Chapter 5
Ron cut a piece of apple pie with his knife. "So now you mean to say," he said to Hermione without taking his eyes off the plate. "That you are sharing a room with that git Malfoy?" He raised his eyes from his plate long enough to glare at the Draco, who was looking in the other direction, oblivious to the death stare being presented him.
"I think you misunderstood me, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "We're not sharing a room, per se, but we are sharing a common room. Oh, and did I mention we were sharing a bathroom?" She was about to leave that last bit out, but decided to say it anyway just to get a rise of the redhead.
Ron almost choked at his pie at the words, and Harry patted him on the back. "You're sharing a bathroom with Malfoy?!" he asked, trying to keep his voice as low as he can. "But, Hermione, he's Malfoy! You can't share a bathroom with him! Who knows what's on his perverted mind! Who knows what he wants to do to you!"
Hermione sputtered on her Pumpkin juice, almost spraying the second year sitting across her with it. Fortunately, the girl ducked in time. "Really, Ron!" she said, trying hard not to laugh. "I didn't say we were using it at the same time! I said we were sharing it. It means were taking turns in using it. And how do you know he's perverted? From the sound of it, you're the one thinking dirty thoughts." She brought her goblet of juice to her lips and drank, hoping that Ron would not make a comment that would make her spit her juice out again.
"That's right, Ron," Harry said. "Besides, even if Malfoy did try anything—" at this Ron's eyes narrowed at him, and Harry quickly added, "Which in my opinion, is very unlikely judging from his well known hatred against muggle-borns, Hermione is sure to have a hex ready to use on him. Honestly, do you really think Hermione would stand still and allow him to violate her? She's not a whore, you know."
Hermione covered her ears with her hands. "Harry! My ears!" she said. "I am not denying what you said, but I am still here, you know. I'd appreciate it if you don't say such things again when I'm around." She removed her hands and looked pointedly at him, her eyes narrowed though there was laughter behind them.
Harry smiled apologetically at her. "Of course, Hermione. I was just trying to point out to Ron that you are not that sort of person."
"Yeah, and I got your point," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "But, really, such crude words Harry. Couldn't you have thought of a different term?" He spooned some more pie in his mouth and chewed on it.
Harry would have said something, but his reply was cut short by the loud tinkling of a spoon against a goblet. The sound brought the attention of everyone in the Great Hall to the elderly wizard sitting in the middle of the staff table.
Professor Dumbledore stood up from his seat, half-moon spectacles glinting in the sunlight that came in through the windows. "Good morning to everyone," he started. "I have some announcements for today. First, we have been here for only one week, and yet it seems that a lot of students have already misplaced many of their belongings. I would like to say that the Lost and Found items are in Mr. Filch's office. If you go there you will find a whole cabinet full of them. There seems to be a journal in there with the initials M.S. as well as a camera which, I have reason to believe, belongs to one of the Creevey brothers. Please claim them as soon as possible."
A soft buzz broke out in the Great Hall, and students everywhere were murmuring things like "So that's where it went" and "I hope Filch hasn't touched it with his grimy hands." Harry shook his head. It was highly possible that the caretaker has gone through every object in the cabinet, seeing that it was in his office. And he would just love to catch a student doing mischief in school. Surely he would be tempted by the many items lying in wait for their owners.
"Second," Dumbledore said, his voice louder so that it would be heard over the noise the students were making. "To the Head Girl and Head Boy, please hold a meeting with your Prefects tonight to determine who will be patrolling which corridors during which nights. The Prefects' office is not available as of yet, due to the renovations we are doing on it, so if would not bother the Heads I am asking that you hold it in your quarters. That will be all." With that, he sat back down on his chair and engaged in a conversation with Professor McGonagall.
Normal conversation resumed just as the Headmaster sat down, and Hermione' sigh was unheard under all the noise. "I was planning to visit Gryffindor Tower tonight," she said wistfully. "I guess now it's out of the question." She finished the last bit of her bread after saying this.
"Don't worry, Hermione," harry said to her. "Ron and I readily forgive you for being unable to go to Gryffindor Tower tonight. Right, Ron?"
Ron nodded and swallowed the last of his pie. "Hermione, just make sure you and Malfoy don't go kissy kissy in front of the Prefects tonight," he said in the tone of a man who didn't trust his wife alone with her male colleague.
"Of course, I'll make sure, Ron," Hermione replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I mean, I have the sense to not 'go kissy kissy' with Malfoy in front of an audience. I do know the meaning of the word 'privacy.' But I can't seem to make up my mind. Do we use his bedroom or mine?" she asked seriously, smirking as Ron's ears went red. Surprisingly, Harry was not smiling either, and it made her feel uneasy. "Alright, alright!" she said. "I surrender. You know I was just kidding around!"
Harry's face lightened considerably, but Ron remained a little sulkier than him.
