Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Special thanks to Anna Rose!
-
Ch34: A GIRL NAMED HERMIONE
The hand that wrote this letter
Sweeps the pillow clean
So rest your head and read a treasured dream
I care for no one else but you
I tear my soul to cease the pain
I think maybe you feel the same
What can we do?
I'm not quite sure what we're supposed to do
So I've been writing just for you
(Letter to Hermione by David Bowie - sorry, I couldn't resist!)
Dear Harry,
First of all, I hope you are all right. I can't even begin to imagine what you must have gone through. Snape showed Ron and I a little of ... your situation in a Pensieve and it looked terrible. It breaks my heart to know that what I saw only was a small part of it and that you have suffered for so long with the Death Eaters.
Everybody told me I had to prepare myself for the fact that I may never see you again. I refused to believe all hope was lost, however. I know you, you're a fighter. A real hero. If anybody can survive it's you. The thing is, when the mirror you gave me stopped working I had no choice but to believe you had died. I didn't know what to do. I'm nothing without you.
Recently I saw an article about you in the Daily Prophet. They claimed they had seen you in Diagon Alley and that you are still alive. Of course, we both know that we have to take everything that paper says with a grain of salt, but so many saw you that day. I actually went there to ask around. Even Tom was certain he had seen you, even though you looked very different from what you used to. (I must admit I'm a little worried about that.) Another person I talked to assured me that he had even seen your scar. It must mean you are still alive, so I don't know what happened to the mirror. It's still not working.
Harry only understood half of what the letter said. Yes, he had been with the Death Eaters for a long time, but he hadn't suffered all that much from what he could remember. Except from the potion, there wasn't much to complain about being the Dark Lord's Heir. He had also been in Diagon Alley, but only for a short time because he had been trying to get away from the Death Eaters and the Aurors. The person who had written the letter made it sound like he or she knew him. He refused to believe the letter had been sent to the wrong person so that meant it had to be someone from his former life.
Harry almost bounced in his bed from excitement, but a part of him couldn't help feeling suspicious. He continued reading.
Here at Hogwarts things seem to be just the way they have always been for the untrained eye, but it's not. It's simply not the same without you. The tension has been thick ever since you got taken, but it's better now as people know you are still out there somewhere. Draco does his best to take control over the DA. I think he frightens the other students. He's much worse than Zacharias Smith! No one (except Ron, Ginny and I) dare to fight him anymore. He uses a lot of dirty tricks all the time. Now that can be a great way to learn tactics, but the DA is faltering. Fewer and fewer show up at the meetings. We're not a team anymore.
Ron and I argued a lot in the beginning after you were taken. We seem to have reached a sort of understanding now though. We're not what we used to be but we're friends.
Sorry, I'm babbling. Just thought you may be interested in what's going on here. I suppose I should get to the reason I'm writing this letter in the first place.
I miss you terribly. Please come back. We need you. I don't know what to do without you. I'm really sorry for the way I treated you that night. You must think I'm a horrible person. You didn't deserve it and I shouldn't have said what I said. I should've known that Lestrange wouldn't be the only one they would send to get you. I should've stayed with you as I said I would. I don't think I can ever forgive myself. I beg you, give me another chance and come back. Use the portkey I added with this letter. Come back to me. Please.
I know we can win this war if you do. I know we can fight anything as long as we're together.
With all my heart,
Hermione
Harry didn't know what to feel or what to believe. The name Hermione did sound familiar to him, but he had no idea from where. It could be the same girl as the one from his dream, but where was the chance in that? He wondered if this girl meant Bellatrix or Rodolphus when she said that `Lestrange had come for him.' That had to be when the Dark Lord had sent for him. What Harry didn't understand was if the Dark Lord had done more to get him or if Harry had come by his own free will. He thought he had, but the letter made it sound as though they getting him had been a bad thing.
What Harry did realize, however, was that he had been to Hogwarts before he arrived at Stone Edge. He knew that was the place where the children of many Death Eaters went. Harry wondered if he was close friends with any of them, or if this Hermione girl was or would be a Death Eater as well. She hadn't told him her last name. Her parents could be anyone.
There was another letter as well. Only that one was from another person and wasn't nearly as long. The handwriting wasn't as neat as Hermione's either, so Harry figured it had to be a male.
Hi Harry.
How are you? I guess that's a stupid question. Of course you're not all right. I'm just not as good on this stuff as Hermione is. You're my best pal and I hope you come back. We have a game of chess to finish.
Sorry I didn't know what else to say. I'd rather talk to you in person.
Ron.
Harry sighed. If anything he was even more confused. He had no idea who this `Ron' person was either.
He decided to write a reply back to the both of them.
Hermione and Ron,
I have no idea what you are talking about. Please explain.
Harry.
He turned to Hedwig who was still resting on his shoulder.
