Title: Between The Shadow and The Soul
By: Gryffindor Girl
Rating: R
Genre: UST, Angst, Thriller, Action
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & its characters belong to JK Rowling, this is just a piece of fanfiction. Some characters and settings used are created by me.
Words: 4,600 of 35,000 total (approx)
For: The hghpficexchange on LJ - for Lady Bluestar and her request prompt: Duelling, serious or playful.
Summary: When Hermione tries to discover where Harry is going at nights, she finds much more than she bargained for.
Warnings: Low grade violence, non explicit sex, swears, poss infidelity issues.
Author's Note: Hi *waves* It's been a while since I posted here! You'll either like this or it won't be your cup of tea but hopefully someone enjoys it. This fic is completed so I'll post a chapter a day till all eight are up.
Chapter One
The grinding crunch of snow under his feet is barely audible.
I concentrate hard to follow it. It pauses and I tense; wait for it to start again. I narrow my eyes to watch the slight depressions his footprints make in the thick snow as they weave down the alleyway. I let him walk ahead, staying as far behind as I dare, keeping an eye on the ridges of his prints lit only by one buzzing streetlamp and the moonlight.
I stick to the shadows, relying on the dark and my disillusionment charm to keep me undetected. He has his cloak of course, but I still notice that he keeps close to the buildings and dimly lit doorways almost as much as I do.
I nearly miss it when he ducks through a grey steel door.
The door clicks lightly into place behind him. I check the street behind me over my shoulder and then turn and assess the door with my wand.
It opens with a small click once all twelve wards are successfully vanquished.
A long hallway is illuminated with flickering fluorescent light. It smells of cigarette smoke, whiskey and urine.
I wrinkle my nose, take a last fresh breath and step inside.
*
Eight months earlier
*
I drag the toes of my high heels through the snow, tracing trails I've already made.
I should go back. Ron might be missing me.
The music inside sounds muted, echoing around the cavernous old mansion and in stark contrast to the cold and dark night around me. The squeak of the swing I'm sitting on is much louder in comparison and I'm slightly mesmerised by the repetitiveness of it as I swing gently back and forth.
I don't hear him approach.
He lowers himself down into the swing next to me, and then starts swaying back and forth on it without a word. I wait a while, still enjoying the stillness and quiet.
I watch his feet as they drag through the snow too, his black dress shoes uncovering a peek of grass as mine have.
"Getting some air?"
I nod. "Yeah. And I'm hoping I might be able to hide out here long enough to be conveniently absent from Slughorn's toasts."
He makes a short, amused sound but then falls quiet.
I watch the darkness, not expecting him to speak again, so it surprises me when he does.
"Do you remember the first time we met?"
I turn and frown at him, surprised at the sentiment. He stares straight ahead, into the dark woods the mansion is fringed by. His hair is too long now, hanging nearly in his eyes. They seem greener now that he's started wearing contacts. Jet black hair and startling green eyes, that's a combination solely owned by Harry in my mind. I watch him sitting there in his muggle suit. He seems so much older than his years now.
"Of course I remember. I was an insufferable know-it-all."
He smiles softly.
"Maybe. But I liked you."
I look back down at my toes, wondering what he's getting at. He doesn't speak for quite some time and I start to feel the cold. I shiver, and pull my cloak tighter around me. Suddenly he speaks again.
"I've never thanked you."
I frown over at him. I've found tonight tiresome. Another ball to commemorate the fallen and to rehash the same sentiments about "optimism for the magical community in this new era". He and I have joked about it together - as a means of getting through. Now I wonder if it's finally striking a chord with him. I think carefully before I reply.
"What do you mean? Of course you have."
He shakes his head and looks over at me, the colour of his eyes still bright in this dim light, but his expression is sad. It scares me.
"Harry, is everything alright?"
He studies my face for a moment and I feel like he's looking at me - really looking at me for the first time. I realise suddenly that my mouth is bone dry.
Then he closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens them again the strange expression is gone. He smiles slightly.
"Yeah, fine. I just wanted to say thanks for everything. For everything you've done for me. You mean the world to me."
I feel those words wash over me and the impact they make. It's funny how you don't realise you're waiting for something until it arrives. I unfurl one hand from my cloak and reach across to him, holding my arm out into the space between us. He pushes his legs against the ground to swing close enough to grasp it. I squeeze his warm hand firmly and shrug.
