A/N - this is a long chapter, sorry about that. It just kept growing and what I was planning to write will now be in chapter 19. I hope this chapter isn't too confusing - let me know if it is. Thanks again for all your lovely reviews, glad you're enjoying it.
Chapter 18 - A Harry Full of Angst
Harry woke to find himself changed into his pyjamas and lying in his usual bed in Hogwarts hospital ward. Sun was shinning brightly through the windows so he guessed it was late afternoon, but why he was there - he had no idea. Stretching with a contentment he hadn't felt for a while, a small smile touched his face; he felt good, rested.
As he reached over to get his glasses, he felt an ache in his chest that started to throb with the movement. Realising that this was probably the reason he was back in hospital he sat up and started to undo the buttons of his top so he could see what was causing him so much pain. On the left side of his chest was a large, purpley-green bruise that started at his shoulder and ended just below his nipple. How it got there, he wasn't really sure and was looking at the injury intently when the school's matron bustled over to him.
"I assure you it's all there Mr Potter," she said as she fluffed up his pillows before running her wand diagnostically over him, "how are you feeling?"
"Sore but other than that, remarkably rested," Harry replied, doing up his buttons once more, "in fact, I feel good enough to get back to…"
"You're not going anywhere young man," Madam Pomfrey commanded in no uncertain terms, "you will be staying here until I feel you are fit enough to leave. You have been asleep for three days so it is no surprise you feel rested. However, your heart has been through a traumatic experience and it will take a bit longer before you are capable to do anything more than just sit upright."
"What exactly happened?" Harry asked, leaning back into his pillows, digesting the knowledge he had been asleep for three days.
"You don't remember?" the nurse questioned with a worried frown, her hand touching his forehead gently as if testing for a temperature.
"No," he replied with a small frown of his own. He has been asleep for three days and has a bludger sized bruise on his chest that hurts quite considerably - what was he doing prior to waking up here? He honestly couldn't remember, but his mood was so good, he didn't particularly care either.
"Well, I'll let the headmistress know," Madam Pomfrey clucked, handing Harry a potion, "this should help ease the pain in your chest," she explained.
Harry swallowed the liquid with little argument and immediately felt a numbness replace the throbbing. Sighing, he closed his eyes and thought, his smile never leaving his face. He had been in this ward so many times it was as familiar to him as his dorm. He opened his eyes.
"I've been here a lot, haven't I?" he suddenly asked the nurse who had been walking away, making her turn around and look at him.
"Yes, I must admit you have," she replied with a rare grin, "I am contemplating placing a plaque on the wall over this bed stating that fact. After all my years serving this school, you have definitely been one of my more frequent patients."
"Thank you," he blurted out, "thank you for taking such good care of me over the years. I don't think I've ever really appreciated it enough."
"You're more than welcome," the old matron walked back to the bed and patted Harry warmly on the shoulder, "you're a fine young man."
"Though I just had a thought," he chuckled slightly, "should I be embarrassed that I'm now seventeen and you're still changing me into my pyjamas?" A slight blush touched her face before she smoothed out his sheets and looked at him in the eye.
"It's my job, one that I have been doing for many years," she informed him briskly, though a smile was playing on her lips, "and you have nothing to be embarrassed about Mr Potter." With that she turned on her heel and left him grinning.
Closing his eyes once more, Harry sat enjoying the sun that was hitting his face. He knew he should be worrying about something - he always had things to worry about - but at the minute he was in peace and it felt brilliant. He absently wondered where Hermione and Ron were, opening his eyes in surprise when at the exactly same time he heard Hermione's voice.
"Harry!" she exclaimed excitedly as she and Ron entered the room, walking quickly over to his bed, "you're finally awake!"
"Yeah," Harry smiled, his eyes never leaving Hermione, who had clasped his hand between both of hers, "just woke up now."
"How're feeling mate?" Ron asked, grinning ear from ear.
"Actually, brilliant," Harry answered, still staring at Hermione, thinking how he really wanted to kiss her right about now, "Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion to stop the pain from the bruise on my chest, but other than that, I'm fine."
"Well, you have been asleep for three days," Ron continued, "a dreamless sleep at that, which is quite a surprise, considering."
"Not really," Harry carried on, his thumb rubbing the top of Hermione's hand gently, enjoying the touch of her, "I have no idea why I'm here or what happened…"
"You don't remember anything?" Hermione finally spoke, worry tainting her voice.
