Author's Notes: This is going to be a long one, folks. Roller coastery, too. Brace yourselves. Much thanks to Lady Diamond, my beta-reader!
Standard disclaimers apply.
Chapter Rating: R
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Chapter Thirteenth: Exchange
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Harry felt someone nudge him with an elbow and he looked questioningly at Hermione.
She was, unfortunately, back in her clothes, but he supposed he preferred that she had her clothes on while they sat in the tiny manor hall occupying three of the many seats surrounding a great table. She still looked good, anyway, even if there were still eerie traces of regeneration evident on her face and hands.
The t-shirt she chose for the occasion was a big hit, meaning many of the members kept their distance, which was fine, because if those members weren't afraid, they'd likely be more blatantly unkind to her, as opposed to shooting her daggered looks.
Whatever whispering they had planned to do had been forestalled by Hermione's earlier warning of, "I can hear you."
To the Order's credit, quite a few approached her amicably, telling her that they had been saddened by the news of her death and that they were sorry about what happened to her parents. Harry could tell Hermione was trying to be as gentle with them as possible, so as not to frighten them.
The number of meeting attendees was not as many as Harry first thought. Harry had at least expected that all of the Weasley brothers would be there, especially Charlie, but it appeared they were out on their own missions. Harry didn't need to hear the details. Most of those they befriended in the last two days were aurors and healers; escorts to the more key members of the Order. There were few of them in the hall now, two of which Harry remembered as part of his advanced guard during the summer of his fifth year.
Mad-Eye Moody, whom Harry had seen hobbling about the manor and was now seated with them at the table, still hadn't spoken to him. He was probably still angry at Harry for kicking him off Hermione's interrogation. That was regrettable, but Hermione's welfare was still more important to him that Mad-Eye's opinion of him.
The meeting was just about to begin, the long table filled from end to end. Harry sat between Ron and Hermione and she was now shooting him a mildly reproachful look.
"What?" he whispered.
"Stop grinning!" she whispered back.
Harry was mildly surprised by this. "I'm grinning?"
"Like a fool," Ron interjected from the other side. "What are you so happy about, anyway?"
Had the best shag ever just about half an hour ago, you see. It's the sort of thing that puts a bloke in a good mood. He didn't say it out loud, though, even if he was dying to. Hermione was blushing and glaring at him by turns, so he supposed she didn't exactly feel like broadcasting what they had done in the dungeon.
"Happy? Me?" said Harry. "At a time like this?"
Ron nodded. "I concur. There isn't any food! Not even tea! And we call ourselves Englishmen…"
"Oh, hush, Ron!" hissed Hermione. "Act dignified! And Harry, do keep that grin in check. It's charming, yes, but you don't want to charm anyone right now. You want them to think that the Chosen One means business!"
"Ugh!" said Harry. "Just when I thought that nickname was a bad dream, you remind me it's real. How could you?"
"Don't be silly," she said, unaffectedly taking his arm and hugging it. "It'll come up in this meeting, I promise you. Look at them staring at you, wondering what the Chosen One's doing with the Vampire Bitch."
"Stop calling yourself that. Honestly, Hermione…"
Just then Draco was brought into the hall, escorted by Tonks.
Harry winced at his appearance. While they'd fixed his nose and probably his teeth, the bruising on his face remained and he looked a bit lopsided with the swelling of his cheek.
Hermione shot Harry a glare. "You didn't."
"Er… he fell on his face?"
She sighed. "Oh, Harry…"
Ron leaned over. "You should've seen him before the healer got to him. Like a butcher had tenderized him with a-"
"Not helping, Weasley," Harry said, stepping on his foot.
Hermione withdrew from his arm and sat with her arms crossed on her chest.
Harry sighed. "Hermione, don't be like that… I wasn't going to, but he said such awful things that provoked me."
She shot him a furious look before turning away.
"Great," muttered Harry, glaring at Ron. He didn't need these tiny disagreements with Hermione. Things were difficult enough with the bigger issues hanging over their heads.
Ron seemed surprised. "What'd I do?"
It seemed Mr. Teaspoon was back.
Draco was led to them and was made to sit on a nearby chair.
"And stay there," Tonks told him firmly.
"Wonderful," Ron muttered, exchanging exasperated glances with Harry.
Hermione made a face. "What is this, the teen corner? Why does he have to sit with us?"
"Because," said Tonks. "If there's anyone in this hall most willing to hex him for doing something stupid, it would be you three. Watch him. I've some last minute things to attend to."
"Fine," muttered Hermione.
"Happy to see me, Sunshine?" Draco said as Tonks left.
Hermione flipped her middle finger at him, her expression bland. "Ecstatic."
Ron laughed. Harry growled. Draco ignored them both as he continued to address Hermione.
"You look better. Almost threw up my lunch when I first saw you after the patronus."
"And you still look as sickening to me as the unfortunate day we met, Malfoy."
Draco shook his head as if hopelessly disgusted. "Potter, why do you put up with this woman? I know! Bet she gives good blow-"
Harry cut in with a glare. "Finish that sentence and I'll make what I did to you yesterday feel like a pat on the back."
Perhaps remembering the feel of Harry's fist on his face, Draco did find it in himself to shut his mouth.
Hermione seemed to reappraise her opinion about beating Draco by slightly bridging the distance between her and Harry.
The meeting was soon called to order and it began with Remus moving to give Harry a place on the board, which, of course, caused quite an uproar.
Harry would have slouched as low as he could go on his seat if Hermione hadn't dug her nails into his arm to straighten his posture.
Remus defended his motion by first saying how much of an inspiration Harry was to his generation, citing examples of his good influence.
Harry heard Draco snorting and almost laughed when Hermione shot him a fanged grimace that made Draco pale with fear.
Remus also said that Albus Dumbledore trusted no one else during his final days. He continued on by pointing out that Dumbledore entrusted Harry with the most vital information about Voldemort they have, to date, information that they have decided shall be privy to only a select group of Order members.
Someone from the back cried out that Dumbledore trusted Severus Snape and look where it got him.
Remus frowned. "That was Severus's failing, not Dumbledore's. Whatever reason Dumbledore had for trusting him, it was as enduring as the trust he had for you and me. Now, none of us could ever be sure about what Dumbledore's reasons were, but he trusted young Mr. Potter with his life. I'd certainly sleep better knowing we have Harry's insight on account."
Several more objections were raised, but much to Harry's surprise, he garnered support from others, vehemently claiming that while many of them were happily sleeping in their beds, blissfully unaware of You-Know-Who's return, Harry Potter was up and about, fighting the forces of evil on the side of good.
Ron nudged him and spoke in a low voice. "Next thing you know they'll be telling people you can pull lightning bolts out of your arse-crack."
"Or shoot laser beams from your bespectacled eyes," Draco added.
Harry always suspected that Draco knew more about muggle lore than the bigot was willing to let on. Harry was, however, still sore about Draco nicknaming Hermione. "Ron, did you hear something? I thought I heard something."
"Nope. Didn't hear a thing."
Good, dependable Ron.
Draco sneered. Hermione shot all three of them warning glares.
Several more debates arose, with Arthur Weasley having to pull out a signed parchment with the signatures of Bill, Charlie, Fred and George giving their unconditional support to Harry's election.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Cue the sweeping musical score and it's a fucking theatrical masterpiece."
Hermione exchanged looks with Ron, who appeared to be mortified. There really was nothing to say that could justify the melodrama.
Harry tried to make light of it by grinning. "I bet your mum made them sign it."
"Who else?"
After much discussion, and much to Remus's and Arthur's consternation, it was decided that the board had to vote unanimously on Harry's appointment. Remus, Arthur and McGonagall were sure votes, but Shacklebolt was part of the board, too.
"Shite," Hermione whispered. "Shacklebolt won't let you sit on the board. I just know it."
Harry shrugged. It was all the same to him. He might prefer to be off the board, anyway. "If it makes him happy, then so be it."
It turned out that Shacklebolt did vote for Harry, and that he had done so of his own volition. Harry was very confused. So was Remus and Arthur, but far be it they'd question Shacklebolt's reasons.
Harry caught Shacklebolt's eye and was half-astonished when Shacklebolt gave him a dignified but congenial nod. Harry had no choice but to nod back, though he wasn't sure what they were agreeing on, exactly. It was all very overwhelming to him. What was he supposed to do now?
