The Growing Darkness & the Fading Light
Chapter 4
Harry enjoyed another dreamless night, awaking to the sensation of Hermione's fingertip tracing the scar on his forehead. Her fingers radiated warmth, driving the ever-present ache in his scar to the back of his mind. He lay there for several minutes enjoying the tenderness of her touch, however, she seemed to have noticed his deep breathing become shallower as he transitioned from sleeping to wakefulness because she pulled her hand away quickly, bringing it to rest lightly on his chest. The absence of her caress heralded the return of the throbbing in his scar and left an intense desire for her touch again, stronger than what he had felt when he handled the Dark Arts texts in Grimmauld Place.
"Why'd you stop?" he asked, cracking his eyes slowly. He was still lying on his side on the common room couch facing her. She had propped her head up on her elbow and was smiling nervously at him.
"I... I just-" she fumbled, looking away. Harry smiled at the typically verbose Hermione struggling for words.
"Got caught with your hand in the cookie jar?" he offered.
"Something like that," she said shyly.
Before the nagging voice in the back of his head could tell him he was making a mistake, he found himself lacing his fingers into hers. Hermione's eyes darted briefly to their interlocked hands and back to Harry's eyes, a relieved smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"It felt good," he said. "It was the first time in weeks that it hasn't hurt."
He squeezed her hand gently before speaking again.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Yeah, I am," she said before looking away with a sad sigh. "I'm so sorry, Harry."
"What do you mean?"
"Here I am, supposing to be strong for you and I end up falling to pieces," she said guiltily.
"Hermione, you, of all people, have nothing to apologize for," he said sincerely. "I slipped off the deep end last night. You did nothing more than voice the same concerns I've had too. Don't ever apologize for speaking your mind to me. It's one the reasons I lo-"
Hermione's eyes widened slightly.
"-that you're so special to me," he finished. "You're my voice of reason, the only one who keeps me sane amidst all this rubbish."
Hermione was breathing deeply and her eyes became misty before she dropped her head to his shoulder and looped her arm around him, tracing indeterminate patterns on his back.
"Thank you, Harry," she murmured. "Thank you."
Harry kissed her softly on the forehead and pulled her into himself. Having her this close was exhilarating. Gone was the sense of simple comfort her embrace had given him in the past. It was replaced by a burning need and a sense of fulfillment so deep that he felt his chest constrict with every touch of her flesh against his.
Harry's thoughts drifted back to his first flying lesson and chasing after Neville's Rememberall. That was the first time in his life that something had felt so absolutely perfect; Hermione held intimately in his arms like this with her breath dancing lightly across his neck was the second. He continued to hold her close to him, reveling in her nearness before the rational side of his mind spoke up, reminding him that he had lessons that day.
"C'mon," he said softly, "we can't stay here all day."
Hermione propped her head on her elbow again and looked at him.
"Why not?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Harry's jaw went slack as Hermione laughed.
"Get up, you oaf," she joked, pushing him gently off the coach.
Harry laughed, but began musing over what exactly she had in mind as they proceeded upstairs individually and got cleaned up and ready for the day, meeting back in the Gryffindor common room half an hour later. They left for the Great Hall with rumbling stomachs, walking silently and were halfway there before Harry figured out what was different about Hermione. For the first time that he had noticed, she was wearing perfume.
"You're wearing perfume," he said bluntly.
She smiled demurely at him.
"Do you like it?" she asked hopefully.
Harry nodded.
"It's nice and subtle," he answered truthfully. "I think it's perfect for you."
Hermione smiled again, apparently very pleased with herself. However, a very unpleasant thought occurred to Harry.
"Is that the stuff Ron got you last Christmas?"
"Oh, god no," she answered quickly. "Ron bought me a witch's perfume. And as much as I love the wizarding world, I will always prefer muggle perfume. That stuff he bought smelled like an odd mixture of seaweed and doxy spray. I bought this a few days ago."
Harry was relieved. He hoped she had dumped the stuff that Ron had given her down the drain.
"We're going to have to tell him, you know," he said seriously.
Hermione was silent for a moment before she responded.
"I don't know what we would tell him?" she challenged. "Nothing's actually happened yet. We're getting there, but I would like to keep this between us until we're both ready."
