Chapter Four - Hermione's Revelation
The next morning Harry awoke from the best night's sleep he had had all summer. He had dreamed of his parents, but for once it was not the memories of the fateful night of their deaths but an oddly peaceful dream where they had been smiling and waving at him, much akin to the vision of them he had seen in the Mirror of Erised many years before. As the remnants of the dream faded away he lay in the cramped fold-out bed in Ron's room with a smile on his face as Ron continued to snore across from him. He was glad he had gone to visit their graves, even if he hadn't said much whilst sitting in front of them. Just being there had been enough. Mr and Mrs Weasley, however, had not been pleased with them when they returned. Harry had felt a bit guilty, as he probably should have told them where they were going. Mrs Weasley particularly had been very angry. "No-one with you!" she had shrieked. "No protection, just wandering off by yourselves Merlin-knows where! Dementors and Giants and Death Eaters all over the country . . ."
She had directed most of her anger at Ron, as if he were somehow to blame; when Harry apologised and Hermione explained where they'd gone Mrs Weasley had eased up a bit, but as he sat down to breakfast later that morning there was still a certain frostiness in the air and not a lot of conversation. Even Ginny was very quiet as they ate, and she was normally one of the most talkative. It didn't help that Mrs Weasley had arranged for them to go to Diagon Alley that morning to shop for their school things and they would be under Auror guard, something that Mrs Weasley no doubt felt they should have had the previous afternoon. It was something of a relief then when a Ministry car arrived to transport them, and Mrs Weasley sat up front with the driver, leaving the four of them alone in the back.
"She'll cool off soon enough mate, don't worry," Ron said as Harry looked out of the window at the thickening traffic. Harry nodded at him but resumed his gaze outside. His mind was still on his parents. Hermione and Ginny were talking about Ginny's new Prefect status and, once he saw that Harry didn't seem to be about to speak anytime soon, Ron joined their conversation.
There was a pleasant surprise waiting for them when the car finally pulled to a halt outside the Leaky Cauldron: standing next to a stern-looking Auror who was looking suspiciously up and down the road was Tonks, her bright bubblegum-pink hair standing out for a mile, and beside her was Remus Lupin.
"Wotcher," she greeted them cheerfully as the driver held open the door.
"Good morning, Molly," Lupin said as he helped her step out of the car.
"Morning, Remus," Mrs Weasley replied, and Harry was relieved to see that her normal cheery mood had returned. "Good morning, Jenkins."
"Ready to go, Mrs Weasley?" asked the stern-looking Auror.
He led them into the Leaky Cauldron as Tonks and the others exchanged greetings, through the empty pub (not even Tom the landlord was to be seen) and out into the rear yard where Tonks tapped on a certain brick in the wall and the entrance to Diagon Alley materialised. Harry was saddened to see that it was even quieter than last year - in fact the once-crowded street was nearly deserted. More shops were closed down and boarded up and there were still magical posters of wanted Death Eaters plastered everywhere. Although there weren't as many as the previous year, there were still a few dodgy stalls with their seedy-looking owners behind them, all of whom looked eager to see them at the prospect of customers.
"Keep together now," Mrs Weasley said, eyeing the nearest stallholder with distaste. Tonks took the lead, closely followed by Hermione and Ginny and then Ron and Mrs Weasley behind them. Harry allowed himself to drop a few paces back so he could walk with Lupin. Jenkins took up the rear.
"You're looking well, Professor," Harry told him, and he thought it was true. Even though Lupin's hair was still greyed and he was walking with a cane and a slight limp, Harry thought he looked better than he'd seen him all year. He suspected Tonks had something to do with it.
"Thank you Harry," Lupin said, smiling kindly. "Though it has been a few years since I was your teacher. You are of Age now, and I would like it if you would call me Remus."
"All right, si- Remus," Harry finished, grinning. He wasn't sure if he would get used to calling him that.
"You are looking well yourself, Harry. We did not get a real chance to speak at the wedding, aside from your request . . . everything is all right?"
"As well as can be expected," Harry said grimly. Lupin nodded sagely.
"And how was your visit?"
He could only be talking about one thing. Harry was silent for a moment before replying.
"It was . . . nice," he finished.
"Godric's Hollow is a beautiful place," Lupin said as they made their way along the cobbled street. "I visited it when James and Lily first chose to hide there, and of course sadly again when they were buried. It would have made a happy home for you."
