And in my darkest moments, fetal and weeping
The moon tells me a secret- my confidant
As full and bright as I am
This light is not my own and
A million light reflections pass over me
Its source is bright and endless
She resuscitates the hopeless
Without her, we are lifeless satellites drifting…
Tool
CHAPTER EIGHT: The Importance of Truth
Hermione awoke to the smell of the sterile Hospital Wing. The sluggish throbbing of her shoulder was hauntingly faint and slowly, her mind had begun to assess what exactly had just occurred. For a moment, she lay against the chilly sheets of her bed and stared blankly at the ceiling above. She tried to rationalize. She weighed options, process, strategies that were completely unnecessary. She doubted. She believed.
She was so completely lost.
How had things spiraled this far out of control?
Oh god, she had kissed him. She had pressed her lips to his, feeding on the rush of adrenaline and that delightful tingle that turned her insides out. She had nearly begged him to touch her like that and right there, but could never find her voice. The fire between the two of them was undeniable, fierce, and so bloody scary that her mind could not rationalize anything that had to do with it.
Hermione pushed herself into a sitting positing, ignoring the soreness of her shoulder. She sighed. She could not keep doing this. She could not keep trying to process something like this, something so monumental. It was terrifying and wonderful, but it was something that should not, could not happen. Something so terribly-
Right.
She buried her face in her cold hands. As if, things weren't complicated enough.
"Ah, Miss Granger. I see you are finally among us. How are you feeling?"
She tensed at the sudden, but expected arrival of Professor Dumbledore. Her eyes met his with sudden unease. She could not help but suspicious of the older man. Briefly, she remembered that Ginny had mentioned something about Harry and Dumbledore conversing in the hallways. It hadn't looked good, Ginny had told her. In fact, it looked downright terrible. She recognized an unsettling and dangerous change in her Headmaster's demeanor. Forcing a smile, Hermione steeled herself for the interrogation to come.
"Better," she murmured. "My shoulder's still a bit sore."
Dumbledore nodded. "It's to be expected. The designed nature of the curse you were hit with has a long and painful scaring period. I'm sorry that the healing salve could not do much more."
She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Don't you think I don't know that? She sighed. "Thank you for your concern, Professor. But if you don't mind me asking…"
"Of course, child," the old man conceded.
Hermione was momentarily grateful for his disturbing ability to be insightful during times such as this one. She searched her mind for a subtle approach to asking the millions of questions that had settled in the dark recess of her mind.
"I suppose you're wondering about young Mr. Potter. Am I correct in assuming?"
"That's part of it," she murmured quietly. "I'm not quite sure where to begin though."
"Perhaps from the beginning."
The beginning? Was there even such a thing at this point? Hermione sighed, wringing her hands nervously in her lap.
"My…My parents didn't want me to return to Hogwarts year."
The words left her lips and caused a definite change in the air. It was almost as if she were finally admitting to herself that she was directly affected by the chaotic mess brewing in the wizarding world. In some respects, she had long ago acknowledged that there was no way she couldn't take part in this. She was Harry Potter's best friend; involvement by association was automatic without a doubt. She knew her parents were in danger, especially now, but what hadn't registered in her mind was their negative response to her life here at Hogwarts. But her life in the Muggle World was spiraling down the proverbial hole and she couldn't very well protect her family if the refused to be rational about this.
"I see," the Headmaster replied. "Have you made them aware of the situation that you've become involved with?"
"No," she murmured. "I was going to tell them this summer as…as soon as I returned from school. I've never not told my parents anything, but I found that I couldn't tell them, especially since they didn't want to listen."
She unconsciously rubbed her shoulder. "I wasn't expecting the this-isn't-practical talk until seventh year at least. And I suppose a part me wished that they'd ask question or show some sort of interest in my life, but they haven't…"
"Miss Granger," he interrupted. "It is normal for the parents of muggleborns to-"
"-to have a mixed reaction to their child's development within the society of the wizarding world. The tendency is not to understand, but a natural reaction. Sir, I've read the books. Professor McGonagall has given me the lecture. I'm sorry if I fell victim to my nostalgic feelings and wishes. Isn't it only natural for a child to want his or her parents' support?"
