17. In the veins

Relentless drizzle was falling on a country lane, pleasantly cool after the heat of the day. Hermione stood completely still and listened in the half-darkness, the nearest streetlight twenty metres away from her. The drizzle made no sound, but it was cool against her cheeks, in contrast to her head, which felt hot and swollen inside her skull. It's true: the crueller you are, the worse you feel, the stronger it gets. She started off up the lane, pulling up the hood of her overcoat. I don't care about the rain. I just want to hide my head. Hide from who? She can see me anyway. She sees everything.

She scarcely even saw the car coming down the lane, the unseen driver blasting the horn as the car swerved around her. She felt the rush of metal an inch from her body, but it could have been a mile away. She thinks I'm as good as one of hers. Not yet, Lillian, not yet. I'm still coming for you, if I don't die of shame first.

After about a hundred metres she came to an ornate wrought-iron gate. Beyond the gates, the lights of a house were visible at the top of a slightly overgrown upward-sloping front garden. She took out her wand and cast a summoning spell. Calm. Calm. Forget about it for now. Just expel it from your mind. Should be easy.

A few moments later Caius Hanmer appeared on the other side of the gate. She pulled down her hood for a moment and his eyes widened when he saw it was her. He clicked his fingers and the gate swung open.

'Trick or treat?' she asked, an odd smile on her lips.

'Where's your costume?' he replied with mock seriousness.

'I've come as myself,' she said drily. 'Isn't that scary enough for you?'

He contemplated her for a moment, the rain still coming down on them.

'Didn't bring my bag of sweets to the door I'm afraid,' he said at last, his expression a little more sober.

'Well, it'll have to be a trick then,' she replied, with an air of forced gaiety that struck her as slightly crazed. 'I'm good at those. I can do some particularly nasty ones these days.'

'You can show me inside if you want.'

They walked up the slope towards the house, the two of them scarcely visible against the darkness engulfing the garden. Caius asked no questions, which suited her. Through the gloom, she could make out the rough walls of a sturdy stone house of fairly ancient appearance, light peeking out of several small windows.

'I hope I'm not disturbing anything, or anyone,' said Hermione as Caius opened an old oak door that seemed wider than it was tall and gestured for her to go inside.

'No, I'm here on my own, apart from the house elf,' he replied. 'My parents are in the south of France.'

They stepped into a narrow, rather dimly lit hallway with a flagstone floor.

'I think I remember that you have a sister?' Hermione ventured, slightly embarrassed at how little she knew about him.

'I do have an older sister,' he replied. 'Her name's Braith. She has a farm, high up in the Berwyns.'

'Is that far from here?'

'Not far. We're down in the valley here.'

They stopped in front of a second oak door. Next to it Hermione could make out a medieval-styled painting of a man dressed in bishop's robes. Beneath the painting were the words Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.

'Saint Germanus', said Caius. 'Our household saint, so to speak.'

He pushed open the door and they went into a long, high-ceilinged room with exposed stone walls. A fire burned in an ornate stone fireplace, two armchairs arranged before it. She shivered in spite of herself.

'Are you cold from the rain?' he asked as they went towards the fire.

'No, I found it refreshing,' she replied. 'It was such a hot day today.'

'Not here,' Caius replied. 'Cool and damp most of the day.'

He contemplated her curiously as she held her hands out towards the fire.

'I'm sorry, Caius,' she said, looking across at him. 'I really should explain myself.'

'There's time for that in due course. Can I get you something hot to drink first?'

'Thanks,' she said, nodding gratefully. 'It really is autumn up here.' That's it, get the pretence going. It's not like you've done anything horrible this evening. You've just come in from the cold, poor thing. Caius nodded and left the room.

Once she was alone she took off her coat and sat down on one of the armchairs by the fire. A green border ran around the fireplace, which, when combined with the grey of the stone, conjured up the colours of Slytherin. Arranged around the room were various pieces of ancient-looking furniture.

