Disclaimer: All characters, events and references drawn from HP belong to J.K. Rowling, etc., respectively, everything else is my own invention.
FORESIGHT
PART ONE
Harry closed his eyes, his breath rapid and tense. It had been a while since he had run for so long without stopping. He was fatigued and wanted more than anything to be able to just climb into a soft bed and sleep. But it was neither physical fatigue nor the enemies he had been running from that plagued his thoughts most at the moment.
There it was again, a sharp pain that ran through his mind, plunging deep into his heart. If he could explain what the pain was like, burning inside of him, he would probably compare it to the same pain he feels when his scar burns, except internally. He had experienced disappointment, loss and suffering in a multitude of ways during his young life, but this was something made terrible not by the blows of an enemy or the death of a loved one, but even worse, by someone very close to him - his best friend.
Perhaps burning wasn't a good description. It was more like a deep, gaping loss, something akin to the props being knocked out from underneath him, crippling his motivation and sapping his strength. He hated this feeling more than anything. It made him feel terribly vulnerable and weak in the light of what he knew was coming. He honestly couldn't see how he could stand against his nemesis like this. Something had to be done. This simply would not do. And he knew the answer lay with the one who was also the cause.
Harry opened his eyes again, lifting his head and looking over at a stand of trees only a few meters from his own resting spot. There she was, sitting up against a small ash, her body heaving from deep breaths, like him. She was sitting with her head buried in her arms folded over her bent knees. He watched as she slowly lifted her head, gazing blankly at nothing in front of her. She did a lot of that lately. Despite her attempt to regain a normal breathing pattern, her expression revealed that she too was under a heavy load mentally and emotionally, something which, to Harry, had seemed to consume her.
There, that was the problem. Something in her eyes. Something that he could tell was eating away at her, but was unable to speak of. He was used to her occasional mood swings and even female problems he knew were simply a part of life for girls. But Hermione had always been strong and stubborn enough to move forward no matter what was happening. That's one thing he really loved about his friend. He also loved the fragile side of her that showed she was sensitive and had real feelings that could be wounded. And it always angered him that Ron seemed to prove that last part more than anyone else. These two sides to Hermione's personality seemed to form a beautiful paradox that always made her interesting to be around. But whatever was bothering her now had reduced that paradox into a neutrality of neither strong headed stubbornness nor sensitivity.
Her recent tendency for reserve and quietness, keeping to herself even when alone with Ron and him, was something Harry couldn't get used to. He found that he really missed her quoting from some book she had recently read or giving her obviously correct opinion over some pressing issue. The worst part of all was what he perceived to be a break in the cord of communion that he had shared with her since their first year at Hogwarts together. There it was again. The pain. That generalized nothing that left him feeling empty. What was it? What has happened to Hermione to cause such a change in her behavior towards both of them? What was it that was causing Harry such confusion and loss in his own soul?
They were all seventeen now. Still very young, relatively speaking. But growing up in the wizarding world and already having faced many life threatening dangers together, they were mature beyond their years. But Harry was, like his friends, still learning the ropes. Still trying to understand his place in all this. And, no, he wasn't leaning on some prophecy or a famous persona to determine his destiny or identity. He would learn as he went. And one thing he had learned over the past couple of years was how much his two best friends factored in his thinking and sense of well-being. But now, with the recent change in Hermione, he had become painfully aware of the fact that he depended more heavily on her, psychologically, emotionally and even in her physical presence, than Ron.
His perception of his closeness with both friends was now very lopsided, tilting towards Hermione, especially as he watched the friend he regarded as a brother become more and more independent of him. Ron was no longer simply playing second fiddle to Harry and living in the shadow of the famous boy with the lightning shaped scar. Harry was very glad of this. In fact, he had been quietly encouraging Ron for quite a while now to stretch out his own legs and be his own man. Despite Ron's behavior their sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry had begun to see real progress in that. The three of them had been through a crazy sixth year, as he now looked at it. He still wondered if someone put something in Hogwart's drinking water that year to cause everyone to go on a strange binge of flirtation and silliness. At any rate, he was glad they were past all that. He really enjoyed being alone with his two best friends again, even if their quest for the horcruxes had taken them down some very dangerous paths. He felt the three of them were somewhat back to normal. That is, until a week ago.
