A/N: Bah, this chapter just didn't develop the way I wanted. I'll be skipping ahead in time in the next chapter, maybe with some more Weasley stuff in there. Once we get to the tournament, I'm sure everything will go a lot more smoothly.
And to alleviate your fears, nothing is going to come between Harry & Hermione, I assure you of that, at least not in this year. That's not to say they won't have problems later on, but this remains first and foremost an H/Hr story.
The song going through my head at the beginning was "Hollow" by Godsmack. Just one of those tidbits you might like to know.
/ - / - / - /
Harry silently roamed the halls of Hogwarts, under the guise of his invisibility cloak. He didn't have a particular destination in mind, nor did he have a clue as to how long he had wandered. After leaving the headmaster's office, he had quietly walked back to Gryffindor tower, fished the cloak out of trunk, and left again without saying a word to anyone. Hermione had just looked at him with those deep brown eyes of hers, and he had ignored her silent pleadings to tell her what was wrong.
Part of him knew she would help him, that she could try and make things better, but this was one inescapable conclusion he couldn't avoid, one end that he couldn't walk away from, and there was nothing Hermione could do about it.
In order to save himself, in order to defeat the greatest evil the wizarding world had perhaps ever known, he had to become that which he hated the most. He had to become just like those who had tormented and abused him for the first thirteen years of his life. He had to become like the Dursleys, or at least no better than them. He had to become a cold blooded murderer.
The thought chilled his very soul.
To be truthful, aside from that part of the prophecy, he wasn't really surprised that there was something about him that made Voldemort try to kill him so many times. A small sarcastic corner of his mind tried to lighten the mood by saying that it was a wonder Trelawney could actually predict anything made him internally chuckle.
A momentary thought about what she had said last year came and went without a singular consideration from him at that very instant, never to return.
His mind wandered back to what he had to do, what he alone had the apparent power to do. That was one thing he chided himself on. He was so busy being angry and blowing up at Dumbledore that he had forgot to ask him whatever this power that the dark lord knew not was. Whatever it was, he hoped the Professor had some idea.
Harry finally came to a stop just outside the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, slumping down onto the ground and removing his cloak, feeling like a lead weight had just been tied around his neck. He needed a place he could be alone, a place he could collect his thoughts about everything and come up with some kind of plan of action. Frustrated, he stood back up and began pacing back and forth, his mind wishing that some place would just happen to appear.
Funny how magic worked…
Much to his surprise he saw a door appear out of nowhere next to him. He tilted his head in curiosity, and slowly turned the knob and opened the door.
The inside was no different than the Gryffindor common room, safe for the lack of house-specific decorations and no stairwell that led to the dormitories. He cautiously stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He glanced around for several minutes, taking in the simplistic sights, before sitting down in the armchair next to the fire.
"What is this place," he whispered to the room around him. He hadn't even heard of such a room before. It was as if the castle had read his desires of what he needed, and then given him what he required. He chuckled as he thought that Hermione would know what this room was.
He really needed to read Hogwarts: A History, he thought to himself.
Thinking of Hermione suddenly made everything seem a lot smaller in scope. He didn't have to save the whole of the wizarding world; he could live with simply saving Hermione. A small part of him, deep in his gut, told him that would be enough and that the rest would fall into place. He wasn't foolish enough to believe it literally, but he was able to smile and breathe a bit easier knowing that there was some degree of comfort he could simply get just by thinking of her at a time like this.
He paused when he thought about what Dumbledore had said, about telling other people the prophecy. Only tell those you trust with certainty was essentially what the headmaster had instructed him to do. And as angry as he was right now, he could see the potential problems if too many people got word of the prophecy.
As he went down the list of people he trusted, there were only two names that came up in the "implicit trust" column….Ron and Hermione. And Ron was rather shaky. He had been surprisingly distant the last few days while at the Burrow, but Harry had told himself that it was probably just him stressing about finishing his homework on time.
That left Hermione, solid reliable Hermione, and Harry knew what he had to do. He owed it to her to tell her the prophecy, if for no other reason than to give her the choice of whether or not to stay with him. As much as it pained him to do so, he owed that much to her to give her the option, no matter the outcome.
