Chapter 12: The Tenth Hour
Author's Note: the title of this chapter bears into certain amount of metaphor, those being that numbers being important. The number thirteen is a number of rejuvenation, rebirth. Eleven is a number of judgment, twelve of destruction. Six of the devil. Most of these are archetypal and date back to the bible. Seven is a significant number as well. Just take that into mind. Besides, I like using time as a metaphor.
The section where Harry goes to the Blessed Fields is actually from The Book of Exalted Deeds by Wizards of the Coast.
hijlpotter: Roland's story is told behind Harry's for everything revolves around him. In his chapter we will see a small glimpse into the man we call Roland Demoas.
No88Zero: The next chapter it will fully be revealed, but I do have a hint, it is similar to his father's.
* * * * * *
They talked for about an hour before Hermione yawned. She had broken up with Ron earlier that day, which was part of the reason why she was avoiding Harry. But she seemed to want to keep their own relationship a secret until Ron could accept it with out getting too mad. She didn't want do it that way, but felt that Ron needed time to recover from their relationship. However, she also wanted to be with Harry as soon as possible.
He made her complete. With Ron, half the time was awkwardness, neither knowing what to do. With Harry, despite his own inexperience, he loved her. That was more than what could be said with Ron. At first, Hermione thought that it was just a phase that Ron was going through, bossing her around, and grabbing her arm so tightly. But after the third time it happened, she knew that their relationship wouldn't last. Something had made her give in, allowing him to order her. Her pride was gone, as was her own will. That was, until Harry began to talk to her.
The night before was something special for her. It was when Harry pulled her into his lap that she realized there was something different about their relationship. She began to see him in a whole new light. Even before then, she thought that there was something going on. But his confession made her want to make one of her own. Hermione had been seeing Harry no longer as the little lost boy she met on the train. Nor was he The Boy Who Lived, who Ron constantly felt that he had to live up to.
No, to her, Harry was `just Harry', a boy who had finally began to grow into his body. He was still skinny, but holding him like she did the night before showed him that he had many muscles. But his heart held so much more that she thought his body would contain. It was there that Hermione found strength, and there she found love. She held him close during that hour they talked, and listened to his heartbeat. He was strong and so was it, beating steadily for her. Harry was never the best at words, but his simple complements were what touched her the most.
She was now up in her room, sitting against the wall with her legs pulled close to her. Hermione didn't know how long, but she was writing in her journal. It had been so long since she had written in it. It was just after she had gotten out of the hospital actually. Her thoughts were too confused for her to write anything of importance and even though there was this small scrawl about her going out of Ron, it had been nothing like this. She had already filled two pages and was in the middle of her third. There was just so much that she wanted to talk about, wanted to let herself know. While there may have been doubts in her mind about their relationship later on in life, Harry had no doubts about it now, she thought. He's in love with me and that's all that matters.
A door was slammed shut down stairs, and Hermione looked up from her journal. She knew it was Roland, as a thief wouldn't be stupid enough to slam a door if he was coming into the house. No, she figured he had a bad day. Moving silently, she got out of her bed to go talk with him. Hermione wanted to ask him about something. He had always been there for her, and now, she thought he might need to be there for him.
She grabbed her robe before silently moving through the halls down the stairs. When she was younger, she used to sneak
down to find her books that she would leave when she had to go to sleep. Hermione knew the hallways like the back of
her hand. She heard a table wobble as her right knee hit it. "Ow," almost escaped from her lips, but she kept
them closed.
"Hermione?" a church whisper came from downstairs. It sounded like Roland's voice. Quickly, some one crossed the floor to the bottom of the stairs. "What you doing up?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing," she said, coming down. "But I know you were working." Hermione stopped a few steps up, so she could look into Roland's eyes. "Harry told me what you said."
"At which point," he asked, and turned away.
"About why you're here." Crossing her arms, Hermione glared at him. To think that coming here was just an escape. He probably didn't even care about them, no; he just needed to get away. She wasn't surprised that he didn't answer. "Is it true you left just to find yourself?"
"No, I left so she could find herself," Roland said, looking back at her. Even in the dim light, Hermione could see the pain on his face. "I left so she wouldn't depend on me so much. I left because she needed to take care of herself. I left…" he trailed off, but Hermione figured out the rest.
