I'm already half way through the third chapter, but I don't know when I'll finish it. I'll see if I get any reviews for what I have so far… this is the problem with posting huge amounts all at once… you just never know!
(In case you didn't get it, that means I want reviews, dammit!)
Hope you're enjoying yourself! Have fun!
-N
P.S: Need I repeat that I need a title?!? HELP!!!
Ta! ~N
Chapter 2: Rubbing Elbows with the Moon
"Alright, class… time to take your seats." Hermione stood at the front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, eyeing the sixth year Gryffindors carefully. She hardly had any of these students in her Arithmancy class. She silently cursed the full moon. It was just a coincidence that she had to cover for Remus during his short absence. Hermione dreaded teaching defense more than anything. She knew that she was commonly thought of as boring by the students, and she could never hope to measure up to Remus' teaching, especially in this course. After a month of school, Remus had quickly become one of the more popular teachers (as was always the case when he was at Hogwarts). Hermione was not quite so celebrated, but she didn't really mind. Although it had upset her slightly when she'd heard the student's whispers as she entered the classroom in Remus' place. She was certain they were expressing their discontent at having her as a replacement. She opened up Remus' lesson plan.
"Today, we're going to learn about vanishing spells. Vanishing spells can be quite helpful in a battle, but they can also…" She noticed that a pretty brunette girl in the front had her hand up. "Yes, Miss… um…"
"Brown, Violet Brown." Hermione smiled to herself. Lavender's younger sister. She could see it now.
"What is it, Violet?"
"Are you really going to marry Professor Lupin?"
Hermione was caught completely off guard. For a moment, she just stood there, unable to form a sentence, and then she came up with quite an intelligent reply; "Um… What?" Violet repeated her question, and Hermione furrowed her brow. "Um, not to MY knowledge…"
"Oh," Violet seemed disappointed. "I heard a rumor."
"No." Hermione smiled in spite of herself. Rumors spread quickly in this school… she'd have to warn Remus later. "I'm afraid that rumor is completely false. Now, if that's all the questions regarding the personal lives of Professor Lupin and myself, I'd like to get on with the lesson." Another hand went up at the back. This time Hermione consulted the seating plan. "Mr. Hildebrand?"
The young man looked at her anxiously. "Is it true you were best friends with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter?"
The question hit Hermione like a load of bricks. Five months, and she still couldn't hear Harry and Ron's names without feeling like bursting into tears. She was silent for a moment as she composed herself, not trusting herself to talk for fear that she'd start to cry. The class waited with bated breath for her reply. Finally, Hermione took a deep breath and replied, "Yes. Yes I was." She took a shaky breath. "Open your texts to page 149 and read the--"
"Tell us about them!" Violet Brown again. Hermione desperately wanted to drop the subject.
"Ask your sister."
"I did," Violet pouted, "She starts crying every time I bring it up." Hermione clenched her jaw.
"Then ask Professor Lupin or Professor McGonagall. They'll be able to tell you the whole story."
"But they weren't best friends with them," A new student, who looked remarkably like Seamus and had the same Irish brogue, piped up. "Please tell us, Professor Granger!"
A chorus of 'Yes, tell us!' and 'Please, Professor?' arose from the classroom. Hermione figured she might as well tell the story… they'd never stop hounding her. Best to get it over with.
"Alright… What do you want to know?" Almost all the hands shot up at once. Hermione pointed to a pretty redhead in the third row. She could have been a Weasley, so bright was her hair and so freckled was her face. "Yes?"
"Is it really true they were found outside the school?"
"Yes," Hermione said quietly. "Right on the front steps. Hildebrand?"
"How long had you been friends?"
"Since our first year." Hermione thought back. "Well, the end of our first year, anyway. They hated me at first." There were a few laughs at this. Hermione failed to see the humor. "You. Yes?"
"What were they like?"
Hermione took a moment to reflect. "Harry was brave. A little too brave sometimes… He didn't always think hard enough before doing things. But he always did his best. He was the sweetest, kindest person I've ever known, and despite all the rotten luck he'd had in his life, he always managed to make the best of things. Ron was the most stubborn boy I'd ever seen, but he was also the most loyal and the most caring. He may not have seemed like the brightest crayon in the box, but he was truly a great wizard, not to mention a strategic genius. The were both the best friends anyone could ever hope for." Hermione pushed back the tears that were threatening to fall. Violet had her hand up again. "Yes, Violet?"
