Chapter Nine: Disagreements
10:08 a.m., Sunday morning, Boat from the Coast Dumfries, Scotland to the Coast of Waterford, Ireland
"Would you care to explain to me why we are taking a boat? I may not be as young as I once was, but I think I can still manage to Apparate." Sibyll asked irritably as they sat down on a couple of seats on the far back of the boat. They had been traveling for three hours now, and the boat showed no signs of stopping yet. The captain hadn't been very gracious either when they asked him if he could move the boat faster. He had looked at them with a painfully puzzled expression, faced with a thin woman with odd clothes and large glasses who walked alongside a short, bald man with several nasty scars, he stiffly remarked that the boat only had one speed level and that they ought to go sit down and have some food while they waited.
Wormtail rolled his eyes, "It's not about you being old or not. The Dark Lord-" He glanced sideways furtively and shivered, "-he…he can trace his Death Eaters when they use magic…that way he can always be sure of their location and their motives…"
Sibyll snorted, "What rubbish! How could he possibly trace you? And more particularly, tell his select band of Death Eaters from all the other wizards?" She asked, slightly mockingly to hide her true interest on the subject.
Wormtail gave her a cold look, then pointed to his left forearm, "You do know that Death Eaters have the Dark Mark imprinted on their skin, don't you?" He asked in a low voice. Sibyll nodded and he continued, "Right, well, it serves as a connection to him-that's how he can summon us to him when he needs us by merely touching another Death Eater's mark. It serves as a method to track us as well, because being embossed into our skin, the Mark becomes part of our bodies. Our blood thumps below it, and our flesh resides under it. When a person casts a spell, their body is filled with magic, and the Mark feels it. And if the Mark feels it, then The Dark Lord feels it as well."
Sibyll nodded, rather taken aback at his instant response. He spoke fearfully of it, yet in his voice you could notice the awe he felt for such powerful magic. It was as though he wished he could have so much power as well. Sibyll almost snorted aloud again-a ridiculous thing for her to do, really; she hated it when people did that. They sounded like overgrown pigs-at that thought; this little coward, traitor, and pitiful excuse for a man actually thinks he could have that kind of magical ability? He must be joking. Even Albus would have to work hard to cast such a powerful spell, and he is the wizard the Dark Lord fears most!
Unable to resist the temptation to see what he would say, Sibyll asked, "And I bet you wish you could do that, wouldn't you?" She said it quietly to avoid being overheard, with a slight raise of her eyebrow.
Wormtail met her eyes with a dark look, then turned his gaze to the large flickering light dangling from the ceiling of the boat, swaying slowly, dangerously, from side to side. He stared at it for a long time, his eyes moving at the same rhythm as it, ignoring Sibyll's question. She watched in silent amusement as he avoided speaking about something he knew he craved beyond anything else. By his reaction, and the way he spoke of power, she could easily tell this man wasn't about love and friendships. He certainly wasn't about courage, either. A bad combination, really…how could he ever aspire to become a powerful wizard if he kept running after someone for protection and letting others trample over him?
Knowing that he would never open up if she didn't pry a little more, she continued, "After all, you could have everyone's respect easily…you wouldn't have anyone show you disdain or insolence." She said with a slight smirk.
Wormtail glared at her, "Everybody has something they want beyond anything else. So what if what I want is a little beyond my reach? I'm still allowed to want it-and work for it."
At this, Sibyll raised both her eyebrows, "If, of course, your idea of working for what you want is running to the aid of a crazed, egoistical wizard who will probably end up killing you in order to obtain what he wants for himself. He doesn't care about you or his other lovely little followers, you know. He would not hesitate to kill you for the slightest reason whatsoever, and he enjoys your suffering. Tell me, what kind of a role model is that?" She said heatedly, unable to keep her personal beliefs about the Dark Lord out of the conversation.