"Take this back for me girl. I don't care who gets it." The owl gave the letter Harry had in his hand an ugly look, like she would rather eat fruit than deliver it. She turned her head and stared defiantly the other way.
"Do not be a baby. You are an owl and owls are supposed to deliver letters!" The owl cleaned her feathers for a moment with a disgruntled expression, but in the end she gave in and stuck out her foot.
"See? That was not so difficult, now was it?" Harry rose from his bed and opened the window. "Here you go. Now go on."
When Hedwig refused, Harry took a firm grip with both hands under her body and threw her out the window. The owl dropped a few feet, but quickly regained control and continued her mission.
Harry laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time. He wondered slightly if he had two versions of himself. One that longed to cause pain and have as much power as possible and another part who longed after making things right and be accepted by the people around him. It seemed to be affected by his mood, but the problem was that his mood was just about as predictable as the weather. It could be sunny one day and rainy and stormy the next without warning.
The thing that confused Harry the most was definitely himself.
-
-
By midnight Harry started to worry about Annie. She had promised to come home two hours ago and she usually rang if she changed her mind. Of course, Harry knew there was a possibility that she had simply forgotten about it or decided she didn't need to tell him everything she decided to do in her free time, but it would be very unlike her. He hoped her boyfriend hadn't done anything to hurt her. If she disappeared Harry had no one to go to and he rather enjoyed her company.
She rarely asked him questions about his past and if she did Harry knew she would have the right to know. She never asked him to do something out of the ordinary and she seemed to know when he needed to be alone. She respected him without being scared. If he acted like a selfish brat she would tell him so. It was good to know where he had her. It made him feel like he had some control over the situation he was in.
Harry finally heard Annie arrive half past twelve. He pondered a moment whether or not he should say hello to her or pretend he was sleeping, but in the end he decided he wanted to know why she had been so late.
Apparently, Annie wasn't doing all that great. She had a angry, lavender colour mark in her cheek and Harry realized she was going to have an ugly bruise. That Luke Joans guy really had the nerve to hit her in the face?
"Annie?"
When she saw she was not alone she quickly turned her face away from him. "Hi, sorry I'm late," she replied, breathing deeply as though she was trying very hard not to sob. She fumbled with her purse as though she was looking for something, but Harry suspected she only did it to keep her hands occupied.
Harry didn't buy it, but he also didn't know what to say her. Was this really his problem? Was it his responsibility now, to make sure she was all right since she had done the same for him?
When Harry thought about it, he realized that it was his responsibility now. He owed her his life for taking him in. It was like an unofficial life-debt. He wouldn't die if he didn't repay it because she was a Muggle, but he felt as though he had to do something. It was below him as a wizard not to do so.
"I'll go to bed soon," whispered Annie, still with her back to him. "You don't have to wait up."
"Lord," breathed Harry. "What did he do to you?"
Annie stiffened. "Nothing. We had a row that's all."
"He hit you, did he not?" said Harry, not really asking.
"Well, yeah, but-"
"I will kill him," said Harry, meaning it.
"-but I broke up with him like you suggested," finished Annie, ignoring what Harry had said. Harry noticed her voice quivered slightly when she continued. "I realized it couldn't keep going the way it had. That doesn't matter now though. It's not like he'll have the chance to do anything anymore."
"Okay," said Harry. "But he better not bother you again. Or me for that matter."
"He said I wouldn't get rid of him that easily," replied Annie hesitantly. "He was quite angry. It sounded like a threat, though on the other hand he often says things he doesn't mean." She had stopped searching her purse. Instead she turned around and was looking at Harry with a rather odd expression.
"What?" he asked.
"Thank you. For being here. I didn't know you had it in you."
"Me neither," Harry confessed. He knew he had changed in the short time he had been in West London. He suddenly had a reason to care about other things than himself and the Dark Lord's wishes. He suddenly found himself incapable to hurt an owl he could barely remember the name of. Harry felt a cold shiver run down his back. Did that make him weak? Would that make him an easy target?
Maybe it was his way to rebel against the Dark Lord. He could still feel the affect the potion had on him, like something was waiting for him in the back of his mind. However, as long as it didn't grow stronger he knew he was more than capable of controlling it. He would not succumb to the darkness, to nothing.
Harry cleared his throat and looked Annie square in the eye. "Would it not be wonderful to have something to protect yourself with? Something that you can use as a weapon if you wish, only it is not a gun. Would it not be wonderful to give Luke a little bit of his own medicine? How much would you hurt him to feel you have given him an appropriate punishment?" Harry didn't know why he was asking her these questions, but found himself waiting anxiously on her answer.
Annie was looking at him with a slightly suspicious glint in her eye. "I wouldn't kill him if that's what you want to know. I'd be tempted to cut off his manly pride though. Maybe that'll cut his ego down a notch. But I'm not sure what kind of weapon you're talking about. There's lots of things you can protect yourself with, but it's not common to carry those items wherever you go."
