One Tin Soldier
Chapter Twelve: Tears
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!
A/N: Thanks to my new beta and first reviewer, SillyGillie! Woo! And another chapter done! Gillie beta-ed this during the east-coast power outage, on weird programs, so it's doubly awesome. Cheer the beta on!
~~~~~
"Frailty"
Paper war with papyrus petals,
Burned in matches, two by two,
Falling down in winding spirals,
The light of the skies shining through.
Ripping pieces of the story
Until the tale is said and done,
Paper hands in tearing glory,
Till the war is won.
Paper war in Papyrus castles,
Reaching towards the burning sky,
I stand alone, the paper soldier,
White cut-out, with the palest eye.
~~~~~
The sobs continued as the small group crossed the threshold.
The three children walked into the Headmaster's office silently, herded by Lupin, who's eyes were fixed, oddly, upon Draco. The thin man watched, eerie pupils motionless as he stepped towards the desk. He seemed to observe something that none of the others, perhaps save Dumbledore, could see.
Harry paused, unmoving, at the sight of the bent blond head, unable to process any reaction. Beside him, Ron gaped in shock at Draco, torn between anger and an odd sort of confusion. Staring through the black panes, Hermione remained silent, looking past the decorated windows and obscure magical objects. Below, on the castle grounds, the echoes of black trees swayed on the ebony waters.
Lupin, unfixing his eyes from the boy before him, nodded twice at the Headmaster. Dumbledore bowed his head in response, and Lupin walked over to Hermione, setting a hand on her arm. His soft voice echoed through the room, blending and undulating with the soft sobs.
"I will be in my quarters. I expect you to report to me. I will have dinner brought."
He looked down at her with his misty gray eyes, and left the room in silence.
For several minuets, there was only the sound of the attempted stifled sobs of Draco Malfoy, the imperious, insulting, cruel boy. The boy who never cried, never cared, who tried to kill Harry and who threatened his friends.
After a stretch of time, there was complete silence as the tears trailed off. There was a soft cough, and quietly, Harry turned to face the man behind the desk.
"We must talk." Dumbledore had his head bowed.
Hermione looked blankly into his gentle blue eyes and the boy in the chair, who was now staring imperiously around the room. Softly, she spoke to Draco.
"Your father died."
Draco looked at her, fire burning in his pale eyes. "Yes."
Hermione stared at him. Suddenly, she walked towards him, a look of fury on her face.
"So you finally understand."
"Understand what?" He spat.
She looked distantly out the window, into the darkness.
"How it feels."
He stood up, anger possessing him."I understand nothing of how you feel, Granger. I would rather DIE than understand for a single moment the thought of the likes of you."
"Why?" She looked blankly into the darkness.
"Because I..."
"Are you afraid of becoming a Mudblood through your tears? Because only the dirty cry?" She turned, glaring at him.
"HOW DARE YOU!" His hand flew, slapping her.
She stared at him as her cheek swelled.
"I pity you."
"Don't bother!" He turned, walking towards the door.
"I pity you because you refuse to admit you are human, and have to prove you are better than everyone by culling all of those who you are afraid of!" She yelled.
"I am NOT afraid of the likes of you!!" He turned, shoulders trembling with rage.
"Then why do you threaten us?" She cocked her head to one side, a preposterous curiosity in her voice. She watched as he sputtered. On the side, Harry stared.
"Because... because you... you will destroy the world, we need to have... purity..." There were tears welling in his eyes.
She looked at him, tears rising in her own. "Has it ever occurred to you, in all of your arrogance, that what he taught you might have been wrong? I know you hurt, but you can't translate your pain into murder, you'll only end up the same way."
He turned, and slammed the door as he left.
Hermione sank to the chair, and buried her face in the pillow. Harry slipped slowly into his own, and Ron gawked.
"Why.. was his father killed, anyway? I mean, i thought they used the Dementor's kiss..." Ron muttered in puzzlement.
"The Dementor's left our side, and unfortunately, our only option is to kill the most dangerous murderers... Draco's father killed at least 11 people." Dumbledore informed them. Harry stared for a moment, then faced the girl who remained sitting.
"Hermione." Harry turned to her.
"What?"
He paused, weighing his words. "What the hell is going on?"
"Harry..." Dumbledore remonstrated.
She looked up from the pillow, eyes red. "I can't tell you..."
