A/N: Many thanks for all the great reviews I received for Chapter 8. Here, for your reading pleasure, is the solution to the cliffhanger - Chapter 9!
Chapter Nine
Madam Pomfrey straightened up from her position over the bed of Ginny Weasley. With a sober look on her face, she addressed the group that had gathered in the hospital wing. "This is extremely serious. I must know exactly what happened to her before you brought her here."
Fred and George exchanged glances, and as if by silent understanding, George spoke first. "She's been working with us at the shop. We were planning to make a long day of it, so we sent her out," he choked for a moment, then continued, "to the Leaky Cauldron to bring us back some lunch."
Fred picked up the story. "When she didn't come back, we went out to look for her. We found her...we found her lying in an alley behind the Apothecary. She was moaning and crying out." He looked desperately at Madam Pomfrey. "There wasn't a mark on her. We decided to get her home to Mum right away."
Mrs. Weasley, her face swollen and tear-streaked, continued. "I tried everything as the day went on. She's been running fevers and crying out constantly. It's as if she's terrified." Her eyes went to the Headmistress, who stood beside Arthur's chair, her hand on his shoulder. "We didn't dare take her to St. Mungo's. It's not safe. We had to..." Her voice trailed off as she dissolved in tears again.
Professor McGonagall nodded. "You did the right thing, bringing her here. I agree that St. Mungo's is unsafe for any Order member. Poppy, what do you think?"
Madam Pomfrey did not hesitate in her diagnosis. "She's been cursed...and if we don't figure out what it is and how to counteract it, we'll lose her." Her own eyes were bright with unshed tears as she spoke. "There isn't much time."
The figure on the bed began to thrash and moan. "No...stop! NO! Don't take me...!"
Madam Pomfrey turned back to the bed, trying to sooth the terrified girl.
"There has to be something we can do." Mrs. Weasley's sobbing increased. "It's so hard to see her like this."
Professor McGonagall stood. "I shall confer with the other professors. Perhaps one of them might have an idea." She hurried out the door.
"I'll go with her. She might need messages sent or errands..." Neville followed her out, accompanied by Luna.
"What could it possibly be?" Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, the three of them sitting a short distance from the bed, afraid to be too far away.
Harry answered, his voice low and furious. "It's Voldemort. He waited until she was outside Hogwarts' wards where he could get to her." He slammed his fist into his leg. "I thought she'd be safer away from me. I told her to leave. I told her..."
Ron shook his head. "It's not your fault. I'll bet he's been planning to get her ever since he failed to kill her in the Chamber of Secrets. He did it like this so that we would have to watch...to see her..." The words wouldn't come.
Hermione put her arms around Ron. "Hang on. Maybe the professors will come up with something. We can't give up hope." A whimper came from the bed and the three of them froze for a moment, watching Ginny's parents and Madam Pomfrey as they bent over the bed. Suddenly, an idea occurred to Hermione, almost too horrible to contemplate. She gasped out loud, and for a moment thought she might faint. Harry seized her arm tightly.
"What is it?" He shook her arm.
She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. When she spoke, she could only whisper in dread. "He knows...about the locket...that we destroyed it. What if he's using Ginny to create another Horcrux?"
Ron's voice cracked as he whispered. "Bloody hell!"
The day wore on, and the girl in the bed continued her moans and cries. The Mediwitch dosed her with any remedy that could possibly help, but her condition continued to worsen. As evening came, she stopped crying out, her face gray, her breathing shallow. Madam Pomfrey turned to the distraught parents. "I think you'd better send for anyone else that you would want to have here."
Mrs. Weasley gave a wail of anguish and started to collapse. Her husband took her in his arms, and with Madam Pomfrey's help, got her over to another bed. He turned to the group with a look of despair. "Fred, George...send for Bill and Fleur to come back, and get word to Charlie to get here as soon as he can." He bowed his head, his shoulders shaking.
Fred and George got up wordlessly and left the room. The minutes stretched on, the only sounds in the room the agonized wailing of Mrs. Weasley, and the soft murmuring of her husband.
