A/N: Here's chapter 10. Only 2 more to go after this…I'll get them up soon, either now, tonight, or tomorrow. Everyone go and read everything written by Lupin because not only is she a great writer, but she is a wonderful beta reader. I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed me. If you're an author and have reviewed me: if I haven't read and reviewed something you've written yet then I'm working on it, I promise!
Chapter 10
"Is something wrong, Michele?" Harry asked over lunch.
"No, nossing is wrong," she said quickly, with an angelic smile. "Why do you ask?"
"Well," Harry began, suspicions fading as he looked in her eyes. "You've been…distant lately," he murmured as she drank from her pumpkin juice.
"I sink zat you are full of it, 'Arry. Loosen up a little."
He smiled at her, grateful of the way that she could make him melt. Maybe he was in love.
"Are we still going to practice today?" Michele asked. "I 'aven't forgiven you for being late yesterday, you know."
"I'm really, really sorry about that," Harry replied, a look of genuine repentance on his face. "It will never…" he stopped as she started to laugh.
"I was just kidding, 'Arry. Besides, any grudges I 'ave will end when I beat you in our Quidditch match next week."
"Heh, you wish," Harry grinned.
"No, you do. Now come on, let's go," Michele said, smiling mischievously and, or at least Harry liked to think, seductively.
They had just reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts practice room when Snape emerged from his office.
"Potter," he said, surprisingly without a sneer, "I need to speak with you. Alone. Please step into my office."
"What about, sir?" Harry asked, unwilling to leave Michele.
"It's a rather personal matter, and will be discussed in my office. Now, if you please."
Harry sighed and turned toward Michele, who was looking a little exasperated. He then looked back at Snape. "How long will this take?"
"Honestly, I expect it to occupy a good portion of your day."
"You can go, then," he told Michele, disappointed. She walked off in a huff, upset that her afternoon had been spoiled, and he looked after her, surprised that Snape was being as patient as he was.
After she had disappeared around a corner he followed Snape into his office, and the sight of the interior caused him to jump. Seated in chairs were a worried Remus, a tearful Hermione, and a solemn Professor Dumbledore.
"What…" Harry began, a funny feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.
"Please sit down. We have some bad news," said Snape as he lowered himself into the chair behind his desk. Harry slowly sat in the only vacant seat.
"Harry," Professor Dumbledore began, "You know that Voldemort is back."
"Where's Ron?" Harry asked suddenly, realizing that Ron's absence was an oddity due to Hermione's presence. The feeling became worse as Hermione began to cry. "Wait a minute, where's Sirius? If this is such a serious situation, where's Sirius?" No one spoke. Harry's breath choked to a stop in his throat. "Are they…did Voldemort…"
"We don't know, Harry. They've been taken," Dumbledore finally said gravely. "Between last night and this morning, both Sirius and Ron have disappeared from their beds; their rooms were found in shambles and notes were left. Here they are," Dumbledore stopped, showing Harry two pieces of parchment and answering his silent question, "but please, do not be too alarmed at their contents, someone is obviously trying to scare you—"
"They're doing a bloody good job!" Harry yelled, momentarily losing his temper. He sat back and closed his eyes, trying to regain his composure. "Sorry," he said softly. Hermione was now crying more than ever, and Remus moved over to put a hand on her shoulder. "May I see the letters, Professor Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore silently obliged, and Harry silently read them over.
Here's the first one.
This makes two. You're next, Harry Potter.
The Dark Mark was at the bottom of both pieces of parchment.
Harry closed his eyes again, pushing himself to keep the little amount of composure that he had left. "What now?" he asked.
"We have people looking. There are already some leads," Dumbledore said.
"Don't lie when you answer this question. Do you honestly think that they are alive?"
"I don't know. It is likely that they are alive, and Voldemort is trying to lure you into looking for them."
Harry mumbled something unintelligible under his breath. "What am I to do, then?"
"Stay here in school. Increased security measures are being taken, and you are not, under any conceivable circumstances, to leave the protection of the grounds and/or go into an area where you know there will be any kind of trouble. Understood?"
Harry nodded numbly, unaware of the fact that his lip was trembling.
"I will owl you every day to tell you any news regarding the situation."
Harry nodded again.
"Serveus will be watching out for you here. Please make an effort to continue with your studies, and if anything—and I mean anything—out of the ordinary happens, you are to owl me immediately and then go to Serveus. Is everything clear?"
Harry nodded yet again. "Sorry about earlier," he muttered apologetically.
"It is alright and understandable. Now, I must get back to Hogwarts. Miss Weasley is in quite a state, and I am afraid that panic may spread once word of the disappearances travels. I will contact you soon. Please accompany me, Serveus, I would like to speak with you." Dumbledore left with Snape, and soon only Remus, Harry, and Hermione were in the room.