"Why are you going after Malfoy like that? You'll get yourself killed!"Harry shrieked.
"-He will not harm any of you." Dumbledore interrupted. "And I suggest you do not assume that he will."
Harry stared at him, then turned to Hermione again. "Why can't you tell me? Or Ron?" His voice was rising in trembling confusion. "What are you hiding from us? Why?" He was starting to grow angry in his puzzlement, and was shocked to find the Headmaster's frail, thin hand pulling him back into his seat. Hermione was sobbing brokenly into her pillow.
"Harry..." The old man murmured.
Hermione spoke softly. "I CAN'T... It would... more than going after Malfoy... it would get us killed... you, Ron, me..." She sniffled, and buried her head again.
The boy tried to stand, but this time Ron had his arm, too. The redhead had an odd look on his face as he watched Hermione. A look of recognition.
"Herm..." Ron murmured.
She looked up, appearing rather puffy. "hmuh?"
"Go... to Lupin... an if he yells at you again, you can talk to us later, k?"
"I deserve it..." She stood, dropping her pillow.
"No! You don't!" Harry stood again, and two different hands pulled him down. "It's not fair, none of that was your fault, you were right, why doesn't anyone get that???"
"Harry..." She began.
"Don't take it lying down, It's not the Hermione I know!" He was staring at her desperately.
"Harry..." Dumbledore managed.
"Stop being so different, you've changed so much... You're hiding too many things, it isn't like you!" He was gaping at her, on the edge of panic.
"You know Herm, he's right.." Ron intruded. He had a very odd look on his face.
She looked at him. Harry turned too, desperate for some sort of support.
Ron turned, looking nervous, to Harry. He took a deep breath. "It's like you, Harry.." Ron stared into the shocked green eyes, and continued. "..hiding stuff, running out at odd hours with strange missions..." He looked at his friend, silently, waiting for a response.
Harry gawked at him
Hermione looked at Ron with teary eyes.
"Don't... you think it's about time that we'd be allowed our own secrets?" Ron offered, "I mean... It's hurting you, Herm... but... Harry, you have to admit that if she got O's on all of her O.W.L.'s then she should be smart enough to know what she's doing... I hope..." Ron looked nervously between the two of them. Hermione held onto the door, looking at Harry.
He bent his head, staring at the ground. "Everyone's changed...." His eyes were wide.
"Ron... thank you, Ron..." Hermione murmured.
Harry glared at the ground. There was a hand through his hair, and he looked up to Hermione. "You don't know, you don't understand, and I'm sorry, but for now it has to stay that way...."She whispered.
A few of her tears dripped onto his cloak. The door shut softly. Smiling gently, Dumbledore turned to Harry, and shook his arm gently.
"I do not know how much this will help, but Harry... if you master your Occlumency, there may be more of a chance that she will tell you." Dumbledore murmured.
"Arn't you going to question me about that, about what Voldemort said?" He spat.
Dumbledore shook his head, eyes twinkling. "I think both you and I know that it is not the time for such things. I already know, perhaps more than you, even, but for now it wil-"
"-have to stay that way." The boy sighed.
"I'm sorry..." The elderly man murmured.
Harry turned, looking blankly at him, nodding slightly.
"Now, on the matter of the Quidditch Captainship..." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly at both the boys.
The room spun a bit, but Harry held on to the conversation as he listened to the footsteps drown down the staircase.
"Well, sir... Have you ever heard of a joint running?"Harry began.
~~~~~
Near to an hour later, Ron and Harry had managed to drag their weary feet to the base of Gryffindor tower, only to find yet another surprise at the base.
"Where have you been?" The little redhead demanded.
Ginny stood beside Professor McGonagall, who leaned slightly on her walking stick. The two of them looked rather imposing, standing beside Portrait Hole. Harry and Ron froze, torn between gratefulness for knowing someone waited to tell them the password, and horror of what might be waiting.
"We've been waiting, Potter, for the opportunity to discuss this year's Quidditch team and our potential players!" McGonagall looked expectantly at Harry, her cheerful tone covering something deeper.
"Erm.... What about Katie? Why isn't she up for... uh... captain...?" Harry found he couldn't resist this potential escape, however he was caught off guard by the look of sadness in the eyes of the two women before him.
"Oh dear, we thought you..." McGonagall stared at them.
