AN: Yanno, if I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing my own crap ass novel, so obv I don't.
-:-
Chapter Three: Darkness
The residents of Little Whinging were finally settling down, nothing had happened since that appalling Dursley family had been hauled off by the police, their home just sat there, untouched, and life was going back to normal after all that excitement. But Little Whinging, like four other towns across England, was about to be woken up in a very grim manner.
The pitch darkness of the early morning was lit up with a flash of light accompanied by whiplash cracks echo down the street as half a dozen figures in black robes seem to unfold them from the air and stand tall, short rods of wood in their hands. As one they hold aloft their instruments and a deep, sonorous droning can be heard rising from the group. Doors open all down the street and men step out to get a better look at the weirdoes disturbing their Saturday night.
Abruptly the pitch of the droning changes, rapidly climbing into a high pitched keening wail, like the sound of an air raid siren. The pitch keeps climbing, unceasingly and mercilessly as mundanes all down the street fall to the ground clutching at their ears and yelling for it to stop. All of a sudden the horrific sound stops and the men and women relax slightly, dabbing at their ears for a moment to see if they can find any blood when a sound like tearing tinfoil fills the air at great volume and with a flash of darkness that seems to rip all the light from the street for a moment, dozens of much thinner figures, skeletons in fact, materialize on the pavement.
Screams immediately rend the air as the skeletons leap like insects, covering tens of meters with each jump to land in front of, or on top of mundane men and woman climbing to their feet. With horrifying strength arms and limbs are ripped from bodies, heads are torn from shoulders and the chatter of skeletal teeth is heard like an eerie constant rattle, reminiscent of the sound of rain upon steel.
Doors are slammed as people run inside, only to be blasted open by the figures in black to allow the terrifyingly agile skeletons entrance into the homes. Some can't wait for the doors to be removed and simply dive headfirst through windows.
The retort of gunfire fills the air and one of the figures in black slumps forwards clutching at their stomach. The mundane responsible for the shot is quickly swarmed by multiple skeletons and the man is brought down screaming, those screams abruptly cease when one of the skeletons twists off the man's head with a sharp motion of its bony hands.
Soon there are no survivors. The sound of sirens fills the air as the bobbies approach, responding to the distressed and hysterical calls from the few residents of the street who managed to get to their phones before they were brutally cut down.
One house in particular, number four in fact, is ruined beyond recognition, the new residents of the home flayed, butchered, and left, boneless and skinless, to bleed out into the gutter. When the police finally arrive at the scene there are no residents left alive, the gutters run red with blood and water from broken taps spraying fluid onto the streets with arterial force. The scene is truly one of a charnel house and the culprits have vanished, the only sign of their passing the destruction they left in their wake, and a tiny speckle of blood where the injured death eater had bled onto the pavement.
Chudley, Godric's hollow and a miniscule and little known town on the Orkney islands suffer the same fate; fortunately the Weasley's home in the environs of Ottery St Catchpole is left undisturbed though it is only a few kilometres from the disturbance in Chudley, Godric's Hollow is left completely devoid of life, and in that tiny town on the island known as 'The Mainland', only one manor home is left undisturbed. A Fidelius ensconced building by the name of Longbottom manor.
-:-
In the sleepy suburbs of Oxford the residents of number seven Grove Street were totally oblivious to the terror sweeping parts of England and Ireland, and wouldn't be aware of it until much later once the morning news aired and the Daily Prophet winged its way into the Granger Residence. When they did learn of the events of the morning past however, the house was silent and grim as the four people sitting around the table at breakfast digested the morning's news. Eventually Harry spoke, breaking the contemplative quiet.
"So that's it then, he's unleashed his forces against England. Look at the locations, Little Whinging, Chudley, Godric's hollow, even Orkney. This is a statement; all those places have some link to me, save the Orkney Islands. The Weasley's live near Chudley, I used to live in Little Whinging, and he'll know I'm not there now. And of course Godric's hollow."
Hermione watched, saddened as Harry's head slumped forwards onto his forearms and she wrapped an arm around his waist, silently supporting him in their minds. Aloud she spoke in her soft tones her parents looked aghast
"We'd have been attacked too had it not been for the Fidelius we're under now. We just escaped really. They probably have no idea I even live in Oxford anymore."
Harry took a huge shaky breath and she could feel his shoulders tensing, his thoughts were roiling but there was a definite direction to them, she was having trouble picking it out though.
"I'd forgotten what today was, it's the anniversary of Ron's death. This isn't Voldemort's plan, it's that of Valmortis. The order thinks Voldemort is hung up trying to get hold of the prophecy, I believe them. He wouldn't have had thought to spare for this."
Hermione nodded, agreeing with his general thoughts, it bothered her how messy the killings had been though. It wasn't that she was squeamish, far from it. While blood wasn't exactly a welcome sight it wasn't alien to her. Rather what bothered her was the incongruity of the gory nature of the killings. Death Eaters were somewhat averse to bloodshed, preferring to kill cleanly with the Avada Kedavra. In everything she had read, all the history texts and anecdotal evidence supported the use of clean bloodless kills by the Death Eaters.
She had thought about it a great deal and finally come to the conclusion that because of their fanaticism and fascination with killing muggleborns they didn't want to chance getting dirty blood on them in their slaughters. The bloody nature of the killings all across the country suggested that they were not killed by Death Eaters, probably magical creatures then, or mercenaries from overseas. Either way Voldemort's ranks swelled with each passing day.
She felt her man shifting under her hand and turned her head to see him gazing down at the paper, one of his long fingers jabbed at a piece of the parchment.
"See what's happening? They're blaming this on Death Eater remnants; Dumbledore hasn't gotten through to the Wizengamot yet for an official release. Valmortis and Voldemort can keep striking at innocents with impunity and they'll be caught completely off guard."
Hermione nodded to herself as he kept speaking, she couldn't help but be proud of how he was analysing the situation. He had grown of late.
