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 9
THE DARK SIDE OF HARRY POTTER
"CRUCIO!"
Draco Malfoy started writhing in pain, screaming and desperately fighting to remain conscious. His Master was pacing around the center of the cave nervously, and his face showed he was in a blinding fury.
"How could you let her escape? We had her!!" spat Maldemort, white with rage. Behind him stood a dozen Death Eaters, including the ones who had witnessed the scene between Draco and Hermione.
Draco's face twisted as he volunteered an excuse. "I just wanted to make her suffer a little, Master! I - I - I wanted revenge! From her and her friends, W - Weasley and P - Potter!"
Maldemort was hysterical. "FOOL! You stupid fool! If you had just taken her, and followed the orders, she would be here now! And we could be moving to the next phase of our plan! But instead, we are back to square one! What is even WORSE, you have awoken the suspicions not only of the dreaded members of that foul Order of the Phoenix, but of Potter as well! They will make sure they protect the Mudblood now! It will be almost impossible to get to her! AND … THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" Maldemort's wand was still raised, and the curse was taking its toll on Malfoy. Some blood was now oozing from the corner of his mouth. But Maldemort didn't care. He tightened his grip, and tilted the wand forward cruelly.
"AARGH!!" Draco screamed, his body twisting backward as if the wand was trying to break his back.
Arched in a ridiculous posture, Draco managed to muster enough strength to talk. "Master, please! Please forgive me, I will not fail you again …"
"NO! A punishment is required this time! Your actions have severely hindered our efforts to capture the Granger Mudblood! Let's see … Oh, yes! The Incendiarus curse should teach you a lesson!" Maldemort's mouth transformed into a sadistic smile; he ended the Cruciatus curse, and slowly backed up a few steps … Then, he raised his wand high above his head and threw his arm forward as if cracking a whip. At the same time, he hissed the spell between his lips, with disdain on his face.
"Incendio!"
A yellowish orange wave of light came out of the wand, looking like an irregular strand of raging fire. The tongue of fire headed directly towards Draco, and slowly wrapped itself around his right hand. Settling around it, the tip of the flames suddenly morphed into a ball of fire, engulfing his entire hand and wrist. Draco raised his arm in horror, his face twisted in a pitiful expression of shock and pain, his mouth opened wide and yet unable to speak even the faintest of sounds. He tried, desperately, to shake off the flames now eating at his fingers. It was a ghastly sight: the strand of fire was connected between Maldemort's wand and his own hand - distinctly visible inside the ball of fire - in a strange arch of blazing flame. Or, more precisely, what was left of his hand … Indeed, the flesh of his fingers was starting to liquify, and thick, oozing drops of melting skin and muscle started streaming down his wrist, somewhat evoking of lava coming down the sides of an erupting volcano. Slowly, some drops began falling on the floor where he was still laying. Blood gushed out as the vessels were litteraly being burned open, only to quickly vaporize as it met the heat of the flames.
After a few minutes, bones started appearing through the strands of melting flesh, and Draco finally managed a way to express the pain … He screamed and yelled in agony, pulling mightily at his arm to try to wrench his hand away from the hold of the spell - but to no avail. There was almost no flesh covering his hand now, as if it had been replaced at the wrist by a bony, charred, squeletal hand. Draco's face was wet with tears as he continued tearing the room with horrible shrieks of pain, still clutching his arm. The bones finally caught fire and disappeared in smoke. Draco passed out, shaking on the floor like a ragdoll with convulsions.
Maldemort, after a few seconds or so, flicked his wand upward. The beam of fire instantly disappeared … He approached Draco's limp, unconscious body, and kicked it rather violently to the side, turning the body over. One could still see the expression of agony on Draco's face, but especially, one could not fail to notice that his remaining hand was still gripping his right forearm. But where the hand should have been, only a smoky, smouldering stump remained, crowned all around the tip with horrendous looking half-melted pieces of flesh, reminiscent of the solidified drops of wax remaining around the top edge of a recently extinguished candle.
Maldemort, still enraged, turned towards the Death Eaters; none of them would have dared utter a single word.
"THIS", he said, "is the price for not following Lord Maldemort's orders! I hope this serves each one of you a lesson! I will NOT be disobeyed!"
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Harry woke up with a start, a white hot pain searing in his scar. He closed his eyes, and attempted to gauge why the pain in his scar had suddenly flared up.
