Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: I still own nothing of the Harry Potter story. I don't own the lyric bits. I don't own very much at all.

A/N: Okay… I've said it before, I'll say it again now. I never intended this to be a foreign language lesson. The Japanese words and phrases I use here are mainly for colour. I'm seriously considering making the foreign phrases italicized and bolded to denote them as actually being foreign. We'll see… This chapter was a bit difficult for me, halfway through it, I discovered a mistake I made which changed the entire story in a drastic way, so I had to re-write much of it, hence the delay… No, they haven't made it to the Ministry yet, they haven't made it to Grimmauld, and Harry still hasn't got his driving lesson. All that may come up in the future. All of you 'Vernon-haters' will see the start of the payback he'll be getting, but not from Harry… yet. I'm still beta-less, so all errors are mine. R&R& Enjoy!

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Chapter 17: The Blood of Kotone.

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I tried, God, I tried
To tell you what you need to hear
It's lost deep inside
These prison walls known as 'Fear.'

I'm an ordinary girl,
with a sad, ordinary smile,
but with an ordinary touch
the fear has passed,
I'm falling fast
to a place I've missed for a while.

Just an ordinary girl,
with extraordinary dreams
but in my ordinary life
I bear the shame
I'm to blame

I built these walls known as 'Fear.'

Excerpt from the song 'Fear' by Michiko Aoki (lyrics translated/modified from Japanese)

-----~-----

Petunia Dursley sat alone in her spacious den on a long, comfortable sofa, surrounded by pictures and mementos of her loving family. On every wall, along every shelf, pictures of Vernon and her 'Dudders' beamed back at her from every direction. Normally, this was the time of day where she would sit back and unwind after a whirlwind round of cleaning her fabulous new house, but recently, her worried mind hadn't given her much of a chance to relax.

She sat, sullen faced, sifting through stacks of old letters and photographs. She remembered a time when she couldn't bear to look at any of them, she just had them hidden away in a box in a forgotten corner in the attic at Privet Drive. These recent weeks, she found herself browsing through the shoebox more and more often.

She picked up the one photograph that seemed to hold her attention more than the others, the one with her sister, her sister's husband, and 'him.' She watched as the image of her sister held the baby close and kissed his then unblemished forehead while the man stood beside her with his arm around her waist, looking fondly down on his son. Petunia had been noticing the gradual change in the image of Harry over the past week, looking less and less emaciated as the days passed.

Vernon had told her the date that Harry was supposed to return from that 'freak' school, and that date had passed the week before. He usually worked himself up into a lather as the date drew closer, but this year he seemed positively giddy. Knowing full well that Harry had been out of the school and in London for the past month, she was curious as to exactly what Vernon would say to her when she informed him that little fact. She decided, while angrily stuffing the letters and photos back into the old shoebox, that informing him was exactly what she was going to do.

Vernon was in his favorite place, reclining on a floating lounge bobbing heavily in the glistening, Olympic-sized pool in the back yard and sipping on a large brandy that was floating on a pad next to him. He was conversing with his rather large sister, Marge, who was sunning herself on a lounge chair beside the pool and watching the playful antics of her pack of dogs as they made a soiled shamble of the formerly pristine lawn. As Petunia stepped out onto the paver stone patio, she heard Vernon laughing over something Marge had just said.

"Vernon, when did you say we were supposed to pick up Harry?" asked Petunia in a neutral voice.

Vernon's chuckle was abruptly halted when he wildly tipped from the floating lounge and submerged for a moment before he floundered to the surface, red-faced and spluttering out pool water. Once he reached the pool's edge, he brushed the wet, thinning hair from his face. His beady eyes darted between his concerned sister and his stoic wife as he answered cautiously, "Well… um… I received another letter from that Headmaster Bumblebee of his… that 'boy' won't be returning here, he was sent to those red-headed frea- 'friends' of his."

Petunia's eyes narrowed, "Oh? It's nice of you to tell me about that. When, exactly, did you get this 'letter'?"

Vernon's face began to take on the bright purple tinge as he answered, "It arrived at my office last week."

Marge, never able to keep her opinions to herself, bustled into the conversation, asking Petunia, "When have you become so concerned about that little criminal? I'd think you'd be glad to be rid of him."

