Chapter Eleven
UNTOLD STORIES
But, for the second time that school year, Hermione beat the odds. The next afternoon, Harry and Ron found themselves sitting in the hospital wing at her bedside. She was sleeping peacefully, as she had been since they found her, but Madam Pomfrey assured them it wouldn't be much longer before she came to.
The boys had had a lot of explaining to do when they had returned to Hogwarts with her and even a bit of a punishment, but it was well worth it to hear those words. Hermione looked a thousand times better at the moment, even fast asleep, than she had almost exactly twenty-four hours before.
Even with all the injuries she had seen in the past, Madam Pomfrey had been properly horrified to see Hermione. Besides the bruising on her face, which had turned out to be a broken jaw, she had broken ribs, a broken wrist, a bad gash on the back of her head, and several more on her stomach and back. She had minor cuts and bruises just about everywhere, it seemed. However, Harry and Ron had a feeling Madam Pomfrey hadn't even gotten into all of it with that list. Still, she was being much kinder about letting them sit with her, so they weren't going to question anything.
"Think she'll shoo us away when she wakes up?" asked Ron suddenly.
Harry shook his head. "I think she had a concussion. Hopefully she won't even remember she's `keeping her distance' from us."
"A wizard can hope, right?" said Ron with a chuckle.
"Still watching over Miss Granger, I see?" said a familiar voice behind them. The two boys turned, not surprised to see Dumbledore standing there. He had been in and out all day, wanting to talk to Hermione as soon as she woke up. Now that everyone was sure Hermione was okay, he held hope she would know something about the other five missing students. "You three truly are the best of friends."
"Tell her that," muttered Ron, but Harry elbowed him to keep him from saying it loud enough for Dumbledore to hear.
"You know," said Dumbledore, taking a seat next to them, "not a lot of friends would have shown the kind of courage you did yesterday. I just talked to Professor McGonagall, who has agreed to cancel your detentions, and I feel that one hundred points each should be awarded to Gryffindor. Of course, I'm sure the best reward will come when Hermione does wake up."
"It will," said Harry sincerely. "Madam Pomfrey says it will be any time now."
"Good," said Dumbledore. "I had been hoping to speak with Miss Granger, but I don't know if there will be a need to now. The real reason I decided to pay you this visit is because I have news. The five other missing students have been found."
"They have?" exclaimed Harry.
"Alive?" Ron wanted to know.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Every one of them alive, and not a one of them injured."
"Where were they all this time?" wondered Harry
"Right under our noses," said Dumbledore, "within the walls of this castle.
"How's that?" blurted Ron.
"After hearing that you found Hermione within the Life Circle," explained Dumbledore, "Hagrid and I went to check out the area. There wasn't anything odd there, but we followed the footprints and the-er, trail. Deep in the most forbidding part of the forest, we found a campsite and what appeared to be a piece of Miss Granger's robes. We also found a slip of paper-a map of the school. It showed the addition of a secret channel deep in the dungeons, and it was within this channel that we found our missing students."
"Who did it?" asked Harry.
"That, Harry, remains to be known," said Dumbledore sadly.
"What?" exclaimed Ron. "Won't one of the students tell you who stuck them there?"
"They were unable to identify their kidnapper," informed Dumbledore, "as they had all been stupefied with a highly advanced form of the spell immediately. They can't remember a single thing about the time they've been gone. It seems that they all share the same, untellable story."
"Oh," said Harry. He shot Ron a sideways glance.
"Exactly," said Dumbledore, standing, patting Harry's shoulder. "Tell Miss Granger I wish her my best. Seeing as the need to speak with her is no longer urgent, I will wait a few days before conversing with her. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be talking with Madam Pomfrey."
"Bloody hell, how could no one know that there was a secret channel in the school?" hissed Ron. "I think they'd notice if a whole other part had been added, even if it was underground!"
"They might not have checked," reasoned Harry. "Who would have thought to look in such an obvious place?"
"They should have," grumbled Ron. "They could have solved the problem before things started to get serious."
"I know what you mean," said Harry, his gaze going back to Hermione.
"Say, would you mind if I left for just a minute?" asked Ron a few moments later.
"No, I don't mind," said Harry. "Where are you going?" Immediately noticing the blush rising to his friend's cheeks, he had a good idea what this was about.
"Nothing," muttered Ron, looking away. "I just wanted to make sure that Anna hasn't died of happiness in seeing her brother again."
"Go," ordered Harry, punching Ron's arm with a laugh. Still looking away with his flushed cheeks, Ron waved as he scampered off to the door of the hospital wing. When he was out of sight, Harry looked to Hermione again. She had shifted slightly, and he couldn't help but think how peaceful she looked at the moment, even with her arm in a brace and large bruises still visible on her chin and above her eye. He could hear Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore back in the nurse's office, and try as he might, Harry couldn't help but listen to their conversation.
"I can't believe you!" Madam Pomfrey was calling. "It's too soon, Dumbledore. She needs some time to deal with this in her own way. I refuse to let you interrogate Miss Granger in her fragile condition."
"Poppy," returned Dumbledore impatiently, "it's important that I be able to speak with Hermione. She has a few broken bones and bruises, I see, but you've let me talk to worse before. I don't see what the big-"
"You don't know the half of it, Albus," insisted Madam Pomfrey. "There are certain things I've chosen to withhold at the moment on Miss Granger's behalf. You don't understand just what the poor girl has gone through. She's been violated in the worst of ways-"
Harry's attention snapped completely when he noticed Hermione shifting in the hospital bed, reaching her hand up to her face. She opened her eyes and looked right at him.
"Harry," she muttered, "you're here..."
