Disclaimer: Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)
Author's Notes: Hello everyone! Yeah, an update! lol. Thank you so much for the positive feedbacks I received from the last chapter and for all the story alerts/faves. :)
Special thanks to my awesome friend and BETAs, anitablakefan2007 and Rutoh-Chan for helping me bring this story to life! Thank you so much for all the hard work!
CHAPTER 1 – Who Are You?
All I want is to keep you safe from the cold...
to give you all that your heart needs the most.
- Trading Yesterday
Snow. Everywhere they went, there was only never-ending snow, she thought. She was shivering even with all the layers of clothes; the cold wind still bit her as she trudged to keep her pace with another cloaked figure. With a sigh, she wiped away the snow that melted on her face, blurring her vision. It was cold, so very cold in fact that she was starting to question why she agreed to this ridiculous notion in the first place.
"Are you really all right?" Her companion asked when he saw her struggling. She didn't know how long they'd been walking but judging from the darkness that had started to creep in, it had been hours. He never heard a complaint from her, even if she was already tired.
She looked up to meet his gaze and saw that he also looked worn. "Why do you often ask that, Harry?" she questioned, annoyed, finally recalling the reason why they were struggling in this cold. "I thought you said that this is a precaution so that they won't be able to track us! I may have lost my memory, but I haven't turned completely helpless! Honestly!"
The man stopped and offered her a stiff but nonetheless warm smile. She thought she caught sadness in the depth of his eyes, but it vanished quickly and was replaced by what she called the loathsome façade. "All right. Er – sorry."
The silence continued once more, save for the crunching sound of the snow as their boots made contact with it. Sometimes, they would hear a wolf howl in a distance, but on most occasions they only moved forward, relying on Harry's Lumos for light. She had once asked how he was able to do this with only a stick, but he only chuckled as he told her that she, as the brightest witch of her age, could do spells more complex than this, only months ago.
Months ago. She still could not remember what had transpired back then. During the past few days, she remembered bits and pieces about her life before the incident; it wasn't much, but it was a start. Even if none of them really made sense, it was quite a relief to her considering she could barely remember her name during the first day of her 'poisoning'.
That was what that red-headed man called Ron explained to her. A vial of some sort of potion had been found near her unconscious body and it was believed to be the cause of her current condition. They didn't know where this potion came from, but Harry said it had been taken to St. Mungo's for further study. Somehow, she was a bit relieved that the place was vaguely familiar in her mind.
The duration of the potion's effects was still unknown and Ron only told her that the reason why she was poisoned was because she was a very important figure. Yet, with all this information, only one thing was clear: she had to get away. A man named Kingsley told her about their plan. She had to hide until she regained all of her memories, until the people who caused her harm were apprehended.
Somehow, her instincts told her that it was all right to believe in what they told her. Yet, was it really? Could she really place her trust in the people who claim to know her when she barely knew herself? They seemed kind and… logical enough. That odd woman, Luna, had warm eyes; dreamy, but warm. She often said the most peculiar things, but she offered them with an equally warm smile. Surely she wouldn't be wicked enough to betray her after showing her that… kindness, would she? And there was that red-headed boy, Ron; he was the first face she had recognized, she knew she could place her trust in him, even though he sometimes got on her nerves. And there was his sister, Ginny. She had that fiery personality, but she seemed to be genuinely concerned about her. Well, everyone she met was concerned about her well-being, actually. And there was him… Harry.
He was quite odd, really. He had this scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead, and he always wore a scowl on his face. The few times the scowl wasn't present, he still hardly smiled. He always made sure she was safe and comfortable though, barely giving himself attention for her sake. Somehow, she did feel that way while she was with him. He was strong and reliable, and in her eyes, it seemed like nothing could faze him. Yet… he didn't have the warmth she was looking for, the same warmth that Ron and the others had shown her. His eyes were always distant…cold like this accursed weather.
She watched as the man called Harry observed their surroundings, pointing his stick to illuminate their path. He had this determined look on his face and he concealed all his emotions behind a mask. It was as if the cold didn't bother him a bit, he only shrugged it off every time she was the one who asked. He was always alert, as though danger might present itself anytime. She knew they were on the run and she could feel a tingling sensation that someone was following them but why must he always seem so tense and… distant?
But something was off. The tingling sensation grew stronger and Harry barely heard her strangled cry as a spell almost hit her. Jets of light flew towards their direction and they could feel the shadows lurking everywhere. Three other spells flew past them but Harry hurtled them towards a bush and hid her there. Soon, she could see him firing his own jets of light with that stick of his and heard an enemy cry in pain.
She felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. One by one, the jets of light that were sent in their direction vanished and when all she saw was the light in Harry's stick, she decided to follow him. He went around and examined the two bodies that were lying on the snow. His face was passive as he muttered spells and flicked his wand. She wanted to ask what he was doing, but refrained from doing so when she heard them breathing.
When he was finished, he sighed heavily and removed his glasses. For the first time, she was able to see the blood trickling down his face. In one swift motion, she observed how he flicked his wand and muttered Oculus Reparo while pointing it on his glasses. It was during that moment that her head seared as she heard distant voices in her mind.
Harry Potter… the boy who lived.
Friendship and bravery.
I'll go with you.
Harry… Harry…
"Hermione!"
She opened her eyes, her breathing erratic after what had transpired. Before she knew it, she fell ungracefully in the snow, shivering while she wiped the tears from her eyes. In an instant, Harry had taken her into his arms, holding her close and looking at her with a very worried expression.
"Hermione, are you okay? Are you hurt?" he said, examining her closely.
"Stop!" she shouted angrily at him as she backed off, looking at him with guarded eyes.
