AN: I'M BACK! AND BETTER!
After the last update, I was going to use my day off school to write some more but then I was sick everywhere and I had delirium and I couldn't even see when the lights were on in a room, never mind stare at a computer screen for hours whilst writing another chapter.
I just wanted to say- WOW! You guys are all so talented and imaginative! I would say that you should write your own fanfictions with all your awesome ideas… But then I'm scared you'll ditch mine because yours would all be so much better ahah!
They've really helped! Really, really helped! And it means that I've managed to plan the next FIVE chapters- that is how good you are!
I'm really proud of this one, and the scenes in this chapter are kind of imperative, so I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them!
Chapter 29- The Operation
Hermione stood outside the office, staring at the eagle with a sense of mild trepidation.
She didn't dislike Dumbledore, but she didn't trust him. In her younger years, she had idolised him with an unveiled astonishment, for he was the person who had started everything. That one simple letter had been signed by him, in the emerald ink on the parchment, delivered by the owl that had tried to eat her dad's toupee. He was the embodiment of magic, of safety. Dumbledore had been the symbol of hope for so long…
Until he wasn't. Until he fell from the top of the tower. Until his killer's memories revealed the truth.
And despite everything she knew, despite her better judgement, she couldn't help but feel awed by him. He was everything Hogwarts was meant to be; his inspirational speeches, his twinkling eyes, his reassuring way of always knowing what to do and what to say.
Now, though, Hermione wasn't sure what he could possibly have to say. And she couldn't contain the worry eating away at her. He'd called her up to his office- there was no way it was just for tea and biscuits. She hardly believed that the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had called her up for a gossip.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair, before she resignedly said the password. The revolving stairs seemed to go on forever, and it was with great difficulty and reservation that she eventually came to stand outside of the doors.
Lifting her hand up to knock, they clicked open of their own accord, swinging wide to reveal Dumbledore sat behind his desk. He looked like he always did, that indescribable familiarity brimming in his blue eyes, and wrinkled face. He motioned for her to sit down. The doors closed behind her.
"Miss Granger," he greeted, smiling amicably. He gestured to the small ornate bowl of sweets in front of her. "Lemon drop?"
"Oh, no," Hermione said, and did as she was told. "Thank you."
Dumbledore helped himself to one, and he seemed to take his time, leisurely unwrapping the sweet and observing it before he put it in his mouth. She shifted in her chair, wishing he'd get to the point. She was starting to sweat.
"How are you?"
Almost closing her eyes in exasperation (she really couldn't handle this small talk), Hermione smiled and said carefully, "Very well. And yourself?"
"Good, good," the Headmaster replied. He interlocked his fingers on the desk. "And school is going well, I hope?"
"Yes," she said. "Well, at least, when I'm actually there, it is."
Dumbledore's lips quirked. "You do seem to have spent a considerable amount of time in the Hospital Wing. Fear not, Miss Granger, I'm sure your incredible academic ability prevents you from falling behind."
Hermione blushed, looking away. "Thank you."
There was silence, in which Hermione took the chance to survey the office. She couldn't remember actually coming in here that much in her time- she'd never had reason to, but she was surprised to find it very eccentric.
Honestly, she didn't know why. It was Dumbledore, after all.
The shelves were stacked and filled with a mismatched assortment of various objects with buttons and knobs and retractable arms. There were glass vials filled with all sorts of strange colours and picture frames wedged between old books and remembralls.
A tall wooden and empty perch stood near the bottom of some stairs to a higher level, where the walls were encompassed with books, and there was a small pile of ash underneath it. She frowned. The black heap marred the floor, and yet Dumbledore hadn't cleaned it up yet.
Then it started to move.
A small head poked out of the ashes, beak opening and closing as it tried to chirp. Its eyes were shut tight, and the tiny wings fluttered without purpose. There was something delicate and touching about the display, and even though the bird was blind and flightless and more than likely unable to even walk, Hermione couldn't help but think that she was seeing one of the most powerful creatures she would ever see.
"Fawkes," Dumbledore said quietly.
"A Phoenix," she breathed. Her eyes were wide and locked on the chick. "Born from the ashes of its previous life."
There was something poetic about it, she thought; dying to live and living to die, over and over again, never knowing if the cycle would ever truly end.
Something sad about it too.
She resumed in her perusal of the room and found that everything seemed to belong anywhere but the place it resided. The previous Headmasters snoozed in their portraits, completely disinterested in the real world. Hermione couldn't blame them.
