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Kiss of the Traitor
Chapter Seven: Dark Promise
Harry gritted his teeth and marched through the dark cave, his wand held aloft with its tip casting light around them. Behind him, Lupin walked along, his step just a little more hesitant than Harry's. It was dawn, but the cave was dark, and somewhere deep inside, a werewolf was sleeping.
It hadn't taken Lupin long to track down Fenrir Greyback. Within three days of Harry and Hermione returning to Number 12 with the information Snape had provided them with, Lupin had set out back into the underground network he had uncovered several years before, to discover where the fearsome werewolf was now. His feverish determination had been almost frightening – fuelled by his desire to help Hermione as well as by his need to somehow find justice for himself and for all the other small children who might be condemned to the fate he had been. Having located the cave somewhere in Ireland, Harry and Lupin had set out obtaining a Portkey from the Ministry and leaving as soon as they could.
For a moment, Harry felt a twinge of guilt that he hadn't told Hermione before leaving. She would be furious, and worried, knowing they were out here with a savage maniac of a werewolf and possibly his companions. But quickly, that feeling was overborne by his powerful determination and anger. He would make them pay. He had never been less afraid of anything in his life; the only fear inside him was that they might not succeed.
"Harry," Lupin said quietly, drawing Harry's attention to himself. "The cave forks off here into narrow tunnels. I think they told me to take the left one. Perhaps I should go ahead."
Lupin's face was pale and drawn; Harry could well imagine the toll this must be taking on him. He shook his head, and managed a reassuring smile. "Don't worry," he said, having never managed to get his tongue around the name 'Remus', "I've faced worse evil than Greyback. I don't mind going ahead. I'll just trust you to watch my back."
Lupin smiled, and looked both relieved as well as grateful as he followed Harry down the left tunnel.
How long they walked, Harry would never know. It seemed like hours, but it couldn't have been more than two or three. They were walking deep into the hillside and the darkness, and the cold was beginning to creep around them and sink right through the layers Harry was wearing. But he didn't care. He was just waiting for the end of the tunnel… and Greyback.
When they finally entered a large, dimly lit cavern with a pool of water in the middle, they caught sight of the werewolf immediately. He was alone. Harry motioned to Lupin to be quiet; Greyback appeared to have just woken up, he was yawning and stretching. Lupin shook his head frantically at Harry, but Harry disregarded this and walked forwards softly over the stone floor towards Greyback. He was about ten feet away, his wand out and ready to aim a painful hex, when the grinning, spitting, horrible voice split the silence:
"Did you think I couldn't smell you the minute you entered?" Greyback whipped around, teeth bared, and Harry saw a wand flash out of his coat pocket. "CRU – "
"Protego!" cried a voice, and the Unforgivable Curse was deflected before Greyback could utter the word completely, Harry having dodged out of the way as Lupin pointed his wand at Greyback. There was a steely light in Lupin's eyes and his face was pale, bit his arm was perfectly steady. Greyback, his nose bleeding from the power of the Shield Charm, grinned toothily.
He snickered. "Well, well, if it isn't Remus Lupin. You were one of my first, Lupin, you know that? Come for seconds, did you?"
"One movement," said Lupin quietly, barely moving his mouth, "And you will be sorry. Understand?"
Greyback's eyes darted from Harry to Lupin, neither of whom lowered their wands. He must have realized that he was seriously outnumbered and that attempting to duel or attack two angry and powerful wizards was the height of foolishness. Harry was almost disappointed. His real rage was reserved for Dolohov, but he had hoped Greyback might give him an excuse to hurt him.
"What do you want?" the werewolf finally snarled.
Lupin motioned to Harry, who stepped forward, and spoke in a quiet but deadly voice: "Still in contact with your old pal Dolohov?"
Comprehension dawned in Greyback's eyes, and he grinned, picking at his teeth. "So this is what this is all about? Potter and Lupin have come here playing knights to the damsel in distress! Tell me, how is the girl? Have the cold shivers and sharp pains started yet? Or is she still in the earlier stages of death?"
"Sectumsempra!" said Harry angrily, and with a cry of pain, blood spurted from Greyback's neck and chest. Harry was shocked at himself, but could not feel any pity for this monster.
He looked at Lupin. "Can you heal him?"
Lupin was staring at Greyback clutching his face on the floor, his expression one of revulsion as well as grim satisfaction. He said softly: "Maybe I could, but I won't. He should be healed if you want him to talk, Harry, but I won't be the one to do it."
