The Deceiver's Distillation
by Jardyn39
AN: Posted a little early due to all the "confused" comments!
Chapter 15 - The Reckoning
Harry opened his eyes to find he was standing in the middle of the drawing room at Grimmauld Place. All the lanterns were lit.
"Look what you made me do!"
Harry looked up to see a furious Hermione brandishing something at him. Clearly she was suddenly as angry as he was.
"What did I make you do?" he asked coldly.
"It was a beautiful porcelain figurine, one of a pair. Mrs Weasley loved these."
"It looks okay from here."
"No, this is the second one," she replied, walking over to a side table and gently placing it down. "I was about to throw this one as well when Dobby appeared and brought me here."
"Oh. Well, help yourself to anything you want to throw at me. You'll probably find it easier than through a closed upstairs window."
"Ha, ha," she replied dryly, walking around the large room. "Why did they bring us here, anyway?"
"Isn't it obvious?" said Harry, taking a step to the side and wondering why he hadn't ever noticed the large assortment of china and porcelain oddments that adorned the room.
Harry squinted and lowered his head to examine something that looked familiar. This was perhaps fortunate as a small vase narrowly missed his head. Harry reached out and picked up his glasses.
"Nice one Dobby," he muttered as he heard a dull thunking noise followed by the familiar smashing of something delicate. He put his glasses on and realised what the thunk noise had been.
"I think the windows are charmed, Hermione. I don't think that old glass cabinet is though," he said needlessly as the doors and glass shelves of the cabinet became her next target.
They continued to circle around the room, and Harry wondered if Hermione was deliberately missing him on purpose or was just a very poor thrower.
The groans of frustration indicated to him that it was the latter.
He looked back at her at last.
"NO!"
Hermione jumped, looking quite startled for a moment. She had frozen, one hand extending towards a large stone dish that Harry hadn't even noticed was there in the room.
"Not that, Hermione. I can't let you smash Dumbledore's Pensieve."
Anger flashed across Hermione's features.
"You actually think I would do that? That I'd even be capable of something like that?"
"Hermione, I really don't know what you are capable of doing any more," he replied angrily.
Hermione grabbed an enormous two handled china urn and swung it around. The noise it made as it impacted on the far wall was the loudest yet. Smaller figurines smashed under the falling debris and liberal amounts of sharp broken pottery flew out over the carpet.
"You lied to me!" shouted Hermione.
"Of course I lied," Harry retorted. "I didn't know who you were. There's no way I was going to tell the truth to an impostor."
"Don't give me that," she spat contemptuously. "You knew for ages that I wasn't an impostor or somehow under control."
"Control?" said Harry with a hollow laugh. "Oh, yes, Hermione, you've more than demonstrated that you've got no control."
Another figurine flew past his ear.
"Stop trying to change the subject," shouted Hermione. "Why did you hit Ron?"
He was momentarily distracted by a large piece of debris on the floor. He carefully tipped it over with a toe to reveal a pattern that Harry thought was vaguely familiar to him. He carefully stepped over it, picking his way through the sharp pieces, not wishing to cut his feet.
"He said something I took exception to," replied Harry eventually through gritted teeth.
"Really? I'd never have guessed," she shouted sarcastically. "I won't ask you what that exception was because you don't really do the truth thing any more, do you?" she added bitterly. "Ah, but of course, I was forgetting. You also like a while to think about the lie you'll tell me instead. Maybe we should make an appointment. Three months next Tuesday? Mark it in you diary as Tell More Lies to Hermione."
Harry just shook his head to the sound of another impact.
"Too much of an effort to do it yourself? No problem, just order one of your little soldier friends to do it for you."
Harry turned quickly and said, "Those soldier friends were there to protect you. They went after you when I specifically asked you to stay out of the camp at the Arena. You put them at risk, Hermione."
"I told them not to follow me."
"Yes, you ordered them not to follow you, didn't you?"
"Yes!"
"Except they knew they had little choice but to find you, even though you tried to give them the slip."
"Oh, yes! Harry's orders must be obeyed! What did you tell them? Make sure silly Hermione stays out of the way! We wouldn't want her interfering with all the carnage!"
"Hermione, none of them were ever under an obligation to follow an order I gave them. Bateman gave them their orders, and they adapted to suit the conditions. They had to go after you because the original plan was to overrun the camp or blow it up."
"Well, I'm sorry, but there was no way I was going to allow that."
"So, that's why you went into the camp?"
"Yes. Your soldier friends just don't understand that bombs don't discriminate between combatants and innocent bystanders."
"I think you need to give them more credit than that, Hermione. The only innocent bystanders were the prisoners, and they went in to try and save them."
"Well yes, but there was no talk about searching the camp, was there?"
Harry didn't answer. The moment he heard a slight hesitancy in her voice, he knew she understood.
