The Third Day - Part 3
"But it healed, I know it did," Harry said.
"Yes, fine. Let's go on," McGonagall said. "It was right after that that you and Hermione and Ron went to Gringotts? And Hermione Polyjuiced herself as Bellatrix?"
"Yes." Harry nodded, as Polyjuice - Bellatrix joined the list. "She had one of Bellatrix's hairs on her sweater-from Malfoy Manor. And she used Bellatrix' wand too. She didn't like it though-said it didn't work properly for her, that the wand was like a bit of Bellatrix."
"Very interesting. I think we're right, Minerva, about the protection."
"What protection?" Harry almost shouted.
Professor McGonagall picked up her wand from the desk and twirled it slowly in her fingers. "We suspect-we don't know for sure-but we suspect that when Hermione took Bellatrix's form and used her wand, it neutralized--suspended--the curse from the knife." She paused, as Harry began to realize the implications of what she was saying.
"So that's why the cut healed?"
"We think so. Well, partly, anyway. The other part was Hermione's own strength, her ability to fight hate and Dark Magic," she added, her eyes blazing with fierce pride. "But then, just hours before you defeated Voldemort, she had another run-in with Dark Magic. Hermione told me yesterday that she and Ron went to the Chamber of Secrets alone, to collect fangs from the skull of the basilisk that Riddle brought back to life in your second year."
"That's right. They destroyed a horcrux, Hufflepuff's cup," Harry confirmed. "Oh. I see now. It was Hermione who did it. She took the fang in her hand. She stabbed the cup. But what does that mean? Ron was there too, and he's fine. And nothing happened to him months ago after he stabbed the locket." Only before he stabbed it, Harry thought, remembering the spectral images of himself and Hermione, their taunting kiss, and his denial to Ron-his lie.
Slughorn rose from his seat as McGonagall added Cup Horcrux - Basilisk fang to the list. "Before it is killed and at its death, a horcrux emits a surge of evil-which quickly dissipates," he explained. "If that were the only thing Hermione had to face….but she was already weakened by everything else she had suffered. Harry, did you notice any effect on her magic, after she destroyed the Horcrux?"
"Well, when we met the dementors outside the castle, she could barely summon her Patronus-and it quickly faded. But mine and Ron's didn't last either. Luna, Ernie, and Seamus had to save us."
"Remember, Horace, that Hermione told us that the wound did not reopen until the next day, after Harry defeated Voldemort, the day Bellatrix was killed." McGonagall was twirling her wand again, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Something else must have triggered the Odiosa curse. But what?" she said.
"What do you mean-triggered?" Harry asked.
Slughorn pulled on his dragonhide gloves and picked up the knife, examining it carefully. "The curse of Undying Hate feeds on hate. It can only be cast by someone consumed with hate. But the hate must live on--somehow. Bellatrix expected that if she were killed, it would be at the hand of a blood enemy, someone who hated as strongly as she did, someone who passionately desired her death--someone she would have wounded with the knife in battle, before her own life was taken."
Harry's mind raced. "So, whoever killed Bellatrix-if he killed her out of hate-and she had cut or nicked him with the knife-then the Odiosa curse would be cast, and he would die too."
"Yes, that's what we believe," McGonagall said.
"But that's not what happened, not at all," Harry exclaimed joyfully. "Hermione didn't kill Bellatrix. Yes, she was there in the Great Hall but it was Mrs. Weasley who cast the killing curse. So Hermione will be fine-she'll recover for sure."
"What did you just say, Harry? That Mrs. Weasley cast the killing curse? Are you sure?" McGonagall asked sharply.
"Oh, I didn't mean that," Harry said. "I…she…"
"This is very important Harry," Slughorn interrupted. "Did Mrs. Weasley use the Avada Kedavra curse on Bellatrix Lestrange? We must know the truth, the whole truth. Do not attempt to shield Mrs. Weasley or anyone else. Hermione's life should be your only concern."
Bile rose in Harry's throat at Slughorn's needless reminder. Hermione was his only concern; nothing and no one else mattered to him now. But he had to think. What had Mrs. Weasley said?
"They were fighting to kill, both of them," he said reluctantly. "I didn't hear what Mrs. Weasley said-or if she said anything at all--but the curse hit Bellatrix right over her heart and killed her instantly."
