Title: One heart, One voice.
Summary: A second Prophecy, a concealed love, and an unknown power come to light.
Based on: Books 1-5.
Genre: Romance/Action/Adventure
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, never said I did… I just like to use the characters and the universe for my own little fantasies… is that so wrong?
A/N: OK, this is in response to a challenge set by Excalibur in the H/Hr challenges on Portkey.
Chapter 3
Hermione lay fully conscious, but un-moving in her makeshift cell, aching all over, her head throbbing painfully.
She had kicked and screamed at the large wooden door for the first hour after she woke, demanding to be released, throwing everything she could at said door, which, in a completely bare room was her own body. She had searched the room for any routes of escape, and tried in vain to smash the tiny window letting in the miniscule amount of light that illuminated the tiny box in which she was being kept.
Eventually however, she realised that no matter how much she yelled and screamed, she wouldn't be let out anytime soon, so she lay still, silent, waiting for a sign of movement outside of the door.
'How could I have been so stupid?' she asked herself angrily 'I should have known what was going on He's been far too quiet over the past few months! Why didn't I trust my own instincts?! I knew someone was following me, so why wasn't I ready for… whoever it was?! Why did I let myself be such an easy target?!'
She sighed loudly, the first sound she had made in over three hours, and sat up far too quickly as she felt a dizzy spell hit her, making her light-headed and slightly disorientated.
It was then that the door slammed open revealing a tall figure dressed in a black robe, standing ominously in the doorway. It would have been obvious to anybody with even the smallest amount of knowledge about the wizarding world that this man was a death eater, even with his tell tale mask removed.
Hermione was sure that she had seen this man before, but she didn't have much time to dwell on that thought, as he rushed forwards and seized her roughly, forcing her to stand and walk out of the room with out so much as a whisper of explanation.
He pushed her down several short passageways and down several flights of stairs before shoving her through a grand doorway into a spacious room, in which an ornate fireplace stood alight and several comfortable looking chairs placed strategically around the room.
The flames in the fireplace, Hermione noticed, had turned a deep blood-red as she entered the room, something that a man sitting in the largest chair, facing the fireplace found extremely pleasing as a low chuckle was issued from his mouth, even though Hermione couldn't see the face of the man, she knew who he was.
"Miss Granger." He said softly, still refusing her a glance at his face, "How very nice of you to visit."
"What do you want?" Hermione demanded at once, her Gryffindor bravery shining through.
"All in due time. You will get your answers, that I promise you."
"Master, I bring most important news from our eye." A voice behind Hermione said timidly, when she turned to look at the owner of the voice, she was struck across the face sharply.
"Don't look." The man who hit her ordered sternly.
"Now, now Miss Granger, Curiosity killed the cat." The man in the chair hissed standing and turning towards Hermione, finally allowing her to see his torn face, confirming her suspicions of who he was.
He looked gaunt and pale, as though he had been living on the smallest scraps of food for the past few years, something that Hermione did not understand; he had hundreds of wealthy followers who were willing to risk their lives for him, so why would he look as though he hadn't eaten in an age?
She temporarily put the question to the back of her mind, as she
"What do you want with me?"
"As I have already told you; you will get all of the answers in time." Voldemort said softly, trying to control his temper.
"I want answers now!" Hermione demanded, getting very irritated at her lack of understanding.
"You will get them, when I decide to give them to you, and not before." The man spat, angry at Hermione's outburst. "Take her back to her cell." He ordered turning back to the fire, the flames, still the same red they had turned when Hermione was forced into the room.
The death-eater holding Hermione did as he was ordered and pulled her from the room and back up to the cell in which she was being kept.
"We can be sure of who she is master?" A squat balding man asked as he walked further into the room after Hermione had been removed.
"We already know who she is Wormtail. She is the closest Mudblood to Potter; she is the key to my powers and the defeat of Potter once and for all. We did not need confirmation of that fact."
"Y-Yes my lord. Of course." Wormtail bowed, his rat-like nose almost touching the floor as he did so.
"So? What is this news that you seem so eager to share?" Voldemort asked as he sat back down in the chair he had previously vacated while speaking to Hermione.
"Ah, yes master, our spy brings most important news…"
***
Harry was sitting at his desk, in his small dingy office staring at the evidence and leads scattered over its surface,
He had two options on what he could do;
One, he could charge into every house in Britain, curses flying left, right, and centre, fight his way to Hermione once he did find her, and possibly get himself and everyone else, who insisted on accompanying him killed in the process.
