Chapter Eleven

Hermione had been avoiding doing this for days. As much as she loved Hagrid and loved spending time with him, she had tried to dodge his gaze when he had been trying to catch her attention at dinner last night but her attempts had failed and he had invited her for a cup of tea this morning.

The panic rose within her as she made her way through the castle grounds to break the news to her friend that she would not be carrying on with Care of Magical Creatures.

"'ermione," he beamed as he beckoned her in.

Fang sniffed around her and followed her to her seat. When she sat down she stroked the enormous dog. Fang jumped up on to her as his gigantic, slobbering tongue licked her face. She struggled against his weight pressing down on her to wipe her face.

"Down, fang," Hagrid snarled. The dog looked up at him wit his huge drooping eyes as Hagrid rolled his. "Stupid dog," he muttered as he moved over to pet him.

Hermione watched as Hagrid clambered about making two extra large mugs of tea. He sat the two extreme stong teas on the table and sat down in his armchair beside her.

"It's good t' see ye," Hagrid smiled.

Hermione flushed. "I'm sorry I haven't been down in a while," she started

Hagrid interrupted. "It's alright, Hermione. I know." He nodded and smiled kindly.

"I just…"

"It's fine. I've spoken to Professor McGonagall, I know."

"I'm sorry," she replied as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"It's okay," Hagrid reassured her. "You've got to do this for you, 'ermione, no one else."

Hermione nodded as she smiled at the unmeasurably kind man. "Thank you, Hagrid."

"Don' think on it," he waved her off. "So how're things goin' now?"

"Good so far, I think,"

Hermione relaxed and enjoyed catching up with her friend. Hagrid could chatter away for hours, which suited Hermione. She had always preferred to be a listener.

"I almos' forgo' to tell ye," he said as he sat forward with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "I've spoken to tha' bloke again,"

Hermione looked at him blankly for a moment as she struggled to catch on.

"Yeh know about the elf," He nodded with encouragement.

"Oh, yeah," Hermione had tried to push all memory of her from her mind. She'd had the same dream now every night for a week, that elfs gaze haunted her so she wasn't all that keen to relive the memory of their meeting.

"Well 'es keen to go, wants to search the forest. I've arranged it for nex' Saturday. Ye can come if you like," he said hopefully.

Hermione downed three mugs of tea before she could no longer ignore the pains of hunger. She had skipped breakfast to visit Hagrid and missed dinner last night. Hagrid offered her a plate of his homemade rock cakes but she could hear her parents warnings about her teeth ringing in her ears and politely declined.

"I should get going for lunch," she said as she set her cup down.

"Yeh, I'll walk up wi' ye, hang on," Hagrid turned his back to her and fiddled about with something in his pocket before placing several items on his bed.

"Come on then,"

Hermione wrapped her cloak tightly around her to shield herself from the icy bite to the wind. It was time to dig out the winter cloak, she thought. Hermione jogged to keep up with Hagrid's massive strides but was grateful, anything to get back to the castle as fast as possible.

Hagrid waved goodbye as she went off down the Gryffindor table and he to the teachers table. The only space she could squeeze into was next to Lavender Brown who sat with her back to her snogging Ron.

"There's food here," Hermione muttered to herself.

"I know it's terrible Harry,"

Hermione looked up to see Ginny reaching across the table trying to comfort Harry. He was sat rigid with his elbows on the tables and his fists balled as he nervously bit the nail of his one exposed thumb.

"What is it? What's happened?" Hermione gasped.

Ginny turned to her, "Haven't you heard the news?" She rustled in her rucksack and pulled out the mornings edition of the daily prophet. She thrust it at Hermione.

Beloved Landlady Reported Missing

Madame Rosemerta, Landlady of The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade was reported missing late last night by concerned bar staff.

"She went out the back at about 10pm to take the rubbish out and just never came back," Bar man Steven Turvey told us. "There was no sign of a disturbance or anything. It was like she just vanished into thin air,"

Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic released this statement early this morning.

