THE DARK CURSE
"Avada Ke—"
The words coming from Charlie were mercifully cut off as Ron shot a silencing spell towards him and dove behind a tree. The green spell hit the tree's bark, and Ron only had a second to wonder what percentage of dead he would have been had the silent Killing Curse hit him.
But even silenced, Charlie's relentless attack continued, and although Ron kept shouting the more harmless spells like stunners, sleepers, and silencers (not daring to try a harder spell against his brother), Charlie was still able to dodge and deflect each one.
They had moved closer to the middle of the clearing by this point. Ron was worried for his brother, but the screams now cutting through the distance were hard to ignore. He had to get to Hermione.
A curse cut through his arm, splashing blood onto the trees behind him, and Ron groaned in pain, sinking to his knees, arm cradled to his chest.
"Charlie…" he said weakly, trying in vain to reach his brother. "Charlie, don't do this...it's me, Ron...your little brother…"
The disturbingly stony expression on Charlie's normally kind and jovial face, however, remained.
"Flipendo!" he said as Charlie came closer, then chose a spell chain. "Levicorpus! Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!"
With mere flicks of his wand, Charlie cast them aside and did a slashing movement—
—but an orange light from behind Charlie shot towards Ron's brother, hitting him square in his unprotected back. The stunner sent Charlie crashing down to earth, and Ron looked on in amazement before he realized the large monster coming out of the darkness and into the moonlight was simply a a monster-lover.
"H-Hagrid?"
"Yeh all right, Ron? He didn' get yeh?" said Hagrid worriedly, poking Charlie with his pink umbrella.
Ron sagged against the tree behind him in relief, eyes shut to dispell the momentary dizziness. His heart kept hammering in his chest.
Hagrid shook his head grimly. "I knew summat was wrong with 'im. Poor ol' Charlie. Been actin' dodgy all day. It was 'im, yeh know! He's the one what cursed little Norberta. It wasn' 'er fault! I know she attacked yeh, an...an I'm so sorry abou' that...but...but it just wasn't 'er fault…"
"I know. I know, Hagrid," said Ron, standing up with Hagrid's help and leaning against him. "It wasn't Norberta's fault. Just like it wasn't Charlie's…"
He walked closer and studied his brother's still form, feeling sick. His brother...and probably his favorite one too...kept trying to kill him. Would have succeeded even…
"Why?" Ron croaked. His face was streaked with dirt and tears but he just couldn't care right now. Hagrid was good people. "Why was he trying to kill me? Who could've gotten to him?"
"That dirty Dolohov, wasn' it? Cursed Norberta, cursed Charlie, got that Head Boy fella to do his nasty work with...with...Hermione an' all…" said Hagrid, with an audible sniff, wiping his face with a large polka-dotted hanky.
"You reckon we should wake him?" Ron asked.
"No...no, we don' know how deep that curse goes, do we. Best to take his wand an' send someone to get 'im…"
Ron took Charlie's wand from his limp hand and sent a Patronus into the woods for Dumbledore.
And then another agonizing scream cut through the night, and Ron realized painfully that it was Hermione's.
He and Hagrid looked at each other fearfully.
"We have to get through that damn barrier!" Ron said with gritted teeth.
They both turned towards the flickering shield. One wand and one umbrella rose into the air to finish the work.
The pain crippled her, unbearable, and she couldn't breathe—couldn't breathe—couldn't—Merlin, when will this end—
Hermione spasmed against her invisible bindings—screams were torn from her throat—they split her eardrums—
—but the pain—the pain—so intense—so white-hot and piercing—burning—
Dolohov carved forcefully into her skin, tracing the V in the space of several long, agonizing seconds.
"How...fitting...the curse I cast onto you was in the shape of a V, isn't it?" he hissed, pausing from his work. The vicissitude was welcoming, but his words were ill-favored. "V for Voldemort...he will like that when he sees. A mark you can carry for the rest of your miserably short life. Pity though...letting such a thing like you go to waste...perhaps it should it be V for Vixen?"
Disgusted, Hermione spat in his face, but instantly regretted it. Her chest was on fire. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, it hurt to be still.
But Dolohov just sneered. "Or V for Viper, rather."
His blade pierced her skin again, and the scream left Hermione's lips before she even knew what was happening. He finished carving out the V before he finally lifted his blade.
The respite was swift.
His arm arced and the blade slashed at her arms, stuck above her head by his spell—then again—then again—the blood splattered across the tree trunk and into the darkness, making Greyback lick his jowls and come closer—her eyes sagged close and the world swayed—
"Please…" she cried softly. "Please just let me go...I won't tell anyone…please..."
Hermione felt warm liquid drip slowly down both of her arms—her head dropped down, too weak to hold itself up—
"I'm not done with you, bitch," Dolohov growled.
He grabbed her chin in his filthy hand, lifting her head up once more. Hermione could hardly keep her eyes open, but saw him raise his dagger to her face. Its point ripped into her skin, whipping her face to the side, searing into her cheek. Light and black flashes dotted her vision—he raised the cursed blade again and—
And then he was done.
Someone had ripped Dolohov off her—the dagger clattered on the roots of the forest floor—the spell holding her to the tree diminished—Hermione collapsed to the ground—white spots clouded her vision. What was happening to him, she didn't know. His hoarse shouts echoed around her, mixed with Greyback's roars.
