Disclaimer: Harry Potter ain't no creation o' mine ya hear?
Notice: I don't bash. I don't do bashing. Characters will be portrayed to the best of my ability as canon to start with. A warning. I will probably dramatically diverge them as the story goes on.
Forward: Writing this rather quickly after I released my last chapter as I don't want to lose the forward Momentum. Got some relatively good ideas for future plot moments and this chapter is simply full of them.
Apologies to those who just can't stand the Ron/Hermione and Harry/Cho as this chapter will be laced with those elements at the seams. Don't worry. I'll make up for it in the future. I promise promise promise that this story 'is' leading towards the True and Proper Pairing of the world.
And hell. Action is going to start taking the place of the teenage drama soon anyways. Rakinishu bitches.
I suppose its not exactly the clearest thing I've ever done but I suppose some of you are probably wondering about the quotes from the beginning of the story that are clearly NOT from the story at all. Telling you what t they are from though is... rather unusual. In my mind the canon characters are sitting in a movie theatre and watching my story play out, commenting all the while. These are... humorously perverted outtakes from that scenario.
That said, lets get this show started!
We like to compartmentalize. Action Movies are action Movies. Adventure stories are filled with fantasy. Comedy stays with Comedy. And Romance is only Romance. This habit, it is a failure. A story cannot be just comedy or just Drama. Life is all of these things. Think on that the next time you categorize your story.
Though for the record, if at any point you yell Yippie Kay Yay Mother Fucker, it had damn well better be an action moment...
… Romance is acceptable too. ;)
Error of Soul
"Wait, you think that I...?! I seek power, you ingrate! That doesn't mean I don't like a good shag every now and then. Of course I still 'have it'!"
–Lord Voldemort
Hermione's eyes were still a bit bloodshot. She was having trouble sleeping but not nearly as much as she had that very first night. The trick was a matter of control. She wanted to sleep, and Harry's thoughts distracted her from that. The obvious solution was to tune out Harry's thoughts and with an effort she'd found herself capable of a doing so.
The bond was growing stronger. She was able to hear him from as far as the great Hall now. Weirdly, that was making some things easier. Before their bond had been an uncontrolled mess. Feelings with no context. But as the bond grew sharper, she began to distinguish which was which.
She could... feel which emotions, which touches were actually on her skin and which ones were actually things touching Harry. That didn't make an itch Harry had any easier to scratch when she felt it on her bum though.
"Harry! Scratch your bloody arse! Its itchy!"
"In the middle of class!?" he bit back, rather reasonably. Even so, he adjusted himself, sliding up and down the uncomfortable dungeon seat awkwardly.
Blessed relief filled Hermione, and she made note to force Harry to get some underclothes that were made of something other than wool.
That amused Harry and he couldn't stop the grin. That of course, was foolish.
"Mister Potter, are you finding something humorous about this class?" Severus Snape's drawl filled the room and filled Harry with agitation.
"No Sir," he replied.
"Then why are you grinning like a moron, instead of seeing to your test?" The class, Slytherins mostly, giggled hysterically. Snape paid them no mind.
Chapter Six
Too Much Pumpkin Juice
"S-Sorry, Sir," Harry stuttered out, embarrassed. He buried his face in his parchment and began to read the questions for today's bloody pop quiz, inwardly cursing Snape's parents for unleashing him upon the world.
Hermione giggled mentally, but was smart enough to keep it to herself.
A pleasant buzz filled Harry's mind and he realized idly that it was Hermione's beehive-efficient mind routing out the answers for the test questions. He began to read.
"When creating a Permignion Draught, what must be added after the Centipede legs? How much? What effects occur when this step is ignored? Explain."
That bloody bastard. Of course he would pick a question from the section he'd assigned nearly a month ago. Damn, he was never going to pass this bloody class...
"Oh that one's easy!" Hermione thought pleasantly. "You add water, of course. Two pints. If you forget to add the water the soluble won't begin to boil properly and the legs and fins won't dissolve. Instead the potion will turn into a corrosive acid that could eat through your cauldron if it isn't made of cuendillar or protected by enforcement spells."
Harry's eyes widened.
Slowly, a devious smile began to form on his face.
As he wrote a reworded version of Hermione's answer he grinned to himself. Snape wouldn't know what hit him. Harry would ace his stupid class and wipe that damn smile off his face. He'd know every answer the man asked! All thanks to wonderful Hermione!
Of course, Hermione saw all of this as a wave of images of a shocked Snape, and tests with 100 percents written across the top. They came with a feeling of devious elation that she'd rarely felt from Harry.
She was horrified.
"H-Harry how could you!? Stop that! That's cheating!"
A wash of guilt flowed across the bond but was quickly quashed by indignation.
"I can't stop Hermione! You think everything! Every test we have is going to be like this," he replied.
"That doesn't make it right!" she thought back and chanced a moment to turn her eyes toward him. She gave him a glare as hard as stone. "Dumbledore has asked me to tolerate this, Harry. I won't tolerate cheating. We could be bloody expelled!"
Harry groaned dismally. They'd made it through nearly the whole week. Oh, Harry admitted he'd wanted to kill the girl a few times, but it had been alright. Hermione was one of his best friends. She'd jumped in the line of a killing curse for him. She'd stuck by his side even when Ron hadn't believed him last year in the tournament. She already knew most of his darkest secrets anyway.
The Soul Bond was just that, a permanent connection between their minds and hearts. It had no on off switch, only a faulty mute button that had been stuck down so you couldn't ever use it reliably. You had to mash at it in the hope for a few hours peace, and it usually ignored your attempts.
That was what it was like trying to block their thoughts off from one another. It worked. Sparingly. Rarely... not nearly enough to tune out the his best friend. And by Merlin's beard, the girl was annoying! Nattering on and on and on in an endless tirade of thoughts that never ceased. She thought of the weather. She thought of commanding the weather with a magical device and calling it a machine to end hunger in the dry places of the muggle world. She thought of what type of knickers Ron might find most attractive. She thought of which ones Harry might find most attractive, which he had unwillingly been forced to admit he was a black lace man.
She thought of S.P.E.W. and her god-given crusade to free the elves from their self imposed slavery. Good god, he'd nearly stupefied himself a few times to get out of hearing more of that crap.
But she was his Hermione. He loved her. No matter how annoying or silly she was, or how her thoughts slowly became a permanent buzz in the back of his mind, she was his friend. Nothing could ever break that...
...Which made the fact that his mind was consumed with images of strangling her rather unusual. "Give me the answers woman!" He sent jokingly. "Besides... is it really cheating?"
"Oh Harry, you're just as bad you know," she said, sending the emotion that Harry tied strongly to the self satisfied smile she gave when one of her boys figured something out during homework. "...Yammering on and on about Quidditch and Cho. Sometimes I see so many of your thoughts in my head I get confused on which picture is real: The one I'm seeing or the one you're imagining. Still, thanks, you big dolt. I love you too. And yes. Its still cheating."
