Chapter 45
"The Journey"
The group had been riding on horseback for several hours now. The sun had already begun to take its nap and give way to the moon. The area around them was eerie and gloomy for they were in a long stretch of dead woods. Hermione pulled her robe around her as a chilly breeze broke through the trees. The horses huffed and puffed, their hooves making loud noises against the rocks on the path they were following. Dumbledore was ahead of the group, talking to a few people. Everyone had their wands out and lit up for light to see. Some of them were talking, others looked around them in silence as the trees towered over them like silent giants.
They had been traveling for two days straight. They would stop each day after sunset to set up camp. Some people would sleep while some people kept watch for any signs of danger. Then those watchers would sleep while others took their spot. Dumbledore would go over the things for what was to be expected when they arrived at the castle. Hermione would lay in her little bed in the tent and ponder of her future and her feelings. So much was going to happen and all too fast. She wanted to help her parents and the other prisoners escape. She wanted to help Harry escape as well, but the one thing she wanted the most was to somehow, someway, help Tom. He was as lost inside a world all too familiar to him. Hate was the only thing he knew. Hermione only hoped that she could help Tom find the better in himself and move on to start a new life. She knew that she could take him out of his world of hate, but could she take the hate out of him?
Dumbledore pulled off the road and into a small clearing. He hoped off his horse and inspected the area.
"We will camp here tonight." He said to the group of people behind him.
Everyone got off their horses and immediately began setting up camp. Since there were one hundred people in the group, sixty-four men and thirty-six women, there were four women to a tent and four men to a tent. The tents were just like the one's Hermione had stayed in when the Weasley's took them to the Quidditch cup in her fourth year. The men gathered wood to build a fire and some of the women prepared meals. Dumbledore pointed out a creek nearby to be used for water.
Hermione went down to the creek to wash up. The water was cold as ice and very clear. She rolled up her robe sleeves and crouched down to put her hands in the water, cupping them together to bring some water up to her face. She washed the dirt off her face and looked down at her reflection. She was still the same woman, but she felt like someone else. Well, she was somewhat someone else. She smiled at that. A bird sang overhead. Hermione looked up at the bird, a red cardinal, and suddenly thought of Tom. She missed him and needed him now more than ever, but she felt that she couldn't have both him and a life. For some odd reason, she felt like her fate had already been decided, and it wasn't going to be a wonderful one at all.
She returned to the camp just as their meal was being passed out. She sat down by Ron near the fire and took a bowl of hot, steamy chicken soup. She ate slowly and was the last person to finish. As Dumbledore pulled out papers and went over the plans again, Hermione's mind wandered off. She placed her hand on her stomach and pretended that it was Tom's, him looking in her eyes with such a deep, strong love that she knew she would be save forever.
"Hermione?" called a voice, breaking Hermione's thoughts.
She turned her head and saw Ron staring at her with a worried expression.
"Yes?" she replied.
"Are you alright?" he asked her.
Hermione nodded her head.
"Yeah, I was just thinking," she said.
"Well, Dumbledore asked to see you in his tent," said Ron.
Hermione went over to Dumbledore's tent. It was a small room inside with a nice, warm fire burning in a fireplace. Dumbledore was seated in an armchair and motioned for Hermione to sit in the one opposite of him. A small table rested between them, covered in many objects. Hermione sat down.
"You asked for me?" she said.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Since you have the ability to move things with your mind, you need to be able to control your power as well for if you don't know how to use it properly, it can lead to devastating events."
Hermione frowned. More bad news to add to her ever-growing pile of bad news.
"Now, I have placed several things on this table. I want you to move one at a time, then two, then, three, and so on and so forth," said Dumbledore.
Hermione turned her attention to the objects on the table. She focused her gaze upon teacup.
"MOVE!MOVE!" she screamed in her head, screwing up her face with concentration.
The cup didn't budge at all.
"I can't," she said. "I don't know how."
"Clear your mind of anything else, focus on the object, and in your mind, see what you want to see the object do,' said Dumbledore.
Hermione took a deep breath and focused her attention back onto the teacup. She cleared her min of distractions and saw in her mind the cup being picked up by an invisible hand and just floating. Suddenly, the teacup began to move. It slowly floated up in the air and just stayed there. Hermione clapped her hands and caught the cup as it fell.
"Excellent," said Dumbledore.
