Here at the End

Here at the End

By

Ahn Na Blue

Rated PG-13

Chapter Nine: Hermione’s OTHER Secret

Disclaimer: It’s four thirty in the a.m, and I am not JK Rowling.

So we left off last time with Hermione’s love potion at her lips….

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“Expelliarmus!”

The clear tumbler flew from Hermione’s hand and dashed against the floor, shattering into pieces. Harry wasted no time in getting to her; she was kneeling over the spilled potion and fluttering her hands around it, shaking her head.

“Hermione, get away from it,” Harry ordered, taking her by the arm. “Get away from it!” The red liquid was evaporating quickly, fizzing up bubbles in the shape of little jagged hearts, and as each one popped and disappeared, it made a noise that sounded like Ron’s laughter, and yet not like Ron’s laughter at all. It sounded malicious, and tricky. Harry couldn’t believe that only moments before he had been entranced by the beauty of it.

“Oh,” Hermione was moaning regretfully, “That took hours to make! Now look at it! It’s useless, and I’m out of powdered unicorn horn…I can’t just go back to Professor Oddburg again-”

Harry looked at her as though she’d gone mad. How could she consider making it again? “Hermione, what were you doing?!”

Her mouth dropped open and she blinked at him as if she were just realizing that he was there. “I-” she stammered, brushing off her robes and quickly pointing her wand down at the mess, which promptly disappeared. “Well it was a potion, obviously-”

“And you were just going to drink it?”

“No, I-” She was looking away from him, her nose slightly in the air, trying to act as though nothing were amiss. “It was- just an experiment, really-”

“That was a love potion,” Harry said darkly. “I saw the hearts. And I saw what you put into it.”

Hermione was silent, wringing her hands and staring at the floor like a little girl who had been caught in the cookie jar.

“It was a potion to make someone fall in love with Ron,” Harry said. “And you were going to drink it…Why Hermione?”

She just stood there, wearing a slight frown.

“Say something!” Harry exploded at her.

“It’s none of your business!” she shouted, her eyes shimmering.

“You’re my business!” Harry shouted back, and then for some reason that Harry couldn’t fathom, Hermione began to cry.

“No I’m not.” Hermione put her hands to her face. “Oh Harry,” she groaned weakly. “Why did you have to break that tumbler? If you’d have just let me drink it, everything would be fine…everything would work out perfectly…”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Harry said gently. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Ron-”

Hermione gave a soft, brittle laugh. “What’s going on? Nothing’s going on. Nothing’s changed…”

“Of course it has; he kissed you,” Harry said, forcing the words out of his mouth.

Hermione looked at him levelly. “Yes. He kissed me. That one time and never again since…and even that one time…there was nothing, nothing like there’s supposed to be- Can you imagine what he would say if he knew?”

Considering how much time he’s been spending with Luna, I don’t think he’d say much at all, Harry thought, but said instead, “But I thought- all this time- you and Ron…You canaried him when he snogged Lavender!”

“Well he was being a prat!” Hermione fumed. “I asked him to go to that Christmas party, and he said yes, and then made out with Lavender!”

“But-” Harry said, confused. “You fight constantly…”

“And that is supposed to mean we’re crazy about each other?”

“Well, you were really worried about him after he got poisoned.”

“We were all worried about him, Harry,” Hermione said, her face falling. “I can’t believe you notice all of that, yet you don’t notice-…I’m so tired of this- I just wanted to stop feeling this way-” She fell silent. She looked exhausted, too exhausted to even be embarrassed anymore.

“I don’t notice what?” Harry asked curiously. He took a step forward and she stepped back.

“Look, I won’t do this again,” she said, a tear slipping out of the corner of her eye. “But I don’t want to talk about it, all right?” She turned to go.

“Hermione-” Harry started.

“Let it go, Harry,” she sniffed.

“But can’t you-”

“No!” she shrieked, and ran from the room.

“Hermione wait!” Harry shouted, starting to run after her. And then he heard her scream “Oppugno!” and the in the next minute he was assailed by a flock of little yellow birds, who beat their wings very sincerely against his face, and then flew away after Hermione.

Harry stood in the middle of the Potions classroom, slightly breathless. “She canaried me,” he said, shocked. There was one little yellow bird still sitting on his shoulder. Harry looked at it, awestruck. “Well, she’s not getting away THAT easily!”

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When Harry got outside he tossed the canary into the air and watched it fly away. He hadn’t found Hermione anywhere inside the castle, and nobody had seemed to have seen where she went.