"What happened? Harry spoke of how you told him we sometimes have to hurt ourselves to help the ones we love-"
"And never hurt the ones we love in order to save them," He added. "Something like that." Roland turned away and walking into the kitchen.
"You should talk about it," Hermione said.
"I don't want to," Roland quickly replied. He was no longer taking effort to keep his voice down. "It's just something are better left silent."
"You said it yourself," Hermione followed him in, "that what hurts the heart the most should be discussed. Now talk." She crossed her arms again, making a stand within the kitchen.
"With all the advances as a society, both Muggle and Wizard, you'd think we'd get past petty things like prejudice," Roland took a seat at the table, then kicked a chair away slightly for Hermione. "Possibly a woman's greatest fear is getting rape." Hermione gasped. "It is the worst crime known to man, as anyone can commit it, for it destroys the soul."
"A woman can't commit rape," Hermione quickly added, but looked down.
"Sadomy can be rape, Date Rape can be committed by a female," Roland looked across the table. "Need I go on?" she shook her head. "Good." He pulled a bag out from his coat, along with a small glass. Immediately he poured himself a drink and then downed it. Harry told her how Roland was drinking a lot, she almost told him that her parents didn't allow alcohol in the house, but stopped. He must be pretty upset about something to resort to drinking.
"Rape is rape, no matter what gender, age, whatever. That is what I support a clinic just for that. Where woman and men could go to talk to about it."
"That's not what's bothering you," Hermione replied.
"No, it's not." Roland cousin pour himself another drink but didn't move it. Instead he just stared at it. "I take it you've never known someone whose been raped." She gasped and shook her head. "She was raped for six months. And I was helpless to stop it, even with all my power." Roland stared at the glass, spinning it within his hand. "There are Demons out there, Hermione, and I'm not talking about those who come from the Seven Hells. No, the Demons I'm talking about are willing to torture an eighteen-year-old girl's soul to near destruction, and well as her body. These Demons are willing to take little children and kill their future. These Demons are the worst I know, they're Humans." The shot glass shattered as Roland squeezed it.
"These are the people I fight every night. My brethren may go against The Morning Star's spawn but I feel that this is the worst of the two. Those who willingly commit these acts against its own race. These creatures aren't worthy of their lives that The Great Spirit has blessed them with." Roland shook his hand, trying to get the liquid off of it. He didn't say anything, instead just stared forward.
For a while, Hermione didn't say anything, in fear of what Roland would say back. Instead, she thought of what he said. He talked as if demons truly existed, and not just the ones hated the most. No, real live Spawn of Satan. That was impossible, demons were a myth, like their counterpart. But Hermione's thoughts were interrupted. "She had the most beautiful wings I've ever seen," Roland said out of nowhere. He was staring at another shot glass, or his old one, just reformed. He seemed lost and vacant as he reminisced. There was this empty smile, just hanging there as he thought of this girl. "We'd used to joke about how much time she took to keep them so clean and perfect. About how much love went into them. And it seems in six months just destroy that perfect, that beauty.
"I found her, in the dark," he sniffled, and wiped a tear from his eye. "And she was alone, huddled in the corner. Her entire being cried out `no' for the light meant the men had returned, but once I stepped into the darkness, she knew. And that's when I knew. I knew everything that those cursed beasts did to her." he growled, and broke his glass again. "Her wings were gone, nothing but stubs left. They left them there, just to torture her some more." Another glass broke somewhere, and Hermione jumped. There was something odd about her cousin, something that had changed in the past few minutes. His skin seemed to meld with the darkness, and it looked like there were two little horns growing on his forehead. Roland glasses had fallen off his face, and Hermione saw possible the scariest thing in the world: two glowing red orbs in pools of darkness. "I took pleasure in their screams, just to know that I could cause just as much pain as they did to her."
"R-R-Roland," she stammered, scared out of her mind, she'd never seen this side of her cousin. She felt this aura around him, something like when they'd face the Death Eaters. "D-did you rape…" Hermione trailed off, unable to continue. She couldn't think of the answer, didn't want to think that he was willing to stoop to something he considered so low.
"No, but they burned," he grinned a toothy grin. A pointy, toothy grin. "They burned good."
