A/N: As always thanks to everyone for the kind words of encouragement. This is my first endeavor into a fanfic of prolonged length so I hope I can maintain your interest throughout.
The Growing Darkness & the Fading Light
Chapter 3
Harry had his first dreamless night in weeks. The nightmare came upon waking.
A scuffling sound startled him from his sleep. He peeled his eyes apart to find Professor Snape standing over him, with undisguised anger etched across his face.
"I have seen many disgusting things in my life, Potter," he said acidly, "but nothing as revolting as you and little Miss Know-It-All falling in love." He uttered the last word as if it were something repugnant that could only be found underneath a rock.
Harry struggled for a retort, but opted to glare openly at Snape as his brain wasn't up to the task of trading barbs just yet. He untangled himself gently from Hermione, wincing as she stirred in her sleep.
"We'll be ready to go in five minutes," Harry croaked.
"You'll be ready to go in three minutes," Snape hissed. "And next time you'll tell me before inviting along any stragglers."
Harry's face flushed red at the slight to Hermione, but he smothered the brewing fire, contenting himself to stare defiantly at Snape's back as he strode from the room.
Taking a calming breath, he turned back to Hermione's sleeping figure. Her head had fallen to her chest, obscuring her face in oceans of hair. She had clearly sacrificed her comfort for his, leaning her back against the desk drawer handles and tucking her legs awkwardly beneath her.
Harry squatted down in front of her, tenderly pushing the hair from her face. "Hermione," he breathed. She moaned and shifted a bit, but didn't wake. "Hermione." A little bit louder this time.
Her eyelids fluttered open and she gazed absently at him for a moment before becoming fully alert.
"Harry," she whispered. eHeHH
"Yeah," he answered softly. "C'mon, Snape's in a right wicked mood so we need to get downstairs quickly." He grasped both her hands and pulled her to her feet.
They both hesitated, still grasping each others hands and standing toe to toe. The intoxication of her nearness brought his senses to full awareness. His pulse quickened at the feel of her breath mingling with his in the inches that separated them. He could still see the salt tracks from the previous night's tears marring her smooth skin.
He tugged a hand free of hers and raised it to her cheek, using the pad of his thumb to erase the tracks on her cheeks. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, delighting in his touch.
"I'm sorry I made you cry," he said gently.
She opened her eyes slowly and reached her free hand up to press his hand into her cheek.
"Harry," she answered quietly, "don't apologize. You've been asked to bear more than any person has the right to ask of you. And as bad as I want us to happen, I know the depths of your heart and I don't want to jeopardize what's happening here because we tried to push ourselves too quickly."
She grudgingly pulled his hand from her cheek and squeezed it in her own. "It'll come, Harry. When you're ready, it'll come."
Harry sighed and looked down at their clasped hands, "You deserve better than this, you know. You deserve more than what I can offer you now."
To his surprise, she laughed softly. "Perhaps, and one day I plan on collecting in full. For now, though we'd better hurry up. I expect Professor Snape is having kittens down there."
Harry smirked and proceeded to extract his trunk from underneath his bed. Without time to change, he hastily stuffed his books and clothes into his trunk. He hesitated for the slightest moment before pocketing the mirrors and his wand while Hermione collected her bag from the foot of her bed.
Harry followed Hermione to the kitchen, the successive thumps of his trunk banging down the stairs ringing loudly off the walls. They found Snape waiting in the kitchen, brimming with impatience.
"Perhaps, Mr. Potter," he said upon their entrance, "Miss Granger is too much of a distraction for you to keep your appointments. Perhaps, you would be wise to proceed to your future commitments alone. It would be awfully inconvenient of you to be off entertaining yourselves in a broom closet when the greater wizarding world requires your services," he alleged malevolently.
Hermione's face turned a violent shade of scarlet. Harry stepped between her and Snape, doing little to hide the fury seeping out of his every pore.
"Perhaps," he seethed, "you should just tell us how we are getting to Hogwart's and leave well enough alone."
The corner of Snape's mouth turned up in triumphant smirk, but he said nothing as he retrieved two objects from the table next to him. He strode over to them, holding out a spatula for Harry to take.
"Portkeys," he said, giving no other explanation. Still angry, Harry took the spatula roughly and waited for further instructions. Snape turned to Hermione saying sweetly, "For the little wife." He held out a rolling pin.
Hermione snatched the rolling pin violently, looking ready to bludgeon Snape with it, but restrained herself, gripping it with white knuckles. Snape turned from her, moving to address them both. Harry shared a frustrated glance with Hermione behind his back before Snape spoke again, sneering.