But he wouldn’t give up; he wanted answers, he wanted to know what was making her act so irrationally. And he also wanted to confront her about her recent use of birds.

As Harry walked towards the pumpkin patch, he heard the very distinct sound of Hermione crying. His feet hesitated just a moment under him and then propelled him forward; she sounded so upset…he had to tell her that he hadn’t really minded about the bird attack…

She was sitting with her back to him, leaning against a pumpkin, and Buckbeak was lying before her with his wings tucked, nipping at her skirts. Harry ducked down quickly behind a nearby tree stump.

“Oh Buckbeak, stop that now,” she said through her sobs, and Harry didn’t quite know why he had felt he should hide, after all, hadn’t he come to talk to her?

“I feel so stupid…and there’s no one but you to listen to me…a hippogriff. But you’re just as good as anyone really, aren’t you?” Hermione was saying fondly. Harry peered out from behind his stump and watched her ruffling Buckbeak’s feathers.

I really shouldn’t be listening to this, Harry thought, and began to creep away.

“Harry,” Hermione said, and he froze on the spot. He was about to say something, to come up with some clever reason as to why he was hidden behind a tree stump, when she said his name again, and said it in such a pained way that he knew she had no idea he was there.

“I was so sure,” she said to the hippogriff, “I was so sure that if I waited, if I was patient…if I stood by him and helped him and….” she sniffled. “I thought that one day, he’d just turn around and see me, really see me, right there where I’ve always been…”

Harry was confused. What was she talking about? Who was she talking about? If she wanted to be with Ron this badly- his brow furrowed. Maybe he had misunderstood the potion.

“But instead he turns and sees Ginny-”

Ginny?! Harry felt his heart begin to pound against his ribs. She was talking about him! He tried very hard not to blink and also not to breathe, as his breathing interfered with how much he could hear.

“Beautiful Ginny Weasley,” Hermione said, and started to cry. Buckbeak nudged her roughly with his head, and she patted him. “I know,” she said, her voice strained, and then she cleared her throat and fluttered her lashes. “Oh look at me, I’m Ginny Weasley, I’m so pretty, with my red hair that I’m constantly flipping about everywhere, of course I’m the perfect girl for The Great Harry Potter! I’ve been possessed by Voldemort! I can make fun of people in really funny ways! I’m good at Quidditch! And look how big I can make your bogies! See how they fly around and attack your face like bats? Big bogey bats?” Hermione struck her fist against the dirt. “Well what if someone doesn’t HAVE any bogies? Does she ever think about that?”

Buckbeak seemed to be nodding in agreement, bobbing his head and blinking slowly.

“Oh,” Hermione said sadly, “I shouldn’t say that…she’s my friend….or at least she was until she turned into such a horribly bad influence on Harry!” She laughed a laugh without humor. “And to think that I encouraged them to be together…I gave her advice on how to get him to notice her! What am I, some kind of idiot?” She shook her head and put her face in her hands. “Buckbeak, what am I going to do?”

And hidden behind his stump, just a few pumpkins away, Harry was wondering the very same thing.

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Hermione loves me, Harry thought dizzily. Hermione is in love with me!

Those were the only thoughts that passed through his head, all through dinner in the great hall; Ginny must have been very frustrated with him, as he only answered her questions with vague, ‘mm hmms’ and didn’t ask her any questions at all.

They were also the only thoughts in his head as he walked to the library, and the only thoughts in his head when he finally saw Hermione, who seemed completely normal, after exchanging one awkward smile with him. But the tone of the thoughts, which had been jubilant, if a little confused, changed, when he saw Ron.

“There you are,” Ron said as he returned to the table with another book. “Hermione, Harry was looking for you earlier, did he find you?”

Hermione stared very hard at her open book. “Erm, yes, he found me,” she muttered.

“Yes, I found her,” Harry added redundantly, and looked away when Hermione glanced at him.

“Ron,” said Ginny from beside Harry, “What on earth is that thing on your shoulder?”

Attached to Ron’s shoulder appeared to be some kind of pin, arranged out of bottle caps and odd, multicolored feathers.

“Luna made it,” Ron said, and didn’t sound embarrassed at all. “Look what it does-” he poked it with his finger, and the bottle cap creation shook and hissed, and then spit out some more feathers. “Isn’t it weird?” he grinned. “Luna says it’s a miniature model of a gwimbly woll. The bottle caps are supposed to be its shells.”

“Well,” Ginny said, nodding skeptically but smiling too, “that’s nice…”

Just at that moment, Luna walked behind them humming a tune that sounded very much like “Weasley is Our King.” Harry looked over at Hermione, but she didn’t appear to be paying attention.