"Nope, not a thing," Harry replied, slightly concerned at the looks shared between Hermione and Ron but not enough to dampen his mood, "I don't even remember Madam Pomfrey changing me into my pyjamas - again. I asked her whether I should be embarrassed now, I mean, the woman's probably seen me naked! Still, she said I had nothing to be embarrassed about…"
"She what!" Ron exclaimed, all seriousness disappearing.
"She said I had nothing to be embarrassed about," Harry repeated, enjoying the blush on Hermione's face and the look of shock on Ron's, "that's a good thing, right?"
"I dunno," Ron answered mischievously, "is it Hermione?"
"Why are you asking me, I haven't seen Harry naked…"
"Yet."
"Ron Weasley!" Hermione sputtered, her face now beetroot red, "Harry and my relationship…I mean to say, I'm not that type…Harry and I have never…really!"
"I never thought I'd make Hermione lost for words," Ron chuckled, "besides, I'm not blind. The way you two have been looking at each other since we got here has been quite disgusting, actually. I was about to suggest I give you some time together but the last time I did that, you were both practically undressed when I came back…"
"Really?" Harry asked, sad that he didn't remember the incident in question.
"We most definitely were not!" Hermione protested.
"…so I thought I better not since Remus and Professor McGonagall are on their way and well, that would just be humiliating. Head Boy and Head Girl, caught by the headmistress on a hospital bed…"
"Ronald!" Hermione fumed, but Harry just laughed.
"Come on Hermione," Ron continued to tease, "don't deny that the first thing you wanted to do when we came here was to snog Harry senseless, bugger the fact that I was standing right here…"
"Yes, but…"
"But nothing," Ron grinned, "go on then. Do it. Before anyone else arrives. I'll keep watch because quite frankly, watching you two together is just too scarring."
Hermione looked down at Harry, who looked back at her with what he hoped was a message that said - please, please kiss me! She seemed to have heard his silent plea, and with a small smile she gently ran her finger down the side of his face, make every nerve ending in his body stand on end before she bent down and put her lips on his own.
His hands went immediately to her face, one on each side, holding her softly so she wouldn't pull away until he was ready. The kiss got deeper and he forgot totally that Ron was still there, steadily looking away in the other direction. Her hands were now threaded through his hair while his had made their way down her back, drawing her in closer to him. He was in heaven, until…
"Potter! Granger! Stop that this instant!" The terse Scottish brogue of the headmistress was unmistakable and Hermione pulled herself off him with sudden abruptness.
"Remus and McGonagall are here," Ron stage-whispered, grinning maniacally.
"Thanks for that Ron," Harry grinned back, bringing his knees to his chest in an attempt to get more comfortable and allowing Hermione room to sit at the foot of his bed.
"I am aware of this new relationship between you two but I will not have that sort of carry on in my school!" McGonagall continued as she and a smirking Remus made their way to his bedside.
"Sorry Professor," Hermione said automatically, making sure no part of her body touched Harry as she perched on the end of his bed, Harry stayed silent, unable to remove the blissfully happy smile from his face.
"We will discuss this later," McGonagall stated, furiously looking between the two teenagers.
"Welcome back Harry," Remus interrupted seriously though the corners of his mouth still twitched as he tried to hide his smile, "Poppy has told us you can't remember anything - can you tell me what was the last thing you can recall?"
Harry thought hard, trying to think of his last memory before waking up in the infirmary. After a few moments of sifting through his thoughts, he realised his answer.
"Um, I think it was breakfast on Good Friday," he told the group, "hot cross buns with melted butter. Then here."
"That's practically twenty four hours missing," Ron thought aloud.
"Twenty four hours?" Harry repeated, now beginning to worry, "what did I do that makes me want to forget twenty four hours?"
"You got rid of the Horcruxes Harry," Hermione replied with concern.
Harry stared at her in amazement as her words penetrated before a multitude of images began assaulting his brain - Tom Riddle's hand piercing his chest, squeezing his heart until it nearly stopped; Voldemort making him see horrific, disgusting things that he now saw again over and over; the taunts that had him believing that they should join together to stop all the deaths. And Harry nearly accepting the offer.
Without warning, he leant over the edge of his bed and vomited. Immediately Hermione was at his side, gently holding his face in her hands as she wiped it with a cloth she had quickly conjured up. But he couldn't look at her - couldn't look at anyone - as the horror of what had taken place continued to repeat in his brain.
