HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATH OF THE OLD RULE
(WARNING: THIS IS A PRE-HBP STORY … THE READER MUST NOT TAKE INTO ACCOUNT THE NEW DEVELOPMENTS OF HBP TO APPRECIATE THE STORY.)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
===============
AUTHOR'S NOTE - SOME POST-HBP THOUGHTS, AND HOW THEY RELATE TO THIS STORY
Before this chapter is reviewed and put up, HBP will have been out and read by probably all of us. It cannot be clearer, after HBP, that in the end Ron and Hermione ship will prevail … And if there was any doubt left after reading HBP, JKR has now come clean herself and declared publicly that it would be so (see her interview with Emerson on Mugglenet).
I think there has been two types of shippers within the Harry/Hermione "tribe". The first kind relied, up until HBP, on some canon evidence and hoped for H/Hr to happen, since there still lingered a glimmer of hope that it could. The other kind of H/Hr shippers are those who are unshakably convinced it should have been that way, and that anything else is a travesty of justice - they're so emotionally involved in the idea that they are no doubt heartbroken, and will mourn for the rest of the series, if not the rest of their life!
I've been a H/Hr shipper mainly for the first reason, although I have been emotionally invested in the idea since Book 1. I immediately got attached to Hermione as a character, and as she grew in the series it followed that I wanted Harry to be with her. I couldn't deny the hints about Ron and Hermione, though … I was shaken by GOF with the whole Yule ball, Ron and Krum imbroglio, but found new hope in the amazing complicity between Hermione and Harry in OOTP. But now, I'm being brought back to reality - JKR's reality - in HBP … I accept, albeit with some sadness and nostalgia, the fact that the pairings will most likely end up being Harry and Ginny, and Ron and Hermione. Ginny makes sense for Harry, since she's feisty, determined, speaks her own mind, and has flaming red hair - very much like what we know of Lily Evans, Harry's mother. It's just sad that we didn't get a good chance as readers to get thoroughly attached to her from the beginning.
I was upset throughout the book until I reached the last two hundred pages. It is there that as a writer, I started seeing where JKR was going. As she stated before, the books are about friendship - and not romance, though romance has to appear as a realistic part of the characters' lives. And especially, they're about Harry's quest, and his coming of age as an orphan, a Wizard, and a marked man; we see him stand alone a lot more in HBP, a trend that will probably continue in Book 7. His friends, though loyal and unshakable, fade somewhat in the background as he slowly rises to face Voldemort - and so does his love interests. His perspective becomes one of life and death, and protecting those he loves most from harm - whether it be Hermione, Ron, or Ginny.
LET US SET OURSELVES, HENCE, TO THE BUSINESS AT HAND! Harry Potter and the Death of the Old Rule is only a few chapters from completion, and I'd like to dedicate it to all of us who hoped and dreamed of seeing Harry ending up with Hermione - and those who, in their heart of hearts, will always see it as the ONLY way it should have been!
PLEASE NOTE ALSO: I will have to pace the writing of the last 2 chapters, because with the coming of September, I am swamped with deadlines, and must give my attention to other writing assignments. So don't despair if you don't see the last chapters just yet, they will come!
GOOD READING!
===============
CHAPTER 14
FACE TO FACE WITH OLD ENEMIES
"YOU! What could you possibly be doing here!" Harry hissed with fury, his arm and wand extended as one, ready to strike.
Malfoy, still not believing that Harry Potter - and not Winslow - was standing before him, didn't answer. Instead, he dashed from the fireplace across the room, hoping to gain a second or two and hide behind the table and chairs.
"IMPEDIMENTA!" Harry screamed, but Malfoy ducked while taking out his own wand.
Harry didn't give Malfoy a second to even think of retaliating. "EXPELLIARMUS!"
Malfoy's wand went flying from his hand, and he was forced to admit defeat, at least for the moment being.
"Stop, Potter! I surrender, all right?" Hands in the air, Draco was trying to decide very quickly what to do next.
Harry snickered. "And you think it's going to be that simple? I have a score to settle with you, Malfoy … or have you forgotten already?"
A dark and sinister anger overtook Harry, and he found himself delighting in the terror now appearing on Malfoy's face. Revenge - at last! The frustration, anger and rage of the last seven years welled up inside Harry, and he remembered his promise.