Harry felt guilty at the subtext of her words. He was the holdup, he was the reason they would be hiding this from Ron. When they spoke to Ron about this, it wouldn't be a pleasant conversation, he knew, but Harry didn't want to dwell on unpleasant future events today. This was his last day with Hermione; he wanted to make the most of it.
"So you don't think we should tell him we slept together?" he teased sinfully.
Hermione looked scandalized, but he could see a slight smile around the edges of her mouth. "We did not sleep together, Harry Potter!" she snapped, slapping his arm playfully.
"Twice," he countered.
Hermione huffed audibly and picked up her pace. Harry had to skip a few steps in order to catch up. They reached the Great Hall and Hermione couldn't keep up the charade any longer. She gave him a last spiteful glare, before smiling at him and walking into the hall to see that Professors Dumbledore and Snape were already sitting at the lonely table set in the middle of the hall.
Breakfast went quickly. Although Dumbledore was always entertaining company, the pallor Snape threw over the table prevented Harry or Hermione from fully enjoying themselves. Harry and Hermione rose to leave after finishing their meals when Professor Dumbledore addressed Harry, holding his pocket watch.
"Harry, I want you to meet me back here in twenty minutes. We will begin your Portkey lessons then. After that you will have an hour break before meeting Professor Snape in the Entrance Hall."
"Yes sir" Harry answered.
Harry and Hermione left, taking their time walking to the library and keeping their conversation light and pleasant. Neither seemed in a rush to get there, but the deadline of meeting Professor Dumbledore forced each step.
"I'd better head back," Harry said when they had finally reached the library. "I'll meet you here in an hour?"
Hermione nodded and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. The kiss just caught the corner of his mouth and judging by Hermione's resultant blush and muttered goodbye, it wasn't unintentional.
Harry watched her retreat into the library. Part of him wanted to follow her inside the library and pursue that kiss more, but thoughts of the damage it would cause held his body in check and he turned to walk back to great hall cursing Voldemort and prophecies the whole way.
His lesson with Professor Dumbledore went well. Portkeys, it turned out, were pretty easy to create. Determined concentration on the destination and the time of activation was all that was required in addition to the simple incantation. As wizards aren't a terribly focused lot, this was the crux of the Ministry's motivation to keep tight controls on their creation. However, by the end of the lesson, Harry was able to transport himself to various points around the Great Hall. The headmaster was suitably impressed at the ease with which Harry picked up the ability and informed him that it would be more difficult as the distance traveled grew, but that he was confident, that Harry would be able to move on to apparition by the start of the following week.
As Harry departed the Great Hall to meet Hermione in the library, his thoughts returned to her half kiss when he left. He could feel his resolve weakening where she was concerned and felt horrible about it. It seemed to him that he was clinging to her as he sank into an abyss, using her as his lifeline, but he remained fearful that her ability to anchor his descent was limited and he would end up dragging her down with him.
It was with a heavy heart and a guilty conscious that he found her in the library. Unsurprisingly, she was thumbing through a book eagerly. When she heard him approach, she leapt to her feet.
"Harry," she said, rushing to his side and shoving the book she was reading into his hands, "I've found something that I think will really help with your Occlumency lessons! It's a series of mental exercises that help you clear your mind. I think if you do this before going to bed, you'll be able to block out Voldemort's attempts to influence your mind at night."
She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. Harry flipped through the pages she had marked, smiling at her giddiness. She did seem to have come across something very useful. From his rapid scan of the text, it seemed like this would be exactly what he needed.
He closed the text, setting it on the table carefully and turned to Hermione.
"Thank you," he said softly and without thinking, enveloped her in a hug. "You are far too good to me."
She seemed to treasure the hug and squeezed him back tightly. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest as he held her. The scent of her perfume wafted through his nose and brought an adrenaline rush and he found himself staring into her hopeful eyes as they reluctantly drew apart. His resolve was weakening, but not yet destroyed so he placated his adolescent instincts by bringing a hesitant hand to her face to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear, tracing the edge of it delicately.
"Thank you," he repeated in a whisper.