Or two, he could find a definite location of where Hermione was, and think about what they could face in the obvious trap that Voldemort had set up, and go about the rescue strategically, and be prepared for anything that could be thrown at them by the numerous Death-Eaters that would be guarding Hermione and the man that had plagued his life for 20 long years.
Of course, Harry preferred the first option, but he had been out-voted ten-to-one, and so he was sitting at his desk studying useless pieces of paper, while Hermione was being held by Voldemort, going through Merlin knows what, alone and most likely terrified.
Not that she would ever show her fear of course, Hermione was very strong willed, and if she didn't want anyone to know what she was feeling, whether it be happiness or fear, they sure as hell wouldn't be able to tell.
She would be a complete blank on the surface, and, unless you knew her well, as Harry did, you would swear blind that she didn't have any emotions at all.
Harry was sure that she would be staring blankly ahead of her, wherever she was, unspeaking, and unmoving, making the Death-Eaters guarding her wonder what was wrong with her as she simply stared into nothing, while her mind, unbeknown to them, was racing.
She would be planning her escape, forming maps of the place she was being held in, from what she had seen, anything to keep herself positive.
Anything to get her through the hell she was in.
"Harry?" Remus' voice forced it's way into his mind, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Remus. Hi." Harry said much too cheerfully for it to be natural.
"How you doing?"
"Oh, I'm fine." Harry lied, "Just looking over everything we have, for something I can use to give us a definite location."
"How about the Portkey records?" Remus asked producing a long piece of parchment from behind his back, a huge list of Portkeys. "Lucy's just finished them, she said the last six were all possibilities, but we can't be sure about any of them yet."
"That's great!" Harry said enthusiastically, taking the list from Remus and examining it closely. "Thanks a lot."
"Don't thank me, thank Luce."
"I will." He answered stifling a yawn.
"Look, why don't you head home? I'll see what I can do here."
"No, I'm fine, really." Harry insisted, staring at the new information in his hands.
"You know, there was a reason Kingsley gave you the day off. You've been working far too hard over the past few months, you need rest; you're dead on your feet."
"I'll rest when Hermione's back, safe and well. Besides, even if I do go home, you know all I'll be doing is working on this, so why send me home to do exactly what I'm doing now?"
"You working yourself to exhaustion isn't going to get her back any quicker Harry." Remus pointed out diplomatically.
"Yeah, and me wasting time isn't going to get her back either. It's my fault that she has to be put through this, and I'm going to bring her home."
"I have no doubt of that, but please, go home, get some sleep. I promise we won't do anything without you. She wouldn't want you to work yourself to death." Remus added, seeing the look of determination on his face.
"But-"
"You know she'd want you to rest."
Harry, recognising defeat, sighed and nodded slowly, "Fine" He muttered standing up from his chair. "I'll go home, but I'll be back here first thing in the morning, and if anything, and I repeat anything happens, you have to promise me that you'll get me back here."
Remus nodded. "I swear. Now go. Sleep."
"OK, I'm going." Harry gathered his belongings and left his office, and walked down the corridor to step into the lift at the end of the hall.
Just before the doors slid shut Ron squeezed through the small gap.
"Hi." Harry greeted.
"Hey. You headin' home?" Ron asked
"Yeah, I've just had Remus moaning at me to leave."
Harry smiled slightly. "I've had Tonks."
"What are they the dynamic duo?" Harry said laughing lightly
"Who?"
***
Ten minutes later and the two best friends were both seated in their kitchen, steaming mugs of tea in front if them.
They sat in silence, each immersed in thought;
They were both formulating a plan on how to best go about their friends rescue. Both knew apparating to possible locations (Harry had told Ron about the Portkey records) was not an option; Voldemort would be able to track the apparation trails, and so would know if they were there. The surprise factor would be a big part of the rescue; if they appear unexpectedly the Death-Eaters wouldn't be ready for them, so the Aurors and Order Members could take the immediate Death-Eaters out with relative ease.
Once they were there, however, the other Death-Eaters would know, and so would be ready for an attack. Neither Harry nor Ron could think of a watertight plan of how to handle the ready Death-Eaters, apart from firing curses and hex's at them and hoping for the best. Obviously, that idea was about as watertight as they could get. If they went with that plan, they may as well walk straight into wherever Hermione was, without their wands, and jump right into the Death-Eater line of fire.
