A/N: Well. This chapter hopefully brings a lot of things together (reiterates the `hopefully'). There's somewhat of an action-type scene towards the middle which required quite a bit of descriptive writing. I'll freely admit that it's not my strong suit, I much prefer writing dialogue. So I really hope that it works. Anyway, be gentle on me.
To everyone that's read and reviewed: thank you so much for your comments. I appreciate them all and would love to reply to every single one of them, but I seem to be somewhat lacking in the time department recently. Sorry that this update took so long. I'm honestly trying to get these out as fast as I can. I'm planning on working on the next chapter this weekend to have out sometime next week.
The last thing that Harry wanted to do was go down to dinner. Hermione would be there and he would probably be obligated to sit next to her. Then he'd have to make conversation, all the while skirting their real issues and pretending that things were fine. The entire thing was making his head hurt, and if he hadn't been so hungry he probably would have skipped it.
However, he was hungry, and some part of him realized that maybe Ron had been right. The realization came as somewhat of a shock (Ron was right!), and he thought that perhaps talking to Hermione about her feelings really would be the sensitive thing to do (Ron was right!). So with a growling stomach and some trepidation, he made his way down to the Great Hall.
He vaguely considered sitting next to Ron instead of Hermione, but switched tactics immediately when he saw Luna sitting at Ron's elbow. Heart beginning to thump wildly in his chest, Harry hesitantly slid in next to Hermione.
"Hey," he said, in what he hoped was a light, casual tone.
She barely looked up at him. "Hello," she greeted, rather coolly.
Harry swallowed nervously and searched his brain for something to say.
"So, um, what's for dinner?"
Hermione frowned lightly. "Use your eyes, Harry."
Harry swallowed again.
"Hermione…" he began, not really sure what he going to say.
She froze, a fork of food halfway between her plate and her mouth. "Yes?" she asked softly.
This separation thing is ridiculous, it doesn't matter how many times I say we're just friends…it'll never be true.
Harry shook his head. "Nothing," he answered quickly. "Never mind."
She sighed painfully and continued eating.
Harry shifted his attention to Luna and Ron, eager to do anything but stare miserably at Hermione.
"Oh, yes, it's quite true," Luna was saying breathlessly. "Full moon makes people do all kinds of things they wouldn't normally…"
"Really?" Ron said eagerly, leaning towards her. "Like snogging?"
Luna giggled. "You know, Ronald, it's a very beautiful night outside."
Ron glanced at the ceiling. "Erm, it's raining, Loonie… " Ron paused and turned purple. "I mean… Luna. How are you? Beautiful night did you say?"
She blinked her eyes dreamily at him. "Oh, I don't mind it when you call me Loonie."
Ron's eyes widened. "Loonie's a lovely name…" he said, in a strangled voice.
Luna looked at the ceiling of the Great Hall and hummed to herself. "The stars are aching to get out… pushing the rain far away… far, far away…." She blushed suddenly, looking a little embarrassed. "Perhaps you'd like to go for a walk with me later."
Ron flushed. "A walk?"
Luna's blush, if anything, actually increased. "I can practice singing `Weasley is My King' in preparation for your match tomorrow."
"That's all?" Ron asked, a disappointed note to his voice.
"Well, no," Luna said, with a slight frown. "It will be a full moon, you know."
"Will it?"
Harry, deciding that Ron clearly needed some help, kicked him rather forcefully under the table.
Ron yelped and glared at him. "Oi! What did you do that for, Harry?"
"A walk," he hissed. "Under the full moon. Makes people do weird thing…"
Ron still continued to look rather confused and Harry groaned, turning to Hermione for help.
She was looking at Ron with a speculative look on her face. "Perhaps they will go on their walk," she said lightly. "Perhaps it really will clear up and the moon will come up. Maybe they'll start kissing, they won't really know what they're doing, only that it feels right. Next thing you know, Ron will tell her how much he loves her-"
Ron gasped and made a choking voice. "Hermione, what are you-"
"But break up with her at the same time," Hermione continued loudly, ignoring Ron's glare. "Then the pain comes next. Oh, yes, the pain. Suddenly breathing hurts, doing homework hurts, sleep is like torture. You decide to be friends. That works out just brilliantly. Friends-it's simple and rather easy, you've been friends for nearly 6 years, after all. Then things start heating up again…"
Harry did the only thing he could, given the circumstances. He whimpered. Loudly. Hermione, thankfully, seemed to finally notice what she'd been saying. She quickly began eating again, turning an interesting shade of red.
Ron was staring at Hermione in mild panic, breathing heavily. "Are you still talking about me?"
Luna was blinking away tears. "Ronald," she said heavily. "You're breaking up with me?"
"Wha… what? What? No… I…" Ron trailed off, blushing furiously. "When was there anything to break up from?"