Caius returned quickly, accompanied by a surprisingly tall and very pale house elf bearing a mug of hot soup. He bowed smartly and immediately presented her with the cup of soup, laying it on a trestle table that had appeared next to her armchair.

Before she had a chance to respond, the house elf was besieging her with offers of a bath, food and clean clothes, with a rapidity that seemed to take even Caius by surprise.

She hesitated before the barrage of hospitality. How can I accept this? After what I've done … What we've done. What Harry had done was simultaneously the worst and best part about it.

Despite her repeated insistence that she didn't need anything, Caius assured her that resistance to his house elf on matters of hospitality was useless. Shaking her head, she accepted, acknowledging to herself that it was ridiculous for her of all people to think she could refuse a house elf's offer of hospitality. She managed to escape the offer of a bath on the grounds that she had only taken a shower earlier that evening, but was only allowed to explain the night's events to them once she had made reasonable inroads into supper. She felt guilty at how easily the food slipped down. How convenient it is, all this activity and fussing, it makes it much easier to forget.

'So?' she said once she had finished bringing Caius up to date. 'What do you think? A complete disaster or only a partial one?'

'I … Just give me a second,' Caius replied, hesitating as he processed all the information and squinting at her oddly. 'You've been … err … pretty methodical about this mess you've made.'

She half-smiled.

'I suppose so,' she said at last.

'Even I'd have been hard pushed to manage something like this.'

'That doesn't make me feel any better,' she replied. 'But then again I don't really deserve to.'

'The only thing that bothers me is that you didn't confide in me,' said Caius in a more serious tone. 'I'd have taken Lillian Herrick seriously.'

'That's true,' said Hermione. 'But as time went on and nothing happened, I just felt more and more embarrassed to mention it to anyone else. No one believed me. And now things have started moving, they're almost moving too fast for me to think clearly. Hence all this mess.'

'So how can I help now?' said Caius. She wasn't sure whether or not there was a trace of reproach in his voice.

'I'm sorry,' she said ruefully. 'I didn't think that far ahead. I just ran out of there like a coward, leaving Harry to clean up the mess. Not that there was any way for him to do that. And this is where I ended up. I'm sorry. I don't want to create any trouble for you.'

Caius laughed out loud.

'Create trouble for me? Don't you know who you're talking to? So what if we have the entire Weasley family cursing me at the front gate by tomorrow morning?'

Again she smiled in spite of herself.

'Seriously, what do you think about all this?' she asked, looking pointedly at him. 'Do you think I'm mad?'

'Let me show you something,' said Caius, suddenly rising to his feet. He beckoned for her to follow him across the room, to a portrait that hung on the far wall. The portrait was of a tall, sober-looking wizard with a dark, greying beard and sharp blue eyes. He wore a long black robe with a coiled, silver-coloured dragon embroidered on his chest.

'My grandfather Lysander,' he said with a smile.

'The Head of the Coven of the White Tooth?' remarked Hermione, looking up at the portrait.

'Ah, you of all people would know that,' said Caius. Then he took out his wand and pointed it at the portrait, muttering an incantation under his breath. The coiled dragon unfurled its wings then flew straight off the painting, disappearing into the darkness.

About a minute later the apparations started, and within less than two minutes 12 wizards were standing before them in Caius's living room. Each was wearing a black robe with the same dragon motif. Hermione turned to Caius with a look of surprise.

'After what happened two years ago,' he said, 'I decided to make a few changes. The first was to come and take over the running of my parents' house, now that they spend most of their time in Languedoc, enjoying what they refer to as their 'well-earned retirement'. And seeing how things have been going at the Ministry, and what with the witchfinders, and the Citadel, and Lillian Herrick and everything, I decided that the kind of work done by my grandfather might someday be in demand again. So I put together a new coven. And here it is. It's a secret for now. Which means that it's an unregistered wizarding organisation. But if you ever need us, you'll have thirteen wizards ready to help you.'

