Well, It's nice to see such wide opinions of this story, whether those opinions are good or bad. As for how I can get out so much every day … well that's only because I have a large portion of this story on disk already. I started it a year ago, and am still writing it to this day. Anyway, keep up the reviews … I enjoy reading them. (And remember … what you're reading can't be altered at all, so don't suggest anything you want done or seen.)
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After recovering from his shock, Harry's face broke out into a grin as he saw Ron standing there; however his smile faded as he took in Ron's anxious expression and breathlessness, as though he'd been running for some time.
"Ron! What's going on? What's happened?" he asked, stepping forward and out of Ginny's arms. "Sit down and have a breather … c'mon, c'mon…" Harry gestured for Ron to sit in the chair, but all he did was shake his head, while clutching at his side.
"Has Hermione come up here since I was here last?" panted Ron, looking past Harry at Hank, who was frowning in mild concern.
"No, I haven't seen her since a while before then. Why?"
Ron groaned and sat, still trying to catch his breath. "I've looked everywhere I can think of, and I can't find her anywhere! She wasn't even in the library, or in Gryffindor Tower…"
"How 'bout the lake?" Ginny added hopefully, slumping her shoulders when Ron shook his head.
"I just came from there, and she wasn't in the Great Hall either. I checked it on my way back up here…"
"What about the Owlrey?" asked Harry hurriedly. "Did you go there?"
"But, she doesn't have an owl," Ron began, looking perplexed. "Why would she go up there?"
"You never know?" Hank interjected, beginning to stand. "When you so elegantly entered Mr Weasley, did you by any chance see if Mr Malfoy was awake yet?"
Ron scowled darkly and nodded. "Oh yeah … He's very much awake, and he's looking a lot more sure of himself for some reason too. When I came in he was reading something with a big grin on his face, but he shoved it out of sight fast enough…"
"Hmmm … Well as much as I'd like to know what was making him so happy, our first priority is finding Miss Granger," said Hank, striding toward the door. "I'm going to go and look for her in the Owlrey … you three stay here, and I'll come back before classes start and escort you past our Slytherin friend…"
Without a backward glance or waiting for a response, Hank walked out the open door and shut it behind him, leaving the three students speechless.
"Hey wait!!" shouted Ron, coming to his senses and leaping out of the chair. He grasped the handle, and let out a vehement exclamation when he found it to be locked; striking the doorjamb with the palm of his hand in frustration. "Fine then! Don't ask if anyone else want's to help look for her!" he continued in a raised voice, directing his focus on the door as though Hank was still standing there. He struck the door again, before spinning on the spot and starting to pace the length of the room, muttering under his breath.
Harry eyed Ron warily, casting an edgy glance at Ginny, who looked equally concerned. She spotted his sidelong glance and merely shrugged and shook her head in response, signifying that she didn't know what the problem was either.
Deciding that it was best to leave Ron alone, Harry made his way over to the bed and sat on the edge, going over what Hank had informed both him and Ginny, in his head. He sighed in wonderment as what was said began to sink in properly. He pondered how on earth it was possible, that the wizarding worlds government, was nothing more than an ages old battleground, where the war was still raging around them, but no one knew it.
"What's up?" asked Ginny as she took a seat next to him, studying him intently.
"Oh nothing," he answered, flashing a smile in her direction. Seeing that she wasn't believing him for a second, Harry sighed and elaborated. "I was just thinking about what Hank told us … You know, about what's really happening in the MoM…"
Ginny rested a hand atop his and smiled at him reassuringly. "Don't think about it then … Just be happy that you know what's going on. At least Hank doesn't keep you in the dark about everything."
Harry thought of this comment for a moment, before nodding at Ginny. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. I hope he can find Hermione though," he added nervously. "I hope she's OK…"
"Don't worry," said Ginny soothingly. "I'm sure she's fine…"
The rest of lunch passed uneventfully. Ron was pacing the room and muttering under his breath the whole time, totally oblivious to anything; while Ginny and Harry just made small talk; casting furtive glances toward Ron every now and then.
"What's he all worked up for anyway?" Harry had asked, growing tired of Ron's yoyo motion. "Why can't he just sit and wait for Hank to come back? I mean, I hope that Hermione's all right as well, but it's no reason to be like this, all because he didn't get to go with him to look for her…"
He looked down at Ginny in time to see her roll her eyes and grin up at him.
"Please Harry … Isn't it obvious?" she chastised playfully, still smiling at him. When he shot her a blank look, Ginny shook her head before resting it on his shoulder, saying, "Never mind."
Harry shot her a quizzical look, that she couldn't see, then shrugged inwardly and went back to the dull entertainment that Ron provided; only then seeing the insane worry that was brimming in his eyes. Harry frowned and studied his face, noticing how Ron bore several emotions that were all muddled together. He couldn't tell if he looked anxious, nervous, fearful, angry, sad or panicked. His fiery hair was sticking up from the numerous times he'd run his hand threw his hair in anxiety, and he was chewing his lip in frustration. Harry sighed as he wondered what could be causing such stress in Ron, but didn't get to think about it as the door suddenly unlocked and opened.
Harry and Ginny looked over, while Ron stopped his trench-making, and swivelled to face whoever opened the door.
"Oh! You're back to normal!" Poppy exclaimed in surprise, staring at Harry. "Good to see … Now, Hank told me to come and tell you to return to your classes, if he hadn't returned by the time they were due to start … so, Mr Potter, you will obviously be staying, but Miss and Mr Weasley will have to leave…"
"Did he say anything about Hermione?" Ron interrupted hurriedly, looking as though he was on the verge of nervous breakdown.
Poppy gave him a blank stare. "Why would he?" she answered. "He told me this as he left earlier on … I haven't seen him since then. Now, if you and your sister would go to class please?" she finished sternly, stepping to the side, leaving the door clear.
"What about Malfoy?" asked Ginny. "Isn't he awake?"
"I've just released him," said Poppy strictly. "There's no one here to see you leave … Now, if you please?"
Ron scowled darkly before snatching up his bag and swinging it over his shoulder. Mumbling something to himself, he stormed from the room, without a second glance at Harry and Ginny; both of whom were looking mildly hurt. Ginny, because Ron didn't wait for her, and Harry because he didn't say so much as boo to him.
"I'll see you later too," Harry remarked glumly, as he turned his gaze to the floor, and rested his chin in his hands.
"He's only worried about Hermione," Ginny reasoned, as she attempted to relieve Harry's injured feelings. "Please don't take it to heart…"
"No, it's OK," said Harry, smiling at Ginny reassuringly. "I understand … It just seems so out of character for him, that's all. He's usually always complaining about her and everything … so, seeing him so worried over her just seems strange…"
"Well, look at it this way then," Ginny began, taking his hand in hers. "If someone you cared about had gone missing, and you didn't know where they could possibly be, or even if they were all right … would you be sitting down and doing nothing?"
"Course not!" answered Harry immediately. "I would be out looking for them, or at the very least, do what Ron … was … doing…" Harry trailed off as he just realized what Ginny had been hinting at. Disbelievingly, he turned to face her, only to see her grinning back at him and nodding her head.
"Honestly Harry," she said as she stood and retrieved her bag. "Could you be any slower?"
Ginny giggled as Harry feigned injury and pouted, before allowing his face to break out into a grin. "I'm gonna tease him like never before!" he laughed.
"Don't you dare!" Ginny pointed her finger at him sternly, though she was still grinning madly. "Don't forget, that he's my big brother … and you need to make a good impression," she added swiftly, looking away and blushing.
