Author's Notes: Insert something random and nonsensical here.
Yes, that is what the templates for my author's notes usually look like before I add all this fancy jazz. Just thought that I'd share that little piece of unsystematic information with you all.
Okay, I lied. Please don't hate me for it. I promised this chapter would get moving on the relationships that need repairing amongst the trio, but unfortunately, nothing of that sort occurs in this chapter. You will find out a bit more about certain things from Hagrid, so keep your eyes peeled.
And just for SeverusSnapesgirl12786, I've mentioned Snape in this chapter. Just a glimpse, though. Perhaps he'll turn up again in the future… ;)
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CHAPTER EIGHT – A BATTLE IN THE FOREST
There was a swift knocking on Hagrid's front door that immediately triggered the boisterous barking of his boarhound, Fang. As the door was thrust open expectantly, Hermione saw a grinning Hagrid beckoning her in.
"C'mon, get in 'ere, I've made us a nice pot o' tea and some bread ter go with it."
Hermione's stomach lurched unpleasantly. She had been feeling slightly queasy ever since dinner and rock solid bread didn't sound quite so appetizing. But she beamed gratefully at her long-time friend, whom she hadn't seen for several months, and took a seat in an armchair by the fireplace.
In moments, she was presented with warm mint tea and a plate of what appeared to be stone shavings, otherwise known as Hagrid's cooking. "Bit hard," Hagrid muttered uncertainly, poking at one of the bread slices. "I can find butter ter soften it up, hol' on –"
Hermione watched in amusement as he bustled around his tiny kitchen, throwing cupboard after cupboard open, searching for butter. Fang was tailing him closely, and several times Hagrid almost did a flip as he tried to catch himself from falling over his overexcited pet.
"It's okay," Hermione told him reassuringly, only after his entire kitchen was in a shambles. "I'm not very hungry – just ate dinner, you know. I think I'll pass on the bread tonight."
Five minutes later Hagrid had joined her by the fireside, sipping his own cup of tea, with the bread lying on the floor, completely forgotten. Hermione felt that they had so much catching up to do; she wasn't sure where to begin.
"What have you been doing the past months, Hagrid? I hadn't heard from you in ages. Important Order stuff, I suppose?"
"Yeah," Hagrid sighed, sounding exhausted. "Been runnin' back an' forth for different people, though… I s'pose I'm allowed to say, reckon McGonagall or someone told yeh 'bout some of it, at least."
"Do you mean what's going on at the school?"
Hagrid shook his head rather dramatically. "No, Hermione," he said. "Much worse, it is. See, we're thinkin' – the Order, I mean, and I'm not disagreein' – that the Death Eaters are back."
Hermione's mind momentarily flickered to her last meeting with her WIA boss. He had said she same thing but refused to elaborate on the subject.
"What makes you think that? We haven't heard anything from them in such a long time." Honestly, she was hoping that Josie and her boss had both been mistaken in predicting their return, but Hagrid was the third person to say so, and Hermione took Hagrid very seriously – most of the time, when he wasn't trying to raise baby dragons in his kitchen, at least.
"There were spottings round Germany a few months back," said Hagrid broodingly. "Ol' Mad-Eye thought they'd been hidin' out in the Black Forest. And the sightings have been moving' closer to 'ere ever since."
"Were any identified?" Hermione asked with a growing interest.
"No, not a single one. 'Course, we all got our speculations, since we know who's dead or in Azkaban and who ain't. Jus' last week Snape was sent out near the east coast, where the latest spotting was. He was gonna do some sweet talkin' to 'em if he found any, but he came back sayin' there wasn't a trace."
Snape – that was a name Hermione hadn't heard in a while. Just because he saved a hundred or so lives in the battle against Voldemort, he'd been treated like some sort of a hero ever since. While many people still had their doubts about his loyalty, Hermione knew for a fact Snape had unwavering faithfulness to the Order – and, she thought musingly, to Dumbledore's memory. Still, the thought of Snape actually doing a good deed for once sent chills up Hermione's spine.
"Been wantin' to keep it all quiet, I s'pose," Hagrid muttered. "The Ministry thought wizards would launch inter a panic if the Daily Prophet started printin' stories abou' mad Death Eaters on the loose. Can't blame 'em."
"Do you think," Hermione began slowly, deeply thinking, "that their return has anything to do with the happenings at the school? I mean, if not, it's a pretty rare coincidence, don't you think? It's just… odd, really."
