Harry Potter and the Isle of Mists
Disclaimer: I can only hope to attain the creative brilliance of J. K Rowling.
AN: Please review. This is my first Harry Potter fanfic, so be kind.
AN2: Argh! You people worrying about Hedwig! ;) If the truth must be known, I completely forgot about her there on Hermione's lawn. Hopefully, this chapter will help!
Chapter Four: You Take the High Road, and I'll Take the Low Road
In the hallway outside the girls' dormitories, Harry and Ron were stopped short by the wards keeping boys out of the girls' rooms. They could hear Ginny yelling.
"Hermione! Hermione, what's wrong?"
Harry was nearly hysterical. He was swearing and speaking almost incoherently, trying in vain to get past the wards. Ron watched him curiously for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought.
"Ginny!" Ron finally yelled, taking matters into his own hands. "Ginny, unlock the wards. Let us in." Ginny padded out into the hall, in her pajamas, and twirled her wand in their direction, muttering a few unintelligible words under her breath. Something flickered around the edges of the corridor.
"You can really do that?" Ron was fascinated.
"Only for an emergency. It notifies Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore," Ginny admitted.
Harry had torn past both of them, and careened into Hermione's room. She was sitting up in bed, her chest heaving, her eyes wild and unfocused. He sat on the edge of her bed, and cradled her head on his shoulder.
Hermione, are you okay? It was just a dream. He felt Hermione begin to draw herself together, as her mind tried to focus on his mind.
It was not just a dream, she observed astutely. It was real. It was like I was there. He was there. He felt a shiver of fear in his mind.
Who was there? Harry asked, even though he knew the answer.
V-V - V She couldn't even say it. Her teeth clattered together. Harry felt despair tug at him, and whether it was hers or his, he didn't know. This was his fault. He was going to drag her down into all his nightmares and visions, and Voldemort was going to find out about her, and then… the rest did not bear thinking about.
You saw it too? Hermione asked, obviously eavesdropping on his musings.
I always do, Harry answered simply. Hermione reached up to touch the side of his face, her brow crinkling in compassion.
These are the nightmares you have? Oh God, Harry, how do you function?
With help from people like you. Hermione smiled and blushed a little.
Ron and Ginny watched from the doorway, and the other two were completely oblivious to their presence.
"What in bloody hell are they doing?" Ron muttered to his sister, from the side of his mouth.
"I don't know…" Ginny murmured, appearing a little dazed. Hermione and Harry were in each other's arms, and appeared to be reassuring each other somehow, but they weren't speaking at all. "Hermione had a nightmare."
"So did Harry," Ron noted. "I had just barely snapped him out of it, when we heard Hermione screaming."
"That's odd. They both had a nightmare at the exact same time?"
"You should have seen Harry too. He was acting like he was going mad…trying to get in here, when he heard Hermione."
"Maybe he thought someone was in here with us," Ginny wondered.
"I don't think so," Ron said seriously. "I got the impression that he knew exactly why Hermione was screaming."
"How would he possibly know that?"
"I don't know," Ron squinted at the couple thoughtfully. Harry had leaned a little away from Hermione now, and was looking seriously into her eyes. Ron felt a twinge of discomfort creep up his spine, but was too occupied with the mystery before him to properly identify it. "D'you think that they're … together?"
"Surely one of them would have told-" Ginny was interrupted by the arrival of the aforementioned professors. Minerva McGonagall managed to look as regal as ever, even in a sleeping attire and a headscarf. Professor Dumbledore was still in regular robes, as usual, and Ron wondered vaguely if he slept at all.
"What's going on in here?" McGonagall asked, her eyes flashing. "You four may be the only students here right now, but this is highly irregular."
"Harry and I woke up to hear someone screaming in the girls' room. Hermione had a nightmare. Ginny let us in to see if we could help." Ron told the two teachers. McGonagall looked slightly mollified.
Harry and Hermione had stood to their feet when the adults came in. "Professors, I can explain," Harry started to say. Hermione deferred to Harry, in a most uncharacteristic way, watching him with large brown eyes that still held a hint of remembered fear. Her hair was stuck to her neck and forehead in damp ringlets.
"If you two are quite recovered from your fright," Dumbledore interrupted calmly, "perhaps you would like to accompany me to my office, and tell me what precisely occurred." Hermione and Harry exchanged glances.
