Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 4: Headaches

Author's Note: Okay, just a few notes

Coolone007: that wasn't James…

Izzieq: Pride giveth and pride taketh away. You'll see a change in her later. Just give it time.

Again, thank you to Audrey and the Twisted Angel. JK Rowlings owns Harry Potter, Marvel Comics owns X-men and Doctor Strange. I happen to own Roland and the plot.

* * * * * *

Hermione woke up the next day with a dull headache. It was right about her right eye, and just ached. She got up and quickly placed her robe on, before heading to the bathroom. And as far as she could tell, there was nothing wrong about her, besides looking a bit disheveled from waking up. There were small circles under her eyes from all-nighters, studying for the O.W.L.S. or some other test, but they were barely noticeable. The cinnamon eyes stared at her. She wasn't beautiful, Hermione knew that, but when Ron said she was… oh, it brightened up her spirits. It had taken five years but he had finally noticed her as a girl. Hermione certainly smiled more often.

But there were times when he could have cared less about it, when they fell back into their old routine. Just before she left yesterday, they got into a big fight, over the fact that she had to go. It was ridiculous. Ron wasn't even around the entire day, and yelled at Hermione for leaving when she had to. God, that boy made her so mad sometimes. Now, Harry, on the other hand. Hermione doubted that there was a time when she was actually mad at him. True, they argued sometimes and stopped speaking for a while, but she was never truly mad at him. Upset and disappointed at times, but never mad.

Hermione finally decided that it was time for her to get ready for the day. Taking a quick look outside the bathroom, Hermione ran back to her room, grabbed some clothes to change into after her shower and ran back to the bathroom. Although she was wearing a robe, Hermione was never one for people seeing in her pajamas, even her parents. That one day when she knew that it was just her and Roland didn't seem to bother her too much though, for some reason. It was as if she was just more comfortable with him, not like she was with Harry. It was almost a safe feeling; that Roland wouldn't judge her.

The shower went quickly, and Hermione put on what little make-up she had and knew how to use. Her mother finally decided to buy her some and teach her how to use it. Hermione decided that it was certainly worth it as Ron complemented her on her new appearance. She blushed at that thought. I wonder what he would say about me. Hermione spun in front of the mirror. She wore a basic blouse, and blue jeans, nothing special. But she felt different. Again, she thought of Harry and his opinion. "I wonder what Harry would say about me?" she asked herself.

"He'd say you were a scarlet woman who took too long in the bathroom," Roland's voice came through the door, and Hermione blushed even redder. "Now get out of there if you are done, so I can use it for the day."

"Okay, just give me a few more minutes," she replied, and heard Roland's breath of exasperation.

"Fine, just hurry up." Roland's footsteps marked him walking away from the bathroom. "You have five minutes." Hermione giggled before rushing to get her make-up put away under the counter. She quickly picked up her clothes, towel and robe when she heard Roland counting. "Five…Four…Three…Two…" Hermione opened the door and smiled at Roland.

"All yours," Roland smirked and Hermione stuck out her tongue. He was wearing just a pair of black workout pants. As he entered, Roland messed up her bushy head of hair, and walked inside. Hermione scowled at him as he closed the door. "You're welcome."

"And you're not," Roland replied. Hermione laughed as she went to put her pajamas back in her room. Her cousin was so laid back, even more then Ron and Harry. He just flowed with the times, but there was so much that she wanted to know, like why was so he old and still learning to be wizard; what was his life like after the crash that killed his parents? Roland was an enigma to her, and that, Hermione didn't like. No, she didn't like that at all, and there was nothing that a book would tell her about it.

Hermione didn't even hear the shower turn on, but she did notice when it was shut off. She looked over at her clock, and noticed that Roland had been in the bathroom for twenty minutes. That meant that she was sitting there wasting the day. Quickly Hermione grabbed one of the books that Roland had allowed her read and rushed downstairs. As she ran, she heard Roland yell through the bathroom door, "don't eat anything, I'm making breakfast." Hermione sighed; she was hungry, but decided to wait for whatever Roland was going to cook. From the lunches that he had made for her, Hermione knew that he was a halfway decent cook.

Sitting down on her favorite chair, Hermione opened up the book and began to read. It discussed the Elements and their obvious effects on life. Of the most common elements, Earth and Air have almost been known to wed and become one. Their chemistry together is often seen as soul mates. Though they can marry outside of this combination, it is rare for that to happen. Earth and Air find that having that distinction of their elements makes the worlds a difference. Pausing just for a moment, Hermione wondered what element she was. Yesterday, she briefly skimmed the book on Elements, but found this one to be more interesting. Now, she might actually have to fully read the other one. It was just that the text was so long and dull, and took forever to get to the point. Not knowing her element was beginning to annoy her, especially when there seemed to be a lot related to them.

Broken footsteps came down the stairs, and Hermione knew that Roland was having an off day with his knee. He was limping already and it wasn't even ten. "Bad day?" she asked without looking up from her book.

"All that walking took a lot out of me," he said walking up behind Hermione. "Whatcha reading?"

