attire covered in a dressing robe and with slippers on her bare feet but even though these items do little against the cold, Harry was dressed much the same except the cold did not appear to bother him while she shivered.

“Are you coming,” asked Harry, “To the game?”

Hermione shook her head, replying with, “No… I’m going to stay in the castle and watch… I’m a Prefect after all… I need to keep order for those students… who aren’t going or didn’t buy tickets… how was dinner?”

Harry seem to stare at her a second before he answered.

“The usual after all the excitement from Durmstrang’s arrival calmed,” answered Harry, “Even got to have a chat with Krum… seems he’s fancies a chance to chat with you again.”

Though her robe was tied tight already, she crossed her arms pulling the fabric tighter around herself. Harry didn’t miss a single move she made since he mentioned Krum’s interest in her.

“Aren’t you cold,” asked Hermione, seemingly changing the subject, “It’s freezing in here?”

“No,” answered Harry, standing up, leaving his journal behind in the chair.

Harry removed his own robe and covered Hermione with it. Harry stood in his pajamas, bare feet to the floor but all Hermione could do was blush to his gentlemanly act.

Do you think he vill suddenly vall in love vith you…

Think he vill suddenly say such a thing…

He vill do nothing…

Nothing you do vill get a reaction vrom him…

He vill choose someone appropriate…

Krum’s word etched across her mind like hard chalk against an old blackboard as Harry’s arms went around her, pulling the cloth of his robe to the front of her. Nothing in his actions resembled Krum’s words and she felt her heart beat quicken as a thought came to mind.

“Harry… I… I want to ask you something,” asked Hermione, her voice suddenly low?

Harry gave her a strange look, asking in return, “Why ask me if you can… just ask me whatever?”

“It’s not that simple,” she replied, fidgeting slightly.

“Well why not,” pushed Harry, “I don’t understand why you’re being like this… you’ve never had a problem saying or asking what you want… so why can’t it be simple?”

“That’s because I know what I was doing then,” snapped Hermione before softening, “I’ve… well I‘ve never done this before… so.”

She glanced at Harry before turning her vision away again but she had enough of a chance to see his eyes and expression of puzzlement.

“Alright… well… then,” stumbled Harry, his voice soft,” Take… your… time… I guess.”

Hermione dared to look at him again and saw Harry’s green eyes shiny brilliantly, more than what the moonlight could do. She felt confidence and resolve come as she looked into the eyes of Harry Potter. Emerald eyes that illuminated great strength, compassion and concern just looking to her in that moment while holding back so many secrets… and great pains.

“What do you think of… when… you look at me,” whispered Hermione?

Harry blinked a few times as the question sunk into his mind.

“I’m not sure,” he replied slowly, clearing his throat nervously, “I think all kinds of things… I’m not sure about all of it… I’ve… well I’ve stared… at you... a few times.”

Even in the strong cold and dim light of the room Hermione could see Harry begin to fidget and his face blush a serve shade of red. A physical response she easily interpreted to mean.

“And when I’ve stared… I sometimes… I begin to … to think about,” continued Harry clumsily before a hand touched his lips.

Harry directed his vision to see that Hermione had closed the gap between them almost instantly and had placed her hand to his lips, smiling.

She stepped closer to him, leaving barely enough room between them for wand. Harry felt the fabric covering her chest touch his own, causing his heart to rapidly almost instantly. A scent of flowers filled his lungs quickly and felt his legs begin to numb. She was right in front of him and showing no sign of moving away.

Hermione looked up at him, given that he was slightly taller, and Harry let his impulse take control as he felt him-self begin to lean forward.

His eyes closed and within a moment could feel Hermione’s breath on his face telling that was how far away she was now.

Harry was sure something was about to happen.

Suddenly a loud cat like hiss sounded along with a quick yelp and a thud.

Harry retracted him-self and heard Hermione mutter something under her breath.

He opened his eyes to see Hermione whirl around and both could see Crookshanks on the landing, its hair standing, hissing madly. A moment later a figure appeared from the ledge way wall and the moon light revealed enough for them to recognize Lavender. The nosy girl gave them a nervous smile and quickly retreated back to the girls’ dormitory.

Hermione turned around again and without warning kissed Harry’s cheek, letting part of her lips touch his in the action.

“Goodnight,” she said quickly, before dropping his robe to the floor, leaving and heading back to the girls’ dormitory.

He was so surprised by the whole moment that he just stood there.

Meanwhile Hermione stormed loudly into the girls’ dormitory, ignoring whether she woke anybody or not, slamming the door behind her. An action that made the remaining girls that had been asleep to awaken with a fright. Lavender stood a few feet away, a smirk evident on her face but vanished when Hermione expression locked on to her. The girls’ sat in confusion, asking sleepily what was happening but Hermione ignored them and advanced on Lavender.

“Well… it seems you and Harry,” began Lavender, sounding smug before Hermione cut her off.

“Prefect or not,” yelled Hermione, anger more than evident, “I have my limits… so keep that wart of nose out of my life… no spying... no lurking about around corners… no Tarot cards… no Divination at all… nothing period… or your going to need more than McGonagall to stop me from making my point any further… am I making myself perfectly clear!”

Lavender made a noise to resist but Hermione cut her off.

“Yes or no,” demanded Hermione?

Lavender took a quick glance from the corner of her eye to notice that the flowers on her night stand were blooming even at this time of night. All the girls felt a strange energy in the room and Lavender could see something in Hermione’s eyes that made the threat even stranger.

“Yes,” Lavender muttered.

Hermione swiftly turned and saying nothing more climbed back into bed, Crookshanks following as well.

Lavender took a moment to breath and headed back for her own bed. As she pulled the blankets onto herself, she happened to look out the bay window of their room and noticed that there were thick vines covering the large panes.

-Weird, - she thought before allowing sleep to hold.

The next morning, many found Dumbledore to have been right to cancel classes for the day as chaos consumed the school. Magical people from all over came to Hogwarts grounds, many of them a relation to a student. A good number of them an elite group of wizards and witches with heavier purses, happy to have that fact paraded around. Vendors were everywhere, apparently, at the permission of Dumbledore, selling everything from Bulgarian drinks to simple toys of Quidditch.

Some were there taking bets on the outcome of the game and many were placing their gold on the line.

Meanwhile the Hogwarts team was in the locker room preparing for the match.

Ron stood off to the side, leaning against a locker watching as Harry strapped up his Quidditch bracers.

Part of the conversation between Harry and Krum at yesterdays evening feast replayed in Ron’s mind.

Krum and Harry sat across from each other at the Gryffindor table at Harry’s request as they stepped into the Great Hall. As they had begun to sit down, prior to Dumbledore’s evening announcements of the next day’s class cancellations, eruptions of joy from the students and welcoming of Durmstrang, Harry excused him-self, stepping out of the Great Hall for a minute.

Ron took a moment to look Krum over, watching the wizard that had enraged Harry into a silent scheming frenzy these past two weeks. Victor Krum, the wizard that had harmed Crookshanks and then made an attempt to assault their friend, Hermione.

Ron could feel his own anger rise as that wizard sat with them, uncaring to the effects of his own desires on his friends. Ron could his body heat at his rising anger; he barely noticed that the pumpkin juice was stale to the taste having been suddenly heated even when taking a drink from the goblet.

He didn’t act on it knowing that Harry already had something in mind, so Ron just watched as the wizard clumsily shoveled food into his mouth, occasionally glancing about with his wide eyed look.

When Harry returned, he quickly launched into a conversation with Krum after that and Ron could easily see where it was leading.

“Can I ask you a personal question,” asked Harry casually changing the subject from past year’s events and to where Hermione was?

Krum shook his head and gave a grunt as he shoveled a large chunk of steak into his mouth.

“In Bulgaria… or really anywhere, “ began Harry, “Does it ever bother you the way people go on about you… like give things… or do stuff for you… or constantly make a big deal about you?”

“Of course not,” answered Krum, in an oddly nasty way.

Ron watched Harry give him a quick glance before looking back to Krum.

“I don’t like it,” replied Harry, somewhat loudly, “First day I was here… every one was staring or whispering about me… some would walk the halls and double back to past me again to see my scar… first years still do that.”

“So vhat,” shrugged Krum, giving Harry a quick wide eyed look, “Vhat does it matter how they act… use it to your advantage.”

“That’s just it,” responded Harry, “I don’t want to… I’d rather just be left alone or treated the same as everyone else.”

“Vhy vould you vant that,” snapped Krum, seemingly disgusted by Harry’s response?

Harry took a drink of pumpkin juice from his goblet and answered, “The people I lived with away from and before coming to Hogwarts use to watch me constantly… never giving me a moment’s peace... and I’ve seen what spoiled people are like... and what they try to get away with.”

At the last comment, Krum stared at Harry with his wide eyed stare, narrowing slightly as if judging to see if Harry’s last comment was meant as an insult. Harry didn’t look back at him but paid more attention to the food on his plate.

“Like my cousin,” added Harry quickly, shaking his head as he poked at mash potatoes, “My Aunt and Uncle give him anything he so much as sniffles about.”

Harry looked up at Krum, locking eye with him and finished with, “Now people treat me that here… and I don’t like it.”

“Vhy are you telling me this,” whispered Krum?

Harry kept their stare down alive and answered with, “Guess I thought we were a lot alike… but we’re actually quite different… what do you think… are there similarities between us?”

Krum looked away and answered with one last statement before the conversation ended, “There may be one or two things we haff similar interests in.”

Ron remember as Harry gave Krum a dark look before the evening feast finally ended with Krum following his team back to their ship and the Hogwarts students leaving for their Houses.

The conversation went no further between them but it was clear that the words said were not limited to the ears of the intended party as stares and whispers continued through the table.

Ron watched Harry finish the last strap on his bracers and stand to put on his coverlet. Before doing so, Harry pulled a tightly folded black cloth bundle from his bag as well as a familiar looking old parchment.

“What are you doing with those,” asked Ron?

Before Harry answered he put the items into a neatly and newly sewn pocket inside of his coverlet and put it on.

“Because Hermione’s not here at the field, “ answered Harry quietly but a slight dark tone, “With have three games to go through… and in case he decides to sit one out… I just want to be ready.”

“You really think he’ll try something here at Hogwarts,” inquired Ron?

Harry looked at his friend, responding darkly, “It doesn’t matter if he does or not… Krum won’t be leaving.”

Ron was responded before a yell was heard and a rude response came, “What you doing here… you’re not supposed to be seen?”

Harry turned and the two boys looked down the way to see the Slytherin beater yell at Dobby.

Dobby tried to respond with, “But Dobby is supposed to come… Dobby is needed.”

“Says who,” snapped the Slytherin?

Before Dobby could answer there was a loud slam of locker door and everyone turned to its direction.

“That would be me,” stated Harry then his voice became darker into a warning, “Now leave him alone.”

No one said anything more as the left for the field entrance and Dobby sprinted happily towards Ron and Harry.

Harry made ready to say something but Dobby perked up and stated in an oddly stern tone, “Dobby is ready.”

Ron hadn’t been told by Harry that Dobby had a part but as to what he never found out.

Rather than say anything, Harry gave the elf a smile and grabbed his broom.

They left elf behind for its task and joined the assorted team members at the locker exit to the field.

They all stepped onto the field and the crowd cheered as the announcer, Lee Jordan best friend to the Weasley twins, called attention to their arrival. The Durmstrang team was already lined up at the middle of the field awaiting the opposing team. They lined up across from Durmstrang, player to player according to position.

Announcements were made, the crowd continued their cheering excitement and Madam Hooch called for the players to mount; then take their positions.

Ron mounted his broom and as he headed for the Hogwarts goals but noticed that crowd began to go silent. A distance sound of thunder reached his ears and for the first time since stepping onto the field, Ron noticed dark clouds in the sky. They were spread out but there was enough to suggest a coming storm. He turned around on his broom to look back to see why the crowd still seemed so quiet and found his answer.

Krum and Harry still stood on the ground, facing each other, having done nothing.

It seemed a stand off to who would move first and neither seemed ready to relent.

Madam Hooch floated a short distance away from them but she called out and said for them to take positions.

Ron watched as they both mounted their brooms and floated up past the chasers and Madam Hooch awaiting to release the Quaffle.

Just before Madam Hooch released the Quaffle, Harry gave one last statement.

“No mater what happen Krum,” stated Harry, “You get away from me.”

With that Madam Hooch released the Quaffle, the chasers went forth and the game began.

Elsewhere Hermione stood in the back of the Great Hall watching the game start, contemplating why Harry and Krum had a stand off.

A giant mist at the front of the Hall was displaying the game from the announcer’s seat and Lee Jordan’s voice filled the hall.

The Chasers are off and Hogwarts has the Quaffle first.

And here come the Bludgers.

From the mist Hermione could see that Harry wasn’t even looking for the snitch, instead he only watched Krum.

Time went by and the students in the Great Hall responded to called fouls, executed plays and the scoring of points.

The one thing everyone found odd was that Krum and Harry still stay in the same spot. The game had gone on a while now but the snitch never seemed to appear.

So far the score is fifty to ten in favor of Hogwarts and still no sign of the Snitch… someone check to make sure it was actually released.

Hermione agreed it was strange that the Snitch had still not appeared but what made her nervous was that the Bludgers had not come near the Seekers. Usually Harry had trouble with Bludgers even when they’re not enchanted to act otherwise.

Then there was a flash of gold between them and both seekers took off after it.

The crowd roared with excitement and announcer focused on the Seekers rather than the Quaffle.

That was when Hermione along with most everyone watched the game take a new violent turn.

Harry trailed Krum only by a short distance as Krum raced the Snitch around the field.

The intensity of the crowd shifted as Krum reached for the Snitch and by a surprise of speed, Harry was beside him. Rather then reach for the Snitch him-self, Krum saw in the corner of his eye as gave him a smirk and slammed into him. An action that caused Krum hit the stone wall hard.

Krum regained his balance and his composure quick. He made ready to take chase after Harry for the Snitch only to find Harry hovering in front of him.

The crowd quieted at the sight and Madam Hooch came to them.

Before she said anything, Harry spoke up, “Lost the Snitch in the commotion… you alright?”

Krum gave a grunt while keeping his wide eyed star on Harry in an angered fashion.

Madam Hooch left and the Krum took off with Harry in tow.

Ron had a hard time following the game as it seemed that two different games were going on.

The Chasers sent the Quaffle about as it exchanged possession and went to the goals.

The other game seemed to be between the Seekers. The Snitch would appear and they’d chase after it but it was clear to even a novice of Quidditch watchers that Harry wasn’t going after the Snitch. Instead he use any and every opportunity to injure Krum even if it meant hurting him-self. After nearly an hour, both Harry and Krum were covered with dirt, their uniforms smeared with grass stains and tears all over from hitting the stone of the field walls.

Both were battered and bruised, to the surprise of some, the crowd was enjoying it.

It was more of a duel between Krum and Harry than a Quidditch game.

In the Great Hall, ignoring her duty as a Prefect Hermione became increasingly worried at the fact that the Bludgers had still not come near them.

A time out was called and the teams were gathered to give them a chance to exchange players.

“Why won’t you get the snitch,” barked the Slytherin beater as he came onto the field to replace a worn out Ravenclaw beater?

“It’s not against the rules to not get the Snitch,” responded Ron, “Or for the Seekers to have it out.”

“Well we’re not all like you,” continued the Slytherin, “Some of us are human… and can’t play forever!”

Ron didn’t like what was said but Harry intervened before Ron did anything.

“You’re right,” said Harry in a oddly calm voice, “Can’t drag this out forever.”

He turned away from them and mounted his broom, flying off.

The game started a moment later.

Within a few minutes the Snitch appeared again and Krum chased after it with Harry giving chase.

Krum watched for Harry to make a move but didn’t.

Instead Krum reached for the Snitch and just before he made his grab for it, waiting for Harry to come up beside him or underneath or from some direction as he had been doing.

The crowd roared and Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Hogwarts student and fans alike along with Hermione and Ron sat stunned as Krum landed on the field with the Snitch in hand. He looked behind him to see Harry hovering a distance away, a smug smile in place.

Hermione could see a close up of Harry’s face on the mist in the Great Hall as the Lee Jordan, still in surprise himself, announced that Durmstrang had won the first game. Madam Hooch announced a ten minute break for the teams.

-Harry… what are you up to, - thought Hermione frantically?

She barely noticed that Neville was tapping her shoulder, trying to get her attention. Hermione turned and Neville handed her a small, beautifully wrapped box.

Hermione wasn’t sure what to say so she started to respond with, “Thank you but.”

Neville cut off, blushing furiously, “It’s not from me… I… I had to go back to the dormitory and as I left, I saw this on the table with your name on it.”

“Okay,” said Hermione as she began to open it.

Neville stood in place looking at the package as she opened it.

Hermione looked at him and said as kindly as she could,” Do you I think I could have a little privacy?”

Neville blushed again but shook his head and walked quickly away.

Hermione opened the box and pulled out a small glass sphere. At first it didn’t seem to do anything.

She stopped examining it as Lee Jordan announced the start of the second game.

The players took their positions and the Quaffle was released. Everyone expected another long drawn game but was given quite a surprise.

The Chasers reprised the roles of quarreling for the Quaffle and the beaters sent the Bludgers back and forth across the field.

The Snitch appeared much sooner this time and the Seekers went after it. The crowd began to hold their breath in anticipation of another clash between the Seekers.

Instead the most unexpected event occurred, before the Quaffle had made it through a single goal, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and announced the game over.

The crowd, the Great Hall, the players, even Lee Jordan was speechless as Harry stood on the field with the Snitch in hand and Krum hovering hardly a distance from the Seeker starting point.

Students began to give their responses to the shocking event.

That game didn’t even last two minutes.

If Harry could move that fast, why didn’t he get the snitch the first time?

Do you think it’s something personal from the tournament?

No… its Harry… he’s making it more interesting for us all.

Yeah now it’s a nail bitter to see who’ll really win.

These comments and more Hermione heard in the Great Hall as she stared at Harry’s dirty battered form smiling away, gripping the glass sphere in her hand.

Harry looked to Krum and Krum stared back with his wide eyes.

“Vell done,” sneered Krum, across the field, landing, “But the real prize vill be mine.”

Harry didn’t respond but he lost his smile and he released the Snitch from his hand for the final game.

Harry made to mount his broom again when a horrid scream sounded and he turned to see a Bludger smash into Krum’s back, sending to the ground.

Everyone grasped at the unexpected blow and Pomfrey came across the field to check on Krum.

Hermione watched the Bludger strike as well from the Great Hall. She started feel slightly amused by it until she felt strange suddenly. Hermione began to have trouble focusing and when she brought hands up, she remembered the clear glass sphere in her hand. Only now it was emitting an orange glow. Hermione was about to speak out but everything went dark.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

The next thing Hermione felt was numbing cold running through body. She started to move and felt herself on hard cold stone. She started to open her eyes to find herself in a dark room. It was void of any kind of furniture or anything but dust and plant life. Hermione began to sit up to see there were vines all over the ceiling and on areas of the walls. These were vines that, over the years, had crawled up the side of the castle and eventually broken into this room, spreading out.

Hermione moved her hand and felt something roll away. She looked down to

find the glass sphere, now clear again, roll slowly away.

“Interesting toy is it not,” grunted a voice nearby, “Has more than one purpose?”

Hermione turned and in the corner she could she Krum, leering at her with his wide eyed stare.

She stood as quick as she could and took a few steps away, reaching into her robes for her wand.

“Looking vor this,’ asked Krum?

In his hand he held up her wand and made to make another smile.

Krum began to walk forward and Hermione backed away. When Krum reached the sphere he picked it up. He tapped it with his own wand and Lee Jordan’s voice flowed from it.

Durmstrang’s replacement Seeker is after the Snitch with the Hogwarts Seeker right behind him. Who would have thought it would have come to this folks. We were all enjoying that spectacular bout between Potter and Krum but I guess we’ll have to wait another day for them have at it again. Such a shame that Bludger took Krum out just went it got down to the nitty gritty of it all.

The final game…

The deciding game…

With the score currently thirty to zero in favor of Hogwarts…

“No ve have a chance to pick up vhere ve left off,” sneered Krum, “And ve can still hear the outcome of the game.”

Hermione continued to back up until she was stopped by a wall with Krum continuing to advance.

She couldn’t move back any further or anywhere because she couldn’t find the will to do so. Everything was the same again, he had chased her down, trapped her and she didn’t have her wand again… like the past was replaying itself.

Hermione didn’t know what do, she couldn’t think but she Krum walking towards her.

“Vill I need to use my vand again,” chuckled Krum, “Or vill you accept your place?”

Hermione could feel herself begin to panic as a fierce cold draft surged by her from an opening made by the vines.

The sudden distraction caused her mind to flash back over the summer and the term.

Do you think that he vill vant a thing like you… a gangly mud blood.

Harry was starring at her when they came back from Diagon Alley.

I don’t need to know him… ve are the same kind of person… popular…respected… vorshiped… you are just simply… useful…

I guess I have been useful enough….

Don’t ever say that about your-self…

He vill do nothing… just treat you the same as alvays… you vatch… nothing you do vill get a reaction vrom him… ”

Harry blasted those wizards away in Hogsmeade when one pushed her.

Harry put his robe around her when she cold.

His eyes they darken… become less green when he lies… and they brighten when he says something… important.

You’re beautiful… I don’t think… I know it.

The panic faded and fear drained away…

The cold seemed like nothing now and a strange strength grew within…

Hermione’s breathing slowed as did her heart beat…

She felt calm again but tense… angrily tense.

Krum now stood a step from her, his expression filled with the confidence of victory.

“No,” stated Hermione quietly.

“Vhat,” chuckled Krum, “Did you vhimper something?”

“I said… no,” stated Hermione loudly and fiercely stern,” My place… has nothing to do with you.”

“You may vant to rethink that,” growled Krum.

Hermione looked him straight in the eye, her own anger ending the fear he caused in her.

“You were wrong about Harry and you were really wrong about me,” spoke Hermione in a dangerous tone,” I may not be the most fun to be around… but Harry and Ron still involve me… I may not have been their first choice for a friend in the beginning but not every beginning is smooth.”

Every word she spoke caused a strange feeling to grow within her. Like a seed taking root and spreading through her form. She didn’t remember being afraid or worried anymore, now she was only disgusted and growing with anger.

“I may not be able to beat you,” she growled, “But I will never give my self to scum of rat dung.”

Krum became silently furious but his expression gave it away.

“So famous… girls must fling themselves at you,” chuckled Hermione angrily,” But its not satisfying is it? You need to be in control but itd not the same when your adoring fans just give themselves without resistance… you need it to be fun… you sick… demented… disgusting… disgrace of a wizard.”

Hermione felt something move behind her like a snake… or vines.

Before Hermione could continue to feel what was moving behind her or say anything more, shear pain lashed across her face and she fell to the floor.

Hermione’s face stung badly as she regained her senses on the floor, tasting a thick fluid in her mouth, mostly likely blood.

It took a moment but she realized that Krum had struck her.

“Ve vill see how smart mouthed you are vhen I am done vith you,” growled Krum.

Hermione looked up to see Krum aim his wand. Krum made ready to say his spell and from the color of the glow, Hermione guessed which one it’s was.

“You’ll never have me,” she snapped, fighting the pain in her face.

She trembled slightly, barely noticing as her hair began to frizz.

“Vhy not… is Potter going to rescue you now,” mocked Krum, a glow building on the tip of his wand,” Be your hero?”

He gave a nasty chuckle and Hermione waited. Krum pointed his wand only to see the impending spell vanish.

The doors to the room burst open and a dark voice with a low hiss in its words said, “Something like that.”

Krum turned suddenly.

“Vho is there,” yelled Krum, surprised.

“I said you wouldn’t get away from me,” said that same voice.

Hermione leaned forward, looking past Krum in time to see a pair of flashing eyes appear in the darkness. Only this time the pupils of this person were glowing solid red as the same color lightening flashed around them.

“Potter,” spoke Krum?

A blast sounded and Hermione saw in an instant as the room lit up while Krum was flung from his position into the wall a short distance from her.

Harry form appeared as a cloth slid off of him onto the ground. Harry had removed the Hogwarts Quidditch coverlet but remained in the rest of his game clothes.

The room seemed to freeze almost instantly and slight sunlight dimmed even more to make the room even darker.

Hermione glanced through the windows to see outside and see the dark storm clouds, quickly overtaking the skies, a growing rumble of thunder reaching her ears.

“You really think I was going to give you another chance at her,” sneered Harry as Krum began to stand, raising his wand again?

As soon as Krum stood another blast sounded and Krum once again was flung from his position only this time towards his side, slamming hard side ways first to a spot on another wall.

“I told you we were different… I believe in my friends and they’re more important to me then those mindless bloody idiots out there… that you seem to enjoy,” sneered Harry further, his dark voice almost hissing now.

Krum, amazingly still conscious, reach into his robes and pulled out a vial which he promptly through at Harry.

Harry didn’t move or do anything to stop the vial as it hit him. In an instant Harry’s skin turn a strange color and Hermione recognized it to be a paralytic potion.

Krum began to chuckle and Hermione was still on the floor, overwhelmed for the moment by the events playing out.

“Was that suppose to do something,” sneered Harry’s voice again?

Hermione, along with Krum as he turned his batter head, watched Harry’s skin change back, the effects of the potion reversing.

Krum began to stand again and Harry advanced.

“You really think you can do anything you want without regard because of little bit of fame… you chase a damn ball around… that’s nothing compared to me… and I’m going to make you understand that,” growled Harry.

Krum raised his wand again but before any could be done, Harry said something in Parseltongue and Hermione watched as Krum’s wand changed to the color of gray and fell apart as ash.

Krum stared at his hand as ash remnants of the wand laid in his palm.

“Let me show you why I’m should be feared,” spoke Harry quietly, raising his hand, finishing with,” Accio.”

Krum suddenly slid across the floor on the heels of his shoes, stopping only when Harry hand was on Krum’s chest.

Harry said something again in Parseltongue and Krum let of a horrid scream. His skin began to glow red as streaks of red lightening appeared across his body emanating from Harry’s hand.

Though it only lasted a moment in reality, to Hermione it seemed much longer as the shock of Harry’s actions and the scene in general still kept her mesmerized.

Harry pulled his hand back and another blast sounded again only larger as Krum flew backward. However instead slamming into the wall again, he went through it into the next room.

Krum moved slightly, groaning in great pain as a dark chuckled filled the room.

“What’s the matter... isn’t this fun for you,” yelled Harry, eyes still the same if not flashing more, “Or is it you only play when it’s an underage witch?”

-He does know, - gasped Hermione!

Another blast sounded again but rather than hit Krum, it cause more of the wall to violently break apart, revealing more of the next room.

“I guess I’m not clear on the rules,” yelled Harry again, advancing, “Lets see… how did you do it again… oh yes… chase your victim down like animal… overpower them… weaken them to nothing… and lets not forget the removal of the wand… what’s left?”

Harry stormed through the larger opening in the wall and gripped Krum’s robes, hoisting the larger wizard to his feet with ease.

“I think I remember,” whispered Harry loudly, “Do what you wish right… well you’re not a girl… so I don’t think I can do the same thing… but I do have another idea.”

With that yet another blast sounded, smaller, less powerful but enough to send Krum against the far wall.

Advancing slowly, Harry’s hands were clenched into fist and a green sparking glow filled in them.

Running footsteps could be heard but Harry ignored them until a hand touched his shoulder and Harry turned see Hermione behind him.

“Don’t this,” spoke Hermione, her voice soft.

Harry whirled around, facing her, responding angrily, “Why the hell not… this bastard attacked you!”

Hermione tried to stay calm but now Harry was scarring her.

“I didn’t want Ron to tell you anything,” began Hermione before Harry cut her off.

“Ron didn’t tell me a damn thing,” yelled Harry,” I saw it all!”

“What,” replied Hermione stunned?

“I saw it all,” growled Harry, not yelling,” I heard it all… I could even smell his breath… I could feel his weight on you… I felt him… touching you.”

Hermione gasped as nightmare replayed quickly in her mind, realizing now that for some time Harry had known and apparently planned on this fight.

“And he did it… he did it… because… because,” stuttered Harry, his tone darkening again, turning slowly back to Krum, “Because you’re my friend... because I feel.”

Hermione just stared at Harry’s twitching form but he didn’t finish what the sentence just turned around again.

“Now I’m going to make him realize what I think of that,” said Harry.

“No,” stated Hermione sternly.

Harry looked back to her to see a stern face and stature on the girl who stirred his feelings in more ways then he understood.

“You are going to stop and leave this to Dumbledore,” stated Hermione, her tone still stern.

“He deserves,” snarled Harry but he was cut off.

“What he deserves is not for you to decide or do anything about,” continued Hermione, “You’ve stopped him now and that’s enough… now the Professors will handled it.”

Harry’s anger was diminishing slowly but not enough for Hermione. His eyes still glowed and flashed red.

“Why would you want,” asked Harry stopping, unable to finish the question because of his confusion?

Hermione stepped forward suddenly and placed her hands on Harry’s face.

“I don’t want you to become like him,” she shouted, “He’s not worth his weight in dragon dung… but you’re greater than any spell or treasure of gold… you’ll lose that if you go any further!”

Harry’s breathing slowed rapidly and red in his eyes began to dim, showing green again.

“You said you felt everything that was happening,” she snapped, “But you only felt what was happening on the outside… not what I felt within me.”

Harry’s hands unclenched and sparking green glow was gone.

“No matter what happened, I was able to finally realize how I feel… how I feel about you,” said Hermione, her tone starting to soften,” Thank you for stopping him… but please stop yourself now.”

The thunder heard out side faded and sunlight began to slowly filter into the room.

“I should have just told you,” continued Hermione, pleading, “Then so much could have been avoided… and we… we could’ve… we can still have something wonderful… but you have to stop.”

The cold in the room faded as well and she could see Harry calm again.

“I still don’t know how to say or do anything… so,” finished Hermione as she pulled Harry to her, matching the direction of his lips to her own.

There came the sound of click and a slow scraping noise which Harry’s mind snapped to. A sound he had heard before… with the Dursleys… when Aunt Petunia was in the kitchen.

Harry’s eyes went wide, he knew what that was and with little time to do much, Harry shoved Hermione backward suddenly before he action could be completed, turning himself to face Krum who had risen to his feet.

Krum lunged forth and connected with Harry.

Hitting the stone floor hard and confused, Hermione looked back.

The scene explained much and horrified her as well, seeing as the two boys stood close. Harry stumbled back, falling to the floor with one hand on his midsection. In the dim light, Hermione could see blood dripping from a thin silver object still in Krum’s hand.

A silver knife in hand… that dripped with blood.

Harry’s face contorted with intense pain and Krum seemed sickeningly pleased.

Hermione scrambled to Harry’s side and placed her hand on his wound.

The blade had struck deep into Harry’s stomach area, no doubt to her that this was a wound that was severe in its strike and causing great pain.

“Now… vor you,” stated Krum hoarsely?

“You,” whispered Hermione angrily.

In that moment as she looked at the pain in Harry’s face, seeing the blood pool around her hand remembering how once he had saved her at his expense, not just once as prior feeling return intensifying quickly.

Anxiety, fear, worry, confusion and much more she felt fade as something surged in her.

“I stopped Harry from killing you and then you do this,” she growled as gripped the wound tighter, feeling something in her hand.

Her anger growing, she didn’t notice as the bleeding stopped and Harry’s face showed less pain, but she stood up and turned to Krum… facing him.

Krum just chuckled until he looked at Hermione’s eyes… as they began to glow bright as well.

“I have had it with you,” she snapped.

Though injured and weakened he made another sluggish lunged attempt towards her this time.

She dodged him easily and now they’re positions had switched. Hermione stood in front of the wall and Krum’s back was to the opening.

“You haff no escape vrom me,” he said in madden tone.

Hermione just glared at him and Krum made another attack. As he moved forward, he found himself held back as objects wrapped around his arms and legs with the sound of whips cracking through the air. Krum looked down and to either side to see vines had ensnared themselves around his ankles and wrists.

“More like you won’t escape me,” retorted Hermione her tone dangerous.

Krum found himself being dragged backwards. He looked behind him to see that vines that had gripped him originated from within the other room from the wall they had grown upon. In a short time, the vines dragged their prey all the way that to their wall. Given his drastically weakened and injured state, he could offer no resistance to the warden plants.

“Now vhat,” he demanded?

Hermione just gave him a smirk and in a quick move, delivered to Krum the loudest, hardest strike from her hand she could muster. It was enough to knock him unconscious and force his mouth and nose to bleed.

“That… you lecherous slime,” she finished.

Her task finished, Hermione ran back to Harry, who surprisingly was beginning to sit up while still dazed.

She didn’t wait but pushed him back down and pulled his shirt away. Rather than find a dangerous, penetrating wound she found nothing but dried blood. His knife wound had been healed but how she didn’t know.

Hermione heard footsteps and a familiar voice ring out.

“What the hell happened in here… looks like brawl or something,” said a voice Hermione recognize Daken.

At that moment Hermione took a look around to see as areas of the walls were damaged as Harry had smashed Krum into them. Then there was the dividing wall which had all but been destroyed.

Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Daken come into view a moment later.

With a look from Dumbledore, Snape and Daken went to release Krum from his imprisonment in the vines.

McGonagall took over checking Harry and Dumbledore stood by saying nothing.

“Bloody hell,” shouted another familiar voice, “I knew I needed to get here.”

A second later Ron appeared and Hermione was grateful to have everyone there.

Harry was becoming more alert and began to look around frantically.

“I took care of him,” Hermione said quietly to him, motioning to where Krum was.

Harry looked at him but rather then be glad it was all over he jumped up and looked around even more so.

A second later he rushed out of room, passing everyone even Ron. Harry ran out of the room, grabbing the cloak on the floor before heading out.

Ron looked back in confusion as Hermione stood surprised herself.

“Harry wait,” yelled Hermione, shaking her-self awake.

Hermione rushed past everyone, through the doors and into the connecting hall but Harry was not to be seen. The hall split in three directions and Hermione had no clue in what way to go but as she considered an option, McGonagall appeared behind her.

“Ms. Granger,” gently spoke McGonagall, “Please return to our common room.”

Hermione turned to, preparing to resist but Ron showed up as well.

“I’ll find him,” said Ron before taking off.

“Okay,” replied Hermione, though wanting to say more.

Instead she left as well, making her way back to Gryffindor house while the past events settle in her mind.

“Surprising, she didn’t let Potter kill him,” said a low voice behind McGonagall, “I would have thought she might want that…. Harry seemed to?”

McGonagall turned her head enough to see Daken emerge along with Dumbledore.

“Not at all,” answered Dumbledore, “It’s just not her way… the Way of Earth.”

Next Chapter

The Untold Story

21. The Untold Story

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: There will seem like there are parts that were left out, admittedly it was done so on purpose.

Most of a week needs to go by so it may seem a little choppy.

I don’t know where the offices of the professors are so I’m guessing they’re connected to the classroom they teach in.

It may be selfish to say again but I really would like to ask for more reviews.

Revised 5/13/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 21

The Untold Story

The whispers started along with the stares since stepping into the common room of Gryffindor tower. Talk of the game had not ended but calmed a little in intensity among the older students as Hermione came into view.

She paid no attention to it at all but walked slowly in and up to a window on the far side of the room, distracting thoughts evident in her expression while passing by.

It was clear to the present peers that something had happened, as Hermione walked by with her uniform smeared with dirt and grime, her long hair a tangled bushy mess covering a slightly paled face. They couldn’t help but notice their prefect’s one cheek bore a deep swelling bruise and a bit of dried blood at the corner of her mouth. Something had happened and there was no end to their imaginative guesses. Still though, Hermione gave no heed to them as her mind consumed all thoughts and attention.

She stared out the window seeing the view of the snow covered grounds, the lake baring floating heaps of ice and the trees as the limbs bent to the weight of the snow. Looking out but not seeing as the memories replayed in her mind of Harry’s assault on Krum.

You really think I was going to give you another chance at her…

I told you we were different…

They’re more important to me then those mindless bloody idiots out there…

-He couldn’t have been playing Quidditch in the third game, -she thought, -He can be fast but not that fast… must have let him-self be replaced… but by who?-

I saw it all… I heard it all… I could even smell his breath… I could feel his weight on you… I felt him… touching you…

-Everything Krum did enraged him,- her thoughts continuing, -And planned all that to get him… that’s not exactly doing nothing.-

Now I’m going to make him realize what I think of that…

-He did all that, - her thoughts dwelling on a conclusion, -For me.-

Hermione thoughts ended as a hand gripped her shoulder and pulled her around.

She ended up facing Ginny and Maylen.

“What happened to you,” question Ginny quiet loudly, following an expression of shock and concern?

Maylen had a cloth and a bottle with a potion swirling lightly within. She too seemed worried but oddly watchful, saying nothing at first.

“What,” replied Hermione, a bit dazed from the sudden spin?

“Your clothes… your hair,” continuing Ginny, “That nasty mark on your face… something happened and I want to know what?”

“Just an incident with Harry,” answered Hermione simply, the daze clearing.

Ginny didn’t take the answer so simply but rather quite angrily, “Harry did that?”

Maylen’s worried face became sullen at Ginny’s question but she still said nothing.

Hermione finally snapped to reality, touching her face lightly and quickly answered, “Oh no Harry didn’t do this… someone else did… but Harry… he handled it.”

“Maybe we should move this to a more private place,” stated Maylen plainly as a quick glance from corner of her eye showed many interested individuals?

Hermione didn’t protest as Ginny practically pushed her towards the girls’ dormitory.

Ginny calmed down having heard that Harry had not harm Hermione and it gave Ginny the patience to wait as Hermione chose to change her clothes first.

Maylen continued her sullen expression while waiting with Ginny on one of the beds.

Hermione took a seat across from them while pulling her hair out from underneath the clean blouse and other two couldn’t help but notice a pleased expression on her face.

Rather than say anything, Hermione picked up a brush and began untangling the messy long hair but Ginny didn’t like her quiet attitude.

“Are going to tell us or not,” yelled Ginny?

Hermione looked at her then looked to the door.

Ginny waved her wand, casting the charm to keep sound locked within the room.

Hermione looked at them, wondering slightly to Maylen’s sullen expression but unable to miss the quiet but dwindling patience in Ginny.

Hermione went into the story… of the time in Bulgaria… some of things she felt during the term… and the enraged skirmish between Harry and Krum.

“So after you tried to follow Harry out… then what,” asked Ginny as the Hermione finished?

“That’s it,” answered Hermione, setting down the brush, “When I got out into the corridor Harry was gone… and Ron went to find him since McGonagall told me to come here.”

“I know you follow rules and all… but I can’t believe you’d just let Harry go off like that,” inquired Ginny?

“I guess I’m still letting everything set in,” answered Hermione, “It was all just so… so much… I was trapped… scarred… then I wasn’t… I remembered what happened… and things changed… I changed… but before I could do anything further… Harry showed up.”

Ginny didn’t miss as Hermione’s eyes became more distant with a small smile on her lips.

-Is Hermione really, - thought Ginny,-Oh my, she must be… that’s the same look.-

“We should clean that up,” spoke Maylen suddenly, her voice plain and appearance still sullen, “Its swelling… it’ll just hurt more soon.”

Maylen opened the bottle and poured some of the contents onto the accompanied cloth.

Hermione placed her hand on the swelling cheek, wincing slightly to the touch.

“No… I want to keep it,” replied Hermione, quietly, “I want to it to keep hurting.”

“Why,” scoffed Ginny quite surprised but disapproving of the choice?

“Even if it’s not permanent,” spoke Hermione, her tone heightening and intensifying, “It’ll be like… my own scar… a reminder.”

Ginny just stared as Hermione looked at them, a strange anger in her eyes.

“A reminder that no one decides anything for me… not my future… not my place,” spoke Hermione slowly with a darkening tone, “I decide for myself… and what I want.”

Ginny wasn’t sure how or why but the room felt different, not cold as it can be with Harry, rather a strange feeling… not uninviting… a feeling of warning. It reminded her of times in the woods when all would become quiet, not even the sound of a cricket could be heard. Almost as if something might happen, like a warning, but not a feeling to leave.

-What is going on with everyone? Hermione… Harry… things are all weird… even Ron seems different, - thought Ginny, remembering the incident with Ron and the falling platter?

Maylen closed the potion bottle and stood up, heading for the door, saying nothing in the process.

“Maylen, “inquired Hermione suddenly snapping out her previous thoughts?

Maylen gripped the door handle and held it in mid turn.

“I’m glad… Harry came for you,” spoke Maylen plainly, no emotion to her voice, “You’re worth saving… unlike… others I suppose.”

Before an n inquiry could uttered; Maylen opened and stepped out, shutting the door behind her with a bit of a slam.

“What was that suppose to mean,” asked Ginny?

“The library, “whispered Hermione, “A while ago, Maylen was giving some advice about… well about boys… to some girls near me… and she told them a little bit about one who… apparently was very bad to her.”

“How does that apply to you,” added Ginny?

“Maybe she waited,” answered Hermione, “For someone to find her?”

The two girls sat in silence for a moment and Hermione stood, picking up a fresh robe from her trunk when a thought crossed her mind while putting it on.

-The invisibility cloak, - she thought, -Harry seemed to appear when the doors burst open… something fell off of him… he must have had the cloak.-

“Ginny was Harry in the last game,” asked Hermione?

Ginny looked at her and shook her head replying with, “No… he started to… but after the Bludger knocked Krum out… there was a ten minute break… Dobby brought out goblets of pumpkin juice for everybody… but when the game started again with the Durmstrang second Seeker… Harry passed out a few minutes into the game… Madam Hooch halted everything and Harry was taken away by Dobby on a stretcher… the second Seeker for Hogwarts came out and everything went on… I suppose, like everybody, I thought Harry had just become too exhausted… now I know otherwise.”

“Who was the other Seeker,” continued Hermione inquiries, straightening the robes?

Ginny hesitated and then smiled when she answered, “Only the last person on Earth Ron would ever choose… Draco Malfoy.”

Hermione stared at Ginny in surprise as she realized that Harry had given up a chance to beat another school at Quidditch for her safety. Realizations that worried her but stirred a happy flutter within as well.

A moment later the door to the dormitory opened and McGonagall stepped in.

“Ms. Granger,” spoke McGonagall quietly, “I need you to come with me now.”

Hermione said nothing but indicated her understanding with a nod and followed the Professor out of Gryffindor tower, still ignoring the whispers around them.

As they walked the corridor, nothing was said but Hermione had a pretty good idea to where this was all leading as their silent travel took them too the corridors leading to Dumbledore’s office.

Professor McGonagall went in first and Hermione followed through to find Harry and Ron already there standing in the middle of the room.

Before she could speak, Harry turned and she could tell that his eyes had locked onto the bruised swelled cheek her face displayed. Though he said nothing, Harry’s expression became an angry scowl when he saw the remnants of Krum’s handiwork still evident in Hermione’s features.

“Hermione would you please come closer,” asked Dumbledore sitting at his desk?

Hermione walked past Harry and he followed her every move, almost as though he were waiting for another sign of injury.

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair and opened a drawer in his desk. He placed a cloth covered object on the corner edge of the desktop.

“I believe you are familiar with this,” answered Dumbledore as he removed the cloth cover?

Dumbledore revealed a pensieve, the very same Harry had seen a year ago that showed the start to the fall of the Crouch family.

“What can that prove,” asked Ron?

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair, picking up his wand as well.

“Memories can be erased… altered… even implanted,” responded Dumbledore, “But original pensieves like this one… can filter out such things… and show the truth.”

The question answered, Dumbledore reached over and dipped his wand into the pensieve. He began to whisper something as he stirred the magic item like a cauldron. A mist began to form above it and Dumbledore removed the wand.

“Now together… we shall see what was done… to Krum that made him do this heinous act.”

The mist grew and rose above the pensieve.

Hermione recognized it to the same as in the Great Hall during the Quidditch game.

Within moments, it had grown to fairly large size and began to swirl in the center. Soon colors filled the swirling mist and painted scene that began to play out.

It was dimly lit but a large looking room with many tables. Some of them had groups of people, others with couples and a few with only one person. Dull music played in the background, as many unclear voices filled the room.

A man came into view, saying something in Bulgarian to Krum and set down a large mug in front of him. Other mugs were already on the table, turned over or lay out on their sides. It didn’t much for everyone watching to realize that the scene was some pub in Bulgaria and Krum had been drinking heavily.

For the first few minutes of time passing, people came and went, all in various stages of the influence.

But it wasn’t long before the answer they sought arrived.

“Ah… Mr. Krum,” spoke an unseen wizard, baring a familiar voice, from behind, “I heard that you made steady visits here and I had hoped to have the pleasure of a chance meeting.”

“Vho are you,” snapped Krum?

The unknown wizard came around Krum’s side and pulled the opposing chair out, taking an uninvited seat. Two other wizards came to either side of him, apparently having accompanied the wizard.

The candle light from the table illuminated the wizard’s face, revealing his identity.

“The name is Malfoy, “answered the wizard strangely pleasant, “Lucius Malfoy.”

“I’ve heard of you,” slurred Krum.

“Oh that’s good… my reputation has preceded me to even here, “replied Lucius.

The man from before appeared and left again in quite a hurry again as Lucius whispered something to the man’s ear. But it wasn’t more than a minute before he had returned, placing another ale and a brandy glass of red liquid on the table.

“In honor of meeting you I’ve decided to pay your tab,” announced Lucius, as he handed a small cloth bag to the man.

“Vhat do you vant,” snapped Krum?

Lucius took a sip from his brandy glass, giving an acted sigh of disapproval and playful resentment.

“Now is that any way to speak to a guest,” commented Lucius?

“I did not invite you to my table,” sneered Krum, still slurring his words, “And vrom vhat I haff heard of you… you aren’t charitable.”

Lucius gave Krum a despising look and lifted his brandy glass, taking in the remaining contents at once.

“I suppose civilized conversation has died away,” spoke Lucius with mocked disappointment, setting the brandy glass down, “Very well then… straight to the point.”

The two unidentified wizards positioned themselves closer to Lucius.

“I’m here because I have been given the understanding, thanks mostly to your… easily impressionable house elf,” answered Lucius slowly but directly,” That a guess will be arriving at your home within a few days.”

“Vhat does that haff to do vith you,” whispered Krum?

Lucius gave an odd smile and answered, “This individual… this… young girl… has an association… I’m not to particularly fond of... not to mention a nasty habit of a smart mouth.”

The scene wobbled a bit and seemed as though Krum were trying to take in the response while trying to react.

“And honestly,” continued Lucius, “Why would a self respecting pureblood like yourself… consort with such a tainted filthy mud blood?”

“Don’t speak that vay of Herm-own-ninny,” shouted Krum, trying to stand but falling back into his chair!

“I’ll admit she has… favorable features… which may be quite satisfactory… for certain needs,” implied Lucius strongly with a humored tone, “But to develop a relationship with… I most certainly think not… so something has to be done… rather you… need to do something about this embarrassment.”

“I vill not… doing anything you vant,” drunkenly snarled Krum, trying to stand, “Even if she doesn’t… Herm-own-ninny is still my vriend.”

“That… is exactly how I hoped you would react,” whispered Lucius with a wicked smile?

“Vhat makes… you think I vill… even consider doing vhat you ask,” stumbled out Krum?

Lucius gave a chuckle and withdrew his wand from its hidden resting place inside the snake head cane, taking aim with Krum.

“Because I had no intention of asking,” mocked Lucius, raising his wand from underneath the table.

Krum reached into his own robes but it was too late. The other two wizards disappeared from view and presumably, taken hold of Krum.

“You are lying,” shouted Krum, struggling, “It cannot matter vho I’m vith?”

“Well if you truly wish to know then,” replied Lucius slowly standing up, “Its time the mud blood girl… like the paupers… become another example… of what happens to those… who associate with the enemy of the Dark Lord.”

“Potter,” whispered Krum?”

Lucius let off a continuous chuckle as something brightened at the end of the wand and the scene went black.

The dark scene faded away into the flickering mist rising from the pensive.

In the time before a second could pass; the air in the room icier than the high winds of the impending winter outside the castle. All eyes turned to Harry as the sounds of knuckles cracking followed and the fireplace dimmed to a mere stream of smoke filtering from dying embers. Many of the tinkering and twirling bits of things stopped, some falling to the floor.

Hermione stood a few feet in front of Harry and like the others, could se the flashing in his eyes.

“Me… always me,” whispered Harry darkly.

Hermione stared into Harry’s angrily contorted face and his flashing eyes but rather than see the lightening that had come to be expected there was something else. Harry’s eyes were bright but not just from red streaks flashing in the veins of his eyes but because they were watery.

Hermione looked on in surprise, as angry Harry seemed to become, tears were beginning to form as well.

“Harry,” spoke Dumbledore calmly but he was ignored.

“I wanted to kill him,” stated Harry,” I almost did.”

“Harry,” spoke Dumbledore again louder but was still ignored.

Harry growled something in Parseltongue and the centers of his eyes began to glow red.

Sunlight in the room had already faded and Harry turned for the door but Ron made to stop him.

“Harry wait,” intervened Ron, hesitantly,” I know how you feel… but Lucius Malfoy’s no simple wizard… when Ginny was.”

Harry advanced to only a step away, cutting Ron off.

“Nor am I,” snapped Harry viciously, “And you have no damn idea about what I feel… now move!”

“Harry… I can’t,” replied Ron, strangely stern.

Harry’s knuckles cracked again and the windows in the office, already cracking from the icy sheets stressing the panes, exploded out from some unseen force.

An instant later, a loud thud followed by a slamming bang led to a loud clattering sound filling the room. Harry turned, as did others, to see the Gryffindor sword lay upon the stone floor, its metal sound continuing to ring through the air almost endlessly.

But it did fade and as it did the room seemed to return to normal. The strange trinkets all about began to spin, move or do whatever odd action they normally did. The fireplace went ablaze again as nothing had happened. The only remnants of the previous moments that remain were the cracked windows and the Sword of Gryffindor lying on the floor.

Harry stared at the sword, appearing to be calm again.

“Come on,” spoke Ron, breaking the silence, “Lets have a seat and hear them out.”

Harry said nothing but turned away and headed for one of plush chairs in the far corner.

“Quite a good idea Ronald,” said Dumbledore quietly.

Everyone took seats but Snape, deciding to stand by the fireplace and stare into the blaze.

“It would have been pointless to do anything about Malfoy,” stated Snape quietly, now standing in front of the fireplace, “He left before the Quidditch game ended.”

“How,” asked Hermione sniffling, wiping her eyes, “How could Lucius take control of Victor like that for so long… the Imperious spell… after a long term, the person develops a resistance to it… like Crouch?”

“That is true,” answered Dumbledore, “If it had been the Imperious curse.”

“There is no other curse that can do that,” responded Hermione, her voice filled with restraint.

“Its call the Dark Touch,” interrupted Snape, peering into the flames of the fireplace.

Hermione and Ron stared in puzzlement, but Harry kept his gaze out the open window.

“Do not be surprised that you were unaware of it… very few know of it as it is not written in any book I have ever heard of,” spoke Dumbledore, “Voldemort and his followers were feared, but those bearing the Dark Mark were not what caused the greatest fear in our world.”

Harry still seemed to keep his attention drawn but everyone else clearly paid attention.

“History records that many in that time fifteen years were cleared of their crimes because of evidence found to show they were controlled, “ continued Dumbledore, “Yes the Imperious curse is the unforgivable spell that causes one to become the unwilling servant to another… however the Dark Touch is a twisted version of it.”

Dumbledore paused for a moment to put the pensive back in its place within the desk drawer.

“The Dark Touch and the Naomi Necklace have the same trait in common as to what they do,” continued Dumbledore again, “The Naomi Necklace is capable of redirecting a person emotions… altering their perceptions of memory.”

McGonagall spoke up and asked, “How so?”

McGonagall became surprise that she spoke so suddenly but Dumbledore just smiled.

“Justin is very angry at the loss of Cedric… first year here was very difficult for Justin until Cedric took him under his wing… thus becoming like a brother to him… and Malleck refocused that angered loss from the truth to Harry,” answered Dumbledore,” As for Cho… it is no secret that she had… strong feelings for Cedric… and like any of us who deal with a loss we wish for them back… so like Justin those feelings and thoughts were redirected to Harry… and like any of us, we would go to great lengths to reclaim what we can… all of this done with the Naomi Necklace… the jewel that alters memories and can implant them.”

Ron took a few steps forward and asked, “So the Dark Touch does the same thing?”

Dumbledore stared at Ron a moment with a grin.

“Basically yes,” answered Dumbledore,” The real difference is that the necklace is temporary, its effects will only last a short while where as the Dark Touch is unknown regarding limits but its stronger as been witness by Krum’s actions.”

“So Victor really did,” spoke Hermione, not finishing.

McGonagall quickly stood and placed her hand on Hermione’s shoulder.

“Yes,” spoke McGonagall, her voice unexpectedly soft, “And like many before him during those terrible times years ago, Victor was made to turn against those he cared for.”

“And that was the greater fear of Voldemort’s evil,” added Dumbledore,” Not what his followers could do… but what those who were not his followers could be made to do.”

A moment of silence came and passed with a knock on the door to the office and an unknown wizard stepped in.

“Professor Dumbledore,” inquired the wizard?

Dumbledore looked from McGonagall to Hermione, saying nothing but McGonagall knew the message.

“Hermione,” spoke McGonagall, “Now we have to ask you something… it’s your choice what happens to Mr. Krum.”

Hermione realized it then that the wizard was from the ministry and her choice decided Krum’s fate.

Harry stood up suddenly and walked to the door, Ron barely had a chance to react as he followed Harry out. As they left, Hermione made her decision and followed McGonagall from the office along with the ministry wizard, leaving Dumbledore and Snape alone in the office.

Dumbledore asked openly to Snape, “Have the preparations been completed?”

“Yes Headmaster,” responded Snape quietly, “McGonagall has arranged for a Floo powder trip tomorrow.”

“Good,” sighed Dumbledore leaning back in his chair, finishing with, “Muggle or not… they deserve to know.”

Late evening had settled and Hermione had returned to the common room to learn from Ginny that Harry had returned to his dorm. Her status as a Prefect and the rules of Hogwarts prevented her from seeing Harry as he refused to leave the dorm. According to Ron, all Harry had done was lie on his bed, pull the curtains and refuse to speak to anyone; even Hedwig could not get a response.

The next morning Hermione awoke to find a note lying on her bed table. She recognized the scribbled handwriting to be Ron’s and wondered briefly how he got it there until she noticed the small teeth marks on the edge, like that of a cat.

Sitting up, Hermione gave her snoozing cat a gentle pet and opened the letter, reading the slopping handwriting.

Hermione,

We won’t be at breakfast and maybe not even morning classes. Harry’s got it in his mind for an early morning fly about. I don’t think he slept at all last night, so he may come back finally tired out. Figured you want to know, hope we don’t lose too many points for this.

Ron

P.S. How did your cat know I was writing you a note?

Hermione folded the letter, thinking briefly before she got up and prepared for the day.

She wondered what to say to Harry or even to the Professors when they inquire about her friends. She was charming her hair to stay behind her shoulders and giving her still bruised cheek a look over when the door to the dorm opened, letting a professor step in.

“Good morning Ms. Granger,” greeted McGonagall, “I apologize for telling you this now but there will be a change in you schedule as there is another task we must do.”

The note had been right as Harry and Ron, walked towards the Great Hall at the beginning of lunch since having deposited their brooms only a few minutes ago.

Ron couldn’t help but wonder from time to time during their flight as to how Harry had told Dobby before hand. The moment they stepped out of the castle, with the sun light barely breaching the horizon, Dobby had been waiting with brooms. He remembered when he went looking for Harry after the situation with Krum. He had search for a while even some places twice until Dobby had caught his attention from an empty classroom. Dobby had told him where Harry was and had also given him a note from Dumbledore to bring Harry to his office.

-I wonder why Harry went there of all places, - questioned Ron to himself?

Even when he had found Harry, he couldn’t get a response or barely recognition until he spoke of the note from Dumbledore.

It was now that Ron wondered how Dobby knew so much.

His thoughts were interrupted by an unexpected scene.

Hermione stood outside the Great Hall, dressed to go outside with a small bag in hand and Crookshanks’ basket by her. McGonagall was with her and prepared in a similar fashion.

“Where are you going,” asked Harry plainly?

Hermione gave him a nervous look before answering.

“I um… have to leave,” she answered.

“Why,” continued Harry?

She fidgeted a moment before giving her reason.

“McGonagall is taking me… taking me home,” spoke Hermione hesitantly,” To… to tell my parents… what happened… everything that happened.”

Harry didn’t respond but his features displayed a worried thought.

Hermione spoke quickly with, “It’ll just be for a couple of days… then I’ll be back.”

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley,” spoke McGonagall suddenly, “I’ll expect your assignments from this morning classes on my desk before I return.”

With that McGonagall stepped away and Hermione followed giving a silent wave of good bye.

Neville showed up unexpectedly, shouting, “Wait Hermione! I got it!”

Neville tripped and fell, as expected when he rushed but a familiar object slid from his hand. Hermione rush suddenly towards it but Harry got it first.

Harry looked at the object… a small card… a chocolate frog card… baring his image.

Harry didn’t look pleased but said nothing at first.

“Odd isn’t it I know,” explained Hermione, clearing her throat nervously, “It just that after four years… I still don’t… well I still don’t have a picture of you… and I wanted to show my parents but at the last minute I went with what was available.”

Harry fidgeted with the card in his hand a moment then handed it to Hermione.

“I hope everything goes well,” stated Harry plainly, not looking at her.

Hermione stepped forward and kissed Harry’s cheek making him look to see her smile.

“It will,” she replied happily.

With that Hermione left with McGonagall and Neville excused himself quietly.

“Now what,” whispered Ron?

Harry didn’t answer the way Ron had expected.

“Dobby,” said Harry.

Ron was about to inquire but Dobby popped in, smiling happily within the puff of smoke appearing with him.

“Dobby will get it ready,” proudly spoke the elf before popping out again, adding another puff of smoke to the air.

Harry stated turn towards the Great Hall when Ron asked, “How are you calling Dobby like that?”

“I don’t know, “responded Harry, “Dobby just seems to know when I want something.”

“How,” asked Ron again?

“He’s says it’s because of something we are,” shrugged Harry walking by into the Great Hall,” Something about elementals.”

“Elementals,” whispered Ron to himself as Harry went into the Great Hall?

-But it’s just a story, isn’t it, - thought Ron as turned to follow?

Lunch went by and afternoon classes came but rather then retire to the dormitory, Harry chose to go to class… the despised Double Potions.

Harry and Ron were preparing their ingredients to add to their partially brewed potion and finding it more difficult than usual given that Hermione wasn’t there to point out their obvious mistakes.

The potion they were brewing left off a relaxing aroma but the most everyone was concentrating to hard to avoid Snape’s insults to notice that it was usual to have a potion like that in class.

Ron didn’t even notice as Harry nodded off…

Well what a waste of time that was…

Spoke an angry voice in the cold darkness within the, putrid smelling, dreary and dim maze.

We go through all that… and then you just stop… look at me when I’m talking to you…

Harry turned and found the red eyes staring, squinting at him in the dark.

Krum was bloody well handed to you… she was all over you… just like you wanted… and what do you do… just run off…

“Krum was innocent,” replied Harry, angrily, “It would’ve been wrong… it’s Lucius that deserves anything.”

Innocent… guilty… it doesn’t matter… the point was to make someone pay for trying to take what is ours… I wanted to show you what we can do together… which did not involve being sympathetic…

It kept shouting its words and Harry wasn’t sure what to say.

“Look I may have wanted to… hurt Krum,” started Harry, “But Hermione asked me.”

Oh I see… dark wizards… beasts… criminals… and what not is okay to be in control with… but lets just stop everything for some smart mouth, pretentious, little twit of a mud blood…

“Don’t call her that,” shouted Harry, advancing!

The cold didn’t bother him and the putrid smell seemed to be gone.

I knew good could be ignorant… but I didn’t know it was such a coward…

“Damn you,” snapped Harry as lunged forth, his limits reached!

As Harry lunged forth, his hands came in contact with something that felt as flesh and the dim light revealed a dark haired familiar figure baring the red eyes. A set of hands cam to grip on Harry but before he figure’s form could become clear, a surging pain shot through Harry’s body.

Harry awoke suddenly as a large slam sounded in his ears and shook the desk the table.

“Wake up Potter,” shouted Snape fiercely!

Harry’ gripped his forehead as it began to have a painful feeling of pounding and everything felt out place with him.

“You may think you can prance about this castle doing what you wish,” continued Snape, “But in my class you do not have your way!”

Harry heard Snape’s voice but his words didn’t become clear as a wave of nausea and dazed feelings still gripped Harry.

Snape turned and walked away, still voicing his opinions nastily.

One thing did clearly ring in Harry’s mind…

Such a coward…

It never dulled in its volume and Harry could still feel the same pain in all over his body as he did when he grappled with the dark figure.

“I swear you are just like your father,” snapped Snape, “Always getting away with things… like he was something special… more like coward really.”

The flames under every brewing cauldron vanished…

The windows slammed open…

And a table with a cauldron tipped to the ground violently…

Snape froze in place suddenly and gripped his forearm.

“I suppose it would be better to be like you,” snarled Harry suddenly?

Snape turned to find the Harry’s table knocked over, Ron on the ground surprised and Harry standing in an oddly calm manner.

“Maybe it would be better if I was some pathetic teacher skulking about the castle dungeons,” spoke Harry calmly but dangerously, “Like some useless slime.”

Snape began to back away as his body began to quiver slightly and a small amount of smoke began seeping through the cloth of his sleeve where he held his forearm.

Harry began to advance slowly towards Snape; the students seem too surprised by it all to do anything.

“Keeping your-self behind the Headmaster’s robes… like a frighten child at the hem of their mother’s dress,” continued Harry, “Hiding here at Hogwarts… doing nothing but snooping about and letting others handle the trouble.”

Snape tried to keep his posture but whatever was happening to his arm was causing great pain given the continuous struggle of changing features in his face.

Snape stood by his desk and Harry was only a few feet away.

“Tell me how brave it is,” finished Harry,” To bully students about… just because you don’t have your way?”

The smoke leaving Snape’s arm was growing as was his apparent pain.

Ron had finally managed to get pass his reaction had caught up to Harry.

“Come on Harry… that’s enough… lets get out of here,” suggested Ron, touching Harry’s shoulder.

Harry turned suddenly and knocked Ron’s hand from his shoulder, stating with a warning tone, “Do not interrupt me… or you can follow with him!”

Ron was stared in shock at Harry, seeing his eyes.

There was no flashing, only a steady glow as red as blood in Harry’s eyes.

Harry turned his focus back to Snape.

“Give me one damn reason why I shouldn’t tear you apart,” growled Harry?

Before Snape could attempt to answer, a strong wind blew in and caused many of the parchments laying there to fly off along with another item that was not a parchment. Snape made a drastic lung for it but Harry snatched it first on a sudden thought.

He stared at what was an old and recently torn image of a girl setting on a bench outside reading a book. Her uniform bore the crest of Gryffindor and she was very familiar to Harry. Within moments, Harry realized he had seen this woman before in pictures from the album Hagrid had given him. A woman who was in many pictures with his father… a woman named Lilly Potter.

The flames returned to the cauldrons and things seem to return to normal. Even the smoke had stopped from Snape’s arm.

“You fancied my mother,” whispered Harry questioningly?

A new voice came into the room and everyone breathed easier as that person spoke.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, “said Dumbledore, “Please return to your House.”

Harry said nothing but set the photo back on the desk hesitantly and walked away past the Headmaster.

Ron followed without word but had a moment to see a very unpleasant look on Dumbledore’s face as he looked to Snape.

Neither boy said anything as they left the dungeons until Harry lost his balance and gripped his forehead. Ron caught him before he fell and led him into an empty room nearby. Harry was breathing hard and was very pale.

“Harry,” inquired Ron quite worriedly?

“Am I awake,” asked Harry in a groggy tone, “Did what just happened in Potions actually happen?”

“Yes,” answered Ron slowly?

“It felt like I was dreaming,” explained Harry, still holding his forehead, “Like I was there but it wasn’t really me… it’s the same thing that happened with Krum… everything that happened I wanted… but it was like I was seeing it all… but not actually doing it… like I was dreaming… that’s why I ran out of there… because it didn’t seem like it had should have happened.”

Harry pulled his hand away from his forehead and Ron tried hard not to react but Harry saw what Ron was seeing as it was also in his hand.

There was blood on his hand… blood from his forehead.

Harry stood up and looked around to see a mirror in the room and walked towards it. The mirror revealed a dried pool of blood at the tip of Harry’s lightening shaped scar.

They didn’t have much time to say anything as Dobby came rushing into the room.

The elf snapped his fingers and a brief pink smoke filled the majority of the room. Then with amazing strength grabbed Harry and dragged him towards an open closet to the side. Harry was too surprised about his blood to resist and Ron rushed to the closet where Dobby shoved both boys inside.

“Dobby, what the hell are you doing,” snapped Ron angrily?

“Please sirs, be quiet,” whimpered the elf, “They are coming.”

“They who,” replied Ron?

Dobby didn’t answer right away but instead, tapped the door saying something which caused it to glow yellow for am moment. Then he scratched at the top panel of the door and said something else.

A second later, the wood panel became like glass as the wood vanished and revealed the room they had just been in.

“We will see them, “spoke Dobby proudly, “But they will not know we are here.”

Ron had just about enough of everything when the door to the room burst open and Maylen came in having been shoved in.

Daken hurried in and shut the door behind.

“How dare you to think you can just drag me here,” shouted Maylen.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you since last night,” snapped Daken, “And I’m sick of you ignoring me.”

“We haven’t spoken in thirty years… I’d think you’d be used to not hearing my voice by now,” replied Maylen curtly.

Daken looked ready to retort angrily but instead he closed his eyes taking a breath.

“Maylen, I just want to talk to you,” spoke Daken calmly, “Can’t I at least have that?”

Maylen gave him a strange look but answered, “Fine… but then that’s it.”

Somehow her statement seemed to cause pain for Daken but he held back.

“Where were you,” asked Daken in an unusually sorrow filled voice?

Maylen crossed her arms and looked away, answering, “I was with him for a while… then I got away the night he was killed.”

“But where have you been since…. I looked for you ever since I found out you were still alive,” questioned Daken, “It’s the only reason why Malfoy still lives.”

It was so strange for the boys to see Daken this way. He seemed so oddly gentle and caring, even weak in a way.

“I moved around a lot,” stated Maylen coldly, “For a while in South America… Africa… France… and sometimes just places I didn’t know where exactly… just as far as I could get sometimes.”

Daken walked up to her and seemed to reach out to her but she moved away.

“Why did you think I was dead,” questioned Maylen?

“I had no hope that you were alive after Markus was killed,” softly spoke Daken, “I hunted dark wizard after dark wizard to… I don’t know get revenge or feel like I could right my mistakes… then nearly fifteen years ago… I found out about Malfoy and I was just about to finish it when he said he knew who and what I was… and that you still lived.”

Daken made to move towards her again but she gave him a warning look.

“So why not kill him then,” question Maylen still as coldly as ever?

Daken paused for a moment, “I didn’t know we were related at first… we battled all night… and I never realized why he wasn’t getting hurt enough from the wounds… until I stared into his eyes and saw the same silver as mine…that’s how I knew that he shared the same vampire linage… he was healing like me during the exchanges… I had him at point blank with a silver coated knife to end him until your name escaped Lucius’s lips.”

“So,” snapped Maylen?

“He just laughed at me when I reacted,” explained Daken further, “He wouldn’t say anything more… so I became desperate… dragged him to the ministry in hopes the dementors would make him talk.”

Maylen turned herself to look away from Daken completely.

“Why didn’t you look for me,” asked Daken, his words slow and pained?

“Because you didn’t seem too interested in me before,” scoffed Maylen?

That sparked in Daken as his gentle manner began to dissipate.

“Not interested,” shouted Daken, “You know damn well know… that I was… that I am more than interested!”

Maylen rounded on Daken now.

“Why didn’t you say something,” shouted Maylen in return, “I waited for twenty years and you still never said anything to me… until someone else he did say something?”

“Oh yes that worked out well didn’t it,” chided Daken?

As soon as he had said it, Daken regretted the words as he closed his eyes and a look of self loathing crossed his face.

Maylen backed away and tears brimmed her eyes as she responded simply with, “You bastard.”

Daken seem to calm himself again and with a lot of restraint tried to continue.

“I was a fool… I’ve gone up against dark wizards and beasts,” spoke Daken with stress, “But I couldn’t face you… I was a coward.”

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t a snarling beast to be afraid of,” growled Maylen through stifled sniffles, “But I guess I was stupid enough to give myself to one.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” spoke Daken with a hopeful worry in his voice, “None of us knew… not me… or Markus… and certainly not you… about that wizard… we didn’t suspect who Marvolo was?”

“I got close to him… I should have sensed it,” quietly responded Maylen fighting herself.

“Believe me I know what it’s like to lose yourself around someone who stirs you,” encourage Daken.

“Yeah well I lost myself so much that Markus was killed,” retorted Maylen,” Then found out that my own brother was Malleck.”

Daken gave her a strange look and asked, “Do you know where Markus is?”

Maylen gave him an insulting look and answered, “Where ever you buried him.”

“But he isn’t dead, Maylen,” spoke Daken, “He said some spell before he died… I know I was there he when had his last breath… the Death spell only killed his human half but the vampire continued… that last spell must have preserved him some how… now he’s back causing these recent attacks”

Maylen’s face became a flood of fear and worry as she looked away.

“Well then… it won’t be too long before I’m next,” stated Maylen, “He’ll want the one who led Marvolo to him… and that’s me.”

“Not if I get to him first,” ensured Daken.

Maylen gave him a quick frustrated and dirty look while responding with, “Don’t be ridiculous… I’m supposed to trust you of all people… never!”

With that Maylen stalked past Daken, heading back out to the corridor.

“Maypium,” shouted Daken angrily, grabbing Maylen’s arm!

Maylen spun around and reacted by slapping Daken in move so fast that it came across as almost a blur.

The hit must have been hard as Daken was force to arch his body from the blow but as he straightened his posture, a surprise followed. The side of his face, having received the hit, had three very deep gashes as if claws had been brought across his face.

Ron cursed loudly and covered his mouth but Daken and Maylen did not seem to hear them.

“Don’t ever call me that again,” she demanded!

With that she pulled her arm free and left.

Daken cursed something and the boys watched as the gashes on his face began to heal over.

A minute later Daken left as well.

Dobby let the boys out of the closet while quite pleased with himself and mentioned that was how house elves kept out of sight and unheard from their masters.

Harry chose not to go the Hospital wing but stopped at a lavatory and washed his face. He couldn’t see a scab form anywhere on his scar and considered it a blessing in disguise.

As Dumbledore had requested, they returned to their House.

Two days later, Hermione sat at a table in the Leaky Cauldron, her thoughts rapid about the time with her parents, while awaiting the time for the Floo powder trip to Hogsmeade and back to Hogwarts… back to her friends… back to Ron… and Harry.

“Is everything alright, Hermione, “asked McGonagall sipping from her cup?

“Oh yes,” responded Hermione, “I was just thinking about mom and dad… I’ve never seen my father so angry before… I mean he’s been angry before… but he was like a completely different person… even mum was different.”

“That is a normal and healthy reaction,” responded McGonagall, “I think things became smoother when the owl came with those pictures.”

Hermione stifled a laugh to a humored snort, “Colin must have had to be taken to the Hospital wing when asked to take those pictures.”

Hermione remembered as the scene was heated from her father’s need to leave the room and her mother in a silent rage, the owl that swooped in and dropped a large parchment envelop in her lap.

Opening it she found pictures of Harry and Ron, some funny things with them making faces. A couple of them standing together and a couple of solo close up shots.

Hermione had forgotten the moment with her parents as she read the note included.

Hermione,

Thought maybe you’d like something better than that card.

Your friends,

Harry and Ron

P.S. There may be more as Colin isn’t satisfied with any picture yet.

It was such an unexpected surprise, especially since Harry hated having his picture taken. Now she had something respectable to show her mother. Though her father still seem to be letting it all sink in, she couldn’t help but notice that her mother seem to like the picture of Harry having inquired about his green eyes.

A chime snapped Hermione out her thinking trance and followed as McGonagall stood up, grabbing her over night bag and Crookshanks’ basket.

With extra Floo powder they each took their turn and exited out a shop in Hogsmeade where a horseless carriage awaited them.

Hermione couldn’t help but feel glad to be back at Hogwarts… for many reasons.

When Hermione returned to the common room, she found it oddly quiet. Fellow Gryffindors seem to move quietly and nervously about.

She spotted Ron setting at a table and surprisingly, doing his homework.

She went to Ron and they exchanged greetings and pleasantries but Hermione didn’t wait too long before Ron went into the story of the last few days with the potions class and Maylen’s argument with Daken. She learned that again Harry had shut himself in the dormitory, refusing to converse with anybody.

The next morning, Hermione awoke early to be ready to see Harry for the first time in a few days. She even had purchased a new green tinted blouse for the occasion.

Her hair charmed back and her clothes straightened, Hermione went to the common room to await her friends. She wouldn’t allow Crookshanks on her lap and oddly enough he didn’t seem to insist as he normally did.

Students left their dormitories and gave polite small talk with Hermione but it was still some time before Ron and Harry came down. She heard Ron with his early morning grumbles and stood up to greet them.

Ron gave a casual and yawned greeting but it took Harry a moment to realize who he was seeing.

Hardly giving him a chance Hermione rushed up and gave Harry a tight hug which he returned lightly. She giggled quietly as she felt a small tremble in his form and his hands nervously touch the small of her back.

“Thank you for the pictures,” thanked Hermione, “They came at a perfect time.”

Harry seemed to stare a moment, apparently trying to contemplate an answer.

“Well… you really seemed to want a picture… and Colin is always bugging me for photos… so I just thought,” replied Harry starting to blush, “I’m… glad you like them.”

Harry seemed really nervous suddenly and Hermione knew she was just going to have to accept what Maylen had said before. That being that boys were nervous and stupid around girls, of course she realized she wasn’t any better.