The sharp, cutting pain—blood poured out of every slice in her skin. Her arms, her head, her face, her chest. Blood seeped out onto her red blouse. The dizziness grew too much, and Hermione closed her eyes, willing her body to just shut down.
She was done.
The lightheaded feeling was so overwhelming she knew she would pass out in a second...but she wanted it to be something more. She wanted to pass out and never wake up again.
But death wasn't that kind.
The hoarse screams stopped, just as abruptly as they began. Quiet murmurs in the darkness, but she couldn't tell who it was.
Someone walked next to her, then kneeled.
Her eyes remained closed though...she couldn't open them for the life of her, the blood loss from her head wound and now from her chest making her swim through the crackling burning leaves of dizziness...
Soft hands touched her chest, baring her opened wound to light. A hiss of disbelief, then a voice echoed out around her. "Vulnera Sanentur...Vulnera Sanentur...Vulnera Sanentur…"
The pain she felt was slowly diminishing. Hermione could breathe again…
Arms encircled her and she was lifted.
"Miss Granger," murmured a deep, quiet voice. She knew it...but the name and the face to the voice kept blinking out of her memories. It was familiar...but not enough. "Come with me...you're safe...they're all worried…I've got you..."
The relief flooding her at the thought of being safe was overwhelming.
Hermione gave in, and succumbed to the sleep engulfing her, becoming completely limp in her savior's arms.
She was safe.
Ron crashed through the undergrowth, following Hagrid. Just as he and Hagrid had started countering the blood barrier, Snape showed up and, with relative ease, he'd done the counter-curse to the Dark spell and brought them down, rushing in.
Never before had Ron been grateful for the slimy bastard.
Heart pumping, Ron rushed to the scene. Snape and Dolohov were fighting furiously against each other. Greyback at once attacked Hagrid, and the large half-giant wrestled with the werewolf on the ground. Eyes searching frantically for Hermione, all Ron could see were three lumps at the base of the tree across the clearing. And both dueling pairs were in between him and them.
At once, he joined the fray.
Shooting curse after curse at Dolohov, the nasty Death Eater had to parry both him and Snape, and it wasn't long before he was brought to his knees screaming, before a quick blow to his head left him of the ground, unconscious.
"I've got him," shouted Ron. "Go help Hagrid!"
Snape looked at him, a tiny hint of disbelief in his eyes, as if he didn't expect Ron would know they had to secure the prisoner as well.
"Incarcerous!" said Ron, and magical ropes twisted themselves around Dolohov's limbs.
Adrenaline coursed through Ron's veins as he watched the satisfied Snape turn on Greyback, helping Hagrid to dispatch him before the werewolf could get so much as a bite in. But Fenrir Greyback took off into the woods before they could capture him, and the three left standing watched him run off, frustrated.
They couldn't dwell long on that, however.
Ron shot a stunner at the unconscious Dolohov just for good measure, then levitated the Death Eater's body closer to the others so they could keep an eye on him. Ron approached the first body on the ground. It was Moony's body. Hagrid was hunched over him, and Ron could hear the werewolf's whimpers of pain. Moony's eyes were open, and Ron followed his gaze to where Professor Jones lay.
His face whitened.
The blood around her neck was substantial, and her eyes were half-open. Snape was kneeling over her, gently taking care of her. For probably the first time, Ron saw emotions displayed on the Potionmaster's face. Shock and grief, pity and fear. Feelings that Ron didn't even know Snape had.
"Weasley!" snapped Snape. "Stop gawking and help me. Press here!"
Ron didn't have to be told twice. He shot his hand towards Hestia Jones' bitten neck, pressing hard on the wound to try and stop the bleeding.
"I cannot use magical spells to heal her bite, since it is infected," said Snape. "I need you to stop the bleeding physically while I attend to Miss Granger."
"Hermione?" Ron's head whipped around, and Snape stood and went over to the last still form at the base of the tree.
Only then did Ron see her.
Horror and fear were magnified a hundredfold when he saw her bloody body. She lay still in a crumpled heap mere feet from him. His heart stopped in dread at the amount of blood covering her.
Watching in a daze as Snape turned her over, Ron heard him hiss when he saw the blood covering her arms, her chest, her face. And Ron could only watch and stare, breath coming out in gasps, hyperventilating. Was she dead? She was whiter than snow in the mere glimpses he could see of her skin that wasn't covered in the scarlet red blood. Was she alive? Was she okay?
A stir of movement below Ron brought his attention back to his favorite professor. He couldn't think of Hermione now. He had to take care of poor Professor Jones. Hestia moved ever so slightly, and terror filled him at the thought of her dying. Or worse...living through life being cursed…
Wait. Snape said the bite mark itself couldn't be enchanted, but what about the area around it...
Ron brought his wand to her neck, whispering numbing charms over the area around her wound, taking care to make them shallow so it wouldn't interfere with her breathing.
Hestia Jones' movements stilled and her face relaxed in her unconscious state. Then Ron removed his hand, where the blood was merely a trickle coming out, and spelled several bandages around the area, tightening their hold on her neck. A bit of red seeped through the bandages, but then stopped.
Relieved, Ron turned back to Hermione.
Snape passed his wand over her several times, muttering a spell Ron had never heard before. But it was helping. Her cuts were somewhat closing.
Then Snape shot off a Patronus into the woods, and Ron saw a swift, ghostly white raven take off in quick flight towards the castle. Snape turned back to Hermione, all the while whispering to her, picking her up so gently that Ron felt like he was intruding on a very private moment.