Silence filled the room, broken finally by Professor McGonagall's last entry: Bellatrix killed-Odiosa curse.
"I never would have thought it. Never. Molly using a killing curse," Professor McGonagall said.
"But she couldn't have known that Hermione had been injured by Bellatrix-or even that Bellatrix had potioned the knife," Slughorn protested.
"It doesn't matter, Horace. Unforgivable Curses are unforgivable for a reason. They have consequences. Harry defeated Lord Voldemort with a defensive spell. If Molly had done the same, then Hermione would have…would have…"
A sudden crack came from the back of the classroom. The cauldron nearest the door had split open, revealing a solid mass of potion, frozen hard, utterly black. Harry suddenly realized that the bubbling in the other cauldrons had stopped as well, and in the next moments each of them cracked in turn, as the Potion of Undying Hate froze to ice and expanded.
Professor McGonagall was shaking uncontrollably, so Harry leaped up and grabbed her arm, guiding her to an armchair in the corner of the room. He replaced her at the blackboard and drew a line under the terrible list.
"All right," he said forcefully, refusing to give way to the panic that was rising in his chest. "We know everything that happened. Now what do we do about it? You said there's no known antidote-that the Elixir is just keeping her alive, it isn't a cure. But there must be a cure. There can't be a curse driven by an evil so strong that there isn't a powerful good that can defeat it. I won't believe that. Otherwise we would all have been serving Voldemort for the past seventeen years." He glanced for a moment at the dozen cracked cauldrons. "I know-what about the Department of Mysteries-you know, the room that's always locked? Dumbledore told me about it-that what it holds is a power more wonderful and more terrible than death. The power is love, isn't it? Can we take Hermione there, give her some of that?"
"Oh, Harry. If only…" McGonagall sighed and shook her head.
"If only what?" Harry pressed.
"Behind that door wizards and witches study the power of love and hope and self-sacrifice, but the only love that is alive, that can heal, is the love we feel in our hearts," Slughorn said.
McGonagall was sobbing quietly, tears flowing down her cheeks. She looked up at Harry. "If Hermione hadn't been already so weakened. If she had taken the Odiosa curse when she was strong, confident of the love of her family, her friends, everyone here-then maybe that love would have sustained her, allowed her to withstand Bellatrix's hate. Oh I wish I could contact her parents, but there's no way they could be back in time….Imogen should be here soon-and Viktor. Although--"
"Although what?" Harry asked.
"The strongest love is love that is both given and received: it grows and multiplies within our hearts. I have no doubt at all that Viktor loves Hermione-has loved her for years. But I'm afraid that she does not return his feelings. In fact, I have long suspected that she gave her heart to-"
"To Ron, yeah, I know. I thought so too. But she told me, after the battle, that they didn't fancy each other, that they were better as friends. But she does love him as a friend-that counts for something, doesn't it?"
"Yes, certainly, Harry," Slughorn replied. "And we sent messages every way we could to the Burrow, to ask Ron to come back. Unfortunately, the Burrow is sealed for the day of mourning before the funeral, so Ron won't know about Hermione until this evening."
Harry gasped.
"We have all been taking turns with her, Harry," McGonagall said. "Not just Madam Pomfrey but all the teachers, her friends who are still here-Neville, Lavender and Parvati until they had to go home, Crookshanks of course."
"But that's not enough, is it? Or she'd have recovered by now." Suddenly Harry remembered what else
Dumbledore had told him that fateful night of Sirius' death-that his love, Harry's love, his heart, had saved
him from possession by Voldemort. His love for Hermione was strong and pure, greater than the love he'd felt for
anyone. Would it be enough? It had to be. He forced a thin smile at the two professors, who sat unmoving, stricken by
the revelations of the past hour. "I'm going back to Hermione. I'll stay with her."
Professor McGonagall inclined her head slightly and nodded at Harry. "Remember, Harry. Love isn't how you feel. It's what you do."
AUTHOR NOTE: I need to acknowledge Madeleine L'Engle's A Wind in the Door, for the memorable final line of this part.
So did anyone see the Molly twist coming? This is something Rowling would NEVER do, though the context is fully established in canon.
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