I'm really really really really really really sorry! I don't have a good excuse for the lateness of this one. I just wasn't writing it, which is a bad excuse.
As you have hopefully read the other parts, this is not going to be nearly as funny, since it is the 'major battle scene' that isn't really much of a battle. Here and there towards the beginning, there are a few funny things, but other than that, not much. I apologize for the lack of humor, but this part isn't right for much humor, especially with it being Halloween and all….
I promise the humor will be back in Part 7! So don't have a cow.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own anything associated with it.
Pseudomortis
Part 6 - Hogsmeade
By KZerina
***
It was very early Sunday morning. Harry could hardly believe he'd been a ghost for an entire week, and now it was Halloween. Hogwarts had a great feast on Halloween that usually made his day much better than it had been throughout the beginning of the day when he thought about—his parents. Harry realized that he appeared on a ghost a week before his parents' deathday. He'd never really thought about it before.
Harry breathed a low, miserable sigh that made Ron shift in his sleep. Harry glanced over at Ron before lying on his back and staring at the scarlet canopy above his bed. At that point, he wished ghosts slept, but there was nothing he could do about it.
He could hardly stop thinking about his parents and that he might never see them. He was a ghost; they weren't, and no matter how hard he tried, Harry couldn't take his mind off his parents. As the sun rose, he continued to stare at the canopy, his parents never leaving his thoughts.
"Happy Halloween, Harry," came Ron's voice from beside him.
Harry had been so wrapped up in his lingering thoughts, that he hadn't even noticed his best friend wake up and move to sit on his, Harry's, bed. Ron was smiling cheerfully, but Harry looked up at him sternly and rolled on his side. Ron's smile faded when Harry snorted his disapproval of his smiling face.
"Harry, you okay?" Ron asked cautiously.
Harry didn't answer. In his opinion, Ron should know by looking at him or a calendar.
"We're going to Hogsmeade," Ron pressed. "Aren't you coming?"
"Yeah," Harry replied icily.
The Headmaster had declared that since the Halloween holiday fell on a Sunday, the day in Hogsmeade would be on Halloween rather than the Saturday prior.
"I'm going to get ready," Ron said quietly, clearly disappointed at Harry's lack of willingness to talk. He stood up and went to the bathroom to shower and change.
Harry breathed another depressed sigh and rolled onto his stomach. He stared intently at a diminutive indentation in one of the four posts of his bed, but soon it went out of focus as he began to stare into space with thoughts of his parents to guide him.
He was jolted out of concentration by a knock at the door. Neville's snoring skipped a beat as he woke up. Seamus groaned and rolled over. Dean looked strangely at both, but made no move of answer the rap, leaving Harry to do the job.
He lethargically floated to the door and through it, earning a high-pitched squeak from the visitor.
"Oh, sorry, Hermione," Harry said with no more enthusiasm than was necessary.
"Well, you're bright and cheerful this morning aren't you?" Hermione said sarcastically which gained no more than a snort from Harry. "Where's Ron?"
"Getting ready, I think." Harry looked over his shoulder. "Just a second, I'll be right back."
Without even looking to see Hermione's reaction, Harry floated back through the door. "It's Hermione. Could you tell Ron we'll be waiting for him?"
"Sure," Dean answered for all the boys, as the other two were still half asleep.
"Thanks."
Harry went back to Hermione. "They're going to tell Ron were waiting for him."
Then, Harry crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall next to Hermione.
"You are coming to Hogsmeade with us, aren't you?"
Harry nodded, his eyes staring blankly at the floor, surprised he had even heard her ask the question.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione pleaded, "I hate seeing you like this!"
Harry looked at Hermione with his peripheral vision, and, as she continued, turned his head to her with a softened gaze. Hermione met his gaze and faltered in mid-sentence.
A tinge of pink appeared on her cheeks, and she looked away quickly. "Sorry, I was rambling like a fool, again."
"No," Harry contradicted quickly. "You were just showing you care about more than just the fun and games of Halloween, and it-"
Harry was cut off by the door opening and Ron bounding out.
"I'm ready, let's go."
Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes and stood up straight.
As the trio descended the spiral staircase, Ron decided to ask one of the stupidest questions he had ever asked in his life.
"What's wrong with you today, Harry?"
Harry stopped in his tracks.
"Ron!" Hermione yelled in a tone that easily pointed out his daftness.
After getting over the shock of his best friend asking that question, Harry glared at Ron with such and intense stare that, if looks could kill, Ron would be a pile of bright red and flesh-colored goo flowing down the stairs. Ron shrank back to the wall.