"Been thinkin' that all along," Hagrid said seriously. He paused for a minute and poked a long stick into the fire to keep the flames going. "Second day back, I think it was, and we started noticin' strange things. Not but a few days later the Order shows up at the school, askin' fer a conference with McGonagall."
"I just don't understand it, Hagrid," Hermione murmured. Sorting through the facts to create a solution was one of her specialties, but this time she was utterly stumped. She couldn't fit it all together. "Why would the Death Eaters come back? It's a lot to be risking. They know Voldemort's dead for good this time, that's why they all fled into hiding after he was defeated. And why are they supposedly moving our way? If they've been successfully concealed for the past six years, I don't see any reason to jeopardize it now."
"I do," Hagrid muttered.
"What?"
"Harry, o' course."
Why didn't I think of that? Surely they all still wanted Harry dead – he was the one who brought down their master and leader, twice now. Perhaps they thought if it was safe to walk the streets again, they could just kill him quick and get the job done. They probably felt like they owed it to Voldemort; or maybe they were even afraid, though he was dead… And with Harry alive, there was a greater chance of getting captured. The death of him would send the wizard world into a panic…
"Hermione? Still a bit sore on the subject of him, eh?"
"What? Sorry, I was just – I was thinking and didn't hear what you said."
Hagrid frowned noticeably but a look of concern crept across his face. "Yeh still in a row with those two?"
"Who?" Hermione asked innocently, wanting to avoid the subject at all costs. The queasy feeling in her stomach came rushing back immediately.
"I'm talkin' 'bout Harry an' Ron."
"Oh," Hermione whispered, casting her gaze down to the floorboards and studying the bread scattered on the rug. She felt her cheeks growing hot quite quickly. "Well, yes. They're not exactly keen on the idea of being friends again."
"Y'know, they've been down ter see me a few times," said Hagrid thoughtfully, putting aside his drained tea cup. "All's they talk 'bout is you. Harry seemed a bit, er – heated the first time I talked to 'em. Never got over havin' to fight You-Know-Who –"
"He's dead, Hagrid. Say his name like everyone else," Hermione interjected angrily.
"– sorry. Voldemort. Never got over havin' to fight 'im alone. I asked why they're still takin' out their anger on yeh when the pair of them are as tight as me own shoelaces, an' they said they worked out their differences but yeh're jus' too stubborn. That came from their mouths, not mine," he added quickly.
"Right," Hermione said quietly, furiously staring into the fireplace.
"But then Harry lightened up a bit," Hagrid continued. "Las' time I saw 'em, he started sayin' he misses the way yeh'd scold him for cheatin' on his homework. Havin' himself a bit of nostalgia, I think," he added, grinning at the astonished look on Hermione's face.
"They won't apologize, those prats," Hermione muttered, still looking into the fireplace. The shocking red flames began to bore into her eyes; she tore her gaze away quickly.
Hagrid continued on as if he hadn't heard her, but perhaps he didn't, as Fang was leaning over his lap and giving his ears a good proper cleaning. "Pretty surprised at yeh, I'd say. Seem to think yer turnin' out into a right fine lady, if I don't say so meself. Ron was –"
He stopped dead at the look on Hermione's face.
"Er, but six years can do that ter a person, yeh know," he hastily added quietly, distracting himself by shoving Fang off his lap. The dog whined and took refuge at Hermione's feet instead.
"Ron, on the other 'and, didn't show no interest in makin' up with yeh," Hagrid said bluntly, unaware of the pained look on Hermione's face. She was silently pleading him to stop before anything was said that would cause her to ricochet off the walls.
"Goin' on 'bout how yeh threw him outta your first class this mornin' when he was tryin' to help. Yeh two shouldn't be makin' scenes like that… students might start suspectin'. Also said somethin' about the nerve yeh have, showin' up at Hogwarts when yeh –"
"WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS?" Hermione exploded, jumping from her chair and sending a startled Fang a foot into the air.
"Jus' thought yeh should know," Hagrid responded, somewhat startled as well.
"I DON'T CARE WHAT RON SAYS BEHIND MY BACK!" yelled Hermione, marching towards the fireplace and accidentally treading on the plate of bread along the way (no harm done, however; the bread remained as solid as ever). Fang dashed under the kitchen table, his tail between his legs.
