HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATH OF THE OLD RULE
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.
CHAPTER 8
REFUGE IN GODRIC'S HOLLOW
Hermione opened her eyes, and let out a piercing shriek, shocked - she was still in the basement of her house in Romania! She looked around frantically and her already fragile heart missed a beat when she didn't see Harry anywhere. Something had gone very wrong with her apparating! Trying to move, she felt as if a huge cerated knife was permanently lodged in her knee, and winced in pain - this had to be more than a cut. Her whole leg was excrutiatingly painful, and covered in blood. She tried to concentrate again on Grimmaud Place, but she was suffering way too much. Her emotions were in a whirlwind also, another factor that had possibly contributed to her inability to apparate, she reasoned.
"I have to get up, I have to move!" Hermione said to herself. She could distinctly hear more footsteps and noises upstairs, and knew that Death Eaters would get to her soon enough.
The door on top of the stairs was suddenly flung open. To Hermione's horror, she recognized Draco Malfoy. Halfway down the steps, he caught a glimpse of her huddling in the far corner. A sadistic, cruel smirk immediately formed on his face.
"Where's your boyfriend, Granger? He left you? You weren't up to his standards? I guess he finally decided a Mudblood wasn't good enough for him!" he said laughing, and immediately followed with a shout, "Expelliarmus!"
Slowed down by the pain in her leg, Hermione's reaction wasn't nearly quick enough: her wand flew out of her hand, out of reach.
She gritted her teeth, ready to fight with bare hands if she had to, and looked at Malfoy with seething anger. "Shut up already, Malfoy! You're a worm compared to Harry … You never were anything more!" She started hoping Harry would appear now - surely, he would apparate back to come and get her.
Draco's smile vanished. "You're in no position to talk like that, Granger …" He was coming down the stairs slowly, waving his wand dangerously in front of him.
Hermione desperately attempted to get up. She managed to hoist herself on her good leg, but couldn't even bend the other one. All of the sudden, she felt dizzy, and had to grab the wall to remain standing. There was a lot of blood on the floor, and for the first time, she feared she could die if that wound wasn't tended to. Little stars were flashing in front of her eyes, and for a moment she thought she would faint. She also saw that more Death eaters were coming down the stairs. She counted five in all.
"LEAVE HER TO ME! I want to have … a little fun!"
"We are to take her to our Master alive, Draco - DON'T forget that!" hissed one of the Death Eaters between his teeth, obviously disgusted at this display of childishness.
Ignoring him, Draco made three steps towards her, and yanked her by the hair as she tried to hop away from him on one leg.
"Finally! I've been wanting to grab that dirty mane for years! It's surprisingly soft though, I would have thought otherwise …"
Hermione screamed. "Ouch! You disgusting animal! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Hermione spun around and punched him on the face with all her might, but unfortunately he didn't let go.
A surge of rage and disgust, however, suddenly took over Draco's face, as he felt his upper lip - now bleeding - with his finger. "You filthy Mudblood, wait til you get what you deserve!!"
Still holding Hermione with a solid grip in her hair, Draco deliberately tucked his wand back in his belt, and without warning, with the palm of his open hand, pelted her face with all his might.
Hermione let out a muffled scream, convinced her head had just exploded; yet, the pain became even more intense a split-second later: her head had jerked sideways with the force of the blow, but was violently and forcefully pulled back by Draco - who still had a firm hold on a large chunk of her hair. Before she could think of anything else, the hand came back in the opposite direction, smashing her cheekbone on the other side of her face. This time, she felt a horrible burning sensation in her cheek as well, and a warm trickle of blood going down the side of her nose. A few more blows followed, as Draco seemed to be in some kind of incontrolable fury.
Hermione had never been hit before, and thought she was going to die. Blinded, barely conscious, her whole face throbbing in pain, she braced herself for the next blow. When it didn't come, she attempted to open her eyes; she was swelling and her vision was blurry, but she still caught a sight of Draco, his face gleeful with sadistic pleasure at beating her up. He had finally let go of her hair, and was routinely wiping and adjusting a huge metal ring on his finger.
Hermione, bloodied and on the verge of collapsing, still managed to remain standing and whisper defiantly, "I guess you're a big man now, hey? Beating up an unarmed, injured, defenseless girl?"
