Chapter Five: Waking the Dead
The next day, Hermione had all sorts of grand plans to get permission from her supervisor to fill Perce in on what happened in the Death Chamber. She wanted us to have a little talk during their lunch break, in which I could hopefully alleviate some of his lingering guilt.
I was all for it, but in the end, my opinion didn't make much difference. Hermione's boss said no. Apparently, having an Unspeakable wander around with the spirit of an uninitiated civilian lurking in her head was something of a security risk (thus my eventual Obliviation). She was ordered to stick me back beyond the Veil, first thing that morning.
As we entered the chilly, echoing Death Chamber, Hermione's thoughts turned morose. She went through the mechanical actions of brewing the potion and scrawling the symbols across the floor, her mind drifting and wandering along paths she didn't want it to take: replaying my death, my family's grief, and Percy's haunted face over and over again.
"Hey," I whispered as tears stung her eyes. "Don't be sad, love. You gave me the chance to come back, say one goodbye, and play a prank on my mum. That's far more than other people get. And hey! I even managed to pull, after a fashion."
Letting out a sob of laughter, she placed a hand over her heart and closed her eyes. "I'm going to miss you, Fred," she said. "So much."
Even more fervently than the previous night, I wished I had my own body at that moment. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, to comfort her and hold her close until her tears vanished.
It took considerable effort, but Hermione managed to calm herself and clear her mind as she sat in the middle of her scribbled circle and began to chant. This time, instead of focusing on me, she set her thoughts on the Veil itself.
A white flash went off inside her head, dazzling and disorienting. As the multicoloured spots cleared from my vision, a misty, wavering Hermione appeared before me, extending her hand. I laced my fingers together with hers, marvelling at how I could feel her in spite of both of us seeming to be made of nothing more substantial than fog. Together, we soared out of Hermione's body. A golden chain anchored Hermione's spirit to her body, but the only thing keeping me from drifting off into nothingness was the tiny hand that was tucked into mine.
Knowing it was my very last chance, I grabbed her shoulders as we flew through the cavernous chamber and crashed my lips against hers. It felt different — less substantial — than it would have if we were both more solid, but I still relished every stroke of her tongue against mine, every unneeded breath she took that came out in a pleased gasp. I could no longer hear her thoughts, but out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw her physical body's mouth quirk into a smile.
I knew she could only hold her concentration for so long, so I reluctantly ended the kiss. I thought I should say something meaningful — tell her I loved her, maybe — but I wasn't sure if it would make the renewed mourning process better or worse for her. So, I kept quiet.
The tattered black Veil fluttered in a breeze from some unknown source, looking less like drapery and more like a tomb — at least to me. As we approached it, I wondered what lay beyond. Would I see Harry's parents? Mad Eye? Sirius? Would it just be a void, an endless sleep without dreams? I thought I'd prefer the former. Sirius was quite the prankster, in his day. We could probably get up to some serious mischief in the afterlife.
"Fred?" a familiar voice whispered, rising above the other frantic, disembodied murmurs beyond the Veil. "Fred, is that you?"
"Sirius?" I replied, reaching a hand towards the sound.
Hermione mirrored my action, and I thought I heard someone else say, "Miss Granger?" in a displeased baritone.
The plan was for Hermione's spirit to ferry me beyond the Veil before returning to her body — alone. Remember how swimmingly her plan went the first time, when she was just trying to communicate with me? Yeah. Take that mix-up and multiply it by ten to the power of "oh, damn." That was about where we ended up.
Hermione's focus snapped, making the symbols leap from the floor and whoosh around her body in a violent, dangerous blur. The grip of her spirit's fingers tightened around mind, but I could do nothing to help. Just as both of our hands made contact with the Veil, feeling two different hands behind it, the spell flew apart with a teeth-chattering bang and a flash, just like the first time.
Once Hermione came to and opened her eyes, it didn't take me long to realise that I was back in her body. Thankfully, so was she. I was so relieved that she was unharmed that I didn't immediately notice the grumbling in her head that was neither her nor me.
"Fuck me, that hurt. Where did that bitch go? I'll—"
Sirius's voice cut off with a gasp when Hermione scrambled to her feet and said, "Oh, no."
Remembering how unnerving it was to find myself suddenly a guest in someone else's mind, I decided to offer my expert advice.
"Hey there, Sirius," I said. "Welcome to Hermione's brain. Don't worry; there should be plenty of space for both of us. It's nice and roomy, if you don't mind stretching out among memorised bits of textbooks and—"
"For God's sake," another, far more irritated voice said. "Will you—"
"Snivellus?" Sirius said, his tone brimming with disgust and disbelief.
"Oh, this is just fabulous," Hermione, who had been sitting in stunned silence, said with an annoyed huff. "Is there anyone else who has taken up residence in my brain?" When no one replied, she started gathering up the supplies that had scattered over the Death Chamber's stone floor, muttering the whole way. "All right then, roll call. Fred?"
"Present!"
"Sirius?"
"I'm here, Hermione, but what's going on? Where's Bellatrix gone? Where's everyone gone, for that matter? You should run, look for help—"
"She won't be bothering us," Hermione said, exhaling a sad sigh. Closing her eyes, she allowed two scenes to flit through her mind in quick succession: the moment she learned of Sirius's death, followed by my mum's defeat of Bellatrix Lestrange.
I wished I'd been around to see Mum call Voldemort's most loyal servant a bitch. It must have been spectacular.
"Damn," Sirius said. "Well done, Molly."
