I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. Some noticeable sections are from 'Lord of the Rings' by J.R.R Tolkien, which again, I do not own.
"Potter, Longbottom, come with me, please! Now!" The Headmistress yelled into the great hall, just as Neville and Harry got up onto the stage to duel each other. Wearing equally worried looks, they clambered off the platform and followed Professor McGonagall from the hall as she led them with a nervous look on her face to the quidditch pitch. When they had reached the grassy pitch, she beckoned down Oliver Wood with a gesture. As he floated down, Harry and Neville gave each other confused looks, sharing the scepticism of the other. "Wood, get Miss Potter down here now, please. It is urgent. And call everyone from the pitch immediately, send them back to their houses now. That includes the prefects. Ah, Miss Potter." The professor barked out as Wood sulked off. At her brother and Neville's mirrored looks of confusion, she narrowed her eyes at McGonagall. "Don't start Miss Potter, I know you would have a match next week, but it will have to be postponed. Come with me, all of you." They followed her without question to the castle and made their way through the winding halls and corridors until they reached the doors to the hospital wing. Harry cocked his head and spoke up, looking at the Headmistress, puzzled as to the absence of Hermione. "Professor, why didn't we go and get Hermione?" She looked down in sorrow and did not make eye contact with her students. Harry knew this telltale sign of guilt. "No. NO! NO!" Harry shouted and pushed the doors open with vigour. There on the far bed in the hospital wing lay Hermione, unmoving and pale on the sheets, stuck in suspended animation.
"You- YOU IDIOT! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?!" he cried, falling to the floor as both Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey tried to ease him from this state. "Mr Potter, calm down. Please. No-one in here did this. She is just petrified." Neville said something inaudible at first, though on repeat, it made perfect sense. "He isn't angry at anyone in here… except himself. They promised each other that if one of them was petrified or worse by the monster, then the other would not pursue it any further for fear of getting each other hurt." Harry fell to his knees, holding the stone Hermione's hand as he dropped to the floor. Anyone with a heart not made of stone would be tearing up too, as they saw the raw sadness and anger that Harry felt. Just as he went to get up, his eyes started to glow a brilliant green in a fit of accidental magic, likely stemming from the anger he felt at himself. The hospital wing was caught up in a hurricane, with bottles falling off the shelves, beds creaking and the doors flapping in the wind, as if desperate to take flight. McGonagall managed to shout over the din to Madam Pomfrey "GET THE KNOCKOUT DRAUGHT NOW!" The matron rushed into her office, battling the blustery winds and emerging steadily with a pale grey solution that seemed to steam when it was uncorked. She handed it carefully over to the transfiguration teacher, who immediately threw the solution, bottle and all near Harry's feet. The draught floated slowly upwards as the people in the hospital wing desperately tried to stay on their feet and once the scent had reached Harry's nose, his eyes rolled into his head and he fell to the ground.
He awoke hours later with a headache and feeling incredibly hungry. There was an almost burning sensation in his head, that was only overcome by his thoughts of Hermione.
'Hermione!'
He looked around worriedly, attempting to sit up. He found his movement restricted by strands of rope, constraining him to the bed, in a lying position. "I am not bloody crazy, so get me out of these confounded cuffs!" He said loudly, his voice reverberating off the stone ceiling of the hospital wing as he slipped back into his normal voice. Madam Pomfrey was soon on the scene, holding a bright blue potion, one he recognised as a calming draught and a silver one emitting a light vapour. "Right Mr Potter, you cannot have another outburst like that again. Especially in here! It nearly drained all of your magical energy off. You aren't invincible you know. That's why you keep ending up in here." She released him from the makeshift handcuffs as he sat up, rubbing his wrists with an unhealthy look of rage decorating his features. Shoving the potions into a stand on the dresser next to him, Madam Pomfrey instructed him to take them before leaving the confines of that bed. "Fine. As soon as I take them, will you let me see Hermione? Please?" He was begging now, letting the potions trickle down his throat and then getting up from the bed as the effects washed over him. "Fine Mr Potter. Just go to dinner on time. I don't want you staying in here all day. I'm sure that Miss Granger wouldn't want you to either." Harry swung his feet over the side of the bed and plodded over to Hermione, with a single tear in his eye. "I made you a promise, Hermione. I don't know if I can keep it. I just hope that you can hear me in there, it's just… It must be so lonely, so terrifying, to have to be like this." He sniffed and wiped his eyes. "As soon as the mandrake restorative draughts are ready, I'm going to be right here, waiting by your side for you. I promise." He held her hand for hours, drifting in and out of consciousness or sanity, whichever came first, though he was always brought back by the feel of her hand, stone as it was, warming his own.
Dinner was strained, at best. The news that Hermione Granger had been petrified was no small piece of gossip. Harry Potter was either heartless for petrifying his girlfriend, or innocent as can be. Another speech from Headmistress McGonagall was given, in light of recent events, as she warned everyone to be alert and strong in the tough times that would lie ahead. As people shot glances at Harry throughout the rest of the week, he was becoming more and more inclined to stop the 'Heir of Slytherin' for daring to even look at Hermione. As he got to Wednesday of the next week, his owl post came bearing a parcel addressed to himself and Hermione. 'Harry, I hope this finds you well and safe, along with Hermione. I saw this in a bookstore in Cardigan weeks ago, when we were on a business trip for the ministry. I thought I remembered Hermione mention it last year and I knew that you would need it now, amongst the 'allegations'. Your mother seemed adamant that I write to you, instead of using the mirror, as I need to 'work on my handwriting'. Utter nonsense, my handwriting is perfect, as you can see here,' Harry rolled his eyes at his father's playful attitude and suddenly realised that he hadn't told the Grangers or even his own parents about Hermione's current state, as he was all washed up in his sorrow. Looking back to the letter, he saw a few more needless points about handwriting and got a very interesting detail that managed to brighten his day slightly. 'Lockhart's trial is going to be during the holidays, so that both Hermione and Zoe can provide evidence, along with Cho Chang and some of the others who were confunded. Hang in there, it will all be over soon. -Dad P.S, hand the letter to Zoe would you?' He passed the letter from his father to Zoe, who read it as Harry opened the parcel that was secured to the letter.