Harry shrank down into his seat and coughed lightly. "Err," he tried. "Perhaps we're getting slightly ahead of ourselves…"
Luna sniffled loudly. "Ronald… after everything…"
Ron started gulping down a glass of water. "Really… Luna… I think Hermione was confused…"
Harry shrank down even further.
Finally, he said in a whisper, "Hermione, I think that we should talk."
"Do you?" she asked coldly, not looking at him.
"I think that…" he said carefully. "I think that I haven't been fair to you. I don't think I've paid enough consideration to your feelings. I, err… I'd really like to know how you feel about… everything," he finished weakly.
Hermione sniffled loudly, but still didn't turn to look at him. "Oh, Harry," she whispered. "I didn't think you'd ever ask."
`Thank you, Ron,' Harry thought. Feeling decidedly happier, Harry sat up a little straighter and began eating again. That was when it started, something he'd jokingly refer to later as: `After I started the shepherd's pie, but before I'd started on the salad.'
His scar prickled ever so lightly. Harry, who was used to feeling light pain in his scar, promptly ignored it. Due to Occlumency, he and Dumbledore had managed to get to a point where the old pain dulled to a slight warning. For the most part, he'd stopped sharing dreams with Voldemort. However, Dumbledore warned that the connection was still there. Harry had to be aware that Voldemort would no doubt attempt to utilize it again in the future.
Harry continued to munch, starting on his salad. The pain increased and Harry let out a startled gasp. Heads turned in his direction and Harry grit his teeth until the pain passed. Head throbbing ever so slightly, Harry was relieved when the pain in his scar disappeared. He continued on his salad, hoping that would be the extent of it.
The pain seared to life. It was a pain that Harry had only felt once before. He felt the pain burst alive on his forehead and he grasped at it, letting out a hoarse scream as he did so. His scar felt on fire, ripping and bursting his forehead in two. Moaning and screaming, he fell to the floor, grasping at his head.
His body began twitching wildly, the pain spreading into all his limbs and consuming him. Harry couldn't remember anything, he couldn't remember his name, where he was, who he was, he could only feel the pain, the pain consuming him, tearing him…
The pain changed, it became darker, more sinister. Harry felt cold and numb like he had been thrust into the iciest water imaginable. The coldness spread throughout his body and he choked, the pain in his forehead increasing to unimaginable levels. Some level of clear thinking burst through his head and terror spread through his body.
He knew what was coming.
He struggled to fight. The pain was too much, he couldn't think. He tried to hold onto something, he tried to remember everything that Dumbledore had taught him about Occlumency. He yelled himself hoarse, screams of pain and fear.
The coldness continued to spread, the pain in his forehead reaching such a height that for one second he nearly blacked out. The pain subsided somewhat and the coldness developed a firm hold over his body. Abruptly his screams ended, though his forehead was still alive with pain. He tried to blink, he tried to open his mouth, he tried to do something that meant he was still in control…
He was standing up, his mouth was twisting into a feral grin… he was reaching for his wand… his eyes were busily passing over everyone and everything in the room…
Harry wasn't in control any longer. All he could feel was the pain. The pain and the blackness, the cold that swept through his entire form until he wasn't sure where it ended and he began…
He was speaking now, but it wasn't his voice. It was a horrible imitation of his voice, low and hissing. "Don't move Dumbledore…"
His wand was out… and he was filled with an icy desire to…
Kill…
No! Harry tried to struggle, it was his body, he was in control. He would not let Voldemort use him this way. He would not let Voldemort possess him….
"Stop fighting, Potter," his voice hissed. "It won't do you any good…"
He was shunned to the side again, pain searing to life. Dumbledore had risen at the staff table, Professor McGonagall next to him. Harry felt slight hope rise within him at the sight of Dumbledore, his wand raised and his face grim.
His voice was laughing now. It was a low sound, like a strong hiss.
"Stand down, Dumbledore," he said. "You'll never kill the boy… we both know that…"
Dumbledore's blue eyes clouded over. "Oh?" he said. "Would you like to test that theory…. Voldemort?"
A shocked gasp rippled through the Great Hall. Students stood up, looking panicked and stricken.
"No one moves," his voice said again, his hand twirling his wand. "The first one who does…"
Dumbledore motioned with his hands for students to sit. Cries of fear and terror broke out through the hall.
Harry watched everything as if underwater. He could feel himself moving, he could hear his voice speaking, but he wasn't in control. The pain was so intense… it was so overpowering… he knew he should fight it…
A loud whimper broke the hushed panic of the hall and his body turned ever so slightly, eyes still fixed upon Dumbledore. His mouth twisted into a wider smile.
Hermione was standing and attempting to reach him. She wasn't getting anywhere, as Ron had a firm grip on both her arms, physically holding her back. When Harry turned his eyes on her, she shrieked and took a step backward. Ron put a protective hand on her arm and reached for his wand.