She was breathing heavily, the pain in her shoulder forcing her to calm down. "I apologize, Headmaster. I'm just very tired."
The older man smiled, the infamous twinkle appearing in his blue eyes. Hermione swallowed. There was that feeling again in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't help but feel as if the Headmaster had purposely goaded her into a mock argument about her parents.
"You're under a substantial amount of pressure, Miss Granger. Nothing to be ashamed about."
She said nothing, allowing him to continue.
"We are entering a time that has the potential of great terror."
"I'm well-aware of that," she replied quietly. "I've never been the one not to thing of actions and the consequences that befall others as a result."
"He will need you in this hour of great challenge."
It's almost as if he rehearsed this, she mused, uncomfortable with the weight of his ambiguous statement. He's placing all the important players in place for the game…
"Headmaster," she murmured finally. The concern was a mere trifle. This wasn't about her at all. "I can't do anything for him if he doesn't ask. It isn't right to impose myself upon him."
The Headmaster looked at her strangely for a brief moment. She watched as the twinkle in his eye disappeared with alarming speed, but it came back just as fast.
"Quite right you are, Miss Granger. Quite right you are." He leaned forward and gave her a pat on her clasped hands. "I believe we shall continue our conversation another day, but remember my door is always opened."
"Thank you, sir." She didn't know what else to say. "I'll keep that in mind."
He smiled. "Good. Now I do believe a frantic Miss Abbott is waiting to visit with you."
She gave the Headmaster a half-smile and a nod, watching him leave with a dark sense of foreboding. She couldn't help but wonder if he was intentionally pushing her towards Harry. Not that they hadn't gravitated towards each other all ready, but she felt like there was a much more dangerous purpose that he was trying to inspire.
Her thoughts were soon cut short when an anxious Hannah Abbott flew into the Hospital Ward with her books in tow.
"You're okay!" The Hufflepuff exclaimed, setting what looked like to be the day's assignments atop her bedside table. She grimaced when she saw that most of it was Advanced Potions.
Hermione gave Hannah a tentative smile. "I'm fine."
"Bullshit," her friend cursed, her gaze darkening. "Look, I know that you've been friends with Harry and Ron longer, but there's no reason why you shouldn't tell me what's wrong. I just want you to trust me, no matter how dangerous. I might not be to always handle it, but I'll listen."
"I know," she murmured. "I-I'm just not ready to talk about some things right now. I think it's more so that I'm ready to admit it to myself."
Hannah sighed. "I just want you to know that I'm here."
"I know," she replied, watching as Hannah began ruffling through her robes. Her eyes widened when the other girl pulled a crumple envelope out of her pocket.
"Before I forget, `cause I've got Herbology next…Professor Snape said that he found this on the ground."
From one mess to another, she mused. With trembling hands, she took the letter. Her name was etched across in her mother's elegant handwriting and she forced herself to swallow back tears of frustration.
"Hermione," Hannah began, grabbing her hand. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"
She closed her eyes. "I don't know. Life maybe," she slid a finger under the opened flap and pulled out the letter. "I didn't think they were serious… obviously I was wrong."
Hermione handed the piece of paper to her friend. She didn't have to read what the piece of paper said. She already knew. I can only take an empty house for so long, she had told Harry when she arrived at Grimmauld Place with fresh scars from the intense fighting with her parents.
"They didn't," Hannah breathed. She had once confided to Hermione that her father, a muggle, had vehemently protested against her attending Hogwarts. Her friend's eyes went wide.
"They did," she confirmed quietly. "They gave me an ultimatum."
The heaviness of the word lay between the two girls like a terrible omen of things to come. Hermione swallowed and then continue. "I didn't think it'd come down to this."
Hannah reached for her hand and squeezed. "Have you tried rationalizing with them?"
