Chapter Thirty-Four
TEARS
Two words had never had so much meaning. As her short statement echoed off the high ceiling of the old Ravenclaw dormitory, Harry looked up at Ron. He was trying to place just what emotion lay behind her words, which had seemed to him equal parts confused, saddened, angry, hurt, and worried, among other things. There had been a hesitation that scared him, and it certainly wasn't helping that Hermione wouldn't look up at him.
Hooking an arm around her shoulders, Harry sat down on the stone floor, finally acknowledging just how cold it felt through the seat of his trousers. "Do you want to tell us about it?"
"No, not really," said Hermione, her shoulders tensing up. After a few seconds, she exhaled and relaxed a little. "But I will."
It wasn't exactly the response Harry wanted to hear. He nervously reached over with his other hand to push back some of her hair. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"You need to know," said Hermione quietly. "I need you to know."
Ron dropped down onto his knees across from Hermione so only Anna remained standing. She hugged herself like Hermione had earlier and muttered something quickly before glancing skyward but did not join them. She seemed to be listening just the same, though.
"'Mione?" Harry prompted gently.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, and Harry realized a tear had slipped down her cheek. He wiped it away carefully with his thumb, expecting the worse. Instead, however, Hermione let out a shaky laugh before swiping at unshed tears with the back of her hand.
"Look at me," she said. "I'm crying when there's nothing to cry about, scaring you when there's no reason to worry you at all. It's just-it's just that I hate this feeling. It was oddly comforting to think that, horrible as the situation was, at least I knew what had happened to me. The experience was my own. All that time, I just hoped that we were wrong, that there wasn't any memory charm, that we were getting carried away with theories and ideas. Then, realizing..." Hermione faltered. "And now I'm rambling, aren't I?"
Ron grinned. "Only slightly."
Harry was about to reprove Ron for his remark, but that was before Hermione laughed so sweetly and reached forward to hug their best friend. Ron patted her back awkwardly, looking surprised but not embarrassed. Hermione settled back in with Harry, wiping at her eyes once more.
"Okay," said Hermione, taking a deep breath. "It began, at least, how I always thought it had-I raced up to the prefect common room after class because I wanted to get there and leave again without crossing paths with the two of you. I was just going to retrieve a book I left there-Arithmancy: Chaldean Beginnings. Me and my extra coursework." She gave Harry a shaky smile. "Of course, the prefect common room had more in it than just my book. He was in there, waiting for me. I managed to get my wand out, but he knocked it out of my hand, and then he hit me so hard that I blacked out.
"But I wasn't out of it for a very long time at all. I thought I was, but I wasn't. I came to a few minutes if not seconds later, and I was still in the common room with him. The room was still just as smoky, just as disorienting as it had been when I walked in, but he had used my wand to add his note to the two of you. I heard the two of you beyond the wall, unsure why it wouldn't open, and I tried to scream. He'd not only put a silencing charm on the room but also had a hand clamped over my mouth. He backed into the far corner with me.
"He held me there, underneath an invisibility cloak, until the two of you left. He'd stowed a broom in the corner of the room, and after casting a disillusionment charm, took flight. It was so bitterly cold, and it had started to snow again." Hermione shivered in retrospect. "There's a trapdoor on the forest side of the lake, also disillusioned. I stumbled as he yanked me off the broom and towards it, so he kicked me to the ground and broke my leg. If that wasn't bad enough, the curves and tunnels beyond the trapdoor were all sloped downward, so he just pushed me down stairs and ladders and chutes. I don't know how far we went below the lake, or underneath it. I-I couldn't focus. I'm sorry."
There was a moment of silence. Harry, pulling gently on Hermione's shoulders, let her rest her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. Reassuringly, he said, "I don't blame you, sweetheart."
Hermione nodded against the soft material of his shirt. There was a moment's pause, and Harry noticed how Anna had retreated further from the three friends. She looked rather ill, and more than a little upset. Ron was glancing at her with worry, but he seemed to know not to get involved.
"Finally, we reached a series of rooms," said Hermione, her voice slightly muffled. "It didn't seem like anything we had passed through before. For as elaborate and confusing as the staircases and chutes and passages were, they all fit with the design of Hogwarts. These dungeons were different. They were just as cold, just as damp, just as dark, but they looked more like-more like I had always imagined the Chamber of Secrets. Elaborate stone doors, carved serpents, and dark objects everywhere.
"One, two, three, four. I couldn't follow all the twists and turns to get down to them, yet I remember counting these rooms. Each one was a little larger than the one before it, but all of them were completely empty. We stopped in the fourth room... all of the missing students were in there, hovering perfectly still a few inches above the ground. They were in a magically induced stasis-stupefy immotius, I would think. He actually stopped dragging me at that point, and he took a moment to heal my broken leg. I had no idea why at the time.
"He pulled his wand out then. Even it looked sinister-short, and thin, and gnarled. He just stared at me for the longest time. The look in his eyes-I was so sure he was going to kill me," said Hermione, and she shuddered. Harry bit his lip, turning over what she had said. If she had been able to see his eyes, then she had been able to see him. He was about to call her on this when she rushed on. "Finally, he pocketed his wand, yanked me up by the back of my rooms, and muttered, `Pathetic.' He half marched, half shoved me through another door, and another... four more rooms in all, each of these rooms a little smaller than the last."
Hermione had begun to scoot away from Harry. He leaned forward a little so that he could get a good look at her face, watery eyes and wet cheeks and wary expression. Debating whether or not he should give her that space, he held out a hand to her.
"I'm not going to hurt you," said Harry softly, so softly that neither Ron nor Anna would hear. Hermione hesitated for a few seconds before reaching across to lace her fingers through his. There was something else in her eyes now-guilt. Harry wasn't sure what to make of this, but he gave her the same reassuring smile he had all night.
"Hermione," said Ron suddenly, "if you could see his eyes, doesn't that mean you saw-" He stopped. Harry, having seen Hermione tense up at the sound of her named, had realized at once that the question was anticipated-and very much unwanted. He had given Ron the most silencing look he could manage, and it had, fortunately, worked. Hermione looked most relieved.