"Oh, come on, Ron," Hermione said, assuming an exasperated tone. "This is no way to start a fine Sunday morning." She rose from her seat and motioned for her two best friends to do the same. "Come on. Since I don't have the time to visit you guys later, we might as well make good use of our time this morning." She smiled thankfully as Harry stood from his seat, followed by Ron.
Smiling, she linked arms with both of them, steering them out of the Great Hall. She led them out to the Hogwarts grounds, talking of how difficult their first week back at school had been and how much she anticipated their upcoming NEWTs. Sometime during her speech, Ron chuckled, and she turned on him, asking what was funny.
"Really, Herm," he said, his expression easing into a smile. "Of the many people I know, you are the only one who thinks that talking about NEWTs is the perfect way to start a day.
Hermione smiled back and said, "Well at least it got you talking to me again, didn't it? Now, what were we talking about? Right, the subjects we take for our NEWTs. From what I've heard, they change the subjects covered every year. There are the basics, of course, the ones that are always on the tests. Potions and Transfiguration are included. Defense Against the Dark Arts, too, if I remember correctly. There are some others… but, anyway, have you two started studying yet?" she asked, turning to her two friends. By the looks on their faces, she knew they hadn't yet started on anything. "Harry, Ron… we're taking the tests during early March! Don't you think it's about time you started reviewing our past lessons?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, Hermione," he said with a look of mixed mock annoyance and sheer amusement. He put out a hand and pulled her him and Ron. "You expect us to review our past lessons when we can't even find time to finish our homework?" He waved his arms around for emphasis. "Are we or are we not studying in the same year? I mean, by how you act, you have already started studying for our NEWTs, and yet you still finish your homework ahead of everyone else. Not to mention you have Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Muggle Studies, which Ron and I don't have. How do you do it?"
Ron stopped walking, his lips forming the word "oh." He turned to Hermione with a questioning look, which she returned. "Don't tell me you're using that Time Expander thing again behind our backs, just like you did four years ago." He stared at her up and down, as if expecting to see the object hanging somewhere on her body.
"Ron, stop staring at me like that!" Hermione said, hitting Ron lightly on the head. "It's freaky. And it's called a Time Turner, not Time Expander. What's a Time Expander supposed to be? Something that adds hours to a day? Hmm… I admit, it might just work as effectively…" She pulled them both to a nearby rock that overlooked the lake, seating herself on the ground and leaning back onto it.
"So," Ron said after he settled on top of the rock, one leg dangling off the edge and the other brought up against his chest. "Are you using the Time Turner or what?" he asked, looking at the girl seated below him. For a moment his breath caught in his chest at the sight of her.
There was a soft breeze that ruffled her hair a little, and the sunlight made her brown locks shine almost gold. The sun's reflection on the water played shadows and lights across her face. As she brought up her hand to brush a stand of hair away from her face, she opened her lips and spoke, though he never heard what she had said. He was busy staring at the way her lips moved as she spoke that he did not notice she was speaking to him until Harry nudged him in the ribs.
"Huh?' he said, turning to Harry with a puzzled expression. "That hurt. What's your problem, mate?"
Hermione shook with silent laughter, and Ron turned to her. "I said I wasn't using the Time Turner or anything of that sort." She looked at Ron, who seemed to have forgotten their previous conversation. "Oh, Ron, you didn't think I was using a device to help me get by my studies, did you?" she asked, misinterpreting the look he gave her.
While Hermione was speaking to Ron, Harry leaned himself on the rock for support. He was starting to feel dizzy and the images before his eyes were staring to blur. His scar had also began to throb. Bringing up one hand against his forehead, his eyes flew open as he began to see visions.
There was a family of three: a father, a mother, and a baby who was about a year old. They looked perfectly Muggle, living in a neat house in the city, the sound of vehicles from the streets clearly audible from inside. They looked like a very happy family indeed. It was clearly early in the morning as the sunlight streamed in through the windows and bathed them all in a rich glow as they were smiling and laughing. To Harry, it seemed that every family should be like this.
"Table… mother, table…" The soft sound escaped the baby boy's lips as he pointed to the center table in their living room.
"That's right, Ben," his father said, ruffling Ben's hair with his hand in an affectionate way. "That's a table, and this one here is a sofa," he said, pointing to the red furniture that the three of them were sitting on. "A sofa, Ben. Say 'sofa.'"
Ben the baby held on to his mother as he bent his head to better see what he was sitting on. "Jopa," he cried happily, pointing to the carpet. "Jopa! Jopa!"
His mother laughed at him. "No, Ben. That's called a carpet," she said, letting one finger touch it for emphasis. "This," she said, patting their seat. "Is a sofa. Sofa. It's not a jopa, baby." She turned to her husband. "What is a jopa, anyway?"
The man laughed at this. "I don't know, Jade. I'm afraid I don't speak gibberish."