"Your portkeys will take you directly to the entrance hall in Hogwart's castle. I will apparate ahead to the gates outside of Hogwart's to ensure that there are no obstructions awaiting us. In the event there are problems, I will immediately return here to inform you. Miss Granger's portkey will initiate first. Assuming all goes well and she arrives safely, Potter, your portkey will trigger five minutes after that. Do you understand?"
Harry and Hermione nodded. Snape stepped forward, pointing his wand at Hermione's rolling pin. He closed his
eyes for a moment, concentrating.
"Portus," he said before repeating the process for Harry's spatula. Without another look, he
disappeared with a soft crack.
"Bastard," Harry muttered.
Hermione sighed heavily as she hitched her bag up on her shoulder. She stepped over to the kitchen table and sat down.
"How long you figure before these kick in?" she asked, raising the rolling pin.
"'Bout five minutes, maybe ten." He said, yawning. "It'll take the git that long just to walk up to the entrance hall."
Harry sat down beside her, resting his head on the table atop his folded arms. Hermione smiled tiredly at him and closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. They waited in comfortable silence until Harry heard a small intake of breath from Hermione and felt the weight on his shoulder disappear. He cracked his eyes to see that he was alone in the kitchen; Hermione's portkey had seemingly activated. Harry stood up, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and grabbed the handle to his trunk. Tapping the spatula impatiently on the top of his trunk, he waited until he felt the customary jerk in the pit of his stomach and was soon careening on his way to Hogwart's, bumping roughly into his trunk the whole way.
The landing was jarring and Harry couldn't keep his feet. Professor Snape was standing off towards side of the entrance hall nearest the dungeons, smirking at Harry's awkward arrival.
"So much for the legendary Quidditch reflexes of the great Gryffindor seeker, eh Potter? Perhaps spending the last year in the stands has dulled your abilities."
"Yeah, and maybe this year Malfoy will be able to distinguish a snitch from a bludger." Harry snapped as he clamored to his feet.
Snape ignored Harry's comments and began issuing orders. "Take your belongings to Gryffindor tower. Breakfast will be available in the Great Hall at eight. The headmaster expects you in his office at ten.HH"
Snape turned on his heel without offering any further details and descended into the dungeons. Harry shook his head bitterly at Snape's retreating form before turning to see that Hermione had apparently experienced similar success with her portkey as she sat nursing a bruised knee on the bottommost steps leading to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers. Harry pulled his trunk over to Hermione and helped her to her feet.
"How's your knee?" he asked.
"A little sore. I can't wait to learn to apparate so I don't have to deal with these ridiculous portkeys or the Knight Bus anymore."
Harry pulled out his wand as she spoke and shouldered her bag. "I know what you mean. Hopefully, by the end of summer, I won't have to deal with them anymore."
Hermione was confused. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, I never got a chance to tell you last night. Dumbledore arranged for me to start apparition training this summer."
Harry enjoyed the shocked expression on Hermione's face for a moment before levitating his trunk, guiding it alongside him as he started up the steps to Gryffindor tower. Hermione rushed up after him and began her interrogation.
"Why do you get to start early? You're not even sixteen, let alone seventeen yet!" she said, clearly affronted that Harry would be learning to apparate before she would.
Harry's chuckled to himself causing her to huff audibly. Clearly, taunting Hermione with his newfound privileges would be considerable fun. Perhaps even more fun that it would be to lord them over Ron.
"Dumbledore made a series of requests to the Minister, asking that I be allowed certain exemptions from wizarding law," he said.
"And what, exactly," she said indignantly, "would these exemptions be?"
"Learning to apparate, of course, as well as full wizard status as far as performing magic goes-,"
Hermione huffed again.
"-and members of the Order can create portkeys without registering them."
Despite enjoying every huff immensely, Harry thought a little flattery might assuage Hermione's irritation some.
"You know, a bright witch once told me, many times I might add, that you can't apparate into our out of Hogwart's so I'll be using portkeys to get to and from my apparition training."
Hermione's scowl evaporated and she beamed at him proudly.
Harry smiled, but it faded quickly as he recalled Dumbledore's last request to allow him to perform the killing curse. He decided to keep that particular exemption to himself; he didn't want Hermione to know about that if he could at all help it. And, he reasoned, the Minister had not yet agreed to that request so there was no reason to worry Hermione with that bit of information anyway.
