Chapter Thirteen: Home Again
A slight motion, a feeling, really, the brush of skin against skin, tender as the flowers opening to the morning dew, and Harry awoke to the painful brightness of the setting sun glaring into his sleep fuzzed vision. Shaking his head slowly, he cleared the sleep from his eyes with a few blinks, then noticed Hermione looking at him, but before he could say anything, she spoke. "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to wake you."
Sitting up with a grimace as abused and stiff muscles protested movement, Harry smiled. "I wasn't planning on sleeping anyways. How are you?"
Hermione smiled at him, and glanced around the room, spotting a set of clean clothing for her nearby. "I'm fine," she responded. "Did you bring those?" she questioned, indicating the clothing with an inclination of her head.
Shaking his head in response, Harry stood. "Madame Pomfrey said you could leave after your nap, I'll go wait over there," he indicated the direction of the Head Nurse's office with a nod of his head, "while you get ready."
He stood, and headed into the Head Nurse's office to inform her that Hermione was awake, and ask if it was permitted for her to go or not. When he returned, Hermione was dressed and sitting on the edge of her bed. "So can I go?" she questioned him.
"Yeah." After a moment, as they made sure they had everything, Harry spoke again as they moved towards the doors. "Are you hungry?" With exquisite timing, he managed to punctuate his question with a growl from his stomach, prompting a laugh from the young witch.
"I am, though it doesn't sound like I'm as hungry as you."
Harry grinned. "Hey, I did the hard work, being the hero. You were just the damsel in distress." Open mouth, insert foot. When did I start channeling Ron?
Hermione glared at him, angrily, but was unable to maintain the façade. "True." She smiled, playing along. "It's so easy being captured by evil dark wizards, being beaten and degraded and shouted at, and being told you're worthless because of the parents you had and…" Playing along had been a bad idea, as Hermione dissolved into tears, and found herself wrapped tenderly in Harry's arms. It only took a moment for it to pass, though.
"Shhh, 'Mione," Harry whispered. "You're safe now, with people who care for you, and know that worth comes from who you are, not your blood."
Sniffling, Hermione looked up at Harry. "I know that, Harry. After all, you're the most powerful wizard ever, and you're only a half blood." The last was said cheekily.
You have no idea how right you are, Hermione, about that. Damn, that was arrogant of me. Harry laughed silently at his own thoughts, as he stood away from the witch in his arms slightly. "Ready to get that food now?"
At her nod, they headed down to the kitchens and tickled the pear, and upon its change to a doorknob, entered the kitchens, where they discovered the house elves working as busily as if preparing for a great feast, despite the fact there was hardly anyone in the castle. It only took a moment, though, before a familiar face appeared out of the crowd, tennis ball eyes shining brightly. "Hello Harry Potter, sir!" came the squeaking voice of Dobby.
"Hello, Dobby," Harry and Hermione chorused together.
"Dobby knows that Harry Potter missed his lunch, sir, to rescue his Herminny. Does Harry Potter and Miss Herminny want some food?"
Harry chuckled. "Actually, that's why we're here, Dobby. We're both quite hungry." This statement prompted an immediate response from the other house elves as Dobby bounded away to clear off the end of one of the great tables.
Once they were seated across from each other, Harry and Hermione were presented with a veritable smorgasbord of different food options. At first, they ate in silence, but then, eventually, Harry spoke, setting his roll down heavily on his plate. "Hermione, when… when the Death Eaters had you… had you prisoner… they…"
Hermione looked up, her eyes slowly becoming glazed with fear as Harry stumbled over the words. As her fear grew, so did her agitation, until she spat, "Spit it out, Harry." She at least had the grace to look sheepish at the look on his face.
"Well, theyputatrackincharmonyou," he let out in a rush.
"They what? Slower."
