Unofficial Portkey Archive

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: 6,800 of 35,000 total (approx)

For: Lady Bluestar and her request prompt: Duelling, serious or playful.

Warnings: Low grade violence, non explicit sex, swears, poss infidelity.

Thanks for all the great reviews :)

Chapter Four

That night, after we arrive back at Grimmauld from Aberforth's, we sleep in the same bed.

Sleep isn't exactly the right terminology - 'pass out' is probably more correct. We're both exhausted and there's only time for Harry to mention to me I should just stay here before I collapse fully clothed on the huge bed in the attic room. I'm awake just long enough to feel Harry's weight on the bed next to me and then I sleep the sleep of the dead; not waking until bright sunlight touches my eyelids from the skylights above.

I stir, rolling onto my back and feeling every muscle in my body that I didn't realise I had.

"You need to get hold of Ron."

I turn around, squinting, trying to find him. He's sitting up against the headboard, knees bent up, feet and chest bare.

"What?" I try and shake the sleep fog as I sit up.

"Ron. He's trying to find you."

"Shit."

I rub my eyes, looking down at my still fully clothed body. My mouth is dry and I feel like crap.

"Here."

Harry passes me a mug of Recovery Draught and I take it gratefully. I glance at Harry after I take a sip.

"He called here?"

"Yeah. Twice."

Harry's reading a book and doesn't look in my direction. I stand up, still feeling sore. I wonder if he's going to let me leave without saying anything more.

"Come back afterwards. We've got work to do."

I nod, and apparate home.

*

After a shower and a change of clothes, I floo into work. My floor is deserted - no one but me generally ever works in the weekend. But for the first time, I'm not even tempted to look at the in tray. I head straight to the unregistered floos in back.

Ron answers almost immediately.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah, hi."

"Where have you been?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I've been trying to get hold of you for the last two days! I've tried everyone and nobody knows where you are...."

"Why, Ron?" I sigh, and brush a hand through my hair. I glance back and double check that the background behind me mirrors my parent's living room in Australia. I feel bad that I'm trying to deceive him but I'm beginning to wonder what his motives are anyway.

"What do you mean why? You're my girlfriend, aren't you?"

I shake my head. "I don't even know what that means anymore. Other than that it seems to give you license to play parole officer and make me check in with you more than I do my own mother."

Ron's face freezes in the embers. I think this time maybe I've done it. But then he surprises me.

"Okay. I just...I was worried about you."

I shrug, looking down at my hands on my knees. "I'm fine."

He launches into a long description of his Quidditch training and his work and neglects to ask me anything about my parents until the very end. I tell him they're fine and that I'll call him in a few days and then he's gone.

He hangs up and I sit there for a moment, digesting our conversation. Then I make another call.

"Ginny?"

"Hi, Hermione. I know you're away, aren't you."

I nod, feeling a little disgusted in myself. "Yeah I am. Sorry."

She shakes her head. "It's okay. I think Harry's out of town anyway."

I try and hide the surprise from my face. "Okay."

"Yeah so, I'll see you when you get back maybe?"

I frown, a little confused but then nod in reply. She hangs up quickly too and I'm beginning to wonder if I can read anyone accurately anymore.

I move out of the floo rooms and head towards the nearest apparation point. And try and calm the nerves in my belly.

If I'm honest, it's not really nerves. It's excitement.

And I know what it's about. My first duel is only two days away and I should be feeling nervous at best; petrified at worst.

Instead, I can barely bring myself to think about it. Because I can't stop myself from thinking about him.

I'm trying to ignore it but in my rare moments alone, I know my feelings towards him are changing. At any given moment I can picture him, lit by the light of that lamp, jeans low on his hips and the distracting lines of his stomach and what they do to my insides. It's stupid; it's naive, immature, maybe even predictable. All the things I hate. And I think I'm powerless to stop it.

*

When I close my eyes, all I can see is bright flashes of colour.