"Then, the doors just stopped," she said quickly. "Until that room, they had been all in a row, room after room after room. I thought we'd reached the end, but he took his wand out again and stared at the wall for the longest time. It was almost like he wasn't sure if he would be able to what he was about to do. Turning around to look the stone door behind me, he shoved me to the ground. Then, he worked a series of charms similar to what Anna did to get us in here."
At Anna's name, Harry glanced over to where she had last been standing. She had detached herself further from the group with the progression of Hermione's story, which was odd, but it wasn't really Harry's place to say anything.
"He passed through this door, and I heard him lock it behind him. I couldn't hear what he was saying after that, but I could tell that he was talking to someone. There was a lot of laughter before he burst back through on my side of the doors a moment later. That's when-when-" Hermione looked away, gathering her knees to her chest with her other arm. "He tore my robes trying to get them off me. He yanked at my shirt and sweater, and he shoved my skirt up. He was-he was-he was going to do it then, but the door opened.
"Voldemort," said Hermione quietly, speaking almost directly to Harry. "He was so much more horrible than I had ever imagined. Pale, and red, and that voice-" She shuddered. "But Voldemort told him to stop. `Now, now,' he said, `you will have time for that later.' I don't think I've ever been so scared to be relieved. He turned to me then, addressing me first by my name, and then as your friend. He told me to straighten myself out, but when I went up to get my robes, he put me under the Cruciatus Curse.
"He just held me under it for the longest time. When he finally let up, it was all I could do to try and breathe. I've never before been in that much pain." Hermione took a shuddering breath then, leaving Harry to call upon his own experience with the curse. Somehow, it hurt him ten times worse to know that Voldemort had done the same to her. He squeezed her hand. "He told me that I was to always to his commands with either `Yes, Master,' or `Yes, my lord.' It still hurt so much that I couldn't talk, and he put me under it again when I nodded."
Hermione seemed caught up in the memory, unable to continue. Harry glanced down at his watch, which had suddenly chosen that moment to begin its maddening color-changing once more. Shaking his head, he suddenly remembered chilling urgency he had felt earlier. Gently, he prompted, "And?"
"I think I finally got it right," said Hermione softly, almost as though she was ashamed. "I hated that I had submitted to him, but I just couldn't take it anymore." She looked up at Harry. "I'm sorry."
Harry put aside his reservations of earlier and tugged her towards him. His arm went around her shoulders, comfortingly, as it so often had. "Why?"
"I just-" Hermione started, but she stopped, giving him a grateful smile. "That's when it really started, I guess. He made me stand up, but I couldn't. My arms felt as though they were broken, and my legs couldn't support my weight. Everything just-just hurt. Voldemort couldn't stop laughing. He asked me if I had liked that, and then he told me that I had been the first recipient of his `improved' Cruciatus Curse. It inflicts actual injuries to cause pain. And, just because he could, he put me under it once more."
Hermione said this all rather determinedly, but her voice started wavering soon after. "Voldemort started talking about you then, Harry, and all the times you had foiled him. I tried to be brave, and courageous, and all the other things a Gryffindor is supposed to be, but I couldn't. I couldn't even stop thinking about the pain for long enough to follow what he was saying-things about you, and me, and Ron, things about a key, a keeper, a prophecy. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize," said Harry firmly, so quick in his response that he nearly cut her off. Ron reached over and touched Hermione's shoulder.
"Herms," Ron said, somewhat playfully, but he quickly grew serious. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you came into the hospital wing that day with cuts, bruises, broken bones, internal injuries... Madam Pomfrey wouldn't even tell us how bad off you were. Do you really think you need to apologize for being tortured?"
"They're right, Hermione," Anna affirmed softly. Harry realized that, as removed as she was from them at the moment, she was still listening quite intently. "Try to... try to distance yourself from it. It'll... it'll help." She was studying her hands rather intently. "Don't be so hard on yourself."
Hermione finally nodded at Anna's words, leaning her head against Harry's shoulder. He smoothed out her hair, kissing her forehead lightly. He wouldn't admit it to Ron, or Anna, or even Hermione, but he hadn't expected things to progress as far as they had. He had done his best to convince himself, like Hermione had, that the memory charm was just an idea they had, an idea without bearing. Hermione closed her eyes.
"Voldemort insisted on calling me a Mudblood the entire time, but he at least refrained from insulting my abilities and my parents. Then, suddenly, he laughed spitefully and kicked me, and made reference to your mother, Harry. He was just so... so... so vulgar that I couldn't help it." Hermione opened her eyes, but she glanced away.
"Couldn't help what?" Harry asked.
Hermione finally looked back up at him and said sheepishly, "I expect you could say he'd pushed me a little too far. I asked what he had against your parents, Harry, and you, and Muggle borns. Rather stupid of me, wasn't it?" The boys didn't say anything, but Harry was secretly proud of her and Ron was openly grinning.
"When Voldemort let off the Cruciatus Curse, I couldn't talk. I was so scared. Those horrible red eyes of his were flashing with the utmost contempt, and there wasn't anything I could say or do. He stared at me, just stared at me, for so long that I found myself wishing desperately for anything to happen. It was painful for me when I was just sitting there, and I just wanted so badly for it to all be over." She shuddered.
"Voldemort finally said that he had no use with me after all. He told me that his plan had been to accept me into his ranks, sparing my life in exchange for information about you, but because I had been so foolish to defy him, he would not give me such a chance." Hermione looked defiant. "I couldn't believe his arrogance, and I told him that I would not have sided with him even if given the option. I fully expected to be tortured again, but he didn't. He just stood there for a long time before... before giving me a sick little smile and letting him..."
Hermione said all of this slowly. "Voldemort gave him the directive to take me into the forest and kill me, but not before encouraging him to... to finish what he had tried to do earlier. He wasn't supposed to use the Killing Curse on me. He thought that `a brutal murder' would have the most impact on you, Harry." She had slid as close as physically possible to her boyfriend, and in response, Harry began to rub her back.
"The last thing he said was something about a map. Voldemort put me under the Cruciatus Curse one last time, but I couldn't take it. I blacked out. The next thing I can remember is waking up in the forest." Hermione fell silent. Her eyes were red and puffy as she pulled away from Harry, but she wasn't crying. Harry's stomach clenched, knowing that she hadn't any tears left.