"No arguments there," replied Harry softly, smiling warmly at her.
Ginny blushed even deeper and bit her lip. "I'll see you before dinner," she stammered, before flashing him a quick smile, and darting past Madame Pomfrey; who had remained silent for the conversation.
"Bye!" called Harry, hearing Ginny exit the hallway and yell another farewell as she dashed up the ward. He turned back to Poppy, smiling, before asking, "You wouldn't have anything you needed done would you? Because it's really boring, just sitting in here doing nothing…"……
Hank grimaced as he tried to search the school with his mind again, hoping that he might sense something on Hermione this time. He was growing nervous, for he hadn't been able to find her mind inside the school, meaning one of three things. She wasn't in the school; she was unconscious; or she was dead. Hank sighed as, yet again, he couldn't find her. He had dashed up to the Owlrey as Harry had suggested, but had found no trace of Hermione up there.
Hank was currently on his way to see Dumbledore, intent on informing him of Hermione's apparent disappearance; and informing him about the discussion that the two of them had had. Hank grimaced again as their conversation replayed through his mind. It most certainly hadn't gone well, and it was probable that he was the last one to see her, before she vanished.
Hank stopped as he reached the stone gargoyle, and attempted to find Hermione one last time. Once again finding nothing, Hank sighed in frustration and rested his head upon that of the gargoyle, feeling his worry grow considerably. It was partially his own doing, that Hermione was missing, for he'd taken her comments to heart; even though he knew that she didn't know any differently; and had walked away, leaving her by herself.
Hank knocked his head against the stone lightly, vowing to find her by the end of the day. She was one of the students at Albus's school, and as such, was his responsibility. But more importantly, she was one of Harry's closest friends … and he refused to play any part in his getting hurt in any way, ever again.
Sighing heavily and shaking the memories of that life-altering night from his mind, Hank gathered himself and said the password; stepping onto the moving staircase that led to Albus's office. He knocked and waited for a response, before opening the door and venturing inside.
"Hank!" exclaimed Albus, clearly surprised by his arrival. "To what do I owe the honour?" he added playfully, as he placed a bundle of parchment in a drawer.
"I have something of great importance to tell you," Hank replied in a strained voice, taking a few steps toward Dumbledore. "It concerns Miss Granger…"
Dumbledore gazed at him intently. "What about her…?" he asked slowly.
"Well, just after the ceremony finished, Mr Weasley came into Harry's room, saying that he'd been unable to find Miss Granger in all the usual places … so I assumed the task and began to search for her … but I can't find her anywhere!"
Dumbledore's eyes widened in concern, and he slowly rose from his chair. "When you say you can't find her … do you mean, you can't find her? Or, you can't find her…?" he gestured to his head for the last statement…
"I can't find her!" Hank confirmed, pointing to his head also. "She's nowhere on the grounds … and if she is on the grounds, then I can guarantee that she's not in the best of health…"
"Where did Mr Weasley search before he came to you?"
Hank paused. "The Library, the lake, the common room … and the Great Hall."
"What about you?" said Albus. "Where did you look, before you browsed the grounds?"
"I went up to the Owlery, after Harry suggested it. When I couldn't find her, I came straight here."
"Why was she off on her own?" asked Albus, frowning in thought. "I would have thought that she would have been with Harry?"
Hank looked at the floor and scuffed at it with his bare feet. "That would be my fault…" he said sombrely.
"How so?" said Albus, after a brief pause.
Hank fidgeted nervously for a few moments, before steeling himself and looking at Dumbledore's curious expression. "Well, you see … I met up with her, just before she was about to go up to Harry. I could hear her thoughts, during lunch, and wanted to talk with her about the discussion she'd had with Ronald and Ginny. We walked a way's, when she figured out that I'd been reading her thoughts since we left the Hall…"
"That was careless of you…" said Dumbledore, with a hint of amusement.
Hank nodded his agreement. "True, I was quite unprepared for her perceptiveness … and she got rather shirty with me over it … she was very against my use of my magic, and was beginning to think that it was changing the way I behaved … But then I did something rather rash…" he paused.
"And that would be…?" Dumbledore pressed when Hank didn't continue.
Hank still didn't answer and was looking extremely sheepish. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, before looking Albus in the eye, and saying, "I told her that I was a Felanade."
Whatever Dumbledore was expecting to hear, that wasn't it. He let his jaw drop as he stared at Hank, absolutely flabbergasted. "You what!?" he sputtered, once he regained the use of his vocal chords.
"I told her — "
"I heard what you said!" Dumbledore cut him off sharply, looking between utterly bewildered, and seething with fury. "What on earth were you thinking!? Did you lose your brain in the hallways somewhere!? You knew that she held no trust for your kind since the day Harry got back! Why would she be the first one you told!?"
Hank held Dumbledore's gaze for the duration, determined to keep his composure under his tirade.
"I told her, in the hopes that she would be able to accept my kind as her friends had," Hank explained evenly, when Dumbledore had settled down a touch. "She trusted me, as me … so by telling her, I hoped she would've been able to look past what I was, and realize that I was still her professor … the same one she's had since the start of term, and got along rather well with. It seems I was wrong, with that thought…"
"You realize that she only had what she's read, to go by…" said Dumbledore, now much calmer then he was, and stared at Hank sadly. "She reads everything she can get her hands on, and all she's read about Felines, is the exact opposite of what you are. She'll start to see clearer, the more time she spends with you…"
"Which is why I have to be the one to find her!" said Hank desperately. "I want her to know that I'm not a bloodthirsty cannibal, that would kill her at a moments notice … I want to prove that we're not what she thinks…"
Dumbledore nodded. "I understand Hank … I'm just surprised that you took it so personally. Usually you wouldn't care so much … but that can wait. Our first priority is locating Miss Granger … How exactly were you searching for her before?" asked Dumbledore, peering at Hank. "Were you looking specifically for Miss Granger's mind?"
Hank nodded. "That's how I know she's not in a good position. She's either gone from the grounds entirely, or she's no longer conscious."
"I hope that's not the case," said Dumbledore gravely, shaking his head. "Well, how about you try this … Open your mind to everything in the school, and try to find anyone thinking profusely on something similar. Something that they normally wouldn't be thinking about, and such…"
Hank raised his eyebrows and sighed. "Well, I could most certainly try…" he stated, as he took a relaxed position and shut his eyes, and opened his mind … letting the surface thoughts of everyone in the school enter his mind, trying to find any that were unduly focused on the same thing…
He didn't know how long he stood there, hearing all sorts of things fly through his mind … when suddenly, he caught wind of about four or five thoughts, from different minds, all centring on one room on the second floor. Feeling that this was the only thing he had to go on, he focused on the random thoughts with more precision; gasping audibly as they came through with more detail. Someone was inside a room on the second floor … and they weren't in good condition…
"What is it?" said Dumbledore, hearing Hank's sharp intake of air. He stood from his chair and approached him, as he opened his eyes, looking frantic.
"I may have found something," was all Hank said, before turning into light and vanishing. Dumbledore stared at the spot where Hank was, moments beforehand, before shaking his head saying, "I hate it when he does that!"……
Hank materialized in the deserted halls of the second floor, knowing it was safe to Orb, seeing how classes had resumed not long ago. Getting his bearings, Hank began to open every door he came to; whether they were locked, occupied or deserted. He didn't care at the moment. Gradually, Hank made his way to a more secluded area of the floor, where a lot of empty classrooms where situated, growing more anxious as the minutes ticked by.
"This is taking too long," Hank growled in frustration, staring down the long corridor, filled with doors. Knowing that Dumbledore would want words with him for what he was about to do, Hank decided to do it properly. No sense getting in trouble, if you weren't going to do a good job of it.