"Come on, Harry," Hermione ordered, breaking Harry's glare instantaneously. "If he doesn't know by now, then we'll just leave him behind to figure it for himself."
She pushed past Ron and stomped down the stairs. She considerately waited for Harry at the bottom, and they set off for the Great Hall for breakfast—Harry invisible, of course.
Hermione selected a set of three seats near the Weasley twins and their best friend and Quidditch commentator, Lee Jordan. Hermione sat down, and Harry floated in next to her, leaving the third seat for their missing companion.
"What happened to our poor, dear, ickle bruder?" Fred asked, poking fun at the absent Ron.
"He was being really stupid," Hermione put simply.
"That's nothing new," said George.
"Yeah, he's always like that," Fred added.
"What did he do?" asked Lee sanely.
"He kept wishing Harry a 'Happy Halloween,'" Hermione informed them, "and couldn't figure out why Harry kept growling at him."
"Ooh…" Lee groaned.
"That was stupid," Fred commented.
"Stupider than usual," stated George.
"Yeah," Hermione remarked, helping herself to some eggs, "and it's a good thing Harry can't do magic or Ron would have been hexed and left behind instead of just left behind."
Harry snorted a laugh that he quickly stifled. Hermione looked up at him and elbowed through him, smirking compassionately, knowing very well that he didn't usually smile until the holiday feast.
"You laughed."
"So?"
"You just don't laugh on Halloween," Hermione smirked.
"So?"
"And you're a grump again."
"So?"
"You sound like a broken record."
"S-"
This time, Harry was cut off by frantic footsteps and loud screaming from his redheaded friend.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he screamed. "Where is he?"
"Where do you think he is?" Hermione questioned.
Ron examined the two spaces next to Hermione and left Harry's seat alone putting one space between himself and Hermione.
"Thank you for not sitting in me," Harry said, flatly.
"Why didn't you talk before?"
"Too much of my disembodied voice freaks you out."
"I'm getting used to it," Ron explained. "Sorry, about this morning. I don't know what I was thinking."
"That's the problem," Hermione teased. "You weren't thinking."
Ron glared at Hermione and swung at her through Harry. He thought it was rude to do such, but didn't feel like complaining about it at the time.
"Would you stop?" Harry directed. "Apology accepted, Ron."
"Really?" Ron said, abruptly ending the quarrel between him and Hermione.
"Yeah," Harry replied, reassuringly with a small invisible smile.
Ron grinned up where Harry was and sighed, relieved.
Hermione's eyes smiled even though her lips did not. Then she went back to eating her eggs and toast, quietly and slowly as she always did while Ron turned to his food and gulped down several servings in the time it took Hermione to eat one.
Harry waited patiently for his best friends to finish eating, and finally, after what seemed like five or six helpings, Ron was no longer able to stuff his mouth as he had stuffed his stomach instead.
Ron stood up and offered Hermione a hand to get up, and the three traveled the halls, through tapestry and secret passage, back to Gryffindor Tower. As soon as they entered the portrait hole, Harry became visible, and they lounged in the common room for a little while.
During that time, Nearly Headless Nick floated into the common room, brooding over his again-denied request to join the Headless Hunt.
"Happy Deathday, Nick!" Hermione greeted in an attempt to cheer up the irritable ghost, only making Harry more depressed, though he kept it masked with a smile for Nick.
"Hardly," he said glumly, "but it is considerate of you to say so. Thank you." Nick ripped up the letter from the Headless Hunt Committee, and it disappeared in a puff of pearly white smoke.
Harry leaned back in the chair and put his translucent tennis shoes on the coffee table in front of him. Nick looked him up and down a few times, Harry watching his gaze.
"What's eating you, Harry?" he inquired. "You're a little more distant than you usually are. Well there's the obvious point of Halloween, but you're usually not this bad."
Harry tried his hardest not to glare at Nick, succeeding. He sighed and looked around at Nick. "I'd rather not talk about it," he replied, tonelessly as he slouched farther into the spongy cushion of the chair.
Ron and Hermione exchanged concerned glances, and Nick just watched him, sink, not saying a word. Harry sighed and turned bright jade irises to his feet, once again brooding over the thoughts that had hung over him the previous night.
"Well, good day to you then," Nick said, clearly uncomfortable. Ron and Hermione whispered a simple ''Bye', and Nick floated out of the room.
The whole common room was shrouded with an awkward silence. The only sound heard was the soft crackling of the fire beside them. Ron shifted anxiously, and Hermione's gaze remained glued on Harry as he sulked to his heart's content.
