I forgot the disclaimer in the first chapter: None of the charies are mine. I'm borrowing them to throw them into my warped perception of the world, twisting them way OOC, then grinding them into pulp. Please don't sue, I'll return them in just as good condition as they came!
AN: Okay, I've been cranky lately. I'm just a bitter old lady (wait, HOW old am I now? 15, 16?) who isn't used to getting so few reviews on something this big. But I can deal. No more forum-plugging for me. Thank you to everyone who did bother to review helpfully. Seriously, suggestions and requests are welcome! I've still got to get through the 4th, 5th and 6th days, and I have NO CLUE what I'm going to do. So anything you want to see happen (maybe) let me know, and I'll see if I can do it. Just no rabid-sex (LOL Chamed!), okay? I don't do that (yet… I'm not legal yet…) Yeah.
Oh yeah! THANK YOU to Rose Tangle for giving me a REAL review. It helped. (Yes, it did feel a bit like a flame, but I also know constructive criticism when I see it!)
So now, a few notes: 1) I know people have been acting WAY OOC. Two reasons: one, if you haven't noticed, strange things are going on, Harry's head got kinda messed with in chapter two when they were at breakfast. Two, it's been a few years, people change. Hell, I went from nerd-of-the-world when I was 13 to miss-hyper-"hottie (a nickname)"-actress-flirt now, and I'm 15. Think about it. Harry's been having to deal with being "Mr. Great" for quite a few years now, don't you think it might cause a little bit of emotional strain? In addition, Hermione's had to deal with whatever other crazy stunts and disasters Harry and Ron have been through, so she's probably a little toughened and not as uptight.
Well, those are MY theories at least. Please bear with me then. I'll try to do better.
And the titles of each chapter. They're really important to the theme, so I won't give it away, but if you just think about them a little bit "Read between the lines" as my favorite English teacher likes to say, you might see it.
Chapter 1: He Separated the Light From the Darkness—Ron disappeared. Metaphorically speaking, Ron could have been the light/darkness that was separated from Harry (the opposing light/darkness)
Chapter 2: He Separated Waters from Waters—Harry made a separation between heart and mind. I also made some references to "flood gate" and "boiling river", but I guess some people missed it.
Chapter 3: Let's see if you can figure it out, okay? If you still don't get it, ask me. And after whatever chapter is the end, 6 or 7 I'm thinking would make a LOT of sense, I'll explain the REAL meaning behind the titles if you can't figure it out.
SORRY FOR RAMBLING! ENJOY THE NEXT INSTALLMENT OF AND THERE WAS MOURNING:
Chapter 3: He Planted Seeds That Would Bear Fruit: The Third Day
Harry sat silently by the lake staring at the silvery reflection of the moon over the water, his arms wrapped tightly against his slender body, his skin eerily pale in the silver moonlight. He needed some alone time, away from everyone else, away from Hermione, away from the memories, away from his classes, just time to think. Harry ran his thumb over the cut on his shoulder, watching as the warm blood trickled over his icy body, marveling over how thrilling it was to inflict pain upon himself. It made him feel in control, knowing he had the power to suck his very own life from himself. At least he had control over something in his life. It was nice to know he could end his life whenever he chose.
He shivered in the chill December night air. It was stupid to go outside without a shirt on, but Harry wasn't in a safe, responsible mood. He was tired of being The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter The Great. He wasn't even sure if he knew who Harry Potter was anymore. His whole life was a façade, a show for people so that they'd see what they wanted to see: someone who was in control, someone who could do no wrong, someone who knew nothing of the word "fear". Oh, Harry knew about fear all right. That icy tendril was forever creeping upon his heart, intertwining with his soul. Harry feared life. He feared the day Voldemort would return. He feared befriending anyone for the fear that Voldemort would come after them too.
Harry was so consumed with his thoughts he didn't hear the footsteps coming from behind him. He didn't feel the worried gaze cast over him. He jumped when he felt a warm hand on his cold shoulder.
"Why do you do this Harry?" Hermione's voice was pained.
"It's my body," Harry replied, keeping his gaze at some far-off point over the lake, "I can do what I want."
