. . . . . . . . . . .from last chapter. . . . . . .
"Well, I did see you're dance before the men got to you. Very, er, provocative." An embarrassed smile flitted over her face.
"Well, you see, I mean, I've never done that before. I just, I think it was the music…" Harry laughed a barking, hollow laugh.
"No sweat, 'Mione."
They sat in silence for a few seconds, and the Hermione said,
"Um, Harry? Can I have some clothes? It's getting kind of cold in here…"
Back at the Burrow, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Dumbledore, Professor Macgonigal, and the rest of the Weasleys gathered in the living room.
"Do you think this has anything to do with Harry's disappearance?" Ron's voice quavered a bit. He had now lost both his best friends to some unknown cause. Ginny put her arm around Ron. Dumbledore frowned.
"I am not entirely sure, but it seems likely."
Ron climbed up the numerous flights of stairs to his room. He felt deflated and empty, with no one to talk to about his feelings. For the past years Hermione had been there for him, but now she was gone too. He thought back to Graduation day . . . . . .
Hermione ran at Rom, clutching a certificate in her hand.
"Ron! The Ministry of Magic has accepted me as the first Head of the Protection of Magical Creatures Department! The new Minister, Percy Weasely of course, invited me today! Your brother!"
Ron knew very well that Percy was Minister of Magic, and he had suspected that Hermione would get that position because Percy kept hinting that he was putting a newly graduated person in office whenever he came by the Burrow.
"Hermione, that's wonderful! I never doubted you would do something like that. You have to tell Harr-" Ron looked dumbstruck. It had been two years, and yet he still made reference to his best friend. "I- I mean you must tell Ginny. She'll be overjoyed." He finished lamely.
The flicker of light in Hermione's eyes was dampened. Of course she knew Harry was gone (she wouldn't think dead), but when people slipped like that the whole thing came crashing over her head like a wall crumbling in a storm.
Changing the subject, she said,
"Hey, look over there. It's Emily P. Why don't you go and talk to her? You've wanted to all year long, and this is your last chance."
Ron's head snapped up.
"NO, I can't talk to her. She'll think I'm just desperate on the last day of school She'll think I'm an idiot." He blinked.
"No she won't!" Hermione shoved him towards a pretty girl with brown hair and shimmery blue eye shadow.
Turning away, Hermione walked towards the Quidditch pitch. In the last two years Hermione had visited the pitch numerous times. It made her feel somehow closer to Harry. She made her way to the center of the field and lay down on the soft grass, staring up at the clouds.
She fell asleep. A bright light shone in front of her. Three almost translucent figures stood around her. One was Cedric Diggory, who had died in his sixth year, one was Cho Chang, who had been killed in the last battle with Voldemort, and the last was Harry. Cho and Cedric moved around and whispered something to one another, and Harry sat down beside her. He reached out a hand that Hermione could see through, and gently brushed her hair. Or tried to. All Hermione felt was a light breeze rustle the shining lock of hair. A tear ran down his face. Then he reached down and started shaking her roughly and she screamed and was suddenly awake being stuffed into a bag and levitated. That was all she remembered until she woke up in a small badly lit room with a bed frame and box spring and a jug of dirty water.
. . . . . Ron sighed and wished that he could talk to Harry. Hermione was great, he loved her with a passion he was constantly forced to cover with brotherly love, but she wasn't a guy, a guy like Harry. Harry had understood Ron without even trying. Even though their situations in life were so different, Harry had known what it felt like to get hand-me-down clothes every Christmas, and to not get much food. Of course now he was probably – yes, he might as well accept it – dead. Ron squeezed his eyes shut to keep out the tears. Now he had lost Hermione too, he had no one. Now he felt untruthful for not telling her about his interest in her, and now it was too late. He would never hold her in his arms, never kiss her sweet soft lips, taste the sent that followed her everywhere. The tears finally could not be quenched and poured down his cheeks.
"Aw, shit." He should never have thought about her, or him. What if Harry had lived? He had been hot on Hermione for two years, even though he had liked Cho, and she was the main interest of fifth year. Would they (Harry and Hermione) have gotten together? He stopped thinking.
Harry and Hermione both decided that the clothes the gagged men were wearing were not good, so Harry gave her his shirt, and they scavenged and found the so called underwear hidden in a corner.
Now clothed, Hermione started to worrying that the men would come back and catch them.
"Harry, do you have a way to escape? Is there any way to get out? Can we get our wands back? Oh, Harry if we get caught, it'll all be for nothing!"
Harry stood up. Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Instantly she silently screamed at herself for noticing something as trivial and silly as the way the light caught on his now bare chest. Quickly she looked away. He reached out his hand.
"Can I help you?" Hermione smiled a little.
"Still chivalrous, even now?" the shadow of a grin crossed his face, and for a split second they were back in school, with not a care in the world (besides Voldemort), and then it was over just like that.
Harry led Hermione to the corner he had been sitting in. A tunnel wove it's way down in darkness. Hermione gulped. She wasn't partial to small dark areas in general, and this wasn't the exception.