Not fazed at all, Petunia asked Vernon in a calm, but chilly voice, "How is it that Dumbledore was able to write a letter to you last week, when he's been dead for almost six weeks?"

The purple tint to Vernon's face almost instantly turned to ash, "What? How do you know that?"

Ignoring the question, she continued, "I know something else, too. I know that Ho- his school closed two weeks early this past term. Tell me, Vernon, why did you say that he was staying there longer? Was it another letter from his dead headmaster?"

Marge's face turned a deep crimson as she stood from the lounge chair, "Petunia! You have no right to question your husband in that tone of voice! That's the same attitude you get from that brat nephew of yours!"

Vernon, having regained a little of his composure, said to Petunia, "What does it matter? That freak boy is gone, and he's not coming back! It's a good riddance to bad rubbish! That's what you wanted, too, so I really don't feel the need to explain anything!"

Petunia gave both Vernon and Marge each an icy glare before calmly saying, "That's true, you don't need to explain anything. Just as I don't need to cook your meals, clean your house or even stay in the same bedroom as you. When you're ready to tell me what's really going on, you can find me in the large guest room."

As Vernon spluttered out some unintelligible nonsense, Marge gave out a complaining grunt and said, "Wait! I'm staying in the large guest room!"

Without bothering to turn around, she called back over her shoulder, "You'll find your things in the hallway. The room Harry was supposed to stay in is available."

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Harry saw that he was still a few blocks away from the Ministry's callbox entrance. Deciding that he had time to catch Hermione following him, he ducked into a thin alley between two large brownstone buildings and hid with Kotone in the shadows behind a large rubbish bin.

Kotone gave him a questioning look and said, "Shishi-sama? What to do?"

Harry, was still smiling as he said, "We're just going to see how well that tracking spell on my trainer works, and give 'Washi' a little surprise."

Kotone rested her head on his shoulder as they both kept watch on the entrance to the alley. Suddenly she felt Harry's body become rigid as a loud hiss if pain escaped from between his clenched teeth. She released him when his hands flew to his forehead and he let out a strangled cry as he fell to the ground.

Kotone quickly drew her wand and looked around the alley, expecting someone to be there attacking Harry, not that she could really do anything if there were, she hardly knew any useful spells. Seeing no one, she kneeled beside Harry's writhing form. As one is prone to do when panicking, she totally forgot about the language barrier, "Shishi-san! Doushitano?" (Mr. Lion! What happened?) In tears and nearly hysterical, she began calling out, "Tasukete! Tasukete!" (Help! Help!)

Not knowing what else to do, she struggled to get him to roll over from his side onto his back, "Open eyes, Shishi-sama! Prease to open eyes!"

His eyes remained clenched shut. She pried his hands from over his scar and rested her forehead against his. She relaxed her mind and reached out for his, just as her mother had taught her those many years ago.

In her minds eye, she could see a dark stone chamber, dimly lit with torches set into the walls. She was watching a man writhing in pain on the floor before her. The sickly, yellow stream of a powerful Crucio was flowing from the wand in her hand. She was angry. Very angry. Not only did the raid on St. Mungo's fail to secure Harry Potter,but then she finds out that Bellatrix went ahead and attacked an orphanage as punishment for her husband's capture. She didn't authorize the strike on the orphanage, but the wench went ahead and attacked it anyway, and in the process got herself captured, and this coward fled and left her there, abandoning his fellow Death Eaters. She flicked her wand upwards, breaking the spell. She heard the panting pleas of her Death Eater, "Please, Master! We were only there for a few minutes when the aurors came! We were surrounded! I had to escape…" She could stomach no more of his cowardly groveling. She could feel her upper lip twitch into a hateful sneer. She felt the anger, the hatred build inside of her. She pointed her wand at her worthless, cowering Death Eater. Her vision was tinged with red and she could feel the orgasmic pleasure building in her core as she hissed out the words, "Avada Kedavra."

Everything went black, as if a light switch were turned off.

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Hermione nervously clutched the bag of books and supplies as she watched Harry walk out through the front door of The Leaky Cauldron into muggle London.

As soon as the door closed, she turned to Ron, "If he thinks I'm going to let him wander around London unprotected, he's got another think coming!" She then roughly shoved the heavy bag into Ron's arms.

