A/N: Here's the next chapter. Some warnings: it's really really long (compared to my other chapters) and not a lot happens.
As it turns out, most of my chapters are around 1,700 words long. This one is about twice as long.
Also, as I said, nothing really happens. We get into Hermione's mind and memories, and her feelings towards Harry. Almost all exposition. If you don't care about that, then you can skip the first half of the chapter to her conversation with Ron.
Again, thanks for the reviews! At first I didn't think I'd care, that I would just write for myself. But reading the kind words of everyone (especially onkel and ears91, my multiple reviewers, and also to Voldie On Varsity Track, sunny38, aZn*faMe, David M. Potter, and urban-chic64) makes me really want to write and post this story! I hope the lack of action in this chapter doesn't disappoint, and I promise the next chapter has more action. Enjoy!
8. Missing
For Hermione Granger, breakfast was her time of peace before another hectic day began at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione was an early-riser by nature. She was usually one of the first students at breakfast, where she was able to finish a few lines of homework, read a good book, or simply enjoy the peace of the day.
On this morning, a Hogsmeade day, Hermione was immersed in a new book ("Arithmancy and it's Uses for Practical Living") when she felt a soft kiss on the top of her head. Looking up, she smiled.
"Eddie! I didn't see you come in," she said warmly.
"Don't I know it. Always with your nose in a book," he teased gently. "Meet you in the hall after breakfast?" he asked.
Hermione nodded. "Looking forward to it."
Eddie grinned and gave her a quick kiss before retreating to the Ravenclaw table. Hermione watched him for a few moments before letting out a great sigh.
Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about Eddie Carmichael. Sure, he was smart (he was Head Boy for a reason) and popular, and quite good-looking. But she didn't feel that…that thing you're supposed to feel when you're in love. She'd heard being in love is like being pregnant: either you are or you aren't, and you'll know when you are. But Hermione didn't know if she was in love with Eddie. Weren't there supposed to be fireworks, a spark, or something whenever she looked at him? Sure, she definitely felt something whenever they kissed, but was that love, or just lust? Hermione blushed a little at that last thought. She'd been so flattered when he first started paying attention to her on the train going to Hogwarts. Eddie started following her around, flirting madly with her during and after the prefect meetings. Hermione had never been popular with the boys; too brainy, too bushy-haired, too bossy, and not pretty enough. She was surprised by the attentions Victor Krum paid her in her fourth year, and she pleased by the attentions of Eddie Carmichael. He made her feel attractive, something she never felt before (though she almost felt that way at the Yule Ball with Victor, but her fight with Ron diminished those feelings).
Hermione was worried about how a relationship with Eddie would affect her friendship with Ron and Harry. She was less worried with Harry, but she knew Ron probably had a little crush on her. But Eddie's ceaseless courting overcame her reservations, and they had begun dating. Hermione chose to keep it a secret, trying to find the perfect time to tell Harry and Ron. But if she could have chosen a way to tell them, being caught in a dark hallway snogging with Eddie would definitely not have been it. But caught she was (and by Harry no less!), and her secret was revealed. As expected, Ron was hurt and angry, but there was nothing she could do about that. Ron avoided Hermione afterwards, and she missed him, but she knew he would need time to heal. She was sure he would talk to her again, if nothing else but for help on some homework assignment.
But strangely, Harry also seemed hurt; Hermione figured he didn't like being kept in the dark about her relationship with Eddie. And then there was their fight last night. Hermione groaned inwardly, deeply ashamed of the words she uttered in the empty classroom. She wasn't sure what caused it all; sure she was worried about Harry and wasn't pleased that trouble seemed to find him again. In fact, she had been downright angry that he was even thinking about running off to face trouble. But it really wasn't his fault that Voldemort seems to have a vendetta against him, was it? It's not like he wanted to face death annually or to be the Boy-Who-Lived. Maybe it was because she was late for a meeting with Eddie; maybe it was because she had believed that Harry's dreams would stop if he just studied occlumency hard enough; maybe it was just the thought of Harry running off again, trying to save the world, and placing himself in mortal peril; or maybe it was all of it that caused her to yell at him and say those awful things.
