Torn ch. 4: Take the Chance


Professor Dumbledore stood by Fawke's perch, calmly stroking the beautiful bird.

"And you are sure that she's quite alright, Minerva?"

Minerva McGonagal straightened her glasses with a stern look on her face.

"She's getting there, Albus. It has been only three months past, but the girl will get through this ordeal."

"Her grades have been suffering for a bit, but not to the extent where Miss Granger would be in serious trouble," Professor Flitwick piped up.

Dumbledore nodded absentmindedly, "As is expected."

"She'll be fine Albus. There's no need to fret over the child."

"I know, Minerva. I am aware that there are other troubles brewing in Hogwarts."

Some that I am not even aware of.

There was a knock at the door and at a beckoning call from Dumbledore, Professor Snape strode in. Close at his heels followed a plump man who was rather pink in the face. A warm smile lit his features, and he held out a hand to each of the professors in turn.

"Ah, Quinlan. You had no trouble finding your way, I hope?"

"Oh, no. Not at all, Albus," the big man boomed in a deep voice violently awakening some of the sleepers in their portraits.

After some sincere apologies to the disgruntled occupants of the said portraits, he continued, "Severus here was kind enough to show me the way. Isn't that right Severus?"

"As it is, Quinlan is correct. I indeed had the misfortune of running into him, and he just couldn't take no for an answer."

Quinlan gave out a hearty laugh, thinking this was a great joke. Hagrid shifted his feet. Flitwick jumped at the sound, McGonagal's lips pressed into a thin line and Snape winced.

Dumbledore, eyes twinkling merrily said in an amused voice, "Hagrid, Professor McGonagal, Professor Flitwick, if you haven't already met him, this is Quinlan Wellington. Our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher."

There was a murmur of greeting and many nods each followed by a booming, "How do you do?"

Dumbledore hid his smile and turned his mind back to important matters.

"Well I'm sure you will all have the chance to get to know each other better in a little while, but first, we must get to the point of the missing students."

All at once the light atmosphere in the room turned grim.

"There was another taken last night," Severus said.

Dumbledore's eyes flashed in surprise then simmered in anger.

"That makes it six girls in the past three months," breathed Professor McGonagal in horror.

"Why was I not informed of this immediately, Severus?"

"It was only discovered just this afternoon when Argus took note of those students who left for Hogsmead and those left behind."

"And the missing one is?"

"Orla Quirke from Ravenclaw, Professor," Argus Filch replied.

"The same as the others?"

"I'm afraid so, Albus," Professor Flitwick answered sadly.

There was a long pause as they all let his words sink in. In the span of only just three months, six girls had been taken from right under their noses.

All had been between the ages of eleven and thirteen.

All were half-bloods.

"What does this mean, Albus?" McGonagal asked.

Dumbledore had left Fawkes to his preening, and walked over to the window. He stared out at the scenery that lay before him. A ray of sunlight fell through the window and he squinted as the bright light filled his eyes. I don't know, Minerva. He thought. Instead he said aloud, "It means that Voldemort's power grows stronger and we must continue to be steadfast."

He turned to look at the grim and solemn faces standing before him, awaiting his instructions, awaiting his leadership. They said not a word, but their eyes told much. They asked him to give them solace. They desired his comfort, and strength. He wanted to give it all to them, but he could only give so much.

Will there come a time when I will look to them for such things? Will there come a time when my help will be no longer needed? What have I done to aide them in any way? It all only gets much worse, and He grows stronger with each passing day…When will this end?

A soft whistle from Fawkes brought him out of his reverie and gave him that one ounce of strength he needed from another. It gave him that one shoulder to lean on that was often just out of reach.

Thank you my friend.

"We will do what we must, Minerva," he said in a firm voice, and his blue eyes burned with a fiery intensity. "Severus, Minerva, set the wards in the hallways. Quinlan, I want you to take care of the grounds. Professor Sprout can assist you. I believe that since you are already acquainted with Severus, he can help you find her and introduce her to you."

McGonagal suppressed a smile while Quinlan, much to Snape's clear displeasure, put a friendly arm around his shoulders as the three of them walked out the door.

"Professor Flitwick you must take care to keep an eye out for anyone else missing. Check the lists each night. Also we will give the students a curfew of 9:00. We must not give them reason to panic, but they must be careful."

Flitwick nodded, brandished his wand and left the room.

"Hagrid, I want you to go into the Forbidden Forest. Ask Bane if he had spotted anything unusual."

"Righ' Dumbledore," Hagrid said and left.

"Argus, I believe you know all of the secret passages in this castle."