Suddenly Harry came to his feet so quickly that his chair fell over behind him. Hermione grabbed for him. "What...?" He shook her off and ran from the room.
Ron dashed a hand across his eyes and said, "I'd better go after him."
Feeling helpless, Hermione watched him leave, then went to sit beside Ginny's bed. She reached over and took the girl's hand in her own, dismayed at how cold Ginny's fingers felt. Her eyes brimmed with tears that overflowed and ran unchecked down her face.
"Ginny...Ginny...please don't go. I don't want to be without you. You're the only sister I've ever had." The tears were blinding her. "Oh God, Ginny...please don't die. Ginny...please, please don't die."
Footsteps sounded behind her. One pair of arms lifted her and pulled her into them, and another pair of arms came around her. Two heads bent down to her own, and Hermione and the twins wept helplessly together.
Evening turned into night, and the hours of darkness crawled by. People came and went in the room. The Hogwarts professors entered at intervals, conferred with Madam Pomfrey and left again. Harry and Ron returned, both ashen-faced, taking places at the foot of Ginny's bed and absolutely refusing to be moved by anyone. A message came from Charlie; he'd left Romania and would be there by dawn.
A sudden flurry at the door caused everyone to start. Bill and Fleur, hand in hand, hurried into the room, and Fleur went immediately to Mrs. Weasley. Hermione noted distractedly that Fleur was even beautiful when she was crying. Throwing her arms around her mother-in-law, Fleur assured her, "As soon as zee word came, we were on our way to you. We weel stay 'ere now, Bill and I."
Bill had gone to Ginny's bedside, and now he knelt there, his hand against her cheek, and tears running over the scars on his face. The sight was almost more than she could bear, so when Professor Flitwick came in to speak to Madam Pomfrey, Hermione got up and followed him. The little professor looked up at her kindly.
"Ah, Miss Granger, a terrible night for everyone." He turned to Madam Pomfrey. "I've cast charms to reinforce the wards around the hospital wing. I believe we've effectively blocked any further outside influence reaching Miss Weasley." He shook his head sadly. "I wish we could stop the effects of the curse as easily." He hesitated, then said in a quiet voice. "A pity that Severus is no longer here."
"Professor Snape?" Hearing him speak the name shocked her. "Why?"
"This is Dark Magic at its worst. Only he might know of a potion that could save her at this point." He sighed. "Perhaps it would be too late even for that."
Hermione stared at him, then shook her head. "No, it can't be too late. I...I think I'll go to the Headmistress." Her mind felt fogged as she walked out into the hall, the hospital wing doors swinging quietly shut behind her. Only he might know... She broke into a run. Perhaps...too late... She raced through the corridors, and reaching the staircase silently begged, Please! I need to get to the Headmistress's office! Staircases swung in every direction, and a direct route lined up for her. Gasping for breath, she continued her race down the obliging stairs and finally down an adjacent hallway, stopping in front of the gargoyle guarding the entrance to McGonagall's office. Too winded to speak, she watched in amazement as the gargoyle spun aside, leaving access to the entrance open to her. She jumped to the spiral staircase, and sent off a silent Thank you! as it swirled her up to the office door.
Stepping into the office, Hermione found it empty. Quickly, she moved across the room to Dumbledore's portrait, and almost wept. The portrait was black and quiet and the Headmaster was nowhere to be seen. Retracing her steps back down and past the gargoyle, she headed for the third floor hallway.
Sconces flared to life as she made her way down the hall, one hand pressed to the aching stitch in her side. The portrait at the end of the hall was occupied, but not by the Headmaster as she'd hoped. Murphy the Muddlesome sprawled over the edges of his chair and regarded her with distaste.
"Oh, not you again! I'm beginning to regret every having loaned my frame to Albus. It's one disruption after another." His high-pitched voice whined at her.
Still trying to catch her breath, Hermione nodded to him and gasped out, "You've been so patient. I really do appreciate it." He eyed her dubiously. "But I need to reach the Headmaster. It's urgent, sir...truly a matter of life and death."
He shook his head. "I haven't spoken to him in days. Who knows where he might be?"