"Crazed, egoistical wizard, eh? Why don't you tell him exactly what you think of him? He'd be glad to know, I'm sure." Wormtail spat, ignoring her question again.
For the first time since she had been tortured by Voldemort, Sibyll felt a wave of fear spread through her body, "I'm sure you can relate." She said slowly, breathing heavily to relax herself again, "I hardly doubt, after all, that you think him your most trusted ally, or your most faithful mentor, and yet that doesn't keep you from almost wanting to die from the fear whenever you're around him. Sometimes even when you're not you shiver at his mention!" She said, "The disdain I feel for him sometimes doesn't necessarily mean I do not fear him. If anything, sometimes it is a way to cover up my fear."
Again, Wormtail had to consider his words carefully before speaking, "I could never show scorn towards the Dark Lord. I have been around one too many times when he has tortured people to death, or when he has had Muggles left in agony after…" He shook his head, shivering, "You can't possibly be suggesting I stand up to him. He'll kill me. That's the reason why I'm on this boat, remember?"
"Running away won't solve anything."
"Then why did you?"
Sibyll's gaze darkened considerably, "How do you even know about that? Don't tell me my letter went around the filthy hands of you Death Eaters as well as his!" She hissed, instantly regretting being cruel to him. They were getting somewhere-finally getting him to talk-and she just went and lost her temper like that. Why was she so upset, anyway? The letter wasn't all that important…
Not all that important? Merlin, thanks to it I was almost killed today! It obviously had two things of interest to The Dark Lord: My discovery of Severus' identity, and my vision of the Final Battle.
Then again, it might have saved my life. If I hadn't discovered both those things, he would have disposed of me right after he heard the prophecy.
Either way I was about to share the same fate…and then this one showed up and saved my life-momentarily, that is, and Merlin forbid he did it out of care for me…if it hadn't been for that wretched house of mine in Killarney, he would have left me to die.
Again, something that could have signified my death saved my life.
This is getting all too odd…so many causalities and slim escapes happening…it can't mean anything good.
The worst is probably to come….
Wormtail frowned as her expression went from rage, to dark pensiveness, only to leave her with a slightly miserable look in her eye. This was why he had never been particularly interested in love. It was so hard to understand what others were thinking-especially in witches. They could be ecstatically happy one moment, and then the next they were trying to slit your throat, only to dramatically shed tears while they uttered apologies for their behavior. It was rather disturbing.
Of course, he'd never been the target for such affections. It had always been Sirius and James who got all the attention from the girls at Hogwarts, and so Peter began spending more time after hours in the Restricted Section of the Library. Once they'd caught him looking up dark curses. They'd laughed heartily, asking him why in the world he would be reading up extra curses when they could very well teach him a few.
- FLASHBACK -
"If you're looking to become a Death Eater, though, Wormtail, you'd best get your dueling skills up first I doubt the dreaded Dark Lord would accept duelers with the grace of an elephant." Sirius said, smirking.
"You might want to ask Snivellus for some help, though. We don't associate with Death Eaters, after all." James said with fake snobbishness, pretending to look down at Wormtail with disgust.
Wormtail shook his head, reddening slightly in embarrassment and from the effort of looking for an excuse for his readings, "No, no, it's not any of that! I just…I just wanted to learn to defend myself-"
"Then just ask us."
"You would've laughed and forgotten all about it in a minute!" Wormtail muttered dully with a small roll of his eyes and a childish pout.
"Yeah, you're probably right." Sirius said, his laugh sounding very much like a bark. Wormtail never really understood why, but he concluded that it was probably from spending so much time as a dog. They did, after all, run around with Moony when he became a werewolf, and Sirius was known for taking off in nighttime strolls alone from time to time.
