Disclaimer: I own none of this. I'm making no money from anything on this page. Any similarities in this story and other authors' stories is purely coincidental unless otherwise stated. These characters belong to JK Rowling, I'm just playing with them.
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In Memories.
"Oh, Harry! I've been worried sick about you!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, engulfing Harry in a bone-crushing hug the following morning at breakfast. "Oh, you're far to thin. Look at you, have you eaten at all in the past month? Come, come, have some breakfast, dear." Harry only nodded in response. Mrs. Weasley pulled away from her hug to study him some more. "And have you been getting any sleep at all? Once you've finished your breakfast, you're to go right up to bed," Mrs. Weasley said before continuing to bustle around the kitchen. Hermione thought it strange that Mrs. Weasley hadn't noticed anything else wrong with Harry than him being tired and skinny. There was, most definitely something wrong with Harry, and hoped the rest of the house would realize that he didn't need to be smothered with reassurances that everyone would be there for him.
Hermione smiled when Harry took the seat right of her at the otherwise empty kitchen table. "Good morning, Harry," he didn't respond, but she smiled at him anyway, remembering the way he thought about her feelings the night before. She simply couldn't believe that he was mature enough to think of her feelings before his own. 'Ron would never have done such a thing, he was only worried about what personal gain he could get out of a situation,' Hermione thought, immediately feeling guilty for even thinking such a thing. Whether her thought was true or not, comparing Harry and Ron wasn't fair to either of them, because she knew which would always win.
Hermione sat observing Mrs. Weasley and found that she, too, found something different in Harry. It must have been a mother's intuition, but whatever 'it' was proved Hermione wrong in thinking she would be the only one to see the difference. It was obvious Mrs. Weasley knew something was off; she was looking at him differently. It wasn't pity, but a look of understanding that this war had taken a very serious turn for the worse. Whether this was the reason Harry was in this condition remained to be seen. One thing Mrs. Weasley was always sure would help was a nice, big, homemade meal, and in this case Hermione agreed one hundred percent.
When Hermione noticed the low rumbling somewhere above them of Ron, Ginny and the twins making their way downstairs, she and Harry were almost finished with their breakfast. She was thankful for this in part because she knew Harry had eaten all of the extra-large servings Mrs. Weasley had set in front of him, but mostly because he'd have to spend little time with the rest of the Weasley's. She looked to her right to see Harry paying no attention to the growing noise. The kitchen door burst open as the four Weasley children came rushing into the kitchen. Hermione didn't miss the fact that neither Ron nor Ginny greeted her a good morning. All four were at their seats before the twins realized Harry was there.
"Oy, Harry! How's it going, mate?" Fred asked as if Harry turning up overnight was completely normal. Hermione realized that it was quite the normal experience for them. But, by the way Ginny reacted; one would have to assume that he had just returned after being gone years.
"HARRY!" she shrieked and ran around the table to wrap her arms around as best she could when he didn't stand. "How I've missed you so. I was so worried that you were in some kind of trouble after you didn't answer any of my owls." Ron looked annoyedly at Ginny for not allowing him to greet his best mate. "Why didn't you answer my owls?" her voice quieting so her mother couldn't hear. "You weren't serious when you broke up with me were you? That was just in the heat of the moment, right?"
Still, Harry refused to speak. Hermione felt a grim sense of satisfaction in knowing she was the only one who had gotten him to say anything. She barely kept a neutral expression when Harry stood and took his dishes to the sink and walked out of the room. Hermione watched as Ron and Ginny quickly followed Harry out of the kitchen.
"Well, he isn't in any mood for our dear siblings is he, Fred?" George joked quietly.
"He most certainly is not, my good brother. Why exactly is that, Hermione?"
"What makes you think I would have any idea?" Hermione asked evasively.
"Well you are--" Fred began.
"his best friend," George finished.
"I wouldn't say his best friend," she retorted.
"Well then it's a good thing we aren't asking you," Fred snarked. "Everyone can see the two of you are better friends. Ron is a good friend, but he's gotten his head stuck up is arse too often."