No, they would have to think about that plan more.
"I think I'm going to call it a night." Ron announced suddenly standing and walking over to the sink on the other side of the kitchen to put his now empty mug down.
"OK, I'm going to stay up for a bit." Harry answered, glancing up at Ron, knowing full well that he would be unable to sleep, even if he tried.
"Alright… try and make sure you get some sleep though, you need it… plus, I promised Tonks I'd make sure you slept, so if you don't she'll hex me into next week."
Harry smiled weakly at Ron's bad attempt at humour, and stared directly into the depths of the mug in front of him, as Ron left the room silently, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.
Only this morning he made Hermione her usual tea to wake her from her slumber, it seemed like a lifetime ago.
He stood and walked numbly to her room, as he did earlier that day. The door was shut tightly, although it wasn't locked. He opened the door quietly as he would in the mornings so as not to startle her, and walked in, shutting himself inside.
He glanced around the room quickly, the paper she had discarded earlier lay innocently on her neatly made bed 'New Minister Of Magic, Announced Today' it read.
Harry sighed, and put the paper next to the mug that held the once warm tea on her bedside table.
His thoughts drifted back to what happened in this exact spot merely hours before; He remembered teasing her about the bad date she had last night, and then suddenly, and inexplicably, becoming very serious.
All he wanted to do was kiss her then. He didn't know why, but at that moment, it was the most important thing to him in the world, like only he and Hermione existed.
There was no prophesy, no Voldemort, no pain.
He found that he'd been feeling that way around her a lot over the past few months. Even being in the same room as her made him forget about all of the worries in his life.
She made him feel… at peace… there was no other way to describe it.
He never dwelled on that thought much; he simply chalked it up to her being one of his best friends, and that she was always there for him. She always made him feel much better if he was upset, even without trying. Sometimes, he would just have to see her, or hear her voice, and he'd feel like he could do anything.
He put that down to her being his best female friend too.
He couldn't possibly have any feelings for her beyond friendship. It was unthinkable. Hermione was his friend, and that's what she had always been. Nothing more and nothing less.
'So why did you want to kiss her so much?' A small voice in his head, that sounded a lot like Hermione asked. 'And why do you want to go on a date with her so much?'
To see why I kissed her. It doesn't mean I have feelings for her beyond friendship.
'You kissed her, how much further beyond friendship do you want to get?'
Plenty of friends kiss.
'Not like that they don't, and they don't think about it all day either'
Yeah, and not many people have conversations with them selves either-
'And that's another thing' the voice interrupted 'if you don't have any feelings beyond friendship for her, why do you have her voice in your head?'
He had to be honest there… the voice did have a point. Even though, he still had a feeling that something wasn't right with the voice in his head. It just didn't sound right. And he'd never had a conversation with it before… the fact that it may be Voldemort planting thoughts in his head did occur briefly to him, before he reminded himself that Occulmency had stopped Voldemort gaining access into his mind, leaving him to wonder why her voice was in his mind.
He'd had it since fifth year at Hogwarts, but he didn't give it much thought, and, once again, he had put it down to her being his friend, and because she always wanted the best for him.
But now, as he sat on her large, comfortable bed surrounded by her positions, her beautiful and calming scent invading his senses, he thought about it for the first time. Maybe her voice was in his head for another reason, but what?
Could it be that, over the past ten years of knowing her, he'd slowly been falling in love with her?
He looked around her room taking in everything he'd somehow missed over the three years that Hermione had been sleeping here.
Dozens of photographs of himself, Ron and Hermione were framed and hung on the walls, and placed carefully on her dresser, the subjects of the photo's all laughing and having fun together.
He remembered when the picture of their graduation was taken; he remembered how alone he felt that day. Sure, his friends surrounded him, but he felt as though it would be the last time he would see them.
Of course, that wasn't true, as Hermione had reminded him, as they both sat, separated from the celebrating crowd, beneath the large tree that they had adopted as 'their' place during their school years.
He remembered how he had confided in her about how much he wished that his parents and Sirius were there, and about how scared he was that Voldemort would attack; with everyone he cared about in one place, it would have been an easy target.
But, once again, Hermione spoke softly, reminding him that with the amount of Order members, Aurors and ministry officials there, Voldemort wouldn't dare an attack; It would have been a suicide mission for whoever came, and although the Death-Eaters would do almost anything for their master, they wouldn't readily, and willingly dive into a proverbial pit of snakes for him.