Harry didn't want to think about it anymore, so he asked Lupin a question that had been pressing on him for the last few days.
"Remus, what's happening with the Order? Now that Dumbledore is gone, I mean."
Lupin hung his head sadly. Up ahead of them Tonks brandished her wand threateningly at a witch who was trying to drape a dark-coloured shawl around Hermione's shoulders.
"I am afraid I don't know the answer to that, Harry," Lupin told him. "We are without leadership, and our numbers reduced thanks to Snape's treachery."
Harry's ears pricked at Lupin's use of `Snape'. He had always referred to him as Severus, despite their less-than-friendly past.
"At this point in time the Order's future is unclear. We all have assignments given to us by Albus that we are still carrying out, but whether it is still prudent to continue with them is uncertain. We shall have to elect a new leader, who will decide for us."
"But the Order still exists, right?" Harry asked. "Even with Dumbledore gone-"
"The Order still stands," Lupin said, cutting him off. "We have suffered a great loss, but we will carry on. We will carry on until Lord Voldemort is defeated, or we are."
Or I am, Harry thought gravely. He was the only one who could stop Voldemort, after all.
"Forgive me for asking you this Harry, but I understand that over the last school year you had regular meetings with Albus?"
"Yeah, I did," Harry said, warily.
"I feel that I must ask you, as no doubt that Minerva will, if there is anything that you discussed with Albus that might help us? Anything at all?"
Lupin was regarding him keenly. Harry felt his insides squirming; Dumbledore had chosen not to reveal the Horcruxes to the rest of the Order, which he must have had reasons for doing so. Should Harry tell them about the Horcruxes? Would Dumbledore want them to know, now that he was gone?
"I don't think so," Harry answered finally. "I don't think Dumbledore would have told me anything he wouldn't have told the rest of the Order."
Harry's insides squirmed again at the lie, but Lupin seemed satisfied with the answer and nodded. Fortunately they had reached Gringotts so Harry was able to busy himself with withdrawing some of his gold while Tonks, Lupin and Jenkins waited in the foyer. Although there were no queues the goblins subjected them to a long check with Secrecy Sensors and Dark Detectors before allowing them to pass (one of them hastily removed its hand from a Probity Probe after one look from Mrs Weasley). The actual withdrawal of their gold was uneventful save for a "Blimey!" from Ginny when Harry's vault was opened; his already sizeable fortune had been swelled by the money left to him by Sirius and he hastily scooped up coins from the mountains of galleons as quickly as he could, still embarrassed by it.
Mrs Weasley propelled them from shop to shop hurriedly. Madame Malkin was very pleased to see them ("Hogwarts! You're the first ones so far!" she trilled) and the owner of Flourish & Blotts was equally happy, once they had woken him up. Business had been so poor lately, he informed them, that he'd taken to having frequent naps behind the cash register. Soon they were laden with heavy packages of books and robes. Harry's arms were beginning to grow tired as they stood outside the apothecary waiting for Hermione, who had been inside for a good twenty minutes.
"What's she doing in there?" Ron moaned, who was also carrying Ginny's books. Harry was starting to get worried when Hermione eventually strode out with a scowl on her face, tucking a very small package inside her jacket pocket.
"Honestly I'm not some kind of fangirl . . ." she muttered.
"Everything all right?" Lupin asked her.
"Yes, fine," Hermione replied, a hasty smile replacing her scowl. Harry didn't think she was telling the truth but there was no time to ask her as Mrs Weasley frogmarched them off to their final destination: Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes was still as loud and colourful as the last time Harry had seen it, and he was pleased to see that it was still drawing a fair amount of customers compared to the rest of the shops along Diagon Alley. It wasn't as crowded as it had been last year but the shop was loud with conversation, and it took Harry a few moments to realise that the majority of customers were older-looking wizards and witches - there was the unmistakable air of Ministry workers about them. Some were browsing Fred and George's more familiar joke products with the younger customers, but most of them were heading in and out of a doorway next to the counter. The twins were nowhere to be seen, their assistant Verity manning the counter, so Harry led them to the doorway where most of the customers were heading to.
Through the doorway was a room that Harry was sure hadn't been there the previous year. It was very large, and the walls were lined with cloaks, robes, hats and gloves of all sizes and looks. It seemed they had walked into the middle of a demonstration, as Fred and George stood in the middle of the room surrounded by a group of customers. George was putting on a handsome-looking set of robes.
