Disclaimer: I own none of this. I'm making no money from anything on this page. Any similarities in this story to other authors' stories are purely coincidental unless otherwise stated. These characters belong to JK Rowling; I'm just playing with them.
The otherwise stated part: Hermione's parents, or at least their names, are credited to MissAnnThropic and the wonderful world that is Vox Corporis. Or, as she is tickled to read, the Voxiverse.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Here's the weight of the world on my shoulders
Here's the weight of the world on my shoulders
On my shoulders
All alone I pierce the chain
And on and on the sting remains
And dying eyes consume me now
The voice inside screams out loud
I am focused on what I am after
The key to the next open chapter
Cause I found a way to steal the sun from the sky
Long live that day that I decided to fly from the inside
Every day a new deception
Pick your scene and take direction
And on and on I search to connect
But I don't wear a mask and I have no regrets
I am focused on what I am after
The key to the next open chapter
Cause I found a way to steal the sun from the sky
Long live that day that I decided to fly from the inside…"
http://youtube.com/watch?v=_EFZAfwx7rc
Fly From the Inside
Sunday, 29 July
"I do," Bill Weasley had a huge smile plastered on his face as he looked down at his beautiful wife.
"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you Man and Wife. You may kiss the bride."
Harry smiled as he observed the scene unfolding before him. All around, dozens upon dozens of witches and wizards cheered and applauded the union of two of the most loving and caring people Harry knew. For the rest of his life, it would always amaze him that in this desolate time people still had room in their hearts to celebrate love. It gave Harry a bit of hope that maybe this time around Voldemort wouldn't cast as large a shadow as he once did.
Harry knew, however, that this event would be a prime time for Voldemort to strike, and as happy as he was, he felt a bit like Mad-Eye. Harry supposed that was a major point as to why the Delacours were so insistent that the wedding happen deep within the Ministry of Magic itself.
While the Ministry's grandest ballroom was decorated as intricately as Hogwarts had been for the Yule Ball, but as a summer garden of course, it still wasn't the Burrow. Harry could see it in the faces of all the Weasleys, when they first saw the ballroom; they all felt the same as he.
The crowd's laughter pulled Harry from his thoughts, after everyone made their way to the reception area. Harry looked around to find the reason for the laughter; Fred and George were good-naturedly attempting to steal the first dance with Fleur. He could see Ron, butterbeer in hand, standing and laughing with a few of his seldom seen cousins. Harry's gaze traveled over to Charlie and Ginny, both looking on with a somewhat wistfully at the tears of joy in there mother's eyes and the immense pride radiating off Arthur. And it seemed, even with their recent fighting, Ron and Ginny had forgotten there anger, if only for the day.
After a few minutes of watching the newlyweds dance, Harry felt Hermione arrive at his side. "It's amazing isn't it?" She pondered aloud. "I mean, even now…"
"Yeah, I know, I was just thinking the same," he agreed simply. His stomach flipped at her touch as she hooked her arm through his. When he turned to see her face, he noted that she had been crying and was watching the now many dancing couples wistfully. "Would you like to dance?"
She turned to him with a thoroughly surprised expression on her face. "Oh. You don't have to do that, Harry. I know you don't like to dance."
"That isn't what I asked, Mione. Never mind what I like. Would you like to dance?" Harry asked sincerely.
"Well… sort of… yes."
"Come on then, before I change my mind," He replied leading her onto the dance floor. As he took her hand and pulled he closer, he whispered cheekily, "Try not to trod on my feet, I don't like that much."
"Ha ha, you're hysterical," she replied dryly, but with laughter in her eyes.
As they began their dance, Harry caught a glimpse of Ginny watching them, looking betrayed and jealous. Harry somehow knew their most recent fight would be the last time he would see the uncharacteristic begging and pleading from Ginny, and that her pride would not allow her to approach him today. He was glad for this and his concentration went back to Hermione so he could enjoy their dance.
Harry became lost in her. In her beauty. She was especially beautiful today. Her eyes, her hair, her scent, her dress. Merlin did she look good in that dress. It was nothing extravagant. Just a simple black dress, with thin straps and ended a few inches above her knee. He knew that a dress like this had to be in the closet of every woman on the planet. But it looked amazing on her. He supposed it was the fact that Hermione rarely showed this side of herself and that it suited her quite well. She must lead some double life away from Hogwarts to be so surprisingly graceful in her high heels, as this was only the second time he had ever seen her in a pair. He had never really realized how incredibly sexy a pair of high heels were until that moment. He wasn't even one of those queer blokes that fancy a woman's feet, just the thought was almost enough to make him cringe. But heels, yes there was something about them. Before long, he caught himself daydreaming about different outfits she could, and then, possibly, wouldn't be wearing with a pair of amazing heels.