"Yes I do, headmaster," Argus replied with a curt nod.

"Good, then I want you to keep an eye out and block the important ones."

"Yes headmaster," Filch answered and withdrew, leaving Dumbledore once again alone in the room.

He heaved a great sigh, and his shoulders slumped wearily. He sank into his chair feeling physically, and emotionally drained.

"They cannot afford a moment of weakness," he said to himself, and yet he felt just that.

Weak.

There was a flutter of wings and Fawkes landed on his desk. Dumbledore looked up.

"He grows stronger, Fawkes and I am afraid that there will come a time when my efforts will not be enough."

Fawkes tilted his head in answer.

"Not nearly enough."

He sighed again and smiled sadly at the bird perched on his desk.

"Ah, old friend, life is easy with your eyes closed." And with those last words, he sighed once more and placed his head in his hands.

When will this end?


She was lovely. Harry simply couldn't manage to tear his eyes away from her. At times Hermione would feel them on her and would look up to meet them. She'd suddenly stop whatever she was doing, frozen in place for a few seconds. Then something would click and she would blink and look away, flustered.

Harry smiled inwardly as this said action happened again, once more. A part of him raged against what he was doing. Pulling her in with a simple gaze. But another part of him relished the fact that such a simple act could affect her so. That he could affect her so.

It had been three months, two days, six hours and 18 minutes since he had last touched her the way he had been wanting to for so long. And he wasn't sure if he could take another minute of the slow, burning torture.

Thankfully, there was something that held him back from throwing caution to the wind and showing Hermione just exactly what he was feeling.

Ron was sitting right beside him.

"Hey, Hermione? Mind checking this over for me?"

Hermione looked up from her roll of parchment.

"Are you finished already, Ron?"

"Er, no. I've only got three lines." At an indignant look from her across the table he quickly added, "But they're damned good ones."

Hermione quickly scanned what Ron had written.

"Ron, I most certainly am not going to do your homework."

She pushed his parchment back towards him.

"Hermione, I'm shocked and appalled that you would think I'd ask you to do such a thing-"

"You might want to add in how the spell works," Hermione added.

"Oh, thanks- and besides, I don't think I've ever asked you to help me finish anything-"

"You also might want to mention the advantages and disadvantages of using the spell," Hermione added helpfully, yet again.

Ron scribbled furiously "Right- Hermione, I want you to know that I would never use you like that- you think I should change this bit around?"

"Absolutely," Hermione said with an amused smile on her face.

Harry chuckled at another of Ron's many successful attempts to get the girl's recently solemn face to break into a smile. The firelight danced across her features as she finished whatever she was writing. It didn't matter as long as he could continue to look at her. She wasn't in danger if he only gazed at her. He couldn't hurt her with his eyes.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Hermione glanced up to meet his stare. This time it was Harry who froze in mid action; his quill frozen in his hand.

God, but a man could drown in those eyes and never want to come up for air.

The muffled voices of the few Gryffindors still awake faded into the distance. Harry's surroundings melted away and there was only her.

"So he does fancy you. Perfect."

Hermione gasped slightly at the intruding voice, and jumped to her feet.

"W-Well. I'm tired, and it's late. I'll be going to bed then. Goodnight Ron. Goodnight Harry."

Harry blinked and the moment was lost. Shaken, Hermione quickly gathered her things and rushed towards the stairs leading to the girl's dorms.

"W-What?" Harry asked, confused.

"She said goodnight, mate," Ron answered.

For a moment, in the midst of a hasty retreat, Hermione stopped in her tracks and her head darted to her right. She squinted at the wall, searching for something. Ron and Harry exchanged puzzled looks.

"Er, Hermione? Is everything alright?" Harry asked, getting up. His movement caused Hermione to jump in surprise.

Ron looked at Hermione, then at the wall she seemed to be so fascinated in just seconds ago.

"Everything's fine," Hermione said, and smiled weakly "I-I thought I just saw something. That's all."

"Hey, get some rest alright?" Harry said worriedly.

"Of course. Night."

"Night." Ron echoed distractedly as he got up to examine what exactly had startled her so. "What was that about?" he asked Harry.

"Dunno," Harry answered still staring in the direction of the girl's dorms where Hermione had disappeared to.

"It's just a wall, nothing special," Something caught Ron's eye and he leaned closer to inspect it, "Well if you don't count the small drawing of Snape here being drowned by the giant squid. Hmm…not bad, that."

As Ron leaned closer to admire the comical cartoon, Harry strode back to the table, gathered his things and made his way to the boy's dormitories.

