Unofficial Portkey Archive

She really was quite beautiful Harry thought to himself; though looking at her caused him to shudder down to the core of his being. Her eyes were so strange and vaguely hypnotic. They were completely black, but there was a blue fire burning in them. It was like looking at twin candles. He also uncomfortably noticed that she was something akin to perfection, though twisted in a way that made Harry yearn for escape. Her dark wings stretched from her back like an abrupt shadow. In spite of their imposing appearance they moved with a quiet and fluid grace. Harry hated to admit it, but he was glad the demon that came was not his. If it was the beast, he was sure that both he and the old man would already be in the process of being devoured.

She opened her mouth and her teeth were pearl white, but had a strange jaggedness to them. After a moment Harry realized that he had seen teeth like that before. They were not meant for chewing, they were meant for tearing flesh from the bone. At the moment her attention was focused on the man. Harry was grateful for that as well.

"I see you have disobeyed me, Loomis. I am quite displeased. What do you think I should do about that?"

Her voice sounded sweet and almost kind; a stark contrast to the words that were coming from her mouth.

"Please, I was going to take care of it, but I found this boy here. He distracted me. It was his fault… it was his fault!"

The old man was pointing at Harry and speaking in a note of sheer panic. The demoness turned and looked at Harry. She quickly scanned him from top to bottom. She then turned back to Loomis.

"A weak excuse at best. I have a wonderful idea. Would you like to hear it?"

The old man had fallen to his knees. He was quickly fading into hysterics. As he spoke drool and spittle were coming from his mouth.

"No, no! Please! I… I just need another chance. I beg you. I BEG YOU!"

Harry started to feel a small degree of revulsion for the man at this point, but tried hard to recognize that he was speaking out of abject horror.

"I believe that you shall have a new demon to torment you Loomis. I think I will exchange the boy here for you. His demon will enjoy prey that can't run very well."

The man was stooping to a completely prone position. He was so terrified that he could no longer even speak. All that came from his mouth were fragmented groans. Harry had a bad feeling about what was going to happen next. The demoness turned to Harry and smiled a warm smile. The firelight in her eyes changed from dark blue to a soft red. She lifted her hand up and held her finger and thumb together. With a snap the tension in the room was shattered.

The door, which was halfway open, had been torn from its hinges. The beast that had been chasing Harry was now in the room. However, its target was no longer him. The thing was as big as a horse and as wide as a large barrel. Its immense head had freakishly large eyes and when its mouth opened there were two full rows of teeth. Blood and slobber were stringing from its tongue. It was a thing of pure muscle and violence. Harry barely had a chance to turn his head away when the thing began tearing into Loomis's body. Harry felt his stomach turn and he had to choke back as the room was filled with the sound of unholy screaming and flesh and bone, snapping and tearing.

After a few minutes it was finally over. Loomis was silent and the beast without pause simply left the room. Harry turned back and there was nothing left but husks of skin and cracked bone. Blood was everywhere and had even splattered onto Harry's clothes. He looked toward the woman and she was still staring with a sweet smile at him. The dichotomy of the whole scene was a psychological assault on his senses. He could do nothing but stand there trembling and wait for whatever was to come next.

"My name is Angelia and what would yours be?"

Harry thought about lying, but decided that might be stupid.

"Harry. My name is Harry."

"Yes, I thought it might be. Well my handsome, young Harry. You look sweet enough to devour. Hmmm, perhaps later. Oh, yes I found this on a lovely pile of bones down the hall a ways. Does it belong to you?"

Harry could scarcely breathe. His wand was there in her hand. If only she would let him have it. With it, he was sure he could escape from all of this; somehow.

"Yes, it's my wand."

"Do you want it?"

Harry hesitated, "Yes, please. I would like it very much."

She began to gently wave it back and forth. Her smoldering eyes never leaving Harry.

"I will give it you, on one condition. Kiss me."

"What?!" Harry startled, "I mean… what?"

She laughed a deep, throaty laugh. When she did Harry felt a bit weak in the knees.

"You heard me human. In my world, things only come to those who are headstrong and brave."

