Twenty-Three reviews, eh? Woo-Ha! Muchos Gracias! Who woulda' thunk it? Anyhoo, here be Chapter 9…and a thanks to Lady Foxfire, for I now have the lovely image of a Draco-clad ferret scampering about Hogwarts in a ball…heeheeheeheehee!!!! Nothing he doesn't deserve, mind you…come to think of it, that'd be one pale, smirky ferret…Enjoy, amigos! ~8]
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Disclaimers: Really, now. It's the Ninth Chapter. Must we go through this waste of space yet again? Oh, what? We do? Alright, then…See Chapter 8. snickersnortcough Huh-huh.
Chapter 9: Man in the Mirror
It was mere moments later when Hermione and Ron found themselves standing before the portrait of the Fat Lady. Even though it was nearly eleven in the morning, she sat dozing in her chair, her chin resting solidly atop her chest. Hermione glanced nervously at Ron, who shrugged back. Hermione prepared herself and stepped forward.
"Excuse me? Ma'am?" she ventured, not wanting to rudely startle the woman from her slumber anymore than she already had been that morning. Hermione reached up and lightly tapped the shoulder of the portrait, but ended up rapping against nothing more than canvas. She sighed, and raised her voice a little louder.
"Um, Ma'am? Hello? We've got a question to ask you. Ma'am?" Hermione's shoulders slumped, but she gave yet another go at it. "Excuse me! It's really important!"
Ron sighed in exasperation. We could be here all day… He took two steps in front of Hermione.
"Hullo, Fat Lady?! Wake up! It's almost noon, for Merlin's sake!"
Hermione gasped and stepped beside Ron, her face set in a scowl as if to say 'well, that was certainly rude,' but the canvas' large subject stirred awake with a snort before he could be reproached. The pink-clad portrait's head snapped up, confused until she spotted Ron and Hermione.
"You two again? Can't let anyone get any sodding sleep around here, can you…" she mumbled this last part under her breath, though none too quietly. Ron rolled his eyes. "Look, we've got a question to ask you."
Hermione nodded, and attempted to come off more amiably than her friend. "Do you remember what time Harry came in last night?" The Fat Lady snorted once more. "Which time?"
Ron glanced alarmingly at his friend. "What do you mean?"
The portrait shrugged. "Well, I remember the lad came in with you two around eight, and then I guess I must have fallen asleep because he came in alone a few hours later. I don't quite recall him leaving the first time though, but then again, who can keep track of all of you? I've been doing this for quite some time now, as you can imagine, and I confess that after the first fifty years, you all start looking the same. But him you'd think I'd remember, what with his scar and all…" As she spoke, her eyelids began to slowly close, and before she could finish she had dozed off again.
Ron and Hermione had certainly heard enough, though, and decided not to disturb the Fat Lady anymore. "Well," Hermione said quietly, "now we at least know how it got in." Ron nodded in agreement. "Right," he responded, then glanced at the giant wizard's clock which hung along the Gryffindor's hallway. "Look, we've got a little over half an hour left until class. What do you say we visit Harry for awhile?"
She shook her head. "He won't be awake yet. Madame Pomfrey said he'd be out until at least this afternoon." He nodded sadly, as she continued. "I'm going to stop by the Library to see if I can't find anything else." Ron opened his mouth in protest.
"Hermione--"
"I know there's something there, Ron, and I owe it to Harry to at least have another look," she insisted, noting the exasperated look on her friend's face. "You're welcome to come, if you'd like." He opened his mouth to say something else, but instead shrugged. "Oh, alright then, why the hell not," he smiled, "I'm sure not going to waste my time by studying, so I might as well do something useful." She rolled her eyes as she followed him down the staircase, stifling a small smile in spite of herself.
* * * * * *
Harry drifted along rather peacefully in a Chocolate-induced dream state. He had been fed so much when he entered the Infirmary he was curious as to when he'd actually wake up.
He had tried hard to forget why he was in his all-too-familiar bed once more, but the dull, throbbing pain in his forehead was rather difficult to ignore, even as he slept. The lingering memory of what had happened only a few hours before floated along with Harry in the depths of his unconscious, try as he might to force it back. It had remained latent since he'd closed his eyes--until now.