"I don't think Hermione was startled by the crude, yet comical defacement of the wall, Ron"

"I can draw better," Ron said added as he too gathered his things and followed Harry up the stairs.

The boy's dorms was empty. Harry tossed his books into his trunk and sat on his bed with a sigh.

"You know, you've gotta actually do something besides gawking at her all the bleeding day."

"What?" Harry said, shaken from his thoughts.

"Oh come off it, Harry. I see you staring at her as if she's the only person in the room. It's no wonder you make her nervous. The way you've been looking at her even makes me want to punch you right in the-"

"I get the point, Ron."

An awkward silence settled between them and Ron cleared his throat twice before saying, "Why don't you just make a move on her, mate?"

Harry stared at Ron as if he was insane.

"Yeah, Ron. That's a brilliant idea. Why don't I come on to my best friend of seven years who most likely thinks of me as a brother. You know what, I think I will come on to her knowing that she's still a bit sensitive because of her parent's sudden, tragic deaths. Better yet, Ron, I think that after Sprout's class tomorrow, I'll ask Hermione to join me for some sherry and giggles and maybe we'll throw in a shag or two."

"You know, sarcasm doesn't become you, Harry."

"I don't know what to do, Ron."

"Just tell her."

"What am I supposed to say? Hello, Hermione! How's life been treating you? Oh by the way I've been in love with you since fifth year?"

"That's fine. And you can end that bit with a good shag."

Harry looked at Ron incredulously.

"Yeah, I know. I can't believe I said that too. What I'm trying to tell you is to go for her, mate. You don't have to tell her that you love her in one go. You can…show her...in… small ways." God I can't believe I'm actually going to talk about this. Ron thought to himself.

"What?" Harry asked, clearly not understanding why he was saying this.

Ron sighed, exasperated. "If you want her mate, just go get her."

"Ron I don't think Hermione feels-"

"She feels exactly the way you sodding want her to feel, Harry! She cares for you. More than a bleeding brother!" Ron's outburst startled Harry. It even surprised himself.

He mentally shouted at himself to shut it, but when he started he just couldn't stop.

"I see the way she looks at you," he continued "The way her face lights up every time you enter the bloody room. Blimey, Harry, she wants you just as much. Now don't just stand there like a sodding git and let her pass you by! Go for her!" he shouted.

"Er, pardon us but we couldn't help but overhear you two, what with Ron trying to break the sound barrier here."

Ron's ears reddened. "Sod off Seamus."

"Nice to see you too, Ron. So Harry, it seems you need some help with love."

"Actually Seamus-"

"Not to worry, me friends at home think of me as an expert at these things."

Ron rolled his eyes and Seamus seated himself beside Harry while Dean and Neville followed him in. Neville closed the door behind him.

"So Harry, who's the lucky girl?" Dean said.

"No one," Harry answered getting up and rummaging in his trunk, looking for nothing in particular.

"Oh come off it, Harry. You can tell us," Dean continued.

"If I remember correctly, this was a private conversation," Ron said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine. Let Harry keep his secret girl to himself. We'll find out sooner or later," Seamus said. "Your problem," he continued "is getting the girl, right?"

Harry sighed, stood up and looked out the window, wishing he was anywhere else but in the room.

"Yeah. That's it," he said reluctantly.

Seamus jumped to his feet. "Right then, Harry. Just tell her you love her then snog her brains out. Problem solved."

Neville noted that Ron's ears grew red once more.

"Yeah, that's how Harry should go about it Seamus. First surprise her then suffocate her."

"I'm not going to suffocate-"

"Don't be daft, Harry," Ron said with a wave of his hand and a glare in Seamus' direction.

Seamus ignored Ron and continued, "What you need is to be forward. Show her you want her and tell her you want her-"

"I don't think Harry should just-" Ron interjected, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Be assertive Harry. Go for what you want-"

"But you have to be able to ease her into it, mate, and not just pounce on her," Ron said.

"Exactly. Ease her into it. Make her want you just as much. Then snog her brains out." Dean added.

Ron held his hands up to silence all of them, "Alright, I think Harry's had enough of your…help for now."

"Oh come on, Ron. The man can speak for himself. Right, Harry?" Dean asked.

"I-" Harry began, feeling slightly flustered, and at a loss for words.

The thought of Harry even attempting to seduce Hermione gave Ron a stomach ache.

"I've got it!" Seamus exclaimed.

Ron rolled his eyes heavenward as he muttered, "Oh, here we go."

"Look, Harry. Every girl needs to feel wanted right?"

"Er, right."

"So you have to do just that."

