Hello, you all may have forgotten me, my name is Brooke (Archie) and I'm the author of this one really cool story called The Potter Vs. Granger Rivalry. Haha. I know I know, I haven't updated in….about 1 year, 4 months, 3 weeks, and some odd about of hours and minutes. I'm terrible, I know! I honestly can't believe it. It's just crazy how long it's been. Honestly, I just haven't really had the desire to write. First I was too busy, then before I knew it, summer was here…and Summer 2007 was so amazing for me, I was so busy I didn't have time to spare to write. Then lately, all my attention has been on my boyfriend of the last 8 months…not to mention my high school and college classes. I am so sorry I haven't posted anything! I know I've probably lost a lot of readers in my absence, but hopefully there are still a handful of you out there waiting for my update!
Well, enough of my talking! This chapter is unfortunately rather short…or shorter than usual I think (or so if feels). I hope you enjoy it! I actually wrote most of it yesterday. I spent hours writing and then typing it all up. It was insane…I had so many ideas flowing, I couldn't seem to write fast enough in my notebook! Well…
ENJOY!
Dedication: To all my readers that have stayed with me from the beginning! Over 2 years in and you still haven't given up on me!
Chapter 15: Answers and Giving In
Harry's eyes were cast downward, but he forced himself to look up to meet Hermione's. Her brown orbs were full of curiosity and apprehension. What was he supposed to tell her? He didn't even know the entire story. Would his knowledge be enough to satisfy her? No, he knew it would only fuel her on to find out even more.
"Hermione," Harry began slowly. "I-I don't really. . ." he trailed of lamely.
Hermione only stared at him still.
"You see. . .it's complicated." He tried, hoping she might take the hint and spare him from going through all this. He really hadn't planned on talking about this tonight.
"But you do know, right?" she pressed on, ignoring how uncomfortable he was.
"Well, I mean, it's not exactly in black and white. ." Harry replied with a small shrug.
"Harry, do you or do you not know? Well, I already know you must know something, so the real question here is: are you going to tell me?" Hermione knew she was probably coming off as overbearing and possibly even pushy, but she needed to know. She had never been terribly interested in it before, but the curiosity always lurked in the back of her mind. Now that she had a source that could answer her questions, Hermione suddenly felt like this was extremely important. His answers might give her some insight to the weird things that have happened recently, like Avery's sudden interest, Draco and Ron's actions, and the rest of the school's attitude.
Damn, why did she have to be so upfront? Couldn't she tell he was very uneasy about this? Why did she have to ruin his perfectly planned night? He sighed. "Hermione. . .this is all very difficult. It's a very complicated situation. I don't even know all that much, it's more of a he-said-she-said thing."
"Just tell me what you do know then." Hermione coaxed slowly, forcing him to meet her eyes once again.
Harry let out a slow sigh and considered for a moment how to tell her everything. After a few beats of silence, he finally began, "Well…obviously you can tell how judgmental the Wizarding World can be. They don't really fancy change all that much. Tradition is a big thing, especially with Pureblood and rather wealthy families. My family isn't completely Pureblood nor particularly wealthy, but we still have a pretty powerful reputation. And your family had one too at one time, believe it or not.
"You know about the rivalry between our families already, I'm assuming?" Harry asked, just to make sure he didn't miss anything.
Hermione pursed her lips and admitted, "I know of the bad blood between us, but I don't know why."
Harry nodded in response. "Unfortunately I'm not too clear on that one either. I've been taught my whole life that associating with Grangers is a definite no-no. " he confessed, crossing his arms restlessly in front of his chest. "I know the rivalry stretches back centuries, but I don't know the root cause." Harry admitted, staring down at the flames flickering in front of him.
Hermione scoffed, causing Harry to look up. "So the Wizarding World hates the Granger family because of a rivalry that started centuries ago, and most probably don't even know the root cause?! That's downright foolish! Why doesn't the Wizarding World hate the Potters as much as they hate the Grangers? They were involved in the rivalry as well!" She pointed out bluntly, unconsciously becoming defensive of her heritage.
Harry held up a hand to put an end to her rant. "Whoa, hold on. I'm not finished yet. At some point, the Grangers began to try to pick rows with the Potters. Now, the Potters didn't want peace, but they didn't go out and start duels for the hell of it either. Well, they weren't as notoriously known for it like the Grangers were anyway. The Grangers also had a bit of a sadistic way of torturing and killing Potters. Eventually, after a particularly nasty run-in between a Potter and Granger where the Granger gruesomely killed the Potter, the Wizarding World shun the Granger family. You have to understand, the Potters were an extremely well-respected family. Anyway, the Grangers got more involved in the Muggle World because of their tarnished name. Centuries later, it became odd to even have a witch or wizard in the Granger family." Harry finished with a shrug of his shoulders before he took a large bite of his melting brownie sundae.
Hermione felt her stomach twist painfully. So that was her family secret? That the Grangers got shun from the Wizarding World because they were such sadistic killers? She felt a chill run down her spine as her mind quickly flashed back to her recent dreams. Mentally pushing that aside, she tried to focus on how the unofficial exile had been centuries ago. "That's terrible." She said hoarsely, "But even still, I don't see why they hate me because of what my ancestors did hundreds of years ago."