He sighed in mock exasperation.
"Alright, I'll try to stop. But... are you sure I couldn't have just a few little answers?"
Hermione's soft emotion hardened to steel.
"Alright alright, I get it."
Unfortunately for the two of them, not cheating was nearly as difficult as cheating was normally. The ability to blot out their thoughts came and went as it wished, not as either of them commanded, and it was perilously absent when they needed it most..
"What is a Zaod? Where can one be found? Explain the process of harvesting it."
Hermione groaned at this question. It was gross answer and even writing it felt a little sickening to her. Unfortunately for Harry, she couldn't help but answer it. In her head.
A tiny little part of Harry yelped 'yes!' in delight, but for the most part he could only guiltily write down a version of her words that would make sense under his untidy scrawl. A tiny little part of Hermione began to hate Harry's guts.
"Harry. If you don't stop using me like this, I swear to god I'll think of nothing but S.P.E.W. for the rest of the day."
Harry cringed. It had been a sore point for them all day when Hermione found out what Harry actually thought of Hermione's campaign. That being a waste of time. Was that rude or callous of him? Hermione apparently thought so.
"I can't though Hermione! I'm really sorry...!" And that was legitimate. He didn't want to be a cheater. Even more so he didn't want Hermione to think of him as one.
Hermione didn't know whether to call him sweet for his concern for her thoughts, or scold him for his care over her opinion more than the actual act of cheating itself. So instead she left the issue alone entirely and cast it out of her mind. Harry only got a few vague wisps of confusion across the bond. And a little bit of flattered embarrassment as well.
The questions got worse as the test went on and Hermione explained each answer to Harry in unwillingly excruciating detail. Harry was surprised to find he'd already known the answers to several, but the frothing rage with which Hermione stormed out of the room at the end of the lesson made him wish he'd been able to just take the Dreadful he probably would've gotten without the bond.
It was impossible not to listen to her, and once he knew the right answer in all its perfection, how could he just write what he'd known would be wrong?
That didn't stop the lump of guilt from filling his throat as he stood to hand in a masterpiece of Potions knowledge to the professor.
For a moment he stood. Then he thought better of it.
He sat back down and began to feverishly erase his answers to a few of the questions. Irritating as quill ink was incredibly difficult to get rid of and It probably wouldn't help. He couldn't un-know the answers but he could at least drop a few down to what he figured he might've written before being force-fed the information.
It took another five or ten minutes to dumb his paper down to his usual level and Hermione's almost burning anger had cooled a little. Hidden though, underneath the anger coming from her, was a sharp undercurrent of hurt. He couldn't understand how he could tell which kind of hurt, but he knew Hermione felt deeply betrayed.
The distance between them grew greater and he had a feeling she'd gone up to the Astronomy Tower. From that height her thoughts were muffled and would be until he left the dungeons. But her emotions stung him. He wanted to do right by her. He didn't want the answers!
So why did she feel so... used? He didn't know. The lump in his throat lingered for a long while after he turned in his paper and left.
Guilt.
Guilt.
Sorrow.
Apologetic Sorrow. Request for forgiveness.
Guilt. Guilt.
Hermione sighed. Harry hadn't wanted to prod her so he'd stayed in the lower levels of Hogwarts where it was difficult to hear each others' thoughts. Soon even this respite would be lost to them as the bond grew stronger and stronger.
She'd felt sick and used. Old friends had only wanted her near them to do their homework for them in her elementary school days. This took her right back to that time, but she had grown since then. Instead of tearing up like a whiney little girl, she teared up like a whiney little adolescent and drizzled the mixture with a dollop of anger.
She'd been sitting at the top of the Astronomy Tower for the better part of an hour crying into her book stack and feeling sorry for herself. Was Harry just using her? Had he always been? Did he even care about her or did he just want her around because she was smart?
But no. She was being stupid. She could feel what Harry thought as plain as day! In fact, he felt so damn guilty about it that it was almost impossible to remain angry with him. He honestly knew how to treat a girl. And getting the answers from her wasn't really his fault.
… Maybe she liked Harry more than she'd ever thought? He was... so very kind.
"Harry?" She posed tentatively as she walked down the stairs. Potions had ended early today, as Snape never wanted to teach a lesson when he held his tests. Hermione had now had ample time to get her tears out and she was feeling ready to face the world without snapping at it once more.
"Hermione! Look I changed my test to make it less... yours. I didn't want you to be–!"
"That's sweet Harry," she interrupted lightly. "But you didn't have to do that. It isn't your fault."
"But... but!"
Indignation. Confusion. Mild depression. "I wanted that O!"
Hermione laughed. "Alright. You did have to do it... Harry. Thank you. I couldn't ask for a better friend."
Harry blushed and his emotions crept through the bond. Hermione sighed again. Damn Harry and his whole 'noble' thing. She'd wanted a reason to be good and mad at him! Why, she couldn't say. This thought distracted her as she turned a corner near the entrance to the great hall a few moments later and bumped into a great whale of a woman, which sent her sprawling to the floor.
"Ow!" She hissed and glared only to find herself face to face with the sharp eyes and toad-like qualities of Professor Umbridge.
She schooled her features but inwardly her glare hardened. The woman had gained a bit of her respect during the last few days but the ridiculous gloves Harry was still wearing to hide the words permanently scarred into his hand were still fresh on her mind.
"Miss Granger. Kindly watch your step," the twit said before turning her nose back to whatever it was she'd been doing, and walking towards the wall.
Hermione growled as she stood up and picked up her scattered notes and a few quills that had fallen loose. Even so, her attention was focused entirely upon where Professor Umbridge had gone.
To her near shock, the tear-strewn form of Mr. Filch stood atop a tall ladder. Great big crocodile tears fell down his face as, one by one, he pulled down each and every Decree that Delores had posted over the past half a year.
"Honestly. Was I bloody mad?" Hermione caught the woman mumble to herself.
Today would be Umbridge's first class since she'd been hospitalized the previous Friday. What had changed since then? Why was she taking down so many of her silly decrees now? That locket?
Hermione didn't know.
Transfiguration was a blast. It usually was even though the Wicked Witch of the West Wing usually kept the class in a tightly controlled order. Transfiguration was just fun. But it was especially fun on the days when McGonagall allowed 'freestyle.'
They had learned double transfigurations over the course of the last two weeks and today Professor McGonagal was finally allowing them a chance to roam freely with all of their previous incantations and do what they would.
With a grin the woman had spilled a plethora of knick-knacks and old items from the mundane to the bizarre onto the floor. The desks had been pushed back to the walls.
Anticipation mounted.
"Begin!"
And the room became a festival of enjoyment. Harry merrily employed his idea of changing a selection of quills into pies. Then he changed the pies into birds with a much weaker transfiguration. The birds, quite naturally, flew up into the rafters before the weak transfiguration ruptured leaving them pies once more. Students and the teacher alike laughed as it rained pies that morphed from their splattered places on peoples faces, back into the feathers that they were.
