A/N: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and her associates. Please support the official release.
Darkness. An endless veil of black, stretching out in all directions, comforting in its simplicity. The liberating feeling of unconsciousness, where all of his problems seemed so far away.
Then… distant voices. A mess of sound, penetrating through the darkness. Confusion. There wasn't supposed to be anyone else in this void.
Realization. Who was he? What was he doing here? How long had he been here?
Awakening. His mind coming to life, telling him that he had to go back. That he had to return to the world of the living.
With hesitation, he obeyed its command, and opened his eyes.
Blinding sunlight met his unfocused gaze. A sharp pain ran through his head at the sudden illumination.
"Fuuuuck," Harry groaned, feeling his body reawaken from its slumber. It was like coming out of a coma.
"Mr. Potter?" a female voice came from somewhere to his left.
"Ughh…" Harry replied, most helpfully.
"You're awake," the voice continued, sounding a tad bit more animated this time. "Thank goodness. I was beginning to doubt if you would ever return."
"Wh… Whe… Where am I?" Harry forced out.
"The Hospital Wing," the voice said. "A place you're most familiar with."
"M-Madam Pomfrey?"
Turning his head, he directed his gaze towards the origin of the voice. And sure enough, a couple of seconds later, the mature yet sprightly visage of Madam Pomfrey filled his view. She had a decidedly exasperated look on her face.
"Yes, Mr. Potter, who else would it be?" she said, retrieving her wand from somewhere within the folds of her white robes. "Now lay still. There are a couple of things I would like to check."
"What… What happened?" Harry asked, feeling some of his strength returning to him. "Where's Hermione?"
"You passed out after killing a dragon, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, as the tip of her wand came alight with a blue spark. "An impressively stupid idea, even by your standards."
"So… I won?" Harry breathed. "I completed the First Task?"
"Yes, you did," Madam Pomfrey sighed. "And subsequently put yourself in a two-week coma because of it."
"T-Two weeks?!" Harry croaked, the sudden outburst eliciting a minor coughing fit.
"Two weeks," Madam Pomfrey confirmed.
"Sweet Merlin…"
"You should make sure to thank Miss Granger for looking after you," she continued, running her wand up and down the length of his body. "That girl has probably spent more time in this room over the past two weeks than I have."
"She has?" Harry asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Yes. I suspect she cares a great deal about you. A foolish endeavor to be sure, as you appear more interested in discovering new and creative ways to kill yourself."
"I suppose… I've earned that one," Harry swallowed.
"I truly wonder how long you'll make it out there in the real world, without me to patch you up," Madam Pomfrey mused as she finished her inspection, seemingly satisfied with the results. "My guess is a month, at most."
"A month? That's a little excessive. I'd say a week," Harry joked, before pushing himself up into a sitting position. Godric, had his body always been this heavy?
"My tests all came back normal. In a couple of hours, you should be feeling good as new. Therefore, and it does so pain me to say this; you are free to go, Mr. Potter. But! Allow me to make one thing very clear to you," Madam Pomfrey said, fixing him with an iron stare. "I do not want to see you in here again for the rest of this semester, for any reason. Do you understand?"
"I make no promises, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said, gritting his teeth as he swung his long-dormant legs out of the bed and onto the cold stone floor. "I still have two Tasks left to go before the Year is over, after all."
"Then I would recommend trying a less suicidal tactic next time," Madam Pomfrey retorted, getting up from her seat to walk away. "Less you want to be known as the Boy-Who-Used-To-Live."
As soon as he had mustered up the strength required to leave the Hospital Wing, Harry immediately set course for the Room of Requirement. He did not even bother to consider Ravenclaw Tower, as he knew with certainty that Hermione would not be there. She had not spent a single night within the Tower since the creation of their shared bedroom, after all, and thus, his destination was apparent.
As he stalked down the corridors with this goal in mind, he slowly began to notice that the other students seemed to be giving him a wide berth wherever he went. Or, at least, a wider berth than usual. Conversations would cease as soon as he appeared, and resume in hushed voices when he left. Not a single person was willing to meet his gaze, and some would even go so far as to completely alter their course when they saw him.
