Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this fanfic are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission.
No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off of this fanfic, and it is for entertainment purposes only.
A/N: I would like to dedicate this chapter to two of my reviewers: dreamy-crazygirl and RainDateChick. Both of you inspired me to write this super-long chapter which is 4782 words long. I would also like to dedicate this chapter to Danica Patrick, the first woman to ever lead a lap at the Indy 500. She and her car survived wrecks and a bad case of stalling in the pits. She finished in 4th place (which is great) but at the end I thought she was going to get 1st, but it just wasn't to be. There's always next year, right!
Thank you to my beta, fanfictionsissy!
Chapter 10: Best Mates and Midnight Commotion
Harry had a headache. A pounding, feeling like you're going to die, kind of headache. Come to think of it, Harry decided that these kinds of headaches were commonly called migraines. While he would usually be lying down, or perhaps taking a potion brewed by Mrs. Weasley to get rid of the pain, things were far to hectic now; which was probably why he had the headache in the first place. Harry hated hectic, he hated crowds, but most of all he hated, (you guessed it), headaches.
"Our only option is to stay here, at least until we locate Ms. Granger," Emmiline Vance said with a sigh.
"That is the only option, it isn't like we can just hightail it out of here," Harry growled under his breath, glaring at the woman. He didn't like her; she was too self-centered and usually only thought of her self.
Emmiline stared back at him, not breaking eye contact. When Mr. Weasley cleared his throat, Emmiline's eyes flickered away from his.
"Hah! I won!" Harry thought to himself, rejoicing over his victory in the staring contest. He turned to look back at Mr. Weasley after Emmiline's eyes had moved from his. Remus was looking pointedly at him; Harry rolled his eyes and sat father back in his chair, crossing his arms.
"There are other things to think about," McGonagall spoke up, "how are we going to locate Ms. Granger? Alastor, any ideas?"
Mad-Eye snorted and thought for a moment, continuing to chew on his toothpick. He had been oddly silent throughout the whole ordeal. From when two people had showed up, unexpectedly, carrying Ronald Weasley's badly bruised and bloodied up body.
"Vampires, deadly business. That bloke with the sword, Weasley, and that woman are lucky they're not dead," Mad-Eye Moody growled.
"Or worse, captured," Remus added, looking ashen.
"But what do you--"
"It's apparent isn't. We can't go waltzing about the forest, meeting up with Vampires, and who knows what else. We still don't know what exactly is going on. They couldn't talk when they got here. Ron was unconscious and looked like death, that man, Jabir something or other, passed out as soon as he sat down, and that woman looked dead on her feet. What are we supposed to do?" Tonks asked, throwing up her hands.
"Ole' blue hair is right," Aberforth, the goat-loving brother of the late Albus Dumbledore, exclaimed.
"Stop calling me that!" Tonks hissed.
"But we can't do nothing!" Harry yelled, looking desperate. They had no clue where Hermione actually was. For all they knew, she could be laying passed out cold somewhere, or captured by Death Eaters or Vampires.
"Don't get excited! What are we supposed to do?" Remus said as gently as possible.
That's when everybody began to talk at once, even the usually quiet Aberforth joined in. The din went on for several minutes, sometimes just talking and other times yelling was involved, but ended when a white as a ghost Mrs. Weasley walked into the room.
"Molly, how are they?" Mr. Weasley asked, standing up and leading his wife to a chair.
She took in a calming breath and then exhaled before she said anything. "Ron will be fine. He lost quite a bit of blood, but with a few charms and potions, I think he will be all right. Ms. Gibbers is perfectly fine, she had a nasty gash on her arm, but that was easily cleaned and then healed. She's asleep now. But that Mr. Hassan is in bad shape, his internal bleeding was extensive. I've done all I can for the time being, but I don't know if he will make it. I've got Ginny and George sitting with them now. I'm just so glad Ron's okay," Mrs. Weasley finished, brushing a tear from her cheek.
"So am I, Molly, so am I," Mr. Weasley agreed, squeezing her hand.