"Harry... you missed the dinner... but... as Dumbledore was absent for Mal..foy's sake... Professor McGonagall had to deliver some... bad news... Katie, and several other people, didn't make it through the summer. They were either killed, or captured, while they were abroad. We thought you knew..." Ginny looked at them sadly.
Harry paused, pain and sickness running through his body yet again.
"What?" Ron stared at his sister. "Why didn't we know? Why didn't the papers-"
"Mr. Weasley, the deaths were a guarded secret, the Ministry still refuses to admit they were the fault of Voldemort..." McGonagall paused. "They also refuse to let other publishers catch wind of such... However Dumbledore insists that you children are informed.." She looked at them.
"Did you tell them... about Hermione... and Malfoy?"Ron asked, eyes riveted on the ground.
"We told them about everyone whom we were sure had lost as a direct cause of Voldemort." There were a few tears in Ginny's eyes.
The Professor, who looked much frailer for her encounter with a squadron of Ministry workers the past semester, sighed wheezily and tapped the painting of the fat lady to wake her up, muttering the password.
"Thorn's Tears."
She ushered the boys in, and looked at them solemnly through the hole.
"Has Ms. Granger been well?"
Harry and Ron looked at each other, confused. The Professor looked at Harry with a deep sorrow.
"I understand. Now is not the time, I suppose, for discussing the Quidditch team. I will speak to each of you this coming Thursday. So I suppose this is goodnight, for now. Rest well, and behave, please, I cannot chase students like I used to." She smiled her peculiarly commanding smile, albeit wearily, and turned as the portrait swung shut.
Ron looked at Harry, utter confusion in his eyes.
"I know less than you do, Ron... At least you seem to get it.." His face was twisted in anger. Ginny stepped nearer to her brother, the two looking worriedly up at one another as their friend stomped away. Harry turned, and walked up the stairs, missing Sirius, his guidance, and his humor more than ever.
In the darkness of his room, it seemed that everything became more complex. As he lay down, the sobs of Draco Malfoy echoed in his ears. Try as he might, Harry could not sort out how he felt.
Troubled, his mind drifted off into sleep.
~~~~~
Chapter Twelve: Tears
Disclaimer: I woke up one day and wasn't J.K. Rowling. I was sad, so I decided to write Fanfiction, and this is what you get!
A/N: Thanks to my new beta and first reviewer, SillyGillie! Woo! And another chapter done! Gillie beta-ed this during the east-coast power outage, on weird programs, so it's doubly awesome. Cheer the beta on!
~~~~~
"Frailty"
Paper war with papyrus petals,
Burned in matches, two by two,
Falling down in winding spirals,
The light of the skies shining through.
Ripping pieces of the story
Until the tale is said and done,
Paper hands in tearing glory,
Till the war is won.
Paper war in Papyrus castles,
Reaching towards the burning sky,
I stand alone, the paper soldier,
White cut-out, with the palest eye.
~~~~~
The sobs continued as the small group crossed the threshold.
The three children walked into the Headmaster's office silently, herded by Lupin, who's eyes were fixed, oddly, upon Draco. The thin man watched, eerie pupils motionless as he stepped towards the desk. He seemed to observe something that none of the others, perhaps save Dumbledore, could see.
Harry paused, unmoving, at the sight of the bent blond head, unable to process any reaction. Beside him, Ron gaped in shock at Draco, torn between anger and an odd sort of confusion. Staring through the black panes, Hermione remained silent, looking past the decorated windows and obscure magical objects. Below, on the castle grounds, the echoes of black trees swayed on the ebony waters.
Lupin, unfixing his eyes from the boy before him, nodded twice at the Headmaster. Dumbledore bowed his head in response, and Lupin walked over to Hermione, setting a hand on her arm. His soft voice echoed through the room, blending and undulating with the soft sobs.
"I will be in my quarters. I expect you to report to me. I will have dinner brought."
He looked down at her with his misty gray eyes, and left the room in silence.
For several minuets, there was only the sound of the attempted stifled sobs of Draco Malfoy, the imperious, insulting, cruel boy. The boy who never cried, never cared, who tried to kill Harry and who threatened his friends.
After a stretch of time, there was complete silence as the tears trailed off. There was a soft cough, and quietly, Harry turned to face the man behind the desk.
"We must talk." Dumbledore had his head bowed.
