Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I think I own Kotone and a few other characters, and probably most of the plot… I don't own the lyric bits, either!
A/N: Not much to say here, this chapter sets the stage for future events with Voldemort and for what our heroes have planned for the immediate future. Harry's still out of it, but the path is cleared for Hermione to realize her full potential. Not much action, but this is a turning point for the entire story. I am still without a competent beta reader, so any grammatical mistakes you find are merely typos… I think… anyway, R & R & Enjoy!
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Chapter 29: Pride Swallowed
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I've never seen you look like this without a reason…
another promise fallen through, another season passes by you.
I never took the smile away from anybody's face…
and that's a desperate way to look for someone who is still a child.
I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered,
but you can't stay here with every single hope you had shattered.
I'm not expecting to grow flowers in a desert,
but I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime.
So take that look out of here, it doesn't fit you.
Because it's happened, doesn't mean you've been discarded.
Pull up your head off the floor, come up screaming.
Cry out for everything you ever might have wanted.
I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered,
but you can't stay here with every single hope you had shattered.
Excerpt from the song, 'In a Big Country,' by the band, Big Country.
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In a makeshift flat underneath satellite power transfer station of the Yorkshire Electricity Group PLC, a group of figures were waiting impatiently for the return of their raiding party. The sub-basement, made secure by a muggle-repelling ward and a series of keyed anti-intrusion wards, was the current hideout for the majority of the recent Azkaban escapees and the remainder of Voldemort's inner circle of Death Eaters. Most were not accustomed to such Spartan accommodations, but it was leagues better than a cell in Azkaban. None of the 'rank and file' Death Eaters knew of this particular hideout, so it was the most secure place they had at their disposal.
A group of Death Eaters was speaking in low murmurs while passing the time gambling with a set of animated werewolf figures that were battling on the tabletop. Every so often, an excited cheer would come from one of them while the Galleons changed hands after one of the figures was dispatched by the other.
A tall man with long, platinum blonde hair was pacing the floor silently, paying no attention to his brethren who were gathered around the table on the far side of the room. He would occasionally glance at a clock that was set up on a makeshift hutch near the cooker and coldbox, and with each glance, he seemed to become more agitated.
A large wizard pounded his fist loudly on the table when the werewolf figure he had bet on went down within seconds of the start. A short, plump witch with dirty blonde hair and rather crooked teeth snatched the last of his gold from his hand. He ruefully stepped away from the table and walked across the room to the pacing man.
After a minute of watching the elder Malfoy pace the length of the floor, Herman Goyle spoke, "Lucius, stop pacing, you're makin' the rest of us nervous."
"They should have been back by now," muttered Malfoy absently as he continued the circuit, as if he hadn't heard the other man at all, "It's already morning and we haven't heard a word."
"It's no good starin' at the clock. They'll be back. I have as much ridin' on this as you do, ya know? That kid o' mine wants to get yer kid back, sure an' I couldn't a kept 'im from goin' in the first place, but 'e's been itchin' to prove 'imself ta the Dark Lord, ya know?"
Lucius did indeed know about the state of his son's two lackeys, even though he'd never actually use that term in front of their fathers. Lucius stopped his pacing and faced the other man, "I know, and the Dark Lord has been… hinting… that we should give them more responsibilities. I'm just not sure that sending the boys off with Narcissa for this particular mission was… let us say, 'in his best interest.'"
"Come now, Lucius," said Terrance Crabbe, who had just left the gambling table with a considerably lighter purse, "The intelligence was good. When the old crackpot kicked it, most of the protections on that place dropped. It was weird the way the Black girls all remembered where that place was at the same time. Our scouts said that the place was mostly empty, and that it was likely that Draco was being held there. Seeing as how our spies in the Ministry haven't heard a thing about him and that place is being used by the Order, it seemed likely..."
An odd, almost frightened expression fell across Malfoy's face as a realization struck him. He turned and interrupted Crabbe, "What place is being used by the Order?"