A cold resolve came over him. Malfoy would not leave the house alive.
Draco Malfoy was now breathing very fast, very nervously, realizing full well that he only had minutes - if not seconds - to spare. And yet, he just couldn't resist the opportunity, once again, to taunt Harry.
"Oh, you're not talking about the little slap I gave your girlfriend a few weeks back, now are you? Now, now … that was just for fun, there wasn't any harm intended! She kind of deserved -"
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! YOU - I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU! CRUCIO!"
Harry's face was beet red, his eyes bulging, and his upper lip trembling. Malfoy had fallen to the floor, and was twisting in agony, feeling the full effect of Harry's wrath and rage - not to mention his pent-up emotions of the last few weeks.
"NOW HOW'S THAT FOR `FUN', YOU GIT? HOW DOES THAT FEEL?"
Malfoy contorted on the floor, trying to scream but unable to utter a sound.
Harry was laughing hysterically, sardonically, letting his dark side take over. He would let Malfoy die of pain, if he had to.
"Yes," he thought, "this is so much better than killing him quickly". Draco had spent his life making others suffer. A little of his own medicine was in order. Still holding his wand, he approached Malfoy, and without warning, kicked him hard in the face - once, then again, and once more. He stopped only when Draco's face had become purple and bloody.
"That's for Hermione, if you must know! How about some more? We can never have enough `fun', you know!"
Harry tilted his wand ever so slightly, and Malfoy's eyes opened wide, as if to plead for mercy. He writhed on the floor, as a spider just sprayed with insecticide.
The door suddenly opened. "Harry? HARRY! What is this? What -"
Harry couldn't catch his reflex in time. He turned around, and instantly realized it was a severe mistake.
"Hermione, get away! Quick!"
But it was too late. The Cruciatus curse had been temporarily lifted, and Draco still had the presence of mind to grab something underneath his cloak.
As Harry turned back to face Malfoy, he saw for an infinitesimal instant a silvery artefact in Draco's hand, already moving in an arc fashion above his head and shoulder. The quick movement was accompanied with a flash of sunlight reflecting on the polished, metallic object. One second later a sharp burning pain exploded just below his left collarbone, almost at the junction of his sternum. It instantly radiated to his entire upper back and chest, and with a sickening gurgling sound, Harry coughed out some dark red blood. His legs buckled, dizziness overtook him, and he stopped seeing clearly … The outline of Draco moving towards him quickly disappeared as a thick fog seemed to be enveloping him.
"HARRY!" Hermione screamed in horror, seeing the long dagger solidly embedded to the hilt right below Harry's chest. Draco was slowly getting up, a triumphant glee on his pointed face.
"Well, at last! The great Harry Potter has been stopped … I always thought it useful to carry a more … conventional weapon, wouldn't you say? A lot of seasoned wizards have fallen to them!"
"YOU MONSTER!" Hermione lunged forward, extending her arm and wand towards Draco while muttering something under her breath. A yellowish orange beam of light streaked the room and hit Draco right between the eyes. He remained still for a second, eyes rolling backwards, and then keeled right over, knocked out.
Hermione jumped to Harry, who was on the floor, holding the hilt of the silver dagger with both hands. His eyes were open, but his face was white, he had a very hard time breathing, and blood was still spurting from the corner of his mouth.
"HARRY! HARRY! Oh, goodness … this is bad, very bad!" She then became very business-like, and tied her hair backwards in a ponytail to clear her view. "Don't move, all right! Whatever happens, don't move!"
Harry attempted to talk. A faint whisper came out of his lips.
"Her - Hermione! I' m so - so sorry ..." He smiled faintly. "I - I don't think - can't move … I can't feel much anymore … I - I love you, so much, and -"
"SHUT UP, HARRY! NOT TODAY, YOU'RE NOT LEAVING!" Hermione, her face shining with tears, was nevertheless working. She had ripped Harry's t-shirt off, and was swirling her wand around Harry's chest. The results were unexpected, to say the least. All of the sudden, his sensory faculties were back - and he felt unfathomable pain.
"OUCH! That - that burns, Her - Her - mione!" Harry moaned, trying to remain conscious but feeling nauseous at the same time. A little band of smoke was starting to come out of his chest wound, accompanied by the much disagreeable smell of burnt flesh.
