Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter Five

Unexpected

You know you're the best thing ever

To come out of this place,

Hey I want you to know,

`Cause I wanna know

Draco's dramatic proclamation was met with seven pairs of blank eyes. "Any of you can blink whenever you feel like it," he encouraged.

Harry's brow furrowed. "I thought you said you were here to help."

"What do I look like, Potter?" Malfoy scoffed, "You? Does that sound like something I would burst in and say? And besides, who says that wasn't helpful?"

"I do," Harry snapped, folding his arms. "`Efflectum Memoria destroys the mind'? Don't you think we've determined that much already?"

Draco rolled his silver eyes. "You've got no sense of timing, Potter. None whatsoever."

"Why don't you skip the dramatics and just tell us what you know?" Ginny suggested, rubbing her hands over her face.

"Fine, fine. Efflectum Memoria is, as I've said, ancient blood magic. There are all sorts of requirements the victim has to meet-a connection between the caster and castee, a powerful force for good, fairly innocent…yada-yada-ya." He noticed the looks he was receiving from his audience and continued quickly. "Anyway, here's how it works: starting from the outermost part of the brain and working its way down, the curse-more or less-obliterates the memory bit by bit."

"What do you mean more or less?" Hermione, who had been silent since his arrival, asked suddenly, her voice hollow and her face void of emotion.

"It's different with everyone, I'd expect," Draco shrugged. "No guarantee it's going to destroy all your memories…it might just warp them somehow. Point is: it's Dark. That's Dark with a capital D, mind you." Harry rolled his eyes. "I realize you think I'm being repetitive, Potter, but let me make myself clear. In order to be able to perform this curse, you've got have the forces of Darkness themselves bestowed upon you."

"Aren't you recovering from a little bout of that yourself, Malfoy?" Ron asked coolly, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh Weasel you great, blundering, moron. Any idiot can throw on some leather trousers, sum up all his anger and nasty feelings, wave a wand maliciously and call himself a Dark Wizard."

"Exhibit A," Fred whispered to his twin, motioning to Malfoy.

Draco ignored him. "This kind of evil is…advanced."

"Advanced Evil? Did they offer that at Death Eater School?" George muttered back.

"Oh will you all just stop bickering?" Hermione exclaimed suddenly. "I'd like to get a handle on this curse before it's too late if you don't mind."

"Sorry to upset you, Granger." Draco apologized emotionlessly. "Advanced evil-not many people can do it-who was it who cursed you?"

"Dolohov," Hermione said quietly, twisting a curl around her finger.

Draco seemed surprised, "That certainly doesn't fit his description," he muttered, almost to himself. "Well, Sev wanted me to drop this stuff off for you and take back what you're not going to need." With a sweep of his Malfoy's wand, the room-which had been cluttered with heavy tomes, quills, and parchment-was spotless. He took a few more steps in and dropped two large books and one roll of parchment on the coffee table. "That's all there is-best of luck." With a POP he'd Disapparated into thin air.

"I just can't take him as…y'know…good," Fred commented after a moment.

"I don't care what he is, as long as he's helpful," Hermione reached for one of the books. She stopped in mid-reach and clapped her hands to her temples. "Bloody headaches…"

"You should take another potion," Ron suggested.

"I don't want to…they make me drowsy," she insisted stubbornly.

Lupin and Harry exchanged a quick glance. "I'm not so sure sleep wouldn't do you some good right now," Lupin began kindly. "Actually, I think we all could use a break. I'll start going over this," he motioned to the small pile Snape had sent, "Ginny, why don't you make some lunch?"

Without another word, Hermione got to her feet and stormed out of the room, the door to her bedroom slamming hard enough to shake the walls. Ron looked over at his best friend, "I'll flip you for it-loser goes in and deals with that."

Harry found her pacing around her room, arms crossed angrily, muttering under her breath. "Hermione?" he asked tentatively.

She looked up, her agitated face softening only a little. "Come to order me about some more?"

Harry sighed, "I'm not trying order you about-I'm trying…I'm trying to…to take care of you."

"And why is that?"

"Because you need taken care of!" He exclaimed as if it were obvious. Seconds after the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never spoken.