Shutting his eyes, Hank took several deep breaths, focusing his energy to accomplish a certain task. He felt the familiar surge of electricity flow through him as he summoned his power, balling it up; concentrating it to a more forceful intensity.
Hank snapped his eyes open. The instant he did so, he released the energy within, feeling his hair fly backward as the air rippled with it's lightning fast speed. A great gushing sound would have been heard, had it not been for every door down the corridor, and every corridor attached to it, being splintered and reduced to nothing, the instant the wave of energy touched it.
Not even waiting for the sound of breaking wood to vanish, Hank began to run along the corridor, peering into each room, looking for any sign of Hermione. He sprinted along hallway after hallway, not once did he spot anything through the settling dust.
Hank forced his breathing to steady as he rounded the last corner, entering the last hallway on the floor. He knew that Hermione was in one of these rooms, for she wasn't in any of the others. He strode swiftly, looking in each room as he came to it's door, before moving on to the next.
He glanced into one of the rooms near the end of the hall, and felt his throat tighten. Sitting on a chair, in the middle of the room was Hermione; her head bowed, and utterly motionless. Feeling his heart beat quicken, Hank dashed forward; catching his balance as he slipped on something on the floor. Looking down quickly, Hank felt horror wash over him as he recognised a trail of blood, stemming from where Hermione sat. He hurried over to her and knelt in front; holding in the tears that were threatening to spill at the sight that greeted him.
Hermione was a pasty white colour, and didn't seem to be breathing. She had several large gashes on her arms and legs, but none as bad as the one on her neck. The robes beneath it were saturated with dry and fresh blood, and the trail on the floor was dripping from the wounds on her arms and legs.
Hank hastily undid the bonds holding Hermione in her chair with trembling fingers, praying that he wasn't too late to save her. She fell to the side as she was released, and fell into Hanks arms limply. He gently turned her onto her back and cradled her in his lap, as he placed his fingers on her neck, trying to find a pulse.
There was none.
"No no no no no," Hank whispered, shaking his head as he stared down at Hermione's still frame. Thinking quickly, he lay her down on the floor and placed his hands upon her chest. He'd seen it work in the Muggle world, so there was no reason to think that it wouldn't work here. Hank took a deep breath and shot a jolt of electricity from his hands, into Hermione. The force of it was enough to lift her several inches from the cool stone beneath her. He hastily checked for a pulse again, becoming resolute when he still found none.
Hank repeated the process several times; feeling his hope fade as Hermione's heart still refused to beat. Hank grit his teeth, steeling himself for what he'd decided to do. He knew that it would cause her more harm … but it was more than likely her only chance.
Hank breathed in deeply, more to settle himself down than to focus, for he knew that if this didn't work … she was gone forever. Shaking the thought from his mind, Hank focused himself again, determined to make it work. Slowly, he built up another charge … but this time he added a fragment of his own energy into it; permanently giving up a piece of his own life, in order to provide her with the energy she needed to keep her heart beating.
Hank winced as he released the charge, feeling some of his life leave him. The jolt was enough to make Hermione sit upright, and Hank only just managed to catch her before her head hit the ground, as he now felt extremely sluggish and tired. Grimacing at the scent of burnt flesh, and with shaking hands, Hank placed his fingers upon Hermione's neck, holding his breath…
He laughed out loud as a wave of happiness washed over him, for he could feel Hermione's heart beating, but it was extremely faint and weak. Leaning down, he held his ear near her mouth; a smile cracking his features as he felt her shallow breathing against his skin.
Wasting no more time, he placed one hand upon Hermione's forehead, and rested the other across her stomach, drawing energy from the air around him and altering it to his needs. As his hands began to glow, he let his tears flow freely, knowing that she would live.
He sat with Hermione for some time, seeing the wounds and bruising slowly fade, yet determined to heal her completely, no matter how much of his own energy it cost. He knew that he wouldn't be able to heal the burns on her chest, for they'd been caused by his own brand of magic … but he was content with the knowledge that he had saved her life.
Hank sighed as the last of the wounds closed. Even though he was kneeling on his feet, Hank still swayed slightly; the exhaustion from healing starting to affect him profusely. Breathing heavily, and feeling sweat from his forehead running down his face, Hank looked down to see that Hermione was still unconscious … but her colour was returning, and her breathing was back to normal. Determined to fix her completely, Hank lifted her, and cradled her against his chest. He raised a hand again, and rested it against Hermione's cheek, and closed his eyes as he now began to heal the shock to her body.
A few minutes later, Hank opened his eyes wearily as he heard Hermione groan. She blinked her eyes a few times to get them focused and began to stir. Hank smiled weakly as she turned her eyes toward his hand, obviously drawn by the glow of his healing, in time to see it fading.
"How do you feel?" Hank asked, surprising himself by how worn out he sounded. Hermione turned toward his voice, startled by the sudden sound. For a moment, Hank was worried that she would shy away from him, and try to escape his arms … but he was pleasantly surprised when Hermione smiled warmly up at him, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Thank you," she whispered hoarsely, not even flinching when Hank returned the embrace.
Hank smiled as he realized that Hermione no longer feared him, and returned her gesture without hesitation. "You're welcome," he answered, unable to conceal the weariness and exhaustion from his deep voice.
Hermione drew back, and studied Hank intently. "What's wrong?" she asked, concern filling her features. "Why are you so tired?" She lifted her hand gingerly, and wiped away a stray tear, before staring into his eyes. "These weren't over me, were they?" she asked awkwardly.
Hank smiled at her reassuringly. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "But you still need to go to the Hospital Wing and have those burns seen too… so I'll take you there now…"
"Don't be ridiculous!" gasped Hermione. "You can barely keep your eyes open, let alone walk me to the Hospital Wing … Anyway … I think you need to go there much more than I do … Mine doesn't even hurt that much…"
Hank chuckled as he gently lifted Hermione from him, placing her on her feet, and made an effort to stand. Hermione immediately grasped him under the arm and tried to help, with little success, due to his size compared to her. Hank made it to his feet, and swayed dangerously, smiling down at Hermione in thanks, as she let him lean on her for support and placed a steadying arm around his middle.
"You forget, that I don't have to walk everywhere…" said Hank thickly, knowing that he shouldn't do what he was about to do; but deciding to do it none the less. Without waiting for Hermione to question what he'd meant, Hank drew on the energy around him once again, and felt himself and Hermione become one with the air; illuminating the room with the brilliant display of lights, that accompanied Orbing……
Ron was the last one to arrive at Defence Against the Dark Arts, due to his being with Harry in the Hospital Wing. As the door came into view, Ron grimaced. Class had already been let in. Running up to the door, Ron opened it and gingerly poked his head inside, seeing most of the class and Remus turn to face him.
"Ah, Mr Weasley!" called Remus. "Good of you to join us! You wouldn't happen to know where Miss Granger is, would you?" he added, raising his eyebrows as Ron scowled and shook his head, as he entered the classroom.
"Sorry Professor," said Ron, taking his seat. "I haven't seen her since about halfway through lunch…"
Remus gazed at Ron pensively for a moment, as though he knew he wasn't telling him everything; before nodding and returning to the class.
As Remus began to tell them what that days lesson was going to involve, Ron kept glancing sideways to the vacant space next to him, where Hermione usually sat. It was making him nervous, for the last time Hermione had skipped a lesson, something horrible had occurred. It was when Harry had thrown himself from Gryffindor Tower … and although Hank was now looking for her, it didn't reassure him in the slightest.