Hermione announced she was hungry and they headed for breakfast.

Hermione said nothing of telling her parents of what had happened and neither boy asked anything about it.

Soon the bell rang and students filtered out for their morning classes.

Today’s class was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

However when they got there they their classmates leaving and they looked to see why. The door had sign posted stating that the class was canceled for the day with an assignment from their books written as well.

Students,

Read chapters twenty three through twenty six.

Review chapters eighteen through twenty two.

Be ready for a test.

And remember…

Always have your wand ready and your instincts sharp

They stood there for a moment, examining the posted sign as a cold draft breezed past them in the hall.

“I think we should go in,” stated Harry, suddenly.

“Why,” asked Ron, “The assignments right there.”

Harry didn’t seem to listen as he reached for the handle to the door only it opened on its. Harry gave his friends an inquiring look but both Hermione and Ron had no answers to give.

They entered the quiet classroom of their Defense Against the Darks subject to find it eerily quiet except for a sound of breaking glass coming from the office.

With only a look between them they withdrew their wands and headed quietly to the office, leaving the school materials on a nearby table.

As they neared the door, Harry noticed the sounds had not changed and gave a curious look to his friends. Ron shrugged his shoulders and Hermione shook her head, a clear note of apprehension in her expression, but ready to go on.

Harry reached for the door to the office only before he could turn the knob; it opened quite violently banging against the wall within the office.

Daken stood there glaring at them, his usually pale face very red and his eyes looked bloodshot.

At first Harry wasn’t sure what to make of it until he saw the nearly empty Ogden’s fire whiskey bottle in Daken’s hand and remembered how is Aunt Marge would look the same during visits having had quite a bit of Uncle Vernon’s scotch.

-He’s drunk, - thought Harry as the horrid stench of whiskey filtered from the office through his nose, burning the airway to his lungs.

A quick glance from the corner of his eyes made clear that Ron and Hermione were having similar reactions to the smell.

“Get in here,” snapped Daken, quite rudely.

They gave no resistance, considering none of them knew how drunken vampire would react to not having its way but they kept theirs wands in hand.

“Sit, “snapped Daken again, while he flopped himself on a large plush chair.

Easier said then done they quickly discovered as whiskey bottles littered the room. It seemed as though floor were made of them. As they moved the bottles clinked together which explained the breaking glass sound, they heard earlier given that there were also many shards from bottles having been broken.

-He must have been just stomping around on them… the bloodied fool, - thought Ron, trying his best to avoid slipping on the bottles.

Hermione made a distinct sound of disgust and made her way to the window. She opened it and with a quick spell refreshed the air in the room ending the whiskey smell. Having done that, she spoke another spell, causing all the empty bottles to pile up in a far corner of the room.

Daken didn’t seem to notice the quick cleaning Hermione had done, rather he just drank the rest of the contents and tossed the bottle to the floor. A look on Hermione’s face clearly showed the insult of it all but she said nothing except to glare at him.

Daken fumbled with his robes in the overstuff chair across from them.

A moment later Daken brought his wand into view, with a quick wave, conjuring three small glasses, filled with a liquid presumed to more of the whiskey and yet another bottle.

The three friends gave each other a look.

“We’re… a bit young,” mentioned Ron trying not to imply anything.

Daken just shrugged his shoulders.

For few minutes, nothing seemed to happen beside Daken taking heavy drinks from the whiskey and sitting there.

Harry was about to speak and see about excusing themselves to leave but Daken spoke up.

“Remember at the beginning of the term,” spoke Daken, his words plain, turning his bloodshot eyes to them, “I said that every year there had been something to bring a fight to Hogwarts and there always had been those to resist it.”

Daken took their silence to be a yes and so continued.

“I also said you never knew how the Marauders were formed,” continued Daken, his words barely slurred, “The specifics of that union, I don’t know but I am aware of a time when they became heroes but no one aside from a select few ever knew the whole truth… many knew they were involved but not how deep.”

“Do you,” asked Harry?

“I’m telling the damn story, aren’t I,” snapped Daken?

Daken sat silent for a moment again and with no response or warning began to tell the tale.

About ten years before any of you were born which would make nearly twenty years, I came to Hogwarts masquerading as a student.

I was here to… gather information… and I passed myself off as a fifth year transfer from America… not surprisingly of course Dumbledore had me figured.

He sent for me one night to explain my reasons.

Realize that vampires weren’t too well welcomed… like werewolves… even half blooded ones.

In any case… after I explained my reasons… Dumbledore let me stay and in time, I met your father and his friends… Remus, Sirus and… Peter.

Harry made a shift in his posture, an action that didn’t go unnoticed.

A smirk crossed Daken’s face as it stared at Harry, continuing.

I also met… the very pretty and very sought after… young Ms. Lilly Evans… the Prefect of Gryffindor at that time. Regardless of the House, she was still quite desired by many of the boys in this school.

Harry reacted by blushing slightly at the news of his mother, Ron grinned and Hermione giggled.

She did have one obstacle… a constant thorn in her side.

Harry looked puzzled, he had always heard of people not liking his father for some reason or another but this was the first he had heard of someone opposing his mother.

Daken chuckled a bit and continued.

You see your mother was much like McGonagall in many ways in that she didn’t break rules for any reason not to mention she was quite strict about things… even more so than Hermione… there seemed to be no reason for a rule to be broken in her view.

Harry’s puzzlement continued as did Daken’s story.

So you can see that some one like your father and his friends who had a ‘unique’ opinion on the rules could be seen as a ‘problematic’ to your mother.

Daken paused momentarily letting the details sink into Harry’s mind.

I know it sounds strange to think that your parents opposed each other but that was how they were back then. I don’t know the entire history but from what I was told your parents did not see eye to eye from the very first day. I was also told of many heated arguments between them. Of course now the answer to their constant quarrels is quite clear.

Daken put his drunken gaze on Harry again only to see the boy completely confused.

Most would call it foreplay…

Its really simple… basically they were so young when they met and the initial reaction to each other was one of… shall we say… distaste.

As time went by, it seemed the normal emotion for them to show each other but with each passing year the intensities grew, evident with each argument.

I remember one day… many of us could hear yelling from a closet in the halls. Most likely James had broken another rule… gotten away with it… but not before Lilly had her say.

I was further away towards the back of the crowd but you could hear them yelling at each other… then it all just went silent… a minute or two later… Lilly opened the door and walked out… she looked to be in a trance… not noticing anybody… walking away.

James stayed in there, I was able to see and found him rooted to the spot. I thought maybe Lilly had petrified him but was very much moveable… just in shock.

“From what,” asked Harry, still confused?

Daken just stared at him, Ron grinned while blushing slightly and Hermione began snickering while trying to hide it. Luckily, it didn’t take too long for the answer to present itself in Harry’s mind and looked away in embarrassment for finally realizing.

Daken continued having seen the look on Harry’s face now realizing his parents’ actions in the closet.

I know that doesn’t seem to make things very clear about the Marauders but believe me… it’s a key point.

At that same year I came to Hogwarts a witch by the name of Loralie Dussan was the Herbology professor at the time.

She is the reason why the Marauders became more than pranksters.

“How so,” asked Hermione.

“I’m getting there,” responded Daken, slightly cold, “Remember the potion Cho was brewing when she had Hermione chained and you two dealt with her?”

Harry and Ron exchanged a quick glance from their eyes and Daken took it as a yes to his question.

“That was the same potion Loralie made at the time… its called Aphrodite’s Kiss,” added Daken, “And it’s an extremely powerful love potion and seriously dangerous.”

“Where did Cho find it,” asked Hermione, “The restricted section?”

“I’d like to know that myself… I would be surprised if you could find it in any book in Diagon Alley or here at the Hogwarts library… since it was misused so much and caused a lot of scandal in its day,” answered Daken, “The potion was forbidden to public knowledge… except by permission from the Ministry… given it’s level of difficulty… Cho got it from someone else and that someone helped to brew it.”

“Malleck,” stated Ron plainly before noting in a confused tone, “He sure is taking his time about things…all we’ve had is the… Keock Jewel?”

“Don’t forget the Void spell the first day of the term,” added Hermione, “Or the fall of the Museum.”

Daken interrupted and stated quite rudely, “He loves chaos… I said that before… Malleck likes to see people suffer… so everything you’ve all been dealing with of late is good as well… I think he’s just saving up for something big.”

“Like what,” inquired Ron?

Hermione answered, “Well he still has that other stuff… the other Talismans… the Hetan Stone, Naomi Necklace, Geraus Ring, Colossus Orb and.”

“The Venarus Blade,” spoke Harry, finishing for Hermione.

“The stone is what leveled the Museum and it has not yet been found… the orb isn’t confirmed yet from the marble sphere found with Harry in the rubble… we know the necklace is was used on Justin and Cho… hardly anything is known of the ring as it had barley been translated,” spoke Daken in a monotone state staring away from them, “The Venarus Blade is the one to fear for now.”

They sat silent for moment, Daken gulped down more of his oddly colored whiskey.

Daken suddenly shook his head, seemingly to gag a moment and said loudly, “Wait… I was telling you about the Marauders and Loralie!”

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat silently as Daken continued the previous story.

Loralie was the reason the Marauders became unknown heroes.

It may never have been known as to what Loralie’s reasons were but one night she attacked the school with the Aphrodite’s Kiss potion… or rather she made most of the boys attack with that potion.

How she did it… I don’t know… but basically she gained control over almost every young male in this school… including some of the younger male professors.

Apparently one of the few limitations the potion had was that the intended male had to be within a certain age group of the brewer, so young professors as well as any boy students above second year became affected.

They stormed the school at her command and held everything hostage. The potion’s control was so strong it made its victims completely subjected to commands making them innocent as anything done was not of their choice. Because of that very little forceful magic could be used to repel them and so Hogwarts lay crippled by its own students.

Lilly, another witch and McGonagall had themselves locked in a classroom somewhere and worked to create another potion to reverse the effects.

Most of the girls defended the school while the potion was being created but Loralie began to lose control of the fight as she had a new battle to deal with as four challengers stood against her.

Daken took a moment to look at the three friends and could see each listening intently.

The exact specifics of how and why I never learned… but four boys… three that were capable of becoming an animal at will… and one under the curse of a werewolf… somehow made their way through the opposition and challenged Loralie.

I said before that the potion had few limitations… but another one was it gave dominative control over same species only… and the Marauders animagus transformation powers must have just been enough to make that limitation apply as part of them must have become one with the animal form including the werewolf boy.

“My dad… Sirius… Professor Lupin… and,” whispered Harry openly before trailing off.

“And Pettigrew,” finished Ron plainly.

Daken stared hard a Harry a moment then looked to his bottle, continuing.

The greenhouse, the central core of Loralie’s assault, had given the advantages of growing the ingredients needed and have access to most of the boys in the school as Herbioloy is a required subject for all years.

It was also a disadvantage as animals can move faster in a building of pots and plants then a human.

Her assault had begun at night… a night with a full moon… and she must not have known like many that a werewolf was on the premises.

The other three became their animal forms, keeping the werewolf controlled, while breaching enslaved students line and making their way to the greenhouse.

I wasn’t there for it… I only know what was said from Sirius and Pettigrew then.

They had entered by breaking the doors… stags have very strong antlers and can often break things easily… especially with a werewolf and boarhound aiding… with a rat watching their backs.

I guess it didn’t take Loralie long to figure out why animals would suddenly show up… my guess would be that the werewolf was a pretty big clue as well.

I won’t go into detail about the fight but basically Sirius was injured… a rat couldn’t do much beside make an attempt to knock over the cauldron brewing the aroma of the potion while the werewolf and stag kept her busy.

Loralie must have been a very strong witch to defend herself against them for that long…

At some point, Pettigrew had been able to knock over the cauldron and so Loralie must have used her last option to win…

Daken paused and a look of silent pain crossed his face.

Loralie wasn’t a fool, she knew someone would try to develop a kind of anti-love potion… so she prepared for it with a… so called assassin… someone who could move faster and get past the fighting to find out who was doing it.

Using that option she somehow at some point must have communicated that to the Marauders…

Well as I said Lilly was working on it… so your dad had to make a choice…

Continuing to fight Loralie… or find Lilly and stop this assassin.

Daken paused again, taking another gulp and finishing the bottle.

James made his choice…

Daken looked to his audience.

Loralie had to face a solo werewolf now… one not under the influence from fellow animals…

Believe me a werewolf uncontrolled is extremely fast… faster than what it takes to say a spell… it was only with Sirius and Peter’s account of events that identified the mess of remains that was once Loralie…

Thankfully Remus never remembers such things...

Your father chose to go to Lilly… and almost didn’t make it.

The assassin had gotten there first and McGonagall could do little against him…she was knocked out easily and two young witches didn’t have much of a chance. Their only defense had been a creature that came to their aid before hand. I believe you’ve met it… a phoenix… called Fawkes.

“Fawkes,” spoke Harry, “He rescued my mother?”

“Let say… he bought time,” replied Daken, “Phoenixes are powerful, I don’t deny that… great strength, flight and use of fire… but they lack speed in small areas like a classroom… couldn’t use it’s fire abilities at the time… and the assassin had speed…plus the advantage to heal fast.”

“So what did my father do,” inquired Harry, a forceful tone in his words now?

Daken finished the story.

I remember it well… as Fawkes fought and weakened… the window shattered… pieces of the surrounding wall broke off when a great stag smashed through… speed or no speed… there was no dodging a surprise like that… as the stag drove it’s antlers through the assassin into the wall behind him.

The stag held strong while the reversing potion’s last details were finished.

It’s amazing when I remember it because going through that window, not to mention the distance that had to be traveled to get there, had not been done without a price… the distance at top speed had caused his hooves to bleed… the window had cause numerous and serious cuts all over his body… and I’m sure one of his legs had been broken while landing as well.

Hermione’s mind suddenly flashed back to the first Quidditch game when Bludgers attacked the audience… and how Harry had managed to repel the remaining Bludger even when severely hurt himself… it sounded almost the same.

Lilly and her friend finished the potion and released the assassin’s mind of control.

Lilly remind behind… the other witch took the potion to Dumbledore… Fawkes stayed guarding Lilly and McGonagall.

Lilly directed her attention to the stag…

She must have known… somehow… that it was James… suffering from the injuries… to weak to change back to his human form… she stayed with him the whole time… using her magic and remaining potion ingredients to heal him… didn’t work to well until Fawkes’s tears were used.

After that… the students recovered… Dumbledore made sure for all to understand that it was no one’s fault, student wise, as to any actions that were taken… thankfully nothing more serious than some nasty curses and damage to the castle had been done during that whole night.

I left before the end of that year… I had found the information I was looking for so there was no more reason for me to stay.

Daken leaned back and closed his eyes, taking a deep breathe.

Silence followed as Harry and his friends sat reflecting on what they were told but it wasn’t too long before Harry had a question about it.

“How is it you don’t know that much about what happened in the greenhouse,” asked Harry slowly, his eyes squinting, “But you know a lot about what happened with this assassin?”

Daken turned his head and looked at Harry, a small grin forming.

“It seems my vampire half wasn’t enough to exclude me from that ‘same species’ limitation of the love potion,” answered Daken slightly humored, “Even with vampire healing… I still have some small scars… where James’s antlers pierced me.”

None was sure how Harry took the news as he sat there, not saying anything or having any apparent emotions appear on his face.

“I never thought badly of James… I tend to believe I would have done the same thing in his place,” continued Daken, as he turned his gaze to Hermione, “But I know he didn’t take the ending to that entirely well… when I left... your father was still dealing with the pain… the self blame… of letting one person be brutally mutilated by a werewolf… then nearly killing me… even later learning of my vampire linkage.”

“How did he get over it,” asked Hermione quietly, matching Daken’s line of sight?

“Whatever it was,” answered Daken, “It came from Lilly.”

A bell rang… which startled the group for a moment.

“Well it seems class is over,” laughed Daken, “So the afternoon is yours.”

Ron and Hermione stood up but Harry stayed in place. A deep thought apparent as Harry stared at Daken.

“Was there something else,” mocked Daken, his slurring speech coming back, smiling?

“What happened between you and Maylen,” asked Harry plainly and boldly?

Daken lost his smile and seemingly increase humored attitude at the question, even the effects of the whiskey seem to vanish.

“It’s a long story… one I don’t care to tell,” replied Daken simply.

Harry stood up and reached for his school bag.

“It’s actually a mixture of what was and was not done,” spoke Daken unexpectedly.

Harry sat back down slowly and the other two followed.

“I’m a lot older than appear… I use to think I was older than Dumbledore… now I’m sure that’s not right,” continued Daken, not looking at them, “We met more than fifty years ago… exactly when I don’t care to go into… but it was Maylen… and Markus... and I.”

Daken stopped, a flood of memories crossed as his eyes seem to flicker a moment.

“How we met doesn’t matter… but when we did… it didn’t take long for us to become very close friends… or so I thought.”

Daken reached into his robes and withdrew a frayed and wrinkled photograph.

“Many years went by… and I never knew… but Markus had a secret hate for humans… derived from the slaughter of his vampire mother and wizard father… and so at some point… he acted on it.”

Darken stared hard at the photo, s mixture of anger and pain crossed his features.

“At the time vampires were very much despised… even more so than werewolves… they were only a problem during a full moon… we were considered hunters all the time… didn’t matter if you were half breed or not… even the union of wizard and witch or vice versa was unacceptable.”

Daken leaned forward and handed the photo to Ron, who showed it to Hermione before giving it to Harry. Ron and Hermione had silent surprised reactions to the photo and Harry could see why. Three people sat on a ledge, a girl between two boys. The girl was Maylen and she didn’t look hardly any different in the photo than she did the last time Harry saw her and the same was true for Daken. The other boy, Harry assumed to be Markus, had a familiar look as well but wasn’t sure what it was yet. Certain facial features, especially their eyes… seem to be alike.

“Suppose I should have notice something… we were all in America at the time a word of a dark hideously evil wizard called Malleck spread over time… but I didn’t… I had a distraction.”

“Maylen,” spoke Hermione softly?

Daken raised his eyes and gave Hermione a piercing glance.

“Yes, I… fell in love with her…but like a true idiot human… I neglected to do anything about it besides admire her from afar.”

Daken looked away again and took a deep breath again. It seemed as if the conversation was beginning to make him angry and he was trying to calm.

“Then about thirty years ago… my negligence did even more than just keep her waiting.”

Daken paused for a moment and in that time Harry reflected on the dream he had of the wizards in the dark mist arguing. When Daken came too late after the one called Malleck was killed. A woman had done the spell bringing Malleck’s doom.

“A new friend showed up… and didn’t have any problems with showing interest in Maylen… or befriending Markus.”

Daken’s hands bawled to fists and a sour look filled his face.

“Skipping to the end… some things didn’t seem to be right about that wizard… I thought it was just jealously as Maylen had pointed out once… but in time I learned he wasn’t half of what he seemed to be.”

Daken’s voice was turning into a strange growling sound. At the corner of his eye, Harry could see that Ron and Hermione were having trouble understanding but Harry didn’t.

“When I did have something solid I thought if Markus believed me then Maylen would as well… except when I got to the house during a dark misty night… I couldn’t find either of them… but I found a room I never knew of before.”

The wood of the plush chair Daken was sitting in seemed to be groaning as his arms pushed down.

“I found spell books, potions and a number of other things… then the bodies… missing witches and wizards believed to have been capture by Malleck… all here in Markus’s house.”

Daken’s breathing was deep and rapid now, the silver in eyes began to glow to even Ron and Hermione could see it.

“I didn’t want to believe it then… I found a copy of the Daily prophet on a table that spoke of a dark wizard causing trouble in England… I remembered the accent of that bastard…but within the short time I was in there, I set off some kind of trap as the entrance closed and a void spell activated, sealing me in the room.”

Daken’s vampire fangs began easy to see as he clenched his jaw together, letting only his lips move.

“I couldn’t use magic, so I broke my hands getting through the stone wall to escape… I knew it had to be the same wizard… I didn’t want to think about Malleck and Markus being the same.”

Daken became quiet for a moment; Harry notice blood beginning to seep between Daken’s clenched fingers.

“I was too late… I found Markus almost dead… and Maylen taken.”

Daken closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I cried like some weak human rather than do something… I barely caught any of his last words from my pathetic sobbing… he said something like a spell before, at the time I thought to be death but he must have had a way to survive.”

Hermione dared a chance to ask a question,” How could he have survived death?”

Daken didn’t look at her but responded with, “Markus, like me, was half vampire… and the Death spell is mainly meant for humans… his human half was killed but his vampire half must have survived… even after I buried him.”

“Who was this wizard,” asked Ron now, taking a chance himself?

Daken spoke slowly but nastily.

“At the time we only knew him as Marvelo… the name I learned twenty years later when I came here… the bastard… Tom…Marvelo… Riddle… the wizard named by the Daily Prophet then as… Voldemort.”

Silence followed…

Ron sat dumbstruck…

Hermione covered her mouth with both hands as she remembered what Maylen said in the library about the wrong wizard she had met.

Harry’s mind flashed back to the dark mist night in the woods and the other dark wizard as he held the photo graph.

“So she loved Markus,” said Hermione suddenly, calming from the shock of hearing Voldemort’s involvement.

“I would hope so,” snapped Daken even nastier, “He was her twin brother after all…and my best friend!”

He wasn’t the one I truly… felt something for…

Maylen’s words replayed in Hermione’s mind.

-That why she said to do things yourself, - thought Hermione.

“Do me a favor,” snarled Daken, “And get out… my instincts… are kicking in… so you can’t be here.”

They quickly stood up and left, gathering their things in the classroom before exiting into the corridor.

As they entered the vacant corridor, they never noticed a creature on a window sill further back. A red feather bird known as a phoenix named Fawkes. As the bird perched on the window sill, the sun behind it cast a long shadow on the wall.

“We all have one, wouldn’t you agree old friend,” said Dumbledore, stepping from the shadow on the wall?

Fawkes gave a musical chirp of agreement.

“Each of us has one,” said Dumbledore with a smile, “An Untold Story.”

Next Chapter

Home for the Holiday

22. Home for the Holiday

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: What can I say? Finals are a killer and a time consumer.

I’m going to poke a little fun at the marketing of Harry Potter products, not any kind of insult but again just a poke at it. A friend of mine suggested the idea and I decided it fit well and added to what I’m aiming for in this story.

I’ve been asked about it in e-mails, so I’m going to answer it here for every one. Where is Hagrid? Well from my own opinions of book four, Hagrid mentions a mission for Dumbledore, so I’m guessing he wouldn’t be present for the fifth book. So I’m going with that assumption. If you think I’m wrong well that’s probably true as obviously I’m not the originator of the series but I do use his absence to make a point in this chapter.

In the reviews, it was mentioned about a beta reader and side e-mails have said the same thing. So I suppose I do need one, given that I don’t see the mistakes that a different reader would see. So if you would like to be a beta reader for my story then e-mail me at itmonster@hotmail.com and please have the subject line as “HPTW beta reader”. I don’t have a lot of time to read a lot of responses so I’ll accept the first five responses. That may not seem fair and I apologize for that. Otherwise potential beta readers should know that I use MS Office XP to write my chapters and they’ll be attachments through hotmail, meaning they’ll be pre-scanned by Hotmail servers for viruses. Also I work at night so e-mails maybe labeled as early morning. Besides the grammar and the spelling, I would be happy to accept suggestions, as one major scene in this chapter is one from a friend of mine.

Completed 5/25/03

Revised 7/14/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 22

Home for the Holiday

Evening in Gryffindor passed on mostly quiet but also oddly.

Harry and Ron sat at a table working or rather struggling with their homework while Hermione sat nearby reading another book. Occasionally she would ask them if they wanted help and Ron was quick to accept but rarely would Harry respond

. Instead she would have to look at his work and point out the problems and though he was politely thankful, it seemed like the homework was more of a chore being done simply because it was there than for any other reason.

The oddity of the evening came from the behavior of their peers. It was subtlety becoming obvious that many were trying to avoid Harry and the first years actually seemed afraid when he moved in their direction.

Once Harry sneezed and the room went dead silent. A second year dropped his book and the girl next to him screamed from surprise at the thud. The boys looked up from their table and gave everyone a funny look. Hermione followed in suit, as it was weird to see everyone in Gryffindor House so tense.

The strangeness grew with individuals as Ginny thought the whole scenario was hilarious and continued to comment on it but the twins weren’t using it as an excuse to play a prank, as would have been expected.

Neville, the most nervous of boys Hermione had ever met, didn’t seem to be worried or frighten as could have been expected. Rather he asked Harry and Ron about a game of Exploding Snap, which they agreed to play later.

The only explanation Hermione thought to be the reason was the incident in Potions with Snape’s nasty comments. She silently wished to have had been there to maybe have helped in some way. However she couldn’t deny the small note of satisfaction in knowing that Snape had gotten a bit of a return for his constant nastiness.

Another observation Hermione was bothered by was Harry’s attentiveness. He was yawning a lot and seemed to be having trouble concentrating on anything. He’d drift off in class and then wake up a minute later… none of the teachers she had seen so far, including McGonagall, seem to have anything to say about it. Almost ignoring it. Hermione

got her chance to investigate when Harry left the table to fetch more parchment.

“What’s going on with Harry,” whispered Hermione walking up to the table, leaning towards Ron?

Ron gave her a questioned look and responded sarcastically, “You just noticed something wrong with him?”

Hermione gave Ron a disapproving look and snapped, “I meant why is he so distracted… he’s seems to be tired constantly?”

“That’s because he is,” answered Ron worriedly, “He’s awake when I fall asleep and already dressed when I wake up… if he is sleeping than its cat naps… otherwise he keeps looking through his photo album.”

“Nightmares,” said Hermione in a matter-of-fact like tone, looking away then turned back asking quickly, “What has he told you about them?”

“Nothing directly,” answered Ron, “Besides the Parseltongue… I did… sort of… overhear him tell Daken that something in his dreams was saying some bad stuff about me… supposedly told Harry I might die.”

Hermione remembered the moment with Harry in the girls’ dormitory.

“Harry said something similar about me,” remembered Hermione aloud, “Something in his dreams was referring to me as well.”

“Whatever is going on with him,” replied Ron, “It’s because of those damn nightmares and he won’t talk about it… and I… well I don’t know how to ask?”

“Well no matter what he needs to sleep,” pointed out Hermione,erH “And I’ll do something about that.”

“Like what you did before,” asked Ron, “With the tea?”

Hermione just gave Ron a grin before Harry suddenly plopped down in his seat with more parchment. To avoid suspicion Hermione pretended to answer a prior question and Ron played along. After that Hermione went to the girls’ dormitory to gather what she needed from her trunk. However she received a surprise in the process.

“Dobby,” inquired Hermione surprised?

“Evening miss,” replied the grinning elf.

Dobby stood by her trunk and was setting goblets onto a tray while filling a pitcher with pumpkin juice. There was also a small bottle setting on her trunk. An item she had not told anyone about but Dobby somehow knew about it.

“How did you know I would need all that,” asked Hermione?

“Dobby just knows,” answered the elf cheerily before apparating away.

Later on, as the evening grew late, Hermione was able to make her hot pumpkin juice again. Having not done so in a while, the boys welcomed it without question.

Hermione sat across from the boys, Crookshanks on her lap while keeping her eye on Harry, as did Ron.

After a short while Harry’s eyes began to droop again and as he tried to resist it, Hermione couldn’t help but be surprised. Harry resisted the coming dreariness by any means including talking about any subject or pacing near the fireplace. While resisting, Harry seemed slightly panicked and it did bother Hermione but she kept held strong against the urge to tell him what she did Ron followed along with any and all of Harry’s attempts but it was becoming obvious that Harry was losing to his exhaustion. Harry dropped his mug and fell straight asleep, they knew it to be over.

Hermione just sat in place, continuing to sip her pumpkin juice, satisfied at succeeding.

“Its weird isn’t it,” spoke Ron suddenly, finishing off his mug.

“What is,” inquired Hermione?

Ron gave her a questioning look, “At first Harry seemed to be getting better… then he keeps to himself… later he’s better… than again to himself.”

“Like he’s in a chaotic circle,” simplified Hermione.

“Any idea why,” wondered Ron?

Hermione looked at Harry’s sleeping form and answered quietly, “Only that something is eating at him… like it did me with Krum… except I think his might be worse.”

Ron stood and pulled Harry up, draping Harry’s arm around his shoulders.

“You want some help,” asked Hermione, “He looks heavy?’

”No… I got it,” answered Ron, easily dragging Harry out of the common room, “I just hope his nightmares don’t bother him too much.”

“They won’t,” stated Hermione simply.

Ron paused for a second giving Hermione a questioned look but said nothing and continued on.

With the boys gone and only Crookshanks present, Hermione withdrew a small bottle from her inner robe pocket and examined its nearly empty contents.

“Almost all gone,” whispered Hermione, “Only one dose left.”

The next day was Care of Magical Creatures, which seemed to drone on as it had done so since the start of the term. Many students weren’t sure which had been worse, the substitute’s boring lectures about simple things such as slime slugs or stone mites compared to the creatures Hagrid would show that could poison, tear off a limb or inflict some other bodily harm.

“At least with Hagrid, you never knew what to expect,” boringly sighed Ron whispering to Harry, “Like giant damn spiders.”

Like the other students, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, Ron stood in the cold snow of the late morning while Mr. Gridden lectured about some creature. Harry grinned in response and Ron watched him from the corner of his eye. Harry had still been asleep when Ron awoke. To avoid being late, Ron had to drag Harry to the showers and awaken him with a cold spray. Harry had been quite surprised to wake up but Ron was glad to see that at least he looked better. He did promise himself to find out what Hermione was using to do this.

Like Ron, Harry paid little attention to the lecture as he kept glancing at Hermione. She was constantly looking towards Hagrid’s beast pen with a confused look.

“What is it,” whispered Harry, leaning towards her?

Hermione whispered back, “Don’t you hear that?”

Harry strained his ears but besides Mr. Gridden and his own breathing, Harry couldn’t hear anything.

Hermione seemed to be bothered heavily by what only her ears seem to be receiving and after a few minutes, it seemed she had enough.

Hermione walked away from the group and with a quick exchange of puzzled glances Ron and Harry followed a few steps behind.

Mr. Gridden called out but they didn’t listen. Instead Hermione opened the gate to the pen and walked in. Ron closed it as Harry continued to follow.

Hermione continued on towards a bulky wooden structure with a large opening in the front for a person or something else to pass easily through.

Harry barely had time to notice the other creatures like griffins or some other he didn’t recognize only that Hermione was entering the wooden structure with a name painted above the entrance.

A painted name that said… Fluffy.

Ron caught up and asked quietly, “Why are we going into Fluffy’s doghouse… am I the only one who remembers that thing wanted to rip us apart last time… and almost did?”

“No,” answered Harry quietly, “Try telling her that.”

Hermione stepped through the entrance without hesitating and the boys hurried to follow her, their wands drawn.

The site that greeted them was not what could have been expected.

Fluffy was there but didn’t do anything besides lay on a large mat in the corner.

All it did was give them a strange look, then turn away, letting off an unusual whine

“Well… that’s different,” said Ron watching Fluffy.

“Why is he just laying there,” asked Harry?

Hermione walked slowly up to Fluffy and the creature shifted its heads, beginning to growl.

“Hermione,” whispered Ron, “I don’t think it wants you to get near.”

She didn’t listen but continued to approach.

Fluffy turned and stood up suddenly. It gave giving Hermione a straight look and its growl intensified.

“Ms. Granger,” shouted a voice from behind them,” Stand back!”

Before they had a chance to look a spell flew by and hit Fluffy. Chains appeared and wrapped around the snouts of all three heads. The canine immediately stood up and began to paw at the chains.

“Stop that,” demanded Hermione, looking to the spell caster, which the group learned to be Mr. Gridden!

The substitute professor ignored her and spoke another spell. It hit Fluffy and a new chain appeared, connecting to the previous ones and then anchored to a conjured spike in the ground. The conjuring forced Fluffy to bend down into a terrible position and the creature continued to paw at the chains, whining slightly.

Suddenly everything went silent, even the other creatures in the pen were no longer making any sounds. The brisk winds that blew the snow and chapped the skin raw on any student outside stopped immediately. The lake water, normally swirling from activity underneath became calm with not a single ripple. The ground upon which they stood slowly began to tremble.

“I said stop,” warned Hermione in a calm manner.

Mr. Gridden seem unaffected by the current moments as he responded,” That blasted monstrosity should be locked away or destroyed.”

Hermione responded with nothing at first but turned her body and walked towards the substitute.

Ron and Harry watched, as Hermione’s brown eyes took on a strange glow in the dim light of Fluffy’s residence.

“Call Fluffy that… or threaten him again,” plainly and calmly stated Hermione,” And I’ll show you what a monstrosity really is.”

“Ms. Granger… prefect or not I’ll not be,” began Mr. Gridden before Hermione cut in.

“Is that,” voiced Hermione loudly, interrupting,” Clear?”

At the last word, Mr. Gridden’s wand cracked from the tip to the handle and split in two. A small substance, presumably the magical core, fell out.

“I believe you should return to the rest of your class,” spoke a new and familiar voice in the dark area of the room.

“Headmaster,” snapped Mr. Gridden obviously shaken,” This Gryffindor’s behavior is unacceptable.”

Dumbledore stepped into view of the dim light, an unsettle expression filled his face.

“What is unacceptable,” stated Dumbledore in his rarely used authoritive tone,” Is that a wizard like yourself… licensed to be able to care for such creatures… does not have the open mind or heartfelt understanding… when such a creature is in clear pain.”

Mr. Gridden made ready to respond but Dumbledore cut him off.

“Why was I not made aware of Fluffy’s condition,” asked Dumbledore?

Mr. Gridden gave Dumbledore a scornful look and answered snappishly,” Because it’s fine… it eats… drinks… sleeps… otherwise all it does is lay about in here.”

“And do you not think that strange, considering that Fluffy is barely seven years old,” continued to question Dumbledore?

Hermione had not said anything but her eyes continued to illuminate brighter with their glow. The slight tremors in ground began to elevate. Regardless of the exchange between the professors, it was clear Hermione was becoming angrier and their surroundings were responding to that. Even Fluffy lay back on the ground again, drooping all his ears and gave off a small whine again. Some of the other creatures in the pen began giving off frightened sounds as well.

“Fluffy is too dangerous to do much with,” snapped Mr. Gridden,” Hagrid’s instructions are ridiculous… like this thing is no more harmful than simple puppy.”

“Return to your class and dismiss it,” stated Dumbledore stepping forward,” Then you have until the end of the day to leave Hogwarts.”

Mr. Gridden became shocked at Dumbledore’s statement and stared back in response.

“There are many requirements for Care of Magical Creatures subject,” stated Dumbledore with finality, “And one requirement I seek… which is Hagrid’s greatest trait… is to actually care… just because something is dangerous by nature does not make it a monster by that same token… Hagrid understands that where you do not… good day.”

Mr. Gridden turned on his heel and stormed out.

Hermione turned and rushed back to Fluffy.

“Help me get these chains off,” shouted Hermione.

Ron walked up to Fluffy and yanked the spike easily out of the ground. Hermione and Harry gave each a quick puzzled glance at how easily Ron had done that. The next thing Ron did, surprised them further. Hermione was withdrawing her wand but before a spell could be used Ron reached up and snapped a few links apart with his bare hands. Fluffy shook off the loosen chains as Hermione gave another puzzled glance to Harry.

“How did you do that,” snapped Hermione?

Ron looked at her, shook his head at Fluffy and responded, “I’m not the one you should be wondering about.”

Hermione looked back to Fluffy, who was starting to sniff at her while a low growl emanated from him.

Harry gripped his wand tighter.

“He won’t hurt us,” replied Hermione.

“How do you know that,” asked Harry quietly?

Hermione gave everyone a puzzled look before answering, “I just do… like I feel as though he won’t… I guess I wasn’t hearing him earlier… I think I was… feeling him.”

To their surprise Fluffy stopped his previous actions and started licking Hermione. Its tail began to wag slowly and its ears perked up. Aside from being huge and having three heads, Fluffy began to act like any friendly canine. It was completely different from the first time they encountered Fluffy when it tried to kill them.

“As you know Hagrid has not been present since the start of the term,” explained Dumbledore,” He is currently completing an assignment for me… the reason for Fluffy’s troubles is the flute.”

“The flute,” inquired Ron?

“Yes… you see Fluffy likes music and Hagrid always played the flute everyday since bringing him here,” continued Dumbledore,” And his instructions to Mr. Gridden were to do just that… or rather just play music for a few hours each day and let Fluffy have a run about.”

“So Fluffy just wants music,” said Harry?

“I felt like he was lonely,” said Hermione confused?

Dumbledore smiled at them and said, “Both of you are correct… Fluffy misses Hagrid and wants music… Fluffy has a special bond with Hagrid and it started with music… that happens with everyone… we each have a special bond with another that creates the foundation of our relationships… and Hagrid, like Fluffy, falls asleep to music as well… Hagrid’s father played the flute before his passing… so Hagrid learned the flute and now plays it for Fluffy.”

“I never knew that about Hagrid,” responded Harry quietly looking towards the ground.

“You can know a person for some time and still have such unique things to learn of them,” replied Dumbledore.

The Headmaster looked to Hermione and added,” Such as what their life was like before they came to Hogwarts and how it has been made better.”

Hermione’s eyes became distant and she turned from Dumbledore to Fluffy.

The Headmaster looked to Ron and added again,” Another example may be what someone valued them-selves prior and how those views changed.”

Ron looked away and picked up the chains, tossing them out the opening.

Harry looked up in puzzlement at the Headmaster and asked,” Who do you mean?”

Dumbledore just smile at Harry and answered,” Those were just merely possible examples… anyone could feel that way… I will see to it that Fluffy receives his daily musical needs.”

Dumbledore with drew his wand and conjured a harp, which began playing immediately. Within seconds Fluffy began to fall asleep to Hermione’s satisfaction. The trio left the pen quietly not saying anything to each other, each having their own thoughts. However, the neigh of a horse caught their attentions.

They looked to see a large unicorn standing outside the Forbidden forest staring at them.

“Ah… Nubius,” spoke Dumbledore suddenly behind them,” It’s been many years since she has stepped from the forest.”

“She’s beautiful,” commented Hermione in awe.

“I do agree,” spoke Dumbledore,” Nubius is one of the first unicorns to have been brought here to Hogwarts for their safety nearly five hundred years ago... unicorns live extensively long life times and can only bare young once every twenty years… it has taken all that time to help the unicorn population to grow to a healthy number.”

“Why is she out here,” asked Ron?

“That is a mystery to which we may never know,” answered Dumbledore,” Unicorns are reclusive and rarely approach humans to be seen… they allow a select few over the years to come and see them… but it is nearly legend for a unicorn to be the one that approaches.”

Harry stared at the magnificent creature and notice it wasn’t looking at them… it was looking at Hermione.

“What does it mean,” asked Hermione?

“Many consider it a kind of blessing or sign of some sort… something to that effect for a unicorn to present itself,” answered Dumbledore quietly,” Whatever its reasons… I can say surely it is a good thing.”

Suddenly Hermione remembered the incident with Harry a while ago when Patti and Lavender surprised them with a camera. She had found a parchment with tarot card descriptions and remembered that the Unicorn card had been one of them. She had forgotten about it since stuffing it in her trunk and realized that even if it was rubbish, it needed to be investigated.

A few moments passed and Nubius sprinted back into the forest. The group headed back to Hogwarts. During lunch Ron was strangely quiet through even during Charms that afternoon, Hermione seemed distracted by something as well.

When evening came, Hermione stayed nearby helping anyone who asked with his or her homework while reading in the meantime. It was then Hermione noticed something. It almost all evening for her fellow Gryffindor fifth years to do their homework but she was getting hers done, all of it, within an hour. Another realization was from the book she was reading, she had checked it out of the library yesterday along with three other books and now the one she had was the only one left to read. She realized this had been going on for some time now. Checking out books and returning them almost a day later, having read them all so easily and quickly, which made the librarian start to give her a funny looks.

-I know I like to read, -thought Hermione, closing the book a moment, -But I didn’t think I could read that fast? -

As the evening passed Hermione considered her plan. The parchment of tarot card readings were described with only basic descriptions and considering the source’s point of view, it would be the scandalous version of the reading. To get a proper reading would require a Divination book on tarot cards. Borrowing from Lavender or just about anyone else would be difficult except Ron.

-He’ll need his book for tomorrow’s class and his homework, -thought Hermione disappointed.

She only had two options for the moment, either the library or Rela. With Rela being outside the House, getting her book would cause less of a stir.

The next problem is when and where to do it. In Gryffindor house was out the question because of too many prying eyes. Finally Hermione decide that the Christmas holiday was best. Most the students would be gone and she could get Ron’s book then.

Evening passed and students went to their dorms. Hermione bid goodnight to Ron and to Harry, touching his shoulder in the process. Harry and Ron left for their dorm as well a short time later having finished their homework. Ron was buttoning his pajama top when he spoke up.

“Harry… was it just me or did you see Hermione’s eyes glow,” asked Ron,” Like how you said mine did?”

“Yeah I saw it too,” answered Harry, closing his trunk, “She did the same thing in Hogsmeade with Neville.”

“When Dobby mentioned or rather said you were some kind of… Elemental,” started Ron before Harry cut in?

“Actually Dobby said that of all of us… you… me… and Hermione,” interrupted Harry,” As well as others but he didn’t say who.”

Ron didn’t anything more at first until Harry inquired himself.

“Why… do you know what he was talking about,” inquired Harry?

Ron didn’t look straight at Harry but just gave a glance as he removed his slippers.

“Not really,” explained Ron,” There’s an old story mum used to tell me about something that involved creatures called Elementals… but I don’t remember it well.”

“Well if it’s a story,” replied Harry getting into bed,” I suppose I could look in the library tomorrow while you’re in Divination.”

Harry leaned over, pulled his journal and writing materials from a drawer in his nightstand. He dipped the quill in ink and began to scribble away.

Ron watched Harry as best as he could but as time passed, so did he is ability to resist the need for sleep.

The next morning when Ron awoke, he found Harry already dressing. One thing Ron knew for sure about Harry was that previous to this year, he had never been an early rise person.

-Damn he did it again, - thought Ron.

Ron didn’t voice his thoughts but hurried himself around to leave with Harry. They both left their fifth year dorm together and met Hermione in the common room, awake and ready as always.

“Why is she always so damn perky in the morning,” grumbled Ron to himself?

After a quick exchange of morning greetings, they left for breakfast like many of their House peers. Only along the way Hermione was checking her bag and made a realization.

“I was sure it was in here with the rest,” mumble Hermione?

“What was,” asked Harry?

“I had some more library books to take back today,” explained Hermione, slightly confused,” And I was sure I put them all in here last night... I’ll just go back and get it then

Harry gave Ron a quick glance before asking, “Do you want us to go with you?”

Hermione shook her head and answered, “No… go ahead… I’m not really hungry so I’ll catch up in a minute.”

She turned and headed back for Gryffindor tower as fast as her body and Prefect position would allow. She entered the common room and headed for her dormitory. Having acquired the book intended, Hermione made to leave her House. She was about to take her first step onto the stairs descending into the common room when a loud screeching noise reached her ears from the boys’ dormitory.

-Everyone should be at breakfast, - thought Hermione, -Then what’s causing that? -

Leaving the book on the handrail and withdrawing her wand, Hermione quietly walked to the door. Hearing other noises, Hermione turned the handle and entered quickly, pointing her wand. The site that greeted her was one of great surprise and shock.

Hedwig sat at an open window, making threatening hoots with her wings spread. Other owls hovered in the air, some caring packages while others held letters. Apparently Hedwig was refusing to let them leave unless the cargo was left behind. The bed baring Harry’s trunk was littered with damaged letters and talon ripped packages.

As if that hadn’t been enough to start a day with such strangeness, Dobby’s presence added to it. The elf stood by the fireplace, its eyes staring with terror at Hermione. Dobby had a pack of letters in his hands and a pile next to him. Hermione glanced at the fireplace and could see numerous parchments and boxes burning within. A few small pieces of parchments sat on Harry’s trunk with a few unopened letters. The other owls suddenly dropped their cargo and Hedwig allowed them to exit but remained perched on the windowsill.

“Dobby,” demanded Hermione, “What is going on here?”

Dobby’s long ears drooped and he looked away, nervously tossing more letters into the flames.

“Dobby is keeping these away from sirs,” replied the elf quietly.

Hermione stepped forward, putting her wand away and picked up some of the damaged letters. It was address to Harry from someone Hermione didn’t know and a quick peruse over the rest showed similar letters. From people and places Hermione never heard of and probably Harry didn’t know either.

Some letters had the smell of perfumes and hearts drawn on them. Others showed the untidy and simplistic print of a child’s writing. Some were very professional and had the feel of business like print on the parchment.

“Perfumes, “whispered Hermione, trailing off, “Girls use perfumes on letters for.”

Hermione gave another look over the letters and packages then eyed Dobby with a question forming in her mind.

“Dobby,” she asked slowly, “Is this… are these… is all this… fan mail?”

Dobby only nodded and tossed the rest of the letters in his hands into the flames.

“Why didn’t Harry say he was getting more of these,” inquired Hermione further, “And why are you just burning them like that?”

“Dobby does not want sirs to be bothered miss,” answered the elf, “Sirs does not know he is getting these.”

Hermione remembered hearing what happened when the Weasley twins made a show of things with the gifts Harry was getting. She also remembered the heated argument that followed. It had been a while since Hedwig delivered a letter to Harry in the Great Hall.

“So Hedwig is rounding up the mail,” deduced Hermione, “And you’re burning all of it so Harry doesn’t know.”

Dobby shook his head, indicating no and pointed to Harry’s trunk replying with, “Not all of it miss.”

Hermione looked down to the few letters on Harry’s trunk and the small parchments she had seen earlier when surmising the scene.

There were three letters from Sirius, Hagrid and Professor Lupin. But the smaller parchments Hermione did not recognize.

The parchments were the size of small cards with very little writing that Hermione didn’t recognized. There was a small picture of a building on the top of them and it looked like Gringotts bank. The only understandable writing Hermione could discern was numbers and symbols of money.

“Five hundred galleons thirty sickles and eighteen knuts… forty sickles and five knuts… nine galleons three sickles and two knuts,” read aloud Hermione, cycling through them, “What are these?”

“Bank notes,” stated a firm voice from behind answering the question.

Hermione turned and found McGonagall standing at the doorway.

“They’re bank notes, Ms. Granger,” answered McGonagall again, “Deposit notes to be more exact.”

Hermione stared at the Professor both with shock at having been a girl caught in the boys’ dormitory, especially a Prefect and that Harry was receiving money for some reason. McGonagall interpreted Hermione’s thoughts through her facial responses and continued to answer.

“We’ll ignore the rule about the dormitory genders as you have discovered the answer to the posts I have been receiving,” further explained McGonagall, “Gringotts owled me this morning to say they had not received a response from the deposit notes.”

Hermione turned her eyes back to the notes in her hands and looked through them again.

“You may not know yet but Potter’s… activities… have spawn a frenzy of marketing,” spoke McGonagall, “Toys have been created… the chocolate frog cards… and many other things… and like muggles… to use a famous person’s name to sell an item requires that the person be entitled to a percentage of the profit… hence the deposit notes.”

Hermione thought more as McGonagall spoke and remembered how Harry had reacted to the chocolate frogs at the Burrow. She realized it was most likely a good thing that Dobby was hiding this from Harry… at least for now.

“So what do we them then,” asked Hermione?

McGonagall stepped forward and gently took hold of the notes in Hermione’s hands.

”Gringotts requires a sign response before the deposits can be made and the goblins are very particular about their paperwork, “answered McGonagall, “Harry is too young to legally sign for these but as his Head of House, I can do so for him and send them back.”

Hermione gave them to the Professor without resistance and watched as she pocketed them.

“How do we tell Harry,” asked Hermione quietly?

Dobby sprinted forth and grabbed Hermione’s hand.

“No miss,” sobbed the elf, “Sirs must not know of this… not now… but when he is better!”

“Why not,” inquired Hermione, kneeling close to the floor, lowering herself to eye level with the elf?

“Harry Potter will be very angry,” sniffed the elf, nervously, “He and his Weazy may fight again… that would be very bad.”

Hermione peered at the elf but she could feel somehow that the elf was hiding something.

“Why,” asked Hermione again?

The elf looked away and seemed to be contemplating a thought when he finally answered with, “Lightening and Fire not always good to each other.”

“Dobby,” began Hermione but the elf pulled its hands away.

In a near instant, Dobby snapped his fingers and all the remaining post shot from Harry’s bed, stuffing them-selves into the fireplace. Dobby apparated away while Hermione remained knelt near the floor. She watched as the all the remaining correspondence created a roaring flame. Sparks flashed as packages and letters endowed with spells and potions of sorts were destroyed.

-This has to be really serious for Dobby to be so reckless, - thought Hermione, - Even in front of McGonagall. -

Then she remembered the description between Ron and Harry. Especially how weird things had begun to act, where with Harry everything became subdue but with Ron all seemed active in some way.

“You should get to the Great Hall for breakfast,” spoke McGonagall, surprising Hermione, “You’ll need your stamina as we finish this week for the holiday break… many of the professors, including myself, shall be going over much of the previous material.”

McGonagall turned and walked away from the dorm and Hermione remained a moment, watching the blaze of flames die down before leaving as well. Breakfast ended at the students went their separate ways to classes. Hermione went to her Arithmacy and Ron to Divination as Harry headed for the library. As the morning progressed Harry wandered the library in search of the story Ron mentioned and the clue Dobby gave. After a while though, the librarian became annoyed by Harry’s wanderings.

“Is there something I can help you find,” snapped the librarian,” Or you do you enjoy trying to wear the floor out?”

“Don’t,” began Harry but instead blushed slightly and bit his tongue as the first thing he wanted say would have only gotten him in much trouble.

“I’m looking for an old story that was told to young children,” answered Harry a moment later.

“Aren’t you a bit old for children’s stories,” asked the librarian with a tone of disbelief?

Harry felt his skin tingle and hair stand on end as he snapped back loudly and with a dark tone, “Considering I didn’t have parents for that… maybe I’d like to catch up on a few things; is that so wrong?”

The bookshelves on either side of him rattled slightly and the librarian took a step back, glancing around for a second.

“Do you know what kind of story you were seeking,” asked the librarian, her voice much lighter, “Or was there a specific title you knew of?”

Harry thought a moment and answered, “A story about creatures called… Elementals?”

The librarian gave Harry a quick piecing look before she answered, “The only one I’m familiar with is called… Degarus, the Chained… and its in the section labeled Myths of Olds… if you like I will help you to get it.”

“No thank you… I’ll find it,” replied Harry leaving her behind without a goodbye.

A few minutes later, Harry had found the book. The only difficulty had been reading the title under the dust. The book seemed as though it had been in place for years but never moved or even touched by a probing finger.

As he brushed the excess dust from the book, there was an image on the cover. It was odd because images in the magic world moved but this one didn’t. Harry assumed that to mean that the book was written before that magic was developed.

The image on the cover was a black and white portrait sketch. The image consisted of a dragon sleeping while covered in chains.

- This is a story you tell kids, - thought Harry judging from the image.

He dusted more of the book before turning back to head for the front desk.

Harry was about to step around the last corner when he heard Hermione and the librarian having a slightly heated argument.

“Ms. Granger as enamored as I am that you so enjoy reading,” spoke the librarian, “I would prefer you check out books you are actually going to read.”

“I did read all of them,” replied Hermione.

“Five books in less than three days,” responded the librarian, “That would be quite difficult even for a very astute reader.”

“Fine then, ask me any question from any book,” retorted Hermione.

And that was exactly what happened, Harry watched from the corner as the librarian picked up different books at random, flipped through some pages and asked Hermione about the material. It continued on for a few minutes and even Harry was surprised to see that Hermione answered correctly to all of them as he had to agree with the librarian to the difficulty of believing a person could read so much material so quickly.

The librarian relented having apparently been proven wrong by Hermione and placed the return to books to one side as Hermione handed her three new books to check out.

Harry suddenly remembered that Hermione had a class at the same time.

“What happened to your class,” asked Harry approaching?

Hermione practically jumped out of skin, as it seemed to feel, having not expecting to run into Harry.

“Oh Harry… oh well the professor decided to give us independent time and go over any material with him privately or in groups on whatever we were having trouble with,” answered Hermione quickly,” So I decided to use my time to come here… why are you here?”

“Got a book,” replied Harry, showing Hermione the book, “I’m trying to figure out something Dobby told me and Ron said it reminds him of a story from his mum.”

Hermione looked at the cover and a puzzled thought crossed her face as she looked at the image.

“Hermione,” slowly asked Harry, “How is it you can read so many books this fast?”

Hermione handed Harry back the book and thought a moment, her skin beginning to blush.

“Well… I’m not entirely sure how,” replied Hermione, blushing still, “But it’ll sound foolish if I tell what it seems like.”

“Not compare to some of the things I’ve done,” responded Harry with a smirk.

Hermione looked into Harry’s eyes and for a moment began entranced by the emerald green. Suddenly it didn’t seem so foolish anymore to say what she thought.

“Every time I open a book… I start flipping forward because it seems like I have read it already,” explained Hermione, “It almost seems like just touching the book is all I have to do to know what’s in it…like I said it sounds foolish.”

Harry thought about Hermione’s answered, what Dobby had said about them and the way Hermione reacted with Fluffy.

- She just knew that Fluffy was in trouble, - thought Harry.

Then he remembered the tarot cards and the thing in his nightmares.

Who did you think it was referring to?

Then Harry remembered something from his present Herbiology book.

Magical properties can be implied to soils for plants as Earth readily absorbs anything it comes in contact with. Animals remains left from a hunt or from natural causes eventually break down and return to the soil as the same is true for magic creatures as their magical properties become absorbed into the earth.

“I don’t think so,” commented Harry, “Maybe… it’s just natural for you to just… absorb the stuff in books easily.”

Hermione smiled brightly, took her books from the librarian and waited for Harry to check out before they left together. Like Harry, she never noticed as they left that the librarian was writing a note, which she sent off with an owl nearby, glancing at the two as she did so.

Most of the morning had already pasted so they went to the Great Hall to await their peers and Ron. Hermione suddenly felt strange and even nervous with Harry so she immediately opened one of her books and began reading. Harry didn’t seem to notice her quick reaction and took to reading his own book as well.

A short while later the bell rang and students came to the Great Hall. Ron slumped down next to Harry, greatly flustered.

“What’s the matter,” inquired Harry?

Ron gave him a quick glance and answered, “A project we’re working on, that is Rela and I, is having some problems and Trelawney had us use the Tarot cards to do some kind of background thing where we interpreted our own past.”

“Didn’t go too well I take it,” asked Harry?

“Actually it worked exactly right,” corrected Ron, “It just wasn’t very enjoyable.”

“Why is that,” asked Hermione now?

“It just wasn’t,” answered Ron before he began eating away at a piece of steak.

Ron tore at the steak in an obviously angry manner, so Hermione and Harry decided to let him cool off a bit before asking any further about it.

A minute later a small pop sounded in the room and every one gave their direct attention to Dumbledore.

“As many of you already know this is the final week before the nice break of the Christmas holiday,” spoke Dumbledore to the students, “And some of you may or may not have notice that we have not looked into who would be staying here at Hogwarts for that duration.”

Murmurs began to break out among the tables and Hermione even questioned to her-self about the delay.

“There is a reason for this and no it is not because we have forgotten,” continued Dumbledore, “Rather the governors have asked for there to a be as few students as possible as they wish to conduct a particular search of the castle.”

The room went quiet and everyone continued to remain attentive to Dumbledore.

“As many of you already know the museum of dark arts was brought down and as the Daily Prophet reported, a number of items were stolen… you also know that there has been trouble in this school with illegal magic… magic that these stolen items can be used to do… thus a search of the school is to be conducted for this reason… only under very strict circumstances will any student be allowed to remain… and I will tell you now that are very few students who fit those requirements.”

Dumbledore sat back in his seat and a moment passed before the Hall filled with the chattering of students.

Hermione turned and stared at Harry, who in turned just looked back. Ron sat silently, chewing slowly on a piece of steak and looked slightly grim before he glanced at his friends. In their stares and silent glances, an agreed thought came to mind; Harry would most likely remain while they could not.

They ate their lunch silently for the rest of the time until the bell rang for afternoon classes. They left with the other students and headed for double Transfiguration.

On the way Hermione finally broke the silence.

“Do you think… you’ll have to go back to the Dursleys’ for the holiday,” slowly asked Hermione?

Harry thought a second before answering, “Not likely… Dumbledore said there would special circumstances.”

Harry continued his answered but changed his voice to more a nasty tone with, “After all they can’t send Harry Potter to the Muggles with Malleck and Voldemort running about, can they?”

“Maybe they’ll let you stay with someone else,” inquired Ron?

Harry looked at him but Hermione face changed to worry and she voiced why.

“Not likely,” she replied quietly, “You… need to have permission from a guardian… and that’s… the Dursleys.”

“What about Snuggles,” added Ron?

“We’ve only a few days,” responded Hermione, “Do you think we could reach him in time?”

Ron looked hopeful until Harry spoke up.

“Don’t bother,” spoke up Harry, “He’s after Wormtail… I don’t want to bother him about this.”

“I don’t think he’d see this as a bother,” commented Hermione.

“Let’s just get to class,” replied Harry plainly, “We can talk about it later… you two go ahead, I’m going to get my book out first.”

Ron and Hermione silently seem to agree as they turned and entered the classroom. Harry reached into his bag and pulled out his Transfiguration book from within. He looked his book and suddenly couldn’t stop him-self as his grip became tighter. The book began to bend and the bronze image on the cover snapped in two.

“Something wrong Potter,” came voice suddenly beside him?

Harry turned suddenly to see Professor Snape standing by.

Harry scowled at his Potions Professor and snapped, “Not anything I intend to tell you.”

Snape expression made it clear he wasn’t too accepting of Harry’s sudden attitude but McGonagall cut in before anything further could happen.

“Come Mr. Potter,” interrupted McGonagall with a brief look to Snape, “We’ll be reviewing and you won’t want to miss anything.”

Harry took a seat next Ron and a moment later the bell rang signaling for class to begin. Snape observed Harry from the corridor watching the boy wizard message his forehead, seeing Ron whisper to him and Hermione sneak glances from up front. A sound behind the professor indicated the presence of another.

“Daken is right… Potter is getting worse,” quietly spoke Snape, “Would you not agree Headmaster?”

Dumbledore came up beside him and both noticed as McGonagall glanced from the front of the room in their direction.

“I once said before that everyone goes through dark times in their life,” replied Dumbledore, “And this is that time for Harry.”

Snape looked hard at the Headmaster and added, “It may become that for everyone if we don’t stop him.”

Dumbledore matched his gaze with the Potions Master and replied, “How would you suggest we do that… use potions to subdue him… like spells people develop resistances to continuous uses of such magical infringements?”

“Lilly would want this prevented,” snapped Snape quietly.

Dumbledore gaze back at Snape a moment before answering, “Yes that is true… but like her… you know that to stop or delay a coming storm… is only to make it worse.”

“Then what have we been doing all this time,” asked Snape, looking to Harry?

Dumbledore stood quietly for a moment before he placed his hand on the shoulder of the Potion Master and answered solemnly, “Delaying… and hoping.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Snape spoke again.

“I saw the special circumstances requirements for the students… and I couldn’t help but notice that only Potter fit those circumstances,” asked Snape, “Which means he will be here at Hogwarts… alone… while we conduct this ridiculous search?”

“It’s not so surprising,” answered Dumbledore quietly but placid as well, “Considering that it was Lucius Malfoy who determined those requirements and delivered them.”

Neither spoke again but observed McGonagall’s class and Harry’s attempts to remain alert. When the bell rang, students went their own ways for the afternoon until the evening feast was available.

Harry, Hermione and Ron went to the Owlery, for their destination after class.

“Lets hope the owl can make to him and back,” said Hermione.

Ron was looking around the Owlery and asked, “Where’s Hedwig?”

Hermione paused a moment while tying the letter to a school owl but then answered with,” She’s probably out for a flight.”

Harry leaned against a vacant wall staring out blankly.

“Do you think we’ll get a reply in time,” asked Ron?

Hermione didn’t answer but Harry did, “Probably not.”

“You never know,” snapped Hermione becoming annoyed with is resistance!

Harry shrugged his shoulders and began to walk towards the stairs.

“I have some reading to do,” said Harry and descended the stairs.

Hermione and Ron exchange a quick look before following. Hermione paused a moment to watch the school owl fly off with her letter.

- I hope he gets in time, - thought Hermione.

The last few days winded down, students became so excited at the approaching holiday that only a few professors could keep order. Harry did his homework quickly and from quick glances, Hermione could see that much of it was incorrect. All Harry would do was read the book he borrowed from the library.

Each passing day, Hermione and Ron kept a watchful and hopeful eye out for an owl to them from Sirius. Hermione even snuck into the boys’ dormitory to check if Hedwig had brought it to Harry’s bed but still nothing. Harry didn’t make things any easier by not showing any interest in the topic or even mentioning it him-self. Hermione suspected that either Harry didn’t want Sirius’s response or was simply trying to hide his real feelings about it.

Harry would sit by the fire and continue to read his book. Meal times he was talkative enough but in class he continued to drift off. Unfortunately the remaining days passed without response from Sirius.

Hermione packed her things slowly while the other girls in her dormitory raced around excitedly. She found the parchment of tarot card descriptions from Lavender but she was in no mood to deal with it then and shoved it into the trunk. Ron was much the same way only instead of slowly packing; he stuffed his trunk angrily. Harry sat in the common room watching as his Gryffindor peers said quick goodbyes to each other and to him before heading out the portrait hole. When Hermione and Ron were ready, they set off together to the castle entrance.

“See you in a week, “grumbled Ron, looking away.

Hermione looked at Harry, standing in front of them with a smile but she could see something in his eyes, they were less green than usual again, a sure sign of something happening within.

Regardless of what people saw or thought, Hermione launched herself forward and wrapped Harry in a tight embrace. It a moment before she felt his hands touch her back and she fought back her anger of the situation enough to give an encouraging farewell until the end of the holiday.

With so much to be said and little time for it, as they were ushered to the horseless carriages, Hermione and Ron left Harry in the entrance. She got enough of a last look to see Harry turn away and head further into the castle interior.

Outside, at the carriages, Ron snatched Hermione’s trunk and easily lifted into the storage net. Hermione climbed into the carriage to find Rela already there and Ron followed a second later.

After a few minutes passed, Ron looked out the window, to see that the other carriages were moving but not theirs. Ron was about to reach for the door when it flew open and Dumbledore climbed in. With the Headmaster unexpected arrival, the carriage began moving, following along with the others.

“I hope its okay for me to sneak ride,” said Dumbledore humorously, “It has been sometime since I’ve seen the students off on the train.”

For a while the carriage traveled along its path, the wood creaking and groaning as it hit bumps and winter winds blew against it. They all sat silently during that time.

Rela kept glancing between Hermione and Ron, and then nervously looking out the window as the carriage rattled its way to Hogsmeade.

The image of Harry in the entrance, watching them leave, turning away and all the while his eyes were in that state kept haunting Hermione. She tried to think of anything else but it was no use, the images continued. After an undetermined amount of time, Hermione could stand it no more and had to say what was on her mind.

However, Ron spoke before she could utter a word.

“What is going on with Harry,” demanded Ron, quite rudely to Dumbledore?

Dumbledore just smiled at Ron, but before replying Ron snapped at him again.

“Answer me,” growled Ron, “You always seem to know what’s going on and I’ll bet every frog card I have that you’re clued in on him!”

Rela gasped at Ron’s sudden attitude and Hermione couldn’t do more than just stare at him.

Dumbledore’s smile thinned and gave Ron an examining look.

“Ron,” whispered Hermione?

Ron gave her a quick glare before turning back to Dumbledore.

“A comparison is the best way to start the answer,” spoke Dumbledore quietly.

Ron said nothing but continued to glare.

“Over four years of Herbiology you have, I presume in all that time, learned many things,” continued Dumbledore, inquiring slightly?

Hermione and Ron shook their heads and Rela nodded slightly.

“And Ron, your mother has her own garden, correct,” asked Dumbledore?

Ron shook his head but his irritation was becoming clear.

“Many seedlings start out in pots and begin their growth in such a small place,” explained Dumbledore before asking, “And what happens as the plant increases in size and matures?”

Ron was beginning to look even more displeased but Hermione answered the question.

“You transplant them from the pot to a garden or someplace better,” answered Hermione, a slight confusion in her tone.

“Yes,” replied Dumbledore, “And what happens if that is not done?”

Rela answered the question with, “The roots bind and plant suffers.”

Ron’s glare lightened and confusion began to take its place.

“Exactly,” piped Dumbledore, “The plant begins to suffer when it cannot grow anymore.”

As confusion crept into Ron’s features anger followed, the explanation was not satisfying him.

“When Hagrid first got Fluffy,” continued Dumbledore despite Ron’s reactions, “The dear creature was in terrible shape… the wizard who had him was unaware of the size Fluffy would reach and kept it in a small room… when Hagrid had brought Fluffy to Hogwarts, it could barely walk… much of his fur was gone… some teeth were broken and infected… mostly from malnutrition and lack of exercise… a creature like that is not meant to be kept locked away.”

Finally Ron could stand it no more and stood, yelling, “What do plants and that damn dog have to do with Harry?”

Rela looked really scared and Hermione wasn’t sure what to say, even Dumbledore couldn’t stand for this behavior.

“Wasn’t Harry kept in a cupboard,” answered Dumbledore plainly, “A small… dark… cramp… and lonely cupboard?”

Ron sat back down and the growing anger seemed to vanish.

“Exactly, “continued Dumbledore, his voice kind again, “Harry has had little room to grow and develop… because of that he has very little in the way of emotional tools to deal with the turmoil within.”

Ron stared at the floor slightly, a tear slid down Hermione’s cheek as she stared blankly at the aged wizard and Rela turned to look out the window completely.

“For the time now, you two have been like a pot for Harry,” spoke Dumbledore very gently, “You two have given him a chance to grow with your friendship and caring… something he has had very little if any of.”

Dumbledore paused for a moment letting silence reign while glancing out the window to see buildings from the Hogsmeade coming into view.

“Now Harry needs to grow and enter into a new world like a plant moved from a pot to a garden,” spoke Dumbledore again, “The adjustment is very hard for him… little interaction with others for so long… no foundation for new emotions and feelings he’s developing… and the effects of the Colossus Orb is made it many times worse.”

Everyone turned back to Dumbledore now.

“As Ron has no doubt informed you Rela and Hermione you have seen it yourself like Ron,” continued Dumbledore again, “Harry seems to have acquired a new ability to absorb magic… as he absorbed the lightening magic core from the orb.”

Dumbledore met each of their gazes in turn.

“The orb like any is to be used in conjunction with a staff or scepter… so as it is connected directly to it… Harry however held the orb while he used a reversed version of the shield spell…very advanced magic… I’m still curious to know how he knew to do that.”

Hermione suddenly had a question as she asked, “So Harry is able to do the things he has because of the orb?”

Dumbledore gazed a moment at her before answering, “The magic itself… no… that is a natural ability like each of you have noticed with yourselves… rather the orb has only accelerated something his body was originally not prepared to handle at this time.”

“Not prepared,” question Rela suddenly speaking?

Ron answered before Dumbledore responded, “The infusion… vampire blood… Harry may not be a vampire but an infusion to still leaves side effects… his bleeding… coughing blood… the bleeding nose… after the infusion he doesn’t bleed when he does stuff… unless its from his scar… he’s been conditioned… it doesn’t hurt as much.”

Dumbledore smiled and glanced out the window again, Hogsmeade buildings began to pass by, signaling their expiring time.

“You have an idea of the nightmares that lash at him during his slumber,” spoke Dumbledore quickly, “Basically… in a way… what Harry faces his another part of his personality… strengthened by the events from last term… strengthened by the orb’s involvement… fueled by the repressed rage from his life… now its feeding on the current events… and the frictions within himself… it may not be long before Harry stops ignoring or turning away from it… and you all are part of the resolution to this danger.”

“What can we do while Harry’s at Hogwarts and we’re not,” asked Ron surprisingly calm?

“That is the work of another,” answered Dumbledore quietly, “But I have already seen to it that the plan fails.”

Voices could be heard in the distance, voices of other students and the sound of train engine.

“How did Fluffy get better,” asked Rela?

Dumbledore glanced out the window and looked back to answer.

“Our time is short but so I must make my response the same, “replied Dumbledore quickly, “It most of the year before your first arrivals for Fluffy to become healthy… but the effects of his life stayed with him… Hagrid played music for him everyday but no matter the food or shelter or kind word… Fluffy would let no human near him, not even Hagrid... then a few months before your first terms a terrible storm came… a few unicorns were hurt by falling trees in the forest… Hagrid brought them to the pen and treated them… I don’t have to tell you how valuable unicorn blood is to the dark market but a small group of wizards made an attempt on those injured unicorns… Hagrid tried to stop them but without the privilege to use magic… Hagrid was injured in the struggle and Fluffy saw it all from his doghouse… in that instance something occurred and Fluffy attacked… out of eight intruders only one survived to be taken to Azkaban… but that day forth Fluffy never issued so much as a growl to Hagrid and is as gentle to him as Hagrid his with human friends… that was why Fluffy was the best choice to be the first guard to the sorcerer’s stone… because Fluffy would show no mercy to anyone but Hagrid… and so I fear Harry may for a time become like that.”

The carriage stopped, the carriage door swung open and a train usher greeted them.

For the moment, the three students were too amazed by Dumbledore to realize what was happening.

“Go now,” ushered Dumbledore, “Believe me… I will not allow a creature to suffer if I can prevent it… that is why Hagrid received my direct permission easily to bring Fluffy to Hogwarts… I will see to it that a plant with binding roots finds a better place to grow… much has been done that you do not know of yet… so go… and be ready for anything.”

Each student left the carriage, Ron first and helped the girls out. Dumbledore remain and watched the train leave. As it departed, so did the carriage in which the Headmaster was seated, while the rest remain behind. Onlookers not watching the train may have noticed that the carriage was traveling very quickly back to Hogwarts.

Afternoon came and Harry sat in the empty Great Hall. He simply wanted a sandwich and to no surprise that was what was waiting for him, no doubt in his mind that it was of Dobby’s doing.

He ate slowly for a while until Hedwig flew in, landing next him. The owl hooted and Harry shared his lunch with the bird, receiving gentle nips in return.

After lunch, Harry wandered about the castle, seeing Professors here and there. He was amazed at just how quiet the castle was without his fellow peers. Peeves popped up a few times making nasty comments but the poltergeist seemed bothered that there was no audience aside from Harry.

In time early evening came and tired of walking, Harry returned to the common room.

Harry stood in the quiet common room, as the fireplace crackle, looking around. The room was split with empty chairs and clear tables to one side while sofas and plush chairs grouped the opposite, near the fireplace. A vase, normally brandishing flowers, sat on a column stool beside him.

Harry glared at the vase from the corner of his eye. His face twisted in silent anger and in quick move Harry backhanded the vase off the stool, knocking it to the floor. The vase shattered to pieces, scattering along the floor, filling the room with a resonating pitch of breaking porcelain. Harry stood in place, his breathing slow and deep, as he watched the column stool wobble from the falling vase.

“Is there a problem Harry,” asked a calm voice from the entrance?

Harry turned suddenly to see Dumbledore standing at the portrait entrance with a small smile.

“No,” answered Harry quietly, “I… I just wanted to break something.”

Dumbledore said nothing at first but walked forward and sat down. Harry remained in place, looking away from the Headmaster.

“I have some news for you… but before that, “continued Dumbledore, “Let me ask you a few things.”

Harry glanced quickly at Dumbledore and asked in puzzlement, “What things?”

Dumbledore looked from Harry to the chair in front of him-self and Harry took a seat from the cue.

“I was wondering… if you don’t mind me asking,” asked Dumbledore, “How are things between you, Ron and Hermione?”

“Okay I suppose,” replied Harry.

Dumbledore stared at Harry with a smile saying nothing at first.

“What,” asked Harry during the short silence?

“You haven’t been very forthcoming with them,” replied Dumbledore, “Of course… they too are keeping things hidden as well.”

Harry matched Dumbledore’s gaze and asked, “So… I never heard that we had to tell each other everything?”

Dumbledore stroked his beard a moment and replied, “That is true… there is nothing wrong with a secret or two held privately… however there are also secrets we shouldn’t hide… especially ones that cause us pain… or prolong it.”

Harry stared at the Headmaster in both worry and wonder.

“I too have secrets… and I have one about you,” said Dumbledore, his tone suddenly serious, “I know what you have been dreaming… or should I say nightmares.”

Harry could feel his skin go cold and couldn’t blink while looking at the headmaster.

“I know of the terrible voice that sometimes rings in your ears, “continued Dumbledore, “When you’re angry, its words replay… when you’ve ‘observed’ Hermione... you’re reminded of its insinuations… and other times as well.”

Harry remained in his state and shifted nervously when Dumbledore mentioned Hermione.

“Yes… I know of those kinds of thoughts… not yours particularly,” said Dumbledore with a chuckle, “You’re about that age when that sort thing should begin happening.”

Harry looked away and Dumbledore cleared his throat stopping his chuckling.

“There’s something else you should know,” said Dumbledore his tone serious again, “Fear is a force that blinds and chokes like a putrid fog… guilt consumes and traps like a fierce cold in a dark maze.”

Harry got up suddenly and walked a few steps away, keeping his back to Dumbledore.

“Anger fuels and strengthens the dark parts of us within the soul,” continued Dumbledore, “Like an evil voice in all of that urging us to do other things… things we would normally not want to do.”

Harry said nothing but clenched his fists, shaking slightly.

“We all have that voice… that creature within us… the other way or path we can go… it is harder for you because of the way your life has gone.”

Harry’s breathing became rapid and the fire began to dim.

“Years with the Dursleys and then all the dangers in your life here… all of that is accumulating and continuing to do so… and you do not let that strain out… unfortunately you do this because you don’t know how to let it go.”