He had nearly given in, nearly merged with the monster that had ruined his life in so many ways. He had nearly turned against all of those that were fighting so hard to beat Lord Voldemort, he had nearly become Lord Voldemort. Harry was sick once more, barely missing Hermione.
"Harry?" she questioned, her voice full of worry - he just wiped his mouth on his sleeve, turning away from her. How could he let her touch him? He was foul, weak…evil. As he was trying to work out what he should do, how to get away from everyone before he caused anymore harm, his face was once more held between Hermione's hands, but the touch was no longer gentle. She made him look at her, her eyes full of fire.
"Harry Potter, you look at me!" she growled, "don't you dare feel anything but pride about what happened in that classroom!"
"I nearly agreed…"
"But you didn't!" she countered, "you didn't agree! Voldemort hit you with everything he had and you still got rid of him! Don't you see, you were too strong, your heart too pure, to give in! You won Harry!"
"I shouldn't even have considered it," Harry yelled at her, a pain starting to form in his chest, "it shouldn't have crossed my mind! That…thing killed my parents! Killed your parents! I actually contemplated joining with him - I don't deserve…"
"You only thought about it after he promised to keep me safe, to keep us safe!" she yelled back, her hands no longer on his face as she stood over him, "even then, even when he showed you all those foul images of what would happen if you didn't join with him, you turned away! Why can't you see what you did was amazing? Why do you always think you're…"
"Pathetic?" Harry finished for her, "because I am! I've had a lifetime of people telling me how worthless and stupid I am - this just confirms it! I can't win! I can't even keep him out of my head when he's only a fraction of a soul!"
"Harry, Hermione, stop," Remus interjected before Hermione could say anything more and with a weary sigh, Harry fell back into his pillows. His hand went to his chest to try and stop the throbbing that had begun - all of a sudden he wasn't feeling so good. Along with the aftertaste of vomit in his mouth, he could feel beads of sweat rolling down his temples and his top now sticking to his back.
"Oh God," Hermione gasped, aware of his deteriorating state, "oh Harry, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to…"
"Don't worry about it," he mumbled, ignoring her as she wiped his brow once more.
"I wasn't even thinking," she continued slightly panicked, "I'm so sorr…"
"Don't worry about it," Harry snapped, pushing her hand away, "I'm fine."
Hermione stood up, her hurt mirrored in her face. Harry saw it then turned away; he deserved no less.
"Ron, please go get Madam Pomfrey," Remus instructed, "Hermione, I think it best that you stand with Professor McGonagall for the moment. Harry - look at me."
With increasing discomfort, Harry turned and looked at his old teacher whose face was lined with worry. Hermione was standing a little distance away with McGonagall, her eyes filled with tears.
"What has been going on here?" the matron asked as she stormed over to Harry's bed, seeing Hermione's discarded cloth and Harry's pale and sweaty face, "this boy is recovering from near heart failure, are you trying to entice him to have another?"
"There is more at stake here Poppy," McGonagall informed her nurse, "we feel that Mr Potter is suffering from residual effects of the Horcrux destruction."
"That is not going to matter if he dies from a heart attack," Madam Pomfrey shot back, her wand going over Harry's body once more.
"I had a heart attack?" Harry managed to ask, trying to ignore the fussing matron, "and what residual effects? What's wrong with me?"
"Let's let Poppy get you comfortable, and then we'll explain," Remus soothed, "you're going to be fine."
"I don't feel fine," Harry stated harshly.
"Drink this and you'll feel better," Madam Pomfrey told him as she handed him another glass of potion. Harry drunk the bitter liquid and waited for it to take effect - which it did almost instantly. Once again the throbbing in his chest ceased and he felt reasonably normal again. He let himself be cleaned up by the nurse before looking up at Remus with a determined frown.
"What's wrong with me?" he asked again then waited for an answer.
"Your exchange with Hermione has confirmed something that Minerva and I were concerned about," Remus started, stepping closer to Harry's bedside, "and it is with regards to your state of mind…"
"I've gone crazy?" Harry exclaimed, suddenly scared.
"No Harry, you haven't gone crazy," Remus smiled wryly, "a Horcrux is the darkest of magic made from the darkest of acts - murder of another human being. We knew this but what we didn't know was that evil remained in the vessel the Horcrux was stored in. When you released each Horcrux, you released some of the evil with it which in turn, effected how you thought."
