Author note: I would like to thank my co-writer Perivayne and my betareader Renata. As you see, this is a much longer chapter. I can't remember that I ever posted such a long chapter in any of my stories. I know it's been a long time since I updated, but you know why it takes so long. But I hope this long chapter will do it. Of course I thank you for this many reviews.
Chapter 5 -Promises Made
Ron was seething with rage as he stormed across to Hermione's bed. The last time Harry had seen him this angry had been in fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament. The angry redheaded wizard looked back and forth between his friends as he tried to calm himself enough to speak.
"What's the matter?" Harry asked his best friend, with some trepidation. Hermione's expression indicated some concern, but she remained silent for the moment.
"You won't believe what my dad just told me!" Ron gulped a quick breath before continuing. "My parents," he spat, "feel that just because I came with you instead of doing what my mum wanted, that it shows how they can't trust me to have a proper sense of maturity to make my own decisions! They just can't expect for me to stay behind when Hermione is here in this place. I've got the same right as you to see her."
Harry tried to interject, but Ron's sense of umbrage would not be denied. "Just because it might be dangerous to come see her? What about how dangerous it was for Hermione in her own home? I'll tell you what, I'll be happier when we're back at Hogwarts."
Harry sighed under his breath, not at all surprised at the Weasley's protective attitude after his talk with Dumbledore. As he looked over to Hermione, he found she had turned away from them. Ron didn't know the whole story, and Harry felt the promise he had given Dumbledore bite his conscience.
"It's because of the Department of Mysteries, isn't it?" His own voice sounded suddenly foreign to Harry, frigid and hollow. My fault, it's my fault Ron's parents are on about this…
"Yeah, after the brain attack scars healed, they started acting as if I'm still a child. Mum kept on about how I could have died, that it was just luck that Ginny and I were alive."
"Your Mum is right. It is too dangerous. You shouldn't be here, either of you," Hermione said suddenly, turning to stare at both boys as they gaped in astonishment.
"Come on, Hermione. This is St. Mungo's! It's one of the safest places in London, and besides, we've only been here for maybe thirty minutes, tops. A dozen Aurors are walking the floors. We're safe here, you know!" Ron went round to the other side of the bed and sat down near her feet.
Impatiently, she discounted that statement. "Even if there were a million Aurors, we still aren't completely safe. Anywhere. Remember the stories of what it was like when Voldemort rose to power the first time? I read The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and I tell you that you aren't safe. Only if you're under Dumbledore's direct protection, and then only maybe." She turned back to Harry sharply. Harry wasn't sure exactly what Hermione wanted him to do or say, but her eyes showed both temper and pleading at the same time.
To Harry's amazement, Ron had not gotten angry at Hermione's snappish remark, only flinching once at the mention of Voldemort's name. Actually, he was smiling rather brightly. "Well, we're in luck then, aren't we?" Ron asked. "We are under the protection of Dumbledore."
"Are we really?" Hermione replied to him softly, with a stiff expression, before Harry could speak.
The doubt and poorly hidden fear in her voice scored Harry's heart. He didn't like where this discussion was going, not at all. "You know, I didn't want to upset you with arguing, Hermione," he said. "Especially not about Voldemort." He shot Ron an icy glare, and his tall friend looked a bit shamefaced.
"How are you, Hermione? Really?" Harry continued. At first, Hermione seemed to ignore this question in favour of her trademark death glaring at Ron who looked away from her after a few moments. Harry touched her shoulder to regain her attention.
"I'm fine. In two days, I should be able to leave St. Mungo's, the Healers said." Her voice was more normal now, and Ron returned his gaze to his bushy haired friend as she continued. "Then, I can at least get my homework done for…."
"You're joking, right? It's still summer holiday, Hermione! And with everything that's happening, how can you think about homework at a time like this?" Ron shook his head disgustedly at this, completely missing the desperate look she shot at Harry.
It was in her eyes. She knew.