"I am," said Harry, trying not to choke on his amazement. He scooted his chair closer to her bed, and she grasped his hand lightly. "I've been here for awhile. Ron has, too, and he'll be back."
"Okay," murmured Hermione. Her eyes shut again. "Who found me?"
"We did," said Harry, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Ron and I weren't about to give up on you... how are you feeling?"
"Better," said Hermione, opening her eyes again. She began shifting again, but she needed Harry's help to be able to sit up in the bed. She still looked a little out of it, like she was half. "It was so cold, Harry... it hurt so much... I thought I was going to die..."
"You're okay now," said Harry, swallowing hard. Hermione's grip on his hand tightened.
"I'm glad you're here," said Hermione softly. She seemed to be waking up, and she suddenly put both of her arms around his neck. Instinctively, Harry put his arms around her, and her head rested familiarly on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry about it," said Harry gently, patting her back, gently, so he wouldn't hurt her.
"Was it you?" she asked suddenly.
"Was what me?" said Harry, pulling back so he could see her face. Her warm brown eyes were studying him intently.
"Someone found me," whispered Hermione. "I was so cold, and everything still hurt. I think he knew me; I remember him saying my name. He carried me to the trees. I couldn't see his face..."
"I don't know who it was," said Harry. Hermione nodded, letting Harry pull her back into his arms.
"I'm glad you're here," she repeated.
* * *
On her promise to rest for the next several days, Madam Pomfrey reluctantly released Hermione from her care. Harry promised to help Hermione back the next morning for a checkup, and Professor McGonagall bent the rules a bit to allow him to help Hermione get settled in her dormitory.
"You know," said Harry thoughtfully, sitting at the edge of Hermione's bed, "this might be the mirror image of our part of Gryffindor, but there's just something about the girls' dormitory... It's a lot cleaner, for one... and a lot quieter without the Weasley twins blowing something up every five seconds."
Hermione laughed, and she gave Harry the first completely genuine smile she had in a long time. "That's not hard to imagine," she said. "Don't be fooled, though. Usually there's a hundred or so girls swarming around, giggling and gossiping about make-up and clothing and boys and Merlin knows what else. It really gets to me sometimes, and I'm sure if you ever witnessed it, you wouldn't blame me for trying to find somewhere else to study!"
"You don't need to worry about studying right now," said Harry. "You're supposed to be resting and relaxing, and I promised Madam Pomfrey I would see that you did."
"Harry," said Hermione impatiently, "O.W.L.S. are less than two months away!"
"No," said Harry. Her last statement had been so typically Hermione that he couldn't help but smile. He wanted nothing more than for her to be back to her usual self. "No Arithmancy charts, no History of Magic book, no Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. You're going to go to sleep and all that, or I'll take you right back to Madam Pomfrey."
"You wouldn't... would you?" questioned Hermione, and he caught her gazing longingly at her desk, where her schoolbooks were piled volumes thick. "Please Harry? I'm really not that tired... just one subject, please?"
A yawn interrupted her pleas, and Harry looked at her knowingly. She blushed. "You're not that tired, huh?" teased Harry. "Get some rest, Hermione. I should leave, anyway-Professor McGonagall will probably come drag me out of here if I don't."
Hermione sighed. "You're impossible, Harry."
"I am not," said Harry. His eyes met hers, and he noticed immediately that something seemed different. "I just want what's best for you."
"That's very sweet of you," said Hermione sincerely, "but I really don't need that much sleep."
"You've been through a lot," argued Harry. He stood up.
"I'm just fine," said Hermione, but Harry saw her look away with her words. It was almost as if she didn't want to look him in the eye. "Would you please hand me my extra blanket? It's lying on top of my wardrobe."
"It's not that cold, Hermione," said Harry, but he handed her the blanket anyway. He'd noticed her shivering throughout the time they'd been talking, and he figured she was still chilled from being outside for so long. Hermione took it from him, and she reached up to hug him. She kissed his cheek.
"Thank you for everything, Harry," said Hermione.
"It's not a big-"
"There you are, Mr. Potter. Come along now," said Professor McGonagall. She had just appeared in front of Hermione's room. Harry gave Hermione a small smile as he quickly walked out of the room.
* * *
"Where have you been?" asked Ron as Harry walked back into their room. "I think I got back to the hospital right after you left with Hermione. Did Madam Pomfrey really let her leave so soon?"
"Hermione promised that she'd take it easy and sleep for the next few days, and I promised I'd make her," explained Harry, and he chuckled, "and Hermione's pretty convincing when she starts begging."
"Have I ever seen her beg?" Ron wanted to know.
"You might," said Harry. "Anna still alive?"
"Huh?"
"You said that you were checking to make sure your girlfriend hadn't died of happiness," teased Harry.
"Oh yeah," said Ron sheepishly. "I talked to her for awhile, and then I actually talked to John. It was kind of scary, but I survived."
Harry laughed. "So they really don't remember anything?"
"Not a thing," said Ron, shaking his head. "The last thing any of them remembers is being alone in their dorm room or the library or wherever. The next thing they knew, they were waking up to cheers of `you're alive!' Snape kept muttering things about what powerful Dark Magic it was... but never mind. How's Hermione? What took you so long to get back here?"
"Professor McGonagall had me helping Hermione up to her room," explained Harry. "She only let me stay for a few minutes, until Hermione was settled in. She kept gazing at her books as if they were some long lost love."
Ron chuckled. "I can see her doing that," he said. "So she's back to normal? No avoiding the two of us anymore? Why'd she do that, anyway?"
"I didn't really press her on anything," admitted Harry. "She's still not in the greatest of shape. I mean, she's acting normally, but there's something different about her. She seems almost-"
"Almost what?"