"Molly, did Ms. Gibbers say anything else?" Remus asked, leaning in closer.
"No, just what she said before. Vampire's, surrounded, and Hermione's gone. She's awfully shook up, crying and shaking, I think she's emotionally and physically exhausted," Mrs. Weasley said with a sigh, she herself looked exhausted.
"Molly, I think you should go lay down," Mr. Weasley whispered gently.
"Yes, I think you might be right, but if anything changes in their conditions, or if Ron wakes up, come and get me," she said the last part sternly, shaking her finger at her husband.
"Yes, of course I will," Mr. Weasley assured her, helping her stand up.
She walked back out and headed to her room. They all turned back to each other and were silent for a moment.
"Well, I see only one thing we can do. We can't go looking for her--" Mr. Weasley paused at the look on Harry's face, "but, I will contact everyone I can and they can keep a keen eye out for her. Does everyone agree?"
There were murmurs of yes and various nodding of heads. Harry had to grudgingly agree with Mr. Weasley, while he didn't much like the idea of just sitting around, it was more logical.
"When one of them wakes up, we'll regroup and then talk some more. For the time being, I think we should all go get some sleep," Mr. Weasley finished.
They all departed and went back to their respective rooms, but Harry did not go back to his. Instead he headed for the infirmary; well, it wasn't actually an infirmary, it was just an empty room that had always been meant for that purpose, and now they had a time to use it. The infirmary (or so it was called) was located in the very back of the cavern, in the two years they had been there, Harry had seen very little of the room. As he walked he lost himself in his own thoughts. It was lucky that their new arrivals had showed up that day, they had been scheduled to leave and find another cavern in the next two days. Harry knew that was one of the reasons why they were all so worried, who knew when they would have the next opportunity to leave and still be ahead of the approaching Death Eaters. The young man's mind also settled on his two best friends. Even though he hadn't seen or spoken to them in three years, he still considered them his best friends.
Harry had been more than disappointed when Ron had left. Harry understood his reasons, as well as Hermione's, but he still missed them terribly. Ron and Harry were different in many ways, while Harry dreamed of one day living in the middle of nowhere, in the country, and raising chickens, Ron on the other hand was very different. He liked jumping from place to place, and he liked being important. Harry just wanted to hide from spotlight, leave the job to someone else. That was why Ron had left, in Ron's eyes he could never do enough, and he left because he thought he would be helping his best friend by taking up arms and fighting Death Eaters.
Harry stopped when he realized he had arrived at his destination. The door to the infirmary stood ajar and faint candlelight could be seen in the hallway, flickering. He leaned against the doorframe and looked in. Three beds had been set up, but only two were occupied. Two chairs been pulled up to the right side of two of the beds. Ginny was sitting next to the other man who had come in with Ron: Jabir, if Harry remembered correctly, and was using the light from her wand to read. George was sitting next to Ron, and was snoring, feet propped up on the bed.
"Hey," Harry whispered, lifting the only extra chair by the door and setting it down next to Ginny.
"Hi," she whispered back as he plopped down in his chair.
"Anything new?" Harry asked jerking his toward the sleeping or unconscious forms on the beds.
"No, nothing new to report. Their conditions haven't changed," Ginny replied, yawning and then going back to her book.
Harry leaned forward to look at what she was reading. The Hobbit was the title and the book was a well-worn copy. That sounded more than vaguely familiar.
"If your tired, I'll stay here and look over things, while you go and get some sleep," Harry suggested as he watched her eyes droop.
"No, no I'm not tired, just a little sleepy," she answered, yawning again. "But I don't want to go."
"Why not? Don't trust me?" Harry joked.
"No. I just want to be here if Ron--" Ginny paused at a particularly load snore from George as he groaned in his sleep and shifted, "…wakes up," she finished.
"Right, good idea," Harry agreed, settling farther into his chair.
They stayed that way for quite sometime, before Ginny succumbed to sleep, using Harry's shoulder as a pillow. Harry didn't mind one bit.
