5

An Issue of Trust

"I wanted to know who you really are

I needed the chance to stitch up my scars

I'm closer to you than I was in the start

Come dive right in and tear me apart."

--Adema

To say this is bad would be the understatement of the century. I force myself to my feet, fighting to keep my exhaustion at bay. The silence that had just minutes before seemed so peaceful and calm now seems frightening and deadly. The falling snow no longer holds the magic it once did, but instead speaks of danger and potential harm.

We must get farther away from the school. We're still in plain sight if anyone should look close enough. I can't pick up Hermione, her body is dead weight. I drag her through the snow, further back into the forest. I'm well aware of the trail I'm leaving behind me. I may as well be leaving behind neon signs for any potential pursuers, but it's all I can think to do.

Once I'm out of sight of the school, I collapse again. I'm shivering from the cold and my heart is racing. What do I do now? I can't leave her here; she could freeze to death, and even if she doesn't, then she would have to go back to the school and Lucius Malfoy. If I had intended for that to happen, I never would have rescued her in the first place. Therefore, I must take her with me. But where do I take her to? I can't take her back to the hideout. Letting her know where it is would be a deadly mistake, and I've made enough of those for one day. Even if she weren't to betray its location willingly, under the influence of Veritaserum, she wouldn't have a choice. Not to mention the fact that Ron, Fred, and George would probably kill her on sight. So that leaves me back at square one. Where do I go?

Before I go anywhere, Hermione has to wake up. I can't carry her or drag her all the way back to the safe Apparition point, which I know I will have to go to no matter where I take her. Since she wasn't magically stunned, I can't simply use a spell to wake her up. She has to come around on her own and the longer it takes, the more danger we're in. Lucius will be expected back at the school and people will begin to wonder what's taking him so long. Someone will come down to see. Even if they don't, the Stunning Spell will gradually wear off. Any way I look at it, we're in a terrible situation.

I'm beginning to see what Ron and Hagrid were worried about. I was taking risks when it came to Hermione. They were worried I would take a risk that would fail and leave me in a bad place—leave us all in bad place. Their worry was not unfounded, I now see. They were perfectly correct, and unfortunately, it took my mistake to make me realize that.

I sit here shivering and berating myself for at least fifteen minutes before I feel Hermione beginning to stir beside me. By this time, I have worked out a semi-decent plan. It's the best I can come up with, anyway. I'll take her to the old cave Sirius hid out in during my fourth year. That's our safe Apparition point, so there's a Camouflage Charm over the front of it. No one knows the cave is there. We'll be safe and I can contact Sirius from there. He'll help me decide what to do.

"Harry?" says Hermione from beside me. Her voice is hoarse and quiet, her eyes squinted. "Where are we? It's so cold . . ."

"We're in the forest outside Hogwarts. It's snowing," I say bluntly. While the vicious hatred I once felt for her is gone, I have to keep my emotional distance. I can't show her compassion, can't give her anything she might use against me later. If Ron's right, that's what she wants and though I don't want to believe that, I know it's still something I must prepare for.

She struggles to sit up, shivering violently. For the first time I notice that she's in her Hogwarts school uniform, which includes a skirt. Her cloak covers her, but I imagine that she still must be very cold. I'm cold and I have on a thick jacket and jeans. I realize that her uniform is mostly green and I narrow my eyes unconsciously. No, she's not wearing a Hogwarts uniform—she's wearing a Puerclades uniform.

She doesn't appear to notice my scowl. She cries out in pain and clutches her stomach. I remember thinking that I heard Lucius kicking her. I kneel down beside her, feeling sorry for her despite my vow not to. "What hurts?" I ask.

"My stomach . . . I think I have a broken rib," she whispers.

I shake my head. "You can't know that," I argue.

"I know what a broken rib feels like," she replies.

I don't bother arguing, understanding what she's implying. "What else?" I continue, instead of responding to her previous comment.

"My head . . . and I'm so cold . . ."

I see the dried blood on her head and wonder if she may have a concussion. She has a distinct blue tinge to her lips, a sign that hypothermia is setting in. I curse myself for not noticing her attire sooner and stand up, ripping off my jacket. The wind bites at me more harshly now, but I'm still dressed warmly enough. I give Hermione my jacket and help her into it, noticing her dazed, half-conscious state.

"Come on," I grunt as I pull her to her feet. She sags against me again, but she is conscious enough to walk as long as I support her. "We have to get out of here. It's a fairly long way."

It takes us twice as long to make it back to the cave as it took for me to walk here from it. Hermione can hardly stand, so I'm really supporting both of us. Several times during the hike, I fear that Hermione is nearing death. By the time we reach Sirius's old cave, I'm sure of it. Her lips are completely blue and her skin has a blue tone as well. She's shaking violently and her breaths are short and shallow. By this time I'm practically carrying her. She appears dazed and unaware, barely speaking except to complain of exhaustion, another symptom. I know better than to let her sleep—to do so would be to kill her.