As usual, Hermione was right, and after speaking to her, he was able to enjoy the rest of the day without worrying too much about an attack.
The 'Golden trio', as they had come to be known as, were standing in the court-yard, where the Graduation party was held, laughing and having a good time together, and Colin Creevy, the impromptu photographer of the day had ordered the three friends to have a picture taken to "remember the event by".
Harry didn't know that she had had it framed. As many times as he'd been in this room, he had never paid much attention to the surroundings, he had always been more interested in the owner of the room when he entered.
He glanced casually at her bedside table where he spotted another framed photo, next to the paper he had put there minutes before.
This picture was of himself and Hermione in France, on their holiday last year, and as Ron wasn't feeling well, presumably because of the 3 ice creams he had consumed in less than one minute, he decided that he would take the photo.
Harry's mind, however, wasn't focused, this time, on when or where the picture was taken, but what he and Hermione seemed to be having a lot of fun doing at the base of the Eiffel Tower.
His eyes were almost popping out of his head as he watched the display.
Wizarding pictures moved to show what the subjects felt at the moment that the picture was taken, but he was pretty sure that he didn't feel like doing what they were doing… consciously anyway.
He watched himself attack Hermione's lips, smothering them with his own, Hermione's hands were raking through his unruly raven hair, while his hands were grabbing and groping; something that Hermione seemed very pleased about as she pulled him as close to her as she could.
Suddenly, both of the subjects disappeared under the frame, which was probably for the best, Harry thought, as he shakily looked away from the picture of the Tower. He certainly didn't expect to see that, but it made his feelings a little clearer.
He found himself wishing that what he had seen in the picture had actually happened between the real pair, and there was only one logical explanation for that; He did see her as more than a friend, but now more questions entered his mind.
Yes, he felt something for her more than friendship, but how much more?
Was it enough to try to pursue a relationship, or was it merely a simple childish crush?
He thought about the last few years of his life; How Hermione was there for him throughout his life since he'd met her, in 1st year at Hogwarts, she had risked everything for him despite the fact that she had barely gotten to know him; 2nd year, even though she was unconscious, he would have never defeated the basilisk without her; 3rd year, without her Sirius would have most likely been administered the Dementor's kiss then and there; 4th year, even when the whole school had turned against him, including Ron, she was there for him, offering him her comfort, and unconditional friendship; 5th year, how he immediately left Buckbeaks room, where he had been hiding for days, when he heard her voice, and how felt when he thought she was dead; 6th year, how he was in the hospital wing by her side for the weeks she was in there, he refused to leave until she could tell him too. He really thought he'd lost her then, she was in a coma because of his stupidity, when he killed Lucius Malfoy after his escape from Azkaban, Hermione had been hit by a simple curse, but the impact of it had thrown her off the roof of the Malfoy Manor. Harry's heart had stopped when he saw her fall, he ran from his duel with Lucius, and almost dived off the roof after her before Ron had stopped him; 7th year, how she stood firmly by his side, even when he had tried to push her, as well as the rest of his friends, away. She refused to let him pull away from her; their graduation, when he was scared about an attack from Voldemort; moving into the flat, both she and Ron were completely supportive of his decision about not living in Grindewald Place.
In fact that everytime he needed someone to talk to, she was there, it was almost as if she had a sixth sense when it came to him, if he needed her, she knew, and she would be there in an instant.
All he ever needed was her presence, and soothing words to make him feel as though he could face the world, and do anything.
He thought about how he was always secretly over-joyed at the fact that the few dates she went on all turned out to be disasters, and how he felt like he was home when he comforted her, holding her close to him, and how lost he felt without her.
He remembered how peaceful and happy he was when he kissed her earlier that day, although the shock of what he had done had taken over his thoughts immediately after.
As he thought more and more about it, he realised that as he was kissing her, it felt as though he was where he was meant to be for the rest of his life; In her arms, kissing her softly.
It was then, that he realised that what he felt for her wasn't just a silly crush it was more. Much more.
He was in love with her.
Harry didn't have much time to consider the impact of his realisation however, as he heard Ron call his name urgently.
The door burst open, and his redheaded friend stood framed in the doorway.
"Harry, we have to go. Something's happened."
~*~*~*~*
Well, there you have it, Chapter 3.
What do you think?
Please remember to review!
Thanks.
~Just Breathing