Disclaimer: I do not own anything 'Harry Potter.' Just the plot of this story and whatever original characters that I've created. I don't own any of the lyric bits, either.
A/N: Yes! Another update! I'm on fire! Kotone makes her return, and I'm going to torture Hermione some more in this chapter. This is the longest chapter yet, about 7000 words! It's an 'info' chapter, not much action, but a lot of things get explained and revealed, and new questions get introduced. You find out who, or rather 'what' Kotone is, and the nature of Hermione's relationship (what there is of one) with Ron. Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing, hearing your comments and criticism means a lot to me! By the way, her name is pronounced: Ko-Toe-Nee, not Ko-Tone. Enjoy!
Chapter 6: Shishi and Washi
-----~-----
I kinda always knew I'd end up your ex-girlfriend,
I hope I hold a special place with the rest of them,
And you know it makes me sick to be on that list,
But I should have thought of that before we kissed.
You say you're gonna burn before you mellow.
I will be the one to burn you.
Why'd you have to go and pick me?
When you knew that we were different, completely.
-----~-----
Barely fifteen minutes had passed since the rescue teams had left. Molly paced nervously in the front yard of the Burrow, being watched by the equally nervous Ginny, who was seated on the steps to the house. Inside of the house, Poppy Pomfrey stood next a newly conjured bed and was busy setting up the equipment to a small portable potions lab.
A pair of loud cracks sounded through the yard as four people appeared. Hermione immediately collapsed to the grass under Harry's dead weight. Ron stood, with his wand in hand, next to Mr. Granger, who dropped to the ground panting from the suffocating sensation that came along with apparation. Molly looked at the man cautiously, nervously pointing her wand at him before recognizing him as Hermione's father. A look of relief washed over her, but was quickly replaced by dismay. She froze as her gaze fell on the unconscious boy in the arms of the struggling Hermione.
Ginny was racing across the yard towards Harry with a terrified expression. "Mum, don't just stand there! Help him already!"
Molly shook her self out of her shock and flicked her wand towards Harry, causing him to float a few feet above the ground. "Hurry! Poppy has a bed waiting."
As soon as the weight was lifted off of her, Hermione pulled a galleon out of her pocket, similar to the ones she created for the DA, and tapped it with her wand, signaling to the rest of the team that Harry was safely back at the Burrow.
Molly led the small procession into the house, Hermione and Ron guided the floating Harry, followed by the terrified Ginny and the confused Mr. Granger.
Moments later, Harry was in the bed and Madam Pomfrey was pushing everyone else from the room. Mr. Granger, Ron, Molly and Ginny were seated at the kitchen table while Hermione slowly paced the floor, looking lost. Molly sniffed quietly, dabbing at her eyes occasionally with a conjured hanky while Ron and Ginny sat quietly.
Mr. Granger was carefully analyzing his pacing daughter. He had never seen her quite so anxious or upset, or so thin. She looked much more tired than her normal hyper-active self, and he was concerned with her sallow complexion and the dark circles under her eyes.
Mr. Granger broke the anxious silence by asking, "I assume that boy is one of your people?" His question was out of curiosity, and had none of the bite that the same question from Vernon Dursley would carry.
"Yes," Hermione answered as she continued her pacing, "His name is Harry Potter, a friend of mine from school I'm sure I've mentioned him in my letters home."
He nodded, "Ah, yes… I see." He continued to watch his daughter.
"Dad, what were you doing at the hospital? You said something about his teeth?"
"I was called there to fix that boy's front teeth. It appears that he broke them a while ago, and every time he'd have one of his 'fits,' he'd cut his mouth and tongue on the sharp fragments. That boy's in bad shape, isn't he?"
Hermione stopped her pacing, remembering his shattered glasses and the broken tooth that rested in the dried puddle of blood in the room at the Leaky Cauldron. She looked at her father and her expression became unreadable as his full response to her question finally broke through her clouded mind, "Fits? What do you mean?"
"From what the nurses at the hospital told me, it appears that every few days he would have some sort of violent seizure, and he starts screaming out a name, sounding as though he was being frightened to death, sounding as if he's seeing something horrible happening. Always the same name. From what I'm told, it's quite disturbing to witness." He carefully studied her face and noted the slight trace of fear that surfaced.