The silent room was silent no longer as the approach of many excited Gryffindors was sounded with shouts, laughs, and heavy footfalls. Harry jerked out of his nightmarish reverie and glared swords at the back of the portrait, then, realizing how moody he'd become, sighed and reprimanded himself. He straightened his posture and covered his misery so it looked like his normal Halloween glumness.
"Maybe, you should go get ready to go to Hogsmeade," Harry suggested, trying to sound offhand, though he knew he'd failed miserably. "They'll be letting students out of the castle soon."
It was obvious by the looks his best friends gave him that they knew he was not in the best of moods but had gained control of himself and wasn't going to drop anyone on his or her butt if they said something he didn't like.
Ron shot a look at Hermione who nodded, and Ron went upstairs to the dormitory to gather a few things. Harry watched his as he ascended the spiral staircase just in front of the crowd of Gryffindor third through seventh years excited to go to Hogsmeade.
"Harry," Hermione said gently. Harry turned his head to face her. "Nick's right. You're more distant than you usually are on Halloween."
"On the other Halloweens, I actually had a chance to see my parents again. Now, I'm a ghost, and they're not, meaning I'll never see them."
"But, Harry," declared Hermione, "I've told you several times over, you're—not—dead!"
Harry was a taken aback by Hermione's sudden outburst. He couldn't do anything but blink for a good thirty seconds or more before he even picked up on what she had said. When he did, he shook his head and looked away from Hermione.
"Hermione," he breathed, "for once I'm going to say, I honestly think you don't know what you're talking about."
"Well, your hair is longer."
"How can you tell? It always looks longer than it is."
Hermione faltered. "You're taller, too."
"Two things: one, I'm sitting down; you can't tell, and two, you're with me all the time anyway."
"I have to look up higher to look you in the face."
"Are you sure I wasn't floating?"
"You're going to shoot down everything I say, aren't you?"
"Probably."
"Are you going to debate all day, or are we going to Hogsmeade?" Ron asked jokingly.
Harry hadn't noticed him come back, and, apparently, neither had Hermione since she had jerked her head towards him in shock.
"You can go get your stuff. The mob's made its way up the stairs and out of the way."
Hermione nodded. "I'll be right back, and you," she said pointedly at Harry, "don't kill anything before I get back."
"So I can kill something when you get back?"
"You made a joke!" exclaimed Hermione.
"I guess you could call it that if you want to," Harry replied in his deadpan tone.
"And you're still a grump."
"You expect otherwise?"
Hermione looked away, disappointment clouding her usually happy expression, and trudged up the stairs to gather her things.
Harry felt bad and realized he was not only feeling depressed himself, but he was transmitting those feelings to Hermione through the way he was acting. She was only trying to make his day a little better, and he just made hers worse. He gave himself a mental slap and told himself to shape up. She may be correct in saying he wasn't dead, but he doubted it, because why would anyone do that?
Harry shook his head and looked up only to be startled by looking straight into Hermione's cinnamon-toned eyes. He jerked back into the chair with wide eyes and clenched jaw.
"Well, are you coming, or are you just going to stare at nothing all day?" Hermione asked somewhat cheerfully, but with an annoyed undertone.
Harry nodded and almost swore Ron was sniggering, but when he looked, Ron just stood there as though he had been just standing there the whole time. Harry sighed and stood up when Hermione had gotten out of the way. He turned invisible and followed his best friends out of the common room and to Hogsmeade.
None of them said a single word the whole way to the Scottish town near Hogwarts, but when they reached the main road of Hogsmeade, Ron dashed right to Zonko's yelling something about Dungbombs, leaving Harry and Hermione far behind. They decided they would be more civilized and walk after Ron, as they knew he would be in the joke shop.
Harry, still disappointed in himself, resolved to take this chance to apologize to Hermione for being such a prat back at Gryffindor Tower.
"Hey, Hermione?" Harry said, nervously.
"Hm?" Hermione mumbled, not taking her eyes from the path she was walking.
"I was just—uh—going to apologize for being a prat," he managed. "I mean, I didn't mean to make you—um—upset."
"It's alright, Harry," she rejoined, quickly. "I know you didn't mean to, because you wouldn't do it on purpose. It's just the way you are."
"You were just trying to help, and I—I just pushed it away."
"No, Harry, it's just—just that—"
She stopped and never finished her sentence. Harry was curious to know what she wanted to say, but didn't ask since he didn't want to force her to say it if she didn't want to. He was sure she had her reasons for not saying it. Finally, they reached Zonko's and caught Ron before he ran amok throughout the shop buying some of everything. Luckily they were able to lead him out of the store before it became that serious.