Crabbe stared open-mouthed for a few moments, wondering if it was some kind of trick question, and then said hesitantly, "You know… the place that we think they're holding your son."
Malfoy's eyes hardened as he asked again, "The place! What is the name of the place! We've been talking about it for weeks!"
Both Crabbe and Goyle were standing dumbstruck, looking at each other with brows furrowed and jaws' slacked. After he was answered with nothing but silence, Malfoy turned to the rest of the Death Eaters still around the table.
"Where did the raiding party go?" He asked loudly, getting the attention of everyone immediately. A few muttered something about 'to rescue your boy, of course' or some other obtuse or obvious observation, while the expressions on the sharper Death Eaters turned to concerned frowns when they also couldn't come up with the name of 'the place.'
As if it was specifically summoned, a delivery owl carrying the morning edition of The Daily Prophet flew in from the upper level of the power transfer station and lit on the back of one of the wooden chairs around the table. Without even pausing, Malfoy drew his wand and sent a whooshing, green beam at the unsuspecting owl, who in turn relaxed its' talons from the back of the chair and fell to the floor dead. He bent down and retrieved the paper from the dead bird's leg and began reading. Slowly, his face became increasingly taut and the temperature in the already dank sub-basement seemed to drop several degrees as his eyes traveled down the front page.
Noticing this, Byron Mulciber tried to read the headline over his shoulder, "What is it, Lucius? What has happened?"
"They've been caught by the Ministry… the lot of them," Lucius crumpled the paper in his hand and threw it on the floor as he let out a low, angry growl and then hissed to the room, "Do you know what this means?"
Both the elder Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other with ashen faces, each knowing very well that their own sons had gone on this, what they were assured to be, an easy rescue mission. Goyle looked as though he wanted to say something, but kept quiet. Crabbe, on the other hand, spoke in a strained whisper to Lucius, "I know you are concerned about Narcissa, but surely, she's…"
"It is not my wife that the Dark Lord wants. It is Draco who is important here."
Crabbe looked shocked at this statement, "How can you say that? Your wife is one of us… the inner circle…"
"When I was sent to Azkaban, the Ministry instructed the goblins to have the family vault sealed off from me. Naturally, the Bloodline Preservation Act prevented the vault from going to Narcissa, as it was enacted to prevent some underhanded woman from marrying into a pureblood family to get the title and then arrange for the husband to have a little 'accident.' Draco, being the only male heir, has solitary access to the Malfoy family vault, and our Lord has need of it. Do you know what he will do when he finds out about this fiasco?" then he rhetorically asked, "Why did he insist on us sending the children to rescue him?"
None of the others in the room dared to speak, but an answer to Malfoy's question came, and not the answer he had expected or welcomed. The faces of everyone in the room fell into concerned frowns as each of the people there simultaneously began to absently grasp at their left forearms.
Alecto Carrow turned to her brother, Amycus, and, while donning his Death's Head mask, stated needlessly, "It would appear that our Lord has seen the paper as well."
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Hermione awoke after only a few hours. It wasn't because she wasn't tired, but because of the barrage of vicious, hateful, verbal diarrhea that would have made the portrait of Mrs. Black pale, before Hermione had banished the painting's essence, of course. A hasty silencing spell and an added set of extra-tight magical ropes put an end to Harry's early morning tirade. She made it a point not to show him that any of his words affected her, even though they tore her up inside each time she was subjected to them.
Only after she silenced Harry did she notice something odd about the room… something unusual, but couldn't quite put her finger on it immediately. Realizing that she wasn't about to get any more sleep, she decided to head to the kitchen for a quick breakfast and then head to the library. She had every intention to disprove what the book had told her the night before.