Hermione moved every object and all at the same time. She had spent nearly two hours doing so. She felt like she was getting the hang of this telekinesis. Dumbledore dismissed her, saying she needed rest, for tomorrow, they would reach the castle.
Hermione quietly returned to her tent and crawled into her bed. She pulled the covers up to her chin and looked up toward the window and looking up at the moon, wondering what Tom was doing, thinking. She clasped her hand around her necklace and wondered if he was breathing in and out at the same time she was, wondering if at any chance at all, he was thinking of her.
-Not Too Far Away-
Voldemort slammed his bedroom door shut and rushed out to his balcony. He had been drilling his followers with questions as to where Dumbledore and many others had disappeared to. He felt like his promised victory was slipping from his fingers because of the idiots around him. No one knew where Dumbledore and a group of people had disappeared to. Voldemort feared that Dumbledore would be making his way to the castle to destroy his hopes of destroying the world. He had enjoyed torturing Potter. He knew the boy would be excellent bait for that softhearted gloat called Dumbledore.
Voldemort leaned up against the balcony, a chilly breeze ruffling his hair. He knew what he wanted to do, wanted to accomplish. He had his death eaters reeking havoc and taking prisoners. The giants were battling auroras up in the mountains and the dementors were in the city streets. His plan was working perfectly. For once, he could taste the faint flavor of victory, but for some reason, he didn't want to taste it, and all because of her.
Yes, her. Hermione, the angel that reigned in his dreams and rescued him from his nightmares. The only one that could ever melt the ice around his heart and bring him out from the shadowy world that surrounded him. He pulled the ring out he gave to her and watched the moonlight dance on the diamonds. He smiled, thinking of her, staring into her cinnamon eyes and kissing her soft lips, knowing that no matter what happened, he was being loved. He didn't mean to hurt her that night. He was always a completely different person when hate and anger swallowed him up. He remembered the terrified and hurt look on her face when she threw the ring at him. He placed the ring back in his robe pocket and looked up at the moon.
He wondered where she was, what was she doing, what, or who, she was thinking of. He wondered if her heart beat the same time his did. He felt like in a way, Hermione was staring up at the moon, and for that reason, that they were together.
"The Journey"
The group had been riding on horseback for several hours now. The sun had already begun to take its nap and give way to the moon. The area around them was eerie and gloomy for they were in a long stretch of dead woods. Hermione pulled her robe around her as a chilly breeze broke through the trees. The horses huffed and puffed, their hooves making loud noises against the rocks on the path they were following. Dumbledore was ahead of the group, talking to a few people. Everyone had their wands out and lit up for light to see. Some of them were talking, others looked around them in silence as the trees towered over them like silent giants.
They had been traveling for two days straight. They would stop each day after sunset to set up camp. Some people would sleep while some people kept watch for any signs of danger. Then those watchers would sleep while others took their spot. Dumbledore would go over the things for what was to be expected when they arrived at the castle. Hermione would lay in her little bed in the tent and ponder of her future and her feelings. So much was going to happen and all too fast. She wanted to help her parents and the other prisoners escape. She wanted to help Harry escape as well, but the one thing she wanted the most was to somehow, someway, help Tom. He was as lost inside a world all too familiar to him. Hate was the only thing he knew. Hermione only hoped that she could help Tom find the better in himself and move on to start a new life. She knew that she could take him out of his world of hate, but could she take the hate out of him?
Dumbledore pulled off the road and into a small clearing. He hoped off his horse and inspected the area.
"We will camp here tonight." He said to the group of people behind him.
Everyone got off their horses and immediately began setting up camp. Since there were one hundred people in the group, sixty-four men and thirty-six women, there were four women to a tent and four men to a tent. The tents were just like the one's Hermione had stayed in when the Weasley's took them to the Quidditch cup in her fourth year. The men gathered wood to build a fire and some of the women prepared meals. Dumbledore pointed out a creek nearby to be used for water.
Hermione went down to the creek to wash up. The water was cold as ice and very clear. She rolled up her robe sleeves and crouched down to put her hands in the water, cupping them together to bring some water up to her face. She washed the dirt off her face and looked down at her reflection. She was still the same woman, but she felt like someone else. Well, she was somewhat someone else. She smiled at that. A bird sang overhead. Hermione looked up at the bird, a red cardinal, and suddenly thought of Tom. She missed him and needed him now more than ever, but she felt that she couldn't have both him and a life. For some odd reason, she felt like her fate had already been decided, and it wasn't going to be a wonderful one at all.