The blues of shielding spells, the reds of stunning curses. My mind is a jumble of incantations and correct wand positions and my muscles ache like nobody's business.

It's dark outside, we've spent the whole day duelling. Harry has gone to help Kreacher prepare dinner and I'm getting dressed in the bathroom down the hall from the attic.

Catching sight of myself in the mirror, I look a bit of a mess.

Along with the now standard small scratches and whip marks on my forearms, there's another few, more impressive additions. My lip is cut and a purple bruise is blossoming on my cheekbone from where one of Harry's Body Bind curses had sent me plummeting to the ground too fast and my face had slammed into the floor. Not my most elegant of moments.

I think I blacked out for a moment. When I'd come to, Harry was kneeling over me looking concerned. He'd helped me sit up and summoned some water, watching me carefully as I fought to clear the fuzziness from my vision and stand again. He'd made me stay down, telling me not to rush.

"Wait, wait. Just take your time."

"There's no rest..."

He'd brushed the pad of his thumb lightly over my cheekbone which had already become tender.

"In the dome...yeah I know. But just take a minute. That was a decent knock."

I tried to nod but my head hadn't finished swimming yet.

"Come on. Let's call it a night."

He'd shut down the dome despite my mumbled protests and bundled me off to the bathroom with a clean towel. I'd reluctantly complied; I know now that I can't waste one minute of practice. We go back to the den tomorrow night and I still haven't cast one Unforgiveable.

I throw on some loose pants and a fitted tee from the collection of my clothes hung permanently over the hook on the back of the bathroom door. I look over at my toothbrush in the holder, my collection of moisturisers and cleansers on the sink top and then back at my face in the mirror and realise that I've practically moved in. I run my hand through my wet hair and wonder about the strange mix of elation and terror that runs through me at the thought.

The knock at the door startles me.

"You okay in there?"

I smooth my hair quickly and clear my throat before calling out.

"Yeah...I'm fine, I'll be right out."

When I get back into the room, Harry's sitting on the bed. He's showered too and is in a black singlet and pyjama pants now and is wearing his glasses. Next to him is a tray laden with food and a small plastic box. He gestures for me to come over.

"How are you feeling?"

I try and smile and then grimace when it makes my lip split again. He pats the bed beside him.

"Here, sit." He delves into the plastic box and I sit patiently. He pulls out a cotton bud and some Liquid Episkey.

He shifts a little closer and examines my lip. He makes a sympathetic noise and then glances up into my eyes.

"This is a bit of a déjà vu, isn't it."

I nod, trying not to smile too wide.

"Except we've reversed roles this time."

"Mmm." He nods and then concentrates on my lip, dabbing the Episkey on my cut. "This shit hurts like hell."

I squeeze my eyes shut tight as his words become truth. I can feel the skin knitting over then and I watch his eyes studying the progress from behind his glasses. It's strange to see him in them again - they look out of place on him now. He looks back at me and I look up and away and try not to fidget.

"There. Looks good."

I nod and look down at my hands in my lap. I can smell the freshly washed scent of him that's becoming really familiar and it smells too good to me. I try really hard not to breathe.

He rummages in the box again and comes out with some cream. I watch the ceiling as he smoothes it over my cheekbone, waiting for him to be done. Finally, he pats my knee.

"Alright?"

I nod, still avoiding looking at him. Out of the corner of my eye I watch him pack everything away. Then he pushes the tray towards me and grabs his own plate off it, scooting back onto the bed and settling down to eat off his lap. I follow suit.

We eat in silence for a while. My heart is still hammering in my chest and I stubbornly ignore it.

"Do you mind sleeping with me up here?"

I nearly choke on my food.

"No. What? No, well, I mean..."

"I could make up a room down the hall for you. I just figured this bed is big enough and it's just easier to crash here."

I use all my effort to swallow the food stuck halfway down my throat and then force myself to look at him. I produce my best effort at a smile.

