Chapter 102: Sweet Dreams
Harry tossed and turned in his bed in the Granger house. For his birthday, Harry wanted to stay in the house instead of the manor, hoping it would soothe him. But thus far, it wasn't working. Since the night of the Third Task, Harry hadn't slept through the night and tonight was no different. Though on some level, he knew he was in a bed, he was back in the graveyard. The same scene played over and over in his head.
Harry looked over the smoldering ruins that used to be Hogwarts. All his closest friends and teachers lay on the grounds, their bodies crumpled with limbs bent at odd angles. Directly in front of him, Hermione stood between him and Voldemort with terror etched on her face. Voldemort twitched his bone-like wand and she floated closer to him.
"She loves you," Voldemort said. "Look at her face, look at her eyes the way she's pleading. She loves you so much, even at the end. Such a powerful tool, love. With it, I can cripple you, I can control you and I can end you. Diffindo."
Hermione screamed as a deep cut appeared on her shoulder, cutting through her robes and the skin of her shoulder all the way to the bone.
"You hear her scream?" Voldemort said as Death Eaters approached from the shadows. "Every scream is your fault. If you had just left her alone, she wouldn't be in this predicament. She's suffering because it will make you suffer. It's a pity too. She's pretty, isn't she? Even for a mudblood. Just like your mother. She was pretty too. If she had kept her head down and learned her place, she could have served us."
"Never" Harry shouted as his body refused to move.
"Well then if she won't serve us in life then she will serve us in death," Voldemort sneered. "Avada Kedavra."
Harry watched helplessly as the life left Hermione's eyes and she crumpled to the ground. Over and over the same scene played. Sometimes Hermione was beheaded and in others it was even worse.
In her room, Hermione had similar dreams. She was back in the Graveyard watching Harry get hit over and over with the killing curse. Except this time, he didn't come back. He remained still no matter how much she shook him.
"Harry!" She shouted as tears poured down her face onto his lifeless one. "Come back to me. I need you. Oh Harry I need you."
"Don't worry child," Voldemort said. "I'll send you to him. But first, it's time to play."
Hermione screamed in her dream and in reality. In her fright, she popped from her bed into Harry's. As if he sensed her presence, Harry rolled over in his sleep and wrapped her in his arms. Hermione sighed contentedly and fell into a content sleep. In her dreams, Harry woke up.
"I'll always come back to you," Dream Harry said.
At daybreak, Harry stirred when something fuzzy poked him. Harry cracked an eye and from his limited eyesight, he guessed it was Crookshanks.
"S'matter?" Harry said to the ginger blob.
"Meow," Crookshanks said as he poked Harry with his paw again.
"I don't know what you want," Harry moaned.
"He's just hungry," Hermione's muffled voice came from Harry's left. That's when he realized his left arm was pinned. The fog of sleep cleared instantly. Hermione let out a quick "eep" and sat up.
"How did you get in my bed?" She asked. "Wait, this is your bed. How did I get in your bed?"
"Mistresses apparated herself last night," Winky said as she popped in quietly. "After what Winky could only surmise were nightmares, you screamed and popped into Master Harry's bed."
"It's just Harry, Winky," Harry said. Hermione was too groggy to fight the elf on how she addressed them.
"I will go feed the furball," Winky picked up a yowling Crookshanks and the two popped from the room.
"So…" Hermione said as she turned to examine her bedmate.
"This is awkward," Harry said as he realized he was only in sleep shorts.
"No kidding," Hermione blushed deeply as she admired Harry's lack of clothing. "I'd say I'm sorry but last night is the best night of sleep I've had in a while."
"Me too," Harry said. "I didn't have as many nightmares."
"Me too," Hermione said. "No don't."
Hermione stopped Harry from reaching to put on his glasses.
"I never get to see you without your glasses," Hermione said as she stroked the side of Harry's face. "Your eyes really are very pretty."
"I guess I can deal with only fuzzy outlines of anything far away," Harry moved closer so he could see Hermione properly. "Care to talk about your nightmares?"
"Same ones," Hermione admitted. "You're hit by the killing curse and you don't wake up. Voldemort taunts me about it. The scene resets and plays over."
"Same for me," Harry said. "Only it was at Hogwarts. Voldemort kills you over and over again. Tells me that it's my fault you are coming to harm. If I had just left you alone, he would have done the same."
"That's just wrong," Hermione said. "He might not go after me directly but he'd have no problem having his minions hunt me like the animal they think I am. Thanks to you I'm trained and my parents are protected. Even if he were to do anything to me, it is not your fault."
