Hush by msscribe
Disclaimer: No profits are being made off the fiction on these pages. Harry Potter, associated characters and the associated Harry Potter universe is © J. K. Rowling and respective publishers.
Chapter 2 - Into the Woods
~~~~~~~~
The forest makes noises, stirrings, and sometimes they can hear sounds echoing from far away. It will sound like a small cry or a soft booming, things not heard on Hogwarts grounds. They do not know what is making these voices, if it is just the wind and water, or some creature patiently waiting to be stumbled upon.
They have been walking for nearly three hours, but the usual nervousness is still there. It's always there. The weather is brisk, but calm enough, and at this rate they might actually make it to the swamp by sundown.
The book under Harry's arm starts wiggling around. Ron casts a bewildered glance at Harry.
"What's it saying?" Ron asks.
Don't take the worn path! Too many tragedies there -
Harry points towards a thick row of trees. "It says we should not stay on the path, we can cut through there."
Ron shakes his head. "Of course that's what it says. After all, who'd want to do this the easy way? I hope Hermione appreciates this if we ever find her."
They move forward, making their own trail for a while. A tiny gray mouse bobs forward, then runs under a bush. Harry takes a step backwards, startled for a few seconds.
"So far so good...nothing we can't handle," Harry says, all the while realizing how lethally unprepared for this journey they both are.
Ron understands that they absolutely have to do this. They have to find her. Hermione would do the same for either of them.
Ron holds his hand out, wrist up. "Do you feel that?"
Harry shakes his head no at first, but then a droplet of water lands on his nose.
"We'd better find shelter," Ron says pointing to their right, "That group of trees over there."
~~~~~~~~
The skillet cooks Hermione a lunch of corn cakes and berries. She watches as the steam from her plate rises up into nothing.
Don't let all my hard work go to waste by waiting until it's cold -
'Sorry,' Hermione thinks, scooping a berry into her mouth, 'it's wonderful'.
The night before, she had to will herself to sleep. This morning, she will have to will herself stay awake.
He's gone to meet the Giant today - the kitchen door whispers to her - better be obedient -
Her thoughts are elsewhere.
She's thinking about the dark haired boy again - chair giggles- she thinks about him a lot -
Hermione stuffs the corn cake into her mouth, forcing it down with one dry gulp. The kitchen is cold again this morning. The clock in the hall chimes eight am. One hundred and four days now. Harry and Ron must certainly think she's dead.
You'd better hope he doesn't trade you -window sneers - he just might you know -
Even though the air in there is frigid, she's glad the window slides up and down of it's own accord whenever it chooses to speak. It gives her a chance to hear the birds outside. Her corn cakes are coated with a fine powdered sugar.
She likes things sweet - plate explains - and sugar bowl doesn't get much use-
She wonders if she's read all of the books in his small library. She can't imagine he's ever read them, because they are so neatly lined up and on display. Just another part of his collection.
Should we tell her about the room? - a new voice says anxiously - she seems so very nice -
Shhhhhh- many voices cry out - quiet now! -
Hermione is still. She looks around to see where the voice is coming from. It's something she hasn't heard before. It's his belt lying over a chair. He had forgotten to put it on.
'What room?' she thinks. The belt shakes nervously.
Master Edred prefers to keep it secret! - table scolds- he will punish you if you seek it out-
'Tell me.'
The belt doesn't have much willpower. It's only a belt after all.
~~~~~~~~
Ron picks the two fattest, squishiest 'fuzzy' fruits from the row of bushes nearest to them, and hands one to Harry. The rain never amounted to more than a brief sun shower, but they had decided to stay put for a few minutes to rest and go over their plan - or lack thereof. The fruit tastes heavenly, and Harry is grateful they had both paid attention in Professor Sprout's class that semester.
"God, I really needed that," Ron says, licking his fingers clean of the sweet syrupy juice.
There is a scrambling noise a few feet behind them, and both of them stand with their wands ready.
"What the hell was that?" Harry says, looking all around.
Then he hears a continuous squeal that makes his teeth ache. It's a hideous noise, like an animal being tortured.
"Look up there!" Ron says, pointing towards an oak tree a few feet behind them. Something is struggling to free itself from a patch of prickly vines writhing around it, covering almost every inch of it's body.
They move cautiously closer, wands pointed. They can almost make out what the creature is. It's upper lip is rising and falling in a disgruntled snarl and the barely visible eyes are moving from Harry to Ron, and then to Harry again.