Ron let out a tired sigh, "Hermione, he can take care of himself. If he finds out that…"

She narrowed her eyes and whispered dangerously, "That's what I thought when I left him at King's Cross, he really took care of himself then, didn't he?" Realizing that she was angrier with herself than with Ron, her voice softened as she added, "If anything were to happen to him, I'd never forgive myself. Take those to Grimmauld place and hide them, we'll meet up with you at the Ministry."

Ron watched as she cast a disillusionment spell on herself before stepping out of the door. Ron shook his head and smiled knowingly as he hefted the bag and Kotone's small trunk and walked to the back door where he could apparate to Grimmauld Place.

Hermione stepped out onto Charing Cross Road just in time to see Harry and Kotone disappear around the corner at the end of the street. She hurried down to the corner and peeked around, seeing them casually walking along the sidewalk. She wasn't too concerned about keeping them in sight, she knew that Tonks' tracking spell could lead her right to him if she lost track of him.

She followed at a discreet distance, making sure to scan the surrounding streets and buildings for anything unusual. As she made it to a corner that was a few blocks away from the ministry, she peeked around, expecting Harry to be nearing the next corner. Her heart lodged in her throat as she scanned the nearly empty street, with only a few muggles going about their business with no sign of Harry and Kotone anywhere.

She immediately pulled out her wand and whispered, "Sequor Sirius."

The wand arced in her hand and pointed further down the block to where she had expected them to be. She cautiously made her way down the sidewalk in front of a set of large, brownstone apartments when she heard a strangled cry coming from an alley just ahead of her. Her grasp tightened around her wand as she peeked around the corner into the shadowed alley.

She felt her heart begin to race.

She saw Harry about twenty feet into the alley, silent and unmoving, lying in the dirty alley near a large rubbish bin with Kotone kneeling above him. She had her hands on his wrists, pinning his arms to the ground, and her face seemed to be resting against his. Her hair was flailing around her head and her tail was wildly twitching from under her duster. She could hear Kotone's deep, rumbling growl as her body seemed to convulse over him. It almost appeared that she was snogging him… then with horror, she thought, 'or biting him!'

In a panic, she pointed her wand at Kotone.

"Stupefy!"

The stunner hit the little girl squarely between her shoulder blades. Hermione watched as Kotone's body slumped and rolled off from over Harry. Immediately, she heard a loud groan from him as his hands flew to his head. Hermione sprinted towards him, half-expecting to find him with a mangled face and lying in a pool of blood. She skidded to a halt, dropped to her knees and then lifted him up into a sitting position while hugging him tightly. She pulled back and looked at him, relieved to find only a few small drops of blood spattered on one of his cheeks.

"Are you all right? What happened?" Her voice was strained and shrill as she scanned him for any injury while wiping the drops of blood from his face, "I knew I shouldn't have let you go off on your own! How did she manage to get you into this alley?"

Harry opened his eyes, pulled away from Hermione, leaned over and retched out what little breakfast he had managed to eat that morning. He was out of breath and still clutching his scar.

"It wasn't her," he managed to cough out, "Voldemort… angry…"

"But Kotone, she… and the blood… she was on top of you, I thought…" She reached a hand to the stunned Kotone and gently rolled her onto her back. When the little girl's slightly bloodstained hair fell away from her face, Hermione let out a gasp when she saw the streams of blood running from her nostrils and the corners of her blankly staring, wide-open eyes. She looked as if she were dead.

Harry spit out the remnants of bile from his mouth and then looked over to Kotone in concern, "What happened to her?"

Hermione's answer came out in an anxious squeak, "I… I thought she was attacking you. I stunned her."

Harry sat on the ground with his throbbing head in his hands, "I think she was trying to help me. Wake her."

Hermione shakily pointed her wand at Kotone, "Rennervate."

Nothing happened.

Harry leaned over the little girl and felt for a pulse. He found one on her neck, but it was very weak. He looked at Hermione and angrily asked, "Hermione, what did you do to her?"

He saw the spark light behind Hermione's eyes. Her expression went from anxiety to intense passion as she answered in a low growl. "I told you. I stunned her. At first it looked as though she was snogging you, the way her face was pressed against yours, but that didn't make sense. She must have been attacking you, so I…"

"Oh? So now you're jealous of a little girl, too?"