Hermione looked blankly into his gentle blue eyes and the boy in the chair, who was now staring imperiously around the room. Softly, she spoke to Draco.
"Your father died."
Draco looked at her, fire burning in his pale eyes. "Yes."
Hermione stared at him. Suddenly, she walked towards him, a look of fury on her face.
"So you finally understand."
"Understand what?" He spat.
She looked distantly out the window, into the darkness.
"How it feels."
He stood up, anger possessing him."I understand nothing of how you feel, Granger. I would rather DIE than understand for a single moment the thought of the likes of you."
"Why?" She looked blankly into the darkness.
"Because I..."
"Are you afraid of becoming a Mudblood through your tears? Because only the dirty cry?" She turned, glaring at him.
"HOW DARE YOU!" His hand flew, slapping her.
She stared at him as her cheek swelled.
"I pity you."
"Don't bother!" He turned, walking towards the door.
"I pity you because you refuse to admit you are human, and have to prove you are better than everyone by culling all of those who you are afraid of!" She yelled.
"I am NOT afraid of the likes of you!!" He turned, shoulders trembling with rage.
"Then why do you threaten us?" She cocked her head to one side, a preposterous curiosity in her voice. She watched as he sputtered. On the side, Harry stared.
"Because... because you... you will destroy the world, we need to have... purity..." There were tears welling in his eyes.
She looked at him, tears rising in her own. "Has it ever occurred to you, in all of your arrogance, that what he taught you might have been wrong? I know you hurt, but you can't translate your pain into murder, you'll only end up the same way."
He turned, and slammed the door as he left.
Hermione sank to the chair, and buried her face in the pillow. Harry slipped slowly into his own, and Ron gawked.
"Why.. was his father killed, anyway? I mean, i thought they used the Dementor's kiss..." Ron muttered in puzzlement.
"The Dementor's left our side, and unfortunately, our only option is to kill the most dangerous murderers... Draco's father killed at least 11 people." Dumbledore informed them. Harry stared for a moment, then faced the girl who remained sitting.
"Hermione." Harry turned to her.
"What?"
He paused, weighing his words. "What the hell is going on?"
"Harry..." Dumbledore remonstrated.
She looked up from the pillow, eyes red. "I can't tell you..."
"Why are you going after Malfoy like that? You'll get yourself killed!"Harry shrieked.
"-He will not harm any of you." Dumbledore interrupted. "And I suggest you do not assume that he will."
Harry stared at him, then turned to Hermione again. "Why can't you tell me? Or Ron?" His voice was rising in trembling confusion. "What are you hiding from us? Why?" He was starting to grow angry in his puzzlement, and was shocked to find the Headmaster's frail, thin hand pulling him back into his seat. Hermione was sobbing brokenly into her pillow.
"Harry..." The old man murmured.
Hermione spoke softly. "I CAN'T... It would... more than going after Malfoy... it would get us killed... you, Ron, me..." She sniffled, and buried her head again.
The boy tried to stand, but this time Ron had his arm, too. The redhead had an odd look on his face as he watched Hermione. A look of recognition.
"Herm..." Ron murmured.
She looked up, appearing rather puffy. "hmuh?"
"Go... to Lupin... an if he yells at you again, you can talk to us later, k?"
"I deserve it..." She stood, dropping her pillow.
"No! You don't!" Harry stood again, and two different hands pulled him down. "It's not fair, none of that was your fault, you were right, why doesn't anyone get that???"
"Harry..." She began.
"Don't take it lying down, It's not the Hermione I know!" He was staring at her desperately.
"Harry..." Dumbledore managed.
"Stop being so different, you've changed so much... You're hiding too many things, it isn't like you!" He was gaping at her, on the edge of panic.
"You know Herm, he's right.." Ron intruded. He had a very odd look on his face.
She looked at him. Harry turned too, desperate for some sort of support.
Ron turned, looking nervous, to Harry. He took a deep breath. "It's like you, Harry.." Ron stared into the shocked green eyes, and continued. "..hiding stuff, running out at odd hours with strange missions..." He looked at his friend, silently, waiting for a response.
Harry gawked at him
Hermione looked at Ron with teary eyes.
"Don't... you think it's about time that we'd be allowed our own secrets?" Ron offered, "I mean... It's hurting you, Herm... but... Harry, you have to admit that if she got O's on all of her O.W.L.'s then she should be smart enough to know what she's doing... I hope..." Ron looked nervously between the two of them. Hermione held onto the door, looking at Harry.