"Legilimens", he muttered under his breath … He concentrated extremely hard: Legilimency was very difficult to start with, and even harder when you couldn't look directly into your subject's eyes.
Harry had finally mastered Occlumency during his sixth year, and always made sure to close his mind whenever he felt there might be a threat of a mental intrusion. But he had also started to practice Legilimency during his sixth year, a much more difficult skill that Dumbledore had started teaching him. He had used sporadically during his last year at Hogwarts, and even if he didn't master it perfectly yet, it had been very helpful. He had found himself able to glimpse the mind of Voldemort, especially when his scar erupted in pain - indicating a strong emotion being felt by Voldemort. Even though the channel between them usually closed quite rapidly, he had been able on some occasion to peer into the Dark Lord's mind, getting a few insights that had proven to be life-saving.
He immediately felt intense anger, like he had rarely experienced before, and for an instant a clear enough picture of the house's basement in Romania appeared in his mind, although it remained somewhat foggy. It was as if he was seeing something through a filter, of sorts, perhaps through someone else's mind. He saw Hermione, desperately holding herself on the wooden crossbeam of the unfinished wall, her leg covered in blood from the knee down. There was also a large pool of blood at her feet, and he saw on her face that she was in agonizing pain. And then, there was Malfoy … He was holding Hermione by a thick strand of her hair, and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, pulling the hair and forcing Hermione to look at him. And then Harry, horrorstruck, saw him put his wand away and start hitting Hermione violently. He winced at the sight of splattering blood as Draco's ring ripped through her right cheek. But before he could probe even further, everything went black. It was as if a curtain had been pulled over the non-existent stage of the theater of his mind … His scar exploded in pain, and he found himself being knocked down to the floor - he had been blocked out, and quite forcefully.
Harry quickly concentrated, emptying his mind of all emotions and thoughts, and almost immediately the pain in his scar subsided. He slowly opened his eyes, confident nobody could access his thoughts for the time being.
"Wow! Voldemort - er, I mean, Maldemort is really angry!", he told himself. Harry was quite distressed by what he had seen, even though Hermione had described it to him many times. Somehow, witnessing the ordeal made it painfully real, a fact which only fueled his already seething anger. He shuddered with disgust and rage.
And yet, Harry smiled at the thought that despite his vicious, unwarranted attack, Malfoy had nevertheless failed to capture Hermione, a blunder that was bound to unfuriate Maldemort. At least, there was something good coming out of the whole ordeal: Malfoy would really get it from his own father, his new "Master".
Harry's thoughts wandered again to Hermione, and the vivid scene he had just witnessed.
A burning flow of rage started boiling inside Harry's stomach. He had detested Malfoy in school. During their last year, Harry and Ron had made it their personal duty to make his life a living hell, especially when he attacked Hermione on the basis of her Muggle lineage. They had decided to turn a deaf ear to Hermione's lectures about being the "bigger" person, and to never let a personal attack from Malfoy go unpunished. Hence, during the whole year, Malfoy had been jinxed, hexed, cursed, and even punched and beaten physically - in general, he had finally learned not to mess openly with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and especially not with their Muggle friend, Hermione Granger. Though Hermione had never said anything about this, and had continued giving lectures about "taking the higher road" to her two best friends, she nevertheless had appreciated being protected from Malfoy. And according to some "witnesses", she had often blushed during her last two years of school when Ginny or another of her friends told her that Harry or Ron - but particularly Harry - had managed to shut up Malfoy with some kind of hex or curse.
But this was more than a simple verbal attack or insult she had faced in school. This was vicious, cruel and deeply personal. Malfoy had dared attack Hermione with the obvious intent of harming and humiliating her. Furthermore, he had participated - Harry was convinced of it - in the murder of her parents … Even if he hadn't been in love with Hermione, Harry knew he would still have been digusted and infuriated by his behaviour.
Before doing what he had planned to do since the day before, Harry went to check on Hermione quietly: she was still sleeping, having taken a full dose of sleeping draught the night before. She would need the rest, since she was going to St-Mungo's today to get her knee injury straightened out. The healers had examined it, and had assured Hermione that they could restore her leg completely. The process, however, would be exhausting and - unfortunately - extremely painful.
"Will Harry Potter have breakfast this morning?" Harry turned around, and was startled to see Dobby bustling in the kitchen, apparently trying to familiarise himself with the place. He figured Dumbledore had sent him since they would be living in Godric's Hollow for a while.