Rings became Hula Hoops, became radios. Figurines morphed into snowballs and were hurled at one another, and the ambient magic that had split them morphed the snow back into figurines before their very eyes.
Ron did a particularly humorous transfiguration of a roll of paper by turning it into a cat. Hermione had been impressed by that as transfiguring a cat was relatively difficult.
He then transfigured a beaters club into a small stool and placed a ball of yarn on top. Repeatedly the cat jumped up to get the yard and repeatedly did the cat scramble as the stool turned back into a beater's club.
Needless to say, Transfiguration was, and had always been, a longtime favorite class at Hogwarts. Like all good things, it was over far too soon.
An hour after splatting Ron in the face with a pie made of feathers, Harry found himself walking slowly into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to find a very different place.
Lower years had already had classes. Rumor was faster than Harry's Firebolt and they'd had classes with Umbridge already. Could they be believed? Could the woman actually have begun to teach?
Well, last Friday she had but that didn't really count. One day wasn't enough to blot out an entire semester of sitting there twiddling her thumbs while snidely staring down at her so-called "students." The woman was a horror, and even if she did begin to teach Harry thought he would probably still hate her. He rubbed his hand idly through his ever present gloves. It had lost feeling on the back.
"Your gloves and my scarf. What a pair we make, Harry."
Harry grinned. What a pair indeed.
They entered the room slowly and found that, like Transfiguration before, the classroom's desks weren't in the usual positions. Unlike Transfiguration, these desks were simply gone.
They'd been early and now waited as the rest of the students filed in, standing awkwardly near the middle of the room. The cats, meowed in anticipation in their creepy frames. Harry decided the graveyard at the end of last year was more pleasant than this detestable room.
Umbridge sat upon her throne in the only remaining desk that was present. Student's eyes lingered heavily on her missing arm but she didn't seem to let in hinder her. Her wand was present and as the last student filed in she quickly flicked it at the door. Students jumped as it slammed shut hard.
"Now students," She began in her usual preparatory fashion. "Your wands will be out in this classroom from now on. You will no longer bring your books to class. They will be more of a hindrance anyway. Who among you would you say is the worst caster?"
Awkward mumbling. No one wanted to admit to something like–!
"That'd... uhm... probably be me, Professor." Neville raised his hand. Several Slythern's chuckled while several Gryffindor's squawked in disapproval. Hermione quietly steamed but was too far from Neville to voice her dissatisfaction with his answer.
"Yes, yes you'll do just fine Longbottom. And the best? The best caster!"
"I–" Draco attempted. He didn't even manage to get out another word.
"Harry." Hermione said, along with half the class. Notably even a few Slytherin's had piped up in Harry's favor. No one had heard Harry speak with Hermione's name, but Hermione herself, through the bond. She felt flattered.
Ron had said nothing, glancing between his two friends as if saying either name would be a betrayal to the other. Hermione was amused, and Harry had to agree.
"Of course it is. Well here." The woman said, lifting a hat with a levitation spell and sending it floating around the room. Inside it were man slips of paper. "Each of you take a slip. No no, not you Longbottom or Harry. You two come to the middle of the class. Everyone else on the walls please. Hurry now, pip pip."
They did as told, confused and unsure. Hermione had an eyebrow raised in curiosity and Harry tried hard to tune her out.
"Now," said Umbridge. "Neville I would like you– No Malfoy, I didn't say you could open the paper yet. Grab another. You too Seamus. Neville. I want you to cast at Harry. Harry, with your permission, I'd like you to only block. Use Protego spells only, continuing with our lesson from last Friday. Neville you have permission to use and charms or hexes but no curses. Are we clear?
Neville, quite nervously, nodded. Harry, confident in his abilities, did the same.
It began easily. Neville, despite how much Harry liked the boy, was not a dueler. His spells were slow and Harry found himself lazily blocking them, sending them up into the room's ceiling to dissipate against Hogwart's mighty and indifferent walls.
"Impedimenta. Ruxdavois. Deltiaga. Abiurspectus!"
Neville had a rather impressive chain but frankly he was so bloody unconfident that it hindered his every move. Each spell was cast tentatively. He was on display for everyone to see and he was failing. With each spell Harry blocked, Neville grew worse and worse. The hopelessness of him ever getting through Harry's iron clad defense making him even less effective.
Harry, naturally, grew slightly annoyed at this. He'd been trying for months to get the other Gryffidor to show some damn balls and dammit he'd done so! In the DA. Among friends. Here was a different story. Here was... pathetic.
"You're better than this, Neville!" he barked after Neville cast a Stupify that had lacked the ability to even reach him.
The effect his words would've had wasn't to be known as suddenly one of the students around the room fired a jelly legs jinx at him. He blocked it, surprised. Barely. Turning he glared at the culprit only to find himself glaring at Parvarti Patil's raised wand. Why had she...?
Neville sent another volley but Harry was on edge now and he blocked the new series of spells with a worried vigor. What the hell was–?
He turned, instinct and the distinct rush of power that one could distantly feel, along with Malfoy's sonorous 'Stupefy' only barely saved him as he turned fully to block Malfoy's oncoming attack. He sent the other boy a smirk.
He slumped into unconsciousness as a Stupify slammed into his back, courtesy of Neville from the other side. Well. He'd grown some balls after all.
Nearby, Hermione's eyes sunk. For half a moment she fought the onslaught of unconsciousness as she felt Harry assaulted with the Stupify. Something was there. Something strong! If only she could... reach out. And...
But no.
Darkness took her.
"Enervate."
Harry heard the word and was slammed into the waking world with all the force of a hammer. Enervate was an interesting spell. You could cast it softly and make it a warm breeze that coaxed the person back awake...
...Or you could make it a bucket of ice water. This was the latter.
"As you can see class, the point of this lesson is relatively simple. Defense Against the Dark Arts. Tell me, mister Weasley, who is more likely to win if Neville and Harry fight?
Harry glared at her.
"Uhh... I... Harry. Ma'am," Ron said dutifully. "No offense, Nev,"
The boy laughed a little and waved Ron away.
"And if Harry faces, say, Neville and Parvati?" She turned her view away at this point addressing the rest of the class, but before anyone could answer she continued. "And if he faces Neville, Parvarti, and young Draco? The answer is obvious. The lesson today, is that eyes are stronger than wands. The more of them you have, the more effective you will be against any enemies you might face. This class is about defense. And the greatest defense is most often found in numbers."
Hermione Granger shook herself from the corner of the room. Her head ached and she had to hold back a groan as consciousness returned to her as well. Slower than it had for Harry, but she could feel the effects of an Enervate washing over her. Luckily she'd been leaning against the wall and it seemed no one had noticed her brief lapse into unconsciousness.