Ginny sat perfectly still and wore a neutral expression as she listened. Inside, however, she wore a brilliant grin. 'It's working again! He still loves me!' she thought to herself.
There was a silent pause. Hermione began her trek across the floor once again, her eyes cast downward.
"Hermione…" said Mr. Granger.
"Yes, dad?" she answered as she paced.
"No," he said with his eyes dancing as they met hers fully, "That's the name that he screams, the name, 'Hermione.' It's not a very common name, is it? Unless you're fond of Shakespeare, like your mother is..."
Hermione stopped pacing and her eyes grew wide.
-----~-----
All of the Order members felt the coins in their pockets grow hot, indicating the success of the mission. Once they saw the ministry officials arrive, they disapparated back to the Burrow, leaving the aurors and obliviators to clean up the mess that was St Thomas' Hospital. The ministry had their work cut out for them.
Fortunately, there were only a few relatively minor injuries. Remus Lupin's arm was bleeding, having received a glancing hit from a reductor, and Arthur Weasley was still feeling the disorienting after-effects of a stunner he took to the back. The rest of the second team, though slightly shaken, returned unharmed. The third team, Fred and George, remained hidden back at the hospital, collecting information about the aftermath of the operation.
Charlie and Moody rushed ahead to inform Madam Pomfrey of the injured Lupin. Charlie opened the door to the house in time to see a furious Ginny fly across the kitchen and slap a stunned Hermione across the face. "I knew it! You're the reason he broke up with me, you just couldn't stand seeing him happy, could you!" Ginny then disappeared up the stairs to the bedrooms. Ron and Molly were seated at the table, both frowning and staring suspiciously at Hermione. Another man that he didn't recognize was also at the table, obviously a muggle who was also looking at Hermione with a curious expression.
"What's all this, then?"
"It seems that my daughter has a boyfriend in that young Mr. Potter in there..." said Mr. Granger softly, his eyes never leaving his daughter.
Everyone in the room was looking expectantly at Hermione, except for Moody, who kept his magical eye on the muggle seated at the table. Hermione knew exactly what they all were thinking. What other reason could Harry have for calling out her name? At that point, she wanted nothing more than to run from the house, apparate back to her own bedroom and cry for a week. The only thing stopping her was the concern she had about Harry's condition.
"I don't know why…" she could feel heat from embarrassment flush her face and the tears that were threatening to burst from her, "He's not my boyfriend! I mean, there's nothing going on between Harry and… Oh, how could you think that?"
Tonks was helping Lupin into the doorway. They halted when they saw the mix of puzzled and angry stares directed at Hermione.
"Wotcher, what's happened?" Tonks saw the uncomfortable glares that Hermione was receiving, and though she didn't know exactly what was going on, she figured she had better draw some attention away.
Tonks asked, "'Ow's Harry?" No one answered. She glanced at Charlie while struggling with the groggy Lupin, "Come on, a hand here would be nice."
Charlie carefully took Lupin's injured arm and helped Tonks direct him into the other room where Poppy was attending to Harry. Molly fixed her eyes straight ahead of her as she stood and silently walked across the room and followed Ginny's path up the stairs.
They all heard the door open to the living room where Harry and Poppy were, then heard a collective "Bloody Hell!" from Charlie, Tonks and Lupin.
Hearing their reaction to seeing Harry was all that was all it took for Hermione, it was the last straw, the dam had burst. The adrenaline that had pumped through her during the battle had long worn off, leaving her feeling drained. The combination of the embarrassment caused by none other than her own father, the fear and guilt she felt when she first saw Harry in that condition and hearing the shock in the voices of the others had finally cracked the shield that she had desperately placed over her emotions. She sank to her knees, hid her face in her hands, and softly cried.
"I'll make some tea," said Arthur as he made his way to the stove, "I know I could certainly use some."
Ron was watching Hermione as she cried on the floor. "Is it true?" he asked coolly.
"What do you mean, 'Is it true?'" said Hermione furiously, "Why would you even care if it was?"
"Well, I'd like to know if my girlfriend was snogging my sister's boyfriend behind my back…"
"Last thing I heard was that Harry and Ginny broke up… and when was I ever your girlfriend?" yelled Hermione, "You didn't seem to care who was snogging who when you had your tongue wedged down that Delacour girl's throat last night at the reception, did you? It looked to me like you got further with Gabrielle than you ever got with me! It didn't even seem to bother you that the girl's only fourteen!"