To his horror, Remus seemed to answer his question by pulling a chair up between him and McGonagall.
"Good lord, I think he wants me to sit there," said Harry to Hermione in a panicked tone. He didn't want to sit beside McGonagall, not that she was a horrible person, but if he was going to be on some board, he wanted to be near the people he loved, like Hermione and Ron, not his former Headmistress. He still cringed every time McGonagall said his name, half-expecting that she would deduct fifty house points from Gryffindor and give him detention.
"You'll be fine," said Hermione soothingly.
Remus beckoned to him.
Oh, I knew it! he thought frantically. Why do I have to sit there, anyway? What difference does it make? It's a table for Merlin's sake.
"Harry…" Hermione said in a warning tone when he didn't budge. "Don't be difficult."
Ron smirked. "All you have to do is sit there and brood. You're good at brooding, aren't you?"
"Shut up, Ron."
Hermione waved at Ron dismissively. "Harry, don't listen to him. Just go sit there and do what comes natural. Don't worry about saying something stupid. When you do, I'll cover for you."
"Your confidence in me is inspiring."
Draco's lip curled. "Baffling, for me."
She ignored the Slytherin, trying her best to straighten Harry's rumpled t-shirt. "You'll be fine. You always are." With that, she practically pushed him out of his chair so he could get to the new one.
Harry righted himself with as much dignity he could muster under the circumstances and took his place beside Remus. The dozens of eyes on him was unnerving, but he focused on the Hermione and Ron's reassuring presence. Draco's disgusted scowl made him feel oddly empowered.
Draco's disposition was brought up. Officially, he was under the custody of the Auror Department for conspiring to murder Albus Dumbledore and for abetting known Death Eaters in their attempted siege of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But the motive for his crimes (to preserve the lives of his parents) and his subsequent surrender, as well as his voluntary statements with respect to vital information, mitigates his offenses. There will be a reckoning, but as long as he proved useful to the cause, he would exist on probationary status, with every opportunity to redeem himself. If he behaved himself enough, he might not even have to go to Azkaban.
"In the meantime," said Shacklebolt. "We need a place to hide him. Minerva and I have discussed a few possible places. At first we thought of Hogwarts, but there are too many students there who would-"
"He can-erm-stay in my place," said Harry before he could think better of it. I knew it. I've gone mad.
The entire room fell silent and Harry only then begun to feel panic at their undivided attention.
He chanced a glance at Hermione and Ron.
Ron looked like he was going to throw up. Hermione merely had her eyebrow raised for a few heartbeats before she nodded.
Thus empowered, Harry went on, stifling his awkwardness. "S-See, it's working out the way it is, anyway, and it's almost as secure as Hogwarts without having to worry about students stumbling in on him inadvertently. Besides, he saved my life. I at least owe the bugger-" He blushed at McGonagall's disapproving stare. "Pardon me… I owe him sanctuary."
He met Draco's silver-grey eyes. Draco showed no emotion, but he wasn't sneering either.
Harry waited for what everyone else had to say.
"That sounds reasonable," said Arthur.
General agreement rippled through the hall and it was agreed that Draco Malfoy would be put up in Harry Potter's home, the duration of which a representative of the Auror Department would take regular shifts doing nothing but seeing to Draco's good behavior.
With Draco's accommodations settled, the Order went on to discuss the increased frequency of attacks on muggles, on the forefront of which was the Granger murders.
Harry looked to Hermione with much concern and was relieved to note that Ron had taken the initiative to sit by her and hold her hand. She looked calm enough, and Ron's presence seemed to reassure her.
Vampires were brought up, and seeing as there was one with them right now, no one questioned that at least one had joined on Voldemort's side.
"We've made little headway on the matter of vampire contacts," said Remus wearily. "As most of us know, they're a notoriously closed off society. They want little to nothing to do with humans and they don't trust us in the slightest. It's difficult, and we've found that they conspire to confuse us, rather than give us information and be done with us. It's almost impossi-"
"The vampire in Voldemort's service," said Hermione. "He has an agenda all his own. He does not yet have the support of his kind. The upper echelons of vampire society do not approve of his affiliation with the Death Eaters, but he has something that Voldemort wants, which is why Voldemort hasn't killed him."
Harry stared at her, utterly perplexed. How did she know this? How long has she known this?
"Where did you get this information, Granger?" McGonagall asked.
"From a reliable source," was all Hermione said. "A powerful vampire. I tried to get more information out of her but she caught on to me almost immediately. She said she might give me more information if I… gave her what she wanted. I couldn't accept the deal. The price was too high."
McGonagall exchanged looks with the rest of the board. Harry kept staring at Hermione. She suddenly wouldn't meet his eyes. What was she hiding?
"Can you contact her again?" Shacklebolt asked.
Hermione smirked bitterly. "Oh, yes. That I can do, but if you want me to summon her just so I could try to get her to tell me more… don't count on it. I've a notion she's not the accommodating type. Perhaps I can… try. Though I don't know if she'll let me live through it…"
The entire group stared at her, probably wondering if she was serious. Ron, who was nearest to her, had pulled back, as if to regard her from afar. She remained still, making no retractions to her statement.
Shacklebolt spoke. "Not her, then. Other vampires? Surely you might get other vampires to trust you. They're your kind."
Hermione's cheek twitched, but she replied. "It's a bit more complicated than that. It isn't like I can just walk into a vampire bar and ask the bartender what the word is out on the street. It doesn't work that way. Vampires function in covens and hives and by affiliation. Every vampire must be accounted for by a faction, or else they're free game. So an unaffiliated vampire could be used, abused or just plain ignored. I'm unaffiliated. I won't get very far. My best chance is with the woman, but as I've said, it's not much of a chance, even if I give her what she wants. She's too ruthless to be easy."
"What does she want?" Harry asked before he realized that he might not like the answer.
Hermione did not avert her gaze from him. "Something I don't want to give her."
Harry bristled and was already thinking he would talk to her later. It would lead to a fight, naturally. He could already tell she didn't want to talk about it, and talk about her vampirism always set her off, but if she was talking to powerful and dangerous vampires in secret, he wanted to know why she didn't feel like sharing this important fact with him.
That little voice in his head told him that this was the perfect chance to show Hermione that he was serious about giving her space, but he ignored it. Actually, he murdered it and stashed its corpse in a secret corner of his mind.
"You will share the information once you know more?" asked Shacklebolt.
"Of course."
Harry couldn't tell if she sounded offended. Maybe she was. Shacklebolt was treating her like an outsider.
More information was exchanged between the attendees; information that many had risked their lives to retrieve. There were rumors about Death Eater meetings, evidence that particular individuals were Death Eaters and whispers about who might be lending them a hand. The purpose of the meeting was to report this information to the governing board so that the board can later decide on what to do about it. Parchments were handed over to Remus, Shacklebolt, McGonagall and Arthur. Remus then told the whole congregation that he would share his copy with Harry. It was meant to show everyone that he was serious about making Harry part of the board.
Harry appreciated the support but he was always quite awkward when it came to handling attention, except maybe when he was being chased by dragons, pushed into lakes filled with merpeople and made to walk into a giant labyrinth, mostly because he was more concerned about saving his own arse.
Remus then brought up a most interesting point: Recruitment. "Harry's generation has come of age," he said.
Predictably, McGonagall reacted. "Out of the question. The seventh years must finish school."
"I completely agree, and most of them still need time to mature, but I'd rather that they use their time in school to understand what they're getting into rather than have them leave Hogwarts and join the Order on impulse, just because they think it's what's expected of them."
McGonagall frowned. "I understand where you are coming from, Remus, but my school is not an army training camp-"
"It was, at a certain point," interjected Remus. "In Harry's fifth year, he taught a group of students how to defend themselves. He even called it an army. Dumbledore's Army."
McGonagall sighed. "It's not the same. That wasn't sanctioned-"
"Wasn't it?"
The Headmistress actually blushed. "Well, not officially."
"Semantics."
"Besides," Hermione said. "Death Eaters don't seem to mind making the house of Slytherin a breeding ground for their minions."
Draco smirked. "I knew you understood, Sunshine."
She gave him a saccharine smile. "Drop dead, Malfoy."
McGonagall's lips tightened for a heartbeat. "Slytherin House is not a-"
"Come now, Minerva," said Hestia Jones with a sigh. "It's always been that way. We know it and they know it. A straight-laced Slytherin is an odd Slytherin. Even the 'good' ones couldn't help but have an agenda or two."