The sun was shining brightly, obscuring a sixteen-year-olds vision as he practiced Quidditch with his little sister, Ginny. It was the summer after fifth year, the summer after Sirius's death.
"See if you can block this!" Ginny yelled as she raced toward him on her broom.
She faked to the right and then at the last second she put on a great burst of speed and veered to the left. Ron, surprised by the sudden move, too put on a burst speed to block the quaffle, but it was too late, she had scored.
"Damn it," Ron muttered under his breath as he dived for the falling red ball.
When he came back up to resume play, he found Ginny doing a little jig on her broom.
"Show off!" he yelled, throwing the ball to her. She was so busy celebrating, that she didn't see Ron throw it, but to Ron's trepidation she did catch it, rather clumsily, but all the same she did catch it.
They played for a while, Ron blocking most of them, but Ginny was a talented chaser and was fully capable of dishing them out. Their only interruption was when Harry finally came out. He had arrived less than a week ago and to Ron's surprise, he saw very little of his best friend.
"Hey Harry! Where's your broom?" Ron yelled down to him, not seeing Harry's broom.
"Don't want to play," Harry yelled back, taking a seat on the grass, so that he had a good view of them.
Ron heard Ginny huff, "Not wanting to play Quidditch, what a load of rubbish."
Ron was inclined to agree, Harry was acting very strangely. He was spending too much time holed up in their room, depressed. Ron was very concerned for his best mate, and not wanting to play Quidditch was the height of his worry, Harry was no longer himself.
"Come one lets play," Ginny said, looking annoyed, "if he doesn't want to play, then that's his fault."
Ron nodded and turned back to their game. To warm back up, they threw the red quaffle back and forth for a few minutes. Then they began to practice as they had before, Ginny used every maneuver that she knew to get the ball past Ron, and he, in turn, blocked every single one that he could. But it wasn't long before their peaceful playing was broken by a sudden scream from the ground. Ron's heart raced as he looked around for the source of the scream. He soon found the source, he should have known the moment he heard, it was Harry, who was clutching his scar.
This was, of course, a dream, more of a memory really. It's amazing how alert the subconscious is, even to those who are unconscious. For, you see, this was none other than Ronald Weasley's dream. Why was Ron dreaming of his family and Harry? Because he knew he was now with them once again, or just a coincidence? But perhaps that does not matter, maybe it is unimportant, but we do know of one thing that is of utmost importance, the soon to be the wakefulness of Ron.
The red head slowly gained consciousness, until finally his blue eyes were open. At first he did not know where he was, but he did know he was in a strange bed and that he could not remember how he got to this new, unknown location. Ron struggled to sit up, holding onto his throbbing head. But he managed the task and for the first time looked around at his surroundings. He gasped aloud at what he saw in the dimly lit room, Ginny, his sister he hadn't seen in three years. He blinked several times to make sure he really wasn't dreaming, and he even pinched himself.
"How did I get here?" Ron wondered, thinking hard. That's when he remembered everything: traveling, vampires, and Hermione.
He shifted to get out of bed when he cringed and stopped himself.
"Jabir, you mad, stupid bugger," Ron hissed aloud, now remembering how he was rendered unconscious. It had been purely an accident; he knew Jabir hadn't meant to nearly kill him by swinging that stupid sword.
Ron lifted his shirt, placed his hands behind his back, and felt for the wound that was bound to be there. He felt no wound but he did feel a rough bandage strait across the middle of his back Making up his mind, he began the task of, gingerly, getting out of bed to find Hermione. When he had his feet firmly planted on the floor and was standing straight, he began to walk to the door.
When he passed by Ginny's still, sleeping form he paused to wake her, but when he saw she looked exhausted even in sleep, he decided against it. So he continued on, pass Jabir's bed, and then to the door. He had paused once again, at the other bed in the room. The light was still dim, so he couldn't see the other man clearly, but from what he did see, Jabir did not look good.
