SEQ CHAPTER h r 1Title: An Inevitable Fate
Chapter Thirty One: Problems and Potions, Professors and Photographs
Author: KissThis
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Rating: Nothing particularly wild and crazy in this chappy.
Pairing: Harry still loves her...
Setting: 6th year in Hogwarts.
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Disclaimer:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And I am too
But the flowers are dead
The sugar has ants
I don't own H P
Now put on your pants!
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A/N: Not quite as long as I had hoped, but enough to tide you over (I hope!) I should start getting into the preparations and plans for the Halloween ball in the next chapter 'cuz we seriously need to get this story moving along! Lol. Thanks to all you faithful readers!
Flames exploded out from the fireplace; giant tendrils dancing across their stone encasement. A warm breath caressed Harry's face as the fire in the hearth popped and sizzled loudly. A hand touched his shoulder and he jumped – startled from his trance. He twisted his neck, at a rather painful angle, to look behind him; the reflexive action awarded him a good deal of discomfort as he craned his head around.
Hermione was standing behind him. She was no longer crying. As the redness in her cheeks and puffy eyes disappeared it was hard to believe she had looked anything less than the calm and composed appearance she now wore. Her sudden change unnerved him, and he worried what pain she was enduring on the inside – hidden from his sight.
Hermione withdrew her hand from his shoulder and stepped forward. Grateful to be relieved of the uncomfortable pose, Harry's respite was short-lived.
With her hands clasped primly in front of her and her Mary Janes pressed side-by-side, Hermione waited for the arrival of her professor. Sunlight streaming in from the windows barely caught her in it's dusty beam of light causing the shadows cast across her face to deepen. From their darkened resting place beneath shadowed brows, amber eyes were glazed with reflected flames as she gazed into the fire.
Harry nodded at her – caught in a slow passing of time – and when she made no response, he turned sluggishly to face the grate. The flames within turned an eerie emerald. He felt rather than saw Hermione's slow, shuddering breath. His eyes darted to her face, but the girl he felt beside him was not the one framed within his eyes.
Please, Hermione...let me help you.
Another particularly loud pop bounced off the stone hollow showering the ash-laden logs with flickering sparks. Moments later the disembodied head of their potion's professor appeared in Hermione's bedroom fireplace.
Hermione's head lowered slightly. "Professor Snape." She murmured in greeting. Her voice was clear and crisp, but Harry could hear the torture and anguish through her fire-laced eyes. There was a stain upon her soul.
"It is reassuring to see you awake, Miss Granger." Snape's head bobbed within the emerald flames as his voice echoed bizarrely in a warped copy of its natural form.
Gathering her skirt against her legs she lowered herself into a kneeling position before the fireplace putting herself at eye level with her professor's projection. "I apologize if the Order was set back by my incapacitation."
Snape's beady eyes locked on her face, searching for a sign of humor upon her features, but her statement appeared made in all seriousness. He cleared his throat.
"If that is the case then I'm sure a little more hard work on your part will have the schedule back on track."
Harry couldn't fight the indignation at his professor's words, and let the angry words spill out. " 'A little more hard work'?! Surely you can't be serious, Professor?" He exclaimed. "She was nearly in a coma, for Merlin's sake!"
"Harry."
The softly spoken word made him stop short. Hermione's hand was on his arm, barely holding on, yet compelling his attention.
"It's alright Harry." She said in the same voice. Her eyes met his for the first time and held his gaze.
He could barely move under her paralyzing gaze. His heart cried out as her eyes bore into him and gave him a glimpse of the broken soul hidden within. Raw pain and sadness engulfed him. He managed to shake his head.
"No..." he whispered, losing his voice. "You don't have to do this anymore, Hermione..."
She smiled at his naïveté – a mere shadow of the true action.
"I'm stuck." She whispered back and turned away, her hand falling back into her lap.
Snape's eyes swiveled to look her over, then turned back at Harry. "This is your exit, Potter."
Harry turned to Hermione, but her head was turned away, her gaze upon the sheer gold curtains of her bed. His mouth closed in shock, the words already dead on his lips.
Hurt and confused, Harry made his way to the door. "I'll let the others know you're awake." He mumbled.