She looked at the assembled wizards and witches and struggled to find something to say to them.

'Sorry to have dragged you out of your homes this evening.' she said after a rather long pause.

'Don't worry, he's been dying to do this for ages.' A tall girl with pale grey eyes and long, wavy blonde hair spoke up from the centre of the line. Hermione realised that the girl's face was familiar from Hogwarts, more precisely from the Gryffindor common room. The girl must have been a few years below her, because the last time she saw her, she was barely into her teens.

'And to tell the truth, we've been dying to get a chance to do this as well,' she added with a broad smile. Hermione scrutinised her bright and pretty face, trying to put a name to it.

'You were in Gryffindor, weren't you?'

'That's right,' said the girl brightly. 'But I think you only ever spoke to me once. I'm Meredith Dulse,' she added sticking out her hand. 'Most of us were at Hogwarts, so we all know you.'

'Oh yes, Meredith Dulse, I remember now!' Hermione exclaimed. 'You're Caius's cousin … Sorry for not remembering,' she added, embarrassed at not having known her name.

'That's alright,' said Meredith. 'I was a few years below you at Hogwarts.'

Now Hermione looked more closely at the faces of the Coven. It was true: most of them looked vaguely familiar, but they must have been much younger and smaller when she last saw them, on the corridors of Hogwarts or, in some cases, even in the Gryffindor Common room.

'Let me introduce everyone,' said Caius. 'Two Gryffindors, three Slytherins, five Ravenclaws and two Hufflepuffs. All fresh out of Hogwarts in the last couple of years or so. From left to right: Bethan, Elijah, Rhian, Azariah, Nia, Osian, Meredith you've just met, Adam Harries and Adam Talfryn you've also met before of course, Sioned, Elen, and lastly someone else you might recognise.'

A small witch, some years older than the rest, was standing demurely at the end of the line.

'Hello Hermione,' she said in a quiet voice, looking at her with big eyes that were instantly recognisable. It was Serena Lynch.

'Serena, I had no idea,' said Hermione, rushing over to greet her. 'I haven't seen you for ages. You did a bit of a disappearing act.'

'I've been living away from wizarding society,' said Serena. 'But Caius tracked me down and asked to join his group. It sort of felt like the right time to come back to magic.'

'She's our secret weapon,' added Caius. Hermione nodded. Neither of them had forgotten Serena's prodigious ability in legilimency.

Hermione looked along the line once again. The new generation. She turned to Caius.

'How much does everyone know about what's going on?' she asked. Caius turned to Meredith.

'How much do you know about everything?' he asked.

'We know who Lillian Herrick is and we know about the witchfinders and the new vow wizards, mainly from Serena. We don't know much more than that, but we're ready for action whenever you need us.'

'Do you want to give a stirring speech to the troops?' asked Caius, giving Hermione a wink.

She hesitated for a moment. She wasn't sure if she had any right to give a speech, or if she was even capable of it. She decided she had to say something, regardless of the state she was in.

'This is the second time this evening that I've tried to give a speech about what we're facing,' she began. 'The first one didn't go too well.'

She felt the colour rise to her cheeks and stopped.

The assembled coven followed her in silence.

'I know your faces from when we were all at Hogwarts, even though we never really got much of a chance to know each other.'

'You gave me detention once when you were a prefect,' piped up a small, black-haired wizard she seemed to remember being called Azariah Evans. Everyone smiled, Hermione included.

'A few of you I also recognise from the Ministry,' she continued. 'In which case you'll already have heard that I've gone round the bend.'

There was a little ripple of noise around the group.

'All I can tell you tonight is what I've seen so far. What has been shown to me, by Lillian Herrick herself, are a number of lost openings to the wizarding world. There are at least seven, but I suspect that there could be many more. In fact, we suspect that the entire magical barrier between the magical and the non-magical is weakening.'