McGonagall turned to her co-chairs. "And if I agree to sanction this propaganda, how do you plan on going about it?"
"Nothing radical," said Remus. "I'd rather keep it low key. Perhaps if you can give us a list of students who would fit the profile of an Order member-"
"I can give you names right now," said Harry. The pointed stares that darted in his direction startled him still. "If you like…"
"Go on, then, Potter," said Shacklebolt. "We haven't got all night."
Harry recomposed himself. "Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones…" He went on and didn't mind in the least that Arthur had produced a quill and parchment to write as he droned on. "Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Ernie McMillan, Katie Bell, Cho Chang, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein…. I think Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson have been helping the twins on the side, but that's just a guess. If I'm right, I'd think it would do the Order a lot of good if they were made official."
"How about Justin Finch-Fletchley?" asked Arthur.
"Put him on the waiting list," said Harry automatically. "Cormac McLaggen, too. He's a prat, but he might grow up and be useful in the future. Whatever you do, don't take Marietta Edgecombe. Waitlist the Patil sisters, Alicia Spinnet, Zacharias Smith and Lavender Brown."
Harry realized that he had gone through the entire list of the DA excluding Michael Corner, the Creevy brothers, Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood. Michael Corner was a git and would never be an Order member unless Harry saw a change in his priorities. The Creevy brothers, Ginny and Luna were under-aged, but they would likely insist on joining as soon as they turned seventeen, unless of course Molly Weasley had a say in what her youngest child chose to do with her life.
McGonagall's eyebrow arched. "No Slytherins, I see."
"Well, we can punish Draco and make him an Order member," Harry said as-a-matter-of-factly.
"I'd rather get arse-raped by Colin Creevy," Draco said, to the absolute shock of McGonagall and a few of the older members present.
Hermione shot him a glare. "Colin's gay, not desperate."
"Pfft!" said Draco. "Colin's been wanting to get into my pants forever. Couldn't blame him. I mean, look at me."
"Right. You might want to put some ice over your face, Malfoy. It's swelling."
"Mr. Malfoy! Ms. Granger!" gasped McGonagall, probably having a stroke at watching her star pupil engaging in very bad behavior.
"Creevy's gay?" Ron whispered. He wasn't very quiet about it, even if he thought he was.
"I thought everyone knew," replied Hermione in an attempt to whisper more softly. "He sort of did a low-key coming out thing by making a habit out of wearing really pink socks."
"Well, he did seem to have an odd thing for Harry. Should've known it when he sent Harry's photo back in that frilly, home-made picture frame. Those paper hearts really make sense now… say, was he the one who sent that valentine to Harry in second year?"
Oh, brother, thought Harry as, again, everyone's eyes fell on him appraisingly. He would've kicked Ron under the table if he could reach.
"I hate to break up this gossip session," said Shacklebolt with a stern frown. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to talk about how we're going to enlighten these recruits."
"There's a way to immerse them without actually putting them in danger," said Hestia Jones. "Some of them can assist in caring for those injured in the line of duty. A lot of Order members are, after all, brought to Hogwarts for healing. The students can also be asked to do research… help make the more useful potions… keep them updated about what's happening in the war, in general."
Remus nodded. "And at some point, Harry would have to talk to them himself."
Harry stifled a sigh, but apart from having to go back to Hogwarts, it really wasn't a problem talking to his former classmates. He supposed explaining Hermione's situation would be the easy part; telling them they had to eventually risk their lives to do their part was where the difficulty was.
Everyone else suggested several others for recruitment. It fell upon each of them to bring these individuals in.
The congregation moved on to interrogating Draco Malfoy.
Everyone had prepared questions for Draco and if they thought Draco would be an easy subject, they were mistaken. While Draco had agreed to give them as much information as he could, he was determined to disparage every single one of them with his quick and scathing wit in the process. When he was asked about Snape's whereabouts, he replied that he wasn't Snape's keeper, and that they weren't smart enough to catch him if Snape didn't want to be found. He was asked about his father, an his mother, to which he said that his dad took up residence in Azkaban because he could walk in and out of it anyway, whenever he felt like it. He even managed to imply that McGonagall and Dumbledore got it on in the broom closet, much to McGonagall's consternation. But then he became less and less funny. He began to hiss insidious intrigues and damnably scandalous possibilities, as if he could peer into a person's soul and find those dark, suppressed desires and expose it for everyone else to see. He was his father's son, after all.
However much of a coward Harry thought Draco was, he knew how to sow distrust among fellowmen. He really was dangerous.
Perhaps finally having enough of him, Shacklebolt ordered Tonks to escort Draco back to his detention cell.
"Oh, and Tonks…" said Shacklebolt. "Obliviate him of tonight's proceedings."
Harry smirked.
Draco visibly seethed but did not throw a fit. Outraged but dignified, he let himself be escorted out of the hall with Tonks expertly behind him.
Harry could almost feel the entire room breathing a sigh of relief when Draco left. Draco Malfoy knew exactly how to make a person uncomfortable; a master at spotting weakness and using it to his advantage. Harry, Ron and Hermione had been dealing with him for years, so they more or less knew how to handle his barbed words, but everyone else in the room hadn't had that benefit.
"I don't care what he does for the Order. He should be locked up in Azkaban forever," Ron muttered. "He's a creep."
"Psychic vampire," Hermione remarked with a raise of her eyebrow.
Elphias Doge, sitting at the far end of the group, nodded. "Dangerous lad. We'll not take our eyes off that one."
"Constant vigilance!"
It had only been a matter of time, really, before Mad-Eye came out with the words.
Finally, after they exhausted discussion about Draco's testimony, Shacklebolt brought up the last order of business.
"We come to the matter of Ms. Granger's non-death, as the case may be," he said in a somewhat bothered tone. "The papers have reported her dead and as far as most of the wizarding world is concerned, she is. As a lot of you just found out, she's very much… with us right now."
The careful wording was not lost on Harry and it annoyed him a bit. Hermione, however, didn't seem to take any offense. She shouldered the burden of weighted gazes with admirable dignity, staring back with only a hint of her ferocious nature.
Shacklebolt continued. "The reality of the situation is this. Ms. Granger's death shook the wizarding populace, simply because she is known to be so close to Harry Potter, and as the story goes, Harry Potter is supposedly some kind messiah that can make miracles happen. To have one so dear to him killed makes the entire situation seem futile. In short, news of Ms. Granger's death was a blow to the people's morale."
Harry felt half-indignant-half-inadequate, though he didn't know if he ought to direct his feelings to Shacklebolt, who looked almost as annoyed as Harry felt.
"If we let everyone think that she is dead, the effects of it will take its natural course and perhaps give us some kind of advantage, whatever it is. We have reason to suspect that only a select few of You-Know-Who's followers know she was turned. However low the morale of the people is, at present, it seems that admitting Ms. Granger is alive but turned might make the situation worse, not to mention the media backlash of the Ministry and Harry Potter harboring a vampire."
Harry bristled. "Excuse me?"
"Harry," Hermione said in a warning tone. She had her hand on Ron's arm whose shoulders had gone tense. Perhaps Ron was outraged as well.
Harry was just about to tell her that he wasn't going to sit by and listen to this rubbish when Remus clamped a hand to his shoulder.
"Kingsley is merely stating fact," said Remus with astonishing calmness. "We-" He paused briefly to appraise those present. "Well, at least most of us-don't think it's fair, either, but it is what it is. Dark creatures get the worse end of the deal, no matter who we are. When you think about it, Hermione could lead a better life without the press hounding her or the masses demanding for her execution."
Harry never had an issue about keeping Hermione's situation a secret from everyone. It was, in fact, for the very reasons Remus stated that he prefer her turning not be made the Daily Prophet's next headline. It just angered him that some of the members would choose to keep her secret for the more outrageous reasons that Shacklebolt just stated.
He said nothing, however, heeding the silent plea of Hermione and Remus.
A vote was raised about whether Hermione's true status, whether she would be kept secret or whether her true condition ought to be revealed. It was a unanimous vote to keep her secret. She had gone through enough. A media blitz would do no one good, least of all Hermione.
Harry knew Hermione was conflicted about revealing the truth. On the one hand, she probably agreed with the opinion of the board but on another hand, she didn't want people she cared about grieving for her loss.
