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Chapters 6 - 8
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Chapter 6
"The Pain of the Past"
##Hermione##
Hermione sat on the couch, sunk about as far back into it as possible.
Tears ran down her face, as she sat there resting her miserable head on the armrest.
Other than the obvious signs of disquietude, she remained blank and closed from all outside phenomena. All but Elianne.
She didn't move when Elianne entered the room, her eyes flicked up for a moment, that was all.
Elianne silently walked up and sat down next to her. Rubbed her shoulder,
"What's wrong?"
Finally Hermione proceeded to sit up properly
"I found this"
Elianne shrieked with delight at the piece of jewellery hanging from her hand.
"It's wonderful. Were did you find it? Who's is it? Do you think …."
She trailed off at the look on her aunt's face
"You father gave it to me. In our fifth year."
"Well, its lovely. He had good taste."
Hermione carried on, her voice just as irresolute as it had been originally
"…But I lost it sixth year"
///////Hermione's Flashback////Hogwarts, Early October - Year 6
She strolled across the field from the exit she'd left, met by the chilling air. It must have been near zero, in the practically winter weather. It was dark and she was only wearing her normal school robes. The wind cut into her, whirling her hair round her head, sweeping harshly over her features.
*How could he have done that to her? It was the most humiliating experience of her life*
He'd probably have followed her. She could picture it in her mind. Any minute now he'd run out rushing after her. Begging for quick forgiveness. As if it barely mattered and could be forgotten in a single second.
*Anyone else but him wouldn't have known. He should have*
She'd thought he knew her well, and her as well for him.
*Must have been mistaken. If he'd known me even half as well as I'd thought then he'd have understood that Beavers Buns were the worst idea for a practical joke on me. It just rubbed in the old girl she used to be, with buckteeth and bushy hair*
But that's not the only reason you're so angry, a little second voice in her head reminded her.
Nevermind. She was too angry now. Was too risky to have a confrontation about it, she'd end up hexing him and getting into trouble.
At least Fred and George would know that their new trick worked. No doubt Colin had taken a picture of her a.k.a beaver girl.
Turning round she sees him coming towards her. Still quite far away.
And she STILL did not want to talk to him. She almost hated him right now.
It would be too hard to stay, so she attempts to hide behind the rocks near the lake.
He's a long enough distance not to have seen her yet, being rather short sighted.
Even with the time on her side, she hurries to the lakeside hoping she'll be fast enough to find a suitable place to crouch down in without being seen.
Too late
"Hermione, it that you?"
*Drat. What's the chance he might miss me? Not great but its there. *
Rushing along the pebbles near the shore, she curses at stumbling.
*If only I had trainers instead of boring, uncomfortable school shoes. *
And it turned out that she'd wished for what would've been better.
There was a deafening splash as she slipped over, dropping into the icy water with all her weight behind her.
She hit it before she'd barely had the realization she had lost her footing.
The freezing lake had woken her up from the fury she'd felt. Instead she was annoyed, annoyed beyond words.
He humiliated her
He caused her to be here, in the middle of the lake almost on the coldest night of the year so far, sopping wet, no longer enraged.
This was different. All her petty irritations drawn together. Everything he'd ever done that she'd hated was filling her mind. As the blood that filled her veins, the pressure rising.
"You're lucky you didn't hit your head"
He approached her, holding out a hand to help her up.
Which to her surprise she took anyway. Glaring at him at the while. Eyes like needles, piercing his friendly exterior.
"No thanks to you"
He grinned sheepishly and stared down at the ground.
"I know you're angry but…"
She cut in the sentence sharply, "I don't want to speak to you"
"I'm sorry, Hermione, it was…" he started his excuse, sounding like he was sincere.
"Where is it?" she scrambled at the surface of her robes.
"What?"
Grabbing at the fabric in hope of her hand fastening around that object.
"My necklace."
"What about it?"
" It's gone. I had it on… before…...I fell in to the lake." Her face dropped, disappointed.
All he said was "Oh"
Then she thought about it. Once again. Who's fault was it.
