Chapter 3-What Work Can't Erase
Kiss the haze; go ahead, it will brighten up your days.
It can't be wrong if it makes you feel so right.
Walk the line; go ahead, it will surely blow your mind.
You can show them what we're all about
Kiss the Haze by House of Fools.
"-Said anything?"
"Not a word."
"It's been three days-we can't afford to fool around with this girl any more."
He pushed further into the soft warmth surrounding him.
"We can't do anything yet!"
"And why not?"
His mumbled protest died in his throat; he found it required too much effort to use his vocal cords.
"We know nothing about her!"
"We know damn sure she's a Death Eater! That should be enough!"
He tried to move, starting with his fingers; he felt relief when his thumb brushed against the sheets.
"Obviously there's more to the story, Alastor. We need to wait until Harry wakes up!"
"And what if he never does, Minerva?"
Harry finally groaned, managing to roll over onto his back.
"Harry!"
He groaned again as the noises rose in volume. He felt something collide with his bed, shifting him back onto his side.
"Ronald! You clumsy berk! Get out of my way! Harry? Harry, can you hear me?"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Stop pestering my patient! Shoo! Shoo! Mr. Potter?"
Harry opened his eyes a crack, finding himself surrounded by white sheets and red hair.
"He's alive!"
"He won't stay that way for long if you remain in my way! Mr. and Miss Weasley move from Mr. Potter's bed now!"
Harry carefully blinked a few times, allowing the drawn but kind face of Madame Pomfrey to appear before him.
"Always getting yourself into trouble, even as a child," she scolded gently, her eyes watering. She bustled out of his vision; the sound of clinking bottles met his ears. "You'll be drinking quite a few potions today, Mr. Potter. I'm not sure what they did to you these past two months, but it left you rather exhausted magically, not to mention your entire magical signature has changed!"
"W-whe-"
"Don't speak, Potter. Drink first."
She gently gripped him around the shoulders, propping him up on a few pillows, allowing him to finally see his surroundings fully. He sat in a small, white, hospital-styled bed, surrounded by a white curtain. Madame Pomfrey thrust a small vial into his hand.
"Drink, Potter, drink."
He grimaced at the dubious-looking concoction that smelled of old socks, before throwing it down his throat quickly. The cool sensation of the potion sliding down caused him to cough violently; Madame Pomfrey gently tapped him on the back a few times.
"W-what happened?" He finally gasped.
"We were hoping you could tell us that, actually," came a voice from his right. Minerva McGonagall pushed through the white curtains, followed closely by Mad-Eye Moody.
"We found you just inside our wards; don't know how you made it through them-we'll have to run a few tests and modif-"
"We found you unconscious, Mr. Potter," Minerva interrupted, cutting off Moody with a stern glare. "Along with a young woman with a dead snake around her neck and a Dark Mark on her-"
Harry jerked into awareness, scrambling out of bed; despite the pain it caused him.
"Mr. Potter! What-"
"Where is she?" He nearly yelled, stumbling as he tried to stand.
"Potter! You need rest! I will not-"
"Where is she? Where's Hermione?" He demanded again, finally managing to stand.
"Harry. Please! Lay down!"
"Not until I see Hermione. I need to speak with her now!"
McGonagall and Moody exchanged glances.
"She's down in the interrogation rooms. Lupin is with her now," Moody replied in a gruff voice.
Harry walked past them as quickly as the pain would allow. As soon as he was outside the curtains, however, he found his progress halted by a sea of red.
"Harry! Mate!"
"Merlin! Harry, you're okay!"
He felt bodies begin to press around him; irritated, he pushed them away.
"Geoff me! I need to go down to the dungeons."
Ron and Ginny gaped at him.
"I'm sorry," he added, seeing their expressions. "I'll speak with you both later. There's something more important I have to deal with now."
He walked briskly out of the hospital wing, feeling his strength returning, perhaps only due to the overpowering need to see Hermione, to confirm she had brought him here, to see her face.
"Mr. Potter! Slow down!"
Harry ignored her, stumbling down the moving staircases until he reached the dungeon floor, and continuing down the dark corridor until he found the small corner room they used for their interrogations.