"That's the map Dumbledore and Hagrid found, wasn't it?" said Ron after a moment's pause. Harry honestly couldn't tell if he genuinely wasn't sure or if he was simply looking for words. "He mentioned it to Harry and I while we were waiting in the hospital wing because it led them to the rest of the missing students."
Harry nodded briefly, realizing that Ron had, indeed, been unable to bear the silence. He glanced at his redheaded friend, knowing at once that he wanted to know the same thing. Taking a deep breath, Harry carefully asked, "Who raped you, Hermione?"
Hermione didn't look at him. "It was Viktor," she said quietly.
"It was Krum?" Ron said at once, incredulously. He paused for a second before cursing rather severely. "Of course it was him," he growled. "I'm going to kill him."
"Ron," said Hermione softly, "please."
"He has a point, Hermione." Harry squeezed her hand. Grimly, he said, "I can't say I won't do the same." He reached over to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear because it kept falling across her face, but she followed his gesture with a shift away from him. "Hermione?" he asked, slightly bewildered.
"You shouldn't say things like that," said Hermione. "You aren't supposed to feel that way."
Harry was taken aback. "I'm not supposed to feel the way I do?"
"No," said Hermione, but she didn't hold his gaze. "It's so violent."
"Bloody hell, Hermione, what he did to you was pretty violent!" Ron didn't look bewildered-he looked positively dumbfounded, though he was clenching and unclenching one of his fists.
When Hermione didn't say anything, Harry knew he had to try again. "'Mione, you've got to tell us what you're thinking because we don't understand it." He closed his eyes but opened them again quickly because the images he saw in the stillness were those of Krum raping her. Harry found himself clenching his fist so tightly that there was a crack. "I see what he's done to you, and I want to-"
"Just stop it, Harry. Just stop it." Hermione sounded so weary that he allowed her interruption to silence him right then and there.
Ron, on the other hand, seemed to take offense. "Stop what?" he demanded, hopping up. "Harry and I have wanted to kill him for what he did to you ever since we found out. What difference does his identity make? It gives a name and a face to it, that's all. Now come-"
"Stop it, Ron," said Hermione, her voice a little higher that usual.
"I'll stop when I get a chance to do what I've been saying I would all along," Ron retorted. "Now let's make for that ugly stone gargoyle and yell the names of Muggle sweets until it opens. It's about time we-"
"What? What makes you think Dumbledore will let you go after him?" Hermione interrupted.
"I think he means that Dumbledore will know where to go from here," said Harry quietly. The last thing they needed was to be at odds with each other, not when he had a sinking feeling that they were fast approaching a time when they would need each other the most.
"Oh yes," said Hermione. "What makes you so sure Dumbledore will do something at all. He has been-oh, how to say it?-completely ignorant of the whole thing so far."
It really should have been enough for Ron, but it wasn't. "Dumbledore's not just going to let it slide, not when your attacker finally has an identity!"
"He has a lot more important things to worry about," Hermione shot back. "Voldemort, Barker, entire cities that could be reduced to rubble should any Death Eaters chose to descend. I wouldn't say that one teenage girl and her problems are his greatest concerns right now!"
"Maybe not the problems of the average student, but those of one tortured and raped at the hands of the Dark Lord?" Ron snorted, stepping forward. "Seems to me that it's one with his other worries. But how would I know? I'm just barbaric because I want to see Krum suffer for all the suffering he caused you! Use that head of yours, Hermione. He's not the-"
"Stop it! Can't you see that you're scaring her?"
It was Anna. She had emerged from the shadows and proceeded to put an arm around the older girl. She whispered something to Hermione, talking quietly so that Harry and Ron could not hear her. Nevertheless, Harry caught the kindness in her voice. Finally, she straightened and said to Ron. "Honey, your heart's in the right place, but you can't just jump to your feet and yell, not now you can't." Her voice softened. "You can't solve violence with violence. You have to be softer, kinder, right now. That's..."
And Harry saw her mouth the words, "That's what Hermione needs." He took a deep breath.
"Got a little carried away, didn't I?" said Ron apologetically. "Bloody sorry, Hermione. Er... maybe we could take Harry's approach to it?"
"I don't like it," said Hermione softly. "I don't like thinking that someone I thought I knew could be someone else entirely. I hate it. I wish I had never-that's all. I don't like thinking I'm so easily deceived, that's all."
Harry knew at once that this wasn't true, that there was more to it than that, but he didn't have the words to ask her for more. So, he said the only thing he could think to say. "What do you want us to do, honey?"
Hermione closed her eyes. In a small voice, she asked, "Can you understand it?"
"Understand what?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
"Understand where I'm coming from," Hermione said. "Understand why I don't want you and Ron running off after him. Understand why I don't want you taking this to Dumble-"
"But Hermione," Harry interrupted, "what's to say he won't hurt other girls-other women-like he hurt you?"
"Please Harry," Hermione said, her voice cracking. "Please Harry, just listen. Just try and understand, please, why I don't want revenge. Please, can you try and understand?"
In that moment, Harry became painfully aware of the fact that she was no longer addressing the group, small as it was, but asking for his understanding. Painfully aware that Ron was clearing his throat and suggesting that maybe he and Anna could go ahead and take care of picking up the room. Painfully aware that it was he who had taken her hand and led her to a dark corner on the other side of the room. Painfully aware of what the way she was clinging to him could mean.
Finally, Harry looked down at her. He drew her even closer, touching his forehead to hers. "I can't understand it," he said quietly. "I'll try, but it will take time, and I don't even know if I'll be able to then. I'm not like you, Hermione, I'm not as good as I think you are, or as pure. For me, understanding is too much like forgiving, and forgiveness is something I can't give. I-"
"Can you accept it?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"Will you?"
He exhaled slowly. "Yes." Had he known that his statement would cause her to burst into a fresh round of tears, he wouldn't have said anything. "What did I do?" he asked, bewildered. "What's wrong?"
"Why do you have to see it as me being a good person?" she said, looking up at him, her dark brown eyes filled with tears. "I'm not a good person. Not at all."