The temperature in the room began to chill quickly and a rumbling could be heard outside.

“However now you do have a way.”

The fireplace was nearly void of flame and the pitcher nearby split as the water froze, breaking it.

“You have always felt better when you are around or talk with Ron… and Hermione.”

The fireplace roared back with flames and the chilling air stopped. Rumbling sound had faded and the frozen water turned to liquid again.

“Don’t keep things away from them anymore… you’d be surprised what secrets they have and how strongly you have affected them… for the better.”

Harry seemed to calm, his fist went unclenched and his color went normal again.

“They want to help you… they made that choice already… they already know the danger around you… they could have left at any time… but the thrill and the need to do what’s right is in their being as well as yours… so stopping them is pointless.”

Harry put his hand to his face wiping at his eyes and asked quietly, “Then what should I do?”

“Do what you feel is right,” answered Dumbledore kindly, “I would suggest protect them as they choose to protect you... you have learned from the Degarus story what you and they may just be.”

Raised voices soon reached Harry’s ears before the portrait swung open. In the shadowed entrance a figure walked through while the raised voices became clearer. Harry knew one voice to be McGonagall but the other he wasn’t sure of. When the figure emerged, Harry came to see a boy about his age with flaming red hair that he had seen leave that morning.

“Ron,” inquired Harry?

Ron stood smirking at Harry and replied, “Bet you weren’t expecting to see me so soon.”

Harry was still taking in the surprise of Ron’s arrival when the raised voices stopped and heavy walking could be heard in its place. The radiance of the firelight soon illuminated Professor McGonagall and the woman she was arguing with. A woman Harry knew as Mrs. Weasley.

“Dumbledore,” snapped Mrs. Weasley angrily, stomping her way to the headmaster,” I cannot believe you’d allow this… and after everything we spoke of already… I demand that Harry be allowed to leave this instant!”

Dumbledore raised his hand and Mrs. Weasley stopped talking suddenly. Dumbledore reached into a pocket within his robes and pulled out a folded parchment.

“I said I had some news for you,” spoke Dumbledore,” While my robes were being laundered, one of the house elves found a letter in my pocket… I must have forgotten it with all the business of the holiday approaching.”

Dumbledore unfolded the note and gave it a brief read before continuing.

“When I received word of the governors’ wishes,” continued Dumbledore happily, “I sent an owl to a certain person… who I think we best keep nameless for the moment… and received an owl in reply… a reply that gives permission to leave Hogwarts… to stay with whoever welcomes you.”

Dumbledore turned his gaze to Mrs. Weasley and then back to Harry.

“And Molly appears to have already made her opinion of that clear,” finished Dumbledore.

Harry stared at them all dumbfounded before shaking his head and asking, “But Malleck and Voldemort are still out there.”

“Never mind that,” answered Mrs. Weasley snappishly, “You’re coming home and that’s final… Ron, help him get his trunk.”

Ron took a few steps forward and Harry began turn away before Dumbledore interrupted.

“I think you’ll find that Dobby has taken care of that, “spoke up Dumbledore, “It may be best to go… now… before the evening grows any later that is.”

Harry took a few hesitates steps forward, stopping a moment and then continuing normally. Ron walked beside him and Mrs. Weasley gave a quick hug and led the boys out of Gryffindor house.

Outside a person standing in a shadowed corner watched the portrait swing open again and watch Mrs. Weasley and the two boys leave.

“So they came and claimed him,” spoke the person, silver in their eyes glowing slightly, and then whispered viciously, “How sweet.”

“You didn’t really think Dumbledore couldn’t see through your attempt,” said another voice behind the person “Did you Lucius?”

Lucius Malfoy turned and in the shadow behind him stood another pair of brighter glowing silver eyes, familiar eyes.

“It’s only a small set back,” replied Malfoy, “The paupers have only put themselves in great danger now… but I’m sure you know that already Daken.”

“Aren’t you worried that in this so called search for Malleck, “spoke Daken stepping into clearer view, “That he’ll use this chance to eliminate some followers of his enemy.”

“I’m not his intended victim,” answered Malfoy, turning and walking away, “Its race to see who’ll get Potter first.”

Daken looked down the stairway where Harry and the Weasleys were walking before whispering aloud to him-self, “It might just be Potter who gets us first… the storm is ready to break.”

Back in the common room the portrait door began to swing back and McGonagall watched it close before she looked at the Headmaster.

“It doesn’t seem like you to misplace a letter from Sirius,” inquired McGonagall in puzzlement?

“I suppose my many years are catching up to me,” replied Dumbledore with a humored smile.

McGonagall just eyed the Headmaster for a moment before nodding with acceptance and began to walk away, leaving the Headmaster behind.

She had almost stepped out when Dumbledore’s voice carried out from behind her.

“I wonder which has the stronger affect… to simply be told you can stay with friends… or having those same friends show up unexpectedly and demand that you go home with them,” spoke Dumbledore suddenly, “Either way… home is where one is most wanted… a family is those who most wants you… and I would much prefer Harry to be in such a place… at Home for the Holiday.”

Next Chapter

Lonely No More

23. Lonely No More

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I don’t know anything about Hermione’s home, parents (besides being muggles and dentists) or her life previous to Hogwarts; so much of it is created from my own imagination and my opinions of Hermione. I said a number of times before already that I’m most likely wrong and so I just hope the readers simply enjoy my version of things.

I don’t know the names of Hermione’s parents so I used the names of two of my favorite British characters. If they don’t seem to fit, then you’re probably right.

I’m going to do some dream stuff again and like before its all via Harry’s eyes, in case I don’t make that clear enough.

There’ll be a mentioning about clothes and please note, I’m not a fashion person. I known nothing of the subject besides what I like so please don’t be too judgmental.

Also, before posting it, I pulled two scenes from the chapter so it’s slightly shorter than it should. I did this because I felt they pulled from the chapter’s point too much.

I just want to mention that when I started this fan fiction, my intention was to complete it before the fifth book was released. However because of work and school I was not able to achieve this. I have every intention of completing this fan fiction but I wish to say that I do not expect anyone to take time from reading the new book to read my fan fiction, as I too will be indulging in it for a majority of my free time between necessities. I do ask that when you have read the book four or five times and need a break, to please consider my fan fiction for refreshment.

Otherwise I hope you all enjoy the highly anticipated book as I am.

Revised 7/14/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 23

Lonely No More

Hermione stood in her room, looking around, having set her trunk down.

The train ride home had been the worst she had ever known. Rela sat with her and Ron along with Ginny and Neville. Rela was just staring out the window like she was refusing to look at anybody for some reason. Ron sat on edge, glancing out the window occasionally, even mumbling to him-self a few times. The lady with the sweet cart found out the hard way as the moment she opened the door to ask about treats, Ron slammed it shut, shattering the windows and with such force, the door broke off the rail. She stood surprised but Ron glared at her and Hermione just noticed an orange tint to his eyes.

Neville and Ginny tried to be helpful with small talk but it was no use. Neither received a response from Ron and Hermione gave quick answers to things but otherwise was distracted by her other thoughts.

The entire ride home she could only think of Harry at the castle entrance. She spent a great deal of time trying to figure out what it was she saw in his eyes and after hearing Dumbledore and remembering her own life, she had come to realized what it was.

Yearning…

He wanted to leave with them as much as she had wanted to stay. There was little doubt that Ron felt the same way.

But now she stood in her room and looked around to see the fine layer of dust on all but one of her things. A frame of Harry’s picture, from the set sent to her earlier. It was a new addition to her room and so time had not had the chance to include it in the film of dust that presided.

Normally the first task Hermione would have done would be to have cleaned the dust but her distracted mind caused her actions to skip that part. She opened her trunk and began to remove items from it, laying them neatly and in order on the bed. She started with her clothes, sweaters in one place, skirts, socks, leg warmers and undergarments all in neat stacks upon the bedspread. After removing the clothes, she then sorted school items. Books went to a bookcase, potions ingredients to a shelf, parchments and writing materials to her desk. Now all that was left was to put her clothes away in their perspective places as well.

Hermione opened her closet and turned to her bed. All the different clothing items in their neat folded stacks, sorted systematically, but in that moment Hermione hated every bit of it. In one quick move, she grabbed the bedspread and jerked it to one side. All the clothes fell to the floor, a mixed, messy heap that she didn’t care about. Hermione fell on her bed and sobbed into her pillow.

She didn’t hear the squeak of the door or feel as someone came to set beside her. A hand touched the back of Hermione’s head and she jerked herself away from the pillow to see a comforting face looking back… the face of her mother Jean Granger.

“Tell me what happened,” spoke her mother gently.

Her tears didn’t stop but lightened as Hermione told her mother most of the events concerning the last week.

Mrs. Granger never said a word, even during the times Hermione paused, until everything her daughter had to say was done.

“I sound so stupid,” sniffed Hermione, having finished her tale, “I can’t seem to speak my mind… I’m nervous constantly… I don’t feel like myself anyone… I’ve must have left myself become really pathetic.”

Her mother slowly placed her hand on Hermione’s chin, tilting her face to look directly at her mother.

“Don’t ever say that again,” stated Jean, “You’re not anything of a sort… you’re going through what I did about this time… the same thing nearly every girl goes through.”

Her mother wiped away at Hermione’s cheeks and then quietly added,” You’re changing… so everything you feel and understand is all mixed up with those new things and feelings… it’ll be like that for a while… but when its done you’ll be your-self again… only there be a whole new side to you.”

“I should have done something more,” whispered Hermione, slightly angered, “Besides just… just… getting all emotional.”

Her mother leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Hermione, pulling her closer into an embrace. Hermione followed in suit and for a moment they sat there together while her mother stroked the back of the Hermione’s head, rocking slightly.

Then Mrs. Granger whispered, “No… there’s nothing wrong with being emotional about someone you care for.”

Hermione was too surprised by her mother’s words to do more than become stiff.

“You’ve talked about this boy since starting at that school,” continued Mrs. Granger, sensing her daughter’s actions, “I saw how you looked when those pictures came and I see how your eyes are when you talk about him…. witch or not… you’re still a girl… soon to be a young woman… and I knew you’d feel this way about a boy at some point… whether it be Harry or another.”

Hermione pulled back a little and looked at her mother, slightly puzzled but also worried.

“I won’t deny that this makes me uncomfortable…you’re still so young… and I suppose no mother is ever ready to accept that their child is becoming an adult… taking those first steps… having those feelings for another,” continued Mrs. Granger slowly, “But that doesn’t mean I’m against it… like I said I was in your place once before… I know what that turmoil within feels like.”

Mrs. Granger broke their embrace and wiped away the last of Hermione’s tears, placing both hands gently on her daughter’s face.

“Growing up is like… like… becoming a flower,” explained Mrs. Granger, “As a child you’re a seed… then the time comes for you to break from the shell… and reach for the sky… your future… this is the hardest stage of it all… pushing your way through, branching out… but the time will come for you to bloom… and I know you’ll be among the best of them all then.”

Hermione sat in awe of her mother and the response. So much of what she said made so much sense. Though it didn’t solve her resentment for Harry’s situation, it did make her feel that she could find a way to solve it. But she did wonder for a second why her mother had used a flower’s growth as the example.

Jean slid off the bed and stood up.

“Why don’t you take care of your clothes,” said Jean brightly, “Then we’ll have some tea and a bit of a snack before bed.”

Hermione shook her head and slid off the bed as well towards the fallen clothes.

“Oh by the way, you received a post from a strange owl,” added Mrs. Granger quickly as started to close the door behind her, “Funny bird… I have never seen an owl so small… or so energetic.”

The owl her mother described could only be one bird in particular, Hermione could recognize from that description. Hermione looked at her mother as she stepping out and saw that she had paused to point to the nightstand. There a letter set, Hermione must have missed it somehow but notice the untidy scrawl on it. She rushed over to it while her mother stepped out and tore it open. It took only a moment to understand what it said but the news was enjoyable enough that Hermione ignored the rules of underage magical use outside of Hogwarts and whisked the fallen clothes to their proper places with her wand. Hermione then dashed out of her room nearly screaming with delight as she reread the letter.

Elsewhere, mid evening had come and the door to the Burrow opened to allow entrance to arrivals. Ron entered along with his mother and Harry followed from behind. Awaiting them were Charlie along with Ginny in the living room. Both eagerly greeted Harry and soon, thudding sounds from the stairs revealed George and Fred coming to greet them as well. Even Mr. Weasley popped in from his muggle-laden shed of junk.

Mrs. Weasley insisted on a late supper for them, even though Harry tried to say that a snack was more than enough but she wouldn’t hear of it. Charlie explained that Bill was in Russia seeking a hidden treasure for Gringotts. With everyone around, including Charlie, Harry couldn’t help but feel that something was missing or maybe someone.

It was hard to dwell on it as Mrs. Weasley continuous insisted that Harry keep taking helpings, trying to stuff him as if he were a swine being fattened before the feast.

It wasn’t too long before Harry would get an answer when Mrs. Weasley shooed them from the kitchen, impressing that Harry should get his things unpacked for the holiday stay. Charlie and Mrs. Weasley remained in the kitchen while Harry with the younger Weasleys left through the living room and ascended the stairs to the separate rooms. Ginny quickly shut herself in with barely a goodnight and the twins’ room was already rattling with strange noises before they could shut the door.

Harry continued on the stairs towards Ron’s room when his friend’s voice stopped him.

“Where’re you going,” asked Ron standing in front of another door, “Your room’s here.”

Harry turned and watched, puzzled, as Ron opened the door Harry had passed and entered. After a moment of waiting, Harry headed back and entered as well.

Dumbledore had been right, Dobby had seen to his trunk and belongings as it was already at the foot of a bed within the room. The room was barren of any paintings or imagery on the walls but it had a dresser, bed and a closet. Ron was opening it and taking things out. For the first minutes, Harry watched Ron from the doorway and could see that his friend was starting to have some strange difficulty with the room. Ron would hesitate occasionally and sometimes giving the room a look over with a scowl.

“Ron,” inquired Harry, “Is there some… reason… as to why I’m in here rather than your room?”

Ron gave a slight chuckle and responded, “No… it’s just that we’re both a bit too big now to bunk up in my small room…so we got you a room.”

Harry looked around the room again and a strange familiarity came to mind. It took a few moments before Harry realized why and asked.

“Ron,” asked Harry, quietly and cautiously, “Isn’t this Percy’s room?”

As Harry asked, he remembered having not seen Ron’s brother even when brought to the Burrow before the term started. Ron froze in place while preparing to put more items into a dresser. Then he opened a drawer, put the items inside, slamming it closed and turned back to the trunk.

“Yeah,” he replied stiffly, “It used to be anyways.”

Harry looked around again, seeing as the room was bare of any sign of previous residence. However Harry had a strange feeling from the room and couldn’t help but inquire further.

“So he’s got his own flat,” continued Harry?

“I suppose,” shrugged Ron, mumbling quietly after that.

He snatched some more clothes from Harry’s trunk and shoved them into another drawer within the dresser, closing it roughly. Harry didn’t need to as quick as Hermione to know something about this room and Percy was making Ron angry. Harry stared at his friend and considered letting it go, but as cold draft breezing by, he relented to him-self to continue.

“So where is Percy,” asked Harry plainly?

“Don’t know,” replied Ron just as plainly.

“Maybe you’re mum does,” suggested Harry?

Harry winced as the lid of his trunk slammed shut, banging loudly in the process. Things went silent, even the sounds from the twins room stopped along with the ghoul in the attic.

“No one knows where that bloody idiot went,” shouted Ron, rounding on Harry, “He just up and vanished!”

Harry stared at Ron as an orange tint came to his eyes and the room seemed to heat up.

Lowering his volume, Ron snapped, “He just left.”

Harry didn’t know how to react or what to say but he replied with, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Ron turned around, looking somewhat out the window.

“I know that… when the summer holiday began… Percy and dad kept having arguments,” explained Ron,” Dad kept trying to get Percy to get it through that thick skull that Barty Crouch sneaked his own son out of Azkaban… used the unforgivable curse on him… and well you know the rest… but Percy wouldn’t believe it... any of it… one day mum went up to get him to come to breakfast but… he was…well you saw how the room looked.”

Harry understood it well enough to get the picture and could easily imagine Mrs. Weasley walking into the near vacant room. No note or any indication… just gone.

“Maybe the ministry could find him,” suggested Harry, “He works for them. They ought to know?”

“I really don’t give a damn,” snapped Ron.

“But he’s your brother,” asked Harry in confusion?

“Just because he’s my brother doesn’t make him anything to me,” shouted Ron furiously, “You’re more of a brother to me than that bastard!”

Harry stared at Ron, confusion rampant in his expression

Ron gave a strange heavy sigh and slumped onto the bed. He leaned forward enough and put his forehead into his hands.

“Look I know you don’t get it… but before my life at Hogwarts,” whispered Ron,” I… I never… I never really felt like I was part of anything… guess I just kind of felt alone.”

“Ron,” began Harry but his friend cut in?

“I’m not like anyone in this family… because there isn’t anybody I relate to, “continued Ron quietly, “You’ve seen how they all are…. Charlie’s strong and Bill’s smooth… Percy’s smart… they’ve all been prefects and head boys… the twins, are funny, always involved in something and popular at school… as far as I can remember, Ginny and Mum have always had their own thing... and dad… well he’s all obsessed with muggles… so what am I?”

“Well,” replied Harry, trying to think of a response to Ron, “You’re… you’ve always been the best friend I could ever hope for?”

Ron turned his head and gave a strange look.

“I used to think that’s all I was,” responded Ron, “Harry’s friend… the little side kick pal to the Boy Who Lived… I think that’s how most everyone thought of me.”

Harry thought as hard as he could mostly drawing a blank to what he could say. Thankfully Ron continued before Harry’s lack of aid became evident.

“Just thought I wasn’t worth anything,” continued Ron again but his voice began to take on a more pleasant tone, “That first year, I thought I was only going to Hogwarts because everyone else went… I don’t remember showing any magical ability before hand… not like you… talking to snakes and making glass vanish.”

Harry finally thought of something, though he dreaded how foolish and halfhearted it might sound.

“Ron… you’re not worthless,” quietly spoke Harry, hesitating slightly, “I never thought that way… that day in the Great Hall… I said what I said because I was… I don’t know… afraid of something… that… that might happen.”

Ron turned his head from his hands, glanced at Harry again before he lowered them and gave his friend a full look from his face.

“I know that now,” responded Ron, giving a quick humored huff, “Trolls, dark wizards, criminals, even a dragon… a whole mess of things I’d never have done if I hadn’t followed you.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to say besides just look back, realizing just how much danger he had dragged Ron into. Ron must have deduced Harry’s thoughts as he responded to the thoughts in Harry’s mind.

“Not that I’m bothered by it, “quickly added Ron, “Sure nearly getting killed isn’t a wonderful thing… but that day we faced the troll… it was great to know that I used magic successfully… I knocked that thing flat out… I think that was the first time I believed I really could be a real wizard… and it might not have happened if you hadn’t brought me into it all.”

Now a question came to Harry’s mind from Ron’s confessions.

“Why did you spend all that time at the ministry,” inquired Harry, “Hermione’s right… you were never one to indulge in so much practice… not that I’m any better?”

Ron thought uneasily for a moment before answering with, “There were a few different reasons… but it started a lot from the end of last term… Harry when you port keyed back… from that place… I realized… I hadn’t been any help to you.”

“Any help,” questioned Harry?

Ron drew a deep breath and released it.

“I wasn’t able to do anything to stop what happened,” spoke Ron with a strange placid tone, “It’s always been you who has to face everything… you faced Quirrel alone… the basilisk alone… mind you that involved my own sister, you’d think I would have done more… you charged the troll… you attacked Sirius… you faced those dementors… you took on Voldemort again… and where was I… in the background… not very helpful position.”

Harry tried to mumble something of an audible response but the truth was Ron was mostly right that Harry had to face many dangers alone.

“Well not anymore,” snapped Ron, “I don’t worry about whether I’m worth something or not… I don’t feel like I did before… so the hell with the danger… I spent most of the time at the ministry trying to learn every spell I could get my hands on because I swore that this year was going to be different… you were not going to face anything alone again… even the real Mad Eye Moody taught me a few things.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile a little. He didn’t feel too comfortable about the conversation but it seemed to be something Ron needed to say and Harry didn’t know what else to do.

“That’s why I followed you so much,” added Ron, “Figured if I was with all the time, then if anything happened to you, it would have to happen to me as well… then they’d have to deal with the both of us.”

Silence filled the room for a short while Harry tried to contemplate everything Ron had said but whether he understood or not, Ron seemed to be better having said what he needed to.

Neither boy noticed the door to the room as it quietly shut.

Ron stood up and stretched before stating, “Well it’s getting late, I’m off to bed and we don’t have to up early so I’m going to have a lie in… goodnight.”

And with that Ron left the room.

Harry replayed the Ron’s words in his mind as he changed into pajamas. It was strange to think that he had so much of an effect on Ron. Nearly four years and it never seem to him that Ron thought that way but then Dumbledore’s words replayed as well.

You can know a person for some time and still have such unique things to learn of them…

Such as what their life was like before they came to Hogwarts and how it has been made better…

What someone valued them-selves prior and how those views have changed...

Harry wasn’t completely sure but he wondered if Dumbledore was referring to others and not just Ron.

Harry climbed into bed and continued to dwell on Ron’s words. Thinking it strange that Ron would be so resistive to his brother or that he valued all the danger Harry had brought to his life. All of those thoughts kept Harry distracted from realizing that his eyes were drooping.

I really don’t appreciate the attempt to being ignored…

Spoke a familiar dark voice, laced with viciousness behind Harry.

Harry found him-self in a place he knew but had tried not to return.

What is it going to take to get you to understand that our union is inevitable?

“An awful lot,” snapped Harry, turning around, “I don’t want the same things you do.”

Harry looked on again to see the demon-eyed creature standing before him. A clear outline showed a figure, most likely a male about his height, standing a fair distance away.

A low chuckling echoed from the creature’s blood red eyes before its voice growled out…

Oh really…who was it that broke the vase… what were you thinking when the librarian came… it wasn’t just me who wanted Snape’s neck to break… I didn’t bend your book into near two… so don’t patronize me by saying you want nothing that I do.

Harry remembered the incidents and had to relent to the accusing words.

The low chuckling returned and it spoke again…

I said before that I would get freedom from you… but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any similar desires I share with you.

“There couldn’t be anything,” stated Harry, taking a few steps forward.

A silence remained for a moment before it corrected Harry…

Do you understand why the girls giggle around you… do you know why their appearance is so distracting… what they offer to someone of your… social stature… its something I want… and there is no point in denying those thoughts swirling about in this void called a mind.

Harry could feel himself go warm in the face, sure sign that he was blushing. It was then Harry noticed something. Even if caused by the embarrassing truths being said, he was feeling warm and normal otherwise. The cold within the maze was different, still freezing but not numbingly so. What he really seemed to see so differently was that he could actually see the barer of the eyes. The blinding, putrid fog was no longer present and the walls of maze could clearly be seen of their moss covered, dampen stone.

I especially like the idea of so many people willing to give away so much… many would mostly likely do whatever you desire… and you’d be liar to say that there wasn’t some thrill of that for you.

Harry thought quickly to the cheering and attention people gave to him, the mail and packages and how quick they were to do things for him.

I don’t see why you have such a problem with it… they’re not being forced to do anything… unlike the Dursleys did with you… they made you perform all the remedial tasks of the household.

“How would you know what they did,” inquired Harry?

I said before that I know everything you do and more… so yes… I know of those times you had to stay in while other children were outside… I know how your teachers disregarded you based on your aunt and uncle’s unique explanations… I know how the other children shunned you because of that porker cousin… I know how you questioned your existence through all that.

It finished by going into a quiet laugh and Harry clenched his fists, feeling a sparking tingle in his body.

“Who the hell are you,” snapped Harry his voice low?

There was silence for a moment as if both were studying the other.

Even if I were to clarify your ignorance… most likely you wouldn’t believe it…

Harry took another step forward and responded nastily with, “You’re the one hiding. Why should I believe anything?”

Hiding… me… I think not… you can’t see me because you don’t want to… and I think I have proven what I say to be true…

“When,” snapped Harry?

Remember Krum… I said he’d have another go at the mud blood… I suggested calling the snitch… I said you’d wake up alone… and I know a few other things as well…

Its words seemed to fill with satisfied contempt from its shrill banshee like voice.

“Like what,” inquired Harry?

He had taken a few more steps forward. Now he could see a distinct form to the thing. It was about his height and guessing from the appearance, was also a boy as well. It looked to be dressed in wizard robes and one hand bore a wand protruding from crossed arms.

Careful how close you get… you may not like what you see.

Harry stopped in his tracks, frozen in place. That had been his plan, to finally know the answer of its identity but the question was, did his actions reveal that strategy or was there something else?

It chuckled again but only shortly as it spoke again.

I know some of those dreams regarding your relatives… believe me when I say we could do worse to them than any death eater was ever feared for doing… how about a reminder of those dreams?

Harry heard something swoosh and the scene changed.

For a moment, he was in a cramp dark place, until the squeaking of hinges sounded and a door opened in front of him. The dim light revealed the narrow hallway of the Dursleys’ home that led to his cupboard. It was like before when he relived Hermione’s nightmare with Krum, only he recognized this scene playing itself before as he stepped quietly from the cupboard.

Harry watched as the hallway came into full view and the scene changed with a turn towards the kitchen door. In an almost instant blur, Harry found him-self in the kitchen, having not seen the motion of walking towards or entering it. Harry’s eyes perused the counter top of the kitchen, spotting something in a very dim corner. Another instant movement and Harry felt something his hand gripped followed by a slow scrapping noise. He didn’t see what his hand held but the feel of the grip and the scraping sound that had came to his ears gave it away.

Soon he was leaving the kitchen and slowly ascending the stairs. The floorboards of the next level groaned lowly as he walked from the stairs, through the hallway and towards a certain door at the end. Standing in front of it a moment later, Harry felt his free hand touch the door handle and turn it, hearing it squeak slowly open.

A dim room came into view, light from the streets and moon illuminating the room enough to see his sleeping aunt and uncle. Harry watched as he approached them slowly, his breathing slow and deep. No other sound came from the room aside from his uncle’s snoring and his aunt bristled breath. Even in slumber, they were obnoxious and loud but Harry felt an urge to end that.

A bright glare reached his view as a slender and thin sharp metal object came into view, glinting light from the window into Harry’s face.

From the kitchen he had drawn the sharpest of them all… one that could cut into bone of cook animal flesh… a slender… thin… but long…sharp… black handled… knife.

In that moment, everything changed as the room went dark and cold again. Damp walls of moss-covered stone replaced the scene and the crunch of gravel came to his ears.

A laugh caused Harry to turn and find himself in the maze again, facing that which had haunted him-self since the summer.

When did that dream play out… about seven years ago… and it’s only one among many like it… isn’t it?

Slowly spoke the figure ahead of him, breathing heavily.

Harry felt nausea take hold of him, the switching between this nightmare and the other had taken a toll on him, making his breath heavy. Harry noticed then that the other too was breathing heavily and didn’t seem as exuberant as prior. It was then Harry understood it, whatever happens to him seemed to have an effect on this other. The results between them were apparently the same as Harry felt weakened and so the other creature sounded the same.

“What’s… wrong,” spoke Harry with difficulty,” With… you?’

An effort driven, quick laugh came and the vocal response that followed sounded the same as Harry’s speech.

Figure… it… out… your-self…

Silence, aside from labored breathing, came between them and time passed as they both recuperated.

Well that was intensive… a perfect example of something we’ve both wanted for some time… a little thank you act to the Dursleys’ for their… hospitality… per say.

Spoke the creature, sneering, having regained its composer.

“It was only a dream,” snapped Harry feeling better as well.

Maybe… but its one we can make true… think about it… who would blame us… who would stop us… or rather who could?

Harry couldn’t deny a small feeling within him-self that agreed with it. To do something to the Dursleys was a thought he had many times before. However that was too far but it may have been true… that no one would or could stop him.

How about another example… I think even you won’t argue against this one too much.

The same swooshing sound and flash followed, forcing Harry’s eyes to close.

When Harry opened his eyes, he was in the potions class at Hogwarts. The scene was very familiar as there was a single large cauldron brewing a purple concoction and Hermione stood at the front of the class where Snape’s desk should have been.

It was a recreation of the same incident when Cho held Hermione captive.

She had used a cleansing potion on Hermione’s clothes, causing them to dissolve away. Then she had tried to subdue Harry through the aggressive effects of vampire infusion while Ron was detained by the brewing potion.

In this recreation, however, there were differences. Cho and Ron were not present and the cauldron sat idly by with no potion within its containment.

Harry wasn’t feeling any urges like before and Hermione didn’t seem upset.

In fact she was the greatest difference of all as she wasn’t chained to the wall this time.

Instead she stepped away from the front of the class and approached Harry slowly. Something in the way she walked indicated another state of mind but he didn’t know what and couldn’t help at being intrigued by it.

As she drew closer, Harry discovered that her clothes were still dissolving as before but she didn’t seem bothered by it.

Soon Hermione stood before Harry, her clothes barely existent. Before he could say anything, Hermione’s arms wrapped around him and he felt her body press hard against his own. Harry’s hands came to rest on her skin and the sensations that filled him caused Harry’s body to jerk harshly.

Following the motion, Harry sat up suddenly and looked around to find himself in the room provided by the Weasleys at the Burrow.

Harry placed his hand against his forehead.

“Was all that a dream,” whispered Harry to him-self questioning his thoughts, “Had to be… it didn’t happen like that… Hermione was terrified but then she was… okay with it?”

Of everything he had experience, that moment with Hermione stayed strongest in his mind. The way she walked toward him even though her clothes were disintegrating further. Just remembering that short moment caused his heartbeat to quicken and body to heat. Harry looked at his hands and could still feel a tingling on his skin from touching her. Harry quickly realized that though it was only a dream, he had enjoyed it and wouldn’t mind having that again.

When the excitement passed and reality cleared his mind, Harry felt that his throat was dry and he had been sweating. So he decided to replenish his water loss.

After getting up and putting on his robe, Harry headed quietly out of his room and down the stairs. Harry walked into the kitchen, quietly found a glass and filled it with water. He drank it slowly, surveying the snow covered woods of the Burrow. Harry sat the glass down, having finished the water and looked towards the sink. He almost reached for the scrub brush when a voice from behind stopped him.

“Just leave it for the morning,” said a woman from behind, “We’ll get it with the morning dishes.”

Harry turned suddenly to see Mrs. Weasley standing at the entry way.

Harry stood still, solid as a statue from the un-expected company.

Mrs. Weasley, meanwhile, walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the table.

She smiled at Harry and added, “Unlike Petunia, I don’t mind if a dirty dish or glass is left alone for a while.”

Harry hesitantly set the glass in the sink and looked to Mrs. Weasley. She waved her wand and the chair in front of her slid quietly out which Harry quickly sat in.

At first nothing was said between the two of them as she made motions with her wand again and a series of actions occurred. The stove turned on and the tea kettle came to a quick boil. Two tea cups, along with spoons, came to set on the table, one in front of Harry and the other in front of Mrs. Weasley. The refrigerator opened and beaker of cream floated out and a jar of sugar followed from a nearby cabinet. The boiling tea kettle then came to rest on the table after floating from the stove. Mrs. Weasley picked it up and poured Harry and her-self a cup full.

Harry did nothing at the moment besides stir the tea in front of him. While Mrs. Weasley helped her-self to cream and sugar, taking sips to test its taste.

“Nothing like a spot of tea to help one relax,” stated Mrs. Weasley, breaking the silence,” I always find it can soothe a person from a restless sleep… or even nightmares.”

Harry shifted a bit and Mrs. Weasley eyed him from her side of the table.

“First off,” continued Mrs. Weasley, a gentle tone, “I’d like to thank you for helping Ron… I always knew he didn’t feel like he quite belonged… not to what extremes though… but he’d never tell me or anyone else… I guess you have a knack for drawing out what’s bothering people… much like Lilly.”

Harry stopped stirring his tea pointlessly and stared straight at Mrs. Weasley.

She in turn just smiled while having another sip of her tea before speaking again.

“Wasn’t the only thing she could do,” quietly spoke Mrs. Weasley, “She was quite good at getting your father to admit to anything… that boy could lie straight face to McGonagall without so such much as a blink or twitch… but face your mother and he broke like an old tea bag.”

Harry smiled slightly but he didn’t break his visual state as he asked, “You knew my mother?”

Mrs. Weasley gave Harry a look and answered, “They’re weren’t many who didn’t… at least at Hogwarts... but I had my share of adventures with her as well… it was with her I learned that Daken was half vampire but that was because of an incident that happen at Hogwarts years ago.”

Harry contemplated for a moment before asking, “Do you mean that love potion from Loralie?’

Mrs. Weasley seemed a little surprised at Harry but she took another sip from her cup, refilled it from the kettle and replied, “Yes… I wonder who told you about that… but I can guess… you know I never knew that the stag that came to our rescue was your father… not until I saw Sirius Black change from that dog… there were rumors but Lilly never said if any of it was true…I suppose the legality of it all would have caused great trouble… what with three boys able to transform and not having told the ministry.”

Harry looked away from her and starred at his teacup, he hadn’t drunk any of it.

“What is Harry,” inquired Mrs. Weasley, before taking another sip from her tea cup?

Harry hesitated for a moment before he replied, asking “Why didn’t you tell me before… that you knew my mother?”

Mrs. Weasley slowly set her cup back on the table and made a face suggesting that she was admitting to her-self of having done something not too enjoyable.

After a moment she answered with, “Eleven years… it’s a long time to go wondering what happened… that night I mean… your parents killed… you survived… some how defeating Voldemort as well.”

Mrs. Weasley crossed her hands on the table and looked away.

“Mind you it wasn’t easy… hearing they were both gone… and you just vanished… Dumbledore refused to tell anyone anything of your whereabouts… not to me… not even the ministry… even when threatened with losing his place at Hogwarts,” continued Mrs. Weasley, slowly, “Seven children… a bit of a spacey husband… I guess I buried those memories away and kept busy.”

A smile came to Mrs. Weasley’s face and Harry saw it as a drastic improvement to the distress that had been building prior.

“That was until I started receiving owls from Ron and the boys,” spoke Mrs. Weasley with a humored tone, “You and Ronald getting into trouble suddenly… just the fact that you and Ron were friends… in the same house… made me quite happy… almost as if it were meant to be from the first time you two met… I guess I just didn’t want to tell you because then I would have to remember the bad things as well… and you had enough of that to deal with.”

Mrs. Weasley fumbled with her tea cup as she drained the last of it in one final sip and set it hastily back down.

“Most of my family was already gone when I started at Hogwarts… Lily and I were close enough that I thought of her as family… and so I always thought that way of her,” finished Mrs. Weasley,” I want you in our lives… my life… because I want Lilly back… and if I can’t have her… then I want her son with my own… as one of my own… I want my entire family back… as much of it I can get.”

Silence came between them again and Harry finally started sipping at his own tea through it. When he finished it, he soon learned that Mrs. Weasley had something else to speak of.

“Children of magic or muggle families are discovered to be magically aware from the uncontrolled magic they do as children before starting magical training,” spoke Mrs. Weasley, her tone suddenly serious.

Harry peered curiously at her for the sudden change in attitude.

“You may have guessed already,” continued Mrs. Weasley, “But I over heard the conversation between you two… but Ron is wrong… he did display magical awareness… at a very young age… in fact it was the same night you did… fourteen years ago… I just used the memory charm to make him forget… so I never doubted him having magical ability.”

“What did he do,” asked Harry suddenly curious and surprised to such a strange secret?

“I can’t tell you,” replied Mrs. Weasley and added before Harry could be disappointed, “Because I promised myself to tell Ron first… but I’ll say this… his father isn’t bald because of age… Ron caused it and the hair never grew back.”

Something from Mrs. Weasley tone told Harry that she wouldn’t say anything more about it and it was then that Harry noticed the light in the room getting brighter. He turned, looking out the window and saw the sun peeking over the horizon.

“Have we been up all that time,” commented Mrs. Weasley cheerily, “I suppose I’ll get breakfast started… why don’t you go have a lie in?”

Harry stood up and turned to put the tea cup in the sink, reaching for a scrub brush in the process. A quick smile from Mrs. Weasley stopped him and all he did was place it in the sink. With that done, he left the kitchen and returned quietly to his room. Sleep didn’t come to him as the early morning conversation played over in his mind, including what Ron had said in the late evening.

His mother, family to Mrs. Weasley and Ron had said Harry was more of a brother to him than anyone. He found it strange at how comforting it was to feel so wanted suddenly, even if some mystery and secrecy had played a hand in it all as well. After all his whole life had seemed to become a mystery laced with secrets. Harry crawled over the bed to his trunk and withdrew his journal, spending the rest of the early morning writing in it.

An unknown while later, there came a knock on the door and Harry looked up to see Ron step in.

“Breakfast,” announced Ron, yawning, “We better get down there before Fred and George pinch it all.”

Ron waited while Harry dressed before they went to breakfast. They enjoyed a large spread of pancakes, sausages, biscuits and a host of other things as well. When they finished with breakfast, Mrs. Weasley had something of an announcement to say.

“Now before anything… we’re going to have some guests here tonight for dinner and I want things to be in shape,” spoke up Mrs. Weasley, “Ron, I want you to go clean your room…. Ginny, you do the same… Charlie, you’ll help with the dishes… and Harry, why don’t you go outside for a bit of fresh morning air?”

Ron and Ginny began to walk away from the kitchen without question.

“I could help,” stated Harry.

Ron turned and replied, “It’ll only be a jiff.”

With that Ron hurried off and Harry went to gather his cloak. Harry stepped outside into the brisk and chilly air. Even though it was cold out, Harry did enjoy being outside. He walked a short distance from the house, around the garden for a few minutes before spotting an old shed. It was the place where Ron’s father kept his muggle items to tinker with. Thinking about it, Harry realized he had never been in there and decided to have a look.

Opening the rusty-hinged door and closing it from behind, Harry walked into the shed and looked around. Television sets, telephones, stoves, dishwashers, toasters, hair dryers and a seemingly limitless supply of other muggle things littered the shed.

There was one item that caught his attention though. Hanging near the back, swing slightly was the swing bench he had come to know upon arriving at the Burrow before the term started.

For reasons he didn’t know, Harry felt drawn to it and took a seat on the cold wood. He leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling very comfortable almost instantly. As soon as he closed his eyes, they needed to open them as Harry heard his name shouted.

“Harry,” shouted a voice nearby, “Harry?”

Harry opened his eyes and turned his head to see Ron standing at the shed entrance, a frantic look on his face. A few moments and Harry discovered he was lying down. His body seemed stiff and Harry found him-self still in the swing bench he had sat upon only moments before.

“I found him, “shouted Ron a moment later, presumably to someone other than Harry, “He’s in here!”

Harry sat up as Mrs. Weasley came to the shed entrance, giving a sigh of relief to seeing Harry but looking slightly crossed.

Ron walked in towards Harry and asked hastily, “If you were still tired why not just go back to bed rather than give us a fright like that?”

Harry stared groggily at his friend and mumbled, “What are you going on about? I’ve only been out here a few minutes.”

Ron seemed almost insulted but more puzzled than anything as he responded, “A few minutes? We’ve been looking for you for almost an hour!”

Harry felt him-self becoming more alert, thing about Ron’s response.

“I guess I just got comfortable and felt asleep again, “answered Harry, “Sorry about that… I didn’t realize I was even becoming drowsy… seemed like one moment I was just sitting here and the next was all this.”

Ron gave an exasperated sigh and said, “We just got worried… you just didn’t seem to be anywhere all of a sudden… so never mind… we need to get going.”

Harry stood up and stretched while asking,” Going? Where are we going?”

Ron smirked and answered,” The village nearby… you’ve never been there… Charlie says the pub has got Butter beer now… and with all the Hogsmeade trips you’ve missed so far, I figured you’d like to explore a bit.”

“Ginny’s already gone to meet some friends, “added Ron, “And besides Mum wants us all out of the house anyways.”

So that’s what they did. Harry took a few more minutes to wake up and Ron waited patiently. They left Mrs. Weasley by the shed, bidding her a goodbye, neither noticing as she went into the shed herself.

It took about ten minutes to get there and the path was cleared of snow and ice. Once there Ron and Harry walked all over, using the morning time to see the different kinds of shops and homes there. Harry was surprised to find that not only were the shops of a magical variety but even muggle businesses existed. People from both worlds lived in the same village.

Ron informed Harry that it had taken a while and places like this were still few. Harry did agree it was something to see considering his limited exposure to this life.

Morning passed on and early afternoon took its place. It wasn’t long before their stomachs began to rumble and though Harry had thought they’d return to the Burrow, Ron had another idea. He directed Harry to small pub near where they had entered the village. A place called the Dungeon, which Harry didn’t find to be an appealing name.

Ron stood at the door while Harry remained in front of the few stairs. Ron realized Harry’s thoughts, seeing as he stared at the sign puzzled.

“It use to be an old jail house,” explained Ron,” But when it was turn into a pub they kept all the bars and stuff… so the named it the Dungeons… weird to you I guess but its always popular.”

Harry followed up the stairs into the pub with Ron, still questioning the validity of the name. Inside though, Harry quickly learned that Ron was right. Windows still had bars, even racks for muggle guns still held place on the walls. Manacles and other devices for restraint also held place on the walls. The bar itself was built in front of the captive cells and their supplies lied within.

Though Harry had a creepy reaction, the other people inside were quite enthusiastic. Children were running around, chasing each other. All kinds of people were at the tables or in groups talking and casually chatting. It was a mixture of muggles and magic alike in these groups.

Harry and Ron took a few steps forward before a lady with a heavy Irish accent stepped in front of them.

“Have a seat boys,” greeted the lady, “We be a bit busy at lunch but if be patient we‘ll have you set.”

Ron said okay and before they could move a step, the lady spoke again in sudden surprise.

“You got a scar on that head of yours,” spoke the lady quite loudly, “I’d be daft fool if you ain’t Harry Potter.”

Almost instantly every eye in the place turned to them and conversations all but became silent. Harry looked around and sure enough many stood around, some stood from their tables and children looked on in awe.

“Maybe we should go,” whispered Harry?

The lady gave him a quick look and then turned around.

“What you all looking at,” snapped the lady, “Don’t you know it be rude to be gawking like buzzards? Go mind yourselves.”

A moment later the returning sound of conversations began to take their place in the room, driving away the silence. Harry and Ron found an empty table near the side close to the door and furthest from any onlookers. A few minutes passed as Ron continued to mention interesting facts about the village and Harry listened, ignoring the occasional looks.

Without warning, two mugs of Butterbeer came to rest in front of them. Ron and Harry both looked to see the same Lady again.

“The name’s Ana short for Anabelle but I prefer Ana,” stated Ana, introducing herself at last, “So what can I get you two growing sprouts?”

Harry and Ron both asked for sandwiches but before Ana left she mentioned one other thing.

“Don’t worry about the Butterbeer,” added Ana, “Its already covered.”

She turned at left, disappearing into the crowd before either boy could inquire about what she meant.

Some time passed and the boys talked about various things. Ron was looking forward to hearing from Charlie more about the Ridgeback dragons. Harry mentioned to be glad to be away from all the trouble at Hogwarts and Ron agreed quickly.

“Excuse me,’ said a voice at their table.

Harry turned and looked to see a young girl, about their age standing there, blushing furiously and looked nervous enough to run.

“Hello,” replied Harry, trying to hide his puzzlement and his first thoughts to the girl.

“My… my name… is Michelle,” stuttered the girl, “Are… are you… the… Harry Potter.”

“Unless there’s another one we don’t know of,” responded Ron with a note of humor.

She smiled nervously and if possible, blushed the deepest shade of red her body could muster before stuttering out, “Can I... may I… see your… your scar?”

Without saying a word, Harry lifted his hand and held back the hair on his forehead. Ron was surprised that Harry didn’t give any resistance to her request then wondered about something that might be why. Ron gave the girl another look over and could see that even though at a young age like them-selves, she had quite a defined shaped along with a lovely color of auburn shoulder length hair. The fact that her dress hugged her form a bit tightly only added to the attractiveness she presented. Ron couldn’t help but wonder if Harry was charmed by her appearance enough to grant her request. As quick as thought came, an idea came to his mind, reinforced by Harry’s next actions.

After thanking Harry for a glance at his scar, Michelle bid them a good after noon and made to leave. As she walked away, Ron could see that Harry’s eyes followed her movements and for a moment, observed the departing girl from behind.

“She’s pretty,” spoke up Ron, taking a drink from his goblet, “You wouldn’t think that she may be the same age as us?”

Harry gave his friend an inquiring look.

“I think she took a fancy to you,” continued Ron, a smirk appearing on his face, “Who knows… it could be worth a go.”

“What are you talking about,” asked Harry, his face beginning to redden?

Ron’s smirk didn’t diminish, rather it widened, as he answered, “Michelle?”

“Michelle,” repeated Harry raising his brow to Ron?

“Yes… Michelle,” replied Ron, “You know the one you just watched leave quite intently… that shapely girl… kind of like Hermione for example.”

Harry’s eyes did a dance as thoughts crossed his silent posture as he asked slowly, “What are you getting at?”

Ron lowered his voice, smirked and said with a playful tone of sarcasm, “I saw you looking.”

Harry looked away, a mixed expression of embarrassment and worry followed.

“I couldn’t,” stammered Harry, not finishing, “It just seemed… almost natural… I guess it was kind of rude… may I should.”

“You know,” interrupted Ron, looking at his mug of Butterbeer as if he hadn’t heard Harry, “I use to hear Charlie and Bill talk… even Fred and George… and for the longest time I never understood what they were saying… but I’m beginning to.”

At the last statement, Ron leaned to one side a bit and glanced behind Harry. Harry just fidgeted with his mug, staring at it with his brow furrowed.

“Besides,” added Ron motioning his head, “Take a look at that lot in the corner by the bar.”

Harry moved his eyes to the direction Ron motioned towards and saw three more girls about their age sitting there. They were whispering and giggling quietly with each on subject known only to them-selves. With his eyes averted in their direction, Harry watched as they took turns glancing in his direction and then whispering to each other even more animatedly.

“They’ve been doing that since we came in,” explained Ron, “Watching you that is… giggling and whispering madly in the process.”

Harry looked back at his friend and found Ron staring at him with a strange expression.

“I was just as surprise as you are when I started doing that,” stated Ron, strangely serious, “But I had my brothers past talk make it easier… you didn’t”

Harry didn’t respond but continued to stare back. Ron gulped the last of his sandwich and in one swig finished his butter beer.

“The point is Harry… they do the same… girls that is… muggle or magical,” continued Ron, “Its nothing to be worried about or think that it’s wrong… its just a game kids our age play… until things go further.”

“Is that how you met Rela,” asked Harry?

Ron smiled before answering, “Kind of… except it also involved her almost getting seriously hurt… kind of an ice breaker there.”

Harry wondered what had happened but Ana broke in first.

“All done boys,” she asked?

They answered her and she grabbed their dishes, turning away.

“What do we owe you,” asked Ron reaching into his pocket?

Ana turned back answered, “Nothing… some admirers in the corner there asked for your bill.”

Harry and Ron looked to each other as Ana walked away. Ron stood as did Harry, who rather than follow Ron to the door, went to the girls’ table in the corner.

“Hello,” announced Harry.

All three girls’ sat frozen in place and greeted them as well trying as hard as possible to hold back his surprise to Harry’ actions. They each in turn, greeted them back, though slightly haphazardly, obviously unprepared for the encounter.

“My name is Harry Potter,” continued Harry, “I wanted to say thank you for accepting our bill, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

They each denied any trouble from it, blushing strongly as they responded.

“Can we see your scar,” bluntly stated the girl to the left, though she went even redder at asking

Harry, as before, held back the hair on his forehead and let them have a good look at it. Each girl asked a few quick questions, the kind Ron was glad to not be embarrassing although from the look of them they were embarrassed enough already. After a few minutes, they bid good afternoon to the girls and left the pub to the light snowfall beginning outside.

The door to the Burrow opened and Ron stepped in followed by Harry

Harry picked up a brush from a pale next to the door and proceeded remove the collected snow. As he did Ginny walked in from the kitchen with a mischievous look to her expression.

“Oh Ron,” spoke Ginny with an air of insinuation, “A strange person made a claim earlier that you invited them... any thoughts?”

“Who was it,” asked Ron eagerly?

Ginny put her index finger to her mouth as if trying to concentrate but clearly faking the attempt.

“I’m not sure,” answered Ginny in the same manner,” But such a nice and pretty… girl… how could I disbelieve her?”

Harry watched as Ron tore off his cloak then suddenly began fussing with his clothes, straightening them and trying almost desperately to remove any remaining snow. Satisfied with his appearance, Ron made to move towards the kitchen until Ginny corrected him.

“She’s in my room… alone,” spoke Ginny, her tone even more insinuating,” Settling in.”

“Be back in a minute Harry,” hastily spoke Ron, rushing off.

Harry gave a puzzled look to Ginny and she answered his thought with, “Rela.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he shrugged and continued on with removing the snow from his cloak.

“You should go change,” suggested Ginny,” We’ll be having company soon and believe me you’ll want to look nice.”

Without a word, Harry turned and headed up the stairs him-self, stopping briefly by Ginny’s room, having a thought to go in but deciding it a better idea not to interrupt.

He went into his room and walked to the dresser when a terrible thought crossed his mind.

- Nice clothes, - thought Harry, - I don’t have anything except leftovers from that porky bastard of a cousin. -

As quick as the came, Harry noticed that some of the items in his room made an odd wiggle as if something brushed by them. There was a cracking sound that followed and Harry looked to see his window cracked along the entire pane as if something had pushed at it.

Ignoring the strange happenings, he opened the drawer to the dresser and pulled out the only slacks he had. To his surprise they were very different than he had expected. The rolled up edges were gone and replaced with neat crisp hemmed ends. The hole in the left side front was gone and the pinned large waistline was shrunken to what looked like his size. Even the faded color of the beige slacks was restored. Harry looked through the rest of the clothes and found similar results for all them. Any damage was gone and any color fade was restored. Anything oversized because of Dudley’s gross build was shrunken to fit him instead. He was confused to how this had happened and questioned it until he saw the socks. They were all completely mismatched and Harry only knew of one being that did that.

“Than k you Dobby,” whispered Harry.

Dumbledore’s words replayed in his mind.

I think you’ll find that Dobby has taken care of that.

Dobby packed and brought his trunk from Hogwarts to the Burrow plus decided to fix it all the clothes. Harry made a promise to him-self to get as many strange socks as he could for Dobby.

After a short while of changing and finally deciding on what must look nice, being that the beige slacks and red sweater, he heard some excited voices outside. Harry left his room to the landing outside to see what the commotion was.

He stood at the landing’s edge, overlooking the living room below from his new room. The Weasleys were granting some visitors, one to be Daken and another two Harry recognized but was not entirely sure as to why. They were Muggles without a doubt, since both were dressed in the style of slacks and polo shirts but neither presented a wand. He watched the man present a wine bottle and the woman hold up a covered dish of some sort. Harry was sure he knew these people but still couldn’t seem to remember how. Fortunately he didn’t have to wait long for the answer as it presented itself to him.

“Harry,” spoke a familiar girl’s voice nearby?

Harry turned suddenly to see a lovely young girl a few feet from him. Looking the girl over, her legs bore white stockings up to a dark blue skirt that was shorter than he was use to seeing. A neatly pressed emerald green blouse that, without witch’s robes, revealed more her form and for that second, he couldn’t take his eyes off the bushy brown haired girl. Harry realized quickly he was staring and averted his gaze, slightly turning his head, feeling his face begin to heat.

“Hello Hermione,” replied Harry.

Following a swish of air with a quick giggle, a groaning of wood, some crinkling of fabric and Hermione came to stand barely inches away from Harry.

“I don’t think you know happy I was,” quietly spoke Hermione, so much closer now, “To receive an owl from Ron saying that the Weasleys were bringing you here.”

Hermione’s voice so near, her warm breath wafting by is cheek and the dim scent of a flowered fragrance tickling his sense of smell caused Harry to turn his complete attention to Hermione. Doing this brought about a reaction Harry hadn’t felt in a while. He found him-self staring into a pair of chocolate brown eyes filled with emotion and strength but also a desire.

Suddenly there didn’t seem to be a Burrow or a landing or even the world. The voices of the greeting chatter below became distant and memory of others presently nearby faded. The world didn’t seem to be there nor matter, as Harry felt him-self spellbound by the beauty before him. So drawn was Harry that he moved closer, following a growing need within. He could feel her presence only a breath away and heard a slight gasp. Harry could feel the heat and could almost taste a mint flavor to Hermione’s breath, stirring his senses and encouraging further action.

A hand slapped onto Harry’s shoulder and reality cut in as sharp as Krum blade into his gullet, breaking the wondrous moment, halting all the sensations like water snuffing out a warm embracing fire.

“Hey you two,” laughed a voice from behind Harry, “Get a room.”

It seemed instant and may have been as Harry spun around, gripping the arm of the hand, twisting it violently. Sounds of stressed pain and cracking break reach Harry’s ears. Reality further took hold as Harry’s mind focused and he found Charlie knelt to the floor of the landing. He was holding his shoulder as the other arm remained in Harry’s grip, unnaturally and painfully twisted. Harry kept his grip and continued to tighten the twist of Charlie’s arm.

“Harry stop,” gently ordered a girl’s voice from behind, “Let him go… please.”

Hermione couldn’t believe the site after the shock of that strange but deeply wanted moment abruptly ended.

Harry released his grip and Charlie breathed deeply as the pain dimmed. Hermione rushed by Harry and helped Charlie stand up.

“Hermione,” stated Charlie, before she could do anything more, “Don’t worry about the arm, its normal when one works with dragons… go back to the others in the kitchen… I think I need to have a chat with Harry for a minute.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” snapped Hermione, “Not after that.”

Charlie was still in pain but he was doing well to manage it. His time with dragons was extremely helpful for the situation, as his arm seem to hang loosely, most likely broken in multiple places. But even so, he still managed to give Hermione a smile.

“Look this is going to require some attention, which will take some time… so someone is going to have to let mother know,” explained Charlie, “And it wouldn’t be to pleasant if I walked in like this… and like I said I need to speak with Harry.”

Hermione sighed deeply, clearly unhappy, but agreeing to the logic. She turned and found Harry with a scary looking scowl on his face. He didn’t look at her as she walked by or say anything.

After Hermione descended the stairs and was out of sight, Charlie spoke, “Look I was just having a laugh.”

Harry didn’t respond verbally but his scowling stare altered to glaring eyes. Charlie just watched Harry before a thought came to mind.

“Harry… I didn’t interrupt… that wasn’t almost,” inquired Charlie hesitantly, suddenly realizing something,” Harry… that wasn’t almost your first kiss with Hermione was it?”

A low growl seemed to resonate from Harry and Charlie realized the answer to his question.

“Harry… I’m sorry, I didn’t,” began Charlie, apologetically before Harry cut in.

Shadows seemed to embrace Harry’s form as he spoke.

“Do that again,” snapped Harry viciously, “And there’ll be one less dragon caretaker in the world.”

Harry turned on his heel and descended the stairs, heading for the kitchen. Charlie leaned against the wall, pain throbbing in his arm. His mother had warned him that Harry was having trouble but that was more than he had expected. Charlie knew that his experience with Harry was very limited compared to Ron but he never had the opinion of Harry being so dangerous.

A door a few feet away opened a little bit and Charlie could see Rela stare at him, an obvious look of worry in her eyes before she closed the door.

“And mum just warned me earlier,” grunted Charlie, turning heading towards another room, holding his arm in place, “Not to do anything surprising around Harry.”

A minute later, Harry soon learned that the Weasleys had invited the Grangers and Daken to a holiday dinner with them, realizing that the two muggles were Hermione’s parents Lionel and Jean.

Late afternoon passed with conversation and evening followed with a large dinner. Harry answered questions from Hermione parents and I turn did Mr. Weasley, considering his infatuations with muggles. Finally though, late evening came and Molly insisted that everyone leave the kitchen but did not argue as jean wished to stay behind. She half had expected Jean to want to ask something of her and had a guess as to what.

“Molly,” spoke Mrs. Granger, looking out of the kitchen,” Can I ask you something… about that boy… Harry?”

Molly Weasley stood by the sink, a cup of tea in her hands and looked in the direction of Mrs. Granger’s gaze. She was looking into the living room from the kitchen, specifically at her daughter sitting next Harry Potter. Molly had a thought to what may be asked but responded anyways.

“Of course Jean,” answered Molly, “What about him?”

“Mind you I mean no insult to him but,” spoke Jean, hesitantly, “I’ve heard Hermione describe him… and things about his life… what I mean is… that there is no doubt he’s handsome… probably considered rather dishy to many young girls at that school… but if he’s as popular as Hermione says then… I worry that.”

Molly interrupted her with,” The answer is no Jean… yes Harry’s popular and yes, he’s definitely has his father’s charming looks… but no, he’s not the playboy type… he may notice the other girls but his eyes are only for your daughter.”

Jean stood quiet for a moment, still watching her daughter and the others around her. Watching as Hermione laughed and smiled or even as she would glance at that black haired boy.

“Lionel and I were really uneasy about allowing Hermione to go to that school,” quietly stated Jean, “We almost didn’t but she wanted to go so badly.”

Molly glanced at Jean, puzzled by her statement.

“It’s not always easy for parents with a magical child to adapt to the differences right away,” replied Molly encouragingly,” You’re not the only ones who run into that.”

Jean took a deep breath and slowly released it as a smile grew on her face.

“That wasn’t the problem… we always knew Hermione had something special… didn’t know it was magic at the time,” quietly spoke Jean,” But what we were really worried about was how everyone would treat her.”

“How everyone would treat her,” inquire Molly,” Did you think she wouldn’t be welcomed?”

“I just worried she be treated the same by the other children,” answered Jean, “As she was in primary school.”

Jean paused for a moment and continued before Molly could inquire further.

“Hermione wasn’t… popular… with the other children,” explained Jean, “Even as a baby, Hermione was always wanting to learn something and school was quite a strong interest her… and that’s not something a lot of children that age share with the same level of enthusiasm… she ended up being lonely most of the time… I don’t remember her ever being invited to anything by other children… not sleepovers… not get-togethers… not anything of a social nature.”

Jean stopped and looked at her daughter again.

Molly had a question she wanted to ask but decided to wait, as Jean didn’t look finished.

“Then we got a letter that first year,” continued Jean, “A troll had cornered her in the lavatory and made to kill her… except that boy showed up and charged the beast… a boy and his friend who had insulted her earlier now came to her aid…it wasn’t easy to accept… until a letter from the Headmaster said that they were being watched to prevent further danger… but after that we received letter after letter about the things they were doing together.”

“She does seem quite happy with them… having friends now,” stated Molly, “I know Ron is very happy with Harry and Hermione… and even more so now with Rela.”

“That’s what I thought it was too,” replied Jean, still watching her daughter.

Molly became puzzled by Jean’s response and asked, “You thought it was?”

“After that first year during the summer… she wouldn’t stop talking about him,” answered Jean, “Each year it became more… each year the look in her eyes became stronger and I k new what it was even though she didn’t… until now.”

“Harry does make quite an impression… just like his father,” added Molly humorously.

Jean made a sound of disapproval and replied, “Regardless of what I told Hermione I still don’t approve of him.”

Molly stared in surprise at the woman but before she could ask why, Jean spoke again.

“That may be a bit harsh but after everything Hermione has told us,” explained Jean, “There are people who want him dead… his parents were murdered… and I understand he was raised by some very unpleasant people… so why doesn’t he seem bitter at all… maybe its just that she’s my daughter and a boy may be taking her from me… but something just tells me he’s not what he seems… even us muggles can’t go through something like that… and not have something… of a dark side.”

Molly didn’t like Jean’s words but glancing at Harry and remembering his behavior for all these years she had to agree with Jean. No one goes through such ordeals without something that remains lurking within. Remembering the letters from the school and her children’s posts regarding the events from the start of the term only further proved Jean’s worries.

“You’re right,” replied Molly, her voice tainted with a bit of a sullen tone, “Harry has not gone through all that unscathed and it has shown… however Hermione and Ron have helped him through more of it than they realize.”

“At least she’s happy,” whispered Jean, “Not so lonely anymore.”

“It looks to be that way for both of our children,” replied Mrs. Weasley, “I just hope Harry realizes it too… that at last all three of them… are Lonely No More.”

Next Chapter

Storm of Torment

24. Storm of Torment

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I ran into two major/minor snags on this chapter. One was writer’s block trying to link certain key points. Let me warn you now that I’m not satisfied with this chapter because the flow never seemed right. It’s also almost twice as long as any of the others. The reason for this was that certain points didn’t work in right until this chapter. The second is, as some of you already know, I work for the college that I attend as a computer technician. So much of the summer is used to overhaul servers, office computer replacement and the like. This summer has been the worst because layoffs and cut backs have made our working times quite strenuous. I still have every intention of finishing this story, you can be sure of that as taxes.

I’ve have been asked about my character Daken as an original character. Daken is from a story I wrote in my middle school time about a vampire that when human had watched his family slaughtered and his attackers turned him into one. He wanders the earth for years in search of those who committed those atrocities, seeking to destroy them. Spending years resenting what humanity takes for granted and indulging in the sweet vengeance. However the Daken in this story is seriously toned-down as originally he is homicidally insane. That is until he finds that his own heart is not as frozen as thought when meeting another on a quest for vengeance.

Returning back to the story at hand let me also add that I’m under the impression from the ending of the fourth book that Harry only told Sirius and Dumbledore the events of the maze and cemetery. I may be wrong, as the fifth book appeared to have indicated to me. I just ask that my perception please be kept in mind in reading this chapter and for future chapters. Since that is what I thought upon starting this story.

Some memory pieces mentioned in the end are made up from guessing from material in the books and not actually stated.

This chapter has not undergone a FULL beta read for corrections but I wanted so badly to post it, so I hope its okay. This chapter is like 90 pages on my MS Word so if you want to read the whole thing, you might want a soda and snack.

By the way I only have one active Beta reader and if anyone else wants to be one give me a holler at itmonster@hotmail.com.

Revised 1/22/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 24

Storm of Torment

The evening passed on quite wonderfully before, during and after dinner, each part was as memorable as the next. The Grangers had seemed quite interested in Harry a fact noted by their daughter. Equally intrigue had been Mr. Weasley with Hermione’s father, Lionel, with talk of tools used in dentistry. The Weasley twins were quick to show off many of their pranks and in the presence of guests; Mrs. Weasley made no attempt to stifle any of it. Ron seemed happy enough as Harry conversed with the Grangers a majority of the time. Ginny kept going into giggled whispers with Rela when Ron wasn’t quick enough to head his sister off. Charlie had come a little late, claiming a snag with work that held his attention but Molly knew better from Hermione and Harry made no inclination to this excuse or notice of arrival.

Over the course of the evening, the groupings changed fairly enough. Sometimes, some of the younger generations spoke with the adults or they separated. As when Mrs. Weasley had been in the kitchen with Jean and the Daken, Lionel, Charlie and Mr. Weasley had been on the other side of the living room in their own conversation. The Hogwarts generation remained near the fireplace in their conversation.

At the fireplace, Harry and Hermione sat across from Ron and Rela, while Ginny was cross legged on a cushion on the floor dangling a piece of yarn for Crookshanks, who happily played. The twins were showing more of their pranks to Charlie, who in turn welcomed being their victim in many presentations. At one point all of the adults stood nearby chatting on their subjects while Ron’s retelling of an accident in Charms held the attention of his friends.

“So… so then… then the top of Dean’s head is on fire and… and he… he just looks at Seamus,” finished Ron, trying to keep from laughing too much, “And says… is it a little hot in here?”

All of them broke into laughter into heavy laughter. After a few moments, each was able to breathe normally with some heaviness. They barely noticed the wine bottle from the Grangers had been brought out and Mr. Weasley was struggling to use the corkscrew accompanying it.

Ron turned and called out to his father, with slightly gasping breaths, “Let me… have a go… at that.”

A questioned look from Molly followed as her husband complied and Daken watched with earnest. Ron took the bottle and corkscrew from his father, gave the metal device a curious look and handed it back. Daken remained watching, his expression unchanged if not added with more curiosity. Before Arthur could say a word for its purpose, Ron gripped the cork and popped it with no effort. The resounding gush of air from the pressure was followed with a few surprised intakes from others around him.

Ron’s father took the bottle back without word but stared a moment at his youngest son. Molly looked paled and a little unnerved but said nothing. The Grangers were greatly amused and quickly commented appraisingly to Ron’s physical skill. Of the Hogwarts’ group, only Ginny seemed surprised while Harry and Rela gave no indication to strangeness of it but Hermione looked rather suspicious.

“Ron… how are you doing that,” inquired Hermione, her tone strong with insistence?

“Loads of sweets,” joked Ron, “Gives lots of energy for a growing body.”

Harry chuckled to the remark, given Ron’s love of sweets but Hermione was not so swayed.

“It’s almost like… like,” continued Hermione, thoughtfully but almost accusingly, “Like you’ve become a Titan... or something?”

“A what,” responded Harry?

“Titans… creatures like giants,” answered Hermione quickly,” Talked about in myths… creatures that held the world… because they possessed great strength.”

As soon as Hermione had answered, Rela left off a huge gasp as her eyes widen. They all looked at her in mild and questioned surprise but she seemed to take no notice.

“That’s it,” mumbled Rela to her-self,” I never tried that language!”

With that she took off in a brisk haste to the stairs towards Ginny’s room, which left Ron to become the recipient of the curious stares.

“Rela loves a mystery,” shrugged Ron talking somewhat offhandedly but a note of nervousness as well, “Kind of like Hermione in a way… always researching for answers…but not research as much… her big thing is languages… thinking about it as a career she said.”

“What is she trying to figure out,” asked Ginny still playing with Crookshanks?

“Just some things,” answered Ron, his ears shading red, pausing slightly, “She’s researched most of the talismans already… all but two anyway.”

Harry watched Hermione’s face turn white and guessed her thoughts from the shocked expression that followed.

“Well that’s good… considering… we’ve… we’ve been… distracted,” spoke Harry hesitantly, as Hermione’s eyes widen along with her face’s whitening appearance,” I even forgot about them… and I’m the one who played with the Orb.”

Hermione’s expression eased but still seemed a bit perturbed at forgetting about the stolen talismans as she replied with, “That’s true we have been. What ones didn’t she find out yet?”

“The Venarus Blade,” answered Ron, quite slowly, “And the Geraus ring.”

Rela joined them a minute later quite pleased as she said, “Just sent an owl to my father about a book I need.”

What followed next was surprisingly secretive as Rela gave Ron a look but shook his head slightly in response to an unsaid question. Hermione looked at the both of them, her eyes glaring knowing they were holding something back, somewhat furious to the hidden information. She didn’t get a chance to inquire as Mrs. Granger called to her daughter. Hermione slipped from them without a word and Harry him-self couldn’t help but question their sudden secretiveness. However, rather than inquire, his attention was drawn elsewhere.

Harry watched from the corner of his eye as Hermione and Jean spoke off to the side. Though not able to hear them, Harry watched as Hermione’s expression gained in apprehension and shaded red from words spoken of an apparently candid nature. After a few minutes, Hermione returned to the group, giving Harry a thin smile and saying nothing. Harry gave Jean a questioned glance receiving only a look of mild interest in return.

As the hour grew late and their exuberance was turning to exhaustion, Hermione’s parents felt it was time to return home and let the festivities come to an end.

Harry suddenly couldn’t help but feel a sudden dread that made his insides squirm and realized it was due to the thought that Hermione would be departing. Somehow having her so near had been something of a treat to Harry as her proximity gave reasons to look at her, giving his thoughts a chance to whirl freely. Now the prospect of not having Hermione there lowered his spirits. A twinge of guilt plagued, knowing that he still seem to rudely look her over. Ron’s words ringed true in his mind, it did seem natural, but Harry still wanted to say something about it to her.

The Granger and Weasley adults stood in a group exchanging last minute talks as they said goodbye. Harry had learned earlier both from Ginny’s comments to Ron and later during dinner that Rela would remain the night. Hermione, however, would not.

“Harry,” inquired Hermione as she slid on a muggle coat, “Are you sleeping okay?”

Harry held the strap of a bag while Hermione was putting a Muggle coat on.

“Sleeping okay,” questioned Harry?

“Are you still,” specified Hermione, “Having bad dreams?”

Harry’s eyes averted and slight expression of concern came as he answered darkly,” The better question would be when I don’t have nightmares?”

“Only nightmares,” replied Hermione quietly almost a whisper, fastening the last button on her coat?

Not hearing her, Harry handed Hermione the bag while adding, “Except for a few… interesting ones… here and there.”

Hermione looked quickly, hearing his words, to see Harry’s averted gaze shade a slight red and a look of surprise followed. As she stared, Harry’s eyes made to glance back and caught her gaze.

“I was planning to stay the night,” spoke Hermione, her face flushing, trying to prevent any awkwardness, “But mum says we need to have a talk.”

Harry was about to respond but Hermione cut him off.

“But I’ll be here later in the morning tomorrow,” added Hermione quickly.

Soon the Grangers were gathered by the fireplace and Harry learned of the departure plans as well as how they had arrived. Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out two small items that looked like knobs from cabinet doors.

“Port keys,” said Hermione brightly, holding one out.

She wasn’t the only one who noticed that Harry took a step back when the item was presented.

After a few taps with a wand, they watched as Hermione’s parents vanished from the living room leaving their daughter standing by. Hermione gave Harry a look, then moved forward quickly and kissed his cheek.

Before backing away, she whispered into Harry’s ear, “I hope you have a good dream tonight.”

Hermione turned while pulling back, her long hair brushing his skin, leaving a strong tingle in place and as the sound of taps reached Harry’s ears. Hermione vanished from the spot as the Port key activated, taking her home to waiting parents.

Harry stood in place, mesmerized, not paying attention to anything or anyone around him. Ron stood in the background, a smirk plastered to his face. Rela stood next to him saying nothing but watched with a smile. Fred and George had not noticed anything, having been laying another one of their pranks in place. Mr. Weasley had disappeared through the kitchen, so he too saw nothing. Charlie and his mother were among the only others to have witness the departing events.

“Charlie,” whispered Mrs. Weasley, showing little emotion to the previous scene, “I need you to do something.”

Charlie turned to look at his mother.

“Take this,” continued Mrs. Weasley, placing an object pulled from her apron pocket to Charlie’s hand,” And get me one of the planks… you know from where.”

Charlie looked at it and then back to his mother.

“I’ll just use my wand,” he replied in whispered tones, “It’ll be faster.”

“No,” snapped his mother, “Not one spark of magic better touch it… use that and get me one of the planks… tell no one… not your father… not your brothers… no one… do you understand?”

Charlie knew better than to argue with his mother, so with a quick nod, he turned and left through the kitchen to the outside.

Harry noticed none of this as the touch of Hermione’s lips, warm and soft, to his cheek left a strong impression. His mind was blank and wasn’t sure if breath still came. Before Harry could finally think, speak or do much of anything, he whirled around when the sound of something splashing came, followed with some quick cursing. Harry had turned to find Ron standing a few feet from Rela, almost completely covered in some kind of ink like substance. His immediate and undesired words drew little attention from his mother as Molly tried to scold a pair of twin boys laughing hysterically on the floor.

Harry couldn’t deny the humor of it and for a moment, Rela seemed worried until a smile from Ron caused her to start giggling. Quickly ushered by his mother, Ron headed up the stairs for clean up and a change while Rela remained with the twins, giggles turning to heavier laughter. Harry shook his head and went into the kitchen. Entering, he found dishes on the table ready to be cleaned and walked up to the sink, starting the hot water. The sink itself soon filled with soapy water and Harry began washing away. A few minutes later he was interrupted.

“You wouldn’t believe the threats mum has to give,” spoke a girl’s voice, surprising him enough to almost drop a plate, “In order to get any of the boys to wash dishes… magic or no magic.”

Harry turned to find Ginny standing beside him, picking up a towel and reaching for some rinsed utensils.

“Mum might have a stroke if she comes in here and sees you doing this,” added Ginny with a smile, “What with not being asked or anything.”

Harry looked down at his hands; sleeves rolled up and stared for a second.

“I… I guess I didn’t even think about it,” replied Harry quietly, “Aunt Petunia was loopy about every thing being clean… she always wanted the dishes done after meals… I guess… rather than having her yell about it…. it… it just became habit… I just walked in, saw them and… well here I am.”

Ginny continued to dry some of the dishes not saying a word in response but thinking to her-self.

Some minutes passed before she asked hesitantly, “Did they always make you do the dishes?”

Harry snorted dismissively before answering, “Not until I was able to hold her precious dinnerware without sending it to the floor.”

Ginny swallowed and asked, “How old was that?”

Harry seemed to freeze in place and Ginny tried to see his face without appearing to look with the corners of her eyes. A displeased expression came to his features, baring some hostility and a thought of self-reminder.

“I think I was about seven when it became… natural… for me to do it,” answered Harry quickly.

His tone showed clear resentment and Ginny decided against further pursuit of the subject but sought to change it.

“Hermione looked really nice tonight,” spoke Ginny plainly, “Green seems to suit her brown hair… but she’s really lucky… mum would never let me out of the house with a skirt that short.”

A breaking sound followed and Ginny turned, looking, unsurprised to see Harry with a flushed face and both hands holding half a plate.

“Must be frustrating,” added Ginny turning back to dry more dishes.

At this Harry stared at her and in turn she looked back, a smile coming to her face.

“To be a muggle born witch at Hogwarts… restrictions on dress and all… but with muggles those restrictions don’t exist as much,” again added Ginny, looking at him, her smile becoming quite mischievous, “What did you think I meant?”

Harry turned back to the dishes without comment and Ginny only continued to smile at her-self.