"You should have something," said Harry seriously. "You never know when you may need it. You may not know it, but we are living in very uncertain times. There is a war going on between two different groups in our society."
"Were you from one of these groups?" asked Annie quietly. Harry realized that his attempt on getting her mind on other things were only half working and that she was still thinking about it. Either that, or it was her way to try to know more about his past.
On the bright side, she was not crying.
"Yes, I was," Harry finally replied. "That is why I know. I just want you to be prepared in case something happens."
Annie walked over to him then, suddenly, and placed a warm palm on his cheek. "You are sweet. I am really glad I took you in." She removed her hand again. Harry noticed her eyes were very blue, especially in the dark. She looked a little uncertain.
"Can you stay with me tonight? I don't want to be alone. Not after what he did."
Harry hesitated only for just a moment. His mind immediately returning to the way Bellatrix had tried to seduce him. It had been a fun game, but very dangerous. This was very different. This was Annie. A girl that had saved him. Now it was his turn to return the favour.
Harry smiled at her, suddenly feeling a little shy. "Yes."
Annie gave him a quick, grateful hug. "Thank you! Let me just brush my teeth and I'll be right up."
-
It was weird not to sleep in the same bed as he had been sleeping in the last weeks, Harry concluded as he laid down beside Annie, who let one of her arms rest across his chest.
Annie's bed was much larger than his and she had different sheets with a large, knitted blanket over the both of them. Her curtains were knitted too and the walls were filled with pictures and paintings. She had told him a quick story about how she used to draw when she was younger and how she never seemed to find the time anymore. Harry thought they were quite good and had told her so, but she had brushed it off like it was nothing.
For some reason, Harry thought the walls missed bookshelves. It seemed natural to him that every room should have at least one set of school books. Besides, books could give him a better idea of who Annie was as a person. He had began to know her quite well of course, but he didn't know any of her secrets and he didn't know simple stuff as her favourite colour.
It didn't take long before Annie was fast asleep. She breathed heavily, but otherwise she didn't make a sound. She let her hand support her head, only using a small corner of the pillow to sleep on.
Harry sighed and closed his eyes. He was feeling like a mess again with all that was going on in his life. The few things he did remember only served to confuse him. He wondered if normal people like Annie ever felt the way he did. He supposed they could all be uncertain about their futures and afraid their boyfriends may hit them, but could it really be compared?
Harry didn't think so.
-
Harry never slept well that night and he opened his eyes before Annie did. He had a lot of unwanted, dark energy in him. He knew he had forgotten to get some of that energy out before he went to bed and now he was paying for it. He found himself tired, restless and sweating. The cold ball in his stomach forcefully reminded him that he should have taken action a long time ago. Harry bit down on the pillow as hard as he could. He couldn't start cursing birds in Annie's room and from the sight of it he was not getting out of his position easily.
Harry noticed that Annie's pillow was now completely abandoned and was laying on the floor. Instead she was using him as a pillow and had tangled her smooth legs neatly between his. Harry doubted he could move without waking her, but he tried anyway.
So much for the effort. As soon as he had struggled himself out of Annie's bed without waking her, Annie's cell phone rang. She turned and reached for it - still half asleep - and pushed down the little green button.
"Hello?" she asked groggily, her voice barely recognizable. Suddenly she sat up a little straighter. "What? No!" She suddenly adapted a scared expression and her eyes became rather wild. "Absolutely not! ... you wouldn't dare!"
Harry watched her, unmovingly. She had yet to realize he was there.
"What do you mean with `You'll wait and see?' What part of `bugger off' don't you understand? NO! As a matter of fact, I'm visiting Christina tonight! ... that's none of your business. You had your chance and you ruined it. Don't blame me for it and don't ever call me again!" Annie hung up the phone and in a fit of anger she threw her phone away. It hit the wall with an audible crash and fell apart, its pieces flying everywhere.
"It was him, was it not?" asked Harry unnecessary, eying her cautiously. Annie started.
"Oh gosh, you scared me!" she seemed to sober up a little and eyed her now ruined phone with a regretful look. "Yes, it was Luke. He's such a git. Thank God it's Friday."
"Oh well," said Harry, thinking that it didn't really matter for him as he didn't go outdoors anyway. He only stayed in the house; sometimes with Annie, sometimes with a couple of birds, sometimes alone.
Annie seemed to know what he was thinking. "Hey, why don't you come along tonight? You haven't met Christina yet, have you?"
Now it was Harry's turn to be surprised. "What? Oh. No I have not, and yes I would love to come with you." Annie flashed him a bright smile. Harry smiled back carefully.
"Brilliant! We leave at six o'clock this afternoon. Make sure to be ready by then! I only have three hours of classes today so it shouldn't be a problem. What do you want to drink?"
