Chapter Thirty-Three
OLD RAVENCLAW
The hours after Anna agreed to break the memory charm on Hermione should have passed quickly, but they were some of the longest in Harry's life, really only second to all those hours he had spent at Hermione's bedside in the hospital wing. It was agonizing, to wait, and Harry felt his heart fill with a little more dread with each passing minute. He was restless, fretful, unable to study. Instead of responding to some Transfigurations questions, he paced the length Gryffindor common room again and again.
On the other hand, Hermione had curled up one corner of a sofa already partially occupied by Alicia Spinnet and Ally Johnson-some first years had taken the comfy old chair by the fire that she liked to occupy, and Tyler and Katie were having at it up in the prefect common room. She had quietly answered the questions Harry hadn't been able to concentrate on, translated several pages of ancient runes, read up on some potion they would be making in class later that week, and written a paper for Professor Flitwick to make up for the charm work she (obviously) had been unable to do. Now, she was flipping nonchalantly through one of the books on memory modification she had checked out earlier that evening. Harry just didn't understand how she could sit there in quiet anticipation when it was all he could do not to trample some second years playing Gobstones in the general area of his pacing.
It was twenty minutes to ten.
He was a wreck, and she had to be more nervous that she was letting on. After all, it was her memory that had been rearranged, not his. Harry really hadn't a clue how Ron was doing. It was actually almost calming the way his best friend had squirmed during dinner after noticing his cheek. The satisfaction had been short-lived, however, when in lieu of concentration on his Mobility Charms (with the end result of a very disgruntled Crookshanks), it had dawned on Harry that he had had the same nasty outburst twice before, then only getting hit with a "settle down, mate, and remember that it's Hermione, not Anna, who's being so adamant about going through this," and a slightly more exasperated "you know how shy Anna is-she wouldn't have even said anything if she wasn't completely confident in her abilities."
Harry felt something tap at him as he passed. Stopping short, he peered down to see that his girlfriend had caught his hand and was now glancing over the top of her book. Hermione smiled at him, a sweet grin that reminded Harry of both why he was a wreck... and, well, why he was a wreck. He cared for her so much that the thought of what she was about to put her through was about to kill him, yet that care went just as far for him to endure the sick feeling that was building up in his stomach because he knew how important it was to her.
"Is it helping?" said Hermione quietly so that everyone around wouldn't hear.
"Eh?" said Harry, still a little caught off guard.
Hermione giggled, drawing his hand back closer to her so that he would lean in. "You're pacing."
"O-oh," stammered Harry, mentally chiding himself for not coming up with something halfway intelligible to say. He suddenly felt himself being pulled down for a quick kiss, released, and pushed away.
It was seven to ten.
Within a quarter of the hour, all the younger students had cleared the room. It was actually a little late for them to be awake (or awake and in the common room, at least) but final exams were approaching. It was for that very reason many of the fourth and sixth years were working furiously on assignments and studying instead of their usual socializing and game playing. Because of O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, the fifth and sixth years didn't have to sit another set of exams, and could therefore be seen lounging around with minimal homework or talking with friends. Harry was still pacing.
It was eighteen past ten.
"You know, Harry," said George, rather kindly, "we used to have a puffskein."
"Puffskeins are round, fuzzy creatures that like to be cuddled, which is why they make good pets," Harry rattled off, startled to have been addressed. He figured he might as well continue. "They also don't object to being throw about, either, which is probably why Fred used yours for Bludger practice."
George blinked, and he scratched his head. Standing up, he said, "Actually, I was just going to say that it loved to run in this wheel thing because it thought it was actually getting somewhere." He clapped Harry's shoulder heartily. "You haven't gone anywhere. You're still in the Gryffindor common room, mate." He headed in the direction of the boys' staircase.
It was ten twenty-three.
Modifying one's memory was actually a fairly simple charm to work, but left to a poor or inexperienced caster, the modification could be as messy as the wand work. To cast a memory charm, one would summon as much energy as they could to a specific moment, preparing to focus on one memory to replace the other. The trick to casting good memory charms, apparently, beyond knowing what made good replacement memories, was saying the incantation and switching focuses all at once. It had sounded simple until Harry had read that, and then the process seemed a little trickier. If that was the easy part, he had dreaded to learn of the hard part but flipped the page anyway.
Breaking memory charms was a considerably more difficult undertaking, although the whole spell was controlled by one simple-if you could call four lines that-incantation and the caster's own power. The person would be put into a trance of their own memories with the first two lines while the caster watched for breaks in the thought flow. Then, the second part of the incantation would be said, generally causing the person to tremble and convulse as their minds adjusted to the truth. Then came the next tricky part-pulling the person from the trance at the exact right moment. (Harry couldn't even imagine doing all of this to himself, although all the sources said it was possible.) The undoing of memory charms was an ancient and skilled magic ritual now classified as an almost Dark Art because, according to one book he had read, "One thousand, six hundred forty-two possible ways to disrupt the undoing of a memory modification exist, as were counted in 1889. There are probably more, but everyone got tired of counting, and no one would agree to be a test subject any longer, not even for the vastest pile of Galleons." Harry glanced at his girlfriend. She was still reading, stroking Crookshanks's long, ginger fur.
It was ten thirty-six.
Not really paying attention to where he was going (as the common room had emptied considerably), Harry had accidentally trod on the Muggle chessboard belonging to the Creevey brothers and was apologizing profusely when the portrait hole swung open. He didn't even look up-Colin might have been excited to just be in proximity of the great Harry Potter, but Dennis was ranting and raging about in a manner Harry had really only known before when Uncle Vernon got really mad.