"Now ladies and gentlemen," Fred was saying to the crowd, "watch as the built-in Shield Charm in the robes my brother George is modelling deflects even the toughest curses!"
With a flourish, he drew his wand and pointed it at an utterly unfazed George and shouted "Stupefy!" Some of the crowd gasped as the red beam of light shot towards George, only for it to strike his robes which briefly glowed yellow and ricochet off up towards the ceiling. The crowd applauded, and Fred and George both took a bow. As the applause died down the noise of conversation grew once again and the crowd of customers moved to examine the variety of robes and cloaks along the walls.
"Triple W Defense Clothing," said Fred, coming over to them. "Remember we told you about it last year Harry? Hi Mum."
Harry laughed as Mrs Weasley gave first Fred and then George (who appeared a few moments later) an enormous hug.
"All right Mum, all right, you haven't seen us since the wedding," winced George.
"Which was only two days ago," Fred added jokingly.
"A lot can happen in two days!" Mrs Weasley scolded. "Diagon Alley isn't the safest place to live . . ."
The twins both rolled their eyes, then spotted Ron who was glaring at them.
"Ronald," said Fred, smirking.
"You were wasted," said George.
"Only because of you, you gits!" Ron fumed. "Just you wait . . ."
"Have a look around ladies," George said, ignoring Ron and gesturing to Hermione, Ginny and Mrs Weasley. "The ladies line has been a little slower to take off, we need all the feedback we can get. Let me show you some of the hats for the more distinguished witch, Mum . . ."
He led the three of them off, leaving Fred with Harry. Ron sloped off back into the main room of the shop muttering something about dungbombs.
"We've come a long way since the cloak we showed you last year," Fred said to Harry as he began showing him along the range of clothes. "We're having a hard time meeting demand, to be honest with you. This stuff is outselling our joke products five to one."
"It's great," said Harry, marvelling at a display of hats that included a Muggle top hat and a ten gallon cowboy hat.
"As you can see, we cater to everyone. This set of robes, for example," said Fred, holding it up for Harry to see, "is your more basic set. The built-in charm only works once, so it's only five galleons."
Fred hung the robes back up, and then led Harry further down the line.
"Now these," he said with a grin, "are the top of the line. Only the very best materials, hand-made by our assistant Verity who's a dab hand with a wand and a needle let me tell you."
Harry picked up one of the cloaks Fred was gesturing to, and liked it immediately. It was black and lined with red silk inside, and felt very soft to the touch.
"The Shield Charm built into this one is good for either one very strong curse or two minor ones, but the best part is it can be re-charged. Took us ages to get it right. It's also got a heating charm built-in to keep you warm if you're in a really cold place."
"Nice," said Harry. He wasn't an expert on clothes by any means, but he liked the cloak he was holding now.
Hermione had appeared next to them looking at the witch equivalent of the cloaks Fred was talking about, and she too was admiring them.
"This looks nice," she said, picking out a cloak similar to Harry's which was black but with a blue interior lining.
"Try it on," encouraged Fred. Harry thought he could see the cash register opening in his eyes already, and grinned. Hermione slipped the cloak on and looked at herself in a large mirror set up nearby.
"You look lovely, dear," said the mirror. "You should buy it."
Hermione frowned at Fred.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"It does look nice," Hermione said, but when she looked at the price tag attached to the sleeve her eyes widened.
"Forty galleons?"
"Blimey," said Harry.
"As I was just saying to Harry, my dear Hermione, only the best materials. Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes don't skimp on quality. Shall we measure you up?" he asked with a cheeky grin, producing a tape measure.
"These fit me perfectly fine, thank you very much," Hermione replied, her tone suggesting she didn't find the joke amusing.
"Yes Weasley you keep your hands to yourself please," said Harry, stepping in front of Hermione.
"You'd be surprised at how many witches that actually works on," Fred said with another grin as the tape measure vanished back into his pocket. "So how about the cloak, Hermione? Shall I wrap it up for you?"
"You won't be getting any galleons from me today I'm afraid Fred," she replied, taking the cloak off. "I'm all out."
"I'll get it," Harry offered.
"No Harry, it's so expensive!"
"It's all right," he told her, now with a grin of his own as he took the cloak from her hands. "I'll take this," he said to Fred, "and this one with the red lining for me, and here, this one with the orange lining for Ron, it looks like it'll fit him all right. Put them on my tab."