"Defeated is the first word that comes to mind," said Harry, "but that couldn't be it. She managed to live through everything with a mark on her life, after all."
"Did she say anything about it?"
"No," said Harry, "we just talked a bit about classes and stuff. I figure she needs a few days. You know she'll tell us everything she remembers if she feels like it."
"Right," said Ron, "but I'm not going to get my hopes up. With my luck, she'll be back to hating us tomorrow."
"I don't think so," said Harry slowly. His mind kept drifting back to the tidbit of the conversation between Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey. "I think she'll come clean about whatever had her mad at the two of us."
"If you think so," said Ron slowly, "then I'll believe you. Think I'll get a chance to see her tomorrow? At least we were allowed in the hospital if we wanted to visit her."
"You could probably talk Professor McGonagall into it," said Harry. "I would suggest the prefect common room, but I have a feeling it doesn't hold the best memories for Hermione anymore."
"You don't say?" said Ron jokingly. "Come on, we should really get going."
"Where?" asked Harry. "Are we supposed to be somewhere?"
"Yes," informed Ron. "I was just waiting for you to get back. There's a huge feast about to be going on in the Great Hall. I had orders from Dumbledore to drag you in from the hospital so Hermione could get her rest, but then you weren't there. So Madam Pomfrey sent me back to Gryffindor, and Professor McGonagall intercepted me in the common room and told me to wait in the room..."
"I think I get it," said Harry with a laugh. "A huge feast?"
Ron nodded. "The smell in there was about to kill me right before I left! You could tell they were busy with something down in the kitchen, and it smelled wonderful... this is better than the usual feasts, I think!"
"Of-" started Harry, but he was cut off. Ron had already grabbed his arm and was pulling him in the direction of the door.
* * *
And Ron was right-the feast was even grander than the feasts at the start of term, Halloween, and even Christmas. The house-elves had really outdone themselves with lavish arrays of food prepared with no forewarning. There had been one particular chicken dish that had never been served before, and Harry found himself reloading his plate with seconds, thirds, and even fourths. He eventually reached the point of not being able to eat another bite without losing what he already had, but Ron and his brothers had continued to eat for a good thirty minutes. They were the last to finish, and then the tables had been cleared and tipped up against the walls. The feast had turned into a party of sorts, and Fred and Angelina had been leading half the school in an exuberant dance when Harry had slipped away. Ron had actually gotten a little sleep the night before in the hospital, but Harry hadn't, so, with Dumbledore's permission, he had headed back to the Gryffindor Tower to get some rest.
"Back so soon?" questioned the Fat Lady disapprovingly as he showed up at the portrait hole. "Where's your school spirit? You're lucky I hadn't left yet-Dumbledore said it would be quite a good time before anyone returned, and I was about to visit my friend Violet downstairs!"
"Queen of England," muttered Harry, wondering, not for the first time, where the portraits got their ideas for passwords.
The Fat Lady scowled at him as she swung open, still muttering things that Harry chose to ignore. He didn't stop in the common room on his way up to his room, just traipsing up the stairs to the boys' dormitory as quickly as he could. He glanced at his watch as he rummaged around for his pajamas. It was later than he had thought-a little after ten-and it made sense as to why he was so tired.
Harry figured he'd finally get some rest that night, spend the weekend with Hermione and Ron and his homework, and things would finally go back to normal at Hogwarts. He scratched his head as he looked around the room. It was starting to look a little neglected because he and Ron hadn't bothered cleaning it in several days. Harry had found his pajama bottoms, but the top was nowhere to be found. He was about to give up and get his others out of his trunk, but there was a sudden knock on the door.
"Harry? It-it's Hermione. May I come in?"
A look of confusion crossed Harry's face, but he scrambled over to the locked door to let her in. She had her robe thrown on top of her nightgown, which Harry recognized as the one she had been wearing all those months ago when she had come to Ron's room at the Weasley's. Harry shut the door behind her.
"What are you doing here?" blurted Harry. "You're supposed to be back in your room, sleeping."
Hermione gave him a pointed look as she reached up and placed a finger over his mouth to stop him. "I was down in the common room," she said softly, letting Harry lead her over to his bed, where she sat down. "Professor McGonagall came up from the feast twice to check on me, and she had started to feel sorry for me by the second go around. I'd been sleeping for hours, so she let me take a few books down to the common room for a while. I saw you come in."
"Doesn't mean you're supposed to be up here," said Harry, but he wasn't really mad. He was more worried about Professor McGonagall storming through and letting him have it for having a girl in his room.
"I know I'm not," said Hermione, as Harry sat down next to her. "I'm sorry, Harry. I just-I'm sorry. I couldn't stand to be alone anymore."
"Hey, it's okay," said Harry quickly. "What's wrong? Do you want to talk about it?"
Hermione was still looking away. "Oh, it's nothing."
"You wouldn't have come up here if it was nothing," said Harry, touching her shoulder. Much to his surprise, Hermione flinched and scooted away from him. She looked at him with wide eyes, and it finally clicked on him what was noticeable in her eyes: fear.
"You're right," said Hermione softly, "I wouldn't have, and I don't want to be a bother, but you're the only person I feel saf-comfortable with."
"I'm the only person you feel what with?" repeated Harry. He was almost sure she'd almost said safe, but he wasn't sure.
"Comfortable," said Hermione quickly, but one look at her told him that she knew he had heard her right the first time. "Don't get me wrong, Ron's still one of my dearest friends, but he's not exactly one for heavy conversation. I could probably talk to him, but you're a good listener and..."
"And what?" prompted Harry.
