Title: Another Way to Die
Summary: One day, Hermione starts acting very strange. Suddenly she begins to fancy Malfoy, enjoys skipping around the Great Hall, is being abnormally polite to Ron, is skipping classes, and absolutely hates Harry Potter. What the bloody hell is going on here?
Rating: PG-13 (it finally went up, what must that mean? *wink*)
A/N: It was pointed out to me that I made a mistake in the last chapter. I said that Harry had saved Hermione during the second task when he actually didn't. I'm really sorry! I think I was thinking of Ron instead. I didn't notice the mistake when I was editing. I'm really sorry and I'll try not to let it happen again!
Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed! I'm really glad that you're enjoying my story. The next chapter will be the last chapter. So, you can just wait patiently for that.
Another note: This was probably the most difficult chapter for me to write because I have no - um - experience in what I'm writing about here *hint hint*. It's sad, I know, but I'm still young, I have time!
Chapter Three -
Harry was slowly pacing through a deserted forest, thousands of crickets chirping around him. There was a new moon above his head and the sky was a deep, solid black.
He walked slowly forward, his mind devoid of thoughts. It was a sensation that he rarely got to endure. He had no worries, nothing to think about. It was wonderful. Wherever he was going, he didn't want to get there any time soon.
"Just a bit further," said a familiar woman's voice from inside his head. He followed his feet with no thought in his head, his eyes blank and staring forward.
But then suddenly, another voice in his head, his voice, asked, "Why I am walking forward? I'm not wearing shoes."
"Just a little bit further," the woman repeated.
Harry was beginning to feel the sharp twigs and the leaves crunching beneath his feet. "But I don't want to walk anymore."
"We're almost there," said the woman, firmer this time.
Harry was beginning to slow down. He didn't feel like walking anymore. His feet were tired, what was the point?
"Keep going!" the voice commanded.
"No!" he heard the voice in his head yell.
"Walk! Now!" the woman was yelling.
"NO!" Harry roared and quickly sat up in his bed, tangled in his sheets. He was breathing heavily and his face was covered in sweat.
He heard movement from his side and saw Neville's groggy face peeking out between his hangings, "What's up, `Arry?" he asked thickly.
"Nothing," said Harry and Neville fell back onto his pillow and began to snore.
Harry tried to remember his dream. There was a woman and a forest and the woman was commanding him to do things. But he didn't want to do them because his feet hurt. Why was the woman inside his head? Why did she want him to keep going? Why didn't she allow him to go get his shoes to make things easier?
Harry thought over the commands in his head; they had to mean something. His dreams always ended up meaning something eventually. No thoughts. His mind was blank. Commands.
The Imperius Curse. Of course.
But what did it mean? He thought back on his conversation with Ron the day before, preceding lunch.
"You think… you think Hermione's under the Imperius Curse?"
"Do you think that's possible?"
"Anything's possible."
Anything was possible… Somebody was controlling Hermione's mind; Harry was sure of it. But who?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Harry needed to talk to Ron. He needed to tell him about Hermione. He couldn't talk to him during breakfast because Hermione was right there and she was being very nosy; so, he waited very impatiently until Charms that morning where she wouldn't over hear them.
Hermione, like she always did, left them upon arriving at the classroom and went off to sit with someone else. Today, she went over to the other side of the room to sit with Lavender and Parvati. They didn't seem very excited to let her sit with them but after seeing the giddy smile on her face and after she whispered something into Lavender's ear, she was gladly welcomed.
Harry watched her sit down and start talking very quickly and excitedly. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Let me guess, she's talking about Malfoy. That's just disgusting," said Ron.
Harry didn't say anything. Who knew about Hermione's past but not her personality? Whoever had her under the curse knew about the adventures she'd gone on with Harry and Ron but not about how she usually acted around her friends. They obviously thought that she was just like Lavender and Parvati: gossipy, hyper, and boy-crazy. Hermione was none of those three things.
Ron sensed that Harry was watching and thinking about Hermione.
"Just from watching you paying so much attention to Hermione, I could almost guess that you fancied her," said Ron, sniggering quietly.
This pulled Harry out of his reverie, "What? No. No way."
"Then why are you always watching her?"
"So I can find out what's wrong with her, of course."
Ron nodded his head but Harry didn't notice how he watched Harry with a disbelieving expression.
"It's the Imperius Curse," said Harry after he and Ron had taken their seat a back table in the corner of the classroom.