Through the gold-framed mirror hanging upon her wall Hermione watched him go, holding to her apologies until they could once again speak in private. When the door closed behind him with a muted click she returned her attention to the fireplace.
"Are you alright?" He asked after a moment.
Such a simple question. But one that would receive a far more complicated and weighty answer. She unstuck her lips to speak. They were chapped and dry.
Snape's eyes narrowed in suspicion when she did not answer right away. "Hermione?" he probed.
"I..."
Hermione was about to tell him everything; the voices, the illusions, the pain, the nightmares. But as she parted her lips to speak her eyes fell upon the picture unashamedly occupying the very center of her mantelpiece.
It had been taken a year ago.
Harry's arms were around her shoulders as he hugged her from behind, his face beside hers. Ron was right at her side, carrying his little sister upon his back. All four friends were laughing as feather light snowflakes rained down upon them standing on a street in Hogsmeade. You could just see Honeyduke's in the background with its windows full of sweets all alight, and beyond that the column of smoke rising from the Three Broomstick's chimney.
Hermione watched her picture-self laugh along with the others and turn her head to the side to dodge Ron's hand reaching to pull one of her curls. Harry's laughing smile widened and he reached up to brush the wayward ringlets from her neck. Ginny was giggling as she leaned closer to Hermione in the picture, pulling on the tassels of her brother's cap.
Her friends. If it weren't for them she'd be strapped to a bed in the Infirmary right now, drifting in and out of sleeping potions. She owed them so much more than her love could give.
Her gaze fell from the mantel down into the cavern of her fireplace. Her golden eyes glowed steadily, tinting the whites of her eyes saffron. With a deep breath she opened her mouth...
...and lied through her teeth.
"I'm fine, Professor." She replied in the soft, cool voice. "I expended my energy carelessly this morning. It won't happen again."
The magical projection of her professor's face scowled at her, naturally distrusting the reply that had been too long in coming. "I was merely curious at to how you were dealing after this morning's events."
"I assure you, Professor. I am fine." She repeated."Hermione," The quiet demanding in his tone drew Hermione's eyes. "People who are 'fine' don't ask me to brew The Cleansing Fire."
Hermione's eyes darkened for a moment, "That's why you're here."
"Hermione—"
She cleared her throat. "I'd rather you just do as I requested and not ask questions."
Snape scowled, "I don't need to ask questions. Nothing I could learn from you could persuade me to brew you this potion."
"Professor," She began.
"There's no way you are getting this potion," Snape insisted darkly. "No potion's master will brew this potion and the Order will not allow you to do it yourself."
Hermione's resolve faltered and sadness seeped into her bones. The voices screamed deafeningly, and a hand flew to her temple. An aching pain throbbed in her head.
"Professor." She ground out. His eyes were on her hand. "I'll tell you only once more. You must brew me The Cleansing Fire."
Snape stared stonily back.
"No."
The fire burst outward and Hermione fell backwards to avoid the burning tendrils. When the heat receded she dropped her arm from her eyes and looked upon her fireplace. Empty and golden-orange once more the tiny fire danced cheerily in the grate surrounded by glowing embers. Snape was gone.
Someone was knocking on her door.
She got to her feet slowly, taking the time to compose herself. She was going to brew that potion – regardless of what the Order thought. She closed her eyes. And then she'd be free.
Hermione mustered a half-hearted smile for her friends on the other and opened the door.
"Professor Lupin?"
The homely looking professor smiled warmly at her in greeting. "Hello, Hermione. May I come in?"
"O-of course," She nodded dumbly, stepping aside to allow him entrance. The kind-hearted lycanthrope had been far from who she'd expected to be knocking on her door and his sudden appearance had surprised her.
"I came to see how you were doing." He explained as she turned around. His arms were folded in the sleeves of his robes; still worn and patched as ever. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine." Hermione replied, echoing her earlier words.
"That's debatable." He followed smoothly. "But that's not why I'm here. Harry's worried about you."
Hermione was surprised, "He sent you?"
Lupin chuckled. "No, but it warranted saying."
Hermione looked down, "I see." She sighed. "Professor?"
"Yes, Hermione?"
"I was wondering if I might have the day off," She said, finding a sudden interest in the floor. The mentioning of Harry had thrown her. "...to replenish my energy and recover, sir."