As she passed the sitting room on her way to the kitchen, Hermione looked in on Ron and Luna. She could tell the sofa had been recently magically enlarged so that two could fit comfortably as Luna, who appeared to be practically naked under the thin blanket covering the pair, must not have been asleep because she looked up at Hermione's nearly silent entrance. Luna gave her a beaming grin before snuggling her back even more firmly against Ron, who instinctively pulled the girl even closer in his sleep. Hermione gave Luna a polite smile and turned away to continue to the kitchen. The small smile she wore was quickly replaced with a forlorn frown.
As she cooked breakfast, she berated herself for not being happy for Ron and Luna. It wasn't like her to be jealous, but jealous she was. Not jealous of Ron, but of the relationship he was sharing with Luna… the kind of relationship that she almost had with Harry.
Apparently, the smell of food had roused Ron from his sleep, because as the last platter was filled with scrambled eggs, he made his appearance closely trailed by Luna.
They exchanged mumbled 'g'mornings' as they sat at the table and began serving themselves. Ron seemed much better this particular morning, but Hermione figured that it was as much Luna's ministrations as it was his natural healing process that he seemed so much more chipper this morning. Again, the pang of loss hit her as she watched Luna carefully fill Ron's plate before tending to her own.
Trying not to appear bitter, she joined them at the table with a forced smile and began to set her plate. As soon as her plate was filled and she began to eat, it dawned on Hermione what seemed off in Harry's room. Kotone wasn't in her usual spot on the floor beside Harry's bed. She glanced around the room, not really expecting to see the girl, and asked, "Have either of you seen Kotone this morning?"
Ron and Luna glanced at each other for a long moment and said "No" in unison.
Ordinarily, Hermione would have thought it cute, but her attitude since learning that she could be a Necromancer and her own feelings of loneliness was putting a definite crimp in her congeniality. She ate as quickly as she could, ignoring the disbelieving stares from Ron at the lack of her usual table manners. She had to find Kotone and ask her about what she knew of the different magic classes. The young half-demon must have read the book in her native language at some point, so maybe she had different theory on the tests that she had performed on herself.
Hermione finished in record time, and after vanishing the leftover scraps and putting her plate away, she went off to find the little half-witch. Thirty minutes later, she returned to the first floor to find Ron and Luna back in the sitting room, absorbed in a game of wizard's chess.
"Have you seen Kotone yet?" asked Hermione.
Ron looked up from the board towards a small wooden chair that sat nearby and said, "Huh? She was sitting here a minute ago. Funny, I didn't notice her leave."
"Well, if you see her, make sure that you tell her that I need to speak with her."
Ron watched Hermione walk back into the hallway, and not thirty seconds later, Kotone quietly walked in, crossed the room and sat in the wooden chair. He gave her a smile and said, "Hermione was just here looking for you… she says she needs to talk to you about something."
Kotone lowered her head and simply nodded.
Ron looked at Luna, and then shrugged as he directed his queen to, quite ruthlessly, behead one of Luna's bishops. Ron was keeping a surreptitious eye on Kotone as he played, and several minutes later he noticed Kotone's ears twitch and swivel on her head towards the door. Without lifting her head, Kotone rose from the chair, silently walked to the door and disappeared into the hall.
Not a minute later, Hermione returned and said with a hint of worry in her voice, "I still can't find her, and I've checked every room, including the basement! Do you think she's left the house?"
"She was here a minute ago, she left right before you arrived," stated Luna calmly before Ron had a chance to reply, "I think she might be avoiding you."
"I'd have to agree with Luna," added Ron, "I saw her ears twitching just before she left the room, I think she heard you coming."
Hermione paused in thought. She did remember Harry mentioning that Kotone had very good hearing, which was how the girl had overheard the discussion about horcruxes with Ron at the Leaky Cauldron. So why was Kotone avoiding her? Sure, she had stunned the girl a few times, but that spell doesn't do any physical harm at all. She then thought about the previous night, trying to remember anything she might have said… 'It's all rubbish… all she does is cry and bleed!'