Fred's grin, which had grown wider each time Harry took more cloaks, momentarily faltered.
"Your tab," he said. "Right you are, Harry. No problem."
Taking the cloaks from Harry with a look that said he regretted ever telling him he would never pay for anything, Fred walked off to the counter to wrap them up.
"Thank you Harry," said Hermione, "but you really shouldn't have, they're so expensive . . ."
"It's all right," he told her as they followed Fred through to the main room. "The twins and I have a sort of understanding."
Hermione raised her eyebrows but grinned herself and didn't comment.
Harry collected the packages from Fred and, after handing Hermione hers, he went and found Ron who was standing next to a display of dungbombs. He still looked very grumpy.
"What do you reckon," Ron asked him as he approached, turning a particularly large dungbomb over in his hands. "Do you think I could transfigure this into something and get them to eat it?"
"I doubt it," Harry told him. "Not if you offer it to them, at any rate. Why are you so annoyed at them? It's not the first time the twins have played a prank on you."
"I know, but I'm of Age now and I'm getting fed up of it. They never do anything to Bill or Charlie . . . I dunno, I guess I'd just hoped for a bit more respect now these days. But oh no, it's `let's get Ron drunk as a house-elf won't that be a laugh' . . ."
"Cheer up mate," said Harry. "Look, I've got the three of us new cloaks, here's yours . . ."
"Thanks mate," said Ron, accepting the package Harry offered. "These are their newest ones yeah? They were talking about them to Mad-Eye at the wedding, they sounded good . . ."
Ron's face lit up as he took his out of the bag and held it up, seeing the orange colour inside it.
"Cannons colours!" he exclaimed. "Brilliant, nice one Harry! Did you use your voucher?"
"Oh, er, yeah, yeah I did," Harry said, realising that he'd completely forgot all about his birthday gift from Ron. He felt bad for the lie but didn't want to spoil it for Ron, who seemed to be much more cheered up by his new cloak.
They didn't spend much more time in the joke shop as Mrs Weasley re-appeared wearing a new hat adorned with flowers that changed colours every few seconds; now satisfied that Fred and George weren't in mortal danger she was eager to leave Diagon Alley and get everyone safely back to the Burrow.
"Are we all here?" she enquired, performing a head-count. "Where's Ginny?"
"Right here," Ginny said, appearing next to her and putting a wrapped package into her bag of school books.
"What's that?" Mrs Weasley asked her sternly.
"Nothing," Ginny said innocently, but she exchanged a wink with George who was grinning behind their mother. The twins were treated to another set of hugs from Mrs Weasley before they all left, walking outside to find Lupin waiting for them with the Auror Jenkins.
"Where's Tonks?" Hermione asked.
"By here," a voice said behind them. Harry turned to see a witch that was somewhat indistinguishable from the Ministry-looking customers inside suddenly turn back into Tonks.
"We weren't about to all wait outside now were we?" she said with a grin as they began the walk back to the Leaky Cauldron. "Incidentally," she whispered to Ron, "you may be interested to know that dungbombs, once shrunk a bit, look extraordinarily similar to Honeydukes' new line of Coffee Toffee."
Ron grinned.
* * *
Harry's final week at the Burrow passed remarkably fast. Determined to stick to his training regime, he spent the days out at his usual spot in the field next to the Weasley's house practising his spellcasting. Ron remained his primary duel partner as although Hermione kept her word and came out every now and then to duel with him (and proved to be his toughest opponent by far) she spent most of the week shut up in Percy's old room surrounded by piles of books and mountains of notes full of her neat handwriting. Each time Harry saw her she looked increasingly unhappy which worried him, but when he asked her she shrugged off his concern, saying that Legilimency was proving harder to research than she'd thought. Harry was sure there was more to it than that but didn't press her about it, not wishing to upset her when she was putting so much work into helping him. As it turned out though, he didn't have to wait long to find out what Hermione had really been up to.
The sun was beginning to creep low in the sky on the last afternoon Harry would be spending at the Burrow that summer. It was still strange for him to think that tomorrow was September the first and they would once again be making the journey to platform nine and three-quarters and then on to Hogwarts. Only two months earlier he had been standing by the lake with Ron and Hermione, quite sure that he wouldn't be coming back to the beloved castle that had been his home for the last six years. Now here he was, all set to return and to be Head Boy, of all things! It was still very hard to believe. Hermione was quite right though, as always - going back was the best plan. But Harry thought that it would take a while to get used to being back there. And it would take even longer to get used to handing out punishments and patrolling the corridors at night . . .