"Please, could you try and find him for me?" An expression of surprised outrage crossed the face of the fat wizard. "I wouldn't ask, but a student is dying and we need him now!" In spite of her attempt to stay calm, frightened tears started again.
"Oh bother!" Murphy the Muddlesome hefted his bulk out of the chair and started towards the edge of the portrait. "I'll look for him, but you'll owe me for it, young lady!"
"Yes, thank you!" Hermione called after him as he began to disappear. "I'll stay away...I promise!"
Unwilling to waste time waiting in the lonely hallway, Hermione searched her mind frantically. An antidote for a Dark Spell...where to look? The number of volumes in the library dealing with Dark Magic was minimal, even in the Restricted Section. A vision of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in Slytherin's library appeared in her mind. Hogwarts had responded to her plea for assistance in getting to the Headmistress's office. If she could find her way back to that library, might she not be allowed in under the circumstances? If she could find something to help Ginny...
As quickly as she could, fighting her fatigue, she made her way down to the lonely corridor where she'd encountered Snape before. Entering the empty classroom near the bottom of the staircase, she moved without hesitation to the opposite wall. The entrance had been here...somewhere. She closed her eyes and hurled herself at the wall, only to find herself sprawled on the floor with an aching shoulder. With a huff of frustration, she stood up to try again. Raising her fist, she began to pound it along the wall, her anxiety increasing as no opening became evident. Fighting a rising sense of panic, she turned, pounding her way down the wall again, a little slower this time. Midway she stopped, leaning on the wall, looking to both sides where unbroken stone stretched to the opposite walls. Still unwilling to give up, she'd raised herself to restart the search when a hand shot through the wall, grabbed her wrist and pulled. With a startled cry, she was yanked through the stone wall in front of her.
"Perhaps you should have tried to breach the wall with your head, rather than your shoulder, Miss Granger. It's much the harder object, I believe." The welcome sight of Severus Snape standing over her was enough to make the tears well up again. Grasping both her arms, he gave her an angry shake. "Enough of that!" Releasing her, he started down the hallway. "Come. There is no time to waste."
Hermione followed Snape into the Slytherin library, and found a number of books spread out over a nearby table. Her eyes went to his face, and he answered her unspoken question. "I have been here all day, searching for some way to counteract the Dark Lord's curse. It is an extremely powerful spell, but that is hardly surprising. The Dark Lord is nothing, if not vindictive." Hermione shivered, and he nodded in agreement. "Yes, his hatred is something to fear, and you and your friends have earned it several times over."
Looking at the pile of books in front of her, and at the drawn face of her former professor, Hermione said softly, "This is good of you, to risk so much to save Ginny."
His face hardened. "Don't fool yourself, Miss Granger, that my motives are altruistic. I care little who the victim is. My intention is to block the Dark Lord from creating another Horcrux."
Stung, Hermione snapped back at him. "No, you wouldn't care, would you? None of us mean anything, just pawns...pawns in your game!" She stared at him in disappointment. "How you despise us."
A strange look came over his face, but she didn't stop to analyze it. "Tell me what you want me to do, where you want me to look." Her voice cracked. "As you said, there is no time to waste."
Joining her at the table, he placed a stack of books in front of her. "Start here. Anything that appears to be a possible antidote for a wasting illness caused by a Dark Curse should be brought to my attention."
Hermione took a seat, and opened the first book. Across from her, Snape did the same. An hour passed, and she'd gone through her pile of books without results. Snape was absorbed in a heavy tome, paying no attention to her. Reaching over, she pulled another book from in front of him, and opened it. Almost simultaneously, realizing her intention, he came to his feet.
"Don't touch...!"
Too late – a jolt of power surged through her arms, knocking her out of the chair and onto the floor. Sparks danced in front of her eyes and her head spun. Her fingers had curled up in pain, throbbing and burning. She was vaguely aware of being picked up off the floor and settled in a nearby chair. Slowly, her vision cleared, and she watched as Snape bent over her and gently picked up her right hand in his. Passing his wand over it, the ache disappeared and her fingers eased out of their cramped position. Setting her hand back in her lap, he picked up her other hand, and began the same treatment. Hermione bowed her head, refusing to meet his eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said.