"Other people care about your body too, ya know," Hermione sat down beside him. She wiped a trickle of blood from one of his numerous cuts, "In muggle society, they'd have you psycho-analyzed for this."
"Then it's a good thing I'm not a bloody muggle," Harry snapped. Hermione flinched, then looked away. Harry's features softened a bit, "I'm sorry. It's just all this stress…"
"I understand," Hermione said, "I suppose." They sat in silence for a few minutes until Hermione started to shiver. "How can you stand this? It has to be near freezing out here." Harry simply shrugged.
"Do you want my shirt?" he motioned to the sweater lying on the ground a few feet away, "I'm not going to use it." Hermione monitored Harry's judgement, and deciding he wouldn't use the sweater for himself, pulled it on. There was another awkward pause. Hermione took to studying Harry. He had aged so much over the past few years, it was hard to tell that he was the same person. His prepubescent features had matured into a handsome face with delicately chiseled features. His green eyes were hardened with the pain that had accumulated over the years. Harry's forever-messy hair rustled in the breeze, the chill wind tousling the unruly locks in a wild, appealing way. Hermione noticed how all the rigorous Quidditch practice had paid off, leaving Harry with a lean, muscular body. She noticed as his muscles ever so slightly tensed up and shuddered in a small shiver.
"Let's go inside," Hermione suggested gently. Harry didn't reply but simply stood up, silently voicing his assent.
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The Gryffindor house was silent as they entered hand in hand. At some point during their walk Hermione's hand had found its way in Harry's and they continued on like that, Hermione's small warm hand clasping Harry's larger, icy hand. The common room was deserted, as was to be expected at this time of night. Harry walked Hermione over to the girl's dorm.
"Good night," he said--a bit stiffly, he noted. Hermione smiled up at him.
"Good night to you too," she said, "And please," her face became solemn, "Don't hurt yourself any more, okay?"
"I promise," Kiss her! Harry's mind screamed at him. He leaned down and gently brushed Hermione's lips with his. "See you in the morning," he began to walk away but Hermione grabbed his arm.
"Maybe we could… you know… stay up for a while longer," Hermione said shyly, her lashes lowered over her eyes coyly.
Now look what you've gotten me into! Harry scolded the inner-workings of his mind. He put on a half-smile, "If you really want to…" he didn't get to finish his sentence before Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and captured his lips in an intense lock. She pushed him against the stone wall and began exploring his jaw and neck with her mouth until returning to his lips.
Harry was taken by surprise. Since when had Hermione been so… feisty, dare he use that word? This was a side of her that he had never seen. No, he had seen it before, in her determination, her drive to survive and win and succeed. He felt her fingers tangle in his hair and her other hand roamed his bare chest. Harry felt a pang of guilt that he was not actually enjoying this as he should be. He tried to respond like he felt he should, but just wasn't into it.
He let her continue for another minute or so and finally pushed her away gently. "'Mione, I'm just not in the mood tonight, ya know?" Hermione looked a bit hurt, but nodded.
"I understand," she replied, "'Night." She retreated to her room without saying another word.
Harry sighed heavily and retreated to his own room. He glanced in a mirror outside the door and winced to find some defined bruise-and-bite marks on his neck and jaw line. That would result in some teasing the next morning. He opened the door and was surprised to find the light on and Neville and Dean sitting on their beds, talking quietly and worriedly. Their heads snapped up at the sound of the door opening and relief flooded their faces.
"Oh thank God Harry!" Never exclaimed in a hushed whisper, "We were worried about you!" Harry looked around the room.
"Where's Seamus?"
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Hermione got little to no sleep that night. So many thoughts and emotions were twisting around in her mind it was hard to keep up with one thought to the next. Why had she acted like that, outside the dorms? It's not like she's that super-attracted to Harry that she'd-- attack him like that. It also bothered her that Harry was so unresponsive. He seemed interested, but didn't really act like it. Hermione shoved it aside as him being concerned about Ron. Ron. An icy grip of fear clutched her heart. She hadn't really thought about him yet. When Harry told her about the step and the cloth, she hadn't believed him. Dumbledore would know best, right? He's always been kind, and almost always correct and taken the right course of action, so when Harry had been chained up like that, Hermione wasn't sure that all of Harry's mind was quite all there. But she hadn't seen Ron all day. She hadn't seen him yesterday either. All those students were missing. Dumbledore was acting so strangely. What happened to Ron? The other kids? What if he was indeed dead? Strange things did happen to Harry, and warnings like that weren't taken lightly.