Hermione was sweating and crying, still trying frantically to rescue Harry.
She looked at him with fear in her eyes, and proceeded to take off Harry's belt from his pants.
"Her - mi - one?" Harry whimpered. "What - what are you -"
Harry managed a smirk, and continued. "Am I - in heaven, already?"
She blushed, catching on his idea. "No, you wouldn't dream of it, Harry Potter! Not quite yet!"
She shoved the leather belt in Harry's mouth.
"I have to take the dagger out, Harry. I've stopped the superficial bleeding, but I need to take it out. It will … probably … hurt a lot, so bite hard on the belt."
Harry closed his eyes, and took a deep breath - which was difficult, in his state.
Hermione, one knee on each side of Harry' chest, braced herself, and put both hands on the hilt of the knife. "All right," she said shrilly, "on the count of three. One. Two. THREE!"
Harry's body jerked upwards as she pulled out the dagger, which came out relatively easily. He didn't scream, didn't utter a sound, but Hermione could see by the look on his face that this had been agonizingly painful.
He had passed out.
Hermione set herself back to work, pronouncing slightly spells as before. She had to act fast now, blood gushing out of the wound in a rather heavy fashion. A small, blueish electric-like arc came out of her wand as she approached it from Harry's knife wound, and the smoke started coming out again. The tip of her wand was almost buried in the flesh, but after a minute or two, the bleeding stopped.
She sighed with relief, realizing how incredibly fortunate Harry had been that night. She had spent her evening at the library studying - and practicing - the very flesh-healing spell she had just performed. She looked at her own arm, where she had cut herself many times to practice. She had mastered it to the point there wasn't even a scar on her arm. It was almost like she had a connection with Harry that borrowed from another realm …
"Okay, I must get him to the hospital ward, now!" Hermione got back to her feet, turning around to find a blanket to make Harry comfortable. She came face to face with Draco, who had just awoken.
He threw his fist forwards, and hit her right across the cheekbone, sending her crashing into the wall.
"Gosh, it's fun to slap you around, Mudblood!" Malfoy seemed intent on giving Hermione another taste of their last encounter.
But this time, she had been clutching her wand, and didn't let go. Crouched up on the floor near the wall, Hermione was thinking furiously fast, attempting to shake away the stars dancing in front of her eyes and the ringing tone in her ears.
"Come on, just admit it! You like it, don't you? Maybe if you're nice, we'll have more fun later, the kind of fun that I'm sure you're dying to enjoy!" Draco pointed at his loins, leaving no doubt as to what his sinister intentions were.
Hermione got back up in a flash, the right side of her face swollen and purple, and quickly attempted to stop Draco.
"IMPEDIMENTA!" she yelled, determined not to let Malfoy get the best of her this time.
Malfoy seemed surprised to see her back up so soon, but managed to avoid the jinx by quickly jumping to his right. He then physically jumped towards her, trying to grab Hermione's wand.
She kicked and punched, hanging on to her wand for dear life. Her knee seemed to hit him in the stomach, because he suddenly backed from away her, winded, trying to catch his breath. She took a few steps back, as he slowly got back up.
It suddenly dawned on Hermione that she would had to use a more powerful spell in order to stop him.
"Feisty, aren't we? I love it! Come on Granger, stop your act, and let's get it on! REALLY get it on!" He was walking slowly, closing the gap between them. But Hermione now stood defiantly, eyes blazing, her wand extended in front of her and her body aligned sideways behind her arm in an attack position. She fumbled with her left hand underneath her robe for a moment, but Draco saw nothing of the movement.
Hermione spat in his face. "You're disgusting, Malfoy! I wouldn't let you touch me, even if I was dying and you were my only hope! CRU - CRUCIO!"
Malfoy was thrown back and landed on the floor with a thud, wincing in pain. The effect, however, didn't seem strong enough.
"Oi, oi! Yes, that was painful, I must admit. But you need to work on your rage, Granger! Your boyfriend didn't teach you that part, did he?"
He got up quickly and threw herself on her, but she brought her left arm from behind her back at the same time, throwing it in a slashing movement directly in front of her.
"AAARGHHHH!" Draco hissed, grabbing air with both arms, and landing on his knees. He felt his stomach and realized there was blood there - lots of it.