"I-is she…?" he whispered.
Snape turned around, Hermione limp in his arms. "How fast can you take her to the hospital wing?"
"I-I-I—"
"Here—" Snape deposited her in Ron's arms, and very gingerly Ron took her from him. "You must not levitate her. There would be too many problems with trying that for the first time in a forest with uneven ground, and we both know your spellwork is abysmal. Besides, you will need your wandlight to see your way back. Take her and go quickly. We'll be right behind. Now!"
Face white, Ron nodded, and stumbled backwards. Hermione was heavy, a weight he definitely wasn't used to. Even seventeen, his body was not fully grown. But the lack of movement in her face...the way her body was horribly slashed and hastily put back together, Ron knew that time was of the essence.
He had to get her to the hospital wing in time.
"Decipulus."
Snape cast a spell, and a bright red cage erected itself and surrounded Dolohov, the magical bars fizzing with energy like a lightning bolt. Ron watched it, fascinated, before turning back around lit. His foot kicked something, and he looked down to the bloody, dead body of Crookshanks.
He was going to throw up.
Don't think about that. Just don't think about it. Get Hermione to the hospital wing. Just get her there in time.
Ron stepped over the dead kneazle and walked as fast as he dared.
Severus Snape picked up Hestia Jones' still form and followed him, and Hagrid scooped up Moony and slung him over his shoulder, his free arm holding out his crossbow and eyeing the Forbidden Forest warily.
For several minutes they walked. Hermione's breathing against his chest was ragged, her cheek against his shoulder cold, and Ron quickened his step. Even with Keeping, it was no easy feat carrying her, though she was relatively light. Really, she needed to eat more.
If she lives long enough too, he thought with dread.
Voices in the distance—Ron tensed, till he saw that it was several Order people he knew.
"Shacklebolt!" said Snape curtly. "We need dispatchers to Dolohov, he's been caged about three hundred yards behind me. And more to recover Fenrir Greyback, who got away. He was headed north, to the wards."
Kingsley Shacklebolt gave a curt nod, grimly assessing both Hermione and Hestia Jones in their bloody states.
"And Charlie!" Ron called out. They turned to look at him. "Er...Charlie Weasley, my brother, he was Imperiused. He fought me when I was trying to get through the blood barrier. He needs someone to look after him. He's stunned, probably a few hundred yards east of here. In a small clearing."
Partly impressed and partly disturbed by this information, Kingsley gave a small salute. "Thanks for the tip. We'll take good care of him, Ron."
Relieved beyond measure, and firmly resolving to never give up the Unforgivable Curse that his brother tried to used on him, Ron continued walking, following Hagrid back to the Castle.
Hermione groaned in his arms.
"Shh," he whispered to her. "It's all right...we're almost there...just hold on, Hermione. Hold on…"
The nasty-looking wound on her chest was dark red, almost black, with the mottled muscles showing through and the blood clotting. Snape healed what he could of the other slash marks, but this wound itself looked cursed—horribly cursed—and he didn't know if—if—
He couldn't finish that thought.
Quickening his steps, Ron wasn't even aware of the tears that leaked out of his eyes.
"We're almost there," he whispered again.
When Harry saw Hermione being carried into the Hospital Wing in the arms of Ron, of all people, his whole body, tense and taut with worry, visibly sagged.
"Hermione!"
Harry and Ginny ran forward and helped Ron set her on the hospital bed, several professors in the room gasping at the state of her.
"Madam Pomfrey! She needs help!" Ron shouted frantically.
Madam Pomfrey bustled over, but Harry and Ron couldn't leave her.
"Heavens!" Professor McGonagall's hands flew to her mouth at the sight of her favorite student, before she remembered herself and took charge. "Set her over here, Mr. Weasley, where—where she can have more privacy from the others."
Ron laid her down on the nearest cot, several beds away from the other dozen people that were injured during the dragon attack. Professor Dumbledore walked forward, face more grim than Ron had ever seen it, and at once erected a privacy screen around Hermione to shield her from the gawking stares of the other patients in the ward who were still awake. It didn't fully enclose around Hermione and the healer, however, which Harry was very grateful for.
Aghast, Harry stared at her.
She looked the worse for wear. Her golden brown curls were matted with blood, it was dripping from her face from a large, nasty cut, and the front of her shirt was wet, pieces missing, her pants badly ripped. She smelled of blood and smoke, and something else he couldn't quite put a finger on...
"Mr. Potter...Mr. Weasley...Miss Weasley...perhaps you should come away…" said Professor Flitwick, ushering them over.
"No," said Ron and Harry together.
"We're not leaving her," said Ginny. "We don't mind the blood."
It was a lie, of course. They minded the blood...a lot.
Horrified, they just stared at Hermione, and watched as Pomfrey set about trying to close the slashes in Hermione's skin that Snape had only been partly successful in. Harry couldn't stop staring at the dark blood and mangled state of her chest. His arm drifted around Ginny, who was sobbing next to him.
"Please be okay," Ron whispered, sagging onto the empty bed beside Hermione's. He stared at her quiet form, and looked so white Harry thought he would pass out in a moment. "Please be okay, Hermione…"
In terrifying silence, they all watched as Madam Pomfrey worked, trying to get the bleeding under control and close the wounds all the way.
And then the hospital wing was a-bustle again when Snape came in, carrying a bloody Professor Jones, and the world dropped out from under Harry.
