First of all, I would like to apologize for the long wait and hope you all are not too ofended. I must also say that I'm having a lot of trouble with ch. 11, I'm working on a monthly challenge, and school starts soon, so I don't know when I can update next. You have been warned.
Next, this is the last chapter of Part 1 and you'll understand why at the end of it. I want to thank all of you who have made it this far. Hopefully you'll stick around for Part 2.
Now having bored all of you to death, without further ado, here it is.
As usual, many thanks to my wonderful Beta, Orlaith!
Chapter 10: Dreams
He was in a dimly lit room looking down at a man cowering on the floor. All around him there were portraits of old looking people, but they weren’t moving. A nice, but worn out carpet on the floor and a couple of moth-eaten couches were the only other things in the room. It looked like it would have been a nice room to quietly read or write, except for the fact that there were lit torches, emitting a cold, almost colourless flame, running all along the walls. There was a certain unwelcoming feeling to it. A cold voice filled the room as he spoke.
“Very well, Lucius, very well done. The Dark Lord is very pleased with you,”
The blond man on the floor spoke, sounding proud of himself.
“Thank you, master,”
The Dark Lord twirled his wand about with his long, white fingers.
“Thanks to you, we are one step closer to breaking into Hogwarts School and taking care of that old fool. And the boy, of course. I believe I could have managed it sooner if the circumstance had been … different. Shame we never found out what that prophecy said.”
Lucius Malfoy’s eyes widened in fear. Anytime his master would speak about the prophecy, it was only a matter of time before the Cruciatus Curse came out of his lips.
“Very well,” the Dark Lord spoke again. “Send Bella to me. I must tell her how to proceed next. And Lucius? The Dark Lord knows how to repay favours. Your reward will come very soon.”
Lucius walked out of the room smiling slightly, leaving Voldemort muttering to himself.
“Yes. It won’t be long. The end of the school is near.”
“AARGGGHHHHHHHHHH!”
Harry Potter fell from his bed, clutching his scar, screaming and writhing in pain. It was pain beyond anything he’d ever felt after dreams like this. He didn’t know where he was, what he was doing, who was so desperately trying to speak to him. It felt almost like he was being possessed by Voldemort once again. He couldn’t take it … he wouldn’t be able to calm down. Not only his scar, his whole body was in pain. Hot knives were cutting into him from every direction. Even the Cruciatus Curse was nothing compared to this agony.
Suddenly he heard, as if in a dream, a voice talking, begging, and pleading him to listen to her.
“Harry, Harry please, calm down,” the voice was saying. “Please, Harry, please, we’re right here. You’re at Hogwarts. You’re safe. I’m right here, Harry, please …”
With a tremendous effort, Harry opened his eyes. There was a girl bending down over him, tears in her eyes and a young man right behind her. Harry stopped screaming as the pain diminished and he looked up at the pair of them, panting. His eyes were watery as he looked at the girl, who was now trying to pull him up off the floor and into a sitting position. He knew who the girl, looking at him with such concern written in her eyes was, and yet he didn’t know how. Then as he looked into her chocolaty-brown eyes, something clicked into place.
“Hermione!” he said, immediately jumping to his feet.
“Yes, Harry, it’s me. What’s wrong? Was it another vision?” she asked, her voice soothing, trying to pull him back down on his bed.
Harry nodded wildly, hesitantly sinking on his bed.
“Yes, he … he … I.” He was finding it very hard to form proper sentences.
“It’s ok, Harry. Voldemort is far away. He can’t hurt you. We’re here at Hogwarts. We’re safe,” Hermione said again, trying to calm herself as much as Harry.
“I … no … we’re not safe. We’re”” he stuttered.
“Harry, of course we’re safe. It was a dream. We’re right here Harry, right here,” Hermione said tenderly, pushing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes.
“It’s alright, mate. Really,” Ron said in a trembling voice. He’d always hated how torn up Harry would become after every dream of Voldemort.
“I have to go to Dumbledore,” Harry said standing up and making for the door. “It’s too important. He … no one is safe.”
“Wait, Harry. You can’t go alone. I’m coming with you,” Hermione said, her voice sounding clear and strong, even though she was preoccupied at what Harry had said. No one is safe?
