Disclaimer: Everything concerning Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. I own nothing, nor is this done for any purpose except my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of anyone reading this. There is no attempt to make any profit.
The Most Ancient Magic
Chapter Twenty-Three: Trials and Troubles
After dropping his books in his room he headed to the Great Hall for dinner. As he approached the entrance door he thought he glimpsed Hermione standing on a landing above the main staircase. She drew quickly back out of sight, so he pretended he had not seen her.
He found Ginny eating and asked if he could join her. She was nearly finished but sat with him for a few minutes while they chatted about the week. He tried to be polite but as soon as he could he asked her how Hermione was doing.
"I haven't seen her much, she looks tired, and I overheard Lavender saying she has been having nightmares. What happened to her, Harry?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably, "I can't say, Ginny, please don't ask me for more information. I hope she will tell you one day. Would you keep an eye on her for me. I love her, help me? please?"
He looked so lost that she gave him a hug as she rose to leave. As he watched Ginny go, he noticed Hermione cramming her food at the other end of the table. As Ginny approached Hermione got up and left quickly.
The weekend passed slowly for Harry. He spent some time researching memory charms, juggling, and making sure his homework was caught up. He was far enough ahead to give some of Saturday to watch the Gryffindor team practice Quidditch. He hoped Hermione would be proud.
Tuesday he caught up with Ginny again. Hermione was much the same. Harry inquired into how she was doing.
"Ok, Katie and Ron have a special practice set up before match on Saturday, we have a couple of new moves we are going to try against Ravenclaw. I may be riding your Firebolt this weekend," she added hopefully.
Harry leaned over and gave her a kiss on her cheek, "For luck, and thanks for looking after her for me, I really appreciate it."
As he turned to leave he saw Hermione standing halfway down the table, looking at them. Hermione looked down at the floor, turned around, and walked quickly from the Great Hall.
Harry tried to catch her, he hoped that she might have wanted to talk, but by the time he reached the doors of the Great Hall she was no where to be seen. His disappointment was bitter.
As the day wore on he felt no better, and by the time evening rolled around he was feeling thoroughly miserable. For no reason he could fathom he took his mirror and called "Remus Lupin."
He stared at his reflection for a few minutes, just as he was going to put the mirror away his reflection was replaced by Lupin's face, "I wondered if you were ever going to try to talk to me." He smiled at Harry, "I was going to ask how everything was going for Hermione and you, but I can see from your expression that the answer to that is, not too well."
Harry poured out the story of what had happened since he had first contacted Lupin with his problem. "Sorry, Harry, you are going through the most difficult part right now. The worst feeling in the world is wanting to help, but there is nothing you can do. Give Hermione some space and let Professor Sprout do her job, and I believe everything will turn out all right. Do you want me to contact Dumbledore and see if they will renew my visitor's privileges so we can talk face to face?"
"Not now," answered Harry, "but if nothing happens maybe we might meet in Hogsmead. I can talk to Professor Sprout, she told me she would talk anytime I needed to."
"Ok, Harry, let me know if I can do anything for you, and don't be afraid to call."
Harry felt better after talking to Lupin, and as the week crawled on he wondered if talking to Professor Sprout might help more. He spent his time in the library or in his room grinding out his homework with grim determination, trying to shove the memory of doing this kind of thing with Hermione to the back of his mind. After Tuesday morning he did not see her, except in class, where she appeared to be ignoring him.
What happened that Friday he could never explain, but after his last class he went to his room, feeling more miserable than he could ever remember. It felt as if the weight and grief of his entire life had fallen on him and if it had been colder he might have suspected that there was a Dementor nearby.
He fell to his knees before the sofa, buried his head in his arms and began to weep silent, bitter tears. He cried until his tears were spent and somewhere along the way he passed into a fitful sleep.
The door to his room opened silently, "Harry?" she called softly but there was no answer. Hermione and her seven companions entered quietly and shut the door behind them.
Hermione looked around the small room, finding Harry kneeling before the sofa. She sat down beside him, watching him. Like a small child that had cried itself to sleep Harry was making small sobbing noises as he slept. In spite of herself she reached out and began to run her fingers through his unruly hair in an effort to soothe him.
Harry responded to the familiar touch, "Hermione," he asked sleepily, " izz'at you? Please don … be … dream."
"No, Harry, it's not a dream," she answered softly. "It's my nightmare," she added under her breath.
He opened his eyes and started backward in surprise. His mind was not fully awake and he could make no sense of what his eyes were telling him. The thing sitting beside him, using Hermione's voice, had no face. He tried to get away as he fumbled for his wand, he believed he was under attack by Dementors.
"Harry," she said as she lifted her veil, "it's me." Hermione was wearing a black veil, as were her companions.