"Harry?"
Hermione's voice floated over the wall, and Harry was immediately worried as she sounded rather distraught. He stood up from where he'd been sitting and she climbed over the wall to join him.
"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned. She looked very upset indeed, but it was curious as her face had the stormy look she wore when she was angry but her eyes were red which made Harry think she'd been crying.
"Where are the others?" she asked as she approached him. "I saw Ron and Ginny practising Quidditch earlier . . ."
"Er, Ron's gone to the shops with Mrs Weasley and Ginny went over to see Luna . . . Hermione what's wrong? Have you been crying?"
She nodded, rather weakly.
"I'm glad they're gone Harry, I need to talk to you alone. This is . . . this is important."
Harry was growing increasingly concerned. What had upset her so?
"Hermione your parents, are they all right? Is that what-"
"They're fine Harry," she said, dismissing that idea. "Please, just come and sit with me?"
He nodded and allowed her to lead them over to the blackened tree stump where they both sat down. She seemed very flustered, fiddling with the sleeves of her hooded top, which only alarmed Harry even more.
"Tell me what's wrong, Hermione. You're scaring me a little."
"I'm sorry," she replied immediately. "It's just I, well, I don't really know how to begin . . . I've discovered something, Harry. I've suspected it ever since I got home from Hogwarts, but I've finally found out for sure. This is going to be a shock, okay?"
"Okay," Harry replied, now feeling very alarmed.
Hermione nodded, and then reached into her pocket and pulled out the smallest potion flask Harry had ever seen. It was no bigger than a thimble, and Hermione handled it with great care.
"Do you recognise this, Harry?"
Harry nodded, for he did indeed recognise the pearlescent liquid even before Hermione removed the tiny stopper and the delicious smells began to waft out. It was Amortentia. The smell of treacle tart and broomstick handles brought a smile to his face, but that smile suddenly turned to a frown: the third smell he had come to associate with Amortentia, the flowery one belonging to Ginny, was gone. In its place was something quite different; it was impossible to describe but very familiar, and just as seductive. Hermione nodded slightly at the puzzled look on Harry's face.
"It smells different, doesn't it?" she asked him. He nodded again. "It did for me too, when I opened it."
She stoppered the tiny flask once again and set it down on the grass between them.
"I believe that for almost the entirety of the last school year we've both been under the effects of Amortentia. We've been drugged, Harry."
Harry was stunned. His mouth opened slightly, and he found it hard to even come up with a reply.
"I know it sounds crazy," Hermione said, her voice wavering, "but please believe me Harry, I'm telling you the truth. We've been drugged!"
"But, but, who? How? Why?" Harry finally managed. He was still in a state of disbelief. He didn't know why Hermione thought this, or how she'd come to her conclusion, but she had to be wrong. She had to be.
"I don't know all the answers, Harry. I have some theories, some ideas, but trust me I'm just as shocked and angry about this as you are. To think that someone was messing with our emotions, oh, it makes me feel sick! It's a violation!"
Hermione was shaking and it was this that made Harry begin to think clearly. Hermione was so certain about this - when was she ever wrong?
"Hermione," he said, "I want to believe that you're right but this is just, well, it's just mad! How do you know this?"
"Your reaction to the Amortentia just now was the final confirmation," she said, fiddling with her sleeves again. "But there are other things. I'll start from the beginning."
Harry ran one hand through his hair. This was so hard to believe.
"At first I thought it was just me," Hermione began. "I noticed that I felt different a few days after I'd got home. Certain . . . feelings that I'd been having last year simply vanished. And that just doesn't happen! Not with real feelings, at any rate . . ."
"Feelings for who?"
Hermione looked at him like he was rather stupid, although she blushed.
"Come on Harry, who was I rather obsessed with last year?"
"What, Ron?"
"Yes - didn't that seem a little bit strange to you?"
"Well, no," Harry replied, scratching the back of his head and now feeling a little bit awkward. "I always thought that you two . . ."
"Really?" she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "Why would you think that?"
"I dunno," said Harry. "I guess it's just the impression I've always got, the way you two carry on sometimes. I, er, think that Ron's always fancied you . . ."
Hermione blushed again.
"I know," she said. "And it's very flattering, but I don't fancy him. So when I got home and well, came to my senses for lack of a better description, I immediately suspected I'd been under the influence of a love potion."
