Unofficial Portkey Archive

Hey everyone. Here's the new chapter. I'm guessing there will be another 3 chapters to this one maybe. I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. This one has been done for awhile, I just haven't had time to edit it. The title (kinda) comes from the movie The Road to El Dorado. Awesome movie!

Sorry for any typos. I just got a new laptop, and it has a different style keyboard than my last one, so it's taking some getting used to. Also, I'll reply to reviews sometime in the next few days.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Separate Trails We Blaze

I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naïve
Men weren't meant to ride
With clouds between their knees

I'm only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me
Inside of me, inside of me

"Superman" FIVE FOR FIGHTING

***

"Potter!"

Harry whipped around at the sound of his name being called from somewhere behind him. A tall, good-looking bloke with pale skin and brown hair was striding purposely towards him. "Diggory!" Harry greeted back, shaking his outstretched hand. "I didn't expect to see to see you here--last I heard you were playing for Puddlemere."

Cedric Diggory, an old classmate from Hogwarts, laughed. "Yeah, that didn't last too long. I, uh, was a little too confident in my talent. Turns out, I wasn't nearly as good as I thought I was." He chuckled humbly, clearly over his failure.

Harry laughed in response, not sure what to say to that. "That's not how I remember it." He finally said, hoping to make lad feel better, as Harry had played and beat him on numerous occasions.

Cedric shrugged it off. "I figured that's where you would be though, to be honest." He commented with a grin. "Off living the Quidditch star dream."

Harry shook his head. "Nah, thought I'd keep it as a passion rather than an obligation."

The old Hufflepuff Seeker nodded in understanding. "So, Auror training then-it's a good career choice. What made you decide on that?" He asked conversationally.

"Seemed like a good choice at the time," Harry laughed. "You?" He fired back.

With a chuckle, Cedric replied, "Seemed like a good choice at the time." He repeated back. "It's my second year, actually. Didn't quite make the cut last year." He admitted, a little rueful.

"Oh, well…that's unfortunate. I'm sure you'll do better now that you know a little more about what to expect. Gives you a big of an edge, yeah?" Harry offered, feeling a little awkward at Cedric's honest admission.

"I hope so. I wasn't near where I needed to be last year." Cedric said with a renewed enthusiasm. "Have you been preparing?" He asked with a genuine grin.

Harry laughed in response. Not wanting to sound cocky because for all he knew, he could be way behind everyone else, he gave a shrug. "I've been trying. I guess we'll see where it gets me. Any advice for the new bloke? Any first-timer hazing I should be watching out for or anything?" Harry joked.

It was Cedric's turn to laugh. "Yeah, here's a pointer-don't so much as try to outshine everyone else as much as help lead your whole team to victory. You've really got to be a team player and look out for everyone, you know?" He mentored.

Confused, Harry raised an eyebrow. "Team? What team?" He asked, curious about this new adventure he was about to embark on.

"We get split up into two teams, and we'll face off in a bunch of challenges and such over the next two weeks, both as teams and as individuals." The old Hufflepuff briefly explained.

Harry nodded in understanding, not quite expecting a games type thing, though it did make sense. "Okay, that sounds kind of cool. How do we get sorted into teams?"

"Well, first we spend the day conditioning, pretty well showing the camp captains our talents. They'll pick back and forth, based on what they'd seen." Cedric told him as two more people walked into the room the group was meeting in.

Harry was about to asked what sort of conditioning they were going to be going through when a girl addressed the group milling around the room: "Attention up front, please." She called loudly, standing purposely before the now silent group. She gave them a tight smile. "I'm Sonia and this is Luke. We will be your boot camp captains." She said, pointing to her companion standing to her left.

The first thing Harry noticed about the pair of them was that they were both in incredible shape. Suddenly, he felt insecure about his own level of fitness-something he had been rather confident in, especially the last few months. The girl was short with dark hair pulled back into a long plait down to the middle of her back. She had a slim figure with thick, muscled legs in her spandex trousers. He could tell her body was probably every bit as firm as it looked without a soft, pudgy spot anywhere on her. The man beside her-Luke, he was called-was the same. He was tall, with dirty blond hair and tanned skin. He had a lean frame, with long, defined muscles along his arms and legs. Through his tight shirt, Harry could see the defines of a perfect six-pack torso. Unconsciously, Harry slipped a hand over his own abdominals that paled so pathetically in comparison that he may as well have been standing there in the body of his Uncle Vernon.

Sonia told them they would be taking portkeys to the camp. "Five to a portkey." She called, gesturing towards the five large hoops lying on the table at the front of the room. "One will have four."

All too quickly, they were scrambling forward to latch on to a portkey. Harry shared one with Cedric, as well as three other blokes he didn't know. He felt a tug somewhere below his navel before feeling the familiar rush of being lifted from the ground as his hand held tightly to the hoop. He barely managed to remain upright once the ground was stable beneath his feet.

"Alright there, mate?" Cedric asked, clapping him on the back.