"Just because you think you're somebody doesn't mean you are," the second year was shouting now, pointing a finger to Harry's chest. Even drawn to his full height, Dennis was more than a head shorter than Harry. "You watch it, you watch it, you best watch it because you're heading for trouble. Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are not to have consideration? I'll tell you, I'll tell you how you've just begun to get what's yours, only just begun-"
Colin, his face vividly red, now had his younger brother by the arms and was dragging him up the stairs. In a last attempt for quiet, he had clamped a hand over Dennis's mouth. "So... sorry... Harry... mate," Colin squeaked, panting with the effort. "He doesn't mean it... I don't certainly... Don't think poorly of us, Harry... He hasn't been himself in a while... right, Dennis?"
The only thing more Harry got from the youngest Creevey was another, "It's only just begun, only just begun," before the door at the top of the stairs shut behind them. Harry turned to see that the eyes of everyone still in the room were on him, including Ron's. The redhead had just come through the portrait hole.
It was a quarter to eleven.
"Er, if it makes you feel any better, he blew up at me the other day," said Ron hesitantly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'd lost my Transfiguration book in the common room, left it on one of the tables near where he and Colin were sitting. He started yelling at me just for asking where it was."
"Yeah, well," said Harry, looking down but matching Ron's stance, "then I should have known that trampling his chessboard would have brought about that kind of response." Without thinking about it, he began to shuffle towards Hermione. Ron followed. "How are you, mate? I thought you were going to spend the evening with Anna."
"It's off," Ron blurted.
"What?" said Hermione sharply.
Harry bit his lip, looking down at her. She had pulled a blanket over her lap and looked rather small. He hadn't realized that they within her earshot. Glancing over his shoulder at Ron, trying to mask his obviously relief, he said, "What do you mean, it's off?"
"It's off," Ron mumbled. "We can't do it tonight. Professor Sprout's just been through the garden. She's doing some summer planting tonight under the half moon. We'll have to do it tomorrow, or some other time."
"No," said Hermione. "No. We need to do it tonight."
Ron took to Harry's side, glancing quickly at his friend's bruised face. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I really am. It's not like we knew that she was going to chose tonight-of all nights-to be in there. She's never come through before." He shook his head. "Hermione, please-it's not like there was a real plan in the first place. It won't matter if we do it tomorrow-"
"Yes, it will."
Both boys' eyes were on Hermione, who had quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. Her words had come out in a tone so not her own that it scared Harry. She peered up at them with wide, open eyes. Even Crookshanks looked startled-he had jumped up from her lap and was staring up at her from the floor, his bottlebrush tail high.
"That... that wasn't me," said Hermione softly. "Or it was me... but it just... it just... you know."
"It just came to you," said Harry heavily, grabbing her hand. He sat down beside her, peering up at Ron. He threw his other arm around her shoulders. "I don't like that."
"Me either," said Hermione quietly.
Harry glanced up Ron, finally understanding the quiet determination she had shown all evening. Something told him, now, too, that time was running out. "We have to do it tonight, Ron. Can't we do it somewhere else... say, the prefect common room?"
Ron nodded at this suggestion, but Hermione shook her head.
"No," she said. "There's hardly a Gryffindor that doesn't know of its existence, and any one of them could come in at any time during the process. How would we explain it if Tyler or Katie were to come through? One of the sixth or seventh year prefects? McGonagall, even? Her quarters are right above the prefect common room, did you know?"
"Where, then?" said Ron, sounding a little exasperated. "The prefect bathroom would be out for the same reason, wouldn't it?"
"We have to find a place to do it," said Hermione determinedly. She bit her lip. "Please, Ron. Don't you understand?"
"Yeah, yeah," said Ron, holding up a hand. "You're seeing things, hearing things, knowing things that you shouldn't, and time's running short. Yeah, I think that you had better get that thing taken off you as well, especially if you think it might help, but there's nothing I can do if you keep giving me impossible situations. Don't you think it'd be worth the risk?"
"Yes, it would," said Hermione in a small voice, "but there's no place else to go?"
"Hermione, think about what it is that you want to do," said Ron suddenly. He plopped down in the tiny amount of space on Hermione's other side. "I've been talking, talking with Anna, for hours now. It's so dangerous, what you want to do. You could be hurt-killed, even. You might never be the same for it."
"Did you see Professor Sprout in the garden or not?" said Hermione sharply.
"Yes," said Ron defensively. He sighed. "Look, Hermione, Anna's scared for you. I'm scared for you. I'm pretty sure that Harry's scared for you-" Harry nodded "-aren't you even a little scared for yourself?"
"There's another place already, isn't there?" said Harry quietly.
Ron looked hesitantly over Hermione's head for a moment, and then he nodded. "We're meeting in the prefect bathroom at midnight, and Anna's going to show us where to go. I just wanted to make sure that... well, that you were sure."
"I'm sure," said Hermione. "The prefect's bathroom it is."
And she did something that she usually didn't, hugging Ron tightly as he went to stand up. He gave a jerky nod in Harry's direction as he headed for the portrait hole, so Harry got up, giving Hermione a quick kiss on the cheek. She stood up with him, causing him to stop for a second.
"Where are you going?" asked Harry.
"I'm going to change into something more comfortable," said Hermione, kissing him lightly. "Come, Crookshanks."