She paused.

'You mean the Separation is weakening?' asked a tall, dark-haired witch. Hermione remembered her name was Sioned, but couldn't place her in any of the Hogwarts houses.

'That's right,' she replied.

'That's bad,' Sioned murmured, half towards Hermione, half into the ear of the skinny, green-haired witch standing next to her.

'Very bad,' Hermione concurred. 'But that's more a theory we've got rather than anything concrete. Anyway, this Lillian Herrick claims not only that she has the power to pass through these gates or holes, but that she will show them to Mr Morley, the Witchfinder, and usher him through.'

'A muggle let other muggles through the barrier?' remarked the green-haired witch nervously. 'Can she really do that?'

Hermione nodded soberly.

'I'm afraid so. Not only does Lillian Herrick wield a powerful form of 'white-eyed' magic (here she glanced at Caius), but she also has a sort of coven of her own. And as for these witchfinders, they're well organised, and, as you know, have some rogue wizards helping them.'

'The new vow wizards,' added Meredith.

'Exactly,' Hermione replied. 'That's pretty much it. And that I don't know what to do. I believe I'll be shown the remaining gates, but that won't stop them being breached, if it comes to that. If I'm wrong, or deranged, or just very gullible, that can only be good news for you. But if I'm right, I think you've done the right thing by forming this coven. You'll be better able to protect yourselves and others.'

She stopped and glanced at Caius.

'Sorry, that wasn't a very encouraging speech.'

'At least we know what we're facing now,' said Meredith Dulse. 'That's something.'

'Yes, but not much,' replied Hermione. 'But well done anyway for forming this group.'

'We're only really doing what you did last time, when you faced Voldemort,' said Meredith

Hermione couldn't quite look the girl in the face.

'Things have changed a bit since then,' said Caius suddenly, stepping forward. 'Fighting muggles would be pretty different from fighting Death Eaters.'

Meredith stepped back, trying to catch Hermione's gaze and probing her face with a concerned look.

'You're not on your own, you know,' she said to Hermione in a low voice.

Hermione looked up and smiled. What a mess I must seem to these people, she thought to herself. She reached out and put her hand on Meredith's.

'Thanks,' was all she could bring herself to say. A rather long silence followed.

'Do you need us any more tonight?' asked Adam Talfryn.

'No,' said Caius. 'We're done for this evening.'

One by one, the Coven departed. Serena was the last to go. She gave Hermione a long hug before disapparating.

With the room almost empty, she felt tired and deflated. She leaned against an armchair, grasping for a coherent thought.

'You probably want to rest,' said Caius at last.

'If it's ok for me to stay one night, that would be great,' said Hermione.

'You can stay as long as you like,' was the reply.

'Oh, I couldn't do that,' she said sadly. 'But could I make one request though?'

'Of course.'

'Would it be possible for me to be put somewhere far away from the rest of the house?'

'Whatever for?'

'How can I put it?' began Hermione. 'I'm afraid I might be a little bit strange as a houseguest. My nocturnal habits are a bit … odd.'

'Believe me, strange nocturnal habits are nothing new to this house,' replied Caius.

'Please trust me on this one,' said Hermione, as plaintively as she could manage. Yes, trust me. Ha ha.

'God knows I've been called a strange guest myself enough times,' said Caius finally, 'I'm not sure the label fits you, Hermione, but if that's what you want, don't worry about it, it can be arranged.'

'Thank you,' said Hermione, a wave of relief washing over her.

'We have a sort of outbuilding at the back end of the garden,' continued Caius. 'A little cottage really. Its front door opens out onto the lower lane. The place has been shut up for a few years, but it's furnished and would just need a good cleaning and airing. It's in a shaded spot, so it's quite private. Nobody would bother you there.'

Hermione smiled.

'It sounds ideal. I can't tell you how grateful I am.'

'Ah, forget it,' said Caius. He looked out the window and frowned slightly.

