Here at the End

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Twelve: The Curse of the Red Thingys

Disclaimer: This isn’t exactly a Harry Potter disclaimer, more like a disclaimer for the bottom of the chapter. I’m going to get all “read-between-the-lineist” and delusional in my A/N this week. It might get ranty. You have been warned.

And oh yeah, I don’t own any of this crap.

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Harry, Ron and Hermione were running headlong through the forest. Harry and Ron had both cast lumos, to keep from tripping over roots, and to try to see the crumpled path that was left by whatever had taken Hagrid. Hermione was in the rear, still sending up hopeful red sparks.

Harry’s ears were straining, trying to hear anything up ahead of them, but with all of the panting that he was doing, and the thrashing around that Ron and Hermione were doing, he couldn’t hear a thing. But nor could he slow down. Because there were now virtually no signs of struggle on the path. Only drag marks and faint, scratchy footprints.

“I don’t hear anybody coming from the castle,” Ron croaked breathlessly. “What if no one sees the sparks?-Whoa, Harry, look out!”

Harry felt Ron grab his arm and skidded to a stop, directly underneath the gaze of a particularly fierce-looking centaur.

“Bane,” Harry panted, backing up a few steps and lowering his wand a bit so that it didn’t directly illuminate the centaur’s face.

Bane didn’t look at all pleased to see him. His enormous black body was practically trembling with rage, and he was stamping, and pawing the ground feverishly with his fore-hoof. Harry couldn’t help but notice the bow and quiver of arrows that he was carrying.

“This forest is forbidden. You are not allowed here.”

Harry felt Ron inch behind him, but Harry squared his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he said to Bane, “but something’s taken Hagrid-”

“That is none of our concern.” The centaur stomped his hoof again, and Harry stomped his own foot, in frustration.

“But it’s Hagrid- he’s always been good to you, respected you- and now something really bad is in your forest….don’t you care?”

Bane crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Hagrid has brought “bad” things into our forest before,” he said lowly, and without much interest.

Harry was losing patience. They couldn’t be stuck here all night arguing with a stubborn centaur. He was just thinking of nice ways to stun him when Hermione stepped up.

“Please Bane,” she said evenly. “We know that we’re not to come here, we’ve known that since we were….foals….” she looked awkwardly at Harry and Ron, “But Hagrid is our friend and he’s in trouble. We couldn’t let him get hurt, even if it meant angering you….we had to show him some loyalty…” Hermione was looking very respectfully at the ground as she spoke.

Harry was watching Bane closely; Hermione was being very smart, he couldn’t try to stop them now, not after she’d emphasized their loyalty…centaurs loved that noble stuff…

“As soon as we find Hagrid, we’ll leave the forest, but please let us pass,” she said, raising her eyes imploringly. “Look at the tracks; he’s already hurt- he might be…even worse…please, we have to hurry!”

Bane blinked at her slowly. And he didn’t look at the scuffle of track marks on the ground. But after a few moments, he uncrossed his arms.

“Find Hagrid and take him out of the forest,” he ordered, and began to walk away. “We will not interfere. But nor will we help you.”

“Er, thank you…” Ron said uncertainly after him, just as his black tail disappeared through the trees.

Harry looked at Hermione gratefully. If he had had to stun Bane, there was no telling what kind of trouble they would’ve had from the centaurs later on. “Hermione that was brilliant.”

“Belatedly,” she grumbled, shaking her head. When Harry and Ron looked at her blankly, she said, “I’m an idiot! We’re all idiots, shooting sparks up into the air like a trail to follow….what if whatever took Hagrid decided to double back on us…”

Ron cast a worried glance back over his shoulder. “Well, we had to get help somehow,” he said.

“I know,” Hermione continued, “But what were we thinking? We’re practically in the Order of the Phoenix, we should know this by now-”

“We should’ve sent a patronus,” Harry said quietly, feeling very stupid himself for not remembering.

“Well, let’s do it now anyway,” Hermione muttered. “Harry, would you send your stag? I’d send my otter, but it might take it forever to gambol up the castle steps.”