When we reach the cave, she tries to sink to the floor, but I catch her and keep her standing. She blinks her eyes rapidly a few times. "Harry, please . . . just let me rest . . ."

"No," I say firmly. "Hermione, you're freezing to death. You can't sleep or you won't wake up. Hermione—do you hear me?"

She nods. Her eyes are glazing over. I remember thinking just four days ago how I couldn't care less if she were to die. Now all I want is to keep her alive. How did this all happen? When did the world flip over backwards?

I know that she needs warmth or else my efforts will have been wasted. I rip off my two shirts and take my thin undershirt off. I quickly struggle back into the other two before I get frostbite myself, clump the undershirt into a ball, and throw it onto the floor. I see Hermione nodding off and pause to slap her gently on the cheek. Her eyes refocus, and I dare to quickly pick up some twigs and sticks from the corners of the cave. I toss them on top of my shirt and pull out my wand. "Incendio!" I whisper, and bright flames shoot from my wand's end. The pile of sticks and cloth catches fire immediately and I drag Hermione over to it. I can see that she's slightly more alert now that the fire is there, but she's still dangerously close to death.

I move away from the fire and point my wand toward the ceiling. "Adminiculus!" A red beam shoots upward, hits the rock above my head, then evaporates. This is the signal our two groups have agreed upon. Dumbledore and his group, as well as my own, will be alerted to the fact that I'm in trouble. They'll know who it is that's signaling for help, so I hope that Sirius will be the one to arrive. I also hope that no one from my group shows up. I'm not ready to face that bloodbath.

I walk over to Hermione and shake her to keep her alert. I look outside where the wind of the blizzard still blows harshly. I'm glad that there's no view of Hogsmeade from here—it's a grim sight. Most all of the buildings are now no more than mere foundations, burned to smoldering heaps of rubble by the Death Eaters. The Shrieking Shack still stands, for the Death Eaters' personal use, but all other shops have been looted and demolished.

I hear a sound behind me and whirl around. Sirius stands there, staring at what must be quite a sight to him: Hermione half-unconscious by a small fire, with me sitting beside her. He shakes his shock quickly and moves forward.

"Harry," he asks cautiously, as though speaking to someone who is hovering on the edge of insanity, "what's going on?"

I point my wand once more at the ceiling and mutter, "Securus!" A green beam of light follows the same path the red just did. Hopefully this will prevent any members of my own group from appearing. I turn to Sirius and nod at Hermione. "She's freezing to death. I don't know much healing. Do you know anything to cure hypothermia?"

"Why?" asks Sirius calmly. "Harry, why do we want to save her? Just give me a reason, because right now I can see none."

"She's hurt, that's why!" I snarl. "Please, Sirius. I don't know why I want to save her so desperately—believe me, I've spent plenty of time wondering myself—and I don't have time to explain my tangled thoughts to you. Just trust me when I say I've seen another side to her. Trust me, and do something!"

Sirius studies me, then nods. He looks Hermione over, wearing an unconcealed expression of disgust, then kneels beside her. He takes a minute or two to perform some complex spells while I watch anxiously. When he's finished, he steps back. Hermione is lying on the cave floor, appearing to be asleep. The blue tinge is gone from her skin and lips and she is no longer shivering. When Sirius pushes her closer to the fire, she doesn't stir. He sighs and sits down, putting his back against the stone wall and regarding Hermione's prone form through suspicious eyes.

"Okay," he says. "I took care of the hypothermia."

"Thank you," I say gratefully, sitting down beside him.

"She looks pretty banged up. What happened?" He states this as a fact. There's nothing in his voice to signal that he cares. I don't blame him; if I hadn't spoken to her as I have, I would react the same way.

"Lucius Malfoy was beating on her," I say. "She thinks she has a broken rib. I think she has a concussion."

"Yes, well, she'll have to live with that," says Sirius, and I can hear the fatigue in his voice.

"Are you all right?" I ask worriedly.

"Yes. Healing takes a lot out of some wizards, including me. I just did a very complex healing. It drained a lot of my energy is all." He looks at me. "Harry, I need some explanations. What are you doing here—with her? And why do you care so much about her well-being all of the sudden? Last time I checked, you wanted her dead."

Again there is the question I don't know how to answer. Why do I care so much? Just because I have a hunch that she's a victim in this, too? I have no proof. She could still be decieving me and I know it. I could have just saved the life of a person who intends to kill me. Somehow though, I don't believe that. I do my best to explain what has gone on to Sirius. I'm aware that my words are jumbled and hard to decipher, so much so that I hardly understand what I'm saying. It's no surprise that by the time I'm finished, Sirius looks confused.

"Okay," he says slowly. "So you believe and trust her?"

"I'm starting to believe her. I definitely don't trust her. Not yet."

Sirius nods. "Good. I think it's a mistake to even believe her, though. She's proven that she's excellent at deception. And even if this all isn't a lie, she's put herself where she is. She doesn't deserve a second chance. She doesn't deserve your help." Sirius sighs and scratches his head. "But I suppose that's your decision to make and your help is yours to give. I don't agree, I won't lie to you about that, particularly since you have people depending on you. But I won't stop you."

