In the Dark

Hermione opened her eyes, and let out a startled gasp. She saw a figure sitting upon the bed across from her, unmoving and staring out the large windows of the Hospital Wing. Hermione could feel the cool breeze of the night air and the faint noises of nighttime animals.

"Harry?" She asked, snapping her fingers and causing a tray of candles to flare to life. A warm orange glow was cast upon the two.

Harry turned to her. He got off the bed and sat down upon the chair beside her bed. Hermione couldn't help but notice how stiffly and slowly he moved.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice raspy. The candlelight brought out the sharp panes of his face, from the raised scar, the hollow cheeks, and the disheveled clothing and hair.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, sitting up in her bed.

"I mean what are you doing here?" Harry said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Myrtle attacked me." Hermione said.

Harry was quiet for a moment. "Why?"

Hermione sighed. "She thought you and I were dating. She got jealous. Then she attacked me." She said.

Again Harry was quiet. "Are you okay?" He asked.

Hermione felt foolish, but she felt a sense of relief and gratitude. "Yes." She said simply, smiling.

Harry nodded. "Good." He got up and began heading back toward his own bed.

"Harry." Hermione called. Harry stopped and turned back toward her. "Are you okay?"

"No." He said simply.

"Is there anything I can do?" Hermione asked.

Harry stood there for a moment and then walked back toward her, sitting upon the bed across from her. He looked sad, he looked worn and tired. "I know you mean well, Hermione. I know you really do care, but there's nothing you can do. Talking about things can do only so much and for now the time for talking is over."

Hermione sat upon the edge of her bed, wincing as her bare feet touched the cold floor. She sat across from Harry. "I can only help you as much as you let me, Harry."

Harry cocked his head, watching her. "You had a good time in Hogsmeade, didn't you?" He suddenly asked.

Hermione stared at him, caught off guard by the question. "Yes. I had a wonderful time, I even still have the flowers you gave me." She said.

Harry nodded. "I had a good time too." He looked toward the open window and the night sky. "I'll cherish that memory in the days to come."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked warily, she didn't like the path Harry was heading down.

Harry laughed, empty of any humor. "I can see it on your face. Don't worry my attempts to kill myself are behind me." He ran his hands through his hair. "I've been thinking a lot the past two days, not only on the lost of everyone that mattered to me, but on what's happening in the world. Of what Voldemort is doing and what I have been doing."

"He's been keeping low since the Battle of the Ministry." Hermione said.

Harry shook his head. "No. He's still out there, plotting and planning, scheming and setting up his moves. It's like a giant chess game between him and Dumbledore and we're all the pieces that get shuffled about and get sacrificed for a deciding move. I'm sick of it all. I'm sick of not knowing what's happening, of only reacting and not acting, of wondering what he's up to while I whiling away my time in school, plagued by the stupid problems of homework, who likes who, and all that rubbish." Harry looked up at her, his eyes hard with determination. "I have a destiny to fulfill, kill or be killed. I know I'm not ready now, but I can be. I can be ready for when he comes again. Then we'll decide this once and for all."

"Dumbledore's here to help you. He's here to make sure that Voldemort doesn't hurt you." Hermione said, a little shaken by what Harry was saying.

"I know, but don't you see? Things have been escalating higher and higher every year. Cedric was killed, Ron's dad attacked, and then Death Eaters attacked the Ministry, the supposed heart of the Wizarding Community, and Sirius died." Harry clenched his fists. "All this happened when Dumbledore was supposedly watching and protecting us. Don't you see? His protection is fallible. He's not some omnipresent wizard, he's just a man trying to fight a war."

"He fought Voldemort off.' Hermione said.

"After Sirius was killed and after those that followed me were injured and hurt. I know that was my fault, but it reinforces everything I'm talking about. We weren't ready and we need to be. Because Dumbledore won't be there to help us."

"What are you planning?" Hermione asked softly.

"I'm planning on killing Voldemort. I'm planning on destroying all he's created." Harry said savagely. "But first I need to learn, to become stronger. The Battle of the Ministry showed us all how weak we were, how we got lucky that no one was killed beyond Sirius."

Hermione could only stare at him. He couldn't be serious!

"I'll need your help in this, Hermione. Yours and Ron's." He reached forward and gripped her hand, his fingers cold and clammy. "You wanted to know what you could do? Then help me in this."

Hermione looked into his eyes, they were shining with some kind of madden glow. It scared her, but she found herself nodding and returning his grip. "I'll do what I can, Harry."