The Hufflepuff Cup-Chapter 19
Harry and Hermione stayed up the entire night. Hermione poured over the pages of Hogwarts: A History while Harry went through the notes she'd already made. By the time they heard the rooster crow, they had all but passed out. After all of that the only thing they had accomplished was losing four or five hours of sleep.
"Hermione, I'm too tired to think anymore," he said hanging his head.
"Me too, Harry," she admitted. "I hope you haven't been staying up because you felt obligated to stay with me. Because I stayed up because I didn't think you were tired yet."
They laughed at each other. It had turned out to be one of those silly things that I'm not going to bed until you do and neither one of them wanted to be there. "Oh my God, Harry. It's almost six-thirty. Mr. Weasley will be up soon. We'd better clean up this kitchen."
"Ah wait," he said with a look of satisfaction. "Scourgify."
Hermione smiled. "I guess you did learn something from all your years around me and Ginny. Never do anything by hand if magic will do," she giggled. "I do so love being a witch. Shouldn't have showed me that you remembered that spell though now, Harry. If we get married, you'll have no excuse for leaving a mess anywhere in the house."
Harry could only shake his head. "Who says I'm going to marry you anyway? Millicent Bulstrode may turn into a swan." They both laughed until Hermione's face went slack and she stuck out her tongue.
"Do you know what a gelding or a steer is?" asked Hermione.
"Not really," replied Harry warily.
"Oh, a gelding is a horse that won't have children, if you know what I mean. That's what's in store for you if you keep trying to take the Mickey out of me by talking like that," she said. "One flick of the wrist with my wand and…poof…you sing soprano in a girls' choir."
"Whoa, now that's a bit harsh," cringed Harry. "You're starting to sound more like `Mad-eye Moody than I am." They both laughed again.
"We have to get some sleep," said Hermione.
"One last question, Sweetheart-why are you willing to spend all this time researching this without consulting Lupin or Mr. Weasley?" he asked.
"Harry, it's because your dream seems to make so much sense. You have had so many very detailed dreams and most of them have turned out to have an element of truth to them. We have to do this on our own, Harry," said Hermione. "Besides, as horrifying as it was, it wasn't a nightmare like some of the others. You were calm when you told me it. It was as if it might just be a remnant memory left by Lord Voldemort when he cursed you. You remembered it because we have been filling in details with our discussions and research."
"You really think so?" asked Harry. "My scar didn't hurt."
"Harry, I'm too tired to think about why right now," she said. "I'm sorry."
Harry put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. "I know. I just wonder. It's so weird."
"I'll give you that. It's weird alright," she said. She took out her wand and pointed at the book on the table. "Wingardium Leviosa." She paused for a second to kiss Harry on the cheek and said, "Locomotor, book."
"Ha, that's funny," laughed Harry.
"I'm telling you. I'm so tired I can't carry the book back to my room," she said as he trudged up the steps. "Good night, love."
"Good night, Sweetheart," he said as he followed her with his eyes up the stairs. He thought about what she said about Lord Voldemort. He didn't think that was it. He thought it might be more closely related to what his parents had told him about the dreams he might have. He realized he was too tired to worry about it too. Before he knew it he had climbed the stairs and crawled into bed.
That afternoon when Harry walked down stairs he surprised Mrs. Weasley. "Oh Harry, I'm so involved in my knitting that I forgot you and Hermione were here. Where is Hermione by the way?"
"Probably still having a sleep in, Mrs. Weasley. I woke with a bad dream last night and she heard me up. So we ended up staying up all night talking," he explained. "She was really tired when she finally shuffled off to bed."
"Did you sleep well," asked Mrs. Weasley. "You look pretty cheery."
"I'm okay. We figured out that the dream is probably no big deal. We tried comparing it to others I've had and it was pretty much the same," he said. He hated lying to Mrs. Weasley but he and Hermione agreed that anything to do directly with the Horcruxes was to stay between them.
A few minutes later, Hermione came down the stairs with a smile that looked like it had been painted on. She still looked tired to Harry, but when she saw Mrs. Weasley her expression became cheery like Harry's. "Good afternoon," she said shaking her head at Harry.
"I'll bet you two are hungry. I'll fix you up a little lunch," said Mrs. Weasley as she put her needles and balls of thread on `autoweave'. Harry wondered why she was doing it by hand at all, but he supposed with all the kids out of the house she did it to stay busy.
They chatted during lunch. Mrs. Weasley told them about the last letter from Hogwarts. The only trouble seemed to be the added security and no prospect of Hogsmeade visits this year. But other than that, all seemed to be in order. "You know Harry. I was very upset with you for some of the things you said when you spoke. You could have really made Bill a target," chastised Mrs. Weasley. He wondered why she hadn't said anything until now.
"I am so sorry, Mrs. Weasley. I was nervous and I just got carried away, I guess. I meant every word, but I didn't need to say it all out loud," he admitted.
"Well, I try to only say things to people after I've calmed down. Bill's letter told me not to be so hard on you, but I just felt that you needed to know how I felt," said Molly. "You're such a wonderful young man. I don't want to see you get yourself into spots because you don't watch your tongue."
"Yeah, he does that with me sometimes too. If he weren't so cute and lovable I'd have killed him already," teased Hermione.
"Oh, stop it, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley with a wave of her hand. "He treats you like a queen. I hate to say it but he treats you better than my Ronny ever did."
Harry tried not to say or do anything that would take this conversation any further. He always felt bad when Mrs. Weasley talked about it. He saw the look on Hermione's face as well. She was stuck. If she tried to deflect the comment, she would sound false or she'd have to say something negative about Harry. Somehow she managed to answer without doing either.
"Well, let's just hope Ron and everyone at Hogwarts is safe this year. None of us want to worry about them," said Hermione. "I hope you know I'm very glad you forgave me and still treat me like part of this family."