He thought maybe he could ask Remus if they could at least tell Hagrid about Hermione. The gentle giant deserved to know the truth, but Harry had to consider the fact that Hagrid wasn't the most reliable secret keeper.
With the matter of Hermione's status settled, the meeting was declared adjourned.
Harry joined Hermione and Ron as they headed for the doors. Midway, they were intercepted by Remus, asking them how they were doing; whether they felt better for their injuries.
It took everything in Harry's power not think about how well he and Hermione were while they were in her dungeon. He was so busy trying to make a casual reply about restful sleep doing a lot of good that he hadn't quite noticed that Remus had led them down an out-of the-way hallway. Only then did it occur to Harry that Remus was more interested in dragging them somewhere private without anyone asking questions than he was overly concerned about their health.
Remus led them down another secluded hallway where they were met by McGonagall.
Ron turned green. "I swear, whatever it is, we didn't do it!"
Hermione scowled. "Ron!"
Harry couldn't entirely blame him for his inane outburst. McGonagall had been a fair Head of House to them all their years in Hogwarts, but nine times out of ten, McGonagall summoned them because they were either in trouble or something very bad had happened. Since the worse had already happened and they seemed to be nowhere near getting bad news about the Weasleys, Ron's natural assumption was that they were in deep shit.
As it turned out, they weren't in any more trouble than they already were.
In one of the many manor chambers, they settled on the dusty furniture where McGonagall asked them about what they knew concerning horcruxes.
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McGonagall proved to be an astute a listener as Remus was. She was quick, perceptive and of course, horrified. It took them longer to discuss horcruxes now, because somehow-somewhere-, between Hermione's return from St. Mungo's to the present, she had managed to amass far more information from her limited resources than it could have provided for anyone else. There was, of course, no primary material that explained horcruxes, per se, but the wealth of theory she had built up, derived from primary and secondary material of indirect subject matter, was astounding. She didn't have her research notes on hand, but she spoke of it by memory, often saying that she found this footnote, or that cross-reference, or those citations, which led her to several relevant pieces of information.
No matter how intelligent Harry knew Hermione was, he still couldn't get over how brilliant she could be.
The Headmistress seemed to take it better. McGonagall listened intently, interrupting once in a while to argue or expound on a point. Harry found himself listening just as raptly as Remus was. Ron just looked constipated.
When there was, it seemed, nothing left to discuss, their secret meeting was adjourned.
Remus made it clear that only he, McGonagall and Arthur knew about the horcruxes. Should someone else need to be told of it to further the search for the missing objects, they shall be told bits and pieces of information on a strictly need to know basis.
Arthur was keeping Shacklebolt busy for the moment with Ministry business. While Shacklebolt could be depended on to do things for all the right reasons, his reasons still might not coincide with theirs.
The rule was: The less people who knew about Voldemort's horcruxes, the better.
McGonagall promised that she would pool her resources into aiding the search, including finding any material available on the subject.
The meeting over, McGonagall left the chamber first, then Remus. Harry, Hermione and Ron followed at their leisure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was at least another seven hours before sunrise and while a few Order members had opted to stay in the manor, there were a few already poised to leave.
Given the time, there was plenty of darkness yet for Hermione to travel safely, though the decision to leave was hers to make.
Hermione thought there was little point in staying at the manor, safety concerns aside. "I think we should head off," she said. "There's nothing left to do here and the traveling won't take us more than five hours. We can make it."
She saw Harry looking at her speculatively; an expression of his that she knew well. She felt that familiar feeling of irritability when he did that; that thing he did when he was taking it upon himself again to protect her.
Stifling any biting comments, she reminded herself of Remus's words: "It's a gift."
Sighing, she packed her things without a word.
They were heading out of the manor soon after they decided to leave it. The first few kilometers required them to travel by foot since the wards around the manor prevented anything else. There was a time when they would have had horses, or a carriage, but nobody had any spare horses these days.
Their party was the same as before: Tonks, Draco, Shacklebolt and Remus.
Draco was back to being tethered, and he was doubly cranky for not remembering the last several hours of the day.
"The choice is yours, Malfoy," said Tonks in a calm, grown-up tone. "You can either be tethered to me or you can be tethered to Ron or Harry."
Draco gave a snort of disgust. "Some choice."
"I'm waiting, Malfoy."
His beautiful smile was filled with malice. "Can't I be tethered to Granger? Give me something to call a patronus with next time, don't you think so, Potter?"
Hermione almost sighed in exasperation when she saw Harry's fists curling. She had figured out Draco long ago, but it was only now she realized how much fun Draco had riling either Harry or Ron up. Her boys always rose to the bait, and it was just the sort of thing that would encourage Draco.
"I'll take him, Tonks," said Harry dangerously. "He won't be any trouble."
Tutting, Hermione took Harry by the arm and began to lead him ahead. "No, Tonks. I think Draco best go with you."
"Aw, Sunshine! Worried about me again?"
"Yes, like the plague I'm worried about you," she replied as she walked off with Harry on one arm and Ron on another.
"Fine! Leave me here!" Draco cried out. She could hear the grin in his tone. "You should use this time to share all the secrets you've been keeping from Potter! Makes for a better relationship, I think!"
Hermione felt Harry go tense and Hermione almost rounded on Draco just so should could run back and hit him.
That insidious prick! He was just so good at striking at the very pit of a person's soul, and she had to marvel at the fact that Draco had probably pulled that crack from the depths of his subconscious memories considering he was supposed to have been obliviated of that evening's meeting. Draco was probably trying to imply that they had an affair of sorts, and that she had to tell Harry about it, but she knew Harry would take it differently. She knew Harry would be thinking about the other secrets she'd been keeping from him, like who she'd been talking to when he wasn't around.
"We'll meet at rendezvous point!" Remus called to them as they trudged through the bramble. "Try to stay on the charmed path!"
Harry still looked steamed long after the sounds of their travel party were left behind.
In an effort to get him out of his snit, Hermione decided to point out that they were way off the supposed charmed path that Remus had told them to stay on.
At that, Harry rounded on her. "Why do you let him call you that?"
Hermione stopped in her tracks, staring at Harry in shock as he walked a few paces ahead of her. She wasn't sure whom Harry was talking about. "Excuse me?"
He glared. "That nickname! You stand around and tolerate it! And when he says something snarky, you get right back at him with something just as smart-arsed! It's like you enjoy matching wits with him."
"Harry!" she cried, too astonished to get angry. She already accepted that Harry was the jealous type, but Draco? "You don't really think I-I did something with that rodent did you?"
"Mate," said Ron cautiously. "I probably shouldn't be sticking my nose into this but you're being a bit unreasonable. Hermione and Malfoy? That's just insulting."
Harry had the grace to blush, but he didn't look like he was going to be appeased anytime soon. "Alright, so that's not what I think, but for once, Draco Malfoy's made me realize something. You've got secrets and you're deliberately keeping them from me."
"Well, it wouldn't be a secret if I told you about it, would it?" she said loftily.
His jaw tightened. "Don't get smart with me. You know what I mean. Who have you been talking to and what has she been telling you?"
She came up short and she hardened her expression. "I already told you who she is and what she told me."
"You shared relevant information with the congregation, but you're holding something back. Don't lie to me, Hermione. You can't. I know you too well!"
"It isn't the first time I've kept secrets from you, you know!"
"Oh, yes, the time turner! You're just a hand at keeping secrets from your best friends!"
Ron made a sound. "Alright, you two, please don't fight."
Harry made a dismissive gesture in his direction and narrowed his gaze at Hermione. "You're going to tell me right now who this woman you've been talking to is and what it is she wants from you that's so valuable."
Hermione felt her vampire eyes flashing. "Oh, am I going to tell you, oh fearless leader?"
"Don't you take that tone with me. Sod the Order and their governing board! This is your best friend, who just happens to be your boyfriend, asking you!"
She glared back at him stubbornly. "I don't have to tell you anything. You said you would back-off, Harry. You promised that we would try it that way."
"Well, you know what? Maybe I'm not quite so ready to do it that way. Maybe I was randy and I wasn't thinking straight!"
"Oh, anything to get me in the sack, is it? D'you like shagging me in the dungeon, Harry?"
"You guys!" Ron wailed. "Stop! You don't know what you're saying!"
