DISCLAIMER: Please see Prologue Page
A/N: This is the unedited version of the Fifth Chapter - I think it's okay already. Passing by a town that looked like it had an internet café around, I looked for a chance to slip off from sight of my colleagues to release this (at least) to lessen the wait of the readers. I will know by tomorrow if my working trip will be extended for a few days and if so, there won't probably be updates until the 12th of August. I'm asking for your patience - thanks!
So I hope this chapter is already okay and without mistakes! Please kindly leave a review! Or just alert me of mistakes if there are any… thanks!
** Chapter 5 ** "Kill the Mudblood!"
Harry couldn't believe it was already morning soon after he shut his eyes for sleep. He sensed hectic activity all around him and he lifted his head to look around. Ron and the rest of his room mates were already dressed and were rushing to pack up their things before breakfast.
"What's up with you, Harry?" said Ron. He was trying to close his chest full of unfolded clothes and junk with his full weight. "Get up and pack or else you'll miss the train!"
Even though Harry had almost given up on the prospect of ever spending Christmas out of Hogwarts, he did so with the thought he might still be able to see Dumbledore at breakfast. He was resigned to the fact that whatever Dumbledore might say today, it would heavily lean towards the negative and he would have to endure three weeks without Ron and Hermione.
He did pack up and dress up anyway. He finished fairly quickly - he had only quite a few possessions to begin with. He stuffed Hedwig in her cage (much to her annoyance) and looked back on his bed to see if he left something ("What's the use - I could still be here today…") and dragged his luggage unenthusiastically toward the Great Hall for Breakfast.
Hermione was already there, surrounded by her bags of books, and beamed at Harry after seeing him with his luggage. "So he really let you go - I'm really glad for you, Harry."
Harry didn't know if he'd feel bitter or happy about it, though he forced a smile back at her. He couldn't tell them anything yet until he could really be certain after he could speak with Dumbledore. He looked at the empty Headmaster's chair for moment, which was empty.
He'll be here soon, he said to himself.
Time passed. McGonagall came and sat on her chair and started to eat breakfast.
Any time now…I'll see him.
Still time passed, and still no Dumbledore.
Feeling increasingly worried, he asked Ron as casually as he could why Dumbledore had not shown himself up to now.
"I heard he traveled to London very early this morning for some meeting," he answered back, busy spreading butter on his sliced bread. "Busy man, he is, even on Holiday vacation."
Harry gasped after hearing Ron say where Dumbledore had gone to. Then that meant he would absolutely not come back before the Hogwarts Express departed. No Dumbledore! No vacation with Ron and Hermione. He was doomed to be lonely for the next three weeks. He felt like sinking down to the floor. It was something he refused to accept but at the same time he was so furious with himself! He had to do something about it. Was there? He had to decide if he'd allow himself to suffer. Anything!
He didn't have the time to ponder at all because Professor McGonagall had tapped him on his shoulder. He quickly glanced at her, open mouthed, not knowing what to do or say at the very moment.
"You didn't see me yesterday, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall bluntly. To Harry her voiced seemed to be echoing around his brain and it sounded deafening to his ears. "I wanted to know if you had already spoken to the Headmaster. Last night he told me to talk to you before breakfast…"
No word came out of Harry's mouth. He didn't know why, but he swore he tried to shake his head at McGonagall, but what came out was a positive nod instead. She did not read Harry's look on his face.
"Ah, so you're an early bird, too, that's good. Did you fully understand his instructions?"
Again, he seemed to have lost his ability to control his locomotor function for a quick moment, and he nodded again.
McGonagall considered him for a moment (her stare didn't make Harry very comfortable at all), and broke into a smile. "Very well, then, Harry, I suggest you start eating your breakfast before you go to Hogsmeade Station. You will get hungry on the way. Happy Christmas and see you after New Year."
"Okay," he muttered, still nodding uncertainly after McGonagall left. As he looked back on the table, Harry noticed he hadn't even placed food on his plate at all. Afraid of throwing up his breakfaster later, he decided to skip it.
He had done it. He'd done something terrible as to lie to McGonagall just to spend Christmas outside Hogwarts with his friends. Sure, he would have given up the whole world for that, but what's the use of a good time if he kept on worrying about being discovered by her and Dumbledore to have sneaked off without permission and risked being suspended for dishonesty and irresponsibility?
Harry knew Dumbledore would eat his head off. He would be so angry with him he'd kick him out of disgust, literally. Suddenly staying at Hogwarts seemed like a good alternative after all.
Would he run to McGonagall and confess to her the truth? Still, she'd know he had lied and will not like it at all and ground him. The damage had been done. Then he thought maybe he could get away with it. Maybe, just maybe, Dumbledore might think McGonagall had given him the permission, and vise-versa, that they won't bother asking each other. That was a good possibility and he just might be okay, he recklessly believed.