He bent his head, staring at the ground. "Everyone's changed...." His eyes were wide.
"Ron... thank you, Ron..." Hermione murmured.
Harry glared at the ground. There was a hand through his hair, and he looked up to Hermione. "You don't know, you don't understand, and I'm sorry, but for now it has to stay that way...."She whispered.
A few of her tears dripped onto his cloak. The door shut softly. Smiling gently, Dumbledore turned to Harry, and shook his arm gently.
"I do not know how much this will help, but Harry... if you master your Occlumency, there may be more of a chance that she will tell you." Dumbledore murmured.
"Arn't you going to question me about that, about what Voldemort said?" He spat.
Dumbledore shook his head, eyes twinkling. "I think both you and I know that it is not the time for such things. I already know, perhaps more than you, even, but for now it wil-"
"-have to stay that way." The boy sighed.
"I'm sorry..." The elderly man murmured.
Harry turned, looking blankly at him, nodding slightly.
"Now, on the matter of the Quidditch Captainship..." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly at both the boys.
The room spun a bit, but Harry held on to the conversation as he listened to the footsteps drown down the staircase.
"Well, sir... Have you ever heard of a joint running?"Harry began.
~~~~~
Near to an hour later, Ron and Harry had managed to drag their weary feet to the base of Gryffindor tower, only to find yet another surprise at the base.
"Where have you been?" The little redhead demanded.
Ginny stood beside Professor McGonagall, who leaned slightly on her walking stick. The two of them looked rather imposing, standing beside Portrait Hole. Harry and Ron froze, torn between gratefulness for knowing someone waited to tell them the password, and horror of what might be waiting.
"We've been waiting, Potter, for the opportunity to discuss this year's Quidditch team and our potential players!" McGonagall looked expectantly at Harry, her cheerful tone covering something deeper.
"Erm.... What about Katie? Why isn't she up for... uh... captain...?" Harry found he couldn't resist this potential escape, however he was caught off guard by the look of sadness in the eyes of the two women before him.
"Oh dear, we thought you..." McGonagall stared at them.
"Harry... you missed the dinner... but... as Dumbledore was absent for Mal..foy's sake... Professor McGonagall had to deliver some... bad news... Katie, and several other people, didn't make it through the summer. They were either killed, or captured, while they were abroad. We thought you knew..." Ginny looked at them sadly.
Harry paused, pain and sickness running through his body yet again.
"What?" Ron stared at his sister. "Why didn't we know? Why didn't the papers-"
"Mr. Weasley, the deaths were a guarded secret, the Ministry still refuses to admit they were the fault of Voldemort..." McGonagall paused. "They also refuse to let other publishers catch wind of such... However Dumbledore insists that you children are informed.." She looked at them.
"Did you tell them... about Hermione... and Malfoy?"Ron asked, eyes riveted on the ground.
"We told them about everyone whom we were sure had lost as a direct cause of Voldemort." There were a few tears in Ginny's eyes.
The Professor, who looked much frailer for her encounter with a squadron of Ministry workers the past semester, sighed wheezily and tapped the painting of the fat lady to wake her up, muttering the password.
"Thorn's Tears."
She ushered the boys in, and looked at them solemnly through the hole.
"Has Ms. Granger been well?"
Harry and Ron looked at each other, confused. The Professor looked at Harry with a deep sorrow.
"I understand. Now is not the time, I suppose, for discussing the Quidditch team. I will speak to each of you this coming Thursday. So I suppose this is goodnight, for now. Rest well, and behave, please, I cannot chase students like I used to." She smiled her peculiarly commanding smile, albeit wearily, and turned as the portrait swung shut.
Ron looked at Harry, utter confusion in his eyes.
"I know less than you do, Ron... At least you seem to get it.." His face was twisted in anger. Ginny stepped nearer to her brother, the two looking worriedly up at one another as their friend stomped away. Harry turned, and walked up the stairs, missing Sirius, his guidance, and his humor more than ever.
In the darkness of his room, it seemed that everything became more complex. As he lay down, the sobs of Draco Malfoy echoed in his ears. Try as he might, Harry could not sort out how he felt.
Troubled, his mind drifted off into sleep.
~~~~~