"You know I didn't mean that!" defended Ron as all the color drained from his face, "She snuck up on me and I got hit with that… that veela thing they do! I didn't expect it! It wasn't my fault!"
Hermione looked at him incredulously, "Oh? So whenever your sister-in-law drops by for a visit, everyone's supposed to turn their heads and smile while you snog her brains out? You expect people to pass the salt over your humping arse while you work in a good shag on the kitchen table?"
"Look, I'm sorry, all right? I couldn't help it! You know what they're like!" said Ron quietly, with a flicker of fear appearing in his voice, "It won't happen again."
"I don't care if it happens again or not, it has nothing to do with me." Hermione said icily.
Ron's face fell, "So that's it? You're breaking up with me over a mistake? I said I was sorry…"
"That was one hell of a mistake, Ronald, and there's nothing to break up. I was never your girlfriend," Hermione then turned to her father and continued, "and I've never been Harry's girlfriend, either, regardless of what The Daily Prophet ever said." She looked around the table, "And you can tell that to Ginny, too… although I doubt she'll listen to it, never mind believe it."
Silence fell over the room and everyone's gaze had long since drifted to various locations around the room, with the exception of Mr. Granger, who continued to study his daughter. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey's appearance from the other room. Hermione closed her eyes and held her breath as she listened from her position on the floor.
"Mr. Lupin needs to rest up a bit, but he is going to be fine," she announced, "however, Mr. Potter, well… there's really nothing I can do for him here, or even at Hogwarts. He needs to go to St. Mungo's immediately."
"Can you tell us what's wrong with him?" asked Arthur, setting down his tea.
"There's nothing wrong with him that I can tell, aside from being nearly dead. There is no trace of spell damage, poison or disease. I repaired the broken nose and his teeth, and he's a bit malnourished, but I can't seem to find anything else wrong with him at all."
"Madam Pomfrey," said Hermione tenuously, "You may want to try the Ahmatari Charm, it's what the auror used on him on the train."
Madam Pomfrey eyed her suspiciously, "You know what's wrong with him? You've seen Harry in this condition before?"
Hermione and Ron briefly explained what transpired during the trip home from Hogwarts to the group of stunned adults. Poppy cast the charm, but the effects seemed negligible.
"It was worth trying," said Madam Pomfrey, "I'll make the arrangements to get him moved to St. Mungo's as discreetly as possible. Arthur, if you could accompany me?"
Mr. Weasley nodded and followed Madam Pomfrey into the other room.
Hermione knew better than to insist that she go along, and she needed time, not only to sort her own problems out, but also to get some desperately needed sleep. Harry might not be 'fine,' but at least he was alive and she knew where he was. Hopefully, she could visit him the next morning. She stood and walked up to her father, "I think I should get you home now, dad."
"I'll need to get my car from St Thomas'…"
"It's too dangerous there right now… mum can bring you tomorrow, can't she?"
"Yes, I suppose she can." he answered while allowing Hermione to lead him out of the house, "That teleportation thing you do is rather unpleasant, did you know that?"
She gave her father half of a smile and nodded, "It's not so bad once you get used to it."
That night, like most nights, Hermione got very little sleep. Her thoughts kept drifting back, not just to the day's events, nor to the happenings of the past month, but also to the past several years of her life, more specifically, to her relationship to her two best friends. She was so used to being right. She was so used to having all the answers right when they were needed. How could her personal life have turned out so poorly… so twisted? How could she have been so wrong about so many things?
She was initially so sure that Ron had fancied her and, judging by the types of girls that Harry apparently fancied, he could never have feelings about someone as dismally plain, as painfully boring as she was. As it turned out, Ron clearly wanted someone more physical, more willing, and Harry… well, she wasn't quite sure what Harry wanted, but she would have never imagined it was her. Cho was beautiful, there was no denying that, as was Ginny. Both were carefree, athletic, popular, outgoing and fun to be with... everything that she was not. How could Harry ever 'love' her? As much as she hated to admit it, there was absolutely nothing 'fun' about being around her. She wasn't pretty, popular nor outgoing. Was this her problem all along? Was this why everyone she had ever met considered her a 'nightmare?' Was she really an 'insufferable know-it-all?'