"Tired of throwing things?"
"I'm saving some for later," she replied at once. "Tell me something truthful, Harry. I'd like to hear you tell me something truthful."
"What like?"
"I hardly know where to begin!"
"Ask me anything. Just remember, Dumbledore one told me that the truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."
"Tell me," she began before stopping. "Hang on. Why are you so keen on telling me the truth, all of a sudden?"
"Maybe I'll just tell you more lies," Harry suggested.
"Why did you change into Voldemort like that?"
Harry paused, waiting for her to add the comment he knew she must make.
"It certainly wasn't a side effect of the Distiller's Distillation," asserted Hermione. Harry smiled to himself.
"Oh, it was certainly a factor," replied Harry. "I've told you before what it's like when I possess Voldemort. I see with his eyes and I feel with his hands. I'm actually inside his body, and the memory of that experience has stayed with me. Tonks is quite convinced that I'm actually a latent metamorphmagus. I can't actually do any transformations because I didn't practise when I was younger. What I can do, I have no control over. When I pulled the cork out of that flask, I had a fleeting thought."
"What a surprise we'd all get if you turned into Voldemort?"
Harry smiled and nodded.
"But Harry, metamorphmagus gifts are incredibly rare," began Hermione as Harry raised his eyebrows and shook his head slightly. "Oh my gosh! Your hair! It was cut before and now it's back to normal!"
"Unfortunately, I can't do it on purpose," he admitted, "but if I just forget it, my hair just goes back to normal after a while."
"But why didn't you tell us the truth, Harry?"
"Two reasons. Firstly, I wasn't sure then that I'd take either of you with me. If I was to leave alone, I wanted to keep this a secret in case I can develop it into something more useful."
"Yes, I see that. But why not tell me until now?"
"Well, you didn't ask me until now. The second reason was that Ron sometimes has problems with the things I tell him about. I'd probably want to find the right time before telling him."
Hermione paused to consider his answer.
"How did you know it was me?"
This question wasn't as abstract as it sounded; "it" hadn't been far from either of their minds every since Hermione had admitted her actions.
Harry fingered the edge of the Pensieve and said, "I saw everything in here. Well, I saw enough in here to make me increasingly suspicious. It started just by accident. I was practicing trying to use it, and I was trying out memories. It's easier if you remember exactly what the occasion was. For example, it's difficult to recall, say breakfast six weeks ago if nothing out of the ordinary happened, but if you choose a memory like your first morning after leaving the Durleys, it is easier."
"So what gave me away?"
"It was only afterwards that I thought I may have had an unnatural sleep. No, what stood out was the strange way you were looking at me while I was distracted with something else. Not just then, other times as well. I also got a couple of looks at that notebook you recorded your observations in. You certainly kept that well hidden. I didn't manage to crack the code, though."
Hermione frowned.
"I'll show you, if you'd like. I mean, I'll show you what a Pensieve memory looks like. We don't have to see anything unpleasant. I'll need my wand, though."
"It wasn't written in a proper code, Harry. I just used a shorthand so I could note your reactions and the timings to different potions. Harry, you said you forgave me. Was that true?"
"Well," began Harry.
"Tell me the truth. Please."
Harry looked down. "The thing is, I honestly don't think you understand how hurt I was. Well, how hurt I am."
"But, no real harm was done, was it?"
"No?" Harry asked incredulously. "One of the worst things I can think of actually being done, to me, by my best friend? The friend that I trusted above everyone else, and the friend I trust to tell me the difference between right and wrong. I am hurting, Hermione, and what's making this whole thing worse is that if there's one person I thought I could count on to know just how much I am hurting, that would be you."
"Well, I've been afraid to look lately."
"I didn't mean that. Do you really only know me by your empathic sight thing?"
Hermione was becoming redder in the face and Harry was sure she was trying desperately not to cry. He opened his arms and drew her closer, holding her against his chest.
Hermione sniffed loudly and said, "I didn't think you believed me about that."
Harry shrugged and refolded his arms around her back.
"You said, Now I know your real motives, and the depths you'd go to, to help me, I actually feel I trust you more."
Harry said nothing.
"That was a lie, wasn't it?"
Harry bowed his head.
"Well?"
"Yes, Hermione. It wasn't true. I said it because I wanted to cheer you up, and, I suppose, I wanted it to be true. No, I needed it to be true. I honestly don't think I could cope without your trust."
They stood together quietly for a long moment.
"Why did you hit Ron?"
"That's the wrong question. Anyway, what's going on with you two now? From all the bickering, I assume you're going to get back together."
"You assume wrong, then. I finished with Ron when he accused me of harbouring feelings for you. I know he still wants me to go out with him, but there's no way I could do that for the foreseeable future."
"That could make things a little awkward," said Harry.
