Hey guys! Silinde here. Just wanted to tell you that I'm not sure when the
next update's coming. In less than 5 days I leave for District Orchestra.
Blah, I just had to transpose all my music too. What kind of idiot puts
the first movement in Bb, the 2nd in C, then the last two in A? A complete
moron. Wish me luck!
Badassgothicgirl: Eh, wasn't yelling at you, just tryin tah stress ya see. Dunno italics meself. *feels all hagridish*
dracos-girl8706: Thanks so much for you support, it means a lot.
Monkeystarz: hehe, you should ALMOST as hyper as me. ;-) Thanks, and don't worry, I've haven't forgotten the readers!
Artemis Moonclaw: Well, a lot.
Doneril: *reels from the questions* If I told you, there'd be no point in writing, would there? ;-)
knot2be: Well, you'll see.
Innocent Bystander: Thanks, that's the whole reason why I write!
Emma Ackroyd: Once again, thank you and thank you.
***********************
Back in his four-poster bed, Harry Potter bolted upright, being abruptly awakened.
"HERMIONE!"
Scared out of their wits, the remaining members of his dormitory snapped on their lights.
"Harry, what's wrong?"
"Someone hasn't been attacked again, have they?"
"Harry, not........HIM!"
Harry, his breath coming in short gasps, tried vainly to untwist the covers that had enveloped his body. He swept back his hair with his hands, and tried to put a calm look in his eyes. "Nothing........Sorry, just a bad dream. Still upset about Hermione you know......"
Neville gave Harry a sympathetic smile, and helped himself to some water. He was still a bit shaken.
"Yeah, we all miss her, wonder where she's gotten to though? Goodnight Harry."
Everyone climbed back into bed, and soon the lights were off again. Ron, however, stayed standing by Harry's bedside.
"What was it?" He whispered anxiously.
Harry wrinkled his brow.
"I don't know....... but it's Hermione, I know it is. Something's happened........ It hurts........"
Ron's eyes widened.
"Your scar?" He whispered, terrified.
"No," Harry said distractedly, his hands running down from his forehead. He looked up at Ron.
"It was nothing.......no, really."
Ron shot him a look of disbelief.
"I'm just still upset, Ron. Bad dreams. Seriously."
Ron gave him a significant look.
"Alright......night then."
Harry watched as Ron climbed into his bed. A few minutes later steady snoring could be heard.
Harry rolled over, and tried to clear his head. He found his fingers roving down from his scar to rest lightly on the side of an aching neck. Hmm, perhaps he'd been sleeping on it wrong.
Feeling quite off-balance, the boy-who-lived fell back into an uneasy slumber, but not before deciding to see the headmaster first thing in the morning.
******************
"Professor Dumbledore sir?"
Dumbledore looked up from his work.
"Come in."
Harry stepped into the office, and closed the heavy oak door behind him. Dumbledore regarded him lightly overtop his spectacles.
"I presume you are here to discuss the whereabouts of Miss Granger?"
Harry nodded and sat down, at a loss for words. Dumbledore sighed.
"Well, it would please you to know then, Harry, that we know where she is, and-"
"-you know where she is?? Well where? Are you getting her back? Is she hurt?"
Harry had sprung from his chair, and was now almost nose-to-nose with the headmaster.
Dumbledore shifted his spectacles, which had flopped lopsided on his nose when Harry had shook his desk.
"Harry, this is a very.......complex situation. If you would allow me the time, I will explain it to you. But be warned, the details might not be to your.......liking."
Harry brushed aside the headmaster's warning, and beckoned him to continue.
An hour later, Harry slowly exited Dumbledore's office. His eyes were round, green orbs that hung in his face, and his expression was that of a stunned dragon. He didn't even realize where he was walking until Ron shook his arm at the Gryffindor table.
"I missed you this morning, figured you went to Dumbledore. So, what's up?"
Harry gazed at his friend, opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
"We've got problems."
******************
Back in 1869, early-morning emotions weren't much higher. Albus sat on his bed, fingering a small ring that sat in the palm of his hand. It was a smaller replica of the silver one he always wore on his right ring finger, and was imbedded with rubies, and the Gryffindor crest. Albus had magicked both of the rings so that the letters 'A' and 'H' were intertwined in the center ruby.
Biting his lip, he slid the smaller one into his robe pocket, and headed towards the portrait hole. A nice walk. Yes, perhaps that would ease the throbbing pain he felt in his heart.
Halfway towards the main hall, he bumped into quite a disturbance.
"Ah, get off of me! GET OFF! I WASN'T GOING TO LET HER DIE......."