Hermione was still standing, her wand in the right hand, and the silver dagger wet with blood in the other. She seemed paralysed with shock and disbelief, staring at the bloody knife with an expression of disgust.
Rage and panic appeared on Draco's face … He now knew to be fighting a losing battle, and realized he was critically injured. Looking over his shoulders towards Hermione, he took three quick steps with much effort towards the window and jumped through it, in a deafening noise of shattering glass.
Hermione suddenly snapped out of her stance, and ran after him … when she reached the window, he had already disappeared from sight.
---------------
Harry felt like he was floating in mid-air, weightless. It was a strange, eerie sensation. Opening his eyes, he saw he was suspended in some kind of cloud of kaleidoscopic colours. He could hear voices, in the background, but they seemed to be blended together, undistinguishable. It was somewhat like the rumbling of a distant crowd …
"Am I dead?" Harry wondered. Peering into the colourful mist, he saw shadows and silhouettes. There were other people around, but then again, they seemed out of reach, and Harry couldn't make their face.
He wondered if he could move around. He tried to make a movement with his arms, as if to swim of sorts, but he seemed to stay into place. Time and space were, however, very difficult to gauge in his predicament. Maybe he had moved - but he had no clue and no point of reference.
"Maybe if I concentrate," he thought to himself. He looked in front of him, where the cloudy vapour seemed to concentrate into a series of shades of blue. "Go forward!" he thought, concentrating really hard and actually visualizing himself going forward. All of the sudden, the colours around him became horizontal streaks of lights, and he felt himself flying forward at a vertiginous speed, to the point of feeling somewhat nauseous.
"STOP," he thought, and everything returned to "normal" - that is, the state he had been in just moments before.
"Where the hell am I?" he thought to himself, panicking. He didn't feel dead quite yet, there seemed to be lacking some kind of … finality to his state, for lack of a better word. He still could think, he still had a body, he could still … feel emotions.
"Hermione!" he thought. Looking around, she was nowhere in sight. The memory of what had just happened came flooding back also - Draco, the fight, the stabbing pain in his chest, Hermione trying to help him … He looked down at his chest. Surprisingly, he saw nothing there, except for a razor-thin scar about three centimetres long. "Wow, Hermione!" he thought to himself, speculating she had managed to close the wound.
"But if she managed to do that, why am I here?" A dreadful thought dawned on him. Maybe she hadn't been quick enough, and he had died during the procedure.
He tried frantically to focus his thoughts on Hermione, but nothing happened. Nobody came to him, the silhouettes remained the same, the background noise also.
A huge lump formed in his throat at the thought that perhaps this was it - he had died, and would never see her again. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he did feel them trickle down his cheeks.
Something was off. If he was dead, wouldn't he be in a state of eternal happiness and bliss? Would he still be worrying about his friends, about everything else?
"No," he thought to himself, "this is something else … an in-between state, perhaps?"
As he slowly drifted, wondering how he would get himself out of this predicament, a dark shadow came into clear view. It wasn't a person, though, and this "object" seemed rectangular in shape. Harry seemed to be floating towards it. It became clearer, and in focus.
It was an arch-like structure, on which a curtain was hung … it was slightly wobbling, as if responding to a soft breeze. Harry's heart accelerated. He had seen that curtain before, in other tragic circumstances. And through it, he had seen his godfather disappear - for what he thought was forever.
His heart raced even faster. "Is that where I am? Behind that veil? But then it must mean that -"
A deep, familiar voice echoed from right behind him.
"Yes, Harry. That is exactly what it means."
Harry gasped in his ethereal state. He turned around in a flash, still not sure he did so physically or in his mind. "Sirius! SIRIUS! Is - is that really you?"
The man with long black hair smiled at Harry. He looked much better than the last time Harry had seen him. His face was no longer sunken, his hair was glittering, and his smile … it was very much like the one in Harry's photograph albums.
"Yes Harry, it is me. Gosh it feels good to talk to you, if only for a short while …"
Harry registered the statement with a start. "So I'm not dead then?"
"No, Harry. This is a special place, and it is fitting that you paid a visit. It has deep meaning, and -"
"So, what is … this? The ghosts at school told me that you would … move on, after death. But you're here, so you must have … lingered?"
Sirius smiled. "The people behind the veil, Harry, are protecting spirits. They are chosen, after death, because of the way they lived their life. They - we - are assigned a person or many, to look over and help in times of great difficulty. I have been assigned to you, Ron, and Hermione."