Then there was her skin. It was her skin that pushed him over the edge. There was so much of it viewable today that he had only seen once before at the Yule Ball. He found it didn't have near the effect on the clueless fourteen year old that it did the in-love, nearly-seventeen year old.
"You look beautiful, Hermione," Harry said softly, blushing to the tips of his ears as he realized he had said it aloud.
"Thank you, Harry," She responded with a blush of her own. Yet, even with her blush, he still got the distinct impression that she didn't really believe him.
"Really, Hermione, you do."
"I know, Harry, I heard you," she responded. Now he knew she was brushing off his compliment in disbelief.
"Why do you do that, Hermione?"
"Do what?"
"Act like you don't believe me when I say that I think you look beautiful."
"Because you don't really mean it, that's just what guys say when girls get dressed up, right? 'You look beautiful.' I mean, nothing about me has changed, I'm still just Hermione Granger," she replied and Harry knew this is how she honestly felt.
"Do you think that was just some line?" The look on her face made it obvious; that was what she thought. "How could you think--"
"Harry, sorry to interrupt, but could I speak with you?" Mr. Weasley placed a hand on Harry's shoulder cutting off his defense.
"Sure, Mr. Weasley, I'll be right there," Harry said before turning back to Hermione. "I wouldn't say something to you that I didn't mean," then he turned to follow Mr. Weasley, leaving Hermione to contemplate what he had just stated.
"What is it Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked after sitting next to the kind wizard at one of the many tables in the ballroom.
"I know your birthday is coming up on Tuesday, so I went ahead and scheduled you for your Apparition test. I hope you don't mind."
"Oh, no, not at all Mr. Weasley. I really had forgotten about it. What about Ron, doesn't he need to take the test still?"
"He already passed. He decided to take it alone, he didn't want to be embarrassed if he failed again," he said with a small smile, and after a moment of quiet deliberation, he continued. "Harry, I think that you should visit Gringotts after the test. I know that when wizards come of age they tend to have more responsibilities regarding their families in a more formal, financial, and official sense. But, all things considered, I believe you will have much more to become aware of. After all, you are the Head of you family now and I think it would be wise to go over, with the Goblins, everything that they can think of."
"Okay, I will, if you think it's a good idea."
"I do," Mr. Weasley said. "And your test is at 9:30 am, on Tuesday. You'll have to floo to the Ministry yourself; I'll only have enough time to show you to the correct office from the Atrium."
"Thanks, Mr. Weasley." Harry received a nod as Mr. Weasley re-entered the crowd.
"Is everything alright, Harry?" Hermione asked as she came up behind him.
"Yeah. Mr. Weasley was just letting me know that I'm scheduled for my Apparition test on Tuesday and that I should go to Gringotts."
"I'm sorry about before, Harry," Hermione said quickly with a sudden nervousness. "I should have believed you."
"That's alright; you just have to stop thinking that everyone is being fake with you."
"I know, it's just hard when you've really only been ridiculed by people growing up," she said quietly as she sat down next to him.
Harry's lips upturned into a small, sad smile as he placed a comforting arm around the beauty next to him, "Don't I know it."
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday, 31 July, 12:30 pm
"So?" Hermione asked, impatiently as Harry stepped out of the floo in the sitting room of Number 12.
"I, uh… I passed," Harry said, completely distracted, his face a mixture of confusion and deep thought.
"What's wrong, Harry?"
"I… He… I don't… He couldn't have…" She could see him struggling to put a thought together.
"That isn't much of an explanation, Harry." She couldn't help but to find a little humor at Harry, but that would quickly dry up.
"Well, here, read it for yourself," Harry told her, reaching into his robes and handing her an old, yellowed roll of parchment. The only notation on the scroll was on instruction: Do not open until seventeenth birthday. She didn't recognize the handwriting as belonging to someone they knew and cast a questioning glance at Harry. "Just read it."
Mr. Potter,
It is with great regret that I write this letter to you. I hope not to be the bearer of bad news, but I find myself compelled to inform you of the destiny that Fate has so unjustly dealt you. It has come to my knowledge that a prophecy has foretold great things of you, Mr. Potter. You must do great things, for you will be the equal of the Dark Lord.
I write this letter to you now, knowing that in two night's time, I will be forced to accompany a group of Death Eaters to the residence of Frank and Alice Longbottom and I fear that I will not have another opportunity to warn you. I pray that we are detected quickly enough to prevent serious damage to the Longbottoms. If we are not caught, I will return here, to Malfoy Manor, to await my death. I was never one of the Dark Lord's favorites, for very good reason, and those close to him do not care for my presence to say the least. So in being caught, there is the slightest hope of my survival. I would be in the hands of the Ministry of Magic, more specifically, my father, this is where the expression slim-to-none would describe the chance if have of escaping all punishment. But even the slightest hope is better than certain death. I will rely on my acting skills to, hopefully, sway my father, or at least my mother who will convince my father.
