Story Title: Time, Interrupted
Chapter Title: Agreements
Author: Madm_05
Rating: Strong PG-13/T
Warnings: Fluff alert, not so much fluff alert
Chapter Word Count: 5,798
Date: 1 August 2006
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everyone else from Potterverse belong to JKR.
Chapter Twelve: Agreements
"Every thing is going well," Sirius said, a large grin on his face during dinner that night. The ragtag group where eating a gourmet meal of soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. It was the first meal Remus had made without burning. Tonks was conspicuously absent. She had left just before dinner, sharing a conspiratorial glance with Sirius and Remus before heading off to visit with her parents.
"Now the way I figure it, we'll need another house - elf to help with all of the work around here, as Kreacher won't do anything but cry over mother's bloomers. I should probably get rid of him, but I can't risk him blabbing anything he knows. I have a sneaking suspicion that he was the one that told Lucius about Hermione." He took a drink from is cup. He gave Hermione a thoughtful look. "You know, since you can take anything you want from the Malfoys, maybe you should take one or two of the house - elves."
"I thought you had to be a Master of a household to have a house - elf." Hermione said, her confusion clear.
Remus nodded. "Usually that's the case, but this is part of your payment, if you choose to take them, from the Iniuriosus Act of 1102, so it's okay."
Hermione opened her mouth to argue that house - elves should be free, should receive a salary and have vacation days, but closed it. That's not a bad idea. If I take them, then I'll know they won't be sold to some horrible owner. She frowned. Maybe they'll let me free them. No, that won't work, I tried that. Maybe I'll be able to get them to wear uniforms then, instead of rags. One step at a time, Granger.
"Hermione?" Her head snapped up as Remus called her name, concerned. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Papa Remus, I was just thinking." She turned to Sirius. "I might do that, take the house - elves I mean."
"So, how was the book hunting expedition today?" Sirius asked.
Remus sighed dramatically. "Hermione is now the proud owner of no less than one hundred and thirty four new books." He gave Sirius a look. "And we have to go back again tomorrow to go through the other half of the library."
Sirius chuckled merrily. "What kind of books did you pick out, Hermione?"
Hermione flushed. "Oh, I just picked some books that looked interesting."
"Some of those interesting books happened to be on advanced Arithmancy, Occlumency, advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts, and several very rare tomes that were thought to be lost." He snorted. "One of those books is worth more than most hard working wizards annual salaries."
"And the paintings," Harry added quietly.
"Ah yes, the paintings." Remus turned to Sirius, his eyes twinkling. "I don't suppose you've realized your dear mother hasn't been screeching at us? Hermione here thought of a brilliant idea while we were at Malfoy Manor. While we were there, Hermione found this painting of your mother's… I think it was her cousin. Well, Hermione asked if she could have that too, though I couldn't imagine why she would want something like that.
"Well, when we got the painting home, Hermione had me hang it up next to your mother's portrait. Well, your mother took the bait and went right over and struck up a conversation about pureblood superiority. Those two old biddies have been chatting up a storm completely oblivious to the rest of us." He grinned.
Sirius smiled in return. "What happens when they realize we're still around?"
"I think she was lonely," Hermione said quietly. "I think she just wanted someone to talk with, so I brought her someone so that she can."
"Only you, Hermione, would care about the feelings of a portrait," Sirius grinned good naturedly, taking the bite out of his words. Hermione smiled sheepishly. "You said paintings, meaning more than one. What else did you choose to bring home with you?"
"Just some pictures." Hermione replied casually. "There were some lovely landscapes. There is a beautiful one of a waterfall."
"Painted by Antoine Demitri," Remus smiled. "The wizarding equivalent of Leonardo da Vinci. I have to admit though, Hermione has good taste, and a good eye for things like that." He winked at the young girl. "Most kids would have gone straight for the toys, but not our Hermione. Nope, she went straight for the books," he laughed good naturedly.
"There is nothing wrong with books," Hermione defended herself.