"But…"
"No buts," Hermione said. "You are not at fault for everything that goes wrong or bad, especially since your nature wouldn't allow you to do said acts. If you knew of a way to help someone, you would gladly do it."
"Always glad you're there to knock some sense into me," Harry smiled.
"Best believe it," Hermione returned his smile as she leaned closer. "What would you do without me?"
"Fail history, at the very least," Harry joked as he closed the remaining gap and their lips met. The kiss deepened for a moment before Hermione pushed back with a grimace.
"Morning breath," she said as she stuck her tongue out.
"Shall I go brush then?" Harry asked.
"I'll manage," Hermione pulled his face back toward hers as they snogged heavily. Hands started to travel with the door burst open. Hermione eeped again and burrowed herself into the blankets as best she could.
"Hey kid, there's something you need to…" Richard let the end of the sentence hang as he spotted the second occupant of the room. "Well, er… there's something you'll want to see downstairs. When you get the chance."
Richard quickly backed out of the room.
"That was embarrassing," Harry admitted.
"No kidding," Hermione buried her head in her hands.
"Your dad is gonna kill me," Harry moaned.
"Give him a moment," Hermione said. "Let mum talk to him first. In the meantime… where were we?"
Downstairs Richard arrived back in the kitchen with a maelstrom of emotions swirling inside of him. He just wanted to tell Harry the news. The last thing he expected was to find his daughter in his bed. They were too young for that. Weren't they? Sure their relationship was two years old but that was his daughter, his baby girl. And he brought her into his bed!?
"Was Harry up?" Helen asked. She sat at the island in the kitchen nursing a mug of tea as she finished her breakfast. Hedwig eyed her bacon with interest from her perch by the window.
"Oh he was up alright," Richard grumbled. Helen cocked her head to the side.
"I found Hermione in his bed," Richard said, making Helen mouth a silent "oh."
"They're too young for that," Richard continued. "Is this what they do up in school? How long have they been sleeping together? Do you think Hermione is…"
"That's enough," Helen forestalled his tirade. "You and I both know Harry. He's the most respectful boy you'll ever meet. You know he wouldn't have brought Hermione into his bed. If anything, I would be on Hermione being the one to initiate. I'll have you know they are not that far into their physical relationship but they are young adults. Yes, that's what they are. Hermione will always be your child but she isn't a kid anymore.
"You're not mad at Harry… or Hermione for that fact. You know that you were much worse when you were their age and you know how your parents reacted. No, you're mad because you have to admit that Hermione is no longer a child and she's quickly becoming her own woman. The fact she has a boy who loves, respects her and treats her well is a good thing. We will talk to them when they get down, allow them to explain themselves but we will not judge them. Got it?"
Richard nodded defiantly.
"I will assume you at least knocked?" Helen asked. When Richard blushed, Helen scolded him. "Richard Henry Granger! You owe Harry an apology. Barging into his room without knocking!"
"He'll get over it," Richard said.
"No, he won't. He'll blame himself and push away from us. That boy has gone through years of not having his own space. The Dursleys didn't respect his space nor did they give him any of his own; something we have worked to give him. You will apologize to him first thing. Got it!"
"Yes, dear," Richard looked sufficiently cowed.
When Harry and Hermione appeared in the kitchen, Helen looked over at the two, both of her hands still on the mug in front of her.
"Good morning," Helen greeted cheerfully. "Have a good sleep?"
Helen smiled knowingly at her daughter.
"Oh, uh, yes," Hermione said, not meeting her mother's eyes.
"Before we talk, Richard has something to say, don't you, Richard?" Helen looked from the teenagers to her husband.
"I'm sorry I didn't knock," Richard said.
"It's fine," Harry waved him off.
"It most certainly is not," Richard said. "I didn't respect your privacy and I apologize."
"Thanks," Harry said, unsure of how to respond.
"Now that that's out of the way," Helen said. "I don't know the circumstances around what happened last night and/or this morning but I hope this isn't a regular occurrence?"
"No, Mum," Hermione said. "I apparently had a nightmare last night and popped myself over to Harry's bed."
"Popped?" Richard said.
"Yes, Mr. Grangey," Winky popped in. "Hermione apparated herself to Harry's bed last night. Winky was going to move them back but her magic wouldn't allow anyone or anything to move her."
"I guess my subconscious just wanted to know that Harry was alright," Hermione admitted. "I didn't realize I was in his bed until Crookshanks woke us up this morning."
