Chapter 7 Desperate Problems
Hermione snickered and turned red as she wrote Whore Crosser on her parchment.
“Sorry,” she said when Harry looked at her.
“Where is this weapon hidden?” Harry asked Shunpike.
“It’s in a cave beneath a crypt in the catacombs of Kensal Green Cemetery. That’s in London,” Shunpike said.
“What crypt?”
“The name was… just a minute…” Stan screwed up his face in concentration, “Stubbs, Billy Stubbs it was.”
“How’s it guarded?”
“There’s a long crawl through a low cave, there’s Inferi and…” Shunpike lowered his voice to the barest of whispers, “and there’s a dragon.”
“What does the weapon do?” Harry asked.
“Don’t rightly know,” Shunpike shrugged, “but they say it’s the secret to ‘is immortality.”
“Whore Crosser?” Hermione said with a cynical giggle. “Sounds like a device that’s used to cheat a working girl out of her five galleons.”
Shunpike looked very serious, as if his brain was slowly working through the idea. Harry was stunned to learn that Hermione knew the going rate for prostitutes in Knockturn Alley.
“Maybe frequent sex with loose women helps keep the Dark Lord young,” Hermione suggested in a whisper.
“I’ll bet you’re right,” Shunpike nodded thoughtfully. “It costs eight for a cutie like you. Adds up quick it does.”
“Look Shunpike,” Hermione said in a suddenly stern and bossy tone. “This is serious. We don’t care about his sex toys. We need to know who’s working with him and what sorts of magical creatures he has for allies.”
Shunpike was taken aback and he looked a bit nervous.
“Well… uh,” Shunpike stammered, “’e’s got a dragon.”
“Yes, you’ve told us,” Hermione snapped. “It keeps his sex safe. How many dragons does he have? Just the one?”
“I’ve ‘eard ‘e’s got a couple of others,” Shunpike ventured.
Hermione looked at Harry and said, “Charlie.”
“Dragons are no problem,” Harry said. “What else has he got? Besides Inferi.”
“He’s got a giant,” Shunpike said with confidence.
“We know about the giant. We’ve got one too,” Hermione said. “You’ve got to do better than that, Shunpike.”
Poor Stanley’s confidence was completely shot. “I ‘eard of other things too,” he said defensively.
“What things?” Hermione demanded sharply.
Shunpike sat in stunned silence.
“Heliopaths?” Hermione suggested in a whisper.
“Yeah,” Shunpike said in a shifty eyed way. “Start fires they do. The Inferi don’t like ‘em.”
“Did he get them from Fudge’s privet army?” Hermione prodded him.
“The Dark Lord took Fudge’s Heliopaths away from ‘im, just like ‘e did with the Dementors,” Stan said confidently.
“The Heliopaths could cause problems,” Hermione said to Harry in a funny tone as she turned her face away from Shunpike to hide her smile.
“Tell us everything Stan,” Harry said grimly.
For the next half hour Stan Shunpike told them of all sorts of horrible creatures that were being gathered by Lord Voldemort. Everything from Acromantulas to Zombies with Crumple Horned Snorkacks in between. It was clear that Stan Shunpike was a regular reader and a true believer of The Quibbler.
As the guard escorted Shunpike out of the interview room, Percy asked, “Did he tell you anything of value?”
“Just a lot of nonsense,” Harry said. “Nargles, Rotfang, Snorkacks…”
“What shall we do with him?” Percy asked.
“I don’t trust him. He told us lies,” Hermione said. “I think he was trying to get Harry to go off on a series of wild goose chases. Maybe he wants Harry to waste his time but maybe he wants to send Harry to a trap. He might even be a Death Eater, albeit an idiot.”
One fact that was absolutely clear in Harry’s mind was that he did not want Lord Voldemort to learn that he was searching for the Horcruxes. Lord Voldemort must not learn that Stan Shunpike had told Harry Potter about a Whore crosser hidden at Kensal Green Cemetery. They couldn’t let him go now.
“Hold him,” Harry said.
“You shouldn’t put him back with the other prisoners,” Hermione suggested.