"Fine, if you must know, Harry broke up with Ginny at Dumbledore's funeral to protect her from Voldemort. Then with being stuck at that place for a month, he just isn't himself anymore. And to be perfectly honest, I don't think protection was the only reason he split with your sister. I think there was something entirely different going through his mind. She's only going to drive him further away when she keeps trying to force things."
"That does sound like our sweet little sis, spoiled to the bone. And a fat lot of good it's doing her, isn't it?" George replied.
"You know what? I don't give the two of you enough credit. You're much more perceptive than you let on," Hermione said, sounding impressed.
"Well we have to be; otherwise it would be hard to know which pranks to pull on which people," Fred explained, "like we would use Harry to pull a prank on you. He's your one blind spot. But we would never involve you in a prank for Harry, we'd be dead men should anything happen to you."
"And don't you forget it. Just don't be afraid to lend some of your insight to Ron, he needs all he can muster," Hermione retorted. "I think I may need to rescue your siblings. So if you don't mind, I'll see you guys later."
As Hermione climbed the stairs, she could make out voices, but not words. Harry had surprised her the night before by choosing to stay in Sirius's old bedroom. 'I suppose it's his way of staying close," Hermione thought." Or the furthest away from everyone else." As she moved nearer to the door, she heard the tone of Ginny's voice and it immediately put her on the defensive. Ginny sounded very harsh as she attempted to force answers out of Harry.
She should have known by now that if Harry didn't want to give answers, than he wasn't going to give them. Hermione heard only a few words before bursting through the door.
"Harry, I demand to know why you haven't answered any of my owls!" Ginny shouted. Harry was, of course, refusing to even look in her direction.
"That's enough!" Hermione barked, before resuming her calm, logical tone. "I think that you and Ron ought to leave. It's apparent that this is not the time for you to be doing this."
Ginny looked like she wanted nothing more than to hex Hermione into oblivion. In fact, her hand actually flinched toward her hidden wand, but was cut off by Ron, who sneered his response.
"I don't think it's any of your business. Now why don't you leave and find some book to read, since it's apparent that that's all you do anyway." Harry shot off the bed, at the malice in Ron's voice, his fists clenched, facing Ron, and Hermione behind him. In her own opinion, Hermione thought that Ron deserved to be hit, but her logical side made her reach out and pull Harry away, moving with much more ease than she had anticipated. He remained, however, in a very threatening stance toward Ron.
"No Harry, that's alright," she turned to Ron, taking a deep breath to prepare for what he was forcing her to say. "Ron, I told you from the beginning that if anything was going to happen between us, it was going to happen very slowly. I wanted to be sure that we would work out alright, and not rush into anything that would ruin our friendship. I was never sure that what I was feeling for you was what you were feeling for me, I thought that you understood that. You should know me better than to think that I would be as… physical… as Lavender was. I also explained why that was in a very mature manner. Yet you still tried to move faster than I ever wanted. So you have absolutely no right to be angry at me about a situation that has less to do with you than anyone else. This," She gestured toward Harry and Ginny, "has even less to do with you.
"Oh, and if you ever speak to me in that manner ever again you will no longer be able to have children, do you understand me?" Hermione addressed him in an eerily calm tone.
"Something that involves the mistreatment of my sister is my business," Ron said, whose face was scarlet with rage, thought better than to dismiss Hermione's threat, and left the room. His fear of Hermione trumping his anger toward her.
"Now, Ginny," Hermione began as if the preceding hadn't occurred, "I understand that you want answers, but Harry isn't in any mood to give them. I suggest that you stop trying to force them before you say something you regret like your oh-so-wonderful brother."
"No, I refuse to leave. I do want answers, and I am going to get them," Ginny proclaimed. "I think you should heed your own advice and get out before you do something you'll regret."
"I'd regret but one thing, Ginny, and that would be having to resort to magic to force you from this room. Now leave!" Hermione barked. Ginny glanced once at Harry who was looking at Hermione peculiarly. Then, looking like quite the spoiled brat, stomped out of Harry's room in a fit.