They're scared of me, Harry realized, a grim smile appearing on his face. After what I did in the arena, they all think I've turned evil. It's like Second Year all over again.
He discarded the thought with a sigh. His reputation had always been horrendous. This would hardly change anything.
A short while later, he finally arrived at the entrance to the Room. Pushing open the metallic door (which only took a couple of seconds to materialize), Harry fully expected to see the Gryffindor common room on the other side, complete with the hidden trapdoor, as was the usual configuration. Instead, he found a much different environment waiting for him.
The Room had been constructed to look like an exact replica of the Christmas-themed living room he, Hermione and Luna had used last year for their Christmas present extravaganza. And, furthermore, the Room was not empty. Neville was sitting in one of the recliners with an open book in his lap, studying what appeared to be different wand movements related to the Protego charm. He wore an intense expression as his eyes darted from one page to the next, inspecting the illustrations with heightened concentration.
"Oh," Harry started, coming to a stop in the entrance. "Hello there, Neville."
"Huh?" the black-haired Gryffindor replied, lifting his eyes. "W-Wait… H-Harry?! Is that you?!"
"Yes. It is I. I have returned to the land of the living," Harry said, sending the flabbergasted boy a half-hearted smile.
"You've been g-gone for weeks!" Neville continued, getting up from his seat. "W-We thought you'd gone loopy!"
"Gone loopy?" Harry frowned. "Me? Preposterous. I would never do that. At most, I'd go reasonably insane."
"Uhh… R-Reasonably insane?" Neville asked. "How can you g-go reasonably insane?"
"Oh, it's easy. Just look at Dumbledore," Harry nodded.
"Fair p-point…"
"It's good to see you again, Neville," Harry smiled, a genuine one this time.
"It's good to s-see you as well, Harry," Neville replied, matching Harry's smile with a slightly nervous-looking one of his own. "Luna's not here at the m-moment, if you were wondering. I think she's gone to the library to read up on Wrackspurts, whatever t-that is. You know how she is."
"That I do," Harry nodded. "And may she never change."
"Y-Yeah…" Neville breathed, a dreamy undertone seeping into his voice. "She wouldn't be Luna otherwise."
"I know, by the way," Harry added, an eyebrow raised in amusement. "You don't have to pretend around me."
"Know what?" Neville asked, the sudden alarm welling to life in his eyes betraying his true feelings.
"That you have a thing for Luna," Harry continued. "It's pretty obvious, really."
"W-W-What?! No, I… I don't…" Neville started, looking thoroughly flustered by the bold accusation. "I would never… Wait, what do y-you mean, obvious?"
"Your crush," Harry laughed. "It's not exactly a secret. I think even Luna knows, at this point."
"Oh, Godric…" Neville exclaimed, his face slowly turning a nice shade of crimson. "What am I… S-She must hate me!"
"No, she doesn't," Harry said, shaking his head. "In fact, I'm pretty sure she thinks you're cute."
"C-CUTE?!"
"Yes, you idiot," Harry smirked. "Cute. You should consider asking her out sometime. She'd probably say yes."
"Oh… Oh Merlin… I think… I think I need to sit down for a bit," Neville gulped, before all but falling into the recliner behind him.
"Come on, Neville, where's your bravery?" Harry joked. "The Sorting Hat placed you in your House for a reason, right?"
"Y-You know I'm not a very b-brave person, Harry," Neville stuttered. "The Sorting Hat must've been off his rocker to place me in G-Gryffindor."
"No, I don't think that's the case at all. Truth is, you're not actually a scaredy-cat, Neville. You just lack self-confidence," Harry said. "But we're working on that. There's hope for you yet, I reckon."
"… Do… Do you really think so?"
"Absolutely."
"Hmm… Thank you, Harry. I… I promise I'll try my best!"
"You already are, Neville," Harry smiled, recalling the image of him hunched over his textbook, studying the Protego charm with devoted fervor. "You already are."
"You should p-probably go say hello to Hermione, by the way," Neville said, gesturing towards an as-of-yet unnoticed teak door lining the far wall. "S-She's in there. She's missed you something awful."