"They started with attacks against me, on the anniversary of Ron's death. Valmortis won't be random, he'll have a plan. His next targets might be main shopping centre, Diagon alley, Hogsmeade, Maybe even the Glen in Scotland where the locals do their shopping. He'll want to put fear into wizarding Britain, keep the sheep paralyzed while they orchestrate their next moves, unhindered and unseen."
It was straightforward and somewhat terrifying, not least of the fact being that they had no way of stopping it, Hermione spoke a handful of words that made her boyfriend nod in agreement firmly.
"We need to tell Dumbledore."
-:-
"…This bears thinking about, thank you for this Harry, Hermione. You've both proven your maturity again today with this. We've been so focused on Voldemort and keeping the prophecy away from him we forgot totally about Valmortis and his own ability to manoeuvre, it won't happen again.
Regards
Albus"
Harry set down the letter and Hermione sent him a burst of affection through their bond. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful for Dumbledore's words or a little worried that they really hadn't thought of this earlier. Was the order so blinkered by the need to protect this prophecy that they were blind to all else? What was stopping them from simply destroying the ruddy thing and putting it out of reach of Voldemort permanently?
'If Voldemort isn't searching for the prophecy, bending his will towards it, then it will free him up to begin his assault on magical Britain, whilst his mind is bent on the prophecy, we have time."
Hermione's cool, clean logic cut through the haze of Harry's meandering thoughts.
"While the Death Eaters skulk in the shadows trying to circumvent the order's guards they are not killing and ruining any hope we have of surviving the coming war. The ministry is ill equipped; the Order is locked down fighting this Wizarding cold war. We need people we can trust sweetheart, trained fighters who we can stand alongside when things get grim. We need an aware populace of people in hiding from Valmortis' tricks, and we need to stay calm."
Harry felt her hands cup his rough cheeks but he kept his gaze downcast, unwilling to let her see the guilt in his eyes at the hundreds of deaths that had occurred this morning.
"You need to stay calm my love, you need to remain with me, in the here and now, and not get bogged down with guilt. I need you."
Finally his eyes opened and he met her eyes with his own, they were glistening with unshed tears of worry and her mouth was set in a thin line, her bottom lip trembling with tension. He swept forwards, his arms encircling her and pulling her close to his chest, whereupon she snuggled close, her arms sliding around his neck, one hand pressing firmly against his back, the other tangling in his hair and holding him close to her. They stayed like that for quite a while, their parents were already at work and the two storey townhouse was quiet while the two teens reaffirmed themselves to one another.
When finally they broke apart Hermione took his hand and tugged him to standing.
"Let's get some takeaways tonight love. Fish and chips sound good. I want to sit with you in front of the telly tonight, away from all of the killing. I want to just be normal for one night before everything goes to hell. We'll call mum and dad later and tell them what's going on, but in the meanwhile, let's spend some time in town."
Harry could only nod numbly and take a gulp of air before she whisked them away to their room to prepare for the trip out into town.
-:-
The day passed in remarkably cheerful fashion. After their morning of grieving for the dead Hermione refused to let Harry fall into a fit of depression as she knew he was prone to do. Her man was not perfect, and this was one of his biggest flaws, fortunately she knew the remedy, lots and lots of kissing.
They spent the day wandering the streets of Oxford as they were wanted to do and as they had done most of the previous summer. They meandered all the way to the university whereupon they spent the afternoon sitting on the edge of one of the bridges and laughed at the children throwing bread to the ducks and fish.
It was particularly normal and very muggle. They abstained from using magic all day, just existing as ordinary teenagers enjoying each other's company. They even made the effort to talk aloud instead of retreating into their bond. It was somewhat idyllic for them, and they managed to have no further thought of the coming conflict that night, nothing beyond passing recognition at any rate.
The evening saw the family surrounding the television in the family room, the teens snuggled on the couch, and Emma curled up against Dan on the loveseat. Dan of course resolutely refused to 'snuggle' in front of the kids, but they all knew his arms was wrapped around Emma's waist and was lightly stroking her side.
When the teens retired to their room Hermione sat against the headboard and pulled out her latest novel to read and Harry say comfortably at his workstation. It was the beginning of established routine between them as Hermione read and her man tinkered away with slate and magic, breaking the day's abstinence from the arcane. She smiled to herself as he leaned down and placed a small object on the ground. She tried to resist looking at it but curiosity got the better of her and she playfully huffed before putting her book down and turning to gaze at the tiny contraption.
She was immediately enthralled as its tiny head rose and looked around before a dozen tiny legs began powering it rapidly across the floor. The small creation rapidly reached the bed where it leaped up, startling Hermione into a small shriek before she collapsed into giggles at the sight of the tiny cute little machine.
It had incredible personality as it nosed up to her and curled up against her leg, a light thrumming purr coming from within the small contraption. She gazed intently at it and noticed a line of inscribed text on its back, her heart melted at the words.
'A tiny part of my love for you, so that it can be with you always'
Many more kisses were shared between them that night.
-:-
The summer holiday was ending, and with its passing came a palpable sense of loss. There had been two more attacks in the days following the initial massacres, one at Diagon alley, and one just outside Hogsmeade. The Prophet was in hysterics the public was running scared, Harry and Hermione were both dreading the return to school. Not for their own safety, but because they were leaving their parents behind.
It was irrational, they had the protection of the Fidelius charm, and Harry would never give up their location. But the idea of leaving Dan and Emma behind whilst they went to school was something of a terror for both of them. The days leading up to the trip back to Hogwarts were filled with quiet communal silences between the four family members. Hermione in particular was distraught about leaving, for all her cool logic her mind was scrambled in the face of the impending threat.
Harry did his best to remain strong for her, to be the rock she needed during her upheaval; but even he was struggling, his iron will only just keeping him together before the terror Valmortis' still unidentified shock troops had instilled in the populace of Wizarding Britain. It had gotten so bad that even the Muggles were terrified and police presence in mundane England was at an all-time high.
Training didn't stop. The two teens worked themselves, if possible even harder, Mad Eye could no longer fight Hermione alone and win a hundred percent of the time, and their victories were sitting around half and half to either side. Harry took all comers, only Albus could beat him in single combat now, and it took Mad Eye, Remus, and Sirius to beat him even occasionally in a three on one situation.