Hermione took off toward the girls' staircase, but the ginger cat didn't streak off behind her as it usually did. Harry watched her part before following Ron.
"How are you holding up?" said Ron quietly as the door shut quietly behind their best friend.
Harry didn't meet his eye. "Things just got a lot more complicated."
"Did they?" said Ron. He sighed. "You know, mate, I remember a time when the most complicated thing I had to deal with was Fred and George's latest scheme. Mind you, some of them were really complicated, but..." He shook his head. "Knowing you has certainly made for some interesting times, yet the only times I regret are being jealous of you, and, well... slugging you. Sorry about that, mate."
"Oh, yeah," said Harry, rubbing his face carefully. He finally looked to Ron. "It's not so bad. I deserved that."
"No," said Ron, shaking his head. "My temper just got the better of me."
"I really did deserve it. It's okay," said Harry.
"No-well, okay, maybe you did," said Ron, smiling.
Harry grinned. "Now, what is it that has you sounding so serious all of a sudden? I'm not used to that from you, mate."
"I don't know," said Ron, faltering. "It just seems like something's about to happen."
"Yeah, it does," said Harry heavily. "Prefect bathroom at midnight?"
"Prefect bathroom at midnight," Ron confirmed. The two boys, friends for years and practically brothers, made a move toward each other as if they were going to hug, but they didn't. "It's going to be bad, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I think it is," said Harry. "Tell Anna I appreciate her doing this."
"Yeah, okay," said Ron, slipping out of the common room.
It was four past eleven.
Harry sat down heavily on the sofa Hermione had occupied until a few minutes before, not thinking to look to see if it were empty first because there wasn't anyone left in the common room. That wasn't a good idea. He had plopped down on top of Crookshanks's tail, as well as something with hard edges. Hermione's cat more or less climbed her boyfriend in his frantic attempt to free himself, slashing his claws against Harry's already bruised face. It stung like no other, and Harry could have sworn, for all it didn't seem to like him sometimes, that the ginger cat gave him an apologetic look when he reached for his now-bleeding cheek. At least it wasn't very deep.
"Crook-shanks," Harry groaned, and the cat promptly leaped onto his lap. Stroking its fur, he reached beneath him for the second object-this one was the book Hermione had been reading. He grimaced when he saw the crease running down its front. He wasn't sure who would hurt him worse for it-Hermione or Madam Pince-and he hadn't any time to think about it because at that moment, the door at the top of the girls' staircase swung open, and Hermione slipped quietly out. She was now clad in a green plaid skirt with a very comfortable looking green wool sweater over a blue blouse, and in spite of everything, Harry grinned at the sight of her. And he quickly set aside the library book so she wouldn't see.
It was eleven eleven.
"Did Ron leave?" Hermione said shyly, stepping in front of him.
"Yes," said Harry, grabbing her hands and pulling her down for a kiss, just as she had done with him earlier. "You look pretty."
Much to his surprise, Hermione laughed. "In this?" she said.
"Yes, in that," said Harry quizzically.
Hermione giggled again. "Thank you," she said. "You should have seen Parvati, sitting at the vanity with a smoothing potion on her face, charming her hair up on rollers, and having just a fit when I pulled this out of my trunk."
Harry chuckled. "It's only clothing, right? Besides, I was talking about you-you're what I was calling pretty."
"Right," said Hermione, her cheeks faintly pink, but she looked pleased. She quickly let go of his hands, spotting Crookshanks. Scooping him up, she asked, "You haven't been giving Harry any trouble, have you?"
"Well, actually," said Harry hesitantly, and he turned his cheek towards her.
Hermione gasped. "Crookshanks!" she scolded.
"No, it wasn't his fault," said Harry quickly when the cat cast him a grumpy look. "I sat on his tail."
"It doesn't make it right," said Hermione critically, lifting Crookshanks into the air to study him, which seemed to take a great deal of effort, partially because of his weight and partially because of his squirming. She signed. "Be nice to Harry, Crookshanks."
"It's not a big deal," said Harry, really not wanting to lose the cat's favor. Hermione grazed her fingers over his cheek. "See? It's not very deep." And, without thinking, in response to the worried look that followed, "You could fix it with about one flick of your wand."
Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes. She dropped Crookshanks onto the floor, (he meowed angrily), and snatched up her book from where Harry had dropped it.
"Hermione, I didn't mean anything by it," said Harry, frustrated. She was halfway to the other side of the room by then. "I just forgot for a second, okay?"
"That must be nice," she said tearfully.
It was eleven eighteen.
Harry truly did feel bad about what he had said to Hermione. He really hadn't forgotten like he had told her, rather he had just lapsed in his thinking for a few moments. He was glad, at least, that Crookshanks had gone with her. She had curled up in her favorite armchair and picked up in her book where she had left off.
It was eleven twenty-two.
The seconds that passed now were an eternity each. When Hermione snapped shut her book, Harry was just about positive that it was time for them to meet Ron and Anna, but a quick glance at his watch told him it wasn't so. He bit his lip, waiting to see what Hermione would do.
Wordlessly, Harry held his arms out to her. Even though he was sure she was still upset, Hermione slid onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder. Harry smoothed flat her bushy hair with his hand, knowing now she was more scared than she had let on.
It was half-past eleven.