"SHUT UP, MUDBLOOD!" It seemed that Draco's suppressed rage of all his years at Hogwarts were coming out all at once. "I'll show you a real man, Granger! This is what you should be looking for in your choice of lovers!"
He leaned forcefully against her, sliding one hand behind her neck and closing it like a claw, and jerked her body against his with the other. His face was so close now she could smell his breath on her face. He physically forced her to look at him as she tried to turn away.
"What's the matter, Granger? Afraid Potter won't pass the test after this?"
His lips were almost touching hers now, and - as disgusting as it was - Hermione realized that he was about to kiss her. She felt somewhat nauseous.
She murmured, barely strong enough to shake her head and try to avoid his mouth, "You're so - disgusting, don't you dare - you're such a low life, eurk!"
A flash went through Hermione's mind as Draco's lips started touching hers: he no longer had his wand in hand! Hermione mustered everything she had left, and shot her injured knee up his groin. She nearly fainted from the pain: it was as if someone had just hammered a huge nail in her knee.
But it worked nevertheless: taken by surprise, Draco immediately backed away and fell on the floor bent in half, winded, groaning deeply and trying to catch his breath. Hermione looked around, but despite her impaired vision she saw that there was no hope, as the Death eaters were now coming closer and drawing their wands to put an end to this charade.
She was backed against the wall, with nowhere to go.
"Harry, oh Harry, where are you?" she cried between her gritted teeth, sensing ominously that death was probably next. She closed her eyes, convinced the end had come. She forced herself to summon the mental picture of two bright, loving, emerald green eyes: it would be the last thing she would think about before snuffing it.
But unexpectedly, a blinding light filled the room, and a red and gold bird appeared in mid-air, hovering around and - apparently - setting the room in some kind of gold and silver fire. Two people appeared at the top of the stairs, and hexes started flying everywhere around the room.
An eerie silence soon fell upon the musty basement. When Hermione opened her eyes again, she saw with an overpowering wave of relief the familiar face of her old Headmaster coming towards her.
He still looked towering and menacing, but nevertheless managed to smile at her softly. "Well, Miss Granger, for once it isn't Harry Potter that is in need of my assistance …"
Dumbledore, seeing she was struggling to stay up, quickly put one arm around her shoulders.
Overcome and exhausted by pain, grief, the conflicting emotions of the day and this last ordeal, all Hermione managed to get out was a feeble "Thank you!" before she went limp and collapsed, losing consciousness. The Headmaster swiftly put his other arm gently under her legs, and lifted her up with surprisingly no effort, given his apparent age.
Dumbledore turned around, and looked where Remus Lupin was standing quietly, his wand still glittering with sparks.
"Come on, Remus, let's take her home. I'd say she's been through enough for one day, wouldn't you agree?"
Lupin didn't say anything, but nodded, as a silent tear escaped the corner of his eye and slowly trickled down his cheek.
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"Harry? Weren't you going go get Hermione? Where is she? Oh no - don't tell me you didn't get to her in time?"
Ginny had spoken, but both her and Ron looked horrified.
Harry got up in a state of panic. His throat was numb, and he felt a wave of despair coming over him.
"I must go back, I must go back for her. We were in her house, fighting Death Eaters, but we apparated together - she should be here!!"
Harry looked at Ron, desperate. "Didn't you go to Dumbledore, like I told you?"
Ron got up to stand with Harry. "Yes mate, he told us to come back here, that he was taking the matter into his own hands. And -"
Ron looked at Harry with deep concern, shifting uncomfortably.
"What? WHAT?" Harry was going crazy.
"You can't go back, Harry! Dumbledore told us that whatever happened, if only one of you two made it back, we were to keep whoever it was … here."
Ron quickly drew his wand, and pronounced a binding spell. Harry was immediately tied down by the hundreds of tiny ropes shooting out of Ron's wand.
"Ron? RON! What are you doing? I HAVE to go back, you don't understand! They're going to KILL her!"
Ginny spoke next. "That is exactly why Dumbledore told us to keep you here at all costs - he was going to meet you guys, didn't you see him? Anyway, Hermione is a great witch, she can defend herself until they get there!"
Harry was furious, and trying with all his might to undo the ropes stopping him from rescuing Hermione - the love of his life, he knew it now - from a bunch of blood-thirsty Death Eaters. But the more he struggled, the tighter the ropes became - he had a hard time breathing by now.
