Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 41 - Conflicted

As far as Hermione was concerned, things with Harry were just as she expected... not according to plan. As she stood in front of a poster on advanced plant cross pollination, she cast him a quick glance at the opposite corner of the room, thankful for the moment she could have without his aura interfering with her thought processes.

You don't really believe that aura hogwash do you?

Of course not. But if you come up with a better explanation, I'm happy to rethink it.

This wasn't a good time to be arguing with herself either but that was how bad things were. She needed a sounding board; she needed to talk to Ginny. She tried Ginny's mobile but got her voicemail. She left one, a rambling one...

"Hey, it's me. So...I'm here pretending to be looking at plant pictures...he's over there looking at a painting...it's bad...call me...", then just as she was about to hang up, added, "Oh! And we ran into the Bruins."

Right after, she realized how crazy that sounded, which was kind of good since it stressed urgency. A mental regroup was necessary.

Priority.

Potion.

Goal.

Stop reproduction.

Focus.

Right.

Stop thinking about him.

That should be easy. Your mind draws a blank when he's close and he's been too close.

And don't encourage him.

Not that he needs encouragement.

Hermione threw him another furtive look. She was sure he had not moved from the spot and was seemingly engrossed with the small painting on the wall. She sighed. Why did this have to be so complicated? If only he would do as she asked and just let her go.

She turned away to stare blankly at the poster before her, odd looking trees stared back. Where to start?

The phial. The phial was to blame. Had she not seen it and had she not been curious about what was in it she wouldn't have stayed. Had she not stayed, she wouldn't have found herself with the potion and she wouldn't have made that pitch to him to keep it from the Ministry. She wouldn't have met Floyd and she wouldn't be feeling this mixed up about Harry.

Earlier, as she took care of his injuries, she overheard his partner describe what the Squib did to him. A panic overcame her as she realized that he almost died, again. Life was too short, seemingly shorter all the time with him, and she kept thinking about having regrets. It was déjà vu. She asked herself how she would feel if he died today.

Her answer annoyed her and added to her irritation of his partner having really good points about what he was doing to 'get into her pants'. If she were Andy she would have probably said the same things to her, using less repugnant language, of course. And she had to be honest with herself. Despite the fact she had no right to be, she was jealous of the blonde woman and the obvious easy-going relationship she had with Harry.

So, Hermione had to stay in Toronto longer than she wanted to, spend time with him much more than she was prepared to, and deal with emotions she never intended to, all because she recognized the bloody phial!

The phial was to blame.

She had moved on to the next poster, half read the blown up journal article that boasted of the first set of transgenetic mice.

He's telling the truth about this Squib, Floyd.

Maybe.

He has no reason to lie.

He has lied to you before.

What if Ron was murdered?

It makes no difference.

What if he really loves you?

She ended that train of thought. It was starting to creep up on her…hope…possibility…an exercise she was certain would only hurt both of them even more. She had trodden this path with him before and she should have learned her lesson. Really, she should think no further than earlier in his living room; how she wanted to and they almost but she couldn't.

It was quite obvious that Harry thought her lack of enthusiasm to see or talk with him the past year was because of what he did to her as Roy Hunt; that it was punishment. But it wasn't about him. It would have been easier to address if it were.

Hermione seriously just wanted him to stop; she wanted them both to move on, she wanted him to leave her alone. She was avoiding him all this time hoping he would do so without resistance and they wouldn't have to talk about what happened. She didn't want to talk about what happened because she knew that if they did, this would happen. He would make sense, be believable, and she'd consider giving them a second chance. Like him, a part of her could not let go even though it would be the right thing to do.

The right thing to do...she still thought letting go was, but now with less conviction than before. She missed him; his face, his voice, his hair, his presence, and their talks. She missed him much more than she thought she did. The longing was eating up her resolve and his open advances were effectively nibbling through her defenses. She couldn't dismiss him as easily as she thought she could and should, considering what he did to her. Somewhere within her bruised and hardened exterior was her old self who already believed that he had good reason, that he did not mean to do what he did, that she should give him a chance to explain and make things better between them.

There was merit to Andy's crude remarks about her and her shoddy treatment of Harry in the past year. But having him back in her life was not an option for her. She could not trust herself not to betray Ron again and she couldn't live with herself if she did. So, she hid from him, thankful that he didn't know what her avoidance was truly about, not thinking that Harry needed his own peace of mind. She did not mean to hurt him.

She should just deal with it once and for all so they can both put this behind them. And for Harry, he would not be able to until he was satisfied she had all the facts. She knew what he was thinking; that she would change her mind if he proved to her what he knew was the truth.

If Harry is telling the truth, if Ron was murdered and if he seriously wants you in his life, what's the harm in giving it another try?