He was laughing again. The laugh filled Harry with terror. Despite the pain, he felt panic seeping in. Not Hermione… Voldemort couldn't take Hermione…
"Is that so, Potter?" his voice hissed out.
He had his wand raised again, it was pointing at Ron and Harry knew what was coming… he could feel it… he wanted to stop it… he wanted to do anything to stop it…
And then Dumbledore was there. His wand was out and he looked furious, his body radiating power.
"You will not take any of my students, Voldemort," Dumbledore said quietly. "I will not allow it."
He was laughing again, twirling his wand. "And if that means sacrificing Potter?"
Dumbledore stared at him. "Harry," he said calmly. "I know you can hear me. I need you to fight him, Harry. You can fight him. You are strong enough. This is not Voldemort's natural state. It can and will be done."
Harry tried, he struggled… he pushed… he tried to get past the pain… his body went still and he felt a surge of hope… he pressed on…
A new swell of pain overcame him and he let out a short scream. His cry echoed through the hall, his own, but it was cut off…
Voldemort had control again and he was moving foreword… he was coming towards Dumbledore…. Harry felt excitement swell up inside him. This was his chance… this was his chance to… to…
Kill. Kill Dumbledore.
Harry wanted to speak, he wanted to tell Dumbledore to just kill him, anything was better than this pain, and anything was better than killing everyone he loved…
"You have failed, Dumbledore," he said, his voice low and mocking. "Harry is gone."
Dumbledore's face betrayed little. "You will not win, Voldemort," he said quietly. "Harry will never stop fighting you."
He paused, pretending to think it over. "Why… I do believe he's giving up…. He's begging for death… begging for you to kill him…"
"No," Hermione whimpered, hand going to her mouth.
Harry felt a surge of triumph pass through him and he was sickened by the realization that it was because Voldemort was enjoying the pain he was causing. He struggled weakly against the hold Voldemort had on his mind, but he felt too tired… there was too much cold… too much pain…
His tongue clucked and he advanced towards Hermione, excitement welling up inside him. Ron shook as he kept a firm hand on Hermione's arm, his eyes bleak and flat as they stared at Harry's form. "Don't come near her," Ron breathed dangerously. "I'm warning you, if you don't want to piss off Harry… don't come near her…"
"Harry Potter is gone," his voice said, amusement colouring its tones. "We are one… we are the same… he is nothing…"
"Harry… please…" Hermione said brokenly. "Please, Harry… I know you're in there…"
"Stupid girl…" he hissed venomously. "It is only me… Lord Voldemort… and you, Mudblood will soon be dead…"
Terrified cries echoed through the hall. People gripped each other, tears shinned freely in the eyes of the younger students. Only the Slytherins appeared unaffected, their eyes transfixed on Harry and the show playing out before them.
"That's enough, Tom," Dumbledore said, shifting surreptitiously closer to Ron and Hermione. "I will never allow you to harm any of my students, so long as they are under my protection…"
Harry's laugh was gleeful now, the triumph and excitement building up inside him. "And what about Potter? It's them or him… even you must realize that…"
Trembling, Hermione wrenched herself out of Ron's protective grip and came to stand next to Dumbledore. She raised her chin in defiance. "Harry," she said, voice strong. "You must fight him. Fight him, Harry."
At the sound of her voice, Harry tried to renew his struggles, but it was useless. There was too much pain, too much blackness. Voldemort was right… Dumbledore should just kill him…
Harry had his eyes closed, and enjoyment surged through him. "You cannot possible hope to reach him, you silly fool."
Hermione's lip trembled. "Professor…" she whispered. "Please… help him…"
Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder. "If Harry cannot fight you, Voldemort, I will have no choice."
"No!" Hermione yelled, clear panic in her voice. She pushed herself in front of Dumbledore, making clear her intent to protect Harry at all costs.
Harry's laugh rang through the hall. He had his wand raised… Harry could see it… he could feel Voldemort's anticipation building inside him…
"HERMIONE!" Ron hollered, rushing at her, but Dumbledore held him back.
The pain didn't matter anymore. In that moment, no amount of pain would have stopped Harry from struggling. He only knew, he wouldn't let Voldemort have Hermione… not this way… not ever…
"Avada… NO!"
Miraculously, Harry's own voice, his normal voice, burst out of him. There was a momentary hush, and Harry suddenly found himself in full control again. He looked down, desperate to get his bearings…
Pain seared through him again, and he knew he failed. He knew Voldemort had possessed him again…
Hermione, hope shinning in her eyes, took a step closer to him. Ron seemed desperate to get to her, but Dumbledore continued to hold him back.
"Let go of me!" he bellowed, furiously trying to wrench himself free of Dumbledore's grip. "He's going to kill her!"
