Chapter 18: A Knut for Your Thoughts
The fact that Ron was now out of the picture- probably- in both the secret lives of Hermione and Alexis, however, does not have huge importance at this part of the story. The thing that the reader needs to refocus on at this point is the scream and why there was a scream. Though the first event was soon forgotten in the time period between September 19th and October 27th, that didn't matter, for the night's event was to repeat, and this time, Harry, Hermione and Alexis were not the only ones to hear.
Harry was enjoying dinner in the Great Hall with his friends the evening of Sunday the 27th of October. Halloween was approaching just around the corner. All the 6th year Gryffindors had finished their homework the day before and the fact resulted in extra energy and happiness for all. Ron was once again eating his favorite food, mashed potatoes, while Alexis and Hermione tried to interest Harry in something red with a lot of legs, something that he was very reluctant to try.
"I wouldn't eat that- that crustation if I were about to die of starvation," Harry said, leaning away from Alexis, who was trying to tempt him with lobster by mimicking an airplane.
"Oh come on, Harry." Hermione said, looking somewhat disappointed. "It's really good. Plus, they don't usually serve it!"
"I wonder why," Harry raised his eyebrows as he once again dodged to the side of Alexis' teasing fork. "The things still have eyes; the house-elves are probably going to have nightmares."
"Harry, you have no taste in good food." Alexis said, finally giving up and putting the lobster in her own mouth. "You won't get anywhere in life if you don't-" Just then something white and slightly transparent came hurtling through the solid wood of the Great Hall doors, shrieking as it went. Immediately recognizing the ghost, the Grey Lady of the South tower, the whole student body fell silent as they listened to her words.
"It is happening again!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs, zooming up the isle towards to the Staff Table. "It is happening again! The portraits! Someone is in the castle!"
The ghostly lady stopped in the center of the dining hall, and floating three or four inches off the ground, she slowly rotated so that she scanned the face of each and every student. They were all deadly silent, as were the teachers.
"This is the end; they will kill us all. They will-"
But Dumbledore cut her off.
"Everyone stay where you are!" His voice boomed across the Great Hall. "Minerva, watch over the students. Severus! Hagrid! Follow me! Others to your stations!"
With these words the teachers, all except for McGonnagal, flooded from the Great Hall, which by then had turned from stunned silence to pandemonium.
"Again?" Seamus Finigan yelled above the din. "What did she mean by 'Again?'"
"Is this like what happened with Sirius Black?" The comment sent a wave of whispers throughout the entire hall.
"I want to go home!" Harry heard someone yell, probably a first year.
"What was she talking about?" Hermione looked slightly panicked, though Alexis and Ron bore expressions of excitement.
"The portraits! The scream." Harry said, thinking as he glanced around the group of four. Jack came racing up to them to stand beside Alexis, asking if she was allright.
"I'm fine, Jack." Alexis pushed off his hug, making him don a slightly surprised expression as his girlfriend searched the room, grinning in excitement and hopping up and down as she tried to see outside the Great Hall doors, which had been left open. Just at that moment the Head Boy and Girl pushed them shut simultaneously, obviously having been ordered to by Professor McGonagall.
"The scream?" Hermione grabbed Harry's wrist amid the panic. "How do you know!"
"I talked to McGonagall- I- let's go." He dodged through the melee of students, trying to get to their head of house. Hermione followed him, still clinging to his wrist.
"Harry-" She knocked into someone and quickly apologized. "Harry- when did you-"
"Silence!" Before Harry and Hermione could get to her, McGonagall raised her voice, quieting the students in the Great Hall. "Stop this." She looked slightly winded, but her voice was still stern. "Look at yourselves; running around; tripping over one-another. I want each of you to take the nearest seat and put your heads down. Not a word, from any of you. There is nothing to panic about."
She said this with such a regal tone that each and every student slowly obeyed her command. Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione, who was still holding his hand.
"What now?" He mouthed at her. Wordlessly she pulled him towards the end of the Ravenclaw table and they sat down across from each other, next to a group of second years. Hermione still looked anxious when McGonagall spoke again;
"Heads down," she commanded.
The second years next to Harry and Hermione quickly obliged and the two sixth years followed their example, putting their heads down against the cool wood of the banquet tables, which McGonagall had cleared of all dinner remains.
