CHAPTER FIVE
Even before McGonagal made the announcement, the entire school seemed to know the news. Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley were dead, their lives taken by their own hands. Sympathetic eyes were cast at the Griffindor and Slytherin tables. For the first time in the history of Hogwarts, snide remarks and malicious chortles weren't thrown between the two houses. Instead of throwing blame around and pointing fingers, all of the students bonded together in mutual sorrow at losing two of their best students.
Ron said nothing at dinner, but just stared at the chicken leg on his plate and shivered in silent pain. Harry gripped his hand tightly and refused to let it go, even when the red head tried to shove him away. Professor McGonagal stared out at the sea of students with a deep sense of regret in her eyes. Somehow the Great Hall seemed empty without the cool smirk of Draco and the bright, cheerful smile of Ginny. Taking a deep breath, she raised one gold knife to her wine goblet and clinked to call for silence. They all fell in the hole of quiet almost instantly.
"Last night, we lost two of our very best students," she started out. A few kids sniffed, and Ginny's best friend Amanda Bloom sobbed loudly. To her great surprise, Crabbe reached across the isle and patted her comfortingly on the shoulder with a meaty hand. "Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley were both amazing students and wonderful people. They will both be missed. I think we should take this opportunity to examine our own lives, and our own happiness. I'm sure Draco and Ginny wouldn't want us to make the same fatal decision they made..."
Harry felt Ron tense in his hand, and then he burst.
"This is total bullshit!" Ron yelled out. All eyes in the room focused solely on him. Hearts everywhere broke even more at the overwhelming pain etched on his face. Slowly he rose up, staring each and every person in the eye. McGonagal didn't even try to stop him. "You wanna know why they killed themselves? Because they were in love, and they couldn't be together. Because Malfoy was rich and we're poor, because he was a Slytherin and she a Griffindor, and no one would accept them."
Several people shifted uncomfortably in their seats and tried to look away, but Ron glared fiercely at them. "But honestly people, what's the big deal? Slytherins and Griffindors have hated each other for years, and what has it gotten us? My sister is dead, and it's because of everyone's hate. I say that's shit. Why can't we just be civilized and stop hating each other? Stop discriminating against each other?"
His strong voice echoed through the rafters, and resonated through the hearts of everyone in the room. In the silence gaping, a nameless Slytherin voice screamed out, "Griffindor rules!" A general uproar erupted from the Slytherin table after that: shouts of praise, whistles, applause, all directed towards the house that was fomerly their nemesis.
Harry filled with pride at this and smiled up at Ron. He caused this. His beautiful, wonderful boyfriend had, using the grief thrown at him by fate, breached the rift that generations had opened. The brown-haired wizard stood up then, next to Ron, and laced their their fingers together right there, in front of the entire school. It was time everyone else knew. Ron smiled over at him sweetly, and lifted their hands to his lips and kissed the back of Harry's gently. Whispers arose around them and for a moment the room felt hushed, but the shock quickly passed and Seamus Finnegan whistled loudly and began to applaud. Even Hermione, who hadn't smiled for real in months, started giggling like a little girl, and applauded for her two best friends. Kara Naber, a little blonde girl from Slytherin house, stood up on the table with Colin Creevey. Holding hands, they began spinning around in mad circles, knocking over plates of food and goblets as they went. For the first time since he received the news of his sister's death, Ron felt a marvelous sense of happiness. In the wake of such a horrible tragedy, a wonderful revelation had occurred.
Darkness consumed the courtyard, giving way only to the silvery curtain of moonlight that swept down onto the grass and stone of the ground. As the rest of the students continued on in their almost-drunken revelries, Harry and Ron stole away to the solitude of this empty place, desperate for a moment alone. Half-mad with desire and raging hormones, Harry dragged ron into the silent square and shoved him forcefully onto a marble bench. He jumped him instantly, half-tackling him and crushing their lips together. Ron lay half-reclined on the bench, eyes shut in pleasure, as Harry moved lower, reining kisses along his jawline. His deft fingers worked quickly to unfasten his tie and moved to pull the hem of his shirt from the waist band of his charcoal pants. Heat flared up from where his fingertips brushed against his pale skin. Ron's breath caught as Harry brought their lips together and kissed him so deeply his head spun.
"Harry," Ron breathed out his name huskily, and shifted so that Harry was half laying on top of him...
"Ow ow!" a cackling shout shattered the thick atmosphere. Instantly Harry pulled away and both boys looked up, horrified, to see three students staring down at them with huge grins. Ron sighed and leaned back, disappointed. Another perfectly wonderful moment ruined.
"Yep," he muttered. "We're cursed."
Harry let out a shaky laugh and squeezed Ron's hand a final time. Damn it all to hell. It was hopeless.