Albus pushed his way through the crowd to see a Slytherin fifth year, on the floor and clearly bruised. He was covered head to toe in stinksap, and those around him began to pelt him with rubbish.
"You've disgraced us, Flitcher!" Rang a clear, feminine voice. "You should have left her there, one less mudblood in the world......"
The boy's eyes flashed defiantly, and Albus noticed the prefect badge pinned on his robes.
"Ah come off it, Black, how do you even know she's one?"
The girl scowled, and spit on the ground.
"Couldn't be anymore obvious. Half of Gryffindor are anyway." She paused. "Now you'll learn to respect the ways of YOUR house."
Albus watched in horror as a gang of 7th year Slytherins proceeded to beat on the cowering 5th year.
Flitcher cried out as a particularly hard blow caught him in his stomach, and he doubled over, fighting for breath.
"STOP THIS! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"
Albus fought his way through the throng, and went over to the 5th year.
"Are you alright?" He asked, throwing an arm underneath him.
"You stay out of this, Dumbledore." The girl hissed venomously.
"Well, I've decided to make this my business." Albus shot back, drawing out his wand.
The knot of Slytherins backed away, staring at the small piece of wood in front of them. Albus was highly renowned throughout the school for his incredible power and wandwork.
"We'll meet again." The girl shot, and turned on her heel, swishing her cloak and briskly taking off down the hallway. Most of the other Slytherins followed, the ones that didn't melting out of sight, shooting Albus fearful glances as they did so.
Albus turned his attention to the boy on the floor, who was attempting to stem the flow of blood from what looked like a broken nose. Albus threw both arms underneath him, and heaved him up on his feet.
"Danks." The boy said, brushing his robes off. "Budd I don' need your help anymore."
Albus persisted.
"You talked about a girl. Who?"
The boy shot him a scathing look.
"'S nond of your busidess. I found a girl and dook her do deh hospidal wing lasd nigh'."
He turned.
Albus shot after him.
"Wait! Aren't you going to the hospital wing? You're pretty beat up-"
"AWAY WID YOU!" The boy yelled, his eyes round in anger. "Dis has noding do do wid you, or your heroic Gryffindor ways. I will cope wid whad I have. Gooday."
Albus watched his retreating back.
"You know, what you did for that girl, it was very un-Slytherin of you."
The boy glanced back, scowled, but didn't say anything. Albus allowed himself a quick grin before he took of in the direction of the hospital wing.
When he arrived, he found the room occupied by nobody less than the headmaster, and the Gryffindor head of house. Thinking that he probably wouldn't be welcomed right now, Albus stowed himself behind a pillar outside of the room. The door was wide open, and every word carried through on the breeze that flowed through the room, courtesy of an open window.
"Yes, the Flitcher boy found her, just lying there on the floor. Examining the wound when she first arrived, it had to have happened less than a few minutes by the time he brought her. This was confirmed by the prefect, who said he scared off someone who was standing by the place where she was found."
Albus' eyes grew round with fright. Wound? There was a wound?
"Calm down," he mumbled to himself, "you don't even know if it was Hermione."
But the nagging voice in his head would not desist. It had to be her! She wasn't at breakfast this morning, no one's seen her lately....
Stop it!
Fine, but you know she's in there.
I'll PROVE to you she's not in there. You're crazy to think it's her.......
Crazy? Ha, I'm not the one trying to win an argument against myself.
Albus straightened, and mentally slapped himself. Sucking in a breath of air, he walked straight into the infirmary.
"HERMIONE!" Albus' fears were confirmed.
"Mr. Dumbledore, this is a hospital wing!"
Albus paid them no heed, and hurried to the only occupied bed, in which indeed lay Hermione. Her face was pale, her skin taunt, and a large bandage around her neck.
"Madam Winsfill, why's there a bandage?? Couldn't you have just healed it in a few seconds??"
Madam Winsfill gave Albus a stony stare, as if she found his inquiring offensive. She shot a look at the headmaster, who merely nodded. She sighed.
"The blade she was struck with-yes THE BLADE," Madam Winsfill stressed, at seeing the stunned look on Albus' face, "was enchanted so that it'll have to heal the old-fashioned way I suppose. And it also appears to have carried fever or some other sickness on it. Whatever it is I can cure it mind you," for Albus' face had turned desperate, "but it will take awhile. She'll be here a week at least."
Albus' gaze dropped to the unconscious form in front of him. He pulled a stool over to her bedside and sat down, taking her hand in his.
"Now REALLY Mr. Dumbledore, I must insist-"
The headmaster stopped her with a gesture of his hand.
"Guinevere, I think the best medicine for Miss Granger right now is what you see in front of you."
Madam Winsfill stopped, and merely shot the headmaster a final look before retreating into her quarters next door. The headmaster walked through the doorway, then looked back to see Albus clutching her hand.