Harry strained his memory for a healing spell, found it, and cast it. Greyback stumbled to his feet, repaired but drenched in his own blood. To their disgust, he stroked a finger along his cheek and licked it, licking off the blood with an almost ecstatic expression. Harry clenched his jaw, and stared coolly at Greyback.
"Let's get a few things straight," he snarled. "You watch your mouth, or you'll taste something far worse than your own blood next time. Answer our questions, and maybe you'll live."
Greyback grinned. "Want to save the girl, don't you?"
"Tell me how."
"The sickness spell is no ordinary spell, little Potter. This is the Slow-Death Spell. Once cast, it cannot be revoked by any normal means. Once cast, it is virtually irresistible. The girl is on her deathbed, whether or not she walks or talks. Her life has merely been prolonged, but is in essence, cut off already. She has no life any longer."
Harry felt such a wave of despair and fear that he almost doubled over and threw up. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. No cure? No way of saving Hermione? Her life had already been cut off? Why didn't they just give him a death sentence?
"You're lying," he growled, steadying his shaking wand arm.
Greyback grinned, seeming to be thoroughly enjoying the effect he had produced. "Oh, lying, am I? Why don't you go try your magical spells on her then? See what happens!"
"He isn't lying, Harry," Lupin said quietly from the other side of the pool of water.
"I won't let her die!"
"Nor will I," said Lupin with a faint smile. "There's a loophole, Greyback, there always is. Tell me what it is."
Harry turned sharply towards Greyback, waiting almost breathless.
"How do you know there's a loophole?" asked Greyback with a snicker. "They mightn't be."
"SECTUM – "
"Protego," said Lupin, quietly deflecting Harry's spell. "Don't lose your temper, Harry, that's what he enjoys. Spit it out, Greyback, or Harry won't be the only one aiming terrible curses at you. Do you want to rot here the rest of your life, nothing more than a few limbs packaged into a box and given a sip of unicorn blood? Because we'll do it, believe me. I know where to find unicorns already dead. Do you want to be little more than a mass of misshapen pulp, because we can do that too… Pick your fate, Greyback… but choose wisely, and quickly, would you? We don't have all day to waste on you."
Harry could only admire Lupin's calm in the face of his nightmare, but at the same time, he wanted to push Lupin out of the way and curse Greyback with everything he had. He had given Dolohov the spell! He had caused this… Dolohov would pay, but Greyback had to pay too…
"All right," snarled the werewolf. "I'll tell you… but you won't like it."
"What do you mean – we won't like it?"
"Just what I said! What're you, thick? You won't like it, because it involves something far more dangerous than any normal antidote or cure. This one will be permanent – it can never stop. If the 'antidote', persay, stops, she'll die because she has no life of her own, remember? So I really don't think you're going to like what I'm about to tell you."
"We'll decide that," said Lupin quietly. "Get on with it, or I'll have to persuade you a little."
"Keep your pants on… I'm just saying it's dangerous and unpleasant. It might take a while to explain, though… I'm a bit hazy on the details." Greyback grinned nastily.
Harry stared at him, swallowing his anger and fear. "Will it save her life?" he demanded.
"Well, that's the interesting part, innit?" grinned Greyback, licking more blood; "Once it's set up, she's the only one who can decide whether to live or not…"
…
…
-FLASHBACK-
"Hermione, where've you been?" Harry demanded, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking at her, so relieved that she was back that he could barely speak. "We thought something must have happened to you – you left the castle without telling anybody – "
"Sorry," she said softly, "I – I had something to do."
"Something to do? Look, you can't put yourself in danger like that! If something had happened, we wouldn't have known where to find you. Do you think I could stand it if anything happened to you?" He looked at her, the instinctive anger one feels in such situations fading. He could feel his features and voice softening. "Sorry – I didn't mean to shout. I just worry about you… and the last thing I want is to see you hurt."
Hermione put her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He held her to him, slightly bewildered but also glad, because he had been dying to hold her all evening and he'd been so worried when Ginny had told him she couldn't find her. He sensed she needed comfort.
"Is something wrong?" he asked quietly.
She looked up at him. "No," she said softly, but he thought he could see the hint of a lie in her voice. "But something is up, Harry. It's very important."
"What d'you mean?"
She was pale and her eyes oddly bright, but her face was set. Harry could sense something powerful within her, but he couldn't place it.
"Harry, listen to me," she said, holding his hand and squeezing. "We need to go to the Forest."
"What? Why?"