"No."
Hermione's head snapped up in shock, "Wha—"
"Hermione, you're life is spinning wildly out of control." He placed his hands on her shoulders. They comforted her a little. "The best thing for you right now is order."
Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly as her brow furrowed. "Your logic is questionable, Professor."
He was less than intimidated. His eyes twinkled merrily at her from beneath sandy-gray bangs. "Trust me."
Hermione's nose wrinkled, unconvinced. Lupin gave her shoulders a squeeze and drew back. Folding his arms back within his tattered robe, he gave her a knowing smile. "You have two minutes to get to Transfiguration."
Her lips quirked in annoyance. "Professor," She spoke slowly to drive her point across. "I understand the need to continue my training. However, I believe it would be an overall benefit for the entire operation if I were to be allowed the day off."
"There was a time when Hermione Granger wouldn't think twice of arguing with a professor." His tone was more serious, but a soft smile still played upon his lips.
Heat rose in her cheeks. "I mean no disrespect, sir." She murmured.
"One minute."
Hermione's eyebrows arched up. "E-Excuse me?" He couldn't be serious.
"You'd better run, Miss Granger."
Hermione needed only to look at his face before she was tearing out of the room, wand in hand.
It didn't help her any that the Transfiguration classroom was four floors down. Luckily for her she happened to be best friends with two of the schools biggest troublemakers and danger seekers. Wielding her wand with an expert hand she opened the secret passageway near the tower's stairs and ran through it. Emerging from the other side on the third floor she scrambled out from behind the statue of Ethelred the Ever-Ready, who was famous for taking offense at nothing and cursing innocent bystanders.
She took the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping at the bottom, and sprinted across the stone hallways to the Transfiguration room waiting at the very end. She skidded inside the classroom with barely seven seconds to spare and managed to slow down enough to keep from running headlong into her desk. She flopped down into her seat beside Neville, just as the bell began to ring, panting heavily.
"Umm...Hi, Hermione," he squeaked hesitantly. Hermione lifted the bangs back from her eyes and truly smiled for the first time that day.
"Hullo, Neville." She replied warmly. "Don't worry. I was just a little late is all."
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione jumped and looked over her shoulder as Professor McGonagall strode briskly into the room.
"I'm sorry you deem the school uniforms unfit for your use," She said crisply. "Five points from Gryffindor."
Hermione turned pink. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from shouting "it was all Professor Lupin's fault". She doubted McGonagall would believe her nor would she find the outburst amusing. Hermione figured it was best to refrain from comment and accept the deduction. She'd earn the points back easily enough.
Neville visibly relaxed when McGonagall passed by and gave Hermione a toothy grin, "I'm glad you're here, Hermione."
Glancing up to make sure McGonagall was occupied, she placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly, unconsciously mirroring Professor Lupin's earlier actions. "Don't worry, Neville. We'll have you passing Transfiguration in no time."
"T-That's not all..." Neville stammered.
Hermione, who had been adjusting her blouse, straightened and looked at him with soft eyes, encouraging him to go on. "Yes, Neville?"
"I-I'm glad you're my friend." He finally managed. As she stared at him in surprise he patted her shoulder. "And don't worry. Things'll work out."
Hermione smiled widely and wiped the moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand, "Thanks, Neville." She whispered.
"It's what my Gran always tells me." He added, a bit sheepishly.
Hermione laughed softly and roped in her rampant emotions, "Your Gran's a very wise woman."
Neville blushed to his eartips.
Hermione began to copy down the notes McGonagall had magicked onto the board, and as she settled into the reflexive task her mind drifted. Without realizing it, she'd pushed the voices and the pain and the horrible memories of Hope's dimension to the back of her mind and nearly forgotten. She had become Hermione Granger once more. She had begun to move on.
As the neat, printed words were inked across her parchment she focused hard on the trivial task. She refused to let the guilt take hold. She lifted a hand warily to hear chest to reaffirm that her heart was indeed still beating normally. It was.
Despite all that had happened to her, and contrary to her previous beliefs, she was growing stronger. Soon she'd be able to break Voldemort's spell, and then purge her body of Hope.
So very soon she would breathe the free air once more.
Hermione smiled to herself and settled back as McGonagall began the day's lecture.