"Each time, the room got colder…" Harry thought out loud.
"And when we entered the room once you had completed your task, the darkness could be felt," Remus confirmed, "Harry, it wasn't your fault that the thought of joining Voldemort crossed your mind. The fact that you fought off such hatred for the length of time you did was incredible."
"We will no longer be able to use that room as a classroom," McGonagall added, "the residual effects can still be felt."
"How…how did you know that's what happened?" Harry asked, looking between Remus and the headmistress, "I mean, it was all in my mind, how did you know?"
"Because Hermione told us," Ron said, speaking for the first time. Harry looked at his friend, and then at Hermione.
"You can read my mind?" he questioned angrily.
"I could…then," she replied, her chin jutting out defiantly as if determined to not let Harry's words hurt her, "it was like I could see everything you were seeing. It was horrible."
"I heard your voice…" Harry said, remembering, his anger ebbing away as quickly as it had surfaced, "you were telling me to hold on and fight. To stay with you." He looked back at her as her tears finally overflowed and ran down her cheeks.
"You were in so much pain Harry," she sobbed, "I couldn't stand it. And then we came in here and you were…happy…"
"I couldn't remember," Harry kept on, once more thinking out loud, "I couldn't remember anything that happened and as soon as I did…"
"You became despondent and depressed," Remus finished for him, "which is something we need to fix."
"Pretty bloody quickly," Ron muttered, "these intense mood swings will do my head in."
"Can they be fixed?" Harry asked anxiously, "these mood swings, can they be fixed?"
Remus and McGonagall shared a look before looking back at Harry.
"We don't know for sure Harry," Remus replied, "as you know, there isn't much information on Horcruxes and nothing was mentioned in the one book we have."
"We'll talk to Albus about this new development," McGonagall added, "and see if he has any suggestions."
"So what do we do now?" Hermione asked, coming back over to Harry's side.
"What we are going to do now is let Mr Potter get some sleep," Madam Pomfrey announced returning to her patients bed, "we need to let his damaged heart regain its strength."
"Right," Remus agreed, putting his hand comfortably on Harry's shoulder, "we'll go and talk to Albus and let you get some rest. Someone will be here with you at all times until we can work out a permanent way to remove the…angst."
"Someone will be here to make sure I don't do something stupid you mean," Harry growled, edging his way back down into his bed after drinking what he guessed was Dreamless Sleep potion.
"Pretty much Harry," Remus chuckled - Harry just glared back. Soon the Dreamless Sleep potion began to take effect and Harry felt his eyes closing, his last conscious thought being just how much he hated himself and all the trouble he had put everyone through.
But dreamless sleep didn't come for Harry, or if it did - it didn't last long. Images of him turning into Voldemort, him being the one torturing and then killing his friends, him killing Hermione, began haunting him - the moment of Hermione's death shocking him awake to find the real Hermione standing over him, trying to calm him down. He drew her into a bone crushing hug, desperate to make sure she was real and she was alive. It was now late afternoon with dusk touching the horizon and the idea of sleep was far, far away from Harry's mind.
But his exhausted heart couldn't allow what his brain screamed out for and within a few more hours, Harry's eyes closed once more. This time he woke screaming into darkness, a disturbed Madam Pomfrey coming to him with a calming potion and some soothing words but this time Harry forced himself to stay awake until the sun reappeared through the windows.
Despite the broken sleep, Harry's heart slowly regained its strength and a week after he was admitted, he was released. The school was filling up once more as the holidays had ended but Harry spent his time in his room or the Common area, not willing to mix with others. His depression hung over him like a dark cloud keeping everyone besides Hermione, Ron or Luna far away from him while Ron made it his personal mission to make sure Draco Malfoy didn't as much glance in Harry's direction.
It was later in the week when he was asked to visit the headmistress's office and leaving a frowning Hermione and Ron behind, he made his way down the familiar route. When he stepped into the office, he thought there had been some kind of mistake as the room was empty. Turning to go, he heard that infuriatingly calm voice that he knew so well.
"Thank you for coming Harry."
Harry turned back and saw the portrait of Professor Dumbledore looking at him from his spot behind his old desk. Harry's frown deepened.
"What do you want?" he asked harshly.
"Minerva has told me of your situation," the picture said, "and I believe I know what can cure you."
"Why couldn't she tell me?"