Harry was in a strange quandary. He desperately wanted his wand back, but he realized that this was most likely a trick of some kind and that he would seriously regret kissing a demon. However, her lips were strangely inviting. He wondered what they tasted like.

"Like peppermint candy," she replied.

Harry's thoughts imploded. He realized just how much danger he was in. She could read his mind. She took a step towards him and her long skirt and black tunic shimmered and changed. In their place was a perfect set of Hogwart's robes. She took another step forward and her wings shimmered and then disappeared. Another step forward and her long, black hair shimmered. Now, it was an earthy, honey-brown color. She was right next to Harry and he was transfixed. Her face was so close to his. Her skin shimmered and there in her place was Hermione. Sweet, gentle, pretty, smart, wonderful Hermione… Harry wanted to kiss her so bad that all sane thought was gone from him.

"Please kiss me Harry. You know I've always loved you. I want you to love me too. Please," her voice was even just right.

Harry was not sure how it happened, but here in front of him was Hermione. She had finally come. She had come to save him from this awful place. She was going to take him away and keep him safe.

"Yes, yes Hermione I do love you. I do. I love you. Always…"

Harry could smell her and it was like fresh strawberries. He reached his hand out and touched her hair. He had always wanted to touch it. He could never understand why she did not like it. It was a little bit bushy, but Harry liked that about her. It made her seem more human to him. After all it was a part of her. He had almost forgotten how many times he could pick her out of a crowd, because of her hair. It was her mark. Just like he had his mark; his scar that would always make him stick out from the crowd. Harry put his arms around her and pulled her even closer. She felt so soft. He looked into Hermione's eyes and saw… dancing flames.

Harry pulled back so roughly that he knocked the demoness to the ground. He was sure he was going to pay for that. She picked herself up and her whole person shimmered back into her true form. She was beautiful, but no matter what she did to herself, she would never be Hermione. She looked at Harry for a moment and then held out his wand.

"You can have it anyway. It holds no power over me, so I see no harm in it."

Harry took the wand and then took a step back.

She sighed, "The eyes are the thing you see. A demon can take any shape or form they choose, but when they try and become human the eyes always give us away. You know, windows to the soul and all. After all, I'm a demon. I have no soul. Remember that Harry. Remember it well."

He had almost done the unthinkable. He had almost kissed the demoness. In that act he felt he would have betrayed his Hermione. He would never let that happen again. Angelia turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. Harry turned to look around and realized the room was back to normal. Loomis was gone, but otherwise it was just as it was, before hell came knocking at the door.

--- ---

Ron awoke when the morning sun came streaming into the room. It was not quite home, but it sure was a lot more comfortable. He got up and threw his clothes on as fast as he could. He opened the door and started downstairs. Luna was already waiting for him. She was wearing a bright yellow shirt and a pair of black pants that came down to just below the knee. She almost looked normal in it he thought.

"You should have woken me up." Ron said to her.

"I didn't want to wake you. I was enjoying just looking at you."

"Oh," said Ron, "Hey wait a minute. You were watching me?"

"I couldn't sleep," she explained, "so, I came into your room and just sat there, making sure you were alright."

Ron was once again completely stupefied by her behavior.

His voice came out half-strangled. "You can't just barge in on me and look at me whenever you bloody well want to Luna! I have to be honest; you're kinda freaking me out a bit."

"Why?" she replied simply.

"Why?! I don't know, you just do alright. Oh, forget about it. Let's just go." His voice was exasperated, but he tried to keep from yelling at her. For some reason, he thought it might upset her.

He noticed that she had a large bag on the floor. It seemed to be full of all kinds of things, but it was closed tightly and he could not make out what any of the shapes were.

"So, what's in the bag?"

"Oh, just some things. Like, some of my father's books, a picture of my mum, some odds and ends, and a Carpathian Sacrificial Blood Knife, in case I need to perform a bloody sacrifice on you, so you can get into the next life and go after Harry and Hermione."

"A WHAT?! DO WHAT?!"

Luna began to giggle, "Oh, Ron I'm just kidding. Stop being so paranoid."

"Stop being so paranoid?! This coming from you?!"

Luna marched right up to Ron and kissed him full on the lips. She slid her hand down and tugged at the hem of his pants.