"She's been bitten, Albus," said Severus, laying her down on the only other empty bed, keeping her separated from others. "By Fenrir Greyback."
There was a gasp that reverberated around the standing professors. Harry's and Ginny's jaws dropped, and Harry couldn't blink, couldn't breathe, couldn't—couldn't—
"No," cried Professor Sprout. "No, no, no…"
"Weasley and I were...were...were able to...to get the bleeding under control…" Snape tried to continue, but he was having a hard time talking, and Harry saw in shock that his hated professor was blinking furiously, obviously distraught. "I've sent for Aletha already. She should be—"
"I'm here," called out the dark-skinned woman as she strode into the room, a few medi-witch and medi-wizards trailing after her. She stopped right by Hestia's bed and looked down at her friend laying on the cot. "Oh, Hestia, what have you done now…"
Aletha Freeman at once started barking orders to the ones who came with her, and there was a flurry of activity around Hestia Jones. She was fussed over greatly as they assessed the damage to her veins and muscles, all the while tracking the curse as it spread throughout her body. Harry was fascinated, watching how they all worked so seamlessly. He quickly learned that she was one of the leading healers in werewolves and their bites.
"Should we move her to St. Mungo's, Ms. Freeman?" Professor Dumbledore asked somberly.
"No, we can't move her in this state," she replied. "It's a miracle you even got her here this far, Severus, without more damage done. You said it was Greyback, then? Where's Remus?"
"Hagrid is tending to him in his hut. We felt it best he take him there, considering. Remus was put under the Cruciatus several times and has a few scrapes on his legs but should make a full recovery. Hagrid will bring him up after the moonset and he has transformed again," said Professor Snape.
Face white, Harry had to grip the armchair and sit down again. The Professors talked quietly amongst themselves, but Harry was too tired and drained to listen in.
Aletha Freeman and her team asked for complete privacy while they worked, so there wasn't much that Ron, Harry, or Ginny could see. The screens completely closed around Professor Jones, they turned back to Hermione and watch Madam Pomfrey carefully trace her wand over the wound on Hermione's chest.
"This was a cursed blade," Madam Pomfrey said grimly. "I don't know how much of this we can repair…"
Ron's breath hissed.
"Poppy," said Professor Dumbledore, coming closer to her. "Please let me know if there is any change in either of them immediately. We have important matters to take care of."
She nodded in the assent, and Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Sprout all left the hospital wing. Harry stared after them, wishing he could follow and learn more about what they had to take care of, but knew it would have to wait.
"Murtlap essence, please, Meghan," said Madam Pomfrey, and Meghan Freeman hurried off to obey, eyes wide.
"Please, Madam Pomfrey…" whispered Ginny. "Please fix her!"
"Patience, child," said Madam Pomfrey, "I'll fix her up in no time, mark my words! I have been a healer for a quarter of a century, and I'll be damned if I let a cursed blade stop me now. Now Mr. Weasley, let Miss Freeman attend to your arm while I work on this poor girl..."
Face grim, the Hogwarts matron set to work.
It was one of the most harrowing hours of Ron's life.
It was well beyond midnight, but the air was too tense and he was far too worried about Hermione to be able to fall asleep. He'd just had one of the longest days he'd ever had, but Ron couldn't have relaxed or even left the room for the life of him. He kept pacing the ward, sneaking glances through the curtain gaps at Hermione.
When it had been too long since he'd had an update, Ron frustratingly groaned and rubbed at his sore arms some more. Meghan Freeman had fixed the gash in his arms just fine but, Merlin, did his burn marks itch.
Ginny stirred from her perch, head laying on Harry's shoulder, both of them slumped over in slumber on some waiting chairs.
There was a murmur of hushed tones by the doors that belonged to some Aurors, but Ron paid them no mind. He tried eavesdropping at first, but after a few minutes of no real news, he gave up.
Hermione's bedside curtains opened up just then, and Ron rushed over. Ginny woke up and elbowed Harry, whose glasses were askew, and they both sat up and came over.
"I believe we were able to fix most of the damage," said Madam Pomfrey, face ever stern. "She will still have scarring of course...can't help with that from a cursed blade...but she is taking a lot of pain potions and we were able to stop the curse from taking over in those areas, thank goodness. Thanks of course to Miss Freeman here."
Meghan Freeman beamed, albeit tiredly.
Ron, Harry, and Ginny let out a collective sigh of relief.
"You may sit with her now. Her sleeping potion ought to have worn off by now. She may not wake up for a while, but she may surprise us. It's best she have her friends around her when she does. What she went through was extremely traumatic. Now excuse me, I need to speak with the Headmaster," she said, then hurried off.
Ron took the seat right next to Hermione, and just stared at her. The blood was cleaned up nicely. She looked really fresh and clean, and her face was much healthier than the dead white of before. The cuts were not all healed, but they were closed and they looked better.
But there...on her chest, just barely peaking out from under the white bandage…
Ron was afraid to touch it, but drawing back her hospital robe a hair's breadth confirmed his suspicions. The skin was gray...like it was dying...
Horrified, Ron dropped his hand and sat back in his chair.
Harry and Ginny came over, sitting on her other side, unaware of what he'd just done.
"What do we do now?" Ginny asked, looking at the unconscious Hermione wretchedly.
"We wait," said Ron. "For her to wake up."
It turned out they had less time to wait than they thought.