He could feel the weight of Dobby’s diary in his pocket, but the library was so crowded; he couldn’t possibly show it to her now. Harry sighed and began paging through his book, The Art of Attacks, by Finola VanderGaard. A lot of the things in it he already knew: going on the offensive with your Patronus, stinging hexes, Stupefy, Impedimenta, and of course, a very brief chapter on the Unforgivables. He was about to return the book to its shelf when he flipped to a page that read, “Lightning in a Bottle, how to become a master of the forces of nature.”

Harry sat up straighter and read a few paragraphs. It was very interesting, how to carry lighting in a bottle and release it at will, though he didn’t very much fancy lugging around a bottle all the time….But maybe he could modify the spell…

“Harry, don’t you have a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Lupin?”

“Right,” Harry said, looking up at the clock. “Thanks for reminding me, Ginny.” He stood, and after a moment’s consideration, tucked The Art of Attacks under his arm. Ginny stood as well, and moved closer to kiss him goodbye. Harry met Hermione’s eyes for a split second, and then coughed into his hand and turned his back to Ginny, stacking the books around him. “Hermione, would you put these back on the shelves for me?” he asked quickly, but she didn’t say anything. She was staring at him with a shocked and thoughtful expression.

Harry walked away quickly. He didn’t look back at Ginny at all. He didn’t want to see the blazingly offended look on her face.

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“You’re late, Harry.”

“I’m sorry Professor,” Harry said as he closed the door behind him. Professor Lupin was standing near the desk at the center of the room. All of the tables had been pushed out, leaving a large, empty practicing area, in which Harry could run away from all of Lupin’s hexes.

“I was in the library-”

“Don’t worry,” Professor Lupin waved his hand. “It’s only eight o clock. Now. Are you ready to practice evasion?”

Harry pulled the copy of Finola VanderGaard’s The Art of Attacks out from underneath his arm. “Actually Professor, I was hoping you might be able to help me with something.”

Professor Lupin took the book from Harry and looked it over carefully, then sighed. “I suppose that you’re right,” he said, rather sadly. “Of course. We should be focusing on your attacks. I can’t imagine, Harry, what this has done to you, these past weeks…” He leafed through the open book without really reading it.

“What are you talking about Professor?” Harry asked. “I just wanted you to help me modify a spell- the Lightning in a Bottle charm, I wanted to….get it out of the bottle,” he finished lamely, as Lupin stared at him with his mouth agape.

“Yes!” Lupin exclaimed, trying to recover. “I apologize, Harry, I thought that you must have heard…of course we can work on the Lightning in a Bottle charm…”

“Oh,” said Harry, understanding. “You were talking about me being a horcrux. I did hear about it. I heard you and Tonks talking with Headmistress McGonagall.”

Professor Lupin sank down on the desk, and Harry thought he heard him curse himself under his breath. “Stupid,” he muttered. “Stupid and careless.”

“It’s all right, Professor,” he said. “I’d have found out one way or another. And I still want to practice evasion tonight; I actually have a new spell to show you.”

“That’s good, Harry, that’s very good,” Lupin was saying, rubbing his temples with the fingers of one hand.

Harry watched him quietly. He looked terrible. His skin was drooping and gray, and his eyes were completely bloodshot. He couldn’t even stand up straight, and they were still weeks away from the next full moon.

“I really am a horcrux, aren’t I?”

“No!-I…don’t know. We don’t know. I…hope not, Harry, but it would explain so many things…” Harry noticed that Remus appeared to be looking at his lightning bolt scar.

“If I am,” Harry swallowed, “Then I have to die-”

“No,” Remus said, but to Harry it sounded more like denial than an actual answer. “There may be ways- to avoid it-” he paused and breathed in deeply. “The longer that I’m alive…I believe that destiny is what you make it. Prophecies are empty…until you choose to fill them.”

“You sound like Dumbledore,” Harry said, and smiled, and realized that it was the first time he had been able to smile about the Headmaster since the funeral. “Can you help me with that spell?”

Lupin looked down at the open page, grateful for the change of subject. “It seems reasonably simple,” he said, brightening. “You see here, the second portion of the incantation is actually what contains the electricity in the bottle…and you should be able to use the same motion with your wand to call up the lightning…”

Harry leaned in over the book with him, and they spent the better part of two hours perfecting Harry’s new spell, leaving several burnt black streaks on the classroom walls in the process.