"You don't understand, she's INJURED! She can't move, where do you think I got all this blood? Come on, now, don't be a couple of morons and get me out of these ropes!"
From the corner of his eyes, Harry caught a glimpse of Luna sitting terrified in the corner of the room with Neville. He hadn't noticed them before. They both seemed too afraid to say anything.
"Luna, come on, talk some sense into him - they have to let me go back, Hermione's life is hanging in the balance!!"
But Luna looked at Ron, who shook his head vehemently; she said nothing, and hid her face - on which there was nothing dreamy now - between her hands.
Disheartened, Harry turned back to Ron. "Come on Ron! Since when do we follow rules in a situation like this? You had no problem breaking them in school? What's the matter?"
Understanding the real underlying urgency, Ginny went beside Harry, and forced him to sit down on a chair. She gave him a big hug, and looked at him straight in the eyes : "She's going to be okay, Harry. Dumbledore and Lupin apparated right away to Romania after Ron told them, they had to be seconds behind you guys."
Harry took in a deep breath, and looked at Ginny imploringly. "You don't understand, Ginny. We talked today, we … made up. She's more to me now, she's … I love her, she loves me, I can't lose her. I must -"
Ginny gazed at him compassionately, and said calmly, "I know Harry! You'll see her soon …"
Harry couldn't speak anymore, and collapsed on his chair, sobbing deeply. Ginny leaned against him, holding him. There was something extremely powerful about the wave of emotions going through Harry at this very moment. Ginny felt awestruck, and was surprised to find herself envious - for just a moment - of Hermione for being the object of such passionate, unaldurated love.
A melodious, high-pitched song suddenly became audible, and Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, appeared in mid-air and landed on Harry's shoulder. An overwhelming wave of relief washed through Harry, who quickly looked around, searching for the familiar wave of brown, bushy hair.
Dumbledore had entered the room with Remus Lupin, but there was - still - no sign of Hermione.
Harry gasped when he saw Dumbledore's dark green robe stained with blood. "Oh, no! You were too late! Where is she? Did they - hurt her?"
The Headmaster smiled at Harry, and spoke softly. "Miss Granger is safe, for now. She is at the hospital wing of Hogwarts, where she will have to stay for the time being. Her injuries are extensive, I'm afraid. Harry? A word, please?"
Harry, finally free from the ropes - Ron had made them vanish when Dumbledore had arrived - followed the Headmaster in the living room adjacent to the kitchen.
He looked at Harry with great concern in his eyes. "Harry, before you go and blame yourself, I want you to remember that you undoubtedly saved Miss Granger's life today. Now, I will take you straight to her in a few moments, but there is something you must know first."
Harry's heart sank - what on earth had happened to her?
"What is it?"
"I'm afraid Hermione is in extreme danger; it makes no doubt that she is being targeted by Dark Wizards. This new `Dark Lord' has shown he will stop at nothing to get to her …"
He paused, and continued with a grave tone. "You saw what he did to her parents …"
Dumbledore appeared somewhat disturbed, but resumed his train of thoughts.
"She will need to be protected, but -" Dumbledore paused, aware that what he was about to say would be difficult to hear.
Harry looked at him quizzically. He was still wondering why this `new' Dark Lord was targeting Hermione, and not him.
Dumbledore continued, "But - it can no longer be by you, Harry - by JUST you, I mean, no matter how much you're going to insist on it. I must now involve the Order, and myself personally, in her protection … It's the only way to keep her safe for the time being."
"Well, I have - no … problem with that …" Harry replied, not sure at what Dumbledore seemed to be getting at.
The old Headmaster sighed. "Well, Harry, you must realize what it means: first of all, I need her to be - for a while, at least - constantly under some kind of surveillance, by you AND someone else … And this might be difficult for you in the light of the new `nature' of your relationship with her …"
Undoubtedly, one couldn't hide anything from Dumbledore, Harry thought.
His heart went numb. It meant that they wouldn't be alone for a while, even if they seemed to be. There were so many things - private, intimate things - they needed to talk about, but to do it with people around?
"Well, if it's to keep her safe, I'm all for it!" Harry said, with resignation.
"Second of all", Dumbledore replied, "it means you will have to leave Twelve, Grimmaud Place … I suspect that it has been compromised, given Hermione's failure to apparate there."