"She?" Dumbledore questioned, his voice hard.
"McGonagall," Harry confirmed, "why couldn't she or Remus tell me of the cure? Why did I have to come and see you?"
"I think you owe Professor McGonagall a bit more respect than that Harry," the portrait said, "and I was unaware that talking to me is such a hardship."
Harry sighed and slumped down into one of the chairs facing the headmistress's desk.
"Sorry," he grumbled, purposely not looking at the image on the wall.
"Thank you," the old headmaster replied, once more sounding his jovial self, "and there is a reason why I wanted to pass the information onto you and not through others and that is because I feel this needs to stay between us…"
"More secrets," Harry interrupted.
"Yes, unfortunately more secrets." Dumbledore confirmed somewhat sadly.
"So, what is it you want me to do?" Harry asked sullenly.
"Go into the locked room at the Department of Mysteries."
Harry looked at the portrait abruptly.
"The locked room?" he repeated, "the love room?"
"It is the key…"
"You expect me to go back to the place Sirius was killed?"
"Harry, I know it will be difficult…" Dumbledore was interrupted by a soft tap on the door. Surprised, Harry turned around in his seat to see who was there and was even more surprised when he saw it was Hermione.
"Hi Harry," she said to him before looking at the picture, "hello Professor Dumbledore."
"Hermione, thank you for coming," Dumbledore beamed, "right on time. Please, take a seat."
Harry watched as she made her way into the room, avoiding his eyes, and sat down in the other chair facing the desk. He looked at her profile and wondered what she was doing there and if it was this great secret, whatever Dumbledore had planned, why was Hermione part of it all.
"Does Harry know about the…" Hermione began before Harry cut in severely.
"You've been talking about me?" he asked angrily. She turned to him, her eyes steely.
"Of course we've been talking about you," she informed him calmly, "the destruction of the Horcruxes has changed you into someone quite unpleasant and I would really like to get the Harry I know and love back," she turned back to the portrait, "perhaps you should fill him in professor."
Harry just kept staring at her, his mouth agape as he tried to process a couple of things; she and Professor Dumbledore (plus who knows else) have been talking about him and she just said that she loved him in front of Professor Dumbledore. He wasn't sure what annoyed him the most.
"I was just about to when you arrived," Dumbledore informed Hermione happily making Harry drag his eyes away from his girlfriend and onto the portrait on the wall, "ah, good. Glad to have your attention back."
"You want me to go back to the Department of Mysteries," Harry spat.
"Yes I do," Dumbledore continued, "I understand your reluctance but we feel this is the best, and perhaps even only, way…"
"'We', being you and Hermione," Harry grumbled.
"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed, "after I was told what had happened during the Horcrux destruction I felt this was something that should be dealt by Hermione and Hermione alone."
"Why?"
"Because I love you Harry," Hermione answered, "even though I don't like you particularly at the moment."
"And this is all about love," Harry grouched, slumping further down in his chair, feeling nothing but embarrassment about her comment.
"Yes Harry, this is all about love," Dumbledore chuckled, "it has saved you twice already during this particular challenge and I believe it will save you once more."
"It hasn't saved me…"
"It was Hermione that prevented Tom from stopping your heart from beating and it was Hermione that brought you back before Voldemort's hate consumed you," the portrait patiently explained, "the connection that was formed for the hour you were in that room is unusual Harry."
Harry glanced over at Hermione who was staring steadfast at Dumbledore. Part of him knew the professor was right, that she had already saved him (if he was really honest, she had saved him many, many times) but a bigger part kept telling him that Hermione didn't really love him - how could she? Scowling once more, he turned back to the picture on the wall.
"So how are we going to get back into the Department of Mysteries," he asked, "break in at night? I doubt whether a simple Alohomora will open that stupid door…"
"You are quite right," Dumbledore replied, "it takes more than simple spells to enter that particular room so we thought we would ask…"
"Ask?" Harry repeated, dumbfounded, "you mean, just go up to the security desk and ask to see the most protected room at the Ministry?"
"No," Hermione answered, "we thought we'd ask Mr Scrimgeour…"
"The Minister of Magic?" Harry exclaimed, "the git who hates me? Yeah, that will really work."
"We can but try," the portrait admitted, "and if we are unsuccessful, then perhaps a more stealth response will be required."
"Right, because us asking to visit the room isn't going to make the room more guarded or anything, is it," Harry muttered sarcastically.