"Anyway…come on, Wormtail, we were going to go play a prank on the Slytherins. You'd be perfect for sneaking in, being so small." James said, beckoning him over. Wormtail followed reluctantly, and he watched as Sirius waved his wand at the pile of books Wormtail had been using, making them go back to their corresponding place on the bookshelves. James quickly draped his Invisibility cloak over the three of them (Moony had crossly declined James' offer to come along), "Don't want to be seen now do we?" he said, grinning. Turning to Wormtail, he smirked, "Unless you learned any invisibility spells we ought to know about?"
- END FLASHBACK -
Wormtail's rambling memories were interrupted by Sibyll's irritated voice, "Are you going to keep ignoring me all day? If you will, I might as well go back to that Master of yours, where people at least pay me attention when I talk!" She snapped, knowing very well that what she was saying was pure and utter nonsense. Here and there, she would be considered a crazy, unhinged and slightly eccentric Seer.
Wormtail frowned, "What?" He said absently, blinking.
Sibyll's nostrils flared, "Fine, we won't talk at all. Don't tell me if you don't want to." She snapped, glaring at him and looking away angrily.
"What are you on about? You haven't asked me anything!" Wormtail said, throwing his arms up in the air exasperatedly. Sibyll pointedly ignored him, pursing his lips and looking out the window and at the sea.
"Oh, come on, Sibyll. Just ask me again. I'm listening."
Sibyll's eyes shot up to meet his with a hateful glare. Narrowing her eyes, she hissed, "I forbid you to call me Sibyll. You don't know me at all, and we aren't exactly on speaking terms." She crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows at his scowl.
"Fine. I will continue avoiding the use of your name. I was just trying to be friendly. We'll never get anywhere if we don't sort out our differences." He said, pouting slightly.
Sibyll rolled her eyes, "Oh, don't you give me that. You don't care about me at all, or our differences. All you're worried about is that I might get sick and tired of your pathetic attitude and go back to Dumbledore, perhaps accidentally letting slip your location." She sneered, huffing loudly, "I've never had any real friends, and as a result of that, I've learned to tell certain things when people speak to me. Lying would be a perfect example." She added silkily.
Pettigrew met her eyes slowly, a peculiar expression playing on his face. His unusually watery eyes seemed even more watery by the second, and his mouth kept twitching as if he were about to grin but opposed to it. With an odd sort of sigh, he reached for Sibyll's hand, taking it in his. With a disgusted look at him, she yanked it away, her eyes wide and uncomprehending.
"Please…I n-need you. You are my only hope of survival now…" He whimpered, moving his arm to hide his face from view, "If we continue bickering this way….it might come to the point until we can't even stand each other-"
"Pardon, but who says it already hasn't come to that point?" Sibyll interrupted, scrambling in her seat to stay the farther away possible from Wormtail.
"No! No, please! Honestly, we've only known each other for a few hours…" He sobbed, "You can't be sick of me already! Please…we need each other to stay alive…you can't be so crazy as to let yourself die."
"I don't need you. I needed you. Now that I'm out, how does your company benefit me?" Sibyll said, frowning and giving him a sour look, "You can hardly protect me, I daresay…you barely know your way around…you can't do any magic…really, if I wanted to, I could just Apparate out of here and leave you alone." She finished, and shrugged at his desperate sob, "It's the truth, and you very well know it. Now, I won't leave you alone, but you have to promise to stop acting so…inexplicably and disturbingly odd." She said, the barest trace of a smile crossing her lips.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Wormtail asked indignantly, glaring at her.
Sibyll raised an eyebrow, "Shall I give you an example? Right now, you were suddenly near tears over the most idiotic thing-and clutching my hand, for Merlin's sake!" She said, widening her eyes and shaking her head, "Honestly, that is just… bizarre."
"Grabbing your hand?"
Rolling her eyes, she snapped, "No, you idiot-I mean those changes of moods you get. They are very uncanny." Her words were rather harsh, but her tone was airy, as if she was just having a normal discussion. She seemed to be in a very good mood all of a sudden, "But now that you mention it, don't hold my hand either. It's uncomfortable. You are still a very strange person to me, after all."