Dumbledore continued. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to do something difficult: revisit a deep wound of your past for a while. The safest place for Hermione right now - and you, for that matter - is a place rich in connections, in connections of unconditional love - and the best place for that, in my opinion, is in your parent's old house in Godric's Hollow, because of the bond between you and your mother, and the new one between you and Miss Granger."
Harry had not expected this. He tried to catch his breath for a moment, thinking fast.
"But Professor … Aren't I supposed to start teaching in a week? And what about -"
Dumbledore waved Harry to silence with his hand.
"You will make appearances at Hogwarts to teach your classes, along with Miss Granger - yes, we have managed to make room for her on the teaching staff - but I want you to both spend the last week of the summer in Godric's Hollow, and as much time as possible thereafter. We will see how things develop from then on.
Harry was kind of puzzled at this, but couldn't say much.
"And Harry? One last thing … Do not let Miss Granger take off that necklace - ever. It could very well save her life one day."
Harry was speechless. Once more, he felt Albus Dumbledore was many steps ahead of him. He had the distinct impression that his Headmaster had not at all been taken by surprise by all by the events that were just now unfolding.
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Hermione was breathing softly, looking very peaceful despite her ghastly appearance. The moonlight coming from the tall window in the far corner illuminated her face, and gave her a milky white color, momentarily taking away the darkness of her bruises. Harry was lying on the bed beside her, watching her as she lay sleeping, holding his head up with his elbow, gently caressing her hair with his free hand.
Harry checked his watch: it was 3 AM. She had been sleeping since the morning before, when Dumbledore had brought her from Romania. Even though he was exhausted, Harry's mind was reeling, and he hadn't been able to sleep all night. He had stayed at her side the whole time, going over and over what had happened. Weary, he laid down his head just above hers on the pillow, and buried his face in her hair, slightly wetting it as he cried silently, his heart broken at the sight of Hermione and the thought of what she had been through. The bruises on Hermione's face were horrible: her eyes were so puffy they probably could barely open, and she had a huge bloody gash across her right cheek, stretching from the tip of her ear to the side of her nose. Most of her face was swollen and discolored to a purple, blueish shade.
Anger was mounting in Harry. Who had done this to her, and why? She looked like she had been purposely beaten up physically, instead of being hit with a spell or some kind of hex. Her leg was held temporarily in a makeshift cast to stop her knee from moving. When she had fallen on the pile of trash, a shard of metal from one of the cans had lodged itself right under her knee cap, severing ligaments and many blood vessels; she had been lucky - a few minutes more could have meant death due to loss of blood.
And despite what Albus Dumbledore had told him, he felt responsible: he should have made sure she could apparate with him, he shouldn't have assumed she would follow.
Harry knew, of course, that her bruises would most probably start to heal as soon as Mrs. Pomfrey could start working on her. She had to regain some strength first, though, and she had been given a sleeping draught to make sure she wouldn't wake up before her body had completely recuperated. She stirred in her sleep, wimpering softly, and muttering words that Harry couldn't understand. She tilted her head slightly towards Harry.
"Harry, is that you?" she whispered softly, with a hint of panic in her voice.
"Yes, Hermione, it's me. You're safe now."
She moved, but winced and started crying. "Oh, my God! I - I'm in so much pain, Harry … Please hold me, okay?"
Harry drew closer, and tenderly put his arm around her, carefully trying to avoid her face which seemed to be extremely fragile.
He felt her shivering, and realized she was crying. He kissed her head softly, and held her a bit tighter. She grabbed his hand, and clutched it tight, holding it close to her face. She kissed his hand, despite the bruising on her lips.
"I love you," she wimpered, obviously in agonising pain.
Harry's heart jumped. He still wasn't used to the shift in their relationship, and to hear Hermione say this felt so wonderful.
He found her ear through her hair. He kissed it softly, and whispered back, "I love you too … I - You were very brave yesterday. You need to rest now."
"Don't leave, stay with me, okay? Don't … Don't let me go!" There was such fear in her voice as she said those words that it dawned on Harry just how traumatic their separation of the morning before had been.
"I'm not moving, Hermy, I'll be right here when you wake up, okay? I promise …"
Hermione didn't reply. She had fallen back asleep, and Harry, after a while, fell himself into a deep, restful sleep.