When he was out the door, he had to decide which way to turn. He chose the left and began to walk down the endless hallway. He saw a few doors, which he opened, but found no one inside. When he opened one of last doors he found not another room, but another hallway.
"What is this place, a maze?" Ron scoffed aloud, not sure which way to go. So, on a whim he chose the second hallway.
The hallway had no doors until he came to the end of it. He opened the door and was greeted with, like before, another hallway. He turned to his the right and only walked a few short steps when he came to a one lone door; he opened it and was greeted with bright candlelight. He shielded his yes from the sudden light, as he heard all sound in the room come to a sudden halt. He heard a shriek of, "Ron!" and just a few moments later was caught in a bone-crushing hug.
"Mum…" Ron croaked as Mrs. Weasley began to cut off his air supply.
She reluctantly pulled away from him, and wiped her tear filled eyes on her apron.
"Oh, Ron I was so worried!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, kissing his cheek.
"What for?" Ron asked bewildered. "I wasn't fatally wounded or anything."
Ron heard his mother sigh and whisper something about sons. She turned back to the stove and stirred the chicken soup. As Mrs. Weasley stirred she looked over her shoulder, "sit right there, this will be ready in a minute," she spoke, gesturing at the table.
Having forgotten that there had been anybody else in the room, Ron turned to other occupants of the room, who were all sitting at the tables.
"Err… hi," Ron greeted, feeling suddenly awkward. There weren't too many people at the table, just McGonagall, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Aberforth, and Andrea.
"Close call Weasley, messing with vampires is dirty business," Moody growled in his usual manner, yanking out a chair.
"Yeah, it was," Ron replied, looking around at all of them.
He noticed that they all looked worried about something, and that Andrea wasn't even looking at him. Warning lights immediately went off in Ron's head. He realized that there was one very important person missing. Where was Hermione?
"She's fine, she's just asleep. Yeah, that's it, she's asleep," Ron assured himself, taking a hesitant seat next to Moody.
Ron cleared his throat and looked at Andrea, sensing that the rest were waiting for something.
"I saw Jabir," Ron said, speaking to Andrea.
"I suppose you did," she replied, huskily.
"The rest?"
"Dead. Teddy, Markus, Clyde, Frank, and Worthington: all dead. And now she's gone, and it's all my fault," Andrea whispered bitterly.
Ron stared at her, not speaking, and hoping that he had misunderstood what she had said. From what she said, Ron could only infer that Andrea meant Hermione. "No! It is a mistake! It can't be true!" Ron screamed in his head, not moving as Andrea stared down at her hands.
"Hermione's gone! All right, she's gone! Stop looking at me like a deer looks at an oncoming broom!" Andrea yelled, standing up so hurriedly that her chair was knocked to the floor.
Andrea then fled from the room, her face buried in her hands as she sobbed. Ron continued to sit, staring, glassy eyed, at where Andrea had just been. It took the touch of one of his mother's warm hands to snap him out of it.
"What happened?" Ron asked, trying to control his anger and his overwhelming urge to hit something, namely the table.
Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath and started to speak. "They're fairly certain she has been captured."
Ron's stomach went to his throat; he didn't even open his mouth, he was afraid if he did, he would start bawling like a girl. To Ron, this was the ultimate failure.
"I should have done something, but I didn't," Ron thought, mournfully to himself.
They began to tell him everything that Andrea had told them. Ron already knew most of it, but he did get to hear about their escape after he was rendered unconscious. Ron was amazed that Jabir and Andrea even were able to escape. When they were done, and Ron had eaten as much as he could, Mrs. Weasley insisted that he go back to bed. He protested strongly, but out of sheer exhaustion, Ron went.
When Ron woke up again, it was the next day and Hermione still had not been found. The redhead was more than worried for Hermione; he was terrified. By his mother's orders Ron spent all that day in bed; even though his back had healed, Mrs. Weasley felt it necessary to keep her son confined to a bed. She was less worried about his health and more worried about him going to look for Hermione. The urge to jump rashly into things and to search for her was nearly overpowering. Of course no one yet knew that Ron and Hermione were actually a couple. Even if Ron had thought to do so, he probably wouldn't have told his family and the Order that the two were an item without Hermione's permission.