* * * * * *
Hermione woke with a start. She had the most horrible dream. This demon-like creature was sitting at a grill, burning two men alive. And of some girl, screaming as her wings were cut off from her with a dull blade. Hermione had no idea where that came from, especially after the wonderful night she had had with Harry. A smile crept upon her face as she thought of him. Being around Ron now that they broke it off was going to be tough, but to not be with Harry would be impossible.
Quickly getting out of her bed, Hermione stepped on her journal. Funny, she thought she forgot that she even touched it lately. It had been a while since she had written anything in it. Hermione opened it, and remembered that she did touch it, writing a lengthy entry on the night before. Her smile grew larger and she blushed as she remembered when he kissed her. An alarm went off, reminding her to get up. She hit the off button, but sat back down, holding the journal close. Hermione wanted that memory of her first good kiss to stay in her mind forever. She closed her eyes and remembered the night before. The memory just played over and over again in her mind, and she hated whoever knocked at her door, especially at this time. Roland would know better, and Ron wouldn't even be up yet.
Grabbing a robe, she quickly placed it before opening the door with a scowl. It quickly disappeared when she saw that it was Harry. Rather, a smile took its place. She immediately jumped into his arms, and hugged him. Hermione wanted to do more, but didn't want to rush Harry or this relationship. More importantly, thought, Hermione didn't want to rush herself. Harry and her relationship with him were too important to her. And as much as she wanted to be with him, she wanted to take it slow, so that Harry wouldn't think he was a rebound, which he wasn't.
"Hello, beautiful," he said into her hair. Hermione pulled them into her room, and closed the door. Harry didn't move from his position at all, he just stood there, holding her and petting her hair. Hermione felt like she was going to melt from his touch. She had never felt this way before, unless she counted when her feelings for Harry developed in her fourth year.
It was after their adventure with Buckbeak that Hermione thought she might have felt something for Harry. She simple took it as a teenage crush, but somewhere along the year she felt it change into something more. Unable to place a name on it, Hermione just pushed it aside. But at the second challenge, she was hurt when she wasn't chosen for him and Ron was. It was then she realized that the feelings were something more. She immediately rushed to his side, forgetting about Ron. Her feelings for Harry were just developing.
When Hermione got her prefect badge, she was so excited. It only seemed right that Harry would become a prefect as well. But her heart sunk when she found out that Ron made it instead of Harry. She had figured he had had a crush on her for a long time. And although Hermione didn't see herself with Ron at that time, Harry seemed distracted at the time. This distraction only grew in the year, as he was often off with Snape working on Occulmency while she was with Ron doing prefect work. This distance only grew as Harry pushed them away. And as much as she wanted to be with him, from his actions, Hermione felt that he didn't want to be with her. So she turned to Ron.
Hermione knew that it was just a crush, but hoped that she would grow into being in love with Ron. Somehow that never happened. Even when he asked her out and they dated for basically a month, she never loved him. To her, Ron would always be her older brother. But those feelings for Harry never disappeared and when he returned them, her heart almost fluttered through her throat. Hermione pulled away from Harry and smiled, looking into his emerald eyes. "What you thinking about?" he asked, looking at her.
"Us," she replied, and smiled, "and how we got here." Harry reached down and kissed her softly on her lips. She nearly melted against him, and apparently Harry felt it. His hands held her waist closer to him, allowing her to rest against him.
"I was thinking about that too," he returned the smile. "Do you think-"
Hermione placed a finger on his lips. "I know what you are going to say, and no, I've never doubt that I would be with you." She cocked her head a bit and searched his eyes for answer. "How bout you?"
"Tell you the truth," Harry replied, "I didn't see us together like this until this summer." There was something about the way he worded it that made her feel sad and joyful at the same time. "But now, you take up most of my thoughts." This brought a smile back to her face. He may have not thought about being with her before, but now he didn't want to part. She wanted to stay in his arms and just be with him forever.
Hermione was surprised to find herself losing all of her logic and intelligence when she was with Harry. She always prided herself on being smart and responsible. Now, her deprived little thoughts were going to drive her crazy. Hermione leaned on his chest, and smile at some little daydreams she had forgotten a long time ago. "Hermione?" he asked.
"Hmm?" she responded, but didn't move.
"We're going out, you need to get dressed." She pulled away. They were going out.
"Harry, there's no store open at six," she replied, looking at his eyes.
"You over slept," he smiled at her, and was surprised to see her eyes widen. "It's nine, didn't you know?" Hermione rushed over to her clock. It read nine, but that was impossible, Hermione always had her clock set for six.