Was it just me or was he emphasizing the word "precisely"? They wondered at the same time. They trooped out the door wordlessly, and Hermione managed a smile, small and tight-lipped, at Ginny.
"There now," McGonagall said, in a matter-of-fact voice. "Everyone's all right. Harry and Hermione will be back shortly. You two go on back to bed."
Ron and Ginny did as their Head of House suggested, albeit a little sulkily. Both of them had a sneaking suspicion that they were being deliberately kept out of the loop about something that was important.
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
They were back in Dumbledore's office for the second time in twenty-four hours, this time in the nightclothes. Hermione had collected herself enough by this time to feel some mortification.
"Now then," Dumbledore said, as if it weren't the middle of the night. He settled comfortably in his chair, and proffered the jar of lemon drops. Hermione shook her head, but Harry took one and tucked it in the corner of his cheek. They each sat in the chairs they had been in earlier that day. When Dumbledore continued to stare fixedly between them, looking slightly amused, they finally followed his gaze. They were holding hands.
When did that happen? They dropped each other's hand, as if they were red-hot. Dumbledore was clearly waiting for one of them to begin. He gazed at them in turn, although he tended to still avoid looking directly at Harry. Harry felt a flare of the old distrust return, almost against his will, and guilt immediately followed. He hadn't felt that way since Umbridge had been deposed.
Harry? Hermione said in disbelief. Professor Dumbledore would never hurt you, you know that.
He's afraid that Voldemort might possess me, and that I would endanger the Order, Harry said dully. Besides, now who's snooping?
Well, you're thinking it loud enough for anyone to pick up on, Hermione said, defensively. Harry did not point out the ridiculousness of her statement. Are we going to tell him? she asked.
Harry instinctively wanted to say no. He was tired of being a celebrity and a curiosity. This new development, whatever its origin, was just another reason to have teachers look at him funny. He was weary of it, and wished, not for the first time, that he was just Harry Potter, not the Boy-Who-Lived. Then he remembered Hermione, shaking and wild-eyed, exposed to the mind of Voldemort, and his resolve strengthened.
We'll tell him.
You don't have to do this because of me, she protested.
He only said, Yes, I do.
"Professor, something else happened when I went to visit Hermione," Harry began. "I didn't have a premonition, not really. I felt her panic; it made me start panicking. When I got to her house, we found out we can - we can read each other's minds."
"We can talk to each other without speaking," Hermione added. "And feel each other's emotions."
"I had another dream about Voldemort, saw him talking Lucius Malfoy," Harry chimed in. "Hermione had the same dream at the same time. That's what woke us both up, upset."
Dumbledore had been sitting quietly, listening to them, but his eyes were serious and a little troubled.
"Who did this to us?" Harry asked. "Was it the same person that left the Fantasma?"
"It could be," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "However, I am not convinced that anyone `did' anything to you."
"How is that even possible? Suddenly I could just read Hermione's mind?" Harry sounded irritated.
"It may have to do with your ability to speak Parseltongue."
"What - that -" Harry sputtered.
"Tom Riddle was a telepath," Hermione said calmly. Both men stared at her for a moment, Dumbledore raising his eyebrows in surprise.
"You are quite right, Miss Granger," he said. "Tom Riddle had a very strong mind, and was an extremely skilled Legilimens. It's one reason he was able to impress his personality upon the diary and control Miss Weasley. Now, as Lord Voldemort, it's also one of the reasons he can exact so much control over his Death Eaters."
"So, it was transferred to me… along with the Parseltongue… the day my parents were killed," Harry said slowly.
"It is quite possible," Dumbledore confirmed. "It was apparent that you were an extraordinarily strong wizard the day you thwarted Voldemort. It is also possible that you already had an innate ability toward Legilimency, and your clash with Voldemort merely strengthened that talent."
"Why now? I never knew about it before. Why Hermione? Why not everybody?"
"The mind is a complex and fragile thing. You probably could read other minds, if you concentrated. You would find it extremely fatiguing, however."
"Hermione and I can talk to each other. We've held entire conversations in our heads. I haven't noticed any fatigue," Harry countered.
"Miss Granger is not just anybody, as I assume you've noticed," Dumbledore said with a wry smile. Hermione blushed. "Your mind has chosen to link with Miss Granger's. These kinds of mental links are very rare, but generally occur with someone that you're … attached to," he finished delicately. Hermione felt her cheeks flame hotter, as Harry's embarrassment magnified her own.