'Perhaps I should take a look around outside. Just in case. I suppose Lillian Herrick will know you're here.'

'Do you need any help?' said Hermione, beginning to stand up herself.

'No,' replied Caius. 'But come with me anyway and I can show you the cottage.'

When they got outside the rain had stopped altogether. Behind the house was a rather overgrown lawn that ascended a low hill, which concealed the rest of the grounds from the windows on the ground floor. On one side lay a small orchard, while on the far side of the hill was a low gate, which led through a small ornamental garden, marked at its end by a row of ash trees. Beyond the trees, partially screened by a hedge, stood the cottage, a small, rough expanse of grass around it. It was a small, gable-ended building with a lower floor and an attic above it. It stood at a slanting angle towards the fence that ran along the back end of the Hanmer family property.

The building was painted a dull white, while the door and the window frames were black. Once Caius had performed a series of spells to clean and reinvigorate the house, they went inside. The front door led straight into a stone-floored kitchen, which shared the ground floor with a sparsely decorated living room and a rather ancient bathroom. The first floor was divided between two bedrooms, one larger, one smaller. The interior was sparse and tired, but seemed to Hermione to be a more than suitable place to shelter for the night. Caius quickly withdrew, leaving her alone. She passed through the kitchen into the living room and sunk into a musty armchair, unsure if she had the energy to make it up the stairs.

She sat alone in the dim light. Everything hurts. She shivered and pulled her legs up under her on the armchair. I did what had to be done. A chill ran through her. She stood up quickly, crossing the room to the dark window at its far end. Can't forget anymore. There was nothing to be seen through the window, apart from the little beads of rain clinging to the glass. She turned back: the room was lifeless and utterly silent. She walked slowly back to the centre of the room and closed her eyes.

A bleak, battered hillside rose up before her in the night, ending in a flat peak strewn with boulders and crowned with a jagged rock formation. Flames chased each other into the night sky, high above a single figure that stood before a fire, its elongated shadow darkening the rock walls. This time it's her in person. Her long dark hair blowing in the wind, Lillian Herrick followed Hermione with her gaze until she stood in front of the fire. Hermione lingered some distance from the flames.

'Payment accepted,' said Lillian. 'You've earned this one.'

Hermione looked up at the jagged rock formation that spread across the hilltop. At the pinnacle, two contorted masses of rock arched towards each other, almost touching.

'I suppose we'd better get on with it,' said Hermione sullenly.

Lillian half-giggled.

'You seem bored, Hermione.'

It's pointless trying to hide anything.

'I'm not bored. I'm tired. Tired of this game. I'm just glad we're nearly done.'

'Unless I've found some more.'

Hermione smiled bitterly.

'That's true. But in the meantime, tell me about this place.'

'You've seen what's above us of course,' said Lillian. Hermione nodded.

At the point where the two outstretched branches of rock met, they seemed to form a door-shaped space. Its edges were smooth, rounded and scorched, as if the opening had been formed by a sudden surge of fire.

'It's known locally as the Burned Door, although some call it the Devil's Peephole. Witches held sabbats here for hundreds of years.'

'Real witches?' Hermione asked.

'In recent times I think only self-imagined ones have been coming here. But it wasn't always like that. What do you think?'

'I can feel traces of genuine magic here,' said Hermione quietly.

The shadow of magic was faint but seemed once to have been powerful. The sensation it created in her was something like a distant, but very large explosion.

'The door has been examined by archaeologists,' Lillian continued. 'They concluded that the fire is man-made and dates back over two thousand years, but they couldn't come up with any plausible explanation for it. Magic isn't a plausible explanation, of course.'

'Of course not.'

'It's supposedly the sight of some terrible act of destruction enacted by an Iron Age wizard,' said Lillian. She had moved to stand next to Hermione as she looked up at the Burned Door.

'The curse was so powerful that you can still feel the trace. Sometimes the rock still feels hot.'