A flash of light and their front door burst open. Standing outside were three robed figures, one of them with a metal arm melded onto his limb. The one standing in the middle stepped into the threshold, and a very cold wind accompanied him from the outside.
While Ben's parents were indignant at the sudden intrusion, Ben himself seemed ecstatic at their grand entrance. "Jopa!" he said, trying to reach out and touch the man nearest him.
"Shush, Ben," his mother, Jade, said at the same time his father, Mike, shouted, "Who are you and what do you want? Building this house cost us a lot, and you're wrong if you think I'd let you walk away without paying for the damage you've done!"
The man who entered the house grinned oddly and let a laugh escape his lips. It was a horrid, cold laugh, and it made the hairs at their backs stand on end. "Foolish Muggles," he said in a voice low and threatening.
"Muggles?" Mike asked incredulously. "And what the hell is that supposed to be?" He shook his head. "You know what, forget I asked that. Just step out of my house and fix my door before I call the police!"
The hooded chuckled again. "Muggle police? I don't think so. I've seen them, and they're all either stupid or corrupt—"
"I know how police are!" Mike said as he tried to protect his wife and son by keeping them safe behind him.
"Well, then, if you know how they are, what's the point on calling them?"
He chose to ignore this. Little Ben seemed to have sensed the danger of their situation, too, and he soon fell back to crying as his mother tried to soothe him. "What I want, is for you to step out of my house. Oh, and to fix my door too." To his surprise, the man did fix the door. One minute the door was on the floor in splinters, and it was fixed and on its hinges the next. Mike stared open-mouthed at them. "W-What are you people?" he asked. There was no way the door could have been fixed in less than two seconds. The man had only pointed a stick to the remains of their door and then it was done.
"We are wizards, my boy, and we cannot leave your house yet because I do not want to have to hit you with a memory charm," the man, who was Voldemort, stated simply. "Besides," he touched Ben's forehead his pointing finger, using his other hand to block Mike. "I need your son…"
"NO!" Jade screamed in anguish. "You can't take him! He's my baby!" she tried to use her hands as a shield between her and the man, but he was obviously too powerful for her. "No!"
The man's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Shut up, woman!" he said fiercely to her. "I need to see if your son is strong enough to channel his life to me." He touched Ben's forehead again, this time chanting something under his breath. Jade only whimpered and Mike tried to struggle against the two other hooded men who kept him pinned to the floor, for that was all they could do.
A grayish sort of mist glowed where the man touched Ben, then it flickered and faded. The man withdrew his hand and shook his head mournfully. "Your son is a sickly child. He does not have the sufficient life force I need."
"If we needed to know if our son was sickly, we would have asked the family doctor to come over, not a psycho!" Mike said angrily. He tried to kick his captors, but found that he could not budge an inch. Something like luminous green rope was wrapped around him. "Hey! Take these off me!"
The hooded man narrowed his eyes at Ben's father, then smiled coldly. He held out his hand, with which he was holding what Mike thought was an ordinary wooden stick. "Finite Incantatem," he said. A whitish light came from the tip of his wand, and freed Mike from his bindings.
"What the…"
The man looked at him. "I have no use for you anymore." Before Mike could come up with a reply, the man had already muttered the Killing Curse, and he fell dead on the floor. The man then faced Ben and his mother, who had an expression of fear. Pointing his wand at them, he said the Killing Curse once more, and both mother and baby fell lifeless to the floor, just as Mike had.
The man, Voldemort, pointed his wand to the ceiling and muttered one final spell. "Mosmordre." Green light emanated from the tip of his wand, shot upward, past the ceiling, and out to the sky. He disappeared out of the house with a faint popping sound, and his two minions did the same, leaving the three dead bodied lying on the floor.
Outside, people were gathering around the house. There, like fireworks that froze in place during the middle of the day, was the Dark Mark, shining a bright green in contrast to the blue sky.
Harry… Harry…
"Harry! Are you okay?"
Harry opened his eyes slightly and found two blurry figures staring down at him that reminded him of Ron and Hermione. He groaned as his scar pulsed again. His head felt as if it was about to split open, and he felt a hand touching it before he fainted.
"Ron!" Hermione shouted a little panicky. "He's out and burning hot! We'd better take him to Madame Pomfrey!" she barely heard Ron's reply as she magicked a stretcher from the air. Harry rarely got a fever and fainted at the same time, and she was worried that there was something awfully wrong going on. She didn't even realize that they were already in the hospital wing until Madame Pomfrey accidentally bumped her in her hurry to get to the patient.
"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron asked as he studied Hermione's facial expression. Now that they were already in the infirmary he wasn't panicking all that much anymore, though Hermione still was.
Before Hermione had a chance to reply, Madame Pomfrey shooed them out. "He needs some rest," the nurse reasoned. "Though I don't know how he could get such a high fever. Was he like this at all this morning?" she asked.
Hermione shook her head. "No. He was perfectly fine."
