Chapter Eleven - Rocks Call on God, but row away from the rocks. - Indian Proverb
"I have spoken with Miss Weasley. She would like to talk to you once you leave here."
"Did she tell you why she said what she said?"
"No, Harry. I believe that is something she wishes to tell you first."
"When will Hermione wake up?" He looked down at the girl lying in a hospital bed, her curls limp and spread out on her pillow like a halo. She was ghostly pale and her breathing was shallow. Madam Pomfrey kept popping in to check on Hermione, but she would only shake her head and mutter that there was nothing could be done.
"I'll see what I can do, but it could be awhile."
Harry looked up at Dumbledore, his expression blank. "What did he do to her?"
"When prisoners are taken to Azkaban, they are charmed into a deep sleep so that they cannot later tell how to get to the prison. Even visitors are charmed. Malfoy cast that same charm on Hermione."
"Were they going to take her to Azkaban?" Harry asked quietly as he ran his thumb over the back of Hermione's cold hand.
"No, but Lucius Malfoy is not fond of her."
"What did she ever do to him?"
"I don't believe that is something I can answer for you, Harry."
Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching Hermione's chest rise and fall slowly.
"But she'll be okay, right?"
"Yes, she will. Once the charm wears off. I suggest that you return to your dorm, Harry. You need your rest and I know that Miss Weasley is waiting for you."
"When will her trial be?"
"Connelly has scheduled it for the day after Christmas."
Wordlessly, Harry nodded and stood. Dumbledore nodded to him and as Harry left, he was surprised to see Dumbledore sit next to Hermione's bed. He thought he heard Dumbledore say something, but at that moment, Madam Pomfrey returned and gave him a gentle push out the door.
"I'll call for you if she wakes before we expect her to."
The door closed behind him and he began the long walk back to IMS.
Seven students sat facing each other sombrely as the eighth stared into a book. Harry slammed the door shut behind him and seven heads turned to look at him, each face now blank. Ginny stood, staring at the floor. He looked at no one as he marched into his dorm and slammed that door as well.
He looked about the lounge room, the frustration coursing through him. He raised his hand towards a glass setting on the counter and stared at it. When the pieces scattered across the kitchen, he felt the boiling anger ebb slightly. He aimed for another glass, ignoring the sound of the opening door as he blew that to pieces as well. He felt a hand on his arm and he whipped around to see who had come in.
Ginny was standing a few feet behind him, her face pale.
"How is it your fault?" His tone was icier than he expected.
"I think you should sit down."
"How is it your fault?" he repeated, refusing to sit.
"Harry, please," her tone was soft and wavering as tears began to slowly slide down her face. "I didn't mean to; I didn't know. I--I thought he wouldn't tell anything."
"Who?"
"Draco," she whispered finally after taking a long moment to just look at him.
"Why would you tell Draco anything?"
"I didn't! I mean, he's around all the time. He heard what she said in class! He saw her at the match using magic!"
"When was she using magic?" he shouted.
"For one of the banners! I didn't even think there was anything wrong with it and I didn't mean to say any of the things I did to him. We used to talk about our studies and I wished I had her abilities and...I don't know, I just don't know what happened."
"Why were you even talking with him?"
"Because..." her voice shook as everything in his mind clicked.
"It was him behind the changing rooms, wasn't it?"
"Were you spying on me?"
"Answer the question, Ginny!"
"Yes, it was him."
"You mean, you're actually...with him?" Harry spat out the last part of his question.
She nodded slowly.
"For how long?"
"Only about a month."
Neither of them had heard the door close, but they did hear the noise Ron made as he stared at his sister in anger.
"How could you?" his voice was almost a growl.
"Ron," Harry said, moving between Ginny and Ron.
"How could you do that to her?! She was your friend!"
Ginny was sobbing now. "I know that! I know that! Don't you think I feel awful?"
"Sod how you feel! Do you know what you've done?!"
Harry looked between the two Weasleys, who were both bright red. Ron looked as if he was positively fuming and Ginny was weeping into her hands. He was unsure of what to say, but the silence that had taken over the room was broken as Ron stormed out. Harry and Ginny looked at each other momentarily before following Ron out into the common room.
He was standing a few feet in front of Draco, who had not yet looked up from his book. "Malfoy." No reply. "Malfoy!"
"You're blocking my reading light, Weasley."