"Who are you?" he asked again, looking wildly around the room, "What do you want?"
Hermione was trying to be patient, but there was an edge to her voice as she explained, "These people are my support group. They are the help that you asked McGonagall to get for me, and they are here to help me. They are wearing veils to protect their privacy, I don't know all of them yet, but since they all seem to know me I'm taking mine off."
Harry looked at Hermione, her face was pale and drawn. There were dark circles under her eyes and she was glancing around the room as though she expected to be attacked. His heart was broken anew as he looked at her, "Oh, Hermione," he whispered, "how are you?" He began to get up off of the floor.
Her voice became sharp, "Harry, please … quit torturing me. I came so you could break up with me." Her lower lip quivered and she appeared on the verge of tears.
Instantly the strength left Harry's legs and he collapsed against the fireplace, sitting down hard on the floor. Professor Sprout's words replayed in his head, but he had to hear it from Hermione herself, "Why?" He was barely able to ask the question.
Hermione's words were full of pain and she could barely choke them out, "I know you want to break up with me … I've seen you with … her. You … kissed … Ginny. I know she likes you. I hit you … destroyed the things … you-I just want you to yell at me and get it over with." She began to cry. "It's all my fault … I don't blame you. After all you did … and I've treated you so badly. I know you want someone who's … clean-,"
"DON'T YOU GO ONE MORE STEP DOWN THAT ROAD, HERMIONE GRANGER!"
Harry and Hermione both turned to face the voice. The red-haired girl seemed imbued with a kind of majesty as she stepped forward, removing her veil, "Ginny?" they exclaimed. Harry had noticed the same thing about her mother when she was angry with the twins, and now Hermione appeared to shrink before her wrath.
Hermione was obviously deeply shocked, "Ginny, what happened to you, why are you in the group?" Suddenly she was concerned for her friend.
Ginny's voice was tinged with bitterness, "I don't expect your memory to be exactly clear on this, you were in the hospital wing, petrified, at the time Harry saved me. Ten months of seduction and mind rape by You-Know-," she stamped her foot and took a deep breath, "by V-V-Voldemort sort of qualifies me for membership, don't you think?"
She whirled and faced the group, "Hermione is my friend, so the rules are just going to have to be bent. I don't care. Harry and Hermione use V-Voldemort's name so I can too, I'm through being too afraid to use his name."
Ginny turned back to Hermione, she was speaking quickly, but her voice carried compassion, "First, you aren't feeling dirt, mainly you are feeling guilt. It's a trap, Hermione. You want to have control, everybody does, but that is an illusion. That monster used you, he was big and he surprised you. He took from you the idea that you control your body. The spirit of his anger and lust contaminated your innocence. But now you want to convince yourself that you can be in control again, rather than accept that there are enemies that you can't fight alone and will control you unless you have help. But by holding on to control you hold onto responsibility, you hold onto guilt and in that guilt is bound the spirit that makes you feel dirty. Embrace the truth, total control is an illusion, accept the fact that there are those who can use you against your will if you don't take steps to defend yourself. Let go of the responsibility, the fault will go, and the guilt will go, and the dirt will go too.
"Second, Harry isn't interested in me. All he has been doing is trying to pump me for information about you. He's been frantic with worry about you since we got back to school. You've no idea how hard this has been for me. On the train I thought you two were just having a fight. When we got back to school they told me we had a new member and an emergency meeting," Ginny's face twisted as she began to cry, "Oh, Hermione … it was you!" She stepped to her friend and hugged her. "I imagined horrible things, I even thought that Harry might have … I just couldn't believe it. They wouldn't let me talk to you, it's best if you can be impersonal at first, it makes things easier. Then Harry started on me, I couldn't tell him what I knew and he wouldn't tell me anything either, he hasn't betrayed you, Hermione. He tells everyone he loves you. You don't really want to break up with him, do you? He doesn't want to break up with you."
"I don't see how he can keep from hating me after what I did to him," she whispered.
"Talk to him, Hermione, that's between him and you," suggested Ginny.
Harry had crawled to the sofa and sat down next to Hermione, "I'm so sorry, Hermione, I should have told you that I was going to tell Professor McGonagall. I'm not like you, I didn't know how to help you. I had to tell someone, please forgive me."
Hermione was staring at the floor, "I hit you," she said quietly, more to herself than to Harry, "all you did was try to help … I slapped your beautiful face."
Harry gently took her hand, "Hermione, I understand, you were upset. We fought so hard to keep your secret from your parents. Then it must have seemed like I had betrayed you when Professor McGonagall came to you, especially since you have so much respect for her and want her to respect you." Harry sighed, "It's just like third year, you have so much on your mind, you are so tired, it's just you hit me instead of Malfoy." In spite of herself the corners of Hermione's mouth twitched at the memory. "I forgive you, Hermione, if you can forgive me."