It was amazing for Harry, that when he had snapped back to reality, he was already inside a compartment in the Hogwarts Express with Ron and Hermione as it steamed south. He could not remember ever stepping a foot on Hogsmeade, much more boarding the train and choosing seats. Hermione sat beside him, and she was looking edgily at him with deepening concern.
"Harry, you're really worrying me," she complained, "what's the matter with you?"
"Huh, what's the matter with who - what?"
"You've been moving like a robot since the Great Hall."
Ron sat on the opposite seat in front of him, looking concerned, too.
"I was?" said Harry.
"Yeah, we thought you'd be overjoyed Dumbledore letting you spend Christmas away from Hogwarts," said Ron, "but instead it looks like it came to you as a shock!"
"Oh, no, it's not that…look, I'm happy, see?" Harry said, grinning mightily. "Just thinking deeply about something, that's all. No, don't you two worry about it."
"We will if you keep acting like that all the time," said Hermione. "Is there something worrying you? Is it about the Death Eaters that might attack you?"
Harry stared at her for a moment and considered her statement. It could be the perfect alibi. He'd probably feel worse if he told them he hadn't really spoken to Dumbledore, so he chose not to - just yet. "Yeah, yeah, but they can't touch me, I assure you." He gave her another quick smile and looked away to the window, watching the countryside pass by.
"Well, okay, if you say so," shrugged Hermione (Ron, however, didn't seem convinced yet). "In case you haven't noticed an owl landing on your lap, I just got a late delivery of the Daily Prophet. This is what Ramius Palkov looks like…" she handed the paper to Harry, who was quick to grab it.
The front page sported a large moving picture of Ramius Palkov - he looked Russian, very grumpy and menacing. The picture was accompanied with the following banner story:
"Disgruntled Auror Behind Dark Mark Murders
Death Eater Wannabe's on the Run from the Law"
Harry shook his head upon reading the headline with no desire to read through the story.
"I bet they've not painted a good picture of him," he mused.
"Ergh, it's so horrid to read," said Hermione, looking disgusted. "I can't believe they could destroy the career of a good Auror with such rubbish if they wanted to - just to deny Voldemort has really returned and making him a scapegoat." She bent down to release Crookshanks, who'd been caged under her seat for a long time. "Strangely, though, it took them two days to release the story."
"I wonder where he's hiding right now," said Ron. "Do you think that's why Dumbledore left Hogwarts today?"
Hermione thought for a moment and said, ""It's possible - there could be other reasons besides that. Poor Palkov, I hope he'd clear his name in no time. But knowing Fudge, it might take more than a large scale Death Eater attack to convince him otherwise, I'd say it would take…Ow!"
Hermione quickly put a hand over her aching right temple, closing her eyes as the pain lingered. Harry and Ron just looked on at her, doing nothing, because they knew what Madam Pomfrey had told them about the headaches back at the hospital wing. It took some time for the pain in Hermione's head to subside; she breathed deeply as it went away and opened her eyes, looking ahead listlessly.
"So, you were saying, Hermione…" started Ron.
She, however, stared at Ron and looked deeply confused. "I was saying what?"
"You said Fudge would probably be convinced Palkov is innocent if he takes what?"
Hermione frowned. "What do you mean, Ronald? I wasn't talking about anything at all - I was trying to go to sleep. Wake me when we get to King's Cross, will you?" She took out a throw pillow from one of her bags and snuggled up into a corner and shut her eyes.
Ron threw a baffled look at Harry, who quickly explained in an undertone what Madam Pomfrey had told him about Hermione's occasional states of confusion. Harry assured Ron it was nothing to be really concerned about in the long run, though they both could not help it and looked at her sadly, not believing this could happen to her even if just temporarily.
"You know, Harry," Ron hissed, "you and Hermione having been really acting weird lately. It seems like you both just came down from another planet…" He shook his head sadly.
Harry just shrugged in the hope of evading having to answer to Ron what was wrong with him. What made Harry really more uncomfortable now was that this was the very first time he had seen Hermione confused, and it was an unpleasant experience, especially for him. Even if he sounded sure about explaining to Ron how impermanent Hermione's condition was, he still had lingering doubts whether it will stick with her or not. He had so many things going on in his mind to start with; he felt suddenly sick upon witnessing Hermione's confounded condition.
Somber was the prevailing mood inside their compartment all the way to King's Cross. In each and every train ride they had, Ron always proposed either to Harry or Hermione to play some wizard games or exploding snap with him to kill time, but not this time. Ron somehow felt things might be totally different from now on, and already missed the usual activities they had as a trio. Upon seeing Ron's face, Harry made a mental note to talk to him about it at the Burrow at the right time.
