Chapter Five: Event Horizon
Harold lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind was reeling from the pain his body had been thrown through. Alfred had patched him up and his body had begun its healing process. He hated hospitals, so dull and so eerie, like it was just waiting for the next person to die. He was there, he remembered the night of his parents demise. He was sitting there, waiting for Alfred to come get him, as his parents were pronounced dead. Shaking his head, he rolled out of the bed, planning on leaving. His arm still in a sling, his shoulder racked with pain, he left the infirmary.
The hallways were dark, the torches dimmed as he walked toward the Gryffindor tower. He still had the torn remains of his pants on, throwing his jacket over his shirtless chest. He began to go over the day and all. In the words Alfred had often told him, it is best to start at the beginning.
The train ride, what hell that was. Harold's program would have to be restarted, if those monsters kept trying to attack his peers, and his friend. His body was no where near it needed to be. The previous day had proven that. Pain was only in his mind, and that could be avoided, if he prepared. His hybrid vest had been shrunken done, and placed in his jacket.
Death Eaters…he'd have to research them to find more about that. It sounded much like the terrorist cell that had been attacking both London and Diagon Alley recently. There had to be more on them, especially in the library here. At Potter Manor, it was not as extensive as he'd care for it to be.
Alfred must have called off his vacation, which it was more likely that he never took, to have come here. Harold was thankful for that beyond words. His body was resistant to magic beyond the point of using healing spells upon it. Besides, the normal way taught him not to do make the same mistake again. And onto the final note of the night….
He was Head Boy. Great. More fame he needed like slug needed salt. Hermione was the Head Girl, from the pin on her robe he'd have to guess. At least she'd be his friend.
"Its you again," he said, stopping in the darken hallway. "Why not leave me alone?"
"Because I can't," a haunting voice said. Harold knew it was behind him, knew that the beast who he first met when he was six was there, that he meant only hours before in the forest. "We're one and the same."
"Creatures of the night, ridding it of its bugs?" Harold said, his head hug in shame. "I will never be normal will I?" The rustling sound behind him was his answer. "I'm not ready. I need more time."
"You were ready tonight, without a thought," the beast said. "I believe you are."
"The world is in pain, we both feel it," He turned back to face the darkness and the bright yellow eyes staring back at him. "The monsters are coming back."
"Then take back the streets, take back the night," the bat said to him. "Take back what was stolen from you."
"You mean by you," Harold said, turning away. "It'll happen. When I'm ready." He continued walking down the hall, only to see Hermione walking toward him.
"Who were you talking to?" she asked, the surprise on her face gone. His night vision was something that he found useful.
"Myself," Harold said truthfully.
"Aren't you supposed to be in the infirmary?" Hermione said, stepping closer to him. She touched his arm, looking at him surprised. The sting was there, but pain in all in the mind.
"I let myself go," Harold said smirking. "I really don't like hospitals." Hermione's eyes lit up like she wanted to ask a question but she didn't. Harold just smirked at her. "You want to know why, but edict dictates you don't ask, correct?" Hermione blushed as he grabbed her arm, and turned her around. "How about this? You show me to my room, I'll tell you why, alright?" She nodded, as he threaded his arm though hers. They walked in silence for a moment or two before Harold began.
"Well, I spent a good deal going to therapy at a hospital as I was younger," Harold said as Hermione had them turn.
"Why?" Hermione asked before blushing at the outburst. Harold felt his mind go over the memories. The green burst, the painful screams of his mother, the haunting fog. He shook his head.
"I'd rather not talk about it, but it in part has a reason to do with me being an orphan," Harold said, a sad smile on his face. He was surprised for the second time that day, or was it the day before, with a hug from her. He returned it with one arm.
"I'm sorry, I never knew," Hermione said. She pulled back, and was surprised to say the least. He gave her a sad smile, knowing she was telling the truth.
"It's okay, I think few do, especially someone who was raised in a normal atmosphere," Harold said. Hermione relaxed a bit before pulling back and blushing. He could not help but feel sadden. Love and affection were in short demand after the ceasing of his childhood.
"You can tell me, when you're ready," Hermione said, as Harold put his arm through hers again.
"I might just take you up on that offer some day," Harold said.
"I'm supposed to show you around the school," Hermione said, Harold gave her a knowing smirk. He figured this was going to happen, and let the cards lie as they fell.