The whole time she was answering Ron's dumbstruck query about her schoolwork, Hermione held Harry's eyes. How did she know that Ron didn't know everything about the attack on the Grangers? He wondered. This made Harry feel even guiltier about Ron's forced ignorance of the situation.
The whole situation was becoming surreal. Now, Harry was increasingly forced to deal with his own situation alone. Ron couldn't be told, Hermione was in deadly peril and Sirius had died in the Ministry of Magic trying to save him. One by one, all the people Harry had learned to depend on were being taken from him.
It struck Harry suddenly that he could no longer depend on his friends for advice as he had always done. They were all diverging from the single path that had seemed to be their destiny since they started at Hogwarts. How could Ron and Hermione be expected to help him with the Prophecy, Voldemort and all the rest that came with being Harry Potter?
It seemed that the only source that remained to him was Dumbledore, but Harry felt he wouldn't get the answers he wanted from the elderly Headmaster. Was there a solution to this lack of support? If Hermione wasn't healthy, and Ron didn't even fully know what was going on around him, who else could Harry trust? Unable to think clearly about this epiphany at the moment, Harry sighed deeply and looked around the ward to distract himself.
The room wasn't really bright or colourful, despite the magical windows reflecting the London skyline. Now that Harry was noticing, there weren't any portraits on the walls either. The heavy wood panelling seemed dingy with dust and dirt, though the beds and furniture were spotless.
"There isn't too much cheerful in here, I'm afraid." Hermione had observed his attention to the room details. "This floor was only just reopened after…after the attack…" Hermione's voice trailed off at the end but after a brief pause finished with slight hint of amusement. "But at least the beds are clean."
"Isn't it boring here with nothing to do?" Ron's face reflected curiosity, while Harry rolled his eyes heavenward at his friend's somewhat dense question. Hermione smirked at Harry's reaction, and then answered.
"It's not as if I could do much, anyway. I only managed to walk around the floor twice, since I'm still easily exhausted. They aren't holding me here for another two days just for fun, you know." Slowly, she laid her head back on her pillow and closed her eyes. It seemed as if their visit had cost her more energy than either boy had noticed.
A sharp rap on the door broke the silence that had fallen in the room. Remus Lupin opened the door and gazed at the trio of teens.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your visit, boys, but you need to say good-bye for now," Lupin told them as he entered the room and went to Harry's side. "The Portkey will be active in less than five minutes." Ron looked a bit rebellious, but under Lupin's intense gaze, he swallowed back his disgruntlement and rose to join the former DADA professor and Harry.
"Professor -- " Hermione started, but Lupin stopped her gently.
"I'm no longer your Professor, Hermione. Please call me Remus."
"It's so good to see you." Hermione's face brightened with a small smile; Lupin smiled back.
Harry started to say his farewell, "I'll -- We'll see you real soon again, Her--"
The ward door slammed open against the wall with a harsh sound, causing everyone to turn and look at the dishevelled Tonks standing in the doorway, panting. An electric sense of danger swept through Harry, though he didn't feel any twinges from his scar.
"Remus, we need your assistance. Now!"
Remus' face was tense as he strode over to Tonks, who began speaking in a low voice that didn't quite carry over to Harry and the others. With questioning expressions, both Ron and Hermione looked to Harry. But he could only shrug his shoulders. Just as Harry looked back to the pair in the doorway, he caught a glimpse of Mad-Eye moving forcefully down the hallway. The older Auror's face betrayed no recognisable emotion, but Harry still sensed a difference. This wasn't right; something was happening. Something that was not good.
"What's going on?" Ron demanded as Remus turned back to them.
"Not now," said Remus. "I'll explain it later. First, you need to go back to Headquarters, all three of you. In two minutes, the Portkey becomes active again. I'll send you three along to the Place. Do try to stay out of trouble, would you? We'll meet you back there and then I'll tell you what's going on." With this he handed Harry a copy of "Quidditch Through The Ages" and hurried from the room before anyone could say another word.