Thankfully, Ron wasn't without company that day; someone was almost always there with him. If no one had been there to keep his mind off of Hermione, he would later reminisce how they kept him from pulling his own hair out. He saw and had a long conversation with Harry and George about the good old days, (mostly Quidditch). Ron also saw a Ginny frequently; she went in and out all day long, seeing if he needed anything and fussing over him. Ron, unknowingly, had forgotten how much his little sister was like their mother. The Order of the Phoenix had also stopped by the infirmary to question Ron. Sadly, he couldn't tell them anything that they didn't already know.
After that first day, another past with no word about Hermione. Ron was allowed to leave the infirmary, but little had actually changed; a close eye was always kept on him. Ron sulked and once again pleaded with the Order to let him find Hermione, it did no good. It was on the third day that marked Hermione's return.
Harry yawned and turned back over in bed, trying to find a comfortable position; this position was not to be found though. He angrily turned once more, this time onto his back. Part of the problem was the old, worn down mattress, but the main problem was he just couldn't shut off his brain and go to sleep. His mind was running through all the time he had spent with Ron the past couple of days. It was strange to think of how they had matured, how they had grown older. Harry had not seen his best mate in so long; that the only Ron he knew was a Chuddly Cannons fanatic, who dreaded potions class. He had not realized how much they had all changed…
Realizing that it was futile to lie there any longer, Harry threw back his sheets and rose from the creaking bed. He threw on a robe to cover his pajamas, slipped on his slippers, and exited his room. He made the familiar walk to the kitchen, he knew the way so well that his feet almost automatically carried him there. It didn't take him long to arrive, but when he did he was disappointed. The kitchen was occupied by an engrossed, snogging Remus and Tonks. Harry cursed softly and tiptoed away from the entrance of the kitchen.
"Well there goes my night-time snack. Couldn't even get to a room," Harry huffed to himself, as he turned and this time headed for the library.
This room, too was occupied, but, thankfully, not by snogging couples. The woman he had seen very little of, Ms. Gibbers, was sitting in one of the three chairs, looking preoccupied. Harry's eyes widened and wondered if he should enter or not. He was still contemplating this when she turned around to face him.
"If you want to come in, just do it," Andrea spoke, curtly.
Harry's cheeks turned red with embarrassment, he hadn't known that she knew he was standing in the doorway.
"Err… thanks," Harry replied, hands jammed into the pockets of his robe, as he sidled in.
He had never talked with Andrea and didn't know what to say as he approached one of the bookshelves and took down one of books he had been shifting through for the last couple of days. It was, like most of the others, worn with age and use; it had been one of the twin's old books, a study on the Quidditch teams of Britain. He sat down, with the book, on the last chair available, the one right across from Andrea. Harry opened the book and turned to his dog-eared page he had been reading the night before, and began to read, or at least try. He sat, staring blurry eyed at the page.
"Your book's upside down," she informed him with one well-shaped eyebrow.
Harry laughed nervously and turned the book right side up and once again tried to read, this time having a little more success. He had only read one paragraph, though, when the other person in the room spoke once again.
"Ron failed to mention that he was friends with the Harry Potter," said Andrea, looking at him with curious eyes.
"Oh he did, did he," Harry answered, becoming increasingly annoyed by her stare.
"Yes, he did. I wondered why he didn't want me to take him all the way to where he was going. 'You don't have to' he said 'we wouldn't to be a burden.' I knew he was hiding something. I knew his "bothering" us was total shit," Andrea stated.
"Your very perceptive," Harry muttered for a lack of anything better to say.
"Well, that is my job, or at least it was. It's turned out that I'm actually terrible at it," she shrugged.
There was silence for the next several minutes. The air was tense and Harry was about to get up and leave when there was a sudden, loud wail.