"Is it permanent?" Harry blurted, before he could stop himself.
"I believe that bonds have been broken before, but it would take great skill in both Legilimency and Occlumency for that to occur. It isn't advisable for outside parties to break the bond, it could break your minds in the process. You would have to learn the art yourselves."
"And what about Voldemort…does he know about Hermione?" Hermione felt her body shiver with fear, and realized with surprise that it was Harry's fear washing over her. He was afraid for her.
"Tell me exactly what occurred in your dream," Dumbledore instructed. Harry related to him the details of the dream, including the feeling of being pushed back and the pain in his scar. Dumbledore frowned thoughtfully, and sat silently for quite some time.
"Voldemort was obviously aware of your presence. Of course, that would be no surprise to him… he knows you can see into his thoughts from time to time, as he can in yours. He may not have been aware of Miss Granger's presence, but at the same time, it may be something he realizes later, and returns to more thoroughly examine."
"I've put her in danger, then?"
"I put myself in danger by being your friend, Harry," Hermione interjected. "And I wouldn't change it for the world."
Dumbledore appeared pleased by Hermione's admission.
"I would like for you to resume your Occlumency lessons from Snape. There is now an additional reason to keep Voldemort away from your mind," Dumbledore said in a placid tone that somehow brooked no argument. Harry wanted to protest, but knew it would be futile. "Miss Granger will, of course, join you," the Headmaster added.
Hermione and Harry looked at each other in a kind of surprised delight.
"In addition to reducing the danger that this kind of access to your minds presents to the Order, Occlumency lessons will also help you both control this ability. You would find it tiring, for instance, to be constantly sensing Miss Granger's thoughts while she is in Arithmancy and you are in Divination."
The two friends exchanged glances. They had not thought of this.
"There are also, perhaps, private thoughts that you both wish to keep precisely that…private?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Their glances bounced off each other and shied away.
"Yes, sir," they murmured together.
"Very well, Professor Snape is still on holiday, but I shall owl him to return to Hogwarts as soon as he can. He can begin giving you both lessons in Occlumency when he arrives."
Harry was simultaneously struck by the idea of Snape away on holiday, perhaps in great flowered swim trunks (Hermione shot him a disapproving look), and by how thrilled Snape would probably be to not only have his holiday cut short to come tutor the Boy-Who-Lived, but his know-it-all best friend as well.
He's going to make us sorry, just you wait, Harry predicted darkly. And we can't even have fun with him, because he'll know we can read each other's minds.
Harry, he's a professor, Hermione said in a scandalized tone.
He's Snape, Harry countered irritably. To Dumbledore, he said,
"Will Sn - Professor Snape even agree to teach me again?"
"Severus knows that putting aside his personal feelings for the good of the Order is of utmost importance," Dumbledore said, with an air of finality.
Great! Harry said sarcastically. We're toast.
Sshhh, Hermione hissed. Dumbledore was speaking, something about their long day, and how breakfast would be sent up to the Gryffindor common room when they were ready for it. He ushered them toward the door, adding gravely,
"I don't think I need to remind you the importance of keeping this… quiet."
"Ron?" Harry asked quickly.
"As few people as possible. I defer to your judgment." Dumbledore left it at that. "Get some sleep."
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
The next morning found Hermione and Harry waking at nearly the same time, and staggering blearily down to the common room, where Ron was already tucking in to the appetizing spread.
"I'n't this great?" Ron enthused, with his mouth full of eggs. "We shou' eat up here alla' time."
"Ron, that is disgusting," Ginny noted, rolling her eyes. Harry and Hermione both smiled, but seemed somewhat subdued.
"You two look like hell," Ron noted tactfully, swallowing his food.
"Thanks Ron," Harry said, with a half-smile, scrubbing one hand over his face and sitting down at the breakfast table. He thought about how different this was from eating in the Great Hall…it seemed homier, more intimate, no bloody owls swooping over your head while you ate…owls….bloody Hell!!
I've left Hedwig in a bag at your house, Harry said in a bewildered fashion to Hermione.
No, you didn't, Hermione answered placidly, serving herself some fruit. Dumbledore sent her to Hogwart's before he came inside at my house …she's in the Owlery. Harry stared at her, agape. Your mouth's hanging open, she said, and he closed it with a snap.
