Disclaimer in the first chapter.
A/N: Sorry about the long gap in updates, but life's been sort of hectic lately. I'll do a multi-chapter upload to make up. :)
The Darkness Within
Chapter 9: Forgotten Lives
"Hey!" Ron jumped up from his bed as the cold water hit his face. Glaring around the room his gaze settled on the perpetrator standing next to the four poster monstrosity with a wand in his hand.
"Why did you do that for?" he demanded of Harry who was at the moment unable to answer because of the hearty laughter escaping his mouth. The redhead was a funny sight indeed, with the darker freckles standing out on the pale skin and water dripping from the longish hair, gluing it to his forehead and cheeks. The angry scarlet ears sticking out from between the tufts of hair didn't do much to make the picture more respectable.
Getting a hold of his runaway mirth Harry plumped down on the side of the slightly damp bed, tucking the wand back into his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Ron. But you looked so peaceful I just couldn't resist. Besides, it's about time you woke up - we'll miss breakfast soon."
"Bloody hell! Why didn't you say that sooner." Ron scrambled into a pair of pants and a maroon sweater lying on his trunk and headed for the bathroom. Moments later when he came out, he paused for a second and looked at Harry.
"Thanks," he said quietly. He grabbed his school robes from the trunk and walked to the door. There he turned around and raising an eyebrow asked, "You coming?"
Harry smiled and went after him.
When they made it down the stairs to the common room, Hermione and Ginny were already there, getting ready to leave through the portrait hole. Both boys moved to join them.
Ginny scowled when she noticed the boy he considered a seventh brother, but who had been ignoring her for the better part of a year.
"What is he doing here?" she asked dryly.
Ron had a large smile on his face. "He is going to breakfast with us."
"Don't be silly, Ron. He hasn't done that for a while now. Why would he do that now?"
"Don't know," he said casually, "maybe the git has grown up and knows who his friends are."
The bland expression on her face vanished as understanding dawned. "Oh," she breathed, mouth slightly open, "You made up. I'm so glad, Harry. Welcome back!" she added while jumping on the boy in question and giving him a huge hug.
Hermione watched them close by and offered a "Hey, Harry", before the quartet walked to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Hermione was quiet as usual during the meal, but instead of burying herself into a large volume of some sort she spent it observing Harry. Ron and Ginny both knew it was generally useless to try to make conversation with the girl, who considered meals extra studying time and directed their attention to Harry. The conversation flowing between both sides of the table, filled with occasional bursts of laughter gave Hermione ample chance to study the raven haired boy without attracting attention.
She noticed the easy manner of his speech and the ready smiles. It seemed the boy who had been her best friend for more than five years really was back to himself after the period of depression he had ignored everybody. In fact he seemed to be happier than ever before. A part of her wondered whether she had had anything to do with this and she decided to corner the boy later to administer some more of her brand of medication. Or at least question him thoroughly.
Hermione had her chance that afternoon when she noticed Harry leaving that Library as she was approaching it from the other direction. Quickening her stroll to a brisk walk she caught up to the boy, slowing down to walk beside him.
"So, Harry," she began, "have you got time to talk?"
He glanced at her. "Name the time and place." He had a mischievous twinkle to his eyes that Hermione failed to notice. Or maybe not, because she grabbed his arm and heading for the staircase said:
"Right about now. The Room of Requirement."
After pacing a couple of times back and forth in front of the wall a door appeared that lead into a comfortably furnished Muggle style living room. They entered and stared uncertainly at each other for a while before moving to the couch and sitting down next to each other. She decided to grab the bull by the horns and pasting a cheerful smile on her face turned to look at Harry.
"So. What's going on?"
He raised an eyebrow with an answering smile on his lips. "Going on? What to you mean by that? Nothing's going on or well … nothing new anyway."
"Right. You are going to have to do better than that," she answered, crossing her arms. "You realise, of course, you been sulking about the school for most of the year and now suddenly you act as though nothing has happened. Perhaps Ron will welcome you back with open arms and no questions asked, but you can't honestly expect me to do that."
"Worth a try though, wasn't it."
The playful tone of his voice didn't go unnoticed by Hermione even though every little inner voice she had, logic and reason, screamed at her to dig further, to discover the truth behind Harry, at that moment she really didn't want to. A pair of bright green eyes floated before her, twinkling with happiness she hadn't seen in a long time.
The couch they were sitting on was so warm and soft and comfortable. She felt at peace and Harry was there, sitting right next to her. Can people really become intoxicated only by the presence of the person they love, she wondered. To Harry she said, "Are you all right now?"
He grasped her hands in his. "I think so. Yes, I think I might be."
"I'm glad. You deserve it. You deserve to be happy," she replied with conviction.
Harry was close enough to her to feel the warmth emanating from her body, the hands he still held in his were covered with a slight sheen of moisture. Unconsciously he ran a thumb across the palm her hand, pass the blue ink stain on her knuckles to the small sliver ring on her pinkie.
"Where did you get that?" He played with the ring on her finger.