A hollow laugh escaped her lips. "My parents? My parents? Han, my mum would barely listen to me when I tried to explain that Voldemort had risen to power and the danger-she told me that I needed to wake up from this fantasy world. So yes, yes, I've tried. I can do nothing more."
"But," Hannah stammered. "They're your parents. They can't-"
"They can," she murmured. "They've been kind enough to allow me until graduation to come to my senses. That is if I make it to graduation."
"Don't talk like that, Hermione," Hannah admonished.
"I can't help it." She closed her eyes. "And I can't help that I don't want to fight anymore. Mum just wrote to tell me that there was no point in coming home for Christmas. They were going to some place in America for the holidays. She just happened to mention the fact that they expected me to come to my senses."
She sighed and forced a smile onto her lips. "Hey, don't you have Herbology to go to?"
Hannah's eyes widened. "Merlin!" She handed her letter back, her eyes narrowing knowingly. "It doesn't mean we're not finished talking about this, Hermione."
Hermione sighed, giving her friend a half-hearted nod. "All right."
Hannah gave her a wave and vanished out the door, leaving Hermione with her thoughts and her letter. A tired sigh escaped her lips. The great weight of her parent's ultimatum and everything else nestled upon her shoulders. Sometimes she wished that she could just curl up and stay in bed.
What happened to you? You used to be so practical!
I am not staring at my daughter. I'm staring at a stranger.
When are you going to wake up, Hermione? Come back to the real world, there is nothing pragmatic about waving a piece of wood in the air.
"Hey."
She jumped, her eyes flying to the entrance of the Hospital ward. Harry was leaning against the doorway, his shirt wrinkled and his arms crossed over his chest. She licked her lips, a warm flush spreading over her cheeks.
"Hello," she whispered shyly, all thoughts of her parents and her conversations with the Headmaster erased from her mind.
"Could I?" He motioned to the spot on top of her bed that Hannah had occupied moments earlier.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded, surprising herself by reaching out her hand for him to take. She swallowed at the smoky glance Harry sent in her direction, the memories of their fiery first kiss rising in her mind.
Hermione watched with half-lidded eyes as he stepped forward and took her hand in his, settling atop her hospital bed and running his thumb in slow circles against the outside of her hand. She swallowed. The rawness of their feverish connection struggled to reawaken once more.
"We need to talk," Harry half-growled, half-whispered. "I need-I need to tell you the truth."
"All right," she replied softly.
He brought their joined hands to his lips and brushed a kiss against her fingertips.
"All right."
Thus, the first wall began to crumble.
A/N: Wait a second. Did I just update in within the span of a week? Much, much earlier than I planned? *blinks* I suppose miracles do happen. Then again, it could always just be the lack of attention that I pay in math. The A I have in that class is the real miracle.
So thanks guys for reviewing! I always appreciate the reviews and the death threats for faster updates. *smirks* But seriously, thank you. It's wonderful to know that you're enjoying the story. Also thank you to Chaosblades because he's wonderful for my ego and just so charming!
And a couple people that are worth mentioning as well. Goldy who's told me to get my priorities straight is probably the most responsible for the quickness of this posting. danielerin who has always left me some of the nicest of reviews and has friended me over at lj. *smiles* And last, but not least, Demosthenes who always makes me laugh with the novel-length reviews.
A couple things that I need to mention… Well, I take that back. I'll just say this. Just remember that everything isn't set in stone. Ron's a git because well, he's a git… In all seriousness, Ron's the way he is for specific reason that I'm not going to get into but will be cleared up in the next group of chapters.
Also because I'm a dork and I hate math, I forgot to mention that I've hidden a line from a Nine Inch Nails song in either Chapter Seven or in this one. If you can find it, I will write you a one-shot of choice. I'll even write you fluff, as painful as that is for me. If you don't, *shrugs* I gave credit where it was do. But leave a note in my lj…
And I think that about sums it up for now.
Keep reviewing!
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