Disclaimer: Never has been mine, still will never be.
Chapter 16: Give Me Some Answers
Hermione gripped Ron's arm tightly and urged her friends silently to ignore the great prat that wouldn't shut up. Draco Malfoy, however, was determined to have a little chat.
"Think you're too good for me, eh Potter? You, the charity case and the filthy Mudblood. Pathetic," he sneered as he slithered up beside Harry.
Hermione looked down to contain herself and saw Harry's fist clenching in anger. Though tempted to stop him, Hermione found herself willing her raven-haired friend to punch the Malfoy heir right in the gob.
"What no snappy comeback from the Tremendous Trio?"
Harry's fist connected with the Slytherin's face so fast, Ron and Hermione barely had time to react.
"Snappy enough for you, Malfoy?" Harry spat at him.
Malfoy was curled on the ground, clutching his nose and crying out in pain. Harry stalked off towards the Quidditch shop as his friends watched in astonishment. Hermione gave Malfoy a quick glance, grabbed Ron's arm and hurried him along after Harry.
"Are you sure you're ok, Harry?" Hermione inquired as they entered the store. Harry wandered over to the display case and nodded.
"Yeah, of course. I just can't stand Malfoy any longer. We've been putting up with him forever. Don't you think it's time we stopped?" Hermione slowly nodded, "What do you think I've been doing this year, Harry?"
"I know, I know," Harry said placing his on the glass countertop, "But it's got to be all of us. Ron?"
Ron's face turned a deep shade of red as Harry's statement questioned his manhood.
"I-I try! Have….haven't I tried?? I…he…" Ron looked at them in desperation, "Oh, fine. You're right. I just wish he weren't so nasty."
Hermione nodded in agreement. Malfoy had been particularly brutal that year.
"But Harry," Hermione started, "I don't think hitting Malfoy is really going to solve anything."
"Hmph. You're one to talk," said Harry .
"Fine. I deserved that," Hermione, though hurt, admitted, "But we've got to change. There are other ways. We can't let him get to us."
Harry walked back over to his friends, "Promise."
"Promise," Hermione agreed and they both looked at the red-haired member of their group. Tugging at his collar, Ron finally got out, "Promise."
***
Walking through the great doors of Hogwarts, Harry, Ron and Hermione talked rapturously about the new broom they had seen in the quidditch shop. After having settled that they weren't going to let Malfoy push them around anymore, they had discovered the new Thunder Strike in a glass case near the rear of the store. Apparently it was too valuable to be placed at the window, even with the charms protecting it. The broom was a deep blue with its name inscribed elegantly in silver on the handle. The advertisement above it said that it was faster even than the Firebolt, with an all-new brake system installed, and a cushioning charm that made it feel like you weren't even sitting on the broom.
"I'll never be able to get a Firebolt, let alone one of those!" Ron complained as they entered the common room.
Harry looked uncomfortably at Hermione. Though they were used to Ron's misery over the lack of money his family had, it never ceased to make them feel bad at the fact that their own parents were more than able to provide for them.
"Ron, life isn't all about quidditch you know. We've got more important things to worry about anyway," said Hermione with a firm tone. Ron's ears went pink at this remark and he was filled with a sense of remorse.
"Speaking of which, Harry have you spoken to Sirius yet?" Hermione looked cautiously around the room to make sure they were alone. Most of the students, fortunately, were either in bed after a long day at Hogsmeade or in the library, chewing through their mountains of homework. There were a few first years remaining on the floor near the window and so the trio lowered their voices to an almost inaudible whisper.
Harry shook his head, "He wrote me a few days ago, but I haven't gotten around to answering him. I don't really know what to say, you know? I mean, he's never been really good at controlling his temper."
Hermione nodded.
"You should really get at it, Harry. He'll worry, and you know how badly that can turn out as well."
"Yeah. I suppose. Alright," Harry consented.
"You want help, mate?" Ron offered.
"Nah. That's alright," Harry told him.
Ron nodded and followed his friend to the boy's dorms after saying goodbye to Hermione. Hermione herself, stayed in the common room, lugging her book bag from its resting corner and opening it to reveal the colossal amount of homework. She sighed as she looked at it. Although she usually never put off her own homework, she knew without a doubt, she wouldn't be able to concentrate. Something needed to be done. There was no way that she could continue pretending that things were ok. Harry was in too much danger for her to ignore everything. Setting her bag down again, she got up from the couch and went to the portrait door. Walking into the dimly lit halls, Hermione made her way to the headmaster's office.
"Bouncing Bellyflots," she announced to the stone gargoyles. She groaned as the statues remained motionless. Of course the password wouldn't be the same. It was constantly changing to protect Dumbledore. Grumbling, Hermione wished that one of the prefect perks was always knowing the password to the gargoyles.
A foot scuffed the floor behind and made Hermione jump slightly. Turning around, she came face to face with Malfoy. Rolling her eyes ever so slightly, she asked, "What do you want?"
"Me?" he asked in pseudo-innocence. "Just out for a walk."
