A/N: Hi guys, I want to apologize for the long delay. Hopefully you've been keeping up with me on my profile page or Tumblr so you knew I hadn't abandoned this story. For those who didn't know, I took a break from this to focus on another story. It's hard for me to focus on two different fandoms at once without getting OOC and mixing up worlds. ATLA and HP are both huge and detailed, not to mention one is written in 3rd past and the other 1st present, so I apologize if I slip in this. :P But I completed that story, so I can work on these updates now. :) Hopefully I can manage every two weeks. Thank you so much for your patience. Enjoy!
Chapter 18 - The Light in the Dark
On Monday morning Hermione exited Runes and made her way toward Defense Against the Dark Arts. The corridors were crowded with students rushing off to class. A familiar voice floated through the crowd. When Hermione caught up to them, she managed to catch the last bit of Luna explaining the variations of Peruvian puss. Hermione caught Ginny's eye, and she all but burst into laughter at the sight of her expression.
She waved goodbye and made a turn toward Defense Against the Dark Arts. When she arrived, she was a bit surprised to see Harry already here.
"Hi Harry," she said brightly, taking a seat next to him.
He smiled. "Hey, how was Runes?"
"Oh, just fine," she replied. It was the same answer she always answered with when he asked about Runes. "Fine" never prompted more questions.
Soon the other students filed into the room and took their seats. Cloaked in black, Professor Snape was a shadow of darkness as he waited with his arms crossed in the front of the room. There was nothing friendly or welcoming in his face. As Blaise took his seat, Snape closed the door with a swish of his wand. Chatter died and the class fell silent at once, as they always did in his presence. Snape never needed to call for attention.
"We will be spending the entire class on one incantation," he said, quietly and slowly, in that drawing voice of his.
Hermione sat up a little higher in her seat at this announcement. What spell would require so much time? Her fingers itched to flip through her textbook, but she fought the urge down.
"Many of you are aware of the events that took place four years previously," Snape continued. Hermione felt the color drain from her face. Four years ago was in her second year; the year she was petrified. Yes, she remembered all too well. "A basilisk roamed this school and petrified all it came into contact with. There were no deaths, fortunately." It was hard to tell if he was sincere. His tone never changed. "To refresh your memory: to meet a basilisk's stare results in death. To simply see it in reflection results in petrification."
No one, not one professor had brought up the basilisk since second year. It was a subject that was known but never discussed. Until today.
The class was stark still and silent, a heavy tension quickly filling the room. Out of everyone in the classroom, Hermione was the only victim of the attacks. She could practically feel the glances snuck her way. She kept her head high, pretending not to notice.
"This was, however, not the first or only basilisk to roam our world," said Snape. He paced the room, keeping his wand held loosely in his hand. "The basilisks date back to centuries ago, though they are certainly limited in numbers today."
Hermione wondered what basilisks could possibly have to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Yes, they were probably one of the most dangerous dark creatures and certainly interesting, but this sounded more like a Care for Magical Creatures class. She also felt wary that more were lurking around in this world. She had encountered one, and that was enough.
"Many years ago, a Russian wizard studying Dark Creatures found and captured a basilisk. Wanting to provide power to his country, he kept the basilisk by conducting studies to find a way to sustain its power. Naturally, killing with sight is impossible for our kind; however, he managed to create a spell."
Snape let the moment draw out, appearing to be enjoying the tension. The entire class was on edge, feeding for more. Even Ron looked interested.
"Does anyone, no doubt Miss Granger, know who this wizard was?" he finally asked, his eyes flicking lazily in her direction.
She furrowed her brows and racked her brains for answers but nothing came. She remembered how difficult it was to locate a book on basilisks in her second year. A trip to the restricted section with a forged note, a tall ladder, a handful of splinters, and many coughs from dusty books later she had found it. But never did she recall reading about a scientist researching basilisks…
"Ivan Kozlov."
Hermione whipped her head around in the direction of the voice.
"Correct, Mr. Malfoy," said Snape impressively. "And what did he do with the information he collected?"