She wondered if the place really could be the site of a battle between some ancient forerunners of Dumbledore and Voldemort. Why not? There were wizards then too, presumably lost to history.

'In a way, this was the first gateway I found,' said Lillian. 'Although I didn't know it at the time. I visited this hill on a school trip when I was a teenager. Even then I felt that there was something special about the place. I was the last to leave that day. I almost missed the coach. They had to send someone back to get me.'

Hermione looked at her. She seemed younger for a moment, a reminiscence of wide-eyed excitement illuminating her face.

'Do you miss those times?' she asked suddenly.

Lillian continued to gaze up at the door.

'Of course. How could I function if I didn't?'

She turned to look at Hermione, the flames from the fire reflected green in her eyes.

'You understand better now, don't you?'

Hermione nodded.

'You're very strong now, almost strong enough to break me. You really stuck the knife in this evening.'

'I know.'

'And when she got hers, it felt good, didn't it?'

Hermione took a deep breath.

'Yes, it felt good.'

'And how does it feel now?'

'It feels terrible.'

'And the memory of what it feels like to be good is agony.'

'It is.'

'But the light hasn't completely gone out.'

As Lillian spoke, the hope swelled again inside Hermione. Pride in what Harry had done for her that evening.

'No, it hasn't. I'm not alone.'

Lillian contemplated her sadly.

'You're lucky, Hermione. I'm glad for you. Glad that he saw where you were going and decided to come with you.'

'I suppose it makes your victory sweeter,' said Hermione. 'And it means I'm still weaker than you.'

Lillian shook her head slightly.

'This isn't a victory. And even if the hope in you keeps you weaker than me, don't assume it's because I have no hope at all. What was it you said? I don't know whether I'm supposed to defeat her or lose to her.'

Hermione frowned.

'You listen in on all my private conversations, I suppose.'

The glimmer of a smile.

'Oh, I wasn't listening in. You were talking directly to me.'

Hermione's heart plummeted. In an instant it seemed like it had passed out through her feet and embedded itself in the ground. Have I been that careless and stupid?

'I wouldn't use the word stupid, Hermione.'

She wanted to walk away — no, run away — right that instant. But of course there was nowhere to hide.

'You were so careful the first time you spoke to him. Did that give you a false sense of security? That was perhaps a little careless, after so obviously provoking me to respond.'

'So that's why he seemed so close to giving in.'

'He proved himself to you in the end. That should be a comfort to you.'

'And I suppose you impersonated me that night too.'

'I'm afraid so. I think mawkish was the word that came to his mind. I don't know whether I should take it as criticism or a compliment.'

She tried to look inward, as if there was some physical trace of Lillian inside, a tiny fragment that she could grab hold of and cast out.

'How did you do it?'

'Oh, just a little shifting of time.'

That's a new one.

'Of time?'

'Yes. You were both there, at the lake, only not at the same time.'

Hermione exhaled deeply.

'Will you teach me that, if I become one of your helpers?'

'Hermione, I'll teach you everything I know. And you'll do much better than me too. You're so much purer than I am; you have so much more capacity to suffer usefully.'

'You'd have me distrust the breath that comes out of me,' Hermione replied at last, her voice numb.

'You needn't worry about that,' Lillian replied calmly. 'I was just responding to your challenge. It was a demonstration. Next time you speak to Harry, you can be sure you'll be talking to the real one.'

'Thanks, that's so kind of you,' Hermione replied caustically.

'Wasn't I justified in doing it?' Lillian replied, almost a trace of concern in her voice. 'Didn't you try and provoke me by showing how clever you are?'

'Yes, you're right,' said Hermione in the same tone. 'I asked for all of this.'

'Careful, Hermione,' said Lillian. 'Feeling sorry for yourself will only weaken you.'

I can't get away from her. Either I lay down like a doormat and let the witchfinders come marching through, or I get closer and closer to her. And then goodness knows what will happen.