The whole hall was silent and all one could hear were the soft footsteps of the Head Girl and Boy, as well as the deputy headmistress. The hall doors creaked open and shut several times and teachers exchanged whispers, words which none of the students could interpret. Harry could hear Hermione breathing across from him, as well as his other neighbor, a small, blonde boy, fidgeting in his seat. Once, he quickly glanced up to try and see where Ron and Alexis were sitting, but he ended his search when the Head Boy shot him a stern glance.
It seemed like hours until someone lightly tapped his shoulder and he was able to look up. Dumbledore stood, beckoning for Harry to follow him.
"Why?" Harry whispered, but the Headmaster pressed a finger to his lips and began walking away from Harry's table. The boy quickly got to his feet and met Hermione's eyes, for the girl had picked up her head and was looking at him, her face slightly worried and confused. The fidgeting boy had stopped his nervous habits to peek at Harry from under his arm as well.
"Harry?" Hermione reached out and touched his fingers, which trailed along the table as he began to walk away.
"I don't know." He mouthed over his shoulder as he followed Dumbledore. "I'll be back."
Harry turned around as Hermione put her head back down on the table, but he could still feel numerous eyes on his back as he left the Great Hall. He heard McGonagall shush several students as the Head Boy closed the double doors behind Harry.
"Professor, I don't-" Harry said to Dumbledore as they met outside the Great Hall.
"I know Harry- you want to know why you're here." The Headmaster paused as they walked, passing a scurrying Professor Flitwick. Dumbledore fiddled with a string on his blue robes as Harry watched him, waiting expectantly.
"Minerva- Professor McGonagall has informed me that you heard the last scream?" Harry nodded, still waiting. "And she told you that we did not know anything about who was in the castle- the person seen by the portrait-?"
"She never told me that there was anyone in the castle." Harry felt his heart skip a beat as he and Dumbledore walked further through the castle, in a direction which Harry knew lead do Dumbledore's office.
"Well, you've heard it now." The Headmaster sighed and looked ahead.
"Hermione- she ran into something on the way back from astronomy." Harry said quietly, catching Dumbledore's attention. "She- she claimed that it- he- she- was human. We convinced her that it was probably just Peeves. I should have mentioned it to someone- I-"
"It makes no difference now."
Harry grew silent as they rounded a corner and came upon the goblin at the entrance to Dumbledore's office; or where the goblin used to be. Now there was just a crumbled mess of stone. Harry let himself draw a breath faster than usual, stopping in his tracks.
"The- the-"
"Yes, Harry." Dumbledore put a hand on the boy's shoulder, steering him through the hole in the wall. "We shall all mourn his death." Harry glanced over his shoulder to see the head of the goblin, halfway down the other corridor, broken into several pieces.
They stepped onto the familiar revolving staircase, letting it move them upward. Harry still looked back at the broken wreckage of the goblin.
"The portraits- they confirmed who broke into the castle today- the second time." Dumbledore said as they rose higher. Harry turned and looked up at the ancient face. "They confirmed the face of Belatrix Lestrange."
Harry didn't say anything. He let the words seep into his head, echoing off his neurons, and sending a flood of feelings through his body.
"She wanted-?" Harry paused as they came to the door of Dumbledore's office.
"Yes- she was looking for something, Harry." Dumbledore turned the doorknob and slowly revealed the wreckage of his office to Harry. The whole scene flowed over the boy's mind calmly, and Harry stood, emotionless, surveying the once grand room.
Papers were strewn across the floor; drawers had been pulled out of the large desk and dumped onto its surface. Every painting had been either shifted or flung from the wall entirely; someone had obviously been looking for a safe. The windows were all wide open, as were the doors leading to Dumbledore's bedroom and the small bathroom to the left. Books had been ripped from their shelves. Wallpaper had been torn from the stone chamber walls and the carpet had been pulled off to one side of the room. The large cupboard behind Dumbledore's desk had been flung open. One of the shelves had fallen crooked and its contents had been removed and scattered over the floor, leaving dark, polished wood and nothing more.
Harry turned towards the Headmaster, who was surveying the room with an extreme sadness in his eyes.
"Did she- did she find what she wanted?" Harry was still trying to figure out why Belatrix had come into Dumbledore's office.
"Yes," the Headmaster turned to his pupil, his face grave. "She found what she wanted." He slowly walked over the broken furniture and objects to the cupboard and as Harry watched, he stooped to pick up a small slip of parchment from the bottom shelf.