When he pushed the door open, a loud scream hit his ears. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM, DEATH EATER?"
Remus Lupin loomed over the small desk at the center of the room, his chair knocked over and shattered on the floor. On the opposite side of the table she sat, calmly peering up at Lupin, her eyes and face blank, still in her blood-red robes, now torn in several places and covered in dirt. Steel manacles bound her wrists, cutting into her skin slightly.
"Hermione!"
Lupin spun around, his wand out. Hermione's blank mask dropped completely, leaving behind a look full of so many emotions that Harry knew he would not be able to put into words.
He felt them though, coursing through his mind.
"Harry!" With a roll of her right wrist, the manacles fell off, allowing her to spring forward past a gawking Lupin and launch herself into his arms.
"You're alive. Merlin! You're alive, you're alive, you're alive!"
Harry pulled her closer to him, burying his face in her hair.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you-I just wasn't sure-I was so afraid-but you're alive. Gods, you're alive." She babbled incoherently, her hands tangling into the strands of his hair.
"You did it," he murmured, close to her ear. "You saved me."
Harry was beginning to comprehend that this woman in his arms, this wonderfully resilient woman, had not only risked everything for him, but also given up everything for him; given up the things that were more important to her than anything, than anyone else.
He pulled away from her slightly to look in her face, as if to affirm that she was, in fact, in front of him. "Hermione-"
Suddenly she was yanked out of his arms, and Remus' snarling face interrupted the moment. "What are you doing, Harry?"
Hermione appeared to only just restrain herself from rolling her eyes.
Remus jerked Hermione forward by her right arm and yanked up the sleeve of her robe, revealing the Dark Mark, though instead of the dark, thin lines in the outline of a skull and snake, the skin was blackened, as though burned, and the surrounding area red and irritated.
Harry took her arm gently, away from Remus, and stared at the charred skin. "What's wrong with it?" He asked her quietly.
"He's angry," she whispered. "Very angry with me. He's causing as much pain as possible through the link."
He placed his palm softly on the Mark and was surprised when she let out a small moan. Before he could pull his hand away however, Hermione stopped him by placing her free hand over his. "Don't." She closed her eyes. "That feels good."
She leaned further into him, letting out a small sigh. Harry kept his hold on her arm, a feeling of something akin to fondness bubbling up within his chest.
"Mr.Potter-"
Harry exhaled heavily and released Hermione. The color of the Dark Mark had faded to a normal color, the lines of the grotesque tattoo now slightly faded.
"It makes sense that you'd be able to counter it. You're the Dark Lord's opposite in every way," said Hermione with a slight smile.
"Mr. Potter," McGonagall began again, sounding exasperated. "I do believe you have quite a bit of explaining to do."
"Minerva, I must insist that first, Mr. Potter-" Madame Pomfrey paused for a moment, looking at Hermione's rather pale figure. "-And Miss-?"
Hermione glanced at Harry; he shifted so he was standing slightly in front of her, their shoulders overlapping.
"Granger." Hermione answered. "Hermione Granger."
The Order's reaction was immediate, but no member was quicker than Mad Eye-Moody; his wand was out before anyone could blink and a red bolt of magic flew towards Hermione. Impulsively, Harry raised his hand; Hermione did the same. His golden shield merged with her silver one, deflecting the curse and sending it back at Moody who was knocked unconscious.
"Well," Hermione murmured, "That was different."
McGonagall and Remus' wands stayed on Hermione.
"Everyone just calm down," Harry stated firmly. "I trust Hermione with my life; she's not a threat to our cause. We'll explain everything in time, but for now, I think Madame Pomfrey is right; Hermione and I should get some rest."
"It has taken seven years, but that boy is finally listening to me," Madame Pomfrey muttered. "All right, let's go, you two. You both do need your rest."
Harry took Hermione's hand tenderly, pulling her past Remus and McGonagall, who were now trying to revive Moody (with little success), through the dungeon corridor, up the many moving staircases, and finally into the hospital wing. On the way, Hermione's eyes darted around; taking in the many sights that Hogwarts castle offered. She slowed at some of the portraits, seeming to recognize them, but continued to allow him to lead her through the castle.