Harry shuddered. "So you've been … looking over us, of sorts?"
"Yes, Harry. Why do you think that in times of great need, you have such a strong connection with Hermione? It is I - from this place - that makes it possible."
Harry, in this surreal state, couldn't cry. But he sure felt glad and relieved all of the sudden. For the first time in a long while, he knew he would no longer be alone.
But he had a sudden thought. "So, if I'm here, is it like a … prelude to what will - what would - happen to me if I died?"
Sirius nodded. "Yes Harry. Your courage, and your willingness to lay your life on the line for your friends would have brought you here - had you died, that is. But I thought you could use the comfort, so I bent the rules a little, to allow you some time in here … You have to be dead, of course, to stay!"
"Oooh, I see! Well, er -"
It suddenly dawned on Harry what this rather unexpected encounter represented, and thoughts of things he wanted to say to Sirius started flooding his brains, making him dizzy. A jolt surged in his stomach, and suddenly, he was reliving the whole ordeal - the sadness, the regrets, the guilt and the anger he had felt when Sirius had passed. One thought, however, seemed to emerge above all others.
"Er, Sirius? I'm so … so sorry, it's my fault you died! If I had learned Occlumency properly, I would have known what Voldemort was up to and -"
Sirius waived him off with his hand. "Stop, Harry, stop! Don't torture yourself with that … The truth is that using me as bait was Voldemort's plan all along, and he would have used other means if he hadn't resorted to Legilimency. It was only a matter of time, with Kreacher in the house bidding his time, that he found a way to get to me to get to you. And -"
Sirius paused, a look of intense passion igniting his face. His eyes were blazing, and he looked Harry straight in the eyes.
"In the end, Harry, it was MY choice … I knew the risks, just like Ron and Hermione, and Ginny, know the risks. They chose to remain your friends, and fight alongside you …"
A different voice then spoke. "And I chose to bear that risk too, Harry!"
Another figure had just appeared behind Sirius. It was Neville Longbottom, smiling, radiant.
Harry was speechless, and tears were streaming down his cheeks as powerful sobs seem to overtake him. A huge burden was apparently lifting from his shoulders, and he felt lighter than he had in seven years.
Sirius continued. "You have been dealt some cards that are more difficult to play than others, Harry. But we all knew this, and we chose your side. You can't be perfect, Harry, and you'll make mistakes. But if people die around you, it is not because of your mistakes - it is because of their choice. Their choice to value friendship, honour, and love above anything else.
Without warning, Harry suddenly felt himself pull away towards the curtain.
Panicking, he tried to will himself to stay, but to no avail. There was so much more he wanted to say, but he felt sucked away by a giant vortex.
"Goodbye, Sirius! I never got to say it properly! Farewell! I will miss you always …"
A fading figure in the blurring surroundings waved as everything started spinning around Harry.
Before long, Harry was crossing the curtain - again.
---------------
Hermione had been staring blankly at Ron for a while. Her face was white, she had said very little in the last few hours, and genuine sadness and fear were detectable in her demeanour.
"Hermione? Are you okay?" Ron said softly, well aware of the emotional roller-coaster she was probably riding just now.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She delicately replaced the wet, cold piece of linen to the side of her face near her eye, wincing at the discomfort.
"Of course I'm NOT okay, Ronald! What do you think? I mean -" she cried, unable to utter anything else.
Ron's eyes went wide. He got up and brought his chair closer to hers, and put his arm around her lovingly.
"I'm sorry Hermione, I didn't mean - I never would … I'm just worried that you might lose it, at some point. You've been through so much lately, I wonder how you've coping, you know?"
Hermione sniffed loudly, and rested her head on Ron's shoulder. "I don't know Ron, I really don't know. But -"
She looked up at him imploringly.
"Tell me he's going to be fine, Ron! He will, won't he? I can't lose him, I - I - I just can't!"
More tears came out, and then a shriek of despair like Ron had never heard from her before. Her face constricted into an expression of agony, and she started bawling loudly, hiding her face in Ron's sweater and abandoning herself. Her whole body soon started shaking violently, as she seemed to be crying all the tears she had left.
