Chapter Seven
Hagrid's tea was foul. Harry suspected it might have had something to do with the gamekeeper's shaking hands as he had added tea leaves to the pot using a trowel rather than a spoon. The water had been piping hot, direct from the roaring fire in the grate, and it was tinged with a strange harshness that Harry thought might have been Firewhiskey. All in all it was probably the worst cup of tea he had ever tasted.
Harry had been at Hagrid's for a day or so. He had been taken there directly from the school as Hagrid would have been unable to enter Grimmauld Place without Harry's permission. He had woken during the night but in pain so great that he couldn't even get up from bed. He had taken a foul potion brewed quickly by Hermione and slept again, feeling slightly better in the morning where an all-over ache had replaced the burning pain in his bones. Hermione was not there to be thanked.
Hagrid told Harry she had left after brewing the potion, not even staying to see him take it. When Harry asked where she had gone and why, he received no answer; Hagrid, it seemed, couldn't find the words to describe it.
`Is she coming back?' Harry had asked.
`I don' know,' said Hagrid. `She was pretty upset. She was all pale and didn' say much. Jus' made that you're drinking and left. Didn' even say goodbye.'
`That's not like her,' said Harry. `Did seeing Voldemort as me upset her that much?'
`I don' think it was that, Harry,' said Hagrid. `It was doin' them curses on ya. She had to hurt ya, nearly kill ya to get him outta ya. Can' ave been easy for her. Poor Hermione, she probably blames herself for how ya are now.'
Harry forced himself to sit up, which was no mean feat in his condition. He downed what was left of the ointment-potion and winced at the foul taste. He hadn't considered the effect on Hermione of what she'd done to destroy the Horcrux. He tried to imagine himself performing the Unforgivable Curses on her, wondering if he'd have been able to do it. His heart panged at the thought.
`How could I do that to her, Hagrid?' said Harry ruefully. `I shouldn't have asked her to do that. No friend should have to.'
`No normal friend would have,' said Hagrid. `But what you an' Hermione have got is a bit more special than that, I think.'
`I doubt that anymore,' said Harry, though he warmed at Hagrid's words. `What have I done?'
`What you had to do,' said Hagrid simply. `What people like you and Dumbledore always do. The kind of things great men have to - turn death into a fightin' chance to live.'
Harry choked back a lump in his throat. Hagrid was comparing him to Dumbledore, a man he looked up to almost like a God? The cabin was feeling hot all of a sudden.
`I have to make it up to her, make her see that it wasn't her fault,' said Harry. `I hope she'll forgive me.'
`Don' think she blames you, Harry,' said Hagrid who was now peeling potatoes into a huge vat. `Could be something else.'
`Like what?'
`Hermione's a good girl, always had her heart in the right place. But she had to do them evil curses, and she did `em. Cant have bin easy for her. Might be she didn't know she had it in her to do them things, and to you an'all. Or maybe she was willing to do `em because it was you, her mind might be all messed up.'
`I have to get up and go to her,' said Harry pushing the patchwork quilt aside.
`You'll do no such thing,' said Hagrid. `Hermione said you're to stay here till you're well and I reckon the same. Gotta get fit before you get up.'
Harry knew it was useless to argue. Hagrid was stronger than your average troll and getting away from him was as close to impossible as you could get. And using magic against him was out of the question. Reluctantly, Harry slumped back down to the bed and tried to ignore the growing sensation of guilt building within him.
* * *
It was several days before Harry felt strong enough to leave Hagrid's cabin and this was only to walk the grounds nearby for some air. Despite the stiffness and pain Harry still felt he couldn't help but admire the power of Hermione for being able to inflict it. If he ever turned to the Dark side he'd definitely want her as one of his allies. The thought of Hermione stung Harry as much as the pain she'd caused him. She hadn't been back to visit since the night she left and Harry was both concerned and saddened by her absence. He missed her more than he thought was healthy and felt a strange vulnerability in being removed from her for so long.
The Hogwart's grounds were beginning to change now. September was fast approaching and any students who wished to return to Hogwarts for a new term would be doing so soon. Harry felt it with a sad regret that he wouldn't be among them, that the school would no longer be a home and safe haven for him. Without Dumbledore the place wasn't any safer than the average wizard dwelling. Indeed, as a past target for Voldemort it wasn't impossible that he would make an attempt to seize control of the school again, making it perhaps more unsafe than most places.
