Chapter 6: Thursday
"Ron!"
Green light filled the front windows.
"Go Ron, now!"
"I'm staying with you, Harry!"
Fred and George fumbled quickly up the stairs, Percy trailing as he tugged violently on Ron's shirt collar.
"No, go!" Harry screamed
The door swung open and a dark figure filled the threshold.
A deep, chilled voice said, "Potter…"
A green glow at the end of a dark wand. And then…A man crashed on the figure in the doorway from behind.
"Run, Harry!" Sirius yelled.
"Sirius?"
"Run! Now!"
Harry started running up the stairs after Ron, but his legs felt like lead. Green filled the room. High pitched laughter filled his mind and his scar burned like a thousand torches.
"No!" Harry yelled as green flames engulfed him.
"No!" Harry yelled as he jumped up from the bed sheets, drenched in sweat and panting frantically.
Harry's heart was beating so fast and loud in his ears that he hardly heard the whisper of Hermione's voice. She was at the kitchen counter behind his fold-out bed trying to talk low but excitement kept raising her voice. Harry turned to look at her and she paused for a moment, no doubt to consider why he had jolted so violently from his sleep; yet a smile still lingered on her face from whatever the voice on the other line was telling her.
"Okay," Hermione spoke into the receiver. "And Harry's up now, so I'll tell him the news. Okay, Daddy. Okay. Love you too."
Harry sat half-turned toward Hermione, still panting and partially covered by the bed sheets. The clock on the kitchen wall said five in the afternoon. He had been up all night.
As Hermione hung up the phone, he saw that her face looked brighter than it had been all week, like a thin, almost invisible shadow had lifted itself from her features. She looked more stunning than ever. But his nightmare lingered, sticking to his mind like a leech.
"That was Dad," she said, brimming with happiness. "He says Grandpa is actually going to make it!" She was so elated by blurting this out that she jumped toward Harry and gave him a long, tight hug. He hugged her back, trying to work out the emotions in his mind between being indescribably happy for her and feeling the looming threat in his head.
"That's great!" He finally spit out.
"I know! I know! The doctors don't know how he recovered. It's like a miracle."
Harry didn't know what to think of it. No one in the wizard world knows of it, let alone would likely help such a seemingly minor matter with Voldemort threatening. Maybe it was truly one of those unexplained events. He was indeed happy for her. But Voldemort…
"Mom and Dad are going to have to stay an extra day, though," Hermione continued. "Just to double check everything and call all the relatives. They said they'll be back Saturday."
All Harry could do was nod and smile, and say "I'm happy for you" as Hermione jounced around in her joy and relief. After a moment she stopped and stood still, looking at Harry questioningly.
"You're upset," she said simply. The shadow that had settled in Hermione's features over the past few days had left her entirely, but had now decided to nestle nicely on Harry's face. It had been growing darker by the minute.
Harry sighed. "I really am happy for you, Hermione. I know that's a big weight off your shoulders. But--"
"But now Ron's in trouble," Hermione said, growing sullen.
Harry nodded.
"That's why I let you sleep," Hermione said. "I figured you'd be up all night after yesterday's mail."
There was a pause as Hermione looked towards the hallway for a moment, and then turned back to Harry. "Harry," she started. "Remember that field I told you about a few blocks away?" She didn't give Harry time to answer. "I want you to go there with me. We'll get dressed, eat a good lunch, and then head over there. It's absolutely beautiful; clear skies, clean air. It'll give us time to think, and talk."
Harry sniffed and nodded. He needed to talk.
The sky was indeed clear, with just whispers of thin white clouds playing along the crisp tree line of the horizon. The field stood out like a huge green blanket, grass fanning out from the tapered end of the neighborhood into the undeveloped countryside. The sun sprayed down its fading warmth from the western corner of the blue sky as Harry and Hermione trekked the six blocks, chose an arbitrary spot of green, and sat down comfortably amid the grass blades. A slight breeze picked up just then, comforting Harry a little and momentarily lightening the weight that sat uneven on his mind.
