Book of Shadows
Chapter 27 – Pay in blood
…
"You really think Dumbledore will give you the sword?"
"Only one way to find out."
Not that they should have been finding out. They should have been in charms class. They should have been reviewing all the spells they'd learned in second year. But they weren't.
They'd skived off classes, which they'd been doing a lot that year, to work with the spiders preparing the web. It was the first time in his life Ron wished he hadn't missed class.
With that done, they'd stopped in to check on Hermione before heading for Dumbledore's office.
"I've never been up here before," said Ron.
"There's a big gargoyle in front of the door. Luna gave me the password."
She'd caught them while they were working, as she was skipping class herself. She didn't say why, and Harry didn't pry; it would have seemed hypocritical and he needed to save Ron who'd been tied up by the second spider when he wasn't looking.
The gargoyle stepped aside as they approached; Harry hadn't said a thing.
"Think he's expecting us?"
The answer came skulking down the steps a moment later. He sneered at seeing them, opening his mouth, a scathing remark on the tip of his tongue. They'd never know what force caused him to close it.
Biting back a snarl he stormed past them, and they waited till he was out of sight before releasing their held breath.
"What was that about?"
"Let's not wait around for him to come back."
Clambering up the stairs, they knocked on the door which opened beneath the knocking hand. Inside, Dumbledore sat behind his desk, Remus sat in the chair just off to one side, and a familiar large black dog sat at his feet.
"Sorry, are we interrupting?"
"Not at all," said Dumbledore, as though their arrival were not any kind of surprise. "We were just finishing a light debriefing."
The dog gave an odd chuff that, from a human, could have been a disdainful snort. It earned him an indulgent look from the man behind the desk but not a comment.
Remus nodded to the two young men as he left, the big dog intentionally took up too much room, so he was shoving them a bit as he went past.
"You'll have to forgive him," said Dumbledore, "he doesn't do well being contained. He's been much better here than he was at, that other place, but he still feels the eyes watching him. I think he'll not truly start healing till after his name is cleared."
"I wish I knew how to do that," said Harry.
Dumbledore nodded, "It will come. We have but to wait and seize the opportunity when it arises. But, I do not believe that is why you have come to see me."
"No sir."
Again, the old man nodded, "You have a request." They nodded. "Ask. If it is in my power to grant, it shall be done."
"We're hunting the Spell eater sir. We've let him run loose far too long. It's past time he was dealt with."
"Not that I disagree, but, would this sudden interest have anything to do with the condition of Miss Granger."
It did, but it somehow felt wrong to say it. They didn't need to though; their faces expressed all that and more to the insightful eyes of Albus Dumbledore.
"Gentleman," he said, "while I do not doubt your courage, I must be perfectly clear. Hunting this particular shadow will be dangerous but hunting him for revenge will be even more dangerous."
"It's not revenge sir," said Harry.
"Isn't it?"
"No sir. We were looking for him even before this happened," was the truth, if only in part.
They had been plotting to hunt the Spell eater, but it was the attack on Hermione and her 'escorts' that was driving them to do it now.
"And your request?"
"We want The Sword of Gryffindor."
The sword sat on a small rack on a table along the wall. It was just as Harry remembered it, the sword he used to slay a basilisk.
"I wonder, do either of you know how to use such a weapon?" Dumbledore asked, lifting the sword from its rack.
"Uh…"
"Not as such."
"It is my understanding, you are meant to stick them with this bit at the end."
The two boys managed a weak chuckle, the headmaster smiling at them as he handed Harry the sword. "Be careful."
"Don't worry sir. We'll bring it back."
"It is not the sword I am worried about Harry," he said. "Sometimes the things we do, no matter how good or important they may seem, are far less important than the reasons we do them."
"What ya think he meant by all that?" Ron asked once they'd left the office.
"Don't know. Come on. We got what we need."
The Sword of Gryffindor was a last resort in their plan. They didn't know how to use it, that much was true, and if they were lucky, they wouldn't need to. Neither of them was foolish enough to think they were going to be lucky.
The Spell eater had proven cunning and crafty at every turn. Their plan was good, they thought, which merely meant it would take the toady creature a little longer to find a way around it. They'd have to make that time count.
Rather than scour the halls, which was the least effective way to find him, they planned to wait till evening, when everyone else would be locked up in their dorms, hiding in their beds. Using themselves as bait to lure him out.
Hardly caring to attend classes now, they swung back past the hospital wing, not expecting, and therefore surprised to discover Hermione was awake.
"Hermione!"
Their friend smiled while Madam Pomphrey hovered nearby looking worried.
"How is she?" became the obvious question.
"Your timing is, well… she's just woken a minute ago."
Which meant she didn't know if…
"Hermione, how do you feel?" Ron asked.
"A little lightheaded," she said. "How long was I out?"
"Not too long."
"Only about a day," Harry added.
"Oh. Well that's not so bad. Not like the last time I was in here. Can you believe they canceled finals that year?"
Ron looked to Harry, "She sounds okay."
"Of course I'm okay. You can plainly see that."
What they could see was not near as important as what they couldn't and the look on Pomphrey's face said she agreed. It also said, you do it, it'll be easier if you do.
Deep down they knew she was right, much as they hated the idea, but they were Gryffindor men, and to them at least that meant something.
"Hermione?" said Harry, sitting down next to her while Ron took up position behind her, leaning against the wall.