So it was with a feeling of finality that Harry said goodbye to Hagrid the next day. He impressed himself with his acting skills employed in convincing his first friend in the Wizarding world that he was well enough to leave. It took much more composure to contain his feelings than hide the discomfort he was still in.
`I'm going to go then,' said Harry. `Thanks…for everything. For all of it.'
`You're talking like this is the last time we're gonna see each other,' said Hagrid, his beetle-black eyes crinkling in a smile.
`Where I'm going, it might well be,' said Harry. Hagrid looked at him.
`Now listen to me, Harry Potter,' he said sternly. `You go off an' do what you gotta do but you come back. You'd better. I already lost too many good people to that foul bastard and I don't want him having you as well. You finish him, but don't get finished yourself, you hear me?'
`I'll try,' said Harry quietly.
Hagrid stepped up and drew Harry into a lung-busting hug. Despite being a decent height for his age Harry still only reached as far as Hagrid's midriff. He felt a giant teardrop splash onto his forehead and forced himself to pull away.
`I have to go,' he said. `You take care, Hagrid. If anything happens to me I want you to look after the others. Take them away somewhere safe. If any of us survive I want them safe if I'm gone.'
`Don' say tha, Harry!' said Hagrid through great sobs.
`Promise me, Hagrid.'
Hagrid could only nod. Feeling there was little else to say, Harry left the cabin after scratching Fang around his slobbering chops. Outside the cabin he allowed himself to limp up to the castle gates, abandoning all pretence of being well. He doubted seriously he could concentrate on Apparating home so he summoned one of the school brooms to him. It was a battered Cleansweep Five but it would do. He donned his Invisibility Cloak, which went everywhere with him, and he took off.
Flying this broom was not nearly as satisfying as his own. It didn't respond as rapidly to his commands and the flight was not nearly as smooth and it lacked a little in speed. Still, it did the job. Conspicuous by its absence was the feeling of freedom and euphoria he normally associated with flying. This was sombre and bland, about as energising and exciting as an average bus ride.
It was dark when he touched down outside Grimmauld Place and Harry was stiff from sitting so long on the broom. He was also slightly damp having flown through gathering cloud just over Oxford. Harry vanished the broom and made his way gingerly up the steps and into the house. He realised how hungry he was as he passed the kitchen and decided to put off the hot bath he'd been dreaming of for the past hour or so in favour of some food.
He had just thrown some bacon into a sizzling pan when he jumped as the door opened behind him.
`Harry? What are you doing here?'
`Nice to see you too, Hermione,' said Harry, a smiling. `You scared me to death!'
As soon as he said this he knew he had done something wrong. A terrified, haunted look spilled into Hermione's eyes and Harry had the feeling it wasn't a new look for her.
`What the hell is Hagrid playing at, letting you go before you were well enough!' she said shrilly. `I'll kill him!'
`It isn't his fault,' said Harry placatingly. `I had to get out of there. Any more of his rock cakes and I'd have no teeth left.'
Hermione, it seemed, was in no humour for humour.
`Very funny, Harry,' she snapped. `You are in no state to be out of bed. You need rest, I was very specific about that to Hagrid. Ooh, he has a lot to answer for.'
`Hermione will you calm down!'
`No I will not,' she said in a voice which suggested she was about as far from calm as humanly achievable. `And why are you cooking?'
`Um, I'm hungry?' said Harry warily.
`You are?' she said, her tone softening. `Well, of course you are. Here, let me.'
`No, I'm fine. I can do it.'
`Fine. Don't let me do anything to help you,' she said bitterly. `Scared I'm going to poison you, are you?'
Harry, as was his way, cottoned on at last. `Oh, I see. I get it now. Right, lets sort this out now. Will you sit with me?'
Harry beckoned her to a chair at the table, which she sat at reluctantly, as though it was against her better judgement. Harry took a seat next to her and stared into her eyes, contemplating his words. He knew whatever he said next would shape how much effort it would take to fix what he had broken.