Alone in the room, Harry looked over to Ron, who just nodded sharply. Harry handed the book to Hermione, who stuttered, "What are y-you two d-doing…" Both boys ran to the ward door and carefully looked around the corner in the direction they had seen the adults going. The distant sounds of spells and screams issued from beyond their line of sight. Somewhere, a rather large fight was ensuing.
"Blimey! What's happening, do you think, Harry?"
Harry shook his head and muttered, "Dunno. Maybe we should go see?"
As the two boys glanced at each other and made the decision, a pair of small hands pulled them back. Hermione held the book under her arm as she pulled the two boys back into the ward. She was visibly shaking from the effort, and Harry, concerned, reached his arm around her shoulders to support her.
"I can't believe the two of you would be so stupid as…" Her diatribe was broken by a sudden spate of coughing. Across the hall, another ward door slammed open, revealing two unknown Aurors, who pelted out and down the hallway towards the ruckus. Harry could see several Healers in small groups surrounding what appeared to be three patients. Two patients were the Grangers, pale faced and unconscious, but the third was Kingsley Shacklebolt.
Suddenly, the groups began to disappear as Portkeys were activated. Hermione stifled a sob when her parents disappeared. The best plan to the teens now seemed to be to leave as soon as possible.
"Are you ready?" Harry asked his friends, his voice shaky from what he'd just seen. He took the Portkey from Hermione. Ron just nodded, but Hermione remained motionless for a moment before she shook her head.
"What? What are you saying, Hermione?" questioned Ron.
"I - I can't. You have to go without me," she said in a quivering sort of voice. She straightened up abruptly, turned, and made as if to throw off Harry's assistance to go to her bed.
It looked like she was forcing herself to stay due to her weakness, but Harry was determined to not leave one of his best friends behind, no matter her reasoning. "You'll go with us," he said. He put a hand on her shoulder and prevented her return to the bed.
"You don't understand, I can't leave," Hermione said desperately, trying to stop him from placing her right hand firmly on the book Portkey. She fought to free her hand, but Harry was implacable. "Please, let me go. Please, Harry! You don't understand, just leave me here, please!" she begged, with unshed tears in her eyes.
"Now, Ron." said Harry, as Hermione still struggled against his grip. Without a word, Ron touched the Portkey as well. Harry felt the familiar jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet left the ground and the Portkey pulled him onwards in a howl of wind and swirling colour, Hermione and Ron at his side.
Harry felt his feet slam into the ground and fought to keep his balance, but Hermione's additional weight made that impossible. He fell backwards onto the floor, and because of his strong grasp, Hermione landed atop him on the floor as well. Ron kept his feet, but only by grabbing onto one of the curtains over Mrs Black's portrait.
The noisy arrival of the trio into the front entry of Number 12 Grimmauld Place became worse as the caterwauling of Mrs Black filled the room.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked Hermione, as she slowly regained her breath. He slid out from underneath his friend and carefully lifted her to her feet. Hermione tottered for a moment, but then managed to stand unassisted. Only after a few moments did Harry realise that he still had her hand in his.
He let go of her hand reluctantly when he saw her murderous glare. Never before he had seen her look at him like that. A cold shiver raced down Harry's spine at her response to his high-handed behaviour.
"Where have you been, Ronald Weasley?" A horrified look passed over Ron's face. He turned to his mother, who stood in the door to the kitchen, hands on her hips and a glint in her eyes that spelled trouble for her progeny. Ron was spared the oncoming storm of remonstrance from his mother only because she spotted Hermione standing in her nightdress just behind her son.
"Oh my dear, what are you doing here? I didn't expect you for another few days. Let's just get you settled upstairs, shall we?" Mrs Weasley bustled like a mother hen with an injured chick. She hurried over to Hermione and began to assist her to the stairs. The screaming Mrs. Black stopped in her diatribe long enough to pull in a gasping breath and Harry swiftly shut the curtains. Her voice died away quickly to a filthy mutter and then blessed silence.