Finally, Hermione could cry. She simply let her tears wash away the frustration and the fear of not knowing, not being in control. She didn't know what she'd do if Ron was dead. He couldn't be! Not like this! A cold determination settled on Hermione's soul. She would not rest until her friend, friends, were found, safe and alive.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Harry awoke the next morning to a pounding on his door. He groggily opened it to see Hermione fly straight into his arms.
"They're gone, Harry!" she was breathing face, "Parvati and… and…"
"Lavander too?" Harry guessed. Hermione nodded.
"Everyone!" she sobbed, "They're just… gone! Last night I decided that I wasn't going to get emotional, I was going to be rational and get everyone through this, but I wasn't expecting to wake up to an empty room!"
"Hermione, calm down!" Harry ordered firmly. Neville stared at them from his bed.
"Dean…" he whispered, "Look at them. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" There was a long pause, "Dean?"
Dean, too, was missing.
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A solemn Harry, Hermione, and Neville walked silently down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Normally the large room was bustling with hungry students, but today it seemed so empty, almost half the usual number of students was absent.
"Harry, what's going on?" a frightened Neville asked him. No one was eating. Almost everyone was milling about in confusion looking for missing peers.
"I don't know, Neville," Harry said grimly, "But I swear to you I'm going to find out." The three remaining Gryffindor 6th years sat down at their table and merely sat in silence, pondering what was happening.
What's happening? I know weird things always happen, bad things seem to happen every year when Harry's around, but this is the weirdest. What happened to everyone? I'm kinda scared. I wish I could do something, but I can't. Nothing I ever do turns out right. I just hope Harry figures something out soon before more of us disappear. Why isn't Dumbledore doing anything?
What have I gotten myself into? I just volunteered to fix this. I promised that I'd fix it. I can't do that! I don't even have the foggiest idea where to start. I guess the trick step, but… I doubt EVERYONE fell into i. I mean, Dean was there last night, and now he's gone. Who's doing this? Normally I would jump to Voldemort, but there's signs that go along with that. My scar hasn't hurt since… oh… last year during that big catastrophe. I don't know what I'm doing any more. Hermione looks so weary and drained, I feel bad about leading her on like that. Why am I doing this anyway? Is there really a purpose to getting close with her? All I've ever found from getting close to people is heartbreak, why am I doing this?!
Why is he looking at me like that? Damn you Harry! I'll never figure him out, never. God, why am I thinking of him right now?! We're in the middle of a crisis and all I can think about is my bloody love life! But at the same time… Harry's not been himself. I've seen him with other girls and he always looked like he enjoyed kissing, why wasn't he responding any last night? Hell, he even looked like he was enjoying himself at the Yule ball last year when Draco got drunk and Crabbe dared him to kiss Harry. That was sick though, why am I thinking of that? Probably because Harry was having a good time with Cho and I left early to go re-read Hogwarts: A History—again. I swear I know that book by memory now! Let's see, page 257, paragraph three, line seven 'In 1478 Hogwarts befell a tragedy never seen before in recorded history. The Headmaster, Rufus Wallafell, methodically slaughtered all the students and teachers, day by day, for unknown reasons. Many rumors…'
Hermione's eyes widened at her realization. "Harry, I've got it!" Harry and Neville's heads snapped up and stared at her. "This happened before, here at Hogwarts! Students disappeared every day because the—" Hermione vanished in mid-sentence, right before Harry and Neville's stunned eyes.
"Hermione! No!" Harry cried out reaching for the empty air in front of him, "Dammit!" he screamed "What the hell is happening?"
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"Harry, what's going on?" a frightened Neville asked Harry.
"I don't know, Neville," Harry said grimly, "But I swear to you I'm going to find out." They sat down at the mostly deserted table, falling into silence.
After a moment, Hermione gasped and her eyes lit up.