Remus had only just begun to write on the blackboard, when suddenly – what sounded like an explosion – ripped through the hallways below them.
Although it informed absolutely no one of anything, most of the class were either staring at each other in shock, or looking at the floor, as though they could see through it; breaking out into chatter.
"What in the blazes…?" Remus exclaimed, mimicking some of his students and gazing at the floor. "Nobody move!" he said sternly, making his way toward the doorway. "Everyone is to remain here, until I return! Understood?" He glanced around the students and nodded when they all agreed; shutting the door behind him as he left.
Remus strode briskly through the corridors, waving teachers back to their classes if they poked their heads out of their rooms. He practically jumped down the first flight of stairs he came too and looked around to see if this was the place the noise had originated from. Seeing everything was intact, he assumed that it was the second floor; which was the next floor down. As he made his way there, he could see that some of the teachers were doing exactly the same thing he was, and were making their way towards the sound of the blast.
Just as he was heading down a flight of stairs, he met Minerva, who was on her way up them.
"Minerva, do you know what happened?" said Remus, holding his arm up to stop her from passing him. "We heard something that sounded like an explosion – "
"It may as well have been," Minerva answered grimly. "Every single door on the floor has been blown to dust. Nothing else was touched!"
Remus frowned. "Are you sure?"
Minerva nodded, "I was about to tell Albus about it. He might have an idea as to what it was…"
"Oh, by all means," Remus replied, stepping aside. "I'll just take a look though … this I've got to see…" he grinned, resulting in Minerva shaking her head exasperatedly, and continuing up to see Dumbledore. Chuckling to himself, Remus continued down the stairs … and came to an abrupt halt at what befell his eyes.
Splintered wood lay everywhere, a mist of sorts still hanging in the air from all the dust. Remus gaped, glancing up and down the hall, seeing that what Minerva had said was in fact true. Not one door had been spared, yet nothing else had gotten so much as a scratch.
Remus slowly made his way along the corridor, stepping around the wood where he could, and turned the corner; meeting a replica of the hall he'd just vacated. People – students and teachers alike – where milling around, stunned. Those that were most shocked, where those that happened to be in one of the rooms, when the door exploded on them. Most of whom were students.
Remus continued to roam absently, not really paying attention to where he was going. Suddenly, a flash of light caught his eye, emanating from one of the rooms at the other end of the hall. Frowning, he cautiously edged his way toward it, hearing soft voices drift down to him in the silence. They both sounded familiar…
He paused for an instant before peeking around the doorjamb, feeling his eyes widen as he saw the familiar light particles that signified Orbing, vanish from the room. Remus scratched his head in puzzlement, as he wondered why on earth Hank would've been down here, when what was in the room brought him crashing back down to reality.
Remus gasped as his eyes met the trail of blood that was staining the floor; smeared in an area, as though something had passed through it. Next to a chair, where a good portion of the blood lay, was a couple of pieces of rope; both of which also had bloodstains on them. Holding a hand to his mouth in horror … Remus came to the conclusion that Hank must've found whoever was in here, and Orbed them to the Hospital Wing. Judging by the amount of blood on the floor, they would have been in a critical condition.
It was now that Remus was faced with a moral dilemma. Did he go back and continue to teach his class? Did he go and tell Dumbledore about what he'd just found? Or did he go to the Hospital Wing, and find out who the poor soul was first?
Deciding on the latter, Remus quickly made his way toward the Ward; stopping in on his class to say that they were being let out incredibly early. No one objected, but Remus noticed Ron follow him, keeping just out of sight.
"You can come out now Ron!" called Remus, when they got to a deserted corridor. He gave him a stern stare, as he sheepishly came out from behind the wall. "I don't think it would be a good idea for you to be around this time," Remus explained.
Ron walked up to him, and looked defiant. "What happened?" he asked shortly. "Did you see Hermione anywhere?"
Remus sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "No Ron, I didn't see Hermione anywhere … As for what happened? I'm not sure … but I did see Hank take someone to the Hospital Wing…" he wasn't lying, but he wasn't about to tell Ron what he'd seen on the room. Ron, however, paled at the news that Hank had taken someone up to the Ward.
"H … Hank took someone to the Ward?" Ron repeated, wide-eyed.
"Yes, I believe so," said Remus, frowning in concern at Ron's behaviour. "Why?"
Ron ran his hand through his hair and looked frantic. "Because Hank was looking for Hermione during lunch!"
"What?"
"I couldn't find her anywhere, and I told him … so he took up the search himself, and told us he'd come back just before classes started up again. He didn't come back! He told Madame Pomfrey to get us if he wasn't back in time…"
Remus's concern grew, but he kept it too himself, seeing how Ron was on the verge of panicking. "Calm down Ron, Hank could've taken anyone to the Ward … especially after I saw the state of the second floor…"
"But it could've been Hermione too!" exclaimed Ron, raising his voice. "C'mon, we have to get to the Hospital Wing!" he said hurriedly, beginning to dash down the hall.
Remus opened his mouth several times to protest his going, but Ron had already turned the corner. Sighing and shaking his head, Remus began to follow Ron; hoping that whoever was tied to that chair, was anyone but Hermione………
Harry held his nose, as he helped Madame Pomfrey bottle a new batch of Bobotuber Pus. Both of them were currently in the back storeroom, further down the hallway where Harry's room was located. Harry, for his part, was quite fascinated with the room. He'd never seen so many medicinal herbs, potions and ointments in his life.
"Why does it have to smell so bad?" he whined, in a nasal voice, since his nose was pinched together.
"Now, now Mr Potter," said Poppy, smirking faintly. "If I recall correctly, you're the one that wished to be kept occupied before you go down to dinner tonight, were you not?"
"Yes ma'am," sighed Harry, as he corked the bottle he was filling. "I was."
Poppy grinned, but kept it hidden. After all the times Harry had found himself in her care, she had grown quite fond of him. She sighed inaudibly as she felt a twinge of pity toward him. True, she liked him, but it was a pity that he usually only saw her, after he'd come an inch or two away from getting killed. She would be quite happy, if he never had to make another visit to her Ward … but she knew that that was almost impossible in his case.
"Madame Pomfrey?" Harry began, drawing her from her thoughts.
"Yes Mr Potter," she answered, corking her own bottle and glancing at him.
"Um … I was wondering if Malfoy got a punishment for sneaking down to my room the other day?"
Harry hoped that he'd sounded off-handed, but by the way Poppy was looking at him, he knew that it hadn't worked very well.
"Why do you want to know?" she replied evasively, grabbing another bottle to fill.
Harry groaned inwardly. He didn't want to whinge to the Matron, and something told him that she wouldn't sympathize with his thoughts that Malfoy always got away with everything he did. "No reason," he sighed. "Don't worry about it."
Poppy raised an eyebrow, as she studied Harry's expression. He was looking rather sullen about something. "Would you be satisfied if I told you, yes … he did get a punishment … but didn't tell you what it was…?"
"I s'pose that's the best offer I'm gonna get?" Harry grinned, feeling his spirits lift minutely. He figured, by Poppy's answer, that Malfoy's punishment was by far too lenient for what he'd done; so he decided to leave it at knowing he'd at least been punished.
Poppy smiled and was about to say yes, when a loud crash was heard in the main ward, followed by a female voice calling for her. She glanced at Harry, who'd also heard it, and both of them stopped what they were doing and hurried out the storeroom. Harry stopped, just inside the door, and peered around the corner as Poppy rushed toward two figures on the floor. Apparently they'd knocked over a table of trays.