Harry nodded again. The fact that Hermione was coming with him meant the world to him. Hermione turned back to Ron, told him not to worry, and walked after Harry, who had apparently taken the corridor at a run.
He had not calmed down, she could tell. He was walking fast in front of her, clutching his scar, oblivious to the many stares that followed them. It hurt Hermione to see him this way. To see him so vulnerable and know that there was nothing she could do to ease his pain away.
Looking at the back of Harry’s head she got lost into her own thoughts. She had been half asleep when screams from the boys’ dormitories had woken her. She’d recognized the screams immediately, and had run to Harry as fast as she could. She held back tears as she remembered the lost way Harry had looked at her, as if he didn’t know who she was. That moment had proved to be almost more than she could handle. She wanted to tell him that she was there for him in every way possible and ease some of his pain away, but this was neither the time, nor the place to do it.
They had reached the gargoyle flanking Dumbledore’s office door.
“Sugar Quills,” Harry said and ran up the moving staircase.
Without pausing to knock, he walked into Dumbledore’s office and before Hermione had even managed to get inside, Harry had begun telling the Headmaster his dream.
“… and he said he was closer to breaking into Hogwarts… and then he told Malfoy to send Bellatrix to him … and that he’d be rewarded because … because he helped Voldemort and then … then … he said that the … end of Hogwarts was near,” Harry finished, all the while pacing back and forth in front of Dumbledore’s desk.
Hermione watched Harry, as fear poured through her. Could it be possible? Could Voldemort really have found a way in? After all, Dumbledore had made it nearly impossible to even get close to the school.
Dumbledore surveyed Harry closely over his half-moon spectacles. He didn’t seem surprised at Harry’s words, simply depressed.
“How do we know it wasn’t a trick?” Harry asked, his hand still flattening his scar.
“Alas, Harry, if it was only a trick. Unfortunately, the Order has known that Voldemort was planning to gain access to the school, but we didn’t know that he could manage it this soon. We are trying our best to keep him away, but he is stronger now than he has ever been before. However, nothing is over until it’s over. We mustn’t give up hope. However, there is something else of importance. How did this … vision affect you, Harry? Was it worse than all others?”
“Well, sir, it was pretty horrible … but I don’t think it was wors””
But Harry wasn’t able to finish his sentence, because he collapsed on his knees right in front of them, hands pressed against his scar and yelling worse than he had after he’d woken up. Dumbledore made to go to Harry, but Hermione beat him to it. She kneeled down in front of Harry, placing her hands on his arms and tried to talk to him. Over and over, she told Harry that it was fine, that it would all be over soon, that she was there with him, unsure of whether he could hear her.
Dumbledore came up behind them and looked at Harry carefully, wishing just like Hermione, that there was something he could do to help him through his pain. After those minutes of pure agony, Harry finally stopped yelling, and lay quietly, Hermione’s arms still around him.
Dumbledore and Hermione gently helped him on his feet and he swayed ominously.
“This is what I was afraid of,” he sighed. “I knew that the effects would be much stronger, because it is harder to penetrate one’s mind after Occlumency lessons. How do you feel Harry?”
Harry said nothing, but wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. After a few moments he spoke.
“I’m fine, sir,” he said breathing deeply.
“Very well. Now, if you are feeling better, I would kindly ask you to go back to Gryffindor Tower, because I have a matter of great urgency to deal with. Everything will be taken care of, Harry. I ask you not to worry. If something comes up that you need to know, I will tell you.”
Dumbledore spoke calmly, leading the two out of his office. “I believe you all need to rest tonight.”
***
“But how is it possible?” Ron asked, his mouth wide open.
“Oh Ron, there must be a way in, of course there must be. Voldemort probably knows all of the old and complex spells, and even with Dumbledore’s protection we’re just not completely safe anymore.”
Hermione sighed, hands crossed and eyes unfocused.
“I bet that’s why he wanted to do that search of the castle in October!” Ron said, looking at both Harry and Hermione expectantly. “He probably wanted to make sure that everything was safe and that nothing was wrong!”
“Yes, you’re probably right. It’s not going to do us any good though,” Hermione sighed, still looking at the fire with unfocused eyes.