"Do you know what our problem is, Harry?" she went on. "We shag to forget that we've got problems. Big problems."
"Oh, funny you should say that. I'm not the one talking to powerful, short-tempered vampires and keeping that fact secret from everyone else. So yeah, we've got big problems."
"Look, I can't tell you every little thing that pops up in my life-"
"Little thing? Are you mad? D'you think you can just put this away in a little drawer in your organized mind along with silly issues like what you're going to wear tomorrow or cleaning out the pantry?"
"Jesus Christ, Harry! Was I ever this much of a nag?"
"Yeah, actually," Ron interjected.
"Shut-up, Ron," Harry hissed.
"Don't talk to him that way!" Hermione hissed back. "He's only trying to help!"
"He's not even supposed to be in this conversation! What the hell are you defending him for?"
Ron shot him a scowl but said, "He's right, Hermione. I'll just be over-"
"You stay RIGHT HERE!" she yelled stubbornly. "Ron's always been there for the both of us and we always take him for granted! So he's staying now and seeing where all this is going. Besides, with him here, we won't be shagging anytime soon, now would we?"
"Hermione," Ron stammered uncertainly. "I don't think-"
"Oh, you know what I think?" interjected Harry. "I think you're just being contrary and impossible!"
"Ron," she said loftily, ignoring Harry's last statement. "You're important to us. Right, Harry?"
Ron clearly didn't know what to do. He stood there, looking like he was about to be sick as Harry glared at him.
"Right," said Harry in a dangerous tone. "Important. Do you feel better now, Ron?"
"Yes?" Ron squeaked.
"Excellent!" Harry thundered, glaring at Hermione. "Then Hermione could stop trying to change the fucking subject!"
Ron paled.
Hermione grit her teeth. "Be careful what you wish for, Harry…"
"What are you talking about? We're in a relationship! Not a bloody soap opera!"
"You two..." whimpered Ron. "Please don't fight like this. It's not you. You're supposed to be Harry and Hermione, remember? You finish each other's sentences! You talk with your eyes. Come on…"
"You know what?" Hermione said in a condemning tone. "I don't know what we are anymore."
Harry's breath hitched.
She had hurt him. They were the only two people who could really hurt each other after all.
Shaking her head, she turned to continue walking. "I can't talk about this right now. We're in the middle of a bloody forest and I-"
She froze, a deep sense of doom spreading through her. She should have felt the presence of others. She should have known they were no longer alone, but she had been so consumed with anger that she hadn't realized it until it was too late.
She pivoted to her side just when another body came crashing against her, ramming her back against the gnarled trunk of a nearby tree.
Silver spots danced in her eyes as she was held several inches off the ground by her neck.
She wasn't choking, but she was in no position to fight back.
The hand holding her was as solid as iron, and as her vision cleared, she saw the familiar glare of gleaming golden eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ron couldn't believe how quickly it was all happening. One heartbeat Hermione and Harry were yelling at each other and the next moment he had his gaze transfixed on some odd movement in the brush.
Before he could muster a warning, something had come out of the darkness and attacked Hermione.
He pulled out his wand just a heartbeat after Harry did, but there were eight uncloaked Death Eaters upon them, half focused on them and half on Hermione.
Ron could tell they were shocked by her presence. They, like most people, had thought her dead. To see her alive and walking must have been dreadfully surreal.
But he hardly cared that he and Harry were surrounded. His attention was transfixed on Hermione and her captor, holding her so carelessly against the tree.
He didn't know that many vampires. In fact, he only knew two, but one look at the stranger and Ron knew the man was a vampire. He was everything a vampire should be if ever there was an example to be had. His short black hair had tints of red shining in the dim moonlight, a sharp contrast to the alabaster paleness of his skin. He was tall, lithe and graceful even as he held Hermione in the brutal force of his grip.
Hermione whimpered and Ron could see blood seeping from her neck where the stranger's nails dug into her flesh.
"Get your hands off her!" Harry roared, surging forward.
If the Death Eaters hadn't held Harry back and kneed him in the gut, Ron might have done it for them. Ron wasn't going to let Harry attack that thing. It looked powerful, and lethal. Harry wouldn't have survived it.
Harry crumpled to the ground, rasping painfully as the air was punched out of him. But even so manhandled, Harry managed to glare viciously up at the man who held her. "Janus…"
Oh, hell no… thought Ron in rising despair while the Death Eaters took their wands. Out of all the vampires… why did it have to be him?
Ron had almost lost Hermione to this fiend. He wasn't going to risk losing Harry as well. He crouched by Harry, gripping him by his shoulders. "Shut up, Potter!" he hissed.
Janus wasn't paying them that much mind. He had his gaze on Hermione, and he was smiling his fanged smile. Ron could have sworn it was filled with pride and affection.
He tossed Hermione to the ground and she skidded to the forest floor with astounding grace.
Janus chuckled softly, his voice lulling and warm. "Is that fear you have for me, my pet?"
Hermione didn't reply, her gaze remaining on Janus as he circled her.
The whisper of steel did not bode well. The vampire had taken out a sword from the scabbard at his back. What was he going to use it for?
Harry choked on a skipped breath. "It's the sword," he breathed. "He-He killed her with that sword."
"Oh, bloody hell…" Ron muttered, glancing around them to assess their situation. It wasn't looking the least bit encouraging.
"Give me your wand," Janus told her in an undemanding voice. He held out his hand, beckoning gently.
She glared at him, refusing by doing nothing.
Janus smiled, again with that ghost of fondness lingering in his eyes. "Give me your wand."
Even Ron felt the pulse of power. Hermione was not immune to it.
The defiance on her face was belied only by the handing over of her wand.
Janus took it and examined it reverently. "You are a conjurer, just as I suspected. I knew what I was doing when I created you." He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.
Ron felt his gorge rise. The thought that this creature was touching her so tenderly made him sick. He could only imagine what Harry must be feeling.
Harry made a sound, like he wanted to scream, but he remained silent, watching it all with barely veiled outrage.
Janus looked up at Harry, regarding him with some amusement. "A part of her will always be mine, you know. She is a child of my blood. I made her. Only I have the right to unmake her."
Ron did not like the sound of that.
Harry growled. "If you hurt her again-"
Ron dug his nails into Harry's shoulder. Shut the fuck up, Potter!
"I won't," said Janus, hefting his sword a bit higher. "It will be quick. She won't feel a thing."
"Oh, God," Ron whispered.
"No," Harry said. "No! This isn't about her! This is about me! I'll go with you to Voldemort willingly! Just don't-"
"I was not sent here for you," said Janus in the softest tone.
It caught all of them, even the Death Eaters, by surprise.
"I'm not afraid to die," said Hermione, her voice cutting through the tension. "I've done it before. Don't know what the fuss is about."
Ron gasped, horrified. "Hermione!"
The sound of Janus's laughter rippled against them like fur. "So vampiric. And in just three short weeks."
"I'm a quick study," she said. "And really, what's so hard about sleeping all day and partying all night? It's easy to be a vampire."
What the hell is she doing? Ron thought, panicked. Is she doing this on purpose?
Hope blossomed in Ron's gut. Maybe Hermione had a plan. It certainly sounded like it.
Janus extended his sword and for a breathless moment, Ron thought he was going to run the blade right into her throat, but Janus merely used the tip of the sword to lift her chin. "You've been burned."
"Patronus."
"Oh, dear. That must have hurt like a bitch."
"Like a woman scorned, actually."
Janus stared at her with what Ron thought looked a lot like sadness. "I do not want to kill you. You are destined for great things. The Oracle only ever summons those who are…"
"Well, we don't always get what we want, do we?" she hissed.
Ron wanted to pull his hair out. His best friends were beyond mental! They had death wishes.
Why is she antagonizing him?
Janus raised his sword in magnificent stance, poised behind Hermione's kneeling form.
She closed her eyes.
Ron couldn't think. There was a vague sense of Harry screaming beside him, and if Ron had any control over his faculties at all, he might have been screaming just as fiercely.
She's supposed to have a plan, dammit! Where's the fucking plan?!
And just when Ron saw the sword arcing to slice through her neck, Hermione dove to the forest floor.
The clash of steel rang throughout the forest, a pure note hanging in the air like a bell in full toll.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione looked up from her vantage point on the ground and saw fabulously long legs propped up in front of her. They were exquisitely shaped, tapering into knee high hiking boots. The entire ensemble sprung from decency-defying short shorts.