"Because I know where the last Horcrux is, Harry! The sixth piece of Voldemort's soul! We can destroy it now, and then you'll have just him to fight… come on, Harry, come with me and I'll take you to it!" Hermione was pulling him along the corridor, towards the doors. They met nobody along the way; Harry briefly wondered where Luna and Ron where and why they weren't on guard here.
He was stunned. He couldn't believe it. "But – " he said, staring at her in wonder. "How did you find the Horcrux? What is it? Why is in the Forest? How did you know –?"
"Not now, Harry," Hermione groaned, pulling him out of the castle. "We have to get there."
Harry stopped, making her stop with him. "Hermione, answer the questions. I need to know what to be prepared for – not like the locket – "
She looked up at him, and there were tears in her eyes. He bent his head and kissed one of her eyelids, smoothing the tear away. He never could bear it when she looked at him like that, as if her heart was breaking. She smiled weakly at him, and touched his face with one cold hand. "Harry," she said softly. "Do you trust me?"
"I – "
She reached up and kissed him on the mouth, a soft, warm kiss that numbed his very senses. When she broke away, he stammered: "Of course I trust you."
"Good," she said softly, but she didn't sound like it was such a good thing after all. "Then come with me now, and please don't ask any more questions, you'll see for yourself when we get there. Hurry, Harry! Come on – quickly!"
They ran out through the cold night air, which was oddly silent in spite of the fact that members of the Order and the DA ought to have been roaming about this region as part of the castle guard. But Harry assumed Hermione must have told them to check something else, so that no one would ask questions when they were seen running towards the Forest. He followed her blindly, aware of the cold but needing only her hand in his to make him feel better. He could sense, somewhere in his gut, that something was very wrong… but it was a vague feeling and he ignored it. He knew nothing could really go wrong with Hermione here. He knew that she would never allow anything to happen to him.
They entered the cold, dark of the Forest and began making their way over the bracken and leaves on the forest floor, moving in deeper to unfamiliar parts Harry had never seen before.
"How did you even get here in the first place?" he demanded, but she shushed him softly.
They had come to a halt. Harry looked around. The mist was swimming gently through the trees, looming like dark sentinels all around them. It was unnaturally quiet. Harry could sense the presence of some nameless evil somewhere close by, and he assumed it was the Horcrux. He remembered the way he had had to kill Nagini, and shuddered slightly. He hoped the last Horcrux was in no way alive.
"Where is it, Hermione?" he asked, confused.
"Oh, Harry," she said, and the tone of her voice made him look at her. It was controlled and cool, almost detached. Her eyes were still strangely bright. "You're such a fool sometimes."
"What?" he was startled. "What are you talking about?"
"Haven't you figured it out yet?"
"Figured what out?"
And then a high, cold voice came from the darkness. "Be careful whom you trust, Potter."
Harry turned around slowly, feeling as if every bone in his body had just been frozen. Out of the shadows and darkness of two oak trees not far away from him, glided a hooded and cloaked figure with skin so pale it gleamed in the pale moonlight.
Lord Voldemort was right in front of him.
…
…
Harry took a few steps away from Greyback, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and fresh despair as the werewolf's words rang in his ears. Greyback had just explained exactly how the one and only way to save Hermione's life had to be done, and Harry could not help feeling that he had been cheated in some way, that somewhere, someone was laughing…
He turned to Lupin, and said in a quiet, detached voice that didn't seem to come from himself: "I told him we wouldn't kill him if he talked, so don't. But do anything else you want to him before we go. I've had enough of him."
Turning away, Harry went to stand beside the pool of water, staring into the clear, bluish depths. A drop of Greyback's blood had fallen into the water, and it was slowly staining the entire thing the faintest tinge of red. Harry's mind and heart were too full and too heavy for him to care much about whatever else might be going on around him, but at the same time, he had no desire to watch Lupin torture Greyback. Strange… he had always thought Lupin far too moral and human to willingly torment another.
There was a sudden howl of pain and rage, which subsided into a furious, anguished groaning. Harry turned around, curious in spite of himself, to see what Lupin had done. Had he been in a better mood, he might have laughed out loud.
Lupin had cast a spell to remove Greyback's teeth and fingernails permanently. He was little more than an angry cat without claws.
"Nice work," Harry said, cracking a smile.
Lupin looked at Greyback with an expression of strange peace. "I underestimated how good it would feel to strip him of what he holds the dearest… and save countless lives in the process. He can't even say magical incantations properly because he has no teeth."
Harry nodded wordlessly.