Hermione stopped pacing and dropped her arms. "Do you know how patronizing that sounds?" she asked heatedly, making Harry wish he'd said anything else. "I'm not a five year old with a `boo-boo', Harry. I'm a grown woman-I can take care of myself."

"What if you can't?" He asked quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"Not now, I mean…now you're fine. But…what if…what if you just can't eventually? Then what?"

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest again. "I wish you'd just learn to say what it is you want to say, Harry. This reading between the lines of your stuttering is getting a little old." A strange look came over her face, "Harry, I'm sorry," she softened. "I don't know what's come over me."

"It's…okay, Hermione."

She sat down on the edge of her bed and twisted a curl around her finger. "I guess it's pretty bad, huh?"

He sat down next to her, "I don't know…Malfoy…you know how he gets."

"He certainly has a flair for the dramatics," she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah." Harry reached over and squeezed her hand. "We're all in this together, Hermione, okay?"

"Easy for you to say," she muttered with a sniffle. "You're not the one who's cursed."

I'm not so sure about that, Harry thought to himself. He swallowed hard, "I don't think you should go back to school," he blurted, preparing himself for an explosion.

Hermione didn't say anything at first. She pursed her lips together and twitched her fingers against his. "You don't, do you?" she asked quietly.

"I just don't think it's a good idea, that's all. You need to focus on getting well."

"And trying to continue on with my life, that's obviously something that would keep me from getting well."

"I didn't mean that you shouldn't keep-" he stopped himself. That's exactly what he did mean and saying any different would only make her angrier. "I just…I don't know…I just think any more stress would do more harm than good."

"What else am I supposed to do? Sit around and get sicker? No, thank you." She stood up and away from him. "You don't think that sitting around, waiting for my memory to get weaker and my mind to deteriorate…you don't think that that would cause any stress? That watching all of you scuttle about, waiting on me hand and foot, walking on eggshells…that that won't cause any stress? That even just living in this flat, paying the bills and keeping up with the cleaning and laundry and all of it…that that isn't stressful enough? Even without school, Harry, just being your friend is stressful! I'm never going to get rid of stress, and trying to eliminate it from my life isn't going to miraculously make me well again!" She took a breath to calm herself. When she spoke again, her voice was at a normal level, "If nothing else, I want to take my mind off of what's happening."

Harry didn't know what to say. He pushed his hair around on his head a few times. "Hermione…"

"What?"

"At least think about it, okay?" She shook her head stubbornly. "Please? You don't have to agree to anything right away…I just want you to think about making some changes that will help you in the future."

"I can't."

"Just think about it," he implored, getting to his feet and taking her by the shoulders. "Please?"

When she looked up, her eyes were clouded over with tears. "I just can't, Harry…please don't make me."

"Hermione…"

"If I don't go to school…if I stop learning and stop…taking things in…" she sniffled, "it'll be like accepting that something's really happening. I just…I can't do that."

"Ignoring this isn't going to make it go away."

She pulled away from him, "I'm not ignoring it! I'm fighting it! I have to fight it and this is the only way I know how."

"You can fight it a different way!" he insisted, grasping at straws.

"No!" Hermione pounded her fist off of the bureau. "I'm Hermione Granger, for Merlin's sake! I work through things…I solved the potions riddle and got you into get the Sorcerer's stone, I figured out the basilisk, I…I helped you save Sirius and Buckbeak…and…and the Department of Mysteries…and the Attack on Hogwarts…I'm the smart one, Harry…I'm the brightest witch since Rowena Ravenclaw!" She seemed to be losing her speed. "I helped you defeat the most evil wizard in all of history! I'm…I'm better than some killer memory charm! Don't you understand? I'm not just going to sit back and let this thing rape my mind. I can't just let it kill me."

"I know," Harry gave a defeated sigh.

"What?"

"You're Hermione Granger…the brightest witch of our age. I know that if there's a way to figure something out, you'll find it." With that, he bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving her alone in the room.

"How's the weather, mate?" Ron, who'd clearly been pacing when Harry came out, asked, raking a hand through his hair.

"Stormy," he assessed, shaking his head. "She knows it's bad…she just doesn't know what to do about it."

"Maybe I should go in and have a chat, what d'you think?"