Wormtail shrugged, "There is nothing that would make me want to hold your hand, anyway. You aren't exactly the most normal person either, you know."
"Fair enough." She said shrugging, "However…I would greatly appreciate if you could do me a favor."
"Name your terms, I guess."
"Well, I would feel much more relieved if…well, if I could…contact Albus." She said tentatively, "Now, I could do this without asking-and I was certainly going to, mind you-but since we're trying to be friends…"
"No! No, how could you even consider that?" Wormtail hissed, his eyes growing wide as he shook his head vehemently, "He'll send me to Azkaban-no, worse, he'll send me back! I'll die!"
"Can't you try, just for one, to stand up for yourself? I'm sure if you talked it out-"
"No! I have no intentions of going back crawling to his side! I can safely say I'm on nobody's side from now on. It's safer that way! My alliance with you never meant-and never will-that I decided to join Dumbledore's side. Never."
"You disgusting coward! You will die anyway! There is no set fate for anyone in this War. That means anyone can die, no matter who's side they're on or not. Your Death Eater friends will pursue you for deserting them, and Dumbledore's followers will too for turning on them. You should at least die bravely, giving a good fight and showing no fear!"
"I completely disagree. I rather die quickly and without a struggle."
Disgusted and exasperated, Sibyll stood. Her eyes were hard and cold, and her nostrils were flared, "You are an insult to the Wizarding Community. Merlin, I never thought I'd meet someone so disgraceful in my life! Coward, traitor, liar-what else are you?" She asked, throwing her hands up in the air and looking at him incredulously, "You will have to do better to gain my trust, and you will never step inside my house without my trust." She said coldly, turning away from him. With a look back, she whispered, "You ought to be ashamed." Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. There was a loud crack, and she disappeared, leaving Wormtail alone on the boat, staring at the spot where she had been.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2: 46 p.m., Sunday afternoon, Gryffindor Common Room
Hermione leafed her book slowly, reading every single word carefully, so as to take in everything the book had to offer-and to distract herself from her pounding headache. Her discussion with Ron had been invading her thoughts all morning, making her feel depressed and teary. She had spent about an hour with Harry before he left for the Quidditch Pitch. She suspected he too needed a break from everything that had happened, and so didn't object. In fact, she encouraged it. While they had been together, they had kissed and cuddled softly, sitting on the steps of the Grand Staircase. Holding each other, they were both completely lost in worried thoughts and hadn't been able to utter a word. They did not speak, longing for the other's reassurance and care but unable to ask for it. It was horrible to have him so close by and yet, to be trapped in silence, neither sending nor receiving any reassurances.
And she needed him. She needed him to tickle her, making her laugh. She needed him to speak, to drive her away from all her thoughts, to mesmerize her with the sound of his voice as he said her name. She needed him to hold her and caress her back, to run his hands through her hair delicately, to make her go crazy with the thought of kissing him…
Merlin, I desperately need to get a grip. It's only been, what, four hours? This is insane!
Oh, but I can't stand it. I can't stand going through all this and not having him around to make it all feel better. Didn't ha just promise me that he'd always be there for me?
And where is he, anyway? He couldn't possibly have been playing Quidditch this long… those brooms are horribly uncomfortable, and the sun is blazing! He'll look like some sort of under-cooked shrimp when he gets back-completely red.
With a shake of her head, she snuggled in the couch, tucking her feet under her and spreading the book on her lap to read more comfortably. Sighing, she turned the page, forgetting her plan to concentrate on the words and skipping a few dozen paragraphs. She had turned quite a few pages more before half the members of the Quidditch team filed in, among them Ron. Craning her neck, she searched for Harry, but was disappointed to see that he had apparently lingered in the Quidditch Pitch. With an angry huff, she closed her book, which emitted a loud snap. She leaned back, using her arm as a pillow and closing her eyes. She wished she could just will all the pain and all her worries away, or maybe just forget about everything.