Needless pain and waste of time. It's not going to work.

You don't know that. What have you got to lose?

Not much, aside from the little pride you have left and the small morsel of dignity you're trying to hold on to. And there's Ron.

Maybe Ron didn't kill himself. Maybe it wasn't your fault Ron died.

You've been through this before. You've thought this before.

For the longest time she was convinced that she had pushed Ron beyond his limits and that he took his own life to prove a point - that she did not care about him as much as she did about Harry. Her actions spoke louder than words and while she never lied to Ron, she never had the heart to admit that fact to him either.

When Harry first mentioned the Squib a year ago she couldn't believe anything that came out of his mouth. Even then he had no reason to lie about that but Ron's unusual behavior on the pitch during that game made her conclude that his knowledge of what she had done with Harry and hearing her final decision about them took him over the edge.

She never talked about it, not even with Ginny who believed that all the guilt she had after Ron's 'accident' was because of the Roy Hunt affair. Right after Ron's funeral, there were times when she thought she would go insane thinking how Ron would still be alive had she done things differently, about what she could have done differently. The nightmares came. It seeped through her entire being and her every waking moment. Family, friends and work all suffered until Ginny broke through and injected enough sense in her. The nightly doses of dreamless draught she self medicated with helped and provided some respite from the remorse that she could never talk about with anyone.

It was a good thing that time did heal most emotional afflictions and Hermione did feel that after a year, she was going to be able to live some semblance of a normal life. But when Harry started sending her more notes recently, she began entertaining the idea that she was wrong and that there was truth to what he had said all along. A few times she had actually thought about looking into it but the certainty of having to come to Harry to ask for information froze her. She asked Kingsley in passing once and even Kingsley said there was no proof. Hermione decided not to proceed, telling herself that if it could be proven Harry, or someone else, would have done so by now.

It wasn't that she didn't want to confirm what really happened to Ron but every time she thought about the likelihood of her being mistaken and of maybe, on her own, investigating Ron's death, she would question her motive. Did she really want justice for Ron or did she just want to feel better about herself and feel less culpable for what she had done? And was she hoping that with less guilt everything would be honky-dory between her and Harry?

In the end she always circled back to the fact that how Ron died would not make him less dead. It would not take away the sorrow she felt each time she thought of him or the disgust she felt because of what she did.

She realized now that she should give this thing that happened between her and Harry the same finality she had given hers and Ron's. She would have to look Harry in the eye and tell him straight that knowledge of the truth, whatever that was, didn't change the fact that they could never be the way they were. She'd have to tell him that she actually preferred not knowing because knowing would hurt more. She had a feeling he would not understand.

The question was would she be strong enough to do that? Or, would she cave in and listen to the other voice of reason about giving them a second chance? That voice that still desperately wanted to believe that he really did want a life with her, that deep down he was still the decent and good man she had known him to be and that she could still have what she wanted to have with him. It was the same nagging voice that reminded her how most of their lives she had wished for him to be happy, hating the fact that she couldn't do much more than she was doing and now that it seemed she could directly influence that, she was causing the exact opposite.

She was desperate to talk with someone about Ron more honestly; better Ginny than Harry.

Hermione moved over to her side to the next poster. It was a futuristic one, Star Trek like. It was a news article dated in the year 2159 and it was about the discovery of the one pill that would cure-all.

Panacea, Medicine's Holy Grail

The fictional distraction was welcome but it made her think of the Squib Holy Grail and the Bruins. Keeping the purple potion from the Ministry was an impulsive decision and truth be told she wasn't a hundred percent sure it was right one. Her excuse was impaired judgment from seeing and talking with Harry for the first time in almost a year. Several times already, even before hearing Andy make some annoyingly very good points, she had asked herself who did she think she was? What gave her the right to make this decision and what made her do something so stupid so as to jeopardize her and Harry's careers? It was definitely a decision that was not well thought out.

She was a Healer, in Toronto on some unrelated mission, and by fluke happened upon a magic enabling potion. It was coincidence she was there. She could have just let things play out as if she wasn't but she just couldn't help herself. She just couldn't help thinking about horrifying possibilities and she felt a compelling urge to act, to do what she could to prevent or at least protect against it. They were definitely in a heap of trouble, but she couldn't worry about that right now.

And she still couldn't think of any reason why the Squib would want her. Maybe it was just as Floyd said, that she would be leverage, but she found that hard to believe. Not that she wanted the Squib to, but Harry was there and Floyd could have just taken him or killed him. Floyd didn't really need leverage. It didn't make sense.

The more she thought about it the more she thought that unlikely. She heard Floyd shout out to his men not to hex her. He didn't want her hurt. But was it her specifically that he wanted or what she did? And she had come to Toronto on an almost spur of the moment decision and had been there not even two hours. How did Floyd know where she was?