A quick but loud gasp drew their attentions behind them and looked to see Mrs. Weasley standing at the entrance. Ginny was so surprised by her mother that she didn’t pay attention to the knife in hand and cut her palm. Following a quick cry out, Harry grabbed the towel she held and placed it against the bleeding hand. The cut wasn’t serious but bad enough that blood seeped quickly through the cloth to where even Harry could feel it dampening the towel. In a moment, Mrs. Weasley had acquired a bottle from a cabinet and rushed to Ginny’s side. Mrs. Weasley poured some of the bottle contents of gooey liquid into her cupped hand. She pulled the towel away and slopped the gooey substance into Ginny’s hand. After a second, there wasn’t any blood and Ginny’s tense form relaxed.

“Is that the same stuff,” inquired Harry, “That was used on my hand… before?”

Mrs. Weasley just nodded in response and said, “It should be healed in a moment… why were you two doing dishes now?”

“I came in here and found Harry already having at them,” answered Ginny, “So I thought I’d help.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry who had stood up and proceeded to rinse the towel of the blood within it. He didn’t see as Ginny leaned in and whispered something to her mother. The following response to the whispered words was of Mrs. Weasley’s darkening expression looking from the dishes to Harry and back.

Harry stood at the sink, rinsing the towel, twisting it to ring out the water and blood then repeating. All the while becoming aware of a stinging sensation in the, now slightly, stained hands and traveling along his arms. Harry felt faint but instead of losing consciousness, gripping the sides of sink in the process, everything darkened and the room seemed to change. He heard the voices of Ginny and Mrs. Weasley but it all became strangely faint and distant. Harry closed his eyes as the light headed feelings began to overtake him.

Upon opening his eyes, Harry found him-self at Hogwarts suddenly, in shadowed area near a stair case which was recognized as a direction to Professor Binns’ class. The details of the location lost importance as a low growl reached his ears. Looking around he found that something lurked in the dark shadow of the stairway. A pair of dim but strange silver eyes gleamed within. At first, Harry thought of Daken but couldn’t be as this being was shorter; its eyes too dim compared to Daken’s. The next sound to follow was that of footsteps and someone speaking lightly to them-selves in a disgruntled manner.

“Like I’m supposed to remember the name of every ghoul in the thirteen hundred uprising,” snapped a girl’s voice, “There were only forty of them… I’m sure it’s easy for a ghost to remember… honestly… I’ve probably missed everything now.”

Harry watched as the girl came down the stairs, continuing the tirade and it wasn’t hard for Harry to recognize her, as red hair fluttered around the girl’s form. Harry watched as Ginny stepped from the stairs, oblivious to what lay in the shadows… or at least he thought so.

A low growl came and Ginny stopped in mid stride. She turned and with a strange face of wariness and something else he didn’t recognize, stared into the shadowed depths. Harry expected her to run, cry out or even a professor to happen by rather than the events that unfolded.

Ginny calmly put the books carried in one hand into her school bag and set it to the ground. Then with hands on hips, she continued to stare into the shadows.

“Are you going to hide in there forever,” spoke Ginny, quite bravely, “Or do you think staying there is going to do any good?”

For a moment there was nothing but silence until a frustrated sigh came from Ginny.

“There’s no point in pretending that I don’t know you’re there,” continued Ginny, “I can recognize when a vampire is lurking... unless you’re the timid, shy kind.”

That did draw a response as a low growl came and a matching voice as well.

“How do you know,” growled something in the shadows,” You shouldn’t be able to see me?”

“Well when there’s a vampire for a friend in the family,” replied Ginny,” A girl tends to learn a few details.”

Something moved in the shadows and Harry could see a form more definite than before.

“Details or not… you should not be able to see me,” growled the unidentified vampire in a nasty attitude, “Just like I should be able to smell your scent… but I can’t.”

“I never said what kind of details,” replied Ginny with clear sarcasm, “As for my… scent… that’s none of your business… not to mention the eyes are a bit of a giveaway… and just some advice… girls have a natural knack for sensing vampires nearby.”

“If you know as much as claimed?” snapped the growling creature then sneered, “You wouldn’t be so calm… I could hurt you… even kill you.”

Ginny just made a sound of amusement before responding with, “If you could then you would have done so already… but without my scent the draw isn’t there… plus I know a couple of deterrents.”

Silence followed the two and in that silence, Harry heard a faint roaring sound, like many voices at once.

“Why aren’t you at the Quidditch game,” asked the vampire quite snappishly,” Cheering uppity Gryffindor against that pathetic Hufflepuff lot?”

“Because Professor Binns didn’t like how few names I remembered for the exam on the ghoul uprising… so he kept me longer until I remembered more to his liking,” replied Ginny coolly, “Not a fond way to spend free time... but it beats hiding about.”

“I am not hiding,” shouted the vampire in growls,” If you knew anything!”

Ginny cut him off with, “Yes I know very well what’s wrong… I can see your teeth… you haven’t had any of your suppressant today have you.”

Her only answer was silence.

“So now you need to feed,” continued Ginny, taking the silence as an answer, “Professor Snape has a store of chicken blood… that’ll settle things.”

“I won’t reduce my-self to some,” started the vampire before Ginny cut in off again.

“Reduce nothing… you’d rather bite a girl’s neck,” snapped Ginny,” Get caught… if you know anything about your-self then you ought to know the ministries laws on that… hiding your identity… especially at a school like this… with a good group of the students are girls… believe me its bad.”

“I think you know too much,” growled the vampire dangerously, “Even for just having a vampire friend.”

“Are we going to get that blood now,” replied Ginny ignoring him, “Or would you rather nip at a first year and see where you end up?”

“Why are you planning to go with me,” inquired the vampire as Ginny shouldered her school bag?

“Because if you’re caught… there’s only two people who can get you that suppressant,” answered Ginny walking into the shadows towards the vampire, “One is Snape and I doubt he’s making it… the other is Daken… and I don’t think it would be a great thing if a vampire was discovered to be an adult male teaching here… now lets go.”

And with that Ginny walked into the shadows and down a corridor, the unknown vampire following with her. Harry was about to see the vampire as it step into the sunlight of the corridor when a hand grabbed his shoulder and the room spun again.

Harry closed his eyes and found him-self losing balance when another hand gripped his other shoulder, steadying him.

“Wake up Potter,” said a familiar voice in front of him, chuckling slightly, “Not a place to day dream.”

Harry’s balance steadied and the lightheaded feelings subsided. When he opened his eyes, two silver ones looked back at him. Startled suddenly Harry pushed the person away. Sounds of stomping of feet, following a grunt among other voices reached his ears. Harry’s eyes then focused to see Daken stumble back, regaining his balance having just recently been shoved.

“Sorry,” spoke Harry suddenly, “You surprised me.”

Mrs. Weasley was standing with Ginny, wiping the gooey potion from her hand, now healed and staring surprised at Harry. Charlie was on the other side of the kitchen, having just entered from outside, a piece of finished wood in one hand and staring, not as surprised, at Harry.

“I suppose that’s true,” replied Daken chuckling, “Never was the best thing to wake up to.”

Charlie walked by, not saying anything, into the living room.

Harry looked at his hands, still wet from the towel and remembered the stinging sensation. It had happened as well with Hermione, when brushed her cheek, he had relived a moment in her past and now the same had occurred with Ginny. Only with Hermione, he had witnessed everything through her and yet with Ginny, it had been in a third person view. Then his mind flashed, back to the Quidditch game with Hufflepuff, when stopping stopped the Bludger and a strange dream had come then too. Where two men had argued and one fell to his death. Three times now he had relived moments in the past, watching or witnessing, just like with Riddle nearly two years ago and now Harry wondered why.

“I may have startled you,” spoke Daken interrupting Harry’s thoughts, “But you had us a little worried.”

“I did?” asked Harry,” How?”

“You were just standing there,” answered Ginny, “The towel in your hand… not moving or anything… like you were petrified or something”

Harry was about to answer but a thought came to mind when he considered how Ginny’s mum would react to her daughter’s interaction with an unknown vampire. Deciding he wouldn’t be the start of trouble and gave a different answer.

“I was just remembering that usually I’m the one who gets hurt,” replied Harry, “And I was wondering how bloodied I was after that Quidditch game.”

“You’ve got Maylen to thank for that,” responded Ginny playfully, “Hermione told me that she had to leave the hospital wing because you needed to be cleaned up.”

Harry suddenly felt his whole body heat at the thought, remembering to have awoken with pajamas on. That revealed to Harry what Maylen had to do and it didn’t make it any less embarrassing suddenly. He turned back to the dishes to distract him-self from the current thoughts.

“That’s enough of that,” said Mrs. Weasley,” You go on off now.”

Knowing better than to argue, Harry dried his hands and rolled back his sleeves to follow the awaiting Ginny out of the kitchen. Just before stepping out, Harry watched as Daken poured an old butter yellowish colored liquid from a vial into a cup of whiskey.

“That’s the suppressant you take,” inquired Harry suddenly, “Ron tried to give me that before… it’s suppose to stop your vampire problems right?”

“Well it doesn’t stop anything… but it eases my… needs,” answered Daken simply.

“You and Maylen aren’t the only vampires at Hogwarts are you,” continued Harry?

Harry could feel Ginny tense next to him, Mrs. Weasley made a sound of quick intake and Daken just gave Harry a serious look.

“That’s not your concern,” replied Daken.

Harry felt otherwise as memories of his own vampire activities flashed. He glanced at Ginny remembering what had been said to her in the memory.

“I say it is my concern,” snapped Harry, his tone darkening, “I remember what I did and what I wanted to do… and if that’s happening with you and whoever else then it's a concern…especially since Malleck is a vampire”

Mrs. Weasley incurred now with, “Is Harry right, there’s more than you and Maylen?”

“And Malleck… or Markus… or whatever this person calls him-self,” added Harry, “That’s three vampires.”

“Yes,” answered Daken, taken a large gulp from his whiskey,” There’s a bit more of us.”

Sounds of footsteps came and Harry turned to see Rela along with a cleaned up Ron looking uneasy.

“I’d say more like six,” added Ron, his voice low and plain.

“Six,” shouted Mrs. Weasley, “How can there be so many!”

“Well,” began Daken, “There’s myself and Maylen yes… Malleck makes three… that’s true.”

“And the other three,” probed Harry?

“I’m not really at liberty to tell,” stated Daken with an amused smile.

Harry stared at Daken, clearly not amused.

“This is ridiculous,” said Ginny suddenly huffing, “Mum… he may as well know.”

Mrs. Weasley didn’t look too comfortable with her daughter at the moment but nodded her head anyways.

“Harry… the other three are you and Draco,” stated Ginny with exasperation, “And me.”

Harry stared at Ginny, clearly confused as he responded with, “I’m not a vampire… Madam Pomfrey said I was back to normal.”

“Maybe we should be a little clearer about that,” whispered Daken loudly, in a snickered tone.

Ron took a step forward and said, “What he means is that since you underwent an infusion from Daken’s blood… you have side effects from it all… just like Ginny.”

Harry looked back from Ginny and Ron, his curiosity clear.

“No I’m not a vampire exactly,” answered Ginny, “But I run the risk of problems as a result of an infusion.”

“Did you ever wonder why Ginny is the only girl in a family of boys,” added Daken?

“Arthur got hurt when a raid back fired… and the injuries received were severe,” explained Molly, her tone showing obvious signs of discomfort, “Using vampire blood can start immediate recovery and repair wounds within a short time… and given that we only had boys besides me… St. Mungo’s allowed for it.”

Harry gazed at Mrs. Weasley before he asked, “What does that have to do with Ginny?”

Mrs. Weasley redden and Daken answered for her with, “Even adults go through a bit of a vampire stage from that… we’ll simplify it all by saying Arthur being under that influence and Molly’s… condition… at the time all led to a pregnancy… a while later a baby girl was the result.”

Harry still didn’t say anything but continued to glance at different people.

“Arthur became a vampire as you have experienced… … both times only temporary of course… but there are still side effects,” finished Daken, “Ever seen Ginny in the dark while she’s mad… you might notice a slight yellow in her eyes.”

“But that doesn’t mean I am a vampire… or you,” interjected Ginny hastily, “It just means that for a while… because of how I was born and that vampires begin their transitions as teenagers… and you went through an infusion… we may still have some vampire influences in our behavior.”

“Such as,” inquired Harry lightly?

Rela stepped forward, speaking for the first time and hesitantly answered, “Well Ginny, like other female vampires, doesn’t produce a scent as humans normally do… you know how dogs and other animals can sniff us out… they can’t with female vampires… plus she has some of the vampire sensitivity… that’s how she knew about Draco… she can sense he’s a vampire.”

Harry’s mind thought back to Ginny’s memory he relived and remembered how she simply seemed to know what was there. Remembering the creature’s attitude, it became suddenly clear to be Draco.

“What about me,” continued Harry’s questioning?

“You can’t stop looking at Hermione can you,” sneered Daken playfully?

Ron watched a concern look cross Harry’s face and even disappointment but before he could voice against Harry’s thoughts, Rela spoke.

“Don’t reduce it to something so carnal,” snapped Rela, her voice suddenly fiercer than Harry had ever heard it, “If it was only just that… than her kissing your cheek would not have had such an effect on you Harry… if anything this is just helping you recognize her as a girl… or any girl as a girl for that matter.”

Rela immediately blushed at her words but smiled anyways having spoken her mind.

“She’s right,” said Daken, clearing his throat, drinking the last of his whiskey,” Just thought it’d be a laugh… but you two do have something special there… just like them.”

Ron’s ears shaded deeply red as did Rela’s small face. Ginny smiled deviously and Mrs. Weasley smiled as well but there was a touch of disapproval to her look.

“So,” spoke Harry slowly, seeing if he understood, “We’re going to be like this from now on.”

Mrs. Weasley stepped forward and placed her hand on Harry’s shoulder answering kindly, “No… because Ginny was born like this... she may continue on with skills or abilities to come and go as well as any tendencies… you’ll have that to… it’ll just take time for it all to wear off… however Draco… will develop into whatever vampire hybrid that his life takes… he will become a vampire where as you and Ginny won’t.”

“Good for that prat,” sneered Ron, a satisfied smile in place.

“Ron,” snapped Ginny, “That a terrible thing to say… even if is it Draco… you have no idea what this is doing to him!”

“And how do you know,” growled Ron, glaring at his sister?

“Do we need to go over the vampire thing again,” asked Daken from the table?

Ron just turned and glared at him.

“Ron,” interjected Rela now,” She can sense Draco’s problems… Ginny has the sensitivity of a female vampire even if she’ll never be one… that’s why she was always trying to help Hermione… she knew something was wrong… she can tell what this is doing to Draco.”

Ron calmed down and though he didn’t see it, Rela and Ginny gave each other a look.

“I guessed it… when we saw him outside the Great Hall,” said Ron, his tone plain, “He didn’t know what to think when he realized I knew what he was… didn’t guess he was related to Daken though.”

Harry remembered hearing about Draco’s boast of a relation to a famous vampire a while back and figured that the boast caught up to him. The Pure blood Draco claimed him-self to be wasn’t true anymore.

“What makes it worse for him is his father,” commented Daken.

“How is that,” questioned Ron confused, “If Draco’s one then so the other Malfoy.”

Daken played with his empty cup for a moment, watching a remaining drop swirl about.

“I suppose a father and son commonality would be good for them,” answered Daken in a sullen tone, staring at his cup, “But Lucius despises what he is… he’s used potions and lot other… painful ways… to repel that part of him… exactly like his father before him and before that… trying to filter out that vampire linkage through Pure blood marriages and magic… now that Draco is undergoing a full transition… in which he will become like me… a near complete vampire.”

They all stared at Daken but he didn’t look back.

“Draco found out the hard way that his father would reject that about him” continued Daken, “That’s part of why he was late to the beginning of the term… Draco came to me when he found out the truth from his mother…wasn’t a problem to hide our meeting from Lucius because he was in Bulgaria at the time.”

“But Draco is still his son... he’d have to accept him wouldn’t he,” asked Harry confused?

“Just because you’re related to someone doesn’t always make them something to you… I’m related to the Malfoys,” answered Daken, his voice low and dark, “But that doesn’t mean we have family outings… look at you and the Dursleys… you don’t exactly get warm, fuzzy feelings of happiness when you think of them do you?”

Harry had to agree, just the mention of his relatives brought a scowl to his face and he remembered how they referred his parents… wouldn’t even say their names.

Daken gave a sigh and continued with, “Should have seen the state the boy was in when he came to me… his whole world as he knew it destroyed… its not easy to find out that the only feelings your father has for you is that of a tool.”

“How horrible,” gasped Mrs. Weasley, “That can’t be true.”

Daken stopped fooling with his cup and gave her a stern look.

“You’ve met the bastard… what you think… we’ve already seen what he’d do to get Hermione… let’s not forget your own daughter,” growled Daken staring at Molly pausing a moment, “Oh yes Draco’s just a tool to him… a source of information about the happenings at Hogwarts that are not officially released… how do you think he found out about Dumbledore keeping quiet about the Muggle born attacks from the basilisk… no official announcements were made… but dear Draco… thinking he was earning more favor from his father… was more than happy to tell him everything he saw.”

Molly looked very displeased at Daken’s glare but a look of worry filled her face as Daken’s words of Draco continued.

“That thing of a wizard actually punished Draco for not making friends with Harry right away,” continued Daken, shaking his head, “Draco didn’t tell me that but Narcissa did… ever since then Draco’s been doing whatever he can to thwart Potter… anything to get Harry done in… anything to get recognition from his father by attacking Harry in any way… that was until he found out futile it all was.”

“What happen,” asked Ron, speaking now, a bit of concern to his voice for once concerning Draco?

“I won’t go into it much… kind of private,” spoke Daken, his voice with sorrow now, “Lucius had come back from Bulgaria apparently upset about a failure of some kind… of course now we know to be about Hermione… and it was then during his tirade about it all he voiced his opinions of Draco.”

Daken fell silent for moment before continuing, “I guess for once his nosy nature caught up to him… as Draco heard his father’s words… basically portraying Draco as noting more than a necessity to have been fulfilled… it doesn’t look good for a Pure blood family to be without a child… or for a governor so concerned with Hogwarts to not have a child invested… so Draco found out he was only serving a need… an investment… fulfilling a place revered no better than the role of a house elf… otherwise as a son or anything else Lucius rejects him completely.”

“But he bought those new brooms,” commented Ron.

“Looks quite good for a father to make such a contribution to his son’s house... shows how much he cares… doesn’t it?” replied Daken with a sound of amusement and then sarcastically added,” Not considering all that the money involved would show off his wealth… of course not bringing any doubt of fairness to competition between the houses … and lets not mention how it might snub in the idea of Pure bloods being better than Muggle born. After all, name a Slytherin that’s Muggle born?”

Ron stared with his mouth open and Rela fidgeted uncomfortably. Ginny just looked at the floor, saying nothing as her mother continued to look displeased.

“Draco might do like Barty Crouch’s son,” spoke Harry thinking aloud, “He might join Voldemort and kill his father to prove loyalty.”

Daken laughed loudly.

“There’s about as much of a chance of that happening,” spoke Daken in darkened amusement, “As there is for me to sprout wings and fly off.”

“Voldemort just used Maylen to get closer to Markus,” spoke Daken darkly,” To get the magical research he had… my jealousy blinded me to his true nature… but after everything… searching him out all those years.. I learned a few things… I learned that he absolutely hates vampires… maybe just a little less than the Muggle born… but not by much… Lucius may have been able to hide it but Draco won’t… truth is regardless of whether he deserves it or not… Draco is alone… rejected by his father and abandoned by connections to purity as he knew it… he had only just begun his transition when he came to me and now its happening to him in full force.”

“Why did he think we were friends… or at least that’s what you said,” inquired Harry?

“Probably just to make him-self sound less pathetic to me,” replied Daken.

“He doesn’t do much with Crabbe and Goyle now,” added Ginny hastily, pleading like almost, “Thick as they may be, they’d notice his problems and would to be quick to point it out… that’s how that lot is… willing to stab each other in the back at any chance to get ahead…. it would do more than get Draco in trouble but cause a real stir with the magical community to know that a governor is a vampire… is putting his vampire son in a school where he can prey on girls… Draco’s trapped in a no win situation.”

Ginny stopped to catch her breathe and Rela added, “Unregistered vampires are regarded at the same level as werewolves… it would destroy Draco in anyway… reveal him-self to his father… allow him-self to be identified at Hogwarts… no matter how you look at it, Ginny’s right, Draco’s trapped with no one he can trust… no real friends... unlike… us.”

Harry thought about everything, letting the past half of the term replay back in his mind. He couldn’t remember encountering Draco in the hallways since that one day. Potions became the next obvious thing, Snape was making no effort or notice of Draco, either because he now despised the Slytherin or because he recognized the danger and showed some kind of compassion in that. Though the latter was most unlikely, Harry wondered how he would react to Draco now.

“So there’s not much to worry about with you and Ginny… but we still need to watch things… Draco however, as we’ve clearly discussed,” finished Daken, “Doesn’t have such luck… and I’d appreciate it… considering he’s a distant nephew to me… that you don’t take advantage of this knowledge.”

It was less of a request and more of a demand to which no one made refusal.

The door burst open and Mr. Weasley rushed in quite happy as he held an empty wine bottle in one hand and a corkscrew with a removed cork in the other.

“I figured it out,” he shouted happily!

Then looking at everybody’s grim but surprised faces, he asked, “Did I interrupt something?”

“No Arthur,” replied Mrs. Weasley humorously, shaking her head, “You just surprised us.”

Following that, Mrs. Weasley shooed them off to get ready for bed as the late hour became evident with the strike of the clock. As the kids left the room, Molly had a question for Daken.

“Since Draco’s found out the truth and whatever else,” asked Molly cautiously, “Does that make him someone… that could be trusted?”

Daken took a slow breathe and thought a moment.

“He’s not definite of anything, “answered Daken,” But if I had to state a position I would say he’s like Snape… not a follower of Voldemort but not someone to turn your back on either… for now he’s just coasting in the background but I can see he’s has something in mind he’s planning.”

Going up the stairs, the girls bid goodnight and Ginny rushed Rela to her room while Ron commented something about that not being a good sign. Harry suddenly found him-self very tired and followed Ron up the stairs.

Before Ron continued Harry stopped with a sudden thought as he asked, “How does Rela know so much about vampires and that unregistered stuff?’

Ron yawned and answered, “Because her father is head of the Law Interpretation and Facilitation at the ministry… kind of like those muggle court people… layers or something?”

“Lawyers,” corrected Harry.

Ron just nodded with another yawn.

“Is that where you met her,” asked Harry, surprised by his own curiosity?

“More like ran into while trying to keep her from getting hurt,” grumbled out Ron, “Look we can chat about girls tomorrow… I need to sleep… night Harry.”

Harry instantly felt him-self go red and entered the room provide by the Weasleys. Harry suddenly found him-self so tired that he just fell to the bed and straight asleep.

When opening his eyes, Harry found him-self in a small room, all kinds of miscellaneous items inside and figured it to be some kind of storage room. A metal creaking sound made him turn to a door being closed. From the form in front of the door, Harry recognize there to be a girl there but for some reason, couldn’t identify her. No features seem to come into focus, only a bit of brown and a touch of blonde. Otherwise this girl still seemed unknown but the she knew him. Turning away from the closed door, somehow Harry knew she was pleased for some reason at his presence. Just as confusing as that seemed, he too found it pleasant to have this mystery girl present. She sauntered towards him, not saying a word, and when the distance closed, immediately wrapped her arms around his neck. She was right in front of him but still could not gain recognition in her hazy appearance. She leaned into him, close to Harry’s face.

“Wake up,” shouted someone in his ears.

An icy cold wetness covered his back and Harry twisted to sit up. Immediately, he found it hard to see as sunlight filled the room and the muscles in his back screamed from the icy wetness applied to it suddenly. Focusing, Harry found Ron standing by laughing as he held a bucket.

Harry’s body was tense and slow, sure signs that sleep had occurred. With the sunlight shinning through, Harry realized he had slept the entire night but it was not the only realization to come.

“Alright you slept long enough,” announced Ron in high spirits, “Now get up and get around… Hermione will be here soon and then we’re off.”

With that Ron turned and headed out quickly. Harry stood and straightened his glasses, not bothering with his hair as it was always pointless and stretched. His stomach rumbled for breakfast but that was not the only thing to make its presence known. Harry turned at a squeak of a floorboard to see Rela standing by his door, her face blushing.

“Morning,” greeted Harry, looking down at his wrinkled, slept in clothes.

Rela just continued to look at him, not saying anything.

“What is it,” asked Harry?

“Did… did you... sleep alright,” inquire Rela, slightly timid again, “Ron checked on you earlier… he said you weren’t… talking… not talking in Parseltongue.”

Harry gave her a look and Rela responded by blushing slightly.

“Hermione… she’ll want know,” added Rela hastily but with hesitation as well, “And Ron has plans for us to split up today… in Diagon Alley… so you… you may not get a chance to tell her... but I could.”

Harry continued to stare at her. Rela’s eyes widen as if a sudden thought came to mind.

“Oh of course… you shouldn’t have to tell me anything,” added Rela again, suddenly embarrassed, “ It’s not like you know me well enough to tell me anything private... I’m sorry for suggesting it.”

Harry couldn’t understand this girl. She was so timid most of the time but seemed to be able to make a point easily as she demonstrated the previous night. Harry relented to him-self at not knowing much about girls but he didn’t quite see why Ron wanted to spend time with her. Then Harry remembered that he him-self wasn’t always openly friendly with everyone and Ron wasn’t talkative at first either.

- Guess we just ring in the odd ones, - thought Harry.

Rela fidgeted, seeming to contemplate a thought until Harry spoke again.

“I don’t see why not?” responded Harry, “I’m not really sure what I dreamt just that it wasn’t a nightmare that much I know.”

Rela suddenly had an encouraged look and took a step in.

“I could probably tell you,” said Rela, very hopeful, “My Divination class already covered dream analysis last year and I received top marks.”

“Okay,” began Harry, “Well there wasn’t much to it… I was in some kind of storage closet and there… there was some girl… I didn’t recognize her… and I couldn’t really make out anything about her.”

“You could see the room just fine but the girl was unfamiliar,” repeated Rela then asked, “Did she do anything?”

“Well,” hesitated Harry, “She got close to me.”

Rela’s face shaded and simply stated, “Its nothing… it’s kind of a fantasy thing… the girl is no one… it’s the situation… guess you’re the kind that likes to do things in private.”

Harry considered what she said for a moment and found it made sense. He never liked doing things where everyone could watch him, excluding Quidditch and everything they had ever done had always been private. So it seemed to make sense and Harry just nodded to it.

Rela’s face quickly bore a smile and she looked ready to say something more before Ron’s voice cut in.

“Hey,” shouted Ron from somewhere further down the stairs, “What you all doing? Hermione’s going to be here soon and I want us to be able to get going. Ginny, you too hurry up!”

Harry heard a door open and slam closed while Ginny’s voice rang out, demanding for Ron to calm down and she’d be ready when she was.

“Thanks,” whispered Harry as Rela started to leave.

She just nodded with a smile and closed the behind her.

Like Ginny, Harry took his time as well getting ready even though Ron continued to holler out for them every few minutes. Harry found it hard to decide what to wear for some reason. Since Dobby had restored and re-adjusted all the clothes Harry had, it was almost an adventure to going through them all. Seeing him-self with new looking trousers or slacks and new looking sweaters or shirts was distracting. He barely noticed the loud knock at the door.

“What are you doing,” came Ron’s voice, “Did you forget how to put on a shirt?”

Harry turned to see Ron standing in the door way smirking at him.

“You should see what Dobby did,” replied Harry, holding up a shirt that once use to be twice its size and faded.

“Yeah I guess that is neat,” agreed Ron, “But if you’d rather stay up here and play with your clothes… then I tell that Muggle born girl in the kitchen to head off.”

Harry stared and Ron added,” Hermione’s here… you want to make her wait or are you going to go see her?”

Suddenly the prospect of seeing Hermione put Harry into a state. Even with all his clothes new looking, he didn’t know what to wear or even why he was so concerned. Harry started sifting through sweaters and trousers, nothing seemed right.

“How about an informed opinion,” spoke a new voice?

Harry looked again as Bill walked into the room, his hair still long and bound, much to the dismay of his mother, and still wearing dragon hide boots. Just as cool as the first time Harry had met him.

“With the help from a few friends, “said Bill walking up to the dresser, “I’ve learned a few tricks and tips.”

After a few minutes, Harry was in blue trousers and light brown polo shirt.

Harry was looking into a mirror, attempting for some absurd reason to comb his hair while Ron asked, “Okay I’m no expert but how can you be sure that looks good for him?”

“She likes his eyes,” asked Bill in return, “All the girls like his eyes right?”

“Yeah,” answered Ron slowly, still confused?

“The clothes he’s wearing are plain and boring,” explained Bill, “That means you have to pay attention to his face… and his eyes. Fleur said she even liked Harry’s eyes... always highlight the most attractive feature… that’s what Binkins taught me”

“Who,” asked Ron suspiciously?

His brother just smiled with mischief and answered,” That’s my secret and you’re probably still too young to know… come see me next year.”

- I’ll bet, - thought Ron, giving a knowing glance to his brother, - We’ll see if I’m still too young. -

“Oh by the way Harry,” spoke Bill asking, “Are you Dobby’s master or something?”

Harry looked back, finally giving up on his hair, answering, “No, Dobby’s free. If anything I’m just his friend. Why do you ask?”

“I got in late last night and at first I thought we had an intruder,” replied Bill puzzled, “Then I saw Dobby’s ears with those elf eyes and realized what it was. He was scurrying about; doing everything from finishing the dishes left in the sink and even putting the furniture in the living room back in order from the Grangers’ visit last night.”

“Well that elf’s been weird since I met him,” said Ron, “But that does beg the question as to why he was here. Master or no master they’d probably need him at Hogwarts for that search thing of theirs.”

“Unless, Dobby had a reason for not staying there, “questioned Harry commenting curiously, “Or wanting to for that matter.”

“What are you getting at,” inquire Ron, while Harry straightened his shirt further?

“Malleck’s a vampire right?” asked Harry explaining as Ron nodded his head, “So is Maylen and Daken… and when he reacted to me….we saw that when dragged us into that closet when Maylen and Daken had their row.”

“Well,” added Bill, “Far as I know anyways, vampires and elves have never really seen eye to eye, pardon the pun.”

Harry fussed with the belt of his trousers before Bill clicked his tongue and said, “Look… another rule I learned… never keep the witch waiting… that’s their prerogative.”

“Learn that at Binkins,” said Ron chiming in?

His brother just gave him a curious look as Harry relented to the state of his appearance.

“I ought to just that throw comb away,” commented Harry walking down the stairs to the living room, heading for the kitchen, “Might as well be a paper weight for all the use it is to me.”

“Give it to Ginny,” whispered Ron, “She’s always combing that bristle she calls hair.”

“You better watch it Ron Weasley,” shouted Ginny in their direction, “Or I’ll tell Rela what happen the first time he tried to ride a broom!”

In an instant, Ron’s ears went scarlet and Harry tried hard to hide his amusement, noting to ask about it some time. Finally Bill led them into the kitchen to a site Harry wondered if he had been waiting for or dreamt of.

Hermione wore witch robes rather than Muggle clothing as Harry seemed to be dressed like. She wore a knee length light gray skirt and standard black cloak. Instead of the usual blouse and neck tie worn with Hogwarts robes, she had on a forest green sweater with a white shirt of some type underneath, visible from the collar.

Harry couldn’t help looking her over to see those details and it clicked in his mind that Ginny was right, green did suit her as it made her chocolate brown eyes stand out.

Harry’s sudden memorizations distracted him as Hermione watched a taller messy black haired boy, dressed more confidently than she had ever seen walk into the kitchen. His clothes may have been neat and pressed but they were nothing to his eyes. They just seemed to jump out at her from the plain but neat image before her, screaming for her attention in some way.

There was a sudden choking sound and Hermione had to look away, disappointed though, to see Ginny struggling to swallow her milk upon seeing Harry.

“Nice touch Bill,” gasped out Ginny, “Why don’t you just put a sign on his neck telling the girls to flock at him?”

Harry felt his face heat and Rela giggled as Ron took a seat next to her.

“Maybe that’s not a bad idea,” joked Bill stopping suddenly at a stern look from his mother.

Even though conversation had taken more time, Ron was still excited as ever to leave as soon as possible. Harry wondered what the big deal was, considering they were going to Diagon Alley and this was not the first time.

However, Mrs. Weasley refused for anyone to leave until they had spot of breakfast, which meant for everyone to have at least two helpings of things. Mrs. Weasley seemed to fuss over Rela being too thin for a girl her age and would not let Harry have an empty plate for more than moment. Hermione laughed away as she ate plums and bananas. It wasn’t until Mrs. Weasley pointed out she needed more than fruit that it occurred to Harry that was the only food he had seen Hermione eat all year, just fruit. Even in the hospital wing she only brought fruit and Harry remembered he had rather of had. He decided to stop thinking about it as his thoughts drifted beyond what seemed comfortable.

The clock struck its bells signaling that it was late morning and Ron insisted that if they ate anymore they have some kind of poisoning. Though his mother just gave him a look of idiocy, she did relent.

“I’ll get our cloaks,” announced Ron excitedly.

“I need to go back to my… my room, “said Harry pausing a second, “I need my key.”

“Rela and I will ready the living room, “added Ginny looking to Hermione about to ask something when her mother cut in.

“Hermione, “spoke Molly hastily, “Would you be a dear and help me a second? All the people in this house, I can barely keep up.”

Hermione made no argument but made quick at snatching up the dishes without regret.

After every one had left he room, leaving only Hermione and Molly, the Weasley mother revealed her reasons for Hermione’s aid.

“That’s enough of that,” announced Mrs. Weasley, turning and giving Hermione a serious look, “I’ll take the potion jar now… I imagine it should be just about empty anyways.”

Hermione just stared blankly at Mrs. Weasley, not moving an inch.

“Don’t think I don’t know you have a bottle of Dreamless Sleep Draft,” added Molly seeing Hermione’s expression, “Being a mother I know its effects quite well… Harry’s has nightmares but suddenly, every so often, he has a good night’s rest and then everything happens again.”

Hermione realized that Molly knew her secret quite well and reached slowly into her robe withdrawing the small bottle. Molly held her hand out for it and Hermione, with reluctance, placed it in her hands.

“I know you don’t approve but,” started Hermione before Molly’s raised hand stopped her.

Molly shook the contents of the remaining liquid, examining it, removed the top and poured the remaining into the sink. As the small amount dripped into the drain, Hermione felt her worries rise quickly. Molly then rinsed out the jar and dried it with her apron.

Hermione didn’t know what to say or think to explain her-self until she saw the mischievous smile on Molly’s face.

“Looks like you need a refill,” said Mrs. Weasley, “And you’re in the right place for it.”

With that Molly turned around and slid her hand behind a cupboard as Hermione stared in shock at the woman. There came a clicking sound and the cupboard it-self swung out to reveal a hidden space behind. She started sorting through some bottles inside before speaking again.

“You are the only other person to know about this, not even my husband knows… I would like it to stay that way, “said Molly, “I expected to show this secret to my daughter… and I suppose that in way I have… if everything plays right of course.”

“Why do you have that,” asked Hermione, having found her voice in the confusion?

“One day you’ll be a mother,” explained Molly, “And you’ll learn that sometimes… having a few secret tricks… can make a world of difference.”

Having found the bottle she sought, Molly turned back around and held Hermione’s jar to the tip, pouring in a similar contents.

“Take Percy for example,” added Molly, “As a child he had a terrible time with storms… sensitive ears… one crack of thunder and he was up the rest of the night… believe me a young child without a good nights sleep is worse than Peeves on a bad day… but a hug from mother and a good cup my ‘special’ tea and he doesn’t know about the storm the rest of the night.”

Molly had filled the contents to just shy of the rim before she capped it off, handing it back to Hermione with a surprisingly caring smile.

“My brew is much stronger than that slop Severus must have made, given its color, “explained Molly with a serious tone Hermione had never heard, “You barely need half a teaspoon in something and it’ll work just the same… so that will last you much longer… however don’t rely on it… if what my owl posts from Dumbledore are true than Harry will develop a resistance to that very quickly if used consistently… so try to be sparse… nightmares or not he still needs to dream.”

Hermione clamped her hand around the bottle, pocketing quickly as her feelings became so mixed and overwhelmed that she didn’t know what she was feeling. A great secret given to her as well as treasured aid and all of it so sudden that only one thought was clear in the form of a question.

“How,” said Hermione, being that all she could muster out?

Footsteps could be heard nearing the kitchen and Molly quietly answered, “Vegetables aren’t the only thing in my garden… and Lilly wasn’t the only girl who knew a thing or two about potions… it’s what brought us together in the beginning.”

Ginny hurried in and ushered Hermione out of the kitchen.

Harry descended the stairs quickly having found his vault key. Entering the living room, Harry walked towards the fireplace, preparing to take the unpleasant Floo trip to Diagon Alley. However he quickly realize he was the only one at the fireplace as every one else was gathered more in the middle of the room.

“Sorry mate,” apologized Ron, “I forgot to mention we’re not going by Floo.”

“Then how,” responded Harry, stopping when Ron held something out to him?

In Ron’s hand lay a dull colored, but shiny green stone and in the other, a bag baring similar stones. Harry made to reach for it when Hermione answered his prior, incomplete question.

“We’re using Port keys,” answered Hermione happily but her voice trailed out quickly, “There isn’t enough Floo powder and we promised to.”

Hermione stopped in mid sentence as her voice had trailed out watching Harry. He hadn’t taken the stone from Ron and looked seriously displeased, as the green of his eyes dimmed quickly replaced by a tinge of red.

“Harry… are you okay,” inquired Ron?

“I’m fine,” snapped Harry his tone dark suddenly.

“Harry it’s just a Port key,” lightly added Hermione, not able to finished as Harry caught her off,” They’re.”

“I KNOW VERY WELL WHAT IT IS,” shouted Harry, rounding on Hermione suddenly, “I HAVE LEARNED A FEW THINGS IN MY TIME!”

Hermione just stared at him, nobody said anything at first but an odd look came to Harry’s face. Then the room chilled quickly and everyone was quite aware of it.

“Harry it’s nothing to be afraid of,” spoke Ginny in a comforting manner.

As soon as she had said it, Ginny learned to quickly regret having done so.

“What did you say,” whispered Harry threateningly, glaring at her?

“Stop it,” snapped Hermione suddenly, “Don’t act this way.”

“I’ll decide my own behavior thank you,” replied Harry snappishly right back to her.

A multitude of things on the walls and shelves about the living room began to rattle slightly and the owls flew off from their perches as Hermione stood looking directly at Harry hands on her hips. Her stance was strangely vigilant, given the changing situation and her expression showed both the similar vigilance and displeasure. A small glow came to her eyes as they locked with Harry’s glare.

“You’re acting like a prat,” returned Hermione harshly, “And that’s not how you are.”

Her words didn’t seem to diminish Harry’s behavior, rather in some way only make him worse.

“And what makes you think you know me so well,” inquired Harry just as harsh, “You have your damn nose in a book most of the time… or being the perfect student with the rules… it must be easy to be so damn uppity when you’ve always had everything you’ve wanted.”

As hurtful as the words were they didn’t seem to faze Hermione as she gave Harry an inquiring look.

“Okay maybe we should just wait a bit before,” started Ron, speaking now after some time before being cut off?

“Why,” interrupted Harry his tone darkening even more, turning to Ron, “Aren’t you worried you’ll miss something… worthwhile… you were in such a damn hurry to leave before… why stop now?”

Unlike Hermione, Ron didn’t stay so calm at first.

“I do want to go,” quietly answered Ron through gritted teeth, his ears reddening, “I just thought you’d want a moment to collect your-self.”

“And just when the hell did you become an expert on what I want?” growled Harry, mockingly adding, “So I didn’t take to the Port key right away… I’m so sorry for being terribly ungrateful.”

Sounds of thunder rumbling outside reached their ears.

Ron’s reddening ears deepened and he glared back, about to respond when Harry added further.

“But you’re even worse,” added Harry, barely moving his mouth, clenching his hands to fists, “Whining about not being like anyone in your family… at least you have one you pathetic louse!”

As could be expected Ron would charge at being so heartlessly insulted… yet he did nothing, his deepening anger faded instantly and like Hermione, joined in giving Harry a funny look.

Ginny stood by Ron saying nothing but she didn’t look hurt or insulted either. However Rela took a step forward.

“How are they suppose to know what you want if you don’t say,” question Rela, calmly and strangely brave compared to her usually timid attitude, “Considering everything you three have done together… have you ever had a chance to just sit around and talk about your-selves? Harry you never knew Ginny had vampire issues… or you never knew after four years how Ron felt his whole life before you… and are you sure Hermione always had what she wanted… she wasn’t too happy when she first started at Hogwarts and do you know why that was?”

Harry turned slowly and glared at the petite blonde girl, his cheek twitching slightly as if contemplating a serious of thoughts.

“Why don’t you tell them what bothers you about Port keys,” suggested a voice to the side, “Dumbledore did suggest that you stop withholding from your friends.”

A quick look revealed Daken at the base of the stairs. Molly stood, looking nearly mortified, at the kitchen doorway. Silence followed for while the chilling of the room stopped along with the sound of rumbling.

“What difference would it make now?” asked Harry, his voice calm suddenly but a nasty ring of anger still present, looking at the floor, “It won’t change anything.”

“On the contrary,” answered Daken, “Telling people things such as what you want or what’s bothering you isn’t about changing events, past or present… its about trust and letting those outside your-self become involved… I’ve gone the route opposite to that and believe me I wouldn’t suggest that to anyone.”

“People who get involved with me,” stated Harry plainly, “Get hurt… or worse.”

Saying this, Harry glanced from Ginny to Hermione, his point clarifying in a look.

Daken eyes squinted slightly in response and Molly’s look became soft. Harry felt a hand touch his back and he spun around to see Hermione only a step away. In turning, her hand had slid from his back and came to rest against the fabric on his chest. She had a small smile in place and looked at him with eyes baring no grudge of hurtfulness.

“Don’t blame your-self for any of that,” said Hermione quietly,” It was stupid to be a girl my age in Bulgaria with adult wizard in the first place, regardless of who it was… I made that choice… what was done with Ginny, that wasn’t about you… Remember? Malfoy wanted to stop that Muggle Protection Act Mr. Weasley was trying to get past at the time… Ginny was used as a ploy against her father… not you... so don’t blame your-self for everything.”

His attitude changed slowly as Hermione watched his eyes define them-selves with green again, pushing away the growing red.

“She’s right,” added Daken, “People like Malfoy were planning and doing these kinds of things to people’s lives before you and it will happen whether you’re involved or not… take a moment to realize that these plans have not gone into fruition because you risked everything to prevent them.”

Harry just looked at Hermione and she continued to smile back.

Looking away for a moment, Harry stated, “The trophy in the maze was a Port key… it led to the cemetery… where… where everything happened… I guess that made Port keys… a bit uncomfortable to me.”

As soon as Harry finished the last word, Rela saw Ron’s face do a twisted mix of sudden realization and a bit of self-loathing as his fist tightened around his port key. Rela heard a small crack and knew Ron had broken it in his grip.

“We… we didn’t… we didn’t know,” replied Hermione slowly and gently, “We won’t use it then… one of us will go to Diagon Alley separately… nip some more Floo powder and then we’ll go that way… okay?”

Harry didn’t say anything but she noticed a glassy glare to his eyes as they began to water.

- He’s not over all that, - thought Hermione suddenly, - We’ve never talked about it. -

“No,” said Harry his voice just above a whisper, “They’re already made… it would be a waste.”

Harry turned and before he could ask Ron for a Port key, Mrs. Weasley cut in.

“Harry,” inquired Mrs. Weasley very gently, “Were Petunia and Vernon really as bad as Ron has said?”

Harry made a sound of a laugh and as if he couldn’t stop, a flood of answers sneered out, “Let’s see… I never knew anything about my parents’ death besides actually being dead… didn’t know anything about my past until Hagrid showed up… oh yeah that was a great way to find out… some gamekeeper busting down the door with a big surprise of guess what ‘you’re a wizard Harry’... suddenly I find out I’m responsible for the defeat of some evil wizard… of course that must pale in comparison of ten years of being called boy instead of my own name… watching that bloated tub of lard get everything he so much as looked at… while I did chore after chore… I guess someone told them I was a house elf… at least I had a nice cupboard to be locked in… worked great when they didn’t want me around… I suppose I should kiss their feet for putting me in Dudley’s second bedroom.”

Harry stopped having to catch his breath and Hermione watched in horror as every trace of green drained from his eyes in a near instant and the red glow returned growing ever more in dominance. His expression darkened to even a state she had never seen of him. The glass of picture frames cracked. Flowers in a cracking vase on a coffee table nearby wilted black, dead as if for weeks. Hermione along with everyone else felt his or her hair begin to frizz. A strange sound of something running about came from the attic. Crookshanks stood on the landing of the stairs, hissing away, his fur on end. The sunlight from outside dimmed and darkness began to overtake the room. And through all that, the rumble of thunder returned, even louder, signaling an impending storm approaching.

Moving with surprising speed, Mrs. Weasley had come to wrap her arms around Harry’s shoulders, embracing him suddenly. Harry looked away and instantly a battle engaged. Hermione, possibly others, watched as his eyes changed colors continuously. Green and red seemed to contend for occupation of Harry’s eyes.

Hermione realized what Dumbledore had tried to convey, that it wasn’t just his magic the orb had affected but also his heart. Now, somewhere a demon had been released from whatever dark place that lay in Harry’s heart. Struggling to be free and take away the Harry they knew.

“Forget about them,” whispered Mrs. Weasley loudly to Harry’s ear, “Petunia always despised your mother… I knew that the first time I met the woman… but I never imagined she’d be like this… I always thought that you and Ron were just exaggerating things a bit… like children tend to do with those they don’t like… but I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

As quick as everything had started again, it stopped and Harry’s eyes reclaimed a dim green to them, not as bright as they normally were but not red either. All the while only Rela and Daken noticed Ron’s eyes take an orange glow at Harry’s words of his relatives.

After a minute, Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry who looked drain now.

“We can go tomorrow,” stated Ron without any disappointment, “We still got another day until Christmas.”

“I’m fine,” responded Harry, taking a deep and heavy breath, “Let’s go ahead and leave… if Diagon Alley is anything like the Muggle world then this time of year, especially tomorrow, will be really busy.”

“Okay,” replied Ron cautiously.

He tossed the bag of colored stones, the other port keys, on to the sofa, one of them broken into smaller fragments. Ron held a different colored stone in his hand now and put his arm out in front of everyone.

“We’ll all go together,” announced Ron, “Using the same Port key… so we stay together.”

Rela and Ginny each a placed a finger on the stone as did Hermione. Harry hesitated for a second then placed his own finger as well. A tap from Ron’s wand and they vanished from the spot, not seeing as Molly stormed back towards the kitchen.

“Harry has a lot of issues,” called out Daken, “I wouldn’t think you’d be upset with all that.”

Molly stopped and turned back to glare at Daken.

“Who said I’m angry with Harry, “replied Molly hastily, “Its not his fault some damn fool wizard thought it smart to put him with ‘those’ people.”

“So this doesn’t have anything to do with what Jean said to you… or what you sent Charlie out to get,” asked Daken, “After all we already clarified that like Ginny, Harry wasn’t going to be vampire.”

Molly looked further displeased and replied with, “I understand that being a vampire you have a hard time not overhearing conversations with your hearing…however it might do you well to make sure you understand what you heard… Jean has a right to be worried about any boy her daughter may be interested in regardless of their past… do you think I approved of that Clearwater girl Percy brought to dinner or do you think I approved of Rela right away… no I didn’t… mothers don’t approve of their children’s choices right away… its natural tendency to think someone’s not good enough… but I’ve come to like Rela quite a bit as I did Ms. Clearwater… Rela seems timid but that’s more of an act than anything, she’s got a strong temperament her-self.”

Just before Molly turned back towards the kitchen, Daken added, “And Charlie?”

“That, it is my concern not yours,” finished Molly curtly, “I told Charlie to get a plank not a stake… I’ll just say that Hogwarts isn’t the only thing I plan to give Harry a holiday from.”

“His nightmares,” pressed Daken?

He received no response except for Molly walking briskly back into the kitchen.

- What trick are you using this time, - thought Daken, - And what would it have to do with a wooden plank? -

Meanwhile a quick pulling sensation to his midsection and Harry opened his eyes to see him-self standing in a back area of the Leaky Cauldron. A door creaked opened and Tom entered, greeting the students, apparently their arrival having been pre-arranged. After collecting them-selves, they followed him out into the commissary of the pub.

They shared a quick picture of pumpkin juice at Hermione’s insistence before stepping from the pub into Diagon Alley via the special entrance. Their first stop was to traverse Diagon Alley to Gringotts. Surprisingly enough Hermione seemed apprehensive about it but didn’t say why. As they walked the distance, they saw some of their school chums along the way. Some Ravenclaw girls snatched Rela away for a moment, talking in whispers with her, using words that brought shades of red to her small face. Ron would stand by, trying not to look as though he wanted to know what was said but he did have a smirk. Ginny had managed to pull Hermione into a shop for a moment, slipping away for a second while Ron and Harry waited. Harry couldn’t help but notice Ron’s looks to Rela and his curiosity came through.

“Ron,” spoke Harry?

Ron gave a sound, recognizing that Harry had said his name.

“You said you met Rela at the ministry,” question Harry, “Trying to save her or something?”

Ron’s ears redden a bit as he responded, “Oh yeah… it was a training thing.”

Harry just looked at him.

“They have this room there where you can practice your aiming against these spheres… they’re like Bludgers actually… except their bigger and they don’t break easy,” explained Ron, “Well one day I was practicing on them and I heard a yell and a crash of other things.”

Now Harry’s curiosity peeked further as he listened intently.

“Well there‘s a plaque or something outside the room that says if you enter you’re a target,” continued Ron, “And Rela was walking by carrying some stuff to her dad when it toppled over into the training room… she walked in… oh and there’s another rule… you can’t leave until you beat the things or they beat you which ever happens first.”

“Why were you in there then,” inquired Harry surprised, “You’re not an Auror?”

“Oh that was Moody’s idea,” answered Ron, “He stepped out before it started and said he’d be back in ten minutes… must have gotten busy cause I was in there for about a half hour… mum wasn’t pleased.”

Harry stared incredulously at Ron.

“Anyways so Rela got trapped and like I said those things act like Bludgers, so they come after you,” continued Ron, “She didn’t seem quite ready for it all… so I kept her out of harm’s way until Moody decided to finally show… the old nut said he had fallen asleep in his office… she was really shaken until her dad showed… I thought he was going to bust a gut with Moody… until he saw me that is.”

“Why is that,” pressed Harry?

Ron ears went even redder than before as he answered, “Oh I suppose it had something to do with my hand on her knee… guess he didn’t quite approve of me so familiar with his daughter… wasn’t like I was thinking that stuff and didn’t even realized I had done it… Rela didn’t seem to mind… in fact she sent an owl post to me the next day and we met again at the ministry… so it just took off from there.”

Harry didn’t have much chance to respond as Rela was able to break away from her group and Ginny along with Hermione returned from whatever shop they had gone.

So they continued their trek to Gringotts and received a surprise as they entered the goblin run bank. Just as the door open and they were being bowed in, one of the goblins came rushing up to them. The goblin smiled at them with spaced, sharp teeth and beckoned them.

“Welcome Mr. Potter and party,” wheezed the goblin, “To what do we owe the honor?”

Harry along with everyone but Rela stared at the goblin. Rela was looking everywhere as apparently this was her first time in Gringotts.

“I’m here to make a withdrawal… I have my key,’ began Harry before he was cut off.

“Oh no need for formalities… just tell me how much you would like and I’ll have it brought to you,” wheezed the goblin happily, “You’ve been bringing in a lot of business for us… and we always go extra for our special accounts… many fees we’ve been able to charge all thanks to you sir… and your party… I would be happy to accommodate them as well.”

Hermione spoke up, hesitantly with, “Well I have some notes I need to exchange so I can.”

She had withdrawn the British notes from a pocket and before she could finish her sentence the goblin snapped his fingers once and another goblin rushed up with a leather sack. It seized the notes and began counting away, comparing his counts to a parchment. After a moment, it opened the bag and held out a sum of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts to her, never saying a word but smiling quite pleased with it-self.

“The other ladies and gentleman and lets not forget you Mr. Potter,” spoke the goblin?

Ron stared at Harry, who in turn just shrugged his shoulders in reply.

“My father was supposed to have transferred our accounts from Germany,” said Rela still looking around.

“Account transfer... very well the name miss,” said the goblin, snapping his fingers three times and another goblin came to his side with a huge heft of parchment and a leather sack as well?

“Oh… Minet,” answered Rela, “Regina Lauren Minet… my father is Belmus Minet.”

The goblin with the parchment began madly flipping through pointed at something then whispered to its apparent superior. They instantly went into a frenzy of whispers, speaking their own language as nothing they said made sense. Rela began to become obviously nervous about something until at one point the goblin that had been talking with, pointed at Harry then her and said something harshly to the other goblin. Harry looked to Rela to see the girl getting upset and trying to hide it, help by Ron standing by her as he whispered something to her ear. After a few minutes the goblins stopped talking and both peered at Rela strangely. The assistant goblin put the parchment down and opened the leather sack. Thought it seem to be unsettled at the task.

“Oh yes the accounts have been transferred… minus a small fee of course,” wheezed their host, still peering strangely at Rela, “How much would you like… Ms. Minet?’

“I’ll take the whole lot thank you,” snapped Rela surprisingly, her eyes taking a quick move to look around.

The goblin began to reach into its sack with an odd look of knowing before Ron cut in.

“Hold on,” interrupted Ron and he pulled Rela off to the side gently and they went into whispers as well.

At this action the two goblins looked at each other in surprise. Somehow Ron’s actions had caught them off guard and Harry took a chance to let his eyes peruse the room as well. Every goblin in the place was looking at Rela, even Ginny looked slightly nervous as well. Hermione gave Harry a confused look as this had gone beyond her range.

Harry looked back to Ron and Rela and was able to catch her saying something about Germany and something happening again. She looked very flustered suddenly but Ron somehow seemed to be encouraging her somehow.

Having had enough, Harry decided to get an answer as he asked their host goblin, “What’s going on? Why is there such a problem with her?”

The goblin smiled, slightly wary now, as it replied, “There was the suspicion of thievery for a moment but it has been corrected.”

Harry nodded to the row of goblins staring at Rela off to the side from their desks of scales and monetary items before snapping back, “Just a suspicion?”

At this, the goblin made a sound and the others around them went right back to work.

Rela came back and asked for fifteen sickles, correcting her last request. The goblin pulled her requested amount from his sack but she refused to take them. Instead Ron took the money, handing them to her after the goblin walked away. She dropped the coins into an inside pocket and said nothing. Harry made a note to him-self to ask Ron why the goblins would suspect theft from her.

“And you miss,” said their host goblin to Ginny?

It took a step back for a second as Ginny glared angrily at the goblin for a moment before responding with, “Nothing for me… I’m just here for the trip.”

And with that she stalked off, took Rela by the shoulder and gently pushed the girl to follow. Ron didn’t intervene against them, given that his sister gave him a look.

-And I thought I was the one with problems, - thought Harry?

The goblin now looked to Ron and before it could say anything, he snapped, “I’m fine too… already got mine.”

The goblin cleared his throat and with a note of nervousness asked, “That just leaves you Mr. Potter, what would you like to withdrawal?”

Harry thought a second and answered, “How about ten Galleons? Oh I’ll need to exchange for about twenty British pounds too.”

“Why do you need to exchange Harry,” inquire Hermione?

Meanwhile the goblin began snapping away with its fingers and dispensing orders to its sub ordinates that came to the call.

“Well Dobby’s been a big help what with my trunk and all that before,” answered Harry, “So I promised my-self to get him some socks. He loves socks, the Muggle kind mainly so I thought we could step out onto the street and see if there’s a shop nearby before we go.”

Hermione just smiled saying nothing while two goblins approached Harry, one with ten Galleons in hand and the other with twenty British pounds along with some small papers Hermione recognized.

While taking the gold and pounds but staring at the small papers, Harry asked, “What are those?”

Hermione reached forth and snatch them from the goblin’s hands receiving a nasty look while she hastily said, “These are deposit notes that Professor McGonagall needs to sign.”

Harry just nodded his head and said nothing. They said their goodbyes and left Gringotts to find Ginny and Rela talking animatedly with each other. Rela looked a great deal happier now but Harry was sure he heard Rela say something to Ron about never stepping into Gringotts again.

“Alright,” announced Ginny after they had walked back up a short distance through Diagon Alley, “This is where we split up.”

Ron perked up, grabbed Harry’s arm and began to practically drag him away from the group shouting a ‘see you later’ to the girls.

Next Chapter

25. Storm of Torment Part 2

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I ran into two major/minor snags on this chapter. One was writer’s block trying to link certain key points. Let me warn you now that I’m not satisfied with this chapter because the flow never seemed right. It’s also almost twice as long as any of the others. The reason for this was that certain points didn’t work in right until this chapter. The second is, as some of you already know, I work for the college that I attend as a computer technician. So much of the summer is used to overhaul servers, office computer replacement and the like. This summer has been the worst because layoffs and cut backs have made our working times quite strenuous. I still have every intention of finishing this story, you can be sure of that as taxes.

I’ve have been asked about my character Daken as an original character. Daken is from a story I wrote in my middle school time about a vampire that when human had watched his family slaughtered and his attackers turned him into one. He wanders the earth for years in search of those who committed those atrocities, seeking to destroy them. Spending years resenting what humanity takes for granted and indulging in the sweet vengeance. However the Daken in this story is seriously toned-down as originally he is homicidally insane. That is until he finds that his own heart is not as frozen as thought when meeting another on a quest for vengeance.

Returning back to the story at hand let me also add that I’m under the impression from the ending of the fourth book that Harry only told Sirius and Dumbledore the events of the maze and cemetery. I may be wrong, as the fifth book appeared to have indicated to me. I just ask that my perception please be kept in mind in reading this chapter and for future chapters. Since that is what I thought upon starting this story.

Some memory pieces mentioned in the end are made up from guessing from material in the books and not actually stated.

This chapter has not undergone a FULL beta read for corrections but I wanted so badly to post it, so I hope its okay. This chapter is like 90 pages on my MS Word so if you want to read the whole thing, you might want a soda and snack.

By the way I only have one active Beta reader and if anyone else wants to be one give me a holler at itmonster@hotmail.com.

Revised 1/22/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 25

Storm of Torment

Part 2

“Finally I’ve really been looking forward to this,” said Ron quite excited after a minute.

“Looking forward to what,” asked Harry?

“There’s a shop I’ve wanted to go into for the longest time,” answered Ron, then his ears redden as he finished with, “Bill’s gone there a few times… but I always had to wait outside… the door won’t open for me… he always gets something for a girl there and they always like it… there’s a sign that’s said before that I have to be at least fifteen…and so now’s my chance… and yours too.”

“What kind of shop is it,” asked Harry, his curiosity peeking?

Ron shrugged his shoulders as he responded, “We’re going to find out.”

And through the streets of Diagon Alley they went with Ron leading the way.

Elsewhere in a small shop Ginny had insisted upon going, Hermione looked around as Rela and Ginny went directly to a section in the back. Hermione spotted a display case full of different bottles of potions. Looking closer, she found that many of them were love potions.

“Have an eye on chap do we,” said a lady suddenly behind the case, “I don’t think you’d need it… but never hurts to have a little edge?”

Hermione redden suddenly and a thought came to mind.

“Aren’t love potions suppose to be illegal,” asked Hermione

The lady behind the case gave Hermione a smile and answered, “Only to an extent… if the potion is heavily deluded like Muggle perfumes… its okay… heavier purified versions are allowed only for married couples… then there are the tailored versions… mind you those are allowed only in the case that a relationship is clearly defined… otherwise it just depends on the situation… but any shop that legally sells love potions has a license and their bottles clearly marked to identify from what shop it came.”

Hermione listened to the woman but only one thing stuck in her mind.

“What do you mean by tailored versions, “inquired Hermione?

The lady’s smile broaden and she gave Hermione a peering look as she answered, “Love potions… that a girl like you… or even a boy… can wear like a perfume and its ‘tailored’ to affect only one particular person. Do you have a boy you’d like to have paying more attention to you? Mind you I said there has to be a definite relationship before you can use it legally.”

Hermione knew her body was pushing the limits on how far her face could redden but she continued, remembering something that happened before and what Daken had said.

“Can any love potion be tailored,” pressed Hermione?

Now the smile altered to devious as one eyebrow raised and she answered, “Just about… is there one you’re specifying?”

Hermione hesitated before responding with,” Aphrodite’s Kiss?”

The lady’s response was not what Hermione expected. Rather than make a judgment to a very illegal potion she became even more interested.

“And how did you get that?” whispered the woman most interestedly, “I’ve been trying to get a license for ages.”

“I don’t actually have it,” hastily added Hermione, “I’m a student at Hogwarts… and the potion was used earlier in the term… but it only affected one boy. So I was curious to know how a powerful potion like that could be so controlled.”

If possible the woman’s curiosity grew as she came around the case and stood closely to Hermione.

“I’d like to know who the unfortunate boy was… believe me from what I know falling prey to a potion like that can be disastrous,” whispered the woman, “Once the boy is exposed… the girl usually has long lasting control over him… she just needs to seal it with a kiss… hence Aphrodite’s Kiss.”

Hermione thought fast and remembered that Cho had tried to kiss Harry in the Great Hall regardless of who saw. Then in the potions class, she tried to get Harry to kiss her. Hermione remembered how Harry had fought it but she wondered what snapped him out of it and into that enraged vampire self.

“It didn’t work… well actually it almost did but Harry… I mean the boy resisted it,” answered Hermione, “But I still want to know how she could make it affect only him… there was another boy there but it didn’t anything to him.”

Hermione had said Harry’s name and in almost doing so the woman had stared, almost hungrily like Lavender at impending gossip, to hear the whole name.

“Well blood is how you do it,” said the woman in an odd knowing manner, “Muggles call it pheromones… and since they’re in the blood… add a few drops… plus an ingredient or two… and you have a love potion ready for just one boy… a potential slave to your whims.”

Hermione began thinking suddenly and wondering how did Cho get any of Harry’s blood to do that.

“I might also add that considering it was the Aphrodite’s Kiss,” added the woman, “That girl must have been quite something with potions because powerful ones like that is meant more for larger numbers than one… it takes great skill to limited that to just one boy.”

Hermione didn’t get a chance to ask further as Rela and Ginny arrived, ready with purchases and Hermione made a hasty grab for a hair potion she saw earlier. The girls purchased their items and left, all the while the woman Hermione had spoken to watched them leave.

“Melinda, “said the woman as she walked towards a back room, “What was the name of that professor… the one at Hogwarts… he sent us a dried potion to test remember?”

Another woman appeared and she answered, “Snape… Severus Snape. Why did you want to know, Nina?”

“Because Hermione Granger was just here… the same one from his letter,” added Nina, the woman Hermione had spoken too, “And considering the name she almost said… I’d turn my hair pink for a week if it wasn’t Harry Potter she as talking about.”

“You think that’s the boy who Snape said resisted… he never said a name,” inquired Melinda quickly.

“A person like Harry Potter… I’m not surprised it wasn’t said,” giggled Nina, “I’d love to know how he resisted it… or should I say who for? It would take a strong will to resist it.”

Melinda and Nina just gave each other look and smiled knowingly.

Meanwhile the boys had arrived at Ron’s desired location. At first Harry was a bit confused; it was dingy building that was lopsided. The stone along with the walk way looked as though they hadn’t been tended to in years. The windows were covered and the only marking was a relatively new looking plaque by the door that had the name Binkins engraved on it.

Harry was about to inquire but Ron looked excited and stepped up to the door. He took hold of the door and a ding sounded, Ron looked even happier and opened the door calling for Harry to hurry up.

Harry walked forward and reached for the door when it slammed shut. He stood on the landing apprehensive when a voice above him said in a very curt tone, “You must be at least fifteen years of age to enter. If you are the door will open.”

Harry gripped the handle and felt something prick at his hand. Before he decided to let go, a ding sounded again and the door swung loose in his hand. With that Harry stepped in to find Ron, his ears burning red.

As if the front part hadn’t confusing enough, it was even stranger inside. The shop it-self was mainly dark but all the items were lit it up by a source of light shining directly from the ceiling, illuminating only the area in which the items lay. There were odd garments displayed in some places. Shelves with books titled in strange characters. Bottles with bright substances lined one wall, some even seem to glow. Flowers Harry had never seen before nor looked familiar in any way were displayed in case. Every where there things he had never seen and wondered what the draw to this place was. Thank fully more normal items were also in the shop. Things like specially made quills and ink jars. More normally looking blouses and skirts as well as robes that had glittered or twinkling spots on them. It was a mish mash of items, the kind that seemed to bring the reddening to their faces and the kind that seemed to be found in a normal shop.

“They look a bit too young,” said a girl’s voice sweetly.

Harry looked and saw someone in one of the dark areas near him. All he could see was a figure of what appeared to be a girl, taller than him.

“For them the bell has rung,” said another girl’s voice, just as sweet but with a higher pitch.

Harry saw another similar figure by Ron now.

Harry found him-self preparing to reach for his wand as pressure around his temples built, like something trying to reach into his head.

“This one knows what he wants, “said the one closest to Harry, “But is still confused.”

Harry looked at her again and saw she was a little shorter than him with hair past the shoulders. Harry blinked suddenly as he distinctly remembered that she had been taller a moment ago.

“This one likes a petite and blonde,” said the one by Ron and now she was Ron’s height with hair down to her waist, “With gifts he does not abuse.”

“They’re changing,” whispered Harry surprised.

Ron whispered back, “I think they’re something like Metamorpheguses… Daken said something about one he met before… they change their appearance at will.”

“Little details are all I can find,” said the one next Harry suddenly, “But she has hair not too long.”

“His hides her nature,” spoke the other, “But has done no wrong.”

Harry again whispered to Ron, asking, “Why are they talking in rhymes?”

Ron only shook his head, not knowing why.

“Lu… Nu… that’s enough,” announced a witch from up front, “This is their first time here and we don’t want to scare them off… I think they’re here for simpler gifts… this time anyways.”

The one by Ron turn to walk away but hesitated as the other by Harry remained.

“What’s the matter Lu,” asked the woman up front?

“His mind is too strong, “answered the strange girl now identified as Lu,” The female is still unclear.”

Harry didn’t find her words very enjoyable.

“He has a brother we know,” stated the other, apparently named Nu, “Before he has brought you near.”

“Again I wish to play,” stated Lu sweetly but quite strongly.

In an airy manner, Nu also stated, “Between both we need a day.”

“Girls, “again spoke the woman up front, much more serious now, “I said that was enough.”

Without further word, the two strange girls walked away. They passed under a light and in that moment from behind they looked exactly like Hermione and Rela. A glance at Ron showed he was thinking the same thing.

“They were reading our minds.” whispered Harry.

“And changing into the girls,” whispered Ron in return.

“Sorry for the overwhelming welcome,” said the woman,” Come up here so I can get a better look at you two.”

They walked up to the woman at a counter with shelves behind it displaying another set of mix items.

“Well given that you two are only fifteen,” said the woman as they came to stop in front of the counter, “I’ll guess that my main stock is a bit too early for you two right now.”

The woman laughed and the boys tried to look natural while aware of the strange girls still in the depths of store looking at them.

“I’m known as Binkins… like the sign out front,” stated Binkins, “Let me start by saying our policy. First off, we don’t exactly advertise our-selves. We’re known by word of mouth among men. Second, regardless of your impressions; let me tell you now we don’t cater to anything of a behind-the-scenes nature. Our market is the clueless crowd such as young men like your-selves looking to get a gift that says just what they want to a young lady… I like to think of my-self as a romantic… lastly and importantly anything said, heard or anyone seen here remains a secret. Break any of those rules to our policy and you’ll never set foot in here again. I have frequent customers that require discretion as I‘m sure you would want the same. ”

Harry started to feel more comfortable now, his tensions eased as Binkins spoke that a place that seemed rather untamed wasn’t as wild as it appeared to be.

“I’d say look around but again I think you’re a tad young for that now… even if you did pass the age spell,” suggested Binkins, “So why don’t we try the best method most men use here? You tell me about the girls, how you feel about them and I’m pretty sure I can come up with something that suits… I haven’t had a complaint yet so I’d say my track record is pretty good… lets start with you, Bill’s brother.”

Binkins looked at Ron who looked blankly back.

“Just describe her as you see her,” urged Binkins gently, “Then what you feel when you see or think of her… names are not needed.”

Harry watched Ron swallow and hesitate for a moment.

“Well she’s pretty… really gentle…likes animals, mostly birds especially hawks,” started Ron but as he started his eyes went distance and he spoke more comfortably, “Her voice is like music to me… every time I see her… its like for the first time… and I wonder if its just a dream for second… she’s really sensitive… always worried about how people react to her… scared they’ll find out she’s a Whasperor… but she’s never done anything to me… and I’ve told her it doesn’t bother me… and kissing her has been.”

Before the last comment was finished, a loud pop sounded and Ron jumped as if awakened. Binkins had an odd look to her face, a mixture of amusement, thoughtfulness and also surprise.

“A Whasperor huh,” said Binkins, writing something on a piece of parchment, “That’s quite something original... she has a right to be worried about reactions… and already you know this of her… well this calls for something particular.”

Ron went instantly red as his eyes widened while he stuttered, “Did… did… did I say… that out loud?”

Binkins gave Ron an encouraging smile s she replied, “Believe me, I couldn’t stay in businesses if I let what was said in these walls out… no its policy that anything said here stays here… clearly you both can see things can get very personal.”

She finished writing her note then twirled her wand as she look with great enthusiasm at Harry. One of the two girls from before took a few steps closer but a quick shaking of a Binkins head sent her back.

“Oh my turn… well she’s smart… not a spell or anything hasn’t been able to do yet,” began Harry but he wasn’t finding things to comfortable yet, “She’s always worried about everything I do… I kind of get in trouble a lot… knows the rules really well… she’s a Gryffindor prefect at Hogwarts.”

Harry thought this would come as easy as it had done for Ron especially as he smelled a fragrance reach his nose and his mind seemed to relax a little but not by much.

Harry tried to think of something when a whisper reached his ears.

“He is strong… it doesn’t have any effect on him,” whispered Binkins in surprise to her-self.

“What doesn’t,” snapped Harry, looking up, even Ron was confused?

It may have been a first time in a long time for Binkins, but her face redden now with surprise, responding with, “Well I use a fragrance that… relaxes someone whose nervous like your-selves… makes it easier for you to say things… kind of like Veritaserum... a truth potion… but mine’s a perfume so it effects only last a few minutes.”

One of the two girls stepped forward again, “Can I play with him now?”

“Why does she keeping saying that,” inquired Harry annoyed, the situation beginning to bother him?

“It’s not how it sounds,” answered Binkins humorously, “Lu and Nu are two… sisters… I found one day while traveling… the ministry isn’t officially aware of them… they’re able to probe minds... I brought them here and sort of raised them, seeing as I have no children and they were alone… but they’ve come to enjoy being able to probe the minds of my customers and change their form … quite useful when picking out certain items… anyways it just fun for them… your brother Bill is popular with them… yes I can recognize the red hair and similar tastes… he’s pretty good at hiding the female relation he has currently … so Lu and Nu enjoy spending a lot time trying to find out.”

“But neither them nor your perfume works on me,” said Harry, a slight disappointment to his voice.

“No,” replied Binkins, “You must have a strong will… very strong… so we’ll just use the old fashion way.”

Harry raised an eyebrow to her but Binkins just smiled before adding, “Its simple… just picture her and say whatever comes to mind.”

Harry closed his eyes and tried to think of Hermione. Surprisingly enough the image of her walking from Arithmacy class came to mind.

“She’s beautiful… it took me so long to realize it… I can’t stop looking at her now, “began Harry feeling him-self relax naturally, “Every part of her is fascinating… its something to see her reading by the fire… even moonlight gleams off her… and her eyes are always full of concern and wonder… I like her touch the most… I don’t know how to describe it… its so comforting… even when I feel out of control… and I have been lately… feeling her hand on my face just seems to stop everything.”

The pop came again and Harry found he had his own hand on his face, remembering her touch and suddenly Harry found him-self wanting Hermione back as well as very disturbed at how he had treated her earlier.

When he looked up, Binkins was writing on her parchment again with a smile.

“Alright,” announced Binkins, “You too sit tight and I’ll be right back.”

They didn’t have to wait long as Binkins stepped into a back room and came back with three plain unmarked boxes.

“Do me a favor,” said Binkins approaching the counter and putting one of the boxes in a sack, “Give this to Bill, its his order placed a while ago… tell him to stop by I’d love to know about this girl… something about you Weasley boys and unique girls is very interesting… and these are for you two.”

She opened the other two boxes to show what was in them. Ron was surprised as Harry was when they looked into them.

“Four sickles a piece,” stated Binkins, “Bill’s is already paid for.”

They paid the woman and she bagged them. As they were about to walk away, Harry looked at two girls keeping themselves in the dark.

“How about next time,” asked Harry?

“Do make it sometime soon, “said the one Harry was sure to be Lu.

“Your fancies we’ll help swoon,” added the other that had to be Nu.

With that Harry and Ron stepped back into the street, into the world they better understood than that shop.

“I don’t think we should talk much about that,” said Ron humorously.

Harry nodded and added, “No but it should be more interesting next time do you think?”

Ron smirked rather than answered but he did comment about making Bill keenly aware that Ron knew his secret with girls.

In another area of Diagon Alley, Ginny, Rela and Hermione were walking away from a shop having just been in.

“Do you really think Ron will like this,” asked Rela looking into her bag, questioningly?

“Well I would think you’d know my brother better than me considering you two,” answered Ginny, watching Rela redden, “But yes… I know very well he’ll like it.”

“What did you get Hermione,” asked Ginny?

Rather than say Hermione opened her bag and showed its contents.

“Wow,” said Ginny, “I wouldn’t have thought of that. You and Harry must be getting really close now.”