"Right Malfoy. What do you want?"
"To know what you're doing exactly."
"I'm trying to get to Dumbledore's office, but I don't know the password," Hermione said as if it were the most common knowledge.
"Dumb, dumb girl. You don't think that Dumbledore lives in his office do you?"
Hermione's face flushed pink as she realized her mistake. It was true that she had never been to the headmaster's office this late. He always seemed to be the one who found her. It never occurred to her that he had his own room.
Malfoy's smirk spread across his lips. Stupid Mudblood, he thought.
"Well?" she said in a questioning tone.
"Well, what?"
"Where is it?" she asked in exasperation.
"You want me to tell you that? You're mad. Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you," Malfoy's smirk changed into a sneer. He was enjoying playing with the smart aleck Gryffindor.
"Oh, Malfoy. Why don't you just sod off then?" Hermione told him and stalked off.
"Because I love seeing you mad," he told her.
"I'm not mad," she defended herself as she stopped and faced him for a second time, "I'm frustrated."
"As if there's a difference."
Hermione gave him a strange look before walking off again, leaving him standing there with an odd expression across his own face.
After an hour of searching, Hermione finally stumbled into a tall set of black robes.
"Oh, Professor Artemisia. I'm awfully sorry," Hermione apologized as she picked herself up off the ground.
"Not a problem, dear. But what are you doing out so late?" she asked, pushing her tiny spectacles back into place.
"Oh, it's not so late. Most of the older years are allowed out now because of OWLs and NEWTs," Hermione explained, "I was looking for Professor Dumbledore."
"Ah, well, you might be hard pressed to find him. His chambers are carefully hidden," Artemisia said in her soft voice, "Would you like me to accompany you?"
Hermione looked slightly startled and somewhat suspicious. Everyone was chary around the new professor. They were still waiting on her odd quirk to show up.
Finally acquiescing, Hermione fell into stride beside Artemisia. For what seemed like forever, they walked along the increasingly cold corridors.
Eventually, they arrived in front of a wall. For a moment, Hermione looked at her companion as if she might be round the bend. It was just like any other wall in the school. But as Artemisia took out her wand and tapped the stones, muttering a short password, they separated to reveal an opening into a large room.
Stepping inside, Hermione gasped. It was by far one of the most extraordinary rooms she ad ever seen. A red glow seemed to float throughout the room, delicately touching the walls, the furniture, the floor. There was a large sofa off to one side, plump and soft. On the other side, stood a magnificent writing desk, stacked with books and papers, and accompanied by a large wooden chair. On the floor was a great, softly inviting, dark green carpet. Hermione couldn't describe exactly what was so marvellous about the room, it merely had an aura.
Sitting across the room in a soft maroon armchair, was the headmaster. His glasses rested easily on the bridge of his nose and his nightcap flopped to one side of his head. He was reading a rather large book, the title of which Hermione couldn't make out. Dumbledore looked up with a smile as the two women entered the room. He closed his book and set it on a table beside his chair.
"Hello, Professor, Ms. Granger. To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked with his soft, gentle voice.
Hermione looked at Artemisia to go. The professor nodded and the young scholar made her way timidly toward the professor. Standing in front of him, she began.
"Professor Dumbledore, I wanted to speak to you about…about Harry."
"Ah, yes. I assumed you would. I was surprised you did not come straight away. How is young Potter?" the headmaster inquired, taking of his spectacles and cleaning them on is robes. He gestured towards a chair that had appeared behind Hermione, and she sat.
"Well, I don't rightly know. You know Harry; he hides a lot of things. I have a feeling he's putting on a face of bravado," Hermione confessed with a heavy heart.
The headmaster nodded sagely. He had been waiting for her. He knew that of the three, Hermione was the most likely to seek advice from him.
Setting the glasses back on his nose, he began, "Hermione, from the moment I discovered that Harry was in danger, I felt it necessary to watch over him. I, and many others, have done everything within our powers to make sure that he is safe. But what we cannot do is make him happy. We have no control over his emotions, nor should we. The mind is a delicate thing. Harry's now more so than ever. No matter how he tries to hide it, he is scared and feels alone."
"He isn't though," Hermione said almost pleadingly.
"Of course not physically, but in some ways, there are things that you will never be able to help him with because you have never experienced them. Harry has been through a lot in sixteen years. More than any person should have to deal with in a lifetime. And now the pressure is taking its toll. Voldemort has been growing stronger and every day, Harry's resolve has been growing weaker. His happiness drains as evil surrounds him."
Hermione nodded, wishing that he hadn't said that there was nothing that she could do. There was nothing more she wanted that to be able to magic everything away, but there was no spell powerful enough to change existence. She sighed.
"Now, I suppose you wish to know about Voldemort's presence at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked slowly.
Again, Hermione nodded and braced herself. She had no idea what the headmaster would tell her, or if he would tell her anything at all.
A/N Wow, it's been a while. I know that I really haven't slipped back into this story well. Things happen so, we all change, but I hope people will still read and def. review. Lovs to those who do!