They sat like that for quite a while. It was as though they needed to be right where they were to draw what little comfort they could from one another. It scared Harry a little, the connection he felt to Hermione at that moment. Unsure, even, of exactly what they were to one another, yet he knew that it was the closest he had ever felt to another human being. It dawned on him that they were both worried about what was going to happen, and he had to wonder why they were putting themselves through it.
Finally, Hermione pulled away from him and slid from his lap to the couch. "Now that I've crushed you..." she said nervously.
"Never," said Harry, and a shy glance told him it would be okay to kiss her forehead in spite of everything. "I really am sorry, you know."
"I know," said Hermione quietly.
The door to the portrait hole swung open.
It was eleven to midnight.
Ron pulled the invisibility cloak from where it was folded beneath his robes, the fluid, silvery material concealing his hand and wrist. Harry and Hermione were all ready standing. Their redheaded friend laughed nervously.
"I tried to tell Anna that you wouldn't forget, but she insisted that I come anyway. The Fat Lady just gave me quite the telling off," Ron joked. He thrust the cloak forward at Harry. "Actually, I just figured you would want the invisibility cloak."
"Yeah," said Harry, putting an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Do you have the Marauder's Map, too?"
Ron patted his pocket. "Snape is out and about, and Filch. They're both in the dungeons, though." He looked curiously at Harry's cheek. "I really haven't been gone that-what happened?"
"Oh, I had a bit of a run in with Crookshanks," said Harry. He glanced down at Hermione. She wasn't really looking at him or at Ron, instead looking determinedly into beyond. He squeezed her gently, still holding the folded up cloak in his left hand. "Ready?"
It was eleven fifty-two.
Even though she was still quite leery in regards to its sudden reappearance and needed a few quiet words of reassurance, Hermione ducked under the invisibility cloak with the boys once they had gone around a corner. They had to wait as not to confuse the Fat Lady with invisible comings and goings, and she attempted to give them quite the lecture for their late departure. As they made their way down the stairs, slowly, slowly, she could still be heard burbling words of disapproval and threats to report them to McGonagall. Harry heard Hermione swallow hard at this, and he suddenly saw his foot emerge on the other side of the cloak. Quickly, he adjusted his pace, as Ron had already, to allow for her considerably shorter stride.
The trio, of course, walked in total silence as they made their way to the prefect's bathroom. They passed Mrs. Norris without so much as a hiss from the scrawny cat, which was something. For a long time it had been generally accepted that she might have the ability to see through invisibility cloaks, but it apparently wasn't so. When they reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered, they did not bother to remove the cloak. Ron gave the password to the wayward wizard, and not even the admittance of unseen prefects into his bathroom could make Boris look more confused.
Hermione was the first to step out from under the cloak, and Harry had his wand out before Ron did. He unlocked the bathroom door with it. Anna had obviously been pacing in anticipation of their arrival but had stopped to pull her curls into a messy ponytail. She gave them a wary smile.
Midnight.
* * *
"Did Filch go?" Anna asked anxiously as they filed into the bathroom, Ron in the lead. He didn't answer but stepped forward, bent way down, and kissed her. Before pulling away, Harry saw him grasp her hand and whisper something in her ear. She had to put her other hand on his shoulder and pull herself closer just so he could hear her response.
Harry had to smile, reaching back. He closed his hand around Hermione's, glancing over his shoulder to his girlfriend. She was regarding the scene shyly, the night nervously. "Filch?"
"Oh yeah," said Ron, patting Anna's back before letting go of her and straightening. "I didn't tell you?" Harry shook his head, pulling Hermione forward to put an arm around her. "No? Well, when were trying not to get caught by Sprout-"
"Flitwick," Anna cut in softly.
"Yeah, Flitwick," Ron added. He explained, "We managed to get out of the garden without Sprout catching us only to hear Filch cackling not more than a handful of paces away. So we walked so, so quietly until we were around the corner, and then we had to take so many turns that neither of us knew where we were-"
Ron broke off, shaking his head. He grinned, wrapping his arms around Anna's neck from where he was standing behind her. Her eyes darted up at him before she reached her hands up to cover his.
"We went into the Charms classroom," said Ron, cringing, "and Professor Flitwick was still in there, floating some odd blue globes towards the ceiling, expect he's so small that we didn't see. We were already laugh-"
"-But thankfully still under your cloak, Harry-"
"-Before we realized he was there. We managed to get out before we got caught, again, but then there was still Filch to contend with. Bloody amazing we're not getting some kind of disciplinary lecture from Dumbledore followed by what could only be a very embarrassing talk about sex-"
Anna elbowed him.
"Hey! It was getting late! What else would they have thought we were doing?" Ron looked thoughtful. "But I think we get it anyway. In sixth year."
Anna rolled her eyes but the moment had gone. There were things to be done. She broke away from Ron. "Are you sure about this, Hermione?"
Hermione nodded. "I'm sure," she said quietly.
"Okay, then," said Anna, and she put her hands together in what could only be a nervous gesture. "Have the two of you ever heard of-" she stopped. "Harry, what happened to your face?"
"Oh..." Harry's hand flew up. And, at the same time Ron's mouth opened, he said, "I kind of fell... and Crookshanks scratched me..."
"Don't take this the wrong way, sweetie, but that, er, was kind of my fault," said Ron. The boys exchanged a smile.
"I deserved it," Harry assured her. "Trust me."
Anna just shook her head again. Harry could have sworn she and Hermione exchanged a sort of superior smile. She pulled her wand from the folds of her robes, muttered an incantation, and the pain in Harry's cheek lessened considerably. It wasn't often that she worked spells in front of him, and Harry noticed for the first time the odd way she held her wand, her wrist at such an angle that it turned inward, her fingers so light on it that he was amazed she didn't drop it. Anna looked at him critically.