Remus laughed heartily. "We never said there was anything wrong with it, Hermione. Personally, I think it's wonderful that you want to read as much as you do. Many kids don't like reading at all, and they miss out on some wonderful things." He leaned towards her. "Just don't forget that books are not the only companions you have."
Hermione couldn't help but smile as she nodded and turned back to her dinner. It was nice to have someone remind her every now and then that there was a world beyond books. Normally, it would be Harry or Ron who would tell her to take a breath of fresh air, but she hardly knew Ron in this timeline, and Harry spent most of his time trying to come to terms with having killed a man.
Once dinner was cleared, Sirius and Remus shared a look before Remus cleared his throat nervously. "Well you two, Sirius and I have something we would like to discuss with you," he began, his voice trembling slightly. He opened and closed his mouth several times as if searching for words.
"We would like to adopt you two," Sirius said calmly. "What I mean is, I would like to adopt you Harry, and Remus would like to adopt you and Harmony, Hermione. We want to make sure no one can take you away from us ever again, and we want to be your family, if you'll have us."
Remus swallowed thickly. "I understand perfectly if you don't want to," he said to Hermione. "But I thought you might like it. I mean, I know I'm not your father and that I will never replace him," he said softly. "I'm not trying to replace him. But if you would like, I want to--"
"Yes," Hermione interrupted. "I'd like that." She felt a trill of excitement go through her. Family. It had seemed like ages since she had felt like she was part of a family, and this was a step in that direction. She would have a father figure, and at the rate Harmony was charming Tonks and Remus, she would have a mother figure in her life too.
"Ooooo," Harmony cooed happily as her slobber dribbled down her chin.
"Same goes for me, Little Prongs," Sirius said to Harry. "I'm not James, but I made a promise when I became your godfather that I would look out for you as if you were my own son, and I intend to do just that. I couldn't do that before, but I want to now. We want you two to know that we'll take care of you whether you want us to adopt you or not, we just wanted to give you the choice."
"Yes," Harry said, his quiet voice awed. He began to nod, slowly at first then vigorously. "Yes," he said more firmly. "I'd like that too!" His eyes lit up like it was Christmas for the first time in days. He broke out into a grin as he caught Hermione's eye, his excitement shining on his face. She couldn't help but smile in return.
"Wonderful!" Sirius clapped. "See Moony? I told you there was nothing to worry about," he said softly to his friend, but Hermione could hear the relief in his voice. He turned back to the kids. "This calls for a celebratory dessert!" He stood and walked to the counter, a bounce in his step, and pulled a dish towel off of some treat hidden in the corner. He returned to the table to reveal a pumpkin pie.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance and eyed the pie warily. The last time Sirius had made dessert, they had all been violently ill afterwards. Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, I did it right, honestly."
Hermione smirked. "How many tries did it take you to get it right?"
"Three," he admitted sheepishly. "The first time I forgot the eggs," he made a face. "That was a disaster. The second time it was fine, but Dora took it out of the oven and tripped, so the whole thing ended up all over the floor. But this," he pointed proudly at the pie, "I have done perfectly. Third time is the charm." He set the pie on the table and struck a dramatic pose. "It was along, perilous journey, and the damage done by the first two failed attempts was great, but in the end, there will always be Pumpkin Pie." He grinned goofily. "It's my favourite treat."
"I prefer cheesecake," Remus said.
Sirius snorted. "Cheesecake is good, Moony, but nothing is better than Pumpkin Pie."
"I agree with Sirius," Hermione said.
"Me too," Harry agreed. He leaned towards Hermione. "Does it taste good? I've never had it."
"It's a piece of heaven," she whispered back.
Sirius, who was busy gloating over Remus, didn't hear the exchange. "Well, since the majority wins," he flipped a knife in the air and caught it deftly by the handle. "I say we eat." He began to cut five pieces, talking all the while about how wonderful pumpkin pie was compared to cheesecake.
"You're being very childish about this," Remus grumbled as he put one of the pieces on Harmony's tray.