And was any of it true? Hermione pondered that question. Sure, she ferverently wished for a normal life for herself, but more so for Harry, so that part was true. But she also knew that she would always stand by Harry no matter what, as she had done so in the past. Hermione sighed again, then looked around the Great Hall as students started to file in. She hoped to spot Harry to apologize and to let him know she didn't mean any of the things she said, but he never showed up for breakfast. Hermione shrugged sadly, then left to meet Eddie to go on their date to Hogsmeade. Perhaps being alone with him would inspire her to feel whatever she was supposed to feel when she was supposed to be in love.
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Hermione came down to dinner that night with a lot on her mind. Her day with Eddie in Hogsmeade had been great fun. They visited all the usual spots, shared a butterbeer and an ice cream sundae, and even browsed the shelves at Flourish & Blott's. But she still didn't feel like she was in love. Maybe everything she had heard about love was wrong, or perhaps you were just supposed to grow into it. Or maybe she was just over-analyzing it, like she did everything else. She did know that she always had a fun time with Eddie, but she wasn't yet comfortable enough with him to the point where she could just tell him anything, like she could with Harry (sure, she could also talk to Ron, but not as openly as he tended to ridicule her about certain things, like S.P.E.W.). After all, Harry was still her best friend, even though they haven't talked much since school started, as Hermione spent most of her free time with Eddie.
Hermione laughed at herself. She pictured what her ten-year old self would say if she knew she would someday ignore the Harry Potter for some guy named Eddie Carmichael. She remembered with fondness (and with a little embarrassment) on that innocent, little ten-year old girl who opened her first letter from Hogwarts and found out she was a witch. Growing up wasn't easy for Hermione. Her younger self was very much like her current self: bushy-haired, bookish, bossy, and not afraid to show she was smart. The only difference was that at ten, she still had her large front teeth. At school, she was considered nerdy, her nose in a book and her hand in the air, begging to answer teacher's questions. Her looks, the large front teeth and the bushy hair, did nothing to enhance her image. She tried to fit in, honestly, she tried her best, but she couldn't help who she was. At first, she would spend nights crying about the latest jokes or pranks the other children would play on her. Eventually, she learned to ignore it (for really, she had no choice), and found her solace in books, particularly in fairy tales. Growing up, Hermione found comfort in the stories of faraway places with beautiful princesses and their dashing princes who always saved the day. She would imagine herself as the fair maiden, held captive by one evil madman or another, until her handsome hero would rescue her. She dreamed of living in a world of magic and wonderment.
The day her letter arrived from Hogwarts, Hermione was thrilled beyond belief. Not only was magic real, but Hermione was a witch! She was special (as her parents would often remind her), and soon she would go to a school with people just like her, with other students who could understand her. Her parents were initially reluctant to send Hermione to a school for witches, but they knew how unhappy she was at her non-magic school and how excited she was about the magic one. Hermione was never happier to go back to school, for not only would she not have to attend her old school where she was made fun of, but also she would be entering her fairy tale world.
Of course, being Hermione, she couldn't simply wait for school to begin to learn about her new world. Instead, she used her time wisely, convincing her parents to buy her several books about the wizarding world. Through those books, she learned many facts about her new world and her new school, and of arguably the most important event to occur in the last 20 years: the defeat of Lord Voldemort. She read all about the actions of Voldemort in one night (thankfully her parents hadn't read through her books; they would never have let her read such frightful things), and she suffered horrible nightmares for the next week. Voldemort was scarier then every fictional monster she had ever read or heard about because he was real, and if other wizards, older and wiser the she, were afraid to say his name, Hermione wouldn't dare say it herself.
While You-Know-Who represented everything to fear about her new world, Harry Potter represented everything she always dreamed about. It was like a fairy tale come true: Harry Potter, just a baby, defeating the most evil wizard alive, then wisked away out of public sight. It was also a sad story, what with his parents being killed by You-Know-Who. Hermione figured out that Harry Potter would be about her age, just a few months older, and when she realized that he might be at Hogwarts next year too, she fell into a state of glee for three full days! Harry Potter certainly fit the role of the dashing hero, and maybe, just maybe, Hermione Granger could be his fair maiden. In the days before heading to Platform 9¾, all Hermione could talk and think about was meeting Harry Potter. She feared he would be arrogant and rude, and would look down his nose at her, like all the boys at school did. But she still hoped.