Mrs. Weasley was nonplussed. "Why wouldn't we, dear? You're young adults. You're trying to figure out life and some things work out on the first try and others don't. Arthur and I were lucky. We never had to go through the heartbreak you kids have. But don't fret it. You and Harry are like my kids whenever you stay here," she said.
Hermione's eyes misted. "Thank you, so much. You have no idea how much hearing you say that means to me."
"Look, you kids could call me `Mum" anytime you like. It would make me happy, because I know this formal stuff can be tiring. But you don't have to. I just thought I'd mention it," said Molly.
She got up from the table and cleared it with her wand. "You two probably have things to do and I most definitely have a lot to do to get ready for Christmas," she said excitedly. "I'm doing some by hand this year just to keep busy and keep from worrying, you see."
"Harry, let's go outside. We need to talk," said Hermione in a very odd voice after acting so joyful during lunch.
They Disillusioned each other as was the norm when outside at the Weasleys and began a slow stroll around the house. "Are you okay, Hermione? I noticed you looked just awful coming down the stairs." Harry saw her bristle a bit. "I mean you didn't look yourself."
"It's one of those times when it's hard to be cheery, Harry," she said. "I'll be okay though. I just feel a little crampy and out of sorts from my period."
Harry hadn't thought of that phase of Hermione's life very much since it had never really come up. He didn't know what to say except, "You don't look like you slept a wink."
"Well, that's probably why it's bothering me so much today. I never, ever feel this bad. It's also got me depressed a bit," he admitted.
Harry was a little confused. She couldn't be upset about not being pregnant. There had to be more to it. "Can I ask why without sounding like an inconsiderate oaf?"
She managed a smile. "Harry, don't worry I'm not sorry that I'm not pregnant at this point in my life. I know you must be confused by that. Sorry if I sounded silly. What bothers me is that I remembered something about Fleur. Isn't she pregnant?"
Harry felt a twinge of uncertainty or anxiety. He wasn't sure which best described it. The fact was that Bill had mentioned that they thought Fleur was pregnant and the wedding couldn't come soon enough. The thing that caused Harry to wonder was that there had been no mention since. "Oh I see your point. What happens if she's pregnant while she's at Hogwarts and something goes wrong?"
Hermione looked even sadder after he said that. "Oh, how miserable can I be?" she said rhetorically. "I didn't even think of that. I thought of what would happen if someone caught on and started spreading rumors that I was pregnant. That's not a condition you can hide from other girls that easily."
Harry saw the problem for what it was now. It could potentially ruin their plans for any number of reasons. "I know you Hermione and you must have a plan of some sort," he offered.
"Harry, I know how much we need to make sure our arrangement stays secret. I also know that anytime we send owls with anything that could give it away, we endanger all of us. I feel sick about asking you this, but I have to. Can I send an owl to Fleur to find out what's going on? I'm a basket case now. I know it's so selfish to worry about my reputation when so many other things are at stake." Hermione looked like she was going to cry. A moment later she was clutching Harry and crying as hard as he'd ever seen.
At first he felt a little awkward. What was he to do? Tell her to suck it up? Did he tell her not to worry about it, because he was sure Fleur probably had it under control? He knew that this was one of those situations where her feelings were most important. "Hermione, write a note and we'll send it. Just try to leave as many specifics out as possible. Maybe you could write it as if you were Fleur and say that you regretted to tell her that you're not pregnant and that you know how much Hermione was looking forward to seeing their child. There has to be a way to say it that won't be obvious."
She cried only a moment or so more but sniffled trying to catch her breath for a several more minutes. Her eyes looked puffy when she pulled her head out of his shoulder. "I'm just so tired, Harry. I didn't sleep at all. I don't want to seem like someone who can't keep it together under pressure. I'm never like this when…you know."
"Hermione, I know what's wrong. Believe me. You're fed up to the ears with taking care of me all the time. You're constantly working on all these things and never get time for yourself. This happened all at once and you're resistance is down because of lack of sleep. Sweetheart, just find a way to write the note that limits the discussion of who is who. I'll find an owl. Then I want you to get Mrs. Weasley's sleeping draught and get some rest. You need to take care of yourself first. And, you are not being selfish at all," he said softly in her ear. "Just take some time for yourself."
He realized that that was becoming true for him too. They had been inseparable since the beginning of summer. There was really no avoiding it now, but he could use a night where he just read a Quidditch magazine or just lounged about.
An hour or so later he read what she had written. It was better than his ideas. She told Fleur how wonderful it was to know that there was a new Weasley on the way. From there Harry didn't need to worry. It was pure genius. She asked if she was worried about looking pregnant when she had her first child. What would she do to avoid it? Harry was sure that Fleur would get the idea simply based on the way Hermione worded it.
"Harry, I feel a little better," she said. "Writing this reminded me of how vain Fleur can be about her own looks and I'm sure she would be the same way about the way she looks while being me."
"Yeah, I think you covered it pretty well. She'll get the hint to let us know if there is any danger from the potion or not too." Finally he added, "Now, for the part where you get some sleep. Get that sleeping potion or I'll hit you over the head with a pillow one thousand times until I knock you unconscious." He motioned like he was hitting her over the head.
For the first time this afternoon, her smile was genuinely bright. "I will. Thanks for not thinking I'm a nutter or anything. I really worked myself into a lather this morning when I couldn't sleep and had all this on my mind."
"Who says I don't think you're a nutter? It just takes one to know one. So if anyone could think that, I'm uniquely qualified. Now get going," he teased. He had second thoughts about just letting her walk away. He grabbed her hand at the last second. He pulled her back and kissed her softly on the forehead. "I'm here when you need to talk just as much as you're here for me. Don't forget that. If anyone should feel like they're being overly selfish, it's me."
She kissed his cheek and walked slowly toward the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley kept her potions. She turned to Harry and said, "Well, you're allowed until we get rid of this monster. After that, I won't put up with it." She took the potion off the shelf and continued toward the stairs and her room. "Remember I said that." She waved as she disappeared from sight.