"One of your stupid books," she replied, and looked up at Roland glaring at her. Hermione returned the glare before smiling, and sticking out her tongue at him. Roland laughed and messed up her hair some more. "Don't do that, okay?" he was wearing his normal black outfit.

"You're never going to get it to do anything, you know that," Roland walked into the kitchen. "You inherited the Granger's Curse."

"And what is that?" Hermione twisted around to glare at her cousin

"All the Granger women have extremely wild hair, whether it is bushy, curly or just won't cooperate, it's just that way. My mom explained it too me," Roland had disappeared into the kitchen. "I found it rather funny."

"I remember my mum explaining something like that," Hermione replied, "but she didn't' call it the Granger's Curse." She looked back at the book.

"I'm making French toast for breakfast," Roland yelled from the kitchen. "Along with bacon and some fruit." Hermione ignored him for the moment and continued to read. This bond has enabled the Earth and Air elements to have extraordinary abilities comparable only to the Shadow element. Each can use the abilities of their mate as if they were their own. For example, an Earth element cannot fly, no matter how hard they try. But if they are in love with an Air element, consciously or sub-consciously, then they could fly as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Another example is that Air elements are often frightened easily and fall to others without a second thought. However, if they have found their mate, whether they know it or not, then they are the most stubborn person you would know. That was certainly odd. The way Hermione understood it; the Earth or Air elements didn't even have to know that they were in love in order for the abilities to take affect.

"Well, I really need to read that other book," Hermione finally decided. Now she was really curious about what Element she was. A bell came from no where, and Hermione looked around. Where did that sound come from? She looked over at the kitchen table and saw that it was set. Roland had finished cooking and set an elegant breakfast table. Her jaw dropped at the sight of it. A beautiful flower arrangement was the center piece. There were two champagne glasses, filled with orange juice. And the smell, oh, Hermione nearly died when she caught the smell.

"Well, come in and eat," Roland said. He was placing a final plate of something on the table and then sat down in one of the chairs. "The food isn't getting any better, Hermione." She immediately got out of her chair and rushed over to the table, book in hand. Hermione paused at the slight of the food. Fresh fruit was cut and placed in little decorative bowls in front of the two plates that held little origami doves made out of their napkins. The French toast was stacked in alternating patterns on another plate, with a little gravy bowl for the maple syrup. The fact that he had accomplished the breakfast so quickly was amazing. She took her seat and grabbed a few of the French toast. "Hey, leave some for the rest of me."

Hermione didn't even notice the fact that she took about five pieces of the toast. But when she looked over at Roland's plate, she noticed that it was already covered in syrup and he was shoving a final piece of what looked like three pieces into his mouth. "And I thought Ron was the human disposable." Roland looked up with a confused look on his face and Hermione just laughed.

"I don't commit gluttony, Hermione," Roland said, "I use the food." He grabbed three more and began to skillfully cut them.

"Sure," she replied, and got back to eating her own food. They ate in silence with Hermione reading her book and left Roland to his own thoughts. She got through almost half the book when it finally began to talk about the Light and Shadow elements. The two most opposing elements in the world, Light and Shadow, are often viewed as good and evil, right and wrong, order and chaos. But this has been proven wrong. Throughout history, there has never been a single Shadow element that was evil. An interesting theory that proves why almost all of the Shadow elements fought for the Lord came about during the Great War of 14790 A.C. This war brought about the most death amongst the wizarding world, and more so the muggle world. But it was a Shadow element that was born of the enemy that saved the lives of many, and ultimately ended the war with his own life. This brought forth the theory that all Shadow elements are ultimately good, for it is through their darkness that the light of hope can be shown.

I can't believe that, Hermione thought. How can someone get something so backwards? The shadow elements can't be good; it defies everything that we are ever taught. A being of darkness cannot be good. This was finally the topic that broke the silence. "Roland, this can't be right," Hermione said, and looked up at her cousin.

"Really, how so?" he replied. Roland stood up and limped over to her.

"It says that a Shadow element is good," Hermione looked up at Roland, "how can that be? Darkness is always told as evil, and-"

"Easy there, Hermione," Roland replied, "Don't get confused. And you are right by the way," Hermione beamed with pride. "About evil being darkness" she frowned. "But a shadow is something different. And science most recently has proven that."

"Ooh, I remember an article on that." Hermione sat back in her chair. "It talked about the scientific breakthrough on proving an opposite to the proton, and virtually proving antimatter's existence. They called the particle Aeonosium. If I remember correctly, it was found by a Doctor Dem…" Hermione trailed off and looked at Roland. "It was you, wasn't?" he smiled and looked away. "It was, oh, this is so exciting." Hermione got in her information mode and looked like she wasn't going to stop. She began to ask questions about how he found, what tests he ran and only stopped because Roland put a hand up.

