Author's note: Hello, I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, especially after getting such a positive response on the first chapter. Thank you very much for all your comments, they were very supportive.
In the previous author's note I warned you about some mature content which may appear in this story. I feel obliged to repeat this warning. Those of you who don't like slash in any form, please find another story to read.
Rating of this chapter: T/M
Special thanks to my beta TheSecretUchiha
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Back to school, part 2
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26th December 2000, early in the morning
Ministry of Magic
There couldn't possibly be a worse fear than the fear of an inevitable, quickly approaching death.
Draco Malfoy learned this four years ago when Voldemort ordered him to kill Dumbledore and then threatened him whenever he failed with this task. Now, he was facing it again. And to his true horror, no one could save him this time.
He knew was going to be killed.
He knew he couldn't avoid it.
The way he was going to die was however unclear until the very last moment.
He lived in a false hope that the Death Eaters would kill him the moment he appeared with Negura at the doorstep of Voldemort's hideout. The Killing Curse would be a painless, almost pleasant way to leave this world compared to other options.
But whoever was on the patrol in the Dark Lord's base, they were doing a miserable job. Draco didn't even see anyone protecting the house. Negura had plenty of time to stun him, hale him off under some shelter and then burned the place to its foundations.
The freak returned to him in several minutes, mad as he had never seen him before, and Apparated them back at the Ministry. Draco didn't know what happened to the Leader; he could only hope that it was Potter thwarting his devious plans. It was the only satisfaction he could think of before he died and therefore he cherished it as a little treasure.
Now, when he was being dragged over the large hall towards the section inhabited by Negura's closest servants, he could only think that he didn't want to die so young. But that freak was apparently hungry. His desire for human blood was giving his smooth face inhuman, frightening features. It was the expression in that face what was telling Draco that his days were numbered. He was going to become one of them; a murdering monster obsessed with blood. Humiliating or not, he really wanted to cry like a baby.
"Please don't," he choked out when Negura pushed him into a darkened, empty room at the very end of the corridor.
The vampire closed the door behind them, waiting there with his hand resting on the handle. He didn't look at Draco, he kept his eyes pointed aside, his facial muscles tightening and relaxing repeatedly.
"Please, let me live," Draco begged, his knees buckling in fear.
Negura's fingers on the handle slackened. They glided over its cool surface slowly, before leaving it for good.
"I didn't bring you here to feed from you, Draco," he finally said in a quiet tone. The relief that Draco felt was incredible, but it was quickly spoiled by the next sentence Negura spoke.
"Though I must admit it's a very tempting thought."
Draco shivered as he saw his cruel smile which revealed his pointy canines.
"But I won't hurt you, because you're actually the only one who cooperated with me tonight according to my wishes," he said, coming closer to the young man, who had to force himself to hold his position.
"Most of the events tonight did not develop in the way I wanted them. Voldemort and Potter both survived, which certainly complicates things. Potter still has a huge influence on Aurors, some of them still admire him. I wanted him dead, before he could use this influence against me. Now it seems that I must do it differently, I must discredit him. Which will take some time, I'm afraid. Until then, I must convince them of my own trustworthiness. Therefore, I have no choice but to treat you as a criminal, my dear godson," he whispered softly, though his voice was a little raspy from his thirst. "No need to be afraid, just give me your wand, boy."
Which was the last thing Draco wanted to forgo.
Without it he would be completely defenseless. He would be a walking dinner for every hungry vampire around him.
"Don't worry, Draco. Nestor, who should be here within a minute, will protect you," he whispered.
The young man felt even worse after hearing that. Nestor Desalmado was just another blood-sucking freak after all.
"Your wand, Draco," the Leader repeated softly, though deep under that falsely sweet tone laid a hidden threat.
He looked down at the extended hand. Any resistance was futile. How could he even consider fighting him when Voldemort failed to defeat him? He couldn't do anything at all, so it didn't really matter if he gave up his only weapon or not. And so he handed it over and once he did, his hand immediately felt crippled and weak. He flexed his fingers to chase that feeling away.
A soft knock on the door made his back stiffen in fear. The door opened a second later and the two men entered, bowing before the Leader. Draco recognized Desalmado right away. His perfect suit, elegant walk and handsome face with sly smile were difficult to disregard.
His eyes then turned to the other man, surveying him quickly. If someone could say that Desalmado was attractive, then his companion looked entirely repulsive. Threatening. Dangerous.
"Nestor, Brutus, I'm glad you've came along. I'm in a rush and I need you to take care of several things."
"Nestor, you will watch over Draco for few next hours."
The boyish vampire slightly bend his back again, though it was obvious he wasn't thrilled that he was ordered to be a babysitter again.
"Yes, my Leader … excuse my impudence, but hopefully I didn't offend you or disappoint in some way. Because I have to wonder why you insist on giving me such tasks when I'm..."
"You've failed me, Nestor," the Leader hissed, making the vampire take a step backward.
"You didn't guard Lucius well. He's dead now and it's only your fault! You are irresponsible and obsessed with your appearance instead of your assignments!"
"My deepest apologies, Leader," Nestor whispered and bowed his head. "I didn't occur to me that Lucius wanted to flee." He paused momentarily, thinking. "When it was mentioned...," he hesitated, "I must say that I also haven't seen Leontina for some time. Maybe she's trying to do something crazy to attract your attention again. Shouldn't I go find her first?"
The Leader's face changed in a split of second. It grew cold, empty.
"She did attract my attention, indeed." The cold fury in his voice showed Draco how much he was affected by her loss. "She's dead too, Nestor. Voldemort killed them both," finished, baring his teeth viciously as he probably imagined taking revenge on the Dark Lord.
Draco also noticed how much it shocked Nestor. His chin slackened and he took two more unwilling steps backward. Oddly, the dangerous looking man by his side, Brutus, showed no reaction whatsoever.
"Dragomir," Nestor whispered. "I … I'm sorry … if I knew, I would never..."
"Don't say another word, Nestor! And from now on take better care of your duties," the Leader retorted and turned to look at the scarred man by Nestor's right hand.
"Brutus. I need a new army. Prepare a list of potential candidates. Twenty newborns over a night at most. When you're done, bring it to me. You'll find me in the Minister's office," he said shortly, his voice no longer showed any emotion. No regret for the lives that would be lost to fulfill his revenge.
He didn't care about them.
Humans were just meat for him, worthless creatures which he was going to use for his selfish purposes.
And though Draco should be happy that he survived this night against all odds, this realization almost made him wish he didn't.
xxxxx
Hogwarts, later that day
Everything around Harry was dark and peaceful.
The quiet… the serenity. The pure bliss of being relieved of all anguish, mental and physical, and simply existing in that endless void.
And then ...
"Just as I thought! You – BOY! Get up you lousy freak and go help your aunt!" A strong pair of hands pulled at Harry's hair and he could only scream in pain as those hands turned him around so he could see his uncle's furious, deep purple face.
"I do not nourish you for nothing, you little moocher! Useless, disgusting prat! Why couldn't you turn up your toes together with your worthless parents?-!" The hands slammed the back of his head into a brick wall which appeared out of nowhere behind him and held him there while the aggressor continued to spit insults at him.
Harry cried out in fury and pain. He didn't have to tolerate this beating anymore! Why should he let his uncle treat him like that? He squirmed out of the older man's grasp, ready to knock the assailant off - and froze.