"Be good, or I won't let you see me naked later."

"Wh…wh…what…what?"

As she picked up the bag and started out the door she said in a very motherly tone, "For goodness sakes Ron. I… am… kid-ding. Now, hurry up or we're going to be late."

"Late? … Late for what?"

Ron sulked as he went out the front door and closed it behind him. Why am I doing this? What is wrong with this stupid girl? She won't answer any of my questions. She's a completely batty stalker. She definitely is not living in the same world as the rest of us. She makes about as much sense as Hagrid would trying to explain the intricacies of fine cooking. Not to mention that she has really, really nice legs. Ron stopped and hung his head down in exasperation.

"I really hate that girl," he said under his breath.

--- ---

Hermione was running at full speed. She needed to get to Harry and fast. Her dress was gone and in its place was a pair of blue jeans and a plain white tee. Her shoes were a nice pair of handmade leather moccasins. She had finally realized that she had an immense control over everything around her. She was fully visualizing reaching the edge of this strange place. She was not going to stay a moment longer. She was going to find a way out of here and would not stop until she had made it to Harry's side.

"I'd rather be in Hell with Harry, then in Heaven all alone!" she yelled out.

Immediately after saying that she remembered reading Dante's Inferno last year during the winter break for a little light reading.

"Okay, well… I'd rather be in Heaven with Harry, if I have a choice in the matter." This time she tempered it from a yell, to more of a slightly louder than normal voice. "Please, don't be mad… if anyone is listening…" She cringed, but still kept running.

The forest was all but gone now. She was running across green fields contouring along rolling hillsides.

"Oh for goodness sake," she blurted in frustration.

She stopped running and simply concentrated really hard on being at the edge of wherever she was. She closed her eyes and felt a rush of wind glide across her skin. She opened them and was standing right next to the deepest precipice that Mother Nature had ever made. It was such a long way down that she had to look hard to be able to make out the tops of clouds that were floating below her.

"Okay… then. I… well… how exactly am I going to get down from here?"

She sat down with her legs dangling over the edge and thought for a bit. She was not completely sure where she was looking down towards. Was earth below her? Was it hell? What exactly was down there? Could she survive the fall?

"Well, I am already dead after all. What could really happen?"

She stood up and began to pace back and forth. How was she supposed to get to Harry from here? She thought about Harry for a moment and then imagined the sword of Gryffindor in her hand. She looked down and there it was. It felt good in her hands. She was going to need it. After that little demon tart tried to kiss Harry, she felt it was in her best interest to have something to behead her with if it became an issue. A small part of her kind of hoped it would. She was not proud of that thought, but she never claimed to be perfect. Everyone else just sort of did that for her. She knew she had faults, but overall she was fairly happy with herself. She also realized that she was stalling. The thought of just jumping off the edge made her really, really nervous. She wondered if she would ever be able to come back to this beautiful place.

"I hope so," she whispered.

"Oh, have no doubt Hermione Granger. You will."

Hermione knew that voice. She spun around and sure enough standing there was Cedric Diggory.

"Cedric? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," he smiled.

It was nice to see him Hermione thought.

"So, how come you've come here now? To see me of all people?"

"To be honest," Cedric said with a serious voice, "I'm not really supposed to be here. I can only stay for a moment. I'm mainly here just to give you a little push in the right direction."

"Really?" Hermione said hopefully, "I could really use it."

"I know," Cedric replied. He smiled at her.

"Good luck Hermione. Not that you need it."

"By the way Cedric," she paused for a moment, "Is this heaven?"

"Heaven?" he answered, "no, it's not quite heaven. It's kind of complicated. For lack of a better term you might call this the 'choosing place'. It's the place where you choose what comes next. Do you go back as a ghost, do you stay here for awhile, or do you move on to what lies next for you? When you answer that question; when you are ready, then you… 'move on' for lack of a better term."

"I see… I think. So, what do I do now, about Harry?"

Cedric looked at her thoughtfully and then reached out his hand and did just what he told her he would. He gave her a little push.

The last thought that ran through Hermione's mind was, "Gee, I wonder if I can fly…"