"Can we get back to the subject that you ask for by the way," Roland asked, and Hermione nodded. Again, he didn't want to talk about it. But Hermione would get this information from him. She glared at him and hoped that he got her look. "Not now, at least." Good, he did. "But you are right, that particle is the opposite of light, in every way imaginable. This particle makes up a shadow. We've yet to figure out what happens when light passes through an object to cause that to happen, but we do know that we get Aeonosium. Now we know that all of the elements, magical ones, are realistic concepts?" Hermione nodded. "Good that means we can manipulate them, right?" again a nod. "By now you're probably wondering what this has to do with Shadow elements being relatively good." The truth was that Hermione wasn't, she was too caught up the fact that Roland had found something so amazing, but she wasn't going to admit that Roland.

"What is chaos?" Roland asked.

"Anarchy, pure civil disorder," Hermione started.

"Disorder was the word that I was looking for. Now, what is light?"

"Light is the combination of different colors acting in a…" Hermione slow down, and a smile came to her face. She figured out why Shadow elements were most good and order like. If Aeonosium were the opposite of a proton, then it would act in an orderly way, unlike the proton. And if order was the representative of good then that would mean- "Roland, that's brilliant." Hermione replied. Her smiled had disappeared as she thought. "Light is seen as chaotic and then Shadow, as it's opposite, is orderly, and through for good." She smiled again. "And it makes perfect sense too. How did the people back then get so advanced?"

Roland gave Hermione a look like she was off on something, but didn't say anything. "Well, their ways weren't really proved by science, rather by faith. They believed that there were multiple gods who watched over them and protected them from the ultimate evil." Roland shrugged. "They just happened to get it right." He picked up her plate. "Now, you can help me with dishes then finish that book, there is a lot of useful information in it. After that, I should be done with what business I need to do and we can discuss it if you want." Roland grabbed a few other things and balanced then on his arms with the grace of a waiter. Hermione was about to ask if she should just do it, but knew that Roland was more than capable to do it, even if he was blind. She had seen him walk around the house with ease the moment he arrived. Hermione was guessing that it had something to do with magic, but didn't really know what. That was just another question to add to her list.

* * * * * *

When Harry woke up in the morning, he felt immense headache throbbing around his scar. When he reached up and felt it, there was some sort of liquid covered his scar. Pulling his hand away, Harry found that it was blood. He looked around and found that his pillow was covered in it. He nearly screamed in terror but held back and took a few deep breathes. Harry went through a mental check list. He knew that he hadn't gone through his plan yet, and that he didn't feel any pain from Voldemort the night before, he would have woken up. No, something else had happened, he just wish he knew what did happen.

But Harry did know that Uncle Vernon was going to kill him for making this mess. It was bad enough that Harry wasn't doing work around the house, but now that blood had soaked the sheet, Harry just knew that his uncle was going to kill him. He really needed to talk to Remus. Hopefully Hedwig had gotten his letter to his old professor and was on her way back. And that Uncle Vernon remembered what Moody, Tonks, Remus and Kingdley had warned and would obey their command. Then Harry wouldn't have to be beaten anymore. He shook at that thought. When Uncle Vernon was on one of his sprees, it was the only time when Harry feared the man. Despite the fact that most of it looked like fat, Harry learned the hard way that it was more muscle then fat. He rubbed his left shoulder from where Uncle Vernon last hit him. The pain was still there.

Harry got up and looked over at his wand. With a simple swish and flick the mess would be gone, and there would be no trouble. But Harry had not wished to be expelled with only two years left in his schooling career. No, he would just have to bear the wrath of his uncle. That was another thing to add to list. Unbeknownst to Roland, or maybe known, Harry had been making a list of all the reason why or why not to follow through with his original plan. Despite Roland's short intervention, it hadn't helped much. At least Harry knew what was bothering, but he was in no mood to try to fix them. He knew that some problems would never be fixed. Like no one will love me.

Shaking himself out of his own thoughts, Harry looked down at the blood stained shirt he was now sporting. He sighed; it was one of his old shirts lucky, so that meant none of his new cloths were ruined. Harry felt that he wasn't even going to wear them until he got out of the house. The less that the Dursleys knew he had, the better. Hell, if they didn't even know that he was alive, that would have been the greatest thing in the world. But no. Dumbledore and his stupid protection spells forced him to stay at this damned house and be tortured by the inhabitants. There another thing to add to the ever growing list that he had created.

He sighed as he took off his shirt. There was so much to think about, like Hermione and Ron, Sirius, Voldemort, and mutants. His mind paused at that last part. The whole world knew about them, which meant the Dursleys knew, too. Bloody Hell. Harry sat down even more depressed on his bed. If they had even a sense of intelligence in their minds than they could pull of that scam. A wizard is no more than a mutant who has grown through a race. They had abnormal abilities, and the Dursleys certainly didn't like anything abnormal. They could use wizardry as an excuse to hurt him even more. The fear of his uncle returned, and Harry didn't even know if he should tell them. Bloody hell, he thought one final time. There was something else to add to the bloody list. That bloody thing was just getting longer and longer.