Hermione grimaced at the memory. Was Kotone's hearing so keen that she could have overheard her callous statement from rooms away? Was Kotone really that far away at the time, anyway? Now that she thought on it, those words did seem a bit harsh. All right… very harsh, but her emotions were running a bit high at the time. She knew what she had to do, and the first step in making up with Kotone was waiting in the library.
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Kotone didn't like being in this large, dismal house. Not only did it remind her of the orphanage that she, until very recently, had lived in, but also there was barely anything for her to eat. Rodents usually frequented places where there was lots of stored food or binned refuse to keep them fed, but apparently, this house had been long abandoned before their arrival, so it contained precious little food for the scavengers, so very few of them ventured inside of the walls. She was getting very, very hungry and the prospects of a decent meal any time soon seemed slim, at best.
The few times she had set out in an attempt to catch a meal was usually met with frustration. The one time she almost caught her dinner was when she had heard Washi speaking about her. She was so distracted by Washi's words that she lost her concentration during the chase, resulting in not only failing to catch the rat, but proving that Washi's words about her were correct… again, the familiar feelings of being a burden and an inconvenience to everyone around her rose to the surface. For a while, she could think of nothing other than what life would be like being cared for by Shishi and Washi, but now she knew that could never be. She wasn't worth it. She would always be an ojyamamushi… a pest… a nuisance. Never had she missed her parents more at that moment, and she missed her Shishi.
Kotone was sitting amongst the cobwebs clinging to the chandelier in the large formal dining room that was off the kitchen, a place she found that was perfect for not wanting to be found. She had seen Washi come and go a few times during the day, knowing that the older witch was looking for her, but never thought to look up in her search. She didn't want to cause any more trouble than she already had. It seemed that all she was able to do was to cause trouble when she was only trying to help.
She would never forget the look on Washi's face when her advice was followed and the older witch opened her eyes. Kotone knew what Washi was trying to do… she had performed that same test on herself numerous times, only to discover that she was among the weakest types of witches… a simple illusionist, and not a very powerful one at that. If it weren't for her Oni blood, she wouldn't be anything special at all… it was funny that all she wanted was normalcy. At the time, all she was trying to do was to help Washi by telling her what she needed to do. She certainly didn't expect Washi to become so distraught over what she had discovered. She was only trying to help, but ended up hurting Washi again.
Kotone was surprised to find tears running down her cheeks and falling on the table far below her, leaving dark, random spatters on its' dusty surface. She would have fled the house if she had anywhere else to go, but as things were, she had to stay with her Shishi and hope that Washi was able to develop her powers enough to help him. She had never thought she'd ever miss being in that decrepit orphanage. Never had she missed her parents more than at that moment, and she missed her Shishi.
She still hadn't forgotten what she went through after her parents were killed. She knew no English at the time, so she couldn't even try to explain who or what she was. The wizards treated her as if she were an animal, kept in a cage and not even allowed to attend her parents' funeral. She couldn't help being what she was.
It was only after months of imprisonment in the bowels of the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures did someone find out who she was, and that was only because of a legal demand from Japan's Ministry of Magic to find the missing heir. They later sent word relating the disposition of the Oota family's wealth to a Motoko Hino, and were again inquiring on the whereabouts of a Miss Kotone Oota. The family's assets were stripped due to the fact that the legal heir, Kotone, never attended, or was even informed of the hearing, which was, of course, the British Ministry's fault entirely.
She couldn't help herself… the tears kept falling… and her stomach was growling.
Never had she felt so alone, and never had she missed her parents more… and she missed her Shishi.
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When Hermione entered the dining room for the fourth time that day, she happened to notice the numerous wet spatters on the dusty tabletop. Her eyes drifted up to the chandelier where Kotone was hiding. The young half-witch had her back to the door and was hanging onto the thick brass chain that was supporting the massive chandelier. As Hermione stood there watching, another drop fell to the table, creating another dark spatter in the lightly coloured dust.
"Kotone?" called Hermione softly, "Can you come down here for a few minutes? I'd like to speak with you."