She gave him an anxious smile, but held his gaze. The moment to kiss her was now, he knew, but it came and went as Harry was unable to resolve the dispute in his head. She nervously pulled away from him and sat back down at the table picking up another text laying there. He retrieved the book she had given him and took the seat opposite from her.
The remainder of the hour passed in an agonizing, awkward silence. Harry began reading at the first page that Hermione had marked, but found himself sneaking furtive glances at her from beneath his eyebrows and noted that she too, despite her renowned studious nature, seemed to be stuck on the same page of her own text. Finally, he closed his book with a snap, announcing that he had to go meet Snape in the Entrance Hall.
"I'll walk with you," she said, closing her own book gently. "I need a break anyway."
"Well, well, the lovebirds have arrived," Snape drawled when they entered the Entrance Hall.
Harry's jaw clenched, but he ignored Snape and turned to face Hermione, stepping between her and the Potions Master.
"You should go. I'll deal with the Prince of Darkness," he added with a nod over his shoulder.
Hermione's face was red with embarrassment, but she was composed as she nodded back, gifting him with a sympathetic smile.
"I'll meet you here at lunch, then?"
Harry said good-bye before following Sna
pe's billowing cloak down the stairs to the dungeons. He expected Professor Snape to lead him into the usual Potions classroom, but he strode by it without a word before stopping further down the hall in front of a door that Harry hadn't been through before.
Snape opened the door and strode into the inky blackness that lurked behind it. Harry followed suit, lighting his wand as he went. He wasn't more that a few steps into the room when the door slammed shut behind him. Harry turned to see the lock slide into place at the edge of his wand light with a disheartening click. He turned back to the looming darkness to find Professor Snape out of sight, apparently somewhere beyond the fringes of Harry's sphere of light.
"Put out your wand, Potter," Snape ordered from the darkness.
Harry wasn't too keen on plunging himself into total blackness with his beloved nemesis lurking out of site in a near empty castle. The situation just didn't feel right and he hesitated.
"Put it out, Potter," Snape snarled from somewhere to Harry's right.
Harry turned to face where he thought Professor Snape was standing, before extinguishing his wand. He heard the click of the Potions Master's heels circling and rotated on the spot to follow the sound as it traveled around him. Snape circled him several times without speaking as if he were sizing him up like some nocturnal predator.
"Light is defined by the natural occurrence of darkness, Potter," Snape hissed, still circling. "In this room, we are blanketed by the absence of light. You, with all your Gryffindor courage, are at a severe disadvantage in a duel at this moment."
Harry tensed, anticipating an attack, but the rhythmic clicking of Snape's heels never ceased; he never heard any muttered incantation.
"Your wand can be charmed to prevent it from lighting," Snape continued. "In that environment, the best you can do is cast spells randomly hoping to hit your target." Snape heels stopped and his whispered incantations were spoken in rapid succession carrying through the room with its usual command.
"Nox Aerturnus. Nigrum Aspectus. Umbrae Passus."
Harry knew attempting to light his wand would be useless. He had reached the end of his patience with Snape's little game. He crouched and crept silently toward the sliver of light indicating the entrance to the room.
His instincts and quick reflexes saved him. He dove aside at the first sound of Snape's incantation, crashing hard into what seemed to be some kind of column. The stunner missed and Harry was able to recover from his collision with the stone pillar and cast his own stunner back to where he guessed Snape was prowling.
He felt a point of pressure in the small of his back and knew Professor Snape had him. "Not nearly close enough," Snape whispered into his ear. "Professor McGonagall said you wanted to be an Auror, Potter. You have a long way to go if you wish to survive your first week on the job. Finite."
Harry felt Snape's wand drop from his back and heard his heels clicking once again as the Potions Master strutted away. Snape stopped quickly and torches flared to life along the walls of a large room with three rows of six columns, each as wide a man and running the length of the room. At one end of the room was the door through which they had entered, the other end held a large table that appeared to be empty.
"Three simple spells known to virtually all dark wizards defeated you Potter. The first will prevent an opponent's wand lighting, the second and third allows the caster sight despite the darkness and silences his movements. You have proven yourself to be a competent dueler in the past. Do not relax your guard in any of our lessons again."