"Yes Harry?"
"Do you remember what happened, why you're here?"
"I—I remember, a bit at least. We were walking down the hall, and, we were attacked. I didn't see what it was, it took us from behind. I was knocked down, dazed. I heard, fighting? It wasn't particularly good fighting by the sound of it then, something, something on my head. I blacked out. Then I woke up here. Oh, Lavender and Parvati, are they alright?"
Harry gestured to the beds on her right where the two girls lay.
"Oh. How did we get here?"
"Neville saved you," said Harry.
"Really. Well, that's good. He's really grown up these past couple years, don't you think."
Harry nodded, less interested in Neville's personal progress than in Hermione's current state, "Do you remember what you were doing before you were attacked."
"I was, in the library. Yes, I was researching that—oh, Harry, it won't work. A magic barrier, he'll just eat his way through it."
"Yeah, I know," he said. "Neville pointed that out last night when we were talking about it."
"Oh. Well that's good."
Was it? The longer they talked the less sure of that he was. "Hermione, can you do something for me?"
"Of course Harry."
"You know that spell?"
"Which spell? I know lots of spells."
Merlin, I hope so. "That charm we were talking about the other day in class. Could you find that for me in your book?"
"Why? It's not like you can read my book," she said with a good-natured smile.
Harry tried not to flinch, "Please."
Rolling her eyes at his silliness, "Oh, very well. I still don't know why you want me to do this. I know lots of spells. Lots of spells."
Opening her book, she began flipping through pages. Page after page, turning and turning.
Standing behind her, Ron could see into her book. From where he was sitting, Harry could see Ron's face.
"Hermione?"
"I know lots of spells," she said, "lots of spells."
And the pages kept turning. Lots of spells, she said, page after page after page.
"Hermione?"
"Lots of spells Harry, lots of spells," she said, and then she reached the end, the very last page turned. "Lots of spells? Harry?"
"Yes Hermione?"
"I—I can't remember them. I can't remember any of them."
Truth, some say, is like a hammer; it will make you and break you.
Hermione Jane Granger, broke.
Ron watched, hands clenched so tight they bruised his arm as Hermione wept and wailed against Harry's chest. Five years, five long, hard years, gone. All that work, all that knowledge, wiped away.
Harry held her, what else could he do. He was her bulwark, her last bastion, he would not fail, could not fail. He held her, each sobbing tear a drop of poison in his heart. He looked at Ron who looked at him, their minds as one.
Endless tears were put to an end with a dreamless sleep. The boys tucked her in and returned to Gryffindor tower. Harry went straight to the dorms while Ron slouched into the chair before the fireplace, leaning the sword of Gryffindor on the table next to him.
People came and went, giving the sword a myriad of looks yet never proving brave enough to approach the brooding Weasley, a sight almost as rare as the Sword of Gryffindor.
Harry brooded, not Ron. The wrongness of it was enough to warn off any and all, and as night fell, the common room emptied, and Ron continued his solitary contemplation.
Harry returned sometime after dark, cursing at his hand, and finally drawing Ron from his dark musings.
"Bloody things gone numb on me. Bugger!"
"What's with the hand Harry?"
"Ron, I think we dodged a hex when we decided 'not' to take ancient runes," said Harry. "I don't think I'd have a hand left if I had to do this every day."
"Do what?"
Ceasing his hand shaking, he held up the other, displaying two sheets of parchment, "This."
It was detailed work, line after line of runes, all encased in a frame of yet more runes. Ron had never studied runes, but he still recognized these, he saw them every time he opened his book.
"This that Spirit snare Hermione made?"
"No," said Harry. "This is my spell. All of it."
Ron stared, "Cor! Didn't Hermione say it was dangerous though. Something about, blood and sacrifice."
"That's what Lavender said," since Hermione hadn't wanted to worry him.
"You want me to put that in my book?"
Harry nodded, "We don't know just how the Spell eater consumes. Would the other spell work? He's not a specter, so we know that one won't. Mine uses a physical medium to accomplish the capture. He's less likely to escape that. Physical things, that's his weakness."
"Well, yeah, but why do you need me to do it?"
"In case I can't. We know he's gonna be a tough fight. When the time comes, I might not be in a position to cast the spell. We need to both be ready."
"You mean all three of us, don't you Harry?"
Deep into their conversation they'd never noticed Neville approaching. Now he stood before them; gone was the trembling, the uncertainty of the boy. It was like a whole new person had replaced Neville Longbottom.
"Neville, I don't…" Harry started.
"I heard about Hermione. I stopped by the hospital wing after class to check on them. Madam Pomphrey told me."
The silence that followed that statement had a physical presence it was so thick.
"I want in," he said. "It's always been the three of you before. The golden trio. It's not enough, just the two of you. You need a third."
There was sense to the argument. They'd derived a certain strength from their numbers, but, Neville was no Hermione, Hermione was no Hermione either.
"I'll be honest Nev, I don't know if these will work," said Harry. "I've never done this before. And even if it does, there's still the Spell eater to deal with. Are you sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
He was right, Harry could tell. It was all in the eyes.
"Ron?"
Ron nodded.
"Alright."
He handed a page to each of them. The sizzling sound of spell merging with book echoed overloud in the empty common room.
"So, what's next?" said Neville.
"We grab a few things, then we find the bastard, and we make him pay!"