They reached the Gryffindor common room and separated to store their belongings in their individual dorm rooms before meeting back up in the common room. They spent the remainder of the morning wandering around the grounds, enjoying each other's company and stopping only to eat breakfast.
Eventually, ten `o' clock rolled around and Harry was due to meet the headmaster.
"Do you want to come to meet Dumbledore?" Harry asked.
"You go ahead," Hermione answered. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you alone."
Harry nodded, "Where should I meet you afterwards?"
Hermione's eyes brightened, "Where do you think?" she teased.
Harry laughed, "I'll see you in the library then."
Harry waved goodbye and marched off to the headmaster's office. He reached the statue outside Dumbledore's office before realizing that Snape had conveniently neglected to tell him the password. He tried the passwords he knew Dumbledore had previously used with little hope before visualizing the shelves in Honeyduke's Sweet Shop and rattling off the names of the treats he could recall. He was halfway through the second shelf when the statue leapt aside to reveal Professor Dumbledore waiting for him.
"Come on up, Harry," Dumbledore said before turning and walking up the steps.
Harry followed him into his office noticing that everything had been restored to proper working order since his last, somewhat less than cordial visit to the headmaster's office. He sat down in the chair opposite Professor Dumbledore's desk and waited for the headmaster to speak. Dumbledore took his seat behind his desk, reaching for a sheet of parchment to his left. He held out the parchment to Harry.
"Harry, this is a schedule of when you will be conducting your training this summer. We will be treating this summer much like any other school term. You will attend individual instruction during the week much like you would attend classes normally. You will have four hours of training each day. You will spend one hour each day learning to create portkeys or apparate. Another two hours will be devoted to Dark Arts training with Professor Snape and you will have a final hour prior to dinner each night learning Occlumency with me."
Harry looked over the schedule Dumbledore had given him as he explained it, nodding as he went. Dumbledore continued.
"Your evenings and weekends are yours to do with as you please. Of course you will have research and assignments to complete, much as you would have during a regular term. You will also have a one week break midway through the term and prior to the start of fall term to recuperate."
"Recuperate?" Harry asked.
"Yes, Harry. As you know, Occlumency can be quite taxing on the mind. Study of the Dark Arts can have a similar effect as well. I expect you will be able to create portkeys and successfully apparate by your first break. After that, your lessons with Professor Snape will be longer and more intense. As such, your body will be requiring significant periods of rest. You will find that week break to be much needed when it arrives."
The now familiar sense of foreboding slipped into Harry's mind, putting him on edge.
"Anything else?" he asked cautiously.
"Just one more thing, Harry." Dumbledore began. "I want you to be completely open with me regarding your studies this summer. If you ever feel overwhelmed, excessively tired, or anything else out of the ordinary, I want you to speak frankly with me as soon as possible. I expect that this will be a challenging summer for you and want to ensure that you are successful with the tasks set before you."
Harry regarded Dumbledore curiously before responding.
"I will Professor. Do I begin today?"
"I think we can delay the start of your lessons until tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of the day with Miss Granger," he said with a mirthful undertone. "The two of you have the rare opportunity to enjoy free reign of Hogwart's today without being disturbed by other students. I understand she will be here tomorrow as well, but I don't think we can delay any further beyond today. I expect the Restricted Section of the library will keep her properly occupied while you otherwise occupied."
"We get access to the Restricted Section?"
"Yes, Harry. You will recall that the Restricted Section houses books for students studying Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. Your lessons with Professor Snape will require you to have access to those texts and the two of you will be using that area extensively this fall. I expect she will be more than delighted to read ahead. Although," he raised a knowing eyebrow, "I wouldn't torment her by withholding this information for too long, I do believe she will be reaching her seventeenth birthday this fall and I am certain she knows that a fair deal more creative spells than you do at the moment."
Harry suspected Professor Dumbledore had been using Leglimency, as he had been toying with the idea as soon as the headmaster revealed their access to Restricted Section, but didn't say anything. He laughed softly and rose to leave the office. "Thank you, Professor."
Dumbledore nodded and Harry left the headmaster's office, walking rapidly to the library. He knew Hermione would be ecstatic about having access to the Restricted Section and he couldn't wait to see the delight on her face. He found her near the back of the library, sitting at one of the long study tables reading a book entitled, The Dark Arts and Its Repercussions. Harry swept into the chair opposite from her, grinning ear to ear.
"Hi, Harry," she said quietly without looking up. "What did Professor Dumbledore want?"