When she first entered that fateful compartment on the Hogwarts Express, looking for a toad, she would never have imagined that she would be meeting Harry Potter. The other boy, the redhead, reminded her too painfully of all the boys that had been mean to her at her old school. The other boy, the one with the glasses and messy hair, seemed shy. When she found out that he was, in fact, Harry Potter, she became nervous and flustered, and Hermione did what she does when she gets flustered: she talks. And talks. She could tell he was uncomfortable when she told him she knew everything about him, like she was obsessed with him or something, but she just couldn't stop. As soon as she could, she managed to excuse herself from the compartment and immediately berated herself for being such a blabbermouth. But she was happy that Harry Potter didn't seem arrogant, nice in fact, and she still had her hope; they had the whole year ahead of them.
Of course, Hermione had read about the four Houses before stepping foot on the train. She knew that she would probably be sorted into Ravenclaw, and she wasn't fond of that idea one bit. She knew that Harry Potter's parents had been in Gryffindor, and even if they weren't, what house better fit the Boy-Who-Lived than Gryffindor, the house of bravery? So when she sat on the stool and felt the Sorting Hat placed on her head, she begged and pleaded to be placed in Gryffindor. The Hat seemed to think she belonged in Ravenclaw, but what did a hat know about fate and love, anyways? Somehow she managed to convince the Hat (perhaps by threatening to cry if placed in Ravenclaw), and her wish come true. She was in the same house as Harry Potter.
Unfortunately, that was the only bright spot for Hermione in her first two months of school. She had hoped to find that her fellow students were just like her, bookish and smart. But in fact, it was just like her old school all over again, except with magic. Her roommates were such pretty girls, and all they seemed to talk about was hair, make-up, and boys. And to Hermione's great dismay, Harry Potter became best friends with that redheaded boy from the train, Ron Weasley. Ron was everything Hermione was not: outgoing, not studious, and popular, and he made friends with everyone he met (except for that mean Slytherin boy). Hermione tried her best to become friends with Harry Potter, even following him (and that Ron Weasley) around school and getting caught up in their troubles with Fluffy. Although Ron Weasley openly didn't like her, Harry Potter was less vocal, and still Hermione had her hopes alive. But all her hopes were smashed that day when she overheard them talking after Charms. Although it was Ron who was making fun of her, saying such horrid things like she had no friends, she saw Harry chuckle and nod. Her dreams became a nightmare – she would never become friends with Harry Potter, she would never be his fair maiden, and she was still bookish and nerdy Hermione (just with magic). She burst into tears and hid herself in the girls' lavatory.
Strangely enough, though such a childish thing to do, hiding in the bathroom, it turned out to be the best decision of her life. She was terrified when the troll lumbered into the bathroom, swinging his massive club at her. But all of sudden, it was like her fairy tale come true, for there was Harry Potter to the rescue, leaping onto the troll to save her life. His friend, Ron Weasley, cast a spell or something, but her eyes were focused only on Harry. And when the professors arrived, she knew she couldn't let them take the blame, so she covered for them. And that turned out to be the second best decision of her life; for, ever since, the three of them were the best of friends. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley became the first real friends she'd ever had. Over time, her silly little crush on Harry Potter had faded, to be replaced by a more mature friendship that she treasured.
Unlike Ron, Hermione much preferred being known as "Harry Potter's friend." She could understand how Ron felt though; he was already overshadowed by the accomplishments of his many brothers, and now Harry overshadowed him. But for Hermione, being Harry Potter's friend gave her acceptance by the rest of the school. To be sure, she was still bookish and bossy, but now instead of first being identified as "that know-it-all," she was first known as Harry's friend. Although it annoyed her to no end that people were always trying to talk to her about Harry, at least they weren't making fun of her. People seemed to give her the benefit of the doubt when first meeting her since Harry had obviously approved of her, and she was able to make friends with her classmates and her roommates (although they were mystified by her lack of interest in hair, make-up, and boys).