While on the outside Harry's eyes beat rhythmically against their lids as he entered the beginning stages of R.E.M, inside a terrifying scenario painted itselves against the canvas of his mind.
Harry could feel himself getting out of bed, only he was back in his four-poster within the Gryffindor Common Room. As he had done two nights before, he walked to the bathroom, and once inside the lit room, gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He stared at his pajama-clad self, wondering what, exactly, he was to be looking for. No sooner had the thought left his mind when he spotted a figure in his periphery.
Harry jerked his head to the right in response, but the figure was nowhere to be seen. He felt his breath quicken, his heart thudding madly in panic. Harry stood unmoving for some time, then released a shuddering breath as he turned back towards the mirror. Only then did he scream.
Behind him was reflected another Harry, this one certainly a demon in its own right. The doppleganger approached Harry from behind, but when Harry spun around, it was no longer there. Harry looked once more in the mirror to see where it had gone, and was met with two arms protruding from the glass which then encircled themselves tightly around his neck.
Harry's reflection had come to life, and was now attempting to strangle him.
Harry screamed in terror as his doppleganger attacked him once more, vaguely aware that he was still dreaming. The reflection released one of its hands and slapped Harry hard across the cheek, and Harry found it odd that it was yelling his name.
"Harry…"
He clenched his eyes closed as the lighting in the bathroom grew blindingly brighter, and the voice increasingly louder.
"Harry..."
He struggled to take a breath, and as he did felt another hard slap against his cheek.
"Harry!"
At this last insistence Harry's eyes flew open, blindly searching for his doppleganger. He gasped loudly upon waking, a light stinging sensation present on his left cheek. Blinking his eyes clear he saw Madame Pomfrey hovering only inches from his face, calling his name frantically.
"Harry! Wake up, dear, you're having a nightmare!"
Harry closed his eyes against the light and groaned slightly, mumbling to the nurse. "Alright, alright, just stop hitting me…"
"Hitting you? What are you talking about, I haven't laid a finger on you--" Madame Pomfrey stopped her sentence short and looked up as McGonagall fled into the room.
"Poppy? Is everything alright? I heard you yelling from outside in the corridor."
Harry heard 'Poppy' sigh as his professor came into view, albeit a little blurry. "It's nothing, Minerva. The boy was just having himself a nightmare, nothing I can't handle. Could've done without the screaming, though, as bloody loud as it was…" McGonagall threw her a fleeting look of admonition at her choice of phrasing, but all was lost on the nurse as she bustled off to fetch another block of chocolate. The professor then turned to speak softly to her student.
"Are you sure you're alright, my dear? You look a bit pale."
I haven't laid a finger on you…
Harry blinked himself out of his wandering thoughts when his professor addressed him. He nodded gently, forcing a small smile. "My head hurts just a bit from earlier, but other than that I'm fine, really." Minerva's concern for the safety of her student had taken a renewed turn that morning after the horrific sight she had been witness to, and wasn't about to let slide such a casual response.
"That much is not as obvious as you'd like to think it is, Mr. Potter. You're not simply 'fine,' and there's no use in pretending that you are." She softened her tone when she noticed the puzzled look which had etched itself into Harry's face. McGonagall sighed, clasping him gently on the shoulder. "Harry, even if you don't remember what happened to you this morning, then perhaps your nightmare could help clue us in--"
Harry stumbled over his words as he quickly came up with a lie. "I-I don't remember what happened in that, either."
McGonagall smiled gently. "That's not important, Harry, because there's a way of finding out what your nightmare was about regardless of your memory of it. There's a simple spell which can reveal to us what your last dream was, much like how the Priori Incantatem spell is used on our wands."
Harry stumbled on his speech once more. "Oh, yes, well, I'd rather not, actually. What if it was something stupid, like me forgetting my Potions homework again? Besides, if it was important, wouldn't I have remembered it?" McGonagall shook her head. "Not necessarily. Why don't you rest here for a moment while I go and summon the Headmaster? Once he's here, the spell won't take but a few seconds to incur--"
"Really, it was nothing. I'd rather just go back to sleep if it's okay. Maybe I'll see something this time…Professor?"