"I think the rest of the tour can wait for tomorrow," Harold said, causing her to laugh. "If you just show me to my room…."
"It'd be my pleasure," Hermione giggled, much to his surprise. He smiled larger, probably larger than he ever had done. She blushed under the smile, but she returned it.
They walked in a comfortable silence to the staircase adjacent to the one that led to the Fat Lady. "We're up here," Hermione said, as Harold looked around. He took everything, memorizing them as fast as he could. The stairs moved, at what seemed to be random intervals. He'd find the math involved at one point of another.
"Dark Night," Hermione said, causing Harry to smirk. "Just the times we live in." Hermione said, looking down. He nodded, liking the sound of it for some odd reason.
It becomes you.
He looked behind him, looking for the source of the voice. Hermione did not hear it, that much he was sure of, but the voice he knew was there. Shaking his head, he turned to take a look at what would be his "home" for the next year.
I0I
Christmas was almost upon them, and the Death Eaters had increased activity. Hermione had wanted to check out any books on them at the library, but someone had beaten her to it the first day back, before all of the attacks. They were yet to be returned, and all the information she had was from the papers, which did nothing to aid her quench for knowledge on the subject. Harry seemed to be about the only other person who was worried though.
Sighing her thoughts drifted to him, as they had done for the umpteenth that semester. He was not the best wizard, but that did not matter to her. She had to tutor him a great deal, and more often than not, he'd pull "Acceptable"s instead of "Outstanding"s on his homework assignments, with maybe the exception of Potions. Straight Os for that class.
The tutoring was about the only time she got to spend with him, as he was often out entertaining some girl. The look on his face when he came back told her enough about him. His was polite man, sometimes too polite. He often said "edict dictates" before going off on another one of these dates. All of the girls he dated loved it, ate up the attention that they got for it. He had been off with at least six girls since school began, but the relieved look and relaxation was reserved for Hermione.
Every morning, the man was up before her, by at least a good hour, and he did not go to be before her, ever. In all the time she knew him, he did not sleep more than five hours a night, choosing to nap during the day instead, like during lunch.
Life so far had this year had been good to her. Harry would sit and listen anytime she needed it. He had blown off a date before, after a confrontation from Ron. She often thought that was the reason he did not date Ginny, was because of Ron actions told Hermione. Which made Ginny hate her just about as much as Ron did. They had stopped talking a long time ago, and often she'd hear of plans Ginny was making to get Harold to notice her. In private, Harry had told her woman who threw themselves at him did not last long. That single statement caused Hermione to suppress a giggle every time she saw Ginny.
Right now, she was going over her Arithmancy homework, making sure everything was perfect. Nothing less. The students were all excited to go home and enjoy the holidays. Ron still was trying to get her to go out with him, but so far it had failed. He had even invited her to go home to the "Burrow" with him, whatever that was. She told him no, and had now no place to go. Her parents were off at some conference in the States.
"Don't move," a soft raspy voice said to her. A hand covered her mouth prevented her from screaming. "I'm going to remove my hand, and if you scream, you'll just make it worse for yourself." She nodded, tears falling down her face. "Good girl, good." A spell was placed upon her, that much she knew, but she could not tell what it was. His hand was removed, and she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"You've been showing off like a little slut for the last three months," the voice said. She began to shake in fear, wanted to beg for mercy, beg to let her live. "Now I figure that means you owe me three months worth." Darkness rose……
I0I
Harold tore down the halls, not caring who he ran into. The note he just got scared him shitless. He had never been so scared before in his life. He finally agreed to go out with Ginny, with the promise that if he didn't think anything was going between them, he wanted her to give up. She agreed, and they were off to Hogsmeade for a "date." And had received the note on the way to the carriages with those god awful horses. Ginny, no doubt, would complain to him about blowing her off, but some things are more important.
Got to find her.
He ran to the library, knowing she was there, but praying she was safe. He was faster than any would have thought. That was the only reason he could explain what he saw next. Why he got there in time.
Harold had run to the back corner of the library, where he found her countless times before. Some bastard had his back turned to him, his wand held over her bent over back. Her torn skirt and underwear were on the floor. Taking in that single piece of information, he lost all knowledge of any skills he had learned, any thought regarding the training he received.