Harry tossed his spoon aside and downed the rest of his sundae before replying, "There's more still. I don't know if you know this or not, but…Voldemort was a Granger." Harry said slowly, trying to gauge Hermione's reaction.
Hermione stared back blankly for a moment before she realized Harry was obviously waiting for a dramatic or emotion-filled reaction of some kind. "Oh." She said, a little uncertain of how she should be feeling. Who was Voldemort?
'Oh?' He just told her she was a descendent of bloody Voldemort, and all she says is 'Oh?' No way! If someone told him he was the a descendent of Voldemort, there would certainly be a lot more said than just a bloody calm 'Oh'!
"So…er…who exactly is this Voldemort bloke?" Hermione asked awkwardly, wringing her hands in her lap.
Harry gaped at her. "You don't know who Voldemort is!?" he asked, completely stunned. How could she not?!
Hermione--feeling slightly clueless and agitated--responded stiffly, "Obviously not, but I'd like to learn who he is." Was it that wrong for her to not know who he is? Surely Harry could understand her limited knowledge of the Wizarding World. Sure, she knew a lot, but there was still loads of things she didn't know, Voldemort being one of them.
Harry turned red slightly, realizing how stupid he must have just made her feel. He mentally reminded himself to be more considerate before he explained, "Wow…sorry, I've just never met anyone who hasn't known his name." He ran a hand through his already-messy ebony hair and unconsciously scooted a little closer to his friend, as if this topic was a private matter between the two of them. "Right, so obviously you know not all witches and wizards are good. You've experienced this already. Well, he was a bad one, I mean a really bad one. I don't exactly know all the specifics concerning his story, but I do know a few general things. He was a Dark Lord. I don't know where he got his start or any of that, but I do know he had Granger blood in him. A lot of people speculate that might be why he was so malicious. He was the cause of a really bad era in the Wizarding World. Voldemort had followers--called Death Eaters--and basically they brought on a Rein of Terror kind of thing. It was a very unpleasant time in both the Wizard and Muggle World.
"He was a particular hater of Muggles and, of course, his family rivals--the Potters. I don't know too much about his days in power because no one likes to talk about it. Actually, most people won't even say his name. They just call him 'You-Know-Who' and 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.' He was just a really bad wizard. I mean, he tortured and killed people for fun, especially those who stood in his way of power. He's the reason why most people are scared out of their bloody wits by you!" Harry declared with a snort.
Hermione's eyebrows shot up and she broke in, "Wait, you mean they're actually frightened of me? Why?" she asked incredulously. Honestly, why would someone be scared of her?
"Because!" Harry exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. "Don't you see it? You have Voldemort's blood coursing through you veins. Haven't you noticed? Blood is very important in the Wizarding World. It always matters. It determines how a lot of people look at you. See, Purebloods, like my two mates Ron and Draco, get the up-most respect while Muggleborns, like my mum, get the least amount. I'm a Half-blood because my mum was a Muggleborn and my dad was a Pureblood. Lucky for her, the Potter name is well-respected, so no one even thinks of her as a Muggleborn." Harry explained before hastily adding, "Not that there's anything wrong with Muggleborns! I mean, look at you! You're the brightest witch in the school. And my mother even, she was at the top of her class as well. I've been raised to not discriminate against someone because of how much magic is in their family line. Like I said, I'm not even a Pureblood. Not everyone discriminates against Muggleborns--most don't actually--but there are still those that do. And those that do are often the more powerful families. It's not fair at all. But as you can see, you have a fair few strikes against you.
"First off, you're Muggleborn, and like I said, that's not always welcomed. Secondly, you are a Granger. Thirdly, you are a Granger with magical abilities after Voldemort's time. There's a chance you might actually be directly related to him--that's how everyone looks at it at least. You have magical abilities and are from the same family as Voldemort--you might as well have a sign stamped to your forehead reading 'Spawn of Voldemort: Dark-leader-in-training.'" He finished. Harry realized he was pacing now, but didn't even remember standing up. He watched as Hermione tried to take all this new information in. Her expression was unreadable.
Hermione pondered all the new information. After a few silent minutes, everything began to click and make sense. She realized why everyone was suddenly frightened of her. They must have feared her since the beginning but just didn't show it. Once she lashed out at two students, they couldn't mask their fear any longer. Also, it explained why Avery suddenly had an interest in her. He sought her out because she began to show potential for the next Dark Lord. His ancestors were probably followers of Voldemort, Death Biters or whatever. Hermione sighed softly. She certainly had a lot of things to think about and consider.
"So I'm hated because of Voldemort?" Hermione asked, though is sounded more like a statement.
"Mostly." Harry replied with a yawn as he sat back down.
"When was he in power? Is he dead now?" Hermione asked curiously, still allowing her mind to buzz with all this knew knowledge.
Harry thought for a moment before replying, "Well, I don't really know when it all started, but I know it ended soon after I was born. So about sixteen or seventeen years ago. As far as what happened to him, no one really knows. His body was found, but it was stripped of its soul…if that makes any sense. I don't understand it. Some think he's dead, but others say he was too strong to die, that he's still out there, waiting for the opportune moment. I dunno." Harry shrugged. He'd never really thought about all this before. He never had to worry about.