She wished she could just be happy.
Opening her eyes, she saw Ron sitting on a table across from her, writing on a piece of parchment. Inevitably, the memory of her mother's letter flooded over her, and before she could stop herself, she was on her feet and walking over to him. She paused beside his table, clearing her throat to announce her presence. He glanced up at her, scowled, and returned to the parchment. Huffing loudly, Hermione sat down on the seat across from him. Leaning forward, she hissed, "Writing another complaint letter to my parents, are you? Going to get them to tell me off for snapping at you today?"
Ron's brow furrowed slightly, and his ears reddened, but other than that, he showed no signs of hearing what Hermione had said. He merely continued on writing, ignoring Hermione's bait. She was looking for an argument on purpose, and he knew it. She's probably annoyed that Harry still hasn't come back from Quidditch and now she wants to take it out on me. Harry had been flying for hours now, and he showed no signs of wanting to stop. He looked stressed and worried, and those were both things he could easily forget by flying.
Hermione crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, surprised at Ron's controlled reaction. He didn't even redden that much, which was an improvement. However, she wasn't giving up that easy. For some reason, she felt angry, and there was no one else that would love to argue with her more than Ron, "So you're still going through with this 'ignoring Hermione' technique? Honestly, what do you expect to gain from that?"
"Peace, maybe?" Ron grunted, giving her a curt nod. Let her think she'd finally won and made him talk. As long as she desisted of the idea of talking to him after this, he would be happy.
Hermione's eyes danced, "Peace? You'll never make peace between us by setting a silent treatment, Ron."
Ron shrugged, "I consider peace to be the absence of arguments, Hermione, and that is something that can easily be gained by not communicating." He said as he continued to trace his quill on the parchment.
"You will only be harboring more and more tension inside yourself and between us. If we could just talk it out-"
"We already talked it out. There's nothing more we can discuss." Ron interrupted, shaking his head, "You can't expect me to be okay with what you and Harry did to me, Hermione, and much less if it's merely a day after. Things just don't work like that." He finished heatedly, tightening his grip on the quill.
"But-"
"No! It's just not like that, Hermione! You were supposed to be my girlfriend-and maybe even more-and he was supposed to be my best friend. Damn, the things you did to me…friends and girlfriends don't do that. And that hurts, Hermione, it really does, so I'd just appreciate it if you'd get out of my sight before things get worse." Ron snapped, his voice growing steadily louder and more forced as he spoke.
Hermione stood, crossing her arms, "Fine, then. I won't speak to you anymore. But you should just know, Ron, that what happened in the last few days would have happened later on anyway. There was just no changing that. Better it happened now, when things hadn't gotten serious between us, than later." She said quietly, unsure whether she regretted talking or him or not.
"Not gotten serious? Are you mad? I was going to propose to you, Hermione! Propose to you to marry me!" Ron bellowed, standing up and knocking his chair backwards, "Merlin, if you don't think that's serious, then I really don't know what the heck to think of you." He hissed, glaring at her and at the people who had interestedly turned to see them argue.
"I do think marriage is serious, Ron. I just meant that we weren't engaged, or married when things happened. It's better that way."
"It's not better any way." Ron hissed, shaking his head, "Don't you realize that? Can't you just stop and think for a second, how it might feel to be in my position? What if Harry were to cheat on you with someone else? How would you feel then, if he kept rubbing it in your face?" He said viciously, enjoying the way her face went from amused calm to fiery rage.
"Harry would never do that. He loves me, Ron. Loves me. He would never do something so incredibly low and ridiculous-"
"Meaning you are low and ridiculous, because you did that to me."
Hermione sighed. Where in the world had she gotten the idea that arguing with Ron would make her feel any better? If anything, it was because of their arguments that she was feeling so horrible, "No, I am not! Stop insulting me, Ron! It's not my fault-"
"See, that's the thing, Hermione, it is your fault. And that means I'm allowed to blame you."