"Harry, what the bloody hell is going on?" Ron questioned as soon as Harry entered the hospital wing. His eyes bulged when he saw Hermione. "What-Harry! What are you doing with a Death Eater?"
Ron pulled out his wand and trained it on Hermione.
A curse came flying from behind; Hermione dodged it skillfully by rolling to the floor, firing off another curse wandlessly while in motion, striking her attacker, Ginny Weasley, with a light Stinging Hex, causing the red-head to drop her wand. Harry summoned both the Weasley's wands and helped Hermione to her feet.
"Ron. Ginny. This is Hermione. She's not a threat, so you don't need to try to attack her at every waking moment." He ran a hand through his hair. "We both need to get some sleep, and then we'll explain everything, I promise."
Ron stared at them both for a moment. "Alright, Harry. But as soon as you wake up, we're going to have a long talk." He rubbed his neck, a small grin forming on his face. "I miss you, you know. We-we didn't know what had happened to you."
Harry clapped him on the shoulder and handed him both the wands. "I'll tell you all about it soon."
"Harry! You can't possibly trust her, can you?" Ginny screeched.
A sudden exhaustion washed through him, his journey to and from the dungeons and the fiasco in between finally catching up to him. Hermione seemed to somehow sense his abrupt fatigue and wrapped a steadying hand around his bicep. He sent her a grateful glance.
"Ginny-I do trust Hermione, and if you trust me, you'll trust her through association."
"But, Harry-"
"No, Ginny. No, buts," Harry sighed, heading toward his hospital bed.
"Fine!" She hissed. "But it'll be on you when she betrays us all." She then stomped out, Ron following her with an apologetic shrug.
"Pleasant girl," Hermione muttered. "Not that I can blame her, Harry." She bit her lip. "I shouldn't be here."
Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Madame Pomfrey bustling in from the back room, floating at least 10 different potions behind her.
"Mr. Potter! Lay down in that bed at once. Miss Granger, you too. I know you haven't slept or eaten in 48 hours!"
Harry glanced at Hermione worriedly.
"You were unconscious." Hermione explained. "And I didn't trust anyone else enough to let my guard down."
"Hermione-"
"Hush. I'm fine, Harry."
"You'll sleep now though."
It was not a question or request, but Hermione appeared to take it as such. "I'm not sure, Harry. I should probably be on my way-"
"You've got to be kidding."
Hermione frowned. "I most certainly am not. Like it or not, I'm a Death Eater, and while I'm certainly not going back to the Dark Lord, I'm about as welcome here as I am with him." The tone of her voice turned business-like. "I'll owl you with details of what occurred after you went unconscious, but really, there's no need for me to stay here and make your entire Order nervous; you lot have quite enough to be worried about."
Harry grabbed her wrist gently. "Hermione."
She continued on as if he had not spoken. "Not to mention I'll likely be cursed and harassed nearly constantly while I'm here. Everyone will be in the right to do so, of course. They have no reason to trust me, and neither do you for that matter. For all you know this could be some elaborate-"
"Hermione," Harry said again, softly.
"I-I just don't think-"
"Stay," he murmured, tugging her closer to him.
Hermione sighed but nodded. Harry grabbed his wand off the bedside table where he had left it and enlarged his hospital bed.
Hermione's eyes widened. "Harry-"
"Mr. Potter!" Snapped Madame Pomfrey, bringing another collection of potions into the room. "What is the meaning of this?"
"I have no intention of letting Hermione out of my reach before things calm down. Madame Pomfrey, you know I hold you in the highest regards, but this is not up for discussion."
Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips. "Very well, Mr. Potter. If this is what I have to put up in order to return you to health, then so be it."
Harry smiled, turning to Hermione. "Well?"
"Fine," she agreed with a small smile of her own.
Madame Pomfrey handed a pair of bedclothes to each of them. "I must insist that we retain some form of propriety-Miss Granger, change in the adjacent bed-hangings."
"Yes, ma'am."