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The house in Godric's Hollow showed it hadn't been used in years. It was dusty, the windows had been boarded up, and the grass and other greenery ornating the lawn was at least chest high. The white picket fence surrounding it had fallen into disrepair, and was in bad need of a paint job and of a few new pickets here and there.
The house belonged to Harry, of course, but he had never visited it. In fact, the very thought of coming back here had never even crossed his mind. The emotions he felt, however, told him that this place was special. There was something in the air, a kind of aura, that gave Harry a sense of utmost security.
Dumbledore had called up a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix in Godric's Hollow for the Monday night following Hermione's escape from Romania. He had also invited Ron and Ginny, as well as Neville and Luna to join in the meeting. Of course, Harry and Hermione were already there, having used the same Portkey to get to the house during the afternoon.
They were all sitting in the living room now: Ron was sitting on a comfortable, squash leather chair, Ginny was curled up on the two-seater besides Neville, and Luna had taken to squatting on the thick rug on the floor, leaning not so discretely against Ron's legs. Harry was sitting on a large sofa with Hermione, who despite great improvement still bore the ghastly traces of her encounter of the weekend - her face was still very puffy and discoloured, and she was still wearing a brace on her leg to make sure her knee didn't move too much. She was lying down on the sofa, her head resting on a large pillow propped on Harry's lap. Harry was absent-mindedly caressing her hair with one hand, while holding her hand with the other. There were giggles and looks of approval around the room as they all waited for Dumbledore and other members of the Order to arrive.
Harry came out of his reverie, and suddenly noticed the smiles and smirks. "What? What's the matter?"
Ginny burst in laughter. "Well, Harry, it's just that - we're SO not used to this, it's going to take a while!" She pointed at his and Hermione's hand together.
Harry blushed, and fumbled his words. "Er, does it - bother you? I - I didn't realize I was doing that ..."
Hermione just smiled dreamily. But despite her happiness of the moment, the redness of her eyes showed she had been crying. She was only beginning to fathom the death of her parents.
She nevertheless broke the silence that had ensued. "Well, guys, this is - this has been long in the making, and -"
She turned her head up to smile at Harry, who returned her gaze, beaming.
"And it's just so - it's so wonderful!" she finished, tucking her face into Harry's chest. Harry bent down and kissed her shyly, still apprehensive of his friend's reaction.
There was a spontaneous round of applause.
"Seriously, it's about time! I don't think we could have taken a lot more of you two dancing around the obvious!" Ginny blurted, a wide smile across her cute, freckly face.
"Good evening, all of you!"
Dumbledore had entered the living room, with Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody at his side.
Dumbledore immediately sat down on a large chair, and opened the meeting on a very deferential tone.
"We have very serious matters to discuss tonight, so I will not waste any time. There are quite a few people that couldn't attend this meeting because they were on duty for the Order. We have summoned only those who actually need to be here tonight."
Dumbledore continued, as if pressed for time. "Our first order of business is to officially receive new members into the Order. As of this evening, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood are official members of the Order. I have, of course, obtained their consent on a personal basis before doing it officially tonight. Does anyone object to these appointments?"
Dumbledore looked around, and saw smiles of pride all around. Mad-Eye's magical eye was spinning quickly in all directions, apparently making sure everyone was sincere.
"Of course, there is no need to welcome Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, since they have been members `by exception' for the last year, due to their exceptional contributions during the last conflict …"
There were nods of approval, and those present turned to Hermione, giving her compassionate looks.
"Excellent! We now need to talk about the new threat that is upon us." Dumbledore had gotten up from his chair and was pacing the living room, his eyes shining and showing a new level of intensity.
"A new Dark Lord has risen from the ashes of Voldemort. I have good reasons to suspect he is no other than our old friend, Lucius Malfoy. However, he seems to have acquired new powers - powers that used to be Voldemort's …"
There were murmurs of shock across the room. Everybody looked at each other quizzically, wondering how that was possible.
"Yes, I can sense the question everyone is dying to ask … Well, there is an old, black magic curse, called the Heritage curse, that allows one to - `live on', shall we say - through another. It has its advantages - the main one being that all memories, powers and personality traits are transferred into the recipient …"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "But, it has disadvantages, I take it?"