"Speaking of that," Dumbledore continued and she dragged her eyes to him. "Have you discovered the identity of your boggart yet, Miss Granger?"
Hermione opened her mouth to speak but everything died on her lips. Draco, Voldemort, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter-
The Future never left her tongue.
"No."
Dumbledore watched her. He raised his chin in a slight nod of understanding, and his eyes never left her face (which she was sure must be straining to be normal at this point).
He was a brilliant wizard, perhaps the most brilliant on the planet, in the history of magic even! But there were some things that you just couldn't tell adults without the risk of them fucking it up… and saving the world was one of them.
"I see. And have you considered what I told you?"
Hermione frowned. "About what, sir?"
"About time, Miss Granger..." He trailed off, staring at her. He looked to be deep in thought and when he spoke next, his voice was precariously balanced. As though the weight of the world did not rest on this conversation, on these two people in this very room.
"Fawkes is a Phoenix, Miss Granger. He is meant to die. He is meant to be engulfed in the torturous mouth of fire and anguish before he can be salvaged. In his transition, he experiences unimaginable pain, more profound than any he has ever felt before... All to be reborn. And this happens... Because it is meant to happen. The universe transpires to ensure that Fawkes goes up in flames and is reborn in ashes. Because it is meant to be.
"If you could, would you stop the transition? Would you prevent him from feeling pain? Would you save him of his torture?"
Hermione, unsure of where this was going, nodded. The thought of the poor animal going through hell for no justifiable reason made her sick. What was the point in dying if all you gained from it was a life you didn't ask for?
Dumbledore went on, "But stopping the transition means that the bird will never again rise from the ashes. Faulkes will go up in flames, and he will remain a pile of nothing. He will die. Forever. And there will be no more birdsong, no more extraordinary acts of healing, no more company for a lonely old man.
"Would you really want to be responsible for all of that beauty being ripped from the world? Simply because you saw what happened ahead of it happening?"
Hermione stayed silent. She had no idea why he was telling her this. Why did the death and birth of a bird matter?
Of course, she would want to stop the pain. She was a House Elf Activist for crying out loud! But could she really decide whether the Phoenix got to live or die? Could she really dictate that? Could she really play God?
Her mind spun.
"Professor," Hermione said and her eyebrows were carefully knitted together as she looked at him. She licked her lips, considering her words. "What are you trying to say?"
Dumbledore regarded her with an indecipherable caution in his blue eyes. "Remember what I told you, Miss Granger. Time is fragile. It is set in its ways. Until now, there has never been the choice to rewrite the path to the future. It has always been momentary. There has never been insight to the events that lie before us. We have never had reason to truly fear whether the choices we make are right or wrong. We have merely ventured on, prevailing on this journey, following the thread of our lives that is already laid out for us...
"Time is an intricate balance. It is a thread, a loop of string; if you so much as touch it, you cannot possibly predict the tangles that will inevitable occur. And nobody likes a thread with tangles, Hermione. Nobody prefers complications to the straightforward."
Her face tightened on its own accord, and she tilted her head slightly. "Are you telling me that I have to sit here, when I could do so much more, and let everything roll out as planned? Let everyone 'follow their threads?' Let my friends, the people I love, die…?"
Her eyes grew wet and outrage sparked in her stomach at the mere thought of it.
The Headmaster bowed his head, glancing away. The truth of it felt like a blow to her gut. Hermione swallowed and managed to utter, "Sir, what you're asking is impossible-"
"Not impossible, Miss Granger," Dumbledore countered firmly, and his voice was the hardest she had ever heard it. "Merely unsavoury."
She stared at him, silence fuelling her fury. Eventually, she said, "Time is a human concept; it doesn't exist without us." Licking her lips, the desperation tainted her words and they came out as an only half-confident plea. "If we can create it, we can control it."
Dumbledore merely stared back at her. And his voice was low and unmoving when he said:
"We can also destroy it, Miss Granger."
Hermione stood up abruptly, and the chair flew backwards, skidding onto the floor. Faulkes squawked in surprise.
She wasn't crying but her eyes felt hot and she wiped at her face anyway. Without looking at him, Hermione mumbled, "Well, it was nice speaking to you, professor," before she stormed out of the room.
She wasn't fully aware of what she was doing, or even where she was going to go, only that she couldn't bear to stay in the same place as Dumbledore for any longer. Hermione flew down the stairs, face tight, lips pursed, trying desperately to bottle down her anger. How could he say that? How could he presume that of her? How could he ask her to condemn innocent people to a future destined to burn?