"Well, I guess that answers that," Helen said. "But try not to make a habit of this, okay?"
"I'll try not to pop into his bed, mum," Hermione said while blushing.
"At least you didn't pop yourself to the roof," Harry said. "I did that once. School had to call the fire department to come rescue me. What was it you wanted me to see?"
"What?" Richard came back to the conversation as he tried to picture Hermione standing on the roof in her bedclothes. "Oh! This is what I needed you to see."
Richard handed Harry the Guardian from this morning.
Chunnel Collapses unexpectedly, 50 Dead.
"That's not a coincidence," Harry said. "French Ministry openly declares the former Death Eaters as persona non-grata and suspects to be detained and this happens thereafter."
"What we thought too," Richard said.
"What's the Prophet reporting?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing," Helen pointed to the paper. "The front page has Fudge talking about the latest benefit at St. Mungo's, the Tornadoes vying for their second league title and an article about vampire clans supposedly on the move."
"So they either don't know," Harry said.
"Or they do and Fudge is suppressing it," Hermione said. "He's clinging to his seat as is. One more fiasco and he's sure to be out."
At that moment the fireplace in their sitting room lit up and Amelia's head popped through. When the goblins rebuilt the house, they connected the house to the floo network, sneaking the paperwork to approve it in a stack of other approvals so the ministry would gloss over it.
"May I come through?" Amelia asked.
"Of course, Amelia," Helen waved her in. "Come over anytime."
A moment later, Amelia extracted herself from the hearth into the sitting room.
"Can I offer you tea?" Helen offered.
"How about coffee?" Amelia asked.
"Early morning?" Richard asked as he pulled a mug from the cupboard for Amelia as Dobby popped in with a fresh pot of coffee.
"Late night too," Amelia said. "Thank you, Dobby. I trust you've seen the muggle news?"
"About the Chunnel?" Helen said to which Amelia nodded. "We were just talking about it. I'm guessing it was him?"
"Oh yes," Amelia said. "We caught a few of the Death Eaters involved in the attack. They took a page out of your book, Harry. They used Gillyweed to swim down and collapse the tunnel at the midway point. It's a nightmare, especially since Fudge won't declare it a public emergency. That fool is going to bury us."
"He'll only bury himself," Harry said.
"Wish that were true," Amelia said. "He's on the warpath. He's trying to find everyone loyal to you or Dumbledore in the ministry. He found a few loyal to Dumbledore and they were fired the next day for 'sowing dissent.' The people who replaced them have… dubious affiliations. He's blowing holes in the ministry and You-Know-Who is filling them. I'd recommend using that, by the way. One of the departments affected is the one that monitors magic. It wouldn't surprise me if they slyly put the taboo back into place so they can discover who to attack."
"You need to talk to Minerva," Helen's eyes widened. "If they have access to that network, they'll be able to discover First Generation Witches and Wizards when they have an outburst of accidental magic."
"Merlin," Amelia's mug slipped from her hands as she covered her mouth. "We have to contact her now."
"Contact who?" McGonagall asked as she walked in the back door.
"Speak of the devil," Hermione said.
"What devil?" McGonagall looked owlishly at Hermione.
"Nothing," Hermione didn't feel like explaining the idiom to her. "Mum just thought of something that you should know."
"The Death Eaters have wormed their way into the Department of Magical Detection," Amelia said which made McGonagall pale. "I thought they'd put the Taboo back into the service so they could track and target anyone that would resist the Dark Lord. Helen thought…"
"They could use it to target muggleborns-"
"-First Gens," Helen corrected softly.
"First Gens," McGonagall caught herself. "The first instances of Accidental Magic are usually at five. If it's public enough, they send in the Obliviators for cleanup to maintain the Statute. However, if it is within a private residence, they usually just write down the name and send it to Hogwarts to update our book of enrollment. Merlin if they get a hold of that…"
"Why didn't they do that before?" Hermione asked. "Seems like they could have attacked me or my parents after I was four."
"You can thank the Prewetts for that," Minerva said. "Fabian and Gideon broke into that department and set off an explosive that destroyed the entire room, monitors and all. Once they had it rebuilt and back up and running, the war was over. I was so swamped with visits that year, I barely saw Hogwarts except to sleep.
"Well, the ministry learned their lesson and now everything is backed up in a secure room that only those in the department can access."
"What can we do?" Harry asked. "Those kids and families will be easy pickings for the Death Eaters."