Ron remained silent, trying to let Hermione know she wasn't alone by not letting go of her. But he couldn't really answer her question. Harry had been in a deep coma for a week now, his chest wound very serious. Hermione had saved his life by closing the wound, but the trauma of the blade lodging right beside his spine had sent his body into a deep coma. Mrs. Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore were both confident he would come out of it after a few days, but it had now been longer than they had all expected.
Hermione had stopped shaking.
"You really love him, don't you?" Ron asked, knowing the obvious answer but trying to gauge whether she could really recover if his best friend were to pass on.
She looked up at him, a faint smile on her puffy, red face.
"You have no idea, Ron … I - I had tried to imagine what it would be like, but it's so much more than that. I -" She looked towards the bed. Harry was breathing rhythmically, and his face seemed so relaxed that he appeared to be, for once, at peace.
Hermione continued, her voice breaking. "I don't think I could go on without him, Ron … it's like we were meant to be - since the dawn of ages, or something. I didn't believe in `soul mates' before … I think I do now."
Ron sighed. "You and Harry always had a special bond, even I could see that." A slight pang of jealousy uncomfortably twisted his stomach. Ron had made tantalizing efforts in the last year to hide his true emotions, including attempting a go at a relationship with Luna Lovegood … but in truth, Hermione had been his first love, and somehow he was realizing there was no getting over it. He had had to admit defeat, of course, since Hermione herself didn't love him. But it hurt nevertheless, especially when he was alone with Hermione and she was vulnerable.
Hermione looked at Ron guiltily, apparently reading his mind. "Oh, Ronald, you've been so … understanding. I'm sorry about hurting you, I really am." She held his arm tighter, trying to hold on to the only thing left in her life that was still intact.
Ron leaned on her head, and whispered. "I love you, Hermione. You've been an amazing friend for me, and even though we've had our darker - and more confusing - moments, don't be sorry for being who you are."
Ron wondered about his choice of words. He himself was in a whirlwind of emotions, having come close to losing his sister twice in two weeks, and was just coming to terms with the reality of his pain.
Hermione, staring blankly at the wall in front of her, asked him quietly, "When did you know? About me and Harry, I mean. You said you knew, even while we dated … so when did you?"
Ron thought for a moment. They were suddenly treading dangerous waters for him, and he could already feel his eyes water. He managed to compose himself somewhat, before answering. "Well, I've been thinking a lot about that, lately. So many things have taken place since the summer, it forces you to reflect, you know? But I think I realized you felt different about Harry at the onset of our fifth year. That hug, when Harry arrived at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, was more than just friendship. There was … desperation there, something more."
Hermione blushed, and smiled. "I had missed him so much that summer, I don't know why exactly, but all I could think of was him."
Ron laughed. "Don't I know it! We were together at Grimmauld Place and you rarely talked about anyone else! And this was right after our Yule ball year, Viktor, and the confusion … between us."
There was a moment of silence, as they both looked at each other. Hermione realized how deeply she cared for Ron, but at the same time, was saddened by the hurt she knew she had caused him - he had been sincere while they had dated, and she well … hadn't.
Ron put his hand up, and broke the silence. "Don't say it, Hermione! We've been through this already, I'm … I'm fine with you and Harry - I really am. Stop feeling guilty already!"
But deep down, he knew this wasn't entirely true.
He turned to Harry.
"Poor Harry was clueless, though. It was all about Cho Chang that year. It goes to show you, doesn't it: extreme cuteness is one thing, but it doesn't make a relationship work …"
At the mention of the name, Hermione bit her tongue. The sting of Harry's crush for Cho wasn't sufficiently far away in her memory for it not to sting. To this day, Cho refused to talk to her, convinced she had lured Harry away from her.
"Well, I guess we all make mistakes … Besides, how could Harry even guess that I had feelings for him? I wasn't even sure of it myself!"
"Oi … when you two are finished discussing my life, maybe you could get me something to eat … I'm starving over here!"
"HARRY!" Hermione screamed, tears of joy instantly filling her eyes. She jumped on the bed besides him, grabbing his cheeks between her hands. She started kissing him repeatedly, frantically, and then spoke extremely fast. "Oh, Harry, I was so worried, I thought I had done the healing charms properly, but then … Dumbledore told me it was a serious injury, and that more was needed. Mrs. Pomfrey believes I saved your life, but - oh, Harry … I'm so glad to have you back."