"What do you mean by that?" she snapped back angrily.

"Isn't it obvious?" replied Harry as he wiped the blood that was still seeping from Kotone's eyes and nose, "You're angry because Ginny got me before you did."

"Got you?" Hermione harrumphed indignantly, "More like stole you, not that I consider you a possession…"

Harry looked into Hermione's eyes, "What do you mean, she 'stole' me?"

Hermione took a deep breath, preparing to spill that Ginny had used… something… against them. She could feel the anger and jealousy bubbling out from the pit she felt in her stomach. She recognized it immediately as the effect of the elixir, and could do nothing to quell the burning desire to hurt him… with words, with actions… She did the only thing she could think of and averted her eyes away from him. She stood up without replying and strode out of the alley onto the sidewalk. After taking a few deep, calming breaths, she drew her wand and held it out. A moment later, the Knight Bus appeared with an echoing bang. She turned back to Harry and said coldly, "Come on, bring her."

An old, bald wizard with a long, grey beard and dressed in what appeared to be an eighteenth century, red Beefeater uniform stepped into the entrance of the bus and began reading from a card, "Welcome to the Knight bus, emergency transportation for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Barry Barrows, and I'll be your conductor this morning."

As he was reciting his greeting, Harry stood shakily and tried to pick Kotone up from the alley. He found that carrying a little girl who was willing was a lot easier than manhandling the dead weight that he now had in his arms. He had one arm under her knees, and the other behind her back. As he approached the bus, Kotone's head lolled back, exposing her bloodied face to the startled conductor.

"Now see here!" Barrows loudly said, "You can't be bringing something like that onto the bus!"

Hermione spun on her heel to face him, ready to give him a lecture on the rights of half-breeds, but Harry spoke first while trying to nudge Kotone's head so that her collar once again hid her more 'prominent' facial features.

"Please, sir, she's hurt. We have to get her to St. Mungo's… it's not very far and I'll keep her hidden."

Barrows' eyes lifted from the half-breed to the face of the boy addressing him. A look of shock and anger lit in his eyes as he recognized 'The Coward Who Lived,' "You… Now you certainly aren't getting on this bus! Imagine leaving all those helpless patients to their doom! A little girl did more to help than you did!"

"That's rubbish!" shouted Hermione, "Harry left St. Mungo's before the Death Eaters attacked, and this," she said while pointing to Kotone, "IS the little girl that captured Lestrange!"

Barrows looked at the three youngsters silently for a moment, the stillness only broken by the quiet hum of the idling bus and the 'pat… pat… pat…' of Kotone's blood as it dripped from Harry's arm that was supporting her head. He finally spoke, "What's that… 'girl's' name, then?"

Both Harry and Hermione answered in unison, "Kotone Oota."

"Well, alright… but I still can't bring you to St. Mungo's. We were informed that they're not taking new patients. They're still repairing the building from the attack, and they're seriously short-handed."

Hermione looked nervously to Harry, and then to Kotone, who was becoming even paler than normal from the loss of blood. Guilt coursed through her, displacing the bitterness that she felt a minute before.

"Hogwarts?" asked Harry, "Can you take us there?"

"Hogsmeade is the closest we can get you, and you have to stay at the back of the bus with that thi… with 'her.'"

Hermione quickly paid the fares and helped Harry conceal Kotone in a corner seat in the back of the bus. After they were settled in, she quietly re-transfigured the collar of the black duster Kotone wore into a large hood that succeeded in concealing her hair and shadowing her face.

As the bus careened and swerved through the streets between the lurching and shuddering stops, Harry thought to himself how Kotone, under different circumstances, would be thoroughly enjoying the ride, seeing how much fun she had in the Gringotts carts. He ran the back of his hand softly over her face.

"Hermione," he whispered nervously, "she getting cold."

Hermione was anxiously biting her lower lip, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea that a simple stun would affect her like this."

"I don't think the stun did this," he said quietly, "When I felt the pain in my scar, I caught a glimpse of a chamber, and a man being tortured, then everything sort of faded into a fog and the pain disappeared. I think she was trying to block Voldemort, but I don't know for sure. When I felt her fall on me, the fog cleared and the pain returned, but not nearly as bad as when it began."