"Ah, yeah. That sounds like a good idea. I should probably do that," Harry replied, before turning around to face the highlighted entrance. "Wish me luck."
Behind him, Neville sent him a thumbs-up, before reopening his book to continue on his studying.
Hermione's impromptu office looked about as unruly as expected. An abundance of books spilled out of crammed bookshelves lining the western wall, forming piles on the ground that reached heavenward. These books were accompanied by scatterings of parchment, no doubt discarded in a hurry by their owner. Hermione never had been one for tidiness, at least not in the midst of a study-session.
A lit fireplace on the right belched out a flurry of sparks, ascending from the inferno to flicker softly out of existence. Above it, Harry spotted a picture of a family. Hermione's family, standing around a beautifully decorated Christmas tree with happy smiles on their faces.
These homely decorations went largely ignored by Harry, however, who found his eyes dragged firmly to the center, where a large, oaken desk had been placed. Mountains of documents and other such notes covered its surface, casting modest shadows across the occupant seated in a chair on the other side.
Harry took a moment to stare at her in fascination, his lips twisting upwards into a smile. Brown curls framed a concentrated expression as Hermione's hand worked tirelessly to fill the parchment in front of her with text. Her chocolate-brown eyes glinted dully in the light of the fireplace, reflecting orange glimmers that only served to heighten her gentle beauty. So engrossed was she in her work, she hadn't even noticed him come in.
Drinking in the sight, Harry felt a familiar warmth flare to life in his chest.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting," he said, disturbing her razor-sharp focus. Inquisitive eyes lifted to regard the newcomer, which soon filled with recognition. A shocked expression settled on her features. "Had a bit of a close encounter with a dragon, you see."
"Harry!" Hermione gasped, getting up from her seat in a hurry. "You're… You're back!"
"Yes, I am," Harry nodded, a coy grin tugging on the corners of his mouth. "Madam Pomfrey says I'll live, though she wouldn't recommend it."
A dry chuckle forced its way past Hermione's lips at his joke, before it fizzled out into nothing. A prolonged moment of silence followed.
"Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?" Hermione finally said, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "And how dangerously close you got to dying in that arena?"
"I know," Harry breathed. "I wanted to stick to your plan, I really did. But when the Horntail ate my broom, well… I just had to improvise."
"How did you do it?" Hermione asked. "The blood Basilisk. I've never seen you cast a spell like that before."
"It's… difficult to explain," Harry started, scrunching up his face into a frown. "But, in essence, I cast Wingardium Leviosa on every single drop of my blood, and used it to merge them together into a larger whole. The Basilisk just happened to be the first thing that came to mind."
"You cast… Wingardium Leviosa… on every single blood-drop?" Hermione exclaimed, disbelief coloring her features. "But that's… that's just ridiculous."
"I know," Harry nodded. "It is. But it worked. Once I realized that I could still channel magic through blood that wasn't in my body, it was actually pretty simple. The spell did come out a little bit… twisted, though."
"Twisted?"
"Yeah. I wasn't planning on… choking the dragon to death like that. It just sort of happened, as the, uhh… rage inside of me took hold. You… You remember back during the Ritual, when that crimson thread started destroying pieces of my soul?"
Hermione gave a timid nod in response.
"Well, back then, the thread never actually destroyed the Obscurus. Rather, it merged with it, changing its color to a deep crimson, before overtaking my Personality fragment."
Brown eyes widened in understanding as Hermione's brain considered the implications behind his words.
"So… the Obscurus never disappeared. It just… combined itself with your personality somehow," she breathed.
"That's my theory, yes," Harry confirmed. "And yesterday, during my battle with the Horntail, the part of my personality that contains the Obscurus acted out. I was still in control, but I could definitely feel it within me, affecting my thought-process and altering my wishes."
"Godric, Harry, that's… that's serious," Hermione gulped. "We need to do something about that."
"I know," he sighed. "But I think we'll save that for another day. Right now, I'm just happy to be alive."
"Hah. You better be," Hermione scoffed. "Part of me still can't believe you're standing here right now."
"But… you're relieved that I am, right?" Harry tried.
"Of course I am, you idiot," Hermione said, a tired smile creeping its way onto her face. "Now quit standing there like a statue and come kiss me."