"Lavender won't tell me, but… Is it true that they were… you know, lovers?"
Hermione almost laughed. "Yes. In hindsight, it's a wonder I didn't see it all along. I was so shocked when I finally figured it out… but I STILL worked it through before they did! That's one thing I forgot to mention… they were both completely clueless sometimes. But once they figured it out and got used to the idea, it was like they'd never been without each other a day in their lives. They loved each other more than any other couple I can think of."
"Even you and Professor Lupin?" It was the Seamus-look-alike again. Hermione rolled her eyes. Definitely a Finnigan.
"I believe we were talking about Harry and Ron, not Professor Lupin and myself. Anyone else?"
There were many more questions about Harry and Ron's personal life as well as their school days and the battles Hermione had fought with them. After a long while, a brunette in the front row put up her hand. Hermione nodded to her. "What did the autopsy list as the cause of death?"
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. She searched her memory for the answer, but couldn't come up with it, no matter how hard she tried. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more certain she became that she'd never even been told the cause of death. She'd just assumed they'd been beaten to death from the look of the corpses. But suddenly, she wasn't so sure. "You know, I can't say that I really know. I never saw the autopsy… it was classified information at the time, and I guess we all just assumed that they'd been beaten to death. That was certainly the way it looked." Hermione glanced up at the clock. "It's almost the end of class… why don't I let you all go a few minutes early?" The students thanked her and left the room quickly, leaving Hermione alone to ponder the last question. It suddenly seemed odd to her that she'd never known the actual cause of death. Hermione packed up her texts and her lesson plans and left the classroom, heading for her next destination; the hospital wing. Perhaps she could shed some light on this mystery that had suddenly befallen her.
*****
Hermione managed feed Madame Pomfrey a line about needing Remus' old medical records due to a complication with this month's dose of wolf's bane. After Poppy had been satisfied that it was nothing serous and that Hermione and Severus could handle it, she let Hermione into the records room and left her to her own devices.
After pulling Remus' file to cover her tracks, Hermione moved over a couple cabinets to the file containing letters P-R. She riffled through the files until she came to a particularly thick one; Potter, Harry. Putting the file on top of her books, she moved to the W-Z file and located Ron's file, which was somewhat thinner but by no means small. She tucked both files inside Remus', left the records room, bid Poppy a quick goodbye and headed for her rooms.
Once inside, Hermione sat down at her desk and took out the two files. At the very back, she found both autopsy reports. She shoved the files aside roughly and began to scour Harry's.
Severe head trauma… Deep lacerations at the wrists and ankles… burn wounds and lacerations throughout. Possible neurological damage… fragments of skull lodged in frontal lobe… Hermione skipped over the gory details to the very end of the report, where it was written in capital letters, CAUSE OF DEATH: UNDETERMINED.
Hermione frowned. This was very strange. An autopsy almost always revealed the cause of death. She picked up Ron's autopsy report, which, eerily enough, was almost identical. She skimmed down to the end of the report. CAUSE OF DEATH: UNDETERMINED. Hermione set down the report, now in a state of complete consternation. Something was amiss with these reports… she just couldn't put her finger on what. She opened Harry's report again, this time flipping to the vital stats.
Male, 21 years of age, Hair: Black, Eyes: Green. 5'11", 165lbs. Race: Caucasian. Blood type: O negative. Hermione nodded to herself. That was all correct as far as she could remember. She turned to Ron's vital stats.
Male, 21 years of age, Hair: Red, Eyes: Blue. 6'4", 172lbs. Race: Caucasian. Blood type: B positive. Hermione frowned again. Something was wrong with that, but she couldn't put her finger on what. Hermione put her head down on her desk. This was not working. How was she supposed to figure out what was wrong with this autopsy if she couldn't remember anything about her best friends?
*****
Hermione poked her head into the bedroom she shared with Remus. He was still sleeping, exhausted from the previous night's full moon. She was just about to leave when he opened his eyes and squinted at her.
"H…" He cleared his throat. "Hey."