"Don't mention it."
He smiles and squeezes back. Then he drops my hand and looks back out to the woods.
It feels like goodbye.
*
The ceilings are high and lined with pipes that used to have some purpose.
It's an abandoned factory, a muggle one, I think. But the crowd lining the walls now are definitely not muggles.
There's a few hundred of them, all Knockturn Alley types. Milling around, smoking, waiting for something.
I'm starting to feel pretty sure that I know what it is.
I gather my hood further around my face and keep my eyes down. I can't see much now but I still feel the tension as the crowd seems to take a collective breath and then move as if by arrangement towards the rickety tiered seating surrounding the walls.
The space they leave in the centre of the wide room shivers momentarily and then a huge raised platform appears. It's circular and about the size of a muggle basketball court; but something about it reminds me of a boxing ring, maybe the way the crowd gathers around it. It has no ropes though, and is round, with peculiar carvings along the edges of the raised dais.
The excitement of the crowd is tangible and building, the murmuring getting louder and more intense. On both sides of me I notice hands snaking out from robes and exchanging money, heads bent close in swift conversation. A coil of unease stirs in my stomach.
A booming, magically enhanced voice fills the room, giving me a start.
"Duellers - starting positions."
The room erupts in noise, cheers and a peculiar baying that I find instantly sinister. My eyes find the ring again as everyone watches the centre of the room in anticipation and I'm glad for the noise because my gasp is loud and involuntary.
The white smoke of apparation settles in one corner and I recognise him even before he's fully materialised.
Harry.
Standing there with no robe on now, just a black singlet fitted to his lean body and black military style pants. He stands with his legs hip width apart, his face expressionless. His hair is pulled back from his face for a change, tied with a band at the back which I've never seen him do, not once since his hair grew so long.
I'm taken aback by his appearance. He looks suddenly older, yet not the same kind of weary prematurely aged look that's haunted him since the end of the war. It's a tougher edge to him now, a steely quality as he stands there - far broader and more muscular than I'd realised he'd become. My unease grows when I realise that I see none of the Harry I know in his expression. A muscle is visible as it twitches in his jaw and I see this is someone new, someone I don't seem to know and for a second it scares me.
His gaze is calm and unreadable as his eyes fix on the spot opposite him and I turn to follow his stare.
Black smoke clears and falls along the floor to reveal a figure in all black also - a tall, solidly built wizard with dark brows pulled close over his small eyes and large nose. I don't recognise him, but I don't like the menacing smile he gives when he lays eyes on Harry.
The voice booms again.
"Wards!"
Harry and the other wizard remain fixed to the spot as thin green lines begin to rise up from the edges of the dais, snaking their way up into the air, nearly reaching the ceiling, before crossing over each other to continue down to the opposite side of the ring. The lines lash across quickly like mesh, to the building excitement of the crowd, until they are all fixed in place, forming a dome shape. Then they crackle with electricity before they glow brightly and meld into a transparent dome that is sheer enough to see through but gives a green tinge to both Harry and his opponent.
My fingers rise shakily to my mouth as I finally accept what's going to happen. The voice booms again.
"Duellers, bow. Now, BEGIN!"
*
Five months earlier
*
The knock at my door is soft; I barely catch it over the rain.
I glance at the clock above my fireplace. It's two in the morning. There's only one person who'd arrive unannounced at this time. I hurry to the door.
He leans heavily against the door jamb, clutching his arm. His hair is wet and plastered to his face, saturated like the rest of him from the heavy rain hammering the parked cars on the street.
He wears no jacket, just a light long sleeved shirt which clings to him, transparent in the places where it's stuck to his skin. My heart clenches painfully.
"Harry!!"
I reach for him immediately, both hands grabbing his forearms and pulling him towards me, in through the door. His responding hiss and wince of pain doesn't escape me and as soon as we're inside, with the door locked again and Harry leaning his back against the wall in my hallway, I inspect him frantically.
"What's wrong - what's happened?"
My eyes follow my hands as they cover every part of him, from his face, down his chest and arms as I gently press and run my hands over him, checking for injuries. His face is freshly bruised and his lip and brow bone both split. The wrist he's holding is broken, which I find out when he draws another sharp breath at my touch.
"Oh, Harry...what's happened?" I ask again, my voice less shrill with the relief that he's here; he's safe now with me, though tears rise in my eyes and I blink them back. I hold the hand and forearm of his broken wrist delicately, noting his knuckles are bloodied and mashed.