"There are exceptions to every rule of course. Some wizards..." She stopped for a moment and a shudder ran through her before she continued. "...Some wizards are so powerful that no amount of numbers can ever be enough. But the most likely enemies that any of you will face, can be overpowered easily if they are overwhelmed with wands sending spells at them."
"Practical." thought Hermione as she finally managed to return to her full senses. At least she hoped so. Getting hit with a stupefy really sucked.
The class continued on a relatively upbeat note. Umbridge had three students in the center each watching each others backs as she signaled students to open fire. As it turned out that had been all the original paper had been for. She had opened the folded strips for Parvarti and Malfoy at her own whim. All of the pieces said the same thing though.
Attack.
What it ended up being was a rather humorous game that reminded Hermione of Duck Duck Goose. Harry, having never before heard of this, questioned her on it and that of course led to more of their unending conversation.
Class went on and the two of them conversed over a hundred mindless things. Duck Duck Goose led to Hopscotch, which Harry had at least heard of, and seen children play at his own muggle school. They grinned. Exchanged smiles and laughter that no one else was privy to.
Not ten minutes later, they were glaring daggers at one another.
Again.
"Dammit Hermione, I can't even hold you? Is that so bad?" Ron asked, peevishly. His ears were cold from quidditch practice but his face was red. Not anger but sheer frustration was so easy to read that Hermione needed no soul bond.
He shoveled a bit of Minced Pork Pie into his mouth and then leaned back on the couch of Gryffindor's common room to stretch. It wasn't unusual for quidditch players to grab a quick lunch before bed and carry it up to the dormitory.
Harry was up in his room, but Hermione could hear him. Always.
"I'd really rather you not hold me, Ron. Not that sort of bloke." he chipped in, having heard Ron's conversation through Hermione's mind.
Hermione sighed regretfully. "Ron I... It makes him uncomfortable. I can't say it wouldn't be the same for me if Harry were trying to cozy up to a girl."
Her eyes suddenly went sharp. "Which his is."
"Its not my fault. She's... really beautiful."
Wistful feelings of longing, Harry's longing for Cho, reached out to Hermione and intermingled with her own. A whole wall of 'WANT' crept up her spine and made her heart beat fast as she stared at the redhead next to her. Her mind conjured an image of her throwing herself on top of him and kissing the bit of chocolate off his cheek.
"Ew..." said Harry ruining it. "I like it more when you think in words. Please don't do that..."
She sighed again. Hermione felt not a little bit of resentment towards Harry for this bond that had formed between them. It was an empty anger though. He had no more to do with it than she did, but he was... He was in the way.
Of course she couldn't hide that emotion from Harry, and the guilt feeding back over didn't help anything.
Ron reached over and grasped her in a fierce hug, quite surprising her out of her reverie. "I love you. Harry's... well I love him too. He's a brother, same as the rest," he let out a sigh of his own. "God dammit though..."
Hermione fidgeted. Her heart bubbled in the way of young women in young love. Harry himself felt a little bit touched. And... just a hair uncomfortable. Inwardly, Hermione felt him trying to mute the feelings between them and failing horribly to do so. Both to give them privacy, and to hide his own embarrassment. That made her smile. Harry could be so sweet sometimes.
And such a bear the rest of the time.
"Tell him I say he's alright too." Harry sent awkwardly.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "He says he loves you too Ron."
"HEY! Thats not what I...!"
"Er... he heard that?"
Yet a third time Hermione sighed. "Everything I think, he hears. He gets the full conversation, though its a little strange."
Harry grumbled hatefully at Hermione and not a little bit at Ron. Why wasn't the boy being a bloody jealous git like he had been last year? That would've been easier to handle. But now Harry just felt guilty for getting in between what probably would've been a beautiful romance, tinged with thousands of arguments that he wanted no part of.
Maybe Ron just wanted in Hermione's pants. Yeah. That was probably why he was being so mushy. If Ron was a cad, then Harry didn't have to feel guilty about it. Yeah...
"Harry, how could you think that of your best friend!"
And of course, now Harry felt doubly guilty.
"Well if it were true then I could hate him in peace!"
"You–!"
"Kiss him. Go on, I'll handle it... Just. Don't make a habit of it okay?" Harry thought toward the girl.
Her eyes widened for just a moment. Pure gratitude washed through the bond in an intense wave. She didn't hesitate. If she did he might change his mind. She barreled onto Ron knocking him back onto the couch and locked lips with him in a rather charming embrace. Dean and Seamus traded knowing grins. Whispers hidden behind soft hands exchanged around the room. Fred barked harshly at Lee Jordan to 'Pay up!' but Hermione didn't care.
The kiss it was magic...
Or...
Well...
No... No.. well. It was actually sort of like kissing a damp pillow. Ron was utterly shocked, but that lasted for only a moment before he let his arms settle around her again. The kiss deepened. And Hermione felt... honestly she felt just a little grossed out. That wasn't right! How... why...?
She pulled away slowly. Where was the magic that had been there that first time? Where was the rush? The passion? The heady feeling of love that she had felt so strongly when Ron had first asked to be her boyfriend? It definitely wasn't present now.
The taste of mint filled her mouth. Harry was brushing his teeth.
"I'm sleeping on my stomach tonight for this." Harry demanded.
"But that hurts my boobs!" the girl hissed back.
"Don't care."
Hermione bristled, embarrassed by the cat calls and hoots of the various Gryffindor's who'd been present for the whole fiasco. Ron's goofy grin and the fact that she felt so little from the kiss did nothing to help her.
It was not a pleasant night.
The night passed and finally Saturday, wonderful Saturday arrived. They'd been feeling grouchy but neither could really remember what it had been that had started their last argument. They kept recovering and kept getting into petty little fights that didn't really matter. Hopefully that was enough... but it was becoming easier and easier to find themselves resenting one another.
Both of them hated it.
It was time they took Dumbledore up on his suggestion. But, since it was the twins they were dealing with they might as well have a little fun.
Hermione grinned and gave Harry a slight nod.
Harry returned the grin as their thoughts ran in tandem. They'd deliberated in silence for the past several minutes on how to do this and had decided that taking a page from their targets' own book was a relatively good idea.
"Okay, I'm going to start it," Hermione voiced as they moved up to one of the private rooms on the fourth floor of Hogwarts. It wasn't really a prank per say. But both of them truly hoped that their targets would be shocked out of their wits.
"Gotcha," Harry replied, his thoughts forming a picture of a thumbs up.
Hermione gave a slow breath and slowly raised a hand to the hard wooden door.
A clanking noise was echoing from behind the wood, but that was relatively common. Everyone knew the Weasley twins were always busy in there building their pranking concoctions. Explosions, usually mild, were known to frequent the fourth floor hallway in the northern wing. Fortunately the two didn't seem to be in the middle of anything too destructive at the moment.
She rapped hard four times.
"A customer Fred! Get the door!"
"Was about to ask you to do that!" Fred replied loudly enough to be heard out in the hallway. "Wait... EUREKA!"