Yasmin was in fantastic form, holding Janus's sword back without the slightest hint of effort.
Janus swore viciously before jumping back to a safe distance.
The Death Eaters made a motion to move but Janus yelled at them to stay still.
"Fools!" he hissed. "D'you think she's alone?"
On cue, vampires emerged from the darkness surrounding them, some of them dropping gracefully from the trees overhead. There were a dozen, among which Hermione only recognized two: Abraham and Rashad.
"Took you long enough!" Hermione hissed at Yasmin before she could think better of it.
Yasmin's melodic laughter danced in the air. "Oh, I had to decide which pair of boots matched this outfit best. It was either this pair or another Prada concoction that was divine. But they weren't broken in yet, so I chose these. You like?"
Hermione glared up at her. "You are a sick and twisted-"
"Oh, hush. I'm here, aren't I?" Yasmin turned prettily, lifting her sword in proper form without losing the flirtatious lilt to her shoulder. She looked to the Death Eaters surrounding Harry and Ron.
The two boys were gaping at Yasmin like she was some dark veela, and Hermione didn't even want to think about what effect Yasmin's spectacular cleavage was having on them. It wasn't the time to be jealous, after all.
"They're Death Eaters, am I right?" Yasmin chimed, winking at Ron.
Gulping, Ron nodded.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"And aren't they such a bother?" Yasmin grinned before transferring her gaze to her vampires. "Take those Death Eaters and kill them."
Hermione closed her eyes for a heartbeat. There was nothing she could do to stop the massacre, yet deep down inside her, she didn't feel quite as outraged about it as she probably should have been.
Ron and Harry's shock was evident, but it was lost in a sea of terrified screams as the Death Eaters were whisked into the bushes and silenced forever.
Picking herself off the forest floor, Hermione went to her boys. Gently, she slipped her arms around Harry who looked far too pale than was good for him.
Harry embraced back, but she could tell he was just too dazed to do anything else.
"Hermione," Ron whispered. "Who the bloody hell is that? And-And where did all these vampires come from?"
Her reply was forestalled by Yasmin's enticing voice. "Well, Janus. You're alone and surrounded. I'm dying to know… what are you going to do about it?"
Janus didn't seem afraid. "If I were so easy to take, you would have done so already. Your instructions are to take me, not kill me, and yet I'm not going with you alive. The question is What are you going to do about it?"
"Hmm… let's see. Well, I suppose I'm just going to have to try."
Yasmin attacked and their swords came together in a spectacular and lightning-fast exchange.
"We should go," Hermione said, taking Harry and Ron by the hand to lead them.
Vampires closed in on their tight group, Rashad heading the pack.
"Umm, Hermione?" Ron muttered nervously.
"Quiet, Ron!" Harry hissed.
Hermione glared at Rashad amidst the sound of clashing steel. "Let us go, Rashad."
"You know him by name?" Ron squeaked.
Harry shot Ron a wide-eyed glare.
Rashad shrugged. "Yasmin told us to detain you. You can try to get away and we probably won't hurt you, but we'll hurt your boys."
Her heart skipped a beat and she felt Harry and Ron go tense, their hands growing cold in an instant.
"You wouldn't," she hissed ferociously.
Rashad shrugged again, unimpressed. She already knew that would be his answer. Vampires didn't bluff.
Hermione felt Harry and Ron's grip loosening as vampires took them from her. Their struggles were futile.
She gritted her teeth, eyes flashing at the vampires who held them. "Let them go."
"Yasmin only wants a few minutes of your time. It's the least you can do. She saved your lives."
Hermione's gaze went from the vampires surrounding them to Yasmin and Janus exchanging swords in the distance to Harry and Ron. She sighed and nodded. "Fine. But let it be noted that I don't appreciate this kind of bullying. I don't care if she's the all powerful Yasmin. She's still on my shit list."
Harry and Ron were released and the vampires surrounding them stepped away, moving back to give them room.
"Hermione," said Harry in a quiet tone. "What the hell is going on?"
Hermione's attention was diverted to the clearing where Yasmin and Janus separated, walking around one another in a deadly dance.
Two vampires from the sidelines attacked Janus from behind. The last thing they saw was the edge of Janus's blade.
Their heads rolled to the ground with a dull thump.
Harry looked away. Ron looked like he was going to hurl.
It disturbed her that she found it more fascinating than revolting.
"Bloody idiots," Rashad muttered.
"Show off," Yasmin said. "Really, Janus, was that necessary? They couldn't have hurt you."
"My patience wears thin," said Janus in a mildly annoyed tone. "Hermione's life is mine to take. It hurts no one but me to destroy her. Why do you meddle?"
Yasmin frowned. "I meddle because I'm told to meddle. You have your master, I have mine."
"Voldemort is not my master."
"Isn't he? You were going to slay the young one because he told you to, not because you want to."
"There are things bigger than me in this picture. Her death will serve a higher purpose. Who am I to gainsay that?"
"You are Janus. You do as you please. At least that's how it used to be. You're nothing but a human's lapdog now."
"Then take me alive if you can. I would strongly suggest that you try to kill me, because if I can't have her now, I'll try to get her again, and again, and I'll do what I have to. I already killed the vampire world's beloved Cicero for it."
Hermione's heart stopped at Janus's words. "He's lying. Rashad, tell me he's lying."
Rashad looked at her with true regret. "How do you think we knew Janus would come after you?"
She felt her insides knot, a sob struggling to rise out of her. "No…"
Janus raised his sword to prepare for a strike. "Give her up."
Yasmin frowned. "You are in no position to make deals. You are at my mercy, tonight."
"Then so be it."
Janus moved, lunging like lightning towards Hermione. He was too fast to see, but he was only as quick as Yasmin.
Yasmin responded with admirable reflex, getting between him and Hermione to block the blade, but it became evident in the next heartbeat that Janus knew he wouldn't succeed in slaying Hermione with Yasmin there to get in the way.
He turned, his blade going for someone else.
Hermione screamed just when Yasmin turned her own blade to deflect the attack.
Their swords met, but Janus's weapon had enough momentum to manage to find its mark, however inaccurate his sword's aim had become.
Six inches of sword plunged into Harry's side; deep enough to kill, though Janus had probably been aiming for Harry's heart and missed.
Yasmin swung, but she was swinging at thin air.
Hermione caught Harry's body as it fell to the forest floor, a sob rising painfully in her throat.
He was alive; he was breathing, but the blood… so much blood. She pressed her hand to his wound and he gasped in pain. He was blinking dazedly up at her and Hermione knew how it must feel.
Ron fell to his knees on the other side of them, pressing his hands over Hermione's. "This is not happening!"
"Stay with us, Harry. Stay with us!" She pulled her bloodied hands from beneath Ron's, taking Harry's head in her arms and holding him close; cradling him tenderly against her breast.
Yasmin cursed soundly, poising to take off after her quarry.
Desperately, Hermione looked up at Yasmin, speaking through her hysterical sobs. "Wait, Yasmin! Please! You have to get him help. Please. You're the only one who could. Don't let him die. Please don't let him die!"
It felt like an eternity before Yasmin spoke. She swiftly barked orders at Abraham to take the others and find Janus. Abraham nodded and disappeared with the rest of the remaining vampires. It was only then that Yasmin looked to Hermione. "How much does he mean to you?"
And Hermione knew, amidst the blood and despair, just what Yasmin was asking of her.
A million thoughts and memories raced through her mind in a split heartbeat, winding back to that fateful day she met eleven-year-old Harry Potter on that train to Hogwarts. There had been a point of choice, a split second that could have changed her life forever, because she could have walked by that compartment; left it well alone. Her courage could have waned and she might never have had another chance to introduce herself to the Boy Who Lived. Yet she took that chance, and her life had been set in the path she was in now.
She had lived for Harry ever since. Everything she had done had led to this point in her life where she was faced with another choice that would lead to a million other decisions.
Yet one thing will not change. Whatever I do; whatever my decision, I do it for him. It has always been for him.
"Everything," she replied in a determined tone. "He means everything to me. Please, just get him some help…"
"Everything?"
Hermione could see the question in Yasmin's eyes, confirming if Hermione understood. She nodded. "Everything, Yasmin. Please…"
It was all the confirmation Yasmin needed. "Wrap him nice and warm. Now."