He was only half-way done putting on his pajamas when he heard a screech from the area where Hermione was changing. Without a second thought, he raced through the curtains and found himself facing a thoroughly irritated Hermione Granger, standing only in her drawstring pajama bottoms and a lacy green bra.
"Miss Granger! For Merlin's sake! How did you manage to neglect telling me about that?" Madame Pomfrey, presumably the owner of the previous screech, scolded.
Harry, once past the admittedly pleasant shock of seeing Hermione in so little clothing, realized that a large, angry, red line ran down her side, starting on her right upper ribcage and cutting down across her stomach to her left hip bone.
"I've had worse," Hermione said, waving her off. "Just hand me back my wand and I'll fix it right-"
"You most certainly will not! Stand still! I'll go gather some more potions." She bustled out of the curtains, grumbling under her breath.
"Erm-" Harry stuttered.
The corner of Hermione's lip turned upward. "A parting gift from Bellatrix Lestrange."
Harry blinked. "What?"
Hermione's eyes sparkled. "The wound; Bellatrix did it just before I portkeyed us away. That's what you're looking at, yes?"
"Oh! Erm-yeah."
Madame Pomfrey came back, along with two potions and a jar of greenish-gray salve. Harry imagined it would smell rather bad.
"Drink this first, and then this, and then-Mr.Potter! Propriety! Let's maintain some propriety!"
"Oh-erm-sorry-I'll just-" He pushed back through the curtains and flopped onto the oversized bed, running a hand through his hair. He lay there for a few moments, trying to organize his thoughts.
"Mr. Potter. You'll be taking the potions sitting on that table over there." He starred darkly at the number of liquids waiting for him. "And I'm not running a brothel! A shirt, Mr. Potter-put on a shirt!"
Harry grumbled before throwing on the white t-shirt and grabbing one of the potions on the table.
"If you glare any harder, that vial might explode."
He smirked, but it faded quickly as he saw the end of the now lightened scar where her shirt cut off. "Are you okay? That looked pretty nasty."
"I'm fine. Your healer fixed me up. Now drink up; I'm not exactly sure what happened to you when you drank my altered potion, but it couldn't have been good for you."
"I'd go through it all again to get that bit of Voldemort out of my head," he quirked before draining the first potion.
"I suppose you'd like to talk about what happened before meeting with everyone in your Order tomorrow." She flopped onto the opposite side of the bed, stretching out and letting her body melt into the mattress. "Merlin, this is heavenly."
"That'd be best, I think," he replied, onto his fourth potion by then. "But only if you're up for it."
She sighed and propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."
Finished with his potions, he rolled onto the bed, coming to rest near her side. "I do though," he replied honestly. "I care about you, Hermione."
Hermione bit her lip, but managed to maintain a neutral face. "You shouldn't. It's foolish."
"Rubbish. I know you feel the same way I do; there's no use trying to reason me out of it."
Her expression melted into something resembling affection. "I knew I shouldn't have let you into my mind."
Harry sat up quickly. "What? You mean-that's why I've been-"
"Able sense certain things about me? Yes, I think so. Sometimes I get waves of emotion from you as well, but it's not a solid link, nor is it infallible; I was able to block it so you had no idea I was going to help you escape."
He leaned back down. "Thanks for that, by the way. I enjoy firmly believing I'm going to die; it's supposed to be good for the mind, I hear."
The corner of her mouth twisted upward, but it faded quickly. "I was afraid the Dark Lord would want to double-team Legilimens you, like we did with Snape. If I had told you, you wouldn't have been able to hide my plan from him, no matter how excellent an Occlumens you may be." She sighed and leaned into him, her hand coming to rest on his chest. "I'm sorry though. I barely managed to keep up the charade when I saw you on the ritual room floor-you looked-so despondent."
His hand came up to brush away a wayward curl that had fallen from her messy ponytail into her face. "Hermione, you don't have to apologize for anything; if your plan had been anything less than perfect, Voldemort would have found out, and we'd both be dead now. I understand your reasons."