Harry stepped into the ward when he heard Poppy exclaim two names that he knew very well, and he wondered why they were there. He saw Poppy crouching over someone and hurried over, his jaw dropping at what he saw.
Hank was laying unconscious on the floor, his skin pale and clammy, but what Harry found disturbing was the bloodstains he had on his clothes. Harry turned to speak to Poppy, when his eyes fell on Hermione, making his chest tighten. There was blood all over her, soaked into her robes and drying on her skin; yet he couldn't spot any wounds to cause it all.
"… I'll be looking you over in a moment, Miss Granger," Poppy was saying hurriedly. "But I need to see to Hank first … I'm not even going to bother asking how he got like this, for that is quite obvious," she muttered, eyeing Hermione off concernedly.
"How did he get like that?" said Harry urgently, kneeling down by Hermione and glancing at Hank. "And what happened to you!?" he added, turning to Hermione. "Are you all right?" He stared at the drying blood on her neck and legs, and the tattered state of her robes. It looked as though she'd had wounds, but they were no longer there, leaving the blood where it was. "Please tell me that this isn't yours!" he whispered, gently turning her head and staring into her eyes, as he wiped some of the blood from her neck.
Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by Poppy.
"Mr Potter, you really shouldn't be out here. What if someone was to just barge through the doors?"
"I don't care," Harry answered shortly, shaking his head. "I want to know what happened! I mean, look at her!" he waved his hand at all the bloodstains. "It looks as if she should have been dead!"
At this, Harry saw Hermione and Poppy exchange a knowing glance, and he frowned at the both of them. "What?" he asked slowly, still turning his gaze from one to the other.
Hermione dropped her gaze, and was looking quite distraught about something. "If it wasn't for Hank, I would be…" she said in barely more than a whisper, her voice wavering slightly. She looked down at Hank's unconscious form and began to blink furiously, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. "Will – will he be OK?" she asked softly, glancing at Poppy before looking at her hands.
Poppy gave Hermione a reassuring smile, as she stood and levitated Hank onto a bed. "Yes, he will recover. It will be some time before he's back to his normal self though. What he did with you, was extremely taxing on him … and just so you know the significance of what he did … in all the years I've known him, I've only ever known him to attempt an Infusion … once." Poppy gave Hermione a very pointed look, before returning her attention to Hank.
"Who was it on?" asked Hermione timidly, starting to get to her feet; Harry assisting her.
Poppy seemed to hesitate for a moment before turning to look at the both of them. "Although I shouldn't be the one to tell you about it … It was his brother. And no, it didn't work…" she added, knowing that that was the question on their minds.
"He watched his own brother die?" Hermione looked at Hank forlornly, not able to imagine how it must have felt for him.
Poppy nodded sadly. "In his arms…"
Harry watched the exchange intently. Whatever this 'Infusion' thing was, it sounded shifty … and the fact that it had been performed on Hermione, was making him anxious.
"Um … Excuse me, but … What's an Infusion?" Harry spoke up in the silence following Poppy's statement.
Poppy sighed as she finished getting Hank settled, and Hermione shut her eyes after trudging over to the bed beside Hank's and sitting down.
"Are you sure you want to know?" asked Poppy, eyeing Harry off searchingly. Harry nodded.
"Yes I do. Whatever it was, it was done to Hermione … and you just said that the last person he did it on, died! I need to know what it is…"
"Well … all right," said Poppy, pausing as she gathered her thoughts. "An Infusion, is not as sinister as you're thinking Harry. In fact, it's probably the greatest gift anyone could give too another. It's a Felanade procedure, where one sacrifices some of their own life, and passes it on to another, in the hopes that whoever the recipient is will live. This is very much, a last resort for anyone to use … and if it doesn't work the first time, then nothing can save them…"
Poppy trailed off, but Harry barely noticed. He was staring at Hermione in horror, now knowing just how close she'd been to dying. Hermione gazed back at him and must've seen the fear of what might have been, lingering in his eyes, for she slid off the bed and walked up to him; wrapping her arms around his waist reassuringly, resting her head on his shoulder as he returned the embrace.
"It's OK Harry," she said soothingly. "I'm all right … There's nothing to worry about…"
"Who did it?" said Harry, forcing his voice to remain steady, but failing to keep the stony edge out of it. "Who tried to kill you?"
"I don't know," she replied, pulling back slightly and looking at him. "I can't remember. But I don't think it was meant to be this bad … I only remember being asked where Malfoy was, and I wouldn't tell them he was in here, because then they'd find out that Hank was the one that put him here … so they started to curse me…"
"Whoever it was, had the intention of killing you!" Harry exclaimed. "If you took a look at yourself and saw just how bad they injured you, you would see that! No one would do this, and leave with the idea that you would live…"
"I don't need to look in a mirror, Harry," said Hermione quietly, dropping her gaze. "I remember everything they did…" She brought a hand up and wiped away the tear that fell from her eye at the memories … the pain…
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up," Harry apologized. "You shouldn't have to relive it … I know how hard it is…"
Hermione smiled at him gratefully, as Poppy called out to her.
"Miss Granger, I need to check you over now," she called, setting up the screens around a bed. "I suspect that you've acquired a number of burns, yes?"
Hermione glanced up at Harry, and saw a questioning expression on his face. Sighing, she turned back to Poppy and stepped out of Harry's arms, saying, "Yes ma'am…"
Poppy nodded and began to gather some ointments, as Hermione made her way over to the bed; stopping as Harry called out to her.
"Hold on! How'd you get them? And I thought Hank healed you?"
"I know that you're concerned about Miss Granger," Poppy interjected, waiting by the screens. "But we'll answer your questions about this, after I've tended to her injuries." She motioned to Hermione, who hesitated for a moment, before giving Harry an apologetic wave and continuing toward the bed.
Hermione gave Harry one last glance, just as Poppy closed the screens around them. She smiled inwardly at the worry in his eyes; extremely appreciative of his concern on her behalf, but also feeling a little guilty, for it meant another weight on his shoulders that he most certainly didn't need.
"You'll need to get cleaned up first," said Poppy, drawing Hermione from her thoughts. She handed her a spare set of clothes and gestured to a large bowl full of water, and sponge. "I'll be back in a few minutes," said Poppy, smiling reassuringly at her before leaving her alone.
Hermione sighed, and began to get changed; making sure to get rid of the dry blood on her as she went. As much as she hated being in the hospital wing, Hermione was happy that she didn't see it as often as Harry did. So far, he'd spent some of every single day at Hogwarts … in the Ward. And for the past five nights it had been his home. She shook her head, almost shamefully. She shouldn't be whinging about anything at present, and be thankful that she was even alive.
At this, her thoughts drifted to Hanks unconscious form, and she really did hang her head in shame. Even after all the insulting things she'd said to him earlier, he still saw it fit to share some of his own life's energy with her, and heal all her injuries. She sighed as she finally admitted, that everyone else had been right, and she had been wrong. Hank – even though he was a Felanade – was most definitely not, in any fashion, what the books say he should be. He was almost the exact opposite. The only thing the book said that was minutely correct, was it's reference to the amount of power they wield.
Hermione set her jaw, resolute. She was going to make it up to Hank, one way or another. Not only had she insulted him horribly … but she also owed him her life. ………
Harry heaved a sigh as Hermione vanished behind the screens. He desperately wanted to know where she'd acquired these so called burns, but he would obviously have to wait. Harry glanced over at Hank, and decided to wait for him to wake; hoping that he would tell him something useful. Harry sighed again, taking a seat on the bed beside Hank, as Poppy re-emerged from the screens; shutting them firmly behind her.