That afternoon and evening gave Harry time to read up on the new magazines that Mr. Weasley would bring home. He would bring home muggle magazines about carpentry, electricity, sport, and outdoor life. He found a few about Quidditch among them too. He relaxed. It dawned on him how much a part of his life Hermione had become. He also realized that he may have started to count on her a little too much. He wondered if maybe he hadn't been a little bit like a lost puppy over the past few months. He decided he'd try to find something to occupy his mind on occasion to let Hermione have time for herself. He couldn't help but feel that his problems had added to her being overwhelmed today.
The morning was coming quicker than Harry anticipated. He'd found a magazine on home design that seemed rather interesting. He'd always been interested in how space was used. He guessed that it came from being so restricted in the cupboard and in that bedroom at the Dursleys. By midnight, his thoughts had turned to Hermione again and he checked in on her. She was sleeping with an expression of satisfaction on her face.
He ducked out quickly again and put the potion bottle back in the cabinet in the kitchen.
It was there that he ran into Mrs. Weasley on his way to bed.
"Harry, has Hermione been sleeping all this time?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, she has," said Harry not offering an explanation.
"I knew she wasn't feeling well today, but if someone is trying to put a good face on for others, who am I to spoil it?" she said rhetorically. "You take care of one another on your trip now."
Harry had never witnessed the legilimensia quality in Mrs. Weasley before, but shivers ran down his spine as she walked away. "We will Mum." Harry went off to bed still shaking his head in wonder.
Hermione was up when Harry came down the next morning. She was reading a note that could have only come from Fleur. "I can't believe how fast Fleur got back to me," she said with a huge grin. "I was right. She and Bill use a couple of different potions and enchantments to keep things under control. He's glad that you left the Marauder's Map in the trunk. She says she and Bill sneak off for a little private time every once in a while using it to avoid the staff. But she assures me that they are careful to not make it so obvious that people would start vicious rumors."
Harry smiled. He was glad that the reply brightened Hermione up a bit. He could tell she still didn't feel quite right, but now there was only one cause and she had dealt with that since her early teens. He wasn't worried anymore. "So, what's the plan?"
It only took a few minutes for Hermione to explain what else she'd done with the time she couldn't sleep the day before. She had outlined a plan for searching the tombs. First, they would just use each other's middle names. They were common so they wouldn't draw attention. Second, she was pretty sure that the one major town near the site would have a train station, so she thought the train would avoid any problems they might have if they tried to travel by magic. Last, they would just turn the tables a bit on the story they used looking for Godric's Hollow. She was looking to find the grave of her oldest known ancestor.
"So what are we going to do about disguises?" asked Harry. "I'm sure we aren't going like this."
"I think I'm going to change my appearance completely, Harry. Look at this," said Hermione. She took her wand and ran it down from her head to as far as she could reach. As she did, her appearance began to change slowly. Harry noticed that her nose became just a little broader, her hair color changed from brown to blonde and freckles appeared where there had been none before.
"Wow, how'd you do that?" asked Harry.
"Tonks taught me. This is the simplest one you can do. It's not that hard and all it requires is that you concentrate on changing your appearance," said Hermione. "Think hard of someone that you would like to pattern your appearance after. It doesn't have to be a real person. It can just be an image in your head. Remember, this disguise is more of an illusion not a complete change like Polyjuice Potion provides."
Harry imagined the small photo of a twenty-something writer in an article he read the night before. The guy he imagined was different than Harry in only a few ways. He was stockier, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and his eyes were deep blue. He ran his wand over his body the same way Hermione did while trying to keep the picture in his mind. He looked in the mirror. He was surprised. He didn't look much like the guy in the magazine at first, but slowly over time there seemed to be a distinct changes taking place.
After a minute or so, he looked at Hermione and asked, "What do you think?"
"Fine, good. That'll definitely work," said Hermione as she walked around him. Even the style of clothes had changed. "It's just weird to look at you with a ponytail and blonde."
"The nice part about this enchantment is that the more often you use the same image, the faster the change occurs. It takes several minutes for it to be complete at first," said Hermione. "That's why I appeared to change much faster. I've practiced this one. Look at yourself now."
Harry was surprised to see the stubble of a day old beard. He wondered. He pulled up his sleeve and revealed the tattoo in the same spot as the other guy. It was the Chinese Yin Yang symbol. "Whoa, that's wicked." He knew that anyone who was looking for Harry Potter wouldn't suspect him. With that thought, he looked at his forehead closely for signs of his scar. There were none.
The longer he looked in the mirror the more he could see his real features coming through. "So, if you spend too much time with someone who knows you, they can see through it can't they?" asked Harry as he continued to notice that the change was less distinct even now.
"Yes, that's why Polyjuice Potion has its uses. Under this enchantment, you could deliver something to Mrs. Weasley like you are now and she couldn't tell it was you. But if you stood and talked to her for more than a few minutes she'd probably say you remind her of someone. It takes a while for someone to catch on, but they do eventually," said Hermione. "That's another advantage that a Metamorphmagus like Tonks has. They actually change. What we're doing is putting up an illusion around us that will conform to our general size and shape. It can distort our appearance, but not change it drastically."
"Ah, cool. That makes sense. So while we're gone we'll only see what others see for a while, then we'll see each other normally?" asked Harry.
"That's the interesting part, Harry. You can see both if you concentrate after you know who it is. You just have to imagine the other person as they really are for a few seconds and you can dissolve the illusion," said Hermione.
They spent the afternoon mulling about the house. Harry felt like a caged animal. He was ready to go, but Hermione seemed satisfied with reading over the notes. He knew better than to interrupt her. It was always possible with Hermione that in one instant she'd find the secret to the whole thing. Harry found himself heading off to Ron's room several times to change his appearance to make sure it was relatively the same and see how much more quickly it took effect each time he did it. Finally, he heard Hermione coming toward him. He had left the door ajar, hoping for just such an occasion. She stepped in the door without knocking.
"So, when do we go?" he pressed her for an answer. "I kind of like the way I look now and don't want to lose it."