`Hermione - I'm sorry.'
She glared at him in disbelief. `What?'
`I'm sorry,' Harry repeated. `So, so sorry.'
`F-for what?' she asked, clearly thrown.
`I shouldn't have made you do what you did,' said Harry. `It was the most evil thing I've ever done. I shouldn't have asked you to perform those curses. You shouldn't have had to go through that. It should have been me.'
`Harry, I -,' Hermione began. `What do you mean by that?'
`Just that I should have had to perform the curses. I should be the one dealing with this, not you. Physical pain heals easily enough. It's the other kind that's harder to make better. And I made you go through that. If you hate me, I'll understand.'
`Hate you?' she said desperately. `Why would you think that?'
`Because of what I made you do,' said Harry. `I couldn't even do those curses properly to Bellatrix Lestrange, to Snape. I made you do them to me. I don't know what I did to make you use them but it must have been bad.'
`W-what? You mean - you mean you don't remember? Remember what you said to me?'
`Did I say anything to you?' said Harry. `I only remember being in my body once to tell you to keep doing whatever it was that was driving Voldemort from me. Apart from that my mind is a black hole.'
`You said - oh, it doesn't matter. It was him, he did it. Harry, I want you to know I was trying to hurt it, not you. You believe me, don't you?'
`No.'
`What?'
`I don't believe you, but that's the point,' said Harry. `That's why I knew I could count on you. I knew that you would do whatever it took to win the day. Even if it meant hurting me, even killing me. Normal friends wouldn't have done. I needed someone who was, well…a little more.'
`What does that mean?'
`Hermione,' said Harry, squeezing her hands and leaning in so close he could see her pupils dilating, `you used Avada Kedavra on me but I didn't die. It can't have been the normal spell or I would have died with the Horcrux. Something you put into the curse kept me alive when the piece of Voldemort was killed. You were the only one who could have done that…for me, anyway.'
`Harry…'
The sizzling of the burning bacon broke the mood. Harry got up quickly and put out the flames with a casual flick of his wand. He found himself shivering and realised he was still in his damp clothes. He turned to Hermione who looked deep in thought and was muttering to herself.
`I'm going to take a bath,' said Harry. The words didn't seem to have registered with Hermione who just sat there. Harry shrugged and left, mounting the stairs with considerable effort.
The warm water of the bath was soothing, as was the herbal relaxants mixed into the bubble bath he had added. The room was filled with the aroma of summer flowers and the spacious tub was brimming with blue and pink bubbles. Harry was glad Ron couldn't see this as he might start worrying about certain personal aspects of Harry's personality.
Slipping into the soapy water Harry was unable to contain a satisfied sigh. He closed his eyes as the relaxants enveloped him, targeting all of his aching body parts. It was at times like this that Harry really loved magic. Content and warm, Harry lay back and enjoyed the soothing sensation. Then there was a knock at the door.
`Harry? Can I come in?'
`No, you can't!' said Harry. `I'm in the bath. Hermione!' She hadn't even waited for an answer before opening the door. `Do you mind? I'm sort of busy here.'
`Oh, Harry, I wont look,' she said, a sardonic glint in her eyes. `Besides, you're covered in such pretty bubbles why would I want to look at anything else?'
`Ha ha,' said Harry, covering up his private bits despite the yard or so of thick bubbles shrouding him. `Is there something you especially wanted to say to me?'
`Just about what you said downstairs,' she replied. `About how it was only me who could have used Avada Kedavra on you and not killed you. What did you mean by that?'
As usual, Harry felt quite disarmed that Hermione thought his words as worth memorizing as a text book. Or it could have something to do with his being naked and Hermione barely five feet away.
`Just that you have to really hate someone to do the spell properly and that you and me don't have even one bad feeling for each other. Ron has always been a bit jealous of me, I think if he had the power to AK me properly I might have died. But you, well, we're different, aren't we?'
`We are?'
`I think so,' said Harry. `We've been close for as long as I can remember. It's a different kind of close to what me and Ron have, or used to have. It's what saved me. You hated Voldemort and when you coupled that with what he was making you do to me it was strong enough to make you use the Crucitus Curse and Avada Kedavra. But you had enough good feelings for me to stop you killing me. I think it kept me alive when the Horcrux was destroyed. Dumbledore always told me it was a powerful force but I didn't realise that it could be used in Avada Kedavra. I don't think even Dumbledore knew.'