He finished treating her, but did not relinquish her hand, seating himself on the arm of the chair. She looked up at him, bewildered.
"Miss Granger, I do not wish you to think that I am unaware of the suffering of Miss Weasley, much less the grief of her family and friends. But my purpose, first and foremost, has to be to stop the creation of another Horcrux." His eyes were dark and intent as they met hers. "If he succeeds with this one, then he will have another and another and all will be lost."
Hermione nodded. "I understand. I shouldn't have been so angry."
"Did it not occur to you that I had a reason for keeping certain of those books for my use only?"
"I didn't think..."
"No," he responded sardonically. "You did not." He stood up and drew her to her feet. "You do tend to cause an inordinate amount of trouble, Miss Granger." His lips twitched slightly, and she had the distinct impression that he was laughing at her. "Let us continue the search, and I will provide you with the books."
A short time later, he looked up from the volume that lay open in front of him. "This is it." Hermione's head snapped up; he was already getting to his feet. "We must make the potion without delay." He was heading towards the door in a swirl of robes. She jumped up and ran after him.
He led her through a series of corridors, twisting and seemingly turning back on themselves, that finally ended at a heavy wooden door at the end of a hallway. Motioning to her to get behind him. Snape opened the door slowly and peered through. There was no sound or motion from the other side. He walked through the door, indicating that she should follow. She stepped quietly behind him, and found herself in a small bedchamber
The room was comfortably appointed with rich wine-colored coverings on the double bed and the mound of pillows. A marble table flanked by two chairs, upholstered in a cream brocade, created a small sitting area on one side of the room. On the other side was a heavy mahogany wardrobe, and a skirted vanity with a large ornate mirror. The room appeared not to have been touched in a long time. A layer of dust covered all the furniture, and the bed was piled with books.
Snape appeared to take no notice of the room but moved across it to another door. Again, pausing to ascertain that no one was in the room beyond, he ushered her through. Another bedchamber – this one currently in use, decorated in tones of green and silver. Hermione's eyes widened. This was his room, no doubt. They were in Snape's quarters.
He allowed no time for her to look around, but continued on. They passed through a large sitting room with two leather chairs positioned in front of a hearth, and a massive desk, over the surface of which were strewn books and papers. Reaching the opposite door, Snape spent an even longer time checking for any possible intruders in the room beyond before entering it. Hermione followed dutifully. They were in his Potions lab. He crossed over to the main door that led out into the hallway. Closing and locking it, he then proceeded to ward the door against intrusion. Clearly, he did not intend to be taken by surprise.
Hermione took a moment to close the door behind her, and turned back to see Snape smirking at her with amusement from across the room. She flushed. Something told her that he was aware of the fact that whenever she entered the Potions lab, the first thing she did was to stand in front of his door and listen for him. Refusing to allow him to embarrass her, she headed over to the Potions table. "What ingredients do you require?"
Immediately, he reverted to Potions Master, reeling off the list of ingredients and utensils required, while she scrambled to keep up with him. It took several trips from the storeroom to the table before everything was assembled and they could begin. He snapped out instructions, and she began the painstaking preparation of roots and herbs, while he heated the base in a cauldron over a low flame.
"We are in luck that this particular potion requires little simmering time. If all goes well, it should be finished in less than two hours."
Hermione couldn't help the thought that flashed through her mind. If she can last that long.
The two worked efficiently together, Hermione adding the ingredients as directed while Snape stirred the smelly concoction. He brought the mixture to a rolling boil, and the brew went through several color changes. Finally, he reduced the heat and stepped back.
"Ten minutes to simmer, then thirty minutes to cool, and it shall be done." He paused. "It almost seems too simple a potion to act against such a powerful curse."
"How do we test it?" Hermione asked.
"We don't," Snape said. Before she could utter a protest, he went on. "If it doesn't work, it will be too late to attempt anything else." He shook his head. "No, this is the one chance and we'll have to take it." He leaned back against the Potions table and regarded her solemnly. "I trust that I do not need to remind you that any mention of your every having been in my quarters will raise awkward questions."