"Hermione, this is a pleasant surprise!"

Professor Deng Tan greeted her from the room entrance with a wide smile on his face.

"Professor," she returned the Asian looking man's smile and they walked towards the other, gave each a peck on each cheek as Harry joined her side, "This is Harry Potter, a friend of mine. Harry, this is Professor Deng Tan."

Harry shook the older man's hand and they exchanged pleasantries. She introduced Harry as a friend. She hoped Harry would read less into that than she was.

"It has been too long. How are you?" Professor Tan asked Hermione.

"Just fine. And you?"

Hermione had last seen him years ago at some conference although they spoke by Floo about work when they had projects together.

"If I felt any better I wouldn't need health insurance!" he chided. "So, have you finally decided to come to stay and work with me?"

She laughed and he joined her. He always asked her that although he anticipated she would always decline.

"Professor Tan has gathered a throng of detractors for unabashed poaching from research oriented hospitals like St. Mungo's," Hermione explained to Harry. "Some of his recruiting methods are, should I say, unacceptable?"

Most were incensed at his brazen techniques but she found him harmless and amusing. He did so because he was driven to have the world's best Magical research team.

"I'm just innovative and subtlety was never one of my stronger points," he admitted. "You should see our preliminary findings on the modified Wolfbane potion you sent us last week for testing. It looks promising."

"That's great news," Hermione replied. She was looking forward to the phase two Toronto results, hoping the experimental potion would pass the clinical safety testing. But she was there on a different matter. "Professor, is there somewhere private we can talk?"

The professor appraised her and Harry before finally saying, "Of course, you know how much I love secrets. Can he be trusted?"

That was debatable.

She nodded.

Professor Tan led them into the restricted area through a magically locked gate, and up a steep flight of stairs. They found themselves on an elevated hanging walkway flanked by laboratories on either side and followed the professor through the long path which ended in front of an oversized door. He waved his wand. It unlocked itself and they stepped into a windowless interview room, plainly outfitted with an oval wooden desk and a few matching chairs. Off to one corner was a closed exit without any knobs.

He motioned for them to sit and asked as he sat in front of them, "How can I help you?"

Harry spoke before she could, "We'd really appreciate it if you could tell your staff in the other room to take a ten minute break and to shut off the recording devices on their way out."

She tried to hide her surprise and was more successful at it than the professor, who had averted his attention to the wall on their right and spoke a few words in what she could tell was Cantonese, his second language. She met Harry's gaze and read his thoughts. It was a caution, to be selective about what to say, if she still wanted to proceed as she planned. She nodded slightly.

"I'm so sorry about that. I seldom use this room and forgot we use it for observation of adverse experimental reactions."

"Excuse me," Harry said once again and suddenly Disapparated.

An awkward few seconds followed as both she and Professor Tan didn't know what to make of his departure, until they heard a loud crash nearby. Harry reappeared and quickly explained.

"Your staff forgot to turn off one of your Eavesdroppers and I didn't know how to. I think I may have ruined it," he deadpanned.

She loved how he said that, and noticed the professor turning slightly red in the face. She had read somewhere that Eavesdroppers were expensive magical gadgets that had a pick up range of 2 to 500 decibels within ten feet. She couldn't think he did that on purpose but she had known of the Professor's reputation about bending certain rules and expectations if he could get away with it. Unfortunately they really needed a Level 5 lab and his was the most well equipped that she knew in the area. He was also probably the only one who would allow her to use his lab to do what she was about to do.

"We apologize for the inconvenience but we need your help and I'm afraid I can't tell you much, at least not to the extent that I know would satisfy your curiosity."

"What is this about, Hermione?"

"I need to use your most shielded lab to take apart an unknown potion. It's likely a Class F."

That should require no further explanation. Class F's were potions containing magical being as ingredients. As far as the Potion Registry was concerned, they existed only in theory and internationally banned. What she was about to do was not only illegal, it was also dangerous.

"Will you need my or my staff's assistance?"

"I won't."

XXXXXXXXXX

The Potion Master had just come from St. Mungo's on that little errand and got a panicky call from Toronto.

"Tom's been hurt," the woman was concerned. "He tried to nab Granger, there was fighting, the Bruins came to help and Potter's partner tried to run him over with a car. She crushed his legs."

He already heard about this from a pissed off Lestrange. Floyd wasn't supposed to make second contact with Potter but calling him the idiot that he was was a waste of effort.

"He has the patience of a two year old," he retorted. The Squib was still needed. "Can you fix him up in time?"

"I'll try."

"And hide him well. His premature display of his skill while on the potion will make his death a priority for the Bruins."