"Yeah, I bloody hate traveling by portkey-" Harry began to reply, but the ground suddenly started shaking again violently, and out of nowhere, Stunning Spells rained down on the group of newcomers. Not sure what was going on, Harry pulled out his wand while ducking, as everyone else also scrambled about. "Protego!" He yelled, casting a Shield Charm around himself as he was engulfed in a transparent, blue light. Taking a look around now that he was safe from the attack, he noticed the red beams of light from the Stunning Spells were coming from somewhere overhead and out of sight. Had the camp been under siege? The body count on the ground was rising. Quickly, Harry rushed around, circling the group and shouting, "Protego Totalum!" As he created a protective dome around the small area of the group, he watched the red beams deflect away from them. He wasn't sure how long he would be able to hold it, with the onslaught of multiple attacks, but he had to try. The others were trying to gain their bearings and not trip over those that had been Stunned. Suddenly, Harry felt the attack on them cease immediately.

"That will be enough, Potter!" He heard a muffled voice on the verge of being irate call to him. Standing in front of him, just on the other side of his barrier and unable to break through, was Sonia. He released his shield at once.

Scowl-faced and angry, the shorter woman stood toe-to-toe with him. "I want to thank you for ruining the first training exercise-a test to see how each of you react to a spontaneous attack." She looked around at fallen bodies, most of which now were being revived and stirring feebly with confusion on their faces. It didn't take long for everyone to realize what had happened.

Harry instantly felt stupid. "Oh! I'm sorry. I thought…" He felt like admitting to thinking it might have been a Death Eater attack would have make him look perhaps even more foolish, so he finished lamely saying, "Er…I dunno…just instinct I guess." He felt his face redden.

"Or perhaps a natural instinct to play the hero and show off, making everyone else look weak in comparison." She stated, loud enough for everyone to hear, possibly aiming to rile immediate dislike among the group for the glory-seeker that had made them look incompetent.

Irritated, Harry found the words leave his mouth before he had a chance to stop himself, "A natural instinct to protect others-I thought that's what this business was all about after all."

His sardonic comment caused Sonia to raise an eyebrow. "Sounds like someone needs an attitude adjustment. You can take your natural instincts," She told him menacingly, "And apply them to kitchen detail tonight, and every night for the rest of the two weeks. And because you like to protect others so much, you'll be handling that alone. I will not tolerate disrespect, Potter, and believe me when I say I will make your time here miserable."

Anger bubbling inside, Harry had to bite back another sarcastic retort.

After another glare, she addressed everyone else, "Two rows. Now." She snapped, walking away from Harry.

Luke stopped in front of Harry and had to stifle a laugh, "Way to rile her up within your first half-hour, mate." He clapped Harry on his shoulder. "I think that might be a record." He grinned at Harry once more before he too walked away.

Harry heard a chuckle and looked over to see Cedric had fallen into place beside him.

Fuming from the blindside, he hissed, "You could have given me a heads up, you know!"

Cedric shrugged. "They didn't do that last year. First surprise attack was at three in the morning on our first night. Welcome to training camp." He laughed.

***

"And to what do I owe this pleasure, Miss Granger?" Professor Dumbledore asked, peering at Hermione through his half-mooned spectacles as Hermione sat across from him in his office.

"Hello, Headmaster. Thank you for meeting with me." Hermione said, smiling politely.

Dumbledore bowed his head in acknowledgement. "No trouble. I just hope everything is alright?" He asked, looking concerned.

Hermione nodded. "Oh, yeah nothing is wrong or anything. I just had a few questions, is all." She quickly assured him. "You see, my family and I are planning on going to Greece in a few days, and I just wanted to make sure it would be a safe time for traveling." Hermione explain briefly.

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "Of course, I can see your concern." He said, steepling his fingertips together in front of him. "I see no qualms with your vacation plans, Miss Granger. If you wish, I could send someone to check on you and your family periodically?" He offered.

Hermione smiled, but politely shook her head. "No, that won't be necessary. I didn't think it would be a problem; I just wanted to double check." She admitted guiltily.

"I understand, Miss Granger." The old man said with a nod. After a short pause, he continued intuitively. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Hermione let out a sigh. "Actually…yes, there's more…something...something I thought you ought to know. I think Harry is planning on asking you about it, but I really don't want to take any chances here. He hasn't said anything to me about it-I found out by accident." Hermione confessed. I…I just think it is important, I guess."

Dumbledore nodded for her to continue. "What is it?"

Hermione told him everything she could remember reading in Harry's dream journal. She told him about his scar hurting, about the different quality of Harry's visions and his own predictions about it all. She mentioned her concerns that he was taking this burden on himself alone. For twenty minutes, the headmaster sat mostly in silence, listening to Hermione's distress. Finally, she ended it with the heavy question, "What does all this mean?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily and cleared his throat. "The scar on his forehead, this link between Harry and Voldemort, has developed even more-especially since his return. I am inclined to agree with his theory that sometimes these images are meant to be put in his head-real or fake-they are still essentially planted in his mind. They are clear and meticulously detailed. The other, more murky images…possibly just the link taking on a life of its own." The older man guessed.

"And do you think this…this link works both ways? That he can get information from Harry's mind? Like how he knew we would be at the Quidditch match?" Hermione pressed, eager for any insight the man could share with her.

After a few beats of silence, Dumbledore responded solemn-faced, "I think it would be foolish to think otherwise. This connection is a delicate two-way street, I believe."

Hermione nodded, "And his secret weapon? What do you make of that? He wouldn't tell Snape!" She reminded him.

"Professor Snape," He automatically corrected. "We will figure it out, Hermione. We just have to work together on this. I will do my best to convince Harry of that, I assure you. No one is in this alone." Dumbledore promised meaningfully.