Being Harry's friend was not without it troubles. They lost all those points in first year, and she had plenty of adventures throughout her years at Hogwarts because of him. Outwardly, she disapproved of all the trouble her two friends got into and did her best to steer them away from it. But inwardly, she had to be honest with herself – she loved every minute of every adventure. Even riding that hippograff in third year had given her a thrill, once she got over her initial fear, that is. Perhaps that's why the Hat placed her in Gryffindor after all; she was braver then she would ever have thought.
But at the end of fourth year, her adventures took a darker tone. Sure, they had all faced death in some shape for form, but all of sudden it became real. You-Know-Who was back, and he was after Harry. Before, the worst Hermione would worry about are the detentions and expulsion that the three of them might receive if caught, but now she feared for Harry's very life. And somehow, despite everyone trying to keep him out of trouble, he still managed to find it, or vice versa. And with their sixth year barely started, it seemed trouble wanted Harry Potter again. And Hermione was worried for Harry, because he was her best friend. And only her best friend, right?
Hermione shook her head, trying to prevent those thoughts from entering her mind. She had thought her little schoolgirl crush on Harry Potter had disappeared when she was eleven. She had long ago convinced herself that it was only friendship she felt for Harry, that it was out of concern for his safety that she could be so enthralled by watching him play a sport that would normally bore her to tears. Hermione even tried her best to help Harry form a relationship with Cho Chang last year; that truly was proof that she had no other feelings for him, right?
Then why, she had to ask herself, was she so irritated when Harry and Cho had kissed? Why had she all of a sudden started playing closer attention whenever they were together? And why, when Hagrid's "little" brother was taking swipes at her, did she feel a strange happiness when Harry protected her with his body, holding her, a feeling that was completely inappropriate considering the circumstances? And in the Department of Mysteries, why had she felt oddly pleased that Harry grabbed her cloak, not Ginny's, not Ron's, nor anyone else's, but her cloak and pulled her along to safety? In both cases she was facing death, and she was scared, terrified even, but at the same time, she felt it would be ok as long as Harry was with her. Did she really enjoy the adventure, or did she just like having experiences where it was only she and Harry together?
Hermione shook her head again, trying to focus at the immediate issue. No one had seen Harry all day; Hermione had even resorted to asking some of his "fan club" if they had seen him. She desperately wanted to apologize to him, but couldn't if he was nowhere to be found. As dinner progressed, Hermione nodded absently and joined in a few conversations with Ginny and some other girls, but all the while she was growing more and more uneasy, afraid that Harry had done something, well, Harry-like. Where could he be?
When Harry failed to make an appearance that night in the common room, Hermione asked around. It turned out that no one had seen him since last night, when he had a fierce collision with Colin Creevy ("If you see Harry, tell him I'm really sorry! Oh, and tell him we accidentally switched wands," Colin had said, holding up Harry's wand with reverence). As Hermione sat by the fireplace pondering her next action, she spotted Ron walk by.
"Hey Ron!" she called out, without thinking. "Have you seen Harry around?"
Ron paused a moment, then turned to face Hermione with a look of annoyance on his face. "Can't a guy go fifteen minutes without hearing about the great Harry Potter? Does everything in this school have to revolve around the deeds and whereabouts of Harry Potter?" Ron said, throwing his hands up in frustration.
"Ron," Hermione said with exaggerated calmness, "not everything revolves around Harry. I'm just worried about him. He came to me last night about a dream he had…"
"Another dream?!" Ron interrupted with frustration. "What, he still hasn't learned his lesson? Trying to get another one of us killed like he did Siri– "
SMACK!
Ron, his hand on his cheek, staggered backwards, not so much from the force of the blow but rather from the shock of being slapped by Hermione. All conversation in the common room ceased, as Ron and Hermione became the center of attention, but neither Ron nor Hermione noticed nor cared.