"I destroyed it, Harry, the mirror you gave me," she said dully.
"Never try to throw anything past a Quidditch Keeper, they can't help trying to catch things, it's in their blood, I have it here, if you want it," Harry took the mirror from his pocket.
Hermione took the mirror, but still refused to look at him. "I threw my locket out of the window of the train, Harry, it's gone," she whispered.
"First, I gave it to you, it's yours to do with as you please. It is a thing, Hermione, it commemorated a moment that was important to me, to us, a time when I was in pain and you helped. I remember a beautiful day on the beach. I still have that memory in my heart. Don't let a thing come between us, you are more important to me than it is."
Hermione slowly looked at him as he continued, "Second, didn't you tell me that it doesn't matter how far away an object is when you do a summoning charm, that if you concentrate really hard then it will come." Hermione nodded. "Try to summon it, just remember though, my heart comes with the gold one."
Her hand trembled as she drew her wand and closed her eyes. "I'll try," her voice quivered, "but that was two weeks ago, someone is bound to have found it by now." "Accio locket," she commanded. Harry drew the locket from his pocket and placed it in Hermione's outstretched hand. Her eyes popped open in astonishment as she felt the warm gold against her skin. The group members came closer to see it, murmuring in amazement.
"Third, my love, we have some really good friends that take care of us, even when we do things we will later regret. Luna retrieved it right after you threw it out. Can you forgive me? I forgive you."
"I want to forgive you, Harry, but … I …," she stammered.
A second member of the group came forward, lifting her veil. It was the girl who had picked up his books that day in front of the library. There were some whispers from the other members. She spoke to them, "I've heard nothing but good about Harry Potter ever since I was a little girl, I trust him to keep my secret and respect my privacy. Hermione, all you have to do is accept the forgiveness he's offered you. All the things you thought were gone, he's restored to you. Just say 'Yes, I accept your forgiveness.' Please Hermione, you are my hope," she said as tears started in her eyes, "hope I can find someone to love me like Harry loves you. I heard him tell Justin that he loves you. Don't let pride stand in your way."
"I don't know what to do," Hermione said quietly.
Professor Sprout's voice spoke from the door, "If you will, just say, 'I accept your forgiveness, Harry'. Then whenever the doubt comes, remember this moment. Relive the acceptance of forgiveness and go on living in the knowledge of it. Believe the knowledge in your head not the doubt in your heart.
"Do the same with the knowledge of the attack on your person. Get up each day and get going, and when the memory comes to mind, accept it as something that is a part of you, something that you have overcome. You are not alone in this and, unfortunately, your experience is not rare. We all experience flashbacks, when they come we will be here to help, our group extends beyond Hogwarts. Remember what your friends have said, as terrible as it was, it has made you a caring, more sensitive person. What you endured then helps you make the world better now. At first it will happen five times a day, as time goes on five times a week, later five times a month, at last it will only be a few times a year. Turn from the memory, study, talk to friends, help somebody around you. The important thing is not to let this trap you inside yourself. Turn outward and live.
"The emotions are shame, humiliation, and anger. Shame is a mask for self-pity, let go of it, you are not responsible. Humiliation is a function of your pride, replace it with concern for others. It won't be too hard, you do it so much already. Anger will trap you in the past, let it go too. Or, it is difficult, but try to redirect and harness it, let it drive you to do something positive for others."
Professor Sprout came and placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder, "The choice is yours. Don't be discouraged, all these things are like baby steps when you want to run and like a small bandage over a large gash, but you have to start somewhere. Love is the great healer, but it takes time and you are now only beginning."
"I accept your forgiveness, Harry." Her voice was flat. Hermione looked unhappily at the very faint bruise on his face. She kissed the palm of her hand and placed it over his cheek, "And I am really sorry I hit you." Harry took the locket and fastened it around her throat.
"I should have told you what I was going to get help from Professor McGonagall."
"Yes, Harry, that would have been better, I wouldn't have been surprised that she knew. So what now?"
"You look really tired, Hermione, why don't you get some rest. Tomorrow meet me by the lake at eleven o'clock, I have some notes for you. If you are up to it, we can go to the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw tomorrow afternoon, after that you can work in the library, alone if you want to, I'm sure you have a lot of work to catch up on. Later we can get together whenever you feel like it and when you need space just let me know. Please, just don't exclude me from helping you anymore."
Hermione looked at Harry, she wasn't happy, but there was a look of peace creeping into her expression, "Ok."
