Chapter V
Disclaimer: JK owns the characters, and the plot is mine
The bright light hurt his eyes, as he slowly opened them. A blur that vaguely defined the shape of a face swam above him.
"He's awoken," said a voice Harry didn't recognize.
Someone placed the glasses on his face, and the world came in focus.
Tonks was standing over him, an expression of wonderment on her face. Harry didn't know why sudden silence overtook the room.
"Unbelievable," whispered another voice from the corner near the door.
"How is this possible?" Professor McGonagall said, astonished.
Harry was confused and was beginning to feel that he was missing out on something.
He was about to ask what it was, but a quiet sobbing he instantly recognized as Hermione's, stopped the words coming out of his mouth.
"Is…is he going to be alright?" she asked weakly.
"I believe so, Ms. Granger," announced Madam Pomfrey. "His vital signs are satisfactory, yet I cannot explain why that is.."
"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Harry said in frustration. "What's the matter with everyone!"
"It's not them, mate. It's you," Ron told him.
"What about me?"
"The Dementor attack, Harry. It's a wonder that you're even alive," said Remus solemnly.
"The Dementor attack?"
"Yes," Remus said again.
"I fainted, I remember that," Harry replied thoughtfully. "Didn't they leave after?"
"Oh, no," said Remus quietly. "That's when the worst of it happened."
Chills ran through Harry. Was he really as well as he felt he was?
"Harry, you remember when I told you that you have a past, darker than that of most people," Remus went on. Harry nodded affirmatively. "Well, this flock of Dementors descended upon you when you collapsed. They feed on suffering, Harry, and given your history, we thought for certain you were going to die. Arthur and I, we arrived late, and managed to drive them out, but by then we feared the worst. We commonly agreed that it's a miracle that you are alive, Harry, but how that is, remains a mystery to be solved."
Harry listened intently to Remus, and found himself unable to articulate a response.
Once again, he was lucky to be alive, but why? What power kept him from the clutches of death?
The answer to that question lay hidden in a mysterious place, of whose existence a select few were aware. It was a room in the Ministry of Magic, deep within the Department of Mysteries, and confining a force, mysterious and powerful, which learned wizards of the day still found trouble in comprehending.
Yet, Harry knew of the room, but it never crossed his mind to investigate it, and it would not, for a while to come. Hermione was the meaning of his life, and her constant worry over him contributed to his daily growing respect of her and the need to value his own life more. He might have received a second chance, but just as quickly, it could be taken away.
His thoughts abruptly halted, as a sudden tiredness overtook him. Consciousness was quickly extinguished, as he was dragged back in the abyss that was sleep.
**
A thunderclap broke the silence and drone of the rain, as it beat the roof. Rain had been falling all night, and the break of day announced the its continued assault on Grimmauld Place. Harry turned over, startled awake by the sound, and beside him, Hermione lay with her eyes open, staring entranced at the enchanted ceiling. This morning, it was as gloomy as the weather outside.
"Couldn't sleep?" Hermione asked, without looking at him.
"No," Harry mumbled tiredly. "Bloody thunder's too loud."
Hermione sighed heavily, and continued to stare at the ceiling listlessly.
"Anything wrong, love?" Harry asked softly, trying to guess at the source of Hermione's discomfort.
"No, Harry, nothing at all…" she answered distantly, but Harry was not easily fooled.
"I know you well, Hermione. Please, tell me."
She could not deny his sincere request.
"It's you, Harry. It's always you," she said with slightly more energy. "You barely escape with you life, and losing you again is unthinkable for me."
Harry was about to form a response, but his attention was diverted by a distraction in the form of a dusty-coloured barn owl, hovering outside the rain-lashed window and tapping impatiently at it with its beak. There was a drenched letter in its talons.
Harry leapt out of the bed, and threw the window open. He was promptly deluged in water, both from the rain and the owl's beating wings as it swept inside.
Hermione got up from the bed as well, and walked over to pick up the soggy letter, which was now resting with the wet owl on top of Harry's trunk.
"Harry, it is from the Ministry," she said simply.
Once he had fastened the window tightly, Harry walked over to Hermione.
"Open it," he said.
She performed his instruction, and read the contents of the letter silently for a few minutes.
"So?" Harry prompted, once she had looked up, with surprise and slight indignation apparent on her features.
"They're offering to train us as Aurors, Harry," her tone was hesitant.
"Is that so?"
"So it seems," she confirmed with another glance at the parchment.
"What do you think?" Harry asked.
"I'm not sure, Harry, but if you ask me, it is a good idea," Hermione said reasonably.
"Well, alright, but is there a catch?" he asked thoughtfully.
"Not from what I gather. Obviously we'll be working for the Ministry, but it is a good job," Hermione said.
"I don't know, Hermione. I'm still wary of them and their offers."