"Why?" Harry asked, his voice wavering. "Why the hell is this happening? Why doesn't he just take me and be done with it?"
"Don't say that," Hermione said quietly.
"I will be looking for them personally," Remus said. "Believe me, this won't be a pathetic attempt at a search."
Harry nodded. "I know," he said.
"I wish I could stay longer, but I have to get started," Remus said, standing up. "Right when I get a job, I have to go and ask my employers for time off so I can search for their missing brother."
"Who?" Harry asked, pleased that Remus had finally gotten a job but too upset to show it.
"Fred and George Weasley. I'm their bookkeeper and more."
"They don't know yet?"
"No. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were owled before we came, and probably have yet to even read the letter let alone write their children. Hermione owled Ginny from Hogsmeade, or else she wouldn't know either."
Harry nodded, and Remus bid him and Hermione goodbye and then left.
Harry found himself staring at the floor, but was interrupted when Hermione put a hand on his shoulder.
"Let's get out of here, it gives me the creeps," she muttered. Harry nodded, and they both left for their tower and eventually ended up in Hermione's dorm room. She proceeded to burst into tears again, and Harry resumed staring at the floor.
"It's going to be alright, Harry, I think, I hope," she moaned, still crying. He started to laugh despite himself.
"What a picture we must make, eh?" he joked, hugging Hermione tightly. "You crying your eyes out, and you're comforting me." She returned the hug and also started to laugh through her tears. They pulled apart, and both managed to regain some semblence of composure.
"What happened at Hogsmeade?" Harry asked
"Just what Dumbledore said. I walked upstairs to get Ron, and his room was torn apart. There was a note on the floor; you saw it. No one heard anything suspicious before then, it was a complete shock."
"No clues at all as to whom it may have been?"
"You know what I know."
Harry went back to staring at the floor. Hermione stared nervously at him, wishing he would do something else. "They want you, Harry."
"No, really?" he mumbled.
"Don't be sarcastic with me right now!" Hermione snapped, turning away from him and wringing her hands. "I can't take it, alright?"
"Sorry," Harry said tentatively, looking at her. "I stand by what I said earlier; I wish they would just take me and have it over with."
Hermione didn't answer; she was crying again. Harry went back to staring at the floor.
"Well, what are we going to do about this?" she asked, suddenly moving her watery gaze to him. Harry looked oddly at her.
"Um, what Dumbledore said," he answered.
"Oh please, Harry," Hermione shot, her voice contradicting her tear stained face. "Spare me. You always say that, then sooner or later you get lured out of the school and into danger, unprotected, and are forced into a head to head battle with Voldemort."
Harry paused. "Oh yeah. Well, I suppose we wait until that happens then."
"I hate this. We're in this situation too often…we're running more than we're living."
Harry felt something solidify inside him, and he knew that he wasn't going to run anymore; however, he didn't vocalize his thoughts. He sat with Hermione, her comforting him and vice versa, until dinner.
***
Ron was sweating and trembling; he was clad only in his shorts and he felt the heat of nearby fire stinging him all over his exposed skin. There was a high, cold laugh in the background, and then the pain began. It coursed through every capillary in his body, and his every last cell was screaming in hot, burning agony. His pupils were dilated; his breath came in short gasps; it was nearly impossible to see his surroundings, even after the blinding pain came to an end. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. The pain would return in one way or another, it was all a matter of time. He could have sworn he heard thunder, but the only concrete thing he had deduced was that he was underground. It didn't matter because the pain was back again, like fire, burning, throbbing, and pulsing…
Harry woke up, sweating, trembling, and scared until he realized that it had just been another dream. He flicked on the light, pulled out a parchment, and blindly scribbled,
Dumbledore,
Dream. Ron. Cruciatus Curse. Fire. Darkness. Pain. Underground. Scar's hurting.
Harry
"Hedwig," he called groggily, trying to ignore the blinding pain (he had been keeping Hedwig in his room instead of the owlrey due to his dreams). His owl obeyed, and he tied the note to her leg and collapsed backwards onto the bed. Unwilling to close his eyes again, he took a quick glance at his watch ("Go back to sleep") and sighed. He hadn't slept well for a week. Each time his head hit the pillow, he dreamed of either Sirius or Ron, always waking up trembling around 4:00am in a pool of sweat with his scar hurting. Though their surroundings seemed vaguely familiar, he always woke up before he had time to place them. He grabbed his glasses, put a shirt on, and walked down to the cafeteria to get some breakfast, disregarding how he looked because he just didn't care.
