Chapter Thirteen: The Ties That Bind
8:11 a.m., Tuesday Morning, Sibyll's house - Killarney, Ireland
"I…I…uh…what?" Wormtail blurted out incredulously.
Sibyll crossed her arms at her chest, "Oh, sure, be that way. Of course we're not in my Divinations Room, where I just caught you with my personal belongings," she sneered, "Don't be stupid. What do you think you are doing in here?"
"How can you ask me such a thing after what you just said?"
"What are you talking about?"
Wormtail rolled his eyes, "Come on, Sibyll. We don't have time for games. Please, repeat what you just said! I would have thought you'd be more concerned with that rather than your personal belongings!"
Sibyll glared at him furiously for a second; searching him for a telltale sign that he was making things up. However, she only saw truth in his eyes, and she frowned in thought, "I…I don't remember, Wormtail," she whispered, probing her mind for something she could have said, but finding nothing.
"Then…then it really was a prophecy," Wormtail said slowly, his eyes wide from astonishment.
Sibyll's eyes shot up to meet his, "A prophecy?" She said sharply, "What-what did I say? What did it involve?" she felt faintly afraid, but was mostly filled with a grim sort of understanding as Wormtail struggled to repeat it again. Everything seemed to fall into place now-why Granger had been in the Valley of the Sage, why Severus had been summoned so frequently lately, why Dumbledore had been constantly writing letters to the Order members…
They all knew, with the exception of Granger, that the Final Battle was fast approaching.
They were preparing.
The thought of such a thing sent chills down Sibyll's spine. With an apologetic glance at Wormtail, she reached for her wand, which rested in her robe pocket. He face almost white, she whispered, "I'm sorry for what I m about to do, Wormtail, but you must know that it is for the best. Dumbledore must hear about this," Wormtail narrowed his eyes and, after a moment of silence, hurled himself towards her wand. With a sharp intake of breath as he treaded on her foot, Sibyll flung her left elbow at his face and pointed her wand at him, "Fine, if that's how you want things," she hissed, and with an angry glare in his direction, she said, "Stupefy!"
Wormtail froze momentarily as the spell hit him, and then crumpled to the floor, unable to dissuade her from casting the spell. With a grim smirk, Sibyll walked around him and towards the oak bookcase. She briefly counted the shelves before seizing a thick book out of the seventh one from the bottom up. Carelessly tossing the book on the chair next to the bookcase, she reached for a small, squashed pouch of Floo Powder from the spot on the bookcase where the book had rested.
"Oh, this is wonderful…don't look at me like that!" she hissed, catching a glimpse of Wormtail's face and frowning. After a minute of thinking, she sighed, "I want to go back to Hogwarts…I hate this place. I want to speak with Albus, as well…I need to talk to someone other than you," she spat, talking in the direction of Wormtail's body, "And this prophecy business is just too complicated to handle on my own. The only question remaining, I suppose, is whether to take you or not,"
I can't possibly bring a Death Eater into Hogwarts! It's enough with Severus running around the place, terrifying half of the student body to death.
But I can't leave him here completely open to attack and prying eyes…his cronies are bound to be out looking for him by now, and I bet it won't be long until he's found. This isn't exactly a hidden sort of mansion, after all, and he's heard the prophecy…
With a childish groan of dismay, Sibyll levitated Wormtail's body and guided it into the fireplace. And as she dropped a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace, she enjoyed a mingled feeling of security and happiness at the thought of leaving for her home.
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8:47 a.m., Tuesday morning, Gryffindor Common Room
Hermione rubbed her eyes sleepily and splashed some cold water on her face. She brushed her teeth and smoothed her hair lazily, trying not to think about the night before. Or rather, her worries from the night before. She really didn't need to worry about things like that before Charms class. With a sigh, she looked at her tired reflection in the mirror and leant back on the wall behind her.
I can't do this… She whimpered softly, running a hand through her hair, I just can't…I'm tired of crying so much…I just feel so…overwhelmed by this. I love Harry, and I know he loves me, but being engaged is just too...it puts too much pressure on us to be a perfect couple…
This is stupid…I should have never agreed to the proposal. What was I thinking?
Wait, what am I thinking now? This isn't right. I can't be engaged and thinking I should have never agreed to be!
She rolled her eyes in frustration and unlocked the door. With a small smile and a 'Good Morning' to her roommates, she was out of the dormitory. Yet, as she climbed down the stairs leading to the Common Room, she began to feel very dizzy. Before her, the staircase twisted and moved in a snakelike fashion. Bewildered, she extended her arm to the side, clutching the wall for support. She blinked several times, but the room remained the same way. Suddenly, she felt as if she were being lifted in the air and pushed onto the floor violently. She tried to get up, but she felt too weak to act, and slowly, her eyes began to close whilst a soft voice whispered in her ear.
"It shall happen as the fourth month comes to an end..…The battle that has been long brewing shall take place, and the Wizarding World shall be divided into two halves..…He with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord shall face him in battle…Strength and powers unknown are to be revealed, and friendships will be sealed…..Blood will be shed, innocents will be murdered, and it will not stop until the Dark Lord is defeated….But for the Light to prevail He will be required to join in alliance with Her….And should They not perform in alliance, the future of the Wizarding World will be lost….It shall happen as the fourth month comes to an end….."