Hermione smiled sympathetically. "It was a bad one last night, was it?" Remus nodded. She walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, running her fingers through his graying hair. "I wish there was a way to make it easier for you."
"You do," He smiled up at her. "I love you, you know."
"I know." She kissed his forehead. "I love you too." Remus noticed that, while she seemed sincere enough, she was also quite distracted.
"You've got something big on your mind again, haven't you?" Hermione shrugged.
"Maybe."
Remus sighed. He'd seen Hermione get like this before, when she was working on some sort of problem. He knew she'd barely sit down until she'd figured it out. "Tell me."
"Not right now. I don't want to tire you out… you're already in bad shape."
"You'll only tire yourself out by thinking about whatever it is all alone."
"That's inconsequential," Hermione replied. "Now get some rest and stop trying to be the voice of reason."
Remus shook his head and sat up. "I've been sleeping all day… I'm barely even tired anymore. So tell me."
Hermione glared mockingly at him. "Liar. Fine, I'll tell you. I've run out of arguments anyway." She sighed heavily, recalling her problem. "It's about Harry and Ron. Today your sixth year Gryffindors decided to bombard me with questions about them."
"Oh gods."
"Tell me about it. Anyway, I decided it was futile to try and avoid their interrogation… Gryffindors are persistent to a fault, I would know that better then anyone. Anyway, one girl asked what the official cause of death was, and I realized that none of us were ever really told for sure, we all just assumed we knew. So I went and borrowed the autopsy reports. And do you know what I found?"
Remus dreaded to even think about it. "No idea."
"It said 'Cause of death: unknown'. Don't you think that's strange?"
Remus frowned pensively. "It is fairly uncommon… but perhaps the bodies were too far damaged to tell."
"Perhaps. But there was something else that bothered me about the reports. I can't figure out what it was, nothing is really sticking out, but the part that looks wrong to me is the physical stats. Something just doesn't seem right."
"What are you suggesting?"
"I don't know…" Hermione shook her head. "I just think there's more to their deaths than we've been thinking. I have a feeling about this… there's dirty work afoot."
"Of course there is," Remus replied. "Two wizards were murdered! I think that qualifies as 'Dirty work'."
"No, no… that's not what I meant." Hermione looked him in the eye. "There's something more to this, Remus, and whatever it is, I swear I'll find it out.
The Next Week…"I'm glad you called me… we've barely talked in months!" Ginny sat across the table from Hermione, who was playing with her salad absent-mindedly.
"Oh, you know… I thought we should catch up, have a little girl time, just the two of us." Ginny smiled at her old friend. She had begun to think that Hermione had only been her friend because of her brother.
"Well, I'm definitely glad to see you again." Ginny picked worriedly at her meal. "I was beginning to worry."
Hermione shook her head. "If it's me you're worried about, don't. I'm doing just fine… I'm young, I have a steady job that I just adore, and I'm in love."
"With Professor Lupin!" Ginny giggled. "That's so weird!"
"How?" Hermione always got indignant when people criticized her relationship with Remus.
"Oh, I didn't really mean in a bad way, just…" Ginny shrugged. "In an unexpected way, I guess. I actually think you guys are great for each other… I just never would have thought of it, that's all."
Hermione smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that… I get a bit defensive sometimes." Ginny nodded understandingly.
"I know how it is, don't worry. We've all been there."
Hermione took a sip of her butterbeer. "So, how are things going with you?"
"Very well, thank the gods! Ever since last year's scare I've been rushing to the hospital every time I felt the tiniest pain."
That's Right, Thought Hermione, mentally kicking herself. Ginny had had a horrible few months about a year ago when the doctors had all though she had cancer in her left kidney. It had turned out that it was just a benign cist, but it was still a frightening experience for Ginny and her family and friends.
"Do you know that, despite the fact that I come from the biggest family on the planet, Ron was the only one of my brothers and my parents who was even a potential donor?" Hermione nodded; she'd remembered Ron's reaction to the news. He'd almost been proud that he was the one who got to help save his sister. "Mmhm," Ginny continued, "We were the only two out of everyone who even had the same blood type."
Hermione did a double take. "What did you say?"
Ginny looked at her strangely. "I said, 'We were the only ones with the same blood type'. Why?" she looked up and caught Hermione's odd expression. "Are you alright?"