"The room doesn't require guards," Dumbledore explained, ignoring Harry's tone, "it has its own protections…"
"So how are we supposed to get through those?" Harry interrupted, annoyed, "or do you know what they are?"
"We have an idea," Hermione answered, her voice hard but quiet, "and it won't be us entering the room Harry, it will be only you."
"You're not coming?" he asked, looking at her in shock and for the first time since she entered the office, she caught his eye.
"I'll be with you at the Ministry but if we get into the Department of Mysteries, you will be going on alone," she informed him.
"So you're escorting me, making sure I do this," he shot back at her, his anger rising once more.
"Yes," Hermione replied shortly and turned back to the professor, "when do you think we should go, Professor?"
"Nothing like the present," Dumbledore grinned, "I will let Minerva know you are both safe and where you are, keeping an eye on you myself from the portrait they have placed of me at the Ministry. I think the quicker we do this, the better for all."
"I agree," Hermione said, standing, "because if he stays like this for much longer, I swear, I'm going to start hexing him into next week."
Harry went to start to argue but instead clamped his mouth shut, thinking - why bother? They had his life planned anyway, all he had to do was turn up. He stood as well, stuck his hands deep in his pockets and sullenly followed Hermione to the fireplace.
"Remember what we spoke about Hermione," Dumbledore said cryptically though Hermione nodded with acknowledgement, "Rufus is a wiry customer but there are other ways to get what we need than the obvious."
"I understand," she replied, quickly glancing at Harry before looking back at the portrait, "what will we do if…"
"We will get him back Hermione," Dumbledore interrupted softly, giving Hermione a reassuring smile. Harry's scowl deepened.
"I am standing right here, you know," he growled, "don't talk about me like I'm invisible."
"Sorry Harry," Hermione replied, not sounding sorry at all, "come on, lets go." Grabbing his hand she pulled him into the fireplace, the two of them cramped together until she took a large handful of Floo powder, activated it and said very clearly, "Ministry of Magic," and in a swirl of green they were gone.
Harry was still holding her hand when they stepped out into the busy Ministry Atrium. Hermione walked purposefully to the reception desk not far from the Floo network, dragging a silent Harry with her. He looked at the fountain that still sat in the middle of the floor, its statues repaired since the incident that had destroyed it a few years prior. Harry's frown deepened even more.
"Hello," he heard Hermione say brightly, drawing his attention to the young blond witch manning the reception desk, her face stuck in an unnatural looking smile, "we would like to see Minister Scrimgeour please," Hermione asked pleasantly.
"I will just check his availability," the witch answered robotically, "who may I say is calling?"
"Harry Potter," Hermione replied confidently. The blond looked up at Harry who scowled back, making her falter slightly but she didn't stop staring. The other witches and wizards around the desk were also gapping at Harry with un-abandoned awe making him feel like an animal at a zoo.
"What are you all looking at?" he growled as he caught all the onlooker's eyes before retuning his gaze onto the receptionist, "is Scrimgeour free or not?"
She snapped into action, her fake smile gone and after a hurried conversation into a strange device on her desk, she looked back up at him before quickly looking at Hermione.
"Minister Scrimgeour's assistant is on his way," the receptionist informed them, "please, take a seat."
Harry let himself be led to the row of seats lined against the wall and slumped down into one, glowering at anyone who had the misfortune to glance in his direction. Hermione didn't say anything and just sat still next to him, her hands folded neatly in her lap. He ignored her. In fact, he tried to ignore everything but it was getting harder the longer they sat there. His eyes kept returning to the fountain and the memory of what happened there - Voldemort possessing him moments after Sirius had been lost for ever.
His thoughts were interrupted as he noticed Hermione stand. Guessing their escort was here, Harry also stood in time to see Percy Weasley stop in front of them, his chin jutting out defiantly as he looked down his nose.
"Harry, Hermione," he said, still sounding as pompous as ever, "this is an unexpected surprise."
"Hello Percy," Hermione replied politely, "we're here to see the Minister."
"So I understand," Percy replied as he began to walk, indicating they should follow, "you are lucky to see him on such short notice. Minister Scrimgeour is a very busy man."
"I can imagine," Hermione said conversationally, "we must remember to thank him." She had taken Harry's hand again as they followed Percy to the elevators (after weighing their wands at the security desk) as if to make sure he didn't make a run for it, but he just slouched on behind her. He hadn't even thought that it would be Percy escorting them to Scrimgeour but now that he thought about it, it made sense. Harry shook his head in disgust.