He still doesn't answer; his head hanging as he fights to keep himself upright, the water dripping from his hair to my carpet along with the blood from his hand. He mumbles something I don't catch and shakes his head. I sigh and duck under his arm to help him into my lounge.
I help him sit gingerly on the couch and carefully extract his shirt, using my wand to cut the sleeve off his bad arm. I summon a towel and a first aid kit and kneel down in front of him. I place my hands gently on his knees.
"Let's get you fixed up."
He doesn't reply but offers no resistance as I pick up the towel and run it over his arms and chest. I can feel him watching me; I keep my eyes on my hands as I wipe the towel down his waist, and across his stomach, knowing a drying charm would be painful on his open wounds. I don't remember his physique being like this. He's lean and muscular- much more muscular than I remember.
Silently I give thanks that all Magical Law employees had to do an intense Healing course as I perform complex movements over his wrist, immobilizing it. Then I perform another charm, delivering the equivalent of strong muggle painkillers to his bloodstream. I notice the tension lines around his mouth soften as the charm takes effect.
He leans back into the couch, his eyes closed and his head back.
"Thanks...'Mione..."
I don't answer; I just go about dabbing his cuts with Liquid Episkey. He must be able to feel them knitting over slowly, because he flinches in pain. I mutter a quick apology, moving on to smear a cream on his cheek bone and other bruises. Then I gingerly take hold of his sore arm.
"We should get you to a doctor for this wrist. I don't think...I've never fixed anything that serious."
He shakes his head with renewed energy. "No, please...can you just try? I can't...I don't want to go to the hospital."
I frown at him. "Harry, if I get it wrong..."
"You won't." He smiles softly at me. "You never get it wrong."
I make a doubtful expression but look down at his wrist and make the decision.
"Here goes."
Focusing on his hand I move my wand in the patterns required to realign the bones, relived when the appropriate gold and white sparks stream out of the wand to cocoon his wrist. He grunts as the pain travels up his arm, his fingers biting into his knee.
The pain subsides quickly though and he opens his eyes and looks at me. I feel flushed but satisfied.
His face is a bit ashen but he looks otherwise fine and I smile, brushing some hair from his forehead.
He studies me for a long moment, and then turns his attention back to his wrist. Slowly opening and closing his fist he gazes at his fingers and then back at me.
"You did it."
I wave a hand at him and begin packing away the first aid kit. "It was just a small fracture."
I catch his grin, at my modesty I think, and then he's trying to help me put things back in the kit. I stand and carry it over to the kitchen bench, along with his shirt, throwing the latter into the laundry basket under the bench.
He looks at me from across the room and for the first time I'm self conscious that I'm wearing a dressing gown and pyjamas. I clear my throat.
"So are you going to tell me what happened or not?"
He watches me carefully.
"No."
"No. That's it? Just...'no'."
He shrugs. I walk back over to him, feeling my temper bubbling to the surface.
"What if 'no' isn't good enough? What then?"
He shrugs again. It makes me wild.
"I don't know what to tell you. I got in a fight, alright?"
"With who?"
"It was just a fight."
"Not when you break your fucking wrist, Harry."
He stares at me for a moment, an expression I haven't seen. Then I realise his lip is twitching. He tries, but he can't hold it in; a definite smile escapes. I frown deeper.
"This is funny?"
I see him trying to keep himself under control, and failing. His grin is kinda thawing me and that irritates me more.
"No. It's just...you said 'fuck'. You never say 'fuck'."
I give an exaggerated sigh and angrily pick up cotton balls to send to the rubbish with my wand.
"I did bloody not."
He's still trying to suppress his laugh and I glare angrily at him.
"I said 'fucking'."
He laughs outright then, and even though I try to keep my frown, I can't help it. I laugh too. I relax a little, feeling that wherever he's been, whatever he's been doing...he's safe now. I summon him another towel and some clothes for a shower and throw them at his face. He smiles and stands, grabbing my head and roughly kissing my temple before heading up the stairs.
"Thanks 'Mione. You're the best."
*
The crowd roars a deafening cheer and I flinch. I recover just enough to reposition myself so I can move around the now seething crowd to see Harry again.
He and his opponent are circling each other warily in a crouch on opposite sides of the ring. They both hold their wands out in front of them, waiting for the other to make the first move.