"I don't think that there's an easier way to tell you." Dumbledore approached Harry and handed him the slip of paper and the boy accepted it, reading silently.
A Knut for your thoughts.
A single, bronze knut was taped to the parchment.
As the entire meaning of the scene hit Harry, full force, he turned to sit on the chair next to the door.
A knut. A knut for your thoughts. For his thoughts. The note was to Dumbledore-- about the pensive. The pensive was where Dumbledore stored his memories, one of them being an exact recollection of the prophecy. The pensive was gone, and Voldemort would know the phrophecy- their phrophecy- the one about Harry and the Dark Lord. As soon as Belatrix returned to him- then Voldemort would know that he had to kill Harry- so… Voldemort probably already knew.
………………………
Harry walked through the corridor half an hour later, hands in his pockets as he stared at the flagstones slowly passing beneath his feet. Dumbledore had explained what there had been to explain. The portraits, both times, had seen something move in the shadows. Belatrix had apparently destroyed the goblin at the entrance to Dumbledore's office and then upturned the Headmaster's private chambers in search of something that would reveal the prophecy. Having found what she had come for, she escaped through a window just as the portraits in the office were able to alert the Grey Lady and have her send message to the Great Hall. Harry had questioned the Headmaster if she would indeed take the pensive to Voldemort. The man had confirmed that it was the likely thing for her to do for her master. After their talk and several reassuring words from Dumbledore, as well as an order to stay inside the castle at all times and report to his dormitory immediately, Harry had been sent on his way.
Harry had kept himself under control this entire time and he himself had earlier questioned the fact that he was so calm. Maybe it was shock. The whole thing had come so suddenly. Though he had suspected something as soon as Dumbledore had come to retrieve him from the Great Hall, Harry had never acted surprised. He had felt as if he'd already lived through the events before, as if he was in a dream. But now, walking towards the Great Hall, the sounds of students returning to their dormitories becoming more and more prominent over his own footsteps, Harry realized that every dream would come to an end, and there was always a time when one had to wake up and face reality. Voldemort would want Harry dead before he finished his studies and the hours were ticking by.
………………………………………
Hermione was slightly worried when Harry did not return before McGonagall dismissed them all to go to their houses. She lingered in the Great Hall, pretending to be looking for a quill that she had lost during the panic. The girl had sent Ron and Alexis on without her, saying that the quill was very special and she just couldn't accept the fact that she'd lost it.
"Any luck, Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall smiled weakly, picking up a fork that had been dropped during the scramble.
"No, Professor." Hermione said.
"Well, I'm about to retire for the night. If you want to keep looking I can give you the keys so that you can lock up."
"That's alright." Hermione shifted her cloak, as well as Harry's own, from one arm to the other. All four of the friends had taken their cloaks to dinner, having just come in from a walk before eating. "I think that I'll just go to bed as well," Hermione sighed. "I probably just misplaced the quill anyhow."
Hermione followed the professor out of the Great Hall and waited as she locked up. They walked quietly together, the corridors deserted, until they reached the marble staircase, where their paths would part.
"Goodnight Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall. "And talk to Mr. Potter. You're good with kind words and I assure you that it would do him good if you gave him some." With this she entered her office and closed the door behind her, leaving Hermione to begin her accent of the staircase as she tried to understand what the teacher had said.
When she had reached about the halfway point in the stairs, Hermione heard footsteps below, and thinking that it was Professor McGonagall with something more to tell her, Hermione turned. But the person one hundred feet below was not the Transfiguration teacher, but Harry, walking slowly and somewhat painfully across the Entrance Hall. Hermione mouthed his name, but no sound would come out, so she watched in silence as he made for the stairs, then paused and turned. Hermione bit her lip as she heard Harry make an undistinguishable sound, seemingly change his mind, and walk quickly out of the castle and into the wintry outdoors.
Hermione glanced around her. No one else had seen his desperate moves. Looking down at the bundle in her arms she picked out Harry's cloak and her own. He would be cold; it was windy and almost cold enough to snow.
Hermione quickly made up her mind. Fastening her own cloak at the neck, she hurried down the stairs and through the front doors of the castle.
Hermione stood on the grassy slope above the lake, looking down at Harry on the dock. The wind, strong enough to whip around her hair, was pulling at his button-up shirt and obviously chilling him to the bone. The boy stood, hunched over, looking down at the black water of the lake, which rippled in the wind. Every once in a while he would rub his arms to try to bring the life back into them, his teeth grit in the cold night air.