"I knew I was doing what was necessary, but that knowledge didn't help much." She swallowed heavily. "Harry-you-you have this effect on me-one that I can't explain."
The sound of confusion mixed with frustration in her voice was unusual, but he understood. He felt the same way, after all. Despite this, he found responding difficult.
"Hermione-"
She shook her head. "Let's just move on, Harry. I-I don't-We have other things to discuss."
He nodded, mutely, feeling foolish and unsure.
Hermione moved back from him, rolling to rest on her back and stare at the ceiling. Her tone became business-like, and her expression dissolved into her customary blank mask that he so disliked. "After the potion caused you to pass out, the Horcrux began to leave your body, rather violently." She paused, thinking. "It's not something that you can see, really. But you can feel it-an essence of absolute darkness. It feels like a void, almost, a void in the fabric of the air. I've seen and used quite a bit of Dark Magic, but it was-different-darker-it captivated you; even the Death Eaters who couldn't really feel it could sense something."
Harry glanced over to observe her; though her face was still expressionless, her body seemed rigid.
"The Dark Lord was ecstatic, laughing and telling us that we were to witness his full rebirth. But then-then the horcrux exploded, due to the alterations I introduced to the potion."
"Exploded?"
"Yes-the magic was just ripped apart. It felt like-like it was screaming-like it was trying to take everyone down with it. I felt it pass through me, like malevolent ice-trying to gasp my magic and turn it to its purpose." She shuddered. "I don't know how that thing was inside of you all this time."
Harry shrugged. "I only noticed it when my connection to Voldemort was channeled through it-then it hurt like a bitch."
"You must have had some defense against it, though I can't imagine what. What could possibly combat something so powerful? Something so purely vile?"
He knew she meant the question rhetorically, but found himself answering quietly. "Dumbledore told me it had something to do with how my mum sacrificed herself to save me."
Hermione looked thoughtful. "Unconditional love. I've read about some powerful rituals involving such sacrifice; some of them can be triggered rather unintentionally."
Harry winced at her analytical tone, and though she did not notice his expression, she reached over to touch his arm gently. "I don't mean to scrutinize your mum's sacrifice Harry; I know it's more than that for you-I'm just trying to understand. If such a force protected you against Voldemort then, it's possible it could work when you face him again."
"I don't want anyone else to die because of me, Hermione!" He said forcefully. "There has to be another way. Voldemort is nearly mortal-"
"Is mortal, Harry," Hermione corrected. "All the horcruxes are destroyed."
"Hermione, I know you destroyed the one in my head, but Nagini-" He froze, remembering McGonagall's words from just after he had regained consciousness.
"-You killed Nagini."
She nodded, a smile flitting across her face. "After the horcrux exploded, there was mass panic. The Dark Lord was screaming in pain, and Bellatrix was trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Earlier, I had concocted a certain potion that attracted snakes, or more specifically, Nagini, and drank it; she crawled up onto my shoulder while the ritual was taking place, and during the commotion, I sliced off her head with my sai. I dove onto the ground and grabbed you, then activated the Portkey, but not before Bellatrix managed to hit me with a nasty slicing curse."
Harry gapped at her. "You're-you're brilliant!"
Curiously, a faint red color tinged her cheeks. "Well-"
"No, really-Gods, Hermione! You're amazing!"
He felt like laughing or, at the very least, shouting out in triumph. Instead however, he grabbed Hermione's wrist, pulled her onto his chest, cupped her face, and kissed her.
Clearly, a much better idea.
She let out a sound of surprise, but it was quickly muffled. Her body stiffened at first, her hands flattening on his chest, as though to push off from him, but then her fingers curled, taking in handfuls of his shirt, and she pressed her lips harder into his, her mouth opening to kiss him fully.
His hands moved down to rest on her hips, his thumbs brushing against the smooth skin in between her bottoms and t-shirt. She shifted so her legs were on either side of him, straddling him and rubbing against him in delightful places. He groaned and flipped them over, his right hand sliding down to her thigh, his left bracing their movement, gripping the sheets just beside her head.
"Hermione-" he murmured into her ear, breaking away.