Now Harry truly didn't know what to think. "Yes, you are," he said. "I think you're the best."
"No," she said stubbornly. "No."
"Why?" Harry wasn't even quite sure what he was asking her to explain.
"Because last year I had myself convinced that I felt for Viktor what I know I feel for you."
Harry was still confused. "Well that's okay," he said reasonably. "You didn't know then."
"Because last year I had myself convinced that it was forever."
This time Harry's voice caught a little. "You were a lot younger then. You didn't know any better."
"Because last year I had myself convinced that I loved him." And while Harry turned this all over in his head, she rushed on, "Because this year I still care enough that I don't know if I want to see him hurt."
"But he-" Harry stopped. His throat felt horribly, horribly dry. One part of him was trying to formulate a response to what she had said first. If she had thought she loved Viktor and thought she felt for him what she truly felt for Harry, then that would mean... but at the same time he was trying to process what she had said second. "So you don't want to believe it was him-"
"I can't believe it was him," said Hermione miserably. "Before you or Ron even suggested that Viktor might be involved, I thought that it could have been him."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Harry said incredulously.
"Because I convinced myself otherwise," said Hermione quietly. "There wasn't anything but circumstantial evidence, Harry. There wasn't anything but... I didn't want to think him guilty if he were innocent..."
"Dammit, Hermione!" Harry swore. "Why do you have to think the best of everyone?" And they were kissing, albeit angrily. He had meant to comfort her, but as it turned out, he was a little angry himself. He was angry that Krum had tricked her, angry that she had fallen for it, angry that she hadn't told him. More than anything, he was angry that they could have figured it out sooner and without having to have put her through so much.
But the part of him that was still thinking rationally told him that it wasn't entirely true. That part of him told him that it had sorely been luck that they had gotten as far as they had-luck, good or bad. Bad that Hermione had lost her magical abilities, good that had cracked the memory charm to the extent it had. Bad that breaking memory charms was such awful business, good that they at least had connections to someone able to do it. And Harry realized that he wasn't angry at all, but rather upset, and worried.
With a start, Harry realized just how fiercely they had been kissing. Her back was against the smooth stonewall they had been standing in front of, and his hands were not only at her waist but creeping beneath the wool of her sweater. It was also with a start that he realized how much she trusted him. That was one worry, at least, that he figured he could discard-the worry that she had once had stronger feelings for Krum than she now had for him. He smiled apologetically, but when he made a motion to withdraw his hands, hers came down on top of them.
"Are you mad at me?" Hermione said softly.
"No," said Harry. He looked at her intently. "I'm upset, but not with you."
"I'm scared."
"I understand."
"I-" Hermione stopped, and Harry, who usually knew her so well, found himself unsure of what she'd been about to say. She looked down for a moment, and her cheeks were still pink with embarrassment when she looked back up. "Harry..."
A smile playing on his lips, he pressed a finger to hers. "Shh..." he whispered, and that smile said, he asked again, `What do you want us to do?"
With quiet determination, Hermione said, "I want to go there."
"What?" Harry said, his brow furrowing. "You want to go there?"
"I want to go there," she pressed. "I want to see what it's like."
"W-when?" Harry sputtered, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him as well.
"Tonight."
"I don't think that's such a good idea," said Harry honestly. His hands finally left the smooth skin of her waist. "I really don't think that's such a good idea."
"I think it's a worse idea to leave it to the unknown." Hermione's face softened, her tears finally starting to try on her cheeks. "H-Harry, it's that urgency I felt earlier. I can't explain it, but it's this feeling I have that I can't make go away. There's a reason that we had to break that charm tonight, a reason other than wanting to know."
"Do you really think that we'll find that reason down in that room?"
"I think we might. I think it's worth a shot."
"I think it's dangerous, that you could get hurt," Harry shot back.
"You're the one that kept reminding me earlier that I had already been hurt," said Hermione. She glanced around the large room, and she shivered. Instinctively, Harry wrapped his arms around her. "This room is starting to give me the creeps."
Harry hadn't been thinking it, but a chill ran down his spine as she said this. "Yes," he agreed. So what if he couldn't place it? He had certainly felt it.
"Come on," said Hermione, slipping from his embrace but taking his hand. "Let's tell Ron and Anna we've decided to do something."
As it turned out, they hadn't far to go-Ron had come to them. He asked quietly. `Well? Are we going to do something?"
"Yes," said Hermione before Harry could even get his mouth open. "Where's Anna. It will take a lot less time if we only have to say it once, and time's something we haven't a lot of..." she laughed nervously.
"Anna's not going to come," Ron blurted.
"She's not?" Harry asked.
"No," said Ron, shaking his head. `We talked about it, and-"
"I hope you'll understand." It was Anna. She stepped out of the shadows, slipping under Ron's waiting arm. Again, the darkness of the room sent chills down Harry's spine. I take that you're going to take some course of action?"
"Yes," said Harry. "We're going to-"
"No," said Anna gently, holding her hand up. "Don't tell me. I-I think I've seen enough for one night.
"Don't think you aren't welcome," said Hermione, although the look on Ron's face said something else, and it was hard to consider something so potentially dangerous as welcoming, "because you are. You're one of us, Anna, especially after all you did tonight."
Again, Anna held up her hand. "But I'm not like the three of you. I'm not in Gryffindor, and I'm not so brave. No, I'll stay here, and I won't have you tell me where you're going or what you're going off to do."
Harry and Hermione shared a look. He said, "Are you sure Anna? Because-"
"It's you three that have done the exploring, have always been brave enough to go to the places that could be more dangerous then anything else. Not me. I've made my decision, and my decision is to stay," said Anna quietly. It was obvious then that she truly had, and Harry and Hermione said little as they all walked to the door. It was only then that Hermione tried just once more.
"Anna-you're sure? It doesn't feel right to exclude you now."
"You're not excluding me," said Anna, and she hugged Hermione, "and I'm sure. Good luck."
Hermione gave Harry a helpless look as she returned to his side. He was standing at the door, holding it open, having retrieved his invisibility cloak. For a second, no one moved. Then, Ron waved his hand.
"Go on," he said. "I'll be up in a minute... let's meet back in the prefect bathroom?"