The Longbottoms will be attacked because, not only are they Aurors who might have caught wind of the Dark Lords whereabouts, but the Dark Lord's source within the Ministry reports that Alice is your Godmother. She and her husband are to be your guardians, adoptive parents it would seem, after the attack Sirius Black made upon Peter Pettigrew earlier this afternoon.
The beginnings of my tale aren't as important to you as they would be to some others, so I shall not include them. All I will tell you is that I, despite my current situation, do not support the Dark Lord. Though, I have been forced to commit acts to ensure my cover is not blown. But on the other hand, I have not aligned myself with Dumbledore, or his Order. I have helped as many of the Order as I can, I have personally helped both your parents, and the Longbottoms escape with their lives at times. But what truly matters is what I have uncovered in my time amongst the Death Eaters.
The secret to the Dark Lord's quest for immortality and his inhuman form is Horcruxes. They are the vilest manifestation of evil known to man and wizard alike. They are formed by the separation of part of a soul from the host body into a container. The only way a Horcrux can be formed is by committing premeditated murder after completing the appropriate rituals and enabling them at the correct moment just before the murder. A Horcrux, in theory, is only to be done once. The Dark Lord has done this four times to my knowledge, and I believe he was still searching for adequate containers when he lost his body during the attack on you. With the Dark Lord's vast knowledge, it is only a matter of time before he returns.
Salazar Slytherin's locket, Helga Hufflepuff's cup, his grandfather's family ring, and his personal diary are the four items I have deduced to be Horcruxes. However, I have only been able to destroy one of these items. The locket. There is no need for you to search for the locket any longer, I have seen to its destruction.
I feel much guilt for the way that I needed to handle the situation, but I always force myself to recognize what must be done, regardless the consequences. I cannot say it is for the greater good. The greater good only exists when one is making personal sacrifices, not sacrificing others in their stead, which is what I am forced to do.
All this brings me to where it becomes important to you. Your godfather's brother, Regulus Arcturus Black, is the man I framed for stealing the Dark Lord's horcrux. I take what little solace I can in the fact that he was truly evil, but too much of a coward to do the things required to serve the Dark Lord. He was trying to worm his way out of service, and face first into a killing curse. He would have been killed with or without my set-up.
I apologize to you for not being able to complete the task that I had set out to accomplish. I wish and pray for only the best for you in your own attempt to complete this duty to both wizard and mankind.
Sincerely,
Bartemius Crouch, Jr.
"But that just isn't possible," Hermione said in as shocked voice.
"I'm as shocked has you are," Harry responded, "but do you think he made it all up, and it miraculously came true? Horcruxes and all?"
"Well, then how do you explain the whole helping-bring-Voldemort-back part, and the him-trying-to-kill-you part?"
"There could be a bunch of explanations, Hermione. He could have gone insane in Azkaban, or if he didn't lose his mind he could have been under the Imperious because his mind had been weakened in there," Harry suggested.
"Sirius didn't lose his mind or become weakened because of it."
"Sirius was escaping into his animagus form to help, remember?"
All the wind in her sails seemed to disappear, "Oh, yeah. So… what now?"
"Well, he says that the locket has already been destroyed, but he doesn't say how he did it. I just assumed it was by physically altering the object, like the cracked stone in the ring and stabbing the diary. But then again he only knew of four Horcruxes, Dumbledore thought there were six?"
"I don't think Voldemort told him about the first four, maybe he just didn't find out about the last two. Or he could have made them after he regained his body. I'm beginning to think that Nagini isn't one after all. Why would he put a piece of his soul into something that could die, no matter how long it's supposed to live? I mean look how long a Basilisk is supposed to live, and a twelve year old killed it."
"Harry! What if the Basilisk was one? That would explain why Crouch wouldn't have known. I'm sure Voldemort wouldn't have boasted about that to anyone but his most loyal, maybe not even them. And he wouldn't have been able to know that anyone could speak parsletongue to even get into the Chamber of Secrets let alone kill the thing.
"It wasn't a Horcrux," Harry said simply, but had to continue at Hermione's 'how do you know' look. "First of all, Voldemort didn't kill Myrtle, the Basilisk did, and she was the only death that year that could have had the Basilisk near enough to use as a container. Plus there was no screaming other than the Basilisk's."
"Oh," she said, a thoughtful look on her face as she thought through his reasoning. "Yes, of course.
"So what's our next step, then?" Hermione asked, moving to the nearest armchair and dropping into it.
She watched as Harry crossed the room and sunk into the chair closest to her, resting his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands. He sat silent for a long moment coming to his decision. While he sat, she noticed the family ring on his right hand. She was quite surprised to see him actually wearing it, most Heads, such as Mr. Weasley, Sirius and Professor Dumbledore simply kept them where they could be retrieved relatively quickly.