"You two are looking well," Percy carried on as they waited for the lift, his gaze hesitating on their joined hands momentarily before returning to Hermione's face.
"Are we?" she answered, sounding genuinely surprised, "that's strange, because its been a terrible few months, what with what happened to The Burrow and some other…things."
"The Burrow?" Percy asked, concerned, "what happened at The Burrow?"
"Didn't you hear?" Hermione continued, shocked when Percy shook his head, "it was attacked by Death Eaters. Your brothers and dad managed to get your mum and Fleur out - you know who Fleur is, don't you?"
"Bill's wife," Percy answered, dazed.
"Right," Hermione confirmed, stepping into the lift that had just arrived in front of them, "well, Fleur had gone into labour…"
"Labour?" Percy repeated.
"Why yes, you didn't know you were an uncle?" Hermione answered with a frown, "I would've thought the Minister would've told you all this. I mean, Fred was hurt quite badly and The Burrow was totally destroyed. I know it was kept out of the papers, but I thought surely you would be kept in the loop."
"No," Percy replied slowly, "no, I didn't know any of this. Is everyone alright? Fred? Where are they staying?"
"Everyone is fine," Hermione said with the tiniest of smiles, "and your parents are now in a safe house. Still, you must see your dad around here now and then."
"Yes, yes of course," came the response as the lifts door opened finally on the first level, "but we don't speak. The Minister prefers it if I don't intermingle with those who were close to…"
Harry could tell Percy looked at him as they stepped out of the lift into the plush entrance hall of the Minister of Magic's office.
"Professor Dumbledore, of course," Hermione finished for their escort, "though it must be difficult, they are your family after all."
Percy didn't say anything but Harry could see the conflict of emotions cross the young man's face. He seemed to get himself together before indicating to some oversized chairs and making his way to the large double doors at the end of the room.
"Please, take a seat," Percy instructed them, "I'll see if the Minister is able to see you now."
Harry went to sit down but Hermione remained standing, rim rod straight, concentrating on the doors where Percy had disappeared through. Shrugging his shoulders in a 'whatever' gesture, he pried his hand from her clasp and sat down. As the minutes grew, he was glad he had made the choice to sit, although Hermione hadn't moved an inch as they waited. Fifteen minutes later, Percy came out and held the door open for them.
"The Minister can see you now."
Hermione marched in, her head held high while Harry got up from his seat and followed at a more resentful pace, not wanting to give Scrimgeour the satisfaction of any resemblance to neediness. As he passed Percy, he saw that there was a new hardness in the redhead's eyes, his brow furrowed into a frown.
"Ah, Harry and Miss Granger, I presume," Scrimgeour welcomed from his large seat behind his desk.
"Thank you for seeing us Minister," Hermione replied politely, ignoring the seat that was offered to her. Percy closed the door behind them before making his way to Scrimgeour's side, standing slightly to his right. Harry didn't speak and instead stared at the lion-like head of the Minister.
"How can I help you two young people," Scrimgeour continued, looking more at Harry than Hermione.
"We need access to the locked room in the Department of Mysteries," Hermione said with no preamble causing the false smile on Scrimgeour's face to disappear, "if you allow us, or more importantly, Harry, to enter the locked room, our chances of defeating Lord Voldemort will be greatly enhanced."
"Let me get this straight," the minister said, leaning forward on his desk, "you want access to a room that no-one has access to, not even me…"
"But you are the one that holds the key, Minister," Hermione interrupted, "your lack of access to the room is more about the rooms own safeguards. If Harry is not meant to enter the room, then those same safeguards will apply." Scrimgeour leaned back in his chair and looked at Hermione shrewdly.
"Percy, could you leave us for a moment," he said after a few moments. Percy looked as if he was going to say something, but decided not to and instead did as he was told and exited the room.
"Is there a problem, Minister?" Hermione asked sweetly.
"Has Mr Potter lost his voice?" Scrimgeour replied with a sneer, "or are you just the overbearing, domineering type that won't let him get a word in edgeways?"
"If I speak, I know I'll say something that I'll regret," Harry spoke up before Hermione could answer, "like the next time you're rude to Hermione like that, I'll hex you."
"This room has wards that protect me…"
"You have to leave this room eventually."