"Now you listen to me, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione said angrily, her hands on her hips in a pose of righteous fury. "You have been the biggest prat ever since the second week of school, and I'm sick of it! Just name one time when he ever wanted any of this, when Harry ever used his name or his money to do anything for himself! You know Harry better than anyone here; you know the other side of his fame, the things he's had to go through."
Ron looked taken aback, but did not back down. "But everything good always happens to Harry; he's rich, he's famous, he's the bloody youngest seeker in a century and Quidditch captain, he has the Order of Merlin, he …"
"…has no family," Hermione interrupted. "He was locked in a cupboard for eleven years. He has the most evil wizard alive trying to kill him, and he's just lost his godfather. Not everything's about you Ron!"
Ron stared at her, his mouth working but no sounds coming out. "But…" he started.
"But nothing!" Hermione shouted. "You're so focused on yourself that you've forgotten about Harry. Do you think he wanted any of the attention? Did you know he tried to turn down both the Order of Merlin and Quidditch captain? Have you already forgotten what happened two years ago, when you were being a bloody idiot just like now?"
That stopped Ron in his tracks. He looked at her a moment, then slowly sat on the couch beside her as her words started to penetrate his anger. "Oh bloody hell," he muttered after a moment, his head in his hands. "I have been a jealous twit, haven't I?" he asked with remorse.
Hermione placed a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Yes, you have," she agreed. The other Gryffindors, realizing the loud part of their argument was over, returned to their previous activities. Hermione hesitated to say what was on her mind, not wishing to hurt Ron, but she decided it needed to be said. "Ron, listen." She began. "I'm not sure the best way to say this, but you really have to get over your own insecurities about your family."
Ron turned to look at her, and Hermione feared another angry outburst. Instead, he just sighed heavily. "You're right Hermione. But it's just so hard. All my brothers are known for something, for being unique and great. I'm always being compared to them, how Bill was head boy, Charlie was a great Quidditch player, Fred and George were so funny (Percy can go sod off!). I'm not known for anything, just being Harry Potter's best friend," he said miserably.
"But don't you see Ron?" Hermione asked. "That's what makes you different. How many of your brothers faced a three-headed dog, or went into the Chamber of Secrets, or confronted Wormtail, or dueled with Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries? Yes, Ronald Weasley, you are not Harry Potter. But Harry couldn't have done anything without you." Hermione said. Ron looked a little cheered by her words. "Just think," she continued. "Twenty years from now, when some second year comes across a Hogwarts yearbook, do you think they'll recognize names like Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, or Neville Longbottom? Of course not! But they'll recognize your name. They'll say, 'oh, I know that Ron Weasley. He helped Harry Potter through all those adventures and even got that Special Award for saving the school!' Ron, you've seen and done more in the past five years than your brothers have done put together!"
"I suppose," Ron said reluctantly.
"Besides," Hermione said. "Who won the Quidditch cup last year when Harry Potter was banned? Who made keeper based on his own talents, not by being Harry Potter's best friend?"
"Yeah, yeah, ok Hermione, I get the point," Ron said, blushing slightly. "But it does get frustrating sometimes, especially when Harry has all those girls following him around," he said bitterly.
"Oh Ron," Hermione replied. "There are plenty of great things about Ron Weasley. You're funny, outgoing, brave, and a loyal friend, when you remember, that is," she said with a playful punch on his shoulder. "Any girl would be lucky to have you."
Ron gave her a funny look. He took a deep breath. "And what about you, Hermione. Would you feel lucky to have me?"
Hermione groaned inwardly; she knew that they had to have the talk, but she had hoped her relationship with Eddie would help her avoid it. Ah well. "Listen Ron," she said in her most sympathetic voice, "you don't love me. You only think you do."
"What do you mean, I don't love you?" he asked, the initial surprise at her words overcoming any hurt he was feeling.
"I mean just that Ron." Hermione said. "We've been such good friends for so long, it's only natural you see us together because you see me as someone safe."
"Safe?" Ron repeated. "Safe has nothing to do with it. I've liked you since fourth year; my eyes were opened when you went to the Yule Ball with Krum," he said earnestly.
