Adrenaline pumping, Hermione and Dumbledore ran after Hagrids' huge strides, off in the direction of the Infirmary. Her stomach dropped even more when she realised she would have to face Ginny, but that was the least of her worries right now.
"Oh God, let him be alright" she prayed, and Hagrid burst through the double doors, nearly knocking them off their hinges. Hermione feared the worst. The sight that greeted them was not pretty.
Harry was lying on the bed, colour completely drained from his face. His hair was still messy, but also un-even. As if someone had played a cruel trick by cutting it badly while he was asleep. There were cuts and scrapes over every part of his visible body, not to mention huge bruises, and blisters. Like he had been in a fire. Robes torn and dirty, he looked a picture of pain. Madame Pomfrey stood over him, not too sure what to heal first. Dumbledore walked slowly towards the bed.
"We all have a fair idea which party is responsible for this." He began, everyone nodded "but the question is, who. Which person in particular. It could have been Pettigrew, it could have been a Death Eater or, perhaps even Voldemort himself." Hermione saw everyone in the room shudder at the name, except for Dumbledore, of course. "I suggest that Poppy gets to fixing the boy right away, go down to Snape to make the appropriate potions, whilst I call together the members of The Order." Just then, Ginny roused from her sleep in the bed opposite. "Miss Granger and Master Weasly, you may stay here until Miss Weasly is quite herself again. Everyone else, depart."
So they did, the room emptied and it was just Hermione, Ginny, Ron and an unconscious Harry. Hermione walked slowly over to him, afraid to go too close. She sat down gingerly next to him, glanced over at Ron helping Ginny, then back to Harrys lifeless face.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I really am. I just wa- " And her sentence was cut off by Harrys chest jerking upwards and a choked scream escaped his lungs. His arms began flailing as his breathing quickened, and his cries came out only as hollow rasps. Hermione screamed and jumped backwards, as Harrys eyes shot open. No longer were they green, but a deep dark black. His pupils were undetectable inside those pitch black eyes. His hands shot out, as he tried to reach for something in mid air, and as his sleeves fell down Hermione had the shock of her life.
On his forearm was the Dark Mark, not normal, it was cut into his body. Someone has dragged a blade through Harrys skin, so very deep, and torn up his flesh in the shape of the dark mark. Suddenly, it erupted in blood and fire, Harrys screaming became worse and worse, his face contorted in agony. His chest was heaving, breath ragged and quick. The cuts glaring bright white with fire, and then it stopped. It just, stopped. Harry fell lifeless onto the bed again. Ron and Ginny gawped at Hermione, who reached her hand slowly up to her face and wiped it. Looking at her hand again, she saw Harrys blood. The blood of her best friend since first year, and it was her fault.
Hermione took a step backwards, then towards the brother and sister. Ron took a step away, but Ginny stood where she was. As Hermione looked into G innys eyes, she saw fear. Fear for Harry and fear of Voldemort. But it was masked by strength. Hermione swung her eyes to Rons, and they showed fear too. But it was a fear of her. As if Hermione has caused this. As if she had wanted this. He took another step backwards. Hermione turned and walked calmly out of the room.
She walked down the stairs in a daze, unable to believe what she had just witnessed. Then, in the Entrance Hall, she stopped. Having no idea where she was going to go. No way could she go to lessons, not the Common Room, not Fag Hollow. Just to the forest. Maybe to the lake to cool off. And she opened the doors into the sunlight.
As she wandered across the lawn, she felt the sun beat down on her, and the breeze cool her burning tears. She walked into the outskirts of the forest; sunlight dappled by the sparse leaves, and sat down leaning against a tree. Gazing out across the lake, watching the golden light reflect off the crystal water, she wondered how things in life could be so beautiful, so peaceful, but yet others so horrific and ugly. How something as sweet and innocent as a bird chirping in the trees, getting food for it's young, could live in the same world as something as vicious as Lord Voldemort.
