Chapter 17 It's in the Blood

Her eyes fluttered open. Blimey, her head ached! She couldn't see a single thing, either. Hermione shivered. She wasn't sure if it was from the cold or the feeling of encroaching dread. Probably both. She tried to reach her hands to rub her gooseflesh-covered arms, but she couldn't get her hands to cooperate. There was a strange clinking noise with every movement. Hermione pulled again and again before she realized she had chains encircling each wrist. A slow burn of panic rushed through her body. What had happened? Where was she?

Hermione swallowed a sob as her fingers grazed the rough surface she was resting on. It was as hard and unforgiving as the position she found herself in. She chastised herself. Stop panicking and start thinking! She sucked in a deep calming breath, then another, and another. Where had she been and what had she been doing?

She had gone to have lunch with Ginny. Yes. She had gone to the Potter home, but reporters hoping for an interview had surrounded the house. Ginny had done what she could to keep the story of Harry's disappearance out of the papers. Her journalist friends wanted to respect her privacy, but Ginny couldn't keep a story this juicy under wraps for long, and once the public learned the famous Harry Potter was missing, they became insatiable for details.

Reporters instantly surrounded Hermione; quills were scratching furiously on pads of parchment as they overwhelmed her with question after question: "Are you coming to console her?" "Didn't you have an affair with Harry at Hogwarts?" "Can you tell us if their marriage is over?"

In a flash, Ginny appeared and clutched Hermione by the arm and disapparated them both inside the Potter domicile. Ginny waved her wand to rebuild the protective enchantments to keep the horde of reporters at bay.

"I never knew reporters could be so positively vile! They won't leave me alone," Ginny spat.

Hermione hugged her friend in greeting. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it had gotten so bad. What can I do?"

Ginny's fierce expression fell, and her voice dropped to little more than a whisper. "Help me find Harry."

Hermione and Ginny had eaten a cold lunch while Ginny went over what information she had discovered so far. A female witness mentioned seeing a black-robed woman outside Hogwarts on the day of Harry's disappearance. The witness said a hood had obscured the woman's face, but she had noticed a few sections of white-blonde hair had been picked up by the wind. She didn't see this woman with Harry, but they had observed no one else in the area at about the same time of his disappearance. Ginny didn't believe in coincidences. She believed the key to finding Harry was with finding this mystery woman.

Hermione had gone back to her office, her thoughts in a whirl. The only family she knew with white-blond hair were the Malfoys, and she couldn't imagine them being involved. They had gone into seclusion, except for Draco, who had a falling out with his parents for marrying someone they hadn't approved of. Draco was still an obnoxious snob, but had become a softer version of his old self because of his wife. No, Hermione didn't believe the Malfoys were involved. But if not them, then who?

She had sorted through the files and messages Tifani left on her desk and found an owl message from someone named H. James who requested an urgent meeting that afternoon. She called the desk to ask Tifani about the message, but Tifani had asked someone to cover the desk while she popped out for lunch.

Hermione held the now crumbled message in her hand. The only H. James that Hermione knew was Harry. The meeting was at a public park not too far from the office. She could easily walk there in a few minutes, but could it be Harry? Hermione thought it was more than likely a reporter hoping for an interview, but she couldn't risk not going in case it was Harry.

Decision made, Hermione grabbed her coat and rushed out of the office. She pulled up the collar of her wool coat and wrapped it more tightly around her, and wished she had boots on instead of heels. It was cool for a fall day with a brisk north wind more than hinting of the winter soon to come. In hindsight, she shouldn't have been surprised to find the park had been deserted. It was likely now by design. She had turned in a circle, looking for Harry, or the reporter, when she saw a flash of black and wisps of white. Then, nothing.

She shivered and noticed a faint warmth radiating on her right side from shoulder to hip. She stretched her fingers out, and they grazed a soft cloth, warm to the touch. Someone was lying next to her!

"Hey, who's there?" she called out, but there was no response.

She poked the body with her finger and said, "Hey! Wake up!"

Again, no response. She closed her eyes and concentrated all of her energy on the body next to her and muttered, "Finite Incantatem!"

The person moaned and said, "No, please! Let me sleep. Leave me be."

"Harry?" Hermione asked.