Only a few minutes later, Ron's fingers were brushing back a lock of hair from her face, when her eyes fluttered open.
When she saw him, she gave a sleepy smile. "Mmm, Ron…"
"I'm right here," he whispered. "You're safe."
Merlin, he wanted to hug her...but he refrained, not wanting to hurt her further.
"How are you? Can I get you anything? Water?"
She shook her head, but winced.
"H-Hestia?" she whispered, eyes worried.
Sadly, Harry shook his head. "We don't know anything. Aletha Freeman is taking care of her now, but we haven't heard how she is. I guess no news is good news."
"And M-Moony?" Hermione asked, voice raspy.
"I'll get you water," Ginny said, and poured some from the water pitcher nearby. Hermione took the cup gratefully and drank.
"Your 'Moony', as you call him, is being well-looked after, my dear," said Dumbledore, walking over to them.
They turned to him and he sat down in the last chair beside her bed, patting her blanket-draped foot.
Madam Pomfrey came in with him, and set about re-bandaging Hermione's dressings and dabbing some more at the wound on her chest. The potions she gave to Hermione seemed to be helping with the blood loss somewhat, although Hermione grimaced every time she drew a breath still.
"Professor...my…" Hermione closed her eyes, brow furrowed. The dark blood on her white face stood out, and Madam Pomfrey hovered nearby, taking care of it. Then Hermione opened her eyes again and finished her thought. "Crookshanks?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "My dear, I am very sorry for your loss. We will make sure he gets a proper burial."
Harry and Ginny looked at each other, dismayed. The tear sliding down Hermione's face said it all.
"How are all of you?" she asked. "Did everyone make it out of the stands in time? Did Norberta stop attacking? Did Viktor..."
Ron and Harry both winced at the mention of Krum's name, for two different reasons.
"Hermione...Krum was found on the ground by the castle. He's alive—" Harry rushed out, "But he hasn't woken. He...may have been trampled on. Or...fallen off his broom. We really aren't sure. I'm really sorry…"
I'm not, Ron thought savagely, though he'd never voice this. Good riddance...
Alarmed, Hermione's eyes found Krum's body a few beds away from hers, his eyes were shut and a ghostly palor blanketed his already pale skin.
"Oh no..." she gasped.
"It may take hours, it may take weeks, before he will wake up again," Madam Pomfrey stated, then softened her tone. "I really am sorry, my dear. We will find out what's wrong with him in no time, you mark my words."
"And before you ask," Professor Dumbledore said gravely, "We do know about Mr. Cormac McLaggen and his actions this day. I am taking the matter of his expulsion into my own hands. We also have successfully revived Draco Malfoy and have set the Quidditch stands aright. And we have also found quite a few Slytherins who knew about the attack days ahead of time and chose not to forewarn anyone. We found them making full use of the student body in shambles. I shan't name names, but they are being suspended indefinitely."
A hushed silence came over them at his words. Ron inwardly rejoiced.
He turned to Hermione again. He wanted to know...everything. What happened to Hermione? Why was she on the top of that tower with McLaggen and Malfoy? Was Malfoy in on it? And if he wasn't, why the hell didn't he stop it from happening?
But Hermione had other things on her mind.
"Did Professor Snape apprehend Dolohov?" she rasped.
"Yes...I am afraid Dolohov was able to break through our wards to get into Hogwarts, though an investigation is underway to find out succinctly how. The Aurors are holding him in the Dark Tower now, and he is on his way to Azkaban," the Headmaster said. "As is Cormac McLaggen. He is past seventeen after all, and must be tried as an adult."
"And Greyback?"
"We...have not been able to find him. I've had the Order out searching, and the Aurors have sent their best teams out for hours. There have been sightings...however, since he is a werewolf and most spells don't work on them, we have had a hard time apprehending him," said Dumbledore gravely.
"Professor…" Hermione halted, not wanting to continue. "Is Hestia…?"
"Alive. And that is the most important thing. No matter what happens to her from now on during the full moon," Dumbledore clarified. "She is out of the woods now. Aletha is waiting to see how she does during moonset, which can determine how hard the curse hits them every month. When Greyback bit her, I don't believe he was wanting her to outlive the night. But Ms. Aletha Freeman is a miracle worker. As is lovely Madam Pomfrey here."
"You are too kind, Albus." Madam Pomfrey smiled at him as she bustled away, her work done for the time being.
After she left, Professor Dumbledore set up a silencing spell around their area and drew the curtains tighter with a flick of his wand. "Now I am afraid, Miss Granger, I must ask you to tell me everything…"
"Professor, no, she needs to rest…" started Harry.
Dumbledore said, "Harry, I am sad to say that hearing what happened is far more important right now. She will have plenty of time to rest, but right now I need to know the full story so we can get to the bottom of this and take care of things as quickly as we can. Are we clear?"
Ron and Harry both stared at Hermione, worried.
She slowly nodded. "It's fine...I don't mind telling him…but I don't remember much."
Looking rather uncomfortable, Hermione told them everything she remembered, beginning with how she realized the Snitch was tampered with. Harry and Ron knew as much, but this was news to Dumbledore, who hadn't been at the match.
She talked about the fires and the terror of Norberta's breakout, and then finding a cursed Draco Malfoy. Harry and Ron both scoffed at this, since it seemed a bit of a stretch to them that Malfoy would have let himself be cursed in the first place, especially from a Gryffindor. His story seemed too fishy to Ron to be true.