"I thought we'd leave tonight around supper, but we could go right now if you're in that much of a hurry, Harry. I'd like to make sure I have everything first though," she replied. "Give me a few minutes to go through the notes I made and make sure we have the map."
Harry felt a twinge of guilt. He was counting on her too much. He should be helping her make sure everything was ready. "Hey, what can I do to help?"
She turned with a surprised look and gave him a few things to do that would make things easier. It took him only five minutes to gather their personal care stuff like tooth brushes, tooth paste, an extra jacket for each of them, and the small bag of muggle money that they'd kept hidden since his birthday. He never realized how much stuff she had to organize the last time they went on a trip like this.
"Okay, now I feel more ready," she said. "We could have gone without a lot of this stuff but it would have meant spending more money. Are you ready?"
"Yep, let's get going," said Harry.
A moment later, he found himself holding Hermione's arm just outside King's Cross Station. The mid-afternoon rush hadn't started yet but was only a half an hour or so away. Soon the terminals would be packed. Hermione pointed the way to the ticket office. She booked them on the six o'clock train to Middlesbrough which was just down the coast from Newcastle. They would arrive somewhere around nine o'clock. That would give them a good night's rest before setting off in the morning.
"Harry, the place we have to go is between Newcastle and Middlesbrough. It will probably take us as long to go from our hotel to the gravesites as it does to get to the hotel from here," she said with a sigh. "This is just the first part of our journey."
The train left the terminal a minute late. Harry had the foresight to grab them a few chocolate bars and drinks for the trip. He didn't know what would be available on the train. Hermione was grateful. Of all the things they hadn't planned for meals topped the list. Soon with their hunger satisfied for the moment, they settled into their seats for the trip. The only remotely tense moment occurred when the Conductor came by to take the tickets and Hermione had buried them in her handbag. Once that was handled, the trip continued on smoothly. Finally, almost exactly as posted in the timetable, they arrived in Middlesbrough.
The nearest hotel to the station was a mere two or three minutes by car, so they took a taxi. By nine-thirty they were safely tucked away in their hotel suite looking for a menu from room service. "Hermione, if you were a roast chicken, I'd be ripping you limb from limb and devouring you right now," Harry joked.
"Oh nice. Now I know to keep you well fed in case you become delusional. What a horrid thought to be ripped apart and eaten," she said with a shiver. "I'd say the same to you but after a comment like that the only thing I could see you as is an ass and I wouldn't eat one of those." She smiled.
They laughed. Harry thought for a second about how low their expectations for humor had gone when they were famished. They hadn't eaten anything but that chocolate since lunch. "Let's order Chinese," he suggested holding an advertisement in his hand.
"Fine, you know what I like. Go ahead and order," said Hermione who had just returned herself to her normal appearance.
"Cool," said Harry doing the same. "I'll just phone them up right now." He called the restaurant and ordered. He flipped on the TV and fell back on the bed while Hermione went into the bathroom. She came out just before dinner in pajamas.
Harry ate like a man possessed while Hermione ate hurriedly still trying to maintain the illusion of manners. Eventually, she too gave way to her hunger. They laughed at each other more than once as they wiped their chins of food dribbling down their fronts. "I don't think I've been this hungry in ages…maybe ever," exaggerated Hermione. "I'm embarrassed to be eating like this even in front of you." She giggled.
Harry could care less. He'd ordered a large portion for himself. He heaped rice and chicken with broccoli on his plate as though he were reserving this portion so that Hermione couldn't get it. "Can you imagine what those people whose plane crashed in the Andes felt like? I mean they eventually cannibalized each other."
"Harry, shut up!" exclaimed Hermione as she kept eating even though she cringed at the thought.
Luckily for both of them, they didn't have to wait long for the satisfied feeling to overtake them. Harry fluffed the pillows and leaned back against the headboard. He laughed at the old Benny Hill show Hermione had put on. "Do you like this too?" asked Harry.
"Not particularly," she said. "But I know you do." She smiled from her bed as she read the romance novel she'd bought in the bookstore at King's Cross.
"Do you like that rubbish?" asked Harry realizing immediately how he sounded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
"Well, it's just as good as the rubbish you're watching. I think you watch just to see him chase those girls with their boobies hanging out," she said defensively and sticking her tongue out.
Harry laughed quietly. "You do know me well, don't you?" he tried to say under his breath.
"Yes, I do, Harry Potter. Why do you think I changed into men's pajamas as soon as I could? I know what happens when we stay in hotel rooms," she said with the covers pulled up to her neck.
"Hermione, I'm sorry. It was a rude thing to say, alright? I admit it. Will you stop being angry with me?" he pleaded.
"I'm not angry, Harry. Did you expect that I'd read textbooks all my life?" she said simply. She wasn't smiling like she usually did when she was taking the Mickey out of him. "I just like reading this `rubbish' as you call it, because the heroine actually has a life like I'd like to live one day. Her real life might be boring, but she gets her fantasy lover in the end. My life isn't boring, but I'm not sure I'll end up the same, now am I?"
Harry looked at her for a moment. What she said hit home. She read those books for the same reason most people did-to escape reality. If anyone had a reality that they needed to escape, she did. "I am sorry, Hermione. I should have realized that we're both doing the same thing in different ways." He was referring to the mind-numbing comedy he watched on TV to push aside the anxiety he knew he'd feel otherwise.
He shut off the TV went to the bathroom and got ready for bed. The light next to Hermione's bed was off when he came out. He walked over and kissed her temple lightly. Then he returned to his bed.
He pulled back the covers and slipped in under them. "Harry?" said Hermione. "I'm sorry for getting so cheeky over such a simple comment. They are horrid except for the romantic scenes." She giggled.
"No worries, Sweetheart. I think I've tried to become too much of a comedian for my own good these days," he conceded. "Love you, Hermione. Sleep well."
"You too, Harry. We'll be okay in the morning," she said in a consoling tone.
It wasn't long and they'd both fallen into a deep and unusually restful sleep.