This time it was Harry's turn to blush. "But how do I…" he said mostly to himself.

"Now that bit is up to you, mate," Ron added in quickly and Harry reddened in response.

"What Ron said earlier was right, Harry. You can't just stand there and wait for the next bloke to sweep her off her feet. Nothing will come of it, and you'll be just like Dean, here."

"Excuse me?" Dean asked not sure if he should be insulted or not.

"Relax, Dean. I'm just using you for an example," Seamus assured him.

"Lovely," Dean muttered.

Neville grinned and Seamus ignored them both.

"Now, Dean here's been pining away for our very own Parvati, who is clearly besotted with a Ravenclaw boy. Don't know what that lass' got in that pretty little head of hers."

"Can we please get to the point," Ron demanded.

"I had a point?" Seamus joked.

Ron wondered if reasons for point deduction included throttling a fellow Gryffindor.

Preferably Irish.

Grinning, Seamus continued, "Alright, but seriously. You don't want to do that. You don't want to end up just standing there, watching on the sidelines, hoping an opportunity will come your way."

Listening to Seamus' pep talk Ron began to understand just exactly where the man was heading, and he hated to admit it, but he agreed wholeheartedly. He was also somewhat thankful that Seamus was doing the talking instead of him. He wondered how things would have turned out if he had been the one to say those words.

Would Harry be looking like he was right now and actually contemplating the consequences of his actions? Would he have been able to give Harry the right advice? Ron looked at the grinning Seamus, a frowning Dean and an amused Neville and had the sudden urge to kiss them all for interrupting his and Harry's conversation.

"You have to take a chance and go for her with all the confidence, and charm you can muster," Seamus said.

"Er…" Harry really didn't want to be there at the moment. He glanced at the door and counted how many steps it would take him to escape. However, no matter how many times he refused, Seamus' words got through.

He couldn't do it.

No matter how much he wanted her he couldn't do it. No matter how much he cared for her, he just couldn't gather up the courage. What would he say? What would he do? He wasn't charming. He wasn't suave. Hell, he'd often stumble over his own words when talking to a girl he wanted to ask out. His shy attitude often helped him in the end, but he knew that it would never work on Hermione.

Why am I even thinking about this? He thought to himself.

"Just look at Neville here," Seamus said.

Harry wondered if there was an off button.

"He was forward. He went for what he wanted. He walked up to Ginny and asked her if she wanted to go out with him,"

Harry glanced at Neville who looked pleased. At a scowling look from Ron, Neville wiped the grin off his face and Harry fought to hide his own smile.

Seamus continued, "And was flattened by her refusal."

Neville's shoulders sagged at this last remark.

"But that's beside the point! Neville was assertive. He knew what he wanted and he went for it-"

"Oy! That's my sister you're talking about there, mate!"

"Not now, Ron! Now Harry, do you want to be like old Dean here, pining away for a girl?"

"Thanks, mate," Dean said his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't mention it- Or do you want to be…a Neville."

At this he slapped a smug looking Neville, brimming with pride, on the back.

There was a long pause before Harry answered, "Er… do I have to answer that question?"

A collective groan went about the room and Ron threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"You've been going about it all wrong, Seamus," he said standing and placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. He sat Harry down on top of his trunk.

Puzzled Harry looked up at the piercing blue eyes that suddenly filled his vision.

Ron hesitated before speaking. Should I ask him? Ron fought with himself, thinking if he should ask the one question that had been burning within him every since the night he had found them together. I've got to know. Ron's curiosity won the battle.

He needed to know, he needed to hear with his own ears that this wasn't an act; that this wasn't yet another crush, another infatuation. He needed to know if Harry's feelings were sincere. Gripping both of Harry's shoulders he asked, "This isn't just an infatuation, is it?"

"No," Harry answered, looking him straight in the eye.

It was the surest answer he had given ever since this insane conversation had begun. Harry looked absolutely serious, but something inside of Ron made him continue.

"You really care for her, right?"

What does he want me to say? No?

"I do."

Ron swallowed as he finally voiced his main question. His hold on Harry tightened involuntarily.

"And you're not going to hurt her."

It sounded more of an order than a question, and the look on Harry's face made Ron regret ever questioning his intentions.

"Ron. I love her."

There was a heartbeat of absolute silence. Then Dean whistled.

Ron, now avoiding Harry's eyes let him go, allowing him to stand.

"Well. That statement has got to pass the test, right Ron?" Dean asked.

"Shut it, Dean," Ron snapped, but was thankful for the interruption just the same, for it gave him time to gather himself.

