Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: It seems that the more I write, the darker this fic becomes. I just can't write pure fluff, it has to be dramatic at some point. I thrive on drama! But don't cry, my stories always have a happy end!
CHAPTER SIX
Danger ne plus ultra
Another tear escaped and glided down her cheek onto the pillow that was becoming wet and uncomfortable. In the isolation of her bedroom Hermione indulged in rare moments of emotional weakness. She cried her eyes out, unwitnessed and unchallenged. And she made sure that Harry never guessed. She was afraid that if she cried in front of him, just once, he would break down. And she was supposed to be strong for him. She was all he had. She was his everything.
Unless you have experienced it yourself, you can never understand what it really feels like to have no parents or grandparents, no family or close people for the biggest part of your life. You can't begin to imagine what it's like to be raised by a family that neglects you and mistreats you to the point where your own ability to trust and love someone is impaired. Your parents and your loved ones serve as a trellis for you to build up future relationships with other people. They are the building blocks, the first links in the chain. That Harry trusted her so completely was a miracle. Everything he ever had was taken away from him. Even his late found godfather, which most people would not even consider a family. But Harry didn't have any better. He had nothing. Now he relied on her for support and care that he lacked all his life. And she wasn't going to let him down. She would become the best surrogate of family, and he'd want no other. There would be no sadness between them. She told him ceaselessly that he would be all right. And she hoped that she managed to channel some of that unshakeable credulity to him.
It was Christmas today and Christmas was the time when people were supposed to be happy with their family and friends. Today she would make Harry smile and laugh. Today nothing would be missing in his life.
With that in mind, Hermione wiped her eyes and got up from her bed. After making sure that there was no trace of tears in her eyes and that she looked presentable, she stepped out of her dorm and gaily walked down the stairs.
The Common Room was a mess, that was her first thought upon seeing it. It looked like Neville's clumsy attempt at concocting a highly complicated potion. In the wrong cauldron, with the wrong ingredients. In Hermione's opinion, the gaudy decorations were slightly over the top, and whoever the person behind the idea was, he must have had a very vague notion of harmony and style. Boisterous waves of light-pink and golden silk, reminiscent of angelic clouds on the medieval religious paintings, meandered across the walls and the ceiling. As a contrast, small branches of fur-tree and mistletoe were attached to it at intervals. Frosty windows were sprinkled with a silvery substance of unknown origin. On top of that a number of sofas and arm-chairs, upholstered in checkered purple-yellow velvet, were dispersed in zigzags.
In the middle of all this carnival of colours Hermione spotted two heads, one blond and one dark, bent over a glossy magazine. By all the giggling and whispering she gathered that these were Lavender and Parvati. A tad apprehensive, Hermione took the last steps down the stairs and stopped in the middle of the Common Room.
"Oh, Hermione!" Lavender squealed as she looked up. "Do you like it?"
"You mean you have put this all up yourselves?" Hermione asked in wonder. She should have guessed who the masterminds of the transformation were.
Lavender and Parvati both nodded fervently.
"Well, I must say that this is very…unconventional," Hermione uttered with a crooked smile.
"Yes, we just thought we should give some Christmas flair to this room," Lavender explained.
"You should go see the Great Hall!" Parvati added. "It has never looked so beautiful before!"
"Did you decorate that too?" Hermione's eyes grew wide.
"No, but it's still lovely. And it will be absolutely fantastic this evening, I daresay. You are going to the Christmas Ball, aren't you?"
"Of course," Hermione replied with a smile. She had a surprise for Harry.
The Great Hall was decorated with multicoloured banners. Thousands of tiny candles were floating in the air, creating a very cozy atmosphere. The Christmas tree was towering in the corner in all its glory and a few members of the staff were adding finishing touches to it. Young couples would blush and giggle, when passing under the mistletoe, which was present in abundance. The house elves, who bawled Christmas carols at the top of their voices, could be heard from the kitchens and Peeves was throwing bright confetti in the students' faces. Hermione had to admit that this was a very unusual Christmas.