Hermione thought a second and decided there was something she had better clear up.

“Ginny,” started Hermione, receiving a hum of recognition from Ginny who was glancing into a shop window, “Don’t you have… well have feelings for Harry?”

Ginny stopped and turned to look at Hermione, reddening slightly as she thought to her-self for a moment.

“Yes and no,” answered Ginny, explaining further with, “I like him… I don’t see how any girl wouldn’t… but I had a fancy for Harry Potter the Boy Who Lived… not Harry.”

Hermione stared at Ginny with raised eyebrows, not understanding her answer.

“Look,” continued Ginny, “Being Muggle born your primary schooling was different… Muggles didn’t know what happen… but I know you’ve read the history books… but there’s a difference to what was printed and what was said.”

Hermione was about to inquire when Rela spoke up.

“She’s right,” added Rela, “Even in Germany, my teachers all made Harry out to be some kind of savior… maybe even something of comparison to Merlin.”

“After a while you get to think that Harry can part oceans and apparate to the moon or something, “also added Ginny, “That’s why the first years are always so amazed to meet him… why I was amazed to have him at the house the first time… it was hard to believe at first that Ron even shared a dorm with him… of course these last few years events have only added to it… stopping a wizard from getting the great Sorcerer’s stone… taking down a troll… killing a Muggle attacking basilisk single handily… not to mention reveal that Lockhart was a fake… and all that was the first two years.”

“Of course people are just quick to think Harry’s doing it all,” interject Rela quickly, “They don’t want to recognize that you or Ron have been involved all along… but that’s like the history of Godric Gryffindor… always what he did… no mention of the people who helped him… they just see you as his friends.”

“Well we should be meeting up with the boys soon,” said Hermione changing the subject.

She didn’t want to talk about it anymore and ruin the festive day but her mind continued to dwell, remembering how people acted around Harry so much. It was true what they thought of him as different than who he really was. He didn’t know how to make them understand it which must be part of why he despises the gifts that were sent and may still be coming. Then remembered she still had the deposit notes from Gringotts bank and that she was going to have to tell Harry sooner or later. As soon as she thought that, a horrible thought came to mine.

- Oh no, - thought Hermione suddenly, glancing into a shop window, - We have to find Harry and Ron soon.-

“Hermione” spoke up Ginny, her cheeks flushing slightly, “When Harry goes to get those socks he mentioned for Dobby… do you think there’ll be any shops around that sell skirts?”

“Why not go to Madam Malkin’s,” replied Hermione?

“Well,” answered Ginny, flushing a bit more, “I want to get a Muggle skirt… they’re shorter than what witches normally where.”

Hermione stared at her a second, puzzled as to what Ginny would want with Muggle clothes, especially a short skirt. She wondered until Ginny’s nervous look set into Hermione mind what Ginny was up to.

“Don’t tell your mum,” agreed Hermione, “But I’m sure there will be a place nearby.”

Ginny smiled, more deviously than happily and Rela stared at the two of them, shocked at the masterminding that was occurring.

After that Hermione tried to hurry them along as middle afternoon was setting and she wanted to find Harry before he found out in a bad why he had deposit notes.

The two boys had stopped to get apples covered in hot caramel on sticks as they continued on. They started to pass the Quidditch shop when a look from Ron received a nod from Harry. Both boys were unable to speak at that moment as caramel kept their mouths stuck. A worker in the shop asked them to finish their apples first. So just outside the door they gobbled down as much as their mouths would hold before tossing the cores and stick into a bin nearby.

Their mouths still sticking from all the caramel they silently agreed to split up. Harry wandered the fair size shop amongst many playful children rushing about and excited fans gathering around a table of collectibles from different teams. Harry had barely noticed a few signed photos with very heavy prices on the table when someone called out to him.

“Hey there,” spoke a tall man, walking towards Harry, dressed mostly in orange robes, “You’re Harry Potter aren’t you… the Seeker for Hogwarts Gryffindor team right?”

A quick look as he approached, Harry recognized the man but not sure how. Rather than answer he just nodded in response.

“Oh sorry there,” he added cheerily, “Should introduce my-self… I’m Thomas… Thomas McBannon… I’m a chaser for the Chudley Cannons… not as popular as Roy though… he’s the Keeper.”

Now the recognition came into play as Harry remembered his picture on one of the many posters in Ron’s room.

“I’d hate to sound like such a prat,” continued Thomas, “But I’d love to get an autograph or a picture from you… what with you being the youngest Quidditch player in a century and all… and I understand you barely touched a broom before you were on the team… mind you some of us thought it was just the fame but you proved otherwise.”

Harry just stared at him and the sudden thought of signing autograph cards or books like Lockhart didn’t give him any exuberance

“Well,” said Harry warily, “I never knew much about Quidditch before a few years ago… and I live with Muggles… so I don’t get to do much with the sport besides school… and… well… I’m not too sure about signing pictures and stuff.”

Expecting great disappointment, Thomas surprised Harry with a smile and replied, “That’s okay… good idea not to let you-self get a big head… you should see what its done to Roy… so damn annoying all the time… well it was a treat just meeting you.”

As the Quidditch player left, the front door opened allowing a brisk breeze to blow in and pass Harry. A sudden thought came to mind as Harry looked out the corner of his eye.

Suddenly wondering if it was right, another thought came to mind.

They’re not being forced into it…

Harry dwelled on the thought for a moment more before calling out, “Wait! I changed my mind!”

Thomas turned around and took a few steps back towards Harry, a curious but hopeful expression on his face.

“I don’t like the whole celebrity thing,” bargained Harry, “But how about a trade?”

A short while later, Harry and Ron stepped from the Quidditch shop. Ron had purchased an item he would not tell of but Harry in turn stayed quiet about his meeting with Thomas McBannon at least for while.

As they stepped into the street, the door to the shop opened again and Thomas, “Oy Harry! I’ll come to one of your games sometime, I promise!”

Ron stared at the man before turning to Harry, “That… that was Thomas McBannon, the lead Chaser for the Chudley Cannons. Bloody hell everything happens to you Harry.”

“Yeah its grand,” replied Harry paused in stride for a moment before adding,” Everything happens to me alright.”

Ron wasn’t able to respond as a few minutes later they heard their names called out. Ron and Harry turned to see the girls they had arrived with coming up the street. Hermione looked slightly worried then became relieved when see saw Harry, looking a bit cold from the walking in Diagon Alley but quite calm as well.

“What have you two been eating,” snapped Ginny playfully, sniffing, looking at Ron, “It smells sweet?”

“We’ve been had mate,” said Ron.

“Yep,” agreed Harry, “Guess we should tell them we spoiled our appetites.”

“You two had those caramel apples,” snapped Ginny, not as playful but with no insult, “You know I love those… how could eat them and not wait for us?”

“We were hungry,” replied Ron with a smile to Harry?

Ginny crossed her arms commenting something about boys being selfish.

“It’s just down the way,” said Harry, “We could get some more.”

Ginny shook her head, replying, “Better not in my case… besides I have something else I’d rather get.”

Ron looked at his sister and asked, “What?”

She just smiled and replied, “It’s personal so never you mind.”

Ron just looked at Harry and shrugged.

They began to walk away while Rela looked ready to laugh but was trying to stop it. Ron tried to find out what was so funny and Ginny said nothing. Harry didn’t think it was something he need know until Hermione leaned to and whispered into his ear. At once Harry began snickering and Hermione found her-self soothed at that. Now Ron was getting flustered to know the joke but no one would tell him. Harry had decided he wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that Ginny was making a fuss over nothing because the girls had already gotten caramel apples earlier.

Before going out to the street of the Muggle world, Hermione insisted that they get a table at the Leaky Caldron and warm up a bit before continuing. Tom brought them a jug of hot chocolate and a tray of mugs, compliments from the establishment. After a few minutes, Harry excused him-self and Hermione seized her chance to ask Ron a question.

“So what did you two run into that was strange,” asked Hermione, trying to sound casual and avoid any argument?

To her surprise, Ron suddenly tensed up with a shocked look to his face.

He gave a quick glance to Rela before asking in return, “Did Harry tell you something about us finding something strange?”

“No,” said Hermione and then she explained, pulling the deposit notes from her pocket, “I just wondered if Harry got mad about seeing stuff being sold with his name on it in some way.”

“As far as I know Harry never came across anything,” answered Ron, “But that explains what I saw in the Quidditch shop.”

“What was it,” pressed Hermione?

“You know those armlets we where,” answered Ron, receiving a nod from Hermione, “Well they had a whole stack of them and there was a sign that said they were the kind worn by Harry Potter in Quidditch… I saw some kids see them and snatch a couple… I never heard of Harry endorsing anything, so I suspect it some stupid thing they were doing to sell them.”

“Well you’re half right,” said Hermione, showing everyone the bank notes and taking a quick minute to explain about them and how she knew about how he was getting them.

“So Dobby just destroys all the mail he gets,” laughed Ron idly, “At least that explains the way Gringotts was acting… Harry bringing in business, I thought that was funny considering he hadn’t been there in over a year.”

“Yeah I saw these glass spheres in a shop window and I remembered he didn’t know about it all yet,” added Hermione, “They’re the size of Remembralls but they glow blue when you hold them… they’re a replica of the Colossus Orb from the museum.”

“Why did you look so tense when Hermione asked you about all that,” asked Ginny suspiciously?

Ron just looked at her but said nothing.

“Where did you go or rather where did you take Harry,” asked Ginny even more suspicious?

“As you said… never you mind,” replied Ron curtly before he suddenly asked, “Harry’s sure taking his time?”

Ron stood up suddenly and Hermione began looking around frantically. A minute later, Harry emerged from a corridor in the back.

As he approached the table, Ron, without thinking, interrogatingly asked, “Where did you go?”

Harry stood there and replied quietly, “The loo… then I ran into Lavender.”

At that Ron’s ears redden but Hermione asked quietly, “Lavender?”

There was as light tremble to the room but Tom yelled something about a Muggle truck.

“Yeah she was going off about something to do with tarot cards… I wasn’t really listening,” answered Harry shrugging, “Then she wanted to know who I was here with… so I said all of you and she didn’t seem too happy about that… so off to the outside then for one more stop?”

Ron couldn’t help but notice a smile on Hermione’s face as they all stood up, thanking Tom for the hot chocolate and they were off to the street of muggle shops.

It was new experience for Rela as she saw the cars and street lights. She and Ron were into conversation about the many items, Hermione corrected a few terminologies for them. Ginny was looking really excited, Harry looked around. They had walked down the streets for a few minutes when Harry spotted a place. The windows displayed different kinds of muggle clothes, both male and female. Ginny whispered something to Hermione and she received a nod, making Ginny even more excited.

They walked in and Harry suddenly wondered how it would look for a group of kids their age come in with cloaks instead of coats and not an adult around, then he realized he didn’t care. He headed for a spot where a sign said socks and Ginny said something to Ron about staying with Harry while she dragged Rela with her and followed Hermione in another direction.

After a few minutes, along with questions from Ron about things like tuxedos and wallets, they went to a counter with an assortment of socks. The sales clerk gave them a funny look as the socks were an assortment of colors and sizes.

Harry interpreted the clerk’s question and answered with, “I have a friend with an unusual liking for socks.”

The clerk just raised her eye brows in understanding, asking “Cash or account?”

“Cash,” replied Harry.

“That will be sixteen pounds even,” said the clerk.

Harry counted out sixteen pounds and took the receipt and bag from the clerk.

“Maybe we should tell her it’s for a little green creature,” whispered Ron, snickering?

“We’d be committed,” laughed Harry.

They had taken a few more steps towards the door when a clearing of a throat caught their attention. They stopped to see Hermione standing with Ginny, holding a bag while very satisfied, and Rela looking at them.

“Planning to leave without us,” asked Hermione, her tone odd?

Harry and Ron just shrugged their shoulders. Hermione looked at the two at shook her head muttering something to her-self as they all left. Ron tried to ask Ginny what she had but Ginny wasn’t even recognizing his question and put the item into her bag.

They were nearly back at the Leaky Cauldron when Ron stopped, “Let’s go in here for a second.”

They went into a small store. It didn’t seem to be anything special but a thrift store baring a multitude of things from foods to small appliances. Harry suddenly couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity at the moment. Rela and Ginny became curious about the magazines on a book shelf, so Hermione stayed with them and Ron dragged Harry to a back area where some appliances lay.

He was asking Harry about a blender’s purpose when a loud slap could be heard along with a thud and some nasty cursing. Ron and Harry turned quick and sprinted back to the front of the store to be welcomed to the most unexpected of sites. A very heavy set boy was starting to get off the floor, holding his face while very angry. Rela had her hand held by the other, apparently having just slapped the boy.

“I don’t date outside my own species and I am most certainly not that kind of girl,” said Rela, quite nastily, almost to the point of shouting, “You had better get your manners checked, you bloated oaf.”

As Ron and Harry got closer, they looked on in surprised.

“Dudley,” said Harry?

Dudley, Harry’s spoiled cousin, turned to stare in surprise at Harry.

“What are you doing here,” replied Dudley quite nastily, “Aren’t you suppose to be at that freak place or did you finally get kicked out?”

Hearing the boy’s name, Ginny and Hermione became instantly disgusted considering this was the first time that had met Dudley.

“Hate to break it to you dolt,” snapped Ginny, “But we all are from that freak school, including the girl you just passed at.”

“I should have known there was something wrong with you,” sneered Dudley at Rela.

“Have you considered that there’s five freaks here,” growled Ron, his knuckles cracking as his hands became fists, “And only one fat blighter… that’s you by the way.”

Dudley’s eyes widen as he realized Ron’s words and stumbled out, “You can’t… you can’t do that stuff… not unless you’re at that school… so I’m… I’m not afraid.”

“You’d be surprise what we can get away with, “replied Ginny withdrawing her wand anyways and pointed it at Dudley, adding, “When there are no witnesses.”

Dudley needed a nappy as he looked ready to wet him-self and as much as Harry was enjoying this, he knew Ginny wasn’t going to do anything and if so, it would just be trouble they didn’t need.

“Okay that’s enough,” said Harry, walking towards Dudley, surprising everyone, “Stop it Ginny. It’ll just be trouble no matter what.”

The jingle of a bell rung as the door to the store opened but Harry continued on to Dudley, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, handing it to Dudley.

“Here,” said Harry, “Your nose is beginning to bleed and Aunt Petunia will have a conniption if you get blood on your shirt.”

Dudley began to reach for the handkerchief when a rude voice interrupted bellowing, “What the devil is this?”

Dudley turned and everyone looked at large stocky man with a terrible mustache stood there. He instantly rounded on Harry.

“What the bloodied hell do you think you’re doing here in place for normal people,” shouted Vernon?

“Well,” started Hermione but Vernon cut her off when he saw his son’s face.

“You,” he snarled, “How dare you… we take you in and this is what you do?”

Before anything else was said, he shoved Harry hard. Harry was unprepared for the sudden move and fell backward, stumbling. Ron moved to grab Harry but he missed as he lost his footing completely. Hermione watched, unable to do anything, as the scene seemed to play out slowly. Harry lost his footing, falling backward then slamming the back of his head into the glass door of a freezer, cracking the glass. Harry went limp and silent, Hermione almost screamed, Rela moved quick and Ginny stood shocked. Ron however reacted very differently.

A crack sounded and Vernon was suddenly on one knee. Ron had him in his grips and the temperature of the room shot up instantly. Hermione moved to Harry, having to grab her skirt quickly as she passed a vent as scalding hot air was blasting out.

“You had better hope he’s okay,” shouted Ron, his words darker than they had ever heard him speak, “Or I guarantee you’ll know what its like to be a pig on spit!”

The clerk came to their aid with a first aid kit, beginning to look Harry over.

The ice in the freezer melted in seconds after that, filling the bottom with a pool of water. The lights flicker as some bulbs fell from their sockets, the glass cracking. The room kept getting hotter; Hermione could feel her clothes soaking with sweat very quickly. The air in the room became hard to breathe. Vernon was trying to pull at Ron’s arms but the red haired boy’s strange strength held strong, not even budging from the man’s pulls. Ginny watched as Vernon’s cufflinks fell from his sleeves to the floor as melted globs of cheap metal impersonating gold. His face was reddening, burning from being exposed to something hot.

Dudley stood, unmoved from his spot and actually did wet him-self.

“Ron,” shouted Rela suddenly terrified, “He‘s alright… just knocked out.”

As comforting as that should have been; rather Ron seemed disappointed but he didn’t let go of Vernon.

“If you ever… ever touch him… even breathe on him again,” snarled Ron, his voice a tone that didn’t sound human, Hermione glanced quickly to see Ron’s eyes brightly glowing orange, “I will personally rip you apart… piece by damn piece… and feed you, barbecued, to a three headed beast dog.”

“Ron you need to stop,” called out Rela.

“Or better yet,” growled Ron, his glowing eyes glaring, “Why wait until then… maybe I should just get rid of you now.”

“Don’t even consider it,” shouted Rela forcefully, Hermione just noticed brightness to her eyes, “Do that and you’re worse than him. Do you want Harry to wake up and find out his best friend killed a defenseless Muggle?””

Ron was quiet, possibly contemplating but eventually he let go of Vernon and turned slowly away. He started to walk back to them but stopped to give Dudley a glare and a piece of advice.

“Girls aren’t toys for a spoil bastard like you,” growled Ron, “Now get that ass and your-self out of here.”

The door open and Dursleys left as another group came in. A woman and her son, who instantly recognized the group, came in.

“Ron, Hermione, Ginny what’s going on,” said a boy coming closer to them, “Dad what happened? Mum its Harry!”

Hermione looked straight in the face of Seamus Finnegan, one the boys in Harry’s dorm.

The man, who had been helping them, now identified to be Seamus’s father looked to his wife and replied with, “Vernon and his boy were here… and apparently they’re this boy’s family.”

Seamus looked and shockingly asked, “Those people are Harry’s family.”

“No,” snapped Ron, dangerously, “There just his relatives and that’s it.”

“Harry Potter,” questioned the woman coming closer, withdrawing her wand?

The man just shook his head and the woman looked suddenly reviled by some thought.

“Is he okay,” she asked?

“Just a mild concussion if anything,” replied her husband, “He’s coming to but he’ll be a bit groggy. He should see a doctor.”

“Those people have brought him here before,” said Seamus’s mother, “I thought I recognized him before. Well it would seem their manners haven’t gotten any better.”

“It wasn’t Harry’s fault,” spoke Hermione, “All he did was offer his cousin a handkerchief for his nose and his uncle went off on him.”

Seamus’s mother held up her hand, stopping Hermione, “Believe me I don’t need an explanation considering them. Now you lot take Harry and get going. It won’t be much longer before the ministry shows and I’ll get this all cleared up.”

Ron picked up Harry who was beginning to wake up but slowly. Hermione for the first time took a good look around. If it wasn’t melted, charred in some way or shattered then it was on fire. Some t-shirts baring a soft drink logo were one of the many items lying on the floor burning with open flame.

- How did Ron do that, - thought Hermione to her-self?

A second later Ron shoved a stone into Hermione’s hand and glared at her. It wasn’t much for Hermione to guess what Ron was thinking. So while Ron steady Harry. She put his finger on the stone and let everyone gather around before activating it.

A quick pulling sensation along with a moment of everything being black and they were back in the living room. Ron sat Harry on the couch as he was waking more and more, Ginny ran off to find her mother and Ron just stood by seething. Rela looked on the verge of tears and Hermione calmed her-self as Harry became more and more alert. Daken came down the stairs a minute later along with Ginny as she apparently couldn’t find her mother.

Daken leaned down to Harry and pushed up his eye lids to peer into his eyes. Harry pushed his hand away and Daken just smiled.

“He’ll be fine,” spoke up Daken, “Not even a concussion… just got knocked out.”

“But Seamus’s dad said,” started Ginny before Daken gave her a knowing look.

“Didn’t we go over this last night?” questioned Daken, “Side effects… looks like he’s got endurance as one of them… apparently both against magic and physical strikes… give him a few more minutes and all he’ll have his a headache.”

Unable to hold back any more, Rela covered her face, bursting into tears and amazingly Ron’s temper vanished.

“This is entirely my fault,” sobbed Rela, “I wasn’t paying attention… I got too comfortable and when that boy started to speak to me… I heard his intentions and… and I… I just reacted.”

“Right thing when it comes to that load of dung,” added Ginny viciously.

Rela wasn’t comforted but sobbed out, “You were right Ron… I should’ve just told everyone I’m a Whasperor… and get it over with… instead of trying to pretend I was something else.”

“A Whasperor,” commented Hermione, “I thought you were a clever Veela but Whasperor makes more sense now… that must be helpful.”

Rela stopped crying and looked at Hermione completely puzzled.

“What does it matter?” added Hermione, “You’re half witch and half Whasperor right? I knew when I saw you’re eyes but again, I originally thought Veela. So what’s the problem?”

“Whasperors aren’t exactly welcomed that easily because of their abilities,” quietly answered Ron, “It’s why she transferred here from Germany… the school there didn’t quite want to let her back for the next year.”

Rela looked ready to start crying again but she didn’t get the chance.

“So what,” said an unexpected voice, “It not like she’s a basilisk or something?”

Harry had become even more alert now, shaking his head and keeping his eyes open. Looking mostly at Rela, blinking constantly and holding a hand to his head.

“Lets see, “said Harry, somewhat annoyed but for good reason, his voice rising as he spoke, “We’re friends with two half giants, a centaur, a half Veela, a were wolf, an escaped Azkaban prisoner, a house elf and apparently a three headed dog… and we’ve dealt with murders, snakes, giant spiders, dangerous chess pieces, crazed Bludgers and dragons… of course lets not forget everyone in this room… is a mix of vampires, elementals and now a Whasperor… so believe me unless you shed your skin and become some giant five headed, fire breathing thing… then whatever a Whasperor is no big deal… now if that’s cleared will someone tell me what the hell happened!”

Ginny and Hermione went into a quick explanation of what had happened. The way the room had acted and Ron’s terrifying actions against the Dursleys’

Rather than be upset Harry stared blankly then began laughing hysterically, surprising everyone even Daken a bit. However Rela still had an issue with it.

“Your injury was still all my fault… I slapped your cousin,” quietly stated Rela, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah that was great,” laughed Harry, “I wish I could have seen you actually do it… he’s not use to being told no.”

“Well your uncle might not have,” started Rela but Harry cut in.

“It doesn’t matter… he would’ve just had to come up with another reason to be that way,” interrupted Harry, his humored tone steadying to a tone that was too calm, “I think I would have given almost anything to see Dudley wet him-self… I just wish I had the chance to tell Vernon off first… but I’m not too worried, his time will come and I’ll have my say.”

Hermione looked at Ron but no one said anything while Daken just stared at the boy. Harry stood up suddenly, rotating his head, hearing his neck crack and like Daken had said, he was right back to normal.

“I suppose that vampire thing isn’t too bad,” said Harry chuckling.

Rela was wiping her face, she look so much happier than ever and Ron just took a deep relieving breath. Hermione decided she would tell Harry about what happened later but she just stood by watching Harry become more active. Ginny had nabbed all their bags before they had left and she began handing it all back out. Just as she gave the boys their things, it was agreed that they had best put it all away before doing anything else. Ron and Harry turned but stopped when Daken stood in front of them.

“Ladies first,” he said and the girls dashed up the stairs.

But when they were out of site, Daken peered at the two boys, his nose twitching as he seemed to pick up a scent. Then he looked t the bags they held with a strange smile.

“Tell me,” said Daken pausing a moment, “What did you two think of Lu and Nu?”

The boys just stared at him, saying nothing but their expressions told all.

“Lu and Nu have very particular scents… plus Binkins perfume is noticeable… I bet even Ginny can smell it,” explained Daken, “Just remember not to advertise it… can’t let the ladies realize just how clueless we boys are. But I would still like to know how you came to know of it?”

“You know how poplar Bill is… I’d go with him there but he’d leave me outside and wouldn’t tell me anything when I asked … I figured out that every time there was a girl he had an interest in… he’s go to that place and get a gift for them,” answered Ron, “Once I tried to get in but I found out I had to be fifteen… so I’ve waited until now… good timing I guess”

“I’ll guess that Lu and Nu didn’t get a chance to play as they like but I suggest that next time you go there,” suggested Daken, “Let the sisters have a go… you’ll find that if Binkins’ children are happy… you get better results from her personally.”

Harry and Ron just nodded and headed for the stairs.

“Oh by the way,” called out Daken, “An owl post came for you Harry, I put it on your dresser.”

They rushed up the stairs; Ron continued on saying he’d be back in a minute while Harry went into his own room. Setting the items on the bed, Harry found the post Daken spoke of. Opening he read it with curiosity and left the room, back down the stairs.

“What is Harry,” asked Hermione coming out of Ginny’s room as he passed, seeing the letter in Harry’s hand.

“I need to go to the village… the Dungeon actually,” answered Harry, “Neville’s there, I got an owl post from him saying he wants to tell me something important, says he’s going to wait there until evening.”

“What does Neville want to tell you,” came Ron’s from behind, descending the stairs?

Harry shook his head, “He just says it’s important.”

“We’ll all go then,” stated Ron simply, “I’m sure Neville wouldn’t mind a few more friends… probably could use them right about now.”

Harry nodded and they continued down the stairs. At the base, near the front door, Ron handed Hermione and Harry their cloaks as Ginny stepped out from the kitchen with Rela.

“Where are you all going,” asked Ginny suddenly?

Rela gave Ron a funny but slightly hurt look and his ears went red, answering, “Sorry… force of habit… Harry got a post from Neville… he’s at the Dungeon… wants to see Harry… so we were going to go.”

Ron then smiled at Rela and added, “Want to come?”

Strangely Rela perked up, smiling happily and nodded but as Ron looked to Ginny, she had a different answer.

“I’ll stay here,” answered Ginny with an odd happy smile, “And wait for mum.”

Meanwhile Rela rushed forward as Ron presented her cloak and helping to slide it on. Ron opened the door and walked with Rela outside with Hermione following, leaving Harry to close the door. Outside, Hermione waited at the base of the front steps as Harry had chosen to reread the letter before had stepped out.

- I didn’t know Neville lived nearby, - thought Harry, - Must have used a Port key or something. -

“Ready to go,” asked Hermione?

Harry looked up and pocketed the letter before, answering with a nod. Harry stepped out onto the front steps, pulling the door closed behind him. He had almost closed it when Hermione stopped him.

“Wait Harry,” said Hermione walking back up a few steps.

Still holding the handle, the door a few inches from the frame, Harry paused at Hermione’s request as Ron and Rela waited a short distance away.

“Did you forget something,” inquired Harry curiously?

Hermione shook her head and answered, stuttering with, “No… I… I want… I want you… to make me a promise.”

Harry stared at her in growing puzzlement.

“I want you to promise me… to tell us,” she continued, taking another step up, ” Not right away… maybe when we get back to school… but soon.”

“Tell you what,” asked Harry, his tone suspicious?

Hermione bit her lip a second, a quick look of worry came before she answered with hesitation, “We know the basics… you were taken from the maze… to a cemetery… then Voldemort came back… and you were able to escape.”

Hermione’s worried expression received validation as Harry eyes glared.

“We want to help,” added Hermione quickly, “I want to help… but we can’t… unless you let us… we need you to open up to us… tell us everything… those secrets are only going to hurt us… hurt you… believe me I know… I thought I could keep everything with Krum a secret and it would be okay… but you saw what it did to me… and this is doing the same to you… you were there for me when I needed you… even Ron… so lets us be there for you now… let me be there… please don’t keep things away from us anymore.”

Suddenly Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said upon leaving Hogwarts for the Burrow.

Don’t keep things away from them anymore.

Hermione’s expression of worry remained if not grew as she watched Harry’s eyes do a dance of thought.

“Harry it’s just that,” started Hermione again but Harry stopped her.

“Alright,” said Harry suddenly with his gaze averted, “I promise to tell you, Ron and whoever else. Can we just please go?”

“I’m sorry… for rushing you like that,” said Hermione quietly preparing to take a step back,” But I thought if I surprised you… it wouldn’t bother you so quick.”

“No… you deserve to know I guess… you and Ron have been through the thick of it with me,” replied Harry quietly, finally shutting the door behind him.

Harry gazed at the girl in front of him, suddenly and strangely hurt to see her chocolate brown eyes looking at him in worry and maybe even a touch of fear as her hair floated to the side from the winter breezes. A look he didn’t want to see that any more and made it hard to look at her. Thankfully after agreeing to her request, look changed and he found him-self now looking into a beautiful face just inches away, eyes as caring as always if not even more so in some way now. He stepped forward suddenly so that only the distance of breathe separated them, surprising Hermione a little.

“I’m sorry,” announced Harry calmly, “I never should have yelled at you… you didn’t know… I guess I figured if I didn’t say anything… I didn’t have to remember any of it… but the Port key just kind of shot it all back… and I took it out on you… all of you.”

Saying nothing, she just smiled at him in a way Harry wasn’t sure how to comprehend and felt something begin to slowly grip his free hand. Harry looked down to see Hermione’s fingers entwining with his own. She stepped back down the step, gently pulling Harry with her but never said anything about his apology.

“Let’s just go see Neville,” said Hermione simply.

With that said, she led Harry away from the house, through the yard, past the front gate and down the graveled road to the village with Ron and Rela leading the way while not letting go or loosening her grip at any time.

As they left, Daken stood at the window, unnoticed, still watching the Hogwarts students until they were out of site before turning and vanishing into the house interior.

Some time and conversation later, they found them-selves outside the pub known as the Dungeon. Even though he had already been there, Harry still didn’t like the name of the place but thankful the people inside weren’t the kind expected in a dungeon.

Ron held the door open for them all and they entered into a place full of cheer and festive activity, both of which produce a very high volume of sound. Harry had to strain his ears and practically read Ron’s lips when his friend had spotted Neville in the corner at an empty table to him-self. Harry suddenly found that strange as they wormed their way to him, that Neville would be alone like that but figured it must be because the importance of whatever Neville wanted to say.

They had just reached the table and Neville smiled at Harry but gave the rest an unfriendly look. He still and said something but the high volume drowned out his voice. Guessing his words, they took a seat anyways. At first Neville only looked at Harry and gave no attention to the rest. Unfortunately any time any one tried to talk, it was just as pointless as before. Harry was just thinking how to illustrate for everyone to go outside when Anabell came by and set a bowl down in the middle of the table.

It was full of small spongy spheres and they all looked to Anabell in confusion but she just picked up two of them from the bowl and placed them into the inner area of her ears, motioning for them to do the same. Harry wonder if this was some kind of game until after putting the spongy things in his ears, the roaring crowd died down instantly to very low level.

“There now,” said Ana with her heavy Irish accent, “Bet that be a wee better there.”

Harry blinked a second as did his friends at the sudden drop in the level of sound heard. Everything sounded as if it were a normal calm day though looking; one could easily see that things were still quite wild.

Ana inquired abut getting anything for them and Hermione was quick to asked for a jug hot chocolate for them to share. Their order taken, she turned and vanished into the crowd. With Ana gone, Ron was quick to get things going.

“Alright Neville,” started Ron, “What’s up? Why did you want to see us suddenly?”

Neville gave Ron a blank wide eyed look and with surprising nastiness, said, “Actually… I asked for Harry.”

Ron didn’t take to kindly to Neville’s response but he held his temper.

“Why only me,” asked Harry?

Neville looked back to Harry, giving him a wide eyed stare and answered plainly, “Because it’s none of their business.”

Harry glared his eyes at Neville. His thought was simple and that this wasn’t right. Neville was nervous and scared the last time he tried to tell him anything and now Neville just seemed… calm… too calm.

“Hang on,” snapped Ron, “We, not just Harry, saved your rear from those Aurors and we’ve helped you before that. So where do you get the bloodied idea that’s it’s not our business?”

Neville just turned his calm look back to Ron and stated bluntly, with the same nastiness again, “Sod off.”

Ron expression went dark and looked ready to move on Neville but Harry saw from his eye that Hermione agreed this was wrong as she stared at Neville.

Neville’s demeanor hadn’t changed even while Ron looked positively seething to the point of exploding. Harry wanted to say something but before he could Rela whispered something to Ron. In a near instant, Ron’s attitude changed as he looked at Neville with an examining look. Neville started to turn back to Harry when Ron presented his wand suddenly and a small bright spark puffed. Before Harry could ask what Ron was doing, his friend had seized Neville’s collar and pulled him from his chair.

“Let me go,” snapped Neville, “What’s the matter? Don’t like being left out?”

Ron pulled Neville closer, looking right at his face before finally saying, “He’s not blinking.”

“What,” gasped Hermione?

“Not blinking,” repeated Ron and answered Harry’s puzzled expression with, “Remember Cho and Justin? Remember how they’re eyes were? They didn’t blink Harry. Just like Krum didn’t and just like Neville isn’t now. Harry, he’s under someone else’s control just like them.”

“Someone wanted us to be here,” whispered Hermione understanding, “But it looks like they only wanted Harry to be here.”

Rela looked really terrified at the moment and Harry’s face blanched as he whispered out, “It’s another trap.”

“Let’s go,” stated Ron and everyone stood up but Neville was resistant.

He wrenched him-self from Ron’s grip and with surprising speed, took off into the crowd. Harry stood up, turned and immediately headed for the door.

“What are you doing?” shouted Hermione, “Stay here.”

“You stay here … I have to go,” answered Harry quickly but with an odd tone, “There are innocent people here.”

Hermione made to shout for him again but Ron just grabbed the table and without effort, toppled it over, forcing people in the area to move away, clearing more of a path.

“Have ye gone daft,” snapped Ana suddenly appearing with their order of hot chocolate, “We’re busy and I only got two hands.”

“Get an owl to the ministry,” ordered Ron, shouting, “Tell them Harry Potter needs Aurors here now!”

Before Ana could respond, Harry felt someone grip his shoulder hard.

“Harry Potter?” said someone behind him, “Praise Merlin… I’d hope we’d find you before we were too late.”

“Erickson,” asked Ron as he and the girls closed the gap between them and Harry?

“The one and the same,” said the wizard named Erickson, “We found a note at Hogwarts from Malleck stating he was going to get you here today.”

“Malleck,” inquired Harry?

“Yes,” answered Erickson, “Now we need to meet up with the others, I’ll send a signal when we get outside and we’ll meet them at the rendezvous point.”

Ron held up his wand as Hermione and Rela reached for theirs.

“Don’t,” said Erickson quickly,” They’re looking for Harry and if we all go waving wands around we may as well as have a banner.”

Ron didn’t look too pleased but they went with him anyways. They stepped outside and left Ana watching after them until the door closed. Erickson held up his wand and purple colored sparks shot up into the air. Erickson then put him-self in front of Harry and told him to stay behind at all times. At that they began walking briskly until after a good few minutes, they stopped in front of an old building where two other wizards were talking merrily away.

When they approached they gave Erickson a casual look and one asked, “Damn good holiday this season eh Erickson?”

“Only if you’ve been good,” laughed Erickson.

“Mathews and his brother are circling around,” said the other one, “Do you have everything your wife wants?”

Erickson stepped to the side and motioned for Harry to step forward.

“She just wants a get together with her family and friends,” replied Erickson, “But I did snag her a little something from Binkins.”

“Well now,” said the man who spoken to them first, “Why don’t we get our task finished and when all the guests arrive, we’ll get things straightened out.”

Ron felt Rela grip his arm and he looked to her to see a frightened face.

“Don’t worry, “said Ron, “Erickson’s an Auror I met at the ministry.”

Then other man opened the door and Erickson pushed Harry in, adding, “We’ll get everything all squared up in a second.”

“But Ron,” whispered Rela trying to convey something, “I think he’s lying.”

“What do you mean, “whispered Ron inquiring.

“His voice doesn’t sound right,” answered Rela, “I think they have other intentions.”

Erickson then asked, “Every have their wands… good… lets get them out now.”

Ron and Hermione withdrew their wands but Rela hesitated.

“Like what,” said Ron, presenting his wand?

“I can’t understand it,” said Rela, “What they’re saying is true but the intentions behind the words are lies.”

“Perfect,” said Erickson, taking a few steps back, “Just perfect… makes the Accio spell much easier.”

“What,” whispered Ron confused, turning realizing what Rela was sensing?

“Accio wands,” shouted Erickson and all their wands flew from their hands.

The other two caught them in mid-air and rather then give the wands back; they simply snickered and walked up to stand beside Erickson, pocketing the wands.

“Well this is great,” said Ron, his anger beginning to surge.

“Well the Master was right,” said Erickson with a tone of superiority, “It wasn’t anything to draw them out.”

“Master?” said Hermione confused, “You’re Death Eaters?”

“Like we would need some note,” sneered Erickson not bothering to answer Hermione, “We’ve always known where Potter was.”

“And we’ll prove that our Master is the supreme Dark Lord,” growled one of the other two while the third walked over to another building, “ Not some half dead vampire like Malleck.”

Ron just glared at Erickson as Rela stood a step behind and confusion changed fast to disgusted.

“So you chose now to act,” snapped Hermione bravely, “When it’s the eve of a holiday… you lot decide to pull something now?”

Erickson just started laughing as did the one next to him. The third had gone to another building and was leading something small out a doorway, covered in an overlarge cloak and bound in the middle by a rope.

“Well it’s a present you see,” answered Erickson happily, “A gift to the world to know who to really fear and to our Master with Potter’s end.”

Erickson’s second peered at Rela and then added, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have our own fun.”

Ron’s face darkened horribly and the air got warmer as he moved forward stating, “I’ll show you fun.”

The third smiled and replied with, “Not unless you’re willing to pay the fare.”

And with that Ron stopped dead cold as did the warming of the air. The third wizard had removed the cloak from the object and it was revealed to be a small dark haired girl, possibly not older than eight years. Her eyes danced wildly, terrified and whimpers could be heard but the girl didn’t move at all. It wasn’t hard to deduce that the full body bind had been placed on her.

“Try anything and the brat suffers for it,” warned the third, “So step back… and wait until our guests arrive.”

Ron took a few steps back slowly and Hermione tried to think but it was hard as she felt her-self become disorientated.

“Looks like they’re here,” said Erickson as a large number of Dementors filed into the area.

As Hermione’s mind clouded and felt her-self losing balance, she could see the same happening to Ron and Rela. Ron seemed to be able to fight it more but Rela was turning a terrible shade of white.

Screams followed as villagers tried to run but were cut off by Dementors and other dark wizards. Distant screams and cries followed as well. In moments, the skies reflected the colors of spells being cast amongst the shouts in the air. A battle had begun in a village where only half the population could use a wand to fight or otherwise a perfect place for a slaughter.

“Looks like we won’t need this anymore,” said the third as he raised and aimed his wand at the little girl, “But let’s make it interesting.”

A glow filled the tip of his wand as he yelled,” Crucio!”

Hermione watched with horror as the spell left the wand and Ron even yelled out against them. A gust of strong wind came and the spell connected. A body slumped to the ground along with a piercing scream and they all became too shocked to speak. The girl still remained where she was, eyes closed, whimpers still coming but the person with long blonde hair in front of her made no sound at all.

Even Erickson was surprised as Ron with great effort moved forward and Hermione fought to keep her balance.

Meanwhile inside, the door closed and Harry found him-self in a dimly lit room full of potions and other knick knack magic items. It looked to be a store, probably closed for festivities, but it was terribly quite. He couldn’t even hear anyone talking outside and began to knock on the door, receiving no response. Harry reached for his wand to get their attention, fighting the panic presence of a cold feeling settling into his chest.

“Hello Harry,” said someone behind him, “Leaving so soon? But you just got here.”

Harry turned expecting to see a kind face but received the opposite. A man he knew from before came into view by the name of Macnair, a Death Eater for Voldemort.

“So glad you could come,” sneered Macnair, “But I must ask why you lot do such stupid tings? One familiar face and you’re ready to trust anything.”

“Erickson,” whispered Harry, feeling as panic began to set in?

“Very good,” mocked Macnair, stepping forward pointing his wand and reaching into Harry’s robes, “And here’s your prize.”

The cold feeling in his chest spread throughout his body and Harry began to feel faint. Seeing as three Dementors enter through a doorway in the back and glided slowly towards Harry. Macnair stepped back a few feet as he pulled Harry’s wand from within his robes, pocketing it.

Screams reached Harry’s ears, the screams of a woman he knew, a woman he called mother and they grew.

“Wallow in pain Potter,” growled Macnair, “Just as our Master did for years.”

The screams continued as his mind jumped from memory to memory in a cacophonic blast of assaulting flashes.

The Dursleys laughing…

Dudley opening a mountain of gifts…

Schoolmates laughing and pointing…

Teachers scoffing…

Dudley’s ganging chasing him…

“Know that there’s no one here for you,” laughed Macnair.

His mind continued to flash like a slide show run by a mad man.

A dark enclosed place with only a vent for air and light like that of a cupboard…

A place behind a garbage bin at primary school…

A dark alley between shops in town…

The stair way in the dead of night…

The bushes in front of the house…

Broom closets at primary school…

“But don’t fret too much as you die,” spoke Macnair with pleasure, “You won’t go to your mud blood mother alone… oh no… all your little nuisances will follow in due time.”

The madness of scene after scene continued in Harry’s mind bringing a burning pain to the inside of his skull as his body twitched and weakened.

The moment where Cedric’s body hit the ground, dead as death can make a person. His face cemented in the expression of shock. But the scene changed to where Cedric was not the body on the ground with that same terrible look. Instead others reprised his part of an ended life, nothing more than carcass lying on the ground, killed for pointless reasons. Harry’s mind watched every person he knew and cared for in some way took a moment in that role. Their once caring and smiling face becoming that cemented form of Cedric.

Ron…

Hermione…

Fred…

Ginny...

Neville…

Justin…

Professor McGonagall…

Mr. Weasley…

Charlie…

Hagrid…

Cho…

Mrs. Weasley…

Professor Lupin…

Bill…

Seamus…

Dean…

George…

Percy…

Professor Dumbledore…

Hermione…

Rela…

Fleur…

Lavender…

Patti…

Professor Snape…

Hermione…

And a host more of people from Hogwarts, Harry called friends.

The pain became so great that Harry had to hold his head in both hands as he collapsed against the floor.

“Make sure you lot take your time,” ordered Macnair, “He must know what is to suffer like so many he was the cause of.”

It seemed like Macnair was directing the Dementors on their torment of his mind as now terrible moments where pain and suffering came in some form or another for people.

The Dursleys terrified of Hagrid’s arrival…

The troll swinging its club at Hermione…

Gryffindor losing so many points…

The dead Unicorn killed by Quirrell…

The Queen Chess piece striking at Ron…

Quirrell screaming as he turned to dust…

Ms. Norris petrified…

The ashen but still looks of his petrified peers…

The even more dead like look of the blasted Gryffindor ghost…

The basilisk screaming in pain as the sword of Gryffindor pieced its hide…

Ginny in her mother’s arms…

Dobby smiling hopelessly besides Lucius Malfoy…

Neville when his passwords were stolen…

Ron’s breaking leg…

Hermione’s screams inside the Shrieking shack…

The Dark mark appearing…

The Muggles abused for amusement…

Ron’s disbelief in him…

The terrible scene under the lake…

Hermione covered in bubotuber pus…

Cho crying…

Justin staring out the window…

And many, many, many more that followed. Each a moment that had been brought on by something Harry did or was.

“Learn your place,” growled Macnair, “And understand why you are no different than the sheep we slaughter.”

Names flashed through Harry’s mind of those lost, their names spoken by others.

Barty Crouch… Frank Bryce… Bertha Jonkins…

“And you’ll know,” said Macnair sneering malevolently, “That you can never do anything to prevent our power… let alone even considered the idea.”

Harry’s head throbbed with pain, too distracted to measure it as dark memories blasted through his mind amongst the screams of his mother replaying over and over and over.

As un-conscientiousness began to settle in to Harry’s pain filled body. Another thought came to him.

Nothing could stand in our way…

Our powers united would crush whatever dares to try…

Together we will make all even our enemies cower in loyalty or be obliterated in conquest

Though dark and sounding like a banshee it had a strange comfort it. His conscientiousness ebbing almost completely away, he heard the creature he had hoped not to hear anymore.

Do you really want to give up now… or end this… end them?

Now would be a good time to choose… or lose… everything.

Suddenly Harry’s mind took another painful blast but this time things weren’t so horrible.

Hermione’s warm smile…

Mrs. Weasley’s hug…

The cheering of the Quidditch crowds…

The rushing air on a broom…

Hermione’s few but warm hugs through the year…

The feel of her skin when picked her up…

Ron’s laughter and invitations for fun…

Professor McGonagall’s few but praising words…

Dumbledore gaze of belief and hope…

Dobby’s odd elf smiles…

Hermione lips upon his cheek…

Rela timid but friendly nature…

Hermione’s hand gripping his and their fingers entwining…

The smiles of those around him and the people at school who believed in him…

Sirius’s encouraging words…

Hagrid’s unwavering belief in him…

Lupin’s encouragement and revelations…

Hermione’s hair on his skin…

The smell of flowers around her…

The touch of her hand to his cheek…

All his friends, all the people who risked much helping and knowing him, all would be lost if he did nothing.

This one thought filled Harry’s pain ridden torture mind.

He would lose everyone and everything unless he made a choice.

A choice the dark creature urged, the choice Riddle made years ago.

To take what swelled in his heart, poisoned his soul, brought nightmares night after night and release it all at once.

Macnair said something else and the dementors glided back a few feet. Macnair stepped forward and grabbed the thing of boy crouched on the floor and hoisted him up.

“Well what have to you say,” snarled Macnair, “Before I use my privilege to end you.”

In an instant, deafening thunder rumbled and the windows shattered. Potions bubbled and bottles began exploding as the room’s temperature turned to ice. Flashes of lightening light up outside the broken windows.

Evidence of a choice made…

To Macnair’s surprise, Harry didn’t seem to be in any pain and instead watched as the boy reached out, gripping his robes tightly. The surprise was replaced by confused horror as Harry opened his eyes and gave Macnair his answer.

An explosion followed and one wall gave out completely. Hermione struggled on the ground, turning her head with whatever strength remained as pieces of the wall blasted out. The Dementors around them stumbled slightly in their gliding ways as the stone pieces and wood flew by. Amongst it all a body of a wizard flew out across the way, landing some distance from them. Ron couldn’t see as a Dementor held him, preparing to give its kiss. Rela still lay on the ground having been it by the Cruciatius curse. The three wizards had been standing by laughing when the explosion occurred. Erickson was able to remain mostly in place though losing balance while the other two were knocked away by debris.

Hermione was able to finally see into the heavily damaged building and found a sight not ever conceived.

The inside was black, more so than any shade she could think of, void of any light but one. In the darkness two small eyes, bright as fire, cold in their stare but red as the blood emanated within. There came a growl, loud and threatening, like a beast preparing to strike.

“What the hell is that,” asked Erickson, starting to get back on his feet?

The Dementors did nothing but look towards the opening. Other dark wizards came rushing from alleyways and more to see what had happened. Villagers, that could be seen, huddle in corners begging not to be harmed.

It was then the creature, hidden by the darkness, unleashed reason for being.

Elsewhere at Hogwarts, a window to the Headmaster’s office blew open and he looked up as rushing wind blew in. Fawkes spread out its wings and began screeching loudly as the wind blew by. As it did, a set of tarot cards on a shelf were swept up and swirled in the air towards the desk. After a few seconds, the wind stopped and all the cards floated to the floor but five of which floated and landed in front of the Headmaster, facing up. At this Professor McGonagall burst in.

“Albus, “spoke Professor McGonagall impatiently and worriedly, “The elves are all frightened for some reason... they’ve locked themselves in the kitchen.”

Saying nothing at first, Dumbledore looked at the five cards that now lay before him. The first showed an image of a village on fire. The second bore an image of a dragon reared on its hind legs, roaring into the sky. Those two were labeled Destruction and Dragon. The third card illustrated an empty prison cell with manacles on the floor as its iron bar door swung freely open. The fourth card revealed a dark image, as black as a starless night with two dark but bright eyes in the background. They were labeled the Dungeon and Demon cards. The final card presented an image of a faceless person holding their chest as blood seeped from the hands. It was labeled the Wounded.

“The chains are broken… the dragon, Degarus, has awakened from slumber,” said Dumbledore, his words full of sorrow suddenly, “His wounds still not healed… and now destruction will follow in the wake of his rage.”

McGonagall stared at the Headmaster as he just looked back.

“Now we shall see if our efforts and the love of those around him has been enough,” stated Dumbledore, “Or many may not survive… this Storm of Torment.”

Next Chapter

Aftermath

26. Aftermath

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: Let me start by saying this, no matter what opinion that has been developed from the ending of the previous chapter or along the way of this one, I do not plan to give Harry a “god like” existence or power. Rather I am striving to point out that the Orb has accelerated something that he was not prepared for at his age. Basically a too much power, too young and not ready kind of concept is what I’m aiming for..

I thought I would answer some emails I have been receiving as well as reviews.

Why the elemental idea? Well I had written a story once before about warriors of the past endowed by the elements and I included it into this story with some heavy alterations. Plus the books and movies gave me the encouragement to do so. Harry has a lightening shaped scar. The letter P in Potter on the covers of the books and the movies is made with a lightening bolt. Hagrid said that the house had nearly been destroyed when he looked for Harry in the debris in the first book. Those details along with the description of Ron with flaming red hair and Hermione with bushy brown hair and eyes made me wonder if there was something more to them then has been said.

Another question has been why vampires? Well we’ve seen a lot of creatures mention and talked about. Vampires have hardly been mention and always have been a classic creature of fear by us Muggle. So I thought what if the Magic version was different and how could I do it.

I have also been asked as to why I added a new enemy besides Voldemort. Simple actually I felt that if Riddle vanished for fifty years, give or take a few, and Dumbledore said he had delved into the deepest pits of Dark magic possible then maybe there were others involved in this evil. Others he may have overthrown in his quest for power and what if one of them came back for revenge and used Potter to do it.

One of favorite ones has been about Lucius Malfoy and that he doesn’t seem to be described correctly. In all honesty, that is absolutely correct. Jason Isaacs is the reason why that is. He is one of my favorite actors even as an evil character. Honestly when I saw him play Lucius Malfoy, it has been his portrayal that brought Lucius to life for me. Even with the all the books including the fifth its Jason Isaacs that gives me an image of Lucius Malfoy.

Why the Malfoys as a vampires? Well the truth is I didn’t have that idea at first. The relationship of Draco and his father is an impression I had derived, though with little basis to prove it but that again goes back to Jason Isaacs and his interview as Lucius Malfoy. There is a line in the previous chapter about Draco supposedly boasting a relation to a vampire. Originally it was only going to be Ginny, Harry, Maylen and Daken. The real reason for it is that two of my cousins who pushed for me to post this story swear that it is true. That Draco had boasted about a vampire relative. I have wanted to find that detail but have not had time to research it because I like to have some basis of plausibility. Hence the lightening references and more that I have perceived or suspected. I ask that if anyone knows this to be true, please post in reviews or in email what page and book is this so called boast about Draco. Sorry Jess but I don’t quite believe you.

Why Binkins shop? The moment that idea came I thought it was ridiculous and way over board. Sorry D but that’s what I thought. Lu and Nu were actually characters I had reserved for a summer adventure but I was ‘convinced’ to apply them otherwise. I did agree with the idea that the boys may not be able to pick out a gift for the important ladies in their lives and would need help. It did bring to light a very important detail that has a key role in this chapter.

Will I write a sixth year? I am thinking about it and I would like to. I have an outline started but it would have to be based on the first four and my fifth year version. The reason for this is because I do not want to attempt to build on OoP. I do not believe I would cast a plausible sixth year and fear that I would bring insult rather than enjoyment. I am being encouraged to do so with my current outline but its still under consideration.

And lastly my all time favorite question why Harry and Hermione? I’ve heard arguments on many levels on the issue of pairings. I even had an instructor actually pose it as a debate topic for a government class I took. Believe me it got ugly, books and pages flying about, not literally unfortunately. It was one of the best debates I ever partook in. The truth is I simply want it to be an H/Hr fiction. I’m not trying to defend a side or claim I know better. I simply want the messy black haired boy and busy brown haired girl to get to get together. If book six or seven says otherwise well that’s fine, it’s J.K. Rowling’s story anyways. Secretly I suspect that Ron has a thing for blondes, considering Fleur and that is why Rela is blonde by the way. If anybody is a serious R/Hr shipper, I would suggest giving www.sugarquill.net a try as it is a fan fiction site devoted to the idea of Ron and Hermione coupling. However please don’t ignore Fanfiction.net as that’s where I am. Sorry if that sounds selfish but I don’t want to be forgotten. LOL

I’ll post some more responses in the next chapter unless you would rather ask me via email.

My email is itmonster@hotmail.com please make the subject HPatTW

!!PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING!!

!!PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING!!

This is only the FIRST 12 complete pages. I’ve been receiving some emails of people wanting something to snack on so here you go. I should have the rest very soon. As you may have read from portkey, my hard drive was chewed up and spit out as garbage thanks to the viral surge we’ve had last month. I had to rebuild my computer and invest in viral protection. The parts and funding took some time as you may have noticed. Thankfully I back up my files every month but I still had to re-write most of this chapter again.

Revised 9/25/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 26

Aftermath

The dust began to settle but the cold winter day remained in darkness. Thick storm clouds choked out the sunlight, bringing lightening that viciously sliced across the blackened skies, joined by roars of ominous thunder in its wake. Between the raging strikes, patches of colors illuminated small areas above the buildings. Distant shouts indicated the exchanged of spells within the Magic population. Sounds of screams and breaking materials filled the gaps between deafening discharges in the skies.

The Dementors remained motionless, each staring in the same direction from behind their guise of cloaks. Their attentions were strangely drawn to whatever bore the cold, furious eyes dwelling in the battered building. Ron remained barely consciences while held in the air by a Dementor preparing its Kiss. Another loomed over Hermione as a small group had been approaching Rela and the young girl. The dark wizards who had been approaching with the Dementors were either too surprised to react or were drawn back into the alleys to counter resistance.

Hermione’s mind was finding it hard to concentrate but one thought became clear as she look into the dark interior.

- Red eyes… red as blood, - thought Hermione, - What did they let out of him? -

Erickson was able to get back to his feet, though holding his side with difficulty.

“Stop floating around,” shouted Erickson suddenly, “And kill them!”

The Dementors resumed their quest for their intended prey. Two broke ranks from their group towards Rela and the spell bound child. Though her body was weakened to the point of being numb, Hermione was able to feel a tight grip on her arm and the smell of something rotting reach her nose. She didn’t have to waste strength in looking for she knew what was there and its purpose. Ron made a small sound trying to still resist but so many Dementors were making the possibility unrealistic.

Hermione felt the Dementor pull her body upwards and the only strength she had left was for panic to set in. She barely noticed an effervescent sound and something hissing behind her. In an instant, her arm was released and she slumped painfully back to the icy ground. Looking up slightly, Hermione could see that Ron too had been release and the movements of his chest told her the Kiss had not yet been done. The draining power of Dementors quickly began to fade and Hermione felt her mind begin to clear, even Ron was responding. Whatever had canceled the Dementors’ power drew the horrid creatures’ attentions away from them.

“What are you doing?” shouted Erickson again, drawing his wand, “Finish them!”

Erickson realized where his attention should have been while receiving the answer in the form of something with horns, silvery white in color and extremely large in size as it stepped from the dark interior of the damaged building. Its hooves made the sound of heavy thuds, like bricks being dropped, against the icy stone ground. Along with her mind, Hermione’s vision focused to see a substantially large stag stepped into view.

- A stag, - thought Hermione surprised, - A Patronus… but it’s enormous? -

The Dementors seem to agree as none of them moved an inch in the slightest.

“There’s only one,” roared Erickson, “It can’t stop all of you!”

Encouraged by Erickson’s words, the Dementors once again resumed their intentions. Those near Rela were only a few feet away and the child could be heard screaming, though her mouth would not release the sound and her eyes went as big as they could. Hermione smelled the rotting scent near her again and the Dementor by Ron bent, reaching for him.

The hissing came again and the event to follow was one of great mystery and astonishment. Following the hissing, the luminous stag reared and charged forth. Its horns drew level with the ground as it closed the gap between it-self and Rela in amazing speed. The stag side stepped the child, leaping over Rela, all without ever slowing and connected with the closest approaching Dementor. The horrid creature let off a piercing sound filling the air with a continuous surge of a screeching whine. The Dementor fell back, sliding off the stag’s sharp horns and slumped to the ground, leaving a sludge-like substance on the horns of the Patronus. The stag reared again and struck out with its front hooves, knocking another Dementor away and using the thrust of that motion to deliver another assault with the rear hooves. Both Dementors landed a distance away and none so far made a motion to rise. In a manner of a moment, the stag had fended off six Dementors and the rest remained at bay, possibly too surprised by these actions to do anything.

Hermione had watched the Patronus perform a feat it should not be able to do. Her mind recalled reading that Patronuses were not truly solid in form but yet this one could make direct contact. The amazement had left her forgetful of the Dementor looming above and was forced to realize this as her arm was seized again. She turned as the hooded creature made to pull her closer. Freezing fear surged through Hermione’s every muscle, locking them in resistance and she barely heard the following effervescent sound and the hissing from behind once again.

Hermione wondered quickly on how to break free but found she did not have to ponder long. Something bright blinded Hermione’s eyes with quick movement as it broke the Dementor’s grip and pushed her back to the ground. From what she could see in the snow, it cast a silvery white light around a shadow of a four legged beast. Her legs were pinned down by the beast and Hermione turned her torso as best as possible to see. Her eyes focused on the bright silvery white creature to see a huge hound standing over her. The ears were laid back, teeth bared and its posture situated in readiness for attack. Large nails extended from its paws, an oozing sludge like substance already coated the right paw. The Dementor glided back, slightly wavering.

“Bloody hell,” shouted Ron’s voice expectedly!

Hermione twisted back and looked to see Ron sitting up, suddenly awake while staring at yet another silvery white beast poised in front of him. Its appearance was that of a wolf like animal, very familiar in shape. The Dementor previously attempting its Kiss now glided haphazardly away. It swayed from side to side as an oozing sludge like fluid dripped heavily onto the ground from under its cloak. The silver beast held a freshly torn but rotted limb in its mouth. She realized it to be the arm of the Dementor, backing away seemingly bleeding in some decayed way, now in the wolf’s jaws.

Three Patronuses, each an animal, each somehow formed with such intensity that they could make direct contact with the Dementors. A fact that all the books referencing Patronuses had not stated as a feature in their creation. To add to that was also to remember that no book had ever said it possible for more than one Patronus to be brought forth and yet here were three. A graceful stag, a vigilant hound and a vicious wolf all from the same source, that which bore the hateful and furious eyes in shadows of the barely standing building.

Hermione’s eyes widen while staring at the wolf, realizing its appearance aside from the silvery white coloring was the same as Lupin when he transformed that night nearly two years ago. That Patronus was actually a werewolf apparition and she turned again, ignoring the groan her back gave to look at the hound again. It too had similar features, very much the same as another they knew. Though the original portrayer of the stag’s appearance she had never met, it wasn’t hard to guess who that matched. Before them stood three Patronus versions of the Marauders, each powerful enough to not only touch the Dementors but even cause serious injury and maybe they could do more.

“How is this possible,” question Erickson, clearly confused and surprised?

More hissing came and all turned to look as a person stepped out from the crumbling building. His skin was pale, more so than the snow. His hair, once shiny jet black and hopelessly messy, now was dull and laid flat with no defiance. Blood, fresh and flowing, trailed from a scar along the side of his face. His glasses, broken yet again, hung lopsided across the bridge of his nose. Harry Potter stepped into full view from the shadowed depths of the previous building as it finally collapsed, sending out more debris.

Though Hermione was relieved to see Harry uninjured and worried by his unnatural actions, it did little to prepare her for what came next.

“So Macnair failed, “sneered Erickson sadistically, “I’ll remedy that.”

Erickson aimed his wand and prepared a spell. Harry didn’t do anything besides stand in place and watch the wizard.

“Stupefy,” shouted Erickson and the stun spell left his wand!

Harry didn’t make any attempt to block, rather he just stood there. The stun spell hit him directly in the chest and aside from making Harry take a step back for balance, no other result of the spell was produced. Erickson stood locked in stance with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Harry simply readjusted his posture from the spell and smirked at Erickson while slowly raising his own wand. Following a quick hiss, Erickson’s wand shot away and into Harry’s free hand, gripping it tightly. The wizard watched helplessly as the wood of the wand grayed and fell apart like ash.

Harry opened his hand, letting the ash remnants scatter into the breeze. As the final remnants fluttered away, Harry reached up; gripping his glasses and withdrew them from his face, holding them in a fist in front of him-self.

“Well aren’t you gifted,” snapped Erickson, trying to hide a quake in his voice.

Harry just stared at him, a smirk still present while lightly hissing something in response. The surrounding Patronuses began to move. The stag kept its horns drawn and stepped towards the Dementors nearest to it. The werewolf dropped the torn limb and stalked forward as well. The hound released Hermione’s legs and it too creped forward. The Dementors glided away, retreating at the same pace.

Harry looked to his hand holding the damaged glasses and slowly began to tighten is fist. They could hear the remaining glass to break and see as the metal frames bent completely out of shape. Like Erickson’s wand, Harry opened his hand, letting the tiny shards and metal mass of the glasses slid out, falling to the ground.

Erickson gave a puzzled look before Harry hissed again and all at once the advancing Patronuses accelerated. The stag galloped forward as the two canines took off, darting them-selves at their own targets. The Dementors turned and surprisingly fled, chased away by the Patronuses. Within moments, they all had vanished from sight and the same screeching whines joined the chorus of sounds from the village, the odd luminescence creations apparently pouncing at their prey.

“What are you all standing around for?” shouted Erickson angrily to the wizards, standing around in awe of the events, “Kill this Muggle loving scum!”

The wizards seemed to have forgotten their purpose and quickly raised wands. The tips colored to the spells coming and Erickson smiled confidently at Harry.

“You’re luck is finally out now boy,” sneered Erickson.

Ron tried to get up but though his mind was alert, his body hadn’t recovered from the exposure to the Dementors. Hermione hadn’t attempted to stand yet. Something nagged in her mind to not move but to instead wait and her instincts were proven to be right.

In reality events occurred in a matter of seconds but Hermione’s mind watched it all unfold much more slowly. Harry didn’t seem to be bothered by the threat of so many impending spells. Rather he pulled his wand back and held it upright in front of him-self. A quick hiss and the tip glowed with a bright blue color. Harry’s blank expression turned to a deceptive and humored look. Erickson’s eyes went wide as he glanced around suddenly. Spells left the wands of the surrounding wizards as Erickson suddenly shouted for them to stop but too late.

In an instant, everything went bright with a mixture of colors from the different spells cast. Hermione’s eyes closed in reaction but her hearing remained. She was quickly engulfed in a cacophony of gong sounding like strikes. When it was over, the only sound that remained was the voice of an injured person.

“What the… hell… are you,” exclaimed someone in pain, stuttering their question, “You can’t… be human… what kind of… bastard creature… are you?”

Hermione opened her eyes and looked ahead to see many of the wizards from Ron’s side all sprawled out along the ground. Those missing either fled or would account for the holes in the buildings near them. Erickson was on one knee, his right arm holding the left shoulder as blood seeped between his fingers.

“The Shield charm… can only repel… minor spells, “breathed out Erickson, forcing him-self to stand again, pain obvious in his voice, “Maybe… one strong spell… but you repelled… all of them… how?”

Harry hissed something again and his expression twisted darkly. Hermione watched Harry present his wand again with a swish and flick motion, debris near Erickson rattle and pieces of broken wood levitated in to the air. Hermione was able to count at least five but there were more. Each with a sharp end, pointed at Erickson.

“Master,” quietly asked Erickson to no one, “What is this thing?”

Harry flicked his wand sharply and the wooden pieces shot forward, smashing through an awaiting wall of stone behind and taking Erickson with them.

The Dementors driven away and the current wizards around, out cold or otherwise, Harry walked forward towards Rela and the binded girl. Harry had his wand at ready and Ron forced him-self to stand.

“Harry wait,” spoke Ron with heavy effort, getting his balance and slowly moving forward, pleading, “Don’t hurt them.”

Ron was moving slowly at first but was resolving that quickly as his strength seem to return the more his body was pushed.

Unfortunately it was not quick enough for Harry now stood before the child Rela had protected. Without hesitation or warning, Harry pointed his wand at the girl’s head and hissed something yet again. Hermione gasped and Ron stopped as Harry unleashed his magic on yet another person.

A tiny, quick flash later, the little girl crouched to the ground, hands covering her face and terror filled whimpers escaping her throat.

It took a moment for Hermione and Ron to register what Harry had done. He had only released the girl from the binding spell as the child lifted her head, looking at her hands, realizing her body was able to move again.

Ron staggered on with determination as the actions Harry had done seem to bring inspiration. At Rela’s side, Ron fell to his knees and hesitantly rolled the girl over. He sighed with relief when a groan followed the motion as the Whasperor’s chest slowly rose and fell.

Hermione was trying to push her-self up, but her body wasn’t complying. In the corner of her eye, she watched Harry turned swiftly and walked towards her, his robes flailing around with him. Without any difficulty, Harry gripped Hermione’s other arm and lifted her back onto her feet. She had been alert enough while on the ground but now on her feet, everything went hazy and numb. She felt her-self pressed against someone and tried to get her eyes to focus. Her vision blurred and thought began difficult, but she was able to make out a black haired boy with eyes red as blood. She was held so close to this person that his breath brushed hot against her face.

It was then that everything went dark and quiet…

Next Chapter

Aftermath Part 2

27. Aftermath Part 2

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now or planning to in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: Let me start by saying this (repeated from chapter 25), no matter what opinion that has been developed from the ending of the previous chapter or along the way of this one, I do not plan to give Harry a “god like” existence or power. Rather I am striving to point out that the Orb has accelerated something that he was not prepared for at his age. Basically a too much power, too young and not ready kind of concept is what I’m aiming for.

I thought I’d never get this done. The details and the flow would just not line up the way I wanted to. Compound that with a weeks worth of writer’s block. I’d sit at the computer and just stare it for an hour before I realized I was just wasting time. That plus the new semester and the hectic of work has cut time to a miniscule finite scale. But I’m not quitting unless a wizard shows up and performs an obliviate on me.

My understanding is that Port keys are not affected by the apparition charm so that is why there is mention of port keys being used in this chapter.

My email is itmonster@hotmail.com please make the subject HPatTW

Revised 10/20/03

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 27

Aftermath

Part 2

“Is she at it again,” spoke a girl’s voice in dismissive whispers?

“Yep,” answered a boy just the same, “Fifth one and the week’s hardly over.”

“What did you expect?” snapped another girl in loud whispers and a huff, “She thinks so high of her-self. She does all that school work so she doesn’t have to lower her-self to us nothings.”

At this Hermione turned in her single seat desk to speak out but laughter and the sight that greeted her halted that notion. The girl who had spoke so insultingly now stood before the group with a book open and holding her nose high, pretending to answer questions from an unseen teacher. They continued to laugh even while leaving the room, not even considering whether they had been heard.

Hermione felt they cold wetness on her face as she turned back to her book and watch the spots appear on the pages. Her sight blurred along with ink of the now doused pages and the pain cut through without end.

In a flash the days passed, each similar to the painful moment from before. Those who were her classmates, her peers, always remained at a distance no matter what was tried.

Then the day of the owl came and the letter revealing a startling secret. Following the first day in Diagon Alley and many shops, so many lined with books and the studies of magic rampant. A world in which learning was highest of priorities, a place she was sure to belong now and be welcomed accordingly. As that joy had come, it had dissipated too soon with the arrival of the new school year and the new school it-self along with those she would now call her peers.

She felt her joys crack and hopes fade from the first day. Seeing as those around were very much the same as those she had known before. Boys who sought the thrill of sport and adventure over the wondrous bounties of the untold number of books available and girls who partook in gossip circles over the enrichments the study of magic offered. There were again those groups who thought themselves higher than the rest and those who did all for fun and play. It seemed no different than the place she had been but she continued on, trying harder than she had in the past but received little result.

Some did respond to the sharing of her natural gift to learn but it was few and hardly encouraging. The professors responded but she felt it to be not enough. She tried to be helpful to two she had met on the train prior to arrival but it seemed just as useless. They too didn’t seem too responsive to her but she continued on, not willing to let those hurtful things said before on many occasions be repeated.

That was until a lesson in Charms came and she followed her classmates out of the castle, only to hear a red headed boy speak. His words so much the same, those she had hoped to prevent but alas it had been futile. The tactless boy’s words cut through with speed that no spell she had read of could match and the cold wetness returned with little hesitation.

Within a stall of a girls’ lavatory, her loneliness returned. It had all been for nothing, no one cared for her ways and nothing had changed as she had so hoped for. There seemed to be nothing to aspire for and wondered why she even had bothered even as something foul smelling reached her nose. Eyes drained of tears along with overcoming exhaustion and hunger; Hermione stepped from her place of solitude to be greeted by a monstrosity. Now all would end and maybe it would be for the best.

I always liked how you cared so much… how you brighten at knowing the answer… the excitement in your eyes when you learned something new.

A familiar voice sounded in her mind as the end approached and she ducked into the stall. The wood around her splintered to bits as she just narrowly made it to the floor.

You have no idea what I feel when I see you reading a book and light from the fireplace glows around you.

The same person again spoke again as the wood slid away during her attempt to escape.

No… I don’t think you’re pretty.

Enough of the wood had moved and she saw the creature towering above her.

You’re beautiful.

Hermione turned at the sound of a door slamming open and a boy she had met with the most amazing green eyes rushed in followed closely by a red headed boy she too had met.

And I don’t think it… I know it.

Spoke again a voice she knew to a boy’s, so close as if it were in her mind.

She watched this boy who seemed to care no more for her than Snape did for Gryffindors charged the destructive creature, drawing its attentions away from her and challenging it him-self, though no better off than she had been.

Happiness filled her again and adventurous moments flashed before her eyes. Times when her natural gifts of knowledge and study were given the tests they deserved.

As quick as those moments had come, they ended just as abruptly. Back into the darkness she found her-self but it was kept alight only by a shadowed image of a boy, his eyes burning of cold fury and red as spilt blood.

“Harry,” shouted Hermione sitting up!

“Easy Ms. Granger,” spoke a familiar woman next to her.

The room spinning slightly but her eyes trying to focus, Hermione found her-self sitting up on a hard wood floor. There were tables and chairs all about, with a multitude of people around. Most looked frightened, some holding children, others were being treated for injuries but a small group were gathered near what looked to be a bar in heated discussions.

“Ms. Granger,” said the woman again?

Hermione turned again, her vision clearing the room, to look into the worried and inquisitive face of Professor McGonagall.

“Where am I,” asked Hermione, her words raspy and throat suddenly dry?

McGonagall lifted a glass of water to her and Hermione sipped at it with her professor’s aid.

“The Dungeons,” answered McGonagall, “Ana said you all just appeared on the doorstep. You were passed out, Ms. Minet was injured, Mr. Weasley was still under the effects of the Dementors and the child was simply too frightened to move.”

Placing a hand against her forehead, Hermione felt a dull ringing begin along with a sudden ach all over.

“Where are you going,” shouted someone near the bar suddenly?

“You are not the only one to whom my attentions are required,” replied some else with an aged familiar voice.

Hermione opened her eyes and turned her stiffening neck towards the bar. An older person approached in the dim light with a gray beard that was nearly stretched the length of his whole. The closer the wizard came, the more she could make of him. His aged face showed many years, bearing half moon spectacles as he slowly kneeled to the floor closer to Hermione.

“Welcome back Hermione,” greeted the wizard with a trace of a sullen tone, “I wish it were under better circumstances.”

It took Hermione a moment to realize she was looking into the smiling and welcoming face of Albus Dumbledore.

“Where is Harry,” repeated Hermione?

The smile faded from Dumbledore as he answered, “He did not arrive here with you.”

Hermione stared at him, her expression blank and her thoughts the same.

“From what we could gather from Ronald,” continued Dumbledore after a second of silence, “Harry picked you up and placed you with Rela. Then grabbed the child and thrust her into Ronald’s arms.”

Dumbledore stopped though clearly showing that was not the end to the answer.

“So… so where… is he,” stumbled Hermione?

“Others were coming,” answered Dumbledore and finished with, “He used some kind of spell, like Apparition that gave him the means to send all of you here… but leave him-self behind… he has business still yet to be completed is all I can assume at this time.”

Hermione just stared at Dumbledore again, letting what had been said take root in her mind and become sensible.

“I need to help him,” whispered Hermione trying to stand, “We can’t leave him like that... out there with them.”

“I agree but we cannot move with haste, “replied Dumbledore, giving aid to Hermione along with McGonagall as she slowly stood, “I know it may seem to be an unnecessary delay… but it is imperative in ways I cannot yet explain that I know the events that led to this.”

“Didn’t Ron tell you, “inquired Hermione, trying to maintain her balance?

“Mr. Weasley was only able to tell us a little before he was,” began McGonagall, pausing a moment, and finishing with, “Subdued by the Aurors.”

“Subdued,” responded Hermione surprised?

“Merely calmed with a charm to settle him down,” answered Dumbledore, rising slowly as well, explaining, “It should be just about wearing off any moment… he was still under the effects of the Dementors as are you… and that with his desire to return to Harry… was making him become a bit uncontrollable… his body was repelling the effects but his mind… which is opposite for you.”

Hermione understood what Dumbledore meant as her mind seemed to be the only thing functioning. If it weren’t for McGonagall, she would not be able to stand still. The muscles in her legs were barely cooperating and the ache in her body had not yet passed.

“Dumbledore,” stated somebody at the bar.

“I will return when I have something to contribute,” responded Dumbledore in tone of authority still unfamiliar to her, “Otherwise I have given all that I can to you for the moment.”

Dumbledore turn back to Hermione with a smile and with a nod to McGonagall they helped her to a nearby table. McGonagall left them and returned a minute later with milk and a chunk of chocolate. McGonagall then placed a neatly folded but wet and dirty green sweater on the table next to her. Hermione recognized it to be the sweater she had been wearing earlier in the day.