You're just going to let it burn.
No, Hermione thought. The voice in her head was adamant, like a silent promise that she had reiterated to herself countless times… Never had she meant it like this, though.
Her hand loosely trailed down the banister, and she swung around the end of it once the eagle spun open, propelling herself into the corridor and straight into Remus.
Withdrawing, she regarded him with wide eyes, and his hands steadied her, gripping the tops of her arms. Hermione hadn't been this close to him in a while.
"Hi," he smiled down at her, all wonky.
"Hello," she smiled in reply, all breathless.
"Hi," Peter said, poking his head over Remus' shoulder. He was grinning lopsidedly. She frowned. Remus coughed and let her go.
"Are you all here?" Peering around them both (they were too tall for her to look over), she saw Sirius and James further along the corridor, playing with their wands, sending sparks of reds and blues dissipating into the air. "Why are you all here?"
Peter raised his eyebrows at her and said, "Well, you didn't come back from Charms, so we decided to ask where you went, you know, just in case, and Mary said Dumbledore had called you up so we came here to wait for you."
Hermione melted at his earnest voice and droopy eyes, and her fury left her. She reached for him, wrapping her arms around his torso. He froze, visibly alarmed, before he slowly let an arm drape around her back.
They moved over to stand next to the other two boys, who were talking about something.
"-got these huge ti- Hermione!"
Sirius lit up when he saw her, breaking off sheepishly and his magical duck that had been quacking through the air before him scattered into nothing.
She raised an eyebrows. "Huge what now?"
"How was your chat with Dumbles?" James asked, hastily steering the conversation away from her question. She faltered.
The truth threatened to spill out of her, but one look from James had it crawling back down her throat and instead, she said, "Fine. He just wanted to see how I was settling in."
Peter was staring at her, and she wondered if he could feel the erratic beat of her heart. Hermione swallowed, tilting her head and repeated, "Huge what now?"
Remus coughed, and Sirius' cheeks slowly turned red. "Nothing, darling, that you should worry your little head over."
His smile was sickly sweet and she noticed.
Although he wasn't much taller than her (only a few inches), Peter still had to duck his head to whisper, "That's just Sirius for you."
Remus raised an eyebrow and said dryly, "Which translates to an archetypal male who frequently comments on the voluptuous nature of women's breasts."
"That's disgusting," Hermione chastised. Sirius looked scandalised, but he recovered quickly.
"Oh please, Granger," Sirius replied, cocky in an instant. He gestured to himself. "Look at this! No one could ever resist this!"
Nose wrinkling, she said distastefully, "Don't be so sure of that."
"What are you talking about, Mione?" A girl's voice called down the corridor, and all five of them spun around. Hermione still had her arms around Peter and as he twisted round, she was dragged along with him. A huff of air escaped her lips and he muttered a sheepish apology.
They spotted Marlene and Lily coming towards them. Marlene was the one talking, and she had a sly grin stretching her bright lips. "Clearly you've never seen him try to eat the legendary ten tiered chocolate ganache Christmas cake the House Elves make each year. How any girl can resist that is beyond me!"
Whilst the others laughed, Sirius nodded sulkily and said, "Yes, laugh it up. You're all jealous. You just can't handle my attractiveness. I could pull any girl in this school. Watch me."
Remus scoffed and his eyes were bright as he said, "Please, most of them aren't even your type."
Sirius made a very rude hand gesture in reply. Remus raised an eyebrow, as if this proved everything.
No one else interfered for a second, and the two boys stared at each other.
"Well," Marlene announced, hooking her arm through Lily's, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet during this entire exchange. "Best get going. Someone has places to be and people to see."
"Meeting up with Diggory to have a rematch of tonsil tennis?" Sirius asked scathingly.
She smiled sharply at him. "You're positively green, Sirius. Just because I'm actually getting some action. When was the last time you got some? In fact, don't answer that. It will probably just make me sad for you and I'm not feeling overly hospitable today."
He didn't look at Hermione. She didn't look at him.
"I would give you a pity snog, but apparently, I'm not your type," she said. "And for your information," Marlene continued, pulling Lily roughly to her side. "I was talking about Lily! She's got a date!"
The effect was immediate. Sirius' jaw dropped. Remus cringed. Hermione felt her heart go cold. Peter let out a small "Oh." James stared at Lily. Lily stared at the floor.
"With who?" Sirius asked, outraged.
"With Bernie Perkins."