BOOOM!
The door shook on its frame and Hermione lost her balance at the explosion that wracked the entire castle. Harry, surer of feet, felt her distortion and instantly caught her before she fell on her ass.
Silence seemed to flow over them and an eerie black smoke seeped from under the doorway.
"That... can't have been good," Harry murmured, his hands wrapped tightly around Hermione's waist.
"Thanks for catching me, Harry."
In Harry's way of sending thoughts as pictures, Hermione formed one of her own and sent back to him. The boy blushed as he was greeted with the image of Hermione kissing his forehead.
"No problem!" He squeaked in the way of adolescent boys.
She giggled.
The door opened upon Harry and Hermione, both of their eyes going wide.
A rather... disheveled Fred-or-George Weasley stood there, his red hair nearly charred black with soot and a sort of silvery slime. "Hello Potter! Granger! Getting cozy outside our door, are we?"
It took half a tick for the comment to register. Then the two sprang apart like a bolt leaving a crossbow, their faces flushed red.
'Dammit, now its ruined!'
'We can salvage it! We'll just have to improvise.'
A plan of action came outlined with Harry's thought and Hermione grinned. Yes that would do! It wasn't exactly the speech she had prepared but...
"Fred!" Harry began.
"Or George," Hermione added, and after that it was almost as easy as breathing.
"It has come to our attention,"
"That you and us might,"
"Have something unusual in common."
"You see, we were hoping that you,"
"Might enlighten us on,"
"Your soul bond,"
"So we don't go all crazy like,"
"Ron seems to think we will."
Their words strung together in such a horrifyingly perfect imitation of the Weasley's speech that Fred's (or George's) eyes were wide with utter shock by the time they had finished.
The Weasley was silent for a long moment as he stared at the two.
"Fred... Freeeeedddd!?" He nearly panicked. It was George apparently.
"What George!? I swear I had it before that explosion got in the way... What! What's all the fuss?" hissed the other twin. Smoke cleared out to reveal the second twin laying on the floor, buried under a mountain of cauldrons and scattered stirring utensils, while also being covered in clearly comical black soot. Otherwise he seemed fine.
"I... think you might want to get over here..."
"This seems to be going well. He looks bloody horrified!" thought Harry.
"I don't think that's the look of someone who's been given a good prank Harry. Dammit is this Soul Bond thing really so bad? I mean... yeah. We've fought a little..."
Harry gave her a blank stare.
"...Okay. Alot. But I just can't imagine coming to hate you. We're too close for that, aren't we?"
Harry thought long and hard on those words. Both of them kept telling themselves that sort of thing. Hermione and I are the best of friends. We'll never break. I could never abandon her. He means the world to me!
But when it came down to it, their fights were getting more and more common, even if they were endless squabbles in their heads.
He was just so tired of her. Every now and then he just wanted a break. He loved his friends but could he really spend every waking minute with them? Non stop? Sometimes he just wanted a little alone time. Sure he loved Pumpkin Juice. Did that mean he wanted it every day? Breakfast lunch and dinner? Forever? Of course not!
"Now I'm pumpkin juice, am I?" Hermione pouted.
"You made the same damn analogy comparing me to a transfiguration text yesterday!"
She blushed. "Touche, Harry," She said aloud. Her feelings were muted but she sent mixed emotions of hurt and mild approval. She felt the same way but it hurt for her to do so. She just wanted to relax and do a comparative study or two without Harry nattering her to stop reading so much!
"You never do anything but study!" Harry commented sadly, inadvertently trying to superimpose his world view on her. "There are better things sometimes Hermione! You just have to get out and see them!"
She growled a little.
"Oh dear... I don't think they were lying at all." George said lowly as the other twin made his way across the room. "Did you see there? They just had a whole conversation... Fred... they're just like us."
A short while later the four of them sat in a few small wooden chair curled around the single remaining undestroyed table in the room. Charr decked the walls along with splotches and stains of every color. Most of these were old and showed obvious signs of being meticulously cleaned. However, stains such as these soaked straight into Hogwarts walls, mixing magics to form a kind of beautiful catastrophe. Harry had no doubt that the Weasleys hadn't been the first to use it and they wouldn't be the last. It was a prankster's paradise.
"So... you two have a soul bond. Tough luck there. Couple of sixth years had one back in our first year. Was horrible. They'd been great friends up till that point but just... fell out after that. Had a couple of nasty arguments in the great hall. Actually got rather...unpleasant."
"That's what we're worried about," Hermione said softly. "We... both of us feel like we have a perfect friendship. We've..." She blushed a little. "...learned a bit more about each other. Some more than we'd care to know. But we're... afraid."
One of the twins nodded. "Not good. All those other couples who developed the bond were close too. Thats kind of how it starts. How'd you figure out that we had one though?"
"Dumbledore."
"THAT's why we can't ever get him! He knows our tricks!" the other twin burst out irritably.
Harry shrugged giving them both a grin. "I don't know. Dumbledore's right clever. He might just be out of your league. Him knowing you two share thoughts doesn't really change much."
George, or the twin Harry thought was George sighed. "The soul bond isn't just sharing thoughts Harry. Its more than that."
"So much more..." Fred intoned. Whether in genuine awe, or just for dramatic effect, neither of them could tell.
An odd moment of silence fell but Harry broke it before it became awkward. "So... how did you two develop a bond? Any more surprises that we should expect?" He asked succinctly.
George gave a long sigh. "I... well ours was pretty much from the womb. We were so similar growing up that our bond developed right fast. Dad thinks it happened at seven. Mum thinks it started at four, and we tend to believe our Mum.
Hermione furrowed her brow. "That's... probably not going to be very helpful. You're experience must've been entirely different from ours. At four you wouldn't even understand. You'd just think any thought that came to your mind was yours."
"Exactly!"
"That's our Hermione,"
"Right genius that one; I always said so."
"Quite, Fred. Quite."
Hermione blushed but her mind didn't let them banter away her question. "But what does that mean? I'll start thinking Harry's thoughts?"
Fred made a great show of pausing for dramatic effect. The two were fond of showmanship, that much was certain. Harry was a little annoyed actually. He sensed a bit of Dumbledore-esque mysticism in their actions. How bad would it be for something to just be plain and simple for once?
"What people don't understand," Fred said slowly. "Is that there is more to it than just hearing thoughts. There's more than that. You... you start to... blend." He tried to find the right word but seemed to be failing.
"Harry, In a few weeks I wouldn't be at all surprised to see you happily spending time in the library." George commented.
Right on his brother's heels Fred followed. "And Hermione, I'm going to be laying a bet on you saving a damsel in distress before the end of term as soon as we're done with this conversation. Or at least enjoying broom-riding."
"Its a soul bond. Not a get together or a one time shag and then bail out. Your magic wants each other. Craves it..." He paused realizing he'd just slightly alluded to an attraction between himself and Fred and turned to his brother with a grin. "Pardon me Fred. You're magic does taste exquisite today."