Would things really be different if she had spent more time on her appearance and less time submerged in her books? Would life be so different if she had acted more breezy and blithe? Yes, things would have turned out differently… she wouldn't have been needed. Without her brains, her cleverness, she probably wouldn't have been so lonely as a child, she would probably have lots of friends, but she certainly wouldn't be Harry's friend. He wouldn't need another fan of his celebrity staring at him in the great hall. He wouldn't need yet another girl smiling at him hopefully in the hallways between classes, trying to get noticed. He wouldn't need her, and now, if all she could get from Harry was being needed for her cleverness, then at least she was needed for something.
Still… he did say he loved her, didn't he?
-----~-----
There was little change in Harry's condition over the next two weeks. He had been placed in the Spell Damage ward on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's, even though they had yet to find spell damage, or any other kind of damage at all. He remained unconscious and unresponsive to any treatment that they administered. Ron and Hermione were at the hospital every day, only returning to their respective homes occasionally to clean themselves up and to catch some sleep.
Ron and Hermione sat across from each other in a booth in the tearoom on the fifth floor of the hospital. Hermione was quietly staring at the sandwich lying in front of her while Ron perused the copy of The Daily Prophet as Fred Weasley entered the room and sat down next to his brother.
"I've just been to see him," said Fred sullenly, "still no change."
"Yeah, we know," said Ron, "I hope they find out something soon. They're still sending for healers from all over, I hear there's one coming from Australia, and another from Brazil."
"That healer from Greece wasn't much help, was he?" asked Fred.
"No, he wasn't…" answered Ron, "They practically threw him out of the hospital after only an hour, didn't they?"
Fred was watching Hermione stare at the sandwich that Ron was eyeing furtively. He still wasn't used to seeing her like this. She was withdrawn and dour, and nearly always wore a wintry expression. He couldn't remember the last time he saw her genuinely smile.
He worked his best 'Weasley Twins' smile and said to her, "Hermione, you'd best eat that soon or our ickle Ronniekins will likely do a face-plant on your plate."
His smile faltered as Hermione, without looking up, slowly slid the plate across the table so that it sat right in front of Ron. Fred was about to tear into Ron as his hand reached for the plate, but then he noticed the hurt look on his brother's face as Ron slid the plate back to her.
"Please, Hermione," said Ron, "You've got to eat."
"I'm not really hungry, Ron."
"Every day we go through the same thing," said Ron, starting to sound cross, "Look at you, Hermione. You've barely eaten for weeks now. Do you really think Harry would want you to starve yourself over him?"
Hermione said nothing, she just continued to glom at her plate.
"What's going on, Hermione?" asked Fred in uncharacteristic seriousness, "This is more than just worry. What are you thinking? What's wrong?"
"You wouldn't understand." Replied Hermione icily.
"Give us a try." Said Fred, sounding genuinely sympathetic.
Hermione sighed. "I saw it all last year. Harry had his 'Prince' book, and he had Ginny. He didn't need me to help him with his school work. He didn't need my friendship to make him happy. He didn't need me! I realized that the only reason I was his friend was that he relied on me so much in the previous years. I was always there to help him, whether it was getting through to the Sorcerer's Stone, finding out what he was up against in the Chamber or making sure he was prepared for those bloody tasks during the tournament, I was always able to help him. I was always willing to help him, but not last year. Last year I was so convinced he didn't need me anymore, that I let him drift away. I found myself almost constantly annoyed at him. I refused to believe him about Snape and Malfoy, and I was so jealous of Ginny and that blasted book coming in between our friendship. I was so scared that he'd never need me again, that he'd never… That he wouldn't want…" She turned away and quickly wiped the wetness that was forming in her eyes, and then said in a small voice, "He was the first friend I ever had in my life. My very first and best friend. How could I treat him like that? What came over me?"
She once again felt the lump rise in her throat, as it was prone to do so often during the past month.
"So here's my chance to help him. He needs me now, but I can't for the life of me figure out what to do. He finally needs me again and here I am, sitting here staring at a sandwich when I should be out doing something, but I have no idea where to begin! If someone cursed him, I'd at least know where to start looking. If I only had a clue, any scrap of information that could point me in the right direction. I lie awake at night thinking about it, or sitting at my desk searching through my books, going over everything that I know, but nothing comes to me. If all the brightest healers from around the world have no idea what's wrong with him, what chance do I have of finding anything? I just feel so lost… so useless!"