/ - / - / - /
Harry was amazed to discover how much he enjoyed the art of arithmancy. Aside from defense with Moody (which had started off rocky, but was quickly becoming a far better learning experience than Harry would have anticipated), Professor Vector's class was rapidly becoming one of his favorites. He was surprised at how easily he took to the art form of creating and enhancing spells.
So it was that he was currently in the library with Hermione, working on a group project that they had been paired off for. Both of them were currently researching various theories on energizing crystals and their use in temporal mechanics. A rather deep project to be certain, but then Hermione had been the one to choose the independent group research project.
Hermione glanced up from her book and saw Harry diligently working at his research, jotting down notes as he came across interesting passages and such. It had been two weeks since school had started, and she had noticed that Harry had become a bit more reserved once again. It looked like he wasn't getting much sleep. Despite this he appeared to be doing much better in his classes than he normally had been; so far he was competing with her regularly for the top marks in class (save for defense, in which he always scored higher than her). Still, she couldn't help but notice the lines of tension that had formed around his eyes, seeming to age him a good three or four years. Come to think of it, the brief vestiges of a carefree person that she had seen over the summer had disappeared entirely since the first day at Hogwarts.
More accurately, these images had vanished since Harry had first returned from Professor Dumbledore's office.
She bit her bottom lip as she went through the possible reasons for this connection. Surely Dumbledore couldn't have told him that he would have to return to his relatives that summer. Even if that had been the case, he wouldn't have told him until later in the year.
'Maybe something had happened to Sirius?' she thought to herself. She contemplated the notion for a moment before dismissing it. He would have said something about that to her at least.
'So what else could it be?' she asked herself. She bit her bottom lip as she tried to deduce the cause of Harry's problems. She internally sighed when she came to the conclusion that she hadn't the faintest idea as to what it was. She steeled her resolve, and leaned forward to Harry, concern in her eyes. "Harry," she whispered, causing said wizard to look up from his book and look at her. His face almost immediately returned to the melancholy mask that it had been wearing for the better part of two weeks when he saw the concern in her eyes. "Is something wrong?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on his, hoping to provide the kind of support she had shown him before. Harry looked down, and seemed to let out a staggered breath before he nodded.
"We shouldn't discuss this here," he whispered back to her, before closing his book and standing up. Hermione followed suit, slightly confused as to what was so important that they couldn't discuss it alone in the library, with only two or three other people besides themselves across the room. They both returned their books and gathered their things, Hermione closely following Harry as they left the library and trudged up a set of stairs that led to a part of the castle she hadn't been in before. Hermione was even more confused when Harry stopped in front of a tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy, pacing back and forth a few times as if he was waiting for something. Much to her shock however, a door seemed to appear out of nowhere. Her indexed knowledge of Hogwarts: A History kicked into overdrive, and before long she had the answer to her unspoken question.
"You found the Room of Requirement!" she exclaimed, to which Harry looked at her with a slightly amused expression on his face.
"I guess I did. I just needed a place to think about things one time, and here I came." He opened the door and motioned for Hermione to follow. She had read about the Room of Requirement being exactly that: a place where a person could go to get what they needed. However the book had been frustratingly silent as to the location of said room. She walked through the simple door and was surprised to find a rather fitting replica of the Gryffindor common room, minus the house colors of course. Harry had taken a seat on the sofa in front of the fire, his eyes firmly fixed on it. Hermione tilted her head slightly and sat next to him, closing the door before she approached. She sat there for what seemed like an eternity as Harry took measured breaths while staring into the firelight. Hesitantly, she reached out and put an arm around his shoulders, if for no other reason than to remind him that she was there. Harry closed his eyes and rubbed them, taking off his glasses before he did so. He reopened his eyes and never looked at her, merely keeping his gaze on the fire.
"You remember how Professor Dumbledore called me into his office the first day?" Hermione nodded her head, despite the fact that Harry could not see the gesture. "When I was there, he told me…" he hesitated a bit, before continuing, "He told me why Voldemort has been after me all these years." Hermione arched an eyebrow in confusion. That should be a good thing to know why a madman was after you. Maybe there was something that could be done about it.