"He created a curse to petrify victims, like a basilisks stare," said Malfoy slowly, articulating each word for effect.
The class began to mutter and stir in their seats. Hermione's hand froze around her quill. Malfoy had to be lying. No curse can do such a thing. She'd know, surely!
"Silence…" hushed Snape. "You are correct again, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin. Now—"
"But sir, why petrify someone when you can use a Full Body Bind Curse?" Seamus interrupted.
Snape turned slowly, somehow managing to radiate silent rage and stone coldness at the same time. It was very unwise to interrupt Snape. Everyone knew that. Seamus seemed to regret it himself as he slumped in his seat, his cheeks reddening.
"Who can answer this question?" Snape asked, keeping his eyes on Seamus, who was melting more and more by the second.
Hermione raised her hand, not one hundred percent she was right, but wanting to give it a shot.
Snape looked hopefully at Malfoy, then around the room. No one seemed to know. As if having no other resort, he finally rested his gaze on Hermione. "Very well," he said. "Miss Granger?"
She took a deep breath. "Well, a Full Body-Bind Curse is effective, but it's only temporary and the victim is conscious. Even though their body is paralyzed, they're able to breathe on their own accord, blink, and look around. If this spell is anything like a real petrify from a basilisk, the victim will be unconscious and completely unable to move or think." She shivered at the memory.
The class turned from Hermione to stare at Snape, as if waiting for his confirmation.
"Well?" he drawled impatiently. "Why are you not copying this all down?"
Hermione glanced down, fighting a smug smile. She quickly copied her own words onto the parchment.
"But Miss Granger has left out the most crucial aspect of this curse," said Snape. "As Miss Granger stated, a Full Body-Bind Curse is temporary and the effects will wear off. If you are the victim of the Basilisk's Curse, the original caster must remove it."
"What if they don't?" asked Seamus anxiously. "Or what if the caster dies?"
"Then the victim will remain petrified forever," said Snape with a tone of finality. "Unable to move, feel, speak, or think on your own. You're conscious mind will fade away, leaving you with only an empty shell of your unconscious. You will be hollow, trapped in an empty cell of nothing. You're soul will wonder alone, forever, into the dark abyss. A fate similar to the Dementor's Kiss."
Hermione had dropped her quill. She was so stunned she couldn't even write down what he had said. No one moved or made a sound. A fate similar to the Dementor's Kiss? And this could be performed by a curse? What if…what if You-Know-Who knew of such a thing?
"The curse is ancient, and was shunned from the wizarding world many years ago," said Snape, breaking the tension. "But spells come and go. They fade in and out of popularity and once again, this curse has resurfaced."
Hermione shuddered. Was her worse nightmare true? Who else would do such a thing?
"Shouldn't it be Unforgiveable?" asked Dean.
"When this curse was prohibited by our law, the creation of the spell as well as the principle was copied down in the Ministry Archives of Spell Creation," said Snape. "As the years pressed on, it seems all evidence on such a spell seemed to have disappeared. Accidental or intentional, we do not know. If the original board that prohibits a spell passes on, and the documents are destroyed, the spell is no longer illegal…without proof, you have nothing. It is neither illegal or legal." He paused, and then said, "I believe it is crucial to learn, as it may very well be one of your best offenses. The Headmaster believed otherwise, but in the end, he agreed to allow me to teach you the spell and its counter curse, along with a protective spell that if done correctly, will ward it off. We are at war, and need all the offense we can get. Now, everyone rise."
Hermione wondered briefly how the Ministry would feel about Hogwarts learning such things. Then again, they didn't always have the best judgment these days.
She hesitated a brief second, and then stood up with the rest of the class. She did not want to cast such a thing, but she never wanted to be petrified again. She needed some way to defend against it.
"I don't like the sound of this," Harry muttered quietly.
Hermione didn't either. But they were in a world of peril, and desperate times call for desperate measures. Plus, it wasn't exactly illegal either.