Harry looked at her, and very softly, put his finger on her lips and shushed her. "It's okay, I'm here, calm down! You're going to make Ron want to leave!"
Ron grinned sheepishly. "Mate, you gave us quite a scare there!"
"You two don't know the half of it. I mean, I was in a strange place. I thought, for a moment, that I was dead. I met … Sirius."
Hermione sat straight up on the bed in a flash. "What?"
Ron's eyes were as wide as could be. "Wow … Do go on, please!"
---------------
The first budding flowers of spring were starting to find their way through the remaining patches of snow between the thousands of tents on the grounds at Hogwarts. Six months had passed since Harry, Hermione and Ron had barely escaped with their life on the Chudley Quidditch field.
It had been decided, a few weeks after, that most of them would remain in Hogwarts to see the winter through. Ginny had stayed in the coma for two months, and was still fragile from her injuries of the previous October. It was also Dumbledore's impression that Maldemort's bloody war would relent if he knew that more and more wizards were camped out at Hogwarts - a place where he could not touch them. With the help of Lupin and others, the word had been spread that it would be beneficial to all Muggle-born Wizards to install themselves at Hogwarts. The endeavour had been a complete success, and there weren't a whole lot of them left in the outside world - if any - as spring came around, and Maldemort knew it very well.
Harry was unrecognizable. He was terribly frustrated, had been feeling like a caged lion since the beginning of winter, and was constantly in a bad mood. Even his blooming romance with Hermione had taken a heavy toll. He was often harsh with her, and even if he apologized somewhat after every incident, she now kept a certain distance in order to avoid his lashing out.
She had taken back to her old habits of hiding out at the library, where she could find peace and especially - where she wouldn't be the immediate target of Harry's mood swings. It was there that he found her one evening at the beginning of April, after searching for more than one hour for her. The puffiness of her eyes indicated she had been crying.
"Hermione! What are you doing here? I've been looking all over for you!" Harry spat, angry with her.
She couldn't take it anymore, and started crying - without saying a word.
Harry realized he had been harsh. "Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry. Don't cry, please!" he said, on a condescending tone.
"NO! You just … stop being mean to me! I - I thought you really loved me, but these days I feel all you want is to be upset with me." She looked at the ring on her finger. "Does this mean anything to you, or should I just - give it back?"
Harry suddenly felt like he had been hit by a freight train.
Hermione, sniffing and wiping her eyes, didn't seem to want to stop talking.
"I - I know it's hard being here, Harry. Especially for you. You remind me of Sirius when he was stuck at Number Twelve. But if you don't stop and get a grip on yourself, you're going to make rash and impulsive decisions, and they're going to cost you … to cost us! See what happened to him!"
"Er, Hermione, I understand, I just -"
But suddenly, Hermione did not seem to care about what he had to say. Her face red and puffy from the tears, she picked up her books abruptly, and got up.
"We'll talk later, Harry, okay?" she said in a high-pitched voice. "I'm - I can't really … I'm just too fragile right now …"
She stormed out of the library, leaving him to wonder what he had just done.
---------------
Harry instinctively felt that this meeting was important for the future. He had never seen Dumbledore look so tired, and so worried. There was talk around the school of launching some kind of counter-attack on Maldemort's army. Some were suggesting the creation of a Wizard's military force, to attempt to bring the war to an end.
The world was in chaos. Most of Western Europe's countries had suffered immensely, and one could have sworn to be back in the era of the Roman Empire's conquests. Towns and villages were in ruins, often still smouldering from their recent destruction. Entire plains, forests and fields had been transformed into desolated battlefields, littered with pockmarks, craters, and the "other" obvious sign of war - corpses. Even if the war had relented over the winter months, thundering roars of fighter jets patrolling above could still be heard, and most people had gone into "safe" places - Red-Cross designated shelters, larger cities, or neutral countries. Switzerland had a very hard time controlling the influx of refugees seeking shelter along their borders. The bravest of people attempted to get in through the Alps, with very little equipment, food or adequate clothing, and though some managed it, most of them died during the journey.
Dumbledore had called this meeting the night before, and a lot of people were in attendance. There had been a call to people outside of the Order of the Phoenix, it seemed, because Harry counted more than a hundred people.