"Sure. Of course. It's fine, Harry."

He nods but I can't see his expression because his glasses are reflecting the lamplight and I can't see his eyes. He goes back to eating and so do I.

"So tomorrow morning, we'll head out to Hogsmeade. One more round at Aberforth's oughta do it."

I'm not so sure but I just nod my agreement.

We finish eating and Kreacher comes and clears the dishes away and then I'm not sure what to do. We've only ever slept in this bed when we've fallen into it - so I'm not sure how to go about it this time. Harry doesn't seem to have any such worries; he yanks off his singlet and climbs into the bed. He removes his glasses and leans over to lay them on the bedside table. Then he flicks off the light on his side and looks over at me.

I feel like such an idiot, standing there. But I know I can't get in the bed with him lying there like that. He doesn't even have the courtesy to pull the blanket up higher than his waist. And he's still looking at me.

I stand up abruptly, mumbling something about brushing my teeth and quickly leave the room. When I get back, he's on his side, asleep already I think. I climb gingerly under the blanket, trying not to wake him, staying way over on my side of the bed. He doesn't stir and I finally settle, staring at the ceiling and listening to his slow and steady breath, wishing sleep would come as easily to me.

*

Aberforth is nowhere to be seen when we arrive at The Hog's Head but Harry just makes his own way down to the corridor with the statue of the goat with no hesitation. He's been quiet this morning, and I wonder if he's feeling as nervous as I am.

It's tonight. We have to go back there tonight.

It's confirmed that he's just as edgy as me as soon as we get into the dome in Aberforth's basement.

"Unforgiveables."

The way he says the word sounds ominous and uncompromising. He looks at me in the same way. I nod shortly and he does back. Then he conjures an opponent for me.

The sheer size of him gives it away before the vision is completed. He leers at me hungrily and I struggle to hold down my repulsion. Fenrir Greyback.

Harry looks at me from beside the huge werewolf.

"Imperius Curse. Start with that." He points to the huge image of Greyback. "It's trickier with these simulations because there's only an imitation of a mind. But it's still possible, and if you can do it with them, it'll be a piece of cake with a live opponent."

My palm feels instantly clammy but I nod anyway. Harry moves away to the edge of the dome.

The image of Fenrir is accurate right down to the smell. My throat tightens but I face up to him and bow. I try and remember everything Harry has said, as Fenrir bows as well.

Remember.

I think of Fenrir and his lust for feeding on small children. My eyes narrow and I draw up the right wand movements and utter the word.

"Imperio."

He moves to step towards me but his progress seems slowed by an invisible wall. He glances down, puzzled and I'm heartened; I feel the thread of power emanating from the end of my wand and I increase it - delving deeper into his mind.

Fenrir's eyes widen momentarily and then he's thrown; up and backwards, head over heels to land roughly on his back. The thrill of success powers through me and I feel it - the ease of which I can manipulate this; it feels as if I'm throwing around nothing heavier than a feather. I force him to flip again, violently through the air and against the side of the dome. He lands heavily on the floor and then promptly disappears.

I don't feel Harry approach until his arms are tight around me and I'm spinning around.

"Brilliant! Hermione! That's it!"

I grin, my face flushed with my own success. He places me back on my feet and grips my upper arms setting me back to grin down into my face. "You did it!"

I smile, shaking my head at his glee. "It was okay."

"Better than okay. Much better. I could..."

Suddenly, he grabs my face and kisses me. Hard, on the lips.

"...Kiss you."

He's grinning at me. Completely unaffected that he just kissed me and all the while I'm just hoping he doesn't let go straight away because I'm not sure if I can stand unassisted anymore. Suddenly I'm not so proud of myself.

"Harry."

"Sorry. Go again."

He turns and walks away and I gather myself while his back is turned. My voice is stern inside my mind.

Get your head together.

I'm composed by the time he turns around to generate another opponent for me.

"Let's go."