At the Gryffindor table Harry and Ron were enthusiastically digging into the lunch prepared by the house elves. Harry's eyes met hers and he gave her a very mysterious look. But Hermione didn't attach any importance to it, and for gear that Ron might notice something, she ignored his stare for what seemed to Harry like an eternity. Finally, he gave up his hopes of communicating a message to her and decided to leave.
"Oh, Harry, I must warn you that the Common Room has been quite transformed," Hermione's voice followed him.
"Huh?" both Ron and Harry were surprised.
"It's very Guggenheim, if you know what I mean," she laughed.
The boys looked even more puzzled, especially Ron who had never seen any modern muggle art in his life.
"Oh, go see for yourself," she giggled. "Just don't talk to Lavender and Parvati."
Confused, Harry wandered off. When Hermione finished her lunch, she gathered her books and went to the library to do some more studying before the Ball. Ron followed her with his eyes. He pinched himself to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. Hermione just giggled! She never giggled before. And what's with those covert glances all of a sudden?
"What's with Harry and Hermione these days?" he wondered aloud.
"Love does crazy things to people," Ginny whispered.
"What was that?" Ron turned to his sister.
"Nothing, Ron," she smiled mysteriously. "It's nothing."
Ron was befuddled. Not only his two best friends were being odd again, but his sister went bonkers too. They all ought to see a Healer, he thought.
* * *
Harry's breath caught in his throat when he saw Hermione enter the Great Hall. Her brown wavy hair framed her oval face and fell in curls down her back. An elegant gown the shade of teal fitted over her curvy body. He was mesmerized by her beauty and had to force himself to look away from her, so as not to attract attention.
"You look stunning, Hermione," he whispered in her ear when they took their places at the Gryffindor table.
"I wanted to surprise you," she whispered back.
His gorgeous girlfriend attracted a lot of attention from male students of Hogwarts and Harry was secretly swelling with pride. As hard as he tried, he couldn't take his eyes off her. If he thought that she looked beautiful at the Yule Ball two years ago, now she looked absolutely divine. During the next couple of hours the viands on the table were all Ron cared for, hardly sparing a glance at his friends. Unhindered, Hermione and Harry could hold hands under the table and talk to each other in low voices.
"Do you think it would be all right, if I asked you to dance with me?" Harry whispered in her ear.
She nodded and got up. He took her hand in his and led her into the middle of dancing couples. Her gown made a soft rustling sound as she twirled around the Hall. Harry, feeling very venturesome that evening, put his hands on her waist. When the song was over, they trudged through the boisterous crowd and left the Great Hall, unnoticed.
The Gryffindor Common Room was dark and empty. Harry lit the fire in the fireplace and Hermione winced at the sight of tawdry ornaments and pieces of furniture. They slumped onto one of the sofas, still holding hands.
"Merry Christmas, baby!" Harry murmured and leaned in to kiss her.
"Merry Christmas!" she smiled at him and stroked his cheek.
"I almost forgot! I got you a present," he remembered.
He reached into the pocket of his trousers and took out a small, rectangular box of black velvet.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione whispered, taken aback. "You shouldn't have. I already have you."
"Open it," he urged with a smile.
Shyly, she opened the box. Inside laid the most beautiful piece of jewelry she'd ever seen. It was a locket of white gold. The dragon on the lid disgorged flames of blazing fire. Tiny gems that made up its body scintillated in the dark. She opened the locket and out poured a slow romantic melody. On the inside of the lid an inscription in Latin was engraved: Dimidium animae meae ('half of my soul').
Hermione closed the locket and burst into tears.
"What? You don't like it?" Harry was confused.
"Oh, Harry," she sobbed. "This is so beautiful! But my gift is so worthless compared to this!"
"What are you talking about!" he laughed. "I was delighted to get those Quidditch accessories from you! They are worthier to me than a piece of diamond."
"I love you, Harry," she sighed. "I think I haven't told you that enough times."
He wiped off her tears. "I love you too, Hermione."
He was about to kiss her again, when Crookshanks appeared out of nowhere. The cat meowed and rubbed his flat snout against the silky hem of Hermione's dress.