- McGonagall must have taken it off, - thought Hermione, -With it being wet and all.-

“Have a bit,” suggested Dumbledore, “Then you can tell me the events.”

“How long have we been here, “asked Hermione, looking at the group at the bar, sure that they were Aurors, while attempting to take a break the chocolate into pieces, “We can’t leave Harry out there.”

McGonagall placed her hand on Hermione shoulder and gave it a squeeze answering with, “You’ve only been unconscious for not much more than a quarter of an hour.”

“The Aurors arrived here only minutes after you three were led into the trap,” added Dumbledore, “Someone tipped the Auror division of dark activity soon to occur… and it is policy to send a small group to investigate… and so it would appear that the claim was accurate… but they have been seeking Harry out since having found the claim to be true.”

Hermione stared at the Headmaster and remembered the colored lights from spells in the distance along with the shouts. The Aurors must have been ambushed as they had been led further in.

“Eat,” ordered McGonagall.

Dumbledore said nothing but continued to smile weakly. Hermione picked up the chocolate piece and began to take bites at it. As the sweet mass broke down and melted in her mouth, Hermione found her-self suddenly hungry for it and finished the rest of it along with the milk. Her stomach welcomed the sweet material easily and result of it was the ringing in her head stopped and the ach of her body faded.

“Good now please begin starting at the location where the Dementors came into the picture, “spoke Dumbledore, seemingly sensing Hermione’s change in health, “But do please be as detailed as possible concerning Harry’s actions.”

Hermione spoke quickly since that her physical self seem restored, she was anxious to get looking for Harry. She told them how Erickson led them to two others and their wands taken after Harry was separated from them. The little girl brought out and their attempt to use the Crucio but the interruption of Rela. The arrival of the Dementors and the explosion of the building in which Harry returned to them. The way the blast knocked away two of the wizards’ body aside from Erickson and the other body that followed in the debris of the blown out wall. With that she finished with the arrival of three Patronuses and their unusual creation.

Dumbledore never spoke a word during the explanation and waved away anyone who came to him to McGonagall.

“After that I passed out when Harry pulled me up,” finished Hermione.

“That’s when what I said came into play,” said a boy behind her, his tone angry.

Hermione turned and saw Ron walk towards her along with Rela, though she could have done with more color as she looked a bit worn. Turning back she watched as the aged wizard looked away, thoughts running rampant from his sudden expression and the rapid movement of his eyes.

Then he whispered to no one, “It must have been enough… for his will to overcome such influence.”

Dumbledore’s last comment drew curiosity from Hermione but Ron spoke before she could inquire.

“Can I go now,” interjected Ron, speaking as if asking were merely a formality?

“Help him by helping me,” stated Dumbledore plainly, “And we may be able to reunite all of you.”

“What did you mean by it must have been enough,” Hermione asked,” What may have been enough?”

Dumbledore gave her a small smile and simply stated, “Enough to form the chains that bind him.”

“Chains… bind,” repeated Hermione and then asked, “Bind him to what?”

Dumbledore took a second to give them each a look and answered, “Not to what… but to whom.”

Before she inquired further, the door to the pub banged open and people came rushing in, a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar.

Some people with children came in led by Fred in front and George in back. Bill followed next with a man hit by a jinx, hanging off his shoulders. More angry looking wizards enter as well with others held at wand point. Those held at wand point gave Ron and Hermione a very unsettling look as they passed. A woman came in; speaking a language Hermione didn’t recognize but seemed quite angry. Among the last to enter was Charlie, literally dragging another wizard in by his robes.

Without care or waiting for assistance, Charlie released the wizard to the ground. The man just laid there shaking, mumbling incoherently as Charlie turned towards them will Bill and the twins coming as well.

“Ron,” sighed Charlie, his face bearing a black eye,” Glad you’re alright.”

”Where’s Ginny,” asked Fred and George added, “And Mum?”

“We left Ginny at the house with Daken,” answered Rela, “But your mother was already gone when we got back from Diagon Alley.”

“So,” chimed Bill warily,” Where’s Harry?”

Before answer was given, the mumbling wizard being aided by a villager on the floor gave a shriek at hearing Harry’s name and seemed to cringe into a fetal position on the floor.

“Still out there,” snapped Ron, “Now I’m leaving to find Harry.”

When Harry’s name was spoken again, the wizard repeated his behavior.

“You know ever since we found him,” inquired Charlie suspiciously, “He’s been babbling on about something.”

Attentions turned to the man on the floor. The villager trying to give aid was stopped as Charlie pushed his way past and seized the wizard, hoisting him up.

“What are you babbling about,” shouted Charlie?

The wizard said nothing coherent, only babbled out meaningless sounds from an ashen and burned face. He shook like a frighten child, clutching at his arm and stared blankly at nothing.

“He isn’t the only one like that,” spoke a new voice.

Another man stepped in from the open door with others at his heels, looking very authoritive and stared disgustedly at the babbling wizard. His face showed marks of combat and those at the bar stood silent at his presence.

“Macnair’s no better,” snapped the man, “We’ve got him restrained… all he wants to do is tear is eyes out… screaming for his master… any idea as to why?”

Dumbledore just stood and nodded his head in welcoming, stating, “I would not know… Aurors don’t answer to me.”

The man scowled at Dumbledore, “I’m being told that Potter… the Harry Potter is blasting away dark wizards and witches in his path.”

Dumbledore gave the man a deep stare.

“I’m also being told that Dementors are being injured if not possibly even killed by three Patronuses… one which is strangely in the form of a werewolf, “ continued the wizard quite angry, “Explain to me how a boy, Harry Potter or not, is doing this? I’m even being told that magic doesn’t work against him… that spells just bounce off, doing nothing.”

Dumbledore thought a quick moment then asked in return, “Are you sure only dark wizards have been harmed by Harry?”

This question seemed to enrage the man further as he shouted back, “I lead the Aurors here and I am demanding an answer from you now! Or will see how talkative you are at the ministry, removed from your position.”

McGonagall now spoke up, her every word seething, “Mr. Derricks… how dare you speak to Albus that way… you were barely out of the Academy when he was fighting against you-know-who!”

The Derricks was about to respond when Dumbledore snapped his fingers roughly, both stopped and waited.

“Let us cooperate… or even less will be achieved, “ordered Dumbledore speaking fiercely, “Charlie hold him still please.”

It was the first time Hermione had ever heard Dumbledore be so forceful.

The Headmaster reached into his robes and pulled out an old hat. He placed his hand deep inside, deeper than the hat should have allowed and withdrew a small but old basin with an odd liquid in it. Hermione recognized it right away to be a Pensieve. Charlie set the wizard in a chair and held him in place as Ana came up to him, holding a bag of ice to his eye. Dumbledore placed his wand against the wizard’s temple and a colored strand was pulled out. The headmaster dipped the strand into the Pensieve and stirred it while whispering a chant.

A misty fog as before rose up from the Pensieve and a scene illuminated within the mist. From the wizard’s eyes they saw an old building and through the windows saw a fire beginning to rage inside.

“Mathews and his brother are in there, “yelled someone off to the side, “That thing will finish them off unless we do something.”

The wizard, whose memories they were witnessing, shouted, “Hit the place with everything you’ve got… the master orders were clear in the letter… Potter finished off.”

“But Mathews,” countered the voice from the side, “And his brother?”

“Martyrs… now blast it,” shouted the wizard!

Spells were spoken and unleashed from wands, striking the building. An explosion followed as their bearer of the displayed memory was knocked off his feet. They watched as he sat up and looked into the blaze. The building was mostly engulfed in flames, but one area that was all dark except for two blood red eyes.

They watched a wand come into view but at the sound of a hiss, the wand flew away into the darkness baring the red eyes. The bearer of the memory sat there and watched as a boy with jet black hair flat against his head stepped out. His robes were burned and shredded, patches of blood all over his clothes and menacing scowl on his face as he approached the wizard. Defenseless now, he could only watch as Harry walked up to him and seized his arm. Barely a second passed before he started screaming. The boy reached into the wizard’s robes and withdrew something. The wizard continued to scream even after Harry released him, clutching at his arm. The boy brought his wand into view and all went black. The mist shrunk back down into the Pensieve, signaling the end of the memory.

“Charlie,” asked Dumbledore, “Please remove his sleeves.”

Charlie did as asked with a look of puzzlement and literally tore the sleeves of the wizard’s fore arms off. On the wizard’s right arm was the dark mark, but it was burned clear through, leaving a hole from one side to the other in the very shape of the mark.

“Well that would explain why some of them started screaming… and holding their arms,” snapped Derricks, then with forced calmness, “Now do I get an answer? I’ve only known of one other wizard that could do some of these things but he’s been dead for fourteen years. So why is Potter, his defeater, suddenly doing the same things?”

Dumbledore stared at the wizard’s mark a moment then gave Hermione and Ron a hard examining look.

“I know you want an answer… and I will be glad to give it,” replied Dumbledore, “But it will have to be when there is one to give… so only dark practitioners of magic have been harmed?”

“Every seriously injured person… other than Dementor we’ve found, “answered Derricks in gritted teeth, “Has the dark mark on their arms… so I suppose the answer is yes.”

A thin smile came to Dumbledore’s face as he returned with, “I do not know everything for sure… but I suspect we are seeing part of why Voldemort was unable to kill Harry as a child… the Orb he used in the Museum’s fall accelerated his magical growth prematurely… and the Dementors have forced all his repressed rage to lash out… along with something else… something that was connected to that rage and may be responsible for why it was all repressed… but again much of that is speculation right now… if I wanted to be hasty I would say another Degarus has been released.”

Derricks gave Dumbledore a strange glare and answered with, “That’s only a legend… a child’s bed time story.”

“The Chamber of Secrets was only a legend as well, “stated Dumbledore, “But that has been proved otherwise… and many times in history has the same scenario been played out… one whose arises from the ruins brought on by the dark ones… how different is Harry’s life in comparison to that?”

Derricks took a few steps forward, looking over Hermione and Ron then looked back to Dumbledore.

“Only the shadows littered the ground,” stated Dumbledore as if quoting something, “No beast was struck by the fury unleashed.”

Derricks simply turned and walked back to the door, his Aurors gathering near him.

“Let’s go,” snapped Alan his attitude suddenly changing, “Let’s get out there and finish the job in time for tea.”

Encouraged, all but one who Alan held back rushed out the door. Hardly any yelling could be heard now and the skies did not show the flashes of many spells being cast. However the storm outside still raged on without showing any sign of weakening.

“Well… out with it… what did you find,” snapped Derricks?

The Auror Alan had held back gave Bill a look and whispered, “There’s a definite sign of a struggle… but all we found were two dead out front.”

“And,” continued Alan?

“We didn’t find the girl,” continued the young Auror, “The two found dead… one has his throat slashed… the other one has a bite… a vampire bite.”

“What girl,” injected Charlie?

Derricks nodded the young Auror off and turned to Charlie.

“I sent a group to your house upon the start of this to check out Moody’s story,” answered Alan,” So I’m talking about your sister.”

“Ginny,” shouted Bill, “Where the hell is Daken then?”

“I don’t have those answers,” replied Derricks, “But I’ll look for her personally given what I know about her.”

“Not without us,” stated Charlie.

“Or me,” added Ron, “I’ve got to find Harry.”

“You’re staying here,” corrected Bill.

An angry scowl filled Ron’s face and with his hands to fists, shouted back “I’m not standing off and letting Harry go at this alone… I’m going with you to find him!”

“With what wand?” snapped Charlie, “You’re staying and waiting for the Aurors to bring him back.”

Ron just gave his brothers a nasty look but said nothing and watched them gather a few things before following Derricks out the door.

“They are right… for now that is,” spoke Dumbledore standing, “Be patient a little longer… and if there are no results… then we all shall perform our own search.”

“But every minute that passes,” shouted Hermione before Dumbledore cut her off!

“No,” stated Dumbledore speaking with unexpected force, “Believe me we’ll have better results if you all remain together… and in one place.”

Ron said nothing but crossed his arms and looked away. Rela looked uncertain as to what to say or do. And Hermione fought back the urge to shout again, feeling something ach again in her chest.

McGonagall gave Hermione’s shoulder another squeeze and she followed Dumbledore back to the bar of the pub. They watched their professor and Headmaster join into the conversation of the group.

“Well,” whispered an angry voice near, “Are we going to listen to them.”

Hermione turned to see Ron standing closer to her and Rela looking at him in surprise.

“No we’re not,” snapped Hermione fiercely, getting out the chair slowly, keeping her face away from the bar, “We’re not at Hogwarts… they can worry about the village but I… we… need to get Harry back.”

“There’s a back way out of here,” stated Ron plainly.

“Wait a minute,” whispered Rela desperately, “I’m not trying to stop you, but you won’t last a minute out there… not even you Ron… they took our wands remember?”

Ron scowled, looking away and Hermione scrunched her face in disapproving agreement, until a thought came and her face brightened a bit.

“Ron,” inquired Hermione quietly, “Maybe Ana works this pub like Muggles do their own?”

Ron gave her a look and Hermione continued with, “When Muggles have a bit too much, they often have to give up their keys to their automobiles but what happens when the Magical get sloshed?”

Ron and Hermione both looked towards the bar and Rela could see they both had the same thought.

“We need a distraction,” whispered Hermione, her expression showing the endless thoughts coursing through mind at the moment.

“No… we need a drink… I could go for some pumpkin juice right now, “replied Ron casually, then giving Rela a smile he finished with, “And maybe Ana could use a hand getting some for the kids in here?”

Rela nodded and smiled weakly as she walked off towards Ana as the woman was attending to a group in the corner. A minute later Rela returned and informed them Ana thought the idea to be marvelous.

Hermione waited by the table as Ron and Rela walked towards the bar, quickly joined by Ana. She watched them as Ana directed Rela to where more mugs and goblets lay and Ron to where a barrel of pumpkin juice awaited. Ana left them as she went to help another group coming in. Through the crowd, Hermione watched Ron duck under the wood of the bar and popped back up a second later. Hermione had to smile a little as she watch them walk past the group of Aurors, their professor and Headmaster, Ron easily carrying a large barrel and Rela balancing a tray loaded with as many goblets and mugs she could muster.

Ron placed the barrel on its side onto a rack and as he had done with the same ease as the wine bottle for his father, Ron slapped a nozzle into the barrel. The children apparently had been informed by Ana at some point during this as they began to gather around them. Soon enough Ron and Rela joined Hermione at the table with three goblets of pumpkin juice.

Sitting at the table, Rela looking nervous, Hermione just stared ahead until Ron, sipping casually away, handed her something wrapped in tissue.

“Cinnamon stick,” asked Ron?

“You were supposed to get,” started Hermione disappointed until she unwrapped the tissue and found a wand rather than a cinnamon stick.

“Now what,” whispered Rela slightly frantic?

“We leave,” stated Ron, nodding in a direction, “There are stairs over there by that door in the corner… Bill and I helped out here during the summer after the storm… the basement got flooded… this place sits on the downside of a hill and there’s another door down there that leads out.”

Hermione didn’t say anything but stood up and walk briskly away. Ron followed a few seconds later but paused and looked back to Rela

“I can’t… I,” whispered Ron trying to say something, pausing and finishing with, “I’m not going to ask you to come… I’ve been through too much with him to let anything stop that now… I’m sorry.”

As Ron had said, the door in the corner of the pub led to a basement with another awaiting them.

Hermione had just gripped the handle when they heard footsteps rushing towards them. Ron drew out his ‘borrowed’ wand and held it ready, determined to let no one stop him. To their surprise Rela descended the stairs and rushed towards them.

“Rela,” inquired Ron but she interrupted him, covering his mouth with her hand?

“Is a Crucio not enough?” said Rela and kissed Ron’s cheek, adding, “You promised me that you wouldn’t leave me out of anything… and you’re going to keep it.”

Ron said nothing in return but his ears shaded. Rela withdrew her own ‘borrowed’ wand and Hermione pulled open the door. Rushing out, the door slammed behind them just as someone else descended the stairs.

“By Merlin’s beard,” spoke a woman in horror as she rushed by up the stairs?

A moment later, a slightly disheveled McGonagall appeared by Dumbledore’s side.

“Albus,” whispered McGonagall frantically, “They’ve snuck out the back.”

Dumbledore closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

“Life and magic must have some strange things planned this day,” replied Dumbledore with a slightly exasperated tone, “Otherwise if their patience had held only a few moments longer their quest would already be over.”

“How,” asked McGonagall?

Dumbledore opened his eyes and looked ahead, nodding in the direction of the door. McGonagall turned her sight and along with many shocked gasps, saw what Dumbledore had meant.

A teenage boy walked into the pub from the outside. Saying nothing, he looked around and spotted Hermione’s sweater on a nearby table. He walked towards it, ignoring all those around him. One of the Aurors drew his wand but Dumbledore grabbed his arm. A female Auror approached the boy but he gave a look that forced her to stop in mid stride. The boy reached out and picked up the neatly folded but wet and dirty green sweater, letting it drape around his hand. He took another look around before turning and walked back out. Dumbledore gave McGonagall a look and they ready their wands, following the boy.

Unaware of how much time was passing, Hermione, Ron and Rela raced through the streets of the village. Ducking into stairways and alleys continuously, hoping to prevent being captured or seen. After a while they had to stop and catch their breath. At least Rela and Hermione need to where as Ron hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Bloody hell,” snapped Ron, “I’ve lived here all my life and been in this village a thousand times but I have no idea where to go.”

“Well,” breathed Rela, “Maybe we should just look wherever there’s any fighting?”

Staying quiet, they could hear a few shouts in the distance.

“Sounds like it close to the mayor’s house,” spoke aloud Ron.

With direction, they inspired to drive on. That was until they passed a narrow alleyway.

“What was that,” called out Rela as she stopped and headed back?

Ron and Hermione said nothing but followed, looking down the narrow alleyway. There a red headed girl stood in the center of a junction of narrow alleyways like the one they were looking through.

“That’s Ginny,” whispered Ron, loudly, surprised!

Without word, he headed down the alleyway with the others close behind. His red head sister saw them and gave them a look of absolute horror. She seemed to yell something but they didn’t hear her words.

“Ginny are you alright,” shouted Ron with ease while Hermione and Rela drew rapid breath?

Ginny said nothing but gave them a very apologetic expression and nodded to her feet where a chain linked to a stone locked her foot. Ron was about to inquire further when Rela seized his arm, her skin paling as far as it could go. Hermione heard something to her side and turned.

“This is unexpected… a trap for Aurors instead ensnares Potter’s following… I guess it’s true… there is more than one way to draw out a hippogriff,” sneered a wizard, stepping from a corner of dark alley way behind Ginny, “Isn’t that right?”

“Oh yes… use fresh bait,” chuckled another wizard sinisterly, stepping closer to Hermione’s side from yet another alleyway.

“Or use one of its own,” growled again another wizard, stepping into view at Rela’s side.

Three wizards, wands drawn ready, surrounded them. Ginny seem to make a comment but no sound left her lips and it was then easy to realize that the dark wizards had used the silencing charm on her. Leaving her out in the open to be seen as young girl alone but not able to warn anyone away from the impending trap.

“What should we do with them then,” sneered another walking up the same alleyway they had come?

Now four wizards, three with their wands drawn, and one blocking the route they had taken drew closer.

“You’re a pretty one,” sneered the wizard, drawing his wand level with Rela’s chest and poking at the opening of her blouse, “How did you get mixed up with this lot?”

Rela’s face twisted to a scowl, her eyes suddenly showed little fear if any to the wizard. The breeze had begun to pick up around them as Rela stared down the wizard.

She instead snapped back with, “I’d rather another go with a Crucio.”

“That can be arranged,” snarled the wizard?

Ron’s hand curled to fists and there no mistaking a sudden rise in the temperature around them.

“Shut it,” spoke the one behind them at the dark alleyway,” We were told to hold them if we ran into this lot… only hold them.”

As Hermione thought quickly as to what options they heard a low growl reached her ears and with Ron looked behind them. The wizard guarding the rear at the darkened alleyway turned and all of them could see past him to a pair of faint silver glimmers.

“What is that,” inquired the wizard?

Unfortunately for him, those few words were all that could be uttered. The fabric of his robes became stretched at being seized from behind and they watched as he was pulled into the shadows. A moment of scuffling could be heard but ended quickly with silence.

The confusion drew their captors’ attentions and Ron used the advantage of it. Turning with his fist drawn and ready, Ron landed a blow to the one nearest him. The cracking of something like bone was heard as the wizard slammed hard against the wall a short distance behind him. He made no sound or movement aside from sudden labored breathing.

Rela followed in suit with Ron’s actions, delivering a decisive kick into the lower regions of her holder’s groin. He dropped to his knees in pain uttering only a horrid moan as the color drained from his once smug face to only a look of shock. He had little time to dwell on the sudden suffering as almost as soon as his knees had hit the ground. A rock, held by the silenced Ginny, smacked against the side of his head and sent him into un-conscientiousness.

Three of their captors had now been dealt with as one remained at Hermione’s side. However, unlike the prior three, the remaining wizard was quicker and Hermione couldn’t use the advantageous moment to defeat him. Instead, Hermione found herself at wand point of the remaining captor.

“Hold it,” ordered the wizard, his wand level with Hermione as Ron made to advance.

Ron held his place and Rela moved to his side, with Ginny following.

“What is it with you brats,” he growled, “You’re like nested pixies.”

He surveyed them but never wavered in his position to strike down Hermione in an instant. He gave the girl before him another look over and fixated his glare. Reaching out he seized something on Hermione’s robes, ripping the material as he pulled it away.

“A prefect, “he scoffed, glancing at the badge lying in his palm and snickered dismissively with, “You must think pretty highly of your-self? I once knew a girl who became prefect... she was nothing more than a tart little wench… is that how you got this?”

Strangely Hermione seemed unfazed by the threatening wand, glaring back without hesitation and made no reaction to his insinuations.

“I earned it,” calmly responded Hermione, “With books… ever read one?”

“Probably not or they’d been more prepared,” jeered Ron, glaring with a scowl and snickered with, “Instead of Harry knocking them about like pathetic imps.”

The wizard lost the smirk on his face, replacing it with a look of disdain.

“I’ll admit we weren’t prepared for Potter’s sudden little tantrum,” sneered the wizard, gripping his wand tighter, seemingly preparing to use a spell, “But that won’t stop us from putting him in his place… in the ground… with his filthy Mud blood mother… I’m so tired of hearing about Potter.”

His words cultivated sudden anger in Hermione. As it happened, she felt something burst from within and flow out. It came like a crawling sensation, spreading out under the skin and breeding quickly. Rather than be worried, she felt driven in strange fashion to end the threat before her and take back what she wanted.

“You want to know what I’m tired of,” sneered Hermione in an unusual darken tone through gritted teeth?

A tone not even Ron had ever heard as he turned and stared. Hermione’s dirty hands clamped to fists, even her knuckles cracked and her jaw was clenched just as tight.

The wizard stared in mocked awe but quickly became worried confusion as the brown eyes of the Muggle born witch in front of him began took on a glow, snaking along the veins of her eyes.

“For four years all you lot have done is bring us grief… bring Harry grief,” sneered Hermione, continuing.

The wizard took aim wand but as he prepared to speak a spell, the wood of the wand cracked from tip to handle, making it useless. Hermione, undeterred, advanced on him.

“Took his parents from him… and he had to stay in a horrible place because of that,” added Hermione.

A strange silence came for a moment but ended with a low rumble. Rela stood by Ron and they both watched as the vines along the alleyway walls began to wiggle slightly.

“But it’s not enough is it?” snapped Hermione, “Have to have another go at it the moment he comes back?”

The wizard dropped his useless wand and backed away. He made a motion towards the alleyway behind him but the events taking play sought to it to prevent his exit.

The ground cracked and the stone walk split, spreading from the ground up the along the corners of the buildings. The wood, brick, masonry and anything else gave way, piling into the small path, blocking the corridor with the only exit being past Hermione.

With every moment that past, Hermione’s expression darkened along with her voice, she looked positively seething.

“Trolls… murderous snakes… criminals and dementors,” snarled Hermione but a strong hint of a sob to her tone, “Risked the tournament… gave up a win at Quidditch… so much of that for me… for all of us… and he still deals with all of you.”

Now the wizard look truly terrified, having no place to move away to and Hermione advancing like hungry beast.

“Now you have your damn master back,” snarled Hermione again, this time her pains seeping heavily into her tone as a tear slid down her cheek, “But you still won’t quit… not even let him have a holiday… and I wanted so badly to tell him.”

Hermione didn’t finish as something overcame her and she looked away. The wizard used this moment as an opportunity and lunged forward. However his attempt was cut short as something ensnared his neck, pulling him back, tightening in the process. Hermione returned her gaze, not even bother by his move and looked upon with an expression of hatred and anger that even made part of Ron twist in response.

A vine had lashed out from the wall behind him and wrapped it-self around the dark wizard’s neck, moving with the motion of a whip. It pulled the helpless wizard back towards the wall with little effort. As it drew him closer, it coiled more and more around his neck. They watched as he tried to wrench the vine away but its thickness did not relent to him but only served to inspire the diligence of the gripping action.

“Maybe we’ve been too nice about it all,” whispered Hermione, her tone strange and quiet, “Maybe we ought to take a page from your books?”

With that comment, the wizard’s face stare in horror and a cracking sound followed the slowing gasps of breath.

“Hermione stop,” shouted Rela grabbing her arm, “Stop it.”

“Why,” rounded Hermione?

Rela looked at the enraged girl in surprised and answered, “The more time you waste on him... the less we’ve got to find Harry.”

In a strange instant, everything seemed to stop as Hermione took a breath in surprise at having been reminded of their quest.

The vine loosed, sliding off the wizard’s neck as he placed one hand on the ground for support, breathing hard and desperately.

“Alright,” said Hermione, seemingly snapping to, “Lets get Ginny and find Harry.”

Rela drew her wand and used a spell to break the chain, holding Ginny’s foot.

“Why you… little,” spoke the wizard hoarsely, drawing another wand?

Ron moved but not fast enough, the wizard cast a spell of ropes around him and fell from losing his balance. He pointed his wand at Ron again and the tip began to glow green. Only a second before the spell would be cast, it faded away.

Ron’s eyes went wide but not at the wand pointed at him. Rather he was looking at the pile of stones as something illuminated the area above them. With no time to question, the stone shot out and a horrible cry filled the air as their insistent captor took the brunt of the stone blasted out. For a moment, there was only the sound of stone hitting the ground as dust clouded the air. As it cleared, a pile of stone, half burying their captor lay before them.

They looked past that to someone standing in the cleared alleyway, eyes as red as spilt blood and burning still in cold fury. Before Hermione dared anything, a sound of running steps reached her ears and she turned to see Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape arrive from the side. Dumbledore stopped and held his arms outstretched, halting McGonagall and Snape from going any further than he had.

Ignoring them, Hermione turned her attention back to the person she knew baring those eyes. Sounds of small taps came as the person walked towards them and they all watched Harry Potter emerge.

Simply put, Harry was a mess. Robes covered in ash, grime and any other filthy thing that could cling. His face was still naked of his glasses. His hair still lay unnaturally flat against his head and thin lines of blood trailed from the tip of his scar to the bottom edge of his cheek. Some trails were fresh, others were dried but they had continued since starting a short while ago. Patches of blood cluttered all over the blue trousers and torn brown polo shirt Harry wore.

He walked toward them, saying nothing and with little expression. Ron was the first to act and he moved quickly towards Harry. Unfortunately Ron’s movements were not so welcomed, as yet again a wand came to be point in his face but the bearer of the wand was his friend Harry.

“H… Ha…Harry,” stumbled Ron in surprise, “It’s me… Ron… we… we’ve been trying to find you.”

Harry eyes glared at him and the gripped on his wand tightened.

“Ron,” whispered Rela frightened, “Keep talking to him.”

“Harry,” started Ron, adding, “It’s me Ron… Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team… your mate since that first day on the train.”

Ron’s words seem to having no effect and Harry seemed to be getting impatient.

“You’re my best friend,” shouted Ron frantically, “You’re like a brother to me… Harry”

Ron stopped as Harry lowered his wand. Something in Ron’s words had caught Harry’s ear as the wand went back to his side. Harry took another step forward, in front of Ron and stared at him as if examining.

After a second or two of silence, Harry reached into his robes and pulled out another wand. But there was a difference as that it was a familiar wand, since it belonged to Ron. Reaching out slowly, Ron took the wand from Harry. With that Harry turned sharply to Rela, taking a second to stare, he then reached into his robes and pulled forth another wand, this time it was Rela’s. Hermione remained as Harry turned to her, this time his gaze wasn’t so strong in examination but it looked slightly confused. He took longer looking at Hermione and she couldn’t help but feel as though he was struggling with something, given his confused look.

After untold time, Harry took a few steps closing the gap between them to a considerably shorter distance. Now only an arm’s length of space divided them and Hermione felt something break within her. Harry stood before her, his eyes still the same but his actions still no different than the boy she knew that now caused her heart to stir.

Harry reached into his robes but she could wait no longer and threw her-self forward. The reaction she wanted did not come as before she could wrap her arms tight around him, Harry left off a grunting sound and pushed her back.

Shocked and pain filling in places she couldn’t describe began to overwhelm her as she watched Harry place his hand on his side, looking angry again, breathing hard.

Hermione tried to approach again more slowly but after a step, Harry went still, turned his head and straightened up again. But the scary part of it was that as he did that, he brought his wand into aim again.

Frozen in place in a concoction of emotions like fear, surprise, hurt and more, Hermione could only stare back. Harry said something in Parseltongue but since she did not know the language Hermione could do nothing. Harry spoke words again but with greater fierceness and tightened the grip of his wand. But still she couldn’t do anything but stare.

“Hermione,” shouted Rela in horror, “Move!”

“He won’t hurt me,” assured Hermione, though her voice showed the opposite feeling.

“Not Harry,” shouted Rela again,” But!”

Rela wasn’t able to finish as a flash lit up the small intersection of alley ways with a terrible green light. A crying out filled the air along with a nasty sound of something breaking.

For that moment time seem to stop. All those present became entranced as the light from a spelled faded away and a hissing smoke steamed from sizzling black mark burned into a far wall. Hermione lay on the ground with Harry rising from above her.

The rumbles of thunder and the cracks of lightning stirred everyone from their trance. Ron looked on in disbelief as Hermione laid, un-stirring, on the ground and Harry standing at her side. Ron couldn’t believe what Harry had done and what seemed to have happened until he saw where his enraged friends’ attentions were drawn to.

In the small alleyway behind where Hermione had stood, was someone with their wand held fast and bit of smoke escaping from the tip. His eyes taking in the scene of Erickson standing against a wall, covered in his own blood from the wounds inflicted before, his other hand swinging freely at his side and breathing in tiny gasps.

Ron’s mind replayed the event over as Harry dropped his own wand and lurched forward. Grabbing Hermione, he wrenched her to the ground as the sounds of something breaking and Hermione’s cry were followed by the blinding green light of a death curse.

“Well,” spoke Erickson between gasps, “Missed you…got that…little wench… I won’t… miss again.”

Erickson readied his wand again, though it shook heavily. Harry stood and closed the distance between them quickly. Harry grabbed the wand before Erickson could finish the spell and yanked it from his hand. As before, Harry’s hand snapped it and they watched it gray to ash, blowing away in the breeze.

With the wand suffering the fate like so many before it, Harry now held Erickson by his robes, pulling him away from wall bearing most of his weight. The crippled wizard hung from Harry’s grip and used his wand-less hand to try and pull free but with no success.

Ron watched as Harry’s other hand curled into a tight fist, now sparked with green flashes seen through the cracks of his fingers. Harry brought his fist up and drew it back, ready to strike.

Following some instinct, Ron ran forward and seized Harry’s arm, holding back his fist.

“Let him go,” grunted Ron, “He’s finished… you destroyed his wand… let Azkaban have him.”

Harry barely seemed to acknowledge Ron’s words.

“You’ll be no better than them,” shouted Rela!

Yet again, Harry barely acknowledged anything being said to him.

“Don’t,” said a girl’s voice and Ron looked to see Hermione sitting up, blood spilling slowly from a her leg as a piece of bone stuck out, having broken when Harry pulled her away from Erickson.

“Please don’t,” cried Hermione, clutching at her leg, “Don’t… don’t lose what you are by going any further.”

The tension in Harry’s arm loosened and Ron released it. Harry then released Erickson and the wizard slumped against the wall. His strength fading, he didn’t attempt to stand. His breathing still came in short gasps but in burst that were slowing down every second.

“So well… planned… yet… you escape,” spoke Erickson gasping, “No one… can be… that… lucky…. unless.”

Erickson coughed and blood spilled freely from his mouth as he slid further down the wall. His only functioning arm slid away from his chest and fell to the ground. His eye lids began to droop and his short gasps slowed even further to where noticeable time was elapsing between strained breaths.

McGonagall began to take a step but a hand touched her arm and she looked to see Dumbledore shake his head with a sullen look.

“Not a… wizard,” struggled Erickson, using the last of his strength to look at Harry, “You’re right… he’s like… the master… should… been… careful.”

“Albus,” whisper McGonagall desperately?

“He is too far gone,” replied Dumbledore with a tone to match his sullen face, “Even if we could save him, what future would he have since using the death curse? His fate would be sealed.”

Erickson closed his eyes and drew another breath but upon release he did not take another.

Harry grabbed the wizard and shook him, yelling something in Parseltongue.

Receiving no response, Harry released the body to slump back to the ground.

“Ronald,” spoke Dumbledore with earnest, “Get his wand… quickly.”

Ron lunged for the Harry’s wand, lying on the ground having been dropped but he couldn’t get it. The wand rolled away and shot from the ground back into Harry’s hand. Leaving the body as it was, Harry walked away towards the wizard he had half buried in stone. The man was beginning to come to but Harry stopped that with a quick stun spell. Having done that he snatched the man’s hand and wrenched it open, pulling something from it. Harry took a few steps towards Hermione but stopped, looking at her as Rela pressed against the wound with a handkerchief.

His faced scowled suddenly in disgust and anger seem to rise as a loud crack of lightning surged above them.

“Erickson,” growled a familiar voice as Daken came running up the alleyway?

He barely had to look at the wizard before Daken could guess his condition.

Looking back to Harry, Daken raised his wand and growled, “Why you…dark wizards not enough… now you kill Aurors!”

“No,” shouted Ron as stepped between Daken and Harry.

Daken let off a spell and Ron was hit near point blank. Rela nearly screamed as Ron flew by Harry’s side and slammed hard against the wall. Daken turned his aim back to Harry but received a surprise as he watched a spell launch from Harry’s wand. There’s was no doubt from the color, it was the Reductor spell but given its intensity, the spell was at least seven times stronger than usual and it hit Daken hard. It smashed him into and through the wall of the alleyway, deep into the interior of the building.

Harry stood with his wand ready, breathing even harder now and a deep scowl on his face.

The Headmaster handed his wand to McGonagall and walked slowly towards Harry. Ignoring the danger of Harry’s agitated state, the aged wizard simply smiled and continued on as though nothing worthy of worry existed, humming a quiet tune as he did. Harry stood in place, his breathing heavy and hard but made no movement only to watch the approaching wizard. Dumbledore placed his hand gently onto Harry’s shoulder, never stopping his tune or losing his smile. Harry turned his head to look Dumbledore in the face and did not notice as the Headmaster swiftly dropped something into Harry’s pocket. A swift swishing along with a quick breeze of wind and Harry vanished from the spot.

Hermione had barely a chance to respond at seeing Harry gone from her sight again when a crashing sound came. Broken panels of wood from a door in the junction landed nearby as Daken stepped from building Harry had just sent him through. The professors stared at him as he walked through and for once, Hermione could see the silver of his vampire eyes shine through the brown she normally had seen. Blood trailed from a deep gash above his left eye and his arm lay against his chest in way that looked very painful. Regardless of his obviously injured appearance, Daken still looked ready to fight and also extremely angry.

“Daken,” began Dumbledore but the vampire cut him off.

“I warned you… you senile old fool,” growled Daken, his teeth showing, four sharp points clearly visible, “Look what he’s done…I told you he’d snap and turn.”

“There are more details than what you know,” stated Dumbledore moving slowly towards McGonagall.

Daken took a few steps and Hermione watched as the deep gash above his eye slowly seal it-self as the vampire healing magic allows for. Daken was recovering and Dumbledore’s movements showed that he recognized that detail as well. Daken chuckled as his posture corrected it-self, now only his arm seemed left to be restored.

“Just as always… you still think there’s hope for everyone no matter what they do,” snapped Daken with a clear voice of disgust, “He killed Erickson… he’d only been here a few months… and that little bastard knows my opinions of avengement… and I won’t change it for anyone… not even him… not anyone.”

With speed not expected of one his age, Dumbledore snatched his wand readily available from McGonagall’s hand and released a spell towards Daken. Catching Dumbledore’s movement from the corner of her eye, Hermione had looked away from Daken. Following the spell release she watched it hit a wall behind Daken once had been. The vampire professor was gone from sight. Hermione remembered easily from her books that vampires’ were gifted with great speed and sight which means Daken was not unaware of Dumbledore’s plan.

McGonagall rushed to Hermione and mended the broken bone while Dumbledore released Ginny from the silencing spell, asking of her condition. Rela was helping Ron back to his feet, surprisingly having little trouble from the hit he had taken other than a mark on his shirt.

Dumbledore whispered something to Snape and the potions master rushed off in the direction they had come. In turn Dumbledore walked quickly to Hermione.

Before she could say anything, Dumbledore started, “I put a Portkey into his pocket and sent him off away from here but we have little time to spare before Daken determines where.”

“Then where did you send him,” asked Ron, his voice burning with anger but trying to remain civil?

“I cannot say,” answered Dumbledore and raised his hand before Ron’s protest escaped his lips, “We do not know what ears are listening.”

Ron seemed to understand but his expression showed that his anger was not subsiding. Dumbledore reached into his pocket within his robes and pulled out a small sack. He reached out and picked up Hermione’s hand and placed the bag into her palm.

“This will lead you to him,” continued Dumbledore, his look very concerned but with a strange happiness, “But remember… the chains… the bonds… you have formed still remain… they cannot be broken by Dementors or the vile acts of the heartless… the events here clearly show that… regardless of what Harry seems to have become… he is still Harry… even this part of him that has been freed is still bound by that… bound by the emotions you each share with him… separately but also in combination.”

Ron and even Hermione stared at the Headmaster in response but Hermione closed her fingers around the small bag and felt small bits of things inside.

Ron turned slightly and looked at Rela behind him but she placed her arm in his.

“Harry may not know me that well nor I him,” responded Rela, “But all of you have made me feel like I’m apart of something for once… so I’m going too.”

She placed a kiss on Ron’s cheek and looked hopeful to Hermione.

“Then lets go,” stated Hermione with a smile to Rela.

“I want to come too,” shouted Ginny but McGonagall held her back!

Ron looked to his sister and stated with a touch of forced humor, “Tell mum that we’re bringing Harry back for the holiday.”

Turning back, Ron whispered to no one but Hermione and Rela heard him clearly, “No matter who I have to go through.”

Dumbledore gave them a very pleased look and placed the tip of his wand on the bag enclosed in Hermione’s hand.

“I have no doubt that help will be there," Dumbledore as he tapped the bag.

As the pulling sensations around their mid-sections came, they heard Dumbledore’s last words.

“Just look around.”

With that the trio vanished like Harry and McGonagall led Ginny to stand with the Dumbledore.

“What shall we do now,” asked the professor?

“We’ll let them handle Harry, “stated Dumbledore, “While we deal with what has happened… in the Aftermath.”

Next Chapter

Into Twilight

28. Into Twilight

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note: I really do apologize for the considerable wait on this chapter. I had no intention of talking so long. Someone even posted in a review if I had been Obliviated. Truth is, I am taking college courses and working at the same time. If anyone reading is in high school or taking college your-self than you know how much of a killer finals can be. For me this was fall was the worst semester of it. Once mid-terms were over, it was just insanity after that. I could only write pieces and used the November holiday to correct them. Since finals I have been putting the pieces of this chapter together and have it ready for you all. So I again apologize and I am honored that you are still reading this story.

I think I said it before about the offices, but I’m not sure. I think the offices are both connected to the classrooms in some way and I think they’re also the living quarters for the professors. If I’m wrong well then I ask that you let the ignorance slide.

There’s going to be a bit of ‘bad press’ on Germany in this chapter and if there are any Germany readers out there please note I bear no grudge. I actually picked Germany as the place of Rela’s original schooling because I took German in high school and it’s a wish to visit the country some day.

Lastly I mentioned in a chapter previously that I suffered a major computer crash back during that virus trouble. Since restoring my files and operating system, I was not able to recover my email address books. I know I had like three beta readers but I do not have your email addresses. If you wish to still be my beta reader than please email me again or if a reader now would like to be a beta reader than please feel free to inquire. My email address is itmonster@hotmail.com and please make the subject “HP Beta.”

Revised 1/12/04

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 28

Into Twilight

The moment of nothingness passed, replaced by the late evening light along with the white of a snow covered ground. As their eyes adjusted to the view, they found them-selves near a set of large old gates. Their school, Hogwarts stood in the distance and for once looked more of a haunting nature than welcoming. No light emanated from the windows and the usually bright walls were dimmed in shadow. Few clouds were in the sky but thunder still rumbled faintly in the distance, as if warning of a danger that lay within.

“Well, “spoke Ron, clearing his voice, “Let’s go then.”

Rushing, they trudged through the snow, the crunch of their shoes and rippling of fabric was the only sound between them. Approaching the gates, the disturbing impressions grew as it made motion to open. Stopping in front of it, waiting but still the gates did nothing.

Surveying the gate, Ron pointed at a set of tracks passing through the gate entrance as well as marks in the snow from the gats swinging open and closed earlier.

“So why won’t the gates open now,” asked Ron quietly?

“Maybe Harry locked them,” answered Rela unsure, “Maybe he knows Daken is after him?”

“Well to open a lock,” started Ron, withdrawing his wand and shouting, “Alohomora!”

The latch rattled lightly for a moment but did not unlock.

“The spell must be too strong for that,” spoke Rela concerned.

“Fine,” snapped Ron, pocketing his wand and taking a tight grip of the bars, “I’ll do it the hard way.”

Hermione opened her mouth to interject but stopped as a high pitch groan of metal ringed in her ears. Ron was pulling at the gates and the metal was beginning to bend, slowly and loudly but with resistance. Each time Ron tried to readjust his grip to pull further, the metal began to return to its original state. For a few minutes, the two witches just watched as Ron enacted his own private skirmish with the gates to gain entry to Hogwarts. But after awhile, either because of the cold or frustration, Ron let go and said something fierce but inaudible.

He made ready to have another attempt but Hermione intervened grabbing Ron and stepping between him and the gate.

“This is taking too long,” declared Hermione, “And we don’t have time.”

Rather than respond, he just gripped the bars and began to pull again. This time Ron was more determined and the groan the gates gave signaled the intensity involved but it was still taking time.

“Ron we need another way,” insisted Hermione harshly, shaking her head, starting to finish with, “There has to be another.”

“Well what do you suggest then,” shouted Ron, cutting her off, turning, “Ask it nicely! How the hell can you be so calm?”

“What makes you think I‘m calm,” retorted Hermione fiercely, “I need to get to him just as bad as you!”

Ron’s face contorted, something flashed in his eyes and the same occurred with Hermione. Both looked ready to continue on but Rela stepped in.

“Calm down,” cut in Rela, looking at both of them, “Neither of you will be able to do anything for Harry by wasting your energy on each other… Ron, she’s right, you’ll be at it forever just trying to rip it open and it’ll let others in… but Hermione we don’t have many options either.”

Ron just looked away with his fist clenched and Hermione dropped her gaze.

“Then we need help,” whispered Hermione in a defeated like tone.

Almost as if acting upon a cue, a loud whining reached their ears and drew their attention to the gate. Following the sound, they looked on to see large, white creature trot up from behind the gates. It neighed again and before them, stood a white horse a magic horn adorning its crown, a creature known to the world as a unicorn. Though they had only see this one once before, Hermione recognized it immediately.

“Nubius,” questioned Hermione in surprise, walking up to the gate with Rela in tow?

The unicorn shook its head, letting her mane swish in the cold breeze as she lowered her head. Nubius placed the tip of her horn to the latch. The metal rattled as the handle scraped back and forth against the side. Slowly the latch began to slide, screeching loudly as the spell that held it resisted the unicorn’s influence. It only took another moment but the spell gave way and the latch slid freely into release. With the final clang, the gates began to open and Nubius back away beckoning them in with snorts.

As they entered, Nubius sunk to the ground, her legs giving way, her strength drained in battling the lock spell.

“Nubius, “whispered Hermione concerned, approaching the tired unicorn, “Are you alright?”

A hand gripped her arm lightly and Rela came into her side view, stating, “She’ll be alright, I think they’re here to help her.”

Rela pointed towards the forest and Hermione stared to see two more unicorns at the border.

“Thank you,” added Hermione to the unicorn as Rela pulled her away.

They ran as fast as they could, using what energy remained since their trip in Diagon Alley and the battle in village. As they approached the door to the main entrance, Ron drew his wand again but surprisingly the large doors opened upon their arrival.

Something bright with colors of red and orange greeted them with a musical chirp. Its presence filled the room with warmth that chased away the cold the winter day had seeped deep into their bones. Entering, Rela had to lean against a wall and Hermione held her sides as they breathed from the long run but Ron stood unaffected by the exerted endurance. Instead he just stared at the phoenix that welcomed them, perched at the base of the stairs by the entrance as its fire magic glowed around its form.

“Now… where,” breathed Rela,” It’s a… big castle.”

“The dormitory… or maybe an office,’ breathed Hermione in response, “Harry could… just about… be any where.”

A bird like screech made them look up to see a snow owl perched on a stairway leading to a section of Hogwarts pass Gryffindor house.

“A snow owl?” question Rela having caught he breath, “Is that one Harry’s?”

“Yes… Hedwig is Harry’s owl,” replied Hermione surprised and added in a hopeful tone, “And she always knows where to find Harry.”

Hedwig hooted again and flapped her wings as if impatient to their chatter.

“Alright Hedwig,” yelled Hermione, “We’re coming.”

“Not all of us,” added Ron, still looking at the phoenix as the bird had its gaze directed down a different corridor.

“What do you mean,” question Rela, a hurt tone to her voice, “Who’s not going?”

Ron turned to her and with a forced smile answered, “Me… I’m not going with you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Hermione, “We need you… Harry needs you… what could possibly make you not want to come?”

Ron didn’t look at Hermione but kept his gaze on Rela.

“You remember, “said Ron looking to RelaermioneHerm,Hermione but j kept jhishis gaze on RelaHer

, “Our project… the cards haven’t been wrong yet… a bird of flame will point the way.”

Though Hermione was curious to Ron’s odd words, she lost that curiosity to surprise when a fearful look crossed Ron’s face and he leaned forward, stealing a quick kiss from Rela’s lips. Without another word, he walked off down another corridor away from them and Fawkes flew off after him, following closely.

“Rela,” began Hermione, looking past her but stopped, when Hedwig screeched loudly again.

“He’s going after Daken,” spoke Rela quietly.

“But he’s a vampire,” inquire Hermione?

“He’ll be fine,” whispered Rela, her voice breaking slightly as she fought her emotions, “We should go.”

Hermione wanted to press the matter and disagreed with Ron going on his own but a certain truth kept her from it. Daken was after Harry and they wouldn’t be able to calm Harry if they had to deal with their professor at the same time.

Still she wanted to say something to help Rela but the girl’s gray, white eyes were wet with brimming tears and she was right, they couldn’t wait.

Hermione looked up to the awaiting owl and stated, “Show us the way.”

Hedwig took off without a single hoot, flapping and gliding as the witches rushed up the stairs following.

Up stairs and through corridors, behind paintings and through doors, they followed Hedwig until it seemed as if they had gone the length of the castle twice over.

Hermione didn’t voice it but she thought of how it could be possible for Harry to have gotten so far ahead of them. There had to be another reason as to how he moved so far, so fast.

Hedwig gave a hoot and Hermione stopped her thoughts to see the owl perch on to a dusty suit of armor. Beside it there was a door just as dusty as the armor except for the handle. It looked as though someone had touched it recently.

“Hermione,” spoke Rela for the first since leaving Ron and the entrance,” You don’t have a wand do you?”

Hermione looked at her and reached into her robes, realizing the answer. After Harry had pulled her away from Erickson, she had dropped the one from the pub and never picked it back up.

“Take mine,” added Rela holding her wand to Hermione, “According to Ron, you know every spell in the books.”

Hermione made a reach for the wand when a breeze blew by and stopped at a thought.

Shaking her head, Hermione responded with, “Harry won’t hurt me or you, so I won’t need it “

Rela readjusted the wand into her hand again and Hermione opened the door. Hedwig remained perched and Hermione took that to mean that the owl had led them to their destination. Inside they found themselves in a room lined with the crystal trophy cases, shields and suits of armor among the various statues and wall hangings. In the room were two doors, one off to the side and the other at the end. They walked in slowly and found that though the outside had been dusty, void of any recent cleanings, this room was just the opposite.

“There’s something not right about this,” question Rela whispering,” It’s almost as if this room shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah,” responded Hermione, “Like it was moved here or something.”

The crunch of glass beneath their feet ended their questioning conversation as they looked to find two plaques, one broken in half at their feet along with another one lying amongst shards of glass. With a quick glance, Hermione saw a trophy case next to them smashed into and a place for plaques outlined by a thin layer of dust. Rela bent down, picking up the plaques and almost dropped them gasping. She showed them to Hermione and she could see why Rela reacted. Both plaques were the same except for the names engraved.

Te first plaque read;

For Special Services to Hogwarts

Above and Beyond the Call of Wizardry

Harry James Potter

The one that was broken into two pieces when put together read;

For Special Services to Hogwarts

Above and Beyond the Call of Wizardry

Tom Marvolo Riddle

“Voldemort,” whispered Hermione, while remembering some of Erickson’s final words.

He’s like… the master.

“You’re wrong,” whispered Hermione with finality.

“Hermione,” questioned Rela in curiosity?

“Its nothing,” replied Hermione, her tone normal again.

Rela could tell both from Hermione’s words and her next action that the statement was not true. Hermione put the plaque with Harry’s name back into the trophy case but she dropped the other without any intention of putting it back.

“You take that door,” said Hermione pointing to the one off to the side, “And I’ll take the one at the end… if either of us sees Harry then we yell for the other.”

Rela nodded her head as Hermione turned and headed for the end of the room. Rela stepped over the broken and abandoned plaque, moving to the door to the side.

Hermione reached her door and prepared to turn the handle, stopping briefly. Touching the handle, Hermione found it to be ice cold, more so than the snow outside and that made her certain that this was the right door. Hermione glance over her shoulder and watched Rela walk through the other door. Rather than call out to her, Hermione simply finished turning the handle and let the door swing in. The creaking of the opening door swinging in seemed to resonate everywhere.

At first glance, the room was barren of any furniture. Cobwebs clustered the rafters and dangled from the edges of the walls. There were a few tiny windows, but a thick film covered the panes from years of collected dust and grime. Just a floor and walls of stone, covered in bits of webbing and aged moss was all it was.

-It looks more like a prison cell than anything, - thought Hermione, stepping in, shivering slightly.

Stepping across the threshold was much like the effect of using a port key. The room was just as cold as the handle and she felt it the moment she stepped in, like being ported from one place to other in an instant. Slowly, slightly shivering, Hermione walked into the room, looking in every direction her eyes would allow, just waiting for the slightest movement. Each step seemed to thud loudly against the stone no matter how lightly she stepped. She had gotten to about the center and still no sign of any other presence. Confused, Hermione made to turn around but a quiet hissing followed by a creak of metal froze her in place.

The creaking ended with a loud thud as the door closed had\rd. The click of the handle reached her ears and Hermione turned cautiously around, knowing what would be there but not sure if she was ready for it.

Beside the closed door stood someone in the dim light, a boy with trails of blood along one side of his ashen white face. He had eyes as red as that same blood, bright with fury and cold as hate, staring out from a face expressing untold contempt. His robes, still burned and torn, were stained with patches of blood.

Either by managing to slip around unnoticed or had been there all along, blocked by opening of the door, Harry now stood a short distance from her.

“Harry,” whispered Hermione, shivering a little more at his sight.

He said nothing but took a few steps forward, letting him-self be seen.

“Harry,” repeated Hermione, a breath of relief following her initial reaction and began to walk towards him adding sporadically, “I wasn’t sure if we’d find you… Daken… Ron’s trying to distract him… and Rela.”

Hermione had to stop, both in motion and speech, as an unexpected wand tip pointed only a few inches away from her face. Just shy of arms reach she had come before Harry had brought his wand into aim. All was quiet except for winds blowing outside the windows and the heavy breathing escaping Harry’s lips. Hermione tried not to look at the wand but to stare at Harry while her thoughts formulated something she could say or do.

“Harry… it’s me… Hermione,” she whispered quietly but no change in stature occurred.

With a thought she tried a different tact and mustered her more authoritive tone, speaking with, “Harry put the wand down.”

The only reaction she received was Harry’s eyes squinting to a glare and his hand tightening around the hilt of the wand.

Thoughts and questions ran rampant as she formulated a way to subdue Harry. Every idea she considered had little chance of working without a wand and the concept of using magic had little prospect in it-self.

-There has to be something, -thought Hermione frantically, -What else would work… what else would work… if not words?-

Still her thoughts came up with ideas with little chance and even when her mind rifled through memories, there seemed to be little hope.

But then a memory did come, a time in a small storage room, a private moment when something dear was given back to her and in turn Harry revealed a part of him-self to her. A revelation that came when she touched his cheek and Harry became vulnerable. How his face broke into expressions of pain and yearning. How he became lost to everything around. The thought was reinforced as she remembered that even Mrs. Weasley had calmed him just earlier that day with an embrace during his angered state.

The question that remained was what Harry would do if she tried anything but that worry diminished quickly, remembering Dumbledore’s words.

The bonds you have formed still remain... he is still Harry…bound by the emotions you each share with him.

Teeth bared and hunger evident when influence by Daken’s blood, Harry had not harmed her. In the village, Harry had sent them away and even though his actions were rough, he had pulled her away from the Death spell. Remembering this and more, counter the fear Hermione had and strengthened her resolve.

-Maybe, -questioned Hermione to herself,-All I need to do is move slowly?-

Moving as slowly as possible, Hermione raised her arm and placed a hand on Harry’s wand. Waiting for a resistance that did not come, she continued on, gently pushing his wand arm down. She dared a few more steps, each time keeping her hand on his wand arm, still pushing it down, letting it slide across and up his arm, keeping the wand away. With each step she could better hear his breathing, still heavy but now more labored. As the distance between them closed and Harry still remained inactive in response, Hermione felt more assured that he could be settled as before.

Mere inches away, Hermione brought her other hand up and gently but hesitantly placed it against his face. For the first moment, everything seemed to be at a standstill but that changed quickly. Harry’s eyes closed and his brow scrunched together. The expression of contempt faded and molded to something of yearning pain. Harry’s head tilted into her hand while he slowly rose his own, placing it upon hers and pushed Hermione’s touch harder against his cheek.

The tensions loosened and the remaining worries dissolved, Hermione moved forward even more and closed the final bit of space between them, letting the hand that held Harry’s wand arm slide onto his shoulder and over onto his back. She pulled him tight against her-self ignoring the discomfort from her hand still pressed against his cheek. Expecting the nightmare to be over, she received a rude awakening as Harry reacted harshly.

A loud hissing noise sounded in Hermione’s ear as she was suddenly pushed away. She fell down onto the floor and looked back up, expecting a wand to cast a spell a point blank. Instead he held one arm around his mid section and slouched over slightly.

Hermione felt something wet on her blouse and looked down to see a small patch of fresh blood on her lower side. She knew that she was uninjured but where would the blood come from. Looking back at Harry, preparing to get up again, the answered became clear. Harry was holding his midsection and was hunched over. He acted the same way in the village when she tried to embrace him.

“You’re hurt,” whispered Hermione in surprise, “Alan was wrong.”

Hermione stood up slowly, hoping not to move to fast as to make Harry react. He was beginning to straighten up again but his breathing was even heavier now, clearly taking breath was becoming a labored task for him.

Getting her footing back, Hermione walked towards Harry again, this time sure to avoid doing anything that touched his midsection. Harry didn’t raise his wand but he did back away slightly. Every small step Hermione took was met with Harry taking one away. With little distance from the wall, Harry ended with his back against and Hermione reached for his arm holding his midsection. Hermione placed her hand on Harry’s arm, gripping it gently began to pull it away. Harry gave no resistance and when his hand moved far enough, she came to she something sticking out creating a point in his shirt, blood was fresh around it. Hermione glanced at Harry’s face, seeing no resistance still; she gently pulled his shirt up to see the injury. A piece of curved bone had punctured through the skin, bleeding slowly. Hermione didn’t need to be a doctor to guess it was a rib bone and the reason why embraces hurt him along with the heavy breathing.

Suddenly hands gripped her arms and swung her around. In that instant, she felt her back slam hard against the stone wall. The speed of which all had occurred and the shock of such an unexpected change left Hermione momentarily stunned. Pinned, her arms held tight, all she could do was look into Harry’s face. His breathing was harder now and he seemed to be having trouble focusing his eyes as the lids seemed to droop.

Wondering what next to do, it was then she saw it, a wand protruding from within Harry’s robes near lower part of his side. Harry still held her arms but having no ideas, she relented to take a chance and use force to subdue him. With a quick shake, she wriggled in Harry’s grip to get enough freedom to seize the wand. Harry suddenly released one of her arms and Hermione looked at him in surprise, wondering what had brought on his sudden behavior.

Harry put his hand inside a pocket and withdrew something in a closed fist. Hermione wondered about going for the wand until Harry opened his hand in front of her.

Something small and metal lay in his palm. It was bent and the small pin was broken off but her initials were still on it along with the capitol p for Prefect. Hermione remembered, while her leg was broken, Harry had taken something from the wizard nearly buried in stone, the same who had ripped her badge away in the first place.

With her arm freed, Hermione disregarded her thoughts of the wand and reached for the badge Harry presented.

Harry’s breathing worsened to a high pitched wheeze and he staggered back a few steps and Hermione looked to see what Harry was going to do now.

“Harry,” inquired Hermione?

Harry gave a gasp and fell to his knees, putting is hand around his midsection again. Hermione rushed towards and lowered her-self to the floor placing one hand gently on his chest. Harry did nothing to respond, instead he just slumped forward and made no more motion of movement. Hermione caught him before hitting the floor face first but she had to wrestle him onto his back. Harry was a lot heavier than he looked she had c0me to realize.

Finally positioned onto the floor, Hermione pulled off her robe and bunched it under Harry’s head. His breathing was slow and a slight gurgling sound could be heard. Hermione decided to check his broken rib again and took hold of one the tears in his shirt. Slowly and gently still she pulled until it ripped his shirt completely open.

Hermione clamped her hands around her mouth, gasping at the sight that greeted her. Areas all over his chest were deeply bruised and cuts litter the spaces between.

“They were wrong,” whispered Hermione, “You were being hurt by the spells… the effects just weren’t taking.”

And she remembered Daken had commented that Harry seemed to be building a high endurance for pain, but this time that tolerance was reached and he couldn’t resist it anymore.

“I have to get you to the hospital wing,” spoke Hermione frantically to no one, looking into his robes for the wand she had seen.

“Miss,” said something behind her?

Hermione turned to find an elf wearing mismatched socks staring back with its ears dropping.

“Dobby,” inquired Hermione in surprise?

“Dobby help miss get sirs away from here,” stated the elf.

With a snap of its fingers, Harry’s injured frame was levitated into the air. Another snap and Harry’s form began to move into the air but away from the door.

Hermione stood up quickly to see Dobby leading Harry to another door in the room but she was sure there had been none other.

Before voicing her thoughts, Dobby spoke up, “Hurry miss, we must not linger.”

Hermione forgo her questioning and followed. The door opened and they found them-selves in a plush room, lined with shelves laden with potions, blankets and all kinds of things she had seen in the hospital wing before.

Hermione stayed as close as she could to Harry as Dobby guided them through another door on the other side, stopping only for Dobby to grab a blanket and put it over Harry. The door before them opened and Hermione found her-self being led into the corridor of the hospital wing.

As Dobby led them to the hospital wing, Hermione turned back to see where they had come out but there was only stone where there should have been a door.

“Where did the door go,” questioned Hermione as they moved down the corridor?

“School has many secrets,” answered Dobby simply without explanation.

Too concerned with Harry’s condition, Hermione let the answer quell her curiosity.

Walking into the hospital wing became a moment Hermione was sure she would never forget. At first, Madam Pomfrey rushed up to them with a cart laden with various potions and in near hysterics, directed Harry onto a bed nearby. She pushed Hermione away and pulled the curtain around. Immediately, Hermione could hear spells be cast and the pooping of corks from potions bottles. She too could also hear Madam Pomfrey in a quiet voice speak out with very definite opinions of the situation and of those who caused it.

Dobby stood by Hermione and pulled at her robe calling for her attention.

“No need for worry miss,” spoke the elf encouragingly with an elfish smile, “Sirs is badly hurt but he okay, just very tired.”

Dobby’s words and that Pomfrey was putting all her effort on Harry, alleviated Hermione for the moment.

Professor McGonagall stood on the other side of the room, quietly wringing her hands, her lips pursed as tight has her face would allow but her eyes gave away her disapproving thoughts. Hermione began to cross the room while Dobby stayed behind to assist Pomfrey, disappearing under the curtain.

Crossing the room Hermione found Daken sitting hunched over, clearly in pain. Burn marks spotted his exposed right hand and face in large black blotches. His good hand kept him steady on a bed while the burned one loosely held a set of parchments with a recently opened envelop. Rather than acknowledge their arrival, he just stared at the floor.

Ron sat on the opposite side glaring ahead silently. Rela stood by him looking very nervous. Ron didn’t have a mark on him, aside from his skin being very red with heat and considering Daken’s injuries, Hermione found that puzzling. There were singed edges and scorch marks on Ron’s robes. Thankfully Rela appeared to only be tired and otherwise unharmed from the trying day.

Hermione prepared to tell Ron what had occurred between Harry and her-self but was stopped at the glimpse of silver, blonde hair. Approaching Ron, she found what he was glaring at and why Rela was unable to get his attention. On the other side of Daken stood a boy about their age, glaring straight back at Ron, his demeanor no better than usual and not very receptive to her presence. Hermione decided not to interrupt Ron’s stare down with Draco Malfoy.

Maylen was on the farthest side of the room as well with McGonagall examining Ginny. Maylen had her hands on the underside of Ginny’s jaw and seemed to be checking the girl for something, since she was paying attention to the mouth and throat.

“Looks like there are no after affects,” stated Maylen plainly, bringing her hands to rest on Ginny’s shoulders.

At that point, Maylen turned to Hermione and pointed to the bed nearest McGonagall.

“Have a seat,” spoke Maylen in a fashion that suggested that she was not asking, “And lets have a look at that leg. Professor McGonagall says it had a nasty break earlier.”

Hermione did as asked but responded with, “Yes but the Professor mended it.”

Maylen pulled the curtain around and Ginny remained inside to help Hermione to shift position, so as to be able to comfortably put her leg up. Maylen pulled back the skirt and placed her hands on Hermione’s thigh. Squeezing gently in spots, she worked her way down Hermione’s leg towards her ankle.

“True,” replied Maylen, “But just because it was mended doesn’t mean its back to normal. It can break again if there’s too much strain.”

“Don’t you need a spell for that,” inquired Ginny puzzled at Maylen’s technique?

Maylen gave her a small smirk and replied, “You may learn in your own time that a female vampire’s touch is extremely sensitive. So I don’t need magic to tell me the condition of a bone.”

Ginny looked on in surprise and curiosity.

“That was a brave thing you did,” spoke Maylen seriously to Hermione, “Taking Harry on alone… from what McGonagall told me, he could have been… quite nasty… towards you in his state.”

Ginny gave a blank stare and Hermione simply answered, “He did get a little rough… but he never hurt me.”

Maylen chuckled and responded with, “If you say so.”

Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out the badge that Harry had again returned to her. Maylen paused in her examination and glanced at Hermione’s hand with curiosity.

Hermione closed her fingers around the badge, gave Maylen a stern look and explained with a tone void of doubt,” I don’t have any reason to be afraid of him… none of us need to be… not Ron… not Rela… not Ginny… if what happened today is any proof… than those who do need to be afraid of him… are those who try to hurt him… or us, apparently.”

Maylen just looked at Hermione a moment longer then continued her examination, looking away as she did.

Seemingly changing the subject, Maylen added humorously,” By the way I wanted to say it earlier but I think your Head of House would not approve… but I like that skirt. It seems a bit shorter than what witches usually wear. Mind telling me where you got it?”

Hermione turned her head, looking and realized suddenly that Ginny was wearing the skirt she had purchased at the Muggle store. All Ginny could do was blush a shade of red that almost matched her hair. Though Ginny answered quietly to Maylen’s inquiry, Hermione could only wonder why Ginny was wearing it. She was sure that Mrs. Weasley would not approve of it but then Hermione remembered that Mrs. Weasley hadn’t been home when they arrived back at the Burrow and when they left it as well.

There came a loud thud and the voice of an irate but worried woman followed.

Ginny sign quietly in both relief but also a soon-to-be-caught like tone “Mum.”

Maylen gave a slight giggle and responded with, “Come stand over here with me, there are dressing gowns in a cupboard in the office. We’ll sneak you in, get you changed and tell her that we sent your clothes off to be cleaned.”

Ginny gave Maylen a puzzled and hopeful look.

“I was once a girl your age too,” answered Maylen to Ginny’s puzzlement.

Ginny moved around the bed and Maylen pulled Hermione skirt back down.

“You’re fine but no more running around for a few days,” stated Maylen as reached for the curtain, “Don’t get down, Pomfrey may want a look at you.”

Maylen pulled the curtain around, pausing a moment as she looked out then finished and then pulled Ginny along her side, hurriedly into the nurse’s office. It was good timing as Mrs. Weasley had her back turned to them talking to Pomfrey, who stood outside the curtains, apparently telling Mrs. Weasley of Harry’s condition. Maylen closed the door to the office with Ginny inside. McGonagall must have been too bothered by recent events as she never seemed to notice Ginny and her sudden departure from the room.

A minute later, Pomfrey disappeared behind the curtain again and Mrs. Weasley walked towards. A very upset look in her eyes but a relieved expression as well.

Hermione had moved to sit on the edge of her bed and Ron managed to finally break up his glaring contest with Draco to look at his mother.

Timing at Hogwarts was remarkable as the doors to the hospital wing opened again. Pomfrey popped her head out but just as quickly popped it back behind the curtain. Dumbledore and Snape entered into the room. Dumbledore was reading from a parchment and Snape was opening an envelope, giving the letter a quick glance.

“St. Mungo’s confirms it,” spoke Snape to the Headmaster, “No chance of recovery.”

Dumbledore just gave him a glance, looked back to the letter in hand before giving it to Snape.

“Please take this and the others to my office,” replied Dumbledore sullenly,” And await me there in case any try to contact me through the fireplace… I must direct my attentions here first and then I’ll see to the replies.”

Snape said nothing but took the letter from Dumbledore. He started to turn around but pause at seeing Draco then continued on, saying nothing.

Before saying anything even a greeting, Dumbledore stepped behind the curtain hiding Harry with Pomfrey and Dobby. Everyone just waited, there were a few times that Pomfrey could be heard raising her voice while her shadow moved around Harry, responding to Dumbledore’s inquiries. After a few minutes, he stepped back out and began to cross the room.

Dumbledore started to pass by Daken but stopped when the burned vampire spoke.

“You must think this is really funny,” growled Daken still staring at the floor?

Rather than acknowledge Daken’s insulting tone, Dumbledore responded quietly with, “Not At all, I would rather have resolved this sooner… you had a right to be upset… but you acted without knowing all that could have been known.”

Daken just growled at the floor and Dumbledore continued walking on.

He paused again in front of Rela and Ron, asking, “No injuries I assume?”

Rela just shook her head and Ron replied, slightly nasty, with, “I’m fine, thank you.”

Mrs. Weasley had come to stand by Hermione but had not yet said anything because of Dumbledore’s arrival but she looked appalled to Ron’s response.

“Just remember one thing for me Ronald,” spoke Dumbledore un-phased by Ron,” Its not just humans that make mistakes… or act rash… times like today are often full of those who do just that.”

Ron’s features lighten and started to respond to Rela.

Dumbledore looked over to Draco, raising his brow in question and simply stated, “Thank you… wasn’t that hard now was it?”

Draco just glared at the Headmaster and said nothing.

He continued on until reaching McGonagall and asked, “All is well with our students?”

“It is most certainly not,” snapped McGonagall, surprising those nearby, stammering with,” The danger… the destruction… first Hermione… then Harry… plus Ronald… even Rela and Ginny… its enough to make someone go mad.”

“Calm your-self,” replied Dumbledore in an encouraging tone, “Yes much has happened… bad and good… but we need only worry of their care now.”

“But Harry,” protested McGonagall but Dumbledore cut her off?

“Injuries are not severe,” interrupted Dumbledore, “With some time will recover… just like as with the museum.”

McGonagall seemed to be eased slightly but she still was bothered by thoughts that remained un-voiced. Finally Dumbledore walked over to Mrs. Weasley and Hermione, a tired but hopeful smile on his face.

“Ginny is with Maylen at the moment,” stated Dumbledore to Mrs. Weasley and looked back to Hermione, asking” I hope the events upstairs were not to stressing for you?”

Hermione was puzzled at Dumbledore knowing where Ginny was, since he had not been in the room at the time but answered with, “Not really… I wasn’t sure what to do but… you said he was still Harry.”

“And so you reached out to him,” responded Dumbledore, his smile brighter, hinting that he understood, “And Harry responded as only our Harry would.”

Hermione nodded her head and Mrs. Weasley looked to have a question but again the timing of Hogwarts was unique to say the least.

The doors burst open slamming hard and loudly against the walls. A wizard enter, his wand already drawn. His face bore no respect for those around or for the place he was in while storming in. He looked towards the headmaster with eyes void of care and a demeanor about him that rivaled Draco.

Madam Pomfrey pulled the curtain back, revealing their friend covered in blankets and asleep.

With a mixture of insult and weariness, Pomfrey snapped,” Do you mind, I have patients.”

The wizard just glanced at her, not breaking his stride and responded viciously with, “Quiet woman.”

Dumbledore greeted the wizard with a questioned look.

“Where is she,” snapped the wizard, “Where is my daughter, Rela?”

Looking over at Ron, Hermione could see Rela slightly hiding her-self beside him.

“Mr. Minet, do show some consideration for where you are,” replied Dumbledore plainly.

“I have no concern for anything but my daughter,” snapped the Mr. Minet, “And I won’t ask again.”

Rela cleared her throat and stepped out from beside Ron at the same time Ginny came out of the nurse’s office dressed in a gown.

“I’m right here,” quietly answered Rela.

Mr. Minet walk straight up to his daughter and gave a threatening glare to Ron.

“When you asked to stay with a friend for part of the holiday,” inquired Mr. Minet angrily, “I was under the impression that it was young lady you would be staying with and not that boy.”

Rela swallowed hard and Mrs. Weasley was about to something but Ginny spoke first.

“She was… she is,” interjected Ginny, rushing up to Rela’s side,” She’s been staying with me… I’m Ginny Weasley.”

“Really?” replied Mr. Minet unconvinced, looking to Ron, asking, “Then who are you boy?”

“Ron… Ron Weasley,” answered Ron, surprisingly without being rude, “I’m her brother.”

“Weasley,” questioned Mr. Minet, looking from Ron to Ginny and back, adding, “You’re Arthur Weasley’s youngest children.”

Ron just nodded his head and Mr. Minet looked past them to Mrs. Weasley. After that he looked back at his daughter, less menacing but not unresolved either.

“Gather your things here,” stated Mr. Minet,” You’ll be coming home with me.”

Rela opened her mouth but Ron cut in.

“Why?” snapped Ron, “Because of today? That wasn’t our fault.”

Mr. Minet was untouched by Ron’s words and replied with,” Believe me, you wouldn’t understand why and no doubt the attempt would be lost on the likes of you.”

Ron didn’t take to kindly to his words but he did nothing.

“Rela,” began Mr. Minet but she cut him off.

“Daddy… he… he already knows,” admittedly Rela worriedly, “Everyone in this room knows… even Harry.”

“He knows? Knows what,” question Mr. Minet in a suspicious manner?

Rela swallowed hard and Ron cut in now, “Yeah I know about her mother and her being half and all that.”

“And why we left Germany,” added Rela.

“What kind of school are you running?” snapped Mr. Minet looking at Dumbledore, “You said that information would be kept amongst only the professors.”

“That policy has not been broken,” answered Dumbledore calmly,” It is not of our control as to whom your daughter reveals her secrets to.”

“And you’re not bother by this,” questioned Mr. Minet, looking from Ron to Ginny to their mother as well?

“Should we be,” answered Mrs. Weasley, her tone not very warm?

Mr. Minet hard look became confused and Dumbledore added, “Just because her lineage was not welcomed by her peers in Germany is no reason to assume there would be no acceptance here.”

“We’re still be leaving,” stated Mr. Minet to his daughter, then turned and began to walk away, “I expect you at the entrance in no less than fifteen minutes.”

“Daddy,” began Rela but stopped and she began to walk forward without another word.

“Mr. Minet,” spoke Dumbledore suddenly, “You may find it interesting to know that Macnair was present in the village as well.”

Mr. Minet stopped in mid-step and his hands clenched to fists.

“Oh,” replied Mr. Minet viciously,” What makes that interesting?”

“Harry had an encounter with him,” answered Dumbledore.

Mr. Minet took a deep breath and snapped back angrily, “So what?”

“In that encounter,” stated Dumbledore simply, “Macnair was not fortunate.”

At this Mr. Minet turned around, giving Dumbledore a questioning look with glaring eyes.