"I'm not sure there is anything we can do," Amelia slumped in her chair.
"How often are your lists updated?" Hermione asked the Transfiguration Professor.
"About every two weeks," McGonagall said.
"Is there a way to increase that?" She followed up.
"There is," McGonagall fought to keep the smile from her face.
"Well if we get it to update as quick as possible," Hermione began to pace around the kitchen as her mind raced. "And then followed up with an undetectable ward at that office so we would know when someone visits the office where the records are kept, we would know when someone accesses it. We could then cross reference any of the new names, and link that ward to one around their houses. Set it to be tripped by any magical signature which we could link to the DMLE. That would allow you to respond in record time, hopefully catching the Death Eaters in a trap."
By the time Hermione stopped pacing, Amelia was looking at her awestruck.
"Merlin," she sighed out. "Do you want a job, Miss Granger? That's…"
"Bloody brilliant, is what it is," Harry beamed at his girlfriend. He loved when her brain saw the whole picture that only a select few saw part.
"Indeed," Amelia downed the remnants of her coffee and stood abruptly. "I need to go talk to the goblins, see if I can borrow Bill Weasley. If anyone can make this ward work, it is him."
"Use this," Harry nodded to Dobby who popped in with his invisibility cloak.
"You would allow someone else to use your father's cloak?" McGonagall said with an awed look.
"If it means protecting kids, absolutely," Harry said. "If anyone who is loyal to Vol-er-Tom."
Harry caught himself at the last moment.
"Then they will know we're on to them," Harry said. "Once Bill is done and clear from the room, he just has to say 'Mischief Managed' and Dobby will grab the cloak from him."
"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Amelia said. "Now let's set a trap."
When she flooed out, the Grangers and Harry turned to McGonagall.
"What was it you needed, Professor?" Harry asked.
"I came to drop these off," McGonagall extracted two dark red envelopes from her bag. "Since school owls have a tendency to get attacked by yours, Mr. Potter, none of them will deliver letters to you."
At McGonagall's words, Hedwig chirped from her perch above the refrigerator. She preened proudly when everyone looked at her.
"So I thought I would deliver these by hand," she said.
Hermione snatched the envelope with her name on it before Harry even moved from his spot.
"Oh yes!" She jumped for joy as a silver badge with the Gryffindor Lion and a big P stamped on it fell into her head. Hermione sprinted back to McGonagall to hug the surprised Deputy Headmistress. She sprinted back to Harry. "Harry open yours!"
Harry smirked at her as he opened his letter.
"I knew it!" She hugged him tightly. "We're going to be PREFECTS!"
"You both have earned it," McGonagall said. "I am eager to see what the two of you do with the younger years as prefects. Now, with everything happening, Prefects will be needed more than ever. You are continuing the DA, correct?"
Harry nodded.
"Good," McGonagall said. "We, that is to say, Filius and I, were hoping you would take all the younger years for a day a week and use that to teach them basic defense. Usually, we don't start defense spellcasting until the second year but we want to make sure all students can at least do enough to give them time to get away."
"We'll need help," Harry said.
"Anything you need, you'll get it," McGonagall said. "Just be diligent. You won't be alone. We are asking all the new prefects to help in this venture but, if I can speak honestly, it would not work without the two of you heading it."
"So long as the Head Boy and Girl are okay with it," Harry said, not wanting to overstep.
"I have already talked to them. They both agreed you were the best for the job. You specifically, Mr. Potter," McGonagall gave the boy a demure smile, showing him just how proud she was of him.
"Congratulations you two!" Richard said, the early tension out of everyone's mind. "We'll have to celebrate tonight. How about Italian?"
"Well I must be off," McGonagall said. "Lots to do. Well done, both of you. You are a credit to your house."
As McGonagall left the Granger house, Dumbledore was strolling up a quiet street in Wales. As he walked, his left arm twinged. He held the blackened arm close to his body. He knew it was stupid to put on the ring and it proved yet again he was too weak to resist the pull of the Hallows, that one specifically. He had enough power to wield the Elder Wand and the wisdom to not use it recklessly. The cloak, he never had much use for but the stone… how he would love to use to stone to talk to the departed, to apologize for his mistakes.
No, he just had to get Harry set to lead. He already stepped into his role, without any help from Dumbledore. Inwardly, he wondered how different things would be if the boy didn't have Dumbledore meddle with his childhood.