There was a long silence where the two of them contemplated their own thoughts before it was broken, "It all makes sense now, you know. Like a lot of different things that have happened throughout the year." Hermione said aloud, more to herself. She felt a chill shiver down her spine for a second time that night as her dreams crept back into her mind. She tried to shift her mind away, but she kept seeing innocent people dying right in front of her in a flash of green light, their screams filling her ears. Remus. Nymphadora. Lily and James. She felt her head start to spin as a dizziness swept over her. She tried to stand but couldn't.
"Hermione?" She heard Harry concerned voice say her name worriedly, but it sounded muffled, like she was underwater. Other distant voices in her head were drowning his out.
"You're evil! Get out!"
"There is no Good and Evil, only Power, and those too Weak to Seek it."
"No." Hermione muttered, trying to put her hands over her ears, but still, the voices seem to get even louder.
"You're weak, you don't get spared. You die."
The world was spinning around her. She finally managed to stand and she suddenly got a familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was going to retch. Someone was trying to steady her; she felt someone grasping her arm.
"Avada Kedarva."
Hermione spun around, away from Harry, and began to violently throw up.
Harry watched--shocked--as Hermione retched forcefully. He stood motionless for a split second before coming out of his reverie and rushing towards his friend, concern written all over his face. He held her bushy brown hair back away from her face, while at the same time he tried to keep her steady.
As his hand grazed the back of her neck lightly, Harry felt pain surge somewhere near his temple. The pain was so intense that he immediately let go of Hermione and clapped his now-free hand over his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. What was going on? Why was this happening so frequently now? And why was the pain so intense this time?! It had never been this painful. An involuntary frustrated grunt escaped him. Te ache wasn't going away. He grunted again, willing for the pain to subside. Finally, once it did, Harry began to gain some composure. He straightened up and could see Hermione staring at him intently, her brown eyes wide.
"Are you alright!?" They both shrieked in unison.
"What just happened?!" Hermione asked, sounding slightly frightened.
Harry wasn't sure how to answer here--Hell, he couldn't answer himself. And what just happened to her? She had almost looked as if she was in pain or something. She had paled so quickly.
"Why were you holding your forehead like that?" She asked more urgently this time, taking a cautious step towards him. The color began to return to her cheeks, he noticed vaguely. The flickering of the fire illuminated her worried features.
Harry shrugged. "I dunno what's wrong with me. It's been happening a lot lately. I'll just suddenly get this pain on my forehead. I dunno what causes it." He tried to explain.
Hermione continued to stare at Harry unblinkingly, momentarily forgetting all about her own personal dilemma as she tried to focus on Harry's problem. "What sort of pain is it?" She asked questioningly, automatically getting that gleam in her eyes she always got when something puzzled her and she was determined to find a satisfactory answer.
"What do you mean?" Harry questioned distractedly, not quite understanding what answer she was aiming for. What kind of pain was it? The painful kind of course! What had just happened? His forehead hurt again…what could it have been though? What was on his forehead that was so bloody painful!?
"Well, there are different types of pain, Harry," she informed him, almost as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Was it a stabbing pain?" she asked. "Or was it a dull throb? Maybe a searing--"
Harry closed his eyes and tried to block out her questioning for a moment so he could sort things out. His forehead? The only thing on his forehead was his…his…his scar. That had to be it! 'Okay, so I was holding Hermione's hair back and--'
Hermione's voice broke through his thoughts, "Is it just in spot? Is it more like a headache maybe?" She was firing all these questions at once, and it almost did give Harry a headache.
He once again attempted to tune her voice out so he could concentrate. 'Okay, once again…so I got that pain when I held her hair back…and when Hermione twisted her ankle and I had to help her to the Common Room…'
"Maybe you could go see Madam Pomfrey. I bet the Hospital Wing--" Hermione was still talking rapidly, throwing out ideas while Harry tried to think.
'Then there was when I grabbed her hands during that apology…and the handshake afterwards…'
"I'm sure there's a potion you could take--"
So basically his scar stung every time he had contact with--
"Harr-"
"Hermione! Look, I dunno what kind of bloody pain it is, okay? And frankly, I couldn't care less at the moment." he lied. He really needed to sort all this out, but he'd much rather do it in private, without her constantly firing question at him that even he didn't know the answers to. "All I care about is getting rid of this bloody headache and getting some sleep. It's getting late; we should head back to the Castle." He said almost snappishly, and without waiting for a response, Harry quickly began to clear up their mess with a few flicks of his wand.
Hermione, slightly taken aback by her friend's testy tone, immediately felt a sense of uneasiness surround herself. Had she irritated him? Maybe she was nagging too much, but really, she was just worried about his well-being. She quietly watched as he finished cleaning up before the duo trudged through the cold and snow towards the Castle. Both teenagers were lost in their own thoughts. The only sound was the crisp crunch of the snow beneath their feet. The silence was heavy and almost emotionally suffocating for Hermione. It was bad enough to learn that she was the descendent of a Dark Lord. Now, with Harry apparently being upset with her, it just added to the emotional turmoil swimming chaotically in her mind. She wasn't even sure why he was so angry! Did she do something wrong? She was just trying to help!