The sunlight is causing a glare in Harry's glasses, and he squints to try to see what it is. Ron grumbles.
"Great, just great!" Ron says aloud.
"Can you tell what it is yet?" Harry says.
Ron groans, pointing his wand at the vine.
"Disintigris plantus," Ron says.
The vine screams and crumbles into dust. The girl is propelled forward like a slingshot, her hands and knees scuffing against the dirt, still screeching. She stares up at them through her tousled hair, momentarily dazed.
"It's hideous," Ron scoffs.
Pansy Parkinson stands and brushes herself off. "You are not even beneath my contempt Ronald Weasley."
~~~~~~~~
The belt leads Hermione to a locked door on the third floor of the house. She had always assumed it was a closet, never having seen him open it.
'Please open, I just want to see what's inside, I promise not to get you in trouble.'
She waits. She has never spoken to this door before.
You promise - it asks - you won't harm anything? -
'I swear.'
The doorknob turns slowly, and the door creaks open. Hermione quietly enters. The pine boards are cold on her bare feet as she moves across the room. The space is dark, but there is a patch of light silhouetting a tall wooden box in the middle of the floor.
'What is it? It looks so plain.'
I'm not plain. It's where he keeps his sight-
She reaches out to touch it.
'May I look inside?' she thinks to the box.
The box opens up to her. It is filled with tiny blue vials.
'I don't understand?'
She picks one up.
We let you see -
The blue vial starts to heat up. It disintegrates in her hand. Something tugs at her soul as a force overtakes her body.
Liquid drips from her forehead, and suddenly she can see the Forbidden Forest.
Her heart beats faster and her palms grow sweaty.
She can see Harry. Harry is in the forest.
~~~~~~~~
"Why were you following us Parkinson?" Harry says, glaring at her suspiciously, "Is anyone else with you?"
Pansy lifts her nose into the air, haughtily pursing her lips together in a defiant sneer.
"Awfully suspicious aren't you? I am a very big girl Potter, and if I want to take a walk in the woods unsupervised, I certainly can."
Ron turns to see Harry's reaction. His hands are balled up at his side. "No one goes for a walk in the Forbidden Forest, not as far out as we are now. So why don't you save your breath and tell us why you're here. Are you collecting ingredients for dark magic, looking for something more terrifying than yourself perhaps? Go on, I'll try to be open minded!" he says sarcastically.
Pansy folds her arms across her chest and narrows her eyes at Ron. "Open minded eh? Is that how your brain slipped out?"
Ron points his wand at her. "I swear, I should have let her get eaten by that plant!"
Harry looks around to be sure no one else is there.
"Well…you either tell us and we'll let you stay with us, or you can try to make it back to Hogwarts before dark, although I hate to think of what will happen to you if you don't make it back in time," Harry says.
Pansy can well imagine what her fate will be.
"Fine. I was following you. I saw you and Ron sneak out this morning and I thought I'd find out what you two were plotting. I didn't pay attention to the time and I became afraid of getting lost so I stayed close. Happy?"
Ron lowers his wand. Pansy bends to pick hers out of the grass.
"Planning to report back to Malfoy were you?"
"I would say that you aren't a complete idiot, but what's my opinion compared to that of the rest of the world," she snaps.
Ron shakes his head angrily, turning a bright shade of red. "No way Harry! No way am I putting up with her!"
She swings her hair and smirks at them. Harry leans in close to Ron.
"We can't leave her here alone Ron."
"Why the Hell not? She's scarier than anything I've seen here so far today!"
Harry shrugs. "Look, we've got to focus on saving Hermione. Just try turning the other cheek for once."
Pansy walks over and picks a 'fuzzy' fruit from the nearby bush. She bites into it, slurping rudely.
"I don't need him to turn the other cheek Harry, it's just as ugly."
"Why you ungrateful little - " Ron starts.
Harry turns and starts walking without them. They both freeze and watch him for a few seconds, confused at his sudden departure. Harry stops and turns.
"Well... are you coming? We've only got two hours left of daylight and we still need to find a place to sleep."
Ron walks first. Pansy waits, thinking over her choices again, and then follows.
"Moron," she says to Ron as she catches up with them.
"Tart."
Pansy growls and keeps walking, "Bloody vines left tiny holes all over my perfect skin!"
Harry rolls his eyes and Ron snorts.
"What do you want us to do about it?" Harry asks.