Dumbledore appraised Hermione when she told him about sending out her Patronus to alert Professor Snape that something was wrong, but Ron felt a hidden fury deep inside.
"It didn't work though, did it?" He blurted out. "Snape never came. If he did, Hermione would never have been taken. It was his stupid prejudice against us, wasn't it?"
"Mr. Weasley—"
"No, Ron's right! What bloody excuse does Snape have for not going to Hermione when something was wrong?" Harry asked in anger.
"It is Professor Snape to you, Harry," said a stern Professor Dumbledore, breaking in. "And nobody carries more guilt about Hermione's abduction than Severus. He was in the middle of saving some first-year Ravenclaws from a building collapse in the lower rafters of the Ravenclaw stands. He could not leave them by any means. By the time he had finished escorting them to safety and was able to make it over there to where Hermione and Draco Malfoy were, it was already too late. And when he heard you were abducted, Hermione…"
Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny were overcome with mixed emotions about their most despised professor. Did he really have a heart after all?
The Headmaster shook his head sadly. "Severus' guilt drove him to search for you farther than any of our other search parties. Everyone else had to stop and rest, but he kept going. This is why it was him who found you. I know he seems harder to get along with, but he really does have a soft spot for you. You are the best in his class, after all. And I have heard of the progress you two have been making on the Wolflord Antidote. Marvelous, indeed."
"It didn't help though," Hermione said sadly. "It didn't matter at all. And Greyback still got away, didn't he…"
"On the contrary, my dear, it matters far more than you will ever know. There have been more sightings across Great Britain of werewolves taking this potion and showing up to poor wizarding and Muggle families. And now because of the combined efforts of you, Severus, Remus, and Hestia, we now have at least the start of a way to combat that horrid potion. For that, wizarding-kind will forever be grateful to you…"
Hermione beamed, and Ron grinned just watching the smile light up her tired face.
She continued with her story then. Going into her altercation with Malfoy, then being Imperiused, and then discovering McLaggen. Dumbledore's eyes grew very dark when she said McLaggen had used an Unforgivable on her.
"If I may, Miss Granger, these accusations are far too serious a matter to simply take your word for it. I will need to borrow your memory when Cormac McLaggen is brought before the Wizengamot, as well as young Mr. Malfoy's."
"Of course, Professor," Hermione agreed.
When she got to the point about waking up in the Forbidden Forest and that burning circle in the woods and Crookshanks, then about Dolohov and her scar, Ron's skin crawled and his grip on Hermione's bedrail tightened.
"I can't believe that bloody…" Harry trailed off, the nasty word he was going to use dying off on his tongue in front of the Hogwarts Headmaster. "How did he even get inside the Castle wards?"
"We do believe it was McLaggen who let him in, although we still aren't sure as to the how," said Dumbledore. "Believe me, we are doing everything in our power to find an answer."
"Professor, I still don't understand," Ron finally blurted. "She was missing for hours! Why couldn't anybody find her? We used our Patronuses, we couldn't find her on the Marauders' Map, we cast spells to take us to her, to bring her to us, even… the Aurors used instruments I'd never even seen before! Why didn't any of them work?"
It was Hermione who answered this time. "It's because when Dolohov set up the blood barrier, he made me Unplottable, Ron. It uses different techniques than an Untraceable, which has been banned on Hogwarts grounds. He must have, though I don't remember any of it, maybe I was knocked out the whole time, but that's the only logical explanation. By making a person Unplottable...although it is extremely unheard of...you are in essence making them virtually unfindable. Like the Room of Requirements which requires an actual wish fulfillment in order to be granted access. Or Grimmauld Place, which uses a Secret Keeper. I've just never really heard of a person being made Unplottable before, in all my reading."
"Miss Granger, I couldn't have said it better myself," said Dumbledore, appraising her over his half-moon spectacles. "Indeed, when Dolohov dragged you to the edge of the wards and discovered he couldn't break you through them, he must have performed that spell to allow him time to think and come up with a secondary arrangement, which obviously took longer than he thought. This could be why you were unconscious for hours and why he wasn't there when you woke up. And Remus Lupin in his werewolf form was able to go through the blood barrier because the curse of a werewolf is, by its own nature, Dark."
"And Crookshanks wouldn't have counted since he's an animal. And then Greyback was let in as well…" Hermione said thoughtfully. "And then Hestia...but the barrier must have been down by that point, I suppose—"
"Wait, the Untraceable charm isn't allowed in Hogwarts? Why?" said Ginny.
This was sounding much too like History of Magic for Ron's taste. He fiddled with a bit of Hermione's hair, trying to get dried blood flakes out of it while he listened to Hermione's answer.
"Can you imagine the chaos if it wasn't, Gin? This is a school full of teenagers, after all. It's a complicated bit of magic, but still shouldn't be performed by young adults who are lacking their prefrontal cortices. However, the Unplottable is a spell that is in such use that it had to be allowed. Just think of all the places here that aren't even on the Marauders' Map! Slytherin's Chamber where you defeated the Basilisk, the Hogwarts cemetery, the Room of Requirements...I'm sure there are dozens more…"
Ron broke in. "As interesting as all that is, you didn't say how Hestia and Moony could have found you. Or how I found you on Crookshanks' tracker. If you were Unplottable, I shouldn't have been able to find you that way either. So something happened for you to have been made Plottable again right after we last looked for you on the Map but before I thought to go to your room and find you on the tracker tablet."