Harry was by no means a stupid person. After some thought, his brain finally made the fuzzy connection that the only thing on his forehead was his lightening bolt scar. Also, he linked that the catalyst that triggered the pain was--somehow--Hermione. Or more distinctly, physical contact with Hermione. It may have just been a brush of their bare arms or one of them grabbing onto the other for a split second, but Harry realized those moments with Hermione were the only times his scar caused him any discomfort at all. It had to be. It was the only halfway logical answer. Whenever they were making skin-to-skin contact, he had a twinge on his scar. Sometimes it was worse than others. Tonight had been the worst ever.
This new realization angered him. He wasn't sure why, but it pissed him off that she caused this pain. He was pissed off at himself and at her as well for some reason. He knew it wasn't fair, but he couldn't help himself. It was like trying to force yourself out of a bad mood when the cause of it was dangling right there in front of your face, tauntingly you mercilessly. It was beyond his control.
They didn't bother getting under the Invisibility Cloak during the journey back to the Common Room. Harry simply watched on the map for someone on patrol, but kept the cloak out in case, ready to throw it over them if company showed up. Fortunately, they silently snuck back to the Common Room without incident. The Common Room was deserted and the pair of Gryffindors could barely make out the shadows and outlines of dark furniture with the limited light the dying cackling fire scarcely illuminated. Their parting was awkward and a definite hint of discomfort from both parties hung in the air between the two. They uttered a mutual "good night" before slipping up their respective staircases to their separate dormitories with the only sound being their muffled footsteps gently echoing on the stairs.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
The only sound that filled Harry dormitory was the other boys' snores. Harry mechanically pulled his clothes off and pulled on a pair of red pajama pants before climbing into his four-poster bed. With the maroon hanging pulled safely closed, he was finally able to shut his eyes and take a deep breath, ready to focus on the problem at hand: his scar.
Why did it twinge when he was around Hermione? It made no sense whatsoever. There had to be an alternative.
But nothing came to mind. His scar never started hurting until she came around.
He really needed to talk to someone about this, but he didn't know who. There was only one person he was on good terms with at the moment, and she was the cause of this unknown mysterious pain of his. He was half-tempted to write to his parents, but he knew that was probably the worst thing he could do. What would he say? 'Hey Mum, Dad….I have a problem. Every time I touch Hermione Granger,--yes, Granger--my scar hurts. Think you could shed a bit of light on the situation?' As clever as his mum and dad were, he knew they'd go ballistic if they knew of his friendship with Hermione. They always said he was do have absolutely nothing at all to do with--
Sirius! He could go talk to Sirius about it! Why hadn't he thought of it before? He could always go to Sirius. His godfather was absolutely brilliant, surely he'd have a solution to his problem. He didn't have classes tomorrow, so he would maybe go ask Sirius if he wanted to have lunch or something, and he could bring this scar business up in conversation. With that thought in mind, Harry turned over on his side and closed his eyes as sudden fatigue overtook his body.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Her private dormitory was--as always anticipated--completely empty. The room was dark, with only a silvery shadow from the moon coming in from her window illuminating the wooden planks of the floor. She felt tired and depressed. Hermione slowly changed into her pajamas before crawling into her bed. Her room held a slight chill in the air, so Hermione welcomed the warmth her comforter provided. Her head was spinning with new information and feeling; she couldn't sort it all out. It was giving her a headache. There was so much confusion. All this new knowledge about her relation to this old Dark Lord Voldemort only added to her messed up situation. Why her? Why was it so impossible to live a normal life like most other girls? The only things Lavender and Parvati had to worry about were what they were going to wear on their next date or how many calories they had just consumed. But Hermione didn't get to be so lucky. Instead of only worrying about her homework, classes, and her N.E.W.T.S., she had other burdens to ponder as well: her growing friendship with Harry Potter, Avery and the now-understood reason of why he was so interested in her all of a sudden, Draco and Rom and if they are going to try to kill her again, the wretched yet almost welcoming reality her dreams had to offer, Voldemort and why everyone thought she'd be just like him (a wizard she never even met or knew about until tonight), the disappointment she's caused her parents, how upset she obviously made Harry tonight…oh how the list went on and on. Her worries were never-ending. Today had started off nicely. Everything changed so quickly it was ridiculous.
Tears sprang to the witch's eyes as the full weight of her burdens settled heavily on her. She needed an escape. This was all too much for one person to bear at one time. Her friendship with Harry had indeed made things a lot easier, but now she feared she may have screwed that up. What if tomorrow he said he no longer wanted to be friends with her? What if he said he had finally come to his senses and realized she was much more trouble than she was worth? Or worse--what if he didn't even say anything at all and just ignored her completely tomorrow and went back to those monster friends he had before?
That tears began to steadily fall as Hermione's pity party grew more and more depressing. She missed her parents, her mentor Clarence--everything seemed to be overwhelming her all at once. Harry hated her, she just knew it! She had annoyed him. She was nagging too much. He didn't even say a word to her during the walk back from the Shrieking Shack. She was back to being alone and Harry was going to go back to his friends.
Part of Hermione knew was being too dramatic. People had little quarrels all the time. What she has with Harry couldn't even be considered a row really. Things would be fine, the logical part said.
