Preamble:
Sorry about the delay in this chapter. Suffice to say, I'm pretty busy with school. While some of you may already be enjoying vacation, I'm stuck in preparation-for-exams mode. However, I'm intent on seeing this through.
In Response to Huggiebear's Third Review: Well, the way I see it, I'd think that Hermione would have the advantage. True, Harry would've learned a great deal from Auror Training. However, he would've been learning advanced spells – spells that could potentially dole out some serious damage. Definitely not things he'd willingly use against Hermione, and not in front of fifth and sixth-years. I'd imagine Hermione would know more about those safer types of spells. Thanks for the reviews, though!
In Response to the Rest of the Reviews: Thanks! It's greatly appreciated.
Upon awakening, the first thing registering in Harry's mind was pain. His body, throbbing as if pummeled for endless hours, ached though he just lied there. His eyes jerked open, stinging with the light.
As quickly as the pain had come, though, Harry could feel it subside. As his eyes adjusted to the glare, he could see Madame Pomfrey spooning some liquid over him. Murtlap essence, Harry thought distantly.
Tilting his eyes, Harry could see a figure sitting at his bedside. Jumping up, Harry saw Dumbledore watching him through his half-moon spectacles. The bowl was knocked out of the matron's hands, crashing to the floor. Shards flew across the room. Harry clutched his bed sheets, realizing he was in the Hospital Wing.
"Now, Harry, calm down," Dumbledore said placidly. Harry obeyed, though not without reluctance. He squinted, casting around for his last memory before awakening. It was not long before it came to him, and Harry distinctly winced as it did. He had used the Cruciatus curse upon Hermione. An Unforgivable Curse, used outside the last defense before death, merited nothing less than a trip to Azkaban, the wizarding prison. The penitentiary had once been guarded by Dementors, hooded ghouls who had flocked to Voldemort in the hour of his return. They had been destroyed, then, too. Now, fierce manticores roamed the halls of the prison, which was almost a worse fate than the Dementors.
Harry immediately panicked. "Professor Dumbledore, please! I didn't mean to use the curse on her! It was an accident, and she used this spell on me, so I can't go to Az—"
Dumbledore hushed Harry. "You've nothing to fear, Harry. Hermione has explained to me the circumstances, and there'll be no charges."
"What? There's no way anyone at the Ministry would belie—"
Dumbledore cut Harry off with a simple wink and a confirming smile, saying far more than words. If he wasn't planning on informing Fudge or anyone else at the Ministry... well, Professor Sprout had seen the proceeding, stunning Harry. His back still ached. With a sudden groan, Harry remembered both the Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms classes. They had seen it unfold, and had undoubtedly told everyone else they knew. The entire school would be teeming with talk of the affair.
"Dumbledore... everyone will know by now. They've probably been talking about it since... ah..."
"Nine hours ago," muttered a very bitter Madame Pomfrey, who was sponging up the murtlap essence from the floor.
"Er...right. There's no way I can go back to teach, and..."
Dumbledore shook his head. "Harry, I told you that you've naught to fear. After you had been stunned, Professor Sprout came to your aid. She knows what happened and agrees that it isn't your fault. She and Hermione got you her, and alerted me of the circumstances."
"But what about the students?" asked Harry.
"They've been informed about the circumstances. With your noble history, Harry, I doubt anyone would mind. You've achieved far too much for a silly dueling incident to tarnish your reputation. Now, you're probably quite tired. I'd suggest you get some sleep before tackling anymore lesson plans. Good night, Harry."
Harry, noticing he was tired, considering he had spent the last nine hours stunned, bid Dumbledore his farewells as the old Headmaster departed. It never ceased to amaze Harry at how he could take such calm control in times like these.
The sounds of Madame Pomfrey bustling about died down, and soon were replaced by silence. Recounting the event in his mind, Harry hardly longed for his next class. How he could teach without outbreak was impossible, it seemed. As the images of Hermione writhing on the ground coursed through his mind, Harry nodded off, watching them play before him as dreams.