"And I hereby expel Harry James Potter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, effective immediately," said a sly, sweet woman's voice. Umbridge who mysteriously replaced his uncle contentedly rubbed her fleshy hands, a malicious grin distorting her toad-like face.
"No … no … please, you can't!" Harry whispered, panic gripping him instantly.
"Oh, but of course I can. I can do whatever I want. No one can stop me...," whispered a soft melodic voice with a barely noticeable foreign accent into his ear. Harry's whole body stiffened again as those horrible navy eyes glided his field of vision.
"You smell so good Harry… let me taste," Negura whispered hungrily, pressing his perfect, frosty lips onto his vulnerable neck.
"NOOO!" Harry yelled and writhed, struggling against the tall vampire, trying to push him away. He miraculously managed to do that, keeping him at his arm's length, having firmly shut his eyes to avoid that persuasive stare.
"Is there something you are scared of, Potter?" said a different, high and cold mocking voice.
"Look at me."
The younger wizard opened his eyes hesitantly, looking up from the robes he still clutched to the searing eyes of the Dark Lord.
Those crimson irises scorched his insides and chased away his previous terror, while bringing in different fears and emotions.
"You know you're mine … only mine," he spoke ever so softly as if to a child.
And Harry's heart responded to it.
Some unpredictable force took away all his self-control, baring his needs one by one.
Making him ruthlessly realize things he foolishly denied.
He wasn't even ashamed that he gave in so easily, sinking into the embrace without any protests, hesitation or resistance.
"Harry … at last..."
The warmth breath touched his face and he looked up, seeing those inhuman eyes gleam in the darkness, the smirk disappeared from those white, practically nonexistent lips. The cool, smooth hand with long slim fingers touched his cheek; rubbing small circles into his skin, before moving to caress the back of his neck and run down his spine. Harry felt a strong tremor in his muscles following the gliding movement of that hand; the whole process was driving him crazy. And yet his eyes were hypnotized by the lips which were inches from his own; he saw the tip of that agile tongue moisten the corner of the pale mouth distractedly as the cool palm on his waist itched to move a little lower. That simple action brought the youngster nearly to breaking point. They were so close that he could see the sinews move under that flimsy skin, the rush of blood in those tiny bluish capillaries. But what he saw wasn't important for any longer. The only thing which mattered at the moment was the fire in his own veins and the only action that could extinguish it.
He grabbed the back of the man's neck in a rush of desire, brought him closer and took full possession of the cold mouth, prying his lips open, licking and touching everything within that pleasantly warm cavern, searching for that wicked tongue and stroking it madly once it encountered his own. As the heat exploded within his body, he pressed his weight into the other man, grinding against him in order to relieve his pent-up frustration. And just when the things started to be really interesting...
"Harry!"
That loud, desperate call which resonated in his head shattered the whole scene to pieces, leaving him lost in a world of blurred colours. He rolled over on a hard, uncomfortable pad and instinctively groped for his glasses. He found them lying on something what could be a bedside table and clumsily put them on, blinking thesleep from his eyes. The blur was finally gone and Harry found himself staring up at the darkened, ribbed vault of an archaic ceiling above him. The blood still rushed madly through his veins, making him itchy. He moaned quietly and glanced sideways, noticing another sick-bed standing in front of a tall, narrow window.
He was in the hospital wing, he realized as he searched for the person who woke him. Strangely, he couldn't see anyone.
Which was a good thing because he was breathless, shocked and confused.
His body was still tense and bothered, longing for release. A muffled groan escaped his lips and he quickly covered them with his hand. He closed his eyes tightly, but the vivid images of that freaky dream refused to go away. The more he tried to chase them away, the more they popped back, teasing his awakened libido. His muscles tensed and he subconsciously raised his hips to get more friction from the heavy blanket wrapped around his body.
"Ohhh … damn," he moaned into his hand, keeping his eyes firmly closed.
Sweat plastered his untidy black hair to his skin, irritating him to the point that he had to wipe it away from his neck and forehead. The desire to touch himself was overwhelming. His other hand, the one which didn't kept his mouth closed, grasped the bed cloth and tugged at it in a desperate act to avoid a contact with his groin. Just one softest touch separated him from...
"No...," he choked and bit into his palm hard. "No, I'm … not…!"
Just one gentle stroke...
"No … I eh 'm not … a queer!"
Harry furiously shook his head, grazing his teeth against the skin of his hand.
And then he saw it again; those soft, pale lips gliding over his, those cold fingers touching him … there.
At that point his hand slipped out of his control and squeezed the front of his pyjama trousers together with his heated privates, tugging mercilessly and he was coming right then, biting into the base of his thumb with a great force, for he was still trying to keep quiet.
It felt so good, the rush of ecstasy filling his body with the most glorious feelings he could afford himself, keeping him high and intoxicated for two or three perfect seconds, before his muscles finally relaxed and his body found the longed-for relief.
His limbs could be easily made of wax now when they slackened into a completely stagnant phase. Or his whole body, when he considered it.
As his heartbeat began to slow down, and his brain re-obtained the ability to think, everything finally dawned on him. He knew he should freak out right now, because what he had dreamed of crossed every possible definition of normality which he could think of. So it was beyond his understanding why didn't he feel the slightest need to wallow in self-disgust. He was partially repulsed, true, but also oddly satisfied. In principle, he couldn't even say whether the dream left him more enthralled or horrified.
Harry finally opened his eyes and let the hand on his mouth fall back onto the pillow.
"I can't believe this," he breathed out, while gazing at the old ceiling.
"Am I really … such a pervert? And why for him of all the people? If I'm lucky, this is just a consequence of some curse or something," he whispered hopefully.
"It could also explain why are my memories so … chaotic, confusing...," he continued in his quiet talk to the silent room.
He slowly sat up, looking at his palms, which were reddish and slightly burning, though not only from the previous biting.
"What am I doing in Hogwarts? Why am I in the hospital wing?"
He sat in silence for a minute, watching the dark room motionlessly before looking out of the window at the outlines of the landscape.
"Where's everyone?" he whispered to himself. The door to the adjacent room suddenly creaked open as if to answer him and Harry turned his head in that direction, listening intently to a low murmur coming from there. Growing curious, he rather carelessly got up and nearly toppled over. His body was stiff as if he didn't walk for days. Fortunately, he regained the balance soon enough and quietly approached a long white curtain behind which he heard the quiet sounds.
It was his friends, he realized as he peeped in. Ron and Hermione were standing close to each other, intent on some quiet argument. He wanted to step in and tell them that he was there, when the door opened again and Madam Pomfrey entered, looking greatly displeased.
"What are you two doing here? I clearly said no visitors over night."
Ron jumped in surprise; he probably did not expect the nurse's sudden arrival.
"We just...," he began and lost inspiration what to say right away. "Came to say good-night to Harry," Hermione finished instead of him, smiling constrainedly.
Madam Pomfrey didn't look mollified.
"Is it true that he should wake within few hours? Because we really need to talk to him...," Ron continued before Hermione could stop him.
"It is true, however he needs to rest, which means no discussions, no planning some crazy adventures of yours and certainly no undertaking those crazy adventures of yours!" Madam Pomfrey said strictly.
"Um … certainly," Ron nodded, while Hermione kept her fake, forceful smile. It was the moment when Harry decided to step in too.
He came out of the shadow and said.
"Don't worry, I don't feel up to any crazy adventure right now."
He saw how Hermione's eyes instantly grew wide and in the next second she was by his side, grasping his hand firmly.