"That's odd," she said, taking a seat on her bed. Her eyes didn't move from the alarm clock. "I didn't-"
"Everything okay?" Harry asked. He was about to crouch down, but stopped and stood straight up, blushing. Hermione was confused, but then realized that her robe had opened, showing a bit of herself. She quickly pulled her robe tightly around her body, her face reddening at the thought of Harry seeing her exposed.
"Sorry," she looked away. Even as comfortable as she was with Harry, she just unable to give herself fully to any man yet. Someday, though, she knew she was going to be ready and hoped that it was with Harry. "And no, I'm fine," She stood and gave Harry a quick chaste kiss, "now go so I can get showered and dressed." Harry smirked at her, and hugged her one more time before leaving her. Like the gentleman he was, he closed the door behind him.
Hermione sighed, and walked over to her dresser and grabbed clothing for the day. She felt that she was on top of the world, and nothing could go wrong.
* * * * * *
Mr. and Mrs. Granger were taking Harry, Hermione and Ron out shopping. It was Hermione who suggested it, as they needed to pick up some things for Harry's Birthday. He had forgotten that it was coming up, too engross with what was going on in his life. Ron seemed too calm, especially after breaking up with Hermione. He had this smile upon his face that seemed fake to Harry. There was just something wrong about the way his friend was acting.
But Harry put that thought aside when they arrived at the mall. He had only seen a place like this when he went shopping with Roland, but this some how seemed better. Harry couldn't put his finger on it, but deep down, this was certainly better. A simple glance over at a smiling Hermione told him why. There was nothing that could go wrong.
* * * * * *
Everything was going wrong, Hermione thought. Her father offered to take Harry around, so that they could figure out what to get him. her mother decided to stay with Ron and Hermione, who thankfully helped with some of the awkward silence. Ron glared at her from time to time, but he held this smile upon his face that Hermione was sure was real. Clearly, God couldn't be nice to her for one day though.
Her mum had to go, saying that she needed to get the house ready for the party tomorrow. I hope you two can take care of yourselves? Her mother asked. And of course, Ron replied for them, saying everything was all right. They had paid for Harry's gifts, curtsy of Roland and his charge card. Her mother took them home with her, leaving Hermione and Ron alone. And apparently, Ron felt that gave him control over her life again. He pulled her every which way, directing where they were going. He even told her that she couldn't spend any of the money, despite him buying himself some new cloths. She almost told him off, but something held her back. There was this nagging presence that prevented her from doing anything she wanted to do in his presence. And the most she was there, the more Hermione felt that maybe she made the wrong choice.
No, you didn't, she constantly reminded herself. You and Harry will be perfect. Hermione told herself over and over again, trying to keep that in mind. She didn't look at Ron's eyes any more; trying to prevent whatever hold he had on her from taking over again. He made her feel like less of a person, as if she wasn't good enough for any body. It was the strangest feeling, and Hermione figured that she was just hearing things.
After an hour passed by, they ran into Roland and Harry. The two of them were talking about something serious, by the look on Roland's face. There was usually a smile on it, but today it held sadness. Hermione could have sworn that she had seen that look before. But those strange feelings she had when she was with Ron disappeared the moment she saw Harry's eyes. They looked at her and only her. And it made Hermione's heart flutter even more than just seeing him.
"Hey, Ron, Hermione," Roland said, he was holding a few bags, and using a cane on the other. "Come on, Aunt Mary asked us to be back before ten."
"What time is it?" Ron asked. He reached over for Hermione hand, but remembered that he wasn't dating her. He withdrew it slowly, as if he was mad at something. Hermione looked at him as he glared at Harry. Maybe he knows, she asked herself. How could that happen? She and Harry just got together the night before.
"Almost nine or so," Harry replied. "Shouldn't take more than an hour, right?" he looked at Roland who nodded. He seemed concerned.
"I've parked this way," Roland pointed behind them, "So come on." Harry waited for Hermione. Ron pushed past him, practically shoving Harry's shoulder.
"What's that about?" Harry asked softly, as he watched Ron walk away.
Hermione shrugged. There was no way that he could have known. She wasn't even sure that she had a chance with Harry so how could Ron know. She started to walk forward, but paused. "Wait, isn't Roland blind?"