She got out her wand, and began absent-mindedly drawing in the loose dirt by her side. "What the #### happened to Harry?" she murmured, "God I hope he hadn't been captured by Voldemort. Well, if he had, why would Voldemort have let him go? Maybe he escaped. I hope he wakes up soon. I'm so scared for him . . ."
Then she focused. There, in the dirt, was the Dark Mark. The mark of pure evil, which she had drawn. Her breath caught in her lungs and she flung her wand to one side like it was on fire. She looked around, as if to check no-one was watching, and then scuffed it out with her shoe.
"What the hell was that?!" she gasped, "the Dark Mark? ####, something's wrong. Very wrong."
She reached behind her to retrieve her wand after she had thrown it aside, and cried out as a sharp branch made a cut down her arm. She cradled her arm up against her body, gazing at the blood trickling across her skin. It shone in the sunlight, such a deep colour with such gleaming highlights. Seeing as it wouldn't stop, she made her way over to the lake and dipped her arm in. Bringing it out, her whole arm was now covered in the now diluted blood. One more dip and it was all gone. Drying her arm off on her robe, she stood up and went back to the tree.
Back there, she caught sight of the branch again, tinged just a little with her blood. She sighed, and shook her head, yet her eyes were drawn back again. Kneeling down, she snapped the branch off the tree and turned it over in her hands. She sat down again, leant back and closed her eyes. Moving the hand holding the branch so that it was poised above her arm, she gently lowered the point onto here pale skin. Dragging it across her flesh, she saw skin peel away. Then, a second time. The third time was harder, and she drew blood. Feeling a little bit of adrenaline, she did it again, deeper. Then the last gash was so deep the blood flowed from it down her arm. Her heart was beating hard and fast, and she smiled as she saw the blood gleam in the sunlight once again. She leant back, closed her eyes, and drifted into sleep.
She awoke to see the Slytherin Quidditch out on their brooms, which was not a good thing because it meant lessons had finished. She yawned, and stretched her arms above her head. It was then that she felt the scabs on her cuts stretch and break open in parts. She cursed under her breath, for being so stupid as to do it somewhere so noticeable. Creeping to the lake again, she rinsed off the dried blood and tried to wash her robes, constantly thinking. Wondering what had made her do that, what had made her cut herself, why it had felt good. It scared her.She made her way back to the castle, making sure to keep her robes covering the cuts.
Up in the Common Room, she found Ginny and tried to push out all previous thoughts about her, Harry was the most important thing here.
"So, 'Mione, you told Dumbledore about the . . . you know what on Harry?"
Hermione cursed under her breath, she bloody well should have done. Why didn't she think of it?
"It's just, well, me and Ron thought it would be best for you to, seeing as you were . . ." Ginny avoided Hermiones eyes, "closer."
Hermione nodded and knew where she had to go.
"I'll come to hun, just to make things easier and support you, yeah?" Ginny picked up Hermiones hand, and her sleeve began to slide down. Hermione pulled her hand away like Ginnys was red-hot.
"Sorry," she said, seeing the hurt look on Ginnys face, "I . . . " and she just trailed off. The two girls sat in silence for a moment before Hermione broke it.
"I guess we should get going to his office then." Ginny said, Hermione followed reluctantly.
As they rounded a corner in a rather shadowy, deserted part of the castle, a figure darted in front of them and blocked the way.
"Don't, even, dare." The voice rasped. The girls stopped dead in their tracks, and as the figure began to advance they leapt backwards in fear. "Don't go to that ####### man. It's nothing. It's nothing." He continued to stalk towards them, until Hermione felt her back against the wall. They were cornered, and they couldn't make out their potential attacker.
"What to you want?" Ginny stood defiant. "And who the #### are you?"
"I, gorgeous, am your worst nightmare." And he stretched out a hand to stroke her face, which was filled with disgust. "Now stay away from Dumbledore . . ." he pushed Hermione out of the way, and got right up close to Ginnys face. As he entered the light of dusk filtering through the dirty window, Hermione saw Harry mutter "or else."
Sorry i haven't updated in a while (not that anyone actually seems to care!) but u have been on holiday.
Peace to anyone who actually bothered to read this, and thanks x