The words were repeated twice in her head, and then, as abruptly as it had all begun, she felt herself coming back to consciousness and got to her feet. Her eyes wide as she replayed the words in her mind, she made a dash for the staircase leading up to the boys' dormitories. She opened the door and it hit the wall with a loud thud, followed by four groans from the boys that had been sleeping. Hermione pursed her lips in disapproval (Honestly, you'd think we didn't have class in half an hour!) and headed towards Harry's bed. She extended her hand and shook him slightly, so that he awoke with a jolt. Frantically looking to his sides, he finally caught sight of her and grasped her hand.
"We have to talk to Dumbledore," he croaked, giving her a desperate look. Hermione nodded numbly, knowing that he too, had somehow heard the prophecy as well. With a swift motion, Harry was on his feet and pulling Hermione towards the door. Hermione glanced at the other boys, who were drifting slowly awake, and at Ron's bed, which was empty, before running behind Harry out the door.
She managed to catch up with him at the portrait of the Fat Lady, and noticed that he looked rather tired, "What do you think it meant?" she asked in a hushed whisper.
Harry responded with a shake of his head before running towards a staircase leading to the sixth floor. Hermione followed him, worried for him and what she had just heard.
The prophecy obviously referred to the Final Battle between him and Voldemort, but what did it mean by him joining in alliance with 'Her' to defeat Voldemort? Is that person me?
Could it be me?
I hardly have any exceptional powers that could be of help to him. How could I possibly aid him in the defeat of Voldemort? If anything, I would be a liability.
Finally, they reached the third floor. Panting, they both stopped before the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office. Hermione frowned, "Shouldn't we have gone to the Great Hall? It's breakfast time, after all. He's bound to be there,"
Harry shook his head, giving her a dark look, "I hardly think this is something to discuss in front of the whole school and the staff," he said, "We can just wait for him in his office. Breakfast will soon be over, anyway,"
Hermione nodded silently, moving towards the gargoyle and giving it the password. It quickly sprang to life, giving her a small bow and moving to the side. Harry gave her an amused look and motioned for her to step forward towards the spiral staircase. The torches were not lit, but light poured from a window high up on the wall, illuminating the staircase considerably and giving both Harry and Hermione a sense of relaxation. As they went up, however, voices broke the silence. With a confused glance at one another, they both listened intently, their bewilderment and worry increasing steadily as they heard more.
"…Albus, how many times will I tell you? I cannot stay there any longer, especially with him around! It is simply not safe, let alone comfortable!" a strangely familiar voice was speaking, but neither of them dared to voice their speculation on who it was. It was simply too far-fetched to be true, "my house is not hidden at all! I have no reason to believe that his friends aren't already out looking for us. They will find us, Albus, and will not hesitate to take us back to their Master. And he, if I may add, will not hesitate to kill us,"
"He will not kill you yet," another voice, this one completely familiar, spoke. They were certain of who it was this time. They heard it very frequently, after all. As Professor Snape continued speaking in his usual baritone voice, Harry had a sudden clear mental picture of his sneering face, "He is, of course, unaware of the prophecy, but he still wishes to know how you…uncovered my identity as his spy," there was a mocking tone to his voice, and both Harry and Hermione became puzzled. What prophecy did they mean? Could they be aware of the one they came to inform Dumbledore about? And what identity were they talking about?
"Honestly, it was pure chance. I was suspicious of you, and I attempted to see your identity in the crystal ball. I merely saw a scene of you passing information to him, and then another of you passing information to us. However, had I known this mess would result, I would have never even tried!"
"I would have thought a gifted Seer such as you would have known from the start," Severus said, his tone mocking again.
"Severus," said a warning voice, belonging to Albus Dumbledore, "Let us try not to stray from the issue at hand, shall we? Sibyll, I understand your concerns, but please try to comprehend the other side of our problem. We cannot suddenly bring you back into Hogwarts, because as you know, they are after you. We cannot Obliviate him and send him on his way, because Memory charms can be broken. And, logically, it would put the students and the staff in danger if we harbor him in the Castle. Therefore you must understand why you are to go back,"
"But how will my safety be guaranteed then-"
"Silence," Severus hissed suddenly.
"What?"
The voices were suddenly lowered to whispers, and Harry and Hermione were unable to understand what they were saying. They stood before the door, confused as to what they should do next, until they heard the roar of the fire and quick footsteps heading towards them. They glanced at each other and made to walk away, but the door suddenly swung open and they found themselves face to face with Albus Dumbledore.