Harry's power was still growing every day, already a terrifically powerful sorcerer from his natural ability and personal fitness, his magical core was still growing, gaining in size and strength with every fight, every dawn, every meal. His wandless magic was incredible. Even Dumbledore claimed not to have the kind of power and control Harry had at this age. Truly Harry was only a stone's throw from Dumbledore's current ability in terms of raw strength, but his skill and speed were still sorely lacking.
To watch him duel though, was to watch an ancient god of war brought down to earth for one final battle. He moved with such astonishing speed that Hermione could nary keep up with his thoughts, let alone his body as he moved in the duelling circle. The teens had been taught apparition and Harry used it to devastating effect, weaving spells around his opponent's shields, striking them on multiple fronts nearly simultaneously. He was learning how to make his sorcery and spellcasting originate from distant locations, 'throwing' his spells much the same as a skilled actor or thief could throw their voice.
The first time he achieved it Sirius was caught unawares by a blasting sorcel that smacked him in the back of the head, knocking him out immediately. Harry had been standing in front of him at the time. Remus fell next, a jab obliterating his shield and the follow up cutter slicing across his neck and splaying him out on the ground. He would have been killed then in a traditional fight, as it was he blacked out as his windpipe was crushed. Hermione healed him quickly as he fell, Harry would be devastated if Remus was harmed in any lasting way.
Mad eye was last, grimly holding on, his shield the only thing betwixt the blinding lightshow of Harry's knowledge of spells and sorcery, and his own battered body. Hermione grinned as Mad Eye staggered backwards and his shield cracked audibly, Harry had him now.
Her man swept himself around and appeared behind Moody. The Ex Auror turned sharply to intercept but the point blank jab was too much for Moody's splintered shield and it shattered with a echoing crack, the magical backlash slamming the older man against the wall and knocking him cold from the trauma.
At the end of it Harry was left in the middle of the duelling circle, panting hard with sweat running down his face, a single cut above his eye where a conjured knife had slipped past his shield. Hermione knew that he had been battling through the blood obscuring his vision behind his glasses and she stepped forwards quickly to heal him and cleanse his eye before kissing him softly.
"Wake them, and do it again."
He turned to her, nodded once, and went to revive his fallen tutors. There was little they could teach him now, they were merely willing targets for his practise.
-:-
"Harry James Potter if you don't clean up this workstation you're sleeping on the couch."
Harry cringed, it was incredible how he could put three grown men on their arses but when Hermione was angry he became that little boy under the stairs again. She could see the pain in his eyes and she huffed in annoyance. It was so hard to be angry at him sometimes. She strode up to him and lifted his chin with one finger, looking into his eyes and was uncomfortably transported back in his memories to a time of pain and endless darkness.
The pain shocked her; she had never felt this from him before, it was as if the metal buckle of Vernon's belt was falling on her own back, not his. Gasping in shock she stumbled forwards into his arms, her eyes prickled as she looked up at him and his apologetic expression comforted her.
"Sorry love, I didn't mean for you to feel that."
She shook her head numbly, trying to intimate that it wasn't his fault. It was her turn to feel small and ashamed for bringing those feelings down on him, but just as she had done for him, Harry tilted her chin up and gazed into her eyes, showing his remorse.
"This isn't your fault. I love you, and I'll go clean up the workstation, I have let it get out of hand."
She stepped into him and hugged him close to her body, never wanting to let him go.
"I love you too Harry. I'm so glad we got you away from those people."
"Me too gorgeous, me too"
-:-
One thing Hermione still hadn't been able to share with Harry, a secret that burned at her conscious to keep, but that she was unable to share; was his mother's diary. That thin, but incredibly expansive tome was the sum knowledge of the muggle born Lily Potter, and her words of advice and guidance for whoever would be Harry's love.
She had poured over the book for hours at a time, Harry only seeing a novel, or a textbook, and the object passing from his mind the moment his gaze shifted from it. It was a treasure trove of knowledge, information on wizarding law, customs, secrets of runes and Arithmancy uncovered by one of the most intelligent witches the world had ever known. Much of it was still beyond Hermione, she could only understand the most superficial of concepts that Lily talked about in her extended dissertations, but the knowledge that was open to her now, the things she could understand, the things she could use. They were priceless.
Already she had begun to act differently, she would be the head of Harry's household one day, subordinate only to him and even then only in law, in all else they would be equals. She had begun to keep a journal of her own, a ledger of expenses and expenditure. She planned to keep records of correspondence, and she was negotiating with the Goblins about releasing the details of Harry's vaults to her. Their bonding was clear to the Goblins, but they were still beating around the bush about something Hermione was unaware of.
Some of the things she learned made dealing with Harry's moods easier, apparently he was very much like his father; instinctually noble, powerful, gentle to those he cared for, but stubborn, carried a grudge for life and took on more than his share of responsibility for the actions of others and the fates of those he felt he should care for. Lily had written multiple entries towards the end of the first war where James had been nearly incapacitated with grief after losing members of the Order of which he was one of the de facto leaders after Dumbledore.
Lily had many tips and small bits of advice for calming down her son should he turn out like James, Potter men apparently shared many of the same characteristics. Hermione smiled at the thought of her sons one day bearing those same traits before she mentally slapped herself on the wrist, it was far too early to be clucky. Much to Hermione's relief Lily had also included many handfuls of charms relating to personal grooming and beatification that were designed to quicken the transition into a 'lady' should Hermione need to attend any formal events. Hermione wasn't particularly geared towards that kind of activity and it was more than a small weight of her shoulders to have her late future mother in law covering those bases for her. It was as if Lily knew Harry's future wife would be similar to herself, another trait of Potter men apparently; being attracted to witty intelligent and passionate women who weren't particularly fussy about their looks.