"Nothing, I've just been used as some plant's pin cushion is all! Perhaps you could slow down a bit."
Ron laughs, "You should be used to it Pansy, being as you've had more pricks in you than a secondhand dartboard."
~~~~~~~~
He's early - front door says- he's early today-
Hermione's whole body becomes instantly numb, and she feels a second or two of hideous paralysis. She hopes she has left everything in the room as it was before. She hopes he doesn't notice one of his vials is gone. The belt assured her earlier that he never counts those. He's always getting more.
He's brought her gifts! - a tree outside the door says - He should give her nothing if you ask me, it's a good thing he can't hear us or else I'd tell on the little ingrate-
The shock of seeing him always makes her want to scream. This feeling tears at her mute throat, and sometimes she lets her body go through the motions just for the release.
She stands as he enters the room. The look on his face is unmistakable. Hermione can sense that his day has been unsuccessful.
He sets down his large wooden club and moves towards a collection of glass spheres lying on the middle shelf. He picks one up and raises it to his face, examining the colorful ball of sparks inside. It is a collection of living light. It's beautiful to watch as it struggles to free itself. He thinks that everything is beautiful when it struggles.
It has taken him months to collect them, and they always give him a sense of satisfaction. It is nothing compared to the satisfaction he gets from her.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wrapped brown package. He hands it to Hermione.
"Unwrap it, then be grateful I could find these."
She does as he says, revealing some articles of clothing. Female undergarments. She manages a smile and he grunts.
"One man escaped me today," he says angrily, "but he'll most likely not survive the night."
He watches her modestly hide her new things behind her back. In the thicket, he ran into an old ally who offered him a valuable sight crystal for trade, but there is no price, not one that anyone could afford anyhow, that would make him trade her away.
He had expected to become bored with her, like his other possessions, but she was a complicated creature. He had never really spent any time with a human before, and he found the way she chose to live fascinating. Most creatures he collected had begged him for all that he would allow, but she never did. She always took the least food; never provoked him to strike her.
Her smiles are forced, and he hates that, but he doesn't really care all that much. She is voiceless; she is a prize.
~~~~~~~~
The winds drop low as the clouds dissolve into the darkness. They are sitting in a small cave only a few feet from the edge of the swamp. Harry's eyelids feel like they are being weighted down, but it's his turn to keep watch.
Even Hermione's book has stopped rambling to him.
Harry thinks he can make out someone walking in the distance. It could be anything. At least they are beyond the realm of the spiders, and shielded by the lack of moonlight tonight.
Ron's sleep is now very deep. Pansy still stirs occasionally. To her credit, she was fairly quiet the last hour of their walk. They were all tired, and they still had at least two days journey to go until they reach the center of the forest, where the map said Hermione had been taken.
Harry wishes they could just apparate, but you couldn't do that in the Forbidden Forest. He is anxious to see her.
Harry glimpses something. It's only a pixie. It doesn't pay him any mind. The trees are still. Everything is perfectly still. It was luck that they found this cave when they did. The night had grown slightly chilly, and making a fire would have called too much attention to themselves. They had to settle for a small warming spell instead.
So far, they have only come across a couple of pixies, and a mountain troll they avoided crossing paths with. Besides Pansy 'dropping' in on them, everything is going well.
Harry lets his eyes shut for just a second, thinking about what the book had shown him the night before. So many times he wondered if what he felt for Hermione, she felt in kind. Then there it was, all the proof that he needed scratched out in pencil; his name written in her neat little script.
He hears a woman's voice singing. It is high and sweet, like a lullaby. He opens his eyes and sees nothing.
Leaves are rustling now, a slight breeze starting to pick up. He will find her. He will save her, or die trying.
~~~~~~~~
Wishful thinking sweetie - the bra says - eat your vegetables and maybe one day you'll be able to fill me up nicely -
Hermione hates having to wear the things he steals or kills for, but she has no choice. She had arrived with only a nightgown on.
'Thanks a lot' she thinks sarcastically.
They're lovely- the bra says apologetically - but you don't need anything like me -
She decides she will wait to try on the underwear until morning. God only knows what it would have to say. It is getting late and she is tired, and worried for Harry and Ron. She hadn't seen Ron, but she knows he with Harry. He is always with Harry.
You need your rest - bed says - I'm nice and warm-
Hermione says a prayer for them, and climbs between the sheets. She mouths a song her mother used to sing for her, and she can still hear it in her head...even if no one else can.