"We even flew our broomsticks this morning," Ron added. "It wasn't that cold and I don't see how Harry could have gotten sick because of it. Besides, harry rarely gets sick."
"You think I don't know that, Mr. Weasley?" Madame Pomfrey snapped irritably. "That's exactly what I'm worried about. He's a regular here, but the only times he goes here into the infirmary is after an accident of some sort or after he has had and encounter with You-Know-Who!" She stood thinking for a while, then seemed to remember that she was supposed to be showing them out the door and began to fuss again.
Before going out, Ron and Hermione took one last look at Harry. What Madame Pomfrey had said gave Hermione an idea as to why Harry fainted.
Could Harry have seen the Dark Lord?
Harry opened his eyes slowly. Where was he? Looking around the bright interior of the room, he recognized the pristine white curtains of the infirmary beds. Strange, he thought. I don't remember getting here. But then again, I don't usually trudge up here to get myself examined and treated. I always seem to just wake up in here. Pulling himself up to a sitting position, he relived the vision that he saw earlier that day.
"Voldemort…" he muttered under his breath. He brought up a hand to his temple and massaged it to ease the throbbing. "God, what did you do?" he didn't understand what Voldemort needed with the family. He remembered something about a life force. But wouldn't it be easier to get an adult to give up his life? Adults are stronger than babies, after all. Babies are really fragile, adults are not. Well, except the elderly. But the man in his vision wasn't that old yet. In fact, the man was probably just about in his late twenties. So was the woman.
As he was pondering Voldemort's motives, the curtains that hid his bed from view were pushed aside, and the elderly Headmaster stepped closer to is bed. "Mr. Potter," he said. "It is good that you are awake. May I speak with you for a moment?"
Harry looked up at the Headmaster and thought, Well, I must say that, for someone so old and busy, Dumbledore sure has great timing. He sat up straight and looked at Dumbledore in the eye. "Of course, Professor. Have a seat."
The Professor pulled a chair from nearby and seated himself. "Now, Mr. Potter, I heard you have an unusual fever…"
Hermione and Ron sat together in the Great Hall for dinner. Hermione had spent her afternoon drawing out schedules and lists for the patrolling Prefects, while Ron tried to catch up with his homework… by "referring" to Hermione's. Unsurprisingly, he gave up trying to understand it halfway and spent the rest of his time playing Wizards' Chess and Exploding Snap with his sister, Ginny. Harry, in the meantime, remained unconscious in the hospital wing.
"So, Ron, when do you plan on returning the notes that I lent you the other day?" Hermione asked as she reached for the jug of Pumpkin juice. "I hope you haven't yet crumpled and torn them in your frustration."
Ron looked at her with an expression that she couldn't quite describe. He looked faintly hurt at her words, but amused at the same time. "You seem to believe that I won't be able to understand the lessons in your notes," he said. "I may not be as good as you, but I'm not exactly dumb, you know."
Hermione giggled and tried to swallow her potato before answering, lest she choke on it. "I didn't say you were dumb and that you wouldn't get it." She took a swig of Pumpkin juice to push the food down her throat. "But, the thing is, everytime you borrow notes from me they end up looking like a hundred or so manticores just ran over them."
"Of course not!" Ron exclaimed indignantly. "I return them to you looking just the way they did when I got them." But his ears pinked even as he said those words.
Hermione nodded sarcastically. "Right, Ron," she said, slicing up the steak on her plate. "What about that time when my notes were torn in half?" She looked sideways at Ron, whose ears turned pinker. "Or that time when there were scribbles on them that looked strangely like 'What on earth is pi?' Or that time when the time when the papers were completely crumpled and blotted by something that looked horribly like spit? Or what about—"
"I got your point!" Ron cut through her sentence. " Stop it. So maybe they get a little damaged… okay, a lot. I admit I get frustrated easily when I'm trying to do my homework." He put some steak into his mouth. "You know, all this talk about homework has made me hungry." He reached for the gravy and poured some over his steak.
Hermione glanced at him suspiciously. There was something in the way he acted that told her something already did happen o her notes. "Ron, what happened to my papers?" she asked suspiciously.
"Really hungry, Herm," Ron said instead, stuffing more potatoes into his mouth. "Let's just eat and leave the topic."
She continued to stare at him, but decided to just drop the topic. There was something more important than homework, contrary to what her friends might think she thought. "Alright," she said, turning back to her food and eating silently.
Ron looked uneasily at Hermione. She rarely let a topic drop abruptly, and there was a nagging at the back of his mind that told him there was something else bothering his best friend. He let it on for some while, thinking that she would speak up at any time. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, he rounded on her and demanded to know what she was thinking. "Okay, Herm, what gives?" he asked, putting his fork down on his plate.