Hermione just shook her head. "But don't you see Ron? That's just another example of your jealousy. You didn't like me, you were just jealous of Victor, afraid he was taking something away from you, that I would like him more than I like you," she said. When Ron didn't reply, she continued, "We're just too different Ron, we would never work out."
"But…but opposites attract," he said, lamely.
Hermione chuckled. "Seriously Ron, can you really see us together? We have such different interests. I love reading and learning and schoolwork; you hate those things. You love Quidditch, and I can't understand why."
"But we're like that now, and we're still best friends," Ron protested.
"Friends who fight a lot," Hermione replied off-handedly. "Besides, it would be different if we were dating," she said seriously. "Could you really be happy if I were to spend so much time doing homework rather than be with you? Can you accept it if I were to prefer to be in the library or work on S.P.E.W. than out with you in Hogsmeade? Or that fact that I will never like Quidditch the way you do? Wouldn't you rather be with someone who shared your enthusiasm for Quidditch and who wasn't concerned with house elf equality?" she said with a smile.
Ron sat quietly, letting her words sink in. After a long moment, as Hermione began to fear she hadn't gotten through, Ron finally nodded. "You're right," he said. "I guess arguing about homework or Quidditch twenty-four hours of the day wouldn't be the most fun thing to do," he said with a half-smile. Hermione was heartened; she knew it would take time, but she could tell that Ron was finally beginning to see things for the way they were. Now, once they found Harry, things could go back to the way they were between the three of them, before hormones got involved.
"So anyways," Ron said, changing the subject. "You mentioned Harry had another dream?"
Hermione nodded, and proceeded to tell Ron about her argument with Harry. She confessed that she didn't know the details of the dream, for she had cut him off before he could tell her. She expressed her worry for Harry, since she hasn't seen him since last night and was afraid he might do something rash.
"Doing something rash. That sounds like Harry alright," Ron said, after Hermione had finished. "Well, let's go look for him. I'll check our room to see if he's left any clues."
When Ron returned from checking their dorm room, he reported that the curtains to Harry's bed were charmed shut. Hermione started to panic. Harry wouldn't just disappear for a whole day, and she feared what state he might be in behind his bed curtains. Hermione and Ron left through the portrait hole and split up to look for Professors McGonnagal or Dumbledore, figuring with two people looking they would have a better chance.
It was Hermione who found someone first. "Professor McGonnagal," she called, out of breath from rushing about the halls.
"Ms. Granger," McGonnagal replied in surprise, "please calm down. Take a deep breath."
"It's Harry," Hermione cried, "I think something happened!"
McGonnagal quickly grew concerned. "Harry? What's happened?"
"I'm not sure," Hermione said. "No one's seen him since last night, and Ron said his bed curtains were sealed shut with magic!"
McGonnagal didn't waste anytime. "Let's go" she said, and immediately headed towards Gryffindor tower, Hermione following closely behind.
McGonnagal knocked quickly then entered the sixth-year boys dormitory, startling Seamus and Neville. McGonnagal nodded curtly to them, then approached Harry's bed, Hermione by her side. McGonnagal tried, and failed, to draw the curtains.
"Hmmm," she muttered. "Finite Incantatum!" she cried, pointing her wand at the bed curtains. She swiftly grabbed ahold of the curtains and swept them aside, revealing a bed holding only Harry's letter. Hermione reached over and picked up the letter. Noticing the addressee, she handed it to Professor McGonnagal with a curious look.
McGonnagal took the letter, apprehension written all over her normally strict face. She looked at it a moment, then quickly broke the seal and read it. Hermione watched as her face went from anxious to near panic as she finished the letter. McGonnagal looked at Hermione.
"Oh dear," she muttered, and then left the boys' room with a sense of urgency. Hermione exchanged confused looks with Neville and Seamus before following after her professor.