The nice thing about autumn for Harry was the changing of the leaves. He awoke to the soft sounds of leaves blowing against the second floor window and fluttering slowly to the ground. Hermione's soft breathing was the only other thing he heard. He barely remembered their disagreement from the night before and decided instead to focus on the dream he had of making love to her. He lay with his eyes closed listening to her breathing just a few feet away.
He had almost drifted back to sleep himself, when he heard the rustling of Hermione's covers. "Good morning, sunshine," he said joyfully.
"Oh, it looked like you were still asleep. Do you need to use the loo? If you don't I'm going in there," she said hastily.
"No, I'm okay," he answered.
Harry got up and went to the little area near the sink where the hotel kept the electric kettle. He filled it with water and found the complimentary tea bags. He crossed the room again and opened the side window to let in the fresh air. He was brought to the present and out of his daydream by the sound of the whistling kettle. He looked over and saw Hermione still in her pajamas pouring the water into their cups.
"Sorry Harry, it was just one of those mornings where you wake up and some things take priority over civility," she smiled. "Did you sleep well?"
"Oh yeah, I did. You?" he asked in return.
"Fabulously," she said. "Wow, will you smell that fresh sea air?"
Harry had just been thinking the same thing. The hotel was a block or two in from the harbor but the wind this morning brought the smell of the sea to their window. "So, here we are. What next, Hermione?"
She brought Harry his tea and kissed him. "I owe you that from last night," she said simply. She went and sat on the end of her bed with one leg outstretched and the other folded under it. "Well, I think we should get a good breakfast and then find somewhere to get a very detailed map of the area. We can take it from there. I know what direction to go; I just don't know what streets will get us there."
"Should we find a prominent landmark and take a cab to that point?" asked Harry.
"Yeah, that's an idea. It'll make that part a little easier," responded Hermione.
She took out the local telephone directory. "You know Harry, I was thinking. What if we rented bicycles?"
Harry couldn't have been caught much more off guard with a suggestion. He looked at her and thought for a second. That was actually a really good idea, he thought. "I like it, Hermione. Is there a rental place near?"
"There is one near the edge of town actually. They advertise that it's a good way to see the countryside without the hassle of driving. Apparently, there are bicycle trails out of town headed in the direction of our search," she said with a smile.
They hadn't been running in weeks, but he thought that they hadn't fallen so far out of shape that even a long bicycle ride wouldn't be too hard. They gathered their belongings and assumed their disguises. Breakfast was tasty and the ride in the cab to the bicycle rental facility was quick.
Harry could feel the nervous energy starting to well up inside him. The bicycle ride was a welcome thought to him as he selected a sleek mountain bike with the huge knobby tires. He was amazed at how heavy the bike was. Hermione did the same. They made sure that one of the bikes had a saddlebag big enough to fit Harry's full backpack inside. His backpack was emptied to carry the cup if they found it. This extra feature on the bicycle was huge plus. They had planned on dumping the backpack out if the cup took too much room. Now, the backpack was completely free to hold the cup. Harry could carry it with him and if necessary Disapparate with the cup securely fastened to his back.
The map of the trails also showed the landmarks and points of interest in the area. Hermione was beside herself with joy when she saw the point marked "Graveyard Ruins and Excavation Site." It was about eight miles out on the northwestern running trail, but about two miles off of it. The mountain bikes were going to be worth the investment.
Harry felt the burning in his legs as they pedaled along. He knew this must be agony for Hermione. He was surprised though when she smiled back at him. Neither of them talked as the September breeze that blew lightly in their faces threatened to steal their breath away if they tried. They stopped about forty minutes into their ride to see where they were.
They were in the midst of open fields and crops that seemed to have already been harvested. The air was fresh and crisp.
"Are you getting along alright, Hermione? My legs are burning and I just wondered about you," he said as he looked at the map over her shoulder.
She hung her head for a second. He could tell she was smiling. "I'm glad you admitted it first. I wasn't going to give you the satisfaction of knowing my legs are on fire if you acted like it didn't faze you."
He kissed her neck softly. "Don't do that to yourself, Hermione. If something bothers you, just tell me to stop. Chances are that I need the break too."
"Okay," she said. "Can we rest a minute or should we get going before we cramp up?"
"We should keep going for exactly that reason, Hermione. We can stretch when we get where we're going. It will give us a good excuse to take our time looking around," he said with a smile. "I know; it sucks but we have to press on while we still can."
Hermione swung her leg over the bar and pushed off without a word. The break seemed to help a bit and it didn't hurt that the turn toward the west put the breeze more to the side than in their faces. They rode for another twenty minutes or so until they started to get to where the trees began to come more frequently. Harry thought this was an indication that they were almost there as he took a quick look at his watch. He stopped pedaling for a minute or so. "I think we're almost there, Hermione." He resumed riding and four or five minutes later a small gazebo appeared next to a sign. Behind it, he could see headstones.
"Graveyard Ruins and Excavation Site" said the sign. The gazebo was fully enclosed. Harry and Hermione went inside and found about a dozen pictures of old headstones and places roped off with danger signs. Hermione found a small brochure that described the area. It detailed the discovery of the underground tombs found in the 1920s. It went on to say that many of the roped off areas had unstable ground do to the shifting of the earth from supports in the tunnels giving way. It was the first time that either of them realized that what they were looking for could be hidden underground in one of those tunnels.
Harry spoke in a distressed tone. "How someone could put graves over the top of tunnels and not know it, I'll never understand. I mean, really."
There were walkways through this section of the graveyard. They left their bikes and took a short walk through the first few rows. It was Harry who noticed the pattern first. "Maybe they didn't," he said. "Look." He pointed to the first place they saw the red signs and ropes cordoning off a place where there seemed to have been a landslide.
"Well, maybe the tunnels were really deep and undetectable for people in those days. It looks like they stopped with this row here. It appears to be the only one that toppled on top of more graves. The rest seems to be an area dug out to reveal the graves," she described.