Harry nodded. His hand in Hermione's, they disappeared up the curving stairs. Had they stayed, they would have seen another young couple come together, not unlike they had earlier.
"Promise me," Anna said at last, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking up anxiously. Her voice softened. "Promise me, Ron, that you wouldn't do anything dangerous?"
Ron just smiled. "I love you."
Anna sighed. "I love you, too," she said. "Go on, now. You know I hate to say good-byes."
Ron kissed her, and because he was obliged to listen to her, he did as he was told. It was only when the doors had shut securely behind him and she could no longer hear him on the stairs that the tears began to fall again, tears not even entirely for him but rather tears he would surely not understand, as that was how secrets worked, after all.
After all.
* * *
It had certainly been easier to wander the halls beneath the invisibility cloak in their younger days, back when Harry and Hermione at least had been the same height. It had take enough skill then, to coordinate their shorter strides to Ron's longer ones, but they had gotten quite good at it.
Then, of course, Harry had grown as well, and for the first time he found himself having to adjust his own pace. Even though it had been that way for the better part of the last two years, Harry wasn't particularly good at slowing down or Hermione at keeping up, and while they managed sometimes, they didn't have much success at others.
That night, Harry preoccupied with his own thoughts and Hermione with hers, they had done even less of a job of it than usual, which explained the current situation: Hermione, sitting up on the counter in the prefect's bathroom, was holding out her bleeding hand; Harry, opening and shutting cabinets, was cursing under his breath.
"Can't... find... stupid... dammit!" Harry swore. He slammed the last cabinet of the row so hard that it shuddered on its hinges, earning him a sharp reprimand from the nearby mirror.
"Hey!" cried the large wall mirror, which had a reputation of being quite sassy. The face of a large woman popped out of the otherwise smooth surface. "Watch it, will you? I will not stand to have the surrounding cabinetry treated like that. I will not, I will not! Now you had better offer me an apology, boy, and a promise that you won't go treating me like that the next time I give you the honest truth about your completion. And fix your hair!"
Harry scowled, but Hermione laughed. The mirror made a harrumphing noise and settled quietly back to the wall. Hermione seemed to have grown tired of holding her palm out and up to prevent blood from dripping on her clothing; she grabbed her arm at the wrist with her other hand and held it up that way.
"You know," Hermione said slowly. "You are a wizard. Why don't you just cast a simple healing charm?"
Harry pretended as though to have not heard her. "I know there has to be something in here somewhere for that. There are bandages that heal cuts upon contact and potions that do the same thing, swabs and wipes and rags of the magical sort that... I've used them in here before! Where the bloody hell have they gone to?"
Quite calmly, Hermione said, "They used to be in the third cabinet on your left."
"That's the one I just slammed. There isn't anything in there."
"I know that," said Hermione patiently. "I'm sure they've here, but they've probably been moved. Now, seeing as my plans for the future do not end with bleeding to death on this bathroom counter, why don't you cast a healing charm?"
"I..." Harry began. This was actually the fourth time she had made the suggestion but his first time even acknowledging it. The first had been during his profuse apologies after she had tripped on the edge of the invisibility cloak and fallen into a statue of a medieval wizard complete with still-sharp weaponry, the second he truly hadn't heard her as he was banging cabinets open and shut, and the third he had purposely ignored. Now, it was all he could do to stall for time.
"It's scarcely been two months since we covered them in Professor Flitwick's class," Hermione prompted. "Surely you haven't forgotten how they go, have you? It's-"
"I know, I know," Harry interrupted. He let the cabinet door he was holding open shut, and he trotted over to her. Placing his hands flat on the counter on either side of where she was sitting, he did not quite meet her gaze. "I'm not very good at them, though."
"Harry, your healing charms are fine."
"They're not perfect," he said defensively.
"Neither were mine," Hermione quipped. He slowly looked up at her. "Come on, Harry. I trust you."
"Funny, I don't trust myself." Harry sighed. "I don't want to hurt you."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I would hate to see the end result if I were ever truly hurt with only you for company. `Oh, I could have saved her, but I'm not so sure about my healing charms, so...' Come on Harry, it's a little cut. A little deeper than what we dealt with in class, but I know you'll be able to handle it."
"Don't joke about that," said Harry quietly. "I don't want to think about you getting hurt."
For a long moment, Hermione was quite. Then, her uninjured hand left her opposite wrist and touched his cheek. "Really, as sweet as it is for you to be worried about hurting me, and as cute as you are when you're fretting, it will be fine. Yes, wand out, okay, good, now focus..."
Harry had to smile at her commands, and he took her hand gently in his. He set the tip of his wand on her palm and, gathering more courage than he had even imagined needing, spoke the first incantation. It went well enough, cleaning in an instant the area around the cut, which indeed was rather deep. Then again, out of all the places on the statue, Hermione had managed to grab onto the wizard statue's sinoramuc, a magical one-edged blade. Harry glanced up and smiled warily at his girlfriend.
But the moment he began the second incantation, the door to the prefect's bathroom creaked open, someone stepped in, and Harry jumped back, startled. His wand tip went forward, however, and a great beam of blue light disappeared into Hermione's wound. She sucked in her breath, flinching openly as blood oozed out rapidly, and Harry's spirits sank. He had done just what he thought he would do, worsening her injury. Ron, new to the commotion, quickly crossed the room, peered down at Hermione's bloody palm, and then patted Harry's shoulder.
"Mate, are you messing around with healing charms again?" Ron asked, shaking his head. "Should have let me deal with it-I probably could have severed her hand off entirely."
Ron's words did not help Harry, though they were quite true. "I am so sorry," Harry said at once. "I was startled, that's not what I meant to do, I didn't..." Before, he had felt bad enough about her falling into the statue, although, admittedly, it had not been by fault of his own. This, on the other hand, he felt more than responsible for.
"Yes, you were startled," said Hermione, her voice faintly higher. She did not blame him, but what happened had certainly hurt. Still, she smiled at him, urging him to try again. "You can do it, though. I know you can. You're just going to have to try again."