"Harry. Hermione," he said, his voice showing no sign that he knew they had heard. Yet the look he was giving them-despite not being angry-told them he was well aware of their eavesdropping, "Come in, come in,"
Hermione bit her lip slightly, giving Harry a questioning look. He gave her a small shrug and motioned for her to go inside. She moved slowly towards the center of the room, and stood staring without comment at the surroundings. Even with the lack of dialogue, the large, circular room was not filled with silence. There were small noises coming from strange objects, a low murmur of conversation from the portraits along the walls, the cackling of the fire-which bore signs of being recently used for Floo travel-and a vague humming coming from a number of curious silver instruments. Fawkes stood on a golden perch near an enormous claw-footed desk with two chairs in front of it. There were several cupboards and shelves scattered along the room, along with large, open windows that allowed the cool morning breeze to enter the room.
Harry followed her, and glanced behind him at Dumbledore. He had closed the door behind him, and had been whispering to the portrait closest to him. As he made to turn, Harry quickly turned to Hermione and grasped for her hand, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. She returned it with a small smile, and they both turned to look at Dumbledore.
He gave them a weary smile, "I will not pretend I do not know why you are here," he said, shrugging, "The quicker we sort things out, the better, right?"
Harry nodded quickly, "Professor, could the prophecy be wrong, by any chance?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "I would hope so, Harry, but it is not so. Sibyll has made a number of two correct prophecies before this one, therefore it is likely that this one is accurate as well,"
"Then, the battle will take place at the end of April?"
"Indeed,"
"And the prophecy speaks of an alliance, as well. Who is the person it refers to?"
Dumbledore gave him a small smile, "Ah, Harry…you are, according to the prophecy, 'He with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord' and you have to join in alliance with a person referred to as 'Her'. We have no direct evidence that can corroborate this except a dream Miss Granger and Sibyll recently shared, and considering what it spoke of, I believe we are right in assuming that it is Hermione that will help you defeat Voldemort," he gave Hermione a small nod, as if to confirm what he was saying.
Hermione frowned, "Professor, although what you say is correct, why would I be the one chosen to help Harry? I possess no exceptional powers, or anything that could be of help. I can hardly be considered worthy of such a thing,"
"When the time comes, Hermione, you will find that you are, indeed, the one fit for the task," Dumbledore said simply, "I should also advise you not to doubt yourself, for when the time comes, you must be sure of yourself. Doubt is a luxury we cannot have at this time,"
"But Professor-"
"I cannot explain further, Hermione. I am, like you, mystified by everything that has happened over the last few days. I am sorry I cannot be of more help, but I do not know much more than you both,"
Harry looked up from the floor and gave Dumbledore a quizzical look, "Professor, shouldn't we be preparing? I can't be expected to defeat Voldemort with no practice. I need to learn new spells and some dueling training,"
Dumbledore nodded, "I am well aware, Harry. In fact, both you and Hermione should train for this. Therefore, I have spoken to Kingsley, and he has agreed to help you train two nights a week. He will take you to different locations used for Auror training, so you become accustomed to different terrains and can practice evasion. Other Order members will accompany you as well, for your safety,"
Both Harry and Hermione nodded, feeling slightly more cheerful at the prospect of traveling to new places to learn how to battle. "When will we meet with him?" Harry asked.
"Tomorrow night, at eight o'clock, come to my office and I will tell you how to proceed from then on,"
Harry nodded, "And, Professor?" he said tentatively, "I won't deny that we were listening to the conversation taking place before you let us in, and, well…" his voice trailed off, giving Dumbledore an uncertain look.
"I am deeply sorry, Harry, but I cannot discuss that with you. Those are private matters regarding the Order. If you are to know of them, then you will be told when the time comes. Now, however, you have other things to be concerned about," Dumbledore's voice had a stern tone to it, and Harry desisted of the idea of pressing on.
"I would also, of course, request that you both do not tell anyone about your training sessions, what you overheard, and what we have discussed-especially the prophecy. Understood?"
They both nodded and, sensing the conversation had reached an end, stood up. Dumbledore did, too, and led them to the door. He seemed troubled, and as they were descending the spiral staircase, they heard the outburst of conversation between the portraits, questioning Dumbledore about the things they had just heard.
Harry reached for Hermione's hand again, holding it tightly as they walked. Almost instantly, though, he released her hand and wrapped his arm around her instead, feeling worried for her. She leaned unto him as they walked, silent, yet speaking to him. Somehow, he thought knew exactly what she was thinking then.
The burden was no longer heavily rested upon Harry, but on both of them. Although he held the power necessary to defeat Voldemort, he would be unable to do so without the help of Hermione, meaning that she was just as crucial in this as he was. Without any of them, Voldemort would never be defeated.
The thought sent a cold chill down his spine.
He didn't want her to go through all the pressure and worry he felt everyday since he had learned of the other prophecy in his fifth year. He knew how horrible it felt. The strange feeling that you're alone in the world, or that you aren't powerful enough to go through with things.
Wrapped in his arms, Hermione was feeling very helpless indeed at the thought of playing such an important role in the Final Battle. Yet she was torn between her instinctive feelings and the words from Dumbledore that she had heard minutes ago.
"…Doubt is a luxury we cannot have at this time,"
And, inside, she began to feel slightly stronger. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she had to be strong. Not for herself, but for Harry. His success in defeating Voldemort rested on her shoulders, and she had to help him.
Whether it involved magical skills, thinking, or simply being there, she would help him.
She would not let Voldemort win.