"Harry, I've got it!" Harry and Neville snapped to attention. "This…I… ah blast! Nevermind, I forgot." Hermione sighed. She had just remembered something like this from something she had read, but it left as quickly as it came.
Harry jolted. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! He knew somewhere deep down in his soul something had just happened, something unnatural. It was like de ja vous, but different. It was as if the same thing had happened before, but the outcome was different. Harry lay his head down in his hands as he began to develop a serious headache.
"Harry, are you okay?" Neville poked him on the shoulder.
"No! I'm not okay!" Harry snapped at him. Neville shrank back, chastised, "People are disappearing and I feel like it's my fault! And there's nothing I can do to stop it because I don't know what's going on!" he pounded a fist onto the table, "I hate my life!"
"Harry," Hermione said gently, lying a hand on Harry's, "You have to calm down and think rationally."
"I don't want to think rationally!" Harry snatched his hand out from Hermione's. Somewhere in his mind Harry knew he was acting childish, irrationally, but he couldn't stop. A small seed of doubt sprouted in his mind, questioning his own control over his mind. It felt as if someone or something was trying to push his normal, controlled self out and let his inner, uncontrollable side loose. It felt like his head was splitting in two. "I… I'm going to skip classes today. I… I can't think, at all…"
Hermione, even in times like this, frowned at him and scolded him severely about the consequences of skipping out on his classes. Harry didn't hear her. A ringing in his ears grew louder and louder with each passing second. The noise of a thousand rushing trains filled his mind, screaming their rage, tearing his mind apart. Harry couldn't tell if he was screaming or not. The pain was so intense he couldn't imagine not screaming, but if he was, he couldn't hear it. He could only hear, only feel the power boiling in his mind. Power. Not his. Someone else's, and it was raging in his mind, grabbing, ripping, tearing apart.
And then Harry knew no more.
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He awoke to two frightened faces hovering in his vision, as well as a crowd of other children gathered around him. He tried to blink the harsh light out of his eyes, it hurt too much.
"Harry? He's awake Hermione!" He vaguely heard a voice call out. It was like his head was packed in a thick fog. Where was he? What had happened? He tried to recall something, anything, but all his mind could dig up was betrayal. Someone had betrayed him, but who? Was it that other boy who had spoken? Perhaps. Was it that girl with the bushy hair clinging to his hand? No, she seemed to care too much. Those who you think care are the ones who rip you apart, something in his mind told him.
"Harry, Harry, can you hear me?" the girl asked. Harry? Who was Harry? He knew nothing of this Harry. Only one thing was planted in his mind: betrayal. He shut his eyes tightly as another headache came upon him, a single voice, crying out from the depths of the fog, clawing its way to the surface. No! Get out of my mind! Let me back in control! Noooooooooooo…
"NO!" Harry cried out, his arms flailing wildly about him. The cluster of students backed off quickly, leaving only Hermione and Neville standing by him. Harry opened his eyes and looked around. "Why am I on the floor?" he asked Hermione and he grabbed a chair and pushed himself to a sitting position. "Guys?"
Hermione shooed the worried students away and knelt down to Harry's level. "You started screaming," she said gently, "clutching your head, and then you fell to the floor in a fit. I was afraid you were having a seizure. Then you woke up and didn't seem to recognize any of us." Harry blinked. Something nagged at the back of his mind. "Is it… You-Know-Who?" Hermione whispered.
Harry shook his head, "No. It was my head, not my scar. We—all of us, we've been betrayed by someone. Someone here at Hogwarts," he took a deep breath, trying to grasp that information that had been implanted in his mind, "I don't know." Hermione looked skeptically at him, but then decided that it was not a good time to start doubting Harry, but there was still that small seed, planted in her mind. Dumbledore thought something was wrong with his mind, now Harry has a fit. Can he really be trusted?
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Harry sat by the lake that night, staring into the night sky. He took his wand from his pocket and touched it to his forearm, drawing it slowly across the tender flesh, leaving a trail of crimson life in its wake. Control, he was in control, no one could take this control away from him no matter how they tried to invade his brain. He stared at the blood as it welled up to the surface and then poured out, trailing in rivulets across the length of his arm and spilling onto the frozen ground. This was his only escape. This was his only stronghold. This. This control. This… power…