Harry's jaw nearly dropped to the floor as he watched his friend haul Malfoy to his feet by the collar of his robes. Ron had grown considerably in the past few months and in his anger, he appeared to tower over Draco, who did not struggle against the other boy's hold.
"Why?!" Ron shouted in Malfoy's face.
At this Draco smirked. "Why not?"
Ron pulled his arm back, but Harry was quicker. He grabbed Ron's arm and looked at his friend.
"He's not worth it, Ron."
"Because of him, Hermione could go to jail. Because of this little rat she could spend the rest of her life there."
"She's not going to jail. Let him go."
Ron dropped the front of Draco's robes and he stumbled back, glaring icily at Ron and Harry.
"That little mudblood will get what she deserves."
He walked quickly from the room and the other students followed his path to the dorm. There was a creak as the door to IMS opened and Professor McGonagall walked in with Hermione. She looked sternly at the collected group.
"I will be moving the children housed here to a different area of this castle. Arabella and I agree that this is not a place for them to be with student behaviour being as it is."
Harry paid no mind to her words as he looked at Hermione. Her face was washed out and she was supporting herself by leaning against the doorframe. Her eyes were partially closed and he wondered why they had let her out of the hospital wing. Under McGonagall's stern glare, the group went quickly to their dorms. Harry remained, keeping a careful eye on Hermione.
"Professor Dumbledore was able to awaken Hermione. Against Madam Pomfrey's insistance, she has decided to return here. I trust that you will look after her the remainder of the night?"
Harry nodded.
"She'll be fine. She needs to rest though. That spell does terrible things to the body." Her tone was softer as she looked at Hermione. "Arabella will be in tomorrow afternoon to speak with you all. She's flown to London with Professor Snape to see if they can get more information on this arrest. Dumbledore would also like you to meet with him tomorrow morning and Hermione, if she's well."
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall."
"Goodnight, Potter." She turned towards the door before looking back at him. "She can't speak yet."
Harry looked at Hermione, who was wiping away tears from her face. She looked somewhat dazed and completely exhausted. He walked towards her as Professor McGonagall left and as soon as he was close enough, she collapsed against him, her body shaking. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tight around her waist as she rested her head against him. After a few minutes of just standing there he pulled back to look at her. She was still crying, although silently now. His heart broke as he looked into her eyes; he'd never seen so much sadness. Her lips opened and he placed a finger to them, shaking his head. They turned their heads towards the dorm they shared as a door opened. Padma and Ginny emerged, carrying duvets and pillows.
"We thought Hermione might like to have the room to herself. Draco has locked himself in your dorm, Harry, and Ron is stewing on the sofa," said Padma, noting Harry and Hermione's curious looks.
She looked at Hermione for a moment longer before she turned to Harry. "Is she going to be all right?"
Harry nodded. "Dumbledore and McGonagall both think she'll be fine."
Ginny and Padma had dropped their bedding on the sofas in the common room and they walked over to where Harry and Hermione stood. Hermione leaned against Harry still, her weight mostly on him. Ginny looked solemnly at Hermione.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. Hermione's eyes closed as she reached out a hand to her friend. Ginny took the offered palm and Harry watched them for a moment. Hermione just shook her head and Ginny began to cry again. Padma hugged Hermione gently and turned to Harry before hugging him too.
"You know, as this has all happened, it seems so much like a plot to screw as much up as possible. Thing settle down some, only to worsen a great deal."
Harry just looked at his newfound friend as she pulled back. "I wish that I was able to understand it all," he replied quietly, nearly forgetting that Hermione and Ginny were standing with them.
"Whenever anything was wrong in our family, something which felt out of our control, my mother used to say to us 'call on God, but row away from the rocks.' Remember Harry, that no matter how much you wish for something, if you do not try and help yourself, you are only bringing yourself closer to trouble."
With a slight bow of her head, Harry knew that Padma would not speak further on what had happened, but her words made sense to him. He turned and led Hermione back to her dorm.
She seemed very out of it as she took her pyjamas to the en suite to change. When she re-entered the room, she barely acknowledged him as she climbed into her bed.
"Hermione?"
"Hm?"
"Will you be alright?"
She turned her head on the pillow and looked at him, pleadingly. "Please don't go Harry."