The side which told him not to go through with the plan was rather short, but had more realistic ideas on it. Like the fact that he needed to kill Voldemort, as he was the only one who had the power. It was rather ironic that the boy that Voldemort was so much like was the one who would destroy him. That bloody prophecy had foretold the destruction of either Voldemort or Harry. Oh, bloody hell, that was the only reason holding Harry back from the knife right now. He had duty to finish. His only hope was that it would end with Voldemort and Harry's death. If not, then it would end shortly after that day.

Another thing that was on that list, surprisingly enough, was Hermione and Ron. They were his best friends in the world, even if they were now a couple. Harry knew how disappointed they would be if he did follow through with it, especially Hermione. She was always so logical and Harry doubted she could even understand what was happening to him now; what he was feeling. But he wasn't even going to tell anyone, not even Roland. There was just something about that man. As much as he wanted to trust him, Harry couldn't. There was this aura about him almost like Dumbledore, but it seemed to mask this other one, one that reminded Harry of Voldemort. Harry couldn't explain it, but it was there, and that was what scared him. His eyes were what scared him, not the mutant powers, but the ability to mask what ever he was hiding. He created a simple illusion without a word. So what else was that man hiding?

Harry questioned many things in his life, but the main one was whether or not he was ever going to find love in the world. He was a constant target for Voldemort, and so would whomever he loved. Harry could not put someone through that. No, his best bet was to distant himself from all those he cared about, just so he could get this over with as soon as possible. That way no one would get hurt because of someone who was after him. He and he alone should suffer.

"Boy," Uncle Vernon yelled from down stair. Harry sighed. What now? He just changed his shirt and pants and walked down stair to see what the problem was. "We're in the living room." He sighed again, and walked solemnly to the living room.

In there was Professor Lupin and Tonks. They were talking rather animatedly with Aunt Petunia about something, and she was actually laughing. And it wasn't one of her forced laughs that his aunt used with Uncle Vernon's clients. But here it was, an actual laugh. That surprised Harry; he had never seen his aunt happy around wizards, let along laughing. Something was certainly not right.

"Ah," Tonks said smiling, but that smile quickly disappeared when she looked at him. "What happened to you?" Bloody hell. Harry had forgotten about the dried blood on his forehead. He had to think of something quickly.

"Oh, nothing," he replied, "just a small cut."

"A small cut, huh?" Lupin got up and walked over to Harry. "It is around your entire scar Harry. Did something happen last night?"

"Not that I know of," Harry said, but only got looks from both of them. "Honestly, I didn't feel a thing. It was just when I woke up this morning; my entire bed was covered in blood."

"What?" Uncle Vernon bellowed. "How dare that-"

"Oh, relax dear," Aunt Petunia said, "it's not a big deal, we can just clean it later." She turned to her husband. "Why don't we get out shopping done for the day, okay sweetheart?" She wrapped an arm around Uncle Vernon's and walked out the room. "I have a few things that I want to get done." Harry looked at then walking out, and then back at Tonks and Lupin. Both of them were smiling.

"What are you two smiling about?" he asked.

"It's a amazing what a simple calming charm can do," Tonks said, she was smiling about the fact.

"I still can't believe that I agreed to that." Lupin shook his head and took a seat. Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "Tonks here casted a calming spell on Aunt Petunia and she was nice to us ever since." Harry couldn't help but smile. "Now, go get cleaned up you, and then Tonks here will take a look at that wound."

Harry laughed as he washed. He liked Lupin and Tonks; they always tried to make him feel comfortable and safe. Harry would hate leaving them. He came back with a frown, but neither of them asked why. "Now, Harry," Tonks said, "let me see your scar." Harry sighed. "Don't you give me that tone, mister." Her face quickly changed to one that looked like Aunt Petunia. Lupin held back a laugh and a smile crossed Harry's face. "Now come here." Harry was hesitant, but walked over to Tonks. She and Lupin were sitting awfully close together on the couch, but Harry didn't mention it.

"You're not going to turn into Mrs. Weasley, are you?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?" Tonks asked, her face changing into Mrs. Weasley's. This brought forth the laugh from Harry.

"I mean, all mother-like," Harry replied. "I liked you when you just acted like I was one of the team, not some fragile child who needed to be pampered."

Tonks laughed and her face changed back. "Okay," she said, "just as long as you know that there are people who will care for you if you ask for it." Harry nodded. "Now, how were your days with Roland?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. That was part of the reason why he had sent the letter. But now, Harry wasn't quite sure what he wanted to talk about. "I'm not sure," Harry replied, "I mean I had a good time, but there were some things…" he took a seat in Uncle Vernon's favorite chair.

"You felt it too then, huh," Lupin said.

"Remus said that as much as he trusts Roland, there is just something about him," Tonks quickly said. She shrugged. "I don't feel a thing. He's a real nice guy. But-"

"Hah," Harry smirked, "I knew there was a `but.'"

"But," Tonks reiterated, "He's not my type. Too unstable." Harry gave Tonks a weird look, as if asking `what do you mean?' "He was legally dead for ten minutes when he twelve, Harry."