"For once, Black," Snape said, spitting Sirius's surname as though it was a curse, "we agree."
"Professor Snape?" Hermione said.
"Yes, Miss Granger," he replied. "Unfortunately, I am here as well. You needn't replay the scene of my death. I'm well aware of what must have happened after I was bitten by Nagini."
Rather than Snape's death, what popped into Hermione's mind was a vision from her fourth year. I could feel her dismay as she struggled to keep from thinking about her teeth growing past her collar and a disdainful, sneering Snape telling her that he saw no difference.
"You utter, utter prat," Sirius bellowed. "She was just a child, and you couldn't show an ounce of human decency—"
Stop it, Sirius, Hermione thought, clenching her jaw. It happened over a decade ago. I didn't even mean to think of it. Anyway, it's no worse than what you used to do to him.
"Miss Granger—"
With all due respect, I don't want to hear whatever you're about to say, either, Professor. Since I'm apparently sharing my mind with three other people, we're going to play by my rules. I'll not have you two running around my skull, bickering like a couple of old ladies; you'll do my head in.
I hoped she felt the proud feeling I sent her way for refusing to put up with their ancient grudge bullshit. Honestly, they were both dead. You'd think that maybe they could've let some of that shit go.
"About that," Sirius said, cutting off whatever retort Snape was about to make. "How, exactly, did we come to be inside your head?"
Snape murmured in disapproval as Hermione played out a visual explanation of her experiments with the Veil, largely glossing over everything that happened in between me becoming a guest in her head and Sirius and Snape arriving on the scene.
"Miss Granger," Snape said. "For magic this volatile, having a partner to stabilise the area around you would be beneficial. If you are unable to rein in your emotions, I imagine you will only end up with even more…guests."
I could feel Hermione's frustration building up in her chest. Not five seconds before Snape spoke, she'd been thinking that she would need assistance to put us back where we belonged. If I knew that she'd worked it out for herself, then Snape knew it as well. As much as she admired him for the bravery he'd shown during the war, she still resented the fact that he still refused to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, there was something more to her cleverness than rote memorisation — that maybe she had some clue what she was doing, since she'd been an Unspeakable for years.
I think that in some naïve, optimistic way, she'd expected him to be easier to like, now that she knew the truth about him.
No matter who was responsible for the idea of asking for help, I was tentatively excited. If Hermione's boss would go for it, I reckoned we knew just the Unspeakable for the job.
-oOo-
"He's really in there?" Percy asked. Leaning across his desk, he looked intently at Hermione's eyes, as though he expected to see a shade of blue in her irises that matched his own instead of brown — as though he thought he'd find me staring back.
"Yeah," she replied. "And now, so are Sirius and Professor Snape."
He pursed his lips, obviously trying to fight a smile. "From what I've heard about their interactions when they were alive, that must not be very pleasant."
"That's putting it mildly," Sirius muttered.
"Percy," Hermione said, placing her hand on top of his and ignoring the commentary from the inhabitants of her head. "Fred doesn't blame you. He wants you to know that."
Shaking his head, Perce let out a gasp of laughter. "That doesn't sound like something Fred would say."
Hermione frowned at my response to this, but repeated it after only a few seconds of hesitation: "He also says you're a sanctimonious prat and if you don't stop this wallowing nonsense, he's going to have me tell George to kick your arse. There was no way he could've protected himself from that bloody wall, even if you hadn't decided to finally pull the stick out of your arse and crack a joke. He…he d-died laughing — with a smile on his face. It was the best thing you could have done for him, you idiot."
"Ah," Percy said, turning his face away in embarrassment as his eyes misted over with unshed tears — the big sap. "Now that sounds like my brother."
"I need your help, Percy," she said. "I have to put them back, and I can't do it on my own—"
"But you don't want to put Fred back, do you?" Percy studied her face as he spoke, as if he was looking for the answer to a question he hadn't asked. With a long sigh, he brought a hand up to tug on one of her curls, wrapping the lock of hair around his finger and furrowing his brow in concentration.
"Of course I don't," she said. "Hell, I don't want to put Sirius or Professor Snape back, either. They were good men who didn't deserve what happened to them."
To my surprise, neither Sirius nor Snape had anything to say in response to this.
"Being able to talk to Fred again has been…I don't know," Hermione continued. "Wonderful and horrible all at once. Wonderful because I've missed him, and horrible because I know I can't keep him here. He doesn't belong, no matter how much I may wish otherwise."
Defeat dawned on Percy's face, sad and overwhelming. He tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.
"You still love him," he said, sounding like he was just realising this himself. It was not a question.
Hermione's heart thudded in her chest as a blush spread across her cheeks. If I'd been in possession of my own body, I would have grinned.
"Right," Percy said, dropping a kiss to her forehead before standing up. "I'm going to need some time to prepare, then. I have research to do. Shall we say tomorrow morning?"
"He's planning something," Snape said.
The rest of us ignored him. I reckoned being a spy for a good portion of his adult life was bound to make him a bit overly-suspicious. Hermione and Sirius were more inclined to think Snape might be right, but the former didn't say anything out of loyalty to her friend, and the latter flat out refused to admit to agreeing with Snape.
"That's fine," Hermione replied. "I don't think I'd be ready to try again today, anyway. I'm still feeling all jittery from my last attempt."
Together, they exited his office and walked through the winding, disorienting corridors and multiple doors that led back to the Entrance Chamber of the Department of Mysteries. With a shaky smile at Hermione, Percy tapped his wand to the crown of his head and vanished through the door of the Ever-Locked Room.