The biggest shock had been the massive Grimoire of rituals, Lily Potter it turned out was an avid researcher of ritual based magic, and Hermione guessed, although could not be sure, that one of these rituals was responsible for Harry's survival fourteen years ago. Hermione could see herself performing many of these rituals in the future, none of them seemed Dark per se, simply forgotten and lost to the mists of time; overrun by Ministry approved magic and patented spells. Simpler, more efficient times had barrelled past the rituals of old to take centre stage, but while they were not fast, or convenient. Perhaps one of them could be the answer to the struggle they faced.
The book was a treasure, something she would keep safe for the rest of her life if need be. When Harry came of age, she would share it with him; give him the thoughts of his biological mother to cherish. She had no doubt that he would return it to her care in due time, he was just that kind of man.
-:-
School letters arrived a week before the teens were due to ship out. They were later then usual and the family was almost unable to make the trip into London in time. The trip was not one made on a whim by the family as the car ride in each direction totalled five hours, they had to leave early in the morning to get to Diagon alley in time to do any shopping at all and the trip took up an entire day. Usually this would be done on a weekend as Dan and Emma often had full schedules during the week and weren't free to travel.
Fortunately Tonks was due to arrive that day and it made it far easier for the kids to simply go to Grimmauld then Floo to Gringotts to do their day's shopping before heading home. One surprise for both teens was the shiny gold and red badge that slid from each of their envelopes. The accompanying letter describing their selection as the fifth year Gryffindor prefects took both of them by surprise at the time, but it was agreed later that with Dean and Ron gone, and Seamus and Neville being somewhat under the radar, Harry was the only logical choice for the male prefect. Hermione of course was a shoe in.
They decided to splurge a little and grab something for themselves as a sort of reward. Harry purchased a magical metalworking instructional text and some magical jeweller's tools. Hermione much to Harry's shock brought herself a broom. A fairly sedate Cleansweep, but it was a broom nonetheless. Dan later joked that Hermione now finally had the full traditional package, cat familiar, broom, and even a pointy hat.
-:-
Remus's presence at Grimmauld place was spotty at best, he sometimes arrived in the evening, battered and covered in cuts, or clad in rags. He would never speak to the teens during these times, only after he had been healed, debriefed and relaxed would he come to the training room to assist in Harry and Hermione's tutoring. One night, two days before they were due to head back to Hogwarts, the teens learned why he had been so secretive.
Remus had been away for a full two days, and as the teens were practising their melded spell chains they heard a great commotion in the entrance hall. The horrific shrieking of Sirius' mother echoed through the house before they were abruptly shut off. Harry was out the door in an instant, he could hear Hermione's feet on the stairs behind him as he thundered down them wand drawn and ready for anything.
What met his gaze shocked him to the bone and made him stumble on the steps, his hand blindly grasping at the handrail as he nearly loses his footing. Remus was slumped between Sirius and Kingsley blood pouring down his front from a wound in the hollow of his throat, the skin there mangled by multiple rows of puncture wounds that festered with horrific white foam. Sirius' agonized shout brought Dumbledore out from the kitchen.
"ALBUS! Greyback challenged Remus!"
The hallways was suddenly a hive of activity as Remus was ushered into the kitchen and laid out on the table, documents hastily moved out of the way as he convulsed in Sirius Kingsley's grip whilst they held him down. Remus's eyes were rolling madly and a weirdly elongated tongue was lolling out of his mouth in an uncontrolled pant. His muscles were bunching randomly and spasms were wracking his muscular frame. The same white froth was gathering at the sides of his lips as he shivered and his teeth chattered together. Harry had never seen someone beyond pain before, but this was about as close as it got.
He and Hermione were shoved none too gently out of the room as half a dozen Order members started casting spells rapid fire at the werewolf, Harry had a start as he realized it was a full moon tonight, why wasn't Remus still a wolf? Hermione answered his question without missing a beat.
"It's leaving him Harry, whatever is in that wound is purging the wolf from his system, and once it's gone, he'll die. His body can't survive without it anymore, they're going to have to cleanse him, and then re-infect him with the curse."
Harry looked sideways at her, where had she learned that? He disregarded the thought as soon as it came and simply wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close. It was a mark of how much they had grown in the last few weeks that neither of them turned from the sight of Remus thrashing on the kitchen table while the Order members worked to save his life.
-:-
It took the Order four hours to save Remus, spells cast, sorceries wrought upon him. And finally he was injected, with a muggle syringe of all things, with a brackish fluid that looked putrid. Before Hermione could ask what the liquid was Remus was levitated through a door and down a set of stairs into a room where he was sealed in. She heard a spine chilling howl just before the door slammed shut, a howl she had heard only once before two years ago.
Sirius came to them then, and steered them towards the kitchen where they sat. The table had been cleaned again just moments ago, all trace of Remus' blood gone from the surface, but Hermione didn't know if she would ever be able to eat there again. She felt Harry's hand, it could only be his hand with those broomstick callouses, close around hers gently and a half moment later his thumb began to brush across her skin lightly, she melted at his touch as always and relaxed against him, letting out the tension she didn't know she had harboured.
"He'll be fine."
The simple sentence was enough to purge the rest of the tension from her frame and she wilted against Harry somewhat, her arm wrapping around his waist and holding tight. She had grown quite close to Remus; he was still her favourite DADA professor after all. More than that though, he and Sirius were two of the last links to Harry's family, the closest she would get to fathers in law one day. Remus was special to both of them.
It was at that moment that Tonks opened the front door and wandered into the kitchen, sat down heavily and looked around at everyone's relieved faces.
"Wotcher, Merlin, you can't all be this happy to see me. An' what happened to ol' Mrs Black in the hallway."
Hermione couldn't help but burst out laughing.
-:-
Greyback's challenging of Remus for the alpha position in the pack Remus had infiltrated ended up being a blow to the Order, now Remus wouldn't be able to show his face in the pack again, else he'd be run down and killed, and if Greyback knew he was still alive, the vicious creature wouldn't hesitate to finish the job.