"So you asked me down here to tell me I should let Ron teach my Transfiguration classes? And you wanted to let me know what nasty things he's saying about me to anyone who'll listen? Well, I've got news for you and anyone who spends one minute listening to any words that come out of his mouth – Ron doesn't care for anyone but himself and if he and Harry are going to continue to act like juvenile gits, well, then maybe I should pack up my trunk and leave now! Supposedly, it would make a lot of people much happier!"
"Hermione – Hermione, listen ter me!" Hagrid roared, louder than Hermione's own rants. She stopped quickly and blushed, muttering an apology about going too far.
"In case yeh haven't noticed," Hagrid informed her, eyeing her nervously, "I'm on yer side. An' I let Harry and Ron know that, too. Even cut their visit short when Ron moved on ter criticizing the color of yer robes. Nice purple, by the way. Tha' boy's got it in for you, Hermione," he finished, sighing.
"Oh" was the only sound Hermione could force out of her mouth. She felt extremely stupid venting at Hagrid like that when nothing was his fault and he was supporting her, anyway. Any mention of Ron sent her into a rage, whether Hagrid was the one conveying his words to her or not.
Their conversation slowly turned back to the Death Eaters and related topics. They basically repeated the same information as they had discussed earlier, with no new revelations falling through. It wasn't until towards the end of Hermione's visit that a thought occurred to her.
"Hagrid… the Death Eaters obviously believe someone can still help them dominate the wizard world and return to full power. We've caught most of the real threats, or they're either dead, haven't we?"
Hagrid frowned, shaking his head. "'Fraid not. Still a good lot o' 'em out there, roaming with nothin' but the cloaks on their backs." He began listing off the Death Eaters he knew to still be alive and not in Azkaban (Malfoy's father still being among them, and sending involuntary chills up Hermione's spine). None of them seemed capable enough.
"Hol' on, I know I'm missin' someone. Ah, yes, we never caught 'er, did we?"
"Who?"
"Bellatrix Lestrange, tha's who."
Hermione promptly departed from Hagrid's cabin two minutes later.
The sun had completely set behind the Forbidden Forest as Hermione made her way back up the sloping lawns of Hogwarts, stumbling occasionally, her mind elsewhere. She felt slightly rude running out on Hagrid like that, but she knew their meeting – as pleasant as it was to spend time with her friend – was definitely over.
So. Lestrange was still free. Hermione had never heard of her capture, though there had been countless rumors… it all faded into obscurity eventually and the thought had completely evaded her mind. But it was her who the Death Eaters were after; they theorized that Bellatrix could help them return to power. And, as much as Hermione didn't want to think it, they were right. Lestrange was the only person in the entire known world that was powerful enough, however weak she was now. The same person who killed so many people Hermione cared for, including her own parents.
Hermione jumped several feet in the air at the thought; honestly, she was quite afraid. Or perhaps that was just due to the rustle in the trees to her right. It was too dark to see in through the dense forest, as there was no moon, but Hermione definitely detected a movement that wasn't caused by the wind (seeing as there was no wind, either).
She stopped cold in her tracks, the hair on her arms standing on end. An odd feeling that told her she was being closely watched sent shivers coursing throughout her body. Looking to both sides and behind her, Hermione saw no one, and focused her attention on the spot to her right again. Whatever had been there disappeared, but she couldn't shake off an awful, foreboding feeling.
"Hello?" she called uncertainly, still rooted to the spot. An owl hooted in the distance, startling her. "Erm – is someone there? Hagrid?"
There was another small, almost inconspicuous rustle that shook several leaves off a nearby bush. For a moment, Hermione thought she heard muted voices, though she couldn't detect where they were coming from; it was most likely just the wind, she told herself.
But there was no wind.
"Hello?" she called out again, moving closer towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A twig snapped; she looked down to see her left foot standing on a branch and heaved a sigh of relief.
She parted the thorny branches of the trees and entered the Forest, fumbling for her wand in her pocket. She drew it out, muttered Lumos as quietly as possible, and shone the light around the surrounding trees. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary.
Something snapped in the distance and, looking down, Hermione saw her feet treading on nothing except dirt. It was clear that she was not alone. She cast her light down and discreetly began moving deeper into the forest, following remote sounds that, she convinced herself, were definitely voices.
The Forest was chilly; Hermione rubbed her arms, wishing she had her cloak with her, and also wishing she was somewhere else altogether. Sipping tea in front of Hagrid's fireplace was a very warm and inviting idea. She should have stayed just a while longer. Even sitting in the staff room, reading a nice thick book was better than playing detective in a dangerous forest engulfed in pitch black darkness – even if Harry and Ron were seated two tables over.