"Er, not immediately, Dobby, wait until Hermione wakes up, okay? We'll all have breakfast together." Harry just wanted Dobby to leave him alone for a while.
"Very well, Harry Potter, Sir! Dobby will go around to see what kind of work awaits him in this new house! It is quite dusty and unattended to, Dobby can see!"
Harry nevertheless gave him a look of warning. "Just make sure you're quiet, Dobby, Hermione needs to sleep."
"No problem, Sir! Dobby will not wake Miss Granger, no Sir!" Dobby then left the kitchen, apparently going towards the stairs that led to the second floor of the house. Hermione was sleeping in a room on the ground floor, to avoid her needing to go up and down the stairs - a complicated and painful ordeal in her situation. Harry had just slept on the sofa since his arrival, wanting to make sure he was able to hear Hermione if she needed him. They had talked about sleeping in the same room, but had quickly both agreed they weren't comfortable with the idea. Their relationship was just starting, it was intense and yet, fragile, and Harry had not even had time to fathom the full impact of their romantic involvement together. He knew Hermione was old-fashioned, and felt himself that some kind of deep commitment was needed before he could even think of anything else than just … loving Hermione with all his heart, and coming to grips with everything it meant. Furthermore, his own parents had married right after Hogwarts, and he felt strongly that this "rite" should also find a significant place in his own life.
Not to say that he wasn't was aware, nevertheless, of a fastly growing, new kind of attraction towards her, a longing for Hermione that was very physical and that he had not really experienced to that level before - not even with Cho. He tried to manage it as best as he could, given the circumstances and the way he felt about Hermione, but these days just holding her was enough to trigger a whole bunch of physical and emotional reactions … But Harry was just coming to grasp with them, and didn't want to add more confusion to their relationship.
"Everything in due time", he thought out loud, quickly and intently bringing himself back to his thought process of before he had been interrupted by Dobby.
Harry sat down at the table, picked up his quill, and slowly, deliberately, thoughtfully wrote down the words on the piece of parchment he intended to send that very same day from the Post Office :
Malfoy,
You once told me to be careful about the people I associated myself with. I, unlike you, was careful. But you certainly chose "carefully": darkness, hate, murder, torture, and death. And now, cowardice as well …
I hope you got some sick sense of satisfaction out of your actions, Malfoy, because you will not leave the next battlefield on which we meet. The last thing you will see before passing on to the next life will be my face.
That is a promise.
Harry Potter
Unbeknownst to most, with the exception of perhaps Albus Dumbledore, there was a dark side to Harry that had developed during his last year of battle with Voldemort. Harry's Headmaster was constantly warning him about not giving in to its inclinations, because it was the beginning of the path to the Dark Side of magic. However, it had been Harry's conviction of the last seven years that the end justified the means. He had never let rules, people, or anything stop him from doing what he thought was right - and this had worked for him so far. But since he had killed in battle and used Unforgivable Curses, a black cloud rested upon him: his mood was darker, his temper flared at nothing, and his rage was often difficult to contain. His friends had been the ones to suffer from it, without really knowing where it came from. At some point or another, Ginny, Ron and Hermione had all been the victims of Harry's dark side. Thinking he was just depressed by his years of fighting Voldemort, they had often tried very nicely to talk to him about it, and even though he realized it and apologized for it, he just didn't want to bother with dealing with it. The truth was, he liked it: it gave him an outlet for his emotions. In the last year, however, Dumbledore had been warning him more urgently about its effect and the danger of letting it go unchecked.
But once again, this dark side was taking over … They were, Harry reasoned, in a war. Malfoy was the enemy, and the enemy had gone too far this time: his actions towards Hermione were unacceptable, and the threat he posed to her needed to be eliminated. Despite the personal nature of Draco's attack, it had nevertheless been an act of war.
Harry reread what he had written, and then slowly, ceremoniously, took out a very sharp knife. He approached it from his arm, and winced as he inflicted a small cut on himself, right beside another scar - from which the blood that had sealed Voldemort's return had been drawn three years before. He let the blood ooze out, soaked his right thumb in it, and pressed it upon the parchment, right beside the word "promise".
Nothing would stop Harry from carrying out his threat.
Not even blood.
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"I'm scared, Ron", Ginny said as she gulped down a bite of steak. "Harry is very emotional, and this could be dangerous - for the both of them!"