He could see her eyes beginning to rim with tears and he quickly climbed into her bed. Instantly, she was moving towards him and he felt her warmth as their arms circled around each other. Her head was resting against him, face buried in his chest and he felt her hot tears beginning to seep through his cotton t-shirt. He held for a few minutes as she cried silently.
In the past few months, he had seen her cry more than he had in the years he'd known her. She usually wasn't one to cry, but the events happening in their world now affected her more closely than the others ever had. He thought of her parents. He wasn't sure if her grandparents were muggles or wizards, but he was fairly certain they weren't. The injustice of it all began to flood his mind as he turned over the past few months in his head. He was seething, both because of the injustice of it all and because he knew that he couldn't stop Hermione's tears. In that moment, he felt helpless, feeling her body tremble against him and waiting for her to make some sort of sound. As he looked down at her, he saw the years of things that happened between them. How she'd been trapped in a bathroom with a troll because he and Ron were so terrible to her, her petrifaction, the events in the Shrieking Shack… all those times when she'd saved him and Ron. The guilt washed over him in waves as he realised how difficult he'd made their lives, how it was probably his fault that she had been arrested. If it weren't for him, she would never have been in the public eye so much.
He felt her trembling subside and her breathing grew heavy as she finally fell asleep. He looked at her longer, and saw that even in her sleep, she appeared to have no solace. Her face was twitching and she seemed troubled. He watched her, tears running silently down his face until sleep eventually overtook him.
It was a rare occasion that Harry felt comfortable in Dumbledore's office. This was no such occasion. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair several times as Dumbledore peered over his spectacles at them.
"I've been in contact with the Ministry and there is no chance of moving up the trial date." He finally spoke and his words deadpanned in the room. Harry had woken that morning, hoping that the previous day had been a nightmare.
"What's going to happen at the trial?" Hermione asked, her voice dry and shaking. Dumbledore paused, unsure of how to reply. He sighed faintly before answering. "The trials at the Ministry are held downstairs, in a dungeon-like room. You will most likely be strapped to a chair, where a judge will ask you several questions. Witnesses will be called and afterwards, a jury will make a decision."
"Who's going to be called?"
"Well, we're allowed to call so many people to defend you. Most likely, the primary witness for the Ministry will be Draco Malfoy."
Hermione's mouth dropped. "Draco?" she replied, after a long pause.
"Yes. It was Mr. Malfoy who issued a formal complaint."
Hermione looked completely shocked. "Draco? Draco?"
Harry reached over and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She looked at him.
"But he saved us…" she trailed off looking mortified.
"Ms Granger," Professor Dumbledore's voice was solid and serious.
She looked at him, her chin quivering slightly. "Yes?"
"Regardless of Mr. Malfoy's past actions, he did make the complaint."
"Why?"
"I'm not sure. There are several possibilities."
"Such as?"
"I think, Ms Granger, that we will have to wait and see."
"What are we going to do?" Harry asked.
"We're going to prepare a defence and go to trial."
Harry peered at Hermione once Dumbledore said this, expecting that she would be crying once more, but she had a determined look in her eyes. He concentrated on her eyes and he could practically see her mind working.
"We'll win," she said suddenly, breaking the tense silence in the room. Dumbledore looked at her, his face giving away nothing.
"Ms Granger," he said, more as a statement than as a question.
"I believe in justice Professor Dumbledore. I believe that the truth will be found out; that I am not a muggleborn."
"Hermione, we cannot bring forth your parents. It puts too many people in danger. There are others in hiding just like they are."
"But--"
"We will prepare a defence based on that the fact that you have stayed within the legal limits of practising magic as a muggleborn."
When she had made her proclamation that they would win, that justice would be done, Harry had seen a fierce light in her eyes. It was not foreign to him, he'd seen it before when she had decided that the house-elves should be given rights. He had seen it before when they had been presented with particularly difficult assignments. When she had helped him with the second task, the light had been there. And now, it was gone. Her face resumed its previous look of fear and doubt and his heart sunk into his stomach as he saw the hopeless look in her eyes. He felt empty--guilty--as he watched her look at Dumbledore, hoping there was something he could do.
Suddenly, as he looked at his headmaster, Harry felt a rage boil up inside him. He'd never known Dumbledore to not have the answer. In past years, it was always Dumbledore who had the most influence, who was able to prevent things like this. He turned to face the old professor, a look of fury on his face.