"It's called arrested development, Moon Pie," Sirius said, smirking when Remus scowled. "I freely admit that I was never very mature," he handed Harry a large piece of pie. "I'm worse now though."
Remus sighed mournfully. "And you were granted permission to become a headmaster." He shook his head and handed Hermione her piece. "We're doomed."
"Here, have some pie," Sirius said, putting a piece on his plate. "I promise, it will make you feel better." He took the final piece for himself and took a bite. "It always makes me feel better at least." He sighed contentedly, then looked at Harry, a touch of sadness in his eyes. "You're mother made wonderful pumpkin pie, Harry. It was her recipe that I used, but I'm afraid I didn't do it justice."
Harry nodded as he stared pensively at the far wall. "It's fine Sirius," he said softly before he smiled. "I like it a lot better than the last time you tried to cook!" Everyone laughed, their hearts light.
His eyes alight with a mischievous twinkle, Sirius reached towards Remus' half - eaten piece while the werewolf fed Harmony. "Stay away from my pie, Sirius." Remus turned back and scowled good naturedly at his friend.
"But Moony," Sirius pouted, "I just want to make sure it's safe for you to eat," he said, moving to steal a bite.
"Stop that, Padfoot, or I'll fork you," Remus said, brandishing a fork as though it were a sword. Hermione choked on her juice.
Sirius quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge, Moon Pie?" He casually twirled a spoon in his hand.
Remus puffed out his chest in mock defiance. "It is if you think you're up to it."
"En Garde!" The two men began duelling, Sirius wielding a spoon, Remus a fork. Harry and Hermione shared a glance before they began laughing hysterically.
Harmony, however, did not find the situation funny at all. "No!" The baby yelled, throwing a handful of the pumpkin filling at Sirius, hitting him squarely on the chin. "No!"
Everyone was silent for a moment. "I've been beat by baby," Sirius said softly, as though he couldn't believe what just happened. He began to pout, his pumpkin - covered face making Harry and Hermione laugh harder. He stood up and walked to the sink, grumbling about wasted pie.
While his back was turned, Remus snagged a bite of the slice on Sirius' plate, sharing a conspiratorial wink with Harry and Hermione. By the time Sirius returned, Remus was cooing over Harmony, telling her what a good girl she was for defending him. Sirius didn't seem to notice there was a bite missing from his pie and sat down to eat. He never did catch on to why Harry and Hermione laughed every time they looked at him.
It was some time later that the group walked merrily to the family room to play board games. One of the games Hermione had chosen to keep-- one of Harmony's favourite games when she was older-- was Clue. Because of their ages, they ended up pairing off. Harry and Hermione were partners, and played as Colonel Mustard. Remus and Harmony were teamed up, and played as Professor Plum. Sirius was paired off with Horace, much to everyone's amusement, and for some reason decided to play as Mrs. Peacock.
Hermione had never felt so relaxed since she had accepted her mission. Clue was an intellectually stimulating game that she and Harmony had always enjoyed. Playing Clue as a child had been the beginning of her love for logic puzzles and riddles. It was the very same love that saved Harry on several occasions over the years.
While it was a bit old for Harry, he caught on quickly, and genuinely seemed to enjoy trying to figure out who the villain was. He did have a tendency to want to find the villain as quickly as possible, and often jumped to conclusions based on the evidence he and Hermione had with out questioning the others. Luckily, Hermione was well versed in the ways of Clue, and was able to keep him from losing the game for them before they had barely begun. She doubted he really understood the strategies she was explained to him in hushed whispers while Sirius and Remus pretended they couldn't hear her, but it didn't really matter.
After Harry and Hermione won three games in a row, they decided it was time for bed. "After all, we still need to go through the rest of the Malfoy library and pick up anything else you want from their manor," Remus said.
And so Hermione lay on her bed, waiting for Harry to sneak in. She knew he would; she had promised him an explanation. It was actually shocking that he had managed to go so long without asking her again.
She didn't have to wait long before she heard the creak of the floorboard outside her door before a shaft of light fell across her room. "Hermione? Are you awake?"