Harry cleared his mind and raised his wand, pointing it towards the castle. Then he chose a happy memory (which were surprisingly easier to come by, these days) and thought the words, Expecto Patronum, very forcefully inside his head. There was a jet of silver light, and the stag leapt out, hesitating not a moment before racing off the way they had come.

“Getting pretty good at that non-verbal stuff, aren’t you?” Ron smiled, and then looked down at the tracks.

“Let’s go,” Harry said, and started off again. But he wasn’t running this time, because he had a vague idea of where the tracks were going. And he was getting the distinct feeling that the path of trampled forest that they were following was meant to be followed.

After about a quarter mile, the tracks diverged into the brush, and ended just where Harry had feared they might…in the clearing where he and Hermione had faced the centaurs with Umbridge two years ago. And lying in the middle of the clearing, motionless, was something that appeared to be a great boulder, or a very small hill.

“Hagrid,” Ron and Hermione gasped together, and rushed out to him. Harry’s scar was tingling fiercely, but he had no choice but to follow, though he kept his eyes on the trees around them.

“He’s just unconscious,” Hermione was saying, as she leaned over the half-giant, trying to assess his wounds, which were many. As she leaned, it was very clear that he was still alive, because she was being heaved up and down with the force of his breathing. “We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey; look at all these deep scratches…” Hermione’s lip trembled. “Just like Buckbeak….he’s lost so much blood- why didn’t I bring some of that blood-replenishing potion?! I stockpiled it in his hut; it was right there!”

Harry placed his hand on her shoulder and bent down beside her. “He’ll be all right Hermione,” he said gently. “We just need to figure out how to get him back to the castle.” Harry looked at Hagrid’s hulking form doubtfully. He must weigh as much as a baby elephant…maybe even a juvenile elephant, Harry thought. “Maybe we could all three cast ‘Wingardium Leviosa’,” he suggested, and his heart beat a bit more warmly as Hermione smiled weakly in spite of herself.

And then he felt Ron tap him on the shoulder. Harry brushed him off. “I was just kidding Ron, I know that one Wingardium Leviosa would be plenty-”

“N-No, Harry,” Ron stammered, making Harry and Hermione look up at him. His face had gone pasty white in the moonlight.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“We’ve got bigger problems,” Ron said shrilly, his wand hand shaking. “Bigger, hairier, problems…”

The three of them watched, their eyes wide, as tall figures on spindly legs emerged into the moonlit clearing on all sides, materializing from the mist, stepping slowly, and disjointedly towards them.

Harry and Hermione got to their feet.

“Why do they have to do that,” Hermione cringed, glancing around.

“Why do we keep walking into it,” Harry muttered, and felt Ron tug at his sleeve.

“Is that them?” Ron asked in a frightened whisper. “Are they the red thingys? They move like spiders…”

“Don’t worry, Ron,” Hermione said bracingly. “Harry’s patronus has surely reached the castle by now…Professor McGonagall and the others will be coming-”

“Not soon enough!” growled a voice almost directly behind them, and they whirled around.

“You…you can talk…” Harry stared incredulously at the thing that was crouched on the opposite side of Hagrid, its yellow lamplight eyes mocking them as it dug into Hagrid’s prone form with its foreclaws, drawing fresh blood. He watched in horror as the black lips stretched wide in what he assumed was a smile, revealing every single razor sharp fang that was housed inside the elongated snout.

“What do you want?” Harry said, keeping his voice hard even though he wanted to recoil. The stench of carrion was heavy in the air, the scent of old death, and the creature had moved so fast…Harry shuddered as he thought of it creeping up behind their backs.

“Nothing much…” said the creature, its mouth moving unnaturally as it spoke. “Just perhaps another taste of Weasley…” The quick, yellow eyes shifted to Ron, who was looking at it now with more wonderment than terror.

“I know you…” Ron said, wagging his wand at the thing. “I know your voice; you’re Fenrir Greyback…You bit my brother!” Ron was trembling with rage. Harry placed a hand on his wand arm.