She glanced at the two brothers looking back at her sympathetically, then glumly said, "Pitiful, aren't I?" Her shoulders slumped in defeat and she resumed glowering morosely at her sandwich.
"Hermione, you've got to snap out of this," Said Ron, "We have to keep positive. You know Harry can't die because of this."
"Oh, and how do I know that?" asked Hermione, not looking up from her plate.
"You know, the prophesy…" As Ron spoke, Hermione's head snapped up wearing a horrified expression, "'one must die at the hand of the…' OW!"
Hermione had kicked Ron under the table. Not as hard as she wanted, but hard enough so that he instinctively grabbed at his leg and promptly rapped his chin on the tabletop.
"Ronald, you can be so daft at times," she hissed while glaring at him for only a moment, then upon seeing his pained look change to that of realization at what he was about to say in front of Fred, she gave a small smile, the first genuine smile she wore in a very long time. The smile was short lived as Fred caught on to what happened.
"What prophesy?" said Fred incredulously, "The one from the ministry? You two know what it is, and it's about Harry dying?"
"Fred, forget what you think you've heard," warned Hermione, in almost a pleading voice, "you have got the wrong idea. We know you're a fully fledged member of the Order now, but you have no idea how important it is not to have more rumors about Harry spread around."
Fred considered her words for a moment, thinking about how much he respected Harry and how much both George and himself owed him, and not in just the monetary sense. He simply nodded and rose from his seat, "Right, then, I need to get back to the shop. Try not to dwell on things you can't control, Hermione, I'm sure he'll be fine."
As Fred was leaving, a pair of boys entered the tearoom, one of whom Hermione recognized at once, as he was a student at Hogwarts. Barnabas Windon noticed the two familiar faces and gave a small wave. Both boys looked terribly troubled as they moved to sit in a nearby booth. Hermione, seeing the despondent look on both of their faces, waved them over and asked if they'd like to join. She thought that maybe by cheering someone else up she could help her own dismal mood. Though unsure at first, they reluctantly agreed.
"Hello, Barnabas," said Hermione, trying to sound as cheerful as she could muster, "Ron, this is Barnabas Windon, he's also a student at Hogwarts."
"Hello, Barnabas," said Ron, "who's your friend here?"
Barnabas, who looked as though he would rather be anywhere else than sitting with two soon-to-be seventh years, and especially these particular seventh years, answered nervously, "This is Albert Abernathy, he'll be going to Hogwarts in a few years."
"Hello, Albert, I'm…"
"Hermione Granger..." finished Albert breathily, his eyes wide with wonder. He turned to Ron and continued, "…and you're Ronald Weasley! You're famous, everyone knows who you two are!"
Ron grinned broadly at hearing Albert, causing Hermione to roll her eyes. Ron ignored her and said, "Why are you here, visiting someone?"
The two young boys looked at each other and their faces dropped, "Well, yes," said Barnabas sadly, "Our friend Kotone is here. We're really worried about her."
"Kotone?" asked Hermione, "The girl we saw at King's Cross Station?"
"Yes, she's really sick. She's been here a long time and she's not getting better. They won't tell us, but we think she's going to die." Albert just nodded.
"What happened to her?" asked Ron.
"Nobody knows. We tried to wake her up one morning, but she wouldn't. She was whiter than she usually is and really cold when I touched her. They brought her here about a month ago and they say she's not getting better." Barnabas thought for a minute, and then hesitantly asked, "You're both friends of Harry Potter… Do you think you could…" He paused while he looked down at his fidgeting hands before continuing very quickly in seemingly one long, unbroken stream of words, "do you think you could ask Harry to visit her? She never gets any visitors at all, except for us, and she likes him a whole lot, and I'm sure she'd get better if he would visit and she thinks about him all the time and if he's not too busy she'd really love it and…"
He was forced to stop talking only due to his running out of breath. He inhaled deeply, looking as though he were ready to continue his babbling, but instead looked hopefully between Hermione and Ron and waited anxiously for one of them to speak.
The lump returned to Hermione's throat. "I'm really sorry, but Harry can't right now. Maybe if we go to see her?" she asked indicating Ron and herself.
His expression became apprehensive. "I… I don't think that would be a good idea. She's really shy about her appearance, and she's not covered like she normally is."