But there was another side of her--the side that was dramatic and irrational that told her it was over. This side of her made a mountain out of nothing but a grain of sand. This Hermione was almost falling over the edge of all reason and sanity. She was done. Everything was just too much. She thought she could handle it, but she couldn't. This whole business with Voldemort and hatred from the Wizarding World was getting to her. She would never be accepted. Everything was so bloody…stupid! Stupid magic. Stupid students. Stupid professors. Stupid Avery and the way he had enticed her. Stupid Luna and her begging voice of reason. Stupid Ron and Draco and their stupid spider. Stupid Hogwarts. Stupid Dumbledore and his manipulations. He truly made her feel as if she'd someday fit in and be part of the grand scheme of things. He honestly made her believe in herself. It was all a damn sham. Most of all, stupid Harry Potter and his delicious junk food and Hogsmeade tour and midnight adventure to the Shrieking Shack and the way he had come to gain her trust. It was over. She was through.
She wanted to go home.
All these negative and powerful sensations welled up inside of Hermione. She threw her comforter off and jumped out of her bed. It was all too much right now. With energy she didn't know she even possessed at the moment, Hermione quickly changed her clothes. After donning on jeans, a t-shirt, a hoody that was coincidently the gray one Harry had loaned to her earlier, and trainers, Hermione was ready. Driven by pure adrenaline, she grabbed her wand and left. The Common Room was even darker now than it had been earlier, but Hermione took no notice of it. She hurriedly strode out of the room and down the corridor. She didn't think about getting caught. She didn't have the slightest clue what she was even doing.
Hermione just wanted out.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Why should I care?
'Cause you weren't there when I was scared
I was so alone...
You, you need to listen!
I'm startin' to trip,
I'm losin' my grip
And I'm in this thing alone...
"Losing Grip" AVRIL LAVIGNE
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Luckily, she met no one save the ghost of Gryffindor, Nearly Headless Nick. He had inquired to why she was out of bed, but Hermione just rudely told him to go get stuffed.
The snow outside was falling wildly. Hermione could barely make out her and Harry's footprints from their adventure earlier. She forced her mind to remain blank. Normally, being outside on the grounds alone in the dark would terrify Hermione. But not tonight. Tonight , so much feeling and emotion was coursing through her veins that she almost dared anyone or anything to try to mess with her, just so she would have an excuse to destroy them. She felt as if she could take on the Devil himself if he made an appearance.
The trip to the village of Hogsmeade was a short one, or so it felt. Once she was inside the village limits, only then could Hermione stop to fully take it her actions. How long had she been walking? Half an hour? An hour? Three hours? She seemed to have lost all sense of time perception on this night. Every event melded into the next, blurring the lines of each affair. What time was it? More importantly, now that she was no longer restricted by Anti-Apparation Charms, what next? Where should she go?
Home? As much as her home called to her, Hermione wasn't ready to face her parents, especially in the almost-lunatic state she was in now.
Clarence. She could always go to Clarence. With that thought in mind, Hermione cast a last glance around the village and one more in the direction she had come, the Castle. On a normal day, from her vantage point, Hermione would have been able to see Hogwarts. But now all she could see was a stretch of darkness and white snow fluttering around. Hermione took a deep breath, released it, and Disapparated with a tiny 'pop.'
Never, in all her life, had the sight of Clarence's library given Hermione the feelings she felt now. So much had occurred since the last time she stood here. With tears in her eyes, Hermione rushed up the steps and began hitting the door. The door was locked. Of course it was locked. Hermione ran around the library to a small add-on cottage door where she knew her mentor resided. She rang the doorbell several times, hiccupping and shivering the entire time. Finally, a light came to life inside the cottage and relief swept over Hermione. The door opened and Hermione's wild brown eyes sought her mentor's before pulling the older woman into a big bear hug. A faint clatter was heard as Clarence dropped her wand to the floor.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
I look forward, to dying tonight
Drinks 'till I'm myself, life's harder every day
The stress has got me
I'm giving in
Giving
Giving in, NO!
Take me under
(I'm killing all the pain)
I'm dying tonight
(I'm sick of all this pain)
Watch me crumble
(I'm killing all the pain)
I'm crying tonight
"Giving In" ADEMA
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Clarence could see the state Hermione was in and was immediately concerned. She pulled her into the small den and sat down on the sofa. Hermione didn't seem to care about where they were, she just continued to sob into the old woman's chest. Clarence held the young girl and let her cry. The sight broke the witch's heart. Hermione was such a special girl. After awhile, Hermione's shaking body ceased and her sobs grew silent. Clarence saw that the exhausted girl had fallen asleep.
The woman put Hermione to bed, careful not to wake her before contemplating the situation before her. Hermione had left Hogwarts, obviously. She did not know the reason, but that could wait until tomorrow morning. Right now, she needed to let Albus know of this recent change of events. She hated to disturb the headmaster at such early hours, but it needed to be done. Using the Floo Network, she contacted his main office. With nothing but her head floating in the green flames of the fireplace, she saw the study was deserted, as anticipated, except for a large bird.
"Fawkes!" Clarence half-shouted to wake the slumbering phoenix. "Fawkes!!!" The bird's eyes opened and it gazed warily at the person who intruded its sleep. "Go wake Albus. This is a matter of importance." Clarence instructed.