The Order now had no presence within the werewolf packs. The vampires were apparently on the move, rumours abounded of a new British vampire queen. More powerful than the diluted modern vampires who could no longer summon the strength to walk in the sun. The giants were on the move, Hagrid had sent word that negotiations had broken down and they were leaving the mountains. Rumour was that the Dementors had started to leave Azkaban as well. Voldemort was calling his forces to him, between whatever was causing the attacks that had plagued wizarding Britain, and the hordes of magical creatures flocking to his side; Voldemort was nearly ready to begin his war.
As Tolkien once said in his epic, the board was set, and the pieces were moving.
Hermione just hoped that Harry's piece wasn't taken.
-:-
Harry lay back against the stiffly padded seat in the compartment he and Hermione had found. The prefect meeting was over and they had performed their rounds. The train was in the last leg of its journey now and Hermione had taken the chance to nap against him, her head resting on his shoulder and her mouth slightly open, her tiny spider like robot was sitting in her lap. Up until a few minutes ago a multitude of the tiny things had been crawling around. He had been trying to perfect his designs of the miniscule creatures but he didn't have the heart to 'put them down' as it were, so their numbers were growing and he had to keep them locked away in a cage most of the time.
Hermione loved the things, he often found her late at night, commanding legions of the tiny things across tables or tiled floors. They were hugely varied in size, anything from the size of a softball to the smallest of his creations, a positively minute four legged creation half the size of a pea that he spent nearly six hours across four days working on with his new magical tools.
It had become something of a hobby, a self-examined test of his skill whenever he sat at that table to tinker. He would have to see if something similar could be arranged at Hogwarts. He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge his errant train of thought. This was getting him nowhere, this mental meandering. Renewed of purpose he focused inward, concentrating on his bond with Hermione. Moody had set them an exercise to do with one another while asleep. Supposedly it should increase their mental defences, not from one another, but rather from outside threats.
He gently sifted through her thoughts, her dreams, her memories, being careful not to wake her but memorising where everything was in her mind, how it was organized. It was a collosal task, one he would not complete until they were old and grey, but every little bit helped. Hermione's perusal of his own mind was slower as he slept less often, but she was also quicker than him able to process what she was seeing faster.
The purpose of this was twofold; on the one hand they would know immediately when someone was attempting to intrude on each other's minds when they knew the sum details of everything their partner was. On the other hand they would know each other perfectly, they barely quarrelled as it was but with these exercises they would become more one mind in two bodies, than two people merged together. Hermione especially was nervous about this. She was the most independent and independently strong person harry knew, and he knew that the idea of losing a part of herself in their blending was weighing on her heavily. He suspected they would fight about it at some point, but he wanted to delay that time as long as possible, to have as much time as he could to sift through her feelings on the matter so he could better understand her dissatisfaction.
Truly the thought of losing himself in her was something of a relief for Harry. She was the most wonderful, caring and passionate person he had ever met, to take a part of her being into himself to nurture for all time? For the boy who grew up under the stairs it was heaven, here was the family connection he had always craved, a true partner for his heart, and with her came her parents, Dan and Emma, who had already done so much to obliterate the pain of the past.
Her thoughts shifted, speeding up into wakefulness and Harry held her close, ensconcing her in the safety of his arms. She had once told him that she never wanted to wake up anywhere else than in his arms, and since she had said that to this day he had not disappointed her; it was something he felt great pride in.
Her sleepy kiss on the underside of his jaw brought him back to the present as it so often did.
"Who do you think the defence against the dark arts professor is going to be?"
Her sleepy question set off a riot of questions in his mind, who would fill the cursed faculty position? Mad Eye had confirmed that he wouldn't be coming back this year, they would be training with his instructions but until Christmas they wouldn't see him again.
"I have no idea sweetheart, then again it's not like I know all of the qualified instructors in Britain."
Hermione smiled at him and kissed his jaw again before snuggling back into his chest.
"I wish it was you."
Harry looked at her then, bewildered.
"Oh come off it Harry, you're a prodigy when it comes to that, you go toe to toe with Dumbledore to train for Merlin's sake. Admittedly he still mostly mops the floor with you but the fact that you're able to even hold your own is nearly beyond belief. If anyone was qualified to teach that course it would be you."
Harry looked at her questioningly.
"Yes, I'm a skilled duellist, and I have a pool of magical strength bigger than most. But DADA is more than just duelling love, you of all people know that, dark creatures, cursed items, venoficium, they're all things I don't have more than passing knowledge of. I know the syllabus, sure, but I don't think I could impart that knowledge to others."
He paused here, partly to collect his thoughts, partly for dramatic effect.
"Also, I'm pretty sure the seniors would get prissy about being taught by a fifth year."
Hermione laughed then, that wonderful bell-like noise that sent shivers of happiness through him. Grinning he moved close and kissed her softly, enjoying the taste of her upon his tongue and revelling in the warmth of her embrace. He didn't know what he would do if she didn't love him, fortunately, she did.
There was a rapping sound on the glass of the compartment door and the two teens broke apart slightly to usher in whoever was there. As it turned out it was Fred and George, having not heard from the twins for months Harry and Hermione were both a little shocked to see them, the two came in and sat down quietly.
They sat in silence for a few moments, the two younger teens unsure how to deal with this sombre pair of usually boisterous young men. Eventually they broke the silence
"We've missed you guys at the Burrow."
Harry was at a loss. Of all the things to hear and try and get their heads around this was the one thing they hadn't expected. Only one of the twins was speaking, a departure from their usual alternating speak, possibly a tribute to the seriousness of the other's voice
"I know we really only saw you briefly last year, and the year before you weren't even at the Burrow and Hermione didn't even come over the year before that. But you guys are family you know? When Ginny… When she potioned you harry, it hurt all of us. When Ron died… It meant the world to us that you were at the funeral. Gred and I, we've not really known how to approach you two after the trial. Mum's been inconsolable; Percy's disappeared off the face of the earth. Dad got rid of all his Muggle stuff, said it was 'Trivial'. We haven't been the same since all of that, as a family, and mum and dad didn't want to intrude on your holiday, but they did want us to tell you that we're still here if you need somewhere to stay, or someone to talk to. Okay?"