"I'm not sure," said Hermione, easing back toward him slowly. "It's just different with you."
"Thanks-I think," said Harry, and he paused. "So what's going on, Hermione? What do you want to talk about?"
"I-I-I don't-" stammered Hermione. Finally, Harry took her hand reassuringly, and she took a deep breath. "I don't know where to start."
"You can start wherever you want to," said Harry. "I don't even know what this is about, so it's not like I can even pressure you into telling me anything you don't want to."
Hermione nodded. "You probably want to know why I didn't want anything to do with you and Ron."
"It would be nice," said Harry, giving her a lopsided grin. She smiled weakly.
"It's going to sound stupid," said Hermione with a very nervous laugh, "but I kept having this dream... oh Harry, it was awful! It always started with the three of us and ended with only me. We were always happy at the beginning, laughing and joking and talking the way we always do. Then, horrible things would start to happen, and I-I'd lose both of you. I just couldn't shake that image..."
Hermione shuddered, and she suddenly looked at Harry, almost as if to check if he was still there. "I know it sounds dreadfully stupid, but it scared me nevertheless."
"It doesn't sound stupid, Hermione," said Harry.
"It just kept getting worse," whispered Hermione. "I started to think I was going crazy. I started hearing these whispers when I was alone. Someone was taunting me, telling me that you and Ron would die the most horrible of deaths if I didn't leave you alone. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I'm so sorry, Harry... I'll probably be the death of you now, anyway-"
"You won't," said Harry, firmly and suddenly. She had focused intently on a spot on the carpet, and Harry gently lifted her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. "Listen to me, Hermione, nothing's going to happen-" he broke off, taking her other hand, "and, even if it did, it wouldn't matter. You-you're-well, you and Ron and Sirius-you're all I have. I'm not going to let that go for anything."
Even in the semi-darkness, Harry caught sight of the tear working its way down Hermione's cheek, and he wiped it away. "Don't cry," he ordered. "I don't want to see you upset over this."
"I'm not," said Hermione quickly, wiping her face with her own hand and shooting Harry a quick smile. "Well, a little bit-you're much too good to me, if you didn't know-but it's not that."
"Then what it is?" said Harry softly. Hermione looked away for the first time in several moments, and Harry touched her shoulder gently again. "I'll be listening to you, whatever it might be."
"It's nothing," said Hermione quickly, and she sighed. "It's just-"
"It's just what?" asked Harry. He suddenly had a good idea what this was all about. "It's about what happened in the forest, isn't... Hermione, what happened?"
* * *
Her voice wavered at first, but once she got going, she didn't have as many problems. Harry listened intently to her every word. Hermione really was correct in declaring him a good listener; he knew just what to say, what questions to ask, and when she need a comforting hand to squeeze or shoulder to lean against.
"After I came to in Professor Lupin's class, I was more terrified than ever. I hadn't a single nightmare since I had begun ignoring you and Ron, and I hadn't heard any of those horrible whispers, but I heard one that day. I can still remember just what it said, too-`I thought you knew better than that, Hermione Granger. Don't get too attached again because you know what will happen,'" said Hermione. She shuddered. "I felt-I felt that I had said too much when I really hadn't had more than a few words with you or Ron, and I just remember wanting to get away from you before I caused something awful to happen-"
She broke off, shaking her head. When she looked back up at Harry, it was through wide eyes. "I'm starting to realize just how stupid it sounds. I'm sorry-"
"No," said Harry, his finger pressed gently against her lips again. "Don't apologize. You had every right to be scared. You were just trying to be a good friend."
"I guess," said Hermione miserably. "I just couldn't imagine something to you or Ron! It was easier to face loneliness than really losing you, so I made a point of getting back to Gryffindor before the two of you. I had a feeling you would come looking for me, and I needed to go back up to the prefect common room because I had accidentally left a book there. However, when I got there, someone was already there. He grabbed me before I could even look at his face. He took my wand, and when I tried to scream, he hit me so hard that my jaw broke, and I blacked out."
"You don't have to tell me anything that makes you uncomfortable," repeated Harry, rubbing her back gently. Hermione shook her head.
"I don't want to keep it hidden inside," said Hermione, "because it'll just be harder to tell someone with the passing of time. I can't remember a lot after that... all my memories are pretty garbled from then on. I don't even know how much time passed between leaving Hogwarts and waking in the forest. It was dark, and I don't think I've ever been as cold as I felt at that moment-"
She stopped again. Harry noticed her tone was getting softer the farther she went into the story, and he had a feeling it wasn't the easiest of memories to bring up. He smiled at her, trying to lighten the mood. She opened her mouth to speak, but a jiggling door handle interrupted her.
"Harry!" exclaimed Ron, bursting into the room. His face was red with laughter, and Harry could hear the other boys clamoring back into Gryffindor in the background. "You are not going to believe what Fred did at the dance! It's great! Come on, you have to hear him tell it-I just can't get the tone of it right-we're all going to work on the radio, anyhow, so you'll-" Ron stopped short. "Hermione! What are you doing here?"
Harry had a feeling that a deep blush, identical to the one coming to Hermione's cheeks, was on his own face. He could tell by Ron's sly look that the image of the two of them sitting so closely together on Harry's bed was being completely misinterpreted.
"I just needed someone to talk to," said Hermione quietly, pulling away from Harry so she was sitting at the complete opposite end of the four-poster.
"Er-okay," said Ron, glancing between his two best friends. Finally, the perplexed expression left his face, and Harry could tell that he believed them. "You can come too, Hermione... or the two of you can finish talking."
Harry shot Hermione a quick glance. "I'll be over there in a little bit, Ron."
