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Chapter Seven: Discovery
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Thoughts filled Hermione's head again. The foggy emptiness vanished. "Sorry, what was I saying?" Then she spotted Harry's fury and Ron's outrage. "What did I say?"
"You said," said Harry in a quivering voice, "that Voldemort had the right idea!"
"I said WHAT?" she cried. "B-but Harry, you know I'd never-"
"But you did," Ron interrupted. "Just a moment ago, you said is was clever and good-looking." A sulk had entered his voice, and he fell silent.
"Like Ron said, you're not yourself, Hermione," Harry said, tilting his head concernedly. His voice was considerably softened. So was Ron's expression.
"Are you feeling all right?" he asked.
"Yes - well, no actually," said Hermione. Her voice dropped to an urgent whisper. "I feel like someone's cleared my head, then I black out and when I come back to my senses, it's all a blur."
Ron gasped. "How often has this happened?" Harry inquired in a businesslike tone of voice.
"Twice," replied Hermione, equally professional. "Just now, and after Defence Against the Dark Arts with the sixth-years. I was out in the hall with - with Malfoy . . ." Realisation edged into her voice and she trailed off. Harry was taken aback by the audacity of his rival's deed.
"That means," began Ron slowly, "Malfoy must have cursed her." He paused. "But - she shouldn't come to her senses at all if that was the case . . ."
"No, Ron," said Harry, "she shouldn't. It looks like Malfoy put the Imperius Curse on you, Hermione, but it was weak. There are big gaps in his control. We have to tell Professor Dumbledore. Malfoy must be stopped."
Harry knew full well that using an Unforgivable Curse like the Imperius Curse merited a life sentence in Azkaban, but he was also aware of two other things: one, that Azkaban was not an effective prison without Dementors and was easily escaped; two, that Harry himself should be there for torturing Bellatrix Lestrange last June. The latter had weighed on his conscience for three months. How she had fallen to the floor for a moment, then laughed at Harry's attempt. Teased him about Sirius. Hot rage surged through Harry; once again he watched Bellatrix laugh as his godfather died.
"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Ron. His voice punctured Harry's memory of that awful day in the Ministry. Harry opened his eyes to see that Ron's face was full of concern.
"Nothing," Harry replied. "Nothing to worry about."
Hermione and Ron exchanged meaningful glances that plainly said, 'Sirius', but it was clear they didn't know how his thoughts got from Hermione to Sirius. Then again, they hadn't been in the Atrium when Dumbledore duelled with Voldemort. A brain had been attacking Ron, and Hermione was unconscious at the time.
"Back to Hermione," said Harry, shaking the last of the flashbacks from his system. "What can we do?"
"Not a lot," answered Ron. "The curse is so weak, it would be hard to prove that she's cursed at all. One time, my dad told me that victims of a proper one - a really strong Imperius Curse - would come out of a kind of trance when it lifted."
"But who knows what I could've done by then?" cried Hermione hysterically. The boys frantically hushed her.
"Ron's right," agreed Harry, "We can't do a lot. But you can."
Hermione stammered for a moment, pointed at herself. "What can I do?"
"Try to throw the curse," said Harry earnestly. Fear and anxiety were in his eyes. "You remember when Moody put us through it in fourth year? Independent thought."
"Oh yeah," said Ron. Then he chuckled. "You could barely walk for a week!"
"That wasn't funny!" cried Harry, but he looked amused. Seriousness rushed back into his expression. "Anyway, yeah. You'll hear a voice telling you to do stuff. Ignore it. Listen to the second voice. Just do that, and you'll be free."
Hermione nodded, just once. Shivers were dancing along her spine. When they left the hall, she hurried on ahead of the boys. Harry caught up in the Entrance Hall and put a hand on her shoulder. "Try not to worry too much," he said sincerely. "As fake Moody said: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
They shared a weak laugh. Suddenly Hermione flung herself into an embrace. Harry was surprised, but returned it. "Promise me you won't let anything happen to you," he said quietly as they pulled away.
"I promise," she replied. "Now you."
Harry smiled, "Of course I promise."
"Promise what?" Ron was striding across the marble floor to where his friends stood.
"That I-"
"-won't annoy Snape today," interjected Hermione. She wasn't sure why she wanted to hide the hug from Ron, but she did.
Ron sniggered. "It's not exactly possible that Harry could keep that promise."
The trio went off to the History of Magic classroom. Draco Malfoy slid out from his hiding place behind a closet. "Looks like we didn't need to give her dreams," said a voice no teenager could have. "The Skeeter woman was not far from the truth for once."