"It doesn't look any better, but... did it relieve some of the pain at least?" she asked.
In lieu of a response, Harry thanked her. Putting on the most determined front he could muster, he said, "Now, what were you asking us about?"
"I wanted to know if you had heard of old Ravenclaw, or even of old Gryffindor or Slytherin?"
Harry shook his head, but Hermione smiled a little and, blushing, said, "Hogwarts, A History might have mentioned it."
"Yes," said Anna, "it did. Anyway, Harry, with the exception of Hufflepuff, all of the house common rooms have been moved about the castle in more recent centuries because heating-"
"-charms became more efficient," Harry finished. Hermione beamed. "I reckon I do know what you're talking about, but only because Nearly Headless Nick might have mentioned it once."
Anna smiled as well. "Obviously, Hogwarts, A History doesn't disclose the location of any of the common rooms past or present, but old Ravenclaw was used as a safe house during You-Know-Who's first reign, when my brother Stephen was in school. It's actually just a huge, nearly vacant room under the current dormitories. If we shove some of the old beds out of the way, we'll have plenty of room." She looked timidly from Harry to Hermione. They both nodded.
And then they all just looked at her. For several moments.
Finally, Ron quipped, "Come on, you two, say something. You should be proud of Anna; I know I am. The old dormitories are off-limits to students, and the sweet, timid girl I first met would never have done something like this. It's good to know that I've been a significantly bad influence." He added quickly, "Not that you aren't still sweet, honey. I know this is all from the kindness of your heart."
Anna rolled her eyes, but she was trying not to smile.
"Ron!" Hermione scolded, and she shook her head.
Harry just laughed, pulling Hermione back to his side. She went back to resting her head on his shoulder, which had always been very reassuring to Harry to know she was right there. He kissed her forehead.
Ron cleared his throat. "Should we go, then?"
* * *
"So," said Harry, his voice a rather conversational whisper as they shuffled around a corner, going in the general direction of the hospital wing, "Where is Ravenclaw, anyway? Gryffindor is in one of the towers, everyone knows that, and it only takes half a brain to figure out that Slytherin is in the dungeons. No one really cares about Huffle-"
"Harry!" said Hermione. Ron chuckled.
"-puff, but Ravenclaw-"
"Ravenclaw is right down the next corridor. It's all that empty space around the hospital wing. You know, all that wall without any doors?" said Anna. "That's all ours."
A few more paces and they were there, judging by the sudden stop both Anna and Ron made. Such a thing wasn't a very good idea with four people under one invisibility cloak, and Harry nearly tripped over someone else's foot. Hermione giggled, grabbing his arm.
"Arithmetic deviance patterns," said Anna, but the wall before them didn't do a thing. Harry was about to shoot Hermione a nervous look when he realized Ron had just walked through the wall behind his own girlfriend. Harry let Hermione go, and he brought up the rear.
"Sorry," said Anna as he folded up the invisibility cloak. "The way the story goes, one of Ravenclaw's grandchildren though it was tacky just to have the wall swing open..."
"Oh, to be that smart," Ron said, pretending to be forlorn. Harry didn't comment; he was taking it all in. The Ravenclaws took much better care of their common room than the Gryffindors.
"It's all Marielle," said Anna with a wave of her hand. "Don't be fooled-the most of us are right old slobs."
"You aren't," Ron pointed out. Then, glancing at Hermione, who was looking more and more anxious, he said, "Lead the way."
Anna did just that. Instead of heading to the center of the rectangular room, where most of the furniture was concentrated, they hugged the entrance wall until they reached the corner of the room. Anna already had her wand out.
"Terminus occulto!" said Anna. Harry recognized the incantation as the one that had undone the concealment charms on the mysterious photos of the past he had been sent. Slowly, slowly, the façade of an ancient stonewall began to fade. It lightened, its colors evanescent. They disappeared entirely.
What had once been a chipped and aged stonewall was now a most impressive set of double doors. They were made of the same stone as the rest of the castle but were trimmed in gold and bronze. A lifelike bronze eagle was mounted center to and above the doors. It moved its majestic head, and Harry caught sight of the glimmering sapphire it held. On the doors, in bronze inlay, was row after row of names Harry recognized as great magical scholars. He guessed that they had all been Ravenclaws.
"Impressive," said Ron.
"When John first started here, someone would remove the charm almost every week," said Anna briskly, "but that hasn't happened in ages." She was busy rolling up the sleeves of her robes, a determined look on her face. With great concentration, she raised her arms, wand in hand. She took a deep breath. "Effregius!"
Harry stepped back at once, pulling Hermione back with him because he had his arm around her, and shielded his eyes. From Anna's wand had come the purest, blinding white light, and it was growing. It attached to the door, and it enveloped it. There was surprisingly little sound, although the wind coming off the door was tremendous. Harry had to brace himself against it; his arm tightened around Hermione. The light was so much that he couldn't even see her, let alone Ron or Anna. It was all silence, and stillness, and then Harry heard the chanting of Anna's trembling voice. "Effregius... effregius... effregius... ef-ef-effregius!"
All at once, the startling light flew out of Anna's wand tip and slammed with such force into the doors that they flew open backwards, swung through towards the trio and Anna, all before slamming shut with a shuddering sound sure to wake all of Ravenclaw. Then, there was only silence, silence and the sparkling of the eagle's sapphire.
