Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it (unless you happen to be in the group harrypottershortstories, or you happen to have read one of my other fics).
Culurieneldoreth, thank you for your advice. It is very good advice, and I do believe I'll be able to incorporate that into the second chapter. Just don't let me forget.
F75, thank you for taking the time to review, although the review itself didn't tell me much. I will try to get around to explaining about the dementor—eventually.
Warning: This chapter contains mush.
Again, the title of this chapter doesn't quite seem to fit it, but I like poetic titles so I used it. If someone could suggest a poetic title that fits it better, that would be very nice.
"Donovan Black has escaped from Azkaban," Dumbledore informed her gravely. His eyes still seemed flat, dark, dead, for still they did not twinkle as they had before the Dark Lord had taken over. "On a happier note, so have the Stormwinds." For a brief moment, his eyes sparkled, but then they went back to how they'd been before.
"More chocolate?" Katrina said hopefully.
"No, dear," Madam Pomfrey said. "You've had quite enough already."
"The Dark Lord's forces have laid siege to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said quietly. Dumbledore did not fear this Dark Lord any more than he had feared the last, but it was not wise even to think the name, lest one should say it. "Ron Weasley is in charge of our defenses."
Ron managed a weak grin. "It seems that being good at chess is good for something other than getting to the Philosopher's Stone."
"Please tell us how you escaped from Azkaban," Dumbledore requested.
She quickly outlined the story. As soon as she had finished, she began to feel cold. Green light, and screaming—
"Nissse boy," Deme's voice hissed. "Sssorry. Innosssent."
A haggard-looking young man stumbled into the room, and the chill began to recede. The stranger looked absolutely terrified. Stranger? He looked familiar. "Can I at least take a bath before you kill me?" he asked plaintively.
Kill him? Didn't Deme just say that he was innocent?
"Go take a bath," Parvati ordered as if it were her own idea. "If you don't, the fumes are liable to kill us."
The filthy stranger fled down the hall.
"What are your defensive plans, Ron?" Hermione asked.
"Well," he began, "At the moment Luna and Neville are trying to figure out some way to clear the Dark Lord's soldiers off the train tracks. We have about enough people in the school to guard the castle itself, but not to keep the Dark Lord's soldiers off the school grounds."
The Stormwinds, who had recovered much faster than Hermione, were huddled together to discuss something. Only a few phrases escaped their tight group.
"St. Mungo's...."
"...not recovering...."
St. Mungo's? Viktor and Malfoy were there, still showing no signs of recovery, unless something had changed since she was imprisoned.
"So the children can run errands," Ron was saying, "and the rest of us guard specific parts of the castle. Fred, George, Peeves, and the Stormwinds are working on new defensive spells. They're laying some nasty traps in the five secret passageways from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade." He paused a moment. He looked like he was about to cry. A single glistening tear shone in his eye. He blinked, and it was gone. "I wish Harry and Ginny were still alive," he whispered.
"Me too," Hermione said, putting a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Me too."
Ron nodded and took a deep breath. "They're also booby-trapping all the other tunnels leading out of the school, except the new one that Ernie and Susan Macmillan are working on." He looked so vulnerable. He was a young boy still in need of mothering, lost without a mother. Mrs. Weasley had died in the attack when Percy turned traitor. He had decided not to wait for power; he would seize it. He had tried to murder Fudge, but his parents tried to stop him, so he had killed them as well.
"What about the towers?" Hermione mused. "The Dark Lord's followers could fly up to the towers to get into the school."
"I already have that covered," Ron assured her. "I know how to play chess."
The reference to chess reminded her of the time he'd played against McGonagall's Transfigured chess set during their first year at Hogwarts. "Just don't sacrifice yourself, Ron dear," she told him. "I couldn't bear to live without you. I love you, Ron."
"Really? Do you mean it?" He looked like a child who had just been told that Christmas would come early that year.
"Of course I mean it, you ninny!" She smiled to take the sting out of the insult.
Suddenly he was kissing her, a deep, passionate kiss that left her gasping for air. She returned his embrace and kissed him back, opening her lips to let his tongue fill her mouth. If only I had a wand, she thought, I could produce the world's best Patronus. Of course the Dark Lord had taken her wand away and snapped it in half when he put her in Azkaban. At least Ron had gotten away. Donovan Black had told Ron to come with him to get help—or so he said—because the Dark Lord was going to attack the Potters. As soon as the two disappeared, the door flew open, revealing the Dark Lord himself. Harry and Ginny were murdered, and Hermione was taken prisoner. While in prison, she had gotten her news from the prisoners brought in after her.
The kiss ended, and they broke away. His hand found hers. side by side they sat, holding hands.
The hauntingly familiar stranger appeared in the doorway, looking at everyone nervously. He looked halfway decent now that he'd scraped off that inch-thick coat of grime, and much more familiar. She could almost put her finger on where she'd seen him.
Dead silence, then a bang as the door was flung open. There he stood, looking terrified—
Then it his her: "Donovan Black."
Right, in case you don't know, I don't like romance too much, and I despise mush. My idea of a good romance is that the goy meets the girl, they fall in love, and they get married and have kids. But since this story is also an angst story (in contrast with my usual happy humor fics where the main characters can't die), I decided that I could try some mush and see how it turned out. It's already unlike my usual stories, so why not make it more unusual? Anyways, I discovered that if I take a deep breath and type really fast I could get through the mush part without giving in to the urge to scream.
Please review. I need some suggestions for romance. Who knows, I might even use your suggestions.