Hermione also noticed that far off to the eastern side of the rubble and dug up earth there seemed to be a bigger building and a car park. There was only one car she could see. "Do you see the car park over there?"
Harry looked and saw what she was pointing at. "Let's go see what it is," he suggested.
"Sure," replied Hermione. She suggested they follow the paths that wound toward the building while walking the bicycles. Harry agreed and ten minutes later they found themselves in a museum of sorts. There was an elderly couple standing near one of the doors.
"You children took the long way in I guess," said the woman who Harry guessed was probably late sixties. "We saw you off in the distance."
"That isn't the entrance, I take it," said Hermione.
"Well, used to be," said the man in a wavering voice. "At least until around 1996 when they put the museum of relics and artifacts here."
Harry felt obliged to be polite. "Good day, sir and ma'am. I'm James and this is Jane."
"Good day," said the woman. "This is Eldridge and I'm Margaret. Pleased to meet you."
"Likewise," said Hermione with a smile. "Have you been here before?"
"We've lived in Newcastle all of our lives," said Eldridge. "We come every year at this time to pay respects to our parents. This place has become quite a site over the years."
"Really?" commented Harry. "Jane is here because she thinks her oldest known ancestor may be buried here."
"Oh, children, you could be here for days looking for someone if you hadn't come here. They put in a new directory just last March. It won't give you where your loved ones are laid to rest, but it will give you a general area by the era they passed away," said Margaret. "I take it you could be looking for a way into the part of the excavation area that's open if you're going back very far. Is that right?"
"We aren't sure, really," said Hermione. "The records of my family go back several centuries, but there is some doubt that we're in the right place." Harry noticed a bit of nervousness in Hermione's voice.
"Well, if it's older than the time of Queen Elizabeth I, then you'll be looking in the catacombs they opened up in the 1950s. You'll find all of the information you need over there in that directory, children. If you'll forgive us, it's hard to stay on our feet for a long time these days. We need to be leaving. Good luck," said Margaret.
Whether Hermione felt the same electric buzz go through her as he did at the mention of the 1950s, Harry wasn't sure. He knew that it was a step in the right direction. He stepped toward the door and held it for the elderly couple as they exited. "Good day, sir and ma'am."
"Thank you, son. You're very courteous. Someone like you surprise me now and again," said Eldridge. "Never had much use for long-haired men, but you're very much a gentleman."
Harry had forgotten his appearance, but took the man's comments as a compliment nonetheless. "Thank you, sir. Take care of yourselves now won't you."
"Certainly will, you do the same," said Margaret.
Harry glanced around the outside as he prepared to step back inside. Hermione had walked over to the directory Margaret had pointed at. "Harry, the deepest catacombs have no lights. It says that once you reach the fourth break, there are torches on the walls or you need to bring a flashlight. Who let's people wander through catacombs in the dark?" she asked
Harry knew that this wasn't the last time they would be here. It was going to require some reading and planning to get through the maze that was now open. "What does it say about people going through those areas? Are they allowed?"
"Yes, Harry. I think that many archaeologists probably do research here. All work to restore the place since 1998 has been done by philanthropic organizations that pay construction crews to shore up the walls. It appears that about three hundred meters or so into tunnels is where work stopped and there are barricades. I think what we're looking for is before that," said Hermione.
"Why is that?" asked Harry.
"Because, if I'm not mistaken, your dream mentions that she is in a crypt of some sort. The last two rooms in the catacombs are reported here to have the oldest known mausoleum-type crypts in all of England," said Hermione. "And according to the directory, the barricades are probably right where we saw the rubble falling in from the surface. Remember?"
"Sure, that makes sense," said Harry. He looked at the maps in the directory. The tunnels just after the place where electric lights end seemed to twist and turn through dozens of smaller rooms. All of the tunnels through those rooms eventually wound there way into the last room where the map ended. "One wrong turn in there and you could look for hours, even a day or more."
"Yes, Harry, but you made it through the maze in the Triwizard Tournament. I know you can do this. Plus, we can Disapparate to the hotel room if we get really lost and start over," said Hermione. "I wouldn't want to do that, but we could."
Harry couldn't argue with Hermione's logic. He had successfully navigated the maze even if the fake Moody had cleared the obstacles out of the way. He had found his way through. And she was right. Unlike muggles who might get lost in the maze of crypts and whatever else they might encounter, they did have a means of escape that would assure their safety.
Unhappily, Harry looked at the map before him and tried to keep it locked in his memory. But as usual, Hermione surprised him again. "Watch this, Harry." She went behind him and opened the backpack. She came back around holding her wand or at least he thought it was her wand. It looked more like an expensive pen or pencil. "Transferre mappa," she said in Latin. Quickly, much like Rita Skeeter's quill, the pen or wand began drawing an amazing replica of the catacombs map Hermione was looking at. It took a minute or more to complete.
"What was that, Her…Jane?" he asked in a nervous tone. He continued in a hushed voice. "I thought you said no magic. Don't call me that anymore either." He realized she had called him Harry at least a half-dozen or more times in the last few minutes.
Hermione looked at Harry carefully. "What's wrong with you?" she asked.
Harry couldn't explain why, but a sudden rush of fear had spread through him. They had begun acting as if there were no danger in that museum and it had raised his awareness to peak levels. "Jane, we're getting too comfortable around here. Something tells me we were right to be cautious. Let's not forget that just because we didn't have a single incident yet, that it doesn't mean we are free of danger."
He could see that his mood had put things in perspective for her for the moment. He was surprised that it was him reminding her and not the other way around. He took a deep breath and realized that she had just done an amazing bit of magic. To passersby, if there had been any, it would have looked like she was copying down the map on a yellow pad. What still bothered him was that they were using their real names. "That was awesome, Sweetie, but we need to remember the names we are using," he said quietly. "Maybe I overreacted a bit, but do you understand."
Hermione's expression had changed several times over the past few moments... Harry realized that from fear she'd gone to a bit of anger and now she seemed to understand. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I got overanxious trying to show you what I learned. I was showing off." He could sense her disgust with herself for doing it.
