Disclaimer : I own nothing.
Unforgettable Curse
by Heir of Darkness
She was flying above a Quidditch pitch. She didn't know why, but apparently it was a match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. She knew it was forbidden for non-players to be on the field when a game was being played, but she didn't make a move, and no one seemed to notice her.
She watched in interest as the Chasers passed the ball, and Slytherin was in possession. She frowned, and wanted to go help Angelina, Alicia and the others, but somehow she knew she had to do something else, she was expected to do something … even if she didn't know what.
The commentator's voice seemed very far away, but she could hear his speech distinctively. Slytherin scores, 40-0 for Slytherin, and Slytherin in possession … And she couldn't help, but watch and silently pray for Gryffindor to come up again.
Then it was a green blur, which shot pass her like a lightning, nearly knocking her off her broom. She gasped in outrage, as the crowd exploded in cheers from the green part, in deception from the red part. As she turned to look, what she saw made her feel uncomfortably guilty. She didn't know why. She could have done nothing. Malfoy bore a look of triumph on his face, and in his clenched fist was the Snitch. Where was Harry ?
As both teams let themselves lower to the ground, she did too, and felt an incomprehensible feeling of apprehension overcome her. What was that all about ? Everybody she tried to ask avoided her eyes, looking away mumbling an excuse for an apology and ran away. Malfoy and the whole Slytherin team started pointing and making fun out of her, before leaving with a final smirk. Soon she was alone on the deserted Quidditch pitch, dumbfounded, and having no idea where Harry went.
She then looked down at herself, and almost jumped when she stared directly into a golden cape, and bright red robes. The Gryffindor team's Quidditch robes … She took a look at her broom, startled to see the golden carving on the handle :"Firebolt". And realization began dawning.
She was the Gryffindor Seeker.
A piercing scream shattered the silence.
Hermione Granger jerked awake, drenched in cold sweat.
It was a dream. It was all a dream. She looked around the Gryffindor 6th year dormitory, reassured by the familiar looking room. A dream.
She could hear muffled whispers coming from the nearby beds. Wasn't she the only one to be awake ? She laid back on her pillow, and stared at the canopy four-poster bed. Then she heard the curtains being drawn from the outside. A worried face stuck in.
- Hermione ? Didn't you hear that scream ?
She jumped, sat upright, suddenly feeling very awake, and turned to look into a scared looking Lavender's sleepy face.
- What ? I thought it was only a nightmare !
Lavender looked a little upset.
- Well, obviously not.
Hermione pulled her covers away, quickly got out of bed and grabbed her cloak from where it was hanging, fastening it over her nightgown.
- Where did it come from ?
- The boy's dorm, I think.
- Oh damn.
She ran over to the door, flinging it open, not listening to the other girls cries of protest. Making her way through the darkness, and whishing she'd not have forgotten her wand, she stumbled two or three times in her hurry before getting to the Common Room, where a dying fire still lit up the surroundings. A figure in pajama abruptly emerged from the opposite corridor, which led to the boys' dorms. It was running awkwardly, like it was still in the blurriness of a dream. When it neared her, she got to have a close look at his face.
- Neville ?
Neville didn't seem to see her. In fact, he barely seemed to see anything, just bumping into nearly anything that he had a chance to crash into in his hurry. Mumbling a quick apology to an armchair, he finally got to the portrait hole and disappeared in the blackness.
Hermione stood motionless dumbfounded for a moment, then shrugged and raced up to the 6th years boy dorm. When she finally got there, she cursed herself for forgetting that she was not allowed in. Listening, there was kind of a havoc going on in the dorm, and several voices shouting. Tears coming to her eyes from apprehension, she bumped on the door with her fists to attract attention, resulting in an almost instantaneous silence, as if everyone was holding their breath.
- Ron ! Harry ! What's happening ? Is everyone ok ?
Hushed whispers broke again. Ron's voice emerged from the general noise.
- Oh, damn, Hermione, just come in ! It's not like we're all sleeping naked, is it ?
As she was ready to open the door, a hurried voice shot out.
- Hey, wait ! I'm still topless !
A voice that unmistakably was Ron's yelled.
- SEAMUS ! WHY THE …
- Hey, it was too hot !
Hermione rolled her eyes. Boys … all hopeless. Dean spoke up.
- What are you looking for under your mattress anyway ? It's really not the moment.
A muffled voice answered.
- My pajama top. I'm sure I left it there. I can't find it.
- Then find something else !
- Oh, all right. NO, NOT THAT !
Hermione repressed a fit of giggles. It was not the time to laugh. Then she thought she heard something make its way out off the din. Sobs. Hysterical sobs.
- Ok ! You can come in !