Something immediately struck home with Harry - the same thing had happened with him! How many times since he'd been here at the Burrow had he found it strange to be around Ginny, and not feel anything like what he'd felt for her at Hogwarts?
"It was the same for you, wasn't it?" Hermione asked, once again seeming to read his mind.
"Yes," Harry admitted, the shock of it beginning to hit him. "I've noticed it here at the Burrow, when Ginny's around. I thought it was strange that I didn't feel . . . how I did. I didn't really think too much of it though, I was more concerned about what we're going to do about the Horcruxes . . ."
Hermione nodded sympathetically.
"So anyway, I had my suspicions. Do you remember the spell I cast on you when I first got here? The one that made the silver glow on your chest?"
Harry nodded.
"It's a spell I found in Advanced Potion Making. I cast it on myself, and had the same result as you. It confirms that the person's heart has been affected by magic."
This hit Harry like a hammer blow. He had seen that glow emanating from his own body, from his own heart . . .
They were both silent for a few moments. Somewhere overhead a bird gave out a loud call.
"So the only reason I was with Ginny was because someone had fed me a love potion?" Harry asked quietly.
"I'm afraid so, Harry," Hermione answered, just as quietly. "Like I said, at first I thought that it was just me. I wasn't even going to bring it up with you, but then I began to worry. Forgive me, Harry, but I began to think back over what happened last year and it occurred to me that you'd been friends with Ginny for a long time and you'd never shown any kind of romantic interest in her before. I knew I had to cast the spell on you, just to find out for sure. I could have been wrong, of course . . ."
"I'm just sorry you were right," Harry finished glumly.
Hermione nodded her agreement.
"When you tested positive with the spell, I knew that this was much bigger than I'd thought. I knew I had to try and find out what we'd been given, and how."
Harry was struck by a sudden thought.
"Hermione, what about Ron and Ginny? Were they under the effects too?"
Hermione shook her head.
"I cast the spell on both of them, and it was negative. What they felt was real."
Harry exhaled slowly. No wonder Hermione had wanted to speak to him about this alone.
"Do you think we should tell them?" he asked, but he was pretty sure he knew what the answer would be.
"I don't think so," Hermione told him. "You have to put yourself in their position - how would you feel if someone told you the only reason they'd been interested with you was because of a love potion?"
"I'd . . . well, I imagine I'd feel like I'd been hit by a bludger in the gut."
"So I don't think it's a good idea we tell them. Ginny especially, she's liked you for so long Harry. It would really hurt her."
They were silent again for a few moments. So many thoughts were swirling around in Harry's head.
"I got this at the apothecary in Diagon Alley," Hermione said, holding up the tiny flask again.
"That's why you were so long in there!"
"Yes. You wouldn't believe the amount of hassle it is to buy, there's so many legal things to sign to say that you won't use it unlawfully. It's expensive too, this little bit cost nearly all my savings . . ."
"Blimey, no wonder you couldn't afford your cloak!"
"It was worth it though," said Hermione. "It's helped a great deal with my research - that's why I've been so busy this week. I have been looking into Legilimency too, but I needed to get this figured out first."
Harry nodded, urging her to go on.
"In its pure form, drinking Amortentia will radically increase your desire for the person you're naturally attracted to. But I've found out that it can be modified, to specifically make you infatuated with a particular person. I think we were already under its effects during our first Potions lesson, which is why the cauldron that Professor Slughorn had brewed smelt different to this batch here. Now that we don't have the potion in our system, we can smell it in its natural form."
"So someone was slipping us a modified form of the potion? One fixed on Ginny for me and one fixed on Ron for you?"
"That's my theory," said Hermione, chewing on her bottom lip.
"But why, that's what I want to know? Why would someone do this? It's too complicated to be some kind of a sick joke-"
"The only reason I can think of is the obvious one," Hermione interrupted. "Someone wanted you to fall in love with Ginny, and me to fall in love with Ron."
Harry was suddenly struck by a particularly horrible thought.
"Hermione," he asked quietly, "you don't that Ron and Ginny did-"
"No," she answered firmly. "No, I don't."
He was very relieved to hear her say that.
"I don't think it was a witch or wizard that did this to us, Harry."
He looked at her - she was chewing her bottom lip again, unsure of how to tell him what was on her mind.
"Hermione?"
She sighed wistfully.