Lupin looked at him, and his expression softened. "Oh, Harry… I can imagine how this must hurt."
"Can you?" muttered Harry a little bitterly.
Lupin smiled faintly. "I care very much about Hermione, Harry, you know that. And believe me, I know how I would feel if Tonks was in her position and I was in yours. I know I can't begin to feel what you must be feeling now. You've endured far too much in too little time, Harry. It can't go on much longer. Have faith that it'll end soon… you can't have come all this way for nothing, either of you. Justice doesn't work like that."
"Justice doesn't come to everyone. If that were true, Sirius would still be alive."
"You're right," said Lupin in his quiet voice. "But for some of us, it's still possible if we have enough faith in ourselves and in those we love. I won't presume to be as wise or as experienced as Dumbledore, Harry. But in forty years, you do learn a few things."
Harry cracked a smile. "I guess so. Thanks."
"Don't mention it. But you need to talk to Hermione. You have work things out."
"I won't let her die," Harry said numbly. "If I have to die first, I'll do it. But I'll save her, no matter what else happens."
Lupin smiled, clapped Harry reassuringly on the shoulder, and glanced back at the groaning Fenrir Greyback. "Let's get out of this place," he said. "We could Apparate straight back, but it would be a pity to waste such a visit to Ireland. Let's have something to eat at the nearest restaurant, and then go home. It's past dinnertime anyway."
"We've been here a long time," Harry commented.
"It took him a long time to explain things to us," Lupin replied. "If you ask me, I'd say he's almost as stupid as Gregory Goyle. If you'll remember, I taught him in your third year. Quite the trial, if I may safely say so now."
In spite of himself, Harry couldn't quite repress a grin.
They turned their backs on the werewolf, and walked out of the cave.
…
…
…
It must have been ten o' clock in the night when Harry and Lupin returned to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. They entered the house to find Ron sitting in the kitchen with Luna fast asleep curled up on an armchair nearby. He appeared to be perusing Playboy again, but when they entered, he leapt up, looking relieved.
"You're back!" he said, rather unnecessarily. "What happened? Are you two all right? Did you find Greyback? Hermione said she assumed that was where you two disappeared off to."
"If there's one thing I've learnt in all the years I've known you," said Lupin conversationally, "It's that Hermione is always right. I have never known her to be truly wrong about anything – except perhaps about Quidditch."
Ron grinned. "Do you want me to call Tonks over? I can send my Patronus through the fire if you like."
"That would actually be wonderful, Ron. She did ask me to call as soon as we returned."
"Yeah, Hermione told me to make sure I told her when you got back as well – she wasn't very happy when she woke up this morning and Luna told her that she thought you and Harry had gone off to hunt the Saddleback Hunch Frog. She downed a Firewhisky pretty fast before remembering she has a strong policy against drink."
"Where is she?" asked Harry slowly.
Ron nodded upwards. "Asleep in her room. Well, probably not asleep because she's been going spare over you all day, Harry." He cocked his head and attempted to look severe, succeeding only in looking mildly doubtful. "You should have told her what you were upto! I managed to convince her to eat something and go to bed, though. She looked really tired." He looked eagerly at Lupin. "Do you want to stay once I get Tonks over and have something to eat and tell me all about what went on?"
"We just ate," said Lupin, smiling. "But I wouldn't mind a hot cocoa. I'll deal with getting Tonks here, don't worry. Luna looks like she might need to be taken up to bed. And, Harry, why don't you go upstairs and ease Hermione's mind? I can handle the story telling for the time being. Perhaps you should get some rest too."
"Okay," said Harry a little vaguely. "G'nite – and thanks again for today. I'll probably only see you in the morning, Ron."
"Sleep tight, mate."
Harry nodded, turning and leaving the kitchen. He went upstairs, his heart aching and beating a little faster as he approached Hermione's door. He had to talk to her. He had to make her realize some things, had to get her to understand. He needed her to love him. He needed her to trust him. He wondered whether, if she was awake, he ought to tell her what Greyback had said now. He didn't know whether he had the courage left in him to do it.
He reached the door, and raised a slightly shaky fist to knock quietly.
"Who is it?" Hermione's voice called wearily from inside. "If that's you again, Ron, go away."
"It's me," he said quietly. "Just wanted to let you know that we – erm – we're back. And I'm really sorry for not telling you before we left."
It felt hopelessly inadequate, but Harry didn't know what else to say.