"Bernie!?" Sirius repeated deliriously, and he actually looked faint. "Bernie- Bernie bloody Perkins?! The Hufflepuff-? The Hufflepuff?!"
Marlene pursed her lips. "He's actually very nice."
"He is," Lily offered weakly, but this seemed to be only to reassure Marlene, so nobody really took notice of her.
"He's a bloody Puff!"
"Interhouse bonding," she retorted coolly. "Not everyone is a die-hard, head-up-their-own-arse Gryffindor!"
Sirius' mouth dropped even lower than last time, until it looked to be swallowed by his neck. He mouthed barbarity, but only managed to splutter, "Get out of my sight! I can't even look at you right now!"
Marlene raised an eyebrow. "Gladly."
She readjusted her grasp on Lily, who was still frightfully subdued. Hermione made note of the fact that she hadn't looked at James once during the encounter. She prayed to God that this meant what she thought it did.
"Traitor," Peter muttered for good measure just before the two girls left. Marlene shot him a glare that had him recoiling back with Hermione.
"God, she's such a bitch," Sirius said as soon as they were out of sight. But although the words were mean and said in one breath of air, as though he had been restraining himself from saying it, they all knew he didn't mean it. Well, he did, because it was true- Marlene was a bitch, but she was their bitch, so it was okay.
Peter turned to James, who was staring at his feet. "You okay Prongs?"
James looked up, and his eyes were wide, as though he wasn't all there. "Yeah," he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. Erm, I'm just gonna go finish off some homework. I'll see you guys later, yeah?"
He didn't even wait for a reply, merely took off down the other end of the corridor, hands shoved deep in his pockets, drooped shoulders and dejected stature making him look like he was feeling very sorry for himself, indeed.
oOoOoOo
"I have an idea!" Sirius announced suddenly, and his eyes lit up with something bright and dangerous. The remaining four of them were in the boys' dormitory, where they had retired to, and had been left pondering the situation at hand.
"No," Remus immediately replied, eyebrows raised. He was leaning against the large chest of drawers on one side of the room and his voice was firm. He shook his head for emphasis, barely budging when Sirius deflated. He pouted.
"You didn't even let me finish!"
"With all due respect, Padfoot, the last time we listened to one of your ideas, it ended in homicide," Remus said. A snort erupted from the blanket mountain that was Peter. Hermione's eyes widened.
Sirius made an incensed noise, assuming an affronted expression. "Only theoretically! And this one might've ended differently!"
Straight to the point, Remus asked, "Did it?"
Opening his mouth, no words came out and Sirius' face contorted. He tilted his head to the side, scrunching up his nose. Eventually, he said, "No…"
But the slow way he said it and his refusal to meet anyone's gaze, had Hermione thinking otherwise.
"Homicide?" She repeated, raising her eyebrows at him. "I- just- homicide?"
Remus glanced at her and said, "He has issues. We call it his People Problems. You know, when he can't stand being within a metre of people, when he wants to kill everyone in his sight… You get the idea."
Sirius shot him a look, and expressed indignantly, "You are painting me out to be very deranged. I swear, I'm not as unstable as what it seems. I only felt that urge once… And I didn't act on it!"
He said this last bit as though he had achieved something spectacular, as if not everyone could supress the urge to kill, as if anyone else had those urges anyway.
Peter was staring at him with a cautious look of bewilderment printed on his face.
"How do you even have friends?" He questioned slowly, like the fact genuinely puzzled him. Hermione snorted.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sirius said. "I'm a very friendly person."
Hermione added, "Who sometimes has urges to kill people for no particular reason."
"Hey! I said I didn't act on it!"
"People Problems," Remus said knowingly, flourishing his hands and he exchanged a look with Peter, whose grin shone from inside the duvet cocoon he had made for himself.
"Do you want to hear my plan or not?"
Hermione stared, letting her unsure eyes rest on each of them. Their plan before had been brilliant. It had pushed her, it had sparked something deep within her, it had made her feel alive and free and young.
But this was different; this was messing with two people's lives! Albeit, these people were meant to be together, but that really wasn't the point here! The point was they couldn't interfere!
Could they?
She sucked in her lips, folding her arms across her chest. Nobody would get hurt- least of all James and Lily, as the Marauders wouldn't even risk that being a liability! And sure, Sirius could be a little… dramatic, sometimes, but Remus was always there to balance him out and Peter sided with whoever had the most food (which was often the werewolf, who appeared to keep a hidden stash of sweets under his bed).