Something was moving behind a large tree up ahead. Slowing her pace to what felt like a toddler's crawl, Hermione stealthily moved closer, making sure to conceal herself behind a tall bush not far from the scene. Two people were conversing quietly; she strained her ears to hear their exact words.
"… late again, and making a commotion loud enough for the whole school to hear. So incompetent these days…" someone said, softly and rapidly. Hermione couldn't tell whether it was a man or woman, but the tone made her cringe nonetheless.
"I have what you asked for," said a second voice, one that Hermione felt she had heard before. It was high-pitched and rather squeaky, but the intonation was stern and mysterious.
"Good," said the first voice sharply. There was a faint noise that sounded to Hermione like parchment being passed between the two figures. Deciding to take a risk, she raised her head slightly from above the bush, chancing a glimpse of the speakers. She couldn't make out their faces – they were both hidden by the hood of their cloaks – but one was a great deal shorter than the other.
"Got the right person, then?" said the tall one, examining something in their hands. "All the information's here on her? Granger it is?"
Hermione nearly stopped breathing. For a moment, she thought they had seen her, but she was still concealed behind the bush and the two figures were not looking her way. But they had just spoken her name. As she was the only Granger left they could be conversing about, there was no doubt in her mind that they were unquestionably speaking about her.
Then with a threatening pang of anxiety, Hermione realized they were referring to the parchment the tall person held in their hands. Something about Hermione was written on it. While she had no clue whatsoever what was going on and how she was tied in, she didn't trust these two mystifying figures in the least and was prepared to take action. Whatever was written on the parchment, Hermione had to find out.
She put out the small light still emitting from her wand and racked her brain with options. Coming to a decision, she swiftly stood and pointed her wand at the two people behind the tree, shaking slightly while trying to remain fearless.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" she shouted. The conversation ceased as the two people turned their heads to see who had shouted; the small figure was caught off guard and was thrust backwards, but the taller one ducked impulsively as half Hermione's spell hit the tree, showering her own self with sharp pieces of bark.
The smaller person, who was lying in a mangled mess in a bush, screamed loudly as their partner yelled something indecipherable in Hermione's direction. With a blinding flash of light, Hermione was knocked off her feet; she was shoved to the side and headfirst into another tree, nearly getting knocked unconscious. Groggily, she ducked behind a large trunk, holding her breath and trying to listen for the footsteps of her opponent.
Confused, Hermione heard nothing except the ragged breathing of the figure in the bush, who was obviously too frightened to move. She strained her eyes against the darkness, looking for something, anything –
The leaves above her head moved and a figure jumped down on top of her, pushing her to the ground. Struggling to take the wand firmly secured in Hermione's grip, the person pinned her against the earth, kicking her shins repeatedly. Hermione managed to roll over and jump to her legs, leaving her opponent squirming on the forest floor. She darted around a couple trees and yelled, "STUPEFY!" with as much energy as she had left, but the person blocked Hermione's attempt, rebounding the spell off a tree very close to Hermione's left. Running out of ideas (and hiding places), Hermione desperately dove into ditch when she heard her rival form the beginning syllables of an Unforgivable Curse.
Glancing over at the frightened person (who, she noticed, was actually a child) watching the battle in the bushes, Hermione was almost sure it was – but it couldn't be. What in the world would they be doing in the Forbidden Forest, associating with clearly Dark Wizards like the one Hermione had torn her attention away from?
She realized her mistake of becoming distracted all too late; someone hit her ruthlessly over the head with a very heavy object, causing her vision to instantaneously become hazy. Her head pounded with pain as she fought to keep conscious… was she hallucinating, or were more figures appearing on the scene? An indistinct person was coming near her, ready to strike again… but, no, they were recoiling… something was driving them back, and they were disappearing into the forest. There were more screams, either from a human being or from inside her own mind… someone else came into her view, but before Hermione could make out who it was, the pain won her over and her vision went entirely blank.
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Author's Notes, Edition Two: I really like adding notes at the end of the story. Makes it a good deal longer, really.
So! A cliffhanger! It didn't originally start out that way; I had planned to write some more, er, stuff that would be important to the plot, but then this chapter would've ended up near fifteen pages on Word again. So, next chapter, I promise. =)