Harry was impressed, Hermione startled. Ron was concerned, and rightfully so. Anna had sunk down to the ground, shaking.
"Anna!" said Ron, horrified.
"What was-" Harry started.
"Anna!" said Hermione. "That's well above N.E.W.T. level! You-you-you... you could have been... you must be a-"
And she didn't get to finish because the eagle that had once looked back and forth over the room so serenely was twisting and turning, struggling to free himself. Suddenly, he was no longer a bronzed head but an entirely bronze eagle, and he was flying overhead. He dropped the sapphire, and Anna caught it.
"Sorceress," said the eagle, his voice smooth and low, not unlike the young centaur Firenze. "Young sorceress, are your intentions pure?"
"Y-y-yes," Anna stammered, and the sapphire grew very bright.
"Very well," said the eagle, and, sadly, "you were much too young. Now, pass that along. Young wizard, are your intentions pure?"
"Yes," said Ron, a steadying hand on Anna's shoulder still, "they are."
"There will come a moon when all is not right, and another when all is," said the eagle. The sapphire stopped its glowing for a few seconds as Ron passed it to Harry. "And you, your intention-is it pure?"
"Yes," said Harry, and the sapphire did its glowing thing once more. It was surprisingly cold in his hand, and he would have passed it quickly on to Hermione if not for the eagle's interruption.
"You do not have blood of magic running through your veins-to touch that stone will kill you instantly," said the eagle, and he looked thoughtfully at her for a long time. Harry's hand was still poised over hers, ready to drop the sapphire.
"But there was a time when you could practice magic, a time when you were very powerful." The eagle bowed its head to its wing. "Sorceress. You may touch my sapphire. It will cause you no harm."
Hesitant still, Harry dropped the sapphire. Hermione did not keel over though, fortunately. She only spoke what the others had in a smooth, clear voice. "My intentions are pure."
The sapphire glowed perhaps more blue that it had before, and then it went white. This light, too, was blinding, and when it cleared, the once animated eagle was merely a still, bronzed head above the doors, holding his sapphire once more. The double doors opened slowly.
* * *
"Well," said Ron quietly, peering down the aged staircase that had been revealed. It was quite a drop to the first step and so dark that Harry couldn't see where it led.
"Quite," said Anna shakily.
Ron grinned, turning her around in his arms and kissing her. "That was amazing, sweetie." He looked thoughtfully at the eagle above. "He's a character, all right."
"What was that?" Harry asked. When the girls didn't say anything, he and Ron exchanged a shrug.
"Well, we had better get a move on, then," said Ron. He took a last glance down the stairs and remarked, "How long has it been since anyone's been down there?"
"It hasn't been used since the seventies, but I don't think it was sealed off until a few years before I started here," said Anna. "Now... that's a bit of a step down, isn't it?"
"I suppose that's one way of saying you're going to need some help?" said Ron. He hopped easily down to the first step, drawing his wand. "Lumos." With his other arm, he caught Anna easily around the waist and helped her down.
"What's it like?" said Harry as he cautiously followed his friends. Hermione gave him a grateful smile when he did for her what Ron had done for Anna. He could see more clearly now for the twisting of the stone steps. He smiled at Hermione questioningly before taking her hand. Quickly casting a charm to temporarily make the doors only open from their side of them, Anna grabbed Ron's hand and followed him down the stairs.
As they rounded the first bend, Harry noticed Hermione's grip on his hand tightening. His eyes adjusting to the dark, he glanced over at her. She looked as brave and determined as ever, but it was wavering.
"It's okay to be scared, you know," said Harry quietly.
"I'll be okay," said Hermione, just as quietly.
"You're sure?"
"Promise you'll stay with me the whole time?"
Harry was taken aback. "Of course-not like I was planning on going anywhere."
This seemed to satisfy Hermione. She squeezed his hand in return and said, "Then I'll be okay."
It wasn't a very long staircase, or even a very large one. Narrower the lower they went, Harry quickly ended up walking in front of Hermione. The walls on either side of them reminded him very much of those in the dungeons-rough and dark and even kind of damp. It didn't smell the same, of course, not having to house the Potions dungeons and not being located below the lake, and it wasn't nearly as cold. As they stepped off the stairs in front of another set of doors (these less decorated than the first), Hermione seemed to read his mind.
"This is an older part of the castle," she whispered, lacing her fingers through his. "Had you ever read Hogwarts, A History, you would know that much of the south castle-where Gryffindor is-burned in the eighteenth century and had to be rebuilt."
"I promise I'll read it-eventually," said Harry. And, with a sudden look of horror, "Wait... it burned?"
"It's a fascinating book," said Hermione dryly. Now, she was walking in front of Harry. She dragged him forward as Ron and Anna disappeared behind the doors. These two were wood, not stone, and rotting badly. One of them shuddered so severely on its hinges that Harry was very much afraid it would fall off right then and there.
It was darker than it had even been on the stairs. Harry dropped Hermione's hand to fumble around for his wand. It took all three of them-Harry, Ron, and Anna-casting "lumos" to light even the little part of the room they were in. That was enough for Harry to see that old Ravenclaw was much like the hospital wing-bare old four-posters ran in rows down the length of the room. It was much wider than the hospital, allowing three additional rows of beds down the center.
"Talk about communal living," Ron muttered, an ever-present arm around Anna. "This is the boys' and girls' dormitory?"