"While this latest disappearance comes as a shock to us all, I urge you not to jump to any conclusions. There is no evidence of foul play in the disappearance of Madame Rosemerta and reports of sightings of the dark mark are entirely false and should not be believed. The ministry is doing all that we can to investigate the circumstances and we are optimistic that our beloved Landlady will soon be found."

The Minster's words do not reassure us here at The Daily Prophet. In times like these it is all too easy to jump to conclusions. Madame Rosemerta is a skilled witch renowned for her duelling skills. What other explanation can there be if not the work of You-know-who?

Of course this news is all the more troubling when one thinks of the close proximity of this attack to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardary. Concerned parents will be devastated by this latest blow and it would be no surprise if the school sees a sudden drop in the number of students.

"That's terrible," Hermione said as she put the paper down. No one responded. Ron was still locked in a rather slobbery looking embrace beside her and Ginny had turned to speak with her friend who sat a few seats down.

"Are you okay, Harry," Hermione asked as she leant to see him.

""Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered without returning her gaze. The plate in front of him was empty, he made no effort of a pretence of an appetite.

Harry turned to nudge Ron.

Ron pulled himself away from the reluctant Lavender to turn to his friend. Harry whispered something to him.

Hermione felt something stab through her heart. Rejection, perhaps?

Ron nodded before turning back to his girlfriend.

Lavender leant in to carry on where they had left off but Ron held her back.

"Err, can you err… can you give us a minute? You know...alone," he stuttered.

Lavender was overly dramatic in her offence and stormed away from the table. Ron shrugged.

"Good," Harry sighed but Ron did not notice.

Hermione inched in closer to Ron as Harry spoke to them.

"Can you meet me in the library during dinner?" He asked them

"During dinner?" Ron spluttered. "But we've gotta eat,"

Harry pointed to Ron's plate that was piled high with sandwiches, sausage rolls and pork pies. "What are you doing now? Yes during dinner. I want to be alone."

"Yeah but.." Ron started but Hermione interrupted.

"Why Harry?"

"We need to talk,"

"Okay," she nodded with curiosity. Ron remained silent but nodded his agreement too.

Harry and Ron were still in the Great Hall when she left and she didn't see either of them again until dinner.

She spent her afternoon studying in the only place she was guaranteed any peace, her bed. She really should have been writing her letter, her week limit was up in just a few hours but as much as she did not want to be penalised she couldn't bring herself to do it. She was mortified at her mini breakdown but she was even more mortified with the response.

For someone who protested he could read her well got her entirely wrong. He was so pig-ignorant.

How could she reply now? What could she say?

Hermione pushed the thought to the back of her mind.

Harry was already in the library when she arrived. Hermione took a seat at his table. "What's this about Harry?"

"We may as well wait for Ron," he replied stiffly clutching his back-back.

The only spin on the library was that of Harry's foot tapping as they sat waiting for Ron. Five minutes late, he casually strolled in.

"Everything alright mate?" Ron asked as he sank into a chair.

"Yeah, Harry, are you going to tells us what is going on?"

Harry pulled the mornings edition of the daily prophet and pointed to the article on the disappearance of made Rosemary's "this," he said as he reached into his back to pull out what appeared to be a stack of articles ripped out from the paper, "and this...and this," he said as he laid them all out on the table.

Hermione scanned the articles, all were reports of disappearances and attacks.

"Can't you see they are all connected and he is targeting them one by one," Harry said desperately trying to get them to see the connection that he had already made.

Hermione chewed on her lip as she looked around the table. "I'm sorry Harry but I don't see it'"

"This one." Harry angrily pointed his finger at a picture of a smiling, waving middle aged man. "Adrian Witten, he used to be in the Order of the Phoenix."

"How do you know," Ron muttered.

Harry looked up from the table and replied seriously. "I saw him in an old photo, Madame Rosmerta too. And this one," he grabbed another article. "Mr Toadbank, he was an old colleague of Dumbledore's,"

Hermione stared at Harry, still not seeing the connection, other than they were the ones fighting him. Harry rolled his eyes slightly as he turned to Hermione.

"It's obvious isn't it, he's coming after me."

"Oh, Harry. I mean it's entirely possible that you know who is targeting these people because of the order but it doesn't necessarily mean he's coming after you." She tried to reassure him.