Knowing that the Matron wasn't finished tending to Hermione, Harry settled himself on the bed; resting his head in his hands, while placing his elbows on his knees, watching Poppy go about her business or glancing to see if there was any change in Hank.
Every time Harry looked at Hank though, he felt as though his insides had turned to lead. The knowledge of how close Hermione had come to dying, was eating at him; a voice beginning at the back of his mind, vowing to take all the pain she must've suffered, and placing back on the ones that held her tenfold.
Yet while the thoughts of retribution ran through his mind, he also felt a sense of gratitude toward his teacher, that he would never be able to put into words. By the way Madame Pomfrey described it, Hermione must have been only an inch from deaths doorway if Hank found it necessary to perform this Infusion thing with her.
Some of the worry he was feeling must have shown on his face; for Madame Pomfrey came over looking reassuring. "Not to worry Mr Potter," she said. "He'll be fine. He just needs to rest."
"What about Hermione?" said Harry hastily. "Is she going to be all right? How bad are her burns? How did she get them?"
Poppy held up her hands to halt Harry's tirade of questions. "Hold on Harry! Not so fast! Now … I told you just before, that I would explain it to you, after I had seen to Miss Granger. So that means, not yet. As for your first question … Yes, she will be fine. There is nothing wrong with her, except the burns on her chest … but they're easily fixed. Try to relax Harry … don't worry so much…"
Harry sighed but nodded none the less, thinking that was so much easier said than done. Poppy seemed to know that he was still concerned, but didn't say anything, and merely continued with what she was going to do, before Harry interrupted her.
Poppy drew out a small vial and uncorked it, before leaning over Hank and waving it under his nose. Harry didn't need to be told what it was, for he'd grown up in the Muggle world, and recognised smelling salts when he saw them. He smirked at how even magic has to resort to the crude sometimes.
Slowly, Hank began to stir, his eyes fluttering open slowly. He groaned softly and brought a hand up to his head, as he looked around and focused his eyes.
"How do you feel, Hank?" asked Poppy seriously, recapping the salts and beginning to lay a damp cloth across his brow.
"Where is she?" he asked, completely ignoring Poppy's inquiry. His voice was raspy and weak, but he was still trying to sit up and brush aside the cloth on his forehead. "Is she here? Is she all right?"
"Not this time Hank," Poppy ordered, placing a hand on his shoulder and motioning for Harry to help keep him down. "You need to rest. And yes … Miss Granger is in fine health. I've still got to treat her burns, but she's fine otherwise…"
"Thanks to you," Harry added, smiling down at him. "You brought her back … I can't even begin to thank you for healing her." Harry's smile faltered however, when Hank looked far from happy about being thanked. He was shaking his head and looked almost ashamed of something.
"You shouldn't be thanking me Harry," said Hank quietly, looking away. "If anything, you should be blaming me…"
"Why?" exclaimed Harry, thoroughly bewildered by the very idea. "You saved her life … Why would I blame you?"
Hank opened his mouth wearily to answer him, but Poppy held up a hand.
"Not now Mr Potter," she said sternly, replacing the damp cloth on Hank's forehead. "He needs to rest. I'm sure Hank will answer all your questions when he's more himself."
"No Poppy," Hank argued weakly. "I need to tell him what happened…"
"It can wait," she replied bluntly. "I'm sure you remember how you were, the last time you did this?" She gazed at him sadly, as Hank closed his eyes and nodded; visibly showing his defeat on the subject.
"And I would very much appreciate it, if you stay in your bed this time," she added sternly, giving Hank a meaningful glare as she began to stand. "I know you don't like to stay in one place, but if you insist on moving about, I'll be forced to stupefy you."
Harry snorted as Hank shot Poppy the most injured expression he could manage, before grinning wearily up at her. "I don't think that will be necessary Poppy," he told her. "After all, I won't have to look for something if it's in the room with me."
Harry glanced between them as they gave each other a look that was full of hidden meaning. He frowned in mild bafflement, as Poppy smiled knowingly down at him, and Hank looked a little relieved.
"Kindly make sure that he behaves himself, Mr Potter," said Poppy, as she began to turn away. "And no badgering him for answers! You can wait until he has recovered!" she added, walking away from them and entering Hermione's enclosed area.
Harry sighed and glanced at Hank, who was still staring sadly towards Hermione's station. Knowing that he shouldn't be asking Hank anything, Harry couldn't help himself. There was one thing that he had to know.
"Hank?" he asked, waiting for Hank to look at him before continuing. "I know that I should wait, but I have to know something…" He paused and waited for Hank's reaction.
"What is it Harry?" he replied softly, appearing concerned.
Harry took a deep breath. "How bad was Hermione's condition when you found her? It's just that … Madame Pomfrey said that you must've done something called an Infusion with her … but that it's only used as a last resort … How bad was she, really?"
Harry almost balked at the graveness that shone in Hank's eyes at the thought. Concerned, Harry watched as Hank took a couple of calming breaths, before he turned his eyes toward him again. Seeing the amount of torment his question had brought out in Hank, Harry shook his head reproachfully and waved his hand. "I'm sorry – Pomfrey told me not to ask you anything – I wasn't thinking. You don't have to answer it – "
"No Harry," Hank interrupted, shaking his head sadly. "It's all right … You do have the right to know, just how close one of your friends came to dying…" he gazed up at him, his blue-green eyes were as dull as Harry had ever seen them. "But are you sure, you want to know?"
Harry nodded fervently. "I have to know," he said firmly. "I saw her when she came in with you. I need to know how close she came…"
Hank swallowed as he eyed Harry's determined expression, before sighing heavily and nodding. ……
"I truly hope that you rethink your opinion on Feline magic, Miss Granger … Seeing how it just saved your life?" said Poppy gently, as she applied an ointment to Hermione's burns.
"I already did," replied Hermione softly, still cringing inwardly at the way she'd spoken to Hank; not only about his magic, but about his people as well. Most of which was right in front of him. "And it's not just with his magic either," she continued cautiously, not knowing just how much the Matron knew about Hank.
Poppy raised her eyebrows at Hermione's last statement, wondering what on earth she could have been referring too. "What else did you rethink because of this?" she asked curiously.
Hermione eyed Poppy warily, before slowly saying, "Exactly how much do you know about Hank?" She continued when Poppy didn't reply. "I mean – Do you know anything about his uniqueness?"
At this, Poppy's eyes widened minutely, and she furrowed her brow in abrupt understanding. "Good Lord! How do you know that about him?" she breathed, looking around her as though someone was attempting to listen in. Instead of continuing with how she might've known though, Poppy began to try and tell Hermione that Hank wasn't as bad as she thought they were, and it took a while before Hermione could get a word in edgeways.
"Madame Pomfrey! I'm not afraid of him anymore!" she finally managed to say clearly. "After what happened in the hall and what he did for me just before, is enough proof that what I thought I knew about Felanade's, is actually completely incorrect."
Poppy looked as ecstatic as Hermione had ever seen her. She was smiling from ear to ear, beaming at her. "It's such a relief to know that!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "I was growing worried with all the things you were saying about his people, especially while he was present. It was beginning to dishearten him … but I still don't know why he was taking your comments so personally. Usually he brushes them aside, using the excuse of ignorance to explain other's views toward his kind … but he didn't with you."
Hermione hung her head guiltily. "Yeah … We had a small disagreement earlier on, and I said some nasty things to him … I know I hurt his feelings; but he still came and saved my life. He shared his life's energy with someone who he knew had hated and despised him, for what he was born as. I didn't care that I'd trusted him completely while I thought he was just a normal wizard, and immediately shunned him when he told me what he was…"
"I'm happy you've changed your mind," said Poppy gently. "Does he know about you're change of heart?"