All Harry could say was, "Wow." That could be the reason as to why Roland was a mutant. The news was saying that it usually took a traumatic incident for the mutant gene to arise. But what would the definition of traumatic experience be? Didn't what Harry go through with Sirius' death traumatic enough? Then shouldn't he be a mutant?

"What's wrong?" Lupin asked.

"If the mutant gene is triggered by a traumatic event," Harry said, "Then shouldn't I be a mutant?" For a while there was silence, and that bothered Harry. So is that a yes, he wanted to ask, but didn't, rather he decided that they needed to think about their question.

"It is possible, Harry," Tonks said, "Roland said-"

"Why does everything now have to concern him," Harry shouted and stood up. He didn't even know why he did that, but his heart spoke true.

"Because he is the first open mutant we have in the Order, Harry," Lupin finally replied. Harry turned to his friend, and pointed a finger. His old professor nodded. "Tonks, too." Harry mouthed the word, oh and took a seat.

"Speaking for myself," Tonks said, "I didn't even know I was a mutant."

"How is that possible?"

"A Metamorphmagus ability," Tonks looked down at the ground, "that's the reason why it is so rare for a person's genes to be right in order for such a useful ability. At least that is what Professor X said." Harry raised an eyebrow. "He's the man who works with mutants in America. He is a belated wizard, almost a squib." He nodded, but didn't quite understand.

"My ability has to do with the lycanthropy," Lupin said. "If it weren't for that, I would have complete control over the werewolf form." He shrugged.

Harry didn't want to push the matter any further but he had to know. "Were my parents mutants, Professor?"

Lupin laughed. "I'm not your professor right now," Right now what did that mean? "Just call me Remus."

"Okay," Harry replied. He wasn't sure if he was comfortable with that but would try for the sake of his friend. "But you didn't answer my question?"

Remus sighed. "Yeah, at least your Mum was. A telekinetic. It was rather funny to see her pick on James with that ability, even before they started to going out." The old tired man laughed and Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought of his parents. "That was when we all first met Professor Charles Xavier. He was the man who help Lily get her powers under control when she was younger and came to the school for Padfoot."

"Sirius was a mutant?" Harry asked; he was amazed. Harry lived with the man for almost all of last summer and never even knew. "I can't believe that."

"Well, it isn't hard," Tonks replied, "it wasn't until recently that mutant abilities have become more obvious."

"Right," Remus added. "And with Sirius, his was just as hidden as Lily's. He was a telepath." That caused Harry's jaw to drop. "Don't be so surprised. That's why he was always so empathic around you, and partially why he escaped from Azkaban so easily. From what Sirius explained to me, you have to have a lot of control over the telepathy to prevent yourself from going insane. You have to close your mind to the world." Harry just nodded. He was taking in so much.

"Don't act so surprise," Tonks said, "mutant abilities are common within the wizarding world. We just use magic to explain it instead of science."

"So that's why a metamporhmagus is a mutant ability, right?" Harry asked. "So would that mean an Animagus is also a mutant ability?"

"Sort of," Remus replied. "It's complicated."

"Oh," Harry sat back in Uncle Vernon's chair and thought about it. If it was as complicated as that, then this wasn't really the time to talk about that. He decided to think about it some more. But now was the time for questions. "What's going on with Voldemort?" Neither cringed, but that didn't really surprise Harry. Tonks was an Auror, and Remus was, well, Remus. It was probably due to being in the Order.

"Not much," Tonks said, "There has been an increase in missing Muggles, but I doubt that is due to Voldemort. Mostly he has been quiet, which is bothering me."

"And the Ministry?"

Remus took this question. "With the amount of owls and the incident at the Ministry, Fudge has finally agreed to the rebirth of Voldemort. Aurors now comb Diagon Alley as well as any other highly populated wizarding area, save the schools."

"The Educational Decrees?" Harry asked with high hopes. With Voldemort back, that could possibly mean a competent DADA teacher. And that he could play Quidditch again.

"All been repealed." This finally brought a smile to Harry's face. He could play Quidditch again. Now, all he wondered was- "you're Firebolt is safely in the hands of Professor McGonagall." Good, it was one of the few things he had left from Sirius. "I doubted even she would destroy such a great broom."

For the next hour, they talked about the news in the wizarding world and the Order. He had gotten them to agree to at least think about tutoring him in preparation for the final battle. Harry wanted to be ready for anything, and what a better place to start then from then from an Auror and, well, Remus. Harry had more faith in him then he did the rest of the Order. Remus was the last thing that was a part of Harry's old family, and the Boy-Who-lived treasured that. Add that to the list, Harry doubted that Remus could survive another loss like he did with Sirius. He was the last of the Marauders and that was saying something given his disease.

The clock bellowed three and Harry realized that they had talked away the afternoon. And his relatives weren't even back from wherever they went to. "Oh my gosh," Tonks said. She looked over to the clock. Harry smirked at her words. "We better get going. It's getting late." The Auror stood up quickly, and Remus followed. "You take care of yourself, Harry." Harry nodded his response. "We'll check on you in a few days, alright." They quickly apparated out of the house, probably back to the Order Headquarters. The day went by so quickly that Harry didn't even have to think about much of his plan. He was happy, right? But, he would probably never find love. His best friends have found it, but it would never find Harry. After his little incident with Cho, Harry doubted that he wanted to date anyone else. It was just too much stress to deal with besides the prophecy. Harry was already having a hard time dealing with it, and he didn't need anymore.