Kotone started in surprise at hearing Hermione's voice. She looked down from her perch and simply nodded. She wrapped her tail around one of the candelabra's supporting shafts and gradually lowered herself by slowly uncoiling her tail. Once Kotone's tail was fully extended, she let herself drop the remaining distance and landed on the tabletop on just her fingernails and toenails.
Hermione couldn't help but compare her actions to that of a spider lowering itself on a thread of silk. She had wondered how the girl got up to the chandelier without disturbing the dust on the table, until she looked closer at the surface and saw the tiny marks left by Kotone's nails. She had to admit, the girl was smart… and sneaky.
Kotone deftly leapt from the table and landed on her feet. She quickly ran her sleeve over her face, and then stood quite still with her eyes fixed on the floor and her hands resting in front of her, tucked within the sleeves of her threadbare nightgown.
Hermione looked the girl over for a moment, feeling truly awful for accidentally insulting the little girl before her. She knelt down in front of Kotone, lifted her chin with one of her fingers, and looked into the girl's red, swollen eyes.
"Kotone, I know you heard what I said about you last night. I just want you to know that I was wrong, and that I'm sorry. I know how much you and Harry mean to each other, and I know that you've been doing your best to help everyone, even me. I haven't been very grateful towards you for what you've been doing. I know how much you sacrifice of yourself to help others, it's just that I've been feeling rather helpless myself. I know that it's not a very good excuse, but I do want you to know that I'm sorry and I never meant to hurt you."
Hermione watched as Kotone dropped her head again and continued to stare sadly at the floor. Hermione worriedly watched the girl for a few moments, concerned over her silence and wondering how she would react to the gift that she had made for her. She reached under her shirt, withdrew Kotone's white porcelain half-mask and held it out to the girl. When Kotone looked up, Hermione saw the puzzlement in her violet eyes.
"I've enchanted this mask for you. When it's worn, it will change the pitch of your voice by a few octaves, and should make some words a bit clearer… it will do a limited translation of some of the more common words and correct some of your syntax, but it won't be able to translate complete sentences. There's a slight delay, also, and you'll have to speak slowly, but it should make things a bit easier for you around other people." When Kotone remained silent and made no move to take the mask, Hermione's voice became even more anxious and she continued to explain very quickly, "There's a controlled sticking charm on it, too, so that it won't accidentally fall off, and you can remove it whenever you like. I thought about making the painted lips move with your words, but I thought that would be weird, so I enchanted them to mimic your moods instead. The lips will smile or frown, depending on how you feel."
Hermione didn't know how to react when Kotone's eyes teared up again and her face fell into what looked like a ferocious scowl. It was only when the little girl let out a deep sob and coarsely whispered, 'Washi!' that she understood that the girl actually liked what she had done with the mask. Kotone threw her arms around Hermione's neck and began crying anew.
"I a'so sorry, Washi," said Kotone between sobs, "I know you not to rike when cry, but you make very happy…" After getting her tears under control again, she loosened her hold on the older witch, looked into her eyes and said, "You must help Shishi… that is a'why I told to open eyes, to help… I a'so scared for Shishi-san."
"I know you're scared, but do you want to know a secret? I'm scared, too," said Hermione with a faltering smile, "I think I'll need your help in a while with those books of yours, if you're willing… for now, why don't you try on the mask?"
Kotone wiped her tears away with her sleeve, took the mask from Hermione, and with trembling hands, she placed the mask over the lower part of her face. She looked unsure for a few moments, just looking nervously at the floor.
"Well, go on, say something," said Hermione with a patient smile.
"I… I don't know what to say!" came the crystal clear reply. Kotone's eyes widened in surprise, and then crinkled at the corners, showing how happy she was with the sound of her new voice. The tiny red lips that adorned the mask curled into a beaming smile while new tears glistened on her eyelids.
Even Hermione was surprised at the sound of Kotone's voice through the mask. No longer was it deep, grating and coarse, but now rang with a pleasant, mellifluous lilt that only held a trace of an accent. It wasn't high-pitched or squeaky, but a serene alto that seemed to fit the young half-witch perfectly. Hermione grinned broadly at her, obviously pleased with the results.