Harry took a deep breath and sat back in his chair, "It's time to leave."
"When?"
"Tomorrow, during the Order meeting."
"Don't you think that's a bit of a risk, with all of them here? We could be caught rather easily."
"We could, but I'm not too worried about that. Besides, with all of them here, there will be nobody out there to send word to that we've run. It'll give us time to get where we're going. The Order will be a step behind us the entire time."
"Where exactly are we going?" She asked, knowing full well what the answer was going to be.
"Godric's Hollow, but not the house. We have to give the Order enough time to search for us there. We'll stay at the inn for the night. I'm sure that Lupin will insist that the hollow is the first place I'd want to go."
"He'd be right."
"Unfortunately."
"We'll need to start packing, then. But only the things that won't go noticed by anyone that might walk past our rooms between now and tomorrow night. That way it won't look as though we're going anywhere," Hermione explained.
"Well, I never really unpacked to begin with. I've been waiting to leave, and everyone seems to be avoiding my room, anyway," Harry shrugged, acting as if he hadn't any idea why.
The time after lunch was spent quietly organizing the things that Hermione would need to bring with and packing away as much as they could while still remaining inconspicuous. They packed all the relevant books they could, most of which came from the master bed's own collection as well as nearly all of her clothes. As they stood back and observed what they had done, it only looked as if Hermione had simple tidied up her room, something she was well know for doing from time to time.
"Where are you going?"
Hermione jumped, "Sweet Merlin, Mum," she could feel her heart racing from the fright her mother just gave her. "What did you ask?"
"Your mum wants to know where we're going?" Harry answered instead, a slight smirk on his face at her being scared.
"I'm not going anywhere," She replied defensively, "I'm just reorganizing a bit."
"Don't you give me that, Hermione Jane! You packed away your books, you're going somewhere!" Her mother accused. Hermione glanced at Harry; he was regarding her mother carefully. Without even looking, Harry felt Hermione's gaze and nodded slightly, indicating that he was fine with her parents knowing.
"Okay, go get Dad," Hermione resigned. When her mother returned, father in tow, Hermione quickly beckoned them to sit on her bed as Harry waved his hand at the door, which closed and sealed with a squelch.
"Harry these are my parents, Miranda and Jake. Mum, Dad, this is Harry Potter," Hermione introduced them.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you after hearing so many good things," Mrs. Granger said warmly as she approached Harry, who reached to shake her hand politely, but found himself trapped in a strong hug. Harry noticed Mr. Granger over her shoulder, he was stone-faced giving no indication that he was going to say anything.
"We're leaving to finish what Professor Dumbledore started," Harry stated after he pulled away from Mrs. Granger. "And no one can find out that we're leaving until we're gone. I hope that we can trust you two with that."
"We will do our best," was Mrs. Granger's sincere reply. "But could you tell us the story, at least, why it has to be you?"
Harry nodded slowly and took a moment before he began. "It really all started nearly six months before I was born. A woman who would become our Divination professor gave a prophecy to our headmaster…" Harry launched into the tale avoiding as many specifics and names as he could, finishing with the information an 'unknown source' had left in his vault.
"So the weight of the world really is on your shoulders," Mr. Granger stated, rather than questioned. And as if that marked an end to the conversation, they began to move about the room, her parents now helping with the packing.
When Hermione and Miranda left the room to put a pile of Hermione's books that wouldn't fit in her own trunk into Harry's, Jake stopped packing and sat on the bed. "I do have one question for you, Harry. Why is my little girl going along?"
"I can't seem to get rid of her," Harry said with a small smile, thinking of the moment just after Dumbledore's funeral. "I've tried to talk her out of it, but she's having none of it."
Mr. Granger nodded in resignation, "As long as you tried, I know you can't force Hermione to do anything she doesn't want to. Just… take care of her for me. She may be a young woman now, but she's still my little girl." Harry just nodded his understanding. He was moved when Jake stood once again, looked him square in the eye, and extended his hand to Harry. The women returned just after the men ended their shake.
As they ended up side by side once more that night, Harry reached over and took Hermione's hand for a moment squeezing it slightly, thanking her again, in his head, for being there with him. She looked at him peculiarly with a smile on her face, but didn't say anything, only squeezed his hand in return. In fact, there wasn't much more conversation at all as the Grangers helped Hermione pack the rest of her things. Eventually all four drifted off to bed. Two with a nervous anticipation about the following afternoon and two dreading every second that ticked by knowing that it could be the last they ever spend with the young woman, whom, it seemed, only yesterday was their baby girl.
A/N: Inspiration: Shinedown's Fly From the Inside. Seriously, go check it out.