McGonagall had already left the Infirmary, Harry's words deaf on her ears. "Bloody fantastic," he muttered to himself. This I didn't need…While he was relieved that they might know what had triggered the appearance of his doppleganger, he was nervous with anxiety what consequences their revelation might entail. Would he be monitored day and night, in fear that this had been Voldemort's plan, for his safety? Or would he simply be confined to Dumbledore's chambers, where the Headmaster could always keep an eye on him? Harry still had his theories, but knew that they would never even be considered once the pain he had experienced in his scar had been taken into account, a pain only one person could inflict.
Harry closed his eyes briefly as he relaxed back onto his pillow, wishing Sirius had taught him how to apparate properly. It might be impossible and illegal, but it was still something to consider. Harry released a heavy sigh, his hand unconsciously cupping his left cheek, still slightly reddened from having been slapped by someone…
* * * * * *
"Oy! Ron! Wait up!" Ron turned from the Library's entrance at the sound of his name. Fred was waving for him to stop at the end of the staircase, with George jogging up behind him. He and Hermione smiled upon seeing them, nodding in greeting.
"Hullo, Fred, George," Hermione said to the twins. She then looked to Ron, excusing herself. "I'll meet you inside?" Ron nodded as she turned into the Library. "Right, be there in a minute." He grinned widely at his brothers. "What's up with you two? You missed breakfast."
George began warily. "That's what we needed to see you about actually." He glanced around for any wandering souls, and convinced that there were none, spoke quietly to Ron. "You see, we've got a buyer." Fred nodded excitedly before Ron could respond. "Yep. Found ourselves a gent who's interested in purchasing five thousand of the Exploding Tongue-Pops. Didn't say why, only that he'd pay us five galleons for them. Each."
Ron beamed at them. "Gods, that's great! When do you meet with him?"
"Well, that's the thing," George responded. "He'll only meet us in Hogsmeade--this afternoon. And we've got to start finding ourselves another way of getting there, because I think Filch is onto us--" "Or that damned cat of his," interrupted Fred, "who's probably got more brains in its little kitty head than that greasy wanker could ever dream of--" "And that's where you come in," George finished, "because we need to borrow the Marauder's Map from you and Harry."
Ron nodded eagerly. "Sure, no problem. Wait here a tic and I'll run up and get it for you." Ron bounded up the nearest staircase, his overly excited brothers high-fiving one another near the Library's entrance. Hermione would just have to do without him for the time being.
* * * * * *
Scritch.
Scritch Scratch Scritch.
Scritch Scratch Scritch Scratch…scritchscratchscritchscratchscritchscratch…
Scrrrrrrrrape.
He was almost there, he could feel it. Just a little more…a little further…
Screeeeeech.
Draco raked his fingernails across the stone floor in frustration, after his digging efforts had proved futile. He had always heard stories of Muggles nearly digging their way to China, and thought it not such a bad idea. Even though the floor was stone, he thought maybe it could be penetrable.
Not only was he wrong, but what little fingernails he had left were thickly caked underneath with centuries of Hogwarts' dirt and grime. Although he couldn't see it, he could certainly feel its grittiness. Since the floor was the only surface he had found in the last few days, Draco figured there could be no harm in trying to claw his way out, because he was now honestly considering the possibility that he had been left for dead.
He wasn't sure why, or what asinine lesson he was supposed to learn from all of this, but he was certain of who had placed him in here.
Potter.
Harry-fucking-Potter.
Even if he had to gnaw his way out or scream until his throat was raw and bloody, Draco swore to himself that he wasn't going to die like some starved, forgotten rat. He would gratefully reserve that particular experience for Harry, who wouldn't see the light of another day once Draco was free.
Draco closed his eyes and grinned broadly in the tar black darkness, a hideously maniacal laughter rising from his throat to reverberate loudly against the stone floor of his prison. The roaring echoes of his laughter didn't stop ringing deafeningly in his ears even after he began to scream with a renewed fury he hadn't known he was capable of.
* * * * * *
As she rounded the last bookcase on the left, Hermione was surprised to see a voluminous book currently occupying her favorite table within the Library. Idly wondering who else had been sitting there, she set her books down, using both hands to shove the book aside. She paused, however, upon glancing at its gold-embossed title: "Aggie Odean's Tome of Omens (Volumes I - V)." Curiosity got the best of her as she hefted the book open to the index at the back.