As they walked out together, their hair singed and their robes full of holes (even though Harry had taught Lupin Hermione’s Lateo, they were still unable to dodge all of the bolts), Professor Lupin placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Your parents would be so proud of you Harry,” he said, his face somber, and more than a little proud himself. “You’re ready.”

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When Harry finally made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room, it was nearly eleven, and he expected it to be deserted. He didn’t expect to see the bushy haired silhouette that was perched on the sofa.

“Hermione? What are you doing up?”

“I was waiting for you,” she said in a very Hermione-ish voice, and he knew that she had already rehearsed whatever she was going to say. “I wanted to apologize, for earlier. I was acting foolishly. I don’t need a potion for Ron, he’s-” she hit a snag in her speech and closed her eyes. “He’s-”

“It’s all right,” Harry said. He felt very awkward knowing what he knew, that she loved him, and it was somehow even more awkward that she didn’t know that he knew. It was all very confusing.

“It’s not all right,” she said, and continued with her speech. But Harry stopped listening. He just watched her, her animated movements, the way that her brows knit together when she was embarrassed. How could I not have known? He wondered. Well, she’s done a good job of hiding it, anyway….But had she? He thought back over all of their years together. She had always been by his side, breaking the rules for him, even yelling at him when he needed it…and Ron had said that she nearly went spare over that summer, not seeing him. And he could picture her now, in the Quidditch stands, clapping so loudly that her hands must’ve ached….long before Ron had ever played.

Ginny really had no business telling her she doesn’t understand Quidditch, Harry thought. After all, she’s the one who got me all of those Quidditch books…

“-me Harry?”

Harry’s eyes snapped back into focus. “What?”

Hermione frowned. “I said, do you forgive me, Harry?”

I guess I should have been listening, Harry thought as he nodded dumbly. “And I have something for you,” he said, reaching into his robes. “I got the diary from Dobby.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and she reached for it greedily, turning it in her hands and scrutinizing the flaking black ink still on the cover. “Oh Harry! I wonder if it’ll work!”

“I hope so, because I paid ten galleons for it,” Harry smiled.

Hermione beamed at him. “Well, there’s only one way to find out. Do you want to-”

“What’re you to up to down here?”

Harry looked up to see Ron standing on the stairs. He took an inadvertent step back from Hermione, and saw Ron narrow his eyes.

“I just got back from my lesson,” Harry said, and tried to make his voice light.

“Well, what’s that you’ve got,” Ron said suspiciously, gesturing to the diary in Hermione’s hands.

Hermione gave Harry a look that said, I suppose we ought to tell him, and then turned to Ron. “I’ve been working on a talisman for Harry. To help him locate all of the remaining horcruxes. This is the final piece. Or at least I hope it’s the final piece,” she said, looking down at the demolished book. “We were just going to try it out.”

“Do you want to come?” Harry asked, and Ron gave him a resentful look.

“Of course I want to come. I’m in this too, aren’t I?” And then, as if to make a point, he brushed past Harry and guided a bewildered Hermione through the portrait hole.

Harry followed behind, hoping that Ron’s foul mood was just a side effect of being woken late at night.

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On the way to the empty Charms classroom, Ron stayed close beside Hermione, asking her questions about her talisman, which she readily answered. It wasn’t often that Ron got so interested about something academic that she was doing.

Harry shuffled his feet behind them and glared into the back of Ron’s head. Don’t act this way, he thought angrily, when I and just about everyone else can see that you’re crazy about Luna.

But Ron had always been possessive where Hermione was concerned. And he had always been worried that he would be somehow left out. And, Harry realized, he doesn’t know how Hermione really feels. Or how I really feel, for that matter.

Those thoughts calmed him down a bit, and by the time they reached the classroom, which Hermione unlocked with a silent password, he felt almost amiable towards Ron, and Ron it seemed, was now fully awake and amiable towards Harry.

“Ginny’s right pissed at you, you know,” Ron grinned. “She was practically rattling the table legs in rage after you left the library tonight.”

Harry glanced at Hermione, who was peering into the cauldron, and trying not to pay any attention to what they were saying.

“I don’t think-” Harry started, and then swallowed hard. What would Ron say if he told him that he wasn’t going to date Ginny anymore? He was such a protective brother…But I suppose it’s nothing to what he’s going to say when I tell him I think I’m falling for Hermione, Harry thought, and looked at her as she pondered the diary, nibbling her lower lip in concentration. Harry broke out in a sweat. Had he really just thought that? Was he falling for Hermione? There was a strange, dizzy feeling in his chest, like his heart was doing back-flips. But it couldn’t be- he was probably just feeling threatened by her relationship with Ron….except that he knew now that there was no relationship with Ron-

“What don’t you think?”