Ron was looking vaguely in front of him, gazing at the throngs of people coming in the Leaky Cauldron. They had decided to go out to eat. More often than not they ate supper at Number Twelve, Grimmaud Place, where Ron lived for the time being, but Dobby had now been dispatched to Harry's house in Godric's Hollow, and none of them was really keen on cooking.
"Yeah, he's been irrational, somewhat", Ron replied, and then continued. "Do you really think he can remain cool and objective now? I mean, he had a hard time before, and now … Well, you know, with Hermione being his `girlfriend' and all …"
Ron smiled, and looked successively at Ginny, Luna and Neville. After a moment of silence, they all erupted in raucous laughter and giggles.
It was Neville that calmed down enough to try speaking first. "I mean, can you believe it? After all this time, and all the angst, and all the beating around the bush … Wasn't it obvious to all of you? Why in the world did it take so long?"
Ginny finally calmed herself, and said rather thoughtfully, "Well, Hermione and Harry are both kind of … complex individuals … Now put them together, and it makes for a very, very complicated relationship!"
Neville, however, wasn't satisfied with this explanation. "Yeah, okay, but I'm telling you -she's had for Harry at least since our fifth year, if not before! Don't you remember? She was all over Harry all the time, always making sure she sat beside him, always touching him and hugging him … She came up with the idea of the DA, she jinxed the list to make sure nobody told about it, she somehow managed to get the Quibbler interview … I mean, she was like Harry's conscience that year! Wasn't it obvious? Was I the only one who noticed?"
All three of them looked deep in thought, slowly remembering the events and nodding as if they now connected little details that they had not seen in that light before.
But Neville continued. "And besides, she was SO jealous of Cho! Wasn't it her that subtly - but surely - made sure that their relationship wouldn't work?"
Ron and Ginny suddenly looked at him with bewilderment and disbelief in their eyes. "What? Say that again? That's not possible, not the Hermione we know anyway! She wouldn't - she was always supportive of Harry's relationship with Cho, wasn't she? We didn't see that at all!!" Ginny had spoken, but Ron's expression of sheer amazement proved he agreed with her.
He was the one who spoke next. "Yeah, I mean Hermione would not have meddled like that, I think you're reaching there, Neville!"
Neville grinned maliciously. "Well, perhaps I overheard something that neither of you did … It was right after we had our first meeting of the DA. It was late, and I couldn't sleep, so I went down to the common room - however, I heard a girl's voice coming from the room, so I stopped dead at the top of the stairs. After a moment, I recognized Hermione's voice, but it was rather high-pitched, and she sounded like she was crying. So I came down a few more steps, and that's when I saw that she was going over the list from the DA meeting. And each time she read a name, she would pronounce some words and do a very elaborate flick with her wand."
Ginny, Ron and Luna were hanging to his every word, captivated: they had never known this, Neville had kept the secret to himself all this time.
Ron's face beamed with understanding. "So that's when she jinxed that list! That sure came handy when Marietta betrayed us all! But come on, mate, what happened next?"
"Yes, I realized much later that's what she had been doing. Jinxing the list, I mean, to protect us. But when she got to Cho's name on the list, she didn't pronounce the spells right away, she paused. Then, I heard her distinctly say these words, `Oh, of course, Cho Chang, Harry's little cutie! What can he possibly see in her?' There was another pause, and I thought she would just continue on with her protective spells, but all I heard then was a muffled sob. Then I heard Hermione say this, with a softer, sadder voice: `Oh Harry, why can't you look at me the same way you look at her? I would give anything …' That's when I realized that I was intruding on something very personal to her, so I made to go back up the stairs, but my foot slipped. I had no choice but to lie and say I had just arrived, since Hermione had heard and was looking up directly at me as I pretended to be coming down. I made a nice show, and asked her if she was okay - her eyes were all red and puffy. She said she was fine, that she was just distressed over the DA meetings and wondering if it was the right thing to do, etc … I don't think she ever suspected I had overheard anything she had said before."
Ron and Ginny were completely surprised. Luna didn't seem to be so surprised at this new information, but then again, it was hard to figure out Luna's thoughts sometimes.
Ron sighed. "So she WAS jealous of Cho after all … One thing for sure, when Hermione wants to hide something, she's really good at it. I mean, who knew?"
Ginny turned towards Neville, with an expression of surprise and puzzlement on her face.
"Well Neville, you've been keeping secrets, haven't you? What else do you know that you never told us?"