Harry looked up at her pleadingly, but something in her eyes told him he had better not question it again. Taking another deep breath, he noticed that Ron had stepped back without a further question, his hands clasped behind his back. Harry bit his lip, and this time he nailed both of the incantations. The blood cleared, the cut mended, and the only indicator left of the injury was in the form of a thin red line spread across Hermione's palm. Wiggling her hand, she grinned at him.
"What did you manage?" asked Ron incredulously at once. "I can't think of where you'd get an injury like that walking from up one floor from Ravenclaw."
"About half a hall from the stairwell," said Hermione, still looking quite impressed with her boyfriend's handwork. "I stood on the edge of the invisibility cloak, tripped, and tumbled into the statue of Venerable Proel. Don't take hold of his sinoramuc; it hurts something awful."
Ron grinned. "Imagine," he said sarcastically, "a sword causing injury! Why I never-"
Harry swatted at him, but nothing could stop Ron's smiling. That is, nothing could stop it until Hermione pressed her palms flat against the counter, looking down towards her feet where they dangled off the counter. She cleared her throat, and almost at once they were drawn back into the matter at hand, a matter much more serious than a charm gone only slightly awry.
"Well," said Hermione.
"Quite," responded Harry lightly.
Ron glanced from one of his friend's faces to the other. "Are you going to tell me or not?" he demanded.
Hermione glanced first at Ron and then at her boyfriend. Harry nodded, urging her to continue. She tucked some of her hair behind her ear, taking a deep breath. "I was thinking," she said quietly, "that I would like to go there. I-I don't know why, but it's important to me to know what I faced. Wh-what we might still have to face."
Ron looked at them for a second, and then, much to Harry's surprise, he nodded.
"Okay," said Ron. "We'll go there. Do you think you know the way?"
Again, Hermione answered quietly. "Now that I know what happened, I don't think I'll ever be able to forget." She didn't meet either of the boys' gazes, and Harry touched her arm lightly, reassuringly. "It's just what I think we should do."
"You don't have to justify it to me," said Ron, looking thoughtful. "Dumbledore and the other professors wouldn't have had it sealed off, though, or would they?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think that they would have," she said finally. "I don't know how, Ron, but I just know these things. Something's drawing me to that room; I can see it just while sitting there. I have to know if..."
"What do you have to know?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed, but Hermione wouldn't say anymore. Ron cleared his throat.
"Hermione," he said, glancing at Harry, "I don't know as much about that Affinity thing as your or even as Harry, but it's it possible that you're able to see all this stuff because of Krum? The whole mind-influence thing? He sees what you see, so wouldn't it work in reverse?"
"No, it only works in one direction," said Hermione firmly. "Can't it just be a feeling that I have and nothing more? I thought the two of you wanted to do something earlier. Wouldn't going there be doing something?"
"Only if Krum is down there and you'll allow us to blast him apart, one limb at a time," said Ron. Harry, though his sentiment was the same, saw Hermione pale at this. He had no sooner opened his mouth to correct Ron when something his friend had said made his blood run cold.
"That's it," said Harry slowly.
This time, it was Hermione's brow that furrowed. "What is?" she asked. Ron was also looking at Harry questioningly.
"If you were a Muggle, and Krum was a Muggle, but he still raped you, there wouldn't be an Affinity of Relations, would there?" Harry blurted. He cringed at his own words. That wasn't how he had planned to phrase it, not by a long shot.
Hermione stiffened. "No," she said quietly.
"Then that's it," Harry said. "That's it," he repeated, turning his theory over his head one more time. "It's like memory charms, I'm sure. It's different for wizards than it is Muggles. Affinities don't happen between wizard and Muggle. When you lost your powers, I don't think the Affinity was broken, but something obviously had to give. I think that's it-I think you're getting some of his thoughts."
"No," whispered Hermione.
"No?" Harry questioned.
"No," said Hermione again. "I mean it, no! That can't be it. If that was it, then that would mean that he's down in that little room at this very moment... and that would mean he was here again... and that would make him so close... a-and..."
"Hermione!" said Harry, knowing that she was on the verge of panic. He firmly put his hands on her arms, but he also looked up and caught her eyes so that it would not startle her. Tears had already begun to well up in her eyes; he waited until her breathing evened out to say anything. "Shh," he whispered. "Don't panic."
"He... he... but he could be so close!" said Hermione shakily.
"You don't know that," said Harry softly, reassuringly. He leaned in, never moving his eyes from hers. "You really don't."
"Y-y-you're the one that thinks I'm probably getting his thoughts!" Hermione protested. "You're the one that-"
"Hey!"
Harry turned away then, as did Hermione. Obviously, Ron was the one that had interrupted her. The tips of his ears went red the second he seemed to realize that he really had gotten their attention. Tugging nervously at his collar (as he had not yet changed out of his school uniform), he cleared his throat.
"Well, I was just thinking that you shouldn't be so scared about this," said Ron slowly. "I mean, for the longest time, he was the one that knew what you were thinking. Doesn't this give you a little bit of an advantage? He can't really plan his next mind manipulation without you knowing. Right?"
Harry glanced back at his girlfriend. "He has a point, you know."
Hermione nodded. "Y-yes," she said, her voice still shaky, but she actually smiled gratefully at Ron. "That makes me feel a little bit better."
"Always glad to be of some service," said Ron generously, giving her a friendly smile. Harry was very pleased to see her returning it. He had been desperately sorry for opening his mouth, but now that Ron had found a positive in the situation, it made it all for the better. "So... where were we? What now?"
"Well, I think I'm going to... er, clean myself up a bit," said Hermione after a moment's pause. Tears were drying on her face, and she looked rather nervous. Harry gave her a kind smile as his hands slid down to her waist, and he helped her off the counter. She lifted her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, kissing him lightly. "I guess we'll be off then."
The boys watched her disappear into the adjoining room of sinks and showers and toilets. Harry sighed. Ron sighed. Harry sat down heavily on one of the marble steps on the other side of the room. Ron began to pace the perimeter of the swimming pool-sized bathtub. For a moment, it looked like neither of them would speak. Then-
"I just want to kill the bastard, that's all," said Ron heavily.
Harry looked up. He had rolled up his sleeves and dropped his elbows to his knees, but his hands remained clasped before him. "Yeah, me too."