"I think he's jealous!" she laughed.
Crookshanks wedged his way between the two lovers and purred happily. Ignoring the cat, they finally shared that kiss.
They were so absorbed in their feelings, that they didn't hear someone come in through the hole in the portrait. Of all people who could walk in on them kissing, it happened to be Ron Weasley. He entered the Gryffindor Common Room and when he saw Hermione passionately kissing his best friend Harry, he thought he was hallucinating. But it wasn't a hallucination. It was very disturbingly real.
"Oh, I see now! That explains a lot!" he snapped angrily.
Harry and Hermione jumped away from each other, taken unawares. Hermione was round-eyed with fear. There was also badly hidden panic on Harry's face. Right now, explaining things to Ron was what he wanted to do the least. In an attempt to encourage Hermione, Harry took her hand and gently squeezed it.
Ron's eyes were bloodshot and his face turned purple. Without a word, he whirled around and stomped out of the Common Room, banging the portrait behind him so hard that the Fat Lady let out a whimper. Harry gulped. He and Hermione looked at each other awkwardly.
"Should I go talk to him?" Harry asked uneasily.
"No," Hermione sighed and sat on the sofa again. "He won't talk to you anyway. Let's wait until he calms down a little. We'll try to talk to him tomorrow."
Harry nodded sadly.
As usually, their secret spread quickly across the whole school. The next morning there wasn't a single person there, who didn't whisper about the scandalous couple. When they entered the Great Hall for breakfast that morning, all heads turned in their direction.
Purposefully ignoring everyone, Harry and Hermione joined their classmates at the table. Lavender and Parvati looked like they would burst with curiosity. And Ginny was the only one in the Hall grinning with a knowing gleam in her eyes. Ron, however, was nowhere to be seen. As Hermione expected, the school was rife with rumors, but she hoped that by now Ron would be willing to talk to her again. Harry, who had also noticed the absence of their best friend, was trying to cheer her up, but Hermione was still upset. She felt their once so strong friendship go to pieces. She couldn't lose Ron now. But no matter how upset she felt now, somehow she knew that the worst was still to come.
After the breakfast she parted with Harry and went to the place where she was certain she would find Ron.
Ron was sitting on a bench at the bottom of the Gryffindor stands, polishing the handle of his broom. He was still brooding. He'd always had a short fuse, he knew that. But no one could make him as mad as Hermione did. Going out with Harry and not tell him! That was hard to forgive.
Hermione bustled along the winding path towards the Quidditch pitch. Even from the distance she could see Ron's ginger head on the Gryffindor stands. Anxiously, she headed towards him. When she sat down next to him, he eyed her grimly.
"Ron, please talk to me," she pleaded.
He continued to apply the polish as if he hadn't heard a thing.
"Harry and I are very sorry about this. We should have told you," she whispered fearfully. "We apologize."
Ron put away his broom and looked at her intently.
"Ron, are you mad at me, because you fancy me?" she asked timidly.
"What???" he goggled at her. "Is that why you didn't let me in on your secret?"
Hermione was taken aback.
"Why then did you react like that?" she was bewildered.
Ron frowned and dropped his eyes.
"I was just afraid that because you two were dating, I would be excluded," he muttered. "You don't need me anymore."
"No, Ron!" she protested. "Don't be ridiculous! You are still our best friend. We love you and we need you."
"All right, I believe you," he smiled wryly.
Hermione leaned over and kissed her friend on the cheek then gripped him in a warm embrace. Ron always felt incredibly awkward when Hermione hugged and kissed him, which she tended to do a lot every time they were reconciled with each other after every piddling argument. At least she wasn't crying now, that he couldn't handle.
Hermione was cheery again. She hated it when they quarreled, as it always reminded her of the rows they had in their third year because of their pets. That was a horrible experience and she didn't want to go through it again. Especially now when their future seemed so vague. Will they ever be happy together? Will there be time when she won't have to worry about their lives?