"To say the least," Hermione said. "Since they are supposedly warded shut, it would be assumed that I had visited them before you left Hogwarts."
Snape gave a snort of amusement. "Merlin forefend."
For a moment Hermione just watched his face, pleased at the reaction she'd gotten out of him. Then a hiss from the rapidly cooling cauldron brought her back to their task, and she was ashamed to realize that she'd forgotten about Ginny for even a moment. Alarmed by how much time had passed since she'd left the others in the Hospital Wing, she began to pace nervously.
"It will not cool any faster because of your activity, Miss Granger," Snape said.
"How did you find out that Vol...the Dark Lord was making a new Horcrux?" Hermione asked him.
"I do not know that for certain, but he was extremely pleased to have found the opportunity to curse Miss Weasley. It may be simply revenge – against Potter for having saved her before, or because he knows what she means to the boy." He paused to consider. "But I do not believe that he would forego the chance to replace the Horcrux that was destroyed in Grimmauld Place."
She nodded. "I think..."
"Hermione?" Ron's voice accompanied a knocking at the door.
She'd swung around to call a reply, when Snape crossed to her and covered her mouth with his hand. She looked at him, eyes wide, and he shook his head.
"Hermione!" Ron persisted. "Why is this door locked? Open up!"
A chime sounded behind them. The potion was ready. Snape released her and pointed to the table, and Hermione stepped over to begin the task of filling a small crystal flask with the mixture. She started and almost dropped it when the pounding at the door increased in intensity.
"Hermione! What the bloody hell is going on in there? Open the door!"
With hands that were trembling slightly, she completed the task and stoppered the flask. Placing it in a pocket of her robe, she looked at Snape, silently asking for instructions. He regarded her gravely, then held out his hand. Without hesitation, she placed her hand in his, and he led her over to the door that led to his quarters. For a moment he stood just looking at her. Hermione found it difficult to believe that a pair of eyes could be so dark and so deep, and make her feel so warm.
The pounding at the door began again. In one swift motion, Snape brought her hand to his lips, and then he was gone, the door closing behind him without a sound.
Ron's face was livid when she finally opened the door. "What the hell do you think you're doing, closing yourself up in there like that? I've been hunting all over for you!"
A stab of fear went through her. "Oh Ron! Ginny isn't..." She stopped cold, afraid to voice it.
He shook his head. "She's holding her own. But we don't know how much longer she'll last. Why didn't you open the door when I knocked?"
"I was working on a potion, and it was important that I finish it right away."
"You could have answered me at least," Ron said angrily.
"No, I couldn't. I needed to concentrate. It's for Ginny. And I need to get back to the Hospital Wing right now and talk to Madam Pomfrey!" She started running down the hall, and Ron quickly fell into place beside here. "It's a chance...it could help."
"Where did it come from? I mean...where'd you find out about it?"
"In one of the Dark Arts books in the Potions Lab...the books that belonged to Professor Snape. It's supposed to be an antidote for an illness brought on by a Dark curse." They rounded a corner and headed up a stairway.
"How do you know it won't kill her?"
"I don't," Hermione replied, beginning to gasp a little as they ascended yet another stairway. "But we know the curse will."
Down another corridor, and finally the double doors of the Hospital Wing were in sight. Hermione was falling behind Ron, and so short of breath that she wasn't sure she'd be able to talk once they got inside. When she faltered, he grabbed her by the arm and almost dragged her the remaining distance. Once through the door, the sight of Ron half-supporting an exhausted Hermione, brought the others to their feet.
"Good heavens, Miss Granger. What...?"
Hermione pulled the crystal flask out of her pocket and held it out to Madam Pomfrey. "Potion...for Ginny...found it in a book."
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and the others crowded around to look at the object she held so carefully. "How can you be sure it's the right potion?" Mr. Weasley asked desperately.
"It's supposed to treat a wasting sickness brought on by a Dark Curse," Hermione replied. "The symptoms they described are identical to what has happened to Ginny."
"But should we treat with a potion that came from the Dark Arts?" Madam Pomfrey asked.