The bus suddenly shuddered to a stop and Barrows called out, "Hogsmeade."

A few moments later, they found themselves hurrying along the main street of Hogsmeade on their way to Hogwarts. Harry was soon gasping for air, and the painful throbbing in his head wasn't making the trip any easier. It felt like Kotone weighed twice as much as she did when she was awake.

They made it about halfway to the castle when Harry stopped and laid Kotone on the ground. He took a few moments to catch his breath, placing his hands on his knees and bowing his sweating face while Hermione rushed to them and tried to lift the girl by herself, just managing to heft her up from the ground.

Remembering how Tonks used a patronus to deliver a message to the castle the year before, Harry drew his wand and concentrated on where they were, and on summoning Hagrid from his hut while focusing his mind on the happiest memory he could think of. The memory of Hermione taking a shower briefly flitted through his mind, but he had a happier memory… a much more powerful one… 'Well, maybe I should have told you sooner. Being never told that you're loved is no way to go through life, I should know. That is changing for you today. I love you, Harry. No matter what else I say or do, and no matter what happens, don't ever forget that.'

He didn't forget. He would never forget the raw emotion that flooded him when he heard her say those words. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time… and it was powerful. He allowed the passion he felt at the memory to fill him as he pointed his wand up the road towards Hogwarts and cried, "Expecto Patronum!"

In a brilliant flash, a massive, golden stag materialized from the end of his wand, its nearly solid, metallic surface glistened in the late-morning sun. It was easily twice the size of the one he had conjured to save Hermione, Sirius and himself in his third year.

Hermione stared in awe at the enormous, golden stag as it raced down the road at an impossible speed and disappeared into the distance. She glanced at Harry, who looked just as surprised as she was. She hadn't had the chance to research the change in her own patronus, and upon seeing Harry's, she made a mental note to step that priority up a notch.

The first to arrive was Hagrid's huge, black dog, Fang. He still had patches of nearly bare skin showing through his fur in places, reminders of the attack of the Death Eaters on the school a few months before. He came happily bounding up to Harry, but seeming to sense the urgency of the teens, he slowed and just circled them slowly, allowing Harry to give him a friendly pat.

Less than a minute later, Hagrid, brandishing his trusty crossbow, came hurrying along, calling out to them, "'Arry! 'Ermione! What're ya doin' ere?" As he neared, he saw the girl that Hermione was struggling to carry, "Wha's tha' ya got there?"

With worry evident in his voice he answered, "She's hurt, we have to get her to Madam Pomfrey quickly."

As Hagrid stepped up to Hermione to relieve her of her burden, he hesitated for only a moment when he saw Kotone's blood covered face before scooping the frail little girl carefully in his arms.

Hagrid rushed ahead to the castle while Harry and Hermione, still winded from the trek, walked slowly behind, trying to recover some of their spent energies.

They entered the castle and immediately made for the hospital wing. As soon as they opened the doors to the infirmary, they met a cacophony of sound. Healers rushed from bed to bed, administering potions, casting diagnostic charms and tended to the throng of patients that occupied nearly every bed in the infirmary.

They saw Hagrid at the far end, bowed low and speaking with the very harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey in front of a curtained-off bed. As they approached, Madam Pomfrey looked over to them and asked in a hushed tone, "What happened to her?"

"We're not really sure," answered Harry quickly, "She was hit with a stunner while… 'helping' me when my scar acted up. We tried to Rennervate her, but it didn't seem to do any good. We weren't allowed to take her to St. Mungo's, so we thought to bring her here."

"Yes, you and everyone else seems to think this is a St. Mungo's annex or some such," she said with a touch of annoyance in her voice, "But I must say it's a good thing you got her here when you did, a few more minutes and she would have been dead." She then gave Harry an appraising look as she drew her wand and passed it over Harry, "You say your scar hurt again?"

When Harry just nodded, she asked, "Are you feeling any residual effects?"

He absently ran his hand over his forehead as he answered, "A headache, and I'm a bit knackered…"

Madam Pomfrey summoned a potion from her stores and handed it to Harry before saying, "I'd normally keep you here overnight, but under the circumstances… Take that potion and get some rest." She then looked between both Harry and Hermione, "Since you're here, you should pay a visit to Headmistress McGonagall. She's in her office. I'll floo her to let her know that you're on your way."