Chapter Seven: Discovery
::::::-------------
Thoughts filled Hermione's head again. The foggy emptiness vanished. "Sorry, what was I saying?" Then she spotted Harry's fury and Ron's outrage. "What did I say?"
"You said," said Harry in a quivering voice, "that Voldemort had the right idea!"
"I said WHAT?" she cried. "B-but Harry, you know I'd never-"
"But you did," Ron interrupted. "Just a moment ago, you said is was clever and good-looking." A sulk had entered his voice, and he fell silent.
"Like Ron said, you're not yourself, Hermione," Harry said, tilting his head concernedly. His voice was considerably softened. So was Ron's expression.
"Are you feeling all right?" he asked.
"Yes - well, no actually," said Hermione. Her voice dropped to an urgent whisper. "I feel like someone's cleared my head, then I black out and when I come back to my senses, it's all a blur."
Ron gasped. "How often has this happened?" Harry inquired in a businesslike tone of voice.
"Twice," replied Hermione, equally professional. "Just now, and after Defence Against the Dark Arts with the sixth-years. I was out in the hall with - with Malfoy . . ." Realisation edged into her voice and she trailed off. Harry was taken aback by the audacity of his rival's deed.
"That means," began Ron slowly, "Malfoy must have cursed her." He paused. "But - she shouldn't come to her senses at all if that was the case . . ."
"No, Ron," said Harry, "she shouldn't. It looks like Malfoy put the Imperius Curse on you, Hermione, but it was weak. There are big gaps in his control. We have to tell Professor Dumbledore. Malfoy must be stopped."
Harry knew full well that using an Unforgivable Curse like the Imperius Curse merited a life sentence in Azkaban, but he was also aware of two other things: one, that Azkaban was not an effective prison without Dementors and was easily escaped; two, that Harry himself should be there for torturing Bellatrix Lestrange last June. The latter had weighed on his conscience for three months. How she had fallen to the floor for a moment, then laughed at Harry's attempt. Teased him about Sirius. Hot rage surged through Harry; once again he watched Bellatrix laugh as his godfather died.
"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Ron. His voice punctured Harry's memory of that awful day in the Ministry. Harry opened his eyes to see that Ron's face was full of concern.
"Nothing," Harry replied. "Nothing to worry about."
Hermione and Ron exchanged meaningful glances that plainly said, 'Sirius', but it was clear they didn't know how his thoughts got from Hermione to Sirius. Then again, they hadn't been in the Atrium when Dumbledore duelled with Voldemort. A brain had been attacking Ron, and Hermione was unconscious at the time.
"Back to Hermione," said Harry, shaking the last of the flashbacks from his system. "What can we do?"
"Not a lot," answered Ron. "The curse is so weak, it would be hard to prove that she's cursed at all. One time, my dad told me that victims of a proper one - a really strong Imperius Curse - would come out of a kind of trance when it lifted."
"But who knows what I could've done by then?" cried Hermione hysterically. The boys frantically hushed her.
"Ron's right," agreed Harry, "We can't do a lot. But you can."
Hermione stammered for a moment, pointed at herself. "What can I do?"
"Try to throw the curse," said Harry earnestly. Fear and anxiety were in his eyes. "You remember when Moody put us through it in fourth year? Independent thought."
"Oh yeah," said Ron. Then he chuckled. "You could barely walk for a week!"
"That wasn't funny!" cried Harry, but he looked amused. Seriousness rushed back into his expression. "Anyway, yeah. You'll hear a voice telling you to do stuff. Ignore it. Listen to the second voice. Just do that, and you'll be free."
Hermione nodded, just once. Shivers were dancing along her spine. When they left the hall, she hurried on ahead of the boys. Harry caught up in the Entrance Hall and put a hand on her shoulder. "Try not to worry too much," he said sincerely. "As fake Moody said: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
They shared a weak laugh. Suddenly Hermione flung herself into an embrace. Harry was surprised, but returned it. "Promise me you won't let anything happen to you," he said quietly as they pulled away.
"I promise," she replied. "Now you."
Harry smiled, "Of course I promise."
"Promise what?" Ron was striding across the marble floor to where his friends stood.
"That I-"
"-won't annoy Snape today," interjected Hermione. She wasn't sure why she wanted to hide the hug from Ron, but she did.
Ron sniggered. "It's not exactly possible that Harry could keep that promise."
The trio went off to the History of Magic classroom. Draco Malfoy slid out from his hiding place behind a closet. "Looks like we didn't need to give her dreams," said a voice no teenager could have. "The Skeeter woman was not far from the truth for once."