"Harry, I don't think I can do this… -"
Harry cut her off. "You have to. By the way, I didn't actually do all of this, I just dug through the wall and found this. There is a turn off to the room they keep the wands. We can go by there and get them."
Hermione saw a recklessness in Harry's eye that she had never seen before. For some reason she thought of Harry's deceased God father Sirius Black. In fact, now that she thought of it Harry looked a lot like Sirius; the long black matted hair, the hollow cheeks, Hermione was glad that his eyes at least were the same bright green, full of the earnest want to do good. What was she thinking? That Harry had gone mad? She brushed all those thoughts away.
"Will you go first?"
Harry seemed to relax. "Of course. Don't worry, Hermione. You are safe with me, I promise you that. I won't leave you for anything." Then he ducked in to the tunnel and crawled away. Hermione hurried after him, stuffing the hole with the large rock Harry had put next to the entrance. Everything went black, and all she could hear was Harry a little ways ahead of her.
The air was very damp, and cool enough to make the hair on the back of Hermione's neck stand up. They headed down, and the path twisted and curved. Hermione was reminded of the path under Hogwarts that led to the Candy Shop in Hogsmead. Then it sloped up and suddenly Harry stopped. Not being able to see, Hermione ran right in to his back.
"Oh!–" Harry slapped his hand over her mouth.
"You have to be quiet, or someone will catch us!" Harry kept his hand there a few seconds longer. Hermione noticed that his hand smelled really good. But his hand pulled away and he reached for the door in front of them.
It opened without a sound, as if it had been oiled recently, but there didn't seem to have any hinges. Harry turned his head to look at her.
"Hermione, can you wait here while I get the wands? I know where they are, and if I get caught you can still escape." Hermione ignored the last part and said,
"But you don't know what my wand looks like." Harry grinned that shadow of a grin again, this time it looked sad though.
"Of course I know what your wand looks like. How could I not? You are the only person I - I mean, my best friend, right?" Turning towards the room, Harry left without a word, closing the door behind him.
Sitting in the darkness Hermione tried not to think about all the horrible things that could happen to Harry if he got caught. Instead her mind drifted to the thoughts she kept having about how Harry looked amazing without a shirt on. Of course he might be thinking about her naked body, who knew? He had seen quite a bit of it.
Fifteen minutes later there was a fumbling at the door. Harry's head came through and then the rest of him all very fast. So fast that in his hurry to close the door he fell on top of Hermione. Gesturing apologies he crawled as fast as he could to the bend in the tunnel and waited for her to catch up. Sagging against the wall he let out a breath.
"I heard someone coming. They were having trouble with the key as I was getting in, that saved my life." His face was in shadows, but Hermione could tell that his lips were trembling. Reaching out through the darkness she lightly placed her hands on his face, cupping his cheeks in her palms. Sure enough, she felt a slight tremble around his mouth.
Touching Harry's face came as a surprise for Hermione. For some reason he hadn't grown a beard, and his face was still smooth as it had been when he was fifteen. She whispered,
"It's okay, Harry. You're okay, we're okay. We escaped, and we have the wands. As long as we have them, we'll be fine." Harry nodded, and handed her wand over. Just feeling the smooth hard wood connect with her hand made everything feel better.
"Let's go to sleep, shall we?" he nodded.
Finding a comfortable spot was trouble though. Harry slid down to prop his head on one side of the tunnel and put his feet on the other side. Hermione gingerly rested her head on his stomach and lay perpendicular to Harry. He didn't seem to mind, so she settled down, and fell asleep almost instantly.
The damp air in the tunnel chilled Harry's bare chest. Shivering a bit, he lightly rested his hand on Hermione's warm back. As he did this, Harry marveled at her. She had been traumatized by a bunch of men old enough to be her father, then found by a man she now probably thought was a sex crazed creep. Of course she must not think that, or she wouldn't be here with him now. Maybe she was using him as a means to get out of there. But he wouldn't leave her. Even if that was what she really was doing. He would stay with her, like he promised, no matter what. He thought back to the last time he saw her . . . . . .
Smoke was flying everywhere, getting in his eyes, his mouth. The drapes were on fire, but there were already people putting it out. A huge cloud of smoke blew into Harry's face, making him cough, but he didn't think about it. He felt much older than his fifteen years of age. The only thing he could think was that he had finally done it. He had destroyed Voldemort, and he would never come back, never hurt his friends again. This brought his friends into mind.
Cho had died killing Wormtail, and Ginny and Ron had been wounded killing Luscious Malfoy. Many more had died, and some were not going to be able to recover for years.
. . . . Hermione. Harry's head suddenly snapped up. Was she okay? The last time he saw her had been in the dungeons, where he told her to stay put, and not to move anywhere. He yelled over the explosions coming from above them not to try and fight, she had only just recovered from a major chest wound, and he couldn't stand to lose her. As he swept away to find Lord Voldemort she had shouted something at him, but he hadn't heard her.