The Hogwarts Express arrived at King's Cross later at almost three o'clock in the afternoon. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys fought through the crowd of overeager Hogwarts students who'd been jamming the barrier to the Muggle World. When they emerged from the barrier after much flowing and squeezing along with the crowd, Harry saw Arthur and Molly Weasley standing together waiting for their children. To their right were Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who also traveled to the station to pick up Hermione.
Harry suddenly felt a bit uneasy after seeing the Grangers, who were now hugging and kissing Hermione. He didn't know why he was so, because he was supposed to be happy seeing the Grangers reunited after so many months of being away from each other.
Maybe it was the fact that Harry considered it was likely Mr. and Mrs. Granger was completely unaware what their only daughter had been through in the last term. He felt a bit of sadness - if he had not done anything right or if Hermione had not been lucky enough to escape certain death from the Dragon or the Oarling, he would probably see a different scene today - Hermione's parents waiting for a daughter that will never materialize again at the barrier. That would be a pretty sad scene.
The Grangers probably thought all was well in their daughter's alternate world, and whether Hermione would tell them what was really going on and what had actually happened to her, he never knew. However, he had faith in Hermione that she could handle her affairs quite excellently, given that she was the brightest witch of her age, and has shown bravery and wit when confronted with extreme danger.
Yet there was another reason for Harry's sudden sadness, and this time he knew what it was. This meant Hermione could not be with him this Christmas at all…
"Hello, Harry," said Mr. Granger jovially. "How was your last term? Great, I hope."
Harry had then snapped back to reality. Hermione and her parents were in front of him now, smiling at him.
"Oh, er, it was - adventurous, sir, thank you," he said, managing to collect a few words and give him a big smile back.
"Hermione talks a lot about you," Mrs. Granger said as she hugged Hermione. "Don't you, dear?" Hermione blushed, and was too abashed to look at Harry.
Hermione then faced her parents. "I'm going to say goodbye to Harry and the Weasleys, Mum and Dad," she said excitedly. "I'll be back." She grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him towards were Molly Weasley was brushing off unseen dust from the coat of a melting Ron.
"Glad you could come with us to the Burrow, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley happily, hugging Harry as he stopped in front of her. She then gave a big smile and a hug to Hermione. "I see you have your parents with you, Hermione. Have a happy Christmas, won't you?"
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, I will," she said. She waved everyone goodbye, and pulled Harry back towards her parents. Halfway back, she stopped to talk to him.
"I'm really glad you'll be enjoying your vacation, Harry. I'm sorry if I ever tried to prevent you from having one before. And I really feel bad for ever doubting our relationship - I really am."
Harry breathed and smiled. "Hermione, please don't apologize - you didn't prevent me at all. You just told me to think reasonably and…I thank you for that." Harry had another wave of guilt coming upon saying this, because Hermione never knew he was actually out of Hogwarts without Dumbledore's knowledge. His eyebrows furrowed again.
Hermione looked concerned seeing the look on his face, and looked up closer to Harry's eyes. "Harry, what's wrong?" she said gently.
"Well," he hesitated, and glanced edgily at Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were waiting patiently for Hermione. "I kind of thought all the time you'd be spending Christmas with me…I mean, us at the Burrow. I've been looking forward to it all along…"
Hermione groaned and then looked anxiously at Harry, who looked slightly silly with his pouting lips.
"Actually, I wanted to, Harry," she said tentatively, looking for the right words to say to him. "But you see," - she sighed - "I haven't been with my parents for three Christmases and I didn't want them to feel lonely this year…"
Harry realized this, and he was mad with himself for not thinking about it. He hoped he didn't look insensitive in front of Hermione. Regaining himself he said, "Oh, no, I didn't mean to sound - I-I know that, no question about it, you really need to be together" - he paused - "but I wish you told me sooner, because all the while I believed we'll be together, er, with Ron. But don't worry, I understand -"
Hermione's cheeks went red, and she was ashamed at Harry for not telling him sooner. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," she said like she was about to cry. "I guess I just forgot! I really did…" She gazed at him, and the look of her eyes effectively magnified the regret she felt. Deep inside, she would have loved to spend time with Harry, too.
This gave Harry even more reason to feel bad about causing Hermione untold stress. "No - no, please, don't worry about it…I didn't mean to sound very, uhm, reproachful…"
Hermione chuckled, now amused at how discomfited Harry seemingly was in front of her (which she thought was cute). Of course, Harry could have never guessed Hermione thought that way at the moment and was puzzled as to why she became very giggly.
"Hermione," called Mrs. Granger. They both snapped their heads towards Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were patiently beckoning Hermione that it was time to go. Harry and Hermione looked back at each other again and they both laughed softly, feeling awkward - or better yet, mushy - again.