*

Not long after, Aberforth comes down to sit in on our practice. For some reason she insists on us fighting together, side by side against two opponents, saying cryptically that we need to be prepared for anything. Afterwards, he has no problem critiquing us - or at least me.

"Well first of all, you're still hesitating too much. You can't give them a moment, not a second. They'll take it."

I nod silently because he's right.

"You have a strong Imperius; use it more."

He stands and walks over to me as I stand in the middle of the crucis, looking me up and down. The large basement room is well lit and now very warm; we've been training for hours.

"And get the hair out of your eyes."

I can see Harry trying not to smile and I find myself suppressing one too. Aberforth notices, and glares at us in turn.

"But your biggest weakness is each other."

He gets our attention with that. He presses his lips together and starts pacing.

"You care too much about each other. It's coming off you in waves. That's your vulnerability."

I lose my smile then. Again, Aberforth's shrewd observations are spot on.

"Now, I don't know what's going on between you two and I don't wanna know. I just know this; if you let it become obvious to your opponents, it's going to be a problem." He waves a hand to punctuate his words. "And remember, any time emotion goes up, intelligence goes down - that's certain."

We both shift our stances, neither looking at the other. Aberforth just grunts and turns, making his way down off the crucis and towards the stairs. We follow; both silent. Harry pauses at the stairwell, and we hesitate awkwardly for a moment, unsure of who's going first. He finally steps back and gestures for me to go ahead.

We climb the dark steps quietly.

*

"You're quiet."

We're back home - funny that I consider Grimmauld 'home' so easily. I guess it feels more like home than my parents or Ron's or anywhere else lately, whether that's right or wrong.

"Sorry."

I didn't notice him coming to stand next to me. I'm staring into the fire as the flames lick the small logs Kreacher just added. We're eating dinner in the kitchen for a change; I'm not sure why. Harry just decided to. I've been a bit lost in my own thoughts since we arrived back from Aberforth's.

"No, look I'm sorry if I was a bit harsh today."

I shake my head.

"I'm fine. Just nervous I guess."

That's kind of true. I am nervous; about feelings I shouldn't be having and how deep they're beginning to run.

He puts a warm hand on the back of my neck. It takes all my will not to pull away.

"You'll be great. You'll be fine, I really believe that."

He sounds more like he's convincing himself. I turn and look up at him and at least he takes his hand away from my neck. I decide to follow his line of thought because that's the easiest option.

"I'm not sure. I only threw one Cruciatus and I couldn't hold it...."

He shakes his head.

"Yeah but you got Imperious going really well by the end of today." He reaches out and turns me a bit more towards him but I stare stubbornly at the fire again.

"Hey." I still won't look at him. He sighs and drops his hand. "It's not an exam, Hermione. You don't have to get one hundred percent - it's not going on a scorecard, you're not being graded. You just need to get through."

He waits a moment and then turns me to him. I give in and look up. Lit by firelight, his eyes are dark with half of his features in shadow. There's that nose that's not perfectly straight, the dark brows. Lips that are actually quite full, now that I'm noticing. That felt good kissing mine, even for just that brief moment.

I can tell he's trying to figure out what I'm thinking and that's a little dangerous so I move into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He pulls me in tight and presses his lips against the top of my head, as I hoped he would. So I don't have to look at him anymore. He murmurs into my hair.

"You're still the smartest witch I know. And a hero of the Battle of Hogwarts. There's nothing you can't do."

I nod against his chest, hearing him but not really listening. I can feel his heart beating against me and I shouldn't really have let myself get this close. I gently extract myself.

"Thanks, Harry. I mean it, you've been great."

He grimaces. "Well, you wouldn't be in this situation if...."

"Shush."

He frowns but he stops. He watches me for a moment, leaning against the mantelpiece. Kreacher calls out that dinner is ready but Harry just keeps standing there. I incline my head towards the table and then start to move over but he catches my wrist.

"Oh, hey. Wait a sec. I've been meaning to give you this."