"The Basilisk's Curse is incredibly difficult to master," said Snape. "Before we begin, this spell will be taught to sixth and seventh years only. If any one of you is caught using this spell on another student for any reason, you will be expelled immediately. I have tracked the curse, so I will know if it is used," he threatened. "Do I make myself plain?"
The class nodded and a "yes, sir" echoed in the room.
"We will work only on the counter curse today. It is possible to remove it by someone other than the original caster, but very undoubtful. It requires much power, skill, and determination. I do not expect anyone to succeed; however, since the original caster will not be so inclined to remove the curse, we will aim to remove it ourselves. I will need one volunteer."
The class bristled. Some stared at the floor, others shifted from foot to foot. No one wanted to volunteer to be a guinea pig for Snape's Basilisk's Curse.
"No one? Pity." Snape surveyed the class slowly until his eyes landed on Hermione. "Ah, it only seems appropriate. Miss Granger, would you be so kind?"
Hermione stared at him in horror. He couldn't be serious.
"No!" came an angry shout. She turned, surprised, to find Ron red in the face and clenching his fists.
"Weasley, would you care to volunteer in her place?" asked Snape. His voice was level but his eyes lit with amusement.
Ron opened his mouth and closed it. His face fell and he looked at Hermione, a look of desperation and guilt plastered on his face. He wanted her to understand. She did, but she couldn't say she didn't feel a little hurt too.
"I'll do it," Harry piped up.
"No, Harry," she said to him, placing a hand on his wrist. "You don't have to."
"Its fine, Hermione," he reassured her. "I'll do it, professor," he said again, and stepped forward.
"Ah, of course," Snape said mockingly. "Always saving the day, aren't we Potter?"
Harry didn't rise to the bait. He held his chin high and ready, determination in every line of his body.
"Very well." Snape raised his wand and Harry braced himself. "You won't feel a thing, Potter."
"No!" shouted Hermione, unable to bear it. "You don't have to do everything alone, Harry." She turned to Snape, before she could change her mind. "Petrify me as well."
"What are you doing, Hermione?" Ron asked furiously, moving closer to her.
"I'm not leaving Harry to do this alone," she hissed at him. "Just because you're not brave enough to do it doesn't mean we all aren't."
Ron flinched and his face morphed wildly into desperation. He looked at Snape. "I'll do it too."
"Bloody Gryffindors," someone muttered, and the class started to stir.
"Silence," Snape ordered them. "Mr. Weasley, you will remain here. Miss Granger and Mr. Potter, step forward."
Hermione grabbed Harry's hand. He didn't argue with her or Snape, but he didn't look happy about it. Ron didn't argue either, though she thought he wanted to. It was too late for him to be brave now.
"The counter curse is an old and ancient incantation that took me years to find. You will copy it down," said Snape, and with a swish of his wand, words appeared on the blackboard. Hermione hoped whoever was going to try to bring her back wrote down the incantation thoroughly, or Snape at least left it on the board.
Ego tribuo thee spiritus of lux lucis, tepidus, quod vita.
"The incantation must be said thrice. It must be said with power, emotion, and determination. If you expect life to return to you, you must give life to the words itself. Potter, you first."
Snape turned his wand on Harry. Hermione gripped his hand tightly; she was shaking. It's only a class, she reassured herself. Snape wouldn't let anything serious happen to them. He might be uptight and rude, but he was brilliant with spells and curses. He'd bring them back as soon as their classmates failed. It was just like going to sleep. She'd feel nothing and wake up when it was over.
"Versteinern!" Snape shouted, whipping his wand around his head and straight forward. Bright blue-white light slammed into Harry's chest. He went completely stiff and he fell backward, his hand slipping from Hermione's.
Several people screamed, but mostly there was silence. Parvati and Lavender had their hands covering their mouths in terror. Dean and Ron looked sick and Hermione's eyes were in tears. Harry was flat on his back and he was paler than usual and colder…he looked dead. She bent down to touch him.
He was so cold.
She didn't hear the words. She didn't even remember standing back up. One second there was blinding light, and then there was darkness. The last thing she remembered was touching Harry's heart.
It had not been beating.