`What force?' asked Hermione.
`Whatever it is that you feel for me, and I feel for you,' said Harry. `Friendship, or whatever. You wanted to help me so much that you used it in place of hate, which you normally need for the Killing Curse. You wanted it so much that it worked. I'm starting to see that magic is really all about will; if you want something enough, and you have the emotion to do it, it can be done.'
`You aren't making any sense, Harry.'
`I am to me and that's all that matters right now. I just want you to know you did the right thing. I'm alive, you hurt me but its okay. Don't beat yourself up over it.'
`I don't like that I hurt you,' said Hermione. `I couldn't do it again.'
`You could, and that's why I need you,' said Harry. `You're stronger than you think. You never give yourself enough credit unless you see a 112% score at the bottom of anything you do. One day you'll see how amazing you are. You'll have to see things like I do.'
`Y-you think I'm amazing?' said Hermione quietly.
`Absolutely,' said Harry. `Why wouldn't I?'
`Well, you just - you've never said anything like that to me before.'
`I know,' said Harry. `I should have, though, and a long time ago.'
Hermione got up and sat next to the bath. Harry could only just make out the outline of her hair through the bubbles. He jumped as something soft but cold touched his arm. Hermione had reached through the bubble wall and found Harry's forearm on the bath rim.
`Her-Hermione,' Harry stuttered. `What are you doing?'
`Put your arm around me, Harry,' said Hermione. `Please?'
`But I'll get bubbles on your clothes,' Harry pointed out.
`I don't care about that,' said Hermione. `Will you do it, please?'
Harry, squinting through the oily haze of bubbles, found Hermione's shoulder and slipped his arm uncertainly around her neck. She rested her head into the crook of his arm and held his hand in her own. She was rubbing the back of his palm with her thumb and Harry could focus on nothing else. Something very odd was happening and Harry had the desire to run away. This was tempered by an even stronger urge to stay where he was and this had nothing to do with his nakedness. He hoped that Hermione couldn't see through the bubbles now that she was this close. But even this urge wasn't as strong as Harry thought it ought to be.
It was probably due to his arm being extended further than it was designed for but Harry found himself inclined to slip to the side of the bath. Blowing the bubble cloud out of the way he soon found himself looking into the bushy expanse of Hermione's hair. The urge to rest his head against hers was intense and the thought quite frightening. Why did he even want to? There was only one way to find out - do it and see what it felt like.
Harry lowered his head till it was almost touching Hermione's; he could feel individual strands of hair tickling his cheek. With a silent breath he eased forward and met the bouncy crown of Hermione's head. She shook with the contact and gave a barely audible `oh' before pulling Harry's arm tighter around her. They sat like that for several minutes, a period during which Harry was sure he'd had more thoughts in one go than any other time he could recall. Eventually, he had to speak.
`Hermione? What are you thinking?'
`Just things,' she said, sounding as contented as Harry felt.
`Like what?'
`Like what this means,' she said. `And if it's wrong that I like it so much. And why I didn't think of it before. And about what you said about my Avada Kedavra. And if it means what I think it might…'
`You think too much,' said Harry.
Hermione laughed. `You're probably right. And I have to think some more so I'll leave you to your bath before I decide I don't want to leave here. I'll see you downstairs when you're done.'
Hermione disentangled herself from Harry and got up. A moment later the door closed and Harry, trying uselessly to decipher his thoughts, was left to wonder just what the hell was happening to him.
* * *
Hermione was about as un-Hermione-like as Harry could ever remember her being. She flitted between several different states of mind ranging from guilt at what she'd done every time one of Harry's injuries flared up, to abject euphoria if Harry said anything even remotely nice to her. When Harry had come down to breakfast one morning rubbing his shoulder Hermione had been convinced it was a hangover from her curses and spent the entire morning brewing a healing paste before rubbing it into Harry's shoulder for an hour, all the while scolding herself under her breath. For some reason he couldn't fathom, Harry had neglected to tell her that his shoulder had felt fine for ages. On the other hand he felt that an hour applying the cream was far more than was necessary.