"Ah, with pleasure, Miss Granger," Harry replied, before moving around the table to properly greet his lover and best friend. A surprisingly apprehensive silence settled over the room as Harry leaned in close, allowing his vision to be filled by her, and nothing else.
The shadows of her face were so close now that he could smell the enthralling fragrance of her perfume; mandarin orange mixed with sweet vanilla and warm caramel. Her breath intermingled with his own, ghosting across his lips. Searching her eyes, he found nothing but the deepest devotion and affection. The sight of it set his heart aflutter.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered, not knowing precisely what it was he was apologizing for. It simply felt needed, in this moment where time stood still, and it was only them.
"It's okay," Hermione whispered back. "I know."
And then, the space between them was no more. Harry pressed his lips against hers, and allowed the sensation to transport him somewhere far away. There was no lustful undertone to it; this kiss was raw emotion, mutual admiration and love meeting in a soft embrace.
A radiant smile had formed on Hermione's face by the time they separated.
"It's good to have you back, Harry," she said. "Hogwarts isn't the same without you."
"Glad to be back," Harry replied with a grin, before shooting a speculative look at the oaken desk stacked with papers. "Although, I have to say, I am curious about what you've got going on over there."
"Oh, this?" Hermione blinked, following his gaze to the table. "That's just paperwork."
"Paperwork for what, though?"
"Well… let's just say that I've been keeping busy the last two weeks."
"Meaning…?"
A sigh escaped Hermione's lips. "Where do I even begin?"
"At the beginning, of course."
"Wow, thank you for that incredibly insightful piece of commentary, Harry," she scoffed.
"I aim to please."
"Yes, well… Following the completion of the First Task, a bunch of things happened in very rapid succession. First off, Dumbledore and the rest of the judges took off in a hurry, no doubt to hold a meeting regarding your… performance."
"Ugh, I can only imagine," Harry said, a frown marring his features. "Dumbledore is probably going to call me to his office any day now."
"Solid guess. In fact, he has already done so; you just weren't, uhh… mentally present for it," Hermione nodded.
"Ahh, bugger," Harry sighed.
"Yeah… You should probably go talk to Professor McGonagall."
"Alright, alright. I'll do it later. Now, what else has happened?"
"Well," Hermione continued, putting on a thoughtful expression. "According to Neville's grandmother, your use of illegal Apparition during the First Task is grounds for a Ministry hearing, so they've added that to your already pre-existing case regarding Draco Malfoy."
"Wonderful," Harry remarked drily. "Can't wait. I love the Ministry."
"You're in luck, though; due to your involvement in the Triwizard Tournament, the Wizengamot has decided to postpone your hearing until summer vacation. So that's at least something."
She was right; that was indeed a lucky break.
"I guess I don't have to worry about that just yet, then," Harry nodded. "Which is good, because Godric knows I've got enough on my plate as is."
"True," Hermione agreed. "And, speaking of, here's another thing for you to add to your plate; the Yule Ball."
"Yule Ball?" Harry asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "What's that?"
"It's a Triwizard Tournament tradition," Hermione explained. "In essence, it's a formal dance held on the evening of Yule, the pagan Winter solstice. And, as a Triwizard Champion, you are required to attend."
"Of course I am," Harry sighed.
"You, along with the other Champions, will host the Opening Dance, and everyone is expected to bring a partner."
"So… what, I need to find a date?" Harry blinked.
"Yes," Hermione said.
"Okay… uhh… do you want to come?"
"I'm your girlfriend, Harry."
"I'll take that as a yes."
"Of course it's a yes!"
"Sweet," Harry smiled. "Problem solved."
"Honestly…" Hermione muttered in mock-exasperation, but he could see the traces of a smile tugging on her lips.
"So I guess we have to learn how to dance then," Harry said.
"Unless you want to make a complete fool of yourself in front of the entire school, then yes, we have to learn how to dance," Hermione nodded. "Not to worry, though; Professor McGonagall is hosting a class for that exact purpose in three days' time."
"Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked, surprise coloring his voice. "That old crow?"