“Keep him in solitary confinement,” Harry said.
“Lock him up?” Percy said in surprise.
“and throw away the key,” Harry finished.
Harry and Hermione apparated behind the old broom shed. They could hear the music from the band at the wedding party.
“Ron didn’t need to know about the Horcrux in your house Harry,” Hermione whispered. “But are you going to tell him about the one in the crypt?”
Harry knew what she was getting at. It was leading up to: Don’t go into that crypt alone!
“Yeah,” Harry lied. “I’ll tell Ron about it. He and I will plan the mission. I don’t want my secret keeper getting captured. You were a big help tonight, Hermione.”
Harry walked away from her and towards the dessert table where Ron was standing with a piece of cake. Hermione stood tottering in the shadow of the broom shed for a few moments then she moved towards the house and started walking very fast.
“Any of the good stuff left?” Harry asked his friend by the dessert table.
“Just cake, all of that chocolate stuff is gone,” Ron said rather coldly. “What’s with Hermione? She looks upset.”
“Oh?” Harry said in surprise.
“Where have you two been?” Ron asked.
“Azkaban,” Harry said.
“Really?” Ron exclaimed. “I’ve never heard it put that way. Didn’t go so well, huh?”
“Huh?” Harry grunted. “No.”
“She’s hard to figure out,” Ron noted, “a real cold fish.”
“You should go back to Hogwarts this term,” Harry said. “You’ll be the Gryffindor Quidditch captain for sure. You can try for the pros again next year.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Ron said. “I’ll need to find two new chasers and a seeker, unless you come back too. Hermione will go back, won’t she?”
-------------------------------
Two nights later in an affluent suburb of London, the midnight quiet was disrupted by a loud cracking noise, like the snap of a whip or the pop of a small caliber gun. A dog began barking next door. A light that was activated by a motion sensor went on in the garden of a nice home. Harry heard the sound of a sliding door opening on the deck.
“Daddy,” a girl said. “Don’t do it! Be careful!”
Harry saw a man approaching him. He had difficulty focusing his eyes. His peripheral vision was fading to black. His knees buckled. He fought through his dizziness, struggling to look up at the man.
“Harry?” the man said.
It was Mr. Granger. Harry felt his wand slip from his fingers. The ground came up fast.
---------------------------------
Something went thump on the bed and Harry woke up. He cracked his eyes open trying to not move. Every muscle in his body ached. Hedwig sat at the foot of the bed.
“Hi girl,” Harry said weakly, trying to smile.
He looked around the room. What was this place? It looked like a girl’s bedroom. Where were his glasses? He ventured to turn his head. There was a nightstand beside the bed that held a large white alarm clock with brass numbers and bells. It was a little past nine. From the sun he guessed it was nine AM. There was a white telephone next to the clock and a book and… his glasses! He reached out an aching arm and retrieved them.
Now he could see much more clearly. The book was The Healer’s Helpmate. There were stuffed animals lined up neatly on a shelf. There was a nice wardrobe, white with gold trim and a matching dresser. The footboard of the bed matched the wardrobe too. There were awards of some sort neatly framed. A Hogwarts Prefect badge hung next to them. This must be Hermione’s bed. There were pictures. A very young Hermione stood smiling in a yellow summer dress, the grass was green but strangely, she had snow in her hair. Another showed Hermione with her parents in front of the Eiffel Tower. There were several pictures of Harry Potter.
Hedwig hopped towards him. She had a letter tied to her leg. Harry took it.
Dear Hermione,
Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.
I have no idea what you are talking about.
I haven’t been to any cemetery since Godric’s Hollow.
I have not heard from Harry in several days. Is he alright?
How did you get Hedwig to bring me your letter?
Why on Earth did you address your letter:
“To Ron Weasley or His Parents”?
Did you think I might be dead?
Ron
The door opened and Hermione came in with a tray. She was trying very hard to be quiet and seemed surprised to see him awake.
“You’re awake!” She said needlessly. Her face broke into a smile of relief as she sat the tray on the edge of the bed and gave Harry a hug. His face was pressed to her breasts as she kissed him on the top of his head.