"I know, dear brother!" Fred chimed in.
Hermione and Harry blanched.
"I... I'm worried we're making it sound too metaphysical but there really isn't any other way to explain it. Your magic is the first thing to be affected. Then things more physical start mixing. Your food tastes. Your sense of smell. Your... personality..."
Hermione shivered and chanced a glance over at Harry. "I'm going to lose... me? I... Harry I love you but I don't want to be you!"
"Likewise!" Harry barked aloud at her.
"That is the little secret people don't want to talk about. The soul bond usually causes a lot of anger between the two. Most people think that's why they split friendships. At first its the lack of privacy. Then... then it becomes a feeling like you're losing yourself. Most people can't handle that."
"But how do you know all that! You've just said you went through all this when you were only four years old!"
The two of them blushed. "Ah... you see thats a bit of a private problem..."
Harry felt Hermione's need to know burn across the bond. Sudden horror took him as he realized that he wanted to know almost as badly. It didn't feel strange. It felt normal; this intense need that only a few days ago he'd been so... scandalized by. When had that happened? Was it a mixing of emotions? Was his personality already being affected by Hermione's?
"Calm down Harry," he told himself. "You'd want to know this sort of thing anyway." He told himself that, and Hermione gave him an apologetic look. She understood. She didn't know how, but she understood. His thoughts, those he didn't actively voice, were becoming easier for her to understand.
"We've... we've read a lot on Soul Bonds. All of them are different. No soul bond is the same but they all have similar... properties..." George admitted with a hint of embarrassment.
"We'd always been happy together, and we knew we always would be. But more recently there've been some... problems..." Fred joined in, happily taking up the conversation. Before learning about the Soul Bond their doublespeak had always been cute and endearing.
Now it had a more horrifying edge to it.
"Angelina and Katie..."
George spoke hesitantly. The weirdest part was that Hermione didn't think she'd ever seen either Weasley twin with even a hint of embarrassment. "We... Honestly... I'm calling him Fred and saying I'm George for this conversation but... the truth is..."
"We... don't actually know which of us is really which."
Harry's eyes widened. Hermione's jaw dropped. "Wait so..."
"Imagine you wake up in the morning!" Fred interrupted harshly. "You remember perfectly well that you and a lovely young woman who shall remain nameless had a wonderful snog the last evening in a secret passageway that only you and your esteemed soulbonded brother know about."
George... or at least the one who was calling himself George jumped in. "But then you perfectly remember having a wonderful time flying with an entirely different lady... on a romantic moonlit autumn night. At the same bloody time."
"Meanwhile you're brother remembers both events just as well as you do."
"Worse, when even the simple things start to mix."
"Did I put on a red shirt this morning? I remember putting on a red one. And a green one."
"The me with the green shirt was the one who dated Katie. But... was it me who put on the green shirt or was it...?"
The two gave a helpless, and very defeated sigh. Hermione was speechless. All this time, and the twins had always put on such a wonderful show. All this time and they'd... God it must tear them to pieces. How could they even know if they'd been faithful to the girl they liked?
"Of course we'd never cared about that. The Soul Bond is a little deeper than memories... a little darker too. But when we started dating and realized that we weren't sure which of us had been with which witch..."
"Clever George! Which witch!" Fred interrupted.
"Of course Fred!" George said giving a mock bow. "Anyway... we started reading on successful soulbonds..."
Hermione pulled into herself to examine the situation with a sharp sense of pity. They'd.. have to hope to find a pair of girls that were very... open. Hermione gave a soft blush at the thought, imagining coming home to a husband after a day of work and going to kiss him, never knowing whether he or his brother had been the one she'd kissed yesterday. Worse, still to be the husband. Neither would ever know which witch was with which.
Oh that was a tongue twister.
Harry grinned at her random thought. It lightened his mood but Fred's dour expression quashed that small laughter immediately.
"It... starts to get all tangled." One of them finished with a defeated sort of sigh.
Suddenly the two blinked as if having a worried thought, and then eyed the pair of fifth years suspiciously.
"We're telling you this in confidence but if we have to swear you two to secrecy,"
"We'll do it. We know the spell for unbreakable vows."
"We won't tell anyone." Harry and Hermione responded in harmony. They'd been literally floored by this revelation, utterly enraptured by the two and their horrifying tale. If they couldn't tell which one was which then...?
"Wait, why don't you just... I don't know. Change your haircut? That'll be enough of a difference that you could always tell which person did which! Or... maybe let one of you put on a few kilos? Grow a beard?" Harry asked. Hermione blinked. She hadn't actually thought of that.
Honestly this conversation was proving to be a relaxing stretch from sharing so many thoughts, despite the worries they'd gained. The twins were fast and heavy speakers, and kept both of their attention locked upon them so their thoughts didn't stray much. Harry felt a headache he hadn't known he'd had begin to ease.
"Like I said, she really is smart, Hermione."
"Gonna have to start thinking of Harry as such too though, aren't we? After all, if they do stick together then he'll know everything she knows soon enough."
"Bet he gets all 'older sisterly' on us too and starts telling us to be responsible adults."
They ignored Harry's indignant, "Hey!"
"Unfortunately though, Mister Potter,"
"The Soul Bond isn't fond of,"
"Things like that."
"Cut your hair different, and you'll wake up the next morning with your usual cut. Or your bonded will wake up with yours. Clever prank honestly if we could tell which of us had played it on which after the fact."
"Though there've been soul bonds in the past where that didn't happen. We think there's a big difference based on the gender of the two involved."
"Suffice to say though that physical changes just... don't seem to work for us. We've... we've even thought about, uhm... permanent disfiguration.
"Cutting off an ear or something."
"But... neither of us really wants to go that far."
"I see..." Harry intoned glumly. This conversation had done little to ease his mind about the bond. In fact it had upset him immensely. No wonder all those pairs had broken. To lose your... self. To become so completely immersed with the other person that there could come a time when you woke up and thought you were the other one...
"Is... is that going to happen to us?" He put forth tentatively.
The two twins perked up at this. Their change of emotion, so perfectly mirrored by the other, was startling and comical all the same when viewed under this new light. Both of them literally felt exactly the same. The same humor. The same laughter. They shared everything.
"Well I imagine you've got a bit of an advantage there."
"One of you've got bits and the other has bongos if you catch my meaning."
"But don't feel too bad if you wake up one morning thinking you need to pee sitting down and forget you're the one with the dangly parts." Fred said with a laugh towards Harry.
Harry turned green. That... wouldn't actually... happen would it?
Hermione and Harry shared an uneasy glance. Sharing not only thoughts but soon memories too...
"Will she find out about the closet? The Dursleys? Oh god I hope she doesn't feel it when my scar... or will she live through my shitty homelife?"
Worry. Fear. Regret. Embarrassment. Worry.