Not that he was complaining. On the contrary, he was positively revelling in the new environment. And it was certainly having an effect on the house. Hermione had bought brightly coloured candles to reflect her good mood and charmed them to be extra bright before putting them all around the house. It almost felt like a normal home before long. Add to this Hermione being at Harry's beck and call doing everything from cleaning his room to making him fattening desserts after dinner. One night she also washed his hair while he was in another soothing bubble bath. Despite all the kisses with Cho and Ginny, Harry decided this was by far the most erotic moment of his life.
He did feel guilty about taking advantage of Hermione this way but there was little he could do. Every time he even suggested doing anything for her she went into cloud cuckoo land and practically skipped to whatever she was doing next. He even jokingly suggested that since she had braved washing his hair that he might have a go at hers. She was so flustered at this, however, that she muttered incoherently and blushed so much that she had to leave the room.
In the future Harry felt that such bliss in life couldn't last. When a letter popped out of the fire into Grimmauld Place one afternoon when Harry was watching Hermione darning bizarre elf balaclavas, it was with a surprising lack of trepidation that he opened it. He lazily glanced over the lines, one eye still on the knitting needles. His curiosity was tweaked however when he read the name of Albus Dumbledore. His attention fixed directly, he read on. It turned out to be a short letter.
Mr H. Potter
*& !"£@}^&"> ($:!*
` London.
Harry smirked as he realised even the mail couldn't reveal the address of the old Order HQ.
Dear Mr Potter
R.E. Last will and Testament of A.P.W.B. Dumbledore.
Due to the passing of aforementioned person this execution of the will left by him has been engaged upon. Most aspects have been settled but several matters remain outstanding, the most pressing of which regards a quantity of possessions left to yourself. The contents of an address left to alchemical research are to be passed on to you at the earliest possible opportunity. It has been difficult to locate you and only recently have we found a close friend of Mr Dumbledore's, one M. McGonagall, who is aware of your location. The new owners of the address left in the will are anxious to take up residence but cannot do so until the contents are removed. If you could please call into the Ministry of Magic at the earliest opportunity this matter can be resolved. We are located on Level Five, Office of Magical Law, Hereditary and Obituary Department.
Yours &c.
Asphyxias Bloom.
Harry folded the letter and sat back, shaking slightly. Hermione looked up from her knitting.
`Harry? What's wrong?'
`This,' said Harry, holding the letter out for her. She took it and read, her eyes widening.
`Oh, my, Harry,' she said, astonished. `Dumbledore left you something?'
`Not just something,' said Harry. `A hell of a lot by the sounds of it. A whole house worth of stuff.'
`I wonder what it is.'
`I don't know but I'm going to find out,' said Harry. `Hermione - what's alchemy? I know Dumbledore was into it but what does it do?'
`It turns metals into gold and creates the Elixir of Life.'
`I thought the Philosopher's Stone did that?' said Harry.
`It does, but alchemy is concerned with making the Stone. Only Nicloas Flamel and Dumbledore ever did it properly. He probably left alchemists his house because he asked the only successful alchemist to die and his secret went with him.'
`I have to go and find out what he left me,' said Harry. `What could he have wanted me to have?'
`I don't know, Harry,' said Hermione. `Come on, get your cloak on and we'll go now.'
`You - you don't have to come,' said Harry. `It'll probably be boring.'
`What's the matter, Harry,' said Hermione, `afraid of being seen with me? Besides, the Ministry might be dangerous for you. You might need me.'
`Good point. I cant do the Unforgivable Curses as well as you.'
`Don't say that,' said Hermione in a pitiful voice.
`I'm sorry,' said Harry quickly. `I was only joking.'
`Please don't,' said Hermione. `I don't want to remember it.'
`Okay, I'm sorry.'
`Stop apologising. Come on, lets go.'
A/N: I know nothing much happens in this chapter but I wanted to get something else out before the few people who are reading this forget about it. I've been in Poland for the last week so I haven't been able to write. I'm still not sure where this is going but hopefully I will get some idea in the future then the story will improve as it has some kind of focus. R&R or flame at your will.
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