"I feel…useless." Hermione admitted. "I've been on vacation, I'm going on vacation again. I…I need something to do, professor. I need a way to help." Hermione half-pleaded. "I feel like I haven't contributed anything, anything at all. I mean, I have no idea what we are even doing on the Voldemort front-actually, I guess I should say I don't know what the Order is doing, seeing as I'm not doing anything." Hermione spat bitterly.

"Right now, you can help by keeping yourself and your family safe, Hermione." He told her gently. "I know waiting around can be frustrating, but we must take cautious steps to ensure no one gets hurt." He explained softly. "The last thing we want to do is to battle Voldemort unprepared. I will not risk lives because we act out of haste and are ill-equipped. Your time will come. The best thing you can do now is keep you head down. The rash actions at the Quidditch match…" he trailed off, a slight accusary tone in his voice. He shook he head slowly. "We cannot have that. Our moves must be precise. Calculated. Rashness…it gets people killed, Hermione. You and Harry will do well to remember that."

The accusation in his words made Hermione feel worse than Mrs. Potter's ever had. Guilt-ridden and shame-faced, Hermione could only nod in reply.

"Go to Greece-be safe. When you comeback, we will talk again. Clarence told me you would be helping her in her library. There are several ways to contribute. I cannot disclose every single mission and detail, but for the most part, you can be as active as you would like in the Order once you return." The old man said, a small sad smile in place.

After a few beats of silence, she finally nodded in defeat. Her return would be met with wasting away in the dark corners of a dusty library, putting away books by the sound of it. It also sounded as if at the moment, the Order wasn't really doing a whole lot either. Hopefully, in the next two weeks, she would remedy that. "I…I've been trying-well, I've been researching Voldemort, to see what I could find. But…well, I can't find out much that isn't already widely known-pretty well nothing about his past before, well, everything, you know? I thought maybe, if we knew more about his past, we might know more about what to expect or maybe put some reason behind his actions or…or something." Hermione insisted.

"A lot of Voldemort's past pre-his-attempt-to-take-over is not widely known. I have been able to put different pieces of the puzzle together over the course of several long years-some fact, some purely educated guesses. I agree, it is a good tactic to know anything and everything about your enemy. Even the smallest details may put one at an advantage. Maybe it will help understand actions. Character. Rhyme and reason. Maybe some details are pointless. But I have searched, far and wide, to collect everything I could concerning Voldemort-just in case." Dumbledore admitted with a sad smile.

Hermione sat waiting for him to elaborate, when he didn't, she pressed further. "Where…or who…his parents, I mean. Were they…like were they the same as him? Did you know them?" She asked, curious.

Dumbledore reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold pocket watch. "I suppose I have a little time to divulge some details concerning the tale of Tom Riddle." He said with a humorous tone, eyeing Hermione with a small smile. "That is, if you have the time, Miss Granger?" He asked, turning said pocket watch around for her to see its face.

Hermione had to lean forward to make sure she was seeing it right. Instead of a normal face, the device had twelve hands and in place of numbers, little planets moved around its edges. She had no idea how to read it, or even if it told the time at all. She looked up at Dumbledore, knowing he knew the watch would befuddle her. She grinned. "Looks like I have plenty of time." Hermione responded cheekily.

***

A few days at boot camp, and Harry was quickly realizing he had not been as prepared as he would have liked.

It was difficult.

He had been chosen to be on Luke Hale's team, which he had been relieved about. Sonia did not care for him.

At all.

Her promise to make him miserable was one she was adamant about following through on. His first night, he had indeed been on kitchen detail. Alone. After conditioning all day and cleaning the kitchen for two hours that night, by the time Harry's head hit his pillow, he had fallen asleep almost instantly.

The next morning, he had been met with extreme physical training (or PT as it was commonly referred to at camp), Sonia had commented on Harry's "perfect push-up posture." It had been so perfect, in fact, that she had him demonstrate it in front of the entire group.

For the full two hours of their calisthenics.

Every once in a while, she would say, "Up-Down!" in his direction. With shaking arms, he would have to raise his body up to lock his arms, and then drop back down in a frozen push-up stance. Stubbornly, Harry had held his position, despite that he thought he was going to die right then and there. On his final push-up, his arms had given out half-way up and he had dropped. Bitch.

He had gotten his revenge, however, later on that day when he had blown her best runner out of the water in a cross-country foot race challenge. His smug smirk had earned him a second night of kitchen detail alone.

Boot camp wasn't all bad, however. Harry liked his teammates. Cedric was also on Luke's team, as well as was Harry's bunk mate. Luke, his captain, was pretty awesome. He was laid back and funny, and spent most of his time trying to build his team up with positivity rather than discipline.

They were always busy. Physical challenges. Spellwork tests. Target practices. Problem-solving. They were only a few days in, and Harry could already see they would be all over the place with their training.

***

Hermione's chat with Dumbledore had lasted until lunch time. By the time she left his office, she had gained more insight than she had anticipated. Before returning home, she had one more stop as she made her way down to the Dungeons.

She knocked on the door leading to Snape's classroom. It creaked open slowly, and Hermione saw the Potions Master sitting at his desk, scrawling on a scroll of parchment. Didn't he ever do anything other than grade?

"What do you want?" He asked, not bothering to look up.

Hermione smiled. "Hello to you too, Professor." She greeted brazenly.

Snape looked up, no doubt surprised by her visit, though he hid it well. "Miss Granger." He replied smoothly. "To what do I owe this disruption?" He asked crassly.