“My understanding is that he is at St. Mungo’s under critical condition,” continued Dumbledore, “And that even though some of the most advance techniques have been used… they are unable… to restore… his mind.”

Mr. Minet’s eyes went wide as he stared at the Headmaster.

“It would seem that Harry has done something to Macnair that has destroyed his mind,” yet again continued Dumbledore, “The current verdict as I understand is that there is no hope for Macnair to recover.”

A snort came from Daken and he interjected with, “I guess the saying is true… payback is hell.”

Mr. Minet’s color went white and a lost expression replaced his callous look. With a quick look to Rela, Hermione could see a strange expression on the girl, a mixture of hurt and relief.

“Why… why are you telling me this,” inquired Mr. Minet quietly?

Dumbledore hesitated a moment before he answered with,” Because I need you to make a choice… one I cannot ask you to make.”

“A choice,” inquired Mr. Minet again, his cold voice lost, replaced by a more human tone?

“Macnair’s life is finished… his own destructiveness has seen to that,” answered Dumbledore, his tone light but direct,” In self defense, Harry has enacted upon Macnair a similar fate… once suffered by another close to you I understand.”

Mr. Minet turned his eyes away from the Headmaster and looked at Harry’s sleeping form. His expression was still lost but thought was evident in his furrowed brow.

“Harry has had things hard enough to this point and it will not be any easier now… only worse if the Ministry is involved… unless,” spoke Dumbledore sternly and finished with, “Someone steps in.”

Mr. Minet took a few steps and stood at the foot of Harry’s bed.

Dumbledore gave a thin smile and questioned, “Does it matter how or by whom?”

“You know,” replied Mr. Minet turning back to Dumbledore, not meeting the Headmaster gaze, his tone wasn’t steady,” I waited… I waited almost… fifteen years to get him.”

Mr. Minet looked back at Harry and slowly reached into robes. He pulled out a piece of parchment, old and folded. Holding it out in front of him, Mr. Minet looked from Harry to the parchment a few times. He seemed to be coming to a decision on something that he didn’t voice out but Hermione could see that Dumbledore was looking hard at Mr. Minet, waiting and hoping for something.

“No,” stated Mr. Minet, his tone darkening as he finished with,” It doesn’t matter… just so long as he’s been finished off.”

The room was so silent, that the ticking of a clock could be easily heard but not for long. Mr. Minet raised his wand and touched the tip of it to the parchment.

“Incendio,” quietly stated Mr. Minet and the parchment burst into flames.

He left it drop from his hand and flutter as ashes to the floor.

“Mrs. Weasley,” spoke Mr. Minet next, taking in a deep breath and looking suddenly relieved, like a weight lifted, “I apologize in advance but… could my daughter impose upon your family for the rest of holiday… it seems… I’m going to be quite busy.”

Dumbledore’s face relaxed and the hard look he had turned to a tired smile.

“There’s no imposition,” quickly replied Mrs. Weasley, “She’s more than welcomed.”

“Thank you,” responded Mr. Minet and he turned without another word, walking out of the hospital wing.

Rela said nothing but rushed after her father. Hermione found her-self leaning to the side slightly, just enough to see Rela and her father just outside in the corridor. She was surprised by what she saw next, Rela was saying something to her father but she didn’t seem to finish before he suddenly pulled his daughter into his arms, hugging her tightly. A very pained look filled his expression before he buried his face in her hair and Rela encircled her arms around him as well.

Hermione thought it strange for Mr. Minet to have so such a vulnerable expression when he seemed like such a hard man. As if sensing Hermione’s curiosity, Professor McGonagall answered.

“It was never proven with hard evidence,” stated McGonagall quietly to Hermione, “But Macnair was the one who… supposedly killed… his wife, Rela’s mother, Lauren Minet.”

Hermione turned and stared at her Head of house in stunned silence.

“Because Rela’s mother was a pure Whasperor,” continued McGonagall, “To those that Macnair was a part of, she was seen as an invaluable resource… or a dangerous threat… and Macnair supposedly gave her that choice… she made it… which left a wizard a widower and a child without a mother… a dark spell that destroyed her mind… there was no hope of restoring her and since a Whasperor is considered a magic creature… Belmus was given the choice to let her continue… or end it.”

“What… what was,” stammered Hermione trying to absorb McGonagall’s words” Was that parchment?”

McGonagall shook her head, the answer unknown to her.

Rela came walking slowly back in and Dumbledore decided enough had been done.

“I need to attend to owls and I’m sure we could all use a little rest,” said Dumbledore.

With that the lights began to dim and Pomfrey stepped quietly into her office. Ron got up and helped Rela as Mrs. Weasley helped both her daughter and Hermione. Draco on the other hand left with Daken, as he staggered out, still injured. Dobby came out of the nurse’s office with an armful blankets and Mrs. Weasley took them a few of them. Hermione leaned back, barely able to resist the exhaustion that was suddenly overcoming her as Mrs. Weasley put blanket over her. Ron climbed into a spot next to Harry, suddenly weary and fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. Mrs. Weasley went into the office with Pomfrey and Maylen as the lights went out completely. Hermione felt her eye lids droop to a close and then drift into asleep.

Dumbledore waited in the corridor while McGonagall closed the hospital wing as quietly as possible. Daken and Draco had already left around the corner.

As the professor and headmaster walked quietly down the corridor, nothing was said at first.

“I feel that you do not approve,” spoke Dumbledore breaking the silence, “You would rather I had seen to things personally?”

“Yes Albus,” responded McGonagall quietly, “Those children should never have been in that kind of danger… he shouldn’t have had to suffer like that… and Hermione and Ronald... to see Harry like that… no I do not approve.”

“So you think I should have kept Harry here away from everyone?” questioned Dumbledore, “Leave Ronald, Hermione and everyone else to sit home and worry about him?”

“I’m sorry,” sniffled McGonagall slightly, “I know you’re helping him and I shouldn’t question.”

“On the contrary… you have every right to question,” spoke Dumbledore correcting her opinion, “You know that we both, like many of our fellow professors here, feel the same about the children that come here… if you feel I am doing something wrong then do question it.”

McGonagall nodded her head.

“You are right also in that they should not have had to face that danger,” admitted Dumbledore, “I had hoped that Harry leaving quietly with Molly would have delayed the others and given all them the chance to help him finally.”

“So everything failed,” whispered McGonagall, “Will we lose him?”

Dumbledore took a moment before answering but a then smile adorned his face.

“No,” replied Dumbledore, “Everything did not go as hoped for, that is true… however, he did not harm them… if you were to read some of the owls… then you would know that only those baring a dark mark were harmed… none of the villagers gave a statement of any magic from Harry harming them… in fact a few spoke of Harry knocking away debris and the Patronuses chasing off dementors.”

“That is still amazing to hear,” said McGonagall, “Patronuses powerful enough to injure Dementors… and I thought those things were suppose to be dead already.”

“Maybe more than injure,” answered Dumbledore, “Seven are still unaccounted for and four were unable to return to Azkaban under their own ability.”

“Can a Dementor be destroyed,” inquire McGonagall?

“From the information I was given, three were in that building with Harry and Macnair,“ answered Dumbledore, “You your-self saw Macnair’s state but no evidence of the three Dementors has been found as of yet… if Macnair’s mind is now an unsalvageable jumbled void… then what happened to those Dementors?”

McGonagall brow furrowed in thought.

“I would say that we have seen that the bond between them is strong and growing,” said Dumbledore redirecting the subject, “Ronald faced his second challenge as said by his tarot cards… to stray the hunter… Rela was willing to help a boy she barely knew… and Hermione trusted Harry even in his most dangerous state… those are strong emotions between them, more than simple friendship, different for each of them… and I have no doubt that these events before and of today will have their effect on Harry.”

They stopped at McGonagall’s office

“What were you hoping for from Mr. Minet,” asked McGonagall?

“I am hoping Belmus was will choose to be the shield between Harry and the Ministry,” answered Dumbledore, “You know very well that they shall want answers to how a young wizard can do as he has done.”

“What do we do now then,” inquired McGonagall opening her door?

“There is not much more we here can do… we have given most of what we can,” answered Dumbledore, “Now I must ask all for patience… with his hidden rage most likely burned out… Harry will be very vulnerable now that his other emotions won’t be hidden much longer… his friends… no… his family… they are the only ones who can heal his wounds.”

“This won’t be easy,” stated McGonagall walking into her office.

“The right path is not always the easy path,” replied Dumbledore, “But what is not easily can make one even stronger.”

With that McGonagall closed her door and Dumbledore traveled on. Pausing at a musical chirp sounded above him.

“Am I wrong about him old friend,” asked Dumbledore to the phoenix perched in a window above him?

Fawkes gave a light musical chirp and Dumbledore smiled, stating, “That is good… we’ll have the Lost One back soon…now shall we see about those owls.”

However much time passed was unknown but Hermione found herself being awoken by Mrs. Weasley. Sitting up slowly, Hermione brushed the hair from her eyes, she saw Ron getting up as well with Ginny and Rela arising just as slowly as her-self.

“I brought some fresh clothes for you all,” whispered Mrs. Weasley, “Now lets get cleaned up…Dumbledore wants a word before we take Harry home.”

After stretching a bit, they made their way to Gryffindor house and were about to walk in when Rela realized something.

“Wait,” stated Rela, slightly embarrassed, “I’m… I’m not a Gryffindor.”

“Oh that’s okay dear,” responded the Fat Lady as she started to swing open, “We’ll let the rules slide for today.”

Mrs. Weasley waited in the common room as they went up the stairs to the dormitories. Ginny led Rela to the girls’ dormitory while Ron went to the boys’. A short while later, the girls had showered and dressing as Hermione brushed her hair and Rela button her blouse.

Ginny was drying her hair in front of a mirror when she asked in humor, “Quite a holiday so far?”

Ignoring Ginny’s attempt at breaking the silence with humor, Rela looked at Hermione and asked, “Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“Harry’s had bumps and bruises in the past,” spoke up Ginny, “Boys like to get hurt… he’ll be fine”

Rela continued to look at Hermione.

“I want to say yes,” answered Hermione quietly, “But from I what saw, it was more than bumps and bruises.”

“I wasn’t talking about his body,” corrected Rela.

Hermione paused at combing her hair and looked at Rela.

“I don’t know,” answered Hermione, still in a quiet tone, “I’ve never seen him so mad… it was worse than he took on Krum… or Sirius… at least then he could speak.”

“I see,” replied Rela, turning and pulling a sweater out of a bag from Mrs. Weasley.

“But I think we’ll get it all sorted,” finished Hermione.

Hermione put down her brush and they left the dormitory to meet Ron in the common room with his mother. Checking to see if everything was set, they set out for Dumbledore’s office encountering McGonagall along the way. The professor looked tired but pleased to see her students rested and well.

Together they traveled the final distance and one by one traversed the stairs into Dumbledore’s office. Snape was already present and sitting off to the side. A pair of silver eyes gave away Daken in the far corner shadow and Draco’s silver, blonde hair could be seen in the edge of it

Dumbledore stood by the large fireplace near his desk, staring into the flames while they sat patiently. McGonagall cleared her throat and made ready to speak but Dumbledore spoke first.

“I wish to begin by telling a story, “started Dumbledore, “One that some of you know while others do not… I won’t go into full details, just skip to the parts that are most important… however I must stress that a story should be kept as that… do not see it as some explanation of fact… take it metaphorically and see the deeper meanings.”

Dumbledore waited a few minutes and while still staring at the flames began the condensed story.

Ages upon ages ago, before time came to be measured, a time when humans were not of this world and only beasts were the population. There were only times of the moon and times of the sun. That was how the passing of time was seen.

The beasts were as they are today, magical only in one form. Fire, Earth, Wind and Water, their only opposition was that of Shadow.

Creatures of a kind tended to stay with their kind, never to stray but there did come a day when that changed.

Roaming the edges of a great forest near a stream, Natalis the unicorn heard a strange sound nearby that beckoned her. She came to find a small thing, shivering while sheltering it-self under a tiny ledge. It was so very small, covered in black scales and with four stubby wings on its back. She had never seen a thing like it before but could sense it was not of her realm of Earth.

She called to it but the thing did not respond. Seeing it shiver, she laid next it, feeling its scales to be cold. In time it did stop shivering and came to nestle into her side.

As she wondered what this thing may be and where it could be from, she came to learn that she was not the only one to have sensed it. From the stream, Weldromor the water serpent arose to see what it had heard and what drew the unicorn to stay near.

Seeing it, Weldromor knew not what it was either and clarified that it could not be of the water realm but of Wind with its wings. The unicorn remained with the odd creature and Weldromor left to return with another.

Oulamin the winged hawk descended from the skies when Weldromor returned. To the odd thing’s misfortunate, Oulamin did not recognize its kind either even though it bore wings.

Two possibilities remained but hopefully only the first would be the answer. Oulamin left to get another and Weldromor brought fish from the stream. The young creature awoke but coward back under its ledge upon seeing the larger beasts near it.

With time they coaxed it out and offered the fish. The young ate heartily, seemingly hungered for some time.

The sun lowered in the sky and their young stranger lay under its ledge. Still neither Weldromor nor Natalis were able to communicate with it. Either it what was too young to understand or its language was of another realm that could be understood.

Oulamin returned with Ferradon, the fire bird but alas the fiery one spoke ill news that this young creature was not of the Fire realm. This meant its only place could be that of Shadow, those beast that were enemies to all other realms. They brought death and destruction to all that they touched.

They need not say it amongst each other but the fact was known between them. To return the creature its kind was certain death for any who would dare it.

The question came to be then would they leave it in hope one of its kind would seek it or would it be left to die alone. Nothing was known of the Shadows and their young, so the answer was not known.

Shadows attacked at night and their attacks were not every night nor always in the same place. So it seemed that most likely that a life would end whether in the return of the young one or it left on its own.

Ferradon and Weldromor agreed it best to just leave it where it was found and if it should that fate meant for it to live then one of its own would find it. Oulamin affirmed that it was best for one to be with its own kind. Natalis disagreed with them, raising the question that they were all there and not of the same kind but were able to exist together without problems.

With no answer to counter, Natalis degreed she would remain with the young thing and should her choice lead to her own demise, then that was her choice but she would not leave a helpless thing to die alone. Ferradon implied her desires, though good in intentions, were foolish. Oulamin said that she would not stop Natalis but watch from afar to see how events played out. Weldromor decided to follow Oulamin’s way but Ferradon would not resign to such foolishness and left them.

Suns and moons rose and fell many times, but slowly the young one had come to trust them and followed the unicorn to wherever she led. Oulamin and Weldromor, aided in food for the creature but Ferradon had no involvement. Any others who question of the thing were told only of its name… which came to be Lost One. It was not a name of Shadow or of any that they knew.

With the rise and falls of sun and moon, many times, Lost One had grown. Its four wings remained small and so flight could not be attain. Its scales were as black as night and jaw boar many sharp teeth. There was no hiding what it was to others anymore but thankfully with all the rise and falls none had come to see this creature as a threat. Weldromor and Oulamin had become more involved but Ferradon still affirmed that shadow was shadow and it would bring them harm. Flight was not the only gift Lost One was held from; they still could not speak with him.

One night when the moon was high, the forest was attacked as Shadows swarmed in from the borders. Those of Earth defended and even those of Water and Wind came to their defense. Natalis was injured and brought to the ground. Ferradon had come with aid and saw Natalis fall. Shadows surrounded her for the kill and Ferradon tried but he would not reach her in time. Others were too far away but there was one hidden by the night that could reach. Before the Shadows could make their kill, a creature came to stand before them. It was then they could see how much Lost One had grown. He rivaled them in size and now apparently in fierceness as he bared his teeth, growling viciously.

Ferradon watched from the skies as the creature he claimed would be bring harm now stood in Natalis’s defense. Many of the shadows around Natalis’s back away but one, it met the challenge Lost One offered. Ferradon watched on as the two scuffled in battle. Teeth tearing at flesh, claws swinging forth and no mercy expected. Many of the Shadows had been driven off now but their quarrel continued. Out of the forest, near a ravine they raged on. As with any battle free of mercy there can be only one victor to remain and with a final cry, one fell.

Lost One stood by the edge of the ravine, the Shadow dead at its feet. None saw what Ferradon did as the rock crumbled and Lost One fell. Changed by its actions, Ferradon raced to Lost One’s aid but the many roots that protruded the walls of the ravine tangled Ferradon’s wings, holding him back and all he could do was watch Lost One fall into the pit below. Natalis had reached her feet and came to the ravine to see others help Ferradon from his entanglement. He told Natalis of Lost One’s bravery but also the events that led Lost One to be lost to now even them.

For many rise and falls of sun and moon, they search. Oulamin, Weldromor, Natalis and even Ferradon search near and around the ravine even into its deepest depths. Ferradon search on so much that his life became endangered from no rest or nourishment. Bu their hoped faded as no trace was ever found and their Shadow friend was lost again. They never forgot their friend but nothing but hey could search no more.

Many upon many suns and moons came to pass and the attacks from shadows became few to even sparse. It almost seemed that they were non existent. That was until the sun came to set but the moon did not rise. No stars were visible for their tiny lights to twinkle. Instead their world became near darkness it self and that was when the nightmare started.

From the distant hills and mountains, shadows swarmed in hordes and soon every beast in every realm was locked in battle. This was unlike the skirmishes they had known before, it was terminable as war. Beasts and shadow fell alike. The enemy showed no mercy in their onslaught and the beasts could spare none for them.

Who the victor could be was not known but the chances for the shadows to claim that rose very quickly. Something large, its form hidden in the darkness of a moonless night traversed distance from the mountains to their battle. In one fell swoop, it unleashed a wave of death that brought many beasts down. Its power and size made it different than any shadow beast; rather it was more of a demon shadow. Any beast that dared an offense to it was defeated without effort. Unable to concentrate their power on the demon alone with so many shadows around, there was little chance of defeating both. Another wave of its power and more beasts were laid to waste.

Knowing not what to do and seeing how couldn’t be worse the terror continued as a thunderous roar filled the sky. Looking up into what light remain another monster came, descending from the skies and landing with such force the ground cracked and shook all around it.

Two demon shadows now before them, the beasts readied to resign to their fate and leave their world for the next. They watched as this demon arose and reared upon its hind legs, spreading its four wings wide.

With a roar it unleashed power with brightness so blinding that only the screaming of death could be heard. Natalis opened her eyes along with Ferradon to see that shadows littered the ground but no beast was harmed. It reared, roaring again and unleashed death upon the shadows in a large numbers.

Its demon brother called out to it in question but no answer came and it took flight again. Rushing forward, it seized the demon shadow its claws and dragged it away. It pulled the demon in to a mountain range far and the darkness alighted from their exchange

With so many more shadows killed, the beasts rage forth and finished the war, driving the shadows back to their depths but the battle between the demons continued. It was long but when most of the mountains were destroyed and the battle appeared to have ended.

Wounded and drained the remaining beast that could, traveled to the mountains to learn of the mysterious defender. Amongst the rubble they found two extremely large creatures. The darkness parted like clouds and the moon appeared in the sky with its starry brethren. In the return of the light lay the carcass of a dead creature they had never seen before. Half buried in mountainous rubble lay another creature, monstrously huge, its jaw laced with sharp teeth, covered in scales as black as night but protruding from the rubble were four battered and torn wings. It took her a moment but Natalis could recognize their lost friend… the Lost One… now a creature known to us as a dragon.

How he had ever survived the ravine didn’t matter but his wounds were severe and none of them had the strength to try and restore him. That didn’t stop Ferradon from using his remaining power to try and heal what he could. They all did but again they were far too drained. So a promise was made, they would placed Lost One into slumber and let their power be restored. Once done they would return and heal what remained of his wounds.

Lost One was then put to sleep and buried by the rest of the mountains to be his chamber until they could return. The trouble was that their world had been devastated in the battle. The ground and waters were soaked in blood. The skies were darkened from burning forests. They would return with their strength restored but for that to happen their world must heal first.

And that is what began, Ferradon, Natalis Weldromor and Oulamin awaited. Asleep in their own realms for their world to heal and one day give to them renewed strength.

Over time, the blood soaked waters and littered grounds cleared to be fresh again for new life. The skies became bright again, letting the sun and moon alight their world. Unfortunately much of life’s power was used to restore what destruction had brought and in that drain the beasts were not able to regain their population and the four who awaiting their own restoration would also have to wait. To solve the dilemma, life found a way to bring forth a new creature that would not draw its power from the elements but from within themselves.

These creatures would become to be known as humans. Their creation allowed for their emotions to be the source of their power. When one died that source would go into the earth, filtering eventually in to wind and water, feeding fire as well. While alive they could release their powers, the result of that release would also add to void created in the drain.

Humans had one commonality with beasts and that was they could utilize one form of magic but the commonality ended in that it was not one element for all humans. Where beasts could only use magic of the element of their kind, some humans could use Fire or Water or Wind or even Earth but not another in combination.

However since humans could wield any of the elements of magic, so to were they able to harness magic of the powers of the enemies to the beasts, the shadows. Human magic was sourced from their own emotions and those emotions like greed and desire flourished shadow magic best. In time some humans developed their shadow magic, seeing that it brought dominion and riches. As humans went that way with magic so did those who opposed them, like beast and shadow.

With the growth of humans, the drained magic of elements had begun to return and the beasts began to regain their strength. Though humans bickered amongst them-selves with their magic, peace reigned for the beasts.

That was until the threat to a promise came. In their materialistic desire for riches and dominion, humans had begun tearing away at the soil and rock to gratify them-selves. And while they dug into rock of a mountain they found a chamber, hosting a great black beast, slumbering away undisturbed.

Seeing the greatest treasure of all before them, a beast of great size and power, they sought to awaken and tame it. The most powerful of humans in the region came together and utilized their magic to awaken the beast, unaware of just what they were truly awakening and what it could do.

Breaking the spell that kept the beast asleep and using their magic to restrain, Lost One awoke but rather than see his awaited friends before him, instead strange creatures using magic that restrained him most painfully. For you see, Lost One’s wounds were not healed yet and the restraining caused him great pain. Lost One had only one response for pain, destroy its source.

Rearing on its legs, Lost One spread his wings unleashed his fury, destroying the chamber and burying most of the humans with it. The more powerful ones escaped the rock to see Lost One in his full form in the light of the day. Seeing him not as the beast they thought but as the shadow he was. To escape his wrath, they used more of their magic to try and restrain him but the fools did not realize to what extent of pain they were causing. They escaped but their restraints remained and Lost One sought to destroy the source. Since humans were the ones awoke him, caused this pain and now seemed to be everywhere in the world he had known to be of beasts, Lost One would destroy every human.

Humans that opposed the ones of this nature sought to find an answer as no human could seem to find the power to stop the shadow. Region after region began to fall under his rage. Learning from those with the gift of Sight, the humans were told of what brought on the shadow’s rage and to turn to the beasts for answers.

Awakened from her slumber, deep inside a forest, protected by a wall of thorns and vines, Natalis arose to the humans’ call. Hearing what had been done, she told them of the battle that led Lost One to be where he had been. Natalis with her connection to the magic of Earth could sense the differences in humans and understood that if the humans were destroyed, magic may never recover and the beasts would not be able to keep their promise.

Natalis called out to awaken Oulamin, Weldromor and Ferradon from slumber within their realms. Knowing the risks to all, human and beast alike, they agreed to hold off Lost One while the humans that were trustworthy would stop those who had awoken Lost One early.

The four beasts confronted Lost One, calling to him but his wounds burned from shadow magic and his rage deafened his ears. So while those few humans sought the dark ones, they used their partly restored strength to keep Lost One at bay, trying not to hurt him further. Their fight shook the world and magic became unstable, and what had come to be began to fall apart. The waters froze and air went stale. The ground shook cracking and drying of life. All around became cold, more so than any winter. But the four beasts stood against their friend and humans sought out the dark ones to end their magical hold on the shadow. Unfortunately greed and desire were too strong for the dark ones to listen to reason and the cowardice of the shadow’s wrath made it none the easier. Battle became the only answer and human stood against fellow human. In the end the dark ones had fallen and the pain they caused Lost One stopped.

Having been victorious, the humans returned to the battle of beasts and shadow in hopes to see all resolved. Instead they found grief and coming death. Ferradon, Oulamin, Weldromor and Natalis lay on the ground, gravely injured. Like a child, Lost One was confused from his doing once freed of the painful restraint and knew not why his friends lay doomed beyond saving. The humans returned but Lost One did not welcome them for he still did not understand them. Before he could strike, Ferradon used the remaining of his body’s strength to arise, calling out to Lost One.

Ferradon told him that these had been the ones who had stopped the pain that held Lost One from hearing and knowing his friends. Ferradon pleaded with the young one to give them his trust even though that had not yet been earned. To not make the mistake he had done so long ago. If he had been willing to look past the link to shadow and give a chance of trust, then maybe he could have escaped the ravine by knowing how to fly, a skill that he, Ferradon, should have helped him to learn. Lost One did not destroy the humans that had come but he refused to let them near his friends.

Natalis spoke of the promise they had made and she would not wait so long to keep it again. Sensing what she meant, the others agreed but their bodies were too wounded and weak to do it. However the humans’ bodies were not but their powers were not strong enough to have an effect on their shadow friend. So to solve the problem, the four beasts used the last of their power to transform their wounded bodies to pure magical essence. Flesh and bone became magic along with blood and all. Lost One watched his friends go from solid creatures to magical essence and join with four humans deemed worthy of them. These humans, with fresh and unharmed bodies, could wield new found power. With that new strength, they kept the promise of their beast allies and combined their power to heal Lost One of his wounds.

Broken scales healed, torn wings became whole scars faded and Lost One’s full strength returned. However the cost had come to be the lives of those he had saved by them merging with humans, surrendering their individual existence to the humans to fulfill an old promise. With a roar of rage, Lost One took flight and disappeared.

Humans had come to mark time in years and many passed. Until the day more humans of greed and materialistic desire brought threats again. Those humans merged with the essence of beasts chose to fight and their battles grew. A new ally joined them and easily ended the evil of the dark ones with his powerful magic, rivaling their own. This new human was named Degarus in human tongue but in beast it meant Lost One. The shadow beast, the dragon buried in a chamber to rest, awakened early by greed and saved at the cost of his friends’ lives had chosen to find his own human, merge with it and so forever be able to remain with his friends.

It is said that Degarus is chained for all eternity, to rise every so often and find his friends and will destroy any threat to them.

Dumbledore turned from the fireplace and pulled a book out from within his robes. He showed them the front cover of an old book. The cover bore a bronze image of dragon with chains encircling it and going out indifferent directs.

“Harry has not read the book to the end,” spoke Dumbledore, turning the book over and showing the back cover, “He will not understand the front image because until he does finish it, this will not appear.”

Opening the back cover, a blank parchment filled with an image. A bird encased in an outline of fire, a unicorn, a hawk and serpent appeared with chains encircling them, binding them.

“These chains you see do not mean the bond of restraint but the bond of union,” finished Dumbledore, closing the book, “Do not ask me questions of this until you have pondered this story on your own. Remember I said not to take it as literal fact… but metaphorical similarity.”

Dumbledore walked towards his desk and silence took the room. He placed the book on his desk and took his seat behind it.

“Nearly twenty years ago… a couple left this school and join a battle with me and many others,” spoke Dumbledore plainly, “In the trials that came their love grew and in time a marriage came.”

The new subject drew everyone from their thoughts to hear what Dumbledore wanted to tell them next.

“As with many unions… a young one soon came… I along with many convinced them to go into hiding… and though they wanted to stand out to show that fear would not drive them away,” continued Dumbledore, his placid tone giving way to a sullen note, “They did as asked.”

Dumbledore closed his hands together in front of his face and stared out amongst his audience.

“Almost a year after the child was born… an evil found them and sought to end everything they were… two fell but the fruit of their union… the child… one none had seen… defeated this evil... and in that defeat the child took from that evil a part of its power.”

Dumbledore took a deep breath, pausing yet again and closed his eyes.

“But not without paying a price at the same time… since power does not come to one completely free.”

“Harry’s scar,” whispered Hermione, suddenly realizing she had spoke,” And being able to speak Parseltongue.”

Hermione shaded white and blushed next, realizing she had interrupted. Dumbledore smiled weakly and nodded slightly.

“The scar is merely a mark… a brand in a way that signifies… something that is not ready to be revealed, “ responded Dumbledore, “And yes the Parseltongue is something he took from Voldemort that night… but had you seen much of what we saw in the village… then you would know that was only the beginning.”

Hermione stared back at Dumbledore as did everyone else.

“A wizard… not yet a man… but not a boy anymore either,” spoke Dumbledore quietly, “Demonstrates the ability to apparate others from one place to another…hence his friends sent to the Dungeons… able to discern those bearing the dark mark and those who do not… hence why only certain wizards and witches were harmed… the ability to repel multiple spells at once... hence the numerous wizards knocked away from their spells repelled… and among other things, the ability to resist the effects of magic.”

Dumbledore stopped speaking and let a moment of silence pass to allow what he had said so far to takes its place in their minds.

“So I was right,” snorted Daken nastily, “He is another Voldemort.”

Ron stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over but Dumbledore’s words came again, freezing Ron in place.

“Yes those actions are the same as Voldemort once demonstrated,” replied Dumbledore, still quietly, “Voldemort could sense those who bore the dark mark… easily repel spells… and simple spells had little to no effect on him also.”

Ron, frozen in mid stride, stared out blankly as a look of horror and defeat began to cross his face. Hermione felt her own hurt at thought of the comparison and she felt her own refusal to those thoughts swell as well.

“But Albus,” began McGonagall before Dumbledore cut her off.

“However," continued Dumbledore, his voice more pleasant suddenly,” Other actions show that the two are also not alike.”

Ron turned to stare back at the Headmaster and Hermione forego her thoughts to listen without distraction.

“Voldemort never and I doubt could ever, produce three Patronuses that are powerful enough to cause severe damage to Dementors,” spoke Dumbledore, his weak smile showing again, “The fact that even though Macnair is in such a terrible state, neither he nor any of the dark wizards and witches in this malicious attack were killed by Harry…and that he released that young girl from the binding spell, sending her and his closest friends away from danger.”

Dumbledore placed his hands down upon the desk and finished with a much happier tone, “And those are not the actions… or characteristics that ever defined Voldemort.”

Hermione stared at the Headmaster and let the events replay in her mind. She remembered how the child was able to move. The Patronuses that appeared, large and physical to the touch, unleashed against the Dementors. Fainting and awakening in at the Dungeons and being told that Harry had sent them off. That thought Erickson tried to kill them, Harry had held back when Ron and she asked him not to. Remembering how Harry reacted when Ron was knocked away by Daken’s spell.

Hermione placed her hand upon her Prefect badge, thinking that even though he was hurt and tired, he still had retrieved it again and returned it.

-No that’s not the way of a dark wizard, -thought Hermione, a sense of joy filling her, - Just someone that’s.-

At her last thought, Hermione couldn’t hold back the question that surfaced fro it.

Standing suddenly, Hermione asked loudly and quickly, “Then why do Harry’s eyes turn red and how can he act like Voldemort at all?”

Dumbledore gave her a hard look, seemingly impressed by her drive for more answers but wary of the questions as well.

“I said earlier that the child that defeated Voldemort took from him part of his powers,” answered Dumbledore directly, “But I also said it came at a price because no power is given completely free.”

Hermione sat back down and waited on Dumbledore as he gazed to the side for a moment before turning back to her.

“Magic comes from within you… it’s a part of you in every way… your tears, blood, hair even the very fluid in your mouth,” continued Dumbledore, “And in every bit of magic from spells and potions to flying on brooms is a part of your-self… a part of your very essence is in that magic.”

Hermione nodded her head in understanding but confused to what Dumbledore was explaining.

“Harry as a child took from Voldemort a part of his power… his magic,” spoke Dumbledore, his tone a strange eeriness, “And because Voldemort was so enveloped with evil maybe even into the core of his soul… so was his magic.”

Not a single breath was taken in the room as they waited for what was to come next.

“So taking magic from Voldemort… such as the ability to speak Parseltongue… also meant taking from Voldemort and incorporating a part of that wizard’s evil,” finished Dumbledore, “And though I will not give you all the details for other reasons… when the creature calling it-self Voldemort arose… his eyes also glowed red in hate.”

Deep and shocked breaths sounded loudly in the room, even Daken was taken back by Dumbledore’s words.

“You once questioned Hermione… what would ten years with the Dursleys and the time since spawn?” stated Dumbledore, “That evil Harry took in… I believe merged with a part of Harry… a part that has been dormant for some time… but the effects of the Colossus orb and the resurrection of the source of that evil have respectively empowered and awakened it… hence nearly fourteen years of buried rage has surfaced to counter the pain he holds… that is largely what has spawned.”

At that last bit of words Hermione remembered at the Weasley home before they had left for Diagon Alley. The way Harry became suddenly enraged and he revealed a part of his past, never told before.

“Well he’s got a right to be,” snapped Ron fiercely, fighting to keep his words mature, “Some idiot left my best friend with those… those… those Muggles.”

McGonagall cleared her throat worriedly and Dumbledore just looked on at Ron.

“That,” replied Dumbledore plainly, “Would be this idiot before you.”

Ron stared at Dumbledore, words vacant from his lips as well as thoughts of expression in his face and he was not alone in that reaction.

“You must understand,” spoke McGonagall calmly.

Ron didn’t listen to her but instead shouted angrily, the heat of the room responded as well, “Why!”

Dumbledore looked on unaffected and answered calmly,” Because of Lily’s sister and I can go no further on that.”

Ron’s fist clenched but Dumbledore continued on.

“You may have read books but the facts are not nearly as detailed as the truth,” continued Dumbledore, “With Voldemort’s fall… those under his influence were released from the Dark Touch… and his forces became lost in confusion… but that was nothing of the repercussions that followed.”

Dumbledore stopped to take a breath and McGonagall continued for him.

“Yes there were celebrations and the weight of that fear was gone but it didn’t end there,” explained McGonagall hurriedly,” For nearly the year that followed, the Aurors went on a blood hunt for every person with so much as remote connection to a dark witch or wizard… children were taken from families as parents were split up and questioned for days on end… some even tortured to give information they mostly likely didn’t have… trial after trial… the punishments… were not light… it took mandates from other countries to demand that we stop the madness that was consuming us.”

McGonagall now had to take a breath. Ron looked to his mother as did Ginny and Rela along with Hermione. Mrs. Weasley merely nodded her head in affirmation.

“Our world became ensnared by rage,” finished Dumbledore quietly, “What was I to do? Leave him to grow up in a world that celebrated his miraculous actions with senseless violence and hate? My only defense is that I was seeking to find a sanctuary that Harry could be where Death eaters could not seek him out and no magic near to signal his presence… even I could not predict that his relatives would be as they are… my concern was for him to be safe… and so I may be largely responsible for this… but I will answer to that when the time comes.”

McGonagall gave Dumbledore a curious look but he said nothing to her.

“Its very late Albus,” spoke Mrs. Weasley.

“Yes and I would rather Harry awoke someplace better,” agreed Dumbledore, “I don’t think he would like to wake up in the hospital wing again.”

Mrs. Weasley ushered the younger wizard and witches out of the room and Draco remained with Daken in the dark corner. McGonagall escorted Mrs. Weasley and company out of the office and Snape began together some parchments in his lap.

“Do you think your plan will succeed,” inquired Snape?

“I would like it to... so that Harry would not go Riddle’s lonely path,” answered Dumbledore, “But Harry must travel the final league of his journey in this dark time, the time where he will be most vulnerable, where everything will be grey… a time… Into Twilight.”

Next Chapter

Man or Monster

29. Man or Monster Part 1

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note:

I just wanted to quickly say sorry about the delay again. I’ve been in the process of switching jobs and this new one, now that the transition is complete, has opened up loads of time for me. Hence no more two month waiting periods. I want to apologize to my beta readers as well. Its not that I wanted to leave you out of the loop I was just really anxious to get something posted but you will get part 2 very soon. I’m aiming for part 2 by the end of the weekend or early next week it all depends on my time. So this hasn’t been beta read. Sorry ahead of time.

I believe I mentioned it before that I don’t know the exact layout of Hogwarts but who does. So if it seems like people are just popping up or arriving from directions that don’t sound right then please give me be the benefit of ignorance. My impression of Hogwarts is that its like a maze in some respects with corridors leading in all kinds of directions with stairs here and there. Plus secret ways as mentioned in the books about tapestries and moving rooms. So again I ask you to bear with me if I’m starting to make it sound like people are coming from everywhere.

I was asked in an email about why I’ve brought Hermione’s parents into this. The answer is that I don’t think her parents are completely clueless to her adventured at Hogwarts but I would think they would have an opinion about it. Plus in the last four and now five books, I’ think we’ve seen a lot of Ron and of course Harry but I felt there was a lot lacking on Hermione’s part. I’m not questioning JK but Hermione’s possible past was one of the reasons I was inspired to write this story. After all, hasn’t anyone else wondered what makes Hermione the way she is? I first started thinking about it after I watched the first movie with my cousins a while ago and one of them remarked the line in which Ron says “it’s no wonder she doesn’t have any friends.”

Another thing on Dobby, my impression of him is that he refers to him-self in the third person and is not able to pronounce all words the same way as humans do. So if his speech seems childish or there are misspellings in his speech like names or places. That was intentional based upon my understanding of his character.

Revised 4/09/04

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 29

Man or Monster

Part 1

One by one they descended stairs, gathering in the corridor. The statue scrapped its way back into place, guarding the entrance to Dumbledore’s office. As the statue came to rest, an owl swooped into view from a window nearby, screeching loudly and glided to McGonagall. It hovered for a moment and dropped a small piece of parchment from its talons into McGonagall’s hands before flapping away. With a quick read, she let off a discouraged sigh and made an announcement.

“It seems that Poppy, “spoke McGonagall, “Has Harry ready to leave.”

Ron and Hermione both were ready to break into a run at the news but resisted enough to walk, though somewhat more hurriedly, with everyone else.

Through corridors of still tapestries and quiet suits of armor, down stairs past empty paintings and dull windows, door after door of empty classrooms. Mrs. Weasley and McGonagall exchanged whispers but Hermione and Ron didn’t speak a word to each other throughout the return. They hurried as best as possible but paused a few times as Rela seem to be tiring very quickly and she would need to her catch her breath.

Ginny stayed right by her side while giving Ron a curious look as he did nothing to assist her but glance their way. Even with her own mind set on Harry, Hermione did note that it seemed strange that Rela wasn’t bothered by Ron’s ill-manners of not trying to help her.

Descending the final stairs to a corridor that would lead them to the hospital wing, an unexpected and seriously un-welcomed nuisance arrived. High pitched cackle of laughter reached their ears and shouts from paintings along with rattling suits of armor, signaled Peeves approach.

“Of all times, “snapped Professor McGonagall irritably, “He has to do something now.”

As if acting on some insane cue, Peeves the pestering poltergeist came out from behind a suit of armor with a big smile and a beady look awaiting the intended pranks as it held a small bag with something that rustled within. He gave them a look of pure devious delight and reached in, his beady eyedlook almost drunken with joy. McGonagall drew her wand but before she tried to deter the ghostly menace, another resolved the situation first.

A deep voice boomed in the distance with, “Peeves!”

At once Peeves lost his smile and stopped instantly in the air as the Baron came floating in behind him.

“Not today,” boomed the ghost of the Baron, his tone distinct with finality, his look very serious, “Go back to taunting the imps.”

Peeves had a look of wanting to argue but the Baron’s look halted the poltergeist. Peeves flew off into the ceiling, dropping his bag and letting some small purple things scatter away, muttering a few things that were no doubt not meant for civil conversation. It was the first time since Professor Lupin that Hermione could ever remember anyone putting Peeves in his place so easily, as not even McGonagall could get him to behave.

“Sorry Professor, “apologized the Baron n his deep voice, “He can’t resist a chance to pull something when the castle’s this empty.”

McGonagall nodded her head and the Baron floated off through a wall behind him.

“Come along,” quietly directed Mrs. Weasley to them, “It’s late, lets get Harry and go home.”

A minute later, they rounded the corner of the corridor of the hospital wing as Pomfrey opened the doors to meet them. Dobby strode out with her and met them with a smile.

“Miss Granger,” spoke Pomfrey, directing her-self towards Hermione, “I believe this is your wand.”

Madam Pomfrey reached into an apron pocket and withdrew a familiar looking wand. One Hermione had not seen since earlier that day but where did she had gotten it was the question.

“How did you find it,” asked Hermione surprised, “I thought I wouldn’t see it again since it was taken.”

“Maylen found it,” answered Pomfrey slightly curt, “Apparently, it was in Mr. Potter’s robes.”

Confused at first, taking it into her hands, Hermione remembered suddenly that Harry had returned Ron and Rela’s wands then turned to her but that moment had been interrupted by Erickson unexpected arrival.

-That must have been the wand I saw, - thought Hermione, -The one in his robes before he gave me back my badge.-

“Well I assume you got the owl,” said Pomfrey plainly, halting Hermione’s thoughts,” So I tell you about Mr. Potter’s current condition.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a nervous glance. Ginny stood by Rela as the girl’s sudden fatigue was making it difficult to stand. Mrs. Weasley took a slight step forward as Minerva stood by silently.

“Well,” started Pomfrey but paused at a faint sound drawing her attention.

The light tapping of steps reached their ears and they turned to see. In the shadows of the corner from which the corridor intersecting the next, two pairs of eyes looked back to them. One pair very distinctly bright and silver but the other was much dimmer and had a touch of blue.

“As Dumbledore mentioned earlier, the injuries are not severe, “started Pomfrey clearing her throat and explaining, “Unlike the ‘numerous’ times before… everything was only minor… a broken rib which protruded through his side otherwise there are still some minor fractures here and there … but they’re small and not a danger… otherwise all that’s left is a lot of heavy bruising and cuts.”

“But Harry had blood all over him,” inquired Mrs. Weasley, “Is he going to okay from that?”

“Actually,” corrected Pomfrey and adding in hesitation, “He lost very little… most of it… wasn’t his.”

“Then,” began Mrs. Weasley but she was interrupted.

“The dark wizards,” laughed Daken from his darken corner, guessing the question.

“Harry’s… reaction,” spoke McGonagall quietly and pausing before finishing with” Must have been… severe.”

“Voldemort was never one to be subtle,” added Daken, “Nor kind with his magic… so that shouldn’t be too unexpected with Potter.”

“Harry is not Voldemort,” snapped Ron viciously!

“No one is saying he is,” replied Mrs. Weasley rather curt with her gaze directed to the shadows.

“In any case,” cut in Pomfrey, focusing the conversation back to her, “The only blood loss was from the rib bone puncturing his side… and from his scar.”

Hermione could feel many of her muscles relax, not even realizing just how tense she was. She must not have been the only to begin feeling better as Pomfrey spoke again even more serious.

“Don’t get too relaxed about it… that was only the good news,” spoke Pomfrey with serious caution, “Now for the bad.”

Pomfrey let gaze go astray for a moment as it seemed she was collecting her-self.

“The serious concern that remains is that Mr. Potter’s is severely exhausted,” spoke Pomfrey, her tone lost its plainness and sounded a bit grimmer, “It’s serious due to the fact that… whatever has caused Mr. Potter to become… this way… has made him resistant to my potions… probably any potions.”

“Resistant to potions?” questioned McGonagall then whispered almost desperately, “All of them?”

Pomfrey nodded her head, then looking to the rest and explained, “Normally when a witch or wizard is injured and will be unconscious for a few days there are potions you can apply to keep the body strong… but not for Mr. Potter… his sudden… uniqueness… has caused that option to be no longer viable.”

Pomfrey paused letting what she said have a moment to take its place in their minds. As that silence came it was broken by more footsteps, hard and fast, as Snape appeared and stood next to McGonagall. He carried a small case as his cold, hard look was indifferent to the situation.

McGonagall looked to Snape but before she could utter a word, stated, “I already know… none of them work… the Headmaster requested that I prepare a few things for Molly.”

He held out the case which Mrs. Weasley took with a questioned look but rather than inquire she looked back to Pomfrey.

“Then what,” asked Mrs. Weasley clear with expectation, “There has to be something else?

Pomfrey took a breath with her gazed slightly towards Snape and answered, “We have a couple of options... but only one of them is probable…which is just to let him wake up on his own … no doubt he’ll be asleep for a few days at the very least but that’s not good in his current state.”

“And,” inquired McGonagall, slightly frustrated, “What else?”

“Well there’s the Maldibure honey, “ replied Pomfrey, “But I don’t have any and Sprout hasn’t been able to get a single bud.”

McGonagall gave strange, quick glance towards Hermione and Ron but looked to Snape and asked, “Severus, do you have any?”

Snape gave her a dismissive look and answered, “You know the law… if I did I’d have to turn it.”

McGonagall’s eyes turned to a glare followed with a look of doubt.

“Let me remind you that it takes months to grow just one flower for the sap,” snorted Snape and then added rudely, “And I am a Potion Master not a Herbologist… I make potions not stand around for days on end to grow one plant… regardless of what it can do.”

“We could sneak some out from St. Mungo’s supply,” growled Daken’s voice from his corner with Draco, “That area is well guarded… but there are ways around it given the right… person.”

“Don’t bother considering it,” cut in Pomfrey loudly before McGonagall could respond, “I’ve already inquired… they used the last of it already… their placing an article in the Daily Prophet, doubling the reward for every once that can be found.”

“Is that it then, “asked Hermione, “Noting else?”

Rather than answer, Pomfrey just gave a look of expectation to McGonagall but received a doubtful look and a shaking of the professor’s head in return.

“They’re not that young,” remarked Snape with a sudden smirk, “We could at least try?”

McGonagall gave a decisive and threatening glare at his comment. Snape said nothing to it but he gave Ron and Hermione a devious smile.

“Not even Albus would suggest it,” replied McGonagall curtly, “We’ve no proof as of yet.”

“Have we forgotten what happened with Krum,” chided Snape, obviously enjoying his suggestion, “He didn’t have scratch on him… happened once, it could happen again.”

“Enough Severus, “snapped McGonagall dangerously, “That’s interfering… we can’t… Albus already pointed that out to us… and you had better not consider it another second.”

“It would be, “mocked Snape smirking, showing his joy of the moment, “Interesting.”

“Serverus,” speaking McGonagall in a warning nature.

“Someday you’ll need to make a decision,” snapped Snape nastily, turning and walking away, adding, “And won’t have the Headmaster to hold your hand… I suggest you prepare for that.”

Snape began to walk past Daken and Draco but as he did Daken whispered to him.

“And I suggest that you don’t alienate your allies,” whispered Daken in the shadows, “Or you’ll have no one in your corner when your fight comes.”

“You know nothing,” whispered Snape, pausing in stride and not looking to his side, “And things like you should keep their opinions in the shadows… just as you hide there.”

“I may hide in the shadows,” replied Daken, “But I still strike… not cower in a dungeon and let others do the fighting… that’s what got you in this mess didn’t it?”

Snape said nothing more but snorted as he took up his pace again back to an unspoken place. After Snape turned the corner, Draco and Daken went in the opposite direction.

None of those at the hospital wing heard the exchange and so continued their conversation unaware.

“Isn’t there anything else,” asked Hermione, “I mean there’s always something?”

“Well Miss Granger,” inquired Pomfrey, “Do you have an alternative?”

“Well,” began Hermione, pausing as she thought, remembering what she could on the spot from all the books read, class notes and actual experience, “There has to be something.”

Hermione thought of different potions, many which would a long while to make and with ingredients not so readily available. Thought back to chapters read of the numerous books of various subjects but with Harry’s condition many were too string to use in such a state.

Hermione heard a groan and turned to see Rela begin to lose her balance again. She watched as Ginny steadied her again and Ron moved closer.

Hermione heard as Ron whispered, “Are you okay?”

Seeing as Rela gave him a weak smile and slight nod, answering, “Yeah… I’m just getting really tired again.”

Hermione was about to answer that she knew no alternative to the awaiting Pomfrey when upon turning to her, Hermione glanced quickly again at Ron. She noticed a scorch marks along the fabric on his back. For some reason, seeing that flashed her mind back to when they entered Hogwarts earlier in the day and what had welcomed them.

- Fawkes, - thought Hermione puzzle, - A phoenix... -

That’s when she remembered the basilisk, when she had been revived from the petrification. Ron and Harry had retold the events of the Chamber to her later. Harry had told her of Fawkes and the venom that had entered through his arm.

“Fawkes, “whispered Hermione.

“What did you say,” replied Pomfrey, bringing Hermione out of her thoughts?

“I said Fawkes,” answered Hermione looking back to Pomfrey and McGonagall?

“The headmaster’s phoenix,” replied Pomfrey, “What about it?”

“Its tears can heal,” answered Hermione, growing more confident, “Can we try that?”

“Where did you hear such a thing,” asked Pomfrey, her voice strong in the hint of disbelief?

“Harry told me,” replied Hermione, “After I was revive from petrification… he said Fawkes’ tears hit his arm where the basilisk’s fang bit and sealed the wound.”

“That’s right… I saw it… I was there,” added Ginny excitedly, “In that place… with the big snake… Harry had a big hole in his arm… but Fawkes swooped down and I saw its tears hit Harry… then it all just sort of glued together… like nothing had happened.”

Pomfrey looked from them to McGonagall her expression clear with doubtful confusion and curiosity. McGonagall in turn only shrugged her shoulders slightly.

“Well,” insisted Hermione, “What about it?”

“Its just… Miss Granger… I would,” replied Pomfrey slowly but doubtfully, “Except no one’s ever been able to prove whether that was true… sure there have been those who said its true… but there’s never been any documented proof of such a thing about phoenixes… not surprising considering how selective they are of people..”

“But I saw it happen,” snapped Ginny snappishly, “I was there.”

“You also had just woken up, “replied Pomfrey, “After having been under the control of dark magic.”

“Damn it,” snapped Ron as well, “Harry, himself, said it happened… and he wasn’t under anything’s control.”

“I’ll ask the headmaster about it… and if the phoenix can do that,” questioned Pomfrey, still with disbelief but some wavering evident, “But true or not… I would like to hold that option in reserve… and see if Mr. Potter will wake up on his own.”

Ron just sighed in agreement, clearly not settled with the delay and Hermione agreed that if Harry had such sudden resilience then maybe it was best to hold off until absolutely necessary.

“Well then, I need to get Mr. Potter ready to move,” spoke Pomfrey turning, “Dobby would you?”

As Pomfrey had started to turn and looked down to where Dobby had been, she the elf was gone, which was odd given its undeniable loyalty to Harry and regard his safety.

“Where did he get off to,” inquire Pomfrey surprised?

“Strange,” commented McGonagall, looking as well, “Molly and I shall assist.”

Without another word Pomfrey turned completely away and headed back into the hospital wing with Mrs. Weasley and McGonagall in tow. In the Hospital wing, Mrs. Weasley talked with Pomfrey regarding Harry with McGonagall gathering things. Pomfrey already had Harry wrapped tightly in blankets on a levitating stretcher.

Harry’s hair was still dull and flat. His skin still pale and discolored even with the blood and grime was cleaned from his face, leaving a swollen area around his scar. Harry’s breathing was slow but not so labored and forced on intake. And in the end, Hermione knew something was missing from the picture that was Harry before them.

Maylen came from nurse’s office with an armful of coats to distribute. Taking their coats, Maylen also handed Ginny a small brawn sack along with a mischievous smile.

“Thanks,” replied Ginny blushing slightly.

“What’s in there,” inquired Ron, sliding on his coat?

“Oh um,” began Ginny, still blushing but Maylen answered for her.

“It’s a girl thing,” answered Maylen and Ron just nodded his head, dropping the matter.

Rela was sliding on her coat again but began to wobble again. Ginny snatched her up again. Ron looked as if he was about to move but a sudden hesitation stopped him.

Maylen moved forward and placed one hand on Rela’s chest just below her neck. Then kneeling, Maylen gently placed her hands on Rela’s face and spread her drooping eyelids to look into Rela’s eyes. After a moment, Maylen smiled at her and straightened her clothing. As Maylen began to stand, she paused long enough to lean forward and whispering something in Rela’s ear.

With final preparations for Harry’s transport, the others finished adorning though coats and gathering bags that were awaiting on a nearby bed.

“I wonder what Professor Snape was talking about,” questioned Hermione suddenly?

“When,” inquired Ron, piling bags together?

“Before he left,” replied Hermione, looking at what bag had what, “He said we weren’t that young… and something about Krum.”

Ron shrugged his shoulders, answering, “Don’t know… probably something unpleasant knowing that git.”

“Maybe,” remarked Hermione.

Ron then had a question of his own.

“Do you know what flower they were on about,” questioned Ron?

Hermione furrowed her brow into quick thought.

“Maybe,” whispered Hermione, “the Maldibure Flower?”

“The what,” replied Ron?

“Professor Sprout mentioned it before when we did the chapters on healing herbs for potions and the like,” answered Hermione

“Didn’t the nurse say that stuff wouldn’t work, “asked Ron, “Potions and all.”

“Yeah but,” responded Hermione thinking, “Its an ingredient in a potion but you can you can use it by it-self.”

Before Hermione could continue, the sound of heavy footsteps reached their ears. Looking towards the door, they watched as a group of wizards walked in led by one they had not expected to see.

“What are you doing here,” inquired McGonagall surprised?

“Why… my duty of course,” replied the leading wizard quite smug.

Lucius Malfoy, baring his cane, looking quite pleased about something walked into the Hospital wing. Three others followed with him, their demeanors none to pleasant other than the quiet pleasure of their task ahead.

Ron moved and stood in path between Lucius Malfoy and the others.

“Stand aside,” snarled one of Malfoy’s companions, pushing Ron aside.

However his attempt was unsuccessful as Ron remained firm. The wizard made to push but it was an ill attempt again just as if trying to move a large boulder with a gentle nudge was useless.

McGonagall hurried to Ron’s side and stated, quite distastefully, “What duty.”

“My duty as governor of Hogwarts,” replied Lucius in an oddly casual and cool manner, adding, “And also as a citizen in the service of the Ministry.”

Lucius Malfoy handed McGonagall a folded parchment, a look of achievement adorned his face as McGonagall read through it quickly, her face whitening.

Stunned, McGonagall stated, “You can’t be serious?”

“What,” inquired Pomfrey quickly?

Pomfrey approached and McGonagall handed the parchment to her.

“Everything is in order as you can see,“ replied Lucius Malfoy coolly, “By order of the Ministry, Harry Potter is to be taken to St. Mungo’s… placed under guard… then answer to an inquiry regarding his… dark behavior.”

“Why you monstrous,” snapped Pomfrey seething but Lucius cut her off.

“Careful madam,” cut in Lucius, his attitude showing his clear enjoyment, “We have young ones here… wouldn’t want to set a bad example?”

McGonagall’s cheek started to twitch slightly and following a look from Lucius, the other three moved to side step Ron and seize Harry’s stretcher.

In a flash, wands were drawn Ron had is aimed and the three following Malfoy brought forth their own. McGonagall and Pomfrey followed together and even Mrs. Weasley began to draw. Ginny joined her mother, leaving Rela in Maylen’s care. Hermione went for hers as well, moving closer to Ron. Soon, with wands all around, spells at the edge of lips, Lucius Malfoy stood in a center, unarmed. Some wands were aimed towards him while others were aimed elsewhere.

“It so… interesting… when things become,” spoke Lucius, still oddly cool, seemingly unfazed, looking around and finishing with, “Chaotic.”

Lucius looked past Ron, Hermione and the rest to a person behind them.

“Maylen… it’s been some time… still as lovely as ever,” spoke Lucius lightly, oddly un-phased by current position, inquiring, “Will you be joining in this… melee… of opinions?”

Maylen said nothing but gave a look before turning and walking away to the nurse’s office.

As tense as things were, it was amazing that no exchanges occurred as a loud sound of the clearing of a throat drew their attentions. Another wizard stood at the entrance. There stood somebody they had seen earlier that very day but also had not expected to see, at least not so soon. Lucius turned to look as well and smiled wi th devious delight.

“Ah Belmus,” spoke Lucius with pleasure, “Finally another person with some sense.”

Belmus Minet, Rela’s father, stood at the Hospital Wing’s doors. A few folder parchments in one hand and a hard look of displeasure at the scene added to his starch posture.

“Is this a bad time,” stated Mr. Minet, not in question but more of subtle and final request, “I was under the impression that the situation had been… settled.”

“Oh it has.” replied Lucius, looking to his companions, then glancing back, “But there’s always those… minor details… that get involved.”

“I’ll show you something minor,” snapped Ron.

“Quiet you,” retorted Mr. Minet, glancing at Ron, walking forward, “This matter is not of discussion for you.”

Lucius looked so pleased that it was making Hermione sick to her stomach. Seeing the look on McGonagall’s face gave her the impression she wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

As Mr. Minet approached, he eyed Lucius companions, asking “What is your business here, Mr. Malfoy that would require Aurors? I’ve never heard of a governor needing an armed escort upon the grounds of the very school in which they govern.”

“That is true… it’s an unavoidable detail that I feel is most over address in these situations,” answered Malfoy with a sighing sincerity so false even Ron seemed to turn green in his cheeks as Malfoy finished with, “But I don’t make the rules… only follow them.”

“And what situation would that be,” inquired Belmus, now standing before Malfoy, “That you would be handling?”

Instead of answering, Lucius simply reached into his robes and withdrew another parchment, handing it to Mr. Minet. Rela made her way to Ron, clinging heavily to his arm as she looked to her father in fearful puzzlement.

As Mr. Minet read on, Lucius added, “As you can see… its all in order… I’m only following the orders given by our wondrous Ministry.”

“Don’t you ever stop,” snapped Rela, breathing hard, “You haven’t stopped lying… since you’ve stepped in here!”

Lucius turned towards Rela, a smile on his face but a look of clear disgust.

“You have your mother’s beauty,” replied Malfoy lightly but hinting a threat, “But I would hope you have your father’s intelligence to know when not to speak… Miss Minet.”

Before Malfoy could turn back, they saw it. Ron, Hermione and more saw it as the parchment, Mr. Minet was reading lowered just enough for his eyes to protrude over the top. In that moment, he gave Malfoy a piercing and malicious glare they had only seen when Dumbledore mentioned name Macnair. From his gaze, there was little to doubt that a nasty expression was following from behind the parchment. Malfoy turned his attention back to Mr. Minet but not before the parchment rose back up, blocking Mr. Minet’s face to Lucius Malfoy.

“Well just about everything seems in order,” spoke Mr. Minet, folding the parchment and with a professional demeanor handed it back to Lucius.

Lucius gave a most pleasured smile while most everyone else could only stare.

“Thank you Belmus,” replied Lucius, turning to his companions, “Now gather him up… we’re leaving.”

Mr. Minet cleared his throat loudly which drew Malfoy’s attention back to him.

“I said… just about… everything seems in order,” spoke Mr. Minet with a strange tone then asked plainly, “There is still the matter of the guardian.”

Lucius raised a brow to him and replied in question, “Guardian?”

“Ordinance Thirty Two of the Underage Magical Persons code,” answered Mr. Minet, “Clearly states that should the Ministry require taking into custody any underage magical persons, than said persons must be accompanied by designated guardian or have guardian’s written confirmation of required custody.”

“Is that all,” replied Lucius chuckling and then looked to the others in the group, asking, “Very well then… Molly?”

Mrs. Weasley looked at Lucius Malfoy with a face not describable with civil words of her disgust. Mr. Minet, however, spoke before her.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are not Mr. Potter’s guardian,” countered Mr. Minet.

Lucius Malfoy gave a short but clear grunt of frustration and replied, “If you’re referring to the Muggles… I can assure you that they won’t be very cooperative… but I shall see to their contact.”

“But the Dursleys,” began Ron in protest but Mr. Minet also cut him off.

“Yes I am aware of the Muggles… a Mr. and Mrs. Dursley… as well as their… dislike… for the magical kind,” spoke Mr. Minet while giving Lucius a dismissive look and stated, “But they are also not his designated guardians.”

“Well then who is,” snapped Lucius Malfoy slightly curt,” And I’ll be quite happy to fetch that person?”

Mr. Minet withdrew a parchment from his side pocket and gave it a look over.

“According to the wishes set down by James and Lilly Potter,” answered Mr. Minet, “The designated guardian is a one… Black… Sirius Black… you will need to have this person present or written confirmation before taking Mr. Potter into custody.”

Hermione wasn’t sure but it looked as though Lucius Malfoy was dumbfounded at Mr. Minet’s explanation of the guardian. Mr. Minet on the other hand looked as though he had answered a simple question without any significance.

“I know you’ve been living in Germany for some time,” spoke Lucius with a chuckle that gave no sense towards humor, “So you may not realize that Sirius Black is a wanted criminal of the highest caliber… so it’s not likely to be possible for there to any contact with him… let alone for him to be present.”

“Then your order from the Ministry is invalid,” replied Mr. Minet simply, “And suspended until you can fulfill Ordinance Thirty Two.”

It was easy to hear the leather of Lucius Malfoy’s glove as it tightened around his snake headed cane.

“Harry Potter is a dangerous wizard,” stated Lucius Malfoy, his once cool edge melting away in his voice, “And thus needs to be escorted to more secure environment… that way we can complete an inquiry.”

Mr. Minet looked at him plainly, crossed his arms and still with no change in his voice, replied, “If you have no guardian… then you won’t be escorting Mr. Potter anywhere.”

Lucius Malfoy took a deep and long breath with a quick twitch to his eye.

“Belmus, lets not quarrel over details, “spoke Lucius, his coolness returning as stepped forward, placing a hand on Mr. Minet’s shoulder, “I’m sure we can get it all sorted out.”

Mr. Minet glance at Lucius’s leathered bound hand gripping his shoulder and looked back with his eyes squinted. In a move that even surprised the tiring Rela, Mr. Minet broke the crossing over his arms as Mr. Minet smack Lucius Malfoy’s arm away, breaking the hold on his shoulder.

“Our relationship is purely professional,” snapped Mr. Minet, his tone suddenly dark and dangerous, “You will call me Mr. Minet… is that clear Mr. Malfoy?”

A scowl spread on Lucius’s face as the implied insult was not missed. The other wizards with him began to eye Mr. Minet.

“I’m happy to walk you to the Hospital wing,” came an aged and welcomed voice from the hall beyond the doors of the hospital wing, “Though I do not believe it has been that long since your time here.”

Mr. Minet didn’t make any attempt to look but a satisfied smirk grew on his face. Lucius looked on with curiously but also with growing contempt at the sight he saw. Dumbledore stepped through the doorway and looked at everyone with a surprised look.

“You’re right about one thing,” snapped Mr. Minet, glaring at Lucius, “There will be an inquiry… but not on Mr. Potter’s more than questionable behavior.”

As Dumbledore stepped through the doorway, he was not alone as Alan Derricks stepped in with him while four other Aurors who had sour looks for Lucius’s companions stood further behind in the background. Derricks looked very pleased with him-self leaving Dumbledore at the door with the Aurors, crossing the Wing and joining Mr. Minet’s side. Lucius looked from one to the other and though his said nothing at first his demeanor suggested that his once cool attitude was fading rapidly, even gripping his cane tighter. Alan handed Mr. Minet some more parchments and he gave then a glance over.

“It’s curious…you’re a governor… but your duties only extend to the area of education,” stated Mr. Minet quietly but decisively, “Yet you cosigned for the Apparition charm…which prevented and seriously delayed any Auror arrival during the attack.”

“Where did you get those,” snapped Lucius, dropping his cool completely?

“It takes two signatures for an order like this to go through… and in a village… such a request is only allowed on specified buildings,” spoke Alan, ignoring Lucius’s question, “There’s yours here and… the mayor’s… who oddly enough is the one who’s daughter was held captive.”

The stretching of gloves and the groan of wood could be heard as Lucius gripped his cane tighter.

“I was just being helpful,” replied Lucius, is voice evident of forced control, “After all Harry Potter was there… we just wanted to keep him safe.”

Mr. Minet gave a clearly false look of puzzlement to Alan and asked, “How did you know he was going to be there? A charm like this takes over a week to put in place… plus there’s the odd fact that according to the restrictions you delivered your-self… Mr. Potter would not be leaving Hogwarts for the holiday… so how did you know he was going to be at the Weasley household?”

Lucius stared at Mr. Minet darkly and brought his cane up so his other gloved hand could grip it as well. Lucius’s companions did nothing but just watch in despise.

“While you’re considering that,” interjected Derricks calmly, “What about the Dementors? Your signature also is cosigned with the mayor for Dementors to be present. But over twenty were requested? Why would anyone need so many? Not to mention the fact that Azkaban regulations state that no more than ten can be summoned and only if a danger is evidently present.”

Lucius just glared at their practically nonchalant faces, gripping his cane so hard that the wood cracked, nearly snapping it in two.

“Well it seems our business here is done,” stated Lucius darkly, “As you said… we have no guardian… good day then.”

Lucius began to storm away followed by his companions. However just as he started to pass, Mr. Minet brought up his hand and stopped him.

“Three days… three o’ clock,” stated Mr. Minet harshly, “You had better have some real answers by then since its your inquiry… you’ll receiving an owl on the specifics by morning.”

“I doubt that,” snarled Lucius quietly, “What make you think you’ve got anything beside a few coincidences?”

Mr. Minet smiled as if challenged to an enjoyable game.

“Oh I have many things… such as your testimony fourteen years ago that said you never met my wife,” replied Mr. Minet and then changing his tone to something of a dangerous nature as he added, “So how did you know Rela is my daughter or that she looks like her mother? Governors are not privileged to the personal lineage of students so long as its not a danger to others… Whasperors are not dangerous…so how did you know that about my daughter?”

Lucius just seem to growl rather than answer and Mr. Minet slid his blocking hand away and finished with, “Three days at three o’ clock.”

Lucius whispered loudly, “You should reconsider how you do things… you might be seen as a nuisance.”

Mr. Minet just smiled again, which was odd considering his authoritive nature, while Lucius stormed away.

“Baxter, Donaldson and Webber,” snapped Derricks as Lucius companions began to follow him, “I also expect some explanations by the day after as to why you were so quick to help a governor with no ability to enact an order of such a degree… and you will leave with your… colleagues… back to the ministry.”

None of them said anything but continued on, past the other Aurors that surrounded them. Mr. Minet had a surprisingly satisfied look to him.

“Looks like you’re having an enjoyable holiday,” inquired Derricks, humor evident?

“I didn’t get exactly what I wanted,” replied Mr. Minet looking to him, “But I think the substitute might be just as good.”

“Its been too long Belmus,” stated Derricks kindly, extending his hand, “I thought I might never see you again after you left for Germany.”

“I had another concerns to address, “replied Mr. Minet, taking the extended hand, “Before I could satisfy my intentions with Macnair.”

“As sick as it sounds, he’s right,” said Derricks, his voice suddenly more human, “Rela does look like her mother… but she’s got her grandmother’s hair I believe.”

Mr. Minet chuckled and Hermione almost dropped her wand in surprise to see such a change in his demeanor.

“Still able to notice those odd details in situations,“ replied Mr. Minet chuckling, “I thought you’d take you forever to get through the academy… and now you lead the Aurors.”

“The loyal ones anyways,” replied Derricks happily, “But you… head of the law department.”

The situation had changed so fast that no one was able to fully take in what was happening in front of them as even Ron still had his wand drawn and aimed.

“A drink at my place then,” announced Mr. Minet, inviting what appeared to be an age old friend?

“If you’re buying,” replied Derricks.

They broke their handshake and Mr. Minet took a few steps forward approaching his daughter.

“I’m okay,” stated Rela before her father said anything, “I just need to sleep a while.”

‘I’ll see you soon then,” replied Mr. Minet, taking a moment to kiss his daughter’s forehead, “Have a good time.”

Before turning back to leave, he gave Ron a hard look. Then turned and joined by Derricks, started to head out from the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore walked up to Mr. Minet, reaching into a pocket and handed him an unmarked envelop before they exited. Mr. Minet opened it in curiosity and gave Dumbledore a surprised look after viewing its contents.

“Is this,” question Mr. Minet, peering at Dumbledore, “What I think it is?”

Dumbledore gave him a warm smile and answered, “I was going to ask you then… but given the events that occurred… I did not want you to rush into anything without a clear head.”

Mr. Minet closed the envelop back up and began to pocket it within his robes.

“With dark times approaching again,” continued Dumbledore more serious, “I now ask you formally.”

Mr. Minet reached out with his open hand and Dumbledore took hold of it with slight hesitation.

Shaking hands, smirking, Mr. Minet replied in dark humor, “If his kind thinks I’m a nuisance now, then they haven’t seen anything yet.”

Without an explanation, Mr. Minet walked away with Derricks, leaving others unclear to their exchange but Dumbledore stood smiling happily, watching Mr. Minet through his half moon spectacles.

They walked out of the hospital wing, leaving the confused students and professors alike.

“I don’t mean anything bad towards the Weasleys,” inquired Derricks, “But do you really want to leave Rela with them considering everything?”

Mr. Minet stopped walking and Derricks paused by his side, awaiting a response.

“Normally no,” replied Mr. Minet quietly, “After I lost her mother… I swore that nothing would keep me from protecting her… but.”

Derricks said nothing and still awaited Mr. Minet.

“But I’ve seen that boy’s eyes,” continued Mr. Minet, “And they’re not to different than the ones I saw in the mirror years ago … you should have seen him stand against Mr. Malfoy… not a drop of fear.”

“How about his posture,” added Derricks,” Only one person could have taught him that.”

“Yes Moody,” answered Mr. Minet quietly, “It would seem that he sees something in the Weasley boy worth refining… he had him in the training room… the advanced one.”

“Really and not even out of Hogwarts,” inquired Derricks humorously “But you still… don’t like him?”

“I suppose its some natural instinct,” replied Mr. Minet, humor evident in his voice as well, “After all Lauren’s father didn’t like me very much either.”

They walked off, unaware of the closing of a cracked door a distance away.

In the time that followed, Hermione found her-self standing at the landing with McGonagall, watching as Harry was put into a carriage. Mrs. Weasley and the younger witches climbed in. However, Ron climbed up into the driver’s seat, even though there was no horse, drawing his wand and giving a glance to her back before it took off.

“Well Miss Granger, “spoke McGonagall, stating more than asking, “Shall we be off?”

Hermione zipped up her coat just as another carriage came rolling into view. She followed McGonagall into it and rode quietly as it traveled to the gates. Hermione thought back to the news Dumbledore announced as he crossed the Hospital Wing when Mr. Minet and Derricks left. How he said her parents had been informed and we’re requesting her home. How Mrs. Weasley promised that everything would be okay and shushing Ginny who began to protest. Ron did little but mutter an apology and a see you later together in a response. Rela was barely coherent and focused what remained of her fading strength to make it from the hospital wing to the carriage.

“It really was brave of you,” spoke McGonagall breaking the silence and Hermione’s train of thoughts, “To face Harry without a wand.”

Hermione didn’t say anything in response but stared out the carriage window at an endless landscape of trees and hills covered in snow.

“I don’t often say how proud I am of a student, “ continued McGonagall, “I don’t want others to feel discouraged because of another’s achievements.”

At this Hermione did look to McGonagall, puzzled at what she was leading to but also surprised to see her speak so casually.

“If I could I’d award all of you as many points as those counters could hold,” continued McGonagall again, “You each have had to grow up much too soon and not be the children or young adults you should be… and still have a connection so strong… that… I am so proud of.”

“Its worth it,” replied Hermione quietly, “Better than my life was before.”

McGonagall stared more intently Hermione and asked, “What was it like before coming to Hogwarts?”

Hermione smiled a bit and answered, “I wasn’t that popular.”

McGonagall raised a brow and answered a moment later with, “I see.”

The carriage came to a halt outside of a building in Hogsmeade and they stepped out. The door opened and a plump little witch greeted them in her night gown with a sleepy smile.

“Oh Minerva right on time,” greeted the witch, “Please come in from the dreadful cold and I’ll get the package.“

Hermione began to step into the house as the carriage began to roll away but as it did something large growled nearby.

“What was that,” inquired Hermione, beginning to reach into her coat?

“We didn’t come here alone,” answered McGonagall hardly noticing the odd sounds, pushing Hermione into the house, “We were escorted… and lets leave it at that.”

A faint sound of thuds reached Hermione’s ears as the carriage faded away in the dim light of the street lamps.

Hermione glanced out of the window with a slight morbid curiosity to know what could make such sounds but stay hidden in the journey. The plump witch handed McGonagall a wrapped package. Which when opened was revealed to be a lantern. Hermione could only guess at it but McGonagall spoke before hand.

“One way Port keys are easy and allowable,” stated McGonagall, “However special Port keys that can go two ways and still let the object perform its basic function… are strictly regulated by the Ministry… and monitored closely.”

Hermione came closer to look at the lantern more closely. As she looked at it, Hermione had to wonder why they came to Hogsmeade for it and not use it at Hogwarts.

“Shall we be off?” asked McGonagall, “I believe your parents are… anxious to have you home.”

Hermione stepped even closer and took hold of the lantern with her professor. A moment of darkness came and the familiar pulling sensation around her midsection followed. When Hermione opened her eyes, she found her-self on a familiar lane of houses she knew and one she knew all too well. McGonagall placed a hand on Hermione shoulder and looked back at the young witch with a thin smile.

All to soon Hermione found her-elf at the small walk way to the front door of her Muggle home. McGonagall was merely a few steps behind as they went up the walk way to the door. Hermione also found how expectant her parents were as she reached to knock, the door swung open and Hermione was wrapped in a tight embrace.

“Thank heavens, you’re alright,” whispered Hermione’s mother into her ear, relieved.

For a moment, her mother held her their before pulling Hermione inside and allowing McGonagall to step in as well.

“Hermione, “spoke Jean her tone changing when McGonagall stepped in, “Go to your room… I’ll be up later…I want to speak with your head of house.”

Hermione crossed the room, her father giving an encouraging nod as she went into the hallway leading to the stairs. Hermione ascended the stairs to her bedroom as McGonagall stayed with her parents in the living room. Hermione barely made it into her room before hearing the shouting. Rather than go back, Hermione entered her bedroom knowing why her mother was shouting.

As if sensing the troubles to come, Crookshanks laid quietly on the corner of her bed, watching Hermione’s every move and welcoming her home with a slight purr.