How d'you know? He asked.
Like I knew the password, Harry, honestly! I listen! Harry frowned at her, and would have pursued this particular line of argument, but Ron made a noise, as if he were going to speak again, as soon as he had swallowed.
"So what happened last night, mate?" Ron asked, with all the subtlety of a freight train.
"Weird nightmares," Hermione said quickly. "Dumbledore said it might be an aftereffect of the Fantasma we saw yesterday."
You clever little liar, Harry said with admiration. She slanted a sideways look at him, and quickly asked Ginny for the pumpkin juice.
"So, now wha' happens?" Ron was stuffing his face again. Ginny made an apologetic face, and passed Hermione the pitcher.
"Well, Dumbledore's making me start taking Occlumency with Snape again," Harry groused. "And Hermione too, since she had a nightmare as well."
Hermione made a protesting noise in his mind.
It's going to come out eventually that you're taking Occlumency with me, Harry defended. Nobody's going to believe that you're taking Remedial Potions.
"Remind me never to let on to you two when I've had a bad dream," Ron replied. "Extra classes with Snape? That's enough to keep me awake at night," he mock shuddered.
"Yeah, lucky me," Hermione chirped, with a laugh, rolling her eyes.
"Oy, `arry?" Ron said, moments later, swallowing a gargantuan amount of food. He then spoke more clearly. "Want to hit the quidditch pitch for a bit?"
"We've three Gryffindor team members. It seems a shame to waste the chance," Ginny piped up, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Ron looked less than thrilled to have his "kid" sister tagging along, but did not protest.
"Sounds great!" Harry said, with real pleasure, filling his mouth with an entire sausage.
"Hermione, you come too," Ron said, with a generous air. "You can officiate."
Oh, hooray! Hermione's voice in Harry's head was dripping with sarcasm.
Harry ate another sausage.
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
They spent a quite enjoyable forenoon running quidditch plays. Part of the time, Ron practiced scoring, with Ginny as the keeper. During that time, Harry practiced his nosedives, screeching halts, and hairpin turns, all very important in the maneuvering of a seeker.
Hermione sat on the bleachers and read a thick book she'd brought from the library.
What's that you're reading? Harry asked casually, as he zipped by her astride his broomstick.
It's called Legilimency and Mind Control, Hermione said absently, not really listening.
That sounds like a restricted book, he observed.
It is, she replied, but Professor Dumbledore let me take it out.
Harry practiced a couple of lazy loop-de-loops that encompassed the entire pitch. He gripped the broomstick with his knees, and waved at her, upside down, with both hands.
She looked at him blandly for a moment, and returned to her book.
So, y'found anything useful? He asked a bit later.
Not yet. There have got to be other instances of this problem though. It can't be that rare.
Parseltongue is pretty rare, he pointed out.
And there are books on it, she responded like quicksilver.
Oh.
Harry decided to amuse himself by trying a couple of diving corkscrews. He had done a couple, ending with an abrupt halt on the surface of the pitch, when Hermione said suddenly,
Stop that, you're making me dizzy.
Dizzy?
Yes, dizzy! Her voice was impatient, and she sounded a little worried.
Okay, I'll stop. Harry acquiesced, and stopped the plunging spiral, coasting gently in to land near the bleachers where she sat.
Harry!
What? he asked defensively. "I stopped." He spoke this out loud, as he came up beside her.
"I'm having physical symptoms in reaction to something you are doing!" She said in a hushed and intent tone. "That hasn't happened before."
"Do you think we should go tell Dumbledore?" Harry asked, his brow crinkling with concern. Hermione nodded, tight-lipped.
"We probably should."
They waved a farewell at Ron and Ginny, who were still practicing scoring and blocking maneuvers. Ron shouted something at them, but it was lost on the wind. They began to walk back up to the castle, Harry carrying his broom slung across his shoulder.
They had entered the castle through a side door, and were approaching the corridor with the gargoyle, when they heard a slippery and familiar voice.
"I must inform the Headmaster that I've arrived. You may go on down to the dungeons," it said.
Snape's back, Harry thought with some disappointment.
Who was he talking to? Hermione wondered. Even as he heard her in his head, they rounded the corner, and came face to face with the last person they wanted to see.
"Well, if it isn't Potty and his Mudblood!" Draco Malfoy said, with a leering smile.
TBC
Please please please review!
-->