"This is just a theory, Harry, but I've been thinking about it and the only way that the potion could have gotten into our system is through our food. All of our meals were at the Gryffindor table, so there's no way that someone could have gotten away with lacing our food with potion while we were there. Not all year. Someone would have noticed."
"Hermione what are you saying? Someone was sneaking into the kitchens before every meal?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Perhaps they were already in the kitchens . . ."
A breeze began to pick up as they sat there in silence for a few moments, the cogs in Harry's head beginning to turn. Someone with regular access to the kitchens . . . someone who knew what particular food they liked, which to spike with potion . . . someone who didn't like Harry, or Hermione for that matter . . .
Hermione watched as Harry reached the same conclusion she had, and his face clouded over with rage.
"Kreacher," he said quietly.
She nodded, and Harry suddenly sprang to his feet.
"Kreacher!" he bellowed loudly, and with a loud crack the house-elf appeared in front of him. Hermione jumped to her feet in surprise, and Harry shot a quick apologetic glance at her - she hadn't seen him summon Kreacher before. Kreacher himself was as filthy as ever, his loincloth even more tattered and greasy than before. His bat-like ears grazed the grass as he bent low and regarded Harry with bloodshot eyes.
"Master called?" he asked.
"What have you done, Kreacher?" Harry asked him angrily.
"Kreacher only does what his brat of a Master asks," the house-elf replied gruffly. "Kreacher slaves in the kitchens of Hogwarts, cooking and cleaning for the blood-traitors and Mudbloods, oh how his old Mistress would be ashamed-"
"What have you done to me and Hermione?" Harry demanded.
Kreacher turned around, noticing Hermione for the first time.
"Master is with his Mudblood friend, Kreacher is not surprised, friend of filth and trash that the Master is," he said with a leer. "Kreacher has done nothing, Kreacher would not go near a Mudblood if he could help it-"
"Don't call her that!" Harry spat. "Answer the question!"
"We know about the potion, Kreacher," Hermione said to the house-elf. "We know about the Amortentia. Tell us how you've been doing it."
Kreacher eyed her with disgust.
"The Mudblood talks as if she can give Kreacher orders, but Kreacher will not listen to her, oh no, she is not his Mistress!"
"Answer Hermione's question," Harry told him firmly, and for a few moments Kreacher mumbled and grumbled but finally could not ignore Harry's direct command.
"Kreacher gives Master and his Mudblood friend what they deserve, he puts infatuation in their food, make them love the blood-traitors with the red hair. How clever Kreacher is! And how proud his old Mistress would be, oh yes! Kreacher watches his Master carefully, Kreacher knows what he likes to eat . . ."
The fury was building up inside Harry, now hearing the truth from Kreacher and confirming everything that Hermione had told him. He felt nothing but disgust for the creature in front of him: Kreacher had betrayed Sirius, been nothing but trouble, and now had spent the last year drugging himself and Hermione. Hermione looked just as appalled as he felt. He drew his wand and pointed it at Kreacher, who cowered but had a mocking look on his face.
"Harry, no!"
"Master threatens Kreacher with his wand! He shows his colours, he would punish Kreacher for what he has done, oh what a cruel and terrible Master he is-"
"Shut up," Harry said venomously, and the house-elf quietened down but still looked at him with a leering, mocking expression.
"Why, Kreacher? Why did you drug me? Tell me!"
Again for a few moments Kreacher appeared to wrestle with himself, muttering and cursing and clearly not wanting to tell Harry anything, but eventually he spoke, spitting out the words. What he said shocked Harry to the core:
"Master has the power the Dark Lord knows not," Kreacher finally said. "Master loves, and Master's love will beat the Dark Lord. Only one can survive. Kreacher does not want his brat of a Master to kill the Dark Lord so Kreacher makes his potion and makes his Master love another, makes him love wrong, so that he cannot defeat the Dark Lord. Then Kreacher will serve Mistress Bellatrix, no more Mudbloods and filth oh no . . ."
Harry looked over at Hermione, who had gone very pale and looked like she felt exactly the same as he did. Power he knows not . . . the prophecy! How could Kreacher know about that?
"You know about the prophecy, Kreacher?" Harry asked, his voice calm but barely able to contain his anger.
"Kreacher knows, oh yes," Kreacher spoke tauntingly. "Kreacher watches and listens when Master does not know-"
"Who have you told?" Harry exploded, pointing his wand at Kreacher threateningly. "Who else knows? Tell me!"