"I'm sorry I yelled at her," Hermione bashfully turned toward Harry. "I just couldn't let her keep badgering you like she was. If you want to be alone, they should understand that," Hermione paused, but the silence grew longer, and awkward.
"Right, well I'll let you get back to sleep. I'll be in the library across the hall if you need anything."
She turned and took a step toward the door before Harry grabbed her by the elbow and gently pulled her back around. He didn't say anything at first. He took a moment to regard her like he had the night before. The look on his face told her he was indecisive about something. "Harry? What's wrong?" the concern she felt etched into her voice.
He quickly shook his head, indicating nothing was wrong. "Will you stay?" he asked quietly.
"You want me to stay here while you sleep," Hermione asked, confused. Again he shook his head quickly.
"I… I won't sleep. I couldn't." Hearing him say that he couldn't sleep had scared Hermione. His realization brought whatever psychological issues he was facing to a whole other level in her eyes.
"Please tell me that you're not having nightmares again."
"I can't," he said sadly.
"What are they of, Harry?" Hermione asked quietly.
"I… I do things that I never thought…"
"Oh," Hermione breathed. He was scared of himself, what he could become. She had assumed his problem had been directly related to Voldemort. Never what he imagined himself doing. If he could just open up a bit more, this would be so much easier to help him with. "Harry, I want you to know that there is no way you could ever turn into him. It's that simple; you couldn't and I wouldn't let you," she told him, figuratively putting her foot down.
"It's not just that," Harry said so quietly Hermione could hardly hear him, "I'm more… I'm way more powerful than I was before. I can do things like he can. My magic is like his now."
"How exactly has your magic changed?"
"I can manipulate magic now. No wands, no words, I just make things happen. I think it happened because I feel so much hatred for Voldemort… and Snape." Harry looked as scared as Hermione had ever seen him.
"Your magic is nothing like Voldemort's. You would never use magic the way He has. Don't you remember what Dumbledore said, that it's your choices that separate you from Voldemort. You are his complete opposite, Harry. The nature of your choices will never change; the real Harry will always be the boy that I met on the Hogwarts Express. You don't realize how great you truly are, Harry."
"Thanks," He muttered, but she could tell he really didn't believe her. At least she had said what she wanted to, and he had heard it. She knew that was enough to make him think on it.
Suddenly, she realized, he knew his magic had changed, which meant only one thing, "Harry! You've been doing underage magic!" he nodded. "That was a very stupid thing to do. You could have given Scrimgeour opportunity to seriously black mail you. You know that he could have forced you to take the Ministry's side in the war. That, or he could've snapped your wand!"
"It's not like I need it," he replied with a cheeky smile. It was the first time she had seen him smile since before Dumbledore's funeral.
"That's hardly the point, Harry."
"Well, I wasn't using my wand so they'd have a hell of a time proving that I had done it, and they can't trace wandless magic," Harry countered.
"That's fair enough," she surrendered. Sitting down next to him on the bed and breathe a heavy sigh of relief. She felt that Harry had escaped the immediate danger that his depression could have caused.
She looked around the massive room, in which she had never been. The inside was obviously expanded to much larger than the house could possible hold. There was only one way to describe the room: Slytherin. The room was black and emerald. The colors were everywhere from the drapery around the four-poster, canopy bed to the thick, lush carpet. All the furniture in the room was ebony with large emeralds set stylish locations. The bed that they were sitting on was enormous, substantially larger than any 'king-sized' bed she'd ever seen. Had the room not been styled after the Slytherin common room, it would have been her dream room. At one end of the vast space was a personal library with an ornate, ebony desk which was larger than any of the professors' at Hogwarts. On the opposing side of the room was the master bath with black and emerald marble surfaces with silver fixtures. Next to the bath was a large, walk-in wardrobe larger than most bedrooms she had been in. 'That would be perfect to convert into a baby's room for whoever's living here permanently,' Hermione thought.