This week was sent with compliments from hell, he thought as he walked. There had been no news on the whereabouts of his missing friend and godfather, and the only clues they received were in the form of Harry's dreams (Dumbledore supposed them to be true). He had been practicing with Michele all week for the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, but he still got the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. She usually kissed it away when he was in her presence for more than 10 minutes, but he still felt apprehensive over something. It was probably love, he decided. Maybe he would tell her his feelings after he cleaned her clock in Quidditch later that day.
Reaching the cafeteria, he found it empty, as it usually was at that time of the morning. Sitting forlornly with his orange juice and pop tart, he prayed that Sirius and Ron were alright.
***
"Potter and Bender are circling the field, no doubt looking for the other to either mess up or find the snitch. Potter, as I'm sure you all know, defeated Viktor Krum in an amazing race for our favorite little winged golden ball earlier in the season; however, Bender has proven herself a very worthy seeker as well, losing only once so far to the great Viktor Krum himself. And it looks like St. Michael is all patched up down there, so on with the match!"
Harry vaguely heard the commentary as he darted around, trying to shake off
Michele. Something's wrong, he thought; the way she was acting did not suggest friendly competition, but it did hint that she was out for blood. He heard cheers and saw that Tower 2 had scored yet again; he flew down behind the reserve keeper and shouted a few words of encouragement. It seemed to work, and he caught the next few quaffles.
Harry darted left, and Michele darted left. Harry dove, so did Michele. He looked back; he could see the fire in her eyes. As he was doing this, she suddenly accelerated and pulled ahead of him; he saw the snitch at the same time and was off like a shot. The cold wind slapped against his face and pushed back his hair. It easily penetrated his robes and he could feel his skin tingling at its touch. He accelerated as hard as he could and he pulled ahead of Michele, just in time to grab it before she did.
The crowd roared, but Harry didn't notice; he was flying next to Michele, who was giving him a defeated smile and telling him quietly that he had done well. He halfheartedly accepted the congratulations he received from members of his tower and teachers alike, all the while knowing that Sirius and Ron should have been there.
Through it all, he noticed Michele disappear.
***
"Michele! Wait up!" Harry called, sprinting to catch up to her in the hall. She stopped and smiled.
"Salut," she said as he kissed her hello. She returned it halfheartedly.
"Are you mad at me for catching the snitch?"
"No, 'Arry—"
"Good, because there's something I need to say to you, Michele," Harry said happily, not noticing just how forced her smile had become.
"Wait, 'Arry, I—"
"No, you wait, if I don't say this now I never will. Michele, I think I'm in love with you."
"'Arry—"
"Look, I know it's sudden, but I'm so sure about this. You've been so good to me this past week…I don't think I could have survived it without you."
"Please, 'Arry—"
"Wait, I'm not done. This isn't being brought on just because of this week though, I swear."
"'Arry please let me—"
"I really, truly, honestly love you, I have for awhile, but I just haven't had the courage to say it—"
"'I'm seeing someone else!" Michele finally cried out.
Harry literally froze.
"I've been trying to tell you ever since you started talking…"
"Oh," he replied shortly, blinking.
"I am sorry, 'Arry, but it iz over…." With that, she walked away very quickly without so much as a hint of wanting to look back.
Harry didn't move. It wasn't true, he wasn't going to believe it, this was all a dream…and yet, there she was, walking away from him. A single desperate thought suddenly crept into his mind. "Wait!" Harry called just as she was about to turn the corner. She stopped and looked at him. "Who?" he asked. People were crossing between them in the crowded hallway, laughing and talking as if the world had not just ended. Michele hesitated.
"…Draco Malfoy." Then she was gone.
Harry walked around in a daze, looking for someone, anyone he knew that would offer him solace. Ron was gone, Sirius was gone, Hermione was holed up in the lab, Remus was busy and wouldn't reply to his owl for days, and his girlfriend, the only one who had been a help to him for the worst week of his life, had just dumped him for his worst enemy.
Unable to hold up his manly façade for any longer, he climbed the stairs to his room, lay on his bed, and cried to himself for over an hour before going to practice as hard as he could for his exam the next day. He had foolish hopes that he would become so tired that dreams would not plague him, and perhaps he could finally have a normal, only semi-tortured sleep.
***
Hermione had entered the zone, and she had no plans to stop working anytime soon. It was 5:00am, and she hadn't slept since the night before, but it was nothing that a handy energy charm couldn't fix. Her hands moved the quill across the parchment like fire going through dried grass, and her mind was working as it never had before. Everything was clicking, everything was working, and she could do no wrong. She didn't notice that the only candle still lit in the room had burned itself down to a nub or that the fire had extinguished itself long ago. All she knew was the parchment, her quill, and the melding of Avada Kedavra to the shield spell. She didn't notice the sweat dripping down her temples until it landed on the parchment, and with a quick wipe it was gone. Ron, she thought, wherever you are, you'd better appreciate this.