Harry jumped, having forgotten that Ron was standing right beside him. “I-” he said, and steeled himself. “I don’t think I’m going to be dating Ginny anymore.” He looked at Ron carefully. The red from his hair seemed to be traveling all the way down his face, and right into the collar of his pajamas. Harry winced inwardly as the seconds of silence ticked by.

But then Ron began to return to his normal freckly color. He looked at Harry intently, and then shrugged. “She’ll be all right,” he said after a minute. “She’s a tough one, my little sister, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ve definitely noticed,” Harry said, exhaling with relief.

“But can I ask you,” Ron said thoughtfully. “Why? Why aren’t you going to date her anymore? I thought you two got on fine.”

Harry looked down at the ground, then back up at his friend. “We do get on fine,” he said. “She’s a great girl, it’s just that she’s not-”

“The girl,” Ron finished for him, and nodded. Harry noticed that Ron wasn’t looking at him anymore, but rather over at Hermione. “Does she know yet?”

“Not yet,” Harry said, and frowned, realizing that there was another unpleasant task lying ahead of him. As if vanquishing the forces of darkness wasn’t enough.

“I think we’re ready,” Hermione said loudly, and Harry and Ron moved closer to the cauldron.

The room was nearly full of the white smoke that was billowing from it; Harry could feel its icy cold as it curled around his knees and feet. The center of the cauldron glowed a pale bluish silver.

“I- I have to say the incantation,” Hermione said to them, smiling awkwardly. “It’s kind of like the one for the Marauder’s Map, only-”

“Just say it, Hermione,” Ron said, peering into the cauldron.

“Right,” she said, and cleared her throat. She lifted her wand, and dipped the glowing tip into the liquid. “I solemnly swear to defeat the Dark Lord.” As she spoke, the pale glow grew brighter and brighter, until they had to shield their eyes. “I’m tossing the diary in now,” Hermione announced. “I don’t know what’s going to happen; maybe we should duck or something-”

“Just throw it!” Harry heard Ron say, and she did; Harry heard it land in the cauldron with a splash.

The room was instantly dimmer, and there was not only white smoke now, but blue and pitch black as well. And then, the cauldron ceased to smoke altogether.

“What happened?” Harry asked. “Did it work?”

Hermione didn’t answer. She was staring intently at the cauldron, and then, she suddenly stepped forward and, jerking up her sleeve, plunged her arm into the black liquid.

“Hermione!” Harry and Ron exclaimed. She was in up to her elbow, and then up to her shoulder, before the pulled her arm back out.

Clutched in her hand was what appeared to be a small, iridescent blue pyramid. It hardly appeared to be there at all, as if she couldn’t possibly be touching it, as if it were just an illusion.

“Very cool,” Ron whispered.

“Only if it works,” Hermione whispered back.

Harry couldn’t resist. He drew his wand and tapped it against the pyramid in her hand. “I solemnly swear to defeat the Dark Lord,” he said quietly.

The three of them gasped as the pyramid opened up in Hermione’s hand, unfolding itself and projecting a wide beam of light into the air. Inside of it was a scene, of a country road, and then it moved, along several roads and through forests. They watched as street signs and markers sped past, and then the view moved through the trees, and into a clearing, at the center of which was a lake.

“It’s taking us there,” Harry said with awe as the view plunged into the water. He thought he could see the waxy shapes of floating Inferi and shivered. And then it was there in the view, resting at the bottom: a sapphire encrusted coffer, half buried in silt.

“Ravenclaw,” Hermione said quietly, and then the light disappeared, and the pyramid refolded itself in her hand. “We’d better tell McGonagall,” she said hurriedly.

“We’d better get some rest,” Harry corrected her. “Because we leave in the morning.”

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A/N: Yeah, I know, Harry, Hermione, and a hippogriff together in the pumpkin patch. It’s a little precious. But come on, don’t we love that fluffy pie goodness? Or at least I do anyway.

And also, I’m a liar on two counts. First, I said that this chapter wouldn’t make it out on time, which it obviously has, and second, I said that this chapter would be the second to last, which it obviously isn’t, because the horcrux hunt hasn’t even started yet. So it’s going to be longer. By one or two chapters maybe. At this point I should really just stop guessing. It’ll be over when it’s over!

Thank you so much for all of your reviews….they’re brilliant and funny all around, and sometimes you sneak in a mini theory…or a good Ginny-rant, both of which I adore. You guys rule.