'Do you want me to become you?' she said, her voice rising as the anger coursed through her veins. 'Because if you do, we won't be sisters in misery. If I become your equal, I won't have any patience for games or for any kind of twisted sentimentality. I'll be your nightmare, Lillian, I promise.'

She was gone before the inevitable reply came, pushing her way out of Lillian's circle and escaping into the cool, clear air of oblivion.

The tired, shabby living room in Caius's cottage was before her again, but now every object in the room seemed to gleam with a strange, dark light, in minute detail, excessively real and at the same time utterly artificial. She felt a tingling sensation in her limbs and butterflies in her stomach. Her chest pulsed and throbbed, as if some kind of creature had awakened and was trying to tear itself free. Then she realised that the sensation was the beating of her heart.

She looked over to the window, where a baleful reddish glow seemed to have pushed aside the darkness. A course of action presented it to her. I've got to get a grip on myself. I'm not going to do that. Anything but that. She walked over to the window and put her hand straight through the glass. It's so easy now. The molten glass yielded, and she passed straight through it and out into the red night.

On the other side of the window was another room. It was immersed in darkness, but it had a familiar musty odour. Through the darkness the regular breathing of a sleeper could be heard. The room quickly revealed its detail. Piled high with papers and boxes, as usual. So he's fled too. I suppose it's normal he would come here. She stepped carefully across the rug and approached the bed that lay pushed up against one wall of the room. She stood at the side of the bed and looked down, reaching out a pale hand in the darkness to touch the sleeper. She ran her hand lightly through his hair and let it rest there.

'Wake up, Harry,' she said softly. His eyes flickered open and seemed to search the darkness blindly for a few moments, before finding Hermione's face.

'You seem different,' he said indistinctly, as he tried to shrug off the sleep. 'I can see you even without my glasses on.'

'Yeah, I'm a bit out of it,' she replied, suddenly noticing just how lightheaded she was. 'In fact I'm feeling particularly unpleasant. Cruel almost. Though I suppose it isn't surprising after what I did tonight.'

'You're not capable of cruelty,' said Harry.

'No?'

'Not really.'

He pulled himself up into a sitting position and reached around until he located his glasses. Hermione kneeled alongside the bed, her head tipped slightly to one side.

'Wasn't I cruel tonight? Beyond what was necessary. Beyond what was even true.'

The details of the evening began to come back to him. How they had all stared at him once Hermione had left. Ginny had taken out her wand and pointed it at him, as if to hex him. A tear had rolled down her cheek as she lowered her wand.

'Yes, but it was necessary, wasn't it?' he said.

'Yes, it was. But the thing is: it's not even repulsive to me. I'm starting to lose sight of where the line is, Harry.'

'That's why I couldn't let you do it alone.'

She seemed to be watching him with a strange smile on her face.

'Here we are again, eh?' she said, almost brightly.

'Yeah,' he replied. 'It kind of seemed appropriate to come back here.'

'Outside the wizarding world?'

'Something like that.'

'You had to get out of there too.'

Back in the living room, he had flailed around for a while for something to say, but a single phrase kept repeating in his head: it's over.

Ginny's last words to him had been: 'I don't know why she said you're bad actors. The two of you deserve an award. Particularly for your performance that night two years ago when you came walking back into the Burrow. You really had me fooled.' Then she had disapparated from the room. He had been left standing there, gawping at everyone who was left. What was it he had mumbled to them?

'If you think things are bad now, just wait: they're only going to get worse.'

Neville had been the only one to reply.

'When that day comes, Harry, we'll all be there. Until then, you'd better sort yourself out.'

This is probably about as sorted as I'll ever be. He remembered thinking that thought before he disapparated.

'You feel terrible I suppose,' said Hermione.

'Not great,' said Harry.

'I thought so. When I feel it I get stronger.'

She seemed to begin to drift away from the bedside. He stood up quickly and caught her by the arm.