Hermione laughed. "I'm sorry to bother you. I was just talking to the headmaster, and thought I would come by and say `hello.'"

Snape's expression of disinterest did not change. "`Hello,'" he replied sarcastically before returning to his grading.

"`Hello?'" Hermione repeated, looking affronted. "That's all you have to say to your favorite student after a few months? No `how have you been?' or `how was your summer?'" She questioned, sitting down on the edge of the table nearest his desk. She shook her head. "Not even a `how're the kids?'"

Without looking up, her old professor snorted in derision. "You are not my favorite student. You're alive. I don't care how your summer went. And as for kids…the day Potter procreates will not only be a sad day, but also the day I hand in my resignation."

Hermione nodded. "I see you are still a miserable old bat." She commented.

Finally, he looked up. "And I see you are still a rude, insistent little know-it-all with no respect for how you speak to your superiors," the man behind his desk fired back.

"I'm no longer your student, or a student to this school. We're equals now. That must be rough for you to swallow." She bantered in return, raising her eyebrows challengingly.

Snape sighed and shook his head. "Still as annoying as ever. No longer my student, but somehow you've managed to remain to be a pain in my ass."

His remark made Hermione smile. "Well, if I'm annoying you so much, perhaps I should just cut to the chase?" She suggested nonchalantly.

"Whatever will get you to leave quicker." Snape coaxed back.

"Well, I was just wondering in you've gotten any further with Voldemort's secret plans, the ones he wouldn't tell you about a few weeks ago, perchance?" She inquired sweetly.

Whatever he had been expecting her to say, this was certainly not it. His black eyes narrowed. "I don't recall what you are talking about," he denied in a clipped tone.

Hermione hopped off the table. "Sure you do. You two had a nice chat about secret weapons, Harry's undoing and destruction, blah-blah-blah, only the `most trusted-'" she used air quotes to accentuate her point-"knew of his plans. Who is that anyway? Bellatrix Lestrange? Lucius Malfoy, maybe?" She asked lightly.

"I'd like to know where you are getting your information." Snape sneered in return.

Hermione shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, does it? So how about it then? And that's not going to work, Professor." She smirked, feeling and blocking his attempts to break into her mind. She was easily holding his at bay, which was a good sign. Experimentally, she pushed forward the scene she had witnessed in Harry's dream, attempting to let him see that and that alone.

Snape's narrowed eyes widened slightly before narrowing again. "Where did you get that?"

Hermione shook her head. "It's nothing. Just privy to a few things, and hoping to become privy to a few more." She cajoled, her eyes dancing with mirth.

The Potions Master regained his cool tone and emotionless expression. "Why?"

She chuckled. "Because I'm a nosy know-it-all. So do you have anything else on it or not?"

In response, Snape sat back in his chair, surveying her wordlessly.

Hermione sighed and lost her nonchalance. "Okay, look. I feel completely in the dark and useless. I only stumbled on that, and I still don't know much about anything. I thought that maybe if I could help piece some things together…I dunno, I'm sick of not helping." She slowly shook her head. "I don't know what else to do-and don't tell me not to worry about it because this is just as much as my war as anyone else's." Hermione retorted.

Still, Snape didn't say a word.

"Fine!" Hermione snapped angrily. "I'll figure it out myself. I don't need your help-Hell, you obviously don't know anything more than I do anyhow." She turned towards the door and mumbled under her breath loud enough for him to hear, "Wretched asshole…"

She stormed up the steps, putting distance between herself and Snape. By the time she reached the Entrance Hall, Hermione had a grin on her lips. She had already figured Snape wouldn't tell her anything-and she doubted he even knew anything anyway. He had been a test. An experiment she could count on.

And she had passed brilliantly.

***

I can't be your angel when I'm living like a devil
Can't be your lover when I'm living like a rebel
Don't want your pity and I don't want your help
Don't try and save me go take care of yourself

"Alive (N Out Of Control)" PAPA ROACH

***

Being away, Harry found finding time to be nervous and worried about how things were going back home difficult. With his busy schedule, he didn't have much time to think about anything except what he was doing at the moment. He thought about how he could cut seconds on his time or pushing himself harder. How he could better his spell casting aim. Or what fresh Hell Sonia was going to think up for him next.

He was no longer on kitchen duty alone every night. He had a sneaking suspicion Luke had something to do with that. Instead, now he was paired with whoever had the poorest performance that day. Generally, this was a bloke on his team named Gavin Claybote, and surprise-surprise, Claybote wasn't any better at washing dishes than he was at spell casting.

"I was told I'd find you out here, Potter." A voice spoke behind him, causing Harry to turn around.

He gave Cedric a half-smile. "Hey." He was currently sitting on a large boulder almost to the boundary line of the camp, looking into the twilight. Cedric took a spot beside him.

"Trying to duck Sonia?" Cedric laughed, reaching into his pocket.

Harry chuckled in the growing darkness. "Sounds about right. If she sees me, she will probably give me a thousand push-ups for breathing or something." He snorted.

Cedric chortled beside him and then offered him a cigarette. Harry stared at it for a seconds before taking it finally. However, he did not take Cedric's offered lighter. "Maybe." He said softly, unsure of whether or not he wanted to light up or not.

"Trying to quit?" Cedric asked, taking a long drag.

Harry shrugged. "Something like that."