Hermione nodded hesitantly. "I think so … but he was really worn out by the time I woke up, so I don't know if he remembered what happened. I know that I'll be telling him when he's better though, even if he does remember."
Poppy smiled and continued to tend Hermione's burns. "Well, he really is very kind. You'll like him more, the longer you spend time with him. It's just the way he is."
Hermione smiled feebly and nodded, feeling relieved that Poppy didn't lose her head at the thought of her knowing about Hank. Suddenly, a thought came to mind, and she wondered if she should ask the matron about it.
"Something bothering you?" Poppy asked, almost reading her mind.
Hermione glanced at her, before deciding to ask her. "Um … I have a question, but I don't know if I should ask you, or Hank…"
Poppy scrutinized her for a moment, capping the ointment, before replying, "Shoot. But I'll tell you if it's something you ask Hank."
"Um … All right. It's just that, I was curious to know … if Hank and Kahn were the same Feline? I've never seen Hank's natural form, and I've never seen Kahn's human form … and I've seen them both in the same room together, but after seeing what the both of them have done with their magic … I think that anything could be possible."
Hermione waited anxiously, buttoning up the top of her blouse again, as Poppy began to pack everything up; apparently having a great internal debate about whether or not she should answer her question.
Finally, after a lot of fidgeting around, Poppy turned to Hermione with a determined look on her face, and Hermione knew what she was about to say.
"I'm afraid that I can't answer that question Miss Granger … it's not my place. You'll have to bring it up with Hank, if you wish to know."
Hermione nodded, but smiled inwardly, for Madame Pomfrey had just answered the question for her. Now, Hermione defiantly had something to talk to Hank about.
"All right," Hermione replied, feigning disappointment. "How long will it take for him to recover?" she added, truly wondering the length of time she might have to wait.
Poppy sighed dejectedly, and shook her head. "I really don't know. It could take anywhere from a couple of day's, to a few weeks. It's hard to tell, because it's the second Infusion he's ever performed. The more times someone uses it, the worst their condition at the end of it. When he tried to save his brother … he had recovered physically in about two or three day's, so going it shouldn't be too long before he's back to normal."
Hermione nodded again, happy that he wouldn't be under the weather for too long a time. "How long ago did his brother die?" she queried awkwardly, wondering if it was an appropriate question to ask.
Poppy eyed her for a moment before answering, "About thirty-five years ago … give or take a bit…"
Hermione frowned. "What?"
Poppy allowed herself a small smile as she looked at Hermione's confused expression. "You heard…"
"I think I heard," Hermione replied slowly. "Thirty-five years? But Hank only looks about twenty-fiveish? He's not old enough if he was the one who tried to save him?"
"Looks can be deceiving," Poppy grinned. "I assure you … It was Hank with his brother, and it was thirty-five years ago …" she paused and smiled mysteriously. "And Hank looked the same then, as he does now…"
Hermione gasped, thunderstruck. "But that's not possible! How old is he, really?" she said breathlessly.
"Felanade's have great longevity Miss Granger," Poppy began. "I don't know Hank's exact age … but as an example: Dumbledore knew him as he was growing up … and he remembers Hank looking, almost exactly the same…"
"Well, how old is Dumbledore?" Hermione asked immediately. " I know he's older, but he looks to be about the seventy to eighty area?"
"Oh no," said Poppy, shaking her head. "He's about twice that…"
Hermione shook herself visibly. "Are you saying that Hank his over two hundred years old?"
"Uh huh," Poppy nodded. "Don't let that intimidate you Miss Granger," she continued, seeing Hermione place a calming hand to her forehead. "In case you didn't notice, he's really just a big kid. He likes to have fun as much as the next person does … I remember what he used to get up to, and a nice amount of it would put those two Weasley's to shame…"
"Was he really that bad?" Hermione grinned, finding it difficult to picture Hank as such a fierce prankster.
Poppy smiled mischievously and made to answer … but both Poppy and Hermione jumped at the sound of the wing doors opening violently, and of someone calling out. ……
Harry sat on the edge of Hank's bed, with his head in his hands. He could hardly comprehend what Hank had told him of Hermione's condition when he found her. The knowledge that her heart had stopped beating had been a large shock as it was … but when Hank told him that – had he found her even a minute later … he wouldn't have been able to save her – it was too much for him to take. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like, if Hermione had died. She and him were as close as a guy and girl could get, without being seen as more.
"I'm so sorry Harry, I shouldn't've told you…" said Hank, his voice full of regret. "You've got so much to worry over, and you didn't need this as well."
Harry shook his head and turned to face him. "No, it's all right. I'm glad you told me." He took a deep breath to settle himself down, and his thought's drifted to what Ginny had hinted at earlier on. "I just hope Ron never finds out how bad she was…" he said quietly, turning his eyes toward the screens surrounding Hermione's bed.
Hank frowned curiously, "Why not? He has a right to know, just as you did?"
Harry shook his head ardently and was about to reply, when the wing doors burst open loudly. Harry began to feel panic course through him as he spun to see who had entered, but let out the breath he was holding when he saw Ron rush in, looking breathless and frantic. Harry frowned when he noticed Ron's state, and was even more confused when Remus followed Ron through the doors … looking almost as winded, and a touch irritable.
Remus's eyes widened however, when he saw Hank lying in a hospital bed. "Hank!" he half-shouted. "What's wrong? And who did you bring up here with you? I saw you Orb from a room on the second floor, and from what I saw, whoever was in there wouldn't've been in good shape…"
"Was it Hermione!!??" Ron pleaded, staring at Hank after he swept the Ward with a glance; holding his eyes on the enclosed screens for an instant. "Did you find her? And what's this about the second floor?" he added, throwing a bemused glance toward Remus. "Was that where that explosion was?"
"Yes it was," Remus replied, waving a hand impatiently as he kept his eyes on Hank. "Why did you do that Hank? I'm sure the doors did nothing to deserve such a fate?"
"What's all the commotion over!?" Poppy's voice rang out, interrupting Hank's impending answer. All the boy's turned to face them, as Poppy removed the screens, shooting questioning glances at them, while Hermione approached them.
"Hermione!" Ron called, his face splitting into a grin as he also made his way toward her. "What are you doing in here? Are you all right? Where did you go? How come we couldn't find you?"
He only halted his tirade when he enveloped Hermione in a fierce embrace, unknowingly causing her to wince with the pressure against her injuries; but she still smiled weakly and returned the gesture.
"I can't answer your questions yet Ron," she answered meekly, pulling away. "And before you bite my head off – It's because I'm going to wait for Dumbledore to get here, so I can tell everyone at once what happened. I won't be able to tell all of it though," she added, glancing toward Hank. "Some of it will have to be filled in by someone else…"
Harry could see that Ron was far from pleased about having to wait, but he still nodded and walked with Hermione over to the others, and took a seat beside her.
"I take it that you're going to give me the same answer?" sighed Remus, grimacing as Hank nodded. "Well he shouldn't be too long … Minerva went to tell him about those poor doors a while ago…" Abruptly, Remus turned a questioning glance toward Harry. "Err, Harry … Why aren't you in the back room, where you can't be seen? You're currently in full view for any passer by to see…"
Harry shot him a crooked grin. "Well maybe I wouldn't be if you shut the doors."
Remus feigned insult, but still smiled and went over to shut the doors to the Ward. As he did so, Poppy made her way over toward the group.