"It has a basic healing potion for a base," Hermione explained to her. "I think it might work."
"If it's the only chance," Harry said, "we've got to take it."
"I don't think we should try it unless we're sure it won't hurt her," Ron said.
"If it hasn't been tested..." said George.
"It might make things worse," Fred finished.
"How could things be any worse?" Bill cast a worried glance at the small figure in the bed.
Mrs. Weasley stood quietly, listening to them argue. She exchanged looks with her husband. "Madam Pomfrey, do we have any alternative at this point?" she asked.
"No, Molly. I'm afraid we don't."
"Well, then..." Mrs. Weasley's face was very white, "we'll try Hermione's potion."
Madam Pomfrey took the flask, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley followed her to Ginny's bed. Between the three of them, they lifted her into position, and dosed her with the potion. Nothing happened. For five...ten...fifteen minutes, they all stood around the bed and watched, but there was no discernable change. Mrs. Weasley gulped back a sob, and her husband put his arm around her and pulled her close.
Hermione felt a stab of disappointment. She'd been so sure. Harry reached over and took her hand. "It's not your fault it didn't work. It was worth a try."
Ron sat down in a nearby chair and dropped his face into his hands. Harry walked back over to Ginny's bed, and Hermione began to cry. The vigil continued.
Early sunlight began to penetrate the windows, and still Ginny held on. Hermione was sleeping on another bed, when she heard a cry. Leaping out of the bed, she saw Charlie running towards his parents, immediately being surrounded by his siblings. Mrs. Weasley was weeping again, as he went to the bedside and reached down to gather his little sister into his arms.
She dozed again. Some time later, she was roused by another commotion in the room. She got up and hurried over to the bed, where the entire family was gathered. Madam Pomfrey was running her wand over Ginny. She looked up at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with astonishment on her face. "Her heartbeat...her respirations...all her vital signs are normal. She's...she's sleeping."
Hermione sat out by the lake, letting the warmth of the sunshine play over her, dispelling the chill of the early morning. Ginny hadn't awakened yet, and Madam Pomfrey insisted that all but her parents leave so that the room would stay quiet. They'd all complied, except for Harry. He'd stayed, and Hermione smiled, thinking that no one would be able to move him until Ginny opened her eyes again.
While she sat there, she thought about Snape. And considered the fact that her vow not to get involved with anyone until after the war was over hadn't lasted very long. Maybe involved wasn't exactly the word she should use. But something was happening between them. She pictured his eyes, exactly the way they'd looked at her before he'd kissed her hand. The same warm feeling came over her, and she wondered what might have happened if there had been more time to say goodbye.
With a sigh, she considered all the complications of her situation. She was ...what...infatuated with...captivated by...beginning to be obsessed with...a man who was a wanted murderer, a known Death Eater, despised by everyone else she cared about. Not that what everyone else thought would matter much, as realistically, he was likely to be killed before anyone found out. No matter how the war ended, whether it was won by the Dark or the Light, there would be those out there intent on his death. It was really an impossible situation.
She got to her feet and walked back to the castle. Entering the building, she was met by one of the house elves. "Miss is being asked to see the Headmistress."
Hermione nodded. "Thank you. I'll go right away."
She made her way to the office, and was surprised and a little worried to see that both the Headmistress and Professor Flitwick were there waiting for her. She took a seat when it was offered, and waited.
"Miss Granger," the Headmistress asked. "Where did you obtain the information on the potion you created for Miss Weasley."
"In one of Professor Snape's books on the Dark Arts."
"But I warded that section of his books to keep you away from them, as you recall," Professor Flitwick said.
Hermione flushed. Even though the book they'd used had come from Slytherin's library, it could have come from Snape's Dark Arts Potion books, for she had gained access to those as well. "I...I took down the wards."
The Headmistress exchanged a look with Professor Flitwick. "And exactly when did you overcome those wards?"
"The second day I was in the dungeons," Hermione replied.
Professor McGonagall's lips frowned at that, but Professor Flitwick burst out laughing. "You owe me ten galleons, Minerva. It did take her more than one day!"
Please remember - I love reviews!