A Place of Contemplation
by Jardyn39
Chapter 11: Seven Minutes Past Three
Harry woke slowly and crinkled his nose at the unpleasant smell of a sterilised ward. He opened his eyes and realised he was in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
The last thing he remembered was Hermione standing in front of him. She had fired. He vaguely remembered another room and an elderly goblin, but that may just have been a dream.
He groped for his glasses but couldn't find them.
Someone with long red hair came up to him and said, "Here, Harry, let me help you."
"Ginny!"
"Hello, stranger," she said warmly, placing his spectacles on his face.
Harry grinned up at her. She looked thin, but the smile on her face told him she was well.
"I'm so glad you're okay. Is that Neville over there?" he asked, indicating the bedside she had come over from.
"No, Harry. Neville's down there a ways."
"Who is that then?" asked Harry, seeing that they were heavily bandaged.
"Well, that one is Bill and next to him is Dad."
"What?"
Ginny nodded and smiled tearfully. "They found them locked up at the Ministry. They are very poorly, but the Healers think they'll be okay. They'll need to stay in hospital for some time, though."
"And Neville?"
"He'll pull through."
"Do you mind keeping the chatter down? Some of us are trying to recover here, you know?"
Harry looked sideways to see a sardonic Snape sitting up in the adjacent bed, wearing a black silk nightshirt.
"Aren't those Harry's grapes?" asked Ginny. "Sorry, Harry, but Neville's stirring. I'll see you later," she said before hurrying up the ward.
"She's been charging around this ward for two days ever since she got back from Azkaban, trying to say a few words to people before they pass out again. I did suggest she knock them out and wake them up when she was ready to see them, but she didn't appear to think much of that idea."
Harry just tried to move a little. His muscles were feeling incredibly stiff from lying still.
"Molly said she'd be back to see you later," drawled Snape.
Harry nodded and pulled himself up into a sitting position. He realised there was something different about his glasses.
He reached up with both hands and slipped them off. Holding them close so he could see clearly, Harry realised that the frames were entirely new. On the outside, they looked identical to his old pair, except that the scratches were now missing from the bronzed metal. The inside, the face unseen when he wore them, though, was very different.
Harry brought them closer, marvelling at the workmanship. The inside faces were gold, intricately inlayed with what looked like fine silver wire set out in spiralling patterns. Stretching along each temple arm of the frame, Harry recognised Goblin script, although he had no idea what it said.
"What do you make of this?" he asked, holding out his glasses vaguely to where Snape was.
He felt the glasses being pulled from his fingers.
"Have you seen anything like that?"
"I have," replied Snape. "Just once. The workmanship is Goblin, no doubt. This side is a motto that doesn't really have a translation in English. It is commonly inscribed on a token gift, say from a father to son. It is, I suppose, an affirmation; a reminder that although the elder may sometimes be distant, the younger still enjoys the protection of the elder."
Harry frowned. The word, "Elder," meant something to him for some reason. He couldn't quite remember what.
"The other inscription is phonetic. It appears to be in English. I believe it says something like, Trolls you may run from, but in the face of Injustice you will stand."
Snape held his arm out and Harry reached out and put the glasses on again.
"I don't remember receiving these glasses."
"Well, from the unassuming style, I would say whoever gifted them to you knows you rather well."
"These couldn't be charmed, could they?"
"I doubt it. Dumbledore's spectacles had something similar inscribed on them, although his frames were made entirely from gold. I had the honour to be present once when the Goblins presented him with a new pair."
Harry nodded and turned to look at Snape properly.
"You okay?"
"No thanks to you."
"You're welcome, Professor."
Snape smirked and tossed the half eaten bag of fruit over to him.
"Thanks."
"Regrettably, Ronald Weasley is dead. His body was recovered yesterday. The remains of the Dark Lord's book were found next to you, as a matter of fact. Did you destroy it?"
"No, that wasn't me. I feel awful saying this, but I was afraid he had Apparated out. Still, he never could do it if he was in a panic."
"Indeed."
"What happened to Hermione?"
"Miss Granger is alive and physically well, but she remains in a trance like state. They found her unconscious next to you but, rather curiously, neither of you was found where I was. I believe Molly is visiting her now."
Harry immediately threw off his bedclothes.
"What ward is she in?"