"What the hell was that?" Andrea exclaimed, clapping her hands over her ears from the noise. Harry did the same as his mind raced. He knew what that wail meant and it was never a good thing.
"It means there's an intruder!" Harry yelled to Andrea over the terrible racket.
"A what?" Andrea yelled back, not hearing what he had said.
"An intruder!" Harry screamed back.
Andrea still did not understand though, and there was nothing but a puzzled look on her face.
So, Harry tried again.
"There is an intru--oh blast it all!" Harry hollered, growing frustrated, as he pulled her into the hallway, where the din wasn't as load.
"An intruder!"
"Intruder! Well, this certainly is a good way to announce it!" she said sarcastically pulling out her wand. Harry did the same, but then it stopped.
"Why did it stop?" she whispered, her wand at the ready.
"I don't know," Harry began uncertainly, "maybe it was a false alarm, or perhaps they've caught the intruder."
"Well this is a fine kettle of fish," Andrea hissed harshly, "what are we supposed to do?"
Harry couldn't help but role his eyes. "How am I supposed to know?" he whispered, tugging on her sleeve to pull her along.
"Well, maybe because you actually live here or because you are the Harry Potter," Andrea exclaimed, trying to pull her sleeve from his grip. "Would you let go of me!"
Angry at the "the Harry Potter" references, Harry decided not to let her go, in fact, he pulled her along faster. They rounded the last corner to the kitchen. Being extra cautious he flattened himself against the packed, dirt wall and peaked around the corner. Everyone was in the kitchen and they were all grouped in what looked like a huddle around the entrance to their cavern. Seeing everyone, Harry was about to enter the kitchen, when he realized there was somebody else among them: a stranger.
Harry's eyes widened and wondered if this stranger was a friend or a foe. He looked to be a friend, but Harry had been fooled in the past, and he wasn't to be fooled again.
"Potter! Get out here!" Moody barked, his magical having seen him.
Feeling that everything was now safe, Harry finally came forward, with Andrea in tow (he was no longer holding her sleeve). The stranger was the tallest person he had seen besides Hagrid and was probably the palest He knew they were pale, but not that pale, the man looked like walking chalk with blond hair. Harry got a strange feeling from the man, he couldn't explain it, but it was unsettling. But then his unsettling feeling went to confusion and shock, as Ron suddenly exploded.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?" Ron yelled, it was more like screaming actually, as he launched himself toward the stranger.
"No Ron!" Mr. Weasley yelled, grabbing on to his son's arm.
Ron struggled but others soon grabbed on to him, including Ginny. In just a few moments, Harry realized why Ron had freaked out; Harry had seen men like these in his Defense Against the Dark Arts books. The stranger was a vampire. Harry looked around wildly, but saw no others, instead to his horror he saw Hermione lying unconscious on the table.
"Stop it everyone! He's a friend, an ally. He means us no harm," Mr. Weasley intervened as various wands began to point at the vampire's heart.
They faltered at Mr. Weasley's outburst.
"He's one of my informants. Remember I said I would contact people to find Hermione," Mr. Weasley reminded them, looking entirely distressed.
"Have you gone mad?" Harry asked Mr. Weasley, shocked.
"No I assure, he has not gone mad, in fact he is quite sane. If you would just let me explain. I am unarmed and all I have done is save her," the vampire informed them, gesturing toward Hermione, still unconscious.
Everyone gasped and looked at Hermione, they, in the commotion, had forgotten she was there.
"I think that we should help Hermione first and then Derek and I will explain," Mr. Weasley said looking hopeful.
They all murmured in agreement, except for Ron, who hadn't heard a word Mr. Weasley had just said.
A/N: Sorry about the late update (again). This time it actually wasn't the chapter, I wrote this one with no trouble. But some stuff got in the way (mostly a family crisis, which thankfully is over). And for the last two or three days I couldn't log in to actually post the chapter, because did not want to work. :(
Thank you to everyone for reviewing!