He was not pleased that Potter now knew what to expect but there was nothing he could do about that.

"I'll try."

"What about the training?"

"It's coming along as you expected."

"Do we need more potion?"

"We have enough. The Squibs should be ready in four days."

"Make it two."

"We're pushing it up. Good. They won't expect it. I'll make the arrangements."

"I'll see you tonight."

XXXXXXXXXX

Ginny was at Gringotts waiting with other reporters just outside the conference room where the interrogation of the Sir Isaac Umber was taking place. They had been in there for at least an hour, invited to hear the post inquiry briefing of the sham that was happening and everyone was getting antsy. The Goblins were not very good hosts and provided really crappy refreshments.

After she left Umber's office she got back to researching him some more. Interestingly enough, there was a lot of information about his life and works but none about his family. She couldn't find any names of kin in any of his public records, Muggle or magical, as if there was a deliberate attempt to hide it. His birth records had been conveniently 'misfiled' and even his Hogwarts records did not contain the names of his parents, who were referred to in documents as Mr. and Mrs. Umber.

What she did find was an obscure Muggle article dated a few years back about a trip to Toronto and he was photographed without his knowledge with an 'unknown family member'. She would have to confirm but she was almost certain that the man that was standing beside him in the picture was a younger Ecruminus Brown, current leader of the Association for the Protection of Squibs.

She wanted to call the Prophet Research and Archive Section to see if someone could pull the Squib's file while she was stuck at Gringotts but Muggle phones didn't work in the building. She sent a note through the bank's courtesy owl service, instead.

Just as she got back to her seat, the double doors to the conference room swung open widely and the bank's Lead Goblin Kurnuk emerged, stone faced as he passed them on his way to the podium. He was followed by the rest of his entourage. One of his goblin advisers gave her a slight nod in greeting. Last to appear was Umber, serene and composed. His body language already told her what the outcome of the interrogation was and she smiled back when he glanced over to where she was and gave her a wink. She didn't know how but he pulled it off and wondered if he would grant her another interview.

"Thank you all for coming," Kurnuk spoke to them in a forceful voice, his minions behind and Umber beside him, "I'm pleased to announce that Sir Isaac Umber has been cleared of any wrongdoing in the robbery that took place yesterday."

Click! Click!

Cameras flashed as the goblin and Umber shook hands. Several voices vied for attention.

"Mr. Umber..."

"Mr. Kurnuk..."

"Sir Isaac..."

One of the ones in the front got pointed at and he fired off a question.

"Sir Isaac, how does it feel to be publicly exonerated?"

"A huge relief," the knight replied, "As you can imagine, it has been a difficult time for my family."

She guessed he meant the family he was hiding from the public eye.

More questions.

"Mr. Kurnuk, what made Gringotts come to this final conclusion?" another of her colleagues asked.

"Mr. Umber has provided us with overwhelming evidence it was someone else," Kurnuk answered.

Really? Umber did not even flinch. He wanted Kurnuk to say that.

"Who robbed your bank, Mr. Kurnuk?" Ginny asked what everyone else wanted to know.

There was silence as everyone waited, each of them wondering if the bank would continue to look for believable scapegoats to pin the crime on. The answer they got was a bit of a shock.

"As of right now, Gringotts Bank, its international and Muggle affiliates have frozen the vaults and assets of Bellatrix Lestrange," he announced and the group of reporters around her gasped. "We urge her to come forward as soon as she is able and provide contradicting evidence to clear her name. She can be assured of safe passage during the interrogation."

The Lead Goblin and his staff were obviously uncomfortable and distressed about what they had done. They left in a rush, ignoring the clamors for more answers to more questions. Gringotts had just declared war on the Death Eaters. There would be a high price to pay for inconveniencing Lestrange.

And Umber was either very brave or a closet lunatic. How he managed to persuade the goblins of his innocence and to openly accuse Lestrange was beyond her imagination. But one thing was certain in her mind as she exchanged looks with the unruffled wizard.

She was staring at a very dead man.

A/N . I told someone Umber scares me. He's a rogue, an unpredictable sort.

I've added a glimpse of the potion master, the change in the evil plan and what's happened with Floyd.

So, about Hermione and her current state of conflict - I know a lot think she's avoiding Harry because of what he did as Roy Hunt. She really isn't. She's not playing victim that some have concluded from her actions. She knows and admits she started this all with her desire for a last fling. She just wants Harry to let go but is afraid of the conversation that they have to have about it. She's afraid she can't let go once they talk about the truth and now she realizes that they have to so they can both move on. Conflicted...

I hope that explains Hermione a bit more although I know some will find it irritating that she can't tell Harry what this really is about for her. Some might know her well enough to know and understand why.