"They put a tracking charm on you, Hermione. It's bound to your soul, and won't come off until it wears out at the next full moon." Once he had vocalized it the first time, getting it out the second time was easier. Her mouth formed a little 'O' of surprise, and she quickly fell into her thinking expression. Harry continued with his explanation. "Professor Flitwick was going to try and figure out how to remove it, but he was not confident. He suggested you might wish to stay in the castle until it wears off, as the wards block the other Death Eaters from locating you."
Hermione waited a moment as he paused, then prompted, "But?"
"But he also pointed out that staying here will just as effectively advertise where you are, since there are very few places with sufficient magic to block the charm. While we took a Portkey here, it won't take the Death Eaters long to eliminate most of the other sites." Harry looked rather depressed as he dispensed with this information.
Hermione smiled brightly, and showed why nearly eight years before a ragged enchanted wizard's hat had sorted her into Gryffindor. "Well, if the Death Eaters want me so bad, I can't very well stay here. I can be the bait to draw them out."
Harry shook his head and proceeded to explain exactly what he had overheard and learned from Franks and the other Death Eaters, and Hermione's frown grew deeper as she continued to think. Neither of them were touching their food now, but both of them had eaten quite a bit. "What's this Death Exchange the one called Franks mentioned?" she finally asked when he finished.
"I don't know. They apparently need me for it, though, and apparently can get Voldemort back. I think the name is fairly self explanatory, though."
Hermione nodded. "I agree." She looked Harry in the eyes. "Promise me that whatever happens, you won't let it happen, you won't give them Voldemort back, Harry."
As green eyes stared into brown, Harry knew he could not refuse anything that the owner of that liquid chocolate gaze. "I promise, Hermione." Harry hoped to all that was holy and good that he could keep this promise, but knew, deep in his heart, as he had for nearly thirty years, that he would let Voldemort walk the earth again if he could keep Hermione alive. He had, after all, risked it once, and won.
What was to say he could not do it again?
Eventually, they finished their dinner, and were sipping coffee afterwards, idly chatting, when Dobby approached them. "Harry Potter, sir, Miss Herminny? Professor Dumbledore is enquiring as to where you are. He would like to speak with you."
Harry looked guilty. "Oh, right. He said he wanted to know if you were going to stay here or not, Hermione." He looked down at Dobby. "Could you take us to him?"
"Of course!" Dobby squealed in pleasure. "Follow me, Harry Potter, sir, Miss Herminny." He scampered out of the kitchens, and the humans were hard pressed to keep up with him as he led them up through the maze of the castle. Finally they emerged at the top of the North Tower, above the Divination classroom. Dumbledore was standing near the edge, his hands resting on the railing.
His soft voice echoed as they came out of the door. "Dobby, stay here for a moment." He turned to face them. "May I assume Harry has filled you in on the situation, Miss Granger?" At her nod, he asked the next obvious question. "And have you reached a decision?"
Harry glanced at Hermione, as she had not expressed one way or the other once the entire situation was made known to her, and felt no better when he saw her breathe in deeply. "Professor, I will not hide from the Death Eaters just because they stuck some little charm on me. I'll go back home with Harry to Grimmauld Place. Between Harry and Professor Lupin, I'll be safe enough there, especially with all the wards we have in place."
Dumbledore nodded. "I expected as much from a Gryffindor, Miss Granger." He smiled, his eyes twinkling in the starlight. "Now, as Kreacher is gone from your house, Harry, I was wondering if you might like to have Dobby and Winky come be your house elves." Hermione's mouth snapped open to object, but Dumbledore anticipated her, a grin spreading onto his face. "Assuming they wish to, of course."
Hermione's mouth snapped shut, and Harry chuckled as the expression on the young witch's face gave away that she knew she had been played successfully. Dobby began bouncing up and down at the Headmaster's words, blubbering incoherently, but joyfully, as far as Harry could tell. Then he popped out, as house elves were wont to do, even at Hogwarts, only to reappear a moment later with Winky. "If Harry Potter will have us, we will gladly go to help him and Miss Herminny."