Nothing could be done about that now but the regrets still lingered as the self-doubt mounted. He had to find out how many of those Tom made and he needed Horace to learn that. That's what brought him to this town. Dumbledore approached a home slowly. Before he could raise his arm to knock, the door opened and Dumbledore found a wand thrust in his face.
"You've got quite the nerve, Albus," the figure said. "I told you I am not interested and yet you come visit in person."
"I need you, Horace," Dumbledore said. "I need a teacher who I can trust, someone who can teach the students to excel, not only in studies but in the wizarding world as well."
"There's many who can teach that," Horace Slughorn stepped into the doorway, his large stomach preceding the rest of his body.
"But none who can do it as well as you," Dumbledore continued to work his ego.
"Leave it out, Albus," Slughorn said. "I'll not be manipulated by you. Once was enough. I'm retired. I'm comfortable. Now leave me alone."
"If you wish," Dumbledore started to turn away. "I guess Lily Evans' kid will have to learn on the fly how to make his way in our world."
"Evans?" Slughorn said. "Of course, he would be in what, his sixth year?"
"Fifth, actually," Dumbledore said. "He's a bright lad with a penchant for making allies but he lacks your nuanced touch for dealing with those he is not allied with."
"Oh of course he would," Slughorn smoothed his handlebar mustache as he pondered. "It's quite a useful skill to have. Especially in the OWL year. All those Ministry folk at the school. It's the perfect opportunity…"
"That it is," Dumbledore spoke softly.
"Triple my pay and I'll do it," Slughorn said.
Dumbledore grimaced. He knew Slughorn would be expensive but this would seriously dent his vaults. However, he needed him.
"Done," Dumbledore tried to keep the pained look off his face. "Welcome back, my friend."
"We're not friends," Slughorn corrected. "You are my employer, paying me handsomely to work for a year."
Dumbledore flamed back into his office after his conversation and looked toward the table where the ring sat.
The Diary, Nagini, Harry, the ring are gone, Dumbledore thought. I know Greengrass postulated he made 7, possibly 8 but I need to know. Horace would know; he had to. Dumbledore needed to know what the others were and where they were.
He had some leads on another but finding that exact location would take time. In the meantime, he had to find the others.
As Dumbledore stared at the ring, Voldemort stared at the ruined shack. He felt the wave of pain as one of his Horcruxes were destroyed. That pain brought him back to the night in the graveyard, what should have been his ascension into the pantheon of the gods. But no, he lost Nagini, lost to Potter and now he'd lost his first two horcruxes. He could feel his magic growing more erratic with every piece his soul destroyed. He had to know about the others. Voldemort pondered his immortality as he traveled back to Malfoy Manor.
I didn't feel anything when the diary was destroyed, Voldemort's thoughts raged as he walked through the house and into the study. Is it possible the old man figured out his secret before that? He surely would have figured it out after scanning the diary. The one in the castle was safe, that is for certain. Even if they found the location, it would take months to find the item itself. Wormtail he knew would do his job. He'd either do it or Voldemort would strangle him with his new arm.
"Poor Peter," Voldemort said. "You thought I gave you a new arm but what you don't realize is I gave you an arm that I can control. Just in case you decide to betray me."
Voldemort stopped his pacing as another figure stepped into the room.
"Master," the figure bowed.
"What do you have for me, my loyal servant?" Voldemort gave his most practiced smile.
"I have names of recruits," the man said. "One is in the castle ready for me to teach him. I told him if he serves you, he will earn his mark. I know what you have planned for the boy but I do not have faith. We need a fail-safe and my new recruit is that. Should the boy fail, he will step in."
"Well done," Voldemort cheered. "How will you train him? You can't be seen in the school- everyone thinks you are dead- and that map of Potter's…"
"Don't worry about the map," the man said. "I talked to one of its creators. I know how to beat it. The spell only lasts a year but as long as I'm in the vicinity when I cast it, nobody will know. I will be close to the recruit and anyone else he can recruit. We will build an army right under Potter's nose and he'll be none the wiser."
"How do you plan to achieve this?" Voldemort asked, testing the man.
The man pulled a suitcase from behind him. Setting it in front of the Dark Lord, the man opened it.
"Oh that's good," Voldemort actually was impressed and pleased. "That'll work nicely, nicely indeed. Well, you have your tasks, as do the others. In a year's time, we will be ready and you won't have to hide in the shadows anymore."
"Yes, my lord," the man bowed again. "Magic is Might."
As the man walked away, Voldemort smiled. Even if they discovered his secret, he would not be defeated. He was immortal; he was inevitable and they would soon discover that for themselves.