"I guess I'll see you again before the new term," said Harry quietly. "Promise you'll be okay?"
"Of course I'll be okay, Harry, but thanks," she assured, feeling happy Harry was showing much concern to her. "It's me who should ask you that - after all, it's you who's Voldemort is after, isn't it? Please do be careful. Wait…"
Her eyes went round for an instant after remembering something, and rummaged in her handbag. "Harry, I want to you to have this, something that will at least help you imagine I'm always with you this Christmas." She handed him a very nice moving picture of her and Harry beamed. For Harry, a simple thing like a picture was like the most valuable thing she could give him for life.
"You can annoy me in the picture if you feel like it," Hermione laughed softly. She looked at Harry's eyes again very fondly. "I don't mind."
"Th-thank you, Hermione," said Harry breathlessly. "but…but I don't have anything with me to give you."
"That's no problem," she assured him. "You wait here…"
Hermione ran over to a bewildered Ron, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him near where Harry stood. Harry and Ron exchanged baffled looks but then Hermione called to her mother, "Mum, could you…"
Mrs. Granger didn't need any further telling; she took out an impressive looking Muggle camera, and pointed it to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Hermione threw both her arms around Harry and Ron's shoulders, pulled them closer warmly with their cheeks almost touching, and they smiled.
Snap!
"Enjoy your Christmas, Ron and Harry!" she said cheerfully, skipping backward to her parents and waving her hand. "Love you lots! We'll send Owls, okay?"
They waved back to her and her parents; Ron now put an arm around Harry's shoulder and grinned at him. Harry was still unwilling to let go of Hermione, but he finally accepted the fact that she won't be around with them this Christmas.
Ron steered Harry back happily to his family, who were now excitedly waiting for them. It was always a great feeling for Harry to be in the company of a very caring family, and it now allowed him to look forward to an enjoyable Christmas with no amount of worry about Voldemort, Death Eaters, (or Dumbledore, oddly) could ever dampen what he felt at that moment.
Except, or course, Hermione's absence.
-o0o-
The Burrow looked the same like Harry had last seen it since he made an unscheduled visit weeks ago, but not in a bad way. It still looked beautiful to him as they approached the house from the road as they rode the couple rented taxis from King's Cross Station. However strongly Ron lamented about the bad shape the Burrow was in, it was still home for him and for Harry, and the Weasley family would've probably never be the same without it. Harry was very glad everything came back to normal for Ron's family after Mr. Weasley was disgraced in the Ministry of Magic because of Lucius Malfoy's reprehensible plot. If not, they would have lost the Burrow from further poverty (Arthur had mulled selling off the property when he voluntarily resigned from his job).
Everybody got off the taxi cabs, and they walked inside the Burrow to the living room; Ginny spun around with glee of being back home again at last and dove back on her favorite couch as her father smiled down at her. Fred and George, however, acted businesslike, both speaking in undertones as they walked up the crazy staircase probably to continue working on with their inventions. Molly looked at the twins from behind with usual suspicion, and her eyes followed them up until they disappeared from view.
Harry laughed quietly, and looked around the sitting room; it only seemed like yesterday when Arthur gave him, Ginny, and Hermione a very hot sermon on hopping on to a very deadly adventure, at the same couch Ginny was sitting on reading a cookbook.
"Nice to be back, isn't it?" Ginny glowed. "I really thought I'd never enjoy living in the Burrow again. Well, if you ask me, our last experience taught me how to really value the house I've grown up in all my life in."
Harry smiled at her in concurrence; he was happy for them. Though at the present he considered Hogwarts and the Burrow as home, he wondered how it would feel like going back to a house he had lived with his parents for many years. He had always wished for that life that was supposed to have been if it weren't for Voldemort's crime. He may have had a happier life compared to this one, and he thought he'd probably have the same friends, acquaintances, and probably enemies - that was perfectly possible. But destiny itself had its own head - the life he had come to accept now and the people he felt lucky to have known might not be the same ones anymore. So Harry chose to count the blessings that came his way, and he was already fortunate to have been very close to the Weasleys, Hermione, and probably the coolest people in the world to him.
"Dinner will come at seven, everyone!" announced Molly, and she turned to Harry. "Your bed is ready, Harry. Why don't go up and have a rest first and I'll call you down for dinner."
Harry smiled as he thanked Mrs. Weasely. He was amused of how sure she was that he'd be spending Christmas with them when he himself almost got left behind at Hogwarts. Then Ron said, "C'mon, Harry, let's bring our stuff up our room."
They heaved their luggage up to Ron's room, which was at the uppermost floor. Panting from all the pulling, they both slumped lazily on their comfy beds.
"Who else is coming home for Christmas, Ron?" Harry asked.