"Blood type," Hermione whispered to herself. "Yes, yes…" Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "I'm fine." She paused. "Um, Ginny, just what IS your blood type?"
"O negative," Ginny replied, looking at Hermione like she was nuts.
Hermione frowned. "Um, Gin… look, I'm really sorry but I have to go right now… I, uh, just remembered something I have to do at the school. Here, this should cover the bill." She got up, muttering her apologies, and practically flew out the door, leaving behind an unfinished salad and a stunned Ginny Weasley.
*****
Hermione flipped through Ron's autopsy report. She knew it was in there somewhere. Blood type, blood type… Hermione found the vital stats section. Blood type: B Positive. Hermione narrowed her eyes. Ginny had said she and Ron were O negative! Hermione grabbed Harry's autopsy report and found his vital stats. Blood Type: O Negative. Hermione closed the report, puzzled. Harry had Ron's blood type. It didn't make any sense. Struck by a sudden thought, Hermione opened Harry's file and took out the first page, a sheet from when Harry had first enrolled at Hogwarts containing his entire medical history to that point. Hermione skimmed over it until she found the blood type. B Positive. So Harry and Ron's blood types had somehow gotten mixed up… but how? Perhaps, if the autopsies had been done at the same time, their blood had somehow gotten mixed up. Hermione saw the autopsy date on Harry's report; May 25. She turned to Ron's report. May 26. There was no way the blood types had gotten mixed up with that time difference. Another theory down the drain.
Blood types don't just change, Hermione thought angrily. This was beginning to get annoying. Someone had messed with the bodies of her two best friends. She was NOT too pleased, to say the least.
It was at that moment that
Hermione noticed something else at the back of Harry's file. She pulled
on it, and out came an envelope full of pictures. The front of the envelope was
clearly marked 'Autopsy Photos'. Hermione pushed back her feelings
of disgust and pulled out the pictures. She felt like vomiting at the sight of
Harry's bloody body, but she told herself matter-of-factly that she
needed to do this to find out what was wrong with Harry and Ron's deaths.
She surveyed several photos before something stopped her. It was a picture of
Harry's corpse from the front. Hermione grabbed the magnifying glass from
her desk drawer and held it over Harry's left hipbone. The skin was
barely broken here, only bruised. Hermione narrowed her eyes, hardly believing
what she was seeing. In his seventh year at Hogwarts, Harry had gotten a small
tattoo on his hipbone. Hermione had drawn him the design and knew it off by
heart. It was a small black rose with a thorny stem and a single leaf. Hermione
looked closer. Now she KNEW something wasn't right. She'd been
there when he'd gotten the tattoo, she knew the design off by heart. A
black rose with one leaf. She put the magnifying glass down and threw the
picture aside, burying her face in her hands. She KNEW that design, she'd
drawn it herself.
The
tattoo in the picture had two leafs. Two.
Hermione was beginning to wonder if she knew ANYTHING anymore.
*****
"I can't believe I'm doing this." Hermione rubbed her arms through the thin material of her jacket. It was surprisingly chilly for mid October. She fumbled with her key ring, her frozen fingers not functioning very well, until she found the key she was looking for. It was a big, old-fashioned brass key. Hermione inserted it into the lock and pulled up on the storage unit's huge sliding door. After groaning in protest, it slid up just far enough for Hermione to duck beneath it. She pulled out her wand. The unit was dark inside.
"Lumos," She whispered, wondering why she was keeping her voice so low. After all, it wasn't like there was anyone around, and even if there had been, she had nothing to hide. She DID have the key. She had a right to be there if she wanted. She was the sole owner of all of Harry and Ron's property that hadn't been distributed to their other family and friends. Hermione gazed around the dimly lit storage unit. She didn't know what she'd hoped to accomplish by looking through it's contents, only that maybe she might find something that would help her solve the growing mystery surrounding her best friends' deaths. She bypassed several boxes marked "clothes", shoved two large crates containing kitchenware out of the way and had a quick look at a box marked "school" Which contained several old text books and supplies before she struck gold; a large pile of boxes marked "Personal".
