Harry Potter and the Slow Bloom:
Chapter 6: Lest Old Enemies be Forgotten…
My most sincere apologies – it's been months since I updated and a lot has happened since then. Suffice to say that university is a hard taskmistress. Anyway, here we go, I'm sure you've been waiting for this bit.
Moisten around the edges, cut a flap and insert disclaimer here. Redeemable value: 0.01p. Not for exchange or sale.
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Ron Weasley was having a nightmare. He was sure of it. He was in the hospital wing alone with the memories of his visions – not to mention Malfoy, who was hopefully still imitating soup - and he hadn't been able to tell either of his friends, let alone Dumbledore. He felt like he'd been hit repeatedly by a particularly sadistic bludger and he couldn't move an inch. On top of that, he was scared stiff and sweating. What the hell was going on in the ministry? He couldn't keep track. He was drowning in secrets and triple-crosses, people were in danger, the ministry had been – was – Damnit – being infiltrated – assuming You-know-who's spies were still there – and on top of all that they'd been using blood tactics and executions. Bloody perfect.
How the hell did I end up here in the first place? One minute flashbacks, the next I'm in Harry's home away from home.
And what happened? Ok… Bode was a Death Eater, right? My host recognised him, said something about serving You-Know-Who again... that must have been the night that Lucius Malfoy Imperio'd him into the Department of Mysteries. Bode was a spy for You – Know – Who but turned… That scene with… Saint? Yes, Saint, must have been a trust thing. If he really hated the Dark Arts he'd have had no problem taking a Death Eater down… I didn't recognise anyone in there apart from him. Damn. But then Harry says that they let Death Eaters go, the first time around… Sounds like something that nutter Fudge would do.
Saint's execution must have been from the first war… Which means that Bode was responsible for… what? No one knew who ALL the Death Eaters were apart from the Braintank people and You-Know-Who. What was Bode doing? Identifying them? No, that doesn't make sense. He knew my host. Why wouldn't he rat on that one then? Wait, maybe he did. I was inside his memories, which mean that he got de-brained. Looks like Bode ended up squarely on the ministry's side and got to that bloke before he could do anything.
They let them go… what does that mean? Harry says Dumbledore looked scared… I'm sure he would've been told if they were being kept under wraps. Someone from You-Know-Who's lot must have cut a deal after He fell… for all of them. Maybe they didn't even need to cut a deal. Who was involved with the Brain tank anyway? They must have covered this up… They knew, Damnit. And they still let them go lose, or freed them or whatever. They must have been in really deep – so deep that Bode couldn't have known about them…
Shit… What if they never came out?
There was the sound of crisp, professional footsteps upon stone, then a burst of sunlight hit him full in the face as a fresh-faced, starchy-white Madam Pomfrey threw open the curtains. The pendulum clock on the wall next to the duty station indicated that it was half past seven. He groaned in protest at the time.
"Good morning, Mr Weasley." She brandished a glass of thick brown liquid at him. "Drink!"
He swallowed reluctantly. It was warm. It stank. It tasted like rotten bile. He heaved, only just managing to keep the vile concoction down.
"Mr Weasley! I doubt that my potions are that awful! Anyway, you are staying here for the rest of the day. You've had a seizure."
No… a vision. Which led to it. I… damn!
He struggled with his sheets, throwing them off haphazardly.
"Mr Weasley! Where on earth do you think you're going?!"
"I need to go and see Professor Dumbledore. Right now. I had a dream… a vision. Everyone's in danger, you don't understand…" he panted, struggling with his robes.
The stunning spell came from out of nowhere and hit the matron square in the back. Ron's brain froze as she crumpled to the floor, barely registering the shape towering above her. It looked like a dementor in human form, but there was no despair, no sigh of wind... It was black…mostly black apart from the scarlet, hell-crazed eyes and the thin silver gashes running down its body. It was holding a wand… Pomfrey's.... except…
No dementor would ever carry a wand….
No dementor would have white-blond hair.
"Malfoy…" he croaked. The word stuck in his throat as his blood turned to ice in his veins.
"How very perceptive of you, Weasssssley" the…thing hissed, twirling the wand dextrously between its malformed fingers as Ron scrabbled for his own, knowing full well that he wouldn't reach it in time. His eyes widened in shock as he saw the wand-tip swing directly into his face. "I'm going to have ssssome fun with you, you pure-blood traitor."
Ron turned away in terror as Malfoy hissed an incantation, waiting for the spell to hit and for the pain to begin.
It never came. With a shimmering sound walls of golden light materialised around each bed, blocking the bolt of magic and causing it to rebound into a shelf of glassware, which promptly shattered with considerable violence. The Malfoy-thing blinked in surprise and threw another spell at the translucent golden wall between them, with much the same effect as the first.