She finally faced him and looked at him squarely in the eye. "Ron," she said, not sure how she was going to tell him about it. "I was thinking…"
"I surmised as much," he replied, pushing his plate further away. Somehow he felt that she would be telling him something really important, and the thought of food suddenly seemed inappropriate and sickening. "Speak up."
Hermione sighed, but resolved to tell him her thoughts no matter what. "It's about what Madame Pomfrey said earlier," she started. Seeing that he was paying far serious attention to her than to any of their classes, she continued to speak. "Remember she said that the only reasons Harry goes to the hospital wing are either he got into an accident or because he had some sort of encounter with Voldemort—oh, grow up, Ron. Anyway, he hasn't had any accident this week yet, were sure of that. His fever was not caused by any bad incident in school."
Ron stared at her for some time. 'So you mean to say you think… You-Know-Who has something to do with this?" he asked, and frowned as Hermione nodded at him. Her words did make sense, and he didn't know what to make of it. It did seem to be a reasonable explanation.
"Think about it, Ron,' she continued. "Harry collapsed on the ground. He wasn't exactly saying anything intelligible, but we know he was in pain. He was clutching his scar, Ron. He was holding it with his hand, and we know that he's linked to Voldemort through his scar." She paused. A few people had begun to stare at them, and she realized she must look crazy, waving her hands around and saying the Dark Lord's name out loud. She put her hands down onto her lap and lowered her voice. "Anyway, it's the only explanation I can think of. The only way we can make sure is to ask Harry himself."
Ron nodded grimly. "Right," he said, rising from his seat.
"Where are you going?"
"Where do you think?"
Hermione looked at him oddly, then shook her head and smiled. "Are you sure you don't want to finish your steak?" she asked as they both strode out of the Great Hall. She didn't really expect an answer, so it was all right with her when he didn't provide her with any. Together, they ascended a flight of stairs to the second floor. On no time at all they found themselves standing outside the glass doors of the infirmary. From where they stood, Harry's bed was visible, but there were curtains around it that they did not know if he was still unconscious.
"Hermione," Ron said, grasping her wrist just as she was about to enter the doors. "What would you do to me if I told you I accidentally magically erased all the text that used to be on the notes you lent me?"
She only rolled her eyes and said something that sounded to him like "I knew it." Without another word on the matter, she pushed the doors open and entered. She led the way to Harry's bed and pushed aside the curtains so forcefully that the posts shook and the bed's occupant jumped at the very sudden movement.
"Hermione! Ron!" Harry blurted out, holding his hand to his chest. "God! There's such a thing as knocking, you know!" he put his hand down as his breathing slowed to normal, "It took you such a long time to come and visit me."
Hermione sat on the chair beside his bed while Ron sat at the foot of the bed. "Sorry for not knocking on the curtain, then, Mr. Potter. Really, I didn't know that was possible. I wouldn't have been able to do it. You really are one of a kind." She held a hand to his forehead as if to check if he still had a fever. Seemingly satisfied by his temperature, she put her hand back on her lap.
"Well, aren't we sarcastic today," Harry said with a grin.
"She's been getting really good at it year by year," Ron added.
"Don't think I didn't notice."
Hermione rolled her eyes once again. "Go on. Talk about me, why don't you. I don't mind." She glanced at her best friends, who had fallen quiet. "Anyway, Harry," she said. "We're here to ask you something. What really happened? Why did you faint? Did it have anything to do with Voldemort?"
Harry smiled. He admired Hermione for her ability to formulate an explanation with only a couple of information and observations, and he wasn't surprised that she had already found out what really took place that morning. "That's a lot of questions, Hermione. But you're smart as usual," he said. He saw a shade of pink tint her cheeks. "Yes, I did."
Hermione looked blankly at him, as if she had forgotten what they were talking about. "You what?" she asked. Both Harry and Ron peered into her face, and she felt herself blushing under gaze. "Oh, right. You saw Voldemort?" She wanted to hide her face behind her hands. It wasn't like her to lose track of what they were talking about. But Harry nodded at her anyway, so she decided against it.
"Look," Harry was saying to them both. "I don't know what's happening, if it was a premonition or if I was seeing the present, but I saw Voldemort murder three Muggles." He began to tell them all that he saw in his vision, and they both listened attentively to his account. "This thing hasn't happened to me for over a year now, so I don't know what to make of it," he said after telling them his story. "But I do know that this is not a good thing at all, obviously." He sighed and settled back on his bed, resting himself on the pillows stacked neatly behind him. "Of course, I already told Dumbledore everything. As a matter of fact he just left, and he said he was going to check on it right away."
Ron shivered involuntarily, as he did everytime their conversation was about the Dark Lord. "But what would You-Know-Who want with the Muggles? Unless, of course, he did it merely for fun, and I don't see how there could be fun in that."
"He said something about some life force thing. Voldemort (Ron flinched) wanted to see if the baby was strong enough to give his life or something. The whole Wizarding World is well aware that he has already risen, but he is also very weak. The only thing different about him is that he now has a body which he does not have to discard. He doesn't have to go migrating from one body to another from time to time. And he does not have to worry about overworking and overusing his body."