"I just thought of something," Harry burst out suddenly. Ron and Hermione looked up curiously. "Cho," Harry continued, gesturing animatedly.
Ron glanced at Hermione in confusion. "What about Cho?"
"The curse!" he shook his head disbelievingly. "It was her this whole time! I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner..."
Hermione stopped him, hesitantly putting her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Are you sure Cho could... do something like this? It's be an awfully complicated spell..."
Harry frowned at her. "Look, I know it's her; I feel it in my gut, okay? You should've seen her face when me and Ron kissed in the Great Hall!" he ranted. "It's gotta be her, I've got to go find her!" Jumping up, he ran out of the room and into the hallway. He heard Ron and Hermione's footsteps close behind him.
He'd know something was up the moment he'd seen Cho run out of the assembly that day. Her beautiful, brown-flecked eyes had filled with tears that ran down her smooth, soft face, the face that Harry had once desired so much. But even last year seemed like miles away from today. He'd been a different person, and so had she. Still, it was hard to believe that Cho could do such a thing to him, but who else could it be? Who could want Ron and Harry apart more than she would?
His feet pounded on the floor beneath him as he rounded the last flight of stairs. Heart beating like a madman, he spotted one of Cho's friends, Diana, he thought her name was.
"Hey," Harry panted. He knew he must look a mess with his face all flushed and robes twisted around his legs, but at the moment he didn't care. "D'ya know where Cho is?"
"Diana" smiled, her dark eyes shining with humor, as if she knew a secret that she was dying to share with him. "I dunno," she said, though he was quite positive she did know, "but I think she went down the hallway to the left with Seamus Finnigan."
Something in that struck a chord with Harry, but he didn't pay much attention to it. He dashed in the direction the girl had described. Unfortunately, it was a long, narrow hallway with five doors. Really. Harry was not in the mood to play "choose the right door."
He opened one door. It was completely empty. Going on to the next one, he found McGonagal and Crabbe going at it in a corner. He gasped and quickly shut the door in shock. "Ookay," he murmured. Hermione and Ron came up behind him.
"What is it?" Ron asked.
Harry shook his head laughingly. "Don't ask. Just don't go in there."
When he came to the next door, his laughter was growing again. From the sounds coming from inside this room (which he knew was a closet), there were people having sex in there. Loudly, as well. Which pretty much ruled out Cho and Seamus... Unless...
He jerked the door open. Two naked, sweaty bodies stared out at him, seemingly paralyzed. Every one of their limbs was entangled. Cho's smooth, pretty face and amber eyes, that Harry had envisoned just a moment before, gaped at him in shock. Seamus on the other hand, glared at Harry angrily. His face was flushed and he had red lipstick rubbed all around his mouth.
Harry couldn't move. Even if he had imagined this situation, he couldn't have imagined how much it hurt him. He was over Cho completely; he loved Ron now, only wanted to be with him. So what was this deep, gut-wrenching pain that was tightening in his chest? Was he actually resentful that Cho had found someone after him?
He wasn't sure, but he couldn't bring himself to shut the door again. His hand balled up into a fist as he stood there awkwardly.
Finally Seamus spoke. "Harry, what are you doing, standing there?" he hissed. "Shut the door!" His face was slowly reddening.
Somehow Seamus's words brought Harry back to reality. He slammed the door and turned stiffly around to face Ron and Hermione. Ron's eyes studied Harry's face significantly, brows pulled together in worry. Hermione, on the other hand, stood staring at the door much as Harry had, eyes wide in shock. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she blinked quickly to rid herself of them.
"I'm sorry, I've gotta go," she whispered, her voice thick. She turned on her heels and ran off.
"W-what was that about?" Harry stuttered, dazed and confused.
Ron faced him squarely, still studying his face. "I don't know," he said slowly, suspiciously. "What was that about?"
Hermione shuddered and tried to fight back the sobs that were racking her body, but she couldn't. Seamus... with Cho... not her? She'd thought... She'd hoped... She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but all she knew was seeing Seamus with someone else was just so painful, so wrong. Suddenly she found herself remembering the way she felt with him, like she was beautiful and classy, not like the school tramp.
She remembered his face as he sat in that closet, the bitter expression that crossed his face as soon as his eyes met her face. Did he really hate her that much? Did he really want to be with Cho after all they'd shared? Could he ever look at her again the way he did once?
She shook her head. She couldn't think about it right now. She'd rejected him. She didn't want to be in a relationship beyond their sexuality... At least that was what she'd thought, but now her jealousy was unbearably painful. Swallowing tightly, she began to desperately crave attention. She'd vowed to change her ways, but her desires were always so much stronger than her will. She had to get out of there. But where would she go?
Professor Snaps's room, she decided. He knew exactly what she wanted from him. There was no emotion conflict like with Seamus...