They were quiet for a few moments. "Something on your mind, mate? Or did you just come out here to look at the stars?" Cedric questioned.

Harry shook his head. "Not really, nope. Just missing home, I guess." He admitted.

"Yeah? How did you ever survive Hogwarts, then?" His friend teased. "Can't help but feel like there's a girl involved." He added slyly.

Guilty, Harry grinned. "And you're probably right." He hadn't had much free time since boot camp had started. Missing and worrying about Hermione had dropped on his priority list during the day. Out here, away from camp and everyone, away from all the distraction, his worry came back full force. "I hate being cut off from everything going on back home." Harry confessed bitterly.

"Well, it's only been a few days, mate." Cedric reasoned sensibly.

"A lot can happen in a few days." Harry told him darkly.

Cedric fiddled with his lighter. "What's her name?"

"Hermione." Harry croaked back softly, staring at the cigarette he was twirling between his fingers, trying to ignore the itch to light it.

Cedric nodded. "Granger, right?" He asked evenly before looking over at Harry. "My dad told me about some article he saw in the paper last year `round Christmas-I think he talked to your father about it, too. I just wasn't sure if she was your girlfriend or not." Cedric hastily explained to Harry's raised eyebrows.

Satisfied with his explanation of knowing about his personal life, Harry nodded. "Yeah, Hermione Granger." He confirmed, daring Cedric to make something of it.

Instead, the older bloke shrugged, uncaring. "Cool. How does that happen?"

Trying to keep the defensive sarcasm from his voice, Harry replied, "Same way it happened with everyone else: Boy meets Girl; Girl turns Boy's life upside down. They live happily ever after." Harry said dryly, internally chuckled at the huge understatement.

"And the parents?" Cedric pressed on.

`What, was this bloke writing a damn book?' Harry thought to himself before responding shorty, "Got used to it."

"Good, I'm sure she's great." Cedric said, obviously sensing Harry's irritation and attempting to ease his tension.

Harry relaxed, realizing Cedric was just curious and not trying to be an ass. He nodded. "Yeah, she is. Really keeps me wound up."

Cedric laughed. "Normally girlfriends help you, uh, unwind." He said with a double entendre.

Harry chuckled slightly at his joke. "Well, she keeps me wound up when she's not around, I guess you could say. Makes me anxious to be away from her these days." Harry told him.

"And you don't like being away from her because…because of what happened at that Quidditch game-what, was it last month when I saw it in the Daily Prophet? With…with the Dark Mark and Death Eater attack?" Cedric's voice was low and hesitant.

Harry automatically felt his jaw flex in response. This was certainly not a conversation he was aiming to have at the moment. Instead of responding, he wordlessly held his hand out for Cedric lighter, then slowly lit the cigarette he had been playing with.

Taking his silence as a `yes,' Cedric continued, "Because you and Dumbledore…you lot think He's back, that…that You-Know-Who is back."

In answer, Harry took a long, satisfying drag from his cigarette and closed his eyes. He suddenly wished Cedric would leave. He didn't need this Hufflepuff to tell Harry things he already knew. He was worrying enough about all that without his commentary.

"So you think there's a possibility something might happen to her, that's why you're scared." He said matter-of-factly, not asking.

Hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, Harry looked over at the older bloke. "Would you like to try to guess what color of socks I'm wearing too, mate?" He asked sarcastically.

Cedric gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Probably not all what you are wanting to hear, but…I dunno, I guess I don't know who else to talk to about…about You-Know-Who. A lot of people don't believe you lot about it, you know."

Harry shrugged. "And I don't give a fuck. Not my problem." He retorted, knowing how insolent he sounded and not caring. He didn't understand why he was being so rude to Cedric, a bloke he genuinely had grown to like quite a bit. Perhaps he felt like maybe he had been using him this whole time for gossip. He wanted to tell him to take the Daily Prophet and shove it up his ass sideways.

"I think believe you." Cedric told him, causing Harry to suddenly still for a moment.

"That's your prerogative." He finally told him, still unsure if he was winding him up.

"This whole `Boy-Who-Lived' thing…I know some people think it's a little mad but…I mean, I don't see why you and Dumbledore would make it up. They say it's all about attention-seeking, and you did like to be in the spotlight at school with your mates sometimes, but…this is different. This is big." Cedric talked Harry through his mental reasoning.

Harry felt his hands shake slightly, and he didn't know why. He didn't think he was angry at Cedric-he couldn't blame the bloke for wanting to get to the truth. Maybe it was because it was reminding Harry of what other were saying about him-something he hadn't given much thought about. After Hogwarts, when the story came out, he had been so wrapped up in worrying about Hermione that he didn't care what the tabloids were saying. In Cliffinshire, he had been cut off from it all and had dove headfirst in sex, training, and relaxation. He had been distracted. His objective had been overcoming Voldemort. The `Boy-Who-Lived' story had barely crossed his mind.

Now he couldn't get Cedric to shut up about it, and the worst part was, Harry was beginning to feel guilty because he didn't think the bloke was just being nosy either-he sounded genuinely concerned.

Detecting his annoyance, Cedric stopped his musings. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to…to…I dunno. I'll just leave you alone. See you." He got up and was about to head back to their dorms when Harry stopped him.

"Wait." Harry said, sighing. "No, I'm sorry. I just…haven't really given much thought about all this, and to have it sort of thrown up in my face…I wasn't really expecting it. Sit back down." He told him, gesturing for Cedric to take his spot back.