Harry glanced over his left shoulder. Ron was lying on his back in the grass trying to catch his breath along with Ron's two older brothers Fred and George. They were both standing up, arms leaning against some larger trees, looking intently around the area, hoping to be able to spot danger before it surprised them all. Ginny too was anxious, sitting next to Hermione trying to recuperate from the intense sprint they had taken from the portkey a few miles back. Harry looked down at the ground in front of him, finally beginning to breath normally again. His shoes were colored in a bluish hue from the moonlight that shone from the large orb hanging low in the evening sky.
What could he do? This sense of loss between Hermione and him was getting to the point where he had trouble just thinking normally. How could something so seemingly small have such a huge impact on his own thoughts and feelings? Why was it affecting him this way? He had been wanting so badly to sit and talk with her about this for days now, but time and circumstance had not allowed it. His strong respect for and trust in his friend were also impediments. This aspect of their relationship was something he had become so accustomed to that he had taken it for granted. How many times did she believe him and believe in him when others, even their mutual friend Ron, was suspicious or accused him of wrong? He held that same kind of faith and trust in her judgment and character without question. Too much to simply assume she didn't know what was going on between them right now. But he had never really trod into the territory of her personal feelings and desires.
Occasionally she had opened up to him about things that concerned her, in those long talks they used to have in the common room at Gryffindor tower, talks that sometimes lasted into the early morning hours. He really missed that. But he never dared attempt to draw her out. No, he loved her too much to do that. Since the change, however, she rarely spoke with him on personal matters or even just friendly chat. That increased his sense of frustration to the point of feeling like he would lose his mind if she stayed this way much longer. He needed to know. He needed and wanted so much to help her with whatever was bothering her. Or he at least had to let her know, unequivocally, that he was there for her and would not leave his friend whom he had admired so much over the years.
Harry looked over at Hermione again. This time she was staring back at him. In the moonlight he could barely make out that same look he had noticed she would give him from time to time for seemingly no reason at all. That look of…longing?...or was it just sadness? Something seemed so vacant and missing from her beautiful brown eyes now. She glanced down and away from him only a few moments after he caught her looking at him. The pain came over him again, this time beginning to draw tears to his eyes. Hermione, what is it? He screamed out inside. Please tell me! I can't stand to see you like this! He closed his eyes to keep the tears from falling down his cheeks.
Wait a minute! He opened his eyes again, recalling a former thought, trying to wipe the water from his eyes quickly. Until a week ago. That's it! This whole thing started a week ago! What were we doing last week? Everything had seemed such a blur over the last several days. He started thinking back. Back before the second assault on Hogwarts by a much larger group of Death Eaters. An assault from which the three of them had narrowly escaped this afternoon. If it weren't for Ron's two older brothers and little sister, they might not have escaped at all. He hoped that Hagrid and the special contingent of warlocks brought to the school from all over Britain had thoroughly dispatched those vicious thugs who weren't part of the group on their tail right now. Harry couldn't help but smile when recalling the sight of their big friend standing alongside those battle hardened wizards at the front of the castle as the six of them were fleeing the grounds. He had never seen Hagrid so furious and determined before in his life - standing there with his little pink umbrella in one hand and a huge gnarled club in the other. He almost felt a swell of pity for those Death Eaters who ventured close to the castle. Almost.
Anyway, back before that. They had spent half the week at the school, before the attack, taking a much needed break and talking over ideas for the final move against Voldemort. Professor McGonagall had been very kind and hospitable, almost motherly to the three of them. Back further still. The final horcrux destroyed after a search joined by the Order that had actually been quicker than he thought it would be, thanks to the information Dumbledore had left. Wait, that's it! They had returned to Hogwarts a week ago. He remembered clearly now. He and Ron wanted to see Hermione safely into the school before the two of them left for Hogsmeade to gather some needed supplies. The whole situation seemed really strange to Harry at the time, but even more bizarre now.