There was silence from within the room. Harry almost turned the knob and went inside, assuming Hermione expected him to go in, but at the last moment, he turned around and walked quickly to his own room next door, shutting the door softly behind him and leaning against it in despair. He was a coward and a fool, but he couldn't face her now. She knew they were back – now perhaps, she could go to sleep. He just couldn't bear to face her now.
He lay awake in bed for a very long time after having a bath, exhausted but unable to sleep for a great deal of time. His mind was far too active and far too burdened with memories and worries for sleep to come to him easily. Eventually, however, he must have dozed off because at some point, he woke up.
For a moment, in the dim light of his room and the moonlight streaming in through a window, he had absolutely no idea what had woken him up. Then he turned his head and blinked his surprise. There was a figure sitting beside him on the edge of his bed, looking down at him. Her hair was touched by the moonlight, turning it silver, and she must have been watching him sleep. Harry stared back at her, spellbound and wondering if he was still sleeping and that this was a surreal dream. But he thought he could see sadness on her face, and knew it was no dream.
He also realized that he hadn't even tried to reach for his wand upon realizing there was someone in the room with him. Even though it had been ages since they had been in the same bedroom together like this, the old habits hadn't been forgotten.
"Hello," he said a little croakily.
He saw her smile faintly. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to wake you up. I just… wanted some company and didn't feel like being alone tonight."
"Are you all right?"
"Yes… I suppose. I was worried about you."
"I know – I'm sorry about that. I should have told you."
Hermione touched his mouth, silencing him. "Let's not talk about it. I don't want to know anything that happened there just yet. You can tell me tomorrow. I just want to be with you tonight, Harry. I've missed you so dreadfully and I just… I just feel so alone. I didn't want to miss you some more tonight."
"Well, I don't want you to go," he said hoarsely. He pushed back his quilts a little and moved over to the other side of his bed. "Do you want to go to sleep here? It's fairly warm and you must be feeling awfully cold?"
"Thank you," she said softly. She crawled into the bed beside him, and lay down, curling up into the pillow and quilts and staring up at the ceiling. He wrapped the quilts around both of them securely and watched her for a moment or two, wishing with all his heart that this could have been four years ago and that neither of them had hurt each other. There seemed to be a wall between them now, some kind of veil that separated them. He wanted nothing more than to be beyond the veil… to be on the other side of it with her.
They lay in silence for a long time, but Harry, lying on his side and watching the moonlight playing across her face, knew she wasn't asleep. Once or twice, she shivered slightly, and it was all he could do to keep from finding a spell to keep her warm.
"Harry?" she said softly, sounding lonely and afraid. "I'm so cold…"
He felt his heart hammer painfully against his ribs. How well he remembered the last time she had said that to him, in almost exactly the same way. How desperately he wished he took take it all back. Why had she brought it up now? Didn't she realize that by saying this to him, she dredged up all the old hurts?
But then, suddenly, he realized. She wasn't dredging things up. She was giving him a chance to do now what he hadn't done before… a chance, almost, at forgiveness.
"Will – will you hold me?" she asked softly, tentatively, as if afraid of being rejected.
Wordlessly, he moved closer to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her to him so that there was no space between their bodies and so that she could share his body heat. She turned towards him, her face pressed against his shoulder, and he thought he heard a choked sob somewhere deep inside her chest. He tightened his arms around her and idly stroked her hair, willing her to sleep warm and comforted for once.
"I love you, Hermione," he said softly, before he realized he was saying it. "I always will, you know. Nothing could change that."
She didn't respond, but from the way she burrowed a little deeper into his chest, he knew she was still awake and that she had heard him. His heart hurting just a little more, he closed his eyes and tried to pretend that they were not twenty-one and twenty-two years old, that they were still the young teenagers who believed in each other absolutely.
And then, so quietly he thought he might have imagined it, he heard her voice, sad and miserable: "I love you too, Harry."
In a way, it was as if he suddenly understood the meaning of happiness again. She had never really stopped loving him, she had just been protecting herself. She did love him, just as he loved her, and that she was willing to tell him meant that maybe, just maybe, she was finally able to forgive him for what he had done. But in some ways, the despair in his heart only grew. Because he knew from the tone of her voice that love him she might, but she would never again trust him.
And if she couldn't trust him, he couldn't save her.
Harry closed his eyes again and let his head rest against the top of hers, trying hard to fight the tight obstruction in his chest. A tear, hot and salty, trailed out of his burning eyes and slipped into her hair. Everything changed, he thought, when you kissed a traitor.
…
…
TBC.