Chapter 6: Midnight Confessions
Harry sat alone in his former godfather's room. Pictures were strewn about him; pictures of James Potter, Lily Evans; James and Lily Potter along with their son; Sirius Black; the Marauders; James and Sirius. The pictures brought tears to his eyes, but he couldn't cry. Not again, he just didn't have the energy. In some part of his mind, he knew that he should get up, sleep, maybe even eat, but he remained. He sat, unmoving with his legs crossed for however long, he didn't know. Time had no meaning for him. There was only pain in that room, and in his mind.
After a significant amount of time had passed, Harry heard something he could not mistake. It was the voice of the one person in the world he loved with all of his heart.
"NO, NOT HARRY!" she heard her mother scream. She was being held in her mother's arms.
"Leave him be, silly girl. Give me the boy," she heard the bone-chilling voice command. Her mother refused. Then she heard her mother's final noise, a shriek before her death. Then the figure from which the voice came from approached her. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Hermione sat alone in that little cupboard under the Dursley's stairs. Her stomach ached with hunger. It had been all day since with she had anything to eat, and she received a mere piece of toast for supper. After crying for a while, she began her favorite hobby: thinking about her parents. Perhaps they didn't really die in that car crash; they were just recovering all of these years. Any day now, they would come walking through the door and rescue her. They would yell at Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia for all they had done to her, and she would be safe.
Hermione jolted up. She ran through the events of the dreams in her mind. It couldn't be, she never lived at the Dursley's, and she never faced Voldemort. She shuddered, the thought of that creature near her brought fear and tears to her eyes. She jumped out of her bed and ran down the stairs. She had to find Harry. Only he could help her. After all, these were his memories.
She reached the first floor and ran towards the boys' room. On her way, she ran into a strong barrier, causing her to scream. The barrier put its arms around her and shook her. "Hermione, Hermione! What's wrong!" she immediately recognized Harry's voice. She shook her head to come back to reality.
"Oh, Harry!" she cried into his chest. "It was horrible! HE was horrible!" She continued to bawl into his shirt, while kept his arms wrapped protectively around her.
"Shh, shh, Hermione. What's wrong? Who are you talking about?" he asked her, taking in the smell of her hair.
"Voldemort," she said quietly, hating the feel of his name on her lips. She felt Harry wrap his arms around her tighter, and felt as though she could lose herself in his arms. Harry carefully walked her over to the couch in the living room in front of a TV. There were also two other chairs in the room, along with a roaring fireplace. After setting her down, Harry got up, but she tugged back at him. He smiled lightly and sat down next to her. She wrapped both of her arms around his right arm and rested her shoulder on his. They both sighed contentedly and stayed that way for a few minutes.
"Who lit the fire?" Hermione asked in a voice slightly above a whisper. Harry looked down at Hermione, wondering what made her come down here this night.
"I did. Couldn't sleep," Harry replied.
"Oh," Hermione uttered softly, resting once again without speaking. She closed her eyes, but it brought back the memory, and the pain along with it. She quickly reopened them and saw their reflection in the television. "So what did you dream about?"
"Nothing," Harry lied, not wanting to talk to her about it.
Hermione lifted her head off his shoulder for the first time and looked at him in the eyes. "Liar," she said simply and bit back a smile.
Harry chuckled. He let out a big sigh and gave in. "The day you came here." Hermione's eyes softened at the confession. She remembered the day well.
"Harry! Harry Potter you open this door!" she yelled at him through the doorway. She had been at Grimmauld Place for about twelve hours and Harry would not open the door nor respond in any way. "HARRY JAMES POTTER YOU OPEN THIS DAMNED DOOR BEFORE I DO IT FOR YOU!" She screamed as loud as she could at him, but he still didn't open the door. I warned him, she thought. "REDUCTO!" The door shattered before her after she said the curse.
She walked in and almost collapsed at the sight. Harry was almost as thin as the first time she saw him. He had pictures all around him; among the pictures lay a mirror. Harry looked up at her and she thought he was dead. His face was ashen, his eyes were not bright as they normally were, but had death written inside of them. Her heart cried for him.
"Harry…HARRY! We have to get you out of here," Hermione pleaded, trying to pull his arm, but he merely snatched it back, causing her to slip. She stumbled and saw a picture of the three of them: Ron, Harry and herself. Next to it was a picture of James, Sirius, and Lily. Her heart ached when she realized what Harry must have been going through, and she tried her best to comfort him. Without messing up any of the pictures, she sat down on the bed next to him. She put both of her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. They stayed there for what seemed like hours.
"Not exactly your finest moment." Hermione again rested her head back on his shoulder and smiled.
"Gee, thanks,"Harry chuckled; now resting his head lightly on Hermione's as well. She blushed and smiled. She thought of all they had been through together. He had even managed to save her life on more than one occasion. The moments she had spent with him were so amazing, she thought. Then she blushed even more when she began to think of him as more than a friend. She quickly tried to calm her thoughts. After one last look at their reflection in the television, she fell into a nightmare-free sleep, dreaming of…other things instead.
Harry felt Hermione's breathing become controlled and noticed that she was no longer talking. He was jus thinking how he should probably get her a blanket or something when one from a nearby closet came and covered the both of them. Harry blinked twice at what had happened and felt the blanket to be sure it was real. It was. He was about to wake Hermione to ask her about it, but she looked too perfect and beautiful while she slept. Wait! Did I just call Hermione perfect and beautiful? Harry thought to himself. He decided to leave her to her sleep. He carefully slid away from her, letting her stretch out on the couch.
As he turned to go back up to his room, he felt someone grab him at his wrist. He looked at his hand to realize it was Hermione who had grabbed him. He looked at her face, where she was trying to hide a grin. He smiled back at her before she yanked him down on the ground next to the couch. Hermione thought Harry could probably use a blanket, too, before she fell back asleep. When Harry lied down on the floor, he noticed it was oddly more comfortable than any bed he'd had at the Dursley's. As he drifted into sleep, a blanket appeared and covered him.