"Well, it's over now and we can get on with it, can't we?" he said as topic changer.
"Yeah, sure. Let's get to the beginning this should actually be fun, James," she said emphasizing his name. "Maybe I should call you Jimmy." She whispered.
"Whatever" said Harry, "as long as you don't call me you-know-who." He laughed at the irony and double entendre.
Hermione giggled. "Jeez, Jimmy. That's a scary way of putting it."
They put the bicycles around the back of the building. They put the locks that came with them around a pipe entering the building and then around the bicycles. "Muggle security," laughed Harry nervously as he realized he'd said the word `muggle' out loud. He realized how easy it was to fall into familiar patterns and felt a little regret at having been so harsh with Hermione. He noticed that she ignored his mistake. He was grateful.
They wound there way from the front of the building toward the entrance a little to the southeast it. It took a couple minutes as they danced through the recent markers in the cemetery. They could have been there in half the time if they'd walked straight through, but somehow this seemed respectful. Harry wondered how he hadn't noticed the largest structure besides the building itself until now. It was a large stone with carved faces on each side. On the left was a fierce looking bearded man with rugged features and on the right was a demure looking woman with fine features and shawl over her shoulders. Both faces were expressionless. Between them was an archway that led down a set of stairs.
Harry took a cursory look around at the grounds. His heart started to race. He wanted to know what the area looked like now. For some reason, it seemed important to know that no one saw them enter. Hermione looked around with him. "Harry…pfft…I'm sorry. Jimmy, are you okay?"
"Yeah, sure. There is something about making sure we're alone here that struck me," he said. "Let's go."
There first steps down into the catacombs were met with a fell wind originating in the tunnel that made them both shiver. It was the fact that it had unmistakably come from inside that unnerved them both. "Oh, jeez Harry, that was weird." Hermione's hand seemed ice cold now in Harry's hand.
"Your hand is cold, Hermione," he said.
"Yours too," said Hermione.
Harry wondered if they were pure muggles and not magical in nature whether anything they had just felt would have occurred. With each step, he became more convinced that a muggle would never have noticed. There were forces alive in this tunnel that only old magic could explain. "Were you ready for anything like this?" asked Harry.
"You're joking, right? I'm ready to turn around and run like I saw a ghost already," wavered Hermione's voice. "If I'm sure of one thing, it's that down here our identities are not secret. Our magic is no match for whatever controls this place."
Harry felt it too. He looked at Hermione and realized that since they'd entered the archway there was no hint of her blonde hair or changed features. He had been seeing through the illusion for the most part since they had stopped the bikes at the gazebo, but now he couldn't remember what the disguise looked like. He didn't feel the same foreboding that he did near the elder Riddle's grave the night Lord Voldemort returned; but it was very similar to the feeling he had when they'd seen the silvery blood of the unicorn in Forbidden Forest in their first year at Hogwarts.
Harry took out his wand from his pants pocket. It shimmered for several seconds from tip to handle until only the tip was red. It was now the only warm thing he'd touched since they entered. "Hermione, take out your wand," said Harry.
Hermione pulled hers from her sweatshirt pocket. It shimmered from her touch as well and glowed orange at the tip. "It's warm, Harry. But only a little bit. I can feel the heat radiating from yours."
Hermione took Harry's arm with her free hand. Harry felt better feeling her touch and knowing that she was close. He knew that he would be wary of any movement. By Harry's reckoning they couldn't have gone more than twenty-five feet from the stairs. He turned and looked back. He was right. He and Hermione had been so transfixed on the fear growing in their chests that they hadn't looked back at all.
"Harry is there anything wrong?" asked Hermione looking back with him.
"No, I was just thinking of how pathetic we are now just twenty-five feet from the stairs with the lights on," laughed Harry nervously. "For Merlin's sake we've encountered real ghosts and unspeakable things with tentacles in the dark of the Department of Mysteries. What the hell is wrong with us?"
Hermione didn't look so sure that she wanted to act any braver than she was doing at the moment. "Harry, if you don't let me hold your arm, I'm leaving," she said with a strained giggle. "The fact that your hand is icy cold down here gives me the creeps."
He realized that for the moment she wasn't kidding. "Let's just walk a little faster. Pull out that map thing you made."
Hermione fumbled around in the small fanny pack that she kept her money and notes in. "Okay, I got it," she said nervously. She looked at if for a second and pointed right. "That way."
"Do you hear that?" asked Harry.
"I've heard something like chattering ever since we've been down here, Harry. Are you just now hearing it?" she asked.
For the first time his laugh seemed genuine. "I wasn't sure I wasn't imagining that either one of use wasn't grinding our teeth in fear," he said. "I'm serious."
Hermione looked at him in silence. "You think you're funny, don't you?"
"I'm serious, Hermione. I didn't pay attention because it was that or something worse. At the time, something worse wasn't an option," he said seriously. "I wasn't prepared for any of this either remember."
Hermione's scowl changed to lifted brows of surprise as she shrugged as if hearing unexpected news. "I'm sorry. I thought you were making fun of me."
"No, but now I do hear it. So let's listen," he said.
They moved through the tunnel corridor into room. On the walls there were plaques marking the graves of people inside the walls. "I thought you said that the crypts weren't until the last two rooms," said Harry.
"I did, but maybe I misunderstood and they're actually more like vaults there or something," replied Hermione quickly. "Now that I think of it, what else would we find down here?"
Harry saw something moving just ahead of him. "Stupefy," he yelled. He heard a squeal and in the shadows of the faint light around him he saw half a dozen rats. The one he'd just blasted lay motionless against the far wall. He could feel Hermione shiver behind him.
"Harry? What if Wormtail is hidden in here somewhere?" she whispered.
"Do you remember how to do the spell to make an Animagus reveal himself?" he whispered in return.
"I think so," she said. "It's a silent incantation."