"We should-oh!" His lips had found her neck, his teeth grazing the skin.
"We-sh-should stop," she breathed, her free leg hooking around his.
He pressed her further into the mattress, reveling in the hot heat the friction of their bodies produced. "Why?"
She moaned, grinding her hips against his. "I-I don't-"
His lips found hers once again, tasting her, teasing her, feeling her.
A loud bang sounded from just outside the curtains; they pulled away from each other, breathing heavily, their bodies tense.
"Oh, bother," came the irritated voice of Madame Pomfrey.
Her footsteps faded, leaving only the heavy breathing of Harry and Hermione behind.
Hermione was first to speak, wetting her lips before beginning. "You-We shouldn't have done that."
Harry did not move from his position above her. "What are you so afraid of?"
"Nothing," she hissed. "This is just a terrible idea. We're in the middle of a bloody war; I'm a Death Eater, and you're the savior of the Order, and we've only known each other for two months! It makes absolutely no sense that-"
"We have something, Hermione, something amazing and intense and wonderful. If you think I'm going to let that go-let you go-just because you're afraid-"
"I'm not afraid, Harry!" She pushed herself up, only managing to move her face closer to his. "You're absolutely delusional if you think this is going to work! It's lust; nothing more."
"Don't be ridiculous," he growled.
"Ridiculous? Hardly! You know nothing about me, Harry!" She moved to push him off her, but he grabbed her wrists gently.
"I know that you hate looking weak, but you hate having to hide your emotions all the time. I know that you just want to be appreciated-that you hate that you're judged on who your parents were. I know you think there's no good left in the world-that it doesn't matter who wins this war because either way there won't be the right sort of change. I know that you have nightmares almost every night-about the people you've killed, the families you've destroyed. I know your favorite book is Hogwarts A History, because you wish you could have gone there, that you speak three languages fluently, that your favorite color is green, that you love the rain, because you think it's cleansing, that you believe in equal rights for all creatures, that your favorite song is Hotel California. And I know you're afraid of what's happening between us because it causes you to feel so many things-it scares you." Harry paused, loosening his grip on her wrists. "And it scares me too, because it's so much, so fast. But it's right, Hermione, we're right."
She did nothing to hide the swirling emotions from her face or his mind. Reaching up to touch his cheek, she finally nodded. "You-You're right. I'm terrified. I-I'm so afraid that I'll distract you, or we'll become too attached, or you'll die or I'll die-It could end badly in so many ways."
"If you thought like that, you'd never get anything done," He replied with a wry smile.
"But this is more, Harry. So much more."
"Exactly. It's worth the risk."
"I don't-"
"Trust me, Hermione."
"I do," she whispered without hesitation.
He shifted off her, but pulled her into his chest, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Then trust me enough to let me care about you-and show that I do."
"Okay," she murmured, nestling her head into the crook of his shoulder.
"Good," he breathed.
He closed his eyes, the exhaustion taking over, and drifted into his first restful sleep in months.
Notes:
A few people had guessed that Hermione would alter the potion to destroy the Horcrux, but not Harry-nice guessing guys!
I think Madame Pomfrey would develop a certain soft spot for Harry after so many years of taking care of him, hence the reason why she may let the rules slide every once and a while for him.
Harry and Ron, I think, would have an even stronger bond if Hermione had not been present. In this case, I chose to make Ron trust Harry more, even to the point that he would wait to let him best mate get some rest before questioning him.
Ginny, on the other hand… well, she's not as patient, since she's not as close to Harry. Though, I imagine she wishes she were. Overall, the Weasley kids won't play a large role in this story though; it's only 8 chapters after all, and there's a lot to go through before the end.
Hermione's knowledge of the Horcruxes comes from both what Voldemort had to tell her to create the potion and her own research.
Sorry about the URST. I know, I'm just terrible.
During those two months, Harry and Hermione spent many hours a day, just talking. Harry would have learned a great deal about her (and she about him), through both observation and conversation.
Chapters should be coming much quicker now, since it's summer! I'll definitely have a chapter up once a week until the story is complete!
Thanks for reading, and for all the great reviews so far!
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