“How is it possible…” Hermione whispered, and Harry was wondering the same thing. The creature hunched before them looked very little like the werewolf he remembered. It had the wolfish features, but it was much larger, and its fur was red, and ragged. Its legs were too elongated, like spindles, and seemed to have one too many joints. The teeth were too large and too many for the snout…He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be bitten by one. It was a disgusting, funhouse mirror of an animal.

“But it’s only the three quarter moon,” Harry said, pointing out the largest inconsistency, aside of course, from the fact that the beast could talk.

“Curious, isn’t it,” Greyback said, beginning to skulk around to their side of Hagrid’s body.

Harry’s scar was itching terribly. He brushed at it absently with the back of his hand as he tried to keep Hermione and Ron behind him, but realized that they were being closed in on all sides; there were at least twenty other werewolves moving towards them on upright legs, each one as unnatural and disjointed as Greyback.

“Why are you following me?” Harry asked angrily, as he wondered when the order was going to show up. “Don’t you remember what happened to Peter Pettigrew?”

But instead of eliciting the apprehension that Harry had hoped, his question only made the werewolf laugh.

“Ah yes, poor Peter….fallen victim to ‘The Power that He Knows Not’,” the werewolf snickered, moving around Hagrid’s body until he was standing directly in front of them. “As if, there was ever anything…that He did not know.”

Harry forced himself to keep his face stony as Greyback continued.

“Did you think he didn’t know what you and that old fool Dumbledore were up to? All of your traipsing around…Digging up the past…Destroying horcruxes….”

“Yes,” Harry snapped, bristling at the mention of Dumbledore’s name. “That’s exactly what we’ve been doing…Four gone so far, and as soon as we find the other two,” and for some reason this made Greyback sneer, “I’m going after Voldemort. And I’ll probably find those traitors Snape and Malfoy on my way.”

“Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy…” Fenrir exclaimed with mock surprise. “Why, they’ve gone to ground; the cowards- everyone knows that the boy didn’t complete his task, and that dear Severus betrayed the dark lord by entering into an unbreakable vow…” He squinted his great wolf eyes and peered into Harry’s face. “In fact, after we’ve disposed of you, we are to track them down and kill them.” The wolf’s face took on an eager expression. “I’m going to rip out that boy’s throat…Severus will be thrown to the pack.” This announcement brought hungry snarls and the snapping of fangs from the others; Ron and Hermione backed in close to Harry.

“And speaking of horcruxes,” Greyback chuckled, looking at Harry furtively. “Don’t you think that it’s odd, your destroying them I mean….when you are one?”

“He’s not!” Hermione cried, coming out from behind Harry. “You’re lying!”

The werewolf shrugged. “I may be…but it seems that it would explain many things…”

“Of course it would,” Harry scoffed angrily. “But you’re a bit slow on the uptake. Remus Lupin thought of that weeks ago.”

“Remus Lupin is a disgrace!” Greyback roared, lunging forward with his teeth and claws bared.

“Stop Fenrir!”

The shout came from another werewolf in the pack, and Harry didn’t recognize the voice. But whoever it was, Fenrir halted his assault mere inches from Harry’s neck, and retreated, panting and snarling. “You’re right,” he muttered, “I must remember orders…we are to bring back his head…”

Harry heard Hermione’s breath catch in her throat. Sweat was trickling down the side of his face. Where was the order? Why hadn’t they come? Had the castle been attacked? Harry looked desperately around them for a way out, but they were completely surrounded, and from the looks of it, Hagrid wasn’t going to be waking up anytime soon. They were on their own.

We have to break them up, he thought. We have to fight our way through the pack and make a run for it…we’ve fought them off before…Discreetly, Harry moved closer to Hermione, and stepped on her toes. Then he twisted his foot sharply to the left, making her wince. He would apologize to her later, but for now he just hoped that she got the message. They had to make a unified break to the left, blasting hexes as they went. And they had to go all at once. There wouldn’t be any time to go back for someone. He felt her move closer to Ron and pass along his instructions.