"Only Charlie, I guess."
"Oh, where's Percy?"
Ron grunted. He looked irked when he heard Percy's name. "Probably licking Fudge's boots to shine as we speak," Ron said bitterly. "He was at Hogwarts with Fudge a couple of nights ago, didn't you know?"
Harry couldn't recall. He had not heard Fudge mention his name, at least. He shook his head. "Was he?"
Ron grunted again. "He was Weaselby - he's sometimes Williby, or Weatherbee. Fudge can't remember his proper name, at all, and Percy thinks Fudge can't live without him. Harry, I'd rather not talk about Percy, okay? He's done something bad to the family lately and it's a big source of stress for us."
"Okay," said Harry slowly. "Sorry about bringing him up."
"Don't be silly, Harry," Ron laughed, throwing him a pillow on the face. "Hey, can I have a go with the Firebolt again, Harry?"
Harry readily agreed because he had not ridden it for a long time, and they walked back downstairs with Ron carrying the broom. As they did, Harry passed by Percy's room at the narrow hall; the door was open and he couldn't get hold of himself so he made a quick peek inside. It was now virtually bare except for a desk, chair, a bookcase full of spell books, and a very neatly made bed.
The last time he had been inside Percy's room was days ago when he was nursed for his injured ankle by Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. Harry speculated that Percy had gone off on his own. Ron seemed to act bitter about his brother, and Harry thought the family may be, as well. So he made it a personal point not to bring the subject up with the Weasleys anymore, fearing it might spark something bad out of them.
Down at the backyard, Harry sat at the picnic table and he squinted as the low afternoon sun hit his eyes while watching Ron zip by like a red blur with his Firebolt despite the chilly winter air. Harry thought Ron was now getting rather good at it.
As cramped as the backyard as it was, he zipped between, rolled around, and avoided every object on the way of his path (and not getting too high over the tall hedges at the same time to avoid being seen by Muggles). Ron even playfully snatched Harry's glasses off his face, and when Harry had just barely noticed his eyesight had blurred because it was missing, Ron had turned back and returned it properly on its right place with no sign of damage.
"Don't hesitate to call our help if Ron gets too annoying, Harry," said Fred as he approached him with George, his head following Ron's flight path. "We're allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts now, as we're seventh year."
"We could curse our dear old brother of any spell we know with our heart's delight," said George, inhaling the air very deeply.
"I heard that!" Harry heard Ron say at the same time a whooshing sound went past him.
The twins then sat with him at the picnic table. Fred carried something wrapped in a hanky, which caught Harry's attention. "What's that you got there?" asked Harry.
"This is the pocket portkey we borrowed from you, Harry," replied Fred. "We've discovered every nuts and bolts to it and we're now returning it to you."
"Thanks to you," added George, bowing low, "we could now produce our very own models."
"Until we could make sense out of all the figures we gathered on it, at least," Fred said further. "What's more, we found out you'd been had, my friend."
"What do you mean I've been had?" said Harry, perplexed. Fred and George nudged each other and laughed.
"You paid for this, didn't you? You actually paid more than what you're getting. We know every pocket portkey must have at least an even number of uses on them. They have to be even. The guy who sold it to you said you can only use it three times, didn't he? So who in his right mind would use the Portkey a third time and then worry how to get back where he came from the next?"
Harry nodded, now getting the twins' logic.
"Well, we discovered a way to unlock its full potential - you can actually use this up to six times. Well, four actually, now that you've used it twice…"
"Wow! That's great, guys, thanks!" said Harry cheerfully. "Actually, it was a huge bargain. I only paid four Galleons."
"Only four Galleons," repeated Fred faintly. "Only four Galleons he says. That's a fortune, Harry!"
"Compared with the Thirty Galleons the bartender charged us first?" Harry pointed out. "Four is an unbelievable bargain. Our friend Willard helped us haggle with the price."
Upon hearing that, he saw the twins look blankly ahead, their faces written with expressions of heavy expectation, and their blue eyes looked like it was glinting with gold from Harry's view.
"C'mon, we've got very serious work to do," Fred told his twin. They thanked Harry again for the favor, and then they ran off back to the Burrow.
As Harry examined his Portkey, he then remembered Willard, the stranger who helped him and Ron from a very difficult situation. It would be nice to pop in at his little hotel again for a visit, he thought. Except for the letters he sent to Willard, he hadn't personally thanked him for his generosity.
He'd probably be surprised and glad to see us during this holiday season, he thought.
Only that he remembered Hermione again and wished she was spending time with them at the Burrow now, because he would have loved to bring her to Willard to be introduced - he did make a small promise he'd meet her at one point. Feeling it was just a missed opportunity, unfortunately, he nevertheless decided he'd use the restored Portkey to pay him a visit soon. He'd talk about it with Ron, who might be willing to go with him, too, and perhaps they could set a date and time for it.