No. No! She wouldn't think about that. She had to get to his chambers, and quickly. She tugged up her skirt readily and ran as quickly as she could down the halls, not paying attention to the strange looks she was getting. She wiped away tears and knocked on the roughly-edged door slightly nervously. To her surprise, it opened on its own.
Shyly, Hermione stepped inside his room. It ws sparsely decorated; the only pieces of furniture in the entire place were a lamp, a bed frame, and a dark, fuzzy rug. But, she knew from experience, it served him well when he put it to use.
She moved towards the sound coming from his bathroom, ready to come up behind him and surprise him. He seemed to be talking to himself in a maniacal way, a way that sent chills down her spine. She'd never heard him like this before... She was catching on to what he was saying...
"The pathetic boy... The stupid, pathetic boy!" he was crying out, not loudly but with clear menace. "Going after his ex-girlfriend... As if that imbecile could ever pull off something that complicated!" Hermione gasped as she realized Snaps was talking about Harry. It was as if he knew who was cursing Harry, and he was allowing it. Maybe even taking part in it. "Potter, Potter, Potter..." He was laughing now, harshly. "Accusing that pathetically insecure girl... That Hermione... Of doing it! She couldn't possibly have done it with all the time she spends whoring herself out to every guy in the school! He's not even close to the truth!" She inhaled sharply, and tears filled her eyes. This couldn't come at a worse time. A stabbing pain sparked through her chest. "He'll never know... And never be able to stop me... How could her, with my excellent disguise?... Lord Voldemort has finally won!"
Hermione gasped again and stupidly stepped into the bathroom from behind him. She knew it was dangerous, but her anger and hurt overrided her concern for her own well-being. If she didn't stop him... Lord Voldemort, it seemed... Harry could be in great danger. But stepping inside, the Professor--er, Voldemort-- looked totally different than he did before.
Of course, she had never seen him out of drag, but in her strangest dream, she couldn't have imagined him looking like he did. Long, pale fingers were tightly balled into sharp-knuckled fists with petruding blackened nails. His black man's robe failed to hide the frail, skeletal structure of his shoulders and arms. In the mirror, she looked at the black, insect-like eyes that she had actually been attracted to before, now sticking out pointedly in a sunken, yellowed face, his think bloodred lips curled into a menacing growl. It was frightening, the magic of make-up.
Shaking, she tried to back out of the room, but in the mirror, Voldemort's eyes met hers coldly. A sense of dread filled her chest as his face became more sane, more under control. Somehow this only made him more alarming.
"Hello, Hermione," his inhuman voice growled.
She gulped, panicked eyes looking around for an escape. "I've got to leave," she explained hurriedly, and turned to run away. His bony fingers grabbed her arm.
"Leaving so soon?" The now unfamiliar, thin lips of Voldemort pouted. "But we never even started... you know..." He pushed her against the wall with surprising strength, pressing the length of his body painfully against her. Tears began to run down her face, and she couldn't bear to met his eyes.
Hermione stared at the floor. "Please," she begged, "please, let me go. I swear I won't tell Harry... Or anyone... Please?" She somehow willed her eyes to meet his beady, evil ones. "Please?" she asked again, her voice once again thick with tears.
At first his only response was a bitter laugh. Then he spoke chillingly: "You are a terrible liar, girl. Something will have to be done with you..."
"Please," she interrupted. "Don't kill me! Didn't you like me?..." When she got no response, she broke down. "Oh God!" she cried. "Oh God, I'm going to die!" She slumped into Voldemort's clinging grasp, giving up. Her chest tightened in pain and she couldn't breathe for fear of dying. This was it. Would Harry and Ron even notice if she was gone? Probably not. She effectively cut out any trace of friendship she had with anyone over the summer, and now she would die in the horribly empty world she had created. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the pain to come...
Wood splinter against wood as the door was thrown open and the deafening bang resonated through the room. Both Voldemort and Hermione frozed mid-action and stared towards the door to see Professor Snape stumbling in, a joint in hand, obviously stoned off his ass. In a reflex, the Dark Lord let go of Hermione, and she scrambled toward the exit, but Snape was too far gone to notice anything wrong. Voldemort lunged back towards the banity in his bathroom and grabbed a silk floral robe and quickly threw it on over his black cape. The red wig was shoved on next, though it was so hastily put on it did nothing to hide the greasy black strands that poked out underneath.
"Professor Snape," Voldemort raise his voice up to the octave of a screech owl and clutched the robe shut with bony fingers. Hermione looked frightened for a moment, more at his sudden attitude change than the fact that her life had just been threatened. Then, without another look back, she ran out of the room into the hallway. In a final attempt at saving his reputation, Voldemort drew his wand out of his robes and whispered the Imperius curse fiercely. One sizzling back bolt of energy shot past the unhinged professor and struck an unsuspecting Hermione squarely in the back.