Disclaimer in Part 1
This is a Ron and Hermione chapter, kind of like an interlude. It covers how they react to Harry's behavior.
Ron wasn't a religious reader of the Daily Prophet, so when Tara came swooping in through the kitchen window with it clutched in her talons he didn't so much as bother looking up from his toast. Hermione, however, was all but obsessed with knowing every last insignificant detail of what was happening in the wizarding world so she immediately pushed her tea aside and grabbed the paper eagerly. But the second she took in the bold front headline she went a ghastly shade of pale and couldn't stop her hand from spilling scalding hot tea over the entire table, a strangled sound emerging from her throat. Ron looked up, frowning. Hermione rarely got upset.
Hermione's voice was almost impossible to hear as she replied. Gringotts - it's been robbed. And - and - She seemed unable to continue.
Ron looked stunned. He grabbed the paper away from her and his face immediately lost all color, his fork dropping onto the table with a loud clatter as it fell from his bloodless fingers.
He was shaking his head vehemently, denying it. No. This is ridiculous, this is absurd, this is impossible ! He stared back down at the front page where Harry's angry face glared back at him from beneath the headline proclaiming the break-in. It was some kind of horrible mistake. Harry would never do something like that.
Hermione's face had regained some color but still looked terrible, like her world was coming down around her. Which, in a way, it was. I - I suppose there could have been - a - a mistake -
You suppose ?
The two stared at each other, then back at the article declaring that Harry had broken into Gringotts and proceeded to rob a high security vault. It made no sense whatsoever, of course. Just ridiculous. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, committing a felony like that? How could anyone possibly believe that? Had the world gone mad?
We'll go see him, said Hermione, her voice shaking. We'll see him and find out that this is just someone's idea of a sick joke -
Ron nodded dumbly, trying to restore some sort of order to the sea of chaos that his mind had become.
* * *
But when they arrived, they found Harry's apartment to be deserted.
There was no sign of any kind of struggle; it just looked like he'd left one day for business as usual and never come back. Perfectly normal. Ron wandered around poking through everything as if he expected the answer to be lurking in the silverware or among the clothes. But of course it wasn't. There was nothing that was even a millimeter out of the ordinary anywhere.
So where'd he go? asked Ron miserably for what had to be the fiftieth time.
I don't know, came the cross retort.
Well why not?
Hermione crossed her arms and glared at Ron. I got here at the same time you did, she snapped, her voice tense and furious, eyes sparkling with irritation. She seemed about to go on but then stopped, a strange, dreamy expression coming over her face. Ron noticed immediately and flopped down opposite her in a squashy armchair which was a shade of green that matched Harry's eyes perfectly, recognizing the look Hermione got when she had just been hit with one of her ideas.
She didn't seem to hear him. Verblensvar Potion, she murmured, her eyes fixated on some far off thing.
Ron shifted impatiently. Say what?
Hermione seemed to come back to earth at this expression of his ignorance and launched into an explanation.
Verblensvar Potion. It's very complex and highly magical; when you take it you're sent into a deep sleep during which your consciousness is released from your body and is free to roam anywhere, very useful if you're looking for something in particular. You can will yourself straight to it.
So we could use it to find Harry.
Exactly. And even talk to him.
They stared at each other. said Ron matter-of-factly after the moment had stretched out for an unbearably long amount of time. What all do we need?
One hour and a trip to the Apothecary later Hermione was crouched in front of a simmering cauldron carefully adding ingredients as Ron read them off a page in Most Potente Potions. The thick midnight blue clouds of smoke that came billowing up every time she added something were making both of them feel rather drowsy.
Now add the dragon's blood and that's it, said Ron through an enormous yawn.
She did so and both of them stood back, blinking tiredly as they regarded the concoction. It looked like a skein of deep blue-black silk made liquid, with streaks of silver running through it, giving off a faint scent of lilacs and roses. As she looked at it Hermione felt herself sway forward as her sense of balance slipped away; she felt like she could lose herself in that rich midnight color, just slip down, down into those luxurious depths -
She felt a hand on her arm and jumped. Ron was looking at her as if he'd just asked a question.
When will it be ready?
She looked down at the book, her eyes scanning the page. In two nights. We take it during the new moon.
Ron smiled tiredly.
* * *
Waiting to take it was agonizing. Harry still didn't show up, but all kinds of bizarre rumors were being batted around: Harry Potter had gone off and murdered Muggles for no reason at all except to incite terror; Harry Potter had been seen conjuring the Dark Mark near Warwick; Harry Potter had been spotted consorting with werewolves and vampires in the forest. It was surprising how quickly he'd gone from being the most admired figure among the wizarding folk to one of the most feared; no one seemed to bother considering if the stories were true or not.