"What about the girl?" asked Hermione nervously, still feeling somewhat guilty, still concerned that she may have caused Kotone's injury.

"I managed to get the hemorrhaging under control, but she's lost a lot of blood. I gave her a blood-replenishing potion, but she'll need to stay here overnight, at the very least. She's that Oota girl, isn't she?"

They both nodded, and Harry said, "She's due to start here at Hogwarts this year, if it re-opens, that is..."

"Yes," Madam Pomfrey commented, "well, that's part of the reason you should see the Headmistress. You can visit Miss Oota in the morning, she should be awake by then."

As they stepped through the door out from the infirmary, they were surprised to see Hagrid come out of the door right behind them with a somewhat distraught expression.

"What're you two doin' with the likes of summut like 'er?" Hagrid asked in a whisper.

"She's a friend of mine," said Harry, slightly taken aback, "I guess I'm sort of her guardian now, though not officially. What's the problem?"

Hagrid seemed genuinely surprised by Harry's statement, "Her guardian? You're no' even o' age yet."

"Listen," Harry said shortly, "I can see why people wouldn't take kindly to her. I'm not blind, I know what she looks like, but she's alone in the world now. She has absolutely no one to take care of her. She was in that rat's nest of what these wizards call an orphanage, which doesn't exist any more because it was decimated by Death Eaters just this morning. I'll be damned if the Ministry throws her back into another shit-hole because she doesn't have any money, or because she's a half-breed, or half-blood or any other label they want to put on her!"

Hagrid tried to interrupt, but Harry's voice started rising in volume, not caring if anyone in the infirmary could hear, "She's been holding on to me like a bloody life-preserver since I found her cowering in a closet in that filthy orphanage, holding Sirius's murderer at bay until I could get there. She's displayed nothing but genuine honesty and gentleness ever since I've known her. She can't help it if she's ugly, or gruesome, or whatever else people want to call her. I promised her that I would protect her, and by Merlin, I will, even if I have to adopt her when I come of age next week!"

Even with the shock that was apparent on her face, Hermione felt a swell of pride towards Harry. He has rarely shown that level of determination or resolve about anything, but hearing his defense of one of the Wizarding world's 'under-class,' she couldn't help but to internally beam at him.

"'Arry!" said Hagrid, finally able to get a word in, "I wan't disparagin' 'er. I was jus' surprised tha' you'd befriended an elder race."

Slightly mollified, Harry said, "The goblins called her an 'elder.' What exactly do they mean?"

"Ah, I keeps forgettin' 'ow little you know of the wizardin' world. You'd think they'd teach this stuff in 'istory of magic," said Hagrid, pausing to consider how best to describe what 'Elders' were, "What do the muggles say about goblins?"

Hermione instinctively went into lecture mode, "Well, in some circles, Goblins are considered to be the cousins of gnomes, except that gnomes are stupid and no one in their right mind would confuse the two. The word 'goblin' comes from 'Gob' or 'Ghob,' the king of the gnomes, whose inferiors were called Ghob-lings. However, according to 'The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English,' the name is probably derived from the Anglo-French gobelin, or in medieval Latin gobelinus, which is probably a diminutive of Gobel, a name related to the word 'kobold.' Goblin is also related to the French lutin, and...

"Hermione!" exclaimed Harry exasperatedly.

"Oh, sorry..." she smiled sheepishly, took a deep breath and continued as if she weren't interrupted at all, "Well, according to muggle folklore, goblins have a somewhat bestial appearance: their brow is fully covered with thick hair and their mouth is filled with yellowed, crooked teeth. They have some traits of old men, which can include shortsightedness, but they are generally described as being wiser than humans are. Some of the more outlandish claims are that they steal human women and children and hide them away underground, that goblin women steal human babies and replace them with ugly goblin babies, and they are an entirely male race. Like other fairies, goblins were more harmless early in muggle history, before the Puritans demonized them. When speaking a human tongue, goblins will stereotypically refer to themselves in third person, much like the house-elves actually do."

