Author's Note: I must admit that I rock at keeping promises. I made a longer chapter, and I've updated quicker. I pray to God that this chapter doesn't suck because I haven't re-read it, but I always tend to update my stories right before I go to sleep, and I'm tired before I go to sleep. Even if I tried to re-read it now, I doubt that my brain would be quick enough to catch errors. Oh and thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. I love you guys :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Stupid disclaimers for always reminding me.
Tears of a Mourning Bookworm
Chapter Eleven: Tale of a Brave Mother
"Miss Granger," Markovitch hissed. "I wanted to talk to you about something..."
Her black-as-night heels slammed against the marble floor of the corridor, each noise louder than the previous step.
Harry heard Hermione gasp, then felt her hand squeeze his. She was clearly nervous, and Harry didn't blame her. He leaned in towards her ear and whispered, "Everything's okay. I'll make sure she doesn't get near you."
Hermione's shoulders rested, but she seemed not completely assured.
"Y-Yes?" she choked.
"I believe our last session was cut short." Markovitch was now a few feet away from them, standing with her arms crossed over her chest. "Believe me, I will have you expelled if you ever walked out of my office without permission ever again. Overreacting, that's what it is. I was trying to explain the reality of the situation -- "
"Reality?!" Harry yelled, standing in front of Hermione, her hand still in his. There was some kind of flame inside him that raged with anger...how could Markovitch possibly talk to Hermione like this? "I think Hermione has faced more reality than you could ever imagine -- "
"Mr. Potter, I recommend you move aside before I make a threat to expel you as well," Markovitch said roughly, not responding to any of Harry's actual words.
"No."
"Excuse me?"
"No. I won't move aside."
"Harry, don't...it's not worth it," Hermione whispered shakily.
He turned his head around to face her. "I told you that she wouldn't get near you. And she won't."
"I insist on our second session beginning right now, Miss Granger," Markovitch said, now completely ignoring Harry.
Coward, he thought, clenching the fist that wasn't held in Hermione's hand.
"I don't want to have another session," Hermione said before Harry could speak. Her voice was so shaky that Harry was tempted to turn around and hold her in his arms to comfort her...But he had to stay strong to protect her from Markovitch.
The Comforter laughed coldly. "Nobody cares if you don't want to have another session, darling."
"I do."
"Mr. Potter, this is none of your business," she snapped.
"Hermione means a lot to me and I won't let you just -- "
"Is there a problem here?" a familiar voice echoed through the corridor, rather loudly compared to the distance it was away from Harry.
Dumbledore. He seemed to be radiating hope as he walked down the same direction Markovitch had, approaching the scene within seconds.
"Hello, Professor," Harry and Hermione said in unison.
Dumbledore nodded, smiling, in their direction before turning to Markovitch.
"Miss Granger refuses to attend another session," the Comforter said harshly, hissing.
"Is another session scheduled for today?"
"Well, no, but -- "
"Eliza, we had a deal," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as his eyebrows raised knowledgably. "While the Ministry of Magic wants power in this time of danger within our world, I'd imagine that you would at least want to stick with a deal. Imagine the Minister's reaction when the news gets out that you broke a deal with the Headmaster of Hogwarts." He stood on his toes, then on his heels, rocking back and forth.
"Albus, I believe that's blackmail."
"No, no, of course not," he replied, winking at Harry. "Just a wondering thought. You know how ancient minds get after a while." He pointed to his temple.
"Yes, but -- "
"Our deal was every other week day. It's Tuesday, and lessons are Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."
"I prefer every week day."
"Once a week, then, Eliza, if you must behave like this."
"But -- "
"I believe Minerva scheduled a meeting with me. I best be off now."
Markovitch sighed.
"Once a week," Dumbledore said calmly, nodding to Markovitch. He turned on his heels to Harry and Hermione. "Best of luck," he said with a wink. Before they knew it, he had strolled out of the corridor less gracefully than before.
Markovitch hissed and left in the opposite direction.
How could Dumbledore let this happen? Even though he had seemingly shortened the amount of sessions, couldn't he just as easily gotten rid of them completely? Did he have any idea how awful of a person Eliza Markovitch was? But before Harry could let his anger build up, Hermione was standing in front of him.
"I'll be okay," she whispered, looking down. She held both of his hands now.
"Hermione..."
"No, it's fine. I'll be fine."