"Well, this is a popular place today," she chimed. "Now, I know why these three are here – " she motioned toward Harry, Hank and Hermione, "– but why are you two here?"
Remus and Ron shot each other a brief glance, before Remus spoke up. "Well … We were in class a little while ago, until we heard an explosion of sorts which turned out to be on the second floor. I went to check it out, and saw Hank take someone up here, and decided to see who it was."
"And I followed him," Ron finished hesitantly. "He let the class out on the way up here, so no, I'm not skipping it," he added, rolling his eyes before grinning at Hermione.
"I wasn't going to say that," she said quietly, crossing her arms pretending to be hurt. She wasn't doing a good job though, because she kept fighting off a smile.
"You were thinking it though."
"No I wasn't!"
"Yes you were!"
"I was not!"
Harry started laughing along with Hank and Remus, watching as the playful banter quickly grew into a mock boxing match.
"Hey Harry," said Hank, tapping Harry on the shoulder, grinning at the fun. "Is it just me, or do Ron and Hermione fight about everything?"
Harry laughed, and nodded. "No, it's not just you. They manage to argue over the smallest things … but that's just how they get along."
"So … they get along with each other, by bickering…?" Hank raised an eyebrow sceptically, looking confused by the theory.
Harry nodded. "Uh huh … Pretty much."
Hank merely shrugged and lay back into his pillows, continuing his observation of the two friends. "Strange…" he muttered, as if an afterthought.
Harry eyed him questioningly for a moment, before returning his gaze to Ron and Hermione's argument; smiling as he realized that it was kind of strange. Ever since their first year, Ron and Hermione had always disagreed over the smallest of issues. Usually ending up not talking to each other for an amount of time, before they'd put it behind them, only to repeat the process with another bickering match. He was happy to see that their constant arguing had become more playful though lately. It certainly eased some of the tension that was almost constantly surrounding them. Not that they didn't still fight … but at least they worked out their differences a little faster than they used to.
Everyone jumped when the wing doors burst open again, revealing McGonagall and Dumbledore. Both of which were looking rather grave.
Harry let out a breath, once again thanking that whoever came in, was someone that knew about him. Dumbledore's eyes swept the group, resting briefly on Hermione, and Hank. McGonagall however, was staring at Harry; trying to steady her breath.
"Albus, why didn't you tell me that he was here!" she breathed, shooting daggers at Dumbledore. "You only told me that he was alive, and that he was in a bad state! He's clearly anything but!"
"My apologies Minerva," replied Dumbledore calmly. "I had no idea that Mr Potter would be in the main ward at all … precisely for this reason," he added, giving Harry a stern glance.
Harry heard himself shoot out a retort faster than he could even think.
"I can come out here if I want to! I was only talking to Hank while Madame Pomfrey was seeing to Hermione! Is that a crime?"
Harry had stood from Hank's side and was glaring at the headmaster stonily, oblivious to the wary eyes that were trained on him. Dumbledore however, held Harry's gaze unflinchingly.
"Far from it Mr Potter," he replied gently. "You have every right to speak to whoever you choose. I was merely pointing out the reason why it's not a wise choice to be so exposed at present."
"So now you think I wasn't smart enough to realize that?" Harry sneered. "Well I was! Pomfrey told me earlier, but I stayed out here because of the shape Hermione and Hank were in!"
"Mr Potter!" snapped McGonagall, recovering from the initial shock of Harry's tone with them. "Whatever has gotten in to you? How dare you speak to us that way?"
"Minerva, I don't think that your behaviour is going to help the current situation!" Dumbledore muttered, subtly moving in front and fully aware of the cold stare that Harry was shooting at her.
Ron and Hermione had noticed as well. Of late, Harry had snapped back almost straight after he let something slip that he didn't want to say … but Harry had taken both of Dumbledore's statements the wrong way; thinking that he was criticizing him for his worry over his friends. And now, McGonagall had raised her voice at him, provoking him even more with the insinuation that something was wrong with him. Hank and Poppy were also looking extremely worried, and Ron moved in front of Hermione as Harry started up again.
"Nothing has gotten into me!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the top of Hank's bedside table, cracking the wood. "Why does everyone think that there is something wrong with me!? I was only worried about my friends! Why are you questioning that!?"
Harry was struggling, knowing that he would release the building anger eventually, but was terrified of what he might do if he wasn't able to settle down. He knew that he could get rid of it physically, but that meant attacking someone, or trashing the room. Suddenly he heard Hank speaking to him…
"We're not questioning your concern on our behalf Harry," he told him hurriedly. "We very much appreciate it … but you need to calm down!"
Harry clamped his eyes shut and brought his hands to his temples, gritting his teeth in an attempt to quell his fury. Hank's gratefulness had lessened his rage a little, but it wasn't enough. He needed to get it out of his system somehow before he lost all control of himself completely … but the only way's he knew how to do it were too dangerous. He was shaking uncontrollably as he tried to keep what little control he had left…
Hank shakily swung his legs over the side of the bed and made to stand; shaking his head and motioning for everyone to keep quiet as they started to reprimand him. Hank knew that any words spoken about reproachfulness, would probably send Harry over the edge, for he would most likely think that they were directed toward him, seeing how he was unable to see them.
Feeling a sweat break out on his forehead, Hank gingerly placed his weight on his feet, swaying dangerously as he did so. Poppy moved to help, but Hank waved her away as he caught himself. Taking a deep breath, Hank stepped toward Harry, and tried to get him to calm down.
"Harry?" he said quietly, pausing as Harry seemed to flinch at his voice. "Harry, you must try to fight it. Try to think of something soothing to you…" he trailed off as Harry spoke through his teeth, shaking his head violently.
"I can't! Go away! Get everyone out!"
"We aren't leaving Harry," said Hank gently. "None of us want to see you hurt yourself…" Hank gingerly reached out and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, but Harry jerked out of reach as soon as he made contact.
"Don't touch me!" he snarled, opening his eyes.
Hank was taken aback by the look of fury in Harry's eyes … But what caught his eye was the tears of utter self-loathing that Harry was harbouring toward himself. He could see Harry's torment behind the anger, the sadness from his harsh words. What disturbed Hank the most though, was not the flurry of emotion in Harry's eyes, but what was happening to them.
Hank's breath caught in his throat as he saw Harry's emerald eyes, slowly turning red. He could see traces of it, edging it's way along the outer edge of the iris, spreading the heinous colour as Harry slowly lost his battle. Now knowing that it was only a matter of time before Harry lost complete control of his actions, Hank tried a new approach.
"Let it out Harry! Turn your rage to energy and just get rid of it!"
Hank didn't know if Harry understood what he was saying, but he could see that he was now focusing on something. Hank motioned for everyone to move away, only then just seeing how anxious everyone was feeling. Poppy and Minerva looked beyond terror, Ron and Hermione simply looked frightened, and Remus looked as anxious as he felt … but Dumbledore looked unusually grave about something, bordering on guilt.
Suddenly, Hank felt something akin to an electrical surge pass through his body, making him spin around and face Harry, just as every piece of glass in the Ward shattered. Shards of glass flew in every direction; the windows to the wing imploding, showering everyone with the sharp slivers. Everyone covered their heads in an effort to protect themselves, crouching down, yelling in surprise or fright.
Hank looked up as he crouched on the floor, and saw that Harry now held his head in his hands, his eyes tightly closed yet again. Sensing that another bout of energy was about to be unleashed, Hank opened his mouth to warn everyone … but he didn't get that far. At that instant, Harry's eyes flew open, releasing everything that was pent up inside of him.