She returned to the camp just as their meal was being passed out. She sat down by Ron near the fire and took a bowl of hot, steamy chicken soup. She ate slowly and was the last person to finish. As Dumbledore pulled out papers and went over the plans again, Hermione's mind wandered off. She placed her hand on her stomach and pretended that it was Tom's, him looking in her eyes with such a deep, strong love that she knew she would be save forever.
"Hermione?" called a voice, breaking Hermione's thoughts.
She turned her head and saw Ron staring at her with a worried expression.
"Yes?" she replied.
"Are you alright?" he asked her.
Hermione nodded her head.
"Yeah, I was just thinking," she said.
"Well, Dumbledore asked to see you in his tent," said Ron.
Hermione went over to Dumbledore's tent. It was a small room inside with a nice, warm fire burning in a fireplace. Dumbledore was seated in an armchair and motioned for Hermione to sit in the one opposite of him. A small table rested between them, covered in many objects. Hermione sat down.
"You asked for me?" she said.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Since you have the ability to move things with your mind, you need to be able to control your power as well for if you don't know how to use it properly, it can lead to devastating events."
Hermione frowned. More bad news to add to her ever-growing pile of bad news.
"Now, I have placed several things on this table. I want you to move one at a time, then two, then, three, and so on and so forth," said Dumbledore.
Hermione turned her attention to the objects on the table. She focused her gaze upon teacup.
"MOVE!MOVE!" she screamed in her head, screwing up her face with concentration.
The cup didn't budge at all.
"I can't," she said. "I don't know how."
"Clear your mind of anything else, focus on the object, and in your mind, see what you want to see the object do,' said Dumbledore.
Hermione took a deep breath and focused her attention back onto the teacup. She cleared her min of distractions and saw in her mind the cup being picked up by an invisible hand and just floating. Suddenly, the teacup began to move. It slowly floated up in the air and just stayed there. Hermione clapped her hands and caught the cup as it fell.
"Excellent," said Dumbledore.
Hermione moved every object and all at the same time. She had spent nearly two hours doing so. She felt like she was getting the hang of this telekinesis. Dumbledore dismissed her, saying she needed rest, for tomorrow, they would reach the castle.
Hermione quietly returned to her tent and crawled into her bed. She pulled the covers up to her chin and looked up toward the window and looking up at the moon, wondering what Tom was doing, thinking. She clasped her hand around her necklace and wondered if he was breathing in and out at the same time she was, wondering if at any chance at all, he was thinking of her.
-Not Too Far Away-
Voldemort slammed his bedroom door shut and rushed out to his balcony. He had been drilling his followers with questions as to where Dumbledore and many others had disappeared to. He felt like his promised victory was slipping from his fingers because of the idiots around him. No one knew where Dumbledore and a group of people had disappeared to. Voldemort feared that Dumbledore would be making his way to the castle to destroy his hopes of destroying the world. He had enjoyed torturing Potter. He knew the boy would be excellent bait for that softhearted gloat called Dumbledore.
Voldemort leaned up against the balcony, a chilly breeze ruffling his hair. He knew what he wanted to do, wanted to accomplish. He had his death eaters reeking havoc and taking prisoners. The giants were battling auroras up in the mountains and the dementors were in the city streets. His plan was working perfectly. For once, he could taste the faint flavor of victory, but for some reason, he didn't want to taste it, and all because of her.
Yes, her. Hermione, the angel that reigned in his dreams and rescued him from his nightmares. The only one that could ever melt the ice around his heart and bring him out from the shadowy world that surrounded him. He pulled the ring out he gave to her and watched the moonlight dance on the diamonds. He smiled, thinking of her, staring into her cinnamon eyes and kissing her soft lips, knowing that no matter what happened, he was being loved. He didn't mean to hurt her that night. He was always a completely different person when hate and anger swallowed him up. He remembered the terrified and hurt look on her face when she threw the ring at him. He placed the ring back in his robe pocket and looked up at the moon.
He wondered where she was, what was she doing, what, or who, she was thinking of. He wondered if her heart beat the same time his did. He felt like in a way, Hermione was staring up at the moon, and for that reason, that they were together.