"...Will I see her parents as my own...?"
Hope...
Hermione fully glanced at him. She was curious. What was he so worried about her discovering? Shitty homelife? She knew he had it bad with the Dursleys but that sounded like it had a special distinction.
And... that last thought... what did that mean?
"Honestly, that's not even the worst part. After you've truly started to share memories... then. Well. Then the bond starts to become actually dangerous..."
"We're underselling it, Fred." George said with a grim face as he realized the horror slowly spreading onto Harry and Hermione's faces.
"You're right brother. They look greener than Umbridge."
"We're trying to highlight the bad parts so you'll know what to expect but..."
"There's so many good things about it!"
"Imagine being able to be in two places at once. Not only will you," George said with a wild point towards Hermione, "Start to remember with clarity just how it felt to fly like Harry does,"
At that moment, Fred sent his own finger towards Harry. "You will also start to remember the hours Hermione spent studying. More importantly, you'll start to understand things in the same way she does!"
"Best of all... there is magic in a soul bond. Special magic that no one else can know."
Harry and Hermione shared a knowing glance. Neither had understood how Hermione's skin had stopped the killing curse last Friday. Nor did they know how Harry had been able to throw the curse back. All they could write it up to was some vague and unbelievable substance called 'Soul Magic' that was only theory in the first place."
Could it be that the twins... Fred and George Weasley, held the secret to countering the killing curse that the world had been seeking for so long?
Well. There wasn't a very good way to test it now, was there?
"How... how can we learn it?" Hermione asked. Harry could barely contain his own anxiousness. A power that might be able to stop the killing curse? Oh what he wouldn't give...
"You can't." The twins replied in unison.
"It doesn't work that way."
"You can't practice."
"You can't train."
"Well... you can."
"But you have to be bonded closer than you are."
One of the twins stood up and began to circle around them. Then, to the two fifth years' shock, he held out a palm. An orb of green light sprung into life, lighting up the room with a hazy glow.
"Manald Heal..." he intoned in a voice of power that echoed. Harry was reminded vividly of Trelawny's prophecy in third year and he shuddered.
"Fred?"
"Ahh... Yes I see." Fred replied to his brother's question, his normal voice returned. The green light faded into nothingness and he lowered his palm. "Yes. Not nearly ready. Not nearly. Its getting a bit late. You two have learned all you need to from us anyway."
Hermione fumed. Every question led to more questions! "What!?"
"You can't possibly end it there! We need to know more!"
"No. You don't. Hermione, sometimes there are things better left unknown. For this one, please... you have to wait. Its obvious you two don't plan to break the bond by leaving so you'll have to deal with what comes sooner or later. For now its better if you just focus on not hating each others guts..."
"NO!" Hermione hissed angrily. "I'm tired of being treated like a little child! If there are even more secrets to this bloody bond I want to know! I NEED to know and you're going to tell me!"
Privately, Harry agreed with Hermione.
But the look on Fred's face as Hermione focused her glare on him made him reconsider...
Slowly. Hermione's glare trailed away...
The room darkened and Fred's eyes took on a sort of manic gleam. Anger filled them in a way Harry had never before seen. Hermione suddenly cowered as Fred loomed over them, his shadow seeming to grow taller and the room's light, dimmer.
"What you need is to not meddle with things you aren't ready for! If you dive too deep too quickly you could lose yourselves entirely!"
The darkness faded, and Harry let loose a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.
"Whoa! Easy Fred easy!" George consoled the other boy from across the room. "They're new... its okay. We won't let that happen to them. We know about it, now. They'll be safe enough from that. As long as they don't start trying to grow closer," He finished his words with a pointed look at the two of them.
Fred glared at his brother. "Didn't you see Harry? His eyes!? He's a bloody hero! A magic that could help him take down You-Know-Who? Of course he bloody will!"
"That doesn't matter George! We'll be here to stop them if they take it too far! Calm down! Can't you see you're scaring them?" George barked at his brother.
Startled, Fred turned to look at Harry and Hermione, both of whom had unconsciously scooted closer together.
The darkness faded completely. The lights from the torches on the walls grew bright again.
"Er... sorry. I don't get frustrated very often. I am the more hotheaded of the pair of us... At least I think I am. I'll remember telling my brother to calm down and stop yelling at the two of you just as well as I remember doing the yelling in an hour you see."
Hermione gulped. "Y-Yes..."
"Hermione... I'm sorry. I promise, "I promise!" I will tell you what to expect the moment you're both ready for it. But... for now you need to just get closer. Slowly. And try not to kill each other. After that comes the deep magics."
"All... alright. Fred. George..."
Hermione stood. Shakily. Harry put a hand on her back to support her and she mentally thanked him. Without another word, they left, feeling utterly bewildered and even more confused and anxious then when they'd walked in.
"Ah. Minister Fudge! How are you fairing this evening?" The dissenter said, his silver tongue coating the air with friendship and warm gestures. "Bad business with that last press article. I wonder who wrote it? Seems a bit over-dramatic to me."
The Minister raised an eyebrow. "Indeed..."
Fudge was worried. He was not as clever as this man, and he knew it. He treaded thin ice but he needed to be there. If Fudge was in the room, Malfoy wouldn't suspect. The man hadn't noticed the Anti-Apparition ward going up around his office. Or if he had, he was a supremely good actor.
Which he was, if the past was any indication.
'I must not give anything away,' Fudge thought strongly. His occlumency was abysmal but he was avoiding Lucius's eyes, and he did know enough to keep his thoughts from simply floating around the room like a child.
Any politician worth his salt knew that.
"I actually thought the article was monstrous. I put in a petition at the Daily Prophet to have the bawlsy bastard responsible for such rubbish sacked!" Fudge barked, his eyes betraying anger. It was an honest sort of anger. He wanted no part of that article to reach the ears of the public. He wanted them safe. He wanted them secure in the knowledge that their homes were protected by the ministry and its minister.
But they were not...
And this man, this devil whose coin found itself in the pockets of his entire administration... he had to be abolished.
Lucius gave a sly grin. Very small. Very subtle. Fudge never would've noticed it if he wasn't looking for it. The man was pleased.
Yes... More and more Fudge saw the connections. Malfoy was at the heart. He was the key, the crux, the cornerstone to the Ministry's near destruction last time. His money, his fame, and his way with words had swayed half the ministry to the hand of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And it was happening all over again.
Behind his back he held up a his hand and clenched it into a fist. That was the signal.
He couldn't hear it. His auror's were too swift and skilled for his old eyes and ears but he knew they were there. Silently hiding behind the walls and peepholes drilled for the very purpose of spying on this bastard. This man Fudge had once trusted.
"Ah Minister Fudge. Perhaps that's going a bit far?" Lucius's words didn't match his tone. Pleased humor flowed through his voice. He had not caught on. He was clueless. He believed Fudge was actually angry about the paper.