They all stared at him.
"Ron, that's...that's brilliant," Hermione said. "You knew I had the tracker on me? You used the tablet?"
Ron's ears reddened and he looked down at his shoes. "Well, yeah, it wasn't that difficult to suss out…"
"He really was brilliant, you should have seen him, carrying you in like that…" said Harry, grinning at Ron's obvious embarrassment.
"Wait, how did you even get in her room? You know about the slide spell on the stairs when boys use them," Ginny demanded.
"I...er...didn't use the stairs…" Ron tried to look everywhere but Professor Dumbledore. But it didn't work, and looking into Professor Dumbledore's penetrating stare, Ron couldn't take it anymore. "I took a leaf out of the Death Eater's book, all right? I grabbed Harry's broom and flew out of the boys' Gryffindor windows and straight into the girls'. I thought that finding you quickly was obviously more important than waiting around for Lavender or Fay to happen by me and asking them to go and check and risk them laughing at me and walking away. And I was right, wasn't I? I got there just in time. Would have gotten there earlier if it wasn't for bloody Charlie trying to kill me!"
"Wait, what?" Hermione gasped.
So Ron told them in depth everything that had happened to him. Professor Dumbledore looked amused at Ron's initial outburst but unperturbed by the rest of it (Hagrid or Kingsley must have talked to him about Charlie). And Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all looked properly horrified.
"Oh, poor Charlie…" Ginny whispered.
"I should have gone with you…" muttered Harry. "I shouldn't have been such a stickler to the rules and just gone with you. I could have helped…"
Yeah, why didn't you, you git… Ron bristled at Harry's words, but tried to shove down as quickly as it came.
"Well, Hermione?" he asked, when he was finished. "Your turn. How were you made Plottable again?"
Hermione bit her bottom lip, unsure.
Merlin, did Ron love it when she did that.
She glanced with hesitation at Dumbledore, who urged her to continue.
"Well, the only way for a person to lift an Unplottable is by one of three ways. First, if the caster lifts the spell which honestly I don't think any of us sees Dolohov doing. Second, if the caster themself has died, which we already know wasn't the case. And lastly, if the place...or person, in my case...is destroyed," said Hermione.
Ron paled at this. Harry drew in a sharp breath.
"You mean…"
"What she means to say…" Dumbledore broke in, studying Hermione's face. "Is that Dolohov must have cast a powerful Memory Charm on her to have made a spell such as his Unplottable one to think that she is no longer with us. By destroying her memories—a huge part of who she is—he was in essence destroying her."
There was a hush following this dangerous pronouncement.
"Shite…" Ron swore.
Nobody chided him.
Professor Dumbledore continued. "Perhaps he did this when he found there was no way he could take you out of the wards, Hermione. He may even have tried to do much worse, but you were thankfully saved in time. No, my dear, I must ask of you if you would like to take a week and go stay with your parents' in their safe-house? You do need to recuperate after all, and I can imagine you would want a break from Hogwarts, considering everything that has happened in the past few months?"
Startled, Ron, Harry, and Ginny looked from Dumbledore to Hermione. She too looked taken aback by his offer.
"Erm...to be honest with you, Professor, I don't know," Hermione told him. "But I also don't know if I'd be able to sit in a classroom come Monday and take tests and continue as if nothing had happened. I don't know how I'll feel being back around my classmates and teachers. But…but at the same time, I don't think I could just go back to my parents and leave Ron and Harry at school, even if the danger has now passed." Hermione wrung her hands, biting her lip again. "What…what do you think is the right thing?"
He smiled sadly at her. "I wish I could tell you, my dear, but I cannot. All I can tell you is to trust your own instincts. It might honestly be beneficial for you to go into hiding with your parents until this war is over. If you do choose to stay at Hogwarts, I promise that we will do everything we can to help make things as bearable as possible for you. And Miss Granger," he added, bending in close to her. "Know that it is okay to not be okay. You have an amazing amount of strength for someone so young. You are no doubt an amazing witch and you have already accomplished great things! You've shown that from your first year at Hogwarts. But it's okay to feel hurt about what has happened to you. It's okay to be sad, or angry."
She nodded, blinking away the tears building up in her eyes. "All that I know is that I need to be with Ron and Harry," she told Dumbledore truthfully. "They are my family."
Ron and Harry both grinned.
"Alright then," Dumbledore said, nodding. "That settles it. I will let your professors know that you will be staying at school, and that they need not ready work for you." He stood up. "Thank you, for taking the time to speak with me. Please know that if at any time you change your mind, I will understand. My door is always open to you if you need me, as is your other professors'. Take these next few days to relax and build up your strength. Don't push yourself too hard."
Dumbledore walked towards the doors of the hospital wing, and Harry walked with him, speaking to him in low murmurs. Ron, however, wasn't listening.
He stared out the window, feeling sick to his stomach. His whole body was coursing with an undefined rage at what happened to Hermione. At what almost happened, too. She'd been so close to the wards...that bastard had been so close to winning, and if he had succeeded…
Thank Merlin we found her.
Ron grew faint with the worry and stress of the situation.
Sighing, he looked over at Ginny, and saw with amazement that she had laid down on the bed opposite Hermione's and fallen asleep. A light snoring could now be heard. He grinned ruefully. She always could sleep like a log.