"He said-he said that there was a prophecy made just before I was born. It said that the person with the power to defeat Voldemort would be born as the seventh month died, to parents who had thrice defied him." Hermione felt her breath involuntarily catch in her throat, and hoped Harry wouldn't notice. "It also said that Voldemort would mark this child as his equal, but that he would have power that Voldemort didn't understand." He paused a moment longer, before meekly finishing, "It also said that one of us has to kill the other one."
Hermione sat there shocked for a moment, "But…he's dead right? V-Voldemort is dead already?" Harry shook his head.
"He never really was dead, just sort of left in a kind of limbo I guess. He's tried to come back twice already, and those dreams I was having in the summer don't suggest he's going to give up anytime soon." Hermione pursed her lips and nodded, rubbing Harry's shoulders as she absorbed what he had said. They stayed that way for several moments, before Harry added, "Maybe you should leave Hermione." She stopped halfway down his back, frozen in fear. She swallowed hard, and gathered what he was trying to do.
"Harry look at me." Harry glanced up at her, and she saw the pained look in his eyes as he fought with himself to say what he was trying to say.
"I'm cursed Hermione," he softly spoke, barely above a whisper. "My parents died trying to save me, Ron got hurt trying to help me, you were petrified trying to help me, how long before one of you gets hurt again or…" he paused at the gravity of what he was saying, tears now leaking out of the corners of his eyes. Hermione could see that he was struggling to maintain control of his emotions, just as he had three months earlier that fateful night they had saved Sirius. Recalling what she had done then, she slowly pulled him in, hugging him fiercely, allowing him to melt into her embrace and let out the frustration and heartache.
"I'm sorry this happened to you Harry," she said softly as he seemed to quiet down, "It's not fair…to anyone…but especially not to someone as kind or caring as you are." She pulled his face away from her shoulder, cradling it with both of her hands. She looked firmly into his emerald orbs, making sure they were focused solely on her face as she stated firmly, "But don't think for one second that I'm going to let you face this alone."
"Hermione…" Harry started to object, but then found the words lost in his throat. "You can't…I…" he trailed off, and Hermione let him look away slightly.
"I most certainly can and I will Harry James Potter," she quickly added, "Together, we can beat him together." Harry still was struggling with himself, debating as to whether or not he could allow this, but there was something else, something just beneath the surface that was threatening to boil over. Finally Harry turned back to her, a modicum of frustration in his voice.
"I can't let you get yourself killed!" he shouted, the tears forgotten at the moment. He stood up and turned towards the fireplace, leaning against the mantle. Then, barely above a whisper, he confessed…"I…I care about you Hermione…more than you know I…." Hermione's eyes stood wide open, and she was struggling to keep her mouth from flapping open in shock. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?
"Harry," she meekly said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I….I care about you too…like that." He seemed to stiffen at this and turned toward her, a curious look on his face. He tilted his head, as if he was staring at a ghost or something.
"You mean that…" Hermione slowly nodded. Though it wasn't directly being admitted, the two of them had silent recognition as to what was being said at that very moment.
"That's why I won't let you face this alone Harry," she said solemnly, "Because the thought of losing you is….unbearable." Harry turned away again, but Hermione kept going, "Please Harry…let me help you. I know if we work together…we can do anything Harry. Nothing has ever stopped us before, and nothing will here."
Harry seemed to offer a genuine smile at this as he turned back to her, and embraced her strongly. They broke away, and Harry looked at her with something akin to joy in his face as he rubbed his thumb over her forehead. "Thank you," he whispered, and the two of them embraced once more in the twinkling firelight.
A/N: I understand these chapters are a lot shorter than my "Heir" story, but truthfully I'm having a harder time with this series, maybe because I'm in the process of changing how things are going slightly.
Needless to say I won't be abandoning this series, but as you can have expected, updates will come much slower than for the Heirs trilogy. I've had two updates (and started a third) to Founders while this has sat stubbornly unfinished for the last two weeks or so.
To answer a preemptive question, Harry & Hermione are not officially what you would consider a romantic couple…yet. They took a step closer, by admitting their feelings run deeper than friendship to each other. Any relationship, romantically, will begin in the near future; you can guess where I'm going with this.