“Hermione?” Harry exclaimed in surprise.
She quickly let go of him and stood back.
“I’m sorry Harry,” she said. She was smiling but her eyes looked like she might cry. “You gave us a bit of a scare.”
She took the lid off of a plate that was on her tray. If that was breakfast, Harry’s appetite was totally gone.
“What’s that? It smells awful,” he asked.
“It’s cat food,” Hermione said placing the plate near an excited Hedwig. “She seems to like it. I’ve got some tea for you, with cream and sugar, and some more broth. Would you like something more substantial? We’ve got bacon and eggs or waffles or toast, whatever you want.”
Foggy memories came back to Harry. “Have you been spoon feeding me?” he asked.
“I imagine you’re tired of broth,” she said sympathetically. “But you lost so much blood I thought it wise to push fluids into you.”
“I don’t feel up to bacon and eggs,” Harry admitted. “But I think I could drink the broth from a cup and maybe eat some toast.”
She conjured a cup, poured the broth into it and helped him hold it as he took a drink. He needed her hand to help hold the cup, his own hands were still too shaky.
“Rest a minute,” she said to his relief. “I’ll get your toast.”
She placed the cup of broth on the tray and practically dashed out of the bedroom.
Harry realized he was wearing pajamas. They had taken off his filthy, blood stained clothing. That meant Hermione would know that he had failed. He had returned beaten, bloody, exhausted and empty handed. The Horcrux was still in the crypt.
She returned a few minutes later with warm toast, butter and jam. She helped him to eat his breakfast by spreading the butter and jam for him and holding his cup of tea and broth. He was so weak.
“How long have I been here?” he asked.
“Two days, three nights,” she replied.
She picked up Ron’s letter and silently read it.
“I thought so,” she said with a sigh. “I knew you would go alone. Still, it’s good to be certain.”
“Hermione, I didn’t want anyone else to be in danger,” Harry explained.
“I know Harry,” she said softly.
“I didn’t get it,” Harry admitted.
“Poor Harry,” Hermione said taking his hand in hers.
“I was a bloody mess, wasn’t I?” he said with a little smile. “Have you been practicing healing spells on me?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I bought a copy of The Healer’s Helpmate on the day after the wedding. I had a day and a half to study it before you arrived.”
Hermione was always studying. Harry had never worked as hard on his class work as she did. Harry had not taken as many classes as she had. That thought made him sick.
“Are you alright Harry?” she asked in concern.
“Just tired,” he lied.
“It was smart that you came here,” Hermione said. “You’ve been delirious, talking.”
“What did I say?” he asked.
“You said the word Horcrux several times,” she reported. “As beaten up as you were, you were still clever enough to reject going to St. Mungo’s. I’m proud of you.”
“I failed, Hermione,” he said sinking into the bed. “I failed.”
“Rest Harry,” Hermione said gently. “When you’ve recovered… you’ll try again.”
She turned her head. Then she gathered up the dishes, rather clumsily, as if she couldn’t see them, and she took the tray out of the room.
Harry closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He was in Hermione’s bed. She was his best friend. And she was a bookworm. It made Harry want to cry.
Over the next few days Hermione and her parents nursed Harry back to health. Harry wanted to go home but Hermione had threatened to come for every meal to make sure he didn’t starve. He couldn’t escape her, but he couldn’t face her. He couldn’t look into her brown eyes and lie to her, but he couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t tell her about the door.
An article in The Quibbler told the wizarding world The Secret You-Know-Who Keeps From His Followers. Now everyone knew that Lord Voldemort was really Tom Riddle and that his father had been a Muggle. Mr. Lovegood paid a steep price for that scoop. An owl from Ron reported that the Weasleys could see the Death Head over the Lovegoods’ house from their kitchen window. Luna was staying at the Weasley’s.
Harry left the Grangers’ home and went back to Twelve and seven-sixteenths Greenfield Way. Members of the Order took turns dropping by to make sure he had food: Tonks and Lupin, Molly and Arthur, Bill and Fleur and even Professor McGonagall.