The first box contained a big stack of photo albums, which Hermione browsed and then put aside with the idea of taking them back to Hogwarts with her. The second contained a cornucopia of miscellaneous junk including letters, awards, and gifts that Harry and Ron had given each other over the years. The third box that Hermione went through contained an embarrassingly extensive array of sex toys. Hermione jumped and quickly shut the box, a blush creeping to her cheeks. It wasn't until the forth box that she made her big discovery.
They were beneath wads of pages from the Daily Prophet, well protected by the scrunched up newspaper. Hermione pulled at one of the two polished wooden boxes, dislodging it from its protective wrappings. She studied it carefully before finally realizing what it was. A Mortality box. She heard of them before. She didn't have one herself, but many wizards did. It was almost like a will, in a way. The only person who could open the Mortality box while the owner was alive was the owner themselves. After the wizard's death, the box could be opened by anyone except those whom it was specifically spelled against. Inside, the wizard or witch kept letters, messages or trinkets to be distributed to various different people after their death. Sort of an "If you're reading this, I'm already dead" type thing. Hermione hadn't known that Harry and Ron had kept them, but looking back, it DID seem like something they would have done. Curious as to why no one had thought of it before, she reached down to open the lid.
It stuck.
Hermione furrowed her brow. Weren't mortality boxes supposed to open effortlessly after the death? She pulled on the lid again. Still stuck. This time she pulled on both the bottom and the top. Nothing. She picked up the other box and turned it over a couple times. It was quite nicely decorated, just like the other one. This one's hinges were shaped like tiny lions. She pulled on the lid. Instead of opening, one of the lion hinges came to life and bit her finger quite hard. Hermione yelped and dropped the box. She stared at the box in awe. Why wasn't it opening? Harry and Ron were dead, weren't they? Surely their mortality boxes should be opening. Unless…
Unless they were spelled against her. Hermione frowned. Why would Harry and Ron have done that? Especially after willing almost all of their things to her. She was their best friend. They would never have done that. Maybe the boxes were malfunctioning. That had to be it. After all, the boxes had to open unless the owner was alive.
Unless the owner was alive.
Hermione shook her head to rid herself of the thought. Ron and Harry were dead. That was a fact. Everyone knew it. They'd all seen the bodies. There had even been an autopsy… she'd read the report.
The blood types, a little voice in the back of her mind reminded her, and the tattoo. She pushed the voice back. Maybe the blood types were just a mistake. And maybe she'd seen the photo wrong. She should look at it again.
No. Poppy Pomfrey had done the autopsies herself, and in all the years Hermione had known her, she'd never once seen the woman make such a stupid mistake. It just didn't happen. And she knew she'd seen the picture correctly. She'd studied it for quite a while. And now the mortality boxes. She couldn't be sure of anything anymore.
*****
"Good evening, Harry."
Harry attempted to roll over. He
was still on the floor where he'd been for… what was it? Months?
Years? He didn't even know. The only times he'd moved were when
they'd tortured him. He'd gotten up to go to the bathroom in a
small, rusted bucket in the corner of the room. He'd almost gotten used
to living like this, almost forgotten his other life. He almost forgot his
house, his friends. He'd almost forgotten Ron.
Ron.
It was painful to think of Ron like this,
but Harry was sure Voldemort had killed him long ago. He knew he was the only
one Voldemort was really interested in. And although it hurt him more than
anything they'd done to him so far to think of life without Ron, He knew
it would be even worse if Ron had had to endure what Harry was enduring right
now.
Voldemort was standing over him. "Don't you think it's time you gave this up, Harry? Look at you. You're pathetic, worthless. What are you accomplishing by lying here like this? I think it's just about time you put an end to it all. The way I see it, you have two choices: One, give me what I want. All it takes is one word, just one, and everything will be made right again. We'll heal your wounds, clean you up. I can fix it all. All you have to do is say you'll give me what I want."
"No," Harry whispered, and then, more forcefully, "Fuck you."
Voldemort's expression turned to stone. "Then die. Just stop resisting. We've tried to kill you, Harry, but you're just not dying. If you won't give me what I want, then I'm not going to give what you want: a quick, painless death. Oh, I could…" Voldemort raised his wand. "I could kill you right now and be rid of you. All it takes is a wave of the wand and two simple words. Avada--" Voldemort dropped the wand to his side, smiling evilly. "No, I don't think so. That's too easy, isn't it?"