He didn't know how many times he'd have to hear Harry say that before he got used to it. However, he did know now that Harry's intentions were true.

He did love Hermione.

The look in Harry's eyes told him so even before the words were uttered. The strange thing was that Ron didn't feel a stab, nor a twinge of jealousy. To be honest he felt… well nothing.

Did he no longer care for Hermione like he used to? Had his old feelings left, leaving him with a sense of brotherly love that he knew was right? What had happened? But Ron knew that he didn't have to ask himself that question, for he already knew the answer and just to rub it in, his memory conjured up an image of the very reason why he felt no romantic love towards Hermione Granger any longer.

Luna.

Ron mentally shook his head. That was absurd. The girl was his sister's bleeding age, and not to mention a barking lunatic, and yet he found himself smiling at a mere thought of her name.

"What's so funny, Ron?" Neville asked.

The unconscious smile on Ron's face froze and he looked at his friends. Harry wasn't privy to what exactly happened in Ron's mind, but he had a guess. Ron had finally accepted.

A grin had spread across Ron's face now as he said, "Nothing. I just can't believe Harry's fancied her for so long and has done nothing about it but stare."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he grabbed a pillow and chucked it at Ron. His friend's laughter was muffled by the sudden and expected attack. Ron threw the pillow back at Harry and started talking, his voice sounded invigorated, as if Harry's confession had been exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Two questions for you, Harry. Do you see yourself with her?"

"Everyday."

Seamus pretended to swoon into Neville's awaiting arms. They all laughed and Harry threw a random object at Seamus' head.

"Do you care more for her than you do your friendship?" Ron asked already knowing the answer.

Harry smiled as he realized the simplicity of it all. He wondered why it had taken him this long.

"Yes."

"Then go for her mate. You've got nothing to lose."


She was trapped. There was no way out. No doors. No windows. Nothing. She spun in slow circles taking in her surroundings. White walls encased her. There must be a way out. Hermione thought. There has to be. There always is. Think Granger. Just think. But her mind was as blank as the white box she was enclosed in.

Heavy breathing rang in her ears, and it took her a couple of minutes to realize that it was her own.

She ran her hand along the cold walls, searching for a catch, a crack, anything that could be used as an exit.

"Having trouble, my dear?"

Hermione froze.

It was the voice again. The cold, raspy voice that sent chills through her. She continued to search madly for an exit.

"How does it feel?"

Hermione swallowed and forced herself to ignore the voice coming from nowhere and everywhere.

"How does it feel?" it asked again.

She ran around the room and pounded her fists against the walls in frustration. A cruel, mocking laugh echoed in the room.

"How does it feel?"

She looked around, and scowled at the ceiling.

"How does what feel?" she asked in a steely voice.

"To be absolutely powerless. To have lost total and complete control over not only your feelings, and body, but also your mind as well? How does it feel?"

A wave of fear surged through her, and she fought to control her shaking voice.

"I wouldn't know."

That mocking laughter again. Who was this person? And where was she?

It's a dream. It has to be.

"That is correct, Miss Granger! Ten Points to Gryffindor!" There was that laugh again.

"Who are you!" Hermione shouted.

"Oh, don't tell me the talented Hermione Granger hasn't figured it out yet. Shall I spoil the surprise?"

"Show yourself," she whispered, half wanting to close her eyes.

There was a sigh, then, "If you insist."

Hermione's eyes darted around the room, and she caught a glimpse of a slight shimmer in the air. A dark shape began to materialize.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion, then widened at the sight of the figure standing before her. She backed away, and only the wall stopped her continued retreat. Hermione never took her eyes off of him.

"No," she whispered, horrified.

"Surprise," the Dark Lord smirked.

Hermione's eyes flew open, and she found herself bathed in darkness. She sat up quickly and wiped the sweat off her brow. Turning towards the closed curtains of what must surely be her own bed, she hesitantly reached a trembling hand to take hold of the dark fabric. Taking a deep breath she threw open the curtains.

No one was there.

The room dark. Hermione strained her ears and at the sound of faint breathing coming from the other surrounding beds she relaxed, and fell back with a sigh. Hermione closed her eyes.

"You haven't escaped me yet, child."

For the second time Hermione's eyes flew open, and she sat up. No one was in the room.

"A little jumpy, aren't we?"

"This can't be happening," she said to herself.

"Oh, but it is."

"Get out of my head."

"Now why, would I want to do that? As it is well known, your head is the only sanctuary you have left, and how else am I to break you if I do not take what is most dear?"

Her hand flew to her mouth in horror and her eyes widened at the prospect.

"Now then," he continued "How does it feel?"