Ron nodded, and he turned to Hermione. "I'm sorry I wasn't in the hospital earlier, Hermione. I seem to have a knack for running off right before people wake up."
"It's okay," said Hermione warmly, and she smiled at Ron. "Harry already explained it to me."
"As long as you understand," said Ron with a lopsided grin, and Harry caught the thumbs up he shot him, even in the darkness. "I'd hate to suffer your wrath for three more months."
"You wouldn't be!" insisted Hermione.
"Yeah, yeah," said Ron. "Well, I'd better go. Gred and Forge are expecting me." He leaned down to give Hermione a hug, and though she accepted, Harry could tell it wasn't a very comfortable experience for her. He turned to her with a puzzled expression as soon as Ron was back out the door.
"Is something wrong?" questioned Harry.
"N-no, nothing's wrong," stammered Hermione, and she looked away. Her voice sounded muffled. "I just didn't-I couldn't-I really don't have anything against Ron-"
"Shh, it's okay," said Harry gently. It was only then he noticed tears were streaming down her cheeks, and it alarmed him a bit. "It's really okay, Hermione. Please don't cry? I hate seeing you so upset..."
"When I did come too, it was already very dark," said Hermione a few moments later, after regaining her composure. She was obviously continuing just where she had left off. "I had no way of telling what time it was. There wasn't a part of me that didn't hurt, even though I wasn't sure why at the moment. My head was throbbing, and I could barely open my eyes. When I finally managed to, everything was so blurry it didn't matter. I could hear someone trampling around in the snow, and he started speaking to me. He was calling me stupid, and then he said he would make it fast for me. He kicked me twice, first in the side and then in the side of the head, and I thought he had left."
The silence between Harry and Hermione was nearly palpable. Harry had a horrible feeling settling in his stomach, but he choked it back. Finally, he took a deep breath.
"But he hadn't?"
Hermione shook her head miserably. "He came back," she said quietly. "He came back and called me by name. I was scared, but then nothing happened. There was an odd silence, and my head started to clear. I remember thinking it was over, and he was just going to leave me to die, but it wasn't. He-he-he..."
Hermione's voice trembled more than it had all night, and she bit her lip, hard. "He stopped, and before I really understood what was happening, he was down in the snow with me," she whimpered. "He was so heavy... pushed my robes back... and he hurt me. He wouldn't stop. I couldn't scream, and I didn't want to think... he just kept hurting me..."
Harry had taken her into his arms on many occasions that year, but none of them had been quite like this. His entire body felt numb as he held her. Eventually, his disbelief turned realization and then to anger. On top of everything else, she'd been raped. Harry's blood began to boil with that thought. He was ready to kill whoever had done it to her, but he had to push the thoughts aside for later.
"You don't have to say anything else," whispered Harry. His arms remained wrapped tightly around her, and the fingers of his right hand had grown tangled in her long hair. Her sobs began to quiet, and he was relieved. He patted her back gently with his other hand, but he wasn't about to let go of her. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."
"I'm sorry, too," whispered Hermione, her voice muffled by the folds of his robe. Her head was still buried against his chest. "Oh Harry, I don't want to burden you. I'm just so scared, and I just feel so..."
"You'll never be a burden to me," said Harry softly. "Never. You know how much you mean to me, Hermione. I'm going to be here for you, you know that."
"Th-thanks," she muttered, shifting in his arms. Her head rested at his shoulder, the top of it resting just below Harry's chin. He felt Hermione's chest rise as she took a deep breath. "When I finally found my voice and asked him not to hurt me anymore, he was furious. He assumed I was worse off then I actually was, closer to death that I actually was, and he quickly compensated for it. He started hitting me, and I blacked out again.
"Someone came later. I never saw him, but he was very gentle with me. He knew my name, too, he asked me to trust him. He carried me to the trees..."
"The Life Circle," muttered Harry.
"Yes, I guess that's what you call it," said Hermione softly. "He took me there. It was warm, and I wanted to thank him, but I think I blacked out again. I don't remember anything else. My next memories are talk to Madam Pomfrey and then waking up in the hospital and seeing you this afternoon."
There was a long silence. Harry couldn't help but imagine what she had been through, and he had to force the thoughts from his mind. They were turning his stomach.
"I think you're going to have to tell someone about this," said Harry finally.
"I already have," managed Hermione. She looked up at him. "I told you."
Harry blushed, and he probably would have squirmed if she wasn't right there. "I don't count," he argued. "I can't do anything."
"You'll do what you've always done, Harry," said Hermione softly. "You'll make me feel better just by being there."
"Still," said Harry as she sat back. He touched her face gently. "I don't know if it'll make you feel better, but I will be there for you. I still think you need to tell someone-at least Madam Pomfrey if not Dumbledore. There's only so much I can do for you, `Mione."
"I think Madam Pomfrey already knows," said Hermione quietly. She caught Harry's hand and laced her fingers through it. "I'll be okay, Harry."
"Are you sure?" he asked. He couldn't even begin to imagine what she'd been through.
"No," admitted Hermione at last. "I've never been this scared before, Harry. I don't want to sleep. I can't close my eyes without thinking about it, and I-I don't want to think about it."
"Hermione..." started Harry, but he trailed off. He didn't know what to say. "I can't make it better, but I'll be here for you. You can count on me for that, okay?"
Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Harry. I think I'll be okay, as long as I have that."
Harry's eyes found hers, and he couldn't bring himself to look away. It seemed as if every unspoken thought of the last few months poured into that single moment, and he leaned forward.
"They got it to work!"