He let if there, hanging and neither Harry nor Hermione knew how to answer him. Eventually to two subdued pranksters left the compartment in silence, a sombre nod their only farewell. The rest of the train journey was quiet. Harry was a little sad, Neville never showed he had hoped that the withdrawn pureblood that had formed an alliance with them would come back and deepen the relationship to friends. The absence of Draco Malfoy was a relief though.
The train rolled on through the growing Scottish dark, Harry pondered, Hermione slept.
-:-
The arrival at Hogwarts was, to Harry, a surreal affair, as he handed Hermione down from the train and looked around he gazed upon the throngs of happy teenagers, most blissfully unaware of all that had gone on over the summer. He was quite sure that those under third year probably didn't even read the prophet on a regular basis. Little good that would do them, they wouldn't have the same exposure to the violence that the muggleborn children would have with the news report that had been uncommonly blunt.
That said as Harry looked around he noted a distinct lack of muggleborns, Justin Finch-Fletchley was missing, so was Kevin Entwhistle from Ravenclaw. A stab of pain shot through harry as he noted that Katie bell and the ever enthusiastic Creevey brothers were also absent. He slumped against the station wall, as if a blow to the gut had laid him low and Hermione was at his side at an instant, brushing his fringe back from his forehead and looking concernedly into his eyes.
"Are you alright love?"
He looked back at her, understanding now, that if he hadn't been living there, if the Fidelius hadn't been raised, she might not be here with him right now.
"Who's missing from this crowd Hermione? Look around; Katie Bell? Colin? Dennis? Justin? Kevin? There are probably more but Gryffindor has been gutted, Hufflepuff is looking grim. First generation witches and wizards all of them." He leaned forwards, his arms wrapping around her and holding her close.
"No one even knows. All these pureblood and halfblood kids, none of them even have an idea that their classmates won't be coming back. I came so close to losing you this summer sweetheart. Never mind the fact that you're my friend, my love. You're first generation magical, you could have been killed whether you knew me or not."
He felt Hermione tense in his arms, her own arms going taught with the strain and her breath catching in her throat. Furthermore he could feel her magic building. It was like a pressure behind his eyes, like a headache without the pain. Despite the fact that they forced themselves to speak vocally in public for proprietary's sake, they were constantly linked now and that Hermione had raised a sorcerous barrier around them both was plain as day to him. He then noticed blithely that he had done the same thing. Shaking slightly he took a deep breath and did his best to calm down. He was hoping that, like his fear had fed her own and made them both go on the defensive; his own calm would relax her.
It worked eventually and the two teenagers broke apart with tight expressions, Hermione slipped her arm into Harry's proffered one and they went to the nearest horseless carriage, which wasn't so horseless anymore. He and Hermione both stopped stock still, startled out of their funk by the strange sight. It wasn't until they thought hard about it that they realized only Harry could actually see the creatures, Hermione was just viewing them second-hand through Harry's eyes so natural did they overlap.
Quietly they got inside the carriage, both understanding that they needed to get out of the public eye before letting down their guard to discuss everything that had gone on. It was a long trip up to the castle; moreover, it was a painful one, and during that trip, both he and Hermione pledged to teach their classmates how to protect themselves in case more attacks happened, the fact that already some of them had been killed was a cause for great sorrow.
-:-
Fog had rolled up on the banks of the black lake, Harry was sure Hagrid would get the first years safely through but he personally wouldn't have wanted to be in the thick of it. Turning back to the castle he felt a pang of mixed emotions well up within him. Once this was his home, but with a full year's worth of loving family under his belt he recognised that this was, at best, a mid-way station; somewhere for him to refuel before moving on. And he had moved on, Emma and Dan were very much his parents now, not by birth certainly, but they had earned the title nonetheless.
Hogwarts now was nothing more to him than a school, a school with a host of memories attached to it, experiences both good and bad, some extremely bad. He and Hermione had briefly discussed moving to a different school, Beauxbatons was particularly appealing after Madame Maxine was removed from Headship pending investigation on threatening the lives of the champions during an international event. Neither of them particularly wanted to remain in Britain in one of the lesser wizarding schools and Durmstrang was… well, Durmstrang. So the Beauxbatons academy of magic was the only other real choice, the Beauxbatons students were even aware of Harry and apparently Fleur's sister Gabrielle still harboured a serious crush on him.
But here they were, going back to Hogwarts for a variety of reasons, not least of which the fact that they could still eke out some information and skills from Dumbledore and whoever he picked to teach defence against the dark arts. They were here, in the castle that had so many mixed memories, and it was going to be their hardest year yet, as Hermione had so aptly put it: 'Screw Voldemort, we have OWL's to worry about.'
Movement in the doorway caught Harry's attention and he set eyes upon a very wan Professor McGonagall looking around. Making eye contact with her she seemed to relax visibly, especially when she saw Hermione. She beckoned them inside the castle with a wave and waited as they ascended the steps. They were both a little shocked when she swept Hermione into a hug.
"I was so worried about you child, and I'm so thankful you're safe, when everyone forgot where you lived and the other muggleborns started disappearing I feared the worst. It's so good to see you well."
Harry felt Hermione's emotions welling up and he slipped an arm around her waist in support as the two witches parted their hug.
"I'm rather glad she's safe too Professor, did you have something you wanted to see us about?"
"Rather, and yes, with the situation of your relationship as it is and the accommodations you shared last year with Miss Granger, don't think we weren't aware of it. Professor Dumbledore and I as both the deputy head and your head of house have agreed that you can share those quarters again this year. But they are for the two of you only, we don't want to see you throwing any parties in those quarters and we trust you two not to break our trust on this matter, your luggage has been moved there already. We understand that your bond makes your relationship necessarily more intimate but we ask that you respect the school rules about physical relations in spite of that."
Hermione blushed heartily at this and swatted Harry away with her mind when he tried to mentally inquire as to her blush, giving him the impression she would explain when they were alone.
"Additionally with the new DADA teacher I ask that you both hold your tempers in check, she is not to be trifled with regardless of whom she works for."