There were more shocked gasps throughout the hall. First years were crying and trembling with fear. The staff table was on their feet, their wands out and pointed towards Harry.
"Just say the words, Albus," McGonagall said, in a harsh whisper.
Dumbledore just shook his head, his entire focus on Hermione. "Not yet… not yet…"
Hermione continued to approach him cautiously. Harry felt panic well inside him. Voldemort waited patiently, waiting for Hermione to creep closer… he had his wand out again… his hand twitched with eagerness…
She stopped directly in front of him, her eyes glistening.
"Avada…" Harry fought again, struggling for control, adamant that Voldermort would not succeed. Voldemort had taken his parents, he'd taken Sirius, but he would not take Hermione. His hand began to shake with the effort. "Avada… Avada…"
Hermione placed a hand on his chest, over his heart. Voldemort was so shocked by the contact that he jerked backwards. Harry used his distraction to fight harder… to keep pushing… he could feel the pain ebbing… the cold beginning to recede…
"You listen to me, Harry," she said quietly, coming towards him again. Her hand was on his chest, and his heart leaped because he could feel it, he could feel her. Voldemort's hold on him was weakening.
"Avada …" his voice said again, choking on the words, as Harry fought to re-surface. "Avada …"
Hermione smiled and she shook her head. "You won't win, Voldemort," she said icily, moving even closer to him until she could look him in the eye. "Now listen, Harry," she whispered. "I need you to fight him. I love you, do you hear me? So you have to fight him. You have to because I can't lose you. I love you."
Warmth shot through Harry's body. It pushed away the cold and the pain. Her words echoed through his mind as the warmth tingled through him. He pushed Voldemort away. He kept pushing, pushing, pushing… Voldemort had not won… Harry had beaten him… Hermione loved him… Hermione loved him…
He held on to that thought desperately, clinging to it. Hermione loved him and he loved her and nothing else mattered. He let it fill him and he heard Voldemort yelling in his head. Voldemort was in pain… he couldn't understand love… he didn't understand Harry's reaction…
With a tremendous burst, Harry forced Voldemort out of his mind, out of his body. He felt Hermione's love well up inside him until he was afraid he would explode from the rush of warmth and feeling. No other words had ever had such a strong effect on him before…
With a start, Harry realized that he was in control. He could hear ragged breathing, he could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest, and he blinked his eyes rapidly. He glanced down, feeling the breath woosh out of his body as he did so.
He wasn't himself anymore. He tried to process what was happening, who he was… where he was. He spun around, trying to figure out what was happening. The room was dark and damp, the smell of mold and mildew was sharp.
He felt a loud roaring in his head, someone was screaming in pain. He felt it then, the coldness and blackness was filling his stomach again. He felt a hate so powerful it made him choke. He couldn't find a single good feeling… it was worse than being near Dementors… so much worse…
Evil…
It was evil as Harry had never felt before. It was evil in its purest form. It was dark and sinister, the complete opposite of love. It filled him with a despair so deep that he couldn't even remember what Hermione's face looked like… though he did his best to call her up in his mind…
Still he refused to surrender. He knew that this was important, somehow. He knew that he had to hold on a little while longer, just a little while longer. He forced himself to move, to prove that he could overcome the absence of feeling… that he could go on despite the evil welling up inside him… he had to prove that he was stronger that it…
He kept moving, twirling the wand in his hand. Though it was not his own, it felt oddly familiar… comforting…
The screaming in his head was louder. Though it was not his own, though he was no longer in any pain, he could feel it reverberating through his body. The coldness was sinking in… the darkness in him was so powerful… it chilled him to even contemplate it…. It was an evil too deep to comprehend, too deep to live through…
Harry couldn't do it any longer. He couldn't bear it, he tried desperately to hold on to all that made him good all that was pure in his world… Hermione's declaration of love seemed like it happened eons ago… had it really made him feel so good?"
Harry relinquished his hold. He let himself fall, out of the darkness, out of the cold…. He felt warmth beckoning to him and he dove for it, letting himself go….
Blackness enveloped him, oblivion and peace wrapped around him… he fell into it willingly, eagerly…
****
Harry was very warm. That was his first thought. He was warm. He curled up in a ball, feeling contentment encircle him… he knew, though he could not remember why, that warmth was the best feeling in the world… nothing was better than being warm…
He could hear voices around him. Soft voices, muted and hushed as if coming from underwater. Then he felt Hermione near and he instinctively relaxed. He could feel her hand clutching his, nearly to the point of pain. He desperately wanted to tell her that he was fine… that everything was okay… but he didn't seem to have the energy…
The voices were coming closer. He could make out Dumbledore, his voice radiating anger.