“GO!” Harry shouted, and they sprang forward and to the left, pointing their wands wildly and sending werewolves flying. Harry could hear Ron yelling his hexes behind him, and vaulted forward as he felt hot, rancid breath on the back of his neck. He heard the fangs snap shut close to his ear. Too close. If one had gotten so close to him, and he was in the lead….

Harry glanced back over his shoulder. Ron and Hermione were both caught, their faces frozen in fear.

“Run Harry!” Hermione shouted, but it was no use. The pack had recovered from their initial shock, and were descending on him again. His heart sank. They hadn’t even come close to escaping; it had been a laughable attempt. As he walked backwards, away from the advancing wolves, he stumbled over the body of one of their fallen, and closed his eyes as he heard the nearest creature lunge for him.

“Stop this instant!”

Everyone froze at the sound of Professor McGonagall’s voice. She sounded as though she had just come across a few rabble-rousing school children rather than a pack of mutated werewolves. But nevertheless, Harry had never been happier to see her. He rolled to his feet and raised his wand. Tonks, Remus and Moody were all in tow, their wands drawn, as well as Professors Flitwick and Sprout.

“Let them go,” Professor Lupin said in a hard voice, but the werewolves made no move to obey.

At the sight of Lupin, Greyback began to move through the pack, closer to where the order stood, his jaws snapping open and shut with rage. “Remus Lupin,” he hissed. “Disgrace….Coward….Half-breed…” With each insult, blood-flecked foam flew from the werewolf’s lips. “You protect that boy….you deny yourself….you are nothing!”

“At least I’m my own man, Greyback,” Remus said evenly. “I’m not scampering about doing someone else’s bidding.”

“Fool! It is my bidding,” Greyback snarled, laughing maniacally. “I am my own master! I am the Dark Lord!”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Remus said simply.

“I’ve found it,” the werewolf corrected him. “I’m faster, smarter, and stronger. And I never have to wear that disgusting human face, ever again.”

Harry was studying Greyback very carefully. There was something he was missing….his scar was positively burning now….what was it….what….

“They’re horcruxes,” he said quietly, and everyone turned to stare at him in shock, including the wolves.

“Impossible,” gasped McGonagall. “He could never split his soul into so many pieces…and what of the law of seven…”

Harry’s heart was racing as he looked at the creatures, particularly at the ones holding Hermione and Ron.

“It can’t be…it can’t be…”

“It is,” Harry said forcefully. “He’s found a way to split his soul indefinitely, and he’s abandoned the law of seven…I don’t know how, and I don’t know why. I guess that Greyback isn’t the only one who’s lost his mind.”

Greyback bared his teeth at Harry approvingly. “Very good boy…I’ve been waiting for ages for you to figure it out.”

Harry glared at him. “You should wish that I hadn’t.” An expression passed briefly across the werewolf’s face that was vaguely reminiscent of a puppy surprised in the rubbish bin. “Don’t you know who I am? Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Harry said darkly. “I’m the chosen one, you idiot.”

Greyback’s lips curled back in rage but Harry barely noticed. His scar was burning white hot. He could do it. Suddenly he knew that he could. He smiled ruefully.

“I….destroy….horcruxes.”

Greyback’s eyes widened, and then he roared in rage. Before Harry could move, he had reached back and seized Ron by the shoulders, and was tearing into his neck.

Ron was jerking away, his robes quickly becoming soaked with blood….he was screaming….

Greyback tossed Ron onto the ground, where he lay motionless. “Bite her!” He bellowed to the werewolf holding Hermione, but she beat him to it, and dug her teeth into the beast’s paw, making it yip and release her. Harry watched with horror was she scuttled across the grass to where Ron lay.

There were werewolves coming towards him. There were hexes flying through the air. There was shouting, and growling and bodies crashing to the earth. But all Harry could see was Ron’s bleeding form, and Hermione leaning over him, defenseless, her wand lying broken on the ground, trying in vain to shield his body with her own.

Destroy them, Harry thought calmly, clearing his mind of everything but that thought. All of them…

Harry closed his eyes. His scar felt ready to explode. Fulminate, he thought clearly, saying the incantation for lightning that Professor Lupin had taught him just weeks ago. For a moment, his world crackled with electricity, and then he heard howls of pain, and sharp cracks in all directions. And then his world seemed to burn.