"Haven't you hurt me enough?" Harry spat angrily. "Just kill me."
"No," Voldemort said. "What were your words? Ah yes… 'Fuck You'".
Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He heard Voldemort sweep out of the room and mutter something to a death eater who was standing outside the door. Seconds later, Harry felt someone else staring at him. He opened his eyes. It was Lucius Malfoy.
"Well, well…" Lucius grinned wickedly, leaning against the doorway. "If I didn't know it was you, I'd never have recognized the Great Harry Potter." He shook his head. "You're a mess, aren't you? Pathetic, really. The other one's not nearly as bad… at least you can still recognize him by that awful hair and those horrid freckles. Well, goodbye, Potter. I hope they DO get you, and soon. Even I'm not that cruel." The door slammed shut.
Harry hadn't even heard the last few sentences. He was caught on something Lucius had said. That awful hair and those horrid freckles… the other one… Harry breathed in sharply.
Ron… Ron was alive.
Harry knew what he had to do.
"Malfoy!" Harry's voice didn't come out nearly as loudly as he would have liked it to. "Malfoy!"
Lucius' face appeared at the small barred opening in the door. "What is it, Potter?"
"Send for your master. I have something to tell him."
*****
"Remus!" Hermione slammed the door to their rooms with no small amount of trouble, yelling her lover's name rather loudly. "Where are you?"
Remus peeked around the bedroom doorframe into the outer chambers. "Hey. What's wrong?" He hurried over to Hermione and grabbed some of the boxes she was carrying. "What's all this?"
"It's Harry and Ron's," Hermione began. Remus set down the box he was holding rather forcefully and looked her in the eye.
"Hermione, I thought we agreed we were going to try and put that all behind us."
"Yes, but I just couldn't stop thinking about the autopsy results, Remus. Something's wrong, something big."
Remus rolled his eyes. "People make mistakes, Hermione. Are you telling me you've never reversed umbers or words when you were writing down the results of something? I used to teach you, remember? I KNOW you have."
"That's different… I've never made a mistake THAT big. And there's something else."
Remus looked at her steadily. "Hermione, love…"
"No, listen!" Hermione picked up one of the mortality boxes and held it out so that Remus could clearly see what it was. "You know what this is, don't you?" Remus nodded slowly.
"A mortality box. Why? Is it Harry's or Ron's?" Hermione turned the box over to show him the inscription on the bottom. Harry James Potter. Before Remus could touch it, Hermione pulled it back towards her, arched an eyebrow at her lover and tugged on the top as hard as she could. Remus frowned slightly.
"Are you sure the lid's not just stuck?" Hermione shook her head.
"I must have tried it a million times. It won't open."
Remus found this news more than a little unsettling. "It must be spelled against you. I don't know why it would be, but…" He drifted off. "Here, let me have a go." He took the box out of Hermione's hands and tried to open it, with much the same results as his lover. "I don't understand, Hermione… why would Harry spell his mortality box against us?"
Hermione seemed to have no answer to this question except "They wouldn't." Remus sighed heavily.
"Hermione, they MUST have! Otherwise they would have opened when we tried… you know that!"
Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes. "I DON'T know that for sure, Remus… I don't know ANYTHING for sure! All I know is that my friends are gone and I don't know what happened to them, how they died or if they're even DEAD, and I can't--"
"Hermione, stop this," Remus set the box down on the desk and grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "Harry and Ron are dead. You know that as well as I do. You saw the bodies, the photographs of the autopsy; you were there when they were lowered into the ground. I know it's hard to let go of them, but you have to. Enough of this foolishness… just stop playing detective and let it go." Underneath his hands, Hermione's shoulders shook with the emotions she was repressing. Remus looked at her face, his eyes softening, and pulled her into his arms. "Gods… you're much more upset than I thought over this. I thought you were getting better." He kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry, love… I'm going to get you the help you need." Hermione pulled away from him, furious.
"I don't need help!" She cried angrily. "I don't WANT help! Don't you get it, Remus? I want to know what happened to Harry and Ron!" Hot, angry tears ran down her cheeks, and she wiped them away hurriedly. "I'm NOT stopping until I figure it all out. I don't care what you say!"