*
Harry pushed the heavy wheelchair out of the lift on the Fourth Floor and asked, "Which way?"
"Spell Damage," read Snape. "That way."
"You could have just told me where she was," complained Harry.
"Yes, but I was bored with that ward."
Harry backed into the ward entrance doors and pulled Snape and the wheelchair through. He turned the wheelchair around only to see a tearful Mrs Weasley coming towards them.
"Harry, dear," she sniffed. "I'm afraid there's no improvement yet."
Harry abandoned Snape and walked down to the end of the ward. A lone figure was standing with her back to him, looking out of the window.
"Hermione?"
Harry approached. Her eyes looked much the same as before. He gently turned her so they were face to face. Her face was still entirely passive, but eyes darted around, looking anywhere but at him.
"I'm going to try something," he said gently.
At first he attempted to read her feelings and emotions. All he saw was a jumble of horrific images, presumably the things Ron or Voldemort had forced her to do and witness.
Harry broke his contact, and sighed.
"Show her, Harry," urged Snape, who must have wheeled himself down to join them. "Show her your feelings and the power that gave you to defeat the Dark Lord. She has a right to know."
Harry closed his eyes a moment, and then opened them. He projected the last few moments of his final encounter with Voldemort into her mind.
Unfortunately, he didn't quite have the control over his emotions he'd hoped for. In place of the final encounter, he ended up replaying his entire nightmare.
As their link grew deeper, Harry felt the pull of whatever was controlling Hermione's mind.
*
Harry stood in a familiar white room surrounded by debris. Hermione was sitting, facing away from him, in the white chair.
"Hermione?"
She turned to look at him. Her eyes looked normal.
"Hi, Harry. How are you doing? Welcome to my world, by the way."
Her voice was even and calm. The only time she had sounded like that before was when she was very, very angry with him.
"Your world? I don't understand. This is just like the hotel room where I took Snape's potion. I thought I saw you then too, actually."
"Yes, I remember seeing you too."
"I'm still not sure I understand. Anyway, Hermione, I need you to snap out of this."
Harry stepped over the mangled remains of the white bedstead and walked towards her.
"We're in St. Mungo's," he said gently. "I was trying to reach you. I felt you remembering the things that happened with Ron."
"Oh, yes. I remember. That's all I ever see these days."
"I need you back, Hermione. We need to start to put things right. I can't face anything without you."
"Be realistic, Harry," she spat. "All I have to look forward to, at best, is a lifetime in Azkaban."
"Did you have any control over what you were doing?"
"I couldn't stop myself, no. The awful thing is, I'm not sure how much I would have stopped had I been able to."
"I'm sure, Hermione."
Hermione's shoulders sagged. Harry knelt before her and held her hands in her lap.
"On the morning of the day that I left Hogwarts, I told Ron the real reason why I was leaving. I've never seen him so angry."
"Yes, I remember him telling me after you'd gone. He said you wanted to make a fresh start now that your magic had gone. He felt you were wrong to abandon your friends too."
"I did tell him that, but that wasn't all. Do you remember that time when you all broke into the hospital wing to see me?"
Hermione smiled fleetingly.
"We knew we would get into trouble, but Ron insisted you had to be present when we celebrated. Even if you were unconscious at the time."
Harry snorted and said, "Yes. The thing is, I wasn't unconscious for the whole time. I came round briefly, when it was quieter. You and Ron were talking. I heard, Hermione."
"Oh."
"You seemed so happy and optimistic for a future together. I know it was selfish of me, but I just couldn't bear to stay. I was happy for you both, honestly, but I really didn't think I could cope seeing you with anyone else, even Ron.
"As I lay there, I tried to perform Legilimency on you again. I'd never been able to read you before, but that time I felt the happiness inside you. The love you felt for Ron."
"Well, I probably was feeling a lot of love and happiness then, Harry, but not necessarily for Ron. Actually, I was planning on letting Ron down gently after we left school. I couldn't spoil things for him, not when things looked so good for him. I decided it would be best once he settled into his new job."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"I'm surprised you couldn't read that in me. After all, I was sitting on you bed holding your hand at the time, wasn't I?"
"I suppose, I've never been able to read you clearly."
"So what else did you tell Ron that made him so mad?"