*Great job Harry*
"I'm sure it's here somewhere. You didn't fall in at a very deep section, it shouldn't be difficult to find. In theory at least." She saw his eyes scouring the water as if he was hunting for the golden snitch.
He might find it.
But he was the one who was really responsible for its loss, he ought to find it anyway.
She made a choice.
She didn't care if he was sincere. Nothing could quell her thirst for the blunt admittance of the truth.
He started to talk once more whilst looking over the lake
"You know, like I was saying, I'm sorry about earlier, it…" but he didn't get a chance to say anything further than before.
"No Harry. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything from you. I don't want to speak a word to you. I'm leaving and you WON'T follow me."
With that she stormed off.
*Who cared about the necklace? If he did he'd look for it. She wasn't going to, even though it wasn't like she could get any wetter than she was. *
She walked back to the school as fast as her legs could carry her. Just wanting to be rid of his presence. In a hurry to get away before she turned back and went to have a proper go at him.
She didn't want that. She could be brutally harsh when she was mad and she really didn't have the time to patch things up if she said something she might regret.
*Can't help but think that feelings get in the way. If I had none then I wouldn't have got angry in the first place and then I wouldn't risk telling him everything, about everything he does wrong, everything I hate about him. Everything*
What was everything though? She wasn't sure.
##Harry (in the past)##
He stood watching her walk away from him. As she'd asked he hadn't followed her.
He'd been stupid. Twice. That prank had been a bad mistake from the moment Ron had suggested it. And going after a mad Hermione was even worse. What had he been thinking?
The one thing though through that entire encounter was that she was a little off.
Hiding something from him. Keeping herself boxed in.
Probably preventing herself from wanting to hex him back to the Stone Age.
With that there was a kind of pressure that she seemed under.
She was angry. But it didn't blow up, it didn't all spill out. She bottled it up.
Was she meant to? Girls were meant to be more in touch with their emotions. And even Hermione wasn't that far removed from your average girl.
What would have happened if she'd stayed, gotten mad. What would she have said to him? Well, it was a mystery now. He'd never know. She'd never tell.
/////end flashback////
"How do you know it's the same one? Couldn't there be other's like it?"
Elianne's question broke her from her thoughts.
"It's from him alright. It has an engraving on the back. No one else would know what it said. Just Harry and me."
She handed the necklace over to Elianne, who held it preciously, turning over the emerald tear to reveal writing on the back
To 'Mione
-To take all your pain away &
make you happy always-
Love Harry
It was neatly written, very small because of the size of the pendant, either charmed or hand written.
"What does it mean?"
"What do you mean?" she countered
"Well, it's the necklace Harry gave you. Which you lost. And obviously never found. It can't be a fake or a copy because it has the engraving. Only you and Harry knew about that. Even if someone had found it, say a Hogwarts student, what would the chance be that they'd know who you were. I'm just pointing out there must be something to it."
She finished her little dialogue and took a deep breath from the lack of air.
Hermione looked pointedly perplexed, fiddling with the chain of the necklace, seemingly wondering about it.
"I don't know. Whatever it is. I don't know"
After that there was only the slinking sound of the repetitive tinkling of the chain, moving from one hand to the other, with no thought about it. Whatsoever.
~
Chapter 7
"Wishing To…"
##Elianne##
One more inch.
An inch, just an inch.
Only an inch to go.
She strained the muscles in her arm trying to reach for the branch.
Desperate to get even a slight grasp of it, so that she could pull the whole thing down and pick those perfectly round, big bulbous berries that hung from it.
Her body gave in and she was forced to slump back down on the grass.
Only allowed to look at them hopeful that she'd get them next time.
Ever since I'd started reading most potente potions I'd come across may normal plants that had very useful witchly applications.
Like the elderberry for example. I'd found out it was used in a low-level magic resistance potion, and was hopeful of making some. I knew I wasn't allowed to test it against magic even if I was able to do so, but then again I also knew Hermione had graduated meaning she could.