With that last cryptic parting remark she disappeared into the throng of students, presumably to ready herself for the first year's arrival. Hermione tugged on his arm lightly and he conceded to her and allowed his girlfriend and bond mate to tug him into the Great Hall. Most of the students were already in the hall but it still felt empty. Only now it seemed were some of their housemates recognising the fact that over a dozen of their peers were missing from the assembly, empty seats noticed acutely by the entire house.
He and Hermione sat in silence, exchanging conversation in their minds while the school moved about them. Neville was sitting at the far end of the table, looking for the entire world like a lost puppy. Fred and George were holding court at the other end, seniors now in their final year they had revived some of their old exuberance to put up a good face. As the last Weasleys to pass through Hogwarts of this generation they must have felt a certain obligation.
Harry turned his attention to the staff table and scanned along it with his gaze, noting the usual teachers whilst he sought out the one person he wouldn't know. Eventually he spotted them at the far end of the table, strangely reminiscent of something he had seen on the television once the woman; he assumed it was a woman from McGonagall's cryptic remark earlier, was wearing a wide flat brimmed black hat that obscured her fact and a long royal blue double breasted overcoat. Her hands were a pale white but unadorned with rings or jewellery of any kind save for a thin band of silver around her right middle finger.
There was an air of foreboding about the woman, and Harry knew instinctively that McGonagall was right; this was a woman you didn't want to cross. He was startled when the woman shifted slightly and he caught a glimpse a red 'M' on the left breast pocket of her coat, a ministry worker, at Hogwarts? Things were getting stranger and stranger.
Hermione quietly agreed with him; things were indeed getting stranger. They resolved not to cross the quietly intimidating woman. As soon as they made this resolution, as if having been waiting for them to do so, Professor McGonagall opened the doors to the great hall and swept in, a couple of dozen first years at her heels following like the small children they were.
Harry could remember vividly his own terror in their shoes but noted with a thrill of worry that there were very few children there who looked bewildered, most of them already knew all about Hogwarts, either they were all clones of Hermione or they were purebloods and half-bloods. Was Valmortis striking already at the muggleborns who hadn't even reached schooling age yet? Was the world being quietly purged of muggleborns under their very noses?
He shuddered with the very idea of it and when he looked up again at Hermione's urging he locked gazes with the new Defence teacher, her eyes were a cold iron grey and her skin was unnaturally smooth and pale. Not supernaturally so, just as if she spent far too much time indoors and an excessive amount of effort on beauty charms. The effect was quite striking and if Harry was a lesser man he might have felt himself being rather attracted to the beatific woman, as it was he took the chance to nod carefully in her direction. He was a bit surprised when she nodded back and turned back to the sorting which was, coincidentally, just finishing.
The feast was a curious affair, the food was no different from usual, but the staff members were subdued, almost defensive, and the students were talking in hushed whispers making a muted hum across the hall that was much different from the usual roar of voices. Harry and Hermione were silent, eating quietly and talking between themselves in their link. They tried to keep the conversation light, but it was difficult when the imposing new teacher was scanning the hall with a startlingly sharp gaze and so many Muggle born witches and wizards were missing from the roster.
At long last once the last tart had been magically cleared from the tables and the last goblet had been drained Dumbledore stood from his seat and with a wave, conjured his usual podium from which he began to speak.
"Welcome new students, and to those who are returning; Welcome back! I have as is usual the start of term notices to announce…"
Harry was amused that Filch's list had apparently grown too large for the man's office door and was apparently now a book that could be accessed upon request. The forbidden forest remained forbidden and other, regular, start of term notices were dispensed then came the time of staff appointments, the time that the whole school had been tacitly waiting for.
"Joining us this year on appointment from the ministry of Magic is our new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher; Professor Victoria Umbridge, please welcome her warmly."
The requisite applause was remarkably polite, bordering on chilly, but apparently it sufficed. The biggest shock however was yet to come.
"I ask her to come forwards now as she requested to speak on the recent disappearances and attacks."
The ministry had so far avoided giving an official statement of any real substance; this would apparently be their public response to the disturbances that had been sweeping wizarding Britain. Harry kept his eyes locked on the new professor as she stood from her seat and walked around the edge of the table with a steady gait that oozed confidence.
She was not particularly tall, perhaps an inch shorter than Harry, but she had a presence that was far taller than her feet and inches. The sharp sound of her knee-high Hessian boots echoed around the deathly silent hall like the tolling of the most ominous bell Harry had ever heard. Beneath her overcoat she wore black linen trousers that were tucked into her boots and to Harry's great surprise a metal breastplate painted black over what looked like a white undershirt. Her hair was a striking dark brown that hung straight down her back, a single lock of white hair beginning at her left temple was a curious addition; Harry had no idea if she dyed it or it was natural.
The whole ensemble was intimidating and Harry noted with amusement that if she were a couple of decades older she might have been Mad Eye's sister. The woman stopped walking abruptly and the eyes of everyone in the Great were locked squarely on her, when she opened her voice to speak though, it was with an incongruously light and airy voice that clashed horribly with her otherwise formidable appearance.
"Good evening. On behalf of the Ministry of Magic in particular the Auror department, I have been authorized to speak to the recent events surrounding the public attacks of multiple wizarding locations across Britain and the disappearances of seventy two muggleborns."
Next to him Harry heard Hermione choke at that statement and he spared her an agonized glance, it was worse than they had thought.
"The culprits of these attacks, and they are believed to be linked, have been so far unsuccessful but the Head Auror Rufus Scrimgour believes he has enough leads to bring the investigation to a swift conclusion and provide closure for those families affected by the brutal attacks. I am here on behalf of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of the Ministry of Magic for Great Britain to ensure that this school and its students remain safe until the crisis is past."
She stopped talking as abruptly as she started, turned and nodded once to Dumbledore before resuming her measured gait to walk back to her seat. Upon reaching it she sat down gracefully and let her head drop slightly, the brim of her hat obscuring her face. Harry noted that Hermione was watching Dumbledore and his face had betrayed an emotion Harry couldn't fathom at the end of Professor Umbridge's speech. Meanwhile the woman had sat back in her chair and crossed her ankles under the table in front of her, the picture of repose but beneath the brim of her hat her iron grey eyes were once again scanning the hall.