"So why didn't he check on the baby's dad and mom first?" Ron interjected. "I mean they are obviously more capable of giving him strength. If he wanted someone with enough life to transfer to him, he could have just took the elder ones." He stared directly at Harry, who shrugged and gave a look that clearly said he knew no more than the former did.
"That's exactly what I thought, too," Harry said. "Dumbledore said he had an idea, but he had to go check first."Hermione, who had remained quiet throughout the whole story suddenly spoke. "I have an idea," she offered. Both boys turned their heads to her, waiting for her to speak. "A baby, being very young, is very much innocent about almost everything in the world. The mind is not corrupt, the body is in complete order, those kinds of things. And adult, on the other hand, is already very knowledgeable and experienced. And older, of course. The younger the mind and body, the stronger the life force. And the younger the donor of the life force, the easier the transfer of strength. By the state he is in, I imagine Voldemort wanted someone very young with a very strong life force."
"But the baby was sickly," Harry added, comprehension dawning on his face. "The baby was sickly and Voldemort—"
"Stop it, Ron! It's getting annoying!"
"—Voldemort found it out by pointing his finger to the baby's forehead and doing some sort of magic. He expected the baby to be a strong, but he wasn't, so he just killed the whole family." He looked up from his clenched fists and into Hermione's face. "You're a genius, Hermione!" he said, noting how her cheeks pinked again at the comment.
Hermione punched him playfully on the arm. "Shut up, Harry," she said, though the tone of her voice assured them that she highly appreciated and believed that comment.
"Come on, Harry," grinned Ron. "You had to tell her that. Her head is too big already, in case you haven't noticed!"
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Thanks, Ron. That comment was the best thing that anyone has ever said to me." She glanced at her wristwatch and promptly jumped up her seat. "Bugger! I almost forgot about the Prefects' meeting!" She placed a hand on Harry and Ron's hands, fighting the urge to run off and let herself blush red and explode. She can't even touch Harry anymore without feeling queasy! "I have to get going. You go get well, Harry. And you have to give me back my notes, Ron. See you guys tomorrow." With that final word, she set off out of the infirmary and to her room.
As she was walking up the stairs she fumbled with her bag to find the parchment that contained a list of names that she had written down. She was almost afraid that she had lost it, when she fished them out of her bag just as she reached the top of the stairs and landed her foot on the right corridor. Sighing, she went over to Frederick the Frivolous (or Freddie, as she came to call him) and muttered "Crystal Drops." Freddie jumped off, bowing in her direction, and she pushed open the door.
All the Prefects were already waiting, but the other "important" person was nowhere to be seen.
"So sorry you decided to show up, Head Geek," Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin Prefect snapped as soon as she got in the door. "I was beginning to hope you'd never come."
Hermione dismissed her with a roll of her eyes and looked around. "Where's Malfoy?" she asked. They all shrugged, indicating that they hadn't the faintest idea, except Pansy.
"Checking up on Draco?" she asked smugly. "He's not your boyfriend."
Hermione, immensely irritated, faced her with a stony expression. "I know that, and I don't care, but I seem to have missed that part that said you were his girlfriend." All the non-Slytherins grinned at this, glad to see Pansy brought down. "Or maybe you were having dreams at night where you and Malfoy are engaged. There's a difference between dreams and reality, Parkinson, but you don't seem to know it."
She heard a snigger by the door and saw Draco there, leaning against the wall. Without meaning to, she let her eyes roam over his body, admiring his whole profile. She never really paid any attention to how Draco Malfoy looked like, but when she did she was surprised at how much he had changed. When she first saw him at the Hogwarts Express six years ago, he had looked like a pale, scrawny, sickly boy who had a face so pointed that you could have popped a balloon with it. Now… now he was different. The edges of his face had smoothened through the years, making him look less like an enlarged Eagle's beak on a human neck while retaining much of the roughness that it had held. His broad shoulders held muscled arms that were faintly visible even under his robes. His legs had also grown longer, connected to his upper body through a slim waist. She knew that his waist held abs that were enough to knock a troll off its feet, not that she'd seen it, of course. All in all, she had to admit that he deserved being called one of the hottest boys in the whole school.
Hermione inwardly slapped herself. What was she doing? She was checking out Draco Malfoy in front of eight Prefects! As she raised her face to make her look less guilty, her golden-brown eyes met his own silvery-blue ones and she was unable to hide her blush.
"No need to fight, girls," he said, and she was infuriated to see that he was grinning right at her. "There's plenty of me to go around." He pushed himself off the wall and strode over to the center of the common room to stand beside her.
Hermione scoffed and looked sideways at him. "You're just so full of yourself, aren't you, Malfoy?" She had meant to leave it there, but, apparently, Draco didn't have that in mind.