"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne," Harry began the novel, one that his mother assured him was a brilliant one in a series of three. "In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them. In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie." Harry sighed, looking into Hermione's eyes, the unseeing brown iris' that threatened to drive him into madness. "If only we could escape too. Be free from this and be together again. I'm sorry Hermione." He continued to read to her for hours on end, until Neville tapped him on the shoulder to break him free from the literary grasp of J.R.R Tolkien and take him to the common room, with a sad smile. "She isn't going anywhere, she will still be here, when you wake up. Come on, let's get you to bed."
His days of reading to Hermione were limited, as he had to start to revise and practice for exams again. Neville had to drag him to the Duelling club on the following Sunday to take his mind off Hermione and Gandalf. "It'll be good to take some time off from work and reading for a bit." He would keep saying, though Harry's mind still wandered to the beautiful bushy-haired bookworm lying unfairly frozen on the hospital bed. He relented to his brother with a sigh and took the next turn duelling the current champion of the club, Draco Malfoy. With a sneer, Draco got into his duelling stance, one that Snape had certainly not taught the rest of the students there or even in Defence. Upon further inspection, it would seem to be an offensive stance, one used by many duelling master and champions throughout history. Harry took his own, and they marched away from each other, passiveness still the prevailing emotion in his stare at his rival. He heard Professor Snape count down as the two glared at each other. "Three!" he said, just as Draco unleashed a flurry of jinxes and some hexes towards his opponent with a trademark sneer of superiority.
"Finite Incantatem." Harry drew his wand back and made a shape of a crescent moon with his wand. The white glow enveloped all of Malfoy's curses except for one, that straggler being dodged as it slammed into the shielding magical cage. "What's that supposed to do Potter? You can't damage me like that, it doesn't make sense. Though I suppose with your little muggle-born pet encased in stone, you can't use her magical knowledge as a crutch anymore." Harry registered the comment and his nostrils flared, though he didn't retaliate with force. He stayed calm and collected as he jettisoned multiple spells at different stages of speed. "Mimblewimble, Immobulus, Everte Statum, Expelliarmus." He said as Malfoy struggled to keep up with the torrent of standard spells. The last two spells found their blond mark in Draco's face as the boy was pushed off the stage and into the shield, flopping down onto the fabric again. "You'll pay for that. You dare insult my honour by using simple spells. Fight me you coward! Incendio Duo!" The boy lashed out and shot a form of the fire making spell at him, undoubtedly taught to him by his father, a known dark arts supporter and practitioner. Harry was about to walk off stage as the blond boy used the dual flame conjuring spell, though he still managed to react in time. Harry fumed and drew his hand toward the curse and controlled it with a shield charm applied to his hand, batting it back towards the Slytherin assailant. The sneer left Draco's face as his robe sleeve caught fire with green flames, making him squeal in agony, though his robes stopped most of the damage.
Snape cancelled the shielding cage spell and rushed to his house member's aid, quenching the fire with aguamenti, before using a light freezing charm as an ice pack. He growled something quietly to Draco and then raised his voice again. "Potter, I know you could have dispelled that curse, so 10 points from Gryffindor for not doing so. Malfoy, 10 points from Slytherin and detention with me tonight in the defence room for using a dual flame spell. You know how much damage that could have caused. The rest of you, take heed. Any more foolish attempts at unearned revenge will be met with swift action. Do I make myself clear?!" The rest of them nodded as Malfoy was taken to the hospital wing and Harry left the stage to see Neville. "For what it's worth mate, it was pretty damn good magic. Even Malfoy could have seen that." He said to Harry as a means of consoling him. Harry heard another voice come from the opposite side of the duelling platform that was whispering loudly to Seamus Finnigan. "He's gone bloody mental, he has. Lost it. Especially after the bookworm got frozen." Harry wheeled around and levelled his wand at Ronald Weasley's mouth. "Oscausi. Learn to keep that trap shut in future, Weasley." With a sudden movement, Ron had his mouth sealed shut, covered as if he was born with skin in place of lips. Seamus called out to Professor Snape as Ron tried to scream at Harry. "An improvement I should say. Shame it can't last." He flicked his wand at Ron's face, which seemed to grow lips in a very unflattering way.
I had lots of fun writing this chapter, though it pains me to not have Hermione around.
Yes I used the excellent work of J.R.R Tolkien in this chapter. You have to have been living under a rock with no ears, eyes or internet connection for the last five decades at least to have not read The Lord of the Rings or the Hobbit. That said, I am going to be using literature from my own personal experiences in these fics, though I have to iterate and will probably have to re-iterate that I don't own these books, or any form of media in these stories. I just play in other people's sandboxes.
Stay Safe
-E