"Harry?" Dumbledore asked finally, more than likely noticing the look.
"Isn't there something you can do? Some way to stop this, the arrest, the trial, even Connelly's power? How can this really be happening? How can you let it?"
"Do you recall, Harry, at the end of your fourth year, that I said we are only as strong as we are united?"
Harry nodded, his anger ebbing slightly.
"Connelly has succeeded in dividing the wizarding world. I have compared this situation to that of Nazi Germany, as it is very similar, but there are a great many differences. This is by no means a new stereotype. For centuries, there has been a feeling within the wizarding community that muggles should not know about this. There is constant questioning over why we are the ones that must remain hidden when it is we that yield the most power. Many may not understand the reasoning for keeping our world hidden from muggle eyes, but they cannot deny its necessity."
"But why now? Why so extreme?" He was beginning to feel weary as Dumbledore gazed levelly at him.
"There is a time when change becomes necessary Harry. We have waited for years for change. You may not believe this is the best way to let it happen. I most certainly do not. I do, however, feel that it will not last long. I cannot tell you the outcome of these events. I cannot change the course of history. What will happen, will happen. We have set forth on a path of change and it will not be easy. I have prepared the people on our side the best I can and there are many in our world that support our work. Those that side with Connelly are few and far between, but they are powerful."
Hermione looked at Dumbledore. "If there are so many people willing to aid us, why can't we stop this?"
"When laws are created purposely to stabilise the many, it becomes much more difficult to affect the changes in our society."
Harry felt his heart sink again. Dumbledore had always had the answers; he'd always seemed to be the one in control. Sitting in his office, hearing his words, Harry suddenly felt lost, as if he'd been walking in the woods, knowing the sure way home, but had suddenly lost his compass. He turned his gaze downward, away from the Headmaster, and stared at the palms of his hands. He traced the intricate lines there, wondering what would happen next and feeling completely powerless to stop it.
"Arabella is meeting with your classmates this afternoon but, Hermione, your parents would like to meet with you." Dumbledore's words fell like bricks in the silent room. Harry and Hermione both stood, nodding at Dumbledore as he showed them from his office.
Harry forgot the way to Hermione's parents' quarters, but she seemed to know it by heart. They walked briskly, holding hands as Hermione trembled slightly. Before long, they were seated on a long sofa, across from Hermione's parents.
He had never seen Rachel looked so pale. Her eyes were dull, with none of the usual, intelligent sparkle that resided there. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked almost frail, wrapped in a too-large cardigan sweater. Harry saw blue veins under the milky skin at her temples, overshadowed slightly by graying hairs. She looked as if she'd aged years in the few weeks since he'd seen her last.
They were silent for a few minutes before Rick cleared his throat. "Dumbledore says that every member of the Order is going to help you. There are going to be many people willing to testify for you, willing to tell the court what a good person you are."
Rachel gave a short sob. "Hermione..." Tears were now running down her face slowly.
He looked at Hermione, who appeared as if she was trying not to cry. He watched her lip quiver for a few moments before her face crumpled and she rushed to her mother. They threw their arms around each other, crying and talking and crying more.
Hermione pulled back and looked at Rachel, who wiped the back of her hand under her eyes. "I feel like it's all my fault, love. If we'd been braver, if we'd raised you as we should have..."
Hermione shook her head. "It's not, don't think that. Please, Mum. Don't."
Harry shifted his glance towards Rick, who seemed growingly uncomfortable with the situation. He looked at his wife and daughter a few moments longer before moving closer and wrapping his arms around both of them.
"We want to help you Hermione, in any way we can," he said finally, pulling back to look at his daughter.
"I can't let you. It's too dangerous."
"I don't care. I can't--we can't--let anything happen to you. It's our fault that things are this way," he replied.
"Dad. Mum. No. I can't let you do anything. I have to do this on my own."
Rachel sighed shakily,; her hands were trembling as she moved them to cup Hermione's face between them. "You are far braver than I ever could be." She trailed her thumbs under Hermione's eyes, wiping away the fresh tears.
The halls of Hogwarts were eerily silent as they walked to IMS. There were classes in session and occasionally a voice would drift out, but the classes themselves were not the cause of the silence. It was not abnormal to walk through the halls, hearing the sounds from the paintings or the movement of ghosts, but those regular, everyday sounds were gone. Harry felt as if were summer again in the all but empty castle.