Harry chuckled and grabbed her hand, pulling her along. He didn't want to fall behind, but also wanted to be closer to her. "Hermione, all the time he's been at your house, have you ever seen him run into anything?" He asked. She shook her head. "He's a mutant, remember?"
That made her pause a gain. Her cousin was a mutant. Hermione never even thought of that possibility. It just didn't seem rational, but then, thinking back, Hermione saw little signs that made it obvious, the biggest being his association of the X-men. Her entire belief of mutants was destroyed. "You didn't know?" Harry asked. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"It's okay," Hermione said; they started walking again. Roland and Ron seemed farther ahead then before. "It's not you are a mutant." This time Harry stopped. "Harry, what's wrong?"
"I think I might be," he said softly, not looking at her. This blew away all her preconceptions about mutants, now that she was in love with one. Looking back, she realized how she was being a bigot. And that brought tears to her eyes. She was acting just like Malfoy, making herself feel bigger than everyone else by insulting them. Hermione was no better than him. "Mione," Harry said, wrapping her in his arms. Here she was, crying in the middle of the mall. She felt like such a child. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry," she replied, wiping some of her tears. Her makeup was running a bit; no one could have told if they weren't close up those, save Harry, who noticed everything about her. "I was being stupid."
"I doubt you could ever be stupid," he said with a laugh. His complete and utter faith in her made her cry even more. How could even hate someone as great as Harry? "Hermione, please tell me what's wrong? Was it something I said?" She nodded, but held onto Harry tighter. He held her close, but didn't say anything for a while. "Are you upset because I might be a mutant?" she shook her head, but pulled away slightly.
"Hey, what's the hold up," Ron yelled to them. They were only a few yards away, but the mall was loud and crowded, even at this hour. " Turn off the water works and let's go." Roland smacked him upside the head. But neither Harry, nor Hermione noticed.
"I was listening to the radio one day, and they had some thing about mutants. And I of course, open my big mouth and say something racist." She sniffled at the thought, pulling away, just enough to wipe a tear away. "I feel so bad, looking back, I was acting like Malfoy, making myself bigger by putting someone down." Harry looked into her eyes.
"Hermione," he said softly, wiping some of her tears away. "You have the biggest heart I know, never think you are like Malfoy." Hermione tried to say something, but Harry placed a finger over her lips. "Never." She smiled shyly, and Harry gladly returned.
"Thanks," Hermione said softly. She could've stayed there for the rest of her life. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Time for that later," Roland, said. "We need to get going now." He empathized `now,' giving Harry a look. Her best friend nodded, before pulled away from Hermione. Harry immediately picked up her hand as they walked toward Ron. He glared at them before turning around and walking away. "He just needs time."
"He knows?" Harry asked.
"Of course he knows; he isn't blind. And I told him," Roland said, they both made to stop. "You can talk and walk at the same time, can't you?" he pulled them along. "He has a right to know why Hermione broke up with him."
"How do you know?" Hermione asked.
"Come on," Roland said, "I've known since I first saw you two together that you were meant to be. And I talked with Harry about it." Hermione glared at Harry, and again, Roland prevented them from stopping. "Didn't I say we have to go? Don't make me apparate all of us out of here."
Until they left the mall, no one said anything. Roland was probably thinking about something. Ron glared at Harry and Hermione; probably mad at them wanting to go out. But the couple was lost in their comfortable silence, not needing to say anything to express their love for each other. They stood in peace, waiting for Roland to pull up. It was Ron who broke the silence. "When were you going to tell me?" He asked.
"When we felt you were ready?" Harry replied. He noticed the fire burning in his friend's eyes. Hermione took a step behind him.
"So you were just going to kept it from me?" Ron continued.
"We were afraid this was how you were going to act," Harry said. "Something like this." He held an arm out, symbolizing their actions now. "We also wanted you to be over Hermione."
"So, you just had to steal her from me?" Ron asked. His brown eyes burned with hatred. Harry didn't answer the question as Roland pulled up. Ron got into the front seat; Hermione squeezed Harry's hand before climbing over in the back. He just knew it was going to be a long ride.
Time passed slowly as they rode back to the Grangers. Harry held Hermione's hand the entire time. At some point, though, she grew tired and moved over next to him. Her head was lying upon his shoulder, his arm around her, and neither with a care in the world. Harry knew that Ron was talking with Roland about something, they talked of an amulet that Ron had but he didn't catch the rest. Some relaxing Celtic music was playing in the background as Harry fell into a sleep.