"Professor McGonnagal! Professor McGonnagal!" Hermione cried, running to catch up with her teacher. "What does the letter say?" she asked frantically. Professor McGonnagal didn't slow her pace as she walked, apparently headed towards Dumbledore's office. But she wordlessly handed Harry's letter to Hermione. Hermione, still half-running to keep up with the taller woman, opened the parchment and began to read. As she read, her heart grew heavy, and despair seemed to fill her. She felt sick to her stomach, and would have collapsed if she hadn't been so intent on keeping up with Professor McGonnagal. When they reached the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, McGonnagal snatched the letter from Hermione.
"I'm sorry Ms. Granger, but Professor Dumbledore and I need to speak in private. Please keep what you've read to yourself for the time being," McGonnagal said, then gave the password and disappeared up the revolving staircase.
Hermione could only stare, and finally her legs could no longer support her. She thought of Harry last night, about what he said he had dreamed. If only she had listened, or done a better job of convincing him to stay! Hermione sat next to the stone gargoyle and cried. A few minutes later, the stone gargoyle began moving again. Hermione scrambled to her feet and wiped her eyes. Soon, Dumbledore and McGonnagal came down, looking extremely worried. Dumbledore fixed Hermione with a look.
"Ms. Granger, please return to your common room. We will let you know as soon as we find anything," Dumbledore said, before walking off with McGonnagal. Hermione suppressed the urge to run after them, and walked slowly back towards Gryffindor tower. She found Ron waiting for her, having heard that McGonnagal was in their room. With eyes wet from tears, Hermione sat on the couch next to him and relayed the contents of Harry's letter.
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Harry awoke with a start. He wasn't sure where he was, but wherever it was, it didn't look good. He noticed that he still wore his glasses; whoever had captured him was kind enough to place them on his face. He saw that he was in a small room that reminded him of the dungeons at Hogwarts. There was one door, and except for him, the room was completely empty. He also realized he was chained into a standing (or slouching) position. He tested the strength of the chains, knowing it would be pointless. Sure enough, they held fast. After a few minutes getting his bearings, the door opened, and Voldemort himself entered, followed by two robed Death Eaters.
"Ah! It seems Mr. Potter is finally awake!" Voldemort said, looking at Harry. "I'm sure you're curious as to why you're still alive, no?" he asked.
Harry looked at Voldemort defiantly, but said nothing.
Voldemort grinned. "Still the fighting type, eh Potter? Perhaps hoping that old fool Dumbledore will save the day?" he asked. Voldemort shook his head and drew a wand from his pocket. "Recognize this?" he asked, waving the wand in front of Harry. "It's your wand Potter, the brother to mine own. I cannot let that stand. Nothing about Lord Voldemort has any equal," Voldemort said, snapping the wand in half and dropping the pieces to the floor.
Harry looked with dismay at the pieces of the wand, knowing Colin would kill him for that, which he knew was a strange thing to think when face-to-face with Voldemort and your own death.
"And now Potter, as to why you're still alive," Voldemort said, breaking into Harry's thoughts. "In a couple days, we will attack Hogwarts castle. I have found a magical item that will allow me to bypass the wards protecting the castle; my Death Eaters will swarm Hogwarts. We shall capture the students and force the teachers to surrender! Then, Hogwarts will become the center of my empire and the symbol of the futility of resistance!" Voldemort cackled.
"And you, dear Mr. Potter, will be the symbol of their defeat. I shall place your dead body, impaled on a stake, in front of the castle. Then the world will know that no simple child could ever defeat Lord Voldemort!"
Harry stared at the Dark Lord in fear and began struggling against his bonds. Attack Hogwarts? He had to do something!
Voldemort only laughed as Harry struggled. "Since we wouldn't want you to be bored, I'll let my Death Eaters keep you company," Voldemort said, indicating the two men behind him. They had a cart between them, carrying various vicious looking implements. Voldemort grinned maliciously. "No simple Cruciatus for you, Mr. Potter. Oh no, we want to leave marks, something to strike fear into all who see you." Then he tapped Harry's glasses. "And we want to you see and anticipate everything being done."
With that said, Voldemort nodded to his Death Eaters, then left the room. Harry watched him go, and then turned his attention to the two men in front of him. One brandished a sinister looking knife, the other picked up what looked like a whip from the cart. Harry gulped and closed his eyes, bracing for what would come.