Snape turned with his usual flourish, moving to the end of the room opposite of the entrance. Harry followed slowly and silently, gripping his wand tightly. They reached the empty table and Snape waved his wand, revealing a familiar tome wrapped in a midnight blue leather cover. Snape brought one of his pale hands lovingly on the cover.
"This will be your new bible," Snape said before turning to face Harry quizzically. "Do you believe in God, Potter?"
"I suppose," Harry answered with a sardonic snigger.
"What about when you die, Potter?"
"When I die…" Harry began bitterly, "I expect to find him laughing."
"Indeed, I guess that makes two of us. Perhaps, we are not as different as it might seem-"
Harry was sick of this crap and his frustration from the last few weeks erupted.
"We are very different!" Harry retorted harshly. "The Dark Arts is not something I choose to play with for amusement! I am only here because of the rubbish Trelawney spouted before I was born!"
Harry cast his wand roughly onto the table, folded his arms gruffly across his chest, and took a few steps away from Snape, berating himself for his outburst. In his anger, he didn't hear Snape speaking.
When he came to, he was propped against one of the pillars and unable to move. He opened his eyes to find Snape squatting in front of him, his black eyes glinting dangerously.
"I told you to never lower your guard, Potter." he spat.
Harry anger hadn't abated any, in fact, the knowledge that Snape had hit him in the back while unarmed and the accompanying pain in his body only inflamed his previous anger more.
"Go fuck yourself!" he attempted to shout, but no sound came out of his mouth.
"Silencing charm," Snape said nonchalantly. He stood up and walked a few steps away before beginning to pace casually in front of Harry. "It is your turn to listen, Potter, and as you can see, I will not tolerate any further interruptions. First thing you must understand about these lessons is that this is the business of the Order of the Phoenix. As such, I am not bound by the normal restraints of my position as your professor. Second, the Dark Arts aren't something you play with," Snape paused and looked coldly at Harry, "they play with you if you are not vigilant..."
Snape's words hung thickly in the air for several moments as he and Harry exchanged poisoned stares.
"And lastly, you will confine your pathetic whining to Gryffindor tower. As I tried to teach you before during Occlumency, your emotions are a liability. You will control them and use them to your benefit or the Dark Lord will feed you to the wolves."
Snape casually waved his wand and Harry was able to move. Harry suspected that he could speak again as well, but was brimming with rage and didn't trust himself to hold his tongue if he spoke. Harry sat up and immediately marched purposefully over to the table, retrieving his wand. He turned and cast a vicious glance at Snape. Snape sneered in return.
"Well Potter, I see you are learning quickly. Continue to control your emotions like you are now and you will survive your experience with the Dark Arts. If you had been this quick a study in Occlumency, perhaps your dear godfather might still be with us."
Harry knuckles whitened around the shaft of his wand and he took a malevolent step towards Snape before the rational side of brain kicked in and held him back. Snape was clearly goading him, trying to see how far he could push Harry. He stood there glaring dangerously at Snape, fighting to even out his breathing. Snape inclined an eyebrow appraisingly.
"Interesting," he muttered before walking back to the table to retrieve the book resting on its surface. "Don't you worry, Potter, you will have the opportunity to exorcise your demons. These classes will be practical in nature. We will leave the theoretical work as your homework." He held out the book to Harry. "You will research the spells I performed when we first arrived and be able to perform them flawlessly when we meet tomorrow."
Harry read the cover of the book Snape was offering him: Delving into the Dark Arts.
"I have this," he snarled through gritted teeth.
Snape again looked at Harry curiously.
"Then you will have no trouble providing me with twelve inches of parchment detailing the limitations of the spells and their respective counters when you arrive tomorrow."
Snape tucked the book under his arm and strode from the room without sparing Harry another glance. The torches fizzled out at the door snapped shut behind him. Harry was left alone in total darkness.
"Lumos," he muttered with a frustrated sigh. His wand didn't light.
"Asshole," he breathed as he stumbled his way toward the crack under the door.
A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this. I had really hoped to post about once a week, but the holidays being what they are, I was pretty busy visiting with family and such and unable to write as much as I had hoped despite having two weeks off of work. I hope everyone enjoyed themselves and kept safe. So that means… review time (I have next to no shame). Please let me know what you thought, good, bad, or otherwise. Thanks!
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