* * * * * *
When Harry opened his eyes, he found himself in a luscious field that covered the land as far as the eye could see. The sun burned in the sky above them, and Harry could smell the plant life around him. The flowers were unearthly and heavenly, adding more to this picturesque scene. It was home. A bear-sized dog came running up to him, and tackled Harry. If it was black, Harry could've sworn that it was Sirius.
The dog ran off, leaving Harry alone in the field. The sky was clear, holding little clouds save wisps high up in the atmosphere. Nothing could touch him, Harry felt. It was perfect, the way he dreamed heaven… would be…
He didn't just die, did he? No, he couldn't have. Voldemort wasn't near by, and he could only die by the Dark Lord's hand. "So where am I," he asked to no one.
"Oh," a large voice said, "we have a new comer." Harry turned around to see a large lion-like creature. It was walking up on two legs, and was wearing this regal looking robe. The beast was at least as tall as Hagrid, maybe taller. At the moment, it was crouching down, tending to some of the flowers. The voice held some masculine qualities, and Harry could only assume that the creature was male as well. His mane was pulled back in a ponytail. "And what is your name?"
"Harry," he replied without hesitation. Harry felt that he had nothing to fear from this man. "Are you going to answer my question?"
The lion smile, if that was possible. He stood and walked over to Harry. "This place has held many names, but the most common being the Blessed Fields." So Harry really did die. "And you no, you aren't dead. In fact, just look at yourself and you'll see." Harry looked down, and it was obvious to him. He was transparent. The lion laughed at Harry as he jumped back at the sight of himself. "Come, there is much we must talk about." The beast placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, guiding him along. "My name is Talisad, and I am the leader of the Companions. Upon this plane and four others, we guard it and its inhabitants against poachers, blighters of the lands, and the like. This is a haven for those who admire nature, those of pure of heart, those who carry love in it."
"Roland mentioned this place once," Harry remembered.
"One of our dearest pupils," Talisad said. "Though I fear his methods will consume him." The lion
held a sad look upon its face, if that was possible. "his blood burns with his father's crimes, Harry. And for
that, I fear he will suffer."
"Is he important to the world," Harry asked. It was interesting not to be the center point of everything for once.
"Not as important as you will be," he replied, smiling at Harry. Of course, that happy moment had to end so soon. "no, his time will come, and yours shall begin." Talisad paused and looked down. "And of course you'll have your beloved by your side." His smile grew bigger.
"Hermione?" Harry asked, and a smile grew upon his own face as the lion nodded.
"The Heavens and the Court of Stars rarely agree on anything, but they do on that." The beast continued walking, leading Harry to some other field. "But I did not bring you here so we can talk of your love life. No, there are other matters that must take precedence."
"What's going on?" Harry asked.
"When your mother died, this is the place she chose to come," Talisad began. "She enjoyed her garden as well as the air and we, along with the Heavens and the Court, felt that this is where she belonged." Harry didn't know his mother could fly, but the fact that Talisad didn't speak of his father made him worry. James Potter may have done some bad things, but wasn't a bad person, so to speak.
"What of my father?" Harry asked. His voice shook a bit, the fear for his father evident.
"He's alive and well, Harry." When Talisad said this, Harry stopped. His father was alive? But he was hit by the killing curse.
"Do you know where he is?" Harry asked.
"Sadly, we can not directly interfere with humans' lives," Talisad replied. "This will all be a
dream til the time is right." There was such a regal air about him that prevented Harry from arguing. "Do you
understand?" He nodded. "Shh, watch. This here is the beautiful of the Blessed Fields."
They paused just a few meters from the field, giving them perfect sight of it. Harry watched as the flowers swayed with the wind. For a moment, they looked real as they moved. But a petal moved by itself, against the wind. Harry watched as it did it again, and suddenly the entire field was in the air. "Butterflies," Harry said, smiling. He had never seen such a sight before. The beautiful insects flew toward Harry and Talisad, forming a circle around them. Just to see nature in such rawness made Harry's heart flew. The way the butterflies flew around him made Harry remember his first yes and the flying keys. Though an unpleasant memory, he was proud he was able to save his friend. Moments like these made Harry wish that he could flew with the insects,
Slowly, the butterflies flew away, leaving Harry and Talisad alone again. Harry felt comfortable with the beast. This was a form of heaven he gathered, and here he was safe, even for a moment. "It is moments like that that make the world worth it," Talisad said, "Don't you agree, Harry?"