"You won't -- "
"I'll...be...fine..." Hermione stuttered. Her chin trembled. "I can't let her get to me."
"Didn't we cover this already?" Harry said, stepping closer to her. "You don't have to be strong all the time."
"But she'll get the satisfaction -- "
Harry silenced her by pressing his lips gently against hers. Hermione sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck as he softly held the small of her back. After a few minutes, they broke away.
Hermione smiled and shook her head, tears finally falling from her beautiful brown eyes. He wiped her tears away and softly kissed her cheek. Then Hermione stepped into his open arms. She was always welcome into his embrace.
"We're going to be late for dinner, you know," Hermione said.
"I think this is a bit more important than dinner."
"Just a bit?" Hermione laughed quietly.
"Okay, a lot more important."
She sighed again and settled herself my comfortably in his arms as he ran his fingers through her hair.
--
"You two look a bit more cheerful than when I last saw you," Ron commented the moment Harry helped Hermione into her seat in the Great Hall for dinner.
"Is there something wrong with that?" Hermione snapped.
"Of course n-- Gosh, Hermione..." Ron stuttered, taken aback. "You're acting more like yourself. What's up?"
She glared at him, then shrugged, and Harry could tell that she was desperately trying to hide a smile. He reached under the table and held her hand. Her attempt to hide the smile failed, and her teeth were revealed by the genuine curve of her lips. Even a small amount of laughter escaped.
Ron raised his eyebrows but didn't say much more after that; he seemed to prefer casting glances from Harry, to Hermione, then back at Harry.
Harry tried to ignore the glances, but after a while, they were almost impossible to ignore.
"Well, I'm full," Harry said after Ron's blue eyes were boring into his skin. "You?" he asked, looked at Hermione.
She smiled. "Yes."
He slowly helped her out of her seat and back into her wheelchair, now receiving even more glares from classmates, and they both made their way out of the Great Hall.
A few moments later, he heard Ron's breathless voice a few yards away. "Wait up! How fast does that wheelchair go, anyways?"
Hermione sighed and slammed her hand against the armrest of her chair. "Ouch..."
"You okay?" Harry asked; an automatic response. He immediately was kneeling down in front of her.
"You worry too much," Hermione muttered, smiling. "Just hit my hand a little too hard...Wouldn't have normally hurt, but -- " she paused to lift her palm up. There was a small scar across her palm. Harry had never noticed it before. "My mum's kitchen knives were too sharp."
"Did you get this from before -- "
"Nope," she began to explain. "Death Eaters decided to use muggle tools."
Something got caught in Harry's throat as Hermione whispered, "Mum".
"Hermione! I -- Oh," Ron mumbled as he approached the two. "Are you okay?"
"Of course she's not okay," Harry said ratherly harshly as he took Hermione's hand.
Tears began gently falling from Hermione's eyes. She shook her head, mumbling "mum" over and over again...
Harry wanted them to be alone so that he could get close to her face to whisper words of comfort without Ron making assumptions; no matter how correct those assumptions might've been. Instead, he stayed at this nearly painful distance while Ron kneeled down to Harry's right and tried to cheer Hermione up.
Although it was very clear that Hermione was only fully paying attention to Harry.
"Do you want to go somewhere else? Where there aren't any other nosy students?" Harry asked, turning to glare at a group of curious fourth years at the other side of the corridor. "We'll make sure nobody bothers you."
At the mention of "we", Ron's face lit up. Harry sighed. It was obvious that Ron would be included, but for some reason, this bothered Harry a bit. He looked back at Hermione, who was softly giggling at something that Ron had said, and shrugged.
Hermione looked back at Harry, not forgetting his offer. "Yes, please. I'd appreciate that."
The common room was a definite no. The library might've been a bit more calm...but then again, if Madam Pince began snapping at Hermione, any chances of her emotional breakdown getting better soon would shatter into a million pieces.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, looking down into her lap, tears still falling.
Ron didn't look in her direction, so it was obvious he hadn't heard her. But Harry did.
"For what?" Harry asked, confused, in the same low whisper.
"Breaking down...again," she replied.
"You don't have to be sorry for that. It's okay."
"It's not. Really, Harry, everyone's going to get tired of this...I'm sorry..."
"It isn't your fault," Harry whispered, looking back at Ron to make sure he wasn't paying any attention to their conversation. "Nobody is blaming you."
"Harry -- "
"Aren't we almost at the library?" Ron interupted, putting his hands in his pockets and paying full attention to them now.