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When Harry opened his eyes, he could see no one in the clearing. Before him, the ground was charred and blackened in places, and he assumed that those were the marks left by the werewolves as they burned to ash. He reached up and touched his scar gingerly. It was still throbbing, but it no longer ached or tingled.

“Harry!….Harry!”

He turned at the sound of Hermione’s voice. She was still kneeling over Ron, pressing her hands against the wounds in his neck. Professor McGonagall was kneeling over him as well, as was Professor Lupin, and Tonks. Moody and the other professors were trying to rouse Hagrid.

Harry walked over as though in a trance. Ron’s throat was ripped out….he might be dead. And it was his fault…he had brought him here….he had angered Greyback…Harry looked down at his friend in shock. Ron’s skin was deathly white, and he was moaning feebly. He was alive, but just barely.

“He’ll be all right,” Hermione said bravely, even as she trembled. “He’ll be fine…Harry, this wasn’t your fault…”

“He bit him,” Remus said sadly. “Greyback….he bit him.”

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut on tears of remorse.

“Get Madam Pomfrey!” Hermione screamed.

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“Get out of the way!”

“Mrs. Weasley, please, let us tend to him-”

“Ron…Ronald Weasley, you wake up this instant…oh…my baby, my baby…”

The entire hospital wing was filled with the sound of Mrs. Weasley’s moaning, along with the clanging of washbasins and the clinking of instruments. Madam Pomfrey had her hands full, dealing with a room full of panicked family members, worried professors, and several Healers who had been quickly brought in from St. Mungo’s and who were mostly just getting in her way.

Harry and Hermione were standing in the back of the room, trying to peer through the jostling confusion of people. Healers were moving back and forth between Ron’s bed and the collapsed bed that they had placed Hagrid onto.

Hermione kept saying, “He’ll be all right….he’ll be all right,” in a very unsteady tone of voice. Harry couldn’t quite seem to form words at all. He just kept thinking of the attack; the moment that Ron was bitten was replaying in his mind on a constant reel…he searched every minute, every second, for anything that he could have done differently…that he could have done better…

One of the Healers from St. Mungo’s passed by them, covered in Ron’s blood. Harry shut his eyes and Hermione gave a small cry. He felt her arms go around him, and held her tightly. Wake up, Ron, he thought desperately. Please, just wake up…

Madam Pomfrey shoved her way through the horde. “Everyone out!” she screamed. “Everyone out besides the medical staff! WE MUST HAVE ROOM TO DO OUR JOB!”

Arthur Weasley, looking very pale, took his wife gently by the shoulders and tried to nudge her from the room. “Come along Molly,” he said calmly. “They’ll take care of him; we’re just in the way…” Mrs. Weasley leaned against her husband and walked out without a struggle. She had exhausted herself with crying.

“I can’t face them,” Harry said, looking after the Weasleys. Fred and George had arrived, as well as Bill and Fleur. Each of the sons were trying to keep their mother on her feet.

“We’ll just go to the Common Room; they’re so upset, they won’t notice if we just go by,” Hermione said softly, and then turned to where the professors were standing in an awkward and very useless bunch. “Professor McGonagall, would you send for us if anything changes?”

“Of- Of course,” she nodded, her eyes wet with tears behind her spectacles. She had one hand resting on Hagrid’s beaten chest.

“Let’s go,” Hermione said, turning back to Harry.

Harry took her hand gratefully, and they walked out of the hospital wing, and straight down the hall towards the Common Room. Harry winced with guilt as they passed Mrs. Weasley…he felt like such a coward for not going to her….for not saying something….but he had no idea what to say.

When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Luna was just stepping out. She looked at Harry with a terrified expression.

“It’s true, isn’t it!” she demanded, wringing her bottle cap necklace in her hands. “Ronald….he’s really hurt, isn’t he?” Luna was shaking her head sadly. “I know that it is…I’ve been trying to get Ginny to come out, but she won’t…she just stares and stares into the fireplace…” The poor girl looked desperately at Hermione. “I want to stay with her, I do, but….I have to go and see if Ron’s all right!”