"Harry! You're awake! How do you feel?-!" she asked breathlessly, surprising him slightly by her strong reaction. He didn't understand her apparent worries.
"Er … fine?" he said though it sounded more like a question.
"If you excuse me, Ms. Granger," Madam Pomfrey ordered her away and Hermione stepped aside to make room for her. The nurse took hold of Harry's forearm, leading him towards the nearest chair.
"You should sit down, Mr. Potter," she instructed him and pressed him down into the seat.
"I'm really fine," Harry protested as she pulled out the wand and began the examination.
"No, Mr. Potter," she said scathingly. "You might feel better but you surely aren't fine. You could have died fifteen hours ago because someone used a lung-lacerating spell on you and you didn't even bother to inform me! Lucky for you that the damage wasn't too extensive and could be healed within a few hours. Still, I would never allow you to share your magic with … that freak, if I knew about your condition."
"Just keep in mind...," she said firmly and finally lowered her wand, "...that you shouldn't count on my assistance next time you'll decide to save some nasty murderer!"
"I - I'm afraid I really don't know what you're talking about," Harry said in confusion.
"You don't remember anything?" Ron quickly asked and rushed to his side.
"You don't remember about the attack?" Hermione joined him and knelt by Harry's other side.
Harry looked at them, his eyebrows furrowing.
"I'm not sure...," he muttered.
Damn, if only it wasn't so perplexing. The only thing he recalled for sure were some lights, wind and a horrible noise, but none of it made any sense. The faces … the names, it was all mixed together.
"Harry, try to remember. It's very important," Hermione implored and he did as she said.
"Mr. Potter should eat something first and then take some rest. He will remember once he's recovered enough," the nurse announced.
"Vampires...," Harry said after a moment as the mist clouding his mind cleared a little. He could feel that the more he focused his mind on his memories the more they became. "And their leader … Negura … he broke into the Grimmauld Place 12 … he wanted to kill us," he said haltingly. "We've tried to stop him, but we failed and then … Voldemort … he fought him … and then I brought him here."
Coming to this conclusion, he looked up resolutely.
"It's Voldemort Madam Pomfrey was talking about, isn't it?" he asked calmly, making the nurse flinch every time he said that name. Then he looked at Ron and smiled.
"Good to see you're all right, mate," he said, feeling warm inside that his friend was by his side, talking to him again.
"Yeah," his ginger youngster nodded, "my right leg still hurts a little, but otherwise I'm okay. Thanks to you."
Ron suddenly grew very sheepish and bore his eyes into the floor.
"I need to apologize for those horrible things I said to you back there. You're not a traitor, Harry, it was insane to doubt you. I don't know what possessed me. You've saved us … you've saved Hermione. I saw how you stabbed that vampire – it was amazing, really..."
"That's why I often tell you to think twice before opening your mouth, Ron," Hermione scolded him, but smiled, happy that Ron and Harry were getting along again.
Harry kept the joyous expression off his face, but deep inside he beamed with happiness too.
"Yeah, I might have stabbed Negura's heart, but it only pissed him off," he said matter-of-factly. "Seriously, if Voldemort didn't come to help us we all would be little zombies right now, desiring to suck the blood out of every breathing human."
"Harry … I seriously don't think that You-Know-Who...," Ron began hesitantly, but Harry's mind was already far ahead.
"Riddle survived it, right? I think I should pay him a visit..." Then the images from that dream appeared once again before his eyes, making him flush and cooling down his enthusiasm.
"Or … maybe it wouldn't be the best idea..."
At that moment Madam Pomfrey squeezed herself in between his friends and handed him some potion.
"Drink that, Mr. Potter. I have a distinct feeling that you won't stay here overnight," she said with resignation in her voice. "I can't hold you back as you're an adult now, fully capable to make decisions on your own. But don't complain if you'll suffer any health complications later."
"We'll make sure he won't overexert himself," Hermione promised, but Madam Pomfrey just sighed and left them alone.
"She's mad at me," Harry muttered and took a sip of the odourless, bitter liquid.
"Don't be so surprised," Hermione said quietly. "She was really furious when she found out about your injuries."
"I guess she had a reason then," Harry sighed and watched Ron unpack a large knapsack he didn't notice before.
"We brought you some clothes so you don't have to go to the Great Hall in pyjamas," Ron smirked and pulled out Harry's favourite shirt and jeans.
"Perfect!" Harry said happily. He had after all more than one good reason to redress himself. He reached out to take it from Ron when he caught a gleam of a shining, silvery cloth inside the bag. He gasped for breath.
"Is that by any chance father's invisibility cloak? You've managed to save it from the ruins?"
"Ron did," Hermione said, smiling. "He found your trunk on the roof of the neighbouring house. Luckily, its content remained relatively undamaged."
"I wanted to make it up for being a total idiot so I tried really hard to find it," Ron stuttered nervously. "It was still sheer luck. The Summoning Charm didn't work much for some reason. It cost us a lot of effort to find anything and put it together. Still, most of the things are destroyed for good I'm afraid. Anyway, we only wanted to use your cloak to sneak in here because Madam Pomfrey wouldn't allow us to visit you."
"I see. It's amazing that you found it though, thanks," Harry smiled at him. "You've definitely made it up to me, Ron."
His friend's face instantly beamed up and he straightened his back as if some heavy burden was lifted off his shoulders.
"Right. We should go get something to eat now," he suggested. "We haven't eaten yet, because Hermione thought it would be better to come here while Madam Pomfrey was down in the Great Hall. And now I'm starving like a troll during winter dormancy." Ron's stomach gave a huge rumble to confirm his words.
"So am I," Harry agreed. "Just give me few more minutes, I'll be right back."
A little later Harry was done in the bathroom and, together with Ron and Hermione, was approaching the Great Hall.
In the meantime he was already told that Ron's father was all right too, that Kingsley wanted to talk to him later and that the Order provisionally moved the salvage from Grimmauld Place to Hogwarts before the location of their new base would be decided. Ron further informed him that the members of the Order were, despite the great risk, still mostly out, trying to track the vampires to confirm Harry and Hermione's theory about Negura and also create a new stockpile of necessities for the Order as they lost practically everything.
Basically, Harry was sure that he knew about every little thing which happened during his recovery except of the most vital and urgent subject, which wasn't mentioned yet. Oddly, it seemed to him that Ron didn't want to let him speak as if he was afraid Harry might start to ask questions about him. Which was unsettling, but Harry refused to break into Ron's monologue, he knew that his friend will run out of words sooner of later and he would ask those unpleasant questions then.
It didn't even crossed to his mind that they were walking towards the Great Hall. He realized it only when he saw its doors from the distance and the consistency of his thoughts instantly scattered.
He couldn't just enter that tremendous room, for it was also the source of his worst nightmares. It was the place where dozens of his friends died, together with his love, Ginny.
The sudden horror of it made him halt.
Ron and Hermione soon realized that he wasn't coming along and turned to him, looking troubled as they noticed his expression.
"I don't think I can go inside … just like that," Harry said quietly, feeling slightly nauseous.
Hermione instantly knew what was going on.
"You don't have to, Harry," she said quickly. "We can go somewhere else. Maybe to the kitchen; I'm sure Kreacher wouldn't mind preparing something for us."
Harry shook his head. He felt like he was giving up again, hiding before his haunting past, refusing to face his fears. Reverting into the coward he was for past three years.