"Ron-"
"Hermione? What's going on?" Said a voice behind them. Apparently, Harry had entered the Common Room while they were arguing, and being so caught up, none of them noticed.
Hermione shot Ron one last glowering look, and she turned to Harry, "No, it's nothing Harry. Everything's fine."
Harry gave Ron a questioning look, who shrugged, "There's no problem as long as she doesn't keep looking for them." He said, glaring at Hermione and pulling his chair up to sit down at the table to continue writing. Harry shot Hermione a pensive look, and beckoned her over to the portrait hole. Silently, she exited and waited for him outside. He quickly came after her, and crossed his arms, "What was that really about?" He asked, frowning.
"Nothing, Harry. Nothing's wrong, I told you."
"Don't lie to me! You two were arguing again, now, why were you fighting?"
"We weren't!" Hermione hissed, crossing her arms as well.
"Yes you were, and I can safely assume it was because of your continued attempts to talk to that git!" Harry snapped, narrowing his eyes and taking a small, rather menacing step closer to Hermione. She bit her lip, seemed to think the situation through, and spoke, "Fine. If you so dearly want to know, fine. I was waiting for you to get back, and I couldn't concentrate on anything because I was worried. Then, Ron and some other people from the Quidditch team come in, and he starts writing on a piece of parchment. I remembered my mother's letter and before I knew it, I was on my feet and baiting the stupid git to argue with me." She said it all in a very rushed manner, taking a small step backwards from Harry, who seemed to become more annoyed by every word.
Narrowing his eyes, he hissed, "What is it with you? Now that you don't have to talk to him at all, you're more interested in arguing with him and making your life even more miserable! Hasn't he caused you enough trouble yet? Do you want him to break us up, too?"
Hermione stomped her foot, glaring at Harry, "It's my problem if I talk to him or not. I just feel that we've been friends for too long to let it all be destroyed so quickly, at such a crucial time in our lives!" She snarled, shaking her head.
Harry gaped at her, "What, you'd rather sacrifice our love for his friendship? 'Cause if you do, it's better that you tell me now, before you two start having some secret friendship behind my back."
Hermione's nostrils flared, "Oh, so now you're never going to trust me because of what I did with you? You're going to hold it over my head forever, are you? Well, let me tell you something, Harry, our relationship will never last if we can't trust each other!" She felt very near tears now, and yet her rage was bigger than her sadness. Later she would regret arguing with both of them, but she was more annoyed at Harry's reaction.
"How can I trust you if whenever I turn around, you go crazy and look for arguments with him?" Harry snapped, shaking his head and taking another step towards her.
"If you love me, that shouldn't be too hard!"
Harry raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione cut him off, "You know what, Harry? You figure it out. I'm just disappointed that you claim to love me and stay by my side forever when you don't even trust me." Her voice was shaky now, and tears were spilling out of her eyes. With a last hurt look at Harry, she shoved past him towards and bolted in the direction towards the exit to the floor.
Harry kicked the wall angrily. Why did she have to be so unreasonable, anyway? It's natural for me to be worried about her, and it's not a big deal to ask about her argument with Ron.
And, honestly, trying to talk to him? It's idiotic-how can she expect him to talk to her like nothing's happened? You'd think she'd have figured it out by now…
But fine, if she doesn't want to talk to me, I won't talk to her. She's the one being stubborn here, trying to force Ron into talking to her. If anyone should be sorry, it's her.
The only thing I'm sorry about is that she's got to go to a detention in such a state.
Merlin…have mercy on Professor McGonagall.
A/N: Again, I leave the shippers in need of romance. =D Ah, well, hang on till the next chapter.
Well, I think this one turned out fine. Rather late, yes, but I already told you all why. School sucks. =(
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it! Feel free to leave a review, too, mind. Can you believe I almost have ten chapters? (To me, that means a lot…) w00t!