'You're starting to sound like her.'

She smiled.

'That's hardly surprising.'

A scary thought occurred to him.

'Is that even you in there, Hermione?' he said with alarm.

She tried to extricate her arm from his grasp, but he wouldn't let go.

'Don't go that way, Harry,' she replied, her expression more serious. 'We'll never get anywhere if we don't even know who we're speaking to.'

'That's not convincing enough.'

'This is me and you're just going to have to get used to it,' she replied, her head swaying slightly as she spoke. The next moment he had pulled his wand out from underneath the pillow and had it pointing it at her. Her eyes glazed over in surprise and she started to laugh.

'What are you going to do? Exorcise me?'

He shook his head.

'Whatever's in there, it needs flushing out.'

Anger flashed across her face.

'I need to be like this to defeat her!'

'No you don't. You need to be how you usually are. How you are with me.'

The charm that occurred to him was a counter curse for the imperius curse. It's a stab in the dark, he reflected. But he cast the curse anyway, straight in her face. Its impact threw her backwards, causing her to half-stumble across the floor. Then she lurched forward and caught Harry by the arm. She looked up at him, her gaze dark and rigid.

'You ok?' he asked, his heart pounding.

'Much better,' she said, her voice softer and calmer as she straightened up. 'Thanks. By the way, it was me all along.'

'I know.'

'But you said…'

'As soon as the words left my mouth I knew it was you.'

They sat down on the bed next to each other. After a few moments of silence Hermione let out a jagged sob. Harry put his hand around her shoulder and pulled her against him.

'What's wrong with me?' she exclaimed, suddenly turning in his arms to face him. 'You gave up everything for me tonight and I turn up here like some sort of drugged up psycho. I'd ask you to kill me right now, Harry, if I thought it'd fix a single thing.'

'Don't say anything,' said Harry gently. 'This is all so beyond words.'

She pressed her forehead against his temple. Silence enveloped them.

'Even when you curse me it does me good,' she said at last.

He smiled. A little smile of hope. He turned her face to his to examine it.

'I didn't do you any damage then?'

She kissed him softly on the cheek.

'None at all. You were right of course. It's no good me becoming like her. But for a moment there I thought I did. I don't think even she wants that.'

'You've seen her tonight?' he asked. She nodded.

'I didn't handle that very well either.'

She looked around the spare room above Armin's shop. Her face was white but her movements and gestures were more precise and deliberate.

'He still hasn't tidied up in here,' she remarked.

'I don't suppose he ever will.'

'Do you think I woke him up with my behaviour?'

'Actually I don't know if he's here. He said he was going to some late night session. A seance or something like that.'

'That's a shame,' she remarked. 'He might have enjoyed this little scene.'

'So what do we do now?' he asked.

'No idea to be honest. Just wait for things to develop?'

He looked around very deliberately into her eyes.

'That is you in there after all?'

She smiled.

'Yes, it is. Sorry. Not feeling very inspired at the moment. I think I should just sleep. So should you, by the way. With any luck you won't have any more crazed interruptions during the night.'

Who knows?

'Did you want to stay here?' he asked.

'Thanks, but it's probably not a good idea. Things look bad enough as it is. Anyway, Caius has fixed me up with a place to stay.'

'Caius?'

'Yeah, in a cottage in the grounds of his parents' house.'

'Oh yeah, I think I know where you mean.'

'You've been to his house before?'

'To Garmons? Yeah, it's nice. Really… uh… solid.'

'It gave me that impression too. Did you ever meet his sister?'

'Braith? Yeah. She's not much like Caius. Very down to earth and responsible.'

'I don't know, Caius strikes me as pretty responsible these days.'

They sat in silence for what felt like a long time. Outside the window they could hear the dripping of rainwater from the gutter.

'How are we going to make amends?' Harry said suddenly.

Hermione smiled bitterly.

'I don't know. We have to solve all this first.'