Hermione pushed the door open with all her might, resulting in it meeting the wall with a loud 'thud'. She caught sight of an very annoyed and slightly blushing Seamus wrapped up in what seemed like to be a flashing pink bathrobe put inside-out, which didn't help. But it was not what made her gasp.
Ron was bent over a figure, sitting on the bed very next to the left wall, hugging its legs and its face buried in his knees, shoulders shaking from silent sobbing.
- Harry ?
Ron looked up, wearing the very mask of worry.
- Hermione, please, we can't get any sense from him. He's been raving ever since he woke up.
Hermione flung herself down on the floor next to the bed, barely hearing Harry mutter something under his breath. She took one of his hands, and he let her do, limply.
- Oh, my God, I never would have thought Harry would have been able to go screaming bloody murder that way …
Ron nodded.
- I always thought …
Hermione kissed Harry's hand, vainly trying to make him look up.
- Harry, Harry, what's happening ? Did you have a nightmare ?
Harry shook his head, and Hermione saw the tears that strewn his face. Her heart broke, seeing him going through all this pain, and not being able to share it.
- Harry ?
- I don't know … It was me … two … but it wasn't me … please stay, he's coming back … he's coming back … me, two people … not me … I don't know, I remember … please … No … darkness … oh no … not again … a flash … green light … and she's screaming … screaming … for me …
He blacked out.
- Someone, get Mrs. Pomfrey !
Dean shook his head.
- Neville's already gone.
Ron looked up, shocked.
- Neville ? Who let him ?
- It was his first reaction.
- Darn. You know what he's like when he's feeling drowsy …
- No one stopped him. For once he was going to be of a little help.
Hermione looked indignant, but she could not help but laugh interiorly when remembering what Neville DID look like back in the Common Room.
- Dean ! You shouldn't speak of Neville like that !
Dean pasted on a sheepish smile and bowed mockingly.
- Yes, Madam.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
- If you want to joke, you'll joke later. Now, someone has to go after Neville before he ends up getting lost on the Grounds. And get Mme. Pomfrey.
A voice came from the door, making them all turn on their heels.
- There's no need to do that, Mrs. Granger.
Dumbledore and McGonnagal, with Neville following behind. Hermione bit her lower lip, realizing in how much trouble she had put herself. The Headmaster was looking stern and worried as he approached the bed on which Harry still rested, with silent tears straining his cheeks –Harry, not Dumbledore !-. The Head of Gryffindor House was already wearing a severe expression of disapproval.
- Mrs. Granger, detention for being in the boy's dormitory this late at night.
A bit of a twinkle returned in Dumbledore's eyes.
- Oh, Minerva, I understand her perfectly. Everybody would have wanted to have friends like her, wouldn't they ? Ha, the sweetness of being a teenager …
McGonnagal rolled her eyes, and Hermione blushed slightly.
- We're taking him to the Hospital wing. Everyone here goes back to sleep. Mrs. Granger, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't go out of your dormitory at night. Next time, I would be obligated to take points out of my own house !
Hermione nodded, and headed back to her dorm.
Later that night in the Hospital wing, Harry laid on a bed with new sparkling white sheets, crying softly in his sleep, his pillow drenched in tears. Two persons sat on wooden chairs near his bed, bent over his head, watching over him and aware of his smallest stirs in his sleep. A big black dog near the chimney rested his head on one of his paws, his pale blue eyes expressing his worry and sorrow only too well. The Headmaster shook his head and sighed.
- We don't know what this boy's going through. It's something nobody should have to experience. He's learning the reality of life, Minerva, the harshness that hides in this present world … Far too soon …
There was no answer from the head of Gryffindor House. Only, McGonnagal's eyes lit up, with one of these flames that were so rarely seen in the eyes of the teacher, burning in a new hatred and loathing. Dumbledore took Harry's hand.
- I only hope he's strong enough not to let himself be taken down by it … a kind of grief no one would be able to support … It surprises me he's gotten that far already, seeing what he's seen, what he knows, and what he remembers. The whole wizarding world is resting on his shoulders, and he doesn't even know all of his responsibilities, … Probably better that way … He doesn't know how much potential he's got, neither do I. Nobody can measure the full extent of his powers … And yet so young …
McGonnagal patted his forehead, moist with cold sweat.
- No, he doesn't know. He doesn't know all he remembers. It will only occur to him in his dreams, or if a dementor nears him. Poor boy … I guess some things are just impressed so deep in your soul you can never forget them …
The dog whined, and buried his nose between his two front paws. His
sky blue eyes looked up in understanding and pain, as a lone tear rolled
out of his eyes and through the thick black fur … He knew …
Author's note : Oh, I should be working on "Pessimi hostes semper fuerant
erintque" (That title is starting to bother me !), but this idea just sprang
into my mind, and I couldn't get rid of it before I wrote it down. Please
review.