"Calm down, please, calm down."
"Who – who are you?"
Harry froze as he looked at her, hurt. He didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say to make her believe that he would never harm her. And the question she asked was like a blow to his heart, he didn't even know where to begin answering.
"Hermione –"
"Your name is Harry James Potter, but who exactly are you and what is your relation to me?" Everything around her was starting to get hazy and voices swam inside her head. She couldn't see him clearly and she felt as though any moment now, she might fall unconscious. She drew the stick Ron gave her before they parted, something he told her she could use to defend herself.
"Don't come any closer, or you'll end up like them, I swear it," she said, pointing at the bodies.
"Hermione!" he unthinkingly stepped forward and Hermione, once she realized what he was about to do, jabbed the wand at him, releasing a ball of light. He didn't try to avoid it and used his hand to defend himself from the blow. When it was gone, she could see the puddle of blood that tainted the white snow.
Strong hands wrapped themselves around her, soothing her back. "It's all right…it's all right. I'm not going to hurt you. It's all right, you're okay."
She could barely hear Harry's words as the voices in her head intensified. Why? Why did it have to be like this? Her head hurt, and she kept hearing her own voice talking inside her mind. Harry… James… Potter…
Of course I trust you, Harry.
… you're my best friend.
"Harry… Potter…" she mumbled as she weakly let go of the wand in her hand. Soon, her knees gave out and she slumped into him.
There were more images, raising her hand as a professor asked a question. A man – her… father, hugging her before she climbed aboard a train… Two figures waving at her, one was Ron and the other one was…
"Hermione!"
"Har – ry," she whispered as she tentatively touched his face. Why did he always look so… sad? And why, why did she make her feel so… safe?
But she could only look at Harry's emerald eyes before the darkness enveloped her.
It was dark when she woke up. She tried to feel around and realized that she was lying on some sort of fabric, it was dry and comfortable. She started to stir and sure enough, there was no snow and it was warm. When she rose to a sitting position, a cool damp cloth slipped away from her forehead and onto the ground.
"You're awake," the voice surprised her that she nearly jumped from her seat. It sounded tired, but relieved and when she craned her neck, Harry's face came to view as he knelt down in front of her, touching her forehead.
"Where are we?" she asked.
Harry gave her a small smile. He withdrew his hand to give her something to drink and she suddenly longed for its warmth. "In a cave near the forest in Cornwall," he replied, "Are you feeling well?"
She could only nod and grab her blanket closer to her, only to realize that it was Harry's cloak.
He looked very exhausted and there were dark circles underneath his eyes. She observed how his jaw clenched as he tried to find words. For a brief moment, his attempts were futile and he could only sigh but finally, he looked at her seriously. "I – to tell you the truth, I – it's hard for me to say this and – I don't know what to tell you so that you can trust me but I'm not going to hurt you," he said solemnly.
"I – I'm sorry," she said. For a brief moment, Harry's eyes were hopeful and relieved that she could only smile at the gesture. "I didn't want to cause you trouble. Ron trusts you and l did too in the past, right?"
He could only nod. He was somehow relieved at her words and the fact that she remembered Ron. Yet at the same time, he felt strange and disappointed that it was not him she remembered; he felt… betrayed.
Silence followed the two of them as they retreated into their own thoughts. The only sound that could be heard was the water that dripped inside the cave. Everything was so still, except for the rise and fall of their chests. Harry felt lost, he didn't know how to act around her anymore. This, he realized, was something that was hard for him to do and for the first time, he didn't know if he could do it alone.
Finally, when the silence seemed too thick for her to bear, Hermione cleared her throat and looked at him with solemn eyes. "You carried me here?" she asked.
He nodded timidly. He wanted to tell her that he Apparated them in some place he knew, but he realized she wouldn't understand.
Hermione, upon realizing the trouble she has caused, felt a pang of guilt in her chest. "I'm sorry for being such a bother."
"It was nothing," he said, scratching the back of his head as he tried to smile, "I would do it again, if it would keep you safe."
An awkward silence lasted between them for a while until Harry stood up, telling her that he would get her something to eat. Yet as he rose, she took hold of his hands, forcing him to stay.
He winced slightly at her action and to her horror, she saw the bloodstained cloth that was wrapped around the hand she held. In one abrupt motion, she let go and Harry, surprised at her reaction, kneeled down beside her once more as he realized the cause of her dilemma.
He tried to offer a kind smile and brushed the stray locks away from her face. "This is nothing to worry about, Hermione."
"Sit down."
"What?"
"I said sit down, now!" Harry wasn't sure if he should be a bit relieved to hear her bossy voice once more but complied, nonetheless.
She knew she was the one who caused this, though she could only vaguely remember how. She held his injured hand and quickly dabbed some clean cloths in the glass of water he gave her. Then, she started cleaning his wound.
Harry wanted to stop her but seeing her biting her lower lip in concentration, he couldn't help but smile and let her have her way. He remembered fully how Hermione worked hard once she set her mind into something, and knowing that it still didn't change gave him hope.
Soon, when she was satisfied at her handy work, she ripped a part of her cloak and wrapped it around his injured hand. Harry twisted and turned it, checking if it were comfortable enough and gave her a grateful nod. "Thanks."
She gave him a warm smile, pleased at what she was able to do. Without letting go of his hand, she said, "I hope it will heal in no time."
Harry chuckled at her cheery voice, which was very Hermione-ish. "It will. Thank you."
"I promise I'm not going to hold that stick again until I know how to use it. What is it called again?"
"… a wand."
"Oh, well, er – you'll teach me how to use it, won't you?"
Author's Notes: Thoughts? Opinions? Review! It will help me improve. :)