Professor Sprout asked, "Mr. Potter, what is that mirror for?"
In answer Harry drew his own mirror out, "My dad and his friends used to use these. He held it so Sprout could see and said, 'Hermione Granger'. In moments his own reflection faded and was replaced by Hermione's image.
Professor Sprout looked at him in surprise. Her hand was poised at her throat, "So that's how they did it!" she exclaimed. "Those devils! No wonder they always came up with the same story." Tears started in her eyes as she looked at Harry, "You have missed so much because of your parent's death. I have some stories for you, Mr. Potter, drop around and we'll talk."
Harry nodded and said, "I will, Professor."
"I'll see if the coast is clear," said Ginny. She slipped out, returning a few moments later. "We can go." The girls in the group began slipping out one by one. As they stepped through Harry's door, each removed her veil, gave it a quick twist and tied it around her waist. Against their black work robes the veils were invisible.
"Are you coming or staying, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Sprout.
Hermione sighed, "I think I'll stay for a little while, Professor." Sprout followed the group out of the room.
She looked at Harry, "Thank you for getting help for me, Harry. I was really angry you told my secret, but now it looks like it is the best thing you could have done. They were right, they told me what you would say, I wouldn't believe them. I saw you kiss Ginny, and I just knew that you didn't love me anymore."
"It's ok, Hermione, with all you've been through, and everything you have on your mind and school work on top of that, it's a wonder you can do anything at all."
"I'm kind of hungry, Harry. Do you want to go to dinner with me?" she asked hopefully.
A short time later Professor McGonagall saw them come through the doors of the Great Hall. Her hand flew to her mouth in surprise. Harry was carrying his staff, but he didn't need it. Hermione was walking close beside him, his arm was draped over her shoulder, her arm around his waist guiding and supporting him. McGonagall looked at Dumbledore, he was watching with a small smile. There were many others scattered through the hall who were smiling too. To those who knew, it seemed that things would be getting back to normal for Hermione.
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Harry would remember the next few weeks as on oasis of peace and quiet as he and Hermione rebuilt their relationship. They didn't spend as much time together as he would have liked, but she was including him in how the group was helping her.
"They are in awe of you, Harry. Everything you said has been a real help in my coming to terms with this," she told him as they knitted one evening. Harry was learning to knit with magic too, though he still preferred to use the needles with his hands. "I feel really sorry for those who try to deal with this kind of thing alone."
Harry was seeing Professor Sprout as he tried to work through his anger at Hermione's attacker and his helplessness at helping Hermione with her problem.
Things were slowly getting better for them. The only thing that puzzled him at the time was the odd feeling he got when he managed to steal a goodnight kiss from Hermione. Somehow he always felt they were being watched. When he mentioned it, Hermione giggled for the first time in what seemed forever, "Well, Harry, from what Mum said they've been dealing with raging hormones here for a thousand years. What we're doing here isn't exactly new." At last Hermione seemed able to relax when he held her. She smiled and said, "Oh, and Mum warned me she doesn't want any letters from school saying I was caught snogging you in some broom closet."
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The mid-February day that changed everything began iron-gray and cold. Harry entered the Great Hall and sat down for breakfast. It was not long before he was joined by Ron and Hermione. Harry was glad to see that they were getting along better since Christmas. The fact that they were on different career paths seemed to help, Ron was not treating everything like a competition. Hermione was helping him arrange his study time and the fact that he had become totally dedicated to mastering everything necessary to begin training as a healer left him no time for anything except study and Quidditch. His focus and dedication to becoming a healer was almost scary to watch.
The morning went normally, lunch came and went, and Harry went to meet with Professor Sprout after his last class.
He entered the Great Hall and sat down, it was a bit early, but he needed to spend some time in the library. A shadow fell across his plate and he looked up to find Professor Snape standing behind him. Harry thought he had an odd expression on his face, "Mr. Potter, you are wanted in the Headmaster's office, as fast as you can get there."
Harry gathered his things and set off for Dumbledore's office. As he left the more traveled passages behind he gathered speed. The stone gargoyle stood out of the way in anticipation of his arrival.
Entering the office he found Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Hermione, and her two support group sponsors. Dumbledore's expression was grave and his posture indicated great anger. McGonagall was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. The sponsors were veiled, but Harry could hear them crying softly. Hermione sat forlorn and defeated in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. Harry went to her side, she looked at him with empty, lifeless eyes. The sour smell on her breath told its own story.
Seeing him she stood, put her arms around him, and buried her face against his neck. As his arms encircled her shoulders, he knew.
Hermione was beyond tears, she could hardly say, "Oh, Harry, my parents, my home, they're gone. All gone … I'm all alone … what am I going to do?"