Cedric gingerly sat back down, but remained silent.

Harry didn't know where to start. He didn't know what Cedric wanted to know, nor what he even wanted to tell him, was allowed to tell him. "Voldemort's back." Harry begin, noticing Cedric flinch at the use of his proper name and felt some sort of sick satisfaction in knowing he made him uncomfortable. "He came back just before I graduated from Hogwarts. I don't know what I can and cannot say-honestly I've spent the summer as far away from all that as I could. Hermione, Ron, Draco and I were pretty well on vacation for a month and a half, I guess you could say. Spent our time at Sirius's beach house. Everything was going great-training, surfing, video games, and all that. For my birthday, Hermione got me tickets to that Quidditch match. Brilliant game." He reminisced, stretching back so he was now leaning against the tree the boulder was in front of. He flicked his ashes before he drew his cigarette to his lips.

"As we walked back to where people were camping, we realized people were screaming." Harry said, replaying in his mind the events that had happened that night. "Death Eaters were levitating the Muggle family that owned the campsite. They were looking for me." He said quietly. "Stupidly, I went out there. Thought it was the best option before anyone got hurt. I'd been training." Harry was silent for a beat. "But not hard enough, apparently. We all made it out alive, however. Got Voldemort's message though-he was saving me for a later time. I, uh, hadn't `suffered enough' yet. But I hadn't been forgotten. I'd pay for not dying when I was a baby. I'd pay for…for being the `Boy-Who-Lived' or whatever…" Harry's voice trailed off.

Cedric's face was unreadable. He listened to Harry's words, taking them in without hesitation. "So now what?" He finally croaked.

Harry stared out at the stars without replying for a few seconds before sighing. "That's really all I know at the moment. A storm's coming. He's…he's pissed. He has a plan, I think, but I dunno what it is. It's…it's going to get difficult. A lot of people…well, getting others to believe, without actual proof…it's rough. That's how he wants to play. He's not ready to come out in the open. And all the while, he's getting stronger. Building an army. If the Wizarding World doesn't get their heads out of theirs asses soon, it's going to be too late." Harry predicted with certainty.

Slowly, Cedric nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah…talking about it with my mates, or my father or whatever…I dunno, you make it sound so much more…serious, you know?"

Harry shrugged. "It is serious. I didn't want to take it seriously. Not yet. I thought we had time. More time to figure this all out. But we don't. After I found out about what had happened when I was a baby-it was just after Christmas-Dumbledore…he said He would come back. I never thought I'd be facing his return by the end of my school year. Never imagined I'd have a run-in with Death Eaters just after by birthday. Everything just…just completely escalated. Hermione almost died before we graduated, Cedric. She almost died. Attacked by that vile Slytherin Jonathan Avery, who was working for Voldemort. Don't ask me how, but somehow they hooked up." Harry told his friend, finding it hard to actually stop talking now. "He…he came into her dorm, with a knife…she lost so much blood." Harry's voice was monotone. "She had to fight for her life. She didn't come-to for almost two days. The waiting was…terrifying." Harry recalled with goosebumps.

Cedric let out a low whistle. "Avery? Really? I don't know if I should be surprised or not." He said, completely shocked by the news. "How did I not read about that in the Prophet?!"

"Must have missed that one." Harry told him, forcing a half-smile.

"Must have." Cedric agreed, shaking his head. "Is that why you're so worried? You think something like that might happen again?" He asked slowly.

Harry was silent for a moment before giving a noncommittal shrug. "I…more of the chance, not that I think anything will happen. There are contingencies in place. Anything happens, I'm obviously supposed to be alerted at once-rules be damned. She's going on vacation with her family. She's said she is going to have Dumbledore send someone to check in on her and her family, just to be sure everything is okay. Helps with my worry." Hermione had told him the night before he left that she had been planning on talking to the headmaster about her trip, and about having someone check in on them. It saved him from having to go behind her back and asking Sirius to do it.

A silence fell over them-too long of a silence. Cedric had grown awfully quiet all of a sudden. Harry glanced over at him and saw him look down at the ground uncomfortably. "What's on your mind?" He questioned him.

Cedric looked up. "I was just thinking…with everything that just suddenly seemed to happen, to fall into place…I mean, it has to cross one's mind, even for the smallest nanosecond in history," He said quickly, "I mean…actually, nothing. Never mind. Forget it." He decided.

His curiosity piqued, Harry pressed him to continue. "What? What has to cross my mind?"

Looking more uncomfortable than ever, Cedric dawdled with his words. "I'm just saying-not that I believe it or anyone else or anything, mind you," He clarified with his hands in front of his as a gesture of surrender, "I'm only wondering…with a…with Hermione's family being absent front the Wizarding World all this time save when You-Know-Who was around…I mean…she comes on scene…becomes chummy with the most unlikely person imaginable at Hogwarts, they get together…You-Know-Who suddenly crops up out of nowhere…" He trailed off, losing steam as Harry's expression harden with each word.

It was enough for Harry to piece together his suggestion. "I should hit you for that, you know." He said, his voice low. "Hermione isn't with Voldemort. She is very much on our side-my side-against Voldemort. She's been through her own pain." Harry said shortly, the very idea Cedric was suggesting making him angry.