He didn't want to be like that anymore.
He couldn't be tortured by it forever.
"No," he said lowly and made a resolution. "I can deal with that."
"Great, let's go then," Ron said quietly and stepped inside the Hall, followed by Hermione and finally by Harry.
He could hardly breathe through his constricted throat, his legs felt like they were made of lead, his back tensed as if he expected the ceiling come crashing down on his head any second, but it didn't. Harry kept his eyes nearly closed for the first few seconds until he found the courage to open them and he was taken aback. It didn't look anything like he remembered it from the last time.
The Great Hall was spectacular, rebuilt to its previous glory. In addition to the usual interior, there were a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees, thick streamers of holly and mistletoe adorned the ceiling and enchanted snow was falling down at them from the ceiling. Everything was just like he remembered it from his first year, maybe not so colorful but still very beautiful. Any nightmare which could be associated with this place didn't have a chance anymore. And Harry finally understood that what happened here wasn't a fault of this place, but the circumstances. His chin slightly dropped as the realization weighed heavily on him. He stared ahead at the huge window at the end of the Hall, ignorant of the worried glances exchanged between Ron and Hermione.
"Everything's all right, mate?" Ron asked and his voice sounded strained even over his attempts to keep it under control.
"Yeah," Harry breathed out and slowly nodded. "I feel much better now. Let's get some Christmas pudding."
He set forward to the Gryffindor table, which was just like the others laden with plates of roast chicken, beef, pork and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, buttered peas and carrots. The goblets were overflowing with pumpkin and cranberry juice and the bowls were stuffed with wizard crackers and many other delicious sweets.
"Harry!"
Ron caught Harry's sleeve just before the young man could sit down to the table.
"What? What's going on?" Harry asked slightly irritated, especially when he noticed how peculiar his friend's expression was. What was wrong with them today?
"Well … maybe we should join Luna at the Ravenclaw table," Hermione, who meanwhile caught up with them, suggested hesitantly.
"Fine, but care to tell me why?"
"We … we'll explain it once we are there."
Harry looked back at the table by which he was preparing to take a seat, searching for some reason for their strange behaviour.
And then it occurred to him that the Great Hall was silent.
Everyone was staring at him. Absolutely everyone. If those Christmas trees had eyes, they would be probably staring at him too. Harry was used to being stared at, but not to this extent.
A barely thirteen year old blond girl, standing no farther than five feet from him, gazed at him with such adoration that he was forced to take a hesitant step backward.
"Harry Potter," she sighed his name lovingly and demonstratively fainted, which another three girls took as inspiration. They were all probably hoping that Harry was going to rescue them.
Harry didn't. He was too busy being utterly disturbed.
"Uh … that's the reason. Come on Harry, before they can attack you," Ron whispered and tugged at his sleeve.
He let his friend drag him towards the table where Luna was seated and reading the upside-down magazine as usual.
"What the hell is wrong with them?" Harry hissed through clenched teeth, still feeling dozens pairs of eyes on him.
"Isn't it obvious? You're a superhero again, Harry," Ron informed him quietly. "You've captured You-Know-Who. You've taken his wand. During past six hours I've heard many different stories about how gloriously you defeated him."
"Don't forget that this is Hogwarts," Hermione opted in. "You can't really keep a secret in here. As long as Peeves knows about it then everyone else knows it too."
"Amazing," Harry moaned and collapsed on the hard bench.
"Hello Harry," said a soft, dreamy voice. "You look weary."
"Do I?" Harry retorted sarcastically, meeting Luna's unblinking eyes.
"Oh, sorry Luna. That was unasked for. I just have a feeling I woke from one nightmare to fall into another one."
"You don't like too much attention," Luna said simply and her eyes returned to the Quibbler.
"Yeah, you've got it right."
"Eat Harry," Hermione said and pushed the plate before him. "You'll feel better."
Harry reluctantly brought the dish with roast beef and potatoes closer and jabbed the fork in it. Indeed, the meal tasted delicious, almost good enough to make him forget about his current agitation.
Almost.
"Hello, Harry!"
Someone squeezed his shoulder and he choked at the morsel in his mouth He had to cough the bite out of his neck, before he could finally turn around and see two girls about sixteen, one dark blond and the other brunette, both winking at him meaningfully.
"Er … can I help you?" he asked rather coldly and wondered since when the skirts of Hogwarts' uniforms became so short.
"Yes, you can," they twittered in union, smiling at him seductively.
Harry swore mentally. He didn't mean to ask that question. Now, when he realized what exactly the girls had on their minds, he regretted saying it twice as much. He could only wonder how to get out of this without openly hurting their feelings. What an impossible task.
"Sorry, but Harry's very busy at the moment," Hermione said sweetly and Harry quickly turned back to the table, feeling a rush of gratitude towards her.
"Thanks," he muttered quietly when the girls uttered several venomous comments towards Hermione and finally left.
"Thanks?" Ron hissed, looking incredulously at Hermione and then at Harry. "For what? They weren't so bad looking, Harry. You deserve to have some fun too."
Harry thought he would jump from his skin at that point.
"This is not about how they look like, Ron! They were both too young, don't you think?-! And even if they weren't, would it really be proper to settle a relationship with any of them on a lie? I'm not a superhero. I did not defeat Voldemort. And curiously enough, no one here is interested to hear that!"
"Harry has a right to choose his partner according to his own wishes," Luna said dreamily after Harry's furious outburst. Her eyes never left the magazine.
"Right," Harry nodded and Ron only sighed.
"Okay, okay. But you shouldn't be alone like this. Consider..."
"Harry!"
"Would you just leave me alone!" Harry cried out aloud and turned around again, expecting to see another admirer.
Only no one was standing behind him. Unnerved, he stared at the empty space for few seconds before he slowly turned back to his friends. He couldn't disregard the alarm in their eyes.
"Er … I just...," he muttered, feeling utterly silly. "I just heard someone call my name."
"Harry," Hermione said quietly. "No one called your name right now."
"Great. I really missed hearing strange voices," he muttered under his breath and stabbed the half-eaten potato on his plate.
"Nargles," Luna explained in a quiet tone. She was the only one who didn't look at him with that particular worried expression. "They live in mistletoe. You can hear them if you listen very carefully."
"Rubbish," Hermione hissed and Ron suggested. "It could be Peeves. Maybe this is his way to try and be funny."
"No, I don't think so," Harry shook his head and took another bite. "It didn't sound like him at all."
He chewed at the morsel slowly, while his brain was trying to decrypt that strange voice. A weird foreboding suddenly possessed his thoughts. He placed the setting on the plate and gulped heavily. It was the right time to start asking questions.
"Where's Voldemort?" he said quietly, while staring at the content of the goblet before him.
When no one answered him within three seconds, he turned his head and looked at Ron.
"Where is he?" he implored, boring his eyes into Ron's left, slightly pink freckled cheek.
"W-why? In dungeons, I guess. I don't know, I didn't feel the urge to pay him a visit," his friend muttered with a constricted voice.
"I want to see him," Harry said resolutely, making everyone around him look at him again.
"Now? When we are having a dinner?" Ron choked out. "What do you want with him, anyway? He's a murderous freak who was obsessed with killing you for twenty years, you know."
"I know, Ron. I still want to see him," he insisted.
"Harry!"
He jumped out of the bench. Now he was pretty sure that he could hear that voice only in his head. And he recognized it and it scared him.