"He wanted to discuss my schedule this summer and added a new privilege to my growing list," he said conspiratorially. Her head snapped up to look at him suspiciously as he gave her the most mischievous smile he could exhibit.
"What now?" she said frowning.
"Oh, it's nothing you need to concern yourself with," he teased, standing up and marching towards the Restricted Section.
"Harry Potter!" Hermione exclaimed loudly, fortunate that Madam Pince was not present during the summer holidays. "What is this new privilege you're talking about?"
Harry ignored her and strode up to the rope barring entrance to the Restricted Section, standing before it appraisingly.
"You know," he said seriously, "it's a pretty dumb rule that we can't use these books until the beginning of the school year."
Hermione had stood up and was walking impatiently towards Harry.
"Yes," he continued, "quite the dumb rule."
He reached over to remove the rope when Hermione's shrill voice stopped him.
"What do you think you're doing?" she said, grabbing the rope to prevent him from undoing it.
He turned to see her irritation begin to spill over and knew he had pushed her about as far as he dared. One corner of his mouth turned up into a half-smile before he spoke.
"I am exercising our new privilege."
The irritation in Hermione's face evaporated. "Our?" she questioned, raising her eyebrows.
Harry pulled the rope free of her grasp, leaving an opening for her to enter.
"Yep," he answered, holding his arm outward to indicate that she should enter first. "After you."
The smile that sprung onto her face could've launched a thousand ships. She squealed in glee and darted into the Restricted Section, tugging Harry along behind her.
They skipped lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon in there digging through the gold mine of new books. Harry finally appreciated Hermione's excitement whenever she found a particularly interesting read; the variety of different spells, enchantments, and protections against the Dark Arts scattered amongst the numerous texts was so enthralling that Hermione was the one to tear Harry away hours later when the rumbling in her stomach became too much to ignore. She grabbed The Dark Arts and Its Repercussions and pulled Harry bodily from the library.
It was almost five `o' clock when they arrived at the Great Hall. There was only one small table setup in the Great Hall and it didn't appear as if dinner was going to be served anytime soon so Hermione suggested they head down to the kitchens and see if they could get some food from Dobby beforehand.
As always, Dobby was exceedingly accommodating and provided them with a small feast. They left the castle and headed down to lakefront to eat and enjoy the warm summer evening.
They spent two hours eating and talking and for the first time in a month, Harry felt uncharacteristically carefree. He forgot about the horrors of learning the Dark Arts from Snape, he forgot about losing Sirius, he forgot about the weight of the prophecy. He was simply Harry, not The Harry Potter and he was able to enjoy sharing an excellent meal with Hermione, who, until recently, was his best friend. Now she was something of uncharted territory. Not his girlfriend, but something significantly more than the best friend she was before her arrival at Grimmauld Place the day before.
The evening sun was approaching the horizon and they fell into a comfortable silence. Hermione sat leaning against a tree quietly reading The Dark Arts and Its Repercussions while Harry waded knee-deep into the lake, skipping stones across its smooth surface as he mused over the change in his relationship with Hermione.
He knew where she stood. She had removed the mantle of friendship long ago and stood holding it in one hand, the other hand clutching a lover's shroud securely, waiting patiently to adorn it. For his own part, he grasped the cloth embodying their friendship tightly to his chest. It strengthened him and forever remained untainted by his presence. But as his gaze fell on the lover's shroud held tentatively in his own hand, a panic seared through his soul despite the radiance it emitted. The gleaming white fabric could scarcely hope to withstand resting against his bloodstained robes.
The stones left his hand seemingly of their own accord, falling to rest at his feet beneath the water. His body followed them down as he sunk to his knees, ignorant of the fact that he was fully dressed. He wanted to wash it all away, to cleanse himself of the filth in his life, to emerge untarnished and able to love without committing Hermione to an early grave.
The sound of Hermione calling his name intruded on his sullen thoughts. The feel of the cool lake water against his skin came back to him in a rush and he realized how absurd he must look to her. He stood up and began trudging back to the shore. Hermione ran out a few steps into the water to meet him.
"Harry! Are you okay?"
Her eyes were lined with concern.
"I'm fine, Hermione. Just in a bit of a daze, that's all," he answered mechanically.
He knew he hadn't fooled her for one minute, but she didn't seem to want to press him.
"Come on. Let's get you up to the common room and changed into some dry clothes."
Harry nodded and helped her gather up the remnants from dinner. The walked in silence to the Gryffindor common, Hermione casting furtive glances at Harry periodically. They reached the common room and Harry lazily pulled out his wand, casting a spell to ignite the logs in the fireplace. Hermione sat down on the couch and studied Harry while he leaned against the fireplace, attempting to dry off.