Cedric held his hands up in submission again, "I know, mate, I….I was just thinking out loud. Shouldn't have said anything. It's stupid, right? I mean, you lot know this girl a helluva whole lot more than I do, I'm…I'm just trying to look at it from all angles. Not being involved and all…I guess it just makes more sense to me than it would to any of you lot, right?" He tried to reason, smoothing over his former words.

A small part of Harry understood Cedric's thoughts. Someone that didn't know Hermione, and saw it purely from a facts standpoint, might think such.

But they'd be wrong. So wrong.

He gave Cedric a death glare and said menacingly, "I get that. Now. Don't. Say. Anything. Like. That. Again. Ever." Harry warned, his tone threatening.

Cedric nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offense, I swear." He promised solemnly.

Feeling the sudden urge to prove Hermione's loyalty, Harry narrowed his eyes and said quietly, "She had been bullied, teased, hated at Hogwarts-by almost everyone, by…by me…" Harry admitted guiltily. "But she's compassionate. She gave me a chance to change. And those people that were so horrible to her? Those are the same people she is fighting to protect." He told him heatedly, remembering idle conversations over the summer in his bed with limbs tangled up every which way, discussing the fate of the Wizarding World. How she forgave their ignorance. Forgiveness they didn't deserve.

Harry shook his head, "I don't know her role in all this. I don't even know mine. But…she scares me, I know that. What I'm constantly fearing is Hermione herself. Always trying to fix things. Always taking things on herself. Always keeping her burdens to herself." He spat each word venomously. "Frankly, she scares the hell out of me. Last year, she was tortured with these night terrors-horrible, they were. But she kept silent. Never talked to anyone about them. Once I finally found out about them, she told me sometimes she was terrified to go to sleep because she feared what she would see. How scared she would be of herself." Harry shivered at the memory.

He didn't know why he didn't stop there, maybe it was because he found it hard to shut his mouth, or maybe because he hadn't talked about it since it happened-not even to Ron or Draco. It had him too angry, too humiliated that he couldn't stop it. His voice barely audible now, he continued, "I'm worried about something happening to her; I'm more worried about her happening to herself. The Quidditch match…" He began, stomach churning just remembering her screams. "I was being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange…and Hermione…Hermione was hiding in a tree just above us, where I told her to stay-against her will, of course. Ron and Draco were there to protect her. But Hermione…she can't listen. She can't just…just stay out of it. She's so stubborn." His words were turning angry. He felt his chest tighten as he watched in his mind's eye as the scene unfolded before him. "She jumped down…onto Bellatrix's shoulders to stop her torturing me with the Cruciatus Curse. That bitch, she turned her wand on Hermione, and I had to sit there and watch as she tortured her. It lasted…only seconds before everyone intervened but those few seconds…" Harry shook his head and finally looked up to meet Cedric's shocked expression. "I've only felt that helpless one other time, when Avery attacked her."

Unsure of why he shared so much, why he opened up so much pain and anger in himself, Harry hung his head. "You don't know her like I do. She's…not with him, at all, ever. There's too much good in her. Too much instinct, like that, to take that sort of pain because they can't bear to watch someone they love take it. It scares me. I'd do the same in a heartbeat, don't get me wrong. But with her, it's different. I don't want her to do that sort of thing. That's my job." He said with conviction.

Cedric ran a hand through his hair. "Looking at you, being around you all day…I'd never guess you had all this…all this stewing inside." He admitted, not sure what to say.

"When we're busy, and I'm distracted, it's not as bad. Now," Harry said, gesturing to the quiet surrounding them, "Here…I'm worried. Worried about what might happen while I'm gone. Worried about something might happen, and what she might take on herself to do. Maybe take that curse for Ron next time, or Draco. Or her parents. Maybe…maybe something worse. The only reason I'm not covering her like her own personal shadow is because she swore she would never do anything like that ever again. Her oath…that's about the only thing that lets me sleep at night."

***

Looking back at the beginning of this
And how life was
Just you and me loving all of our friends
Living life like an ocean
But now the current's only pulling me down
It's getting harder too breath
It won't be to long and I will be going under
Can you save me from this?

`Cause it's not my time I'm not going
There's a fear in me it's not showing
This could be the end of me
And everything I know
Oh but I won't go

"It's Not My Time" 3 DOORS DOWN

***

Hermione stood alone in her empty house, feeling lost for the first time in all this.

But she didn't have time to feel lost, she reminded herself. She needed to go. Precious seconds were ticking by. Hermione glanced over at her closet where she kept a small extra bookshelf. All her favorites, while the rest sat out in her large bookshelf in her bedroom. Now, her favorite bookshelf housed so much more than just great stories-it housed her favorite memories as well.

Hermione slowly eased out of bed. The hour was late-or would three a.m. be considered early? Either way, Hermione was still awake despite knowing she needed to get some sleep. The next day would be a long one. She needed her rest.

But she had to do something else first. It had to be done. She couldn't risk it. She reached into her school trunk and pulled out a large, round, voluptuous vase-like container with a stopper in the top. She slowly pulled the cork out and started into the empty glass. Hermione closed her eyes, and turned her focus to her thoughts. Thoughts of him. "Harry." She breathed aloud, her voice nothing more of a whisper. She pressed the end of her wand to her left temple. Memories flooded her thoughts. Some good. Some bad. Cliffenshire. Hogwarts. Their fight. Quidditch matches. Broom rides. Hogsmeade. Christmas. She kept pushing her thoughts farther and farther back. Their awkward friendship. Detention together. Her first day in Potions. The Ministry. Hand shaking, she pulled her wand away, gasping slightly. She was reminded of that day so long ago in Dumbledore's office where he revisited her memory of Harry and herself exchanging Christmas gifts. A thick silvery strand stretched from her temple, and she guided it to the mouth of her bottle. She watched as the gas-like substance-or was it a liquid?-swirled around in the glass. She didn't break the connection and watched as the bottle continued to fill. A montage of memories played before her eyes before vanishing quickly. After a few minutes, the strand thinned before breaking entirely. She quickly replaced the stopper.