The next stop was Honeydukes, Ron and Hermione got sacks of sweets while Harry waited patiently, longing to get some for himself but knowing he could never eat them. When the purchases had been made, the trio headed out the door and over to the Three Broomsticks where many students had gathered for butterbeers and long chats with friends. Ron and Hermione both ordered butterbeers and the three talked about nothing for a while.
Harry had been hoping to have a somewhat normal visit to Hogsmeade, unlike his third or fourth years, sneaking to the village or hiding from one person or another. Now he was with his friends and, sure, he was a ghost, but he was having a pretty good time, despite his horrible night.
His hopes were broken however when screams filled the streets, and a man burst through the door, a dark cloak covering his face, wand out and pointing it at the people in the room. Three more came filing in after the first, also with wands out and at the ready.
"Death Eaters," Harry murmured just loud enough for Ron and Hermione to hear him. They looked, wide eyed and dropped jawed, where Harry was and back at the intruders. Both sat frozen in their seats, unable to move.
Harry heard the leader mumble something to the others. Two walked in their direction and grabbed Ron and Hermione, grasping their hands behind their backs.
"Don't fight them," Harry whispered to each in turn. "I don't want them to use the Cruciatus or Imperious Curses on you. I'm going to see what's happening out there."
Harry flew out of the inn and onto the roof of the building across the street where he had a pretty good vantage point on the village. He saw Ron and Hermione, wrists bound in glowing, golden ropes, being forced out at wand point. He knew they were a lure for him and that they would be killed when Voldemort was done with them. He spied down the street and saw Voldemort with his vivid red eyes overseeing the attack on Hogsmeade. He also saw a pair of Death Eaters leading Snape in the same direction as Ron and Hermione.
Harry glided to the roof closest to Voldemort and watched as the three captives were brought before Voldemort, seemingly for judgment.
"His best friends, how quaint," he sneered, coolly, "and the traitor." Voldemort raised his wand to Snape's face. "Potter won't care if I rid the world of some slimy filth."
"The only slimy filth here is you and your trained attack dogs who are too stupid to know otherwise," Snape retorted, ardently.
"So vehement! I'm going to have fun destroying you," Voldemort said with villainous pleasure.
Harry watched intently, ready to pounce if Voldemort even started to say those fatal words.
"Any last words, traitor?" Voldemort taunted. "No? Then Avada Kedavra!"
Harry dove, knowing he couldn't die, to grab Snape's robes and pull him to the ground, but he wasn't able to pull Snape down. The curse his Harry's side feeling as though Gryffindor's sword had been rammed through his ribs. He dropped like a two-ton dragon with injured wings. He hit the ground with a loud grunt. Hermione screamed "Harry!" as he landed. Harry began to pick himself up and realized the whole village could see him and that Snape was still standing.
Harry's elbows gave way, and he collapsed to the ground again. His body was heating up so fast, he felt like he had been stuffed into a ceramics kiln. He opened his eyes and shut them immediately when he saw his skin glowing a blindingly brilliant white light. The heat overwhelmed him and when a bomb seemed to go off in his stomach, he disappeared and blacked out.
******
Sorry about the cliffhanger. I take forever to get this out and then I leave you hanging by a rope of the edge of the Grand Canyon or something! What kind of an author am I? :D
To the reviewers:
Tomorrow: My goodness you wrote a lot there! Geezo! Thanks for reviewing; you know you don't have to. 1:00 in the morning and the middle of summer is not a bad thing! No, your "angsty touch," as you so gracefully put it, has not rubbed off on me too much, 'cause I do have some ideas for other stories that are kind of angsty, but not really, so…anyway. Yes I suppose your right about the "hint." Although there are some others that are a little more blatant, but maybe it's just me. I torture Ron and Draco because it is funny, and I write humor, like Axisor. I'm proud of Axisor-sensei.
The whole idea of Harry and Hermione getting together will have to wait, and so will you. I just startle/embarrass/worry poor Harry, but I'm not telling you how just to be annoying. So, I'll see you when school starts in like a week, or something!
Lady Lightning: Sorry about the length of time of getting this out. (Stupid over-the-summer school assignments.) I'm glad you liked the story! Like I said this part wasn't as funny, but most stories have to have some sort of somewhat depressing chapter, right?
Thanks to both of my reviewers for part five. I'm glad I could amuse a couple of people.
Hope this was an enjoyable chapter, and I'll do my best to get chapter seven out as soon as possible. If my calculations are correct, that should be the last chapter to Pseudomortis. Please review this and tell me what you think!
Thanks,
KZerina