Hermione moved urgently, pulling off her robes and coat. Ron did the same and hurriedly, they wrapped Harry as warmly as they could. She whispered that he had to hold on. He would be helped soon and that she wouldn't let anything happen to him.
She heard him whisper her name back and she had to steel herself, else she wouldn't be able to let go of him.
"Rashad," said Yasmin. "Take him to Saint Aedan's. Fly as fast as you can."
Rashad nodded, bundling Harry in his arms without the slightest hint of effort.
Hermione had never heard of the place. Bustling after Rashad to make sure that Harry was secure in his arms, she frantically asked her questions. "Where is that? Is it far? How is it I've never heard of it?"
It was Yasmin who replied. "It's not very well known, but it's a wizarding hospital, and yes, it is far, but Rashad can make it. He's fast. He'll get there on time, I promise you."
"Hermione," hissed Ron in her ear. "Can we trust these vampires?"
She looked at him with vague sense of hopelessness. "We have no choice."
Yasmin, choosing to ignore the exchange (because she would have heard it with her vampire ears) looked to Rashad. "Go."
Rashad stepped into the clearing, crouching low on the ground. For a heartbeat, he did nothing, but then he gave a shudder, and he screamed just when large leathery wings ripped out of his back through his clothing. The pain on his face was lost to the awesome unfurling of wings. They seemed to expand, spread and Rashad was off, disappearing above the trees and beyond.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Remus, Tonks and their posse of aurors appeared just a few minutes after Rashad took off. They stumbled upon the scene with Hermione and Ron soiled with Harry's blood. The heads and bodies that littered the clearing was not the prettiest sight.
Yasmin stood above all this with her sword.
The scene was most incriminating for her.
Hermione had to gather her senses in a hurry to explain what happened.
"So where's Harry now?" Remus asked in a strained voice.
"Heading to Saint Aedan's," Hermione said wearily. "Yasmin promised Rashad would get him there in time."
Remus looked to Yasmin. She winked.
Tonks's eyebrow arched, her pink hair wiggling in agitation as she gave Yasmin the once over. "She doesn't look like someone I'd trust."
Yasmin chuckled. "Clever girl."
Abraham reappeared with the rest of the vampires in tow. They caused a stir among the aurors and several wands were raised. Abraham did not pay them any heed. He went straight to his master. "We failed to find him."
Yasmin's smile wilted and she frowned. "I expected as much."
"Tonks will take you to Saint Aedan's," said Remus to Hermione and Ron, coming to some kind of decision. "She knows where it is."
Tonks frowned, hand to her hip. "And where will you be?"
"Here, gathering information. I've some questions for Ms. Omar regarding our friend, Janus."
Yasmin laughed. "What makes you think I'll answer your questions, werewolf? You're cute, but not that cute."
Remus grit his teeth. "It wouldn't hurt you to cooperate just this once, Ms. Omar. Lives are on the line-"
"You should know better than anyone that vampires aren't so accommodating. Besides, what do I care about life? I'm undead. I will go with you to Saint Aedan's and perhaps you can entertain me with your feeble attempts to get information. I have to fetch Rashad from Saint Aedan's, anyway, and besides that, I have some business to conclude with Hermione."
"Can't that wait?" Hermione hissed, feeling the inevitability of it stabbing her anew. It was like twisting the knife embedded in her heart. "I'd at least like to know first if Harry's going to be alright. If he dies, then you didn't fulfill your end of the deal and I don't have to fulfill mine."
"It's not like you'd want to keep living your human life if he dies, Hermione."
There it went again; the knife. "Please, just let me wait to see if he'll be alright."
Yasmin paused to give it some thought. "Fine."
Hermione felt Ron nudging her from behind. "Hermione… what are you talking about?"
She looked at him sadly. "Let's go to Saint Aedan's, Ron. I don't want Harry to wake up alone."
Ron stared back at her with uncharacteristic intensity before he nodded and took her hand. "Then let's go."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Hermione arrived with Ron in Saint Aedan's, the healers had been working on Harry for three hours. It was another hour yet of waiting before the healer emerged, looking wearied in the extreme, but with a pronounced glimmer of hope.
Hermione and Ron met him half-way through the hall.
"We fixed him as best we could," said the healer tiredly, his Irish accent thick. "Quite a few close calls, but he be a fighter, Mr. Potter is. All signs say that he'll make it."
Hermione had never felt such relief in her life. She sank into Ron's arms and wept. Ron's embrace was strong and reassuring.
Behind them, Remus and Tonks were sighing in relief.
Hermione could hear Tonks and Remus agreeing that Tonks should go and report back to Shacklebolt, but Hermione's consciousness spread beyond that.
She knew, lurking in the shadows of the hospital, were Yasmin, Abraham and Rashad. They would be waiting for her to come to them.
Sun-up wasn't that far ahead and perhaps out of sheer necessity, she could get herself another night to settle things before she fulfilled her end of the deal.
She looked up at Ron, pleading with her eyes for him to ask. She was a vampire. She wasn't sure how the healer felt about her quite yet.
"Can we see him?" Ron asked. Perhaps he could read words from her eyes, too.
The healer's gaze fell on Hermione and he hesitated.
She turned away, seeking solace in Ron's embrace. Ron's protective arms enfolded her.
"You may," the healer said at last. "He'll be asleep. He needs it. You have to promise not to try and wake him."
Hermione didn't know if she could stand to speak to Harry as if everything was going to be alright, so the healer didn't have to worry about her trying to wake him up. She just had to see if he was alright. She had to look at him one last time.
She and Ron were led into the maze of hallways and finally to Harry's room where he lay asleep on the bed attached to a plethora of magical healing objects. He looked pale and exhausted, his messy black hair lifeless upon his head.
Sinking into a chair by Harry's bed, Hermione took his hand, tears falling from her eyes. She felt Ron's hands on her shoulders, squeezing supportively.
How horrible was it for Harry when he had to stand over my dead body?
Hermione couldn't imagine. Right now, there was every promise of Harry's recovery, yet the pain of having lost him loomed so near she could almost feel the grief.
You're going to have to say goodbye, anyway…
Sniffing, Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes and rose from her seat. She bent over, placing a delicate kiss on Harry's pale, unresponsive lips. She touched his hair, careful not to disturb him as she savored the feel of his silky strands.
"If you can hear me," she whispered so very softly in his ear. "I want you to know that I do this because I love you. I love you, Harry."
She closed her eyes and listened to his breathing. The cadence of his rising and falling chest was even. He slept on.
She pulled away and turned to leave. Ron stared at her in astonishment.
"You stay here with him. I have some things to attend to," she said.
"W-What?"
"I'll be back, Ron. I promise. I'll only be a while. In two hours it'll be sun-up. I have to get a few things done before then."
Ron stared at her a moment, probably trying to figure out if she was lying. After a while, he nodded.
She left Harry's room and saw Remus waiting anxiously outside. She took a moment to tell him he should go in and see Harry, hopefully to distract Remus from asking any questions. Hermione gauged it right. Remus, bless him, loved Harry too dearly to be bothered by oddly behaving young girls. Besides, if worse came to worse, Hermione could order Remus to go in there and he would have no choice but to comply.
Driven by instinct, Hermione sought the darkest alcoves of the hospital.
She spoke into the grim shadows of a cluttered storage room. "I need more time."
At first there was silence, and Hermione thought she might have made a mistake in supposing that anyone would be there to hear her, but the inky blackness came alive with the glow of purple orbs. "My dear… are you shirking our agreement?"
Hermione frowned. "Don't insult me. Besides, it's not as if I can run away and hide, can I?"
"I suppose not," said Yasmin in affected weariness. "How much time do you need?"
"Just until tomorrow night."
"They'll be moving Harry to St. Mungo's some time tomorrow. They'll probably move you along with him. Where should I expect you?"
"Outside of Grimmauld Place."
"We'll be there."
Hermione turned to go but was surprised to hear Yasmin calling her back. Hermione turned to listen.
"It occurred to me while I was waiting for you… I can't have you going into this half-assed. Being in the coven… it's a total commitment. If you're doing this just because of what happened in the forest, I'm not exactly sure I should expect that commitment from you. I will call off this deal if you so desire. There will be a reckoning, mind you, but not so I can get you into the coven under duress."