Neville blushed as Ginny looked at him intensely. "Oh, well, you know, I'm good at keeping people's … secrets. Even mine, for that matter!" He looked down, unable to stare Ginny in the eyes, and quickly turned to Ron and Luna, anxious to continue talking about Hermione and Harry.
"Er, to get back to my story … So I knew she was envious of Cho, obviously! But however, when the next Hogsmeade weekend came, Hermione asked me if I would go shopping with her, since Harry was on his date with Cho and you, Ron, had Quidditch practice. I gladly went, since I would have been alone to go anyway. But then, about halfway through our morning, Hermione told me she had set up a meeting with Harry for lunch! I must have reacted, because she then asked me anxiously, `What? What's the matter?' I looked at her with surprise, and just answered, `Hermione! He's on a date with Cho, don't you think it's a … bad idea that he meets with you? Today?!' She just looked at me with a slight expression of surprise, and replied, `Oh! You're right, that was today, now, wasn't it? Gosh, I didn't remember … Well, it's very important that I see Harry today - I guess Cho will have to let Harry go for an hour or so …'"
Neville looked slightly embarassed now.
"At that moment, I was sure she had done this on purpose. But maybe she just figured that Harry would be able to handle Cho better than he did, and I don't think she realized then the influence she had on Harry - something that Cho, on the opposite, seemed to have understood that very day. Anyway, I didn't feel it was my place to challenge her about that, so I just answered simply, `Well, if it's that important …'"
Everyone around the table was amazed that Neville had kept this to himself for almost three years now, yet everyone felt relieved that Hermione had not been, as he had seemed to think, manipulative and meddling.
But apparently on a roll, Neville continued.
"And that is why I was SO shocked to see you -" he looked at Ron hesitantly before continuing, "er, to see YOU and Hermione dating the year after … I mean, from my point of view, it made absolutely no sense at all."
Ron frowned, as if deep in thought. "Yeah, I guess it never made sense … Isn't it funny I was the last one to realize that?"
Ginny laughed. "Oh, don't pretend to be all offended, you knew early on, you told me!"
"Yeah, I did … It was -"
"Good evening, all of you", said a grave voice behind them. Albus Dumbledore had appeared in their midst, without any of them noticing. Ron gasped, stopping short of finishing what he was about to say. The others turned around, and recoiled in surprise at the sight of the Headmaster.
"Oh! Good evening, Professor!", Ginny said, speaking for all of them. "What a pleasant, er - yet unexpected - surprise!"
Dumbledore smirked, and said calmly, "Don't worry, Miss Weasley, I do not wish to intrude on your evening, I would just need a word with your brother Ronald."
Ron looked even more shocked. "Er, certainly, Professor, we can go at the table over there", he answered, pointing at an empty corner table."
They sat down, but neither of them spoke for a few seconds. Dumbledore was looking at Ron with his usual intense gaze, and Ron just wondered how to get out of this absolutely uncomfortable moment. He tried to break the silence first. "So … You need to talk to me, Sir?"
"Yes, Ronald, I do … I'd like to give you your first assignment as a member of the Order. You see, I fear that Harry's objectivity may have been somewhat … compromised as it pertains to Miss Granger. Wouldn't you agree?"
Ron stared at Dumbledore, puzzled. "Well, yes, of course! We were talking about exactly that, just now! I mean, he was impulsive before, and protective of us, but now that he cares for her in a `new' way, he's going to go postal if you ask me!"
"Exactly. Now, that is where you come in. I need you to keep an eye on Harry, to make sure he doesn't act impulsively in regards to Miss Granger. Like you said, he will be overprotective now, and his `impaired' judgement may hurt the both of them … Now, I will work with him on that, but for the next few months, I would need you to act as … his conscience, if you would, to make sure Harry weighs his decisions properly when the need arises."
"Well … Harry usually does what Harry wants, but okay, I can try … But how exactly do you suggest I do that? I'm going to be travelling quite a bit, and chances are I will be away from Harry and Hermione most of the time …"
The Headmaster smiled, as if he had known all along what Ron was going to say. "Well, we are in need of a flying teacher, since Mrs. Hooch left to become a professional Quidditch referee … The position is part time, so it wouldn't interfere with your Quidditch schedule. And I'm sure our students would be quite delighted and honored - as would I - to have a professional Quidditch player teaching them how to fly! …"
A few moments later, Ron made his way back to the table where Ginny, Neville and Luna were anxiously awaiting his return. He sat down, still in shock, a seemingly permanent smile plastered on his flustered face.