Remus put out a hand to protect himself and slowly began to walk towards her. "Hermione, just calm down--"
Hermione made a strangled noise in the back of her throat and slapped Remus' hand away. "You're not listening!" She gathered up the two mortality boxes and started towards the door. "If you won't listen, then I'm going to find someone who will!" She slammed the door behind her, causing several of the portraits in the hall to jump. Hermione glared at the pictures before storming off down the hall. At the large gargoyle statue, Hermione stopped, straightened her robes and muttered "Red Hots". I'll talk to Dumbledore… her always understands. Yes, Dumbledore is sure to listen.
*****
"Well my dear, I'm sure there's an explanation for this." Hermione frowned at the headmaster.
"It doesn't seem suspicious to you?"
Dumbledore sighed pensively. "Hermione, you have always had a sharp and inquisitive mind. But sometimes there are things that just can't be rationalized. Sometimes you just have to take things at face value and accept them for what they are. It is never easy to do this, but sometimes it's something that simply must be done." The headmaster gave his youngest professor a kindly look. "Perhaps it would be best if you just let it go."
For a moment, Hermione just stared at him numbly. "I… I don't understand…" Dumbledore smiled sadly.
"My dear, you are still in mourning. I know it's hard not to want them to come back somehow, but the fact of the matter is that you can't bring them back, no matter how you rationalize it." The headmaster sighed again, looking every bit his age for once. "It was not their time. They should not have been taken when they were. Perhaps that is why you're so unwilling to let them go. But the fact is, sometimes these things just… happen. It's one of the more tragic facts of life, I'm afraid. All we can do is mourn their loss and hope that someday we shall see them again."
Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was Dumbledore against her too? "What about the boxes, Albus? Why would Harry and Ron spell their boxes against Remus and I? And why on earth would they spell them against YOU?"
"That, my dear, it a question that only Ron and Harry would be able to answer. And I'm afraid we'll never be able to ask them."
Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes again. Dumbledore mistook her frustration and anger for sadness over her friends' deaths. "Take heart, Hermione… Their lives may be over, but that is no reason for you to spend the rest of yours in mourning. It is not what they would have wanted." Hermione nodded slowly. It was clear to her now that no one would understand. She would have to do this on her own.
"Thank you, professor. You have been a great help."
*****
"I'm beginning to lose my patience with you, Potter." Voldemort's tall form appeared before Harry in the doorway. "I've been nothing but lenient with you so far. I'd suggest that you make this good, or my tolerance might give out." Harry tried his best not to glare disgustedly, opting instead to paste a remorseful, almost repentant look on his face.
"I've made a decision," He said slowly and painfully. Voldemort raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing, and Harry took it as a cue for him to continue. "I've decided…" Harry felt his throat go dry, and he couldn't speak for a moment. "I've decided to give you what you want."
Voldemort was stunned. Outwardly, he only showed the slightest signs of surprise, but Harry, who'd been looking for a reaction, could see that the dark Lord was as close to being shocked as he'd ever be. Harry, encouraged, continued.
"Everything you've said was right. I have no other choice. I am dead to the world, my lover is gone, and I have nothing left." He paused. "Nothing but you."
Voldemort stepped towards the younger man. For years and years, ever since he'd seen Harry Potter as a young man, he'd lusted over him. Not only because Harry was an attractive and captivating young man, but because of what it would mean of Voldemort to take possession of something so perfect, so pure. The ultimate triumph over the light, to take their golden boy and mark him, soil him, make him his own. And now that he was getting this offer from the boy himself, who was he to turn it down? True, the boy was only doing this because he had no other option but pain and death, and he almost certainly had ulterior motives, but Voldemort was just as smart as the boy, if not smarter, and he would not let his lust control him. He was the one in charge here. He stood above Potter, looking him over appraisingly, and then, without one word to the boy, turned away. He could almost see Harry's face, creased in pained confusion at this apparent refusal. Voldemort smiled to himself, knowing that it would only increase the boy's gratitude later on if he thought that the was less of a chance of Voldemort taking him in. Voldemort's smile grew. He'd let the boy spend one more night in agony before sending his healers to him. And then… then the real fun would begin.