"We must tell him, Ron," Hermione suddenly said, looked at her boyfriend and then at Harry, her face strangely apologetic.
"Tell me what?" Harry said, the foreboding growing and spreading inside his chest dramatically.
"Tell me what?-!" Harry repeated as he saw how his friends tried to avoid answering directly.
Hermione finally spoke aloud, though she was atypically unsure of herself.
"I couldn't convince them, Harry, that what happened to us was for real. We have no proof," she said quietly. "All I could do was to make sure that the Order would secretly cooperate with Aurors to investigate what's happening in the Ministry. But the fact is that most members of the Order are convinced that Voldemort bewitched us so we would save his life. That's also why Kingsley wanted to talk to you when you woke up. He wanted to explain you why the Order decided to kill You-Know-Who."
The doom Harry saw coming was even worse than the one he expected.
"So … you mean … that he's … already dead?" His voice sounded flat as if it didn't belong to him anymore and his knees gave out, making him sink back on the bench.
"Not yet," Hermione shook her head briskly. "But the Aurors will come to do it tonight, probably about midnight when the children will be asleep..."
She paused and bit her lip. She looked like she was really sorry for saying such thing aloud. This clearly offended Ron, who resolutely spoke.
"Don't say it as if it was a bad thing, Hermione. It's You-Know-Who we are talking about! If someone deserves this fate, then it's him."
"But … we weren't bewitched," Harry protested loudly as he calmed himself enough to keep his voice even. "Damn … Voldemort didn't even have time to do something like that! This is insane; is it really okay with you to kill him even though he practically saved our lives?-!"
"Harry, I must agree with Ron about this. He didn't come there to save us. He wanted to kill me, remember?" Hermione peeped quietly, making Harry rub his temples distractedly.
"But it doesn't change the fact that we are alive, does it?"
"Apropos," he continued pointedly, "who's going to execute him? Negura himself? Are we supposed to say hi to someone who tried to murder us?-!"
"Harry, I know this is horrible, but the school is directly under the Ministry jurisdiction. This was one of Umbridge's first decrees. The Headmistress has to inform the Ministry about everything. Besides, Negura contacted McGonagall first. He already knew," Hermione tried to explain it with unconcealed sorrow in her quiet voice.
"But of course he knew! HE WAS THERE AFTER ALL...!" Harry bellowed in fury.
"Hey … I'm sorry to interrupt you, but shouldn't we go somewhere private? We aren't supposed to talk about this in public," Ron whispered nervously, looking around.
"Let's go then," Harry said firmly and without waiting he strode outside the Great Hall to find the closest classroom. He hurried down the dark corridor, searching for some chamber, any room where they could talk undisturbed. When he found one, he went inside, stopped in the middle and crossed his arms over his chest. Anger boiled inside him and he couldn't stifle it down. How could the Order agree with this? How could they let a vicious vampire who almost murdered them come here? How could they be so blind?
He looked back, seeing Ron and Hermione approaching him, followed by Luna and Neville together with Hannah and Lee. Harry didn't even notice when they joined them.
"Hi, Harry," Neville said quietly. "From what we've heard in the Great Hall, I guess you don't like that Voldemort's going to be killed?"
"Yeah, you're right, Neville. You're welcomed to stay and discuss it," he said, still slightly breathless and his eyes looked up Hermione. He needed someone to answer his questions.
She glanced at him too, then closed the door with a flick of her wand and finally spoke aloud.
"I guess you would first like to hear more about 'the official report' which the Aurors take for granted," she said hesitantly and Harry nodded once.
"Well, basically, almost everyone believes that Draco Malfoy, who I carelessly took inside the Grimmauld Place, somehow allowed V- Voldemort to enter the house and break the Fidelius Charm. The Aurors are also convinced that the vampires came together with him, preventing the rest of the Order from getting inside and helping us. Negura," she grimaced as she said his name, "confirmed that he and several Aurors managed to break through the vampires' barrier, enter the house and hurt V-Voldemort fatally. Then they forced Draco Malfoy to reveal the secret location of You-Know-Who's base and Apparated there to destroy it. According to this theory V-Voldemort didn't die immediately, he used the Fortiserum to enhance his magical abilities, which allowed him to partially heal himself. Then he changed our memories so we would save him from a certain death delivered by Aurors or the members of the Order."
Harry gritted his teeth so hard, that it hurt him.
"That's absurd," he hissed. "How could Draco allow Voldemort the entrance without me being involved? I was the Secret-Keeper of the Grimmauld Place!"
The brief silence was interrupted by Neville who quietly pointed out.
"That's true, but you've been tortured by the Cruciatus Curse, Harry. Madam Pomfrey confirmed it. And there isn't probably a worse curse than the Cruciatus; it either breaks you or destroys you...," he said gravely. "You could have been forced to say it and then he made you forget about it."
Harry wasn't surprised that Neville and the others already knew where he was earlier that night and who he asked for help. It only irritated him that no one believed that he wasn't forced to reveal any information.
"For one last time, Neville, I did not betray the Order!" he said tiredly.
"That's not what I meant," Neville muttered, timid in his response. "I believe in you, Harry. Unquestionably."
Hermione looked at him and then back at Harry.
"We all believe in you Harry. But this is not about our belief. The biggest problem is that Negura has five Aurors, who proclaimed having witnessed the whole operation and are willing to corroborate his statement."
"They are under the Imperius Curse," Harry said coldly.
"You seriously think that Negura is able to keep five Aurors under the Imperius Curse?" Lee asked disbelievingly. "Is that even possible?"
"Of course it is and he certainly did that," Harry quickly replied. "Negura doesn't hesitate to kill anyone who revealed his awful secret. He certainly plans to murder us, meaning me, Hermione, Ron and Arthur. We've seen what he really is, though the rest of the Order seems to have problems believing it. I guess it's because we were fighting an indestructible vampire and Voldemort unintentionally saved us in the end which sounds too crazy to be truth. Therefore, it's easier to proclaim it a lie and execute him without any further inspection," Harry said scathingly, irony seeping from his every word.
The silence returned, heavier than before as everyone contemplated what was said. And Harry considered once again how little time they had left. He didn't know when exactly Voldemort is going to be executed, but he knew for sure that he couldn't let that happen.
"Hermione, you've been there. You've seen it too," he said. "What do you think?"
She pursed her lips nervously and sighed.
"I really don't know. But please, at least try to consider the possibility of having our memories changed. You know that V- Voldemort is an expert in this field. I really tried to find something, anything which could confirm that what we saw was truth, but I can't think of anything at all. Maybe you know about something else. Something what could verify that what we saw really happened that way."
Harry had to admit that her logical approach was necessary in this case.
"Okay, I'll try to think of some … evidence," he agreed. "If I don't find one, then I'll consider what 'the official report' says."
And he began to pace, thinking hard about everything what happened that night. Sheena … his dear friend was the first one he thought of. She would be probably able to confirm whether Voldemort planned to kill them from the beginning or not. If only she survived it … she would be able help them a lot. And he wouldn't be missing her so much already.
But he had to say focused … and Sheena probably couldn't help them anymore. He was also in that house for a short while … but how could that be any helpful ... hang on…
"I think I've got it," he said quietly and stopped his quick pace.
"Got some idea?" Hermione asked almost hopefully.
Harry nodded and turned his thoughts away from the dungeons where Voldemort was imprisoned to his anxious friends. He had to keep in mind that Negura was in contact with the Headmistress, he probably ensnared her and Kingsley in his lies. These people around him might be the only one who he still had a chance to convince about the truth, which the Leader masterly hid while turning Voldemort into the culprit.