"Of course I'll have you, Dobby," Harry began, only to be knocked down by a mass of flying, joyfully weeping house elf in full Hermione 'It's been all summer since I saw you last' tackle hug mode. A chuckling Hermione and Dumbledore, and a suddenly weeping and horrified Winky made the scene into complete and utter humiliation for the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Defeat-Voldemort.
Eventually, Harry pried Dobby off him, and set him upright on the roof as he stood once more. "We'll work out the details tomorrow, Dobby, Winky," he said to both elves. "I think tonight me and Hermione just need to go back home and rest."
"Of course, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby and Winky will arrive in the morning with breakfast," the two elves chorused in their high voices.
Harry smiled. "Just make sure it's not dogfood."
Hermione turned bright red, visible even in the dark of night, and Dumbledore's eyes brightened noticeably with silent laughter before he directed the group towards the door leading back down into the school. "You can use the fire in my office to return to the House of Black.
* * * * *
When Hermione came through the fireplace, she found a sooty Harry already collapsed on the couch, staring blankly at the flames. Muttering something unintelligible under her breath, she joined him on the couch, gazing on his mask-like visage.
After about five minutes of utter silence, the young witch could not take it anymore, and opened her mouth to speak, but Harry beat her to it. "Aren't you going to bed, Hermione?"
"Not until you do," she responded heatedly, annoyed that he had preempted her question to him.
"I'm not going. The nightmares will be back, and I can't stand to see them again." Harry glowered at her, despite the tears building in his eyes. "I can't stand them blaming me for failing them, for not being good enough, fast enough, strong enough, for failing to save them all. All of them, they mock me, and then… then he comes, and tells me I was doomed to fail, that I could never have done it." Harry met her eyes with his own, and anger blazed in his gaze, tears now dripping down his cheeks. "I refuse to listen to them any more. When they're in the fire, they're silent."
Hermione gasped slightly in shock, for Harry's nightmares were far worse than she had ever imagined they could be, and for a moment, her brain froze. How could she possibly ask him to sleep and face those demons? No wonder he was angry. She could not, of course, she could not hurt him by doing so. Finally her brain caught up to her. "Did you have those nightmares when you slept last night?"
After a moment, Harry shook his head. "No, I didn't."
Hermione got a bright idea in her head, smiling to herself, knowing she would get to spend at least part of the night in Harry's arms again. In his bed! If it worked. "Well, why was that?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because I didn't feel alone last night, I didn't feel like a failure." He smiled at her, the witch he loved and could never tell. "You've always helped me be stronger, like for the first task in the Tri-wizard Tournament, and when you helped me with the DA, when I told you and Ron about the prophecy."
Hermione blushed slightly. "Well, I'm your friend, Harry, and I want to help you as much as I can." She scooted closer to him on the couch, reaching out to touch the back of his hand lightly. "Do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep? Would that help you?" Harry looked surprised at the offer, and it showed. "Now don't you go getting any funny ideas, Harry James Potter."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Hermione. You're my friend, and I know how to behave." He forced a leer onto his face, grinning and chuckling.
Too damn right you know how to behave. I wish you wouldn't, though. Through her answering laughter, though, she forced a response. "Fine, Harry, you go get ready for bed, and I'll join you in a minute, until you fall asleep."
* * * * *
Thirty minutes later, Hermione forced her eyes open all the way and carefully disentangled herself from her gentle embrace of Harry, as his gentle breathing, slow and even, told her he was well asleep. Quietly slipping towards the door, she stopped as she heard a soft whimper come from the bed.
Turning back to the sleeping dark haired wizard, the expression on his sleeping face broke her heart as his demons had apparently returned full force. I'll stay just a few more minutes, then. Sighing softly, she slipped back into the bed and once more wrapped Harry in her arms, pressing against him. As she lowered her head to the pillow, and closed her eyes, the terrified, pain-filled noises stopped, and Harry relaxed, snuggling closer to her.
That was the last thing Hermione remembered from that day, as sleep claimed her…