"No, Cornelius, you will not come near him. You will not touch him. You will not remove him. Harry will remain here, at Hogwarts, where he is safest…"
"Dumbledore, really, I believe your fondness for the boy is overshadowing reason! We cannot allow You-Know-Who free access to this school! The wizarding community is in a panic! Parents are demanding that the school be shut down…"
"Voldemort will not be returning."
"For all we know, he could already be here! There is no guarantee that Harry managed to-"
"You, nor anyone from the Ministry will come near the boy," McGonagall cut in sharply. "I believe Albus has made that more than clear."
There was a hint of frustration in Fudge's voice. "Really, this is quite ridiculous! I am not suggesting we imprison Harry… no, no, indeed… only that some form of caution should be taken. I stress, there is no guarantee that when he awakens he will be Harry Potter."
"He will be."
It was Hermione's voice now, quiet and deathly calm. Harry wished that he could open his eyes and assure her that she was right… he was back… but he couldn't seem to move… he could barely listen as it were…
"Yes, yes, that's right, dear," Fudge said in a condescending voice. "And you are… the girlfriend, correct?"
"It does not matter, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, a warning edge to his voice. "Because she is right. Harry will remain here. Harry will remain under Hogwarts' care. I will provide whatever protection is necessary. I will not argue this point farther…"
Feeling somewhat reassured, though somewhat confused as to what was happening, Harry allowed himself to be lulled into oblivion again… slipping out of the world… and down into a cocoon of warmth and safety…
***
Harry was aware that Hermione was in pain. He was floating, blissfully, happily, warmly… but he could hear her. He wanted desperately to reach out, assure her that he was fine, he was happier than he'd ever been, really. She had no reason to worry… none at all…
She was crying. This shocked Harry, and he tried to pull himself out of his safe cocoon in order to reach her.
Then he heard Ron's voice. This calmed him. Ron was with her… Ron would make sure she was okay…
"It's okay, Hermione," he heard Ron say. "It's only been a few days. He'll wake up. I mean, he's alive, isn't he?"
There was a loud sniffle. "But we don't know… Fudge was right, Ron. We don't know if it's him… we don't know if Voldemort… if he's going to be…"
"No, no way. Don't say that… you were certain. You reached him, Hermione. I was there… you pulled Harry back. No way is he going to let You-Know-Who win after that."
There were more cries. "I'm just so tired…."
"Hey," Ron said softly. "It's okay, Hermione. Of course you're tired. You haven't slept in days."
"Neither have you."
"Then we'll sleep together."
The comment was nearly enough to jolt Harry wide awake. He was filled with a deep desire to grab his wand, point it at Ron's throat… use the most painful curse he could…
Hermione chuckled. "Ron, are you coming on to me?"
"What?" Ron asked, completely bewildered. "No! I just asked if you…. Oh…."
Harry relaxed. Hermione's tears had slowed. Ron was there. They were both watching over him. Assured that everything was okay, Harry allowed himself to drift again. He wasn't ready yet. He wasn't nearly read yet…
***
Harry could feel her. She was everywhere. Her familiar scent, a hint of vanilla and tea and old books washed over him. Her lips were on his face, tracing over his skin. Nothing had ever felt more wonderful or soothing…
Her lips brushed his cheeks, gentle and soft, tenderly caressing him. They brushed the tip of his nose, hovered there before turning into a slight smile. She traced kisses over his eyelids, and his forehead. She pressed her lips to his scar, he could feel her warmth soothing him, washing away the pain his scar had caused him…
"Really, Hermione, you two haven't gotten back together yet!" Ron said, in an exasperated voice. "Leave the poor bloke alone, he can't very well do anything to stop you."
Her lips were gone and Harry desperately missed the contact. He tried to tell her that it was okay, he knew she was there, things would be fine…
"Nonsense, Ron," Hermione said briskly. "We got back together ages ago."
"No, you haven't!" Ron said sharply. "He's been unconscious!"
"Don't be so thick," she snapped. "We got back together. Harry just doesn't know it yet."
"Oh, well then that makes it okay, does it?"
"Yes," Hermione shot back. "It does. I don't care what he says… he's way stronger with me than without me…"
"Yes, but…" Ron trailed off, sounding annoyed. "Fine," he finally muttered. "I don't understand it, but fine. Go back to nuzzling him then. I'm just not going to watch."
Harry's heart soared when Hermione's lips began making their way across his face again. She brushed her lips to his and Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss her back… to let her know that he could hear her… that he loved her…
He still couldn't move, though he could sense her completely. Her lips went away, but her hands replaced them, smoothing over his features. She traced his mouth and his cheek lightly with her fingertips before smoothing his forehead.
In that moment Harry knew he didn't want to go away. He wanted to wake up, he wanted to kiss her back, but more than anything he wanted to tell her not to stop.
He heard footsteps and Hermione pulled away.
"Oh, don't stop on account of me," Dumbledore said lightly. "I'm sure a little bit of reassuring contact from you, Hermione, is more comfort than any kind of potion Madam Pomfrey can give him."