"You're sure?" asked Ron.
"Yes, I'm positive. She has all the signs of it. I just know it. It has to be."
"Well… what should we do about it?"
"I have no idea," said Harry worriedly, staring across the room at Hermione, "no idea at all."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
That night, Harry stayed up past the time when Ron and the rest of Gryffindors had gone up to bed. Ron was a bit hesitant about leaving Harry alone with Hermione but Harry had insisted. Hermione was out late again.
Harry was sitting in a big armchair near the fire waiting for her while flipping through a very heavy book on the effects of the Imperius Curse and how to tell when someone is under it.
Harry's eyes were beginning to droop just when he heard movement from the spiral staircase. He quickly turned around and saw Crookshanks creeping around in the shadows. Upon seeing Harry, he meowed and rubbed against Harry's legs.
"Do you think something's wrong with Hermione?" Harry asked the cat.
Crookshanks gave a low meow, almost a growl, in response.
"Yeah, I agree. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with her. If only she'd -"
"Why, good evening, Mr. Potter," came Hermione's voice from behind him. Harry jumped out of his chair and turned to face Hermione.
"Hello, Hermione," said Harry.
"Why are we up so late tonight?" she asked.
"I was waiting for you to come back."
"Again? I don't see why you're so worried about me," said Hermione, stepping closer to him, "I'm perfectly fine."
Harry looked into Hermione's eyes. He had just read that one of the effects of the curse was that the victim's eyes become glazed over and blank. Harry saw, instead of a blank expression, a fiery state but, after looking closer, he saw that behind the fire was nothing, blankness and emptiness.
"Don't stare, Harry. It's very rude," scolded Hermione.
"Who are you?" asked Harry.
"I'm Hermione Granger. Who are you?" asked Hermione, extending her hand sarcastically.
Harry said nothing and did not touch Hermione's hand.
"I asked," Hermione repeated, "who are you?"
"Harry Potter," said Harry playing along. He reached out for Hermione's hand, with his right, and shook it.
Hermione didn't let go of Harry after they had shook hands. Harry did not like Hermione holding his hand like this; it was his right arm that she was restraining, his wand arm.
Hermione lifted her left hand to Harry's forehead, still forcefully gripping his hand, and brushed his fringe away from his scar.
"Harry Potter," she repeated slowly and quietly. Harry moved away from Hermione but she still kept a grip on his hand. "Oh, no, no, no, you're not going anywhere."
"Who are you and why are you doing this to Hermione?" Harry asked quietly, leaning away from Hermione.
"I am Hermione Granger, Harry Potter. I've already told you."
"No, you're not. I know -"
"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione yelled, holding her wand in her left hand. She released Harry's right as his arms and legs snapped together and he fell backward and hit the armchair behind him. He was leaning, stiff as a board, against the chair, defenseless. This was surely another way to die - being defenseless was another way to die.
Whoever was controlling Hermione was left handed, Harry thought fleetingly. They had told Hermione to use her left hand.
"Well, Harry Potter, I've got you now. I've got you right under the nose of Dumbledore… right under his nose." She stood in front of him, hands on her hips, tapping her foot on the ground.
Harry glared at her. If there was one thing he hated, it was not being able to fight back. He wished somebody would come downstairs and see him.
Come on, Hermione, fight the curse! Fight it, please, thought Harry desperately. He knew it was possible, but he didn't know if Hermione was capable of it.
Hermione reached into her robes and pulled out a small, glass vile filled with a clear liquid. She shook it very close to Harry's face.
"Do you know what this is?" she asked, smiling crudely, "It's Veritaserum. I can make you tell me whatever I want to know. I can even make you tell me about the headquarters of the Order."
Harry's eyes widened.
"Yes, I know about the Order and I could make you tell me all their plans against the Dark Lord. I could make you tell me everything, even your deepest, darkest secrets."
She uncorked the vile and pried Harry's mouth open. She dropped three drops down Harry's throat and forced him to swallow.
"Fight it, Hermione! Fight!" Harry was able to yell before his mind was immediately devoid of thought.
"Can you hear me?" asked Hermione.
"Yes," said Harry automatically.
"Now… where are the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix."
"I can't tell you," replied Harry, surprising himself.
"What?" asked Hermione, bewildered, "Why can't you tell me?"
"You must ask the Secret Keeper," responded Harry flatly.