Dinner had arrived later and with true Molly Weasley fashion. Harry wasn't disappointed with the food; it was roasted chicken, heavily buttered mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and sumptuous lasagna for tonight. Everything tasted delicious that Harry didn't know what food to concentrate on. Molly promised of more good things to come for the next few days, and Harry wondered how he'd look like after three weeks were up. Feeling heavier than he was half an hour ago, he felt sleepy, and started to walk up the stairs with Ron to clean themselves up for the night.
"Don't forget to brush your teeth, Ronald!" Molly shrieked from the first floor amid the sound of laughter from Fred, George, and Ginny. Ron grumbled all the way up the top of the stairs.
Harry slumped on his bed chest down while Ron did brush his teeth at the bathroom. He then carefully looked around behind him. Making sure Ron was nowhere in sight, and reached for Hermione's picture hidden under the mattress. He didn't understand why all of a sudden he missed looking at her face and yearned for her company even more.
He sighed as Hermione in the moving picture wiggled her nose at him.
"You look real cute, don't you?" he whispered, and Hermione moved sheepishly sideways, flattered at what he said.
Then the familiar guilt that came with each thought of her coursed through his chest again. She was just his best friend, and he felt he didn't have the right to desire her. He then thought it would probably prove detrimental to the little trio he had formed with her and Ron if he ever had a romantic relationship with Hermione. Harry closed his eyes again tightly and laughed softly.
Romantic relationship?
Now, where did that come from? Why did he think of that now, like it would come in his future? This was just like back at the lake in Hogwarts, and he almost told her that he dreaded not seeing her eyes anymore if she truly died. Well, that was slightly true of course. Her eyes did look pretty when he looked at the picture again. The real thing would be even much prettier. Harry then sighed upon remembering the feeling he got when Hermione hugged him when she cried along the corridors at Hogwarts…it was extremely wonderful. Then the same guilt came back again to him pretty quickly.
He heard the door to the bathroom open, and he quickly hid the picture back under his mattress. This wasn't the right time Ron would find out about this yet.
"You allright, there, Harry?" said Ron, smiling. "Anyway, thanks for the ride with the Firebolt - I didn't know I could do things with it I can't imagine doing with Fred's broom."
"You're welcome, Ron," said Harry. He turned upright on his bed, glad that Ron came up with some ideas to talk about. He then remembered to discuss his idea with Ron about visiting Willard, which he found very exciting.
"How about tomorrow, Harry, right after lunch? Mum and Dad won't be home then. We could sneak off and get back before dinner."
"Yeah, that sounds real great," Harry said, now looking forward to their little excursion. "I think I'm gonna have to go to sleep now. G'night!" With a long yawn, Harry turned himself back chest down, leaving Ron to open his favorite book about the Chudley Cannons.
Harry suddenly lost his sleepiness, because he now remembered to worry about what an incensed Dumbledore might say to him. It looked like he hadn't come back at Hogwarts up to now because it seemed he had not known he was missing yet. Otherwise, he probably had gotten a Howler demanding him to explain why he's in the Burrow when he was supposed to be at Hogwarts this afternoon already. Even so, Harry expected Dumbledore will still know soon enough. He thought worrying now wasn't doing any good; he was already in hot water anyway, so he shook his mind and looked for anything else to think about - maybe something happy.
Then Hermione's face came vividly in. Now that was something happy. He sighed. He couldn't help but think of her, too, and he couldn't now deny he had a budding infatuation with his best friend. If embarking on a romantic affair with her might be dangerous for this trio, then perhaps dreaming - just dreaming about her - won't hurt. He closed his eyes and then he gradually drifted off to sleep.
Only that the dream he wanted didn't come as he hoped for.
-o0o-
Harry was standing on a dark-colored stone floor, in a room surrounded with four shadowy walls as far as the eye could see. He walked a few feet, hoping to get to at least one of them. The floor did roll below him, but the walls did not seem to come nearer at all. Then he ran. It didn't help a bit - he was moving in slow motion. Maybe there was a way out - the feeling was already drowning him - like he felt he could go on forever.
He then heard voices - and laughter from afar. Harry steered himself to the direction of the sounds hoping to find anybody there who might lead him the way out. As he gained ground, the voices became clearer - their words more pronounced. He had heard that voice before several times. It was Voldemort, and his voice became louder, the words uttered appeared repetitious and he could now understand what he was saying.
"…Kill the Mudbood…Kill the Mudblood…"
His heart sank. He thought of the obvious.
He had to do something to stop it. He ran further, until he chanced upon an old wardrobe cabinet the materialized out of thin air and standing in front of him.