"I know and sometimes I suck at doing those kinds of spells," said Harry. "Try it on the rat that was moving around. The others seem content with whatever they're doing." Harry was sure he would kill Wormtail if he saw him. He shook as he pointed his wand from rat to rat. He hated the lighting. It was bright enough to see the entrances to the rooms and the tunnels but anything along the walls could hide until they were almost upon it.
Hermione tried the restoring charm on the rat. Her wand gave off a momentary blue-white glow and then it was swallowed back into the wand. "Well, Harry, I think I got it right. I remember it's supposed to be blue-white light, but since there is no Animagus to use it on it fizzled."
"See, that's why I need you. I wouldn't have remembered that," said Harry honestly. "Well I need you for more than that, but you know…"
Hermione felt a sense of well-being for a moment and tried it on every rat in the room with the same result. With that done, she took Harry's arm again. "Harry, we'll be here forever if we don't get moving."
"See, remember what I said," he laughed a bit. Hermione joined him. They were still wary of their surroundings, but the encounter with the rat seemed to take a little of the edge off both of them.
As a precaution, Hermione used the charm on every rat they saw. Luckily they'd joked there were only a few every couple of rooms. Most of the rooms they passed through had two crypts. Some had as many as six. They'd stopped a couple of times to try to brush off names. One had the surname "Smyth". Another had the surname "Wilson". Still another had the surname "Wilcoxson".
Harry looked at his watch. They'd entered roughly an hour before. They were now getting close to the final two big rooms. They had two smaller ones to go through. "Hermione, is there anything we should be aware of from your notes?" asked Harry as they made it through he first of those rooms.
"What do you remember from your dream, Harry?" asked Hermione.
"I only remember the traps that were set on the case around the cup, that's it." He closed his eyes to get a better look.
"The only description was that these rooms were blocked off once workers got to them," said Hermione. "We guessed it was because we've reached the other end of the cemetery. That's all I know."
They stood silent just outside the entrance to the one room separating them from the last place they could look. Harry wondered briefly if they should have been reading the surnames on every tomb and crypt they'd passed. But something told him that what they were looking for was larger than any two they'd seen so far. If nothing else, that was what he'd been expecting.
Hermione looked at him carefully. "Well, Harry Sweetheart. I think we're almost there."
"CRACK!"
Hermione clutched Harry close. They both knew what they had just heard. Harry shuffled to the corner furthest from the entrance to that small room. Someone had Apparated into the very room where they were going.
"CRACK!"
"I am not pleased," said a woman's voice that Harry recognized immediately.
"Ah, but it is not your place to be pleased or displeased with the decisions of the Dark Lord," said another voice that made Hermione nearly scream but for the fear of being found.
"After these many years, I am reviled at the notion of sharing where I brought his most prized possession," said Bellatrix.
"I warned you when you witnessed the Unbreakable Vow to protect Malfoy that I had favor with Dark Lord beyond your wildest dreams, Bellatrix," said Snape in his most arrogant tone. "Now, it seems that he is bestowing me with the honor of protecting his most prized possessions."
"Enough of your gloating, Severus. It is in there," she said. "Has he told you of its protections? He has shown me."
"Tsk, tsk Bellatrix," said Snape. "Haven't I proven that I have no equal among our comrades? The Dark Lord has brought you to witness the test of my powers. To give you a glimpse of why he has placed me above all others, he has asked me to remove the Cup from its place and renew the curse upon it."
"Yes, he told me Snape. He confided that should you fail it is because of your smugness and disloyalty," said Bellatrix. "I myself think you shall fail. I know of no other who has been so willing to cower to the seat of power on both sides. I will never trust you."
"Nonetheless, you will get your wish in this very moment to test your theory," said Snape.
The breeze that had struck them when they entered the tunnels rose again.
There was a noise that resembled silverware being bunched together. It repeated several times. Hermione was holding her hand out and extending her fingers after each click, showing Harry how many. Six, she'd counted.
What followed was the unmistakable creaking of a door. By the sound, it was moving on heavy hinges. After several seconds, Bellatrix spoke. "There it is, Severus."
"Ah, yes, this is very valuable. Do you even know what it is?" asked Snape.
"Of course, you pompous prat, it is a relic of Hufflepuff House at Hogwarts…the Hufflepuff Cup," she said gloatingly. "Do you think that for nearly forty years of being its custodian, I would not have researched its significance? For all your faults, Severus, I would not have thought underestimating your rivals would be one of them," said Bellatrix.
"Bellatrix, do you know nothing of our Master? He does not want rivalry amongst us. It speaks to selfishness and loathing that could one day be turned against him. He wants subservience and unswerving execution of his orders. That is why I am here today. Behold!"
The breeze they had felt twice before now swirled with such force that both Harry and Hermione were plastered against the wall. "You have been sent here because I am to rid our number of a cancer that is infecting us. Imperio!"
Harry heard a whimper at first over the din of the swirling winds. The skin on his arms crawled. "Open it, my Dear Bellatrix. Yes, you will do your Master's bidding...for I am your Master now."
Simultaneously, the wind quit blowing and a shriek of pain began. He and Hermione clattered to the ground. In shock, they sat still hoping they had not been heard over the terrifying, bloodcurdling screams of Bellatrix Lestrange.
The silhouette of a man appeared so suddenly at the corner of the room that Harry hardly had time to raise his wand. But hatred beyond anything he had ever felt welled in him, he would kill him. But he was too late.
"Incarcerous," bellowed Snape. Hermione screamed as both she and Harry were bound so tightly together that their cheeks hurt and their wands fell to the floor.
"Welcome, Potter. To think that I thought I would have to find you to finish the job," said Snape. "Oh, don't you look cozy."
Harry had never before imagined the horror of facing Snape tied with Hermione unprotected and the bloodcurdling screams of torture in his ears. The tears ran unchecked down his face.
"I love you, Hermione. I love you." Harry thought he saw the first genuine smile of joy on Snape's face at the very moment he told Hermione he loved her.
-->