Harry moves his arm in an arc suddenly and I recognise his Protego shield as it deflects a lazy shot from his opponent. The other man smiles with sinister pleasure and I find my feet starting to carry me forward through the crowd, weaving through the bodies jostling for better viewing positions.
Harry stretches his neck to one side and then the other and bounces up on to the balls of his feet, moving further around the ring. His opponent turns to the crowd, shrugging with arms wide and a scornful expression on his face - mocking Harry. They cheer loudly in response and so maybe it's only me who notices the swift flick of Harry's wand.
The other wizard's smug look disappears instantly and he staggers slightly, eyes wide. He turns and I see it - a long red gash along the length of his face, from cheekbone to chin. My shocked shriek goes unheard, drowned out by the loud approval of the crowd. I stare at Harry as he cricks his neck again and glares at his rival, a slight tug at the corner of his lips giving a grim smile. He gives the barest nod to the other wizard who is bringing his hand away from his face to check the scarlet blood on his fingertips. The wizard wipes his cheek angrily with the sleeve of his robe as the crowd gets even louder, and seems to lean forward in anticipation.
"Harry.."
His name falls from my lips in shock and then I don't have a moment to breathe before suddenly, he evaporates into white smoke, whipping quickly around the inside perimeter of the dome. His opponent follows suit, black smoke following and I find it hard to keep up; they both half materialize at times to fire shots at each other, but the crowd are so loud I can't follow it very clearly. I push through another few rows and then it happens.
Harry lands a blow that stops the other wizard dead in his tracks, jarring him out of his apparated state to fall heavily on to the ground. The wizard writhes painfully on the floor of the ring, clutching his stomach, pain etched on his face. Harry stalks towards him, swiping blood from his own lip with the back of his hand.
He stands over the wizard who seems immobile, lying there prone. I almost relax, would almost feel like cheering - if what I was witnessing wasn't so barbaric. And wasn't so ..not Harry.
Suddenly the wizard on the ground moves quickly, twisting his wand arm up and at Harry. Everything has been non-verbal until now, but I suddenly hear him shout a spell loudly.
"Avada..."
"NO!!!"
*
"Tea?"
I gesture at the kettle and Ginny shakes her head. I shrug and pull out a chair with a flick of my wand hand. She arches an eyebrow at me and then sits.
"So, what do you want me to do?"
She has the decency to look surprised. I wave it off. I haven't got time for charades, I'm busy. I know she didn't come here for a friendly visit - I know she wants something. The part of me that wants it too gets pushed down for the time being. She blinks at me before answering.
"I want you to find out where he's going."
She says it with infinite tiredness in her eyes but a stubborn tilt to her chin. I feel a surge of something like pity for her.
"How am I supposed to do that?"
She jumps up out of her chair, almost startling me, instantly pacing around my small kitchen and gesturing with her hands.
"I don't know, Hermione...don't make me beg for this. Please. You'll figure it out. You always do." She stares at me, desperate and if not a little crazed. I shake my head.
"Ginny, you know him. You know that if he doesn't want me to find out what he's up to, it'll be near impossible to find out."
She's in front of me in a second, holding my hands in my lap. She squeezes her eyes tight when she speaks, and I feel her trembling - barely in control.
"I know that but...you're smarter than him. You can figure it out and...and he won't disown you for snooping."
She looks up at me, her eyes wide and filling with water. I press my lips together and nod slowly.
"Alright. I'll try."
*
I feel myself propelled forward, my every instinct straining towards him. My wand is suddenly out and aiming a blue Protego shield at Harry, to protect him.
It deflects quickly, and loudly, like the chime of a huge gong, off the large green dome - causing the whole thing to ripple and cloud. And suddenly I'm there, ringside. Searching desperately for him within the dome and failing to notice that the crowd has fallen unnervingly quiet.
The smoke within the dome clears and I see his face; the relief washing through me is almost enough to make me stumble. I see him frowning down at me but that doesn't really register, I just need to know he's okay. I look him up and down from the outside of the dome, desperate to press my palms against it but not sure how it would react. I see him mouth my name but I can't hear him at all. Then suddenly the dome flickers and then fades. The crowd roars its disapproval and suddenly a tall and extremely thin wizard appears -his shiny black hair long and falling down onto his shoulders from under the hood that he wears up over his head. I climb the steps up the platform, keeping my eyes mostly on Harry though - so unsure of the expression on his face. I slowly start to recognise the contempt in his firmly pressed together lips, and the anger in his eyebrows pulled tightly together in a scowl.