"Kill the Mudblood…"
Harry had to open the wardrobe to see who was inside it - he felt like he knew who was in there. He didn't want to, but he had to know.
"Open it, Harry!" said Voldemort, laughing mirthlessly.
"No, it couldn't be…please don't let it be her…"
He reached for the knob and turned it slowly. He braced himself of what was to come, dreading it. "Please let it be just a boggart," he prayed. Then what he saw made him yell.
Professor Russelpunk was dead, very pale and hanging on a gallow apparently of his own making inside the cabinet. His eyes and mouth hang open as if what he saw last was the most fearsome thing he had ever seen.
"The Mudblood is dead!" and he heard more mirthless laughter echoing throughout…
"Harry, Harry, wake up!" said Ron sleepily. "You're having another of one of your nightmares again."
Harry woke up and popped upright from his bed. His scar hurt again, though it wasn't painful enough and he didn't press it with a hand. "I-I saw Russelpunk dead, Ron," he panted.
Ron, however, didn't look shocked. Instead he said thoughtlessly, "Good, tell me how tomorrow morning." He then got back on his bed and instantly snored.
Harry looked at Ron exasperatedly, laid his head back on his pillow, and pressed his palms against his face. He had been dreaming things that turned real forever, though not all. It could have just been a product of his imagination because, well, he thought he'd never care about what happened to Russelpunk - he was only his teacher since the last term.
Still, Harry allowed himself to feel relieved for a moment. He actually thought it was Hermione in the dresser. He thought Voldemort had found out about his feelings with her and he had been planning to take her away from him forever. Fortunately, this it wasn't the case.
However, seeing Russelpunk dead in a probable premonition he thought that by doing nothing for him he might fully regret it later on because it was still a human life that may be in mortal danger. And every life was precious unlike Voldemort believed.
What was it with these bloody dreams? What can he do? He knew he can't just write a note to Russelpunk and simply say, "Good morning sir. Oh, by the way, don't kill yourself next with a rope tied around your neck!"
With both of them so far away from each other, Harry could only hope Russelpunk was all right and that it was not a vision of something that's already happened at the present. He was already too anxious to know already this time of night that he found it very difficult to fall back to sleep.
-o0o-
Harry did fall asleep.
The first thing he did in the morning after he woke up was to take out a piece of parchment from his chest and began writing anyway. He had to know how Russelpunk was. He paused for a moment, and decided not to make his letter direct. He thought of a way, now that he was thinking more clearly than in the middle of the night.
Dear Professor Russelpunk,
Hello, I hope you're fine. I thought I'd list some possible spells that you would consider including in our lessons after the New Year. I'll list it down in the next parchment before I'd forget them again. If you get this list, please send back a reply with Hedwig, my snowy owl.
Harry Potter
After looking up at least ten good spells he'd personally want to learn from a spell book he found in Percy's room, he prodded Hedwig awake to tell her who to deliver the letter to.
"Make sure he writes back, and if he's dead, return the letter to me quickly," he instructed. "Off you go, now." Hedwig obliged and flew off with the envelope.
Harry didn't take off his sight of Hedwig until she disappeared over the horizon. He didn't know where Russelpunk lived, or if he had stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas. Since he was a Muggle, he'd probably had to want spending his holidays in the Muggle world.
Harry spent most of his morning hours waiting for Hedwig to come back, but it was now after lunch and there was still no sign of her. Resigned to that fact that he'd get a reply from the Professor (hopefully) after he came back from visiting Willard, he looked for Ron. Ron was ready to go - he made sure that his parents were already away (Mr. & Mrs. Weasley went off to visit some friends at London).
Only Ginny was at home besides Harry and Ron, and she was also in to the plan. If ever Mr.& Mrs. Weasley wondered where they been off to, she'd just simply say, "Ron's secret place".
Harry and Ron put on their robes over their thick clothes; Harry then took out his Pocket Portkey - it was a replica of a zippo lighter - and concentrated hard of the very spot he wanted to pop out on. He then turned the knob slowly thrice. After six seconds they felt the usual tug of the Portkey, flew along the length of the swirling grey-colored twister within, and seconds later they landed softly on a hearth rug in the middle of the hotel's small lobby.
"I think we're here," said Ron, recognizing the furniture and decorations of Willard's small, but cozy hotel. However, the lobby was eerily empty - dark and quiet. The few round dining tables had not been cleaned up (used bottles were still on them) and the couches and chairs were haphazardly arranged.
Ron looked at Harry with a frown on his face and said, "Harry, why the lobby? There could have been Muggles around…"
"Sorry," said Harry, shrugging. "This is the only part of the hotel I remember pretty well." He looked around. "D'you think he's home?"