The boys stared on. Ron stopped pacing and joined Harry on the marble step. He, too, dropped his elbows to his knees, but then he rested his chin on his open palms.
"We could be wrong, you know, and not have the advantage we think we do," said Ron suddenly. "He could be trying to lure us down there, just waiting to blast us into splinters."
Harry continued to stare dead ahead. "It's a possibility, isn't it?" he said flatly, but then he sighed. Turning to Ron, letting his one of his hands drop and reaching the other up to run through his hair, he said, "I didn't even consider that until she said it. I just had this idea, and I told you before I could consider what it meant. Maybe he is down there. What do we do then?"
Ron was still yanking at his collar. "Well," he said thoughtfully, at long last, just as the faucet that had been running in the next room shut off, "I don't know what we'd do if we found him down there, probably rip him to bits despite what Hermione wants, but the way I see it, we can either chance it, go to Dumbledore, or call the whole thing off."
"Well, never let it be said that we didn't have options," said Harry, turning his head back so he was looking forward again. "When Hermione first told me what she wanted to do, my initial response was that it would be dangerous, but on the way up here, I really thought about it, and it dawned on me that it wouldn't be so dangerous if all that we went to was a bunch of empty rooms... after all, that's half of the castle, right?" He sighed. "But I couldn't shake the feeling that it would be dangerous, and now I really can't."
"Because if Krum was there, then it would be dangerous," said Ron. He stood up suddenly. "It's hot in here."
"Yeah, it is," said Harry. His eyes fell on his best friend in time to see Ron discard his robes and his sweater and loosen his tie before sitting back down. "What do you think?"
"Anna wanted me to promise her that I wouldn't do anything dangerous," said Ron. He paused. "I told her that I loved her instead."
Harry exhaled slowly, reaching down and running his fingers over the cool surface of the marble. "I shouldn't have brought you into this, much less her."
Ron shrugged. "Come off now, Harry. I might always end up out of it for the very end, but don't I at least always go along with you for the final battle?"
"Is that what this is, then?" Harry asked, arching an eyebrow. "The final battle?"
Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Harry never did get to hear what. Hermione appeared in the doorway. She crossed over to them, stepping right over the discarded parts of Ron's uniform as though it didn't faze her, (which, of course, it probably didn't).
"Stripping now, Ron, are you?" Hermione said briskly. She glanced from Harry to Ron and back again. "Well? Are we ready to go or not? It'll be dawn in a few hours' time, and after that, we'll have a full day of classes ahead of us."
Harry glanced at Ron, who glanced at him at the same time. They exchanged nervous looks, but fortunately for Harry, it prompted Ron to clear his throat and open his mouth. He said, "Then don't you think that we should go back to Gryffindor, get what sleep we can, and do this tomorrow night?"
Hermione just looked at him as though he hadn't spoken an understandable language. "I think that we should go on. We're already out; if we do it tomorrow night, there will only be more risk of being caught." She folded her arms across her chest. "Come on, what are you two waiting for. We need-"
"We need to reconsider our options," Harry blurted, unable to help himself any longer. "Hermione, it's too dangerous. We can't do it. I wasn't thinking properly earlier; it didn't occur to me that Krum could be there. We might very well be walking into a trap. I think it's time we go to the headmaster."
"Go to the headmaster?" Hermione said. "Go to Dumbledore?" Her bottom lip had begun to quiver. "We can't do that!"
"I think what Harry is trying to say is," said Ron nervously, and Harry found it quite ironic because he wasn't even quite sure what he was trying to say. All he knew was that the biggest part of him was positively screaming at whichever part had initially agreed to do something that even had the potential of putting her in harm's way. "Er, in the past, it's usually been your desire to take the more sensible route and seek outside help. Usually, er, you'd be the first to suggest Dumbledore."
"So now I'm not being sensible?" said Hermione scathingly. As biting as her words were, there was quality to them that put something hard in Harry's throat. She was upset rather than angry about this suggestion. "Do you know what happened the last time I trusted the headmaster? He announced that it was important to assure the well-being of all the victims but rather unimportant to find their attacker and give them piece of mind!"
"Hermione, I'm sure-" Harry and Ron began at the same time, but they were both interrupted.
"I'm sure Dumbledore will do something eventually, but we have to do something tonight!" Hermione said fiercely, tears welling up in her eyes. Suddenly she dropped back, tears starting to stream down her cheeks, and buried her face in her hands.
Despite his earlier observation, this surprised (and startled) Harry, and he was on his feet at once, an arm around her shoulders, leading her back down to sit between him and Ron on the step. He wrapped both of his arms around her and let her cry into his shirt, glancing worriedly over her head at Ron, who shrugged helplessly. Finally, Harry couldn't take it any longer and cleared his throat.
"Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively, dropping his left arm so only the right remained around her shoulders.
"Just a second," she said, her voice still slightly muffled. Harry glanced at Ron again but gave her that, rubbing his hand up and down her arm in what he hoped was a reassuring way, and eventually her sobs turned to tears and tears to sniffles. Quietly, pulling her head away from his chest, she said, "Okay."
"Are you all right?" said Harry awkwardly.
Hermione nodded, dropping her head to his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said apologetically. In a small voice, she continued, "I don't know what's gotten into me, Harry. I just can't take this anymore. It seems so often anymore that I have moments like I had a second ago and moments live I've been having all evening. I'm not myself, or at least I'm not as strong as I used to be, and it's as though I can't take care of myself any longer. I-I..." She trembled.
"I have you," said Harry so quietly that Ron would not hear. It was an odd thing to say yet made perfect sense to both of them.
"Yes," Hermione agreed. She looked up at him, her eyes puffy from all that crying. "I have this feeling that we should go there, and I don't think it wise to ignore that feeling."
"But it's going to be so dangerous," Harry argued, dropping his other arm from her as well and leaning forward, his hands clasped together before him. He cocked his head up to look at her still. "I don't think it's wise to ignore that feeling either, but I also don't think it's wise to just traipse down there without any solid plans."
Hermione laid an arm across his back, squeezing his shoulder. "We don't have time for solid plans. Whatever we have to do, we have to do tonight. It's going to be too late tomorrow. It's that feeling again. If we wait until tomorrow, it will be too late."