"When I was a school, I used to enjoy flying. I felt so free and away from the world." The lion laughed from his stomach, it sounded like Hagrid's laugh. "I used to wish I could do it any time I wanted."
"You sound like Saphia," Talisaod replied. "She loves to fly too. I see where you get it from. Your mother enjoyed the skies as much as she enjoyed the gardens she planted. This was one of them in fact." Harry looked down, and thought of his mother and father. He never knew his mother, but his father was still alive, meaning that he could get to know his father.
"Why did you bring me here," Harry asked. As much as he enjoyed being with Talisad and in the Blessed Fields, he wanted to get back to Hermione and the real World.
"She asked that when it was time for her leave, you would receive a present from us Companions. We, of course, agreed without a second thought, for we had come to love her dear, and that brings us to today. You will receive a total of five gifts, one from each of us. Harry nodded, unsure of what to say. "You have already been given the four other gifts; mine was meant for last. Rhanok has give you a strong sense of pride and honor, something he has cherished the most. Kharash, my dearest friend, has given you a soul mate." When the lion said this, Harry felt his heart fly and fall at the same time. He had a soul mate, but if it wasn't Hermione… "Bharrai has blessed your equal to be intelligent and wise. After all, power needs guidance, and she will guide you. Saphia has given you a strong sense of flight, like your mother and father's, despite your earth element."
"I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but what of yours, Talisad?" Harry asked. "You said there were five."
Talisad smiled. "Today, I give my gift to you." He placed a paw over Harry's heart. "You are strong, my friend, but you need to be stronger to protect those around you. Let my strength give you courage to fight for them." Harry gasped as he felt the power from Talisad go into his body. His eyes fluttered for a moment before he passed out.
* * * * * *
Harry awake with a gasp, grabbing his heart, just to hear Hermione scream. He looked around and saw Ron was trying to steer the car from the passenger's seat, while Hermione was trying to keep Roland from leaning forward. Ron pulled the steering wheel to the left, barely missing a car. "Bloody hell," Ron said, climbing over Roland. Hermione was pulling him back into the back seat. "What's his problem?"
"I don't know," Hermione said. "He just grabbed his head as if he was in pain or something." She glared at Ron. "you saw it. Why you asking? And watch you language, Ron Weasley."
"Yes, mum," Ron smirked, but get in the drive's seat. Hermione was able to get Roland out of the front seat entirely. He was no laying on the floor, with his head in her lap.
"Wake up, Rollie," she whispered. Harry reached out and touched her hand. Hermione looked up and smiled at her best friend.
"Everything will be alright, Mione," he replied. Despite the tears in her eyes from seeing her cousin fall apart like that, they held hope and strength. "He's strong."
"Damn straight I'm strong," Roland coughed, a bit of blood pour from his month. His voice was hoarse and weak. "I wouldn't have lived this long if I wasn't." He tried to sit up, but the position he was in made it difficult. "Ron, drive as fast as you can to the Grangers. Don't stop for nothing, got that. Nothing." Despite being weak, there was strength within the last words.
"Roland is something wrong?" Hermione asked. "Roland? Roland, please tell me." Tears began to form in her eyes, and Harry wished he knew that something was wrong. His body felt cold from something, as if a ghost walked over his grave.
"Ron," who looked back, "Just drive, don't look back." Roland crawled over the sits, getting in the passenger's. He was still coughing, and had to wipe blood from his mouth a few times. He wouldn't answer Hermione's questions, whose tears now flowed down her cheeks. Harry reached across and pulled her into his arms. He was trying to calm her, but alas; he was able to do nothing save hold her.
Ron slowed down as they reached the Granger's residence. Roland immediately got out the car only to fall a few from the curb. He was holding his sides, groaning in pain. Hermione opened the door, and followed, rushing to his side. Harry got out only to pause at the sidewalk. Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong. Every fiber in his being ached with this feeling, he felt like he was going explode from it. And when he saw Mrs. Granger come running out of the house, her dress torn and eyes filled with fear, the explosion came.
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