“You go, Luna,” Hermione said tenderly. “We’ll stay with Ginny.”

Luna disappeared down the stairs in a flash of robes almost before Hermione had finished speaking.

“I don’t think that Ginny’s going to want much of our company,” Harry said tonelessly.

“She needs someone, Harry,” Hermione whispered, and to their surprise, the Fat Lady swung open without a password.

“My poor little Gryffindor,” she moaned, and Harry and Hermione realized that she was crying. “You’ll tell me if he’s all right, won’t you? Won’t you?”

“Of course,” Hermione said as they stepped inside, pulling the portrait closed after them to muffle the Fat Lady’s wailing.

Ginny was sitting on the sofa before the fire, but she didn’t turn, or acknowledge them in any way. Harry tugged on Hermione’s sleeve.

“We should go…we should leave her alone,” he whispered, but Hermione was inching towards her already, studying her cautiously. Harry followed with dread. Ginny would blame him, surely…she would lash out at him, at both of them…they were the last people on earth that she wanted to see…

“Ginny,” Hermione began gingerly, “Are you all right?”

Harry was standing beside her now. Hermione sat down on the sofa.

“Ginny,” she said again. “Have you been to the hospital wing? Your parents are there….your whole family…”

Ginny didn’t move. As far as Harry could tell, she might as well have been made of stone. Hermione looked very worried. “Maybe you should try,” she said to him.

“I don’t know what to say,” he muttered, but when Hermione put on her most Hermione-ish face, he said, “Ginny,” very softly. “Have you been to see Ron?”

There was a long moment of silence, during which Harry looked at Hermione helplessly, not knowing what else to do, but then Ginny said in a very dead voice,

“Why would he want to see me?”

“Of course he’d want to see you,” Hermione said. “He’d want to know that you’re there…you’re his sister!”

“The last thing I did was yell at him,” Ginny said, and two silent tears fell down her cheeks. Hermione lifted her hand and then hesitated, but finally placed it on top of Ginny’s where they rested in her lap. To Harry’s surprise, Ginny grasped it tightly.

“That doesn’t matter,” Harry said. “He knows….He knows that you…”

Ginny’s eyes welled up again and overflowed. “It does matter,” she said simply. “What if he dies?” And then her face crumpled and she turned her head into Hermione’s shoulder and sobbed in a very loud, very Weasley fashion.

“He won’t, Ginny, he won’t,” Hermione shushed her, and Harry could only hang his head.

Ginny sniffled, and tried to catch her breath. “My Mum and Dad are here?”

Hermione nodded.

“And Bill, and Fred and George?”

Hermione nodded again.

“What about Percy?”

Hermione looked at Harry, who said quickly, “Not yet, but he’ll come, I’m sure of it.”

“I should go, then too,” Ginny said, not sounding too sure. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “They said it was a werewolf…” she looked up at Harry. “Voldemort sent it, didn’t he? He sent it after you…”

“Yes,” Harry croaked. Ginny’s face was blazing as brightly as the fire behind them.

“You’ll kill him for this, won’t you,” she demanded, her eyes like stones. “You’ll kill him…” And then she got up, without waiting for an answer, and walked out through the portrait hole.

For a moment the Common Room was quiet, except for the hissing and crackling of the flames. Harry looked around. Every inch of the school held some memory of Ron; he stared over at the table where they did their homework every night and wondered if they’d ever be there again. He’d gladly do a hundred inches of parchment on potions if only…

“I will kill him,” Harry said suddenly. “I will kill him for this…for this and a million other things…I will…” He looked down at Hermione. She had her face in her hands and was shaking. When he touched her shoulder, she took hold of him and pulled him down beside her on the sofa.

“Hermione,” he whispered, pushing his fingers into her hair and trying to look into her eyes. “Please stop crying; it’ll be all right.”

“D-Don’t, Harry,” she said, shaking her head and taking his hands away.

“Don’t what? What’s the matter?”