Fawkes let out a gentle noise of approval before disappearing into a small hole near a door that lead to the headmaster's chambers. A minute later, Albus came into the room wearing a light blue nightgown and a matching stalking hat.
"Clarence! What a pleasant surprise. This isn't a visit of ill-nature, I hope?" he asked, straightening his half-moon spectacles as he came closer to his fireplace where the witch's head floated in the flames.
"Hello, Albus. I'm so sorry to disturb you at such early hours, but this is rather important." Clarence apologized.
"Oh nonsense! A visit from such a good friend is welcomed any time of day. What can I help you with?" he inquired gently.
Clarence sighed. "It's Hermione. She just showed up on my doorstep not an hour ago, soaked to the bone and crying. She didn't say anything, just hugged me and cried her poor, exhausted soul to sleep. She's in bed now. I'm going to keep her here for the night and possibly all day tomorrow. The girl is gravely upset." Clarence explained softly, thinking of Hermione's behavior.
Albus nodded. "Well, that is something. Perhaps Potter will know something. I shall summon him tomorrow. They've grown to be quite good friends." He replied, a twinkle in his blue eyes.
Clarence smiled. "I think she's rather fond of him. She wrote me a letter telling me about their new friendship. Eustace would be so proud."
"Aye, he would. Perhaps those two will change everything." Albus said heavily. "If given the chance, that is. Both have been kept in the dark for so long…they have no idea how much is riding on the pair of them."
Clarence nodded in agreement. "Hermione has asked me questions inquiring the behavior of the other students and other things lately."
Albus raised an eyebrow. "What things?" he asked.
"She didn't say. As I've told you before, I never told her anything about, well, anything. I believe that was a mistake on my part. She wasn't properly prepared." Clarence said sadly.
"Don't beat yourself up about it. There is a lot both her and Harry don't know. Perhaps it's time to tell them. Or maybe it isn't. We can't protect them forever. But we can't predict the future either. Some things are better left unsaid. We don't know how threatening Voldemort is or ever will be. For all we know, he may never rise again. Right now, we just have to trust in them to form an everlasting bond. I firmly believe they are the Two." he confessed.
The absence of surprise on Clarence's face told the headmaster he was wasn't the only one who had been considering this.
The two were left in silence.
A few minutes ticked by before Clarence told him she had better turn in and she would contact him again tomorrow when she knew more about the situation. "Until then, bless you Albus."
After checking on Hermione one last time, Clarence resigned herself to sleep with guilt on her conscious.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Hermione woke to the aroma of what smelled like a delicious breakfast. She took in her unfamiliar surroundings at first with slight fright. She wasn't in her dormitory. The events of the night before flooded back to her and she relaxed. After stretching and making up the bed, she sought out her good friend whom she found in the kitchen.
"Good morning, Hermione. You slept well, I hope?" Clarence greeted her with a smile.
Hermione felt instant embarrassment for just showing up here last night. She tried to hide it with a smile. "Good morning. I slept well enough, thanks. I'm sorry for just showing up like I did. I realize--"
"Oh posh! It is perfectly fine. I'm more concerned about you, dear. Are you okay?" Clarence drew the girl into a hug.
Hermione smiled affectionately. This was nice. Oh how she missed feeling so close to someone.
"How about we discuss it over breakfast? I made your favorite!" Clarence proposed happily.
Hermione grinned. "I'd like that." she responded, feeling a sudden warmth creep over her.
An hour later found the pair of them with their hunger satisfied from the tasty breakfast and in deep conversation. Hermione told Clarence almost everything. She left out her dreams and Avery. And the deadly spider she had been threatened with. She did tell Clarence more about Ron and Draco then she had in her previous letter. Clarence listened, asking questions occasionally. She told her of her and Harry's day the day before. Of their light conversation to the new revelations concerning Hermione's ancestry. Then she told her of how she nagged Harry and screw up their friendship.
Clarence almost laughed at Hermione's rash and hasty conclusions. "Is that all? Hermione, your friendship with Harry is not over just because of that! Honestly! Consider the situation."
Hermione looked back and began to ponder last night with a clear head. After a few minutes, she grinned and slowly said, "I suppose it would be a tad ridiculous," she reasoned, embarrassed for her quick conclusions. "I'm sorry, everything was just so overwhelming. Nothing was looked at in proper perspective," she confessed.
Clarence nodded in understanding. "Yes, it seems things haven't been the best for you at the moment. Perhaps you should let Harry know about these friends of his. Now, about what Harry told you…" Clarence began, as her guilt came back. "It's my fault. I'm sorry, I should have told you so you would have understood. I was trying to protect you--"
Hermione interrupted her, "No, it's okay. I understand why you did it. Seventh Year is stressful enough without all this crap. Why add to it, right? Harry told me everything he knows. I was just confused for awhile, that's all." Hermione couldn't get angry at Clarence. She had done too much for her.
There was a silence for a few moments.
Clarence cleared her throat, "So, now what?" she asked.