In the dead of the night, the castle of Hogwarts couldn't be less of a similar place to the Hogwarts of the day. By light, conversation filled the halls, chorusing through corridors and into rooms. Naturally, every inch of the school was covered in Sound-Swallowing Charms, which made the ruckus much more bearable. Nonetheless, the difference was still prominent. Though it always seemed that some student of varying age and house was creeping about the halls, be them headed for the kitchens or some other late-night expedition, every small creak and groan of the tower could be heard.
The Hospital Wing was very much the same. What was hidden from the eyes incited fear. Shadows crept across the walls, cast by interwoven instruments. Throughout this, Harry slept soundly. He had spent much time in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts as a youth, and was experiencing far too much pain at those times to bother worrying about darkness.
Though quiet took its natural place by the night, it was pierced. Amidst the normal nighttime sounds of the castle, a sound in the hospital wing could be heard. Someone was lurking. The figured, garbed in black and cloaked by the night, raised a wand and uttered a silent incantation.
"Imperio."
Harry, who had been slumbering in his bed, suddenly sat bolt upright. Though half of his body was still asleep, the other half wondered what he was doing. Unconcern crept over Harry. What am I doing? he asked, detached. As he made for his wand, he suddenly realized he was sleepwalking – of the sorts. The wand was in his grasp, and the tip was slowly being pointed to his head. It dawned on Harry, coming as shock, that it was he who was doing this. He tried to shake the sleep off, but realized control was beyond him. The wand edged closer to his skull, and Harry could feel his mouth whisper a spell.
"Avada Ke—NOOO!"
Harry screamed out his defiance, shaking off the Imperius Curse. That unconcern was no sleepwalking. He had been cursed. Whispering yet another spell, Harry's wand tip lit, casting but a narrow beam across the room. He shone that beam across the opposite wall, amongst a cluster of beds. Somewhere through the darkness, someone was watching him.
"Avada Kedavra!" the hidden figure cried out.
Reacting with reflexes born from three years of training, Harry cried out, "Orchideous!" A whooshing sound emanated from across the room. He felt an unseen force was charging towards him, though knew no light could reveal it. A bouquet of flowers sprang forth from Harry's wand. A dazzling glare of green light met the bouquet, which wilted before Harry's eyes. The killing curse could not be dodged nor countered, so conjuring something to block it was the only option.
At that moment, the door opened, and light poured in. Madame Pomfrey appeared, clad in fluffy pink robes and slippers, clutching an oil lantern. A cry of, "Portus!" filled the air, and before Harry could turn his head to see the character, he had disappeared.
"Harry!" the matron cried out, shuffling over to Harry in her slippers. "Are you okay? My, did they hurt you? I heard spells, and—any bleeding? Burns? Impact? I can fix those, but if—"
"No, thanks," Harry said, struggling free from her grip. "I'm fine."
The door swung open again, revealing Professor McGonagall and Hermione. They both rushed over to him, fighting past Madame Pomfrey.
"Minerva! The Hospital Wing is closed, and I'm afraid I must send you and Hermione out."
Professor McGonagall didn't as much as take notice of the order. She cast a hawk-eyed gaze are Harry, and asked him, "What happened?"
Harry did not go into much detail, though he explained about fighting the Imperius Curse, the semi-duel in the dark, and Madame Pomfrey's entrance. As he told her of the person's departure, McGonagall grew thin- lipped, and Hermione grew pale.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Uh... oh, Harry! That character used a Portkey to escape. But after you defeated Voldemort, it was made so Portkeys can't be used to escape Hogwarts. You can only travel throughout it."
"That person who tried to kill you," Professor McGonagall said, shaking, "is still in the school." Harry's eyes widened. "Come. You're coming to Professor Dumbledore's office. As of this moment, you're under protection."