"Oi, she's not that old, at least not by wizarding standards. Besides, looks can be deceiving," Hermione chastised him.
"Fair enough," Harry shrugged. "And when did you say the Yule Ball is taking place again?"
"The beginning of Yule," Hermione informed him. "Approximately two and a half weeks from now. Clue's in the name, really."
"Hmm… Guess I'll have to work that into my schedule then. Thanks, Goblet of Fire. Godric, I hate this fucking Tournament."
"It'll be okay," Hermione said, although there wasn't much conviction to be found in her words. "We'll make do, as always."
"Except I'm getting fairly tired of simply "making do" at this point, Hermione," Harry sighed. "For once, I'd like to be the one in control."
"Well, if it's control you want, then I'm afraid you're going to have to take it," Hermione said. "Probably by force."
"And you're okay with that?" Harry asked, eyes narrowing. "Me taking control by force? That doesn't upset you?"
"Of course it does," Hermione replied instantly. "But, things being what they are… Even I have to admit, it's starting to look like our only option. If we hadn't dabbled in Dark magic and performed that Ritual, then… you would have died in that arena. So I think… I think I'm beginning to see the necessity of it. And, speaking of control…"
She gestured to the mountain of documents towering up from the desk.
"I've been putting in some work of my own."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, studying the contents of the parchment Hermione had been working on before he interrupted her. He was able to make out a couple of lines that hinted to a partnership of some sort, and a mention of Galleons.
"Well, first of all, I've been looking into the Right of Conquest. More specifically, your Right of Conquest in correlation to the dragon you killed."
"Right of Conquest?" Harry blinked.
"Yes. It's an old Goblin custom that was eventually passed into Wizarding law by the Wizengamot some hundred years ago. In essence, it states that any witch or wizard who slays a creature in rightful battle, has a claim to said creature's remains. Applied to our situation, it means that you have a claim on the corpse of the Hungarian Horntail."
"Oh… I do? That's… pretty cool. And potentially extremely lucrative," Harry said, doing some quick math off the top of his head. "Certain dragon body parts can be worth a small fortune if sold to the right buyer, after all."
"My thoughts exactly," Hermione nodded. "Not to mention how useful some of those parts could be to us. Take dragonhide, for instance. You could fashion yourself quite the armor from that, if you knew who to bring it to. Seeing as dragonhide is resistant to most spells."
"Wow, okay, that's actually a great idea. We really need to push that claim then."
"Already have," Hermione smiled. "Following the end of the First Task, as they were bringing your unconscious body to the Hospital Wing, I noticed a couple of Ministry officials milling about the dragon corpse. They seemed to be regarding it with great interest, and discussing possible methods of transportation. That alone set off alarm bells in the back of my mind."
"Those sly bastards," Harry scoffed. "They were trying to yoink my dragon corpse, weren't they?"
"Yes, they were," Hermione breathed. "And they would have succeeded, too, if it hadn't been for Hedwig. She flew faster than I've ever seen any owl do before, in order to deliver my letters of objection to the Ministry. Because of her, I was able to interject on your behalf, and claim the Right of Conquest before the Ministry was able to relocate the corpse."
"Ahh, I love that owl," Harry smiled, white feathers and amber eyes coming to mind as he talked. "I really should visit her more often. And good job with those letters, by the way. I didn't even know that Right of Conquest was a thing, so any benefit we gain from this dragon corpse is purely due to your quick thinking."
"Yeah, well, someone's got to look out for you," Hermione smirked, beaming at the praise. "And that's not all I've done in the past 2 weeks. You know the Weasley twins, right?"
"Uhh… I think so? Identical, redheaded and tall, right? Likes to get up to no good, and pull pranks on people?"
"That would be them, yes. Well, as fate would have it, I happened to overhear a conversation between them in the Great Hall which I found most intriguing. Apparently, the two of them are looking to open their own shop in Diagon Alley, where they will sell self-made products designed to give people a laugh, and help would-be pranksters get up to all manner of mischief."
"Huh… Interesting, interesting… But I fail to see how this relates to us?"