Ginny spoke immediately, using the tone a sister uses when she wants to extract information from her brother. "Well? Talk! What on earth was that all about?"
Ron replied simply, "You won't believe it, even if I tell you!"
He paused for effect, looking at each bewildered face.
"I'm going to be a teacher!"
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Hermione stirred, and opened her eyes. She delicately felt her cheek with her hand, trying to determine if her wound was healing properly. Despite the excellent care of Mrs. Pomfrey at Hogwarts, she was still in a lot of pain … Her leg was unbearably difficult to move, her knee still swollen and mangled underneath the thick bandaging, and her face was just beginning to find its original colour. There were good news, however: the gash on her cheek was healing, and she had been relieved to learn that it wouldn't leave a scar if properly treated. That was why she was anxious to get to St-Mungo's hospital that day, to finally get all this over with.
Slowly, each movement painful, Hermione got out of bed and found her new mean of locomotion, good old crutches that Harry had gotten for her at a nearby Muggle convenient store. With her knee heavily bandaged and immobilized, she couldn't put any weight on it whatsoever, and the crutches allowed her to move around without using magic all the time. She made it out of the room with much effort, hobbling along and trying not to wince from pain every time she hit her knee on a door frame or some other obstacle.
"It's a good thing I don't have to stay long on these awful things …" she muttered, working up a sweat just trying to move around.
Hermione shrieked as she almost got into a head-on collision with Dobby who was jogging out of the kitchen without looking at all where he was going. Startled himself, but smiling and looking at her with his large, tennis ball eyes, Dobby simply said, "Good Morning, Miss Hermione! Dobby hopes you are feeling better, and apologizes for scaring you!"
"That's quite all right, Dobby!" she said indulgently, patting the elf on the top of the head. Hermione had given up her aspirations about S.P.E.W. a long time ago, but she still believed that elves were more than just slaves, and really liked Dobby.
"Is Harry around?" she asked, suddenly realizing the dead silence in the house and noticing the folded blankets and pillow neatly piled on the living room sofa.
"No, Miss Hermione, Harry Potter had to leave to run an errand. He said he would be back soon, and that is why Dobby must now prepare breakfast!"
Hermione was surprised. What possible errand could Harry have had to run here, in Godric's Hollow, where they had barely just arrived?
Hermione sat down at the table while Dobby started preparing breakfast. She saw a roll of parchment, from which a part had been torn off recently, and Harry's quill lying on the table. She smiled, remembering the moment when she had given it to him the year before for his birthday. He had just turned seventeen, and she had felt really bad because of the horrible sixth year he'd had, when her and Ron had left him alone almost all year. She wanted to give him something useful, as was her habit, but this time she wanted it to have a very personal touch. A gift he would be seeing everyday, and that could remind him of her. She had been browsing Diagon Alley, and had seen the beautiful quill in the window - it was trimmed with gold, and made with a huge phoenix tail feather, something that obviously had a very personal meaning for Harry. It was also charmed to be unbreakable, and came with a lifetime warranty. Hermione had tried it, and had almost been tempted to buy one for herself, since writing with it was so incredibly smooth and pleasurable. It was ridiculously expensive, but Hermione had not cared: she wanted Harry to have it. She had it engraved - boldly, at the time - with the surprising words: "From Hermione. I'll always be there for you."
She had wanted to give it to him personally, but her parents had insisted she accompany them to France for the summer holidays, and she had not had the heart to say no. She had already skipped a couple of family vacations in the last year and a half, and she didn't want to hurt their feelings. She had reluctantly settled on sending the present with Hedwig, whom had just delivered a letter from Harry. And even though Harry had thanked her warmly the next time they had met, he had not said anything about the engraving. Nevertheless, she had been pleased to see him using the quill every day, and she had caught him more than once smiling as he read the engraving. There had been one time afterwards, however, when he had furtively glanced in her direction after looking closely at his quill. Their eyes had met, Harry had winked at her and pointed at the quill, and then had worded silently with his lips, "I'll always be there for you too!", pointing successively at himself and her to make sure she had understood. It had been a good thing that Professor McGonagall had seen their little game, and interrupted them:
"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger? Perhaps you could share your amazing silent conversation with the rest of the class? I'm quite sure it would enlighten us all, since I dare not assume it ISN'T about Transfiguration …"
It had been Harry who had muttered, "Sorry! No, nothing enlightening, I'm afraid. I was just, er, trying to convince Hermione to … partner with me for our practical Transfiguration session later!" Ron had turned towards him, puzzled and looking apparently offended. Harry had just rolled his eyes, looked at him and shaken his head, to make sure Ron understood it had to do with something else. It had been a good thing for Hermione that McGonagall had focused on Harry, too, because she had turned in a nice shade of purple after what he had told her.