Moving closer to her, he whispered into her ear. "And that's why you were staring at me, isn't that right?" he said quietly just so only she can hear.
"Shut up," she said. She unfolded the piece of parchment as she said so and cleared her throat. "Okay, we're here to schedule the after-curfew patrols. I have in my hand a list that I have come up this afternoon—"
"You? Why didn't you tell me about this?" Draco interjected.
"—and if anyone has any objections with the arrangements, consult me only after the whole list is read—"
"Excuse me! I thought this was a partnership thing?"
Hermione sighed, rolled her eyes, shrugged and turned to face him in one movement. "Well," she said. "I would have told you about it, if you didn't slack off and go directly to Hogsmeade right after breakfast. And maybe we wouldn't have this argument right now if you didn't ignore me this morning while I stood at the Entrance doors and shouted myself hoarse trying to make you get your elitist arse out of your carriage and back into the castle to help me with this."
Silence followed this while she and Draco glared at each other, except for something that sounded to her like Pansy saying, "Oh, you two fight like an old married couple!" in her fake sweet tone of voice.
Draco smirked at Hermione coldly as he moved away and sat back on the floor by the fireplace. "Fine," he said, waving a hand. "Just go on. Don't mind the slacker."
Hermione stared at him disbelievingly and would have made a comment, but decided that the Prefects wouldn't want to see them in another row. Ignoring Draco, she faced the Prefects again. "Okay, let us proceed. We are having two people every evening, one to patrol from 9:00 to 10:30 and the other from 10:30 to 12:00. You and your partner decide who will be taking which shift. Now then, Pansy Parkinson and Terry Boot, you have Mondays in the Charms corridor and the Astronomy Tower. Ginny and Justin Finch-Fletchley, you get Tuesdays in the Entrance Hall and the Great Hall. Umm… Padma Patil and Tristan Glenayre, you are on Wednesdays in Moaning Myrtle's corridor and in Cherion the Crooked's corridor. Dean and Millie Brackhart, you guys get Thursdays in the Kitchen corridors and the area around the South Veranda. Malfoy and I take Fridays in the dungeons and in the third floor corridors and stairwells."
She raised her eyes from the parchment after reading it out and looked at each of their faces. "Does anyone have any objections?" she asked. She spotted Padma scowling more than usual, her foot bobbing up and down irritably. "Yes, Padma?"
Padma's foot stopped bobbing abruptly and she rose to her feet angrily. "Why do I get to work with the Slytherin?" she asked haughtily. "As a Ravenclaw, I deserve better than slime like him."
Hermione tried hard not to roll her eyes at the girl and throw anything at reach into her haughty face. While Parvati, her twin sister, was very nice and very tolerable despite her gossiping nature, Padma herself was very annoying. But as much as she wanted to smack her, Hermione smiled sweetly. "Well, you didn't seem to think so when you were dating him, did you." It was not a question but a statement. "Now, see here, Padma, you can't let your personal problems get in the way of your duties. I placed you with Glenayre because I know that you won't be comfortable with any of the others, anyway, and he is the only one among the seven who you can stand to some extent."
Padma scowled at her for a long time. She wanted to say something, but she can't think of anything sensible. Finally, she sat back down on the couch and crossed her legs, intent on not looking at anyone.
Hermione inwardly grinned. "Okay," she faced the whole assembly. "Before I let you all go, I would like to remind you not to abuse your powers. Prefects aren't allowed to dock points from anyone, remember that. And… well, I guess that's it." She waved her hand at them. "You may go now. And I'll alert you as to when the next meeting will be held." She noticed that Ginny hadn't stood up yet even as the others went for the door, so she walked over to her. "Gin, what's wrong?"
Ginny shook her head. "Nothing. I was just looking at that book," she said, pointing to the book on the table entitled Very Much Mermish by the famous 500 year-old mermaid named Zhatena. "I remember reading it when I was small. It's pretty gory in some parts." She laughed. "I just thought I ought to warn you." She stood up from the couch and waved a goodnight. "See you tomorrow, Hermione." She walked to the door and pulled it open to get out.
Hermione stared at the book for a moment. She hadn't read it yet, but she was planning to start that night before she went to bed. Now she wasn't sure if she still wanted to read it. She turned around to pick up her bookbag and was surprised to see Draco standing behind her. She had forgotten that he was in the room with her. "Malfoy! God, don't do that!" she shrieked.
Draco stared blankly at her. "They've gone?" he asked, not caring to step away.
Hermione did that for him she moved back until she felt the couch on the back of her legs. His closeness to her was making her dizzy. "Does it look like they're still here? They left ages ago. Were you sleeping?" she asked. He did look a little disoriented. "Which means you weren't listening! I cannot believe you! It's the first meeting we ever held this year and you expect to be a role model for your Prefects by sleeping through it?"