“Hello, “greeted Hermione weakly.

With the door closed, her mother’s shouts and her father’s attempts to calm her were dulled. Hermione stood at the door, her back against it, surprised that though she could hear her parents, there didn’t seem to be anything from McGonagall. Walking away from the door, Hermione dropped her bag on the floor by the foot of the bed and continued on to her desk. Crookshanks continued to follow her every move.

Pulling the chair out, Hermione slumped down, surprisingly tired again. She could still hear her mother’s muffled shouts from down stairs. She started to pull off her robes when Crookshanks jumped into her lap and muscled his way against her.

Hermione began to scratch away at his ears and neck while stroking the underside of his chin. The very combination he always likes. After a moment, Crookshanks ignored her attentions and started to poke his head and paw at the side of her robe.

“What are you doing,” inquired Hermione puzzled, lifting her hands to let Crookshanks move more freely.

The cat shoved its flat pug head into her pocket and dug slightly into her legs as he pulled back. With another quick tug, Crookshanks brought his head up, jumped up onto her desk and shook to straighten his orange fur. At first Hermione was just going to laugh the whole thing off until she saw the item dangled in Crookshanks’ mouth.

There Crookshanks sat with a small sack dangling freely from his mouth. The same Dumbledore had given her to send Ron, Rela and her-self to Harry.

Hermione reached for it and Crookshanks left go without a fuss. Odd considering it has string and Crookshanks, like any cat, always like to play with string. Crookshanks hopped off the desk and trotted off.

Feeling the sack and the bits inside, Hermione’s curiosity peeked again and she opened to dump its contents onto the desk surface. Sliding and dropping from the sack came bits of rounded glass and crushed metal.

Picking up the metal, she felt a sting in her hands like a shock. It took only a moment to realized what she was looking at. A pair of glasses which hours ago had been crushed by the hands of the owner as his rage surged from his eyes and sought to obliterate the on set of his anger.

Hermione realized she held and was looking at the remnants of Harry Potter’s glasses.

- But when did Dumbledore get them, - question Hermione?

But for whatever reason Hermione discarded the thought and set to work ignoring the rules of underage magic.

However much time went by, Hermione didn’t know. When the shouting had stopped or dulled, she didn’t know. All that she knew was what lay before. Getting the metal untangled, shaping them right while putting pieces of glass together until after many repair spells, a pair of thin black rimmed glass lay before her, restored and ready to be worn.

Satisfied and delighted, Hermione set her wand down to stared at a pair of perfectly restore glasses. All that remain was for them to adorn the face she wanted to see.

She quickly found a large parchment to wrap the glasses in and a piece of string to tie to an owl’s leg. If she couldn’t put them on her-self then she would see to it they got to where they belonged.

With Harry’s glasses safely wrapped, Hermione dared to creek open her door and listen to what was down stairs. At first she didn’t hear any thing and so risked going further out. After a few steps, she found that the light was out. Figuring her parents had retired for the night, Hermione crept down stairs to the kitchen to place her parcel on the owl stoop. When the owl came to deliver the Daily Prophet she would be able to pay it to take Harry’s glasses to the Burrow. Only she found she would have to wait her turn in the kitchen as that her parents were already there.

Hermione stepped to the side of the kitchen door and listened to her parents’ conversation.

“Well that’s just that,” snapped Jean, “She’s not going back.”

Hermione felt her whole body freeze, realizing she just arrived at a conversation already in progress and not sounding to favorable to her.

“Alright I’ll call the realtor in the morning,” replied Lionel.

Hermione felt sure that her heart had stopped.

“Realtor? What good will that do?” snapped Jean, “They can find us with their magic?”

Hermione’s mind raced with ideas to find some reason to dissuade them.

“We’ll need to move closer to a library,” replied Lionel calmly with an odd tone like mocking.

“What does that have to do with anything,” snapped Jean again, “I’m trying to be serious here or have you forgotten what happened to our daughter?”

“I am being serious, “shouted Lionel suddenly in return, “I’m serious about what we’re going to condemn Hermione to…or have you forgotten what her life was like before that school?”

“I’ll have you know,” began Jean, furiously, before Lionel cut her off!

“No, “snapped Lionel fiercely, “You’ve been shouting enough and you’ve had your say… now it’s my turn… your not fond of the boy… you’re afraid she’s going to get hurt or worse… well here’s something for you… I don’t want that boy within a stone’s throw of her… I don’t want her to go back… and I don’t want her to have anything to do with any of this anymore… but we can’t decide just on what we want either!”

Hermione lost all thought and dared to peek around the door edge. Her mother was sitting at the table, clearly tired and her father was leaning against the sink, looking no better. Her mother was just staring at her father with confusion and maybe surprise for his voice being raised to her.

“Look,” continued Lionel, a taking a breath and calming, “Tell me she hasn’t been happy these few years… tell me that you’re not glad she sending… sending those owl things out to real friends… tell me you don’t feel… feel something when she here on the holidays going on about her adventures and the fun she’s had… tell me that the five or six page letters we get every few days about what she’s learned from doing whatever is better than the one page about grades and what not.”

Still peering around the edge, Hermione watched her mother’s face contort into disapproving agreement. Her father left the sink and came to crouch by his wife’s side taking hold of her hand.

“I know you haven’t forgotten,” spoke Lionel in a sad voice, “Day after day… she would just read books or help us to do things or spend hours on her homework… the other children didn’t take to her… her teachers couldn’t do anything and nothing we did made it better… no playing in the park… no sports… no clubs… no sleepovers… nothing, not even an invite to a birthday party or a welcomed play date.”

Hermione’s memories came flooding back, not to mention her eyes slightly, while her father brought back the terrible reminders.

“No she wasn’t happy,” replied Jean in a defeated tone, “Not like she is now… even after all that I could tell she expected us to let her go right back.”

“You mother was right when she first said it that night… what fourteen years ago,” spoke Lionel quietly, “She said Hermione would be different and she said it every day after that until passing on.”

“So we only have a one choice we can make then,” quietly replied Jean?

Lionel just nodded and his wife turned to him.

“Either we keep her safe but unhappy,” spoke Jean, a light break in her voice, “Or we let her be happy but… not safe.”

A moment of silence seemed to pass and Hermione wasn’t sure if she was breathing at the time.

“I’m not so sure that her safety is really such an issue,” said Lionel in a strange tone, “This is what the sixth time now? That boy… Harry… he’s put him-self first before them… that stone… then the snake thing… and that contest with the lake… then this year’s been that metal ball and Krum… now this… each time when our daughter… when any of them are put into danger… he takes the brunt of it first… I’m tending to think he’ll die before they will.”

Hermione pulled away from the edge of the door and backed up against the wall. She was sure she could feel her heart now as it beat even harder. Hermione had to admit to her-self that he was right; every time the worst of it seem to come Harry went it alone. He wouldn’t let her help him face Voldemort for the stone. He took on the basilisk alone without Ron even with Fawkes coming later; he still had taken the monster on alone. Harry challenged Sirius him-self and even risked the tournament for their safety in the lake. Harry had taken the Bludger’s full force in the Quidditch game and pushed her away to take Krum’s knife to the gullet. In the village when things were at their worst, Harry sent them away from the battle but stayed behind, to stop and maybe even hunt down the dark wizards and witches. As her father said, Harry was and always seemed to put him-self into the worst of it before they did it.

“Hermione probably hasn’t eaten anything since this morning,” spoke Lionel, his words stopping Hermione’s thoughts, “Why don’t you take her something and I’ll make some more coffee.”

Hearing her father’s suggestion and the scrape of a chair, Hermione made a mad dash, as quietly as she could, back across the living room to the stairs and up into her room. She didn’t know how much time was given, so she changed as quickly as possible, pulling off her blouse and skirt to stuff them into the closet while pulling on a night dress. She had just gotten her-self into bed nearly a minute before a knock came to the door and her mother entered.

“Hermione,” whispered Jean, “Are you still awake?”

Hermione sat up and tried as best as possible to look surprised as her mother turned on the lights upon entering.

“Here,” spoke Jean offering a plate of cucumber sandwich squares and glass of juice.

Hermione picked a square and began to nibble away at it slowly as her mother set next to her. For a while, her mother said nothing as Hermione finished the squares followed with sips of the juice.

“I suppose,” spoke Jean placidly, “You’ll want to see Harry as soon as possible.”

Hermione didn’t know how to answer, so she just chewed more slowly, looking away.

“I see,” continued Jean, “Just answer this… is he… is Harry worth it all?”

Hermione looked up to her mother to see a pair of tired but determined eyes looking back. Remembering what her father had mentioned and thinking of all the times Harry had been there for them, every time he had smiled in her direction and risked everything for everyone but it was one more thing that made the answer obvious. Hermione climbed out of bed, leaving the plate and her mother behind as she went to the robes hanging neatly at the desk chair. Hermione reached into a pocket, pulling something out. Hermione walked around the bed to stand before her mother. Jean seemed slightly confused but she watched her daughter open her hand and reveal a badly damaged badge worn by Prefects at Hogwarts.

“There’s a lot of things he could have done… in that room,” answered Hermione, “But all he did was give me back this… again.”

Jean looked back at her daughter.

“Yes,” finished Hermione, “He is… it all is.”

Jean took a deep breath and looked at her daughter’s hopeful eyes. With that she pulled Hermione into her arms for another tight hug.

“Alright,” replied Jean into Hermione’s ear with a sigh, “Get into bed and have a good night’s sleep. Then we’ll pack your things, have our own little Christmas and get you back to the Weasleys.”

Hermione stood stunned in her mother’s arms, unsure of what to say. Jean said nothing more than a good night, took the empty dishes and left with a kiss to her daughter’s head. Hermione climbed back into bed as her mother turned out the light. Hermione closed her eyes and for once hoped morning would come much sooner.

With the door closed Jean leaned against it, both tired and defeated. She looked up to see Lionel coming up the stairs. Lionel just smiled at her as stepped onto the landing.

“We’re taking her to the Weasley’s in the morning,” stated Jean.

Lionel said nothing but took the plate and juice glass from his wife, placing them upon a small table nearby. Jean leaned against him as they walked on to their bedroom to finally retire and awaken early.

Next Chapter:

Man or Monster

Part 2

30. Man or Monster Part 2

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and story affiliations mentioned in this fan fiction all belong to JK Rowling and legal associations. I own nothing of it nor am I profiting from it now and planning too in the future in any way. The only exception of profit is to my self for literary improvement.

Author to Reader Note:

Revised 8/14/05

Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within

Chapter 30

Man or Monster

Part 2

The next morning, the Grangers spent breakfast together. Her mother had gone all out in making things they each like. Her father had even made his special coffee with a mixture of pepper mint and chocolate. It was a ritual they usually enjoyed on special days like this.

After having a wonderful breakfast, one her mother had definitely outdone her her-self on, Hermione’s parents wanted to open a few gifts with their daughter rather than having them all sent by owl. With the discussion her parents had the previous night still fresh in mind, Hermione made no complaint or hint of urgency. Besides, sending everything by owl was difficult and most likely a strain for the winged wonders.

“I think you’ll really like this one. I was guaranteed it’d be a real help for you,” said Hermione’s father handing her a wrapped box.

The label on the box showed it was a shop from Diagon Alley, one of many which provided supplies for students attending Hogwarts. As Hermione undid the bow and removed the wrapping, she wondered what her father could have found that would be of assured usefulness. Hermione went over in her mind what she already had and what could possibly have been an improvement upon without infringing upon Hogwarts rules.

Opening the box, Hermione pulled out and held up an ordinary school bag that was standard to Hogwarts. She had one that was in excellent shape with little wear, so she was wasn’t sure what to say but her father had guessed the confusion.

“Yes it’s a school bag and I may not be able to use magic,” he explained, “But I can still recognize a good investment, magic or not… it has a charm sewn in… I can’t remember how to pronounce it... but here, I’ll show you.”

Hermione handed the bag back to him, curious as to what this so called charm was, hoping he was right and not fooled by some shifty clerk for a sale.

Lionel stood and walked over to a piece of artwork. A thing of metal portraying a dentist with a patient set in the year of the early fifties. A gift from another dentist on one her parents anniversaries.

Lionel walked up to it and heaved it up. Made of metal, it was rather weighty to hold and carry. He slid into the school bag, closed the top and walked back to her. Hermione stood up as he handed it to her. Hermione took hold of the strap and braced for the weight but when the strap slid into her hand, there was almost no notice of the artwork’s weight. Hermione looked at her father as he smiled.

“The charm to make thing’s lighter… with all the books you carry, this ought to make things easier for you.”

All Hermione could do was hug him. Carrying a lot of books did tend to do a bit of a number on her back by the end of the day. Lionel opened the bag and took out the state, hefting it back to its place.

“Actually the shop keeper guaranteed it... but it was someone else who suggested it.”

Hermione sat back down on the floor to gather up the wrappings around her. Lionel came back to sit with his wife.

“A woman was there with her two girls… now that I think about it one of them looked a lot like you when I looked at her… anyways she asked if she could help.”

Lionel shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

“Don’t know why but I suddenly started telling her about you… after a minute or two she turn around and handed me that bag… that’s when the shop clerk told me about it… even demonstrated it.”

Her father looked quite pleased with him-self then, “I think it was quite a good idea… surprising she guessed it so easily.”

“I remember her two girls mainly,” chimed in Jean,” They didn’t say anything but smile the whole time… but you’re right the one had hair almost identical to you.”

Her mother face drew a confused look and added in question, “But I swear when I first saw them, they both had dark hair?”

Lionel just shrugged his shoulders again.

“And their names when she called them to leave? “ continued Jean, “Lu and Nu... I think it was?”

“Yes… I think so,” replied Lionel, looking as he was thinking back to the moment, “Her name was Ben… Bill… no Binkins, that’s it.”

Lionel chuckled a moment and looked at his wife, adding, “I remember she gave you a glance and suggested I stopped by her shop when if I needed something for you.”

“And did you?” inquired Jean with a raised brow.

Lionel replied with a smirk, stood up and began walking away.

“Suppose we should be getting around, you’ve got somewhere to be.”

Jean got up quickly and followed him, still questioning but he just kept a step ahead.

In a short time later, standing at the foot of her bed, Hermione straighten her blouse and flattened her skirt in hurried fashion while looking over her case.

Lets see… a few tops, brush, another skirt, pants, hair band, uniform, tooth brush, socks, slippers, - thought Hermione counting off a list in her head.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and stared down into the case still thinking to her-self what else might be needed. In a huff of frustration, Hermione reached out and closed the lid on her case.

If I need anything else, - decided Hermione, - I’ll just send for it. -

She took hold of the handle and slid the case of the bed onto the floor.

Hermione was about to reach for her coat, lying next to the case but a yowling drew her attention. Hermione looked down beside the bed to see Crookshanks next to his carrier, waiting for Hermione to open it for him.

Hermione smiled and instead, leaned forward, climbing onto her bed to lie on her side. Crookshanks hopped and trotted up her. He rubbed affectionately against her chest and chin, purring.

“You stay here for now,” replied Hermione, taking a moment to stroke his back and scratch behind his ears, “I’ll come back for you before going to Hogwarts.”

With that she nuzzled his face, receiving a lick on the tip of her nose in return. She backed up off the bed and stood. Crookshanks remained, sitting with tail twitching as he watched Hermione straighten her-self up again. Hermione slid on her coat and with a fluff of her hair the preparations were complete except for one last step. Hermione turned to her desk as there was one last thing to retrieve before leaving.

There setting in the middle of her desk was a parchment wrapped package, waiting to be returned to its rightful place. She walked to it and gently took it in hand. Holding the wrapped and now repaired glasses, Hermione thought to her-self how they had come to be possession.

Harry had emerged from the horribly damaged building after sending out the Patronuses. They had already been damaged but only slightly until he took them and crushed them in his own hands. Then there was that look on his face.

A look of hatred and of anger and maybe even… a desire.

Hermione wondered if everything interpreted was what she saw or could part of it have been skewed due to the dementors. Maybe she had seen clearly because of them, taking away the joy and leaving only the hard cold.

Hermione gripped the package tighter fir a moment and then directed it into an inside pocket of her coat.

I won’t decide that now, - thought Hermione turning back and headed for the door, picking up her case in process, - I’ll wait until I see him again. -

Hermione walked out into the hall, leaving the door partly open. However, Hermione never notice that Crookshanks had not remained where he had been.

Her parents awaited downstairs and with the help of a port key, left by Professor McGonagall the previous night, they proceeded to a destination elsewhere. When the moment of nothingness and pulling sensation had passed, they found them-selves in the world again, only elsewhere from the living room a moment before.

Hermione looked around, senses readjusting, taking in the scene she had only seen barely a day before. They were standing on a dirt road, recently cleared of snow. All the trees and small fields amongst them were covered in layer of thick fresh fallen snow. Hermione looked down the road towards the village, evidence of the recent snow there as well.

There were puffs of smoke from stacks upon roofs. In the air, bits of brightly colored lights flickered momentarily, sounds of loud voices carried from down the way to their ears, too muffled and faded to understand but Hermione was willing to guess it was the work of repair after the nightmare the day before.

It would be good to see how things were coming along but it would have to wait. With parents in tow, Hermione turned away to walk up the road to an oddly shaped home that would mystify any muggle studied in the sciences of physics and architectures. However no matter misshapen it may be, the place was still a welcoming sight to see the Burrow in the approaching distance.

After a few minutes, they arrived at the gate to the home’s ground and Hermione was reaching for the latch but stopped suddenly. She felt something under feet, the vibrations of something moving, most likely very large. Some snow fell from the rooftop and more from the trees nearby. The latch of gate even rattled lightly. Hermione strained her ears to listen pass the crunch of falling snow for a clue of what was near. Faintly she heard the multiple breaths, short and heavy along with slight growl.

“Hermione,” whispered Jean by Hermione’s ear, “What is that?”

Her mother had heard it as well and by the look of her father he had as well.

“I think,” replied Hermione, quietly, reaching for her wand, “We’re being watched.”

Hermione felt the hilt and slowly slid her fingers onto it, gripping it. Moving her eyes, scouring the trees, and seeing some branches rustle from movement on the other side.

There was a loud clearing of a throat and it was intentional. Hermione spun around, dropping her bag and pushing her mother aside. Hermione drew her wand at a black cloaked, hooded figure standing behind them on the other side of the road.

The cloak of the person was drawn up around the face leaving only the eyes and small bit of face to be seen. Hermione could just make out a pair of brown eyes, but if this was who she suspected, given the familiar feeling from her insides then those brown eyes were merely the facade of a predator in waiting.

Facing them, the cloak of the figure parted to the sides as gloved hands slid out slowly. The hands gripped the hood on either side and pulled down, revealing someone with familiar blond hair. Still just as slowly, one hand came back around to the face and slid down a zipper, letting a high collar fall away.

Daken Valenor, current Professor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class stood there. Or rather at least what could be recognized of him was standing there. Hermione could hear her mother gasp slightly and Hermione now saw why Daken stood in the shadows in Dumbledore’s office the night before. She hadn’t seen his whole face in the hospital wing but much of the right side of Daken’s face and down that side of his neck was covered in blacked thick scabbed skin from severe burns. His right ear was mostly gone as well and side scalp was bare.

Daken glanced at Jean’s quiet distressed face and grinned at Lionel’s raised brow as he stated, “Don’t worry, it was much worse yesterday, it’ll clear up by tonight.”

Daken turned his attention to Hermione, adding, “And you are being watched.”

Hermione lowered her wand but kept it ready.

“With all that’s happened,” continued Daken, unmoved, “Do you really think Dumbledore would let the Molly bring Harry back here without some… added protection?”

Hermione was about to ask but found Daken raising his hand to point upward above him. Following the direction, Hermione’s gaze locked on to area midway up a large, snow covered pine tree. In between the branches, a soft but definite orange glow emanated.

“Don’t be fooled. His song may invoke the idea of a gentle nature,” spoke Daken, drawing Hermione’s look back to him, “But in an open area like this… he can rip and burn most anything to shreds.”

There was a rustling and Hermione turned her head to see more branches move and snow fall to the ground.

“I don’t think you should ask about that,” stated Daken, now pulling his hood back up, “He appears to be okay with you.”

With his hood up, Daken readjusted his gloves and zipped the collar back around his face and neck.

“I was coming back to check in at the house but since you’re here, I’ll leave it to you.”

Daken chuckled slightly, turned swiftly, letting the cloak swish around and promptly hurried away down the path towards the village, leaving them behind.

“By the way… be careful,” calling back to them, pulling the hood up, a humor in his words, not stopping as he spoke,” I think Ginny’s a little… unnerved… right now.”

Hermione slid wand back in place and snatched up her case as she undid the latch of the gate. Passing through and up the walkway, Hermione preceded with her parents a step behind. Outside the door, she pulled on a chain that rang a bell within and waited. After a few moments there hadn’t been an answer.

She rang the bell again.

- Ginny should be here, - thought Hermione, concern beginning.

That’s when Hermione heard something and moved her ear closer to the door. She wasn’t sure but it had sounded like something clanging shut. Next there came dim hoots of an owl. Scrapping noises followed and thuds from objects falling, even the crashing of something fragile as well. Then there was only silence. In the corner of her eye, Hermione notice the movement of a curtain n the window.

“Hermione,” spoke Jean’s whispering in her ear but she never finished.

Hermione dropped her case and reached for her wand again taking hold of the door handle.

The tips of her fingers had just brushed the metal of the handle, when the door flew open and Hermione found her-self blinded by flaming red hair and a grip so tight that iron clasps would have been more merciful.

“Oh thank you,” sobbed a voice loudly in her ear, “I can’t believe you came.”

Recognizing the voice and knowing only one person with it identified who had ensnared her. Hermione tried to draw in a full breath but Ginny’s near death grip hindered that. Hermione tried to talk to Ginny but wasn’t getting enough air to do mush more than mumble. Ginny was continuing to repeat her thanks over and over which drowned Hermione’s mumbles out.

Instead Hermione wiggled her-self enough so as to get a hold of Ginny’s arms. Heaving with all the remaining might her air starving body could muster, pried her captor’s grip apart. The vice like hold broke and Hermione pushed Ginny back a little, gasping.

“On I’m sorry,” whimpered Ginny as Hermione drew in a large breath.

- She has smaller than me, - thought Hermione in wonder, giving Ginny’s worried look an encouraging smile, -But she has a grip that could teach Devil’s Snare a thing or two. -

Ginny started to back off and let Hermione’s parents come in around her. Hermione took that moment to give a look over in the room.

To say it was in disarray would be an understatement. Much of the furniture was scattered. A sofa and a chair were in place and looked recently cleaned. Much of the knickknacks and other assorted things that had hung on the walls or rested on shelves were knocked down and many broken. The masonry of the fireplace had been damaged enough that stone had fallen in blocking the opening, most likely intentional, which also prevent the use of the floo network. Marks littered the walls were spells had hit, definite signs of a fight.

Hermione couldn’t help but be impressed at first for it seems that Ginny had put up quite a fight before capture. Though she didn’t doubt that Ginny had any ability to defend her-self, another thought came to as well. Could Ginny have been able to put up a fight like this by her-self against experienced wizards? Charlie hadn’t known where she was at the Dungeons tavern and Daken must have left when the trouble started. Hermione shook her head, having finished her breath and decided Ginny was more important right now.

Seeing as she had recovered, Ginny began explaining her-self.

“I sorry… but I almost couldn’t take it anymore… Charlie’s been outside for so long and Bill’s with Dad… and Mum had to take the twins into the village,” answered Ginny, sniffling a bit, her voice beginning to break more and more, “Ron won’t come out of

Harry’s room… and Mum said no one else was to go in there… and then… I’ve been trying.”

Her voice changed into a mumbling whine, covering her face with her hands. Hermione took hold and pulled Ginny to her. Ginny began to sob into Hermione’s shoulder. She could only make out a few words but didn’t interrupt her.

Ginny had been very energetic and even a little comical yesterday.

- I guess it just took a while for Ginny to react to it all, - thought Hermione as the girl cried on, stroking her head, - Just like it did me. -

Jean had found the broom closet and began sweeping up the broken things into a pile while Lionel began to put the furniture back as best as he could remember.

After a few minutes, Ginny seemed to calm down and backed up on her own. Hermione pulled up her sleeve and wiped Ginny’s face. Though still flushed and tired, Ginny did look better now.

“So,” asked Hermione kindly, “How about we start from the beginning? Where’s Charlie?”

Ginny took a deep, relaxing more and answered, pausing as she took more calming breaths in between.

“Charlie’s outside… he’s been out there some time… since coming back from St. Mingo’s last night, he wouldn’t talk to anyone when he came back from St. Mungo’s… he just sat in the kitchen staring out blankly… he wouldn’t even answer to mom… just grumbled nastily when she pressed.”

Hermione remembered back in the tavern, Charlie had been quite aggressive to say the least and he never seemed like that before. Granted she didn’t see him very much but when it much like the way Ron acted with Harry’s uncle.

“And you said Bill was with Mr. Weasley.”

It seemed partly force but Ginny giggled a bit.

“Bill went to the Ministry to help dad… the reporters are swarming him… and since most are witches… dad agreed.”

Hermione could only smirk at hearing about Bill, he did seem to be quite the charmer, from what Ginny had told her before Bill seemed to have girlfriends very frequently, probably more so than Mrs. Weasley would care for.

“You said your mum is with Fred and George?”

“They got into a few scuffles them-selves as well... didn’t get a scratch surprisingly… and the Ministry, trying to make sense of everything, wants statements from everyone… Ron and I already did it when we got home… then mum took them earlier this morning… had to practically drag them they were so tired.”

Hermione had to admit being impressed at hearing that. Fred and George almost seemed like they only did jokes and pranks. She never expected to hear them get into a fight. She did remember seeing them bring people into the tavern. She thought again about Charlie and his actions, also Ron’s attitude of late. Before that there was the time Mr. Weasley scuffled with Mr. Malfoy at the book shop.

- Maybe when pushed, - thought Hermione, -The Weasleys’ don’t stay the nice and kindly family I know them to be. -

It suddenly made her think of a den of wolves sleeping peacefully until intruded upon.

Ginny wiped at her face and Hermione worried she might start to break down again, so pressed on.

“So Ron’s in Harry's room now?”

“Yes, he’s been in there all night… hasn’t left once.”

“What was that I heard earlier? Sounded like something clanging together.”

At the question, Ginny blushed and giggled again before answering.

“Everyone was gone and with Charlie having gone off… I guess I started to panic a bit or something… so I sent Pig off with a letter asking if you could come.”

Hermione raised a brow, not seeing what this had to do with the sound but said nothing.

“After I sent him off, he came back suddenly. I thought maybe I just had a lapse but when I looked at the letter, it was the same. I sent him again and the stupid bird came right back.”

Ginny giggled, followed by a quick breath, clearly still straining to stay calm.

“I snatched him up and opened the oven… I was telling him off and threaten to throw him in there when the bell rang… I stood there and the handle slipped making the oven slam shut… then Pig starting hooting… then I rushed to the window and there you were.”

“I see,” replied Hermione chuckling a bit, trying to imagine the mayhem.

Ginny must have knocked a few more things down in her rush to the door.

Pig was always an odd Owl and at a time like that, it would seem disturbing.

Hermione looked around and realized there was someone else not in the picture either.

“Is Rela still asleep?” inquired Hermione.

Ginny looked at her both surprised and inquisitive.

“Yes, she fell asleep in the carriage,” replied Ginny, staring at her suddenly, “Mum and I changed her when we got back. But she still hasn’t even stirred. Why is that?”

Hermione pushed away some hair that had fallen across Ginny’s face.

“I guess the professor for Hagrid’s class hasn’t taught the fourth years about that yet.”

Ginny looked back at her a little confused.

“Rela’s half Whasperor which means she’s also half magical creature.”

Ginny expression showed she was following but not clearly.

“Hagrid taught us that when a magic creature is badly hurt or has been through a lot with their magic… most rest in a form of hibernation for a while… and Rela did take a Crucio to the chest… and all that running around.”

Realization finally dawned on Ginny and final relief came with one last deep breath.

“Thank you,” stated Ginny, her voice normal again, “I don’t know what I’ve done if I spent another minute like this.”

“Why don’t you stay here then and rest up a bit,” replied Hermione reassuringly, “While I go have a look in at Harry.”

Hermione turned and hurried to the stairs. She had barely gone up the first flight before Ginny’s called to her.

“Wait,” shouted Ginny, “Mum said no one was to go up there.”

Hermione stopped and looked back down to see Ginny at the base of the stairs.

“Well,” replied Hermione with a smirk, “I wasn’t here when she said it… now you sit down and rest up.”

Leaving Ginny at the base, Hermione continued up the stairs, passing the doors of the different bedrooms.

She paused a moment outside Ginny’s, remembering Rela and took a peek in. Ginny’s room was as it usually was. Slightly in disarray, some clothes here and there, actually rather neat compared to what she had seen of the boys’ rooms. However, by Ginny’s bed on a cot, bundled up tightly, showing only her face and silk blond hair, laid Rela. And just has she thought Rela appeared to be in a sleep so deep that only statues could rival her stillness.

Hermione pulled her head back out, shutting the door and heading up to the next door, the only hurdle in path to her goal.

There was nothing too special about it. Just wood, fashioned like any plain door. The laminate finished flaking and splintering from age and mostly like from rough housing given the number of boys in the house. The knob was simple brass with no shine, only a dark brown metal.

As simple as it all was, Hermione found her-self hesitating before it. Her hand had paused part way in reaching for the handle and all she could think was when she last time she did this, it hadn’t been a welcoming situation.

Hermione questioned the hesitation but her attention was drawn away by a whistling outside a window at the top of the stairs. Glancing at it, Hermione felt a cold draft breeze by her from behind and oddly enough it seemed to freeze silent whatever concern or warning that had caused the unexpected trepidation.

Hermione seized the handle, without question now and found it surprising that it wasn’t freezing cold as the last time this situation occurred. She wondered now why she had even expected it. That alone furthered her drive as she turned the rickety handle, the inner mechanism clanking in the twist. She let the door open slowly, its hinges squeaking in the sway.

Hermione stepped into the room as quietly as she could aside from the creaking floor boards under her feet. Rather than finding the room foreboding to enter, instead it is more inviting than expected.

Still in the doorway, Hermione surveyed the room. It was dim, alit by a soft orange like glow emanating from a small wood burner in the room which also was keeping it very warm. It the same type used at Hogwarts in the classrooms or dorms during the coldest times of winter. No doubt borrowed from Hogwarts by a small green friend.

Taking a step in, Hermione found a dresser on one side, books and other minor objects setting on top of it. An open closet on the far side showed some trousers and shirts hanging freely. Harry’s broom also stood within it as well. Ron was setting on the floor, his wand still in hand and head down, snoring slightly. A small night stand with a pitcher and untouched glass of water setting on it, stood next to a bed.

There, buried under unknown number of blankets and maybe even hot water bottles, laid a person revealed only by their face upon a pillow. Leaving the door to sway on its own Hermione moved towards the side of the bed.

She stood there and watched him silently. Harry’s face was still ghostly pale and his normally black untidy hair was still quite dull and flat. The only presence of real color resided with his scar, which was deep red and in a swollen state. Regardless of his state, it was nice to see his face cleansed of the blood and grim of the day prior. Hermione was comforted by the rising covers upon him as breath entered and left his body however weakly.

Having had a look, she decided it was time to head back out and help with the house. She stopped at the foot of the bed where Harry’s trunk sat, more blankets setting on top. With a quick look back to Ron, Hermione grabbed one and walked over to him. She carefully draped it over him, trying to not wake him.

As she straightened up, a thought came to her. Daken had bad burns still on his face and maybe elsewhere but Ron didn’t show any sign of injury yet.

Hermione decided it better to help her parents and Ginny with the house rather than dwell on it. She’d ask Ron later about what happened, if she really wanted to know. With that, Hermione turned, leaving as quietly as she could and shutting the door behind her.

Most of the early day passed on slightly quick. Hermione and Ginny repaired most the simple items. Jean did a bit of cleaning and putting items back with Ginny’s help. The chimney had to be left as it was given no one had nay experience in masonry repair even with magic.

Mrs. Weasley came home with Fred and George dragging in. Mrs. Weasley was delighted to see Hermione’s parents and even embarrassed to find out they had been helping to restore things to a more normal state.

Fred and George gave a quick hello and stumbled up the stairs to their own room, struggling to keep their eyes open.

Mrs. Weasley insisted on lunch and became deaf to any decline from Hermione’s parents at the invitation.

After which the cleaning continued and mostly finished when late afternoon had come. Hermione was just glancing over the living room again checking to see if everything was right again aside from the fireplace, when the door open and closed to Bill’s entrance. At that, Mrs. Weasley popped in from the kitchen.

“Dad says he’ll be home soon,” spoke Bill, guessing what his mother was going to say, walking by Hermione, “Hello there… he’s just going to finish a few papers. Is there any coffee?”

Bill walked by, following his mother into the kitchen. Hermione followed as well but stopped after a few steps. Her foot had stepped on something and there was a sticking sound. Hermione looked down and remembered there had been a large rug on the floor but now it was bare floor boards. There was a large stain in the wood, showing signs of recent attempts to be cleaned. Despite the attempts, it was still sticky and there was a slight foul smell to it.

Hermione decided to wait on that too, seeing as Bill had just come back from the ministry and she wanted to know what he would say.

“Just made a fresh pot,” said Mrs. Weasley, Picking up a large mug and filling it for Bill.

He made a quick greeting to Lionel and Jean, taking the mug from his mother.

“Where’s Charlie?” inquired Bill reaching for a chair.

“He’s still outside… been out there all day,” replied Ginny in a slight irritated tone, “Hardly said a word before that.”

Bill got a look on his face with a small smirk. Rather than sit, he instead went back to the coffee and filled another mug.

“I know where he is,” answered Bill to his mother’s look, “I’ll bring him back.”

And with that he backed out the backdoor.

“I think we’ll have potato soup for dinner,” said Mrs. Weasley after that,” Simple and filling… I think the sack’s in the shed.”

Mrs. Weasley looked ready to go for them but Ginny spoke up instead.

“Let us,” piped up Ginny now a yearning in her voice, “Come on Hermione.”

Ginny didn’t yet for an answer but instead snatched Hermione’s arm and dragged her out.

The door slammed shut behind them as they made their way to the shed.

“Finally,” stated Ginny, “I’ve been wanting out of the house all day.”

Hermione couldn’t argue at the fresh air, cold or not, as they headed towards the shed. Though as they walked Hermione looked around, no sign of branches moving other than a gentle swaying from winter breezes. She didn’t feel anything watching them and felt no vibrations of something big moving around.

Once inside the shed Hermione waited as Ginny scrounged about through some baskets and bags, muttering to her-self at the disorganization. Hermione stood by a swing bench when she thought she heard Bill’s voice. Sure that it was, she moved over to the far wall and found a large crack in the wood. Ginny came over as well, curious to what Hermione was doing. Lowering her head below Hermione, Ginny looked out the crack as well.

Looking through, the two girls saw Charlie standing up against a tree with a small fire burning by his feet. He was staring intently at it, ignoring everything else including the approaching Bill, his face an expression of concern and harshness.

“Charlie?”

They watched Bill trudge through the snow up to Charlie, carrying two mugs of coffee.

“Charlie?” came Bill’s voice loudly again.

Finally Charlie glanced at him but with a look of annoyance than expected greeting. Instead of responding, he just looked back at the fire. Bill looked at him a moment with the same smirk as from the kitchen and leaned up against the tree as well next to Charlie. He held out the spare mug but Charlie just shook his head which made Bill raise a brow.

They stood there, saying nothing to each other for a moment.

“So,” sighed Bill, looking sideways at Charlie and asking, “Who is she?”

Ginny made a tiny gasp and Hermione couldn’t deny her own sudden interest in such an abrupt question.

“What,” replied Charlie curtly?

“Who is she?”

“Who is who?”

Bill gave his brother a knowing and serious look.

“I know you well enough to know that you only brood like this for one of two reasons, “ stated Bill plainly, “Either something with one of your dragons… or a witch’s got you knotted up.”

Charlie made a face. Bill took another sip of his coffee and let another moment silence pass between them.

“Given that you went to St. Mungo’s after getting that owl and took off without a word. And since they don’t treat dragons there, means it’s a witch… a woman… so, like I asked, who is she?”

“Just leave it,” replied Charlie plainly.

“Alright but you know if you keep acting like this, mum will start pestering you. Sure you don’t want to tell me.”

Bill offered the coffee again and surprisingly, Charlie swung out his arm knocked it away. The coffee spilled out as the mug fell to the snow.

“I said leave it!”

“Charlie,” replied Bill calmly.

“No Bill,” snapped Charlie,” I don’t want any damn coffee and I don’t want to chat!”

Charlie stepped away, over the small fire closer to the shed.

“Have I met her?” replied Bill, a surprised look on his face, watching Charlie.

“I’m not going to play this game,” replied Charlie, now threateningly.

“Look Charlie, I’m just trying to.”

“I know what you’re trying to do! And I said no!”

“Charlie”

At that Charlie whirled around and rounded on him.

“You wouldn’t understand! You say you know me well I know you too! Women are like jewels too you! You find a nice one and then you get bored and traded it in for something with a new cut!”

Bill stayed calm but his expression showed his dislike at the insulting remarks. His words had an edge of warning to them which was a surprising at first to Hermione but made her think again of her den of wolves thought before.

“Every witch I have been with knew very well I was not intending on anything long term. And if you want to talk track records, you aren’t exactly scoring points as the most traditional, given that you and I have had nearly the same number of girlfriends.”

Charlie didn’t respond back right away and Bill’s voice changed back.

“And this isn’t about me, this about you. I’m not trying to make fun. I’m concerned with seeing you act this way. You’ve brooded before but you’ve never lashed out at me or ignored people. You’ve left Ginny almost entirely by her-self and that is not like you.”

Bill paused and finished his coffee. Licking his lips and shaking his head a bit.

“So how important is this woman to you?”

Charlie didn’t answer still but turn back to face the wall of the shed.

Bill chuckled disapprovingly at the silence.

“Come on Charlie talk to me, “snapped Bill, “I mean it’s not like you were going to marry her or something.”

At that moment, Charlie face darkened as he looked at the shed. Hermione was almost sure he had seen them and wondered how she would explain. Instead Charlie reached into his pocket and tossed something over his shoulder. Bill caught it with his free hand without effort. Holding his hand open, Hermione and Ginny could see a small black box setting in it.

Bill just stared at Charlie from behind, a completely stunned look on his face. Ginny gasped quietly and Hermione found her-self doing the same.

“You were… tomorrow… no you weren’t,” babbled Bill, trying to take in what he had just learned, “You… I… I didn’t.”

Now Charlie turned his head to him. The information seemed to finally sink into Bill.

“No wonder you wanted me here early,” said Bill coherently,” But the last witch I knew of was Cyndi, the one almost a stubborn as you are.”

“Still is,” replied Charlie quietly.

“Her?” questioned Bill, “Well yeah I’d agree that be a smart match but I guess… well I guess I expected it would be me before you… given how stubborn you are as well.”

“Guess I beat you to it,” replied Charlie, turning and stepping over the fire back to his brother’s side.

Bill looked at the box some more in his hand and opened the lid. He seemed surprised by the contents. Charlie rested up against the tree again and oddly looked a great deal better.

“She was at Dorrigan’s inn.”

Bill’s eyes went wide as he closed the lid of the jewel box.

“There were three of them… story is they told everyone to stay their place… but like you said Cyndi’s stubborn… she doesn’t fear dragons so they didn’t scare her.”

Bill handed the box over to Charlie, never saying a word.

“They… they hit her hard... but she wasn’t going to go down.”

Charlie’s voice broke a bit but cleared his throat.

“One of them was about to finish her off but someone else got in their way.

Bill’s eyes turned and glared in curious focus.

“From what Dorrigan said, Harry walked in and flattened them out… maybe it was his eyes or something but Cyndi tried to use a spell on him.”

Now Bill’s curiosity went to concern and bracing for the worst to hear.

“He petrified her.”

Bill just stared at him and Hermione found it hard to take in that Harry had done something so harsh.

“According to the doctor… the petrification… it uh…it saved her life.”

Bill went wide eyed at that statement.

“The wounds were bleeding; she wouldn’t have had much time.”

Bill’s surprised faded and a thought crossed his face.

“And petrification,” interjected Bill suddenly, “Halts any further movement of the body including blood flow… that’s pretty smart… use one curse to stop the effects of another.”

“I thought Potter was too dangerous to have here. I was wrong,” stated Charlie, rubbing his arm suddenly, “He seemed too aggressive to me.”

“He may be,” replied Bill, “They may have attacked here because of him.”

“No,” stated Charlie, shaking his head, “You know it all happened too fast with Dementors and an anti apparating charm like that. You can’t put up a charm like that in big area without setting off alarms. That could only have been done through the Ministry and they take forever with approvals. No they did it too quick to be that well prepared.”

“You’re thinking they were going to go for Hogwarts or here, you mean?” question Bill and added, speaking more to him-self than Charlie, “That would explain why they canceled the search at Hogwarts so suddenly… and the mayor’s daughter… they preparing for either possibility.”

“I know it sounds wrong but I rather glad it was here,” and he answered Bill’s expression before it formed, “Because I got to get my hands on them.”

“What about Cyndi,” inquired Bill?

“I wasn’t even sure if I would ask her,” he replied quietly, rolling the jewel box round in his hand, “But after I got that owl, I realized how badly I wanted her in my life.”

“Looks like you owe Harry one then,” chuckled Bill hesitantly

Charlie nodded in consent.

Bill reached down and picked up the fallen mug and then asked, “How did they know to owl you?”

“Cyndi had a picture of me on her,” answered Charlie and with a grin added,” Jackie there recognized it.”

Bill nodded his head with a smirk.

“Mum will have supper on soon and dad soon to be back before much longer.”

With that Bill strode off. Charlie just stood there now looking at the box him-self.

“What are you two doing?” exclaimed Mrs. Weasley.

Hermione straightened up in a hurry just in time otherwise Ginny would have smacked her right in the jaw.

“What are you looking at?” continued Mrs. Weasley.

“Deer,” stated Ginny in stunned surprise, “Some deer were there.”

Mrs. Weasley raised a brow at them and shook her head.

“Well at least something’s back to normal around here.”

Mrs. Weasley turned and headed back to the shed door, pausing by the swing a moment and then continuing on. A barrel sat by the door where she reached in and pulled out a potato sack while exiting through the shed door.

Ginny suddenly broke into giggles and Hermione sighed in relief.

“We better go before Bill gets there,’ stated Ginny and she hurried off still giggling slightly.

Hermione started to follow and paused by the swing as well.

- Mrs. Weasley really likes this, - thought Hermione as she placed her hand on it.

She rubbed her hand on one of the supporting beams in sudden confusion.

“Its cold out,” whispered Hermione, “But the wood is still warm?”

Hermione was about to investigate further Ginny’s voice called out to her. Hermione bit her lip in frustration now. So many things were happening along with so many waiting questions and still not a chance to pursue any of it. Hermione hurried out the shed door with only a quick look back. That look told her something as well. One of the wooden planks was missing the back of the swing.

Back in the kitchen, they had just gotten the potatoes out and began peeling when Bill walked in.

“Did you find Charlie?”

Mrs. Weasley immediately questioned before the door had even shut.

He just grinned replying, “Yep, a good friend of his got hurt… they were here to pay a visit when… well when everything happened.”

Mrs. Weasley looked relieved and became much more relaxed.

“Well then let’s get this brew going than shall we.”

Ginny and Hermione peeled and diced every potato and vegetable placed in front of them. Ginny chatted on about things; apparently back to her-self again. Mrs. Weasley popped in and out of the kitchen to check on everything being cooked and helping the Grangers who were declining to rest but instead aid in restoring the Weasley homestead. Bill had begun working on the fireplace and chimney. Charlie finally came in and before his mother could say a word he kissed her forehead, threw off his jacket and joined Bill.

Through all that, late afternoon went to mid evening and Molly head a dinner of potato soup and more that could give the feasts of Hogwarts some competition.

Hermione wondered if Mrs. Weasley’s cooking was similar to potion making. It seemed to call to everybody, drawing them like sweet nectar to starved humming birds. Bill and Charlie had finished the repairs to the mason work of the chimney and fireplace then hurried through a quick cleaning. Fred and George were wakened by it and groggily stepped into the kitchen with sleepy grins. Ron even made an appearance though stayed quiet. Hermione’s parents made no refusal either.

Just as she was setting, the front door opened and closed which caused Mrs. Weasley to rush out of the kitchen. Voices carried back in the kitchen.

“Daken, Arthur finally!” cried Mrs. Weasley, “Finally, I was beginning to think you had decided to live there.”

“He might have if I hadn’t found him,” replied Daken’s voice, “That place is insane right now.”

“Sorry about that,” spoke Mr. Weasley’s voice brightly, “Mr. Minet asked me to answer some questions for him… and do a couple of other things… I wanted to call home but finding a fireplace or an owl was harder than getting the twins to behave for five minutes.”

“Its true,” whispered George, “Our best time is just over three minutes so far.”

Ginny giggled covering her mouth and even Ron laughed, Hermione could only grin in agreement but her parents were a little surprised.

Mr. Weasley came in and joined his wife at the table. Daken followed but stood at the counter. Nibbling at a small bowl of soup, Daken had poured the contents of a silver flask into it, making a very red color. Hermione hoped she wouldn’t have to explain to her parents why. Thankfully Daken did look much better. His ear was nearly formed and hair was growing nicely back in place. He wasn’t wearing gloves now but his hands had black spots to them.

“Should I try to rouse Rela?” inquire Ginny.

“No,” replied Mrs. Weasley, “She’ll wake up when ready and we’ll have some of this waiting.”

A good amount of time passed. Stories shared were, especially between the Grangers and Mr. Weasley as to muggle customs of the holidays. Bill and Charlie were conversing with the twins on a number of things, Hermione couldn’t keep up as they would change subjects so fast. Ginny moved between conversations with her and Mrs. Weasley. Ron didn’t talk much but he seemed to have a content look on his face. Daken seemed much the same as he had adjusted to sitting on the counter, resting his head against a cabinet.

Hermione rather enjoyed seeing everybody so comfortable but she didn’t deny that there were still two people missing. Both who had made large sacrifices to help. Hermione tried not to show her thoughts of that but wasn’t sure if anybody had noticed.

Dinner ended and Molly shooed everyone out, firmly denying any help. She had big pot of coffee made and mugs ready for everyone to take into the mostly restored living room.

A roaring fire burned brightly and happily in the new fireplace as they finished the pot Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley inquired if anyone would like a stronger drink and shot down the twins before they could even make the attempt but had a glass ready for Daken without waiting for his response. He took and sipped at it hungrily.

The clock finally chimed at eleven o clock, surprising everyone that so much time had passed. Lionel and Jean decided the day was over for them and after a long hug with their daughter, Hermione sent them home with the portkey.

Mrs. Weasley took that as a cue as well as she stated, “Alright, everyone to bed or at least back to bed as the case may be.”

“But mum,” said Ginny hurriedly, “We haven’t put up the tree yet.”

Mrs. Weasley brushed Ginny’s face and replied, “We’ll do it in the morning… so all the more reason to get going.”

Ginny gave a small grin and said good night before heading to the stairs.

Mrs. Weasley turned to those still sitting in the living and with hands on hips she stated firmly, “That goes for everyone.”

Bill and Charlie didn’t say a word but urge Fred and George to their feet towards the stairs. Ron set his mug on the tray and followed.

They wished her goodnight and headed up the stairs.

“Sleep in your room tonight,” called up Mrs. Weasley to Ron,” I want you to have a good night’s rest.”

Ron didn’t argue as he passed by Harry’s door and continued to his room.

Hermione had waited to be last to asked, “Would you like some help?”

“Good night Hermione,” replied Mrs. Weasley, “Another cot is all ready for you.”

“But”

“Good night,” repeated Mrs. Weasley as Hermione watched her walk into the kitchen.

With that Hermione went up the stairs as well and entered Ginny’s room.

“Well now I’ll get those dishes done,” spoke Mrs. Weasley aloud to her-self.

However she found a surprise instead. Everything was already washed and laid out drying.

“But when?” whispered Mrs. Weasley, a little taken back.

She stood at the table to see every one of her pots and pans along with every dish and mug all scrubbed clean and sparkling in the evening light

“Damn,” answered Daken stepping in, grunting, “That elf is quiet.”

There was a soft thud as Mr. Weasley appeared from the basement door and setting down some boxes he had brought up.

Mrs. Weasley smiled at his sight and headed out of the kitchen.

“Well that leaves more time for the tree then,” replied Mrs. Weasley cheerily.

Daken raised his brow at her and questioned, “I thought you told Ginny about doing it in the morning?”

“I did,” answered Mrs. Weasley and gave him s quick look, “But I want to put it up now.”

Daken laughed lightly and head for the front door.

“Where you headed?” inquired Mr. Weasley.

Daken adjust his cloak and slid on his gloves answering with, “I want to check things in the village again.”

“Well don’t stay out too late,” cautioned Mrs. Weasley,” You’re not all vampire.”

Daken left and the two Weasleys ended their night in a decorating frenzy.

At some hour in the night, Hermione was awakened by a sudden chilled draft. She sat up and took a sleepy look around the room. Rela was still fast asleep and no sign of soon awakening. Ginny was asleep as well, some hair dangling on her face and wafting with each breath.

Hermione shook of the chill and nestled back into a comfortable position. However instead of falling back asleep, Hermione found her-self suddenly restless and becoming more awake with each passing moment.

With a groan of tired frustration, Hermione climbed out of her cot and into her robe. Her wand lay under the pillow and she pulled out to tuck into a side pocket. With a yawn she headed for the door, deciding to get a drink since being up now.

She opened the door with a loud creak and looked to the others. Ginny and Rela made no indication of noticed movement and Hermione couldn’t deny being a little jealous of them being able to sleep so soundly.

She stepped out onto the landing of the stairs, quietly closing the door behind her. She looked over her shoulder at the closed door of Harry’s room and considered checking in but he hadn’t stirred since last seeing him.

- I’ll just have to be patience – thought Hermione, heading down the stairs.

She crossed the living room into the kitchen.

Hermione filled a glass with water and leaned against the sink looking out the window to the starlit sky and snow glowing in the moonlight.

Then she heard something, a sound both faint but clear. She turned, sliding her hand into her pocket. There didn’t appear to be anybody there. She looked through the doorway from where she stood, waiting. Hermione was sure something was there.

She set the glass down as quietly as possible and moved with as much stealth her robe would allow. Hermione circle the kitchen, drawing her wand in the process. She stepped to the doorway and began to pass through it.

There it was again, small and faint, but it seemed to be purposely getting her attention. Hermione tried to focus as it didn’t sound like something human but rather… like an animal. A feeling said she had heard it before. It came again and Hermione knew it was in the direction of the stairs. Turning fast, looking between the posts of the railing, she saw something small and orange colored rush up the stairs.

Hermione ran, rounded the base of the stairs and moved as fast as her legs would let her. Whatever it was, it had escaped sight as she moved up the stairs but did see something that shouldn’t have been. The door to Harry’s room was open, just a little but it was open when it had surely been shut before.

She moved along the wall and the doors to the rooms of the others. Something in her mind shouted to open one and alert someone but another said to continue without doing so.

She the edge of Harry’s door and leaned in closer. Hermione could hear a faint talking voice on and off along light movement, it sound like only one person but whoever it was, they were talking to someone and not getting a verbal response.

Hermione gently placed her hand on the door. It squeaky a little and she cursed to her-self as the room went quiet.

Hermione waited, each heartbeat growing louder in her ears, sure that it was loud enough for the unknown person to hear it as well.

Since Harry was in there, Hermione knew this waiting game was not in her favor and decided she may as well go in. Relying on the high possibility that whatever happens there would be noise and hopefully enough to wake the others.

In a quick move, Hermione pushed the door open and hurried in. Her wand held out and and a leg locker curse at the tip of the tongue. The door swung freely, thudding lightly against the wall. Hermione scanned the room for whatever talking a moment ago but she saw no one. She didn’t see anyone and nothing seemed out place initially.

That was until she heard the sounds again. This time so close it was next to her. It sounded like something that meowed like a cat at her.

Hermione looked down and there at the foot of Harry’s bed, lying comfortably on a spare folded blanket on top of a school trunk was an orange cat with a flat pug face, with its tail twitching and looking unconcerned up at her.

“Crookshanks,” whispered Hermione, taking a relieving breath,” You almost got to find out what a leg locker curse would do to a cat.”

Crookshanks just looked at her, licking his jaw a moment, tail still lightly twitching.

Hermione pocketed her wand and moved to set next to her cat. As soon as she sat down, Crookshanks was in her lap, rubbing and purring quite happily. She scratched at his ears and under his chin. Then she stopped and Crookshanks just looked at her waiting for more attention.

“Hold on,” said Hermione, looking at her cat questioningly,” I didn’t bring you with me. So how did you get here?”

Crookshanks walked off her lap and dropped to the floor. She watched him circle the trunk and she leaned over to watch. Crookshanks stopped at the side of the trunk where something sat, wrapped in a raggedy cloth and tied at the top. The cat rubbed up against the cloth, then sat down next to it and let off another meow to her.

Hermione reached down cautiously and picked up the wrapped it item. She felt something move inside. Glancing at Crookshanks, who sat on the floor and watched her, Hermione undid the string and let the ragged cloth fall down. The wrapped contents turned out to a jar filled with a sluggish gray liquid, swirling thickly inside. She took a hard look at it and her thoughts went rapid.

- It couldn’t be, – she thought, - There’s way too much.-

Hermione slid off the trunk and placed the jar next to her. She dropped the spare blanket and ragged cloth to the floor and Crookshanks promptly took after the string. Hermione opened Harry’s trunk and rummaged inside. She found his current Herbology book and drew her wand again, calling the Lumos spell forth for more light.

Flipping through the pages assured of where the text was she found what she had been looking for and read the introduction page on the subject.

Maldibourn Honey

Originates from the Maldibourn Flower

Date of Discovery 1742

Named after Aleen Maldibourn; a witch who ingested it as part of a journey to find new ingredients to improve her baked goods made and sold at market.

The plant it-self is extremely poisonous however the sap from its flower is quite the opposite. The healing powers are suppose to have similar results to the fabled theory of the healing abilities of a phoenix’s tears.

Due to the extreme lack of wild growth of the flower, since discovery, many attempts have been made to cultivate the flower for mass production of the sap it develops.

Unfortunately the fullest extent of the sap and its creation is as much a mystery as the growth of the flower it-self. Among the many the attempts for cultivation, at least up until the release of this book, no one on record has been able to successfully raise more than two or three flowers at best. Studies still continue to determine what conditions and needs must be met for successful growth of the flower.

Once the flower is fully grown and blooms, it will develop the sap within hours. Its sap can then be collected and processed for use. To process the sap, one only needs to allow it to congeal within a container in a cool place. The once brownish yellow sap will then thicken into a honey like state and turn a dark grayish color.

Direct application of the Maldibourn honey can heal, theoretically, any wound. Again due to the lack of resourceful access, both from wild growth and cultivation, direct application is not used in common medical practice. The essence of the healing powers can be transferred to a potion by simply adding it as an ingredient but the results are less effective as it becomes diluted from brewing.

Please note that because of the extensive healing power the sap holds and because of its rarity, Ministry Ordinance 512 of the Moral Code of Conduct of Magical Persons orders that any sap in the form of processed honey or living Maldibourn plant found be reported or turned in for fair compensation to nearest Ministry or St. Mungo division.

Further details continued on page 512.

Hermione closed the book and set it back in the trunk. Closing the lid, Hermione rose to sit on it taking the jar up as well. She peered at its contents, thoughts running by options. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder at Harry still wondering.

Hermione didn’t have her potions kit, as had left her school things at home but there was still Harry’s. With it she could tell if the contents were real but the problem was it would take quite a bit of time and no assurance that Harry had enough ingredients to suffice. A few more options crossed her mind but each was unlikely or required a lot of effort that could cause trouble.

Hermione glanced at Harry and made a final decision. One which involved the simplest option and that was just to try it.

With some effort, she twisted the cork top and broke the wax seal. Hermione set the jar and cork top on the lid of the trunk next to her, drawing her wand.

Hermione rolled up the sleeve of her left arm and chose a spot of her under arm.

“Incendio,” whispered Hermione, as the tip of the wand ignited with a blue flame.

She held the tip close to the under part of her arm and felt the heat of the flame begin to singe the hairs there.

Her sensibility screamed at the stupidity of this action but made she had made her choice. Harry was willing and did suffer great injury for her and Ron’s sake in the past. Those thoughts quieted the resistance in her.

With a quick breath and bit her tongue, Hermione pushed the tip of her wand to the skin and pulled away. She had tears in her eyes before the burning pain surging through her arm to brain fully register it-self. It subsided quickly and the area felt both numb and painful at once.

Opening her eyes, Hermione looked at small burned spot on the under part of her fore arm. Blood pooled around blackened flesh and shriveled skin. It was no bigger than the size of knut in area but the burn felt much larger. She found her-self breathing hard suddenly since it still hurt so much.

Hermione quickly set her wand down and placed her free hand into the jar, letting the honey stick to her fingers. She withdrew a small globule and held it near the burned spot as a small trickle of blood started to stream down her arm.

Biting her tongue again, Hermione pressed the substance onto the burn and smeared it around. Surprising there was the no pain as the area went completely numb.

She sat there and watched as the gray substance started to turn white and bubble as if it were being heated. She heard faint crackling and the numb sensation faded to heavy prickly feeling. The substance started to become clear and saw as the burn shriveled skin started to flake off like bits of dirt and blood faded away.

The pain was gone and Hermione used her wand hand to wipe away the residue. It was sticky like glue but as it wiped away, it left only a missing burn. No scars or tenderness. It was as if nothing happened. The only evidence was that of the memory in her mind and the stain of blood that had trickled along her arm, now dried with losing its source.

Encouraged now, Hermione picked up the jar along with her wand and stood up, hurrying around to Harry’s side.

She called the Lumos spell again and balanced the wand on the glass of water so that it would illuminate Harry better.

Kneeling down, Hermione pulled Harry’s blankets back. Reached for his shirt and began to unbutton it. She had gone about half way, seeing his chest become more exposed with each undone button and went still when her finger tip brushed the skin.

She felt her face begin to heat and shook it off.

In order to apply the honey, it would need to be put directly on the skin.

But as she finished undoing the buttons, the sound of her heartbeat started to get very loud and beat faster.

- What are you doing? – She thought to her-self, - Its not like it’s the first time I’ve seen him without a shirt on -

She tried to calm her-self with reminders that this was to apply the Maldibourn Honey

But another though in her mind pointed out a simple but poignant fact. This would not be like a hug or kiss to the cheek or even a brush of hand to the face. This would involve more contact, even if it was to be just his chest; it was still a further step down an unknown path.

She pushed the shirt halves to either side and felt almost certain that her face would need some of the honey as it seem to burn hotly now. She forced the thoughts to the back of her mind by focusing on applying the honey.

Hermione picked up the jar and held it over Harry, looking over the area. Most of his chest still had long scabbed cuts and large dark bruises the size of cricket balls. His side was nearly black from the broken rib. She could only imagine how much it hurt and that caused a chill in her which froze any further delaying inhibitions.

Hermione tipped the jar and used her free hand to guide the gooey substance out onto Harry’s chest. She let a good portion of it pour out before tipping it back up and setting the jar back on the floor. Using both hands, she slowly and gently massaged the honey in circles over the skin, feeling it begin to crackle and bubble between her fingers. Though initially gooey and thick, the honey seemed to melt on the warm flesh and spread easily. She made sure to get a good amount of it to his side and hope she wasn’t pushing too hard but Harry made no movement of discomfort. The honey sizzled all over, louder than before but the scabbed wounds broke away and the bruises lightened until they couldn’t be seen.

It took longer with Harry’s side but the near black coloring slowly lightened and left only a red area, a sign of remaining tenderness.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed but the sizzling and bubbling eventually stopped as the dark grey honey cleared to the same sticky residue littered with dried bits of scabbed skin. The best result was that his pale skin had taken back a pinkish color and it even looked as it if breathing for Harry had become easier.

Hermione lifted her hands away, satisfied at the results. Her hands now tingled with a bit if numbness and it was difficult to move her fingers as the sticky residue had nearly cemented them together. Hermione attempted to get up without using her hands but it was difficult as her night dressing hindered movement. She made another attempt but stopped when she heard a squeak and click of a handle latch.

Looking at the door, remembering that she had been left ajar but now it was closed. Hermione also remembered having heard movement prior to entering the room. Wondering whether to reach for her wand, as something with long pointed ears, big eyes and green skin looked over at her from the opposite side of Harry’s bed. It took only a moment to recognize it and her worries soothed but embarrassment to soar suddenly.

She could feel her face burn again maybe more so than the heat of the wood burner as Dobby stared at her.

“Dobby,” whispered Hermione, practically horrified?

“Miss,” whispered the elf, in a strangely quiet and placid tone, “You find Dobby’s present.”

“That was you?” questioned Hermione, remembering the sounds she heard earlier and then glancing at the jar beside her, asking, “You brought the Maldibourn honey?”

Dobby nodded his head and replied with his tone still the same, “Dobby went to get fresh cloths and water… but when Dobby come back… Dobby find door open and Miss using honey.”

Hermione was sure her face was going to burst into flame. Dobby came around Harry’s bed with cloths in one hand and very small bucket in the other. He set the items down and put one of the clothes into the bucket. Hermione didn’t know which was worse at the moment, knowing that Dobby had seen her or that she now sat on the floor, practically helpless, unable to stand with both hands too sticky to do much with. Dobby pulled the cloth back out of the bucket, wrung it a few times and handed it to Hermione. Whatever it was that was mixed with the water had faint, terrible odor but as she started to use it, the sticky residue of the honey came right off. Hermione was about to inquire further but Dobby spoke up first.

“Dobby will not say anything about this,” stated the elf, his placid tone slightly pleading now, “If Miss won’t tell about Dobby.”

“Tell about you? What would I have to tell?” questioned Hermione, then remembered what the book said about finding the honey and that even Snape had said it was law to turn it in and replied, “Of course not… I would never do that to you… even if you hadn’t… seen this.”

The elf smiled, turned around and with another cloth dampened by the mix in the bucket, Dobby began to wipe away at Harry’s chest.

“Shouldn’t we wait a while first,” inquired Hermione, “It’s only been a few minutes?”

Dobby shook his head and answered, “No… all done.”

Hermione finished wiping her wands and even the spot on her arm before dropping the cloth back into Dobby’s bucket. It then occurred to her as the cloth sunk in the mixture that not only did Dobby know how to clean off the residue but he also had brought what could be considered an extraordinary large amount of Maldibourn honey.

“Dobby,” began Hermione, trying to word her question carefully, “How did you know what this would do?”

Dobby paused for a second and then continued, answering, “Dobby know many things.”

“Okay,” replied Hermione and then picked up the jar, looking at the amount and asking,

“Do you mind if I ask where you got all this?”

Dobby stopped again but this time turned his head to glance at her and for the first time, Dobby seemed to look at her with a mixture of doubt and wonder.

After a moment, he turned back to Harry and answered quietly, “Dobby grow flower.”

Hermione looked at the jar again and then back to Dobby, wondering how far she could go in this.

“Dobby… there’s almost two litters in this jar,” spoke Hermione, hoping that she didn’t sound accusatory as she asked, “In class Professor Sprout said that one flower barely produces an ounce of sap… this all didn’t come from one flower did it?”

Dobby didn’t stop or even acknowledge Hermione’s question but continued to clean off the residue and refreshing his cloth intermittently.

“Dobby,” began Hermione again but the elf cut her off.

“Yes,” spoke the elf, “Dobby grow many flowers.”

“But no one has been able to,” began Hermione but again Dobby cut her off.

“No human,” stated Dobby, “But Dobby is elf.”

Hermione stared at the elf and then quickly slid across the floor, closer to Dobby.

“You’re a magic creature,” whispered Hermione suddenly surprised, “And yours is based in earth… it must be completely natural for you to be able to grow things.”

Dobby glanced at her before turning and refreshing his cloth again.

“How come no one’s asked elves to do this,” question Hermione more aloud than actually to Dobby, “Or tried anything of the like?”

“Humans think they can do it all,” answered Dobby, “Humans expect elves to cook and clean… simple things… they not think elves can do anything better.”

Hermione furrowed her brow a bit and looked away.

“No… Dobby is wrong,” spoke up the elf, looking at Hermione with a small smile, “Most humans think that… but not you or Harry… but to many elf is servant and no more.”

“How did it ever come to that?” questioned Hermione slightly upset, “I mean this alone is incredible… not forgetting everything else you’ve done… but how did it ever become that humans and elves became this way… it couldn’t have always been like this? I never seen anything in the books I’ve read.”

Dobby’s ears lowered a bit and his eyes squinted in thought as he stood still facing Harry, still wiping away.

“Dobby told… that long ago… long before Dobby’s mother born… long before Dobby’s mother’s mother born and longer than before that,” explained Dobby quietly, looking out at nothing particular but the air, “War happened between elves and another… but elves not strong enough to win… humans help elves… but elf home destroyed… elves no where to go… but humans offer home in their world… and elves make pact to live with humans.”

“Then,” whispered Hermione disheartened, crossing her arms” We enslaved you.”

Dobby turned to Hermione and placed a damp hand on her arm.

“It was change in world,” replied Dobby encouragingly, “And long time ago… humans and elves forget… things still change… some good, some bad… but all changes.”

Hermione stared at the elf with confused curiosity and Dobby continued.

“Dobby live long enough to know that everything changes… bad things come and go… good things come and go,” explained Dobby quietly, “When those like you… start coming into magic world… Purebloods not worry… later there many more and Purebloods get worried… bad things came and later bad things went away… now many Purebloods gone, marry those like you or die… change… world of magic, home to Purebloods no longer… not just elves but many now live with humans… long ago elves made choice best for them then… with world changing, time of elves serving Purebloods is also changing.”

Dobby turned back to Harry and finished with, “Elves live longer than humans… Purebloods die off and with no family to serve, elves leave.”

“Where do the elves go,” asked Hermione suddenly, “When they their masters die… or they’re freed like you?”

Dobby just gave her a look, smiling and Hermione got the distinct feeling that was a question he was not going to answer.

“If the elves… are going somewhere else now,” questioned Hermione carefully again,

“Why are you here and not with them? I mean… in some ways… it seems like Harry is... has become your master.”

Dobby appeared to have finished his task and with click of his fingers. Harry’s shirt began to pull it-self together, buttoning as well. Dobby picked up the used damp clothes and put them in the bucket. He then picked up the jar, closed the lid and ran his finger along the wax, resealing it.

“Sirs is Dobby’s friend… first friend, “answered Dobby looking up at her, “And sirs need friends too… more than ever… so Dobby stay.”

Hermione smiled and prepared to get up but Dobby spoke again.

“But that not only reason,” spoke Dobby, his tone less happy even sadden a bit, “When Harry first meet Dobby… Dobby make Harry very angry… because Dobby kept his letters away… then Dobby get him in big trouble with train…Dobby even get Harry hurt.”

His ears drooped as far as they could as he looked to Hermione with his eyes as big as they could get.

“Dobby wanted to help… Dobby want keep the terrible thing away,” continued Dobby, “But Dobby fool… old master wasn’t after Harry at all… Dobby is one who put Harry in danger… Dobby caused him much trouble… not old master.”

Hermione wanted to say something encouraging but Dobby reached into a pocket and pulled a filthy black sock, thickly encrusted with slime and blood, even some mold. Regardless of how it look and maybe even smelled, Dobby held it like a precious gem.

“Dobby give Harry no reason to help him… Dobby only cause trouble,” continued the elf again, “But sirs tricked master into freeing Dobby… Harry freed Dobby even after everything bad Dobby do.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say, she knew there were details that Dobby was forgetting like the fact that he had warned Harry in the beginning of something terrible in the works but those facts didn’t seem to matter to him. Hermione thought the conversation would end but Dobby had one more statement.

Hermione surprised watched Dobby’s ears stand back up and oddly enough even curl in slightly. The elf’s eyes squinted in an angry stare aimed at no one and small smile faded to an elf version of a scowl. Dobby’s grip around the sock tightened so hard that dried bits of the encrusted filth broke off around his fingers in loud cracks.

“Dobby will stay with Harry,” spoke Dobby and for the first time Hermione had ever heard, spoke with tone strong in anger even slight a growl, “Dobby not strong like wizard… but Dobby know old master’s many secrets… many tricks… and Dobby will help Harry stop them.”

Hermione stared at Dobby surprised by the usually innocent nature suddenly becoming threatening but then Dobby’s ears straightened up again and his elf smile replaced the scowl. In all of that, all Hermione could do was just stare, even slightly frighten by the elf.

“Dobby must go,” perked up Dobby happily, his ears wiggling slightly and glancing towards the door, “Much to do.”

Dobby clicked his fingers again which caused Harry’s blankets slide over and tuck in around him. Hermione looked towards Harry’s sleeping face and thought how amazing it was that those like Dobby were drawn to Harry. Even her-self and Ron, Rela as well, it just seemed that Harry had something about him that drew people and creatures to him.

Dobby picked up his small bucket and began to walk towards the door. Hermione looked away from Harry back to the door as it was just about then that Hermione heard something else, something like a gentle scratching.

“Hello Cookanks,” greeted Dobby to the cat as it entered the room when Dobby opened the door.

At first, Hermione only saw the tip of his tail as Crookshanks entered the room and rounded the corner of Harry’s bed. When Crookshanks came around the bed, something dangled from its mouth and Hermione thought her cat had decided to show her another mouse it had caught, not a habit she fancied. However as the cat got closer, she noticed that whatever was being carried didn’t have a head or legs and what could have been a tail was a bit of string. In Crookshanks mouth was a package wrapped in parchment and tied by a piece of string. The same package that Hermione had wrapped Harry’s glasses in the prior evening.

Crookshanks trotted up to her and dropped the item into her lap then rubbed against her legs purring. Hermione picked up her cat and held him so she could look at him.

“You know… I’ve should have caught on to you sooner,” whispered Hermione to

Crookshanks, “You’re more than what you seem aren’t you?”

Crookshanks just purred letting his tail wag as Hermione held him in the air.

“You not animagus are you?” questioned Hermione, amused and blushed a bit as also asked, “Not some boy whose been watching me all this time?”

Crookshanks just tilted his head to one side and gave a quick meow while otherwise purring contently. Hermione sat Crookshanks down, who immediately hopped up onto Harry’s bed, stood there and watched her.

Hermione opened the package in her lap and retrieving Harry’s repaired glasses from within. Hermione stood up and bent over Harry, opening and slid his glasses over his face. Hermione fussed with the hair around his forehead but satisfied that the image that was Harry was further restored. All that remained was for him to awaken.

Before Hermione straightened up, she touched the tips of her fingers to her lips and then gently touched the tips of those same fingers to Harry’s lips as well.

“Happy Christmas Harry,” whispered Hermione into his ear, with that she move up over his head, paused and then kissed his forehead adding, “Please wake up before too long.”

Straightening up, Hermione adjusted her robe, walking quietly to the door and out, followed by Crookshanks. She walked down the stairs quietly, Crookshanks at her heels but rather than go back to bed, she suddenly felt thirsty and her lips had a sudden dry numbness. Most likely from the chill in the house as it had been drafty lately.

Down the rest of the stairs and into the living room towards the kitchen Hermione went again but with Crookshanks following. In the kitchen, Hermione filled a kettle with water and placed it on the stove. With a touch of her wand and a moment later, the kettle began to steam. She reached into a cupboard and found her-self a mug. Filling it with hot water from the kettle, Hermione moved to the counter and nicked a couple of tea leaves from a jar. Crookshanks meowed to her and Hermione turned to see him sitting on the table.

“You know mum doesn’t want you doing that,” remarked Hermione amused as Crookshanks simply lay down as if in defiance, “I’ll bet Mrs. Weasley isn’t keen on the idea either.”

Lying there, Crookshanks just meowed to her again and Hermione just shook her head. Turning and fetching a small bowl from a cupboard behind her, moved to the refrigerator and poured some milk into it. Turing back and placing it on the floor, Crookshanks leapt from the table hurried to the milk, lapping it hungrily. Picking up the tea and picking out the leaves, Hermione moved to the sink to look out the window again.

Sipping at it, Hermione had some trouble drinking it as her lips had yet to retain full feeling and the hot liquid burned at the tip of her tongue. Blowing and carefully sipping, Hermione let her mind wonder about what had made the branches move outside when she had first gotten back to the burrow.

It had been big enough to cause a vibration for her to feel and loud enough breathing to be heard from its distance. The branches that swayed were high, more than her reach, so it had to be tall in standing. Whatever it was it had come with Fawkes and the phoenix was okay with its presence. There was also what Daken had said, which was that it had been okay with her, which meant it must know her. When Ginny and her-self had gone to the shed, she hadn’t notice any presence of whatever the creature was.

There was a clattering and Hermione looked down to see Crookshanks licking his jaws over an empty dish. She set her mug down on the table and knelt down. Taking a hold of the dish, Hermione looked at Crookshanks.

“How did you get here?” questioned Hermione, “I didn’t bring you with me.”

Crookshanks suddenly took off behind her and the legs of the table and chairs, Hermione saw a pair of feet step slowly into the kitchen. Either they had woken up like her or all the noise she made had stirred them and she readied an explanation. She rose up from the floor and looked over the table.

“I’m sorry if I woke you but.”

That was as she could say.

Hermione let go of the dish and didn’t hear ii crash back to the floor.

There at the doorway, stood someone, slightly wobbling, with pinkish pale skin. Their black hair was messy, as it always had been since she first saw it nearly five years ago. This person looked back at her with half opened eyes through a pair of glasses.

There stood Harry Potter.

Hermione didn’t know what to say or do, she didn’t even think, only reacted. Her mind never focused on the distance or the space that was traveled, only that at one moment she was looking at him and the next she had this boy in her arms.

Next Chapter:

Man or Monster Part 3