He looked across at Hermione, who was still not really talking to him since the night before. Ironically, he had been looking for her to tell her about this very meeting. She was sitting on the other side of the room, almost directly across from him. Her choice of seating was, without a doubt, deliberate - she didn't want to sit with him. Every time he tried to look at her and catch her eye, she turned away. Ginny was beside her, a consoling arm around her shoulders in sympathy. But contrary to Hermione, she didn't try to avoid Harry's gaze - every chance she got, eyes blazing, she shot him a positively terrifying look of wrath ...
Harry noticed Hermione's eyes were red and bloodshot. She had probably spent the night crying in the girl's dormitories with Ginny, because she hadn't returned to Hagrid's cabin after their argument. Harry was spent himself - he hadn't slept all night, alternating between rage at his own behaviour and unbearable pain at the thought that he might have lost Hermione forever.
The thought sent chills down his spine, and he looked once more towards Hermione. She immediately looked away, but not before Harry registered that she had been looking straight at him.
"What's the matter with you two?" Ron whispered under his breath, noticing the obvious.
"Did you have a fight, or something? You keep looking at her, she keeps looking at you, but you both avoid each other … not to mention you're sitting a whole room across each other!" A faint light of hope dawned in Ron's mind, but he quickly tried to put it away. I have to get over this, Ron thought. Get a grip!
Harry sighed deeply, and Ron understood immediately from Harry's face that he was suffering intensely. "It's all my fault, Ron, I've been … rash, I guess. Mean, even. I haven't felt myself since we've been locked up in here - and I've taken it out on her all winter."
"Blimey Harry! Again? Man, when are you going to get it through your thick skull? You can be so self-involved sometimes! Poor you, locked up in Hogwarts! Have you ever paused to fathom what she's been through since last summer?"
Harry looked down at the floor in front of him. "Well, yes … of course - but I … it's just that - "
Despite his own issues with Hermione, Ron was really upset at his friend. There he was, in a relationship that he himself couldn't have with Hermione, and all that seemed to matter was his own little "problems." His tone remained even as he answered, however. "Harry … she needs you. She needs your love, your understanding, your … patience! She needs to see that despite whatever troubles you're going through, that you will not treat her like you used to treat us!"
"Hem, hem!"
Dumbledore had stopped behind them, apparently trying to start the meeting. They both realized, all of the sudden, that everyone in the room was silent, and was listening in on their conversation.
His face went beet red, but Harry nevertheless risked a glance in Hermione's direction. His heart stopped. She had left, and so had Ginny.
"Is this chair taken?" said a very business-like voice coming from behind him, that Harry recognized at once. The question was more rhetorical than anything else.
"Oh, Hermione!" Harry cried softly as she sat down. He leaned towards her ear, and whispered, "I'm really sorry. You don't deserve the way I've been. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
In a very Hermion-ish way, she turned to him and said shrilly, "You'd better Harry! I love you so much, but it hurts me when you're like that! I can't stand it. And yet …"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What?"
She looked at him with the most saddening puppy eyes, and said simply, "I just can't be away from you Harry. I love you, and I miss you, and …"
She didn't finish her sentence. Harry just hugged her with all his might, relieved.
Another voice, in a hushed tone, spoke in his other ear. "You act like this again, I'll slap the living daylight out of you, friend or not!"
In the corner of his eyes, Harry was sure he had seen a wave of red hair. When he finally turned around, he saw Ginny sitting besides Ron, arms crossed, and nodding in his direction with a resolute, victorious look on her face.
At that very moment, Dumbledore raised his voice.
"Spring has come, and we face some tough challenges," he began, carefully surveying the crowd before him. "I believe we can no longer tolerate the present situation - too many innocent people have died, and more will."
Dumbledore paused and took a deep breath. "I have collected different pieces of information from which I plotted a probable location for Maldemort's headquarters. Hence, I am here to call for volunteers to go and take down -"
At once, all the hands in the room shot up in the air, and people started shouting enthusiastically.
Grinning, Albus Dumbledore realized there would be no need to go further.
Harry looked at Ron and Ginny, then at Hermione. It was obvious, from the resolute expression on their face, that they would all be going.
Dumbledore smiled, and said softly. "All right then, we have our team. We will reconvene tomorrow evening, to divide the group into task forces, and assign the missions. If everything goes according to plan, the world should be safe again soon!"
-->