"And who is this Secret Keeper?" asked Hermione.
"Albus Dumbledore."
"Damn," said Hermione in a frustrated voice. She began to pace in front of Harry, scratching her head, trying to think of the next question. Harry continued to stare blankly ahead, with no worry or thought in his mind. He was completely relaxed. It was as if his body had been deserted and all that was left was his flesh.
The effects of the full body bind were starting to wear off and Harry was slowly sliding to the ground. Hermione wasn't watching him and Harry didn't really realize it himself. Even if he had, there was nothing he could do about it. Suddenly, the charm wore off fully and with a "thud" Harry hit the floor.
Hermione turned her attention back to Harry, "Oops."
She pushed him up against the chair so he was sitting in an upright position and continued to pace in front of him. She was wasting time, she knew it, and the effects of the Veritaserum would soon vanish as well. She had to think fast.
"Did you love Sirius Black?" she asked.
"Yes," replied Harry. On a regular basis, if someone had asked that, he would most likely have lost his temper with them.
"So everyone you truly loved is dead…" said Hermione thoughtfully.
"No."
A wide smile broke across Hermione's face, giving her a startlingly evil look. She sat down in front of Harry on her knees.
"Ah… lovely. If we kill who you love, we may be able to touch a nerve. Who is it that you love, Harry Potter?"
"Hermione Granger."
Hermione started breathing very quickly and heavily. Her left hand was shaking as if it wanted to reach for her wand but she wasn't letting it. A small part of Harry's still conscious brain thought, She's fighting it! Her left hand continued to shake; she grasped it with her right hand, holding it steady. Then she relaxed, the blankness in her eyes vanishing.
"Harry…" she whispered. Then, after releasing her own hand, she began to fumble with something inside her cloak. She pulled out a small, clear vile with a blue liquid it in. She quickly tipped it down Harry's throat and he instantly regained control of his mind.
"Harry," she whispered again.
"It's you, it's really you," said Harry framing her face with her hands before pulling her into a tight hug. They sat like that, neither knowing exactly what to do.
There were so many questions swimming around in Harry's mind: Who had been doing the curse? Was Hermione hurt? Was she in any trouble? Was she going to be okay? But instead, he stayed quiet; enjoying the moment.
"Harry," she said, breaking away from him, "I don't know if you remember - but before… when you were under the influence of the Veritaserum, you said - you said that you loved me."
Harry thought for a moment. No, he couldn't remember saying that but he must have meant it. One can only speak the truth after they drink Veritaserum, so it must have been true.
But what was love? Harry had never known love. He must have loved his parents… and Sirius, of course. But did he love Hermione? After almost six years of companionship, he didn't know if he loved her. Yes, he would do anything for her, he would die for her. Was that love? If it wasn't, then he didn't know what was.
"I think I do love you, Hermione," said Harry confidently. It was all clicking into place. After all those years, it had taken him almost six to notice? How stupid, he thought.
"I - I don't know what to say," stammered Hermione, blushing, "But I think I love you, too."
Harry cupped her chin with his hand and pulled her to him and kissed her. Suddenly, he felt complete. This intimate contact with Hermione made him feel as if the world had stopped turning. The feel of her lips against his was an almost mind blowing experience. Could it get any better?
Hermione's hands were in Harry's hair, mussing it up more than it already was (and always was), as she attempted to get closer and closer to him until they were just a tangle of limbs. She just couldn't seem to get close enough. This was the most wonderful feeling in the world, it was just - just right.
Harry, who barely had any kissing experience, was, surprisingly, not nervous or hesitant at all. Somehow, he knew exactly what to do, where to put his hands and how far he wanted to go. Hermione helped him to become more confident. And this, he was. He slowly slid his tongue against Hermione's closed lips, asking for entrance. She immediately granted that to him.
Hermione groaned into Harry's mouth as their tongues touched and she could taste him. They explored each other; Harry's hand slowly finding its way under Hermione's blouse as Hermione desperately tugged at his hair. Her other hand was grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. If Harry had to die tomorrow, he would want to die in Hermione's arms, the last thing he would want to taste would be her. He would then die happy.
Neither of them wanted the kiss to end, but they were both in desperate need of oxygen. Hermione was the first to pull away, gasping for air as Harry did the same. After both of their breathing had become normal again, Harry looked up at Hermione.
"Wow," he whispered.
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