* * *
The heavy rectangles of the tombstones stood out in the dark. In the distance he recognized the branchy yew-tree. The graveyard was encircled by the tall figures of Death Eaters, as usually clad in black. But their presence was outshone by the man in front of Harry. His nemesis, Lord Voldemort. Nurtured by Nagini's venom and Harry's blood, he was a real person of flesh and blood.
"So we meet again, Potter," he sizzled.
That voice sent shivers down Harry's spine. It didn't bode any good.
"I have a little surprise for you."
Voldemort stepped aside and Harry saw an unconscious body at his feet. The body of the person he loved with all his heart. His Hermione. She was chained to a tombstone. In a split second Voldemort snatched her body, her chains rattling, and Harry saw the words engraved on the stone plate: 'here lay our beloved friends Lily and James Potter'. Harry's mouth went dry. He was standing at his parents' grave. Voldemort laughed raucously, drawing Harry's attention again, and pointed his wand to Hermione's throat.
"Say goodbye to your little girlfriend, Potter!"
Harry jerked and nearly fell out of his bed. He was drenched in sweat and his scar was searing with pain. Clutching his blanket, he tried to calm down. With relief he noted that it was quiet in the dormitory, at least he didn't scream this time. He took his wand from his bedside table and conjured himself a glass of water. He took a gulp and sank back onto the pillow.
Everyone was always jealous of his fame and the attention that he got. Well, these people had no idea what his life was like. Not only didn't he enjoy it, but he was constantly reminded of who he was. 'Why, if it isn't the famous Harry Potter!' came from all sides. But he didn't mind it that much. He rather preferred to be called to on the street or asked for an autograph. That was annoying, but not harmful. However, when he was reminded of his identity in such a crude way (and Voldemort was notorious for his unrefined manners), he wished he could put an end to this. And there was really no saying when he would at last cast off his chains. Last year's nightmares taught him a lesson and now he took his dreams seriously. He was positive that this dream was a sign, an omen. Voldemort was threatening him. He was up to something.
With that thought firmly nestled in his mind, he tried to live the next day as if nothing had happened. He was tired of people fretting because of him, especially Hermione. If she asked him what was wrong with him, he couldn't just say that he had got a not so subtle warning about her death, could he? Besides, deception was a useful thing to learn for his future career as an Auror.
Pretending in front of Hermione was especially easy, because he'd been avoiding her the whole day. Not a very smart move on his part, because Hermione felt immediately that something was wrong. After the dinner, which Harry had missed, she went looking for him. She couldn't find him anywhere. He wasn't at the lake or the library. He wasn't on the Astronomy Tower either. She looked everywhere. Then a sudden thought struck her - he could be in the Room of Requirement. She ran fast to the seventh floor. She stopped only when she found herself opposite the tapestry with Barnabus the Barmy on it. She walked past the wall three times while concentrating on Harry. The concealed entrance to the room soon appeared before her.
When she entered the room, she saw him sitting in a chair, facing the fireplace, with his back to the door. He didn't hear her come in. He didn't move and his body looked rigid. Hermione approached him and gingerly put her hands on his shoulders. He started, but then smiled, as he saw who it was. But his smile didn't fool her. She started massaging his stiff shoulders and Harry closed his eyes and leaned back.
"Is there something that bothers you?" she asked, moving her hands over his shoulder blades.
"Hmm, that feels good," he drawled.
She was waiting for the answer. She knew, he would tell her eventually.
"I had a dream about Voldemort," he said finally.
She froze at his words and her fingernails dug into his skin. She knew it would happen one day and she would have to be ready, but deep in her heart she still hoped that this day would never come.
"What was it about?" she asked as calmly as she could, so that he wouldn't notice how scared she was. But he did. And at that moment he hated Voldemort even more, this time for causing pain to someone he loved.
"Come here," he pulled her hand and she sat on his lap.
Despite everything, Harry was trying to be brave and it broke her heart. He needed her, but she felt so helpless. She was the wiseacre Hermione Granger, the smartest student in the history of Hogwarts, but her knowledge was useless. She couldn't save him. She just wrapped her arms around him and sat with him in silence.
