Authors Note: First off- my extreme apologies to all of my readers (if you are still reading this). I had intentionally planned to get this out before 2007...but then it was Christmas and I went to see my cousins. Then I got back and it was New Years, and then I had to go back to school. I was going to put it out in January, but just before I put it out I re-read the chapter and it didn't feel right, so I deleted the whole thing, and restarted. In the process of writing this chapter I've mapped out the rest of the story and alas, sadly, the end. So, hopefully I won't have to re-write any more chapters (note hopefully) , but enough of my babbling, I will just let you read on:
Things Forgotten
Chapter Eight
"You don't understand…" a raspy, pleading voice said, "I have lost a part of me with every single horcrux. I'm getting weaker every day, but I cannot suffer another separation."
"What do you mean by separation?" Hermione asked inquisitively at the figure bent over in front of her.
"The creation of another horcrux is what I mean. If I made another I wouldn't be able to take it, and would die. So, that's why I'm been switching bodies with the man, to enable my soul to get out of this body, this body weakened my battles and curses, and into another, another stronger, young, body. Soon, I will make the switch permanent and forever remain in a different shell, but I need assistance. I need the most powerful witch. So, join me Hermione Granger, join me, and you shall have all the power you've ever dreamed of, all the power you deserve."
"Never," she replied briskly.
"But do you understand what I'm offering? I'm offering power. Power is what we all want in this world, and I'm giving you the chance to have all the power you want. Don't turn this offer down, or you'll be sorry."
"I'm sorry then, but I cannot help you."
"WHAT?" the figure said, and turned around to reveal a face so racked with evil, a face so cold, that Hermione now understood why he was called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Hermione sat bolt upright, breathing heavily, and pushed off the covers. She turned her head to look at the clock – 5:38 AM. She'd only gotten a few hours of sleep, but it would have to do. She slowly made her way around the room, getting ready for the day. What was that? She thought to herself. It was a dream…but it was so much more real than that, it felt as it I'd been there…but it couldn't have been me in real life, could it have? She paused for a moment, wondering about this, before she reassured herself that it was probably just another dream, and because she was in such a deep sleep it seemed real. It wasn't a memory, not at all, just a dream.
As she entered the dining room, she was surprised to see Lupin there, with a cup of coffee, a pad of paper, and a grim expression.
"Hello, sorry, am I interrupting something?" she asked hesitantly in the doorway.
"Oh, no, nothing, I'm just…trying to figure some things out. Sit, sit," he answered, and conjured up a cup of coffee as she sat down.
"Oh thank you, so why are you up?"
"I was about to ask you the same question," he said with a small smile, "but, I'm up because I was called out for a duty and I couldn't seem to fall back asleep when I returned."
"Oh, I see, may I inquire as to what you were doing?"
"It was just a routine dispatching. I had to go out and make sure Ron was alright on his way back to London," he replied and took a sip of his coffee.
"Oh," Hermione replied looking down. How could he leave? She wondered. Who else am I suppose to talk about my…dream with? What am I suppose to do here?
"Do you know when he'll be back?"
"Not really sure," Lupin said.
"Do you know what he's doing?"
"I do, but I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you, you'll have to ask Harry about that one. Speaking of Harry…"
"Hello Hermione, Lupin, sleep well?" Harry questioned as he entered the room, and sat down.
"Yes, thanks," Hermione said and Lupin answered in the same fashion.
"Oh, well, I must be going…I have to, get some things ready…for tonight. So I'll see you two later then," Lupin said abruptly and walked out. Hermione sat there, slowly sipping her coffee, trying to push out the words that she knew she had to say.
"Harry…" she finally said after minutes of an awkward silence, "why's Ron gone?"
"How do you-?" he asked, "Lupin. Got it, well he is off in London doing a mission for the D.A."
"Yes, I know that, but what is he doing there?"
"He's…ah…well, I don't know if this is the best time to tell you but…he's gone to watch after Chris, and if all goes well, bring him back soon…" Hermione watched Harry as he explained the rest of Ron's journey and when they may be back, and how they'd stop Voldemort from possessing him, and so on. Chris and Ron, here, together… she thought. Could I handle that? I feel such a connection with Ron, but then there's Chris…he's just so perfect… but he was meant to be that way, to get close to you, no he wasn't suppose to get engaged to me, but he was suppose to get close to you, so, it doesn't matter…
"Hermione? Are you listening?" Harry asked her as she stared off into space, her thoughts fighting with each other in her head.
"Wh-? Oh, yes, yes…I am. Thanks for telling me everything Harry, I really appreciate it."
"My pleasure, but anyways, will you answer my question please?"
"Erm…what was it again?" she asked with a nervous smile.
"Would you like to help me today? We're just going to be doing a routine check of the rooms, but you'd see a lot and it might help you remember."
"Oh yes, that sounds fantastic," she replied happily.
"Good, let's go then."
A puff of orange smoke came up from the cauldron, as Hermione added the root to it.
"Okay Harry, these ingredients are fine, but the cauldron is a little rusty."
"You're done already?" he questioned, looking up from his own cauldron, where he still was just adding the first ingredient, "I should've known. You were always the first one done in potions at Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts?" she asked.
"Oh right, I forgot you don't remember that. Hogwarts was where we met, it was our school and home for 6 years…" he answered and got a day-dreamy expression on his face.
"I see…so this school, is it near? Could I visit it and maybe it would bring back memories, or I could find a book or something. Maybe a wand?" Hermione asked eagerly. She was desperate for something to help her remember. She hated not knowing…not knowing what was real, and what was just a dream…
"It is near, but it's not somewhere you'd want to go. It's been closed for a good number of years now…ever since we left, and it hasn't re-opened."
"Oh, I'm sorry…"
"Don't be, it's my fault really…if I could only kill Voldemort this could all end…but he can't die, or I'm not strong enough to kill him…or there's something keeping him alive and as long as he's alive, Hogwarts stays closed."
"Oh..." she answered and a pang of guilt went through her. Maybe I should tell him about the dream… She thought, but how would that help him? It was talking about a horcrux thing…not killing Voldemort, but what about the other memory…the one triggered by the dark mark. No, I've already told him about that. I could tell him about the feeling, about the lightning and the meteors…
"Um, Harry, is it common for certain, erm, colors, to be associated with bad things in the wizarding world?"
"What do you mean? Like spells? Certain spells and charms do have colors. Why? Are you…remembering something?" he asked and walked over to her.
"Well…just tell him, you can trust him, Ron trusts him…, I did remember it, I think. It was the first day I met Ron. There was a report of red lighting and green meteors in the sky…and I know that sounds stupid, but it just seemed like…like it meant something bad," she said cautiously.
"What do you mean bad?" he asked.
"Well, I mean I think it's happened before, I think it has something to do with Voldemort."
"But, he is…he's been…you mean to say he's killing again?" Harry questioned sitting down, and running a hand through his hair.
"Killing? No, no, no, there was no dark mark. You said only the dark mark means he's killed," Hermione inquired.
"Yes, it does, but this is bigger than that. This means that Voldemort has found his final piece, the one thing that remains between him, and me."
"What's the final piece?" she asked in a hushed tone, already knowing the answer, but wishing that it wasn't true.
"You."