"It could be fear, Harry," Hermione said with satisfaction. "You came back, and they don't know how. Seems the Ministry fears you will turn in the next Dark Lord."
"That's ridiculous!" Harry exclaimed.
"My thought exactly," she answered.
"Then we'll join them," said Harry resolutely. "I don't like it much, but since I'm here, I might as well do something with myself," he added. "And besides, with you alongside me, it'll be much more bearable."
As the reader may have already guessed, Hermione was delighted by his nearly prompt acceptance of the Ministry's proposal.
The sound of someone knocking on the front door attracted Harry's attention.
"I'll be right back," Harry said in passing, as he walked in the entrée.
The vivid red hair visible in the window betrayed Ron's presence outside. Smiling, Harry opened the door. Seeing his best friend greatly improved his spirits.
"Come on in," Harry said pleasantly as he ushered his guests inside.
"Hullo, Harry," said Luna serenely. "Your ceiling looks really gloomy today," she observed randomly, directing her gaze upwards.
"Err…right," Harry replied slightly awkwardly. "Well, let's go to the kitchen. Hermione's in there, and she is impatient to see you."
They walked in the said room of the house, and pleasantries were promptly exchanged. Luna and Hermione quickly delved in a lively conversation that concerned the wedding of the main couple in our story, and the two best friends looked on, slightly amused.
"Luna, I must show you my ideas for the dress. I assure you, it is positively gorgeous," Hermione was saying, as Luna listened intently, and the former led the latter by the hand to the bedroom upstairs.
Harry and Ron were left to their own devices once the ladies had departed.
"I have to say, mate, you're one lucky man," Ron said.
"She's amazing, Ron," Harry answered absent-mindedly, "can't imagine life without, Hermione."
"So when will the wedding be," Ron asked, grinning.
"Not sure, Ron. I think I will leave Hermione to think of the date. I'm more concerned with the aspect of safety. That attack in London was not without motive," Harry answered shrewdly.
The jovial atmosphere of the initial meeting was replaced by one of suspicion and impatience.
"I can't make head nor tail of it," replied Ron thoughtfully. "Who could be behind it?"
"I don't know," Harry said gravely. "But it frustrates me, because the wedding could be a target. I'm not much of an incognito figure as it is…"
"That isn't all, Harry."
"Really?"
"Well, I work at the Ministry, and I hear the occasional word," said Ron mysteriously. "There's been another murder."
"At the ministry?" Harry asked disbelievingly.
"Yes. One of the minister's aides."
"What d'you suppose was the meaning of it?"
Harry was unnerved by this new development. The two events had to be connected. A plummeting feeling in his stomach told him that a plot existed, much more sinister than he originally thought.
"Had to be a warning of some sort," Ron said confidently. "It's a sound strategic move. Killing someone so close to the minister means that the perpetrator will encounter nearly no trouble killing the big man."
"I'm enrolling to be an Auror, Ron," Harry put in unexpectedly. "I could not guarantee Hermione's safety, but at least the courses will help me in trying to find who this new vigilante is…"
"I hope you know what you're doing, Harry. There's no need to panic as of yet, but I suggest that we be on our guard more often," Ron said. "There is no assurance about where the next strike could be."
Harry sighed, and was about to communicate a response back to Ron, but Hermione and Luna, who walked, all aflutter and excited, back in the kitchen, interrupted him.
"Alright, Hermione, I'll let you know as soon as I can, but I have to go to Diagon Alley first," Luna was saying. "Come on, Ronald, we have to be going."
She dragged Ron towards the entrance hall, and the latter threw a glance at Harry.
"Well then, see you soon, I trust," said Harry.
"We will visit you soon, yes," said Luna. "Unless you two would rather visit us first."
"Definitely," said Hermione with a smile.
"All right, then," said Ron. "Later, mate. See you, Hermione."
"Bye, Ron."
"See you Ron. And keep your family safe," Harry told him in parting.
"Yeah, you too," Ron said, giving him a pointed look, which Hermione returned with interest.
With that, Harry closed the door heavily, and another sigh escaped him. His fiancé looked curiously at him.
"Harry?"
"Yes?"
"Are you feeling alright?"
"No, Hermione, not particularly," said Harry distractedly.
He walked back to the kitchen, and sat down on one of the chairs. His head was bent low in thought, as worries and plans chased each other around in his mind.
An enigmatic, purposeful mastermind orchestrated those attacks. Only, they were becoming more daring, and what would that mean?
A warning, most certainly, Harry thought, a warning of something worse to come…
The rain had started again outside, but this time, with more ferocity than before. Thunder echoed in the distance. A lightning bolt illuminated the dark sky.
The feeling in Harry's stomach only became heavier with dread.
A/N There it is…chapter five. If you liked it, or not, please leave a review never-the-less
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