Hermione picked up the quill, and looked at it. It was still very beautiful, even though it showed some signs of wear. The gold engraving was still very much there, and her heart leapt at the thought that it was no longer a dream, that they were both there for each other now, to the fullest extent.
But suddenly, her heart sank, and she felt a wave of coldness go down her spine, as she made a dreadful realization.
"Oh NO! Harry's birthday! I - I completely forgot!" She put her hands over her open mouth, astonished that she could have made such a blunder. She had never, in seven years of school, failed to give Harry a birthday or Christmas present. And now, at a time when maybe it should have mattered the most, she had totally forgotten …
The door opened at the same moment. Harry walked in, looking preoccupied and apparently in a very nasty mood.
Hermione didn't wait. She got up in a flash, one-hopped all the way to the door, and threw her arms around Harry's neck. She kissed him passionately, and even though he had looked surprised at first, he gently put her arms around her waist, and lifted her up a bit, as they continued kissing softly. After a while, she looked up at him, guiltily, and whispered with the most beautiful of smiles, "I'm SO sorry, Harry! Happy birthday! I can't believe I forgot!"
Harry's mood brightened instantly. He laughed and swung her up in his arms as easily as if he had just picked up his broom. He swirled around, making both of them dizzy before putting her down on the couch and almost falling besides her.
"I think", he said with a hint of glee, "that this year, I got the most beautiful birthday present from you so far!"
Hermione was giddy, and laughed as she replied, "Oh, you're so nice, but Harry - I didn't give you anything! I've been such an insensitive, selfish git this year! I was so involved in myself, and my `choices', that I totally forgot your birthday!"
With a mischievous grin, Harry just looked at her.
"But Hermione, you did give me something on the night of my birthday, at the Leaky Cauldron. You gave me your heart! That night, for the first time, I started to comprehend my feelings for you. That is the best present you have EVER given me!"
Hermione couldn't reply, and just leaned her head on Harry's shoulder. She discretely pinched herself, just to make sure all this wasn't just a dream …
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St-Mungo's remained quite familiar to Harry, since he had spent a whole month there not too long ago. He didn't really like the place, and as he sat on the hospital bed besides Hermione, who was reading an information booklet about the procedure she was about to go through, he wondered when his next visit would be. Hermione's shaky voice brought him back from his thoughts.
"I'm scared, Harry", she said, looking up at him with imploring eyes. "I mean, they say that it is so painful that patients often faint!"
Harry took her hand, and looked at her, trying to appear as reassuring as he could.
"It's going to be fine, Hermione. I had my arm re-grown once, remember? It's painful, I won't lie to you … But it's bearable!"
Hermione turned away, and looked at the window. "Yeah, well, I'm not like you, I don't know how much pain I can take!"
It was true, Harry thought, that he had suffered physically a lot more than the people close to him. He seemed to have a higher threshold than most for suffering, a "skill" he had acquired against his wishes over the last few years.
"Well", he continued, "try to focus on something else … Like me, for example!" Harry grinned as Hermione nudged him gently on the shoulder.
"That won't take away the pain, now, will it? Nice try though!"
Harry then remembered something insightful, that he was sure would help Hermione.
He gently put his hand on her cheek, and looking at her eagerly, spoke. "Remember when I was put under the Cruciatus curse at the beginning of the summer?"
Hermione's eyes went wide, and she looked at him in shock, almost insulted. "Of course I remember! That was less than two months ago! How could I EVER forget that moment, I thought … I was sure I had lost you forever!" Tears welled up in her eyes … The memory of the event was still very fresh, and she had been horrified at the thought of losing Harry without ever telling him she loved him.
"I never told you this, but you … saved me that day … It was somehow because of you that I managed to defeat the curse …"
Hermione looked at him, puzzled and curious. "What do you mean? I wasn't even there!"