The two sat cross-legged, facing each other in silence, letting the surrounding tranquility calm their thoughts. The gentle song of birds in the distance helped Harry settle and with a sigh he was able to bring to words the anxiety that was on his mind.
"It never stops," Harry started, starring out into the trees as he spoke. Hermione sat, focused and listening. "It just never stops. I left the tyranny of the Dursley's for the tyranny of Voldemort. At least living with my aunt and uncle wasn't life-threatening."
Harry paused to stop his mouth from trembling. He didn't want to cry in front of Hermione. Inhaling deeply, he continued. "Hagrid was right when he said I was touched by a curse. I don't think he realized just how wide it surrounded me though, like some black cloud looming over me, always, never shrinking after each storm. And now . . . now it's starting to hurt everyone I know."
"Ron . . ." Hermione said meekly.
Harry nodded and snorted cynically. "I'm the boy who lived. Maybe things would have been better if I hadn't been; then everyone I cared about wouldn't be at constant risk, and Ron would still be coming back to Hogwarts . . ."
"Harry, don't say that!" Hermione protested, putting her hand on Harry's shoulder, leaning him toward her so he looked her in the eyes. "If you didn't survive, Voldemort would have still been a constant danger to everyone. He probably would be even more powerful by now, and half the wizarding families would have either turned to the Dark Side or been murdered by now, including the Weasley's."
Harry sighed but remained silent. If only she saw what he saw last summer. Voldemort just has that way of finding things out. He destroyed the Burrow, and nearly killed Ron and his family. Harry wouldn't be surprised if the Malfoys had somehow helped in the matter. It always made an icy shiver blaze down his back, bringing with it a horrifying sense of déjà vu; the green light, the high laughter, his burning scar, it all reminded him so much of his nightmares in his youth. It all must have happened the same way with his parents. At least the Weasley's all made it out alive. Harry hoped that it would continue to stay that way.
"Harry, it's not your fault Ron and his family had to go into hiding. Everything is Voldemort's doing, everything has resulted from his maliciousness, his greed, his lack of respect for human life. Aside from Dumbledore, Harry, it's you who has stood up to him successfully all those times; it's you who has defeated him again and again; it'll be you who defeats him for the last time. I don't have a doubt in my mind about that."
A hint of warmth crept back into Harry's eyes and a smile was thinking of forming on his mouth. How did she do that? She made that black cloud look smaller; made him feel like maybe, just maybe, the storm would pass eventually.
Hermione leaned in and hugged Harry tightly. She spoke softly into his ear, "Ron will be back. He and his family will get through this. With any luck he'll return before the year is up. Dumbledore won't let any of his students be intimidated out of completing their education, especially by Voldemort."
Yes, it would feel better going back to Hogwarts, living once more under the vigilant eye of Dumbledore. And Hermione would be there.
Hermione pulled back slightly to smile into Harry's face.
Harry was struck by a sudden desire to protect her. Hermione's very life was in danger by being so close to him. And if the Malfoy's played a part in the destruction of the Burrow, it would make Draco even happier to see Hermione destroyed.
Hermione's eyes locked with Harry's, and his mind raced as he fell into her beautifully brown gaze.
An intense fury for Draco seized Harry's heart, and he didn't know what he would do when he saw him again in a week. Everything would be okay if Hermione came out of this unharmed.
Hermione's hand reached up to stroke Harry's cheek. Her fingers trailed through the tangled tresses of his black hair and found their way to the nape of his neck.
Hogwarts, England, the entire world would all be alright if Hermione stayed safe.
A distance sense of pressure came to Harry; Hermione was pulling gently on the back of his head. Her beautiful face was filling his vision.
Everything would be alright so long as Hermione was alive. So long as she was with him.
Their lips met.