"Professor Lupin - eh, I mean, Remus said that all three of us needed to get here. I believe St Mungo's wasn't safe anymore. We didn't see --" As Harry described what had happened at the hospital in a low voice to Mrs. Weasley, he realized finally why Hermione hadn't wanted to leave, what the terror in her eyes really meant. Suddenly painfully aware of what he had just done to his friend, Harry stopped short.
"Come, Hermione. You need to rest, dear," Mrs. Weasley said sympathetically after Harry's story finished. Hermione did not speak a word, but Harry could see in her face the exhaustion and pure frustrated rage that simmered below her quiet facade.
Harry couldn't meet her gaze. He turned instead to hear Ron's relieved sigh at his apparent reprieve from his mother's wrath. It seemed that Ron would escape his mother's ire without a lecture.
"And Ron, we WILL have a little chat later when your father gets back, young man!" With that, Mrs Weasley and Hermione made their way upstairs.
Ron cringed and shut his eyes tightly. "This doesn't look good, Harry. She's going to kill me."
Harry forced an "hmm" of agreement, his thoughts dwelling on the terrible trespass he had just committed against Hermione. Ron continued stating his case, but Harry heard none of it and only responded when Ron stopped his rant, waiting for a response from his black haired friend.
"Come on, Ron, you know you did disobey her willfully. You said yourself you're almost an adult. So, take responsibility for your actions and accept the punishment."
"You have no idea what she's able to come up with in regards to punishment, mate. She can surpass Snape sometimes in inflicted misery," Ron whispered, glancing upward anxiously as if Mrs Weasley might overhear him.
Hermione's parents were somewhere out there and probably in danger if the actions of the Healers indicated anything. Harry's stomach somersaulted at this thought, especially now that he realised that this curse - whatever it was -- was the reason she had wanted to stay where she had felt safe. Lord, what if something happened to the Grangers?
Harry's mouth went dry at the realisation that he had no idea how he could act around Hermione in such a case. Ron was still chuntering on about his mum as Harry closed his eyes. This little voice in his head, which had bothered him through the last two weeks, had returned. This part of his psyche that kept saying "What if?" was getting louder. All this evil was because of him and only him, Harry thought with despair.
"Well, she was quiet." Ron's voice penetrated his circling thoughts and stilled them with that statement.
"What?" Harry asked absently. Ron motioned for Harry to follow him down the entrance hall away from the stairs as he continued, "Hermione was too quiet. She isn't normally like that. I mean usually she can't stop speaking to save her life and granted she's in hospital, but that quiet? I tell you there is something else going on with her. They must know what's wrong with her." Harry started at Ron's uncannily accurate comment, but since his friend was still gazing up at the stairs, he did not see Harry's reaction.
"It has something to do with You-Know-Who and they all think we're too young to understand…." Suddenly, Ron noticed Harry's stony expression. "I - I'm sorry, what did I say wrong?"
Harry spat out, "She has every right to be quiet after all she's been through in the last few days, Ron! It's not just about you, you know, prat! I don't know what's going on, but we're going to have to look out for each other and our friends this year. Now that Voldemort's shown us that he can hurt us, Hermione is right. No place is safe anymore, not even Hogwarts." Harry's own words made him cold. Ron stood dumbfounded at his friend's sharp words.
At that moment, several loud cracks were heard and five wizards were standing in the entrance hall with Harry and Ron.
Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, Mr. Weasley, Lupin and Bill glanced about anxiously for a moment before they spotted the boys, then relaxed. On Lupin's right cheek a bruise was purpling up nicely, and the others all had signs of recent combat in their torn clothing and mussed appearances.
Ron's reprieve from parental disapproval came to an abrupt end, for at that moment, Mrs Weasley came downstairs. After a cursory check of her husband and eldest son, she spoke firmly. "Ron, follow me to the kitchen. I need to talk to you. Arthur, please, I need you, too."