An envelope left by Dumbledore in Hermione's parent's hands? What seemed even stranger was when he left it with them. He, Ron and Hermione were shocked to learn that he had visited her parents during his brief absence from Hogwarts in their first year! Professor Quirrell had supposedly tricked Dumbledore into leaving the school so he could get the philosopher's stone and weaken Harry if possible. But to everyone's surprise, as Professor McGonagall first told them a few days ago, Dumbledore saw through the ruse and instead of going to the Ministry of Magic took the opportunity to visit the Grangers. He left the strange package with her parents and made them promise not to give it to her until a certain time. That time was a week and a half ago. At that time all three of them were stumped on where to find the last remaining horcrux, and they decided to stop at her parent's house almost as an afterthought, to take a much needed break in their search.
What was it that the note said again?
Dear Miss Granger,
Inside this envelope you will find my key.
The fact that you are reading this note means that now is the right time.
Take the key to Professor McGonagall and she will show you what to do.
It is there that you will find the answer you seek.
Yours Kindly,
Albus Dumbledore
He had racked his brain since then, trying to figure out how Dumbledore seemed to know six years ago what the three of them would be doing right now. And why Hermione's parents? Why Hermione? She was just a first year then. How did Dumbledore know her or anything about her among the hundreds of other students at Hogwarts? His respect for Dumbledore jumped tremendously as he knocked around all the possible connections and scenarios that logically followed from what seemed to be an impeccable foresight. He sighed at the thought that Dumbledore was now gone. He would have loved to ask him about all this.
He then remembered what Hermione had told them about her visit with McGonagall after he and Ron went off to Hogsmeade. Her surprise at seeing McGonagall waiting for her at the top of the stair before the entrance to the Great Hall. McGonagall's statement to her before she could even open her mouth - "I trust you have the key?"
Harry leaned back again, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on every detail he could grasp from his memory. He thought about Hermione's description of the hidden vault that McGonagall took her to, deep within the bowels of the castle. It was an enormous vault that, up until that time, only the Professor and Dumbledore knew about. He remembered her description of the hundreds of years of Hogwarts history in statues, magical artifacts, paintings, old parchments and even a 400 year old Quidditch uniform, amazingly well preserved. Dumbledore's key went to a special box in which he had placed an old sheet of parchment, torn at the edges, but with markings, notes and a name near the top - T. Riddle. This note, apparently written by Voldemort/Riddle sometime prior to his exit from Hogwarts, had been in Dumbledore's possession and in that vault for all these years! How in bloody hell did he know?
But that wasn't the pressing issue right now. He remembered when he and Ron returned to Hogwarts, they found Hermione in the library, looking up information about what Tom had written in the note. That afternoon was when he first began to notice her strange behavior. It was hard not too, after that first incident. As he and Ron approached Hermione, Ron's smart-alec comment about "being shocked to find Hermione in the library of all places", had apparently hit the wrong nerve in her. Harry laughed a little to himself in remembering how thoroughly she trounced Ron over his stupid comment. In all the time he had known the both of them, he had never seen her get so angry and tort back to Ron in such a way that silenced him completely. In fact, as he thought about it, they hadn't been speaking to each other much at all since then. But that was merely the beginning.
Since then, her withdrawal from Harry and her sulkiness became more and more apparent. This wasn't simply some mood swing. It was shocking to him to see how she dampened the mood of all three of them. That's when it began to really concern him. But what was the cause? What had happened to Hermione in those few hours between them dropping her off at the castle and their return? Was it something the Professor said to her? The information in Tom Riddle's note was exactly what they were looking for and the location of the final horcrux was revealed, just as Dumbledore had said in Hermione's note. He had ruled out the possibility that Voldemort had somehow possessed her through the parchment, like Ginny had been through that diary in their second year. They had burned the parchment after the horcrux was destroyed, and yet Hermione's strange behavior didn't go away. But maybe there was something more to the note that Hermione wasn't telling them. Or maybe…maybe she had seen something in that vault that had affected her badly. But what? It just wasn't like Hermione to allow herself be bothered or frightened so easily, or if she was, it never lasted this long. If it was something she saw, it must have been really bad.
Harry looked over at her once again.
He had to know. Now.
He slowly got up and started to walk over to her…