"My grandmother … when I was little," she breathed out in the same sort of airy voice Harry had used to ask the question.
The fake cheerfulness and the real smiles they had both worn since entering had no place in this room any longer. Their expressions were serious now; it was not a time for games.
His eyes were locked in hers, his one hand concentrating on drawing smooth circles on her wrist while the other rose of its own volition to her face. It hesitated, briefly, while hovering near her bushy brown hair that fell to cover her cheeks. Her hair looked wild and coarse, yet he was sure … yes … it was so soft to his touch. Gently he brushed it away from her pink face. He moved closer. It seemed as though the room was building a cocoon around them. Inside were Harry and Hermione and new love that heated the space around them and outside … outside did not exist.
He saw her mouth open slightly as a small tongue slipped out to moisten her lips. He leaned closer still, his breath quickening, his own lips parted. His eyes fell shut, but he forced them open again not wanting to miss anything. Not wanting to miss the first second he felt her breath mix with his, the widening of her eyes at the first cautious touch, the way her dark lashes lowered to cover them as she relaxed into his embrace, her lips against his.
They lost track of time, locked into their own private paradise.
A while later they sat together, with Harry's head resting on her shoulder; breathless, elevated and happy, but with reality prickling at the edges of their cocoon.
It was Hermione who voiced it first.
"What are we going to tell people? What are we going to tell Ron?"
He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position now that she had disrupted their hour of selfishness. But Harry knew the answer to that question. You don't really expect me to tell him, do you? I just got my life back. The life that is rightfully mine, stolen from me by the expectations of destiny. The life I had forgotten.
"I don't want to hurt him," he said. "Do you remember how it was in the autumn?"
She nodded pensively.
"I think we should give him more time and … tell him when he's ready. We'll keep us a secret for now," he concluded.
She sat up straighter. "I suppose you are right. It's just …" she hesitated. "I hate lying to him."
"So do I. But it really is for the best," he said with finality and stood up from the couch. "We should be getting back now, people will be wondering where I am."
Hermione walked towards the door beside him. "And they won't wonder about me?" she questioned.
Smirking, Harry answered: "No … Because our resident Ms Know-It-All is in the library, gathering some new and fascinating information for that encyclopaedia in her pretty head."
She slapped his shoulder playfully adding, "And lucky for us they would think that."
Upon returning to Gryffindor Tower they discovered that they had both been a little paranoid as no one had noticed anything unusual about their absence. Ron was sitting in an armchair near the windows playing a complicated-seeming game of Wizards Chess against himself and waved them over to sit by him. He informed the pair that just moments ago Professor McGonagall had stopped by the common room to post a notice for a Hogsmeade weekend. Ron told them that they all should go together and have some fun, but with a subtle wink at Harry Hermione shot down his idea.
She told Ron it would be impossible, because Harry had fallen behind on his studies and she had already promised to spend the weekend in the library with him, helping him to catch up.
Ron was incredulous at the mere thought of wasting a Hogsmeade weekend on studying, but Hermione stood firm and advised him to go and enjoy himself, but with someone else. Of course she put it a bit more diplomatically.
Saturday came around and Hermione waited in the common room for Harry to come down and join her in a day on their own. She had no way of knowing that the previous night Harry's mark had burned a raw red when Lord Voldemort called his followers to his side. Harry had not yet returned from the night's festivities.
When Harry didn't come down she climbed the boy's staircase and entered the sixth year boy's dormitory to discover Ron frantically throwing things out of his trunk in a last minute effort to round up some more sickles for the visit to the village, alone in the room.
Hermione looked around confusedly, she had been down in the common room since early morning and was certain that Harry had not come down the stairs. She turned towards Ron.
"Where is Harry?"
"In the library with you. Wasn't he?" He didn't bother to look at her while continuing his rummage of the old, beaten trunk.
"No. I haven't seen him at all today."
Ron stopped when the bottom of his trunk started showing and walked over to the bed where he dug a well-worn black cloak out from under the pile of things decorating his bed. He put it on and turned to face her.
"Well, then I have no idea where he is." He moved to the door. "Are you sure you won't change your mind and come to the village with us?"
Hermione sat on Harry's trunk and put on a stern expression. "No. I think I'll wait for him to show up."
"I'll pick you up some chocolate at Honeydukes'!" were Ron's parting words before heading out the door.
Hermione waited, but Harry never came and soon she relocated to the Library telling herself that if he would want to find her he'd know where to look. And besides, the day couldn't be allowed to be a complete waste, could it?
She spent the day waiting and worrying however, and when she returned to Gryffindor Tower in the evening and Ginny told her that Harry was up in his dormitory she was practically crackling with anger.
Hermione burst into the room, coming to a stop before the two boys who were playing Exploding Snap on Ron's bed.
"Where have you been, Harry?" she asked, hands on her hips.
"I don't know what you mean," he told her innocently, lights sparkling in his eyes as he looked at the annoyed girl glaring daggers at him.
"Stop it," she ordered. "You have never been one to play games with people."