Letting out her breath slowly, Hermione walked forward quietly until she herself was standing on the dock.
"Harry?" She said softly, almost nervously. At the voicing of his name, the boy turned long enough to recognize her, then stared back into the depths of the lake.
"I need space." He choked out.
Hermione didn't reply to his words. She walked forward and slipped Harry's cloak over his shoulders, letting him fasten it as she hugged him from behind.
"You looked a bit cold," she said over his shoulder.
"I need to be alone."
"Harry-" Hermione stepped to his side and stared at the lake as well, watching the ripples hit the dock and then retaliate outward. "McGonagall was worried about you." She paused and looked over at her friend. He turned his face away, quivering. "Is there something- something that happened tonight that- involved you?"
He took a shaky breath, then turned to her. He bit his lip as tears mulled in his eyes, his face scared as that of a small child.
"Harry-" Hermione's voice caught in her throat as she reached out to touch her friend's arm. He looked back out over the lake.
"Do you- do you remember the prophecy?" Harry said, his voice breaking. "At the end of last year?" Hermione stared questioningly at him.
"Yes. I remember."
"Dumbledore witnessed it; when the seer foretold-" he swallowed. "Dumbledore had the memory, and the ministry did in the glass orb. But we broke the orb."
Hermione looked out over the lake, her hand still on Harry's arm, waiting for him to continue. Harry did, though shakily.
"Belatrix Lestrange broke into Hogwarts tonight, and she's taken Dumbledore's pensive."
Hermione quivered. "She'll take it to- to him?"
"Yes."
They were in silence for several moments, looking out at the lake.
"What does that mean for you?" Hermione said softly. At first she didn't think that Harry would reply, but a minute or so later, when he did, she listened, trying just as hard as Harry to keep her face neutral.
"The one-" Harry's voice broke, but he continued to speak. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches." He paused here, steadying himself. When he felt it fit, he continued to speak.
"Born to those who have thrice defied him- born- born as the seventh month dies." Harry's voice was unusually high, and when Hermione looked up at him she saw that the pent up tears had been released, causing rivers down his face. She looked down at her toes, suddenly feeling insecure.
"And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal," Harry pushed the words from his mouth, speaking faster and faster as he continued. "But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not- and- and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."
Harry choked on his words and his breath caught in this throat.
"I-" Hermione didn't quite understand. She looked at her feet, thinking, and suddenly it all began to come together in her mind. She looked up at his face.
"Hermione-" Harry croaked, sniffing as he looked sideways at her. Wordlessly she pulled him into a hard, clenching hug.
"Herms- I'm a marked man; I'm going to die." Harry said, almost crushing his friend's shoulder as his body shook. "He knows now- he'll kill me before-"
"Stop, Harry." Hermione hissed into his chest, silencing him. "Don't-" Hermione cut off her sentence as she broke down completely, expelling heaving, shuddering sobs. "You won't die- Harry. He'll die. He will—I swear, I won't let him touch you."
"That's not- you don't get it! Only I can-"
"STOP IT!"
Hermione balled up the back of his shirt and slowly pulled Harry down to the surface of the dock.
They huddled together, hiding from the wind as they mourned together, crying for something that had not yet disappeared.
After several minutes, Hermione found her voice once more. "Harry- you can kill Voldemort. You can get rid of him. The prophecy said so, and Ron and- and Alexis- and me too- we won't let him kill you. We won't let him, Harry. We won't." She clung to him as he buried his head into her knotted, windswept hair.
Long moments passed, leaving both of them chilled and shivering. Storm clouds above flashed with lightning, predicting rain as the wind tore at their clothes. Tens of minutes later, Hermione spoke again.
"Harry- we should go-" she said, shifting and sniffing away the last of her tears. "Let's go inside, Harry."
A/N- and just as a note, please do not leave me reviews just to advertise your own fan fiction- once is alright, just to tell me that you're writing something, but I don't appreciate it when people just review to advertise. I expect that you are reading my FF b/c you want to know what happens next, not b/c you want me to come read your story. I actually do visit many of your profiles, and if I am interested in your stories, I read them, so it really doesn't matter if you advertise in the first place, b/c I'll probably already know about your story. Again, I do not mind one mention of your own FF, but constant comments on when YOU updated last, and what's happening in YOUR ff- well, I'll just say that they'll be deleted.