Harry shook his head again, clapped a hand to his best friend's shoulder and led him away from the door. "Best to leave her alone-I suggested she not go back to school…don't think she's too fond of anyone right now."

"Oh, brilliant, Harry," Ron rolled his eyes.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. Don't look at me like that, Ron, you were going to say the same thing if it had been you."

"But I probably would've phrased it better."

Harry decided not to say anything and keep at least one of his best friends speaking to him. They returned to the living room, where Ginny had set out soup and salads for lunch. Harry wasn't hungry; his stomach twisted every time he thought of Hermione's face when he'd suggested she leave school. She wouldn't do it, he knew, she'd stay in her Healer training until her mind was mush if it meant not giving in. When it came to taking care of herself, Hermione Granger was one of the most stubborn witches he'd ever encountered.

Which is why he, along with everyone else, was horribly shocked when she emerged from her room late that evening and made her announcement.

"From now on, the base of our operations will be at the Burrow-I received an invitation from Molly early this evening and have decided to take her up on her offer." Everyone seemed surprised that Molly Weasley already knew of the events of the day, though no one seemed surprised at her invitation. "Once I'm well again," she continued, "we can all return home." She stopped in front of the fire place, "Unless the two of you would like to stay here, of course," her attention turned to Ron and Harry, who glanced at one another and shook their heads.

"I'm fine," Ron shrugged.

"Yeah, I'm good," threw in Harry.

"Good, all settled then." Hermione clapped her hands together and returned to her business-mode. "Now, Lupin, you said something about having sources somewhere?"

"Yes, I've got some people I've been contacting-shamans, a few people in South America…it may take some time, but I'm hopeful…"

Hermione nodded sat down on the floor in front of the open books. "What do we know so far?"

***

What they knew, and what they would continue to learn in the weeks that followed, would prove to be very little. The books and parchment Malfoy had dropped off proved to be helpful, but nothing near what they would need to get a firm grasp on what they were dealing with.

Things were better at the Burrow-having the Weasleys all together always seemed to lighten even the most dismal of moods and the most disappointing days of ill-discovery.

True to her word, Hermione returned to her Healer concentration with just as much fervor as school work had always inspired in her, but with fewer of the same results. She was no longer top of her class, her grades were slipping, and she seemed to be having a harder time keeping up with all of her course work. Ron noticed her struggling one night as they sat on opposite ends of the couch, each working on respective homework.

"All right, Hermione?" he asked gently, breaking her concentration.

"All right," she answered with a shrug, "you?"

"Fine," he shrugged as well. A silence passed over them before Ron swallowed hard and leaned across the sofa and pulled her text from under her eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked indignantly and pulled it back.

He sighed, "No one would think any less of you if you took a break, you know."

Hermione pursed her lips, "I discussed this with Harry; I would think less of me."

"Well, now you're discussing it with me, Hermione-and I think you need a break."

Her chocolate eyes flashed angrily, "Oh that's just wonderful, Ronald. Order me about like I'm a first year again, why don't you?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "I'm not attacking you, for Merlin's sake! I'm trying to help you!"

"Well I don't need your help," she gathered her things into her arms and got to her feet. "If I'm not mistaken, usually it's you who need my help-and I must say I'm much more comfortable with that situation."

She stalked to the doorway and went to turn around once again to add her final word when she stopped. Ron's forehead crinkled as he watched her sway in place before finally, without any further warning, she crumpled like a tissue.

He leapt to his feet and caught her just before her head crashed to the floor. "Mum!" he called, feeling a panic rise in his voice. "Mum, come quick!" Molly was at his side in an instant and suggested he get her upstairs to Ginny's room.

Her eyelids fluttered open as Ron placed her gently under the covers of her bed. "What happened?" she asked-her voice was just above a whisper.

"You passed out," he answered simply and tucked the blankets around her.

"I did?"

"We were having a row," Ron reminded with a small smile. It faded as a look of confusion passed over her face. "You don't remember?"

Hermione shook her head, "I'm sorry…if I said anything dreadful."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, "No more dreadful than usual. Maybe you should get some rest."

"Mmm hmm," she murmured and rolled over, nearly asleep as it was.