Running her finger down the page, she scanned the alphabetized index until she came across what she was looking for: 'Doppleganger (Page 3586).' Hermione held her breath as she flipped back several thousand pages, finally landing on the page marked 'Dodo - Double-Ended Skrewt.' Briefly skimming the short article on 'Doppleganger,' Hermione found nothing more than what she and Ron had already read about in countless other books. She sighed in disappointment, and had moved to close the volume when she spotted a two-word blurb at the end of the entry: 'See "Fetch".'
Hermione gasped in excitement. Finally, a lead… As the book only went up to the letter 'E,' she scanned the shelves nearest her until she came across a gaping hole in the otherwise tightly-squeezed stack of books. She grabbed for the next volume on the shelf, but was surprised to find that the number skipped directly to "XI - XIV"--that containing 'F' through 'J' was missing. She groaned in defeat, and instead set about pulling other "omen" books off the shelves nearest the holes. Stupid, stupid book…
Hermione then began to flip through the pile of books she had amassed in search of another source, desperately wishing Ron would hurry back and help her.
* * * * * *
Ron appeared at the foot of the stairs a few minutes later, handing the rolled up map to his brothers only when he was certain no one else was in sight. "Alright, here it is. You know how to use it, right?"
George nodded impatiently. "Of course we do! We're the ones who gave it to you, remember?" "Yeah, Ron, thanks. We'll grab you something in Hogsmeade. Any suggestions?" Fred asked. Thousands of ideas filled Ron's head, but before he could voice any of them, he spotted Hermione exiting the Library.
"Ron! There you are! I've been waiting for you. We're going to be late for Herbology if we don't move it. And you'll never guess what I've found out--" Before she could continue in an excited rush, Fred spoke up. "We'll catch you later, alright, Ron? And wish us luck." He winked at Ron behind Hermione's back, kissing the map briefly before concealing it within his robes.
Hermione turned and waved good-bye to them, before warily eyeing Ron. "Good Luck? Where are they off to?" Ron gaped as would a deer caught in headlights trying to think of an excuse, but Hermione waved it off. "Nevermind, I don't think I want to know." Books in hand, she began walking down the corridor with Ron at her side. "Like I said, you're never going to believe what I've found, but it'll have to wait until class is over."
"Something useful?"
Hermione nodded excitedly. "Oh, yeah. And I've only just scratched the surface of it, too. I'm running back after Charms to find some more stuff on it. Are you going to go see Harry later? He should be awake come lunch."
"If Pomfrey will let me in, I will. I'll tell him whatever it is you're going to tell me after class, if you want."
Hermione smiled broadly. "Of course. And what's today, Friday? We've got Herbology with the Slytherins again, haven't we?"
Ron groaned. "Yep, sure do. Though, I wonder if Draco's sorry arse will be absent again. He hasn't shown up for the last three days, and he wasn't in the Infirmary. That's more than fine by me, though. And it's like I said, dumb bastard probably flushed himself down the loo. He'll show up sodding wet and stinking like the piece of shite that he is in a couple of days, you'll see."
Hermione let loose an unexpected laugh as they finally approached the Greenhouse. Once inside, a quick glance was all she needed to see that once again, Draco was a no show.
* * * * * *
"We solemnly swear that we are up to no good."
Fred and George watched as the Marauder's Map came to life, every intricate detail of Hogwarts etching itself out on the worn parchment in front of them. "Alright, now, there we are." George took hold of the map and began to trace their route down an unforeseen passage to Hogsmeade, detailed on the map by the two dots with their names hovering nearby.
Had they strayed their eyes from their current location on the map, they would have noticed that Harry's name was written not once, but twice.
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Ah, the end…of another chapter, that is. On a side note, I happened to see the Stephen King/JK Rowling Celebrity Death Match fight on MTV early Monday morning (it's styrofoam-animation at its bloody best for those of you who haven't seen the show). King won--or, rather, his animated leg did after it was reawakened by Voldemort's lightning bolt curse…don't ask. Anyhoo, sorry for the delay, turns out I didn't write at all over break. That would have gotten in the way of sleep time :] Hope the length of this one will more than make up for it. And, once again, it's time for--"The Bold and the Beautiful!"
Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! AAAANNNNNDDDDD AmerKat! Yay!!!!