"I'll just run along and excuse you from your classes today then."
He smiled, and left.
Badassgothicgirl: Eh, wasn't yelling at you, just tryin tah stress ya see. Dunno italics meself. *feels all hagridish*
dracos-girl8706: Thanks so much for you support, it means a lot.
Monkeystarz: hehe, you should ALMOST as hyper as me. ;-) Thanks, and don't worry, I've haven't forgotten the readers!
Artemis Moonclaw: Well, a lot.
Doneril: *reels from the questions* If I told you, there'd be no point in writing, would there? ;-)
knot2be: Well, you'll see.
Innocent Bystander: Thanks, that's the whole reason why I write!
Emma Ackroyd: Once again, thank you and thank you.
***********************
Back in his four-poster bed, Harry Potter bolted upright, being abruptly awakened.
"HERMIONE!"
Scared out of their wits, the remaining members of his dormitory snapped on their lights.
"Harry, what's wrong?"
"Someone hasn't been attacked again, have they?"
"Harry, not........HIM!"
Harry, his breath coming in short gasps, tried vainly to untwist the covers that had enveloped his body. He swept back his hair with his hands, and tried to put a calm look in his eyes. "Nothing........Sorry, just a bad dream. Still upset about Hermione you know......"
Neville gave Harry a sympathetic smile, and helped himself to some water. He was still a bit shaken.
"Yeah, we all miss her, wonder where she's gotten to though? Goodnight Harry."
Everyone climbed back into bed, and soon the lights were off again. Ron, however, stayed standing by Harry's bedside.
"What was it?" He whispered anxiously.
Harry wrinkled his brow.
"I don't know....... but it's Hermione, I know it is. Something's happened........ It hurts........"
Ron's eyes widened.
"Your scar?" He whispered, terrified.
"No," Harry said distractedly, his hands running down from his forehead. He looked up at Ron.
"It was nothing.......no, really."
Ron shot him a look of disbelief.
"I'm just still upset, Ron. Bad dreams. Seriously."
Ron gave him a significant look.
"Alright......night then."
Harry watched as Ron climbed into his bed. A few minutes later steady snoring could be heard.
Harry rolled over, and tried to clear his head. He found his fingers roving down from his scar to rest lightly on the side of an aching neck. Hmm, perhaps he'd been sleeping on it wrong.
Feeling quite off-balance, the boy-who-lived fell back into an uneasy slumber, but not before deciding to see the headmaster first thing in the morning.
******************
"Professor Dumbledore sir?"
Dumbledore looked up from his work.
"Come in."
Harry stepped into the office, and closed the heavy oak door behind him. Dumbledore regarded him lightly overtop his spectacles.
"I presume you are here to discuss the whereabouts of Miss Granger?"
Harry nodded and sat down, at a loss for words. Dumbledore sighed.
"Well, it would please you to know then, Harry, that we know where she is, and-"
"-you know where she is?? Well where? Are you getting her back? Is she hurt?"
Harry had sprung from his chair, and was now almost nose-to-nose with the headmaster.
Dumbledore shifted his spectacles, which had flopped lopsided on his nose when Harry had shook his desk.
"Harry, this is a very.......complex situation. If you would allow me the time, I will explain it to you. But be warned, the details might not be to your.......liking."
Harry brushed aside the headmaster's warning, and beckoned him to continue.
An hour later, Harry slowly exited Dumbledore's office. His eyes were round, green orbs that hung in his face, and his expression was that of a stunned dragon. He didn't even realize where he was walking until Ron shook his arm at the Gryffindor table.
"I missed you this morning, figured you went to Dumbledore. So, what's up?"
Harry gazed at his friend, opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
"We've got problems."
******************
Back in 1869, early-morning emotions weren't much higher. Albus sat on his bed, fingering a small ring that sat in the palm of his hand. It was a smaller replica of the silver one he always wore on his right ring finger, and was imbedded with rubies, and the Gryffindor crest. Albus had magicked both of the rings so that the letters 'A' and 'H' were intertwined in the center ruby.
Biting his lip, he slid the smaller one into his robe pocket, and headed towards the portrait hole. A nice walk. Yes, perhaps that would ease the throbbing pain he felt in his heart.
Halfway towards the main hall, he bumped into quite a disturbance.
"Ah, get off of me! GET OFF! I WASN'T GOING TO LET HER DIE......."
Albus pushed his way through the crowd to see a Slytherin fifth year, on the floor and clearly bruised. He was covered head to toe in stinksap, and those around him began to pelt him with rubbish.
"You've disgraced us, Flitcher!" Rang a clear, feminine voice. "You should have left her there, one less mudblood in the world......"