Wards? Oh thank God, he can't get me. But I can't get him…damn it! Malfoy punched the wall violently, trying to get through. The wall sizzled and sparkled but he couldn't force an opening. Hissing, he fixed Ron with a glare, the hate smouldering scarlet in his crazed eyes.
"You'll get yourssss, traitor." They were face to face, red hair matching scarlet eyes that looked as if they were trying to burn through the liquid barriers, hypnotic in their madness.
His head snapped up and he sniffed the air once. A grim smile swept over his face he scented a better, less protected kind of prey.
"But they'll get theirssss first" He turned away, black cloak sweeping cream floor with a hiss of fabric upon stone.
Harry! Hermione!
Ron, now mortally afraid for his friends, wound up his reserves and cast an alarm spell inside his glowing bay. The vials along the opposite wall exploded in a storm of razor-sharp shards as glassware started resonating to the frequency of the magical cacophony. The maelstrom of exploding crystal washed across the floor, scoring thin bloody streaks as it flew past the prone figure of the matron. In his prison of light, Ron watched in horror as they hit the black and silver demon full in the face to absolutely no effect. In another instant he was gone, the threat of bloody, violent horror still tangible on the early-morning air.
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Harry slowly drifted into consciousness, the memories of the previous night a haze. He remembered bushy hair, warm lips and…skin; infinitely soft, curvy skin glowing in the heat of the dying fire, hot to the touch as she cradled his head upon her chest, losing him in her radiance and welcoming his gently questing hands.
He shifted as her hair tickled his nose, trying not to squirm as she subconsciously shifted in his grasp. He struggled for a moment to free his left arm, which was currently wrapped around Hermione's gown-clad shoulders.
That was strange. He couldn't budge it an inch. What on earth…? His mind suddenly flitted to thoughts of a handcuffing spell that Moody had mentioned in passing the year before. Surely she hadn't…? Slightly panicking now, he lifted his head past the nape of her neck and caught sight of his hand.
Hermione was holding it against her chest with both of hers as though she intended never to let go.
Harry's heart surged as he took in the sight. This was… this wasn't possible. Him? Like this? Being held on to as if he meant something? The memories of the night before came flooding back like water through a burst dam. Hermione taking charge like that… wow. He grinned to himself as an evil little thought reared its head. Well, you knew she was bossy. Be honest, what did you expect?
Not this… not in my lifetime. I never thought anything like this would happen to me.
I never thought I'd be seduced by my best friend.
But we didn't… you know… did we?
No. But I've never felt so loved.
He let his shoulders fall back on to the armrest of the sofa, propping himself up at an awkward angle. His left hand shifted higher, cradling her head now. Brushing away a few stray strands of hair, he caught sight of the faint smile upon her face and knew she was awake.
"What time is it, Harry?" she whispered.
"A quarter to eight." he yawned back. "We've only been asleep for a few hours."
"It's Wednesday. We have double Defence at two."
"Trust you to –huuah- already have the timetable memorised. You really are amazing". He snuggled closer into her back.
She couldn't resist the gentle tease. "For your information, Mister Potter, so are you."
He was genuinely surprised.
"Are you… I mean, did you… was it…ok? Last nig…"
She frowned, wishing with all her heart that he'd one day learn to let go of the anxiety that plagued him. Dumbledore told me a long time ago that he might turn out like this. At the time I vowed to help him as a friend. Now I've started helping him as a woman and he's not sure if he deserves it.
She was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she'd broken several important barriers. Ones that Harry might have thought that he'd never cross.
"I wanted it, you needed it. I love you, Harry. I wanted to help." She awkwardly turned in his arms to face him. He looked fragile.
"I never thought…"
"I know. I think maybe that's why I did it. You know… what happened back then."
"Back then… yeah."
"Are you happy, Harry? That things are turning out this way?" Please let him be all right.
He looked her in the eyes. "You're my friend. You're my… girlfriend. I couldn't ask for anything else."
"So what's wrong?"
"It's all so new to me. I had no idea what I was doing last night. Umm... was I…"
She grinned suddenly. "I would never have guessed. You're gentle, Harry. You have good hands." Smiling, she lifted his hand and kissed it. "You have nothing to worry about there. Now, let's get up before we get noticed. Breakfast starts soon. And I'm sure that you don't want my roommates seeing you like this" She poked his breastbone playfully as she rolled on to the floor. He followed her in a clumsy heap.
"Up! Before I start tickling you again!"
"Fine. But five minutes, all right?"
And with that, they made their way towards their staircases, not hearing the faint scream in the corridor outside.
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Yes, it's a cliffhanger. Please review. Suggestions would be nice!