Ron broke in, "Leave the man alone, Hermione. It's the git's own business if or when he tells us where he went off to." When saying the word git, he looked at Harry and smiled showing there were no hard feelings and that he probably knew where Harry had been.
Hermione ignored Ron's comment and grabbing Harry's hand tried to pull him out of the room. "Come on, Harry, I am going to talk to you about this whether you like it or not. And we are going to talk somewhere we are not interrupted constantly."
Harry resisted her efforts, but when Ron winked at him wishing, "Good luck, mate," he allowed himself to be dragged out of the dormitory.
Out the portrait hole, down some stairs, though hallways and passages, to an abandoned corridor where Hermione started pacing back and forth. When the door appeared she pushed the boy in. As it clicked shut she whirled around to face him.
"Tell me. Tell me what's going on, where have you been. Tell me!"
Harry stood, looking at the girl in front of him.
She loved him. She had made that clear, plain as day. She was beautiful, he respected her, and he liked her. He liked to hold her; and he was as sure as any sixteen year old boy could be that he loved her too. But he couldn't trust her. Harry could not trust anybody.
His life was a mess of lies, a pit of madness … yet he was having fun. He really was. For the first time in his life there were no limitations on him. He could be anyone, play any part, do anything. He was an enthusiastic student, a witty and entertaining friend and a caring boyfriend. And he was a loyal son.
He was everything he was expected to be. No matter where he went or what he did people where pleased and happy with him.
In spite of all the secrets, the sleepless nights - for one reason or another - and the constant sneaking around he felt content. It seemed strange, but his life was simpler somehow, easier. He wanted everything to continue as it was and that meant …
"I'm sorry," he said. "I really am, but I can't tell you."
His eyes were pleading with her. "You must trust me and allow me my secrets." My secrets allow me my freedom.
She breathed out slowly. And breathed in again. Ticking heartbeats echoed in the dark room. Finally she spoke, "What do you want from me Harry?" She sounded sad, almost desperate. "Why do you ask me to trust you when you obviously cannot trust me. Have I not earned your trust by now?" Her voice broke. "Must I prove myself to you?"
You don't understand, my girl. It's not just my secrets I don't trust you with. I do trust you to love me, but do you want me above everything else. Can you love my secret as you love the boy you think you know? Do you want me?
Something glittered in the darkness of the otherwise empty room, catching his attention. Harry hid his smile when he caught sight of what the room had conjured for this visit.
He grabbed Hermione by the elbow, startling her, and turned her around to look at the same direction as he. She gasped. In wonder she stuttered, "Is that - is that -"
A mirror stood in the open space before them, its frame, adorned by an engraved sentence, was polished to a golden shine.
Harry and Hermione stood side by side staring into the ancient mirror. With sparkling eyes and a smile on her lips Hermione spoke, "Erised …"
The reflection of the happy girl turned to the boy next to her. "I always wished I could see it …" And froze, seeing the empty space beside her.
"Harry," she questioned, "where did you …"
Hidden in the darkest shadows several steps away from her a raven haired boy smiled. Heart's true desire.
When Hermione started looking around for him he returned to her side and gently kissing the tip of her nose told her, "I will tell you everything. Soon. I promise."
Still wearing a sort of dazed smile Hermione followed him out of the Room of Requirement.
As the gentle winds of spring swept across the lake Hermione and Harry started their daily tradition of late night walks on the castle grounds, sometimes even wandering as far as the border of the Forbidden Forest where the winter snow had started to melt, revealing the soft mushy earth beneath.
They snuck out under Harry's invisibility cloak, and took the sort of aimless walks that couples in love do. Holding each others hands, pausing occasionally for a kiss and talking about unimportant, trivial things just to hear each others voices and sometimes about nothing at all enjoying the comfortable quiet.
On one of those nights in early March they stood in the shadow of the eastern wall of the castle. Harry had pressed her against the mossy wall and was covering her white neck with soft kisses when suddenly his breath hitched in pain and he resisted the urge to grab his left arm. The burning sensation was painfully intense and required immediate action.
He reluctantly let go of Hermione. "It's getting late. I think we should get back to the castle."
"It's not that late. We been out a lot longer before," she said, her brow furrowed.
"I know, but I'm feeling a bit sleepy tonight." He had to clench his teeth to keep crying out from the pain; Lord Voldemort was impatient tonight. He could barely think straight as he started to drape the invisibility cloak around Hermione's shoulders.
The cloak firmly in place, he pulled her along towards the castle entrance, right before reaching the door he stopped and made a show patting his pockets in confusion. Finally he said, "I think I dropped my practise Snitch somewhere."
Looking down to the ground he didn't notice her raised eyebrows.
"I'll go back and look for it … There is no reason for you to come, just go inside and I will see you tomorrow," he continued.
He looked up and smiled crookedly as Hermione threw her arms around him in a tight hug. "All right," she whispered. "See you tomorrow."
Harry let go of her and walked back down the trail, his mind so occluded by pain he never realised the castle doors did not open, and a new weight was resting in his pocket.
From the Forbidden Forest he Apparated to his master.
... to be continued ...