The boy's eyes flashed defiantly, and Albus noticed the prefect badge pinned on his robes.
"Ah come off it, Black, how do you even know she's one?"
The girl scowled, and spit on the ground.
"Couldn't be anymore obvious. Half of Gryffindor are anyway." She paused. "Now you'll learn to respect the ways of YOUR house."
Albus watched in horror as a gang of 7th year Slytherins proceeded to beat on the cowering 5th year.
Flitcher cried out as a particularly hard blow caught him in his stomach, and he doubled over, fighting for breath.
"STOP THIS! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"
Albus fought his way through the throng, and went over to the 5th year.
"Are you alright?" He asked, throwing an arm underneath him.
"You stay out of this, Dumbledore." The girl hissed venomously.
"Well, I've decided to make this my business." Albus shot back, drawing out his wand.
The knot of Slytherins backed away, staring at the small piece of wood in front of them. Albus was highly renowned throughout the school for his incredible power and wandwork.
"We'll meet again." The girl shot, and turned on her heel, swishing her cloak and briskly taking off down the hallway. Most of the other Slytherins followed, the ones that didn't melting out of sight, shooting Albus fearful glances as they did so.
Albus turned his attention to the boy on the floor, who was attempting to stem the flow of blood from what looked like a broken nose. Albus threw both arms underneath him, and heaved him up on his feet.
"Danks." The boy said, brushing his robes off. "Budd I don' need your help anymore."
Albus persisted.
"You talked about a girl. Who?"
The boy shot him a scathing look.
"'S nond of your busidess. I found a girl and dook her do deh hospidal wing lasd nigh'."
He turned.
Albus shot after him.
"Wait! Aren't you going to the hospital wing? You're pretty beat up-"
"AWAY WID YOU!" The boy yelled, his eyes round in anger. "Dis has noding do do wid you, or your heroic Gryffindor ways. I will cope wid whad I have. Gooday."
Albus watched his retreating back.
"You know, what you did for that girl, it was very un-Slytherin of you."
The boy glanced back, scowled, but didn't say anything. Albus allowed himself a quick grin before he took of in the direction of the hospital wing.
When he arrived, he found the room occupied by nobody less than the headmaster, and the Gryffindor head of house. Thinking that he probably wouldn't be welcomed right now, Albus stowed himself behind a pillar outside of the room. The door was wide open, and every word carried through on the breeze that flowed through the room, courtesy of an open window.
"Yes, the Flitcher boy found her, just lying there on the floor. Examining the wound when she first arrived, it had to have happened less than a few minutes by the time he brought her. This was confirmed by the prefect, who said he scared off someone who was standing by the place where she was found."
Albus' eyes grew round with fright. Wound? There was a wound?
"Calm down," he mumbled to himself, "you don't even know if it was Hermione."
But the nagging voice in his head would not desist. It had to be her! She wasn't at breakfast this morning, no one's seen her lately....
Stop it!
Fine, but you know she's in there.
I'll PROVE to you she's not in there. You're crazy to think it's her.......
Crazy? Ha, I'm not the one trying to win an argument against myself.
Albus straightened, and mentally slapped himself. Sucking in a breath of air, he walked straight into the infirmary.
"HERMIONE!" Albus' fears were confirmed.
"Mr. Dumbledore, this is a hospital wing!"
Albus paid them no heed, and hurried to the only occupied bed, in which indeed lay Hermione. Her face was pale, her skin taunt, and a large bandage around her neck.
"Madam Winsfill, why's there a bandage?? Couldn't you have just healed it in a few seconds??"
Madam Winsfill gave Albus a stony stare, as if she found his inquiring offensive. She shot a look at the headmaster, who merely nodded. She sighed.
"The blade she was struck with-yes THE BLADE," Madam Winsfill stressed, at seeing the stunned look on Albus' face, "was enchanted so that it'll have to heal the old-fashioned way I suppose. And it also appears to have carried fever or some other sickness on it. Whatever it is I can cure it mind you," for Albus' face had turned desperate, "but it will take awhile. She'll be here a week at least."
Albus' gaze dropped to the unconscious form in front of him. He pulled a stool over to her bedside and sat down, taking her hand in his.
"Now REALLY Mr. Dumbledore, I must insist-"
The headmaster stopped her with a gesture of his hand.
"Guinevere, I think the best medicine for Miss Granger right now is what you see in front of you."
Madam Winsfill stopped, and merely shot the headmaster a final look before retreating into her quarters next door. The headmaster walked through the doorway, then looked back to see Albus clutching her hand.
"I'll just run along and excuse you from your classes today then."
He smiled, and left.