"Yes, Harry, I'm awake. Come on in," Hermione replied softly. Harry padded into the room and stood patiently by her bed. The young girl patted a place on her bed across from her and sighed. Most little boys didn't care if they were allowed to sit on someone's bed-- if they wanted to sit there, they did. Harry always waited to be invited, he never asked, he only waited for permission. She didn't know whether she was pleased that he always waited for her permission to sit on her bed or annoyed. She liked that he was polite, but dreaded what the Dursleys had done to him to drill such manners into such a young boy. Even as a child, she had never been as polite as Harry.
Harry clambered onto the bed and sat in front of her, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his hands. "So why did you steal that book, Hermione? Why didn't you just ask for it? They would have given it to you."
Hermione drew in a deep breath and prepared to take one of the biggest risks she had ever taken. "That book is actually a diary Harry, and it was very important that I have it. I didn't want to take the chance that Mr. Sinclair wouldn't let me have it."
"Why?" He asked. "The only reason he wouldn't let you have it is if it was dangerous," he frowned. "That's it, isn't it? You want a dangerous book. But why? Why do you want a dangerous book, Hermione? You could get hurt."
She couldn't help the small smile that formed on her lips. It was so like her Harry to try and keep her safe. But now was not the time to reminisce-- there were serious matters to discuss. "Harry," she sighed heavily. "This is very important, but I need you to promise you won't tell anyone, okay? No one can know," she leaned forward, "Not even Sirius or Papa Remus, okay? Only you and I, alright?"
Harry stared at her for a long moment before nodding slowly. "This is important, isn't it? This is even more important than you teaching me to use magic, right? I won't tell anyone. I promise."
"Harry, the man who killed your parents, Voldemort?" The young boy nodded. "He's still alive," she said bluntly, not knowing how to soften her words. Harry never liked it when people beat around the bush anyways. "This diary," she pulled the small book out of the drawer of her nightstand, where she had hidden it shortly after arriving home, "Was his. But it's more than that.
"This diary," she waved it around and lowered her voice. "This diary holds a piece of his soul in it, Harry, and that is why he is still alive."
Harry scowled at the book. "Then you should burn it, Hermione. You should throw it into the fireplace," he gestured towards the kitchen.
Hermione shook her head. "I can't, Harry, not yet." She bit her lip. "There are more of these."
He frowned. "More diaries?"
She shook her head. "No, not diaries. Voldemort is an evil man, Harry. He broke his soul up into six pieces." Hermione reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled out the locket and the bracelet. "One piece of his soul was left in his body, but the other five he put into different things." Hermione handed him the diary and the jewellery. "These are three of them, Harry. I need to get the other two."
Harry looked closely at Riddle's diary and sighed. "I don't understand, Hermione. I don't understand why you didn't just tell them that you wanted the diary. They would have given it to you."
Hermione shook her head. "They might have," she took the diary back. "But Mr. Sinclair might have been able to detect that it's a Dark Artefact."
The young boy frowned again. "How?"
"This diary holds a piece of Voldemort's soul. In order to put part of his soul in it, he had to break off some of it," Hermione gently grabbed his hand. "In order to break off part of your soul, you have to kill someone. That means that Voldemort killed someone, then put the part of his soul in this." Hermione held up the diary again.
Harry looked mortified. "I k-killed that--"
"That's different Harry," Hermione interrupted before he could voice his fears. "You killed Mr. Malfoy to save me Harry. You didn't kill him to make yourself immortal." Hermione dropped the diary and leaned towards Harry, pulling him into a tight embrace. "That was very brave of you, Harry. Saving me doesn't make you a bad person."
Harry held her tightly as though clinging desperately to a lifeline. There was a long silence as they simply held each other, both unwilling to release the other. Hermione didn't want to let go because she feared he would take the loss of contact as rejection, and Harry didn't want to let go because if Hermione was hugging him, it meant he was a good person, because Hermione would never hug someone who was bad.