***
They were both there this time, in the familiar underground cavern, surrounded by fire, surrounded by pain, surrounded by darkness. Something was different, though, however similar the circumstances were…This time, he could see him. His beady, snake-like eyes protruded from his sick, gray face; the sinister smile he gave sent a shiver down his spine.
"I know you can hear me, Potter," he sneered.
***
Hermione suddenly pushed too hard on the quill and it snapped, splattering ink all over the blank parchment. Without a second thought, she grabbed her wand, muttered a spell, and watched the parchment return to its previous state of order. She glanced at her watch; four hours had gone by, and the candle she lit three hours ago suddenly went out like the one before it, and the one before that. "Accio Candle," she said, waited for a candle to jump into her hand, and then lit it with her favorite fire spell and continued. She didn't dare believe it, but an end was coming into sight.
***
"Have you been having a good week, Harry Potter? Especially in your dreams?" Voldemort asked as he put the Cruciatus Curse on Sirius and allowed Harry to simultaneously watch and feel his pain. "Enjoying this little slice?"
He prodded Sirius with his wand and the curse stopped, leaving Sirius panting and trembling from the wall he was hanging on. The metal cuffs clinked against the stone and made his breathing oddly apparent. Something was suddenly familiar about the surroundings, but he did not have time to reflect. "Don't answer, I can tell you've been having fun." He moved on to Ron, and Harry felt his insides burn. Voldemort snorted. "Harry, love, don't worry…they will be put out of their misery shortly.
***
She pushed, and pushed, and pushed, ignoring the pain in her hand, praying that it was the right thing to do. Her watch said 12:00pm, but it was Sunday and that meant that no one would be coming in to work. She didn't care; she didn't have time. Something inside her told her that it was then or never, and so she pushed more, finishing yet another parchment. Checking it carefully for nonexistent errors, she moved on to the next and possibly last parchment that she would need.
***
"I can just feel you panicking, you insolent child. Barely wizarding age, and already infused with the thought that you or anyone else could possibly stop me." Harry couldn't have answered even if he had wanted to. "Remember this?" Voldemort suddenly pointed his wand at Ron and shouted a familiar curse; Ron proceeded to violently retch slugs down his front and onto the stone floor. "I know it all, Harry Potter. I've been aided, of course, but he hardly did it of his own accord, so I will take the credit. I know your hopes, your fears, your silly and pointless ambitions…and the manner in which the two people you care for most will die." He put the curse on Sirius as well, seemingly just for kicks. "Am I the only one out of the two of us that is able to see the irony in that?" he asked with a hint of a cold smile.
***
Time had flown and dragged simultaneously. She was virtually at the end, and only one problem remained: would she be able to cast the spell once it was finished? The last one had been so difficult that no one could perform it except for Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard in the world. She was not Dumbledore. Therefore, even according to Darwinian logic, she could not perform the spell if it were as difficult as the last one. She saw the sample spiders in the jar to her right and, as she hesitantly wrote down her final equation and solution, hoped.
***
"I'll be generous, Potter. I am feeling generous today." With that, he again performed the Cruciatus Curse on both of his victims; Harry could neither watch nor look away. "I'll give you the time." He stood back and watched Ron and Sirius tremble on the wall and spew slugs out of their mouths. Harry would have gasped if he could have; Ron's eyes had rolled back into his head.
"Let's say, oh, 8:00pm tonight. No, even better, 9:00pm. I'll let them live in another hour of pain, just for you." Voldemort finally removed the curse; by this time, both Ron and Sirius were even more limp and motionless, if possible. As Harry took in the appearance of the wall and the shackles, a memory that he never wanted to think of again began to play inside his head. "And as for where they are," Voldemort sneered, "I'll leave that to you…Oh, and good luck on your exam; I wouldn't miss it—if I were you, anyway. Good evening, Potter."
***
A purple jet of light seemed to fly from Hermione's wand and engulf the frail body of the spider in a purple bubble; the spider kept crawling, and soon the bubble faded into transparency. Hermione fell back into her chair, panting, breathless, and speechless. She could not actually test the spell, of course; if it were successful, she would be killed when the killing curse reflected off of the unassuming spider and hit her, the person who had cast Avada Kedavra. However, she did not think of such things; it had to work, it just had to.
She was finished.
***
Harry tried to hang onto his vision, despite the pain and torture, as he was forcefully brought back into consciousness. Everything was more familiar than he wanted to admit; the stone walls and the floor, the atmosphere… Suddenly, his eyes snapped open.
He knew where they were.
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