He smirked and shrugged. 'Well, you did say I was a slacker," he said. "Now, do you want to tell me when my shift is?" He sat on the couch. Spotting the book lying on the table, he reached for it to look closely at the title.
Hermione closed her eyes for a brief second and breathed deeply. As soon as she exhaled her breath she opened her eyes and snatched the book from his hands. "We get Fridays in the dungeons and on the whole third floor."
Draco nodded and raised himself from the couch, walking toward his bedroom. "Right," he said, and he went into the room and shut the door. For a moment everything was quiet, until he shouted, "Did you say we?"
Hermione rolled her eyes again, snatched her bookbag from the floor and sought refuge in her own bedroom.
A grin formed on the other girl's lips, her mouth opening as if to say something.
"Hermione," the girl in black whispered.
The other girl, the one by name of Hermione, stared at the other girl. They looked too much alike, both with slightly still bushy brown hair and golden-brown eyes. They had the same build, same height, same oval face, and that was what scared her. "Who are you?" she asked, not sure if she really even wanted to know.
"I…" the girl said. "Am you, Hermione. There are two sides to a person, the light… and the dark. I am your dark side."
Light-Hermione backed away from the dark space at these words, for Dark-Hermione was getting out of it. First came her hands, the contact with the dark mirror-like surface creating ripples, causing Light-Hermione to think that maybe it was a thin film of water. Then an old saying popped into her head: Not everything is what they seem to be. She looked up at the person in front of her, who was halfway out of the layer. "Who are you, really?"
Dark-Hermione did not pause, but bent her head down and grinned. "You don't believe me, don't you?" she asked. "I told you, I am the Dark Side of your personality." There was something in her voice that made Light-Hermione shiver, not from the cold. It had a soothing quality to it, smooth and sure. But there was malice and evil dripping from every sound that escaped her lips, a tone that Light-Hermione would never use. "I hold every ounce of evil in your body, in our bodies. You are pure good, because all the bad traits that you should have had are within me. For example, I hold our desire to see Harry strip, you hold the desire to see Harry save the world."
Light-Hermione gasped. "Never," she tried to say. "I would never ever have naughty thoughts such as wanting to see Harry fall naked in front of me. No…"
Dark-Hermione grinned again. "That's right, Hermione, because I am the one who feels that wanting. Like I said, you are all good and I am all bad." She stepped up to Light-Hermione and reached for her hand. "You see, Hermione, everyone has a mission in life. Yours is to keep us, you and me who form the Hermione that is out there in the outside world, good and sane. Mine," at this, she smiled. Not a nice smile. It was a smile that held a promise of evil and trouble. "Is to corrupt you to make Hermione into pure evil. It's just a matter of dominance. The weaker one is overpowered."
Light-Hermione found herself agreeing. The words she just heard made perfect sense, but it made her uneasy. Somehow, she had the feeling that the evil Hermione had the upper hand. Why else wouldn't she know about all this, then? If she were the dominant one, she'd know more than the other did. But, though she felt weak, she would not give in. "Get away from me," she said firmly.
"Oh, I will," laughed Dark-Hermione. "I just wanted to let you know of your current situation. You are losing. If you notice, more darkness has been surrounding you. I'm the dominant one, Hermione, and you are not even putting on a fight. I hate doing something without challenge, so you had better keep me excited by doing what you have to do, which is to turn me good. While you do that, I'll turn evil in return." There she laughed again. "If you can, of course," she mocked. She seemed to grow fainted to Light-Hermione, until she was just a haze that evaporated into thin air. Just like that, she was gone.
Light-Hermione stared at the spot where Dark-Hermione had been standing. Silently, she vowed to defeat her dark self, and she turned, this time disappearing the way the other did.
A/N: Whoot! That was a long one! My fingers are dead sore from typing! I can't believe this chapter reached up to seven pages in Microsoft Word even in font size 8!!! And my butt is numb from sitting in front of the computer all day long! I'm a pretty fast typer, but not that fast, you see. I type faster than my friends, but I can't type without having to look at the keyboard from time to time, so you imagine how much time that takes, trying to see if my fingers are on the correct keys. Moving on…
This chapter is kinda late because I was out for two days. I had a family outing with my (duh) family. It was really nice where we went. The beaches are really pretty and the waters are blue and green in color! The only thing I hated was the sun. It was so freakin' hot that, by the end of the outing, I was burnt!!! I have a very clear tan line on my arm!!! I guess sleeveless tops are out of the question now. Not that I wear much of those kind, anyway. So, because I was gone for two days, I lost two days of typing… and that's a lot of time for someone who can spend only a few hours on the computer when her parents are around!
People!!! Reviews are highly appreciated!!!
Next Chapter:
Not much trouble. Ordinary school life goes on. Oh… and more of the "Oh, his/her body changed a lot these past few years" kind of thing. I just can't bear to leave those parts out!
Gawd… my butt hurts…