Why don't these people realize that Harry wouldn't do that, snarled Ron in exasperation as yet another rumor wormed it's way into their ears.
Hermione didn't answer, just looked troubled. She was starting, deep down inside, to have doubts. Harry wasn't acting innocent. He'd vanished without leaving any indication of where he was going, no one had seen hide or hair of him, and he hadn't even bothered to contact her and Ron. Which was as unlike Harry as all the stories were, in her opinion.
But she couldn't tell Ron that. He'd just get angry with her.
She stirred the Verblensvar Potion dejectedly.
He scrubbed his face and looked blearily at her.
I'm thinking that only one of us should take this. She indicated the rapidly simmering mixture with a poke of her wand. I mean, it's very dangerous to be outside of your body and if something were to happen while we were gone - Her voice trailed off miserably.
It would be better to have one of us in a position to do something, he finished, sounding resigned. Yeah, you're right. And I guess it should be you; you'd probably be able to handle it better than I could.
Hermione managed a weak grin. All right, then.
You'll take it tonight?
She nodded and the two lapsed back into an uneasy silence.
* * *
It tasted cloyingly sweet, like the perfume of a thousand roses made liquid, leaving Hermione feeling light-headed and dizzy. She staggered over to the couch and lowered herself onto it, noticing Ron hurriedly making his way to her side, looking concerned. She tried to summon a smile for him but she was falling, falling away from everything, sinking into the oblivion of sleep and there was nothing she could do to stop it -
And then she was hovering in a thick gray mist that she couldn't penetrate. She tried to move her arms, her legs, anything, but couldn't; there was nothing to move, her body was lost somewhere in those swirling clouds, she was stripped down to pure consciousness and nothing else. The potion had worked.
She felt panic rising up in her; this was scary; this was dangerous; this incredibly stupid; she wanted to go back - but the rational, thinking part of her brain was already kicking in. This was the way to get to Harry. Stop panicking and get going.
Focusing all her will into one single desire, she called Harry's face to her mind.
And then the gray fog suddenly melted away, revealing her to be speeding over rugged, threatening mountains toward a small speck on the horizon.
As she drew closer she saw that it was a castle, isolated in the midst of this - wasteland.
And then she passed through it's moldering walls to find herself in a small, gloomy room with only one window and one occupant - Harry.
The name rang against the ancient stone walls, echoing hollowly.
Harry raised his head and Hermione had the unsettling feeling that he could see her. What would have been her stomach gave a queasy lurch at the sight of his eyes - the expression in them was alien to the Harry she knew. It was a cold, calculating look - and for once he didn't look happy at her presence.
His voice was like ice. I was wondering when one of you would come after me.
Harry -, her voice faltered uncertainly. She wasn't quite sure what to say now. We were worried -,
Spare me the formalities, Hermione, he snapped, his voice sharp. What did you come here to ask?
Harry, there are the strangest stories going around about you. And, well, are they-
He gave her a joyless smile. No. But every rumor has it's roots, however weak, in the truth. I did rob Gringotts and used Dark Magic in the process - I suppose that gave rise to a lot of it -
Hermione felt horror coursing through her. Harry, no - not you -
Why not? His face was full of a frightening rage. Because I'm Harry Potter? Because I defeated Lord Voldemort? All of base your extensive knowledge of my personality on that one thing. You all thought I was so wonderful because of my scar, my tragic history. That's all you saw -
Hermione couldn't take much more of this. Harry - this isn't you talking-
His voice was suddenly very gentle. Look at me. Really look at me and then tell me if you think I'm under a spell.
She looked. She'd seen people who were being controlled before, knew how people looked when they were forced to act against their will. And saw none of that in Harry. He was different, yes, but there was no emptiness, no fogginess in his eyes. It was Harry looking out at her, a radically different Harry, but Harry nonetheless. He was doing this willingly. Because he wanted to.
And that realization threatened to rip her apart.
I never knew you, then, she whispered brokenly.
He smiled, a little sadly but without a trace of repentance. I suggest that you and Ron stay away from me. You don't want to get hurt.
But Hermione barely heard. She was rushing back to her body, wanting only to be gone. She'd heard enough.
* * *
Ron was bending over her, his eyes full of questions. Well -, he began, then cut off as he saw the look in her eyes. His own grew wide with horror as realization hit him.
What do we do now?' His voice was no more than a breath of air.
Hermione wiped tears from her cheeks. Contact the Ministry. We need Aurors.
Yes, I finally finished typing this!!!! Took long enough...I've got 19 reviews!!! For me, that's doing extremely well, I'm so glad there are people out there who like this!!! Thank you so much!!!