"Drink?" asked Harry, but almost immediately realized she had to mean alcohol. "Oh. I do not need anything."
"Don't be stupid," said Annie, looking annoyed. "What do you want?"
Harry fidgeted for a moment. "I suppose a bottle of wine is satisfactory."
"Any special kind?" asked Annie distractedly, no longer sounding annoyed as she took some clothes out of her wardrobe and put them on right in front of him. Harry tried not to be too distracted, but it was rather hard. It wasn't everyday he had a girl changing clothes right in front of him!
Harry wondered if he was supposed to look away or not. Didn't she want him to see her when she changed right in front of him?
"Does not matter really," he mumbled. "Buy one you like."
"All right," said Annie, pulling on some dark blue jeans. She suddenly noticed his gaze on her and winked at him. Harry stared back at her with a challenging look, cursing himself mentally for putting him in that position. Looking away was a sign of weakness and she probably knew it too.
Or else she was definitely getting the wrong idea.
When Annie was done dressing, she grabbed her makeup purse and headed for the bathroom. However, when she walked past Harry she slowed her walk ever-so-little, letting her hand slide across his chest lightly before continuing on her way. Harry shot her an incredulous look she didn't notice and sat back down on her bed.
"Bloody hell!" he muttered to himself, shaking his head. Was every girl that crazy? That flirting, that devious, that unpredictable?
Harry chuckled to himself. Here he was, the former Heir of the Dark Lord, sitting on a bed in a Muggle house with a Muggle girl wondering if this girl was completely out of her mind. Something was very wrong with that picture. On top of that, he noticed he was shivering like he was suffering from fever. He knew he had to use Dark Arts and he had to use it now.
Harry eventually got up from his bed and bent down to pick up his shirt and wand. He never noticed Annie returning before she was standing right in front of him. Harry started and the wand fell down to the floor again with the shirt on top of it, fortunately blocking it from Annie's sight.
"You seem awfully tense," said Annie, reaching up to massage his head. Harry tensed automatically, something that did nothing to dismiss her suspicions about him being tense.
"I am fine," Harry insisted, but Annie was having none of it. Before he could think of a way to gently get her mind on other things she had placed herself behind him and was working with her hands on his back.
At first it was very painful and Harry wondered to himself why people would ever request for a massage. Then, however, he felt himself relax. It felt rather good actually - he could practically feel his blood stream ease and the knots on his back loosening.
Annie made a disapproving sound in the back of her throat. "If I didn't knew better I'd say you'd never had an massage in your life, this is practically dreadful, you're nothing but knots and knots and knots and knots..."
Harry gave a mental shrug and ignored her voice. How could he know if he ever had a massage or not? As far as he knew he hadn't. What Annie did to his neck and back didn't feel familiar at all.
Harry surprised himself when he felt a low moan escape his throat and his eyes widened in surprise. Moaning was unacceptable! Another sign of weakness! If he did that in the Dark Lord's presence, he would get punished.
Annie didn't seem to notice him moaning, or she found it completely normal. Harry smirked. To Obliviate her because of something like that would be comical to look back at.
"There," said Annie. "Feel better now?"
Harry nodded. "Thanks."
"No problem." Annie flashed him another bright smile before trotting out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen. Harry picked up the Dark Lord's wand and went to the bedroom he was accustomed to. There, he silenced the room, opened the window and summoned a bird.
-
The day went by in a flash. Before Harry knew it, it was time to go to Annie's friend Christina. Harry had small regrets about the whole thing. It wasn't for a small reason that he stayed in Annie's house all day. What if a Death Eater or an Auror spotted him? What would he do then?
Annie found Harry a white shirt and some black jeans. Harry liked the clothes, they fit him and made him look older somehow. It would also be easier for him to blend in the Muggle society, an advantage he could need.
Harry tried not to complain too much when Annie attacked his hair with a comb. It was a lost cause and they both knew it, but that didn't stop Annie from trying.
"Doesn't it ever lay flat?" she muttered, dragging him to the bathroom where she took a handful of water and splashed it over his head.
"I just took a shower," muttered Harry. "You do not need to make it wet all over again."
Annie made a growling sound in the back of her throat and combed his hair rougher. Harry wondered if she was ever that careless with her own hair, but by the look of her long, smooth hair it was rather doubtful. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a dark green top that fit her figure nicely. On the top of her head she wore a black, feminine hat. Her hair was neatly hanging on her sides.
Harry's thoughts drifted back to the letter he had received the day before. He wanted to know who Hermione was. He was curious about this Ron guy too, but Ron's letter had been so short while Hermione's had been so much longer. More personate and more intimate. He was certain he knew that girl from somewhere and she obviously knew things about him that he didn't know himself. Perhaps if he met her he could learn some new things about his past?
-->