Anna swatted him. "Make yourself useful and conjure up some candles," she said.
"That's a yes." Ron grinned and trotted off.
"Harry, why don't you make sure he doesn't set himself on fire?"
"Good thinking," said Hermione, waving him on his way. The two girls moved closer together to talk as he headed towards Ron.
"You know," Ron remarked as Harry neared, "It just dawned on me that you probably don't have any experience moving furniture."
"No," admitted Harry.
"That makes two of us, then," said Ron. He rolled back his sleeves. `Well, it's only levitation... leviosa!"
It went surprisingly well; the four-poster floated up, glided towards them, turned in the air, and wedged itself between the next two beds.
"Not bad," said Ron, surveying his handiwork. "Not hard, either. I'd say that bed, over there, moved between those two, and-"
Someone else muttered an incantation, and half the beds in the room picked up off the floor and rearranged themselves.
"Focus, Ron," Harry heard Anna call. "I said candles, not beds." She and Hermione were laughing.
"She do that?" said Harry as he and Ron moved into the open area.
Ron nodded, "She's good, isn't she?"
"Good? She's like Hermione-bloody brilliant."
"Powerful."
Harry reached up to adjust his glasses. `What was that she did earlier? To get in here?"
"Broke a binding charm," said Ron. "After that, it didn't surprise me. Not about Hermione, either... incendio!" He had conjured up a whole row of candles and lit them all with just one flick of his wand.
Harry, who had been setting his candles floating, stopped to glance at his best friend. `What do you mean?"
"You know, what the eagle said." Ron was now setting his own candles adrift. "About Anna and Hermione being-"
"Are you ready?"
Ron didn't finish whatever it was he was telling Harry. He spun around, kissing Anna lightly. "If you are, and Hermione."
"I'm ready," said Hermione softly. She was several paces away from Harry, hugging herself. He wanted to go to her, put an arm around her, tell her that no one there would think any less of her if she didn't go through with it.
But he knew better. Harry buried his hands deep in his trouser pockets.
"Now," said Anna carefully, lowering herself to the ground. Kneeling, she asked, "So... you know I'll see most of your memories, right? And so will Harry and Ron, as long as they're here?"
Hermione nodded in response to both questions. "I trust you. All of you."
And she, too, lowered herself to the ground, crossing her legs beneath her. The boys followed suit.
"Hermione," Anna prompted gently. She swished her wand through the air to rearrange the candles so they were more evenly distributed.
"I'm ready," Hermione repeated. Anna looked at her. She nodded. And she reached blindly for Harry's hand.
"Obligatus ad aliud mens-"
-Hermione tightened her grip-
"-Tu sapis quid nunquam erat-"
The words were no sooner out of Anna's mouth than Hermione had dropped his hand. She didn't really seem to be looking at anything at first, but then a swirling light began to extend from Anna's wand. His eyes followed the light, and Ron's, and Hermione's. It was like a movie of the defining moments of Hermione's life.
Hermione's cousin Annmarie, then a chubby toddler, stealing a doll from an equally tiny Hermione. Little Hermione stamping her foot only to have the doll sail across the room and back into her arms.
An equally tiny Hermione paging through a book twice her size.
Five-year-old Hermione, dressed up in a little yellow dress and bow, sitting through Sunday school class. Her grandmother was the teacher.
Hermione starting school. Hermione getting a cat for her seventh birthday. That same cat dying just two years later. Hermione falling down the stairs, hitting her head, but walking away with little more than a bruise. All he hadn't known about his girlfriend's life playing out in front of Harry's eyes.
Hermione getting her first wand at Diagon Alley. Parvati and Lavender trying to comfort her after some second years made fun of her for being so smart. Hermione cowering in a bathroom with a mountain troll. Hermione throwing her arms around him before he went to face Quirrell, thinking it would be Snape.
Hermione worrying about her two best friends when they failed to board the Hogwarts Express at the start of term. Hermione looking around corners with a mirror, Penelope Clearwater at her side.
"What ever happened to her?" Harry wondered aloud.
"I believe she and Percy continue to share the dullest and most boring evenings with each other," said Ron dryly.
Harry had missed a few of Hermione's memories.
Hermione realizing that Professor Lupin was a werewolf. Hermione, so scared as the three of them confronted Sirius. Hermione holding him back as they did it all again, this time to save Sirius.
Hermione at the Borrow that next summer; then, the three of them running from the Dark Mark. Hermione trying to bring her two best friends back together after Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire. Her panic during the first and third tasks, embarrassment following the second.
It was really something to see his own memories being played back through her point of view. Harry looked down at Hermione and quickly away again. Her stillness was unnerving.
And memories again that were only his through her recollection. Hermione frantically straightening her clothing as she yelled at Krum. Hermione with Ron that summer at the Borrow before he had arrived her stepping close to him, and...
"Well, there goes any last remaining secrets between all of us," said Ron, blushing furiously. "Sorry, mate. I kissed your girlfriend."
"Wasn't my girlfriend," said Harry. "Not then, at least. I'm the one that moved in on her after the fact."
Hermione talking to Harry late into the night.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," said Ron at last. "I reckon she was always kind of yours."
Harry's stomach began to knot up. Hermione getting covered in Forveret Bursen. Hermione recovering so, so slowly. Hermione being terrified that her mere presence would be her friends' end.
And the moment Harry had been dreading. Hermione walking up to the prefect common room. Blinded by the smoke. Her wand knocked out of her hand. Roughly being shoved into a wall and then... blackness. And blackness. And...