Finally, Harry released Hermione and looked down at the objects in his hands in confusion. There was something bothering him, Hermione could tell, but decided to wait for him to tell her. He looked up. "How? How do you know all of this?" He shook his head a little as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
If I were in his shoes, I'd lock me up in the nut ward. "I'm a Seer, Harry, remember?" I hate lying, especially to Harry! She took a deep breath and continued on. "He's going to come back, Harry." She said quietly as Harry's head snapped up. "Voldemort is going to come back," Hermione leaned forward, "Unless the pieces of his soul are destroyed."
"Will he hurt people?" Harry asked, his voice rough with emotion. Hermione could only bring herself to nod. His face turned blank for a moment before his eyes narrowed. "Who does he hurt?"
"A lot of people," she replied quietly, hoping against hope that he wouldn't push the subject.
"Who?" Harry persisted.
"Sirius, Remus, lots of people you haven't met yet." Hermione hesitated. Should I tell him? What would he do if he knew I died? Would he become overprotective? Would he want to break off or friendship to protect me, like he broke off his relationship with Ginny? She looked into his eyes and couldn't bring herself to lie again. "Me."
Harry dropped his gaze and glared at the three seemingly harmless objects before him. He looked up, fire burning in his emerald eyes. "Do you know what the other things are?"
Hermione nodded slowly. He isn't, she thought. He's too young.
"Do you know where they are?" He continued.
Again, Hermione nodded. He is, she realized. Well, he never did do things like everyone else. How could I have expected any less of him?
Harry nodded. "What are they? Where are they?"
Hermione frowned. He was going to try and get them himself, just as he had in the other timeline. He was trying to shut her out again. We'll see about that, she huffed. "Why do you want to know Harry?"
"Because I want to go them and get rid of them so he can't come back and hurt you and Sirius and Remus," he replied simply.
Ah, the innocence of youth and the willingness to talk. Hermione shook her head again. "That's not the way it works, Harry. I'm not going to let you go off all by yourself, it's too dangerous. You don't know what you're getting into."
"And you could get hurt if you go by yourself," he argued back. He was silent, trying to stare her into submission. Finally he seemed to relent. "I'm not going to let you go alone, Hermione, and you're not going to let me go alone, so why don't we go together?"
She stared at him, thinking about his proposal. It was better than nothing, even if he couldn't do much with his magic yet. With time and training, he could really help her, and it would be a good idea for two of them to go, just in case one of them was injured. "Okay," she said slowly, "But--"
"When do we go?" He asked immediately, his expression determined and his face set.
"Not anytime soon," Hermione replied. Harry opened his mouth to argue but Hermione cut him off. "No Harry, neither one of us is ready for this." She sighed heavily and collapsed against her pillows.
"But I came to get you! I learned how to use my magic Hermione. I'm not as good as you are, but…" Harry hesitated before plunging onward. "I don't want Voldemort to come back. He killed my parents Hermione! He's the reason I had to stay with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon! You said that when he comes back that you and Sirius and Remus get hurt, and I don't want you to get hurt!" His chest was heaving and his eyes were frantic.
"Harry," she soothed, reaching out to rest her hand out to comfort him. "I know, Harry, I really do. It's just that… the pieces of Voldemort's soul… this isn't going to be easy Harry."
"I know that!" He seemed angry, but Hermione knew he was desperate. "I know it's not going to be easy, but--"
"Harry, think of what I went through to get the diary." Hermione interrupted softly. "Think of what I'm still going through! Harry," she said quietly. "If I take one wrong potion, or if someone accidentally gives me something with lacewing flies in it, I'll die. Mr. Malfoy did this to me, Harry, and he was the one who was keeping the diary."
Harry's face paled dramatically as he realized what she was saying. "This is going to be really hard, and it's going to be really dangerous." Hermione bit her lip. "That's why we need to wait, Harry. Both of us need to have better control over our magic. And Sirius and Papa Remus will never let us do this if they ever find out. Do you see Harry? If we do this, we do it alone. No one can help us, Harry, because they either won't believe us, or they won't let us do it. We're not ready yet."