"How can you believe that after what I told you, Hermione."

Ever since the day Harry had told her of the prophecy, Hermione had thought and researched about it for hours and she still wasn't sure what to think. But Harry was right if Voldemort believed in it, he was certainly going to seek Harry out at some point but she didn't believe that he would do it now, while Harry was still at Hogwarts, whilst he was still under Dumbledore s protection. Didn't they say that Dumbledore was the only wizard alive that scared him? And Harry did have a tendency to jump Head first into his theories without properly analysing the situation.

Hermione eyed her friend sceptically.

Harry huffed. "I know he is coming, Hermione, believe me."

"But... but what are you gonna do," Ron spluttered.

Harry looked down at the articles spread out on the table and sighed. "I don't know yet. I need a plan."

Ron turned to Hermione expectantly.

"Don't look at me," she scoffed.

"But you're always the one who solves these kinds of things." He replied looking at her optimistically.

Hermione ignored Ron and focused on Harry. "Look I understand where you are coming from Harry but we are not actually sure yet, that he is coming for you."

Harry looked up and glared at her. "He is Hermione,"

"You don't know that," she said her voice getting louder.

A dark look took over his face as he replied. "I hope he does and soon before anyone else gets hurt," Harry spat.

Ron gasped.

"Harry you don't mean that," Hermione shrieked.

"Yes I do. People are getting killed because of me. I need to find a way to stop him before someone else dies. Who is going to be next? You, Ron, Ginny, Lupin? I can't let that happen."

Hermione took a step towards her friend and reached out to touch his hand comfortingly. "Harry these people are not dying because of you. You cannot shoulder the blame for the terrible things that are happening. They are down to him and his band of maniacal followers no one else. It is not down to you to protect us all,"

"Of course it's down to me," Harry erupted with anger. "Neither can live while the other survives. What else do you think that means. This has been down to me since before I was born,"

"Harry, you are giving to much credence to this prophecy. Trelawney is a proven old fraud; even Professor McGonagall says the subject should be taken with a pinch of salt."

Harry looked down at the table, shaking his head; his fingers were whites as they curled into a fist. "Even Dumbledore says it's true,"

Hermione could not control her rage, with her shoulders squared she stood erect and defensive. How could he not see what she saw? He was being irrational. She had thought Harry would have learnt his lesson after what had happened at the Ministry but here he was again.

His attitude scared her. She feared for the day he would do something stupid but it seemed to be creeping closer and closer.

"No! From what you told me, Dumbledore said that because he believed in the prophecy, you-know-who sought you out and tried to kill you when you were a baby."

"What does it matter, Hermione? Whether the prophecy is true or because he believes in it he is coming for me, why are you not understanding that?"

Hermione shook her head with disbelief. "It does matter, Harry," she protested.

"How, Hermione? What difference could that possibly make?" Harry scoffed. "Voldemort still wants to kill me."

"Yes he does Harry, because he believes in the prophecy,"

Harry scoffed and stared at her blankly. "Exactly,"

Hermione continued ingnoring the interruption. "But that does not make it real. You saw the hall of prophecies, there were hundreds of thousands of predictions and only a select few had ever rung true. You-know-who might be after you, Harry. If he puts any stock in divination and prophecy, he almost certainly is- but that does not mean that you have to go after him."

"What?" Harry spluttered. "You're not making any sense,"

"I'm making perfect sense. Yes; just because he believes in the prophecy but that doesn't make it true. Can't you see the difference? You don't have to go after him. The order are working to fight him, the Ministry are too, well… It is not down to you alone to stop to him just because he believes it is."

"If you don't want to help me that's fine," Harry spat as he roughly gathered up his newspaper clippings and stuffed them into the inside pocket of his robes. "I'll find a way to do it on my own,"

"Harry, you're not listening to me…" Hermione started but before she could say any more Harry had stored off towards the library's exit.

Ron hovered for a moment torn over what to do. He turned to Hermione with a sympathetic smile and shrug before ultimately deciding to follow his friend to the exit.

Hermione watched them leave as tears of frustration welled up and began to flow down her cheeks.