I don't care, I'm just glad - so desperately glad that I've stopped it - and that he's alright.
"May I ask.."
The tall wizard addresses me directly and I turn to him. He suddenly apparates instantly forward until he's only inches from my face. I flinch, I can't help it, but I hold my ground. Harry starts moving towards us though.
"..what you think you're doing?"
His voice is clipped and shadowed by a soft lisp, almost like a hissing. There's something very strange about this wizard and I feel uneasy, especially as Harry now looks a little more like himself, and is definitely trying to manoeuvre his body to stand between me and the wizard, I can tell. I step deliberately to the side and away from him; draw my shoulders back and answer.
"I'm stopping this barbaric... archaic... macho.. nonsense!"
The room seems to fall even quieter, my voice echoing through the tall warehouse. The wizard just stares at me, his eyes a dull and unsettling black - frightening eyes, I realise. I lift my chin slightly in defiance and with bravado that I don't really feel. I tighten my fist around my wand.
He stares at me a moment longer, and then he laughs. Loud and long. I frown, glancing at Harry who is not looking at me at all.
"Miss Hermione Jane Granger!" The wizard grips my wrist quickly and painfully, twisting me around to face the crowd. Harry finally meets my gaze as I glance at him. He shakes his head minutely, seemingly warning me with his eyes. The wizard continues, walking me around the ring as he talks.
"Heroine of the Battle of Hogwarts! Sidekick of our beloved Harry Potter. " He smiles down at me, his voice carrying a trace of humour - his eyes glinting and filled with malice.
"The brains behind the trio that vanquished the Dark Lord." There was no humour in that whatsoever.
He yanks me roughly around to face him and speaks the next words to the crowd, but looking straight into my eyes.
"She is the reason this match was aborted. The reason why you might now be finding yourself...." he turns to address the crowd with a sickly smile. "...out of pocket."
The crowd roars again, and a strange chanting starts. I have no idea what they're saying, it sounds like another language. But Harry steps suddenly forward, griping my arms and pulling me back and away from the wizard and hard against his body.
"No, Corvus. Take me."
I struggle to move out of his hold but his fingers tightened painfully around my upper arms. I try again but he holds me fast in an iron grip.
Corvus smiles, wide enough for me to see his grey teeth.
"But I already have you, Harry."
I whip my head up and back to see Harry's reaction for this. He stares straight ahead, a muscle flexing in his jaw.
Corvus steps forward, close to me and trails a black gloved finger down my jaw. I flinch away and he grabs me quickly - gripping me roughly around the neck before I realise what's happening. Harry makes an involuntary movement towards me but seems to restrain himself, standing face to face with Corvus now, breathing hard. Corvus smiles in Harry's face.
"Unless you offer her as a sacrifice? I'm more than happy with that exchange."
Harry's face contorts into an expression I've never seen, one of rage and pain that's even worse than anything I've witnessed in him in all our years fighting Voldemort. I see he tries to maintain eye contact with Corvus, but finally he bows his head to look at the ground.
"No. Just...don't hurt her."
Corvus releases his tight grip on me and moves his hand to cup the back of Harry's neck, almost as a father would a son. He presses his lips to Harry's jet black hair and nearly whispers his next words.
"Of course not." He releases Harry and steps back, turning his palms up.
"You are free to go."
Relief washes through me, but Harry stands rigid, fixed to the spot, still staring at Corvus. I grab his wrist and shake.
"Harry?"
Corvus smiles and gestures at me and then towards the door.
"Harry?" he repeats.
I start to pull him towards the edge of the ring. Harry moves a few steps, his eyes still fixed on Corvus.
"Come on. Please."
He turns to look at me, as if suddenly remembering I'm there. He searches my eyes for a moment and then nods, following me as I lead him down the small steps leading from the raised dais. The crowd watches, hushed. They part for us as they pass, and I instinctively grasp Harry's arm closer.
Now that we're out of the crowd, I speed up, nearly dragging him behind me. We make it to the end of the hallway and I open the steel door and cross the threshold.
"Compello Pactum."
I hear the words in a booming voice before my legs go from underneath me. I feel Harry's arms catch me and slow my progress to the ground just before everything goes black.