"GET THE HELL OFF HER!" His voice was not his own, not even the cold hard one he used the night of the attack on the train. He rushed the bastard, sending him into a wall. Harold heard the cracking of bones and stood ready to hit him again. "Get up!" He screamed, as the man attempted to. "Get UP!" A bookshelf fell onto the man as the room around them shook with unrelenting fury.
"H-h-h-h-arr-ry," a struggling voice said. He turned, all anger gone from his body. Her eyes were bruised, black and blue closed, and her body was shaking in fear.
"Hermione," he said, wrapping her in a hug. She clung to him tightly, her body racked with sobs. Keeping at least one arm around her, he slide his jacket around her, before pulling her closer. "Did he?" He could not get the words out, fear racking his body. Only one of other time had fear done this to him, only once before….
She shook her head, clinging to him even tighter. He turned, trying to not let his pent up rage flow out again as he noticed the bastard was gone. "He won't hurt you again, Hermione, I promise," Harry said, holding her tighter. Now was not the time to go after that bastard, Hermione needed him. "I'm taking you to Madame Pomfrey, then you're coming to the Manor with me."
"What?" Hermione said, hiccupping between tears. Her mind was pulled away from it, temporarily. She had to calm down.
"I've owled you're parents, earlier this week, asking if you could join me for the holidays," he said calmly. His exterior betrayed his heart and soul, but he needed to keep his anger in check.
"Really," Hermione said, her tears almost stopping. Harry could not help but smile at her.
"Yeah, it took some convincing, but I think with the fact that I got them to trust me helped," Harry said. They had reached the infirmary, causing Hermione's tears to return.
"You won't leave me will you?" Hermione asked, as Harry nodded toward the door, causing it to open inward. He shook his head as Madame Pomfrey came rushing over to him.
"Never."
"What happened?" Madame Pomfrey asked, fear across her face. Harold looked at her for a moment before carrying Hermione over to a bed, letting her down gently. She clung to him tightly, not letting her arms release his next.
"Let the Madame check you out, I'm going to get Dumbledore," Harry said, brushing some of the hair out of her face. Her eyes were closed shut, tears falling down from them.
"No, you said wouldn't leave me," Hermione said, shaking her head once more. Harry smiled a bit, before closing his hand. Silently summoning her/his watch, he opened his hand once more.
"I'm here," he said. He placed the watch upon her chest slowly, not wanting to scare her. She opened her eyes at the weight before looking at him in wonder. He placed his pointer finger to his lips, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. "I'll be back." Hermione let go of his neck, in obvious wonder of what he just did, or what she thought he did. He turned to Madame Pomfrey, and his eyes grew cold like steel.
"You help her, heal her," he said coldly. "Harm her anymore, and what Alfred promised you will be ten times easier compared to what I will have in store for you." She nodded under the gaze, and as quickly as it came it passed. Kissing Hermione's forehead lightly, much like a child, Harold turned and walked out of the infirmary, his dark gaunt directed toward Dumbledore's office.
He patiently waited at the gargoyle, smiling politely at the girls who passed him by, causing them to gush and giggle over him. He walked calmly up the rotating steps to the Headmaster office. He quietly shut the door of the office, and looked at the Headmaster.
"Good evening," Dumbledore said to him.
"There is nothing good about," his voice was void of emotion as he spoke. Dumbledore gave him a queer look. "I believe that you once said the Headmaster knew most everything that was carried on in his school."
"That is correct," Dumbledore said slowly. He sat down at the chair in front of the Headmaster, steepling his fingers.
"Then example to me why in about five minutes I will have to hunt down one of the students, rendering him unconscious before deliver him to Azkaban?" His eyes glared across the table.
"What? Why?" Dumbledore managed to get out.
"Rape is a very serious crime, as is attempted rape, and assault," he rose from his seat before giving Dumbledore a final look. "I never was here, I never told you any this. I will deliver the scumbag to you, but you will tell the world it was the same man who was one the train."
"That being you," Dumbledore said. He nodded, before turning back to the door. "Why hide, why hide when you can do so much good?"
"I'm not ready to take back the night, make it safe again," he said, his shoulders hung low. "But I am ready to make it safe for my best friend." His voice was softer, calmer as he spoke the last part before it froze once more. He dropped the note upon Dumbledore's desk letting the old man read it. "He will not die, Professor, I will not harm a hair on his body. His mind, however is mine to destroy. Alfred trusts you, and so shall I." He left, the cloud of darkness following the dark night.