"I won't risk the others for her," I assure him. "I know better than that."

"You've already risked them, and more than once," Sirius reminds me. "Running in there like that and dueling Lucius Malfoy? You were lucky. If you'd lost, then you'd be dead or they'd have captured you. Your whole group could have been sacrificed."

I know he's right, which hurts the most. I know I've failed them, chosen our enemy over my friends, and I feel almost like a traitor myself. I nod sheepishly. "I know I screwed up. But what would you have done? Seeing someone you once cared for being hurt so badly, knowing they could be killed? Hearing their suffering and pain? Yeah, she betrayed us, but I didn't think she deserved that."

Sirius shook his head. "My years in Azkaban were undeniably the worst of my life, but one thing I can say is that I learned a lot in there. One thing I've learned particularly well is that when someone betrays you once, they'll do it again if given the opportunity and motive, claims of redemption be damned. Hermione betrayed us all in the worst of ways. I simply can't believe she'd change so entirely in such a short amount of time."

"But what would you have done?" I press, a horrible feeling chewing at my gut.

Sirius looks at me hard. "I think you know the answer to that question, Harry. And I think you understand the reasons why." He looks away.

I can't say I don't, because just days before I would have reacted the same way. But the last two days have been a whirlpool of madness, and my head is spinning from my trying to keep up with all the things that have changed. I just nod in response to Sirius's words, ashamed that I've disappointed him.

"So what do we do?" I ask. "About Hermione, I mean? I can't just let her go back there now. They'll probably kill her. And if they don't, they're sure to use Veritaserum to get her to tell them everything she knows. She's a security risk."

"They won't."

I look across Sirius and toward the few embers that remain of the fire. Hermione is sitting up, still wincing with pain, but looking a lot more human than she did ten minutes ago. Sirius is watching her closely, but his expression is blank.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"They won't use Veritaserum," she says. Her voice is small and I have to strain to hear her. "They would have at first, but not anymore."

"Why?" asks Sirius suspiciously. His face is not so blank anymore.

"Because Lucius Malfoy is a cocky man. He's grown used to being able to torture any information out of me. He takes what I say at face value, feeling I'm too meek to lie. I can hold out against the torture if I have to and I often do. His ego is simply too large to accept the fact that I would dare lie. I won't tell him anything and he won't use Veritaserum." She scowls a little, but I can see the pain in her eyes. "He thinks it's more fun to do it the other way anyway. So don't worry, I'm not a security risk." She stands up. "I'll go back. Thank you for saving me, Harry, even if it was in vain." She turns toward the mouth of the cave.

"Wait!" I call, leaping to my feet. She turns to look at me. "Won't he kill you?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. I don't really care. He may, once he feels certain I've told him everything."

I bite my lip. What can I do? "Well, let me go and talk to the rest of my group," I suggest, not knowing what else to do. "Maybe there's some alternative. I didn't risk everything to save you just to let you go back."

"You've done more than enough for me already, Harry," she argues. "I don't deserve it. Just go on and forget about me. It'll be easier on everyone. I can't see why you've even done this much."

"Because I trust my instincts, Hermione," I reply. "And because my instincts are telling me to trust you. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you're playing me again like Ron thinks, but I can't ignore what I feel. I think that there's more to all this than meets the eye."

"You have no reason to," she counters. "I betrayed everyone. I put everyone where they are now. Those are facts."

"But everyone believes you did it willingly. Did you? Is that a fact?" I demand.

"Yes!"

"Well, I don't believe you!"

Silence descends again and I stand facing her, resolute. I can see the mixture of emotions on her face: pain, fear and uncertainty. I can feel Sirius watching this whole exchange intently.

Sighing, I say more calmly, "You still won't tell me what you refused to last night. Why is that?"

Hermione looks down and says nothing.

I shake my head. "I won't believe you did this willingly until you tell me what that is."

Hermione looks up at me, appearing frightened. "Harry, just stop it! Stop living in the past, in your own fantasy! I'm your enemy! I work for Voldemort! I betrayed you and Ron! Why do you want to be around me? You're the good guy, I'm the bad guy, that's all you need to know. Nothing else matters."

"If you're my enemy then why did you apologize last night? What are you trying to hide from me? Why did you keep insisting that there's more here than I can see?"

"Because I was lying," she snaps, her eyes flashing. "I was trying to get close to you so I could turn you in! I was trying to earn your sympathy, and you were fool enough to fall for it! Fool enough to take it this far! You always were a sentimental idiot!"

Her words don't hurt, because I can see the lie her in eyes. I take one step toward her. "Hermione, calm down. We both know you don't mean that. Why are you trying to keep me away from you? Why are you trying to hurt me with words you don't mean? Just explain it to me and I can help you."

A tear slides down her cheek and she shakes her head. "No, you can't," she whispers. "No one can. I won't betray you again, Harry. I promise."

She turns and walks right out of the cave and into the dark, stepping into the roaring blizzard without another look back.