He turns and reaches into a large wooden box on the ledge. Opening the carved lid, he draws out a small black suede pouch.

"Here. You wanted one of these."

I open the drawstring and tip the contents into my palm. It's a wristband, made of black leather, soft and thick and identical to his. He draws out his wand and passes it slowly over my palm; the cuff rises gracefully into the air to hover over my wrist. The leather splits as I watch, and it wraps itself around my arm, covering the tattoo perfectly. Once it's sealed, I rub my fingers over it.

"Thanks. It's great."

He walks over to the kitchen table without another word.

Later, in his bed, in the dark, I ask him.

"Harry? Are you awake?"

"Mmhmm."

"Did you quit your job?"

He's silent for a bit.

"No. I've just taken selective leave. Just picking up the odd assignment."

I rustle up the courage to ask the next.

"Where did you tell Ginny you went?"

I hear him shift under the sheets, maybe turning my way.

"Ireland. Said I had a mission."

"Oh." I can hear him breathing and I'm suddenly glad the moon isn't out tonight and I can't see him. "You know she's worried about you."

"Yeah, I know. I can't do anything about that."

I answer before I can stop myself.

"Why don't you tell her? What's going on, I mean."

The sheets rustle again and I wonder if he shrugged.

"I don't know." He turns again.

"Get some sleep."

*

The warehouse is just as I remember it although it feels more like a month than a week since I was last here.

I notice more this time, maybe because I'm not so focused on following Harry.

Eyes are mostly downcast, gazes are shifted quickly. But walking behind Harry, I see a lot of them glance at him, with mixed stares that vary from revulsion to awe to horror. I don't hold anyone's stare long enough to see what they make of me.

We wade through the crowd towards the crucis, and I recognise Corvus, standing in the middle and watching our progress towards him. His arms are held in front of him, his hands clasped inside the long sleeves of his robes. His hood is down and his long hair hangs in black curtains on either side of his face which is set in a beatific smile. He opens his mouth to speak and it's already magically enhanced; booming from the ceiling, it instantly quiets the crowd.

"Mr Potter. And Miss Granger. How nice of you to join us!"

The crowd swells with unnerving laughter and I move to stand beside Harry. Corvus walks to the edge of the platform, and looking down on us, continues.

"The pleasure is all ours."

Harry has warned me not to speak too much to Corvus; telling me that he enjoys it too much and that I'd just make things harder on myself. And yet still, I find myself answering back.

"It's not like we had a choice, is it."

His black eyes crinkle as he smiles.

"Come. You don't want to insult your host on the very first visit now, do you?"

I go to speak again and it's only Harry's fingers winding around my upper arm that keep me silent. Corvus eyes the contact and raises his eyebrows.

"Oh. Well here I am, misunderstanding things. I was quite sure that young Mr Potter here was set to become a Weasley." He says the name with obvious distaste. "One. Big. Happy. Family." Then he looks me up and down appreciatively. "But now I see. Things are more...complicated than that."

Harry doesn't reply but his fingers tighten on my arm. Corvus walks forward and descends slowly down the steps to become level with us. The crowd is quiet enough for me to hear the echo of his footsteps on the concrete floor. He comes to a stop right in front of us.

"Well, far be it from me to split up a happy couple." He reaches a gloved hand up and brushes my cheek. I draw away, scowling at him. He chuckles, amused, and then addresses the crowd.

"Mr Potter and Miss Granger will duel as a team."

I whip my head sharply around to Harry. He stares at Corvus, his brows knitted together. He doesn't let on any indication if this is a good or a bad thing, other than a small muscle twitching in his jaw. I turn back to Corvus who's now climbing the stairs back up to the ring.

"Duos. In honour of our new members, we'll fight in duos, until further notice."

The crowd murmurs excitedly and I glance around to catch hands darting out of robes and further money being exchanged. Corvus turns and beckons us up onto the podium. Harry moves towards him and I follow.