Harry laughed. "I know, I know! But when the pain became too much to bear, my body started shutting down. Everything went black, and I started seeing images from my life, in slow motion. I thought, at that moment, that I was dying - since, you know, it was exactly like those `testimonies' of people who have near-death experiences and such. But then, one image came … It was your face, the same face you had when we first met on the train. And I saw it change into what you look like now, but in a weird fashion, your eyes always remained the same: you seemed to be looking at me, trying to tell me something … I could see something so deep and so powerful in your eyes, and I just focused all my energy on them ... I focused on you, Hermy!"
Hermione's heart was beating extremely fast now, and tears had started streaming down her cheeks: somehow, a very real connection had been established that day between the both of them. Indeed, when Harry had left the castle to go fight Voldemort, she had been so overwhelmed with fear and grief that she had broken down into sobs … She had found a corner in the Great Hall where nobody would easily spot her, had sat down and closed her eyes, and then she had just thought of him - how she loved him, how she hurt from not telling him, how she couldn't bear to lose him now … And apparently - miraculously - it had helped him, she had gotten throught to him.
But Harry continued, anxious to share the rest of that moment with her. "And as I focused on you, the pain diminished. That's when I realized I could fight it! And I did, and you know the rest of the story … Maybe if you focus on me during the procedure, the pain won't be so bad!"
But right then, Harry remembered something he had brushed aside before, but that now seemed to make sense.
"But - just wait a minute! When you came to me afterwards, when I was unconscious, did you - did you talk to me? Did you say something to me?"
Harry was looking at her intently, anticipating her answer.
Hermione blushed. "Well, yes, Harry, I did talk to you. I thought you were dead, you know … And at that moment, I wanted to die too …" She looked down as she said those words, trying to not think about the mere possibility of Harry's death - it was a fear that remained undeniably real to her.
She looked at him, her eyes beaming and glittery, and she grabbed his face with both her hands. "I told you I loved you, for the first time in my life. And I think you heard me, because you opened your eyes, and smiled."
Harry's heart jumped, and started racing. A wonderful, warm wave of passion suddenly ignited from the deepest part of his stomach area … He moved towards Hermione, and kissed her as she herself pulled him closer, her hands now behind his neck. In the swiftness of the moment, she lost balance and they both fell backwards on the soft hospital bed, Harry suddenly lying on top of her. But somehow, neither of them seemed eager to get back up. Harry just continued kissing her, as she slid her arms more intently around his neck and held him closer, with more intensity … Time seemed to stop for a while, as they kissed and held each other lovingly, passionately, desperately. Harry then paused for a moment, drew back ever so slightly, and just looked at her. Hermione's eyes were closed, her cheeks were flustered and red, she was panting - and she was just so … beautiful, so … inviting. Harry's chest was about to explode when she opened her eyes, and smiled. He conveniently slid to the side, still partly on top of her but now leaning more comfortably on his right elbow, with his right hand behind the nape of her neck.
"What? What's the matter?" she whispered softly, kissing him gently on the chin, eagerly trying to make her way back towards his lips again.
Harry didn't know what to say exactly. Gazing at her, unbelievably happy, he just buried his face in her hair near her ear, and simply replied, "I love you so much! It's almost too amazing to be true!"
He felt her squeeze her arms around his neck, and was once again overtaken by a wave of fiery passion. He started kissing her neck, and distinctly heard Hermione breath faster as he kissed his way back towards the front of her face, following the line of her jawbone. She had slightly, naturally tilted her head backwards, as if to make it easier for him to continue.
Harry felt boiling warmth everywhere inside, and he felt Hermione shiver as he put his free hand - the left one - gently on her now bare navel (her sweater had been slightly pulled up as Harry had slid to the side.)
"Hem, hem! … We are all set for the procedure, Miss Granger. That is, if you are, er, ready, of course … We could proceed right away!"
Both Hermione and Harry straightened up clumsily in a flash. She tried, innocently, to fix her hair, attempting to look as natural as possible.
"Er, sorry, yes … I am ready! We just … fell on the bed."
"Of course, Miss Granger, we understand. The orderly will help you get to the room where the procedure will be performed."
Harry had to bite his lip not to explode in laughter as he looked at her from the corner of his eye. But as she looked back at him with a malicious grin and unbounded love shining in her big, bright, expressive brown eyes, he was unexpectedly and suddenly struck, for the first time, with a chilling, horrifying thought …
The gripping terror that one day, sooner or later, he might be without her.
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