When Hermione paused to take another breath, Hagrid successfully interrupted, "What if I were to tell youse that most o' tha' stuff abou' 'outlandish claims' is true?"

"You mean about replacing human babies and stealing women?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

Hagrid nodded grimly, and said, "Aye, tha' an a lotta things that aren't well spoken abou', an' since you mentioned 'em, 'Ermione, what do yas know abou' the 'ouse-elves?"

Hermione visibly bristled, wanting to very much rail about the abuses and enslavement of an entire race of magical creatures, but deferred to Harry who said, "They've been enslaved by wizards for centuries, may of them are treated rather cruelly. I've seen first-hand how Dobby was treated in the hands of the Malfoys. Nobody ever told us about how that came to be, it was never in any of the histories we've taken."

Again, Hermione felt the swelling in her heart as she looked in wonder at Harry, realizing that he actually did pay attention to her when she was spouting her facts about S.P.E.W. to Ron and him. He actually did listen to her. She was broken out of her musings when Hagrid spoke next.

Knowing that Hermione was fighting for the rights of house-elves, he looked at her apologetically as he said, "The 'ouse-elves enslavement, as well as the goblins' complacency, was a direct result o' an agreement between the elders and wizards. Ya sees, the 'ouse-elves sided wit' the goblins durin' the las' rebellion. They use'ta be hired servants, but they ruthlessly murdered their wizardin' masters in their sleep at the start o' the rebellion. The remainin' wizards, mos'ly half-bloods who couldn't afford 'ouse-elves, knew they were losin' the war. They called upon the elders, a race o' dark 'unters who turned the tide o' the war. After the rebellion, the 'ouse elves were magically bound to serve wizards as repayment for their treachery. Tha's why they's not an 'ole lot o' pure-blood families t'day, an' why the 'ouse-elves can't take payment for their service, an old debt that's best not left unpaid. The goblins live in fear tha' the elders will return if they cross the wizards, so they mos'ly keeps ta themselves an' their business."

A long silence ensued, until Hagrid said softly, "I'm sorry, 'Ermione, tha's why I didn' want'a be involved with yer S.P.E.W., an' 'Arry, all I's meant ta say abou' tha' little girl in there, was take care o' 'er. She's more importan' than ye may realize." With that, Hagrid gently patted Harry on the shoulder, which buckled his knees slightly, and left the stunned pair standing at the doors to the infirmary.

They were about to descend the stairs when Madam Pomfrey's voice called out from behind them, "Harry, Hermione, there's someone in here who wishes to speak with you for a moment."

They glanced at each other curiously, and then followed Madam Pomfrey back into the infirmary. She led them to a bed where a battered girl was resting. Her face was bruised and covered with jagged cuts and hex-marks. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut as she looked up to the pair. Harry heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath as recognition hit her.

"Daphne Greengrass? Merlin, what happened?"

When Harry heard the name, his mouth fell open as he, too, recognized the formerly attractive, blonde Slytherin.

Daphne opened her mouth to answer, revealing many empty spaces where most of her teeth used to reside. She only managed a choked sob before she turned her face away.

"She was recovered from the ruins of her family's home this morning," stated Madam Pomfrey, answering for Daphne, "It appears that the Death Eaters didn't care if they ended the line of one of the older pureblood families. She is the only survivor."

Harry looked down at Daphne grimly, surprised that Voldemort's henchmen would attack the family of a student in his ancestor's house.

Daphne turned back to face them, motioning them to come closer with her bandaged hand, which had three fingers missing. When they leaned closer, she spoke through her broken teeth in a slurred, hoarse whisper, "They wanted to shilencsh me. I had Penni Pinder give page to Weashley, I'm shorry… didn't know… The booksh in shecret 'partment, shtone behin' Panshy's bed in Shlytherin dorm. Sho shorry…" Daphne turned her tearing eyes ashamedly away, while Madam Pomfrey ushered the two from the infirmary.

As they were descending the stairs from the infirmary, Harry asked, "Who is that 'Penni Pinder' that she mentioned?"

"She was a Hufflepuff prefect," answered Hermione icily, "she graduated two years ago."

Harry didn't know what to think about whatever the Greengrass girl was trying to tell them, and what it had to do with the Weasleys, but Hermione's eyes shone with anger as she clutched at the torn page in her pocket. She would soon be one step closer to finding out the truth about Ginny's 'elixir.'