"If you'd let me finish, I was just getting to that," Hermione continued. "You see, in order to make this dream of theirs come true, they are in need of funding. Buying property in Diagon Alley is rather expensive, after all, and so is procuring the necessary ingredients required to produce their wares. And who do I know that just so happens to be sitting on a veritable mountain of Galleons?"
"Me," Harry replied, realization dawning in his eyes. "The sole heir to the Potter fortune."
"Precisely," Hermione nodded. "And, seeing as how you've talked about wanting to invest your wealth rather than waste it, I thought it would be an excellent idea for you to enter a partnership with them. You'll provide funding for their endeavors, and in return, gain a stake in their company and a percentage of their earnings."
"You're fucking brilliant Hermione, you know that, right?" Harry smiled, brimming with pride at his lover's intellect. "Absolutely bloody brilliant."
"Oh, stop it…" she replied, a visible blush present on her cheeks. "I'm not that brilliant… I'm just highly logical, which allows me to look past the extraneous detail and perceive clearly that which others overlook."
"You have no idea how badly I want to marry you right now," Harry breathed, wrapping his arms around her slender waist, and pulling her close.
"W-What? You want to… marry me?" she stuttered, a litany of emotions flashing across her face. "Are… Are you sure?"
"I was joking, Hermione," Harry chuckled. "But yes, of course I want to marry you. Maybe not right this very second, but eventually… yeah."
"Oh… Oh wow… I… I don't know what to say to that," Hermione continued.
"You could say yes," Harry suggested.
A nervous laugh escaped her lips.
"Are you actually proposing to me right now, Harry?"
"Well, no, not really," Harry denied. "When I propose to you, it's going to be much grander than a simple hug in a cluttered office. But I would like to know if you're open to the idea, at least."
Hungry lips crashed against his own moments later, giving him all the answer he needed. Unlike the kiss from earlier, this one was filled with tantalizing desire, and Harry soon found himself lost within its passionate embrace.
"Godric, the things you do to me…" Hermione breathed as she pulled away, pushing her forehead against his. The height difference between them made it so Harry had to tilt his head slightly downwards to allow her proper access. "My heart is beating so fast right now."
"That's a good thing, right?" Harry smiled, closing his eyes to revel in the sensation of her skin against his.
"Absolutely, unequivocally yes," Hermione continued, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him towards the parchment-ridden desk. "We can discuss your budding partnership with the Weasley twins later. Now, I want you to fuck me right here in this office, and I don't give a damn who hears."
Heat rushed through Harry's veins, setting his blood ablaze.
"Happy to oblige," he whispered, burrowing his face in her neck to place ravenous kisses on her exposed skin.
A/N: I'm alive, and I come bearing gifts! The second chapter of the promised December trilogy. Took me a bit longer than anticipated to get this one out (due to various reasons), but at last, it has been published! An extremely dialogue-driven chapter, this one. Mostly just necessary filler, to be honest. After last chapter's craziness, I reckoned a change of pace would be nice.
The next chapter will cover Harry's meeting with Dumbledore and the Yule Ball, so look forward to that. I hope to have it out sometime before the 1st of January, but as usual, I make no promises. Now, for the "Special 1000 Follows" A/N...
When I started writing this story, I was 18 years old, in high school, and going through a break-up. It was a pretty tumultuous time for me, and not one I often bother to recall. But whenever I do cast my mind back to those depressing days, there is one clear highlight that shines through the darkness. The creation of this story, and its original plotline document.
I still remember the excitement I felt back then. Of hitting 100 Follows in 3 chapters, and having my email inbox absolutely demolished by FFnet notifications. It was great. More than great, actually. And, more importantly, it was precisely what I needed to regain that spark of happiness that I had lost.
Fast forward three and a half years, we've hit 1000 Follows, and 250,000+ total story views. A number so ridiculous, it wasn't even considered a possibility by 2018 Twisted.
Words cannot accurately convey just how grateful I am to every single one of you for deciding to read my shitty little scribblings. All I've ever wanted to do since I was 9 years old is entertain people through storytelling. And you guys have allowed me to do just that for several years now.
It's been such a long time, yet I am still here. I am still writing. And I do not intend to stop now.
Again, thank you so much for the big 1K, and I'll see you guys again in the next chapter. Twisted out.