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Yes, although I doubt very much that Voldemort shared that information with our unfortunate Malfoy. The downside of it, mainly, is that the human brain - even a wizard's - must be `short circuited', in a sense, to accommodate for the new information. It is often more than the recipient can take, and many do not even survive the curse. For those who do, there is a price to pay: their life expectancy is often dramatically cut short, sometimes by as much as half! So Malfoy could have as little as five or six years left before he is forced to transmit Voldemort's knowledge to someone else."
Ron smirked triumphantly. "I always knew the Malfoys were stupid gits!"
Dumbledore looked at Ron with a reproachful look.
"The worst mistake in war, Mr. Weasley, is to underestimate the enemy! He could know about this already, and be planning to prepare his son, Draco, to take over. And then, we would have to deal with him for a much longer time."
Hermione jumped at the name of Draco being pronounced. Harry, who still had no idea who had attacked Hermione, put his hand on hers to soothe her. She clutched it nervously, and Harry could swear he had heard her utter a very faint wimper.
But Dumbledore was not finished. "Now, Lucius Malfoy has taken on a new `identity', of sorts. He now calls himself … `Mal-de-Mort' …"
Again, Ron laughed. "Isn't that incredibly cheesy? I mean - Malfoy plus Voldemort, equals Maldemort? He could have been more original, no?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, and spoke with authority for the first time.
"Ron, did you never pay attention in French class when you were young? `Voldemort' is French for `Flight of Death'. Now, `Maldemort' is French also, you could translate it as `Plague of Death' … Which would imply, I think, that this new `Lord' is even more evil and destructive …"
"Well I'm sorry - `My parents don't take me to Paris every year for vacations, and -"
"RON!" Ginny blurted, looking at him scathingly for his obvious lack of sensitivity.
Hermione's mouth opened, but she didn't have the strengh to berate Ron; tears just started streaming down her face. She hid, again, in Harry's chest, and she grabbed his sweater with her free arm. As she shook with violent sobs for a while, nobody said anything. Her muffled screams of despair were almost unbearable.
Befuddled, Ron whispered, "I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean …" He stopped short, seeing that any apology was useless.
After a few minutes, Hermione's tears relented. Dumbledore spoke again.
"Yes … What Miss Granger said is quite correct: a `plague' is indeed upon us. The terrible, unfortunate attacks on her parents - and on scores of Muggles in general - show they will stop at nothing to achieve their goal, which remains unclear at this time. However, one part of their plan seems to include targeting Miss Granger. I am researching this further, and will share my findings at our next meeting. In the meantime, I want Harry and Hermione to remain here, and each and everyone of you to continue your daily activities. I will assign you with specific tasks when the time is convenient …"
Mad-eye spoke, with surprising softness in his voice. "Dumbledore, I think that out of respect for Miss Granger's grief, we should conclude the meeting now."
Dumbledore agreed. "Indeed, I believe the time has come to leave these two alone …"
Slowly rising, everyone bid Harry and Hermione goodbye, and gathered around a tea pot on the kitchen table - the Portkey that Dumbledore had used for transportation - and an instant later, they had left.
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Harry came back and sat back down besides Hermione, who was no longer lying down. She had laid her leg on the small table in front of the sofa, and seemed lost in her grief. It was, however, the first time they were alone together since they had fought in Romania.
Harry remained silent for a while. All of the sudden, he wasn't sure quite what to say.
Hermione didn't seem in the talking mood either. After Harry sat, she just leaned her head against his shoulder.
"Oh, Harry, what is happening to me? My parents are dead - and - and … look at me, I'm a mess … I'm in pain, I'm hideously disfigured, I can't walk properly …"
Suddenly, she hid her face with both her hands, and blushed furiously.
"Do you still love me Harry?"
Harry gasped. "Of course, Hermione! Why would you think otherwise?" He immediately put his arm around her, and held her silently for a while.
She finally whispered, with a desperate voice, "Look at me!"
Harry looked at her, and then kissed her slowly, cupping her fragile face softly with his hands. He felt a rush of extreme happiness as he finally pulled back. He looked at her straight in the eyes, and spoke gently.
"Hermy, these are just bruises … They haven't changed anything, you're still … The love of my life, and you will always be. I'm just sorry it took so long for me to see it."
This seemed to cheer Hermione up, bringing a faint smile to her face. "I love it when you call me that, Harry! It's definitely better coming from you than Grawp!