They both walked in silence towards the Headmistress's office on the second floor. As they approached the gargoyles guarding the staircase leading to her office, Hermione stopped Harry by grabbing his elbow and spinning him around to face her.

"Harry, I'm sorry… You know I didn't mean to hurt Kotone. I didn't stun her out of jealousy, I just wanted to protect you. From the way it appeared to me, she…"

"I know," he cut her off, "I know you'd never do something like that if you didn't have a good reason. I really don't blame you."

Hermione was looking deeply into his tired eyes, still feeling the rush of emotion that hit her during the conversation with Hagrid. At that particular moment, she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his neck and snog him until he passed out.

Harry, who was looking right back into Hermione's darkening eyes, saw within them the same 'fire' he had seen only a few times before. She was standing so close. He could just barely detect the essence of her cinnamon-scented soap as she almost imperceptibly leaned closer to him. His eyes flicked down to her lips, slightly parted and glimmering with some unknown-flavoured lip-gloss. Oh, how he wanted to discover what that flavour was…

He felt himself subconsciously lean forward. He was surprised to find that his hands had somehow found their way to her waist, and he wondered how long it would take for him to regret what he was sure they were about to do. Her eyes, now closer than he'd ever seen them, slowly fluttered closed and he instantly missed the deep pools of chocolate.

Harry's breath hitched as he felt Hermione's hands slide over his shoulders to his back, sending a slight shudder over his body. He could feel a light puff of breath from her lips, which were so very close to his that he couldn't see them anymore. He was right, she was just tall enough where he didn't have to crane his neck very far to have her lips in line with his. His eyes instinctively closed as he moved his head to eliminate that last centimeter of space between their lips.

The instant their lips met, a pulse of magic ballooned between their bodies, violently pushing them apart. The next thing Harry knew, he was sitting on the stone floor, massaging the large lump on the back of his head where it struck the wall of the second-floor corridor. He opened his eyes to see Hermione sprawled against the stone railing that overlooked the entrance hall twenty feet away.

"Hermione!" he called as he unsteadily got to his feet and made his way over to her. She was just starting to stir as he reached her.

"What happened?" she asked with a pained moan as she rubbed her hip, apparently where she hit the railing.

"I have no idea!" he answered as he carefully looked her over, searching for any injury, "Are you all right?"

"I think so," she said as she allowed Harry to help her up from the floor. She felt the tears well up in her eyes, believing that they had just discovered one of the effects of the elixir.

"It's not fair," she sobbed, "Damn it, it's not fair!" She looked into Harry's eyes, "This is how it's supposed to be. We're supposed to be together, I know it… I can feel how right it is, but that dirty, cheating wench… she…" Hermione threw her arms around Harry, rested her head on his shoulder, and cried, "It's just not fair."

"What wench are you talking about?" asked Harry, "Is it Greengrass?"

After a minute, she calmed down enough to release Harry. She took his hands in hers and said, "You know that I love you, Harry. I've told you as much. Believe it or not, I know how you feel about me, what we just tried to do is evidence enough of that. I saw it in you a long time ago, I just thought I'd have to bide my time until you realized how you really felt, the last thing I'd ever do is pressure you or influence you in any way."

Hermione paused, biting her lip worriedly while deciding if she should take the chance and tell him what Ron had discovered about Ginny. She figured it would be best to wait until she had a better understanding of the effects when she got her hands on that book.

With a sigh, she pulled Harry along towards the gargoyle, saying, "Come on, let's see McGonagall."

The gargoyle stepped aside as they approached, obviously expecting them. They rode the moving staircase up, and a minute later, they were standing before the large oak door. A murmur of whispering voiced could be heard through the door, which dropped into silence when they rapped the lion's head knocker.

McGonagall's stern voice called out, "Enter," and they opened the door to find the room nearly filled to capacity with Order members, some of which had obviously just arrived and brushing the soot from their clothing. As they stepped into the crowded office, the fireplace erupted into green flames and yet another member stepped into the room.

The group parted, allowing an opening between the two teens and McGonagall's desk. McGonagall looked up at them over her glasses and said in her stiff brogue, "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger… I believe we have some issues to discuss."

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