What could go wrong?
Hermione sighed, tipping her head back. She looked at them all again, just in case she changed her mind, but the decision was cemented in her brain.
"Fine..." She said carefully. Looking pointedly at Sirius, she added, "But no homicide!"
His grin was huge and infectious and he rested his hand over his heart and said, in a mock-solemn voice, "You have my word."
Peter's rambunctious laugh echoed around the dormitory. Sirius jumped on the nearest bed to him, legs crossed, arms gesturing wildly. His eyes were bright.
"Love potion," he proposed. Straight to the point. Pete sobered up. "We spike their drinks. They dance all night, they kiss, maybe James even gets some- OW! No, okay. No, James won't get some, ignore that. But the gist is, they fall madly in love forever and ever and everyone lives in happy harmony. The End."
He rubbed at his head, where Hermione had rightfully lobbed something (she wasn't even sure what) at him. Her disapproval was tangible in the air.
"No."
"No?" Sirius repeated dubiously.
"No," she affirmed.
"No," he wailed.
Hermione's arms were rigid on her hips as she said imperturbably, "Just because you're a natural beauty with the face of a God, does not mean you can go around, willy-nilly, and decide who is going to love who!"
Sirius' face turned smug and sly and he perked up, saying, "You think I have the face of a God?"
He waggled his eyebrows at her.
Hermione went bright red, and she flashed her eyes.
"That was so not the point!"
"Please, continue. Don't let my God-like looks distract you from your course," Sirius said, spreading his arms.
Peter watched her pleasantly and said, "I'm listening, Mione."
Remus sighed.
"You can't- can't force love!" She spluttered indignantly, throwing her arms up in the air. "Love is- it's a natural beauty! You can't just completely remove free will from this! People are supposed to fall in love on their own! Unaided! Without help! Without you! Unaided!"
"Are you broken?" Remus asked politely
She scowled at him. She didn't know why it really bothered her... It was just- James and Lily were supposed to love each other, and not artificially either. It was supposed to be something real, and powerful, more so than magic!
Real and powerful enough so that when a young woman sacrifices herself for her baby, the love is protection enough.
Not that she was going to let that happen.
Sirius pretended to wipe a tear from his eye, and said, "Sweetheart, that was beautiful. Really it was, but we're not forcing anything-"
She scoffed.
"-the potion only enhances what's there."
Hermione paused. She could only utter, "What?"
He grinned and said, "If there is nothing already there, then nothing will ever be there. You can't force love, after all."
Peter bounced up onto his knees on his bed and added eagerly, "Yeah, and it only lasts an hour. It's like a- a kickstart! Like one of those guns that you start horse races with! The horse is gonna run anyway- the gun just sets it off sooner!"
Remus blinked, looking at his friend in a seemingly new light. "You know, that's a surprisingly adept comparison."
Pete blushed, smiling profusely,
Hermione was still unsure.
"Look, Mione," Sirius said, moving closer to her so he could put his hands on her shoulders. "Do you want our best friend, our brother, to die alone?"
"Tad dramatic," she interrupted. He ignored her.
"Do you want him to live until the sorry old age of 102, wondering desperately what would've happened if his four best friends had spiked his potion at the Christmas Ball of '77?"
Hermione exhaled loudly, shaking her head as she said, "Well now you're really exaggerating."
"But you see our point?" Sirius asked.
She sighed, "I guess..."
In slow motion, Peter fist-bumped the air triumphantly, falling backwards onto his bed shouting, "Operation Deerly Beloved!" A cheesy grin was present on his face.
Sirius and Remus exchanged an amused glance, before they both burst out laughing.
Hermione felt a flicker of fear at the madness bound to unravel, but it was drowned out by the coursing euphoria washing through her. Christmas was going to be a very interesting night indeed.
AN: So, this has got to be one of my personal favourites so far! The scene with Dumbledore was very very significant! Not only the explanations, but also some potential foreshadowing going on there. I say potential because I have various different ideas as to where this is going to end up and one of them may involve something in this chapter. I haven't decided yet. I'll give you a hint, just in case I do continue with the idea: a character that is actually very important in the second book, that is going to make a few more appearances later on in this fic...
The only problem is you people want a happy ending, so I still have yet to decide whether to make you complete, or sad... I quite enjoy making people sad... (emotionally, of course... through writing... I don't go around poking people in the eye just to make them cry. I'm not Crowley).
I love writing Marlene and Dumbledore! They're so different! It's so much fun! What were your favourite quotes?