They both laughed at the thought of Hagrid's half-brother and giant, who still lived in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. He had been the first to call her "Hermy".
Gloom suddenly appeared on Hermione's face, as if she had just remembered something painful.
"Harry!? When we were back at the house … You - you killed someone!"
Harry had not forgotten, but had hoped she wouldn't bring it up. It had been bothering him somewhat, but it had been - after all - necessary.
"Hermione, it's … It wasn't the first time. I've killed in battle before, during our sixth year, when you and Ron were, you know … `together' … I never talked to you about it then …" He paused before continuing, seeing that Hermione was clearly uncomfortable.
Hermione was now avoiding Harry's gaze.
"Dumbledore explained to me that when we are at war, rules of war apply. Rules of engagement, of sorts. When the enemy attacks, one is allowed to defend himself and the cause for which he is fighting. This applies to life-threatening hexes or curses - I had no choice, Hermione! The Death Eater nearly missed me with the Death curse, it was him or me - or worse: you."
Hermione looked at him, aghast. "Harry, I'm so scared! I … I don't want to lose you, not now!"
Harry's throat suddenly clenched. "Hermy, I - I thought I lost you the other day, and I couldn't bear the thought of it. I'm - I'm terrified too, now. But we can't just give in!"
Hermione snuggled up closer, wincing as she moved her leg, and leaned on his chest. Harry gently stroke the outline of her jaw, ending at her lips, with his free hand.
"Does it still hurt a lot?"
Hermione gave him a conniving, voluptuous grin. "Not when you touch me like that, it doesn't!"
Harry felt a rush of warmth and emotion overpower him. He started kissing her passionately, and she gave in, wrapping her arms around his neck. For a while, there was nothing else that mattered in the whole world for either of them.
"Harry?" Hermione whispered, after what seemed an eternity. "Did you … miss me, when I was with … Ron? I mean, that whole year, we barely talked. I know it almost killed me, being away from you like that … That was such a mistake!"
Harry smiled. "Well, I think it was the beginning of … this, to tell you the truth! Being away from you made me realize how much you meant to me. When I saw you at the end of the summer of our sixth year, my heart nearly stopped. I never thought I'd miss someone so much, but there you were: bushy hair, rosy cheeks, and especially, those shiny brown eyes, and that smile. And - you weren't holding Ron's hand. Somehow, it made me feel good to see that."
"Well, you nearly killed me with that hug, that's for sure!" Hermione grinned.
"I missed you horribly, to answer your question … That whole year, I felt really alone, abandoned even."
This made Harry think of a more recent event. He looked at Hermione with a stern, guilty look on his face.
"Hermy? I'm - I'm so sorry I left you down there last Saturday … I assumed you were following me, I should not have left you alone …"
Hermione shuddered. "It's not your fault, Harry, I couldn't apparate! How stupid is that?"
Harry gave her a reproachful look. "You heard what Dumbledore said, the house has been compromised!"
"Well, you were able to apparate!"
Harry paused. "Yes, but I live at Grimmaud Place, and I was perhaps - more focused - at that moment … Maybe I was just lucky."
Tears welled in Hermione's eyes as she thought of that day, and of her parents.
"Why me, Harry? Why Mum and Dad? They never did anything, except … love me! Oh, I miss them so much, Harry! Why is this Maldemort after me? Why does Draco hate me so much?"
Harry's anger suddenly rose. "What did you say? Why would you think -"
And suddenly, understanding struck him in the stomach like a ton of bricks.
"Hermione?!? Did … Did Draco Malfoy do this to you?"
Hermione looked at Harry imploringly, and just melted into tears. "Yes! He wouldn't stop hitting me, I thought my head was going to explode, and I thought he would kill me. And then! Harry, he tried to force me to … kiss him, but I -"
Harry was seething with rage now. "He did WHAT?"
Hermione was wailing. "Why, Harry? Why would he be so … cruel to me?"
Harry couldn't answer. He was fuming, and had never felt such fury.
He looked again at Hermione, burning in his mind the image of the bruises on her face. He pulled her towards him, and hugged her for a long, long time. She didn't move, and neither did he … Each moment, it seemed, was so precious, that they both didn't want any of them to end.
But he muttered under his breath, low enough that Hermione didn't hear him.
"Malfoy, your time will come. You WILL pay for this …"
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