Like a beam of sunlight, Harry's being shot in on one sensation--Hermione's mouth pressed against his. The soft double flesh of her lips touched his with a longing, wonderfully assertiveness. Every neuron in his brain fired off as fireflies filled the edges of his vision and pins danced beneath his skin. A fevered intensity filled his stomach, his shoulders, his lips as they reciprocated and kissed back on her mouth with certainty. His hands, mindlessly, found her cheeks and rubbed at the skin behind her jaw. Her hands traced the line of his shoulders and rose up to his head, pulling him eagerly closer. Their mouths would part only to come crashing onto each other again, all the more demanding the more selfish for each other's taste and touch. Their breath mingled, tongues flirted, fingers trailed the textures of faces, feeling the delicate connection of their lips to assure their reality. Everything was lost in this moment--a break in the black cloud where a ray of sublime passion warmed the dark soil of their bodies with the glow of this kiss.
Everything after that had shifted for Harry, not blurred, but shifted. The waning hours of kissing, the sun sluggishly finding its way comfortably back to the horizon hours ago then sneaking away and leaving them in the dark without realizing it, the slow walk home across those blocks. Everything had a subtle sense of auspice to it. The very air was electrified, and was particularly intense around Hermione. They held hands absentmindedly as they walked home, staying silent, a wordless agreement flowing between them.
They reached the house at 11:55 in the evening and Hermione unlocked the door.
They entered, locked the front door, and made their way to the kitchen to discard watches and earrings at the kitchen counter. Ron's note sat folded and over-read on the counter, holding its short, simple sentences in its rushed, black script: "Harry. Won't be returning to Hogwarts. Too risky. Will keep in touch. Stay safe. Ron." The clock hit 11:56.
Kicking off their shoes and sloughing off their socks, they walked down the hallway as the clock struck 11:57.
The way seemed longer as they walked closer together, stopping twice to kiss against the walls. 11:58.
They stood in the doorway of Hermione's room kissing, tickling at each other's collars. They starred at each other, the current in the air stopped for one breathless second as they read the meaning in each other's eyes. 11:59.
Slowly, so slowly, Hermione tugged on Harry's shirt, pulled him into her room, and shut her bedroom door. An audible click resounded in the hall as she locked the door.
Midnight.
Author's Note: First and foremost I would like to apologize countless times for having taken so long to get this next chapter out, it's been over a month I believe. I know many of you have been looking forward to this next installment for a long time, of which I am completely appreciative, but rest assured it was not without some reason. I posted Chapter 5 around mid-December and had hoped to write, complete, and post the final chapters of this story before having to go out of town for the holidays. Unfortunately, this failed to happen due to academic responsibilities (Final Exams), and I left with my girlfriend and parents to North Carolina--three states away, and with little enough computer access to keep writing and posting--to spend the holidays with relatives. I returned just in time to prepare for the approaching semester (I'm in college) and have since been preoccupied with adjusting to a new semester of classes and also with Grad school applications. This explains the circumstances but doesn't necessarily justify them. However, as this chapter is hopefully a sign of, things are simmering down a little and I will hopefully be able to complete the last two chapters of this story soon. Again, I sincerely apologize for the delay and want to express my complete gratitude and appreciation for all the accolades and praise, and especially suggestions that you have provided me. I only hope this chapter and the remainder of this tale lives up to your anticipation and expectations.
Also, in response to a review: I was told that it seemed out of place that Ron was using Errol instead of Pig for his owl-mail, and the reviewer wondered if I had done it intentionally or not. My response is that it is a complete and utter mistake on my part. ;) I read the books about two years ago, and am just now starting to reread them. Right now, I'm precisely on Book 2, chapter title: Aragog. So I haven't gotten to Pig yet, and have been kind of relying on the second movie for the owl name, which is also why I initially spelled Errol wrong-I had heard it, but couldn't remember reading it. I also more or less forgot about Hermione's cat Crookshanks, which is why I haven't mentioned him. Though that may be excusable because doesn't Crookshanks end up being an animorph? I can't remember. Oh well, I guess I'll find out when I hit book 3. Thank you all for your wonderful comments. I hope you enjoy the story despite my discrepancies.