"Wish me luck," Ron said to Harry, who did as he requested. Ron's face was glum as he followed his father into the kitchen.
As soon as Harry was sure Ron was out of earshot, he questioned Lupin. "What happened?"
For a second Lupin's eyes were amused at Harry's caution, then he answered. "Death Eaters attacked St Mungo's, and a few Dementors, too. They got to fifth floor, but they were outnumbered and forced to retreat. We believe the attack was a warning to the Wizarding World. Everybody old enough to remember the first Rise knows what's coming next." Remus pulled Harry toward the front parlour as the other wizards headed off to rooms on the upper floors.
"Voldemort's warning is as much to the people who supported him as to those who opposed him. It's just a matter of time until his people start to practice the Dark Arts openly again." Harry felt a sickening sense of horror at the thought, but he didn't interrupt Lupin.
"Only one thing can be counted on from now on. Either you are for Voldemort or against him. Neutrality will not preserve anyone, and running away from the fight will only delay the inevitable. If he wins, Harry, life in the Wizarding World becomes a living hell. No Muggleborn will be safe anymore. Harry, dark times -- really dark times -- are at our doorstep." Lupin stopped, though Harry could see he wanted to say more.
"Tell him all of it." Moody's gruff voice pulled Harry's attention away from Lupin. "About the last time Voldemort held the Wizarding World hostage. About life under Voldemort's last reign of terror. So dark a time that you didn't, couldn't, trust anyone anymore. Not your family, not your friends, because they might betray you."
"Are they all right? The Grangers?" Harry asked. Mad-Eye was looking at him with his normal eye while the magical eye spun around in its socket.
"They are in the same state as before. You can tell her that, Potter. There's been no change," he growled. On his scary-looking face a smile appeared, looking rather out-of-place there. Harry could feel both Moody and Lupin watching as he quickly climbed up the stairs to tell Hermione.
Each stair made a creaking sound as Harry stepped. This dark house was still like it had been just a year before, full of shadows. It was as if no time had passed since Harry had been here in the winter, but he knew his old life was gone. Forever. In its place was this twinned dark existence; full of nightmares and dread. Indeed, Dumbledore had been right in his statement to Voldemort in the Ministry that night in June.
There were things that were more terrible than death itself.
Slowly, he went along the shadowy dark hallway to the room that had been Ginny and Hermione's last year. It was so quiet now that he could believe himself to be completely alone in the house.
More quickly than he liked, Harry was standing in front of her door and about to enter. He gathered up his Gryffindor courage and then soundlessly, Harry opened the door and peered through the gloom. He'd thought the corridor had been dark, but this simple room was darker than he could have imagined. Harry hadn't been in the room before, but could just make out the shadows of two beds and a desk and chair near the window where the dark, heavy curtains had been drawn.
The only light streamed through a gap in the curtains and fell across the desk and floor. A single figure was silhouetted in the chair. As he crept inside and shut the door, Harry heard a cat begin to purr loudly.
He barely breathed, so tense was the mood. The figure turned its head toward him, and Harry knew it was Hermione.
"I'm sorry, Hermione." he whispered, remorse and anguish in his voice.
"That's the second time today, Harry, you've told me that. I would have done the same thing, you know, if I had been in your place." She answered in a firm tone, motionless except for her repetitive stroking of Crookshanks, who lay curled up in her lap.
As Harry approached Hermione, he saw a faint glimmer of golden lines upon her face; silent tear tracks were gilded by the weak sunlight. He saw Crookshanks' eyes reflect a ray of light before they closed and the purring intensified. He settled on the floor at her feet and gazed up at his friend, completely at a loss about how to help her and make things right between them.
"Your parents are safe. Nothing happened to them during the attack," he said softly.