Whoever he was, he was dragging her into the forest. He purposely ran her over Ripped her clothes, held her down. Forced himself on her. Took things that could never be replaced.
Harry couldn't do it. He couldn't stand to hear about it, let alone watch it. He stood.
"I think I'm going to be sick," said Harry. Folding his arms across his chest, he strode quickly over to the absolute farthest corner of the room.
When he returned, he realized that Ron had long since turned away. "I can't say I'm feeling so well myself. Don't blame you a bit, mate, it's hard enough for me..."
Harry glanced at Anna. Tears streaming down her face and arms shaking, she was still very much focusing on the spell. He dared glance up at the project of Hermione's memories. Another wave of nausea, and then there was blackness.
"Wh-" Harry started.
Hermione walking up to the prefect common room. Blinded by the smoke. Her wand knocked out of her hand. Roughly being shoved into a wall and then... blackness.
It was like her memories were skipping, flashing this and that at random. Wet, rotten wood. Cold stone floors. Crude staircases. Screams and yells and heartless laughter. Cruel images, cruel sounds. Hermione trembled, and Harry reached for her, but-
"Don't," said Anna. Another flash-this one was of a tall, pale figure in fine black robes with slits for eyes. There were people in the background. And Anna raised her wand.
"-Exiscor intus vestry mens-"
"-Omni qui est infidus."
The chill that engulfed the room was like no other, and the accompanying breeze did more than just stop the projection. It extinguished all the candles in about a second. Harry and Ron were on their feet at once, Ron casting lumos and Harry lighting the candles one more. Still kneeling, Anna seemed to be shaking the effort of it all. The chill and the wind stopped, and it was now Hermione that was shaking.
Drawing her knees to her chest, Hermione began to rock back and forth, her wide brown eyes filling with tears.
"Hermione?" said Harry tentatively.
"She's in a trance," said Anna. "I hate this part; I really do."
Harry found that he hated it as well. Her stillness earlier had been a little worrisome, but the more he thought about it, the more he decided it wasn't that much different than going into a daze during class (not that Hermione ever did that). On the other hand, this was just disturbing. He'd actually see her like this before, but then he had been able to talk her through it. He glanced over at Ron and Anna just in time to see her slid into his lap. He wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. He put one arm around her and began rubbing her back with his other hand.
Finally, Harry could take it no longer. `What's going on?" he blurted.
Anna turned to rest her head against Ron's shoulder. "Her memory is rewriting itself," she said quietly. "If all went well, then it'll rewrite itself to the truth... otherwise, it'll be the same old memory replacement as before." She laughed nervously. "I do hope it's the former that happens."
"It will," said Harry.
Ron smiled gratefully at him over Anna's head. Reassuringly, he added, "It looked like you did everything right, honey."
Anna shifted in his arms. Ron had let down her ponytail and was twisting curls around his fingers. "Fifteen years of memories in less than that many minutes." She shook her head. In a small voice, she added, "There are a lot of sick people in this world."
"Unfortunately," said Ron, resting his chin on Anna's head. He took her hands in his before wrapping his arms around her. "How are you holding up, Harry?"
In lieu of a response, Harry asked, "So, er, how much longer until you can bring her out of that?"
"She actually has to come out on her own," said Anna quietly. "It shouldn't be much longer. The two parts to breaking a memory charm are usually rather equal in length."
Harry sat back, resigned. He glanced at his watch. It was almost one-thirty in the morning. Under his breath, he muttered, "Come on, Hermione. I can't take seeing you like this."
"Did you say something, Harry?"
The groggy voice was most definitely Hermione's. He couldn't help but smile, knowing at least all that trembling and shaking and rocking was over.
"Just that I wanted you to come on out of that," said Harry, reaching for her.
Hermione smiled weakly. "That's so... I think I'm going to be sick."
Anna was on her feet in seconds. "That means you will be."
And Hermione was-three times. When all was said and done, she was about the palest Harry and ever see her. She was also the most embarrassed as Anna cast a cleaning charm.
"I'm sorry," said Hermione weakly. She let go of her hair, which she had been holding back. "I don't-"
"Hey," said Anna soothingly. "That always happens, actually."
"Always happens?" Hermione asked.
Harry looked nervously at Anna before squatting down next to his girlfriend. One hand resting gently on her back, he said, "You know, after breaking a memory charm?"
"Oh yeah," said Hermione, and her hand flew to cover her mouth a moment later.
"Hermione?" Harry's hand tightened around her shoulder.
"Oh," she muttered.
Anna seemed to know just what to do. She, too, lowered herself to their level. "Try to focus, Hermione."
"My head-"
"I know your head hurts, honey," said Anna kindly. "I've been there, too. You have to try, though."
"What's going on?" Ron said, and he, too, kneeled in a resigned sort of way.
"The memory of what actually happened has always been there," said Anna quietly. "It takes awhile to realize that anything is different."
"Oh. Okay." Ron turned to Hermione.
Reaching forward, she grabbed the hand he had extended. "It's really hot in here."
The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Harry had conjured up a glass of water and handed it to her. He looked cautiously at Anna, and she seemed to know what he was thinking because she nodded. He took a deep breath.
"Hermione, think back to the night you were... the night you were raped. Do you remember where you were before being taken into the forest?"
Hermione swallowed the last sip of water she had taken and looked away. Softly, she said, "I remember."
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