Ron flung the door open with such exuberance that it bounced against the wall and nearly knocked him back when it tried to spring shut. The clatter was more than enough to break Harry's concentration and make him pull guiltily away from Hermione. He was so startled that he nearly toppled off the side of his bed. He could feel his cheeks burning, and Hermione's were doing the same thing. He couldn't bring himself to catch her eye, and he wondered what would have happened if Ron hadn't burst in at that exact moment.
"They got it to work!" repeated Ron, the same enthusiasm in his voice. "It's really ingenious, the things those Muggles come up with!"
"What are you talking about?" asked Harry, tearing his eyes away from Hermione. Suddenly Ron's face also went quite red.
"Er-Fred and George's radio. They nearly killed themselves in that last little explosion, but it's working. We think it's even getting some kind of Muggle music," said Ron, and he kept glancing between his two best friends.
"That's impossible," said Hermione informatively. "We're much too far away for that..." She trailed off. Sure enough, the chords of an unfamiliar song were wafting in from the room just across the hall. Hermione shrugged in Harry's direction before a grin broke across her face. "Or maybe not."
"Do you recognize it?" said Ron eagerly, gesturing in the direction the music was coming from.
"Er, the Dursleys didn't exactly let me listen to a lot of music," said Harry quickly. He glanced at Hermione. She was biting her lip, as if she were thinking. When she noticed he was watching her, he began to blush furiously again.
"I think I've heard it before," said Hermione, "in fact, I know I have. It's on one of Dad's very old vinyls. I can't think of the name."
"Vine-als?" repeated Ron, scratching his head.
"It's a way for Muggles to listen to music," explained Harry.
"Ah, okay," said Ron. He nodded his head from one side to the other, as if he was studying his two friends. "Do you guys want to see?"
"If it isn't going to blow up if I get within two feet of it," said Harry.
"I'd love to," said Hermione at the exact same time, "but I really should get going. I'm probably going to be in trouble as it is. Thanks for the offer, though, Ron."
She stood, a little shakily, so Harry stood with her. Ron quickly muttered his good-byes before retreating across the hall into his brother's room and closing the door shut behind him. Harry walked to the door, Hermione on his arm. They stopped.
"Thank you so much, Harry," said Hermione softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was so close that Harry could feel her warm breath at his ear.
"I didn't do anything," protested Harry, enveloping her in another hug. He couldn't look down at her face-he didn't trust himself as to what he would do if he did.
"You did more than you could possibly realize," whispered Hermione. She was standing on her toes, and the top of her head came to about Harry's chin. "I'd be a mess right now if it weren't for you."
"That's not true," said Harry weakly.
"Yes it is," said Hermione. She was on her tiptoes again, and she kissed his cheek. She settled in his arms again and looked up at him. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Have a good night-and if Ron asks, you can tell him."
"Okay," said Harry, and he absently kissed the top of her head. "Sleep well, Hermione."
* * *
Harry pulled his blankets tightly around him as he rolled over in his bed, finally getting ready to do what he had planned to three hours before-sleep. After Hermione had left, he had spent about an hour awing over the Weasley's creation. Now, as tired as he was, he had a feeling it would be difficult to sleep. He had too much on his mind.
"Harry?" whispered Ron suddenly from the other side of the room. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."
"What?" said Harry. "What do you have to be sorry for?"
"Walking in earlier," said Ron with a smirk that Harry couldn't see in the darkness. "I'm not blind, Potter. I know you and Hermione were about to kiss."
"We were not!" insisted Harry, but he was blushing furiously once more. Even his thoughts hadn't put the situation as bluntly as Ron had. "I was just trying to comfort her, Ron."
"With your lips?" teased Ron. He rolled over. "Don't worry, it's okay. I've known it was coming for a while. I'm just glad you're finally getting your act together..."
"Will you shut up?" said Harry angrily. "You don't get it. You have no idea what happened to her!"
"Er, no," said Ron, recoiling. "Hermione doesn't exactly come to me when she wants to talk, Harry. She goes to you, and she always has... and I'm sorry-for walking in and for making fun."
That was good enough for Harry. He took a deep breath. "She was raped, Ron," he said quietly. "It was more than her just getting beat up in the woods. That's why she was in here. She needed someone to talk to."
"Oh," said Ron softly. "Is she okay?"
"I don't know." Harry shifted uncomfortably. Hermione might have given him permission to tell Ron, but it still didn't seem right. That, and it almost hurt him to relay what had happened out loud. It made it all the more real. "She says she is, but she seems so shaken up. Hermione's always been so brave. It's hard to look her in the eye-the usual twinkle's gone."
"What till I get my hands on the bastard," growled Ron. "Am I right in assuming you'll help me tear him limb from limb?"
Harry sighed. "It does sound appealing," he admitted. "I don't think she has a clue who's responsible, though. I'm more worried about making sure she's okay than making sure he's not."
"You're right," said Ron, "but I think it's crazy that you can stay so calm. I already want to kill the guy that hurt her. If it had been Anna..."
Harry remained silent. "Anna's your girlfriend, Ron. Hermione's my best friend."
"Harry," said Ron slowly, "you love Hermione. I'm not saying that to get you riled up or anything; I'm saying it because it's true. I love her too, but it's different. You can say what you like, but you were about to kiss her tonight."
"I'm not going to deny that I love her," said Harry, "but Hermione's my friend, Ron. She's like a sister to me."
Ron rolled over one last time. "You don't look at your sister like that," said Ron, "but it's not my call to make. It's your soul mate, after all."
* * *
The weekend passed quickly. Professor McGonagall agreed to let Hermione attend classes on Monday, much to Harry's disapproval. He had spent all his time with Hermione and Ron over the weekend, and Hermione still seemed a bit pale and more than a bit fragile to him. They didn't talk about their almost kiss, but that was okay with Harry. He had enough to think about with what Ron had said.