Now he knew he had to find her. Ron was safe a St. Mungo's, but Hermione could be anywhere, she could be dying. Harry had become close friends with death that summer. So many people he knew had gone through the veil. He could not bear to lose Hermione too.
Harry ran all the way down to the dungeons. Bursting into the potions room he had left Hermione in, he was ready to fight for her life, but the room was empty. What had happened? He whipped out the Marauder's map (why hadn't he thought of it before?) and checked for Hermione's dot. In the Great Hall? He must have run right passed her. Swearing at his stupidity, he turned around and hurried back up the stairs. She was in the room which they had decided to use as a recovery station, where she might be wounded, or dying. For some reason Harry knew she was alive. He could feel it somehow.
He had defeated Voldemort, and saved the world yet again. But he felt empty, like he had lost the purpose of life. For five years he had lived to kill Voldemort, and now that he was dead there was nothing to live for. An image of Ron, Ginny, Neville , Luna, and Hermione burst into his head. All five of his best friends, that was what he lived for. Not feeling much better, seeing as how one of those five might be dead Harry put on an extra burst of speed.
Running into the Great Hall, Harry did a quick scan of the room. Where was she? Then he saw a head of bushy brown hair. She was sitting on a bed from the hospital wing, talking to Neville Longbottom. She had gotten into a fight, she was hurt.
Harry walked as fast as he could, without hurting anyone, to her bed. Hermione's arm was in a sling, and she had burn marks littering her smooth skin. Neville moved away quickly.
"Hermione," He fought to keep his voice low, "I told you to stay put, and to not fight." As he spoke his voice rose in volume, "So that you wouldn't get hurt. You didn't listen to me, and now you're hurt!" Hermione stared at him.
"Harry, you really thought I would just sit and twiddle my thumbs while you were out there possibly dying? And why do you think you can order me around anyway? I'm fifteen, just like you. I can handle just as much as you can, and I don't intend to let you make me do anything." Her face was red from anger, and her hands were shaking. She stood up, gingerly moving around the sling. Standing in front of Harry, she took a deep breath and said,
"I killed Bellatrix Lestrange. The one who killed Siri–"
Harry cut in, "I know who she killed." A wave of shock ran through him. He had felt sure he would be the one who would avenge his God father's death. And now Hermione had done it. But then he thought, Bellatrix is dead. She's dead, and he didn't have to deal with her.
Harry looked at Hermione's eyes, which were filling with tears.
"Oh, Hermione. Had you never killed one before?" She nodded, and a sob broke from her throat. "It hurts, doesn't it? Killing someone." Harry put his arms around her. "You think you hate the person, and then you kill them, and even though you still hate them, you feel like the worst person in the world." Hermione nodded into his arms. "Killing is not in our nature. Those who find so called "joy" in it are sick in the head."
They stood like that, swaying back and forth for awhile and then Hermione said,
"How many people have you killed, Harry?" He smiled a little sad smile.
"Two. Voldemort, and Draco Malfoy." He looked at her. She stepped away.
"Harry, you killed Draco?" A horrified look came onto her face. "But he and I – I mean, we were – he loved me." She pushed away from him.
Harry was suddenly mad. How had Hermione not realized what Malfoy was? He had tried to kill Luna Lovegood, and Harry had only just saved her by hitting Malfoy with the Avada Kedavera curse. He had not meant to kill him, but the curse had come out of his mouth, and all the pent up hatred that Draco had caused Ron and Hermione had come out.
"Hermione," Harry yelled, "he tried to kill Luna! He was pure evil, tricking you into believing him that he loved you, that he had changed." Hermione glared at him, and cried at the same time. People were looking at then as though they were mental cases.
"You evil, mean hearted monster! You were jealous of him, because he turned nice. And now he's d –dead." Sobbing, she said, "He tried to kill Luna? When?"
Harry sighed. "Last night, and that's why Luna's in St. Mungo's." Hermione swayed, and sat on the bed. Suddenly she shot back up.
"YOU KILLED VOLDEMORT!" She shrieked. "HE'S GONE! HE'LL NEVER COME BACK? HARRY, YOU DID IT! OH MY GOD, YOU REALLY DID IT!" Her voice echoed through the castle.
Everyone in the Hall stopped what they were doing. Silence filled it, and the rooms near it (Hermione can be pretty loud at times). Then, as if on a silent order, everyone cheered. Yelling, whooping, screaming their joy, and they started clapping in rhythm and yelling, "Potter Won! Potter Won! Potter Won!"
Harry got picked up and carried outside.
That night Harry went on a walk alone. Sitting on a stone on the edge of the Forrest he rested his eyes. The next thing he knew he was stuck in a small box that had tiny air holes.
. . . . . That afternoon was the last time Harry saw Hermione.
(A/N) Hey! Sorry it took me so long to update, I've had a bit of writers block. Nothing to heavy, but I couldn't make myself write. I'm not sure that this bit of the story is as good as the first three chappies, please try not to be irritated. I hope this one is long enough!
Later, -Toria