Ron, who had expected a bit more enthusiasm from both his friends about his ‘discovery’, looked at Hermione indignantly out of the corner of his eyes.
“Yeah, but still. You can’t tell me Dumbledore can’t do anything about it. He was the only one You-Know-Who ever feared,” Ron insisted.
“But Ron, Voldemort is stronger now. He’s gaining power, more power than ever. And Dumbledore’s not getting any stronger, just … well … just older. There’s only one solution to all this””
She cut herself off in time, but Harry wasn’t listening to her. Five words kept repeating in themselves in his head …
…and the boy of course …
“Harry,” Hermione said, looking at beadily. “Are you keeping something from us? You didn’t say whether Voldemort mentioned you while talking to Malfoy. That’s what you’re hiding, isn’t it?”
Harry looked up at her, surprised. Truthfully, he hadn’t been trying to keep it away from them, just hadn’t wanted to discuss it with anyone. This really did amount to the same thing.
God, why does she have to know me so well, he thought.
“Yeah, well, the usual. You know, how he wants to kill me and everything,” he said bitterly.
That left both Ron and Hermione lost for words.
“I reckon we’ve got to stop worrying about it,” Harry said in a resigned sort of voice. “It’ll happen some day””
“Harry, don’t you dare say that!” Hermione said in a clear and strong voice, but her eyes were becoming glassy. “I will not have you feeling sorry for yourself!”
Harry simply looked at her. He felt tired and empty. He didn’t feel sorry for himself. He didn’t feel anything anymore.
“Yeah, Harry … You can’t say stuff like that …” But words failed Ron. He’d never been much good at this comforting kind of thing. “Well, I’m off to bed,” he said after awhile, getting up and yawning. “Hang in there, mate.”
After Ron had gone, Hermione got up and took his place on the couch, next to Harry.
“Are you sure you’re ok, Harry?” she asked timidly, not wanting to anger him.
Ok? No, he was not okay. But what could he possibly tell her? That he didn’t want to die? That he didn’t want her to die? That he just wanted all of this to be over? She knew all of this already. She knew exactly what he was feeling, she knew everything about him, and she knew that he would never be okay. Even if all this did end.
Looking at her eyes full of concern and thinking about everything she meant to him, Harry realized he’d been wrong. He didn’t feel empty”he felt love. He never had stopped loving her”he’d just tried to lock his love away. He didn’t even know why he was thinking about this. It had been over a month since he’d let himself think about Hermione in that way. Now, with the threat of Voldemort growing ever so close, and the vision still fresh in his mind, he found that he needed comfort. Comfort he could only find in her arms. He became conscious of the fact that he hadn’t answered her question.
“Yeah, I’m ok,” he responded.
Unconsciously, Hermione moved closer to Harry and let a sigh escape her lips. What a funny situation they were in. There was the world’s greatest villain to worry about and yet she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was much, much easier just to think about the boy sitting next to her.
She felt she needed to comfort Harry. She needed to tell him that it was all going to be okay, that he didn’t have to worry about anything, that she was going to help him every step of the way. But she couldn’t find the right words. Only silence between them. She loved silence. Silence didn’t hurt anyone, you could say so much without speaking a single word. She moved still closer to Harry until their bodies were touching.
Harry honestly didn’t know what to do or what to think anymore. His scar still burned and the thought of Voldemort still haunted his mind, and yet Hermione was so close to him; he found all his worries ebbing away. It was quite distracting.
“Hermione?” he asked, looking down at her.
Hermione raised her head, brown eyes meeting green, and her heart skipped a beat. She could look into his eyes forever and never feel alone … or lost.
“I’m sorry, Harry. I don’t know why I haven’t realized it before. I’ve been foolish. And I’ve … Please, tell me it’s not too late…” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
She didn’t say what she wanted to into words, but Harry understood. She reached up and slowly pushed his bangs out of his eyes. She didn’t know what pushed her to do it, but she was leaning closer and closer to Harry, until she felt his breath on her lips, and instantly wondered why it had taken her so long to figure out Harry was the one she wanted.
But all the thoughts of the past were meaningless.
All that mattered were Harry’s hands around her waist, his lips on hers as he kissed her softly.
All that mattered was that Hermione was finally there with him, kissing him back gently, and he wondered if it was all a dream.