Sighing, Harry decided that his best bet was to get as much done as possible in the house, like food or something. He went up stairs and cleaned up the mess that had occurred some time during the night. While the sheets were in the washer, Harry made himself some lunch and probably dinner too. Uncle Vernon was going to be upset because Wizards were in his house. This gave Harry a lot of time to think about what Remus and Tonks. There was something different about them today, from the last time he had seen them, and there was this bounce in Tonks' step, different then her normal one. And Remus, he was different then the man that Harry had seen the last time. There was this twinkle in his eye that wasn't there before, and just something else. Could it be love? Harry noticed how they were sitting awfully close and shooting glances towards each other. They also began to finish each other's sentences. That must be it, then. They were in love. Harry wondered if they knew about that. Probably didn't, all they were really doing was being friends with one another.

After pulling out his sheets from the dryer, Harry replaced them on his bed. What is love? Harry asked himself. Is love the will to die for someone else? In three cases now, three people have given their lives in order for Harry to live. And as far as Harry knew was that these people loved him. But about real love? Soul mates and all that bloody junk? He didn't know. His parents were in love from everything that he knew. But what defined it? What Ron and Hermione have, is that love? Harry doubted that. Despite what everything he heard about opposites attracting, Ron and Hermione were too different for anything real to happen. At least Harry hoped.

But did they love him? That was what bothered Harry the most. This action that they both did was something that was going to take a long time to heal. It didn't matter that they were going out, Harry could have cared less. He felt a slight burn in his heart but tossed it up to heartburn, and thought nothing else of it. No, his mind went back, the fact that they didn't think that they could tell me about it was what hurt the most. Harry's anger grew and he felt that he had to lie down just to get it gone. Focusing in on a happy thought, the anger slowly subsided. But Harry didn't want to move, or even think about more. He just wanted it to be over. He just wanted to finally rest.

* * * * * *

"Alright Hermione," Roland said, "If you are so interested in finding out what element you are, there are a few things I can do." She nearly hopped out of her seat in excitement. They had spent the entire afternoon going over questions that Hermione had. It got the point that Roland was getting frustrated with her not knowing what element she was. He said that he would rather not explain it, just read the book. But Hermione wanted to know as soon as possible. "Can you get me a pen and a large pad of paper?" Hermione got up eagerly and rushed in the kitchen.

From what Roland had told her she had a vague idea of what elements she could possibly be. It was a toss up between Earth, Water, and Air. Each of those had intelligence as playing an important role in the element, no matter how small in Earth's case. And since Hermione was the smartest girl at Hogwarts, those were the only logical choices. Fire was too violent, Light was too calm, and Hermione was certainly neither. There was a slight possibly that she might have been a Shadow element, but Roland had told her that the chances of a Shadow element being born in even a thousand years was somewhere around the actual value of pi raised to the -100, so that quickly took the Shadow element out of the mix.

Hermione came running back in with what Roland had asked for. She took a seat next to him before handing him the paper. Roland stared at her for a moment before drawing something on the paper. "I doubt you would understand what I am going to do," he said, making Hermione frown. Why would he think that she wouldn't even understand? She was smart, after all. There was a chance that she could get it pretty quickly. "But even if you don't I don't want you rigging this for a certain element." Roland pointed across to the other chair. "Sit there and we can begin." Hermione stared at Roland. How dare he, she thought as she got up, that I would even dream of cheating, even on something as trivial as this stupid test. She at least got a small look at the drawing Roland had made. It was a circle with symbol in the center. And on the outside of the circle were six smaller ones. Hermione took a seat across from Roland, and crossed her arms.

"Thank you," he said, and looked up at Hermione. "Now I'm going to ask you twelve questions dealing with twelve different occasions, maybe more. I don't want you to analyze the questions or think too much." He smiled at his cousin. "I'm not saying you can't think about it. Just answer what is the first thing that comes to your mind. You can't get it wrong or right. These are just a guideline that is used for finding out what element you are."

"Fine," Hermione said, her anger was gone, and now she was anxious to know what element she was. I hope that it's Water. From what Roland had told her, it sound as if it was the coolest element of them all.

"Are you ready?" Roland asked.

"Yes, yes," Hermione replied, "can we begin?"

"Yes," Roland said, "and here is your first question: a child is in the middle of the street, wearing dirty clothes and crying from hunger pains. You wish to help the child yet have no food or money on you. You do not know this child nor, does he know you, yet you have this feeling to help him. What do you do?"

"That's it?" Hermione asked. She was rather surprised at the simplicity of the question. Roland nodded. "I'd help him."

"But how," Roland replied, "and explain thoroughly." Hermione sat there for a moment, thinking about it. She would help the child, but how. The first thing that she thought of was to go get him food.