"Is that a threat Harry?" Harry answered the minister's question with a shrug. The two stared at each other angrily.
"Minister Scrimgeour," Hermione interrupted - the Minister reluctantly moved his gaze from Harry to her, "we would like you to hand us the key. We will return it as soon as we have finished."
"Miss Granger," Scrimgeour began as if he was talking to a child, "I will not give you the key to the room that contains the greatest power in the wizarding world. You are a teenager who is in cahoots with a young man that is mentally imbalanced and has openly threatened the Minister of Magic. I suggest that you leave immediately."
"Denying our request is detrimental to the war against Lord Voldemort," Hermione continued, sounding annoyed for the first time.
"The war against You-Know-Who is none of your concern," Scrimgeour stated, "Percy will escort you back to the Floo network."
Immediately the doors opened and Percy walked towards them, gesturing to them that they were to leave. Harry did what he was told, smug in the knowledge that he was right - asking for the key had been a waste of time. Hermione was soon at his side, fuming while Percy was silently walking at his other side. It wasn't until they were in the lift and the doors sealed shut that Percy spoke.
"The Minister isn't the only one with access to the key," he said softly, looking directly in front of him.
"What?" Hermione asked, seemingly unsure of what Percy said.
"The Minister isn't the only one with access to the key," he repeated. Harry looked at their escort with shock, as did Hermione but Percy said no more as the elevator began to fill with other witches and wizards.
When it paused at the Atrium's level, the elevator emptied. Harry went to leave as well, but a firm hand gripped his arm and stopped him.
"This isn't our floor," Percy said softly and shut the doors before anyone could enter. He then pushed the number nine and the lift sprang into life once more.
"Department of Mysteries," the lift's voice announced and once again Harry was standing looking at the black door at the end of the corridor.
A flood of memories struck his brain, none of them good, but none the less he followed Percy through the door and onto the dais with the revolving doors. Drawing his wand, Percy quickly marked the door they had just come through with a blazing 'E', reminiscent of Hermione's crosses the first time they had been here.
The room began to spin, Percy trying a door each time it stopped, marking it with an 'X' until the fourth door he tried was locked. Instead of a cross, Percy placed a big tick on the it before the room began spinning once more. He turned to Harry.
"If you are meant to go into this room, the key will work," he explained, handing Harry a very old innate key, "if the room doesn't want you, there is nothing we can do. Even the Unspeakables are only allowed in there when the room lets them. There is no spells to counteract the protection wards."
Harry nodded, waited for the doors to halt and when they did, made his way to the door with the tick and inserted the key. Though both key and lock were ancient, the key turned easily, causing Percy to let out a shocked gasp. Harry turned back to him in surprise.
"We won't be able to wait, Harry," Percy said quickly, "we'll make it look like you've left so when you've finished, just leave the key here on the floor…"
"So you can put it back," Harry finished, with a nod, vaguely noticing the doors hadn't spun since the key went in the lock.
"I doubt whether I will still be an employee of the Ministry by then," Percy replied, a new hardness in his voice.
"Why are you doing this?" Harry continued, suddenly aware that Percy had put everything that was important to him on the line.
"Because they lied to me," Percy answered bitterly, "I could've lost my entire family and they would've hidden that from me. I know mum and dad's choices have put them in danger and with Professor Dumbledore gone, that danger increased so in a way, I expected an attack on The Burrow. But I didn't know I was an uncle. That's one lie too many."
Harry nodded briefly before finally looking at Hermione, who had been quiet since their arrival on level nine. She looked back at him, her face pale and fear clouding her eyes.
"Be careful Harry," she said softly.
"I'm just doing what I have to do, like always," Harry shot back, "it's no big deal."
She didn't say anything and instead grabbed his head in her hands so she could pull him the few spaces closer to her, then kissed him. Hard. At first he was shocked, maybe even a bit repulsed but then natural instincts took over and he returned the kiss hungrily, roughly, all thought leaving his head. When she pulled away from him, he glared at her, annoyed that she had started something she wasn't prepared to finish.
"I'll…I'll see you back at school," Hermione breathed before hastily making her way to the door with the glowing 'E' on it and walking out. Harry watched her before glancing at the momentarily forgotten Percy.
"Good luck," was all he said as he too left, and with a shrug of his shoulders Harry turned and faced the door that still had the key sitting in the lock. Without a second thought, he opened the door and entered the room.