The silence pervaded the castle, even to the IMS classroom, where their eight classmates were sitting silently. Arabella was sitting at the desk, looking at paperwork. Harry and Hermione took their seats as she looked up.
"Excellent, you're here. We can begin." She turned towards the chalkboard and wrote the word magic on the board. "Mr Malfoy, can you tell me what this word means to you?"
Draco looked bored at being in the classroom and seemed to ignore Arabella's question.
"Mr Malfoy, regardless of whether or not you deem this an important question, you are a member of this program and you will answer it."
He cocked an eyebrow at her, still not speaking.
"Mr. Malfoy..." Arabella's tone was icy and daring. Harry could tell she was seething. "Hermione," she barked, "what does this mean to you?"
Harry saw her shift uncomfortably in her seat. "It's power...the ability to stretch physical limits." Hermione sounded unsure of herself as she said this and Harry was beginning to grow more and more uncomfortable.
"No."
"No?" Hermione answered.
"Magic is not power. It is responsibility. In our world, we see Dark Arts as an irresponsible use of power. We see the necessity to hide our powers from muggles because to do so would be to open up a world of trouble. Magic is a simple fix for many problems and with that comes the responsibility to see the danger in it."
"Then why do we let muggles into our world?" Draco spoke up, staring at Arabella.
"To allow muggleborn children to run around without any control over their magical ability is ludicrous."
"You say it is a responsibility. It is also a gift. A gift that should be given only to those who deserve it."
Arabella slammed her hand down on the table. "Mr. Malfoy, this classroom is not a place to voice your personal opinion."
"I can say whatever I want."
Harry was shocked. He had never heard Draco speak like this to a teacher. He was normally reserved in class, listening and taking notes as Arabella spoke.
"Bollocks. If you think that this is just an open forum where you can spout your stereotypical load of crap, you can leave."
Draco looked at her coolly before standing up and making his way out of the classroom. Harry turned his head from the door to Arabella, who was calmly moving back to her desk. He looked again at the door before moving his seat back with a loud screech and storming from the classroom.
Draco was halfway across the IMS common room, heading for the entrance hall.
"Malfoy!" Harry shouted, surprised at his own voice. Withdrawing his wand from his pocket at the other boy stopped, he waited for Draco to turn around.
"What?" Draco's voice was dripping venom, his cold, gray eyes narrowed menacingly.
"What's the matter with you?"
"What on earth are you babbling on about, Potter? Why did you follow me? To have a nice little heart to heart talk about our feelings? Stuff that. I don't have to answer to you."
"You are. What was that about in there?"
"That was about this teachers and this school and how everyone here thinks they're right all the time."
"How could you turn her in? She trusted you."
"Then she's not as smart as you all think." Draco turned then, his robes flaring out behind him as he walked briskly away.
Harry bristled and followed after Draco, his wand still at the ready. He called Malfoy's name again, but the boy did not turn around. Harry did not know where he was heading, but for some reason, he refused to let Draco out of his site until he found out why he had reported Hermione.
As they reached the staircases heading to the second floor, Draco stopped abruptly and turned to face Harry.
"Full of courage and pride, but not a brain cell to share between the entire house."
"Shut it, Malfoy. I'm not leaving here until you give me an answer."
"An answer to what?"
"Why did you do it?"
"Why? Why? Fine, I'll tell you why." His stare was dark as he paused. "Your girlfriend is a filthy little mudblood. She doesn't deserve the attention she gets. Her magic is tainted; tainted by muggle blood. She is not worthy of any of this. And neither are you."
The words stood before Harry, almost as a dare. Willing him to defend Hermione and himself. He thought of his mother, of the possible situations she had faced at the height of Voldemort's power. He thought of all the other people, just like Draco, who thought that magic from muggleborns was tainted and that people not of pureblood were undeserving. Fury raged through him as he looked at the cold smirk on Draco's face. Without thinking, he raised his wand, no hex in mind.
The power ripped through Harry's wand and he nearly dropped his wand as a burst of black light shot from the end of it. The light hit Draco in the chest, sending him backwards against the hard, stone steps. He heard a sickening crack and dropped his wand, staring straight ahead.
A million thanks to Ian and Neil for beta-reading. Also, my eternal gratefulness must go to those of you who have reviewed. Your reviews keep me writing and without them I never would have made it this far.
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