"I told him how I really defeated Voldemort. You see, I worked out what the Prophecy meant. Well, more like, how it applied. Dumbledore told me what it was, but it took me until the final second to work it out.
"You see, Voldemort drained me of the last of my magic. I knew I was dead. Nothing mattered then. He had won. The thing is, the power he knows not, had nothing to do with magic. So when I finally admitted my feelings, knowing that a moment later it was all going to be over, this power rather overwhelmed him, to put it mildly. You see, we were still linked. The power was simply my love for you."
"You seriously told Ron that?"
"Well, yes."
"No wonder he was glad to see you go. He kept accusing me of harbouring feelings for you. I refused to dignify his accusations with a response, so he assumed I had. He became intolerable after that. I finished with him about a week after he started work at the Ministry.
"I had hoped you would come to your senses by then and get in touch.
"I didn't see him again until after the first trials. He turned up just before the second round of trials and insisted I join him. He said you'd been in contact and wanted to meet. Of course I agreed to go with him at once.
"I woke up here, in this white room. I hardly recognised him here, though. It was as if he was different here.
"Anyway, Ron went berserk and smashed everything except that chair. The last thing to go was the clock. I kept on insisting that you'd come, but some small part of me feared you wouldn't come back at all.
"That's when he got me to admit what happened, when I caught up with you just before you left. Once I felt those feelings again, I was lost. He had control."
"I'm so sorry, Hermione."
"We're a fine pair, aren't we, Harry?"
Harry grinned at her, and they leaned together until their foreheads touched.
"Your Legilimens skills are getting much better, you know? I saw the entire dream this time."
"This time?"
"I realise now that I've been seeing flashes of your dreams and nightmares for years when we were at school. I assumed I was just empathising with you."
"Let's get out of here, shall we?"
"How? I'm trapped here."
"Ron's dead. Neither he nor Voldemort can control you now."
"Voldemort?"
"Yes, he was using Ron this time. I'm convinced part of Ron remained, though. He protected his family. Well, he prevented them from being killed, anyway."
Harry got up and tried to open the door. It was locked.
He pointed his wand at the lock and said, "Alohomora!"
Harry suddenly felt a sharp pain to his forehead, like a very bad headache.
"Ouch," said Hermione, rubbing her temple. "You were safer without any magic."
"Sorry," said Harry as he went over to the window. He tried to slide the sashes open, but they wouldn't budge.
"Should I try and break the glass?" asked Harry.
"No, not yet anyway."
Hermione was examining the contents of the room. Harry joined her in sifting through the items.
"Hermione, why didn't you look at either Ron or me?"
"Oh, that was the only thing I could do to resist. Pathetic, I know, but it did annoy him."
Harry realised she was picking the tiny clock movement pieces out of the carpet. Harry started to do the same and brought them to her when he had a handful.
Hermione was frowning, trying to remember something.
"What is it?" asked Harry.
"It's no use. I've been trying to remember ever since I got here. Ron smashed this clock after he placed the charm on me. I'm sure I didn't see the face, though."
"Why, is the time important?"
"Possibly, yes."
"Well, Snape made me take a potion in this room at a precise time. I took it at exactly seven minutes past three, by this clock."
"That's absurd, Harry. How on earth would Professor Snape know?"
"I don't know. Maybe the seagulls told him."
"What are you talking about?"
"Look, let's just try and repair the clock."
They placed the bits in a small pile and stood.
"Ready to face the music?" he asked gently.
"It's going to be awful."
"Yes, it will; but better than before. I don't know what will happen, but we'll face it together."
Harry pointed his wand at the clock parts, and took hold of Hermione's hand.
"Reparo!"
The clock jumped back together, looking as good as new on the white carpet, still surrounded by the side table debris. Several small bits they missed had jumped across the room.
Harry knelt down and set the clock hands.
They waited, hand in hand, as the second hand approached seven minutes past three.
*
Harry found himself once again standing in the hospital ward. The flash that accompanied them still filled his eyes and he couldn't see yet.
He was still holding Hermione's hands, and wasn't about to let go.
"Hermione?"
He felt her lean towards him.
"I can't see, Harry."
"It will pass. Don't worry," he assured her as her outline started to become visible.
"One kiss, before they take me away?"
"Not if I can help it."
Harry leaned down towards her. The first clear thing he saw were her clear, bright eyes looking up at him.