"You should be upstairs, still resting," repeated Harry disapprovingly as Hermione took her seat next to him in Transfigurations. He had said the same thing twice during breakfast.
"I'm fine," responded Hermione for the third time. Her hair flipped as she directed her attention from Harry back to her book. "Honestly, Harry, you seem bound and determined to keep me out of class. How am I supposed to learn if I'm not in class?"
Harry shook his head. "Ron and I would have helped you catch up," he muttered, but it was no use. She brushed against him as she turned the pages of her book, and he caught sight of bruises that had scarcely begun to fade.
"Your hand is still bruised," he observed. "That should be one sign that you're still not better."
"Shut up, Harry," said Ron quickly, before Hermione could even respond. "Do you actually think you're going to be able to convince her differently? This is Hermione, and it has to do with studying! Have you not known her for almost five years?"
"Thank you, Ron," said Hermione, stopping long enough to give him a pointed smile. Her nose was back in the book within seconds. Ron shrugged in Harry's direction and mouthed the words, `I agree with you.'
Harry shook his head as he pulled out his scroll and quill. Professor McGonagall had just walked into class, and she launched right into the notes for the day. Ten minutes later, they had finished and broke into groups.
"Now what are we supposed to be doing?" asked Ron, sounding puzzled. He also looked a bit guilty. "I wasn't exactly listening."
"We're supposed to be turning the hens into potted plants," said Hermione briskly. "I would recommend that you listen next time."
"Right," muttered Ron. "I guess these means she's working with Hagrid and Sprout now."
"You know, Mr. Weasley, that is an exceptional idea," said Professor McGonagall sternly. "Get to work... I'm sure these plants would make a nice contribution to her class."
"Yes ma'am," said Ron, scurrying to the front of the room to get one of the fat brown hens clucking around in a cage.
"Can I work with you?"
Harry and Hermione turned around to see Neville standing behind them with a nervous look on his face. Harry and Hermione shared a glance, and she smiled warmly.
"Of course you can," said Hermione, scooting her chair away from Harry to make room for him and summoning his stool from the next row. He looked very grateful as he scrambled between them, nearly tumbling over in the process.
"Thank you," Neville squeaked as he righted himself.
"This thing is a little devil!" exclaimed Ron as he puffed back towards them. Indeed, the fluffy brown hen he was clutching tightly in his hands did not look pleased. She kept turning her head to try and peck him. "Oh, hello Neville," he added absently, handing the angry hen to Harry. She immediately jabbed her beak into his arm, and he nearly dropped her. Hermione was paying them no attention as she reread her notes and marked passages in her Transfiguration book.
"Let me take him, Harry," offered Neville, outstretching his arms. Harry and Ron shared a doubtful look as Harry set the hen in Neville's hand. It just seemed like a recipe for disaster. Much to their surprise, however, the hen settled down once she had been passed to Neville. He was very careful not to drop her, and he shot the other two boys a big grin.
"I'm not so good in Transfigurations," he said, "but I like animals, and Herbology is my best subject, so maybe today won't be so bad."
"It'll be fine, Neville," assured Harry, and Ron grinned as he jerked his thumb in Hermione's direction.
"Yeah, we've got her," said Ron. "How do you think we get such good grades in here?"
"One more word, and I'll never help you again, Ronald Weasley," said Hermione without ever looking up. "I don't stand for helping people cheat, and that includes the two of you... oh, I think I've found it."
Forgetting whatever slight agitation was developing with Ron, Hermione shoved her book in the direction of the boys. She placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands as she waited for them to finish.
"It doesn't seem that difficult," said Harry slowly, looking up. He eyed the hen, which seemed perfectly content to be in Neville's hand. The rest of the hens were squawking madly, almost like they knew they were fated to spend the rest of their life as common houseplants.
"Nah, we just have to make something fat and feathery into something green and-er, plantlike," said Ron sarcastically.
Neville sighed, and he looked down at the now calm little hen he was holding. "I just feel bad for her. I like plants even more than animals, but she seems happy as she is. It's a shame we have to change that."
"It'll be okay, Neville," said Hermione, patting his arm reassuringly. "She won't know what happened."
"I guess," said Neville, setting the little hen on the table. "I'll er... just sit back at first. I don't want to hurt her or mess anything up."
The next twenty minutes consisted of many frustrated sighs and swears from other groups, but working together, Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Neville made good progress. It was Harry and Hermione that finally got the transfiguration started, Ron continued it, and Neville finished the last few steps. With a little pop, the hen had turned completely into a plant, and Neville grinned proudly.
"Great job, Neville," said Harry encouragingly. He was pretty sure this was the first time Neville had ever done something right in Transfigurations that year.
"Yeah," said Ron, clapping Neville's back, "excellent."
"Thanks," said Neville shyly, and he blushed. "It wasn't me, though. The three of you did most everything."
"They're right, you know," said Hermione, beaming at the small, round-faced boy. "You did an excellent job. If you hadn't calmed down the hen, we wouldn't have even gotten the transfiguration started yet."
"Done already?" The four students looked up to Professor McGonagall, smiling slightly as she inspected the plant. Just as she set it down, Dean dashed down the aisle, chasing his group's hen. Its back feathers had changed into great green leaves, and it didn't look pleased. "Well done. Full marks for all of you."
"Yes!" exclaimed Ron, giving all three a high-five. Neville missed his hand and succeeded in falling off the stool. He scrambled back up in second.
"Sorry," he apologized. He gazed thoughtfully at the plant. "Thanks for letting me work with you. It'll be different next year without you in class."