"Do you remember how I told you that Negura worked for Voldemort once? How I accidentally found it out when I was snooping in Voldemort's Pensieve? I saw how Negura betrayed him and tried to murder him, which I daresay was one of the worst, most painful and humiliating of Riddle's memories. If Voldemort messed with my mind, I'm one hundred percent certain that he would either remove it completely, or at least change it so I wouldn't remember seeing him in that utterly pitiable state. But I didn't forget any of it. I can still see it clearly before my eyes, which means that he didn't do anything to me!"
They obviously weren't as thrilled as he was about this, but he could see that they considered it.
"Well, this could probably work, if you were willing to show that memory to the Order, Harry," Neville said contemplatively.
Harry shook his head in a dismissive gesture.
"I really don't want to risk that. It would put everyone who saw it into a double grave danger. And you can decide who's worse, whether Negura or Voldemort."
"So we cannot use this as evidence," Hermione said with a serious face. "We have to find something else."
"But..."
"Harry, we need to have something what cannot be discredited."
Harry desperately clenched his fists. He was running out of arguments. And if he failed to convince his friends, Voldemort will be probably executed for the only good deed he ever (unwillingly) did in his entire life.
But what scared him much more was the possibility that the 'official' theory could be the correct one. Who of his friends would believe to his words the way they proclaimed, if they knew that he heard Voldemort in his head few minutes ago? Probably no one. He didn't even understand how was it possible. He was no longer a Horcrux, so how could he hear him? And why exactly did he feel such need to see him?-!
"Considering the probability," Lee said aloud and Harry turned to him, "I think it's more likely You-Know-Who bewitched two twenty years old, then for the Leader to control minds of five trained Aurors, isn't it?"
Harry's heart fell in his chest. It wasn't the development he hoped for.
"There must be a way to find out if our thoughts have been changed or not," he noted.
"There is one, indeed," Hermione nodded. "But it's very difficult and the chances of revealing the truth aren't very high. Only a very skilled wizard or witch can find a difference between the real and altered memory. It's often easier for the afflicted magician to recover the true memories by himself or herself."
"Meaning we are deadlocked. No one can confirm whether your memories have been changed or not. What we are going to do?" Neville asked and Harry for once stayed silent. Not only he didn't know what to do, he didn't even know what to feel. The emotions, which were so distinct yesterday night, were now marred by his doubts. His heart could be fooled and Harry was aware of that. And his rational side was desperately resisting the sickness or whatever it was that made him feel weird things and tried to erase Voldemort from his heart. But the little monster in his chest couldn't be stifled so easily.
"I don't know. It would be easier to decide it if we had more witnesses of that incident," he said without thinking. "But you, Ron, " Harry turned to him, "and your father weren't there until the very … end..."
Harry suddenly halted and his eyes grew wide as a sudden idea struck him.
He had found it. He had finally found the irrevocable evidence he was looking for!
"Ron!" he cried out aloud and grasped his friend's shoulders.
"You didn't see Voldemort in the Grimmauld Place yesterday, did you? You were unconscious and your father used Emergency Floo Network to escape with you before the fight between Voldemort and Negura was over, right?"
Ron just nodded slowly, taken aback by Harry's sudden fervor.
"But you remember seeing Negura there, attacking Angelina and everyone else!"
"Yeah, that's true," he said hesitantly. "But I don't remember much, I lost conscious soon after that freak attacked me."
"It doesn't matter, mate, because this is it! This is what we are looking for! Now, listen," Harry said quickly so he could follow the flow of his thoughts. "You and Arthur both remember being attacked by Negura. That's a fact. Another fact is that you left the Grimmauld Place before Negura finished the fight with Voldemort. Before Negura could defeat him and before Voldemort could - as Negura proclaimed - bewitch us. If Negura's testimony was true, then you would have to remember Voldemort attacking you – not that nasty vampiric liar! And that's also why he's coming here, isn't it? He knows, where's the weak point of his false witness. It's not us – meaning me and Hermione – it's you and your father! He's after you and your father, Ron! Maybe he was convinced that you couldn't survive his attack and now when he found out that you've managed to escape … he wants to finish it..."
Ron looked like he might faint any second. He paled considerably and stumbled backward.
"Harry, no one knows if Negura's really coming here," Hermione whispered, but she was just as pale as her boyfriend.
"But what if he is...," Harry said desperately. "And I'm afraid that this is exactly what we should expect. By the way, he didn't come here before the sunset. Because he's a bloody vampire!"
"So it's really the truth...," Neville whispered and squeezed his hand on Hannah's shoulder. She said nothing, only turned a little green.
"The Ministry is ruled by a sick, cold-blooded vampire!" Lee gasped for breath.
"It's not surprising," Luna spoke softly for the first time since the start of their gathering. "My father keeps saying that for years. Rufus Scrimgeour and You-Know-Who are vampires too."
Everyone turned to her, gaping at her openly.
"You didn't know about it?" she asked innocently and looked up at a small twig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.
"More Nargles, I see," she mumbled for herself.
"No!" Hermione finally sputtered. "Scrimgeour wasn't a vampire and neither is You-Know-Who!"
Harry only blinked numbly. He didn't understand how Luna always did this. He really wanted to laugh out aloud, even though the situation wasn't really comical.
"Okay," he cleared his throat, refocusing on the problem. "When we sorted this out, let's make some decision."
His friends looked back to him, tense and nervous. Harry gave himself a few more seconds to think it over and enjoy the familiar thrill which he felt when he found the enemy's weakness which could be used to thwart his plans.
"We must stop Negura before he makes himself a new army of bloodthirsty vampires. We must prevent the killing of dozens, maybe hundreds of innocent people," Harry said firmly.
"Definitely," Lee nodded.
Harry felt encouraged as he saw how everyone's eyes were glued to him in expectation.
"And I'm afraid we need Voldemort to help us with this task."
The nervousness among his friends grew exponentially. Harry knew he had to explain it right away.
"He's been studying that freak for forty years. He has to know everything about him while we know nothing. We don't have time to do the same laborious work. We need the answers and we need them now."
After few seconds, all of them seemed to come to the same conclusion.
"Okay, so what are we going to do? We can alert the Hogwarts staff so they won't let anyone from the Ministry enter the castle," Neville suggested.
"Do you think it's a good idea? It would only lead to an open battle! I'm sure that not all of the Aurors are under Negura's control. Most of them are simply doing their usual work and if we didn't allow them the entrance, they would come to conclusion that You-Know-Who regained control over Hogwarts. They would attack the castle with full force!" Ron protested.
"That's certainly not what we want," Harry agreed with him. "I'm sure Negura won't attack anyone in the school, at least not in front of somebody else. He's obsessed with keeping himself secret. That's how he made it through the centuries. He attacks only when he's sure that the victims are alone and have no chance to escape. He wouldn't openly reveal his true nature before the Aurors."
"Maybe we are wrong and he won't come," Hannah whispered hopefully. She clutched at Neville's hand firmly, trembling in fear.
Harry only shook his head in response.
"I'm sure he's coming, because he's after Voldemort and he knows that he's pretty helpless right now. There's a huge risk that he's also after you and your dad, Ron," he said to his friend. "I and Hermione are surely on his 'people-to-kill' list too, just not as high I daresay. So we have to make sure that once he's here, Ron and his father aren't alone no matter what. We have to also warn Arthur as soon as possible. I suggest we should split as we have to take care of several tasks now."