Ghosts of her past crept into her mind. This is a grave responsibility you must undertake alone-- no one here will remember anything that has happened here, so there is no one you can go to for advice. If you do this, you will do it alone. Hermione shuddered as she recalled Dumbledore's words. At least this time she had Harry.
Harry sighed heavily and looked up at her. "When will we be ready?" He asked softly.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. We need to train ourselves, then we need to find a way to get away from Sirius and Papa Remus. Then we need to have a way to take care of each other in case one of us gets hurt, so that Sirius and Papa Remus don't find out what we're doing…" She trailed off. Everything seemed so impossible. "And then we have school coming up," Hermione cringed. She hoped she wouldn't have to sit through several lessons of which letters make what sound.
Harry sat quietly, looking deep in thought. "What if… I mean, I have to go back to Aunt Petunia's and Uncle Vernon's every summer, remember? Sirius told me that I could only stay here some of the time, but Privet Drive is my real home because I go to school here. What if we went and looked for them when I have to go over there? We'd have to convince Sirius and Remus to let you go with me, and we'd have to get Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to let you stay there, but… do you think that would work?"
The bushy haired girl looked at Harry, impressed. "I think that's a brilliant idea Harry, but I think we'd better wait for a while before we, you know, go get the pieces of Voldemort's soul." Harry opened his mouth to protest. "We're not ready, Harry." She interrupted, gently resting her hand on his in a comforting gesture. "I don't think we'll ever be ready, not really, but we need to be as prepared as we can be at the very least."
Harry sighed heavily but nodded. "I understand Hermione. We'll wait, but not very long, okay? I don't want him to come back and hurt my family."
Family, Hermione thought with a trill of happiness and a smile. He's never really had a family, but he has one now! She looked outside, watching the stars twinkle merrily above them. "I think we should go to bed Harry. It's late and I have to go back to Malfoy Manor tomorrow," she shuddered.
Harry nodded his understanding. "Alright Hermione. I'll talk to you tomorrow," he said through a yawn and slipped off her bed, heading towards the door.
As Harry left, Hermione leaned back against her pillows, pondering her day. She couldn't keep herself from grinning. She knew that Harry was too young to be involved in all of this, but then, wasn't he too young for the hand fate had dealt him altogether? It wasn't fair that Harry should have to deal with everything. At least she had agreed to her mission, had willingly accepted her burden.
But now everything is going so well! She thought with a lighter heart. She was free of the Malfoys, she had collected three Horcruxes, and she felt secure in the thought that Harry was going to help her get the remaining two. She knew it was silly, but this was her Harry, and she knew in her heart of hearts, if he were with her, then she could succeed.
Hermione had struggled with herself all day, trying to determine what she should tell him. How many lies? How much of the truth? She was sick of lying-- it wasn't in her righteous nature to lie. She felt her stomach knot as her thoughts took a darker turn. Where is the little girl who felt so guilty over stealing a sweet that she confessed her crime to her parents?
It was her unwillingness to lie if she didn't have to that led her to confessing as much of the truth as she could to Harry. She knew he was young, far too young for what she needed to do, but he deserved to know the truth. The last time the truth had been withheld, it had cost him his Godfather's life.
She rolled over onto her stomach and pushed her dismal thoughts away and concentrated on everything that was finally going right. She had three Horcruxes. Remus was going to adopt her. Harry was going to stay with her and fight with her. Together, they would save the world from Voldemort, and prevent a dark future. Hermione smiled and snuggled down into her blankets. She drifted off to sleep, hoping against hope that Morpheus would bring her pleasant dreams.
---------
The Dark Harry was walking calmly down a corridor, his immaculate black robes billowing behind him. Hermione followed as he made several turns until they reached what she recognized as the library door. Without pausing, the Dark Harry pushed the door open and walked in.
The familiar face of Vincent Crabbe snapped up at the sound of the door opening. The young man immediately leapt to his feet, his expression terrified. "C-can I help you, Milord?" He stuttered out.