Hermione shrugged. Last night, she was ready to give up everything. She was done. Now…last night's thoughts seemed to be a little on the irrational side. She loved magic. She loved Hogwarts. How could she give it all up? Last night was mad. Now that she cooled off, things looked much better. "Last night, I wanted to just quit. Everything was too much. Now, everything is different though nothings has changed at all. Am I making any sense?" she asked.
Clarence smiled lovingly, "Of course. A new light makes everything look a little different."
"Do I have to go back now?" Hermione asked, hoping Clarence wouldn't send her off right away.
"Of course not. How about you spend the day here, and see if you're ready to go back tonight?" she posed.
"That sounds excellent!" Hermione grinned.
Clarence stood. "Brilliant." she clapped her hands. "How about a peek in the library? I think the dust mites have missed your presence." She teased.
Hermione laughed. "Sounds absolutely grand!"
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Hermione wasn't at breakfast. Or in the Library. Or outside. Or in the Common Room.
Harry was getting worried. Sure, they had had a little spat the night before, but that was nothing. Was she avoiding him now? He'd even checked his map, and still couldn't find his friend.
Where could she be?
Sirius was gone too, so Harry couldn't talk to him. He was to be back before the evening. He had errands to run.
Now Harry was clueless on what to do. Was she going to stay in her dorm all day? He didn't see her on the map, but by chance, he may have missed her.
Finally, after getting frustrated that she wasn't going to come down, he decided he would go up to her. Obviously she was upset. So was he, but he wasn't going to ignore her!
Because boys couldn't be trusted and couldn't go up the Girls' Staircase, he has to improvise--his Firebolt. She had pointed out the window of her dormitory once before while they were talking about the views they each got from their room, so he knew which was hers. He stealthily flew to her room under his Invisibility Cloak.
Once he managed to get through all the locks and charms on the window and stepped into the room, he thought me had possibly mistaken the window. The room was almost bare. Then his eyes fell on the one bed that showed life. And it was empty. There was only one occupant in the room, and Harry already recognized the things by the bed as Hermione's. Hermione had her own dorm? Why? The privacy would be nice, but sharing dorms with friends was part of the fun here at Hogwarts. He instantly felt sympathy for his friend. Others must have kicked her out or teased her so much she finally found a deserted dormitory. Sudden anger towards the other girls flared up inside him. People were so cruel it was sickening.
He called out Hermione's name to the apparently empty room and got no response. She wasn't in the bathroom either.
He felt awkward and as if he was crossing a line here. He was in her room without her permission. This was wrong. It was almost like betraying her trust or something. He was about to leave the same way he had come when a picture on her bedside table caught his attention. He sat down gingerly on her unmade bed--which struck him as odd because she seemed like the type to make up her bed every morning--and picked up the silver frame. It was a photograph of Hermione and who he assumed were her parents. They all looked so happy, with their straight, white teeth gleaming in the picture. Harry smiled. He liked seeing her this happy.
Finally he put the photograph down and examined the other things on the table: a few pens and pencils, a tube of vanilla-pineapple chapstick, a red candle, some matches, and a small stack of reading books. He eyed the little handle used to open the drawer with slight apprehension. After casting a look around the room as if to make sure he was indeed alone, he slowly opened the drawer. There was an assortment of junk tidily put away: a few notebooks, a small bag of candy, a crumbled up piece of paper, some gum, and other ordinary things. He inspected the candy and laughed at the label that read 'sugarless.' He picked up the crumbled piece of paper and smoothed it out so he could see what it was. It had been torn apart and this was the lower half of the ripped page. He immediately recognized the scrawl as Hermione's. Her handwriting started out neat, but soon became barely legible as if she couldn't seem to write fast enough. He began to read what he soon realized must have been a journal entry of some sort:
feel powerful and in command. I have supporters that do anything I ask of them and I. . .I dunno, it's kind of amazing. But at what expense? I have to TAKE PEOPLE'S LIVES!!! How horrible am I?! I just dunno, it's all very confusing and terrible. I don't have anyone to tell either. I can't tell Harry, I just can't! What would he think of me then? He'll probably think I'm mad and completely evil, but I'm not! Though honestly, I don't see how he could be bothered with it. After all, he other friends--that Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy--are positively terrifyingly evil judging by that nasty run-in we had in the Common Room all those nights ago while Harry was out doing his Head Boy rounds.
Harry paused at the names of his two best friends and reread the sentence. When did this happen? What was she talking about? He continued:
I mean, I'm dreaming about murdering people, they almost killed me, threatening me with that THING! Right in the middle of the bloody Common Room too! I still lock my door and windows every night with every charm I can think of in fear of them and what they might do. Does Harry know how cruel they are?!?! I'm got to get them back though, mark my words.
He read the entry over and over, trying to make sense of it. He didn't' understand. What dreams? Where was the rest of this damn paper!?
He quickly sifted through the rest of the drawer, trying to find the other half, but couldn't. He swore under his breath. Hermione was dreaming about killing people?! He hoped she was talking about the dreams at he beginning of this snippet of the entry. She couldn't kill anyone--no way. And what was this business about Ron and Draco? What had they done? Harry's mind was reeling with these new revelations. He quickly stood and grabbed his Firebolt and cloak. He may not be able to find out anything about her dreams at the moment, but he could take care of the Ron and Draco bit. A minute later, he was soaring back to his dorm window, paper still in hand.