Mind you, it wasn't the only thing in our little English cottage garden that I could've had some fun with.
We had hazel too, but I wasn't much into divining. Rather unlikely we'd have some treasure buried around here.
Nightshade too hung around the garden, not any use unless I for some reason wanted to feebly attempt making veritasium, the truth potion.
My only other real choice was the snapdragon charm. Supposed to promote graciousness and fascinating in whoever wore it.
She thought idly about which one to use; if I got it right the charm might be useful for the first day at school. Would make it an interesting day at the very least.
From the garden she heard the knocking of the side door. Both her and Hermione went to answer it. The difference being that Elianne rushed towards it getting there first, was greet by her aunt Ginny.
After the brief surprised and kafuffle of her sudden visit, they had retired back to the kitchen for tea and a conversation. The main topic was what had kept her away for so long. And Hermione was tackling it with about as must tact as she could manage.
"It's not that it's not nice to see but why now? It's been years. We've only ever had the occasional owl from you"
Elianne looked up. *Good question*
She studied the face of her aunt. She had longer redder hair than it had seemed to before, but then before was quite a while for her now.
*Why hasn't she seen me since I was eight? and she hasn't been in a hurry to. So why now*
Ginny pursed her hands in her lap, avoiding their suspecting eyes.
Meekly she returned back to the conversation, swallowing a nervous cough, ready to speak finally.
"I'd heard you'd got news on Harry."
##Hermione##
Hermione sneaked a look over at Elianne, who was innocently inspecting the kitchen wall.
"Yes. It's possible. However I'm not sure yet. It isn't. …clear."
"That's strange because Ron told me he'd received an owl from Sirius. He said it was in code or something, he couldn't make head nor tails of it."
"Code?" Hermione's brow furrowed, mind ticked over the possibilities.
"He should try to find out if it needs a password. If it's from Sirius then he must have intended for Ron to know whatever the word is already. Guesswork might be all that's required."
Ginny smiled weakly.
"I'll try to tell him that. Though he mightn't want to, he's been avoiding reality for years. If he thinks it's about Harry, he won't do anything. I'm sure."
Hermione scowled at the thought of Ron and his cowardice. He stayed away in Romania with his dragons. Away from the world in any form. Like dragons were all he could cope with. Was pathetic. She could sympathise, he missed his best friend, she knew he did. But his approach solved nothing. It wasted what he had, what Harry wanted everyone to enjoy. Life, free and good. Maybe the problem was that Ron didn't think it was good anymore.
"That's your brothers choice Ginny. I'm sorry if his mistakes fall on you. Perhaps he'd give you the letter. And you could try to break the code."
Her composition changed so much at Hermione's suggestion. Her eyes distantly happy, a small smile in them.
"Yes. And would you help me? I know I'm less likely to get it. Ron wouldn't help me of course and you're so clever just like you've always been."
"Perhaps. It depends. I have work and other duties. Elianne's going to Hogwarts in a week or two. But it doesn't matter anyway, not now, not until you speak to Ron."
##Elianne##
Elianne watched her aunts from the window. They stood in the drive chatting as they prepared to say goodbye.
The subject of her father hadn't lasted too long; they'd soon gotten off it and had caught up on each other's recent events.
However I was more interested in that too less covered idea. That my father was alive.
No one knew. Some wanted to, some didn't.
There was Ginny, so eager. And her brother Ron, not wanting to know for the pain that could be.
So that was why my aunt had visited us. Not so much out of caring as of curiosity.
The more interesting thing was the way Hermione had avoided agreeing to help with the password. Didn't she want to know?
I'd have thought in the past that she'd be the first, the most willing to find out the truth of the matter.
Was she succumbing to that suggestion that my godfather believed life had given him. Not to seek anything more. Not to care anymore. Incase it got worse.
I really didn't want to entertain these kinds of thoughts. They depressed me. I wanted to know. Even if she didn't, I did.
He was MY father. It had become almost a right that I know him if he was alive.
If he was alive, I would not be denied that possibility.
And I wanted him to be alive.