"Yeah," Harry heard himself say. "Don't stop."
Silence.
Harry struggled to open his eyes. He managed it, though his vision was plenty blurry. He could just make out Hermione, Ron, and Dumbledore peering down at them, mouths slightly agape.
"Err," he said nervously. "Hi…"
Silence.
Harry was beginning to imagine that he'd made the entire thing up and he was having another dream. He tried to sit up and found that it was too difficult. He settled for groping for his glasses instead, annoyed when he found he couldn't lift his arm.
"Harry?" Hermione's voice, barely a whisper, yet full of hope.
Harry grinned. "Hey," he said softly. "What did I say about not stopping?"
Then she was crushing him so hard that Harry was momentarily afraid that he wouldn't be able to breathe. Her lips were back on his face, trailing desperate kisses over his features. She was emitting little squeaking noises and whimpers, his name coming out every other syllable.
Harry tried to hug her back. Then he tried to turn his head to kiss her. Then he got very frustrated.
"Err," he managed, slightly distracted by Hermione's mouth on his face. "Why can't I move?"
Hermione pulled away from him and stared down at him. Harry squinted at her, wishing that someone would give him his glasses. "Oh!" she said sheepishly. "Um, about that…"
"You can't move for a while, Harry," Ron said bluntly. "The Ministry's afraid that You-Know-Who has permanently taken you over."
"WHAT?" Harry demanded, wishing desperately that he could at least sit up.
"Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. "I am afraid that not everyone is as certain as we are that you managed to fight Voldemort. In order to keep you here at Hogwarts…"
"We put a spell on you so you can't move," Hermione finished heavily. "Sorry."
Harry blinked. "I'm not!" he shouted. "I'm not Voldemort! I just want to sit up! I want to see! WHERE ARE MY GLASSES?"
Ron recovered first from the outburst, and placed Harry's glasses on his nose. "You know, Harry," he said. "If you don't want anyone to think you're nutters, you might want to drop the attitude."
Harry scowled, but was very much relieved when he could see everyone properly. "I'm not…"
"We know," Ron interrupted irritably. "But the problem is… no one else believes us. You gotta understand, Harry. People are terrified. All they know is that Voldemort somehow managed to threaten their children… through you."
"Well, I didn't mean for him to!" Harry snapped, angrily. "You think it was easy being possessed by Voldemort? You have no idea! There was… it was pain like I'd never felt before…." Harry trailed off when Hermione let out a small whimper. He tried to reach out a hand to reassure her and his inability to do so angered him more than anything else.
"Harry, look," Ron continued, nervously. "There's nothing that we can do. Fudge wanted to throw you into a Ministry prison. Some people even suggested Azkaban. You have to understand, none of us really knew what you were going to wake up as."
"Well, now you know! LET ME UP!"
Ron's face flushed with embarrassment and he seemed very intent at looking at the ground. "Well, that's sort of the problem," he muttered. "We don't really know for sure…"
Harry couldn't believe it. He found Hermione with his gaze. "And what about you?" he asked softly. "Do you believe that I'm Voldemort?"
Her eyes filled with tears and she chewed on her bottom lip nervously. "Of course I don't… but… Ron's right… I mean, it's just a precaution, really…"
Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh, I see."
Hermione let out a tearful sigh and Harry tried very hard not to let it effect him. Her hand smoothed over his brow, and Harry felt himself relax despite himself. Harry reluctantly opened his eyes to find her staring down at him intently.
"I know it's you," she whispered fiercely. "I would hardly go around kissing Voldermort, would I?
Harry attempted to shake his head. "No," he finally said.
"It really is just a precaution, Harry. And Ron's telling the truth, if we hadn't… well, I wasn't going to let them take you away."
Harry's heart leaped at her words. He licked at his lips, and continued to look in her eyes. "Did you mean what you said?" he finally asked, a little hoarsely. "When you said that you loved me?"
Her eyes filled with tears and she nodded.
Harry smiled widely. "I love you, too. More than anything… it was because of you that I'm… well, that I'm not… you know…"
Harry squeezed her hand and they both jumped lightly at the unexpected contact. In experimentation, he moved his arm, watching happily as it followed his request. Next he struggled to sit up, but found himself too weak to do so.
Dumbledore cleared his throat lightly. Harry, who had completely forgotten that he was in the room, turned to look at him in surprise. "Err, Professor, I don't think that your spell is working…"
"No, no," Dumbledore said quickly, eyes twinkling merrily. "It worked perfectly. You see, Harry… there is one thing that separates you and Voldermort completely. My spell recognized that, thus removing its power over you. Really quite ingenious, really."
Harry held Hermione's hand a little tighter. "Love," he whispered.