"Perhaps. But I do not think this is." Fudge said. He narrowed his eyes at the head of the house of Malfoy.
Lucius had but a half a moment.
It was not enough.
Red beams spewed from ten hidden wands curling around Fudge and illuminating him as if he were a bomb. The last thing Lucius heard as Fudge's body became a dark blurred outline was the old Minister's words. "I thought I could trust you... I thought you were my friend."
It was done.
Lucius was his prisoner. And he was going to Azkaban. Fudge would take him there personally. And then he would talk to the dementors and make sure they knew whose souls would be ripest for the taking this time.
Death Eater souls.
Fire burned in the minister's eyes.
Hermione was, bluntly put, shaken. Hours had passed since their unusual meeting with the twins, and Hermione couldn't help but see the two in an entirely new light. She would pity them if she weren't still a little bit frightened of the both of them. Fred's voice had been so... dark.
She walked slowly back from the Great Hall. Harry had gone on ahead. His voice whispered his current conversation with Ron in her mind, but she didn't really care about their current topic much.
"I'm not just going to ask her Ron! It doesn't work like that!"
Hermione grinned as the picture of Ron's shrug came back. She couldn't hear it directly but she could almost feel him nonchalantly saying "Worked for me."
Ron was such a dope sometimes.
They were talking, of course, about Harry and Cho Chang.
In her opinion, Harry was much too good for her. Sure she was easy on the eyes, she supposed. A boy would probably find her attractive. But Harry could do with a girl who had a liiittle bit more going on upstairs. Cho... well she was a Ravenclaw but Hermione didn't get 'smart' when she looked at the girl. In fact, smart was one of the last things that popped up, miles behind athletic, social, and a bit ditzy.
She grit her teeth a little. In her mind she saw Cho laughing alongside her friends at the last DA meeting and felt a wave of anger. It wasn't very often but just occasionally, Cho Chang reminded her of Gregory Goyle. She hated stupidity.
"Hey! She's not stupid!" Harry barked at her defending the girl he barely knew.
Hermione, to her credit, didn't snap back. Her neck twinged beneath her scar suddenly and she ignored it.
"I know Harry... I wasn't. Well I was thinking about her but not like you thought I... Ooooh! This is so frustrating! Why don't you understand what I mean?"
"Craven's Bane!" She yelled the password at the fat-lady and ignored the portrait's indignant 'hmph' as she slid through the portrait into Gryffindor's common room, her eyes locked on Harry's before the door even opened.
He too, stood glaring at her.
"Oh hey Hermione! Don't you think that Harry... uhm... should...?" Ron trailed off as he realized that Hermione's eyes were focused sharply on Harry's.
"I understand perfectly! You think anyone who isn't as smart as you is worthless!"
Hermione strode up to him. The room's eyes watched as she glared harder at the raven-haired boy without saying anything. Aloud anyway. Inwardly she couldn't be more affronted. He knew her better than that! How could he...?
Her neck seemed to ache suddenly like an overworked muscle. Pain slid up the side of her face but the anger at Harry's outburst shoved the sudden pain to the back of her mind.
"That is just not true! Of course I don't! I just think that Cho is... a little... a little..."
"Hermione...?"
Whispers began to echo around the common room. Everyone was always interested in the Golden Trio of Hogwarts, or at least the fame of Harry Potter. Watching Hermione and Harry glare at one another so furiously. It was... strange. Foreign. Like watching a Malfoy help a muggle.
"Hermio–!"
"WHAT RON!?" Hermione screamed, turning to glare at Ron. She was angry at herself. Angry at the fact that Ron's kiss hadn't sparked her passion. Angry that Fred had scared her earlier and at what the Soul Bond might mean for her future. Anger. Anger that she hadn't even known she'd been holding all boiling to a somehow palpable thread.
She didn't actually say anything.
"Are... you alright Hermione?" Ron asked, gingerly.
Her face was red. Her eyes were blazing. She hadn't even realized she'd only yelled at Ron in her mind.
Harry... his hand trailed up to his scar and he groaned a little.
Hermione's mind was faster than ever. She had only a moment to realize what was happening. Voldemort. His anger! His anger was bleeding into Harry like always but... now...
Pain exploded into her. Her scream pierced the halls of Hogwarts like the wail of a banshee. She sunk to her knees, rabidly clawing at her neck as the greatest pain she had ever felt in her life suddenly seemed to burn her flesh down to the bone.
"H-Harry...? He's... so angry!"
Harry rubbed his scar. She felt his pain.
The curtains were drawn tight and Hermione curled herself into a ball of emotions. How? How could it have been so bad, all along, and no one had ever known about it? Her body trembled with the knowledge as much as with the blinding pain.
The only possible conclusion was that all along Harry had been a figure of myth, stories, and legend hiding amongst them in broad daylight. His curse burned like a tremulous poisoned wound gouged down into the bone and beyond. But the sickening part about it was that he no longer even noticed it! She could feel it in his thoughts, and mannerisms. All along he'd been bearing a pain none of them had even realized. So great that she could barely stand it! Yet so small that he did not even feel it!
"It hurts... Harry it hurts." She mewled weakly, knowing he felt the exact same pain. He'd always felt it. And yet it was so much more than she'd ever been led to believe.
"How do you stand it...? How do you always stand it?" She wailed, unaware of Ron's arms cradling her. Tears trailed down the sides of her cheeks.
Someone had taken off out of the portrait hole dashing for the medical wing.
"H-Harry! What's wrong with her? Harry, do something!" Ron yelled frantically.
Harry shook his head sadly and knelt down next to his best friends. Gently, he laid a hand on Hermione's neck.
Somehow... it did feel a bit better. The pain eased. Just a little. But with the ease came thought, and she couldn't help but feel. Deep in the darkest corners of her mind she thought she could hear a voice. A dark sinister tongue that grated like grinding steel. The voice was screaming but it felt so distant it could've been a whisper.
"Must be Dumbledore... Fudge couldn't have... Crucio!"
She wept harder. Whimpered. She was terrified.
"Harry... please help me..."
"Oh god, I'm so sorry Hermione. I'm so... so sorry."
The room was quiet. No one wanted to say anything as Harry and Ron lifted Hermione and brought her to the couch. The occupants vacated it quickly for them, allowing them to lay the sweating girl down. Gryffindors all around layed eyes on the second lightning bolt scar on her neck. They watched as trail of blood sunk down Harry's face and was ignored in favor of caring for his friend.
They watched as she cried. And could do nothing.
No Gryffindor left the common room that night without the certainty in their hearts that You-Know-Who had returned. And that they needed to be ready.
End Chapter
Author's Notes:
Special thanks goes out to JaiRose and Fantasyra as both were an amazing help in writing this new chapter. I hope its up to the same quality as the previous once, though I feel its even better.
Please leave a review! Spent a month writing this beast of a chapter and I'd love to have your precious feedback. Or just knowing that you enjoyed the story would be enough.
Till Next!
MB