For a heartbeat, Hermione felt a flare of joy. She didn't have to leave. She didn't have to go with Yasmin, but just as soon as that hope blossomed, it died as she finally accepted the reality of her fate.
"If I stay with him, I will destroy him," she said softly. "I've endangered his life twice over the course of three days, and both times, it was because of what I am. Cicero is dead because of me. Harry and everyone else I love might meet the same fate. It's just not going to end. And I don't just mean putting his life in danger, either. It's everything. It's his sanity. His entire life… I wanted to believe that I can be with him, that this sacrifice he makes for me is some kind of gift… but it's just not real, is it, Yasmin? Gift though it might be, I'm taking his opportunity for a happier life."
Yasmin chuckled, and Hermione could have sworn she could detect bitterness in it. "What do you want to hear from me, Hermione?"
"The truth."
She chuckled again. "The awful truth… I haven't been human for over five hundred years, but you see… you never quite forget what it entailed. As humans, we had such a capacity to love, and hate, and feel. We could give everything and keep nothing for ourselves, yet we were such victims of regret. Coulda, woulda, shoulda… missed opportunities; time lost…"
Hermione bit her lip, wishing she could keep her tears at bay.
"If you ask me," said Yasmin quietly. "The only thing vampires could give back is loving someone enough to let go. Let a man live his life. Give him no reason to regret the day he met you. Give him a chance to realize, before it's too late, that he could live without you and can do so happily… with somebody else."
The tears spilled, but Hermione nodded. "I thought as much. I'll see you back in London, then. And you needn't worry about me going into this half-assed. I'm Hermione Granger. I don't do things in halves."
"Very well, Hermione Granger who doesn't do things in halves… do what you have to do."
Hermione nodded and left.
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When Hermione pushed the lid off her coffin the following night, she was in the dungeons of Grimmauld Place. How they got her there, she might never know, but it only meant that Harry was now in St. Mungo's.
Grimly, she dressed and packed what possessions she can bring in her trunk.
As she made her way through the dungeon, she spied Draco reading in his cell.
She caught his gaze and he eyed the trunk with a raised eyebrow.
"Going somewhere, Granger?"
She didn't have much time for niceties. "Yeah. Somewhere."
"I knew it was only a matter of time before you came to your senses and left him."
Stopping in her tracks, she turned and regarded him with unveiled revulsion. "What do you get out of sucking a person's soul, Malfoy? I can explain dementors better than I can explain you."
He snorted. "I'm a complicated guy. I couldn't even explain myself, not that I have to, but seeing as you're dying to know, I'll try. I could care less how I make people feel. I hurt them; I make them feel like crap; I make them feel like they've earned my respect… it's all relative to me. It's the power I derive from it, Granger. You know what I mean by that. You vampires understand power more than anything. I sit here, behind this cell and still I managed to piss you off because I wanted to. It's positively orgasmic."
Hermione didn't know why she even ventured to have some kind of conversation with him. She turned to leave.
"Hope he's worth the heartbreak, Granger," he called after her.
He's an imp. An evil little thing with x-ray eyes that can find malignant cancers in your soul, she thought with passionate hate.
Hermione left her trunk at the bottom of the stairs and headed up to the library. She had to organize some books; see to it that Harry and Ron could find them when they referred to her notes.
It took a while, but she worked with purpose, focused on her task.
She was so intent on putting the necessary flags on the relevant pages that she hadn't noticed that someone had come through the door.
Ron came into her line of vision and she looked up. She must have seemed guilty because a stern look began to settle on his face.
"You didn't come back to the intensive care ward last night," he said.
"I was busy."
He watched her work for a few seconds. "I saw your trunk downstairs."
There was very little point in denying it. "Did you?"
"Yes. Where are you going, Hermione?"
She went back to work, briskly putting the flags in along the margin of pages. "If I wanted to tell you, I would have."
"Well then, when are you coming back?"
She didn't reply, slamming the book shut with a bang. She put the book neatly at the top of the pile.
His breath hitched. "You're not coming back, are you, or else you're not planning to."
"It's complicated," was all she said, opening the pages to her journal to make copies of the relevant entries.
Ron scowled. "Is this about the last fight you had with Harry? He was just upset at the time, and he almost died for goodness sake!"
She sighed, flipping through her notes. "This is not just about that fight, Ron. I made a deal with Yasmin. You were there, weren't you?"
"That's bullcrap and you know it," he hissed. "You want to go, don't you? Because if you didn't, you'd find a way to stay. I know you, Hermione. You'd find a way."
"Ron… this is about many, many things, and above all else, I'm leaving because I love Harry and care for you. It's better this way…"
"Y-You can't just leave. You can't-at least wait for Harry to wake up-"
"No," she said softly. "It just won't work that way. If I have to go, I have to go now."
"Why are you doing this? Do you think we don't love you or something?"
"It's not like that, Ron. This isn't about me, alright? It's just… this is the way things have to be."
"How can you do this to Harry? How can you stand there and say you love him when you're leaving and giving up on the two of you? I mean-bloody hell, Hermione! If you and Harry can't work it out, then the bunch of us couldn't possibly believe in love, or whatever-"
She finally looked at him, her eyes filling with tears. He fell silent, his outrage melting into compassion.
"It hurts, Ron," she said. "It really does. I want to stay. I want to stay so much, but this thing that I am… I don't belong in your lives, Ron. Not anymore. Harry should have better things to look forward to than the coming of sunset."
His eyes glazed liquid and he blinked several times, swiping the back of his hand across his face. "What am I going to say to him, Hermione? How am I going to-you have no idea how hard it was for Harry when he thought you were dead. I had to watch him take it, and it was just-what am I going to tell him?"
"Tell him anything you want, Ron," she whispered. "If he hates me for it, then maybe that's even better. He'll be able to move on quicker. Live his life the way he's supposed to live it."
"Hermione…"
She dug into the pocket of her coat and pulled out two sealed letters. She had written them the previous night, just before she fell asleep in the dungeons of St. Aedan's. "Here. You can give him this. The other one's for you."
He didn't want to take it.
She placed it atop the table.
Gathering her journal, she made to leave.
"I ought to petrify you. Bind you and keep you here," said Ron.
She looked over her shoulder at him. "That's more my style, Ron, not yours."
As soon as she said it, she saw the split second it took for him to whip out his wand.
She moved with vampire quickness, easily avoiding the incarcerous hex he had thrown at her.
There was no resenting him for it. She felt no ill-feelings at all, because she knew why he had thrown that hex. He had done it for Harry, and perhaps Ron thought he was doing it for her, too.
She was before him in a flash, standing in front of him, toe to toe.
He gasped at the sudden proximity and she saw that the tears he had kept at bay had finally spilled over.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. She closed her eyes and released a haze of powerful pheromones into the air.
Ron groaned as the pheromones overpowered him, his legs losing strength as he slid bonelessly to the ground. "H-Hermione…"
She crouched down beside him, pushing the stray hairs from off his face as he blinked up at her in a drunken daze.
Leaning forward, she placed a tender kiss on his forehead. She held it for a few heartbeats before she pulled away.
Willing herself to be strong, she stood up and began to walk away.
She heard the feeble plea of Ron as he called her name and told her no. She refused to look back, because she would lose her resolve.
With steeled determination, she made her way down the stairs. She grabbed her trunk and forced her feet to take her to the door, and then past the lawn, and finally to the curb of the street where Yasmin's stretch Jaguar awaited her.
The chauffer emerged from the driver's side while Abraham emerged from the other. Abraham took her trunk to put it in the boot while the chauffer held the car door open for her to get in.
Hermione slid into the car, the door closing her in.
Yasmin sat crossed-legged in front of her looking terribly amused. "Are you ready, Hermione?"
Hermione blinked back tears and swallowed. "I am."
The car rolled forward and Hermione peeked out of her window one last time. She couldn't even see number twelve.
Harry… oh, Harry!
Pain flared within her and finally, she allowed her heart to break. Burying her face in her hands, she wept so bitterly that even Yasmin hadn't been cold enough to scorn her.
She was so gone on her grief that she hadn't even realized, until the following day, that she had left her humanity behind on the same day she had been born to it.
END PART ONE
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A/N: I'm not going to create a new story for part two. The next chapter I release in this same account will fall in Part Two of this fic. Aiyayay… I guess Hermione isn't the only monster there is. We've got some from Harry's chest and this story's turning out to be a monster in itself!