“Stop trying to comfort me,” she sobbed. “You don’t have to….” Hermione looked at him, her eyes shining. “He’s your friend…He’s our friend…And he’s…”

Harry listened to her words, and the sound of her hitching breath. Ron, he thought miserably, as his eyes were drawn to the corner table, where they had first played wizard chess so many years ago. He could practically see them there…eleven years old, Ron pointing out to Harry that he couldn’t move his rook that way, and then ordering one of his pawns to smash it to bits. Harry’s heart felt suddenly ready to burst.

“Hermione,” he said, his voice starting to shake. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly, and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

She could’ve been bitten too, Harry thought, gathering her further into his lap. I could’ve lost everything…

Slowly, he pulled back from her, and looked into her eyes. He remembered the roaring order from Greyback (BITE HER) and saw her struggle in the werewolf’s grasp. But in his mind, she didn’t get away…in his mind, he saw the wolf reach her neck…he heard her screams…

“Hermione,” he said in a tortured voice. “I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

She started to tell him that she knew, but then he kissed her, their first real kiss, their lips pulling the breath out of each other. Harry held her closely; he could hear a heart pounding, and wasn’t sure if it was his, or hers, but for a long minute there was nothing else in the world besides that heartbeat, and the feel of her, and the scent of her hair. They didn’t even hear the portrait hole swing open, despite the Fat Lady’s continued laments. Luna had to actually say their names before they parted, and looked at her, rather embarrassed.

“They sent me to find you,” she said somberly.

Harry studied her carefully, the way she refused to meet their eyes, and the silvery tear streaks that marked her face. And he went ice cold all over.

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A/N: Yeah, that’s not where I was going to end the chapter, and I’m sure that you cliffy haters are going to have some words about that, but this chapter exhausted me. Seriously. Tough one. So try not to be too hard on me this week, eh? (hehe, like you ever are! You guys rule.) Next week we’ll find out what happens to Ron, ( I know, some of you don’t care…) and Harry and Hermione will get desperate. More angst filled mushy stuff.

Anyway, I promised a rant! And don’t think that I won’t deliver! So here’s this week’s installment of ‘Digging Deep: the Periodical for the Idealist and Delusional’:

Has anyone else noticed the section on Tonks, (pg. 467-68 U.S. edition), where Harry, Ron and Hermione are conjecturing about her odd behavior? It’s really the only foreshadowing we get of her relationship with Lupin, and it’s done in a very strange way, a very…sub-textual way…which I kind of like. Okay, let’s dig in…Harry notices that she’s acting irrationally and out of character. Sound like anyone we know? He also notices that all signs point to her being in love with Sirius. He’s wrong, of course. Hermione starts to uncover the hidden motivations behind her strange behavior, you know, the less than anvil-obvious motivations, but is interrupted by Ron, who once again says something insensitive about women.

Now I’ve been wondering about that Lupin/Tonks thing for awhile. What the heck is the point of it? Sure, it’s cute, and nice…and so far, completely unnecessary! Except to point out that whoops, everybody thought she was in love with Sirius, only to find out that all along she’s been pining for Lupin.

And could Hermione ignore Ron any more in these books? Geez, how many times do we see the phrase “Hermione said, ignoring Ron,”? Unk. I just can’t take it. And she really doesn’t think that much of him…she’s always way too surprised when he actually comes up with an idea that isn’t completely retarded…how can people who like Ron think that Hermione is a good girl for him? A good influence, yes. A good girl, no. The ideal girl….certainly not.

And one minor note, the hospital scene (U.S. pg. 613), Ron, Hermione, Luna, Tonks and Lupin are gathered around a bed. Hermione runs to Harry. That leaves Ron and Luna, and Tonks and Lupin. Curious….very curious….

Well, actually, that’s digging really deep. But the thing is, we Harry/Hermione shippers are intuitive readers…we feel things, we see behind things….we don’t need to be whacked upside the head with neon signs and heavy objects…in fact, we probably don’t even like it!

But enough ranting, I’ll probably get in trouble for this….but I warned you in the beginning, and this story is an homage to theorists…so I should be able to throw my delusional two cents in!