"But Hermione," said Ron, dropping his arm to the side so that she would not see him clenching and unclenching his fist, "there's a good chance that Krum's down there at this very instant, just waiting for us to walk into his trap and start throwing Unforgivables. I know I'm not usually the one to put his foot down and demand we reconsider, but I don't think any of our other adventures have been so... uncertain. Do we even know what we're up against, besides Krum? Besides... er, hurting you, and Ginny, do we know what he's responsible for?"
"He's one of Voldemort's followers now," Harry threw in. "His age isn't the only thing to consider. Not only has he been taught more magic than we have, but he's probably been taught the Darkest magic there is out there." He unclasped his hands and slowly reached out. Hermione hesitated, tentatively allowing him to take her hand in his. "Hermione, earlier you couldn't even take the thought of him being on the same property as you. How will you feel if he's in the same room? I think you're brave, and strong, even if you might not, but I can't expect you to be that brave, or that strong. You also can't defend yourself in what ways he can or even in what ways Ron and I can. I'm not saying that we wouldn't look out for you. I just don't know how two Underage wizards would fair against a trained Death Eater, that's all."
"But we have to do something!" The urgency was yet to leave Hermione's voice.
"Yes, tonight, we know," said Ron dryly, but he tossed an arm around her shoulder so that she would know he was only kidding. "Hermione, it's just too dangerous. I know I don't want to put you in a situation where you're absolutely terrified and couldn't protect yourself even if you weren't. Something tells me that Harry doesn't want to either."
But Hermione would not listen to their reason. For several minutes, they went back and forth, Harry and Ron trying in vain to put down her insistent claims. Finally, Harry could take it no more. He suggested, "Fine. We understand. We'll do something, and we'll do it tonight. Ron and I can go down there and check things out tonight. If the passages and adjoining rooms are empty, then we'll know that there's nothing to worry about, and we'll all go down there tomorrow night so that you can see all of it like you wanted. How's that sound?"
Harry was too pleased with his suggestion too soon. He had thought it was a pretty good idea, but no sooner had the words left his mouth than Hermione was on her feet, her eyes no longer watery but rather ablaze.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she demanded. "Why are you forcing me to take the backstage in all this? I don't understand, Harry. I seem to remember going with you into many dangerous situations in the past. Why did you allow me to be at my side then but don't want me near now? Did I really mess things up so badly before?"
"Did you miss the whole thing about us being worried about you not being able to defend yourself?" said Ron at once, tilting his face up to look at her. "I thought it was pretty clear, Hermione. Harry and I don't want to see you hurt, and if anyone gets hurt in this, it's going to be you. You're the most vulnerable and the least able at the moment. What's so wrong with us not wanting to risk that?"
"You expect me to believe that if a dementor hadn't come into that shop that day and destroyed my powers you would let me come with you?" Hermione asked. "Would you, Harry? I don't think so. I think you would still have eventually come to the conclusion that I should stay where it's safe because I obviously can't take care of myself!"
All of this was making Harry's head hurt. He was trying to keep in mind what she had said earlier about not being entirely herself, but it was hard. Though what he really felt was hurt, as it seemed she was unaware of how much he cared for her, he was starting to get angry. He stood up.
"You know what?" Harry said. "You're right. I wouldn't have wanted you to go even if the dementors hadn't touched you in Hogsmeade! Of course I wouldn't have, Hermione, I care about you! Do you really think I'm one to willingly put the people closest to me at risk?"
They were practically shouting at each other. Hermione's eyes flashed. "You don't have to be," she said unkindly. "Everyone that knows you is constantly at risk! I know that, I've accepted that, and if I'm already in danger, is it really going to matter if I put myself in more?"
"To me it does!" Harry shot back. "Don't you know how much I care about you?"
Hermione didn't answer his question. "Why is it that there's no question about whether or not Ron's going? I thought he was your best friend; I thought you cared about him. Why is it any different putting him in harm's way?"
"If he'd lost his..." Harry trailed off. With as much resolution as he could muster, he said, "Because you're my girlfriend!"
"Until a few weeks ago, I was also your best friend," said Hermione sharply, "and I thought that you told me I would always be, no matter what."
"You always will-" Harry stopped short, realizing at once that she'd caught him.
"Then why won't you let me go?" said Hermione. "I'm still your best friend, and you're letting your other best friend go. What makes me so different?"
"Because I don't think I can stand to see you hurt again!" Harry shouted. Hermione stepped back; he lowered his voice. "Because I think I'm in love with you."
Hermione's features softened. "Harry, I-I-"
But she didn't say it back. Instead, she stepped back and folded her shaking arms across her chest. Rather, what she said was, "Harry, it doesn't matter how I feel because I don't see this working out. All we do since we've gotten together is argue, and I don't see that as being worth not doing my part."
And Hermione turned away from him quickly and did not tell him for several years that it was to keep him from seeing the tears streaming down her face. "I'm going, and I'm going now," she said at last. "You're either ready or not ready, going or not going. I think that I may need you, but I'll go alone if that's how it has to be." Despite her declaration, she did not move.
Harry stepped forward and touched her shoulder. She did not look at him, and for that he was actually grateful. He wasn't sure what he would do if she did, as he couldn't remember a time in his life when he had felt worse than she was making him feel. "I'd never let you do something like this alone, and I'm not about to start now," he said heavily. Someone behind them cleared his throat.
"Well, I guess I'll go along too, then," said Ron cheerfully, standing up. "We'll make it like old times, the three of us rushing senselessly off to what'll likely be our demise." He strode over to his robes and sweater, picking them up and wadding them into a ball before throwing them randomly into one of the empty cabinets. He continued walking to the door. "Well?" he said finally, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm ready. One of you grab the invisibility cloak; I really think we should be off."
Harry squeezed Hermione's shoulder once, out of habit, before removing his hand. He grabbed the invisibility cloak as told. He walked to where Ron was standing, and Hermione followed him. The left the bathroom silently and turned the corner before huddling together beneath the cloak. Harry was vaguely aware that his head hurt for real now and that his scar had begun to prickle. Never before in this company had he known such deafening silence.
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