There were no words for the pain of the thought that he wasn't, that the past 11 years had been true. That they would also be the future.
I did the only thing that made me feel better. I sat underneath the beech tree that stood at the bottom of the garden. I sat and closed my eyes and prayed that he was still.
I prayed for myself and for Hermione; for Ron; for my father's friends; for every person who held my father in their heart. He wasn't just my father, he was that courage and bravery. He was their hope.
Mine too.
I prayed that my wish would have the strength of all those who had his hope. With every bit of it adding up to something that could not be refused.
~
Chapter 8
"A Walk Inside the Mind"
##Hermione##
Ginny had finally departed. They must have been talking for hours; it seemed strangely Ginny was keen to chat.
She'd heard all about all the new books Ginny had read in her job at a publishers, who's children where going to Hogwarts this year, how the joke shop was doing, even a few occasional things about Ron's research and Molly's attempts to get Percy and Penelope to marry.
They'd never been that close since the war. Memories hurt everyone. *Not just me* she reminded herself.
Elianne was outside under the beech tree staring into space. Hermione had no idea what she was doing but she felt it best to leave Elianne to herself.
She'd been more solitary recently.
It wasn't good to disturb her.
Hermione made her way instead to her bedroom.
She meant only to rest for a few minutes.
She'd need to call in Elianne eventually. Couldn't have her up all night when school wasn't that far in the future.
But it had been an exhausting day and something else pulled her into sleep despite her own will to stay awake
--------
And in the dreams
They see
What was
And what must be
The lights that guide
In every branch
To every way
Whose is which
What is the way
The day escapes
The tenuous sight
From the hold of those
Who'd seek theirs
But fate can always change
-------
+++++
Her eyes felt heavy.
All around her was blurred.
She spotted a light. Moving away.
It was above the ground. Luminescent.
She followed it, hoping that it leaded her to a place less confusing.
Walking along, her eyes recovered.
She saw woods, all around in the darkness of dusk. The sky's light was fading. Pale and sickening.
With the floor covered in fauna.
She crouched down examining them, bluebells.
She stroked the petals wondering where she was, there were no bluebell woods around her area. Come to think of it, there were no woods anything like this.
No.
These woods were old.
For as far as the eye could see there were only the trees and the coating of bluebells to the forest.
She stood still, not sure what to do. The light had gone away. Either direction looked the same to her. There was no point to trying to find her way back.
Then at once there was a flurry of lights flying in the air around her, battering past her and in circles. Fairies.
All pale blue in colour and silvery. Fluttering past.
And through the flurry of wings she saw a person running in between the trees near her.
She sprinted out of the globe of fairies towards them.
She knew he could tell her what to do, where to go.
Catching up she could see they were running out of breath, she would get to him soon.
She could go home soon. She would have no trouble out running him. She felt fine, not a single problem. She ran and ran on. But he would not be able to.
She found herself calling out to him
"Harry!"
Surprised at this she stopped.
He fled away.
All she could do was watch his getting further and further from her.
Her eyes stayed on him. To her she was the one getting further away. He was simply carrying on.
She was interrupted from the strange thoughts that entered her mind by a single ringing.
A small bell tinkering.
Sounding sweet at first, it grew stronger, louder. More frequent.
Til she was on the floor, paralysed. Unsure of what this was. Confused as ever, in the woods that once more were that dark spiteful blue and nauseating.
The bells rang out shrilly, piercing her ears with their ominous peal.
*Make it stop*
++++
She gasped and clasped at the covers, ambling for breath. Hers short and sharp, frightened. What was that?
A dream, answered.
*Just a dream*
The memory of it came back to her; Harry was in it.
And the bluebells, the ringing. The awful feeling like she was going to die.
She felt comforted by the fact she was alive, or appeared to be.
The bluebells.
Bluebells. Hmm. Odd to dream of. She was sure they were meant to mean something. Something she'd learned at school.
Though if that had come from Trelawney then it wouldn't mean anything.
All superstition.
And the awful feeling like she was going to die.
Probably just some silly association of the mind.
~