"My parents have always supported me, you know, though they knew I didn't tell them everything that was happening. Everything I am, I am because of them, because of their love for me. I should have been able to protect them, but I failed. It was my --"
Harry reached up and took her hand. It was cold to the touch. He held it between both of his to warm it as he chided her gently, "Don't do this to yourself. You did all that you could, Hermione. Not one of us could have done better, none of us. You are the smartest witch in our year, Hermione, and you will become a powerful witch when you're grown. We will find a way to help your parents, I promise. Voldemort will pay for what he's done."
After a moment, her hand left his and rested against his forehead. Nonplussed, Harry stammered, "Wha-- what are you doing?"
"Checking for a fever," she said cheekily. "Nope, no fever. Who are you and where'd you get the Polyjuice potion, sir? You can't be the real Harry Potter. No way he'd ever be thiswise." She chuckled at Harry's disgruntled attempt to swipe her hand away. Her hand stroked through his fringe and traced his scar lightly.
"Do you really think we can help my parents? I wish I could have done more, changed what happened … what did I do wrong?" she whispered as she looked down at Harry.
"You taught me in 3rd year that you can't change what lies in the past, that you shouldn't even try to change the past because it would be wrong. What happened happened, but if you keep worrying about what you could have done, then you risk missing your chance to affect the future." Harry lowered his eyes as he struggled with his own doubts, mocking him for his past failures.
"We have to live in the now and work on making the present right, rather than dwelling on the wrong in the past." He took her hand as he finished and held it tightly, willing his strength into her.
She nodded once as he finished, and a comfortable silence fell between them. Harry jumped when Crookshanks' paw shot out and tried to catch his hand. He gave in to the cat's importuning and reached over to stroke and scratch the feline's head. The cat's rumbling purr indicated he was in heaven over the attention. The purring began to relax both teens, making them loathe to break the mood with talking.
Hermione finally stopped her petting as she stared down into Harry's eyes. Concerned, he asked her what was wrong.
"Would you do me a favour?" He was surprised at her quiet request but nodded in acquiescence.
She took a deep breath as if what she wanted was such an important thing that she feared he wouldn't grant her request and needed to steel her courage to ask. She took his hand away from its stroking of Crookshanks' ears and held it between both of hers.
"Promise me …" Her voice broke slightly, then she hurried on, "Promise me that you won't leave me. No matter what happens, no matter how hopeless the outcome seems, promise me you won't give up. That you will fight to stay with me."
Harry was taken aback by her desperate plea. He had expected anything but this. He paused a moment, wondering if it was fair to give her an oath it was very probable he would not be able to achieve. The prophecy didn't offer too much hope for his continued survival, but he couldn't deny the need in her eyes.
"I promise. I won't leave you, Hermione." At least not willingly, he silently added in afterthought. Despite his misgivings about his ability to deliver on his oath, the smile on her face - the first real smile he'd seen on her face since last term -- more than outweighed his doubts.
He grinned back and then suggested she should probably be in bed. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at his mother-hen suggestion, but still got up and carried Crookshanks to the bed. He helped her into it and tucked her in.
"I'll be just downstairs. If you need something, just send this large lump of fur to come get me, ok?" Harry smirked at Crookshanks' narrowed eyes, but Hermione's small giggle was reward enough.
As he left the room, Harry left the door cracked open enough for the cat to pass through easily and headed downstairs. The quiet of the house wasn't broken until Harry reached the kitchen door. The muted sound of Mrs Weasley in full spate caused Harry to reconsider filling his empty stomach in favour of living to see his sixteenth birthday.
He spun around to head back upstairs before jumping back with a yell. Albus Dumbledore was standing just behind him, his blue eyes twinkling at Harry's start.
"My apologies, Harry. But I'm not enthusiastic about attracting Molly's attention at the moment. We need to talk." Harry glanced over his shoulder, relieved to see that his yell had not attracted Mrs Weasley's attention, and then he followed the Headmaster into the front parlour.