Empty. That was what Hermione Granger was. Empty and lifeless and alone.
Her soul began to wander in the dark, searching, searching, for something. There was no wind, no sound—no anything. She couldn't see, couldn't feel, couldn't hear. She just…existed in this dark abyss. She walked and if her feet could bleed, they would have. Time didn't seem to make sense anymore. Some other lost soul was walking her way, but she did not stop. It didn't matter who he was or what he was doing. She kept walking.
Hermione kept going because somewhere, something was waiting for her. Something was out there for her, something was looking for her. She didn't know what, or why, but she knew she had to keep walking.
The air was cold and crisp, numbing her insides even more than they already were. Thick fog covered the ground in a hazy blur as new images came into prospective. Hermione saw something tall stretching into the sky, but what was it? She didn't know; her memory was slowly fading as everything seemed to confuse her.
Suddenly she stopped as a hollow thought occurred to her for the first time. She had been walking so long.
What if there was nothing for her…nothing looking for her? Just her, in this big black hole of emptiness. She felt, for the first time, an emotion she recognized: overwhelming doubt. Her chest rippled with fear and her throat dried.
I am alone, I am alone, I am alone.
With each thought of loneliness, the darkness around her seemed to increase and it kept getting colder, so cold her chest felt like it had frozen.
This was it. She was going to live forever, trapped in this empty hole. She was numb now, completely numb without the faintest idea of self. Keep walking she heard from a distant life. It was a muffled thought, barely a whisper. She obeyed.
"You can't stop walking," she heard again, unsure where this source was coming from. The voice seemed to spark a bit of energy.
"Where to? There's nowhere to go," she thought in return, her steps slowing down.
"Do not give up!" the voice shouted.
Fighting the urge to surrender, Hermione kept walking, listening to the voice. The voice was a sweet melody, tender and soft. It was warm, a pleasant change from the world around her. She would keep walking, to feel the warmth and softness of the voice. The power of it seemed to pull her in a direction, guiding her. She didn't know what it was, or where it was leading to, but she trusted it.
With each passing step, the voice began to fade.
"Don't leave me," Hermione whispered, her voice so faint it could have been inaudible. She didn't want the voice to go. She didn't want to feel the inevitable coldness—she didn't want to be alone here, wherever here was.
Panicked, she turned then, and saw the thing she had been looking for. She'd know even if she didn't. She had finally found it, the light in the dark. A warmth filled her heart and she breathed, feeling the heat spread through her soul. There was the voice again, only it was not in a language she knew. Or maybe she did.
Hermione just knew she needed to be closer, to wrap herself in that warmth. She reached out with both hands, grasping the warm light as it pulled her out of the darkness.
Her eyes snapped open and her body sprung forward, latching her arms around the warm light. Some distant part of Hermione's mind registered the warmth was too solid to be light, but she did not care. She was warm again, and she was home.
A/N: Thank you for reading! I sort of combined part of the next chapter into this one. I think it works better. :) Hope to hear from you guys!
Review Responses:
lmysers3: "I think the pacing of the story is great-you have managed to perfect the balance between developing romance and keeping the characters acting like themselves." - Thank you! Going back and editing my original, I realized how much the pacing needed work. I'm hoping this is better this time around. :)
DestinyCrusader: "Although I haven't been keeping up with Rise of One and I really need to" - Hehe, The Rise of One is now COMPLETE! Finally. :P
twoyellowpaths: "And you're still planning on posting Forces of Destiny eventually, right?" - Yes, I believe so. :) Originally I considered maybe combining the two, but I think I might have to finish FoD because I really liked the idea. :P
meli101: " I love that you keep it in one point of view, as opposed to switching it around" - I prefer one POV myself, but there are a few times in this story that require a few more POV's. I will say though that, at least I think, it makes sense for why the view changes. Trust me when I say I would have kept it in one the whole time if I could have.
Tuitara: "and have you written any Zutara fics because i would definitely read them!" - Sure have! The Black Games, which is a spin on The Hunger Games, is my most popular. There's also a sequel which is complete, The Rise of One. :)