"Pictor Longbottom. Norma Crouch. Take your positions."

A stocky witch and a tall and thin wizard detach from the crowd and climb the stairs, coming to stand next to Corvus. The woman removes her hood to reveal blond hair surrounding a round face with a haughty expression; her companion keeps his hood on so all I can see is his large nose catching the light from overhead.

Harry shifts at my side and then his voice sounds close to my ear.

"Watch out for Pictor - the wizard, he's a Metamorphmagus. Fast and lethal. Norma is good but slow; keep moving."

I nod tightly, watching Corvus moving to the centre of the ring to activate the wards. Harry takes his robes off and I follow; the air is cold in my training gear - a white singlet and black combat pants, but I know I'll work up a sweat quickly enough. The witch removes her outer robes; she wears a long full skirt underneath and a bodice bulging at the seams to contain her bust. The wizard keeps his robes on; standing completely motionless as the dome appears over our head.

The robes at our feet disappear at the same time that Corvus does and the booming voice nearly makes me flinch.

"Duellers. Bow!"

I glance at Harry and he nods at me, reassuring me I'm sure but it feels surreal - as if I'm dreaming. The dome seems thicker here; I can't hear the noise of the crowd very well, it sounds muffled, as if I'm underwater. I shake my head to clear it and then I'm beside Harry, facing our opponents. We bow, brandishing our wands in the way that is customary. The woman glares at me and I hold her stare. The crowd outside stills, as if holding its breath.

"Now. BEGIN!"

I rise up onto the balls of my feet, ready for a strike but it's as Harry said it would be; neither wizard wants to be the one to make the first move.

I move cautiously to the side and Harry follows my lead, the two of us taking only the smallest steps and our opponents do the same. The woman is agitated, antsy, and I feel sure she's not going to be able to hold back for much longer.

Sure enough, her arm moves in a sweeping motion; I recognise the Rictumsempra spell before she's barely uttering the words. I conjure a quick shielding spell and counter with a strong Stupefy - apparating into smoke at the same time. I hear a noise from the crowd but I'm not sure if it's approval or not; either way I'm not sticking around to figure it out; Harry said to keep moving and that's what I'm going to do.

I fly around the widest perimeter of the interior of the dome, keeping my eye on Norma as she dissolves into smoke too; her inky black column shoots straight up and along the curve of the dome to come around behind me, chasing me at speed.

I glance sideways for Harry and realise he and the wizard Pictor are beginning the same chase; weaving their way around the dome in apparated form - Harry's white and Pictor's black pillars of smoke running parallel and weaving in and out of each other as curses fire back and forth between the two. I look back around for Norma; knowing that she is my responsibility. It's my job to shut her down.

She appears suddenly in a great rush of downward smoke and I fire a low grade Sectumsempra spell at her form. She yelps and draws back as it slices across her forearm and I see a satisfying red welt appear quickly on her pale skin. It makes me realise that it's her blood or mine. And the only way out of here for good, is to spill more of hers.

She recovers fairly quickly; aiming a series of blasting Expulso curses at me; I duck and roll across the floor, quickly countering with a Confundo and then retreating to smoke form again so she can't keep track of me.

My jinx hits her squarely between the eyes as Harry and Pictor rush overhead and I see they're relentlessly firing curses at each other; merciless in their pursuit.

I look back to Norma and she's shaky on her thick legs; I materialise to solid form and face her. Her expression is bewildered; she looks almost childlike as she stumbles forward. I know this is exactly where I should take advantage and spill some more of her blood, but I hesitate.

I can hear Harry shouting at me and still I stand there frozen. Norma raises her wand hand sluggishly and mumbles a curse from between her thick lips.

"Serpensortia."

A large purple and gold snake snaps out of the end of her wand and lands with a slap at my feet. I hear someone shriek 'No!' but it's not Harry.