"I suppose," replied Ron, walking a little deeper in the hotel slowly. "He didn't have any customers around when we came here to begin with…"
Harry looked for the way towards the kitchen and called, "Hello? Hello, anybody home?" No answer.
They felt increasing disappointed after they kept calling for anyone without any response.
"Seems no one's home…" said Ron, but he paused when he heard brisk footsteps coming from the kitchen. "Oh, I think that's him," he smiled to Harry. The door opened slowly. Expecting to see Willard emerging from the door, they grinned at that direction.
But what Harry saw made him lose his grin abruptly.
It wasn't Willard - it was someone else - a man he didn't recognize. He was pointing a wand at them, moving forward, looking determined to kill!
"RON! It's an attack!"
Ron didn't need telling twice. They both dove under the tables at the same time as a violent spell zipped past over their heads (almost changing where they parted their hair) and hitting an object somewhere behind them that fell and broke on the floor with a loud crash.
Believing this wasn't a warm welcome at all, Harry drew his wand out of his robe though he wasn't sure if it was safe to perform magic without being expelled and if this little situation fell under the conditions of being under mortal danger. One thing was for sure, he'd use if he was forced to.
Under the tables, Harry and Ron saw the feet of the wizard move closer to where they hid, and they expected next he was about to destroy the table top above to expose them. "Harry, we're sitting ducks here..." Ron said urgently but as quietly as he could.
Harry looked in his eyes, nodded once, and glanced up the underside of the table. Ron nodded back after he got the message. With tightened faces, they got ready.
When the wizard moved in close enough and started muttering a new spell, they grabbed and lifted the table by its legs, lunging towards him using the table for protection, and rammed him like a speedy bulldozer. This knocked the wizard painfully backward off his feet, and they all fell to the floor in heap. While the wizard was pinned on the floor by the table with Harry and Ron adding more weight to it, Harry heard the soft clatter of a wand and saw it roll away!
Taking the opportunity to disarm the wizard, Harry sprang up after it. However, the wizard had seen him and grabbed his ankle, making Harry fall down on the floor! The wand was almost within his reach, but he could only grasp thin air as the wizard fought to prevent him from taking the wand, yelling from all the effort.
Ron came to Harry's rescue and smashed a small bottle on the wizard's wrist of the hand that held on to Harry, making him howl in pain and release his grip. Finally free, Harry crawled hurriedly a little further, scooped the loose wand off the floor, pointed it back to the wizard, and yelled at Ron to move back to a safer spot.
"Please…please don't hurt us!" said the wizard painfully, his voice shaking. He slowly slid off the table on top of his chest. "We've done nothing wrong with you, please!"
"Don't you dare make any sudden moves or I'll jinx you," shouted Harry, slightly panting. "Who are you? Where's Willard?"
"P-please leave us alone!" At last Harry saw the face of the wizard as the table finally slipped off towards the floor. There he was, shaking, lying on his back on the floor, and looked back and forth to Harry and Ron who were flanking him on both sides. He looked unkempt like he had been in a mess for several days.
"Stay on the floor!" Ron warned when the wizard tried to lift his body to sit up, and he obeyed. He still looked scared and laid back flat on his back with the force of Ron's shoving foot.
"Who are you stranger?!?" asked Harry again.
"I-I'm Steve, S-Steve Wraskon," he said, shaking. "You know who I am. Y-you're D-Death Eaters, aren't yeh?"
"Of course not! Do we look like Death Eaters to you?" said Ron, looking extremely insulted.
Steve suddenly looked perplexed. "T-then you didn't come back here to get her?"
"Get who?" asked Harry, still pointing Steve's wand at him. "We came here to pay Willard a visit - and you came out to attack us!" Harry wiped his arm once over his sweaty forehead, and Steve's eyes went round when he saw his scar.
"Good Lord! Y-you must be Harry Potter!" Steve said, pointing at the scar and sounding slightly relieved. "Please, I'm not your enemy, Mr. Potter, I-I was just afraid you were Death Eaters coming back and I tried to defend her." Harry, however, didn't trust Steve yet and kept on pointing the wand at him.
"Who the bloody hell are you talking about?" yelled Ron. "Who's her?"
"My daughter. Stephanie."
"Stephanie?!?" repeated Harry and looked at Ron, who also recognized the girl's name as Willard's favorite niece. "Then you must be…"
"Willard's younger brother…" Steve finished Harry's sentence for him.
"So, then, where's Willard?" asked Harry, lowering the wand slowly.
"Uncle Willard's gone," said a sad girl's voice softly from the door.
Harry snapped his head towards her direction. He saw young Stephanie for the first time. She was clinging on the edge of the doorway tightly, and she looked like she hadn't fixed herself up for days like her father.
"The Death Eaters have him."
-o0o-
Next chapter: "Death Eaters Attack"