"I would go get him food and bring it back for him." Her words had a sense of finality to them, and a smile crossed her face.

"Okay," Roland wrote something down, but Hermione didn't see what. "Next question-"

"Wait, you aren't even going to tell me that I was correct?" Hermione asked. Roland stared oddly at her, and it made her feel uncomfortable. "What?"

"I said that there is no right or wrong answer. What you do is your choice and you have to live with. It is right or wrong by your standards and no one else's."

Hermione calmed down a bit and Roland's glare lessened. "And what would you do?"

"I would take the child home with me, wash him, clothe him and give him money and drive him to the nearest shelter." Hermione looked like she was about to object, but Roland held up a hand and stopped her. "I said there was no right or wrong, just morals and what you believe in. Next Question: ever since you have moved into your new apartment…"

And so it went on like that. It seemed like hours that they sat at the table. But Hermione knew better. She had been watching the clock, waiting her best for the answer to her original question: which element she was. Most of what Roland had asked her was based off of either a moral or logical choice. Sometimes he gave her choices if it was a very difficult choice, from either side. Some of the other questions were about her habits, like studying and having fun. It didn't really get too personal, but just enough for her cousin to get a glimpse of her life. Often after the question, Hermione would ask why he chose what he did. It gave her some insight into her cousin's mind.

Finally they had at last come to the last question. Roland sighed, and muttered something. It sounded like he hated asking this question. "Final question, Hermione. This is your last one and I will not help you on this. And unlike the others, you would see the effects of this right away. And unlike the others, I will give you a reply to your answer, just to show how your actions would have affected the outcome." Roland paused. "I just wished I didn't have to ask this question."

"Continue," Hermione said, but her voice was soft. She was touched by Roland's expressions; he was visibly worried about something and felt terrible about the next question.

"Okay," Roland said stretching. When he finally stopped, he spoke in an ominous voice. "Final Question: you have been captured by an enemy along with your two best friends." Hermione didn't like were this was going. "One of you has been sentenced to death. But with a sadistic twist." No, Hermione certainly didn't like this question. It reminded Hermione too much of her friends. She could just see Harry and Ron standing next to her, waiting to die in front of Voldemort. "You have been told to choose, which one of your friend would die. The other and you would get to live." Hermione gasped. No, it can't be, she thought, that was just what Voldemort would do. "I'm sorry Hermione, but I must ask this: Choose."

"No," She said, shaking her head, "I won't. You can't make me." She wanted to back away, but was unable to move for some odd reason.

"Hermione," Roland said with the utmost importance. "You must choose or all three of you will die in the slowest, most painful way imaginable. You must choose, for the sake of your friends."

"No," she whispered. Roland's words had opened a hole in Hermione's mind that she hoped would never be opened. The lives of her friends rested on her shoulders. "I can't."

"Choose!" Roland yelled. Hermione nearly fell out of her chair. His voice was so different. It wasn't anything like she had heard before. It was dark and deep; even when Roland yelled at before, it wasn't like this. This was… crueler. "If you wish to finish this, then choose. If not, all three." She was scared of her cousin; he had never acted like this before. "Choose!"

"Please," Hermione was visible shaking from the question. Tears were pouring down her cheeks. "Please, don't-" but Roland didn't allow her to finish.

"Then all three are sentenced-"

"No," Hermione said, her logic had finally kicked in. "it's…it's…"

"Who, Hermione?" Roland asked. "Who is it?" his voice echoed through the house and shook most of the china.

"It's Harry," she finally said and broke out into large sobs. "It's Harry." Roland quickly crossed the room before Hermione did fall out of her chair and on to the floor, catching his cousin. He held her close to his chest and rocked back and forth on the rock, soothing her. She had chosen Harry over her boyfriend. Did that mean that she didn't love Ron? The sobs continued and Roland stroked her hair softly, humming lightly. No, of course not, she loved Ron, didn't she? No, she had chosen Harry because...because… Hermione couldn't think straight; the question was just too much. She whimpered softly. For the longest time, Roland held his cousin, trying to calm her down. But she just wanted to be with…Harry. Hermione had no idea way, but she just wanted to in his arms and have him hold her tightly, telling her that she would be okay, that everything would be fine, that they would be safe.

Roland finally said. "Your mortal enemy murdered your other friend in front of your eyes, and banished you out right with chosen friend." His voice was a whisper, almost nothing, and this brought even more sobs from Hermione. They sat there like that, Roland trying to calm her down.

After what seemed like forever, Roland finally spoke up again. "When I was first asked this question, I didn't handle it as well." His voice was stranded and tired. "I think I destroyed a room. I was so upset at the mere thought."

Hermione sniffled. "What-what did you choose?" she didn't know if she wanted to know the answer to this

There was a long silence. "Me." Hermione pulled away and looked into her cousin's sunglasses. "I don't deserve a life, Hermione. Not after the things I have done." Silence followed, and Hermione watched as a single tear rolled down his face. "I don't deserve to live," he whispered so softly that Hermione wasn't even sure if he said anything if she didn't see his mouth move. She knew better then to ask why. It would only upset him further and probably her. Hermione could only think about was Harry, and all the hard choices that he had had to make during the time she had known him. So much depended on Harry, and she finally knew what it meant to make decision like that.