"And what about You-Know-Who? What are we going to do with him?" Ron asked nervously.
"The plan's quite simple," Lee spoke before Harry could. "Make You-Know-Who speak. Kill him. Wait for the Leader. Kill the beast too. Have a party."
Though Lee only intended to lighten the atmosphere, Harry didn't feel like laughing at this.
"I would prefer to avoid any killing tonight. I'll go talk to Voldemort. I'll offer him a choice. Either he will help us and swear an Unbreakable Vow that he will stop murdering people, both muggles and magicians, or he will die by Negura's hand – or teeth more likely. If he agrees, then I guess I'll have to take him out of Hogwarts. Besides, I promised the Headmistress that he won't stay for long."
Once again, all of them looked at him in shock, amazement and apprehension at once.
"You mean ... you'll go together with him?" Hannah stuttered out in horror.
"Someone has to, because he cannot use his magic yet," Hermione quickly explained. "It takes many hours, even days, before a magician fully recovers after consummation of the Fortiserum. Without an escort providing magical protection, he would be found and killed within an hour," she finished, while watching Harry strangely.
"What a pity for him! I still think everything would be a lot easier without him...," Lee began, before Harry interrupted him.
"I don't think so. Without him, we have no chance to stop that vampire!"
"I just don't think we should let You-Know-Who go freely, that's all."
"Okay, what do you suggest?" Harry asked, looking at Lee expectantly. When he got no answer he looked around.
"Anyone else has got another idea? If yes, please, tell me."
Everyone hushed up, the tension reached the maximum.
"If not, I need a Bonder," Harry added in a low voice and for few seconds no one responded.
Finally Hermione whispered.
"I'll do it, Harry."
"Hermione...," Ron whined and lay his large hand on her shoulder in a protective gesture.
"It's too dangerous! Why do you have to agree with such dangerous things?"
"Because Harry needs a Bonder, Ron," Hermione answered coolly.
"Fine," Ron sighed. "But I'm coming with you. And if that monster merely looks at you wrongly then I swear I'll tear off his head and..."
"Ron. You have to go tell you father about the danger he is in. You're both in. It would be for the best if you did it in person. Only then he's really going to believe it, I think. And try not to inform Molly, she would go crazy in fear for you," Hermione whispered and touched the hand on her shoulder.
"Don't go alone, Ron. Always keep someone around. The more people, the better," Harry added quietly. "Also, I would like to ask someone to find out what's going on outside the school. When exactly the Aurors should arrive, how many of them will come and similar things."
"I'll do it," Neville volunteered. "I'll keep you informed by the Patronus Charm. Who's coming with me?"
"I am," Lee said firmly. No one had to ask Hannah who was practically glued to Neville's hand now.
"Luna, would you accompany Ron?" Harry asked his wistful friend as she was the only one who didn't express herself.
"Certainly," Luna answered as if it was completely unnecessary to ask her such a thing.
"Fine. Ron, please, be careful. All of you. I'd rather if we stayed together, but we don't have a time."
"All right, I'll meet you in the dungeons once my dad is safe. Make sure he won't do any harm to Hermione," Ron said quietly, and squeezed her hand gently.
"Sure," Harry nodded and took a deep breath to encourage himself before the following encounter. Hopefully his heart wouldn't betray him, when he was so successful pretending that he didn't really care about Riddle.
"Let's go."
xxxxx
Few minutes later Harry and Hermione stood before a narrow stone staircase that led into the dungeons. A delicious smell of food was still wafting from the Great Hall, but they had to go away from the warmth and light, down the cold passageway.
"Creepy," Harry strained through his teeth. "I don't understand how Slytherins can stand living in there."
Hermione said nothing, only rubbed her arms as if she was cold.
They descended in silence, Harry was too worried and also a bit excited about seeing Voldemort again that he didn't want to talk much and Hermione probably felt the same. It didn't go unnoticed by him that she was thinking about something intensively. He decided not to ask.
The Hogwarts' dungeons were unpleasantly wet, cold and drowned in shadows. The rough walls around them were lined with twinkling torches, which produced only minimal illumination. Harry found the cold, musty air irritating, and the echoing sound of their footsteps was quickly getting on his nerves too. He needed some distraction and so he finally spoke.
"Do you know where exactly is his cell?"
"I was told that it's not very far. We have to find the guard," she whispered, surveying the musty dungeons with unconcealed disdain.
"I can't stop thinking about Ron. Hopefully he'll be fine," she added distractedly.
Harry understood her worries and tried to calm her down.
"Sure. He can take care of himself and don't forget he's with Luna, who's also a great duelist. All of this is just a precaution. And even if it wasn't, we know everything about Hogwarts. Where to go, where to hide. Negura doesn't."
"Maybe," she breathed out. "I just would be happier if he was with us, that's all."
"Yeah, me too," Harry agreed.
"By the way, Harry," she said, sounding more calm, "every member of the Weasley family believe in us and not in what the Aurors say. Mostly because of Percy, who's still in the Ministry. Umbridge, who talked to Professor McGonagall few hours ago, said that he stayed there by his own will and that he doesn't want to have anything to do with us anymore. That's surely not truth. It seems more likely that someone on the Ministry bewitched him to use him against us. I recall that when we were at the Ministry yesterday night, I saw Negura reading your private documents, Harry. I'm afraid that you might be his next target."
"What a sly bastard," Harry sputtered indignantly, fisting his hands. "What a dirty game he's playing with us!"
Hermione nodded.
"I can't say that V-Voldemort is less terrifying than him but he's not as tricky and cunning."
"Negura's more sly than the Heir of Slytherin," Harry threw in.
"Exactly," she said and smirked slightly.
They were silent again and Harry surmised that they were getting closer.
"We're almost there," Hermione confirmed his thoughts and slowed down significantly until she fully halted. They were still far enough from the guard to hear them.
"Harry there's one thing I would like to discuss with you before we enter his cell," Hermione said with a serious face.
Harry, who stopped as well, looked at her, wondering what was on her mind.
"Ask me whatever you want," he said.
She hesitated for a long time. Longer than Harry expected. The thing which bothered had to be either very serious or totally embarrassing. Or maybe both, he didn't know.
Finally she found a resolve and spoke.
"Harry, please, don't misunderstand me. I don't mean to be obtrusive... It's just that I happen to witness some things between you and him … which were … eh … of a more private nature … and therefore none of my business, but I hope you can forgive my curiosity. You surely understand that we … I … would really like to know what's going on. Just for case that something happened between you … and him. Something that significantly changes the situation..."
Harry felt that whatever blood he had in his veins turned to ice, freezing his body in place.
"Hermione," he finally said his voice barely audible. "You're not implying what I think you're implying. Are you?"
She said nothing, merely watched him.
"Because if you are referring to that moment when you saw Riddle molest me," Harry said through his gritted teeth, "then believe me, I was totally disgusted by his action. That's all. There's nothing else to talk about."
Which was a lie of course and Harry really hated lying to his friends, but accepting the truth and saying aloud that he was mad and perverted seemed even worse.
He only noticed that her eyebrows furrowed slightly as a thoughtful expression reappeared on her face.
"You kissed him back," she said simply, making Harry, who had forced himself to move again, trip up and almost fall over.