"Well, what's wrong with the way she looks?" asked Ron, "I mean, it can't be that bad…"
"She's not a 'normal' girl," said Barnabas, "she's… well…" He sighed in frustration, trying to find the right words, "I think it's best if Miss Melanie, she's our administrator, explains it, I really don't understand it myself, but people get really scared when they see Kotone, and it upsets her when they do, but it's nor fair because she's a really sweet girl. Everyone at the orphanage loves her."
"She's an orphan?" asked Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes and gave him an exasperated look.
"Well, yes, and so are Albert and I. It's not something we like to brag about, you understand…"
Hermione gave him a kind smile and said, "Well, let's go have a word with Miss Melanie."
A few minutes later they found themselves in the children's ward of St. Mungo's Hospital, a small area set aside on the first floor. It was painted in bright primary colors and the walls were decorated with cute, childishly animated mythical creatures. Pegasi were flying carefree among the rafters high on the ceiling, and friendly-looking baby chimeras, harpitoads and frumishers danced along the walls and played 'hide-and-go-seek' and 'peek-a-boo' with the giggling children seated in the reception lobby.
Sitting quietly in a small conversation nook was the stern-looking administrator of Haversham's Wizard Orphanage, Miss Melanie. Hermione immediately recognized this same old woman from platform nine-and-three-quarters at King's Cross Station. The group followed Barnabas into the nook, and after a brief introduction, all were seated comfortably.
"Miss Melanie," Barnabas began, "I was wondering if you could tell them about Kotone. They'd asked to visit her, but from past experience… well, I think you could explain about her better than I could."
"I see…," said Miss Melanie, with an appraising look at Ron and Hermione, "We'll have to ask her if she wants visitors, but she's going to have to get used to being exposed to other people if she's going to Hogwarts this fall." Then, as an afterthought, she mentioned, "She's going to have to learn not to be ashamed of her voice, either. In any case, before you see her, there are a few things you need to know about her."
Ron and Hermione sat quietly and nodded in understanding.
Miss Melanie began, "Kotone came to us three years ago. She and her parents came from Japan to attend the Quidditch World Cup. Her parents were killed in the Death Eater attack there. I know that it was reported that there were no deaths, but I suppose the minister at the time didn't think it was worth the negative publicity. She had no other relatives that could, or rather that would, take her.
Both Ron and Hermione looked at each other and immediately thought about the similarities between Harry and Kotone.
Miss Melanie continued, "We found that the reason that none of her living relatives wanted to take her was..." She paused. She had told this story so many times before, and each time she was met with nearly identical responses, fear and loathing. That was the usual the reaction. "…that she leads a cursed life… she is a half-demon."
She paused again, gauging the reaction of the two teenagers. Surprised that neither one had any noticeable involuntary response, she continued, "Have either of you ever heard of the 'Oni'?"
Ron and Hermione blankly glanced at each other, "No, we haven't." came Hermione's simple reply.
"Well, that's not surprising… According to Japanese mythology, the 'Oni' were demons that hunted humans, specifically evil humans. It was believed by many that these demons saw 'evil' in all people, so they were feared and hated by everyone. In truth, they were dark wizard hunters, and were often employed by wealthy wizards to protect their families and possessions. While mostly benevolent, many of the Oni demanded extreme payment for their 'services.' Kotone is a product of one such payment. Several hundred years ago, her ancestor contracted an Oni to defend his castle from the threat of another wizard. In payment, he demanded the last-born child of his family to be conceived by the demon. What her ancestor didn't realize at the time, was that the demon meant that every last-born child in his family was to be conceived by him. The reason that the child would always be the last-born, is because the mother would become sterile after the birth. The demon honored his contract, and the payment was reluctantly made. Kotone is the last-born child of that family's line, so she is a half-Oni… a half-demon."
"So, what does that have to do with the way she looks?" asked Ron, in a rare display of interest.
"Let's just say that the pure Oni aren't very pleasant to look at. If she allows you to visit with her, you might see for yourself, but I'd assume she would want to wear her mask."
Hermione, knowing Ron's aptitude for tact, suggested that she alone should visit with Kotone. Barnabas left the nook to see if Kotone would allow a visit, and came back moments later to escort Hermione to her room.
"I've already put her mask on for her," explained Barnabas as they entered the room, "To 'speak' to her you must look into her eyes. I'll be right here if you need me."