Harry closed his eyes and stroked her bushy hair. If it was even possible, his love for Hermione had just been raised to the power of hundred. How did she do that? She didn't say or do anything really, but she made him feel so comforted. Merlin, he was one lucky guy. Not because he was Harry Potter with a famous scar, but because he had her.
Long after Hermione had left him, he was still sitting in that chair, pondering his options. He had to do something to get Hermione out of danger. Not even for a second did he doubt that Voldemort's message to him was real. If he decided to kill Hermione, he would do it. There was just one thing Harry could do now, but just the thought of it caused him so much pain.
In the afternoon, a whirr of wings distracted Hermione from her essay on goblin rebellions. A dark brown owl hooted as it landed on the back of her chair. Hermione took off a letter that was attached to the owl's paw. She eyed it curiously. It was a white piece of parchment that had nothing special about it. When she unsealed the letter, it was blank. Invisible ink? 'Aparecium!' She whispered the incantation of the spell to make invisible ink visible and a short sentence appeared on the smooth surface. Wait for me on the Astronomy Tower at midnight. There was no signature. What did he want? And why this secrecy all of a sudden? Couldn't he just tell her whatever he wanted to tell her when they would see each other next morning? She gave a note another cursory read, but it didn't reveal any extra information. She threw the piece of parchment in the blazing fireplace and it caught fire. It curled up, shrinking, until it was reduced to ashes.
When she came up to the tower, the cutting wind penetrated her robes and she shivered. He was standing by the wall, staring into the night. He must have heard her coming, because he turned around. His pale skin was glowing white in the moonlight and her heart went out to him.
"You came," he said softly.
"Harry?" she stroked his face, "What happened?"
"I received some bad news," he answered, covering her hand with his.
He didn't say anything else and she didn't dare ask. She didn't want to know. He pulled her towards him and put his hands on the small of her back, burying his dark head in the crook of her neck.
"We both knew that this would never go away until I kill him," he murmured.
"You're safe here," she tried to reason with him. "Professor Dumbledore won't let anyone come near you."
"Even Dumbledore is not that omnipotent, Hermione."
She didn't protest.
"Do you know how much I love you, Hermione?" he asked as he lifted up his head and looked in her eyes.
"Yes, I do." Her eyes watered with emotion as she looked in his eyes. "And I love you even more."
"Never forget that I love you and I always will," he pressed.
"I won't," she whispered.
He pulled her in a hug and rested his lips on her forehead.
"It's cold here. Let's go inside," she whispered in his ear.
She took his hand and led him down the stairs and into the dark corridor.
"Where are we going," Harry asked, when they walked past the turn to the Gryffindor Tower.
"To the Room of Requirement," she replied.
Harry stared at her with wide eyes. "Why?"
"I just want to be alone with you. I'm tired of all these people sneaking about. I want some privacy."
He didn't know what she had in her mind, but he quite liked the room when he saw it. It was spacious enough to appear cozy. There was a fireplace in the opposite wall and a thick carpet in front of it. In the corner stood a comfortable-looking sofa with soft cushions scattered all over it.
They both sagged on the cushions and for hours on end they just talked. He poured out his soul to her and she listened attentively. He told her things that he had never told anybody. She absorbed all his pain and misery and Harry felt un-manacled.
When Harry awakened, Hermione was fast asleep and he felt her warm breath on his cheek. He sneaked a glance at his watch. It was almost three o'clock. They talked till they both fell asleep. With great care he lifted her head off his chest and put it down on the pillow. He covered her with a blanket and she stirred a little in her sleep.
He watched her with a smile on his lips. He realized that maybe it was the last time he saw her. He didn't know if he was coming back. That's why he didn't tell her. If he did, she would cry and plead him not to go, making it even harder for him to leave her. No, he just couldn't bear it. He had to go and finish this, even if he knew it would break her heart.
"Just don't forget me, Hermione," he whispered as his fingers gingerly grazed her cheek. "Don't forget me."
When he was at the door, he turned around to look at her again, capturing her image in his memory.
"I'm so sorry," he said softly, his voice cracking with emotion.
His eyes lingered on her beautiful face for another moment before he swiftly turned around and left the room.