"What?-!" he hissed sharply. "H-How can you even say something like that?-!"
"Harry, I assure you that I can tell the difference. If you were disgusted by it as you say, you would react like I did when McLaggen tried to kiss me at Slughorn's party four years ago. But you looked … your reaction was similar to mine when Krum kissed me for the first time. Not particularly thrilled, but accepting it and..."
"HERMIONE!"
She looked at him and the question in her eyes made Harry feel like a total moron. But how could she talk about it as if she incidentally caught him kissing some sweet, lovely girl? It was the Dark Lord for Merlin's sake! It was crazy and abnormal!
"Why are you saying it as if … as if it was all right with you?-!" he forced through his clenched throat.
Their eyes met and she held his stare for a while before she ultimately sighed.
"It's not all right with me," she replied. "Or, more precisely, it's not completely all right with me."
Harry froze again.
"What do you mean? Please, explain," he whispered, his voice still strained.
This time it was Hermione, who avoided his eyes.
"It's really difficult, Harry. First, I must say I partly agree with your attempts to deny it. But the truth is that..." She paused and looked directly at him. "The truth is that during past several days, you've been more alive than in previous three years altogether. Gone is the mourning, mute, embittered Harry who brought us so many worries. Gone is the Harry who drowned his pain in alcohol, finding satisfaction in whores' embraces and ignored our helping hands. It's you again. You're once again the old Harry we all missed so much. And I'm not the only one who noticed it. We just didn't say anything in fear that you might reverse again."
She paused, leaving Harry speechless.
"But you won't, you're back for good, aren't you?" she said softly a moment later. "And I'm not stupid to deny that it's You-Know-Who's doing. And though I absolutely hate that man, I'm immensely grateful that he helped you to tear down those walls which you had built around yourself. I'm grateful that he pulled you out of that miserable shell where you lived for that long."
Harry watched her for a long while without any movement and then he finally closed his eyes and pulled down his spectacles.
"Generally speaking, you think he fixed me," he breathed out.
She nodded approvingly.
Harry wiped the thin film of dust on his glasses into his shirt and put them back on.
"Ironical, isn't it? First he broke me into pieces like these," he said and pointed at his specs, "only to repair me in the same manner – for what reason?"
"I don't think he did it on purpose," she opposed quietly.
"Nah, of course he didn't. I was just kidding," Harry scoffed and shook his head. "Come on Hermione, what you've just said doesn't actually show me in a good light. It seems that I must be a horrible person … as the only way I can forget about Ginny is when I think of Voldemort instead. As if he could ever be anything close to her replacement. That's sick … I'm a sick guy, Hermione. I need to stop talking like this … and thinking like this. I have to stop it because it makes me feel so … dirty."
"No Harry, listen," she said quickly and caught his forearm. "You shouldn't feel bad about developing affection for someone, because after everything what happened to you, it's a true miracle that you're still capable to feel it. You surely know what Dumbledore told you about your greatest power, don't you?"
"The ability to love," Harry said bitterly. "Yes, I know that. But what would Dumbledore think of me now?"
"I think he would be surprised. And amused. He would probably say that love and music are two most wondrous things in this world," she said lightly.
Harry's shocked expression surely had to look comical.
"You really think he would say that?" he asked disbelievingly.
The truth was that Dumbledore had some weird opinions too, it was probably a curse of every great wizard, but Harry honestly couldn't imagine the reaction of his mentor as he learned that Lord Voldemort for once decided to treat his dreamed-of victim with something other than the Killing Curse and that The-Boy-Who-Lived didn't mind it very much.
"Yes," she nodded and slowly re-assumed walking. "Definitely. I've read all his books and he always mentioned something similar in his author's comments. He certainly believed in that."
It didn't make Harry feel any better.
"Just why are you trying to convince me that it is all right? For Heaven's sake, I don't even like him, Hermione! It's just … that I cannot deny that weird, freaky and totally unwanted attraction. That's all."
His back slumped and he covered his forehead with his palm.
"I just don't know what to do," he said quietly. "I think I should find myself some girl, like Ron suggested. It should help me get over this insanity."
She remained quiet and though her face smoothed, Harry recognized that something still troubled her.
"I wonder how to help you, Harry," she said a moment later and stopped again.
"I'd say just forget about him and move on," she added and scratched her nose. "But I know it doesn't work like that. I've spent four years in tears because I was in love with a certain boy, who only hurt me over and over again. There were times when I really wished I was in love with someone else, but it's not something you can change that easily. You see, I didn't give up and fortunately that boy grew some brains in the end - though, sometimes I still doubt it a little. I know better now that you cannot dictate your heart and I also think that it would be a huge mistake if you hated yourself for being able to … feel affection, even if it is towards such a person. It would be more proper to hate yourself for not being able to feel anything, because then you would be just like him."
"So, it's all right with you," Harry concluded, incredulous.
"Yes … and no," she answered hesitantly.
"I see. You still wish for me to work on developing feelings for someone else. Anyone else," he clarified and Hermione nodded fervently.
"Yes. He might have helped you once, but he's going to destroy you in the end if you don't stop it, Harry."
"He'll try to do that for sure," he agreed. "Don't worry, Hermione. I won't let it happen just as I don't intend to act upon any feelings I might have. Please, let's just pretend we've never talked about this. Can you do that for me?"
"Are you ready to deal with it alone? Because if not I'm..."
"Definitely. I'll be all right."
"Okay," she said hesitantly. "If that's what you want."
"Thanks," he whispered and smiled a bit forcefully. "Now we have to hurry. We don't have much time to waste."
They reached a massive black door in the middle of the longest corridor in Hogwarts dungeons in record time. Harry was immensely curious who Voldemort's guard will be but he never expected to see Professor Sprout standing before the door.
"Good evening, Professor," he said simultaneously with Hermione, successfully hiding his surprise.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger. I'm sure I know why you're here but unfortunately, I cannot let you enter without supervision," she said plainly.
"Supervision?" Harry asked, shocked beyond belief. "I need supervision?"
"Yes. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is a very dangerous criminal, who … ah, I don't have to tell you about this, Mr. Potter."
"Yes, Professor I'm aware of that. But strangely, the prophecy said nothing about the supervision which I obviously need to defeat Lord Voldemort."
Harry knew that this was a bit bratty behaviour, but he really needed to get inside without someone watching over them.
Pomona took a deep breath and pressed her lips together.
"I wish I didn't have to say this but there's a suspicion that he keeps both of you under his control," she whispered.
"It may seem like that but it is practically impossible, Professor. You surely know that You-Know-Who had only the barest amount of magical energy at the moment, only enough to survive. He can't control anything or anyone right now," Hermione said calmly. "Besides, we just need to ask him a few questions. They are going to execute him soon and then it would be too late to look for the answers."
Harry had to admit that Hermione's arguing was extraordinary. He could see that Professor Sprout already agreed with her logic.
"Very well," she finally nodded. "Show me your Patroni and then you can enter."
A few seconds later the shining stag and otter ran down the corridor, enlightening its dark walls with their soft glow.
Professor Sprout then gave them a last comprehensive warning, asked them to be very careful and not to come anywhere close to the prisoner and then the door to the cell were already opening.
With his nerves all tensed up, Harry nodded, took a deep breath and, together with Hermione, stepped inside.
R&R
Author's note: Patroni is a plural form of Patronus, you can find it on Wikipedia. (I didn't know it too, but fortunately I have a very attentive beta. :-) )