The room was typical of most of the patient rooms in St. Mungo's. The bare walls and floor, the comfortable white light flooding the room, and the crisp white linens on the bed gave the room an antiseptic feel. Kotone was lying on the bed, the sheets pulled up to her neck. She had a pure white porcelain half-mask covered the lower portion of her face, obscuring her mouth and nose. Painted on the mask were small, red lips and a hint of pink blush. The white of the porcelain nearly matched the complexion of the tiny girl.
The first thing that attracted Hermione's attention was Kotone's hair. The first time she had seen the girl at King's Cross Station, her hair was hidden beneath the hood of her cloak. Hermione was quite surprised to see that its color was a stark white, almost glowing, like the hair of an adult unicorn. The color wasn't the most interesting thing about her hair. What had really caught Hermione's attention was that the girl's hair was moving. It swayed and flowed gently across the pillow as if it were being blown by a soft but turbulent breeze, moving as if each strand had a life of its own. A pair of small, golden horns peeked through her hair just above her forehead. The girl's pale white ears were quite large and pointed at the top, similar in shape to those of a house elf. Hermione then noticed the girl's cat-like eyes. They were a breathtaking, amethyst-like shade of violet, wide open and staring at the ceiling. Kotone seemed to radiate a strange sort of beauty, much in the same way the veela seemed to do with only men.
"Merlin, she… she's beautiful!" Hermione whispered absently.
Barnabas chuckled under his breath and quietly said, "You haven't seen her without the mask, or when she's angry."
Hermione stood in the doorway transfixed, wondering how anyone could be afraid of this tiny girl.
Hermione mentally shook herself out of her daze and said, "Kotone, I'm a friend of Harry Potter, do you remember me?"
"You need to look directly into her eyes," said Barnabas, "she won't… well, 'talk' to you otherwise, she can talk, but she rarely does… it frightens people…"
Hermione cautiously approached the bed and spoke, "Kotone?"
Kotone's eyes were locked straight ahead of her, fixed on the ceiling. Hermione leaned over the girl's bed, and the moment her eyes came in line with Kotone's, a strange sensation overcame her, as if the scope of her vision narrowed onto the girl's eyes alone and the rest of the room faded into darkness.
An airy, melodic voice drifted through her consciousness, speaking in Japanese, but the words echoed in English through her mind, "I know of you. You are Kawauso, the mate of Ojika. You are Ii-guru, he is Shishi." The voice sounded very weak.
Hermione heard the word 'Shishi' and could only associate it with the nickname that Lavender Brown had used for Ron in their sixth year, 'Won Won.' She really didn't know how to respond, not quite understanding what the girl was trying to say. The term 'mate' wasn't lost on her, though.
"Your friend, Barnabas, asked about having Harry Potter visit you, but he's…"
"Yes, I know of Ojika, I am with him. I am protecting him, holding his soul in place. He awaits the Kawauso, the Washi. I am tired, I can not keep him safe any longer." The fatigue, the exhaustion of her efforts shone through the look in Kotone's eyes. Hermione could see the desperation.
"I don't understand," said Hermione, "when you say Ojika, do you mean Harry?"
"Yes, Shishi, the lion, Ojika, the stag." Replied Kotone, "He awaits Kawauso."
"Who is Kawauso? What can he do?"
Kotone's eyes told of the difficulty she was having in translating the words she meant to convey, "You are the Kawauso, you are his Washi… The Otter, his Eagle. I beg of you, please to hurry, my power fades… He needs Kawauso… Hurry!"
With a deep, guttural groan, the small girl lapsed into unconsciousness. Her eyes closed and her head turned feebly on her pillow causing the porcelain mask to slide slightly off her lower face, revealing a portion of her cheek and jaw.
Hermione staggered back from the bed as the connection with the girl's eyes was broken. For a moment, she stared blankly at Kotone, stunned by the difference a small mask could make in someone's appearance. The small girl's mouth had thick, blood red lips that stretched across her jaw nearly reaching the bottom tip of her pointed ears. Along the bottom of her wide, squared chin protruded another pair of tiny golden horns, much like the ones that peeked through the hair on her head. A set of glistening black fangs jutted from between her lips, the top pair extended to just below her jaw line, and the bottom pair reached up and seemed to rest on either side of her tiny, turned-up nose. All of the newly revealed features drastically changed how an observer might perceive her eyes.