Nodding, Harry pushed Hermione's wheelchair around the next corner, and entered the library...
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked the moment Ron left for the bathroom; about ten minutes after they had came into the library.
Was it wrong to be even the slighest bit jealous of Ron, who had been making Hermione laugh so easily? Harry had just been sitting there, watching Hermione's beautiful smile and hearing her cheerful laugh. Of course he was happy that she now seemed joyful, but was it good to just cover up the holes with laughter? After a while it would hurt her more...
"Nothing," he lied.
"I'm not stupid," she said plainly, folding her arms across her chest.
"Everyone knows you're not stupid."
Hermione laughed quietly. "Seriously, though, Harry...what's wrong?" She tilted her head to one side and studied his face. "You can tell me. You know that."
Harry shrugged. "Ron doesn't understand..."
"Doesn't understand wh-- Oh." Hermione looked down and twiddled her fingers. "I know he doesn't. You do." She looked up at him.
"I know that. I just don't want you to get more hurt...he's making you laugh, and of course I don't mind you laughing, really, I don't, but in the end -- "
"I get what you're saying," she said with a nod. "Are you...jealous?"
"No," Harry said firmly.
"Harry..."
He sighed. "You know I don't get jealous of other guys easily."
"He's getting attention from me," she stated. "I understand." Hermione gently placed her left hand on his right one. "You understand."
"Of course." They were getting a bit off topic, talking about Ron, when Harry's intentions were for her to talk about her mum. It might've soothed her. Another wound beginning to heal. "Do you...want to talk about her? You know, about your mum..."
Hermione smiled, her eyes getting wet again.
"I mean I completely understand if you don't want to talk about her..."
"No, it's fine," she whispered, smiling again. "I think it would be good to talk about her."
Harry nodded, willing her to continue.
The moment Hermione begun talking about the woman who brought her into this world, Harry's attention was completely taken. He barely noticed when Ron rejoined them; Hermione didn't really seem to notice, either. She was looking at Harry, and nobody else.
"...I remember that up until I was six, she'd read me a story every night before I fell asleep. And every time, they were different stories. I really don't know how she had to time to buy so many books for me," Hermione continued, shrugging.
"I always wondered how you developed your interest in books," Harry said with a wink.
She laughed and continued. "Oh, and when McGonagall came to visit my house to deliver my Hogwarts letter. Now that was something interesting...you see, my mum was a really paranoid person. She saw someone in incredible robes and a stern expression, and she immediately flipped out. Got a spatula and everything..."
Hermione told stories about her mother for another hour or so, and Harry was fascinated by this woman. She seemed to have been very strong, for a muggle, at least, and very protective of Hermione. It made him feel even more guilty...
It was until Madam Pince yelled the time at them that they didn't even realize that it was nearly midnight.
"Wow," was all Harry could really say once they entered the common room. "Your mum seemed brilliant."
"Oh, she was," Hermione said. She flinched at the word was, and he quickly stroked her hair in such a way that Ron didn't see.
Ron only nodded and walked up the stairs to the boy's dormitories, appearing to be deep in thought.
"Well, I suppose this is good night -- " Harry began awkwardly.
"Er..." Hermione said quietly. "Could we sit down for a bit?"
Harry smiled at her. "Of course."
She smiled back as he carried her to her usual seat on the main couch.
"That was kind of...refreshing...you know...talking about my mum like that," Hermione said. Her eyes were focused on the dimming flames within the grand fireplace. "Thanks."
He gently rubbed her back. "I enjoyed listening."
A few moments of absolute silence passed between them before Hermione spoke again.
"I miss her."
It was all she had to say for Harry to carry her to his lap. She adjusted herself into his embrace and cried into his shoulder.
Harry knew this would happen. It was almost impossible talk about a deceased loved one for over an hour and not break down like this. But afterwards, Hermione would be okay. He understood. It was just the healing process.
"Thank y-you," Hermione managed to stutter. "For...for b-being here for m-me..."
Harry held her closer to him.
"I'll always be here," he whispered in her ear.
Author's Note: I'd like to mention that Markovitch issue seems more resolved but it's not completely resolved. I know that several reviewers are going to blast me with "that's immature to (kind of) solve a problem with just Dumbledore's order". You know how I roll with that dramatic stuff. Pretty please review :) I'll love you forever and I'll reply to your review. Even ask my frequent reviewers. I love them :D