-:-
Dumbledore wrapped up the notices and sent everyone off to their beds. Harry and Hermione snapped to attention at this remembering their prefect duties. At least, Hermione snapped to attention, Harry rose from the table with all the grace of a coiled predator. Hermione couldn't help but admire the way he had filled out over the last year, gone was the scrawny boy from under the stairs, and in his place was a toned and wiry young man with strength, power and grace hiding behind his fashion disaster glasses and dark hair.
He had grown up, they both had. He had been through more pain than she could wrap her head around, even with constant access to his mind and memories. Most of those memories were locked behind mental barriers Harry had erected himself, iron walls of indomitable will that he refused to let fall even under her most crafty attempts to see his memories. No matter what she tried he refused to let her relive the horrors he had experienced. It wasn't like he was keeping secrets, he had told her everything or let her view the memories once. But he wouldn't allow it again, it was sweet in a way, and utterly annoying in another.
At the end of the day though it was a testament to his incredible strength of mind, it was no wonder that Alastor couldn't control him with the Imperius. The last lesson that Alastor had taught them before they left for Hogwarts had been ward detection, it was a fascinating subject but much to Hermione's annoyance she didn't have the necessary magical affinity for the mage sight variant required to see the ward threads. She was forced to watch through Harry's eyes as Alastor taught him how to manipulate and detect the incredibly thin ward strands and their weave.
It was enthralling to see both the concentration on Harry's face and, through his own eyes, the care with which he manipulated the strands of the concealment ward around Hermione's chair where she sat being the guinea pig for his lessons. Daily she was blown away by his control, his determination and drive. He had learnt to apparate in a single day of hard practice, he had mastered the basic form of the mage sight charm almost instantly, and shortly after mastered its use. Whilst doing all of this he was able to keep a tight rein on his thoughts and maintain awareness of her location and what she was doing at any given time.
Whenever that mind boggling will and determination was focused on her she felt like she could do anything, the world was her oyster and the sky was the limit with his support and power lifting her up and opening the world to her scrutiny. It was a heady feeling to be his now that he was truly settling into himself as a person, she was just happy that she was the one who he had bent heart towards loving for the rest of his life.
As she shepherded the first years towards Gryffindor tower and Harry made sure as many Gryffindor students as possible knew the password she had to smile grimly. He would prevail, against every odd that was thrown at them, he would prevail. And she would be damned if she wasn't right there alongside him, she wasn't exactly a pushover herself.
-:-
AN2: Welp, this is a chapter I've been looking forward to, regardless of how long it took to write. Things are really picking up now and there are a few things I want to address so that no questions are asked, or if they are, they'll be smart questions, not dumb idiot ones:
Firstly I loathe the Delores Umbridge of Canon; she's a useless character with no redeeming features thrown into the story to be an easily hateable sideshow with no other purpose. I feel quite comfortable in rebranding the 'Inquisitor of Hogwarts' in an image of my own choosing and fiddling with her character till it suits my own ends. You'll find (I hope) that my version of Professor Umbridge is far more three dimensional, also I just like Victoria as a name, sue me.
Secondly: The plot of the first five books is actually not that bad, things fall of the rails horrifically in books six and seven but we don't talk about those, so many of the events you see will be familiar, but not the same, and I promise to end the story in a totally different way and use fully original plot content for the last two instalments of my series.
Thirdly: Reasons for why this chapter is so appallingly late. #1 is the cold I've been stricken with, every creative thought I have goes out the window when I'm sick and it's the biggest contributor to the lateness of this chapter. The other one is the absurdly fun DLC for Dark souls 2 which came out a couple of days ago and has since occupied a great deal of my time. Thirdly is the difficulty that I found in writing this chapter, somehow I struggled to work towards my usual ten K words that I strive for and I had to embellish a couple of plot points I wasn't planning on to make up content, see if you can spot the stuff that wasn't planned.
AN3: Review Responses:
Lupinesence: Thank you!
Starboy: Thank you too!
PairingMatters: Lots, lots more.
Anotherboarduser: Indeed they are, and yeah this is a big deal for them, Harry is on tenterhooks between wanting to lose himself totally in her and keep a bit of his own persona, while Hermione is quite adamant that she wants to remain herself, but the lure of blending with Harry is too strong to resist all the time, especially when they're intimate ^.^
Shade66: *Facepalm* Sighhhhhhh fixed
Jamcreynolds: Sorry about the late update, but thanks for the review!
RogueBHS: *blinks* I wanted to reply to some of your points but you're essentially just praising me… so thanks! Hope this meets expectations.
Kisa Tracer: Ugh, spelling mistakes are the least of my troubles, but thanks for pointing them out anyway. Hope you like this new chapter!
Lairenna: Let me reassure you, they won't be having full blown (hue hue hue) intercourse until they're both sixteen (Which is the age of consent in Britain, even if it's not wizarding Britain.) So rest easy.
I've had a couple of people now comment that it's nice(?) to see a woman - man rape instead of the other way around, I have to admit I never really thought about that when I wrote the passage, it was more about Harry's betrayal at the hands of yet another supposed friend than anything else, but I guess it's sort of a convenient side benefit(?). It's so weird to be talking about rape in positive terms *shudder* moving on, thanks for your review.
Shadow Dragon: PTSD is something I considered for Harry, but you have to consider that he's been through, arguably, much worse. He's even died (officially he died in the chamber of secrets of a moment before Fawk's tears restarted his heart). At this stage I think that he's far too strong a person to suffer to something like that, and Hermione is far too concerned to let him get depressed, but he is definitely suffering the effects of some trauma due to the rape. Thanks for your thoughts anyway! And thanks for your review.
Alright folks that's it for another week, tune in next time for Chapter Four: Inquisition, whereupon Victoria Umbridge shows her true colours and Harry learns a few new tricks. Thanks again for Reading and other shenanigans, see you next time!
LGreymark