"So, am I forgiven?" asked Hermione as she stood up. The reply came in the form of Kotone raising her arms to Hermione in the same way she does with Harry. With a smile, Hermione hoisted the young girl onto her hip and allowed her hair and tail to wrap around the various parts of her body.
Kotone sighed against her shoulder, then said in her new voice, "Thank you, Hermione, this means so much to me."
Hermione's smile faded as her thoughts turned to the book that Kotone had insisted she 'understand,' the possibility that she may be a Necromancer, and to Harry, laying two floors above, bound and silenced with a portion of Voldemort's soul possessing him. She took a deep breath and asked the question that she wasn't sure she wanted an answer to.
"Kotone, when you were trying to help Harry, I felt that I could understand what you were trying to do for him, but I knew at the same time that you wouldn't be able to… that magic you were trying to do wasn't suited to you, and I could somehow tell that it was suited to me. Can you tell me why I could tell? What exactly were you trying to do?"
The smiling lips on Kotone's mask instantly fell into a sad frown upon hearing her question. With a small sigh, she sat herself down on one of the dusty chairs and motioned for Hermione to sit next to her. After a long pause, Kotone looked up at the older witch.
"How much of the book do you now understand?"
"Well, I've spent a few days reading it and… and I performed that test that supposedly tells what school of magic a person has an aptitude for…"
"And the test told you…?" prodded Kotone.
"Well…" Hermione balked, "I… at first, it seemed to indicate that I could be a Conjuror, or at the least an Enchantress, but after you said to… well, I opened my eyes last night, and realized what the image that I was seeing actually was. It said that… it…"
Kotone smiled knowingly and said, "I was sure when I first saw you… It said you are destined to be a Priestess, just like my mother."
Hermione's eyes dropped to her hands that were by that time worrying together in her lap as she quietly said, "No, it didn't. According to that test, I'm not a Priestess."
The smug smile on Kotone's mask instantly fell, "Of course you are a Priestess… I can see it in you, you are in tune with your soul, you can touch others' souls in a way that I could never hope to. Did you not sense what was happening with my brother lion?"
For an instant, Hermione didn't understand what a lion had to do with the discussion, but then she smiled as she remembered Kotone's name for Harry… the translation spell on the mask seemed to be working perfectly. She had mentioned before that 'Shishi' stood for 'Lion,' but never really made the connection until then. She had seen that Harry's soul had the form of a lion… and she had seen for herself the snakes that were besieging him. The thought of Harry brought her back to what Kotone had asked.
Yes, I did see his soul, and I heard what you were trying to do. Your inflections were wrong, and your wand movements were too slow. I don't know how I could tell, but I did. I read through the chapter on Priestesses, but I couldn't even perform the simplest of exercises. That's when I decided to do perform the test on myself, but it was inconclusive… When you told me to open my eyes, I saw the complete image for the first time, and there is no doubt…" Hermione's eyes began tearing up as she hesitantly said, "I… well… It appears that I'm best suited to be a Necromancer."
Kotone's brows knitted together concernedly as she listened to Hermione's confession. Several moments passed before the lips on Kotone's mask turned into a wide smile and she said, "A Necromancer? Are you sure?"
Hermione became ruffled at Kotone's apparent amusement of her being supposedly 'attuned' to such a dark field of magic. She was about to let the girl know, in no uncertain terms, that she was not about to begin immersing herself in such an evil endeavor when Kotone jumped to her feet and excitedly, "Wonderful! Where is the book?"
'Wonderful?' thought Hermione incredulously, 'What's so wonderful about being adept at death magic?'
I left it up in the bedroom," she cautiously answered.
Kotone, not noticing the older witch's distress, grabbed her hand and began leading her out of the dining room, "This will not take very long at all! My Brother Lion awaits us!"