Kreacher suddenly threw himself into a tantrum, howling with anger and beating his fists on the grass. The shock of this took away some of Harry's own anger, as it seemed brandishing his wand had nothing to do with the curses and shouts of rage coming from the little creature as it thrashed around, ripping tufts of grass from the soil. Hermione had taken a few steps away in caution. She still looked quite pale. Harry didn't know what to say next so simply waited for Kreacher to tire himself out, which didn't take long. Finally, slumped on the grass and panting slightly, Kreacher raised his head and regarded Harry. The cold look in his eyes chilled Harry's blood, for he had never seen such venom in Kreacher before.
"Kreacher wishes he could tell, oh yes he does. Kreacher would spill his guts to the Dark Lord if he could, tell him all about the prophecy and watch him destroy his filth of a Master. But Kreacher is bound to his Master, and cannot reveal his secrets."
Harry lowered his wand, his mind reeling. It was all too much. The knowledge that his feelings for Ginny had been the result of a potion, and now the fact that only ancient enchantments prevented the sorry looking house-elf at his feet from revealing his most important secrets to Voldemort.
He wished he had never had the misfortune to meet Kreacher.
"Why Hermione?" he managed finally. "She has nothing to do with it, why did you drug her too?"
Still laying on the grass, Kreacher's expression once again become an insulting leer as he turned to look at Hermione.
"The Mudblood knows why, oh yes!"
Harry looked at Hermione in surprise, but she shook her head.
"I don't, Harry, honestly . . ."
He nodded at her. They probably ought to press Kreacher about it further, but Harry had had enough and wanted to be rid of him.
"Kreacher, listen to me," he said firmly, putting his wand away. "You are not to speak to, or communicate with any Death Eaters in any way, do you understand?"
Kreacher looked at Harry and grumbled incoherently, which Harry took for a yes.
"And you are forbidden to use any kind of potions, spells or house-elf magics on me or any of my friends, is that absolutely clear?"
More grumbling, and some cursing this time as the house-elf got to its feet.
"Good," Harry said coldly. "Now get out of my sight and go back to Hogwarts."
Kreacher gave another exaggerated bow to Harry, turning his head slightly to leer at Hermione once more, and then with another loud crack! he vanished.
There were another few moments of silence before Harry finally managed to look over at Hermione.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said to her. "I would never act that way to a house-elf normally but Kreacher . . ."
"It's all right, Harry."
Harry still felt a small measure of shame, despite what he felt was a just reason for him to be so angry at Kreacher. Threatening the creature with his wand was straight out of Lucius Malfoy's book, and not something to be proud of, especially given Hermione's sympathy for house-elves in general.
He sighed loudly, rubbing his temples. There was so much to think about, so much to try and deal with.
"What are we going to do, Hermione?"
"I don't know."
Hermione sounded as confused as he did, which wasn't encouraging. Around them the light was beginning to fail - they'd been outside longer than he'd realised.
"We'd better get inside," he said, and Hermione nodded and followed him back across the grass.
-
Sleep did not come easily for Harry that night, ironically considering how well he had slept the night before. The evening had passed rather awkwardly, with both he and Hermione being very quiet and withdrawn from the Weasleys. Harry had found it very hard to look Ginny in the eye, afraid that one look from him would somehow enable her to guess the truth. As he lay in his fold-out bed in Ron's room looking at the fog-shrouded window his mind kept running over everything that had happened that afternoon. An entire year spent with Amortentia running through his veins, completely oblivious. It was awful enough to think that his emotions had been tampered with, and that because of that Ginny was a victim of sorts, but he couldn't help but wonder if it had also contributed to his failures last year. Would he have been able to concentrate more, had he not been so enamoured with Ginny? Would he have succeeded with silent spells and Occlumency? Would he have figured out Malfoy's plan in time, and been able to prevent Dumbledore's death and Bill's disfigurement?
The answer, he thought, was almost certainly no. But this line of thinking was just one of many things consuming his thoughts. Some of Kreacher's words troubled him deeply. "Kreacher makes him love another, makes him love wrong," the house-elf had said. Kreacher had implied that Harry's love for someone would be the key to defeating Voldemort, and it was clear now that Ginny was not that someone. Who was Kreacher talking about?
And, Harry thought fruitlessly as sleep finally began to claim him, why did he drug Hermione as well?
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