Harry and even Hermione looked confused, but Ron nodded solemnly. They looked to him for explanation.
"They break down some of our classes next year," said Ron, "according to how many O.W.L.S. you get, and Transfiguration is one of them." He leaned in a bit closer, dropping his voice. "It's barely a handful of the top students. I hear that they offer Animagus studies."
"Ooh," said Hermione in the same low whisper. She clapped her hands and shot Harry the truest smile he'd seen over the last few days yet. "I really do wish to qualify."
"You will," said Harry. "You're at the top of our class, Hermione. You'll probably have more O.W.L.S. than Ron and I combined!"
Ron agreed heartily, but Neville shuddered. They looked at him oddly, and he quickly began apologizing.
"I'm sorry," he said, looking very nervous. His eyes were very wide. "It's just that the idea of Animagi has always scared me. Even if I was a great wizard, like you all are, I'd be too scared to try it! I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about all those poor people that got stuck in animal form without a hope of changing back!"
"People getting stuck?" questioned Harry.
Hermione nodded seriously. "Things can go horribly wrong if a person isn't qualified to become an Animagus. Most of the time, they become locked in their animal form, and no spell exists to free them."
"Sounds unpleasant," said Harry.
"Oh, I'm sure it is," said Hermione, "but it only happens when someone without the proper talents attempts such a transfiguration-"
She was cut off as the bell rang; she hurriedly stuffed books in her bag. Ron waved as he ran ahead, hoping to catch up with Anna before heading to Divination. Harry watched Hermione from the other side of the table, watching her gather her things.
"Accept a walk to Arithmancy?" he said.
"Do you not even trust me to walk to the other side of the castle alone?" asked Hermione, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
"Nah, that's not it," said Harry, his hand resting on the small of her back for a moment as they walked out of the classroom. "I'm just trying to be nice to you."
"You're always nice to me, Harry," said Hermione.
"How are you doing today?" asked Harry as they walked through the hall, behind the throng of their classmates.
"I'm fine," said Hermione, "but thanks for being concerned."
"Sure?" said Harry a few minutes later. "I just kept thinking you looked a bit pale at breakfast this morning."
"It's nothing," assured Hermione, stopping. They were at the door to her Arithmancy class. "You worry too much."
"If you're sure," said Harry, and he smiled lopsidedly at her.
"I am," said Hermione firmly. "I'll see you at lunch, Harry."
* * *
"I wonder why Care of Magical Creature was canceled," said Ron, later that afternoon, as they walked toward the Gryffindor common room.
"I just hope Hagrid's okay," said Hermione worriedly. "You don't think anything happened-?"
"Nah," said Harry quickly. "Dumbledore would have told us if something was wrong with him. I'll bet something just came up."
"It's too bad," said Ron, throwing his bag to the ground and plopping down in one of the comfortable chairs. "I'm kind of starting to like our hursle."
"His name is Erinel," said Hermione sternly. "How many times do I have to tell you?" She had fallen in love with their hursle, and Harry suspected she'd take it in as a pet if she didn't already have Crookshanks. Harry liked Erinel just fine, too. He really wasn't more than a mild-mannered, feathery dog.
"You don't have to hurt me," grumbled Ron. He rubbed the back of his head, where she had swatted him with one of papers.
"It's just paper, Ron," said Harry with a laugh. He looked up at Hermione. "You know, you can sit down..."
"Oh, I will," said Hermione, readjusting the straps of her bag. "I'm going to drop this thing off. I guess I can spend the afternoon with the two of you, but you must promise to leave me alone to study tonight!"
"Sure thing, Herms," said Ron, shaking his head, and Harry nodded. They exchanged a look as she disappeared up to her bedroom.
"She studies a lot," observed Harry.
"You noticed?" said Ron sarcastically. He kicked his feet up on the table in front of him. Not a lot of Gryffindors were sitting around, as it was only the fifth years in the one class that had ended up a break that afternoon. Most were taking other subjects.
"Oh, I think I've known for awhile," said Harry. "Remind me to ask her for some help. I'm fresh out of ideas on how I can die this month. I know Trelawny expects it, and I need some input."
"She's not trying to kill you anymore," said Ron, "she'd rather pair you up with every single girl at Hogwarts. `Romance is in the cards for you, Harry!' That's not always a bad thing, though..."
A door at the top of the stairs creaked open, and Hermione came back down the stairs, looking a bit preoccupied.
"Something wrong, `Mione?" asked Harry for what had to be the third time today.
"Oh, it's nothing," said Hermione, squeezing in on the small couch between Harry and the armrest. "I was just looking for something, and I couldn't find it."
"What was it?" said Ron with a little interest. "Has Hermione the organized actually lost something? Don't tell me one of your schoolbooks has gone missing..."
He shut up when she reached over Harry and hit him square in the chest. "No, it wasn't one of my books," said Hermione. "It was just a bag of things I had in my trunk..."
Suddenly, she went very pale, and Harry immediately had his hand on his arm. "What's wrong?"
"Er," said Hermione slowly. "I just realized that Malfoy's wand is still in there."
"What?" said Harry and Ron at the same time.
"His wand," she repeated, "or rather, the pieces of it. I was keeping them in that little bag..."
"Oh no," muttered Ron. "Don't tell me he's back..."
"I'm sure he's not," said Hermione quickly. Ron seemed satisfied, but Harry caught the nervous look in her eyes. He caught her eye, studying her face intently. Harry wasn't the mind reader that Professor Trelawny fancied herself to be, but he knew Hermione well enough. Now that she had thought of it, she was having trouble forgetting about it.
And so was he.
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