Through the glass, she could make out a face in the midst of the liquid-gas. His face. Black hair. Green eyes. Scar on his forehead. Her favorite smile. She tried to recall her memories of it, but it was difficult. It was comparable to trying to catch a dream just out of reach. Smokey, clouded images stirred in her mind. She could remember everything, but the details weren't there. She couldn't remember how green his eyes were. How white that unicorn had been around Christmas. The warmth of his hand in hers. All of those details escaped her.

Pursing her lips together, she sealed the bottle before shrinking down to the size of a small vial. Hermione walked over to her closet where she kept her private bookshelf. Personal favorites. Guilty pleasure titles stared back at her. She reached forward and picked up her worn version of The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett. A favorite book as a child. She had read it countless times. The idea of some place special, hidden, just waiting to be explored…it had reminded her of Hogwarts when she had been forbidden to go. Hermione slowly thumbed through the old novel before stopping somewhere in the middle. With her wand, she cut out a large chunk, making just enough room for the vial in her hand. She placed the vial inside, stared at it for a few seconds before closing it. Hermione replaced it on the shelf, her hidden treasure. A lone tear journeyed down her cheek.

This wasn't a time for reminiscing. There was no second-guessing. What was done was done. She was committed. She picked up a notebook from her desk-the last item she needed to put into her bag. The notebook that knew of her plans in great detail, knew every outcome she had been preparing for. She didn't need to look through it to know what it said-she had done that dozens of times every day for weeks now.

Hermione silently climbed back into her bed, absentmindedly scratching Crookshanks behind his ears as he purred contently. Using the light from her lamp, Hermione sighed and pulled out her notebook, flipping through its pages until she found a page ripped from a book with the face of Bellatrix Lestrange staring up at her. Words from her description of the witch jumped out at her from the page: Death Eater. Dangerous. Voldemort's Number Two. Ruthless. Murderer. Life sentence in Azkaban. Escapee.

She continued through the book, already knowing what each page would tell her. VOLDEMORT'S PAST. Real name Tom Marvolo Riddle-named after his father and grandfather. Born December 31, 1926. Born at Wool's Orphanage and resided there until the age of seven before taken in by an eccentric great-aunt. Half-blood. Son of Muggle father Tom Riddle, Senior and pureblood mother Merope Gaunt. Merope's mother was a Granger. She had ran away with a love-potion-induced Tom Riddle when she was eighteen, and her husband left her soon after she had been impregnated. Died soon after giving birth to Tom Riddle. Father lived in a manor in Little Hangleton; mother just outside the village in a shack.

Went to Hogwarts. Ideal student to all the professors. Was pitied. Graduated with top marks. First job at Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley. Asked for a job at Hogwarts-Defense Against the Dark Arts. Dumbledore turned him down. Fell out of touch with Wizarding World for a while. Returned as `Lord Voldemort.'

Hermione turned the page, and saw a category: VOLDEMORT'S REIGN. The details continued. Allies and enemies. Strategies used in the past. The prophecy. Any history she could find, she wrote it down. Perhaps the smallest detail could help. Another few pages, and there was Avery. Important business at Borgin and Burke soon. Avery himself, not important. Just a tool for Voldemort to wield to his whim. She didn't know how useful he would be. She couldn't stake out Borgin and Burkes for a week in a half, hoping to see him.

She would start with the orphanage. Maybe they had an address for his great-aunt. Not much was known about the woman. Dumbledore had said she was somewhat of a recluse. Untraceable, more or less. Possibly dead. Hermione didn't know what she could find, but she felt she should start at his beginning. Little Hangleton in northern England would next. It seemed futile, and she didn't expect to find much. It would be a short visit. Perhaps to the manor, then the shack.

Hermione would also keep an eye on Knockturn Alley as well. With any luck, she might be there at the perfect time.

She continued to look through her notes, going over the outline of her plan. Find Voldemort's hideout. Infiltrate his inner circle, impersonating one Bellatrix Lestrange. She had enough Polyjuice Potion to last for two weeks, and she only had a week and a half. If Harry returned, and she wasn't back yet…she knew he would ruin everything.

She had to ask the right questions. Plant the right ideas in the event that things went…erroneously. Use her knowledge to her advantage. Find out the plans Snape couldn't. It would be dangerous, difficult, and delicate. She had to plan everything just right.

Merlin help her.

Hermione cast one last look around her room, took a steady breath, and Disapparated.

***

I was a little girl
Alone in my little world
Who dreamed of a little home for me.
I played pretend between the trees,
And fed my houseguests bark and leaves,
And laughed in my pretty bed of green.

I had a dream
That I could fly
From the highest swing.
I had a dream.

"Dream" PRISCILLA AHN

Well, what did you think? I'm going to bed, and it would be awesome to have some reviews to wake up to *hint hint* haha. Well, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you next time!

*~Archie~*

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