He had to find them. They weren't anywhere in Gryffindor Tower. He was heading down to the Great Hall --hand tightly gripped on his wand--when he got stopped by Professor McGonagall. "Potter!" she snapped sharply. The headmaster would like to see you immediately."
Harry had to hide his look of contempt. Now? He growled internally. "Yes, Professor." As he crossed the Entrance Hall to the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office, he glanced into the Great Hall and caught sight of the infamous head of read hair of Ron Weasley. It was all he could do to restrain himself from marching over there and demand to know what he and Draco had done.
Fuming, Harry was surprised to find himself in front of the headmaster's office. He knocked, heard Dumbledore call him in, then enter the familiar circular study. The familiar sight of fragile silver instruments emitting little puffs of smoke and purring with a soft humming sound sitting on tables with spindle-legs came into view. The headmaster greeted him with a serene smile. Harry could here the portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses talking amongst themselves.
"Hello, Harry, how are you? I hope this fine day finds you in good health." he said cheerfully, gesturing for his pupil to take a seat across from him in a leather chair.
"I'm fine thanks. And yourself, Professor?" Harry asked politely, taking a seat.
"As good as a man of my age can be. I just fancied a nice chat if you don't mind." the old wizard replied.
Harry nodded, assuming the conversation had something to do with this Head Boy duties.
"So how was yesterday's trip to Hogsmeade?" Albus asked, throwing Harry off guard.
"Um, pretty good. I had the chance to give Hermione a proper tour of the village." Harry replied awkwardly, unsure of where this was going.
"Ah, yes, Miss Granger. You two seem to be getting along quite nicely." he observed, his light blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "You are no doubt a little concerned about her current whereabouts, I'm sure?" he inquired conversationally.
Harry raised an eyebrow. How'd he know Hermione had been eluding him all day? "Actually, yeah. I haven't seen her all day. I've searched the Castle." Harry told him.
"Well, Miss Granger isn't in the Castle. She showed up at Clarence's--I'm sure you know of her--" Harry nodded. "doorstep in the middle of the night. She was quite upset." Dumbledore informed him.
This was news to Harry. "Are you serious?" he blurted out before he had time to think.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, I am 'serious.' I summoned you to my office to inform you she is perfectly safe and I must inquire as to if you happen to know the reason why she is so upset." He gazed at Harry expectantly.
Harry didn't know what to say. Was it because of last night? He felt terrible. He hadn't meant to make Hermione so upset. "I'm not sure if this is why she was upset or not, but something happened last night. We were hanging out in the Sh--Common Room and everything was fine. It was pretty late, past midnight perhaps. Somehow we got on the topic of the Potter-Granger rivalry. She didn't know anything about it or why the students were treating her the way they were. I told her all I knew, and I dunno, something came over her. She paled significantly, and it looked like she might have been dizzy. Well, before I knew it, she got sick. I was holding her hair back and…" Harry wasn't sure how to go on. Should he tell the headmaster about his scar? He would probably know more than Sirius would. He took a deep breath. "Well, see, something weird has been happening. Every time I touch Hermione, I get this pain on my forehead. I've reasoned that it must be my scar. I don't understand why. I mean, I got this when I was just a baby. My parents were in a car accident. And I dunno, every time we touch, even if our arms just brush up against each other, it hurts. It hurt again last night when I touched her. I had never made the connection before. It had hurt more last night than it ever hand before. She kept ask if I was okay while I was trying to sort it all out. I guess I was a bit of a prat and kinda snapped at her. I probably appeared to be angry with her. And I kinda was because I realized she caused the pain. That made me angry because she's a good friend of mine. Anyway, it left thing awkward and, well, we said good night and I guess she left. She looked okay when she went back to her dorm." Harry told him all of the previous night's events.
Dumbledore was silent for a moment. "Your scar. You said it hurt worse last night than ever? How would you rate the pain?"
"Last night it hurt a lot more and for a long time, almost like I was hit in the head hard with something. Other times, it's usually just a pang or throb." Harry replied before asking the question that had been plaguing him, "Do you know why it's hurting?"
He headmaster cleared his throat. "I have theories, but nothing I'd trust saying at the moment." he replied evenly. "Scars are funny things. It's amazing how people can be linked and connected." He muttered, more to himself.
"How could we be connected through a scar I have that doesn't have anything to do with Hermione? Why would we have any connection at all? And why does it hurt at different levels of pain? I helped her to the Common Room once because she twisted her ankle. We were touching the entire time and my scar barely hurt. Last night, our skin made contact for only a split second and I thought I was going to die! What does this mean!?" Harry demanded, though not rudely.
The aged wizard looked at the young Gryffindor through his half-moons spectacles--the sparkle in his eyes gone--and replied heavily, "It means we may have a big problem."
Well, what did everyone think?! I really hope no one was too disappointed. I'll try not to wait such a long time before I post next…and I really doubt it will actually be that long. My goal in by the end of next week (no promises though!). All my friends are leaving for a whole week for a trip for a class, so I'll be alone. And my online courses aren't going to be all that demanding next week, so I should have loads of free time!
As always, please review! I love those things!
Toodles!
*~Archie~*