Dumbledore nodded. "The ability to love and to be loved in return. That is what makes Voldemort so purely evil. The complete absence of love…"
A connection formed in Harry's brain. "Professor," he said urgently. "Something happened… after… after I pushed Voldemort out…"
Dumbledore looked grave. "I am aware of that, Harry."
Hermione whimpered softly, and Harry turned to look at her. She looked deathly pale and was clutching his hand to the point of pain.
"What is it?" he asked gently.
Hermione just shook her head.
"We thought you were dead, Harry," Ron said bluntly. "I reckon you should have been. Your heart wasn't beating or anything. It must have been… I dunno 10 minutes, at least."
"I never…"
"You came back," Ron continued. "People were losing it all over the place. We all thought that You-Know-Who had succeeded. But then… you just started breathing again." Ron shrugged helplessly. "You've been unconscious ever since…"
"How long?"
"Five days," Hermione answered quickly.
Harry struggled to sit up again, even as he felt his heart plummeting. "Oh no," he moaned. "Quidditch… what happened?"
Ron looked hesitant. "Well… that, um… that's… there's..."
"No need to concern yourself with that, Harry," Hermione said nervously. "Hardly important, really, in the grand scheme of things…"
Harry looked back and forth between them. "What happened?"
Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Well… it's possible that… there might have been… we may have had to…"
"Yes?"
"Harry," Hermione said gently. "Gryffindor was forced to forfeit."
"Forfeit? We had to forfeit?"
Ron shifted again. "Well, we couldn't very well train a new Seeker… besides, we knew we couldn't play. Not without you there."
"What?" Harry demanded. "After all that work I did to try and catch up and you just gave up?"
Harry started when Hermione smacked him on the arm. "Harry!" she shrieked and Harry was surprised to see tears forming in her eyes. "You almost died! No one cared about Quidditch! It doesn't matter, don't you understand? It doesn't matter."
"Oh… hey…" Harry said, beginning to feel stupid. "I'm sorry… I… you're right. I know you're right. Just… please, Hermione… don't cry…"
"I'm not crying!" she snapped, beginning to rub at her eyes.
Harry reached out a hand towards her, brushing a tear out of the way with his fingertip. "It's okay…" he whispered. "See… I'm alive and here and… and hopelessly in love with you… so just don't… don't cry…"
Hermione sniffled. "I know… I just…" she blinked back tears. "When I thought I'd lost you… Harry… I love you, too… very much…"
Harry smiled. "I love you more."
Hesitantly, Hermione smiled back. "I love you more," she whispered.
"I love you more."
"I love you-"
"AHEM!" Ron cleared his throat loudly. "Thank you. I suppose it's safe to assume you've gotten back together, then?"
In response, Harry and Hermione continued grinning at each other.
Ron rolled his eyes. "That's just… great. Step up from the whole `we're just friends' dance. Really. Carry on."
Dumbledore seemed very intent at looking at the ceiling and humming. "Have we re-painted in here recently?" he asked lightly.
The three of them looked at the ceiling. It looked like it always had. Ron frowned and gave Dumbledore one of his, `You're completely mad, even if you are the most powerful wizard in the world' looks.
Dumbledore, seeing that he had their attention, smiled serenely at them all. "Ahh," he said, looking delighted. "There we are."
Harry, once again, struggled to sit up. Much to his dismay, he found that, once again, he could not manage it. There was nothing he hated more than having a serious discussion about his imminent death when he was flat on his back and helpless. It made him feel more… well… helpless.
Hermione finally seemed to notice his struggles and, grasping his arm, helped him sit up. Feeling somewhat lightheaded and weak from the movement, Harry focused his attention on Dumbledore. He was comforted when Hermione sat on the bed next to him, curling up at his side and entwining her fingers through his.
Dumbledore was watching him shrewdly. Harry hated when he did that, feeling like Dumbledore was looking right through him until he could see his most inner thoughts. "Harry, I think your version of events is the most important. Right now, there are only three people that know you have awakened. That will soon change. The wizarding world is going to be clambering to discover what occurred. Many have already released their own, private theories."
"Whatever you do," Ron said. "Don't read the Daily Prophet. Hermione and I will comb it for you."
Harry swallowed. "Am I back to being nutters?"
Ron looked embarrassed. "That's one of the… nicer… terms."
Dumbledore was still peering at him in concentration. "I have my own theory as to what happened, Harry. I know that this must be very painful for you… asking you to relive what occurred, but it is a necessity."
Instinctively, Harry reached up and pressed a hand to his scar. His head still throbbed… and he could remember all too well the pain the scar had caused him…
"It started after I was done my shepherd's pie, but before I'd started on the salad," Harry said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "My scar… it twinged a little. It'd been doing that all year and I was used to it. It was far better than the migraines I used to get when Voldemort was feeling a particularly strong emotion. It turned sharper, more like the old pain, but nothing that I wasn't used to. I just waited for it to pass. And it did, it went away."