Harry smiled winningly. "Surprisingly, yes you can." He casually strolled forward. "Why don't you have a seat Vince? You don't mind if I call you Vince do you? Oh good. I knew you wouldn't mind. Sit, Vince, sit." He gestured to the chair Crabbe had been sitting in. "You look a bit pale, Vince, are you alright?"
The other man nodded vigorously. "Quite alright Milord. Fine. Fantastic. Wonderful. Never been--"
"Shut up," Harry said, brushing non - existent lint from his robes. Crabbe's mouth snapped shut. Harry looked up. "There's a bit of a problem with that ritual you found to bring Hermione back," he began, his pose was casual but his eyes glittered dangerously. "Do you know what that might be?"
"N-no Milord." Crabbe replied, a look of terror on his face. He looked as though he was staring at the Grim Reaper. In a way, he is.
"Hermione's been having dreams. Strange, recurring dreams." He tossed a journal onto the table. "After the first few, she decided to keep a journal of everything that was happening." He leaned forward. "Now, Hermione has never had these dreams before. She's only been having them since we brought her back.
"Three days, Vince. You have three days to read that journal and provide me with a logical explanation why the love of my life is having these dreams." He rested his head in his hand as he stared passively at the trembling man before him. "Of course, considering that my Hermione should have never have had to deal with these dreams, it's rather generous of me to give you three days, don't you agree?"
"Y-yes s-sir. V-very gen-generous s--"
"I don't speak babble Vince, so you're going to have to be a bit clearer," the Dark Harry said, his eyes glinting dangerously, betraying his annoyance despite his passive face.
Crabbe cleared his throat nervously. "Yes Sir, it's very generous of you to give me three days."
The Dark Harry grinned cheerfully. "So glad you agree, Vince! And as a friendly reminder…" With the speed of a striking viper, the Dark Harry conjured a knife and slammed it down, the blade going through the back of Crabbe's left hand and striking the table. Crabbe's eyes bulged, and his mouth hung open in a silent cry. Hermione felt her stomach turn as the blood began to flow, slowly at first, but soon it was gushing from the wound.
"Do you like my knife, Vince? I conjured it myself you know. It's a bit of an experiment. I believe that I have conjured an enchanted knife that will cause wounds that cannot be healed. You're my first test, aren't you lucky? You will let me know if that nasty little cut heals won't you? I hope it doesn't, otherwise I'll have to go back to the drawing board.
"Three days, Vince, to figure out what you did wrong and how to fix it." He hissed, his eyes narrowed. "And it had better be worth the wait." The Dark Harry released the handle of the knife and stood calmly, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in his robes. "Have a nice day, Vince, and happy hunting." He walked towards the door, a slight bounce in his step.
"Oh, and Vince?" He turned back. The quaking man looked up from his weak attempts to grab the handle and remove the knife. "Don't even think of bleeding on the books. It would upset Hermione." He stood calmly, clearly waiting for something
"Yes Milord," Crabbe rasped.
The Dark Harry smiled and turned away once more, this time walking out of the library without a backwards glance.
---------
Hermione jerked awake, her heart pounding in her chest. She trembled as she wiped the cold sweat away from her brow. Wish, not granted. Looking out the window, she could see the faintest of rays on the horizon. Deciding it was pointless to try to sleep, Hermione slipped out of bed to get ready for the day.
When she met up with Harry later that morning, she found he acted more like he had before he had killed Lucius Malfoy. The only difference was this time there was a glint of grim determination. Hermione wondered again if she had made the right decision.
---------
A/N: I'm really sorry it took so long, but I met this little plot bunny by the name of Home so I was rather busy. Feel free to check it out if you want, the story is better than the summary.
I thought it would be fun to visit with the Dark Harry. I was actually waiting for an excuse to write him, so I thought, why not?
Well, thank you for reading and waiting, and special thanks to those who reviewed. Please read and review!
Cheers,
Madm_05