"Wouldn't you rather just change?" she asked.
"Good idea," he said blankly. "I'll be right back."
Harry climbed the stairs to his dorm room and walked to his bed, pulling open his trunk to find a clean set of clothes. He placed his change of clothes on Ron's bed next to him and began undressing. As he did so, he tugged free his and Sirius' mirrors from his pocket. He examined them sadly for a moment before setting them next to his clean clothes and resuming his changing. He finished dressing and headed back down to the common room.
He found Hermione staring into the fire, watching the dance of the flames. At the sound of his footsteps approaching, she looked up him and smiled gently. He sat down next to her and began staring into the fire himself. They sat in silence for a few moments before Hermione spoke.
"Talk to me, Harry," she queried.
"We've talked all day, Hermione." Harry said evasively.
"I mean really talk to me, Harry," she pleaded. "About Sirius. About the prophecy. About studying the Dark Arts. I understand that you have the world and more on your shoulders, but if you want me to wait for you, you need to let me help you walk that road. I need to walk that road with you."
Harry sighed heavily and leaned forward, letting his head sag and resting his elbows on his knees. He ran his hands roughly through his hair trying to discover why he didn't want to tell her everything. Was he just trying to protect her from the pain? Was he afraid of showing weakness? Was he just playing the tragic hero?
"I wouldn't know where to start, Hermione," he said wearily.
She slid over next to him and laced her arm inside his, bringing her hand up to intertwine her fingers in his. Harry knew that this gesture of intimacy was heading in a dangerous direction, but he couldn't find the voice to object to the comfort of having her hand in his.
"Start with Sirius," she whispered.
Harry closed his eyes. His jaw tensed as the familiar grief burst through the dam he had erected to hold back the pain.
"It hurts," he choked out. "It hurts that he never got to live the life he deserved. It hurts that I'll never know what its like to have a father."
Hermione brought her free hand over to enclose his in both of hers. She rested her head against his shoulder and he felt the slightest bit of moisture seeping through his shirt.
"I wish I could bear this pain for you, Harry," she said softly.
Harry's opened his eyes.
"Don't. I wouldn't let you take it if I could give it to you." He gently pulled his hand free and turned to face her directly, looking hard into her eyes. "I deserve this pain, Hermione. It reminds me to do everything I can to protect those that are still with me. I won't ever let it go. I need to carry it with me."
Harry stood up and walked to the window overlooking the grounds, gripping the window sill tightly.
"Sirius is gone," he said stonily. "I can't change that. And as much as I've blamed myself and Dumbledore for it, it all comes down to Voldemort. If you take Voldemort out of the picture, none of this ever happens."
He turned to face her with a look of cold fury on his face.
"I'm going to kill him. Not because of some damn prophecy, but because I want to." His voice grew in volume with every word. "For my mum. For my dad. For Sirius. For everyone whose ever died because of the fucking bastard!"
Hermione wasn't just weeping softly anymore. She was openly crying, staring at him with a look of fear in her eyes. He was scaring her.
Harry forgot his anger instantly. He rushed over to the couch, kneeling in front of her. He grasped her folded hands in his, looking up at her pleadingly.
"Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. My anger just got the better of me. Please… please stop crying."
"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, wiping the back of her hands across her eyes and trying to pull herself together. "It's just…with you studying the Dark Arts this summer, it scares me to see this anger in you. I've been reading about it and the Dark Arts feed on every negative emotion there is! They end up consuming the wizard that's using them! I'm scared that I going to lose you, Harry, that I'm going to lose the person I-"
"You won't lose me, okay." He climbed up onto the couch and cradled her in his arms, rocking her back and forth slowly. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here. I'm still your Harry, okay? I'm right here."
Harry held her that way until she stopped crying. She was still clinging tightly to his shirt so he kicked off his shoes and lay down with her on the couch. She rested her head on his chest while he stroked the hair out of her face, still trying to soothe her. She soon fell asleep and Harry began to feel his own eyes getting heavy. As he drifted off, he noted with a soft chuckle that this was the second night in a row that he had slept with Hermione. At least Snape wouldn't find them like this again.
But that's just how Snape found them in the morning.
A/N: Just kidding about Snape finding them! I couldn't resist the temptation to scare you! Anyway, tomorrow will begin the descent into the Dark Arts for Harry as well as the beginning of the rest of his training. Let me know what think. Cheers!
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