Harry swallowed, remembering with vivid detail the way his head had exploded next, how he hadn't been able to think… how Voldemort had pushed himself in. "Then… it started again. I've only felt that kind of pain once before. In the Department of Mysteries… last time that Voldemort tried to… well, you know. When the pain subsided enough so I could think, it was too late. I couldn't do anything, I couldn't fight him, I could only watch as he took control." Harry gave a violent shudder, and Hermione pressed herself more tightly against him.
Harry absentmindedly skimmed a hand over Hermione's hair. "You know what happens next, anyway. Voldemort went after Hermione. And I knew I couldn't let him get away with it, so that's when I started to push against whatever hold he had over me. I could feel him weakening and it spurred me on, though the pain was so much at that point I couldn't understand why I was still alive.
"When Hermione told me that she loved me, I felt something well up inside me. It was different than anything I had ever felt before. Voldemort couldn't handle it. He fled, but I kept pushing. There must have been some kind of a reverse action because, next thing I knew, I wasn't… me, anymore. I was in… in Voldemort… I was there, I was in control… I could… feel everything he felt. It was cold, dark, blackness…. I couldn't take it for long, but I knew I had to keep pushing. I didn't want Voldemort to win, I wanted him to know I was strong enough to possess him in return. Anyway," Harry let out a shaky breath. "I didn't last too long. I finally let myself drift… and I don't really remember what happened after that."
Dumbledore nodded. "I suspected as much."
"Harry… are you saying…" Ron swallowed heavily. "Are you saying that you were You-Know-Who?"
"No," Harry said immediately. "I wasn't… not exactly…"
"Voldemort's plan was well constructed." Dumbledore frowned heavily, looking pensive. "He possessed Harry, in the middle of the Great Hall, at a mealtime, in hopes that I would kill Harry to protect the other students." Dumbledore sighed. "Fortunate for us, Voldemort's attempt backfired. Harry managed, however briefly, to possess Voldemort in return. Do you understand why it was so difficult to remain in control after you possessed Voldemort, Harry?"
Harry shrugged.
Hermione, who had been oddly quiet, spoke up. "The one thing Voldemort can't understand is love. And the one thing that Harry can't understand is evil. So…" she said slowly. "It was the opposite of why Voldemort couldn't maintain control over you, Harry…"
Dumbledore nodded. "A darkness such as that, Harry… it's a mere wonder you held on as long as you did. We are, however, very lucky that you did. Voldemort is, above all else, concerned primarily with his own self-interest. I do not believe that he will attempt something similar in the future."
"What if he does?" Harry whispered. "I can hardly do anything about it at the moment. I can barely keep my eyes open. If Voldemort wanted-"
"Voldemort, Harry," Dumbledore cut in gently. "Is just as incapacitated at the moment. The strength required to possess and control the mind of another wizard takes an extraordinary toll on the body. What you are suffering from now is pure mental exhaustion."
Harry nodded, his eyes growing heavy. He couldn't ever remember feeling so tired in his life. He struggled to stay awake, desperate for answers. "Professor…" he asked slowly. "Would you really kill me? If Voldemort were to ever possess me again…" Harry shivered. "I think that's what I would want."
Dumbledore's eyes bore into his own. "I don't know, Harry," he finally said softly. "I'm sorry that I don't have a better answer for you."
Harry shut his eyes, too exhausted to keep them open and nodded bleakly.
Ron's voice sounded shaky. "But… You-Know-Who won't, right? He'd be too nervous to try again…"
"I'm assuming so," Dumbledore said.
Ron gulped. "Okay. Okay, good… that's… good…"
Ron's voice blurred and Harry pressed a hand to his scar. It burned under his touch and he struggled to get past the burning headache that started behind it. "I'm passing out," he muttered.
Ron sounded worried. "You're going to go unconscious again?"
"No," Harry said, feeling dizzy. "I just think I'm about to sleep for a long time."
"Very well, Harry," Dumbledore said, standing up. "Get your rest. The world will know, soon enough, that you have awakened." His voice quieted, became gentler. "People are going to be demanding answers." Dumbledore sighed. "I'm going to contact the Ministry. Rest assured, Harry, I won't allow any of them in to visit you."
Harry didn't have the energy to make a comment. He felt himself nodding off, vaguely hearing Hermione scramble off the bed beside him. He missed her immediately, but didn't have the energy to open his eyes and tell her so. Then he was gone, letting his mind rest and sleep envelope him.
A/N: Whew. Before anyone has a chance to ask, Harry and Hermione still do have a lot to talk about. Yes, everything is out in the open and they're not going to be parting anytime soon. But things aren't magically better between them. The entirety of next chapter is going to focus solely on them and the "feelings talk."
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