"Did you mean what you said before?" Harry asked quietly, drawing her attention away from the magnificent room.
"Which part?"
"What you said to Ron."
"That we're pretty much done?" Hermione asked, he nodded. "Yeah, there just wasn't anything there for me. Ron's great and I love him, just not the way he wanted me to."
"Don't I know how that feels."
"So things with you and Ginny really are done? She thought that you broke it off because of the emotion of the funeral."
"No, we're done. At first that was why I had done it, but now that I've had time away from her to think about it I don't want to get back together with her," Harry paused, thinking of the words to go with his thoughts. "There's just too much distance between us. I mean, she just seems so far away from where I am right now. I don't think I could ever go back to the way I was before. And I certainly can't wait for her to catch up to me. Then to top it all off, she told me that she liked me because I wouldn't be happy unless I was fighting Voldemort. Like she was with me for the image that I have.
"I mean I understand and can except that from people I don't know, but from some one so close, I don't know. It was like she was lying to me the whole time. What else did she lie about. I don't know who she is anymore. Hell, I guess I never knew her."
"Don't every try to justify what she did, Harry," Hermione told him. After a long moment Hermione laughed disbelievingly, "It seems rather ironic that a situation this ugly took such a long time to develop."
Harry gave a short laugh, "Yeah, and it's ironic that I just had this conversation. I avoid feelings like the plague."
"Why don't you get some sleep, Harry," Hermione suggested. "And if you don't mind I'd like to stay and check out your library. It looks like it has all the Black family favourites in it."
"You know I would never mind. Make yourself comfortable, you'll always be welcome here." Hermione battled to keep the tears from her eyes after his simple statement. Even though she knew all was well between them, she was still moved at how quickly he seemed to forgive an entire year.
She moved to the first book shelf and pulled the first book that caught her eye: Animagi Magical Theory. She returned to find Harry just pulling down the comforter on his bed. "Ooh, silk sheets! Those are lovely!" Hermione gushed at the expensive bedding.
"They're alright," Harry shrugged.
"Well, alright then. I'll be quiet and you have a good kip." Harry rolled over and placed his glasses on the night table before settling deeply into his covers. Hermione walked over to the large desk and muttered a silencing charm on it before searching through the drawers. In the last drawer she found the second mirror Harry had told them about. For a long time she stared at her reflection, thinking of the things Harry had just told her. It was easy to see why someone else would feel so evil, but no one would ever doubt Harry's dedication to the Light.
Hermione was startled out of her thoughts by a loud snore from Harry, before he returned to his ordinary, barely audible snores. Hermione chuckled a bit as she picked up her book, moved quietly to one of the soft, plush chairs near the library nook.
After about an hour Hermione's attention was drawn to Harry, who was beginning to trash about and mumble incoherently. She swiftly closed her book and moved to the edge of his bed. She saw that he quickly developed a cold sweat and had begun to mummer "no" every few seconds. She found his hand and linked her fingers with his. He immediately sensed the hand and immediately increased the strength of his grip.
"No… No, don't make me do it… I can't, not her… I won't do it, you bastard!… NO! Leave her alone…" Fear gripped at Hermione's heart. She had never heard Harry beg the way he was in this nightmare. She moved to brush the sweaty hair off his forehead, but pulled her hand back sharply. His scar was on fire. It was literally white-hot.
"Harry!" she whispered loudly. "Harry, you need to wake up. Come on, Harry," she squeezed his hand harder, while beginning to gently smooth back his hair.
"NO! NO! RUN!… HERMIONE!" Harry yelled snapping awake.
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A/N: Inspiration: Shinedown's In Memories. Thanks to those of you who reviewed. I have the first few chapters written and I'm only changing a few things here and there. So, hopefully I'll have those up before Christmas, then perhaps a few more before heading back to BSU to start serving my time in the architecture building. 'Til next time… BEAR DOWN to all you Chicago fans out there. Sweetness is always with us.