Ron walked quickly down the stairs, not surprised to see Harry in the living room, looking concerned. "She fainted," he informed his best friend. "She's upstairs asleep right now but Harry," Ron looked around and lowered his voice, "she's getting worse…and fast. We've got to do something, mate."

"I know," Harry sighed as Ron sat down on the sofa. "Lupin's working `round the clock trying to figure something out. I'm just about to head over there now. Care to join me?"

Ron shook his head and motioned to his Auror training, "Loads to do. Let me know what happens, though."

***

Lupin closed the door behind Harry. "I think you should sit down," he began, running a hand through his thinning hair as he took a seat behind his desk.
Feeling quite thirteen, Harry sat obediently, his eyes narrowed. "What's wrong?" he asked instantly.
"Harry, you're not going to like what I have to tell you," Lupin began, twisting his hand together nervously.
"Just tell me, then, Lupin. I can handle it."
"I…I don't…I'm not sure I can cure Hermione."
Harry swallowed hard. "You mean you can't cure her here."
"No, Harry. I'm not sure there's a way to cure her…at all."
"Lupin…don't tell me that. There's got to be something we can do...there's always something…anything."
"I've been up all night trying to prove myself wrong. From everything I've been able to find-which hasn't been much-there is no cure for this curse. No counter-curse, no elixir, and there is no one to have ever survived it."
Harry sighed grievously, "This is all my fault."
"This by no accounts means I'm going to stop trying, Harry," Lupin assured him, watching as the young man covered his face with his hands. "I'm saying that right now…things don't look good." He paused, "there are still a few sources I haven't checked. I'm waiting on an owl from a friend in-," Lupin was cut off as Harry hurled a glass figurine from the desk and shattered it against the wall. "Harry…"
The young man gave no evidence of hearing him as his green eyes flashed angrily. He got to his feet, kicking the chair behind him over and shoving a row of books off of the desk. Lupin watched helplessly as he stalked to the wall and attempt to bury his foot in the stone. With each kick, Harry let out a horrible sound of frustration. He sounded almost animal. "It's not," he punched the wall, "fucking," and again, "FAIR!" he hollered, fists dropping in dangerous fists at his sides.
It was when he set his sights on the bookshelf that Lupin leapt to his feet and grabbed Harry by the shoulders. "Dumbledore may have tolerated you smashing all of his possessions and throwing a tantrum, Harry, but I won't allow it. Sit down and calm yourself."
Harry felt the anger draining from him; it was replaced with remorse as he looked around the office he'd just made a mess of. "Sorry," he muttered, turning setting his chair right, "about this. And the glass…I didn't mean…"
"Not to worry. A gift from an old squeeze-nothing I'll miss too much." With a flick of his wand, Lupin set the books right on the desk and had deposited the broken glass into the trash. They were quiet for a moment. "I quite agree with you, Harry, this isn't fair." Harry looked up, "But thinking with your heart, being ruled by your emotions like this…it will do you no good. You can't keep reacting to every bit of bad news like this."
"How can I not, Lupin? It's Hermione," Harry insisted through gritted teeth and glassy eyes. "I'm the reason she's like this in the first place."
"Blaming yourself isn't going to help matters either. You told her not come along and she did anyway. It doesn't matter why she was there-the point is, she was and now we've got to deal with the consequences." Harry didn't say-or throw-anything, so Lupin continued. "I need your help, Harry. I want your help. But you're no good to me until you come to terms with the idea that this may be turning into a worst-case scenario."
"I can't. I can't accept that. Maybe about anyone else-but not Hermione." Harry kept his eyes on the ground but his voice sounded dangerously close to breaking at any moment.
"Harry, I know how much you care about her. I know this is hard for you…"
"I'm more afraid of her dying than she is," Harry raised his frightened eyes to Lupin's. "What is that?"
Remus smiled sadly to himself, came around the side of the desk, and put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "I think you know what that is."
"I can't lose her, Remus. I-I just can't." They locked eyes. "Please help her."
Lupin looked helpless. "Harry, I can't promise-"
"Please."
The older man sighed, feeling very old indeed. "I'll do my best."

A/N: So not a very happy chapter. But it's been a long time coming and I wanted to do it asap. Much love to anyone still interested!

Also, there's a bit of Angel quoting/interpretation here. So…if you caught it, great. If not, that's cool too.

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