* * * * * *

When Hermione's parents came home they found Hermione on the couch, asleep from the crying and the sobbing. Roland was gone; no note other then what he had written down on his paper. "The Air" was the only legible word that the Grangers could read, for the rest was in a forgotten language unknown to almost all of the word. It was almost a dead language, thanks to the actions of the British and others who were ignorant.

Mrs. Granger walked over to her daughter only to see that she was holding onto a picture of her and her two best friends. She thought that Hermione missed her boyfriend and other friend, but a feeling told her otherwise. She whispered Harry's name, and how he was in danger. As her husband came into the living room, Mrs. Granger stroked her daughter's forehead softly. She just wished that she could help with what her daughter was going through. Over the past few years, Mrs. Granger had noticed a serious change in her daughter. She was constantly worried about one of her friends, Harry Potter. There were nights when Hermione wouldn't stop talking about him. Mrs. Granger really thought that Hermione would ask out that boy from the way she talked about him. But with this Ronald Weasley, all Mrs. Granger heard about was how he was an insufferable prat who didn't even listen to her daughter. That was what surprised her the most. She had heard how Hermione and Ron would get into awful fights and not speak for days, even weeks. Mrs. Granger just hoped that her daughter didn't get hurt with this relation.

Mr. Granger picked up his daughter, and took her upstairs, leaving his wife to her thought. She looked back at the table and the paper that was written in Roland's handwriting. There were a few books spread out on the floor in the living room. She picked them up and read the titles: Elemental Theories and Uses, The Elements Across the Ages, The Affects the Elements had on Life and Religion. The books just went on and on about that. She flipped through one and read on passage and was shocked at of the things in the books. It wasn't graphic or anything like that, but rather it discussed the entire world through these elements and how it was doomed to fall. Certainly odd, she thought. These books also talked about angels and demons.

What is Roland teaching Hermione? If it had anything to do with his job, then she would not allow it. Hermione had too much to deal with already. No, she would not be brought into that world which Roland hides so well. "She most certainly will not," Mrs. Granger said.

"But what if she is already?" Roland had appeared in the corner, shocking his aunt. "You are as well, and I'm doing my best to keep you out of it. But one of these days you will get into it, and you will never be able to leave."

"What do you mean?" She took a seat on one of the empty chairs.

"Well, Aunt Mary," Roland didn't, rather he stayed in the shadows, "have you ever felt something, something that you know was going to happen. And that something come true?" She sat there for a moment, thinking about all the times that she felt horrible during the year, only to learn how Hermione was hurt somehow or something bad had happened. It was like when her sister died, Mrs. Granger just knew.

"Yes," she replied, "a few times." Roland moved away from the window, and over behind his aunt. The rustling of his cloak was heard just before he spoke. She turned to face her nephew.

"A belated Seer," he said with a chuckle. "I'm not surprised. How long has these feelings occurred, say, since the death of my mother?" He's right; it was during that time that she would get these awful headaches, Mrs. Granger thought. But that was just due to stress.

"How, how did you know?" she asked.

Roland moved again, but she didn't know where. The same sound of a rustling cloth echoed in her ears. "Because there is celestial blood running through your veins, Aunt Mary. And as you are now an only child, that blood has been activated. The same blood that runs through Hermione's veins." Mrs. Granger was shocked, how could this be? They were normal, with nothing wrong about them.

"What about you?" She quickly asked, trying to change the subject. "Aren't you an only child?"

"That blood was destroyed by my…my," Roland tried to say it, but couldn't. "By him, so no I'm not."

"Are you positive?" She asked.

"As much as I am about the other boy, yes," Roland said, he moved again. His cloak or something moved slightly for she heard it again. "I doubt that it means something other then you just having to learn how to control what you have."

"And what of Hermione?"

"Hogwarts," Roland replied, "There Dumbledore can help her if she needs it, which I doubt." Roland moved across the room. Mrs. Granger had given up trying to keep track of him. "But she, they, you will now be in danger. If this gets out then your lives could get lost. And I'm not sure if I can handle a full attack by myself."

"What do I do?" She asked, but got no reply. Her nephew was gone. That left the choice up to Mrs. Granger. This was one choice that she would need to talk her husband about. "Joe," she called out softly.

"I heard it all." He came down the stairs and sat down next to his wife. "Did you even-"

"Know? No, I didn't," Mrs. Granger said. "Roland just told me the first of it." That would explain the headache had started was getting a few hours ago.

"So what about your headache?" he asked.

"I don't know." But I don't want to take that chance. "Joe," she said, "I think we need to change it."

He sighed. "If you truly believe that it is for the best, then we will, tomorrow even." He wrapped an arm about his wife.

"Thank you," she replied, and relaxed. Both were silent, trying not to think of the worst, and only the best.

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