Suddenly he appears in a rush at my side, at the same time as Norma aims another spell at the snake and it starts to swell; its head gaining size at an incredible rate until it stares down on us, nearly twice as tall as Harry.

"I said no!" Pictor materialises next to his partner and she turns and stares hazily at him, her eyes still puzzled and unfocused. "No snakes!"

I realise what he means just as I hear Harry's low hiss as he steps in front of me.

The snake dips its huge head to regard Harry and for one moment they stand there, staring at each other. I hear more Parseltongue from him and see Pictor evaporate into smoke again, just before the snake jerks its head back around to Norma. It eyes her for a second before it moves - faster than I would have thought its huge body could.

I apparate straight upwards towards the dome ceiling as the thick tail whips around; the huge rattle on the end just missing my feet as I rise. The tail sweeps around the ring and I watch Norma's horrified face register what's going to happen just before the bulk of the snakes body wraps quickly around her.

It holds her trapped, her arms pinned to her sides, her head the only thing visible above the snake's sinuous body.

"Now!"

Harry appears in smoke form beside me and gestures down at the trapped witch. My heart lurches - I don't think I can assault her when she's defenceless like that.

Then his hand grips my wrist and I'm tugged roughly down to the ground to stand in front of her.

"Hermione! Do it!"

I know what this hesitation is costing me - is costing us and yet still, I can't. I can't be that ruthless.

Harry grips my wrist tightly, and I feel a shield form around us; radiating blue. Pictor swoops by and his green curse bounces off the shield Harry has created. But Harry doesn't look; he's staring down at me and he grabs my chin roughly and turns my face to him.

"Don't. Don't freeze up on me now. Get inside her mind. Find what you need and use it. Otherwise, we're dying tonight."

I look up into his eyes; into a face that I realise I trust more than anyone else in this world. I really do. I nod, and throw a hex without looking away from him.

"Expulso."

I turn and see Norma take the blow like a swift punch to the face; her nose instantly begins to bleed. Harry gives me one more hard stare and takes off again.

I walk towards her and do as Harry said - delve into her mind.

Flashes assault me, almost too fast to make out. Norma as a young girl being chased down a dank hallway...Norma in the Slytherin common room...Pictor meeting her somewhere, holding her hand...

Then I find it. The memory I need. It's from the night of the Battle of Hogwarts - when she was misinformed that Harry Potter was dead and the immense glee that filled her at the idea. She felt such joy and elation that Harry, my Harry could be dead.

I unleash a Stunner on her that instantly knocks her out cold. The snake immediately shatters into hundreds of pieces; falling as purple and gold sand to the floor. Norma falls on top of it in a crumpled heap sending up a puff of the fine sand.

A roar of definite approval sounds from the crowd outside the dome.

I look around for Harry and he appears not far away from me in a rush of white smoke. He turns to look at me.

I brush the hair out of my face that's come loose from my ponytail. His eyes lock with mine and he grins.

I'm about to smile back when golden ropes snap around his chest and wand arm. His face drops and he's pulled violently backwards.

"No!"

I throw the first jinx that enters my mind.

"Immobulus!"

Both Harry and Pictor are instantly frozen in motion, moving as if floating underwater. I can hear the crowd building to some sort of fever pitch but I focus on Harry - and releasing him from the ropes that seem to be beginning to burn.

Then there is searing pain.

Like a knife through my stomach it slices right across, and on up my arm. I bend over double, stumbling forward and I hear the crowd cheer. I fling my wand arm desperately in Pictor's direction - his body floats in the corner of my vision.

"Relashio!"

Red sparks burst from the end of my wand towards him in a torrent; the heat of them against my hand nearly enough to make me drop it. Pictor is thrown against the dome wall by the force of the stream and I stalk after him, forgetting Harry, forgetting the crowd. I clutch my hand to my stomach which is still blossoming pain but I'm determined to reach him.