"Yes, but we'll get over it eventually."
"I didn't mean awkward between you and Ron. I meant, awkward between me and Ron."
"Well, if you will go round hitting people."
Harry snorted.
"Harry, how did we get out of that tower?"
"I thought you'd ask me the right question about Ron, first, actually."
"What is the right question?"
"That would be, what did Ron say? Anyway, we got away because I realised what was holding us there. Well, me, anyway. It was my Patronus that gave it away, just standing there like that."
"Was your stag Patronus brighter than usual, or was that just my eyes?"
"Oh, it was much brighter," he replied with a smile, remembering the memory he'd used.
"Are you ever going to tell me?"
"Ask me what Ron said."
Hermione sighed and asked, "Okay, what did Ron say?"
"He said," Harry began, and then paused. "Actually, I've forgotten his actual words."
Hermione snorted loudly and Harry laughed.
"It was something like, Well done for escaping."
"Harry, just tell me."
"I just wanted to say well done. I mean, well, thanks mate."
"Oh, Harry. You thought Ron was thanking you for delivering me safely back to him. You'll have to apologise to him."
"No way."
"But, I still don't understand. What did that have to do with how we escaped?"
"I couldn't leave. No part of me could leave while you were trapped there. I think that's why it was so warm, to make sure I got your scent."
"Harry that makes no sense."
"Except it worked. I was able to Apparate us both out of there because you weren't-"
"No, Harry," Hermione interrupted. "Why couldn't I Apparate then?"
"What were you thinking before we escaped?"
"Lots of things, but mainly how afraid I was of what might happen to us later."
"Yes. You were afraid to Apparate out of the tower. So was I. It was fear that was trapping us in there. Now, what were you thinking at the exact moment we left?"
Hermione stroked her hands absently across his back sending shivers up and down his spine.
"I suppose, I was thinking that whatever happened, at least I had that moment with you."
Hermione stiffened at once, perhaps in shock at her admission.
The door opened and Dobby walked in carrying a large dustpan and brush. He was closely followed by Kreacher.
Harry looked around. They had made an awful lot of mess.
"Kreacher has agreed to supervise you while you clean up," announced Dobby. "Dobby will make dinner."
Hermione was also looking around and said, "Er, thank you. Yes, of course we'll clean up. Have you another dustpan and brush?"
"No, Miss Hermione, but there are sacks."
"Oh, that'll be fine then."
*
After a rather late dinner, Harry and Hermione sat together in the now spotless lounge, still in their underwear.
Kreacher had insisted that they continue cleaning until he was entirely satisfied that every chip and fragment of broken crockery was picked up. It had taken rather a long time without their wands.
"Kreacher rather enjoyed that, didn't he?" said Hermione, yawning widely.
Harry smiled and nodded.
"How come he could give you orders like that?"
"I gave him permission a while ago to tell me anything so long as he believed it was the truth. Of course, I didn't need to order him not to help clean up this place."
"I do think they could have got us some robes, though."
"It's a house elf thing. We're not really better than them, are we?"
"That's not what I meant."
"I know, but my point is that if house elves are good enough to clean and serve without being given clothes, it would be wrong to give us clothes for just doing the same thing."
"You know, it's scary that you can even function with that kind of logic, Harry. Why did they bring us here, anyway?"
"Someone ordered them to do it."
"Someone with a Pensieve?"
"That's my guess. He probably assumed we'd have our wands, though, so we could use his Pensieve as well as throw things at each other."
"I hope he didn't know what I did," said Hermione.
"I didn't find anything to indicate that he knew anything. Mind you, I didn't find a lot of things. He may have suspected something was amiss, but I'm sure he was confident we'd work it out in the end."
Hermione sighed.
"So, are you ready to go back to the Burrow yet?" he asked.
"I know I should be. Mum and Dad are bound to be worried."
"I'll see if I can find some old robes then," said Harry, starting to get up but realising that Hermione wasn't shifting her weight off him. He relaxed back again.
"Harry?"
"Mm?"
"I need to tell you something important. I'm not going to put up with any more nonsense. No more ordering me back up to the castle and such. If I do something you ask, it's because I want to. All I want is your respect back, Harry."
"Okay," Harry replied with a smile into her hair.
"And that includes your not shoving your wand down the back of my pants!"
"Yes, I'm sorry about that," he said with an embarrassed laugh. "I needed two hands free to hang on to you, and that was all I could think of."
"So what memory did you use?"
"Oh, nothing special. I just thought how happy I was, alone in a room with no door."
"I'm not sure if that deserves a slap or a kiss, Harry."
Harry grimaced and said, "Well if that's the only choice, it definitely deserved a slap. You see, your underwear is pretty distracting, chaste as it is and what with-"
Hermione laughed but managed to silence him with a kiss.
Epilogue follows.