He pulled his own bed closer to Hermione's and laid down in it. His skin was starting to smart from the dragon's attack, and he took another swig from his potion bottle that Pomfrey gave him to help mend his skin and manage pain.
Hermione smiled sleepily over at him.
"Thanks…" she whispered. "For coming to save me."
"Oh…" he whispered back. "It was nothing…"
Their eyes closed, though try as Ron could to keep his open so he could just stare at more and thank Merlin that she was safe and sound...not dashed upon the rocks below the Quidditch tower...not dead in the Forest...or taken to Voldemort...or turned into a werewolf…
"What am I going to do with the pair of you…" said a voice wryly, half in jest and half extremely serious.
They both peeked open their eyes.
Harry stood over them, looking down at the pair of them in their bandages, and shook his head, arms crossed.
They stared up at him, confused. "What?"
"Running me ragged, the both of you. First I had to go save Ron from the dragon, and then we had Hermione worrying us sick, and then Ron ran off again, and then Hermione had us worried sick again… I thought I was supposed to be Hogwarts' resident damsel-in-distress."
Hermione laughed, the tinkly sound floating around them, warming Ron's heart.
"Oh please, Harry," Ron said with an eyeroll. He leaned back onto his pillow, arms folded behind his head, crossing his legs. "You have laid on your deathbed in this very same hospital wing far too many times to count. Dunno 'bout you, mate, but it's only fair to share the limelight."
The grin slid off Harry's face at Ron's words.
They both knew the truth of what he'd said all too well. None of them were used to Ron and Hermione being the targets of Voldemort's wrath. This was all new territory for each of them. And Ron would have given anything for Hermione to not have to be the one laying there next to him in pain. When he thought of what Dolohov did to her…
He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth loudly.
"McLaggen must have stolen the Snitch from the game," Hermione muttered. "But Dolohov couldn't have cursed Norberta...that magic would have been too powerful. Really, when you think about it, only Hagrid and Charlie could have gotten close enough to do it."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Hagrid hatched Norberta, so the life-long tie is there. And Charlie raised her…"
"Are you saying Charlie was in on it?" Ron snapped.
"No!" said Hermione, aghast. "But I am saying that dragons are so powerful that Norberta broke through Hogwarts wards! No Death Eater could have just sneaked up on Norberta and cursed her. Because dragons are so powerful, their fire is laced with magic. Say they are at the cave and Hagrid is trying to get Norberta and Grawp settled in. They put up the wards around them. But Norberta is smart. She quickly finds out that every time she blows out a puff, it breaks right through the wards where it touches, leaving an opening she can possibly fly through. And when Hagrid wrote that note on the door, he said—"
"—that he'd gone to show the cave to the 'visitors'," Harry broke in, realization setting in. "Charlie obviously would have gone with him. Dolohov must have been one of the visitors in disguise! And if Norberta was able to break through Hogwarts' wards because of her own superior magic, plus with that bit of her 'nesting' and her magic feeding into the wards..."
"—then Dolohov could very well have used her to break himself in as well!" Hermione said triumphantly.
"Right," said Ron grimly. "And that would have been the perfect way for him to Imperius Charlie into siccing Norberta on me and setting her loose. That slimy, pock-faced bastard..."
"Was Dolohov also the Death Eater in Hogsmeade that delivered that death threat to you, Ron?" said Harry. "And the one who cursed both of you at the start of term?"
Hermione shivered.
"Well it was either him or McLaggen, and I don't reckon that pompous arse could have been that great a dueler," said Ron. "Whoever that bastard was, I won't let him get away with it."
Harry sighed gravely, then collapsed on the bed on Ron's other side. "At least we're done with this nightmare. McLaggen was the spy at Hogwarts that Voldemort sent. He's been taken care of. He was helping Dolohov. Malfoy, surprisingly enough, wasn't. But he did start out trying to help Voldemort. Until Voldemort chose McLaggen instead, for some bizarre reason unbeknownst to us. And Dolohov Imperiused Charlie into cursing Norberta because only Charlie could really get closer to her and tame her enough and also know where the right spot to hit her was. And then Dolohov let in his pet werewolf to come and do some of his nasty work..."
Hermione nodded slowly, trying to keep up with him but also looking too exhausted to want to bother with brainpower. Ron was the same.
Their eyes started closing again.
"I am so sorry to hear about Crookshanks, Hermione," Ron murmured, looking at the sorrow on her face. "That must have been terrible for you. And everything you went through..."
His sentiments surprised both himself and Harry, but they were nevertheless true. Ron probably would miss the orange furball running around anyhow.
"Thank you, Ron," Hermione whispered.
"Merlin, am I glad this is over," Ron muttered as they settled under the covers. "At least we can breathe easy now...no more Death Eaters after us...no more werewolves and beasties...no more Head Boys and Slytherins...finally, we don't have a price on our heads…finally...we can sleep..."
And with that, the three of them fell asleep.
Author's Note:
Whoo! This chapter was a doozy! Took bloody forever, I'll tell you. Well...granted, I didn't work on it for a week after posting the last chapter. I was only preoccupied with finding termites in my house and my baby having a severe allergic reaction to plants he was playing next to.
Hope you all enjoy this chapter anyway, even with all the blood and gore. The next one ("The Halloween Ball") will take a while coming too because I have to rewrite a few of the scenes and add in a few new ones, sorry to say. But it makes the story loads better, I promise, spending all this time on it. And we are entering the last inning!
Any theories on what lies ahead?