His robes are charred and still burning in some places. One side of his face is red and marked from the sparks. I lift my hand and point my wand down at him, devoid of feeling. My hand and body don't feel like my own, maybe because of the pain, I'm not sure, but I seem to have no control over either as I unleash the curse.

"Crucio."

The power from my wand is like nothing I've ever experienced. Pictor's thin body arches impossibly as the crowd's noise doubles; it's as if the dome is no longer there, the sound of the cheering is so loud.

Pictor's body twists and changes and seems to diminish in front of me - suddenly he is half his size; a small body swimming in the now oversized robes. I stop my curse and stare as he turns over on to his back.

The face of a young boy turns up to me - half of it marked by the fire sparks from just a moment before. The boy must be around five years old; his eyes stare up at me in horror and fear.

"Please...please stop. You're hurting me."

My hand flies to my mouth in horror; I take a shaky step back. The boy stares at me, his eyes boring through me as he moves to sit. The hood of the robes falls back and I really see how young he is; I step back again.

"I'm...I didn't..."

A flash of red light shoots past me and the boy is thrown high into the air and slammed back into the wall of the dome. His body lands limply on the floor and lies there, motionless.

Harry appears at my side, gripping my arm. He stares at the boy, lowering his wand.

"I told you. He's a Metamorphmagus."

I stare up at him, only barely understanding before I feel myself slip down and into darkness.

*

I wake to the feeling of movement; I'm cradled tightly and being walked down corridors, through doors. My arms are wrapped around a neck, I'm being carried. I stir, and the arms tighten around me, lifting me up higher and closer to the person carrying me. I strengthen my grip and hold on, pressing my face against skin.

I breathe in the scent and I know it's Harry that's carrying me.

I squeeze tighter, grateful for the feeling of safety it gives me. He presses his face against my forehead and murmurs something I don't catch but it's okay - all I needed to know was that I was safe. The unshakeable tiredness overwhelms me and I'm lost again to sleep.

*

The light is low but familiar and it takes me only seconds to realise that I'm in Harry's bed.

I notice first that my body is incredibly warm, like I'm inches away from a raging fire. I stir and look down at my body; I'm covered by a glittering gold material.

I move to sit up and Harry appears from somewhere, his hand firm but gentle on my shoulder.

"Stay still. It's really important you stay still and lying down."

I comply - feeling drained and weary to my bones anyway. I watch him as he sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over to the bedside table. The sound of water dripping reaches my ears and then he places an ice cold face cloth on my forehead. I feel a little stupid, being tended to like that but I don't think I could move much now, even if my life depended on it.

He presses the cloth all over, my cheeks, neck and the tops of my shoulders.

It's then that I realise I'm naked.

I glance down; I definitely have nothing on but the leather band around my wrist. I try and move again but he stops me with his hand on my shoulder.

"Still. You're under a Sanatur blanket. You're going to be fine but you need to stay immobile if you don't want any scarring."

I obey, staying quiet and motionless under his ministrations. There's no sound other than him dipping the face cloth back into a bowl and wringing out the water before laying it back on me.

He frowns as he goes about it and he doesn't look into my eyes. I use the moment to study him; he wears a singlet and has a bandage around his bicep. There are a few scratches and welts on his face but otherwise, from what I can see, he seems alright.

"Your arm."

He glances at it and then dips and wrings out the face cloth again.

"Just a graze. It's better now."

He presses the face cloth against me again, gently over my cheeks and down across the top of my chest. Then he finally looks at me.

"Better?"

I nod. He holds my gaze for a moment, then runs a finger lightly across my eyebrow.

"You did well."

I close my eyes - remembering the duel now; running through everything that happened. I shake my head.

"No...I didn't...I couldn't..."

He leans closer and brushes my hair back from my forehead.

"You were great. Perfect. You did really well."

He bends down and kisses my forehead.

"Get some sleep."

I want to say more. I don't know what, but I want to stay awake with him. But I can feel sleep coming for me again.

I feel myself fall into it, with his fingers in my hair.

*