Professor McGonagall urged Harry to return to Hogwarts for his seventh year. The school would be open, although with tuition revenue projections down there would be staffing problems. Professor Slughorn was complaining of old age and having to assume the role of Head of Slytherin House. He had dropped to half-time. They couldn’t hire a new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. Madam Hooch married the coach of the Appleby Arrows and quit. Administrative tasks were taking up a lot of McGonagall’s and Flitwick’s time. They were going to use seventh year students as instructors for first and second year courses. Hermione would teach Charms and Transfigurations. McGonagall offered Harry the job of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and Flying for the first and second year students. As a faculty member he would be able to leave the school grounds if he needed to. Plus he could get a nice break on tuition expenses. He told her he needed a few days to think about it.
Mid-August came and went. Harry said yes to Professor McGonagall’s job offer. He couldn’t sit at home and do nothing. He couldn’t go back into the crypt in Kensal Green. He had gotten past the dragon twice but that was really dangerous. He had made it through the gauntlet and the cage and he had made it out, although the attempt had nearly killed him. But the door had stopped him. He couldn’t open the door.
The war news in The Daily Prophet made Harry ill. The Creevy family had been murdered, Colin, Dennis, their parents and young sister. It was extremely rare for a Muggle family to produce two wizards but it turned out that Colin’s mother had been a Muggle-born witch who hadn’t gone to Hogwarts. Voldemort’s followers wanted to purify the wizarding community by eliminating the Muggle-born. Harry had to go back into that crypt and get that Horcrux. But he couldn’t open the door.
“Harry,” Hermione said quietly, “I brought your dinner. I’ve been here an hour, and you won’t talk to me.”
Harry remained silent.
“You won’t look at me,” Hermione said.
Harry avoided her eyes.
“School starts in just over a week,” she pointed out. “You have to get that Horcrux.”
“I failed,” he said.
“You’re the…the Chosen One,” Hermione said in a higher than normal pitch. “I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”
“The queen’s an important piece…” Percy’s voice echoed in Harry’s mind.
“When you came to my house, bloody and beaten, I healed you,” Hermione said. “I held you… and helped you sip water.”
she has to be used…
“You were… delirious,” she said haltingly. “You talked.”
and sometimes sacrificed…
“It was a door…that stopped you,” Hermione said. “What was it about that door?”
Harry buried his face in his hands.
“It was…” he croaked, “Runes.”
Author’s notes
In Chapter 25 (page 552, U.S. edition) Harry prepares to go off with Dumbledore to recover a Horcrux. Note the huge difference between Ron’s response and Hermione’s response when Harry gives them the Felix Felicis. Ron is awestruck, but Hermione doesn’t want it? Why the big difference in their attitudes? Felix Felicis is seriously cool stuff and Ron is ready to give it a try for real! If Hermione had a crush on Ron for years and he has finally gotten around to admitting that he loved her, wouldn’t she want her guy to have a night of good luck? If she was just a legalistic prude she would want the bottle in her hand so she could make sure that neither of her friends took the drug. Maybe she does want her guy to have the good luck. She wants Harry to take it.
Hermione is smart enough to realize that Harry is going into a dangerous place. Dumbledore’s necrotic arm shows what can happen to a fellow who messes with Voldemort’s Horcruxes. Harry says that very telling line “Don’t look like that, Hermione…”. What sort of look was Hermione giving Harry? Fear? Concern? Love? What was Harry really saying? “Don’t be concerned for me, Hermione.” “Don’t love me, Hermione.”
Then Harry leaves without saying a word to Ginny.
When the fight was over, they knew the Dark Mark was hanging over Hogwarts but they didn’t know who it was for. Harry comes into the hospital and Hermione runs to him and hugs him (Chapter 29, page 613). Hermione doesn’t care what Ginny thinks about it and she doesn’t care what Ron thinks about it. This is just an outburst of honest, uncontrollable, heart-felt relief when she learns that Harry is safe. This was the night that Dumbledore died. This was the night that Harry made the decision to break up with Ginny and Hermione’s hug was one of the moments of that night.