Now Hermione could understand why people would be very afraid of this little girl. As understanding and compassionate as Hermione was, she couldn't help letting out a gasp as she finally saw what the small 'girl' actually looked like.
Barnabas, upon seeing Kotone's mask slip, rushed to the bedside and nervously fumbled with it before repositioning it back onto her face. He then started stammering, "S-sorry, Miss Granger, I hope she didn't f-f-frighten you, I… I understand how, I mean…"
Hermione silently took a deep calming breath through her nose, desperately trying not to look shaken, before she turned to Barnabas with a serious expression, "Barnabas, exactly how long has she been here?"
"As I told you before, it's been almost a month and…"
Hermione wasn't listening to the rest of his explanation, being caught up in her own thoughts, 'That's about as long as Harry's been in the coma… Kawauso…? Otter…?' she thought to herself.
A flicker of comprehension lit in her suddenly wide eyes, 'He needs Kawauso? My patronus?'
Hermione sprinted from the room, through the hallway of the children's ward and out into the visitor's lobby. She saw Ron still seated in the nook, chatting with Albert and Miss Melanie.
"Ron! We need to get to Harry, NOW!"
Ron made a hasty good-bye and raced out of the ward after Hermione. Several minutes later, they dashed by the surprised Tonks, who was guarding Harry's door, and burst into his room. The scene that they met made them stop in their tracks.
A piercing scream assaulted Hermione's ears the moment the door had opened. She had heard about the 'fits' that plagued Harry from time to time, but had never witnessed one… until just then. A healer was lying on top of Harry, trying to keep him from throwing himself from the bed. His eyes were open, wide with abject horror, and he was thrashing and kicking violently while mostly unintelligible wails poured from his mouth.
The healer looked at the group helplessly as she fought to keep Harry on the bed, "I've never seen him this bad! Never! He just started a few minutes ago!"
Suddenly, his body became tensed and still and his face contorted into what could not be confused with anything but despair. In a hoarse, choked voice, he uttered a defeated cry… just one word… "Hermione…"
The sweaty and visibly shaken healer who was overseeing Harry's care stood from the bed and started to scold them on their rude entrance, but upon seeing the menacing glare from Hermione, quickly went silent.
'Happy memory… happy thought…'
With all the misery in her recent life, she was having a problem coming up with a decent memory. Back in the days of the DA, she used the memory of herself at the Yule Ball during their fourth year. The way everyone gawked at her, the unbelieving stares that came her way from everyone that knew her. The way Harry had looked at her as she walked down the stairs in the entrance hall.
She found earlier in the year that that particular memory didn't work for her anymore. All her effort the night of the Yule Ball, as it turned out, didn't achieve the expected result. That memory wasn't quite as happy as it once was, in fact, it wasn't happy now at all. She needed a new one, a stronger one.
Tonks hissed through gritted teeth at Hermione, trying hard not to yell, "What do you think you're doing? You just can't barge into the room like this!" Tonks' eyes narrowed as she studied the pair, and then softened. She was quite sure they were the real Ron and Hermione, especially after seeing the same sad, worried expression that Hermione took to wearing recently.
Hermione ignored the buzzing in her ears that was Tonks' reprimand, she was too busy organizing her memories. When was the last time she had a happy thought? When was the last time she felt a thrill run through her? When was the last time she felt her heart race from anything other than fear or panic?
'But... but I have to care because I... I... lo... I love…'
Just the memory of those words that were whispered in her ear, the hidden promise that they held lit a fire in her soul.
Everyone in the room gasped as Hermione drew her wand and pointed it at Harry's chest.
'Please let this work…'
Before anyone could make a move to stop her, Hermione yelled in a clear, confident voice, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
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A/N: Is the story moving too fast? Too slow? Too confusing? Should I give up, toss my computer and take up knitting hats? Leave a review and let me know! Good or bad, criticism helps! I'm not going to throw in a lot of ethnic terminology, in other words, I'm not going to turn this story into a Japanese language lesson. Kotone can speak, (with actual words but she'll refuse to for a while yet, you'll find out why.) but she's not very fluent in English, even with her style of Legilimens.
Shishi = Male Lion
Washi = Eagle
Ii-guru = generic phrase for 'Bird of Prey'
Kawauso = Otter
Ojika = Stag, Male Deer, Buck